U-505 (Type IXC U-boat)
Just one of four German wartime U-boats left in existence, the U-505 is either the unluckiest U-boat to ever put to sea--or the luckiest of all.
Commissioned in August 1941, the U-505 was to undertake 12 war patrols, but only sank eight ships totaling 46,447 gross registered tons--a paltry sum compared to other U-boats at the time. The U-505 seemed snakebit. On its third patrol, it accidentally sank a Colombian sailing ship, giving Colombia a reason to join the Allies; on its fourth patrol, it was nearly sunk when a RAF Lockheed Hudson bombed it. Only through heroic efforts by its crew did it survive, and limp back to Lorient, France. While under repairs in France, it was continually sabotaged by the French Resistance, and four patrols were ended prematurely due to technical issues. When it did get out into the Atlantic, it was worked over hard by British hunter-killer groups--the last incident, on 24 October 1943, was such a depth-charging that the U-505's captain committed suicide, the only known incidence of a submarine captain doing so during the war.
Finally, the U-505 went out on its 12th patrol off the Cape Verde Islands. Unfortunately for its crew, the Allies knew German submarines were in the area due to Ultra codebreaking, and the U-505 was caught by Task Group 22.3 of the US Navy, centered around USS Guadalcanal (CVE-60), commanded by Captain Daniel Gallery. The U-505 was blown to the surface by one of the task group's destroyers; surrounded, the submarine's captain ordered the crew to abandon ship and surrender. The crew abandoned so fast that they forgot to do more than open a few valves to the sea to scuttle the ship, and failed to destroy either the codebooks or the Enigma code machine. The U-505 continued to cruise, half-sunk, through the task group, as the German crew was rescued.
Gallery ordered the U-505 to be boarded to capture the codes and the Enigma. An eight-man volunteer boarding party, under Lieutenant (jg) Albert David (who would later be awarded the Medal of Honor), went inside the U-505--considered extremely risky, as the submarine could sink at any moment. They found the damage to be minor, and David radioed Gallery to let him know the U-505 was basically intact. Gallery, already known as a bit of a maverick, decided on the spot to claim U-505 as a prize--the first time it had been done to an enemy combatant since the War of 1812. The valves were closed, the U-505's motors engaged to recharge the batteries, and the submarine pumped free of water. It was then towed back to the United States. Aboard, completely intact, were every codebook the Kriegsmarine used, as well as one of the newer four-rotor Enigma machines.
Admiral Ernest King, the Chief of Naval Operations, was incensed: if the Germans found out that the U-505 had been taken intact, they would change all of their codes. He initially wanted to court-martial Gallery, but instead ordered Task Group 22.3 be awared the Presidential Unit Citation and Gallery awarded the Distinguished Service Medal. Neither would be awarded until after the war was over, to preserve the secret of the U-505. Even the German survivors were kept in a separate prison camp and the Red Cross not notified of their survival, while the U-505 was repainted and named the "USS Nemo" to preserve secrecy. The Germans never knew what a windfall of intelligence the Allies had gotten; more important was the capture of the U-505's acoustical homing torpedoes, which could be reverse-engineered. The secret was not revealed until after the war, when the crew was released, and even then parts of the story were heavily censored, as Ultra was not declassified until the 1970s.
After the war was over, the Navy was going to sink the now-superfluous U-505 as a target. Gallery, now a Rear Admiral, heard of the plan and once more decided to save the submarine. He contacted Chicago's Museum of Science and Industry, which agreed to take it on, then convinced the Navy to donate it. The U-505 was towed to Chicago and went on display outside the museum in 1954. It had been stripped of everything remotely usable, but once more Gallery came through: he contacted the German manufacturers, who were happy to help preserve the U-505 as a memorial to all the sailors who died during the Battle of the Atlantic.
After decades of being outside, the U-505 was starting to fall apart, so in 2004 it was moved into a completely new underground hall of the MSI and refurbished. Today it remains one of the best, if not the best, preserved U-boat left in the world.
I got to tour the U-505 in 2009, soon after it went back on display. As a big fan of the movie "Das Boot," it was fascinating to see the real thing in person. It is open to the public to tour the interior, and during the tour, the guide will recount the travails of the U-505 on its final war patrol--complete with change in interior lighting and a simulated depth charge attack. I found myself having trouble catching my breath, imagining what it was like for any submarine unlucky enough to be caught by depth charges; a good friend of mine started to have a panic attack. It's worth the extra cost to see the boat and experience the tour.
Sadly for me, most of my pictures blurred, but this one of the U-505's conning tower turned out well enough. The holes in the tower are damage the submarine sustained during TG 22.3's attack on 4 June 1944, from destroyer 40mm fire. This view shows the extended "wintergarden" of the Type IXC series, though it only carries a single 37mm antiaircraft gun; some IXCs were known to mount quad 20mm Flakvierlings.
U-505 (Type IXC U-boat)
Just one of four German wartime U-boats left in existence, the U-505 is either the unluckiest U-boat to ever put to sea--or the luckiest of all.
Commissioned in August 1941, the U-505 was to undertake 12 war patrols, but only sank eight ships totaling 46,447 gross registered tons--a paltry sum compared to other U-boats at the time. The U-505 seemed snakebit. On its third patrol, it accidentally sank a Colombian sailing ship, giving Colombia a reason to join the Allies; on its fourth patrol, it was nearly sunk when a RAF Lockheed Hudson bombed it. Only through heroic efforts by its crew did it survive, and limp back to Lorient, France. While under repairs in France, it was continually sabotaged by the French Resistance, and four patrols were ended prematurely due to technical issues. When it did get out into the Atlantic, it was worked over hard by British hunter-killer groups--the last incident, on 24 October 1943, was such a depth-charging that the U-505's captain committed suicide, the only known incidence of a submarine captain doing so during the war.
Finally, the U-505 went out on its 12th patrol off the Cape Verde Islands. Unfortunately for its crew, the Allies knew German submarines were in the area due to Ultra codebreaking, and the U-505 was caught by Task Group 22.3 of the US Navy, centered around USS Guadalcanal (CVE-60), commanded by Captain Daniel Gallery. The U-505 was blown to the surface by one of the task group's destroyers; surrounded, the submarine's captain ordered the crew to abandon ship and surrender. The crew abandoned so fast that they forgot to do more than open a few valves to the sea to scuttle the ship, and failed to destroy either the codebooks or the Enigma code machine. The U-505 continued to cruise, half-sunk, through the task group, as the German crew was rescued.
Gallery ordered the U-505 to be boarded to capture the codes and the Enigma. An eight-man volunteer boarding party, under Lieutenant (jg) Albert David (who would later be awarded the Medal of Honor), went inside the U-505--considered extremely risky, as the submarine could sink at any moment. They found the damage to be minor, and David radioed Gallery to let him know the U-505 was basically intact. Gallery, already known as a bit of a maverick, decided on the spot to claim U-505 as a prize--the first time it had been done to an enemy combatant since the War of 1812. The valves were closed, the U-505's motors engaged to recharge the batteries, and the submarine pumped free of water. It was then towed back to the United States. Aboard, completely intact, were every codebook the Kriegsmarine used, as well as one of the newer four-rotor Enigma machines.
Admiral Ernest King, the Chief of Naval Operations, was incensed: if the Germans found out that the U-505 had been taken intact, they would change all of their codes. He initially wanted to court-martial Gallery, but instead ordered Task Group 22.3 be awared the Presidential Unit Citation and Gallery awarded the Distinguished Service Medal. Neither would be awarded until after the war was over, to preserve the secret of the U-505. Even the German survivors were kept in a separate prison camp and the Red Cross not notified of their survival, while the U-505 was repainted and named the "USS Nemo" to preserve secrecy. The Germans never knew what a windfall of intelligence the Allies had gotten; more important was the capture of the U-505's acoustical homing torpedoes, which could be reverse-engineered. The secret was not revealed until after the war, when the crew was released, and even then parts of the story were heavily censored, as Ultra was not declassified until the 1970s.
After the war was over, the Navy was going to sink the now-superfluous U-505 as a target. Gallery, now a Rear Admiral, heard of the plan and once more decided to save the submarine. He contacted Chicago's Museum of Science and Industry, which agreed to take it on, then convinced the Navy to donate it. The U-505 was towed to Chicago and went on display outside the museum in 1954. It had been stripped of everything remotely usable, but once more Gallery came through: he contacted the German manufacturers, who were happy to help preserve the U-505 as a memorial to all the sailors who died during the Battle of the Atlantic.
After decades of being outside, the U-505 was starting to fall apart, so in 2004 it was moved into a completely new underground hall of the MSI and refurbished. Today it remains one of the best, if not the best, preserved U-boat left in the world.
I got to tour the U-505 in 2009, soon after it went back on display. As a big fan of the movie "Das Boot," it was fascinating to see the real thing in person. It is open to the public to tour the interior, and during the tour, the guide will recount the travails of the U-505 on its final war patrol--complete with change in interior lighting and a simulated depth charge attack. I found myself having trouble catching my breath, imagining what it was like for any submarine unlucky enough to be caught by depth charges; a good friend of mine started to have a panic attack. It's worth the extra cost to see the boat and experience the tour.
Sadly for me, most of my pictures blurred, but this one of the U-505's conning tower turned out well enough. The holes in the tower are damage the submarine sustained during TG 22.3's attack on 4 June 1944, from destroyer 40mm fire. This view shows the extended "wintergarden" of the Type IXC series, though it only carries a single 37mm antiaircraft gun; some IXCs were known to mount quad 20mm Flakvierlings.