emason
23-07-2010, 20:28
The Strange Course of U-763
The U-763 was a type VIIC U-boat, commissioned on 13 March 1943 and fitted with a Schnorkel in April 1944. Her Commanding Officer was KapitanLeutnant Ernst Cordes.
5 July 1944
At about 18.00, U-763 attacked convoy ETC.26 (River Thames to France, Normandy invasion convoy) and was subsequently hunted for 30 hours by a hunter-killer group. The experience of U-763, between 6th and 9th July 1944, will probably remain unique in the history of the U-boat. The following is an extract from her log:
6 July
16.45. South of Isle of Wight. Bottomed again in 55 metres. Enemy still has contact. I shall wait here till night. Depth-charges are now fewer and further between. Thirty-four detonated in our near vicinity between 16.00 and 20.00. Despite the addition of oxygen and the use of potash cartridges, the air has become perceptibly fouler. A very great quantity of air was consumed by members of the crew who had to be moved in order to keep trim during my attempt to shift position. The crew are becoming more exhausted. It is nearly 30 hours since the boat was last ventilated. The first cases of vomiting occur, and I issue each man with a potash cartridge. Breathing becomes distressed. The enemy search group is still active overhead. The intervals between depth-charges are getting longer, but detonations are nearly all very close. During the 30 hours of the pursuit, 252 depth-charges were counted in the near vicinity, 61 at medium range and 51 at long range.
7 July
12.00. After having been pursued with asdic and depth-charges for nearly 30 hours, our greatest worry is the fixing of our position. No echo-soundings could be taken during that time and our alterations of course and the set of the tide have taken us a considerable distance. Dead reckoning puts us 20 to 30 miles north of Cherbourg.
16.54. Touched bottom (40 metres).
19.02. Bottomed in 40 metres. This shallow depth makes me wonder if we are actually further to the southward. There is a 9-knot current there. Though we are trimmed by the head, the boat is lying very badly. Rise to periscope depth. Course 330 degrees. Land in sight to port, bearing 300 degrees true.
22.58. It is beginning to grow dark. As visibility is bad to starboard, I can make no further check. There are no stars. From a study of the chart it appears certain that the current has carried us between the Channel Islands. Sounding continuously and utilising the northerly set, I try to schnorkel clear to the northward. Visibility ahead is good enough.
8 July
00.41. The soundings do not agree with the chart. An attempt to fix by radio beacon produces one position only (Brest), which passes through the area in question and, together with the soundings, appears to confirm our estimated position. So long as I have sufficient water and visibility there is no point in surfacing. Carry on schnorkelling in order to have the batteries sufficiently charged, by daylight, to enable me to obtain a fix at periscope depth.
03.37. Touched bottom (16 metres). Stopped schnorkelling. I determine to surface, since our estimated position cannot possibly be correct. The farther we proceed to the north-west the shallower the water becomes, whereas according to the chart it should become deeper. I wonder if the echo-sounder is reading correctly.
03.56. It is almost a flat calm, moonlight and misty. Surfaced. .. . About two and a half miles on the port quarter, four destroyers are lying in the moonlight. Land lies on both beams. The shapes of several steamships are visible to port. I turn off to the north-west, assuming that I have the enemy-occupied Cotentin Peninsula to starboard and the Channel Islands to port. The echo-sounder must be out of order and the current must have carried us into shallow water.
04.33. Submerge again when the echo-sounder shows 30 metres. Bottomed at 35 metres. After pondering over what I have seen, it suddenly occurs to me that we have fetched up close to the English coast. The direction of the Brest position line on the chart shows that in all probability we are at Spithead, however unlikely that may sound."
That night and the following forenoon U-763 remained bottomed a few miles north-west of the Nab light.
9 July
15.25. Left bottom.
15.48. Periscope depth at silent running speed. Using the periscope sparingly and just awash, I discern three small vessels anchored in the stream.
16.05. An anchored landing craft (US 264) lays on the starboard beam and ahead of her the hospital ship, No. 62. I pass between them to the other side where, on the port bow, I sight two old 2,000- to 3,000-ton steamers, in ballast, lying at anchor. On south-easterly courses the water becomes shallower. A fix by cross-bearings shows that I am in danger of being left high and dry by the tide. I therefore turn about and make for a 20-metre patch.
18.02. Bottomed again in 17 metres. Low water is at 22.04, so that I am no longer in danger of being stranded. We have inexplicably got the boat in here unnoticed and will get her out intact, for she must not fall into enemy hands.
Despite the opportunities that presented themselves, though there were no really worthwhile targets, Ernst Cordes could not attack for fear of his LUT torpedoes running ashore and falling into enemy hands.
22.20. Action stations. . . .
22.50. Leave bottom. Rise to periscope depth. I keep to the starboard side of the fairway. Returning landing craft and what I presume to be two destroyers pass us on the opposite course. . . .
23.38. Course 140 degrees. We have not been observed. The water gets gradually deeper.
From Ernst Cordes observations the possibility of penetrating into this area to lay mines was noted. Such an operation was planned, but it had to be dropped because of the subsequent U-boat evacuation of the Channel.
U-763 ended her career on 29 Jan 1945 by scuttling at Koeningsberg after receiving bomb damage from Soviet aircraft.
The U-763 was a type VIIC U-boat, commissioned on 13 March 1943 and fitted with a Schnorkel in April 1944. Her Commanding Officer was KapitanLeutnant Ernst Cordes.
5 July 1944
At about 18.00, U-763 attacked convoy ETC.26 (River Thames to France, Normandy invasion convoy) and was subsequently hunted for 30 hours by a hunter-killer group. The experience of U-763, between 6th and 9th July 1944, will probably remain unique in the history of the U-boat. The following is an extract from her log:
6 July
16.45. South of Isle of Wight. Bottomed again in 55 metres. Enemy still has contact. I shall wait here till night. Depth-charges are now fewer and further between. Thirty-four detonated in our near vicinity between 16.00 and 20.00. Despite the addition of oxygen and the use of potash cartridges, the air has become perceptibly fouler. A very great quantity of air was consumed by members of the crew who had to be moved in order to keep trim during my attempt to shift position. The crew are becoming more exhausted. It is nearly 30 hours since the boat was last ventilated. The first cases of vomiting occur, and I issue each man with a potash cartridge. Breathing becomes distressed. The enemy search group is still active overhead. The intervals between depth-charges are getting longer, but detonations are nearly all very close. During the 30 hours of the pursuit, 252 depth-charges were counted in the near vicinity, 61 at medium range and 51 at long range.
7 July
12.00. After having been pursued with asdic and depth-charges for nearly 30 hours, our greatest worry is the fixing of our position. No echo-soundings could be taken during that time and our alterations of course and the set of the tide have taken us a considerable distance. Dead reckoning puts us 20 to 30 miles north of Cherbourg.
16.54. Touched bottom (40 metres).
19.02. Bottomed in 40 metres. This shallow depth makes me wonder if we are actually further to the southward. There is a 9-knot current there. Though we are trimmed by the head, the boat is lying very badly. Rise to periscope depth. Course 330 degrees. Land in sight to port, bearing 300 degrees true.
22.58. It is beginning to grow dark. As visibility is bad to starboard, I can make no further check. There are no stars. From a study of the chart it appears certain that the current has carried us between the Channel Islands. Sounding continuously and utilising the northerly set, I try to schnorkel clear to the northward. Visibility ahead is good enough.
8 July
00.41. The soundings do not agree with the chart. An attempt to fix by radio beacon produces one position only (Brest), which passes through the area in question and, together with the soundings, appears to confirm our estimated position. So long as I have sufficient water and visibility there is no point in surfacing. Carry on schnorkelling in order to have the batteries sufficiently charged, by daylight, to enable me to obtain a fix at periscope depth.
03.37. Touched bottom (16 metres). Stopped schnorkelling. I determine to surface, since our estimated position cannot possibly be correct. The farther we proceed to the north-west the shallower the water becomes, whereas according to the chart it should become deeper. I wonder if the echo-sounder is reading correctly.
03.56. It is almost a flat calm, moonlight and misty. Surfaced. .. . About two and a half miles on the port quarter, four destroyers are lying in the moonlight. Land lies on both beams. The shapes of several steamships are visible to port. I turn off to the north-west, assuming that I have the enemy-occupied Cotentin Peninsula to starboard and the Channel Islands to port. The echo-sounder must be out of order and the current must have carried us into shallow water.
04.33. Submerge again when the echo-sounder shows 30 metres. Bottomed at 35 metres. After pondering over what I have seen, it suddenly occurs to me that we have fetched up close to the English coast. The direction of the Brest position line on the chart shows that in all probability we are at Spithead, however unlikely that may sound."
That night and the following forenoon U-763 remained bottomed a few miles north-west of the Nab light.
9 July
15.25. Left bottom.
15.48. Periscope depth at silent running speed. Using the periscope sparingly and just awash, I discern three small vessels anchored in the stream.
16.05. An anchored landing craft (US 264) lays on the starboard beam and ahead of her the hospital ship, No. 62. I pass between them to the other side where, on the port bow, I sight two old 2,000- to 3,000-ton steamers, in ballast, lying at anchor. On south-easterly courses the water becomes shallower. A fix by cross-bearings shows that I am in danger of being left high and dry by the tide. I therefore turn about and make for a 20-metre patch.
18.02. Bottomed again in 17 metres. Low water is at 22.04, so that I am no longer in danger of being stranded. We have inexplicably got the boat in here unnoticed and will get her out intact, for she must not fall into enemy hands.
Despite the opportunities that presented themselves, though there were no really worthwhile targets, Ernst Cordes could not attack for fear of his LUT torpedoes running ashore and falling into enemy hands.
22.20. Action stations. . . .
22.50. Leave bottom. Rise to periscope depth. I keep to the starboard side of the fairway. Returning landing craft and what I presume to be two destroyers pass us on the opposite course. . . .
23.38. Course 140 degrees. We have not been observed. The water gets gradually deeper.
From Ernst Cordes observations the possibility of penetrating into this area to lay mines was noted. Such an operation was planned, but it had to be dropped because of the subsequent U-boat evacuation of the Channel.
U-763 ended her career on 29 Jan 1945 by scuttling at Koeningsberg after receiving bomb damage from Soviet aircraft.