I Survived the Sinking of the “Bismarck”

AN ENORMOUS flame surged from the stern of the British warship Hood. Then a column of fire swept upward to maybe a thousand feet, releasing a cloud of dark smoke. As the cloud swelled out and spread into the sky, incandescent debris fell from it into the sea.

When the cloud cleared, nothing remained of the 42,000-ton British battle cruiser Hood, the pride of the Royal Navy. A shell from the German battleship Bismarck had hit an ammunition magazine. Thus, at six o’clock in the morning of May 24, 1941, off the coast of Iceland, over 1,400 British seamen perished, with only 3 surviving.

Whether friend or foe, none who witnessed this terrible scene could remain indifferent. True, the crew of the Bismarck, where I was in command of an antiaircraft battery, were elated over the victory. However, I noticed that some of the sailors around me had tears in their eyes as the British ship sank. They had fellow feeling for the seamen who were losing their lives.

The “Bismarck” Under Attack

On the evening of May 18 we had left Gotenhafen, today the Baltic port of Gdynia, in Poland. Our group of ships was on a mission to raid Allied commercial shipping in the North Atlantic. This was part of “Operation Rheinübung,” or Rhineland Exercise, which had been worked out by the German admiralty.

In charge of our mission was Admiral of the Fleet Lütjens. His flagship was the pride of the German Navy, one of the most powerful battleships afloat, the Bismarck. It displaced over 50,000 tons and had a crew of more than 2,000. Learning that we had entered the North Atlantic, British ships set out a couple of days later to intercept the Bismarck.

When we sank the Hood on May 24, every available British ship set out to sink the Bismarck. That evening the British aircraft carrier Victorious launched a torpedo-plane attack. I was in command of a 20-millimeter antiaircraft gun situated toward the starboard bow. To this day I can still see those British planes skimming in just above the waves, directly facing our powerful fire. One torpedo hit us but caused only slight damage. We managed to shake off pursuit for over 30 hours.

During the morning of May 26, however, a British Catalina reconnaissance plane located us again. The British aircraft carrier Ark Royal sent off two strike forces that launched 13 torpedoes at us. This time the Bismarck was hit by two of them, one of which severely damaged the rudder. As a result, we lost control of our course and began going around in an immense circle. Despite this, I was convinced that nothing serious could happen to us. But the succeeding hours were to prove me wrong.

The “Bismarck”​—A Sitting Duck

On the morning of May 27, we were surrounded by British warships. These opened fire, literally raining down death and destruction. We were hit by at least eight torpedoes and several hundred shells. Although reduced to a sitting duck, the Bismarck obstinately stayed afloat.

The situation on board was desperate. The lifeboats were out of service, having been heavily damaged by repeated shelling and air attacks. Utter desolation reigned on all decks. Tangled metal was scattered all over the place. Black smoke belched from gaping holes in the deck. Fires were raging uncontrolled. The dead and wounded lay everywhere.

The order was given to abandon ship. The survivors all crammed to the back of the ship, life jackets and safety belts firmly attached. I was among those who leaped into the sea, with the wind behind us so as to avoid being dashed against the hull by the waves. Once in the sea, our only thought was to swim away as fast as possible to avoid being sucked down as the ship gradually sank and finally disappeared.

I was granted leave, and on my way home to Germany, I learned that only 110 of the Bismarck’s more than 2,000 crew members had survived.