The U-534 rocked gently in the cold Atlantic waters as the explosion from the convoy ship echoed across the dark ocean. The cheers and shouts of victory reverberated through the submarine, the tension and fear that had gripped the crew moments ago now replaced with a surge of triumph. They had done it—they had struck their first target, and the euphoria was palpable.
Müller, standing on the watchtower, watched silently as the convoy ship burned, its flames licking the night sky before it slowly began to sink into the icy depths. He could hear the men below, their voices loud with celebration, but his own heart was heavy. War was an unforgiving teacher, and tonight was only the first of many lessons.
He turned to Dieter, who was still gripping his binoculars, staring at the wreckage with a mix of awe and horror. "How are you feeling, Dieter?" Müller asked, his voice calm, but there was an edge to it, something thoughtful.
Dieter lowered his binoculars and sighed. "I'm happy we hit it, Captain. But… I can't help but imagine the men on that ship. They were just like us, doing their duty. Now they're dead, sinking with their ship."
Müller nodded slowly, understanding the conflict Dieter was feeling. "This is the reality of war, Dieter. It's not just about the thrill of victory. Those men were our enemies, yes, but they were also soldiers, just like us. You will witness far more brutal scenes than this, and if you let pity or sympathy cloud your judgment, it could be the end of you. The enemy is the enemy. We must be vigilant, or we will fall by our own hand."
Dieter seemed to mull this over before responding, his voice firm as he recited a slogan he had likely heard many times. "We fight until the death, Captain. For Führer and Fatherland."
The mention of Hitler's name made Müller's expression harden, his face showing a flash of distaste that did not go unnoticed by Dieter. Müller stared at him for a moment, weighing his words carefully before speaking.
"Dieter, you must not fall into that ideology," Müller said, his voice steady but filled with a quiet intensity. "War is not about fighting until death; war is about fighting to survive. Serving your country is not an act of cowardice, but dying without reason is a tragedy that destroys more than just lives—it destroys humanity. Bravery is not in seeking death, but in persevering through it, ensuring that you live to see another day, to serve another purpose."
Before Dieter could respond, Müller's attention snapped back to the horizon as something caught his eye. He quickly raised his binoculars, his heart pounding as he scanned the sky. There, moving fast through the night, was a shadowy figure—a fighter jet, sleek and deadly, slicing through the fog. It was a hunter, and they were its prey.
"Scheiße," Müller hissed, his mind racing. "We've got company, Dieter."
Dieter's eyes widened as he followed Müller's gaze, the realization hitting him hard. It was too late to man the machine guns—they had been caught off guard. The jet was already too close, its engines roaring as it homed in on their position.
Panic spread through the crew as the news travelled down the hatch. The celebration was abruptly cut short, replaced by the cold fear of impending doom. The men scrambled to their stations, but the question on everyone's mind was the same: Was this their lucky night, or had their victory just turned into a death sentence?
Müller's grip on the binoculars tightened as he watched the jet, its sleek body cutting through the sky with lethal precision. "All hands, brace for impact!" he shouted, his voice commanding.
The U-534 had survived its first encounter with the enemy, but as the fighter jet closed in, Müller knew that the true test of their luck and resolve was only just beginning.