What were some examples of the worst attacks on U. S. boats?

The following are just four examples of the most effective attacks by the enemy, where there were survivors who could tell us about the attacks. These boats are the USS Puffer (SS-268), the USS Salmon (SS-182), the USS Sculpin (SS-191) and the USS Halibut (SS-232) and their stories follow. We are also including some information about the strongest attack on the USS Pampanito (SS-383) which was on her first war patrol.

We can only begin to imagine what some of the boats, those lost with all hands, went through.

The USS Puffer (SS-268), a Manitowoc built, Gato class boat on her first patrol in late 1943, was held down longer than any other boat during the war. It began with an attack on a tanker. The captain hit the tanker with two torpedoes, but it wouldn’t sink. While the Puffer’s captain maneuvered for another shot, the enemy escort, identified by the captain as a Chidori-type destroyer but more likely actually a sub chaser, attacked and did some minor damage in multiple areas. However, some gaskets may have been damaged, allowing water to leak into the main induction piping and the boat. The captain then went to 400 feet and expected to wait out the escort. But it didn’t happen as expected. The sub-chaser captain was skilled and determined, and he had excellent sonar operators. Each time the Puffer maneuvered, the sub-chaser picked her up. About every hour the sub-chaser dropped a few more depth charges.

The crew of the Puffer later suspected that they were leaving a trail of bubbles or oil. That may well have been true since they later found the main induction piping flooded, which added about 12 tons of extra weight to the boat. Naturally, that made depth control that much harder.

Puffer went down to 500 feet. The captain had ordered the air conditioning secured to save battery power and the temperature in the boat reached 125 degrees. The hours dragged on. The men faded from stress and heat. The conditions on the boat continued to get worse. The heat sucked the energy out of the men. It dehydrated them and made them nauseous. Some crew members would drink water only to vomit it back up again. The decreasing level of oxygen in the air left the men more likely to be confused, angry and anxious. It certainly left them fatigued. The prolonged exposure to adrenalin left the men euphoric at first and then with negative attitudes. Those who had something to do fared better.

Eventually the sub-chaser ran out of depth charges with his (approximately) hourly attacks. However, the Japanese skipper still tracked the Puffer hoping to force it to the surface. The crew of the Puffer was very aware of the enemy above them and the skill of their hunters. The enemy’s propellor noises were easily heard through the hull. After a while, a second and perhaps a third sub-chaser joined in. Depth charges were again being dropped.

After 18 to 20 hours, the discipline on the boat began to break down. The official submarine historian reported that “The hurriers and worriers had all crapped out, leaving the plodders to bring home the ship.” The historian further relates:

Both officers and men were “mad at everything and anything. They were particularly mad at themselves for allowing themselves to be caught in such a situation. They cursed themselves for being such fools as to serve in submarines. They cursed the enemy for their persistence. They spent much time daydreaming about what they would do to the sub-chaser above them – discussing such fantastic schemes and ideas as discharging acid around the ship [above] to eat holes in the hull.”

The captain of the Puffer had been broadcasting a “play-by-play” over the PA system (the 1 MC.)That just angered some of the crew who believed it just made too much noise. Eventually, the play-by-play information was passed over sound-powered phones, which would be much quieter. That later became standard procedure.

By now, many of the men had sunk into a stupor and watch stations were manned by volunteers. Many of the others were past caring. The captain did an informal poll of the boat as to whether the crew would prefer to surface and fight. In spite of their situation, most men said they preferred to wait it out.

Puffer remained at 500 feet all that night and the next day as conditions worsened. After dark on the second day, the captain felt he had no choice – surface or suffocate. The last of the emergency oxygen had been released into the boat. The CO2 absorbent had all been used and the battery was nearly completely discharged. He took the boat up to 250 feet and then blew ballast and went directly to the surface, without stopping at periscope depth for the normal look around. One sub-chaser appeared on radar but Puffer was able to escape by presenting a small profile and using a darkened land mass for cover. Puffer had been submerged for almost 38 hours. The boat returned to Fremantle, submerging by day to continue making repairs.

It turns out that Puffer was pushed about 12 miles to the northeast by currents during her ordeal. It appeared that the sub-chasers had remained closer to the area of the initial attack.

As the investigation proceeded, it was suggested that the captain, officers and crew should all be reassigned to other boats. The thinking was that it would be very difficult for any new crew members to be accepted by those who underwent the ordeal. “Puffer’s ordeal welded her men together in a fraternal, almost mystic bond, and no newcomer was able to penetrate the inner circle.”

The initial story was that about 50% of the crew were reassigned, but it turned out to be less than that. The captain was reassigned along with one other officer and about 30% of the crew. The new captain had to do a lot of training as a result. He wrote: “And it was not only ‘training’ but ‘retraining’ since I felt it necessary to change attack procedures and various other things for psychological reasons.”

Puffer went on to make eight more war patrols. Wartime credit was for sinking 14 ships plus one shared for a total of 102,800 tons. JANAC reduced that to 8 ships plus one shared credit for 38,707 tons. Other ships were damaged. Smaller vessels, such as barges, luggers and sea trucks, likely were sunk but were too small to be credited.

Her captain during that first war patrol was reassigned as assistant for submarine operations on the staff of Commander Submarines, 7^th Fleet. There, he earned a commendation for being largely responsible for the successful interception of two enemy task forces.

There was no indication whether any of the crew asked to non-vol from submarine service.

Sources:

“Silent Victory” by Clay Blair Jr., pages 499 to 501

“The USS Puffer in World War II” by Craig R. McDonald, pages 61 to 80

“Sink ‘Em All” by V.Adm. Charles A. Lockwood, pages 121 to 122

“United States Submarine Operations in World War II” by Theodore Roscoe, pages 274 to 278

The USS Salmon (SS-182), the lead boat in a class of six, was built by Electric Boat Company. She was commissioned in March of 1938. As one of the “fleet boats” built between the wars, she was slightly shorter than the boats built during the war, such as the Pampanito. Another important difference was that she was a 250-foot boat; she was only tested to a depth of 250 feet.

In October of 1944, while on her 11^th war patrol, Salmon was part of a wolfpack led by the captain of the USS Silversides (SS-236). The USS Trigger (SS-237), also in that wolfpack, had found a large tanker with four escorts and attacked. One torpedo broached and was spotted. The tanker turned away and the torpedoes missed. The next salvo by Trigger blew the stern off the tanker. The tanker was dead in the water but still afloat and Trigger had to go deep. Upon surfacing, she notified the rest of the pack about the tanker.

Salmon was the next boat to attack that night. The tanker was not moving but was still guarded by four alert escorts. Salmon fired four torpedoes with two hitting the target. Salmon went to 300 feet. The escorts administered a “severe depth-charging.” That included four patterns nearby, with a total of about 30 depth charges.

Salmon was badly damaged, with a score of leaks, and driven down to about 500 feet – below the scale of the depth gauges.

1. The main induction piping was flattened and flooded. This added almost seven tons to the weight of the boat even though the piping had flattened.
2. The steering gear was out of commission.
3. The engine exhausts were jammed.
4. Stern planes were jammed in the dive position.
5. The after torpedo room hatch was blown open, but the boat was saved by the fact that a bottom plate had been bolted to the hatch trunk. Other hatch trunks flooded as well.
6. The vent for fuel ballast tank #7 ruptured and 7,000 gallons of diesel fuel were replaced by heavier sea water.
7. There were serious leaks in the conning tower.
8. Water levels began to approach the main motors.
9. Numerous other pressure gauges, meters and instruments were damaged by shock.
10. The main gyrocompass panel short-circuited.
11. The flooding from pressure fittings had not been controlled and exceeded the ability to pump water out.
12. Salmon had difficulty maintaining depth and at one point went to a reported 578 feet.

The captain decided that his only hope was to surface and fight it out, which was usually futile. When he surfaced the boat, he found that the nearest escort was 7,000 yards (3.5 nautical miles) away.

For some reason, the escort did not attack right away, perhaps not seeing the submarine. That gave Salmon more time to patch some leaks, correct a 15-degree list and open the engine exhausts. The engines came to life. Finally, the escort charged, probably to ram Salmon. However, Salmon also charged, thinking that offense was the best defense. The submarine passed the enemy escort within 50 yards while firing every gun available. That included “two coke bottles which an excited seaman hove at her”. The charge apparently killed everyone topside on the escort, which stopped dead in the water, on fire. Salmon also fended off a charge from a second escort.

She then hid in a rain squall and radioed for help. Six other boats responded. The boats sent spurious radio messages to make it sound like more ships were coming. Salmon was then able to make enough repairs to submerge again to await the arrival of assistance.

While some of the boats were gathering, USS Sterlet (SS-392) took the time to finally sink the tanker, for which Trigger, Salmon and Sterlet all shared the credit, one-third each. Sterlet escorted Salmon back to Saipan. When the engineers inspected the boat, they decided that the damage was so extensive that it wasn’t practical to repair the boat for combat. Salmon was sent to Portsmouth to be patched up. She could then serve as a training boat, although one source indicated that Salmon was just scrapped. The entire crew was transferred to the USS Stickleback (SS-415), which was being built in Mare Island.

Sources:

“Silent Victory” by Clay Blair Jr., pages 764 to 765

Naval History and Heritage Command web site – http://WWW.history.navy.mil" for the WWW.history of the Salmon, SS-182

“Sink ‘Em All” by V.Adm. Charles A. Lockwood, pages 209-210

“The Fleet Submarine in the U. S. Navy” by CDR John S. Alden, USN, Appendix 6.

The USS Sculpin (SS-191) was a Sargo class “fleet boat” completed at Portsmouth Naval Shipyard in 1939, along with her sister ship the USS Squalus (SS-192). Both boats had been operating off the New Hampshire coast in 1939 when the Squalus sank. The main induction valve on Squalus had been left open or, more likely, came open. When the Squalus was noted as overdue, the search for her began. Sculpin was the vessel that located her sister ship the Squalus and the rescue effort began. Sculpin was able to communicate with Squalus to help keep spirits up. The submarine rescue ship USS Falcon (ASR-2) was rushed to the scene. Using a diving bell, the 33 survivors of the initial flooding were rescued. However, 26 others perished in the sinking.

Squalus was raised in 1940 and cleaned up. She was recommissioned as the USS Sailfish (SS-192) and served through the war. However, the new name didn’t fool any of the sailors. They knew her as the “Squalusfish.” 

In a series of events tinged with irony, Sculpin was lost with the majority of her crew in November of 1943. She had found a convoy and prepared to attack. However, Sculpin’s periscope was spotted and the convoy turned to ram the boat. Sculpin went deep to avoid the attack. After the convoy had passed, the captain returned to the surface, intending to do an “end around” and attempt an attack. However, he was surprised to find the Japanese destroyer IJN Yamagumo waiting for them. Sculpin dove again quickly and the destroyer attacked.

Sculpin was damaged, went deep again and remained there for several hours. As the boat was coming toward the surface again, the depth gauge stuck at 125 feet. Not realizing what was happening, the diving officer kept pumping water overboard. As a result, the boat broached the surface. The Yamagumo was still waiting for Sculpin and attacked. Sculpin headed back down. This time, the damage from 18 depth charges was severe. The leaks were serious. The bow and stern planes and the steering gear were out of commission.

The captain decided that surfacing to fight it out with the deck gun was his only choice. As was usually the case in such a gun dual, the submarine did not fare well. One of the first rounds from the destroyer hit Sculpin’s bridge, killing the captain, the executive officer and the gunnery officer. The next senior officer remaining decided to scuttle the boat and passed the word to “abandon ship.” The crew donned life jackets and the chief of the watch started to open the vents.

The division commander, Captain John Cromwell, was aboard Sculpin for the possibility of arranging a wolfpack. Captain Cromwell was concerned about the information he knew regarding future operations and about Ultra, the fact that we were able to break most Japanese naval codes. He feared that he might not be able to keep these secrets when tortured and decided he should go down with the Sculpin. The young diving officer, probably feeling responsible for the disaster, decided he too would stay with the boat along with 10 others. Captain Cromwell was recommended for the Medal of Honor after the war. It was awarded to his widow.

The Japanese rescued three officers and 39 men. However, one man was injured and the Japanese simply threw him over the side. After interrogation at Truk, the survivors were divided into two groups and put aboard the Japanese escort carriers IJN Chuyo and IJN Unyo. Those carriers sailed with the large carrier IJN Zuiho. Both USS Skate (SS-305) and USS Gunnel (SS-253) attempted attacks on Zuiho but were thwarted.

In a great storm, the (now) Sailfish found the carriers. The Japanese commander had rescinded the submarine warning and stopped zigzagging due to the storm and high seas. In three separate attacks, Sailfish sank the Chuyo.All but one of that group of 21 Sculpin survivors were lost with the Chuyo. However, at this point, no one from the Sculpin sinking had been present when she had located the Squalus back in 1939.

Sources:

“Silent Victory” by Clay Blair Jr., pages 524 to 529

“United States Submarine Operations in World War II” by Theodore Roscoe, pages 288

The USS Halibut (SS-232) was a Gato class boat completed by the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard in 1942. In November of 1944, she was on her 10th war patrol operating as part of a wolfpack in the area of the Formosa (now Taiwan) Strait. Halibut had found a small convoy with three escorts. The captain fired four torpedoes at the largest ship from 3,100 yards. This was much farther away than usual, but as close as they could get. Halibut thought they had two hits but could not confirm them.

Shortly after that Skeeter, the canine mascot on board, started to growl and the sonar operator also picked up a strange noise. It was later believed to be a low-flying airplane with a magnetic anomaly detector. This aircraft dropped a depth bomb that rocked the Halibut. It was also likely that the aircraft also dropped a marker of some sort.

Shortly after the aircraft attack, two escorts took turns working together to drop series of depth charges in “a short, very severe depth-charging.” The explosions happened in such rapid succession that the total count was lost.

The damage to Halibut was severe and nearly fatal. It included:

1. The Conning Tower was dished in by one sequence of depth-charges that also pushed the boat deep.
2. Various tanks and the deck were “rippled.”
3. Other charges pushed the Halibut deep, beyond her test depth.
4. The torpedo skids in the forward room jumped up about a foot, damaging the torpedoes.
5. The deck plates in the forward room also jumped, shearing the bolts holding them in place. The men in the space were dumped into the bilges.
6. Sea valves spun open and the escape trunk leaked.
7. “Meanwhile the line to the #1 air bank in the forward battery well carried away. The rush of high-pressure air, and the combined odors of hair tonic, shaving lotion, glypton [sic] and food caused the personnel in the compartment to believe it was flooding and chlorine gas was escaping; hence they abandoned and secured the compartment. #1 bank bled down, creating a 50# pressure in the compartment. This prevented opening the after door or the flappers.” (From the captain’s report.) After carefully determining that there was no chlorine gas, the overpressure had to be vented into the Forward Torpedo and Control Rooms, a loud and slow process. Even Skeeter, the mascot, couldn’t tell if the Japanese were still searching from above.
8. Motors for the sound heads (sonar) failed, requiring that the heads be turned manually.
9. The breech of the 4-inch deck gun was pierced by shrapnel. The gun was wrecked.
10. The main induction valves, meant to bring in air on the surface, had been damaged and were letting in seawater.
11. The gyrocompasses no longer worked.
12. The radio was out of commission. Halibut could only communicate with other boats using the SJ radar and Morse Code.
13. The control room clock was frozen at 13:46:24.
14. One of the periscopes “had all its insides torn loose.”
15. Compartments were littered with hydraulic fluid, cork insulation and glass.
16. The were endless leaks from pipes and valves.

The Japanese then left the Halibut. “For some reason the Jap[anese] shoved off. A little persistence would have paid off. The beating the ship took and survived brings our admiration and respect to the men who designed her, the people who built the Halibut and those who recently overhauled her at Bethlehem Steel Company.” (Captain’s report.)

“First aid” repairs were completed at Saipan and Pearl Harbor. Halibut was then sent to the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard for final assessment. The detailed list of damage still covered three typewritten pages. It was determined that the damage was too extensive to justify the needed repairs. Halibut was “relieved from active service.” Plans to convert Halibut to a school (training) boat were cancelled and she was sold for scrap.

After the war, Skeeter was adopted by one of the ship’s cooks.

Sources:

“Silent Victory, The U.S. Submarine War Against Japan” by Clay Blair Jr., pages 771 to 772

“The Last Cruise of the Halibut” by CDR Graham C. Scarbro, USN in “Naval History Magazine” of April 2021.

“United States Submarine Operations in World War II” by Theodore Roscoe, pages 424 to 425.

“Sink ‘Em All” by VADM Charles Lockwood, pages 249 to 250.

The USS Pampanito (SS-383) was a Balao class boat built at the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard in 1943. She started her first war patrol on March 15, 1944, one year to the day after her construction was started. Her first assignment was as part of a group of ten submarines providing lifeguard duty for our aircraft. The planes were attacking Japanese bases at Yap and the Palau islands in the Carolines. Pampanito’s services as a lifeguard were not required. She was then reassigned to an area south of Guam.

While in that new area, Pampanito attacked a convoy and believed she had two hits on a large ship. The Japanese escorts counter-attacked. Among the resulting damage, the most significant was probably a crack in the main induction piping. That resulted in a loud squealing noise that was disturbing in itself. But it also meant that the Japanese could hear Pampanito on their sonar. When the main induction piping finally filled, the boat went quiet. Unfortunately, she also went deep since the piping held about 15 tons of water.

Pampanito went down below 600 feet (the designed depth for the boat) and could not pump water out of the boat since it would make too much noise. They couldn’t speed up, for easier depth maintenance, because that too would make excess noise. They kept a large up angle on the boat in order to maintain depth at low speed. This worked. Eventually, Pampanito was able to get away and drain the piping.

There was still the need to fix the piping so they could submerge safely in the future. If they couldn’t fix it, they would have to end the patrol. Crew members looked over the main induction piping to find the leak. (This piping was below the deck but above the pressure hull.) However, they couldn’t find the problem. The best solution they could come up with was to give a wrench and a flashlight to the smallest sailor on the boat. They then put that man into the air induction pipe, closed it up behind him, and submerged. His job then was to crawl through the pipe until he found the leak and bang on the pipe with his wrench. Once it was located, the crew was able to repair the pipe well enough to remain on patrol.

Source:

“USS Pampanito, Killer-Angel” by Gregory Michno, Chapter 3.