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.