Step into life aboard a Second World War Royal Navy submarine
7-8 minute read
By Ellie Ayton | December 26, 2025
Covert missions, bonds of brotherhood, and legacies forged in saltwater. What was it like to be a crew member aboard a Royal Navy submarine? Delve into our family history records and newspapers to find out.
Imagine yourself living inside a large steel cylinder, lit by electricity, with an endless network of pipes and cables decorating the walls. All around the cylinder is water, exerting such pressure that it threatens to crush the manmade hull. It's a maze of complicated machinery, home to anywhere from 30 to 60 men with nerves of steel.
It’s a stark image, 250 ft below the surface - one that was a reality for the submariners of the Royal Navy.
History’s first Royal Navy submarines
The first modern submarines were a product of the 19th century (think France’s Nautilus and Wilhelm Bauer’s Brandtaucher), and later, the idea truly set sail with the development of powered engines.
In the early 1900s, the Royal Navy commissioned its first underwater vessels: five Holland-class submarines, with its first, HMS Holland 1, launching in 1901.
Vickers were commissioned to build the first Royal Navy submarines, from the Tamworth Herald, 16 March 1901.
But it was the outbreak of the First World War that would see submarines take centre stage in the battle for the seas. In 1914, the British Royal Navy had some 74 submarines in its arsenal, expanding to over 150 by the end of the war. 54 were lost during the conflict.
Only the very best, handpicked submarine crews
Crews aboard Royal Navy submarines weren’t chosen at random. To keep such a vessel operational and safe, the men were selected based on skill and efficiency. The safety of everyone aboard depended on each member of the crew.
They'd need to be both physically and mentally fit, as well as loyal, good-tempered and dependable. A submariner had to be able to work in stressful conditions. One mistake might mean a whole crew, whether 27 in the Unity class or 60 of the Thames class, could be lost.
Command rested with the Commanding Officer (usually a Lieutenant Commander or Lieutenant), supported by the First Lieutenant, who effectively acted as executive officer, overseeing discipline, watchkeeping, and day-to-day running of the boat.
The Navigating Officer managed charts, sonar reports, and the complex task of bringing a submarine safely through minefields and enemy patrol zones. Engineering oversight fell to the Engineer Officer, responsible for the diesel engines, batteries and propulsion systems that, if mismanaged, could cripple a patrol or kill the crew.
Junior officers tended to specialise in torpedoes, communications or gunnery, and all were expected to take a watch and be capable of taking command in an emergency.
Officers and crew at work, in the Illustrated London News, 11 November 1939.
Below the officers, most of the crew were skilled ratings whose technical expertise kept the submarine functioning under immense pressure. Chief and Petty Officers provided experienced leadership in key departments: the Chief Engine Room Artificer supervised engine mechanics; Torpedomen maintained and loaded the tubes; Leading Telegraphists handled wireless traffic and coded signals; and Stokers ran the engines, ventilation and battery-charging cycles. Ordinary Seamen and Able Seamen worked across multiple duties, from lookout and helmsman tasks to managing the deck gun.
Royal Navy submarines carried a cook, or an able seaman who was designated cook, who worked from a tiny galley to feed the entire crew on exhausting patrols. Some submarines were lucky: on HMS Unruffled, Able Seaman A. B. “Wiggy” Bennett, a pre-war baker, became the designated cook, much to the crew's delight. His skills offered rare comfort in an otherwise harsh environment.
Rest and play on a Royal Navy submarine
Even when at war, it’s said that most submarine crews were often contented shipmates. Humour was vital in times of crisis, in a life that was always tense from the moment the submarine set sail, to when she returned to friendly territory.
Any men not on watch spent most of their time sleeping, which was encouraged to help conserve oxygen. After a while traversing the ocean's depths, the air would start to feel heavy.
Illustrations of the living conditions aboard a Royal Navy submarine, from the Illustrated London News, 1 April 1939.
Some would sleep and some would be on watch, then they’d swap. These were known as ‘Hot beds’ - there would always be someone sleeping in a bunk, so it would always be warm. There were very likely not enough bunks for the entire crew. Even the mess deck would have bunks stowed along the bulkheads, sleeping quarters woven between coils of piping and machinery.
One commander described the rotating day in a newspaper article from 1940:
"We take turns at keeping watch, eating and sleeping, and that way the kettle is always boiling, and the beds never get cold."
The temperature could vary wildly, depending on where the submarine was in the world and the warmth of the water.
Inside HMS Triumph, from The Sphere, 4 October 1941.
A lack of space meant exercise could be tricky. Recreation was restricted to playing cards, Ludo, reading, or listening to music on a gramophone. Since silence was the ‘unwritten law,’ no one said more than they had to. On a submarine, discipline like salutes and heel clicks went out of the (non-existent) window. Instead, the discipline was based on mutual trust.
Crews would come together for meals, eating breakfast at eight in the evening, and supper and eight in the morning while on patrol.
Examples of menus from aboard a Second World War Navy submarine, from the Yorkshire Post and Leeds Intelligencer, 7 January 1943.
A table would be slung down from the ceiling so crews could eat regular meals consisting of canned goods, preserved meats, potatoes, and soup. Food was limited, fresh supplies vanished quickly, and morale depended heavily on the cook’s ingenuity in stifling heat and cramped conditions.
Receiving the rum ration, pictured in the Yorkshire Post and Leeds Intelligencer, 4 September 1941.
Cramped conditions and the constant threat of danger required mental alertness and physical perfection. The life of a submariner was a tough one but undoubtedly thrilling. When not on patrol, crews would get more rest, space and relaxation aboard a depot ship.
HMS Forth, a depot ship in Scotland which could house the crews of six submarines, was once described as ‘a mother hen with her chickens surrounding her'.
The cook’s recipe for Dundee pudding, in the Dundee Evening Telegraph, 15 August 1939.
And if you’ve ever felt compelled to bake a Scottish pudding for over 500 submariners, your recipe can be found above...
Royal Navy submarines in action during the Second World War
In the Second World War, life aboard a Royal Navy submarine was exacting. Always hunting. Always being hunted. On the surface, they were targets for bombs from speeding aircraft or the quick guns of a destroyer. When submerged, they were the prey of mines and the dreaded depth charge.
When attacking an enemy vessel, the whole submarine would shudder as torpedoes left their tubes. Alarms would ring. Diving would happen very quickly, closing the hatch as the last item on the list. Electric lightbulbs would smash from the pressure. Needles of depth gauges would come alive.
Below the surface, the crew would hear the detonations of explosions as the enemy tried to smoke them out with sweep wires, electrically operated bombs, and depth charges. All a submarine could do was remain silent and motionless. After the long waiting, they’d either meet their end in the deep, or listen as the explosions gradually grew more distant.
If a submarine was hit, the lights could go out. Water would spurt and air would hiss and it escaped from the high-pressure system. The crew would quickly work to restore the lights and stop the air leaks. It would become more difficult to breathe. One submarine commander described it as:
"It’s like someone rocking a rowboat. Some of the lights go out and our china was broken."
HMS Triumph hit a mine on Boxing Day in 1939. She lost 18ft of her bow but managed to reach home after an epic 300-mile journey across the North Sea.
The damage sustained to HMS Triumph, in The Sphere, 4 October 1941.
If even one crew member made a mistake, the entire submarine would be put in danger, and the lives of all those aboard. Once surfaced, if there was no enemy in sight, the crew would set to making essential repairs.
74 Royal Navy submarines were lost during the Second World War. 74 crews who never made it home. Dozens of families with empty spaces at kitchen tables.
How to find your Second World War submarine relative
Royal Navy stories are now at your fingertips with a brand-new, exclusive and growing archive of records charting from Trafalgar to the Second World War.
Whether you’re mapping the story of a ship, a hero, or a family legacy forged on the sea, our collection is waiting for you to explore, brought online in partnership with the National Museum of the Royal Navy.
Track submarines beneath the waves and trace vessels navigating the deep with our special how-to Guides and Royal Navy records.
For tracing those who served aboard Royal Navy submarines, delve into over 50,000 Submarine Movement Cards, detailing the vessels your ancestor sailed with. With these, you can map out a picture of your ancestor's Royal Navy service.
