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Sabalo Memoirs of Lt. Robert C. Bell Jr.©
On board Sabalo Sep 52 - Jun 53
Forward
At the beginning of the year
2001 I searched the
net for information about the submarines Bream SS-243 and Sabalo
SS-302.
The early history of Bream is recorded in
some detail [Due to her six patrols in WWII] . However, Sabalo
had very little written about her other than the date of launch and
early movements during training periods. Some statements found about
her activity in 1952 and 1953 were not accurate and were later
corrected, but any details of the period from December 26,1952 and June
26, 1953 were completely missing. For some reason that six months spent
in the Korean theater is never mentioned. When I contacted people who
were listed as having served on Sabalo, I found that I remembered more
than they did. Recently [mid 2002], I conducted another search, finding only a brief account [on the Sabalo web site] of Sabalo's return to Pearl Harbor in June of 1953. I felt that I should write about the Korean Patrol from my perspective, trying to be as accurate as possible about an event that took place fifty years ago. Coming Aboard When USS Bream SS-243 was decommissioned in 1952, I was transferred to Sabalo at Pearl Harbor. My wife, Ruth, and sons, Rob, Dave, Steve, and I made the trip from San Francisco to Hawaii in four days aboard USS Shanks, a military transport where I was given a tour around the upper decks by LTjg Jim Alton who had been my shipmate aboard Bream. One area he pointed out to me was just for VIP'S. He was taken aback when he found out that large stateroom was for me and my family. To add to his frustration, he and his wife had been assigned to separate facilities. When my family and I arrived at Oahu we faced a disconcerting situation. We had no place to stay. Commander Steve Gimber, who had been my Division Commander in San Diego, was now my Division Commander again. He and his gracious wife Betty permitted us to stay at his home for a couple of weeks until we found an apartment on Kioo Street on Waikiki Beach. Later we moved into new officer housing facilities on Kidd Drive above the Submarine Base at Pearl Harbor. It wasn't until I reported aboard Sabalo that I realized that I was third officer and assumed the duties of Engineer and Diving Officer. Larry Savadkin, was the Commanding Officer. He had survived the loss of USS Tang SS-306 during WWII when she was sunk by one of her own torpedoes that made a circular run. Herb Harris-Warren was the Executive Officer and Navigator. The other officers were Bo Foster, Will James, Murray Menkes, Lou Nockold, and Blake Stothard. Early Problems Sailors are a superstitious lot, and submarine sailors are no different. Strange things began to happen aboard the boat right after she came out of the navy yard where one of the major repairs had been to fix leaky periscopes (They continued to leak during my entire tour aboard.). On Sabalo's first dive after leaving the yard a peculiar event took place. As soon as we started our descent the cry went out, "The main induction is flooding". We surfaced immediately. The captain ordered that the main air induction operating mechanism be left just as it was, in the closed position, so we could see what was holding it open. It was discovered that a yard workman had left a large bolt lying loose in the superstructure, and as we submerged it dislodged and landed on end just as the mushroom valve was shutting. The main induction system supplies air to the main engines as well as the rest of the boat. We asked ourselves what the chances of that happening were. Fortunately no serious damage was sustained. A short time later another strange occurrence took place. We were submerged on the east side of the island of Lanai. We were preparing to surface when we heard the sound of a ship's screws, probably that of a tug, passing over us. Then we heard something scraping along the port side of the ship. Suddenly the boat lurched. We waited until the sound of the screws had completely faded before surfacing to discover that our JT sonar sound head was missing. It seems that the tug had a tow, and as it was preparing to leave the lee of the island of Lanai it was increasing the length of the towline and the loop caught the directional sonar sound head tearing it away. I thought I heard an enlisted man say, "Jinxed". Another incident took place after our trim dive when the man on the bow planes made a mistake and put ten degrees dive instead of rise on the planes. Will James had the dive. Before he could order," Blow negative tank to the mark, blow bow buoyancy, full rise on the bow planes," I heard Herb Harris-Warren, who was hanging on to the gyro table with his legs extended straight out saying, "Will, you're getting a hell of an angle". Normally this would not have been very serious, but in this assigned diving area we had very little margin for error because it was not deep. Repairs Needed The Sabalo once again entered the navy yard and into dry dock. It was during this time that Bo Foster told some of my favorite stories about his childhood in Texas living with his father who was a college educated farmer. If the Foster family planted corn, the rains came early and destroyed the tassels. If they planted cotton the rains came late and destroyed the crop. If they planted cantaloupe, you couldn't give cantaloupe away. So a decision was made to breed and rear mules. When placed in the corral, they would huddle at the far end with just their rear ends showing. Then as if on signal they would turn and run right at Bo and his dad. They both sought safety, Bo going over the fence and his dad going under. His father asked," "What's the matter. Bo, you 'fraid of them goddam mules?" Bo told me that his father always made it under the fence before Bo went over the top. He said that the mules got into some Johnson grass that had been frost bitten, and they all were extremely ill. When the vet came, he said that he didn't give them much chance for survival, but they could try forcing some croton oil* into them to purge the system. They took the ailing mules into the orchard, hoisted them off the ground and forced croton oil down their throats. The next morning they had an orchard full of dead mules hanging from the trees. *[croton oil n. A brownish-yellow, foul-smelling oil obtained from the seeds of a tropical Asian shrub or small tree (Croton tiglium) and formerly used as a drastic purgative and counterirritant. Its use was discontinued because of its toxicity.]One winter his father was cleaning his shot gun. He admonished the boys to stay well clear of him because, "It is always the unloaded gun that goes off". He then blew a hole in the stove. During our stay in the yard, I relieved Will James as Engineer and Diving Officer, so it was my responsibility to make the first trim dive, which was stationary, it wasn’t pretty, flooding tanks from sea, moving water into the trim tanks, correcting the angle, compensating. When I finished and we had surfaced, I turned to a commander from the yard and remarked," Well, that wasn't the greatest trim dive ever made". He said something to me that I have remembered all my life. "Any time you see daylight, it was a successful dive." Sabalo Makes Its First Deployment after Recommissioning The day after Christmas, 1952 we kissed our wives and children good-bye, and left for the Far East for patrol into the Sea of Japan. Underway, every officer except the Captain and the Executive Officer stood regular watches. It is common practice in submarines to conduct drills when underway so that if any emergency occurs, the safety of the ship is assured. The most important thing is the repetition, so that everyone knows where he is to be and what he is to do. It also breaks up the boredom when not on watch. Each officer had to hone his navigational skills by shooting the stars at the same time as the executive officer did, and then compare results. Since I was third officer, I was first. The quartermaster and I recorded and plotted my results on a chart, and he suggested that I get a moon line, even though they are not usually considered reliable. Shortly after I turned my results in to the captain, I heard, "Bob, what the hell is the matter with you? You have us twenty miles south of where Herb says we are." I had no answer as to what the hell was the matter with me. The quartermaster came down with a new plot showing that the moon line went right through the spot where I said we were. Still not knowing what the hell was the matter with me, I showed it to the captain. Then I heard, "Herb, what the hell is the matter with you?" We soon discovered that the sextant Herb used was faulty, so he took mine. One day when I had the con, I noticed that the sea had changed during my watch. The swells were increasing and the wind was picking up. There had been news that typhoon Hester had passed through the Philippines with winds of 175 miles per hour near the center, but the last we heard Hester was heading for China. After being relieved from watch I entered the conning tower, where the Captain and the Exec were huddled over the chart table. I said, "There's nothing like the roll of the deck beneath your feet and the good salt spray in your face." The Captain said, "That’s not funny. Hester has turned around and we are heading straight for her." After charting her track, it was decided to run due south. Afterward they changed their minds and we ran due north. We went right through the eye of this erratic storm, which by then, luckily, did not have winds anywhere near 175 mph. We rode it out on the surface and set course for Chi Chi Jima. Sabalo Visits the island of Chi Chi Jima, Japan None of us had ever heard of Chi Chi Jima. The Japanese had named it that because there were two mountains that formed what they thought looked like women's breasts We were told that at one time the Japanese planned to move the seat of government to Chi Chi in the event the home island was invaded. There were copper lined caves for the storing of documents. I never understood this because if they couldn't defend the home island, how in the world could they keep this little volcanic speck in the northern chain of the Bonin Islands safe from invasion? On Chi Chi, the Japanese had dug in every direction, including straight down. They stored gasoline in many of the caves, but by the time we arrived the drums had started to leak so the caves were sealed. Rumor had it that the US Navy planned to use this island as a submarine base.
[Located about 600 miles south
of Tokyo, the Bonins
were returned to Japan in 1968 having been seized during WWII, and are
now
known as the Ogasawara Islands. Iwo Jima is part of the Volcano
Islands, which are sometimes considered the southernmost part of the
Bonin chain.]
There was a small naval
contingent that employed
some of the natives. I wandered around and found very little of
interest to examine except the destruction that the Marines had dealt
to
all of the prewar facilities. There were wild goats roaming the island,
and they were huge. As I went down to a small boat ramp, I saw a man
mending his fishing nets. I prepared to use my best pigeon English to
engage him in conversation, but I didn't get a chance because he spoke
with a decided New England accent. He told me that his ancestor was a
whaler who had been stranded here about one hundred years before. He
also said that he was one of the few residents who still fished for a
living, preferring to take his catch to Saipan to sell it for $500
rather than working for the U.S. Navy for $21.00 a month. I told him I
was interested in the wild goats, and asked if they were hunted for
food. He said that the goats were the island's emergency food supply.
They had been invaded over the years by so many foreign powers that
they learned to hunt goats on Ha Ha Jima, an island to the south, and
save the ones on Chi Chi. From Chi Chi Jima on to Yokosuka After taking on supplies we left the island and set course for Yokosuka, Japan. The weather suddenly became miserable. We encountered a gale with winds that were worse than what we had experienced riding out the remnants typhoon Hester. I had the watch when I realized that we were unable to see around us because the height of the waves. I called the captain and asked if we could send the lookouts below and have them stand watch on the periscopes. They were in danger of being washed overboard. He agreed and I was hoping that he would say, "Why don't you come down and stand your watch in the conning tower, since you can't see anything anyway", but he didn't. Shortly afterward he looked in the 'scope and realized just how heavy the seas were, and he then ordered me down. When encountering storms at sea, fleet type submarines always ride it out on the surface. During a dive the boat passes quickly through a point when it has no righting arm [the center of gravity is above the center of mass], and if hit by an external force it could spin like a pencil.. Also if there is an emergency that makes it necessary to surface, the ship could be dead in the water while the main engines are fired up, and it could be caught in the trough and capsize. After heading into the heavy seas for twenty-four hours, the navigator reported that Sabalo had backed up three miles. After that experience the run to Japan was a piece of cake. Patrol Area - Sea of Japan We made some minor repairs, took on fuel and supplies, and waited for the orders to move into our assigned area for patrol. Our orders directed us to proceed north and enter the Sea of Japan by way of La Perouse Strait [ which separates N. Hokkaido island, Japan, from S. Sakhalin island, Russia, and connects the Sea of Japan on the west with the Sea of Okhotsk on the east.]. Again we encountered heavy seas, but this time we could not turn into the wind which meant the boat yawed quite a bit while trying to hold course. A Navy search plane flew over us and thought we were in trouble. He broke radio silence and called us by name, rather than calling us by our code name. I am sure that everyone who was monitoring this frequency in the entire Far East knew our exact position and could guess just where we were going. Patrol Experiences By now we knew that our chances of passing through La Perouse Strait undetected were nil. We had an assigned area in the Sea of Japan to patrol. Our assignment was to count and photograph ships going north and south. Our first night when we surfaced to charge batteries, I was the officer of the deck. The weather was not all that good to begin with, but then it got worse. It was as if someone had opened a door for high winds to blow through, and it was that way every night for the rest of the patrol. When we surfaced and opened the conning tower hatch, the water coming in flushed out the control room. We rotated the lookouts, but I had to stay on the bridge for the full four hours. For that reason, in addition to the foul weather gear that I wore, I also used thermal boots. I felt that if I was swept over the side, I would have floated upside down. Before I came aboard, Sabalo had been converted from its original configuration by the addition of a snorkel air induction and streamlined sail. The snorkel was of no value to us under these high sea state conditions We had tried it several times and found that it did not perform the way the engineers thought. Theoretically, we were supposed to be able to submerge and use our main engines for propulsion and battery charge. The air flow volume through the snorkel was sufficient for running just two engines, so the other two were useless. Sabalo had to be kept at a constant depth or the valve at the top of the snorkel tube would close as we went deeper and open when we rose. Our ears were popping when the seas got just a little rough. Thus we had to operate as a regular fleet boat, following the procedure for battery charge while running on the surface. Because of the cold nights, I grew a beard to help keep my face and throat warm. I can't, in all honesty, say that it was a great looking beard, and it also caused my face to itch. As I mentioned earlier we had a chronic problem with the periscopes leaking. The mixture of oil and salt water got into my beard, and smelled like dog doo. I will never forget that smell. I washed my facial hair after every periscope watch. Will James grew a beard also. His was red and looked great. Mine seemed to have the color of a dirty sheep. We knew that the Russians were aware of our presence because when we surfaced at night, search lights came on on the island of Sakhalin. We also detected their radar. We realized that they could have sent destroyers, and sunk us if they chose to, and no one would have known what happened to us. Or ComSubPac might have suspected that we got too close to Korea and were sunk by friendly fire. We had orders to stay well clear of there because our surface forces were ordered to sink any submarine that entered into the restricted area. Fire in the Starboard Main Motor We were nearing the end of our stay in the Sea of Japan, when we encountered a real emergency. I was checking rig for dive, and as I entered the maneuvering room I saw a tongue of fire rise from the main electrical propulsion motor on the starboard side. We shut down power and extinguished a small fire. After assessing the damage, and discussing it with the chief electrician, we decided to run the starboard screw at a speed below that which would cause smoking from the motor, at least until we were clear of the area. The Captain and the Exec agreed with the plan. Problem with Outboard Exhaust Valve Shortly thereafter, I was sitting in the ward room, and the EMC came in and told me that the hydraulic mechanism that opened and closed the outboard exhaust valve for engine #2 was inoperative and the system had to be controlled by hand. The chief requested that the officer of the deck give the engine room warning before he sounded the diving alarm. I informed the captain, and went to tell the officer of the deck. The other officers would be told later before they went on watch. I went up and requested permission to come to the bridge, which was routine. (The officer of the deck must be aware of who is on the bridge besides the lookouts. Before a dive he shouts "Clear the Bridge" and counts those leaving before he goes below and closes the conning tower hatch.) The O.D. assured me that he would call the engine room before he ordered a dive. No sooner had I reached the control room, when I heard the diving alarm sound, followed by the words, "Dive, Dive." I went to the forward engine room where the enginemen had struggled to close the valve manually as fast as they could, but sea water had come within an inch of the generator. When we were leveled off at periscope depth, I went to the control room and asked the O.D. just what had happened from the time I left the bridge that led him to dive without alerting the engine room. He said, "I forgot. The lookouts spotted an aircraft in the distance, so I took her down." -- Just another day at the office. Sabalo passes near probable location of the sinking of USS Wahoo SS-238 We didn't learn about this until later, but we may have passed over the final resting place of the Wahoo SS 238, commanded by Mush Morton, probably the most daring, and one of the most successful of the war time skippers. Japanese records indicated that a submarine was sunk near the western end of La Perouse Strait at the time Wahoo was on patrol there. The following is a true story about Mush Morton. He was very adept with a needle and thread. If an enlisted man advanced in rate, he would sew the new patch on his uniform. Once when taking his boat to Mare Island for refit, he fabricated a long banner and had it rolled up and attached to the periscope shears. When all tines were doubted up, the quartermaster released the banner. The Admiral who was Commandant of the Naval District and his wife were present. She could not make out the message it conveyed. She asked, "What does it say, dear?" He replied, "It says. "Shoot the Sons-a-Bitches." Return to Yoko for Repairs Once we had cleared La Perouse Strait on our way back to Yokosuka, we shut down propulsion on the starboard screw to prevent any further damage until we reached the naval base. We did again use it maneuvering the ship into position alongside the tender to begin necessary repairs. Before leaving for WestPac, I had applied for admission to The College of Physicians and Surgeons, a School of Dentistry. The pre admission test had been sent to Pearl Harbor. Ruth mailed it to me in Japan. I was given permission to have the base dental officer administer the test, and then mail it back to San Francisco. I would not know the results until we returned to Pearl. While repairs were in progress in Yokosuka, we had lots of free time. One night, Murray Menkes came into the ward room after spending a few hours at the bar in the officer's club. He had the smile of one who had spent a few hours in the club, a smile frozen on his face. As he beamed, he said," I really wrinkled in". With that he left and hunted for his bed. We asked each other if any of us had heard the term "wrinkled in" before. Will said that Murray had been in flight training and maybe it had to do with landing an aircraft. The following morning, when Murray came in for breakfast, we asked him what it meant to "wrinkle in". He gave us a blank stare and said," I don't have the slightest idea. I never heard that before." To this day it is still a mystery. Repairs Completed Our patrol report had been submitted to Steve Gimber, the Division Commander, who was in Yokosuka. He forwarded it on to ComSubPac with his comments, including his approval of our decision regarding the use of the starboard motors for propulsion while in the Sea of Japan and La Perouse Strait. I didn't realize it at the time, but this was extremely important as I would find out when we reached Pearl Harbor. In the yards, we had Japanese workmen helping with the repair of the one main motor that had to be rewound. They did the grunt work. Usually there were five of them, one being in charge. When we offered them coffee, the head man indicated that they would accept only one cup of coffee. He drank first and then passed down the line until each of them had had a drink. They all smiled and offered their thanks. One day while in the metal shop on the base, I asked a Japanese workman if he could cast the submarine insignia, the dolphins, to be used for display purposes. About a week later when I returned to the shop to check on parts, he showed me 14" x 4" bronze casting that he had made for me. I have it on front of my desk in the den at home. All repair work had been completed on the motor and the outboard exhaust valve and then the order came. "When in all respects ready for sea, you will depart Yokosuka and etc. etc. The etc. included orders to form with a small task force and proceed to Okinawa. The plan was that we were to run ahead of the task force, dive and simulate an attack.-- "Nevah Hoppin."-- Running at standard speed, about 18 knots, we could not get far enough ahead of the surface vessels. Heavy Seas cause Injury During this transit to Okinawa there was a heavy following sea, and we were being pooped badly which was serious enough to cause us to run with the conning tower hatch shut. I had the con and every so often I found myself standing in water up to my knees. Then it happened, one following swell lifted the stern, a second pushed us into a trough, and a third one caused us to heel over 65° to port. The lookout on that side fell, and as he hit me, his knee struck me at the base of my skull. For a few moments, I could not see clearly. As I regained my composure, I noticed that the red running light on the ship in front of us indicated that we were now on a course at right angles to the task force. I brought Sabalo back to base course, and asked the captain to send someone to relieve me until I could function a little better. He sent Murray Menkes. The only thing that I remember from that event was that I was cold, wet, and hurt. Sabalo Visits Naha, Okinawa To this day I can not remember why we were sent to Naha, Okinawa. I don’t remember who had the con when we tied up to a rather long pier. However, the departure is etched in my memory. When the Captain returned from business on shore, he brought an army colonel with him, saying that he would ride with us to Buckner Bay, Okinawa on the other side of the island. I had the con and after talking with the Exec, I realized that getting the boat out of there could be a little tricky. Even though there had been extensive dredging, none of the charts accurately indicated just how much water we had under us. There did not seem to be enough room to maneuver the sub without leaving the indicated channel. When I came to the bridge, I told the Captain that after consulting with the Navigator, I felt the safest thing to do was to keep Sabalo's nose against the dock, and use the screws to wind her around until we could move away, with the stern well within the channel. Consequently, I tore a chunk out of the dock, which, I thought, was preferable to explaining to a court martial that we went aground because we had no accurate charts. Just as we were leaving Naha, we encountered a heavy rain storm, so heavy that it was impossible to see. I asked for and received a pair of goggles, but they quickly fogged up. I wiped saliva (mine) on the inner surfaces of the glass, but although it controlled the fogging, the rain was so heavy our visibility was limited. At Buckner Bay we were told to tie up as the outboard submarine of a nest alongside a destroyer tender. As I tried to bring the ship alongside the nest, I soon realized that the wind was setting us down so rapidly that I could not use a normal method to come alongside.. I had no idea what the tidal movement in the bay was, so I backed off, and then brought the Sabalo parallel to, and about ten yards off the port side of the outboard sub, and let the wind set us down. Which it did with a very loud clang as our ballast tanks met. The Captain, who had his back to the wind and rain during this classy landing said, "That was 0. K., but I wouldn't have done it that way". The officers and men aboard the sub that I cleverly moored next to probably would not have done it that way either. Had I been able to do so, I would gladly have changed places with them, Sabalo Returns to Pearl Harbor Aside from the joy of hugging and kissing my family when I returned to Pearl Harbor, one incident stands out in my mind. Earlier I had mentioned that I was elated by the fact that, Steve Gimber, the Division Commander, had approved of my decision concerning the damaged main motor. A lieutenant from the staff of ComSubPac was waiting on the dock and he said that the action was accepted, but if he had had anything to do with it, he would have had me court martialed because I could have caused more damage to the propulsion system. I told him that we were in a forward area, and I had been more concerned for the safety of the ship and the crew, not what someone sitting at a desk at Pearl Harbor thought. What upset me was that he did not even say that he was pleased that we had returned safely. He was a mustang trying to throw his weight around. Lt. Bell Leaves Sabalo and Joins Civilian Life After that unsettling discussion, I returned to my family and normal people on the dock. My wife Ruth informed me that she and the boys had driven out to Barber's Point to catch the first glimpse of Sabalo when she came into view over the horizon, and then drove back to Pearl for the formal welcoming. And she revealed the great news that while we were on our way back the dental school had sent a letter, which she had opened, and it said that I had been accepted to enter in the Fall in San Francisco. Several days later, while I was waiting for the yeoman to type up my orders releasing me from active duty, I went in to talk with the Captain about our patrol and to tell him that I was pleased to have served under him. He then surprised me by saying that if I wished to stay in the submarine force he would write a letter of recommendation. It was nice to leave the “boat” on that note. I thanked him and said that I had made up my mind to go on to school. A few years later I was elated to learn that I had made the correct decision because Admiral Rickover had ordered the replacement of all fleet boat submariners with new officers, which meant that all of my peers were now to serve in the surface fleet. He assumed that we could not function on the atomic submarines. So this tour was over. We had been assigned the VIP quarters on the way over to Pearl Harbor. In contrast, we returned to Alameda on the Caroline Mars, the last of the large seaplanes. At that time I think she was the only one in service. The pilot let us visit him in the cockpit, even our baby Steve, who was still sitting in a basket. SOME OF THE PEOPLE THAT I REMEMBER FROM SABALO' S PATROL Steve Gimber was a man for whom I had great respect as a friend. Not only was he an excellent naval officer, but also a fine gentleman with a great sense of humor. We first met in San Diego when he was division commander of Bream, Bashaw, and Bluegill. His wife Betty was a joy to be around. One evening, the officers of Bream were having a small party, with wives attending, and we invited the Gimbers. The room that we had set aside had mirrors on three sides and the table paralleled those walls in the form of "U". At one point in the evening, when we were standing near the bar we noticed someone running toward the closed end of the "U" and then stopping abruptly as he ran into the table, it was Commander Gimber. He said that when he started his run he planned to leap over the table, but then he saw this person running right at him. That's what caused him to forgo his jump. Betty Gimber was a fine lady. Whenever I think of her in San Diego, I remember the Army-Navy Game that we watched on TV at the officer's club at North Island. Betty had made several trips to the bar during the game, which Navy was winning handily, and she was thoroughly enjoying. She broke into song, "I wonder where the ensigns are. I'll tell you where they are.......Where are they Steve?" Steve's smile broke into a chuckle. The game ended and Betty announced that Navy should have run up the score. "We should have poured it on." Steve said he understood, but since we are brothers in the service, we have to exhibit good sportsmanship. Betty smiled and said, "I know. I know Steve, but goddamit we shoulda poured it on." What made this so hilarious was this was completely out of character for her. She never acted like this. On another occasion, Steve and Betty had a cocktail party at their Palmyra Drive quarters above Pearl Harbor. Ruth and I were invited. There was one admiral, ComSubPac, six captains, nine commanders, and the wives of these officers. In the service rank is important In the submarine service rank is still important, but there is a feeling of oneness that does not exist in other branches of the Navy. Ruth and I were next to last on the guest list but it made absolutely no difference to those officers who knew that soon I would be going on patrol. Steve died a few years ago. We were so sorry when we heard the news from Betty. She still lives in New Hampshire. We exchange letters at least once a year. Whenever we think of Betty we smile and remember that gracious woman that we were privileged to know and share experiences. Larry Savadkin was commanding officer of Sabalo. He had endured two traumatic experiences, one when he was junior officer aboard Tang. He was operating the torpedo data computer in the conning tower when Tang's last torpedo fired during a night surface attack on a Japanese convoy made a circular run and returned to hit Tang. He managed to escape by getting his head into a large air bubble prior to leaving the ship through the conning tower hatch. He grabbed an enlisted man by the shirt and putted him toward the surface. By the time he got to safety the man had disappeared, presumably drowned, and Tang, as Larry Savadkin said had made her fastest dive. He used his trousers to make "water wings" and remained afloat until the following morning when he was taken aboard a Japanese destroyer escort and beaten. He and other survivors continued to receive cruel treatment until they reached Kobe, where soldiers had to protect them from the civilians, who Larry said would have killed them. From there they were token to Ofuna, a secret naval intelligence prison. The next morning they were informed that they were captives, not prisoners, and since this was not a work camp they would receive one quarter food rations. The guards were men who were considered too unreliable to serve in the regular navy. Larry recounted some of the inhumane incidents such as taking some of the "captives" to the hospital where they were tortured by placing gun powder on their bare chests and setting fire to it to see how it affected the skin. At other times, he and others were awakened in the middle of the night and forced to stand in an awkward position (the Ofuna crouch) until they fell over and then were severely dubbed. When we were in Yokosuka, Larry left the ship to see if he could find the prison camp. Whenever they left the camp during his captivity they were blindfolded, but he oriented himself by the position of the huge electrical power cables. Using the same technique, he found the general area, but the Japanese had rotated the buildings and changed the streets. They did this probably out of shame and fear. Never the less, Larry found where he had been and proved it by tearing up the floor boards and finding a Red Cross food package he had hidden years before to keep the guards from stealing it. When it was evident that Japan had lost, the guards were no longer to be found. When U.S. airplanes dropped barrels of food into the compound he said that they were in danger of being killed by falling food. Somehow he survived the beatings and the starvation, but the hatred he felt for the Japanese seem to be internalized. The Captain always approved the menus. One evening when we were having pork, I asked him, if because he was Jewish, couldn't he get a special dispensation so he could eat what was being served that evening. He said," I can eat anything I want. I just don't like the taste of pork". Herb, the executive officer, Will James and I shared the quarters on the opposite side of the passageway from the Captain's cabin. Will kept many items, mostly odds and ends, under his bunk, which was the bottom one. When the weather caused the seas to get a little rough, some of his many keepsakes rolled loose, and eventually ended in the Captain's cabin. It was then we would hear, "Will, come get your damn stuff”, because there was never any doubt who owned it. Larry Savadkin was a good captain, and I believe, a good man. Herb Harris-Warren was the Executive Officer. His bunk was right above mine and as I remember it, many of his items also kept falling on my bunk. I recall that most of the time his Rosary was hanging down into my space on the bulkhead side. Herb was somewhat reserved which led many to think that he didn't have much of a sense of humor, but he did. He did not talk about his past, or on what ships he had served. I suspect that he felt that it wasn't all that important, it is my understanding that he got a command of his own and that he died in 1972. Bo Foster was probably my favorite of all the junior officers. He was up front about everything including his experiences with his father while growing up in Texas. I mentioned some of them earlier. Bo was usually easy going, but one thing that rankled him just a little was what happened when he had the trim dive in the morning. For some reason, the captain insisted that I be there every morning even though I didn't have the watch. Bo's diving procedure could not have been better. For example, he knew exactly when to blow negative tank to the mark, but as he approached the assigned depth, the captain would call down from the conning tower to the control room and ask, "Bo, have you blown negative"? "Yes, Captain", was the reply. One time he turned to me and said, "I'm gonna get a spot light and have it shine on negative tank gauge so he can look down and see it." We exchanged Christmas greetings for several years after I got out of the Navy, but then we lost contact. Lou Nockold was in charge of periscope photography and worked closely with the Captain and the Exec. His area of expertise was identification, photography, developing, and printing. It probably wasn't true, but in retrospect it seems that officer's quarters always had the red lights on, and he was processing something with negatives hanging everywhere. We still stay in touch every Christmas. Will James was the most intense individual on the ship. While carrying on a conversation with you, Will would stand directly in front of you and look into your eyes. I like to have people look away once in the while, but Will wanted to be sure that he understood you, and that you had his undivided attention. When we returned to Yokosuka from patrol, the captain told Will and me that if we wore those beards on shore once, then we could not shave them off. Mine looked as if I had picked it up at a bad costume shop, so it was no sacrifice to lose it. Will elected to keep his, and wore it when we went up to Tokyo. Commander Gimber came aboard one day and asked Will why he had kept his beard. Will told him of the captain's edict. The Division Commander stared directly into Will's eyes and said, "Shave it off." Several years after I graduated from dental school, I heard that Will had died of a cerebral hemorrhage. Murray Menkes and I got along well except for that one incident with the outboard exhaust valve. He never mentioned why he did not make it in naval aviation. He seemed happy with his life aboard the boats. One time at the officer's club, someone ordered a ‘side car‘. The Japanese waiter gave us a look that left no doubt that he didn’t have a clue, moving his eyes from side to side, looking to us for help. Murray spoke up and said, let me handle this. “The order is for a side-o-car." The waiter's expression changed as he said," Hoe, hoe, side-o-car.” While he was gone, two of the members of our party got into a discussion about who was going to pay for the drink One tried to pull the scrip away from another, saying that he was buying. In so doing the paper money was torn in half. Since Murray communicated so well, he volunteered to ask the waiter for some scotch tape. Again the waiter gave us the blank look, then his eyes lit up and he left the table. He returned shortly with a tumbler full of whiskey, placing it in front of Murray and announced, "Scotch, straight." I am not sure who told me, but I was saddened to be informed some years later that Murray had drowned while on a duck hunting trip. Blake Stothard qualified in submarines after I came aboard. None of the junior officers were old, but he was the youngest The Japanese always referred to him as "Brake", which led to the expression, "Don't Brake Stothard". While on board, he applied, and was accepted for naval air training. He left the ship about the same time I did. While I was in dental school, I visited Will James at Mare Island. He told me that he had received word that Blake had been killed during carrier operations. I can not remember the names of the Chief Electrician or the Chief of the Boat. I do remember their Acey Ducey games, because the Chief of the Boat seldom won. He was permitted to win just often enough to keep up his interest, while the other chief kept reassuring him that he was really getting better. It seemed strange to me that his great improvement seldom resulted in wins. The Chief of the Boat had a great sense of humor. One day when we were in the control room, I mentioned that when Bream was simulating an attack upon our task force leaving Long Beach, we were fortunate to theoretically fire all of our torpedoes. I asked the captain if we could radio San Diego and ask if we could return to port. The chief smiled and told me, "You know we tried that once, and they radioed us twenty four more torpedoes." Some of the most amusing times were spent during those boring hours in the control room when we were submerged. There was an auxillaryman striker who for some reason could not work and talk at the same time. When he was asked a question, he would lay his wrench aside, turn and give an answer. His civilian job was gathering bat guano. Naturally he was asked quite a few questions, such as, if bats are hanging upside down in the cave, how can they crap without having it fall on themselves. The wrench was put down, and he explained that they did move around in a vertical position. Back to work. There were other intriguing questions -- "What does a pound of bat shit sell for?" Once more work stopped and he turned to explain the intricacies of the bat guano market. By now the Chief Auxillaryman had had enough. He went over and said, "I don't want you talking anymore to anybody, not even me until you're finished." Then he used the standard chief petty officer's phrase for all occasions. "From now on when I look in your direction, all I want to see is ass and elbows." Reflecting on the Spirit of Sabalo December 26,2002 will mark one half century (sounds more impressive than fifty years) since Sabalo made her first patrol into the Sea of Japan. She now rests on the bottom off the coast of Southern California. It had little effect upon me until I saw the picture of her stern section with a gaping hole. [The result of her sinking as a torpedo test target.] I stood on that deck and listened to the hum of the engines. I also stood on the bridge and gave orders to regulate the speed of the ship. I have such great respect for all of the enlisted men, those talented individuals that kept Sabalo functioning and brought her safety back to Pearl Harbor on June 26,1953. Admiral Radford said it, and we all agree,
"To the crew of Sabalo, Well Done."
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