In fact, read Young’s memoir first. Life is a messy thing. One never knows whether a movie, a history, a biography, or an autobiography will strike first, generating interest in a subject. However, in a perfect world, our understanding of the past would come first from primary documents written by people who experienced the time. This would be followed by biographies and histories by professional historians, then by well-researched historical novels and, finally, TV and movies. It is frightening how many young peoples’ entire knowledge of history comes from the screen.
Of
course, television and movies have their place.
Documentaries like The Civil War
and movies like Das Boot, Schindler’s
List, and Platoon add color and
flavor to our mental landscape of history, but the framework of our
understanding should be primary documents.
Time alters our view of the past, and historians can recover what was
lost and synthesize what can be the narrow view of experience. Moviemakers can take the dull remembrances of
observers and mold them into an artistic statement the masses can care
about. Still, we take serious risks when
we stray too far from the observations of one who was there. We must always be willing to read a memoir
like One of Our Submarines.
 |
| One of Our Submarines by Edward Young (First Penguin Edition, 1954) |
A
little back story on Mr. Young: he comes from the world of publishing. He is, in fact, remembered for being the
publishing manager at Penguin Books when it started in 1935. It was he who designed the famous striped covers
and drew the Penguin that is the emblem of the company. And, like many men of his age and era, when
the Second World War got underway, he abandoned what was a very successful
career and joined the military. In his
case, he joined the Royal Navy Volunteer Reserve (R.N.V.R.). Four months after joining up, he volunteered for
the submarine service. It is here that
his memoir begins.
There
are many things to like about a story like this. What is most impressive is actually what
might seem least likely: the non-battle material. In the first section of the book there is
hardly an engagement with the enemy. We
first get taken through what it’s like to train on a submarine, what the duties
of the various men are, and what living on a submarine is like. It’s easy to forget in the clear memory of a submarine
battle scene from a movie that dozens of men spent weeks and months at a time
living in these cramped spaces underwater.
It could take weeks or more simply to sail to the patrol area. Then, on patrol, it often happened that a
submarine wouldn’t even come across a good target before having to turn around
and sail back to base. Mr. Young doesn’t
try to hide these facts. He merely tells
us of his honest experience.
Over
the course of a couple years, Mr. Young is promoted to First Lieutenant (“Number
One”), and is ultimately offered command of his own submarine, H.M. Submarine “Storm”. We then get to see the process of a submarine
under construction. We get to see how
Mr. Young gathers his crew and gets to know his ship. We get to share his excitement as he takes
her out for the first time and shakes her down.
Mr.
Young deserves commendation, too, for not trying to hide mistakes. He discusses the difficulties of being in
command. There are problems of
navigation. There are problems of
choosing targets. There are problems of
deciding whether or not to fire one of the tiny supply of torpedoes. After a hit, there are problems of choosing
to take prisoners or not. (Where does
one keep prisoners on a submarine?) Not
to mention that even basic commands can lead to disaster. For example, diving before making sure the
deck is clear. It’s a challenging thing.
After
a trip to Gibraltar and brief work in the Mediterranean, most of the last part
of the book takes place during patrols in Southeast Asia. Here we get most of the action. Storm does good service—taking out some
targets while occasionally having to hide from submarine chasers. There is plenty of well-written tension of
the sound of depth charges and the firing of torpedoes.
If
there is a flaw in the book, it is how suddenly it comes to an end. At the beginning of 1945, Mr. Young’s
submarine heads for home and, at that point, he quickly makes an end to his
story. There’s little reflection; merely
a list of crew and commendations. Still,
the story itself tells us so much about wartime submarine experience that
perhaps the desire for reflection is overkill.
It is our engagement with this commander that instills the desire to
know more about him. This memoir is
clearly bracketed by Mr. Young’s wartime service. We learn no more about him, and we want to
know more. But this is a book about
submarines and, for that, it is a success.
Until
Next Book…
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