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From the book WAHOO by Richard O Kane.

During USS Wahoo's second patrol under command of Marvin G. Kennedy, an I Class submarine(I-15) was spotted, General Quarters were called by the bell and the Captain, who had been in the shower rushed to the conning tower still soapy and wet, wearing only the towel wrapped around his waist.The Captain began his observations, calling bearing, range and AOB, twisting the scope, moving around for good look at target when the towel did it's own version of "down scope", falling off into the periscope well.

The Captain, quite unperturbed, continued his observations "naked as a jaybird" until the mess attendant arrived with pants and a shirt.:haha:

The Wahoo soon fired on the I-15 and sank it.

Quote:

Originally Posted by DaveyJ576 (Post 1206057)

Ok, here is a real no shi**er!

On board the old USS Darter (SS-576) one of my best friends was Big Mike, a MM2 in the A-gang who was well known as being a heavy sleeper. One day while underway off Japan, Big Mike was passed out in his rack in the after battery crews berthing, clad only in his white scivvie shorts as the temp in berthing tended to run well into the 80's. Another of the A-gangers, Eric, was a stocky, sandy haired youth from northern Minnesota who also happened to be an inveterate practical jokester. Passing through berthing, he noticed Mike passed out on his back and immediately a evil thought ran through his head. Hurrying into the galley, he talked one of the cooks out of a small bottle of red food dye and proceeded back to Mike's rack. Barely able to hold back his laughter, Eric commenced to squirt the red dye all over the crotch and front of Mike's white scivvie shorts.

Eric went about his business, laughing hysterically to himself and barely able to wait for the inevitable. About two hours later, Big Mike wakes up for watch and heads aft to the head to shave. Stepping into the light he looks down and is utterly horrified to find what appears to be a massive blood stain on the front of his shorts. Fearing that there was something seriously wrong with him, he hurredly throws on his coveralls and heads forward to the goat locker to get our only corpsman, Chief Grant. They both head back to the head, which doubled as Doc's makeshift sickbay. Now Doc Grant was a salty old SOB, but never in his life had he seen anyone bleed that much from his privates.

Imagine the scene: Big Mike standing in the head with his coveralls and scivvies on the deck around his ankles and Doc Grant sitting on a stool making a thorough examination. About this time Eric stumbles by the head, barely able to walk as he was laughing so hard. Irritated and wondering what the ******* was so damned funny, Doc and Big Mike look up to see Eric standing in the doorway holding the food dye bottle in his hand, tears running down this cheeks and doubled up in laughter!

Submarine sailors are the William Shakespeares of the swearing world, renowned throughout the fleet as true masters of the dirty word. That day, however, Big Mike set a new high water mark in cussin', as the epithets that roared out of his mouth nearly blistered the paint on the bulkhead. Doc Grant just sighed loudly, leaned back on his stool, and wondered about the sanity of the knuckleheads he went to sea with.

As for Eric's fate at the hands of Big Mike, let's just say that revenge is a dish best served cold! :D

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Originally Posted by Bubblehead1980 (Post 1207255)

:har::har::har::wah::wah::wah::haha::haha::haha::h ar::har::har::wah::wah:

All right, are we going to let this thread die, or are we going to post silly stories until everyone barfs? I shall make the supreme sacrifice and cough up another story....

Why is a lousy idea to give a submarine a job other than that of sinking enemy shipping? Well, quite simply because the average submariner is so focused on his job he can't be bothered with thinking about anything else, including the value of a 26 pound gold ingot...

Quote:

REMEMBER THIS USS TROUT?
Early in the war many submarines were assigned various "auxiliary" jobs. One of these fell to the Trout (Fenno), taking ammo. to Corregidor. After most of her torpedoes and ballast were removed, Trout took on over 3500 3" AA shells and delivered them to Corregidor. After unloading the ammunition and taking in ten additional torpedoes and 27000 gallons of fuel oil, it was discovered that Trout needed additional ballast to replace that left at Pearl. The CO requested twenty-five tons of sand bags, but this was denied since there was an urgent need for sand bags at Corregidor. Instead of sand, Trout took on twenty tons of gold and silver, which had been removed from Manila for safekeeping. Upon arrival at Pearl, when the bullion was unloaded, it was discovered that a gold bar, worth $14,500 was missing. A thorough search of the boat finally turned up the missing bar; it was found in the galley where one of the cooks was using it as a paperweight.

True story courtesy of the United States Submarine Veterans of World War II.

I don't want this thread to die but we seem to be with a couple others, only posters.Having said that, i'll add a story soon...

I got this one from the book "Pigboat 39" by Bobette Gugilotta.This book details the S-39 in Manila during the pre-war days, after December 7 and her grounding in August 1942 near the Solomon Islands.The author's husband was an Officer aboard the 39 before and after Pearl Harbor.

Anyway, while patroling Albay Gulf in the Philippines in the days after Pearl Harbor, the Captain of S-39, James W. Coe was looking for a way to attack Japanese ships at night.This was before the night surface attack was even part of the training for US sub crews, so they did not have a TBT.This was before US subs had "night scopes" Unlike fleetboats, they did not have activate sonar.So Coe came up with the idea that Guy Gugliotta(author's husband) would take his role as gunnery/torpedo officer to the limit.

Coe decided that the S-39 would submerge and Gugliotta would sit atop the radio mast, use binoculars to sight target and use a crude com system to rely target information.The plan never materialized though, which pleased Gugliotta very much.

"This was before the night surface attack was even part of the training for US sub crews, so they did not have a TBT"

Indeed at this point in time Navy doctrine insisted that attacks be done not only submerged, but were to be conducted by sonar only! :timeout:
This explains the lack of both TBT and night scopes. They got over this bit of silliness pretty quickly however.

Here ya go Bubblehead.
Thought you guys might find this interesting.
In 1977 I was stationed on a Knox Class Frigate. Being a Gunners Mate working on an anti-submarine rocket launcher (ASROC),I was in A/S Division which put me standing watch in Sonar Control when underway.
We were undergoing refresher training out of GITMO. During ASW Week we had a US Fast Attack Sub to play war with. I was hanging out in sonar control watching, when a sonar tech named Paul announced he had a contact.The 1st class sonar tech confirmed it and they sent the contact info to sonar's version of fire control in CIC. They simulated firing ACROC on the contact. Then we sent a message to our sub that we had just killed him. He sent a message back that we had missed, not even close. Paul gets upset, won't let it go, he had found a sub dammit! Then the parade began. Our Senior Chief Sonar Tech, A/S Division Officer, the Weapons Officer, XO, Captain all came by for a look. All agreed it was a sub.
We sent another message to the our sub, he took a look at where we said there was a contact.He sent us a message back,"know what guys, there's another sub over there"!
By this time the Soviet sub who had been spying on our little wargame decided the jig was up and he took off with our sub right on his heels.
Our Capt is in sonar, all pumped up. The OOD shows up at Sonar and tells the Capt he has given the contact to our sub. The Capt nearly screams, "you did WHAT!?!? the OOD is shrinking, he says,"sir that's the correct procedure" The Capt is sputtering and shaking, I think getting ready to jump down the OOD's throat and start chewing on something from the inside, when the XO tells him it is indeed proper procedure. The Capt cools off, he doesn't like it, but he cools down.
We had to wait a few days for another sub to come play war with us after that.
Fun and games during the Cold War.

Again, from Polaris, the official newsletter of the United States Submarine Veterans of World War II. We often complain about nonsensical behavior of escorts during the game, colliding with each other and other stupid behavior that would NEVER happen in real life :D

Quote:

REMEMBER THIS USS TAMBOR?
On the morning of June 5, 1942, at 0215 Tambor (Murphy) was patrolling about 89 miles off Midway when she sighted four large warships. Forewarned that US warships may be in the area, Tambor trailed the formation on a parallel course as she tried to positively identify them. A contact report was sent out at 0300 and as visibility increased slightly, the four were definitely identified as the Japanese heavy cruisers, Sozuyat, Kumanot, Mikuma, and Mogami. With the approach of dawn Tambor was forced to dive. On her next look through the periscope, only two cruisers were in sight, one with a badly damaged bow, and rapidly retreating. At about the time Tambor saw them, they also sighted Tambor. In an emergency turn to the left to avoid Tambor the Mogami rammed Mikuma on the port quarter while making full speed.

OOPS!:har:

One day were going to re-fuel underway next to a carrier. A junior officer is OOD. His first time at underway replenishment. We come in very smartly to the carrier from the starboard side aft. The band on the carrier strikes up a jaunty tune.... We never slow down and cruise right on by the carrier and very smartly, exit to the starboard forward. :yeah:

:haha: Thanks for the posts guys.

Another story from the book "Pigboat 39" Not exact words from book but here is the jest of it.

In the Spring of 1941 a torpedoman from the 39 boat wanted some leave to see his girl in Manila and hit the local watering holes, but the XO was rather strict would not cut him any slack, looked like he would have to stay aboard until his turn to leave the boat.So the sailor talked it over a while with a fellow sailor and decided he was inform the XO he was going for a circumscion, since the doc had recomended on at his last visit.Of course, the sailor would require a few days off to recover before returning to the 39 and resuming his duties.

The rather cocky torpedoman entered the XO's office(wardroom) and requested leave to have the procedure done.The XO then called on the Yeoman and told him he was to escort the sailor to the hospital in Manila and to escort him back aboard the 39.Needless to say, this left the sailor in a tight spot.

The Yeoman was under orders and would get keelhauled if he did not follow through, the sailor could not go back now or the XO would know he was bullsh*ting him, so the sailor reported to the hospital, had the procedure done and recovered aboard the S-39 under watchful eye of the stern XO.A Homer Simpson "DOHH!!" is in order for that one :damn:

:har::haha:

Again, I fall back on the real guys who were there, the ONLY ones who can tell the stories that really matter. This one found at Paul Wittmer's site, http://www.subvetpaul.com/Stowaway.htm.

Quote:

A Stowaway On The USS POGY

By W.E. Battenfield

Published in POLARIS Feb. 1986

Quote:

(Battenfield was at Pearl Harbor that fateful morning on December 7, 1941. Following the bombing, he requested submarine duty. He served throughout World War II. This story is about his sixth war patrol duty. It happened aboard the USS POGY under Skipper Lt. Cmdr. Ralph Metcalf. Following the war he and his wife, Juanita, and sons Gary and Glenn settled in Chouteau, Oklahoma. Years later his efforts contributed much to getting the USS BATFISH dry docked at Muskogee, Oklahoma.)

The USS POGY carried a stowaway rat as it left Pearl Harbor in 1944. I'm not referring to the 2-legged kind we sometimes meet in the human species. I'm talking about the 4-legged furry rodent.

"How can that happen?" I hear you ask knowing the customary fumigation procedure prior to every submarine patrol. The "Brass" know all too well dangers of epidemics breaking out in the close quarters of submarine life. They do a thorough job of making our quarters hospital clean. How could the tiniest germ survive, much less a rat?

I was on board the Pogy, also, as it left the security of Pearl Harbor April 7, 1944. It was my 6th war patrol. Unfortunately I was to be the sole submariner to catch sight of the furry creature until near the end of the tour in enemy waters.

Any submariner also knows the risk of ending up on a psychiatrist's couch. Danger and constant anxiety of being hit by an enemy's depth charge plus claustrophobia cause a percent to go over the brink of sanity. Too many men inhabiting too small a space, submerged at great depths for safety reasons take its toll. Only a fellow submariner can imagine the ribbing I took after announcing my first sighting. All agreed only borderline lunatics could sight rats on a submarine.

It was a hectic patrol for the Pogy. We left Pearl Harbor with the usual amount of fuel, torpedoes, and provisions plus tame rabbits and rabbit food to be delivered at Midway Island. Four days later the rabbits and food were unloaded for the officer in charge of the Hospital at Midway. He requested the rabbits to be used as a fresh meat supply source.

Two days later we were told we would be patrolling off the coast of Japan. We reached our station on April 21. The air was full of enemy Japanese planes. On the second day we were spotted while surfacing. I was on watch in the forward torpedo room when the diving alarm sounded. We dived, suddenly! I caught sight of movement under the inboard torpedo skid but couldn't tell what it was.

Five days later, after dark on April 28, we surfaced and caught sight of a Japanese submarine that was also surfaced. We ran ahead so we could get a battery charge. Soon after midnight on the 29th, we fired three torpedoes and sank the enemy submarine.

Later as we reloaded torpedoes, I again saw the big rat. I pointed and yelled, "There's that rat!" As luck would have it, no other person saw it.

About a week later we were patrolling off Kobie, Japan. We spied a Japanese merchant ship. We manned stations, submerged, and scored a hit. We were forced down deeper and deeper to avoid the 31 depth charges that followed. As depth charges rocked our submarine, the shock scared the rat from port side to starboard side and back again.

Despite being under orders for silent running, I yelled, "There he goes!" Again no one saw him. The crew began staring at me with strange looks. The after torpedo room called asking if my rat was brown or white and did he have long rabbit ears.

It was obvious my shipmates feared I was over the brink from battle fatigue. Statistically, 20% of submariners do have problems. Dangers from combat and claustrophobia are real threats to sanity. I resolved to catch that rat and prove at this point I still had all my marbles.

I reverted to the old bird trapping method of boyhood. I found a small square metal box, propped it up on a stick on one side and placed cheese bait underneath. I tied a cord to the stick. As I stood my 4-hour watches, I held the cord in my hand, eyes glued on the trap, ready to yank the cord and entrap my elusive rodent. No rat showed but plenty of the crew members came to the torpedo room door to watch my fruitless efforts. After three or four watches, I gave up the idea. Every time I met a shipmate I anticipated and usually heard some smart remark about my rat.

On May 9 we went to battle stations on a Japanese Tanker. As we were making our approach a plane dropped a couple of depth charges. Again I saw my rat. As the charges shook the submarine, the rat hurriedly changed his hiding place. Again I yelled, "There's the rat!" I should have known better. No one else saw it. Now everyone was sure I was pressure happy.

A week later we sank another Japanese ship and took five prisoners aboard. Three were placed in the forward torpedo room and two in the after torpedo room. We made bunks for them in the empty torpedo skids.

Our prisoners of war broke routine on the Pogy. At first the men refused to eat, probably fearing poisoning. I took a bite from the food being offered, smiled at them, indicating it was safe. They, too, ate and by the time we turned them over to the marines at Pearl Harbor, each had gained about ten pounds.

One Japanese lost his glasses and had difficulty seeing. I gave him my magnifying glass and a white hat. He followed me wherever I went. He went along when I stood watch. He used the magnifying glass and looked at magazines while I was on duty. One night the rat came in full view. I punched the Japanese companion and pointed. He, too, saw the rodent. I was happy until I learned our language barrier made it impossible for him to be a witness for me. I gave up. Meanwhile I put food and water out for the stowaway. I didn't want a dead rat stinking up the sleeping quarters where thirteen of us slept.

My Japanese friend admired his hat. He followed me everywhere. I taught him to salute and say, "Tojo barks at the moon." He saluted right and left as was convenient, repeating his English words. This lasted only until a fellow prisoner put a stop to it and my English lessons. The other prisoner had been in San Francisco and knew far more English than he pretended -

Chief Torpedoman Prinskie had problems with regularity. Every Monday morning while routining torpedoes he'd mix a little coffee and torpedo juice. (Torpedo juice is 180 proof alcohol mixed with pink lady and croton oil.) A Japanese watching asked, "Sake?" I nodded yes and repeated, "Sake." I fixed him a good drink. He wanted more. After four or five he was so happy he began singing. I made him get in his bunk bed fearing an officer might come forward and see him. After 30 or 45 minutes in bed he came out of it like a cat with turpentine on his tail. He ran screaming what I understood to be, "Bonzi, bonzi!", the Japanese word for "Charge!".

While standing watch in the forward torpedo room with prisoners aboard we were armed with a 45. I was standing by the wash basin when this screaming Japanese headed straight for me. Before I could get my 45 out, he ran right by me and out of the forward battery. I called to another torpedoman to follow him. He headed straight for the head (toilet). My shipmate said he would sit a while, then heave a while. He was really yelling, "Benjo!", Japanese word for "toilet." I now knew two words in Japanese.

When Chief Prinskie prepared his next coffee royal, I offered some to the Japanese. He didn't want any.

On May 19 we went to battle station and surfaced on a Japanese Patrol Boat. Torpedoman Carbonary and I were alone in the forward room with the prisoners. We ordered them into their bunks. The others were topside on the guns. Carbonary was armed with a 24 inch pipe wrench. I had the 45.

I was wearing the battle phone headset and was giving Carbonary a blow by blow description of topside action. Every time our 5" 25 fired, the rat would change hiding places. At last another crew member had seen the rat. When the battle station order was over, I had Carbonary inform the rest of the crew there really was a rat. We concluded he came aboard in the rabbit feed, escaped, and wasn't unloaded when the feed was left at Midway Island.

A few days later we headed for Pearl Harbor by way of Midway. At Pearl Harbor we turned the prisoners over to the marines. Some were reluctant to leave, wishing to stay with us.

Our new order was great news. We were going stateside, to Hunters Point, San Francisco for major overhaul. I didn't see the rat again. We turned the sub over to the yard workers. I was in the first leave party. I checked on the rat when I got back. Apparently he got ashore and was enjoying stateside duty after the harrowing experience on a fighting submarine. His descendants are probably still bragging about their famous ancestor's adventures on the Pogy.

Sorry! Have to post another one from Richard Dixon, veteran of 12 cruises on three submarines under five captains during the war. This is most likely from the Tinosa Blatt, publication of his last boat:

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Some of the subs actually used their SJ radar to make their torpedo attacks with good success. On Albacore, while submerged, we used our sound gear to track what was believed to be a Japanese submarine. The man on the sound gear counted the Rpm's of the screws and pinged the target for ranges. After tracking our target for about three hours, we fired three fish from the forward room. Waiting until dusk we surfaced to see what we could find at the spot of the explosion. All we found in the water was a lot of whale blubber. I don't know what the captain put in his log book at that time, but when I talked to him about it, years later, while at New London, he still told me I couldn't put a whale on our battle flag.

At jokerl90, i was an AX in a heavy ASW helicopter squadron back in the late '70s, we were doing exercises with one of our attack subs, got mass confusion with different ranges and bearings from the six helos trying to locate the sub. Turned out two more had joined the party, another one of our subs and a Brit sub who had been stalking each other in the area, each thinking the other was a Russki and both wondering who the third guy was.

:salute:

As for the Mogami, that's one of the mysteries I never figured out - "Miracle at Midway" mentions the Mogami colliding with her sister ship, "Battle for Leyte Gulf" mentions Mogami colliding with the flagship in THAT battle. No mention if it was the same ship or a different one with the same name, or if there was some defect in the design of the rudder or steering gear, did she have the same helmsman for both collisions and was he a spy for our side?

:arrgh!:

The whale story seems a bit 'fishy' to me. Interesting yarn, but I don't believe it for a second.