Alpha Threat

by Ron Smoak

  “No, thank you,” he replied. “I’m on duty.” Max renewed his interest in his clipboard trying to ignore Rauch’s questions. “All work of the Reich is important,” Max said tersely. “We all have our orders,” looking at Schneider for the first time.

  “Oberleutnant Schneider, sir,” snapped Schneider with a crisp salute, “accompanying Major Rauch.”

  Max stared at Schneider for a moment and gave him a weak salute. “Yes, I see,” said Docher.

  “Well… what is going on?” asked Rauch, fully noticing Docher’s disinterest.

  “Have you delivered your load?”

  “Yes. We have been asked to go to some barracks near here. I hope we can get some food and some sleep. We haven’t slept in several days and frankly, I’m hungry as hell,” answered Rauch.

  Max looked Rauch squarely in the eyes. “They will take good care of you over there. You need to get your troops together and clear the area. We have many more trucks that need to unload. I’ll try to catch up with you later.”

  Puzzled, Rauch extended his right hand to shake hands with his friend. “Sure; let’s do that. Maybe you can meet us at the barracks. I’ll talk to you then.”

  “Sure,” answered Docher as Rauch and Schneider turned away to get their troops together. Docher watched as his friend gathered the men into a truck and drove off down the road.

  CHAPTER NINE

  April 4, 1945

  South of Rostock, Germany; 9:30 a.m.

  With Schneider driving, Rauch rode in the passenger side of the truck. All twenty-four of their troops were in the back. Following the small map, Schneider drove south of Rostock outside of Papendorf until he saw a group of several non-distinct, low brick buildings about 200 meters off of the left side of the road near a tree line. It was just like the map specified. There were six other trucks parked in an area to the right of the closest building. He noticed a light wisp of smoke rising from the chimneys. At least there was heat, thought Schneider. They stopped at a guarded gate at the road’s edge.

  “May I see your orders, sir?” asked a young Kriegsmarine officer standing there in the cold with a group of six other soldiers. Three of the men manned a dual machine gun emplacement just off to the right of the gate. The three other guards stood behind the officer, guns at ready. Schneider glanced over at the emplacement and back to the officer. He handed him the small piece of paper he had been given back at the station, looking past the gate at the buildings. Odd, he thought. There was not a person stirring around the buildings. He knew it was cold but for no one to be seen… it just did not look right. Schneider also noticed that a naval officer was in charge of the gate. That was very strange…

  “Please pull your truck over there,” the officer said as he pointed over to the trucks already parked in front of the first building.

  Schneider thanked the officer and drove the truck down the short gravel road toward the building. The gravel crunched loudly as the heavy truck neared the building. As the truck had started down the road, a single soldier stepped out of the door of the first building and waited for the truck to park. They pulled up to the building and the soldier led the truck to a parking space to the left of the six trucks. Once parked, the soldier approached Schneider and Rauch as they climbed down.

  “Sir, please gather your men and follow me,” snapped the young soldier very matter-of-factly. Rauch noted the SS lapel tabs. He wondered what the SS were doing out here; first the navy and now the SS. The rest of the men climbed down from the back of the truck and assembled in front of the truck. It was still very cold.

  “This way,” said the soldier, walking off toward the second building.

  The gravel crunched under their feet as they trudged up to the door of the second building. The earlier snow had stopped and the sun was peeking out from the smattering of clouds above. The sun’s rays felt warm on the faces of the men. Finally some semblance of heat!

  “Well, at least it looks as though the rest of today will be nicer,” remarked Rauch, noticing the sunshine that they had not seen in several days. The soldier opened the door and led the group inside the building. The first thing they all felt was warmth! That in itself was such a welcome. It had been days since they had felt warm. The soldier led them down a short hall and into a small windowless room with tables and chairs.

  “Please have a seat and make yourselves comfortable. Someone will be here in a few minutes to brief you on the situation.” The soldier left the room through a door in the rear. He locked it on the way out.

  Schneider looked at Rauch puzzled as the rest of the men settled around the room. Rauch sat down, took off his hat and gloves, savoring the warm room. It was then that Schneider heard a soft clunk as the front door was being sealed. Seconds later he realized they were in trouble as a faint hissing sound could be heard.

  “GAS!” he screamed as he stood up. Several men rushed the front door. It was locked and did not budge. They tried the back door. No luck there either.

  Rauch stood up and exclaimed, “They would not dare...!” as he felt his head begin to spin and staggered over to the table for support. Surely to God they would not do this to me, an SS major, Rauch thought, looking around the room at everyone else. Several men scrambled to all sides of the room frantically trying to find a way out. As hard as they tried, the faster they fell.

  “Sir,” screamed Schneider, grabbing Rauch’s arm. In the haze of his mind he looked Schneider directly in the eyes. He saw outright horror. With that his last vision on this earth, Rauch’s vision began to get darker and darker, closing in from all sides. Rauch fell to the floor. He never felt the result of the fall.

  Soon it was all over as they all lay around the room, dead.

  Rauch had been right early on. This was an important mission…extremely important. This was so significant that there could be no survivors to report on it. So all twenty-six witnesses were now silenced along with all of the other teams of soldiers that had completed the same mission, with more to come. But the boxes had been delivered and were now on their way to safety. A high price had been paid. But these boxes contained riches and secrets beyond the dreams of men; riches that lead men to do the most evil things; riches that had made men do evil things since the beginning of time... Gold!

  CHAPTER TEN

  Wednesday, May 9, 1945

  A Secluded Small Inlet on the Southern Coast of Brazil; 7:20 p.m.

  Darkness was beginning to pull its curtain on the day as the German submarine U-1055 sat submerged about two kilometers offshore. As part of the Ubootwaffe, the U-1055 was a Type VIIC submarine, one of 568 boats commissioned. She was built at the F. Krupp Germaniawerft AG in Kiel, Germany and launched in early 1944.

  In this deep dark hiding place the submarine was well hidden from anyone in the area. The air in the submarine was dank and musty; what one would expect after a several week journey from Germany with few opportunities to surface. To surface at sea was dangerous with all of the Allied shipping in the Atlantic. Along with the shipping came the deadly Allied destroyers and escorts, any one of them a mighty threat to the U-boat.

  The men only knew they were off the coast of somewhere. They longed for a bit of fresh air but realized that staying submerged was their best and safest way to wait for their next move. The crew had not been told anything about the boat’s mission. Most assumed it was another search and destroy mission against enemy ships in the immediate area. But this seemed a bit strange to be sitting still under the water waiting. Waiting for what?

  The crew’s morale had taken a hit during the long voyage with very little news. There was little news from home; no mail from family in three months. The last several times they refueled or restocked food, crew mail was not there. The crew had hoped this small respite was to meet another U-boat or transport ship to replenish their supplies with fresh fruits, vegetables and maybe even mail. But that was not the case.

  The crew and officers knew the war was not going well. The bits of news gleaned from a fe
w vague radio messages confirmed that the war in Germany was lost. Most of the sailors just wanted to get to the inevitable result so they could go home. That was a rarity for many in the U-boat service of Germany. Four out of five German U-boat sailors perished during the war. Those that served the U-boat fleet were aware of this nasty fact but never talked about it among themselves. To live was to beat the overwhelming odds of death.

  But they worried about their families back in Germany. They worried about what the Allies and the Russians might do once the war ended. Would they take out their frustrations on the civilians? Punish those they thought aided the cause? Wild thoughts careened through the minds of the crew. These thoughts along with the sheer exhaustion of a long war took a huge toll on the men. The officers recognized this and tried to keep morale up.

  They cruised underwater most of the time, surfacing only to clear the air when able. This meant their cruising speed averaged less than 7 knots (about 8 miles per hour). Surface supply ships transferred food and water to the U-boat so they would not waste time stopping in a port to replenish supplies. For that matter, what port would be open to a German U-boat in 1945? With Germany losing the war on all sides, only their Axis ally, Japan, welcomed them. But Japan was on the other side of the world and in a world of hurt as well.

  Kapitän zur See Ernst Adler also did not want to give anyone a clue as to their destination. His orders were to simply sail to a point on a map and ensure only those necessary knew their course. The captain and crew knew nothing of their cargo, wrapped securely in heavy canvas and stacked throughout the close confines of the boat. Adler was like his crew; he just wanted to get this over with and go home.

  Much had changed since they sailed several weeks ago from Rostock. Germany surrendered. Hitler was dead. Admiral Donitz took over as the Reichsprasident of Nazi Germany. After twenty days, he surrendered to Field Marshal Montgomery. Everything was in chaos. But the U-boat captain had his orders.

  The orders were very specific. He was to deliver a load of cargo to a destination. He was to speak to no one. Only the first officer and navigator knew the course or terminus. Once at the destination, he would unload and await orders from the German commander on site. The crew knew nothing.

  Ernst Adler knew the war was lost but told no one aboard. The coded message he received a few days before confirmed it. He had no idea about his next orders. He hoped there would be no orders. Then he could confer with his officers and crew to decide where to surrender. But those thoughts were for after the mission.

  “Raise periscope,” Captain Adler ordered, glancing around the control room looking for his second in command. “Where is Hientz?” he asked.

  “Here, sir,” answered First Officer Willie Hientz, popping up through the watertight hatch from below. “I was just checking our position with navigation.”

  “All in order?” asked the captain, calm but clearly concerned.

  “Yes, sir. We have reached our position.”

  “Up periscope,” ordered Adler.

  Captain Adler turned his attention to the rising scope and reached up and turned his cap backwards so that the bill would not interfere with his use of the periscope. He pulled the two side handles down snapping them into position perpendicular to the periscope tube still slowly rising from the deck. As the periscope rose into position, he draped his arms over the two handles and peered into the single eyepiece. The captain scanned the horizon about the U-boat and slowly settled his view back on the shoreline ahead. He reached over and changed his viewfinder magnification to 6x, trying to cut through the increasing darkness.

  He could see that the U-boat was at the head of a small inlet. At the far end of the shoreline were several lights and he could barely make out two piers and several small buildings. There was nothing fancy about this “port”. It looked as though it was made for a fishing boat, not a U-boat.

  “Willie, you have the information about the signals?” asked Adler.

  “Yes, sir. We are to surface and signal the shore with two blue-colored light flashes at exactly 20.00 hours. Exactly ten seconds later we will be signaled with four white flashes. Our signal to proceed will be two blue light flashes followed by a red light flash. We are to maneuver the boat to the pier and report to the commander there.”

  “Sounds pretty straightforward to me,” mumbled the captain.

  “Sir?” asked Hientz, not hearing him.

  “Very well,” Captain Adler said clearly this time, looking at his watch. “In two minutes we will see how this goes.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Hientz. “Make ready to surface!”

  The order was repeated several times as it was spread throughout the submarine. One could hear the crew moving into position and stowing non-essential gear. All eyes were on the captain as the remainder of the two minutes passed.

  “Surface the boat!” ordered the captain.

  “Surface the boat, aye, sir!” returned the first officer.

  “Blow ballast!” shouted the first officer.

  “Aye, aye, sir,” came the reply.

  The crew jumped into action as they opened valves, pulled levers, bringing the once silent U-boat to life. There was a loud hissing sound as high-pressure air forced the water from the ballast tanks, causing the U-boat to shudder slightly as it began to rise. The captain held on to the periscope, checking all around the horizon as the boat shifted as it began its journey to the surface. All was clear.

  “Down periscope!” commanded the captain. “Hientz, post a normal watch and join me on the bridge.”

  “Aye, sir,” answered Hientz as he watched the crew move into position by the ladder. One of the crewmen climbed to the top of the ladder and began to turn the locking mechanism to open the hatch.

  As the U-boat broke the surface, the crewman pushed open the hatch receiving a face full of warm salt water. He did not hesitate as he and two other crewmen with binoculars and dressed in black rocketed up the ladder and took their posts. The lookouts stationed themselves in their perches on the sides of the bridge and began immediately scanning every direction, paying particular attention to the sea behind them.

  “All clear, sir.” The quiet call came from one of the lookouts. Another all-clear signal came from the second lookout. Adler turned to his first officer and moved over to the ladder.

  “Well, let’s go see what our answer is,” said the captain as he turned his cap around and grabbed his watch binoculars from the bin behind the ladder to the deck above. He hopped up a rung and a few hops later emerged on the wet deck of the conning tower of U-1055 with the first officer immediately behind him.

  The men were greeted by clear, dark sky with the submarine lying within sight of the pier area. As the lookouts continuously scanned the area in all directions, the captain turned to Hientz.

  “Still all clear, sir,” quietly reported one of the lookouts again.

  “Lookouts report all clear, Captain,” Hientz relayed to the captain.

  “Very well. Break out the signal device.”

  Hientz opened a small locker on the bridge and pulled out a signal gun. He wrestled with the colored lenses, finally picking out the blue one. Placing it on the top of the rail, he pulled out the power cable, flipped open the power socket and plugged in the signal gun. He placed the blue lens on the opening.

  “Signal the pier,” said the captain as he brought his binoculars up to watch for the response.

  Hientz raised the signal gun, made a second check to see that the blue lens was attached, pointed it toward the shore and flashed the gun twice and started a ten-second countdown in his head. Everyone was silent as they waited. 3, 2, 1 … the four white flashes came in from the pier.

  “So far, so good,” said the captain.

  A few seconds later they see a blue light flash twice followed by a single red flash from the pier.

  “Okay, take us in, Willie,” said the captain as he let his binoculars fall to his chest.

  “Aye, sir,” answered the first
officer. He bent over to get closer to the bridge microphone and keyed the microphone. “All ahead slow, bearing 230 degrees.”

  “All ahead slow, bearing 230 degrees, aye, sir,” a raspy radio response came from the control room below. Almost instantly there was a slight vibration as the electric engines kicked in and the U-boat began to slowly move toward shore.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Wednesday, May 9, 1945

  A Small Secluded Inlet on the Southern Coast of Brazil; 7:45 p.m.

  Leutnant Udo Trox lowered his field glasses and turned to an orderly. “Go tell the major another U-boat is coming in.”

  “Yes, sir,” snapped the orderly as he immediately turned and strode purposefully toward the command building about 25 meters away, nestled under several large trees surrounded by jungle. From above, the command building was impossible to see. And that was the way the Germans wanted it. Even from ground level the small building had been built under several trees with low branches. At first glance anyone coming down the small inlet would never see the building unless they knew exactly where to look.

  This post was secret. So secret only a mere handful of officers back in Germany even knew of its existence. Now, with the fall of Germany, even less knew of the base. And they had so many other issues on their mind, such as survival, that they did not care about this God-forsaken place. Those “lucky” enough to be here were now wondering about their futures with only scant information about home getting through.

  Leutnant Trox stepped over to a makeshift desk near the end of the pier and switched on a red-lensed small flashlight and checked his records quickly. Then he switched the light off. There was a single light bulb hanging above the desk but they did not want to use it and reveal their location. For weeks now U-boat after U-boat had come in, unloaded their cargo and sulked away into the darkness. He wondered how long this parade would last. He wondered what was in the hundreds of boxes and their destination. But he knew better than to ask any questions; that is if he valued his own life. The base commander, SS Sturmbannführer Kurt Bayer, the Gestapo and the hundreds of heavily armed crack SS troops that lurked around the base made him decide that he would do his job and not get involved in anything else. Anyone who crossed the Gestapo had a tendency to disappear, never to be heard from again. Trox simply wanted to get home; the sooner the better. Little did he know that there was little home to go back to. The home he had left behind was quite different now. He had no idea that Germany had been defeated, Hitler was dead and the Allies swarmed all over Germany.