The greatest joy, the deepest sorrow.
As we approach the anniversary of the loss of the USS Thresher, I am once again reminded that the world of Submariners and their families are consumed with the greatest of joys and the deepest sorrows.
The joy comes when a boat has completed her mission and returns safely home. As the small black object on the horizon starts getting bigger and bigger, you can almost feel the joy of the wives and children. Dad has been gone for so long and so many things have changed. Holidays were missed, special school events were not seen and so many of life’s little blessings were passed by. But in this moment, that magnificent hull is coming closer and closer. Maybe there is a band. Certainly there is anticipation. What will they say to each other after so many months of long separation?
There is the tug now, sidling up next to the boat. A hatch opens and men come out to help with the lines. Is that Dad? Does he see me? My God his beard is shaggy. That will have to come off right away. Closer and closer the boat pulls in as it approaches the pier. Hearts are beating faster and faster as the loneliness is about to be forgotten. Tears of joy. Suddenly every little problem of the world is forgotten.
That is how it is supposed to be. But on a day long ago, there were no homecomings. Just emptiness. One minute, there were thoughts of a husband far away on a submarine, just doing what he wanted to do, and the next minute… well the next minute goes on forever. A phone call. Questions about what is going on. Hope against hope that it is all just a mistake. Haven’t boats lost communications before? But they always came back. Not this time.
Tears of sorrow burst from their eyes. Crying and emptiness that never ends. Souls that are never reunited. No bands will play. The pier is empty. So are their lives.
Everyone is brave until they actually have to be. Everyone is sure they will see each other again until they don’t. Everyone is sure this is just another routine operation until it isn’t.
The loss of any submarine is a sad reminder of how un-routine this business will always be. The sacrifices of those men will always be felt by the families and the brothers who wear the dolphins on their chest. The world moved on. But in the world of Submariners there will always be that moment. That Gertrude check. That empty sea filled with no response.
God rest their souls. God Bless those who still mourn their loss.
Mister Mac
theleansubmariner 
Amen brother!
Please add the date 10 April 1963 to your fine article.
You just did. As a lifelong Submariner and veteran, the day will forever be remembered in the hearts of those who know.
Bob MacPherson (AKA Mister Mac)
I am “Martha Spruitenburg” on MeWe. I am sending you a Friend request on MeWe. Are you in any submarine groups there?
See you there! Happy new Year
Mac
You just did. As a lifelong Submariner and veteran, the day will forever be remembered in the hearts of those who know.
Bob MacPherson (AKA Mister Mac)
I am one of those who still mourn. I am the daughter of Wayne Lavoie who was lost on Thresher. April 10th had even more meaning to my dad and our family as it was his 28th birthday. Thank you for reminding the Thresher family that others out there still remember this tragedy after so many years.
Linda Durant
Linda.
Thank you for the note. There are many of us who remember each and every year. I cannot express my sadness deeply enough but be assured that I have thought of them many times when I got underway on my boats. You will be in my prayers tonight.
Bob MacPherson (AKA theleansubmariner)
Linda.
Thank you for the note. There are many of us who remember each and every year. I cannot express my sadness deeply enough but be assured that I have thought of them many times when I got underway on my boats. You will be in my prayers tonight.
Bob MacPherson (AKA theleansubmariner)
Beautiful tribute.
Semper Fortis. Sailors, rest your oars.
Thank you Mac.
Reblogged this on Tales of an Asia Sailor and commented:
I had a shipmate who was lost on Thresher, CS2 Ronald Muise.
I was going thru sub school when the Thresher went down. We went to the chapel funeral services. I remember screaming and sobbing folks. It was a very moving experience for me and my classmates.
I had a friend, Ltjg John Grafton, that reported early from sub school leave and went down with the boat.
Beetle Bailey
Bob, I was in sub school on that fateful day as well. We had a WWII chief torpedoman as an instructor. He was looking out the window in class when he suddenly exclaimed “oh my God…that’s not good! Both submarine rescue boats are heading down the river to sea. Something is up!”. I went to the memorial service on base as well. I will never forget it.
Reblogged this on theleansubmariner and commented:
Remembering those who gave their all… 120 years of submarine service and sacrifices
I was 14 when the Thresher was lost. A little more than 3 years later at 17 i voluteered for Submarines. I never would have imagined that 2 years later at 19 I would be part of the initial search for the Scorpion.
I was Navy nuc 69-78 Reactor Operator on 608 Ethan Allen. It was terrible those sailors perished so that my boat could be made sub safe. I bow to you my brothers.
Bernie Shotwell and I were sub designated running mates in “C” school at Dam Neck. Bilging out of school was an automatic trip to surface craft. The fact that Bernie got sent to the Thresher instead of some tin can is testament to what kind of man he was. We all told him how lucky he was to get a boat. The only difference between Bernie and me; he flunked one more test than I did. Have never known quite what to make of that. Fate is just fate!!! I was on my second patrol aboard SSBN 599 when we got the news. God bless you my friend think of you often. I dedicated a brick to him on the “41 for Freedom” memorial.
Reblogged this on Dolphin Dave.