Integrity

          Today I was thinking about an individual who I have little respect for. His identity is irrelevant, because that is not the subject I want to write about. While thinking of this person I thought about why I have such a lack of respect for him, and I came to the conclusion it’s because of integrity issues. Basically I don’t trust him. While thinking about it, I started thinking about a person I knew many years ago, who taught me a lesson about integrity that I still carry with me today.

            
          Throughout my life I have known a handful of individuals who have taught me life lessons and other truths that have shaped who and what I have become. Men who I respect, admire and try to emulate, hoping that I have become half the man who they are.  My father is one of these individuals. He taught me the value of loyalty, of hard work and many other things that I am still realizing to this day. Another is a full blooded Ogallala Sioux named Al Kitto who taught me so many things that I still consider him a second father. There are others; the Engineering Officer on my first submarine named C.J Ihrig, a Nazarene General Superintendent named James Bond, a campground owner named Maurice Dettman. Of course there have been many other individuals who I respect and admire, good men, and good women (yes, respect is not gender specific), but the person I want to talk about now was the Captain of the second submarine I served on while I was in the Navy, the USS Georgia.

            
            I went to the Georgia in January of 1982, after serving on board the USS Tunny, a fast attack submarine out of Pearl Harbor, Hawaii.  At the time the Georgia was in new construction, a fleet ballistic missile, Trident submarine, being built in the Electric Boat Shipyard in Groton, Ct.  When a submarine is being built, the first crew members to man it are the ‘nukes’, the guys who went through Naval Nuclear Power Training and go to the fleet to operate the nuclear engineering spaces of submarines and nuclear powered surface vessels. Most of us were what was considered ‘Sea Returnees’, guys who had been to sea on other submarines, however there were a handful of younger guys who came straight out of Naval Nuclear Prototype training and had never been to sea. To even get to the fleet as a nuclear power operator is an impressive feat, at least it was at the time. I know when I got out of the Navy in 1989 the requirements were getting a little more relaxed. I think there were several reasons for this, but probably the most important is that by that time Admiral Hyman Rickover had stepped down as the head of the Navy’s Nuclear Power program for several years, and the standards were beginning to loosen a bit. This plus the collapse of the Soviet Union and the cessation of the cold war had lessened the demand for submarines and crews to operate them, therefore cutting the budget for training individuals. I cannot speak about the Navy’s nuclear power program today because I have been out since 1989, however to give you an example by what I mean when I say it was an impressive feat let me tell you about my Nuclear Power School Class, class 7801. We started out with about 400 individuals in our class. By the time we graduated from Nuclear Power School, after 8 months of intensive study in mathematics, physics, thermodynamics, chemistry, etc., we had about 200 people left. Then after another 4 months of qualifying on an operating nuclear reactor at one of the Navy’s Nuclear Prototype facilities, there were a little over a hundred of us left who actually made it to the fleet.

          When I reported on board the Georgia, the Commanding Officer was a man named Arland W. Kuester. He was a full bird Captain, which was unusual in the submarine fleet, as most ship captains held the rank of Commander or Lieutenant Commander. At the time the Trident Submarine was the newest and most sophisticated, expensive weapon mankind had ever produced. With a capability of deploying 24 nuclear missiles, each with eight multiple warheads, it was also the most destructive weapon ever created. I think this went into the thought process when the Navy decided to place full bird Captains as commanding officers. Later when I taught at the S8G Naval Prototype from 1985 to 1989, I would teach engineering systems at the Trident Design School for Prospective Commanding Officers of Trident Submarines, so I know what special individuals they are. Captain Kuester was also a bit older than most submarine commanders at the time, so this took some getting used to by us ‘sea returnees’. Most submarine commanders were young, aggressive, energetic individuals who worked hard, played hard and commanded the respect of the crew through leadership by example. Captain Kuester was a hard task master, he also demanded a much stricter adherence to traditional naval regulations than most of us were used to. Typically the submarine community wasn't big on regulations, like I said it was a work hard, play hard kind of attitude, and as long as the work got done, regulations weren't high on the priority list. So to get to the point, Captain Kuester wasn't  the  most popular commanding officer with many individuals on board the Georgia. He expected a lot from his crew, but he was fair, and no one worked harder or sacrificed more than he did. He was usually the first to arrive and last to leave.

            
          The first thing the crew does when it gets there, is start testing the engineering systems. When Electric Boat constructs submarines it does so in sections. They had this amazing system where they would start in the aft part of the ship and build the ship in 10 ft sections. When they would build a section, everything that went into that section, pipes, pumps, valves, etc would be put in place, then they’d bring the hull sections together and weld them up, and so on, until the entire engineering spaces were complete. So when we got there the engineering spaces were basically completed. We then began inspecting systems, filling them, testing them, etc. It was a lot of hard work and many long hours. We had gotten to the point in the ship’s life where we had tested, filled and vented and operated most of the reactor support systems and we had pumps running so we started having duty days and standing traditional 6 hour watches in the engineering spaces. The Reactor Core had not been installed at this point so there really was no danger to the public if something broke down. Basically we were babysitting. As equipment began to be placed in service, different parameters were incorporated into the logs taken by the watch stander, called the Shutdown Roving Watch who would write them down every hour on the logs. One of the systems operating was a system called Reactor Plant Fresh Water. When the reactor core is installed and the Reactor Coolant Pumps are operating this system is one of the most vital systems on the ship. It provides cooling water for the Reactor Coolant Pumps and Control Rod Drive Mechanisms and a few other pieces of vital equipment and is very, very important. However, like I said, the reactor core had not been installed yet, neither had the Reactor Coolant Pumps or the CRDMs. The only reason this system was operating was so test data could be taken on it during the normal daytime hours, when the Electric Boat engineers were around. At night there was no reason for it to run, and losing it was not a big deal. My duty section had duty, which meant we stayed on the ship for 24 hours, in a little make-shift bunk room they had constructed for us in the Missile Compartment, and tried to sleep when we weren't on watch, as the Electric Boat workers ran their chipping hammers and other noise making devices throughout the forward part of the ship. Basically, when you had duty, you were up the entire 24 hours whether you had watch or not.  This young, third class petty officer named Bob (can’t remember his last name), had the six hour watch from midnight to 6 am. One of the log readings he was supposed to take every hour, was the Reactor Plant Fresh Water System Expansion Tank Level. This is the high point of that system I talked about earlier, it’s a big tank where water can be added to the system as required, and where you can monitor the level to make sure there are no leaks or other problems with the system. To get to the place where you had to take the tank level you had to climb up a ladder, where there was a platform with the tank sight glass. Climbing the ladder could wear you out, especially when you’d been up for 24 hours and you knew there were no real consequences if the system crashed. Bob was one of those younger guys, who came to the ship right from prototype training. Around 6 am I went back to the Engine Room to help clean up and make sure everything was ready to turn over to the oncoming duty shift. As I walked past maneuvering an alarm began going off, it was the Reactor Plant Fresh Water Expansion Tank low level alarm! I and another guy who had just come aft quickly climbed the ladder to check the tank and sure enough, the level was at the low level alarm set point and dropping very slowly. Under operating conditions this would be a big deal, but because the system really wasn't doing anything, the only thing to worry about was getting the level so low that the Reactor Plant Fresh Water Pumps began to cavitate and were damaged. So after confirming with the Engineering Duty Officer (EDO), I went down and turned off the pumps.

            In Naval Nuclear Power, and civilian nuclear power for that matter, nothing is simply taken care of and forgotten about. There is always an investigation, there are always questions asked, and consequences for inappropriate behavior. So an investigation was launched as to why the tank level dropped to the low level alarm. This is an important system, and if there is a problem it had to be worked out before the reactor core could be installed. Subsequently it was discovered that there was a minor leak in one of the pipes that ran through the bilge area adjacent to the Reactor Compartment, was which wasn’t visible unless you were looking for a leak.  The Engineers did their calculations and figured that based on the leak size, the Expansion Tank would have lost about an inch an hour. So naturally the next question was how come the Shut Down Roving Watch hadn’t noticed the level dropping. They looked at Bob’s logs and guess what? According to his logs the level hadn’t dropped one inch since the guy he relieved had taken the reading. To make matters worse, or better for the guy who Bob relieved, depending on how you looked at it, the level Bob logged was almost exactly 6 inches above the low level alarm set point.  I think you can see where this is going. It was pretty obvious that Bob hadn’t climbed up that ladder to actually look at the level of the expansion tank.

            Bob was no longer allowed to stand watch or do other tasks in the engineering spaces awaiting a Captain’s Mast. A Captain’s Mast is where you throw yourself on the mercy of the Captain. You waive your right to a court martial and agree to accept whatever punishment the Captain deems appropriate. Normally a Captain’s Mast is less severe than a court martial. It is also less consequential as far as long-term legal ramifications. If you are found guilty in a court martial then it is something that stays with your record, even after you leave the military. A Captain’s Mast on the other hand is not quite so severe. You do your punishment and that’s the end of it.  We all knew Bob was going to get some kind of punishment, we figured maybe he’d have to go through some kind of re-qualification, restriction of some type. Because of the fact that there were no real consequences from his actions, most of us felt that the punishment would be minor, a slap on the wrist. The sea returnees in the group had all known people who had made mistakes in the program. Some of us were guilty ourselves of making an error or two. There have been people who have turned the wrong valves, operated the wrong switch, tripped the reactor out at power, etc. Compared to these mistakes what Bob did seemed very minor. What happened kind of shocked us. After Captain’s Mast with Captain Kuester, Bob was removed from the nuclear power program, reduced in rank to seaman, and transferred immediately off the Georgia! Like I said, most of us, including the Senior Chief Petty Officer who went into the Mast with Bob, were not prepared for such a harsh judgement. To understand the consequences of something like this you have to remember what it took for somebody like Bob to even get to the fleet as a nuclear power operator. At the time, if you made it to the fleet as a nuclear power operator, as long as you maintained a good record during your time in the Navy, you were pretty much assured of getting out and making very good money in the commercial power industry. Now, not only would Bob have to spend the rest of his time in the Navy scrubbing decks, he would also have very little chance of obtaining one of those high paying commercial power jobs. To put it mildly, the mood of the crew was very dark and somber after that.

            About a week after Bob’s Captain’s Mast I was standing watch in the Engineering Spaces. It was late, the ship yard workers had all gone home for the day, and it was basically myself and the Maneuvering Area Watch in the Engine Room. As I was walking around taking my readings, a person slowly walked up to me. When I looked up I saw that it was Captain Kuester. “Good evening, Petty Officer Rhoads” he said to me. “Good evening, Sir” I replied. After a couple minutes of small talk, he got to the subject that I think he really wanted to talk about all along. He began to talk about Bob (he didn't call him Bob, he called him Petty Officer whatever his last name was) and the results of his punishment. He asked me how the crew felt about that, and I told him that most weren't very happy about it. That most felt the punishment didn't fit the crime. He then asked me how I felt about it, and I told him I wasn't sure how to feel. Then he said something to me that has stayed with me all my life. He agreed that the consequences of what Bob had done were very minor. But, he said if a man makes a mistake then you can re-train him, or give him additional training so he doesn't make that mistake again. In fact he said, mistakes are some of the best teaching tools there are, that he would rather have somebody under his command who made mistakes and became better as a result, than someone who never made one until it really mattered. He said he hadn't based his judgement on the physical ramifications of Bob's behavior. That it was based on something much deeper than that, it was an integrity issue. Then he asked me “How do you teach somebody integrity? What kind of training can you do, what kind of remediation program can you come up with? I’m not sure integrity is something you can ever instill in a person, either they have it or they don’t.” He then added that he made his decision with the hope that someday Bob would understand the real consequences of his actions, learn from it and be a better man. Then he told me goodnight and left. I thought long and hard about what Captain Kuester had said, and came to the conclusion that he was right. That is why a person's integrity is so important.

I guess I’ll never know why Captain Kuester chose to speak one-on-one with me on this subject. I’d like to think it was because he viewed me as one of the leaders of the crew, and was hoping that through me, his message would slowly get conveyed. I think he also understood that as one of the senior people in Bob's duty section that I couldn't help but feel a bit of responsibility for what had happened to him, but I don’t know, that is only speculation. I know I never looked at the man the same after that. I would continue to serve under Captain Kuester for two more years, going through commissioning of the Georgia, and making the first patrol with the Blue Crew. During that time I came to appreciate what a hard working, dedicated man he truly was. He was, and always will remain, one of the most respected individuals I have ever known.