“Aircraft spotted!”

Red light flashed through the submarine’s cabin, as men dashed to and fro to their battle stations.

Captain Seidel, looking away from his periscope, shouted at his chief engineer.

“Take her down! Crash dive!”

“Jawohl!” he responded.

The bell on the bridge rung vigorously, and throughout the submarine, the crew rushed to assume their positions.

A brief ray of sunlight filled the dark bridge, as the singular lookout from above escaped certain death and scuttled inside the sub. The momentary bright soon faded, as the lookout sealed the top hatch.

“We are all ready, sir!” shouted the chief engineer from his station.

“Flood the tanks!” Seidel ordered.

“Fluten!” the chief engineer agreed.

The ship was at the maximum bow angle down, and, with a dulled rush, water flooded into U-7625’s ballasts.

“Lauf!” Seidel said over the U-boat’s intercom.

All crew members on the sub who weren’t occupied with the ballasts or engines ran forward to the prow of the U-boat. The already severe angle of the sub’s bow deepened further, as they escaped the frigid surface of the far-south Atlantic Ocean.

The hull of the shipped creaked ominously as they descended.

The crew, seasoned professionals sprinkled with a few abject novices, was silent. The aircraft, or, more likely, the ship it was sent from, could be listening.

“Periscope depth reached, Captain,” the chief engineer murmured, after a little bit.

Seidel nodded. As the U-boat level out, he looked back through the periscope, extending it and surveying the grey sky above. The plane, apparently unaware of their presence, was flying lazily away on its course. It was far away to begin with, and now it receded to a barely imperceptible speck on the horizon. Still, Seidel would not take chances.

“They haven’t spotted us,” Seidel said softly to his officers. "But I want us to remain under here and silent for at least fifteen more minutes.”

“Jawohl,” responded his officers quietly in unison.

“Do you want us to remain on the same course, Captain?” asked the navigator.

“Ja.”

Slowly, the men returned to their tasks from prior to the brush with the plane.

Captain Seidel returned to his quarters. He hadn’t slept in two days, and he knew he wouldn’t now, but he may as well try.

As he laid down stiffly on his cramped bed, for perhaps the billionth time, Seidel grasped the opened envelope on his bedside stand. When Seidel arrived, on orders, to Kiel, he met a man who did not identify himself. The man just handed him the envelope and pointed towards a pristine XXI-class U-boat: the newest and nicest of the Kriegsmarine’s fleet.

“Good luck, and Godspeed,” the man said. He then turned and walked away from him.

Emptying the envelope’s contents, Seidel read. The orders were not in a proper format, as they were typed in a hurry and not by a professional

U-7625. 3 May, 1945.

Objective One: escort individuals who may be vulnerable to safety. Argentina. Individuals will be in marked cabins. Do not make contact with them except to deliver meals and send ashore.

Seidel nodded to himself. Four cabins were marked, and the four individuals inside were set ashore in Argentina several hours ago, at somewhere near four in the morning.

Objective Two: supply Antarctica outpost with marked packages. Contents of packages must remain anonymous, and, in case of discovery, scuttled. Defer to Gruppenfuehrer Ansbach upon arrival.

This objective was what troubled Seidel. The said packages were extremely heavy, and they took up an inordinate amount of space in the cargo hold. Due to their weight, U-7625 was only equipped with four torpedoes.

What could be in those crates?

Additionally, there was the question of this Ansbach fellow they were supposed to meet in Antarctica. He was only supplied with a set of coordinates.

Who ever he is, Seidel thought gruffly, he better have food.

The crew of U-7625 was quickly going through their food and drink, as their stores were depleted due to all of the extra cargo.

It’s getting pretty bad, Seidel thought. If things keep going the way they are, there’ll be a-

Suddenly, the Captain’s door roughly opened from the outside, and several crewman entered into the tiny space, wielding wrenches, fists, and even a broomstick.

“-mutiny,” Seidel finished aloud.