Somewhere, a retired old fighting boat (we don't call them ships), or what's left of her, is cruising on the surface of the prairie, a monument to the brave and somewhat crazy men who manned the nuclear powered fast attack submarines of the United States Navy. The sail (or as they once were called, conning tower) of the USS LAPON (SSN661) was saved from the scrap-yards by the efforts of a dedicated group of veterans and installed as a monument in Branson, Missouri in July of 2005. A large group of alumni, including four Commanding Officers, attended the dedication ceremony. Yours truly, THE Michael, who served aboard her in the early seventies as a yeoman, unfortunately was unable to attend. Still, kept up to date thru the organizations website, I was able to be there in spirit, remembering my three odd years of service aboard that fine submarine. The big "E"'s that you see on the sail are the commendations the boat earned during her illustrious career, the details of which still remain classified, although you can probably find out how they were earned by reading the book "Blind Man's Bluff", which illustrated some of the daring missions this boat is famous for, albeit in an un-admitted manner as far as the Defense Department is concerned. Most of this history occurred during the cold war, and while the Vietnam conflict garnered most of the attention, there was another war going on beneath the waves that most Americans are still pretty much ignorant of, but was just as vital to the security of our nation. These guys are truly an example of a collection of "unsung heroes" who will never get their measure of respect compared to the results of their service. Although I fully respect the hell that those brave boys in the rice patties of Southeast Asia endured, neither was submarine service a piece of cake. It was DANGEROUS, long periods of mundane boredom punctuated with periods of pure adrenaline if not outright terror, and chances were that if ANYbody died, EVERYbody died, as the tragedies of the USS SCORPION and USS THRESHER aptly demonstrated. It truly took a special breed of sailor to endure being cooped up in a steel cylinder for up to a month at a time, (ballistic missile submarines routinely patrol for months at a time), cruising around in places we might not be welcomed, at depths that tested the construction of our hulls, and not seeing the light of day except perhaps by a lucky glance thru a periscope. The bunking left a lot to be desired, even if you rated your own personal bunk (as in sleeping quarters), but I do have to admit the food was generally the best the Navy had to offer, which was good, considering that any one of those meals could very well have been our last. Then there's those periods approaching the end of long patrols when people started running out of cigarettes! You think Buffalo sounds ornery, imagine being in close quarters with 70 odd other guys just like him having a nicotine fit! I think that paints an adequately scary picture!
Well, I am extremely proud to have a connection with that odd monument cruising the surface of the prairie. Looking back, knowing what I know now, would I do it all again? You're damn STRAIGHT I would! Only I would have taken a lot more pride in what I was doing as a young sailor aboard one of the finest submarines ever to run silent, run deep!
3 comments:
You are a better man than me, Michael. The claustrophobia alone would have done me in. It took a lot of courage to serve that way and in a war most of never knew about.
My father served on the USS Orion, a Submarine Tender, at the end of World War II. I remember him talking about how it took a special breed of men to serve in the submarines.
I haven't known you long, but I am proud to know you.
Why thanks, Tim.
Lights, I had no idea that psychic vulcan nerve pinch I used on you would actually work! hehe.....thanks for the heads up.
It takes a special man to do that... a good man. I too am very claustrophobic and don't think I would be able to do that. Great post, thanks for sharing.
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