For the performance of his vessel Loewe relied on his experienced Chief Engineer, Kaptlt. (I) Fritz Förster. A native of Krefeld who was only a year old when his father was killed in World War I, Förster had entered the Navy in 1933 as a simple stoker, but his abilities soon won him promotion into the engineering officer cadets of “Crew 33.” He passed his examinations in April 1935 and thereafter logged engineering assignments aboard the cruiser Leipzig and pocket battleships Deutschland and Admiral Graf Spee. In the planned expansion of the surface fleet Förster doubtless would have held an important position, but by 1941 he, too, found himself reassigned to U-boat duty. Like Loewe, he reported to U-505 while the vessel was still under construction, and the two developed a good relationship. As chief engineer Förster was almost equal to Loewe, responsible for maintaining the submarine’s capabilities and seaworthiness. Loewe considered him “a real pro who mastered the complicated instruments and technical installations on board.”9
Serving with Loewe were two very able watch officers. The I.W.O. or First Watch Officer, Oblt.z.S. Herbert Nollau, held the same rank and was older as Loewe’s subordinate than would be U-505’s later commanding officer. A graduate of the 1936 class of naval officers, Nollau survived the sinking of the heavy cruiser Blücher during the Norwegian campaign, then put in nine months with a harbor defense flotilla at Oslo before transferring to submarines. Popular with the crew, Nollau once led U-505 in a fruitless two-hour pursuit of a herd of sea tortoises to try to catch a fresh dinner. Although Nollau’s relations with his captain were not particularly close, they worked effectively together through Loewe’s departure. When the latter fell ill with appendicitis on the third cruise, Nollau effectively assumed command of U-505 for the final month of the patrol. Three months later Nollau received command of the Type IXC/40 boat U-534, which he would captain for the rest of the war.10
Second Watch Officer Gottfried Stolzenburg came to U-505 from the merchant marine as a 29-year-old reservist on his first combat assignment, but whose experience in seamanship and navigation proved invaluable to Loewe. He moreover represented the first of the submarine’s officers to have been a member of the Nazi Party (officially the “National Socialist German Workers’ Party,” Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiterpartei, or NSDAP), which he joined in May 1933 as member no. 1,540,181.11 German naval officers have often been characterized as “Nazis” on the basis of impressions of their wartime captors and interrogators—hardly impartial sources—or because of their expressed loyalty to Hitler, a criterion not only variable by degree and time, but too vague in meaning.12 With the availability of microfilmed Nazi Party membership records formerly held by the Berlin Document Center, concrete documentation of a specific choice offers a firmer basis for evaluation. Yet even here we lack knowledge of the context in which an individual chose to join the Party.
Stolzenberg’s decision possibly reflected the growth of the Nazi-affiliated SA (Sturmabteilung, storm troopers) within the rank-and-file German merchant marine, which pressured many officers to also join either the SA or the Party to maintain their positions— particularly in a profession rendered increasingly insecure by the collapse of world trade during the Great Depression. (Germany’s premier ace in the early days of the war, Günther Prien, also came to the navy as a former merchant marine officer and had also joined the Nazi Party in 1932.) In accordance with Wehrmacht regulations then in effect, Stolzenburg surrendered active membership in the Party upon activation from the reserves in 1938, although his Party membership doubtless played a key role in his nomination as a reserve officer. He remained aboard U-505 until wounded in November 1942, and eventually exercised command of training boats U-11 and U-554, ending the war as captain of the Type XXI submarine U-2543.13
Also of note were two young midshipmen (Fähnriche zur See), Horst Doedens and Werner Jacobi, who shipped aboard U-505 in Danzig on September 26, 1941, as part of their training. Although they were officer candidates, their onboard status equaled that of NCOs subordinated to the watch officers. They remained aboard until May 1942, enduring their baptism of fire in U-505’s patrol off West Africa. Doedens eventually became Second Watch Officer aboard U-845 and survived its sinking on March 10, 1944, to spend the rest of the war in captivity. Jacobi was apparently responsible for failing to provision U-505 with the proper soap supply before an early patrol, thereby earning the wrath of I.W.O. Nollau. When Jacobi later discovered he had been assigned as watch officer to U-534 under Nollau, he immediately requested a reassignment, which unhappily led to his death aboard U-973 in March 1944.14
Förster’s and Stolzenburg’s service aboard U-505 outlasted their commander, whose appendicitis cut short his second combat patrol and forced a quick return to base. Following his recovery, Loewe—now promoted Korvettenkapitän—returned to staff duties at Dönitz’s headquarters, where he continued to play a role in the Battle of the Atlantic in evaluating weaponry and tactics reports and directly interviewing captains of returning U-boats for their experiences. In this capacity Loewe could at least follow the fate of his old command.15
U-505’s second commanding officer represented the wartime generation of U-boat officers needed for the rapidly expanding U-boat fleet, men who enjoyed successful apprenticeships as watch officers but would encounter far greater difficulties as captains. At the time of U-505’s commissioning in August 1941, Dönitz’s front-line strength amounted to 64 U-boats, with 120 engaged in training or trials. By September 1942, when Oblt.z.S. Peter Zschech assumed command, front-line strength had nearly tripled to 172 submarines, with 194 in training.16 Providing this fleet with officers and men necessitated the promotion of younger, less-experienced men. Yet, the choice for U-505’s new captain did not seem to represent a compromise.
Nine years Loewe’s junior and two years younger than Nollau, Zschech was born October 1, 1918, in Constantinople (now Istanbul), where his father, Dr. Bernhard Zschech, served throughout World War I as a naval surgeon to German naval forces assisting their Turkish allies. His son entered as the youngest of the naval officer class of 1936, whose 560 members dwarfed the select “Crews” of Loewe’s period. Curtailed training also characterized the younger officer’s early service: where Loewe and his colleagues spent 54 months as cadets, the members of Crew 36 received their commissions in only 30 months. Nevertheless, Zschech’s ranking of 82nd among more than 350 executive officers (the class included 200 engineering, medical, weapons, and administrative officer cadets) testified to an above-average ability that led him to the Navy’s destroyers, where he saw combat aboard the Hermann Schoemann (July 1939-April 1940) and the Friedrich Ihn (April-October 1940).17
Zschech’s transfer to the U-boat arm in October 1940 brought Dönitz a young but seemingly self-confident and accomplished officer. After completing his submarine training, he distinguished himself as an instructor at the torpedo school in Mürwik. Zschech, a colleague later recalled, “was one of the most intelligent officers of his Crew. I heard from a Crewkamerad that, if there was anything to write, often they looked for what Peter did, and followed his lead…after some months he effectively led the training flotilla during exercises, the actual commander gave Peter free rein to do what he wanted.”18
In late August 1941, Zschech joined U-124 as the II. W.O. (Second Watch Officer) under its new commander, Kaptlt. Johann Mohr, who would continue the success bequeathed him by the boat’s original captain, Wilhelm Schulz. Zschech served aboard U-124 for four patrols (the last three as First Officer), in the course of which the U-boat sank the British light cruiser HMS Dunedin, a Free French corvette, and 20 merchant vessels totaling nearly 90,000 tons, as well as torpedoing three additional merchantmen and participating in the rescue of survivors of the German raider Atlantis and supply ship Python. As I.W.O. Zschech assumed much responsibility and personally conducted the torpedo attacks made on the surface, and thus could claim a fair share of this success. When he transferred at the end of June 1942, Zschech could take pride in his role in making U-124
the third most successful U-boat of World War II.19
Doubtless Oblt.z.S. Zschech expected to expand this legacy when he assumed command of U-505 on September 6, 1942. A crewman described him as “young, handsome, and cultured…intelligent but a little aloof…very eager to get at the enemy,” leading U-505’s veterans to suspect their new commander of suffering from Halsschmerzen, the “sore throat” that afflicted young U-boat captains and could only be remedied by the award of the Knight’s Cross.20 Zschech never suspected the first vessel he sank would also be his last.
U-505’s fourth operational cruise brought her back to the Caribbean, where Zschech dispatched a 7,200-ton British merchantman on November 7, 1942. Three days later a British Hudson aircraft surprised the boat on the surface southeast of Trinidad, dropping a depth-charge that detonated on the U-boat’s aft deck. The explosion was so strong it destroyed the attacking aircraft and caused severe damage to the submarine’s hull, engines, and many of her operating systems. The attack also injured II. W. O. Stolzenburg, who suffered head wounds, broken ribs, and a punctured lung, and another crewman who also sustained serious injuries. U-505 just managed to limp home on one diesel engine, reportedly the most severely-damaged U-boat ever to return to base during the war. The extent of the damage was, if anything, underestimated through the remarkable feat of the crew in nursing their crippled craft more than 4,700 nautical miles home; they even managed to restore a limited diving capacity. The aggressive Zschech even attempted an extreme-range torpedo attack on a freighter during the return voyage.21
Still, little satisfaction accrued from this achievement. Although Zschech retained the axe-symbol on the conning tower to maintain continuity with Loewe (adding the Olympic rings on the front of the conning tower to represent his own “Crew 36,” the year of the Olympics), he sharply broke with many of his predecessor’s practices relating to the crew. A far more formal relationship between officers and other ranks now characterized the crew of U-505, doubtless reinforced by the submarine’s protracted stay in port to undergo repairs and refitting. From December 1942 through the end of June 1943, U-505 received 36 square meters of new pressure hull plating, a rebuilt port diesel engine, extensive interior repairs, and a new conning tower with an extended platform for a battery of new antiaircraft guns. But the extent of repairs necessary, combined with dockyard sabotage by French workers, severely curtailed U-505’s effectiveness: the next six attempts at departure from July through September 1943 resulted in returns to port with continuing mechanical problems or easily-sustained battle damage. During these three months U-505 managed only 32 days at sea.22
These delays and aborted sorties preyed on the crew’s morale, and above all on the captain. Far more significant, the boat and its crew began to earn a reputation as malingerers among submariners at Lorient: verses were composed about “the U-boat that sailed out every morning and was back every evening,” U-505 became known as a “drydock goat” (Werftbock), and Zschech himself came to be considered as a “true master of authentic sabotage” to avoid the risks of combat.23 Such remarks reflected a bitterness born of increasingly heavy losses. Of the 27 Type IXC U-boats that comprised the 2nd U-boat Flotilla with U-505 at Lorient in early March 1943, 13 had been sunk by early August. One of these was Zschech’s former U-124, which was lost with all hands in April. At the same time the scale of casualties became evident to Zschech through the loss of so many of his classmates and friends. From late April through August at least 24 officers from “Crew 36” were killed or captured while in command of U-boats.24
Professional disappointment, damaged prestige, and grief over the loss of comrades affected U-505’s commander despite his promotion on April 1, 1943, to Kapitänleutnant. Unfortunately he could not look to support from his crew, whom he had largely alienated by his conduct. According to crewman Hans Goebeler, Zschech treated his men in an arrogant manner, constantly running extra drills and exercises, insisting on formalities in the officers’ mess, and often displaying anger at subordinates. Where Loewe had respected “good luck” traditions and superstitions for crew morale, Zschech ignored them. His style did not encourage a sense of community with the crew. For example, on one occasion a soiled and sweating torpedoman moving through the wardroom was informed, “Get your filthy carcass out of the officer’s quarters!” Machinist’s Mate Karl Springer recalled, “Zschech was not an officer you could talk to, instead he just gave orders…. I suspect he had it in for us petty officers, because of some bad experiences he’d had as a midshipman.”25
Zschech lost his strongest support onboard with the transfer of his First Watch Officer, Oblt.z.S. Thilo Bode, in August 1943. Bode, slightly older than Zschech and a member of the same 1936 class of officers, had joined U-505 with his commander and immediately renewed their close prewar friendship. If relations with the lower ranks were strained, the captain at least enjoyed a sympathetic ear with his first officer. Moreover, at the time of his transfer Bode had begun to develop a better rapport with the crew, which might have helped bridge the emotional gulf between Zschech and his men. When he departed U-505, Bode paid tribute to “the splendid crew whose spirit I wish to see duplicated on my ship,” and praised the “enthusiasm, high courage, and good humor” they displayed. Unfortunately Bode could no longer assist an isolated Zschech as the captain approached his ultimate challenge.26
U-505 sailed again on October 9, 1943, and this time successfully traversed the Bay of Biscay. Within two weeks, however, the pressures building up inside Zschech boiled over. At 7:54 p.m. (Berlin time) on October 24, 1943, Kaptlt. Peter Zschech shot himself in the control room. He lingered more than 90 minutes before death overtook him at 9:29 p.m. The next morning his body, wrapped and sewn inside a hammock, was put over the side. The only U-boat commander to commit suicide in an action not involving the loss of his boat at last had found peace.27
As with many other aspects of U-505’s history, some mystery attends the circumstances of Zschech’s death. The U-boat’s war diary and all subsequent accounts of German eyewitnesses assert that the suicide occurred during an intensive pursuit and depth-charging by Allied vessels.28 Yet a review of all available Allied antisubmarine warfare operations on that date fails to reveal any actions, by either warship or aircraft, in the area of U-505’s location (approximately 600 miles west of Lisbon, Portugal).29 Such a discrepancy is not easily resolved, and the date of the event does not seem in question. If Zschech’s suicide did not result from an unnerving underwater attack, its attribution to such circumstances hardly makes the captain’s decision more justifiable or comprehensible, certainly not to his crew. Today the mystery may only be noted, and will likely never be solved.
In any case, Loewe offers perhaps the best verdict on the fate of his successor:
As an officer up to that time, he might have been considered a good average. Without doubt he was a capable seaman…But command of a sub demands a strong constitution, both physically and psychologically, and Zschech had reached a point where he no longer possessed either. Add to that his bad luck and lack of success…so it came about that at the end of his moral and physical strength, in a situation that was in no way critical, he lost his nerve and killed himself. The main responsibility for this lies not with Zschech, but with the leadership who failed to take him out of combat and did not recognize his condition. Here was a man asked to give more than he had.30
The officer who assumed command of U-505 at Zschech’s death was 26-year-old Oblt.z.S. Paul Meyer, the new First Watch Officer after Bode’s departure. Meyer represented an entirely different type of U-boat officer, one risen through the ranks. Enlisting in the Navy in 1936, the native of the Baltic town of Zoppot (now Sopot, Poland) first saw action aboard a German commerce raider, where his performance as a member of a prize crew that brought a captured Allied vessel to Germany earned him promotion as an officer. After eight months of duty aboard destroyer Z30, he received his U-boat training and joined U-505 in December 1942 as Second Watch Officer. He got along we
ll with Zschech, whom he found “very comradely.” At the same time Meyer proved very popular with the crew, his origins as an enlisted man permitting an ease and familiarity with the ranks not accorded to naval academy graduates. With more time as I.W.O. he, too, might have bridged the gap between Zschech and the crew. Instead, he found himself the acting commander of U-505 on the evening of October 24, 1943. To settle a shaken crew, Meyer promised to bring them safely back to port, if in return they did their utmost in fulfilling their duties. All promises were kept as Meyer carefully guided the boat back through the hazardous Bay of Biscay, arriving at Lorient on November 7.31
During Zschech’s tenure a complete turnover had occurred among U-505’s officers. The changes at First Watch Officer with Bode and Meyer have already been noted. Gottfried Stolzenburg, the original Second Watch Officer so badly wounded in the air attack on November 10, 1942, had been transferred to a “milk cow” U-boat for medical attention; Meyer had first replaced him after U-505 returned from that patrol. Following Meyer’s promotion, Lt.z.S.d.R. reservist Kurt Brey joined the crew as II.W.O. and, at age 36, was the oldest man (temporarily) on board. Also assigned to U-505 from October 1943 was Dr. Friedrich-Wilhelm Rosenmeyer, one of 243 naval surgeons who served on German U-boats during the war (the majority on the long-range patrols of Type IXC boats), 117 of whom would perish with their boats.32
Most significantly, the original Chief Engineer, Kaptlt. (I) Förster, served only 18 days on Zschech’s first patrol before transferring to U-514 and returning to Lorient for a shore assignment. His foreshortened final war cruise was merely to supervise the new chief engineer, Oberleutnant (Ingenieur) Josef Hauser, who assumed his duties on October 22, 1942, and would remain chief engineer through the day of U-505’s capture. Nicknamed der Waschbär (“the Raccoon”) for his preoccupation with his beard, Hauser was only 22 when he came aboard, several years junior to two NCO machinists under his command; Thilo Bode would later recall he displayed a very forward manner, although he looked more like a Boy Scout than an officer.33 Also on board for the first Zschech patrol was engineering midshipman Erich Altesellmeier, who received his promotion to Leutnant (I) only 11 days after the air attack that so badly damaged U-505 in November 1942. Altesellmeier later became chief engineer on U-377 and was lost with that vessel in January 1944.34
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