dChan - Q Origins Project Archive

You could hear the wolves searching for you with their probing pings of the sonar. Ping… ping… and you could hear the sound of the screws coming closer…(Have they spotted us?)…ping… ping… the churning screws recede. (Don’t breathe… don’t move…) Then another destroyer approaches. (Is that another one or did he turn around?)… You hear a splash as the destroyer throws his depth charge in the water, in this case a harmless explosive. BAM! it goes off and my ears explode in the earphones… The sub begins to twist and turn to shake off its pursers. But still the Pinging follows you…

When we ran silent for some time on battery, the oxygen would get low, and you could tell because the match lighting your cigarette would go out. Everything would begin to sweat: drops of water on the pipes, and its began to get cold and still like a corpse that was still moving.

Lying in your bunk (mine was close to the hull above the torpedoes) you could feel the vast ocean that has buried you in its deep bosom. We called the sub a steel coffin.

…'

http://tokillaminotaur.com/zen-fits/run-silent-run-deep-my-life-on-a-submarine/

>>11207151

'…

When we ran silent for some time on battery, the oxygen would get low, and you could tell because the match lighting your cigarette would go out. Everything would begin to sweat: drops of water on the pipes, and its began to get cold and still like a corpse that was still moving.

Lying in your bunk (mine was close to the hull above the torpedoes) you could feel the vast ocean that has buried you in its deep bosom. We called the sub a steel coffin.

I have always felt that my three and a half years in the Silent Service was a living metaphor for my life as a meditator who, like a frog is at home on the surface and beneath the surface of water of consciousness. The submarine knows both, while the surface ships only know the surface —and where I roam is death to them.

My father was a naval officer, but when I joined the navy—as a last resort really because I had no place to go with my life— I chose the submarines because my father was an office in the surface navy and I wanted to discover my own ocean, and why not one beneath my father where he couldn’t find me. There I could be my own man.

…'