Ostlund - Find Em, Chase Em, Sink Em The Mysterious Loss of the WWII Submarine USS Gudgeon

FIND EM, CHASE EM, SINK EM

LYONS PRESS

Guilford, Connecticut

An imprint of Globe Pequot Press

Copyright 2006, 2012 by Mike Ostlund

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, except as may be expressly permitted in writing from the publisher. Requests for permission should be addressed to Globe Pequot Press, Attn: Rights and Permissions Department, P.O. Box 480, Guilford, CT 06437.

Lyons Press is an imprint of Globe Pequot Press.

Photographs by Michael Benavav

Layout artist: Sue Murray

Project editor: Meredith Dias

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.

ISBN 978-0-7627-7282-7

Printed in the United States of America

EISBN 978-0-7627-8429-5

To the men who fought on Gudgeon

For Bill

Find Em, Chase Em, Sink Em

USS GUDGEON MOTTO

TABLE OF CONTENTS

FOREWORD

When Mike Ostlund contacted me about two years ago inquiring about my experiences aboard the Gudgeon, SS-211, during the six war patrols I made aboard her, I was a little dubious as to his intent. I had read so many self-aggrandizing books by submarine heroes that one chapter told me all about the gist, the meat, the subject matter, of the story and I knew it was a duplication of the many books that had preceded it. There would be reams written about one individual, 99 percent of the time the captain, and hardly a word about the motor machinist mates, the electrician mates, the quartermasters, without whom the boat would never have got to her patrol area. Then there were the torpedomen whose responsibility was the weapon, without which there would be no reason to even be on the patrol, and many more rates, all imperative for the success of the mission.

I was also near nausea every time I saw a submarine movie, becoming a firm believer that whoever had been the advisor on the movie filming most assuredly didnt know the intelligence level of the enlisted personnel, nor had he made a war patrol, particularly aboard the Gudgeon. We also had junior officers who, when designated as heads of different departments, had to learn the job from the people they were going to supervise. Once in a while the gunnery officer or the engineering officer would be recognized for the performance of his department, but it was rare indeed that the men who had taught them the job, and did the performing, ever received any accolades. Somehow in the endeavor to make heroes, those who concocted the hero forgot the details of the people who made it all possible. Submarine operation was entirely teamwork, and everyone was essential for the operation to be a success. As the reader progresses into the factual operation of the Gudgeon, he will understand why a defeated Japanese admiral in Yokohama told me personally, The greatest mistake of our attack on Pearl Harbor was not sinking your submarines. They killed us.

While attending a reunion of World War II sub vets accompanied by two shipmates, Irvin Moose Hornkohl and Ray Guts Foster, I had the distinct pleasure of meeting the aspiring author Mike Ostlund. We found that he had lost an uncle, Lieutenant Jr. Grade Bill Ostlund, when the Gudgeon met her demise in 1944. Mike had gone to great length in his search for information, any information, pictures, documents, letters, and personal interviews to get a true picture of the type of people who served with, and are entombed with, his Uncle Bill. He had read the now unclassified patrol reports, as we had, that were submitted by the captain to the squadron commander, thence to ComSubPac after every patrol for evaluation. The reports do not tell the real story. Their reports were often self-serving and lacked key details about others aboard the Gudgeon who participated in the success or failure of the patrol. Mike pointed out something that we had been aware of since we graduated from boot camp, but it was amusing that he, a civilian, could see the debasement of those who made the submarine a fighting machine. How is it that one man can be classified as a hero when seventy-four to eighty men participated in the incident that is classified as heroic? Mike wanted to know.

HE WANTED AUTHENTICITY, and the only credible source was the men who had been there, knew exactly what happened, and were ready to affirm what was not in the reports submitted by the commanding officer. There were instances where either an enlisted man or a junior officer was instrumental in saving the boat and the lives of all aboard, but whose actions went unreported. To refute the patrol report would be like cutting ones throat. They had no recourse; neither had the enlisted personnel. And if the powers that be decided that the patrol deserved a Navy Cross, one would think the captain would thank the crew for their assistance in his getting the award. This rarely happened. Guts Foster would put it succinctly, We got them one hell of a lot of Navy Crosses.

Another sore spot was in how medals were distributed. These honors were rarely awarded to the lackeys who deserved it. Ron Schooley, for example, a gunners mate striker, once spotted the largest troop transport in the Japanese merchant marine while on lookout one night, reported it to the officer-of-the-deck, who in turn reported it to the captain. We sank the transport and the officer-of-the-deck got the Navy and Marine Corps medal, while Ron got promoted to third-class torpedoman, a rate for which he had already passed the exam. During another run where we sank two transports, a cook got the Navy and Marine Corps medals because he baked the captains favorite cookies. So much for heroes and medals.

What I felt when I entered Pearl Harbor aboard the SS-210, the new submarine Grenadier, a short time after the attack, and viewed the still-smoking remnants of our fleet was not defeat but an unadulterated hatred for the people who had perpetrated this vile deed. I am pretty certain this feeling was shared 100 percent among the crew, for we were practically all prewar submariners. Our job was to hold the line until our ships were repaired, replaced, and replenished. I didnt get the opportunity aboard the Grenadier. But fortunately I became a member of the Gudgeon, the first submarine to make a patrol off Japan, sink a man-of-war, and go on to achieve an incredible number of sinkings. There are many men who have raised a family and lived a long life because of the thousands of Japanese troops that we killed before they could get a chance to kill our men on the beaches. Gudgeon and many others did the job and more. We called her the Queen because she was definitely majestic.

I was sold on helping Mike Ostlund write this historical narrative. His desire for authenticity had led him to search tirelessly through the Japanese archives of ships sunk by all military sources and to discover where Gudgeon was lost, facts that had remained mysterious to the military until now. He was also able to almost pinpoint the position where it occurred. This information has been given to a sea-searching company that may use it in the near future to find Gudgeon.

Mikes desire was to be thorough, making countless interviews and sifting through thousands of pages of documentary evidence. Those of us who offered our stories as part of this historical epitaph to the Gudgeon and the real heroes who were lost on her seek nothing but the opportunity to have the truth known and recorded in history. Our sole reward is to see the real story of submariners told in its entirety. We feel society owes us this much.