“What about us officers, though?” Stan wondered. “Maybe there’s a chance we’ll go on the same sub.”
“Maybe,” March agreed. “They may put two new officers on a sub with three or four veterans. Probably no more, though. Look, here comes the Chief!”
In a few minutes they were all walking down toward the docks where the old O-type submarines used as trainers lay bobbing gently in the waters of the Thames River. March saw that some of the crew were busy about the deck of one of the subs, to which a narrow gangplank led from the dock. As they walked, the Chief Petty Officer was talking to the students.
“When it’s in the water,” he said, “you can’t see much of a sub. The flat deck is just a superstructure built up on top of the cigar-shaped hull. You can see part of the hull itself where the superstructure sides slope down into it. But most of it’s under water, where it ought to be on a pigboat.”
March’s eyes were going over the long slim craft swiftly, not missing a detail. He saw the fins on the side at bow and stern, folded back now, but able to be extended so as to make the planes which could guide the ship up or down. He noted the looming conning tower which served as a bridge for the officers when the pigboat traveled on the surface. From there, he knew, a hatch led down into the center section of the ship. He saw, too, that the fore and aft hatches were open, one leading down into the torpedo room and another into the engine room.
“Look at the deck gun,” Stan said. “Wicked looking little thing.”
They Watched From the Dock
He pointed to the 3-inch gun mounted on the flat deck forward of the conning tower. It was tightly covered with what appeared to be a canvas cover. March knew that the crew could have that cover off and the gun in action in a matter of seconds.
March and Stan walked across the gangplank and looked up at the officer on the bridge of the conning tower. Saluting, they reported, and received a welcoming smile and the words, “Come on up!”