The Galloping Ghost (38 page)

Vice Admiral Guinn reminded Admiral Fluckey in the spring of 1971 that he would have approximately one year of possible service remaining after IBERLANT was in full operation. “I am sure you can appreciate the difficulty of
trying to arrange a meaningful one year assignment for you,” Guinn wrote. “It would therefore be very helpful if we could have some indication as to your personal plans and/or desires at that time.”

Fluckey and his wife discussed their options and ultimately decided to retire and stay in Portugal. They enjoyed their home, their Sintra neighbors, and the many friends they had made in Portugal and Europe. They had enough money to live comfortably and travel at will, including trips home to the United States.

On his last day at IBERLANT in August 1972, Fluckey studied the view from the window of his second-floor office. He could see the white dot on the distant mountain, the one just below Pena Palace. It was a clear view of home. The admiral's view of his career, his capabilities, and his goals had always been one of clarity. Life had been good. Physically he and his wife had triumphed over major impediments—Marjorie had successfully battled cancer and survived a lifelong battle with diabetes, and Gene had reversed severe nearsightedness to remain in the academy, become an ensign, and evolve into the most formidable submarine captain of the Pacific War. His leadership traits were nurtured by Admiral Nimitz when Fluckey was his aide, traits that stuck with him and enlarged their friendship. “The part of [Nimitz's] character I have absorbed has certainly made me a more effective and tolerant leader, so long as high standards are maintained,” he would reflect years later in an interview. Fluckey was among the last to see the admiral at a hospital in San Francisco before his death on 20 February 1966 from complications following a stroke. The rear admiral visited with the Nimitzes at their home on Treasure Island in San Francisco Bay whenever he was in the area on Navy business. “The doctors would not permit me to see him in the hospital, and I said, ‘You'd better tell him I'm here, because I think he might want me to cheer him up.' With these doctors he immediately said, ‘I don't care whether I'm dying or not, come on in,' and he started telling me stories again. A great man has passed on.”

Above all, Gene Fluckey stubbornly clung to the one mantra that had carried him through life, handed down to him as a teenager in the static of a distant radio broadcast by President Calvin Coolidge. It was a credo for a purposeful life that the Boy Scout, the midshipman, the submarine captain, the naval attaché, the sub fleet commander, the naval intelligence chief, and the commander of IBERLANT came to repeat throughout his life in tough times that sometimes became tougher: “We don't have problems, just solutions.”

A life is like a ship afloat;

Image and status not withstanding,

Some will venture far, some just hug the coast.

Some, burdened with self, merely fill a void.

Others with goals to pursue, will flee all bonds

Of season or state of sea, their missions to fulfill.

At times, out of reach, but always in touch,

Forging ahead with imagination and vision afar,

With many a high tide, each achievement to mark;

Each risk, each goal to be shared.

With time, a bit threadbare, yet still enduring;

And by word and deed,

Creating a memory, knowing no age.

A life replete with glory, rare companionship and grace.

Gene and Marjorie Fluckey devoted themselves to the care of orphans in Portugal upon retirement. The couple provided clothing, food, and other needs to the Catholic orphanage of Escola Santa Isabela, as did their daughter Barbara and her family, who sent regular shipments of clothing. Meanwhile, Gene stayed active in all things Navy.

10 July 1972—“I can still see the
Barb
approaching”

SINTRA, Portugal
—Neville Thams of Australia today visited Gene and Marjorie at their quinta. Thams, among Australian and British prisoners rescued by the
Barb
while adrift in the South China Sea in 1944, expressed his thanks, noting, “I can still see very clearly the
Barb
approaching us . . . the rope to pull us on board . . . and the crew who watched over us . . . answering the frequent calls for water and with great patience attending to our needs.”

15 October 1972—Sold for scrap

WASHINGTON, D.C.
—The U.S. Navy announced today it had sold the
Barb
for scrap metal, raising $100,000. The boat, loaned to Italy after the war, had outlived its usefulness and was returned to the Navy. Admiral Fluckey said that had he and his shipmates known the
Barb
was headed to the scrap heap, they would have raised enough money to spare it and convert it into a museum submarine.

25 April 1974
—
Revolution of the Carnations

LISBON, Portugal
—Soldiers aligned with Major Otelo Saraiva de Carvalho today seized control of the Portuguese government. Without opposition, troops occupied key intersections, bridges, and government buildings all over Lisbon and Portugal. Jubilant citizens swarmed the streets and put red carnations into the barrels of the soldiers' rifles. The new government decreed that all Portuguese colonies in Africa would be set free immediately.

26 February 1978—River Kwai

SYDNEY, Australia
—American author Clay Blair Jr. arrived here today to interview former Japanese POWs for his book,
Return from the River Kwai
. POW Charlie Madden described for Blair the approach of Gene Fluckey and his submarine in the South China Sea: “It was the sound of an engine and we looked up at the sky. But there was nothing there and there still was the sound of the engine. It was coming from below us and we all thought
we had gone mad. Then beside us popped up this submarine. It was the USS
Barb
. The seas were getting up and we were the last ones to be rescued. We were lucky, as we had had no food or water for five days and were just about done.”

17 August 1979—Passing of Marjorie Fluckey

CROFTON, Maryland
—Marjorie Fluckey died today at the home of her daughter after battling cancer for more than a decade. The second recurrence of the disease was diagnosed after she arrived in Portugal, where her husband took over NATO's Iberian command. She returned to Bethesda (Maryland) Naval Hospital in the United States for massive radiation treatments. After a long period of quarantine, the doctors discharged her to return home to Sintra. “They thought she would die. But she fooled them,” recalled her daughter Barbara. In 1972 she returned to the hospital for a checkup, where the doctors called her a “miracle.”

Unfortunately, the cancer returned a few years later, getting progressively worse until 1976, when she mysteriously regained a long-term burst of energy. For more than two years she and her husband traveled extensively. “They traveled to Russia, down the Danube, and to other places,” explained her daughter.

In January 1979 the disease took an aggressive turn. The Fluckeys moved into their daughter's home in Crofton, where they stayed until Marjorie's death in August. “My father rarely left her side,” said his daughter.

Mrs. Fluckey's body was cremated. Her husband flew back to Portugal with most of her ashes and spread them in the gardens she so loved at their quinta and also on the grounds of the orphanage. The Naval Academy class of 1935 made a donation to the orphanage in her name.

20 August 1980—“Plucky Fluckey”

ISLE OF MANN, England
—Gene Fluckey today married Eleanor Margaret Wallace. Nine months after his wife's death, the admiral met her at a luncheon arranged by her sister, who lived in Sintra. Margaret, a British subject with homes in Wales and the Isle of Mann, was going through a difficult divorce from prominent English civil engineer James McAlpine. With a penchant for sports cars, she embraced life as much as Gene. After their marriage, Margaret arranged for the admiral to meet two friends for lunch. She introduced her husband as “Eugene Fluckey.” He added, “You won't forget my name, will you, as in lucky Fluckey?” And they sang in chorus to the admiral, “And she's plucky Fluckey.” The newlyweds honeymooned by touring France's Bordeaux region by hot-air balloon.

Summer 1981—Homecoming

ANNAPOLIS, Maryland
—Gene and Margaret Fluckey sold their homes in Portugal and on the Isle of Mann and relocated to a home near the Naval Academy. Both began a close relationship with the academy and the Brigade of Midshipmen.

13 November 1981—Gathering of heroes

PEARL HARBOR, Hawaii
—Admiral Fluckey was among more than two hundred Medal of Honor winners gathered today at the submarine base in Pearl Harbor for a Medal of Honor Society convention. Four surviving World War II sub skippers were in attendance—Vice Adm. Lawson P. Ramage (USS
Parche
), Rear Adm. Richard H. O'Kane (USS
Tang
), Capt. George L. Street III (USS
Tirante
), and Gene Fluckey.

October 1983—Nimitz and Togo

TOKYO, Japan
—The city's Togo Shrine was closed to tourists for a banquet in honor of Gene and Margaret Fluckey. Japanese officers and crewmen who had served in
Kurashio,
the former U.S. submarine
Mingo
(SS-261) loaned to the Japanese navy in 1955, hosted the event. Fluckey had trained the first Japanese crew to sail the sub.

During a pre-banquet tour of the shrine, the Fluckeys noticed many photographs of Admiral Nimitz. Fluckey was stunned, asking his Japanese escorts, “Why photos of Nimitz?”

“He did so much for Admiral Togo,” explained a Japanese officer. “During our conflict he ordered that no Allied bombing was permitted to target the battleship
Mikasa,
Togo's flagship, when he sank the Czar's Baltic Fleet at the Battle of Tsushima Strait [in 1905]. After our surrender he had the mooring cemented between the piers so she can never sink. Furthermore he dedicated all his profits from his book
The Great Sea War
to the rebuilding of the Togo Shrine.”

12 December 1983—Ronald Reagan

NEW YORK, New York—
Admiral Fluckey today attended a special luncheon to honor President Ronald Reagan, who received the Patriots Award from two hundred surviving members of the Medal of Honor Society.

29 August 1986—Reunion

BALTIMORE, Maryland
—Officers and enlisted men of the original
Barb
reunited for the first time since the launch and commissioning of the atomic attack sub
Barb
. Forty-three crewmen plus Admiral Fluckey, Adm.
Robert McNitt, Tuck Weaver, Capt. Max Duncan, and Reserve Cdr. Dave Teeters attended. All had been very successful in life. Admiral McNitt had served as commander of NATO submarines in the Mediterranean, superintendent of the Naval Postgraduate School, and director of the Navy Management Systems Center at Monterey, California. Upon retirement in 1972, he became senior professor and dean of admissions at the Naval Academy. Weaver became a business executive who traveled internationally and was the first
Barb
veteran to visit Australian Neville Thams, the POW rescued by the submarine in 1944. Max Duncan spent twenty-three years in subs commanding two submarines, a division, a tender, a base, and a squadron. He capped his career as commander of Naval Support Activity Saigon in 1968 and 1969. Dave Teeters, after the war, continued a very active career in the Naval Reserve, received his Ph.D. in physics from the University of California at Berkeley, was involved in the development of the touch-tone telephone at Bell Telephone, and eventually retired as professor of physics at Monmouth University of New Jersey. Also attending was Chief Gunners Mate Paul “Swish” Saunders, who was the
Barb
's chief of the boat and one of the most decorated enlisted submariners in the Navy. Many crewmen graduated from college on the GI Bill and became successful in business and in various professions and governmental posts.

10 March 1989—Deactivated

SAN DIEGO, California
—The USS
Barb
(SSN-596) was decommissioned today. Like the original
Barb
's rescue of prisoners of war, the atomic attack sub saved four crewmen of a B-52 bomber that crashed off the coast of Guam on 10 July 1972. In waves cresting forty feet,
Barb
officers and crew located two rafts carrying survivors. Because of seventy-knot winds and an inability to come alongside the rafts as the sub rolled forty degrees, Chief Torpedoman Jon Hentz dived overboard and swam a line to the first raft. In the swim back, he almost didn't make it. It took a remarkable feat of seamanship for
Barb
crewmen to haul him and the aviators on both rafts to safety.

17 November 1989—Fluckey Hall (Connecticut)

GROTON, Connecticut
—Gene Fluckey today addressed enlisted men and officers at the dedication of Fluckey Hall at the Naval Submarine School here. The ninety thousand-square-foot, six-story facility is designed to support advanced combat systems training for submariners into the twenty-first century. The school trains more than sixty thousand students annually. The admiral expressed how proud he was, comparing the sensation to the way his eight-year-old granddaughter Gail Bove felt on learning to swim
on a visit to her grandfather's house in Hawaii in 1965. “At the end of the summer she won the prize in a race swimming on her back while reading a magazine,” explained Gene. “A trophy was presented. She asked if it was really gold. I told her no, it was more important than gold for it represented achievement. Her response: ‘Granddad, I'm so proud of myself, I can hardly stand me.' ”