Category Archives: US Navy

The ‘last U-boat’ takes her final dive, 73 years ago today

Here we see a rather dramatic explosion as USS Greenfish (SS-351)‘s torpedo sinks U-234 off Cape Cod, Mass, 20 November 1947.

Greenfish was a Balao-class fleet sub commissioned 7 June 1946, too late for WWII. She did, however, perform duty during the Korean and Vietnam wars and, after she was decommissioned in 1973, was transferred to the Brazilian Navy as the submarine Amazonas (S-16), who kept her in service for another 20 years before she was ultimately scrapped in 2001. The Greenfish also sank at least one other submarine– her sistership and former Warship Wednesday alumni USS Barbero (SS/SSA/SSG-317) off Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, on 7 October 1964 after that ship was stricken.

U-234, on the other hand, was a Type XB U-boat built as a long-range cargo submarine with missions to Japan in mind. Commissioned 2 March 1944, she left Germany in the last days of the war in Europe with a dozen high-level officers and advisors, technical drawings, examples of the newest electric torpedoes, one crated Me 262 jet aircraft, a Henschel Hs 293 glide bomb and 1,210 lbs of uranium oxide. She never made it Japan as her skipper decided to make for Canada instead after the fall of Germany. Two Japanese officers on board committed suicide and were buried at sea while the sub– packed with her very important glow in the dark stuff– surrendered to the destroyer escort USS Sutton south of the Grand Banks, Newfoundland on 14 May, a week after VE Day.

Though other U-boats popped up after her (U-530 and U-977 arrived in Argentina in July and August 1945, respectively) U-234 has been called “The Last U-Boat” in at least two different documentaries about her voyage.

Former U-234 is torpedoed by USS Greenfish (SS-542), in a test, on 20 November 1947, 40 miles northeast of Cape Cod.

Golden BB, DDG edition

Lost in the sauce in the past few days resulting in the excitement and afterglow of the recent NASA/SpaceX mission to the International Space Station was an interesting bit of space news.

Well, space/naval news, anyway: the first successful smackdown of a (simulated) ICBM at extreme altitude by a destroyer-launched SM-3.

As noted in a DOD presser:

The U.S. Missile Defense Agency (MDA), and U.S. Navy sailors aboard the USS John Finn (DDG-113), an Aegis Ballistic Missile Defense (BMD) System-equipped destroyer, intercepted and destroyed a threat-representative Intercontinental Ballistic Missile (ICBM) target with a Standard Missile-3 (SM-3) Block IIA missile during a flight test demonstration in the broad ocean area northeast of Hawaii, Nov. 16.

This event, designated Flight Test Aegis Weapon System-44 (FTM-44), was the sixth flight test of an Aegis BMD-equipped vessel using the SM-3 Block IIA guided missile. FTM-44 satisfies a Congressional mandate to evaluate the feasibility of the SM-3 Block IIA missile’s capability to defeat an ICBM threat before the end of 2020.

“This first-of-its-kind test shows that our nation has a viable option for a new layer of defense against long-range threats,” said Bryan Rosselli, vice president of Strategic Missile Defense at Raytheon Missiles & Defense.

Warship Wednesday, Nov. 18, 2020: Ely’s Shotgun

Here at LSOZI, we take off every Wednesday for a look at the old steam/diesel navies of the 1833-1946 time period and will profile a different ship each week. These ships have a life, a tale all their own, which sometimes takes them to the strangest places. – Christopher Eger

Warship Wednesday, Nov. 18, 2020: Ely’s Shotgun

U.S. Navy Photograph. Courtesy of the Library of Congress Lot 918-2. Also, at NHHC as NH 76511

Here we see a famous shot, taken in Hampton Roads, Virginia some 110 years ago this week, of aviation pioneer Mr. Eugene Burton Ely flying his “Hudson Flyer” Curtis pusher aeroplane— the first to take off from a warship of any kind. While Ely flew from USS Birmingham (Scout Cruiser # 2), a storied ship we have covered in the past, this Warship Wednesday is focused on the unsung first carrier plane guard– the Paulding-class tin can USS Roe (Destroyer No. 24), visible in the background.

The 21-vessel Pauling class, built across four years from 1908 to 1912 were smallish for torpedo boat destroyers, tipping the scales at just 742-tons. Overall, they ran 293-feet long, with a razor-thin 26-foot beam. Using a quartet of then-novel oil-fired Normand boilers (although a range of other boilers was experimented with) pushing a trio of Parsons direct-drive steam turbines, they could gin nearly 30-knots when wide open, although they rattled and rolled while doing so. This earned them the “flivver” nickname after the small and shaky Ford Model Ts of the era. Armament was five quick-firing 3″/50 cal guns and a trio of twin 450mm torpedo tubes, to which depth charges would later be added.

Constructed by four different yards at the same time, the class had vessels completed with either four or three stacks, of which Roe was in the latter category.

The 1914 Jane’s entry for the class, note the varied boiler fit and funnel scheme.

Roe was the first ship named in honor of RADM Francis Asbury Roe (USNA 1848) who explored the Northern Pacific and fought off Chinese pirates on the brig USS Porpoise before the Civil War, during which he served first as XO of the gunboat USS Pensacola before skippering the gunboat USS Katahdin in the fight against the Confederate ram CSS Arkansas. He finished the war as captain of the sidewheeler USS Sassacus and again fought a second Rebel ironclad, CSS Albemarle. Post-war he helped escort the French out of Mexico and exercise gunboat diplomacy in Brazil. Promoted to Commodore in 1880, he gained his star on the retired list in 1885 and is buried at Arlington.

CDR Roe 1866 (NH 46948-KN) and RADM Roe, retired, 1893, at age 70 (NH 103530-KN)

Laid down by Newport News Shipbuilding on 18 January 1909, USS Roe commissioned 17 September 1910, built for $642,761.30, which adjusts to about $17 million in today’s dollars.

USS Roe (Destroyer # 24) Ready for launching, at the Newport News Shipbuilding Company shipyard, Newport News, Virginia, 24 July 1909. Collection of the Society of Sponsors of the United States Navy. NH 103520

USS Roe (Destroyer # 24) Sliding down the ways during her launching, at the Newport News Shipbuilding Company shipyard, Newport News, Virginia, 24 July 1909. The original print is a halftone reproduction. Collection of the Society of Sponsors of the United States Navy. NH 103519

Like the coal-fired Smith-class that preceded them, the Pauldings used a layout of three Parsons turbines with a high-pressure center turbine exhausting to two low-pressure “cruising” turbines on outboard shafts, with the latter used to conserve fuel at low speeds.

The above shows USS Flusser (DD-20)’s engines under construction in 1909 showing the three-shaft/turbine arrangement. Photo from Bath Iron Works – General Dynamics Company.

Roe was a testbed for her type, being the first of her class to run trials and enter service although she was technically the third ordered. Departing from the standard quartet of Normand boilers, she was fitted instead with Thornycroft boilers, two in each engine room, fed by Sirocco forced draft fans. Each room was supplied with 22 oil sprayers and two oil heaters, doing away with coal.

“The enlisted man in the navy is said to be very much interested in oil fuel and in the consequent abolition of the dirty job of ‘coaling ship,’ an expression which will now have to give way to ‘oiling ship,” noted the October 1910 Marine Review.

Designed for a top speed of 28-to-29-knots, she bested that on her all-oil-fired suite of geared turbines, making headlines.

Attached to the Torpedo Flotilla, Atlantic Fleet after commissioning, Roe would spend the next six years in a cycle of winter maneuvers in the Caribbean and Gulf of Mexico, followed by summers cruising off the mid-Atlantic and southern New England sea coasts, completing exercises, interspaced with downtime spent in reserve with a reduced complement– a common fate for the vessels of the rapidly-expanding manpower-poor American steel Navy of the era.

USS Roe In port, circa 1910-1915. NH 43764

USTBD Roe with a bone in her mouth, 1911, NARA 165-WW-335E-20

That’s not to say during that time she didn’t see some interesting events.

In November 1911, Roe, with her paint still fresh, was partnered with a quartet of other vessels in an aviation experiment. Besides the already mentioned scout cruiser Birmingham, the little task force included the torpedo boats USS Bailey (TB-21) and the USS Stringham (TB-19), and Roe’s recently completed sistership, USS Terry (Destroy No. 25). The two destroyers were selected to accompany Birmingham and to follow the course of Mr. Ely’s aeroplane and render service if necessary while the two torpedo boats were ordered to standby as backups.

On that fateful day in the Chesapeake Bay, as superbly detailed in an essay by Dr. Greg Bradsher, Senior Archivist at the National Archives at College Park, Roe embarked the aviator’s wife, Mabel Ely, a collection of naval officers, “and a corps of newspapermen from Washington to cover the flight, as well as Brig. Gen. Allen (who may have been aboard Birmingham).”

While the short flight went off without any disastrous hitches, Roe stood by a recovered Ely after the event and was the immediate host to the celebration for the daring young man and his flying machine.

The launch took Ely and the officers to the Roe, where, gathered in the mess room, they were photographed by cameramen. Everyone congratulated Ely and they talked about the flight as they returned to Norfolk.

“The spray got on my goggles,” Ely explained, “so that I could not see or tell which direction I was going for a time. When I got my goggles clear I saw I was heading for a beach that looked like a convenient landing place, so I kept on.” “The splash in the water was my own fault. “The front push rod was a little longer than the one I am used to and I didn’t handle it quite right. Then of course the fact that the ship was not under way was a great disadvantage to me.” The naval officers agreed. They were unanimous in declaring that the flight was rendered much more difficult by the fact that the ship had not gotten underway when the aeroplane left her deck. They observed that Ely had lost all the advantage of the head-on breeze. If the ship had been going ten knots the aeroplane would have arisen much easier. “Had it been necessary I think I could have started right back and landed on the Birmingham” he said. “I think the next test along this line might be that of landing on a ship in motion. There should be no difficulty in accomplishing this. This would mean that an aeroplane could leave the deck of a ship, fly around and then return to the starting point.” While discussing the flight someone brought it to his attention that Ryan had offered a prize of $500 for the first flight made by a USAR member from the deck of a warship more than one mile out at sea to shore. Ely said he had not heard of the prize

Her initial flight activities behind her, Roe got back to fleet work.

In January 1912, Roe, along with four other destroyers battled a two-day storm at sea off Bermuda that scattered the group. As a result, Roe suffered some pretty gnarly damage from a rogue wave during the storm, crumpling two of her three funnels.

USS Roe, Showing Stacks Damaged by Storm, Brooklyn Naval Yard 1/22/1912 LOC 6880371 + 6281761, along with Jan. 9, 1912 edition of the NY Herald

She frequented Pensacola throughout 1916 in further support of the Navy’s aviation operations, with local newspapers in that Navy town running numerous articles on her activities pier-side. Her crew’s “strong” baseball team even repeatedly crossed bats with the local Pensacola Peps and Old Timers clubs.

USS Roe (Destroyer # 24) Ship’s officers and crew, circa 1915-1916. The two officers in the center are possibly (from left to right): Lieutenant (Junior Grade) Aaron S. Merrill, and Lieutenant (Junior Grade) Guy C. Barnes, Roe’s commanding officer. Note the African American stewards in the right corner and the ship’s mascots including a pit-bull in the life ring. The original photograph, by Rox, 518 So. Palafox, Pensacola, Florida, was printed on a postal card, which was mailed at Pensacola on 23 September 1916 with the message: Look natural? Courtesy of Jack Howland, 1982. NH 93718 + Article from the Pensacola Journal, Aug. 4, 1916

When America finally joined the Great War, Roe was ready on day one, seizing the interned 5,800-ton German steamer SS Hohenfelde on behalf of the U.S. Shipping Board, 6 April 1917, at Savannah, Georgia, the same day that Congress responded with the declaration of War requested by President Wilson. The fine British-built Hohenfelde was captured in fairly good shape and would go on, like most captured German ships in 1917, to be repurposed for U.S Navy use, entering the fleet as the cargo ship USS Long Beach (AK-9), 20 December 1917.

Meanwhile, Roe made ready to go “Over There,” sailing for France in early November 1917, where she would spend the next year on coastal patrol and escort duty.

USS Roe (Destroyer # 24) Laying a smokescreen, before World War I. Photographed by Waterman. Courtesy of Jack Howland, 1985. NH 100400

Oiling ship! USS Roe (Destroyer # 24), at right, taking on oil from USS Warrington (Destroyer # 30), at sea off the coast of Brest, France, 1 June 1918. Note Warrington’s dazzle pattern camouflage. NH 41760

She crossed paths with at least one German submarine. Per DANFS:

On 8 August 1918, Roe went to the rescue of the U.S. freighter Westward Ho, a 5,814-ton steamer, which had been torpedoed in the Bay of Biscay by U-62 (Kapitänleutnant Ernst Hashagen commanding) while en route from New York to LaPallice, France, in convoy HB-7. The destroyer took on board the 46 members of the sunken ship’s crew. While in formation the next day, 9 August, Roe received a signal of “submarine ahead.” The ship maneuvered until a wake was visible on which she dropped depth charges, but with no discernible results.

USS Roe (Destroyer # 24) On patrol in 1918. She is painted in dazzle camouflage. Collection of Peter K. Connelly. Courtesy of William H. Davis, 1967. NH 64986

Arriving back in the States on 1 December 1918, she was given a much-needed overhaul at Charleston then was placed out of commission exactly a year later on 1 December 1919.

In all, Roe only served nine years and three months with the fleet but in that abbreviated decade had been the Navy’s inaugural plane guard, survived a tempest, and fought in at least one shooting war. With that, she joined her fellow low-mileage greyhounds in mothballs.

Panoramic of the Reserve Fleet Basin, Philadelphia Navy Yard, PA, ca. 1920-1921. Visible are a vast number of laid-up destroyers including USS Sturtevant (DD-240), USS Roe (DD-24), and USS Gregory (DD-82). NHHC S-574

Rum Row

As deftly retold in a paper by the USCG Historians Office, the service, then part of the Treasury Department, was hard-pressed to chase down fast bootlegging boats shagging out to “Rum Row” where British and Canadian merchants rested in safe water on the 3-mile limit loaded with cases of good whiskey and rum for sale.

Rumrunners in Canada and in the Bahamas had the cry, “For some, there’s a fortune but others will die, come on load up the ship boys, the Yankees are dry.”

This led the agency to borrow 31 relatively new destroyers from the Navy, an act that would have been akin to the USN transferring most of the FFG7 frigates to the Coast Guard during the “cocaine cowboy” days of the 1980s.

From the USCG Historian:

In the end, the rehabilitation of the vessels became a saga in itself because of the exceedingly poor condition of many of these war-weary ships. In many instances, it took nearly a year to bring the vessels up to seaworthiness. Additionally, these were by far the largest and most sophisticated vessels ever operated by the service and trained personnel were nearly nonexistent. As a result, Congress authorized hundreds of new enlistees. It was these inexperienced men that made up the destroyer crews and contributed to the service’s greatest growth prior to World War II.

A total of 31 destroyers served with the Coast Guard’s Destroyer Force. These included three different classes, the 742-ton “flivver-class,” “1,000-ton class”, and the 1,190-ton “Clemson-class” flush-deckers. Capable of over 25 knots, the destroyers had an advantage in chasing large rumrunners. They were, however, easily outmaneuvered by smaller vessels. The destroyers’ mission, therefore, was to picket the larger supply ships (“mother ships”) and prevent them from off-loading their cargo onto smaller, speedier contact boats that ran the liquor into shore.

Via The Rum War at Sea, USCG

Roe was reactivated and transferred to the Treasury Department on 7 June 1924 at the Philadelphia Navy Yard for service with the Coast Guard and was among the first group of destroyers loaned to the Coast Guard for the war on booze. Commissioned as CG-18 at the New York Navy Yard 30 May 1925, she was stationed at Boston.

As described by CDR Malcolm F. Willoughby, USCGR, ret, in The Rum War at Sea, the 229-page 1964 work on this period in Coast Guard history, these destroyers, which in many cases were mothballed in poor shape, were run on a shoestring once transferred, at least until a larger force was literally created from scratch.

Outside of a half dozen old-time Coast Guard men, the crew were enlisted and shipped directly from the recruiting office to the ship. They might have been shoe salesmen or clerks one week, the next week they were on board a destroyer with the rating of apprentice seaman or fireman third class. Great were the difficulties of running a specialized ship with an inexperienced crew.

U.S. Coast Guard destroyers at the New York Navy Yard, 20 October 1926 These former U.S. Navy destroyers were transferred to the Coast Guard to help fight the illegal rum-running traffic along the East Coast. They are (from left to right): USCGC Monaghan (CG-15, ex USN DD-32); Unidentified; USCGC Roe (CG-18, ex USN DD-24) with a damaged bow; USCGC McDougal (CG-6, ex USN DD-54); and USCGC Ammen (CG-8, ex USN DD-35). Courtesy of the San Francisco Maritime Museum, San Francisco, California, 1969. NH 69025

One of Roe’s most curious cases during her career as a Coastie involved that of the two-master John R. Manta— who in 1925 had been the “last vessel to complete a whaling voyage in New England.” Found aground in shallow water off Nantucket in May 1929, once towed in, the converted whaler was founded to have no Americans aboard, no manifest, no log entries, and, besides a few guns and bottles of booze, also held 11 “aliens all in exhausted conditions” hidden in a compartment secreted under a linoleum deck. Each had paid a whopping $250 for their undocumented passage– $3,800 in today’s greenbacks.

USCGD Roe CG-18 at sea. Coast Guard destroyers typically spent 60-day cruises at sea, scouting long-range sweeps along their patrol zone in a lookout for motherships which they would picket in a game of interference as the vessels were typically beyond the jurisdictional 12-mile limit. DVIDS Photo 1119155

1931 Jane’s showing a few “Coast Guard destroyers”

In poor condition, Roe was placed in a reduced-manning status 25 October 1929, her now-experienced crew transferred to the newly-fielded Coast Guard destroyer Trippe (CG-20), a Paulding class sistership who had served in the Navy as USS Trippe (DD-33).

Officially returned to the Navy on 18 October 1930, she was returned to the Navy List and stored in Philly but never rejoined the fleet. Instead, she was stricken and sold for scrap in 1934 per the London Naval Treaty, a fate shared by the rest of the class.

Her engineering drawings are in the National Archives along with 100 pages of work orders.

RADM Roe’s name was reissued to the new Sims-class destroyer (DD-418), commissioned 5 January 1940. The hardy new tin can served from Iceland to the Torch Landings and Iwo Jima, earning six battle stars during World War II. She was sold in 1947 to the breakers. There has not been a third Roe on the Navy List.

USS Roe (DD-418) Underway at sea, circa 1943-1944. NH 103528

Specs:
Displacement:
742 long tons (754 t) normal
887 long tons (901 t) full load
Length: 293 ft 10 in
Beam: 27 ft
Draft: 8 ft 4 in (mean)
Installed power:12,000 ihp
Propulsion:
4 × Thornycroft boilers
3 × Parsons Direct Drive Turbines
3 × screws
Speed:
29.5 kn
31kt on Trials
Range: 2175(15) on 225 tons of oil
Complement: 4 officers 87 enlisted U.S. service. 75 in Coast Guard
Armament:
5 × 3 in (76 mm)/50 caliber Mark 3 low-angle guns
6 × 18-inch (450 mm) torpedo tubes (3 × 2)
Depth charges, in two stern racks and one Y-gun projector, added in 1917, removed in 1924

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So Cal Devastator

TBD-1 Devastator of VT-5 pictured in flight over Southern California.

Photo/description from the Naval Aviation Museum

Note the Navy E and squadron insignia, a Valkyrie or maiden of Odin that hovered over the battlefield and chose those to be slain, on the fuselage beneath the cockpit.

Insignia: Torpedo Squadron Five (VT-5) Emblem was adopted during the later 1930s when VT-5 served onboard USS Yorktown (CV-5). This reproduction features a stylized representation of a TBD Devastator torpedo plane and an explanation of the insignia’s design. Courtesy of John S. Howland, 1975. U.S. Naval History and Heritage Command Photograph Catalog #: NH 82628-KN

The aircraft shown above is 5-T-7 Bu No 0331 pictured in November 1939 when she was operating off USS Yorktown (CV 5) with VT-5.

Thus: 

Douglas TBD-1 Torpedo Planes of Torpedo Squadron Five (VT-5) Parked on the after flight deck of USS Yorktown (CV-5) at Naval Air Station, North Island, San Diego, California, in June 1940. Three of these aircraft closest to the stern are painted in an experimental camouflaged color scheme used during Fleet Problem XXI– one of which could be 5-T-7 as it is not seen among the crowd of other planes.  Also, note two of Yorktown’s eight 5″/38 singles on sponsons. This section of the ship was examined when Yorktown’s wreck was located in May 1998. The after thirty feet (approximately) of the flight deck was missing, but most other features seen were present, including the ship’s name on her stern. This view is cropped from Photo # 80-G-652042. U.S. Naval History and Heritage Command Photograph. Catalog #: NH 95314

Bu 0331 was transferred to VT-7 on USS Wasp (CV-8) in 1941 and later operated as a trainer at Dahlgren, Virginia until being scrapped in 1944.

While the TBD gets a bad wrap these days– largely because of their disastrous performance at Midway, where any other torpedo bomber of the day (Fairey Swordfish, Nakajima B5N2 “Kate” et al) would have likewise performed poorly in an unsupported daylight attack against a surface fleet protected by good fighter cover– it should be remembered that it was the best torpedo bomber available to the U.S. Navy at the time. Remember, VT-8, which flew Avengers at Midway, didn’t have much luck either. 

Keep in mind that at the Battle of Coral Sea, TBDs landed seven torpedos on the Japanese carrier Shoho, sending that flattop to the bottom. 

Slow That Fury Down

A U.S. Navy Douglas AD-6 Skyraider (BuNo 134538) from Attack Squadron VA-105 “Mad Dogs” refueling a North American FJ-3M Fury (BuNo 139232) of Fighter Squadron VF-62 “Boomerangs,” overwater, circa 1958.

U.S. Navy National Museum of Naval Aviation photo No. 1996.253.7228.002

Note the early AIM-9B Sidewinder missile on the Fury– essentially a navalized F-86 Sabre with folding wings, a J65 engine, and 20mm cannons– and the extended landing gear, to be able to fly as slow as the Spad. While capable of high subsonic level flight, the Fury/Sabre had a low stall speed for a jet, down to the 120-knot range, which was well inside the AD-6’s envelope. The propeller of the refueling pack is also clearly visible.

Both the Mad Dogs and the Boomerangs were assigned to the short-lived Air Task Group 201 (ATG-201) for a nine-month Med to West Pac deployment aboard the converted WWII flattop USS Essex (CVA-9) from 2 February to 17 November 1958. The cruise ran so long due to the Lebanon Crisis which saw 1,700 Marines supported by not only Essex but also her sistership USS Wasp (CVA-18) and the new Forrestal-class supercarrier USS Saratoga (CVA-60).

Battleship No. 39: Grab the Cutlasses!

From the 1924 overhaul plans of the Pennsylvania-class dreadnought USS Arizona (BB-39), listing her battery. Besides the traditional battlewagon muscle such as 14″/45, 5″/51, and 3″/50 guns, keep scrolling down passed the two submerged torpedo tubes, two 1-pounder boat guns, and quartet of four-pounder saluting guns, and you see her impressive small arms locker for fielding a light battalion-sized landing force of bluejackets armed with 350 M1903 Springfields, 100 GI .45s, an unspecified number of Krag 1898s (which may have been line throwers), two .30-cal machine guns, and a 3-inch field piece.

Oh yeah, and 10 cutlasses– arms that remained an ordnance allowance item until 1949.

For reference: Atlantic Fleet sailors in formation at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, landing force drill, circa 1909, complete with packs and rifles.

Collection of CQM John Harold. Catalog #: NH 101534

Filling the I in the G-I-F-UK Gap

U.S. Navy Lockheed P-3C Orion aircraft from Patrol Squadron VP-49 at Naval Air Station Keflavik, Iceland, 1971. (U.S. Navy Photo)

Going back to the first act of Red Storm Rising, American ASW aircraft based in Iceland was a mortal thorn in the side of the Red Banner Fleet’s submarines headed to the Atlantic. Originally established by the U.S. Army Air Force as Meeks Field in 1942 during the occupation of Iceland in WWII, by 1951 Naval Air Station Keflavik was up and running and remained in operation until it was closed in 2006 following the thaw in the Cold War.

Now civilian-run Keflavik Airport for the past 14 years, occasional NATO Air Policing units visit off and on to keep roaming Russian Bears away and, since 2016, Navy P-3s have increasingly passed through while new hangars have been constructed to accommodate P-8 Poseidons.

And, in an underreported story, ADM Robert Burke, commander of both U.S. Naval Forces Europe-Africa (CNE-CNA) and Allied Joint Forces Command (JFC) Naples, said it was possible a squadron of Poseidons could operate from Keflavik again.

75 Years Ago: Wake Island Fireball

Today in 1945, just weeks after the end of WWII, the world entered a new phase of naval aviation when a Ryan FR-1 Fireball fighter (accidentally) made a landing on an aircraft carrier under jet power alone.

The Fireball was an interesting hybrid stepping stone in aviation, a mixed-power single-seater with a Wright R-1820-72W Cyclone 9-cylinder air-cooled radial piston engine in the front and a GE J31-GE-3 centrifugal-flow turbojet engine in the back, enabling it to break over 400mph with both fired up or travel at more sedate speeds on either.

Ryan FR-1 (Bu# 39651) In flight, with propeller stopped and jet engine supplying power, near NATC Patuxent River, Maryland, 24 July 1945. NH 89683

Ryan FR-1 (Bu# 39648) At NATC Patuxent River, Maryland, 11 March 1945. Note the J31 jet engine port in the rear and intakes in the wing roots. NH 89684

Just 77 airframes were completed by VJ-Day (of a planned 1,044) and the Fireball underwent initial and unsuccessful trials on the USS Ranger in May 1945 while attempting to do pilot carrier quals with VF-66/41, the only operational squadron to use the Fireball.

Speaking of carrier quals, it was Ensign J. C. “Jake” West who, his prop feathering unintentionally, fired up his GE J31 and touched down on the escort carrier USS Wake Island (CVE 65)– only narrowly hooking the last wire before going over the side, some 75 years ago today. 

Not a lot of real estate…USS WAKE ISLAND (CVE-65) Underway in the Hampton Roads, Virginia, area, 9 November 1944. Photographed by N.A.S. Norfolk. 80-G-289879

Sara & Co stop by Rabaul

Some 77 years ago today:

Aerial of USS Saratoga (CV 3) en-route to Rabaul Island, November 1943. Photographed by Lieutenant Wayne Miller, TR-8221. 80-G-470815

On 1 November 1943, the 3rd Marine Division landed at Cape Torokina in Empress Augusta Bay, about halfway up the west coast of Bougainville.

That very evening into the next morning, RADM Stanton Merrill’s Task Force 39 took on the IJN’s 5th Cruiser Division in a dramatic surface action that preserved the initial beachhead known as the Battle of Empress Augusta Bay.

Soon after that, ONI discovered that as many as 10 Japanese cruisers were massing at Rabaul– a significant surface action force that could really affect the landings, especially if they sortied under the cover of night.

USS Saratoga (CV 3), in conjunction with the light carrier USS Princeton (CVL-23), supported by a joint raid by 27 B-24s of the USAAF 3rd Bomb Group with P-38s running top cover, was ordered to spoil the Japanese force’s plans.

SBD leaving the deck of USS Saratoga (CV 3) and heading to Rabaul Island, November 1943. Photographed by Lieutenant Wayne Miller, TR-8218 80-G-470814

As noted by DANFS 

As troops stormed ashore on Bougainville on 1 November, Saratoga’s aircraft neutralized nearby Japanese airfields on Buka. Then, on 5 November, in response to reports of Japanese cruisers concentrating at Rabaul to counterattack the Allied landing forces, Saratoga conducted perhaps her most brilliant strike of the war. Her aircraft penetrated the heavily defended port and disabled most of the Japanese cruisers, ending the surface threat to Bougainville. Saratoga, herself, escaped unscathed and returned to raid Rabaul again on 11 November.

Aircraft from Saratoga (CV-3) and Princeton (CVL-23) hit shipping at Rabaul, including several cruisers, 5 November 1943. One cruiser, at the right-center, has been hit. This view is looking west, taken from a Saratoga aircraft. Japanese cruisers and destroyers are standing out of Simpson Harbor into Blanche Bay. Note the antiaircraft fire (80-G-89104).

The ships massed included the cruisers Atago, Takao, Maya, Mogami, Agano, Noshiro, Chikuma, and Haguro.

The huge 15,000-ton Maya was perhaps the most damaged, suffering 70 killed when an SBD-delivered bomb hit the aircraft deck port side above the No. 3 engine room and started a major fire. Takao, Mogami, and Atago also suffered significant, although not crippling, bomb damage.

Noshiro was hit by a dud Mark 13 aerial torpedo dropped by an Avenger. Agano was the target of a better-performing Mark 13 which blew off the very end of her stern and bent her rearmost propeller shafts. Several destroyers also suffered damage.

24 Japanese fighters from Lakunai airfield, rising up to meet the carrier planes and Liberators, were shot down, depriving the Empire of not only their airframes but in most cases, precious experienced pilots that could not be replaced.

All in all, not bad work.

Commander Joseph C. Clifton, USN, commander of Saratoga’s fighter group, passes out cigars in celebration of the successful air attack on Rabaul, 5 November 1943 (80-G-417635).

Just frogmen doing frogmen stuff

140121-N-KB563-148 CORONADO, Calif. (Jan. 21, 2014) Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL (BUDs) students participate in Surf Passage at Naval Amphibious Base Coronado. Surf Passage is one of many physically demanding evolutions that are a part of the first phase of SEAL training. (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 1st Class Michael Russell/Released)

In two separate incidents within the same week, quiet groups of maritime commandos were out getting it done.

From the U.S. Department of Defense:

Statement by Jonathan Hoffman, Assistant to the Secretary of Defense for Public Affairs:

“U.S. forces conducted a hostage rescue operation during the early hours of 31 October in Northern Nigeria to recover an American citizen held hostage by a group of armed men. This American citizen is safe and is now in the care of the U.S. Department of State. No U.S military personnel were injured during the operation.

We appreciate the support of our international partners in conducting this operation.

The United States will continue to protect our people and our interests anywhere in the world.”

Word is the SEAL unit parachuted in from CV-22s, supported by a circling P-8A for comms and surveillance and an AC-130 gunship on standby if things went pear-shaped, then scratched six of seven kidnappers in short order.

One counterterrorism source told ABC News, “They were all dead before they knew what happened.”

Meanwhile, in the UK…

The SBS, the seagoing and much more low-profile nautical companion to the SAS, stormed the Greek-owned Liberian-flagged crude oil tanker Nave Andromeda off the Isle of Wight after seven Nigerian stowaways popped up and started threatening the merchant vessel’s 22-man crew, who retreated to a fortified compartment.

Ending a 10-hour standoff, 16 SBS operators boarded the ship, with some fast-roping from two Royal Navy Merlin helicopters and the others rappelling up the side from a rigid inflatable boat under the watchful eye of snipers in a Wildcat helicopter and the Royal Navy Type 23 frigate HMS Richmond. Clearance divers were also on hand if there were EOD needs. 

The entire ship was secured in just seven minutes and all stowaways were accounted for. 

It was not the first time in recent memory that SBS had to get to work in home waters, having boarded an Italian cargo ship, Grande Tema, in the Thames Estuary in 2018 after it had been hijacked by four Nigerian nationals.

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