The Early American Guided Missile Submarines

Since 08-03-04

From the Submarine Research Center 

Fleet ballistic missile submarines glide in and out of Bangor and Kings Bay carrying Trident II missiles. We seldom look back to those years of missile development from V 1 s, to Loons, to Regulus Is, Regulus Its and finally to Polaris, the first vertically launched missile from a submerged submarine. What's more, we forget that while Polaris research and development took place our submarines had to sustain special operations in the worst climatic conditions carry­ing missiles that seem like relics from today's perspective.

During the late 40s, the Navy competed with our land and air forces for priority in getting its hands on the V-1 s captured at the end of the World War II. The V 1 s were finally used up and replaced with an American version, the Loon. Cusk (SS-348) and Carbonero (SS-337) were equipped with launchers on the after decks. For the most part, launches were successful, but on one occasion the Loon's Jato bottle exploded on take off sending the missile into the after tor­pedo room hatch. An enormous fire engulfed the after section of the superstructure, but since the ship was rigged for dive, the captain simply sub-merged and extinguished the fire.

Research and development pushed ahead as Loon taught submariners how to modify boats and living conditions to accommodate the mis­sile age. As Regulus came off the drawing board, down the production line and onto submarines, more accommodation was needed. The Tunny (SS-282) and Barbero (SS-317) had been decom­missioned and sat sadly awaiting their fates at the junk yard. Regulus saved them. They were recommissioned, sent to the yard and converted to SSGs.

Barbero had been a cargo conversion shortly after the war so that officer quarters were in the after battery and the crew's berthing was forward of control. Both had snorkels and Tunny had a fairwater added to its conning tower shears with a large hanger astern of the sail to house two Regulus missiles. Barbero retained the shears but had added to it a snorkel. Below decks special equipment was needed for missile op­erations.

The Regulus had an approximate range of 500 miles, but needed guidance on the second half of its journey to target. After the end of the Loon program, Cusk and Carbonero were con­verted to tracking submarines. Thus the first team of missile submarines was made up of these four boats, deploying a total of four nuclear war-heads against the Soviets. These boats stood a lonely sentry in the waters of western Bering Sea as Growler and Grayback rushed to join them.

The Navy wedded a greatly modified Tang class hull type to the specialized needs of the next generation of Regulus missiles, the Regu­lus IL This was a swept-back, hot-rod version of the air breathing Regulus I. The bow of the two boats thus modified was lifted to accom­modate four Regulus Its each. They were the Growler (SSG-577) and the Grayback, (SSG-574). Grayback was commissioned March 1958

and Growler, August 1958. These were the first dedicated missile boats. They trained until 1959 when they and their colleagues, Tunny and Barbero commenced a routine of continuous de­ployment in the northern Pacific.

The nuclear submarine Halibut (SSGN-587) was commissioned in January 1960. Unlike the Growler and Grayback, it carried four Regulus I or Its in any combination. Its fore-deck was flush but raised. Her missile system was a completely automated group of hydraulically powered ma­chinery, controlled from a central control station. The boat began regular patrols in April of 1961 making the fifth boat to carry the Regulus threat to the Soviets.

Tunny and Barbero together carried four mis­siles as did Grayback, Growler, and Halibut each. This meant that Russia would have to deal with four weapons on station at all times. Division Eleven of Squadron One based in Hawaii made up the initial organization. GMU-10 was its shore based guided missile facility. Not to be forgot-ten were Cusk and Carbonero, the guidance boats.

A total of about nine patrols were made by each of the division's elements during the late 50s and early 60s. The typical run lasted for about four months; one month in transit northwest from Pearl, sixty days on station and another month getting back home. Stop off points were Mid-way and/or Adak, both for refueling and food.

The boats left in top shape with band playing, wives waving and all equipment operational. On return the boats were rusted hulks and the crews were exhausted. The incredible weather battered the boats. It was not uncommon for a boat to return to Pearl with only a partial superstructure. Sails were punched in, deck hatches torn off, planes ripped off, and periscopes bent or shat­tered by ice.

Growler and Grayback with their high speed diesels had constant problems with propulsion as did their Tang class counterparts. Tunny and Barbero hulls had seen service during World War II and these boats probably suffered the most. Snorkeling became a super-human effort in the ice fields and heavy seas battering the hangars on the afterdeck. And snorkeling was the name of the game in the worst weather imaginable.

Running submerged by day and snorkeling by night became the waiting routine for those early boats. Snorkeling took its toll on equip­ment and men. "Commence snorkeling" was so often followed by the slam of the head valve, and the altimeter spinning as engines sucked air from the boat.

At high altitude cut off, about eight thousand feet, the mast flooded, the boat got 2000 pounds heavy and the diving officer fought to regain depth control. This scenario played again and again during each agonizing watch. Men in their bunks slept fitfully.

Passageways were stacked with food cartons and rations were packed into every crevice of the boat. Only in maneuvering and control were the decks as the designers had meant them to be. The men ate their way through the food, the passages became clear but the crews ate well. Living conditions were worst in the early boats. Growler and Grayback fared better and Halibut with its nuclear plant didn't have to worry about snorkel effect.

Tunny developed a small leak in the pump room. It was nothing of great consequence, re­quiring pumping to sea about once a day. When Tunny went into dry dock after one patrol one could stand in the control room and see the dry dock below through the hatch grate and through a seven-inch crack in the pressure hull close to the keel. At depth the hull would compress and the crack would be sealed by sea pressure. The boat was simply worn out.

Men who came back from patrol came back pale and filthy. Many long days in the Hawaiian sun was in order, but the grinding schedule re­quired the boat to immediately begin repairs to be able to go out again. Keeping on schedule was the Regulus boats' constant goal. So that was the routine, four months of the cruelest submarining imaginable and time in port during which the crew worked frantically to get the boat back in shape.

An article appeared in Navy Times, dated March 14, 1962. The following is a excerpt from that article: "Who are the hardest working men in the Navy? Among the strongest contenders for this dubious honor are the officers and en-listed men who man the Navy's five Regulus-firing submarines." "Regulus you ask? That pro gram was halted in December, 1958." But right this minute there are a couple of U.S. subma­rines in Far Eastern waters with nuclear-tipped Regs ready to fire at carefully selected targets in Red China and Soviet Siberia.

"Deployment for these subs means six or seven months in the Far East—with minimum liberty in the coveted port cities of the Orient..." Regulus subs spend 47 percent of their time de­ployed and an additional 25 percent at sea in local operations and training. "Not many ships can top this."

Of all the submarine duty during the cold war in both diesels and nuclear, it is difficult to find any stretch of duty so demanding and so unre­mitting as the early missile boats. The nuclear boats had the blue and gold crews, but the early missile boats had the black and blue crews. The rest of the cold war submariners having contrib­uted to the nation's defense can think of the dif­ficult conditions of special operations and say, "We didn't have it so bad."