Island of Saints by Andy Andrews Read Free Book Online

expression faded as he ran a hand through his thick black hair. “Yes, it has happened enough times that they expect it now. But it will not happen on this boat. War is one thing. Murder is quite another.”
    Each man paused briefly, contemplating that distinct difference, until Landermann broke the silence. Leaning toward the commander, he whispered conspiratorially, “So . . . what now . . . into the Gulf of Mexico?”
    Kuhlmann furrowed his brow. “Of course,” he replied and, holding up a finger, added, “but not a word. Remember, you are not supposed to know.”
    Indeed he was not. The mission of the U-166, including its destination, was a secret to be held only by the submarine’s commander and its official, onboard Nazi Party observer, a man named Ernst Schneider. But there was another secret on this submarine, one that, had the German High Command known, would have meant certain redeployment, perhaps even discipline for Kuhlmann and Landermann. The commander and his under-lieutenant had been best friends for years.
    It was a situation never tolerated by the Nazi military machine, whose entire structure was based on loyalty to the Führer and mistrust of everyone else. It was dangerous to the well-being of the High Command for two men to trust each other. Before long, it was assumed, these men would begin to confide in each other and question orders—maybe even the philosophy behind those orders.
    Control was ensured by means of informants carefully placed at the grassroots level throughout the military. For all appearances, they were ordinary soldiers or sailors and existed in addition to official informers—the Nazi Party observers who were placed on each U-boat and ship. These men were specifically charged to ferret out troops disloyal to the party ideal. It quickly became apparent to the High Command that it was not even necessary to place these informers with every company as long as the fighting men did not know each other well. The threat of who might be an informer was enough.
    Josef Bartels Landermann was twenty-six. Two years younger than Kuhlmann, he was also from Cologne. The two men had been fast friends since before they were teenagers. They had grown up in the same neighborhood, gone to the same schools, and been in each other’s weddings. It was only as adults that their paths diverged.
    While Hans Kuhlmann intended the military as a career from the time he left high school, Josef Landermann continued his formal education on full scholarship to Oxford, in England. Intending to become a teacher, he was a student of world history, but had a gift for languages that left his professors dumbfounded. His ear for sound and nuance made Josef a popular student, for he was able to mimic any voice, any inflection, almost without exception.
    Having heard a particular professor’s stiff British accent every day for some time, Josef once stood up before the man arrived, walked to his desk, and impersonated him perfectly for a full minute, including the man’s mannerisms and walk. Moments later, after Josef’s impromptu performance had ended, the professor himself entered the classroom and began his usual routine . . . only this time to uproarious laughter.
    Returning from Oxford, Josef married Tatiana, his high school sweetheart, and a year later, they were blessed with a child. A daughter, they named her Rosa, after Josef’s mother, who along with his father had died while Josef was in college. He doted on the child and his wife, buying them every extravagance a teacher could afford. His life was perfect.
    But the war changed everything. Josef had been teaching for two years when he was called up for military duty. Tatiana cried endlessly. Reports had been filtering in for some time about the numbers of men who were giving their lives in service of the Führer, and Tatiana was convinced that Josef would never return to them.
    He had only three days to