The Puget Soundings

The year 1996 for the Bremerton Base unfolded the way a good patrol does, not with sudden drama, but with steady motion, quiet adjustments, and the constant hum of purpose beneath the surface. If 1995 had been a year of structure, then 1996 was the year that structure was tested, exercised, and, in the end, proven sound.

February began with the familiar rhythm of continuity. The leadership that had guided the base through the previous year remained in place. Dick Litscher still held the role of Base Commander, Bud Berg served as Vice Commander, Clyde Crowder managed the treasury, Jim Foote handled the administrative load, and Willie Spoon carried the increasingly important role of Chief of the Boat. That last position, still relatively new, had already taken on weight. Spoon was not simply a title-holder. He was active, visible, and involved in nearly every aspect of base life.

The early months of the year carried a tone of rebuilding momentum. January had been quiet, as it often is, and February felt like a restart. Meetings resumed, stories flowed, and plans began to take shape. There was a sense that the base was not merely maintaining itself but preparing for a busy year ahead. Community connections were evident, with members volunteering at the Naval Undersea Museum in Keyport and engaging with public outreach efforts. It was a reminder that the base existed not in isolation, but as part of a broader maritime and local community.

By March, attention turned once again to one of the base’s defining efforts, the scholarship program. It had become a tradition, but not a passive one. It required work, coordination, and participation. Applications needed to be gathered, tickets sold, and decisions made. There was a seriousness to it, an understanding that this was one of the most meaningful things the base did each year. It connected the past to the future in a direct and tangible way.

At the same time, March carried an undercurrent of transition. There were hints that leadership might shift later in the year. Elections were on the horizon, and while nothing had yet changed, the awareness was there. In a volunteer organization, leadership does not simply rotate. It must be cultivated, encouraged, and, at times, coaxed forward.

May and June brought the scholarship effort to its peak. The work paid off. Participation was strong, perhaps the strongest yet, and the results spoke for themselves. A deserving student was selected, and the base could look at the outcome with a sense of pride. This was not just fundraising. It was impact.

June, in particular, carried a sense of accomplishment. The scholarship drive had succeeded, and the base had demonstrated what it could achieve when its members were fully engaged. Behind that success was the steady coordination of individuals like Willie Spoon, whose role as Chief of the Boat had clearly become central. He was not simply part of the organization. He was helping to drive it.

July arrived with both celebration and change. The annual picnic at Scenic Beach State Park once again served as a gathering point, a moment to step back from the business of the base and enjoy the fellowship that held it together. Families attended, laughter replaced formalities, and the base felt less like an organization and more like a community.

But even in that relaxed setting, important work was done. Elections were held, and the results marked a significant transition. Bud Berg stepped into the role of Base Commander, Jim Foote moved into the position of Vice Commander, and Dick Litscher shifted from Commander to Secretary. Clyde Crowder remained Treasurer, steady and unchanged, and Willie Spoon continued as Chief of the Boat.

This was not a disruption. It was a rotation. Experience did not leave the room. It simply changed positions. The men who had led the base continued to serve, just in different capacities. It was a model of continuity that reflected the very culture they had come from.

The months that followed showed the effects of that transition. By September, the new leadership team was fully in place and functioning smoothly. There was no sense of instability. If anything, there was a renewed energy. Plans were underway for hosting the Western Regional Conference, a significant undertaking that would place the Bremerton Base at the center of a larger gathering of submarine veterans.

The preparation for that event revealed something important about the base. It was no longer simply maintaining itself. It was taking on responsibility beyond its own membership. Logistics had to be arranged, schedules planned, hospitality coordinated. It required organization, communication, and a willingness to step up. Members were called upon to assist, and they responded.

At the same time, the base continued its ongoing efforts closer to home. The scholarship program remained a point of pride, with discussions already beginning for the following year. Plans were also made for a memorial marker at Ivy Green Cemetery, a project that reflected the base’s commitment to honoring those who had gone before. This was not just about remembering in words. It was about creating something lasting.

The fall months also saw a renewed focus on service to the community. A food drive was organized, with members encouraged to bring donations to meetings or arrange for pickup. There was also the continuation of the program to assist a needy family during the holiday season. These efforts were not grand in scale, but they were meaningful. They reflected the values that had defined the base throughout the year.

November and December brought the year toward its close with both activity and reflection. The Western Regional Conference, hosted by the base, stood as a major accomplishment. It required coordination at every level, from lodging and transportation to meals and events. The successful execution of that conference was a testament to the base’s ability to organize and lead beyond its own immediate circle.

At the same time, the familiar rhythms of the season continued. The annual Christmas party provided a moment to gather once more, to share food, stories, and a sense of camaraderie. There was also the ongoing work of the base, collecting dues, planning for the next year, and ensuring that the organization remained on solid footing.

Looking across the full arc of 1996, a pattern emerges. It is not one of dramatic change, but of steady evolution. The base strengthened its internal structure, successfully transitioned leadership, expanded its activities, and deepened its connection to both its members and the broader community.

If there is a single defining feature of the year, it is this. The Bremerton Base proved that it could do more than exist. It could lead. It could organize. It could adapt. And it could do so without losing the sense of fellowship that lay at its core.

Like a well-run boat, it maintained course through changing conditions, relying not on any one individual, but on the collective strength of its crew. And by the time the year drew to a close, it was clear that the base was not simply continuing. It was growing, quietly but unmistakably, into something stronger than it had been before.