Tribute to WWII Sub Vets

Each brick is a submarine - and its crew - eternally on patrol

My family has a history of military service:

• Brother - Marine
• Dad - Navy
• Step-Dad - Army
• Uncle - Navy

The USS Peto at Sea

But some of the most compelling stories came from my late Grandpa Charlie.  He (like so many others) lied about his age in order to enlist in the Navy during WWII.  He served, and saw action, on the USS Peto, a Gato-class submarine that was active from 1942 to 1946.

The Gato class was the core of America's submarine force in WWII, followed later in the war by the Balao and Tench classes.  Of the 77 Gato class boats, 20 were lost at sea.  A surviving relic, the Pampanito, can be boarded and toured at Fisherman's Wharf in San Francisco.  Here's Grandpa Charlie (second from left) when we toured it with him and some of his shipmates:

The USS Pampanito

Today's submariners live like kings compared to WWII submariners.  They have better life expectancies as well.  During WWII, the US lost 52 submarines with over 3,500 men - one in every seven submariners.  Only two submarines were lost with survivors - all of the others went down with all hands.  (Several survivors from lost submarines were discovered being held as POWs at the end of the war.)

Each marker is a lost boat - with a list of each crew member eternally on patrol

The Gato class was considered luxurious compared to other navies' boats at the time - it boasted laundry, refrigerated food and (gasp) distilled drinking water.  However, the men lived in conditions which would drive many people insane - crammed in like sardines, working shoulder-to-shoulder, rarely seeing sunlight or land, and worst of all, living with the constant fear of an unseen enemy lurking above.

The Peto's battle flag, which will one day grace my den

The experience produced the most tightly-knit group of men I've ever seen.  They share a bond not unlike cancer survivors or the early astronauts.  Their wives became close friends.  They went to each other's children's weddings.  It was sad to hear of the dwindling number of attendees at their annual conventions.

God bless you all, and we miss you G-Pa.

The author with Grandpa Charlie at Disneyland