THE SAGA OF BOB ROSE AND SARGO'S WELCOME TO AUSTRALIA

Since 06-23-05

http://www.subvetpaul.com/SAGA_8_82.htm

By Doug Rhymes

Published in POLARIS August 1982

Editors Note: The gutsy action of Bob Rose was not brought to the attention of officer shipmates until 40 years later. Capt. C. Douglas Rhymes, USN (Ret.) has thoroughly researched and verified all the SARGO shipmate actions described in this narrative. A copy of this narrative is a back-up document to an official joint letter from Skipper Jacobs, Johnny Lajaunie, and Douglas Rhymes to the Chief of Naval Operations recommending that SARGO shipmate Bob Rose be awarded the Legion of Merit Medal for courageous action above and beyond the call of duty. (Capt. Rhymes served as torpedo officer in SARGO, Exec. in SAURY, and was C.O. of S-38 and CHUB during World War II).

On 4 March 1942 USS SARGO (SS 188) was cruising flat-out off the coast of West Australia. We were at 80 percent power and 90 percent speed on four engines -- carrying a battery float on the Dinky. We were blown up high and dry, including at least one fuel ballast tank. We had 31 evacuee passengers aboard. We were about one day out of Fremantle, West Australia. We were looking forward to Rest and Recreation (R & R).

The Bridge lookouts were Gunner's Mate Frank Kay, Torpedoman Jim Haywood, and Torpedoman Frank Perry; the Quartermaster was Signalman Henry Bennett; the Officer-of-the-Deck / Conning Officer was Lt. Doug Rhymes. In the Control Room Electrician's Mate Mac McHenry was an the Hydraulic Manifold, Motor Machinist's Mate George Corbin was on the Air Manifold, and Lt. Johnny Lajaunie was Diving Officer.

Suddenly Frank Kay spotted and reported a plane dropping out of the cloud cover, and coached Rhymes onto the bearing. We all recognized the plane as a Lockheed-Hudson bomber, camouflaged in a mottle of brown, green and manure tones turning straight for us.

Rhymes ordered Bennett to flash the recognition signal "Lemon Moon," which Henry did several times with no response. This "Made in USA" bomber, which we later learned was flown by an Australian crew, kept boring in with a zero angle on the bow. Rhymes cleared the bridge and sounded the diving alarm. As we passed 40 feet the first pair of bombs exploded close aboard our port quarter. The force lifted our stern up to where the plane crew observed our propellers fanning the air.

SARGO went down out of control at a steep down angle with the stern planes jammed on hard dive. Frank Kay jumped in and helped Frank Perry unjam the stern planes. Jim Haywood put the bow planes on hard rise, and Lajaunie ordered bow buoyancy and safety blown, with little immediate effect.

At this point our Exec. Lt. J. D. FuIp, clawed his way up to the Air Manifold and braced Corbin as George blew all ballast tanks plus Safety and Bow Buoyancy. Meanwhile, the Engine Room Throttlemen and Oilers were each hanging from the overhead with one hand while closing an Inboard Exhaust Valve with the other hand. The acrobats were Motor Machinist's Mates Willie Green, Warren Morse, A.M. Davenport and C. W. Farmer.

Blowing all ballast pulled SARGO out of her plunge at around 300 feet and she started rising towards the surface like a cork. We vented the tanks as fast as we could, but McHenry reported that Main Ballast Tank No. 7 was hung-up in the hydraulic mode. Torpedomon Dave Johnson opened No. 7 vent by hand. As a consequence of upward momentum SARGO broached.

We started clawing our way down again and this time at about 50 feet keel depth the second pair of bombs exploded -- this time very close aboard our starboard beam. The detonations were tremendous jolts that even created optical illusions.

Ask any SARGO shipmate. Regardless of where he was standing, and whether he was looking to port or to starboard, he will swear that he saw the pressure hull dish in towards him about a foot and spring back in place as darkness descended and shattered glass rained onto the deck. One evacuee passenger even swore to Torpedoman H. D. Bise that he saw a 5-inch shell go straight through the torpedo room. At this remark Bise almost swallowed his dip of snuff.

The tremendous jolts of the second bombing knocked out all power through knocking out the overload relay breakers in the Main Control Cubicle. The blasts shattered most lights and gauges. They shattered the optics in both periscopes. They damaged the Conning Tower door, the Conning Tower upper hatch, and the After Battery hatch. We were taking water through each of these hull openings. We were in total darkness.

Each compartment had several emergency lights that were independent of the main lighting system. They came directly off the Main Batteries and were in steam tight fittings with separate switches. Unfortunately most of their bulbs were knocked out by the bombs.

At the Diving Station, where Lajaunie, Haywood, Perry, and the helmsman were struggling to shift Bow Planes, Stern Planes and Steering from power to hand operation, we could see by the glow of a flashlight that the indicator needles had been jolted off of both 165 foot large depth gauges and the 8 inch diameter 450 foot depth gauge. This left us a 4-1/2 inch diameter Sea Pressure gauge for calculating our depth at the ratio of 44 pounds sea pressure per 100 feet depth.

At this point darkness and futility seemed forever, yet no more than 90 seconds could have elapsed before Electrician's Mate Bob Rose restored power to SARGO through an exceptionally courageous act. To truly appreciate the significance of Bob's daring actions, we must backtrack to pre-war days in Pearl Harbor.

Among the several times that the Bureau of Engineering used SARGO as an experimental Guinea Pig, they ordered the installation on SARGO of some experimental main power overload Circuit Breaker Relays; they were ironically classed as Depth Charge Resistant.

These relays were installed by Electrician's Mate A. C Pettingill and Bob Rose in congested areas of the Main Control Cubicle where maximum clearances between hot bus bars were about one-half inch. During installation a spring leaf of one relay fractured and shorted across bus bars with a huge flash. Pettingill sustained serious burns on his face, hands, and arms; he was rushed off to the hospital. Bob Rose completed the installation of the relays.

Chief Electrician's Mate Joe Schmidt expressed distrust of the reliability of these overload relays under percussion shock. He obtained permission to make some wedge shaped wooden blocks to reinforce the relays in an emergency. The blocks were stored inside the Main Control Cubicle. This blocking concept was, in bygone days, the same as putting a copper penny beneath a screw in type fuse you might burn your house down, but you would still have juice.

Back to our wartime crisis, back to the Maneuvering Room, where Electrician's Mate Ace Koenig and Bob Rose were struggling to restore power. The Main Breakers were kicking out as fast as they could throw them in. Bob told Ace to standby for a Two-on-One sequence in which Ace would throw each breaker in, and keep pressure on the Control Lever, while Bob would wedge the breaker closed with a wooden block.

Bob Rose opened a Safety Door and entered the Main Control Cubicle in total darkness. By feel he located each fickle overload relay breaker; by feel he wedged each one closed with a wooden block, as Ace Koenig kept pressure on the Control Lever. Rose not only ran the risk of getting seriously burned like Pettingill; he ran the greater risk of self-electrocution.

The Good Lord answered our many prayers; He used Bob Rose as an emissary; and He protected Bob Rose. SARGO had main power; SARGO had some light.

Throughout the Boat there was a surge of confidence as we replaced light bulbs and got equipment back on the line. It should be pointed out that we experienced no panic or hysteria during this ordeal. We were a highly trained team of shipmates, with each man doing his assigned job to the best of his ability. It did make a great difference to be able to see what we were doing, and to have power to do it.

At the Diving Station we regained control of the Boat at about 75 Ibs. On the Sea Pressure Gauge equating to about 170 feet. Motor Machinist's Mate Jay Sears checked this gauge against readings of sea pressure gauges in the Pump Room and both Torpedo Rooms.

We remembered that somewhere on the way down water had stopped cascading out of the Conning Tower hatch. Planning down to 45 pounds stopped the leakage.

In other words the leaky door and hatches were warped from percussion shock of the bombs. Sea pressures greater than 40 pounds flattened out the warps. So SARGO cruised at 45 pounds depth until nightfall. We blew every thing when we surfaced. As we headed for Fremantle, West Australia, Skipper Jacobs had Bill Wolfe radio a report of the surprise attacks and the resultant damages. We were notified that the Aussie Plane Crew would be waiting on the dock to apologize. Our lead Quartermaster, "Jump" Murphy, a feisty 130 pounder, made the statement: "When I see the pilot of that damn plane, I'm gonna knock him flat on his can.

After we tied up at New Farm Wharf and got the brow over, the Aussie plane crew came aboard. As we went through a session of handshakes, apologies, forgiveness, smiles, and expressions of friendship J. D. FuIp observed that the pilot stood about six foot four and tipped the scales at around two twenty. J. D. turned to the Gangway Watch and said: "Go get Murphy."

Murphy walked up rather quietly, shook hands with the pilot, and said: "How do you do Sir?" This just goes to show that we American Submariners can be a bit feisty at times, but we are basically good-natured, and we do not harbor grudges. The ensuing few weeks in Fremantle and Perth provided SARGO's first true experience at R&R. At the same time we had to do our own refit, because this was before the days of Relief Crews a most important force in the waging of Submarine Warfare. We SARGO Shipmates worked all day and played all night day in and day out. Consequently, we had no choice but to go back on War Patrol to recover our strength and stamina.