12-19-1944, 2nd volume, no. 59, Page 4
12-19-1944, 2nd volume, no. 59, Page 5
12-19-1944, 2nd volume, no. 59, Page 6

cover / introduction table of contents

In Memoriam “Tirpitz”

From the Twentsch Nieuwsblad of 15-11-44:
“Tirpitz rendered inoperative.”
The German battleship Tirpitz, which was attacked by numerous heavy bombers in North Norway, has been disabled. The ship had previously repelled numerous attacks for two years, during which a large number of aircraft were shot down.
A significant portion of the crew was saved. – Tw. Nwsbl. 15/11

The Führer doesn‘t have much luck
With his war navy,
For he‘s losing it bit by bit,
With a very saddened expression

Once he lost the “Graf Spee”
In 1939,
Now it lies at the bottom of the sea,
I know of many more,

Which today lie on the bottom of the ocean
As old iron,
A colorful mix of names,
For today, these will do:

There lie the Admiral Scheer,
The Scharnhorst and the Blücher,
The Gneisenau and many more,
I almost believe with certainty

That every German torpedo boat
And every German cruiser
Has disappeared and stonedead
Are captain and stokers.

The Tirpitz was far and wide
The last one remaining,
Although she never toured again,
The Tirpitz much preferred

In this time, instead of open sea,
The bomb-protected harbor,
But behold, from airy heights
And clear sky,

The Tirpitz at last
Was struck by the wicked projectiles
And Adolf Hitler is dismayed,
He has now gotten rid of

The Tirpitz, like so many
Warships of the naval force,
She was brought down
Up there in the far north.

And Dönitz, the Grand Admiral,
Is almost weeping today,
For such a loss is quite fatal,
He is clear about it:

No cruiser and no battleship left,
That‘s not a fleet,
If someone talks about the war navy,
Then it seems as if he‘s mocking.

My rank as Grand Admiral
Is greatly exaggerated,
For the number of ships
Remaining today is tiny.

Five submarine and three more
Motor torpedo boats,
That‘s our remains, Britain‘s lion
Has a strong paw.

And our dream of power at sea
And dominance in the skies
Is dreamed out and is past,
Vanished like the scents of spring.

Post-Editing: Sylvia Stawski, Ernst Sittig