The Submariner’s Lament; When you understand 1

theleansubmariner

When you understand

This was a post that I put up on Facebook in 2014. It has been shared over 8500 times in the time it has been on Facebook

I am grateful for the feedback already sent

On February 16, 2017, it came to my attention that the story has been cut and pasted with unauthorized alterations and no attribution. I never copyrighted the post or the material but rest assured that it is still my intellectual property. I have shared this freely with the submarine community. All I ask in return is that it not be altered and credit be given where possible.

Mister Mac

When you understand 2

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The Birth of the First Civilian Submarine Reply

This was an early post on theleansubmariner (2011) that has been updated with new content and pictures. 100 years ago, the Germans experimented with the first commercial submarine Deutschland commanded by Captain Paul Koenig. König was a captain in the German merchant navy. In 1916 during World War I, he became a reserve Kapitänleutnant in the Imperial German Navy.

Later in 1916, König became commanding officer of the merchant submarine Deutschland. He took it on two patrols to the United States for commercial purposes. He arrived at Baltimore on July 10, 1916, with a cargo of dyestuffs. While in the United States he was interviewed by newspapermen, was even the recipient of vaudeville offers, was welcomed by mayor of Baltimore and officials. On August 2 he sailed on the return voyage, later making a second voyage and putting in at New London, Connecticut.

He received the Iron Cross 1st class the same year. Following his return after the second journey, König wrote a book called Voyage of the Deutschland, which was heavily publicized, as it was intended to be used as propaganda.

König then became commanding officer of a Sperrbrechergruppe (group of blockade runners; 1917), and later was an executive at Norddeutscher Lloyd (1919–1931). He died at Gnadau, on September 9, 1933, where he is buried.

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The Birth of the First Civilian Submarine

While we were on our last trip, I stopped by a used book  store and found a book that had been a part of my life growing up. In my Grandfather’s library was a collection of books called “Source Records of the  Great War”. These books were collected documents about the events that were  part of World War 1 from the viewpoint of the actual participants.
Unfortunately, out of all of the books, only the year 1916 was in the store. While I was reading it last night, I uncovered a piece of submarine history  that I was not aware of despite years of reading and presenting submarine  talks. An even happened in 1916 that had the potential to change the way submarines could be used in the future.

On July 9, 1916 the captain of the German submarine Deutschland,  Paul Koenig…

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Denizens of the Deep – the bond between submarines and their crews 3

failure is not an option

From the very beginning of submarines, the vessels have been compared to a steel coffin or a sewer pipe closed on both ends. But to the men who have sailed on them and especially to the men (and now women) who built them and then drove them below the waves into a sea of uncertainty, they gain an almost mystical property. These underwater “denizens of the deep” become an all-encompassing force that changes a person forever. There is a bond that builds between crew and boat that lasts well beyond most other bonds.

Not all who sail on them love them. From the moment you come aboard the boat it presents a challenge to the physical and mental capabilities of the sailors who operate them. You are the newbie, the non-qual. All of the school and learning you have done to date means nothing to the boat or to the men who have been there before. You will only become part of the crew by giving up a part of you and becoming a part of the force that makes the boat operate at her best. There is nothing less than perfection expected form each sailor in the qualification and many hours of sleep will be sacrificed along the way to earning your “fish”. But it’s not even that simple. While you are learning, you must also contribute.

Endless days and nights beneath the darkness of the deep sea, you find yourself pushed and pulled at the same time. Pushed to contribute in achieving the mission and pulled in your own testing. There simply is no place for second best and you learn to hate the challenge while clinging on to every small victory. Line by line, you complete each level of achievement only to be given a newer and harder task. Respect is rare for a newbie and privileges even rarer. The pressure can be relentless but that pressure ensures that you will be ready to respond when called upon.

Each person must be stretched to the limit because in the end, the sea and the enemy beyond the edge of the horizon are unforgiving of mistakes. A missed valve could cause a catastrophe just as easily as an unseen mountain. Everything inside the hull has a risk of one kind or another and everything outside the hull presents a danger to the unprepared. No detail is too small and no amount of preparation is too much. There are no second chances when you are driving relatively blind in an ocean filled with the great unknowns.

The mission can be great or small but it is always faced with the same consequences if you fail. Unlike a normal job where missing a goal or schedule might mean an admonishment or a chance to do it over, the submarine only allows you the chance to get it right the first time,

One day, you reach the end of your checklist. You sit across the table from other men who have been tested and you reach down inside to remember every detail of every system and schematic you learned. You rattle off details about tank capacities, frequencies, weapons characteristics and hundreds of other details. After a long time they send you out into the passageway so that they can discuss your fate. Sometimes there will be a look up for some small detail that you missed. Sometimes you are judged not ready at all with a list of things to relearn. But on one special day, the leader of the board sys, “Congratulations. You have earned your dolphins.”

From that day you belong to a unique group of people. You become the teacher for the next person in line. You grow a unique bond with the boat that tested you and allowed you to meet the challenge. The boat becomes a part of your life in a way that will last as long as you live.

Now the test really begins. Will you be able to use that knowledge and skill under any circumstances? Will you discover that while you have learned much, there is still much more to learn? The sea learns too and so does your enemy. Both continue to probe for weaknesses every single day. This is a mighty warship after all and the war is never fully defined. You can talk about what you will do in a storm but until you ride the storm, you cannot predict how you and the boat will respond. You can practice countering an enemy but he has the ability and the skills to do the unexpected. Your survival is based on all of the crew responding with everything they have and the boat with all that is has. There is no second place in this undersea war.

A million miles and a thousand dives later, it’s time for the boat to come home. Like the grey haired old men who built her so long ago, she is tired and deserves a rest. The smooth lines of many years ago are slightly puckered with age. Driving to test depth and back again will do that to the old girl. She creaks a bit more when she dives but she still manages to put on a head of steam when she needs it for that last big run. But up ahead, she sees the pier waiting. There are men there with ropes ready to tie her down for the last time. Other people are waiting with wrenches and torches standing by to cut her apart and prepare her for the end. The bunks will all be stripped, the galley will close down forever and the power will come from long black lines attached to the shore that gave her birth. The periscope will soon be taken out and the memory of all the things she has seen will disappear into the mists of time. The phones and communications circuits will growl nor more. Slowly, the watch standers will rotate off, never to be replaced

On the saddest day ever, a band will play and her remaining crew will gather for a ceremony that all knew would come someday. There is no more somber a day than the day when the flag of the country she defended so well for all of those decades comes down for the last time. She has flown that flag at sea and in foreign ports all over the world reminding them of her mighty power and the power of the nation whose symbol she represents. She has lent that flag to the family members of shipmates who have gone before. Now it is her turn.

It’s hard to escape death. You can delay it, but in the end, the life that she represented is finally ended. The memories will last as long as there is a crewman alive who sailed her. But she will never again feel the salt air blowing waves across her bow. The angles and dangles she once performed will be nothing but a fading sea story. The rushing speed that you feel below your feet as the hull pierces the dark depths of the ocean will only live in the imaginations of those who have felt it. Her best stories will never be told out of respect for the boats and crews that take her place. But the grey old men know. They look at each other with faded eyesight and see a group of twenty something year olds who once mastered the ocean in a highly unconventional way.

As the USS San Francisco transitions to her new role preparing another generation for the challenges to come, I will always stand with pride when her name is called. I hope that any man or woman who has ever been a submariner can say the same about the boats they rode. It was my greatest honor to sail on board her and it was an even greater honor to sail with you all.

Mister Mac

USS San Francisco SSN 711 Alumni Association

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What a great time to have been a submariner… Riding the 711 Boat 3

What a ride

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Of all the adventures in my short life, the one that will always rise to the top is not just one single adventure, but a collection of adventures over a four year period that have one thing in common: They are all related to being a crewmember of the best submarine a man could ever hope for. The USS San Francisco (SSN 711) begins a journey towards her new life as a Moored Training Ship (MTS) on Friday November 4th. There are rumors that she might be delayed a bit, but her path now seems pretty clear. This mighty war ship will be partially dismantled and used to train the next generation of technicians and officers for their roles in the fleet.

The boat was launched on October 27, 1979 in Newport News Shipyard

Just a few days before she was launched, I reenlisted in the Navy after an absence from active duty of a few years. I was newly divorced, tired of living from paycheck to paycheck and ready to try my hand at being a sailor again. The Navy was a life saver for me since the economy in our area was in a serious mess and the prospects of a great future were non-existent. Three things happened in the year that would follow. I would join the crew of the pre-commissioning ship San Francisco, Ronald Reagan would run for President and ultimately win, and I met and married my beautiful wife Debbie. These three events made the adjustments in my life that helped me to achieve many of my unfulfilled goals.

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I missed the launching but didn’t miss anything else related to outfitting the ship. As a member of Auxiliary Division, I helped to put together the non-nuclear machinery thsat would support the ship’s operations and life. I discovered a love for developing and delivering training that would later transfer over to my achieving Master Training Specialist and a Bachelor of Science degree in Workforce Education Development. But I also learned to be a sailor and operate a ship that could do some amazing things.

He ain’t heavy, He’s my Brother

One of the other reasons this was a special assignment was that I was able to serve with my youngest brother Tom. We had a lot of crazy adventures together and one of my favorite memories was pinning my original pewter back Dolphins on Tom when he became qualified in submarines. I would later pin my San Francisco Dress Dolphins on my nephew Artie Anderson who followed in the family tradition of becoming a Submarine Auxiliary man. Tom’s son Theodore was a submariner as well but somehow we lost him to the Nuclear program. But we were very proud of each of them as they found their own paths.

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In the 36 years San Francisco has played a role in defending this country, she has had her share of good fortune and stark terror.

One of the most memorable of course was the collision that occurred a number of years back. I asked the author of the book  Making a Submarine Officer – A story of the USS San Francisco (SSN 711)  Alex Fleming: for permission to post just a small part of that story.

Note:  You can order your own copy here:  https://www.amazon.com/Making-Submarine-Officer-story-Francisco-ebook/dp/B0052YQLWA

January 8th, 2005, 1142 hours, near the Caroline Islands

           : There is a low rumbling which sounds to some like “God crushing a beer can,” and the ship slows instantaneously from 30 knots to 4 knots. The boat is well stowed for sea, so there are no projectiles, but every single person is thrown forward into the nearest vertical object. The people in the chow line end up in a huge pile in middle level. Rome and Litty are on the starboard side of the Diesel in lower level and they land in a heap on the deck. The OOD is thrown out of control, shouting Emergency blow even as he hits his head on a computer screen. The DOOW, Senior Chief Hager, is up out of his chair to update a status board, and he is thrown onto the ships control panel, shattering a gauge. His chair is thrown forward, breaking his leg. The Quartermaster flies fifteen feet forward and lands on the stern planesman, breaking the back of his chair. The JOOD is thrown forward onto the fire control displays in front of him, hitting his head and neck. The men in the smoke pit land on the pumps directly in front of them, except for Ashley, who is thrown forward 20 feet and hits his head on a pump assembly. Every single plate of food is thrown all over the galley. In the wardroom, one officer shoves his fork through his lip, and the Captain watches as one of the mess cooks flies over his shoulder and lands on the flat screen TV on the forward bulkhead.

            The Captain is pinned in his chair, but quickly recovers and runs up to control to find out what happened. He gets there after the Chief of the Watch has already thrown the emergency blow handles, but the ship is not going up. The DOOW is back in his chair, not saying a word about his broken leg, shouting out depths. The ship has a down angle, and it is clear from indications that something serious has happened to the forward ballast tanks. Matt Priests quickly recovers from being slammed against his stateroom wall, and runs back to the ER as he hears an emergency report of “Flooding in the ER.” He knows this is the most serious situation that a ship can have, underwater, doing an emergency blow with flooding in the ER. No submarine can get positive buoyancy with the ER filling with water, and for a moment, Matt is sure that they are all going to die. He quickly finds that the report was an error, and the water is just a leak from a cracked freshwater pipe.

            The Captain and Chief Hager in control are still watching the depth gauge, waiting for it to show upward movement. Finally, after almost a minute, the ship begins to rise, breaking the surface at 1143:52. The next forty minutes are a chaos of emergency reports, calls for the Doc, people trying to respond to ten different casualties, and people trying to care for injured shipmates. In shaft alley, an electrician named Brain Barnes does not know what else to do, so he holds Joey Ashley’s hand and talks to him, waiting for Doc Akin to arrive.”

You will have to buy the book for the rest of the story. I will also be adding the book to my Now Read This section of the blog.

On Friday November 4th, the change will start taking place. It will probably not be dramatic except for all the ghosts who I am sure will be on the pier. I earlier had thought I would not be allowed to go because of my heart issues. But frankly, my heart has never been the same since I left the San Francisco. Service on board her changed my life. I am pretty sure a lot of other people can say the same. It will be my greatest honor to stand on her decks one last time.

Thanks to all those who kept her going all these years. I am proud to have been called shipmate and even prouder to call all of you my shipmates.

Mister Mac (AKA Big Mac)

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Should I stay or should I go? 1

One of the questions asked so much in the recent lead up to the storm is “Should I stay or should I go”.

The obvious answer is to follow the directions of the emergency management officials. Much of the loss of life and deprivation after Katrina was too many people in the wrong place at the wrong time. Some of that can be blamed on the local and regional government of course. Before they took it down, I had a copy of the Emergency Management Plan for New Orleans. The section that talked about evacuation plans simply stated: To be developed.  The results were catastrophic and the affects can still be felt today.

I honestly believe however that many people stayed out of a lack of basic understanding of disaster management. For whatever reason, there was a belief that it wasn’t going to be that bad and if it was, the government was going to bail them out. If you read the BOLD WARNINGS on the Ready.gov web site however, even the most casual understanding would show you that the government will probably not be there right away. The proof is in their own words:

“You may need to survive on your own after an emergency. This means having your own food, water and other supplies in sufficient quantity to last for at least 72 hours. Local officials and relief workers will be on the scene after a disaster but they cannot reach everyone immediately. You could get help in hours or it might take days.”   Or maybe longer if you want to be really honest. A big enough storm may cover a much wider area which will certainly tax the government’s ability to respond.

Whether you chose to stay or to go, you should still build a kit that fits either contingency. Things that might be valuable in a shelter in place might be cumbersome if you have to bug out. The time for deciding what is needed is well before the actual need to decide. Precious minutes might be wasted getting just the right things into place. This is where planning is of the utmost importance.

Bugging Out

I started building our bug out bag when we lived in Tornado Alley. The logic at the time was that if we had to evacuate in a hurry, I didn’t want to be gathering needed items. Using a workout gear bag (made of water resistant nylon) I assembled some basic food items, cooking gear used in camping, water containers for drinking, and tools.

 

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Mountain House freeze dried food is the most reliable and enjoyable of all the food I have tried. While I still have some MRE’s in rotation for my Shelter in Place plan, the freeze dried stays fresher longer, is lighter and has a a far superior taste. Add to that how easy it is to reconstitute. You can either boil the water or you can use the convenient heater packs (purchased separately) which require nothing but water. This kit includes a rain poncho which doubles as a makeshift tent. There is nothing more frustrating than trying to light a stove in the rain.

img_1056A fishing tackle box contains a large number of useful items for either Bug Out or Staying. The box is sealed which keeps the contents nice and dry. Most of the items are from camping or boating stores. A folding shovel, sturdy survival knife, axes and multiple butchering tools are ready to help address any number of emergencies. I have at least five different methods to light a fire including flint if need be.   A basic medical bag can address most first aid issues and don’t forget the extra seal canteens of water. Waterproof matches are a must and I keep them sealed in plastic bags just to be safe.

Leaving is not always an option

We are blessed to have a house with a walk out basement. In that basement is a finished room with three pretty solid walls and no direct exposure to the outside on any of the walls. The previous owners equipped it with a steel door so this was a natural choice for me to establish our Zombie Room. In one of the corners, I have a storage cabinet that holds the Bug Out Kid and the Shelter in Place materials. While I keep some of the more flammable items in a safer storage nearby, this cabinet has enough supplies to make sure we can go well beyond the 72 hours the government typically suggests. We live in the country and those extra supplies may be our lifeline until the crisis passes.

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Along with a rotating stock of MRE’s we recently shifted over to Mountain House’s “Just in Case” buckets. These sealed buckets have a 25 year shelf life. I imagine that they will out last either of us at this point in time. They are lightweight, rodent resistant, waterproof and easy to store. The buckets are also useable for other purposes once they are empty of their food.

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The cabinet is a great place for additional tools you might need and more medical supplies. We have a gas grill, a Coleman Stove, portable camping stoves and as a last resort prepackaged one time use grills. More sophisticated cookware for Shelter in Place is also kept here.

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The orange bucket is filled with a number of things including toilet paper, duct tape, plastic tarps, extra dusk masks, and some protective coveralls. Elsewhere in the case are gas masks with filters suitable for ruse in the case of a chemical or nuclear fallout event. I pray that we will never have to use them but with Putin and his ministers rattling the nuclear saber once more, you just never know. (By the way, the orange bucket also doubles as a toilet… have a few close by just in case).

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Finally, what’s a good Zombie Room without a way to take out zombies? My hobby is shooting so I probably would have had most of these anyway. But we live in an area where law enforcement is limited and crime is just around the corner. My suggestion for most people is to have at least a shotgun. But it is not always practical to hunt with a shotgun and you may require something with a little more flexibility should the zombies rise.

A logical question is “what gun and caliber should I purchase?” My common answer is “one that you will actually use if you need it.” I prefer 9MM for my handguns and at least one rifle. My AR shoots 5.56 or .223. If you decide on an AR, make sure you get one chambered for the 5.56. It will handle both. These popular rounds will be worth their weight in gold if an actual catastrophe occurs.

The Plan

All of these things are quite useless if you don’t have a plan. Ready.gov has some good basic building blocks. The time to plan is not as the winds are passing 55 MPH or the water is rising above your front stoop. The time to plan is NOW.

Mister Mac

https://www.ready.gov/

http://www.cdc.gov/

https://www.fema.gov/

http://survivalcache.com/

 

Are you ready? Are you sure? 1

Saying prayers to our friends and families affected by the storms.

theleansubmariner

With the recent storms in Florida and the south, I was reminded about another large storm and it’s impacts. We are praying for the folks in the South today and hope that everyone remains safe. God Bless and Protect you all.

One of my post retirement hobbies has been public speaking. My subject matter is pretty expected; Navy stuff, World War 2 history and of course Submarines in the Cold War. I’ve probably given hundreds of talks over the past sixteen years to all sizes of social and civic groups. But one of my favorite topics has been developed over the past ten years. Readiness. As a good submarine sailor, I pride myself for thinking about all of the situations I might find myself in during our routines and travels. Living in Western Michigan was a joy in some ways but also a challenge since we were right in the path…

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Fifteen years… but it seems like a lifetime 4

It was a blue sky day

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September 11, 2001 is the date which marks the turning point in modern history for many people. On this day, America found out what it is like to be vulnerable in a very real way. My generation grew up in the shadow of an elusive nuclear threat. We were trained to accept at a very early age that everything we knew could change in a blinding flash of light and all of us had some role to play in being prepared. Civil Defense shelters were everywhere and many families even had basement bomb shelters to prepare for survival in a nuclear attack.

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But the attacks never came.

The shelters slowly just faded away and became relics of another time. The defenses we had built up were enough to give us a false sense of security. Treaties and the fall of the old Soviet Evil Empire assured us that we were indeed safe. Even rogue nations like Iraq could be bested and contained by coalitions of determined nations. This was a golden age of prosperity and growth.

All of that came to a crashing end on the morning of September 11th. An evil and determined enemy driven by an ideological fanaticism announced to the world that even the great America could be reached and dealt a blow. The planes that were used were representative of the technological and ideological advances of mankind. From the means of transportation to the systems that supported them, modern day jets are a miracle of no small magnitude. Less than a hundred years before that date, sustained air flight was still a dream and the idea that thousands of jets would be in the air that clear September morning was beyond anyone’s imagination. Not only that, but the means to communicate with and track those airborne behemoths was also a very large leap in technology during that same one hundred years. Finally, the development and distribution of the fuel needed to support an ever growing system of transportation was in itself a gigantic achievement for mankind. Think about it… prior to 1900, small vehicles would take weeks or months to travel the distance that these planes could travel in hours.

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The great city of New York was a perfect symbol for the advances in mankind’s technological growth. The World Trade Center Towers were the ultimate symbol of man’s achievements. From the materials used to construct them to the methods employed, man showed that he could overcome seemingly impossible obstacles and build these gleaming structures. They truly represented a greatness that stood head and shoulders above every other generation before in regards to technological advances. The towers contained financial industries, government functions, business of every kind and most importantly people. People of many nations and cultures. Mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, friends and neighbors.

Yet with all of her security and all of her prowess, America was vulnerable in a way that was inconceivable up until the moment the first plane approached the first tower.  Films from that day show the absolute shock and horror of the people as they watched the plane crash into the upper part of the building. I can only guess at this, but it occurs to me that the events of that day were the most published public tragedy that had ever occurred. TV cameras were rolling the entire time and chronicled the events from the first to the collapse of the Towers. Other news crews focused on the attacks on the Pentagon and as the last plane crashed in Pennsylvania, more news sources rushed to inform the public of every detail.

Our innocence was lost forever that day. For a short time, we were united. Politicians who the day before were shouting at each other about the most meaningless things stood together on the steps of the capital and sang and prayed. People put up flags everywhere and talked to neighbors they had not talked to for a long time. There was no race, no creed, no color and only the slightest sense of hatred for Muslims and their religion. All of that would change within a few years. Today, we are more divided than at any time in out nation’s history since the civil war. Politicians use that anger and hated to gain power and divide us even further. But I have to always remember that we allow ourselves to be manipulated.

Worst of all, the world around us seems to be getting more dangerous. The Russians have been behaving like the old Soviet Union, the Chinese are trying to encroach on the freedom of their neighbors, North Korea and Iran routinely violate international law with impunity and places like Pakistan (which is nuclear armed) are on the brink of total collapse.

It will be interesting to see what happens to this country in the coming days and months. Our family has begun to pray more and seek understanding through the scriptures. My gut feeling is that while we were told that the end times would not be defined by an exact day and time, they are fast approaching. I hope I am wrong.

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This gate is the barrier at the end of the memorial wall in Shanksville PA Only the Park service and family members are ever allowed to go beyond this wall to the place where Flight 93 came to its final resting place.

But on the other hand, if a thousand years of progress and achievement can be laid low by a few sick twisted ideologists from a backwards culture branding box cutters, can we ever really feel safe again?

Mister Mac

I won’t be there, but my heart will Reply

News about the inactivation of the USS San Francisco (SSN 711) has finally been released. It appears that it is coming in the next few months. The ship will be refitted and used as a Moored Training Ship (MTS). It had been a goal of mine to see her one last time while she was still a warship but that seems to be out of the question.

God Bless the men who have sailed her through good times and bad for the past 36 years.

 

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I won’t be there.

I remember the first time I saw you. I’m not sure what I expected to see, but you surely weren’t it. You were disheveled, ragged and covered with dirt and dust from the rough environment you were in. You were like a new child that hadn’t even taken its first steps yet. I watched you grow. Day after day through winter storms and a summer hotter than I could remember, you took shape. Soon enough, it was time to break free and become the part of most of our lives that would change us forever. I still see you with twenty six year old eyes and I still get goose bumps when I see you where you were always meant to be. Gliding through the water on your way to the dive point. The day you hit 1000 dives must have been very special. I remember your first. I remember praying that the men and women who built you did so with all of the care in the world. When you broke free from the surface and started showing your real gifts, it was the greatest adventure of my life. Looking around at the others who were with us, I could see the looks on their faces. Screaming through the water, diving up and down, turning so fast, it pulled men to the edge of their seats. It wasn’t my first time, but it is the one that I cherish the most.

You’ve logged a lot of miles. You’ve seen so many places. You’ve had challenges that would have broken others. And now your journey is almost over.

I always felt like you were my mistress. I married my Debbie the same year we met and so many times you pulled me back. I dream about you and I dream about the brave men who kept you safe even in the worst of times. I am grateful for their service every day and I thank each and every one of them. So many are not here anymore and in our old age, the list keeps getting longer.

They tell me you will be a school. That seems appropriate. You have already taught a few generations how to be submariners. It’s something you do well.

I wanted to come and see you one last time but I won’t be there. The thirty six years since we met has been hard on me too. I always say I left my heart on the San Francisco but the truth is that my heart is wearing out faster than you did. I pray that the surgeon’s hands will be as true and steady as the hands that built and rebuilt you.

I will be there in spirit though. I’ll be carrying a clipboard as I make my rounds throughout the boat. I’ll smell the cooking in your galley and feel the boat rising beneath my feet. As I enter a darkened control room, the boat will glide to periscope depth, rocking back and forth in the open sea. Somewhere in the night, the Dive is keeping the planesmen focused and the Chief of the Watch moves his hands like a maestro across the ballast control panel making adjustments. Everything will be performed flawlessly and the mission will be completed well. This is how I will remember you old friend.

Oro en Paz, Fierro en Guerra

“Big Mac” SSN 711 Plankowner