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Via e-mail... Never heard this story before.
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> U.S.S. Barb: The Sub that Sank a Train
>
> In 1973 an Italian submarine named Enrique Tazzoli was sold for a paltry
>$100,000 as scrap metal. The submarine, given to the Italian Navy in
> 1953 was actually an incredible veteran of World War II service with a
>heritage that never should have passed so unnoticed into the graveyards of
>the metal recyclers. The U.S.S. Barb was a pioneer, paving the way for the
>first submarine launched missiles and flying a battle flag unlike that of
>any other ship. In addition to the Medal of Honor ribbon at the top of the
>flag identifying the heroism of its captain, Commander Eugene "Lucky"
>Fluckey, the bottom border of the flag bore the image of a Japanese
>locomotive. The U.S.S. Barb was indeed, the submarine that "SANK A TRAIN".
>
> July, 1945 (Guam) Fleet Admiral Chester Nimitz looked across the desk at
>Admiral Lockwood as he finished the personal briefing on U.S. war ships in
>the vicinity of the northern coastal areas of Hokkaido, Japan. "Well,
>Chester, there's only the Barb there, and probably no word until the patrol
>is finished. You remember Gene Fluckey?"
>
> "Of course. I recommended him for the Medal of Honor," Admiral Nimitz
>replied. "You surely pulled him from command after he received it?"
>
> July 18, 1945 (Patience Bay, Off the coast of Karafuto, Japan) It was
>after
> 4 A.M. and Commander Fluckey rubbed his eyes as he peered over the map
>spread before him. It was the twelfth war patrol of the Barb, the fifth
>under Commander Fluckey. He should have turned command over to another
>skipper after four patrols, but had managed to strike a deal with Admiral
>Lockwood to make one more trip with the men he cared for like a father,
>should his fourth patrol be successful. Of course, no one suspected when he
>had struck that deal prior to his fourth and what should have been his
>final war patrol on the Barb, that Commander Fluckey's success would be so
>great he would be awarded the Medal of Honor.
>
> Commander Fluckey smiled as he remembered that patrol. "Lucky" Fluckey
>they called him. On January 8th the Barb had emerged victorious from a
>running two-hour night battle after sinking a large enemy ammunition ship.
>Two weeks later in Mamkwan Harbor he found the "mother-lode"...more than
> 30 enemy ships. In only 5 fathoms (30 feet) of water his crew had
>unleashed the sub's forward torpedoes, then turned and fired four from the
>stern. As he pushed the Barb to the full limit of its speed through the
>dangerous waters in a daring withdrawal to the open sea, he recorded eight
>direct hits on six enemy ships. Then, on the return home he added yet
>another Japanese freighter to the tally for the Barb's eleventh patrol, a
>score that exceeded even the number of that patrol.
>
> What could possibly be left for the Commander to accomplish who, just
>three months earlier had been in Washington, DC to receive the Medal of
>Honor? He smiled to himself as he looked again at the map showing the rail
>line that ran along the enemy coast line. This final patrol had been
>promised as the Barb's "graduation patrol" and he and his crew had cooked
>up an unusual finale. Since the 8th of June they had harassed the enemy,
>destroying the enemy supplies and coastal fortifications with the first
>submarine launched rocket attacks. Now his crew was buzzing excitedly about
>bagging a train.
>
> The rail line itself wouldn't be a problem. A shore patrol could go
>ashore under cover of darkness to plant the explosives...one of the sub's
> 55-pound scuttling charges. But this early morning Lucky Fluckey and his
>officers were puzzling over how they could blow not only the rails, but one
>of the frequent trains that shuttled supplies to equip the Japanese war
>machine. Such a daring feat could handicap the enemy's war effort for
>several days, a week, perhaps even longer. It was a crazy idea, just the
>kind of operation "Lucky" Fluckey had become famous...or infamous...for.
>But no matter how crazy the idea might have sounded, the Barb's skipper
>would not risk the lives of his men. Thus the problem... how to detonate
>the charge at the moment the train passed, without endangering the life of
>a shore party. PROBLEM? Not on Commander Fluckey's ship. His philosophy had
>always been "We don't have problems, only solutions".
>
> 11:27 AM "Battle Stations!" No more time to seek solutions or to ponder
>blowing up a train. The approach of a Japanese freighter with a frigate
>escort demands traditional submarine warfare. By noon the frigate is laying
>on the ocean floor in pieces and the Barb is in danger of becoming the
>hunted.
>
> 6:07 PM Solutions! If you don't look for them, you'll never find them.
>And even then, sometimes they arrive in the most unusual fashion. Cruising
>slowly beneath the surface to evade the enemy plane now circling overhead,
>the monotony is broken with an exciting new idea. Instead of having a
>crewman on shore to trigger explosives to blow both rail and a passing
>train, why not let the train BLOW ITSELF up. Billy Hatfield was excitedly
>explaining how he had cracked nuts on the railroad tracks as a kid, placing
>the nuts between two ties so the sagging of the rail under the weight of a
>train would break them open. "Just like cracking walnuts," he explained.
>"To complete the circuit
> (detonating the 55-pound charge) we hook in a microswitch ..between two
>ties. We don't set it off, the TRAIN does." Not only did Hatfield have the
>plan, he wanted to be part of the volunteer shore party.
>
> The solution found, there was no shortage of volunteers, all that was
>needed was the proper weather...a little cloud cover to darken the moon for
>the mission ashore. Lucky Fluckey established his own criteria for the
>volunteer party: ...No married men would be included, except for
>Hatfield...The party would include members from each department...The
>opportunity would be split between regular Navy and Navy Reserve sailors...
>At least half of the men had to have been Boy Scouts, experienced in how to
>handle themselves in medical emergencies and in the woods....FINALLY,
>"Lucky" Fluckey would lead the saboteurs himself.
>
> When the names of the 8 selected sailors was announced it was greeted
>with a mixture of excitement and disappointment. Among the disappointed was
>Commander Fluckey who surrendered his opportunity at the insistence of his
>officers that "as commander he belonged with the Barb," coupled with the
>threat from one that "I swear I'll send a message to ComSubPac if you
>attempt this (joining the shore party himself)." Even a Japanese POW being
>held on the Barb wanted to go, promising not to try to escape.
>
> In the meantime, there would be no more harassment of Japanese shipping
>or shore operations by the Barb until the train mission had been
>accomplished. The crew would "lay low", prepare their equipment, train, and
>wait for the weather.
>
> July 22, 1945 (Patience Bay, Off the coast of Karafuto, Japan) Patience
>Bay was wearing thin the patience of Commander Fluckey and his innovative
>crew. Everything was ready. In the four days the saboteurs had anxiously
>watched the skies for cloud cover, the inventive crew of the Barb had built
>their microswitch. When the need was posed for a pick and shovel to bury
>the explosive charge and batteries, the Barb's engineers had cut up steel
>plates in the lower flats of an engine room, then bent and welded them to
>create the needed tools. The only things beyond their control was the
>weather....and time. Only five days remained in the Barb's patrol.
>
> Anxiously watching the skies, Commander Fluckey noticed plumes of cirrus
>clouds, then white stratus capping the mountain peaks ashore. A cloud cover
>was building to hide the three-quarters moon. This would be the night.
>
> MIDNIGHT, July 23, 1945 The Barb had crept within 950 yards of the
>shoreline. If it was somehow seen from the shore it would probably be
>mistaken for a schooner or Japanese patrol boat. No one would suspect an
>American submarine so close to shore or in such shallow water. Slowly the
>small boats were lowered to the water and the 8 saboteurs began paddling
>toward the enemy beach. Twenty-five minutes later they pulled the boats
>ashore and walked on the surface of the Japanese homeland. Having lost
>their points of navigation, the saboteurs landed near the backyard of a
>house. Fortunately the residents had no dogs, though the sight of human AND
>dog's tracks in the sand along the beach alerted the brave sailors to the
>potential for unexpected danger.
>
> Stumbling through noisy waist-high grasses, crossing a highway and then
>stumbling into a 4-foot drainage ditch, the saboteurs made their way to the
>railroad tracks. Three men were posted as guards, Markuson assigned to
>examine a nearby water tower. The Barb's auxiliary man climbed the ladder,
>then stopped in shock as he realized it was an enemy lookout tower....an
>OCCUPIED tower. Fortunately the Japanese sentry was peacefully sleeping and
>Markuson was able to quietly withdraw and warn his raiding party.
>
> The news from Markuson caused the men digging the placement for the
>explosive charge to continue their work more slowly and quietly. Suddenly,
>from less than 80 yards away, an express train was bearing down on them.
>The appearance was a surprise, it hadn't occured to the crew during the
>planning for the mission that there might be a night train. When at last it
>passed, the brave but nervous sailors extracated themselves from the brush
>into which they had lept, to continue their task. Twenty minutes later the
>holes had been dug and the explosives and batteries hidden beneath fresh
>soil.
>
> During planning for the mission the saboteurs had been told that, with
>the explosives in place, all would retreat a safe distance while Hatfield
>made the final connection. If the sailor who had once cracked walnuts on
>the railroad tracks slipped during this final, dangerous proceedure, his
>would be the only life lost. On this night it was the only order the
>saboteurs refused to obey, all of them peering anxiously over Hatfield's
>shoulder to make sure he did it right. The men had come too far to be
>disappointed by a switch failure.
>
> 1:32 A.M. Watching from the deck of the Barb, Commander Fluckey allowed
>himself a sigh of relief as he noticed the flashlight signal from the beach
>announcing the departure of the shore party. He had skillfully, and
>daringly, guided the Barb within 600 yards of the enemy beach. There was
>less than 6 feet of water beneath the sub's keel, but Fluckey wanted to be
>close in case trouble arose and a daring rescue of his saboteurs became
>necessary.
>
> 1:45 A.M. The two boats caring his saboteurs were only halfway back to
>the Barb when the sub's machinegunner yelled, "CAPTAIN! Another train
>coming up the tracks!" The Commander grabbed a megaphone and yelled through
>the night, "Paddle like the devil!", knowing full well that they wouldn't
>reach the Barb before the train hit the microswitch.
>
> 1:47 A.M. The darkness was shattered by brilliant light and the roar of
>the explosion. The boilers of the locomotive blew, shattered pieces of the
>engine blowing 200 feet into the air. Behind it the cars began to accordian
>into each other, bursting into flame and adding to the magnificent
>fireworks display. Five minutes later the saboteurs were lifted to the deck
>by their exuberant comrades as the Barb turned to slip back to safer
>waters. Moving at only two knots, it would be a while before the Barb was
>into waters deep enough to allow it to submerge. It was a moment to savor,
>the culmination of teamwork, ingenuity and daring by the Commander and all
>his crew. "Lucky" Fluckey's voice came over the intercom. "All hands below
>deck not absolutely needed to maneuver the ship have permission to come
>topside." He didn't have to repeat the invitation. Hatches sprang open as
>the proud sailors of the Barb gathered on her decks to proudly watch the
>distan t fireworks display. The Barb had "sunk" a Japanese TRAIN!
>
> On August 2, 1945 the Barb arrived at Midway, her twelfth war patrol
>concluded. Meanwhile United States military commanders had pondered the
>prospect of an armed assault on the Japanese homeland. Military tacticians
>estimated such an invasion would cost more than a million American
>casualties. Instead of such a costly armed offensive to end the war, on
>August 6th the B-29 bomber Enola Gay dropped a single atomic bomb on the
>city of Hiroshima, Japan. A second such bomb, unleashed 4 days later on
>Nagasaki, Japan, caused Japan to agree to surrender terms on August
> 15th. On September 2, 1945 in Tokyo Harbor the documents ending the war
>in the Pacific were signed.
>
> The story of the saboteurs of the U.S.S. Barb is one of those unique,
>little known stories of World War II. It becomes increasingly important
>when one realizes that the 8 sailors who blew up the train at near Kashiho,
>Japan conducted the ONLY GROUND COMBAT OPERATION on the Japanese "homeland"
>of World War II. The eight saboteurs were: Paul Saunders, William Hatfield,
>Francis Sever, Lawrence Newland, Edward Klinglesmith, James Richard, John
>Markuson, and William Walker.
>
> NOTE: Eugene Bennett Fluckey retired from the Navy as a Rear Admiral,
>and wears in addition to his Medal of Honor, FOUR Navy Crosses... a record
>of awards unmatched by any living American. In 1992 his own history of the
>U.S.S. Barb was published in the award winning book, THUNDER BELOW. Over
>the past several years proceeds from the sale of this exciting book have
>been used by Admiral Fluckey to provide free reunions for the men who
>served him aboard the Barb, and their wives. Admiral Fluckey was born in
>Washington , D.C. in 1913 and graduated from the U.S. Naval Academy in
> 1935. He died 28 June 2007 in Annapolis, Maryland.
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