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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    Scott Waddle Image
    STEVE LISS FOR TIME
    First Mate: Waddle, with his wife Jill, says the tragedy has strengthened their marraige

    Waddle didn't want to be in submarines at first. The purpose of a sub is to be silent and undetectable, not the Waddle style. He would have preferred to be a pilot like his father and his stepfather. But bad sinuses kept him out of the Air Force, and at Annapolis he flunked a vision test, which ruled out flying altogether. He then tried out for the submarine program and got in, passing the rigorous psychological testing that is designed to ensure that the men who run America's submarine fleet can endure the confines of a sub for long periods.

    Academic work was never Waddle's strength, and he had to push himself hard to get through his bookwork both at school and during his time at the Academy. But no effort was too great if it meant earning the respect and praise of others. His ascent was spectacular. Very soon after he passed his engineer's exam in the Navy in 1985 and returned to his ship, the Trident submarine U.S.S. Alabama, the captain, Garnett Beard, said he was sending the regular engineer on leave and putting Waddle in charge of the nuclear reactor plant that powers the submarine. "Do you know what that did to me?" says Waddle, reliving the thrill of an old success.

    That same year Waddle married Jill Huntington, whom he had met at a cosmetics counter in Silverdale, Wash. She provided the unquestioning devotion he had been seeking all his life. "She loves me unconditionally, although for the longest time I didn't appreciate that," says Waddle. "This tragedy has done one good thing--it has strengthened our bonds, when in other marriages it could have weakened them." They have one daughter, Ashley, 13.

    If home life was stable, his work in the Navy was frenetically competitive. Waddle had always seen himself as destined to fight a war and told his men as much. In October 1999, in his first major sortie after taking command of the Greeneville, he took to sea off San Diego to fight a mock battle against the John C. Stennis carrier group. "They were one to two miles away, coming toward us at 18 knots--and we went up to periscope depth. I was taking my guys into the most dangerous peacetime situation. Any one of those ships could have ripped us apart. I told my men, 'We are going to engage these guys. If I go to war, you want to go to war with me, because I will put the enemy on the bottom and we will come home alive.' That's what gained me their confidence." It was typical Waddle--brash, daring, determined to succeed. He did a series of unorthodox maneuvers with the submarine to confound the carrier group. "They couldn't find us. We ran rings around them."

    Waddle pushed his crew hard. Under him the Greeneville became the envy of the Pacific Submarine Fleet. This was why the Navy chose it to play host to civilians on the Distinguished Visitor Program. Commander Reid Tanaka, who was captain of the U.S.S. Charlotte, a sister submarine to the Greeneville, said he saw himself in "friendly competition" with Waddle. "I would look at his ship and think that if I could get my crew to do some of the things his crew would do--boy, that would be great."

    Waddle earned the absolute trust of his crew, and had the highest re-enlistment rate--65%--of any attack sub in the Pacific Fleet. And the skipper proudly allowed re-enlisters to commemorate their return in almost any fashion they wanted. Be it parachuting out of an airplane or floating in full dive gear in the ocean, Waddle would be along for the rite of passage.

    Before the tragedy, Waddle represented the "new Navy" preached by his mentor, Rear Admiral Konetzni--one with a more solicitous, flexible command style for a Navy of volunteers, not conscripts. While Waddle can be obsessively gregarious, he is also astonishingly attentive to details heard in conversation. He can remember waiters' names days after they have served him in a restaurant, and acquaintances' names from 25 years ago. He would track the lives and careers of his crew, regularly inquiring about girlfriends, family crises, career plans. "I detested the way I was treated as a junior officer early on--like a commodity--and vowed never to treat my men that way." Says First Petty Officer Dave Roberts, who served on the U.S.S. San Francisco when Waddle was executive officer in 1995: "He treats you from the very beginning with respect." Roberts was in charge of maintaining the nuclear reactor, but was having problems with the commanding officer and his department head. His morale was low. Waddle took him aside and talked to him. "He just showed confidence in me," says Roberts, who got back in the groove. "I can't speak highly enough of him."

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