By Mike Klein, RMCS(SS), USN (Ret.)

I have to mention Admiral Rickover and the impact he had on the navy and the submarine force. Admiral Hyman Rickover was personally responsible for the development of the nuclear navy. The first nuclear powered ship, a submarine, the USS Nautilus (SSN-571) was commissioned on September 30, 1954. Two nuclear-powered surface ships followed: USS Long Beach (CGN-9) was commissioned September 9, 1961, and USS Enterprise (CVN-65) was commissioned November 25, 1961. Why do we need a nuclear navy? You don’t have to stop or interrupt the mission for refueling; for the submarine, nuclear power enabled the true submersible. No surfacing or snorkeling to run on the diesels and charge batteries for the next submerged excursion. You get underway, get out past the shallows, go deep, and then go anywhere in the world, as long as the food lasts. Some labeled the nuclear submarine Big and Black and don’t come back. We most always did come back, but we could have stayed longer if need be.

Most of us know about Rickover, at least to the extent that he affected our careers to varying degrees. He is known as the father of the nuclear navy, or, sarcastically, the kindly old gentleman. He started the Atomic Energy Commission (AEC). In 1949, Rickover promised to deliver the first nuclear powered submarine by January 1955, and he made it. There were nuclear reactors in ‘49, but none that would fit into a submarine. He made it happen. People can argue among themselves as to whether what he did for submarines and submarine warfare was a good thing or not.

Rickover personally interviewed all officer candidates for the nuclear power program, and his interviewing technique made officers sweat. It involved hard problem-solving questions that sailors found difficult to answer. Was he looking to see how much stress he could impose on them and to determine how they reacted under stress? I don’t know. If someone stumbled while trying to answer a question in the interview, chances were they were sent out of the office back to one of the admiral’s staff officers for regrouping and prepping for another shot. His staff was not exempt from verbal abuse or criticism, but he showed a softer side when staff family members were dealing with serious personal issues.

There must be hundreds of stories about Admiral Rickover. Here’s one told by a staff radioman at SUBSCOL. This guy had changed his rate from yeoman (YN). RMs were eligible for proficiency pay, but YNs were not. So, he saw an opportunity to get a wage increase. Anyway, when he was a yeoman, he was stationed in Washington on Admiral Rickover’s staff. The enlisted staff also doubled as duty driver on a rotational basis. One evening when he was duty driver, the radioman was called to drive Admiral Rickover to Dulles Airport. He got the car and pulled up in front of NAVSEA headquarters in Crystal City, Arlington, Virginia. He opened the door for the admiral and out of the building he came. Now, as the story goes, Rickover would always ride shotgun and never in the backseat of the car. He got in, said he was running late, and asked the radioman to hurry. Immediate pressure. The roads to Dulles were not high-speed thruways back then. There were intersecting streets and traffic signals. The radioman found himself racing from red light to red light. Take off from one light, make it a few blocks, and then brake for the next light.

After twenty minutes of Rickover’s constant urging for speed, the radioman was in a near panic. Finally, deciding not to run the upcoming red light, he slammed on the brakes. Rickover lurched forward, slammed his head against the dashboard, hesitated a second, and then slumped to the floor. The radioman saw his life flash before his eyes, as he thought, “I’ve killed Rickover.” He froze, his mind racing, trying to decide what to do. Then, before he could do anything, Rickover slowly rose up, and simply said, “Keep going. I’m all right.” The radioman had a hard time finishing the story. I asked what happened afterward. He said he worried that there would be some fallout from the situation, but there never was, even though he sweated through the next couple of months anytime he got near the admiral.

Here’s another one related by one of our stewards on the boomer. We were still finishing up construction at Electric Boat (EB). We still used berthing, messing, and office space on a barge at the yard, pending the move aboard the boat. Rickover showed up, wearing rumpled khakis and without a hat, and may or may not have had collar devices, that is, stars indicating his admiral rank. That would be my kind of guy if it had been the diesel navy, but it wasn’t. Almost everyone pooped his shorts when Rickover showed up or even threatened to show up aboard your boat. So, there was lots of scurrying and lots of “Yes, Admiral.” At one point the admiral wanted something to eat, and he was escorted up to the barge and what made do for a wardroom. The steward brought a cup of coffee and was about to ask what he could get for the admiral, but was cut off with a barrage of demands. Rickover wanted tea, a variety of fresh fruit, and a pastrami sandwich on rye. (When did we ever have pastrami or rye bread for that matter?) The steward listened patiently and then calmly told the admiral we had tea, none of the fruit, and he could bring him ham sandwich. Then he braced himself. The admiral looked up, and said, “Bring me what you have.” The steward replied, “Aye, Aye, Admiral.” And that was it. I think the takeaway from this story is that if you respond directly and respectfully, you’ll be okay. Whether it really happened this way, who knows? If that approach works with any aggressive and demanding people, is another thing. Either way, the steward was a pretty cool guy. The admiral was quite demanding, intimidating, and even berating, but some have said that if you didn’t cower and talked right back to him, he could become civil. Bottom line: Admiral Rickover, even with his foibles, is called the father of the nuclear navy and deservedly so.

Okay, just a couple more. In 1969 changes were made to the National Mall, including demolishing the building known as Main Navy, where Rickover had his office. He would be moving to new offices in Crystal City across the river in Virginia. The General Services Administration (GSA) was charged with the demolition and finding alternative offices for those displaced. The move was made, but right away the GSA heard from Rickover’s staff that the new office was not secure. The office was on an upper level floor that was set back from the floor below. The assertion was made that someone could gain access to the roof and then walk right up to the windows of Rickover’s office. GSA staff came up with a plan to build a brick wall around the windows at an estimated cost of $50,000. They met with Rickover to get the nod to proceed with the plan. Rickover reportedly said, “If I don’t want anyone to look into my office, I will put the window blinds down.”