In the waning days of World War II, Korvettenkapitan Hans Kruger brings his batter U-boat back to Kiel. In a war where mere survival has become the goal, he has become the most highly decorated U-boat commander still at sea, and is looking forward to a long rest. Instead, he is given command of an experimental boat with a dangerous, untried powerplant the could make U-2317 the most dangerous weapon at sea, or blow up her own crew.
Originally published in 2001, with sales over 3,000 copies in English. As these have now dropped to essentially backlist levels, it appears this would be a good time to get the book circulating in languages where it was not previously available. Best markets have been US and UK, with a fair Kindle showing in Germany, Australia, and Japan.
Captain David Ralston, DSC and Bar, stared dejectedly at the floating wreckage, which seemed to cover the sea for miles in all directions. Five ships gone, and all in no more than an hour. If the man weren't already dead he would have killed his 'best' hydrophone and Asdic operator himself. Only seconds before three torpedoes had smashed into Snapper, destroying her even as she attempted to recover her fighters before darkness, the operator had announced that there was no enemy activity in the area.
It had only been the sound of the torpedoes themselves that he had noticed--when it was too late to give a warning.
Nothing around! In minutes destruction was coming from all quarters, blasting apart the killer group he had worked so long to bring up to top-line efficiency. In the short time they'd been patrolling the mouth of the Skagerrak they had accounted for three definite kills and another four probables.
And now this! No enemy activity in the area. Hell, they'd obviously wandered right into the midst of a damned wolf pack!
When his own ship, Loch Grym, was blasted apart, Ralston had only just managed to clamber aboard this raft. Two others, almost in reach, had gone down with only feeble cries, the icy water sucking the strength from their limbs in seconds.
He could still see them, floating silently in their life jackets, the winking red rescue lights making their dead faces seem afire.
Ralston shivered suddenly. An odd rumbling sound from very close made him look around, and he gasped in something like horror, gaping at the slim, black tube of a submarine's periscope. He could almost swear that he could see the commander's eye, pressed against the ocular at the other end of the tube, which was directing its unblinking stare at him.
With a further roaring, the tube rose higher, and then the top of the submarine's...
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French
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Translation in progress.
Translated by Romain Egio
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Spanish
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Already translated.
Translated by Talía García
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