Monthly Archives: August 2024

Sailors Knocking

80 years ago, the Liberation of Paris, 26 August 1944, the American-built M10 tank destroyer No. 420 094 “Flibustier” of the 3rd Sqn, 2nd Pltn, Régiment Blindé de Fusilier Marins, of the Free French 2nd Armored Division in action outside the Hôtel Crillon, place de la Concorde, 8ème arrondissement, Paris.

Photo by Robert Pichonnier via the Paris Musee Collections, PH18871

Note the mixture of curious civilians taking cover watching the French and U.S. troops flush out the snipers. The commander appears to be waving a signal flag. The eastern building, the Hôtel de la Marine, housed the headquarters of the French Navy until 2015, which made sense as the RBMF was made up of Free French sailors and marines– typically recruited from British POW camps.

As Flibustier’s name is one of many French descriptors for a pirate and was traditionally used for warships, what could be more correct than these sailors and marines, fresh from the brig essentially, made sure to roll on Navy HQ?

As noted by one researcher:

The main victim during this battle was one of Gabriel’s massive Corinthian columns, the fifth one from the right along the facade of the Hotel Crillon. According to the story, the column was destroyed by the gunner of M10 Flibustier after he was warned by his commander to “watch out for the fifth column”. The commander was referring to the collaborationist snipers. The story probably originated by the civilians who were around M10 Flibustier which was closest to the column at the time. But Flibustier’s cannon was pointed away from the building when the column was destroyed. One source stated that one of the Shermans on the other side of the Place de la Concorde actually fired and destroyed the column.

Free French M10 Tank Destroyer “FLIBUSTIER” in Paris during the Liberation – August 1944. LIFE Magazine Archives – David Scherman Photographer WWP-PD

Flibustier almost survived the war. The M10 was de-tracked by German tellermines on 16 April 1945 in Royan.

For what it is worth, the Hotel de Crillon, mentioned Hemingway in several of his novels including The Sun Also Rises (1926) and The Snows of Kilimanjaro (1936) and where Orwell worked as a dishwasher in 1929, endures. Closed for remodeling in 2013, it reopened in 2017. 

Navy Feels the Sting of its Shortfall in Civilian Mariners (and it’s not going to get better unless something changes)

Ever since the end of the Cold War, Big Navy saw dollar signs in trying to push just about anything haze gray but without fixed weapons to the Military Sealift Command whose ships are still Navy-tasked but manned by civil service mariners (CIVMARs) rather than bluejackets. Up until then, MSC had previously just manned sealift ships and provided crews for pre-positioned ships.

The theory was that the civvies could be employed at less than the cost of active duty military (when you add Tricare, BAH, retirement, etc), and you could get away with furloughing a lot of them if not needed (try doing that with an E-6). Plus the billets per ship could be quietly reduced, further saving dollars. 

This saw most of the Navy’s logistics, fleet support, and special mission auxiliaries transfer over in the 1990s (as USNS vs USS), and most remain there. This included oilers (AOs becoming T-AOs), hospital ships (T-AHs), dry cargo/ammo ships (T-AKE), fleet tugs, rescue ships, salvage ships, etc.

As new ships are added in what used to be Navy missions– things like Expeditionary Fast Transport Vessels (T-EPF) and Expeditionary Mobile Bases (T-ESB)– they have gone to the MSC instead.

Then came mixed crews, with the MSC driving and operating things like the big LCCs, tenders (AS/AD), et. al. while the rest of the watch bills are filled with Navy rates.

In short, by now something like 1 in 5 Navy ships aren’t manned by the Navy.

The money to be made sounds decent, such as $65,768 entry-level Ordinary Seaman for deck rates, $92,785 for a Pumpman in the Engine department, $89,947 for an Assistant Cook, $73,549 for an Assistant Storekeeper, etc. but there are lots of caveats to that and they need to address glaring reasons for the dangerous the shortfall (MSC is always recruiting for just about everything). Such as the fact that mariners not assigned to a ship are not getting paid. 

Keep in mind there are just 6,000 CIVMARs on hand but ideally you need more like 10,000 to pull off the taskings they have (especially if there is a crisis activation), and the MSC looks at these guys the same way as a government employee working a desk job in Washington. This means entry-level guys get just 13 days off a year plus some allotments for extra shore leave if underway (1 day for 15 steaming).  

Retention is an even bigger problem, as senior guys who carry the certs and ratings for this kind of work can get a lot better job driving a cruise ship, commercial RO-RO, or tanker, without the burn-out and hassle you get at the MSC– especially when getting shot at. 

It has gotten so bad that the MSC plans to lay up 17 ships, some of them in dire need forward deployed:

As detailed by the USNI:

The MSC “force generation reset” identified two Lewis and Clark replenishment ships, one fleet oiler, a dozen Spearhead-class Expeditionary Fast Transports (EPF) and two forward-deployed Navy expeditionary sea bases that would enter an “extended maintenance” period and have their crews retasked to other ships in the fleet, three people familiar with the plan told USNI News Thursday.

Based on the crew requirements on the platforms, sideling all the ships could reduce the civilian mariner demand for MSC by as many as 700 billets.

A defense official confirmed the basic outline of the plan to USNI News on Thursday. Two sources identified the forward-deployed sea bases as USS Lewis Puller (ESB-3), based in Bahrain in U.S. Central Command, and USS Herschel “Woody” Williams (ESB-4), based in Naval Support Activity Souda Bay, Greece, and operated in U.S. European and Africa Command.

Sal Mercogliano, a maritime historian at Campbell University and former merchant mariner, had a great video a couple months ago discussing crewing issues with the MSC and the Royal Navy’s Royal Fleet Auxiliary, which suffers from the same talent drain.

Persistent UAV Maritime Snoopers Getting to be a Real Thing

One of the sleeper stories from RIMPAC is that General Atomic’s MQ-9B SeaGuardian spent some 100 hours poking around the exercises and demonstrated Long Range Anti-Ship Missile (LRASM) targeting and a new Sonobuoy Dispensing System (SDS) to support its ASW capability.

SeaGuardian, which is basically a navalized MQ-9 Reaper (Predator B) with a longer wingspan (79 feet vs. 66), endurance (“40+ hours” vs 24), and heavier weight (12,000 pounds max T/O vs 10,500), has been under development by GA-ASI since 2017.

It is a bruiser, with SeaGuardian featuring nine hardpoints (8 wing, 1 centerline) with a maximum 4,750-pound external payload capacity. By comparison, the Douglas SBD Dauntless dive bomber had a max payload of 2,250 pounds. Reaper is already cleared to carry Hellfire missiles, Paveways, and JDAMs.

The SeaGuardian variants can carry a 360-degree patrol radar and two 10-tube sonobuoy pods, while still being able to clock in with Hellfires and 500-pound bombs if needed. If you told me they could find a way to mount an anti-ship missile and some Mk. 50 torps, perhaps on a paired aircraft operating in teams, I wouldn’t doubt it.

It has been demonstrating a sonobuoy delivery– and monitoring– capability, having dropped BT, DIFAR, and DICASS buoys in a 2021 test and then successfully tracked a target for three hours.

In its ASW tracking role, it can carry as many as 40 NATO A-size (4 7/8-inch diameter, 36-inch length) sonobuoys. Worse case, they can be buoy trucks for P-8s and MH-60s, especially if they can deploy on an LHA/LHD.

“For RIMPAC, the MQ-9B effectively passed ISR&T information to various surface and air units, such as the Nimitz-class carrier USS Carl Vinson, Guided Missile Destroyers (DDGs), Littoral Combat Ships (LCS), frigates, patrol boats, P-8s, P-3s, and numerous other U.S. and foreign units that took part in the exercise,” said GA-ASI President David R. Alexander.

Impressively, once the exercise was over, SeaGuardian self-deployed back to GA-ASI’s Desert Horizon Flight Operations Facility in El Mirage, California, a trip of no less than 2,893 miles. It has a published (ferry?) range of some 5,000+ nmi, so that is well within its envelope.

For reference, Guam (or better yet, Tinian Island) to Taiwan is just 1,700 miles.

Something not spoken about is that the A-size sonobuoy opens up the use of compatible autonomous underwater vehicles (AUVs) such as Lockheed’s EMATT and SUBMATT which can mimic submarines and do other neat tricks.

Want to screen an SSN or SSGN operating in a tough non-permissive environment from enemy sub-busters? Imagine the confusion and diversion you can pull off with a few SeaGuardians filed with 20-30 SUBMATTs clearing the way to a vital target, especially if they could be made as glide aways.

Anyway, a few squadrons of weapons-certified SeaGuardians (Quicksink, anyone?) could be very interesting in future Pacific (or Persian Gulf) hot spots, especially in out-of-the-box asymmetric scenarios.

SeaGuardian

Saipan Stomach Pills

Some 80 years ago, the 25 August 1944 issue of “Yank” magazine carried a wide shot of a “Tanker in the Marianas” on the cover, showing said helmeted armored vehicle crewman amidst a scene of urban wreckage, his trusty mount behind him and seemingly camouflaged by various sheet metal bits and local signage.

The shot, from a series by Yank’s own SGT Bill Young and LIFE’s Peter Stackpole, is of 20-year-old CPL Thomas O’Neal of the 2nd Marine Division’s 2nd Tank Battalion as he rests against his Fisher-made M4A2 Sherman Tank after securing the town of Garapan during Operation Forager, the Battle of Saipan, in late July 1944.

Of note, only the Marine Corps, the Russian Army, and the Free French Forces predominantly used the diesel-powered M4A2 Sherman, while the Army had standardized the M4A3, with its gasoline-fueled Ford GAA engine, for its own mass production.

The ad behind O’Neal, printed by Saichi in Nakajima, is for Yuchu “stomach disease tameyui” of the Makoto Sheiro Yutada gastrointestinal and pulmonary medicine company, based in Osaka City, Tennoji Mito. In short, for stomach pills (almost) good enough for the Emperor himself!

While on Saipan, both 2nd and 4th Tanks shrugged off hits from Japanese 47mm guns and teamed up to decimate a battalion of the Emperor’s Type 95 Ha-go light tanks– one of the few large tank-on-tank fights seen in the Pacific in WWII.

O’Neal, his M1938 helmet still plugged into his tank and an M1911 in a shoulder holster across his chest, seems less than impressed.

Thomas “Tom” Everett O’Neal was born on 28 April 1924 in Long Beach, California, and enlisted in the Marines at the ripe old age of 17 just a week after Pearl Harbor. Volunteering for tanks, he fought at Guadalcanal and Tarawa before the landings on Saipan.

O’Neal survived the war without injuries and returned home to his high school sweetheart to start a family. Called back to active duty in July 1950 to head to Korea, he fought with the Marines at Inchon, Seoul, Wonsan, and around the Chosin Reservoir before returning home to later retire from the Los Angeles Police Department in the late 1960s. He then moved with his wife to Oregon and took up woodworking, belonging to the Oregon Old Time Fiddlers “where Tom played the guitar.”

Thomas O’Neal passed away in 2007 at the age of 83, leaving behind a “wife of 65 years, two sons and two daughters, four grandchildren and four great-grandchildren.”

As for 2nd Tanks, formed on 20 December 1941, at Camp Elliott, San Diego, they cased their colors in 2021, capping 80 years of service to the Marines. It was the final Marine tank unit, a decision that could lead many future Devil Dogs to take stomach pills. 

Dragging Stern

Here we see this amazing shot, some 80 years ago this week, of the Ruler (Bogue) class Royal Navy escort carrier HMS Nabob (D 77) as she doggedly returns to base, very well trimmed aft, her stern low down in the water, after being hit by a German torpedo on 22 August 1944.

She lost 21 of her crew but the survivors couldn’t quit her.

Hudson, F A (Lt) Royal Navy official photographer Imperial War Museums (collection no. 4700-01) A 25368.

Constructed in Seattle under the name USS Edisto (ACV/CVE-41), Nabob instead entered British service on 7 September 1943, with over two-thirds of her crew being Canadian.

Less than a year later and half a world away, Nabob, loaded with Wildcat Mk V fighters and Avenger Mk.IIs from 852 and 856 Naval Air Squadrons, were in the main force attacking KMS Tirpitz in that German battlewagon’s Norwegian stronghold during Operation Goodwood.

It was then, after the first strike was recovered, that a Type VIIC U-boat on its 8th patrol, U-354 (Oblt. Hans-Jürgen Sthamer), encountered our little “jeep” carrier and pumped a spread of FAT torpedoes into her just after 01.14 hours on 22 August 1944. One hit, blowing a 32-foot hole below her waterline aft of the engine room and causing extensive flooding.

Sthamer tried to finish off the wounded carrier with a Gnat torpedo but it was instead soaked up by the Buckley-class destroyer escort HMS Bickerton (K 466), sending the greyhound to the bottom of the Barents Sea with 38 dead.

The British sloop HMS Mermaid and the frigate HMS Loch Dunvegan would in turn send U-354 and all hands to the cold embrace of the sea floor courtesy of dozens of depth charges.

Nabob, her engine room shored up against the open ocean, managed to limp to Scapa Flow some 1,070 miles at a steady ten-knot clip. She somehow even managed to get a few of her Avengers airborne when a sonar contact suggested another U-boat blocking her path.

As her galley and mess facilities were out of service, the skeleton crew that shepherded their hogging carrier back to Scotland had to get by on “short rations and rum for the five days it took to get the ship home.”

It was a marvel of damage control and was cited as an example to emulate in RN publications for years.

Declared a constructive loss as repair to her warped shaft could not realistically be accomplished she was returned to U.S. Navy custody in March 1945.

Sold for scrap the next year to a breaker’s yard in Holland, she was in fact found still serviceable and, converted to mercantile service, steamed for another 30 years.

Never doubt a Jeep carrier.

Often regarded by some as Canada’s first aircraft carrier, her ship’s bell was retained by the RCN and is in the Naval Museum of Halifax, CFB Halifax. Although her crew cut off her guns and jettisoned several of her planes to cut weight and correct trim lest water poured into her hangar deck from the stern, they couldn’t bring themselves to 86 the bell. 

Building 39 Down Under, Seeming Very Familiar

A recurring theme of WWII U.S. submarine war patrols, as witnessed in yesterday’s Warship Wednesday on the USS Burrfish, was the typical cycle of going out on a 50-to-70-day deployment and then returning to a forward-deployed submarine tender for a three-week reset/resupply, and hitting the patrol beat once again.

That’s what allowed many boats, barring extreme damage that sent them stateside for repair, to pull off a dozen or more patrols inside a two or three-year period. During the Pacific war, over 40 American submarines made at least 10 patrols, with five making 15 and the USS Stingray (SS-186) making an amazing 16 patrols in the 39 months between December 1941 and February 1945.

The U.S. Navy submarine tender USS Holland (AS-3) doing what tenders do, with seven nursing submarines of Submarine Squadron 6 and Submarine Division 12 alongside, in San Diego harbor, California (USA), on 24 December 1934. The submarines are (from left to right): USS Cachalot (SS-170), USS Dolphin (SS-169), USS Barracuda (SS-163), and USS Bass (SS-164), USS Bonita (SS-165), USS Nautilus (SS-168) and USS Narwhal (SS-167). Despite her small size and limited abilities, Holland proved her worth over and over in WWII, escaping from the Philippines in 1942 and setting up shop in Australia, surviving the conflict, and completing 55 submarine refits during the war. 80-G-63334

This concept still exists in the Submarine Tendered Maintenance Period (SMTP) format, which can be accomplished in about three weeks alongside a submarine tender, despite today’s SSNs being far more advanced than the old fleet boats of the 1940s.

The hulking 23,000-ton USS Emory S. Land (AS 39), the lead ship of her three-hull class of the Navy’s most modern submarine tenders, is a combination of floating warehouse, hotel, and shipyard, packing over 50 specialized workshops in her 13 decks while housing over 1,000 bluejackets and MSC civilian mariners. Some 45 years young (one of her class was laid up in 1999 after a full career), she doesn’t move very often, instead allowing her charges to come to her for rest and support.

Since arriving at her current homeport in Guam in 2016, she has become such an enduring fixture there that she is often just referred to as “Building 39.”

However, Emory S. Land departed Guam on 17 May on a roaming deployment supporting the U.S. 7th Fleet, and last week made her seventh port call, HMAS Stirling, the Royal Australian Navy’s “stone frigate” on Garden Island outside of Perth.

Garden Island, Western Australia, Australia (Aug. 16, 2024) – Royal Australian Navy sailors prepare for the submarine tender USS Emory S. Land (AS 39) to moor at HMAS Stirling, Western Australia, Australia, Aug. 16. (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 2nd Class Darek Leary)

Carrying 30 RAN ratings since last winter, the tender is set to conduct an STMP at Stirling as part of AUKUS Pillar 1’s effort to support Australia’s acquisition of a sovereign conventionally armed, nuclear-powered submarine capability.

This is the first time Australians have participated in a U.S. submarine maintenance period in Australia.

Likewise, a forward team of Sailors from Land have been in Stirling awaiting the arrival of their ship and getting things ready.

Garden Island, Western Australia, Australia (Aug. 16, 2024) – U.S. Navy Sailors assigned to the submarine tender USS Emory S. Land (AS 39), temporarily attached to the Royal Australian Navy (RAN) Fleet Support Unit-West (FSU), and RAN sailors assigned to FSU, stand in formation as the Emory S. Land prepares to moor at HMAS Stirling, Western Australia, Australia, Aug. 16. (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 2nd Class Darek Leary)

Land just got her first customer yesterday.

240822-N-XP344-2170 HMAS STIRLING, Western Australia, Australia (Aug. 22, 2024) – Sailors assigned to the Virginia-class fast-attack submarine USS Hawaii (SSN 776) prepare to moor at HMAS Stirling, Western Australia, Australia, as part of a scheduled port visit before conducting a submarine tendered maintenance period (STMP) with the submarine tender USS Emory S. Land (AS 39), Aug. 22.(U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 1st Class Victoria Mejicanos)

As noted by the Navy:

The Emory S. Land crew will execute planned and emergent maintenance activities including the removal and reinstallation of an antenna located in Hawaii’s sail, divers visually inspecting the underwater towed array and torpedo tube muzzles, and simulating the removal and installation of a trim pump, to include full rigging and preparations.

Looks like this is really happening.

Warship Wednesday (on a Thursday) Aug. 22, 2024: Ghosts of Gagil Tomil

Here at LSOZI, we take off every Wednesday to look at the old steam/diesel navies of the 1833-1954 period and will profile a different ship each week. These ships have a life, a tale all their own, which sometimes takes them to the strangest places.- Christopher Eger

If you enjoy my always ad-free Warship Wednesday content, you can support it by buying me a cup of joe at https://buymeacoffee.com/lsozi

Warship Wednesday (on a Thursday) Aug. 22, 2024: Ghosts of Gagil Tomil

Via the U.S. Navy SEAL Museum.

Above we see UDT-10 swimmers (left to right) S1c Leonard Barnhill, SP(A)1c John MacMahon, LT M.R. Massey, SP(X)1c Bill Moore, and QM3c Warren Christensen on the cramped mess deck of the Balao-class fleet boat USS Burrfish (SS-312) on the early morning of 17 August 1944. Note the hearty “welcome home” breakfast of eggs, bacon, and coffee fortified with medicinal 6-year-old Overholt straight rye whiskey along with the diver’s working uniform of grease, grenades, knives, and swim trunks.

These men would mount the first and only submarine-launched reconnaissance operation accomplished by the Pacific UDTs during WWII, some 80 years ago this month.

Some of them are still missing.

The Balao Class

A member of the 180+-ship Balao class, she was one of the most mature U.S. Navy diesel designs of the World War Two era, constructed with knowledge gained from the earlier Gato class. Unlike those of many navies of the day, U.S. subs were “fleet” boats, capable of unsupported operations in deep water far from home. The Balao class was deeper diving (400 ft. test depth) than the Gato class (300 feet) due to the use of high-yield strength steel in the pressure hull.

Able to range 11,000 nautical miles on their reliable diesel engines, they could undertake 75-day patrols that could span the immensity of the Pacific. Carrying 24 (often unreliable) Mk14 Torpedoes, these subs often sank anything short of a 5,000-ton Maru or warship by surfacing and using their deck guns. They also served as the firetrucks of the fleet, rescuing downed naval aviators from right under the noses of Japanese warships.

Some 311 feet long overall, they were all-welded construction to facilitate rapid building. Best yet, they could be made for the bargain price of about $7 million in 1944 dollars (just $100 million when adjusted for today’s inflation) and completed from keel laying to commissioning in about nine months.

An amazing 121 Balaos were completed through five yards at the same time, with the following pennant numbers completed by each:

  • Cramp: SS-292, 293, 295-303, 425, 426 (12 boats)
  • Electric Boat: 308-313, 315, 317-331, 332-352 (42)
  • Manitowoc on the Great Lakes: 362-368, 370, 372-378 (15)
  • Mare Island on the West Coast: 304, 305, 307, 411-416 (9)
  • Portsmouth Navy Yard: 285-288, 291, 381-410, 417-424 (43)

We have covered a number of this class before, such as the sub-killing USS Greenfish, rocket mail slinger USS Barbero, the carrier-slaying USS Archerfish, the long-serving USS Catfish, the U-boat scuttling USS Atule, Spain’s “30-one-and-only,” and the frogman Cadillac USS Perch —but don’t complain, they have lots of great stories

Meet Burrfish

Our subject is the only U.S. Navy warship to carry the name of the tiny Atlantic swellfish. Built by the Portsmouth Navy Yard, she was laid down on 24 February 1943, launched that June, and commissioned on 14 September– her construction spanning just 202 days.

Officers and crewmen salute the colors as the Burrfish (SS-312) slides into the Atlantic at Portsmouth Navy Yard, Portsmouth, N.H., 18 June 1943 via Subvets

Her first skipper was 32-year-old LT (T/Cdr) William Beckwith Perkins, Jr., USN (USNA 1932), late of the Panama Canal Zone’s guardian submarine “Sugar Boat” USS S-11 (SS 116). A Keystoner born in Upper Turkeyfoot Township, Pennsylvania, he was the grandson of a swashbuckling horse soldier, Isaac Otey Perkins, who rode with the 5th Virginia Cavalry Regiment during the Civil War. Meanwhile, his uncle, Col. Nathaniel James Perkins, was head of the Fork Union Military Academy, which LT Perkins attended before his appointment to Annapolis.

After a four-month 8,000-mile shakedown cruise from New London to Key West– where she took part in two weeks of ASW exercises– through the Panama Canal to Pearl Harbor where Burrfish arrived on 6 January 1944, she prepped for her first war patrol. This included 11 underway exercises (four at night), degaussing, and sound listening tests.

1943-1944 USS Burrfish commanding officer William Beckwith Perkins, Jr. on the right in the second row.

War!

Getting into it, Burrfish departed Pearl Harbor on 2 February 1944 for her 1st War Patrol. She was ordered to patrol in the Caroline Islands area. She was a new boat with a green crew. It was the first war patrol for not only her skipper but also for 53 of her 83-member crew– some of which were added just a day before sailing. Her XO, LT Talbot Edward Harper (USNA 1937), had made five patrols already on the USS Greyback.

Burrfish met the enemy for the first time on 10 February– a Betty bomber while she was on the surface– and both left unharmed.

Sailing through a Japanese convoy on Valentine’s Day 1944 and firing off four unsuccessful Mark 14 torpedoes, she was depth charged for two hours, counting 22 strings of cans while she went deep– 500 feet– to avoid death. Keep in mind test depth on Balaos was listed as 400 feet.

She was depth charged again by a Japanese destroyer (8 cans) on 17 February.

This pace continued for the rest of the month, concluding on Leap Day when she fired three unsuccessful Mark 14s at a large Japanese freighter accompanied by two escorts and received 33 depth charges in return.

March likewise brought a three-torpedo attack on an escorted transport on the 3rd, which was unsuccessful.

Recalled, Burrfish ended her 1st War Patrol at Midway on 22 March, with several leaks from depth charge attacks and her unusable No. 1 torpedo tube which was jammed in two feet. She had counted 30 Japanese air contacts and 13 ship contacts in her 9,561-mile, 53-day sortie but failed to claim any.

A Combat Insignia for the patrol was not authorized by ComSubPac.

Three weeks later, repaired, rearmed, restored, and refueled, she left on her 2nd War Patrol on 14 April, ordered to stalk the Japanese Home Islands, east of Kyushu and south of Honshu. Her crew at this point was mostly made up of men who had earned their “dolphins” and she carried fish with updated warheads.

Logging 16 shipping contacts, mostly trawlers, Burrfish hit paydirt on the early morning of 7 May when she came across a tanker and, after stalking it for three hours, pumping three Mk 14-3As into its hull.

Post-war review boards confirmed she sank the German oiler Rossbach (5984 GRT) formerly the Norwegian A/S Norsk Rutefart-operated D/T Madrono, south of Murotosaki, Japan. She had been seized by the Hilfskreuzer Thor in June 1942.

The Britsh-built Madrono was caught by Thor while traveling in ballast from Melbourne to Abadan. While her Norwegian crew spent the rest of the war in Yokohama, Burrfish sent the tanker to the bottom with her German prize crew aboard.

Burrfish ended her second patrol at Pearl Harbor on 4 June, having covered 9,370 miles in 52 days, and was allowed her first Combat Insignia for her successful patrol. Her original XO, Talbot Harper, left the boat to receive command of USS Kingfish (SS 234), which he would take out on four war patrols and bag seven Japanese ships, earning the Silver Star in the process.

Then came the Yap operation

Frogman mission

With the need to map Axis-held beaches and clear obstacles for follow-on landings, the Navy began standing up what would become Navy Combat Demolition Units and later Underwater Demolition Teams in the early summer of 1943. Basic training was conducted in a nine-week program at Fort Pierce, Florida, later followed by six weeks of advanced training at the NCDT&E depot in Maui for Pacific-bound UDTs. The first teams to see combat were UDT-1 and UDT-2, which hit the beach during Operation Flintlock at Kwajalein and Roy-Namur in January 1944.

These “Demolitioneers” were primarily recruited from the Seabee dynamiting and demolition school but also included bluejackets from the fleet and the occasional Coast Guardsman. In the end, some 34 UDT teams were formed, 21 of which saw combat. Organized in four dive platoons and one HQ section, the units consisted of 13 officers (plus an Army and Navy liaison officer) and 70 (later 85) enlisted men. One team, UDT-10, absorbed five officers and 24 enlisted who had been trained as OSS Special Maritime Unit combat swimmers whose group, Operational Swimmer Group (OSG) II had been pushed into more mainstream use by Nimitz.

It was in early June that it was decided, by request of 3rd Amphibious Force Commander, VADM Teddy Wilkinson to ComSubPac, that a submarine make a reconnaissance of the Japanese-occupied Palau Islands so that Wilkinson and his staff knew what they were up against.

Burrfish drew the duty and was specially modified to carry a pared-down UDT platoon and its equipment. Two 7-man LCRS rubber rafts and several sets of oars were stored deflated in a pair of free-flooding, ventilated, 8-foot-long cylindrical tanks fitted to the sub’s deck abaft the conning tower. The boats were inflated topside through the use of a special valve fitted to her whistle line. Four torpedoes were landed from her forward torpedo room and the empty skids were arranged with mattresses for the 11-man team.

Special equipment, a German-made Bentzin Primarflex camera on a custom bracket, was rigged to allow the sub to take panoramic photos via her periscope while submerged. The trick had been learned on the USS Nautilus off Tarawa by her XO, LT Richard “Ozzie” Lynch who had tried and failed with three Navy-issued cameras before experimenting with his own personal Primarflex to outstanding results.

The Navy soon acquired a dozen of the German cameras, primarily second-hand via discreet classified ads in photography magazines, for submarine surveillance use.

Burrfish was also detailed to collect hydrographic data on the ocean currents in and around the islands.

The UDT Special-Mission Group assigned to Burrfish comprised Lt. Charles Kirkpatrick as commander, an unnamed support member, and nine assorted swimmers. Five of these divers– QM1c Robert A. Black, Jr. (8114404); SP(A)1c John MacMahon (4027186); SP(X)1c William Moore (6339607); S1c Leonard Barnhill (8903302); and QM3c Warren Christensen (8697250)– were OSS OSG II men from the newly formed UDT-10 which had only arrived from Fort Pierce that June and was just wrapping up its advanced training in Maui. Two (LT M.R. Massey and CGM Howard “Red” Roeder) were instructors tapped from UDT-1’s battle-hardened Maui training cadre. While two senior men (CBM John E. Ball and CM3c Emmet L. Carpenter) were drawn from the staff of Sub Base, Pearl Harbor.

This 11-member UDT det was carried in addition to Burrfish’s 72-member crew, 53 of which had already earned their dolphins on prior patrols.

Burrfish departed from Pearl Harbor for her 3rd War Patrol with her frogmen on 11 July, topping off her tanks at Midway on the 15th before continuing West. Starting on the 22nd, she began experiencing severe Japanese air activity whenever she surfaced and observed the patrol planes to be DF-ing her radar so she secured her SD and SJ sets and relied on her primitive APR-1 radar warning receiver and SPA-1 pulse analyzer equipment for the rest of the mission.

Closing with Angaur and Yap Islands by 29 July, she spent the next three weeks inspecting the beaches each morning and conducting submerged pericope photography– filling 16 rolls of 35mm film– and closely verifying and updating the pre-war Admiralty charts she had on hand for the islands. Bathythermograph cards were scrutinized and carefully logged to note thermoclines.

Night drifting on the surface with the UDT recon team posted as topside lookouts while the radar gang listened to the APR/SPA gear allowing Burrfish to effectively discover and map out the four Japanese search radars in the area.

On 9 August, Burrfish rendezvoused with sister USS Balao some 20 miles offshore. After challenging and confirming each other from 30,000 yards via quick SJ radar blips, a rubber boat was sent over at 2300 to transfer the film and data collected thus far so that, should Burrfish be lost in her subsequent inshore beach recon via swimmer, at least the collected intel would get back to VADM Wilkinson’s staff.

Between 11 and 18 August, Burrfish closed in close enough (3,000 yards) to send recon swimmers ashore three times via their man-powered rubber rafts, swimming the final 500 yards to deploy two pairs of swimmers while a fifth man remained behind with the raft. The UDT men visited the southeast tip of Peleliu Island and Yap on the first two trips, saving the northeast coast or Gagil Tomil for the third mission.

It was at Gagil Tomil on the night of 18/19 August that three men– Black, Roeder, and MacMahon– failed to return to Burrfish before dawn forced the sub to withdraw and submerge.

As noted by the DPAA on the three missing men: 

After setting out, one team returned to the boat after one of the swimmers became exhausted in the surf. His partner then returned to the island. The two men now in the boat waited until past the appointed rendezvous time for the swimmers to return. With no sign of the others, the men in the boat rowed closer to shore to investigate. They risked discovery by using flashlights to attempt to make contact, but received no response. Finally, the two men were forced to abandon the search and return to the submarine.

Scouting the shoreline the next day from dangerously close in, Burrfish failed to catch sight of the trio.

They repeated the same forlorn wait on the 20th.

Ordered to leave, LCDR Perkins regretfully complied. All three of the missing swimmers eventually received the Silver Star, posthumously.

Crew members of UDT 10 on submarine Burrfish at Peliliu. L-R Chief Ball, John MacMahon (MIA), Bob Black (MIA), Emmet L. Carpenter, Chief Howard Roeder. Via the U.S. Navy SEAL Museum.

Perkins noted in his report, “In this officer’s experience, this group of men was outstanding – both professionally and as shipmates. They have had a long and difficult cruise in the submarine but have acquitted themselves admirably. It is a tragedy that Roeder, MacMahon, and Black are not on board.”

Burrfish concluded her 3rd Patrol at Majuro in the Marshall Islands after 47 days at sea on 27 August, logging 10,600 miles. It was deemed a successful patrol due to the quantity and quality of information obtained, with a Combat Insignia authorized by ComSubPac. However, all further UDT operations in the Pacific would be via littoral capable surface ships, typically APDs (converted destroyers, aka “Green Dragons”) and LCIs/LSTs.

On return to Hawaii, the three remaining OSS OSG II members of the UDT Special Mission Group (Christensen, Barnhill, and Moore) were put in for silver stars (all others recommended for bronze) and rolled into the Maui cadre to train incoming swimmers from the states.

With Station HYPO decoding subsequent enemy transmissions that the three missing UDT men were captured alive by the Japanese and interrogated by notoriously brutal Intelligence specialists who labeled them as members of a “Bakuha-tai” (demolition unit), the pending invasion of Yap was scrubbed, and the group was bypassed in line with the U.S. island-hopping strategy, her 6,000 man garrison surrendering post-war.

Meanwhile, the operation to capture Palau and Peleliu (Operation Stalemate II) would kick off in mid-September.

By that time, Burrfish was already on another war patrol.

Wolfpack Nights

Following a three-week turnaround alongside the sub tender USS Sperry, Burrfish departed from Majuro for her 4th War Patrol on 18 September 1944, bound for the Bonin Islands.

The patrol would be an extended operation in two parts, conducted as an element of a Yankee Wolfpack (Coordinated Attack Group 17.24) under the overall command of CDR Thomas “Burt” Klakring, commander of SubDiv 101, who would fly his flag on USS Silversides (SS 236) as afloat commodore.

The group, unofficially dubbed “Burt’s Brooms,” included not only Silversides and Burrfish but also USS Saury (SS 189), Tambor (SS 198), Trigger (SS 237), Sterlet (SS 392), and Ronquil (SS 396). While several of the boats were very seasoned– Saury, Silversides, and Trigger were on their 11th and 12th War Patrols (and would retire from combat service at the end of the patrol) — others were decidedly green, with Ronquil and Sterlet only on their second patrols.

The first phase, which lasted 48 days in the Nansei Shoto area, saw the Burrfish claim a pre-dawn 27 October kill (not confirmed by post-war boards) on an 8,500-ton cargo ship after she fired six torpedoes into a Japanese convoy and heard three explosions.

She also survived an encounter on 30 October in which an armed vessel fired a 6-round salvo at her before she submerged and another pack member sank her attacker. It is nice to have friends.

Then came a five-day diversion (5-10 November) to Saipan to tie up next to the tender USS Fulton (AS-11), during which Klakring and all of his pack’s skippers would plan their anti-patrol boat sweep between the Bonins and Japan proper. The reason for the sweep was to sterilize the zone ahead of Halsey’s Task Force 38 which was scheduled to raid the Home Islands so that the picket boats couldn’t alert Tokyo of the approaching carriers. However, as Halsey was forced to cancel the raid due to lingering fighting over Leyte at the last minute, the subs were left holding the bag and ran the sweep as more of a dress rehearsal.

Plagued by terrible surface conditions which made torpedo attacks all but useless and gun actions more dangerous to the crews than the enemy, the 15-day/7 submarine sweep only managed to bag just four Japanese pickets as a group (15 November: Silversides sank guard boat Nachiryu Maru No. 12 while Saury bagged the guard boat Kojo Maru. 16 November: Tambor sank Taikai Maru No. 3.).

The fourth came in a surface action on 17 November 1944 Burrfish and Ronquil got in a gunfight with what turned out to be the Japanese auxiliary patrol boat Fusa Maru (177 GRT) south of Hachiro Jima, Japan. In the fight, Burrfish was hit by Japanese gunfire. Two men, Cox. H.A. Foster and S1c R.D. Lopez, were wounded.

It was a close-up affair, with the trawler within 700 yards, and Burrfish received superficial small caliber hits to her after conning tower. Ammunition expended was 9 4-inch (2 Common, 7 HC), 720 rounds of 20mm, and 500 rounds of 30.06 from her M1919s.

Meanwhile, Ronquil also suffered damage from the premature detonation of one of her 40mm Bofors shells which blew two holes in her pressure hull and required a risky topside underway repair (by her XO no less) to be able to dive again.

With Burt’s Brooms disbanded, Burrfish wrapped up her 4th War Patrol at Pearl Harbor on 2 December by tying up alongside USS Pelais, having logged some 15,700 miles across 75 days.

It was at Pearl that LCDR Perkins would depart his submarine, handing command over to LCDR M.H. Lytle, formerly of USS Sturgeon (SS 187) and with eight war patrols to his credit, just before Christmas.

USS Burrfish (SS-312) at Pearl Harbor, circa 1945. Courtesy of H. Leavitt Horton, Sr. NH 92322

Lifeguard Days

Following the Christmas and New Year holidays, Lytle took Burrfish out to sea on 3 January 1945 to begin her 5th War Patrol. She was ordered to take up station south of Japan’s Nanpo Shoto area to serve as a floating lifeguard and weather station to support B-29 raids on the Home Islands. Arriving at the station on the 23rd, she spotted her first incoming “aluminum overcast” wave that afternoon– with her SJ radar set picking up contacts as far off as 34,000 yards.

When USS Pogy (SS 266) and Ronquil entered the area the next day, Lytle, as senior officer afloat, assumed command of the three-boat wolfpack (TG 17.29) and parked astride the Hachija Shima-Chichi Jima shipping lane with the hopes of bagging something between B-29 sorties.

Unfortunately, shipping was slim and the only action Burrfish saw during the patrol was a trio of long-range (15,000 yards) Mark 18 torpedoes sent after a 300-ton Japanese patrol craft on the horizon on 11 February– for which she had to suffer a severe depth charging that required her to put in to Midway for three days of emergency repairs.

Burrfish ended her 5th War Patrol alongside USS Apollo at Guam on 24 February, having covered 8,130 miles in 52 days. ComSubPac did not authorize a Combat Insignia for the patrol.

With repairs pushing back her normal three-week turnaround cycle, Burrfish didn’t begin her 6th War Patrol until 25 March, with orders to patrol the Luzon Strait and off Formosa. A sleeper cruise, her war history notes “Thirty successive days were spent on lifeguard station for the 5th Air Force but no opportunity for rescue presented itself.”

The only “action” seen was in deep-sixing some floating mines and a derelict abandoned 40-foot sampan with her deck guns and in a pre-dawn gunfire raid on the Japanese radio station on Batan Island.

Burrfish ended her 6th war patrol at Saipan on 4 May 1945 after 65 days and 13,600 miles. ComSubPac, in its message not authorizing a Combat Insignia for the patrol, wished “better luck next time” but there would be no next time.

Sent back to her birthplace at Portsmouth Navy Yard at Kittery, Maine for a major overhaul, where she arrived in late June, she was still there when VJ Day hit.

She was decommissioned on 10 October 1946 at Sub Base New London and laid up there as part of the Atlantic Reserve Fleet.

Burrfish is listed as one of the Balaos in Jane’s 1946 entry.

Burrfish received five battle stars for her World War II service and claimed 13,600 tons across her six (three successful) patrols.

Cold War SSR Days

Recommissioned on 2 November 1948 after just two years in mothballs, she went back home to Portsmouth Naval Shipyard for conversion to a Radar Picket Submarine and was redesignated SSR-312 on 27 January 1949.

A total of ten old fleet boats were converted to SSRs under the Migraine I, II & III (SCB-12A) programs.

Burrfish Thames River, circa 1948, on the way to her SSR conversion, via Navsource. Note she has a snorkel and no guns.

Her “Migraine I” conversion included landing her 4-inch gun as well as half of her torpedo tubes and gaining a bunch of radar gear. She retained her open fairwater, with the bridge being shifted to the forward cigarette deck, and a 40 mm Bofors taking the place of her old gun in an instance of one of the final new installations of cannon on an American submarine. Only one other SSR received the Migraine I conversion, the Tench-class boat USS Tigrone (SS-419).

As described by the Submarine Force Library and Museum Association: 

In this modification, the space formerly used as the crew’s mess and galley was turned into a CIC, and the after torpedo tubes were removed to allow the entire after torpedo compartment to be used for berthing. Two of the forward tubes were also eliminated to make additional room for storage and equipment. More importantly, however, the two radar antennas were raised on masts, with an AN/BPS-2 search radar sprouting from the after portion of the sail, and the height finder mounted on a free-standing tower just abaft it. This put the 15-foot search antenna some 40 feet above the water, with the height finder only a little below.

Burrfish returned to duty with the active fleet on 7 February 1950 and was assigned to Submarine Squadron 6 at Norfolk.

Burrfish broadside view during her trials as an SSR, conducted on 27 January 1950, via Navsource

Burrfish as radar picket in Med. Note that her 40mm gun has been removed by this time.

Burrfish as radar picket in Europe, French postcard, 23 May 1952. She still has her Bofors.

Between February 1950 and June 1956, she completed three lengthy deployments with the 6th Fleet in the Mediterranean and “participated in several major type and inter-type exercises and operated along the eastern seaboard as a radar picket ship.” During this time she also earned an Occupation Clasp for service in the Med (29 Sep 50 – 23 Jan 51).

As part of SubDiv 62, all of the Atlantic-based radar pickets were collected including Burrfish’ old “Burt’s Brooms” buddy, Requin, two Migraine II conversions: Burrfish (SSR-312) and Tigrone (SSR-419), and the Migrane IIIs Pompon (SSR-267), Ray (SS-271), and Redfin (SSR-272) along with Sailfish

USS Yellowstone (AD-27) in Augusta Bay, Sicily, during her Mediterranean cruise, May- October 1950. Alongside her are (l-r): USS Sea Robin (SS-407); USS Torsk ( SS-423); USS Sea Leopard (SS-483); USS Burrfish (SSR-312); USS John R. Pierce (DD-753); USS Barton (DD-722); USS Shea (DM-30). In the background is the USS Harry F. Bauer (DM-26). 80-G-428712

On 5 June 1956, with the SSR program winding down and new SSNs arriving in the fleet, Burrfish sailed from Norfolk to New London where she reported for inactivation.

She was placed out of commission, in reserve, on 17 December 1956.

Canadian Service

As we have covered prior, the Royal Canadian Navy had a series of fits and starts that included a pair of small (144-foot, 300-ton) American-built coastal boats, HMCS CC-1 and CC-2, which served in the Great War, another pair of American-made 435-ton H-class submarines (HMCS CH-14 and CH-15) which served briefly in the 1920s, and two ex-Kriegsmarine U-boats (HMCS U-190 and U-889) which served (or at least floated) for a couple years after WWII.

Looking to regrow their nascent submarine arm in 1960 after a 13-year break, the RCN inspected 10 American mothballed diesel boats and picked Burrfish with an initial five-year loan and the agreement that Ottawa would pay for the cost of reactivation and modification. It made sense as Burrfish had only been laid up at this point for three years and had already received both a snorkel and improved higher-capacity batteries in her 1949 SSR conversion.

The mission set for the new boat was to be one of an OPFOR for Canada’s very professional ASW force, with the RCN noting, “During and after the war it had been the custom of the RN to provide ‘tame’ submarines for anti-submarine training in Nova Scotia waters. By 1961, with a growing fleet of new anti-submarine ships based at Esquimalt, it had become desirable to have a submarine stationed there as well.”

She received the name HMCS Grilse (S 71) after a Great War era yacht turned fast torpedo boat and was commissioned into the RCN on 11 May 1961. Notably, while the Canadians had run six different subs prior, Grilse was the first to have an actual name rather than just a number. 

HMCS Grilse. Note her “clean” appearance with SSR radars removed and no mounted guns.

H.M.C.S. Grilse – Esquimalt,BC – Aug. 22, 1966

HMCS Grilse

HMCS Grilse

HMCS Grilse

USS Burrfish SS-312 (Balao class) was loaned to Canada and commissioned as HMCS Grilse (71) on May 11th, 1961, seen here at Esquimalt with RCN WWII submarine vets aboard for a tour. Note the details of her snorkel and radar arrangement.

Keeping her slightly longer than her five-year loan, Grilse was withdrawn in December 1968, returned to U.S. Navy custody at Bremerton, and was struck from the Naval Register on 19 July 1969.

Grilse proved such a good investment for the Canadians that they sought to purchase four new Barbel-class diesel boats from the U.S., giving them two boats each at Halifax and Esquimalt, but the ever-thrifty government instead opted for a trio of British Oberon-class boats ordered from HM Royal Dockyard Chatham. These three, HMCS Ojibwa (SS 72), Onondaga (SS 73), and Okanagan (SS 74), entered Canadian service between 1965 and 1968.

On 2 December 1968, the mothballed USS Argonaut (SS 475) was sold to the RCN for $150,000 and renamed HMCS Rainbow (SS 75), named after one of the first ships ever to enter service with the Canadians back in 1910, giving the Canadian a solid four boats until 1975 when the old Tench-class fleet boat was retired, opting for an all-Oberon force until 2000.

On 19 November 1969, ex-Burrfish/Grilse was expended in a SINKEX, destroyed on the surface while under remote control by the brand new Mk 46 ASW torpedo dropped by a SH-3 Sea King helicopter off San Clemente Island in an early test of that weapon system.

November 19, 1969: HMCS Grilse submarine was sunk by USN off California

Epilogue

Neither the Americans nor the Canadians have used the names Burrfish or Grilse since our SS/SSR-312/S-71 was disposed of.

Her bell, marked Burrfish on one side and Grisle on the other, is on display at CFB Esquimalt.

Burrfish’s war history, plans, deck logs, and patrol reports are in the National Archives.

Her Canadian vets have a For Postery’s Sake page for Grilse’s Cold War service.

Six Balao-class submarines are preserved (for now) as museum ships across the country.

Please visit one of these fine ships and keep the legacy alive:

-USS Batfish (SS-310) at War Memorial Park in Muskogee, Oklahoma.
USS Becuna (SS-319) at Independence Seaport Museum in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.
USS Bowfin (SS-287) at USS Bowfin Submarine Museum & Park in Honolulu, Hawaii.
USS Lionfish (SS-298) at Battleship Cove in Fall River, Massachusetts.
– USS Pampanito (SS-383) at San Francisco Maritime National Historical Park in San Francisco, California, (which played the part of the fictional USS Stingray in the movie Down Periscope).
USS Razorback (SS-394) at Arkansas Inland Maritime Museum in North Little Rock, Arkansas.

The three UDT swimmers left behind at Palau– Specialist First Class (Athletic Instructor) John Churchill MacMahon, Quartermaster First Class Robert A. Black Jr., and Chief Gunner’s Mate (Aviation) Howard Livingston Roeder, are among the 72,040 unaccounted for U.S. military personnel from WWII as tracked by the Defense POW/MIA Accounting Agency. They were memorialized on the Walls of the Missing at the Manila American Cemetery in the Philippines and at the UDT/SEAL Memorial Wall at Fort Pierce. The search for their remains continues, with their cases marked in the DPAA category of “Active Pursuit.”

Recent expeditions to Palau to help find more information about the trio were mounted by Project Recover in conjunction with the National Navy UDT -SEAL Museum. The case is personal for the Naval Special Warfare community, as it is the only combat mission ever accomplished by NSW operators where men were lost in action and their remains never recovered.

As for the rest of UDT-10, it went on to see much action in at Anguar Island, Palau, and in the Philippines before it was disestablished at Fort Pierce on 2 February 1946. It was not one of the four (UDT-11 and 12 at Coronado, 21 and 22 at Little Creek) downsized teams formed for post-war service. It was never stood back up.

Burrfish’s plank owner skipper, William Beckwith Perkins, who commanded her on her first four war patrols, and who was at her combat periscope when she sank the tanker Rossbach and fought off Fusa Maru, remained in the Navy after the war and retired as a rear admiral in 1959 after 26 years of service. Of the 465 American submarine skippers who pulled at least one war patrol, only about 60 ever managed to earn a star in the promotion-slim postwar sub force (a club he shared with Burrfish’s first XO, Talbot Harper).

Perkins passed in 1992, age 81, at Fork Union, Virginia, and is remembered as a distinguished alumni of the Fort Union Military Academy and Annapolis.

His son, who inherited his papers, has been influential in documenting the loss of the UDT men at Gagil Tomil.


Ships are more than steel
and wood
And heart of burning coal,
For those who sail upon
them know
That some ships have a
soul.


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Le samouraï, adieu

Did it ever really get any cooler than Alain Delon?

An avid gun collector, Indochina vet, and movie tough guy who influenced generations of action filmmakers has passed away.

Alain Delon was born in November 1935 in the Paris suburb of Sceaux, France, and four years of his childhood living under German occupation.

After turbulent adolescence with time at a foster home and Catholic boarding school followed by a stint in the French Fusiliers marins during the Indochinese War in the 1950s— which included service at Dien Bein Phu and catching a court-martial charge for liberating a jeep in Saigon for personal use– Delon found himself discharged and on the streets of Paris and soon found him living as a literal pimp in Montmartre.

The French Navy and Marines in the 1950s had a war that precluded the American “Brown Water Navy” of the 1960s and 70s. U.S. Navy Historical & Heritage Command photo NH79376

The square-jawed young man caught a break in the movie industry that saw him appear in the first adaptation of “The Talented Mr. Ripley” (“Plein soleil”) in 1960 and on to a host of films working alongside some of France’s most iconic directors to include Jean-Luc Godard, Jean‑Pierre Melville, and Louis Malle.

It was his tough guy roles, alternating between gangsters early on and detectives later in life, that saw Delon make his biggest marks, including 1967’s Bushido assassin film “Le Samouraï,” 1970’s “The Red Circle (Le cercle rouge),” 1973’s “Big Guns (Les grands fusils),” 1975’s ” The Gypsy (Le gitan),” and 1982’s “The Shock (Le Choc).” He even crossed over into American cinema, notably in the spy film “Scorpio” opposite Burt Lancaster.

These films, many of which were later cited as favorites and influences by later action directors like Quentin Tarantino and John Woo and actors such as Keanu Reeves, Delon built a lasting cult following around the world.

The Internet Movie Firearms Database has more than 40 listings of the guns he used on-screen, leaning heavily toward Smith & Wesson revolvers and Colt M1911s with the occasional Glock, Beretta, and Manurhin thrown in for good measure.

A firearms enthusiast and collector ever since his military stint in Indochina, Delon maintained a personal shooting range at his home because, well, freedom, right? Sadly, the long arm of the law caught up with him earlier this year and seized 72 unlicensed guns from his estate, because France. 

Delon passed on Sunday, aged 88, leaving behind “at least” four children. 

Reposz en paix, Alain.

Super BB vs America’s Largest Cruiser

This great overhead shot at Norfolk Naval Base’s piers, on 20 August 1944, gives a good comparison of two of the Navy’s newest surface combatants at the time. The newly commissioned Iowa-class battleship USS Missouri (BB-63) is the largest ship in the center, and she is flanked by the large (not battle) cruiser USS Alaska (CB-1). Meanwhile, the jeep carrier USS Croatan (CVE-25), her deck crowded with Wildcats and Avengers, brings up the rear while assorted tin cans of the Fletcher, Four-Pipe, and Flush-Deck classes dot the far pier.

Official U.S. Navy Photograph, now in the collections of the National Archives. 80-G-190547

A closer inset of just the heavyweights, fresh off their East Coast shakedown cruises, shows off the 45,000-ton/887-foot Missouri and her main battery of nine 16″/50 guns in three triple turrets and 20 5″/38 DP guns in 10 twin mounts. This compared to the 30,000-ton/808-foot Alaska’s nine 12″/50 guns in three triple turrets and 12 5″/38 DP guns in six twin mounts.

With very similar layouts, one almost seems like a slimmed-down version of the other.

Both ships were fast– capable of 33 knots– and had long legs– over 12,000 nm unrefueled– while armor on Alaska (9-inch belt, 12.8-inch around the conning tower) was only incrementally less than Missouri who sported a 12-inch belt and up to 17 inches in the CT.
However, Alaska, while she would have no doubt proved her worth in the Java Sea in 1942, just two years later was too little too late and was never properly utilized. Hence, this faux battlewagon, used to provide AAA screens to aircraft carriers and deliver the occasional naval gunfire support, only saw six months of active service and was decommissioned for good in 1947. After 13 years in mothballs, she was scrapped.
Meanwhile, we all know Missouri’s history.

Revisiting the Wrecks of Massacre Bay

Attu Island in the windswept Western Aleutians, was, briefly, the frontline in the war in the Pacific.

Occupied by the forces of the Empire of Japan for 458 days (7 June 1942 to 8 September 1943) it was the first time a foreign power set up camp in the continental U.S. since the War of 1812.

Massacre Bay, Attu

OS2U Kingfisher of VS-56 over Massacre Bay Area, Attu, Aleutian Islands, 16 November 1943. NARA 80-GK-1536

Last month, a 10-day expedition on the dive ship Norseman II, led by East Carolina University, in conjunction with NOAA and the Aleutian Islands WWII National Monument, surveyed portions of Attu’s completely undocumented underwater battlefield.

They discovered and mapped the underwater graves of the 3,478-ton American cable ship SS Dellwood, which struck an underwater pinnacle on 19 July 1943 during the liberation of the island and sank in Massacre Bay off Attu, as well as two Japanese freighters, the 6,100-ton Kotohira Maru and 4,016-ton Cheribon Maru, which had been sunk by USAAF 11th Air Force B-24s on 6 January 1943 and by B-26s on Thanksgiving Day 1942, respectively.

Cheribon Maru, who took 21 of her crew and Army gunners with her, was found just over 1,000 feet from Attu’s shore, while Kotorhira Maru, which had gone down with 120 of her crew and embarked personnel, is about two miles off the island. They are considered the “only two Japanese military ships believed to be situated within U.S. state waters.”

Dellwood

Dellwood

Kotohira Maru

“Overall, the project marks the beginning of what is sure to be an increased focus on the oft-forgotten Aleutian Island campaign and by extension Alaska’s World War II history,” said Dr. Jason Raupp, ECU assistant professor of history in the maritime studies program.

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