Hey guys! Welcome to this little one-shot. I was sitting around Friday night, actually in the middle of writing the new chapter of Life's Way, when i suddenly had this thought, and i had to stop writing the chapter immediately and start this. It was a very powerful thought indeed. I find German U-Boats VERY interesting, and highly beautiful to look at. This story is written from a German-sided view, although i will tell you all right now, I DO NOT SUPPORT WHAT THE NAZIS DID! I only find the boats they used very interesting, and to make this work, i had to write from a Nazi POV. Well, i can see I've been playing a bit too much Silent Hunter 3 and 5 (great games btw). This was an actual U-Boat, and the captain in the story was the actual captain that commanded this particular boat. It went down in the Northern Atlantic, presumably by British Flying Fortresses. Of course, i took some artist liberty with it. It is unknown how the boat sank for sure, but it really was on a patrol heading home, like i have it in here. What happens after the sinking, i completely made up. It could have happened, idk, but i made it up.

The crew laid about lazily in the darkness of the crew bunk area. Only a solitary red emergency light illuminated the small area. No one spoke, in fear of using precious oxygen. Some slept soundly in order to conserve energy should a rescue attempt present itself. Morale was very low, and hopes were not high for chances of rescue. The submarine was eerily quiet. No one could hear another man breathe. The only sounds that dared show up were the outside world, and once in a while, the ship itself would creek under the pressure of the water above. It was a sad sound almost, resembling the last cries of life that were slowly leaving her crew.

The original crew of twenty-seven was now cut down to only seventeen. The days had slowly taken them. Days without food or water, and hardly any life-giving air to breathe. Those that did survive the attack were now left with only the company of the dead, the living, and the submarine itself. In respect for their fallen comrades who had unknowingly made it easier for the living to stay alive, the remaining crew had laid them to rest in the torpedo room of the bow section. They sealed the hatch shut, and it was silently understood that no one was to disturb the dead for any reason.

"Captain?" one of the men spoke from the top bunk. The man in question opened his eyes and seemed to awaken from his sleeping state. He was more than a little surprised to be able to even awaken, he had thought that he would run out of oxygen and never awaken again. He straightened his back while still seated on a stool in the corner of the bunk room.

"Yes sir?" the captain responded. The man rubbed his full brown beard with his hand. His blue eyes focused on the man who was speaking to him.

"What are we going to do now?" he asked with terror shaking his voice. The captain couldn't blame him, everyone was scared. They were the crew of U-337 of the mighty German Naval Fleet. They sat now in their sunken U-Boat, with nothing to live on but hope itself.

The proud ship steamed ahead full in the North Atlantic on a sunny day. The weather was beautiful for how far north they were, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Captain Kurt Ruwiedel stood on the watch tower with the hatches open. The air flowed against his face, rattling some of his many medals he had acquired over the years. He stood proudly in his black uniform, buttoned up to the collar, a black and silver cross pinned to his right breast. The German Eagle stood against his uniform as well, also on his hat that he always insisted on wearing.

"Sure is a great day out isn't it Captain?" The Lieutenant asked him, standing on his flank. His short brown hair and deep blue eyes resembled the ocean itself. The water was such a beautiful deep blue, and very calm. The Commander knew these waters very well, he had sailed on them before. The North Atlantic was very deep and very cold. It was the type that demanded respect from those that dared travel its lengths.

The water licked at the sides of the submarine with a wave-like sound. The diesel engines pushed the boat through the water at an impressive sixteen knots. The crew was on route back to the German ports from which they had set out from. Their mission had been a patrol around the Northern Atlantic for British cargo ships entering the enemy country. Though their patrol had been unsuccessful, the commanders at home were only happy that they didn't lose any crew members on their patrol and that they were returning home.

No one could wait to get there. Although being at sea was at all of their hearts, being with their families, wives, and children was truly what they desired. To roll into the bay and exit their noble steed with the pride of making it home alive was unimaginable to any of them. Although they had been a crew for almost seven months now and having endured missions together before, it didn't shake the desire to be home. As a result, the crew knew each other well, and they formed a family of their own while out at sea. While it was dysfunctional of course, it was a family, of sorts.

"Indeed it is Lieutenant," the man responded with a smile. The two watched over the bars of the watch tower, observing the way the water flowed on the surface. The sea breeze smelled of diesel fuel and salt. If you opened your mouth, you could taste it in the air.

"Care for a taste of my newest dish Captain?" The cook came up the hatch with a small bowl of some type of soup he had made. He was a crazy man, very talkative and outgoing. He was always joking around and boosting the crew's morale. His grayed hair stuck out in all different directions from under his cap. It matched his grey beard, which was slightly unkempt.

"Haha! Yes! Of course I would," the captain exclaimed happily. He took hold of the glass bowl and spoon. He dipped the spoon into the soup and took some out, blowing lightly to let it cool. The captain took the soup into his mouth, to his taste buds' delight. It had a beefy flavor, chalk full of vegetables and other spices. The meat was tender and the vegetables had a wonderful flavor. For a straggly old man, he could make a mean meal.

"You like it captain?" the man asked with a smile on his face. At first glance, he wasn't someone you would want handling food. One would notice that he was missing a few teeth from the front of his jaw, and everyone doubted that the rest of his mouth had any teeth anyway. The ones he did have were yellow and rotten. But hey, this soup was amazing.

"Do I? How could you not love this! It's amazing as always!" The captain responded to him. He watched as a glee-filled smile only intensified to an even bigger one at his words.

"It's a family recipe, my grand-mom used to make it for us kids all the time!" he exclaimed proudly to his captain.

"Well, my compliments to the chef," he said with a smile and a tilt of the head, taking another bite of the soup.

The cook laughed. "Anytime Cap," he replied, "but I better go finish the rest of the meal." With that, the man turned around and hurried back down the hatch to the cooking station. The Captain could only laugh at the man. He was the typical "good ol' boy" as they were commonly referred to, always happy and seemingly without a care in the world.

They continued east for a good couple hours. They hadn't passed a single soul on the high sea, but it was probably better that way. They had all been served the wonderful soup the cook had prepared for an evening meal, as well as bread rolls and drinks. Comfort food was a must, especially while at war. Most of the crew remained inactive, except for watchmen, the captain, and the navigators. They were free to enjoy their leisure time as they pleased. Most sat in the bunks talking to fellow crew mates, while some preferred to stand above desks on the watch tower to enjoy the breeze along with a priceless view of the sunset.

The Captain remained below deck, going over various charts and meters within the command room of the U-Boat. Everything was running smoothly, and he was preparing to settle in for the night, with his first officer about to come on duty. While making his final nightly rounds from the bow to the stern, he was interrupted by a call no one wanted to hear this time of night.

"Aircraft spotted sir!" Came the call from one of the watchmen atop the watch tower. The warning bell rang furiously, further drawing attention to the area. All men in the sub instantly stopped what they were doing to see what was their next course of action. If something really had been spotted and posed a threat, things would change very quickly for them.

The captain jolted into action with a start, running from the bow of the submarine to the command room. He climbed up the ladder quickly to the top of the tower. He breathed heavily until he stood next to the man in charge of the watch.

"What do you have?" the captain asked him with urgency in his voice.

"Bombers! Headed east towards our current position! They're Fortresses sir!" the man yelled back at him. The night went from going utterly smoothly, to a complete emergency. Every man on board knew that British Fortress bombers carried depth charges…sub-killers. The drums of high explosives could sink faster than a sub could evade them, and were deadly even at respectable distances.

"Good work boy, prepare for crash dive," the captain ordered him. There were simply too many bombers to take them out with the flak guns on-board, and with the threat of depth charges, it was bet to get out of sight as quickly as possible.

"All hands prepare for crash dive!" The captain yelled from atop the tower, getting the men down into the submarine. From above, the bombers were already starting to fall into an attack formation. They had been spotted, and quick actions were the only things that would save them now.

AN: Crash dive is when engines go to full speed and the submarine dives as deep as it can as fast as it can to evade enemies.

He ran to the hatch, walking down the ladder and pulling to closed tight. He continued yelling his orders, and the warning horns sounded. "Crash dive! Engines to full! Rudder full! Drag fins full!" the first officer yelled. Every hand on-board sprang into action, running from the crew quarters and to their designated station. The horn continued to sound loudly in the command station of the U-Boat. People shouted orders to one another, sometimes with responses. This chaos couldn't cover up the sound of the engines roaring to life towards the stern of the boat.

"I want this boat underwater now!" the officer yelled for the men to work faster. With good reason; the threat was fast approaching. The Sonar Officer jumped to his station, quickly putting on his headset in preparation for their underwater journey. Even with all the chaos, the crew worked like the submarine they sailed. The sound of the Sonar began to ping every couple seconds, scanning the water below them for threats as they went lower and lower.

"Planes!" the Captain yelled from the periscope.

"Get it down faster dammit!" the first officer yelled.

"Engines are at full sir! She won't go any faster!" the engine officer responded back with the same worry in his voice.

"Depth charges in the water! Hard to port!" yelled the captain. The helmsman burst into action, spinning the wheel as was as he could to the left.

"Hard to port sir!" the man, no older than 25, responded back.

Suddenly, everyone was silent. Outside, the sounds of the large barrels plunging into the water around them could be heard, as well as the roar of plane engines above them. They were at periscope depth, observation periscope extended high. To evade depth charges, they needed to be much lower than that.

Still, they continued to fall.

Suddenly, a large, thundering explosion was heard in the rear of the boat. All of their worst fears had happened…they were hit. The submarine rocked viciously back and forth from the blow, unsteadying everyone within. Men grabbed onto ladders, corners, anything they could to keep themselves from falling over onto the ground.

"Taking damage sir! We have flooding!" The engine room workers yelled, running from the stern to meet up in the command room. Everyone looked up, fear running through their eyes. Flooding was never a good thing, especially when they were already underwater. Surfacing a ship already below water level was infinitely more difficult than it was normally.

"Close the hatches!" yelled the first officer. The engine room workers scrambled to pull the heavy hatch shut. It was closed tightly, and they locked it securely. Even with one room flooded, they were not in severe danger yet. The U-Boat was designed to be able to stay afloat with one compartment filled with water. As long as they didn't fall below sixty feet in depth, they could remain safely above water or at periscope depth.

"Hatches closed sir!" the men responded. The crew was now at periscope depth, and were safely out of view from the enemy planes. However, they had spotted them, and even with them safely under the waterline, they were nowhere near out of danger.

Just then, a second explosion rocked the submarine again. It threatened to spin the boat over on its side, the force was so huge. A warning light came on on the control column.

"Aft torpedo room is flooding sir!"

AN: Aft torpedo room is in the very rear of the ship, it holds the backwards-shooting torpedoes (to shoot enemies behind the ship).

"Shit," the captain muttered under his breath. There was no way the submarine could stay afloat with two rooms flooded, it simply was too much weight for her to bear. Quick actions needed to me made if they were going to make it out of this alive. "Radio to the nearest ship, tell them we are going down by the stern, give them our coordinates!" the captain yelled to the radio technician. He sat down in a hurry and furiously began typing moor's code on the transmitter.

"Blow the ballast tanks! Get her to the surface now!" he commanded. The crew in the command room set the ballast tanks to empty, and a warning alarm screamed into the room. The captain watched the depth meter, hoping, praying that it would start to show some improvement.

"Tanks empty sir!" the crewman yelled. When the tanks were empty, the needle only continued to fall. He sighed, an unimaginable wave of despair coming over him. They were sinking fast, and there was nothing anyone could ever do to save them now. The chance of rescue for a sunken submarine was very, very slim. Rescue attempts were very dangerous, and it was highly likely that no one even knew they were sunk.

"We're going down everyone, brace for impact," the captain yelled out, lacking his former vigor with his words. The crew left their stations, knowing that there was nothing left for them to do. They all huddled in the crew quarters, closing the hatches behind them in all the compartments. Men piled onto and under the bunks, fearful for their lives. The boat's exterior began to creek and whine under the pressure of the water. It was a scary noise. All the lights went out as they lost electricity, leaving only a red security light on in the chamber.

Suddenly, the boat hit bottom, smashing the crew against the walls. Some screamed and gasped, while others simply held on for dear life. The ship cried as it came to rest horizontally on the bottom sea floor. Then, everything was silent. Not a man moved. They were trapped, completely and utterly trapped in every sense of the word.

"I suppose no one responded to that radio call did they?" the captain asked the man. He was huddled up on top of one of the bunk. He could only stare at his superior, slowly turning his head back and forth in response.

"Well, then I guess we're stuck here."

Oxygen was running very low. The living members were coughing harshly trying to clear their lungs of the toxic carbon dioxide that was slowly suffocating them. One of the crewmen hit the metal side of the fallen U-Boat with a hammer, in some effort to create a wave that some passing ship could pick up. He had been doing that for days now, or what felt like days. The only way of telling what time of day it was, was a small watch the captain had with him. 4:43 AM

"…I didn't want any of you to have to go through this," the captain suddenly said lowly, looking up at his crew. They all met his gaze, waiting for him to speak more. "You all have families, children, wives… all I wanted to do was to get you all back safely, and now look were we are…" he said, a hint of anger lacing his voice. The crew remained silent, letting the words seep in.

"None of this was your fault Captain, we are honored to serve with you, honored to die for our country and homeland," one said from atop the bunk. The others muttered words of agreement and nods were shared.

"I refuse to lose my dignity, even in death," another added, receiving agreements all around again. The captain couldn't help but smile at the men's morals. Even with death quickly approaching, they still could think in such a way. These were brave men indeed.

"You know, we may have lost this battle, but we'll win this war," the first officer stated.

One man from the bottom bunk stood from his position, looking around the small, cramped area. He raised his hand, in a way that someone would hold a drinking glass. "For Germany!" he said with pride. The others raised their hands as well, repeating 'For Germany' as well. There was a round of applause for him as he took his spot on the bunk once more. The captain couldn't help but smile as he continued to write in his log.

Many of the crew had done the same thing; they had written letters to their families, filled with their last words to them. Although they knew that they would never receive them, it was a type of closure for them. To be able to leave behind some of their words was comforting, in a sense. The captain held in his log the letters from the already deceased crew members. He had promised them that he would do everything in his power to get them back to the families, and he was a man of his word. Which is why he was not prepared to die soon.

D:

Another day went by, and the crew was starting to get carbon dioxide poisoning. Their skin was becoming very pale, and some were having involuntary muscle twitching and even loss of consciousness. "Captain?" one man asked for him, his voice barely audible. He was having intense trouble breathing, everyone could see it in his eyes. His life was in very real danger, and quickly becoming very painful for him. With every breath, his lungs stung and burned from lack of oxygen.

"Yes sir?" the captain answered back, the same feeling attacking his lungs with every breath. He was not doing as back as this man was though.

"Do you still have that pistol?" he asked.

"Yes, why?" the captain responded.

"I'm ready t-to die. Like I said, I refuse to lose my dignity and suffocate to death, I want to die honorably," he responded, sitting up from his bunk and making his way down to the floor. The others looked at him, wonder in their eyes.

"You want me to shoot you?" the captain clarified, only looking at him in amazement.

"Yes sir," he replied. He stood tall in front of the captain. The captain let his hand fall to the Luger Pistol that sat on his hip.

"Please take my letter and give it to my family if given the chance," he said, handing the letter he had written to his captain. The man took it filing it away safely in his log with the others.

"I will not let him die alone," another man piped in, standing from his bunk, "we are a crew, if one goes, we all go." The other men began to all stand up from their bunks, standing in front of the captain as well. They all handed him their letters to their families. The captain could only stare in wonder.

"I only have sixteen bullets men," he said, "but that is not a problem, someone has to stay and deliver these letters." He smiled warmly at the crew in front of him. How he loved them. This was going to be the hardest thing he ever would have to do in his quickly draining life.

The submarine was deathly quiet. The same creeks and whines remained, but the feeling of being utterly alone was becoming hard to bear. There was not a single soul left on the submarine except for him. By the crew's request, he had shot each and every one of them, to give them the honorable death they wanted, and deserved. One by one, he dragged them into the forward torpedo room and laid them to rest with their comrades, just as they had said they wanted. He had sealed the hatch securely, making sure nothing would disturb their final rest.

With no bullets left to end his suffering, he was forced to breathe the last bits of oxygen that were still floating around the compartments of the sub. His lungs were on fire, and his eyes were getting heavy. He knew very well after this last sleep, he would not wake up again. Death had him in its grasp, and was not going to let go. Every time his eyes started to drift closed, he woke himself up, reminding himself of what he had promised his crew he would do.

However, even that promise was not going to give him more oxygen his body so desperately needed to stay alive. With no fight left in him, he let his eyes drift shut, repeating the promise he had made in his mind and gripping the letters as tightly in his hands as he could, before there were no more thoughts he could muster.

"I will see to it personally that these letters make it back to your families, I promise."

And he was a man of his word.

Well thats all i have for you guys right now, ill be updating Life's Way soon, i just have been having issues figuring out how to connect the two parts i have worked out in my head. Something will work out, dont worry ^^

Cheers