These are some of my personal accounts.

Any operational or technical references are in the public domain.

No information relating to the national security of the United States
is disclosed.

First up was Boot Camp. This was in the lovely, not quite frozen
tundra of Illinois.

I had enlisted in the Philippines (dad was active duty there) and it 
had been a long trip. I stopped off to see a High School friend in L.A. and 
the moonies wanted my money.  We went to West L.A. and hung out, caught a movie, 
"The Wall" (where some, at that time illegal substances were being inhaled) This was a 
bad choice for anyone preparing for a pee-test, then to O'hare where the moonies 
REALLY wanted me to give them some money.

Since I had come in alone I had to figure out how to check-in.
The bus dropped me off at the front gate. 
What to do? Oh good there is a guard at the gate. 
Well in no time at all someone shows up, tells me to 'grab my stuff'
and he goes a running. Hell.
After a short run, I guess less than a mile we end up at the barracks 
for check-ins.
"Why did we have to run?" Unless you are in formation with a company,
all recruits at Great Lakes will RUN, not jog, but run between destinations. 
Oh Boy, this was not the Navy that I had pictured at all.

After a few weeks of this and that, forming up with a company, learning
how to do things the Great Lakes Navy Way, making some friends, and 
discovering what FUBAR ment. Things were not too bad. 

Until the day I decided to buy some cigars:

One day, For some reason, I decided to buy a cigar and hang out with
the smokers...
There was a room set aside just for smoke breaks and it looked like
some good conversation was going on, and I was not going to miss out.
Short story is that someone mentioned that I had turned green about
5 minutes into the smoke break, and I cleared out. I have had one (1)
cigar since then.

On another fine day I had the honor of standing watch over the 'pieces'+
for the first half of a visit to the mess hall. It was only November
but that 'ol arctic air had come in and wouldn't you know it, snow. 
The short sleeves and dungarees just didn't cut it and by the time my
relief arrived I wasn't sure if my ears were still with me. Fortunately
I had the company of about 10 others that were in the same position I was
and looking over and seeing the looks on their faces kept me 'at my post'
guarding 'our' WWI rifles from the wind and snow.

...the swim guys wanted me to take some more tests when
we had our day at the pool, turned that down (UDT test I found out),
the dentist wanted to put me in a 'test study' that would mean 8 weeks
out while they broke my jaw to make my teeth look pretty, turned that down
too...hence my pipeline path continued.

Boot camp turned out okay. Our company won the Cheerio and a bunch of
other stuff, I was the NSL nominee, and we didn't trip over each other
at graduation. These were Not the brightest guys on the planet but from
what I remember we made a good team.  I get this flash back when I see the 
movie "Platoon" when they muster out of boot.  
"Trolinger, you want to be a, a,  SUB-MAR-IN-ER , What the hell! "

After a week off in the big W I found out that I was going to BEE, bee double e,
basic electricity and electronics, at, you guessed! Great Lakes. December
through March, oh boy.
Before that happened though I had my name called, again, but this time while
out in the real world and by someone that I knew.  Barbera Bowman was yelling
for me, half way around the world from where we had known each other at George
Dewey High School.  It was a good to see her and brought me back a bit.  This
is a small planet and don't you forget it.

School was cool, Christmas at the barracks sucked, MTV was just getting
on the air and the roommate loved watching 'Rock the Cazbah' and whatever
what being played And I got to watch the Lake Freeze over.

The civilian instructors were excellent thou and I really learned allot
and liked it. I ended up in some top percentage but it didn't really mater.
It was fun.

So it's March and it must be time to go to Sonar A-school in San Diego by now.
No way. Off to rotten groten for sub-school.

I had been forewarned about 'teradactyl airlines' but didn't believe
it until I experienced it. After arriving at La Guardia I rode a bus for
a few (hours) and showed up at this terminal that looked like it was under
construction.  I guess they were the low bidder. My luggage
was lost...in flight. Enough said.

Submarine (sub-mah-reen) School:
It was cold, we were non-quals, and every one was busting our balls.
The dive trainer was fun. But most memorable was the casualty
(?) trainer. Our class was locked into a tank (with box seating for the
instructors and operators) that was similar to an engine room of a
640 class SSBN, then the water was turned on. Eventually every pipe seam
and valve had water shooting out of it. No big deal, until guys had to start
diving under water to get to the leaking pipes. I don't think that we were
supposed to be able to solve all the problems but we did try. I recall that
the water was turned off before it was over our heads...
I left with the NSL, Navy Submarine League, award for our class.
Still don't know why or how but it is a good organization with some good 
very good causes.

So off to San Diego for the summer. I am pipe-line six year tour ( a six hour 
tour, a six hour tour ) so I automatically get A-school, and if I am a good 
boy C-school. 
Don't know what B-school is/was but submariners must skip it now. 
Did pretty good in A- and C- school, I chose the what would 
put me on fast 'where it is at' attack submarines, as I just knew that 
was where I wanted to be.

Now San Diego is nice all year round, but these class rooms did not
have air conditioning and it Was summer time. I remember one time....never mind.

Anyhow I met a really good person, and a friend, IZZY De Jesus. Izzy
had already been on missions and was back to get his reward, super-tech
school in lovely San Diego. Izzy introduced me to the Commodore 64 games,
weekly haircuts, dry cleaners, and some activities that I will not reveal
until certain statutes of limitations have expired.
We graduated near the top, got the boat/command that we wanted (he had just
come from Bergall) and drove cross country in his Fiat to Norfolk, VA. 
Well the Fiat had a bad alternator somewhere in the desert (I slept through 
most of this). After Izzy coaxed the old girl into what looked like a repair 
shop we got the bad news, no parts here, but they will be on the Greyhound, 
sometime. Oh boy. 
We split the cost, enjoyed the local bar for about 10 minutes, slept in some
shit hotel for what seemed like a minute and got the hell out of dodge. 
Of course it was the wrong diode set in the alternator but at least we made
it as far as my family's place near San Antonio were we could rest and get 
some Real Fiat service.

It was fall again, I remember skidding across the ice outside Atlanta, and Izzy 
informing me that 30 over the speed limit and they don't bother taking you to jail. 
Overall a real good, career guiding experience. Izzy got me through school and to
my first Boat flying high. Thanks Buddy.



Norfolk, VA....ahhhh....seems colder here than at Great Lakes.
I reported on board Bergall and was immediately classified as A NON-QUAL PUKE *.

Capt Miladenao
xo
weps 'chas'
Tom Kuntz Shamokin PA c-school
Chief Laplante
Powell / barracks


Bergall: Well they wanted me to sleep on board because there wasn't room
in the barracks. That was my first indication that something was just not
right.

Oh yea, mess cook duty...that was interesting. A lot of people didn't
like me, hell I didn't know them, didn't know what I was doing wrong
and such. Turns out being a non-qual with a bad attitude was the problem.

I put my nose to the grindstone once I found that out. Until;

Something really bad happened one night in port and we ended up having
to basically re-build the SES. I might as well have just lived on
board because we worked 20 hours a day to get things back in order. 
The end result was good. I got to work with the tech rep most of the
time and learned all those neat tricks that you just don't get in school.

Guess that no one had really cared about the equipment for a couple
years and it was not in good shape even before the incident.
STS1(SS) Pat Davis told the XO that I had been living in Sonar for the
past three weeks, then during field day in the overhead one day the XO
shows up and asks about how I became so computer smart and such. Can't
remember my answer but he was interested and that meant allot.

I was awarded my first Navy Achievement Metal at the next awards
ceremony, proving that standards had hit a low point on Bergall.

Topside: Of course the first thing that I qualified was
topside watch. Probably Watch should say 'was qualified' as it
wasn't my priority. The Elizabeth River is nasty, cold, and only
a few feet away. It was said that several shots were required for
anyone who went 'for a swim' and a rumor was going around that the
local Seal Team liked to practice, on us.

I was starting to wonder why I had not taken the nuke test.

Room : We had the capability to carry these things
called SubRocs. Submarine Rockets. So of course someone had to
sit in the torpedo room and baby-sit. At least it was warm.

Quals:
Non-qual got a NAM. Things didn't get much better. Chief
Laplante was not very happy. Some kind of personality dis-order
or maybe it was his hemorrhoids. I don't know. By the time I
was ready for my board (so I thought) after only 10 months on
board, he had decided to line me up with the brain trust on the boat.

You might know them. The guys that had 3.5 floppys in their pocket and
had a knack for knowing things about the boat that weren't in the docs.
Anyway I had the brain trust for my board and the Chief must have
told them to give me hell and they did.

It Took 'em the entire off-watch to fail me.
I was floored.
The Chief was happy to see me put in my place.

Thanks to allot of people, mostly STS1(SS) Pat Davis, walking me
through things that I had missed and hooking me up with the guys that
really cared about teaching and in general some really good personal
guidance, from guys like Powell Barber I passed with the same board a
few weeks later.**

Probably the best / most painful part of qualifying Submarines is
that the crew made sure that the dolphins would NEVER come off
of my chest.


La Spezia
La Maddalina
Palma de Mallorca

Bergall: 'Chas' was our Weapons Officer, a way cool
dude, and he had just lost his wife to cancer. Anyway
the good stuff now...I remember him stating "those with
the most toys when they die, win."
Well he had every toy and shared them with the rest of the department. 
He took us and our families all out to Lynhaven inlet for a great
day of jet ski and boating. I still have pictures of STS1(SS)
Pat Davis, with his daughters on the boat. It was a great day
and although I cannot remember your full name, thanks Chas.


"Lets blow this popsicle stand!" --unknown


The picture of the guy standing around looking for someone
to shoot is myself, topside during the Panama Canal transit
to the yard. This was probably the best time for me on Bergall.

We stopped in San Diego for an off-load and had time to hit
the local entertainment establishments (The Pump Room). 
Since most of the Sonar gang had spent time in the area
finding the dives was not a problem.

In Vallejo we found this bar with all kinds of submarine type stuff on
the walls. I couldn't remember the name until I saw the Parche site.
It was the Horse&Cow. That was a dive of first class and should require
a clearance to enter.

It took me about 2 days in the 'yard' to realize that I had made a good
decision. Bergall was going to the shipyard. I took the opportunity to
split tour. I got to pick a boat, not just any boat. Rickover.

After some leave back home, a bit of time on the
Tender and at COMSUBLANT waiting for the Boat to get to La Mad three of
us were put on a plane for the Rock. This was a real planes, trains,
and automobiles story;

The Rome airport had just been shot up, and americans were on the most
wanted list for terrorist, according to someone at the State Department.
We were told to grow our hair out and travel in civvies. Yea okay.
Americans stand out in a crowd just about anywhere in the world and
the three of us were no exception.

It was kinda cool going incognito while everyone else was in uniform.

So we go Norfolk NAS to Philly International (MAC terminal I think) and
we are not booked for Naples "why aren't you in uniform!?." It was
late at night and no help was to be had from squadron.

So we had to weasel are way onto the next available, in the morning sometime.

Well we ended up making the flight we were originally scheduled for, how
I don't remember.

Naples was fun. We hung out for two days in a local hotel waiting
for our 'flight' to Sardinia. The bars were interesting, the taxi drivers
were a terror and I remember that you could buy gas from little stands on the side of
the road that were un-attended. This was my second time in Napoli so I showed
the guys around a bit. Pompeii and some bar I can't/won't remember
the name of.




			"Wherever you go, there you are"

							-Buckaroo Banzai


			Nothing is created by a team or an organization. Every new idea
			comes out of a single human mind.
							-- Admiral Hyman G. Rickover








After Bergall arrived at the shipyard I spit-toured to H.G. Rickover,
already half-way through a med-run. I had just finished
one so it was nice to fly out to the Rock and get going again...I think...
I'll get a pic scanned in one of these
Days, for now here
is a nice page that has some SSN-709 pictures.

Rickover: I had figured out from the Bergall that
attitude Is everything.

I was going to at least get off to a good start with these guys.
They were just out of new construction and were rumored to be the
hot boat on the river. I found out why.

I am not going into an operational stuff but lets just say that Rickover
was taking names and kicking some butt. I got the run down during a little
visit to La Madalina with the Sonar Gang:


			"When a person can no longer laugh at himself,
			it is time for others to laugh at him"

								-Thomas Szasz




The Sonar Chief 'Chubby', 'Elmo' , and Pat Bracy are the ones I remember
I think Art might have come along. Chubby says that we have to go
out and find a place to get calzone and 'bigger beer.' I was planning on
a quiet night with the UYK's as they were not feeling well.

Chubby rounds every one up and off we go on the small boat to 'La Mad'
The beers turned out to be Really Big and the calzone was good. On the
way back to the pier Chubby and I got in this wrestling match.
(something about who could kick whomevers ass)
Chubby ended up in the bushes while the local carabaneri
and others looked on. He re-appeared, laughing his ass off and SP
didn't show up. We got on the small boat and headed back. I still
worked on the computers, much to Arts disapproval as I was slightly
inebriated.

I was having my good start. "Chasing commies for mommie" would become
my trademark saying.

The rest of the run was very good. Most everyone got their quals
completed and I re-qualed Sonar Sup for the trip home. We shot the straights
and hauled ass most of the way home. Rickover picked up a MUC for that
run/year. First in the med with TLAM-C/LINK-11 and all that good stuff.

It was too bad that the XO and Chubby didn't get along. Chubby
was booted off the boat just before our SRA. He was the best Sonar Chief and
I hope that he is doing well.

LT Young was our Sonar Officer. He was one of those guys that you
just have to like. He worked his ass off making sure that we were taken
care of and that Sonar Div was #1. I hear that he is now an X.O. on a boat.



Capt Cmdr Cohen
XO Ltcdr Murphy
LT (mustang) Weps
LT Kelso (the admirals kid) Radio/ESM
Sonar: LT Young
Chiefs: 'Chubby', William's
'Two Dogs'
'Mo' Elmore




Rickover: So The Nav hates cigar smoke. He doesn't talk
too much and is a pretty good guy, so of course is opened
to any kind of harassment. On the way in from weekly ops
the Nav has the bridge and someone breaks out...a box of cigars.

(probably a Adm Rickover striker)

So about 6 of us stand at the bear trap and proceed to blow smoke.

Nav comes down from the bridge looking a bit green...he made it all the
way to the head... %

Postscript;

The Nav saved our butts with some quick thinking and positive
action.

Now stand by, this is an Official 'no-shit' story ;
We were in BFE during an un-namable deployment
in a not very well charted area of the world.

I had just been relieved as Sonar Supervisor and was making
a quick round in the control room. STS2(SS) Bracy was on the
Fathometer, and had that look that he got when something just
wasn't right. I looked down at the chart and sure enough the
needle was heading uphill. The Nav (LT Steve Dowell) was the OOD. 
Pat calls out the sounding, Nav kinda walked over to the fath., 
takes a peak ..."no problem" I think he said. There was still plenty
of water, relative to what we were doing.
Well Bracy must have that something something that they look
for when selecting Sonar Technicians because 10 seconds later
the needle bumps up again and he shouts out another sounding.
THis time the Nav didn't even check, he heard the tone in Pat's voice.
"Up 5deg on the fairwater planes, helm full left rudder" (we were
at a full bell I believe). Well I just got out of the way and held
onto the railing by the QM stand. A minute or so later after slowing
down and getting to a more reasonable depth and angle we looked at the
fathometer chart.

We had missed the bottom by exactly one needle tip, we figured less than
twenty feet. If it were not for the Steve Dowell and Pat Bracy, at a minimum,
we would have ended up on the front page of most of the world's newspapers.

I was glad to remain anonymous and intact.

P.S. Would like to hear from anyone that has / wants to make any input to 
     this description.  johnd@trolinger.com




The Crew:

The crew was cool. We didn't really have the nuke/coner thing going
until allot of the plankowners had left. I could go back and hang out in LLMR
working on re-qualifing and be welcomed. Anyway this thing about Buckaroo
Bonzi got started and they were watching it like every night. I guess it
was the cult film for the run. I never really got it. What was cool is how
the guys in the crews mess would break out in a song. I remember 'Happy Trails to
You' and 'Rawhide' being popular. It was nice to be accepted into that
crew.


Holly Lock Scotland;

The British base at Faselane was nice but the British Submariners were
completely out of control. Sonar was invited over to the HMS Conqueror, so a
few of us headed over one afternoon to check things out. Rumor was that they
had a bar on board.

The rumor was true. After a few 'pints' in the crews mess we get
the tour of the boat 'this is the tube that we fired to sink the Belgrano' and ended up
in Sonar.

Of course they wanted to have, how do you say, an exchange of information
now that they had us on board and feeling good. We learned some neat
things then headed back to the crews mess. Last thing I remember about the boat
was the floor in the head. Somehow I made it back to my rack without falling
off the pier. The next day I was told that we had a real good time with the
brits.

A few of us adventured a taxi ride out to town to do some Christmas shopping
and check out a bar or two. This time we stayed civil as I recall.
On the way back, just outside of the gate, looked like the parking lot
to Woodstock.
Painted up VWs, anti-this and anti-that signs. Wow that was a time
warp and I didn't even remember the 60's but there they were.

So It was mission accomplished, presents in hand and feeling real good.

Oh yea, I managed to swap dolphins with one of the Sonar Techs from the
Conqueror. Brit dolphins are way cool. Still got'em too.

RICKOVER was awarded a Navy Unit Commendation, a Meritorious Unit Commendation, 
the SIXTHFLT "Hook'em" Award for ASW excellence, CINCLANTFLT Golden Anchor Award
for retention excellence, the COMSUBRON 8 Battle Efficiency "E" Award, and was 
designated the best Atlantic Fleet Attack Submarine for the BATTENBURG CUP. 


Now it wasn't all happy happy. I had my problems. But
with the 1980's crew of the Rickover just about everything came out all right.


			I'm so short I can sit on a dime and my feet won't touch the deck.

							--unknown

I don't know exactly when I officially became 'short' but when that happened
myself and 'Scotty' had a good time of it. 

Scotty and I made a full time job of making 
sure that everyone on the boat knew that we
were short, getting out, and they should just
leave us Alone in our bliss of shorthood.

A certain COB did not like this attitude of mine,
and was a correct judgment now that I look back
(he has been around, and remains around).
I came topside, just after tying up to the pier,
without my cap (hat) and he gave me hell.  I said
something disrepectfull and he kicked my butt back
below decks.  That gave me some perspective on what
it means to be on the 'outside.'  

When sitting with the (new) Captain of Rickover just
before my EAOS I came a bit closer to saying yes when
asked to sign the papers.  



If I had it to do again I would.

Military service either in seventeen hundred or
two thousand and a hundred in America our the same.

I will tell my son to do it.

And every True American Will.

This gives us the right to proudly say that we
have served our country and are Veterans.







-----

Other Things and End Notes

-----



			"Your job is to push the sonar sphere and
                   pull the towed array. Get hot"

						--overheard in the crews mess on Bergall





Diving the Dome:
The sonar dome is a 20+ foot diameter sphere at the front of the boat.
This is the working end of the sonar system.
Without too much detail lets say that there is some electronic equipment
inside and with a 1000+ of anything something is going to break once in a while.
Hence:
There are two types of dome diving:
 1. From the inside
 2. From the outside

1: While underway is probably
the most fun. The dome has >1000 hull penetrations
in it where the transducers pass thru to allow the cables.

It takes a special kind of submariner that will dive the dome underway.

Most 688's had this dolly that could be used to run back and forth but
we had removed it because it was hitting cables.

On the 667 it was a real short trip from the hatch to the floor in the
dome so no big deal. Plenty of room to work and stand.
Basically you crawl through someone's rack, taking out the access door,
and open up a hatch. Then, after sliding into the tunnel it gets shut, but
not dogged, behind you.

I dove the dome underway twice, to fix 'screamers.' It is an interesting
feeling, something that the guys on those deep submergence vehicles might feel.
Alone.

2: Once in a while the face of the transducers have to be cleaned. 
   This is a Sonar Div event that usually takes two days. One to
   pump out the dome,the other to clean ( with greenies, each of the
   1k plus transducers).

   Access was from topside and you were inside the dome but standing
   on rungs on the sphere itself. Hoses buckets of soapy water and
   greenies were used.  Both times that I was in there it was a lot
   of fun. Sliding down to the bottom, mostly after being knocked off
   the rungs by the fire hose, telling sea stories, and getting the
   'rider' to give us that tech assist that we just couldn't do without.
   ( dunking him at the bottom of the dome )



footnotes

*   not qualified in submarines.

**  After reading some of the stories here on the 'net about how qualification
    was handled I now feel that I was treated about the same. No hard
    feelings to Chief Simons, DS1, and the others that were on my board. Actually
    that is what I needed to snap me out of the 'me is great I am a tech'
    state of mind. 
    Chief LaPlante can still kiss my ass thou.

*** Who ripped it off from Rod Martini, who probably got it from a xeroxed copy
    of a copy on his last boat.
    I remember seeing a copy (4th generation at least) while in Sonar School.

**** Rickover ended up with a 'boatload' of awards.
     The one that I most appreciated was the Hook'em.

+    M-1 Rifles

++   It (688) was designed to protect and escort the fleet, with most everything
     else a second thought. But, since it was so big (long) there was lots of room to
     make up for that mistake.

     Searching the web I found out that de-commissionings are being conducted
     based on funding for a new core. If that is true then someone in congress
     thinks well of the 637's as 688's are already going out.
     (last Sturgeon Class Decom was in 2000)

%    It was ironic to find a cigar.com site when I was doing a search for the
     HGR on the www.


	Adm Rickover never did visit the boat. Rumor was that he wanted an
	aircraft carrier named after him. His wife, Mrs. Eleanor B. Rickover,
	did make a visit shortly after the Admirals death in 1986.




	Although there have been some stories in the news media and books
	written about those accounts this doesn't m