Henry Breault: Construction of a naval hero

Abstract

United States Navy sailors are excellent subjects for personal microhistories due to the volume of surviving official documentation in the form of their Official Military Personnel Files. This article deconstructs a grand narrative surrounding Henry Breault, the only enlisted sailor to receive his Medal of Honor while serving aboard a submarine. Breault experienced contemporary enshrinement, a long period of sporadic interest, and a later iconographic construction into a submarine folk hero in the present day. Breault has come to represent unnamed submariners, who are expected to perform in the same fashion with no expectation of similar commendation. It is found that Breault is still representative of sailors, but as an ordinary man who acted in an extraordinary manner when circumstance required. The methodology provides insight into Breault's relationship and connection to greater society as a submariner and as a highly decorated sailor in the interwar period.

Introduction

On 28 October 1923, Torpedoman's Mate Second Class Henry Breault was underway on the USS O-5, transiting from the Atlantic side of the Panama Canal to participate in fleet exercises in the Pacific. ¹ At 6.24 a.m., the O-5 was hit by the Abangarez of the United Fruit Company, pinching a hole in the hull that sank the O-5. Most accounts agree the sinking occurred in less than a minute. ² Breault was in the torpedo room at the time of the collision and managed to make it topside:

upon reaching the hatch, he saw that the boat was rapidly sinking. Instead of jumping overboard to save his own life, he returned to the torpedo room to the rescue of a shipmate whom he knew was trapped in the boat. ³

Breault secured the hatch as he went back down to find Chief Electrician's Mate Lawrence Brown, who was unaware of the severity of the collision. ⁴ The pair attempted to escape, when that failed, they moved to the torpedo room and managed to close the watertight door before the battery compartment exploded and the ship settled underwater. ⁵ Brown recalled in an interview with a newspaper reporter from the United Press Association:

Breault and I separated to pound on each of the boat's sides. In this way, the rescuers would know that were two of us. Breault played a kind of tune with his hammer, indicating to the diver that we were in good shape and cheerful. Neither of us knew Morse Code. We had no food or water, and only a flashlight. We were confident we could stay alive for forty-eight hours. ⁶

Submariners were aware of the potential issues of submarine escape, outlining them as early as 1910, but there was no established procedure to rescue them in a disabled submarine resting seven fathoms deep on the bottom. ⁷ Brown and Breault were thankfully in shallow water, but their active role ended; they had to wait for 31 hours as the Canal community made efforts to rescue them. ⁸ Once safe, it became evident that Breault's decision saved Brown's life. ⁹ When asked why he stayed on-board instead of jumping for safety, Breault stated simply: ‘I wanted to stay and help, if I could’. ¹⁰ On 8 March 1924, Breault was awarded the Medal of Honor by President Calvin Coolidge during a ceremony in Washington, DC, enshrining him as the first submariner to receive the award.

I learned this story as a young, aspiring submariner in Basic Enlisted Submarine School when visiting the Submarine Force Library and Museum in Groton, Connecticut. This narrative, conveyed by an exhibit among the other submariner Medals of Honor, reflects the knowledge of the average submariner in the present day. ¹¹ Breault's narrative is the result of a construction to build his story into a lesson of what is expected of the junior enlisted and an early introduction to a story of heroic sacrifice. Observing a sailor receive a prestigious award is intended to instill the impression that Breault's decision was the proper action, reinforcing the mentality that should be adopted by a junior sailor of selfless sacrifice in the face of danger. ¹² Breault embodied the ‘ship, shipmate, self’ mentality that is instilled in enlisted sailors early in their careers. ¹³ The construction of the narrative was not a linear process. Breault’s award enshrined him, but he was forgotten as American submariners who had served in the Second World War anchored the service throughout the Cold War. ¹⁴

The iconographic construction of Breault as a submarine hero did not immediately occur in the aftermath of his award; rather, it was deliberately revived to serve a didactic intent that reinforced conceptions of military sacrifice and selfless heroics. ¹⁵ Before further exploration of the primary sources involving Breault's life, such as Breault's Official Military Personnel File, Internet newspaper archives and synthesizing existing research, understanding the Medal of Honor in the context of the award period and the motivations of those perpetuating his story, both past and present, is necessary. This article surveys three periods in Breault's story – contemporary enshrinement (1923–1940), enshrined but forgotten (1941–1999) and iconographic renaissance (1999–present) – focusing primarily on the iconographic-construction process.

Historiography

There are three primary threads of historiography this article will interact with. The subject of Henry Breault is sufficiently constrained to be termed a ‘microhistorical’ subject – one that focuses on a primary figure as a vehicle through which to explore the period in question. The second thread involves the evolution of conceptions and historical understanding of awards such as the Medal of Honor, particularly how they influence collective remembrance and reflect societal values. The third thread is the study of sailors in the interwar period – the period between American involvement in the World Wars that is often forgotten. The methodology synthesizes the strands for a view of the iconographic construction engaged in by both the contemporary and present-day actors building Breault's story.

Microhistory

Carlo Ginzburg discusses the origin of the term ‘microhistory’ in his article ‘Microhistory: Two or Three Things That I Know about It’. ¹⁶ He identifies that the earliest employment of the term ‘microhistory’ was by American scholar George R. Stewart. Stewart wrote the book Pickett’s Charge: A Microhistory of the Final Charge at Gettysburg, July 3, 1863 in 1959, a focused historical lens that emphasizes Pickett's Charge as one of the most important events in world history. ¹⁷ Ginzburg is somewhat dismissive of Stewart's work, arguing that Cleopatra's nose could be a subject of Stewart's microhistory, while offering a contrast to this focused temporal approach by introducing the work of Luis Gonzalez, which Ginzburg utilizes to convey the range of potential microhistorical precursors to his work. ¹⁸ Ginzburg further emphasizes that the Italian microhistorians, such as Giovanni Levi and himself, sought to create a ‘self-portrait’ rather than a ‘group-portrait’. ¹⁹ Ginzburg admits that, despite his best efforts, this proved too tall an order, calling the boundaries ‘porous’ rather than distinct. ²⁰ While not one of the Italian microhistorians, Sigurður Gylfi Magnússon also attempted a similar study, urging ‘scholars to look at the sources they have, and to do their utmost not to be drawn into the grand narrative, which will govern their interpretation of the subject’. ²¹ Magnússon admits as Ginzburg previously admitted, divorcing the subject from the group proves to be a difficult task. Magnússon emphasizes understanding how the self-portrait interacts with the group portrait, rather than focusing on one to the detriment of the other. ²²

John Brewer identifies that the extensive work of microhistorians roughly corresponds to two categories, which he borrows from humanist geographer Jay Appleton: prospect methodology and refuge methodology. Prospect methodology is an indirect bird's-eye view that the reader is separate from, while refuge methodology is centred on actors as a subject rather than an object and emphasizes ‘interdependence … interiority and intimacy’. ²³ This article employs aspects of refuge history, using Breault's iconographic construction as vehicle through which we can understand the motivations of those who constructed his story. This approach is controversial, and close to biography, but Jill LePore argues that it offers a solution to the ‘perils of writing about people’. ²⁴ Lepore offers that microhistory can resurrect those with sparse information at the cost of those who left sufficient records. ²⁵ Breault's story, in this case, is well recorded due to his status as a Medal of Honor recipient, but not all Medal of Honor recipients are remembered with equal vigour, allowing the possibility for the other submarine recipients to retain their prestige while adding new emphasis to studies on enlisted sailors, lending Breault's prestige as a Medal of Honor recipient to help understand how sailors could have interacted with contemporary American society.

The Medal of Honor

The Medal of Honor is a prestigious American award on a par with the British Victoria Cross as the highest military honour the United States can grant. Originating during the American Civil War, 3,530 awards have been granted, of which 2,074 were granted prior to 1900. ²⁶ From 1919 to 1940, 15 Medals of Honor were awarded to 15 individuals from the United States Navy. Of this total, nine were enlisted and six were officers. ²⁷ Dwight S. Mears argues that the Medal of Honor of the interwar period should not be considered the same award as that granted today, with the Navy focusing on enlisted sailors and non-combatants, rather than its usual emphasis on awarding senior officers. ²⁸ The submarine fleet would see seven more awarded to their number during the Second World War, all submarine captains, enshring a new generation of war-time heroes.

Joseph A. Blake and Suellen Butler argue the intention of awarding the honour was to perpetuate the continued division between the enlisted and officers, reflecting a latent dual role structure in the military. ²⁹ Their evidence suggests that the divide is not necessarily between officer and enlisted, but a war-winning/soldier-saving dichotomy, which the Medal of Honor is used to reinforce. ³⁰ Blake and Butler state that while it is possible for the trend to not be determinative, within thewar-winning/soldier-saving dichotomy, war-winning Medals of Honor were largely awarded to officers and soldier-saving to the enlisted. ³¹ The study stems from a claim made in 1975 that those receiving a war-winning Medal of Honor were more likely to be alive to receive the award, while those receiving a soldier-saving Medal of Honor were much more likely to receive the medal posthumously. ³² Only 25 per cent of those ranked O–3 and above received the award posthumously, while 81.8% of those ranked E1–E5 received the award posthumously. ³³ This analysis, written at the tail end of the Vietnam War, should be viewed as characteristic of the disillusionment caused by the conflict in American society, but has an excellent analysis which suggests that Breault is an example of a sailor-saving Medal of Honor recipient.

Blake and Butler's analysis suggests that this latent dual structure is reinforced by action, while Richard Lachmann and Abby Stivers similarly examine how this structure is enshrined by non-material awards that reinforce military conceptions of role. ³⁴ Breault's perception and narrative are influenced by present-day perceptions of the award, falling within a trend that Lachmann and Stivers identify is in line with more than a ‘century of revaluation, clarification, and tightening,' as the Medal of Honor became ‘the principal symbol, and its recipients the highest embodiments, of bravery’. ³⁵ Lachmann and Stivers suggest that enshrinement is intentional and part of a continuing dialogue with an ever-changing civilian culture. ³⁶ The Medal of Honor in particular attracts attention in popular culture and media, such as the video games that were popularized in the same period as Breault's renaissance occurred. ³⁷ Both the past and current perceptions of the Medal of Honor have played a role in the award. Remaining cognizant of this duality throughout the construction process helps understand the motivations of those involved in Breault's story.

These studies are useful to illustrate perception, but they focus on the Army rather than the Navy. Both are limited in understanding Navy Medals of Honor, but Mears notes that the Navy, despite Army prohibitions, rewarded non-combatants’ ‘extraordinary heroism’ throughout the interwar period, making the 15 Navy Medal of Honor recipients an unusually egalitarian sample for the service. ³⁸ Of the 15 Navy Medals of Honor in the interwar period, only Breault's award corresponded to a sailor directly in the submarine service. ³⁹ First-hand accounts are scarce in this period, Second World War sailors have been the best recorded. The scarcity of first-hand accounts in this period can be rectified by using a Medal of Honor recipient who received attention due to their status. Breault's life can serve as a vehicle to challenge popular conceptions of the United States Navy, the Roaring Twenties, the Great Depression and the role of the submarine fleet prior to the Second World War. Breault acts as a sailor-saving junior enlisted sailor, recipients who would become increasingly scarce in communities that did not see direct combat. ⁴⁰

The Second World War sparked a return to the old status quo, favouring awards to senior officers. Seven submarine captains were awarded to represent a new generation of heroes. Due to the unique motivations of the interwar period, present Navy policy and statutory prohibitions preventing non-combatant awards, Breault will likely remain the only enlisted Medal of Honor submariner for actions performed aboard a submarine in the line of duty. Breault's unique case makes him a symbol for the nameless submariners who have performed their duties without the accolades or prestige afforded to the war-winning actions of Second World War submarine Medals of Honor. ⁴¹

Sailors in the interwar period (a ‘violent peace’)

Enlisted sailors in the United States Navy receive little attention in any era, and American society has a fascination with the Second World War and officers. Any accounts that occurred in close proximity to the Second World War have been overshadowed and forgotten as the major conflict has captured the public imagination. Evidence of the men who served at this pivotal time in naval developments, especially those on submarines, is scarce. The research into submarine history has been conducted primarily (though by no means exclusively) by former submariners themselves. ⁴² Stephen L. Jackson wrote The Men, one of the finest analytical works to focus exclusively on enlisted sailors through interviews and letters available in archives. ⁴³ Jackson's focus is primarily on the first-hand accounts and letters of his subjects, with bits of analysis woven within their narratives. A structuralist analysis as the conclusion, which identifies trends, common convergences and the motivations of his subjects, is present to tie the work neatly together. ⁴⁴ The primary focus on Second World War sailors is merited, but Jackson also has several subjects who served prior to the outbreak of the war, such as Robert Burr and George O. Jones. ⁴⁵ The methodology employed by Jackson stresses first-hand accounts, a luxury that will not be afforded to research into Breault's life, which necessitates increased usage of indirect sources such as newspapers and his Official Military Personnel File.

Sailors of all ranks have not been shy in publishing memoirs or answerin interviewers in collections by researchers such as Jackson. ⁴⁶ These accounts were canvassed for mentions of the stories that inspired the sailors to enlist or heroes they looked up to. Many of these are not analytical history but still have useful information from first-hand accounts, although they can be limited to interest in Second World War operations. In many cases, submariners known during or prior to service were mentioned as inspiration for those who volunteered, indicating that a robust submarine culture existed before the war but did not include individual heroes outside of a personal circle. ⁴⁷

One of the most important contributions to the historiography of the United States submarine fleet comes from Joel Holwitt's ‘Execute against Japan’, which analyses the development of United States Navy submarine doctrine and strategy, specifically addressing the question of how the Navy came to a decision to execute unrestricted submarine warfare. ⁴⁸ Holwitt's study has a top-down focus, he analyses decision-making from the upper echelons of political and naval power, never intending to address the enlisted sailors of the period. Matthew Heaslip's focus is also on higher-ranking officials and doctrine, but he includes considerations of enlisted sailors, such as Rear Admiral William Boyle voicing concern that ordinary seamen found raiding villages unpopular and damaging to morale. ⁴⁹ Heaslip even discusses how sailors interacted with Shanghai and its environs, including accounts of sailors’ interactions with the local nightlife. ⁵⁰ Heaslip was not a submariner but he introduces the concept of a ‘violent peace’ into naval affairs outside of Eastern Europe – primarily, the Royal Navy's involvement in China. Breault requested to serve in the Asiatic theatre, completing at least two tours on two different vessels, and being awarded the Yangtze River Medal for his service in the region. ⁵¹ For men such as Breault, who were in a wartime environment, this was not a sleepy era with little innovation, but a violent era within a period of nominal peace.

Contemporary enshrinement: 1923–1941

Corresponding to Breault's career from 1920 to 1941, early American submarine culture developed into a distinct entity with its own customs, symbols and career paths – one that emphasized its separation from the norms of the greater United States Navy. The Second World War would solidify the submarine fleet as a major component of the present-day United States Navy, but many of the processes, practices and work cultures that made the submarine fleet unique developed prior to the war. Artefacts such as the submarine-warfare device, formalized in 1924, would develop into major symbols. Submarine officers would become part of the naval bureaucracy, as prior submariners such as Ernest J. King and Chester W. Nimitz would guide the United States Navy through the Second World War. The expectation of the present-day reader would be that Breault's name would become synonymous with submarine service as a living legend. Surprisingly, there was little effort put into utilizing Breault's heroism for that purpose. The exact process of how and why Breault received the Medal of Honor offers insights into the motivations of those who approved the medal, which are not in line with the expected thesis of Blake and Butler.

Award process

Surprisingly, there is little evidence to suggest Breault had agency in the telling of his own story. No official statements were recorded in his Official Military Personnel File on the subject and only one letter has been identified as being from him. The only reason this letter is available today is its publication in the New York Times:

Just a line to let you know that I am still alive. You have no doubt read about the sinking of the submarine. We were down there for hours and had no food … I sure was a sick boy but am well now. I have been out helping to raise the submarine. She is all right except the central control room where she was struck. The craft will soon be in condition again. But some of the crew will never go down in a submarine again. Fortunately it did not bother me at all. ⁵²

Without the original letter, it is impossible to know with absolute certainty whether it was unabridged or written by Breault. The letter was allegedly provided by his mother to the newspaper, which raises questions of authenticity. ⁵³ Breault's biological mother died in 1913. It is therefore unlikely that the letter was addressed to her. His father, Joseph J. Breault, remarried, so it is possible this letter was addressed to his stepmother, Mary, and indicates a healthy relationship between the two. ⁵⁴

There is no clarity without an original letter and complications suggest this was a potential embellishment. There are a few indications to suggest Breault suffered a degree of estrangement from his immediate family prior to enlisting. On Breault's initial enlistment paperwork, he named his next of kin as his ‘friend’, L. R. B. Hale from Grand Isle, Vermont. ⁵⁵ Hale's inclusion is unusual. Most usually put a close family member and it would be the only time in his enlistment paperwork that a member of his family was not the next of kin. ⁵⁶ In the immediate aftermath of the accident, many wrote to the Bureau of Navigation asking if Breault could have been their lost loved one – one of these letters was written by Mary Breault, identified as Mrs J. J. Brault. ⁵⁷ This letter could be used as evidence to support the authenticity of the New York Times letter, with the Breault family reunited over correspondence in the aftermath of the incident. The letter from Mary Breault to the Bureau of Navigation had the same address that Breault would update his home of record to on his next enlistment, indicating that the Breault family did receive the forwarding address and managed to send a letter. A month turnaround time is not in question, nor would it be surprising if Breault wanted to reconnect with his family after a near-death experience. Alternatively, it supports the estrangement thesis by suggesting that he had little or no prior correspondence with his family. This letter appears to be authentic but must be used with caution from its origin within a newspaper.

There is little other surviving evidence to suggest Breault spoke much about his time or made any official statements. One of the few snippets comes from the United Press Association, when he was asked why he stayed on-board instead of jumping overboard for safety. According to the reporter, Breault stated that, before losing consciousness, ‘I didn't know whether there was anybody inside or not, and if there was, I wanted to stay and help, if I could’. ⁵⁸ Breault's Official Military Personnel File offers the diagnosis that he was suffering from caisson disease. ⁵⁹ Further, Breault was surrounded by people asking numerous questions. This report should not be considered inviolable as the statement was conveyed second-hand and reported by a newspaper while he was dazed, dehydrated and airsick. The possibility that the quote was an embellishment, added to sell a story of bravery and heroism, should be considered as well.

Considering the errors seen in other newspapers, such as misreporting Breault's age (19 instead of 23), misspelling his name (Berault as opposed to Breault) or even accusing him of being three days late for his own award ceremony, the story suffered from no shortage of errors or embellishments. ⁶⁰ In a contemporary analysis, Jeanette M. Collins included five of the O-5 articles from various newspapers in her thesis ‘Style in the New Story’. ⁶¹ Submitted to the University of Wisconsin in 1924, Collins argued that ‘someone's blue pencil got tired’; she accused many of the newspapers of sloppy editing. ⁶² Collins’ criticism serves as evidence that newspapers sought to deliver the story quickly, indicating an interest in submarines, the disaster and the rescue of the entombed sailors. Despite this interest, there is little to suggest that Breault had a major role in promoting his story either before or after his award.

Lawrence Brown

The primary account of the rescue did not belong to Breault but to the other sailor who was trapped beneath the waves who he rescued, Chief Electrician's Mate Lawrence Brown. Brown did not suffer from caisson disease. He stayed to recount the story to the United Press Association, and it was then reprinted by other newspapers. ⁶³ Julius Grigore summarizes this well, but the primary reporter for the United Press Association, Paul Seymour, conveyed Brown's story. ⁶⁴ Brown states that he was resting before his watch when he felt the crash from the Abangarez. Despite knowing it was a rough hit, he stayed until Breault woke him up: ‘We both went into the torpedo room, closing the door behind us. The boat sank in thirty seconds, settling in forty feet of water at an angle of 70 degrees to starboard’. ⁶⁵ It is surprising that Brown did not hear any communications, but the only known order was heard from Captain Card of the Abangarez just prior to the collision, given verbally topside or from the bridge. ⁶⁶ Since Brown was sound asleep, it is possible he may not have heard the verbal order to abandon ship.

Finding themselves trapped in a compartment with 12 inches of water, holding fast to a ladder in a compartment with only a flashlight for illumination, Brown recalled that ‘the first hour was the hardest’. Forty-five minutes after the collision, the O-5's batteries caught fire, heating the compartment; it must have felt like they were in a veritable hot seat. With no food or potable water, the pair remained optimistic that they could survive for 48 hours, and that a crane would be able to lift them to safety before that time expired. After three hours, it became clear, once they heard the activity, that the Panama Canal community was working to make their rescue a reality. The pair split up, with Breault moving as far aft as he could go, while Brown went forward with a hammer or blunt object to bang on the hull, alerting them that they were still alive. Brown recalled: ‘Breault played with the hammer to indicate we were in good shape’. ⁶⁷

The first attempt at the hoist was estimated at the 12-hour mark. While the attempt failed, it did level the boat from an awkward angle, allowing for easier movement and comfort. As they rose on the third attempt, Brown recalled that the last 20 minutes were ‘terrible’; Breault estimated the pressure was between 25 and 50 pounds. ⁶⁸ The doctors treating him disputed these numbers, deciding they were unlikely, but agreed that the two men had been subjected to high pressure in the compartment. ⁶⁹ The ship broke the water, and the workers rapidly came to open a hatch to let the men escape; ‘[t]hen we heard the water splashing over the top, and our comrades walking on the deck, and we knew we were up. Breault opened the hatch and the light was so bright I could not find my way up’. ⁷⁰

Brown ‘seemed no worse for wear’, according to Seymour, and he was in a lucid enough state to retell the story. ⁷¹ Brown's account became the primary account of the duo by chance, as he was the one who was unafflicted and conscious enough to answer inquires. Brown's decision to focus the spotlight on Breault is indicative of leadership, being unsparing in praise when merited. Brown fully credited his rescue to Breault and the diver Sheppard Shreaves, offering only his viewpoint and eschewing any self-aggrandizement (he should serve as an inspiration for all chiefs). Likely among the audience was the O-5's commanding officer, Lieutenant Harrison Avery.

Lieutenant Harrison Avery

It was Lieutenant Avery who began the award process, recommending Breault for a Navy Cross. After dealing with the aftermath of the collision and likely conducting an investigation, Avery submitted his recommendation on 19 November 1923, citing Article 1709 of the 1920 Navy Regulation Book as a reference. ⁷² Avery argued that the complete disregard for his own safety displayed Breault’s devotion to duty, which he believed to be in accordance with the ‘best traditions of the Navy’. ⁷³ Avery's recommendation contains much of the original language used to describe Breault's actions and is considered to be the closest to a true retelling of events. Avery was a first-hand witness to the rescue events, likely interviewed Brown and Breault in the immediate aftermath, and probably had a good knowledge of the trustworthiness of the pair under his command. The recommendation reads as follows:

1. In view of the extraordinary heroism displayed by Breault, H., TM2c [Torpedoman's Mate Second Class], when the O-5 was sunk in collision with the S.S. ABANGAREZ, it is earnestly recommended that the above named man be awarded the Navy Cross.

2. The following is a history of the extraordinary heroism displayed by Breault:

At 6:24 on the morning of October 28, the O-5 collided with the S.S. ABANGAREZ, and sank in less than one minute. Breault at the time of the collision was in the torpedo room. As soon as the collision occurred he went up the torpedo room hatch and looked out on deck. Upon his arrival at the top of the hatch he saw the boat was sinking very fast and instead of jumping overboard as a number of the crew had already done, thereby trying to save his own life, he went back to the torpedo room, closed the torpedo room hatch on himself, and he assisted Brown, another member of the crew who had been trapped in the boat, to close the water-tight door between the forward battery compartment and the torpedo room. By the time this door was closed the boat had sunk in forty feet of water with every compartment flooded except the torpedo room. Breault and Brown remained trapped in this compartment until they were rescued thirty-one hours later by the salvage party. During this time their efforts were concentrated on stopping leaks between the forward battery and the torpedo room.

3. The conduct displayed by Breault by casting all personal safety aside when he saw that the O-5 was sinking fast and going below to close the torpedo room hatch and even closing same while water was coming into the compartment showed that his devotion to duty was of the highest order. The Commanding Officer therefore earnestly recommends that he be awarded a Navy Cross in recognition of this action, so in keeping with the best traditions of the Navy.

H. Avery (Signed) ⁷⁴

Why did Avery select the Navy Cross and not the Medal of Honor? Avery may not have been authorized to recommend the higher award – while he was the commanding officer, he was still only a lieutenant. Regardless of the reason, the Navy Cross is incredibly prominent. Breault was likely excited to hear that he was recommended for such an award. This important step built on Brown's account. The story of the O-5 was no longer a sea story restricted to the Panama Canal community or submariner circles, but now in the hands of high-ranking officers as they expressed their concurrence or made further recommendations.

Rear Admiral Montgomery M. Taylor

Avery forwarded his recommendation to the Commander of Submarine Division Eight, R. H. English. English reviewed it and forwarded the recommendation toCommander of the Submarine Force, A. Bronson . They both concurred with Avery's assessment on 23 November 1923, and forwarded their recommendations to the Control Force Commander, Rear Admiral Montgomery M. Taylor. These officers, in agreeing with the initial assessment, showed faith in Avery's ability to commend the men under his command appropriately – something the young officer likely needed as affirmation in the wake of the collision. Further, English and Bronson were likley aware of Breault and Brown's rescue already, they were stationed on the flagship in the area and were likely receiving reports on the crew. ⁷⁵ They did not choose to dissent, giving their recommendations to continue the award through the chain of command, which allowed Taylor to receive the award recommendation.

Taylor agreed, but felt that the Navy Cross was insufficient as the final person before reaching the Secretary of the Navy, he was the last opportunity on the military side to upgrade Breault's award. Taylor's recommendation reads:

1. Forwarded.

2. The Commander Control Force is of the opinion that the unusual heroic conduct of Breault and his devotion to duty, particularly in that he almost surely saved Brown's life at the risk of his own and in that his devotion to duty saved a [considerable] loss of Government property, deserves recognition. Accordingly, it is requested that Breault be recommended for the Congressional Medal of Honor.

M. M. Taylor (signed) ⁷⁶

While Taylor was not the originator, his recommendation to award the Medal of Honor superseded all of the other recommendations and changed the nature of the award. If Breault had received the Navy Cross, he may not be remembered with the same level of vigour as he is today, as the Navy Cross does not command the same level of attention as the Medal of Honor. Occurring seldomly, overriding subordinate officers is done judiciously, and it is unlikely Avery would have objected to a higher award for Breault. The impression Breault's story made on Taylor is evident. He was willing to upgrade the award and would also be in attendance at the small ceremony on 8 March 1924. ⁷⁷ The Secretary of the Navy concurred with the assessment that awarding a Medal of Honor was merited and in accordance with Article 1707 1920 Navy Regulation Book and drafted General Order No. 125. ⁷⁸ Breault's award was a reality, which only needed to be fleshed out in accordance with the regulations, which required that the award ‘shall always be made with formal and impressive ceremony’. ⁷⁹ There are four pictures surviving of the event taken by an unknown photographer. ⁸⁰ In the background, Taylor can be seen smiling almost as broadly as Breault in the pictures, understanding the bravery of the man before him.

Post-award publicity

A few pieces of evidence potentially indicate that naval leaders planned to utilize Breault's Medal of Honor to assist in building the identity of the submarine force. One is from Breault's Official Military Personnel File, dated 26 November 1924, when the officer in charge of the recruiting station in Brooklyn where Breault re-enlisted requested ‘his picture and an account of his valor’ for the expressed purpose of ‘splendid publicity’ in the local newspapers. ⁸¹ Two photographs from the award ceremony and General Order No. 125 were forwarded from the Bureau of Navigation to the recruiting station on 8 December 1924. ⁸² Breault's award was further reported by newspapers, with less attention devoted to his award ceremony than accounts of his heroism.

Outside of the loss of the O-5 and his Medal of Honor ceremony, the recruiter's understanding of the utility of building Breault into a naval hero appears to be an outlier. Rather, the praise of Brown, Avery and Taylor indicates they were sincerely impressed by Breault's bravery and felt he was deserving of a major award. This is odd for a service that had begun defining itself, but assuming that the attempt to build up Breault's public reputation or make him a living legend in the Navy would be misunderstanding the Medal of Honor in context, it would not achieve that status until after the Second World War. ⁸³ Breault became respected well enough that many of his special requests for duty stations were granted, and his advancement to Torpedoman First Class was the result of Captain Koch's willingness to eschew guidelines in his favour. ⁸⁴ A few newspapers, such as the San Pedro News Pilot, honoured him indirectly in 1935 by mentioning him as one of only two active-duty enlisted sailors to have received the prestigious award, but overall there were few identified reports prior to his death. ⁸⁵ Potentially due to a combination of his enlisted status, the other Medal of Honor recipients enshrined for aviation and diving accomplishments, the negative perception of submarines, or his time in the Asiatic theatre, Breault became a forgotten hero in his lifetime.

Enshrined but forgotten: 1941–1999

Breault's story was further displaced by the submariners who served during the Second World War. Those who continued to serve preferred to build their identity by utilizing wartime recipients, who were all submarine captains. The focus on officers rather than the enlisted is not unusual. These men earned their awards by playing an identity-defining role, defeating Japanese shipping. Explicit mention of Breault's story is lacking in the accounts collected in Paul Stillwell's Submarine Stories and Mark K. Roberts’ Sub, but praise for sailors who served during the Second World War could be found in nearly every account. ⁸⁶ For Cold Warriors like Ted Dubay, author of Three Knots to Nowhere, Breault was not a part of their identity:

I do not recall hearing about Henry Breault when I attended Submarine School in 1969. In fact, I don't remember any formal presentation on submariner legacy, in sub school or during my time in the Navy. I also think this is true for other submariners of my era. The beginning of my time in the service overlapped the end of the careers of WWII [Second World War] submarine veterans. Breault's incident happened 20 years before WWII. As brave as he was, I believe many WWII submariners performed equally heroic actions during the war. These in turn would have overshadowed what he did. In fact, I think there were so many courageous acts during WWII that they were considered what was expected. In the case of Breault, submarines were still essentially a new phenomenon and an act such as his would have stood out. One other thought. My time in the service was way before the Internet. That means accessing information was much more difficult. Any information about Breault would not have been readily accessible, even for determined individuals. ⁸⁷

This disconnect in legacy was exacerbated by the 1963 statutory guidlines codified in law to prohibit the award to non-combatants and the classified nature of submarine operations during the Cold War ensured there was a dearth of known submarine heroes enshrined by awards or press.

In this period, there were three indications of increased interest in Breault's story: a Navy Times artwork and two articles by Grigore. The Navy Times artwork, drawn by artist and army veteran Mario DeMarco for the 27 October 1956 edition, utilized Breault's story as inspiration for a series known as ‘The Highest Honor’, which attempted to share knowledge of Medal of Honor recipients. ⁸⁸ This dramatized version of Breault's rescue of Brown was the artist’s interpretation and has inconsistencies. Brown was an active participant once he understood the scope of the disaster and was not unconscious or prone in the water. There are no accounts of the torpedo room being flooded beyond 12 inches and they were trapped for 31 hours, not the three hours the artist mistakenly attributes. ⁸⁹ Nonetheless, the artist and the publication wished to display the actions of Breault with high regard, reflecting the message for the audience of enlisted sailors that this was an action that was worthy of emulation. DeMarco took inspiration from previous periods to appeal to an enlisted audience as the focus of the Navy returned to awarding senior officers, and illustrated the changing perception of the award. ⁹⁰ As a veteran from the US Army, a branch that awarded enlisted men for soldier-saving actions, DeMarco likely found the story inspiring and offers one of the first indications that the Medal of Honor was beginning to become a cultural symbol.

The defining narrative of Breault's story can be found in two articles by Grigore, ‘The Luck of the Submarine O-5’ from The Military Engineer and ‘The O-5 Is Down!’ from Proceedings, which were written in 1969 and 1972, respectively. ⁹¹ These articles are the most significant narrative and literary contributions to the historiography of the rescue itself, but analyse the rescue from a Panama Canal perspective, focusing on the activities to rescue the disabled submarine. This focus likely stems from a professional consideration, Grigore was a United States Navy Reserve Captain with extensive ties to the Panama Canal Zone community. ⁹² While Grigore wrote on submarine history, his primary focus as a historian was on the Panama Canal. These articles do have a limited utility, despite having access to many of the same resources cited by Grigore, his works added many details that cannot be found within the sources he consulted . The confusion is likely not intentional, Grigore was a popular historian, and probably had access to stories and archives as a member of that community which he did not feel the need to cite. The major issue preventing Grigore's articles from gaining greater currency with submariners was that the intended audience of these journals consisted primarily of naval officers. If a submarine officer read the articles, they likely thought Breault's story was interesting but would have been much more interested in the details of the rescue itself, while enlisted Cold Warriors like Dubay were still focused on their Second World War heritage. ⁹³

Iconographic renaissance: 1990–present

Breault's folk-hero status is the product of a recent professional movement with little exposure to historical and popular research of the submarine fleet, originating as an attempt to fill a legacy gap. The end of the Cold War created an identity crisis for the submarine fleet. How was it to define itself in the absence of an existential threat? A few newspapers in the Submarine Archives of the Submarine Force Library and Museum and the researcher's personal experience substantiated by a poll conducted on a United States Navy Submariners Facebook group suggest that Breault's renaissance began prior to 1999 and was fully adopted no later than 2003. ⁹⁴ Once found, his story proved to be fruitful in reminding sailors that peacetime operations could still be as dangerous and adverse as wartime scenarios, giving purpose to those serving in a similar period of peacetime operations.

From a local history perspective, the Aspincook Historical Society of Putnam, Connecticut, began collecting an archive in 1988, after a story was published in the local paper, Observer Extra. A relative, Fred St. Onge, who had been a pall-bearer for Breault, worked with the local Putnam Veterans of Foreign Wars Chapter to get a Medal of Honor gravestone. There are several inaccuracies in the article: the date of the collision, J. J. Breault's profession in the Spanish–American War, Breault's cause of death and Breault's birthplace were incorrectly cited by St. Onge. As an older gentleman recalling conversations from decades before, these inconsistencies can be reasonably expected. However, the article is still important as it recounts one of the few first-hand interactions anyone had with Breault. St. Onge recalled that Breault stated that he felt best out at sea, and that he was ‘an average fellow, good natured, very sociable, and a person with an open mind. I can still see him when he used to live with us. I remember clearly he used to smoke English Ovals and Turkish Drophies’. ⁹⁵ As the inception of the Aspincook Historical Society's focus, it created an enduring interest in a local hero that would manifest in further enshrinement and interaction with other researchers.

The Submarine Force Library and Museum initially did not have an exhibit for Breault in its Medal of Honor section. He was included only after the curator, Stephen Finnegan, discovered Grigore's articles in the 1990s. ⁹⁶ Finnegan began accumulating the collection contained in the Submarine Archives. After a research visit, Jim Christley took this research and published an article, leading to the first indication of renewed interest for the Navy – the dedication of a new pier in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, on 18 June 1999. ⁹⁷ Shewman McClain reported that the guest speaker, Rear Admiral Konetzni, connected Breault's heroism to the present-day submarine community, stating that ‘events like this are ways we can shape the future by honoring the past’. ⁹⁸

Similar efforts were made in Connecticut on 19 May 2001, when Robert A. Hamilton reported on the dedication of a memorial to Breault at Wilkinson Hall in Groton. According to Hamilton, Senior Chief Petty Officer Anderson assisted Christley by introducing him to Captain Lotring, Commanding Officer of the Naval Submarine Base New London. Lotring made his intentions clear: ‘I want our sailors to have a link with their past. And this is a Medal of Honor – this is a big deal’. Christley, echoing Dubay, stated that this link was lacking during his 20-year tenure in the Navy. ⁹⁹ The present-day perception of the Medal of Honor overshadowed any gaps that may have been present in the story. They wanted their junior sailors to look up to Breault and understand that such bravery was expected of them as submariners.

Breault's home town of Putnam also dedicated a footbridge in his memory on 11 November 2003. The guest speaker, Captain Ratte, Jr., stated during the dedication:

Torpedoman First Class Henry Breault's inspiring and exceptional performance of duty under the worst imaginable conditions, and in the face of seemingly certain death, speak to a selfless courage … And it was such selfless courage the many Sailors of our World War II Submarine Force tried to emulate when they were called upon some twenty years later. ¹⁰⁰

Ratte’s focus on selfless courage by linking it back to Second World War sailors reflects a common theme that is also seen in Dubay's response. The veterans of this conflict were involved in the community well into the Cold War; they anchored the service and acted as a source of identity. Ratte borrows from their prestige to give to the lesser-known Breault, offering a reason that it is acceptable to honour a peacetime hero. The emphasis on American heroes in the Second World War has come to the detriment of heroes in other periods. In the Cold War era of bipolar competition between the United States and Soviet Union, this focus was deliberate – the possibility of a major war like the Second World War existed. As this threat diminished, interest in other types of heroism outside of combat could exist, so long as they were tied to the Second World War.

These dedications present a clear picture of increased interest from 1999 to 2003. It was driven by the higher echelons of command with an emphasis on connecting junior sailors to their past. Awareness would eventually manifest in the inclusion of Breault in the curriculum of the Naval Submarine School and awards named in his honour. One award, sponsored by the Submarine Force League and known as the ‘Torpedoman Second Class Henry Breault Award’, is given to E1–E6 sailors and ‘best exemplifies the traditional spirit embodied in the Submarine Force’. ¹⁰¹ Breault's iconographic construction has become a connection for twenty-first-century enlisted submariners to their heritage, particularly those who believe in the oft-repeated Navy maxim ‘ship, shipmate, self’. Drennan explains the expectations for a junior sailor's conduct:

[T]he youngest Seaman Recruit swabbing the deck on a Navy warship … is taught a traditional saying that sailors use to succinctly describe their priorities: ‘ship, shipmate, self.’ Like most nautical jargon, the aphorism has a certain graceful ring to it that captures the Navy's mission-first mentality in very few words. It evokes dramatic notions of sailors agonizingly shutting a hatch on shipmates to save the ship from flooding, or sacrificing their own safety to save a shipmate from an engine room fire. ¹⁰²

The sailor-saving ideal is invoked by Drennan as being seen as an essential part of the Navy spirit. For submariners, this impulse is embodied by their early exposure to Breault. For those looking for purpose in the mundane life of duty, training and sea time, Breault is representative of those who have been forgotten because they did not have the privilege of rank to be remembered. Breault's commendation has become unattainable, yet his heroism has become the duty and expectation of the average sailor qualified in submarines. The renewed interest constructed a naval hero who is uniquely suited to conveying a lesson on the expectations of a sailor in submarine service.

No ordinary submariner: constructing enlisted heroes

Breault's heroism came at a pivotal time in the development of the submarine community and during a period of increased focus on awarding the Medal of Honor to enlisted personnel. ¹⁰³ In a recent professional development for a force that has not seen another Medal of Honor awarded since the end of the Second World War, a renewed focus engrained Breault as an icon within the identity of the enlisted submariner. ¹⁰⁴ Breault was an ordinary man who, when given the opportunity, acted in an extraordinary heroic capacity, representing sailors serving in the present day, like Kenny Neville, who wrote:

His service and extraordinary heroism was written down and captured on a [plaque] that hung on the Torpedo room door on USS Virginia (SSN 774). It was a constant reminder that our service in the submarine community, while seemingly boring, mundane, or ridiculous at times, was of a higher calling than most people could fathom. And it was a constant gut check to keep me going and strive to be a better human being. I honestly can say I read the [plaque] in [its] entirety well over 500 times and never did I think to myself, ‘Why am I reading this again?’ I was not a Torpedoman. I was M-div. ¹⁰⁵

Breault has become a folk hero for the enlisted man, one who represents the status of the essential submarine sailor's duty.

The process of the construction of Breault's story was not a linear progression. The motivation of those who made the award possible was not to construct him as a naval hero, rather they sought to award him for a genuinely brave action. The focus on the Second World War created a gap in his legacy where the information that survived was delivered to the wrong audience or contained inaccuracies. In the present day, the iconographic construction of Breault as an enlisted folk hero reflects the desire for meaning in the monotony of peacetime operations, one that is reconnected to the heroism of the Second World War. These enlisted men serve an important microhistorical role in reconstructing the lives of the enlisted men of the Navy and should garner more attention to understand the unique periods they lived in. Before this can be completely accomplished, understanding and respecting the gravity of their persons for the communities they represent will illuminate much about the communities themselves.