(This is part 2 of a multi-part series. You can read part 1 here)
The rocks separating S-27 from Amchikta were tall, almost as tall as the sub’s bridge. The shore was still a distance off, and no one knew if they could even land.
Jukes asked for volunteers to go ashore and see if the crew could safely land with their inflatable raft. One officer and one enlisted man, both experienced swimmers, volunteered.
The two set out, their forms soon swallowed by the fog. It was still night, but the long arctic twilight before sunrise meant that it was slowly getting brighter, even if sunrise was still, technically, three hours away.
Jukes sent another message, but the radiomen improperly coded it. No matter who intercepted it, it would be complete nonsense. Another, properly coded message was sent:
“CANCEL MY NINETEEN SIXTEEN FORTY X WEDGED SOLIDLY ST. MARKIUS REPEAT ST MARKIUS POINT AMCHITKA X PORT SCREW WORKING ON MOTOR BUT MOTOR ROOM EXPECTED TO FLOOD ANY TIME X UNABLE TO BACK OVER ROCKS X BELIEVE CAN BE PULLED CLEAR BY TUG X ALL TANKS DRY X POUNDING IS BAD X AM PREPARED TO ABANDON X HEAVY FOG.”[i]
But now, worrying reports came back from within S-27. Those dry tanks were now leaking.
An hour passed. Then another half. Jukes waited on sending a new message since no one seemed to be listening anyway. For now, he had to organize that which no captain ever wanted to- the abandonment of his first command.
The raft returned. It was a long journey, but once the party maneuvered past the rocks trapping the 27, it was a clear run to a rocky beach. They’d anchored lines on the beach, and as soon as these were attached to the S-27, a stable ferry system could quickly evacuate everyone.
While Jukes still hoped s-27 could be towed off, for his crew’s safety, he ordered evacuation. While they moved provisions, clothes, supplies, and themselves into the “ferry”, Cmdr. Jukes and First Officer Lt. Frank Smith began destroying the secret components of S-27. Though she was far too old to have the latest, greatest gadgets the submarine service would soon be known for, she was still dangerous to leave high and dry where the nearby enemy could find her.
They disassembled the ECM (Electronic Counter Measure), a Typewriter that encoded and decoded messages. The gear wheels were broken and scattered in the deep water around S-27. The typewriter portion itself was smashed with a hammer, and hurled as far into the sea as possible.
There were two sonars stations on S-27, one in the torpedo room and one in the conning tower. These were also smashed with a hammer. The main sonar head, on the keel, had been smashed between S-27’s hull and the rocks already. At least one thing was going in their favor in this mess.
The Mark VIII Torpedo Angle Solver (a forerunner to the Torpedo Data Computer) was a small handheld device, and thrown overboard.
The safes in Officers Country were opened. Reams of confidential documents, manuals, and handbooks were given to the first wave of evacuating crew with orders to use it as kindling. All of it.
The Torpedo Data Approach Tables and Data were so sensitive however, they were burned on board.
Anything that might be classified or even possibly secret, was smashed and destroyed with hammers and tools.[ii]
The shore of Amchitka Island, where the men landed, looked “like a calendar picture of a Maine Coast” according to Herold[iii]. A stony beach ran along the waterline, overshadowed by steep hills and cliffs. The evacuated men built fires with the classified documents and tried to dry themselves and their clothes to prevent hypothermia. It was in the low 40s, and hypothermia could as easily take a man at that temp as it could below freezing.
The sun rose over Amchitka shortly before 8 am.
With the dawn, the men on shore faced the next problem. They figured they were on a south-eastern point of Amchitka, and the only known settlement on Amchitka was on the northern side, the village they’d inspected the day before. But where, precisely, relative to this point? Lt. Lawrence Young, originally from Seattle, set off with five volunteers to find the village. Based on the size of Amchitka, it should only take until early afternoon.
All morning, the rubber raft landed on the shore with a rocky crunch, carrying only 2-3 men, plus supplies,[iv] which had to be organized and piled on the beach, before the raft, with someone on board to guide her back, was pushed back out to S-27. The raft’s pilots had to be careful tying up near their old boat, because as the swells grew, the submarine rolled more violently, and 27 could potentially roll right over the raft and crew.
Aboard the Sinking Sub
Within the boat, the men queued up to evacuate out, and took as many provisions as the small raft would fit along with them. Chief Electrician’s Mate, Arthur Kesner took one last look around the boat before heading to the ferry. “By the afternoon of the nineteenth it was quite a mess…The J.K [Sonar] and Q.C. [Sonar] had all been torn apart and everything was distributed through the control room. Some clothing and provisions were laying around in the control room we couldn’t get off.” [v]
With only 2-3 men able to board each trip, ferry needed around twenty round-trips to evacuate everyone. According to 27’s Navigator and Exec, Lt. Frank Smith, the ride was rough and the men arrived on the beach likely soaked through.
“The last few trips were rough. Waves were breaking all the way across the boat, and would fill it up on the starboard side before you could get it away from the ship.” [vi]
The seas and wind grew more violent as the morning passed, and by noon, with thirty-six of the forty-two man crew onshore, evacuations stopped. In the swells, S-27 was too unstable, twisting and turning. The six who remained aboard were all volunteers: Jukes, Smith, a motormac named Raymond Puglsey, one radioman, and two others.
It turned out that their last transmission had been at least partially received by 27’s command in Alaska. They had sent a reply: “WHAT IS YOUR POSITION X USE SECRET CRYPTO CHANNEL X AMPLIFY REPORT OF SCREWS DISABLED”.[vii]
That had been nearly seven hours ago. Now, everyone knew that it didn’t matter which of the props were working or not, 27 was sinking. Already, her torpedo room, where Herold and Nelly had been sleeping hours before, was filling faster than it could be pumped back out. It had been sealed and abandoned to its fate. The flooding slowly pulled the bow down, raising the stern screws and rudders clear of the surface. Before he’d evacuated to shore, Boatswain Kreuger climbed the rising stern deck and checked the props and rudders. Not only had the starboard screw been damaged, the starboard dive plane had been ripped clean off.[viii] The only thing to do was ask for rescue.
It was now 1:45 pm, local time.
“HEAVY POUNDING CONTINUES X HELPLESS X SEAMS GONE IN BALLAST TANKS X ALL ASHORE EXCEPT SIX X ALL COMPARTMENTS DRY BUT TORPEDO ROOM X WILL STAY UNTIL UNTENABLE X CRYPTO AIDS DESTROYED BUT THIS X WHEN ABANDONED WILL TAKE CREW TO CONSTANTINE HARBOR THIS FREE OF ENEMY ON EIGHTEENTH” [ix]
It was impossible to tell how much of that message would get through. Despite mentioning St Markius Point and Amchitka in the received message, command had asked for position. Who knew how much of that missive had gotten through? Or how much of this one would?
3p.m.: During a short lull in the stormy conditions, three of the six men, the unnamed volunteers, and Moctormac Puglsey, went ashore with more supplies. Now, Jukes, the radioman, plus XO Smith remained near the radio, waiting for a message.
3:30 pm: Time was up. On Jukes’s order, the radioman sent a final message: “DUE TO SEA CONDITIONS AM ABANDONING SHIP. X IF POSSIBLE WILL RETURN TOMORROW OTHERWISE CONSTANTINE” The radio was having trouble maintaining a signal by now, though from within or without was anyone’s guess. The only hope was someone would hear them, and send evacuation to Constantine Harbor.
Lt. Smith remembered leaving S-27 vividly. “…by that time, the waves were breaking all the way across the bow. The last boat, the radioman and myself were in, alongside the conning tower, and the captain hauled it forward to the torpedo room right by the bow to get in the boat so we could leave the ship clear of the rocks. At that time there was very little freeboard on the bow—there was just six to twelve inches with the stern up considerably.” [x]
S-27 was officially abandoned. The crew huddled together in a makeshift “camp” on an unsheltered cove built at the base of a 50 foot cliff. Ammo, supplies and clothes had been neatly stacked on the beach, above the tide. There was good news: there were no injuries. And some “grog” in the coffee certainly helped everyone warm up. [xi]
8 pm: After sixteen hours, Lt. Young and his exploration team finally returned. Amchitka was a featureless plain of rolling tundra, and it was far too easy to get lost. In fact, two men on the expedition had done just that, less than two hours after they left. While they’d been eventually found, the village had not [xii]. The expedition tomorrow would have to try again.
Everyone knew the Japanese were on Kiska, fifty miles away, but they had not checked the northern end of Amchitka. As the sun began its long setting, the men decided, for safety sake despite the possible Japanese presence, the fires would be maintained all night. [xiii] The cove was fairly sheltered from view from the north end of the island, so they would not be seen by any potential Japanese lookouts.
Still, watches had to be set, and followed. Due to the cold, each of the enlisted men on watch would only stand for one hour. The man on watch had to walk up to the top of the cliff for the best view.
Then rain pelted down. It was going to be a miserable night.
The one o’clock watch fell to George Herold. He remembered that hour vividly:
“When I got to the top of the hill it was dark, and I mean DARK. You could hear the breakers down below and also the boat grinding, scraping and banging on the rocks. I called out “Horton” – but not too loud. I had visions of Jap soldiers sleeping in tents all around me. Scott [Horton] was only a few feet away but he must have seen the same movies I did and thought it was a Jap trick. I relieved him and [he] went down by the fires and [I] stayed right there, keeping my eye on those fires until I got relieved.” [xiv]
Into the Wilderness
The next morning, the men decided the Japanese, wherever else they might be, were not on Amchitka. This allowed them to simplify the day: thirty-two headed out to the village, carrying as many supplies on their backs and in their arms as they could. The remaining ten would stand guard over whatever couldn’t be carried.
Amchitka was pure tundra, without a tree or many landmarks at all. The ground was marshy, sucking down the men’s boots as they trudged across the land of moss and lichen. Whatever else may happen, no one was going to get lost today; the men lined themselves in single file, keeping several feet apart from the man in front and behind them. Leaving at 4:30 in the morning, they arrived at the village by 9 am.
It had been a small village even in its “heyday”. Six small cottages surrounding an Orthodox church. The Japanese had bombed the place during the invasion. Three of the houses had been blown apart, and several more bomb craters littered the area. Still, there were three cabins, and a number of underground storage bunkers. Herold and two other guys quickly claimed one of these bunkers, and “lived pretty comfortable, I guess.” Submariners are used to sharing tight quarters, three cabins to forty-two men was probably luxurious.
Inside the cabins, the men discovered a world frozen in time. Herold guessed the villagers had left in a hurry, after Pearl Harbor, for “Utensils of all sorts, kerosene stoves and drums of kerosene were left. Plus school books, all in Russian.” 
Jukes and his officers knew that the men had to be kept busy in order to keep discipline. Fourteen orders were written up and distributed, organizing the camp, the watch rotations, the kitchen duties. The sentries were armed with all the small arms removed from the 27, and one was posted in the belfry of the Orthodox Church, with orders to ring the bell if he saw anything.
With camp established, Jukes and some men, headed back to the cove. He had to inspect S-27, and see if any more supplies could be moved.
Meanwhile, back at Headquarters…
After no further messages from the S-27 were received, Taskforce 8.5, of which S-27 and her sister subs were part, took action. June’s records of TASKFORCE 8, records the following entry, at midnight, June 22:
“IMPORTANT RADIO MESSAGE FROM S-27 INTERCEPTED SINCE 16 HOURS ZED [4p.m, local time] 19TH X SAIL TWENTY SEVEN BELIEVED TO BE AGROUND ON AMCHITKA ISLAND OR SEMISOPHOCHNOI ISLAND X INVESTIGATE AND REPORT X S-18 AMCHITKA X S-35 SEMISOPOCHNOI X S-28 NORTH COAST TANAGA KANAGA AND ADAK ISLANDS BUT TO DO NOT ENTER UNCHARTED WATERS X”
By the next morning, the three subs were underway, but foul weather kept most of them from being able to see anything. The S-18, in particular, arrived on the northwest tip of Amchitka Island from June 23, to June 25, (Constantine Harbor adn “Camp S-27” were on the northeast corner). Like her sisters, S-18 couldn’t see through the weather.
Among the men who re-boarded the 27 on the 21st, was Boatswain Kreuger, but the submarine hadn’t improved. “I noticed air bubbles leaking out of the ballast tanks and I also know that the torpedo room was flooded because I looked through the eye port from the forward battery compartment. …right after I was up in the torpedo room the captain came aboard and found chlorine gas in the forward battery, which would indicate that the forward battery well was punctured.” [xv]
The torpedoes on S-27 were a double danger. Though they were secured on their racks and within their tubes, per regulations, as 27 rolled and bashed herself apart, they could come loose from their racks and tubes, potentially leading to an explosion.
On the other hand, once abandoned, if the Japanese found S-27, and were able to salvage the torpedoes, they would know the capabilities of the American torpedoes. Either way, there was little Jukes could do right now.
When 27 had first grounded, the torpedomen bled off some of the high pressure on the torpedoes. Later, when saving herself looked impossible, they considered multiple ways to get the torpedoes off the boat, but 27’s unpredictable and violent thrashing made safe handling impossible. Even the four primed in the torpedo tubes could not be fired, in case they hit a rock too close and blew the boat herself apart. When evacuation had been ordered, the torpedo crew strapped down the tin fish in place, hoping for the best after rescue. [xvi]
Now underwater, there was nothing to be done without a derrick, at the very least.
There was no messages, no help known coming.
Jukes decided to sleep the night on the shore camp, come back one more day, then abandon 27 completely for Constantine.
When he returned on June 22, with a couple other crewmen, 27 had disintegrated even further. Plates could be heard rattling and striking against each other as she rolled: whole seams had popped open. One of the crewmen noticed something ominous: the auxiliary intake valve over the battery compartment had popped open from its sealed seat. The highly explosive chlorine gas in the punctured battery well had filled and pressurized the battery compartment and officer’s country over it. [xvii] She was an explosion waiting to happen.
The rest of the submarine, however, was still dry. Landing was nearly impossible, since the seas freely broke across 27’s deck at the conning tower, the only place they could land. Jukes made the call to seal each hatch and leave.
Jukes, Kreuger and the remaining men took the final supplies and headed to Constantine Harbor.
Now, it would be a waiting game.
 THE Previous, improperly coded message
 According to modern charts, the sunrise would have happened around 6:37 am. However, this is by Hawaii time, the time zone Amchitka is geographically located in. The S-27 was likely using Alaska time zone for their record keeping, which may explain this discrepancy. (Sunrise and Set times, Amchitka Island, June 1944)
 Amchitka went through cycles of human habitation and abandonment. The village and church the 27’s came across had been founded in the 1850’s and vanished off the records after 1867. Later, another village, the one the crew found, had been founded around 1925 to house the summer fox trapping population. A Smithsonian expedition reached this abandoned village and took numerous photos of the archaeological expeditions around Amchikta in 1938
[i] (US Navy Records, 1942)Appendix to Narrative: Messages Sent and Received.
[ii] Jukes, Harold; The Narrative of What Happened to s-27, pg. 4
[iii] the First and Last Patrol of S-27 (Herold, 1989)
[iv] Interview with George Herold and Harry Suomi, transcript, pg 8
[v] Testimony of Arthur Kesner, Investigation into the Loss of USS S-27, pgs. 24-25
[vi] Testimony of Lt. Frank Smith, Investigation into the Loss of USS S-27 , pg 5
[vii] Appendix to Narrative, Copies of Messages Sent and received on June 19, 1942, US Navy
[viii] Testimony of Boatswain Kreuger, Investigation into the Loss of S-27. Pgs17-22
[x] Testimony of Lt. Frank Smith, Investigation into the Loss of USS S-27, Pg. 5
[xi] Herold, George, the first and only patrol os SUS S-27, 1989
[xii] Deck Log, USS S0-27, 19 June, 1942
[xiii] Jukes, Herold, Narrative 1942
[xiv] Herold, George, the first and only patrol os SUS S-27, 1989
[xv] Testimony of Boatswain Kreuger, Investigation into the Loss of S-27, pgs 17-22
[xvi] Testimony of Lt Cmdr Herold Jukes, Investigation into the Loss of S-27. Pg 43
[xvii] Testimony of Boatswain Kreuger, Investigation into the Loss of S-27, pgs 17-22