Why I Signed
Confessions of a JO who sold his soul and signed a DH contract
(U) CAUTION: The following is NOT satire. Failure to properly understand that is NOT satire may result in confusion, a misunderstanding of subtle humor, and/or a design basis casualty.
October-November 2021 was probably the worst time of my entire life. It kicked off with a two week rabbit hole of Reactor Control Division troubleshooting, with the binder of Z0ZZ updates, countless briefs to the Captain, three separate changes to the ship’s schedule, and a handful of crisis calls to other boats on the waterfront to grab the parts that my ETN2 acting LCPO was sure would be the one to finally fix our issue. I was going through the ringer as RCA and as NUB as they come. The day before our eventual underway (my 25th birthday), I was the Engineering Duty Officer, running through the last of the retests until 2330. The Z0ZZ finally flew right as the 1MC to station the maneuvering watch was made. Instead of a sense of relief, I only felt dread.
A six-week underway was on the docket, with ERR, SCC, and ORSE keeping my mind too worried to actually get significant sleep. ERR went over as well as a post-Taco Tuesday fart in Maneuvering. The [REDCATED] score of course meant more post watch study halls, watch section seminars, Audit & Surveillance Reviews, and assigned engineering homework. Forward qualifications were put on hold – a direct order from the CO himself. (To be fair, we really did suck.)
On top of this, as the ghost of Hyman Rickover gives his hardest challenges to his strongest 1170s, more shit decided to break. More Z0ZZ’s, more briefs to the captain, more wanting to slam my fist into a locker.
I remember sitting in a stateroom, after putting the finishing touches on a message, deciding to humor myself by looking at my qualification process on NOSIS. I think I would have laughed at how red all of my qual cards were if I were not on the verge of tears. “Maybe I’ll just never qualify,” I legitimately thought, as I hit print on Z0ZZ update four, and routed it to the CONN for the ENG’s review.
With a sixth-sense for understanding the unique stress that submarine officers go through, my ENG didn’t review my message when I brought it up to the CONN. He instead pulled up my NOSIS, and went HAM (Hard as a Motherfucker) on my qual cards. “Hey, if you ever have to do [REDACTED], you’re going to pull up the manual, and we’ll have a standup plan and we’ll brief it right?”
“Yes”
“Sweet, it’s signed.”
He even called the CHOP into control, selected all of the CHOP checkouts on my Ship’s Duty Officer card and said, “You guys talked about this right?”
I made it on the other side of that underway, as improbable as it seemed at the time. I swore to myself as all rods were on the bottom and the reactor shut down complete (at 2300 due to finicky shore power, and because God thought it would be funny) that I would not subject myself to this torture for any longer than I was contractually obligated to. I would get out after my shore tour, get an MBA, meet a nice woman, have 2.5 kids, etc.
However 18 months later, I put my pen to the paper and signed up for a Department Head tour.
Submarining is the ultimate team sport. It can be a uniquely cruel and miserable existence. The saving grace in this experience is often the incredible humans that we get the privilege of working with deep beneath the waves.
I am still relatively new to The Subpar Group. I was halfway through deployment and at the Officer’s Club in Faslane, Scotland when I read A Junior Officer Approach to Junior Officer Retention, and one of the last passages really stuck with me.
“The real tragedy in all of this is that actual submarining is fun. There is no feeling that can compare to the sheer thrill and terror of watching the periscope aperture break the surface and the feeling of accomplishment and pride that accompanies shouting, “no close contacts” without broaching (especially when Doc is standing dive with a U/I). We still get goosebumps talking about it. Conversely, there are few things more beautiful than watching the night slowly surrender to the day while standing Surfaced Officer of the Deck the night before a Guam inbound. It’s hard to not be romantic about submarines.”
As the saying goes, Submarining is hard, but it doesn’t have to be miserable. But as an addendum to the adage, Submarining can also be fun, if you let it.
There is something uniquely awesome, badass, and humbling about being a Submarine Officer. You are granted an incredible responsibility as a young adult in carrying out missions vital to national security. You get to be uniquely situated as a leader of the best young men and women that America has to officer, guiding them through arduous challenges and leading them out to the other side to success.
Looking back, perhaps with EB Red colored glasses, I see those objectively miserable experiences that I had during my JO tour fondly. Yes, SUBS update 12 sucked. Yes, the critique for sort of violating Cold Water Interlocks sucked. However, I cherish the memories I made with the sailors I went through those experiences with, and the bonds I made with them will last me a lifetime. I love the person that I became because of those experiences.
I do not think there is a more rewarding experience than getting to be a mentor to those who you lead. The transformational impact that a great leader can have on you as a follower cannot be understated. My ENG was that for me. I do not think that I could have made it out on the other side of that tour in one piece if not for him and others like him to be a sounding board and an example of what it means to be as a leader. If I am as fortunate, I hope to be that for a new generation of submariners, and again, have some fun along the way.
And yes, the bonus doesn’t hurt.
Submarines Twice,
Bart Mancuso
We publish a lot of satire, but not always. We are very grateful that LT Mancuso was willing to share such a personal piece with SUBPAR.
Want The Subpar Group to do more serious pieces? Email it to thesubpargroup@gmail.com