In 1914 OTL, Cruiser rules were in force so any Civilians ship had to be stopped by the U-Boat and examined before sinking. If this Submarine captain torpedoes a ship carrying Nuns and refugee's without warning the outcry will be very loud indeed.
A Better Rifle at Halloween
- Thread starter diesal
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I must have over looked her sailing orders, I believe she might be coaling at the moment. It wouldn't be like me to have things go worse, this story line is all sunshine and roses.
A Hunter Strikes
10th October 1914 North Sea
Kapitänleutnant Rudolf Schneider was watching his target like a hawk, she was a large vessel of almost 5000 tonnes, clearly a steamer or a ferry. The British and French had armed large numbers of Ferries for use as Axillary cruisers, if this was the case she would likely be carrying at least carrying 10cm guns. His own ship was ill equipped to engage in a gun battle with a single 8.8cm gun mounted forward of the conning tower and a single maxim gun on the conning tower itself.
He was faster than the target, she was sailing at perhaps 10 knots and her course had remained unchanged for several hours. This steady pace and unchanging course had enabled U24 to move into a near perfect position from which to engage. He was about 5000m off her port bow, the sea conditions were rough, having steadily worsened over the past few hours as he had stalked his prey. The whitecapped seas and the small size of U24 made Schneider’s task simpler, he had been able to proceed on surface for longer than he anticipated. His vessel propelled along by its reliable diesel engines, was hard to spot. His mind was whirling with plans, he was intending to attack on the surface, this would enable him to confirm that the ship was not a cruiser and would allow the crew and passengers to take to the life rafts before he attacked. He was taking a risk but with Germanies international reputation already stained by the war the navies officers were under orders to obey Cruiser rules while at all practical. By the same token they were also aware of the desperate status of the war, a war that was already laying its hard hand on the people at home. The British blockade and their commercial and diplomatic efforts were making even neutral powers disinclined to export war materials to Germany and Austria. Normally reliable sources of food exports were being scoured by British buying agents, who were driving up prices. The last letter from his wife was full of the economies she was being forced to make, her the wife of a Naval Officer, not some Bavarian factory worker.
Schneider continued his unbroken watch, a mixture of emotions roiling in his gut, he was broken from his reverie by a questioning cry from one of his sailors an older petty officer he was standing watch on the aft quarter. He pointed up, a British Zeppelin was overhead, it had come out of the broken cloud and looked as big as a cathedral, the gondola holding its crew tiny against the immensity of the vessels body.
Schneider had never been in a zeppelin but he had read reports of how they could be used to hunt submarines in the navies journal. His vessel would leave no wake, the sea was far too rough for that but if he was spotted he would be dogged by the Royal Navy. The same lookout now called out again “they are signalling Sir” the PO was right a signal lamp was dashing out some message, he could see the light winking on and off the hull. Had they been spotted? Were they signalling the ship? It must be a cruiser, was it a trap? “Dive, Dive, Dive” was out of his mouth even before his brain had formulated the questions let alone answered them.
Leveling off at 30m he continued on his current course for several minutes, he ordered her back up to periscope depth.
Swinging the periscope around he noted that the target had not changed her heading, he ordered a slight correction to his own course, moving more slowly now they were submerged he judged a course change back to due north would bring him into effective torpedo range. The target ship was hard to see through the periscope, the waves making it impossible to determine if she was a merchantman or an auxiliary cruiser, she was big enough to be an auxiliary. It was too much like a trap, the other ship clearly acting as bait with the Zeppelin spotting for her. The British and the French had few enough airships that it made sense that they would be using them to hunt the U-boats. Even if she wasn’t a warship, she was clearly a troopship of some sort, likely heading over to England to bring over more troops. No however you sliced it she was a legitimate target, the Zeppelin might have spotted him and was likely to be nearby, he would engage the ship submerged.
At 9knots his submarine was slower now than the target, but he didn’t have far to go, he would open fire at 1200 metres. Normally this would be risky, but the targets speed and bearing were unchanged and with his torpedos set for maximum speed they would cover the distance in less than 75 seconds. To increase the chances of success he would fire both the bow tubes and then order a rapid helm change to bring his stern tubes to bear firing a single torpedo from them.
U24 continued on its new course, the periscope dipping below the surface only to reappear as Kapitänleutnant Rudolf Schneider continued his attack run, his bearing orders refining as he sought the optimum range with which to open fire.
The periscope snapped down quickly as he ordered “fire one, fire two, down periscope, left full rudder, full reverse on port, full ahead on starboard”, this was a more aggressive set of orders than he would normally give but this was a war and he didn’t want to give the enemy a chance. He watched the bearing change, the helmsman and planesman both working frantically to maintain trim and balance in response to his aggressive orders, water flowing into the ballast tanks to account for the change in mass. He was proud his men were performing perfectly, the compass was on the right bearing, he ordered again all stop and raised the periscope, seeing the steamer was exactly in position he fired again, the third torpedo aimed slightly ahead of the target. He ordered the engines to all ahead ¼ enough to maintain steerage way whilst he watched to see what would happen.
The first two torpedos were set to a depth of 4.5m and 35 knots, they covered the distance between U24 and the steamer in 68 seconds, the first 45 seconds was occupied by the frantic swinging of the stern towards the enemy and the firing of the third shot. The next 23 seconds was an icy tension, the captain against all practice was virtually hugging the periscope will the torpedos forward, suddenly he tensed, less than a second later a booming bang could be heard by all of the crew then another. The captain said two hits one on the bow another amidships, the target slowing rapidly as shattered plates scooped water into her hull, another boom cracked the third torpedo had hit as well forgotten amidst the tumult aboard the U-boat.
“Silence fore and aft, all ahead full", Kapitänleutnant Rudolf Schneider was satisfied, the ship would sink quickly three hits by 50cm torpedos enough to doom a battleship, let alone an auxiliary cruiser.
Kapitänleutnant Rudolf Schneider was watching his target like a hawk, she was a large vessel of almost 5000 tonnes, clearly a steamer or a ferry. The British and French had armed large numbers of Ferries for use as Axillary cruisers, if this was the case she would likely be carrying at least carrying 10cm guns. His own ship was ill equipped to engage in a gun battle with a single 8.8cm gun mounted forward of the conning tower and a single maxim gun on the conning tower itself.
He was faster than the target, she was sailing at perhaps 10 knots and her course had remained unchanged for several hours. This steady pace and unchanging course had enabled U24 to move into a near perfect position from which to engage. He was about 5000m off her port bow, the sea conditions were rough, having steadily worsened over the past few hours as he had stalked his prey. The whitecapped seas and the small size of U24 made Schneider’s task simpler, he had been able to proceed on surface for longer than he anticipated. His vessel propelled along by its reliable diesel engines, was hard to spot. His mind was whirling with plans, he was intending to attack on the surface, this would enable him to confirm that the ship was not a cruiser and would allow the crew and passengers to take to the life rafts before he attacked. He was taking a risk but with Germanies international reputation already stained by the war the navies officers were under orders to obey Cruiser rules while at all practical. By the same token they were also aware of the desperate status of the war, a war that was already laying its hard hand on the people at home. The British blockade and their commercial and diplomatic efforts were making even neutral powers disinclined to export war materials to Germany and Austria. Normally reliable sources of food exports were being scoured by British buying agents, who were driving up prices. The last letter from his wife was full of the economies she was being forced to make, her the wife of a Naval Officer, not some Bavarian factory worker.
Schneider continued his unbroken watch, a mixture of emotions roiling in his gut, he was broken from his reverie by a questioning cry from one of his sailors an older petty officer he was standing watch on the aft quarter. He pointed up, a British Zeppelin was overhead, it had come out of the broken cloud and looked as big as a cathedral, the gondola holding its crew tiny against the immensity of the vessels body.
Schneider had never been in a zeppelin but he had read reports of how they could be used to hunt submarines in the navies journal. His vessel would leave no wake, the sea was far too rough for that but if he was spotted he would be dogged by the Royal Navy. The same lookout now called out again “they are signalling Sir” the PO was right a signal lamp was dashing out some message, he could see the light winking on and off the hull. Had they been spotted? Were they signalling the ship? It must be a cruiser, was it a trap? “Dive, Dive, Dive” was out of his mouth even before his brain had formulated the questions let alone answered them.
Leveling off at 30m he continued on his current course for several minutes, he ordered her back up to periscope depth.
Swinging the periscope around he noted that the target had not changed her heading, he ordered a slight correction to his own course, moving more slowly now they were submerged he judged a course change back to due north would bring him into effective torpedo range. The target ship was hard to see through the periscope, the waves making it impossible to determine if she was a merchantman or an auxiliary cruiser, she was big enough to be an auxiliary. It was too much like a trap, the other ship clearly acting as bait with the Zeppelin spotting for her. The British and the French had few enough airships that it made sense that they would be using them to hunt the U-boats. Even if she wasn’t a warship, she was clearly a troopship of some sort, likely heading over to England to bring over more troops. No however you sliced it she was a legitimate target, the Zeppelin might have spotted him and was likely to be nearby, he would engage the ship submerged.
At 9knots his submarine was slower now than the target, but he didn’t have far to go, he would open fire at 1200 metres. Normally this would be risky, but the targets speed and bearing were unchanged and with his torpedos set for maximum speed they would cover the distance in less than 75 seconds. To increase the chances of success he would fire both the bow tubes and then order a rapid helm change to bring his stern tubes to bear firing a single torpedo from them.
U24 continued on its new course, the periscope dipping below the surface only to reappear as Kapitänleutnant Rudolf Schneider continued his attack run, his bearing orders refining as he sought the optimum range with which to open fire.
The periscope snapped down quickly as he ordered “fire one, fire two, down periscope, left full rudder, full reverse on port, full ahead on starboard”, this was a more aggressive set of orders than he would normally give but this was a war and he didn’t want to give the enemy a chance. He watched the bearing change, the helmsman and planesman both working frantically to maintain trim and balance in response to his aggressive orders, water flowing into the ballast tanks to account for the change in mass. He was proud his men were performing perfectly, the compass was on the right bearing, he ordered again all stop and raised the periscope, seeing the steamer was exactly in position he fired again, the third torpedo aimed slightly ahead of the target. He ordered the engines to all ahead ¼ enough to maintain steerage way whilst he watched to see what would happen.
The first two torpedos were set to a depth of 4.5m and 35 knots, they covered the distance between U24 and the steamer in 68 seconds, the first 45 seconds was occupied by the frantic swinging of the stern towards the enemy and the firing of the third shot. The next 23 seconds was an icy tension, the captain against all practice was virtually hugging the periscope will the torpedos forward, suddenly he tensed, less than a second later a booming bang could be heard by all of the crew then another. The captain said two hits one on the bow another amidships, the target slowing rapidly as shattered plates scooped water into her hull, another boom cracked the third torpedo had hit as well forgotten amidst the tumult aboard the U-boat.
“Silence fore and aft, all ahead full", Kapitänleutnant Rudolf Schneider was satisfied, the ship would sink quickly three hits by 50cm torpedos enough to doom a battleship, let alone an auxiliary cruiser.
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Sacrifice
10th October 1914 North Sea
The children had settled again, exhausted, hungry, missing parents and siblings, when suddenly the ship shook and then shook again. The hull ringing as though struck with a hammer, then a wrenching squeal. The lights went out, it was then the screaming started, panic set in instantly, water suddenly boiling up from a lower deck. The nun grabbed the nearest child, a five-year-old girl, ragged and filled with sorrow but with a trusting innocence, she reminded Sister Mary Francis of a younger version of herself. Shouting at the other children to follow her she pushed out of the cabin and led them up a companionway; the deck was already tilting as the ship took on water.
She didn’t know how she got there but she was at the lifeboat station, a pair of sailors had taken charge, she loaded children aboard. Habit took hold, prayers that had come hard in the past months of horror recited to calm the children. The sailor gestured at her to climb aboard herself, the lifeboat was already dangerously overloaded.
She could not climb aboard, instead she realised the novice who had joined them on their hellish flight was behind her, pushing her aboard she entrusted the girls to her care.
The coxswain released the lifeboat, the sea rough and dangerous, somehow, he managed to lower the lifeboat without it capsizing in the waves. Then fending off with a boom, the sailors managed to get clear of the ship.
The bow plunged, the stern rose clear of the sea, the screaming redoubled, fresh terror and in moments the SS Admiral Ganteaume was no more.
Bodies drifted ashore for days, one a young woman, her sacrifice remembered by the novice for the rest of her life.
The children had settled again, exhausted, hungry, missing parents and siblings, when suddenly the ship shook and then shook again. The hull ringing as though struck with a hammer, then a wrenching squeal. The lights went out, it was then the screaming started, panic set in instantly, water suddenly boiling up from a lower deck. The nun grabbed the nearest child, a five-year-old girl, ragged and filled with sorrow but with a trusting innocence, she reminded Sister Mary Francis of a younger version of herself. Shouting at the other children to follow her she pushed out of the cabin and led them up a companionway; the deck was already tilting as the ship took on water.
She didn’t know how she got there but she was at the lifeboat station, a pair of sailors had taken charge, she loaded children aboard. Habit took hold, prayers that had come hard in the past months of horror recited to calm the children. The sailor gestured at her to climb aboard herself, the lifeboat was already dangerously overloaded.
She could not climb aboard, instead she realised the novice who had joined them on their hellish flight was behind her, pushing her aboard she entrusted the girls to her care.
The coxswain released the lifeboat, the sea rough and dangerous, somehow, he managed to lower the lifeboat without it capsizing in the waves. Then fending off with a boom, the sailors managed to get clear of the ship.
The bow plunged, the stern rose clear of the sea, the screaming redoubled, fresh terror and in moments the SS Admiral Ganteaume was no more.
Bodies drifted ashore for days, one a young woman, her sacrifice remembered by the novice for the rest of her life.
Live German leadership reaction after learning they sunk a ship filled with nuns and children instead of a military vessel:
Seconded.
For a brief moment I though they might just get away- just enough for hope to be dashed moments later, relieved a little bit when at least one boatload escaped.
Very well done.
Fully mobilized, armed to the teeth, prepared to flood vast areas of the Netherlands if necessary and loudly screaming their neutrality towards both sides.
Alright, so originally Admiral Ganteaume only went down with 40 of its 2000-plus passengers and crew due to the presence and quick action of the SS Queen (ironically, several of those lost were when a lifeboat was lowered to save people in the water and it capsized). In this timeline? I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if Kapitänleutnant Schneider hangs if he survives the war - or even once he returns to port, now that he’s responsible for the Kreigsmarine publicly obliterating a couple of thousand nuns and young children - before even the fig leaf that the public announcement of unrestricted submarine warfare provided them OTL.
I mean, fucking hell, at least the land forces can say they’re only killing them by the dozen each time instead of by the thousands.
I mean, fucking hell, at least the land forces can say they’re only killing them by the dozen each time instead of by the thousands.
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The Dutch are largely unchanged, the German ability to threaten them is greatly reduced, the Royal Navy can still take away the East Indies if they want. I haven't given much thought to the Dutch but they won't be getting directly involved.
We shall have to see what happens to Schneider, but as a side note I have been reading up on war crimes trials before ww1 and they were few and far between. I did find this wikipedia article which is a useful starting point, but also don't forget that hanging was an Anglo-Soviet method of execution, the Admiral Ganteaume was a French flag ship filled with Belgians, if their are trials for the sinking they would be the prosecuting power.
Peter von Hagenbach - Wikipedia
,
better start sharpening that guillotine thenWe shall have to see what happens to Schneider, but as a side note I have been reading up on war crimes trials before ww1 and they were few and far between. I did find this wikipedia article which is a useful starting point, but also don't forget that hanging was an Anglo-Soviet method of execution, the Admiral Ganteaume was a French flag ship filled with Belgians, if their are trials for the sinking they would be the prosecuting power.
Peter von Hagenbach - Wikipedia
en.wikipedia.org
An anarchist plots
10th October 1914 New York
Luigi Galleani was home, he and his comrades had successfully travelled back from Montana to New York. Having always advocated for the propaganda of the deed, he was delighted, for what deed shouted louder than a dead state governor and half a state's National Guard officers. The hunt for the perpetrators was ongoing and savage, miners and unionists had been blamed for the attack in Montana and the capitalists and their lackeys were using it as an excuse to oppress the workers. His efforts had raised the pressure in the American system even further, minor incidents had spiralled out of control in half a dozen cities and towns and many were being awakened to the inhumanity of the capitalist system.
Not all of the capitalists were screaming for more repression, some of them the so-called progressives wanted to blunt the response of the state. They sought to moderate things, to soften the hard edge of business, they were parasites, but they wanted to hide their rapaciousness under the gilding of charity. They had the wit and foresight to realise, that in a revolution the workers would sweep them into the dustpan of history. Better for their costs to rise but to keep control of their businesses and their lives, the costs would apply to all businesses and would be borne by their customers anyway.
Galleani could see that the real threat to revolution was not the pinkertons, nor the police, nor the robber barons, no it was the moderates and the progressives, the softeners and the compromisers. Violence was the energy that would feed the revolution, bringing the whole stinking mess down, so that a worker’s paradise could be erected in the ruins. A utopia, free of exploitation and want, driven by the innate human desire to cooperate, where no man sweated whilst his children starved so that another could feast and his mistress wear jewels.
Galleani knew what needed to be done, but he lacked targets, but his friend and comrade Elizabeth Flynn would know, always a radical she had hardened her position since the recent upsurge of violence. She would be able to tell him whose death would catalyse change and bring on the perpetual revolution. Now it was time to carry out more attacks, using a truck to carry the explosives had been enormously successful. He had just finished reading an editorial in the newspaper, which was screeching about the risks of anarchists using trucks to bomb New York, demanding that the police inspect every truck in the city to prevent further outrages. That impossible demand would throw grit into the gears of business, perhaps a bomb in a car this time?
Luigi Galleani was home, he and his comrades had successfully travelled back from Montana to New York. Having always advocated for the propaganda of the deed, he was delighted, for what deed shouted louder than a dead state governor and half a state's National Guard officers. The hunt for the perpetrators was ongoing and savage, miners and unionists had been blamed for the attack in Montana and the capitalists and their lackeys were using it as an excuse to oppress the workers. His efforts had raised the pressure in the American system even further, minor incidents had spiralled out of control in half a dozen cities and towns and many were being awakened to the inhumanity of the capitalist system.
Not all of the capitalists were screaming for more repression, some of them the so-called progressives wanted to blunt the response of the state. They sought to moderate things, to soften the hard edge of business, they were parasites, but they wanted to hide their rapaciousness under the gilding of charity. They had the wit and foresight to realise, that in a revolution the workers would sweep them into the dustpan of history. Better for their costs to rise but to keep control of their businesses and their lives, the costs would apply to all businesses and would be borne by their customers anyway.
Galleani could see that the real threat to revolution was not the pinkertons, nor the police, nor the robber barons, no it was the moderates and the progressives, the softeners and the compromisers. Violence was the energy that would feed the revolution, bringing the whole stinking mess down, so that a worker’s paradise could be erected in the ruins. A utopia, free of exploitation and want, driven by the innate human desire to cooperate, where no man sweated whilst his children starved so that another could feast and his mistress wear jewels.
Galleani knew what needed to be done, but he lacked targets, but his friend and comrade Elizabeth Flynn would know, always a radical she had hardened her position since the recent upsurge of violence. She would be able to tell him whose death would catalyse change and bring on the perpetual revolution. Now it was time to carry out more attacks, using a truck to carry the explosives had been enormously successful. He had just finished reading an editorial in the newspaper, which was screeching about the risks of anarchists using trucks to bomb New York, demanding that the police inspect every truck in the city to prevent further outrages. That impossible demand would throw grit into the gears of business, perhaps a bomb in a car this time?