"The Right Thing to Do"

  • Commander Scott Waddle was in his private hell. His submarine, the U.S.S. Greeneville, had sunk a Japanese fishing vessel off Hawaii, killing nine people. His career in the Navy was over. He was potentially facing a court-martial. His lawyer had told him to remain silent. And still Waddle decided to stand up last week and testify at the Navy's court of inquiry into the accident. "This court needs to hear from me. It is the right thing to do," said Waddle.

    The courtroom was stunned. It was the 12th and final day of testimony in the inquiry into why the 6,900-ton nuclear sub shot to the surface in a procedure known as a ballast blow, slicing into the hull of the 190-ft. Ehime Maru and causing it to sink within minutes. The court, which is to decide what action, if any, is to be taken against Waddle, 41, and two other officers, had heard conflicting accounts of how well Waddle ran his ship. A petty officer in charge of analyzing sonar data had conceded he had been "a little bit" lazy in not telling Waddle that a ship appeared to be just 4,000 yds. away. Questions had been raised about the extent to which 16 civilians onboard may have interfered with safety procedures.

    But now the man at the center of the tragedy was coming out to testify--even though the Navy had refused to give him immunity for his testimony against any future proceedings. While Waddle spoke, his lawyer, Charles Gittins, sat despondently with his head in his hands, pulling at his hair. Waddle was on his own, and he knew it. Conceding that "mistakes were made," Waddle said, "as commanding officer, I am solely responsible for this truly tragic accident, and for the rest of my life I will have to live with the horrible consequences."

    As Waddle endured blistering questions from the three admirals presiding over the inquiry, the complex character of the 20-year veteran of the Navy was put on full view. Here was a charismatic fast-track officer who was worshipped by the enlisted men but whose headstrong manner rubbed against the more cautious instincts of his senior officers. Waddle exulted in his command and couldn't stop himself from telling civilians the speed and depth his submarine could attain, even though the Navy regards such information as classified.

    Several senior officers on the submarine testified that they thought Waddle was going through the emergency-ascent routine too quickly but did not want to challenge him with civilians present in the control room. During the inquiry, Rear Admiral Albert Konetzni, commander of the U.S. Pacific Fleet submarine force, looked over at Waddle in the courtroom and said, "He is like my brother, if not my son. I'd like to go over there and punch him for not taking more time." But Waddle rigorously defended the procedures onboard the Greeneville, denying that he had cut corners on safety or that he had been in a hurry to return to port that day. Lawyer Gittins later hit back at the high command with a suggestion that retired Admiral Richard Macke, who organized the civilian tour on the sub, may have had "some sort of financial relationship" with the visitors. Waddle received the support of half a dozen sailors from the Greeneville who contradicted the senior officers, testifying that Waddle was a careful officer who always stressed safety measures during his command. "He is the kind of guy who could stand up in a crowded room and say 'Follow me' and they all would," said retired Navy captain and submariner John Peters.

    One person Waddle won over was Kazuo Nakata, father of one of the Japanese lost on the sunken boat. He sat each day at the inquiry filled with anger, until he met Waddle face to face and accepted his apologies. "He bowed to me, and a tear fell to the floor. In that moment we were two human beings," said Nakata.

    The Navy, which seems keen to avoid any suggestion of a cover-up, is expected to take six to eight weeks to decide on further action. Opinion polls show the U.S. public does not think Waddle should be court-martialed, and naval history indicates a court-martial is rare for an officer involved in an accident at sea. But with feelings running high in Japan, Waddle is fearful he could be "sacrificed" to maintain good relations with the U.S.'s most important military ally in the Pacific. "He did his level best," said Gittins. "He may have fallen short on that day, but it wasn't criminal." Waddle's private hell is still far from over.