Once the torpedoes were safely in their firing tubes, Würdemann ordered U-506 to submerge and set a course for the Ship Shoal buoy, which marked the entrance to the Mississippi River channel. The commander scanned the seas through the periscope. He spotted several fishing boats and one unloaded tanker that was so far away he declined to chase it. He knew that more ships would soon come along.
As darkness fell, Würdemann ordered the submarine back up to the surface and continued hunting, now just a few miles from the Ship Shoal buoy.
At approximately 1:00 A.M., Würdemann noted in his war diary that a shadow could be seen, meaning a ship was approaching. He changed course slightly so that his sub could lie in wait for it. Commander Würdemann knew that at night he could operate without the slightest risk of being detected. He’d be able to get so close to the ship that his torpedoes were almost guaranteed to find their mark.
PART II
10
TORPEDOES IN THE NIGHT
The first torpedo tore into the Heredia with a tremendous explosion, causing the old ship to shudder. Sonny struggled to sit up in the top bunk of the cramped, dark cabin. Did we hit the pier in New Orleans?
Then, BOOM! The second torpedo rocked the boat so hard that Sonny almost fell to the floor.
Ray turned on the cabin light and it flickered, casting an eerie glow on his ashen face. He was now standing next to the bunk bed.
Sonny felt his father’s hands on his shoulders.
“Put on your life preserver,” Ray barked. “Tie it tight and stay right here.”
Confused and afraid, Sonny could see water sloshing around his father’s ankles as his dad opened the door to his mother’s cabin.
Snatching his life jacket from the peg next to his bunk, Sonny fumbled with the straps. The life jacket’s bulk pushed awkwardly against his ears as he pulled the ties together across his chest. Is Dad coming back? Sonny wondered, his fear growing as more water swirled into the cabin. The ship must be sinking! He could hear shouting in the hallway. He considered hopping off the bunk and running for the lifeboats, as he had been taught to do.
He was about to holler for his father when Ray burst back into the room. He was followed by Ina and Lucille. Lucille’s life vest was secured over her nightclothes, while Ina, her face stricken, had grabbed a coat to put over her nightgown, and secured a life vest over it.
Ray lifted Sonny off the top bunk and tugged at his son’s life jacket to be sure it was secure. “You did a good job. Now, hold my hand and don’t let go!”
The family left the cabin and entered the corridor, hand in hand. Pale blue lights lining the passageway flickered. They saw Mr. Beach just outside his cabin door, but he was going back inside rather than going to the lifeboat station. Ray shouted, “What are you doing? Head up on deck!”
“Got to get my suitcases!” shouted Mr. Beach. Just as he ducked inside his cabin, the lights went out for good.
Sonny felt like everything was in slow motion. His father gripped his fingers so tightly it hurt. But knowing his dad was there helped Sonny feel less scared.
At the end of the corridor a sailor swung two flashlights in wide arcs. The family sloshed that way, the water now up to Sonny’s thighs.
“Don’t come down here! Take the stairs to the deck!” the sailor shouted. “We’ve been torpedoed!”
Sonny was confused: This was not the usual route to their lifeboat station. And how did the ship get torpedoed with those guards standing watch? But he focused on keeping up with his dad’s long strides.
Hurrying up the steps, Sonny saw a bit of light coming from the deck above. It seemed to take forever to climb those stairs and escape the rushing water below. People were shouting on deck, and Sonny wondered if the Heredia might be on fire.
Just as the family reached the top of the steps, more disaster struck.
The ship suddenly lurched to starboard, and they were slammed by an avalanche of churning water. Sonny’s hand was torn from his father’s grasp. The boy felt himself tumbling underwater as if inside a washing machine, not sure which way the surface was. He opened his eyes but saw only blackness, which added to his confusion and fear. Someone grabbed one of his legs and he kicked away. His lungs ached for air as he thrashed wildly. He clawed at the water, panicked that the ocean would never let him go.
Ten seconds later, his head broke the surface. Sonny came up gasping for air, then coughed up seawater. He swiveled around, desperately looking for his parents and sister. They were gone. He was alone in the ocean alongside the ship, terrified.
Sonny tried to scream, but a wave slapped him in the face, and he swallowed more seawater.
Now he wondered if he was dreaming, because it was so bright around him that he thought it was daylight. Am I dead? Is this a nightmare? The eight-year-old didn’t know that the brilliant light came from a powerful searchlight on the conning tower of U-506.
Sonny tried to make sense of what he could see. He knew he was in the ocean—could feel the swells rising and falling—but he also heard voices coming from somewhere above him. He looked toward the sound and saw what he thought was the center of the Heredia, the uppermost deck above the bridge, where the machine guns were mounted. But everything was at a crazy angle, and it took him a moment to process it. Then he understood: the ship was tilted to starboard, and the entire stern was underwater. The rest of the ship stuck out of the ocean at a 45-degree angle.
In an incredible stroke of luck, Sonny surfaced just a few feet from a short steel ladder leading to the upper deck. He swam to it and tried to climb its five or six steps.
Sonny only managed to scale a couple of steps before sliding back down. The angle of the ship made climbing the ladder almost impossible. Holding on to the ladder, the boy shouted for help, but only a faint croak came from his mouth. Where’s Dad? I need him now!
Again the boy attempted to ascend the ladder, and this time when he fell off, he landed right on top of a man. His silent prayer was answered, but it wasn’t Ray who came to the rescue. The thin, gawky, balding man whom Sonny fell against was George Conyea, a fellow passenger from New Orleans.
“We gotta get up there!” shouted Conyea. “You try again, and I’ll be right behind you!”
This time the boy made it to the top, with Conyea right behind him.
“You stand by the wire rail,” Conyea shouted, “and hold on to it!”
Sonny could only nod; too much was happening, and he was shaking from a combination of cold, exhaustion, and fear.
Conyea pointed to the wire cable supported by posts that encircled the upper deck. That’s when Sonny realized there was another man standing on the top deck: Captain Erwin Colburn. The captain, still wearing his white uniform, was struggling to free a life raft from its brackets. Binoculars dangled from his neck as he cursed at the stubborn raft.
“Where’s my family?” Sonny shouted. Silence. Neither Conyea nor the captain said a word, nor did they even meet Sonny’s eyes. It was a crushing blow for the boy. He choked back a sob, thinking his mother, father, and Lucille had all been swallowed by the ocean.
Both Conyea and the captain stooped and resumed pulling on the raft, even kicking at the brackets that held it in place.
Searching for any sign of his family, Sonny looked down at the black five-foot swells sliding beneath the ship. From the vantage point of the upper deck, the boy now realized just how desperate his situation was. The entire stern of the ship was submerged. The radio shack and lifeboats had been destroyed, and jagged pieces of metal protruded from the lower deck just behind where he stood. It looked as if the Heredia would break into two pieces at any minute.
Sonny also saw the source of the light. About 200 yards away, the searchlight from the sub cut through the darkness, seeming to point directly at the boy. He wasn’t sure what the sub might do next, but Sonny was thankful for the light, as it allowed him to continue scanning the ocean’s surface for any signs of his family. Although he could hear distant shouts for help, he
couldn’t see anyone, nor did the shouts sound like members of his family. Are these two men and I the only ones left on the ship? He shivered in the cool night air. His only clothing was his wet shorts, and he felt colder now than he had in the water.
Sonny watched Conyea and Captain Colburn move to the same side of the raft and pull together, still without result. The raft was small, just a simple four-foot-by-four-foot balsa wood frame. Gray canvas was wrapped around the balsa wood but did not cover the middle. It reminded Sonny of a sandbox with no bottom. He realized that even if they got it free, it would not be like sitting in a boat, as they would have only the frame to hold on to. But no raft at all meant a death sentence, and even the eight-year-old boy knew that—the ocean was clearly pulling the ship down. More of the ship was underwater now than had been just a minute earlier, when Sonny had first reached the gun deck.
Still clutching the wire cable, Sonny noticed movement where the ocean covered the submerged part of the ship on the starboard side. A man burst from the water and swam toward him. The man was his father!
* * *
Commander Erich Würdemann stood on the bridge with some of his men and quietly watched the stricken Heredia wallowing in the water. He would have preferred sinking an oil tanker rather than a merchant ship. Still, he was satisfied that the Heredia was another kill, adding to his tonnage, just as Admiral Dönitz had instructed. Würdemann did not want to use another torpedo, so he waited to make sure the Heredia went to the bottom of the sea. If needed, he’d use his guns to put holes near the waterline of the vessel and speed the process.
The commander watched small figures moving on the ship’s uppermost deck, where machine guns were mounted, but he was unconcerned. The bow section of the ship extended from the sea at such a steep angle that he surmised the guns would be useless. He was also unconcerned about aircraft. Even if the radio operator had sent out an SOS, it would take an aircraft at least a half hour to arrive on the scene. If an airplane appeared, the U-boat commander would simply shut off his light and move away. And if another ship came to pick up survivors, he’d submerge to periscope depth and torpedo that ship as well. Efficiency was what Dönitz’s training was all about, and Würdemann lived it.
The German U-boat commander watched the men on the upper deck of the ship struggling with what was probably the life raft. He could see a child standing behind them. Someone else was in the water, swimming toward the group on the deck. Unlike the U-507 commander, Schacht, Erich Würdemann had no plans to talk to any survivors to learn more about the ship or to wish them luck. He could estimate the tonnage of the ship, and now all he really cared about was seeing it sink with his own eyes. But if the group on the ship’s upper deck did not leave the vessel soon, he might fire a warning shot to indicate that they’d best get in the water immediately. It was ships he was after, not human lives. While death was a casualty of ships being torpedoed, the Germans did not shoot those who had survived.
11
INA, LUCILLE, AND A SINKING SHIP
INA
When the Downs family was escaping from the lower deck of the Heredia and the ship lurched, rushing water tore Lucille from her mother’s grip. Ina heard Lucille scream, “Mother, where are you?” Then the young mother found herself underwater, tumbling in the churning ocean, more terrified than she had ever been in her life.
An eddy of water pinned Ina against a wall, beneath a ladder to an upper deck. As the swirling black sea rose, Ina felt helpless. She was trapped, unable to move and unsure where her children and husband were. Then in a split second the eddy shifted and pushed her upward. She was able to grab on to a window and perch on the sill, looking out toward the sea as the ship groaned and shuddered beneath her. She glanced around for her family but saw no one. Self-preservation kicked in, and she heard a voice in her head say, Jump or you’ll go down with the ship.
She pushed away from the ship, feeling her stomach in her throat. She fell through the air and into the water.
When Ina’s head broke the surface, she felt herself covered in a warm gooey substance. It was oil from the ship’s engines that was spreading from the sinking vessel. Gasping for air, she looked around frantically for her family, desperate for Ray and the children. She tried to clear her vision with an oil-soaked hand. There was no one around, and the only source of light was on the other side of the ship. She didn’t know what it was or how she’d reach it.
She attempted to call out for help but could only manage a gasp. The acrid smell of oil stung her throat, and panic squeezed her airway to a sliver. Oil was in her eyes, limiting her sight, but she was well aware that she was utterly alone, drifting away from the ship.
Just minutes before, Ina had been safe with her family. Now she felt like she was in a nightmare. But it was all too real. She remembered the sequence of events that had resulted in her being here, in the oily water at night.
Before going to bed, she’d lingered over trimming her fingernails and brushing her hair, not knowing why except that it was to be her family’s last night on board. Later, unable to sleep, she’d thought about her family’s future. She had faith that, with Ray’s mechanical skills, they could settle back into a productive life in Texas. Then her quiet, pensive night had been blown apart with the blast that threw Lucille out of her bunk, catapulting Ina into action.
“Oh, Mother, was that a torpedo?” Lucille cried out. Without a thought, Ina grabbed their life jackets from under the lower bunk. The lights flickered, but she still had the presence of mind to knot the ties of the life jackets firmly.
She couldn’t remember exactly what had happened next. One minute she had been climbing the mahogany stairs, holding Lucille’s hand, and the next minute she was tumbling alone in a river of seawater cascading over the deck.
Where is Lucille now? Ina thought, and her tears mixed with the ocean surrounding her.
* * *
LUCILLE
When the ship suddenly lurched as the family reached the top of the stairs, Lucille found herself trapped by a seething whirlpool on a lower deck. The water around her boiled and swirled. Terrible noises were coming from the structure that had seemed so solid and indestructible just hours before. Though she was a strong, independent girl, being torn from her family in the darkness shocked her to her core, leaving a frightened, panicked child screaming for her mother. She was flailing around, unsure what to do next, when a voice called out to her from above.
“Lucille, I’m coming to help you,” said a man. He quickly descended a ladder from a steeply sloped upper deck that was pointing toward the sky. Then he let go and jumped into the water next to her. She recognized him as one of the friendly sailors who had doted on her and Sonny throughout the trip. He spoke with a curious accent that wasn’t Spanish and wasn’t anything she’d heard in Texas. His name was Roy, she remembered. He was the second mate on the Heredia, a tall, tan, and handsome man, Roy Sorli.
“Come with me,” he said. “We can’t stay in here; we need to get outside the ship.”
“But my mother and dad—I need to find them and Sonny,” she pleaded.
“Yes, we will,” he answered. “First we need to climb back up there where I was and jump off the other side into the ocean. We need to get away from the ship; it’s going to sink. I’m sure your parents are outside in one of the life rafts. They must be looking for you.”
He pulled her from the swirling water and pushed her toward the ladder he had descended. When they reached the top, he boosted Lucille up to the edge of the listing hull. The steel beneath her feet was vibrating with the horrific noises of explosions as bulkheads blew and water rushed into every available space. Just as Sorli climbed to the edge, another sailor’s head popped out of a porthole.
“Sorli, is that you?” the man asked as he looked around.
“Robello, you need to get out of there before the ship goes down!” Sorli shouted. “We’re about to jump.”
“I know, I was trying the door—I thought she was going to
roll over,” the sailor responded. “I think I can get out this way.”
The sailor wiggled one shoulder, then the other, through the tiny porthole, pushing up with his hands until his whole naked body slipped out. Soon he was next to them, his skin glowing in the glare of the searchlight from the U-boat. Sorli took off his jacket and handed it to the sailor, providing the naked man with a shred of protection against the sea.
They stepped to the edge of the hull, where there was nothing but darkness beyond. Sorli grabbed Lucille’s quivering hand. “We jump on three and swim as fast as we can away from the boat,” he said.
Lucille looked down at the water, terrified of leaping into the abyss. But she had to put her trust in this man until her parents found her. “I’m ready,” she said softly.
“One, two, three!” Sorli hollered, and together they were falling through the humid air, toward an unknown fate.
Lucille hit the water with a smack, and her life vest rose up and covered her face. She frantically pulled it back into place. The first thing she saw was the sagging hulk of the Heredia, still illuminated by the U-boat searchlight.
Sorli tugged on her arm. “Keep your head down and swim,” said Sorli. “We have to swim fast.”
There was no time to ask the questions that nagged at Lucille. Where are the lifeboats? When will I find Mother and Dad? How long will we be in the water?
“Swim, Lucille, don’t stop. We need to be far from the ship when it goes down,” he said. “You’re a brave girl and a good swimmer. Keep swimming.”
Just then a louder explosion sent shock waves through the water, and the stern of the ship completely disappeared beneath the waves. The water swirled around Lucille, tugging at her pajamas. The hissing and spitting of the sinking ship sounded like an angry dragon ready to devour her. She swam as hard as she could, trying to keep up with Sorli and Robello.
Attacked at Sea Page 6