Don Keith - Torpedo Run: The Story of WWII Submarine Hero Eugene B. Fluckey

Only the Brave

Arabian Storm

Cuban Deep

Fast Attack

Hunter Killer

The Indestructible Man

Dream On

Dial Dancing

Dangerous Grounds

The Ship That Wouldnt Die

The Amateur Radio Dictionary

Get on the Air... Now!

Mattie C.s Boy

The Spin

Firing Point

Riding the Shortwaves

Undersea Warrior

On the Road to Kingdom Come

We Be Big

War Beneath the Waves

The Ice Diaries

Final Patrol

The Bear

In the Course of Duty

Gallant Lady

Final Bearing

The Forever Season

The skipper of the submarine USS Barb (SS-220) had no intention of accepting his Medal of Honor. Commander Eugene B. Fluckey was honored that he had been recommended for his countrys highest award for bravery. Yes, he was proud that the request had been approved by men who knew how difficult the job was. Proud because it would bring tribute and attention to his crew and their considerable accomplishments. But there was a long list of reasonsa thick file of them that Fluckey kept in his briefcase to show to anyone who matteredwhy he would not mind being the first recipient in the history of the medal to refuse to accept it.

First, Fluckey firmly believed that such a solemn recognition should be reserved only for those who died in defense of their country. Though things had gotten very tense at times during Barbs eleventh World War II patrol, Fluckey was still breathing. And the captains personal favorite bragging point was still valid. Despite the furious action she had faced in his first four patrols as the submarines skipper, not a single crewmember had suffered a serious injury. Not one man had earned a different medal, a Purple Heart, for having been wounded in combat.

No, Fluckey told his superiors, he would prefer receiving a fourth Navy Cross instead. There was a practical reason for that substitution. By tradition, that would allow him the privilege of nominating thirteen members of his crew for their own awards, including the Silver Star, the Bronze Star, and Letters of Commendation with Ribbons. So far, thanks to his previous three personal Navy Crosses while commanding Barb, he had seen that forty-three of his men received recognition for what they had done out there against a fanatical enemy. Those honors had been earned in submarines, the area of the military that already had the highest casualty rate of any in the war. The Medal of Honor, on the other hand, carried only the option for Fluckey to submit for acknowledgment a half dozen of his crew.

There were scheduling conflicts involved, too. President Roosevelt, who had already had several personal encounters with Fluckey and was an unabashed fan of the skipper, wanted to personally award the medal to him, and do it in a White House ceremony before a large contingent of press. It would be good for morale, both military and civilian. However, as it happened, the chief executive was too ill to do so during the time that Barbs skipper, with his sub at Mare Island, California, for refit, would be available. The plan was to delay the ceremony until mid-April 1945, which would take Fluckey away from the boat at a crucial time, while in the final stages of preparing for her next patrol. It would also require calling in his executive officer early from stateside leave, something Fluckey was reluctant to do.

There was another long-standing tradition associated with the honor that the skipper was determined to avoid. Anytime a living recipient was awarded the Medal of Honor, it was typical that he was not sent right back to combat duty. There were public relations opportunities to exploit. Morale visits to be made. War bond drives to support. And not being put back into harms way so quickly was seen as a reward for such gallant service.

Fluckey would not hear of that! He had big plans for his fifth patrol on Barb. By hook and crook, he had convinced the Navy to allow him to carry a rocket launcher and a supply of rockets. He intended to test his theories about the use of such a weapon from the deck of a submarine. He wanted to demonstrate how he could capitalize on the stealth of the sub, a vessel that could creep up to point-blank range, launch an attack on shore-based targets, then flee and dive. No other warship could do that. He had the perfect objective in mind already, too.

In addition, Fluckey had formulated another unusual method for an assault on a most unorthodox but enticing target. That radical idea he had not yet shared with anyone else, though. Not even his executive officer or crew.

As it happened, Eugene Fluckey was unable to trade his Medal of Honor for a fourth Navy Cross. He did manage, however, to negotiate his way back to the war, but only after going way up the chain of submarine command to do so. Admiral Charles Lockwood, commander of Submarine Force, US Pacific Fleet, had tentatively promised the skipper a fifth patrol. By this time in the war, sub skippers were being limited to only four runs without a break because of the stress of such duty. But Fluckey would be approved to make his fifth trip only if things went well with Barbs fourth patrol.

Things had gone very well on that run. Medal of Honorworthy. Lockwood sent Fluckey a personal message as the submarine was headed home. It said, in part: The all-time all-timer! Aggressive, tenacious, daring, unique, extremely injurious to the enemy. PS. Congratulations from all of us and the whole U.S.A.