5 Minute Reads - Anthology

Irish Sea by tristam_james

Dearest Mother,

Once again, I put my pen to paper and write a letter that I am sure to give you by my own hand when I return home, and between tears of joy and tight embraces of maternal love, you will read it and exclaim your distress at my suffering. You will say 'my son, oh, my poor son!', and I will reply 'I'm alright, mother, see? I am home, well and healthy', like I always do.

Mother, you once told me that to be a man was to take on the burdens of life, whatever they may be, and no matter if those burdens were asked for or not, a man will strive to overcome them. You told me that a man accepts unconditionally the choices he makes or are made for him, good or bad, right or wrong, and that no matter if the task were trivial or monumental, a man of real worth and merit shoulders this responsibility without complaint and inspires others to do the same. If I could have found the words then, I would have said that a man also has a duty to lead by example, and to do what he can for his brothers and his kin in pursuit of a better future. A man must be seen to be a man if he is to conquer those challenges and be able to hold his head high when asked, 'What did you do? What is your worth?' And I can answer truthfully now; 'I strove, and I overcame, and I inspired!'

I had just turned seventeen when you told me those words, still young and innocent enough to hold your hand in public and not feel embarrassed. I was not yet a man, and I didn't pay much attention to you, I admit. Instead I kicked joyously at the leaves that lay in piles at the side of the path, and pointed out the squirrels preparing for winter in the park, and you gladly joined in with my trivial and inconsequential talk. I know you were trying to help me understand why father went away, that he had no choice, that he must accept his burden and fight in a far away place for us - for our country. I may not have listened with grave face or replied with brave acceptance like a true man should have, but I remembered your words, dear mother, and have lived by them always.

I have been fortunate, (yes, I know you laugh with bitter humour!), fortunate, to have been given the opportunity I have. It has made me the man I believe you wanted me to become - the man my father would have been proud to call his son! I have learnt more than a lifetime's worth of mundane everyday experience could ever have taught me, and all in just a few short years. I have become a leader of men, and those men I am proud to call my brothers. You remember the words drilled into me during my formative years? I used to repeat them like a mantra, not really understanding it until now - 'Youth must be led by youth!' I am twenty-three years old mother, a youth still, and yet I command fifty men, with the means in my hands to influence the destiny of nations! Think of what this experience means for my future, and the future of our family, our country! Now I understand. Now I see the meaning of those words.

Mother, I am returning home from sea for the last time. I will not be going back again. You will of course know this by the time I place this letter in your hands, but you will still be so happy to read these words! I have no doubt that for my brothers and I, the war is almost over. A year ago, I would have roared and raved against this eventuality, resisted with all my heart and done whatever I could to prevent it being so! Now, I am resigned to the fact, and, yes - even happy about it. My thoughts have now turned to keeping the boat safe and the crew alive long enough to make it through safely to the end. To do anything else would be a waste. I do not feel conquered. I do not feel bitter. In a few days - a week or two maybe, I will certainly hear the order to surface and come home. Indeed, I am happy, and my crew is happy too. I can hear the men singing now, a song of home and hopes reali...

Object #128-060945/0935Z

Located 52 03' 50" North, 005 44' 10" West by Royal Navy Minesweeper HMS Talbert on 6th September 1945.

Translation of partial letter (German), forming part of debris recovered from unknown Kriegsmarine U-boat, suspected sunk by mine defence line S23, southern Irish Sea.

Originator of letter unknown.

Admiralty Archive No. D/U897/S-Kg