The time is June 1942, the beginning of America's first summer at war. Somewhere off the coast of Massachusetts a German U-boat surfaces under cover of darkness. Aboard the U-boat are two agents of the Abwehr, Germany's military intelligence service, whom the ship's commander has been ordered to drop safely on American soil. The agents have as their mission to conduct sabotage against military and industrial installations. Hitler's intention in devising such an operation is to remind Americans he has the capability and the will to bring the war to their backyard. As the two agents are bringing their equipment ashore, they are surprised by a patrolling US Coastguardsman, who is quickly killed by one of the crewmen from the U-boat but an attack dog accompanying him badly mauls one of the agents. Desperately in need of medical attention, the wounded agent must be returned to the U-boat for treatment. As the crewmen disappear into the night Erich Stinnes, alias Karl Stoner, is left with the sudden realization he will be carrying out this operation on his own. Stoner is fortunate in not only finding a job at the local shipyard but he is able to rent an apartment from an attractive woman, who is recently widowed. It is not long before the two of them begin an affair that causes Karl, already ambivalent about the war, to question the wisdom of his mission. Before he can resolve his dilemma, an incident at the shipyard exposes him for what he is. Having no choice he is forced to flee leaving Anne to suffer the consequences of her affair with a Nazi spy.

No Ordinary Summer

By David T. Lindgren

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2010 David T. Lindgren
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4520-7451-1

Chapter One

June 1942

The U-boat emerged silently from the cold, dark waters of the Atlantic like some predatory sea creature. It had departed the Kriegsmarine submarine base at Lorient, France, a week earlier and was now about two hundred miles due east of Boston. During its trans-Atlantic crossing the U-boat had traveled submerged during the day, employing its battery-powered engines to crawl along at little more than six or seven knots. But, at night the sub would surface and engage its diesel engines with the result it could cruise at nearly twenty knots while simultaneously recharging its batteries. The crewmen also enjoyed the nights because it was the only time the hatches could be thrown open to allow the cool marine air to ventilate the sub's hot stuffy interior.

While there had been little chance of being spotted by aircraft patrols in mid ocean, that situation had now changed. For the first time since crossing the Bay of Biscay, there was the very real possibility of being detected. Accordingly, the U-boat had spent much of the day submerged, lying quietly on the bottom. Because the U-boat's captain, Oberleutnant Werner Frisch, had been briefed to the effect that America's anti-submarine defenses were still relatively primitive, the number of patrolling aircraft had come as a great surprise him. And since he suspected that at least some of them were radar-equipped, he had to be doubly cautious; the last thing he needed in such shallow waters was to be the object of a depth-charge attack, especially after Admiral Doenitz, the head of Germany's submarine service, had made it abundantly clear to him that under no circumstances was his presence in these waters to become known.

Werner Frisch was a U-boat ace, a holder of the prestigious Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross with Oak Leaves, and commander of what military experts considered the most advanced submarine of its kind, the 800-ton Mark IX. This particular vessel, U-128, had been built in the Krupp Germaniawerft shipyard in Kiel and was less than two years old, though it was already showing the effects of almost continuous action. The Mark IX was the largest of the German attack submarines, measuring over two hundred-fifty feet, yet it was an extremely nimble craft. It could dive quickly, possessed a shorter turning radius than any comparable Allied submarine, and was difficult to spot because of its low profile. These qualities, in combination with its load of wake-less, electric torpedoes, made the Mark IX an extremely efficient killer and for this reason a number of them had been deployed to the western Atlantic where in the early months of 1942, as part of Operation Drumbeat, these U-boats had sunk scores of heavily laden tankers and freighters plying East Coast and Gulf ports.

But for the present, the hunt for Allied merchant vessels was not U-128's primary mission. In fact, Frisch had pursued a course across the Atlantic that took his U-boat well to the south of the principal shipping lanes. Even in mid-voyage, when a Greek merchant ship was spotted heading eastward, alone and unescorted, Frisch chose not to attack but instead altered course so as not to be seen. The reason for such extreme caution was the U-boat's cargo. In addition to its regular crew of fifty, U-128 carried two special passengers. Little was known about them since they had slipped aboard unseen and had kept largely to themselves ever since. Needless to say on such a small ship it was almost impossible to remain completely out of view and when at length someone had spotted them wearing Kriegsmarine uniforms with no indication of rank the rumors began to fly. Finally, when one of the torpedo mechanics claimed to overhear the two speaking fluent English, though he knew little himself, that was sufficient for a consensus to be reached—the two men were Abwehr agents, a conclusion that would be confirmed later in the trip when the captain announced the U-boat would be making a brief stop along the Massachusetts coast before proceeding to its ultimate destination, the Caribbean.

Below deck in a tiny galley ordinarily reserved for the U-boat's captain and executive officers, Karl Stoner sat quietly staring into an empty coffee cup. Even sitting down it was obvious that he possessed the rugged build of an athlete. His hair, normally worn close-cropped in Prussian military fashion but allowed to grow out for this mission, was brown and his eyes, now hidden behind closed lids, were almond-colored with just the faintest slant to them, suggesting perhaps some distant Asian ancestry. At the moment his face was expressionless, but even so there was still a hint of arrogance about it. And, then, there were his hands. They were enormous in size with thick powerful fingers. In sum, he presented the appearance of a man with whom it would be best not to trifle.

Stoner had been sitting in the galley for quite some time and to anyone watching, it would have been difficult to determine whether he was deep in thought or actually asleep. In fact, he was neither. He had clearly felt the U-boat surface and the power being shifted from the battery-powered electric engines to the main diesel engines. He had detected the first sweet smell of salt air as the hatches were opened to rid the ship of the carbon monoxide and other noxious gases that had built up while it lay submerged. And he was now perfectly conscious of the fact that someone was approaching him from behind.

"Guten Abend, Herr Stoner," said the U-boat's captain before switching to English. "I hope I'm not intruding on your thoughts."

"Not at all, Captain," Karl replied, calmly, looking up at him. "What can I do for you?"

Frisch was wearing a reefer jacket with the breast emblem of the German Navy over the pocket and a peaked cap with a white cover. In keeping with U-boat tradition both the jacket and cap appeared battered and worn. Karl guessed that he and the captain were about the same age, yet Frisch already had the gaunt, hollow-eyed look that was characteristic of so many submarine commanders. His cheeks were sunken, his red Viking beard heavily flecked with gray, and his clothes hung loosely on his slight frame. Too much stress, Karl concluded. Commanding a U-boat was an extremely hazardous occupation and America's entry into the war was making it even more so. Not only had the Americans assigned greater numbers of aircraft and ships to antisubmarine duty, they had also introduced more effective techniques for detecting and destroying enemy submarines. As a result, the North Atlantic, which had long been a graveyard for Allied merchant vessels, was now becoming a similar graveyard for German U-boats. Frisch, like Karl, was only too aware that the odds of his ship and crew surviving the war were getting less with each passing day.

"Your colleague, Herr Mueller, is he about?" Frisch inquired smiling.

"Sleeping," Karl replied. "He took advantage of an empty bunk."

"Wise man," Frisch nodded, "since as you're probably aware, we are approaching the drop-off point. Our estimated time of arrival is about twenty-four hours from now, that is, assuming all goes as planned. So, I hope you've enjoyed our hospitality, Spartan though it may have been."

"We have, indeed, Captain, and thank you," replied Karl, wondering what life would be like aboard the U-boat after a month or two at sea. Fortunately, he would not be around to find out.

"Good, so let me just briefly go over...