1 August 1941. Mission - patrol marine quadrat CG87, off the Atlantic approaches to Gibraltar. A naval band and the usual well-wishers bid us farewell from the Lorient quayside while most of the crew line the decks of our big Type IXC boat.



As we leave our berth, we pass an unusual visitor moored nearby - a BV138 flying boat.



Crew below deck apart from the bridge watch and round to starboard we go, in a wide turn to put us astern of our escort, a minesweeper.



Thunder sounds in the distance as the early morning sun disappears behind the clouds. Not a great omen!



I've no time to dwell on such things as I need to concentrate fully on following our escort.



Au revoir, Lorient!



...to be continued!

U-128 follows the escort out to open seas under leaden skies.



Suddenly, a lookout on the bridge warns of an aircraft spotted astern. My first reaction is, ok, we've got air cover too. But then I hear the explosions. Looking back with the binos, I see an aircraft going down. An enemy bomber!



It crashes into the outskirts of the port, leaving two parachutes drifting down.



Well, that was in eventful start to the patrol! But apart from some inbound shipping, our passage into the Bay of Biscay is otherwise uneventful and the minesweeper escort turns back. The bridge watch remains alert...



...as we rumble out into the Bay, course south-west.



A quick check of the crew shows no-one is as yet tired and in need of my intervention.



As regular players will know, crew management isn't SH3's strong suit and the complement isn't right - as portrayed in 'Das Boot', the so-called navigating officer (NO) should be a senior NCO/chief petty officer not a commissioned officer; and the only one of the four officers in SH3 with the correct title is the Chief Engineer (labelled CE, LI or Leitender Ingenieur - the other three being the First Watch Officer, the Second Watch Officer and the commander himself). Before leaving port, I did take the opportunity to use up my starting 500 'renown' points' to add mostly NCOs and ratings to increase the complement a bit. If nothing else, a few extra bodies might help when I get the dreaded message 'Not enough men in the diesel compartment, Herr Kaleun!', to which my response would in real life be to rip the Chief Engineer and his senior machinist a second ar*ehole each, for not already sorting that out.

Early the next morning in semi-darkness, still some way short of the end of our traverse of Biscay, an aircraft is spotted, closing rapidly from port. He's likely using radar because he's close enough to strafe us before we can get into the cellar.



Luckily for our continued existence, the Hudson doesn't drop any bombs on his first pass. By the time he comes around for his second, we're down to 40 meters and have thrown in a 90 degree course change for good measure. The bangs are impressive but do us no harm.



In the control room, all is calm and - well, under control.



After a few minutes, I order a return to our original course and we do a hydrophone check, which picks up no contacts.



Looking back from into the control room, the only movement comes from the crew at their stations and the gentle swaying of the meat, sausages and bananas hung from the overhead. Even the big Type IXs needed to cram in the provisions, the longer range also requiring more grub.



I stay down - on low revolutions to preserve battery life - until it's daylight and the advantage of the enemy's airborne radar over our lookouts' eyesight is reduced. By this time, the weather has deteriorated sharply - wind 9 meters per second from the south-south-west.Sensibly, the bridge watch is in sou'westers and oilskins.



Hour after hour we plough on...



...the bows alternately dipping into the heavy swell...



...then lifting into the air.



It's not much cop for the virtual crew, but just sailing a U-boat in this situation I find very immersive, reminiscent of the storm scenes in 'Das Boot'. Of course, I'm hoping we'll see some action against the enemy, not just the elements.

...to be continued!

U-108 reaches the north-western tip of Spain and leaving the Bay of Biscay behind, turns south, parallel to the coast of Portugal. By now, the weather is much improved...



...and the bridge watch is able to get out of their wet weather gear.



It would be easy to forget there was a war on, as we cruise steadily southwards.



I'm tempted to allow the crew on deck for some fresh air and exerecise. But I decide against taking chances in this area - we're getting close to the major British naval and air base of Gibraltar.



By 4th August the skies have darkened again as we pass to the west of Lisbon. Just before mid-day, the lookouts spot two ships off the port bow. They look to be a small tanker and a large freighter, travelling together.



I order an increase in speed and set a course which will put us ahead of them. Intention - when we get far enough ahead, submerge and cut in towards them for a submerged attack.



As we get closer, I order the Uberwasser Ziel Optic to be brought up to the bridge and through it, observe the ships. I can soon make out a third, smaller ship to the rear of the first two. An escorted convoy! Small, but a worthwhile target!



I'm a bit puzzled that the large freighter seems to have her lights on, which is the mark of a neutral. But the ship ahead of her doesn't. And besides, neutrals don't travel in convoys, or generally, with naval escorts for that matter.

We're going in!

...to be continued!

Having got far enough ahead, U-108 dives to periscope depth...



...and proceeds at high underwater speed towards the enemy, with my sound man following and reporting the nearest ship.



At this point, I decide to use the 'cheat camera' to get some screenshots of my intended victims. In front is the small tanker, whose lights I was unable to see from a distance, it not being dark.



Astern is the large freighter, whose spotlights I could make out.



Bringing up the rear is this little fellow - a (submarine) chaser, as a look at the ship identification manual will later tell me. I haven't come across one of these before; they don't look too dangerous, do they?



While I will (do my best to) ignore any information gained by such a view, in this case the thought comes into my head - they're flying the French tricolour, we are at war with them, aren't we? Yes, I tell myself. But what I've forgotten is that this is based on the September 1939 timeframe of my previous career, which I just recently given up due to problems loading save games. It's actually August 1941 - and while we are at war with the Free French, these ships are likely from Vichy France, a non-belligerent.

As far as I'm concerned, based on what I can see from my boat, here we have a small escorted convoy. Belligerents do escorted convoys, and if the lighted ship is a neutral, sailing in a belligerent's convoy means they're not so neutral, in my book.



I turn to port, onto an interception course, raising the attack periscope at intervals to observe the enemy. 'Tubes 1 to four, open!' Not long, now!



...to be continued!

At 700 metres, I loose off two eels at the larger and slightly more distant target...



...and several seconds later, another one, at 500 metres, at the small tanker. By this time, the little escort has turned and is steaming away.



I get one hit on the large freighter...



...and then one on the tanker...



...which is soon blazing fiercely.



The burning tanker might go down, I reckon...



...but the bigger ship shows no sign of doing so. So we give her a third torpedo, from Tube III...



...which misses!



The tanker looses way, and the freighter stops short of ramming her, before backing off again. The little sub chaser escort is barely visible on the horizon so I decide to finish off the freighter in a gun action. Auftauchen!



Hopefully we'll get enough rounds into her before the escort gets in range; I'd hate to waste another torpedo!

...to be continued!

Before I can get my deck gun into action, I find I'm being shelled myself by the sub chaser, which has performed a rapid U-turn and is now racing straight for U-128. Alaaaarm!



By this time, the small tanker has blown up and sunk. I increase revolutions and pass astern of the freighter, adjust my position, slow down and let fly with one of the two stern tubes.



This one - a compressed-air powered G7a which leaves a surface bubble trail - is running straight and true. But will the fuse work?



Yes, it will and does!



The freighter loses way and starts smoking. Meanwhile, the sub chaser seems to have a fairly good idea of where we are, having seen the freighter struck on her port side.



I'm not sure if the little craft carries either depth charges, ASDIC or listening gear, but there seems no reason to take any chances with my boat. I order revolutions increased and a dive to 80 metres.



Up top, the freighter is slipping beneath the waves, firing distress flares as she goes.



The sub chaser returns to the scene of the sinking, only to find nothing left but an oil slick. Nasty!



Right. All I have to do now is creep away until the sub chaser looses interest. But this proves more easily said than done. For ages, the little beggar circles around above me with uncanny accuracy. I come up to periscope depth and let fly with a stern tube, but miss. I'm lucky he obviously lacks depth charges!

Well after dark, he's still up there.



I dive to 160 metres and resume creeping away on silent running. I'm fearful that he'll still be up there when I have to surface with failing batteries. I can't get far enough away from him to open up the range so I'm fearful that when I surface, he'll be hitting me with his pop guns before I get my more powerful deck gun to bear. So I'm mightily relieved when at about midnight, the sound man reports he's falling away astern, then out of range. I wait a while longer before coming back up to periscope depth. The horizons are clear, so we surface and are soon rattling south again, back on course to our assigned patrol area.



Now that things have settled down, I make a radio report to BdU...



...who isn't best pleased that I've apparently sunk neutrals. Oh well, they shouldn't have been sailing in company with an armed escort. Especially such an aggressive and determined one.



...to be continued!

We are just short of our patrol area west of Gibraltar when there's an aircraft alert. The new arrival is a Whitley bomber.



In fact, there's two of them! They are heading straight for us, from the port quarter. Down into the cellar we go.



I throw in a tight turn towards them as we go down, but start a bit early, such that our wake gives away the move.



Nevertheless, one of SH3's apparent quirks saves us - no bombs are dropped on the first pass. By the time they start, we're well out of the way.



I stay submerged for until early the next morning, running slowly south on the e-motors. Regular hydrophone checks reveal no contacts.

Mid-day finds us reaching the patrol area in cloudy but settled conditions. now, the hunt can begin in earnest!



...to be continued!

At 12:17, the lookouts spot more aircraft - a pair of Hurricanes, this time!



I order a crash dive but we are heavily strafed and damaged. The boat seems to be glued to the surface.



Finally, having been well worked over by cannon fire, we get below, only to be rocked by depth bombs. Our speed has dropped right back and we just hang there for long seconds...



...until at last the e-motors start running and drive us down.



The port diesel is damaged, and most of the crew are worn out.



I decide to stay down until dusk, to give those who need it most a rest while a repair crew attends to the damage. Just before 20:00, repairs complete and crew rested, we come warily back to the surface.



U-128 is now well within our patrol sector so I order a status report sent, to keep BdU in the picture. I change course to towards the south-western corner of the grid square - the further away we are from land, the less likely we are to be bothered again by aircraft. I hope.



...to be continued!