The Golden U-Boat

by Richard P. Henrick

  You’re a gem, my dear.”

  The servant blushed with this unexpected compliment, and left after pouring their tea.

  “If I was only a few years younger,” whispered Koch as he watched the shapely woman exit.

  “But now it seems that the only thing which gives me real physical pleasure is my appetite. Now, I insist that you try some of that ham, and then you must take one of those pastries. They’re Sacher tortes, flown in all the way from Vienna.”

  “You don’t have to twist my arm,” said Charles Kromer as he reached for a plate.

  “I haven’t eaten since I was on the plane last night, and that was somewhere over northern Norway.”

  He chose a ham sandwich and one filled with bright orange salmon and creamed cheese. Otto Koch also picked the ham, though his other selection was the braunschweiger, of which he took two.

  One of these smoked liverwurst sandwiches he fed to Beowulf, while the other he kept for himself.

  “My, this ham is delicious,” admitted Kromer between bites.

  “I told you that you wouldn’t be disappointed,” reminded his host, who was working away on his braunschweiger.

  As the two ate, the boat on which Charles Kromer had arrived could be seen leaving on the waters below. Otto Koch pointed to the sturdy craft and commented.

  “Ah, there goes the Weser back to Longyearben.

  I’m afraid that’s the last we’ll see of her until the spring thaw.”

  “So I understand,” replied Kromer.

  “The ice is already closing in, and it was a challenge just to round North Cape.”

  Otto Koch took a sip of tea and caught his guest’s eye.

  “We’re only expecting one more surface vessel before we close our dock for the season. This ship will be coming in from Tromso in another three days. After that, our only contact with the outside world will be by helicopter. Of course, we could always utilize the services of a vessel that could go under the ice.”

  Charles Kromer took this as the hint it was meant to be and put down the tea cup that he had been drinking from.

  “Herr Koch, please excuse me if I’m speaking out of line, but I was expecting to find much different facilities here. Has there been a change in plans of which I wasn’t informed, or perhaps the pen is located somewhere else?”

  “Whatever makes you say that?” asked the old man, who flashed the same devilish expression that his ex-shipmate Hans Kurtz had displayed earlier.

  “I don’t mean to keep you intentionally in the dark, Captain. The time will soon be right for me to reveal our entire operation. But until then, relax, enjoy the food, and know that even as we speak, our great dream is one step closer to its ultimate realization.”

  “But where in the world is U-3313?” blurted Kromer passionately.

  “After all, isn’t that why I’ve been called here?”

  Otto Koch put down his plate and smiled.

  “I admire your straightforwardness, Captain. It is a trait that many would do well to learn. But in this instance, I assure you that your concerns are totally unnecessary. U-3313 is closer to you than you would ever dream possible. I am proud to report that its refitting is proceeding right on schedule. The necessary parts and personnel have been arriving since summer, and by the time the final piece of the puzzle is conveyed here, your new command will be seaworthy.”

  “Is this missing element the gold?” guessed Kromer.

  Otto Koch shook his head.

  “No it isn’t, Captain.

  The gold you speak of is already safely stored within the U-boat’s hull.”

  The look of relief that crossed Kromer’s face did not go unnoticed, and his host couldn’t help but gloat.

  “Yes, Captain, the fabled treasure of the Czars is now ours. Its salvage by mini-sub from the hull of U-3312 went off with only a single hitch.

  That occurred when one of our overly zealous divers apparently dropped one of the bars into the sunken U-boat’s pressure hull. But that’s of little concern, because the other 499 bars were successfully pulled from the wreck. At today’s market price, that’s the equivalent of over $62,500,000 American dollars!”

  His wrinkled face flashed with excitement, and Koch added in a calmer tone.

  “Fifty years ago, when I was but a young SS lieutenant, who was fortunate enough to be the one who stumbled upon this treasure, little did I ever dream what would become of it. Did I ever share with you the long chain of events that followed the gold’s capture?”

  As Kromer shook his head that he hadn’t, Otto Koch sat back and reflectively commented, “Then do bear with me, Captain, and I will tell you a story whose author was destiny itself.”

  Charles Kromer put down his teacup and settled into his chair. His host began the tale.

  “The actual capture of the train carrying the gold, and the battle with the fanatical band of Soviet soldiers sent along to protect it has already been well documented. What has escaped the history books, though, is what happened to the treasure once it was in our hands. The SS unit, of which I was fortunate enough to be a member, was a unique squad of handpicked soldiers, whose sworn allegiance was not to the Fuhrer in Berlin, but to the very principles that created the Nazi movement.

  You see, from the very beginning, there were many in the military hierarchy that had serious doubts that Adolf Hitler was the right man to lead Germany onward to the thousand year Reich. In the end we were proven right, but until that time came, we were forced to play the roles of traitors.

  “When the gold came into our possession, it was decided to keep its presence a sworn secret, known only to those who participated in its capture. We therefore clandestinely transferred it to a holding cache outside the occupied Russian city of Tallinin.

  The gold was to act as an emergency reserve that we could draw upon in the event that Hitler fell from power or was assassinated.

  “You might say that we saw the writing on the wall as early as 1940, when our esteemed Fuhrer first began his lofty plans for the invasion of the Soviet Union, or Operation Barbarossa, as it was called. There were many of us in the military who knew that such an invasion had no chance to succeed and would only doom our cause. We lobbied for concentrating our forces against the real enemy, Britain and its lackey, the United States. Yet on June 22, 1941, when the first of our troops crossed into Soviet territory, Germany began the long, bloody road to its ultimate defeat “To insure that the Aryan Reich could outlive its flawed leader, we eventually moved the gold to Finland.

  With the invaluable assistance of a squad of Gebirgsjager, the treasure was loaded onto a convoy made of mules and reindeer. The brave men of our Alpine elite fought off cold and hunger, to finally make it to Norway. This was our true Nordic fortress, where we patiently awaited the inevitable.

  “Our only hope then was that the weapon that was to be known as the atomic bomb would be perfected by our scientists in time to influence the outcome of the war. Our famed atomic physicist Dr.

  Bernard Kessler was the Reich’s foremost proponent of this super weapon Yet when Hitler and his twisted cronies continued cutting Kessler’s research budgets, the desperate scientist came to us in Norway.

  We instantly gave him our support, yet the sinking of the ferry Hydro, and the loss of the entire existing stock of Norwegian heavy water, signalled the end of Kessler’s immediate dreams. In May of 1945, he was still with us in Bergen as we set sail for South America, to plan the Reich’s rebirth.

  “At the same time that Grand Admiral Donitz ordered the U-boat fleet to unconditionally surrender in total shame, the two Type XXI U-boats that we had under our control set sail. U-3312 was packed with the gold and was sent off to follow us to South America. Meanwhile, U-3313 was sent in the opposite direction. Foreseeing Germany’s defeat, we prepared a secret sub pen here in Svalbard. It was in this ingeniously designed structure that U-3313 was subsequently hidden and mothballed, to await the call to arms once more” Halting a moment to catch his breath
, Otto Koch reached down to scratch the top of his dog’s head.

  His rapt listener remained spellbound, and the old-timer sat back to continue.

  “The rest as you say is history. U-3312 hit an old World War I mine off the Norwegian island of Utsira, and sank with the subsequent loss of most of its crew and all of the gold. Because the sub sank to a depth that was at that time deemed un salvageable we decided to let it stay there. If we couldn’t touch it, no one else could either, and at a depth of 283 meters it was surely safer than a Swiss bank account.”

  “One thing still puzzles me, Herr Koch,” interrupted his guest.

  “Why have you waited until now to act? Surely you didn’t have to wait until this moment to recover the gold and put your plan into action.”

  “You are correct, Captain. But the success of our dream depends on many different variables. We received our first hint that the time was upon us when the recent troubles in East Germany began.

  As the old communist hard liners fell from power, a more moderate group of leaders took their place.

  The wall that has divided East and West is no longer. Today’s young Germans realize the folly of their fathers’ selfish ways. Thus the fodder for the new, united Aryan nation already exists. All it needs is a spark to ignite it.”

  “And just what will this spark be?” quizzed Kromer breathlessly.

  Otto Koch’s eyes glistened as he answered.

  “Though Dr. Kessler is long in his grave, before he died he was able to pass on the secrets of the A-bomb to a group of fellow physicists who accompanied us. These individuals have since trained a whole new generation of scientists, who have established a firm foothold in Argentina’s fledgling atomic energy program. Only recently have they been able to amass enough uranium fuel to make an actual atomic weapon possible. All that they lack is the moderator to control the reaction.

  “Several weeks ago, in a totally unrelated incident, a group of Norwegian divers announced their plans to salvage the heavy water that had been on its way to Berlin in January 1944 to act as this very moderator. When I learned that this same heavy water could be used to actually complete our first atomic device, I realized that this was the sign that I had been waiting for.”

  “But how are we ever going to be able to get our hands on such a precious substance?” questioned Kromer.

  Otto Koch had tears of excitement in his eyes as he replied.

  “What do you think is in the hold of that cargo ship I mentioned was due here within the next seventy-two hours? Don’t you see, Captain?

  We’ve already got it!”

  Shocked by this revelation, Kromer sat forward.

  “Are you saying that the heavy water is on its way right now to Svalbard?”

  “Yes, I am, Captain, and it will be stored alongside the 499 bars of gold, to be conveyed under your command to Argentina’s Rio de la Plata. Here it will be transferred onto a freighter, and sent up the Parana River, to our secret jungle compound where the bomb will be constructed. Then, with this weapon and a fortune in gold to finance us, the Reich shall be reborn, to cleanse a corrupt world that is destined to destroy itself.”

  Charles Kromer shook his head in wonder.

  “I had no idea that the organization was so far advanced.

  Why this whole thing is incredible!”

  “I knew you’d be thrilled,” admitted the old Nazi.

  “During our past meetings, your enthusiasm never failed to impress me. So Captain, do you think that you made the right choice in taking an early retirement from the navy to join us at this critical time?”

  “Of course I do!” shot back Kromer.

  “This is the culmination of my every dream. Just to know that you are trusting me on this all-important mission makes my entire life to this point worth the effort.”

  Otto Koch slyly chuckled.

  “Don’t think that it was merely the hand of fate that led you to our cause during the early days of your naval training. I had been watching you for many years before that, Captain.

  Of course you know of your parentage?”

  Kromer hesitated a moment before responding.

  “I was born in Westphalia on December 12, 1945. My mother’s family name was Hecht. Since I was conceived at a Lebensbome, my father could have been any number of SS officers who were sent there for the express purposes of propagation.”

  Otto Koch listened to these words and fought back a sudden wave of emotion.

  “You are the living proof that the so-called ‘fountains of life’ were among the noblest elements of Hitler’s Germany. It is because of the state-controlled breeding establishment in which you were conceived that pure Aryan blood flows through your veins. Knowing this, we watched you since youth, and were always there in the background to subtly point you on the right path when the time of choice was upon you. You can be proud to know that in your case, our interference was at a bare minimum. What you have already accomplished you have done alone. Of this fact you can be certain.”

  There was a truth to these words that affected Kromer deeply. And at that moment, he felt closer to Otto Koch than he had to any other male in his entire lifetime. Not the type who cried easily, Kromer nevertheless felt tears beginning to sting his eyes as he expressed his deepest thoughts.

  “It is an honor and a privilege to be a part of this organization. The principles that you stand for are exactly my own. I, too, have watched modern civilization progressively edge its way to the apocalypse, and unless we Aryans take our rightful places as supreme leaders, this planet is doomed to destruction, for we are the only force pure enough to counter the corrupt Jewish/ Catholic cabal currently leading this world to ruin. Their money-hungry greed must be stopped at all cost! We must also act at once to halt the deplorable mixing of the races.

  The blood pools of black and white must be kept segregated. Otherwise the black race will drag us down to their animalistic level, and our future generations will be no better than the savages of the jungle.

  “All my life I have awaited the day when the Reich would rise once again. I always knew deep in my heart that our time was destined to be. Germany has already failed two times in this century in its attempt to lead the world to salvation. Yet we have learned from our past mistakes, and this third effort will be the one to gain the ultimate crown of power. I thus pledge my life’s blood to this goal, and thank you once again for giving me this opportunity to serve my people.”

  As Otto Koch absorbed these words, he found himself bursting with pride. Fighting an impulse to hug his guest, the old man reached instead for the crystal decanter that lay on the cart’s bottom shelf.

  His hand shook slightly as he filled two small demitasse cups with schnapps. As he handed one of these to Kromer, he raised the other before him and toasted.

  “To the Fatherland! And to the success of the Thousand Year Reich and the Aryan cause!”

  His guest raised his cup and downed his drink in a single gulp. Otto Koch did likewise, and as the peppermint-flavored spirits burned his throat, he added, “Now Captain, how would you like to see the vessel that will allow our shared dreams to become a reality?”

  Kromer’s eyes opened wide as he replied.

  “I would like that more than anything in the world right now.”

  “Then follow this old man,” said Koch as he stood stiffly.

  Beowulf ran obediently to his side, and with the assistance of a hand-carved wooden walking stick, he began his way toward that portion of the room where the library was situated. Charles Kromer followed, and looked on as his host reached behind the carved coping of the bookcase set on the far right.

  Here he depressed a switch that caused the entire case to slide to the side with a loud hiss. Kromer was surprised to find an elevator hidden in the wall.

  “Well Captain, here we go,” said Koch, stepping inside the lift, along with his dog.

  No sooner did Charles Kromer enter the elevator when its doors shut and they quickly began t
o drop. Almost a full minute passed before it halted its descent.

  The doors opened, and Kromer followed his host out onto an elevated platform that was attached directly into a perpendicular wall of solid rock. He was amazed to find himself inside a cavernous, hollowed out mountain. He audibly gasped upon spotting the brightly-lit object laying at the floor of this immense cavern, for sitting there in dry-dock, on a base of sturdy wooden trestles, was a Type XXI U-boat, whose streamlined surface was completely painted a glistening golden color. Dozens of workers busily milled around its sleek hull, while the blindingly bright flames of a welder’s torch flashed from the vessel’s stern, where its twin propellers could just be seen.

  “It’s absolutely magnificent!” exclaimed Kromer.

  “But why, may I ask, has it been painted gold? I thought the Type XXI’s normal operational color was a dull silver.”

  “Normally it is, Captain. But recently our scientists came up with a revolutionary sonar absorbent coating, that just happened to turn this color when it was applied. So it isn’t merely for the multimillion dollar treasure that’s locked within U-3313’s hull that the workers here call her “The Golden U-Boat.”

  ” “The Golden U-Boat,” repeated Kromer thoughtfully.

  “I like that name. Can I board her?”

  Otto Koch shrugged his shoulders.

  “Who am I to tell this vessel’s captain what he can or can not do?

  This submarine is under your command now, Captain Kromer. All that I ask is that she be ready for sea in seventy-two hours, when the rest of her vital cargo will be arriving. So by all means, go down and get to know her, my friend. Because it’s now on your capable shoulders that the success of this entire operation now rests.”

  Chapter Seven

  When Admiral Alexander Kuznetsov got the assignment from the Deputy Secretary General to survey the Norwegian gas pumping facility at Karsto, he could think of only one submarine to do the job. The Lena was a nuclear powered Alfa class attack vessel. It was small, fast, and manned by a skilled crew who wouldn’t be intimidated by the dangerous penetration into shallow waters that such a mission would entail. And to insure that the job was done correctly, Alexander Kuznetsov decided to go along as a firsthand observer.