U.S.S. Barb: The Sub That Sank a Train
In 1973 an Italian submarine named Enrique Tazzoli was sold for a
paltry $100,000 as scrap metal. The submarine, given to the Italian Navy in
1953
was actually an incredible veteran of World War II service with a heritage
that
never should have passed so unnoticed into the graveyards of the metal
Recyclers. The U.S.S. Barb was a pioneer, paving the way for the first
submarine
launched missiles and flying a battle flag unlike that of any other ship. In
addition to the Medal of Honor ribbon at the top of the flag identifying the
heroism of its captain, Commander Eugene "Lucky" Fluckey, the bottom
border of
the flag bore the image of a Japanese locomotive. The U.S.S. Barb was indeed,
the submarine that "SANK A TRAIN".
July 18, 1945, (
It was after 4 A.M. and Commander Fluckey rubbed his eyes as he peered over
the
map spread before him. It was the twelfth war patrol of the Barb, the fifth
under Commander Fluckey. He should have turned command over to another skipper
after four patrols, but had managed to strike a deal with Admiral Lockwood to
make one more trip with the men he cared for like a father, should his fourth
patrol be successful. Of course, no one suspected when he had struck that deal
prior to his fourth and what should have been his final war patrol on the
Barb,
that Commander Fluckey's success would be so great he would be awarded the
Medal
of Honor.
Commander Fluckey smiled as he remembered that patrol. "Lucky"
Fluckey
they called him. On January 8th the Barb had emerged victorious from a running
two-hour night battle after sinking a large enemy ammunition ship. Two weeks
later in
In only 5 fathoms (30 feet) of water his crew had unleashed the sub's forward
torpedoes, then turned and fired four from the stern. As he pushed the Barb to
the full limit of its speed through the dangerous waters in a daring
withdrawal
to the open sea, he recorded eight direct hits on six enemy Ships. Then, on
the
return home he added yet another Japanese freighter to the tally for the
Barb's
eleventh patrol, a score that exceeded even the number of that patrol.
What could possibly be left for the Commander to accomplish who, just
three months earlier had been in
He smiled to himself as he looked again at the map showing the rail line that
ran along the enemy coast line. This final patrol had been promised as the
Barb's "graduation patrol" and he and his crew had cooked up an
unusual finale.
Since the 8th of June they had harassed the enemy, destroying the enemy
supplies
and coastal fortifications with the first submarine launched rocket attacks.
Now
his crew was buzzing excitedly about bagging a train.
The rail line itself wouldn't be a problem. A shore patrol could go
ashore under cover of darkness to plant the explosives...one of the sub's
55-pound scuttling cha rges. But this early morning Lucky Fluckey and his
officers were puzzling over how they could blow not only the rails, but one of
the frequent trains that Shuttled supplies to equip the Japanese war machine.
Such a daring feat could handicap the enemy's war effort for several days, a
week, perhaps even longer. It was a crazy idea, just the kind of operation
"Lucky" Fluckey had become famous...or infamous...for. But no matter
how crazy
the idea might have sounded, the Barb's skipper would not risk the lives of
his
men. Thus the problem... how to detonate the charge at the moment the train
passed, without endangering the life of a shore party. PROBLEM? Not on
Commander Fluckey's ship. His philosophy had always been "We don't have
problems, only solutions".
11:27 AM "
blowing up a train. The approach of a Japanese freighter with a frigate escort
demands traditional submarine warfare. By noon the frigate is laying on the
ocean floor in pieces and the Barb is in danger of becoming the hunted.
6:07 PM Solutions! If you don't look for them, you'll never find them.
And even then, sometimes they arrive in the most unusual fashion. Cruising
slowly beneath the surface to evade the enemy plane now circling overhead, the
monotony is broken with an exciting new idea. Instead of having a crewman on
shore to trigger explosives to blow both rail and a passing train, why not let
the train BLOW ITSELF up. Billy Hatfield was excitedly explaining how he had
cracked nuts on the railroad tracks as a kid, placing the nuts between two
ties
so the sagging of the rail under the weight of a train would break them open.
"Just like cracking walnuts," he explained. "To complete the
circuit (detonating
the 55-pound charge) we hook in a micro switch ...between two ties. We don't
set
it off, the TRAIN does." Not only did Hatfield have the plan, he wanted
to be
part of the volunteer shore party.
The solution found, there was no shortage of volunteers, all that was
needed was the proper weather...a little cloud cover to Darken the moon for
the
mission ashore. Lucky Fluckey established his own criteria for the volunteer
party: ...No married men would be included, except for Hatfield, ...The party
would include members from each department, ...The opportunity would be split
between regular Navy and Navy Reserve sailors, ...At least half of the men had
to have been Boy Scouts, experienced in how to handle themselves in medical
emergencies and in the woods. FINALLY, "Lucky" Fluckey would lead
the saboteurs
himself.
When the names of the 8 selected sailors was announced it was greeted
with a mixture of excitement and disappointment. Among the disappointed was
Commander Fluckey who surrendered his opportunity at the insistence of his
officers that "as commander he belonged with the Barb," coupled with
the threat
from one that "I swear I'll send a message to ComSubPac if you attempt
this
(joining the shore party himself)." Even a Japanese POW being held on the
Barb
wanted to go, promising not to try to escape.
In the meantime, there would be no more harassment of Japanese shipping
or shore operations by the Barb until the train mission had been accomplished.
The crew would "lay low", prepare their equipment, train, and wait
for the
weather.
July 22, 1945 (
Bay was wearing thin the patience of Commander Fluckey and his innovative
crew.
Everything was ready. In the four days the saboteurs had anxiously watched the
skies for cloud cover, the inventive crew of the Barb had built their
microswitch. When the need was posed for a pick and shovel to bury the
explosive
charge and batteries, the Barb's engineers had cut up steel plates in the
lower
flats of an engine room, then bent and welded them to create the needed tools.
The only things beyond their control was the weather....and time. Only five
days
remained in the Barb's patrol.
Anxiously watching the skies, Commander Fluckey noticed plumes of
cirrus clouds, then white stratus capping the mountain peaks ashore. A cloud
cover was building to hide the three-quarters moon. This would be the night.
MIDNIGHT, July 23, 1945 The Barb had crept within 950 yards of the
shoreline. If it was somehow seen from the shore it would probably be mistaken
for a schooner or Japanese patrol boat. No one would suspect an American
submarine so close to shore or in such shallow water. Slowly the small boats
were lowered to the water and the 8 saboteurs began paddling toward the enemy
beach. Twenty-five minutes later they pulled the boats ashore and walked on
the
surface of the Japanese homeland. Having lost their points of navigation, the
saboteurs landed near the backyard of a house. Fortunately the residents had
no
dogs, though the sight of human AND dog's tracks in the sand along the beach
alerted the brave sailors to the potential for unexpected danger.
Stumbling through noisy waist-high grasses, crossing a highway and then
stumbling into a 4-foot drainage ditch, the saboteurs made their way to the
railroad tracks. Three men were posted as guards, Markuson assigned to examine
a
nearby water tower. The Barb's auxiliary man climbed the ladder, then stopped
in
shock as he realized it was an enemy lookout tower....an OCCUPIED tower.
Fortunately the Japanese sentry was peace fully sleeping and Markuson was able
to quietly withdraw and warn his raiding party.
The news from Markuson caused the men digging the placement for the
explosive charge to continue their work more slowly and quietly. Suddenly,
from
less than 80 yards away, an express train was bearing down on them. The
appearance was a surprise, it hadn't occured to the crew during the planning
for
the mission that there might be a night train. When at last it passed, the
brave
but nervous sailors extracated themselves from the brush into which they had
lept, to continue their task. Twenty minutes later the holes had been dug and
the explosives and batteries hidden beneath fresh soil.
During planning for the mission the saboteurs had been told that, with
the explosives in place, all would retreat a safe distance while Hatfield made
the final connection. If the sailor who had once cracked walnuts on the
railroad
tracks slipped during this final, dangerous procedure, his would be the only
life lost. On this night it was the only order the saboteurs refused to obey,
all of them peering anxiously over Hatfield's shoulder to make sure he did it
right. The men had come too far to be disappointed by a switch failure.
1:32 A.M. Watching from the deck of the Barb, Commander Fluckey
allowed himself a sigh of relief as he noticed the flashlight signal from the
beach announcing the departure of the shore party. He had skillfully, and
daringly, guided the Barb within 600 yards of the enemy beach. There was less
than 6 feet of water beneath the sub's keel, but Fluckey wanted to be close in
case trouble arose and a daring rescue of his saboteurs became necessary.
1:45 A.M. The two boats carring his saboteurs were only halfway back
to the Barb when the sub's machinegunner yelled, "CAPTAIN! Another train
coming
up the tracks!" The Commander grabbed a megaphone and yelled through th e
night,
"Paddle like the devil!", knowing full well that they wouldn't reach
the Barb
before the train hit the microswitch.
1:47 A.M. The darkness was shattered by brilliant light and the roar
of the explosion. The boilers of the locomotive blew, shattered pieces of the
engine blowing 200 feet into the air. Behind it the cars began to accordian
into
each other, bursting into flame and adding to the magnificent fireworks
display.
Five minutes later the saboteurs were lifted to the deck by their exuberant
comrades as the Barb turned to slip back to safer waters. Moving at only two
knots, it would be a while before the Barb was into waters deep enough to
allow
it to submerge. It was a moment to savor, the culmination of teamwork,
ingenuity
and daring by the Commander and all his crew. "Lucky" Fluckey's
voice came over
the intercom. "All hands below deck not absolutely needed to maneuver the
ship
have permission to come topside." He didn't have to repeat the
invitation.
Hatches sprang open as the proud sailors of the Barb gathered on her decks to
proudly watch the distant fireworks display. The Barb had "sunk" a
Japanese
TRAIN!
On August 2, 1945 the Barb arrived at Midway, her twelfth war patrol
concluded. Meanwhile
of an armed assault on the Japanese homeland. Military tacticians estimated
such an invasion would cost more than a million American casualties. Instead
of
such a costly armed offensive to end the war, on August 6th the B-29 bomber
Enola Gay dropped a single atomic bomb on the city of
such bomb, unleashed 4 days later on
surrender terms on August 15th. On September 2, 1945 in
documents ending the war in the Pacific were signed.
The story of the saboteurs of the U.S.S. Barb is one of those unique,
little known stories of World War II. It becomes increasingly important when
one realizes that the 8 sailors who blew up the train at near
conducted the ONLY GROUND COMBAT OPERATION on the Japanese
"homeland" of World
War II. The eight saboteurs were: Paul Saunders, William Hatfield, Francis
Sever,
William Walker.
NOTE: Eugene Bennett Fluckey retired from the Navy as a Rear Admiral, and
wears
in addition to his Medal of Honor, FOUR Navy Crosses...a record of awards
unmatched by any living American. In 1992 his own history of the U.S.S. Barb
was published in the award winning book, THUNDER BELOW. Over the past several
years proceeds from the sale of this exciting book have been used by Admiral
Fluckey to provide free reunions for the men who served him aboard the Barb,
and
their wives.