by: Bill Lanahan

I loved being an engineman! But most of all, I loved being a "Submarine Qualified" Engineman!

One of the best parts of being an engineman in the Forward Engine Room of a Diesel Powered fast attack submarine was being able to be one of the first people to witness a sense of "really wanting to belong" in the eyes of "Newbie Non-Quals" as they passed through the water tight door from the After Battery and into the Forward Temple of Doom (I mean Forward Engine Room). You see, every newbie, from the time they first walk across that brow in spit shined dress shoes, carrying their bright new canvas duffel bag full of fresh new stenciled boot camp issued threads while sporting a perfectly placed dixie cup on a well manicured head of regulation hair, all they want to do is be "one of the guys". Depending on who the topside watch was at the time, the newbie may or may not have been pre-warned of what actually takes place in the engine rooms of a diesel powered submarine. These are the things that were not taught in submarine school.

Bill Brasby was one of those "Newbies" that not only wanted to be a submariner, but also wanted to be an "Engineman". I don't know why, but we always made it tougher on newbie non-quals who wanted to be enginemen than we did on anyone else, so when "Braz" was asked what he wanted to strike for on the boat and he said "Engineman", it was only proper that he be properly "tested" in order to fit into our fossil fueling band of fuel oil soaked mis-fits.

Before Braz was taken back to his Stern Room bunk from the After Battery Mess, we made sure the stage was set in the FER by pulling out the 1 lb. coffee can we kept stashed in one of the lockers under the FER work bench. Also removed from the work bench were the metal machinist ruler and the stash of engine room change we kept around just for this purpose.

After the can and ruler were placed on the work bench next to the vise, some of us would throw a few bills into the can as "seed", and to "sweeten the pot" so to speak. The next thing was to have one of us put our thumbs into the vise on the work bench and have someone tighten the jaws just a bit.

I'll never forget 'ol Braz's look of confusion when he walked into the Engineroom, introduced himself, then seen one of us gear mongers with our thumbs between the jaws of a vise! I remember him asking, "Whatcha doin'?"

"Thumb flattenin' contest" was the reply while placing the ruler across the vise jaws. "Wanna enter" was the next question asked while focusing heavily on the ruler as if measuring the distance between the vise jaws.

We've all been "Newbies", and we all remember wanting to fit in. You can only imagine what was going through poor 'ol Braz's unsuspecting grey matter when he was actually "Invited" to participate in a real live engine room sub sailor contest!!........ Wow, on board for a short time and already starting to fit in - better not "blow it" or else they won't think I'm tough enough to be one of 'em! I just gotta show 'em I'm tough!

"You bet!" came the enthusiastic reply. "Whadda I gotta do?"

"Well first thing, you gotta do is put a few bucks into the can. Winner takes all. Of course the winner has to buy the beer after we get off" I'd reply.

"The object of the contest is to see who can get their thumbs the flattest, right now you gotta beat 35/64ths"

I guess I don't need to go into any more detail other than to say that just after 'ol Braz started to hurt real bad (you could see the pain in his eyes) we quit crankin' the handle on that vise then proceed to relieve him of his tidy new dungarees in preparation of "Squeak Maintenance" (Greasing - that's another story).

Braz turned out to be a fine engineman. He was "thick skinned" and didn't mind being the subject of a good practical joke.

I can't remember just how many non-quals ended up with their thumbs in that engine room vise, but I do remember having an Ensign's thumbs in it once when 'ol Joe Steckler was doing a walk through one evening while we were steaming to Subic on a West Pac cruise back in '73. He just walked on through as if nothing was going on. Joe was one helluva skipper!

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