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nanuk_dainTitle: In An Ideal World, Things Would Have Been Different
Part: I - Hartenstein POV
Chapter: 03/?
Fandom: The Sinking of the Laconia
Pairing: Werner Hartenstein/Thomas Mortimer
Author: Nanuk Dain
e-mail: nanukdain@gmx.net
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: first time
Word count of chapter: approx. 3.360
Word count total: approx. 10.150
Disclaimer: Not mine, and never will be. I mean no disrespect to the real people, this is entirely based on the portrayal of the actors in the movie. And my crazy imagination XD
Comment: Yep, I'm in a productive mood - scientific writing and fictional writing, both in one day (my paper for uni is coming nicely XD) As always, this chapter is for my dear![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
clonesgirl - a wee something for you to enjoy over breakfast ^^
The ususal: Some of the dialogue is taken from the movie, sometimes adapted to my storyline. /"Blabla"/ are things originally said in German.
Chapter 1, Chapter 2
Summary: Sometimes you meet the right person at the very wrong time, Hartenstein thinks while he watches the MPs lead Mortimer away to their waiting vehicle.
*******
PART I - Hartenstein POV
CHAPTER 3
U-156, approximately 660 miles off the coast of West Africa
September 15th 1942
Hartenstein is standing on the conning tower with the binoculars in hands, scanning his section of the horizon. There are four crew members facing in other directions so that they cover the entire perimeter at the same time. Hartenstein wants to make sure they don't miss the two submarines coming for their aid, and he wants to ascertain even more that it's indeed their support he's letting close to his ship, and not some allied attack ploy. That's why he and his men have been here for hours, constantly checking the horizon for signs of the expected ships.
Down on deck and in the lifeboats there are people fishing again. It's an activity that has become quite popular, and it doesn't hurt that the fresh fish adds to their diet some much needed variation. Hartenstein noticed an hour ago that Mortimer joined a group of five men who are chatting while fishing, their feet dangling from the side of the deck. Hartenstein immediately recognises the British boxer and of course the Italian with big mouth. Those two seem to be attached by the hip, Hartenstein noticed that it's rare to find one without the other.
He can't help finding it interesting how things seem to be askew in this particular situation, how generally accepted truths are ignored and expected hostile behaviour is suspended. Even Rosteau has an obvious weak spot for the little British boy, not to mention that the boy seems to really like Rosteau, never mind the language barrier. It seem as if everybody on board the U-156 is in their own little bubble here in the middle of the nowhere, where the rules of war and the animosity of nationalities don't apply. It really is reminiscent of the truce in the last war, Hartenstein thinks with a smirk and goes back to watching the horizon.
It's shortly before noon that Hartenstein spots the U-507 in the distance, not far behind a second submarine that has to be the Capellini. He grins while watching the two submarines approach. He is more than grateful to get at least some of the survivors off his ship. The U-156 is simply not made for close to four hundred fifty people, and it's been getting more and more crowded with each newly arriving lifeboat. It'll do them all some good to get a bit more space, along with fresh supplies of food and water.
It takes a few hours to ferry the passengers and the supplies from one ship to the other. At times they have five inflatable dinghies passing back and forth between the three submarines. Hartenstein watches from U-507's conning tower and enjoys a smoke with Schacht. He can see the Italians climbing from U-156's deck into one of the lifeboats that's been recruited to serve as a transport boat. Hartenstein easily recognises Mortimer's tall frame and next to him the Italian with the big mouth. Together they're organising the transfer, Mortimer with the lists and a pencil in his hand. Hartenstein suppresses a smirk and turns back to Schacht. Some things just don't change.
It's late afternoon by the time the U-507 and the Capellini are ready to leave. Hartenstein returns to the U-156 with the last supply run. There are some eighty people less on his ship now, but it's still crowded. The fact that on his orders Dengler puts a hearty meal on the table for dinner that night raises spirits considerably, though, just as Hartenstein knew it would. They're not short on supplies anymore, so he can afford to indulge his guests for one evening and make sure the atmosphere on board remains peaceful.
Soon after they separate from the other ships, Hartenstein gives the order to follow U-507 and the Capellini to the rendez-vous point with the French vessel Gloire. They're a lot slower than the other submarines because the U-156 still has four lifeboats in tow and Hartenstein makes sure to stay slow enough to not risk them capsizing. A few more days, then they'll meet up with the Gloire and the survivors will be transferred off his ship and onto the allied vessel.
They've managed so far, so they'll manage for another few days.
***
U-156, approximately 644 miles off the coast of West Africa
September 16th 1942
"Captain! Get down!"
It's out of the corner of his eye that Hartenstein sees Mortimer lunge for him, then he feels his hands grab his shoulders and the momentum of his tackle brings them both down at the same time that the entire ship shudders under several incoming bombs. Hartenstein hits the deck hard, the impact numbing his hands where he caught himself. He's soaked, but he doesn't pay it any attention, instead he gets to his feet, already shouting commands. /"Kappt die Schleppleinen! Kappt die Schleppleinen!"/
"Cut the tow ropes!" he hears Mortimer's voice shout the same command over the general panic, and a few survivors actually follow the command and join the submariners' efforts to release the lifeboats from their lines.
The sound of the B-24 Liberator gets louder again, a sure sign that the plane is coming back for another round. It's too late to man the guns now, there's no time, so Hartenstein concentrates his efforts on evasive manoeuvres instead.
/"Hard to port! Hard to port!"/ Hartenstein shouts and his well-trained crew jumps to action immediately. The Liberator makes another pass, and there are more bombs falling. Screams fill the air, in pain and panic, followed by the sound of explosions. Water fountains rain down on the lifeboats and U-156's deck, drenching everybody on board.
It's only when he sees the Liberator leave the area that Hartenstein allows his gaze to wander around to check the situation. He sees immediately that there are two lifeboats missing. There are bodies bobbing in the water, some moving, some ghostly still. The people on deck of the U-156 are slowly getting up from their crouched positions or from where they'd been thrown down by the explosions. It's a mess, but Hartenstein is well aware that it's not as bad as it could have been.
When he scans the deck for potential damage his gaze lands on Mortimer. He's resting with his back against the conning tower, but he's not making any attempt to get up. That alone tells Hartenstein that something is wrong. Mortimer isn't the kind of man to sit idle in a situation like this.
With a few steps Hartenstein reaches him. When he looks down to check on the Englishman, he sees the bloody rift in Mortimer's trousers. There's a gaping wound on his thigh, and he's ghostly pale. Without thinking about it, Hartenstein grabs him and pulls him up. Mortimer rests heavily on him and he's shaking with either pain or shock, but he doesn't utter a sound.
"Come on, Mortimer, hold onto the rail." Hartenstein mutters under his breath while trying to manoeuvre the injured man down the ladder into the ship. As soon his feet touch the floor, Hartenstein reaches for Mortimer and grabs him around the waist to steady his descent. "That's good, let go now, I've got you."
Mortimer does as he's told and wraps his arm around Hartenstein's shoulder in the obvious attempt to take the weight off his leg. Hartenstein hears him breath heavily and his lips are pressed into a thin line. He must be in intense pain.
"Damage report, Rosteau!" Hartenstein shouts while he's still helping Mortimer. He's glad for the men coming to his aid immediately when they see that he's bringing an injured man. There's no time to look after Mortimer now, so Hartenstein passes him on to Mannesmann with the order to take care of him. It's the best he can do for now.
Rosteau is by his side only seconds later, and follows him to the con while giving an account of the damage in the quick and efficient manner that's typical for him. Hartenstein listens carefully, glad to hear that there's no fatal damage and that the repair works are already under way.
Still. This is the end of the rescue attempt. He will not risk the lives of his crew for allied survivors when it's the Allies who're actually attacking them. He doesn't understand why the Liberator opened fire. His radio messages over the past few days made it clear that the U-156 is engaged in a rescue mission. There's no way the pilots missed the Red Cross flag, the huge amount of people on deck or the lifeboats. Fiedler repeatedly flashed them in Morse code to inform them about the situation.
And they still bombed them.
It makes him angry, and at the same time he's outraged that they dared to bomb a ship sporting the Red Cross flag. Under the convention of war at sea it's absolutely forbidden to attack ships engaged in a rescue mission. The attack was deliberate, and that's what enrages him so much. He doesn't even know where the plane came from, to his knowledge the U-156 should have been far outside the range of any aircraft.
"Weber!" Hartenstein shouts and the crewmen comes to stand in front of him just a second later. /"All the British are to immediately leave the ship!"/
For a second Weber seems shocked. /"Women, children and injured too, sir?"/
/"All the British!"/ Hartenstein repeats, making sure to sound hard. Weber nods and runs off to follow the order. Hartenstein feels a tight knot form in his stomach. It's a hard decision, and he doesn't like it at all, but it's the only thing he can do. Playing sitting duck is not an option anymore, not after this attack.
"Remmert!" Hartenstein barely waits for the wireless operator to pull out his pencil before he starts dictating his message to Command about the outrageous attack and the fact that he'll abort the rescue mission. When Remmert has run off to relay the message, Hartenstein rubs his hand over his face and through his wet hair. He knows he's doing the right thing, but it makes him feel cruel and inhumane to abandon the survivors in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean with the French ship still days away from their position.
An hour later, the last survivors are getting into the lifeboats. Hartenstein ordered his men to distribute as much food, water, medicine and blankets among the lifeboats as they can spare. He wants to make sure that the passengers can make it long enough for other ships to arrive and pick them up. Hilda Smith has already left on one of the first lifeboats. He left her the choice to stay, but he always knew she wasn't going to take it. Somehow he finds himself hoping that she will make it, maybe build a new life as a British citizen. Happiness elsewhere.
There's just one lifeboat still tied to the deck, nearly fully occupied. Hartenstein looks at Mannesmann who nods to let him know that all the survivors have left the ship, then he points behind Hartenstein and makes the hand signal for 'one'. So there's one person left, and Hartenstein knows who it is.
It's only when Hartenstein sees Mortimer approach, heavily supported by Remmert, that it sinks in that Englishman risked his life to save him. That Mortimer took a hit for him, the enemy, the one to sink the Laconia. And yet Mortimer didn't hesitate a second to save Hartenstein's life when he saw it endangered by the American attack. Somehow that changes things, changes their dynamics.
Hartenstein catches Remmert's gaze and holds it. Remmert knows what he's asking, and gently shakes his head no. He won't make it in a lifeboat. Hartenstein hears the words as clearly as if Remmert had said them aloud. He suspected as much, in fact he knew it in the precise second he saw the ripped flesh of Mortimer's thigh. It may not be a fatal wound with appropriate care, but without any care, it will most likely kill him. That's not a risk Hartenstein is willing to take. He can't take it. It could be days before the Gloire gets here, and proper care of such a wound is not possible in a lifeboat.
"We like you so much, Mortimer, we've decided to keep you." The words come easy, as does the little smile. Mortimer holds his gaze and gives a short nod in thanks. He knows what Hartenstein just did, and why he did it. Hartenstein can tell that Mortimer is well aware that he won't survive out at sea in a lifeboat.
Remmert is also smiling when he helps Mortimer return to the hatch, knowing fully well that sending him out in a lifeboat would have been his death sentence. Seems that Mortimer managed to make a few friends already, Hartenstein thinks while he watches them make their way painfully slowly across the deck. Mortimer's doesn't put any weight on his left leg and instead relies on Remmert to support him. Hartenstein reminds himself to check on Mortimer later on.
As soon as the last lifeboat has cast off, Hartenstein returns to the con and asks Rosteau how long it'll take before the ship is ready to dive. He doesn't want to wait around for the next attack. A little more than an hour later, he gives the order to submerge. The men jump to action immediately and soon there's the familiar tilt to the floor that tells Hartenstein that they're descending. It's a nice and controlled dive, completely opposite to that horrible test dive they did with the survivors on board.
It feels good to finally have the U-boat to themselves again. At the same time it's strange how the space seems almost too empty. When they're at a comfortable depth, Hartenstein sets course north in the general direction of Europe. Everything is running smoothly, so he leaves the con to find Mortimer.
Remmert tells him they set him up in crew quarters with the rest of the crew, now that the bunks are available again. True to his words, Hartenstein finds Mortimer sitting on a bottom bunk, his injured leg stretched out in front of him. He's too pale, and there's a sheen of sweat on his face. He doesn't look too good.
"Hello, Mortimer." Hartenstein greets him when he comes to stand next to the bunk. There are a few other men asleep right now, so Hartenstein keeps his voice down. "How are you doing?"
Mortimer looks at him, but Hartenstein can't help noticing that his gaze is a little unfocussed. "I'm fine, Captain."
Hartenstein doesn't quite believe that, but he leaves it for now. "The rescue is over, Mortimer, but you remain."
Mortimer doesn't reply, and Hartenstein has to admit that he looks a little lost. He's not sure if it's caused by shock and maybe the pain of the injury or by the fact that he's the only Englishman left on board.
Hartenstein continues when he's sure Mortimer doesn't have anything to say. "May I remind you that you are a prisoner of war, although the conditions and the freedom you've experienced will remain the same during your time with us."
"How long will that be?" Mortimer asks quietly. He knows his future is out of his hands now.
"I don't know yet. So far we have no orders." Hartenstein replies and watches the angry little red spots on Mortimer's cheeks while the rest of his face remains very pale. He looks sick. "You should rest, Mortimer. You don't look so good."
Mortimer raises his chin in a way that is stubborn as well as defiant. "I'm fine, Captain."
"Rest will still do you good." Hartenstein suppresses a smirk in reply to the challenging gesture, knowing it would only enrage Mortimer further when it's the opposite he wants to achieve. "There's nothing else to do right now, anyway."
Hartenstein leaves him alone with those words. He can't make Mortimer rest, but he's sure the Englishman will fall asleep soon enough. He has to be exhausted after the past few days, not to mention today's injury.
It's evening when Remmert comes to find him in the con. There's a worried expression on his face and Hartenstein feels icy fingers of dread wander down his spine. /"What is it, Remmert?"/
/"Mr Mortimer isn't doing so well, Captain."/ Remmert's voice sounds about as worried as he looks. /"I think you should see for yourself."/
Hartenstein doesn't hesitate to get up and follow him to the living compartments. So he'd been right, Mortimer wasn't fine, no matter what the stubborn Englishman said. As if to confirm his bad feeling, Mortimer is lying unnaturally still in the bunk, his face is red and there's sweat running down his temple. His breath is laboured, but otherwise he doesn't make a sound.
/"I came to change his bandage, sir, and found him like this."/ Remmert leans down and pulls the blanket off the injured leg. /"But it gets worse. Look at this."/
Remmert carefully undoes the bandage he'd obviously been in the course of changing before he came to get Hartenstein.
/"Infected."/ Hartenstein says quietly when he sees the angry red flesh surrounding the neatly stitched wound. The feeling of dread gets worse tenfold. Infection is always a lot more dangerous than the actual injury.
Remmert nods with a grave expression on his face. /"He's already feverish, sir."/
/"How much sulfa do we have left?"/ Hartenstein eyes the little packs that lie on the table that's fixed between the bunks. The first aid box is standing next to the white packs, lid open and a fresh bandage already set aside next to a pair of scissors.
Remmert follows his gaze. /"Enough since we resupplied, sir. This is just the emergency kit's content."/
/"Good."/ Hartenstein looks at Mortimer's wound, then at his heated face before he turns back to the crewman. /"What can we do?"/
/"Keep him hydrated, sir. Change the bandages twice a day and make sure that the sulfa keeps the infection at bay. Keep him from overheating - well, at least we're not lacking water."/ Remmert says while he begins to remove the used bandage with sure fingers. /"Try to get him to eat a little soup. Otherwise we can only hope that he has the reserves to pull through. There's not much else we can do for him on board, Captain."/
Hartenstein nods, his lips pressed into a thin line. He knows that the options on board are fairly limited, and land is too far away to even try. Not to mention that it's enemy territory, he can't expect help from that side. /"Do you need some help?"/
Remmert reaches for a bowl of water and gently puts a cool, wet cloth against the irritated skin on Mortimer's thigh. He looks up while keeping the cloth in place with one hand. /"Weber would be good, sir, he has some basic medical knowledge as well."/
/"I'll send him to you."/ Hartenstein watches quietly while Remmert cleans the wound before applying a fresh pack of sulfa and a clean bandage. It must be very painful, and in a way Hartenstein is glad that Mortimer isn't awake to feel it. He was right to not send him off with the other survivors. In this condition, Mortimer wouldn't have made it through the night in a lifeboat.
After a few minutes Hartenstein leaves Remmert to his task. On the way he crosses Weber and tells him to help and assist Remmert in any way necessary. The rest of the evening is quiet, and Hartenstein makes a detour to check on Mortimer before he turns in. The Englishman in still sleeping, and Weber is sitting next to him with a bowl of water and a cloth pressed to Mortimer's forehead.
Weber looks up when he notices Hartenstein and gently shakes his head. /"No change, Captain."/
Hartenstein nods. He expected as much. /"Let me know immediately when there is any change in his condition."/
/"Aye, Captain."/
Hartenstein turns around and makes his way over to his cabin. When he is lying in his bunk, sleep doesn't come for a long time.
*** tbc
Part: I - Hartenstein POV
Chapter: 03/?
Fandom: The Sinking of the Laconia
Pairing: Werner Hartenstein/Thomas Mortimer
Author: Nanuk Dain
e-mail: nanukdain@gmx.net
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: first time
Word count of chapter: approx. 3.360
Word count total: approx. 10.150
Disclaimer: Not mine, and never will be. I mean no disrespect to the real people, this is entirely based on the portrayal of the actors in the movie. And my crazy imagination XD
Comment: Yep, I'm in a productive mood - scientific writing and fictional writing, both in one day (my paper for uni is coming nicely XD) As always, this chapter is for my dear
clonesgirl - a wee something for you to enjoy over breakfast ^^The ususal: Some of the dialogue is taken from the movie, sometimes adapted to my storyline. /"Blabla"/ are things originally said in German.
Chapter 1, Chapter 2
Summary: Sometimes you meet the right person at the very wrong time, Hartenstein thinks while he watches the MPs lead Mortimer away to their waiting vehicle.
*******
CHAPTER 3
U-156, approximately 660 miles off the coast of West Africa
September 15th 1942
Hartenstein is standing on the conning tower with the binoculars in hands, scanning his section of the horizon. There are four crew members facing in other directions so that they cover the entire perimeter at the same time. Hartenstein wants to make sure they don't miss the two submarines coming for their aid, and he wants to ascertain even more that it's indeed their support he's letting close to his ship, and not some allied attack ploy. That's why he and his men have been here for hours, constantly checking the horizon for signs of the expected ships.
Down on deck and in the lifeboats there are people fishing again. It's an activity that has become quite popular, and it doesn't hurt that the fresh fish adds to their diet some much needed variation. Hartenstein noticed an hour ago that Mortimer joined a group of five men who are chatting while fishing, their feet dangling from the side of the deck. Hartenstein immediately recognises the British boxer and of course the Italian with big mouth. Those two seem to be attached by the hip, Hartenstein noticed that it's rare to find one without the other.
He can't help finding it interesting how things seem to be askew in this particular situation, how generally accepted truths are ignored and expected hostile behaviour is suspended. Even Rosteau has an obvious weak spot for the little British boy, not to mention that the boy seems to really like Rosteau, never mind the language barrier. It seem as if everybody on board the U-156 is in their own little bubble here in the middle of the nowhere, where the rules of war and the animosity of nationalities don't apply. It really is reminiscent of the truce in the last war, Hartenstein thinks with a smirk and goes back to watching the horizon.
It's shortly before noon that Hartenstein spots the U-507 in the distance, not far behind a second submarine that has to be the Capellini. He grins while watching the two submarines approach. He is more than grateful to get at least some of the survivors off his ship. The U-156 is simply not made for close to four hundred fifty people, and it's been getting more and more crowded with each newly arriving lifeboat. It'll do them all some good to get a bit more space, along with fresh supplies of food and water.
It takes a few hours to ferry the passengers and the supplies from one ship to the other. At times they have five inflatable dinghies passing back and forth between the three submarines. Hartenstein watches from U-507's conning tower and enjoys a smoke with Schacht. He can see the Italians climbing from U-156's deck into one of the lifeboats that's been recruited to serve as a transport boat. Hartenstein easily recognises Mortimer's tall frame and next to him the Italian with the big mouth. Together they're organising the transfer, Mortimer with the lists and a pencil in his hand. Hartenstein suppresses a smirk and turns back to Schacht. Some things just don't change.
It's late afternoon by the time the U-507 and the Capellini are ready to leave. Hartenstein returns to the U-156 with the last supply run. There are some eighty people less on his ship now, but it's still crowded. The fact that on his orders Dengler puts a hearty meal on the table for dinner that night raises spirits considerably, though, just as Hartenstein knew it would. They're not short on supplies anymore, so he can afford to indulge his guests for one evening and make sure the atmosphere on board remains peaceful.
Soon after they separate from the other ships, Hartenstein gives the order to follow U-507 and the Capellini to the rendez-vous point with the French vessel Gloire. They're a lot slower than the other submarines because the U-156 still has four lifeboats in tow and Hartenstein makes sure to stay slow enough to not risk them capsizing. A few more days, then they'll meet up with the Gloire and the survivors will be transferred off his ship and onto the allied vessel.
They've managed so far, so they'll manage for another few days.
***
U-156, approximately 644 miles off the coast of West Africa
September 16th 1942
"Captain! Get down!"
It's out of the corner of his eye that Hartenstein sees Mortimer lunge for him, then he feels his hands grab his shoulders and the momentum of his tackle brings them both down at the same time that the entire ship shudders under several incoming bombs. Hartenstein hits the deck hard, the impact numbing his hands where he caught himself. He's soaked, but he doesn't pay it any attention, instead he gets to his feet, already shouting commands. /"Kappt die Schleppleinen! Kappt die Schleppleinen!"/
"Cut the tow ropes!" he hears Mortimer's voice shout the same command over the general panic, and a few survivors actually follow the command and join the submariners' efforts to release the lifeboats from their lines.
The sound of the B-24 Liberator gets louder again, a sure sign that the plane is coming back for another round. It's too late to man the guns now, there's no time, so Hartenstein concentrates his efforts on evasive manoeuvres instead.
/"Hard to port! Hard to port!"/ Hartenstein shouts and his well-trained crew jumps to action immediately. The Liberator makes another pass, and there are more bombs falling. Screams fill the air, in pain and panic, followed by the sound of explosions. Water fountains rain down on the lifeboats and U-156's deck, drenching everybody on board.
It's only when he sees the Liberator leave the area that Hartenstein allows his gaze to wander around to check the situation. He sees immediately that there are two lifeboats missing. There are bodies bobbing in the water, some moving, some ghostly still. The people on deck of the U-156 are slowly getting up from their crouched positions or from where they'd been thrown down by the explosions. It's a mess, but Hartenstein is well aware that it's not as bad as it could have been.
When he scans the deck for potential damage his gaze lands on Mortimer. He's resting with his back against the conning tower, but he's not making any attempt to get up. That alone tells Hartenstein that something is wrong. Mortimer isn't the kind of man to sit idle in a situation like this.
With a few steps Hartenstein reaches him. When he looks down to check on the Englishman, he sees the bloody rift in Mortimer's trousers. There's a gaping wound on his thigh, and he's ghostly pale. Without thinking about it, Hartenstein grabs him and pulls him up. Mortimer rests heavily on him and he's shaking with either pain or shock, but he doesn't utter a sound.
"Come on, Mortimer, hold onto the rail." Hartenstein mutters under his breath while trying to manoeuvre the injured man down the ladder into the ship. As soon his feet touch the floor, Hartenstein reaches for Mortimer and grabs him around the waist to steady his descent. "That's good, let go now, I've got you."
Mortimer does as he's told and wraps his arm around Hartenstein's shoulder in the obvious attempt to take the weight off his leg. Hartenstein hears him breath heavily and his lips are pressed into a thin line. He must be in intense pain.
"Damage report, Rosteau!" Hartenstein shouts while he's still helping Mortimer. He's glad for the men coming to his aid immediately when they see that he's bringing an injured man. There's no time to look after Mortimer now, so Hartenstein passes him on to Mannesmann with the order to take care of him. It's the best he can do for now.
Rosteau is by his side only seconds later, and follows him to the con while giving an account of the damage in the quick and efficient manner that's typical for him. Hartenstein listens carefully, glad to hear that there's no fatal damage and that the repair works are already under way.
Still. This is the end of the rescue attempt. He will not risk the lives of his crew for allied survivors when it's the Allies who're actually attacking them. He doesn't understand why the Liberator opened fire. His radio messages over the past few days made it clear that the U-156 is engaged in a rescue mission. There's no way the pilots missed the Red Cross flag, the huge amount of people on deck or the lifeboats. Fiedler repeatedly flashed them in Morse code to inform them about the situation.
And they still bombed them.
It makes him angry, and at the same time he's outraged that they dared to bomb a ship sporting the Red Cross flag. Under the convention of war at sea it's absolutely forbidden to attack ships engaged in a rescue mission. The attack was deliberate, and that's what enrages him so much. He doesn't even know where the plane came from, to his knowledge the U-156 should have been far outside the range of any aircraft.
"Weber!" Hartenstein shouts and the crewmen comes to stand in front of him just a second later. /"All the British are to immediately leave the ship!"/
For a second Weber seems shocked. /"Women, children and injured too, sir?"/
/"All the British!"/ Hartenstein repeats, making sure to sound hard. Weber nods and runs off to follow the order. Hartenstein feels a tight knot form in his stomach. It's a hard decision, and he doesn't like it at all, but it's the only thing he can do. Playing sitting duck is not an option anymore, not after this attack.
"Remmert!" Hartenstein barely waits for the wireless operator to pull out his pencil before he starts dictating his message to Command about the outrageous attack and the fact that he'll abort the rescue mission. When Remmert has run off to relay the message, Hartenstein rubs his hand over his face and through his wet hair. He knows he's doing the right thing, but it makes him feel cruel and inhumane to abandon the survivors in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean with the French ship still days away from their position.
An hour later, the last survivors are getting into the lifeboats. Hartenstein ordered his men to distribute as much food, water, medicine and blankets among the lifeboats as they can spare. He wants to make sure that the passengers can make it long enough for other ships to arrive and pick them up. Hilda Smith has already left on one of the first lifeboats. He left her the choice to stay, but he always knew she wasn't going to take it. Somehow he finds himself hoping that she will make it, maybe build a new life as a British citizen. Happiness elsewhere.
There's just one lifeboat still tied to the deck, nearly fully occupied. Hartenstein looks at Mannesmann who nods to let him know that all the survivors have left the ship, then he points behind Hartenstein and makes the hand signal for 'one'. So there's one person left, and Hartenstein knows who it is.
It's only when Hartenstein sees Mortimer approach, heavily supported by Remmert, that it sinks in that Englishman risked his life to save him. That Mortimer took a hit for him, the enemy, the one to sink the Laconia. And yet Mortimer didn't hesitate a second to save Hartenstein's life when he saw it endangered by the American attack. Somehow that changes things, changes their dynamics.
Hartenstein catches Remmert's gaze and holds it. Remmert knows what he's asking, and gently shakes his head no. He won't make it in a lifeboat. Hartenstein hears the words as clearly as if Remmert had said them aloud. He suspected as much, in fact he knew it in the precise second he saw the ripped flesh of Mortimer's thigh. It may not be a fatal wound with appropriate care, but without any care, it will most likely kill him. That's not a risk Hartenstein is willing to take. He can't take it. It could be days before the Gloire gets here, and proper care of such a wound is not possible in a lifeboat.
"We like you so much, Mortimer, we've decided to keep you." The words come easy, as does the little smile. Mortimer holds his gaze and gives a short nod in thanks. He knows what Hartenstein just did, and why he did it. Hartenstein can tell that Mortimer is well aware that he won't survive out at sea in a lifeboat.
Remmert is also smiling when he helps Mortimer return to the hatch, knowing fully well that sending him out in a lifeboat would have been his death sentence. Seems that Mortimer managed to make a few friends already, Hartenstein thinks while he watches them make their way painfully slowly across the deck. Mortimer's doesn't put any weight on his left leg and instead relies on Remmert to support him. Hartenstein reminds himself to check on Mortimer later on.
As soon as the last lifeboat has cast off, Hartenstein returns to the con and asks Rosteau how long it'll take before the ship is ready to dive. He doesn't want to wait around for the next attack. A little more than an hour later, he gives the order to submerge. The men jump to action immediately and soon there's the familiar tilt to the floor that tells Hartenstein that they're descending. It's a nice and controlled dive, completely opposite to that horrible test dive they did with the survivors on board.
It feels good to finally have the U-boat to themselves again. At the same time it's strange how the space seems almost too empty. When they're at a comfortable depth, Hartenstein sets course north in the general direction of Europe. Everything is running smoothly, so he leaves the con to find Mortimer.
Remmert tells him they set him up in crew quarters with the rest of the crew, now that the bunks are available again. True to his words, Hartenstein finds Mortimer sitting on a bottom bunk, his injured leg stretched out in front of him. He's too pale, and there's a sheen of sweat on his face. He doesn't look too good.
"Hello, Mortimer." Hartenstein greets him when he comes to stand next to the bunk. There are a few other men asleep right now, so Hartenstein keeps his voice down. "How are you doing?"
Mortimer looks at him, but Hartenstein can't help noticing that his gaze is a little unfocussed. "I'm fine, Captain."
Hartenstein doesn't quite believe that, but he leaves it for now. "The rescue is over, Mortimer, but you remain."
Mortimer doesn't reply, and Hartenstein has to admit that he looks a little lost. He's not sure if it's caused by shock and maybe the pain of the injury or by the fact that he's the only Englishman left on board.
Hartenstein continues when he's sure Mortimer doesn't have anything to say. "May I remind you that you are a prisoner of war, although the conditions and the freedom you've experienced will remain the same during your time with us."
"How long will that be?" Mortimer asks quietly. He knows his future is out of his hands now.
"I don't know yet. So far we have no orders." Hartenstein replies and watches the angry little red spots on Mortimer's cheeks while the rest of his face remains very pale. He looks sick. "You should rest, Mortimer. You don't look so good."
Mortimer raises his chin in a way that is stubborn as well as defiant. "I'm fine, Captain."
"Rest will still do you good." Hartenstein suppresses a smirk in reply to the challenging gesture, knowing it would only enrage Mortimer further when it's the opposite he wants to achieve. "There's nothing else to do right now, anyway."
Hartenstein leaves him alone with those words. He can't make Mortimer rest, but he's sure the Englishman will fall asleep soon enough. He has to be exhausted after the past few days, not to mention today's injury.
It's evening when Remmert comes to find him in the con. There's a worried expression on his face and Hartenstein feels icy fingers of dread wander down his spine. /"What is it, Remmert?"/
/"Mr Mortimer isn't doing so well, Captain."/ Remmert's voice sounds about as worried as he looks. /"I think you should see for yourself."/
Hartenstein doesn't hesitate to get up and follow him to the living compartments. So he'd been right, Mortimer wasn't fine, no matter what the stubborn Englishman said. As if to confirm his bad feeling, Mortimer is lying unnaturally still in the bunk, his face is red and there's sweat running down his temple. His breath is laboured, but otherwise he doesn't make a sound.
/"I came to change his bandage, sir, and found him like this."/ Remmert leans down and pulls the blanket off the injured leg. /"But it gets worse. Look at this."/
Remmert carefully undoes the bandage he'd obviously been in the course of changing before he came to get Hartenstein.
/"Infected."/ Hartenstein says quietly when he sees the angry red flesh surrounding the neatly stitched wound. The feeling of dread gets worse tenfold. Infection is always a lot more dangerous than the actual injury.
Remmert nods with a grave expression on his face. /"He's already feverish, sir."/
/"How much sulfa do we have left?"/ Hartenstein eyes the little packs that lie on the table that's fixed between the bunks. The first aid box is standing next to the white packs, lid open and a fresh bandage already set aside next to a pair of scissors.
Remmert follows his gaze. /"Enough since we resupplied, sir. This is just the emergency kit's content."/
/"Good."/ Hartenstein looks at Mortimer's wound, then at his heated face before he turns back to the crewman. /"What can we do?"/
/"Keep him hydrated, sir. Change the bandages twice a day and make sure that the sulfa keeps the infection at bay. Keep him from overheating - well, at least we're not lacking water."/ Remmert says while he begins to remove the used bandage with sure fingers. /"Try to get him to eat a little soup. Otherwise we can only hope that he has the reserves to pull through. There's not much else we can do for him on board, Captain."/
Hartenstein nods, his lips pressed into a thin line. He knows that the options on board are fairly limited, and land is too far away to even try. Not to mention that it's enemy territory, he can't expect help from that side. /"Do you need some help?"/
Remmert reaches for a bowl of water and gently puts a cool, wet cloth against the irritated skin on Mortimer's thigh. He looks up while keeping the cloth in place with one hand. /"Weber would be good, sir, he has some basic medical knowledge as well."/
/"I'll send him to you."/ Hartenstein watches quietly while Remmert cleans the wound before applying a fresh pack of sulfa and a clean bandage. It must be very painful, and in a way Hartenstein is glad that Mortimer isn't awake to feel it. He was right to not send him off with the other survivors. In this condition, Mortimer wouldn't have made it through the night in a lifeboat.
After a few minutes Hartenstein leaves Remmert to his task. On the way he crosses Weber and tells him to help and assist Remmert in any way necessary. The rest of the evening is quiet, and Hartenstein makes a detour to check on Mortimer before he turns in. The Englishman in still sleeping, and Weber is sitting next to him with a bowl of water and a cloth pressed to Mortimer's forehead.
Weber looks up when he notices Hartenstein and gently shakes his head. /"No change, Captain."/
Hartenstein nods. He expected as much. /"Let me know immediately when there is any change in his condition."/
/"Aye, Captain."/
Hartenstein turns around and makes his way over to his cabin. When he is lying in his bunk, sleep doesn't come for a long time.
*** tbc
no subject
Date: 2016-03-03 02:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-13 04:09 pm (UTC)I'm so glad that you like the descriptions of the more action filled scenes - I've written action stories before, and I read a lot of Clive Cussler, that certainly helps XD And since I regard the moment when Mortimer saves Hartenstein's life as crucial to their relationship (it's quite clear in the movie that Hartenstein is consciously returning the favour when he keeps Mortimer on board), I just had to work with it. Also, I love how emotional Hartenstein gets. He's pretty inflappable most of the times and doesn't lose his temper, but you can tell how outraged he is at the fact that they were bombed while performing a rescue mission. I like seeing that side of him.
More will (hopefully) come soon! I have so much more planned for them - and I'm at approx. 22.000 words right now. So yeah, more will come soon ^_^
PS: I'm so glad to be back! Missed this! ^^