First SEALs (6 page)

Taylor, visiting his hometown of Santa Monica on personal leave, wanted to test Browne's lung in the open water of the Pacific Ocean. He had been a lifeguard stationed on these beautiful beaches throughout his high school years, during which time he broke numerous swimming records. Teeming with hard-core “beach rats,” Santa Monica was home to some of the most experienced ocean swimmers in the world. Many of them were ahead of their time, already donning swim fins and face masks as they swam in the often turbulent ocean. Eventually the OSS would return to recruit from this extraordinary pool of aquatic talent. Santa Monica
was also the perfect place for Jack to simulate a real underwater combat mission, which he knew would likely take place against Axis forces operating in the Pacific, the Atlantic, and/or the Mediterranean. The ocean testing was necessary to ascertain the durability of the device because the rebreather had not yet been used in saltwater, which could have corrosive effects on the equipment.

Continuing to act as a sort of guinea pig, Peterson next attempted to swim from a mile and a half out in open water back to the Santa Monica beach. But just as he was donning the breathing apparatus, “
the regulator in the oxygen line stuck, allowing the full charge of the cylinder (1,800 pounds) to go into the rubber connecting tube, causing it to burst.” The equipment malfunction spelled the end of the trial.

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.

W
EARING
L
AMBERTSEN'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.

T
HE
M
ARITIME
A
UTHORITY
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.

D
UE 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.