Most officers who joined the Navy's nuclear submarine program in its early days had to undergo an interview by Admiral Rickover, founder of the nuclear propulsion program. Countless stories of intimidation and circular reasoning describe the probing mind of the great admiral. One officer claimed that two inches had been sawed off the front legs of the chair in which he sat during the interview. Amidst efforts to keep from sliding onto the floor the officer answered curve-ball questions designed to reveal his true nature.

Occasionally, an officer was able to stand his ground. Carl Trost had been a brilliant young officer on Sirago (SS-485). His legend remained after his transfer to the nuclear program. A part of his legend was his interview with Admiral Rickover during which the Admiral reportedly asked, "So I suppose you think you stood higher than I did at the Academy?" The future admiral and CNO responded, "I don't know how you stood at the Academy, but I know you could not have stood higher than I."

Admiral Trost was number one as a midshipman and everything else he did. He continues to be a remarkable gentleman in every respect.

One young ensign had only heard of Admiral Rickover. The stories impressed him with how such extravagant authority could be wielded. The naive officer had only graduated from OCS a few months before and was the lowest of lows on SubPac Staff. His meeting with Admiral Rickover is recounted in, "Of Wives and Submarines" as follows:

"The high, starched collar of Ensign Gilhooly's dress white uniform gripped the throat like a hangman's noose and the three metal clasps holding it together knifed into the Adam's apple at the slightest nod of the head. Gilhooly looked like a stand-in for HMS Pinafore. He had to hop down the S.O.Q. stairs and walk with minimum leg motion through the lobby where officers' hats were strewn on a table. Gil slowly made his way into the battle line of milling officers and their ladies making light of their mutually miserable situation. With drinks in hand and smiles affixed like plaster to their faces they pretended an indifference to their suffering. Synthetic chatter hummed above the background music which came from an unknown source.

"The conversation hovered around the progress of the nuclear powered submarine. A hush came over the crowd as an awkward little fellow in a civilian suit came ambling into the arena followed by a number of four stripers. The word 'Rickover' could be heard and the little man began shaking hands with everyone within range. Gil watched him and was interested to note that the little fellow never smiled. He looked like he was having as much fun as a sinner at Sunday morning communion. Nothing phased his immovable face. His gray eyes came into brief contact with those to whom he was being introduced, but that was as far as the admiral's emotions took him.

"After the initial shock of seeing the great man in person had worn off, the crowd returned to the ebbing and flowing of people inter-mixing with each other; of exchanging polite greetings and moving on to accomplish the same business at another circle of officers and their ladies.

"He recognized a wife and entered her circle of friends. She extended her hand to him and he attempted to get a flavor of the conversation that had until now not included a man. He began to get into the swing of the 1955 clothes fashion discussion and had not realized that somehow the great admiral had inserted himself into the circle of women. Gil first became aware that something was amiss when he listened to the feminine talk dribbling off to silence and saw in his peripheral vision a new figure emerging next to him. He unconsciously reached down and adjusted his web belt buckle and hoped his nervousness didn't show. 'Please continue with what you were saying,' purred Admiral Rickover.

"The ladies attempted to obey but their hearts weren't in it. They simply stared down at the admiral's ill fitting suit and stumbled from one sentence to another. Finally, the admiral turned to Gilhooly and asked, 'Who are you?'

"Gilhooly, the smallest frog in the pond, stood staring back at the admiral. There were several things he could have done, such as shaking the admiral's hand or inquiring of him about the status of the Navy's nuclear program or even telling the admiral his name. The sad fact is that when his mouth opened nothing came out. He could hear the words he wanted to say but there was a disconnect between his mind and his vocal chords. His mouth worked up and down and there emerged from his shallow breathing a whisp of air that grew to a squeak. He drew in more air for a second try but he saw impatience in the admiral's face. That took the wind from ensign Gilhooly's sails so that he could only stare at the admiral's face as if it were on Mount Rushmore.

"Admiral Hyman G. Rickover left the group of dithering women and the one lone ensign who had obviously lost his way from the surface Navy."

Not all Rickover stories were negative. A hunched over man in dark suit came aboard a nuclear submarine in the 1960s and brushed past the topside watch without saying a word. As Rickover headed for the forward access hatch the topside watch stander shouted for to him halt. He didn't, and the topside watch pulled his 45 automatic slide, loading the chamber. The Rickover halted when he heard the click. He approached the topside watch stander, showed him his identification and asked him his name and rate. The watch stander gave his name and rate as seaman. Rickover said, "Good job, you're now third class."

During a nuclear power inspection on a newly commissioned 600 series boat the chief controllerman was subjected to questioning by three civilian experts. They didn't know that this controllerman had taught nuclear propulsion for three years before going aboard his new boat. They demanded that he draw from memory the propulsion plant in every detail. He did so without much effort. During the drawing and explanation Rickover came into the compartment. He wanted to know just what was going on. The controllerman explained and added that he had deliberately made four mistakes, none of which had been caught by the civilians. The controllerman pointed out the errors and the three men were summarily fired. When leaving the compartment the Admiral bumped into the controllerman who was bent over at the time. Later in the day, Rickover came into the chiefs' quarters and apologized for bumping into him. The controllerman took the advantage and asked why it was that the Admiral always demanded a new, clean set of khakis on each visit to a submarine. He responded in honesty that the clothing went to the Episcopal Boys School in upper state New York. Since the admiral was small in stature the clothes fit the needy young men.

Those who only knew of Admiral Rickover as a distant figure regarded him with mixed admiration and fear, but looking in hindsight its good to know than under his granite exterior lay a heart with concern for others.