This Rambles, But You Won't Find Much Of This In Movies

There is a world of difference between a DBFer and today's qualified submariners. Today's youngsters have to pack a lot more technology into their heads than we did, and have to put up with a lot of PC garbage that wasn't dreamed up in our day.  However, then as now, ALL submariners are highly motivated and dedicated warriors who rode different types of boats that were required to keep the badguys from invading free countries - worldwide from all nations. We respect our enemy counterparts, and feel badly if something bad happens to any of the "Brothers Of The 'Phin" even if they happen to be the enemy. A DBFer used to be a volunteer - one member of my ET gang on Guitarro used to be a paratrooper who volunteered in order to do even more for his country. Guitarro was a fast-attack nuke, but submariners themselves basically remain the same.  DBFers were pretty much left alone to do their jobs. Any good submariner is able to beg, borrow, steal (ahem) or jury rig (that's how most of us pronounce the jerry-rig term in the real world) anything at all to get his systems up to in order to get underway on schedule.  When yours truly was riding nukes, I had to become increasingly sneaky about having repair parts necessary to keep us alive sequestered from the prying eyes of incompetant and detrimental bean counters.  I can only imagine that today's submariners have to be even sneakier, and I have to feel sorry for them. 

That sound's negative to you? Well welcome to the real world of those that worship following everything by the book (which means factory and manufacturing lead times that have war machines going into battle without repair parts yet onboard),  and those LPO's  (Leading Petty Officers) that have those parts onboard anyway.  It's a matter of my official records that I once had an extremely negative Eval written up by a new E-9 that came aboard taking over my nukeboat E-6 ET-LPO duties:  "Furthermore, Petty Officer Przybyla thinks more of his men than he does of his equipment."  Got me there, Pal.  Guilty as charged.  That mindset didn't necessarily have to come from the Civilian community you see.

Yep, We're A Strange Lot

As things turned out, I wasn't able to become a Nuke, but that's how I started as what was called a "Baby Nuke" when I reported aboard my very first boat, Harder.  Baby Nukes were reviled by the DBFers of that particular boat (but not others), and that's to their shame.  The Program called for those signing up like I had to go aboard for only a short period of time, then on to Bainbridge, Md for Nuke Training.  I was sorely needed by the Electricians as an EM Striker, but that pervading attitude had me oiling the engines, four on and four off instead.  I read the situation, shrugged my shoulders, and shrugged them off as weird, ignoring them.  I went off to Bainbridge, and did pretty well until Thermodynamics and Heat Transfer.  Then "I" went weird, and to this day, I can't explain it.  I kept blowing tests where I knew the subject material cold.  The Instructor would have me in his office the night before an exam, I'd take fellow students to the board and show them where they were going wrong, and the next morning I'd flunk the test!  The only thing that makes sense is that for some reason I was not meant to be a Nuke.  When I went to ET School (Electronics Technician) on Treasure Island, San Francisco, after all that and some, I aced just about every test and PT no sweat. Go figger.

Blowing Nuke School was supposed to mean never seeing submarine duty again for at least a year.  An incentive of sorts, I suppose.  So, with infinite wisdom, the Navy gives me orders to a nuke fast attack under construction.  As the only non-nuke EM aboard.  The E-9 Chief EM hated my guts because I wasn't a Nuke, and went out of his way to make life miserable. I didn't hate the guy, just chalk it up to experience - I actually got chewed out one day for fixing one of "Rickover's" broken motors, and I wasn't supposed to touch anything. Go figger.  Fortunately, that boat had a great CO, and I'll let it go at that.

Among the submarine community, there are devisive attitudes between "Nose Coners" and "Nukes", Fast-Attacks and Boomers, DBFers of just when, in history, one was a DBFer. I figure 95% of the time this is all tongue-in-cheek.  Sometimes, like anything else, things get carried away.  Some WWII submariners who had it rough (for real) resent those that didn't have to go through what they did.  Now, that's a weird attitude.   A Nuke, for instance, may have been called upon to don a steam suit, and search the Engine Room with a broom handle with his face mask being blinded from the thick steam all around trying to find the source of a super-heated steam leak that could easily sever his hand all while the KGB is busy dropping depth charges all over a boat forbidden to fight back simply for asinine political reasons.  WWII Vets should think a little about how these kids today can fix a nuclear reactor with badguys trying to kill them the whole time, and not being allowed to fight back.  And cut them some slack.  Years after Vietnam a large number of lerps, tunnel rats and assassins that rode with us smokeboater types as insurgents during the war flat told me outright, when guests at my villa in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, that there was no way they'd trade places with any of us, because it was too dangerous.

Nose Coners think they're better than those aft of the reactor, and vice versa.   So they kept apart from each other.  I hated that.  For those that rode Guitarro and  Lapon when I did, you should recall that I was the one that would wander back and swap sea stories with the nukes, simply because I really believe in Fast Attacks being 'one ship, one crew'.   Same thing goes for the Boomer/Fast Attack schism.  Those Boomer guys needed a lot of refresher training constantly because of the complexities of the boat's missile systems, and rotated two crews every three months.  Fast Attackers resented that, because we had to go to sea for up to seven straight months at a time all by our lonesome, come home and run Weekly OPs - all with only one crew void of any vactation breaks like the Boomers got.  Different submarine crews had different missions.  Sometimes that wasn't comprehended fully by all those concerned.  But when push comes to shove, any submariner will defend any other submariner against all else, and come to the aid of a submariner when needed.

A Case In Point

My wife is a very serious heart patient, and on one of the many occasions that I had to unexpectely rush her to hospital in Houston, Texas 100 miles from where we live, I was financially tapped out at that point.  I was figuring on parking far away and walking a bunch, an unwilling crash diet and camping out in the waiting rooms.  We were visited there by Gil Raynor, a DBFer, and he insisted that I go with him to meet Houston Subvets like Warshot and others of the WWII era.  I said hi to these guys who then promptly had me leave the room, dragged out by Gil.  Then he dragged me back in again after a bit.  Next thing I knew, I had a mitful of money, and knew better than to say no.   Submariners stick together when it counts.

WWhat's With That Drawing Up There?

For the uninitiated seeing a drawing like the one above, I would imagine it to be confusing at first glance, and it likely is. That piece of chest-metal at the top of the screen are called "Dolphins", and those happen to be mine. To be allowed to wear them, I had to demonstrate a proficiency and working knowledge that would enable me to step in and perform the functions of a fallen shipmate. As a DBFer, that meant using things like this High Pressure Manifold under normal conditions, and to be able to duplicate its functions under emergency conditions by other means through demonstration. As a DBFer and a submariner riding fast-attack nukes, that involved all systems like air conditioning, oxygen generation, scrubbers & cleaners, firing torpedoes, using signal ejectors, pumping ballast and trim tank water everywhere, low-pressure air systems and compressors, Main and Auxiliary electrical power, Main Battery Charging, Navigational aids, all hydraulic systems, Fire Control and target plots, bringing up bringing down and operating the Nuclear Power Reactor, and that's just some of it. That's because Divisional duties and Watch standing (in port and underway) qualifications are also involved. Part of being a submariner also involves Mess Cooking, and scrubbing the decks on one's hands and knees performing Field Days.

I have this really lop-sided point of view that submariners, in no way, equate to our skimmer counterparts. But that's just me, and it's a sort of ingrained snobbish attitude - an admitted fault that I live with....

Today everything is by the book in all aspects of submarine life in attempts to mirror the Skimmer Navy. That wasn't always necessarily the case with trained, experienced and trusted DBFers on the Old Boats. This is not a mindless statement of empty bravado. Hands-on experience and proven capabilities were recognized and entrusted to men over poorly-written technical manuals written by technical writers, engineers and operators who never went to sea in a submarine. If something needed fixing, we'd fix it. "End of that problem - what's next?" When I went through Submarine School in Groton, Connecticut, it was all-volunteer. The attrition rate at that time (1964) was 60% from that school alone. Those of the remaining 40% had to qualify as mentioned above to get their dolphins. Those that failed were sent to the skimmer navy.

We DBFers took great pride in our controlled insanity (who else would do this for a living?) and in NOT looking like skimmers or following the strictness of the surface fleet's absolute following of Navy Rules And Regulations (which we sort of bent on occasion) - we refer to those sailors as skimmers, and the surface ships that they ride as targets. These are great men and sailors - just not us. We were good. We knew it, the powers to be knew it, and everyone pretty much left us alone with the exception of skimmer Shore Patrols who could always be counted on to give us a hard time with Report Chits about our purposely really ratty working uniform appearance. I was really found of my Wellington's...

As you can see by this commentary, my website is not the expected norm. Although I keep everything with a G-rating, this website does reflect the world of an experienced submariner and warrior. It's not supposed to be boring anyway...if it is, let me know, and I'll fix it. :-)

DBF,
Chainfall sends