sea.
He returned to the Navy in early 1942 as a chief petty officer—an “old chief” at the age of twenty-nine. He was soon a part of the commissioning crew of the newly constructed submarine, helping put Billfish through her sea trials, getting her and a relatively inexperienced crew ready for war.
His job as chief motor machinist’s mate put him in charge of the engine rooms and the twenty or so men who worked there. He had to make certain that the four two-thousand-horsepower diesel engines worked properly and were tuned and ready to go when called upon. That meant regular maintenance, inventorying replacement parts, and sometimes having to repair them in the midst of very trying circumstances.
To the amusement of his gang, Odom often wore a doctor’s stethoscope around his neck. Even though the roar of the engines eventually rendered hard of hearing most men who worked in submarine engine rooms, Odom claimed he could tell if one of his engines had a problem just by listening to it through the stethoscope. It was like a physician listening for a heart murmur in his patient’s chest.
Crew members made fun of him—behind his back, of course—when he bent over one of the big motors, the stethoscope pressed to its throbbing pulse. They stopped laughing, though, when he diagnosed a small problem before it became a big one, or he was able to quickly locate and fix a glitch before any of them even knew one existed.
Whether it was the stethoscope or not, Odom was a genius when it came to keeping those engines going.
Billfish completed sea trials and training and passed through the Panama Canal in the summer of 1943. When they first entered the Pacific Ocean, she dived for a particular exercise. Some practice depth charges were dropped about a mile away from their position in order to give the crew an opportunity to experience what an attack sounded and felt like.
Not so bad, they thought. Not so bad at least from a mile away.
She and her crew arrived in Australia in early August 1943. After refitting, repairing some things that had broken during the transit, loading on stores, and doing some more chores to get ready, she departed on her first war patrol twelve days later. The run ended on October 10 in Fremantle, the port for Perth.
Captain Lucas ran the patrol the way the Navy taught him to. He was to avoid detection, protect the submarine and crew, and attack if a target presented itself, but only if there was a reasonable chance of success. Then quickly run and hide to avoid enemy destroyers or aircraft. It was crucial that they use the vessel’s stealth capabilities to ensure she lived to fight another day.
Minimal risks. No foolhardy attacks. Do not waste torpedoes on long shots. Save them for prime targets when circumstances allowed for a high-probability assault.
Remain silent. Stay hidden. Do not let the enemy know you are in the area. Best to remain hidden and wait for the best targets.
A highlight of Billfish ’s first run was what was termed an “assist” to another Fremantle boat, USS Bowfin (SS-287), a submarine launched one year to the day after the attack on Pearl Harbor. For that reason, she carried the nickname “the Pearl Harbor Avenger.” She certainly lived up to her moniker, becoming one of the more productive boats of World War II. She ranks fifteenth among all submarines for number of enemy vessels sunk in the war, even after postwar analysis took away many of her “certain” kills.
Billfish and Bowfin were the first two submarines to be assigned as part of the new Squadron Sixteen in Fremantle, so it was only natural that they worked together on their first patrol assignment in the same region of the South China Sea.
Billfish and Lucas hooked up with Bowfin and her skipper, Joe Willingham, about a month into the patrol—September 24, in the South China Sea off Indochina, right in the midst of one of Japan’s primary shipping lanes—and they began an informal partnership,
He returned to the Navy in early 1942 as a chief petty officer—an “old chief” at the age of twenty-nine. He was soon a part of the commissioning crew of the newly constructed submarine, helping put Billfish through her sea trials, getting her and a relatively inexperienced crew ready for war.
His job as chief motor machinist’s mate put him in charge of the engine rooms and the twenty or so men who worked there. He had to make certain that the four two-thousand-horsepower diesel engines worked properly and were tuned and ready to go when called upon. That meant regular maintenance, inventorying replacement parts, and sometimes having to repair them in the midst of very trying circumstances.
To the amusement of his gang, Odom often wore a doctor’s stethoscope around his neck. Even though the roar of the engines eventually rendered hard of hearing most men who worked in submarine engine rooms, Odom claimed he could tell if one of his engines had a problem just by listening to it through the stethoscope. It was like a physician listening for a heart murmur in his patient’s chest.
Crew members made fun of him—behind his back, of course—when he bent over one of the big motors, the stethoscope pressed to its throbbing pulse. They stopped laughing, though, when he diagnosed a small problem before it became a big one, or he was able to quickly locate and fix a glitch before any of them even knew one existed.
Whether it was the stethoscope or not, Odom was a genius when it came to keeping those engines going.
Billfish completed sea trials and training and passed through the Panama Canal in the summer of 1943. When they first entered the Pacific Ocean, she dived for a particular exercise. Some practice depth charges were dropped about a mile away from their position in order to give the crew an opportunity to experience what an attack sounded and felt like.
Not so bad, they thought. Not so bad at least from a mile away.
She and her crew arrived in Australia in early August 1943. After refitting, repairing some things that had broken during the transit, loading on stores, and doing some more chores to get ready, she departed on her first war patrol twelve days later. The run ended on October 10 in Fremantle, the port for Perth.
Captain Lucas ran the patrol the way the Navy taught him to. He was to avoid detection, protect the submarine and crew, and attack if a target presented itself, but only if there was a reasonable chance of success. Then quickly run and hide to avoid enemy destroyers or aircraft. It was crucial that they use the vessel’s stealth capabilities to ensure she lived to fight another day.
Minimal risks. No foolhardy attacks. Do not waste torpedoes on long shots. Save them for prime targets when circumstances allowed for a high-probability assault.
Remain silent. Stay hidden. Do not let the enemy know you are in the area. Best to remain hidden and wait for the best targets.
A highlight of Billfish ’s first run was what was termed an “assist” to another Fremantle boat, USS Bowfin (SS-287), a submarine launched one year to the day after the attack on Pearl Harbor. For that reason, she carried the nickname “the Pearl Harbor Avenger.” She certainly lived up to her moniker, becoming one of the more productive boats of World War II. She ranks fifteenth among all submarines for number of enemy vessels sunk in the war, even after postwar analysis took away many of her “certain” kills.
Billfish and Bowfin were the first two submarines to be assigned as part of the new Squadron Sixteen in Fremantle, so it was only natural that they worked together on their first patrol assignment in the same region of the South China Sea.
Billfish and Lucas hooked up with Bowfin and her skipper, Joe Willingham, about a month into the patrol—September 24, in the South China Sea off Indochina, right in the midst of one of Japan’s primary shipping lanes—and they began an informal partnership,
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