Category Archives: littoral

Warship Wednesday, Nov. 22, 2023: From Midway to Trafalgar

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. 22, 2023: From Midway to Trafalgar

Above we see a great bow-on shot of the FRAM’d Gearing class destroyer USS Eugene A. Greene (DD/DDR-711)with a bone in her teeth in her second life as the Spanish Navy’s Churruca (D61) in the 1980s, the country’s traditional crimson and gold Rojigualda ensign on her mast, a twin 5″/38 hood ornament and two forward-facing Mk.32 triple torpedo tubes under the bridge wings. Her original moniker comes from naval aviator Eugene Allen Green, born 98 years ago this week.

The Gearings

In July 1942 the U.S. Navy, fighting a U-boat horde in the Atlantic and the Combined Fleet in the Pacific was losing ships faster than any admiral ever feared in his worst nightmare. With that in mind, the Navy needed a lot of destroyers. While the Fletcher and Allen M. Sumner classes were being built en mass, the go-ahead for some 156 new and improved Sumners— stretched some 14 feet to allow for more fuel and thus longer legs to get to those far-off battlegrounds– was given. This simple mod led to these ships originally being considered “long hull Sumners.”

These hardy 3,500-ton/390-foot-long tin cans, the Gearing class, were soon being laid down in nine different yards across the country.

Designed to carry three twin 5-inch/38 cal DP mounts, two dozen 40mm and 20mm AAA guns, depth charge racks and projectors for submarine work, and an impressive battery of 10 21-inch torpedo tubes (downgraded to just 5 tubes) capable of blowing the bottom out of a battleship provided they could get close enough, they were well-armed. Fast at over 36 knots, they could race into and away from danger when needed.

Meet Eugene A. Greene

Our subject is the first Navy ship to be named in honor of Eugene Allen Green, born in Smithtown, New York on 21 November 1921. A 1940 graduate of Rhode Island State College, he attended ROTC while in school and promptly enlisted in the U.S. Navy Reserve’s air cadet program, earning his ensign bar along with his wings of gold by August 1941.

Assigned to Bombing (VB) Six aboard USS Enterprise (CV-6) in March 1942, he gave his last full measure behind the controls of his SBD (6-B-9) at the ripe old age of 21 during the Battle of Midway when, following the attack by VB-6 against the aircraft carrier Kaga on 4 June, he was one of 14 of the “Big E’s” pilots that had to ditch their planes on the way back home, out of fuel. Greene and his gunner, RM3c SA Mutane, along with the crews of eight other ditched aircraft from Enterprise that day, would never be seen again.

Greene was granted a posthumous Navy Cross in December 1942 and his widow, Mrs. Anita M. Greene, would sponsor the destroyer named in his honor.

The second of 16 Gearings contracted via Federal Shipbuilding, Kearny, New Jersey, the future USS Eugene A. Greene (DD-711) was laid down on 17 August 1944, launched the following March, and commissioned on 8 June 1945.

War!

While 98 Gearings would eventually be completed, most of these arrived too late to take part in WWII, with Greene joining a club that only included 44 sisters who arrived very late in the war. Although some were present in the final push to Tokyo, none were damaged or lost. Three of the class– USS Frank Knox, Southerland, and Perkins— entered Tokyo Bay in time to be present at the Japanese surrender, on 2 September 1945.

As for Greene, her WWII service, as detailed by her War History, consisted primarily of a shakedown cruise ranging from Penobscot Bay, Maine to Guantanamo Bay then, in mid-August following the news of the Japanese surrender, was assigned to the Atlantic fleet to serve as a school ship in Norfolk and Casco Bay, then to Pensacola to assist as a plane guard for aviation cadets– a task she would be well-versed in over her career.

USS Eugene A. Greene (DD-711) off New York City on 29 May 1946. She is still painted in wartime Camouflage Measure 22. NH 66345

A Chilly Peace

As the Navy’s newest destroyers, none of the new Gearings were mothballed after the war.

On 13 February 1947, Greene sailed south in a task group bound for Montevideo, Uruguay, to participate in the festivities accompanying the inauguration of the country’s new president, Tomás Berreta. The group also paid a goodwill visit to Rio de Janeiro before returning to Norfolk on 31 March.

Light cruiser USS Fresno (CL-121) on port call at Rio De Janeiro, March 1947, alongside her Gearing class consorts, USS Gearing, USS Gyatt, and USS Eugene A. Greene. Note the stern depth charge racks. The quartet was returning from Uruguay where they represented the U.S. at the inauguration of the new Uruguayan president. The Fresno was launched in 1946, too late to serve in WWII, so she took part in good-will diplomatic missions like this. She was sold for scrap in 1966. Photo attributed to Robert Norville, from NavSource.

As detailed by DANFS, the Norfolk-based Greene then became a staple of the 6th Fleet until 1960:

On 10 November 1947, Eugene A. Greene sailed on the first of 9 Mediterranean cruises made over the next 13 years. During those years, she and her sisters of the U.S. 6th Fleet have guarded the interests of peace and order in that sea which was the cradle of democratic government. Voyages to northern Europe and the Arctic varied the routine of overseas deployment for Eugene A. Greene.

What was skipped by DANFS was the fact that Greene was on hand in the region for five months through the 1956 Suez Crisis just in case she was needed.

It should be noted that, by this stage, she was significantly modernized, picking up a new tripod mast with AN/SPS-6 L-band radar (later augmented by an SPS-8A S-band capable of spotting aircraft 60nm away) and lightened her topside by landing most of her WWII AAA suite, torpedoes, and depth charges. This resulted in a change to a destroyer radar picket (DDR-711) that she held from July 1952 until she reverted to the simpler DD-711 in March 1963.

USS Eugene A. Greene (DD-711) underway at sea on 19 September 1950. Note that she has received a new tripod mast with AN/SPS-6 radar and has landed much of her WWII AAA suite, torpedoes, and depth charges. National Archives Identifier 24743125

At sea, October 1951. 80-G-442191

USS Eugene A. Greene (DDR-711) off the Norfolk Naval Shipyard on 18 December 1952. National Archives Identifier 24743145

Same as the above, bow on 24743147

Same as the above, stb profile. Note the newly installed AN/SPS-8 air search radar aft for her role as a DDR picket. 24743143

The Frostiest Part of the Cold War

Greene experienced the life that came with all the classic 1960s naval adventures in the Atlantic.

Greene is on the list of U.S. Navy ships that received the Armed Forces Expeditionary Medal for participating in the Cuban quarantine, from 24 October through 20 November 1962.

Roger Powell missed ship’s movement of the destroyer USS Rush (DD-714) — along with 44 other shipmates as she sortied out over the weekend on little notice– and was tacked on to help fill out Greene’s crew, similarly, headed for Cuba to be a plane guard alongside the USS Enterprise.

Greene would undergo a nearly year-long FRAM I reconstruction at Boston NSY, completed in October 1963. Meant to add 8 years to the ship’s life via a complete rehabilitation of all shipboard components, it also fundamentally changed the destroyer to a modern sub-buster. The 5″/38 Mount 52 forward was removed during the rebuild while a hangar and platform for the QH-50C DASH ASW drone was added in place of the SPS-8A radar house.

Also new was an 8-cell ASROC matchbox launcher amidships, SQS-23 SONAR, VDS, and a six-pack of Mark 32 torpedo tubes. She added Mk 44 ASW torps to her magazine, for use by her own Mk32s as well as DASH, which theoretically could drop them some 20 miles away from the destroyer.

When she left Boston, she became first the flag of Destroyer Squadron 28, then DESRON 32.

Like most East Coast-based Navy ships in the era, Greene participated in several NASA recovery missions between other assignments, logging two (Mercury-Atlas 2 and 3) in early 1961 and Gemini-Titan 2 (GT-2) in 1965, supporting the primary recovery ship, USS Lake Champlain (CVS-39).

A great view of the post-FRAM’d USS Eugene A. Greene (DD-711) steaming past USS Lake Champlain (CVS-39) during operations on 23 September 1964. Note her ASROC amidships and her big DASH hangar aft in place of the deleted Mount 52. She still carries her aft mount (Mount 53) and forward (51). One of the carrier’s big Sikorsky SH-3 Sea King ASW helicopters is flying by in the right foreground, and another destroyer is in the left distance. Photographer: AN Thomas J. Parrett. NH 107007

Speaking of the Med, Greene would make another four deployments there between 1968 and 1972– and on two of them job into the Persian Gulf/Indian Ocean to show the flag in the increasingly important region. This included a seven-month goodwill cruise with the U.S. Middle East Force in 1968 during which she was the first U.S. ship to enter the new Iranian port of Bander Abbas, doing the Shah’s Navy the courtesy of charting the harbor from end to end with her advanced sonar.

Earning “blue noses” for her crew, she also took part in Operation Deep Freeze ’69 in the Antarctic and two North Atlantic cruises that crossed the Arctic Circle. Warming up, she went to Latin America once again in UNITAS ’68.

War! (This time for real)

Greene, being a top-of-the-line ASW boat post FRAM mods, also sailed to the Pacific to take part in a West Pac deployment (June-December 1966) to Vietnamese waters, shipping via the Panama Canal, Pearl Harbor, Guam, Subic Bay, and Hong Kong to take up station as a plane guard alongside the carrier USS Constellation (CVA-64) on 28 July.

There she remained for a month at sea, every day closing to within 4,000 yards with a rescue detail at the ready in case one of Conny’s birds went into the drink, all the while her sonar techs kept an ear out for anything funny in the depths.

USS Constellation (CVA-64), the third ship named for the configuration of 15 stars on the original United States Flag shows an A-4 Skyhawk given landing instructions by a technical crewman using the Landing Signal Officer’s (LSO) console as the LSO watches, October 1966. Greene was her primary plane guard during a good part of Conny’s 1966 Far East Cruise (12 May–3 December) with CVW-15 on board during which 16 aircrewmen and 15 aircraft were lost in operations. K-33638

This lifeguard work paused on 21 August when Greene was dispatched to close to the South Vietnam littoral under control of Task Unit 70.8.9 where she stood by in the Republic of Vietnam’s I Corps area on call for naval gunfire support missions. Over the next five days, her gunners got in lots of work as she steamed as close as 2,000 yards from shore answering NGFS calls with 311 rounds of HE and WP and providing 90 nighttime star shell illumination for friendly outposts. She was credited with annihilating an enemy base camp, wiping out a platoon-sized element of infiltrators in the open, and destroying several enemy supply buildings.

A sampling from her deck log:

Headed back to Yankee Station after rearming while underway, she worked alongside the carrier USS Coral Sea for the rest of her deployment until she slipped her port shaft in October and had to limp into Tse Ying, Taiwan, for a quick fix that would get her to Subic Bay. Returning to Norfolk in December via the Suez and the Med, Greene ended up circumnavigating the globe in a 205-day around-the-world deployment.

In short, her 27-year career with the U.S. Navy was diverse and, well, just remarkably busy. It was little surprise one of her lasting nicknames was “The Steamin’ Greene.”

But all good things must come to an end and on 31 August 1971, with Greene almost eight promised years to the dot past her FRAM I service life extension, she was decommissioned.

A second life

With the general post-WWII rapprochement between a still very fascist Franco and the Western allies, the 1953 Madrid agreements thawed the chill between the U.S. and the country, opening it to military aid in return for basing.

Soon, the country would receive its first modern submarine, the snorkel-equipped USS Kraken (SS-370) (taken in service as Almirante García de los Reyes, E-1), later joined by three Guppy’d Balao-class smoke boats.

Then came five Lepanto-class destroyers– WWII Fletcher-class tin cans– starting with USS Capps (DD-550) in 1957, which were transferred. The old light carrier USS Cabot was loaned to the Spanish Navy on 30 August 1967, which renamed her Dédalo (R.01).

In many ways, the Spanish fleet by the late 1960s, was very American.

These were soon joined by five FRAM I Gearing class destroyers, starting with USS Eugene A. Greene (DD/DDR-711) in 1972. By this time, the Spanish were also slated to get five new-made Baleares-class frigates, variants of the Knox class destroyer escort/fast frigates updated with Standard SAM suites.

Greene, still on the Navy List, was loaned to Spain the same day she was decommissioned. Renamed Churruca (D61) she honored RADM Cosme Damián Churruca y Elorza, who was lost on his ship-of-the-line San Juan Nepomuceno at Trafalgar in 1805.

Muerte de Cosme Damián Churruca (detalle), Eugenio Álvarez Dumont

Stricken from the U.S. Navy List on 2 June 1975 three years after she joined the Spanish Navy, Greene was sold to Spain for a token fee and remained in service with the force through the 1980s, class leader of her 11th Destroyer Division sisters. To be fair, although they were 30 years old, these FRAM I Gearings in the 1970s and 80s were still capable against Russki Whiskey, Romeo and Foxtrot-type smoke boats and their guns still worked enough for old-school NGFS should the large Spanish naval infantry need fire missions.

Period photos of Churruca show her still very much in her prime.

With the Cold War ending, so did the Gearings worldwide. Churruca was stricken by Spain on 15 September 1989, and disposed of in a SINKEX in 1991.

Sent to the bottom by a mixture of ordnance from Spanish Air Force F-18s and Spanish Navy AV-8 Matadors as well as some Standard missiles and Harpoons, her death was captured on grainy video, much like a snuff film.

Her four sisters in Spanish service (Gravina, ex-USS Furse; Méndez Núñez, ex-USS O’Hare; Lángara, ex-USS Leary; and Blas de Lezo, ex-USS Noa) were all disposed of within another year.

Epilogue

Greene’s deck logs are digitized in the National Archives and represent one of the few items left of the old girl. 

Of her massive armada of 98 Gearing-class sisterships that were completed, 10 survive above water in one form or another including three largely inactive hulls in the navies of Mexico and Taiwan. The others are museum ships overseas except for USS Joseph P. Kennedy, Jr. (DD-850) in Fall River, Massachusetts; and the USS Orleck (DD-886) in Jacksonville. Please visit these vital floating maritime relics.

Orleck, fresh out of dry dock, being towed to her new home in Jacksonville


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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Preserving Ms. Higgins

US Coast Guard-manned LCVP landing craft carried invasion troops toward Luzon in Lingayen Gulf, 9 Jan 1945

PA31-17, a humble 36-foot long LCVP (Landing Craft, Vehicle, and Personnel), or “Higgins boat” after the New Orleans manufacturer that churned them out by the thousands (23,000 to be exact) in WWII, was found derelict on the shores of Shasta Lake in fall 2021.

The thing is, although it was old and damaged, it was still in more or less original condition, still with lots of her Higgins-installed mahogany including the original paint on the ramp.

Further, it turned out that PA31-17, assigned throughout the war to the Crescent City class attack transport USS Monrovia (AP-64), landed troops on the beach in seven different campaigns– Sicily, Tarawa, Kwajalein, Saipan (the last three with Devil Dogs of the 2nd Marine Division), Guam (77th Infantry Division), Luzon (96th Infantry then 1st Cavalry Division) and Okinawa (6th Marine Division).

Acquired by the Nebraska National Guard Museum in Columbus, Nebraska—the birthplace of Andrew Higgins, the organization made the move to protect it, not restore it.

So who do you get to stabilize an 80-year-old combat veteran wooden landing craft? A 75-year-old combat veteran woodworker, that’s who. Eric Hollenbeck with Blue Ox Millworks in Eureka, California took on the two-month task and it is documented in The Craftsman – Preserving the Last Higgins Boat, which I just saw online on Max but it is out there on other platforms as well.

If you have a chance, do check it out.

Coastie Update: Increasingly International

One thread that I have noticed is that the personnel and cash-strapped U.S. Coast Guard is plugging in a lot more joint spaces, both within DOD and with international partners. While a lot of people have some sort of misunderstanding that the USCG is just a guy sitting in a fan boat on the iced-over Great Lakes in winter, or some poor shlub cleaning the weeds from a channel marker in the middle of the Ohio River, they are also spanning the globe.

Three examples:

James

The 418-foot National Security Cutter James (WMSL 754) just returned home to Charleston, following a 113-day patrol in the Eastern Pacific Ocean.

During the patrol, James’ crew disrupted illegal narcotics smuggling, interdicting 12,909 kilograms of cocaine and 7,107 pounds of marijuana valued at over $380 million. While in theater, James interdicted eight drug-smuggling vessels and apprehended 23 suspected traffickers, including one low-profile vessel laden with contraband.

James’ crew conducted multiple joint operations with foreign partner nations such as Ecuador and Mexico. James conducted a passing exercise with the Mexican Navy’s ARM Chiapas. During the exercise, James practiced close-quarters tactical maneuvering and landed the Chiapas’ Panther helicopter on deck. 230806-G-G0100-1001

If you take a look at the crew that shipped out on the four-month East Pac cruise, not only do you see the Coast Guard blue, but there are also four contractors (top left) for the Scan Eagle UAV, as well as a contingent of two Marines, a Soldier, and five Bluejackets (center) who most likely provided medical, commo, and terp support in the region. At the stern is a HITRON MH-65 detachment of airborne precision rifle experts. 

Coast Guard Cutter James Port Everglades, Florida, Oct 26, 2023. 231026-G-FH885-1002

Horne

The 154-foot Fast Response Cutter Terrell Horne (WPC-1131) returned home to California last week after a 52-day patrol across 4,000 miles of the Eastern Pacific, conducting operations and international engagements with Mexico, Ecuador, Peru, and Costa Rica. That’s a lot of time and distance for a 154-foot boat, a platform that is proving very adept at ranging far and wide.

The crew of the Terrell Horne deployed in support of multiple missions, including Operations Green Flash, Albatross, Martillo, and Southern Shield, within the 11th Coast Guard District’s area of responsibility. During the patrol, Terrell Horne’s crew conducted a range of missions encompassing law enforcement, counter-drug operations, illegal, unreported, and unregulated fishing enforcement, and search and rescue operations.

Dauntless

Meanwhile, in the Caribbean, the Portsmouth-based RN Type 45/Daring-class destroyer HMS Dauntless (D33) is currently serving as the West Indies station ship and, with a USCG Tactical Law Enforcement Team (TACLET) aboard, spent the summer running successful interdiction missions with the ship’s embarked Wildcat helicopter and RM 42 Commando snipers riding shotgun.

HMS Dauntless flies the Royal Navy Ensign and Law Enforcement Detachment (LEDET) flag from the sea boats prior to boarding a suspect vessel in the Caribbean Sea.

HMS Dauntless’ embarked Law Enforcement Detachment team (LEDET) go to ‘boarding stations’ after finding a suspect vessel in the Caribbean Sea.

HMS Dauntless conducting a drugs intervention/rescue mission whilst operating in the Caribbean region.

HMS Dauntless conducting a drugs intervention/rescue mission whilst operating in the Caribbean region.

HMS Dauntless’ embarked Law Enforcement Detachment (LEDET) leave the ship in sea boats in preparation to apprehending a suspect vessel in the Caribbean Sea.

Coast Guard Mothballing Cutters Due to Recruiting Shortfalls

It seems the USCG, which is increasingly strung out across the globe backfilling a short-hulled/staffed Navy, is itself running on empty after years of failing to meet recruiting goals through a variety of societal and administrative reasons.

Among the austerity measures in the crew-poor Coast Guard, which is 10 percent understaffed across the board:

  • Three 210-foot Reliance class Medium Endurance Cutters (WMEC) will be placed in layup, pending decommissioning.
  • ​Seven 87-foot Patrol Boats (WPB) will be placed in layup, pending reactivation.
  • Five 65-foot Harbor Tugs (WYTL) will temporarily not be continuously manned but will be kept in a ready status in case icebreaking is needed. 
  • Two 154-foot Sentinel (Webber) class Fast Response Cutters (WPC) will commence uncrewed Recurring Depot Availability Program (RDAP) at the Coast Guard Yard in Baltimore, Maryland. The next 154′ Patrol Craft scheduled for RDAP will deliver the hull to the Coast Guard Yard and swap hulls with a cutter that has completed drydock.  
  • Crews at all 23 seasonal station smalls will transfer to their parent command.
  • The six non-response units (boat forces units without SAR responsibilities) will suspend operations and their crews will be reassigned in assignment year (AY) 2024.
  • The identified 19 stations whose SAR response capabilities are redundant will be deemed Scheduled Mission Units. Three of these 19 stations will be ports, waterways and coastal security (PWCS) level one-Scheduled Mission Units.  

    Maybe this explains why the service is making moves to expand its JROTC units nationwide among other initiatives. It announced its first California-based JROTC unit last week at Mission Bay High School in San Diego.

    SAN DIEGO — The U.S. Coast Guard announces the establishment of its first California-based Junior Reserve Officers’ Training Corps (JROTC) program. Photo by: Photo by Petty Officer 3rd Class Nicolas Cavana | VIRIN: 231027-G-LC063-6158

    The Coast Guard established its first JROTC unit in 1992, in Miami. Under recent federal legislation, the Coast Guard is expanding the JROTC program to each of its nine Districts by 2025. Studies show that about 20 percent of all JROTC participants go on to join the military.

    FFH Group & Surveillance Force Grenada, 1983-84

    As a wrap of our coverage of the 40th anniversary of the 1983 invasion of Grenada, we take a look at the unique surface action group that arrived to assist in the peacekeeping phase of the operation, which ran roughly through November and December when the last U.S. combat troops were withdrawn– that of hydrofoils operating with a frigate mothership.

    Mid-November 1983 found the newly commissioned Oliver Hazard Perry-class frigate USS Aubrey Fitch (FFG-34), along with the two equally new Pegasus-class hydrofoil patrol boats, USS Aquila (PHM-4) and Taurus (PHM-3) in Guantanamo Bay “for the purpose of testing the feasibility of operating those types of ships in the same task organization.”

    As noted by Fitch’s DANFS entry, she assumed tactical control of the hydrofoils and jetted over to Grenada:

    Demands incident to the continuing American presence in Grenada, however, overtook the experiment and sent Aubrey Fitch and her two consorts south to the tiny republic. Duty in the waters adjacent to Grenada lasted until mid-December when the warship returned to Mayport.

    All three were eligible for the Armed Forces Expeditionary Medal for Urgent Fury.

    Aquila and Taurus would return to their homeport at Key West on 16 December and spend the rest of their career in unsung law enforcement support work in the Caribbean and off Central America, being decommissioned as a class in 1993 with their sisters and disposed of in 1996.

    Fitch lasted a little longer. Decommissioned on 12 December 1997, the frigate was stricken from the Naval Vessel Register on 31 May 1999 and sold for scrap shortly after.

    Sadly, there are no photos I can find of Fitch and her two ‘foils operating together in Cuba-Grenada Oct-Dec 1983, which is tragic, but drink in these were taken of the ships separately early in their careers.

    USS AUBREY FITCH (FFG 34) underway 1982 Bath trials DN-SC-85-04417

    USS AUBREY FITCH (FFG 34) underway 1982 Bath trials DN-SC-85-04399

    USS AUBREY FITCH (FFG 34) underway 1982 Bath trials DN-SC-85-04401

    hydrofoils USS AQUILA (PHM 4), front, and USS GEMINI (PHM 6), center, lie tied up in port with a third PHM. The Coast Guard surface effect ship (SES) cutter USCGC SHEARWATER (WSES 3) is in the background. NARA photo

    Hydrofoil patrol combatant missile ship USS TAURUS (PHM 3) race by. Navy hydrofoils are regularly used on Joint Task Force 4 drug interdiction missions.

    DN-ST-90-09381 The patrol combatant missile hydrofoils USS HERCULES (PHM 2) and USS TAURUS (PHM 3) maneuver off of Key West, Florida.

    Seattle pegasus class hydrofoil USS Taurus (PHM-3) during her acceptance trials

    USS Hercules (PHM-2) and Taurus (PHM-3) 1983

    Cue USCG

    As for what happened from a maritime perspective after Fitch and her PHMs returned home, the answer is that the Coast Guard took over the task of policing Grenada’s waters for the next year, and it should be pointed out that two HC-130s and the 378-foot Hamilton-class cutter USCGC Chase (WHEC 718), which was deployed from 23 Oct – 21 Nov 1983, served during the shooting-part of Urgent Fury, earning the deploying units the Armed Forces Expeditionary Medal for their service.

    The follow-on Operation Island Breeze USCG Grenada Getaway response was a WWII-era 180-foot Balsam (Iris) class buoy tender that served as the mothership for three rotating 95-foot cutters drawn from the Florida-based Seventh Coast Guard District, allowing the small boat crews to get some showers and better food as well as mechanical support from the tender’s extensive onboard workshop.

    On 8 December 1983, the Cape-class patrol cutters Cape Gull (WPB-95304), Cape Fox (WPB-95316), Cape Shoalwater (WPB 95324), and the tender Sagebrush (WLB-399) arrived off of the island of Grenada to replace U.S. Navy surface forces conducting surveillance operations after the U.S. invasion of the island earlier that year.

    Commissioned on 1 April 1944, Sagebrush spent most of her service life home-ported in San Juan, Puerto Rico, earning four USCG Unit Commendations before she was decommissioned on 26 April 1988.

    USCGC Cape Fox (WPB 95316) celebrating Christmas 1983 off Grenada 1983.

    Note the two mounted M2 .50 cals, rare for Capes in the 1980s, as well as the Christmas tree on deck.

    The Capes used three crews, Green, Blue, and Red, rotating out every 30 days, and used backpack HF radio sets borrowed from the Army to communicate with the forces ashore. Support shoreside for the roughly 100-man force came from two 20-foot containers in port converted into shops.

    For air support, they had HC-130Hs out of Clearwater fly over occasionally, taking off and recovering at CGAS Borinquen, as well as a weekly logistics run.

    They would remain on station until 3 February 1984 when replaced by a similar group, a task that would run through the end of the year.

    The WPB/WLB force was rotated out roughly every three months in 1984 and saw the buoy tender USCGC Mesquite (WLB 305), her sister USCGC Gentian (WLB 290), and the 140-foot icebreaker (!) Mobile Bay (WTGB 103) which sailed from Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin. Meanwhile, the number of WPBs was cut from three to two. 

    The sum, as detailed by ADM James S. Gracey, USCG:

    After a few days, the Navy figured out that patrolling around the island to keep people from coming on or going off, additional people coming on or other people from escaping, wasn’t working very well with Navy PCs or whatever they were using, whereas our smaller patrol boats would do the job very well. So we took over. We were there long after everybody else had gone home doing this operation and other things that the Coast Guard always does when we are someplace. That was Grenada.

    A lasting legacy of the USCG in Grenada was the reformation of the Grenadian Coast Guard, an organization that endures today, with a little help from its northern neighbor.

    Warship Wednesday, Nov. 1, 2023: Mad Marcus

    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. 1, 2023: Mad Marcus

    Photographer: PHCM/AC Louis P. Bodine Official U.S. Navy Photograph, from the collections of the Naval History and Heritage Command. Catalog #: NH 107602

    Above we see a great 1968 image of the Edsall-class destroyer escort-turned-radar picket, USS Vance (DER-387) underway off the coast of Oahu. At this time in the little tin can’s life, she had left her mark on the end of two German U-boats, frozen in polar expeditions, logged three very trying tours off coastal Vietnam, and survived a real-life Lt. Commander Queeg who, no shit, was named for a Roman emperor.

    She was brought to life on this day in 1943.

    The Edsall class

    A total of 85 Edsall-class destroyer escorts were cranked out in four different yards in the heyday of World War II rapid production with class leader USS Edsall (DE-129) laid down 2 July 1942 and last of class USS Holder commissioned 18 January 1944– in all some four score ships built in 19 months. The Arsenal of Democracy at work–building tin cans faster than the U-boats and Kamikazes could send them to Davy Jones.

    The U.S. Navy destroyer escort USS Edsall (DE-129) underway near Ambrose Light just outside New York Harbor on 25 February 1945. The photo was taken by a blimp from Squadron ZP-12. Edsall is painted in Camouflage Measure 32, Design 3D. U.S. Navy photo 80-G-306257

    These 1,590-ton expendable escorts were based on their predecessors, the very successful Cannon-class boats but used an FMR type (Fairbanks-Morse reduction-geared diesel drive) propulsion suite whereas the only slightly less prolific Cannons used a DET (Diesel Electric Tandem) drive. Apples to oranges.

    edsallArmed with enough popguns (3×3″/50s, 2x40mm, 8x20mm) to keep aircraft and small craft at bay, they could plug a torpedo into a passing enemy cruiser from one of their trio of above-deck 21-inch tubes, or maul a submarine with any number of ASW weapons including depth charges and Hedgehogs. Too slow for active fleet operations (21 knots) they were designed for coastal patrol (could float in just 125 inches of seawater), sub-chasing, and convoy escorts.

    Meet USS Vance

    Our subject is the only U.S. Navy warship to carry the name of Joseph Williams Vance, Jr.. A mustang who volunteered for the Navy Reserve at age 21 in 1940, the young Seman Vance served aboard the old battlewagon USS Arkansas (BB-33) and, as he had university hours at Southwestern and Florida on his jacket, was appointed a midshipman in the rapidly expanding Navy after four months in the fleet. Joining the flush deck tin can USS Parrott (DD-218) in the Philippines on 16 April as an ensign in charge of the destroyer’s torpedo battery. Facing the Japanese onslaught in the Western Pacific, Ensign Vance picked up a Bronze Star at the Battle of Makassar Strait (24 January 1942)– the Navy’s first surface action victory in the Pacific– saw action in the Java sea and the Badoeng Strait, and, by Guadalcanal, had been promoted to lieutenant (junior grade). With the promotion came a transfer– to the ill-fated HMAS Canberra, as liaison officer with the Royal Australian Navy. He was aboard Canberra on that tragic night off Savo Island on 9 August 1942 when the Kent-class heavy cruiser was sent to the depths of “Ironbottom Sound” with 73 other members of her crew.

    His body lost to sea at age 23, his family remembered Joe in a cenotaph at Bethlehem Cemetery in Memphis. He is also marked on the Tablet of the Missing at the Manila American Cemetery and Memorial. The paperwork for Makassar Strait caught up to him eventually and his family was presented his bronze star posthumously.

    The future Vance (DE-387) was laid down on 30 April 1943 at Houston, Texas by the Brown Shipbuilding Co. and launched just 10 weeks later on 16 July 1943.

    She was sponsored by the late Lt. (jg.) Vance’s grieving mother, Elizabeth Sarah “Beth” Harrison Vance, and Joe’s sister, Willie.

    A Coast Guard-manned DE, Vance’s pre-commissioning crew was formed in August 1943 at the sub-chaser school in Miami while their ship was under construction on the other side of the Gulf of Mexico. Consisting of 40 officers and men drawn from across the USCG– most had seen war service chasing subs and escorting convoys across the Atlantic. This skilled cadre left Miami after two months of training and headed to Houston in early October, joining 30 newly minted techs and specialists direct from A schools and 130 assorted bluejackets right from basic.

    All hands moved aboard USS Vance on 1 November 1943 when she was commissioned at the Tennessee Coal & Iron Docks in Houston, LCDR Eric Alvin Anderson, USCG, in command. As noted by her War History, “The shipyard orchestra played for the commissioning ceremonies and later sandwiches and coffee were served to all hands.”

    Following outfitting and shakedown cruises off Bermuda, Vance became the flagship for the all-USCG Escort Division (CortDiv) 45, including the sequentially numbered sisters USS Lansing (DE-388), Durant (DE-389), Calcaterra (DE-390), Chambers (DE-391) and Merrill (DE-392) with Commodore E.J. Roland raising his command pennant aboard on 19 December.

    The CNO, ADM Ernest J. King, had, in June 1943, ordered the Coast Guard to staff and operate 30 new (mostly Edsall-class) destroyer escorts on Atlantic ASW duties, trained especially at the Submarine Training Centers at Miami and Norfolk. Each would be crewed by 11 officers and 166 NCOs/enlisted, translating to a need for 5,310 men, all told.

    By November 1943, it had been accomplished! Quite a feat.

    The USCG-manned DEs would be grouped in five Escort Divisions of a half dozen ships each, 23 of which were Edsalls:

    • Escort Division 20–Marchand, Hurst, Camp, Crow, Pettie, Ricketts.
    • Escort Division 22–Poole, Peterson, Harveson, Joyce, Kirkpatrick, Leopold.
    • Escort Division 23–Sellstrom, Ramsden, Mills, Rhodes, Richey, Savage.
    • Escort Division 45–Vance, Lansing, Durant, Calcaterra, Chambers, Morrill.
    • Escort Division 46–Menges, Mosley, Newell, Pride, Falgout, Lowe.

    These ships were soon facing off with the Germans in the Atlantic and Mediterranean.

    War!

    Celebrating Christmas 1943 at sea “being tossed around like a matchstick,” Vance’s first escort job was to ride shotgun on a group of tankers running from Port Arthur, Texas to Norfolk just after the New Year, then escorting the jeep carrier USS Core (CVE-13) to New York City.

    She crossed the Atlantic with her division to escort a large slow (7-10 knots) convoy, UGS.33, to Gibraltar in February then turned around to the return trip with a GUS convoy, returning to the Med with UGS 39 in May, where she would come face to face with the enemy. On 14 May 1944, the Type VIIC sub U-616 (Kplt. Siegfried Koitschka) torpedoed two Allied merchants– the British flagged G.S. Walden (7,127 tons) and Fort Fidler (10,627 tons).

    From Vance’s war history:

    Eight American destroyers and aircraft from five squadrons hunted U-616 until it was sunk on 17 May, lost with all hands.

    1944 Palermo, Sicily – USS Vance (DE 387) via navsource

    Following her battle with U-616, Vance would recycle and cross the Atlantic again with UGS.46 in June, UGS.53 in September, UGS.66 in January 1945, UGS.78 in March 1945, and UGS.90 in May 1945. The latter dispersed on 18 May as it wasn’t considered needed after the German surrender.

    It was on this last convoy that the advanced Type IXD2 Schnorchel-fitted submarine, U-873 (Kptlt. Friedrich Steinhoff), was sighted on the surface at 0230 on 11 May off the Azores by Vance and her sister, Durant. Finding Steinhoff’s crew, illuminated by 24-inch searchlights and with every gun on two destroyers trained on them, ready to surrender and the boat making no offensive actions, Vance put a whaleboat with the ship’s XO, Lt. Carlton J. Schmidt, USCGR; Ensign Vance K. Randle, USCG; and 19 enlisted aboard to take U-873 as prize. They found seven Kriegsmarine officers and 52 enlisted, about half of whom had come from the gesunken U-604.

    By 0410, a spare U.S. ensign was hoisted aboard the German boat, and Vance, departing the convoy with her prize, made for Bermuda, then was directed to Casco Bay to bring the sub to Portsmouth, New Hampshire, arriving there on the 17th.

    U-873 is under her own power, manned by 2 officers and 19 crewmembers of USS Vance DE 387. Notably, U-873 carried a rare twin 3.7 cm Flakzwilling M43U on the DLM42 mount, seen stern. Photo courtesy of Joe Haberkern, son of Joseph W. Haberkern, Jr., MoMM2/C, Plankowner

    Captain Friedrich Steinhoff (wearing white cap) and Officers and Crew of Surrendered German U-873 on Deck of Tug, Portsmouth, New Hampshire, May 17, 1945. Note the Marine to the right with a Reising SMG at the ready. NARA photo

    Steinhoff under heavy Marine guard

    Crewmembers of USS Vance DE 387. Showing items from their captured German U-boat, U-873. Photo courtesy of Joe Haberkern, son of Joseph W. Haberkern, Jr., MoMM2/C, Plankowner

    Sadly, as detailed by U-boat.net, even though VE-Day was well past, post-war POW life would not be kind to U-873‘s crew.

    Steinhoff and his men were taken, not to POW camp, but to Charles Street Jail, a Boston city jail where they were locked up with common criminals while awaiting disposition to a POW camp. There are many accounts of mistreatment of the U-boat men while they were held there.

    After suffering harsh interrogation, Steinhoff- [brother of rocket scientist and future U.S> Army rocketry bright bulb Ernst Steinhoff] committed suicide on the morning of 19 May 1945, opening his arteries using broken glass from his sunglasses. U-873‘s doctor, Dr. Karl Steinke, attempted to give first aid but was too late.

    Steinhoff was buried in the military cemetery at Fort Devens, age 35, while the rest of his crew were sent to warm their skin in a Mississippi POW camp until repatriated.

    As for U-873, she was placed in dry dock for a design study of her type by Portsmouth Naval Shipyard engineers and then later transferred to the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard for tests. After trials, the U-boat was scrapped in 1948, her lessons being rolled into the Navy’s GUPPY program.

    For Vance, her war in the Atlantic and Med was over.

    She put into Boston Naval Yard for additional AAA guns and departed on 2 July 1945 bound for the Pacific. Crossing through “The Ditch” and putting into San Diego then Pearl Harbor, she was there with orders to sail for the 5th Fleet in Philippine waters when news of the Japanese surrender overtook her.

    Ordered to the Green Cove Springs, Florida reserve fleet, she was decommissioned on 27 February 1946. Her Coast Guard crew returned to their home service, with most being demobilized. Her skipper for five of her eight convoy runs and the capture of U-873, LCDR Frank Vincent Helmer, USCG (USCGA ’35), would go on to retire as a rear admiral during the 1960s.

    The Edsall class, 1946 Janes.

    Break out the White Paint

    With the dramatic surge in air and maritime traffic across some downright vacant stretches of the Pacific that came with the Korean War, the USCG was again tapped to man a growing series of Ocean Stations. Two had been formed after WWII and the Navy added another three in 1950, bringing the total to five.

    These stations would serve both a meteorological purpose– with U.S. Weather Bureau personnel embarked– as well as serve as floating checkpoints for military and commercial maritime and air traffic and communication “relay” stations for aircraft on transoceanic flights crisscrossing the Pacific. Further, they provided an emergency ditch option for aircraft (a concept that had already been proved by the Bermuda Sky Queen rescue in 1947, which saw all 69 passengers and crew rescued by the cutter Bibb.)

    As detailed by Scott Price in The Forgotten Service in the Forgotten War, these stations were no picnic, with the average cutter logging 4,000 miles and as many as 320 radar fixes while serving upwards of 700 hours on station.

    Ocean station duty could be monotonous at one moment and terrifying the next, as the vessels rode out storms that made the saltiest sailors green. One crew member noted: “After twenty-one days of being slammed around by rough cold sea swells 20 to 50 feet high, and wild winds hitting gale force at times, within an ocean grid the size of a postage stamp, you can stand any kind of duty.”

    A typical tour was composed of arriving at Midway Island for three weeks on SAR standby, three weeks on Ocean Station Victor midway between Japan and the Aleutian Islands, three weeks on SAR standby at Guam, two weeks “R and R” in Japan, three weeks on Ocean Station Sugar, three weeks on SAR standby Adak, Alaska, and then back to home port.

    To stand post on these new ocean stations and backfill for other cutters detailed to the role, the Navy lent the USCG 12 mothballed Edsalls (Newell, Falgout, Lowe, Finch, Koiner, Foster, Ramsden, Rickey, Vance, Lansing,  Durant, and Chambers), nine of which the service had originally operated during WWII.

    To man these extra vessels and fill other wartime roles such as establishing new LORAN stations and pulling port security, the USCG almost doubled in size from just over 18,000 to 35,082 in 1952.

    The conversion to Coast Guard service included a white paint scheme, an aft weather balloon shelter (they would have to launch three balloons a day in all sea states), and the fitting of a 31-foot self-bailing motor surfboat for rescues in heavy weather. The USCG designator “W” was added to the hull number, as was the number 100.

    This brings us to Vance, some seven years in Florida mothballs, being recommissioned as the white-painted USCGC Vance (WDE-487) on 9 May 1952. She was stationed at Honolulu, and, assigned to the Commander Philippine Section, served on Ocean Station Queen there from 2-23 August 1953, and again on 4-24 October 1953.

    Coast Guard Cutter Vance WDE 487 working with a Sangley Point USCG-operated PBM-5G, one of two PBM-5Gs and a JRF that were assigned to augment the PBY-5As there in 1951-53. Importantly, one of the Sangley Point PBMs went to attempt the rescue of a VP-22 P2V-5 Neptune (BuNo 127744) crew shot down in the Formosa Strait while the aircraft was on a covert patrol along the Communist Chinese coast near Swatow. USCG photo 211103-G-G0000-002

    Vance was decommissioned for a second time on 3 April 1954 and returned to the Navy.

    DER

    The DER program filled an early gap in the continental air defense system by placing a string of ships as sea-based radar platforms to provide a distant early warning line to possible attack from the Soviets. The Pacific had up to 11 picket stations while the Atlantic had as many as nine. A dozen DEs became DERs through the addition of SPS-6 and SPS-8 air search radars to help man these DEW lines as the Atlantic Barrier became fully operational in 1956 and the Pacific Barrier (which Vance took part in) by 1958.

    To make room for the extra topside weight of the big radars, they gave up most of their WWII armament, keeping only their Hedgehog ASW device and two Mark 34 3-inch guns that would eventually be fitted with aluminum and fiberglass weather shields.

    DER conversion of Edsall (FMR) class ships reproduced from Peter Elliot’s American Destroyer Escorts of WWII

    Detail of masts. Note the WWII AAA suite, one of the 3″ guns, and centerline 21-inch tubes have been landed

    Vance was towed to the Mare Island Naval Shipyard in November 1955 for conversion to a radar picket destroyer escort. Designated DER-378 as a result, she recommissioned for a second time on 5 October 1956, a 12-year-old Navy escort with its first Navy skipper, CDR Albert Martin Brouner (USNA ‘44).

    USS Vance (DER-387) underway in San Francisco Bay, California (USA), on 1 November 1956. Note her 3-inch guns are open, which would change in the 1960s when they would get distinctive weather shields. Photo via Navsource

    As detailed by DANFS:

    Between March of 1957 and the end of the year, Vance was homeported at Seattle, Wash., as a unit of CortDiv 5 and completed eight patrols on various stations of the Radar Early Warning System in the northern Pacific. Each tour lasted approximately 17 days, and the ship maintained a round-the-clock vigil with air-search radars, tracking and reporting every aircraft entering or approaching the air space of the northwestern United States.

    This continued into 1958 when she shifted homeports to Pearl Harbor; and she began operating with CortRon 7, the first ship working the DEW line in the newly organized Pacific barrier patrol. This would continue through early 1965, with a segway to join TF43 for Deepfreeze ’62, serving as the relay ship for aircraft bringing supplies to the Antarctic stations from Dunedin, New Zealand between August 1961 and March 1962. In this duty, she was called “The Loneliest Ship in the Navy.”

    Then came Vietnam.

    Market Time

    With the DEW line service fading as far as the Navy was concerned at the same time the Navy established Operation Market Time (March 1965-1972) to prevent North Vietnamese ships from supplying enemy forces in South Vietnam, recycling the fleet’s increasingly idle shallow-draft DERs into what would be today called a littoral combat ship was an easy choice.

    Vance would complete four WestPac cruises (March-Sept 1965, Jan.-August 1966, Dec. 1966- August 1967, Jan-Aug. 1968) with the 7th Fleet, detached to TF 115 for use in brown water. Of note, she was the first DER to take a Market Time station, reporting for duty to CTU 71.1.1 on 1 April 1965, and soon after was the first U.S. Navy ship to take aboard a Vietnamese Navy Liaison Officer while underway.

    USS VANCE South China Sea 1966. Note the weather shields on her 3-inch mount

    For example, during this time Task Force 115 consisted of an LST mothership, 70 Navy PCFs, 26 Coast Guard 82-foot patrol boats (WPBs), with the support of the “big boys” in the form of eight DERs (including Vance), and 16 smaller minesweepers (six MSCs, and 10 MSOs).

    USS Vance (DER-387) – November 1967. Note her Hedgehog device uncovered and ready to rock 

    A typical breakdown of how one of these deployments would run can be had from Vance’s 220-day 1967 stint which included 62 days on Market Time operations in the Vietnam littoral, 24 days on the tense Taiwan Patrol, and 15 days in Hong Kong as SOPA Admin station ship. To illustrate just how busy a Market Time rotation could be, in her short 1965 deployment which included just 92 days under TF 115, Vance had 1,538 radar contacts, sighted visually 1,001, and investigated 185 vessels.

    USS Vance (DER-387) underway at sea on 26 November 1967 NHHC

    Among the more notable incidents while on Market Time was saving Capt. Leland D. Holcomb, USAF, who had ejected from a burning F-100 Super Sabre in 1965 while on a ferry mission from Danang to Clark AFB in the PI. Her 1966, 1967, and 1968 reports are on file in the NHHC and make interesting and sometimes entertaining reading.

    Vance as radar picket 1960s with her glad rags flying. Note by this time the large EW “pod” on her aft mast.

    Oh yeah, something else happened while off Vietnam as well.

    The Arnheiter Affair

    LCDR Marcus Aurelius Arnheiter entered West Point in 1946 but subsequently resigned, later obtaining an appointment to Annapolis where he passed out as 628th of 783 mids in 1952 and then saw Korean War service on the battleship USS Iowa (BB-61). He later saw much service on destroyers (USS Ingersoll– where he served as XO– Fiske, Coolbaugh, Abbot, and Worden), held a series of staff appointments in the Pentagon where he authored a novel (Shadow of Pearl) under a pseudonym before arriving on Vance’s quarterdeck as her 14th (7th Navy) skipper on 22 December 1965.

    Just 99 days later, he was relieved of his first, and last, seagoing command.

    The scandal over just what happened in those 99 days aboard Vance is lengthy, including a book by NYT writer Neil Sheehan that was the subject of a libel suit filed by Arnheiter. Suffice it to say, there are avenues to dig deeper if you are curious but among the (many) oddities seen on Vance during Arnheiter’s command was the purchase (through MWR funds!) of a 16-foot fiberglass speedboat that was armed with a .30 caliber M1919 machine gun and painted with a shark’s mouth.

    The speedboat was supposed to be for interdiction and patrol work but ended up getting Vance’s crew into problems time after time.

    Other oddities included the skipper’s insistence to blare the Hellcat Reveille over the 1MC while in port rather than a simple bosun call for reveille, follow gun line destroyers into no-go areas while they were performing NGFS ashore to the point that said destroyer’s skipper directed the radio traffic be recorded and incident logged, establishing a “boner box” in the wardroom with mandatory levies of 25-cents per perceived infraction, requiring non-religious personnel to attend services, cruising danger close to shore (like within small arms range) while only one engine was working, doubling the small arms locker from 15 authorized M1 Garands to 30 without permission then holding wild live-fire drills in congested waters (to include reportedly keeping a rifle on the bridge wing that the skipper would use to zip off rounds at random “sea snakes” while VBSS crews were away checking a sampan.)

    Following a six-day non-judicial inquiry at Subic, Arnheiter was removed from his command quietly but not reprimanded or court-martialed, even though he repeatedly requested the latter to clear his name, even lobbying Congress. He ended up retiring from the service in 1971, still as an LCDR, and passed in 2009, aged 83. Sheehan died in 2021, likely closing the matter although both continue to be the subject of much conversation.

    As for USS Vance, her usefulness ended following extensive Vietnam service, she was decommissioned on 10 October 1969.

    Her fellow DERs shared a similar fate, either laid up in mothballs or transferred to overseas allies.

    1973 Janes on the Edsall class DERs.

    Stricken on June 1, 1975, Vance was used as a target for several years off the California coast until finally sent to the bottom in deep water in a 1985 SINKEX.

    Vance in August 1983 when being used as a target ship off San Francisco. The sign amidships reads “Target Ship – Stand Clear.” Photo from Ozzie Henry who acquired them from a sailor at a DESA Convention. Via the USS Vance veterans’ group.

    Vance received seven battle stars for USN service in Vietnam in addition to her USCG service in WWII and Korea.

    Epilogue

    Vance’s war history, plans, and diaries are in the National Archives.

    Vance’s memories are carried forward by a well-organized veterans’ group and they last had a reunion last October in Georgia.


    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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    Making it Rain, Guam & Caron edition

    Of the 22 U.S. Navy warships and auxiliaries tasked with supporting Operation Urgent Fury– the invasion of Grenada– some 40 years ago this week, two really stand out, the old ‘phib USS Guam (LPH-9) and the newer Sprucan, USS Caron (DD-970).

    Guam gets a big nod, of course, because, of the 116 American servicemen wounded in the four-day operation, Guam treated no less than 77 in her cramped hospital suite after they were medivaced to her deck just offshore.

    Speaking of which, Guam was also the main launching/refueling point for the helicopters of the 82nd Airborne and 22nd MAU for the operation and logged a whopping 1,214 launchings and landings in Urgent Fury.

    Flight deck crewmen hose down a UH-60 Blackhawk helicopter upon its landing aboard the amphibious assault ship USS Guam (LPH 9) during Operation Urgent Fury, October 25, 1983. The helicopter’s engine was hit by anti-aircraft fire on the island of Grenada. JO1 Sundberg. DN-SN-85-02069

    Flight operations take place aboard the amphibious assault ship USS Guam (LPH 9) off the coast of Grenada during Operation Urgent Fury. Visible on the flight deck are two UH-1N Iroquois helicopters, a CH-46 Sea Knight helicopter, and a CH-53 Sea Stallion helicopter. JO1 Sundberg. October 25, 1983. DN-SN-85-02037

    But if Guam’s “Grenada Get Away” is largely forgotten, Caron’s is never even mentioned, which is a crying shame.

    Commissioned 1 October 1977 at Pascagoula, USS Caron is the only warship ever named for HC3c Wayne Maurice Caron, a MoH recipient who gave his last full measure at age 21 as a corpsman with 3d/7th Marines in Vietnam, mortally wounded while going to save those who needed him.

    The destroyer that carried his name lived up to it in Grenada.

    As detailed by DANFS:

    After embarking Capt. Grant A. Sharp, Commander, DesRon 32, on 19 October 1983, Caron got underway for deployment to the Mediterranean the following day as part of the Independence Battle Group. However, on 21 October, Caron was detached from the battle group and diverted to Grenada at “max speed” in support of Operation Urgent Fury.

    As the first U.S. Navy ship to arrive on the scene on 23 October 1983, Caron paused 12 miles off the coast of Grenada to gather intelligence. With the Special Forces amphibious assault on the island already underway, in the early morning hours of 25 October, destroyer Moosbrugger (DD-980) and guided missile frigate Clifton Sprague (FFG-16) joined Caron, and the ships steamed at 25 knots for Point Saline with their arrival planned for daybreak. While advancing toward the island, Caron recovered a small craft with 12 Special Forces troops embarked that had been carried to sea by strong currents. Later in the morning while conducting a search and rescue operation for a downed Bell AH-1T Cobra of Marine Medium Helicopter Squadron 261 near St. George’s Harbor, Caron avoided enemy mortar rounds while operating close to shore.

    On the afternoon of the 25th, Caron fired her 5-inch guns towards the site of the communist propaganda station “Radio Free Grenada,” allowing a 12-man Navy Sea, Air and Land (SEAL) team to evade enemy forces surrounding their position there. That night, as fighting continued to rage on the island, Caron responded to a visual signal from shore and rescued ten of the SEALs who had escaped from the radio transmitter site, two of whom had suffered serious injuries. While Caron’s medical staff treated the wounded men, the destroyer directed Sikorsky UH-60 Blackhawks to the beach to rescue the two remaining SEALs from the team. The following evening, the ship also saved 11 U.S. Army Rangers whose helicopter had crashed.

    Caron remained on the scene at Grenada through 2 November 1983. During this time, she continued to patrol within range of hostile gunfire, ready to provide naval gunfire support for land and amphibious troops. All told, Caron’s search and rescue efforts saved 41 soldiers and sailors. “Caron demonstrated in a wartime environment what our forces are capable of,” Capt. Sharp remarked, “and the readiness that ‘Can-Do’ Caron is known for.” For her actions in the Grenadian conflict, Caron received the Armed Forces Expeditionary Medal.

    Artwork: “USS Caron Neutralizes Radio Free Grenada – Beausejour Bay”. by Mike Leahy, via the Naval History and Heritage Command. U.S. Navy Combat Art Center, Washington Navy Yard. U.S. Navy photo by the Navy Audiovisual Center.DN-SC-85-07100.

    She would keep her guns blistered in the coming weeks.

    Escorting Guam and the 22nd MAU from Grenada to Lebanon, she would be called for NGFS ashore on 8 February 1984, plastering enemy positions with 450 5-inch shells, then follow up on another fire call on 25-26 February, firing 141.

    Keep in mind that Spruance-class tin cans only had enough room for about 1,200 rounds of assorted 5-inch in their magazines, if they were fully loaded.

    Caron later received the Navy Expeditionary Medal for her service off Lebanon.

    As for retirement, Guam decommissioned on 25 August 1998 after 33 years of service and was disposed of in a SINKEX three years later while Caron, decommissioned on 15 October 2001 after just 24 years, would likewise be deep-sixed at the hands of the same Navy she once served so well.

    Coasties in New Places…and with new Cutters

    Last week, the 154-foot Sentinel-class fast response cutter USCGC Frederick Hatch (WPC 1143), based in Guam, visited Tacloban in the Philippines on the occasion of the 79th Leyte Gulf Landing Anniversary while the larger frigate-sized USCGC Stratton (WMSL 752) called in Manila.

    Hatch is the first of her class to visit the Philippines and will certainly not be the last as the FRCs are sailing far and wide, increasingly roaming around the West Pac. If you are curious, while calling at Tacloban she was 1,300 miles away from home, certainly within range as they have been logging patrols as long as 8,000nm in recent months. 

    Colleagues from the Philippine Coast Guard prepare to receive the crew of the USCGC Frederick Hatch (WPC 1143) at the pier in Tacloban, Philippines, on Oct. 19, 2023. In a historic first, the USCGC Frederick Hatch (WPC 1143) visited Tacloban, Philippines, from Oct. 19 to 23, 2023, and the crew conducted engagements marking a significant milestone in the enduring relationship between the United States and the Philippines. (U.S. Coast Guard photo by Cmdr. Ryan Crose)

    From the CG PAO:

    “The expanded capabilities of the Fast Response Cutter represent more than just advanced technology; they symbolize the bridge of cooperation and goodwill between nations. The FRCs and their dedicated crews regularly play a pivotal role in international diplomacy. These vessels, along with their highly trained and professional crews, are ambassadors of peace and collaboration, said Capt. Nick Simmons, commander of U.S. Coast Guard Forces Micronesia/Sector Guam. “They foster understanding and trust across borders, making the seas safer not only for our own nations but for all nations that rely on the freedom of navigation and maritime security.”

    Hatch is the 43rd FRC and was commissioned in July 2021, so she is a new hull.

    The class has been around since 2012 when the leader, USCGC Bernard C. Webber (WPC 1101) was commissioned and sent to Miami.

    Of relevance, the fourth of the class commissioned, USCGC Robert Yeard (WPC 1104) joined the fleet in 2013 and is currently out of the water at the CG Yard in Maryland where she is getting an overhaul, offering some great shots of her hull form.

    As detailed by the cutter’s social media page:

    Every three years the Yered gets hauled out for some much-needed maintenance including a top-end overhaul of the mains and a full paint job. For the next 140 days, it will be stripped, sprayed, welded, shafts and props dropped replaced, and cleaned. As hard as this ship works and runs, it needs it.

    For reference, all of the FRCs are built by Bollinger in New Orleans and the current program of record is 65 hulls, although plans are for at least two to be placed in uncrewed a Recurring Depot Availability Program (RDAP)– otherwise known as “ordinary” back in the day, due to empty billets across the USCG. 

    OPC Progress

    Meanwhile, the future USCGC Argus (WMSM-915), the lead ship of the Heritage-class Offshore Patrol Cutter program and the sixth cutter to carry the name, is set to side-launch at Eastern Shipbuilding Group’s Nelson Shipyard near Panama City, Florida on Friday and proceed to finish fitting out in prep for commissioning.

    Offshore Patrol Cutter ARGUS in launch position. Photo Eastern Shipbuilding Group

    Offshore Patrol Cutter ARGUS in launch position. Photo Eastern Shipbuilding Group

    The Heritage class is so-called as they are all to be named for historic cutters, a move I for one support and wish the Navy would take a hint when it comes to naming conventions. For example, the initial cutter Argus was one of the first 10 ships assigned to the U.S. Revenue Cutter Service, a predecessor service to the Coast Guard in 1791. Of the 10 original cutters assigned to the RCS, Argus spent the longest time in service. Subsequent cutters Argus were commissioned in 1804, 1809, 1830, and 1850.

    Interestingly, the first OPC’s sponsor is not a politician but  Capt. Beverly Kelley, USCG, (Ret). She was the first woman to command an American military vessel when she was piped aboard the 95-foot Cape-class patrol boat USCGC Cape Newagen in 1979.

    Kelly, a University of Miami alum who graduated from OCS in 1976, seen on Cape Newagen’s bridge back in the day when the USCG still allowed beards without a profile. She went on to skipper the 270-foot cutter Northland (WMEC-904) as well as the 378-foot cutter Boutwell (WHEC-719) before retiring in 2006, capping a 30-year career that included 18 in sea-going billets.

    More on the Heritage (Argus) class

    OPC Characteristics:
    • Length: 360 feet
    • Beam: 54 feet
    • Draft: 17 feet
    • Sustained Speed: 22 Plus knots
    • Range: 8500 Plus nautical miles
    • Endurance: 60 Days

    The main armament is an Mk 110 57mm gun forward with an MK 38 25mm gun over the stern HH60-sized hangar, and four remote .50 cal mounts. 

    I say replace the Mk38 with a C-RAM, shoehorn a towed sonar, ASW tubes, an 8-pack Mk41 VLS crammed with Sea Sparrows, and eight NSSMs aboard, then call it a day.

    But no one listens to me…

    Current spending on the overbudget and overtime project puts the ships at $704 million per hull. Hopefully, this can be amortized out now that a second yard (Austal in Mobile) is working on the cutters and a big reason why Eastern is so far behind is a mix of teething issues with the brand-new design (in particular non-compliant shafts delivered by Rolls-Royce for the first to hulls) and the 2021-22 supply chain/Covid slow down.

    As the OPC program of record is for 25 cutters– replacing the smaller 13-strong Bear class and 16-member Reliance classes of cutters– and, knowing the Coast Guard will be the backbone of the force in blue water for the next 40 years, it is important to get it right.

    Portugal’s sub force getting it done

    The modern Tridente-class submarine, a unique fuel cell AIP variant of the German Type 209PN/Type 214PN, has been in operation since 2010 with the Portuguese Navy. While three were envisioned, just two were completed– NRP Tridente (S160) and NRP Arpão (S161).

    Tridente-class submarine of the Portuguese navy

    The country has made good use of these in recent deployments and in bird-dogging passing Russian warships. Speaking to the former, Arpão in August wrapped up a 120-day patrol as part of the Open Sea Initiative 23.2, in the South Atlantic, which contributed to strengthening military and diplomatic relations between Portugal and each of the countries visited — Cape Verde, Brazil, South Africa, Angola, and Morocco– having traveled more than 13,000 miles and spent over 2,500 hours underway.

    She reportedly covered the length of the African continent submerged in 15 days.

    Arpão (FrigCapt. Taveira Pinto) arrived in Lisbon in August after her deployment which made her the first Portuguese submarine to carry out an equator-crossing mission.

    Interestingly, her 35-member crew is co-ed.

    You have to love Arpão’s patch. Of note, Arpão means “Harpoon”

    Turning around just 60 days later, Arpão has deployed again, this time to the Med as part of NATO’s Operation Sea Guardian, on a patrol that will run into December and include taking part in Dynamic Mariner 23.

    She is a good-looking boat for sure.

    Portuguese Sub Heritage

    As noted in this week’s Warship Wednesday, in 1914 Portugal had a single submarine to its name, a small Fiat-designed La Spezia-built boat, dubbed Espadarte (Swordfish). Ordered in 1910, this 148-foot/300-ton diesel-electric boat would remain in service until 1930.

    Espadarte, seen here in Lisbon, was the first sub in the Marinha Portuguesa)

    NRP Espadarte, the first Portuguese submarine delivered to the Navy, on April 15, 1913

    She was very active, if nothing else providing an OPFOR for the fleet. 

    ASW training between destroyer NRP Guadiana and submarine NRP Espadarte Portugal 1915

    To replace their well-worn little Italian boat and expand their force, Portugal ordered a pair of modified Squalo class boats from C.R.D.A in Trieste in 1931. However, Mussolini ordered them seized on the ways in 1935 and pressed into service as the Glauco class off Spain, where the Italian “pirate submarine” fleet was very active.

    To replace the undelivered Italian boats, Portugal turned to Vickers in Britain for a pair of 227-foot/1,000 ton boats that could carry a dozen torpedos and have a 5,000nm endurance while carrying a very English 4-inch gun in a streamlined semi-turret forward of the sail. All three– Delfim, Espadarte, and Golfinho were delivered in May 1934 and remained active through WWII.

    The Vickers built Delfim class, as described in the 1946 ed of Jane’s

    Class leader Delfim. Note the “D” on her fairwater as a designator. Logically, Golfinho carried a “G” while Espadarte had an “E”. The forward streamlined QF 4-inch (102 mm) Mk XII deck gun mount was similar to that seen on the RN’s O-class and, on a smaller scale, to the four-gunned experimental HMS X-1 cruiser submarine of the same era. 

    To replace the Vickers boats, Portugal managed to pick up a trio of WWII surplus British 217-foot/990-ton S-class boats in 1948: HMS Spur/NRP Narval (S160), HMS Saga/NRP Náutilo (S161), and HMS Spearhead/NRP Neptuno (S162).

    These remained in service into the late 1960s.

    British RN S-class submarine HMS Spearhead, as NRP Neptuno (S162) in Portugal service 1950s

    Then, in 1967, Portugal ordered a four-pack of French Daphné type SSKs that entered service as the Albacora-class by the end of the decade.

    While one– NRP Cachalote (S165)— was sold to Pakistan after the Carnation Revolution and the military fell out of favor, the other three (Albacora S163, Barracuda S164, and Delfim S166) would be retained into the 2000s, replaced by the current German boats.

    NRP Barracuda was NATO’s oldest active submarine when she was decommissioned in 2010. Laid down by the Dubigeon Shipyards of France in 1967, she is preserved as a museum ship in Portugal.

    Mosquitos!

    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.

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