Inhaltsangabe
The Diary of a U-Boat Commander is a first-hand account of life aboard a German U-boat during World War I. The author remains anonymous, but the diary entries provide a detailed and intimate look into the experiences of a U-boat commander and his crew. The diary covers a period of several months, during which the U-boat conducts patrols in the Atlantic, encounters enemy ships, and engages in battles. The author describes the challenges of life on a U-boat, including the cramped living conditions, the constant danger of attack, and the physical and mental strain of long patrols. The diary also provides insight into the morale and camaraderie of the crew, as well as the attitudes and beliefs of German sailors during the war. Overall, The Diary of a U-Boat Commander is a fascinating and informative account of a little-known aspect of World War I naval history.As we staggered back to our course I heard a thud in the wardroom, and on returning to my settee found that Alten had rolled out of his bunk, where he was lying in a drunken stupor, and that he was face downwards, sprawling on the deck, half his face in the broken half of a dirty dish which had fallen off the table whilst I was having tea. As I couldn't let the crew see him like this, I was obliged to struggle and get him back into his bunk. He was like a log and absolutely incapable of rendering me any assistance, though he did open his eyes and mutter once or twice as I lifted him up, trunk first and then his legs. He stank of spirits and I hated touching him. Lord! what a truly hoggish man he is; yet I cannot help envying him his oblivion to these surroundings.This scarce antiquarian book is a facsimile reprint of the old original and may contain some imperfections such as library marks and notations. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment for protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature in affordable, high quality, modern editions, that are true to their original work.
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As we staggered back to our course I heard a thud in the wardroom, and on returning to my settee found that Alten had rolled out of his bunk, where he was lying in a drunken stupor, and that he was face downwards, sprawling on the deck, half his face in the broken half of a dirty dish which had fallen off the table whilst I was having tea. As I couldn't let the crew see him like this, I was obliged to struggle and get him back into his bunk. He was like a log and absolutely incapable of rendering me any assistance, though he did open his eyes and mutter once or twice as I lifted him up, trunk first and then his legs. He stank of spirits and I hated touching him. Lord! what a truly hoggish man he is; yet I cannot help envying him his oblivion to these surroundings.
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