by Don Keith
By the beginning of World War I, submarines of considerable size and shape had been developed. The periscope, invented by Simon Lake and perfected by Sir Howard Grubb, gave submariners a big advantage. It allowed crew members finally to be able to peek above the surface and watch their quarry while still remaining mostly hidden from view. Using a periscope, a sub could stalk its prey, calculate its movement, and launch weapons, all without ever revealing any more of itself than a skinny pole that stuck out of the water.
The torpedo also became available as a significant nautical weapon. “Torpedo” was no longer defined as simply an explosive charge delivered on a spar. It became a device that was self-powered and could be hurled through the water toward a target from considerable distance.
Submarine propulsion systems also grew more sophisticated. Gasoline and diesel engines had evolved and were becoming reliable sources of momentum for the boats so long as they remained on the surface. The engines could be used not only for propulsion but also to charge new, more advanced banks of storage batteries. Those could then be employed when the vessel was running beneath the surface.
By 1912, all U.S. Navy submarines used diesel engines and batteries. Diesel engines seemed to serve the purpose better than regular gasoline power plants. They required no complicated sparking systems and produced fewer dangerous fumes. The batteries already emitted more than their share of volatile gases, so it was good that diesels were developed that were less dangerous than gasoline engines.
While the United States had two dozen submarines in its fleet at the start of World War I, they were used primarily to patrol harbors and escort ships on short runs. They were seen as defensive weapons at best, and rather ugly, slimy ones at that.
It took the Germans and their U-boats to prove the value of submersible vessels as offensive weapons, perfectly capable of contributing to any navy’s war on the high seas. Their toll in the First World War was staggering.
Still, there were mixed opinions among U.S. Navy brass after the war. There was doubt about the wisdom of devoting limited resources to building a big fleet of submarines. Some felt the navy should be concentrating instead on battleships and the new darling of the brass, the aircraft carrier. They were convinced that these would be the most useful warships should our country be forced to go to war again.
Submarines? Too slow. Too small. Too dangerous.
Even so, a number of better submarines were designed and built, primarily at the historic shipyard at Portsmouth, New Hampshire. The first American naval warship was built there in 1690, before it was even a formal government shipyard. President Thomas Jefferson so designated it in 1800. In the 1930s, Portsmouth turned out the first all-welded-hull sub, the USS Pike (SS-173). With her much stronger hull, the Pike was able to dive to greater depths than ever before. At the same time, the thick steel offered better protection from the depth charge, the primary antisubmarine weapon of the time.
Sonar was also perfected between the wars, and experiments were conducted using the first radar systems. Sonar uses transmitted and reflected underwater sound waves to detect and locate submerged objects or to measure distances. Most people recognize its distinctive “pinging” sound from submarine movies. It was and remains today a major tool used by submariners. The sonarman spends much of his time on duty listening, not only to the pings of his equipment but to the other sounds of the deep. He can tell an amazing amount of detail about another vessel in the vicinity just by listening.
Radar, on the other hand, uses radio signals to detect objects at a distance. That technology would continue to evolve during World War II, and the use of more sophisticated radar on all fronts—including aboard submarines—would be a key element in the Allies’ eventual victory.
The U.S. Navy had a relatively small fleet of submarines at the time of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. Still, their impact was felt quickly and mightily. Only one month after the attack on Pearl Harbor, and operating under orders to observe unrestricted warfare, the USS Pollack (SS- 180) sank a Japanese freighter just outside of Tokyo Bay. That was only the first of many.
By the end of the war, American submarines had sunk over half of the entire Japanese merchant fleet, whether civilian traffic or warships. That success played a major part in how the war turned out. The submarines deprived Japanese industry of fuel and raw materials and did their part to shut down Japan’s economy, strangling their war effort.
Most historians note that one of the primary reasons for Japan’s imperialistic expansion throughout the Pacific Rim in the years leading up to the war was a quest for natural resources. They had precious few on the Home Islands and believed they would never be a major world power without access to them. American submarines were the primary force that kept the Japanese from taking advantage of the spoils from the lands they had conquered.
Just before World War II, those who felt our country needed a different type of submarine were able to hold sway, and development began on a new kind of submersible warship. Submarine construction jumped from a few boats per year in the mid-1930s to seventy-one vessels on the drawing board for completion in 1941. The prototype for this new breed of submersible vessel was the USS Gato (SS-212), a 312-foot-long ship, displacing about two thousand tons. This dynamic, sophisticated plunging boat would be able to drive farther, dive deeper, carry more fire-power, accept a larger contingent of sailors, and keep her crew safer and more comfortable than any other war machine ever constructed by man. She may have been ugly to some, but to the admirals who knew its potential, the Gato-class submarine was a thing of beauty.
As designed, the Gato would be able to cruise 11,400 miles without refueling. She could carry twenty-four deadly torpedoes. Later in the war, the USS Balao (SS-285) became the template for a newer, better boat. She was almost identical in design to the Gato except for a thicker hull, allowing her and her sisters to dive over a hundred feet deeper and withstand an even more frenzied depth charging.
The most advanced boats used in World War II were the Tench class. Only a relative few of those were launched and fewer still saw action before the war came to an end. The atomic bomb brought the war to a close before a significant number of those advanced subs could be deployed.
It may be noted that it was often months between the launch date and the commissioning of a boat. That is because there was a lot to do to get both the vessel and her crew ready for what they would face in the war. The launch typically occurred as soon as the boat was deemed able to safely float. Then it was another considerable period of time before it actually arrived in the Pacific theater and began its first war patrol. There were sea trials to perform, torpedo tests to conduct, and a crew to train and qualify for submarine duty.
The launch was a formal ceremony, usually with a navy band, a group of dignitaries, an assortment of naval officers, and a person—almost always a woman—who was designated the “sponsor” of the boat. Sponsors ranged from the First Lady of the United States to the wives of lowly yard workers. Her job was to christen the vessel by loudly announcing the name as she broke a bottle of champagne across the bow. At that moment, chocks were removed and the sub slid down a gangway into the water, usually with an impressive splash that looked good on the newsreels. A skeleton crew aboard the boat guided her along as tugs nudged her toward a new slip. There work continued until she was fully ready for sea trials.
Once she was ready, another formal ceremony took place—the commissioning—when the sub was officially put into service, her crew lined up along the deck in dress uniforms, saluting as the new skipper took command of his boat. But she was still not yet ready for war. There was much training to do, sea trials to complete, a shakedown period to finish.
Part of that shakedown included a visit to the torpedo test range in Narragansett Bay at Newport, Rhode Island. There the crew practiced lining up on practice targets that were towed behind ships, entering information into the TDC (torpedo data computer), and loading and firing torpedoes. The process
not only helped the crew get used to their new vessel and to each other, but it tested the boat’s torpedo handling and firing systems. The boat also had to complete a number of dives to various depths and verify her readiness to do those kinds of operations quickly and under adverse conditions.
All along, members of the crew who were not already qualified in submarines were learning, practicing, working toward that goal. During the war, the navy attempted to crew subs with a mix of qualified, experienced sub sailors and those recently graduated from sub school. Officers, too, were sometimes experienced and sometimes new blood. A brand-new skipper was, whenever possible, teamed with an experienced executive officer (XO).
Sub sailors were (and still are) required to graduate from submarine school, where they combined classroom learning with actual onboard training, but they were not finished yet. When they got aboard their first boat, they had to be trained until they could pass a rigorous examination in order to verify that they could take any station on a vessel and perform each job in a satisfactory manner. Once they passed their qualification exam, they were awarded a patch or pin that showed two dolphins, nose to nose. One of a sub sailor’s proudest days was when he received his “twin dolphins” and could wear them on his dress uniform. The alternative for those who were not able to pass within a reasonable time was to be assigned to other duty. Incidentally, that procedure is still in place today on nuclear submarines.
Finally, months after the launch of the sub, orders were given and the sub and her new crew were off on patrol.
Though they may look primitive to us today in comparison to modern, nuclear-powered vessels, the fleet-type submarine that was sliding down the launch skids in places like Portsmouth, New Hampshire; Manitowoc, Wisconsin; Groton, Connecticut; and Mare Island, California, was a marvel in its time. And the men who were being trained to crew those boats were destined to be a special breed of submariner.
The first thing most people notice about boats of the Gato and Balao class when they visit one of the museum boats—at least those that have been taken out of the water—is how much bigger the submarines look than they imagined. The fact is, when afloat, most of the boat is below water, like an iceberg, with only the decks, the top of the conning tower, the bridge, and the shears visible. The shears are the radio and radar antennas, periscope housings, searchlight, flagpoles, and lookout stands. They tower above the bridge and give these vessels their distinctive look.
The next thing that strikes visitors is how cramped and confining the interior compartments of the boats are compared to how massive they look from outside. Diesel tanks and ballast tanks, designed to withstand tremendous water pressure, make up the vessel’s bulk. For the range these subs had to be able to travel, they carried a huge amount of diesel fuel in their tanks. And the actions of diving and surfacing require ballast tanks that may be flooded and vented, using thousands of gallons of seawater and compressed air in the process.
Fourteen of the World War II submarines that are open to the public are either Balao- or Gato-class vessels. Two of them are Tench-class boats. Even those are very similar in design to their predecessors, but offered improved internal machinery and a better ballast tank arrangement. And one, of course, is a German U-boat, but that one still followed many of the same principles of design as the American boats.
All were about the length of a football field including one end zone, about twenty-seven feet wide at the broadest point, capable of safely diving to four hundred feet (though most went deeper, whether accidentally or on purpose), and able to steam at twenty knots while they were on the surface and at almost nine knots when submerged.
These boats typically carried six to eight officers and between sixty and seventy enlisted men. When you tour one of these vessels, imagine over six dozen men living and working together in the confines of those tiny compartments. And imagine them doing so for two months while rarely being able to climb the ladders and spend time on the narrow, slick decks. And imagine having to do that without touching land while on patrol in enemy waters, in seas that were often storm-tossed, and while under threat from surface ships, aircraft, floating mines, and other submarines.
Of course, these vessels were designed to be warships. Their jobs were to observe, look for enemy shipping lanes, perform lifeguard duty, deliver men and equipment into hostile places, and do about anything else they were called upon to do. But primarily, they were built to blow things up.
They were especially well equipped for that purpose. In addition to torpedoes, the submarines had various other weapons on their decks, including machine guns and small cannons. The captain usually had the opportunity to choose what type deck guns he wanted on his boat. Despite the assumption by many that subs only did their damage with torpedoes, many enemy vessels were damaged and destroyed using the boats’ deck guns. They were used quite often in furious, close-range combat.
These vessels were powered on the surface by four diesel engines, but they did not actually turn the screws (or propellers, much like those on a typical motorboat, though much larger). The engines provided power directly to two electric motors that were, in turn, attached to twin screws that drove them through the water. Those big diesel engines also were used to charge huge banks of storage batteries that were located in two separate compartments in the sub’s belly. The batteries provided electricity for the motors so the boat could run quietly and without smoke when she was submerged. They also provided power for all the boat’s systems, lights, radios, radar, and the like.
That is why this type of submarine is often referred to as being an “electric boat” in one breath and a “diesel boat” in the next. And why one major builder of these vessels, one that continues to build nuclear-powered subs to this day, is named the Electric Boat Company.
For most people, the most recognizable part of a World War II submarine is her “sail,” the structure that sticks up above the deck amidships. The outside portion of the sail contains the bridge, the platform where the captain or OOD (officer of the deck) and another officer usually stood while the boat was operating on the surface.
The shears are the part of the boat that reaches above the bridge, where the perch for young, sharp-eyed lookouts is located. Another platform, often called the cigarette deck, curves around behind the sail. That deck and another small platform just in front of the bridge typically held antiaircraft guns. Some of the submarines on display as museum boats have either original or authentic deck guns installed for your consideration. Others no longer have them.
Those weapons were important. Airplanes were mortal enemies of submarines. A visual or radar sighting of any aircraft usually sent the crew scrambling to get the boat beneath the surface of the sea as quickly as possible. Amazingly, this could usually be accomplished, under ideal conditions and with an experienced crew, in less than forty seconds.
But if the submarine were caught on the surface, those guns were needed for self-defense. Other deck guns were used in attacks against smaller surface ships, picket sampans (Japanese fishing boats used to observe and report Allied shipping and bomber activity), and floating mines. They were also manned when the sub approached lifeboats, rafts, or swimmers in the water—enemy personnel who may have survived an attack. The sub crews never knew when the men in those lifeboats might open fire on them.
A watertight hatch from the submarine’s bridge leads down a short ladder to a compartment called the conning tower. This small room is where the OOD controlled the boat when she was submerged. It contains controls for running the ship, including controlling her steering and motor speed. There is intercom equipment and the “annunciator,” the device that was used to indicate speed and direction to the maneuvering room, located below and toward the boat’s stern.
There are also torpedo controls, the torpedo data computer and firing console, as well as both periscopes (one for attack and one for general observation), and the very important radar and sonar equipment. A watertight hatch leads down from the conni
ng tower into the control room, which is accessed from above by going down a steep, vertical ladder.
The control room is exactly what its name implies. This is where the boat was controlled while submerged. Various equipment typically installed here include the submergence light panel, which is popularly called the Christmas tree because of its display of red and green lights that indicate system status; the bow plane and stern plane controls that allowed the crew to dive and surface smoothly and not too quickly; the inclinometer, which told them how well they were doing in that process; depth gauges, and more. There is other important gear here, too, such as the ship’s gyrocompasses, another type of radar, and the radio room.
Below the control room, and accessed by removing deck plates, is a marvelously complicated collection of pumps, compressors, generators, piping, and blowers—the systems for keeping the boat operational and comfortable. This compartment is called the pump room.
Stepping forward through the narrow doorway from the control room, the next area is dubbed the “forward battery.” Its name comes from the 126 big lead-acid electric storage cells that rested in the space below the deck plates. Because of their danger and corrosive nature, these batteries have been removed from all the museum boats. More than one submarine has been lost because of explosions either in the battery compartments or from the dangerous gases they released during charging. The storage batteries on subs did exactly what they were supposed to do, provide electricity for the motors and boat systems, but they had to be closely monitored and properly handled or they could turn lethal.
All the boats had indicator meters hanging throughout their compartments so anyone could tell at a glance if the explosive gas from the batteries ever reached a dangerous level. When it did, no matter where they were or what irritated enemy vessels might be on the surface above them, or which airplane could be bearing down on them, the boats had to surface or remain on top, open hatches, and vent the gas to the outside before a stray spark set off a conflagration far worse than any attack by the Japanese.
