Roger C. Dunham
Spy Sub: A Top Secret Mission to the Bottom of the Pacific
Acknowledgments
The confidential nature of this project prevents credit to many people who are well deserving of tribute for their assistance. I received encouragement and help from several of my shipmates, and I am thankful for invaluable assistance from Chief Warrant Officer Sandy Harless, USN (Ret.); Captain C. E. Moore, USN (Ret.); and Senior Chief Petty Officer Gary Patterson, USN (Ret.). Sandy Munroe and Val Muth provided encouragement and helpful information used in developing the story. John P. Craven, Ph.D., provided details that were useful in many ways, and four individuals working with the Department of Defense, whose identities must remain unknown, provided valuable assistance and guidance. The long hours of editing by my wife, Keiko, helped me to resolve many technical matters. I also greatly appreciate the editorial assistance of Terry Belanger.
Richard Whiston, JD, provided generous assistance and availability during the challenges of manuscript development. The recounting of personal experiences by Max Brown, senior vice president, CaliforniaCare Health Plans, was helpful to certain important aspects of the manuscript. Joseph Lord and Alvina Lord gave me invaluable access to military channels for which I will always be appreciative. Historian Sue Lemmon, Mare Island Naval Shipyard; David Stumpf, Ph.D.; and FTB1(SS) Don Merrigan, USN (Ret.), provided encouragement and valuable technical assistance.
I am especially thankful to the men who served with me on board our submarine during the difficult times of the late 1960s: from "Mathews," who almost lost it all, to "Lane," who paid far too high a price, and from the men who taught me nuclear operations to those who learned them from me. These were the people who believed in our mission and made it successful. Like those currently dedicating their lives to our country, these men were the finest of our society. They brought a high degree of credit to the Submarine Service of the U.S. Navy. That I was privileged to serve as their shipmate was a great honor.
About the author
Roger C. Dunham, M.D., served in the Submarine Service as a nuclear reactor operator during the 1960s. Following honorable discharge from the U.S. Navy in 1969, he attended the University of Southern California, where he was elected president of the Premedical Honor Society. He graduated from the University of California, Los Angeles, School of Medicine in 1975.
Dr. Dunham practices full time as a board-certified specialist in internal medicine. He has served as chief of staff of a Southern California medical center for eight years and is currently the medical director of a multispecialty health care system. He is the author of two medical thrillers, Final Diagnosis and The Anthrax Diagnosis, and a screenplay, The Diagnosis.
Dr. Dunham and his wife, Keiko, have been married for twenty-eight years and have two children, Rochelle and Stephen.
This is a true story.
The mission of the USS Viperfish (not the submarine's real name) was top secret.
Technical modifications are employed to protect the intelligence interests of the U.S. Navy Submarine Service. The names of the crew are changed to preserve the privacy of the brave men who served in this elite branch of the Navy during the events chronicled in this story.
Prologue
The lady had become a widow long before her time.
Dressed in elegant attire appropriate for the formal gathering of United States and Russian government officials, she had been invited to the affair only because of the military stature of her late husband. This would be her last encounter with these officials; she knew there were no further ties between herself and those who planned such events.
She spotted the cluster of American naval officers standing at the far side of the room. Their dark uniforms were resplendent with gold braid that gave testimony to their rank. As she slowly approached them, their hushed conversation abruptly died and their expressions showed the polite and detached affect of diplomatic propriety. They turned to accommodate her presence, and she hesitated briefly before speaking.
Only a year before, her question would have been unthinkable, but improved relations and eased tensions between the two governments offered her promise of learning the truth.
Looking into their eyes as if searching for an answer, she took a deep breath before she spoke. Her English was nearly perfect, with little dialect to reveal her origin within the vast reaches of the former Soviet Union.
"Could you tell me what has happened to my husband?" The simple question seemed to burn through the air with a raging intensity. Her tone reflected the strength of feelings contained for many years.
"Your husband?" the tallest officer said after a pause. He was polite and showed the proper degree of interest.
"He was the captain of a submarine," she answered, her voice now carrying a trace of pride. "He was the commanding officer of the Soviet submarine PL-751, in the Pacific Ocean."
"The PL-751?" another officer asked, his voice mildly curious.
"You people called it an Echo submarine. My husband and the PL-751 never returned to Vladivostok."
Their expressions did not change, and they showed no indication of any knowledge about the matter placed before them. As each looked to another for an answer, the firm voice of the older man on the left answered for them all.
"I am sorry, but we do not know about this submarine or about your husband."
Gazing across the room, the officer saw several tuxedoed men standing near the hors d'oeuvres table. He gestured with his drink in their direction.
"Perhaps if you speak to the American Consulate, they will be able to assist you."
The officer noticed her eyes beginning to redden and a look of despair on her face. "I am truly sorry," he repeated with genuine feeling as she turned and walked away.
1. Reporting on board
In Moscow on the cold morning of 29 March 1966, the Twenty-Third Congress of the Soviet Communist Party convened at the Kremlin for the first time since the death of Nikita S. Khrushchev. In his inaugural speech before the five thousand delegates of the Communist Party's supreme ratifying body, First Secretary Leonid I. Brezhnev called for world Communist unity as he acknowledged the rapidly deteriorating relations with the United States. He protested the "bloody war by the United States against the people of South Vietnam" and called upon the Soviet military forces to continue their achievements in science and technology.
The delegates reviewed the Soviet report on military power that underscored the increasing size of their armed forces, including the Red Navy's impressive submarine fleet. They affirmed the strategy of maintaining 400 nuclear and conventional submarines in four major flotillas around the world, and they agreed to continue building their submarine fleet by 10 percent each year. The Pacific Fleet, second in size only to the massive Northern Fleet, contained 105 Soviet submarines. Many of these were of the lethal nuclear missile-carrying "E" (Echo) class that regularly patrolled the ocean waters east of Kamchatka Peninsula.
In contrast to this massive Soviet armada of submarine military power, the United States Navy possessed only 70 nuclear submarines; 41 of these vessels were designed to fire nuclear missiles and most of the others were fast-attack hunter/killer submarines. One of them, however, differed from all other submarines throughout the world.
In the spring of 1966 at the Pearl Harbor Naval Shipyard near Honolulu, Hawaii, civilian shipyard workers finished a year of intense refitting on board the nuclear submarine USS Viperfish (SSN 655). As the Twenty-Third Congress of the Soviet Communist Party adjourned its meeting on 8 April 1966, the U.S. Navy completed the process of gathering together a volunteer crew of 120 men to serve on board the Viperfish. This crew of submariners, civilian scientists, and nuclear systems operators began one of the most remarkable top secret military operations in the history of the United States.