Category Archives: military history

Coast Guard Mobile Afloat Bases, a historical perspective

Last week’s post about the USCGC Waesche (WMSL 751) serving as a Forward Afloat Staging Base off Alaska during NORTHCOM’s Exercise Arctic Edge 2025 reminded me of the service’s long-standing tradition of such operations.

It actually predates the Coast Guard itself.

City Point (1895-1913)

Due to the shifting waters near the falls of the Ohio River, the Louisville Lifeboat Station (Lifesaving Station No. 10), put into service in 1881, was afloat.

The Louisville Lifeboat Station

Successful, its 1902 replacement was of the same pattern as was its 1929 steel-hulled successor, and remained in USCG service in 1972. Today, it is preserved as the only surviving floating lifesaving station of the United States Life-Saving Service.

This sets the stage for the more blue water City Point Station.

The original USLSS City Point Station, circa 1896-1913, Nathaniel L. Stebbins photographic collection PC047.02.4110.16294

Dialing it back to 1895 (the USCG was formed in 1916), a U.S. Lifesaving Service station was originally described as a “floating station in Dorchester Bay, Boston Harbor,” was authorized as the region had suffered the loss of forty lives on the water, usually in the summer months, from 1890 to 1894. Congressman Michael J. McEttrick introduced a bill in Congress, which was finally passed, and the station was secured, and it was dubbed the “City Point Station.” 

From the USLSS 1895 Annual Report:

And duly installed, as noted from the service’s 1896 report:

The anchored wooden-hulled station, approximately 100 feet long and 33 feet abeam, was home to a 10-man crew and housed a pair of naphtha-powered launches, a dighny, and a heavy surfboat.

Equipped with a generator, they had electric wiring and a large searchlight and signal lights up top.

An innovative feature was an early well deck or “harbor room” in the stern.

As further detailed by The Toomey-Rankin History of South Boston, circa 1901:

An appropriation of $7,000 was made for the construction of the station itself, and in a short time the strange craft was growing under the hands of workmen at Palmer’s shipyard at Noank, Conn., and for 50 days the work progressed, at the end of which time the station was completed, and towed from Noank, Conn., to Boston, and on its arrival Sunday, August 3, 1896, was moored to Loring’s wharf to await fitting out.

It is needless to say that the station, being an innovation, attracted much attention. Visitors saw it as it is today, except for the doors, which were afterward cut on each side of the harbor room. Its form is that of a huge flat iron, the forward end, or bow, coming to a point, while the rear or stern is cut off short. It is 100 feet long,33 feet beam, 6 feet deep, and draws about two feet of water, and is a double-deck affair, the upper deck being about 15 feet above the waterline.

The feature of the station is the harbor at the stern, or what might be called the main entrance to the station. This harbor in which the two naphtha launches of the station are kept, is formed by having an opening 30 feet long and 17 feet wide, cut from the stern directly into the center of the station, leaving on three sides about eight feet of deck room, while the entire harbor is sheltered by the upper deck, which extends to the end of the station.

From the harbor, or launch room, a hallway extends the entire length of the station, off of which are several rooms; on the left is the kitchen, dining room and the crew’s quarters, and on the right the captain’s office, his bed room and the store room, the space at the bow being devoted to the windlass and anchors with which the station is held in position.

Leading from this hallway on the right is a small flight of stairs to the upper deck, and in addition to this are the two other flights, leading from the harbor room, one on the port and one on the starboard side. The upper deck is completely clear with the exception of a lookout, which sets about 30 feet from the bow in the center of the deck, with a flight of steps leading to it. It is surrounded by a railing and is connected with the launch room and the captain’s room by speaking tubes.

Rising from the deck is a flagpole, upon which the national emblem is displayed during the day and a lantern at night. At the stern, on huge davits, hangs the heavy surf boat, in a position to be lowered at an instant’s notice. Davits on the port and starboard sides hold smaller boats. In the harbor are the launches, one of which is 28 feet, with a speed of ten knots, and the other 25 feet in length, with a speed of eight knots.

Towed into position each April/May and then towed back to its winter berth near Chelsea Bridge in October/November, the station was manned by the same crew for the duration of the summer with no relief. The 10 men consisted of a station captain and nine surfmen (one of whom was also paid as a cook), with three of the latter on duty round the clock.

Completed too late to get much practical use in 1896, its first full season deployed was in 1897, where its crew helped 115 small craft in distress and rescued 23 persons, who were taken back to the station for care.

1898 saw 19 persons rescued, 129 persons rendered assistance, and 58 boats saved.

The year 1899 set a new record of 33 persons saved and 183 assisted while coming to the rescue of 97 boats, the latter valued at $63,285, or nine times the initial outlay to build the station.

From a period Roland Libbey article on City Point in the Boston Globe

From a period Roland Libbey article on City Point in the Boston Globe

City Point had its naphtha-powered launches replaced by steam launches in 1900 and was extensively rebuilt in 1913 “to replace a structure that is old and unsuited to present-day needs.”

She would be joined by other bases in the 1920s.

A half dozen floating bases during Prohibition

Speaking of which…

In 1924, with the “Rum War” afoot and the now USCG with a serious need to push assets further offshore to intercept bootleggers speeding out to usually British or Canadian-flagged “blacks” (so named as they ran at night sans flags or lights) anchored just off the three-mile limit on “Rum Row,” the service acquired five new floating bases– Argus, Colfax, Moccasin, Pickering, and Wayanda.

Four of these new bases (Argus, Colfax, Pickering, and Wayanda) were concrete boats originally commissioned for the Army Quartermaster Service for troop and supply transport between Army bases along the coast. The Army had built 16 such flat-bottomed vessels, powered by twin gasoline (!) engines, then quickly disposed of them.

The Army QM Corps concrete riverboats, Colonel J. E. Sawyer and Major Archibald Butt, at a dock in New Bern, North Carolina, in 1920. 

The other two, the reconstructed City Point and the new Moccasin, had wooden hulls. All but City Point had propulsion plants.

U.S. Coast Guard, City Point station, Boston, by Leslie Jones, Boston Globe

U.S. Coast Guard, City Point station, Boston, circa 1916-1939 by Leslie Jones, Boston Globe

U.S. Coast Guard, City Point station, Boston, by Leslie Jones, Boston Globe

U.S. Coast Guard, City Point station, Boston, by Leslie Jones, Boston Globe

All had extensive cabin structures topside and served as moored motherships for the service’s 36 and 38-foot picket boats, much closer to Rum Row than the coastal bases.

The 38-foot cabin picket boat. USCG Photo

The Boston-based City Point of the era was a wooden-hulled floating platform that was rebuilt in 1913 at Greenport, New York, and was 109′ 6″ by 33′ by 3′ 6″.

Colfax was the former Army QM vessel General Rufus Ingalls and was 150 feet long, 28 feet wide, and 13 feet deep.

Argus was originally the concrete-hulled Army QM vessel Major E. Pickett. Her dimensions were: 128′ 5″ x 28′ x 12′. Commissioned as Argus on 1 December 1924 at Rockaway Inlet, New York, and was moved to New London, Connecticut, in May of 1925, she was the flagship of the Coast Guard Destroyer Force.

Pickering was the former Army QM Brigadier General O. A. Allison, and was a concrete boat built to the same plan as Major E. Pickett/Argus in 1921 for the War Department. After her acquisition by the Coast Guard, she was stationed at Atlantic City, New Jersey, as of October 1924.

Wayanda was the former Army vessel Colonel William H. Baldwin, a 128-foot ‘crete boat like Pickering and Argus. She was purchased on 21 October 1924 from the John W. Sullivan Company in New York.  She was stationed at Greenport, New York, as of 26 November 1924.

Moccasin was the former wooden-hulled Liberator, 102′ 6″ by 47’9″ by 10′, that was built in 1921 at Lybeck, Florida.  She was purchased from Gibbs Gas Engineering Company on August 20, 1924, and commissioned on November 17, 1924. She served in Miami, Florida.

With Prohibition winding down, the Coast Guard started ridding itself of these floating bases by the late 1920s, and only the concrete Baldwin/Wayanda and the wooden-hulled City Point II outlived the Volstead Act.

Wayanda was last listed in Coast Guard records in 1934, while the second City Point only disappeared from the list of USCG stations after the 1939 season.

In the meantime, the cutter Yocana served as a mothership to clusters of picket boats during the 1937 floods on the Mississippi.

A dozen Coast Guard picket boats muster beside the former CGC Yocona on the Mississippi River during the Great Ohio, Mississippi River Valley Flood of 1937. U.S. Coast Guard photo. Yocona was a 182-foot Kankakee-class stern paddle wheelers built for the Coast Guard in 1919 and stationed at Vicksburg. Click to big up

Other examples

Of course, the service’s large blue water cutters have filled the role of offshore mothership several times since then, with its CGRON3 in Vietnam clocking in to feed, bunk, and refuel both USCG 83-foot patrol boats and Navy Brown water assets such as PBRs and PCFs, as well as the sustained offshore surveillance of Grenada in 1983-84 (Operation Island Breeze).

Point class refueling from USCGC Dallas in Vietnam 2

More recent mothership ops have been seen with the long-distance deployment of FRCs to the Persian Gulf in 2022 and in response to 2017’s Hurricane Maria in Puerto Rico.

Cold War Classic HK G3 Resurfaces in German Use

The iconic Heckler & Koch-produced 7.62 NATO caliber Gewehr 3 battle rifle officially left German military service in the 1990s, yet it continues to break cover.

The social media page for the Schleswig-Holstein State Command recently posted images of the G3 DMR, or Designated Marksman Rifle, on a military flat range in Hamburg’s Duvenstedt area. The post went on to explain that the robust G3 DMR closes the gap for medium to long distances between Sturmgewehr and Scharfschützengewehr (sniper rifle).

HK G3 DMR in German Army service
Looks like they are getting some work done from the 300m line. (Photos: German Army)
HK G3 DMR in German Army service
Oh, hallo!

The post soon garnered over 300 comments, mainly from German Boomers and Gen X members who had cut their teeth on the G3 while serving in the Bundeswehr during the country’s old conscription days of the Cold War.

West German panzergrenadier jumping off a M48 Patton during the Cold War, HK G3 in hand.

The G3, in then-West German service, replaced the briefly adopted FN FAL in 1959 and was the country’s standard infantry weapon during the Cold War. While officially replacing the HK G36 in 5.56 NATO starting in 1996, and thousands of legacy G3s were given away as military aid to Eastern European (The Baltic Republics) and overseas (Peshmerga) allies, the legendary roller-delayed blowback rifle is still apparently on hand on a just-in-case basis for “Der Tag.”

Since you’ve come this far, enjoy this circa 1970 film, which shows the G3 in production at HK, complete with a funky period soundtrack. Sure, it is in German, but it really needs no translation.

Kongos a Cruising

It happened 110 years ago this week.

War games, south of the Bungo Straits between the islands of Kyushu and Shikoku, 25 October 1915. The Japanese “Blue” Navy’s 3rd Squadron, exercising its brand new quartet of Kongo-class battlecruisers, showing their teeth against the “Red” Navy’s 2nd Squadron. The photo was taken from the deck of the Haruna, with the Hiei, Kirishima, and Kongo in the foreground.

When built, the Kongos weighed 27,000 tons and were scary to just about every other fleet in the world. Powered by 36 good English Yarrow boilers driving two steam turbines, they could make 27.5 knots, carried as much as 10 inches of armor, and were equipped with an eight-pack of Vickers 14″/45s (or “41st Year Guns” in Japan).

Class leader Kongo herself was built at Vickers in England (Barrow-in-Furness) and delivered in August 1913, while Hiei, Kirishima, and Haruna were constructed at Yokosuka Navy Yard, and the private yards of Mitsubishi and Kawasaki, respectively.

Japanese Battlecruiser Haruna fitting out at Kawasaki’s Kobe shipyard, Japan, in October 1914, with one of her 14-inch Vickers being installed. 

The four sisters were united in squadron service by August 1915, just weeks before the above image was snapped.

All would be lost in the inferno of the Pacific War.

Japanese Battleship Haruna sunk in shallow water near Kure, September 1945 LIFE George Silk

Korean War Ranger Resurgence

Earlier this week, in the post commemorating the 75th anniversary of the combat jump by the 187th “Rakkasans” Regimental Combat Team near the North Korean town of Sukchon/Sunchon well behind enemy lines, in October 1950, I would be remiss to not expound on the mention of Korean War Ranger companies, as members of the 4th Ranger Company leapt with the 187th on its second combat jump during 1951’s Operation Tomahawk.

Here’s a quick rundown.

The first Korean War-era Ranger unit was the Eighth Army Ranger Company (8213 AU), created from whole cloth from among members of the in-theatre 25th Infantry Division in August 1950. It was an experimental “Marauder” company that stood up after the Army’s unwelcome experience fighting Nork stay-behinds and guerrillas after the breakout from Pusan/Inchon and the rapid advance to the Yalu.

Eighth Army Ranger Company, 8213th Army Unit, October 1950, Korea LIFE Hank Walker

By February 1951, 18 such companies were established (the original EARC, joined by 1st through 15th Companies, along with Able and Baker Companies). Of note, while many were quickly formed from volunteers of the “All Americans” of the stateside 82nd Airborne Division, others were drawn from “leg” units and would pick up their parachute wings along the way.

Men of the “Cold Steel” 3rd Ranger Company adjust their gear before undertaking a dawn patrol across the Imjin River, Korea. Note the 3rd Infantry Division patch. 

Rangers in Korea. The “Travel Light, Freeze at Night” 5th Ranger Company. Note their 25th ID patches. Contributor: David Kaufman, via AFSOF History

The Korea-bound First Ranger Company class graduates, November 1950

They were in units much leaner than the seven 516-man Ranger Battalions fielded in WWII, all of which were disbanded by 1946.

As noted by ARSOF History: 

A provisional Table of Organization and Equipment (TO&E) was soon developed. TO&E 7-87 (16 Oct 1950) set the Ranger Company manning at 5 officers and 107 enlisted, with an allowable 10% combat overage, bringing the company strength to 122. A standard infantry rifle company of the time had a TO&E strength of 211.

The six-week training program included a “cycle curriculum consisted of seventeen different topics that included training with foreign weapons, demolitions, field craft and patrolling, map reading, escape and evasion, and intelligence collection.”

One company, the 2nd Rangers, was wholly African American. Unlike the smoke-jumping paratroopers of the “Triple Nickels” during WWII, the 2nd Rangers saw combat.

In all, five of the new airborne Ranger companies—the 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th—saw the elephant in the Korean War besides the EARC during the concept’s 15-month run, while the 6th Rangers were deployed to Europe, attached to the 8th Infantry Division, should the Cold War turn hot there.

The Korean War combat Ranger tabs, via AFSOF History

One of the Eighth Army Ranger Company’s founders, 1st Lt. Ralph Puckett Jr., earned a MoH during the conflict during a raid just three months after the unit was formed.

Then-1st Lt. Ralph Puckett Jr. led fellow Rangers and Korean Augmentation to the United States Army soldiers across frozen terrain under enemy fire to seize and defend Hill 205 in Unsan, North Korea. Puckett will receive the Medal of Honor on May 21, 2021, for going above and beyond the call of duty as the Eighth Army Ranger Company’s commanding officer during a multiday operation that started on Nov. 25, 1950. (Courtesy photo via DVIDS)

While these units proved a godsend in many instances, ideal for deep recon and raids, the Army deemed them a waste of the best sort of men who would be better suited to strengthen the sometimes faltering line units and disbanded all 18 Ranger companies by November 1951. Many of the in-theatre Rangers were folded into the 187th, which seemed a perfect fit.

However, better minds swept in and, with the small unit Rangers showing the way, when Col. Aaron Bank started standing up the 10th Special Forces Group (Airborne) in Colorado the following June, many ex-Rangers, especially those with combat experience, were “called up to the big leagues.”

The budding Ranger Training Center at the U.S. Army Infantry School, where Companies Able and Baker were formed and soon after disbanded, was converted into the Ranger Department in December 1951. The first class of individual Ranger candidates, drawn from across the Army with men returning to their units afterward, graduated on 1 March 1952, following an expanded 59-day training period. Then, as today, they are all volunteer.

Today, Army Ranger School is of course still around, with dedicated full-time Ranger units re-established in 1974. Ranger School now runs for 61-62 days and notoriously has a completion rate of only about 50 percent.

You have to earn the tab.

Warship Wednesday 22 October 2025: Good in a Pinch

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

If you enjoy my always ad-free Warship Wednesday content, you can support it by buying me a cup of joe at https://buymeacoffee.com/lsozi As Henk says: “Warship Coffee – no sugar, just a pinch of salt!”

Warship Wednesday 22 October 2025: Good in a Pinch

Photo provided courtesy of QM2 Robert C. Granger, USCGR, via MCPOCG R. Jay Lloyd, USCG (Ret.), USCG Historian’s Office

Above we see the USCG-manned Tacoma-class patrol frigate USS Annapolis (PF-15) later in her career, circa late 1945, as noted by the weather balloon shack on the quarterdeck.

A veteran of the Battle of the Atlantic during WWII, she was dispatched to the Pacific once that quieted down and, slated to wear a Red Banner in Stalin’s war against the Empire of Japan, was recalled at the last minute– just in time to save the day for an Alaskan port.

The Tacomas

One of the most generic convoy escorts ever designed was the River-class frigates of the Royal Navy and its sister Australian and Canadian services. Sturdy 301-foot/1,800-ton vessels, some 151 were built between May 1941 and April 1945.

Canadian River-class frigate HMCS Waskesiu (K330) with a bone in her mouth, 1944. Kodachrome via LAC

River Class – Booklet of General Plans, 1941, profile

Carrying a few QF 4″/40s, a suite of light AAA guns, and a huge array of ASW weapons with as many as 150 depth charges, they could make 20 knots and had extremely long range, pushing 7,000nm at a 15-knot cruising speed.

In a reverse Lend-Lease, two Canadian Vickers-built Rivers were transferred to the U.S. Navy in 1942: the planned HMS Adur (K296) and HMS Annan, which became the patrol gunboats —later patrol frigates USS Asheville (PG-101/PF-1) and USS Natchez (PG-102/PF-2). Built at Montreal, Asheville, and Natchez were completed with standard U.S. armament and sensors, including three 3″/50s, two 40mm mounts, Oerlikons, and SC-5 and SG radar. Everything else, including the power plant, was British.

USS Asheville (PF-1) plans

With that, the New York naval architecture firm of Gibbs & Cox took the River class frigate plans and tweaked them gently to become the Tacoma-class frigates. Some 2,200 tons at full load, these 303-foot ships used two small tube express boilers and two  J. Hendy Iron Works VTE engines on twin screws to cough up 5,500shp, good for just over 20 knots with a 9,500nm range at 12 knots. Standard armament was a carbon copy of Asheville/Natchez: three 3″/50s, two twin 40mm mounts, nine Oerlikons, two stern depth charge racks, eight Y-gun depth charge throwers, a 24-cell Hedgehog Mk 10 ASWRL, and 100 ash cans. Radar was upgraded to the SA and SL series, while the hull-mounted sonar was a QGA set.

USS Albuquerque 1943 (PF-7), Tacoma class patrol frigate 200414-G-G0000-0003

These could be built at non-traditional commercial yards under Maritime Commission (MC Type T. S2-S2-AQ1) contracts, using an all-welded hull rather than the riveted hull of the British/Canadian Rivers. Many of these would be constructed on the Great Lakes, including by ASBC in Ohio (13 ships), Froemming (4), Walter Butler (12), Globe (8), and Leathem Smith (8) in Wisconsin. On the East Coast, Walsh-Kaiser in Rhode Island made 21, while on the West Coast, Kaiser Cargo and Consolidated Steel in California produced a combined 30 ships.

Using compartmentalized construction, they went together fast. No less than nine Tacomas were built in less than five months, 16 were built in less than six months, and 11 others were built in less than seven months. These times stack up well to the original River class built in British yards, where the best time recorded was 7.5 months. In Canada, the fastest time was just over 5 months.

The Tacomas cost about $2.3 million apiece, compared to $3.5 million for a Cannon-class destroyer escort, or $6 million for a Fletcher-class destroyer, in 1944 dollars.

Meet Annapolis

Our subject was the second Navy warship to carry the name of the Maryland location of the Naval Academy, with the first being the leader of a class of composite steel gunboats, PG-10, which had a lifespan that included service from 1897 through 1940.

Laid down as Hull 842, Maritime Commission No. 1481, at American Shipping Company, Lorain, on 20 May 1943 as PF-15, the second Annapolis was side launched into Lake Erie on Saturday, 16 October 1943, sponsored by Mrs. Belva Grace McCready.

The future USS Annapolis is preparing for launch with her glad rags flying.

The future USS Annapolis (PF-15) was launched at the American Shipbuilding Company shipyard, Lorain, Ohio, on 16 October 1943. NH 66293

The future USS Annapolis (PF-15) just after launch on 16 October 1943. NH 66190

Annapolis was then floated down the Mississippi River to Port Houston Iron Works in Houston, Texas, where she was completed. The Navy commissioned Annapolis at Galveston’s Pier 19 on 4 December 1944, her construction running just over 18 months.

Her plank owner skipper was a regular, CDR Montegue Frederick Garfield, USCG, who was one very interesting character.

Garfield had been born Henry Frederick Garcia at Morro Castle, Puerto Rico, in 1903, the son of Major Enrique Garcia of the Army’s QM Corps. He graduated, ironically, from the USNA at Annapolis in 1924 but, like his father, opted for a career in the Army, becoming a red leg in the field artillery. In 1928, at the height of the Army’s peacetime budget-cutting efforts, he opted to get his sea legs back and accepted an ensign’s commission in the USCG, becoming the service’s first Hispanic-American officer.

Henry Frederick Garcia/Garfield

After service on numerous CG destroyers on the East Coast during the tail end of Prohibition, he was assigned as engineering officer aboard USCGC Shoshone in the Pacific, which supported the doomed Earhart circumnavigation and the later search for the missing aviatrix. He then commanded USCGC Morris in Alaska in 1939, proving key in the evacuation of the fishing village of Perryville during the Mount Veniaminof eruption, then later saved the shipwrecked crew of the exploration schooner Pandora.

During the first part of WWII, Garcia served as XO of Base Charleston, where he participated in the seizure of the interned Italian cargo vessel Villaperosa, then served in Baltimore with the MSTS until being made Assistant Captain of the Port of Los Angeles, where he legally changed his name to Garfield.

Convoy runs

The newly commissioned Annapolis departed for a shakedown cruise to Bermuda on 13 December 1944 and arrived at Norfolk, Virginia, in early February 1945 after workups with the DD/DDE Task Group for post-shakedown availability.

Along the way, she came across the 9,830-ton Texaco oil tanker SS New York in the dark, which almost ended badly.

From her war diary:

Annapolis. USS J. Franklin Bell (APA 16) is on the left. Photo courtesy of QM2 Robert C. Granger, USCGR, via MCPOCG R. Jay Lloyd, USCG (Ret.) 200415-G-G0000-0010

Our frigate then made her first trans-Atlantic escort-of-convoy crossing, with U.S. to Gibraltar-bound UGS.75, leaving Hampton Roads on 17 February. Annapolis rode shotgun with five other escorts–USS Nelson (DD-623), Livermore (DD-429), Andres (DE-45), John M. Bermingham (DE-530), and Chase (DE-158)— over 55 merchant ships, arriving safely at Oran, Algeria, on 5 March 1945. She returned to New York with East-West Convoy GUS.89 on 30 March 1945.

After two weeks’ availability, Annapolis departed on exercises on 13 April 1945. She then left on her second escort-of-convoy crossing, with UGS.88 (the five escorts of CortDiv 42, along with 41 merchants) arriving at Gibraltar on 7 May 1945. Among the escorts she sailed with on this milk run, Annapolis had her ASBC-built sister USS Bangor (PF-16) alongside.

She was anchored at Mers el Kebir, Algeria, with Bangor, on 9 May 1945, and there received the news that Germany had surrendered while waiting to head back to the U.S. with Convoy GUS 90. On the ride back, Garcia/Garfield became commander of CortDiv 42.

At the same time, CDR Garcia/Garfield’s little brother, CDR (future RADM) Edmund Ernest García (USNA ’27), was commander of 58th Escort Division in the Atlantic Fleet, having earned a Bronze Star in fighting the destroyer escort USS Sloat (DE-245) across the Tunisian Coast in the face of Luftwaffe air attacks and seen action in the invasions of Africa, Sicily, and France.

Small world!

Annapolis and Bangor returned to Philadelphia from the ETO on 2 June 1945. After two weeks’ availability, they departed Philadelphia on 16 June 1945, bound for the west coast, as the Pacific War was still on. After passing through the Panama Canal– where they conducted ASW training for the new construction submarines of Subron3 for a month– they shifted station to Puget Sound Navy Yard outside Seattle to remove sensitive gear and refit for further service, with an all-new crew.

It seemed the sisters were slated to fly a red flag.

Russia-bound (?)

Annapolis and Bangor were to be the last two of 30 Tacomas transferred to the Soviet Navy at Cold Bay, Alaska, as part of  Project Hula. They were to have the Russian pennant numbers EK-23 and EK-24, respectively.

On 1 September, Annapolis took on five officers and 25 enlisted from the Red Navy, under the command of CDR VN Milhailav, from Seattle, and left with Bangor steaming in tandem for Cold Bay.

It was while underway from Seattle to Cold Bay that the twins received, almost back to back, the announcement of the formal surrender of Japan on 2 September, followed by the news that the U.S. had suspended all further transfers of ships to the Russkis.

Annapolis and Bangor arrived at Cold Bay on 7 September, where they landed their Soviets and instead took aboard American personnel (five officers and 117 enlisted) requiring transportation to Kodiak, arriving on that far northern island on 9 September. Thus, Bangor and Annapolis were the only two frigates scheduled for transfer under Project Hula not delivered, with 28 sisters going on to serve with the Russians up until the eve of the Korean War.

Right place at the right time

Leaving Kodiak bound for Cold Harbor on 10 September, Annapolis received a distress call from the disabled fishing boat Sanak, which she found the next day and towed to Chignik Bay.

Arriving back at Cold Bay on the 12th, over the next two days, she took aboard U.S. personnel (nine officers and 155 men), then hauled them back to Kodiak alongside Bangor and the 110-foot SC-497 class submarine chaser, USS SC-1055, which had also been scheduled to be given to the Russians but was retained at the last minute. After landing those men, the three humble escorts were ordered to Seattle, with a stop at Ketchikan.

It was there on 22 September that the recently arrived frigates came to the aid of the Canadian-flagged Grand Trunk Pacific Railway liner SS Prince George (3,372 GRT), which had caught fire while tied up at Ketchikan’s Heckman Municipal Pier.

The liner Prince George had been built for GTPR in England in 1910. The 307-foot coaster was capable of carrying 236 passengers and light cargo at 18 knots and had been on the Vancouver to Southeast Alaskan run for 35 years, with a break in the Great War as a 200-bed hospital ship. (Walter E Frost – City of Vancouver Archives)

Notably, HMC Prince George was the first Great War Commonwealth hospital ship, converted at Esquimalt in 1914.

Smoke billows from the liner SS Prince George in Tongass Narrows on 22 September 1945. Ketchikan Museums: Tongass Historical Society Collection, THS 72.1.3.1

With Garcia/Garfield the senior officer present, he directed the frigates intermittently alongside the blazing Prince George using all available firefighting gear and saving 50 men stranded aboard the liner. To avoid having the stricken ship capsize at the dock, Annapolis effected a dead stick tow and beached the vessel on the shallow shores off Gravina Island to allow her to burn out quietly.

Look at all those depth charges. Official caption: “Smoking disaster at a Coast Guard base in Ketchikan, Alaska, the Coast Guard-manned frigate Annapolis maneuvers to tow the blazing liner Prince George downstream and away from the town. The ill-fated liner now lies, a blackened hulk, on nearby Gravina Island; only one of over 100 crew members has lost.” USCG photo. National Archives Identifier 205580274, Local Identifier 26-G-4818.

The fire raged for days, only dying out when the superstructure collapsed. Maritime Museum of British Columbia 010.036.0003j

Declared a total loss, the wreck was refloated and towed to Seattle for scrapping in 1949. Maritime Museum of British Columbia 010.036.0035

Their job done, Annapolis, Bangor, and SC-1055 shipped down from Ketchikan the next day via the inland passage through the Seymour Narrows, with Garcia/Garfield in charge of the small task force, arriving at Indian Head Ammo Depot outside of Seattle on the 25th. Annapolis then entered Puget Sound Navy Yard the next day for availability. Of note, the surplus SC-1055 was transferred to the Coast Guard as USCGC Air Sheldrake (WAVR 461) for continued service.

It was while at Puget Sound that Annapolis was refitted as a Weather and Plane Guard ship, landing much of her ASW gear and adding a weather balloon shack aft.

On 5 January 1946, she arrived at San Francisco then assumed Weather Station “E” until 5 April 1946.

Annapolis departed San Francisco on 16 April 1946, bound for Seattle, where she was decommissioned on 29 May 1946, her Coast Guard crew, mostly reservists enlisted for the duration, exiting Navy service.

Transfer, effected

With the Navy having no appetite for these slow little frigates at a time when they were mothballing brand new destroyers and DEs by the dozens, both Annapolis and Bangor were soon sold as surplus to Mexico. Annapolis became ARM General Vicente Guerrero, later ARM Rio Usumacinta, while Bangor was renamed ARM General José María Morelos, and later ARM Golfo de Tehuantepec. They were joined by Tacoma-class sisters ex-USS Hutchinson (as ARM California) and ex-Gladwyne (ARM Papaloapan), and, rated as “fragatas,” were all stationed on the Mexican Pacific Coast.

Annapolis in Mexican service

Jane’s 1960 listing of the four Mexican Navy Tacomas.

The four sisters remained in Mexican service until scrapped in 1964.

Epilogue

Little of PF-15 remains. Her war diaries are digitized in the National Archives.

As for Garcia/Garfield, after leaving Annapolis, he was made skipper of the famed USCGC Campbell (WPG-32), then was head of personnel for the Coast Guard’s Eighth District in New Orleans. He finished his career as a captain in 1956 after five years as the Chief of Intelligence of the 12th USCG District in San Francisco, then moved to San Diego and got into real estate. In all, he spent 35 years in uniform between the USNA, the Army, and the USCG. Capt. Garfield died 26 June 1966, and was buried in Section A-H, Site 52, in Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery, just west of San Diego.

His father, Maj. Garcia, was buried in Arlington National Cemetery in 1932 and was joined by his brother, Edmund, after the retired admiral died in 1971.

The Navy recycled the name for a third Annapolis, giving it to the reconfigured jeep carrier ex-USS Gilbert Islands (CVE-107) when that WWII/Korean War vet was reclassified as a Major Communications Relay Ship (AGMR-1) on 1 June 1963. That floating antennae farm was disposed of in 1979.

USS Annapolis (AGMR-1) Underway at slow speed in New York Harbor, 12 June 1964, soon after completing conversion from USS Gilbert Islands (AKV-39, originally CVE-107). Staten Island ferryboats are in the left and center backgrounds. NH 106715

A fourth USS Annapolis, a Los Angeles-class submarine (SSN-760), was commissioned in 1992 and is currently part of the  Guam-based SubRon15, although she is slated to decommission in FY27.

ROCKINGHAM, Western Australia (March 10, 2024) – U.S. Navy Sailors assigned to the Los Angeles-class fast-attack submarine USS Annapolis (SSN 760) and HMAS Stirling Port Services crewmembers prepare the submarine to moor alongside Diamantina Pier at Fleet Base West in Rockingham, Western Australia, March 10, 2024.

Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive

***

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Bluejacket Cavalry!

The first Navy ship named for the capital of the state of Maryland and the location of the U.S. Naval Academy, USS Annapolis (Gunboat No. 10), was laid down on 18 April 1896 at Elizabethport, New Jersey, by Lewis Nixon and commissioned at New York on 20 July 1897.

U.S. Navy gunboat, USS Annapolis (PG-10), port view. Detroit Publishing Company, 1890-1912. Courtesy of the Library of Congress. Lot 3000-K-20

She was a class leader of gunboats with three sisters (Vicksburg, Newport, and Princeton) built during the transition period of the maritime world: sail to steam and wood to steel. They used a composite hull construction of steel keel and frames, steel shell plating from main deck to waterline, and wood planking with copper sheathing to the keel.

She was designed by RADM Phillip Hichborn, chief constructor of the Bureau of Construction and Repair, with RADM George Wallace Melville, chief of the Bureau of Steam Engineering, designing her power plant– the latter a triple expansion reciprocating steam engine, better known as an “Up‐n‐Downer,” using steam supplied by two early water tube boilers at 180 psi.

The 203-foot steel-hulled barkentine-rigged three-masted steam gunboat carried a wallop in the form of six 4-inch breechloading guns, four QF 6-pounders, and two 1-pounders, plus, with a crew of 130 bluejackets, she could send a platoon-sized force ashore as light infantry (which we shall see) and still fight the ship. Best yet, she could float in just 13 feet of water, which allowed her to own a coastal littoral, when needed.

The 12-gun (6×4″, 4x6pdr, 2x1pdr) Composite gunboat USS Annapolis, 1895 plan NARA 19-N-12-17-4

Within a year, she was in service out of Key West enforcing the blockade on Cuba, helping to capture an enemy merchant ship and a British steamer with Spanish contraband. She also tag-teamed the Spanish gunboat Don Jorge Juan and sank same. She then sailed for the Far East and spent four years in those waters, primarily in the Philippine Islands.

Rebuilt at Mare Island from 1904-07, she would serve as the station ship in American Samoa until December 1911, when, returning to Mare Island, she was once again placed out of service.

Gunboat USS Annapolis off of San Francisco in 1912.

Then came a mission to Nicaragua, spending 11 months on a very muscular deployment to Central America, where her men logged one of the 136 instances of individual groups of bluejackets operating ashore as infantry (from squad to brigade level) between 1901 and May 1929. The spark that Annapolis was sent to contain was the coup d’état of General Luis Mena, Minister of War under President Alfonso Diaz, who thought he could do a better job than Diaz.

Amazingly, the gunboat landed a light company-sized force of Bluejackets, consisting of five officers and 90 men, under the command of LT James A. Campbell, Jr., U.S. Navy, at Corinto, which proceeded 90 miles by rail to Managua, Nicaragua, to serve as a legation guard and to protect American interests. They spent three months detached and were soon reinforced by other naval landing forces along with Major Smedly Butler’s Marine battalion, the latter consisting of 13 officers and 341 men. LCDR William Daniel Leahy (USNA 97), the battleship USS California’s gunnery officer, became the chief of staff of the expeditionary force and the commander of the small garrison at Corinto.

Expeditionary Force “Bluejackets” disembarking at Corinto, Nicaragua, from USS Annapolis (Patrol Gunboat #10), August 29, 1912. Collection of Fleet Admiral William D. Leahy, Jr.

Expeditionary Force, “Bluejackets” at Leon, Nicaragua, from USS Annapolis (Patrol Gunboat #10), August 29, 1912. Collection of Fleet Admiral William D. Leahy, Jr. NMUSN-P-D-2015-1-9

Expeditionary Force, “Bluejacket Calvary [sic]” at Corinto, Nicaragua, from USS Annapolis (Patrol Gunboat #10), August 29, 1912. Collection of Fleet Admiral William D. Leahy, Jr. NMUSN-P-D-2015-1-11

“Insurrectos – Barricading Street, note the automatic, which seems to be a Vickers gun, at Corinto, Nicaragua, from USS Annapolis (Patrol Gunboat #10), August 29, 1912. Collection of Fleet Admiral William D. Leahy, Jr.

As further detailed by DANFS:

Annapolis remained at Mare Island until recommissioned on 1 May 1912, Cmdr. Warren J. Terhune in command.

Sometime in May, the warship moved south to San Diego, whence she departed on the 21st and headed for the coast of Central America. She arrived off the coast of Nicaragua, at Corinto, on 13 June. Conditions in that Central American republic had been unstable throughout the first decade of the 20th century, but after 1910, became increasingly worse as three factions vied with each other for power. By the summer of 1912, General Estrada, more or less democratically elected under American auspices, had been forced out of office. His vice president, Adolfq Diaz, took over his duties, but by the end of July, full-scale civil war raged in Nicaragua. Annapolis returned to the Corinto area on 1 August following a six-week cruise along the coasts of Honduras, El Salvador, and Guatemala.

The gunboat remained at Corinto for the following four months, periodically sending landing parties ashore to protect Americans’ lives and property and to restore order in areas where Americans were located. On 9 December, she departed Nicaraguan waters to return to San Francisco, where, after stops at Acajutla, El Salvador, and at San Diego, Calif., she arrived on 30 December. That same day, the warship entered the Mare Island Navy Yard for repairs.

She completed repairs late in January 1913 and returned to sea on the 20th. The gunboat made a 16-day stop at San Diego before resuming her voyage to Central American waters on 7 February. Annapolis arrived at Amapala, Honduras, on 17 February and remained there until 9 March. After a short cruise to the Gulf of Fonseca and to Petosi in Nicaragua on 9 and 10 March, she returned to Amapala on the 10th and remained there until 23 April.

Annapolis would spend the next several years poking around Mexican waters during the cyclical series of revolutions and civil wars between 1914 and 1918, after which she served in the American Patrol during the Great War.

Annapolis was placed out of commission at Mare Island in 1919, and the next year was towed via the Panama Canal to Philadelphia, where she was turned over to the Pennsylvania State Nautical School as a floating school ship, on a loan basis, for the next 20 years.

ex-USS Annapolis, Pennsylvania’s ‘schoolship’, as she looked in 1922 while anchored in the Delaware River

When WWII came, she was turned over to the Maritime Commission for disposal in 1940 and, in poor condition, was later scrapped.

By that time, a second Annapolis had joined the fleet.

But that is another story.

Rakkasans hit the silk!

Some 75 years ago today, paratroopers of the United Nations forces made a combat jump from aircraft near the North Korean town of Sukchon/Sunchon well behind enemy lines, 20 October 1950.

This dramatic picture was made on Friday, October 20, over the area of Sunchon, about 23 miles northeast of Pyongyang. It shows six Fairchild C-119 Flying Boxcars of Far East Air Force Combat Cargo Command about to paradrop troops of the 11th Airborne Division together with necessary equipment and supplies, to stop the northward retreat of North Korean troops who have been forced out of the enemy capital of Pyongyang. Paratroopers were dropped on an arc between the North Korean cities of Sukchon and Sunchon. 342-AF-77984AC

These men were all of the 187th “Rakkasans” Regimental Combat Team, the old 187th GIR/PIR of WWII fame. On 20 October, they dropped 1,407 men in the first serial, and 1,203 men in the second, reinforcing the regiment with its last tranche of 671 men on the 21st.

A lot of gear was also flown in/dropped in, including a full dozen 105mm pack howitzers, 39 jeeps, 38 1/4-ton trailers, a quartet of 90mm antiaircraft guns (each with a 3/4-ton truck to pull them), and 584 tons of ammunition, gasoline, water, rations, and other supplies.

111-SC-362121

It had originally been thought that the 187th could be used in Inchon in a similar way to the old 82nd/101st Airborne on D-day in Normandy, but the Army couldn’t get the paratroopers in theater in time.

The regiment had been redesignated from the 187th Airborne Infantry Regiment on 28 August 1950, just three days before loading on 14 troop trains from Fort Campbell, cross-country from Kentucky to San Francisco for sealift embarkation for Korea aboard the USNS Heintzelman and the USNS Anderson. It had only arrived at Moji Port, Kyushu, Japan, on 20 September, joining the Eighth Army’s reserve.

Within days, they were airlifted via 300~ C-119 Flying Boxcar sorties from Ashyia AB to Kimpo outside of recently-liberated Seoul.

Paratroopers of the 187th Regimental Combat Team put on parachutes and “Mae West” life preservers before boarding a 483rd Troop Carrier Wing U.S. Air Force C-119 “Flying Boxcar,” en route to Korea from southern Japan. Combat Cargo “Commandos” and C-119s airlifted the 187th RCT personnel, weapons, vehicles, and supplies, in a continuous operation lasting two nights and a day, which involved 300 round-trip flights across the Japan Sea. The big transport planes landed or took off every two minutes, in combat Cargo’s eighth airlift of the 187th since the Korean war began. 342-AF-88059AC

They were used in action in “rat hunting expeditions,” mop-up duties against North Korean stragglers. They saw combat starting on 24 September as part of the tail end of the Inchon operation once the Inchon Marines had been shifted north to Wonson.

Battle-equipped paratroopers of the 187th Regimental Combat Team wait to board C-46s of the 315th Combat Cargo Group before take-off on an airborne assault mission somewhere in Korea. 342-AF-84143AC

Then came the prep for the Sukchon jump, which was intended to cut off a North Korean evacuation toward the safety of the Yalu River, hopefully bagging the country’s brass as it fled the capital of Pyongyang to the south.

As noted by the unit history:

At 1900 hours on the eighteenth, with all preparations completed and billets cleared, a briefing was held for pilots and jumpmasters at Kimpo AFB. A drizzling rain had begun and continued throughout the day. At the joint briefing, it was announced that, in the event of worsening weather, the jump would be delayed by three-hour periods.

Though the weather reports were unfavorable for the 20th, Headquarters remained alert throughout the late hours until Colonel Bowen returned with the news that P-Hour was postponed until 1100 hours, 21 October. Turned out of barracks, the troops had only their combat loads and a ticket on an air train that looked as though it might not leave.

Revielle was held at 0230 hours on 20 October. It was still raining when the men fell out for formation. Formed by plane loads in stick order, they shuttled to Kimpo AFB. At 0400 hours, the drawing and fitting of parachutes began. Then the jump was postponed for three hours. Few men realized that a train containing Communist Party bigwigs and American Prisoners of War had already departed Pyongyang.

At 1030, the order was given to chute up.

A typical C-119 aircraft carried two sticks of 23 men each, fifteen monorail bundles, and four door bundles. The planes were so filled that some men had to sit on the floor to find space. Each man, besides a main parachute and reserve, carried a light pack, water, rations, ammunition, a 45 caliber pistol, and a carbine or M-1 rifle. An extra Griswald container, filled with small arms or light mortar ammunition, was carried.

At 1200 hours, the first aircraft, commanded by Colonel Bowen, was airborne. Some of the aircraft scraped the ground on takeoff. The flightpath hooked West over the Yellow Sea before curving back into North Korea from the seaside to maximize surprise and minimize flying over enemy-contested territory.

The armada consisted of 73 C-119s of the 314th Troop Carrier Wing from Ashiya, AFB, Kyushu, and 40 C-47s of the 21st Troop Carrier Wing from Brady AFB, Kyushu, Japan. Top cover was established at 5,000 feet by escorting F-80 Shooting Stars while F-51 Mustangs were on call for ground support.

At 1350, the airborne force turned east on the base leg of the approach to the drop zone, opening the monorail doors just 20 minutes out, while still over the water. “When the green light came on, door bundles, monorail, and paratroopers debouched in a streaming mass. Seventy-four tons of equipment and 1,470 men were landed from the first two serials alone.”

“Stopped by the camera the split second before his parachute opens, this paratrooper seems to be dangling from the Far East Air Force’s C-46 Commando of the 437th Troop Carrier Wing from which he has jumped. Beneath him, the parachutes of other 187th Regimental Combat Team troopers in his “stick” have already burst open. Presenting an excellent example of the air-ground team in action, FEAF’s 437th Troop Carrier Wing works in the closest possible coordination with the veteran 187th. C-46 “Commando” of the 437th and other transports of the 315th Air Division (Combat Cargo) dropped paratroopers at Munsan-ni last March, and once previously in the Sunchon-Sukchon area north of Pyongyang, Korea, in October 1950. Since that time, the two organizations have worked closely on practice field maneuvers. Thirty “Commandos” participated in this training exercise. HF-SN-98-07329″

The first serial had landed by 1405 hours and was soon in contact with what turned out to be the 239th North Korean Infantry Regiment.

The second serial, under the command of Lt. Col. Gerhart, comprised 17 C-119s lifting the First Battalion, Regimental Headquarters, Support Company, Company A 127th Engineers, Medical Company, and Service Company. These elements dropped southeast of Sukchon before dark. By the next day, the Medical Company was carrying out casevac of critical cases by helicopter and L-5 Grasshoppers, while the Clearing Platoon moved more stable patients to a hospital in Sukchon.

In the first use of a helicopter in support of an airborne operation, the USAF’s 3rd Air Rescue Squadron sent H-5s to evacuate some 35 paratroopers and rescue 7 American POWs from the Sukchon and Sunchon area. In the same operation, a C-47 used loudspeakers to persuade some 500 enemy troops hiding in houses near Kunmori to surrender. Combat Cargo Command began aeromedical evacuations from Pyongyang.

The H-5 “Dragon Fly”, originally designated the R-5 (H for Helicopter; R for Rotorcraft), was designed to provide a helicopter having greater useful load, endurance, speed, and service ceiling than the R-4. The first XR-5 of four ordered made its initial flight on August 18, 1943. In March 1944, the AAF ordered 26 YR-5As for service testing, and in February 1945, the first YR-5A was delivered. During its service life, the H-5 was used for rescue and mercy missions throughout the world. It gained its greatest fame, however, during the Korean War when it was called upon repeatedly to rescue United Nations’ pilots shot down behind enemy lines and to evacuate wounded personnel from frontline areas. More than 300 H-5s had been built by the time production was halted in 1951.

Relieved by Australian-manned Sherman tanks of the 27th Commonwealth Brigade, the 187th was able to fall back to captured Pyongyang on the 24th. Their first combat jump in Korea was a success, and even though it did not catch the Nork leadership, it disrupted a division-sized force and bagged 3,818 enemy POWs.

In all, the 187th only suffered 29 KIAs during the operation.

Sukchon, North Korea, a 187th RCT paratrooper paints over a portrait of the country’s “Red Premier” on 20 October 1950, via LIFE magazine.

It wasn’t the first American parachute combat jump into Korea ever, as an OSS Team had made a drop into the Japanese-controlled Seoul area on 19 August 1945, four days after the ceasefire, ahead of American occupation troops in the last days of WWII.

The 187th made a second combat jump in Korea: Operation Tomahawk on 23 March 1951 into Musan Ni where 3,486 men, augmented by the 4th Ranger Company, 674th Parachute Field Artillery, and a few members of the 66 India Para Ambulance Detachment, jumped to cut off a Chinese retreat.

187th Airborne Regimental Combat Team dropping into Munsan-ni, Korea, in March 1951 SC 414084

Paratroopers of the 187th Airborne Regimental Combat Team, seated in the cargo compartment of 314th Troop Carrier Group C-119 “Flying Boxcar,” “sweated out” the flight to the drop zone at Munsan-ni, Korea, in March 1951. This was the second combat airborne assault for the U.S. Air Force aircraft of the 314th Troop Carrier Group since their arrival in the Far East in August 1950. The first assault was at Sukchon-Sunchon, Korea, in September 1950, when the 187th was dropped shortly after the Allied landing on the beachhead at Inchon. Dropping paratroopers is only one of the many missions performed by the 314th since they joined the Far East Air Forces two years ago. 342-AF-117302AC

Parachutes billow out behind a formation of 314th Troop Carrier Group C-119 “Flying Boxcars” over a drop zone in Korea as paratroopers of the 187th Airborne Regimental Combat Team make a practice parachute jump as a part of their training for an airborne assault. 342-FH-4A(37869)

“One of the nine missions assigned to the 315th Air Division (Combat Cargo) is the dropping of paratroopers in airborne assaults. Far East Air Forces Combat Cargo has participated in two such combat assaults: at Sukchon-Sunchon, Korea, in October 1950 and at Munsan-ni in March 1951. Chutes billow out as troopers of the U.S. Army 187th Regimental Combat Team jump from a formation of U.S. Air Force C-46 “Commandos.” While airborne assaults took place, other Combat Cargo planes continued the other missions assigned to the 315th Air Division. Besides airborne operations, FEAF Combat Cargo planes have airlifted more than 1,100,000 passengers and 400,000 tons of cargo on the Korean airlift.” 342-AF-121729AC

And that was the end of large combat jumps during the Korean War.

Small jumps, of the U.S.-trained United Nations Partisan Forces Korea (UNPFK), meanwhile, were logged by at least 21 missions behind enemy lines between 17 March 1951 and 18 May 1953, with most teams ranging between 6 and 20 men, except for one large operation (Green Dragon) that dropped 97 hardy souls. Of these, with the partisan forces receiving as little as six days of training before their drop, very little was heard of them again.

The mighty Willis

After covering Unatis LXVI earlier this week, these images from almost 60 years ago to the day seemed appropriate.

Below we see USS John Willis (DE-1027) as she maneuvers in heavy seas while operating with the Unitas VI task force off the Argentine coast on 19 October 1965.

USN 1114319-C

Destroyer escorts USS John Willis (DE-1027) and sistership USS Van Voorhis (DE-1028) steam astern of the destroyer leader USS Norfolk (DL-1) while operating with the UNITAS VI task force off the Argentine coast on 19 October 1965. USN 1114319-A

A Dealey-class destroyer escort, DE-1027, was named for Pharmacist’s Mate First Class John Harlan Willis, who gave his last full measure with the 5th Marine Division on Iwo Jima in 1945.

Christened by his widow and later commissioned at Philadelphia Naval Yard on 21 February 1957, our DE gave important service off Lebanon in 1958, the Cuban Missile Crisis and intervention in the Dominican Republic in 1961, trained Norwegian Navy personnel to operate their own Dealey-class escorts, clocked in on NASA splash down missions, and sailed on a myriad of deployments and exercises, including at least two of the early Unitas events.

She was stricken from the naval registry on 14 July 1972, and on 8 May 1973, she was sold for scrapping, having served but 16 short but busy years during the Cold War.

12 Gauge on Watch

Official wartime caption: “On Guard. Silhouetted sailor, rifle slung on his back, stands guard at a North African port as a huge ship is unloaded of its vital cargo, 31 August 1943.”

U.S. Navy Photograph. Courtesy of the Library of Congress PR-06-CN-215-5

Note that the above blue jacket appears to be on the stern of a small escort, as a loaded depth charge rack and smoke generator are present. Also note the slung 12-gauge, which appears by its bayonet lug to be a Winchester 97. While the Marines had fielded the Winnie in the Great War, Prohibition mail duty, and the assorted Banana Wars of the 1920s, the Navy typically only used long-barreled sporting guns for recreation and hunting, with a few “riot guns” on hand at large brigs and aboard a few gunboats on the China Station.

As noted by Canfield, in January 1942, the Naval Supply Depot, Norfolk, only had 751 “riot type” and 134 “sporting guns” on inventory loaned out across the Atlantic fleet. This resulted in an immediate order for 8,000 Model 97s from the War Department as all stocks of shotguns were “exhausted.” This was in addition to the guns needed for training and to equip the Marines, who were soon issuing 100 combat shotguns per regiment.

The “scattergat” endures in Navy service both ashore with MA units and afloat in most small arms lockers. Today, the Mossberg 500/590 series, which has been acquired almost continually since 1981 in a revolving series of contracts, is most commonly encountered in Navy hands.

230214-N-NH267-1484 INDIAN OCEAN (Feb. 14, 2023) U.S. Navy Fire Controlman (Aegis) 2nd Class Cody McDonald, from Spring Creek, Nev., fires an M500 shotgun during a visit, board, search, and seizure (VBSS) gun shoot on the flight deck of the Arleigh Burke-class guided-missile destroyer USS Paul Hamilton (DDG 60). Paul Hamilton, part of the Nimitz Carrier Strike Group, is in U.S. 7th Fleet conducting routine operations. 7th Fleet is the U.S. Navy’s largest forward-deployed numbered fleet, and routinely interacts and operates with Allies and partners in preserving a free and open Indo-Pacific region. (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 2nd Class Elliot Schaudt)

Pour 12 out for the ever-maligned yet everlasting Kingstons

Over the past several years, I have made no bones about my admiration for the 12 humble yet effective Kingston-class Maritime Coastal Defence Vessels (MCDV) of the Royal Canadian Navy.

Kingston-class MCDVs HMCS Glace Bay (MM 701) and HMCS Shawinigan (MM 704)

For the bottom line of $750 million (in 1995 Canadian dollars), Ottawa bought 12 ships, including design, construction, outfitting, equipment (85 percent of Canadian origin), and 22 sets of remote training equipment for inland reserve centers.

These 181-foot ships were designed to commercial standards and intended “to conduct coastal patrols, minesweeping, law enforcement, pollution surveillance and response as well as search and rescue duties,” able to pinch-hit between these wildly diverse assignments via modular mission payloads in the same way that the littoral combat ships would later try.

Canadian Kingston-class coastal defence vessel HMCS Saskatoon MM 709 note 40mm gun forward MCDV

Manned with hybrid reserve/active crews in a model similar to the U.S. Navy’s NRF frigate program, their availability suffered, much like the Navy’s now-canceled NRF frigate program. This usually consisted of two active rates– one engineering, one electrical– and 30 or so drilling reservists per hull. Designed to operate with a crew of 24 for coastal surveillance missions with accommodation for up to 37 for mine warfare or training, the complement was housed in staterooms with no more than three souls per compartment.

With 12 ships, six were maintained on each coast in squadrons, with one or two “alert” ships fully manned and/or deployed at a time, and one or two in extended maintenance/overhaul.

Intended to have a 15-year service life, these 970-ton ships have almost doubled that. These shoestring surface combatants were pushed into spaces and places no one could have foreseen, and they have pulled off a lot– often overseas, despite their official “type” and original intention.

Northern Lights shimmer above HMCS GLACE BAY during Operation NANOOK 2020 on August 18, 2020. CPL DAVID VELDMAN, CAF PHOTO

However, all good things come to an end, and the Kingstons are slated for a long-overdue retirement this year.

The class in retrospect:

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