Dead heat to destiny, p.16
Dead Heat to Destiny, page 16
Later, when Gregor was convinced the Irish Sea was in complete darkness, he commanded a rise to periscope depth. Upon observing no lights, he ordered the U-boat to surface for the charging of batteries.
North Island, San Diego, California
The letter from Adrienne Bock was written and mailed in May of 1915. But because of worker shortages, shipping restrictions, and interruptions caused by the war in Europe, Will Marra did not receive it until late in 1915. Nevertheless, he was thrilled to receive her letter. It was handwritten in French:
Dear Will,
I am writing to your last address in the United States. I hope my letter reaches you, although you may have changed location, and there is now this horrible war.
It is a year nearly since I received your letter. It is difficult for me to know you are now flying an aeroplane. I must admit I fear for you, although I believe I understand why you decided against completing the University degree.
Your letter is here on my desk as I write. I find myself choking a little, considering you may have taken the opinion that my delay in writing intends I no longer wish to relate with you. Although I am understanding of this, please know our relationship is changed. Please allow me to explain.
As your letter acknowledges, I have now lived in Paris for years, and have experienced advancement in my aspect of couture. What you could not know is that I now have my own business. With humility for the patronage of the wonderful Comtesse Cécile Sorel, I maintain the house on rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré (8 Arr.). It is named “Atelier Adrienne.”
This is well and good, but the war has changed everything. Paris is pinched, there are many new faces, women have taken slots surrendered by men gone to fight, even to the driving of taxis. During this last winter, coal was scarce and wool clothing valued. Still, I am thankful that women of aristocracy and wealth continue to desire haute couture, for that maintains my life.
You will have difficulty seeing the Paris where hotels become hospitals, soldiers are everywhere in the town, uniforms on crutches, uniforms limping, uniforms with an empty sleeve—how my heart hurts for them!
Last year when the war came, my parents were forced to flee from Charleroi by the invading German army. Mother and Father only escaped with what they could carry of their possessions. They have no knowledge of what has happened to their home, which may be destroyed. They arrived on one of the last trains to Paris to escape Belgium, because the Germans did not exempt ordinary persons from the cruelties they inflicted. It is merciful that they arrived safely, and that I was able to provide for them here in Paris.
My father, Jean Boch, is not robust, and he climbs our steps only slowly. He often seems lost, absent the friendship of his Belgian confidants. He has gained fortunately employment as a records-keeper for a drink company, despite the fact that in Belgium, he was a successful banker.
To be sure, it is good to have my parents safe and in Paris with me. My mother is a mainstay. As you may envision, however, my residence was not large enough for their comfort nor for my frequent coming and going. I therefore rented a larger residence in an inconvenient sector, where the three of us now reside (the address is found on the cover of this letter). This old dwelling is not satisfactory, owing to the two flights of stairs needed to enter, and certain other deficiencies, but in the Paris of year 1915, we must find it acceptable.
I have received no word from my dearest Grandmother Anne Boch now that Brussels is occupied by the German Army. Grandmother is ill and frail and cannot sustain to be ill-treated. We remain hoping she is safe and is not harmed. But after months of absence and no word from her, it is not without effort to remain hopeful.
One of my seamstresses, a very simple and sincere woman, has received word that her husband-to-be—they were to be married but he was overnight taken to the front—was killed at the Marne. By what instrument she is not told. She cannot think of Alain but to bring on tears. I have done whatever I could to help her, but her sadness does not abate.
These events I write of have produced in me a leaning toward deeper thoughts of life, and how I should importantly regard it. I return many times in my mind to the circumstances we shared together—even when there was but a short walk to the Place Vendôme.
I now think my actions were then partly misplaced, for I did not accept your friendship with the grace you displayed—my attitude was often bound up in achievements rather than in acceptance of your warmth and sincerity. Please know that this has changed. I hope you will understand that I now know I was unfair and that I wish my starry sky to return.
I have no method to know where in America you are. Nevertheless, I hope this letter reaches you, that you are safe, and that you are well. You will by then see I wish to reject my former attitude and repair our relationship.
With warmest regards,
Adrienne
Kiel, Germany
Gustave Bachmann’s eyes glowed with enthusiasm, despite his replacement in September as Chief of Staff of the Admiralty by Admiral von Holtzendorff. Although he no longer had the ear of the Kaiser, the fifty-six-year-old remained a fervent advocate of the U-boat war as the key to German supremacy.
“Be assured,” he told both Hans Techel and Kapitӓn Geighoffer at the beginning of the current meeting in Kiel, “our path to victory passes underneath the sea. And this project embodies the means to that end.”
At the end of his presentation on the results of their study, Ludwig Geighoffer said, “These are, by their nature, general features. Herr Techel has listed detailed specifications for each of the proposed U-boats. Perhaps there are comments?”
“This is all as I should have expected,” Bachmann said, leafing through the papers. “But perhaps Herr Techel might enlighten us concerning the technical advances that are included in the designs.”
Techel smiled. “I am more than pleased to outline the approach. Although I will endeavor to avoid entangling my remarks with technical phrases like Reynolds numbers or thermal efficiency, I must, however, emphasize the importance we placed in integrating science into the design of these machines.” His smile faded. He focused on Bachmann. “As you know, this approach has not always dominated past designs.”
Bachmann met Techel’s gaze, but remained silent.
“In a conflict with the Americans, distance becomes the key,” Techel said. “For example, New York Harbor is 6,700 kilometers by sea from Bremerhaven—by the most direct route. To give a sense of this, fifteen days of travel at ten knots speed are required to achieve this distance—what we call the ‘transit.’
“The transit to, and return from, the east coast of America would use more than 80 percent of the fuel on our advanced Type 31 U-boat, leaving little fuel for operations. The predicament is worse for operations in the Caribbean or at the Panama Canal—the Type 31 is unable, with a single load of fuel, to even execute the transit and return. This explains the dilemma that must be solved.
“Three possibilities exist: one, refuel at neutral ports; two, refuel by vessels at sea; and three, increase the amount of fuel placed on board the U-boat.
“Neutral ports for refueling are ill-positioned, unfriendly, and illegal. Refueling by vessels at sea is possible, but requires contacts by wireless, excellent timing, superb coordination, good weather, and superior nautical skills.
“There is little doubt the optimum solution is an increase in the amount of fuel oil on board the U-boat. It must afford transit, return, and adequate operational time. We think the range of the A-C should be at least double the range of the Type 31.”
“And how is that to be accomplished?” said Bachmann.
“We envision a double-hull design similar to Type 31, but with a pressure hull of five meters diameter versus the Type 31’s four meters. This results in a beam of eight meters, not quite two meters wider than the Type 31. Because of a larger hull, an increase in diesel power is required to propel it. The latest propeller design will produce improved propulsive efficiency, meaning each kilogram of fuel yields a greater distance at nominal speeds.”
“I am not sure I fully understand all those terms,” Bachmann said, “but the boat you describe is larger—what is its overall length?”
“Our preliminary design calls for no increase in length.”
“And armament?”
“Two fifteen-centimeter guns, fore and aft. Two bow torpedo tubes, twelve torpedoes.”
“No stern tubes?”
“The larger diesel engines, electric motors, provisioning space, and oil bunkers consume all the hull, so there are no stern tubes.”
“What about the attack on the Panama Canal?”
“The Canal is a special issue. That operation has yet to be planned.”
“Yes, I realize. But for such a long distance . . .”
“The Atlantic entrance is about five thousand nautical miles—that would be about 9,300 kilometers by the most direct route. This calls for an altered design, which Kapitӓn Geighoffer is working on.” Techel gestured toward Ludwig. “Perchance . . .”
“Understand, this is a work in progress,” Ludwig said. “We refer to the Panama unit as S-3. We believe the planned quantity of fuel oil in the A-C project boats will be entirely adequate to power its diesels and charge the batteries. The increased space for provisioning the crew is also adequate. Nevertheless, the great distance requires modifying the basic design.
“The transatlantic and Caribbean transit may take three weeks. During such a transit, it is likely S-3 will encounter vessels requiring it to submerge, to maintain stealth. Also on its return. As you may also understand, speed is heavily compromised when submerged due to the resistance of the entire form to the propulsive thrust provided by electrically-driven propellers.
“Let me explain. A U-boat’s hull and conning tower, or fairweather, are smoothly shaped for low resistance to the flow of water when submerged. But large caliber guns are blunt objects that provide severe obstacles to the flow of the water. Other blunt objects on the U-boat’s external surface, such as a dinghy, also contribute as obstacles. These items slow the forward momentum and thus contribute to reducing the underwater speed.
“Although operational planning will clarify the issue, we think guns will not be useful during a Canal operation. We therefore propose to eliminate the guns, the dinghy, and certain other blunt objects on this U-boat in an effort to improve its propulsive speed underwater.” Ludwig glanced at Techel, then back to Bachmann.
Bachmann nodded. “It appears you and Herr Techel have produced creditable designs. What do you estimate for production time, Herr Techel?”
“The time to produce the basic A-C design depends heavily upon the priority that is assigned, Admiral. If it were allotted adequate priorities—and absent some of the shortages we are currently experiencing—we could build such a design within five months.”
“That is very encouraging. I shall begin a campaign, aided by von Tirpitz’s contacts, to gain the needed support.”
“I understand,” Techel said. He paused, closed his notebook, and looked straight at Bachmann. “You will, sir, note the five-month period does not include launch, testing, and fitting out for service. Also, we must have access to the needed machinery—especially the larger diesel motors—which are critical to achieving the needed thrust for these larger boats.”
North Island, San Diego, California
Two newspapers, a borrowed atlas, and a handwritten letter lay on the table before Will. Next to the letter was the tattered envelope that had held it.
Will read the letter from Adrienne Boch several times in an attempt to embed it in his mind before replying. Finally, he took pen to paper. He discovered that writing in French no longer came without effort. He found he had forgotten when to apply some of the accent marks. Worse, he struggled with his emotions. He’d already torn up and discarded two attempts. He began a third.
Dear Adrienne,
I have searched the newspapers for news of Paris, because I am worried about you. I could find nothing about Paris, and only one mention of the fighting in France. It was entitled “Intense Artillery Actions in the West.” The French War Office reported “the enemy directed a violent bombardment against our positions at Tahure.” After a time, I located Tahure on a map. This appears close to Riems, a city distant from Paris. I very much hope this means you are safe.
Your letter which you dated May 19 is before me. Because of delays (war limitations, I suppose), the letter arrived only days ago. I have great sorrow for what has happened to your family and more generally to Paris, as you describe it. Although the United States has not decided to enter the European conflict, I believe the German invasion of Belgium and France is morally wrong.
I recently saw a report on the fighting at Vimy Ridge which said the French casualties were near 100,000 men. This level of violence is horrible. Not only am I worried about you and your family, I fear for friends of my French years—some boys I know may have already perished in those murderous trenches.
However, it was with great pleasure that I learned of your successful house of couture on rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré. That is wonderful. As you will recall, I have always said you were so expert and knowledgeable at couture—now it is apparent to others. Please write more about this comtesse, Cécile Sorel.
Contrariwise, I have sympathy for your difficulties with obtaining larger living quarters, and the stairs-climbing needed to obtain the floor. Thank you for your new address. I strongly hope my letter arrives, even if there are delays.
I do remember your writings of your beloved Grandmother Boch, and I too hope she withstands the occupation of Brussels. Your story of the seamstress who lost her husband-to-be at the Marne was very sad. Perhaps you could write of others of our acquaintance next time, of happier adventures I hope.
My heart goes out to you on what you termed your “leaning toward deeper thoughts of life.” You said you have returned many times to our times together. I can assure you, have I as well! You said you wish to “repair our relationship.” I am thrilled that you are taking this attitude toward me. I care so deeply for you. I now know I am very much in love with you.
I sincerely wish I could be in Paris to see you, to tell you these thoughts while we walk along the Seine or pause on one of the bridges. Instead, I am here at North Island, near San Diego, California. Whereas I learned to fly on this island as a student of the Curtiss School, the U.S. Army has now taken over and established an Aviation School with an officer staff of about thirty, including me. I am now instructing recruits on how to fly Army aeroplanes.
However, as a Lieutenant of the Army, I am subject to military orders and can never know where I shall be in the future. If the United States enters the war—an action that has been talked about following the German sinking of HMS Lusitania in May—I will take an opportunity to volunteer for service in or near France. This might enable me to visit you!
I hope my letter reaches you in good health and that you are safe. Please also convey to your family that I hope they will remain safely in your care. You said you thought your previous actions were partly misplaced—well, I believe mine were too, because I never took the opportunity to kiss you.
Please write soon.
Warm regards,
Will
Paris
Cécile Sorel burst from the cold into the modest showroom on rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré.
Although involved with a client, Adrienne excused herself to greet her friend and patron-comedienne. “Cécile! How wonderful—it has been many weeks. Please shed your wraps.”
“Pay me no attention,” Cécile said, gesturing for Adrienne to return to her client. “I bring only news of a two-gram loss from my waistline.”
After Adrienne’s business with the client was concluded, she invited Cécile into her small office. “What—other than your diminishing waist,” she said, smiling, “brings you here today?”
“I have most glorious news.” She withdrew a newspaper from under her arm. “I can read only to you what has appeared in Sunday’s New York Times. Although I must apologize—it is in English.”
She unfolded the paper and began reading. “The ‘Fête Parisienne’ in New York in November has brought a new epoch. One onlooker was so affected she said, ‘I see I have never been dressed—I have only been covered.’”
Adrienne laughed, and was joined by Cécile, who continued: “‘Despite certain deviations, skirts continue voluminous and full of inches at the hem. Shown are pointed ruffles or overskirts edged with gold or silver ribbon or braid. Purple, in its many shades, violet, heliotrope, orchid, all will be accented this winter.
“‘Wind and wide skirts join forces to produce ludicrous sights. During the first windy days of the month, the new skirts showed of what malicious evil they were capable. They swirled in the air like prize ribbons at a county fair. The legs of passersby became involved as well, wrapped in several yards of material such that entire strangers were sometimes held in a tight grip, their double embarrassment preventing a graceful release. If women wearing them do so with pleasure, much can be said for the control of fashion over mind.
“‘But the women who have believed that the wide skirt was the only skirt in existence for fashion superiority should modify their verdict, as little by little a narrower skirt is creeping into the picture. It may not be advocated by the most popular Paris houses at present, but you see fashionable women wearing them at all hours, not only in the street, where they are gratefully received, but in the evening, to the opera, and to the dances.
“‘Shown at the Paris Fashion extravaganza was a remarkably beautiful gown made by Adrienne in amber and gold brocade, with straight lines from the décolletage to the knees, with very little suggestion of a waistline; the sides turn out into the train just as they leave the ankle, and the back width joins them. There is a glimmer of amber tulle, a flash of gold on the shoulders to finish it in magnificent style. Atelier Adrienne is one to keep watching.’”
