Chapter 739: The Waves of Iceland

Just as Prien’s U-boat was rapidly submerging into the sea, less than ten kilometers away, a massive British battleship, protected by several cruisers and destroyers, was speeding in another direction. Its sharp bow was lifted high by the waves, its huge cannons pointing majestically forward.

The entire fleet was not at battle stations, but the destroyers on the periphery were on high alert, as if facing a great enemy. After all, German submarines frequently appeared in these waters, and they had to be on their highest guard to prevent a possible torpedo attack. The heaven-defying combat record of the German navy had not only made it a powerful presence watched by the whole world but had also served as a thorough wake-up call for the British Navy.

The layout of this battleship was very strange. Its three huge gun turrets were all concentrated at the very front of the ship. As one of the Nelson-class battleships, the HMS Rodney had just been transferred back to Canadian waters and ordered to join the Home Fleet in preparation for another battle with the German Navy.

The British had finally caught their breath in Iceland. In fact, the Royal Navy still possessed a huge numerical advantage in battleships, as well as an absolute advantage in the tonnage and number of combat vessels. With these advantages, the King of England and his advisors felt that retaking control of the sea was not impossible; Britain definitely still had the strength to fight.

The surface of the North Atlantic always seemed to be gray. The colors here were all tinged with a certain gloom, making one feel uncomfortable just by looking at it. The British who had once conquered this region, and the Germans who were now conquering it, both saw it as an exciting playground. And all those who had been laid to rest here seemed to have merged their resentful, cold souls into every part of the scenery, making everything here even grayer.

The roar of the engines, in the poorly soundproofed cabin of an old-fashioned aircraft, was definitely a very effective way to induce sleep. At least when on patrol, with the turbulent, endless sea below, anyone would be tormented into drowsiness after facing this environment continuously since takeoff.

Although the plane was bumping due to the airflow, and the cold from outside would still seep into the interior, keeping the cockpit temperature very low, this did not in the slightest affect the desire for sleep that boredom brought.

This B-17 long-range patrol and reconnaissance aircraft, imported directly from the United States, would surely fetch a very good price if it were in a certain country that worshipped original imports at a certain time. But this plane was clearly not valuable. It was just a small item of exchange in the Anglo-American technical cooperation agreement.

Moreover, this plane was not the kind of beautiful, original imported product. Its soundproofing had been cut corners to an outrageous degree, the materials for the seats were very simple, and it even had only a simplified armament of four 30mm cannons. The pilots who had flown this type of plane had only one, very sarcastic, phrase to describe it: “Grandma’s broken bicycle.”

A British pilot had once been so frightened by the huge seams in the skin of this type of plane when he was about to board that he had refused to take off. Others had had their clothes torn by a protruding piece of sheet metal in the narrow cabin passage. Compared to the Americans’ own B-17s, the workmanship on this foreign aid model had been simplified by more than one process, and many of the edges had not been deburred.

But this type of plane could fly, and it was available in sufficient numbers. More importantly, the United States only provided this disgusting model, take it or leave it. So the British coastal patrol squadron stationed on Iceland had, without any complaint, accepted 40 of these planes and used them to conduct combat patrols on the near end of the Iceland route.

The bomb bay of this type of plane could carry some small bombs, and the 30mm cannon in its belly could perform strafing missions against sea targets. As long as a German submarine was spotted on the surface, this plane could launch an attack.

Unfortunately, for some reason, the opportunities to find surfaced German submarines were becoming rarer and rarer, yet more and more merchant ships were being sunk. With the roars of His Majesty the King of England, the frequency of coastal patrols had become even denser, and more planes were being sortied.

Compared to the Germans, who were investing in and building their own industrial facilities on a vast landmass, the difficulty for the British, who were building their base on the even poorer and more resource-scarce Iceland, can well be imagined. At the most basic level, even bricks and wooden planks had to be transported from the distant United States. If Germany was short of everything, then the British on Iceland had nothing at all.

From basic building materials to hundreds of millions of rounds of ammunition resupply, various aircraft parts produced in Canada, and the large machinery needed to level the land and build airfields and other facilities, the British, with the help of the Americans, had finally managed to establish a firm foothold on Iceland.

The result was that now, with the British base on Iceland having only built less than a third of what was needed for the entire counter-offensive plan, it was caught in an awkward dilemma due to the attacks of the German submarines.

On the one hand, if they wanted to expand the garrison on Iceland, build more airfields and docks, and increase Iceland’s strategic importance, then they would have to invest more materials. The food, ammunition, and fuel that would be consumed would be even greater, which would inevitably increase the burden on the entire shipping route from the United States to Iceland.

On the other hand, the threat from German submarines was becoming more and more serious, and increasingly uncontrollable. The deployment of a new type of U-boat had infuriated the British government-in-exile, which was eager to expand Iceland. The American side was also worried that once the Iceland route was strangled and paralyzed by the German army, the investment in Iceland would ultimately collapse rapidly due to its own large scale.

Now, to avoid this awkward situation, the entire construction of Iceland had fallen into a strange pause. The half-built barracks were empty, and the damaged planes at the airfield were left unattended. Only a few airfields and radar stations near the European side were still busy working, and only a limited number of jet fighter squadrons still had enough fuel to maintain training and patrols.

Just as Prien had missed a British battleship, this British patrol plane had also missed Prien. The drowsy pilot’s observer below mechanically swept the sea surface with his binoculars, not finding anything unusual. At this time, Prien, along with his submarine, had already dived to a depth of 45 meters at the bottom of the North Atlantic.

However, their sleepiness was soon driven away by the burning wreckage on the sea surface. The captain circled the plane at high altitude, and the observer watched the burning sea with his binoculars, finally confirming that it was a transport ship that had just been sunk.

And so the captain picked up his intercom and began to call the duty officer at the ground command center. “This is Patrol 4. Check the transport ship schedule. In the vicinity of coordinates 537, 449, we have found the wreckage of a ship. Requesting confirmation.”

“This is the ground tower. We are confirming. Please check the nearby sea area carefully and prepare to attack any German submarines!” In the headset, the duty officer at the ground tower immediately issued an order. A few minutes later, the tower had clearly found the information it wanted. “Patrol 4, we have confirmed. An oil tanker that was making a risky run should be in that vicinity. Please confirm if it is still there! Please confirm if it is still on the surface.”

The captain gave a bitter smile and then immediately replied, “I think this is the ship that was sunk, Tower.”

“…” After receiving this bad news, there was a brief silence from the tower, followed by a routine conversation. In short, another British supply ship had been sunk. There was no worse news than this.

However, the ground tower seemed to remember something and told Patrol 4 not to cut off communication. “Patrol 4, wait a minute. There should be a squadron that came from the colonies. It wasn’t originally supposed to have a patrol plane escort, but there are German submarines active in your vicinity. You’d better go over there and help out. The position is about 17 kilometers to your west.”

“Alright! Patrol 4, roger,” the captain said. He flew the plane back to this suspicious sea area and, after still not finding any targets, turned and flew towards the direction of his mission.

“This is Patrol 4. No enemy contact! After changing course, we are continuing to fly west. Over!” Withdrawing his gaze from the sea, the captain put away his intercom with a dejected air after a brief communication, and then flew his plane away from this sea area.

At this very moment, in the deep sea directly below this plane, a German submarine was slowly cruising. From time to to time, schools of fish would pass by it. Because of the noise, these schools of fish kept a considerable distance and never approached this big fellow, which was very dangerous to them.

Standing at the captain’s command position, Prien could only see his entire command room by the faint light from the sonar and other equipment. But for a veteran who had commanded submarines in combat for many years, this was the environment where he felt most at ease. He held onto the handhold to prevent himself from falling and ordered, “Hard to starboard, course due east. We are going to rendezvous with the new submarines that are on their way. We’ll give these Brits a good lesson in what real submarine warfare is!”

The school of fish next to the submarine suddenly darted away as if startled, moving as fast as lightning. The speed of the U-47’s propeller at its stern increased slightly, and the submarine’s forward speed, with this obvious change, also increased considerably.

At the stern of the U-47, the rudder swung to starboard. The entire submarine changed direction in the water and, at the top speed of an old-fashioned submarine, easily sailed towards the darkness in the distance.

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