With the bright morning sun glittering across the unusually calm Baltic Sea, Lieutenant Spindler made his way to the bridge of the guard ship. Positive he was in trouble for some infraction, and racking his brain to figure out what that might be so he could prepare an excuse, the German sailor was pleasantly surprised when the captain read out his new orders. Because he could speak some English and had experience sailing the Atlantic, he was being offered his own command. This was no warship; that was an impossible dream for a junior officer on a vessel classified only a little higher than a fishing trawler with a canon stuck on the bow. He was now the commander of a small merchant ship called the SS Castro.
SS CastroOrdered to select another officer and a dozen men who could speak some E
