It was decided that I should take the first two groups of survivors to the hospital. The hospital had been chosen not because they needed hospitalization but because they could be protected there from the reporters and photographers, and just plain thrill seekers. There families only were to be allowed to see them in the hospital -- at least until we had rescued all of the men and until the situation was a little more clearly defined. These were my instructions and as the men came out with blankets draped over their head and shoulders, I helped them down into the picket boat which was to transfer them over to the Coast Guard Cutter, HARRIET LANE. The men were then transferred from the picket boat to the cutter, and just before getting underway I took another count to make certain I hadn't lost anyone. Much to my surprise I found that instead of the sixteen men I should have had, there were seventeen. It wasn't too difficult as I looked them over, to single out a strange civilian in the group. He turned out to be a reporter by the name of Nat A. Barrows. He tells the story of how cleverly he managed to get there in his excellent account of the SQUALUS entitled Blow All Ballast. He blames the picket boat skipper for spotting him; actually if he had known that it was the doctor who spotted him he probably wouldn't have mentioned me so kindly in a couple of incidents, and certainly wouldn't have autographed his book for me! But though I couldn't blame him for one of the best trys of all time, I certainly couldn't allow him to be the only reporter with a chance to interview all sixteen rescued men en route to the Navy Yard. I would have been in trouble up to my neck with the skipper. I will admit that I hated to send him back by way of the picket ship to the FALCON, but obviously he had his story. I didn't know until I read his book how he had gotten on the FALCON -- the only reporter there.
As we neared Portsmouth the spirits of the men rose perceptibly. They were all looking forward to getting back to their families and friends -- they had the story of their lives to tell, all right. The HARRIET LANE had to battle an ebbing tide but made the dock on the first try. As we began to tie up, full realization came to me that this had not been just another drill. It had almost seemed so as we went through the routine in which we had been trained so thoroughly and so often. Here, too, for the first time we realized the tremendous emotional response the public had exhibited to this event, Not only were the wives and sweethearts and families waiting behind the Marine guard, but in addition a great mob of people who had come to see the first group brought ashore. Tears of joy streamed down the feces of the women as they watched the arrival of their men. Some of them broke through the Marine guard for a quick embrace and kiss.
We put the men into the waiting ambulances and took them to the hospital. As they went through the Yard they passed the huge cradles where additional submarines were being built. There was no fear in these men -- as a matter of fact, as I listened to them, they were all talking about how quickly they could get back aboard ship and continue the life they loved. Many people seemed to feel, particularly during the war, that we actually had to put a gun in a man's ribs in order to get him into submarine duty. This is not true, The men loved the submarine service, and many times saw strong men with tears flowing down their cheeks beg to be allowed to go back to a submarine when I had to pull them off because of some physical condition. These men were the same. In spite of the experience, they wanted to return.