The man picked for this desperate attempt was Chief Torpedoman Squire. I watched Squire - an enormous man with powerful muscles - as he sat on the tool box and was hastily dressed for this perilous descent. The helpers dressed him rapidly, but with great care; no errors must be allowed in this dressing job. They put on his heavy shoes; they rigged his belt; they fastened his helmet. Through the open faceplate the last instructions were given by Commander McCann. "Unshackle that wire if you can; otherwise, cut it.” Attached to his belt were an enormous pair of wire cutters. Squire was an old hand; he was an experienced diver, but this was a task that would test the courage of the man. He grimly said, "Aye, aye, Sir. It will be done.” Then they closed the faceplate, slapped him on the helmet, and he stepped on the stage and was swung over the side and lowered into the water. In a moment he had disappeared from the view given by the searchlight which penetrated only a few feet into the blackness. He slid down the line that had been attached by the PENACOOK when it had grappled and caught the SQUALU5. In less than three minutes we once again heard the good word "On the deck of the submarine." And then we heard no more for several minutes. It wasn't until later that I found out in talking with Squire that he had struggled and struggled, trying to unbolt the shackle. But he was working in the cold with two-finger mittens, with a shackle that had jammed because of the strain that was on it, and he couldn't get the nut to move at all. And remember that with 109 pounds pressure per square inch of his body he wasn't quite the strong man that he was on land; he was more like a youngster with no strength at all, plus the fact that at that depth he was fairly groggy. He told me later that he kept repeating to himself his last instruction, "If you can't unshackle it, cut it. If you can't unshackle it, cut it." After a few minutes working with the bolt he realized that he must cut the wire. Could he make those giant wire cutters work? He reached around, found them still hanging to his belt, cut the marlin line that held them, and started hacking away. He was cold, discouraged, and a little bit confused, but he had strength enough left so that the cutters broke through, the wire parted. Almost hysterically he shouted over the phone, "I've cut it." Momsen who was handling the dive responded, "Good work. Stand by to come up.”
Although the people in the bell couldn't hear Squire at work they knew when he had finished because when the wire was released the bell swung slightly toward the SQUALUS and hit with a thump. This gave McDonald and Mihalowski another opportunity to laugh and joke about the rare occasion of a collision between a submarine and a rescue bell on the bottom of the ocean. Although the survivors smiled, it wasn't too funny a joke because they were still on the bottom and getting up was still a gamble.
As soon as Squire was on the diving stage and well clear of the bell, attention returned to bringing the bell to the surface. It seemed reasonably simple now. All one had to do was lift the bell with the preventer wire. Although the preventer wire was not designed for so much lift, surely it would hold. McCann gave the order to the winch operator, "Take her up slowly now. Easy." The drum of the winch turned slowly around and the preventer wire began moving through the fairlee. It had gone only a short distance when several men cried out, "Hold it! Hold it!" and McCann sang out the order, "Vast heaving." They all had seen at about the same time that the wire had stranded and was holding by only a few strands. This was a dangerous spot, if this wire gave way the air hose and telephone cable to the bell would be snapped by the heavy downward motion of the bell and the men in the bell would be lost. McCann gave a series of staccato orders, "Plenty of slack on the air hose and telephone cable. Lower the bell to the bottom. Easy now; don't let the capstan jerk."