What is a Submariner?

I did not write this, but it is better than anything I could have written . . .

What Is A Submariner?

Only a submariner realizes to what great extent an entire boat depends on him as an individual. To a landsman, this is not understandable, and sometimes even difficult for us to comprehend, but it is so! A submarine at sea is a different world within herself, and in consideration of the protracted and distant operations of submarines, the Navy must place responsibility and trust in the hands of those who take such boats to sea. In each submarine there are men who, in the hour of emergency or peril at sea, can turn to each other. These men are ultimately responsible to themselves and each to the other for all aspects of operation of their submarine. They are the crew. They are the boat. This is perhaps the most difficult and demanding assignment in the Navy. There is not an instant during his tour as a submariner that he can escape the grasp of responsibility. His privileges in view of his obligations are almost ludicrously small, nevertheless, it is the spur which has given the Navy its greatest marines - the men of the Submarine Service. It is a duty which most richly deserves the proud and time-honored title of - Submariner. - Author Unknown

Things that go bump in the night – why practice is important

Part of living on a nuclear sub at sea is drills. These are scheduled practice events of possible casualty situations where the entire crew is deprived of sleep in order to perfect our skills of waking up to heinous alarms, banging our heads on the overhead in our rack – that’s a cute term for a bed, putting our clothes on in under 30 seconds and being at a particular station in less than two minutes. There were members of the crew who got to observe and comment on the rest of the crew’s performance during these drills and they relished their position in a sadistic kind of way – I know because I certainly did when I was the observer. Drills made a long day longer for everyone – a long and tiring day that sapped what seemed to be all of your energy, but it was something we knew we had to do. Just in case.

There were lots of different drills we could run. Fires just about anywhere. Unplanned nuclear reactor shutdowns. Launching missiles or torpedoes. Flooding. Collisions. Lions and tigers and bears – oh, my! Well, it seemed that way.

Most of us hated drills. Often you had to wear masks that helped you breathe – these were called EABs; Emergency Breathing Apparatus. These were not fun to use. Since they were not fun, drills were not fun. To wear an EAB, you would slip the main headpiece over your head and tighten the straps so it was really snug on your face. This was good – it kept the bad air out. On the front of the EAB was a hose that if you let it hang, made you look like an elephant with a thin trunk. You had to plug this in to a breathing station. When I wore an EAB these stations never seemed to be close enough – I always felt like I was on my last breath before I got to the next one. I managed to never pass out though. I wear glasses – these are not convenient in an EAB - just so you know.

I did not look forward to drills. I did them and I usually did them well – both as a participant and an observer.

Like the rest of the crew, I hoped we would never ever have to use them in a real emergency. It was required training. We performed for organizations that were the boss of my captain. They wanted to make sure we could do our job. We were proud of how we could handle ourselves during these practices. I was proud to be part of this crew.

I always hoped we would never have to use our training in a situation where the boat was really in danger.

In February 1992 I was attached to the USS Baton Rouge (SSN 689) as the Reactor Controls Leading Petty Officer and our practicing was put to the test.

What this book isn't.

This book isn’t about life on a nuclear powered submarine. Life onboard was fairly mundane. I slept. I ate – sometimes the food was good and sometimes it was REALLY bad. I worked and studied. I performed maintenance on equipment and I observed others use their skills in the performance of their duties. It was a job – where I worked was an underwater missile platform; that is what makes it unique. Our purpose was to launch a retaliatory nuclear strike if required and I supported that purpose.

I will not be telling much about the mission of the submarines I was on. Those were classified. Most missions were categorized as “SECRET” and some were more than likely higher than that. Because I was a member of the crew I had access to information due to the nature of my job and the studies I needed to complete that I might not otherwise have had. Information from those missions that has been made public could pop up here and there.

This will not be an anti-war or pro-war commentary about submarines. It is not a biased opinion of what I thought about the mission I had volunteered for one way or the other.

It will be a collection of reflections on the experiences I had during eighteen years and eight months of voluntary service onboard the most deadly piece of weaponry in the US Navy’s arsenal and how those experiences have carried forward into my civilian life.

I retired from the Navy on October 31, 1995. I joked with family and friends that I could now dress-up as a civilian. What I have discovered in the years since my retirement is that is exactly what I do – I dress-up as a civilian; in my heart I am still a member of one of the most elite groups in the US Navy. I am a Submariner.

So, these are the things I learned along the way. I hope you find these personal reflections both enjoyable and something you can use in your own life. I wish you fair winds and following seas.

I do want to thank my wife and best friend, Carol, for putting up with many things that come with a retired Submariner. We - I can be pretty set in my ways. Love you!

I would also like to thank my daughter, Virginia, and my long time friends Dot and Karen for their invaluable feedback on this project.

When an obstacle squeezes you, squeeze back . . . it just might let go

Saying, "Hello" is usually one of those things that you don't have to think too much about. You just say it and if the person you greeted is so inclined to - and not zoning in some faraway place - they may return your greeting. Simple. Not on submarines.

I had just reported aboard the USS Nathan Hale, SSBN 623 - a fleet ballistic missle submarine (the kind that could destroy the world if ordered to). I was finding my way around below decks and entered the realm of the Engine Room which would be where I would perform my duties and study to be a nuclear operator. I was minding my own business . . . I really was. I started to walk through the hatch to Engine Room Upper Level and was grabbed by a gorilla's arm. Okay - it just felt that way. It was a Machinist Mate - one of those sailors that operates really big pieces of equipment on the submarine and usually have arms as big as your thighs (we called them "knuckle draggers" in the Navy - usually not to their face). He was short, stocky, and just wanted to say, "Hello."

As quickly as he had yanked me through the hatch, he just as quickly turned me on my head, said, "Welcome to the Engine Room!" and took his other huge paw, grabbed hold of my man area, and squeezed as hard as he could. I was at the mercy of Big Earl.

Lots of things ran through my mind. "This hurts." "What is this all about?" "Is this guy on drugs?" But mostly I was wondering how to get out of this little welcome ritual of his. I figured I could only do one thing . . . with both of my hands I grabbed him and squeezed right back.

To this day I am not sure if anyone had ever done that to him, but I discovered that it pays to squeeze your obstacles back - Big Earl let go.

In fact, we became pretty good friends after our encounter. He helped me enormously when it came to understanding how the machinery in the Engineroom operated. He was my go-to guy for questions and advice when it came to his domain. Because of him, I was able to qualify quickly in the areas I needed to comprehend to become a Nuclear Reactor Operator on this Navy vessel. He was awesome!

I have faced many obstacles in life. The most recent is being a 5th grade teacher at a school in Florida. But it all comes back to some basics - when an obstacle gets in your way you can let it overpower you and squeeze the life and drive from your soul or you can grab it, squeeze back and pray for the strength to keep squeezing until it lets go.

Jesus told some of his friends to look at a mountain. I can only imagine their thoughts. "Here we go again, another story." "Is he gonna tell us somethign we won't understand until later - again?" "Good grief, does he ever get tired of riddles?" What he said next must've floored them. He told them that the huge obstacle in front of them could be squeezed out of the way if they had 1/1000 of a meter of faith - faith the size of a mustard seed. Just imagine what could be done with two hands full of that stuff!

So, when an obstacle squeezes you so hard your eyes cross and you can't do anything else, take a really deep breath, ask God for the strength, take both your hands, grab it, squeeze it, and don't let go until the obstacle can hold on no longer. Who knows, it may become a stepping stone or a friend.