Category Archives: military history

Do you own a Garand? Is the SN 283898? You Could be All Shook Up

Check out the below from the CMP, and be on the lookout should you come across random M1s on your travels.

‘Ole Miss’ at 45

The third of 11 planned Virginia class nuclear-powered, guided-missile cruisers was ordered from Newport News on 21 January 1972 under the Nixon administration, laid down 22 February 1975, launched as the fourth USS Mississippi (CGN-40) on 31 July 1976, and commissioned 5 August 1978– 45 years ago today.

USS Mississippi (CGN-40) underway in the Atlantic, making a 180-degree turn, August 1978. USN 1172975

“Ole Miss” spent much of her career escorting fast nuclear carriers– her class’s main reason for existing– and saw an NTU upgrade, CIWS and Harpoon fitted, and TLAM armored box launchers installed. The latter proved useful during Desert Storm when Mississippi fired three warshot TLAMs at Iraqi strategic and military targets on 25 January 1991 and two more the following day.

Outclassed by VLS Aegis cruisers despite her long and fast legs, she and the rest of the CGNs were axed early from their designed 38 years of service rather than undergo refueling and conversion to Aegis.

After serving just 18 years in commission, Ole Miss was deactivated on 6 September 1996.

By 1999, all nine of the Navy’s CGNs (four Virginia class, two California class, and the one-offs Bainbridge, Truxtun, and Long Beach) had been retired.  

An aerial bow view of six nuclear-powered guided missile cruisers underway in formation during Exercise READEX 1-81. The ships are, from left to right: USS TEXAS (CGN 39), USS CALIFORNIA (CGN 36), USS SOUTH CAROLINA (CGN 37), USS VIRGINIA (CGN 38), USS ARKANSAS (CGN 41) and USS MISSISSIPPI (CGN 40), background NARA # 6418325 Photo 26 Feb 1981

On her way to retirement, Mississippi stopped by Naval Station Pascagoula on Singing River Island in her namesake state for one final time in February 1996.

I visited her then, with my handy little Kodak in my pocket, and grabbed some snaps.

USS Mississippi (CGN-40) at Naval Station Pascagoula, Feb 1996. Note Ingalls West Bank in the background and an NRF FFG-7 short hull on her alongside. Photo by Chris Eger

USS Mississippi (CGN-40) at Naval Station Pascagoula, Feb 1996. She had her glad rags flying. Also, note the big AN/SPS-48 3D radar array whose antenna weighed 4,500 pounds (but had a 200nm range!) Photo by Chris Eger

USS Mississippi (CGN-40) at Naval Station Pascagoula, Feb 1996. How about those giant MK26 GMLS twin launchers? Mississippi was a “double-ended” cruiser, carrying a set of these bad boys both fore and aft, with 26 missiles forward and 44 in the aft magazine, a mix of ASROC and Standard SM-2MR. Photo by Chris Eger

USS Mississippi (CGN-40) at Naval Station Pascagoula, Feb 1996. Note the big blue ASROC drill missile and three more Perry class NRF frigates (FFG-20, FFG-24, FFG-32). With the Mark 26, two missiles could be on the rails and it could sustain a 9-second firing rate with a one-second salvo delay. Photo by Chris Eger

On the other side of the stern MK26, an SM-2MR GMTR (Guided Missile Training Round) drill missile. Photo by Chris Eger

Recycled, in 2003 Ole Miss’s main mast was installed at the Vietnam Veteran’s Memorial in Ocean Springs, Mississippi, and remains on guard today.

Had she been refueled and refitted in 1996-99 as planned, she would have only retired in 2018.

CGN-40’s mainmast at Ocean Springs. Photo by Chris Eger

Cruising around Italy with the wind on your face

80 years ago today: Despatch rider Private Harry McDowell, B/73826, of the 48th Highlanders (Canada) delivering a message to the battalion’s advanced headquarters, Regalbuto, Italy, 4 August 1943.

(Library and Archives Canada Photo, MIKAN No. 3225482)

His bike looks to be a classic British Norton 16H (WD16H), some 490cc in power, while the piece is an American M1 Thompson submachine gun in .45 ACP. Note what appears to be a piece of cork or canvas in the barrel of his M1, a good idea to keep out dust on the road.

Another great image was snapped of McDowell at Caltagirone the day before while off his bike, mugging for the camera whilst wearing a straw hat to beat the summer heat.

Private Harry McDowell, 48th Highlanders of Canada, Caltagirone, Italy, ca. 2-3 August 1943. Note what appears to be a piece of cork in the barrel of his M1, a good idea to keep out dust on the road. Library and Archives Canada. On behalf of the 48th Highlanders Museum, 73 Simcoe St. Toronto, ON M5J 1W9

The son of Henry McDowell, and of Martha McDowell, of Toronto, then L/Cpl Harry McDowell was killed on 11 December 1944 and is interred at the Ravenna War Cemetery near the village of Piangipane, plot V. G. 25. He died at age 27. 

The 48th Battalion Highlanders were formed on 16 October 1891 in Toronto and redesignated a full regiment in 1900.

Print shows the 48th Highlanders on parade, and was published by the Toronto Globe newspaper on Christmas 1899. CWM

They sent volunteers to fight the Boers with the RCR then marched off to the Great War in three different elements (15th Bn, 92nd Bn, 134th Bn) of the CEF– earning 23 battle honors– before mobilizing for war again in 1939.

The 48th missed out on the Battle of France and then garrisoned Britain until they landed in Sicily on 10 July 1943 as part of the 1st Infantry Brigade, 1st Canadian Infantry Division. By March 1945, the regiment moved with the remainder of the I Canadian Corps to North-West Europe, where it fought until the end of the war. They picked up another 27 WWII battle honors and more recently added “Afghanistan” to that impressive list.

These days, the 48th in a light infantry battalion in the Primary Reserve, assigned to the 32 Canadian Brigade Group, 4th Canadian Division.

So long, Forceful

The 121-foot coal-fired steam tug Forceful (288 tons) was built in Govan, Scotland in 1925 for the Queensland Tug Company and spent most of her working life working out of Brisbane.

She also had important WWII service as HMAS Forceful (W126), based at Fremantle and Darwin, surviving several Japanese air attacks at the latter, and rescuing the crew of a ditched American B-26. Besides towing lighters to Marauke in Dutch New Guinea, she also carried out secret missions in support of Z special mission types.

Retired from active use in 1970, she was donated to Brisbane’s Queensland Maritime Museum – one of Australia’s largest maritime museums– who used her in short sightseeing trips until 2006 when she was pulled from the water.

The QMM houses the River-class frigate HMAS Diamantina (K377) safely ashore in the South Brisbane Dry Dock, the historic Commonwealth Lightship 2 (CLS2) Carpentaria, the 116-year-old pearling lugger Penguin which was used by the Americans during WWII, along with the dinghy from General Douglas MacArthur’s motor yacht Shangri-La.

However, nothing lasts forever, and in a museum, especially a maritime museum, there is never enough money

From Capt. Sir Kasper Kuiper R.O.N, Chair, Queensland Maritime Museum Association:

After 30 months of desperately seeking a safe and final resting place for the Forceful, we have been unsuccessful in locating a suitable place for her.

The Chair and Board of Directors came to the realization that the QMMA is not able to keep the ship where she is. In the coming weeks, the Forceful will begin to be deconstructed. We are looking at retaining some artifacts of her to create a fitting tribute for her.

It is very sad that this is the final outcome, but there is no alternative.

I thank you for all the support you have shown for the Forceful.

The post brought dozens of disgruntled comments, but no offers of a solution, with the QMMA replying:

If you have a place for Forceful to go please call Chair Kasper on 38445361. Thanks

Beware Japanese destroyer bows if you are in a plywood boat…

I’m on the road this week and don’t have time to do a proper Warship Wednesday but I would be remiss if I missed the 80th anniversary of the loss of an Elco-built 80-foot motor torpedo boat, lost when she was split in two by the Japanese destroyer Amagiri (LCDR Kohei Hanami)— whose name means “mists in the heavens”– in the predawn darkness of 2 August 1943 east of Gizo Island in the Blackett Strait, on the southern side of Kolombangara Island.

The loss of PT-109, 2 Aug 1943, to the Japanese destroyer Amagiri, as portrayed by Gerard Richardson, courtesy of the JFK Library

The skipper of the lost PT boat was one Lieutenant John F. Kennedy, USNR, later president

USS PT-109, 1943. Lieutenant John F. Kennedy, USNR, (standing, far right with the survival knife) with other crewmen onboard USS PT-109 at a South Pacific Naval Base, 1943 U.S. Information Agency Photograph, now in the collections of the National Archives. Accession #: 306-ST-649-9

PT-109 was lost. Two sailors, TM2 Andrew Kirksey, and MoMM2 Harold Marney, were never seen and presumed killed in the collision with Amagiri. The Japanese tin can was later sunk by a mine in the Makassar Strait in April 1944.

Meanwhile, the young Kennedy, after an epic survival story that involved natives, coconuts, and coastwatchers, along with the rest of his crew, were all eventually rescued and returned to service.

If you hold your ear close, you can almost hear a gearshift…

In my travels around New Orleans, I tend to come across old French Foreign Legion insignia in antique and curious goods shops. My guess is that francophiles and Cajuns in the area often at one point would sign up for life in the old Legion then return home at the end of the contract and, holding their old insignia as souvenirs of places long gone, they would eventually ebb away from them when they passed on to the great barracks in the sky. Echoes of history, I suppose.

This one is appropriate today.

It belongs to the 2nd Foreign Legion Transportation Company, 519th Transportation Group (2e Compagnie de Transport de la Legion Etrangere du Groupe de Transport No 519) which only existed from June 1949 to 31 July 1953– disbanding 70 years ago today.

Rushed into battle, it had been created from 120 members of the 1er REI based at Sidi Bel Abbes following a crash course (no pun intended) in truck driving.

After forming in Algeria, CTLE 2/519 spent its life in Indochina. While there, it was largely based in the Cholon district of Saigon, and ran troops, ammunition, food, mail, and vehicles throughout Cochinchine, working primarily with the famed 13e DBLE and the Legion’s 1er REC.

Collecting Foreign Legion Badges tell us that CTLE 2/519’s badge was approved on 20 April 1950, and that “many variants of the badge exist, the normal version of the badge is made by Drago, Paris.”

Hold your horses

In 1919, the peacetime British Army was authorized to retain three regiments of household guards cavalry and 28 regiments of line Dragoons, Hussars, and Lancers– all horse-mounted, including three full brigades based in the home islands and others stationed around the Empire. This didn’t even include 14 volunteer part-time mounted Yeomanry regiments in the Territorials, or units in the British Indian Army.

This would soon change dramatically.

Most British regular cavalry regiments were mechanized between 1928 and the outbreak of World War II, with younger men and officers moving on to the new type of service and older ones, well, not.

This sunsetting led to Brig. Gen H. Clifton-Brown, Tory MP for Newbury and the former commander of the 12th Lancers, lamenting in March 1935, “I am sorry that we cannot go on clinging to the horse, but I hope we shall cling to him as long as we can.”

The last British line cavalry to hand over their horses was the 2nd Dragoons (The Royal Scots Greys), who were seen as a sort of household Scottish cavalry regiment and treasured their nationally renowned grey mounts, famous for their role at Waterloo.

While the more or less “English” household cavalry was allowed to keep at least some of their horses, a lobbying campaign by Scottish Members of Parliament, bowing to public opinion against the War Office’s plans, kept the Greys mounted into May 1941, only then moving to American-made Grant medium tanks.

By this time, even the household regiments had moved over, keeping just a few horses for the Guards’ ceremonial duties.

Riders in the “Farewell Grey Horse Race” in Ramle, Palestine, 1941, where the Greys were based at the time.

Ironically, the last British mounted force to unsaddle was a territorial yeomanry unit, the Queen’s Own Yorkshire Dragoons, which were converted to an armored role on 1 March 1942. 

While the BEF lost 28,314 War Department vehicles and another 20,588 impressed civilian vehicles at Dunkirk, they had no horseflesh to leave in France.

Well, enter the world of stranger things, where everything old is seemingly new again, from NATO Battle Group Poland, –a U.S.-led battle group, in partnership with Great Britain, Romania, and Croatia– comes these images of the British Army’s Royal Lancers on Op CABRIT, conducting a “low profile mounted recce” with elements of the Polish 2nd Lubelska Brigade.

PBY Catalina making a comback?

The Consolidated PBY-5 Catalina first flew in 1935 and, in a short decade, over 3,300 were built at four factories in the U.S., Canada, and the Soviet Union.

Onto the Ramp PBY seaplane Catalina Joseph Hirsch. Lot 3124-3: Paintings of Naval Aviation during World War II: Abbott Collection. #47.

The big flying boat was a classic of naval air power and provided the backbone of maritime search and rescue, reconnaissance, commando/stay behind support, and anti-shipping/ASW missions for the Allies in WWII, with the type only fully retired in military service (by the Brazilians) in 1982.

Not a bad run.

Well, a Florida-based Catalina Aircraft has been supporting civil PBY-5 fleets for the past two decades and just unveiled a new Next Generation Amphibious Catalina II variant of the classic flying boat at the AirVenture Oshkosh air show in Wisconsin this week.

They plan both a civilian variant with a maximum take-off weight (MTOW) of 32,000 pounds and a capacity for 34 passengers or six tons of cargo. The military version will have an expanded MTOW of 40,000 pounds. Deliveries are planned to begin in 2029.

Katum Leprechaun

With yesterday’s AH-1G Cobra gunship references in relation to the Spanish Navy’s carrier Delado (ex-USS Cabot), after all, the Spanish were the only country outside of the U.S. that operated the variant, this seemed appropriate.

Original Caption, circa May 1970: “Katum, South Vietnam…Side view of a U.S. Army AH-1G helicopter gunship landing for refueling during the Cambodian offensive. The helicopter is nicknamed “Leprechaun.”

Photographer: Staff Sgt. Harry G. Giffen Jr.. NARA NAID: 176246898. Local ID: 342-C-KE-40435

Note the 1st Cav “Hell for Leather” flash on Leprechaun’s tail and the Hughes OH-6A Cayuse “Loach” just beyond it. What looks to be the hub and rear wheels of a Sikorsky CH-54 Tarhe seems to be beyond that.

Over 800 G model Cobras flew in Vietnam, with 303 lost while chalking up over 1.3 million hours in theatre.

As most of the survivors were either scrapped or reworked into AH-1S birds, the classic Cobra Golf is a rare thing these days.

Two of them are preserved in the collection of the U.S. Army Aviation Museum, which I recently visited and highly recommend.

Warship Wednesday, July 26, 2023: The Iron Woman

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, July 26, 2023: The Iron Woman

USN photo by LCDR John Leenhouts. DN-SC-88-08301. National Archives Identifier 6430231

Above we see an air-to-air front view of a Spanish AV-8S Matador (Harrier) in flight over the Spanish aircraft carrier Dedalo (R01), below, in the Mediterranean Sea in the summer of 1988. If you think Dedalo looks much like a WWII light carrier, your hunch is correct, and she entered service under a different name and flag some 80 years ago this week.

“30/30” Ships

In 1942, the Navy had its ass in a bind.

Starting the war with just six large-deck fleet carriers, within the first six months of combat was down to just four, and by the end of the year; just a single one of these (Enterprise) was still afloat and operational.

While the first huge and ultra-modern 34,000-ton Essex-class carriers were building as fast as the riveters could rivet and the welders could chip slag, they would not be able to arrive in numbers until 1944. This put the Big Blue behind the Japanese 8-ball in naval warfare.

FDR, himself always a Navy man (he won a naval warfare essay contest while a teenager and slept with Mahan’s The Influence of Sea Power upon History on his nightstand before being appointed Asst. Scty of the Navy during World War One), came up with the idea to convert a bunch of cruisers that were already partially complete at the New York Navy Yard over to flat-tops. Although the Navy balked, FDR was the commander and chief, so guess who won?

USS Cleveland CL-55 1942. The Navy wanted between 40-50 of these hardy little cruisers. They settled for much less, and nine of those became aircraft carriers while still under construction

USS Cleveland CL-55 1942. The Navy wanted between 40-50 of these hardy little cruisers. They settled for much less, and nine of those became aircraft carriers while still under construction

The 14,000-ton Cleveland class light cruisers were designed after the gloves came off in 1940 and the U.S. no longer had to abide by the Washington and London Naval treaties of the 1920s and 30s. As such, these were very large cruisers, at just a hair over 600 feet long, and very fast (33 knots). Designed to carry a dozen 6-inch and a supplemental dozen 5-inch guns, they were also heavily armed.

In all the Navy wanted something on the order of 40 of these cruisers to lead destroyer groups, escort convoys, scout ahead of battle groups, and screen carriers and battleships. Well, FDR carved nine whose hulls were nearing completion but did not have decks, guns, or superstructures installed yet.

A scale model of the Independence-class light carriers and the Cleveland-class light cruiser. Note the hulls.

A scale model of the Independence-class light carriers and the Cleveland-class light cruiser. Note the hulls.

It was not that hard of a concept. Many of the first carriers were auxiliaries, cruisers, and battleships that had their topside removed and covered with a flat top. Langley, the first U.S. carrier, was a collier. Lexington and Saratoga, the country’s second and third carriers respectively, were originally laid down as battlecruisers.

The first of the class of FDR’s “cruiser carriers,” laid down originally as the cruiser Amsterdam but commissioned instead as the USS Independence, was commissioned on 14 January 1943 and rushed to the fleet. Over the next nine months, eight sisters would join her, roughly one every 45 days on average. They were all constructed in the same yard to keep the program streamlined.

A “30/30” ship, they could make 30+ knots and carry 30+ aircraft while having legs long enough to cross the Pacific and operate on their own for a few weeks before she needed to find an oiler. While they were still much smaller than a regular fleet carrier such as the Enterprise that could carry 80-90 aircraft, they could still put a few squadrons in the air and fill lots of needs.

Simultaneously, they were much faster than the similarly sized quartet of converted oilers that had already been rushed into service and could keep up with a fast-moving battle force. Initially classified as normal fleet carriers (CV), all were re-designated “small aircraft carriers” (CVL) on 15 July 1943.

From U.S. Navy manual FM 30-50: Recognition Pictorial Manual of Naval Vessels, showing U.S. ship silhouettes showing the relative size of the various classes of aircraft carriers, battleships, cruisers, and destroyers. Note the big difference between the size of the large fleet carrier classes (top center), the assorted escort carriers (center to bottom) and the Independence class CVLs, which are right in the middle

Side-by-side comparisons show the principal fleet carriers of the Pacific War compared to an Independence-class CVL. Outside left are the prewar USS Saratoga (CV-3) and USS Enterprise (CV-6), moored near the short-hulled Essex-class USS Hornet (CV-12). Beyond the Hornet is moored the Independence-class USS San Jacinto (CVL-30). U.S. Navy photo 80-G-701512

Worth, in his Fleets of World War II, described the Indys as such:

These were not attractive ships. They had no deck edge elevator, just one catapult, and a small air group (usually 33 planes). Though meant to carry one or two 5-inch DP guns, they never received them. The armor layout provided modest protection, though the first two ships scrambled into service so hurriedly they never got their side armor. In spite of all of this, the design was a success. Not a war winner, it augmented the fleet’s main strength, having sufficient size and speed to bring modern aircraft into battle.

Meet Cabot

The name “Cabot,” after the English-employed Venetian explorer John Cabot (Giovanni Caboto), was one of the oldest in the Navy.

As far back as 5 January 1776, the first Continental Navy squadron under Commodore Esek Hopkins was ordered to sea by Congress to seek the British off coasts of the Carolinas and Rhode Island and in the Chesapeake Bay. The ships under Hopkins’s flag were Alfred, Columbus, Andrea Doria, Cabot, Providence, Hornet, Wasp, and Fly. Sadly, Cabot was also the first Continental naval ship captured by the British, which may be why the Navy waited until 1943 to reissue it.

The second Cabot was laid down as light cruiser USS Wilmington (CL-79) on 16 March 1942, by New York Shipbuilding Co. in Camden, then was reclassified to an aircraft carrier (CV-28) and renamed Cabot during her conversion.

USS Cabot (CV 28), launching at Camden, New Jersey. Photographed April 4, 1943. 80-G-41832

Launched on 4 April 1943, she was reclassified as a small aircraft carrier (CVL-28) just before her commissioning on 24 July 1943 —some 80 years ago this week.

Her first airwing was Carrier Air Group 31, made up of the “Flying Meataxers” of Fighter Squadron 31 (VF-31) and Torpedo Squadron 31 (VT-31), which came aboard in November 1943. CAG 31 would remain on Cabot until 4 October 1944, when CAG 29 (VF-29 and VT-29), late of the USS Santee, came aboard. In general, these CAGs would ship out with 9 TBM/TBF Avengers and 24 F6F-3/5 Hellcats, for a total of 33 aircraft.

They were good at their job.

VF-31 would end up with the highest kill ratio per pilot of any squadron in the US Navy, credited with 165.6 Japanese airplanes destroyed in aerial combat.

For a much deeper dive into her war record, please refer to the extensive 120-page War History completed in late 1945 and available in the National Archives.

We’ll get into the high points below.

Shipping out for the Pacific on 15 January 1944, she joined Task Force 58 and got into the fight for real.

USS Cabot, CVL-28 off Philadelphia Naval Shipyard. 27 AUG 43

Task Force 58 raids in the Carolines, July 1944. RADM J.J. Clark’s task group 58.1 reverses course during attacks on Yap, 28 July 1944. USS HORNET (CV-12) is in the center, with USS CABOT (CVL-28) in the left middle distance and USS YORKTOWN (CV-10) on the right. Six F6F fighters are overhead. Photographed with a K-17 camera from a HORNET plane. 80-G-367247

Crossing the line ceremony on USS Cabot, CVL-28

U.S. Marines drilling on the flight deck of USS Cabot (CVL 28). Photographed by the crew of USS Cabot, July 3, 1944. 80-G-263276

Hitting Truk, the Marshalls, raids on the Palaus, Yap, Ulithi, and Woleai; the Hollandia landings, the famous “Marianas Turkey Shoot,” the liberation of the Philippines, raiding Formosa, Indochina, Hong Kong, Kyushu, and Okinawa, Cabot and her airwing were hard at work.

Just look at this fighting chart chronicling her actions off Formosa, 13-18 October 1944.

Divine Wind

The class would take quite a beating from Japanese aircraft. Sister USS Princeton (CV/CVL-23) was destroyed following a bomb hit during the Battle of Leyte Gulf that sparked fires that got out of hand. Likewise, both sisters USS Belleau Wood (CV/CVL-24) and USS Independence (CV/CVL-22) endured significant damage but pulled through.

Cabot had her own turn in the barrel on 25 November 1944, two days after Thanksgiving.

USS Cabot (CVL-28) is hit by a Kamikaze while operating with Task Force 38 off Luzon, 25 November 1944. Official U.S. Navy Photograph, 80-G-289608

As detailed by DANFS

Cabot had fought off several kamikazes when one, already flaming from hits, crashed the flight deck on the port side, destroying the still-firing 20-millimeter gun platform, disabling the 40-millimeter mounts and a gun director. Another of Cabot’s victims crashed close aboard and showered the port side with fragments and burning debris. Cabot lost 62 men killed and wounded, but careful training had produced a crew that handled damage control smoothly and coolly. While she continued to maintain her station in formation and operate effectively, temporary repairs were made.

Damage to the catapult room of USS Cabot (CVL 28) caused by a crash dive by a Japanese plane. The hole through to the catapult room. The area formerly contained a generator station and crew shelters. 80-G-270879

From her war history:

Back in the fight

Patched up, Cabot returned to action on 11 December 1944, steaming with the force in support of the Luzon operations.

Ernie Pyle shipped out on the Cabot for three weeks and filed reports from her decks on the push to Tokyo.

Pyle, right, on the bridge of Cabot with the skipper –CAPT (later RADM) Walton Wiley Smith (USNA 1920)–during strikes in the North Pacific against Tokyo, February 1945. 80-G-262854-001

The only aircraft carrier he ever visited, Pyle publicized the nickname of the “Iron Woman.”

One of his reports from Cabot:

In the Western Pacific–An aircraft carrier is a noble thing. It lacks almost everything that seems to denote nobility, yet deep nobility is there….It doesn’t cut through the water like a destroyer. It just plows…

Yet a carrier is a ferocious thing, and out of its heritage of action has grown nobility. I believe that today every navy in the world has its No. 1 priority, the destruction of enemy carriers.

That’s a precarious honor, but it’s a proud one.

My Carrier is a proud one. She’s small, and you have never heard of her unless you have a son or husband on her, but still she’s proud, and deservedly so.

She has been at sea, without returning home, longer than any other carrier in the Pacific, with one exception. She left home in November of 1943.

She is a little thing, yet her planes have shot down 228 of the enemy out of the sky in air battles, and her guns have knocked down five Japanese planes in defending herself.

She is too proud to keep track of the little ships she destroys, but she has sent to the bottom 29 big Japanese ships.

She has weathered five typhoons. Her men have not set foot on any soil bigger than a farm-sized uninhabited atoll for a solid year.

They have not seen a woman for nearly ten months. In a year and a quarter out of America, she has steamed a total of 149,000 miles!

Four different air squadrons have used her as their flying field, flown their allotted missions, and returned to America. But the ship’s crew stays on– and on and on.

She is known in the fleet as “The Iron Woman”, because she has fought in every battle in the Pacific in the years 1944 and 1945.

Her battle record sounds like a train caller on the Lackawanna railroad. Listen— Kwajalein, Eniwetok, Truk, Palau, Hollandia, Saipan, Chichi Jima, Mindanao, Luzon, Formosa, Nansei Shoto, Hong Kong, Iwo Jima, Tokyo…and many others.

She has known disaster. Her fliers who have perished cannot be counted on both hands..She has been hit twice by Kamikaze bombs. She has had mass burial at sea..with dry-eyed crew sewing forty-millimeter shells to the corpses of their friends as weights to take them to the bottom of the sea.

Yet she has never even returned to Pearl Harbor to patch her wounds. She slaps on some patches on the run and is ready for the next battle.

My Carrier, even though classed as “light”, is still a very large ship. More than 1,000 men dwell upon her. She is more than 700 feet long…

She has been out so long that her men put their ship above their captain. They have seen captains come and go, but they and the ship stay on forever.

They aren’t romantic about their long stay out here. They hate it, and their gripes are long and loud. They yearn pathetically to go home. But down beneath, they are proud— proud of their ship and proud of themselves.

And you would be too.

Pyle left Cabot at the end of February 1945 and just six weeks later was killed on Ie Shima with the Marines when a bullet from a Japanese machine gun hit him in the left temple below the rim of his helmet.

Cabot would remain on the line until April 1945, when she was sent to Mare Island for a much-needed overhaul.

But before she left, her air group was able to get in some licks on the ill-fated Japanese super battleship Yamato.

USS Cabot (CVL-28) flies a long Homeward Bound pennant as she departs the Western Pacific for overhaul in San Francisco, California, on 13 April 1945. She had been operating in the combat zone since January 1944. The view looks aft from the ship’s island, with her SK-1 radar antenna at the left and other shipping in the distance. Aircraft on Cabot’s deck include (from right front): OS2U, SOC, TBM, SB2C, F4U, and F6F types. NH 96958

Sailing back to the front lines, her last combat missions were flown against Japanese-occupied Wake Island on 1 August while en route to Eniwetok.

USS Cabot (CVL-28) Underway at sea, 26 July 1945. Official U.S. Navy Photograph, now in the collections of the National Archives. 80-G-262768

She then joined Task Group 38.3 to support the landings of occupation troops in the Yellow Sea area in September and October.

Embarking homeward-bound men at Guam, Cabot arrived at San Diego on 9 November, then sailed for the East Coast.

Cabot earned a Presidential Unit Citation and nine battle stars for service during WWII.

Her end of the war tally sheet, via her War History.

USS Cabot (CVL-28) close-up view of the ship’s port side bridge wing, showing her insignia, circa 1943-44. The design is based on the slogan of Cabot’s first Commanding Officer, Captain Malcolm F. Schoeffel: Up Mohawks, At ‘Em!. Mohawk was the ship’s voice radio call sign at the time. 80-G-263253

Cabot was placed out of commission in reserve at Philadelphia, Pa., on 11 February 1947.

Korean War Service

Independence class light carriers, Janes 1946

Recommissioned on 27 October 1948 after spending just 20 months in mothballs, Cabot was assigned to the nascent Naval Air Reserve training program. Operating first out of Pensacola, then NAS Quonset Point, she would embark NAR squadrons on summer cruises to the Caribbean and make herself available to the training command for carrier deck quals.

SNJ-5B Bu51927, coming to grief on the USS Cabot (CVL-28) sometime before late 1951

It was around this time that Cabot was given a series of quiet upgrades and strengthened flight deck supports that made her both suitable for helicopters and for the weight of larger aircraft such as the F8F Bearcat. The electronics fit was also updated.

Assistant Sec. of the Navy for Aviation, John F. Floberg, does a solo pass USS Cabot CVL-28 on April 18, 1952, in an SNJ Texan. Floberg would get his carrier quals. The cover is the June 1952 edition of Navy Aviation News

F8F-2 Bearcat Naval Air Training Command carrier qual on USS Cabot CVL 28 June 20, 1952

USMC H-19 Chickasaw on an elevator aboard the refit USS Cabot 1952

One of the young budding Naval Aviators she would qual would be the first man on the moon. Before transitioning to the F-9F Panther jet, which he would fly with VF-51 for 78 combat missions over Korea, Neil Armstrong, flying an F8F Bearcat, would make his first six carrier traps on Cabot in March 1950. By August, he had aced his carrier quals.

Armstrong, shown left on Cabot after his first trap. note the 40mm Bofors behind him.

Cabot even made an operational deployment of sorts, embarking COMCARDIV 14 in January 1952, loading a squadron of short-lived AF-2S/AF-2W Grumman Guardians from the “Duty Cats” of VS-24, adding a det of HUP-1 helicopters from the “Fleet Angels” of HU-2 for liaison work and plane guard roles, then setting out for a Med cruise. 

USS Cabot (CVL-28) underway, circa 1951–1952, with what appear to be two AF-2 Guardians from Antisubmarine Squadron (VS) 24 “Duty Cats.” NARA image.

same as above

same as above

She returned stateside on 26 March 1952 and went back into the training pipeline for a few more years. 

Newly-delivered PA-tail coded T-28B Trojan and T-34 Mentor over Pensacola NAS, note the CVL training carrier below, likely USS Monterey but possibly Cabot or USS Saipan– the latter one of two light carriers built on a Brooklyn-class heavy cruiser hull. The photo is likely from 1955-56. 

Cabot was again placed out of commission, in reserve, on 21 January 1955, and was later reclassified to an auxiliary aircraft transport (AVT-3) while mothballed.

Her career in the U.S. Navy had concluded.

A new flag

The Navy had previously transferred two of the remaining eight Indys to France in the 1950s– USS Langley (CVL-27) and USS Belleau Wood (CVL-24), which became La Fayette and Bois Belleau, respectively.

Meanwhile, the Spanish Navy had been chasing the dream of an aircraft carrier, going back to their seaplane tender and balloon carrier, Deadalo, which was active from 1921 through 1934, even getting in some carrier air raids during the Rif War.

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. Five Lepanto-class destroyers– WWII Fletcher-class tin cans– starting with USS Capps (DD-550) in 1957, were transferred. These were soon joined by five more FRAM I Gearing class destroyers, starting with USS Eugene A. Greene (DD/DDR-711) in 1972, as the Churruca class. By this time, the Spanish were also getting five new-made Baleares-class frigates, variants of the Knox class destroyer escort/fast frigates updated with Standard SAM suites.

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

Looking for a helicopter carrier/amphibious assault ship and being rebuffed when they wanted the converted escort carrier USS Thetis Bay (LPH-6), and after taking a look at the laid-up USS San Jacinto (CVL-30) and passing, the Spanish went with Cabot as she had embarked and supported helicopters in the 1950s and had a better sensor and radio fit than just about any other mothballed flattop on the menu.

Cabot was loaned to the Spanish Navy on 30 August 1967, which renamed her Dédalo (R.01). She was then stricken from the Naval Vessel Register on 1 August 1972, and sold to the Spaniards.

In Spanish operations, she would embark 16-24 helicopters in 4-packs starting with H-13 Sioux, H-19 Chickasaws, and Agusta-Bell 204s, then evolving to SH-3 Sea Kings, torpedo-carrying Hughes 500ASW variants, Agusta-Bell AB.212s, and AH-1 Cobras.

Ever thought you’d see a blue Cobra gunship on a WWII light carrier?

Look at how cute the Hughes 500ASWs are!

Spanish Marina ordered eight AH-1G Cobras and flew them in blue livery from Delado. They were the only country besides the US to operate the model

Dédalo, far right, and hospital ship Esperanza del Mar– the ex-4,000-ton WWII coastal minelayer USS Monadnock (ACM-10)– with one of the carrier’s SH-3D Sea King hanging out on her helideck– a tight fit!. Also, note the stacks of a Descubierta-class corvette to the left

Spanish Arma Aérea de la Armada SH-3D Sea King of Quinta Escuadrilla on Dédalo/Cabot with AS-12 missiles and a torpedo rigged for carry

Entry in Janes, 1973

By 1972, Spain bought eight British-built Harriers. Designated VA.1 Matadors in Spanish service, they were essentially modified variants of the USMC AV8A/B series and were classified as AV-8S/TAV-8S models.

Spanish Dédalo/Cabot with Harrier and helicopters

By 1976, the jump jets were active on Dedalo, providing both air defense and strike capabilities for the Spanish fleet, ultimately buying 13 of the type.

An aerial port bow view of the Spanish aircraft carrier DEDALO (R01) underway. Note the mix of Matadors, AB-212s, and Sea Kings. DN-SC-88-08303

Check out this amazing footage of Dedalo operating with her Matadors off the Canary Islands in 1978, “Defensa de las Canarias,” which simulated the repulsion of a Soviet amphibious assault on the chain.

However, with Spain’s WWII-era fleet beginning to show its age in the early 1980s, a refresh was soon underway that saw the Guppy boats traded in for a quartet of new French Agosta-class submarines, the Fletchers and Gearings replaced by a half dozen Santa Maria-class frigates (a Spanish version of the Oliver Hazard Perry-class), and a plan to replace Dedalo.

A port beam view of the Spanish amphibious assault ship DEDALO (PA-01), formerly the USS CABOT (AVT-3), in the foreground and the frigate BALEARES (F-71) participating in exercise Ocean Venture ’81.

The planned Almirante Carrero Blanco, built to a modified U.S. Navy Sea Control Ship study, entered service in 1988 as the 16,700-ton Príncipe de Asturias. Equipped with a 12-degree ski jump and powered by GE LM2500 gas turbines that could push the carrier along at 26 knots, the new Spanish carrier would embark and launch the larger and more advanced AV-8B Harrier II, which was produced locally at CASA’s facility in Seville, Spain, as the EAV-8B Matador.

Príncipe de Asturias (R11)

The old Dedalo, unneeded, was headed to the breakers, and her old AV-8As were soon resold to Thailand for use with that country’s building HTMS Chakri Naruebet, which was based on the design of Príncipe de Asturias and constructed in Spain.

On 12 July 1989, Dédalo was decommissioned, capping a 46-year career.

A brief reprise

Rushing in to save the day was a group of WWII U.S. Navy vets and their supporters. At the time that Cabot was retired, she was by far the only member of her class still around. In addition to her nine battle stars and Presidential Unit Citation for WWII, there was also her Korean War service, her connections to Neil Armstrong and Ernie Pyle, and her Cold War journey that made her worthy of preservation.

Ultimately, she was brought to New Orleans triumphantly in August 1989 when she still looked amazing– having only left Spanish naval service the month prior. Within months, she was designated a National Historic Landmark by the National Park Service.

Then, sadly, the successive efforts to preserve her all tanked for one reason or another, typically money-related (or lack thereof), and she sat along one dock or another in the Crescent City for eight years, suffering marine collisions, looting, and neglect.

Being a warship nerd in my 20s at the time, I snuck through a series of fences to get a snapshot of her tied up on a foggy morning near the Mandeville docks.

USS Cabot/Spanish Dédalo, tied up in New Orleans. Photo by Chris Eger

By 1997, with her time all but gone, she was towed to Texas, where she would soon be involved in a confusing series of lawsuits and seizures by the U.S. Marshals for debts owed. Slowly scrapped there over the next several years, she disappeared by August 2001.

As summed up by WWII After WII, who covers her tragedy in detail:

The USS Cabot fiasco was a sad, but in some ways foretelling, end to the boom of WWII warship museums in the United States. From the late 1970s to the early 1990s, these seemed to proliferate – however, with a few exceptions (USS Intrepid in NYC being particularly successful) they were extremely difficult to keep financially sound after opening. To display a P-51 Mustang fighter or M4 Sherman tank ashore doesn’t take a whole lot beyond the purchase cost, but afloat decommissioned ships are “financial zombies” in that even when dead, they require constant money just to stay above the waterline, let alone be profitable, and this only increases as the ship continues to age – the USS Texas saga being a good example. Often visitor admission fees just aren’t enough.

Anger was directed at the original Foundation, who were portrayed in veteran’s circles as idiots, grifters, or both. This is not fair as the original intentions were good; and in fact, much of the early fundraising was done by veterans at a VFW post in Louisiana on their own time. It might be better to say that they had no idea what they were getting into and quickly found themselves in way over their head.

Epilogue

Several echoes of Cabot endure.

There is, of course, the USS Cabot Association.

The National Museum of the Pacific War has a plaque honoring her as well as CAG 29 and 31.

The National Archives has her plans, diaries, and logs on file.

At the National Naval Aviation Museum, the center floor display includes a replica of the wooden flight deck and island superstructure of Cabot. Assisted by his son, the same sailor who painted the original scoreboard highlighting the combat record of the ship and its embarked air groups duplicated his work for the museum.

(Photo: Chris Eger)

(Photo: Chris Eger)

One of her screws and some of her WWII-vintage Bofors mounts went to USS Lexington, which is preserved in Corpus Christi, just a couple of hours away from where she was scrapped.

Meanwhile, the Spanish Navy’s AH-1G Cobras that flew from Dedalo proved to be a time capsule for the U.S. Army and are now gems in the collection of the Army Aviation Museum in Alabama, as most of their type in U.S. service were either scrapped or converted to updated models.

This toothy G-model Cobra served with the Spanish Navy and was recently returned to the U.S. Note the early 7.62mm minigun and 40mm grenade launcher in the chin. (Photo: Chris Eger)

A few years ago, scale model maker Amo released an AV-8S Matador kit (AMO-8505) that features box art by Valery Petelin that includes Cabot/Dedalo cruising below.

AV-8S Matador AMO box art by Valery Petelin, with Delado/Cabot below

Of Cabot’s sisters, besides USS Princeton (CV/CVL-23), which was lost in 1944, USS Independence was extensively damaged in the Crossroads tests and then, filled with radioactive material, was scuttled off the coast of California in deep water in 1951.

Langly/ La Fayette and Belleau Wood/Bois Belleau, after operating with the French off Indochina and Algeria, were returned to the Navy in the 1960s and scrapped, replaced in French service by the new domestically built Clemenceau-class carrier,s which were twice as large and were built from the keel up to operate jets.

USS Bataan (CVL-29), which added seven Korean War battle stars to the six she earned in WWII, was scrapped in 1961.

USS Bataan (CVL-29) was photographed on 22 May 1953, as she was en route to Naval Air Station San Diego, California, following a deployment to Korean waters. Note crew paraded on the flight deck spelling out the word “HOME” and an arrow pointing over her bow. Aircraft on deck include 19 Grumman AF “Guardian” anti-submarine planes and a solitary Vought F4U “Corsair” fighter (parked amidships on the starboard side. NH 95808

USS Cowpens (CVL-25), laid up after the war, was reclassified as an auxiliary aircraft transport (AVT-1) while in mothballs and was scrapped in 1960.

USS Monterey (CVL-26), on which the future president Gerald Ford served aboard in WWII, served as a training carrier (AVT-2) during the Korean War, then was decommissioned in 1956 and scrapped in early 1971.

USS San Jacinto (CVL-30) would be the last in U.S. Navy possession, sold to the breakers in December 1971 after sitting on red lead row for 24 long and unkind years.

The Indys earned a total of 81 WWII battle stars, and it is a crying shame that none remain.


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!

« Older Entries Recent Entries »