The moonlit waters of the Mediterranean shimmered as HMS Upholder sliced through the waves, her hull barely breaking the surface. It was May 24, 1941, and the diminutive British submarine prowled ten nautical miles east of Siracusa, Sicily. Through the periscope, Lieutenant Commander Wanklyn's keen eyes scanned the horizon. Suddenly, he froze. The silhouettes of three massive liners materialized, escorted by a protective screen of destroyers. This heavily guarded convoy could only mean one thing - thousands of Axis troops bound for North Africa.
Wanklyn's mind raced. Upholder's presence was still unknown, but for how long was difficult to say. The nearest destroyer was only 400 yards away. With her limited dive depth, Upholder was acutely vulnerable to depth charges in these clear, shallow waters. Yet the opportunity was too great to pass up. Wanklyn gave the order to close in. At 1,000 yards, Upholder's torpedo tubes swung into position. The seconds ticked by as Wanklyn waited for the perfect moment. At last, he barked the command to fire.
Two torpedoes erupted from Upholder's tubes, streaking through the water towards their target. As Wanklyn watched, the projectiles zeroed in on the largest liner. But he would have no chance to observe their effect; a destroyer was heading straight for them, preparing a barrage of powerful depth charges. If Upholder were to survive, she would need to dive deep and hope to find a hiding place in those shallow waters…
14 окт 2024
