Destined to Be a Submariner

By Fred F. Maphis

Fred F. Maphis was born in Germany during World War II. His father was in the German Submarine Force, was missing in action, and was presumed dead. During the American occupation of Germany, Freds mother met and fell in love with his stepfather, a Sergeant Maphis of the US Army Air Core, later known as the US Air Force. Fred became a US citizen in 1956. Upon high school graduation, he joined the US Navy and volunteered for submarine duty. Fred served eight years on active duty and twenty-three years in the naval reserves, continuing his ability to work on submarines along with many other types of surface craft. In civilian life, Fred was an electronics technician, and after receiving his BS, he became a process engineer. Fred is married to the love of his life, Derlaann Nalani Maphis, for over fifty-three years. They have three grown children, eight grandchildren, and two great-grandchildren. Fred and his wife reside in Richardson, Texas.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 3, 2018
• ISBN: 9781543465273

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Copyright © 2018 by Fred F. Maphis.

Library of Congress Control Number:       2017917435

ISBN:                   Hardcover                       978-1-5434-6525-9

                            Softcover                        978-1-5434-6526-6

                            eBook                              978-1-5434-6527-3

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

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Rev. date: 01/03/2018

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Contents

1.   The Beginning

2.   On the Goose

3.   Off to Boot Camp and Initial Training

4.   To Submarine School and My First Boat

5.   Dating Derla

6.   Back to San Diego and Marriage

7.   Off to Charleston, South Carolina

8.   Back to Pearl Harbor, Hawaii

9.   Off to San Bernardino and Civilian Life

10. Conclusion

The Beginning

It all started during the winter of 1944 in war-torn Germany. In the city of Liegnitz on the twenty-eighth of February at about 22:00, I was born. At the time, my mother was alone, although living with her father and sisters. Her husband, my father, was presumed dead. He had been a crew member of a German submarine that had been lost at sea. A submarine lost at sea has little chance of any survivors.

My mother’s father, my grandfather, told Mom that she, her baby (me), and her sisters should try to get to southwestern Germany before the Russians arrive. Liegnitz was in far eastern Germany, in what is now Poland. Her father could see the handwriting on the wall. He realized Germany was losing the war and the Russians would most likely control eastern Germany. Fearing the Russian soldiers would commit atrocities against the civilian population, my grandfather wanted Mom, me, and her sisters to be in a much safer place.

Traveling through war-ravaged Germany was very traumatic for Mom and her sisters. They had to evade Russian soldiers, brave air raids, and even endure being strafed by US aircraft while riding on a train. All the while, Mom was trying to take good care of me.

After a few days, they made it to the town of Erding in the south of Germany. There we stayed with Mama Gross, a close family relative. Erding was just south of Munchen (Munich). This ensured that we would be in an area controlled by the Americans. Also, in the Munich area, Mom had a better chance of finding work.

During this time, I became gravely ill, and Mom had extreme difficulty obtaining nutritious food and needed medication for me. Nevertheless, she devoted all her energy and resources trying to obtain what was needed to keep me healthy.

On an afternoon during the winter of 1946, while shopping, Mom was involved in a traffic accident. The streetcar she was riding was hit by a US Army half-track. Fortunately, no one was seriously hurt. However, the German officials and military police had to sort out what had happened. This took some time, allowing a young Sgt. Robert W. Maphis, riding as a passenger in the half-track, to notice Mom. He was infatuated by her. During the weeks and months following the accident, Sergeant Maphis began seeing Mom quite often.

Sgt. Maphis was assigned to the Munich area as a member of the American occupation force. This proved to be a godsend for me. Sgt. Maphis exploited the black market and any other means at his disposal to bring medications and various foods, fruits, and vegetables for Mom and me when he could come for visits. After a few months, I became well, while Mom and Sgt. Maphis fell in love and planned their wedding.

It should be noted that before Sgt. Maphis had advanced to the grade of sergeant, he had been a tail gunner in a B-17 bomber aircraft nicknamed the Flying Fortress. He had made numerous bombing missions over Germany. On several of these bombing missions, he lost many friends and comrades to both enemy aircraft gunfire and flak from ground fire. This explained Sgt. Maphis’s attitude and action toward my real father.

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B-17 Flying Fortress, in which Sgt. Maphis

had been a Tail Gunner

To the surprise of all, my real father had not died at sea. Yes, his submarine had been lost, but he and a few others had escaped drowning and were captured. They spent the remainder of the war in a prison camp. It was almost 1947 before the repatriation of all prisoners was complete. By this time, Mom and Sgt. Maphis were very much in love and married. Therefore, when my real father appeared, my mother and stepfather’s first wedding had to be annulled, and Mom had to get a divorce from her first marriage to my real father. This made Sgt. Maphis very upset to the point that he wanted to kill my real father. With the bombing missions still haunting him, my stepfather viewed my real father as the enemy and a threat to his marriage to Mom. After the situation calmed down, Sgt. Maphis and Mom were remarried on the twenty-eighth of August 1948.

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Sergeant Maphis and Mom’s Marriage in Munich on 8/28/1948

Additionally, the army air corps improved the situation by transferring Sgt. Maphis to Andrews Air Base, outside Washington, DC. Mom and I followed him a month or so later.

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Me, Mom, and Sergeant Maphis in late 1948

Even to this day, I have faint memories of the trip to the United States. Mom and I came to the United States on a transport ship. I remember the man walking down the passageways with a small xylophone playing a little tune when it was mealtime. I also remember being in our cabin during a storm and hearing dishes and such crashing to the floor. It seems our cabin was next to the kitchen.

When we arrived in the United States, we lived in a trailer in a trailer court not far from Andrews Air Force Base. I was about six years old when I almost burned the entire trailer down. You see, Dad had built a small porch for the trailer and had what were the forerunners of lawn chairs and a table on it. One day there were some cardboard boxes left on the porch, and I was playing with matches. Needless to say, the boxes caught fire; the porch would have caught fire had the neighbor not seen what was happening and put out the fire with a garden hose. Boy! Did I get a spanking! Also, during this time, I learned to call Sergeant Maphis, my stepfather, daddy.

We lived in Washington, DC, about two years. Here, Mom became Americanized, and I started school. Because I was not able to speak English, the narrow-minded school teacher told my mother to only speak English at home. My mother was frightened of the teacher and only spoke English as best she could. This was very unfortunate. I learned to speak English quickly, but I forgot all my German, save a few words. Also, my love for Daddy, my stepfather, began to blossom. To this day, I only have fond memories and love for my stepfather. I will always consider him my father.

During my childhood, we moved very often, as Daddy remained in the army air corps, which later became the US Air Force. After Andrews Air Base, we moved to England for a three-year assignment. It was in England in 1953 that my sister Roberta was born. I have very little memories of England. We lived in a row house and had a coal-burning fireplace for heat. From England, Dad was transferred to Castle Air Force Base in Atwater, California.

We were at Castle AFB for almost five years. Dad bought a small three-bedroom, one-bath home on Elm Street. The street number was