Several months absence can put you far behind on submarine news–even of the historic kind.

Breaking news: a new U-Boat wreck has been identified in Norway.  The U-486’s remains, split by a British torpedo, has been found in 820 feet of water off of Norway.

She was only on her second patrol.  Her first had been amazingly successful, especially given that it was late 1944, and Germany was operating from a defensive position, with many experienced submarine hands already having been lost.

U-468 at sea, likely 1944 or early 1945. Original Image from The Local.

U-468 departed for her maiden patrol on November 26, 1944, out of German-occupied Norway, to circle the British Islands.  Armed with acoustic torpedoes, she also sported a new skin: rubberized tiles coated her hull, designed to counter the Allied sonar.  She circled the north of Scotland and down the western coast of Ireland, approaching her assigned patrol area, the English Channel.  She quickly found and sank the cargo ship SILVERLAUREL, who was en route to Hull from Falmouth, carrying tons of supplies, but only a small crew, most of which was saved.

But on Christmas Eve, she’d strike a greater blow: the LEOPOLDVILLE.

The Leopoldville in her passenger days of the 1930's

By 1944, the old Belgian passenger ship has an old hand on the Southampton to Cherbourg run.  She’d transported over 120,000 men in 23 runs, and now took 2,235 more Americans plus some British troops aboard.  Unknown to them, they were destined for the Battle of the Bulge.

As per usual, she and another troop transport, the CHESHIRE, departed with three escort destroyers, BRILLIANT, ANTHONY, and HOTHAM, and the free French ship, CROIX de LORRAINE.  The trip would be quick, less than 12 hours, and the men aboard, who had abandoned their Christmas celebrations in England, would celebrate in France instead.

But there were some differences for the LEOPOLDVILLE.  For the first time, the entire convoy was ordered to zig-zag, a standard anti-submarine move designed to make it more difficult to aim a torpedo accurately.  The reason? U-Boat activity seemed to have picked up recently, though no one had seen any.

Of course, what no one would know until the war’s end, is the German’s had invented the Snorkel, a specialized pipe that allowed a submarine to draw in the necessary air to run their diesel engines without having to surface.  Now, U-Boats could operate relatively safely even in the heavily patrolled and defended British waters, and they were taking full advantage of that.  Snorkels were soon standard equipment, the U-468, watching the convoy, had one aboard.

Aboard the LEOPOLDVILLE, things were a bit in disarray.  For the fifth time, an incomplete and, as it would turn out, highly error-filled passenger list had been delivered before she left the dock.  Inside, the men were ordered to sit in benches in the former cargo holds and cabins, anywhere they could find room.  This lead to some groups being split up.  A lifeboat drill was called, but due to a faulty loudspeaker system, not everyone heard.  Those that reported were not trained in how to lower lifeboats, or the proper way to wear and enter the water while wearing LEOPOLDVILLE’s life jackets.  A minor oversight that would have severe repercussions.  But one wrinkle that may have initially saved lives: the December sea was rough, forcing many of the men in the hold to make a dash for the heads and rails on the upper levels as soon as LEOPOLDVILLE hit open water.

By 1745 (5:45 pm local time), the LEOPOLDVILLE had already been stopped twice, as the BRILLIANT’s sonar made a submarine contact (which may actually have been the U468).  The alert and depth charges didn’t bother the traveling troops, most of whom had suffered similar alerts on the trans-Atlantic trip the month earlier.

Now five miles from the French coast, the U-468 took aim and fired one torpedo, hitting the LEOPOLDVILLE in the starboard stern.

The U-468 headed for the bottom again to dodge the depth charges that quickly came raining down, while on the surface, the men in the depths of the LEOPOLDVILLE struggled through the debris and newly dead to clamber to the higher decks.  Stairs had been blown away, some debris sank, injuring the flailing men, others floated and became their own obstructions.  The men already on the higher decks reached down and hauled as many men to safety as they could, even those severely injured.

Still, as many as 300 died in the initial attack.

The LEOPOLDVILLE’s deck was now flooded with the passengers. Those in the forward sections knew exactly what had happened, and the commanding officers quickly ordered the men to spread out as evenly as possible, to prevent a capsize.

Everyone was quiet and calm. Three of the escorts were actively hunting the U-boat, while the BRILLIANT was trying to raise help from Portsmouth via radio, or Cherbourg, by signal light.  The CHESHIRE stood off at a distance, unable to risk her passengers to save the LEOPOLDVILLE’s.

As the initial minutes passed, LEOPOLDVILLE looked like she might, despite her wound, be able to be towed to shore.  But complications were starting to show, and the disarray of earlier that day was about to be costly.

Portsmouth and Cherbourg were, for security reasons, on different radio frequencies and codes, forcing BRILLIANT to spend a lot of time switching back and forth.  In addition, being Christmas Eve, everywhere was lightly stationed, giving as many as possible the night off.  The many small vessels that crowded Cherbourg’s harbor and normally would have raced to help at the initial strike, were dark and cold, their owners and crews celebrating in town.

LEOPOLDVILLE began to drift in the current, towards a minefield.   Her captain, Charles Limbor, ordered the anchor dropped, a sensible action which would not pay off later.

Ten minutes after that, about 40 minutes after LEOPOLDVILLE was hit, Limbor ordered all non-essential crew to abandon ship, an order not fully understood even today.  With those men gone, few remained who knew how to raise the anchor, lower lifeboats, or safely evacuate the ship in an emergency.

At the same time the crew was rowing away, HMS BRILLIANT finally managed to get a message to Fort L’Ouest, near Cherbourg, which had noticed the drifting LEOPOLDVILLE.  L’Ouest tried to signal the LEOPOLDVILLE, but BRILLIANT answered: “LEOPOLDVILLE hit, need assistance.”  L’Ouest asked what kind of assistance, but BRILLIANT didn’t reply.

The HMS Brilliant at sea. Undated photo.

At that moment, probably one of the bravest and insane rescues started.  With no one coming and the LEOPOLDVILLE in rough seas, BRILLIANT’s captain decided to take a risk and save some of the trapped men if he could.  Sidling his own, smaller but more heavily armed ship next to the LEOPOLDVILLE, he made his ship available for anyone who wanted to…jump.

This was no mean feat.  Even with LEOPOLDVILLE’s scrambling next hung down her side, the seas were tossing the two ships back and forth and up and down.  The BRILLIANT’s deck, one moment was 12 feet below LEOPOLDVILLE’s deck, another moment, twenty feet, yet another, forty.  Then the ships would yaw apart for one moment, before crashing together the next.  Jumping took nerves of steel, and those that didn’t make it…

Blood soon smeared the sides of both ships.

On the BRILLIANT, the survivors broke bones as they landed.  BRILLIANT’s crew grabbed their hammocks, laying them in the “landing zone” to cushion the falls, and evacuated the injured as quickly as possible.

Five hundred men later, the little BRILLIANT could not physically hold many more, and drew away, leaving hundreds still trapped with no way out.  It was 90 minutes after the LEOPOLDVILLE had been hit, but help was finally coming from For L’Ouest and Cherbourg.  The tug ATR-3 was on her way, as were a number of smaller boats, ready to stand by and help as needed.  BRILLIANT’s commanding officer, noting that even now, there was not much on  LEOPOLDVILE, believed that most of the passengers could still be saved. [1]

The Tug ATR-3 threw tow lines to the LEOPOLDVILLE, but too few on board knew how to tie them, or raise the anchor so LEOPOLDVILLE could set underway.  A Coast Guard cutter tried to sidle up beside LEOPOLDVILLE as BRILLIANT had done, but the sea battered her too badly, and she pulled away before many could get onboard.

Lifeboats were lowered, or cut away, with many of the injured on board, as the men started to improvise evacuations.  Captain Limbor marched through the masses, officially ordering “Abandon Ship” in French and Flemish, as the ship’s loudspeakers had died, but few understood him.  Some lept overboard with improperly secured lifejackets.  If not secured snugly enough, the front and back halves of these jackets “clapped” together as the men hit the water, breaking necks.

Suddenly, between 2020 and 2040 hours (10:20 pm – 10:40 pm), approximately five hours after she had been hit, two explosions were heard deep within the ship, blowing hatch covers and men into the water.  LEOPOLDVILLE keeled over and sank in moments.  Those left aboard scrambled over the side and into the water, or simply stepped into the sea as the ship fell beneath them.

Drawing of the Leopoldville sinking, done by Richard Rockwell, nephew of Norman Rockwell, for the book , "SS LEOPOLDVILLE DISASTER" by Allan Andrade.

The water was 48 degrees, and the waxing gibbous moon low in the sky, giving little light.  Some of those thrashing tin the water were still in their full gear and were dragged down by it.  Others managed to drop what they had quickly enough to re-surface.  The small vessels that had stood by now rushed in to grab the living and the dead.  In the dark, it was sometimes difficult to tell which was which.

Captain Limbor went down with his ship, as well as four crewmen from Belgium and the Congo.  Due to the error-filled, incomplete passenger list, it would take days for the British and the US to figure out who and how many had been lost.  No number has yet been released by the British government (even nearly 70 years later) but it’s probably less than 10.  The American number officially stands at 763, though unofficial numbers frequently reach as high as 802.  It was the second worst loss of infantrymen in the Atlantic Theater.

To finish the LEOPOLDVILLE’s story quickly, the men who survived, nearly 1,400 of them, were re-routed away from the Battle of the Bulge, and most survived the war.  They were, however, forbidden to talk about the LEOPOLDVILLE’s loss, and their letters were censored to make sure.  A highly erroneous story about the loss of LEOPOLDVILLE was released to the official press to confuse any German spies (some said LEOPOLDVILLE was a hospital ship, others said it sank too quickly to help the passengers.)  Some in the Navy believed that the LEOPOLDVILLE’s loss reflected so poorly on them (Christmas Eve, for example, should not have been an excuse to half-staff ports when a convoy was expected, communication should have been more coordinated in case of emergency, especially since U-boat attacks were rising, a lifeboat drill should have been done, records kept accurately) that the story was buried, and the families given few details.  The loss of the LEOPOLDVILLE was little known for decades.[2]

Painting of the Leopoldville wreck, as she's seen today.

In the chaos, the U-468, simply waited until Christmas Day dawned.  No one found her, and she spent a quiet Christmas in the same general area she had been on the eve.  On December 26, as the French people were recovering the bodies of those lost on LEOPOLDVILLE from the beaches formerly known as Omaha, U-468 struck again in the same area.

Two frigates, the HMS AFFLECK and the HMS CAPEL, were hit by acoustic torpedoes, the CAPEL sinking with the loss of eighty-five men.  The AFFLECK, having lost 9 in the initial strike, was stable enough to be quickly towed to the over-crowded Cherbourg harbor, and left as a total loss until the war’s end.

Map showing the location of the three known attacks of the U-468. Both LEOPOLDVILLE and CAPEL went down near the now-famous Normandy beaches that had been taken only six months earlier.

With four kills under her belt, U-468 returned to Norway.  After three months, she was sent out again on April 9.  Three days later, the submarine HMS Tapir, patrolling near Bergin, heard the U-468.  Nineteen minutes later, U-468 surfaced for Tapir’s periscope.  Four minutes after that, Tapir fired 6 torpedoes, one of which hit the U-468.

From the Taipir’s log book:;

0755 hours—One hit was observed on the enemy submarine, which blew up and was seen to disintegrate.  A huge column of brown smoke arose some 500 feet in the air. Breaking up noises were heard on the Asdic  [British equivalent of Sonar] and after the smoke had cleared nothing more could be seen.”

No more was ever heard of the U-468 until now.  Found by accident by Statoil company while seeking a oil pipeline route underwater, U-468 will be left alone with her crew of 48.  Her wreck confirms what Tapir saw, she disintegrated into two pieces.

Sonar image of the U-468's wreck. Her bow has been severed, and she lays on her starboard side. From The Local.

Hopefully, though her wreck location is known, she will be left in peace there.

Some other submarine wrecks haven’t been so lucky this year.

U 468's conning tower, with the periscopes still attached at the top. From the Local

For more information:

First, my favorite:  a unique telling of the sinking of the SS LEOPOLDVILLE:

The first ship U-468 sank, the Silverlaurel: http://www.wrecksite.eu/wreck.aspx?9962

An account of the LEOPOLD’s sinking: http://www.uboat.net/history/leopoldville.htm

LEOPOLD’s Sinking from a survivor and what happened to the men after: http://www.lonesentry.com/gi_stories_booklets/66thinfantry/index.html

An account of the LEOPOLDVILLE sinking seen from the BRILLIANT: http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/ww2peopleswar/stories/54/a1904654.shtml

Another personal account from that convoy: http://donmooreswartales.com/2013/03/04/val-peterson/#more-11752

An announcement of U-468’s wreck discovery: http://www.thelocal.de/gallery/news/1777/8/

News keeps coming out of the world of the submarines, both past and present, and in a way, future.

Three days after the man who set the May 23 and 16 June, 2012 fires on the USS Miami, yes another small fire was reported on March 18, 2013.  While this fire does appear to be purely accidental (reported as being sparked by a  damaged light fixture), it put Miami’s future in further doubt.

Initially determined to put Miami back in service, the Navy had to start making decisions about what and where to best put their money after the sequestration kicked in on 1 March 2013.  This most recent fire has only furthered those questions about whether Miami is most effective for the Navy refurbished and back in service, or torn apart (possibly for parts for her sisters).   As it is, the civilian workers at the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard are already going to have to take 22 days off without pay between April and September 30, which, of course, further slows the rate or repairs.

On the other hand, the US House passed a bill that would still preserve the construction of two Virginia-class Submarines in 2014, setting aside the approximate $777 million dollar cost for their materials and work for that calendar year.  That bill has headed to the Senate.

This debate opens up a new and interesting debate that’s been slowly growing in the Submarine Force.  Each submarine is the pinnacle of her era’s technology, and is constantly being updated between patrols and tours.  That being said, at the pace of technology, not to mention nuclear fuel rods, most submarines have a certain life-expectancy.  If you replace the fuel rods once, a submarine can expect to serve 32-33 years (Los Angeles, the longest in-commission submarine served 34 years from 1976 to 2010.  Currently, the USS Bremerton, (1981-current) is the closest to beating her title at 32 years and counting.).  But at the height of the Cold War, the American Navy was commissioning 2-5 submarines in a year.  Right now, Virginia class submarines, from the Virginia to the new John Warner, were being built and commissioned at the rate of one every other year to one a year.  On 2008 and 2010 two were commissioned, and two submarines were started in each year for 2011 and 2012.  If this bill goes through, the two subs for 2013 (likely the South Dakota and Delaware) will also start construction.

At the same time, the aging Los-Angeles Class boats are being phased out, frequently at a faster rate than the new constructions are being phased in.  From 2004-2007, only three Virginia class submarines joined the US Navy, (Virginia, Texas and Hawaii), while six submarines were deactivated (Hymen G. Rickover, Augusta (finally deactivated early Jan 2008, but scheduled for 2007) Salt Lake City, Honolulu, Portsmouth, and Parche).  This resulted in a net loss of three submarines.  While things are balancing out a little more, as some of the oldest boats in the Navy reach 30+ years of age, the Navy has serious issues to grapple with.

Submarines are some of our most versatile vessels.  They can go where surface ships can’t, whether by treaty or treacherous sea conditions.  Most submarines are positioned to be in a strategic position to strike any location on earth within a 24 hour time frame (or so I’m told).  Smaller numbers of submarines available means longer deployments, longer times between repairs, perhaps longer lifespans and limitations on technology as upgrades cannot be fitted into a boat without ripping her apart to her hull.

I’m not sure what the right answer is.  Each Virginia costs a $2-$2.4 BILLION each, but are designed to be highly versatile.  And the Virginia’s will age: Virginia herself is nine years old this year.  Building new is expensive.

But the expense in decommissioning or drawing down the number of decommissioned boats is also expensive.  AS anyone who owns an older car can tell you, breakdowns seem to occur more frequently as a car ages—and a sub is no exception.

Small Fire on the Miami: http://www.wmur.com/news/nh-news/Small-fire-reported-on-USS-Miami/-/9857858/19364840/-/2whb5tz/-/index.html

Virginia Submarines: http://www.onr.navy.mil/en/Media-Center/Fact-Sheets/Cost-Reduction-VA-Class-Subs.aspx

Well, I expected to hear quite a bit about the Miami weeks ago, but all was quiet for a long time.  Then this morning, that story took an abrupt and strange turn.

My specialty in submarines lies in their development up to WWII.  That’s not to say I’m not interested in Cold War submarines or modern submarines, but it’s SO MUCH EASIER to get direct information about that time period (when most classifications have been dropped) than the modern time period (where they’re nice and healthy and in place–and from the scuttlebutt I’ve heard strongly hinted at, likely to be for many decades, if not, “Ooops!  A match just fell into this box of sensitive documents.  What will we do?”)  But to my knowledge, there’s been no arson aboard a submarine.

Until now.

The story about the vacuum was on its way to being a freak accident in the annals of submarine history, when a second fire happened in the Miami’s dry-dock cradle on June 16.  It was quickly extinguished, but got investigators thinking that this was one fire too many, so started looking deeper into every aspect of the fire.  And at the bottom of it, they found a very anxious young man.

A drydock worker, named Mr. Casey James Fury, has been arrested and arraigned in federal court this morning with two counts of arson. (Since the Miami is federal property, causing damage to her is a federal offense) He was initially questioned about the small fire in the drydock and soon confessed to that, but denied any involvement in the large fire on May 23.  It was only when investigators told him he had failed the lie detector test that the whole story came out.

It seems that Mr. Fury clocked in for his shift at the Miami on 4 pm on May 23 and reported to work as a painter and sandblaster in the forward section of the torpedo room.  This is deep in the belly of the submarine, seen in the diagram below.  According to the Navy paper, that day, Fury was needle gunning in the torpedo room, or blasting paint and/or corrosion using a pneumatic or electric tool called a needle gun, which is used on irregular surfaces.  At 5:30, he claims he suddenly felt really anxious, grabbed his lighter and cigarettes and went one deck up to the Crew’s Quarters (some articles say “stateroom” which normally would imply an officer’s cabin, but this area is not listed among the damaged compartments, so that could be a misstatement).  Spotting a bag of rags and a vacuum on a top rack, set the rags on fire, leaving when the flames were about two inches high.  The vacuum therefore, had nothing to do with the fire, other than proximity.  Fury then went back to his assigned location and waited for the fire alarm to go off.

All so he could get out of work for the day.  Twelve hours later, dozens of firefighters at risk from three states, seven injured, this fire was finally out.

And the vacuum was eventually announced as the culprit in a truly bizarre accident.

But then Fury had another bad day.  in the early evening of June 16, Fury had a text conversation with an ex girlfriend which worried him, and he felt he needed to get off of work.  Ironically, he was assigned to be “safety watch” that day in Miami’s drydock cradle.  From what I can find, the safety watch’s job is just what it sounds like, to keep everyone safe.  Part of that involves making sure flammable materials and sources of fire are kept separate, extinguishing fires if they start, fighting fires or hitting fire alarm for evacuation if necessary, and making sure, at the end of a shift, that there are no embers, or fire sources still active.

According to the investigator interviewed for the Navy Times, after Fury decided he had to leave early, this is what he did:

“Fury explained that he became anxious over the text conversation with his ex-girlfriend and wanted to leave work,” Gauthier said in an affidavit. “At around 6:30, he started pacing in the area of the [Main Ballast Tanks] and eventually walked aft toward a cut out in the hull near the back of the boat. His mind was racing.”

Fury grabbed some alcohol wipes, setting them on wood in the dry dock cradle. He ignited the wipes with a lighter and walked back to his work area, when the fire alarm sounded and the workers left the boat. The flames were put out before they reached 18 inches high.”

Soon, someone reported seeing a drydock employee in company jumpsuit and hard hat in the area of the fire moments before it was noticed, and soon the investigation apparently settled on Fury.  He was interviewed on July 18 about the June 16 fire, and eventually admitted to it, while denying the Mat 23rd fire.  It wasn’t until July 20, just four days ago,when the full story came out.  To test him, the investigators asked him to retrace his steps on May 23rd aboard the USS Pasadena, an identical submarine to Miami in dryddock there in Portsmouth, then again aboard the Miami herself.  However he explained himself, it was apparently enough to arrest Fury on Friday and arraign him yesterday.

Fury has apparently had his share of problems.  On four different medications for Anxiety, Depression, Insomnia and Allergies, he claims he initially didn’t come forward because of is fuzzy memory of that time.  To his credit, he did check himself into a mental health facility on June 21, six days after the second fire, and checked himself out two days later on June 23rd.

Now he faces life in prison, and a steep fine, as well as potential restitution.

And the story is still not done.  The fate of the Miami still hangs in the balance.  The official estimate of her repairs, for whatever reason, has not been announced, and the Navy is facing budget cuts this year and next.  How deep those cuts will be still hangs on either passing a budget in Congress or raising the debt ceiling.  The only thing that has been announced regarding her repairs, is that if they’re done, they’ll be done there in Portsmouth.

Sources for this blog post and more information:

Stars and Stripes (military paper) about the Miami fire and how it happened

Navy Paper on the same fire

Daily News article on Miami arson and arsonist

Foster’s Daily Democrat Article about Miami Fire and Fury–some interesting details

One of these day’s I’ll be able to get back to the announcement of a new U-Boat wreck recently discovered (or re-discovered) near Scotland.  I’ve been enjoying researching that story because the U-1206 was one of those boats that we KNOW sank through mechanical failure, and we know how it happened because most of her crew survived (I’ll give you a hint: the seawater that sank the 1206 came in through something most of us sit on to let water OUT)

But some more news came out about the USS Miami this morning, and I wanted to strike while the iron was still hot, as the old saying goes.

And who would have thought a household(ish) appliance would be responsible?

After the Miami was vented, then explored, the Navy was able to assess the damage.  Among those that went through the Miami were Maine’s two senators, Olympia Snowe and Susan Collins, and Maine’s representative from their First District (which includes Kitterey Maine, where the Portsmouth Shipyard is located) Chellie Pingree.  In addition, Joe Courtney, the representative from Connecticut’s second district (which includes nearby  New London and Groton Connecticut, each major submarine locations, including a submarine-equipped drydock and shipyard) spoke with Navy representatives at the Commissioning of the USS Mississisppi (SSN-782) on June 2. (And WELCOME Mississippi to the Submarine Force!  May you serve long and honorably, together with your crew!–more on her in another post)

First, the damage:  Most accounts agree that the following compartments were damaged:  The Torpedo Room, the Command and Control Center, and some of Crew’s Living Quarters.  Connecticut’s newspaper, The Day, states that crew’s berthing, specifically, was damaged.  Another newscast that specifically cites Sen. Snowe highlighted the “Sonar Room” as one of the highly damaged areas.  Together, that means the damaged sections of Miami are located (roughly) here:

The cross section of a Los-Angeles submarine with the allegedly damaged areas highlighted in red.

Thankfully, there were no weapons on board when this happened and it doesn’t sound like (at least no one’s mentioning it) that the batteries were in any way ruptured, even though they were just below the torpedo room.  In that interview that includes Senators Snowe and Collins, two of the firefighters talked about fighting the blaze–like going into a tin can where the fire’s temperatures are just intense.  Getting in and out of the sub, they said, was like descending into a chimney, but there is no choice.  The worst damage, from all accounts, is in the Control and Command Center and Sonar Compartment, located on the top level.

This is likely Miami's control room, as photographed by the Navy during her 1994 overhaul. According to reports, this room was likely one of the most damaged in the May 23 fire. The only thing I recognize, which hints that this is the control room, is the helm that's just there on the right of the photo. I have to smile when I see the tarps pinned over the dials on the helm's instrument panel. When a similar helm from USS Silversides (II) SSN-679 was delivered to the USS Silversides Submarine Museum, some of those same dials had been removed and replaced by covered wooden corks. Some things are just going to remain classified. Photo source: navsource.org

Miami has been drained and had temporary lights and staging equipment installed, and just late yesterday the cause of the fire was announced:

A Vacuum.

…..?!!!!!

The vacuum in question, whose name, make, model, kind, ect., is still unannounced at this time, was in an unoccupied compartment when the fire started.  Being in an unoccupied compartment probably helped the blaze to spread more quickly than if it had started in an occupied compartment.

But two details that I managed to find, located in the Boston Herald and The Day, added more details to this story.

The Boson Herald’s article states that the vacuum, when the fire started, was UNPLUGGED.  The Day, quoting Rep. Courtney, said that Courtney was told “the Miami blaze started after burning embers in the vacuum ignited other refuse in the machine.”  Makes sense to me.  To complicate matters further and give the fire more time to settle in, the first responders initially went to the wrong level in the submarine, before locating the blaze.  It’s possible, though no one knows (or is saying publicly), that the fire alarm which initially alerted the Miami’s crew and workers to the fire, gave the wrong location of the fire, leading to the confusion.

So that’s how it started and got strong enough to require nearly 12 hours of suppression to put it out.

A photo of crew's berthing from Miami's close sister sub, USS Asheville. Modern US nuclear submarines practice "hot bunking" where two crewmembers share a bunk in alternating shifts. That aside, think about trying to fight a fire down here, two decks below the only way out! Likely in the dark! Source: navsource.org

While initial repair estimates varied (Connecticut Senator Richard Blumenthal quoted initial repairs at $700 million to $1 billion), the current (very) rough estimate the Navy cited is $400 million dollars, plus another $40 million for cost overruns, since Miami, if she’s repaired, will now be in Portsmouth much longer than her original scheduled release of November 2013.  That $40 million will cover rescheduling and reshuffling other repairs, other sub’s schedules, and possibly hiring other contractors to cover parts of various projects this will now cause or inconvenience.

The Navy and the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard is quick to point out that investigations are still ongoing and that quote may change.  Right now, Miami is having her internal and external hulls examined for more damage.  Any heat warping or damage here will be VERY expensive to fix.  JAG is still conducting its investigation.  NCIS, having concluded that the fire was not arson or any criminal involvement, has closed theirs.  The results of all the various investigations are expected to conclude soon with an announcement sometime at the end of next week (June 15 or so) about the full extent of the damage, Miami’s fate, and the costs of either recycling or repairs.  So we still have to wait for the conclusion of this story.

From Miami's close sister, USS Asheville, a torpedo room photo. Granted, the torpedoes were off the Miami during the fire, but this might give a hint and the close and cramped quarters a submarine really has. And by the time the fire fighters got this far down, they had to descend THREE decks. The battery, by the way, is just beneath this deck. Batteries which don't like heat. And do like to explode in the right conditions. Those are some firefighters! Source: navsource.org

And those firefighters were probably wearing gear similar to this. Again from the Asheville, taken in 2007 during a civilian dive day, the crew demonstrates fire fighting techniques. Each fireman would have to carry his own air, which, according to articles, only held a half-hour's air. You could carry two. (as an aside, it was December when this photo was taken, and you can get the sense how submariners decorate for the holidays on board) Source: navsource.org

The Navy has a general standing policy of fixing her boat and surface ships whenever possible.  It’s often cheaper to do so.   The Miami, with 22 years service under her belt, cost $900 million to build initially, and has already undergone at least two previous overhauls (1994 in Groton and 2002 in Portsmouth, which included extensive modernization).  The modern Virginia-class boats which are now rolling off the ways in Newport News (VA) and Groton (CT) each cost $2.6 billion, hence the reason we don’t build as many submarines as we used to.  I counted three under construction right now, with delivery dates varying from the Minnesota estimated to be commissioned late next year, to the North Dakota whose keel was laid only this past May 11.  Construction will take between 15-20 months, testing a further 5-8.) So, provided Miami’s repairs aren’t too expensive for the potential years the Navy could now get out of her, they’ll likely keep her.  Right now, that’s the scuttlebutt, that she will be kept, but the final decision is, of course, pending on those final results of the various investigations.

There is, as it turns out, one more resource at hand to help Miami: her older sister, MEMPHIS (SSN 691).  Memphis, who is also a Los Angeles submarine like Miami, served from 17 December 1977 to 1 April 2011.  She came to Portsmouth to begin the inactivation process, which includes de-fueling the reactor (and storing or reprocessing the nuclear rods), shutting down the sub and removing any usable equipment, removing the entire reactor COMPARTMENT before making her watertight and sending her off to be recycled.  So, Miami has a (kind of) twin full of spare parts, sitting in a drydock not too far away which could reduce the costs of bringing her back into service. (Both in money and in time)

Taken on her way to be decommissioned, this is the USS Memphis, whose parts may go back into service aboard the Miami. Source: navsource.org

That’s where the Miami stands for now.  Her future seems to be gleaming again, but the final decision is still coming.  Incidentally, while researching this post, I did some digging into what Miami has been up to for the last 22 years.  It’s always difficult (if not downright impossible) to figure out what and where a submarine is at any given time, but what I did find about her career is interesting.  More on that later.  And the U-1206.  And the mini Japanese submarine recently discovered outside SYDNEY harbor, Australia.  And the USS Mississippi…

For more information (besides the links in the article)

http://rt.com/usa/news/miami-nuclear-sub-blaze-254/  (This article also references a similar fire on Dec 29 2011 aboard the YEKATERINBERG in Russia.  YEKATERINBERG is being repaired and put back into service.)

http://portsmouth-nh.patch.com/articles/pnsy-officials-vacuum-cleaner-caused-uss-miami-fire 

Health issues and client work (I do graphic arts and writing in addition to the historical research for this blog…besides all the regular stuff you do with and for your family!) have bogged me down lately, but I do pay attention to some of the search terms that bring people here, and I want to give my readers what they want (or stories they may never find otherwise!) so with a <gasp> moment today, here we go…

There have been submarines in the news a lot lately…from the wreck of the WWII Japanese midget submarine recently discovered off Sydney Australia, to the recently discovered U-1206, to US First Lady Michelle Obama sponsoring the new submarine USS Illinois (joining ranks with former First ladies Laura Bush and Hillary Clinton)…the list goes on and on.

It’s unusual to see this many submarines all at once, but interesting.

As I’ve reached a breathing space in my most recent project for a museum client, I decided to tackle the news story that I noticed a lot of searches for lately: The fire aboard the Miami last week.

Miami, first of all, is a Los-Angeles class submarine which entered service in 1990.  The Los Angeles class boats are the third largest class of submarines in the Navy (second only to the WWII-era Balao and Gato classes, respectively) and have been serving since 1976.  If the Navy continues in their policies, it is unlikely that any Los-Angeles class submarine will be opened for public display as a museum ship, so what we know about their layout relies on information the Navy releases.

Like all nuclear submarines, Miami occasionally has to go into drydock, not only for the normal repairs for regular wear-and-tear that the sea puts on any ocean vessel, but also possibly to overhaul/replace the nuclear plant or fuel rods.  A lot of what exactly happens is, obviously, top secret and kept vague, but what has been released is that Miami entered drydock at Portsmouth Naval Shipyard (Kittery, Maine) for a scheduled 20-month overhaul on March 1, 2012.  Once secure, her nuclear plant was shut down, though her nuclear fuel rods were left on board.   From what I understand from nuc sub vets, if a sub is undergoing significant overhauls or repairs, shutting down the nuclear plant seems to be a standard step.    All weapons, from torpedoes and missiles down to likely the small arms, were also removed.

A submarine is a much more cramped and limited space to work and live in than a surface ship, and when you combine that with welders, braziers, grinders, electricity and other sources of sparks and flame, it can get…interesting.  To that end, whenever there is a possibility of fire, there is a fire watch on duty.  His job is to make sure every safety precaution is taken to keep fire from breaking out and, if it does, keep it from spreading.

The fire on Miami started around 5:45 pm on May 23, 2012, and burned for 12 hours, 5 minutes.  From all accounts, it was a fierce blaze.  These quotes jumped out at me from the accounts I’ve been reading:

“There was stuff burning that I didn’t even know could burn on a submarine,” John Dwire Jr., one of the firefighters, said Tuesday.

Deep inside the hull, Dwire said, he had to cut through the burning wires and cables overhead and then duck or crawl just to get to the fire in the forward section of the Groton-based attack submarine.

“Submariners had their hands full with Miami Blaze” by Jennifer McDermott, the Connecticut Day, May 30, 2012

“It’s like going into a chimney,” said Portsmouth Naval Shipyard firefighter David Funk, who described insulation and wiring fueling a smoky fire that became hot enough for aluminum to burst into flames.

Firefighters offer harrowing account of Maine sub blaze as investigators work to assess damage”  The Washington Post, May 25 2012

Smoke billows from the Miami through the night as the crews worked. Due to the heat, toxic fumes, and oxygen problems, firefighters had to work in shifts, often lasting less than an hour.

In total, seven people were injured between the fire and the fighting, but all, thankfully, have  already been released from medical care.

How or what caused the fire on Miami has not been disclosed, and a thorough investigation is underway about it.  The problem with studying the Sub Force is, for security reasons, we (the public) might never be told the details of all that happened.  Still, what has been released is the fire was located in the command and control and living quarters of the Miami, which puts the fire about here:

A cross section of a Los-Angeles submarine with the possible burned sections (according to description) highlighted.

Apparently, once the firefighters left the submarine, the damaged sections of the boat were sealed, preventing a small stray spark from reigniting another fire.  It’s only been recently that the Miami was opened, vented, and inspected.

From what I’ve been able to find out, the investigation will now (likely) center on some the following questions:

1.) What started the fire and how did it spread?

2.) Were all fire precaution procedures followed?

3.) Where was the fire watch when this went on?

4.) Did everyone follow procedures to limit human injury and casualty and damage to the Miami?

5.) Was this preventable based on current safety procedures (and if so, who carries the blame?)

6.) If this was due to a unique or unforeseen set of circumstances, will more or better fire procedures prevent this from happening again?

There are likely more questions, but those are the ones that seem to pop up in my reading.   On the line could be the careers of the shipyard’s CO (if he did not enforce proper procedures that could have prevented or lessened the damage to Miami), the CO of the Miami (same reason on board his boat) the Fire Watch on duty (if he had fallen asleep or somehow been absent from or derelict in his duty, for example), anyone else involved,  and the future of the Miami herself.

The investigation is currently estimated to be complete in 2-3 weeks.

Miami was scheduled to be practically torn apart and reassembled over the next 18 months, so her future will be partially dependent on what the fire DID.  There are rumors (gotta love scuttlebutt) that the portion of the boat that was damaged was already pretty well gutted, so that’s a point in her favor.  Officially, over 3 million gallons of water were used in dousing the blaze, and some compartments were nearly flooded, so there’s bound to be some water damage as well as fire.  If the heat of the fire damaged her frame or structure in some way that would make her susceptible to underwater weakness, or something else that would seriously compromise the Miami without extensive repairs, the Navy may choose to scrap her instead, despite her relatively young 22 years.  If the damage would cause only a few more months and millions, and the forecasted use of the Miami over the next twenty years outweighs having one less US submarine in the oceans, they may decide to add the fire repairs to the roster and keep moving forward.

How these decisions are made are complex and multi-faceted.  When the San Francisco ran into an underwater mountain in 2005 and practically removed her bow up to the forward battery (one of the few times you can clearly see the sonar array in a submarine’s bow), one of the factors that saved her from being scrapped was the fact that she had just recently come out of an overhaul, including a complete refueling.  It was more cost-effective, from the Navy’s point of view, to keep the San Francisco with her new fuel rods and updated technology, and replace San Fran’s bow with the bow of her soon-to-be-retired sister USS Honolulu.

The exposed bow of the San Francisco after her collision. The ruined sphere that looks like it's made small tiles is the sonar dome. Source: NavSource

A fire that ended a submarine’s career early was the fire on the USS Bonefish in 24 April 1988.  While at sea, a leak caused a battery explosion and fire.  The fire was so intense that it reached 1200 degrees and melted the crew’s shoe soles on the deck above the battery compartment.  Three men died and the Bonefish was abandoned at sea.  The remaining 89 submariners were rescued by helicopters from two nearby aircraft carriers and a whaleboat.  The damage, once Bonefish was towed into drydock and examined, was too severe to fix, and she was scrapped.

USS Bonefish fire at sea. The smoke (and toxic fumes) from the fire are billowing out one of the few vents available to it. The crew is gathering on deck preparing to abandon ship. The helicopter is from a naval aircraft carrier that happened to be nearby, and the lifeboat is likely from the whaleboat that assisted with rescue.

So what happens to the Miami the next few weeks and months will depend on the findings of the investigation.  Whatever is announced to the public, it’s likely that if she’s saved, the damage was minimal, or minimal enough to warrant her return to the force.

We can all hope for the best, and be thankful that whatever happens, if there is a casualty, it’ll be Miami, none of her crew.

For more information:

http://bubbleheads.blogspot.com/2012/05/fire-on-uss-miami.html  (Written by a former submariner so he knows what he’s talking about)

http://www.theday.com/article/20120530/NWS09/305309928/10

http://www.unionleader.com/article/20120529/OPINION01/705299999  (Features some of the repercussions that the Portsmouth Yard could face due to the fire.)

http://www.seacoastonline.com/articles/20120527-NEWS-205270338  This article features more about the fire watch and how the procedures that are normally followed in drydock cases.

When I was a kid, Memorial Day to me was a weekend where Dad got to stay home an extra day,  weekend when we opened our pool and planted our garden.  Despite their best efforts to teach us about what Memorial Day really meant, it was hard for me to really comprehend it.  My grandfather served in WWII, my Uncle was in the Air Force in the 70′s, but both survived.  There was no close relative or friend who I knew who had gone away and HADN’T returned, no photo of that missing uncle or cousin, the grandparent who I knew only from stories, so despite my respect for veterans that my parents instilled in me and my siblings, it was a kind of an abstract concept for me for many years–in fact, well into my young adulthood.

It’s so different now.  I still don’t have that relative or friend who hasn’t returned from a warfront, whether WWII or Afghanistan or Iraq, though I know many who are serving and have served our country in the current theaters.  But working with veterans and listening to their stories, happy, sad, frightening, wistful, has opened a door into that world that I can no longer NOT see.  I’ve seen Submarine Veterans who literally live with ghosts, and have for years, of friends who they took R&R with, who schooled with, who got on a different boat and simply vanished.  In talking to Al Jacobson and Jim Alls of the Flier crew, and the relatives of the men who never returned, I’ve gotten to “know” in a little way, these men who were so bright an vibrant and have remained frozen in youthr decades now.  It’s so easy, especially when we’re young and “immortal”,  for us just to see old men who can’t stop telling stories about days long gone and a world that no longer exists…but when I finally  listened, I got to see the 18 year old behind the wrinkles, the greying hair, the cane, and hearing aids…and I got to meet the men who are fading into the mist if we DON’T listen.  Who had dreams, and families, and plans which never flowered…and my gratitude grew so much…and I’m so thankful.

So this Memorial Day, I’m still planting my garden with my kids, still celebrating the world my family and I are blessed to live in, but I do so with a thankful and sad heart that for some people, those who never returned, those who returned with struggles they did not have to bear, and those who bore their part at home.   I have greater respect than ever (sadly, six years too late) for my own grandfather who fought with Patton through the African Theater into Italy and Berlin, and who never spoke of it.  I wish I could tell him, what I say now: to anyone who has served, is serving, or will serve:

THANK YOU

Thank you for putting your life and dreams on hold to live where you’re told, wear what you’re told, and work together to do something, and even die doing something so that I can live at home and not have to fear.  Thank you for leaving your comfortable and familiar world to enter situations where life, death, and injury were sometimes a matter of luck, or seconds, or a few feet right or left.  Thank you for being willing to experience horrors to keep them from us.  Thank you for serving so I can live in a world where my biggest worries CAN revolve around the price of gas,  and the quality of my children’s education, not if someone will invade and rape, murder, torture me or steal my food and house and children, like so many of my ancestors had to worry about for centuries, and many people around the world still do.  Thank you for being some of the first on the scene in natural disasters here and around the world.  Thank you for being among  the first to build schools and help build in places blighted by violence and natural disasters.  Thank you for not only protecting those of us you leave behind in America, but protecting and serving those people whom have little connection to your personal world before you joined, and whom you may never see again.

Our military, both individually and collectively, isn’t perfect.  No human is, so no organization of humans can be. But when I watch all the branches of our military, and listen to those who are willing to talk, I see people who give their all, and do their best in situations that they are protecting me from.  There are no snipers in my neighborhood.  No warlords taking my daughter in lieu of food a drought won’t let me grow.  No one putting a gun to my head and threatening me or my family unless we change our faith, or politics, or opinions.  I will never have to choose between giving my children a good education at the risk of their lives…

And our men and women in uniform, past, present, and future, are a big part of the reason why.

So this Memorial Day, (as well as everyday) I want to say “Thank You” again.  For just doing what you do the best that you can, in often difficult, dangerous, and uncomfortable situations.

THANK YOU.

Long story short, I’ve been away due to a minor health issue that is just sapping my energy (it’ll resolve itself soonish) and and ramp up in my contract work that’s mostly due soon. Both those things sap my energy and time so that this blog, sadly, got the short shaft. I have, however, in the process, discovered a lot more about the Submarine Force adn some of the stories behind it, so those will make their way here soon, when my health/energy improves or my docket clears up some.

But I did want to say that I’ll be speaking at 10 am tomorrow at the E.B Ball Center in Muncie, about the Flier and be signing my book. So if you’d like to see some of the photos that didn’t make the book, or were discovered too lately to use, or just talk submarines, I hope to see you there.

USS Shark was an older Porpoise class submarine n December 7, 1941.  Launched in 1935, she had been in Manila for a full year when the Japanese attacked Manila harbor just hours after laying waste to Pearl.  Like most of the submarines, she survived the attack, and left on patrol the next day.  Like Swordfish, Shark was recalled to Manila to evacuate Manila personnel, in this case, Admiral Thomas Hart, Commander in Chief of the Asiatic Fleet.

Her career after this, was sadly, very short. So short, in fact, that no record of her War Patrol Reports is found at HNSA, which lists and carries all submarine War Patrol Reports from WWII.  So it appears that after December 8, 1941, Shark was never in port at a Sub Base long enough to file her war patrol reports, and sank with all of her records.  Without this record in her own words, we can only speculate about her movements.

On January 6, 1942, Shark radioed home saying she narrowly missed a torpedo dropped by a Japanese submarine. After observing Ambon Islands in theMoluccas, she headed north on the Molucca Passage, on her way to join a pack of submarines patrolling the area, as the Japanese worked their way quickly south.

February 2, she reported to Java that she’d been depth-charged, and missed a Japanese ship.  Febrary 7, she radioed in, reporting chasing an empty cargo vessel.  According to Clay Blair Jr.’s book, “Silent Victory: the US Submarine War against Japan.”, Admiral John Wilkes, coordinating and commanding the submarines from Java, upbraided Hart for breaking radio silence for a report on an empty cargo ship.

It was the last radio message from the Shark.

The next day, February 8, Shark was ordered to to proceed to Makkassar Strait.  She never responded.  She was ordered to respond.  And didn’t.  On March 18, the Navy released the following Communique:

Navy Department Communiqué No. 57, March 18, 1942

The U. S. submarine Shark has been overdue in the Far East for more than a month and must be presumed to be lost.  The next of kin of the personnel of the Shark have been notified.

During the month of December, the U. S. submarine Sealion which was under extensive overhaul at Cavite, was so damaged as to necessitate her demolition to prevent her use by the enemy in the event of capture.

After the war, Japanese records revealed a number of attacks on the 11^th, 17^th and 21^st of February.  There were many English and Dutch submarines in addition to American subs, which may have been attacked, so until the Shark is discovered, it’s impossible to connect any particular date with her demise.

In her honor, Shark was honored with a little sister, Shark (II), SS-314.  Shark (II) commissioned 14 February 1944.  Serving three patrols, she shared her older sister’s fate.  Another, nuclear submarine, Shark (III) SSN-591 was named in both their honors.  Shark (III) thankfully, seemed to escape her sister’s fate.

The Shark (I) sleeps with 59 souls.

Rest in Peace.

<sigh> it seems like no matter my intentions, eventually I get bogged down by sick kids, and constant mommying. Or exhaustion.  I worked 20 hours a week through college, did extracirriculars, worked two jobs every summer.  I thought I was tired then!  It’s nothing compared to active young ones!  I love it, but I now must apologize to the men of USS E-2, USS S-26, USS S-36, USS Scorpion (I), and my readers.  To the subs and your crews, your stories are not forgotten and will be posted (albeit retroactively).  To my readers, I know, I keep apologizing.  One day, I’ll get this right! Thanks for the understanding.

USS Barbel, SS-316, was built and Commissioned April 13, 1944.  She actually commissioned with her sister Razorback (now on display at the Arkansas Inland Maritime Museum) and beat Razor to the war zone.

She had three successful war patrols under her commissioning officer, Cmdr. Robert A. Keating.  In an era when submarines were so successful they were starting to put themselves out of work, Barbel was a busy hunter.  During her first patrol she claimed four kills, three on her second patrol, and two on her third patrol, for a wartime total of nine ships in just five months.  Actually, rather impressive.  (The Joint Army-Navy Assessment Committee (JANAC) later lowered that total to six, discounting one on the first patrol and two on the second)

During this time, the Allies were storming the Pacific.  The battle of Leyte Gulf happened during Barbel’s second patrol, and by her third patrol, the Allies were already deeply in the Philippines, landing on Mindoro Island.  Soon, the Japanese would be completely cast out of that nation.

Submarine bases were changing and moving too.  When USS Flier was pulling out for her last patrol on 2 August 1944, there were really only three (maybe four, if you counted Midway and no one wanted to R&R there.  No girls, only gooney birds.  Lousy dates!) bases: Pearl Harbor, Freemantle/Perth Australia and Brisbane, Australia.  But so much changed in the few weeks between 12 August when Flier left for eternity and 21 August when Barbel came in from her first run that she actually had R&R on Majuro Atoll with the submarine tender USS Bushnell (AS-15) who set up base that much closer to the front lines only a short time earlier.

After her second patrol, she R&R-ed in Saipan Harbor where she was refitted and sent out on her third war patrol in just seven days.

After her third patrol, she pulled into Fremantle, where her CO was replaced by Cmdr. Conde Raguet, and she headed back into the fray on 5 January 1945.

She was assigned to operate in a wolfpack with submarines USS Perch (II) and USS Galiban,  guarding the western entrances to Balabac Strait.  Since the losses of USS Robalo and USS Flier in or near Balabac Strait  in August 1944, Navy HQ decided to close it to all Allied traffic, but since the Japanese laid the minefields in the first place, they still used it.  So, submarines were assigned to guard either the western or eastern entrances, both which provided lots of entertainment.

According to “The History of USS Barbel” filed by the Navy in 1956, on 3 February, Barbel radioed Galiban as well as Tuna and Blackfin (who must have been in the area) that she was dodging more aerial patrols that usual.  Three times already that day, planes had buzzed overhead, dropping depth charges which she thus far, evaded.  Cmdr. Raguet said he would communicate more the following night (presumably, the 4^th of February.)

No one heard from her that night.  Or the next.  On the 6^th of February, Tuna sent a message to Barbel, ordering her to surface and rendezvous at a particular place and time on the 7^th.  Barbel never answered and never showed.  This was reported to HQ and they listed Barbel as lost on 16 of February, 1945.

After the war, a record surfaced.  On 4 February, a Japanese pilot, spotting an Allied submarine SW of Palawan in the vicinity of Balabac Strait, dropped his two depth charges on her.  One missed.  The other hit the sub’s bridge, and she “plunged under a cloud of fire and spray.”  No other submarines were in that area or recorded an attack that day.  It’s likely this description was the Barbel’s fate.  Her loss date was therefore listed as 4 February 1945.  Her crew of 81 lie with her.

Following her loss, she was honored with a little sister: USS Barbel (II) SS-580.  The lead ship in the first designs of teardrop shaped hulls, Barbel (II) had an…interesting career.  Reading what little is in the public domain about her reminds me why I so admire the men (and now women) who crew these boats, and why I could never do what they do.  Barbel was decommissioned in 1990 and sunk as a target in 2001, but her triplet sister, Blueback (SS-581), is on display at the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry, if you ever want to see her.

Barbel (I)’s memorial is along the Oregon Trail Veterans Cemetery near Evansville, Wyoming.

To her 81 men, may I say, “Sailor, Rest Your Oar” and thank you, from a grateful citizen.

Photos of USS Barbel’s Memorial

Deck Logs of USS Barbel, including her official history (first three pages)

The Lost crew of USS Barbel

Just a quick note to anyone who is interested in the discovery of USS Flier, the show Dive Detectives: Submarine Graveyard, which documents how the USS  Flier’s wreck was discovered and documented, will show at 10 a.m. on the Smithsonian Channel on Monday, January 16, 2012.  The entire series, including the Submarine Graveyard Episode is available on iTunes.  I loved the show when I first saw it, and I”ve studied it almost frame by frame since then, so look into it if you’re lucky enough to have Smithsonian Channel!

It’s easy for me sometimes, to forget that there was a whole other submarine war taking place during WWII.  After 1942, all American submarines were sent to the Pacific front to fight the Japanese, leaving the British, French, Italian and German submarines to entertain each other.

There were many close calls, fascinating rescues, and hundreds of losses (which I’m only just scratching the surface of).  Discoveries of lost submarines in the Atlantic are frequently announced, including the week: the HMS Olympus has been found.

Olympus was commissioned in 1931 and spent her first ten years in China and Ceylon (modern Sri Lanka).  Redeployed nearer home in 1940, she became part of the blockade runners of Malta

Malta was under assault in 1942.  A British territory before the war, she was a military base, but so close to Italy and parts of the North African theater that she was very strategic, and therefore, under assault.

British soldier Charles Maw remembered being stationed on Malta at first wasn’t so bad:

At this time there were not too many air raids as this seemed to be great as the Italians used high level bombing and most of their bombs fell into the sea. We felt fairly safe. We could get food in the main town, pork chop and chips, it was great. They bred pigs, goats and rabbits that they bred on the island. Unfortunately the German Luftwaffe took over the bombing raids from the Italians. We then knew what bombing was all about. We got bombed day and night, sometimes as many as 7 days on the trot. We had good air raid shelters under the rocks and the bombs couldn’t penetrate into them.

Indeed, the British garrison on Malta was able to disrupt enough German convoys that Albert Kesselring, Hitler’s commander of the Mediterranean, decided to ‘wipe Malta off the map’.   Between the Luftwaffe and the assaults from U-Boats cutting off outside supplies, the Maltese and the troops stationed there were in for a rough 18 months.

Maw remembered how different Malta looked at the height of the blockade.

The Germans had by now got us pinned down and we were now on siege rations. We used to lay on our beds and talk about food and women but that didn’t fill our bellies. We lived on 4oz of bread a day. The bread was made from potato flour that was often sour from being kept. We had no freshwater to we resorted to boiling sea water during the day on wood fires…In Valetta people slept in the old underground railway tunnels which were safe except for the entrances. Lots of civilians were killed by blasts and we were called out to bury them when they were found under the rubble. It was very eerie.

Actually, it got so bad, that King George VI awarded the entire island and her people, the George Cross, the highest civilian award in the British Empire. This was the first time such an award was given to an entire population rather than individuals, and it has since appeared on the flag of Malta.

Part of the supply chain to keep Malta going was submarines who could sneak past the blockade.  Of course, there were submarines in and around Malta anyway, as it sat in the center of the Med. One, HMS P 39 was severely damaged on March 26, 1942, too damaged to do much with.  Most of her crew survived.  Then on 1 April 1942, the HMS Pandora in Valetta Dockyard and HSM P 36 in Silema Harbour were both sunk by Luftwaffe raids.  Each of these three boats had highly experienced crews who were now stranded, and Britain sent HMS Olympus to bring them home so they could serve on new boats.  Dropping off her supplies, the Olympus took on an estimated 43 experienced submariners in addition to her 55-man crew and on 8 May 1942, set out for a quick trip to Gibraltar.

HMS Olympus , in a photo from the Imperial War Museum

Seven miles out to sea, while (thankfully) travelling on the surface, Olympus hit a mine.  Whatever damage she initially took, she apparently sank slowly enough that most of her crew was able to get to the deck.  Below, the electrical equipment began to short out and worse, the seawater was leaking into the batteries, flooding the interior of the submarine with lethal chlorine gas.

On deck, the officers urged everyone to keep their sweaters and gear on, but remove their shoes before diving in the cold water.

“One of these [survivors] was the famous Gordon Selby. A legend in the submarine service for surviving the sinking of several boats during the war. Gordon once told me that his lasting memory of the sinking of Olympus was looking back at the submarine as she settled in the water and there he saw a mass of boots and shoes neatly placed in one long line on the upper deck casing. The footwear was placed there by the survivors of the initial mine explosion before they abandoned the submarine and took to the water. “  –George Malcomson, Archivist, Royal Navy Submarine Museum

Sadly, under wartime blackout, there was little light to lead the survivors to land.  Just the faintest glow at the horizon hinted where Malta, the nearest shore, might be.  No one knows how many men were able to escape Olympus, but by morning, nine to twelve survivors (accounts and records recall various numbers, most often 9 or 11 men) managed to stagger back onshore to an island that must have seemed determined to forever keep them.

Once informed of Olympus’s loss, HQ was highly upset-the boat’s loss was nothing to the loss of many experienced submariners.  Due to the sheer number of passengers aboard, the Olympus’ loss of 89 men became the greatest British submarine disaster of WWII.

And so the story remained until 2008, when a side scan sonar image revealed what might be the Olympus in 115 meters (377 feet) of water.  Technical divers Mark Powell and Stuart Jones of Dive-Tech in the UK together with  Jonathan Thomas of Tec Deep Blue in Malta went onto the wreck and took  photos, but visibility was too poor to be able to confirm identity.  In 2011, a team from Aurora Trust, an American company, relocated the wreck and documented it with ROVs.  These images confirmed what was suspected since 2008, the wreck was the HMS Olympus.

She sits upright, in good condition, the mine damage located mainly beneath her on her keel.  Hopefully, now that her location is known, and considering her deep depth, she will be left in peace.

For more information:

Charles Maw’s memory of the siege of Malta

Article on Olympus’s location, including photo of deck gun of wreck

2008 announcement of possible discovery

Interesting post on Olympus and crew including survivor Gordon Selby

Best quick article about the development and end of the siege of Malta

discovery of the HMS Olympus

Obituary of Gordon Selby, who survived P 39, Olympus, and had a number of close calls in his long and fascinating career