True Story: I do not remember if I have ever told this story on FR:
Year: 1965
A submarine conducting ‘war games’ far off of the coast of Norfolk, Virginia.
Our job was to ‘penetrate’ the ‘enemy’ and get to the coast.
While transiting from East to West there was a P2V anti-submarine aircraft sighted. We immediately went into emergency dive.
While diving, the stern planes jammed in full dive. Our greatest down angle was @ 45 degrees. Almost a total disaster.
There was a man onboard who I shall name, “Junior.” Junior was on the ‘sticks’ in the Maneuvering room. Junior was always in a bad mood, never spoke much and when he did it was always with some negative comment about someone or something. No one liked him for his constant negativity, bad humor, etc. In two years of serving aboard with him I had never seen him smile or laugh. But on this day, he, without orders or directions from anyone, threw the ‘sticks’ to emergency back full which threw a couple of fireballs all over the Maneuvering room. However, his action made the boat stop the dreaded down angle and we popped right back up on the surface. After the near disaster had calmed everyone’s nerves I went back to the Maneuvering room, walked right up to Junior and said to him, “Junior, I want to personally thank you for saving the boat.” I had hoped that my sincere words would soften him and say something like, “That’s OK, man.” Not junior. He stayed in his normal mode and said, “Well, I didn’t want to ( expletive deleted ) die, man.
Junior, wherever you are, I haven’t and will never forget you, brother and still love you no matter your sour temperament! ;-)
Life aboard a sub in the 60s must have been hard.