Bitter Passage

STEVE LISS FOR TIME
A Sailor's Farewell: Waddle watches the U.S.S. Greeneville, the sub he once captained, return to sea for the first time since the tragic accident

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STEVE LISS FOR TIME (4)

I'm not tired of apologizing: I'm tired of crying. It kills me that nine people died.

As Waddle has searched for a meaning for what happened, he keeps coming back to the story of Job in the Old Testament. "Job is the closest corollary to what has just happened in my life," he says. "Satan challenged God: 'You have a servant named Job--let me put him to the test.'" The testing was severe--Job lost his family, his belongings and his health, until he cursed the day he was born. But throughout, he maintained his faith in God. Waddle too has lost much: his career and his shipmates. His savings have been eaten up by legal fees. "My test has been, 'Am I willing to compromise my integrity?'" says Waddle. "I cannot tell you how easy it would have been for me to say it wasn't my fault--that the guys who worked for me made the mistakes. But I couldn't in good faith do that."

During the inquiry it emerged that some of the crew on the U.S.S. Greeneville may have made errors that contributed to the accident: failing to realize from sonar readings that the Ehime Maru was 4,000 yds. away and closing; and neglecting to oversee the flow of information properly in the control room. And in the past week Waddle has reversed his previously benign view of the presence of civilians on board. He now thinks the 16 visitors were also a factor in the accident: "Having them in the control room at least interfered with our concentration."

The Greeneville's only reason to put out to sea on Feb. 9 was that Waddle had been told two weeks before that retired Admiral Richard Macke had put together a Distinguished Visitors' Program for the submarine that day. The program was set up by the Navy to win favor for the submarine service from Congressmen and other opinion leaders, and the Greeneville had made several such trips for visitors under Waddle's command. Not only did the visitors crowd the control room, but because Waddle spent so much time with them over lunch, the ship also fell behind schedule, giving Waddle added impetus to move quickly through the series of maneuvers he had designed to impress them.

In the end Waddle was the captain entrusted with the ship, and he and the entire Navy knew what that meant. On March 20 Waddle took the stand during the inquiry, even though he had not been granted immunity from self-incrimination. Taking command of the Greeneville was "an awesome responsibility," he said. "I have no less of a responsibility to stand up and explain the exercise of my judgment as commanding officer... I made a mistake or mistakes... These mistakes were honest and well intentioned." He then submitted to six hours of strenuous questioning from three admirals for whom the term accident was never going to suffice.

"The general opinion on the waterfront was that it was important that he stand up and take responsibility," says Commander Mark Patton, a classmate of Waddle's at the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis, Md., 20 years ago, and now deputy commander for readiness in a submarine squadron in Pearl Harbor. "We wanted to see that happen. It was important for the public to see that happen. And he did that very well."

But to admit that he made mistakes, that his command was somehow less than perfect, has been a bitter journey of self-discovery for Waddle. All his career he has driven himself to excel. "I was so hungry for attention I would do almost anything to prove I was good," he says. He craved the approval of his peers and his superior officers--perhaps to make up for what he missed from his father, who was divorced from his mother when Scott was 11. He aspired to be at the top, looking down. Most of his fellow officers expected him to make it at least as far as commander of the Pacific Submarine Fleet. He had strong backing from the current submarine chief, Rear Admiral Al Konetzni. But last Wednesday, as the Greenville pulled out of Pearl Harbor without him on board, Waddle was at the very bottom.

"It is unfortunate," he muses, "that with all the time and money the Navy has invested in me that they don't need my services--that I am expendable." That is probably his most devastating conclusion of the past two months. Waddle's life goal was to be indispensable: to his country, to the military and to the men he commanded. Born in Japan, where his father was stationed as a U.S. Air Force pilot, he was brought up in England, Georgia, Texas and Naples, Italy, where he graduated from high school. Since his parents divorced when he was young, Waddle did not have much contact with his father during his boyhood. His mother Barbara remarried, to another Air Force pilot, but his stepfather, quiet and reserved, was not the model for Waddle's own personality. Says he: "I'm not like that. I am loud and opinionated--I like to be the center of attention." Even his acts of generosity take on showman quality. One Christmas Waddle used airline vouchers he had accumulated to upgrade 18 complete strangers to first class on a flight from Denver to Seattle.