U-235 floated serenely on the calm waters of the Antarctic bay. A hundred yards to the left Captain Fischer could see Captain Ludwig stood in the conning tower of the much larger XX2 as they both waited for the same thing. The past few days had been uneventful and as they had travelled closer to the icy continent, they had taken the opportunity to travel on the surface and use their diesel engines. Finally they had arrived at the prearranged coordinates and now waited patiently to be met.
Mueller had accepted Fischer’s invitation to join him in the conning tower and stood beside the captain, drinking in the freezing yet welcome air.
‘So this is it,’ said Mueller, looking along the ice cliffs ahead of him.
‘Apparently so,’ said Fischer.
‘How on earth do they expect to survive in this place?’ asked Mueller.
‘I have no idea,’ replied Fischer, ‘but it is definitely the right place.’ He paused. ‘I see your comrades are making their presence felt,’ he continued, and handed over a pair of binoculars. Mueller peered through the eyepieces and could see the captain on the other U-boat was accompanied by an SS officer in a full-length leather coat.
‘Do you know him?’ asked Fischer.
‘No,’ said Mueller, ‘but I recognise the unit.’
‘Who are they?’
‘The Leibstandarte SS, an elite unit hand-picked for their blind loyalty to the Führer and their willingness to slaughter anyone in their path.’
‘You don’t sound like you approve.’
‘I wear the same insignia but share no loyalty,’ said Mueller. ‘My unit were highly trained soldiers taking their chances against an enemy on the battlefield. These are little more than uniformed assassins, trained to kill anyone who stands in their way or questions the orders of the Führer. They have probably never faced an enemy military position in their lives. They were born into Nazi politics and know no other way. All I can say is that if there is a unit of Leibstandarte on that submarine, there must be something, or someone, very, very special on board.’
A disturbance in the water alongside them made them both spin around and they watched as a third submarine surfaced in the bay. As soon as it settled, they heard a hatch clang open and the captain of the third vessel appeared in the conning tower. A moment later four more men appeared from a hatch on the forward hull and dragged out a pre-inflated rubber dinghy. As they did, the captain was handed a loud hailer and spoke out across the water.
‘Captain Fischer, we have been expecting you. In a few moments, one of my crew will come across and give you the coordinates for the next leg of your journey. Do not be alarmed, many boats before you have followed this path, just ensure you follow the instructions exactly. In a few minutes we will submerge and lead the way. Five minutes later the XX2 will follow us. You will bring up the rear five minutes after that. Do I make myself clear?’
Fischer retrieved his own hailer and responded.
‘You do, captain.’
As the captain of the third U-boat turned to repeat the message to the XX2, Fischer watched the sailors in the small inflatable come alongside and hand a sealed envelope to one of his crew. When it was passed upward, he broke the seal and read the information.
‘What is it?’ asked Mueller, seeing the look of concern on the captain’s face.
‘If this is right,’ said Fischer, ‘our path lies that way.’
Mueller followed the captain’s gaze toward the ice cliffs.
‘I thought these things often sailed beneath the ice.’
‘Beneath the ice, yes,’ said Fischer, ‘but that is not just ice, it is the mainland and thus made up of solid rock. They must have found an underground channel to heaven knows where.’
‘Does this worry you?’
‘Not unduly,’ said Fischer, ‘for it seems the channel has been travelled many times. However, it is always a worry travelling into the unknown.’
‘Captain, prepare to move out,’ came the amplified order from across the water.
‘You should go below,’ said Fischer, and indicated the open hatch. Mueller descended the ladder, followed by the crewmen. Fischer remained on the conning tower for the next ten minutes or so and watched as both of the other submarines disappeared beneath the icy waters, heading for the cliffs before him. Five minutes later, he climbed down, securing the hatch behind him.
‘Prepare to dive,’ he called out.
‘Coordinates, captain?’ asked Lieutenant Webber, his second in command.
Fischer handed him the document.
‘Don’t question them,’ he said, deciphering the quizzical look on the man’s face, ‘just follow the instructions. I have no idea where we are headed.’