Clear the Bridge! by Richard O'Kane Read Free Book Online Page B

put these scheduled drills on the shelf and move steadily into the routine we would follow when en route to a patrol area. If we now heard the words “Fire in the after engine room!” it would be no drill.
    Each night, shortly after the evening meal, a movie would start in the forward torpedo room, though it had to vie with a good library and acey-deucey. Toward midnight, the unmistakable aromaof fresh-baked bread would permeate the boat, and the on-going watch section would pass through the messroom, where a pile of hot rolls awaited.
    Walker, the steward on watch, brought a dozen or so to the wardroom. They were worth rolling out of my bunk for, and I joined Fraz, who couldn’t resist them either. I’m sure the navy’s doctors knew what constituted a balanced diet, but they had misjudged what a submariner would eat by a mile. On patrol it had turned out to be about twice the quantity of baked goods, in part because baking had to be done at night when the galley was available, so enough extra had to be baked for the watch sections.
    Our progress had been good even though we had to take one of the main engines off propulsion for a short time when charging batteries. During these periods, the auxiliary diesel made up some of the difference, and our overall speed suffered little. Thus, on the fourth night out of San Francisco, we crossed the 500-mile circle from Pearl Harbor; we reported as required to Commander Submarine Force, Pacific (ComSubPac) and requested a rendezvous point and escort for early morning two days from then.
    Molokai was in sight at dawn on January 8, and before 0800 we had our escort in sight a point on our port bow. Our passage through the Kaiwi Channel, between Molokai and Oahu, was fast and uneventful. Diamond Head was abeam to starboard when the chop of the channel suddenly stopped, and our ship steadied, as if entering a lake.
    “Rig ship for surface” and “Make all preparations for entering port” came over the 1MC just minutes apart. In the channel, the deck detail came topside and fell in at quarters on the forecastle. For many of our ship’s company, this was their first view of Pearl Harbor. They could see only the remnants of the December 7 disaster, for the seemingly impossible salvage was nearing completion. A right turn around ten-ten dock and a wide left turn around Sparrow Point brought
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to her berth at the submarine base. While the troops were busy with the dozens of tasks incident to arrival in port and making preparations for sailing the next day, I left the ship to make various courtesy calls.
    Courtesy calls are more than just the exercise of naval protocol, for they renew acquaintances and offer the senior, and sometimes the junior, the opportunity to speak what is on his mind in private. After a brief but cordial conversation with Vice Admiral Charles A. Lockwood, ComSubPac, I proceeded to the training command. The command had apparently been upgraded, for to my surprise, Captain John H. Brown, a practical, senior submariner greeted me.
    “Now what would the
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like to do, and does she need anything?” were his first questions after we’d gotten around to business. Things were looking up for our ship and the training command, too, since formerly boats were just told what to do. Fortunately, I had brought with me a proposed eight-day schedule, which also included a brief of our shakedown. It omitted any reference to our deep-deep dive and other maneuvers that were
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’s concern, but did show our many day and night approaches and the firing of over 40 exercise torpedoes.
    Captain Brown looked over the proposed operations, which were basic; our approaches were designed to cover the situations a boat would be most likely to encounter on patrol.
    “That looks good to me. Will you have Frazee work it up with operations?” said the captain. I was surprised that he knew the name of
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’s executive officer, but I shouldn’t have been. Knowing men was one of