I toured the only remaining German submarine captured by the US during World War II. Take a look inside.

General admission to the museum costs $25.95. Veterans and active military service members can submit an online entry form for free admission.

Tickets for the U-505 tour cost an additional $18 for adults and $14 for children, with a $4 discount for active military and veterans.

Thankfully, I booked my tickets online — other visitors who hadn't secured tickets in advance were unable to see the exhibit because it was fully booked.

I started my visit to the exhibit by watching footage and reading newspaper clippings to learn some of the historical context. Immersive video experiences then detailed the events leading to the capture of U-505.

Then, it was time to enter the submarine.

The U-boat — short for unterseeboot or "undersea boat" — is divided into three sections: the stern (rear), the amidships (middle), and the bow (front).

Inside, the floors were crafted from steel, while the top deck was made of pinewood treated with carbolineum, or wood tar, to preserve it and provide black camouflage. This made the sub harder to spot from the air at shallow depths.

The conning tower, per the Museum of Science and Industry, is a "small yet heavily armored horizontal hull" that sits atop the submarine above its control room.

It is equipped with three guns, which, when it surfaced, helped protect it from attacks by Allied aircraft.

The 2-centimeter guns were smaller, rapid-fire weapons designed for close-range defense, capable of shooting 240 rounds per minute.

The 3.7-centimeter automatic cannon fired fewer rounds — 50 per minute — but was more destructive per shot, making it more effective against tougher targets, such as low-flying aircraft or smaller ships.

On the day of its capture, the U-505 found itself surrounded by US forces, encircled at sea and shadowed from above.

Three US destroyer escorts launched a series of shots while fighter planes released rounds from their .50-caliber machine guns.

Under Captain Daniel Gallery's command, only antipersonnel ammunition — designed to incapacitate the crew without causing severe structural damage — was deployed.

This decision ensured the submarine's hull remained largely intact for potential capture.

Many U-boat crews embraced unofficial emblems to honor their captains and foster a sense of unity. Although not officially sanctioned, these symbols were typically painted on the conning tower and became a point of pride for the crew.

The U-505 displayed three emblems during its 400-plus days of operation, one for each of its captains.

The first emblem, a Rampant Lion wielding an axe, paid tribute to Axel Olaf Löwe, whose surname means "lion." The second, a Greek Axe, honored Captain Peter Zschech. The final emblem, still visible today, is the Scallop Shell, chosen to represent its last captain, Harald Lange.

It was slightly dark inside, and the lights were dim. The tiny room was packed with four compact bunk beds for mid-ranking men, our tour guide said.

She stood a few feet from us on what seemed like an elevated floor, but was actually the original height between the submarine's floor and ceiling.

She explained that after the submarine arrived at the museum, some adjustments were made for visitor comfort. The floor had been lowered to create more space, and some bunks had been removed to allow visitors to move around more freely than the sailors could.

Still, she said, "It could be worse. You could be one of the enlisted or lowest-ranked men who slept in the forward torpedo room next to active torpedoes."

For the men who lived in the forward torpedo room, the torpedo would double as a dining table, Wolfgang Schiller, a U-505 crewmember, told the Museum of Science and Industry in an interview in 1999.

"We sat with our bottom on the bunk and ate on this wooden plank that sat on the torpedo," he said.

During my tour, I could only see the forward torpedo room through a gated hatch, but it was enough to get a glimpse of how compact life was for sailors aboard.

The U-505 carried 22 torpedoes on board.

One of its torpedo rooms, carrying four 21-inch torpedoes, was at the front of the ship, and the other, with two, was at the back.

Per museum records, these torpedoes could detect the sound of enemy ships and direct themselves toward their target.

Once the captain gave the command to fire, depending on the position of the enemy ships, one of the six Acoustic T5 torpedoes was fired offensively or defensively.

Originally, sailors moved from one part of the submarine to another by passing through hatches. However, to make it easier for visitors, museum staff removed some of the hatches.

While walking through the hallway, I almost missed the galley because of its tiny size.

Much like a kitchen in a New York City walk-up apartment, the galley in U-505 could only accommodate one person at a time. Cooks had access to two large hot plates and one small one. There was an additional tabletop hotplate for large pots.

There was also an oven the size of a tiny air fryer below the hot plates.

While patrolling, the U-505 could be on the sea for over 100 days.

This meant that food for the ship's 59 crew members had to be carried in advance and distributed across the boat to maintain balance.

Three daily meals were served on U-505, and after each meal, the cooks had to count every pound of food and kitchen supplies consumed and keep a record of where each item was placed.

Per museum records, crewmembers would consume all the fresh food first and then move to canned items once that was over.

Items included fresh and cooked meats such as sausages, preserved fish, and potatoes. The food list also included 917 pounds of fresh lemons, which would likely help fight scurvy, a disease caused by a vitamin C deficiency.

Bread — both canned and fresh — was a part of the crew's diet, with museum records indicating that 2,058 pounds of preserved breads were carried on board.

Museum staff discovered one such loaf of canned bread in 1995. It is now displayed in a glass casing outside the submarine at the museum.

With just two bathrooms on the entire submarine — one of which was used for food storage — traditional bathing was impossible. Instead, the crew went without showers while on patrol and relied on alcohol wipes to clean themselves.

Entertainment on board was limited, but light classical music and, sometimes, popular hits of the day reverberated throughout the sub, according to the museum.

American forces found 87 records on board upon capture, our tour guide told us.

Another way the crew kept themselves occupied was by playing a card game called Skat, the national card game of Germany.

The radio room served as the submarine's nerve center for communication.

This compact space was packed with dials, switches, and wires. There were also several notebooks on display — these were maintained by the crew, who kept detailed records of the boat's activities.

This is also where the German crew received and deciphered daily messages sent from the main command center.

Firing a torpedo at the right target at the right moment was a methodical process based on complex mathematical calculations.

In the 1940s, the four torpedo tubes in the bow were already floated and ready to fire, our guide said, adding that the crew just had to wait for the captain's command.

Once a torpedo was fired, the crew used a stopwatch to calculate how long it took to hit its target.

"They are so good at math that they know the exact second the weapon would hit its target," said our tour guide, Elizabeth.

Our tour guide explained that while the U-505 was on the hunt for supply ships in 1944, US Task Group 22.3, commanded by Captain Daniel V. Gallery, was looking for the U-505.

The Task Group included the aircraft carrier USS Guadalcanal and a fleet of destroyer escorts: Pillsbury, Pope, Flaherty, Chatelain, and Jenks.

Captain Gallery and his men tracked the submarine's signals across the Atlantic for a few months until they finally pinpointed the sub's location.

The crew members were instructed to prepare for a crash dive — the ship had to get underwater and out of sight as quickly as possible, which meant every person on board, even those off-duty, now had an important job.

They would have to sprint to the forward torpedo room, dogpile on one another to throw off the weight on the front of the boat, and get it to submerge in just 37 seconds. For context, a regular dive would take about three minutes.

Once underwater, the crew needed to conserve sound and oxygen.

The sound of something as simple as a dropped tool could travel for miles and give away the cruise's location.

Depth charges were explosives designed to explode underwater at a predetermined depth.

Once Captain Lange realized that the boat was sinking, he had a tough choice to make: whether to follow orders that told him to let this boat sink, killing everyone on the board. Or to order a resurface and risk the intelligence of the U-505.

Captain Lange decided to save his crew.

The gunfire on deck went on for six and a half minutes.

One bullet struck Captain Lange's leg — with the captain down, the crew began to scramble.

"They tried to sink or scuttle it on their way out," said our tour guide, Elizabeth, which meant that the crew members could either scatter an explosive booby trap called scuttle throughout the sub or open the sea strainer valve, which would flood the sub.

They decided to open the sea strainer.

Eventually, the Germans were evacuated from the boat, and the American crew, led by Lieutenant (junior grade) Albert L. David and nine other men boarded the sub.

At first, men from the boarding party started collecting as many intelligence materials as possible. They searched for classified documents, code books, how-to manuals for the U-505 machinery, and anything they could take with them in case the boat sank.

This is when one of the men found what proved to be more important than classified material at the time: the sea lid for the sea strainer.

Once the valve had been closed, the Americans felt in control of the boat and were able to tow it to Bermuda.

Fifty-eight of the 59 German crewmembers on board survived — one was killed by gunfire — and were taken as prisoners of war to Camp Ruston in Louisiana, where they remained until the end of the war.

The U-505 was painted black to conceal its true identity and kept in Bermuda for the remainder of the war.

Eventually, the submarine was taken on a publicity tour of the East Coast to fundraise for the ongoing war against Japan. But, once Japan surrendered, the Navy did not have much use for the sub, and they decided to use it for target practice, which would've eventually destroyed the submarine.

But once again, Daniel Gallery, now an admiral, came to save the ship.

Since he was from Chicago, he petitioned the authorities to take possession of the boat and display it at the museum.

The US Navy approved these plans and in 1954, the sub sailed across the Great Lakes and parked on a dry dock at the 57^th Street beach in the summer of 1954.

Lake Shore Drive, a major roadway along Lake Michigan, was shut down at night so the sub could be safely transported to its final destination: the museum.

Once there, it was declared a war memorial and made a permanent part of the museum's collection.

The submarine remained outside the museum for 50 years before staff realized the Chicago weather was causing it to rust and decay.

So, after years of planning, the sub was moved indoors — to a 35,000-square-foot air-conditioned room.

At the end of my tour, a child asked our tour guide, "Why was the U-boat never used again?"

The guide shrugged and replied, "Likely because of all the damages and how compact it was, it didn't work for the Americans."

And yet, decades later, here it stands.

Still imposing, still intact, still capturing the imagination of everyone who walks through its steel-clad past.