Captain Marinesko

Alexander Marinesko was actually born Alexandru Marinescu, to Rumanian parents who altered his name to make it appear more Russian. on 15 January, 1913, in the port city of Odessa. A temperamental and emotional young man, he suffered from nightmares, was easily bored, and sought solace in the bottle. He was from an early age beset by demons. But as was fitting for a man of Odessa a career at sea beckoned. Not in the Merchant Marine however, but in the Russian Navy. Little could he have known as a young man that he would grow into the most lethal and deadly submariner of all time.

He made steady progress through the ranks of the Russian Navy and was recognised as a talented officer though his career was often thwarted by a deep streak of irresponsibility. In 1939, he was posted to the Baltic Fleet and assigned command of the submarine M.96 then considered one of the best in the world. But he still wasn’t entirely trusted. The Authorities were aware of and distrusted his Rumanian background. So upon the outbreak of war with Germany in July, 1941, he was sent to serve in the Caspian Sea as a training officer. This bored him desperately and he was frequently drunk, and his lack of sobriety was to lead to his expulsion from the Communist Party.

At last, in the summer of 1942, he saw action.  His talent soon became apparent and he was brave to the point of recklessness. But he was also a braggart and a liar and often exaggerated his own exploits which brought him the enmity of many of his fellow officers. Even so, his success determined that he maintain command of his submarine, even if at one point he effectively deserted the service to live with a Swedish woman he had met at a drunken New Year’s Eve Party. His disregard for authority and total lack of discipline however, meant that he and his crew were considered expendable. So on 11 January, 1945, Captain Marinesko in command of submarine S.13 was dispatched to patrol the dangerous sea lanes off the Baltic peninsular. Here he remained patiently at his post for days on end but with little success. Frequently attacked by German torpedo boats and spotter planes he could not see the point of remaining there to no good purpose. Aware that the city of Memel had recently fallen and that the German army was now in full retreat and would be looking to evacuate its troops, in direct contravention of orders, he manoeuvred S.13 into a position he believed would be a likely point of interception.

On 12 January, the Red Army had broken through the German lines on the Eastern Front and the Wehrmacht had taken flight. By 26 January, Prussia had been effectively cut off from the rest of Germany and the only escape was by sea. In the port of Gotenhafen (Gdynia) more than 35,000 refugees and soldiers thronged the docks. In port were the Liners Hansa and Wilhelm Gustloff preparing to evacuate people as part of Operation Hannibal. So desparate were people to escape the clutches of the advancing Russian hordes that fist fights broke out to get aboard and order had to be restored by force.

The Wilhelm Gustloff was a luxury cruise ship constructed in 1937, as part of the Strength Through Joy programme to provide luxury holidays for workers. Though t was mostly used by Nazi Party dignitaries and their families. It was a sleek and beautiful vessel but had by now been stripped of all the trappings of grandeur. With a displacement of 25,000 tonnes and designed to carry 1800 passengers and crew, when she sailed out of Gotenhafen harbour at 12.30pm on 30 January, 1945, she was carrying more than 10,500 passengers, some 4,000 of whom were children.

It was a foul day, snow and rain was being whipped up by strong winds, the sea was rough, and the air cold. A short time after setting sail the Hansa and one of the two torpedo boats acting as escort were forced back to port with technical problems. The Wilhelm Gustloff was now virtually on her own with just one small torpedo boat  remaining to accompany her. On board were four experienced sea captains and a row now broke out as to the best way to proceed. Captain Wilhelm Zahn, Head of the U. Boat Division, suggested that they should douse the ships lights and plot a course hugging the coastline. The Gustloff’s Captain, Friedrich Petersen, instead decided to head for deep water where he expected to be met by a more powerful escort of Minesweepers. He would also keep the ships lights on to avoid the possibility of collison, something he evidently feared more in the poor visibility than he did the possibility of submarine attack.

Aboard the Gustloff an eerie atmosphere prevailed, every available space was taken, the aisles and passageways were jammed, and in some areas there was standing room only. People were being sick as the ship pitched and rolled in heavy seas, and mothers comforted their weeping children. An order had earlier been given that lifejackets should be kept on at all times but this just added to the general discomfort and many had been discarded. So as to maintain a level of calm the Captain had ordered that cheerful music be piped throughout the ship. At one point the music stopped for a speech from Adolf Hitler broadcast to celebrate the anniversary of his coming to power. Everyone stopped to listen, even the crew who had been busying themselves keeping the ship free from ice, some cursed, others took heart, but all were fearful of the hours to come.

Some time after 8.00pm on the night of the 30th, a crew member aboard the Russian submarine S.13  spotted a light far in the distance. He believed it to be the light from a nearby lighthouse but thought he should mention the sighting to the Captain anyway. Captain Marinesko, who was in his cabin completing that paperwork that always has to be done, was summoned to the conning tower. As he surveyed the scene the light started to become more distinct. Slowly but surely what was emerging from the mist was a ship, a huge ship, possibly an Ocean Liner, with its lights on! He could not believe his luck. Determined to make amends for his previous indiscretions he was determined to get this right. He stalked the Gustloff for hours, approaching it from the shoreline so as to get a better shot. This was a dangerous manoeuvre for he knew this area to be heavily mined and riddled with treacherous sandbanks. He skilfully managed to manoeuvre his submarine through depths sometimes as little as 30 metres and at one point only 9 fathoms. It was a courageous act on his part, but then no one had ever doubted his courage.

Approaching to within 1000 yards of his prey, nearing the witching hour of a bitterly cold night, he released three torpedoes with the words, ” For the Motherland and for the Soviet people.” On board the Gustloff, Captain Petersen was relaxing in his cabin confident that the most dangerous part of the journey had passed, when the first torpedo hit. Survivors described it as like being struck by a meteor. The whole ship shook. Petersen was stunned. Making his way to the bridge he was heard to mutter the words time and time again, “This is it, this is it.” There was little time to survey the damage. In order to keep the ship afloat he ordered that the watertight doors be closed trapping thousands of people, including many experienced sailors, below decks, sealing their doom. Another torpedo then hit the quarters of the Womens’ Naval Auxillary incinerating those inside with only 3 of the 374 women surviving. At this moment the electricity failed plunging the ship into darkness. As the third torpedo hits the engine room the Gustloff begins to list heavily to port. She is doomed. Panic now ensues and hundreds are trampled to death in the rush to get on deck. Gunshots are heard over the cries and screams of the terrified passengers as the crew try to retain some semblance of order, but to no avail. Many of the military personnel on board commit suicide. Crewmen struggle to release the lifeboats as they are frozen to the davits. It was normal procedure for these to be swung out in preparation for hasty release before sailing. But Petersen had not done this because he did not want to induce fear amongst the passengers. Now they could not be released in time. The ship was sinking fast. Lifejackets that had earlier been discarded were now being fought over. Those provided for the children were found to be too big and they merely tipped the children over in the water, and survivors told of the sight of hundreds of legs sticking out of the sea. Survival in the ice-cold Baltic Sea was limited in any case. For those struggling below decks it was already too late. Unable to find their way out in the darkness they were drowned in the frozen water now flooding the ship. Less than an hour after being hit by the first torpedo the Wilhelm Gustloff plunged to the bottom taking thousands of lives with her.

A frantic rescue operation was by now underway. The message had gone out for all German shipping in the area to rush to the scene. One of the first ships to arrive was the warship Admiral Hipper and it had the capacity to take on board all the survivors but fearing further torpedo attacks she fled without doing so causing great resentment amongst those still struggling for their lives. Many of those dragged out of the water were already dead, and there were so many nets were used for the purpose. Of the survivors most, it was to transpire, were military personnel. Most of the victims civilians. It would appear that the policy of women and children first did not apply on the Wilhelm Gustloff. Both Captain’s Petersen and Zahn, as did the other two captains aboard, survived. The most recent research suggests that 9,400 people were either drowned or burned to death on the Wilhelm Gustloff, 1,250 were plucked from the sea alive. It was the greatest maritime disaster in history.

It would seem that Captain Marinesko was at first unaware of the scale of his achievement, but just over a week later he confirmed his reputation as the worlds most deadly submariner when he took great risks to torpedo and sink the unmarked hospital ship, Steuben. With more than 5,000 wounded German soldiers on board it sank in short time, taking 3,000 with it.

For his achievements Marinesko expected to be honoured with the title of Hero of the Soviet Union. But his past reputation went before him, and he had made a great many enemies, so instead he was to be awarded with the Order of the Red Banner. Disgusted Marinesko, when his superiors arrived to award him his medal, submerged his submarine so he would be unable to receive it.

Upon the conclusion of the war Marinesko’s life unravelled. By now a hopeless drunk, the alcohol had taken a severe mental and physical toll. In September, 1945, he was demoted and by November of the same year he had been discharged from the Navy altogether. Plunged into poverty his life fell apart. In 1949, he was jailed for 2 years for theft. Broken and forgotten, he finally died on 25 November, 1963, aged just 50, of a burst ulcer.

In May, 1990, he at last received the recognition his many supporters had longed campaigned for, he was awarded the title Hero of the Soviet Union, the very award he so firmly believed his exploits had merited. and statues now stand in his honour in his home town of Odessa and the port city of Kaliningrad.

Many consider what Alexander Marinesko did that freezing January night to be a war crime; but he could not have known that the Gustloff had been primarily a refugee ship. Had he had known would it have made any difference to his decision to launch those torpedoes? I doubt it. Such things are lost in the fog of war, and despite the many civilians on board there were also a great many experienced and specialist military personnel. Alexander Marinesko merely did his duty that night, and he did so bravely, with ingenuity and daring. But it was a moment of extreme horror in an often desperate life.

France

How far is Canada from France? 7,000 miles, 5000, miles or 10,000 miles?

Well none of the above is correct. France and Canada are in fact only 17 miles apart, and that’s official. A mere 17 miles south of Newfoundland lie a group of islands collectively known as St Pierre et Miquelon, and they don’t just belong to France, they are France.

The French first got there centuries ago, and since then there has been a bit of a chequered history with tempers flaring between France, USA, Britain and Canada. When the dust settled these little dots in the ocean were flying the French flag as they do to this day.

Although Canada is next door, the inhabitants of St Pierre et Miquelon send a deputy not to Ottawa, but to the Assemblée Nationale (Parliament) in Paris, and one to the French upper house. Letters to and from the islands from mainland France are treated as domestic mail, and charged at the domestic rate. The currency of France, the Euro, is the currency of the islands and the Head of State is Nicholas Sarkozy, the President of France.

During the 1930s the islands became important in the liquor smuggling trade to the USA with the advent of prohibition, but it was the rich fishing stocks in the area that the economy has always relied on. In these days of reduced fish numbers the French government are trying to diversify, particularly into tourism.

And St Pierre et Miquelon aren’t France’s only contribution to the fascinating world of geopolitical farce. French Guyana in South America is not really a country; it is a départment of France, again sending elected representatives to Paris. Like the islands it uses French currency, and enjoys Nicholas Sarkozy as Head of State, and in several referendums the people have overwhelmingly voted to stay with France. The Caribbean islands of Martinique and Guadeloupe fall into the same category.

Azerbaijan

Poor little Azerbaijan. Not many can find it on the map, not many can spell its name correctly, and not many care. Part of the USSR for decades, it emerged as a nation state on the 1990s only to be plunged into bloody battles along ethnic lines. A large Armenian population wasn’t so happy, and Armenia drives a physical wedge through the small nation cutting off an even smaller exclave called Nakchivan from the main territory.

But Azerbaijan has oil, so some have learnt how to spell its name, some have sought it out on the map, but few still care about it apart from the petrodollars that can be earned from it. A pipeline links the oil reserves in deep water fields in the Caspian Sea to the Turkish Mediterranean port of Ceyhan, giving the West access to huge quantities of oil and gas. Russia’s not best pleased.

Nakchivan, although an integral entity of Azerbaijan, has an autonomous government, but remains geographically isolated from the rest of the country and more or less from the rest of the world.

Cabinda

The southern African country of Angola throws up our next strange border arrangement. On the Atlantic coast and to the north of the country, the province of Cabinda has become estranged from the mother ship, with a finger of the Democratic Republic of Congo (Congo Kinshasa or Zaire to those of a certain age) insinuating itself towards the sea.

The other Congo (Brazzaville) lies to the north, and there seems to be a continued struggle by those who live in the province to achieve independence. Attempts to declare the Republic of Cabinda have met with failure but you can’t fault people for trying.

Lesotho

We stay in southern Africa for this next peculiarity as we focus in on the world’s only sovereign state to be completely surrounded by one other state, namely South Africa. But how much sovereignty or independence can a country have when it finds itself having to tow the line to guarantee trade links with the outside world?

Another of Lesotho’s claims to fame is that it is the only independent state to lie more than 1000 metres above sea level in its entirety, and there can be sufficient snow on the higher mountains to attract skiers from South Africa!

The political history is a mess of coups and intrigues and the Kingdom is now described as a constitutional monarchy with a king as figurehead.

Kaliningrad

And so to northern Europe. Kaliningrad is an integral part of Russia, cut off from the huge bulk of the rest of the country by Poland and Lithuania. Russia was (is) especially keen to hold onto this little bit of land because it offers a port on the Baltic, indeed the only port on the Baltic that remains ice-free all year round, a handy place to park your fleet of war ships.

Things went Moscow’s way without a hitch when it controlled the Baltic states, but with the break-up of the USSR Kaliningrad became isolated. Now travellers, civilian and military, have to pass through NATO territory if they wish to get from Kaliningrad to the rest of Russia by land, and special travel arrangements have to be made for locals.

It used to be a Prussian town, did Kaliningrad, and there are moves to restore its pre-Soviet name of Kőnigsberg. One of its claims to fame is that Immanuel Kant was born there, though pure reason would suggest that there might be more to the city than that. It was hoped that Kaliningrad would become the “Hong Kong of the Baltic” for Russia, but crime and corruption have deterred trade and investment so it remains very much a dark, isolated oblast some 200 miles from Russia proper.

Others???

Well there are others a-plenty. Spain enjoys sovereign sway over the cities of Ceuta and Melilla which sit on Moroccan soil, and Britain owns Gibraltar in Spain, but perhaps the strangest of all this geopolitical nonsense is the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. Why would one island own half of a neighbouring island as well? Why would people as sane and sensible as the British want to govern the Irish? Why indeed?