Despite hardships submarines draw those in search of unique Navy duty

Since 08-22-03

Sent: Monday, August 18, 2003 7:41 AM

Subject: Despite hardships, submarines draw those in search of unique Navy duty

Thought this article from the Norfolk Virginian-Pilot might interest
you submarine sailors.

YNCS Don Harribine, USN(Ret)
NCPOA


http://home.hamptonroads.com/stories/story.cfm?story=58494&ran=112848


Despite hardships, submarines draw those in search of unique Navy duty

By MATTHEW DOLAN,
The Virginian-Pilot August 18, 2003

GROTON, Conn. -- They don't blow up Japanese destroyers or hunt down Red October anymore. And they still have to spend months-long deployments underwater, locked inside cramped steel cylinders.

So the question must be asked: Why do young men -- and yes, they're still all male -- become submariners?

Part of the answer can be found here in the nation's submarine capital, a seaside town of 40,000 that is home to a shipyard, naval base, training school and museum all devoted to the ``Silent Service.''

Last week, Groton played host to the christening of the first Virginia-class boat, the nation's newest line of attack submarines. While a dozen submarines are home ported in Norfolk, seventeen subs call Groton home.

In interviews with people in the submarine community, a few themes emerged.

Many said being a submariner is unique and mysterious in a Navy dominated by surface sailors. It's an elite calling for the most secret of missions.

``There has never really been a shortage of people interested in joining up,'' said Steve Finnigan, curator at the Submarine Force Museum.

And the boost in their paychecks for the extraordinary lifestyle doesn't hurt, either.

``I'm getting a $100 more a month just to start,'' said Seaman Daniel Villarreal, 29, of Houston, who was a top graduate at last week's graduation from the Basic Enlisted Submarine School.

The school lasts eight weeks, with most men continuing on to speciality schools for months afterward. But to earn the prized dolphin pins, submariners must qualify with time at sea.

Finnigan said Navy recruits from rural backgrounds and those who were mechanically inclined have been attracted to subs, where the crews pride themselves on their ability to do almost any repair job onboard.

``Maybe it doesn't have the same glamour as the Navy's flyboys, but it's pretty close,'' he said. ``So it's always attracted people from different backgrounds.''

Submariners today are becoming a more diverse lot.

Among recruits 10 years ago who attended the Basic Enlisted Submarine School at the naval base here, about 80 percent were white, 8 percent black, 7 percent Hispanic and 4 percent Asian.

In the past year, the percentage of white students dropped to 70 percent, while black recruits increased to 14 percent, and Asian recruits doubled to 8 percent. The percentage of Hispanic students remained about the same.

The minority representation in the submarine forces is still less than the Navy's total enlisted force, which is 42 percent minority.

``The demographics are good here, but you need to look at the senior leadership. That hasn't changed as much,'' said Lt. Nigel Sealy, a department head at the sub school.

When he enlisted in the Navy as a young black man, Sealy said, ``We didn't have a lot of people that looked like me. But you work hard and make a difference. And you succeed. There are equal opportunities.''

At a graduation Friday of the latest enlisted class of submariners, Sealy served as master of ceremonies, giving his students brusque orders while smooth-talking parents and friends of the Navy's newest submariners.

``Your life is on the line every day,'' Sealy told 21 students in a class named for the submarine Grampus, which was lost in World War II.

Then Sealy turned to the families.

``I really appreciate all of your support,'' he told them. ``This is the microwave generation; they want everything done right away. They don't have as much patience as you and I.

``All that said, you brought them up well. They love freedom and unlike a lot of people, they're willing to step up to the plate to defend it. It's a dangerous job.''

The ceremony hammered his point home. Sub veterans talked about their wartime service. Captains and master chief petty officers talked about how these young sailors would need to adjust their lives to the intensity of life aboard a sub.

But the most dramatic reminder of the sacrifices of the undersea community came during the ``tolling of the boat.''

As the names of every lost sub was read aloud, a bell was struck two times. The list for World War II alone was dozens of names long.

Still, after the ceremony, none of the new submariners interviewed said the dangers of living aboard one of the nation's 72 subs would discourage them.

``My friends thought it was like crazy, but I like the stealth,'' said Seaman Apprentice Cedric Lott, 20, of Dallas.

He'll get his chance to find out how much next month when he reports to the submarine Tennessee.

Reach Matthew Dolan at matthew.dolan@pilotonline.com  or 446-2322.