June 10, 1944 Kaptain Sajer U-5918 Brunhilde
Morale among the men is atrocious. News from back home has been worse and worse by the day, it seems the Allies finally sprung their attack across the Channel from England and swept the Army and the SS. All the hard work from the lads in the East will soon have been for nothing if the allies continue with this headway. Burton seems to be getting more intent on running a test of the Kettle, but we are simply too far from any safe or neutral port if anything were to fail. Kessler especially has become distant, I fear I’ve had to remind him too many times that his place is with the crew and not the science team. Hochberg remains as dependable as ever but I worry I am relying far too much on the Schwabian. The risk that are needed in the coming days will test us to our souls and I wonder if we’ve got the mettle. Science has enabled us to take impossible risks, but at what cost will we dare open Pandora’s Box?
Ke set the finished log book aside and explained her findings while Perry handed her the next. As she opened it, two well pressed envelopes fell away. Akin picked the letters up from the floor and peered at the scrawlings.
“They look like addresses…” He muttered.
Ke scanned the first entry and nodded, “That would be because they were written by men who did not expect to live, and it appears they were right.”
Some of the color left Akin’s lips as he looked back down at the envelopes. Perry leaned forward, wishing he could read the logs.
July 4, 1944 Kaptain Sajer U-5918 Brunhilde
Burton tested the Kettle behind my back. I suspect Kessler gave some sort of tacit permission, but the half planned effort cost us much and at minimal gain. I was roused from sleep by Hochberg and one of the salvagers and informed of the treachery, but only after the fact. It appears that while we were tracking a US merchant vessel and scanning radio traffic, Kessler made the call to obtain the kill. The ship was targeted and sunk with little issue, a clean kill and one that I would typically have rewarded, if not for the insanity that followed.
We settled the Brunhilde on the floor below and equipped a three man salvage team to use the Kettle and scour the wreckage of our kill. The lads went into the Kettle and that seemed to go well and fine, as horrifying as it appeared to the rest of the science team. It was during their salvage of the destroyed merchant vessel that one of the boys tore his suit on something. He leaked out all the fluid the Kettle gave and simply hadn’t noticed, it seems. His partner went to drag him out of the fresh debris but be settling ship was still moving on the sandy floor and he was crushed by more of the boat.
By the time I was brought to the command deck, Kessler had already sortied out three more divers to recover the first team. I would have seemed the cruel and unforgiving commander but we simply couldn’t risk more of our mission on this hair brained folly. The boys recovered our dead and morale is still crushingly low, but we also recovered fresh provisions and other supplies from the kill. Small things like crates of oranges help the boys to get through moments.
Enclosed in this entry are the personal letters home of Diver First Class Ernst Gastin and Divers Mate Second Class Guenther Hovendick. In the name of the Führer they died for their fatherland.
Sieg Heil
Ke leaned back in her chair and looked to Akin. “It looks like Brunhilde was able to eat what she killed.”
“Yes but what is this kettle?” Perry tried to focus.
Ke offered a shrug and continued reading.
“I’ll get more coffee…”, muttered Akin, setting the letters from the dead men down and slowly carrying his heavy body toward the door.