The Final Water Leg
Elaborate plans had been made to welcome U-505 into the Windy City on June 26, 1954. Destroyer escort Daniel A. Joy (DE 585) and two sub chasers, USS PC 845 and USS PCE 894, met the U-boat about three miles north of Wilson Avenue beach to escort it on the last 20 miles of the tow. The ships were part of the 9th Naval District, the so-called “Corn Belt Fleet,” a small group of six Navy ships operating out of Chicago used to train Navy reservists. The veteran submarine USS Silversides was also part of this fleet, but was permanently docked at Navy Pier and unable to diesel out to greet U-505. More than 100 yachts made the journey to meet U-505, more than making up for Silversides’ absence. They sailed out to welcome the U-boat and Navy ships north of the city off Grosse Point Lighthouse near Evanston and escort them to the mouth of the Chicago River.
And then tragedy struck. A freak storm hit Chicago on the morning of U-505’s arrival. A sudden squall hit the shore at 9:32 a.m. Heavy rain lashed the ships and a sudden lightning storm crackled across the dark skies. The water level of the lake rose suddenly from three to ten feet in some areas and a rogue series of waves rolled against the shore. The water surged inland as far as 150 feet in some places. One boat sank at its mooring and debris was scattered everywhere. Tragically, the water swept away more than a dozen people fishing on a pier just south of Montrose harbor. Eight lives were lost that morning. The high water receded almost as quickly as it had splashed ashore. U-505 and its escorts had no idea the freakish conditions caused so much damage and death, and did not learn of the disastrous events until after their arrival.114
U-505 arrived ninety minutes late at Navy Pier. It was 1:00 p.m. From there it was towed to a mooring location to participate in ceremonies. Forty members of the Guadalcanal Task Group 22.3, including three sailors from the original Pillsbury boarding party, staged a re-enactment of the capture. By this time thousands of people had gathered along the pier, shoreline, and anywhere a few feet of space could be found to witness the historic event. After a proud Admiral Gallery shouted “Boarders Away!” through a bullhorn, three whaleboats full of TG 22.3 veterans were lowered over the side of Daniel A. Joy. Once in the water, they made their way to U-505 as it approached the locks of the Chicago River. When the lead whaleboat lurched against its hull Gallery again shouted, “Boarders Away!” Zenon Lukosius grabbed the ladder and was the first aboard. Lukosius, a member of the original boarding party, had returned the cover to the sea strainer the Germans had opened in their attempt to scuttle the boat. He was followed closely by Wayne Pickels and Chester Mocarski (who had slipped and been hurt ten years earlier). Admiral Gallery brought up the rear. A drum and bugle corps played as the German battle flag sporting the hated swastika was jerked down and the U.S. Ensign raised high. The Nazi ensign was re-installed below it. The reenactment received a roar of approval from the huge crowd, which included more than 260 hospitalized veterans from area VA hospitals, who had front row wheelchair seats for the show.115
After this breathtaking display U-505 was towed to a spot east of the Michigan Avenue Bridge on the north side of the river. Chicago fireboats Joseph Medill and Fred M. Busse erupted with their carefully rehearsed salute and a mountain of spray carried by the wind offered spectators and participants an impromptu shower. Thousands along the river banks and lake shore cheered as the U-boat approached a decorated barge (the boarding point for all VIPs) to tie up at the foot of the bridge. Committee member Karl Stockholm and Mayor Kennelly officially hailed the sub as it approached. It was 2:00 p.m.
“What ship is that?” Stockholm playfully shouted through his bullhorn.
Admiral Gallery, standing proudly on the bridge, replied. “Nazi submarine U-505!”
“Where from and where bound?” asked Crown.
“From Cape Blanco, French West Africa, bound for Jackson Park. We wish to stop here to get our bearings. This ship was 10 years and 22 days en route, and I’m sorry it had to be an extra hour and a half late!” shouted Gallery. The crowd roared itself hoarse.116
Speeches and presentations at 2:30 p.m. marked the official ceremony turning over the boat to Chicago. City Council members and some 250 donors to the U-505 fund served as official guests. Entertainment was provided by the 35-piece Great Lakes Naval Training Center Recruits Band. Spectators were not allowed to board the U-boat during its brief stay in the river, but the view from the South side of the waterway and bridge on Michigan Avenue was spectacular. With all the clamor and excitement it is likely few recalled this same bridge played host to President Franklin D. Roosevelt on October 5, 1937, when he delivered his famous “quarantine the aggressors” speech. The president had urged the isolation of Japan, Italy, and Germany for their actions in China, Ethiopia, Spain, and Austria. Roosevelt’s words foretold the threat posed by boats like U-505: “In times of so-called peace ships are being attacked and sunk by submarines without cause or notice.” And now U-505 wallowed gently in the Chicago River within a stone’s throw of where Roosevelt had uttered his famous words. Once the initial festivities ended a cocktail party and reception was held at the Chicago Yacht Club for the participants of the capture and the Mayor’s U-505 committee.117
To Shore!
U-505 remained tied up at the Michigan Avenue Bridge over the weekend. On Monday it was taken in tow to the dockyards south of the city to be outfitted for the move to the museum. These final preparations were challenging. Press reports claimed the stripped-down boat weighed 840 tons and would be the largest object ever moved from a floating base to shore. Plans for exactly how to accomplish such a feat had been underway for months.
While the U-boat was still in Portsmouth, members of the U-505 committee discussed how to move the submarine over land from Lake Michigan to the museum, a distance of about 300 yards. Seth Gooder, the civil engineer who had come out of retirement to craft this aspect of the project, pondered two proposals. The first involved using the existing Jackson Park lagoon system south of the museum, which was connected to Lake Michigan. This option was the first one shared openly with the public and was deemed the most desireable for quite some time. The difficulties of this alternative were discovered when Gooder explored the option more deeply. Channels would have to be dredged and the sandstone-supported bridge at the lagoon’s entrance (a valued remnant of the 1893 World’s Fair and one that still carried automobile traffic) would have to be preserved. Squeezing the large boat beneath the structure provided thorny engineering challenges. More complex issues—such as how to turn the boat 90 degrees so it could begin its overland journey to the museum—would face the engineering team once inside the small lagoon. None of the solutions proposed—including cutting off the conning tower to reduce the height, or rolling the boat on its side to avoid cutting off the tower—were deemed acceptable.
The second option, which initially appeared to be less desirable and more dangerous than the lagoon approach, involved moving U-505 overland across Lake Shore Drive, which at that time was the only north-south highway through the city and a major regional thoroughfare. Hauling the heavy boat along this route risked destroying the pavement and causing serious traffic headaches. The committee heard many proposals and presentations before finally making up its mind on February 13. U-505 would be moved across Lake Shore Drive on a barge floated to the 57th Street beach close to the museum. The deciding factor seems to have been the fact that the Lake Shore Drive route was all overland once the boat left the lake. Although it was a longer distance than the lagoon route, it posed essentially only one problem: how to move the boat across land to the museum.
The plan called for U-505 to be floated in and out of dry-docks in order to prepare the moving gear on its underside, and then float it onto a floating dry-dock for its high and dry journey to the beach. Once there, the U-boat would be winched onto dry land on large rollers, pulled across Lake Shore Drive, and then, finally, eased into position alongside the museum and swung into its final position. Gooder decided the best way to haul U-505 onto land was to
carry it aboard a floating dry-dock to the 57th Street beach adjacent to the museum. There, the boat would be hauled off the dock onto a special pier built for that purpose. The lake end of the pier was constructed on steel sheet pilings extending 50 feet out into the lake from the shoreline and six feet above the surface. Pier construction began in the first week of July and required 25 tons of steel pilings, steel rails, and hundreds of feet of wooden beams. Fitzsimmons Dredge and Dry-Dock Company dredged a channel nine feet deep and 80 feet wide so the floating dry-dock could edge as close as possible to the beach. Obviously the devil was in the details, but by the time everyone was ready the details had been impressively and meticulously planned. The final technical hurdle of installing U-505 as an exhibit had apparently been resolved—at least on paper.118
Once the decision was made Seth Gooder compiled a list of the materials and equipment he would need to accomplish the herculean task. House moving equipment, tractors, steel, wood, jacks, rigging, and other large pieces of equipment were required. The American Shipbuilding Company offered the free use of its Calumet harbor dry-dock for preparing the boat for its final move aboard the floating dry-dock, which was being donated by the Great Lakes Dredge and Dock Company.119
U-505 was towed to the American Shipbuilding dry-dock on Monday, June 28. The first job was to remove the more than 30,000 gallons of fuel and lube oil still sloshing about in the boat’s forward tanks. The fuel had been left there to raise the stern of the boat to bring the propellers up as much as possible for its journey through the shallow canal systems. After the fuel was pumped out the tanks were steam cleaned to eliminate lingering explosive fumes to allow the welding and structural work to safely proceed.
U-505 was moved again under tow on July 2 to the American Shipbuilding Company docks at 101st and the Calumet River for the structural work. There it was guided through an open gate at one end of the dry-dock, which was then closed and the water pumped out. As the boat settled to the bottom, large wooden graving blocks were positioned along the center keel as pedestals to accept its weight. Wooden beams braced between the boat’s hull and walls of the dock prevented the U-boat from tipping over. In an effort to further reduce its weight workmen removed 96 tons of iron ballast from the boat’s box keel. This would allow U-505 to float as high in the water as possible and make it easier to place it onto a floating dry-dock and move it onto the beach.
U-505 was refloated in the main dry-dock and towed out into the river. The floating dry-dock was pushed into the main dry-dock and U-505 was floated back inside. After a complicated series of maneuvers the water was finally pumped from the main dock, allowing U-505 to come gently to rest on top of the floating dry-dock.
While U-505 sat in this dry-dock within a dry-dock, the moving cradle and roller-track system was put into place for its movement onto the beach. Two large H-beams, each 135 feet long, were placed on both sides parallel with the length of the boat and 11 feet apart on center. The beams (known as “shoe beams”) would carry slightly less than four tons per linear foot.120 Holes were cut into the keel center and 14-foot transverse beams were passed through and bolted and welded to the shoe beams. The transverse beams were then cribbed from the top of the beam to the underside of the ballast tanks or outer hull of the boat for maximum support and to distribute the load of the move more evenly. Three large steel cradles were also designed and attached to the rear, center, and forward parts of the box keel. These would serve as the main structural component of the concrete support cradles once the boat was in final position alongside the museum.
Once the beams were secure U-505 was jacked up and several sets of railroad track placed beneath the long shoe beams. House moving rollers (large round steel bars similar to rolling pins) were inserted between the two sets of rails so the boat could be rolled off the barge and onto the beach. U-505 would be hauled the same way large houses and other buildings were moved across land. Once these complicated moving structures were in place the floating dry-dock was emptied of much of its water ballast, which lowered it to the bottom of the main dry-dock. The main dry-dock/graving dock gate valves were now opened. As the main dry-dock filled with water the floating dry-dock rose, carrying with it U-505.
The U-boat now rode high above the water centered in the floating dry-dock with both ends overhanging the dock (the stern, which would be the first part to reach land, by 65 feet). A gravel barge was secured to each end of the dock to provide, among other things, longitudinal stability during the tow on the open lake. Once near the beach the nearest gravel barge would be removed so U-505 could be transferred off the dock and directly onto the pier. The fluctuating water level in the lake was of great concern to the engineers—especially after the recent freakish waves that had battered the shore without warning. Any sudden misalignment of the moving rails between the pier and floating dry-dock could spell disaster.
By August 2, U-505 was judged ready for the transfer to land and its new home outside the museum. The display cradles and steel framework were in place and it was now resting on the steel rollers for the move off the dry-dock. To the dismay of everyone, bad weather blew in and delayed the operation for days. The rough waters shifted the lake’s sediment, which in turn forced the Army Corps of Engineers to dredge the channel a second time. Ironically, the forecasts promised cooperative weather conditions for August 13—Friday the 13th!
Friday morning arrived with winds hovering around 10 mph and very little wave action. A relieved Seth Gooder gave the go-ahead to proceed. Although the conditions were still less than ideal, they were deemed acceptable. Many of the companies participating in the project were donating their services and postponing paying business; it would be unfair to delay any longer. By 11:00 a.m., with one tug pushing and the other tug pulling, the long-delayed move to the beach got underway. Spectators by the thousands gathered at bridges along the Calumet River and along the shore of Lake Michigan. U-505 reached the open lake about 12:15 p.m. and was 100 yards off shore near 57th Street shortly after 2:00 pm. A third tugboat met the submarine to assist in the delicate maneuver to the pier, which began around 3:15 p.m. Ashore, meanwhile, 50 engineers and workmen busied themselves with all manner of tasks to ensure the difficult transition onto land went as smoothly as possible.
The tugs made several attempts to push the dock into place, but choppy waves made the effort difficult. After several attempts a decision was made to tie off one corner of the dock and allow the other end to swing into the desired position. As this was being accomplished the genius of Seth Gooder and those who had worked so hard for so long to master the unique and difficult task became evident in a most tangible way. U-505 could be off-loaded only if the rails on the dry-dock and the pier matched. What many spectators failed to realize was that the depth of the lake, height of the pier, wind, dry-dock trim—and a myriad of other factors—had to be taken into consideration. Because of the possible variation in the water level on the day of the actual move, Gooder factored in a margin of error for the transfer. He had estimated that once the dock was aligned with the pier, the bottom of the track on the dock would hover above the top of the pier platform by 4 7/8 inches. How precise was his advance planning? When the dock was finally maneuvered into position, the distance was exactly five inches—a difference of only 1/8 of an inch! Water ballast was increased to lower the rails on the dock into perfect alignment with the rails on the pier. Landing operations were now ready to begin.
The off-loading of the U-boat from the floating dry-dock to the pier offered a mathematical nightmare that had required weeks of calculations and revisions to solve. The issue was how much ballast water would have to be added to the dry-dock to compensate for the loss of weight as the submarine moved onto the pier and shore. It was finally calculated that 27 tons of water would have to be taken into the dry-dock ballast tanks as every four feet of submarine slid off the dock. Because of the tremendous weight involved, a miscalculation would upend the structure and tip U-505 into Lake Michigan. Several hours
of white-knuckle tension followed.
It was nearly 7:00 p.m. when the U-boat was ready to be pulled onto the beach. Six returns of steel cable were run through six compound pulleys attached to the end of the moving cradle and a winch at the end of an International Harvester Company heavy tractor located on the beach. When the winching process began, U-505 creaked and moaned as if once again diving deep beneath the sea. As it slid forward, the steel rollers under the shoe beams came free in the rear and were brought ahead of the shoe beams patch enabling the lumbering journey to continue without interruption. By 9:00 p.m. the critical halfway point was reached. A few minutes more and the boat’s center of gravity forever passed from water to land.121 Within another hour U-505 was welcomed ashore by the hearty crowd, which had remained to watch the magnificent engineering feat unfold.
The German U-boat spent the next two and one-half weeks on the edge of Lake Michigan waiting on its handlers for the final move to the museum. The beached submarine offered a surreal backdrop for beach lovers and the regular crowds of curious people who marveled at the large size of the boat. Now toothless and landlocked, the once-feared shark of the seas was about to assume a new role its builders could never have envisioned. The forward half of the boat remained on the pier over the water while the rear half occupied that portion of the pier constructed over the beach. The stern was but a single foot away from the sidewalk running along Lake Shore Drive. Extra police officers were assigned to the area to protect the pedestrians and motorists who paid more attention to the submarine than their own surroundings.
The last major obstacle was crossing Lake Shore Drive. The busy route was the main highway through Chicago in 1954 (the interstate system located farther west did not arrive until two years later). Closing it for any length of time—especially during rush hour—would cause serious headaches for the city and those who relied on it for moving goods and services in the area. Planners estimated it would take three hours for the boat to cross the busy thoroughfare and another three hours to remove the rail system and clear the road for traffic. The city wisely gave the museum a twelve-hour window (from 7:00 p.m. until 7:00 a.m.) to accomplish the task.
Hunt and Kill Page 27
