[Macgregor the Hammer]

There seems to be a lot of discussion about realism in play. I write stories about the captains and boats. This is my latest captain:

Captain Ian MacDonald
USS Thresher Personal Log

June 7, 1942
I was finally promoted to Lieutenant Commander. Promotion in the peacetime Navy was incredibly slow and these oak leaves have been a long time coming. The attack on Pearl has changed everything. Admiral Lockwood gave me the gold oak leaves himself.

I was relieved of my command of the USS Seal, a Salmon class boat. I then walked 2 piers down and relieved John Harrison of command of the USS Thresher, a Tambor class. John was promoted to the admiral’s staff. There were about 12 subs in Pearl and Admiral Lockwood wanted the captains to have dinner with him at the Royal Hawaiian hotel.
At dinner, he lined out the expectations of the submarine fleet. He emphasized now that the US Navy’s surface fleet would be out of commission for some time, we would have to be the ‘tip of the spear’ along with the air arm. The huge win at Midway made for high spirits. We finally felt we had the Nips on their heels. Our primary mission was to strangle raw materials. Warships would fair game too. The admiral wanted aggression with caution. He promised to get the Mark 14 issue solved and to provide us with whatever equipment and materials we needed. Admiral Lockwood was well liked in the sub community. During the light banter during dinner, there were numerous comments about my Scottish brogue. Though I have been in America since I was 12, it’s still rather thick. It caused problems at the Academy. I spoke briefly about my origins. I was born in Crinan, Scotland to a family of Herring fishermen. I moved to Maine when I was 12 and worked on my Uncle’s Cod boat. I attended the Academy and graduated in ‘32. Dinner wound down and now it was back to business.

June 8, 1942
The Thresher had spent a week in refit. The generators and electric motors were overhauled, a periscope mast seal replaced, a sonar transducer replaced and some work on the phone circuit was performed. At 0800, I walked up the gangplank, saluted the flag and asked the OOD for permission to come aboard. Clambering my way down the conning tower hatch I was hit with the smells of fresh paint, diesel fuel and disinfectant. The XO had the bilge flushed with freshwater and Lyster, which was a great idea. A boat can get pretty rank on a patrol. It was a nicer boat than the Seal. I found the XO Mike Ellison, clipboard in hand coming from the forward torpedo. He was the only officer on board except the OOD. I asked him to join me in the wardroom. I dismissed the mess boys to guarantee privacy. The Messboys have a habit of ‘being seen without being seen’ and probably the best source of information on the boat.

I sat down with Lieutenant Ellison for an impromptu chat about my expectations. I found Ellison very open minded and willing. I told him that I am always open to new ideas. We discussed the new crew members and how we needed to get them qualified. I ordered Mike to draft a training syllabus and we would review it together. I needed something better than the standard Navy training. We discussed the post overhaul sea trials. We didn’t really have the time so we would do what we could on our way to Midway, our new home. The crew would be returning from liberty tomorrow.

June 9, 1942
I had settled into my state room and walked through the boat. The crew was still in their whites waiting to be called to quarters. Conversation died down when I entered which was no surprise. I asked them if they had a good liberty and if the Royal Hawaiian Hotel was still standing. That got a laugh and relieved some tension. Admiral Lockwood had made the hotel available to submarine crews back from patrol. I dressed in my khakis with a jacket and told Mike to have the crew fall into quarters on the pier.
“Men, we are sailing into harm’s way with the intention of bringing the war to Japan’s doorstep. With most of our surface fleet out of commission; the submarine fleet, along with the air wing, are all that stands in the way of Japan’s expansionism and survival.
As you all know, Japan doesn’t have any natural resources, they’re dependent on their conquests to supply her war machine. We are going to change that!
I expect nothing but the absolute best in your performance of duties! Myself and your division heads will give you the best in leadership. We have an excellent boat! I had Mr. COB buy a brand new straw broom to hoist on our way back in!
We have stores and fish to load. Mr. D’Agostino, line up a battery charge. Mr. Ellison, dismiss the ship’s company and carry on with the plan of the day.

June 10, 1942
Set sail for Midway at 0600. Mild weather and smooth sailing. The crew changed into their ‘patrol uniform’: cut-off dungaree trousers and athletic shoes or sandals. I put on my cut-off wash khaki trousers, khaki shirt with cut-off sleeves and my black Converse high-tops. The shoes along with my grandmother's clan MacDonald scarf are my lucky charms. All submariners are superstitious.

The captain of a sub is a complicated roll. Part father figure, authoritarian and always decisive. My dress let them know I’m one of them; I am a true submariner and not some ‘skimmer pilot’. I made it a point to walk all compartments and talk to the enlisted. I read most of their personnel jackets, but I still make it a point to ask them where they're from, have they been getting their mail, etc. Mike Ellison was the XO on the last patrol and demonstrated his approval of me. He mentioned the Seal and my last patrol in the Aleutians. I sunk 6 merchants and 2 destroyers after the captain took ill. That gave me a considerable amount of credibility. John Harrison sunk 2 merchants on his last patrol. That’s why he was relieved; he didn’t have the aggression Admiral Lockwood was looking for. Before the war, subs were considered scout and recon ships. There are a number of skippers being relieved because they can’t adapt to this new role.

We started running drills. Gas alarm in the forward battery compartment, Flooding in aft torpedo, switch box fire with no lights, crash dive to 200 ft, emergency blow, emergency flank then emergency back, running submerged for 12 hours, loss of phone circuits, battle stations surface action, etc. This went on for 6 days. I wore them out. I believe in the axiom “Bleed in training, sweat in combat!” We pulled into Midway, topped off our fuel and I gave the crew 96 hours on the beach. Unfortunately, not much to do. The base was so new there wasn’t much recreation save a 4 can beer ration. I was given the final orders to be opened after 48 hours at sea. We depart at 0200 on the 20th.