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[The following is from Otto Giese’s memoir Shooting the War: The Memoir and Photographs of a U-boat Officer in World War II.]

Our poor “Doc” Buchholz had little hair left on his scalp, and to keep what he had and perhaps grow more, he used a tonic known in the German navy as Trylisin. The bottle stood quite prominent in his open locker. In a moment of recklessness, one of the crew suggested that some ingredients be added to it while Doc was busy at the radar station. This we did, enriching the potion with liquor, sugar, and glue. At night, when all of us watch-free officers rested in our bunks, Doc would attend to the remarkable work of massaging his shiny scalp with his fingers. That night everyone watched from behind their curtains, hardly able to restrain their laughter when he poured the sticky liquid into his hands and started rubbing it over his scalp. The grimaces he gave the mirror when he combed his few remaining hairs and watched them depart with the comb! We asked him why Trylisin had so many sediments in it; he explained that the chemical formula was such and such, and that naturally here in the tropics the alcohol would evaporate… poor Doc.

But, in need of a scapegoat, we were not quite through with Doc. Another plan was shaped one night during an officer’s meeting. We ground some carbon pills to a very fine powder and poured it into his heavy U-boat boots. Although he wore socks, his feet soon turned black. The carbon was not easily removed, not even with soap and a brush. What a painful situation for the ship’s doctor, known as the neatest man on board, to have to wait each night until his fellow officers were asleep to start scrubbing his shamefully dirty feet. Only when we told him of our experience with Bordelaise powder, which stained our feet gray, did he catch on.

It wasn’t long before he got even. Within days our toothpaste had acquired the bitter taste of quinine, and when we urinated the stream was either red or green. Not knowing the cause, we mentioned this discreetly to Doc, who told us the most horrible things about kidney and bladder trouble. We were in shock until he confessed to his revenge.


Source:

Giese, Otto, and James E. Wise. “On Patrol in the Indian Ocean.” Shooting the War: The Memoir and Photographs of a U-Boat Officer in World War II. Naval Institute, 2003. 184. Print.


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[**The following is from Otto Giese’s memoir *Shooting the War: The Memoir and Photographs of a U-boat Officer in World War II*.**] >Our poor “Doc” Buchholz had little hair left on his scalp, and to keep what he had and perhaps grow more, he used a tonic known in the German navy as Trylisin. The bottle stood quite prominent in his open locker. In a moment of recklessness, one of the crew suggested that some ingredients be added to it while Doc was busy at the radar station. This we did, enriching the potion with liquor, sugar, and glue. At night, when all of us watch-free officers rested in our bunks, Doc would attend to the remarkable work of massaging his shiny scalp with his fingers. That night everyone watched from behind their curtains, hardly able to restrain their laughter when he poured the sticky liquid into his hands and started rubbing it over his scalp. The grimaces he gave the mirror when he combed his few remaining hairs and watched them depart with the comb! We asked him why Trylisin had so many sediments in it; he explained that the chemical formula was such and such, and that naturally here in the tropics the alcohol would evaporate… poor Doc. >But, in need of a scapegoat, we were not quite through with Doc. Another plan was shaped one night during an officer’s meeting. We ground some carbon pills to a very fine powder and poured it into his heavy U-boat boots. Although he wore socks, his feet soon turned black. The carbon was not easily removed, not even with soap and a brush. What a painful situation for the ship’s doctor, known as the neatest man on board, to have to wait each night until his fellow officers were asleep to start scrubbing his shamefully dirty feet. Only when we told him of our experience with Bordelaise powder, which stained our feet gray, did he catch on. >It wasn’t long before he got even. Within days our toothpaste had acquired the bitter taste of quinine, and when we urinated the stream was either red or green. Not knowing the cause, we mentioned this discreetly to Doc, who told us the most horrible things about kidney and bladder trouble. We were in shock until he confessed to his revenge. _________________________ **Source:** Giese, Otto, and James E. Wise. “On Patrol in the Indian Ocean.” *Shooting the War: The Memoir and Photographs of a U-Boat Officer in World War II*. Naval Institute, 2003. 184. Print. ___________________________ **If you enjoy this type of content, please consider donating to my [Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/HistoryLockeBox)!**

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