Introducing Kapitan Fat Elvis, Submaritime Hero of the Reich!

Captain of the now infamous U-108, this page will be dedicated to follow his heroic underwater exploits.

Unfortunately we're having a few problems with his enigma encrypted messages but will post up information here as and when it arrives.

Today's report is three days late due to me being captured by the Germans off Calais and not realising it was just a game until three days later when my computer crashed. However during the time that I thought it was real some really big stuff happened and most of it in the English Channel not far from where London Europe is. In case you are not a none Canadian North American "lets let everyone else fight the really big wars for the first half and then when our allies have had to sell off all our assets really cheap we can join in, take all the credit and make all the films about it and slag off our allies in the films as well." "Monty is overrated"says Ted Danson in Saving Private Ryan! Where would the Normandy landings be if North Africa and therefore the middle east and the Allied oil supply had been taken by the Nazi's? Not to mention if the Nazi's had successfully invaded Britain. Anyway I better get on it looks like the salt water and the digital coshing I got off some U-boot boys has taken it's toll on me in a most unsavoury bitter and twisted way.

The truth of the matter is that Me, Kapitain Fat Elvis, apparent Flugel Admiral of the GD was in a protracted engagement with Dr Jeep and Edpow. Me and Jeep were in ya boo hiss American Destroyers as they were apparently the only allied destroyers taking part in WW2 post and pre Pearl Harbour. Unfortunately after one or two failed attempts to get the bally thing to launch, due to the tubs being as fragile as a elephant tiptoeing on a pain of glass resting across two piles of Ferro Rochet pyramids (you know those round things on the telly that you eat at Ambassadors parties), Jeep was called away for active duty to the Austrian Tyrol (no doubt you can correct the spelling Jeep) where he was needed as a member of the Waffen SS Kitchen Hit Squad and was therefore unable to take his place on my starboard foremast as second Destroyer DD Lollipop.

So It was left to me and Ed to both defeat and attack over a thousand years of culture, heritage, misnomers, national stereotypes, each other and our own cathode ray infused digitally encrusted, salt eroded excuses for fighting aquatic perambulators (is that the right word? or do I mean omnibus?) sea dog.

If I remember correctly, which is doubtful as most of you who know me will agree, with... erm.. oh well never mind. Me and Ed being the only two combatants we deicide to take sides opposing to each other, "there was no alternative?" I guess you may ask? "yes there is" I say. I have it on good authority that Ed regularly patrols the straights of Gibraltar of an evening, where he has spent many hours torpedoing dangerously imaginative enemy craft. Ed has become so good at this that he can now... well I cant say as it will give the result of our fight/battle/pivotal point in the history of naval warfare, away.

So I was in a destroyer protecting the shores of Blighty from the ravages of the Kreigsmarine represented by Edpow in a type X something or other and me in my Lease lend "why don't you take the shirt of my back while I defend your country for you" Destroyer which is still flying the US flag even though it is only the summer of 1942!

I did everything right! I turned, I spent ages in the sonar room pinging and listen to the sound of extended underwater wind noises, I watched my state of the art radar screen I even stood on deck taking the air and looking through my bins for the smallest of needle like periscopes in a blue haystack. Nothing! Could I find him? No! I couldn't, not a trace, or a whisper of a pingette, or anything.

And then he sent a radio message home asking what time Popstars are on and whether his supper was ready and bish bash bosh I was on to him. He was fifteen or so nautical miles (hereafter referred to as 'naums' to the south east of me. But I had know idea which way he was going and as I got no more information pertaining to his position I quickly new less and less about where he really was.

Fortunately I guessed right, knowing that he had to go west so he could cowardly sink unarmed cargo ships trying to supply the needs of the morally superior, I decided to drive/sail/whatever by canoe/ship/boat/dinghy on a tangent where by if he kept going in the direction I though he was going, we would after a while arrive at a point where we may or may not be quite close to each other and at such a point may catch on to him when he next flushed the head/crapper/toilet or shouted out on the tanoy to his men which one of the Poptarts for that week had been voted off.

He was having none of it, he must have read the manual because I never heard a thing. Until that is he was really really close, say from here to the newsagents close. In retrospect I suppose he must have been watching me for ages through his periscope. Considering this I think I did rather well. For a while. I headed right for him switching frantically my views between the main command deck and the depth charge room. I may or may not have let off a couple of torps just to try and scare him under water, but I can't remember. But I am pretty sure that I failed to sail over his position on my first run and so was unable to drop depth charges. Again I am not sure how it happened but after pulling the handbrake and getting my back end/stern to slide round (an old Sandhurst trick) I found my self catching up with Ed from abaft of his stern. I went to 'full steam a head' or 'flank' or 'razz the arse off it' and got right over the top of him. Just as I was about to drop the first of the depth charges I was put off, and I blame Ed for this, by my ramming Ed's sub as I sailed right over the top of him, he wasn't deep enough! Ed that was your fault!

I then let off all the charges I had, we even sent three of the most violet chefs over armed with ships biscuits and a ripe plum pudding. But Nothing! No oil on the water no screams trapped in bubbles rising to the surface form the water U-boot grave of the heartless cowards, the Ed Kreigsmarine! I told the man at the helm to kick the rudder hard to starboard and the ship skidded clockwise as it spiralled in a dizzy quick of adrenalin and diesel, if I could turn quick enough I could dodge any torps and let off a few more depth charges and maybe even get him with some of my own torps.

But alas this is where the story becomes bitter and twisted and sad and unjust and downright unfair. This was the point where I found my self at the wrong end of one of the Kriegsmarine none dud torps. There was a thunderous crackling boom! I think I must have been hit close to the magazine, that or the fireworks we were saving up for Bonfire Night got it right on the chin. Well there is no way of dressing this up in anything but the truth. Ed got me! My ship sank, I have the photos if you'd like to see them, I don't want to talk about it anymore. If you have any questions ask Ed, but remember the victors version always ends up as history so don't believe a word he says.

It is now 2 sinkings to Ed too my O sinkings, the battle continues, next time I want to be a Sub and fight for a justice of a more Saxon/Teutonic nature.