Guess what! I came across yet one more snippet from this interesting corner of the multiverse: The actual article from the Wehrmacht magazine Signal describing the battle between USS
Sacramento and U-367. Unfortunately, my LG
Executrix 10 transdimensional tricorder is an old model and only captured the raw text from the article, not the actual formatting or illustrations. Oh well, it did manage to link to an editorial comment from a later US-published book, "American Zeppelins-German Submarines", that also contained the article:
Reproduction of December 1942 Signal article allegedly authored by KM Kapitanleutnent Klaus Handel of the U-367.
We Destroy an Enemy Zeppelin
In this day of modern warfare the submariner sees many new and wonderful things. They see our U-boats deliver sudden destruction to the enemy while safely hidden under the sea. They see our powerful battleships and cruisers attack his convoys. They see Stukas deliver deadly bombs on the decks of his warships. They see long-ranged flying boats and Condor bombers magically find and destroy fat troopships, and they read about the naval forces of our Japanese allies delivering complete destruction to the American and British navies in the Pacific.
Thus, it is not surprising that we see the United States and Britain using increasingly desperate measures to combat our submariners in the Battle of the Atlantic. Informed Signal readers will remember that in 1939 the German Reich sold the zeppelin passenger airship LZ-130 to the United States as a goodwill gesture to the American people. Now, it seems that the US Navy has become so desperate in its attempt to defeat our U-boats that it has resorted to flying the LZ130 and fragile craft like it far out to sea to as escorts for troopships and transports headed to England. The report below by Kapitanleutnent Klaus Handel of the U-boat U-367 is a first-hand account of what actually happens when such relics from the First World War meet up with a modern ship of the German U-boat service and its well-trained crew.
“We had just completed a very successful mission off the eastern coast of the US and were heading home on the surface to celebrate when we first saw the enemy zeppelin floating at low altitude about 15,000 meters off our port bow. It appears the American commander saw us at about the same time because the airship turned and began heading straight for us. Although the zeppelin was almost 15 kilometers distant and hard to see in the low sun, I was able to discern through my binoculars that it launched two or three small airplanes (it may come as a surprise to most Signal readers, but the American navy is known to hook small attack planes on the LZ-130 and other zeppelins). As the planes neared us, I ordered an emergency dive to 60 meters. The American pilots released their bombs well behind us - we could hear the explosions as muffled crumps on the hydrophones. Several minutes later, we heard a second series of explosions, this time considerably closer to us.
“For over 36 hours, we played “cat-and mouse” with the enemy airship and its airplanes, rising to periscope depth or briefly surfacing to get our bearings and then submerging to easily avoid the inevitable air attack which followed. Unfortunately, the enemy seemed quite determined to follow us all the way to France and our batteries (necessary for travel under the sea) were becoming drained. I was also concerned that the enemy would call a more capable opponent (such as a destroyer) to assist in our pursuit.
“Thus, I determined to battle the airship using one of the oldest weapons in the warrior’s bag of tricks – deception. After the sixth ineffective air attack by the zeppelin, I ordered all of our decoys released and surfaced the boat as if in emergency. Immediately upon reaching the surface, we engaged the diesels and ran extra oil through them, exhausting clouds of dense, black smoke through the conning tower and all other vents. We were very fortunate because favorable breezes blew the smoky haze over ship’s conning tower and deck, hiding my crew as they manned the guns and spotting stations. Through the smoke we could see the American airplanes hooking on to the zeppelin, which was still several kilometers distant. One can only imagine how helpless we appeared to the enemy! A stationary submarine wallowing amidst smears of oil and debris and issuing dense black smoke from all open ports! To assist in the ruse, I ordered several crewmen to inflate life rafts and take to the sea as if abandoning ship.
“After a few minutes, the American zeppelin turned and headed straight for us. Apparently its commander had taken the bait and decided we were so helpless that he could use his fragile gasbag itself to deliver what he must have believed would be the final blow. I ordered the gun crews to aim for the small control car near the giant airship’s bow and hold their fire until I gave the order to engage.
“Finally, when the nose of the zeppelin was so close we could make out the faces on the enemy airmen in the control gondola, I gave the order. Our well-trained gunners scored immediate hits on the gondola, tearing it to pieces and ripping huge gashes in the fabric hull above it. Apparently this blow killed or crippled the American commander and other officers, because the zeppelin floated right over us without dropping any bombs. Our machine gunners then peppered its soft bottom as it flew overhead, and I could see small fires starting through rips in the hull fabric. Initially, we all thought the huge ship would explode in a ball of fire like the zeppelins of yore, but then I remembered that the Americans used non-flammable helium in their airships.
“After passing over us, the enemy began a slow turn to starboard and I ordered the gun crews to fire on the two large engine cars extending from the side of the ship. Again the range was very close, and we scored immediate hits. Our main 88mm deck cannon destroyed the starboard aft engine car with a single well-placed high explosive round, while the other engine was disabled by repeated light cannon and machine gun hits. Knowing the enemy was fatally crippled, I ordered the ship to flank speed to complete our escape. With its only power now coming from the undamaged portside engines, the enemy zeppelin entered into a sharper starboard turn on course to bring it just behind us. This gave my men one further opportunity to fire at the other side of the ship as it flew by. They made good use of the target practice, destroying or disabling both portside engines and putting many huge holes in the fragile hull. Countless pieces of debris fell into the sea, barely 100 meters below the 300 meter-long leviathan. The enemy was now drifting powerless and headed nose-down toward the Atlantic Ocean. As we cruised away from the battle site, we could see even more large pieces falling from many places on the doomed enemy craft. Knowing that it might still take several hours for the slowly descending hulk to actually strike the sea, and aware that enemy destroyers were probably heading our way, I decided it would be wiser to complete our escape as quickly as possible rather than stay on station and attempt to render assistance to the enemy crew as they abandoned their dying zeppelin for the waves. We resumed an easterly course and lost sight of the enemy as the sun began to set.”
Signal is proud to report that, before returning to sea, Kapitanleutnent Handel and his brave crew were invited to dinner with Grandadmiral Doenitz himself at the Grand Hotel Nauticus in Berlin where they all received special awards for their skill and bravery in this unusual and successful combat with a flying monster ten times their size.
Editor’s note: In many respects this article is a fairly accurate portrayal of the engagement between USS Sacramento and U-367. However, as might be expected, Handel (or the Signal writer ghost-writing his report) misinterprets or exaggerates the damage to the airship. While it is true the initial salvo from U-367 virtually destroyed the control car and killed all officers present, damage to the surrounding hull was substantially less than Handel believed was the case. Handel was also incorrect in mentioning “fires” within the hull. There were no such fires. It is possible the German commander was seeing muzzle flashes from .50 calibre machine guns being fired ineffectually at the U-boat from positions on the lower keel gangways. Handel is also incorrect in reporting damage to Sacramento’s portside engines. In fact, neither portside engine was damaged in the engagement. He saw them cease operation because they were deliberately stopped on orders from Lieutenant Micah Barnes, who had by this time assumed command of the airship from the emergency control station on the lower fin. Also, despite Handel’s belief the airship was going to crash, it was never in serious danger of being lost during the engagement. The many rips and holes he describes in the exterior envelope, although large, had little effect on the ship’s overall buoyancy since they were on the bottom quarter of the ship. The ship had assumed a strong nose-down attitude due to gas loss in the forward gas cells, but never came closer than 200 feet to hitting the surface. In fact, the pieces of “debris” the German captain describes falling from the ship were slip tanks for water and sand bag ballast being released on orders from Lt. Barnes to help her reach equilibrium. Sacramento did face serious danger of crashing several times during her heroic struggle to reach home, but this would not have been witnessed from the German submarine. Unfortunately, the Navy never had the chance to interview Kapitanleutnent Handel and his crew after the war because U-367 was sunk with all hands by the Canadian destroyer HMS Ojibwa on June 12, 1943.