Category Archives: for those lost at sea

The Destroyer Escort that Fought like a Battleship

Posted on by 2 comments

80 years ago today, a dramatic photo of the side launch of the future USS Samuel B. Roberts (DE-413) leaving the ways at Brown Shipbuilding Company, Houston, Texas, 20 January 1944.

Naval History and Heritage Command photo NH 82850

The first American warship named in honor of Coxswain Samuel Booker Roberts, Jr., “a good-looking kid with a cockeyed smile” who earned the Navy Cross, posthumously, at Guadalcanal in 1942, the John C. Butler-class destroyer escort was commissioned on 28 April 1944. She was sponsored at the above launch by Mrs. Anna [Wexler] Roberts, mother of Samuel, and soon sailed for the Pacific to avenge his death. Among her plankowners was Roberts’ younger brother, Jack, who was the “voice” of the Samuel B. Roberts on the ship’s intercom.

Her first combat, as part of RADM Thomas L. Sprague’s Escort Carrier TG 77.4, came while a member of the ill-fated Taffy 3 task unit. There, at the Battle off Samar on 25 October 1944, she and her fellow tin cans attempted to fight off a group of much larger Japanese cruisers and battleships, and the brave little greyhound succumbed to 14-inch shells and her crew– Jack Roberts included— endured three hellish days in the water before rescue.

From launching to loss was 274 days.

The ship’s national ensign was saved by Chief Torpedoman Rudy Skau and is part of the NHHC’s artifact collection.

She is remembered by the Samuel B. Roberts Survivors Association. 

Her shattered hull was located more than four miles beneath the surface of the Philippine Sea in 2022. 

The ship’s fighting spirit, however, echoes through the Navy.

A bronze plaque commemorating the crew of DE 413 was aboard the Oliver Hazard Perry-class guided missile frigate USS Samuel B. Roberts (FFG 58) when the ship struck an Iranian mine in the Persian Gulf on April 14, 1988. The mine blew a 15-foot hole in the hull of the ship, breaking its keel. Because of the fast actions of the crew, after a five-hour effort to purge water and fight fires, the ship was saved. The captain of the vessel, Cmdr. Paul Rinn noted that while running to their stations to save the ship, the FFG crew would touch the plaque for good luck to honor and recognize the bravery of the crew of DE 413.

S1c Ward finally comes home

Posted on by Leave a comment

20-year-old Navy Seaman 1st Class James Richard Ward was aboard his first ship out of basic, the mighty battlewagon USS Oklahoma, on that fateful morning of 7 December 1941.

As noted by the Navy at the time, the order was given to abandon ship, but Ward “remained in a turret holding a flashlight so the remainder of the turret crew could see to escape, thereby sacrificing his own life.”

Navy Seaman 1st Class James Richard Ward/USS Maryland floats alongside the capsized USS Oklahoma after the Pearl Harbor attacks on Dec. 7, 1941. USS West Virginia is burning in the background.

His actions that day left him counted among the missing from the one-sided battle, entombed in his ship, and the Navy later presented his family with the Medal of Honor and invited them to christen a destroyer escort (DE-243) named to recognize him in 1943.

Last month, S1c Ward, identified in 2019 from recovered remains, was finally brought home, and buried at Arlington at the request of his family.

Warship Wednesday, Nov. 8, 2023: Wrong Place at the Wrong Time

Posted on by Leave a comment

Here at LSOZI, we take off every Wednesday for a 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

Warship Wednesday, Nov. 8, 2023: Wrong Place at the Wrong Time

Above we see the mighty King Edward VII class battleship HMS Britannia, circa 1908, in all her fine peacetime glory. She would give more wartime service than her sisters and came within two days of finishing the conflict unscathed, tragically sent to the bottom 105 years ago this week.

The King Edward VII class

Hitting over 17,000 tons when fully loaded and with a 453-foot overall length, the eight battleships of the King Edward VII class (King Edward VII, Africa, Britannia, Commonwealth, Dominion, Hibernia, Hindustan, and New Zealand/Zealandia) were big for pre-Dreadnoughts (more than 2,000 tons heavier and 30 feet longer than the preceding Duncan class), as well as being fast, capable of hitting 18.5 knots on a pair of triple expansion steam engines driven by as many as 18 water tube boilers.

King Edward VII, the class leader, was completed in February 1905, just 22 months before HMS Dreadnought.

Carrying a 9-inch Krupp armor belt with barbettes, turrets, conning tower, and bulkheads thickening to as much as 12 inches, they could take abuse and could dish it out as well in the form of four BL 12″/40 (30.5 cm) Mark IX guns-– which were the first large-caliber British gun to use a Welin breech mechanism that considerably shortened the loading time. 

Forecastle of HMS Britannia ca. October 1914. Note the forward twin 12-inch/40 mount

Rather than the 6-inch secondary battery of the Duncans, the KEVIIs carried another four 9.2″/47 (23.4 cm) Mark Xs in single gun beam turrets with about a 170-degree arc of fire and 10 6-inch casemates as a tertiary battery.

Note one of the four single 9.2-inch mounts

Added to this were nearly 30 12- and 3-pounder counter-boat guns and a quartet of 18-inch torpedo tubes.

Jane’s 1914 on the King Edward VII class

Had it not been for the fact that Dreadnought came along in 1906, the KEVIIs would have been top-of-the-line but instead were obsolete almost as soon as they were finished. In fact, other than the two Lord Nelson-class battleships (which were just improved KEVIIs) the King Edward VII class was the last pre-Dreadnoughts ordered by the Admiralty.

Meet Britannia

Our subject is the sixth RN warship– going back to a 100-gun first-rate ship of the line launched in 1682– to carry the name of Britannia, the goddess and personification of Great Britain.

National Service Britannia poster by Septimus E. Scott Great Wr

One of the most majestic and hard-serving of the five prior ships (all sail-powered) was the 120-gun first-rate launched in 1820 and remained in the line through 1859 then endured as a training hulk for some years after.

HMS Britannia entering Devonport Harbor, 1820. Hand-colored lithograph print, from a painting by Thomas Lyle Hornbrook, (L) and HMS Britannia, a 120-gun first-rate ship of the line, lithograph by John Ward (R).

Laid down on 4 February 1904 at the Portsmouth Dockyard, our Britannia was launched that December and entered service in September 1906, just three months before Dreadnought— a short run on top!

Battleship HMS Britannia 1906 Symonds & Co Collection IWM Q 21042

Battleship HMS Britannia Photo by E Hopkins IWM Q 75235

Still, the new class of KEVIIs were majestic for a time and served as a unit with first the Channel Fleet and then the Home Fleet, with the class leader as the flag of each in turn.

Noted maritime artist William Lionel Wyllie sailed with the squadron and captured them in his eye.

Battleships steaming in two columns towards the artist’s viewpoint, led by the ‘King Edward VII’class ‘Britannia’ of 1904 on the right by William Lionel Wyllie. The ships are all of the type colloquially known as pre-dreadnoughts and the date is 1906-07, since ‘Britannia’ was the only one to carry a white funnel band mid-way on each funnel and she only wore these bands in those years. Wyllie has apparently used a very large number of pins to hold the paper down, suggesting the sketch may have been made at sea. National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London RMG PU9918

“No.2 / Reduce speed to 30 Revolutions’ [‘King Edward VII’, ‘New Zealand’, ‘Hibernia’, ‘Britannia’, ‘Hindustan’, ‘Africa’] by William Lionel Wyllie. Numbered and inscribed by the artist, as title, and with the ship names identifying those shown. It is one of a group of four (PAE1035-PAE1038) showing battleships of the ‘King Edward VII’ class during squadron evolutions in the period 1907-09 while serving in the Channel Fleet. The set, each within a ruled frame, was probably made for illustration use. National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London RMG PV1036

A general view of Line B with the battleships at anchor during the Naval Review or Kings Review of the Fleet at Spithead. HMS King Edward VII in front, with Britannia, Hindostan, and Dominion behind. The ship on the column on the left side of the photo is the Queen. The ships were in Spithead for a naval review witnessed by King Edward VII, in July 1909. National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London RMG 4793355124

King Edward VII-class battleships on maneuvers ca. 1909

By 1912, with the number of modern fast battleships filling the ranks of the Royal Navy, the eight still young but out-gunned KEVIIs made up the newly-formed 3rd Battle Squadron, where they were nicknamed “the wobbly eight” due to their slight tendency to roll in heavy seas and have issues holding formation due to their hull form.

HMS Hindustan seen astern of HMS Britannia ca. October 1914. While they had long legs, the KEVII’s were not great seaboats

And, of course, running these coal-eating and steel-spitting leviathans required a lot of hard work. 

Royal Naval Coaling Crew, HMS Britannia 12.9.09. The class had bunkerage for 2,150 tons of coal and another 400 of oil for superheating, allowing a range of 7,000nm at 10 knots. 

Soon after they were ordered to the Mediterranean to stand by during the Balkan Wars but were back in home waters by 1913.

Royal Navy’s Third Battleship Squadron at Valetta’s Grand Harbour, Malta – 1st December 1912. Working from left to right HMS Hindustan (bow only), Africa, Hibernia, and King Edward VII.

War!

The 3rd Battle Squadron, under VADM Edward Bradford, spent the tail end of 1914 and most of 1915 racing around in support of the cruisers on the Northern Patrol but managed to not bump into the Germans.

Battleship HMS Britannia 1914 Symonds & Co Collection IWM Q 21043A

It was during this period that Britannia ran aground on Inchkeith in January 1915 and suffered severe damage that took her offline for repairs at Devonport. Further, Hibernia and Zealandia were detached for Gallipoli.

The squadron was permanently reduced in early 1916 when class leader King Edward VII struck a mine laid by the German auxiliary cruiser SMS Mowe off Cape Wrath and took 10 hours to sink. The remaining seven members, with Hibernia and Zealandia, returned and Britannia back from repair, screened by the 3rd Cruiser Squadron (HMS Antrim, Devonshire, and Roxburgh) and the destroyers Beaver, Druid, Ferret, Hind, Hornet, Mastiff, Matchless, and Sandfly, was left behind when the Grand Fleet went to scrap with Scheer at Jutland in May.

Post-Jutland and with the Allied effort to force the Dardanelles abandoned, there was little for Britannia and the rest of the 3rd BS to do in Northern Europe, and she and sister Africa were sent to rove in warmer waters.

Britannia left Portsmouth on 18 October 1916 for Taranto via Gibraltar and Malta, arriving in the Italian port on 20 November. She would remain there through Christmas and New Years, conducting training and sending parties ashore before shoving off on 16 February 1917 for the South Atlantic, turning left at Gibraltar and heading to Freetown, Sierra Leone then setting out to escort a six-ship convoy from West Africa to Bermuda in late March.

Returning to Sierra Leone in May, Britannia would sortie 3,700 miles down the continent to Simonstown, South Africa, beginning on 7 June 1917 in convoy with two merchantmen, passing the French cruiser Dupleix and Japanese cruiser Tsushima with their own Northbound convoys on the way. Britannia would arrive in South Africa then promptly turn back around on the 26th with another Freetown-bound eight-ship convoy, arriving there on 11 July when she hoisted the flag of RADM T.D.L. Sheppard, commanding the 9th Cruiser Squadron.

After a quick run to Ascension, Britannia would return to Freetown to pick up a 10-ship convoy to Simonstown on 8 August and remain in South African waters for a spell, shifting to Cape Town, before heading back to Sierra Leone at the end of September– with the battleship herself carrying a load of bullion north in addition to her escort role.

“Nearing Cape Town.” Portrait of a ship and the Table mountain range behind taken from the SS Durham Castle which was being escorted by HMS Britannia from Sierra Leone to Cape Town. The image is from an album chronicling the wartime experiences of Archibald Clive Irvine (1893-1974) in East Africa. During this time he would meet Dr John W Arthur which in turn would lead to his missionary work at Chogoria in Kenya.

This 8,000-mile roundtrip convoy-and-gold run would repeat another five times (November 1917, January 1918, March 1918, May 1918, and July 1918), shelping gold from South African mines to Freetown for further shipment to England from there, then returning to Simonstown with ammunition and stores that had been sent down from Europe.

In general, she would accomplish the trip in 15 days from port to port, making the 3,700-mile trip at about 10 knots the whole way. While the idea of a sole battlewagon with no other escorts shepherding a slow convoy would seem ludicrous to most in WWII, in 1917-18 it wasn’t a bad idea when you keep in mind this was off Africa and the most likely German warship encountered would have been the occasional auxiliary cruiser commerce raider of the same sort as SMS Mowe (9,800t, 4×6″, 1x 4″, 2xtt, 13 knots) and SMS Wolf (11,000t, 8×6″, 4xtt, 11 knots). It was boring work, but Britannia found a useful niche that arguably needed a pre-dreadnought battleship to fill. Meanwhile, her six sisters left behind in Europe were at this time being relegated to ignoble use as depot, training, floating barracks, and support ships.

On 20 October 1918, she set off for Gibraltar on her final convoy run.

While our battleship did not (knowingly) come across a U-boat in all of these African cruises, between June 1917 and September 1918, her deck logs noted that she put her periscope target over the side for gunners and spotters to work with while underway on no less than 39 occasions while she “exercised submarine stations.” Besides, other than the rare case of the large cruiser submarine U-154 appearing off the coast of Liberia in April 1918, no German U-boat of the Great War made it into the South Atlantic.

In fact, Britannia almost made it to the Armistice without having a bad interaction with the Kaiser’s underwater sharks.

Almost.

The Tragic Final Act

The UB III type submarine SM UB 50 under Oblt. Heinrich Kukat was roving out from the Med in November 1918 from her home as part of the Pola, Croatia-based Mittelmeer II Flotilla. Notably, U-Flottille Pola had at the time been disbanded as Austro-Hungary was rapidly leaving the war (and dissolving as a country) with the eight remaining KM U-boats still there on 28 October (U-47, U-65, UB-48, UB-116, UC-25, UC-53, and UC-54) scuttled by their crews.

UB 50 had already been a terribly busy and successful boat during the war,  credited with sinking 39 Allied ships and damaging another 7 in just 14 months.

With both UB 50 and Britannia heading home from their respective wars, they chanced upon each other in the Strait of Gibraltar on the morning of 9 November 1918. Kukat managed to get close enough to fire two torpedoes into the Englishman while she was steaming 11 miles NNW of Cape Spartel just to the West of Gibraltar. Stopping dead in the water, a cordite explosion in one of Britannia’s 9.2-inch magazines went up and she was doomed.

HMS Britannia sinking NARA 45511435

Still, under the cool leadership of her skipper, Capt. Francis Wade Caulfeild– formerly the commander of the battleship HMS Venerable and cruisers Fox, Juno, and Royal Arthur— most of her crew (712 of 762) made it off as she sank slowly for nearly three hours. It was just two days before the signing of the Armistice and, other than the Racecourse-class minesweeper HMS Ascot that was sent to the bottom by UB 67 on 11 November, she was the last Royal Navy ship lost to combat in WWI.

Britannia was the eighth largest allied ship sunk by German U-boats during the war, coming in just behind the French battleship Danton (18,300 tons) and the 18,000-ton liners President Lincoln and Laconia.

Epilogue

At least 23 of the men whose bodies were recovered are interred at the Garrison Cemetery in Gibraltar while the others have No Other Grave than the Sea.

HMS Britannia and her lost crewmembers have been memorialized in no less than 42 locations around the UK, led by the Plymouth Naval Memorial that commemorates more than 7,200 Royal Navy personnel and 75 sailors of the Royal Australian Navy who died during the Great War.

Plymouth Naval Memorial

With her remains on the bottom of the Atlantic, the only relics of her in circulation are period postcards. 

Meanwhile, Combrig has a detailed scale model of her. 

Britannia, Combrig

Her last skipper, Caufield, was given command of the Bellerophon class dreadnought HMS Temeraire on 13 February 1919 then shifted to the Retired List in 1920 with the rank of Rear Admiral, capping a 28-year career. It was while on the list that he was increased to Vice Admiral in 1925. He was made a Commander of the Order of the British Empire by order of King George V in the 1936 New Year Honours.

Vice-Admiral Francis Wade Caulfeild, C.B.E passed in 1947, at age 75.

As for UB 50, she made it home to a collapsing Germany and, on 16 January 1919, was surrendered to the Allies. Awarded to Britain as a trophy ship, she was broken up in Swansea in 1922.

UB 50’s final skipper, Oblt. Kukat, who held both the EK1 and EK2 and was a Komtur of the Königlicher Hausorden von Hohenzollern, threw in with the Freikorps crowd in the violent post-war era before the Weimar Republic and, as a company commander with Marine-Brigade von Loewenfeld, was killed in a clash in Bottrop during the Ruhr uprising in 1920, dead at 29. He was the only former U-boat captain killed in Freikorps service and those who served with him during the Great War including famed evangelist Martin Niemöller and some guy named Karl Dönitz spoke highly of him.

Oblt. Heinrich Kukat is listed on the memorial marker of the Loewenfeld Freikorps in Kirchhellen. Other members of the controversial interwar partisan unit included U-boat “ace of aces” Lothar von Arnauld de la Perière and future Abwehr boss, Wilhelm Canaris.

While the name Britannia did not grace another RN warship after 1918, the Royal Naval College at Dartmouth carried the name HMS Britannia as a Naval Shore Establishment after 1906, one that was retained until 1953 when the college simply became HMS Dartmouth and the name Britannia was issued to the newly launched royal yacht HMY Britannia, which in turn remained in service until 1997.

The Royal Yacht Britannia at the 1977 Spithead Fleet Review on the occasion of the Silver Jubilee of the reign of Queen Elisabeth II. In her 43-year career, she sailed over a million miles and visited 600 ports. She is preserved as part of The Royal Yacht Britannia Trust as a pier-side museum in Edinburgh.

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.

If you liked this column, please consider joining the International Naval Research Organization (INRO), Publishers of Warship International

They are possibly one of the best sources of naval study, images, and fellowship you can find. http://www.warship.org/membership.htm

The International Naval Research Organization is a non-profit corporation dedicated to the encouragement of the study of naval vessels and their histories, principally in the era of iron and steel warships (about 1860 to date). Its purpose is to provide information and a means of contact for those interested in warships.

With more than 50 years of scholarship, Warship International, the written tome of the INRO, has published hundreds of articles, most of which are unique in their sweep and subject.

PRINT still has its place. If you LOVE warships, you should belong.

I am a member, so should you be!

Warship Wednesday, Oct. 25, 2023: The Busy Bee

Posted on by 2 comments

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

Warship Wednesday, Oct. 25, 2023: The Busy Bee

Official U.S. Navy Photograph, now in the collections of the National Archives. Catalog #: 80-G-K-2849

Above we see a beautiful period original Kodachrome of the 6-inch/47 caliber Mark 16 guns blooming on the new Cleveland-class light cruiser USS Biloxi (CL-80) as she was underway on her shakedown cruise in October 1943, some 80 years ago this month.

In less than two years in service, she would steam 202,126 miles and earn nine battle stars in the Pacific, shooting down eight Japanese aircraft, contributing to the sinking of three enemy ships including two destroyers, and delivering naval gunfire on the regular– while proving “double lucky” when the Empire struck back and only suffering a single bluejacket wounded in enemy action during her career.

The Clevelands

When the U.S. Navy took off the shackles of the London Naval Treaty and moved to make a series of new light cruisers, they based the design on the last “treaty” limited 10,000-ton Brooklyn-class light cruiser, USS Helena (CL-50), which was commissioned in 1939 (and was torpedoed and sunk in the Battle of Kula Gulf in 1943).

The resulting Cleveland class was stood up fast, with the first ship laid down in July 1940. Soon, four East Coast shipyards were filling their ways with their hulls.

The Cleveland class, via ONI 54R, 1943

The changes to the design were mostly in the armament, with the new light cruisers carrying a dozen 6″/47 Mark 16 guns in four triple turrets– rather than the 15 guns arranged in five turrets in Helena as the latter’s No. 3 gun turret was deleted.

The modification allowed for a stronger secondary armament (6 dual 5″/38 mounts and as many as 28 40mm Bofors and 20 20mm Oerlikon guns) as well as some strengthening in the hull. Notably, the latter may have worked as one of the class, USS Houston (CL-81) survived two torpedo hits and remained afloat with 7,000 tons of seawater sloshing around inside her frames, and another sister, USS Miami (CL-89), lost her bow to Typhoon Cobra but lived to tell the tale.

Much overloaded at more than 14,000 tons when fully loaded, these ships were cramped and top-heavy, which led to many further mods such as deleting catapults, aircraft, and rangefinders as the conflict went on to keep them from rolling dangerously.

Although 52 hulls were planned, only 27 made it to the fleet as cruisers while nine were completed while on the craving dock to Independence-class light carriers. A further baker’s dozen (of which only two were completed, and those too late for WWII service) were reordered as Fargo-class cruisers, which was basically a Cleveland with a single funnel and a redesigned, more compact, superstructure.

Remarkably, although the Clevelands saw much hard service in WWII, none were lost in action. No other cruiser design in history has seen so many units sail off to war and all return home.

The Cleveland class in the 1946 edition of Jane’s.

Meet USS Biloxi

Our subject is, for some unknown reason, the only warship to have ever carried the name of the hard-partying pearl of the Mississippi Gulf Coast, a city that traces its origin to D’Iberville’s landing in 1699 and past that to the Indian tribe that lived in its coastal marshes.

Laid down on 9 July 1941 at Newport News, USS Biloxi was launched on 23 February 1943, christened by the mayor’s wife, Katherine G “Kate” Jones Braun, and commissioned on 31 August 1943. The 25-month gestation period was a record for the class at the time and her construction bill ran $19,272,500.

Launching of the future USS Biloxi (CL 80) at the Newport News Shipbuilding and Dry Dock Company, via Navsource. She was one of eight Clevelands built at Newport News including Birmingham, Mobile, Houston, Vicksburg, Duluth, Amsterdam, and Portsmouth.

USS Biloxi (CL-80) underway at sea, circa late 1943. Note she doesn’t have her floatplane complement aboard. NH 45698

USS Biloxi (CL-80) early in her career, likely in September 1943 while in the Chesapeake. Her armament can be well-judged by this photo and the one above. NH 98263

By October, the brand-new cruiser was shaking the bulkheads in her initial training cruise in Chesapeake Bay then made for Trinidad to spend the first three weeks of October in battle drills. It was during this period that an amazing series of images were captured.

USS Biloxi (CL-80) on shakedown in October 1943 as her crew airs their bedding over the rails. Photo from the Allison collection, MacArthur Museum of Arkansas Military History.

USS Biloxi (CL-80) underway during her shakedown cruise, in October 1943. She is painted in Measure 21 (overall Navy Blue) camouflage. 80-G-K-2826-A

USS Biloxi (CL-80) steams in a turn, during her shakedown cruise, October 1943. 80-G-K-2826-B

USS Biloxi (CL-80). Ship’s 1,200~ crew and 80 officers in full summer/tropical whites, during her shakedown period, October 1943. They are posed on her forecastle and forward superstructure. 80-G-K-2834

USS Biloxi (CL-80) Firing her 6″/47 cal main battery guns while steaming in a turn, during her shakedown cruise, in October 1943. 80-G-K-2850

USS Biloxi (CL-80) 40mm quad-mounted guns were fired during battle practice while the ship was shaking down in October 1943. The view looks forward along the ship’s port side, with a 5/38 twin gun mount beyond the 40mm guns. 80-G-K-2844

USS Biloxi (CL-80) 40mm quad-mounted antiaircraft machine guns in action, during a shakedown cruise battle practice, October 1943. 80-G-K-14526

USS Biloxi (CL-80) one of the cruiser’s 40mm quad guns in action during her shakedown cruise, circa early 1943. Note shell cases being ejected to the deck before the gun mounting, and loaders feeding fresh shells. 80-G-K-14525

USS Biloxi (CL-80) view of signal flag “Bags” from atop the forward superstructure with the starboard forward quad 40mm gun mount beyond. Taken during the ship’s shakedown cruise, in October 1943. Note signal lamp and RDF loop. 80-G-K-2830

USS Biloxi (CL-80) personnel inspection on the ship’s afterdeck, during her shakedown period, circa October 1943. Note her aircraft catapults, with Curtiss SO3C-1 Seamew floatplanes on top, and her hangar hatch cover. Between the twin cats and their below-deck hangar, the Clevelands could carry as many as five aircraft as designed although typically carried half that complement. 80-G-K-2832

USS Biloxi (CL-80) prepares to catapult a Curtiss SO3C-1 Seamew from her starboard catapult, during her shakedown, circa October 1943. Note that the port catapult and plane have been turned to clear the launching area, before training the starboard catapult. 80-G-K-2838

USS Biloxi (CL-80) turns into the wind, as she prepares to catapult a Curtiss SO3C-1 Seamew while on shakedown, circa October 1943. Only 171 SO3C-1s were built and, with an eight-hour endurance, were mainly for gunfire correction and recon, although they could carry up to 325 pounds of small bombs or depth charges under the wings. 80-G-K-2837

USS Biloxi (CL-80) catapults a Curtiss SO3C-1 Seamew floatplane, during her shakedown period, circa October 1943. Note the plane’s national insignia, with the red surround briefly used in mid-1943. 80-G-K-2836

USS Biloxi (CL-80) catapults a SO3C-1 Seamew while on shakedown, circa October 1943. The cruiser lost one of her four SO3Cs during these ops while in a landing attempt off the port beam. Both the pilot and passenger, Ensign H. Jolly and ACMM J. Phagan, were rescued and the wreck was destroyed by gunfire as a hazard to navigation. 80-G-K-2835

Check out a typical naval gunfire support floatplane operation when calling shot: 

Floatplane calling fire USS Biloxi Wotje Jan 30, 1944, from Biloxi’s war diary

War!

Biloxi sailed south for San Francisco via the Canal Zone on 20 November, where she swapped out her quartet of SO3C Seamews or a pair of Vought OS2U Kingfishers, then, after more exercises, put to sea for the Marshall Islands after the New Year to take part in Operation Flintlock, the invasion of Kwajalein.

USS Biloxi in the Pacific, 1944. US Navy Photo 117-20

Working the Marshall Islands in late January-early February 1944 as part of Task Group 53.5, alongside sisters USS Sante Fe and USS Mobile and accompanying destroyers, Biloxi bombarded Wotje and covered the landings on Roi. This saw Biloxi fire a whopping 4,354 6″/47 and 5″/38 shells while her two floatplanes dropped 10 100-pound bombs on targets of opportunity.

Check out these tracks while delivering fire over two days. 

She also tasted Japanese steel off Wotje, receiving fire from shore-based 4.7-inch coastal guns from about 10,000 yards with several salvos coming “uncomfortably close” and one near miss hitting the water just 50 yards from the ship, breaking up and ricocheting into the forward superstructure.

Injured was Biloxi’s only wartime casualty from enemy fire, Fireman 1c Walter Henry Grunst, 8748444, USNR, of Toledo, Ohio, wounded slightly by shrapnel in “the right buttock” with the disposition noted in Biloxi’s report that he was to be “retained aboard” for recovery rather than transferred out to a hospital ship or ashore.

Poor guy.

Off Saipan in two days (Feb 19-22) while screening carriers, Biloxi endured four large Japanese air raids, downing at least one aircraft with her 5-inch battery.

Covering the carrier USS Bunker Hill during the invasion of Saipan, Biloxi’s gunners accounted for two D4Y Yokosuka Judy dive bombers on 19 June 1944 during the Great Marianas Turkey Shoot, splashed by 56 rounds of 5″/38 AA, 1,360 40mm shells, and 1,197 20mm shells. She claimed another kill the next day.

On Independence Day 1944, Biloxi, sailing with sister Sante Fe and destroyers, lit up Iwo Jima with 531 6″/47 and 389 5″/38 shells.

During an anti-shipping sweep against a reported enemy convoy and bombardment raid of Chichi Jima with Task Unit 58.1.6 (sisters Santa Fe, Mobile, and Oakland, destroyers Izard, Burns, Brown, and Charrette) on 4 August 1944, Biloxi engaged what it thought at the time was a Japanese destroyer and cargo vessel.

The ships wound up being the collier Ryoku Maru (5626 tons) and the Japanese escort destroyer Matsu (1,262 tons) of Japanese Convoy 4804. The dawn brought an ineffective Japanese air attack from two high-level Betty bombers, as well as the bombardment of the island by Biloxi and company the next day.

Another raid of Chichi Jima & Iwo Jima at the end of the month going into September was productive, with Biloxi firing another 875 rounds of 6″/47 and 363 of 5″/38 on an array of ashore installations and sheltered vessels.

Further raids on the Ryukyu Island and on Formosa set the stage for preparation for the Leyte landings, the liberation of the Philippines, and one of the largest naval clashes in history.

As part of this, on the night of 26 October, Biloxi, sailing as part of CruDiv 14 in line with sisters USS Vincennes and Miami and DesDiv 103’s Miller, Owen, and Lewis Hancock, engaged what was believed to be a Japanese cruiser. In 10 minutes– with breaks for maneuvering and checking fire–Biloxi alone “smothered the target” with 170 6″/47 steel cap HCs as viewed through the Mark 8 radar screen, all done at a range between 18,050 yards for the first salvo and 16,375 yards for the last.

The contact turned out to be the Japanese destroyer Nowaki, crowded with survivors from the lost Tone-class heavy cruiser Chikuma (which in turn had sunk the escort carrier Gambier Bay earlier in the week). Nowaki was sent to the bottom with all hands during this surface action, 65 miles south-southeast of Legaspi.

The lesson learned was dramatic.

On 29 October, Biloxi, screening the carrier USS Intrepid off Morotai, was credited with two shared kills against a swarm of Judys and Zekes.

Moving to support the landings in the Eastern Philippines in November, screening along with sisters USS Mobile and Sante Fe, and battleships USS Washington and North Carolina, of the fast carriers USS Essex, USS Ticonderoga, and light carrier Langley, Biloxi had to fill the air on several occasions with 5″/38, 40mm and 20mm ack-ack, credited with downing a Japanese dive bomber just off of Essex on 25 November.

Task Group 38.3 Enters Ulithi Anchorage After Strikes in Philippines Islands, 12 December 1944. USS Langley (CVL-27), USS Ticonderoga (CV-14), USS Washington (BB 56), USS North Carolina (BB-55), USS South Dakota (BB-57), USS Santa Fe (CL-60), USS Biloxi (CL-80), USS Mobile (CL-63), and USS Oakland (Cl-95). 80-G-301352

Same as above, showing USS Washington (BB 56), USS North Carolina (BB-55), USS South Dakota (BB-57), USS Santa Fe (CL-60), and USS Biloxi (CL-80), 80-G-301351

January 1945 had Biloxi tag along to screen Slim McCain’s fast carrier strikes on Japanese-occupied French Indochina and Hong Kong, losing one of her bluejackets, S1c Daniel A. Little, to a rogue wave– the first loss of life suffered by Biloxi’s crew.

February brought the Operation Detachment landings at Iwo Jima, which included suppressing fire on D-day, calling fire on D+1 and D+2, and harassing night fires. In this, she let fly almost 2,400 5-inch and 6-inch shells in three days.

It was during this period on 21 February that the ship was hit by its own shells, with No. 5 5″/38 mounts being hit and the gun captain of the No. 5 40mm mount, BM2c Leroy Vannatter, knocked out by concussion and dazed, S1c Ralph Henry suffering a compound fracture, and S1c Cecil Ott left with shrapnel wounds. All were retained aboard but the No. 5 5″/38 mount was knocked out.

The heavy cruiser USS Pensacola (CA-24) was photographed against Suribachi on the morning of 21 February 1945. On the right is the USS Biloxi (CL-80). Note the planes in formation overhead. Barely visible. Of note, while P-Cola was ostensibly a heavy cruiser and carried 8-inch guns rather than 6-inchers, Biloxi outweighed her by over 3,000 tons by this stage of the war.

Then came Operation Iceberg, the landings on Okinawa.

On 27 March off Okinawa, Biloxi participated in repulsing a kamikaze attack in which she expended 100 rounds of 5″/38, 897 of 40mm, and 2,653 of 20mm against an incoming wave of six Vals and Irvings. It was a swirling mess that lasted 15 minutes but left four of the five planes splashed. However, one of these planes wound up leaving Biloxi with one heck of a souvenir.

It was a wild event: 

Official caption: On the morning of March 27, 1945, during Okinawa preparations four suicide planes attacked the light cruiser, USS Biloxi. Three were shot down in flames but the fourth broke through the umbrella of ack-ack to smash itself against the cruiser’s side. Later investigation revealed a 1,100 bomb that failed to explode. Rendered harmless, the bomb became the prized possession of the quarterdeck where it is shown being examined by Major Anthony V. Ragusin (right) of Biloxi, Miss., and Ensign Jack Fisher, USNR, of Natchitoches, La., both of whom are attached to the staff of the Commander in Chief Pacific Ocean Areas.

She shrugged off her wounds and continued fighting off almost daily kamikaze runs, typically by single aircraft, and downed at least one more, a radar-assisted kill on a night bomber on 16 April utilizing the Mk. 37 and Mk. 1 computer for solutions. In all, during her nearly month-long duty off Okinawa, she fired over 6,000 rounds at incoming aircraft.

USS Biloxi (CL-80) shelling Japanese positions on Okinawa, 30 March 1945. USS Portland (CA-33) is in the left background, also taking part in the bombardment. Photographed from USS West Virginia (BB-48). 80-G-315085

Cruisers maneuver into the battle line to bombard Okinawa. Seen from the battleship USS West Virginia (BB-48). The nearest CL should be USS Biloxi beyond her maybe USS Pensacola. These two cruisers were in the same group as BB-48. 80-G-K-3831 (Color)

In 26 days on the line off Okinawa from 26 March to 20 April, Biloxi fired over 9,700 rounds of 5 and 6-inch shells in shore bombardment (as well as 1,048 40mm shells when she got within 3,000 yards of the beach to support UDT operations). Her NGFS included night harassment fire missions, covering landings, call fire for support from ground troops ashore, and interdiction, and that above total doesn’t even count 837 5-inch star shell illumination rounds.

A rundown of her directed bombardments in Okinawa:

Her only casualty off Okinawa was one of her OS2U floatplanes, lost on 28 March during recovery, with the pilot rescued by a nearby destroyer (USS Foreman) on plane guard and returned via Highline.

In all, she logged 18,082 shells of all calibers fired in her month off Okinawa.

More than three weeks after she caught her kamikaze bomb, Biloxi shoved off for the West Coast, capping a 16-month extended first cruise, arriving at San Francisco via Pearl Harbor on 11 May for refit and repair.

On 8 August 1945, while headed back from the West Coast to Ulithi to rejoin the fleet, she hit occupied Wake Island along with the cruiser Pensacola, soaking the atoll with 282 6″/47 HC rounds and 249 of 5″/38 AAC. In this, she received counterbattery fire from Japanese 4.7-inch and 8-inch guns dug in ashore with some shells coming as close as 700 yards and her spotting plane was riddled with AAA but the Busy Bee, true to form, had no casualties.

Her targets were varied: 

Biloxi was at anchor in Buckner Bay, Okinawa on VJ-Day, clustered among seven sisters of CruDiv 12 and 13. She got underway on 5 September as part of RADM Fahrion’s POW Evacuation Group (TG 55.7) and proceeded to atom-bomb devastated Nagasaki soon after, using her Marine detachment as ashore security.

She took on 217 RAMPs (Recovered Allied Military Personnel) from the U.S. (11), Britain (17), Australia (1), Canada (1), and Holland (187) on the 18th and took them to Okinawa for further repatriation home from there.

Wrapping up occupation duty, Biloxi sailed from Nagoya on 8 November with 10 extra officers and 289 enlisted passengers for Okinawa where she took on another 15 officers and 74 enlisted passengers on the 11th then let out for San Francisco via Pearl Harbor, arriving in California just after Thanksgiving 1945 with her ~400 odd passengers and 1,285 man crew.

Not able to enjoy Christmas at home, Biloxi was sent back to Okinawa on 2 December on a magic carpet run at “capacity personnel,” returning to San Francisco on the 29th.

Just after the New Year, she shifted to Puget Sound Naval Shipyard where, upon decommissioning on 29 October 1946, she joined the Great Grey Reserve Fleet and never lit her boilers nor fired her guns again.

She earned nine battle stars for her wartime service:

And has a memorial marker at the National Museum of the Pacific War (Nimitz Museum)

Epilogue

The Clevelands, always overloaded and top-heavy despite their hard service and dependability, were poor choices for post-war service and most were laid up directly after VJ Day with only one, USS Manchester (CL-83), still in service as an all-gun cruiser past 1950, lingering until 1956 and seeing much Korean War duty, successfully completing three combat tours with no major battle damage.

Six went on to see further service as Galveston and Providence-class missile slingers after an extensive topside rebuild and remained in service through the 1970s. One of these, USS Little Rock (CL-92/CLG-4/CG-4) has been preserved at the Buffalo Naval & Military Park, the only Cleveland currently above water.

As for our Biloxi, she was stricken in 1960 and sold in 1962 to Zidell Explorations, Portland, for dismantling.

Biloxi is seen being tugged to the breakers’ yard near Portland, Oregon, in 1962. (Dave Schroeder and John Chiquoine via Navsource)

Her war diaries, deck logs, and war history are digitized online in the National Archives.

Linberg paid homage to the Busy Bee with a scale model that kiddies of the day could get in conjunction with Alfa Bits cereal.

The Library of Congress has several oral histories collected from her wartime crew similarly available.

Meanwhile, the University of Southern Mississippi maintains the USS Biloxi Collection of articles, photos, and papers. The USS Biloxi Association, whose members have almost all passed the bar, established a scholarship at USM to a graduating senior from Biloxi High School that endures.

The town of Biloxi and the Mississippi Gulf Coast in general wholeheartedly adopted “their ship” and the area was awash with USS Biloxi artwork in calendars, postcards, and posters for decades even after the ship was mothballed.

She graced the cover of the First Bank of Biloxi’s calendar for years. Note this is a stylized version of US Navy Photo 117-20, above.

Lots of elements from Biloxi were salvaged for preservation including her bell, boiler and builder’s plates, and a 45-foot section of her main mast. These were shipped back home to Biloxi for installation by the City. Whereas the bell and small items have floated around various city buildings ever since, the mast was installed at what is now Biloxi’s Guice Park, located beachside on U.S. 90 at the Biloxi Small Craft Harbor, arranged by a battery of old French colonial cannon that had long ago been pulled from the bayou.

The Seabees of NMCB 121, located in nearby Gulfport, installed the mast in 1967 just before it deployed to Phu Bai, South Vietnam, and it has since been joined by a Purple Heart and Gold Star monument.

Via NMCB 121’s 1967-68 cruise book.

The mast has since survived direct hits from Hurricanes Camille (1969), Frederic (1979), Elena (1985), Georges (1998), Katrina/Rita (2005), Nate (2017), and Zeta (2020), showing that the ‘Bees of NCB-121 knew what they were doing. Of course, the mast gets love not only from the City but also from the Navy, with the Naval Oceanography Operations Command in nearby Bay St. Louis adopting the monument as a community service project.

(Photo: Chris Eger)

And these days, with the giant Hard Rock Casino now parked next door, is home to a large osprey nest that has been built on the mast’s long-empty radar platform. (Photo: Chris Eger)

The bell, plates, muzzle caps, telegraphs, binnacle, and other relics are well preserved and on public display in the recently rebuilt (post-Katrina) Maritime & Seafood Industry Museum which has had custody of the items since the 1980s.

(Photo: Chris Eger)

(Photo: Chris Eger)

(Photo: Chris Eger)

Along with a four-foot scale model of the USS Biloxi in her 1944 appearance. (Photo: Chris Eger)

If only the Navy would bestow the name to another USS Biloxi, we’d be set.

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

If you liked this column, please consider joining the International Naval Research Organization (INRO), Publishers of Warship International.

They are possibly one of the best sources of naval study, images, and fellowship you can find. http://www.warship.org/membership.htm

The International Naval Research Organization is a non-profit corporation dedicated to the encouragement of the study of naval vessels and their histories, principally in the era of iron and steel warships (about 1860 to date). Its purpose is to provide information and a means of contact for those interested in warships.

With more than 50 years of scholarship, Warship International, the written tome of the INRO has published hundreds of articles, most of which are unique in their sweep and subject.

PRINT still has its place. If you LOVE warships, you should belong.

I am a member, so should you be!

Echoes from 1940

Posted on by Leave a comment

The MAREANO project, conducted by the Institute of Marine Research (IMR), the Geological Survey of Norway (NGU), and the Norwegian Mapping Authority, has been mapping the seascape of the Norwegian continental shelf since 2005.

Their most recent Spring expedition on board research vessel G.O. Sars found an aircraft engine and no less than seven wrecks. One appears to be the long-lost T-class submarine HMS Thistle (N 24), located at 160 meters depth outside Rogaland in southwestern Norway.

Built by Vickers pre-war, she was commissioned in July 1939, just less than eight weeks before Hitler sent his legions into Poland and sparked WWII. She conducted six war patrols off the German/Jutland coast and vanished during her seventh with skipper LCDR W.F. Haselfoot, RN, and all 52 hands while off the coast of Norway.

Post-war analysis shows her to be lost on 10 April 1940 during the initial phases of the German invasion of that country, sent to the bottom by two torpedos from the school boat U-4 (Oblt. Hans-Peter Hinsch).

HMS Keith

HMS Keith

In related news, the B-class destroyer flotilla leader HMS Keith (D 06), lost during the Dynamo evacuations from Dunkirk on 1 June 1940, sunk by German Stuka dive bombers in just 23 meters of water, has been located and mapped via multibeam sonar from the French DRASSM agency.

And so we remember. 
 
There are no roses on sailors’ graves,
Nor wreaths upon the storm-tossed waves,
No last post from the King’s band,
So far away from their native land,
No heartbroken words carved on stone,
Just shipmates’ bodies there alone,
The only tributes are the seagulls sweep,
And the teardrop when a loved one weeps.

Mosquitos!

Posted on by One comment

80 years ago today: PT boat No. 285 underway, 19 October 1943. Note the extensive camouflage paint scheme on the 78-foot Higgins Motor Torpedo Boat, her SO type radar set, four lightweight Mark 13 aircraft torpedos in roll-off mounts, two twin M2 .50 cal Brownings pointed skyward, another pair of 20mm Oerlikon singles fore and aft, and a 7×3-foot balsa float on deck filled with supplies.

U.S. Navy Photo in the National Archives 80-G-85754

Carrying the unofficial names of “Scuttlebutt John” and “Fighting Irish,” PT-285 was laid down 8 February 1943 by Higgins Industries in New Orleans, completed 16 July 1943, and assigned to Motor Torpedo Boat Squadron TWENTY THREE (MTBRon 23), going on to see action at Bougainville and Green Island as well as in New Guinea, ending her career in the Philippines, stripped and torched off Samar as excess equipment in November 1946.

PT boat No. 337, an 80-foot Elco Motor Torpedo Boat, was photographed the same day in likely the same location, and she gives a great profile view of such a craft. She carries the same torpedo punch as PT-285 above, but one fewer 20mm mount and a wooden dingy instead of the balsa float.

80-G-85757

PT-337 was laid down at Elco in Bayonne, New Jersey on 17 February 1943 and completed on 14 May then was assigned to MTBRon 24 for service in New Guinea. Serving under the unofficial names of “Heaven Can Wait” and “PT Intrepid” she was lost to Japanese shore batteries on 7 March 1944 in Hansa Bay, New Guinea.

Bulkely covers the tragic tale in his At Close Quarters book on PT boat operations in WWII:

On the night of March 1/2, Lt. R. H. Miller, USNR, in PT 335 (Lt. Bernard C. Denvir, USNR), with PT 343 (Ens. Fred L. Jacobson, USNR), destroyed two enemy luggers and set fire to a storehouse, a fuel dump, and an ammunition dump at Bogia Harbor, 125 miles northwest of Saidor. On the following night, Lieutenant Commander Davis, in PT 338 (Lt. (jg.) Carl T. Gleason), with PT 337 (Ens. Henry W. Cutter, USNR), went 10 miles farther up the coast to Hansa Bay, a known enemy strongpoint.

The boats idled into the bay at 0200, the 338 leading. They picked up a radar target a mile and a quarter ahead, close to shore. Closing to 400 yards, they saw two heavily camouflaged luggers moored together. Heavy machine-gun fire opened from the beach. As the PT’s turned and started to strafe the beach, more machine-guns started firing along the shore, and a heavy-caliber battery opened from Awar Point, at the northwestern entrance of the bay.

The first shell hit so close to the port bow of the 337 that some of the crew were splashed with water and heard fragments whizzing overhead. Three or four more shells dropped near the 337; then one hit the tank compartment just below the port turret, going through the engineroom. All engines were knocked out and the tanks burst into flame. Ensign Cutter pulled the carbon dioxide release, but the blaze already was too furious to be checked.

Francis C. Watson, MoMM3c, USNR, who had been thrown from the port turret, got to his feet and saw William Daley, Jr., MoMM1c, USNR, staggering out of the flaming engineroom, badly wounded in the neck and jaw. Watson guided Daley forward, slipped to the deck and shouted to Morgan J.

–224–

Canterbury, TM2c, USNR, to help the wounded man. In the meantime Cutter gave the order to abandon ship and the men put the liferaft over the starboard, or offshore, side, and began taking to the water. Daley was dazed but obedient. He got in the water by himself, and Ensign Cutter and Ens. Robert W. Hyde, USNR, towed him to the raft.

The crew paddled and swam, trying to guide the raft away from the exploding boat and out to sea. They must have been working against the current, because after 2 hours they were only 700 yards away from the boat, and were considerably shaken by a tremendous explosion. After the explosion the flames subsided somewhat, but the hulk was still burning at dawn.

Several times the survivors saw searchlights’ sweep the bay from shore and heard the shore guns firing. They did not know the guns were firing at the 338, outside the bay. When the heavy battery had first opened on the boats, Davis ordered a high-speed retirement and the 338 laid a smokescreen. When the 337 did not come through the screen, Davis tried repeatedly to reenter the bay, but every time the 338 approached the entrance, the shore battery bracketed the PT so closely that it had to retire. Finally, knowing that the 338 would be a sitting duck not only for shore guns but enemy planes in daylight, Davis set course back to Saidor.

Daley died before dawn and was committed to the sea. That left three officers and eight men in the raft. Besides Cutter, Hyde, Watson, and Canterbury, there were Ens. Bruce S. Bales, USNR; Allen B. Gregory, QM2c, USNR; Harry E. Barnett, RM2c, USNR; Henry S. Timmons, Y2c; Edgar L. Schmidt, TM3c, USNR; Evo A. Fucili, MoMM3c, USNR; and James P. Mitchell, SC3c.

To say that the men were in the raft perhaps gives an exaggerated impression of comfort. It was an oval of balsa, 7 feet by 3, with a slatted bottom open to the waves. With 11 men, it was awash. Usually they did not even try to stay in it at the same time. Some stayed in it and paddled, others tried to guide it by swimming.

At dawn on the 7th the raft still was less than a mile off the entrance of Hansa Bay. During the morning the current carried it toward Manam Island, 6 miles offshore. Cutter wanted to go ashore on Manam, thinking it would be easier to escape detection in the woods than on the surface so close to Hansa Bay. Besides, the men could find food, water, and shelter ashore, and might be able to steal a canoe or a sailboat. All afternoon they paddled and swam, but whenever they came close to shore another current pushed them out again.

–225–

That night Cutter and Bales tried to paddle ashore on logs. If they could get ashore they would try to find a boat and come back for the others. After 3 hours the unaccountable currents swept the two exhausted officers and the raft together again. While they were away, Hyde and Gregory set out to swim to the island. They were not seen again.

During the night the men saw gunfire toward Hansa Bay, as though PT’s and shore batteries were firing at each other, but they saw no PT’s. By dawn of the 8th the raft had drifted around to the north side of Manam, no more than a mile from the beach. Mitchell already had set out to swim to the island. Cutter, Schmidt, and Canterbury were delirious that night. During the storm Canterbury suddenly swam away. Barnett, a strong swimmer, tried to save him, but could not find him. Soon after dawn, Bales, Fucili, and Schmidt also set out for shore. The others were too weak to move. Most of the men thought that Bales, Fucili, and Schmidt reached the island, but Watson, who said he saw Bales walking on the beach, is the only one who claimed to have seen any of them ashore. Soon afterward Japanese were seen on the beach.

Mitchell returned to the raft in the middle of the morning. He was only 75 yards from shore when he saw several Japanese working on the beach, apparently building boats. Plans to go to Manam were abandoned.

Soon after dark that night a small boat put out from shore, circled the raft and stood off at about 200 yards. There were two men in it who, some of the men said, were armed with machine-guns. They made no attempt to molest the men in the raft, but kept close to them until about 0400, when a sudden squall blew up, with 6- to 8-foot waves. When calm came again the boat was nowhere to be seen.

On the morning of the 9th the remaining men, Cutter, Barnett, Timmons, Watson, and Mitchell, saw an overturned Japanese collapsible boat floating a few yards away. It was only 15 feet long, but it looked luxurious in comparison with the raft. They righted it, bailed it and boarded it. Mitchell saw a crab clinging to the boat, and in catching it let the raft slip away. No one thought it was worth retrieving.

The crab was not the only food during the day. Later the men picked up a drifting cocoanut. The food helped some, but the men were tortured by thirst. They had lost their waterbreaker in the storm, and the cocoanut was dry. They were suffering, too, from exposure. Scorched by day and chilled at night, they were covered with salt water sores.

–226–

The night of the 9th and the morning of the 10th were monotonous agony. At noon, three Army B-25’s flew over, wheeled about and circled the boat. Cutter waved his arms, trying to identify himself by semaphore. One of the bombers came in low and dropped a box. It collapsed and sank on hitting the water. Then came two more boxes and a small package attached to a life preserver, all within 10 feet of the boat. The boxes contained food, water, cigarettes, and medicines. In the package was a chart showing their position and a message saying that a Catalina would come to pick them up.

The next morning a Catalina, covered by two P-47’s, circled the boat. The Catalina picked up the five men. Within 2½ hours they were back in Dreger Harbor.

A liferaft is a hard thing to spot. During the 5 days since the loss of the 337, planes by day and PT’s by night had searched for the survivors. Of those who tried to go ashore at Manam, little is known. A captured document indicates that 1 officer and 2 enlisted men were taken prisoner by the Japanese, but none of the crew of the 337 was reported as a prisoner of war.

What a Difference a Year Makes

Posted on by Leave a comment

Laid down at Newport News on the 1st anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor, 7 December 1942, CV-13 officially earned her name some 80 years ago today on 14 October 1943.

The future USS Franklin (CV-13) at launch was sponsored by the indomitable LCDR Mildred A. McAfee, USNR (Vassar 1920), then-director of the Women Accepted for Volunteer Emergency Service, better known as the WAVES, and she smashed the bottle in full uniform, as shown in the below photo of the event.

Lieutenant Commander Mildred H. McAfee, USNR, Director of the Women’s Reserve, christens USS Franklin (CV 13) at its launching at the Newport News Shipbuilding and Drydock Company. Released October 14, 1943. U.S. Navy photograph, now in the collections of the National Archives. 80-G-43444

And how about this great period Kodachrome of “Big Ben” floating out, with McAfee and eight of her fellow WAVES in the foreground.

PCU USS Franklin (CV-13). The ship floated out of her building dock immediately after christening, at the Newport News Shipbuilding and Drydock Company shipyard, Newport News, Virginia, on 14 October 1943. 80-G-K-14015

The third USS Franklin was rushed to completion and commissioned just over three months later on 31 January 1944. Following a shakedown cruise, she crossed through the Panama Canal and reported for duty with TG 58.2 on 16 June 1944.

Quickly involved in the war, she supported the invasion of Saipan and of Peleliu, her planes raided Formosa and Okinawa, and by October she was taking part in the liberation of the Philippines which included the pivotal Battle of Leyte Gulf. In those not quite five months, her air group, CVG-12, logged 338 enemy planes damaged and/or destroyed, 409,500 tons of enemy shipping sunk and/or damaged, and 3,971 combat sorties flown.

It was on 30 October, just over a year past her launching, that Franklin encountered the Divine Wind off Samar Island.

As detailed by DANFS:

At 1405, VF-13 launched 12 Hellcats in response to an urgent request from a nearby fleet tanker that reported she was under attack by Japanese planes. Franklin’s crew went to general quarters and “no sooner had the fighters left the deck than Franklin was subjected to a bombing attack.” At the exact moment of the attack, the destroyer Bagley (DD-386) had been alongside Franklin taking on fuel, but quickly cast off. Six enemy planes identified as a mixture of Zekes and Yokosuka D4Y Suisei carrier bombers (Judys), came in at high speed “targeting the formation at about 3,000 feet.”

One of the planes, a Judy, “dove over Franklin,” just missing her starboard side, amidships. A Zeke, observed to still be carrying bombs then intentionally crashed into the carrier’s flight deck inboard of the No. 5 and No. 7, 5-inch mounts. A terrific explosion followed which caused a ferocious fire to sweep the nearby planes on the flight and hanger deck. A third low-flying plane attempted to bomb Franklin, but narrowly missed the carrier’s starboard side. The Japanese pilot then crashed his plane into the after portion of the Belleau Wood (CVL-24).

Two other Japanese planes crashed into the water as a result of errant suicide dives and a third one was shot down by Franklin’s gunners just as it was attempting to crash into Enterprise. Approximately 20 minutes after the attack on Franklin began additional fires broke out on the hanger deck and swept the second and third decks between frames 110 and 150. “All hands turned to,” and at about 1530 the flight deck fire was finally extinguished with the hanger deck fire lingering on until 1625. By 1800, all fires on board the carrier had been arrested with the exception of some that were still smoldering below decks. In total, casualties included 56 killed and 60 wounded.

USS Franklin (CV-13), at right, and USS Belleau Wood (CVL-24) Afire after being hit by Japanese Kamikaze suicide planes, while operating off the Philippines on 30 October 1944. Photographed from USS Brush (DD-745. Note flak bursts over the ships. 80-G-326798

The damage was considerable and she made for Puget Sound Naval Yard via Ulithi and Pearl Harbor for repairs, knocking her out of the war for four months.

USS Franklin (CV 13), damage to flight deck following Japanese kamikaze attack on 30 October 1944. 80-G-270814

USS Franklin (CV 13), damage to V-2 spaces following Japanese kamikaze attack on 30 October 1944. 80-G-270811

Heading back West in March 1945 with Carrier Air Group 5 embarked, Franklin would suffer through her much more extensive and well-known brush with the kamikaze shortly after.

As for the good LCDR McAfee, she would leave the Navy in 1946 as a full captain, the WAVES growing to some 80,000 in number. She went on to return to the presidency of Wellesley College, sit on the board of a number of different corporations, and passed the bar in 1994, far outliving “Big Ben” which, laid up post-war, was quietly disposed of in 1966.

Warship Wednesday, Oct. 11, 2023: Sink Em All

Posted on by Leave a comment

Here at LSOZI, we take off every Wednesday for a 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

Warship Wednesday, Oct. 11, 2023: Sink Em All

Official U.S. Navy Photograph, now in the collections of the National Archives. Catalog #: 80-G-35726

Above we see the Gato-class fleet boat USS Wahoo (SS-238) at Pearl Harbor, soon after the end of her Third war patrol, circa 7 February 1943. Her skipper, LCDR Dudley W. Morton, who would count four Navy Crosses in the war, is on the open bridge, in right-center while the officer to the left could be XO, LT Richard H. O’Kane, who would go on to earn the MoH.

If you will observe, there is a broom lashed to the periscope head, indicating a “clean sweep” of enemy targets encountered as well as an aloft pennant bearing the slogan “Shoot the Sunza Bitches” and eight small flags, representing claimed sinkings of two Japanese warships and six merchant vessels. What is not in the picture is the forward radar mast, which has been brushed out by wartime censors.

Just six months after this image was snapped, Wahoo would be broken on the bottom of the La Pérouse Strait, lost exactly 80 years ago today.

The Gatos

The 77 Gatos were cranked out by four shipyards from 1940 to 1944 for the U.S. Navy, they were impressive 311-foot-long fleet boats, diesel-electric submarines capable of extended operations in the far reaches of the Pacific. Able to swim an impressive 11,000 nautical miles on their economical power plant while still having room for 24 (often cranky) torpedoes. A 3-inch deck gun served for surface action in poking holes in vessels deemed not worth a torpedo while a few .50 and .30-cal machine guns provided the illusion of an anti-aircraft armament.

Developed from the Tambor-class submarines, they were the first fleet boats able to plumb to 300 feet test depth, then the deepest that U.S. Navy submersibles were rated.

Meet Wahoo

Our subject is the first U.S. Navy warship– and probably the first in any fleet– named for the wahoo, a beautiful (and delicious) sport fish in the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean, known for putting up a fight.

Laid down a half-year prior to Pearl Harbor on 28 June 1941 by the Mare Island Navy Yard in Vallejo, California, Wahoo was launched on Valentine’s Day 1942– a sweetheart gift to the Japanese Navy.

She was commissioned on 15 May 1942, LCDR Marvin Granville Kennedy (USNA 1930) in command.

Kennedy, who had served in a mix of both surface warfare and submarine billets, was XO of the huge “V-boat” USS Narwhal (SS-167) at the beginning of the war, aboard her when her gunners opened up at incoming Japanese planes over Pearl Harbor. Wahoo was his first command, and he would be at her attack periscope for her first two patrols.

The new boat and green crew spent the next three months fitting out and conducting initial training along the California coast then, after a post-shakedown repair at Mare Island, left headed for Hawaii on 12 August.

Wahoo off Mare Island Navy Yard, California, 10 August 1942. Note the barrage balloons over the yard and the City of Vallejo. 19-N-33836

USS Wahoo (SS-238) At the Mare Island Navy Yard, California, 10 August 1942. Circles and associated text mark recent alterations to the submarine. The lighter YF-239 is alongside the submarines in the right background. Note the antenna for an SJ radar mounted on the light mast in front of Wahoo’s periscope shears. 19-N-33839

USS Wahoo (SS-238) View from astern, taken off the Mare Island Navy Yard, California, 10 August 1942. 19-N-33837

War!

First War Patrol (23 Aug 1942, Pearl Harbor-17 Oct 1942, Pearl Harbor)

Her patrolling career began in August 1942 in the Carolines. On this patrol, Wahoo claimed the sinking of a freighter not confirmed by post-war review. Other attacks were spoiled by faulty torpedoes, a common refrain in the U.S. Submarine Force in the Pacific at this time.

Second War Patrol (8 Nov 1942, Pearl Harbor- 26 Dec 1942, Brisbane)

Her second patrol was in the Solomons, where she sank a freighter, the Japanese collier Kamoi Maru (5355 GRT) off Buin, on 10 December. Following this patrol, Kennedy, who earned a Silver Star for sinking the enemy collier, left the boat and joined the staff of Commander Service Force, Southwest Pacific.

Replacing the 37-year-old Kennedy was an old classmate of his from Annapolis, Florida-born LCDR Dudley Walker Morton, better known by his Academy nickname of “Mushmouth” or, just the simpler “Mush.” Morton had previously commanded the smaller boats USS R-5 (SS-82) and USS Dolphin (SS-169), then sailed as XO under Kennedy on Wahoo’s Second War Patrol. The new XO would be LT Richard Hetherington “Dick” O’Kane (USNA 1934)

It seemed like, in Wahoo’s case, that the third time was the charm when it came to patrols.

Third War Patrol (16 Jan 1943, Brisbane-7 Feb 1943, Pearl Harbor)

Wahoo conducted her third patrol from Australia through New Guinea to the Palau area of the Japanese-annexed Caroline Islands. She steamed 6,454 miles and expanded all her torpedoes.

Prior to leaving Australia, Morton reportedly told the crew:

“Wahoo is expendable. We will take every reasonable precaution, but our mission is to sink enemy shipping. . . . Now, if anyone doesn’t want to go along under these conditions, just see the yeoman. I am giving him verbal authority now to transfer anyone who is not a volunteer. . . . Nothing will ever be said about you remaining in Brisbane.”

Periscope photograph, taken by USS Wahoo (SS-238) on 27 January 1943. The view shows a refinery and large warehouse adjacent to a phosphate works on Fais Island (near Ulithi Atoll, Caroline Islands). Wahoo had intended to shell the latter, but had to break off when an enemy ship came on the scene. Official U.S. Navy photograph now in the collections of the National Archives, 80-G-39745.

She sank the destroyer Harusame on 24 January off Wewak, New Guinea.

Harusame’s back is clearly broken. Wartime intelligence evaluated this photo as showing one of the Asashio-class (see Photographic Intelligence Report # 82, 17 March 1943). However, the ship’s bridge structure identifies her as a Shiratsuyu-class destroyer, with the # 2 (single) 5 gun mount removed. Official U.S. Navy photo 80-G-35738 from the U.S. Navy Naval History and Heritage Command

Two days later chased down a four-ship convoy included sinking the large Japanese army cargo ships Buyo Maru (5447 GRT) and Fukuei Maru No.2 (1901 GRT) along with damaging the tanker Pacific Maru (5872 GRT).

Periscope photograph, showing Japanese transport Buyo Maru sinking after she was torpedoed by USS Wahoo (SS-238) north of western New Guinea on 26 January 1943. Official U.S. Navy photograph now in the collections of the National Archives, 80-G-39746.

The scene in the control room during Wahoo’s 27 January 1943 action with a Japanese destroyer. When the photo was taken the submarine was at 300 feet, rigged for depth charges. Six charges had just gone off and the crew was awaiting more. Lieutenant Commander Dudley W. Morton, Wahoo’s Commanding Officer, reported this action as “Another running gun fight … destroyer gunning … Wahoo running. Shaved head on crewman at right is a product of an Equator crossing ceremony three days previously.” 80-G-38602

Two views of the same action. LT Richard H. O’Kane, XO, at the periscope, and LCDR Dudley W. Morton, skipper, with another officer, in Wahoo’s conning tower during the boat’s attack on a Japanese convoy north of New Guinea, 26 January 1943. Several ships, among them the transport Buyo Maru, were sunk in this action. 80-G-37034 &80-G-37033

USS Wahoo (SS-238) Provides food and water to the crew of a becalmed fishing boat, circa January 1943. The original caption, released with this photograph on 3 March 1943, reads: “Act of Mercy While on the war patrol during which she sank a Japanese destroyer and a convoy of four ships, the submarine Wahoo, commanded by LCdr. Dudley W. Morton, USN, of Miami, Fla., came across a small fishing boat, becalmed. Three of the crew of nine aboard the fishing vessel had died when the submarine found her. Three remaining crew members were without food and water. This picture shows members of the submarine’s crew handing water and food to the men in the fishing vessel. A few days later the Wahoo destroyed the Japanese destroyer and convoy. View looks forward from Wahoo’s machinegun platform.” NH 42275

USS Wahoo (SS-238) arrives at Pearl Harbor at the end of her third war patrol, circa 7 February 1943. The original caption, released with this photograph on 3 March 1943, reads: “Hero’s Welcome A Navy band is on hand to greet the submarine Wahoo on her return to Pearl Harbor following a patrol during which she sank a Japanese destroyer and an entire enemy convoy of four ships. The battle with the convoy lasted for a period of 14 hours. Note that Wahoo’s radar antennas have been crudely censored out of the image.” NH 42274

Lieutenant Commander Dudley W. Morton, commanding officer of USS Wahoo (SS-238), at right, with his executive officer, Lieutenant Richard H. O’Kane, on the submarines open bridge, at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, after her very successful third war patrol, circa 7 February 1943. Official U.S. Navy photograph now in the collections of the National Archives, 80-G-35725.

Fourth War Patrol (23 Feb 1943, Pearl Harbor- 6 Apr 1943, Midway)

For her fourth patrol, Wahoo went to the Yellow Sea west of Korea and just ran amok, only returning after she expended all 24 of her torpedoes.

She sank the cargo ship Zogen Maru (1428 GRT) and damaged the freighter Kowa Maru (3217 GRT) east of Dairen on 19 March, sank the cargo ships Hozan Maru (2260 GRT) and Nittsu Maru (2183 GRT) on 21 March, on 23 March sent the cargo ships Teisho Maru (9849 GRT) and Takaosan Maru (2076 GRT) via torpedoes then finished up with the smaller Satsuki Maru (830 GRT) via gunfire.

Nittsu Maru (Japanese cargo ship) sinking in the Yellow Sea, off China on 23 March 1943. Periscope photograph taken from USS Wahoo (SS-238), which had torpedoed the ship. Official U.S. Navy photograph now in the collections of the National Archives, 80-G-60948.

She finished her run with the cable ship Yamabato Maru (2256 GRT) south of Kyushu, Japan, and two sampans.

Her claimed kills were a bit higher.

Fifth War Patrol (25 Apr 1943, Midway-21 May 1943, Pearl Harbor)

Going to the Kurile chain for her fifth patrol, Wahoo sank two confirmed freighters– Takao Maru (3204 GRT) and Jimmu Maru (1912 GRT) — off Kone Zaki, north-eastern Honshu on 9 May. She ended, again, with no torpedoes left, having steamed 6,828 nm.

Her 5th war patrol claims:

Following the end of the patrol, she was sent back to Mare Island for a much-needed overhaul, carrying almost 30,000 miles on her diesels and the effects of multiple depth charging runs from the Empire.

A series of photographs from the Bureau of Ships Collection in the U.S. National Archives remains to document her condition at this stage of her hard life.

USS Wahoo (SS-238) Off the Mare Island Navy Yard, California, 14 July 1943. 19-N-48937

USS Wahoo (SS-238) At the Mare Island Navy Yard, California

USS Wahoo (SS-238) At the Mare Island Navy Yard, California, 16 July 1943. Circles mark recent alterations to the submarine. The lighter YC-312 is alongside. YF-239 and YF-200 are in the left-center distance. 19-N-48941

USS Wahoo (SS-238) At the Mare Island Navy Yard, California, 16 July 1943. White outlines mark recent alterations to the submarine. The lighter YC-312 is alongside. 19-N-48942

Sixth War Patrol (2 Aug 1943, Pearl Harbor-29 Aug 1943, Pearl Harbor)

The sixth patrol of Wahoo, conducted in the target-rich Japan Sea, suffered from defective Mark 14 steam torpedoes. None of the 10 fish fired in nine attacks on enemy merchantmen resulted in a torpedo hit but she was able to sink a trio of sampans with surface gunfire.

The patrol reports of the failed attacks are crushing:

She made good in surface actions against fishing boats– at least her guns worked!

Across her first six patrols, she claimed 27 ships sunk, totaling 119,100 tons, and damaged two more, making 24,900 tons. Of these, most were on Mush Morton’s three patrols, in which Wahoo had sunk a claimed total of 93,281 tons of shipping in only 25 patrol days.

Leaving the boat was her talented XO, Dick O’Kane, who was called up to the big leagues and rewarded with a command of his own, the Balao-class boat USS Tang (SS-306).

Seventh (Last) War Patrol (9 Sep 1943, Pearl Harbor-lost on/about 11 October 1943, in La Perouse Strait)

Sent back to the Sea of Japan– armed with the new Mark 18 electric torpedo, instead of the hated Mark 14s– Wahoo was the only Allied warship active there when the fishing vessel Hokusei Maru (1394 GRT) was lost west of the Kuril Islands on 21 September, the gunboat Taiko Maru (2958 GRT) west of the Tsugaru Strait on 25 September, the freighter Masaki Maru No.2 (1238 GRT) in the Sea of Japan east of Hungnam on 29 September, the transport Konron Maru (7908 GRT) in Tsushima Straits on 5 October, the cargo ship Kanko Maru (1283 GRT) off Korea on 6 October, and the cargo ship Hankow Maru (2995 GRT) off the Oga Peninsula on 9 October. Good hunting!

However, the hunter became the hunted, and Wahoo never made it back to Pearl, with her war flags flying and crew beaming. Postwar, it was determined that Japanese E13A1 “Jake” floatplanes out of Wakkanai, supporting the submarine chasers Ch-15 and Ch-43, and minesweeper Wa-18, following up on the sighting of a strange submarine by the coast artillery battery on Soya Misaki, responded and chased Wahoo to the bottom of the in La Perouse Strait on the morning of 11 October 1943.

The wreck, found in 2004 resting 12 miles off the northeast coast of Hokkaido in the middle of the strait, confirms the place and cause of her destruction.

She was lost with all 80 hands. Declared officially dead in 1946, all are memorialized at the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific (Punchbowl) on the Court of the Missing.

“Going Home,” watercolor on paper by Georges Schreiber, 1943; accession # 88-159-JN as a gift of Abbott Laboratories.

Wahoo earned six battle stars for World War II service.

Wahoo is one of 64 American subs (52 from WWII alone) still listed as being on “Eternal Patrol,” remembered in markers across the country. Of note, Gato-class sisters USS Corvina (SS-226) and USS Dorado (SS-248) were both lost within days of Wahoo, with all hands. (Photo: Chris Eger)

For a deeper dive into USS Wahoo, please see Warfish.com.

In all, “Mush” Morton would be awarded four Navy Crosses, the final one posthumously.

Commander Dudley Walker Morton USN (USNA 1930) is remembered with a memorial stone at Arlington National Cemetery, Arlington Virginia, Memorial Section MH, Plot 669.

Epilogue

The fighting spirit of Mush Morton and the Mighty Wahoo would endure long after they were gone.

A billboard at Mare Island in late 1943, highlighting the exploits of the Yard’s famed sub, albeit in a PG-rated format. 80-G-K-15091

Wahoo’s plans, deck logs, and patrol reports (1-6) are digitized in the National Archives. 

Wahoo’s ship’s bell and commissioning pennant, which had been stored at Pearl Harbor while she was on her wartime service, are preserved at the USS Bowfin Submarine Museum & Park along with a marker honoring her.

In 1995, the Wahoo Peace Memorial cenotaph was dedicated in Japan at Cape Soya near Wakkanai overlooking the La Perouse Strait where the submarine was lost.

The Forrest Sherman-class destroyer USS Morton (DD-948) was named in honor of Wahoo’s most famous skipper. Built at Ingalls and nicknamed “The Saltiest Ship in the Fleet!” due to the obvious Morton’s Salt reference, she served until 1982, chalking up several stints off Vietnam including close-in NGF support and Sea Dragon operations off North Vietnam.

Dick O’Kane, who according to the NHHC took part in more successful submarine attacks than any other American officer across five patrols with Wahoo and five more in command of Tang, earned the Medal of Honor, three Navy Crosses, three Silver Stars, and the Legion of Merit with Combat “V.” After Tang suffered a sinking via a runaway torpedo in the Formosa Sea, O’Kane and four of his surviving crewmen were “rescued” by the Japanese. After surviving the war at just 88 pounds and testifying as a witness at the Japanese War Crime trials, he returned to duty, retiring in 1957 as a rear admiral after having punched tickets as COMSUBDIV 32 and as the Officer in Charge of the Sub School at New London.

RADM Dick O’Kane passed in 1994 and both he and his wife are buried at Arlington National Cemetery and is on the list of Top Ten U.S. Navy Submarine Captains in World War II by the total number and tonnage of confirmed ships sunk during the conflict, just ahead of Morton.

O’Kane’s legacy lives on. The USS O’Kane (DDG-77), a Navy destroyer, was commissioned in Pearl Harbor in 1999 and continues to serve based out of San Diego.

USS O’Kane (DDG 77) ‘s “Battle Cat” war flag is a Rising Sun flag trampled by the “kills” O’Kane chalked up in his career. Meanwhile, her ship’s crest includes dolphins, the MoH, and four Navy crosses

The former rear admiral’s Medal of Honor is kept at the USS Bowfin Submarine Museum and Park in Honolulu.

Further, his cribbage board, which he presented to the second Tang (SS 563) in 1957, is handed down to each oldest fast-attack submarine in the Pacific Fleet. Since that boat retired, it has been handed down to USS Kamehameha (SSBN 642), USS Parche (SSN 683), USS Los Angeles (SSN 688), USS Bremerton (SSN 698), USS Olympia (SSN 717) and now USS Chicago (SSN 721).

191022-N-KB401-0021 JOINT BASE PEARL HARBOR-HICKAM Oct. 22, 2019 — Cmdr. Benjamin J. Selph, commanding officer, USS Olympia (SSN 717), plays a game of cribbage on the O’Kane board against Cmdr. Chance Litton, commanding officer, USS Chicago (SSN 721).

Wahoo’s legacy lived on as well. Two different Tench class submarines (SS-516 and then SS-518) were to have carried the name but never made it into service. A Tang-class boat, SS-565, did, however, in 1952. She served until 1980, one of the final diesel boats on active duty with the U.S. Navy.

USS Wahoo (SS-565) underway in the Pacific, 24 July 1978. USN 1174147

The famed original Wahoo’s battle flag and fairweather featured a Native American with a war bonnet with feathers for each Japanese ship the boat had sunk. The second Wahoo continued the tradition via the Al Capp character “Lonesome Polecat,” armed with a torpedo-tipped arrow.

A planned Block 5 Virginia-class submarine, SSN-806, will be the third USS Wahoo commissioned. Likewise, her sister SSN-805 will be the third USS Tang.

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.

If you liked this column, please consider joining the International Naval Research Organization (INRO), Publishers of Warship International

They are possibly one of the best sources of naval study, images, and fellowship you can find. http://www.warship.org/membership.htm

The International Naval Research Organization is a non-profit corporation dedicated to the encouragement of the study of naval vessels and their histories, principally in the era of iron and steel warships (about 1860 to date). Its purpose is to provide information and a means of contact for those interested in warships.

With more than 50 years of scholarship, Warship International, the written tome of the INRO, has published hundreds of articles, most of which are unique in their sweep and subject.

PRINT still has its place. If you LOVE warships, you should belong.

I’m a member, so should you be!

A Somber Visit to Kaga

Posted on by Leave a comment

In a continuation of the footage coming out of the recent 27-day expedition by E/V Nautilus over the seabed of the Midway battlefield, the lost Japanese aircraft carrier Kaga was visited and extensively filmed.

As described in Combined Fleets, her death spiral took place over nine hours on 4 June 1942:

  • 1022 (0722 JST) As fighters prepare to launch, approximately 30 enemy dive-bombers overhead reported by HIRYU and also sighted by lookouts about to attack. KAGA takes evasive action to starboard, avoiding first three bombs but is struck by a minimum of one 1,000-pound (450-kg) and three 500-pound (230-kg) bombs from USS ENTERPRISE (CV-6)’s Douglas SBD “Dauntless” VS-6 and VB-6 led by LtCdr (later Rear Admiral) Wade McClusky (USNA ’26) inducing explosions among armed and fueled torpedo planes on the hangar decks, aggravated by unstored ordnance, starting a raging aviation gasoline fire. One of the bombs destroyed the bridge, killing most there including Captain Okada, Executive Officer Capt. Kawaguchi Masao (47), Navigator Cdr. Kodota Kazuharu, Gunnery Officer LtCdr. Miyano Tosaburo (52). As a result, KAGA is left with only surviving damage control officers, inexperienced personnel, and aviators to fight the fires. The fires are soon out of control. Switched to emergency steering. (At the same time, AKAGI and SORYU also set afire by bombing.)
  • 1130: Comcardiv 2 (Rear Admiral Yamaguchi Tamon on HIRYU) orders ComCrudiv 8 (Rear Admiral Abe Hiroaki) to assign one destroyer each to the three damaged carriers, and have the damaged carriers retire toward Yamamoto’s Main Body. The order is repeated at 1147. KAGA under supervision of the First Damage Control Officer attempts to comply, still making about 5-8 knots.
  • 1300 (1000 JST) About this time KAGA’s engine gang is either overcome, or ordered to stop the ship (Only a third of them would survive; 213 of them perished.) The carrier goes dead in the water. HAGIKAZE moves up to assist.
  • 1325: The Imperial Portrait is transferred via the forecastle to HAGIKAZE. Elsewhere, the senior surviving officer Air Officer Cdr. Amagai Takahisa (51) directs all non-essential personnel, particularly aviators, to abandon ship and jumps into the sea with them.
  • 1410: (1110 JST) KAGA is attacked by LtCdr (later Rear Admiral, retired) William H. Brockman’s (USNA ’27) submarine USS NAUTILUS (SS-168). One torpedo hits the starboard quarter, but fails to explode. Counter-attack by depth charge is made, but results unknown.
  • 1640 The situation judged hopeless, all remaining personnel are ordered (apparently by the First Damage Control Officer) to abandon ship. They are removed or subsequently rescued from the sea by destroyers HAGIKAZE and MAIKAZE.
  • 1715: HAGIKAZE reports to Nagumo that all remaining personnel on KAGA having earlier been ordered to abandon ship, have now been taken aboard the two destroyers.
  • 1750 Nagumo reports to Yamamoto: “KAGA is inoperational in (grid) position HE E A55. All survivors have been transferred to destroyers.”
  • 1800 Comdesdiv 4 on ARASHI orders HAGIKAZE to “keep a watch on KAGA until further notice.” He also asks KAGA and SORYU’s escorts if either carrier was starting to sink.
  • 1830: ComDesdiv 4, having received false report of approaching enemy forces, orders NOWAKI, HAGIKAZE, HAMAKAZE, and ISOKAZE to continue to screen their assigned damaged carriers, but if the enemy approaches, to engage them.
  • 1856: Sunset. Shortly after this time, KAGA and SORYU are apparently ordered scuttled. A final caretaker crew is removed from KAGA by a written order.
  • Sunk: 1925 (1625 JST) destroyer HAGIKAZE fires two torpedoes into her starboard side amidships aft. The KAGA begins to settle by the stern, yet remains on an even keel until she slides from sight in approximate position 30-23.3’N, 179-17.2′ W. She suffers a loss of 814 officers, petty officers, and men.
And so we remember. 
 
There are no roses on sailors’ graves,
Nor wreaths upon the storm-tossed waves,
No last post from the King’s band,
So far away from their native land,
No heartbroken words carved on stone,
Just shipmates’ bodies there alone,
The only tributes are the seagulls sweep,
And the teardrop when a loved one weeps.

A Haunting Look at the USS Yorktown and IJN Akagi

Posted on by 2 comments

E/V Nautilus, in a 27-day expedition funded by NOAA Ocean Exploration via the Ocean Exploration Cooperative Institute, in conjunction with a whole alphabet soup of other agencies and institutes (U.S. Naval History and Heritage Command, International Midway Memorial Foundation, Papahānaumokuākea Marine National Monument, Office of Hawaiian Affairs, the State of Hawaiʻi, U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service, University of Maryland, University of Rhode Island, University of Hawaiʻi, Bureau of Ocean Energy Management, Defense POW/MIA Accounting Agency, Air/Sea Heritage Foundation, and Japanese archaeological colleagues from Teikyo University, Tokai University, and Tokyo University of Marine Science and Technology) has been surveying the deep sea bed related to the Battle of Midway.

With that, they have released an extensive 27-minute survey of the lost carrier USS Yorktown (CV 5), conducted on 9 September.

Via EV Nautilus:

Ocean Exploration Trust’s survey of USS Yorktown during our Ala ʻAumoana Kai Uli expedition was the first time the world could witness this Battle of Midway wreck in real-time. The site was discovered 25 years ago, located during a joint U.S. Navy and National Geographic Society expedition led by Dr. Robert Ballard, president and founder of Ocean Exploration Trust. All dives in the Battle of Midway battlefield were launched and closed with protocol ceremonies to honor this place and all who lost their lives in ways that reflected their significance to Kānaka ʻOiwi (Native Hawaiian), Japanese, and U.S. military families and communities.

This historic, noninvasive, visual survey dive was conducted during a 27-day NOAA-funded mission to explore never-before-seen deep-water habitats to collect baseline data needed to support management in the most remote and northwestern section of Papahānaumokuākea Marine National Monument (PMNM). PMNM is a UNESCO World Heritage site distinguished for both its cultural and natural significance, the only site with this special distinction in the U.S. It is currently being considered for national marine sanctuary designation to safeguard further its diverse natural, cultural, and maritime heritage resources for generations to come.

The day after they visited Yorktown, the expedition made the first visual survey of the lost IJN Akagi, the Queen of Japanese flattops, on 10 September.

Via EV Nautilus:

Ocean Exploration Trust’s visual survey of the Japanese aircraft carrier Imperial Japanese Navy (IJN) Akagi 赤城 is the first time anyone has laid eyes on the vessel since sinking during June 1942’s Battle of Midway. Akagi was initially located during a mapping survey conducted by Vulcan, Inc. in 2019 that involved U.S. Navy participation. On September 10, 2023, E/V Nautilus team spent 14 hours surveying Akagi, examining battle and seafloor collision damage in the ship’s structure. The dive was launched and closed with protocol ceremonies to honor this place and all who lost their lives in ways that reflected their significance to Kānaka ʻOiwi (Native Hawaiian), Japanese, and U.S. military families and communities.

« Older Entries Recent Entries »