Several years ago, the Naval Institute was raising funds to convert part of the former Annapolis Naval Hospital into new headquarters for the organization. A financial angel named Jack Schiff stepped forward. He had been a naval officer during World War II and retained warm memories of his service during his postwar career as a businessman. He provided a substantial gift that made the difference in the organization being able to move into offices that represented a substantial upgrade over Preble Hall, the building that had served the purpose since 1939.
Such a donation brings naming rights, and frequently a donor seeks to have his own on a structure. Not so Jack Schiff. He was as modest as he was generous and asked that the modernized building be named Beach Hall in honor of Captain Edward L. Beach and his namesake son, whose nickname was Ned. It was an ideal way of personifying the Naval Institute’s mission and the USNI insignia, which features a crossed pen and sword. Each of the Beaches was both a warrior and widely published author.
The senior Beach graduated from the Naval Academy in 1888 and had wartime duty in both the Spanish-American War and World War I. He wrote 13 novels about imaginary young men in the Navy. His books doubtless inspired thousands of real individuals to seek naval service themselves.
Captain Ned Beach is much better known to today’s readers. He graduated from the academy in 1939 and became a noted submariner. Both the Trigger (SS-237) and Tirante (SS-420) had splendid wartime records because of his contributions. He later commanded four submarines, including the nuclear-powered Triton (SSN-586) during a submerged voyage around the world. Like his father, Ned wrote a series of books on naval topics. The best known is Run Silent, Run Deep, a novel of World War II submarine action.
As part of preparing for the dedication of Beach Hall in the spring of 1999, I had two assignments—putting together a plaque for the front of the building and assembling museum-type displays to commemorate the lives of the two Beaches. The first was more of a challenge, because I had zero background in plaquesmanship. For the displays I made a number of trips to visit Ned and his wife Ingrid in Washington. As he provided artifact after artifact, he related the story that went with each. It was a marvelous experience.
One of the items that Ned turned over for display was an unpublished manuscript titled From Annapolis to Scapa Flow, an autobiography that his father wrote 60 years ago. The Naval Institute Press just published the book, providing two benefits. Readers will get to know much more about the senior Beach, and they will have a personal view of the history of the Navy in the decades leading up to World War I. The senior Beach wrote with the observational and descriptive skills of a professional writer. And throughout the manuscript he demonstrated a puckish wit and charm. For instance, he served in the cruiser Baltimore (C-3) during the Battle of Manila Bay in 1898. That chapter he called “The Battle of Irwin’s Boots.” Ensign Noble Irwin, in charge of a group of 6-inch guns, was standing atop a hatch grating during the battle, so all Beach saw as he looked up from the engine room were the bottoms of Irwin’s boots.
Ned made a substantial contribution to this latest work as well, writing dozens of explanatory notes for the modern reader. Yet another facet reveals itself in this book, and that is the considerable similarity of father and son. Both were aggressive, utterly dedicated to the naval service, and possessed considerable courage. Both of them eagerly sought the challenges of combat, and both felt free to express their opinions to seniors whom they felt were wrong.
For several years, Ned told me he had one more book in mind. His last was to be a novel, told through the format of oral history. The fictitious oral history interviewer, asking question after question of a retired submariner, was to be called “Staul Pillwell,” a transposition of my name. In fact, that became Ned’s teasing nickname for me. Sadly, Ned Beach, who has fought so many battles, died on 1 December from liver cancer. As he spent his final months, he did not have sufficient strength for one more book. But that book is not necessary. Through the way he lived, through the way he emulated the father he so much admired, and through his many writings, we already have a rich legacy from the man.