These are very exciting times to be getting into the submarine service, which has never been a more vital part of our maritime force. As technology has made communication virtually instantaneous in a world that is almost completely interconnected, crises increasingly call for immediate responses. Patiently sitting off coastlines, quietly observing, and able to project power almost anywhere, the U.S. Navy’s submarine force has risen to the forefront as the first responders in nearly every modern engagement.
Those submarines are manned, I believe, by some of the finest officers and sailors in the Navy, made so by their steadfast dedication to the ship and the mission, and by their high level of technical expertise. Technology has changed the way submarines operate and the missions they perform, but it has not changed the role of the submarine officer: to protect the country, to keep the ship alive, and to lead and develop the best sailors in the Navy.
As a Class of 2011 submarine selectee preparing to report to nuclear-power school, I am reminded frequently of the book Iron Coffins, Herbert A. Werner’s personal account of his service as a submarine officer and captain during World War II. Maybe I shouldn’t like it as much as I do, considering Werner served in Nazi Germany’s navy, the Kriegsmarine, but I couldn’t put the book down until I had read it through, and it remains my favorite. Though he describes with unparalleled intensity and detail the thrill and adrenaline rush of the hunt, and the dangers and stench of depth-charge attacks, the power of his tale is in its deeply human aspects. He vents his frustration about incompetent or uncaring fellow officers, and he was always concerned with how to do his job better. Oberleutnant zur See Werner was driven by his love of country, and he fought to keep his men safe. What makes the book so compelling is the example Werner sets as a submarine officer. The sailors under his command knew that he was truly serving them.
Today’s submarine officer stands apart from his brethren of past decades in a number of ways. Gone are the messy diesel boats, with nuclear power and modern technology increasing the capabilities of submarines far beyond what the father of the modern submarine—John Holland—could have imagined. The 21st-century submarine officer is more likely to be planning missions against unseen land targets than lining up a nighttime attack run on a convoy. But what has really changed? Despite the fact he was on the opposing side, in a very different kind war than what we now face, Werner’s story still resonates. I see this as part of a larger historical narrative in terms of a naval officer.
It’s Much More than Technology
The Navy, by its nature, is a very technical service. We sail ships, and ships have always been very technical contraptions. Although a nuclear power plant consists of a bewildering array of pipes, conduits, and circuits, sailing ships of old were no less complex, with their acres of canvas and miles of lines. It takes years to master either ship in terms of safe navigation and utilizing their fighting abilities. Often, naval superiority has been the result of technological superiority. About half of the story of U.S. submarines in World War II, for example, centers around the development of an effective torpedo. With such a focus on technology, it’s easy to assume that it therefore sums up the essence of a naval officer. That is especially true of a submarine officer; after all, we don’t interview with Commander, Submarine Forces, we interview with Director, Naval Reactors. That said, it must also be remembered that what has remained constant are the sailors naval officers have been tasked to lead.
The submariner has always been the same. He has found his home beneath the waves, a place where man was never really meant to go. A World War II submariner driving toward the Japanese coast, a Cold War submariner patrolling frigid northern seas, or a modern submariner quietly observing the coastline of a dangerous foreign nation all would agree to the basic tenets of submarine life: Depth is safety. The mission is paramount. Expertise in the job is vital. Above that, though, the thing I suspect they all would value most is the forced camaraderie that those cramped spaces and secret missions require.
Half a century ago, the proudest achievement of Rear Admiral Maurice Rindskopf, the youngest submarine captain of World War II, was that none of his men earned a Purple Heart. Today, the promise our Naval Academy Commandant, Captain Robert E. Clark II, made to his men before they set off on patrol was that he would bring all of them home. The role of submarine officers throughout history has been to protect their country, to fight, and to keep their ship alive. Their concern has always been, first and foremost, their men. Those principles and attitudes, which I see reflected throughout the history of the submarine service, are what made me aspire to be a submarine officer.
Putting History into Perspective
In March 2011, the Navy found itself stationed off the coast of Africa. Those proud sailors and officers were away from their families in the name of defending freedom and supporting democracy. It was U.S. Navy submarines and ships that launched Tomahawk cruise missiles into Libya in support of a no-fly zone. But those waters are not unfamiliar to our ships; one of the first demonstrations of the American need to protect freedom overseas, the First Barbary War, took us to those same Mediterranean waters more than 200 years ago. Other wars and other crises have taken us back since. I don’t know if history repeats itself, but I think it reviews its notes every once in a while.
By necessity, the ways we handle the modern Libyan fight for freedom is different from the way we fought piracy in the days of sail. Stephan Decatur, transported to the USS Florida (SSGN-728), would find himself bewildered by the technology, tactics, and capabilities of that modern warship. But I think he would recognize the same sailors who fought for him, trained by years at sea, driven by patriotism, and having limitless capabilities.
The strength of the submarine officer is that his role has remained unchanged through the ages. With new and constant crises facing the world, and submarines in so many ways the most capable force the Navy owns, these vessels inevitably will be there as a part of history. But as a future submarine officer, I hope to never make the history books. I think no submariner truly does; theirs is a life underwater, unseen and undetected—some of their most important stories unknown even to their wives and children. But if I am remembered, I hope it is never for launching a nuclear missile in anger, or for joining those brave men still on eternal patrol. I hope it is for my role as a submarine officer, leading the finest sailors the Navy has to offer, helping them achieve personal success and helping them keep that ship and our country alive.