Each generation of Submariners benefits from the work of the precious generation.
As a young man, I had no idea what it would be like to serve on a submarine. Despite growing up in the Steel Valley of Pittsburgh and its suburbs where the birth of the nuclear Navy really occurred, I had no one in my family to talk to about boats. So when I got orders in December 1972 to go to submarine school, I only had a vague idea of what I was getting into.
I had a reasonable understanding of the Navy since I was a third generation navy volunteer. Grandfather Mac served on a coast defense monitor on the east coast in the First World War and Dad had sailed away to the western Pacific in the closing months of World War Two. Joining at seventeen seemed like a natural thing to do. But I…
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