27. Oktober 1944
GEO INFO | ||||
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Dondangen | ![]() | |||
Windau | ![]() | |||
Libau | ![]() |
(The image from Historisches Marinearchiv
shows an e-boat of the same type.)
We are standing in front of the field post office with our luggage. The bus that is to take us to Windau leaves from here. Apart from the five of us officers, there are also some non-commissioned officers and enlisted men with us, who had also been held back.
We are in the Wehrmacht billets in Windau. Here we had all moved into a large room with wooden bunks and then sent scouts to the harbour to look for an embarkation opportunity to Danzig. In the meantime, I’ve pitched into my marching rations and am now lying replete and satisfied on my bunk. A soldier doesn’t need much to be happy. Our emissaries come back from the harbour command and report that no ships will be leaving for Germany in the next three to four days. The enlisted men are happy with this. They explained that they had plenty of time and wanted to wait quietly until the next ship would sail. But I want to get back as quickly as possible so that I can travel to Carola for a few extra days. So I get up from the bunk to have a look around the harbour myself. A fellow officer joins me. We don’t go to the commandant’s office, but straight to the war harbour. There is a vorpostenboot here, which we were told was leaving for Danzig. I go on board and ask the first officer if he can take us with him. He is very sorry and refuses on the grounds that they are not allowed to take passengers. I had barely left the ship and was still standing on the quay next to the boat with my comrade, undecided, when an elegant lady in furs appeared with a suitcase and boarded, followed by her husband and two children. The first officer greeted her with a polite bow and was so concerned about her that he didn’t even notice our angry looks.
Now we want to try the e-boats, some of which are moored in the harbour. So we head for thee-boat mother ship [1], and while my companion remains down on the quay, I climb up the swaying gangway. No sooner have I set foot on the first step than the whistle sounds on deck. The mate on watch is still trilling his signal when a messenger jumps to the steps to receive me. At first I was surprised, but then I remembered Köhler’s Flottenkalender (naval almanac), in whose stories the whistle was always blown when an officer came on deck. I let myself be reported to the flotilla commander[2] and express my desire to him. I’m in luck. He assents immediately. “Tonight three boats are leaving. They’re sticken and have to go to the dock in Gotenhafen. Report to the boat commanders. I’m sure they’ll take you with them.” No sooner said than done. We climb onto the first of the three e-boats moored next to each other. The commandant is a young sub-lieutenant. He agrees immediately. Now we hurry back to the quarters to collect our luggage. Another comrade joins us and the three of us board the e-boat.[3]
The boats cast off at nightfall. They leave the harbour at slow speed in line ahead, then turn sharply to the south and suddenly speed off at full steam. It is 10 o’clock in the evening. Gloom lies over the sea. The coast quickly sinks into the night-dark horizon before our eyes. The boats chase through the sea at high speed. They are travelling in line ahead. I stand on the aft deck of the lead boat and look out aft. The following boats are only vaguely recognisable. I have squeezed myself between a cable drum and the skylights on the stern so as not to slip off the deck. The boat has lifted its bow high into the air due to the high speed, while the stern is pressed deep into the water. The giddyly spinning propellers churn up the sea so that the swirling stern wave rears up to eye level, leaving behind a broad, whirling strip of foam that stands out clearly from the black sea with its bright white colour. The hull of the boat vibrates from the thrust of the engines at work. A dull hum runs through the hull, which hisses and rushes as it ploughs through the black sea, the spray and drizzle of the breakers hissing as they sweep across the deck. All these sounds, the humming engines, the rushing and hissing, gurgling and splashing water, the roaring headwind and the swinging pounding of the boat combine with the memory of my seafaring days[4] and the joy of my surprising return home into a single, jubilant happiness. The jubilation chokes my throat as I watch the boat shoot through the water and think of the surprise I will give Carola with my unexpected return. The boat is literally flying. It’s going home!
I get cold and carefully shift along deck to the foredeck. As I move, I look over the railing. Whirling foam shoots past the side of the boat. We are travelling at breakneck speed.
I climb down into the commandant’s brightly lit cabin. It’s a tiny room with just enough space for four seated people. The commandant also sits with us and answers the many curious questions. All three boats are damaged. The foremost one has a broken screw and has to sail carefully. That’s why it’s in the lead. We have to adjust to its speed and therefore can’t sail at full speed.[5] I’m left speechless. That wasn’t top speed yet! Our boat had taken a bomb hit that had damaged the forecastle and the conning tower. The front wall had been ripped open a little and from time to time the breakers and bow waves doused us with a shower of spray. Although the hole had been provisionally sealed, there was little protection. Again and again, the cold showers splashed into our cabin. The commandant had gone on deck and we had stretched out on the benches to get some sleep. But nothing came of it. It was too cramped and too wet. Small rivulets ran down into the cabin from the deck. Puddles of water were already forming on the floor, so we had to put our luggage on the benches. For a while, I can hold out, then I wriggle out of my corner and climb on deck. Abeam, numerous lights flash across the dark water: Libau! Shivering, I stand in the side passage next to the cabin. It is covered and offers some protection against the constant splashes. My coat is already quite damp. I’m freezing. Finally, I climb into the small bridge and stand next to the helmsman.
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- ↑ The 5th E-boat Flotilla and the 2nd E-boat Training Flotilla were based in Windau at the time. In principle, each flotilla had a replenishment ship; however, the replenishment ship “Hermann von Wissmann” of the 5th E-boat Flotilla had been recalled home on 1 October. It was therefore the e-boat replenishment ship “Tsingtau” of the 2nd E-boat Training Flotilla.
- ↑
Holzapfel (TOW)Klose (TOW)
The author probably spoke to the flotilla commander of the 5th E-Boat Flotilla Lieutenant Hermann Holzapfel, whose boat he then sailed on, but it is also possible that he met the flotilla commander of the 2nd E-Boat Training Flotilla Lieutenant Hans-Helmut Klose, who 1949-1955 boated secret agents to the Eastern Bloc and became Vice-Admiral in 1975.
- ↑ It was “S 110” under Sub-Lieutenant Johann Schmölzer, which was deployed from Windau to Gotenhafen on 27-28 October 1944 together with “S 67” and “S 85”. All three boats belonged to the 5th E-Boat Flotilla.
- ↑ The author once wanted to become a merchant ship officer and completed a voyage on the sail training ship “Padua”, about which he also kept diary.
- ↑ “S 110” - which the editor believes the author was aboard - sustained damage to the centre propeller from pier parts in Sworbe on 25 October 1944; on the return march it suffered further damage from bomb hits and subsequent fire. “S 67” - which the editor believes to be the boat ahead - received rocket hits on the armoured bridge on the same voyage to Sworbe; in Sworbe the screws of both outer shafts were damaged by pier parts; on the return march it was hit by rockets. “S 85” was sent to Königsberg for repairs and installation of a 2 cm twin.