He had placed exercise equipment in various places around the engine-room soon after reporting aboard. He hadn’t bothered to ask for official permission, knowing the Naval Reactors’ official policy frowned on any such "frivolity". When Commodore Calucci saw the equipment, he threw a fit and ordered it removed. The Commodore told COMSUBPAC of the problem, but when the admiral decided that he liked the idea, it suddenly became the Commodore’s idea. Hunter was ordered to submit the plans for his installation to the squadron engineer so all the boats could enjoy the benefits of the Commodore’s idea.
“What do you mean, not bad?” Hunter shot back, attempting to keep his breathing under control. “That is a new world record for a Versa-Climber on a submarine. Twelve thousand vertical feet in an hour.”
“Maybe in the over-forty class,” Roland kidded the Commander. “I’m afraid that I did fifteen thousand yesterday.”
“You’re up and about early,” Hunter commented, turning the direction of the conversation.
“Yes, sir,” the SEAL leader answered seriously. “I always have trouble sleeping before an operation. This one bothers me worse than most, probably because I’m not going in with the first group.”
Hunter nodded. “I know where you are coming from. You worry a lot more when you are sending your men in and you aren’t going. You trust Boats and your men, don’t you?”
“Absolutely. Boats is as good as they get and the men all know their jobs. They’re like your crew. All professionals,” the SEAL platoon leader responded.
“Then you have to trust them to get the job done. You have planned it out, rehearsed it to perfection. There is nothing for you to do but sit back and wait. That's the hardest part,” Hunter said. “Is there anything left that we need to work out?”
Roland answered, “No, sir. We have looked at all the contingencies that we can think of. What is left is the truly unexpected. That always comes up.”
“And that is why you trained and coached them so well,” Hunter concluded, climbing the ladder to engine-room upper level. “Have a good work-out. See you at breakfast.”
20 Jun 2000, 1530LT (0830Z)
Hunter stood beside the number-two periscope, a step behind the diving officer. “Jones, you are just about the poorest excuse for a Chief Petty Officer that I have ever laid eyes on. I still can’t believe that stupid stunt you pulled when the Commodore was riding. You know that he is the ultimate prude and yet you show skin flicks in radio. And to make matters even worse, you invite the Squadron Master Chief to watch. Do you have a death wish for your career? If you weren’t the best Diving Officer in the Navy, you wouldn’t even be here. You'd be a Second Class Petty Officer counting blankets in Nome, Alaska.”
Jones replied easily, “Skipper, if I weren’t the best Diving Officer in the Navy, you wouldn’t be here, either. Without the two of us, this mission would be impossible. Besides, it’s common knowledge there is no love lost between you and the Commodore. The crew thinks he’s a spineless weenie, particularly after he nixed your chances of making O-6.”
Hunter answered, “OK Chief, let’s review the bidding here. If I hadn't gone to bat for you, I would be home in bed with my wife right now under a beautiful Hawaiian moon. Instead, I am out here, just off some God-forsaken island that's full of people with big guns who want to do bad things to us. I am about to start a maneuver that has never been done in combat before and has every likelihood of getting our asses shot off. For this I am supposed to be thankful, because you are the best Diving Officer in the Navy? My judgment must be faulty. Now strap on this boat and make her dance.”
“Yes sir!" Jones replied as he settled more comfortably into his seat. Reaching out with both hands, he boxed the helmsman’s and planesman’s ears. “You heard the Skipper, let’s make her dance.”
“XO, are we ready to go?” Hunter questioned.
Fagan answered, “Yes, sir. The first four swimmers are ready to enter the forward escape trunk. Their gear is stowed in the after trunk. It’s flooded and equalized with sea pressure. A watch is stationed at the ESGN to report velocities. The ship has a good zero speed trim. The crew is standing fast so that their weight doesn’t mess up the trim. A hose has been rigged from the forward trunk drain to the machinery one bilge. We’ll have to do three cycles to get all ten men out.”
Fagan seemed to have recovered from the KILO affair, but Hunter wasn't totally convinced. He would have to be watched closely for any more signs of cracking.
Hunter said, “Let’s get this show on the road. Officer of the Deck, proceed to periscope depth and take a look around. We will be doing the lock-out from eighty feet, just like we practiced.”
Sam Stuart ordered, "Diving Officer, make your depth six-two feet." He then raised the search periscope. As SAN FRANCISCO started her ascent, Stuart began the slow sweep around to make sure
