Cold Open

It’s September 12th, 1942, and the RMS Laconia, a British ocean liner, is making its way up the Atlantic coast of Africa. Fourteen-year-old Josephine Frame sits in her family’s cabin, upset. Her parents have gone dancing, but she is been told to remain behind to watch her little brother Alex. Jo is bored to tears. Their trip from South Africa to England has already felt like a lifetime. And the one chance she gets to experience something exciting—beautiful dresses, music, and dancing, and she is forced to babysit in a cramped cabin. She’s half made up her mind to leave her brother on his own and head to the ballroom… when Jo is knocked off her feet.

The entire ship rattles and shudders. Before she can make sense of what has happened... another explosion rocks the cabin. The sound is deafening. And Jo’s ears ring. She jumps to her brother’s side and holds him tightly.

Only moments later, the cabin door bursts open, and Jo’s father, still dressed for the ballroom, is in a panic. He orders Jo and her brother to put their life jackets on over their pajamas and come with him.

Her right hand gripped tight in her father’s, and her left hand holding her brother, Jo rushes out of the cabin. She can feel the ship listing to the right, the hallway ahead tilting like a funhouse. A frightened crowd streams to the deck and begins lining up to board lifeboats. With shaking arms, Jo’s father lifts her and her brother up and over the gunwale. Jo’s mother, already in the boat, snatches them close and holds them tight. But Jo’s father doesn’t climb in. He and many of the other men stay behind as the lifeboat begins to lower, only to jerk to a stop as another mother or child begs to be let on.

All around is chaos. As their raft lowers, the lifeboat next to Jo accidentally tips, causing a woman to drop her baby into the sea. Her screams are inhuman, a terrible sound Jo feels in her spine.

By the time Jo’s boat touches water, there are some sixty people aboard, twice the intended capacity, with even more in the sea, clinging to the sides. All around them, bodies float and bob. Jo shuts her eyes, but she can still hear the screams and wails all around her. And then… another explosion, but this time from the ship’s hissing boilers as they fill with seawater.

Jo’s eyes blink open and she sees the ship’s stern heave out of the water. Steam and oil geyser from tears in the hull, until the whole ship slips under the surface.

The RMS Laconia is a victim of a U-boat attack, struck by two German torpedoes. As Jo and hundreds of others struggle to survive in the churning waters, the U-boat’s captain will make two decisions—one to rescue as many lives as he can, and a second, to issue a cry for help that ultimately dooms far more to a watery end than just those aboard when the Laconia sank on September 12th, 1942.

Introduction

From Noiser and Airship, I’m Lindsay Graham and this is History Daily.

History is made every day. On this podcast—every day—we tell the true stories of the people and events that shaped our world.

Today is September 12th, 1942: The Sinking of the Laconia.

Act One: The Captain

It’s September 12th, 1942, aboard German U-boat 156 Plauen, and Captain Werner Hartenstein is on the hunt. Tonight, Captain Hartenstein’s U-boat is patrolling the Atlantic, 900 miles south of Freetown, Sierra Leone. He keeps the vessel under the surface of the water, silently stalking a shipping lane for his next prey. Admiral Karl Donitz, the supreme commander of the German Navy's U-boat fleet, has given Captain Hartenstein his orders - sink any ships carrying troops or armaments heading to Great Britain. Germany fears a military build-up in England could enable the Allies to invade German-occupied Europe. So on Admiral Donitz’s orders, Hartenstein picks off Allied ships one by one. Already, he’s sunk over 20, and significantly damaged an American warship - the USS Blakeley. In all, he has sunk almost 100,000 tons of Allied weapons and material. Just one more tally mark and Hartenstein knows he might receive the Ritterkreuz, or Knight’s Cross, the highest German military honor.

Then, just after sunset, one of Hartenstein’s lookouts notices a plume of smoke on the horizon. The Captain orders battle stations and sets a course toward the unsuspecting target, the RMS Laconia.

The Laconia was once a luxury liner which catered to Britain’s elite. Built in 1921 as part of the same fleet as the infamous ships Titanic and Lusitania, the Laconia is now in the sunset of her life on the sea. At the start of the war, the vessel was commandeered by the British Navy as a troop vessel. Fitted with defensive guns, it has since been ferrying British troops to the fight in Northern Africa. Now returning from its most recent voyage to Egypt, the Laconia makes a long voyage around Africa. With rumors of U-boats in the area, the captain of Laconia steers her on a zig-zag course, hoping to evade attack because on this trip, the Laconia is not just carrying troops, but hundreds of Italian prisoners of war, and just as many civilians. But tragically, the crew has failed to properly mark the ship to indicate it carries women, children, and POWs.

So as U-156 gets into visual range and Captain Hartenstein peers through his periscope, he can clearly see the Laconia’s gun mountings and the ship’s zig-zag maneuvers. It must be a British Navy vessel. And once he stealthily gets his U-boat into range, the Captain gives the order to fire. Two torpedoes glide through the water and strike their target in horrible explosions Captain Hartenstein can feel from thousands of yards away. The Laconia lurches, shakes, and begins sinking fast. Eager to tally the cargo of the ship before it sinks, Hartenstein orders his U-boat to the surface. He climbs the ladder and opens the hatch. But when the Captain lays his eyes on the wreckage, he is horrified. 

Floating among burning debris are two thousand survivors. Some are crammed tightly into lifeboats, while others scream for help as they try to keep their heads above water. Captain Hartenstein’s heart drops when he realizes that many are civilians, and some are women and children. He would never have fired on the ship if he had known.

But the situation only gets worse when Captain Hartenstein discovers that the Laconia was also transporting almost eighteen hundred Italian prisoners of war, allies of Germany, many went down with the ship. But those who did manage to make it to the surface now cry out for rescue and attempt to board the lifeboats—but British survivors push them back into the sea. They fear the Italians will capsize their boat, or worse, take it over. So as the Italians scramble to get a hold of the gunwales of the boats, British passengers hack at their hands with axes. Blood fills the water, and sharks arrive, hungry and expectant. Captain Hartenstein knows he must act.

He orders his men to pull as many survivors from the water as they can. The German crew gathers additional lifeboats from the wreckage of the Laconia and then fills them with as many people as they can haul up from the sea. Simultaneously. Captain Hartenstein sends a message to U-boat command informing them of the dire situation.

Because of the large number of Italian POWs among the survivors, German Admiral Donitz immediately orders three other U‑boats to join the rescue effort. By daybreak on September 13th, Captain Hartenstein’s crew have pulled more than 190 survivors from the water. They crowd the top of his U-boat. In tow, four lifeboats hold another 200 men, women, and children. But there are even more still in the water.

Overwhelmed by the sheer number of survivors, Captain Hartenstein will make a fateful decision to broadcast an urgent plea to anyone who might receive his message, Axis or Ally. He will pledge not to attack any ship that arrives to assist the Laconia survivors, but he will not get the same guarantee in return.

Act Two: The Hero

It’s September 16th, 1942, and Captain Hartenstein peers over the water for some sign of relief for the survivors and his crew. It's been four long days since he made the tragic mistake of torpedoing the Laconia. Now he leads a convoy of German subs slowly ferrying a small fleet of lifeboats toward rescue. They have managed to save some 1000 passengers, and the humbled Captain has done his best to try and earn their forgiveness and care for their needs. But his efforts have not been without loss. The night after the Laconia sank, waves capsized one of the rafts, losing several passengers to the depths. And with each loss of life, Captain Hartenstein can’t help but feel responsible.

Many of the survivors feel the same, and at first, they did not trust the German Captain, insisting that they try to make the 900-mile journey to Freeport on their own. But Captain Hartenstein convinced them that such a trip would be suicide, and with great kindness and respect proved to them that they were all safer in his care. He brought the sick and injured aboard his U-boat for treatment. The crew shared their cigarettes with the survivors, and took special care with the women and children, ensuring they had plenty of food, drink, and medicine. Captain Hartenstein could not have been more hospitable, even in peacetime. But he doesn’t know how much longer he can feed and care for so many. So as the 1000 survivors bake in the sun, Captain Hartenstein desperately hopes that someone has heard the distress call he'd broadcast, and watches anxiously, scanning the horizon for signs of relief.

But across the vastness of the ocean, there is nothing—until a small speck appears in the sky. A plane approaches, and soon Captain Hartenstein is able to identify it as an American B-24D Liberator.

The British, French, and Americans all heard Captain Hartenstein’s call for help. But British forces in Freetown thought it must be a trap, and did not send assistance. French authorities of the German-allied Vichy government also heard the message. Though they had ordered two French warships to assist, they were far off and have not yet arrived. The Americans sent out an aircraft.

And as it approaches, Captain Hartenstein urgently orders his crew to unfurl a Red Cross flag atop the U‑boat’s bridge, hoping the bomber will see that they are on a rescue mission. He tries to communicate with the crew of the Liberator by Morse code but is unsuccessful. The bomber flies past the convoy and fades away, as does the Captain’s hope for assistance.

But aboard that B‑24 bomber, the crew is composed entirely of new recruits. They radio the nearest allied base to ask for orders of how to proceed with what they’ve seen and they receive back just two words, “Sink sub.”

Captain Hartenstein sees the plane turn in the distance, and wonders if he has gotten their attention. But then he sees the bomb bay doors open. Before he can properly react, three bombs drop from the plane. The ocean explodes all around the convoy, barely missing their targets. Captain Hartenstein knows he must order his U-boats to dive, but he can’t drag the lifeboats down with him. As the plane makes a wide turn to come around for a second run, Captain Hartenstein orders his crew to cut the lifeboats free. He then shouts for the survivors atop the U-boat’s decks to put on their life jackets and jump into the sea. Some survivors, like fourteen-year-old Josephine Frame, are hurried below deck before the hatch is sealed and the sub goes into a steep dive. The other U-boats scatter and dive, too—but Captain Hartenstein is not fast enough. Two more bombs fall, one striking his U-boat’s control room. Smoke billows from the sub as it vanishes beneath the ocean, leaving the lifeboats adrift.

When German Admiral Donitz hears the news of the attack on Hartenstein’s sub, he smolders with fury. He orders Hartenstein and the others to resurface as soon as they are able and unload all survivors who are not Italian prisoners of war. That order is soon followed, and to Captain Hartenstein’s dismay, the rescue effort is abandoned, and the British survivors are left to drift at sea. The following day, on September 17th, 1942, Admiral Donitz issues a second, more consequential command: there will be no rescue of any future survivors of ships sunk by the German Navy. Soon known as the “Laconia Order,” this directive will be responsible for countless deaths throughout the rest of the war, ensuring that even after the survivors are rescued, the sinking of the Laconia will continue to cost lives.

Act Three: The Honored

It’s Tuesday, September 12th, 2017 in the town of Plauen, Germany, and with her granddaughter’s help, 89-year-old Josephine Frame, now known as Josephine Pratchett slowly makes her way to St. Paul’s Church. Though she is exhausted from her flight from England, she is determined not to be late for the ceremony. As one of the last living survivors of the Laconia incident, Jo is here to pay her respects at the unveiling of a plaque, made in honor of one of the church’s former members, Captain Werner Hartenstein—to whom Jo owes her life. 

Many years ago, Jo and some of the other survivors from the Laconia met in Plauen to celebrate Captain Hartenstein’s kindness. Sadly, it was the only way they could give him their thanks, as Captain Hartenstein did not survive the war. He died on March 8th, 1943, when a U.S. Navy seaplane dropped a depth-charged and sank U-boat 156. Many years later, in 2002, Jo and others created a charity in his honor, named the International Submarine Connection U 156 Plauen, or ISCP. And ever since on September 12th, ISCP members made a visit to Plauen—the German town which lent its name to Captain Hartenstein’s U-boat. Now, on the 75th Anniversary of the sinking of the Laconia, a plaque is being dedicated to honor the memory of the Captain who saved so many lives.

Jo is welcomed by Captain Hartenstein’s nephew, as well as the families of other survivors whom she has gotten to know over the years. Jo’s granddaughter is amazed at how many families there are—and then suddenly realizes that there would be none if it weren’t for Captain Hartenstein.

When they unveil the plaque, commissioned by the British survivors of the Laconia, it brings tears to Jo’s eyes. The inscription reads, “Dedicated to the memory of Captain Werner Hartenstein…whose bravery and humanity in time of war saved the lives of more than 1,000 people after the sinking of the troop ship ‘Laconia’ on the 12th of September, 1942.”

Outro

Next on History Daily. September 13th, 1987 after a canister containing radioactive material is stolen from an abandoned hospital in Brazil, four people die.

From Noiser and Airship, this is History Daily, hosted, edited, and executive produced by me, Lindsay Graham.

Audio editing by Muhammad Shahzaib.

Sound design by Mischa Stanton.

Music by Lindsay Graham.

This episode is written and researched by Erik Archilla.

Executive Producers are Alexandra Currie-Buckner for Airship, and Pascal Hughes for Noiser.