02:06 (California Time)
Thursday, July 2, 1942
U-800, off San Diego, California
U.S.A.
An elongated dark shape slowly rose from the depth and broke the surface of the water, with barely any bubbles or wake being visible in the obscurity of the three quarter moon night. It rose out by barely four meters before it stopped its ascent, leaving the bulk of its mass under water and out of sight of potential coastal watchers. Inside the forward observation dome of the U-800, Otto Kretschmer, accompanied by Lieutenant-commander Takeshi Nagaoka, started examining at once with his binoculars San Diego and its port area. The three quarter moon helped him see better, but there was also the fact that San Diego was not enforcing a night light curfew. Even the North Island Naval Air Station, with its airfield and its docks, was not blacked out, making Otto shake his head.
‘’What will it take for these Americans to learn their lessons?’’
He then twisted his head to look behind him at Oberbootsmann Fritz Lent, who was looking through the optics of the Zeilsaule C38 Night Director unit mounted in the center of the observation dome. The Zeilsaule C38 had three big, side-by-side 110 millimeter-diameter high quality lens specially coated to enhance night observation and was one of the finest optical instruments produced by the German optical industry, which was itself justly famous for the quality of its lens.
‘’Can you see details in the airfield area, Herr Lent?’’
‘’Plenty to give us many good targets, Herr Kapitän. I can see clearly the main tarmac area, which is filled with two opposite rows of parked aircraft, going from fighter aircraft to large patrol aircraft and bombers.’’
‘’That sounds perfect as targets for our guns. Let’s see now if our rangefinder unit can give us an approximate range to these parked aircraft.’’
Picking up the intercom’s microphone of the dome, Otto called the aft observation dome, where Matrosenobergefreiter Walter Koenig was manning the Flak ZAG rangefinder unit, normally used to give the range to approaching aircraft but which was perfectly capable as well of targeting sea and land targets at short and medium ranges.
‘’Kapitän to Flak ZAG rangefinder: we can see from the forward dome a double row of aircraft parked in the airfield situated on the coast, by the entrance to the harbor. Can you see and range those aircraft?’’
‘’Affirmative, Herr Kapitän! The range to the nearest aircraft is approximately 5,400 meters, while the farthest one is 5, 900 meters away.’’
‘’Excellent! We will thus start with a ranging shot set for 5,700 meters.’’
Otto then switched his intercom to ship-wide transmission.
‘’ATTENTION ALL HANDS! BE PREPARED TO MAN QUICKLY OUR TWIN MAIN GUN MOUNT AS PLANNED. HELM: SURFACE, SURFACE, SURFACE! BE READY TO DIVE BACK UNDER QUICKLY AT MY COMMAND.’’
The water around the submarine seemingly boiled as compressed air was injected in the main ballast tanks, chasing out the water in them and making the U-800 fully rise to the surface. Otto, who was closely watching the operation, gave another order on the intercom when he saw that the forward deck of his submarine was fully out of the water.
‘’DEPLOY THE MAIN GUN MOUNT! GUNNERS, MAN YOUR WEAPON!’’
Activated from inside the submarine, the two deck panels covering the main gun well slid open sideways, creating at the same time a large platform on which the gunners would have plenty of room to walk on, while the big twin 12.7 centimeter SK C38 gun mount rose out of its well. At the same time, the forward access hatch on the forward face of the conning tower was thrown open and five men ran to the gun mount, while six more men followed more slowly while carrying one complete 12.7 cm round each. Inside the forward airlock, other sailors were readying more rounds, in order to pass them via a human chain to the twin guns and thus accelerate the rate of fire. With Fritz Lent providing precise bearings and with Koenig adding an estimated range to target, the big gun mount was soon slewed in the direction of North Island Naval Air Station, two 12.7 cm rounds with their 28 kilogram explosive shells being fed into the gun breaches.
‘’ON TARGET!’’
‘’ONE RANGING SHOT, RANGE OF 5,700 METERS, AT PARKED AIRCRAFT, FIRE!’’
A blinding flash illuminated the night for a second when the first round was fired, while the muzzle blast and roar made the whole submarine vibrate. Otto, like his men manning their fire control director and rangefinder, anxiously waited to see where their first shell would land. Otto grinned when that shell burst in the middle of the tarmac, close to a four-engine bomber.
‘’GUNNER, CORRECTION! LEFT, FIFTY METERS! FIRE WHEN READY!’’
The gun aimer effected the correction quickly, then fired his second round. The men waiting with ready rounds in their arms advanced forward at once to reload both guns. This time, the shell landed just beside a bomber, ripping off one wing and shredding its fuselage with shrapnels.
‘’GUNNER, FIRE FOR EFFECT! MAXIMUM RATE!’’
Two new shells were fired the next second, with a pair of shells following each subsequent four seconds. Otto ordered a new adjustment in both range and azimuth after each series of eight rounds, sweeping his gunfire up and down each of the two rows of parked aircraft. For good measure, he had twelve more rounds fired at the big hangars lining one side of the main tarmac, then gave the order to stow back the gun mount in its well and to evacuate the open deck. The U-800 was already nearly fully submerged when the American anti-aircraft guns posted around the naval air station belatedly opened fire, a bit over two minutes after the firing of the first round by the submarine. Otto grinned to Takeshi Nagaoka as the first American shells passed well overhead, missing their target by over 700 meters in range.
‘’We will be gone well before these American gunners find the correct range. From my count, we must have destroyed or severely damaged at least twenty aircraft on North Island, many of them patrol bombers. That should render life easier for us during the coming days.’’
‘’And may I ask what we will do next, Captain Kretschmer?’’ Asked the Japanese Navy officer.
‘’You certainly may. I intend to go up the coast to Los Angeles, then to San Francisco, and attack the shipping I find on the way, to render the Americans paranoid and possibly convince them to divert destroyers from their present Pacific missions and come to the defense of their West Coast. That way, we will both sink valuable merchant ships and their cargo and we also will weaken their naval posture in the Central Pacific. What? You seem to dislike that plan, Commander Nagaoka.’’
Feeling bad at hiding something from a friendly naval officer who had earned his admiration during the last few weeks, Nagaoka spoke while lowering his voice, so that the sailors near him couldn’t listen on.
‘’Pardon me if my reaction may have seemed insulting to you, Captain. To be candid and frank with you, submarine service in the Imperial Japanese Navy tends to be looked at with some contempt, as many of our officers consider underwater attacks to be cowardly, dishonorable acts. To attack merchant ships rather than warships is considered even more contemptible, which is why our submarine commanders generally don’t attack enemy merchant ships and wait instead for enemy warships to be sighted to attack. I am not however part of those who think little of submarine warfare, especially after watching you and your men in action.’’
Otto was silent for a moment, digesting those words, before looking at the sailors present in the forward dome.
‘’Please leave the dome now, men.’’
‘’Yes, Herr Kapitän!’’
Once the sailors were gone, Otto looked back at Nagaoka.
‘’No offense taken, Commander. I appreciate frankness and understand that your national culture may affect the views of your compatriots about submarine warfare. However, that attitude is a huge strategic mistake in my opinion and it may cost you the war in the long run. You saw what our submarine campaign has done to Great Britain and how close the British maritime lifeline is to collapse.’’
‘’I saw the reports on that in Berlin, Captain. Talking of reports, I must tell you something else. My ambassador reacted with some dismay on reading that you once retrieved a group of Americans that had been shipwrecked in the Caribbean Sea and sheltered them until you let them go safely.’’
‘’And why did he show dismay at that?’’ Asked Otto, his voice hardening by a notch. ‘’I was simply following the laws of the sea. What would your ambassador have wanted me to do with those people? Kill them on the spot?’’
Nagaoka lowered his head in embarrassment before answering in a barely audible voice.
‘’Yes! Our ancient code of honor in Japan, called ‘Bushido’, considers that to let yourself be taken prisoner is a most dishonorable and cowardly act that strips away any rights from that person and would make him unworthy of living. A Japanese will commit suicide rather than letting himself be taken prisoner. Those Japanese who fail to do that are then considered to have dishonored both themselves and their family name. However, I am the son of a career diplomat and renown international jurist and I was born in The Hague, in the Netherlands, then grew up in France, Germany and Czechoslovakia. I actually lived very few years in Japan and, as a result, don’t think like the average Japanese. I joined the Imperial Japanese Navy as a signals officer out of tradition, not because I have a warrior spirit, and this cruise on your submarine is the first time I have been near combat.’’
‘’So, you disapprove of your navy’s outlook on prisoners. And what exactly could an American sailor or soldier expect if captured by the Japanese, if I may ask?’’
‘’Nothing good, Captain. He will either be executed on the spot, interrogated brutally for information or turned into a slave worker.’’
Otto’s face hardened at those words, but his expression softened after a few seconds and he bowed his head slightly at Nagaoka as he replied to him.
‘’Your humanity is a credit to you, Commander. So, what would you counsel me to do if I capture some Americans while on our way to Japan?’’
‘’Simple: don’t! My ambassador even counseled your government to machinegun enemy shipwreck survivors in the water, rather than saving them from the sea.’’
Otto shook his head in obvious disgust then.
‘’War is already a bad thing. It doesn’t need to be made even worse by committing such atrocities.’’
‘’May I ask in turn what are your motivations in this war, Captain?’’
‘’You may! I would have much preferred to see Europe at peace, but my country is now at war and my duty is to defend it and prevent its defeat, which would inevitably result in its collapse and possible dismantlement. I am proud of being a German and, while I have no political affiliations, I will die if necessary to defend my country, but I will not dirty its name by committing atrocities or war crimes.’’
Nagaoka bowed low at Otto while speaking softly.
‘’A most honorable attitude, Captain. Be assured of my complete loyalty and support during this trip.’’
05:51 (California Time)
North Island Naval Air Station
San Diego, California
Navy Captain William Murray was grim as he inspected the damage to his air station after sunrise, accompanied by a few of his senior staff officers. The losses in valuable aircraft was particularly stinging to him.
‘’Twenty-three aircraft destroyed and seventeen more seriously damaged, plus four hangars rendered nearly useless, and all that in about two minutes! How could a German submarine possess such a heavy firepower and also shoot so accurately?’’
‘’Well, sir, the U-800 is said to be in a class of its own.’’ Replied his intelligence officer, Lieutenant-commander Leslie Warrington. ‘’Our own gunners and coastal lookouts say that it had a twin gun mount, something that would drastically raise its rate of fire. Also, our ordnance experts have had the chance to examine fragments from the shells fired by that submarine and can say with near certainty that they are of five inch caliber.’’
Murray stopped walking at once and pivoted to face Warrington.
‘’A twin five inch mount, on a submarine? That’s unheard of!’’
‘’Uh, not really, sir. That U-800 is actually reminiscent of our own NARWHAL cruiser submarine, which is armed with two single six inch guns.’’
‘’Hum, you’re right! Make sure to pass that piece of intelligence about the U-800’s guns in our report to the 12th Naval District.’’
Murray then saw a jeep approaching fast and turned to wait for it. A young signals officer jumped out of the jeep after it screeched to a halt in front of the base commander and saluted him while presenting him a message form.
‘’This was just received, sir: two merchant ships, one cargo and one tanker, were torpedoed and sunk forty nautical miles from here, off Oceanside. The naval district commander has ordered the whole Pacific coast to be on full anti-submarine and anti-raider alert.’’
‘’Damn! That U-800 is sailing up the coast towards Los Angeles and San Francisco. This could become very bloody indeed.’’
19:23 (California Time)
Control room of the U-800
Off San Francisco
‘’Herr Kapitän, our high definition sonar is detecting a dense underwater minefield ahead. It seems to be describing a half circle around the entrance to the Golden Gate.’’
‘’Very well! Helm, reduce speed to three knots! Steer to Heading 005 and keep our present depth!’’
Otto next went to the station of their high definition bow sonar, situated near the helmsman’s station, to look at the display screen.
‘’Okay, Herr Bock, let’s map this minefield in detail. Maybe we will be lucky and find a gap in it.’’
‘’At first sight, I would say that we would be lucky to find such a gap, Herr Kapitän. This minefield is quite dense. I will be able to give you a better picture in a few minutes.’’
‘’Take your time and be thorough, Bock. Coordinate with the helm to follow closely the boundaries of this minefield and report immediately if you find a gap.’’
‘’Understood, Herr Kapitän!’’
Otto then went aft to join Ulrich von Wittgenstein and Takeshi Nagaoka at the tactical plot table.
‘’Commander Nagaoka, what does your navy know about the defenses of San Francisco Harbor?’’
‘’Not as much as we wished, unfortunately, but enough to say that it is supposed to be the second most heavily defended American port after New York. It has numerous coastal gun batteries, anti-aircraft gun batteries, anti-submarine minefields and anti-submarine nets. Breaking through those defenses to enter San Francisco Bay would be an exploit by itself. As for the Golden Gate Strait itself, it is very deep but has strong currents and tides, while strong winds and thick fog, especially in the morning, can render traffic difficult.’’
Otto raised an eyebrown in interest at the mention of ‘thick fog’.
‘’How frequent is fog in the area?’’
‘’In the Summer, nearly daily. Why?’’
‘’Because it may just allow us to repeat an infiltration tactic we used in Portland a few months ago, when we sailed through a mined entrance channel, using fog to hide us while we were partially submerged.’’
‘’Interesting! But, that would bring you only part way: an anti-submarine net blocks the inner entrance to the Golden Gate, about one kilometer from the Golden Gate Bridge. What would you do to pass that net?’’
Ulrich von Wittgenstein, who was listening carefully to the exchange, suddenly had an idea and cut into the conversation.
‘’Maybe we won’t even need to pass through that net. That Golden Gate Bridge is a suspension-type bridge, if I remember well, no?’’
‘’Correct!’’ Answered Nagaoka.
‘’And how many support towers are there, and where?’’
‘’Uh, there are two very tall steel towers that support the suspension cables. One is built just at the northern extremity of the bridge, while the southern tower juts out of the coast.’’
‘’And the base of that southern tower, could it be vulnerable to damage by torpedo hits?’’
Both Otto and Takeshi looked at Ulrich with wide eyes, suddenly catching on to what he had in mind.
‘’I believe that the southern support tower’s foundation are indeed exposed to torpedo hits, but the base is made of concrete and massive. One torpedo may cause some damage, but not enough to endanger the bridge.’’
‘’And eight, or even twelve torpedoes, would that be enough to make that bridge tower topple over?’’ Asked Otto, getting excited.
‘’Hell, I am no civil engineer, but it certainly would create enough damage to cause a lot of worries to the Americans about the bridge’s structural integrity, especially if strong gusts of winds come in.’’
The reaction of Otto to those words then surprised both Takeshi and Ulrich. Turning around, Otto shouted an order towards the helmsman.
‘’GO UP TO PERISCOPE DEPTH! STEADY ON THE HEADING AND SPEED!’’
He then went to the watch periscope and raised it as soon as the ballasts operator announced that they were at periscope depth. Ulrich saw a savage grin form on his captain’s face after just two seconds of observation. His next series of orders then froze the blood of everyone in the control room.
‘’SURFACE, SURFACE, SURFACE! HELM, STEER HARD TO STARBOARD, HEADING 095! ENGINES TO FULL! TORPEDO ROOMS, PREPARE AND FLOOD ALL TUBES! MAN THE TORPEDO FIRE CONTROL SYSTEM!’’
As all the Germans in the control room suddenly got busy, passing or executing Otto’s orders, Takeshi Nagaoka was left speechless by the audacity and quickness of decision of Otto Kretschmer. A typical Japanese submarine captain would have weighed in his options for long moments and would then probably go for the safest one, in this case withdrawal. The big question now was what the Americans would do about such a decision.
20:02 (California Time)
Searchlight position, Battery Gate,
Fort Point, northern tip of Presidio District
San Francisco
‘’Hey, Rick, do you think that this damn German submarine will really try to attack San Francisco?’’
‘’Well, it did attack the Panama Canal and succeeded in blowing up the locks, no?’’ Replied one of the three soldiers manning the big defense searchlight, situated nearly under the southern extremity of the Golden Gate Bridge. The third soldier snickered at that.
‘’Yeah, and the Army censorship tried for a full week to hide that fact to the public. Now, the bigwigs are nearly hysterical about how dangerous that U-800 is and are insisting on keeping us on indefinite alert. Of course, they’re not the ones who will stand awake all night. And with that ‘soup’ cutting visibility to about zero, what do they expect us to do? You can’t see dick!’’
That ‘soup’ was a thick fog from the ocean side that had rolled up the Golden Gate Strait, something that was very frequent for San Francisco, especially in the Summer months. The one named ‘Rick’ then replied dismissively.
‘’Forget the fog and about seeing through it, Jack. We have radar, don’t we? Radars don’t care about fog.’’
Jack grunted to acknowledge that fact. The problem was that Rick knew and understood little about radar technology in general and about U.S. Army radar sets in particular, including the fact that all radars had a minimum range within which they could not detect objects on the ground or on water. The radars in use to protect San Francisco were first generation, metric-band sets optimized for medium and long range, with blind minimum zones of one kilometer or more against ground targets. They were thus next to useless against a ground or sea target below their own level that would be passing literally under their nose.
The three searchlight operators were deciding on whether to send one of their own to get mugs of hot coffee when a tremendous explosion from nearby shook the coastline, making the soldiers jerk nervously.
‘’WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?’’ Shouted Jack, twisting his head in the direction of the strait, from which the explosion had been heard.
‘’I don’t know, but it was a big explosion.’’ Replied Rick. ‘’It came from the approximate direction of the southern tower of the bridge. I…’’
A second, equally powerful explosion then shook the shoreline again.
‘’Holy shit! There must be saboteurs at work around the bridge’s tower foundations.’’
A third, then a fourth explosion, all from the same direction and at a regular interval of five seconds, finally made Rick understand what was happening.
‘’IT MUST BE THAT FUCKING GERMAN SUBMARINE! IT IS FIRING TORPEDOES AT THE BASE OF THE BRIDGE’S SOUTH TOWER!’’
‘’WHAT CAN WE DO?’’ Lamented Jack. ‘’WE CAN’T SEE IT IN THAT FOG!’’
‘’WE CAN CALL IT IN!’’ Replied the first soldier, named Daniel. ‘’LET THOSE BIGWIGS FIGURE IT OUT!’’
While Daniel jumped on the field telephone provided to their position and cranked it to call their battery’s command post, more explosions flashed through the fog. As the soldier finally got their command post on the line, the explosions stopped, making Rick raise an eyebrow.
‘’I counted a total of eight explosions. I wonder if that submarine ran out of torpedoes. Hopefully, the base foundations of the bridge will have been solid enough to withstand those hits. Someone should…’’
A distant explosion directly to the North cut him off, followed at five second intervals by three more explosions. Then, silence fell.
‘’It sounded like that submarine also targeted the base of the bridge’s northern tower. God, I hope that the bridge will hold steady! However, it seems that this submarine truly ran out of torpedoes by now.’’
Daniel soon put down his field telephone receiver and looked at his two comrades.
‘’The Captain asks that one of us go check the state of the bridge’s tower base.’’
‘’Does he think that we are civil engineers or what? And how the hell are we to get to the tower’s base? It is nearly 400 yards from the shoreline. What a jackass!’’
Despite that protest, Rick did go down to the nearby shoreline, but could not see the southern tower’s base through the fog, as he had expected. Grumbling, he climbed back to the searchlight position and arrived there as their battery commander, Captain Virgil Oakley was jumping out of his jeep. Oakley was a graying man with nearly thirty years in the army, none of them spent in combat, who could at best be described as a very average officer who treated his soldiers like second class people.
‘’So, what happened here?’’ Oakley asked to nobody in particular. Rick took on himself to answer him.
‘’What must be a submarine fired a total of twelve torpedoes against the bases of the bridge’s towers, eight against the southern tower base and four against the northern tower base, sir. I went to the shoreline to look from closer but still couldn’t see through the fog, sir.’’
‘’And where is that presumed submarine now, soldier?’’
Rick stiffened with anger at the tone of that question, but managed to stay polite.
‘’We actually never saw it, because of the fog, sir.’’
‘’So, those explosions could have been anything, including explosive charges placed by saboteurs.’’
‘’No sir!’’ Replied at once Rick, surprising himself. ‘’Each explosion was very powerful and had to come from a bomb or a torpedo, sir.’’
‘’We will see about that, soldier. I will go get a divers team, so that it could go inspect the bases of the towers. In the meantime, resume your duties and keep an eye open for any suspicious person around the shoreline.’’
‘’Yes sir!’’ Said Rick, saluting. Oakley then left in his jeep, with the three soldiers watching him drive away.
‘’What a dickhead!’’ Pronounced Rick. ‘’Charges placed by saboteurs my ass! Hey, Dan, you were about to go get some hot coffee. How about going now?’’
‘’A good idea: this mist can really chill you out.’’
Dan didn’t have the time to make three steps before a new explosion, as powerful as the previous ones and coming from the same direction, shook the shoreline. As another explosion followed five seconds later, Rick understood what was happening.
‘’THAT DAMN SUBMARINE: IT TOOK THE TIME TO RELOAD ITS TORPEDO TUBES AND IS NOW FIRING A SECOND SALVO!’’
‘’MY GOD, WHAT CAN WE DO? THE BRIDGE WILL NEVER SURVIVE SUCH A REPEATED POUNDING!’’
Out of desperation, the three soldiers lit up their giant searchlight, but managed only to illuminate large patches of nearby fog. Silence fell again after a total of twelve new explosions, making Rick slam angrily his fist against the concrete parapet of his position.
‘’What the hell are our radar operators doing? Our guns should have fired on that submarine by now.’’
To his fury, none of the dozens of coastal defense guns protecting the approaches to San Francisco Bay fired once, nor did any of the underwater mines placed specifically to prevent submarines from entering the strait while submerge detonate. The night then fell around the three frustrated soldiers, with the fog slowly dissipating around them. The wind, which had already been fairly strong during the day, picked up after Sunset and became gradually stronger, eventually reaching gusts of sixty kilometers per hour. As it was designed to do, the bridge absorbed that wind by flexing and swinging a bit around. However, this time growing noises of tortured steel overhead made the searchlight operators increasingly nervous.
‘’God, let’s hope that the bridge will stand.’’ Wished Dan aloud. ‘’If it falls, it will be nothing short of a disaster for San Francisco.’’
‘’I hope that someone used his head and closed the bridge temporarily to vehicle traffic until it could be fully inspected.’’ Said Jack, who was contradicted at once by Rick, who pointed upward at the headlights of cars and trucks rolling on the bridge.
‘’I’m afraid not, Jack. Traffic seems to be still as dense as usual.’’
‘’Damn it! Will anyone in Fort Scott finally start thinking with his brains rather than with his ass?’’
As if his swearing had inflicted a final blow to the bridge, the noise of tortured steel suddenly turned into a horrible ripping noise. The three soldiers could only watch with horror as the mighty Golden Gate Bridge, which stood 230 meters above the water at the top of its support towers, started slowly toppling sideways towards the West.
‘’NOOO! GOD, NO!’’
Dozens of cars and trucks, their headlights still on, fell off the bridge’s roadway and down into the cold waters of the Golden Gate Strait as the bridge’s inclination increased. A last gust of wind gave the fatal blow to the massive structure, with the reinforced concrete bases of the two support towers nearly exploding under the stress, snapping clean. The overwhelmed searchlight operators heard the terrified last screams of hundreds of people as their vehicles and the bridge fell in the water of the strait. Even then, the remaining patches of fog prevented the soldiers from being able to watch fully that drama. Dan was left nearly catatonic, while Rick couldn’t take his eyes from what was still visible of the remains of the bridge.
‘’Oh my God! Oh my God! There must have been thousands of people on the bridge when it collapsed. And the whole navigation channel is now hopelessly blocked: the port of San Francisco is completely bottled up!’’
Within an hour of the disaster, thousands of soldiers, sailors and policemen were called up to form rescue parties, in order to save those who had been on the bridge and were still alive. Unfortunately, the survivors proved to be few indeed. The last patches of fog finally cleared up during the night, allowing engineers and experts to examine the remains of the bridge and the waters of the Golden Gate Strait. What they saw completely disheartened them: the twisted mass of steel of the bridge and its long roadway completely blocked the strait, with parts sunk as deep as forty meters down, still precariously held from falling to the bottom by the partly cut massive steel support cables. Keeping such a disaster from hitting the front pages of newspapers or from the news rooms of radio stations was simply impossible and the news of the collapse of the Golden Gate Bridge and of the closing of San Francisco