He Was a Good Man – Remembering Our Submariners
Every once in a while, I am reminded that the one constant in life is change and tied to that is the passage of time. No, I am not channeling a former presidential candidate… time is really passing and despite the commercials on tv promising to hide the effects of that passage, you can’t escape that every minute that passes, we are all getting older.
I saw a brief posting on Facebook from one of the Sub Vets bases saying that they had lost their last World War 2 Veteran. His life was a remarkable story of achievement and courage.
https://www.legacy.com/us/obituaries/trenton/name/calvin-moon-obituary?pid=207727540
DBF
I try to make it to as many subbase meetings as I can here in Charleston but being relatively new to the base, I could not remember if I had seen any since I have been here. We are a typical base with a mix of different generations. The diesel boat guys are still pretty active and present but more and more the ones that I see have nuke boats on their sub vests as well as their diesel boat names. I remember going to my advanced auxiliary package course here in Charleston in 1973 and most of my class were former enginemen from the smoke boats who were getting converted to machinist mates and sent to the nuclear submarines that were replacing the older boats. I remember that they did not seem happy to give up their former lifestyle.
The diesel boat sailors are a treasure to those of us that are still blest to know them. They are our last connection to the submariners that set the standard for what a submariner should be. Hard and gritty. Filled with piss and vinegar. No stranger to grease and grime. A hardness that comes from weeks and months of sailing in unfriendly waters and the ever-present smell of cooking odors and every obnoxious irritant known to man. They lived in a tube, sealed on both ends, hunting an enemy they could only see through the noise that the enemy emitted. They are the stuff that legends are made of. Every kid my age wanted to be on the adventure that had John Wayne moments and Clark Gable successes. I can still hear the sonar reports in the Bungo Straights. “What’s that noise? I can’t make it out”.
If you ever make it down our way, one of the places you must go to is the After Battery. If there was ever a true representation of the old way of life on submarines, it is the After Battery. I will be doing a longer piece on the AB in the near future, but it is a national treasure. No glitzy stuff with polished floors and perfect lighting. But you will find the purest representation of what life was like on the old boats. The location of the AB is 120 Sawdust Lane, Dorchester, SC 29437
If you need answers, call the Chaplain
I called our base Chaplain Nick (J.E. “Nick” Nichols MTCM(SS), USN Ret.) and we had a short conversation in between him spraying the weeds in his yard. Nick is one of the most compassionate and caring guys I have ever known in my life, and he also knows pretty much everything worth knowing about the Charleton USSVI Subbase. He also keeps a very active binnacle list of members who are sick or convalescing. As I mentioned before, many of us from the Cold War era are starting to discover that we are not aging as well as our non-navy contemporaries. Needless to say, Nick is a very busy man.
I asked him about our membership and whether or not we had any remaining WW2 submariners. He told me that last one went on eternal patrol from the Charleston Base went on eternal patrol on 23 September 2022. When Nick first started, there were 32 WW2 veterans that were members of the base. So, it is a sad thing to note that the greatest generation have largely left for their next assignment.
The greatest generation
I went on the national submarine web site that has an eternal patrol section and started looking through the obituaries from the last few years. It occurred to me that I have truly become my dad. I remember him spending more time on the obituary pages than the sports pages. To be fair, the paper we had was the McKeesport Daily News and his friend had been the long-time owner and editor. In dad’s last days, the paper got smaller and smaller because the city was dying and businesses were closing by the dozens. When the steel mill shut down, everything just came to a stop. Except the obituary pages. Even in the eighties, many of the greatest generation were starting to die in larger numbers. Personally, I think saving the world took a larger toll on them than we give credit for. Dad only made it to 66 and I am sure the hardships during the war and coming home to build a new life were partially responsible for that.
In his later years, Dad would look for the obituaries of people he knew and worked with over the years. He was active in the veterans’ communities, Navy League, Masonic Lodge, Red Cross and had been a fire chief in his earlier years. Probably the largest group of people he knew were firemen in western Pennsylvania. His longest career was selling fire trucks, and he spoke their language. I will never forget the funeral service where two Mack Hook and Ladder fire trucks were set up in an arch for the car with the casket to drive through on the way to the burial site.
Dad was pretty faithful about going to as many funeral services as he was able. Even though I was stationed away from home for most of his later years, we talked every Saturday. Part of every phone call was a recap of who had passed, and how they knew each other. The only Saturdays I missed were when I was underway. Our last call was the day before he died. That one stays deeply imbedded in my mind. My ship was getting underway in the morning for a short trip back to Norfolk. Dad was in the hospital after another stroke but his voice sounded really strong that morning. His last words to me were “See you first thing”. I can’t wait for that to happen.
Another Brother Gone
While I was scrolling through the submarine obituaries looking for other WW2 sailors, I stopped on one that kind of gave me pause. It was from one of the Ohio Submarine Vets pages (USSVI Base: USS Toledo).
Frank Bracken, MM1(SS) from Gibsonburg, Ohio passed away on May 18, 2025. His on-line obituary on USSVI says that he qualified in submarines on the USS San Francisco (SSN 711) in 1981 and was an MM1 (SS) when he left the navy.
https://www.hermanfh.com/obituaries/frank-bracken
I would encourage anyone that knew Frank to go on the obituary link and look at the video they made of his life. It captures his life pretty well and I will freely admit caused my eyes to leak a bit.
When I first saw the listing on the USSVI page, I did not remember Frank. It must be my advancing age but the picture they used was one that showed someone that I could not recall. I went back to my 711 archives and pulled out the commissioning pamphlet and there he was with one of the two M Division pictures. That was a face that I remember. Looking at the pictures on his funeral home obituary tribute, I definitely remember Frank.
John Class was a Lt JG (later Lieutenant) on the 711 (Supply Officer)
His comment on Facebook when I originally posted about Frank’s passing was that he “worked with him for 20 years at Davis-Besse Nuclear Power Station until his retirement in 2009. A good man.”
I suppose the best tribute any of us could hope for was that when you look at our lives after we are gone, a shipmate will remember us with words similar to those.
He was a good man.
My generation is starting their slow march towards the exit.
The obituary page for the San Francisco on USSVI is getting longer and longer. Many names that should be on it, aren’t. Maybe the family didn’t know how to get the names on it and maybe they just moved on after they left the boat. Looking at the old photos, I wonder where some of them went. And maybe it’s better that we don’t know. If suddenly a window opened and all of them came into view, the sadness would be too overwhelming.
The one thing that I hold onto are the memories. The hardships we shared. The times where someone was there to lend a hand or an ear. The brotherhood that comes from sharing struggles and triumphs. The sacrifice for both the sailors and their families. Sometimes, even an eternal sacrifice. The amazing things we did that we can never tell anyone outside of our circle that made us stronger men. One of the ways I have thought about it is that we are pretty good at overcoming being overcome. That’s pretty important when you remember that we rode boats that were designed by the government and built by the lowest bidder.
I am especially grateful for the Sub Vets Bases. There are few places that I can truly call home, but I include the Charlston Base one of them. For my submarine family, don’t forget to check in on each other from time to time. Hopefully you have a USSVI base nearby. Even more hopefully, you are active in the base.
Footnote: Looking at the picture that leads off the story, I am reminded that the submarine force is becoming more and more integrated, and women are taking an important role in the new navy. No disrespect was meant in focusing on the men I served with in my generation. I salute the bravery and dedication of all submariners. But when you look in the mirror of the past, you can only focus on what was there when you were there.
Mister Mac
Navy Hymn for Submariners
Bless those who served beneath the deep,
Through the lonely hours the vigil they had to keep,
May eternal peace their mission ever be,
Bless each one we ask of thee,
Comfort those who at home who waited and prayed,
For their return night and day.
theleansubmariner 