"Rudder set!"
So we forged ahead at a depth of twenty meters. Of course we are "blind" under such conditions and can regulate our movements only by means of the depth recorder and that precious little jewel of the boat, our compass. No ray of light reached us any longer from without, the periscope was submerged long ago and the steel safety covers over the windows were closed. We had been metamorphosed completely into a fish.[1]
Orders were then given to rise again. The Deutschland carried out this manœuvre with the same facility with which she had taken the initial dive of her long voyage. In record time the ballast tanks were emptied and the change from electric motors to oil engines was completed without further loss of time. The boat was started at top surface speed towards her ultimate goal, the United States.
On the following day the Deutschland barely escaped running foul of a British submarine chaser, disguised as a neutral merchantman. A quick dive alone saved her. When she came up again a wild storm and a heavy sea were raging. Even before the change from the electric motors to the oil engines had been completed, another dangerous looking vessel appeared and before long was recognized as a hostile destroyer by Captain König. He tells us that he "Made one jump into the turret and slammed the cover fast."
"Alarm! Dive quickly! Flood!"
"Set diving rudder!"
"Twenty meters' depth!"
The commands were uttered in almost one breath. But the execution of them!
To attempt to dive with such a sea running was sheer madness, as experience has taught us. What was I to do? The destroyer might have seen us already!
Well, we knew we must get under—and as quickly as possible.