Nazi Germany's Type XXI U-boat was a weapon of the future. It was the companion of jets, rockets, noise guns, and the other fantastic devices that came out of a morally bankrupt, desperate cause. This boat came too late in the war in quantities that served the master race not at all. Had this vessel come earlier, had her production difficulties been resolved, had the Allies not controlled the skies as completely as they did, Winston Churchill might have been moved once more to utter "The only thing that ever really frightened me during the war was the U-boat peril".

Before the Elektroboote (Type XXI U-Boot), the Kriegsmarine conducted its undersea war against it enemy with vessels that lived mostly on the surface of the seas not, as true submarines should, below its surface. The sea for the various conventional U-boats was a place of refuge, or camouflage, or (something that became all too obvious as the war progressed), a graveyard. Formidable in intent and application the Kriegsmarine's U-boat force was not as large as its success rate indicated. Not every boat in the U-boat roster was capable of operating over long distances, which prevented them from sailing the often-hostile North Atlantic. The coastal boats (Types IIA through IID) were small compared to their Atlantic cousins, carried fewer torpedoes than their long-range cousins, no deck gun, were limited in range, and were manned by about twenty-five crewmen, or about half the normal complement of the larger boats.

The Atlantic and long-range U-boats roamed the ocean theaters of war if not with impunity than certainly at will -- until the fortunes of war turned on Nazi Germany. These were the Type IXs and VIIs, each of the types undergoing modifications to meet the changing needs of the war. Most of these U-boats were hunters -- their sole purpose was to locate and destroy enemy ships. Both types were designed to travel nearly 12, 000 miles, carrying 22 torpedoes (or a combination of mines and torpedoes), and armed with a deck gun. Living conditions aboard these U-boats were shocking. Bearded and hollow-eyed sailors moved about in the dark confines of a cold, clammy tube that stank -- as their American counterparts remarked, of "feets and farts." Food was stored in any available space and those items not immediately consumed (or canned) became rancid, moldy, or fell apart. The only civilized moment for U-boat crews, except returning home, was snatching a few minutes to lounge on deck or steal a smoke on the gun platform at the rear of the conning tower. Those crewmembers lucky enough to enjoy a respite on the Wintergarten, as it was known, could bask under a comforting sun, or marvel at the vastness of an Atlantic sky. There was always a price for luxury aboard these U-boats far from shore -- time on the surface to recharge batteries or the give the men a moment to smoke, was time for the enemy, the hated "bees" to swoop out of the sky. The boats were quickly rendered obsolete weapons by the changing technology of warfare and the men who sailed in them were doomed. Eventually three quarters of the men who went to war in U-boats, and over 700 boats failed to return.

The German navy was gradually losing control of the North Atlantic. The Allies made tremendous strides in developing technology and tactics to find and destroy U-boats. Hunter-killer groups roamed the Atlantic Ocean, combining aircraft launched from jeep carriers with surface vessels equipped with the latest in underwater detection devices. The enemy took its toll against the Kriegsmarine U-boats despite efforts to reclaim the ocean that had once belonged to them.

It's estimated that fully one-third of the German U-boat force was either in port preparing to leave or having just entered, one third was one duty in their assigned locale and one-third was departing or arriving on station. A number of boats were designated for special purpose with a few even pulled aside and plans made to fit them out as flak-boats. These Type VII and IX boats, like all contemporary submarines of all nations, were fastest above the seas. Their design of knife-sharp bow and cluttered deck was that of a functional surface vessel. And yet the sea's surface was a killing field for these U-boats. The dilemma was deploying the boats in a timely manner while preventing them from being destroyed by the thousands of enemy ships and aircraft that patrolled the Atlantic. It's all a matter of technology. They could run on diesels on the sea's surface, gulping in air for the combustion, make good speed (maybe seven knots), and be at their station in a reasonable time. Or, if circumstances demanded (the presence of enemy forces), they submerged, ran on electric motors at perhaps four knots, and prayed they could put enough distance between and the enemy to surface, recharge their batteries, and proceed to their destination. It was a tenuous existence at best that could be addressed only by the new Elektroboote.

With speed alone, the Type XXI U-boat was impressive. She was the first type of any submarine, anywhere, to go faster below the surface of the water that she did upon it. Her skin was sleek, unadorned, except by the squat conning tower that rose amidships. There was no deck gun to slow her and the only anti-aircraft defense that she needed, besides the four 20 mm cannon in turrets fore and aft of the conning tower was her stealth.  Her nose was not sharp, but blunt like a fish's, and she could travel nearly 16,000 miles before returning to port. Submerged the Type XXI could cruise up to 340 nautical miles at five knots an hour -- faster and five times the distance of her sisters. Her crew did not have to muscle the heavy torpedoes or mines into place prior to launching the -- there were machines for that. Brute force had given way to mechanization and luxury supplied with showers to clean the stench and grime from a seaman's back. She could remain safely hidden from the enemy and draw in air through her Schnorchel -- a device that permitted the boat to operate her diesel engines and recharge her batteries while submerged. The preservation of food would remain a problem on long voyages but not nearly so much as before. These U-boats had freezers.  

The Type XXI could draw on a nearly silent propulsion system and trail her prey virtually unobserved.  She was the most modern vessel afloat, the most promising weapon in the Fuehrer's arsenal, and for all of this, she would prove the most disappointing. Of the 118 Type XXI U-boats completed, just four embarked on patrol. The reasons for such a dismal showing of such a remarkable machine are varied. The vessels were constructed in eight sections at inland sites and were then transported to coastal areas for assembly. The rationale behind this process is sound -- the Allies controlled the air, giving them a very large target for an extended period of time is to invite disaster. But the boats suffered.  The manufacturers responsible for building the sections were not shipbuilders. And these new boats were the most complex U-boats ever built. Part of the blame is Albert Speer's of course, but it must be shared with Karl Doenitz, Grand Admiral of the Kriegsmarine. When his authority was over U-boats only, he resisted switching Germany's limited industrial resources to the construction of new U-boats. He feared such a move would deprive him of critically needed conventional U-boats to fight off the steadily increasing Allied threat in the Atlantic Ocean.

Doenitz had an argument. U-boat casualties in the beginning had been inconsequential. In 1939 the U-boat service lost just nine boats. In 1940 this jumped to twenty-four. The death-knell for Germany's submariners tolled in 1943. Just the year before thirty-four boats failed to return to port, but the following year it was two hundred thirty-seven. There was no question about it -- U-boat men stood on the devil's shovel and were about to be tossed into the flames of Hell.

The Type XXI U-boat could have snatched the North Atlantic from the British and Americans and returned it to its rightful owners -- the Kriegsmarine's submariners. This cold sea had been theirs by virtue of blood and toil and it could be wrested away from the enemy with the aid of the remarkable boat. But it was not the boat alone that gave Germany control of the North Atlantic and for a time, America's east coast. It was the fifty or so sailors in each boat, and the man with the white cap and gray leather coat who led them. When the Type XXI became available the best of the crews were long dead. The boats themselves were temperamental, mechanically flawed and had not yet proved themselves. By war's end what remained of these remarkable boats were scrapped, tied alongside their older sisters awaiting disposition, or on their way to foreign lands as spoils of war. Their secrets were harvested by the Americans, French, English, and Soviets, and incorporated in a new generation of submarines.

In 1985 the remnants of four Type XXI U-boats were discovered in the remains of U-boat bunker in Hamburg, Germany. The bunker was sealed and now supports a parking lot. It appears that even these remarkable weapons did not escape the ultimate end of many U-boatmen -- consignation to an unmarked grave.