Through his attack periscope, Herr Kapitan Schwieger watched the relentless progress of disaster.
The giant ship plowed onward in a great curve, its prow steadily sinking into the sea and skewing to the right. Behind it spread a long wake—of human bodies, wreckage, and desperate survivors in and out of lifeboats, some of which were also sinking. Control of the steam turbines must have been lost, or the captain would have halted his vessel to lower his boats safely. Instead, many of them now dangled useless from the starboard side. Or worse, they dropped into the waves to crush one another and be swamped by the bow current. And that was along the rail of the ship tilting nearest the water. One could only guess what was happening on the higher port side.
Feeling the press of crew behind him and hearing the murmur of eager voices, Schwieger thrust himself away from the attack periscope, which was now lowered beneath the conning tower into the central crew quarters.
“Here, Pilot Lanz, have a look. Run out the patrol periscope as well. Anyone who wants to may look.”
Strangely, he no longer desired to witness the result of his triumphant torpedo strike.
“What chaos, it’s a shambles.” Lanz narrated what he saw to the others. “The ship is still running away from us, and listing worse than ever. She’s sinking fast, but will likely capsize first. Lifeboats full of people are still tied to the ship, being dragged down and crushed as she heels over and sinks. The passengers crowd up to the last high places and drop off over the rails like lemmings.”
As Lanz spoke, he had to swivel the periscope to follow the target’s motion.
“But yes, it’s definitely Lusitania. With that list, I can plainly see her deck funnels.”
Oddly to Schwieger’s ears, the news brought a buzz from the crewmen but no spontaneous cheer of victory. Others had taken turns at the second periscope by now, some with audible gasps of dismay, so likely they found the scene too terrible to applaud. And this unsavory business with Voegele, who now sat under watch in the corner of the room, may have infected their minds with doubt.
Schwieger himself felt sobered, but he knew he’d done his duty. Hopefully it would be recognized by his superiors and duly rewarded on their return home.
Meanwhile Lanz swung the attack periscope in a full circle, edging his way around the crowded command space. “No sign of any rescue ships yet,” he reported. ”I’ve seen enough.” He turned away and made room for Weisbach, who had been summoned back amidships from his torpedo tubes.
“Well, torpedoman, what do you think of your handiwork?” Schwieger asked after letting him survey the scene a few moments.
“It is amazing that one torpedo could cause such devastation to so huge a target.” Weisbach stepped away from the spectacle, relinquishing his place at the scope. “Even one of our new G-type fish.”
“It was more than our torpedo.” Schwieger let a note of righteous passion creep into his voice for the crew to hear. “There was a secondary explosion. We all heard it and felt it, much more than the first. That ship was stuffed to the gills with ammunition.”
“We hit her in the cargo, then?” Weisbach asked. “It wasn’t the boilers going up, or the coal bunker?”
“I plotted the strike for the boilers at the center of the ship, to be sure of a hit.” With the mood of the crew so uncertain, Schwieger felt obliged to explain things. “But the target was going slower than expected, far less than full speed, and our eel struck ahead of the bridge, just under the foredeck cargo hatch. That tells us what was in the Lusitania’s hold.”
Among the crew’s murmurs in reply to his speech, there were enough Ja’s to reassure him of their loyalty.
“Now,” he continued, “Lanz, take the patrol periscope and keep up a vigil for warships and any others, especially that Juno cruiser that ran into Queenstown earlier. Crew to battle stations! Ready to surface if needed, and have ammunition in place for the deck gun.”
“Nein!” This time the mutinous word came from Seaman Ulbricht who, as Schwieger turned to face him, held a pistol, a good German Luger, pointed straight at the captain’s forehead. “We must not surface or be seen by anyone! We have done a terrible thing here, attacking innocent women and children, and no one must know who’s to blame! We should slip away silently and tell nobody. Let them think the Lusitania struck a mine!”
“Don’t do that.”
Rikowski the radio officer reached out and pulled down Ulbricht’s arm, taking the pistol out of his hand.
Schwieger blinked, otherwise keeping a straight face. There was no other sign of dissent from the crew, though all of them looked frightened, or at least solemn.
He decided simply to ignore the incident. Young Ulbricht was temperamental; everyone knew that and had accepted it. Keeping too many mutineers under guard might kindle a flame of dissent. Instead, just limit the damage to the foreigner. Already Rikowski had an arm around Ulbricht’s shoulder, with the Luger nowhere in sight.
“Very well,” he told his crew as they began to disperse. “You heard my orders.”
“What about Voegele, the Alsatian mutineer?” his second officer asked. “Should he be in irons?”
“No. I remove him from command, but he may attend to his duties so long as he keeps quiet. Let us get on to business.”
Turning back to his periscope, Schwieger added, “Our fight here may not be over.”