On June 26, 1943, the submarine USS Jack prowled the waters off Japan on her first war patrol. She was young, aggressive, and her crew carried a dangerous confidence. That morning, Jack struck hard, firing a spread of torpedoes into a convoy and sending two ships to the bottom. The crew was elated, convinced they had the war figured out.

But in the shadow of victory came disaster. A Japanese bomber swooped down and dropped a depth charge so close it blew Jack’s stern clear out of the water, wrecked her diving planes, and sent her plunging out of control. In that moment of chaos, with the submarine seconds from destruction, Torpedoman’s Mate Chief Sylvest Kohut fought to free the jammed controls and helped save the boat.

It was a narrow escape, a hard-earned lesson that in war it is always the unexpected that can kill you.

In September of 1921, San Pedro Harbor was the bustling new home of the Pacific Fleet. Battleships filled the anchorage, destroyers patrolled the coast, and tied to the tender USS Camden was the small submarine USS R-6. She was a product of the pigboat era, a generation of submarines built during World War I that were experimental, cramped, and dangerous. On the night of September 26, her crew worked late into the evening preparing exercise torpedoes for the next day’s practice. What began as routine training turned into disaster when seawater suddenly surged into the forward torpedo room. Within minutes, R-6 was gone, resting upright on the harbor floor in just thirty five feet of water. Two men were lost, their names carried forward in submarine memory. This is the story of tragedy, recovery, and resilience in the early years of the United States Submarine Force.

In September of 1942 the submarine USS Sargo left Fremantle on her fifth war patrol, a mission that would take her deep into enemy waters of the South China Sea. For nearly a month she stalked empty horizons, her crew wrestling with leaking exhaust valves and the constant threat of discovery. Then came September 25, when Sargo fired at a Japanese freighter and nearly paid with her own life when one torpedo turned in a deadly circle. The target was finished with gunfire, but the victory was followed by twenty two hours of depth charge attacks that tested every man aboard.

Back in Ava, Missouri, Fireman Second Class E. E. Hutchinson’s mother worried whether her son was even receiving the hometown newspapers she faithfully sent. In time she learned he was, and that he was glad to get them. This is the story of USS Sargo’s fifth patrol.