A FEW QUICK SHOTS FROM THE MEMORY OF A SUBMARINE CAPTAIN   Full Coffee Cups   Diesel boats spent a lot of time surfaced, unlike nuclear boats which are designed to operate almost entirely submerged. The Officer of the Deck (OD) stood his watch on the bridge and was in charge of the entire ship. Two decks down, in the Control Room, the Chief of the Watch was in charge of all things below decks. The Chief had large latitude in supervising normal house-keeping tasks. He could authorize anything on his own except a violation of hull integrity, that is, opening a valve which connected directly to sea. An example would be blowing sewage or garbage overboard.   All naval vessels run on gallons of strong coffee. When the OD and his two lookouts were in need, the OD would call down to the Chief on the intercom (7MC circuit), "Control, Bridge. One black and bitter, one black and sweet, and a blond and sweet to the bridge, please."   The Chief would call the galley on the sound-powered phones and place the order. A mess cook would then carry the three steaming cups up four flights of vertical ladders...no mean feat. If only the OD wanted coffee, the Chief would order it from the wardroom rather than the crew's mess. In this case, a steward rather than a mess cook would do the honors. In those days, most of the stewards were Filipinos. Sorry to be politically incorrect, but that was the way it was.   Most of the stewards had Spanish surnames. Read your history to find out why. We had one we'll call Gonzales, not his real name. In a particularly rough sea, he arrived on the bridge with two cups, one for the Skipper and one for the OD. Both were full to the brim. The Skipper asked him how he could climb four 10 foot ladders in a rolling, pitching submarine without spilling a drop (the high sail had elevated the bridge two levels over the old fleet boat configuration). He demonstrated proudly. He took a big drink from each cup to lower the level below the lip, held the coffee in his mouth until he was just below the bridge level, and spit it back into the cups. No spillage. He was so proud! He had little or no education, but he had solved a difficult fluid mechanics problem.   A side note on Filipinos in the Navy. Living conditions in the Philippines were extremely poor. The US Navy needed stewards, and most white sailors were unwilling to serve in what they saw as a demeaning role, waiting on officers. So an agreement was reached whereby Filipinos could serve as stewards while retaining their Philippine citizenship. As non-US citizens, they paid no income tax. After serving twenty years, they were granted automatic US citizenship, retired back to the Philippines, and paid no taxes there because now they were US citizens. There was an annual enlistment quota and a long waiting list. A retired Chief Steward in Manila lived like a king. So much for exploitation.   Blowing the After Battery Head   In the Navy, bathrooms are called heads. Same in the Air Force and Marine Corps. The Army calls them latrines.   A Diesel submarine had three: one each in the Forward and After Torpedo Rooms, and one in the After Battery Compartment. The After Battery also contained a large sleeping area, the mess decks, and the galley.   Commodes were flushed with a small amount of sea water into a holding tank called, somewhat amusingly, Sanitary Tank. When the tank was full the contents were blown overboard with compressed air. Blowing sanitary was a delicate task because if not done just right, the sewage blew back into the boat and all over the sailor doing the blowing. The After Battery Sanitary was normally blown by a mess cook who was already on duty in the galley. The duty cook would call the diving officer on the phone to get permission. If any problem arose, the auxiliaryman-of-the-watch would be dispatched to assist. He was an Engineman or Machinest Mate and had better knowledge of valves and pipes than a mess cook. Needless to say, the auxiliarymen were never amused to be summoned.   One day permission was requested and granted to blow the After Battery Sanitary Tank. Shortly thereafter, trouble was reported and the auxiliaryman dispatched. Grumbling, he headed aft. On arrival, he found shit and toilet paper all over the place. The cursing could be heard two compartments away.   The cook quietly scrapped a two-finger glob of peanut butter from a nearby jar and ambled back to the head. Arriving on scene, he asked the auxiliaryman what the problem was. The answer was immediate and furious. "Your #@*?# mess cook has blown shit all over the place."   The cook reached up to the overhead (ceiling), scraped off a glob of peanut butter which he had kept concealed in his hand, tasted it, and reported, "Yep. That's shit." The auxiliaryman promptly puked.   Plane Crash   There was a serious side to life. We were operating off San Clemente Island, giving ping time (serving as a target) to some destroyers and aircraft. Most of the ASW (anti-submarine warfare) aircraft were P3s, but in this case we were working with some smaller, rather old S2s. They had a crew of four. In the wee hours of the morning, we heard a loud explosion on sonar followed by classic breaking-up sounds. We surfaced immediately and tried to call our airdale buddy on the radio. No luck. They had augured in. The destroyers hadn't realized it yet. We started an immediate search. The destroyers used their big searchlights until they burned them out.   Suddenly we saw a dim strobe light. The kind that are attached to life jackets. There was a life raft! Our swimmer goes over the side. Grabs the life-raft. Two guys in it. One had both legs broken. The force of the impact had torn off both of his high-top lace-up boots. Got both men on deck. The guy with the broken legs was unconscious, but breathing. Our guys lowered him below so our corpsman could work on him. Second guy was terrified of going below. Claustrophobic. We finally got him off the main deck, down the ladder, and into the boat, but he was very uncomfortable. Said submarines were dangerous...and he had just ridden an airplane into the sea.   Next morning, we found only bits and pieces of floating debris, including the left half of the pilot's helmet. It was a sad experience and reminded us all of our vulnerability