Thunder Below! Review
- Justin DeLeon
- May 29
- 2 min read

"If you run out of good ideas, make sure you still have guts."
This book rewrote my understanding of history—not by changing the facts, but by shining a light where I hadn’t thought to look. Until now, every Navy story I’d read focused on SEALs, modern warfare, and special operations. This was the first time I stepped back into the depths—literally—to learn what submariners endured and accomplished during World War II.
And what a ride it was.
Fluckey, commanding officer of the USS Barb, tells the story of his submarine patrols with clarity, candor, and enough dry humor that made this vet chuckle. This isn’t just a war memoir; it’s a meticulous retelling of real missions, strategic gambits, and sheer audacity.
From sneaking into enemy harbors under the cover of darkness to launching the only ground combat operation on the Japanese mainland by U.S. forces during the war, the exploits of the Barb and its crew are the stuff of legend—but they’re all true.
"We were the tip of the spear in places the enemy didn’t even think were vulnerable."
What stood out to me most was the balance between technical precision and human depth. Fluckey doesn’t glorify war, but he honors the men who fought it. He brings you inside the torpedo room, the conning tower, the mess hall—he shows you how every member of that crew mattered, from the officers making decisions to the youngest sailor running drills or standing watch. The level of respect and camaraderie shines through on every page.
"Turning once more his shoulders stooped, spirit broken, he wobbled up the path and into the forest. I could almost feel his tears running down my cheeks—or is it mine. War is such hell."
Fluckey’s leadership style is also something to behold. He leads with boldness, not recklessness; with intelligence, not ego. He repeatedly puts his crew’s safety first—even when taking on outrageous risk—and his Medal of Honor wasn’t earned from a single act of valor, but from a series of decisions that pushed the limits of what a submarine could do in enemy waters.
"One crew refused to unload a ship because it was Sunday. The Marines had a solution. They went aboard, threw the crew over the side and unloaded the ship."
Fluckey explains just enough to make you understand how the boat worked, how the torpedoes were fired, and how close they came to disaster more than once. But it’s never dry. It’s fast-paced, gripping, and often surprisingly funny.
This book opened my eyes to a part of naval history I had completely overlooked. The silent service wasn’t so silent after all—not in impact, not in bravery, and certainly not in legacy.
If you’re someone who’s always associated military stories with High-Speed Low-Drag tactics, SEALs, and modern warfare, do yourself a favor and read Thunder Below. It’s a different kind of warfare, but it’s just as courageous, just as vital, and every bit as gripping.
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