With the equipment out of commission and his leave expired, Taylor transported the lung on a train back to the East Coast, where additional trials of both Browne’s and Lambertsen’s devices were scheduled to be conducted in the renowned natatorium at the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis, Maryland.
WEARING LAMBERTSEN’S LARU, Jack Taylor dove into the deep end of the natatorium pool. He and a comrade carefully carried limpet mines across the bottom of the pool, from one end to the other. They were vigorously testing the equipment, and before they could put it into use in combat situations, they had to determine precisely how long the rebreather would allow them to remain underwater, what were the best ways to maneuver while wearing the equipment, and the limitations of the device.
Extensive testing of the competing rebreathers went on through the winter and into the early spring. Eventually the OSS determined that the LARU was superior to Browne’s lung. However, Woolley also recognized the genius of Browne’s invention, valued his expertise, and attempted to enlist the pioneering diver on a full-time basis in OSS’s underwater swimmer program. Woolley estimated he needed at least six months of Browne’s time. But Browne was busy running DESCO, and his schedule didn’t permit him to work full time for the intelligence agency. As a compromise, the OSS requested and Browne accepted that he would consult on a part-time basis with Lambertsen.
THE MARITIME AUTHORITY and combat swimming took a huge leap forward when, on February 18, 1943, Donovan himself granted approval of an Underwater Swimmer Group (USG). Until this time the men of the Maritime Authority trained Special Operations men in maritime sabotage and boat handling; the USG were the first operators for this unit—and America’s first underwater combat swimmers.
At Annapolis, Jack Taylor was joined by the much younger Lieutenant Robert J. H. Duncan of the U.S. Naval Reserve, whom the OSS designated to help lead the organizational development and training efforts. A former swimming coach, Duncan was a tall, square-jawed, determined man with a thick crop of black hair and very strong opinions. Taylor and Duncan instructed the OSS’s combat swimmers; five swimmers were split into two groups, with Taylor and Duncan each taking command of a unit. Three other men were part of the initial group: Gunner’s Mate Second Class John P. Spence and Gunner’s Mate Third Class Norman W. Wicker were both former Navy divers who had volunteered for the OSS. Jack’s fellow “beach rat,” Fred Wadley, who was designated “Operative #1,” rounded out the group.
The group had placed an order for twenty-five LARUs. During combat swimming training the five-man training team tested the equipment on a regular basis, usually in late afternoons. Getting adequate pool time and maintaining secrecy was incredibly difficult due to the hundreds of midshipmen vying for time in the natatorium. Working around the limited access to the pool, the men also engaged in other commando-like activities to prepare for their future missions. A typical day’s schedule read as follows:
8 a.m. Rifle range, armory, pistols
9 a.m. Rifles/carbines
10 a.m. Sailing/seamanship/knockabout (On Saturdays this was substituted with wrestling.)
11:30 a.m. Swimming
12:30 p.m. Noon hour (chow)
1:30 p.m. Boxing
2:30 p.m. Obstacle course
3:30 p.m. Swimming and lifesaving
4:30 p.m. Use of equipment in pool (On some days the pool would be freed up so the men could have a two-hour block in the pool)
5:30 p.m. Military drills and hand-to-hand combat on alternating days, sometimes with wrestling thrown in for good measure
As the training program launched into full swing, Duncan and Taylor obtained the support and cooperation of the Naval Academy’s Henry Ourtland, whom they recruited as a “coach and advisor” for $50 per week. “It is obvious how valuable his services are since he has served in a similar capacity for the Navy Dep,” wrote Duncan in a letter to Commander Woolley. The gung-ho lieutenant optimistically stated, “We will need four to six weeks training here and will have every facility, and we will be ready for the field at that time.”
Duncan then went on to propose a novel, some would say hare-brained concept: the “Aqua-Marines.” Duncan saw the Aqua-Marines as a “specially trained force of men . . . created for the purpose of [pre-invasion] work.” Essentially Duncan believed a team of swimmers could sneak onto enemy beaches and soften up the enemy before the main force arrived. In order to minimize losses he proposed towing “submarine rafts” to coastal areas prior to attack: “From these submarine rafts . . . the men can be disgorged from the rafts twenty feet beneath the surface of the water.” Once in the water the men would float to shore on “surf boards whose decks are flush with the water,” and these boards would also transport “machine guns and trench mortars.”
From there, Duncan’s imagination really got carried away, and he proposed that “the boards can be enlarged to accommodate five men and complete equipment with sail and auxiliary electric motor. Another added attraction of the paddle board is that it has many air chambers enabling the operator to deflate several chambers and submerge the board and carry out operations. After leaving the beach and returning to the board it can be re-inflated through the use of carbon dioxide chambers.” He even believed these surfboards could tow floating mines into the harbors and concluded, “There is no question but what a beach-head could be established without arousing the fire of defensive fortifications. . . . Locations and obstructions to harbors could be easily blown apart without telegraphing the approach of surface vessels which were still miles at sea.”
The entire concept didn’t sit well with Jack Taylor, who told Duncan, “In general, I can see no advantage to the submarine rafts nor to disgorging the men from twenty feet beneath the surface. For ferrying operations, I can see no advantage of paddleboards over folbots and the disadvantage that the operator and equipment will be wet when arriving at the beach.” Although he did see using the surfboards to transport underwater combat teams, he could not “visualize armed boards and forced landings from boards.” Eventually the Navy SEALs did utilize underwater submersible craft—not to lead an invasion, but for covert work.
But not all of Duncan’s ideas were pie in the sky. In fact, it was Duncan who advocated the importance of the combat swimmers working in teams, which is also a practice today’s SEALs utilize. Likely smarting from Taylor’s rebuke on the Aqua-Marine concept, Duncan admonished Taylor, “With reference to our recent conversation, I cannot emphasize too much the importance of requesting a team instead of individuals when there is a need for a diving unit in a particular area. A team is composed of six men who work in pairs. They each understand the other’s characteristics and ability.” Duncan recognized the inherently dangerous nature of combat swimming, stating, “It is easy to visualize the many hazardous possibilities which may eliminate two men on any one assignment.” Both Taylor and Duncan were highly invested in the nascent combat swimming program, and each of them had definite opinions. A rift began to grow between the two men, and they found themselves frequently at odds over the development of the program and the training of the swimmers.
DUE TO THEIR LIMITED access to the Annapolis pool, Taylor and Duncan moved the combat swim training to the indoor pool of the posh Ambassador Hotel in Washington, D.C. But for more realistic training, the group swam in the grimy waters of the Potomac at Area D.
The OSS ordered Duncan, Spence, Wicker, Wadley, and a Marine named Charles N. Koulias to engage in high-level training and hone their maritime intelligence gathering and sabotage skills at Area D. Most of the men received good marks. Lieutenant Duncan, for instance, was described as “a good man, extremely well versed in small boat craft. Most cooperative and anxious to take in the entire course, including all the hardships that go with it. Navigation and such subjects were new to him, and naturally, he was not as proficient as some of the class who were old hands at the game.”
Wadley’s report was similar: “A very good man. Knows small boating extremely well. Tries extremely hard
and learns better and faster than the average.”
July 27 through August 7, 1943, proved ideal for the swimmers. There was no moon and “enough wind to make small waves on the beach, which in turn made enough noise to deaden the noise of approaching folbots.” Taylor and Duncan devised simulated limpet attacks against mock German freighters—using the Marsyl, of course. All the men passed the training at Area D and would go on to form the core leadership of the swimmer program, but Koulias chose to stay behind at Area D rather than continue as a swimmer.
AS THE TRAINING PROGRESSED, the OSS developed a number of specialized and innovative pieces of equipment. Going back to the Ohio Chemical and Manufacturing Company, which had fabricated the rebreather, the OSS designed an inflatable surfboard that ran silently on a battery-powered motor. The board could plow through the waves and accommodate two men or a total of eighteen hundred pounds of equipment, grenades, and ammunition. The “boat” had a cruising speed of five knots and a maximum range of fifteen miles. But its low silhouette allowed men to approach ships at anchor covertly and to land operatives. Commander Woolley was extremely keen on the use of these devices, which could be rolled up into a small portable size when not inflated. “I believe that great use can be made of surfboards,” he stated, “especially for landing through surf which cannot be crossed by any type of boat without serious danger.” Woolley further explained, “The inflatable surfboard . . . will roll into a small package and weigh very little.” At the conclusion of the trials the OSS contracted with the Ohio Chemical and Manufacturing Company to make two full-size prototype boards at a total cost of $500.
To protect the men’s bodies from hypothermia in the cold waters of the Potomac, the OSS developed and enhanced a wetsuit. One of the first swimmers to wear the suit was John P. Spence, who fondly recalled how the term “frogmen” may have come about. He was climbing out of the water one day in his green waterproof suit when someone yelled, “Hey Frogman,” and the name “stuck for all of us.”
The OSS had also developed a number of kayaks, including two- and eight-man versions that could be broken down and quickly assembled on the deck of a submarine or small boat. In addition they began experimenting with underwater submersible craft, something today’s SEALs often use when they exit submarines to conduct covert operations. The OSS first took a look at an invention known as “the Toy.” During the summer of 1943 a Frenchman named Jean de Valdène contacted the agency about a one-man submersible that he had designed. Both the British Navy and the Italians had constructed underwater submersibles that their combat swimmers utilized. Made of balsa wood in the “shape of a large cigar,” Valdène’s Toy was “steadied by horizontal and vertical fins.” Like the surfboard, it was powered by a silent electric motor, and it could achieve a speed of six knots underwater.
Commander Woolley immediately saw the possibilities that the Toy offered his swimmers: the ability to enter enemy ports covertly and attach limpet mines to ships. He convinced Donovan to earmark $1,000 for the project. But a string of unfortunate events plagued the development of the device. They trucked a mock-up of the Toy to Area D on July 20. There Duncan and the swimmers participated in tests with the submersible. The craft dipped a few feet beneath the murky Potomac, but once again the dirt and pollution got in the way of finalizing the test. So the Toy was “transferred in great secrecy” to the David Taylor Model Basin at Glen Echo, Maryland, a large U.S. Navy facility used to test ships and smaller craft.
Ultimately, the Toy proved to be a flop. In final tests in January 1944, the electric motors broke down repeatedly and “other flaws developed.” They abandoned the project and later replaced it with another submersible known as the “Sleeping Beauty.”
Over the spring and summer of 1943, development of underwater gear proceeded at a breakneck pace: wristwatches with luminous dials, depth gauges, a waterproof swimsuit, and swim fins (“both hand and foot”). The Ohio Chemical and Manufacturing Company once again provided its expertise in manufacturing waterproof flashlights and underwater containers as well as other equipment that would allow swimmers to transport explosive devices without detection. The OSS accordingly created and tested limpet mines that the swimmers could affix magnetically to the metal hulls of enemy ships and then detonate.
But the polluted Potomac once again became a problem. At one LARU trial, Taylor swam for more than a mile in the river. Visibility was terrible, making the test difficult. Moreover, in combat, either in the Pacific or near Europe, the swimmers and equipment would be in saltwater, and it was unknown how well the unit would perform in the sea. They needed clear water—clear ocean water—to conduct realistic tests. Duncan proposed that they take the team to Florida.
THE SUMMER OF 1943 BROUGHT great change to the “Maritime Activity,” as it was known. Some called it the “Marine Section,” leading to confusion that it was associated somehow with the Marine Corps. But General Order Number 9, issued by General Donovan, clarified and effectively led to the establishment of the Maritime Unit as a full branch within the OSS. Instead of training agents and operators for the special operations branch of the OSS, the Maritime Unit was gaining its own independence as an organization. “The significance of the order was for the first time the Maritime Unit had authority to send its own personnel into the field,” recalled an officer within the unit. Prior to that, the Maritime Activity was relegated to just training OSS personnel from other branches. This would lead to a drastic enlargement of the unit’s activities, including the establishment of field stations overseas in far-flung outposts around the world, such as Burma and Egypt.
Lieutenant Taylor was by nature a patriot and a man of action. Eager to enter the war, he asked to be one of the first Maritime Unit officers to deploy overseas. Taylor, determined to obtain an assignment in the field, made it clear to the OSS that “if he was not deployed overseas he would request a transfer back to the U.S. Navy.” Woolley and the OSS placed tremendous value on Taylor and approved his request. But before heading into the field, OSS’s fledgling combat swimmers headed south to Florida for additional training.
5
SILVER SPRINGS
IN THE FIRST WEEK OF SEPTEMBER 1943, Lieutenant Duncan and the underwater swimmer group departed Washington, D.C., aboard the Tamiami Champion, a fast, full-service passenger train also known as “The Champ.” The men were to undergo further amphibious warfare and diving training at a naval facility in Fort Pierce, Florida, where they would study demolition techniques, test the LARU in seawater, and make a demonstration film. A motion picture crew from the OSS would come down near the end of their time in Florida. Their film would demonstrate the Maritime Unit’s capabilities to the theater commanders and serve as a training film for future OSS swimmer recruits.
Nearly twenty-four hours after leaving Union Station, the men arrived at Fort Pierce, where they proceeded to the Navy’s amphibious training school on a small, secluded isle off the Atlantic coast. The training school had been up and running since June, but the facilities were Spartan. When the first groups of trainees arrived, the camp had no buildings. For shelter they pitched tents on the sand, right on top of the sand fleas, whose bites left itchy welts. Later recruits enjoyed the “luxury” of wooden floors and sides for the tents, but the conditions remained tough. The heat was oppressive, and mosquitoes and flies constantly swarmed the men. With no mess hall to prepare meals, the food was consistently subpar. To top it off, the training was extremely rigorous, with the instructors putting the men through workouts and drills eight to twelve hours per day—the origins of what the SEALs now call Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL (BUD/S) training.
Duncan reported to Lieutenant Commander Draper Kauffman, who led the facility and training program. A pioneer of Navy demolitions, Kauffman later participated in numerous amphibious assaults in the Pacific. But Kauffman was an unusual choice to lead the school that would train the Navy’s underwater demolitions team. He had graduated from the Naval Academy but hadn’t received a commission be
cause of his poor eyesight. Instead, he volunteered as a driver with France’s American Volunteers Ambulance Corps. Captured by the Germans, he spent time in a prison camp. In 1940 he served on a mine disposal team with the British Royal Navy Volunteer Reserve during the London Blitz before finally receiving a commission in the U.S. Naval Reserve in 1941. Although his experience with demolitions made him extremely qualified as an explosives instructor, Kauffman allegedly wasn’t particularly fond of the water. Many years later, OSS swimmer John Spence reportedly said, “I remember showing him the fins and face plate. This ‘Father of the Navy SEALs’ looked me square in the eye and said, ‘Swimming is not one of my favorite things!’”
Duncan and his OSS swimmers introduced Kauffman to their latest equipment, which was far ahead of anything he and his men possessed. They demonstrated the Lambertsen unit and “exchanged ideas with Commander Kauffman as regards to the use of underwater equipment.” Duncan also trotted out the innovative surfboard the OSS developed. The groundbreaking OSS technology initially awed the Navy and Kauffman. “Every man [present] was enthusiastic about its potential use,” recalled Duncan. At the time the Navy was using only face masks and no fins (they often swam in sneakers) and had nothing remotely comparable to the Lambertsen rebreather. The LARU signaled a new era in underwater diving technology that would render Kauffman’s practices obsolete and potentially threaten his command authority.
The next couple of days started out cordially. On September 12, Duncan’s group, along with Lieutenant Commander Kauffman and other Navy representatives, anchored off North Island and once again demonstrated their unique surfboard and the Lambertsen rebreathers. Even Kauffman tested the equipment underwater. The devices performed superbly, and afterward, the OSS men and Navy demolition trainees conducted a highly successful joint underwater exercise, with both groups using the rebreathers.
First SEALs Page 4