Submarine Research Center - Submarine Command Leadership

Submarine Command Leadership

Principles of Leadership - What Makes a Good Submarine Skipper?

While receiving the oak leaves to his Knight’s Cross from Adolf Hitler, the Nazi leader asked Wolfgang Luth, the second highest scoring U-boat skipper, what made him so successful. Luth’s reply was, “I care about my men.” Luth (also spelled Lueth for the umlaut) was a remarkable submarine commander having sunk 47 Allied ships for a total of 225,756 tons. He had commanded U-13, U-9, U-138, U-43 and U-181 before being assigned as commandant of the Marineschule – Muerwik in 1943. History would not be able to more fully understand what techniques Luth employed to demonstrate his answer to Hitler, were it not for a lecture he gave on 17 December, 1943.

The lecture to prospective commanding officers of U-boats was intended to illustrate some practical applications of what submarine leadership was all about. It dwelled on the two dimensions of submarine warfare; boredom and stamina to withstand the pressures of undersea combat. Some of his points are well taken today, since they can be directly applied to America’s nuclear powered deterrent submarines, both FBM and fast attack types. He described submarine warfare as a war of nerves where not only depth charging demanded steel nerve, but the isolation from the outside world pushed a man’s sanity limits. While the Type IX German submarine was primitive by today’s standards and much of Luth’s suggestions seem obvious to modern skippers, a brief review of some practical suggestions may act as a check list for submarine leadership.

Life aboard a submarine on patrol lacks the natural rhythm of life on land. Sleep cycles are set by the submarine’s routine and have no relation to day and night. These demands also produce dependency on caffeine in strong coffee for stamina in watch standing. Smoking’s narcotic affect together with coffee are most adverse when fatigue from lack of sleep drains men’s alertness. Lack of exercise in confined living, together with a limited diet produce long lasting physical problems. These ailments are well-recognized today and submarine physicians address them by direct intervention. In Luth’s day every man was expected to deal with boredom, constipation, fatigue, skin problems and lack of hygiene as a part of being a stalwart submariner. In combating these conditions Luth recognized the importance of discipline, sense of mission, daily routine, officer attitudes, and spiritual leadership.

Discipline and punishment for infractions or incompetence was a matter of the special conditions brought on by life in a submarine. For example, withholding liberty is not appropriate since the time of the infraction and punishment is too great. Luth suggested a number of bunkless days where the steel plates of the torpedo room were most inhospitable, or assigned the man to sorting rotten potatoes, or cleaning bilges The worst was to place a man “in Coventry” for a week or so and this peer pressure was far worse than withholding pay or liberty. As a final step Luth believed that the man’s infraction and punishment should be known to the crew. This information was placed on the bulletin board and the ship’s paper. But, his over-riding concept to prospective commanding officers was to prevent a condition that might lead to incompetence, an error in judgment, a lack of alertness or other action or lack thereof which might place the submarine in jeopardy. Punishment was intended to educate. The following were meant to keep crew morale high, the boat’s mission upper-most in each crew member’s mind and a feeling of mutual support for other crew member’s welfare.

Insist that watches be relieved on time. It is a matter of personal honor.
Respect includes recognition of the captain when he enters a compartment for the first time.
Lookouts are allowed to talk while surface cruising providing alertness is maintained.
Let the crew share in the mission’s success. Pass the word as to what’s up tactically to every man in the crew.
When a job is well done, create a ceremony to recognize a man’s or team contribution.
Share the bridge (or attack center) with off-watch crew members not normally involved in the central operation of the boat.
Keep a well regulated daily routine without too much regimentation. Leave a little slack for spontaneity.
A man’s bunk and sleep time are inviolable except in emergency.
Evening half-hour of crew member-created entertainment is a morale booster.
Holidays are occasions for special events and recognition. Preparation is the focus of the fun.
Keep a clean ship. Saturday is devoted to clean sweep-downs.
Daily COB-CO conferences keep the CO aware of brewing problems.
Keep a reign on poor taste, be it profanity, pornography or sense of humor.
Insist on courtesy in the wardroom, crews mess and passageways.
Give the officers access to the wardroom so they can grumble about the captain in private.
Test diving officer and conning officer by asking “what-if” questions pertaining to emergency procedures.
Keep calm under the most trying circumstances.
Hold tournaments and competition – singing, chess, etc. – give prizes such as a day off without duty.
Recognize birthdays in the crew’s mess with first servings.
Give lectures and classes on nautical issues that all seamen should know.

While much of Wolfgang Luth’s suggestions are a matter of course in modern American submarines there may be a few ideas of value in the distant past of the grand U-boat era.
Moving forward to 2011, the Secretary of the Navy, Gordon England delivers an address at the United States Naval Academy’s Forrestal Lecture Series. He identifies leadership points in a more general framework.

Provide an environment for every person to excel.
Treat every person with dignity and respect. . .
Be forthright, honest and direct. . .
Improve effectiveness to gain efficiency.
Cherish your time and the time of others.
Identify the critical problems that need solution for the organization to succeed.
Describe complex issues and problems simply.
Never stop learning.
Encourage constructive criticism.
Surround yourself with great and people and delegate to them full authority and responsibility.
Make ethical standards more important than legal requirements.
Strive for team-based wins. . .
Emphasize capability, not organization.
Incorporate measures and metrics everywhere.
Concentrate on core functions and outsource all others.

Mr. England’s points of leadership could apply to any type of organization although they were in answer to a series of questions specific to submarines. His 15 concepts would be as valid for the CEO of a company as they would for a submarine commanding officer. If these concepts are to be useful for submarine officers they might need to be translated into submarine environment specifics. And that’s where Lcdr. Luth’s check list of practical applications can be of use. Compare the two lists and see if Luth’s ideas might serve as action statements for many of SecNav’s concepts.

An Example of Limited Commanding Officer Leadership

The H-3 was launched in Seattle/Bremerton in 1913 and was the third such boat in the series. She was 150 feet in length with five compartments; the torpedo room, forward battery, control, after battery and engine room. She was assigned to the Coast Torpedo Fleet and operated with surface units. She left Bremerton in December of 1916 and headed south under the command of Lt. Harry R. Bogush. The operation order included several ports of call as the little submarine in company with the USS Cheyenne, an obsolescent auxiliary tender, made its way to Southern California. Its second stop was at Humbolt Bay, in Northern California not far from Eureka. As the boat began its entry into the bay, visibility dropped and its unreliable engines again gave trouble. The engineers shut one down and Lt. Bogush proceeded on the remaining single engine. The current was strong and in the reduced visibility the navigator was unsure of the boat’s position. A break in the fog allowed the captain, on the collapsible bridge to spot a column of black smoke. Thinking this to be the Cheyenne, he altered course toward her, anticipating following her into the bay. In fact, he had seen the smoke stack of the Hammond Lumber Mill at Samoa Beach on the northeast tangent of the bay. The date was December 15, 1917.

Garfish struck a sandy bottom and the captain attempted to back full, but the single engine wasn’t enough to counteract the surging wave action which swung the boat to broadside the beach. Each wave pounded the boat farther into shore and tipped it to a 45 degree angle. The canvas bridge was ripped away while below, the list and constant pounding slopped electrolyte into the passageways. This combined with sea water entering from ruptures and open hatches. Men who tried to make their way onto the deck found it too treacherous to stand. Falling equipment in the boat injured others who tried to hang on, in the crashing environment.

Meanwhile, two boys on the beach saw the submarine and thought it to be a beached whale. They ran to the Mill and brought several adults who quickly saw the catastrophe at hand. They called the Coast Guard which appeared an hour later. Evacuation of the boat was the most urgent need and since failed electric power in the boat meant no radio communication, hand semaphore flags were used to set a breeches buoy transfer. It was a difficult task for the professional Coast Guard and it took 14 hours to get all 27 crew members to shore, many of whom had injuries and acid burns. During this time, the people of Samoa tried to assist. They provided hot coffee to the rescued men as they climbed up the sand. Each man found a warm home in which to rest while the Coast Guard and Navy pondered the situation. The Cheyenne appeared off shore and anchored awaiting orders. The tide and current swung the submarine’s bow into the beach and it settled in that position while gradually settling itself in the sand.

Lines were taken from the Garfish stern to the Cheyenne and a tug, the Arapaho. They went full on both ships’ engines, but the line parted and eventually the attempt to refloat the Garfish was abandoned. At this point, authority to solve the problem of the beached submarine shifted to Mare Island, where the USS Milwaukee, a 10,000 ton, 426 foot converted cruiser with 22, 454 shaft horsepower was assigned the task. The ship recently left dry dock and was under the command of Lt. W. F. Newton. He received his orders to proceed to Humbolt Bay and there to refloat the Garfish and to tow the vessel to Mare Island. The fresh commanding officer had limited experience and none at all when it came to tackling a problem of the this nature. Still, he had determination and was sure that with his ship’s six boilers he could pull the submarine off the beach with brute strength. No one at Mare Island and ship’s company had the foresight to take on board any specialized equipment for towing other than two hefty chain and steel hawsers of 1600 feet together with standard couplings. The need for a quick release Pelican Hook never arose in the preparations.

While underway to Humbolt Bay, the Milwaukee officers reviewed the process of pulling Garfish free of the beach. The problem of releasing the cable in an emergency from the ship’s stern was discussed and the lack of a Pelican Hook was covered by sailors who would stand by with acetylene tanks and hack saws.

The ship arrived and took up station with two bow anchors. The operation was to take place at 3:00 AM the following morning at the highest point of the tide. Again, fog shrouded the area as the two steel cables were secured to the Garfish’s bow, then brought aft through its stern cleats. The Milwaukee kept in position with the aid of the Cheyenne’s and Arapaho’s towing lines on its starboard bow. The Milwaukee’s engines with those of the other two ships surged ahead at full power. Swirls of sand and foam churned toward the beach, but the stubborn Garfish was held fast by the suction of the sand. When Captain Newton concluded that his best effort had failed, he rung up a stop bell to create the slack that would be needed to release the cables. He ran from the bridge to the stern, leaving only the helmsman on the bridge. The captain supervised the hammering on the cable shackling pins. They lodged at an angle and Newton then ordered the men with hack saws to go to work when the acetylene hose parted. Below, in the engine room, stokers felt the rudder post dig into the sand and reported this by runner to the stern where the captain stood by watching his men sawing cable.

Meanwhile, on the Cheyenne and Arapaho, the captains saw that the Milwaukee had ceased its effort. Both ships slipped their towing cables. The Milwaukee was now at the mercy of the current which pushed its bow parallel to the beach. Newton ran to the bridge, but before his could go ahead full to extricate his vessel from the approaching beach the beam of the ship was victimized by the pounding waves. Since the ship was involved with the surf and its keel close to being held firm by beach sand, the engines and screws were now useless and the large ship was as stranded as the submarine it had attempted to refloat.

The Navy had dismissed a $17,000 bid from logging company to get the submarine into the water. The bid was recognized for what it was: a ridiculously low bid submitted by a company having no idea what was involved. Now, with all other options at an end, the Navy awarded the bid. The private company simply laid support timbers upon which it jacked the submarine out of the sand. With logs as roller bars and a donkey engine with cable it pulled the boat off the sand and onto dry land where it was transported to a launch basin. There, the boat was refloated and an inspection found it to be in relatively good condition.

While the H-3 was towed to Mare Island, repaired and put back into limited service as a training boat, the Milwaukee was left to rot. The Navy determined that any attempt to refloat the ship would be too expensive in view of the ship’s worth. There it still lies with its rusting plates projecting from the surf for those interested persons wanting to contemplate what can go wrong when captains of limited experience attempt a task for which they are not qualified.