Aviation Ordnancemen, assigned to Carrier Air Wing (CVW) 8, perform routine maintenance on an F/A-18E Super Hornet on the flight deck of the world’s largest aircraft carrier USS Gerald R. Ford (CVN 78) in the Mediterranean Sea, Oct. 16, 2023. VFA-37 is deployed aboard Gerald R. Ford as part of Carrier Air Wing (CVW) 8. Gerald R. Ford is the U.S. Navy’s newest and most advanced aircraft carrier, representing a generational leap in the U.S. Navy’s capacity to project power on a global scale. The Gerald R. Ford Carrier Strike Group is currently operating in the Mediterranean Sea, at the direction of the Secretary of Defense. The U.S. maintains forward-deployed, ready, and postured forces to deter aggression and support security and stability around the world. (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist Seaman Tajh Payne)
With the current “where’s the carriers” moment in history– including having the Ford Carrier Strike Group (CVN-78/CAW-8) in the Eastern Mediterranean along with U.S. 6th Fleet command ship USS Mount Whitney (LCC-20) and USS Mesa Verde (LPD-19) with half of the 26th MEU aboard while the Eisenhower Carrier Strike Group (CVN-69/CAW-3) is operating in the Gulf of Oman near the Strait of Hormuz with the Bataan Amphibious Ready Group and the rest of the 26th MEU in the Red Sea– a look back at the old “million sortie” war waged from Yankee and Delta Station days is relevant, in which sortie rates would average upwards of 4,000 a month when three carriers were on station.
Vietnam
The NHHC recognizes at least 103 deployments of 21 assorted fleet carriers (CV, CVA, CVAN, CVS) to support operations in/off Vietnam in the Gulf of Tonkin between USS Oriskany (CVA-34)’s first cruise that began 1 Aug 1963 and her last that ended, post-Operation Frequent Wind, on 3 March 1976– putting “Big O” as the bookends for the conflict in terms of flattop operations.
The following ships are visible (bottom to top): USS Wiltsie (DD-716), USS Tappahannock (AO-43), USS Oriskany (CVA-34), USS Mars (AFS-1), and USS Perkins (DD-877). The Oriskany, with assigned Carrier Air Wing 19 (CVW-19), was deployed to Vietnam from 16 April to 17 November 1969.
A-7B of VA-215 standing by on the catapult of USS_Oriskany (CV-34) in 1976.
Only one of these carriers (USS Shangri-la) actually touched port in the Republic of South Viet Nam and only for one day (21 June 1970) when she stood into Danang for vitally needed parts for the down Number 3 elevator– received via helo. The ship returned to Yankee Station the same day.
The carriers
The run down by carrier and number of deployments, highest to lowest:
USS Oriskany (10) USS Hancock (9) USS Kitty Hawk (9) USS Constellation (8) USS Coral Sea (8) USS Ranger (8) USS Enterprise (7) USS Ticonderoga (7) USS Bon Homme Richard (6) USS Midway (6) USS Bennington (4) USS Kearsarge (4) USS America (3) USS Hornet (3) USS Intrepid (3) USS Yorktown (3) USS Forrestal (1) USS Franklin D. Roosevelt (1) USS Independence (1) USS Saratoga (1) USS Shangri-la (1)
It was an air war that started with a generation of aircraft left over from WWII and ended with the final generations of the Cold War.
A well-worn A-1A Skyraider of VA-215, “The Barn Owls,” is brought up to the Hancock’s catapult, while operating off the coast of Vietnam, 6 May 1966. Photographed by Photographer’s Mate Third Class Worthington, USN 1120337
An F-14A Tomcat of Fighter Squadron (VF) 2 pictured just after launching from the carrier Enterprise (CVAN 65). F-14s flew combat air patrols during Operation Frequent Wind, the evacuation of South Vietnam in 1975. (1st PHX launch from CV: Bean Barrett/Wizard McCabe) Robert L. Lawson Photograph Collection NNAM.1996.253.7419.029
Deployments by class:
Midway: 15 by 3 carriers Essex: 50 by 10 carriers Forrestal: 11 by 4 carriers Kitty Hawk: 20 by 3 carriers Enterprise: 7 by 1 carrier
Those who didn’t have a turn in the barrel
Just about every combat carrier in the U.S. arsenal during Vietnam made a deployment there with only a few exceptions.
USS John F. Kennedy (CVA-67), commissioned in 1968, spent Vietnam on Mediterranean Sea deployments. Meanwhile, the brand new USS Nimitz (CVN-68) was commissioned on 3 May 1975 and didn’t embark on her first deployment until the following summer, likewise to the Med.
Of the 19 Essex class flattops that were in commission in the era (1963-76), 10 clocked in on Vietnam’s Yankee/Delta Stations including four that were anti-sub boats. Of the others, four (Essex, Randolph, Wasp, and Lake Champlain) were East Coast anti-submarine (CVS) ships needed in the Atlantic to keep tabs on the Soviet Bear and provide recovery ships for NASA missions, Lexington was in a training role at Pensacola from 1962 onward, Antietam mothballed early in 1963, and the three unmodified “straight deck” carriers (Boxer, Princeton, and Valley Forge) rerated during the era as amphibious helicopter platforms (LPH) and served extensively in both shuttling Marines around during assorted Vietnam operations and carrying Army helicopters to the theater.
Boxer (LPH-4) loaded with 200 helicopters of the 1st Cavalry Division bound for the Vietnam War, 1965
To keep three to four carriers on the line, at least seven had to be deployed. In addition to the four, one of the other three would be at Cubi Point, one at Hong Kong and one at Yokosuka, Japan. The latter had the only real ship repair facility in the western Pacific, with an aircraft repair facility close by, although lighter maintenance and less extensive alternations could be effected in Cubi as well. As for crew liberty, no one seemed to complain about any of the three ports.
Not too many years or even months ago, it was a popular pastime for amateur military strategists to speak and write words that questioned the U. S. investment in aircraft carriers in the U. S. Navy. These capital ships, termed “super-carriers” in the press, were considered to be great white elephants, vulnerable to whatever force an enemy chose to throw at them; costly dinosaurs that plodded the seas at 30 knots in an era when air speeds above a thousand knots were commonplace.
Today, as the continuous pounding from the three attack carriers at “Yankee Station” grinds on, this criticism is seldom heard. Instead, there are repeated requests for more carriers on the line, and expressions of approbation from quarters once opposed to the carrier weapons system. Thus, it appears appropriate after three years of conflict in Southeast Asia to examine the aircraft carrier and its aircraft and to forecast its future in this war and others the nation may encounter.
The cost was heavy
Over 700 men from air wings and ships companies were lost in action or taken prisoner. A whole generation of squadron and wing commanders was erased from the pipeline as more than 100 Navy commanders (O-5s) were killed or captured within nine years. No less than 532 Navy fixed-wing carrier aircraft were lost in combat and another 329 to operational causes with the F-4 Phantom leading the pack with 138 lost.
Those figures don’t include another 32 Sea Kings and Sea Sprites lost in operations in the Gulf of Tonkin or of Marines who flew from Navy carriers.
Warship Wednesday, Nov. 22, 2023: From Midway to Trafalgar
Above we see a great bow-on shot of the FRAM’d Gearing class destroyer USS Eugene A. Greene (DD/DDR-711)with a bone in her teeth in her second life as the Spanish Navy’s Churruca (D61) in the 1980s, the country’s traditional crimson and gold Rojigualda ensign on her mast, a twin 5″/38 hood ornament and two forward-facing Mk.32 triple torpedo tubes under the bridge wings. Her original moniker comes from naval aviator Eugene Allen Green, born 98 years ago this week.
The Gearings
In July 1942 the U.S. Navy, fighting a U-boat horde in the Atlantic and the Combined Fleet in the Pacific was losing ships faster than any admiral ever feared in his worst nightmare. With that in mind, the Navy needed a lot of destroyers. While the Fletcher and Allen M. Sumner classes were being built en mass, the go-ahead for some 156 new and improved Sumners— stretched some 14 feet to allow for more fuel and thus longer legs to get to those far-off battlegrounds– was given. This simple mod led to these ships originally being considered “long hull Sumners.”
These hardy 3,500-ton/390-foot-long tin cans, the Gearing class, were soon being laid down in nine different yards across the country.
Designed to carry three twin 5-inch/38 cal DP mounts, two dozen 40mm and 20mm AAA guns, depth charge racks and projectors for submarine work, and an impressive battery of 10 21-inch torpedo tubes (downgraded to just 5 tubes) capable of blowing the bottom out of a battleship provided they could get close enough, they were well-armed. Fast at over 36 knots, they could race into and away from danger when needed.
Meet Eugene A. Greene
Our subject is the first Navy ship to be named in honor of Eugene Allen Green, born in Smithtown, New York on 21 November 1921. A 1940 graduate of Rhode Island State College, he attended ROTC while in school and promptly enlisted in the U.S. Navy Reserve’s air cadet program, earning his ensign bar along with his wings of gold by August 1941.
Assigned to Bombing (VB) Six aboard USS Enterprise (CV-6) in March 1942, he gave his last full measure behind the controls of his SBD (6-B-9) at the ripe old age of 21 during the Battle of Midway when, following the attack by VB-6 against the aircraft carrier Kaga on 4 June, he was one of 14 of the “Big E’s” pilots that had to ditch their planes on the way back home, out of fuel. Greene and his gunner, RM3c SA Mutane, along with the crews of eight other ditched aircraft from Enterprise that day, would never be seen again.
Greene was granted a posthumous Navy Cross in December 1942 and his widow, Mrs. Anita M. Greene, would sponsor the destroyer named in his honor.
The second of 16 Gearings contracted via Federal Shipbuilding, Kearny, New Jersey, the future USS Eugene A. Greene (DD-711) was laid down on 17 August 1944, launched the following March, and commissioned on 8 June 1945.
War!
While 98 Gearings would eventually be completed, most of these arrived too late to take part in WWII, with Greene joining a club that only included 44 sisters who arrived very late in the war. Although some were present in the final push to Tokyo, none were damaged or lost. Three of the class– USS Frank Knox, Southerland, and Perkins— entered Tokyo Bay in time to be present at the Japanese surrender, on 2 September 1945.
As for Greene, her WWII service, as detailed by her War History, consisted primarily of a shakedown cruise ranging from Penobscot Bay, Maine to Guantanamo Bay then, in mid-August following the news of the Japanese surrender, was assigned to the Atlantic fleet to serve as a school ship in Norfolk and Casco Bay, then to Pensacola to assist as a plane guard for aviation cadets– a task she would be well-versed in over her career.
USS Eugene A. Greene (DD-711) off New York City on 29 May 1946. She is still painted in wartime Camouflage Measure 22. NH 66345
A Chilly Peace
As the Navy’s newest destroyers, none of the new Gearings were mothballed after the war.
On 13 February 1947, Greene sailed south in a task group bound for Montevideo, Uruguay, to participate in the festivities accompanying the inauguration of the country’s new president, Tomás Berreta. The group also paid a goodwill visit to Rio de Janeiro before returning to Norfolk on 31 March.
Light cruiser USS Fresno (CL-121) on port call at Rio De Janeiro, March 1947, alongside her Gearing class consorts, USS Gearing, USS Gyatt, and USS Eugene A. Greene. Note the stern depth charge racks. The quartet was returning from Uruguay where they represented the U.S. at the inauguration of the new Uruguayan president. The Fresno was launched in 1946, too late to serve in WWII, so she took part in good-will diplomatic missions like this. She was sold for scrap in 1966. Photo attributed to Robert Norville, from NavSource.
As detailed by DANFS, the Norfolk-based Greene then became a staple of the 6th Fleet until 1960:
On 10 November 1947, Eugene A. Greene sailed on the first of 9 Mediterranean cruises made over the next 13 years. During those years, she and her sisters of the U.S. 6th Fleet have guarded the interests of peace and order in that sea which was the cradle of democratic government. Voyages to northern Europe and the Arctic varied the routine of overseas deployment for Eugene A. Greene.
What was skipped by DANFS was the fact that Greene was on hand in the region for five months through the 1956 Suez Crisis just in case she was needed.
It should be noted that, by this stage, she was significantly modernized, picking up a new tripod mast with AN/SPS-6 L-band radar (later augmented by an SPS-8A S-band capable of spotting aircraft 60nm away) and lightened her topside by landing most of her WWII AAA suite, torpedoes, and depth charges. This resulted in a change to a destroyer radar picket (DDR-711) that she held from July 1952 until she reverted to the simpler DD-711 in March 1963.
USS Eugene A. Greene (DD-711) underway at sea on 19 September 1950. Note that she has received a new tripod mast with AN/SPS-6 radar and has landed much of her WWII AAA suite, torpedoes, and depth charges. National Archives Identifier 24743125
At sea, October 1951. 80-G-442191
USS Eugene A. Greene (DDR-711) off the Norfolk Naval Shipyard on 18 December 1952. National Archives Identifier 24743145
Same as the above, bow on 24743147
Same as the above, stb profile. Note the newly installed AN/SPS-8 air search radar aft for her role as a DDR picket. 24743143
The Frostiest Part of the Cold War
Greene experienced the life that came with all the classic 1960s naval adventures in the Atlantic.
Greene is on the list of U.S. Navy ships that received the Armed Forces Expeditionary Medal for participating in the Cuban quarantine, from 24 October through 20 November 1962.
Roger Powell missed ship’s movement of the destroyer USS Rush (DD-714) — along with 44 other shipmates as she sortied out over the weekend on little notice– and was tacked on to help fill out Greene’s crew, similarly, headed for Cuba to be a plane guard alongside the USS Enterprise.
Greene would undergo a nearly year-long FRAM I reconstruction at Boston NSY, completed in October 1963. Meant to add 8 years to the ship’s life via a complete rehabilitation of all shipboard components, it also fundamentally changed the destroyer to a modern sub-buster. The 5″/38 Mount 52 forward was removed during the rebuild while a hangar and platform for the QH-50C DASH ASW drone was added in place of the SPS-8A radar house.
Also new was an 8-cell ASROC matchbox launcher amidships, SQS-23 SONAR, VDS, and a six-pack of Mark 32 torpedo tubes. She added Mk 44 ASW torps to her magazine, for use by her own Mk32s as well as DASH, which theoretically could drop them some 20 miles away from the destroyer.
When she left Boston, she became first the flag of Destroyer Squadron 28, then DESRON 32.
Like most East Coast-based Navy ships in the era, Greene participated in several NASA recovery missions between other assignments, logging two (Mercury-Atlas 2 and 3) in early 1961 and Gemini-Titan 2 (GT-2) in 1965, supporting the primary recovery ship, USS Lake Champlain (CVS-39).
A great view of the post-FRAM’d USS Eugene A. Greene (DD-711) steaming past USS Lake Champlain (CVS-39) during operations on 23 September 1964. Note her ASROC amidships and her big DASH hangar aft in place of the deleted Mount 52. She still carries her aft mount (Mount 53) and forward (51). One of the carrier’s big Sikorsky SH-3 Sea King ASW helicopters is flying by in the right foreground, and another destroyer is in the left distance. Photographer: AN Thomas J. Parrett. NH 107007
Speaking of the Med, Greene would make another four deployments there between 1968 and 1972– and on two of them job into the Persian Gulf/Indian Ocean to show the flag in the increasingly important region. This included a seven-month goodwill cruise with the U.S. Middle East Force in 1968 during which she was the first U.S. ship to enter the new Iranian port of Bander Abbas, doing the Shah’s Navy the courtesy of charting the harbor from end to end with her advanced sonar.
Earning “blue noses” for her crew, she also took part in Operation Deep Freeze ’69 in the Antarctic and two North Atlantic cruises that crossed the Arctic Circle. Warming up, she went to Latin America once again in UNITAS ’68.
War! (This time for real)
Greene, being a top-of-the-line ASW boat post FRAM mods, also sailed to the Pacific to take part in a West Pac deployment (June-December 1966) to Vietnamese waters, shipping via the Panama Canal, Pearl Harbor, Guam, Subic Bay, and Hong Kong to take up station as a plane guard alongside the carrier USS Constellation (CVA-64) on 28 July.
There she remained for a month at sea, every day closing to within 4,000 yards with a rescue detail at the ready in case one of Conny’s birds went into the drink, all the while her sonar techs kept an ear out for anything funny in the depths.
USS Constellation (CVA-64), the third ship named for the configuration of 15 stars on the original United States Flag shows an A-4 Skyhawk given landing instructions by a technical crewman using the Landing Signal Officer’s (LSO) console as the LSO watches, October 1966. Greene was her primary plane guard during a good part of Conny’s 1966 Far East Cruise (12 May–3 December) with CVW-15 on board during which 16 aircrewmen and 15 aircraft were lost in operations. K-33638
This lifeguard work paused on 21 August when Greene was dispatched to close to the South Vietnam littoral under control of Task Unit 70.8.9 where she stood by in the Republic of Vietnam’s I Corps area on call for naval gunfire support missions. Over the next five days, her gunners got in lots of work as she steamed as close as 2,000 yards from shore answering NGFS calls with 311 rounds of HE and WP and providing 90 nighttime star shell illumination for friendly outposts. She was credited with annihilating an enemy base camp, wiping out a platoon-sized element of infiltrators in the open, and destroying several enemy supply buildings.
A sampling from her deck log:
Headed back to Yankee Station after rearming while underway, she worked alongside the carrier USS Coral Sea for the rest of her deployment until she slipped her port shaft in October and had to limp into Tse Ying, Taiwan, for a quick fix that would get her to Subic Bay. Returning to Norfolk in December via the Suez and the Med, Greene ended up circumnavigating the globe in a 205-day around-the-world deployment.
In short, her 27-year career with the U.S. Navy was diverse and, well, just remarkably busy. It was little surprise one of her lasting nicknames was “The Steamin’ Greene.”
But all good things must come to an end and on 31 August 1971, with Greene almost eight promised years to the dot past her FRAM I service life extension, she was decommissioned.
A second life
With the general post-WWII rapprochement between a still very fascist Franco and the Western allies, the 1953 Madrid agreements thawed the chill between the U.S. and the country, opening it to military aid in return for basing.
In many ways, the Spanish fleet by the late 1960s, was very American.
These were soon joined by five FRAM I Gearing class destroyers, starting with USS Eugene A. Greene (DD/DDR-711) in 1972. By this time, the Spanish were also slated to get five new-made Baleares-class frigates, variants of the Knox class destroyer escort/fast frigates updated with Standard SAM suites.
Greene, still on the Navy List, was loaned to Spain the same day she was decommissioned. Renamed Churruca (D61) she honored RADM Cosme Damián Churruca y Elorza, who was lost on his ship-of-the-line San Juan Nepomuceno at Trafalgar in 1805.
Muerte de Cosme Damián Churruca (detalle), Eugenio Álvarez Dumont
Stricken from the U.S. Navy List on 2 June 1975 three years after she joined the Spanish Navy, Greene was sold to Spain for a token fee and remained in service with the force through the 1980s, class leader of her 11th Destroyer Division sisters. To be fair, although they were 30 years old, these FRAM I Gearings in the 1970s and 80s were still capable against Russki Whiskey, Romeo and Foxtrot-type smoke boats and their guns still worked enough for old-school NGFS should the large Spanish naval infantry need fire missions.
Period photos of Churruca show her still very much in her prime.
With the Cold War ending, so did the Gearings worldwide. Churruca was stricken by Spain on 15 September 1989, and disposed of in a SINKEX in 1991.
Sent to the bottom by a mixture of ordnance from Spanish Air Force F-18s and Spanish Navy AV-8 Matadors as well as some Standard missiles and Harpoons, her death was captured on grainy video, much like a snuff film.
Her four sisters in Spanish service (Gravina, ex-USS Furse; Méndez Núñez, ex-USS O’Hare; Lángara, ex-USS Leary; and Blas de Lezo, ex-USS Noa) were all disposed of within another year.
Of her massive armada of 98 Gearing-class sisterships that were completed, 10 survive above water in one form or another including three largely inactive hulls in the navies of Mexico and Taiwan. The others are museum ships overseas except for USS Joseph P. Kennedy, Jr. (DD-850) in Fall River, Massachusetts; and the USS Orleck (DD-886) in Jacksonville. Please visit these vital floating maritime relics.
Orleck, fresh out of dry dock, being towed to her new home in Jacksonville
Ships are more than steel and wood And heart of burning coal, For those who sail upon them know That some ships have a soul.
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80 years ago today: The heavy cruiserUSS Minneapolis (CA-36) is seen bombarding Butaritari Island, Makin Atoll, on 20 November 1943, shortly before U.S. Army forces landed there as part of Operation Galvanic. Guns firing are from the cruiser’s starboard side 5″/25-caliber Mk 19 secondary battery. The simultaneous discharge of these guns indicates that they are firing under remote control.
(NHHC: 80-G-202518)
Her guns, as well as the rest of the bombardment force and the planes screening them, did fine work, apparently.
Wrecked facilities on Butaritari Island, Makin Atoll, on 20 November 1943, following the pre-invasion bombardment. Seen from a USS MINNEAPOLIS (CA-36) plane, on Chong’s wharf is in the center background, with bomb craters and wrecked buildings nearby. Note trucks by their garage in the lower center. 80-G-216785
U.S. Army casualties to seize the island were relatively light, with 64 killed and 150 wounded and the fighting soon over on Makin.
A New Orleans-class cruiser, Minneapolis was designed as a light cruiser but was redesignated as a heavy before she was commissioned in 1934. “Minnie” earned an impressive 16 battle stars in WWII across 25 combat engagements, but that didn’t save her from the breakers. She was sold for scrap, on 14 August 1959, after spending 12 years in mothballs.
US Coast Guard-manned LCVP landing craft carried invasion troops toward Luzon in Lingayen Gulf, 9 Jan 1945
PA31-17, a humble 36-foot long LCVP (Landing Craft, Vehicle, and Personnel), or “Higgins boat” after the New Orleans manufacturer that churned them out by the thousands (23,000 to be exact) in WWII, was found derelict on the shores of Shasta Lake in fall 2021.
The thing is, although it was old and damaged, it was still in more or less original condition, still with lots of her Higgins-installed mahogany including the original paint on the ramp.
Further, it turned out that PA31-17, assigned throughout the war to the Crescent City class attack transport USS Monrovia (AP-64), landed troops on the beach in seven different campaigns– Sicily, Tarawa, Kwajalein, Saipan (the last three with Devil Dogs of the 2nd Marine Division), Guam (77th Infantry Division), Luzon (96th Infantry then 1st Cavalry Division) and Okinawa (6th Marine Division).
Acquired by the Nebraska National Guard Museum in Columbus, Nebraska—the birthplace of Andrew Higgins, the organization made the move to protect it, not restore it.
So who do you get to stabilize an 80-year-old combat veteran wooden landing craft? A 75-year-old combat veteran woodworker, that’s who. Eric Hollenbeck with Blue Ox Millworks in Eureka, California took on the two-month task and it is documented in The Craftsman – Preserving the Last Higgins Boat, which I just saw online on Max but it is out there on other platforms as well.
From yesterday’s DOD contracts, a future 5th America-class amphibious assault ship, LHA-10:
Huntington Ingalls Inc., Pascagoula, Mississippi, is awarded a $130,000,000 not-to-exceed undefinitized contract action for advance procurement of long lead time material and associated engineering and design activities in support of one Amphibious Assault Ship (General Purpose) Replacement (LHA(R)) Flight 1 Ship (LHA 10). Work will be performed in Beloit, Wisconsin (36%); Pascagoula, Mississippi (32%); Brunswick, Georgia (26%); and Walpole, Massachusetts (6%). Work is expected to be completed by July 2028. Fiscal 2023 shipbuilding and conversion, Navy funding in the amount of $130,000,000 will be obligated at award and will not expire at the end of the current fiscal year. This contract was not competitively procured. This contract is awarded based on 10 U.S. Code 3204(a)(1) only one responsible source and no other supplies or services will satisfy agency requirements. Naval Sea Systems Command, Washington, D.C., is the contracting activity (N00024-24-C-2467).
The reason for the big outlay is that these are essentially aircraft carriers– they would be in any other navy in history– and they cost upwards of $1 billion to construct in a period spanning a half-decade (provided there are no pandemics, hiring issues, or supply chain issues) to build.
Via Ingalls:
The 844-foot LHA 6 America class amphibious assault ship takes approximately five years to build. Its construction consists of 216 structural units, requiring 170 erection lifts, including grand blocks, plus two lifts to set the deckhouse on board (the main house, followed by smaller forward section). These blocks are built on land, starting with the ship’s midsection, and later moved to drydock for launch by translation cars.
Two main turbines provide 70,000 shaft horsepower. Additionally, LHA 6 has a separate source of propulsion, a unique electrical auxiliary propulsion system (APS) that was designed for fuel efficiency. The APS uses two induction-type auxiliary propulsion motors powered from the ship’s electrical grid. America-class ships include 1,000 miles of electrical cable, 431,000 feet of pipe and enough hull insulation to cover 40 acres.
Since the class leader was laid down in 2009, the Navy has taken possession of just two of these vessels (USS America LHA 6 and USS Tripoli LHA 7) — both Flight 0 ships without well decks.
The first Flight I ship, (PCU Bougainville LHA 8) with the standard LHA/LHD style well deck to support LCACs and LCUs as well as a host of smaller boats just transitioned to the water of the Pascagoula River and is set to christen on 2 December and commission sometime next year.
Meanwhile, PCU Fallujah (LHA 9) was only just laid down in September, meaning there will be a gap from 2024-2028 where no LHAs are delivered.
The “Replacement” designation for (LHA(R)) Flight 1 Ship (LHA 10) comes as it is planned to fill the gap left by the scrapped and very similar Pascagoula-built Wasp-class LHD USS Bonhomme Richard which, instead of rejoining the fleet after a mid-life refit in 2020, was decommissioned due to a very preventable fire that hopefully a lot of folks learned some stuff from.
200712-N-BL599-1044 SAN DIEGO (July 12, 2020) Port of San Diego Harbor Police Department boats combat a fire onboard USS Bonhomme Richard (LHD 6) at Naval Base San Diego, July 12. On the morning of July 12, a fire was called away aboard the ship while it was moored pier side at Naval Base San Diego. Local, base and shipboard firefighters responded to the fire. USS Bonhomme Richard is going through a maintenance availability, which began in 2018. (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 3rd Class Christina Ross)
The seven remaining Wasps, which the Americas were supposed to eventually replace, are getting older by the day, with USS Wasp herself currently 34 years old and even the newest member, USS Makin Island (LHD-8) just marking her 14th year in the fleet.
The Navy has a love/hate relationship with these big ‘phib hulls, but even new math saw they are running low, with only 9 semi-available now, and pulling the punch when it comes to buying more.
Meanwhile, the forward-based 12th Marines just became the 12th Marine Littoral Regiment and will be packing up everything that isn’t anti-ship truck-related with beachfront delivery to be made by a force of 35 (!) yet-to-be-built Landing Ship–Mediums (LSMs), which are basically just an updated 1940s LCI/LST, although not as heavily armed.
The first salute to the flag of the nascent United States was received in Oranje Bay by the Colonial Navy Brig-of-War Andrew Dorea (14 guns), an 11-gun return fired from Dutch-held Fort Oranje on the island of Sint Eustatius (Statia) in the Netherlands Antilles on 16 November 1776. Governor-Commander Johannes de Graaff, who had only assumed his post in September and opened his colony to American ships, would welcome Dorea’s skipper, Captain Isaiah Robinson, who had arrived at the Dutch Caribbean island under orders of the Secret Committee to obtain munitions and military supplies. Robinson would leave behind a Philadelphia-printed copy of the Declaration of Independence.
First official salute to the American flag on board an American warship in a foreign port, 16 November 1776. Painting by Phillips Melville, depicting Continental Brig Andrew Doria receiving a salute from the Dutch fort at St. Eustatius, West Indies, 16 November 1776. The artist shows the “Grand Union” flag flying at Andrew Doria’s stern and foremast peak. Courtesy of the U.S. Navy Art Collection, Washington, D.C. Donation of Colonel Phillips Melville, USMC (Retired), 1977. Photo #: NH 85510-KN (color).
As described by Barbara Tuchman, The First Salute, A View of the American Revolution, 1988:
White puffs of gun smoke over a turquoise sea followed by the boom of cannon rose from the unassuming port on the diminutive Dutch island of St. Eustatius in the West Indies on 16 November 1776. The guns of Fort Orange on St. Eustatius were returning the ritual salute on entering a foreign port of an American vessel, the Andrew Doria, as she came up the roadstead, flying at her mast the red-and-white-striped flag of the Continental Congress. In its responding salute, the small voice of St. Eustatius was the first to officially greet the largest event of the century – the entry into the society of nations of a new Atlantic state destined to change the direction of history
The thing is, our story soon turned sour for many of those involved. Dorea, despite a victory at sea over the British 12-gun sloop-of-war Racehorse after a two-hour engagement near Puerto Rico on the return trip back to Philadelphia, would be burned to prevent capture during the fall of the City of Brotherly Love in 1777, and Robinson would pass under cloudy circumstances in 1781
The same year as Robinson’s death, the Royal Navy would make the Dutch pay for their salute and assistance to the Colonials, with ADM George Bridges Rodney forcing the surrender of Sint Eustatius in February 1781, saying:
This rock, of only six miles in length and three in breadth, has done England more harm than all the arms of her most potent enemies and alone supported the infamous rebellion. When I leave the island of St. Eustatius, it will be as barren a rock as the day it erupted from the sea. Instead of one of the greatest emporiums on earth, it will be a mere desert and known only by report.
As Rodney had 15 ships of the line and 3,000 sailors and marines, vs De Graaff’s 60 soldiers and 12 guns at Fort Oranje, the pillaging was a done deal and the British occupied the ravaged island for three years. De Graaff, who had been recalled to Holland to defend his actions in recognizing the American brig, would return to the island and rebuild his Graavindal estate, where he would die in 1813.
In 1939, with FDR embarked on USS Houston (CA-30) for Fleet Problem XX, the U.S. Navy and its biggest presidential champion stopped by the island and marked the “First Salute” in ceremony.
The event has often been revisited by passing U.S. Navy assets.
USS Richard K. Kraus (DD-849) during the commemoration of the first salute to the flag of the United States onboard US Brig-of-War Andrew Dorea, fired from the fort of Saint Eustatius (Netherlands Antilles) on 16 November 1776. Richard E. Kraus is answering the salute of the fort, 185 years later on 16 November 1961. NHHC Catalog #: S-524-G
Warship Wednesday (on a Thursday) Nov. 16, 2023: The Darkest Twist
Official USN photo probably by Tai Sing Loo, courtesy of George & Linda Salava. This photo was from the collection of FC3 Frank Salava who was lost when the Sculpin (SS-191) was sunk & 62 other crewmen were K.I.A. on 19 November 1943. Via Navsource
Above we see the S-type (Sargo-class) fleet boat USS Sculpin (SS-191) entering Pearl Harbor sometime between April 1940 and October 1941, in tense but happy times. Note the bright white pre-war pennant numbers on her fairwater. Sculpin would soon be at war, one that she would not emerge.
The Sargo class
The 10 early fleet boats of the Sargo class came in the wake of the half-dozen very similar Salmon class vessels (indeed, they are typically referred to as the “S-Class 2nd Group”) and 10 early 1930s Porpoise class boats, which paved the way for the Navy to get the long-range Pacific submarine design nailed down in the follow-on Tambor, Gato (85 boats), Balao (134 boats), and Tench (29 boat) classes. Importantly, their new and improved battery design would become the standard for American diesel boats through the 1950s when they were replaced by the Sargo II batteries under the GUPPY program.
View of some of the Sargo-type battery cells as seen through a floor hatch aboard the museum ship, the Balao-class submarine USS Ling (SS-297), located in Hackensack, New Jersey. Photo date 31 Aug 2013 “Instead of a single hard rubber case, it had two concentric hard rubber cases with a layer of soft rubber between them. This was to prevent sulfuric acid leakage in the event one case cracked during depth-charging. Leaking sulfuric acid is capable of corroding steel, burning the skin of crew members it came into contact with, and if mixed with any seawater in the bilges would generate poisonous chlorine gas.”
Some 2,300 tons (submerged) the Sargos ran 310 feet overall, a foot shorter than the much more prolific Gatos.
Capable of making 21 knots on the surface and with a range of 11,000 nm, they had an operational depth of over 250 feet and carried an impressive main battery of eight (four forward, four aft) 21-inch torpedo tubes and the ability to carry 24 torpedoes. Meanwhile, the deck gun was a puny 3″/50 DP wet mount (which was later replaced by a bigger 4″50 later in the war).
The 10 Sargos were all given aquatic names beginning with “S” and were built by EB in Groton (Sargo, Saury, Spearfish, Seadragon and Sealion), Mare Island Navy Yard (Swordfish) and Portsmouth Navy Yard in Maine (Sculpin, Squalus, Searaven, and Seawolf) on an extremely compressed timeline with the first being laid down in May 1937 and the last commissioning in December 1939– just 31 months. Not bad for peacetime production.
Launch of Sargo-class submarine USS Swordfish (SS-193) at Mare Island Navy Yard, California on April 1st, 1939. This is the earliest known color Official Navy Photograph that can be precisely dated.
Still, the class was cramped, with just 36 bunks for 62 enlisted men.
Meet Scuplin
Our subject is the first Navy ship to be named in honor of the “spiny, large-headed, broad-mouthed, usually scale-less fish of the family Cottidae” and was laid down on 7 September 1937 at Portsmouth, launched on 27 July 1938, and commissioned on 16 January 1939.
Sculpin launched
No sooner had she begun her career than, while on shakedown, Sculpin was tasked with finding lost classmate (and yard mate) USS Squalus (SS-192),which had suffered a catastrophic valve failure during a test dive off the Isle of Shoals at 0740 on 23 May, drowning 26 men immediately. Partially flooded, Squalus sank to the bottom and came to rest, keel down, in 40 fathoms of water with 32 surviving crewmembers and one civilian trapped in the forward section.
USS Squalus Sweating It Out. Painting, Watercolor, and Ink on Paper; by John Groth; 1966; Unframed Dimensions 26H X 36W NHHC Accession #: 88-161-QX
At 1040, when Squalus was an hour overdue for regular check-in, the red flag went up.
Luckily, Sculpin was due to leave Portsmouth for Newport at 1130 and was directed to the last known position of Squalus.
Fixing the sub’s position via sonar, Sculpin stood by while the Navy’s Experimental Dive Unit own Allan Rockwell McCann and Charles Bowers Momsen arrived on the old Great War Lapwing-class minesweeper-turned-submarine rescue ship USS Falcon (AM-28/ASR-2) and a swarm of Coast Guard assets to begin the rescue.
Aerial photograph showing, from left to right, fleet tug USS Wandank, submarine USS Sculpin, submarine rescue ship USS Falcon, naval shipyard tug Penacook, and Lighthouse Service tender Hibiscus, in addition to Coast Guard boats and spectator boats. USCG Photo 230717-G-ZW188-2000
Four enlisted divers using then-new heliox diving schedules and the McCann Submarine Rescue Chamber (SRC) ran constantly for 14 hours making four trips down to Squalus’s forward trunk, rescuing all 33 survivors.
A fifth trip was made to the Squalus’s after torpedo room hatch to verify that no men survived in the flooded portion of the boat — one of the most stirring successes in submarine rescue operations.
The four enlisted divers– Chief Boatswain’s Mate Orson L. Crandall, Chief Metalsmith James Harper McDonald, Chief Machinist’s Mate William Badders, and Chief Torpedoman John Mihalowski — received rare peacetime Medals of Honor in January 1940.
Squalus was eventually raised in July 1939 with the help of Sculpin and repaired, and was put back into service as USS Sailfish, with the same hull number (SS-192). More on her later.
Submarine Sculpin Lying off the Port Beam of the Salvage Ship Falcon, Assisting with Pumping Operations through a Hose Line. NARA
View from the USS Sculpin of the Raising of the Pontoons Attached to the Bow of the USS Squalus. NARA
USN 1149026
Salvage of USS Squalus (SS-192). USS Falcon (ASR-2) moored over the sunken Squalus, during salvage operations off the New Hampshire coast in the Summer of 1939. USS Sculpin (SS-191) is in the right background. USN 1149028
War!
Sculpin and her class were built for the looming war in the Pacific and, as soon as she wrapped up her duty in the Squalus rescue and raising, she was off to Pearl Harbor, arriving there in April 1940 via “The Ditch” and San Diego. Operating from Hawaii with the Pacific Fleet, with tensions bubbling up with the Empire of Japan, she was forward deployed 5,100 miles West to Admiral Thomas Hart’s Asiatic Fleet in the Philippines in late October, arriving at Cavite Navy Yard on 8 November to join Submarine Division 22.
A month later the war got real.
Just after the inaugural Japanese air raids from Formosa, Sculpin and her sister USS Seawolf (SS-197) got underway from Cavite on 8 December 1941 to escort the old aircraft carrier Langley (then used as an aircraft transport, pennant AV-3), and the precious oilers USS Pecos (AO–6) and USS Trinity (AO-13) from the yard off Sangley Point that evening, clearing the American minefield and zig-zagging through the Verde Island Passage with her skipper noting “Langley used general signals freely, probably unaware that we have landed the greater part of our classified publications.”
Handing Langley and the two irreplaceable tankers to the four-piper destroyers USS Pope (DD-225) and USS John D. Ford (DD-228) the next morning to shepherd further to Dutch Borneo, the Sculpin and Seawolf separated and embarked on their first war patrols. They made it out of Cavite just in time as it was attacked on the morning of 10 December by 80 Japanese bombers and 52 fighter planes, destroying it as a base for the Asiatic Fleet and leaving 500 dead. Among the shattered vessels left at Cavite was Sargo-class sister USS Sealion (SS-195).
Sculpin conducted her patrol like clockwork, submerging just before dawn in her assigned zone north of Luzon, patrolling slowly on her electric motors at 100 feet down, surfacing at dusk, and remaining on the surface all night with lookouts. She was plagued with mechanical issues, suffering a freon leak in her refrigerator, shipping water from her No. 7 torpedo tube, and her fathometer called it quits on the fourth day of the war. Worse, she was beset with a lack of targets, only encountering the occasional passing local sampans and coasters.
On 10 January, she came across a juicy target, a 10-ship Japanese convoy off the Surigao Strait. She worked close enough to get a bead on a big freighter thought to have been of the Shoei Maru type and fired four torpedoes with two believed to have been hits.
While DANFS lists this as “possibly Sculpin should be given credit for eliminating 3,817-ton merchantman, Akita Maru” it is generally thought that that vessel, an Army transport, was sunk the same day some distance away at the mouth of the Gulf of Siam along with the cargo ship Tairyu Maru by the hard-charging Dutch sub Hr.Ms. O-19.
Sculpin ended her 1st patrol on 22 January 1942 at Surabaya, Java, having sailed some 6,921 miles.
Her 2nd war patrol started a week later, leaving Java to patrol the Celebes in the south Philippines on 30 January. There, on 4 February, she torpedoed and damaged the Japanese destroyer Suzukazeoff Staring Bay, south of Kendari, Celebes. Suzukaze was heavily damaged, with nine of her crew killed, and was knocked out of the war for five months. Two days later she attacked and sank what was reported to be a “heavily screened Tenry-class enemy cruiser.”
Sculpin had a third run on a convoy spoiled by a grueling depth charge attack on 17 February– with the explosions jamming the steering and stern planes of the boat forcing her to a near-crush depth of 340 feet, and ending her patrol to seek repairs at Exmouth Bay, Australia.
Her third patrol, begun from Australia in March after she had been roughly patched up, included three attacks made while in patrol off the Moluccas while struggling with a new radar installation and faulty torpedoes. She steamed 7,895 miles in 21 days, about 80 percent of that on the surface.
With the war just over four months old, and most of that spent running and fighting in Japanese-controlled waters, constantly shifting homeports further and further south, her crew was at the breaking point.
Her 4th war patrol, in the South China Sea from 29 May to 17 July, would be even longer, stretching 9,349 miles.
Her 5th patrol would be her most successful, leaving Brisbane on 8 September to patrol in the target-rich Bismarck Sea with the Solomons Campaign underway. She torpedoed and damaged the Japanese seaplane carrier Nisshineast of Kokoda Island off New Britain on 28 September and was damaged by depth charges but was able to continue her patrol, going on to sink the troop transports Naminoue Maru (4731 GRT) and Sumiyoshi Maru (1921 GRT) in early October before arriving back at Brisbane on 26 October then made a run on the light cruiser Yura without success.
The tactics had changed, with 42 of 48 days of her 5th war patrol spent with at least some time submerged, cruising some 8,594 miles.
Her 6th patrol, off Truk in the Caroline Islands from 18 November through the end of the year, netted no trophies– although she did stalk a Japanese flattop on the surface at night and earn some bracketing shell fire as a participation award– after ending it on 8 January 1943 at Pearl Harbor, she sailed back to the West Coast for a much-needed overhaul.
At this point in her career, she carried 13 enemy ships on her Jolly Roger.
“Undersea Hunters Mark Up 13 Victories. They found good hunting. Back at a Pacific base after a cruise in enemy waters, officers and crew of the Sculpin (SS-191) display a flag symbolic of three Japanese warships and ten merchantmen sent to the bottom.” Crew photo taken 7 March 1943. The men are from left to right, (Front Row) Carlos Tulea, 29, OS2c (officers steward) of Cavite, P.I.; Lt Corwin G. Mendenhall, USN, 26, of Anehuac, Texas; Weldon E. Moore, Chief Signalman, 34, of Colorado Springs. Colorado;(KIA), Lt. John H. Turner, USN, 29. (Back Row) John J. Pepersack, Chief Electrician, 42 of Baltimore, MD; A. W. Coulter, QM3/c, 20, of St. Louis, MO; K. E. Waidelich, SM3c, 21, of Jackson, Michigan; Charlie Coleman, MoMM2c, 24, Philadelphia, PA (KIA); John Swift, EM1c, 25, of Newfane, NY; John J. Hollenbach, MM1c, 27 of Brookville, ID; Ralph S. Austin, MM2c, 21, of Springtown, TX; F. J. Dyboske, CEM, 33, of Rockford, IL; C. A. De Armond, MM1c, 30, of Denver CO. Text i.d. courtesy of Ric Hednan. (Official U. S. Navy photo from NEA). Image and text provided by the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill Library, Chapel Hill, NC. Photo & text by The Wilmington Morning Star. (Wilmington, N.C.) 1909-1990, 10 March 1943, FINAL EDITION, Image 1, courtesy of chroniclingamerica.loc.gov.
A better version of the above image.
Her refit left her with a series of great images of her late-war appearance, including moving her 3-inch popgun forward of the tower.
USS Sculpin (SS-191) At the Bethlehem Steel Company shipyard, San Francisco, California, on 1 May 1943, following an overhaul. This view of the forward end of her sail identifies changes recently made to the ship. Note 20mm and 3/50 guns: SD and SJ radar antennas. NH 97305
USS Sculpin (SS-191) At the Bethlehem Steel Company shipyard, San Francisco, California, on 1 May 1943, following an overhaul. This view of the after end of her sail identifies changes recently made to the ship. Note 20mm gun, SD and SJ radar antennas. The Coast Guard lighthouse tender Balsam (WAGL-62) is in the floating drydock in the right background. NH 97306
USS Sculpin (SS-191) In San Francisco Bay, California, on 1 May 1943, following an overhaul. The San Francisco Bay Bridge is in the background. NH 97303
Same as above, NH 97302
Back in the war, she started her 7th war patrol from Pearl Harbor on 24 May, bound for Japanese home waters where she stalked the light carrier Hiyo and sank two small vessels via naval gunfire off Inubozak, ending her patrol on Independence Day in Midway.
Her 8th war patrol, leaving Midway on 25 July, would span some 9,074 miles of ocean and she claimed a 4,000-ton AK sunk– postwar confirmed as the cargo ship Sekko Maru (3183 GRT) — off Formosa. Returning to Midway on 17 September, LT Chappell, who had earned two Navy Crosses on Sculpin, would leave the boat he had commanded since April 1941 to command Submarine Division 281.
Chappell survived the war and later had command of Submarine Squadron 7, USS Mt. McKinley (AGC-7), and the cruiser USS Quincy (CA-71) — ironic considering he claimed at least two attacks on Japanese cruisers during the war. While a rear admiral, he served as the technical advisor to films The Wackiest Ship in the Army and Operation Petticoat, the latter in which the USS Balao (SS 285) was painted pink. He passed away in 1980.
Sculpin’s new skipper, LCDR Fred “Fee” Connaway (USNA 1932), formerly XO and skipper of the training boats USS S-13 (SS-118) and USS S-48 (SS 159), took over on 20 October.
Two weeks later, with a third of her 84 men aboard sailing to war for the first time, on 5 November, Sculpin left Pearl Harbor for her 9th war patrol in a wolf pack (err, “Submarine Coordinated Attack Group”) with two other submarines (Searaven and Apagon), ordered to patrol north of Truk, to intercept and attack Japanese forces leaving that stronghold to oppose the planned Allied invasion of the Tarawa in the Gilbert Islands.
The wolf pack commodore’s flag, carried aboard Sculpin, was Captain John P. Cromwell (USNA 1924), formerly commander of Submarine Divisions 203, 44, and 43 and one of the stars of COMSUBPAC VADM Charles Lockwood’s staff. He had been an officer in the Bureau of Engineering/BuShips in Washington for two years concerning submarine development and was the Engineering officer for the Pacific Fleet’s Sub force. In short, if it was submarine-related, he knew it including details of performance, construction, machinery, communications, and exploitable flaws. Plus, he was privy to Ultra intercept secrets.
Sculpin, Connaway, and Cromwell would never come back, with the submarine reported missing in November, presumed lost on 30 December, and struck from the Navy list on 25 March 1944.
The Tragic End
Post-VJ Day, Allied rescuers recovered 21 members of Sculpin’s final crew from Japanese prison camps working the copper mines of Ashio, mostly junior enlisted but including one officer (Diving officer LT George E Brown., Jr.– who was kept in solitary confinement when not being interrogated, put on reduced rations, given frequent beatings, and threatened with death if he refused to answer questions).
Pieced together from their interviews, the sub attacked a Japanese convoy on the night of 18 November, but it all went pear-shaped and by the next morning, she was battered and headed to the mat, racing down to 700 feet at one point. This led ultimately to a last-ditch surface gunfight with the Japanese destroyer Yamagumo at point-blank range.
0640 Sighted enemy submarine (USS SCULPIN) surfacing on the port beam, and seeing it submerge begins a series of alternate depth-charge and pinging runs.
1109 the damaged submarine accidentally broaches the surface, and the destroyer intensifies the attack.
1256 The SCULPIN surfaces, being crippled and unable to stay submerged. The submarine opts for a desperate gunfire duel with its starboard side facing YAMAGUMO’s starboard side as they exchange fire at 2,000 yards.
1307 The submarine is listing and the destroyer ceases fire and ten minutes later dispatches rescue boats as the scuttled submarine submerges for the last time in what looked to her survivors almost like a normal dive. Forty-one survivors are rescued, and YAMAGUMO returns to Truk with them.
As detailed by the NHHC:
About noon on 19 November, a close string of 18 depth charges threw Sculpin, already at deep depth, badly out of control. The pressure hull was distorted, she was leaking, the steering and diving plane gear were damaged and she was badly out of trim. Commander Connaway decided to surface and to fight clear.
The ship was surfaced and went to gun action.
During the battle Commander Connaway and the Gunnery Officer were on the bridge, and the Executive Officer was in the conning tower. When the destroyer placed a shell through the main induction and one or more through the conning tower, these officers and several men were killed. Lt. Brown succeeded to command. He decided to scuttle the ship, and gave the order “all hands abandon ship.” After giving the order the last time the ship was dived at emergency speed by opening all vents.
About 12 men rode the ship down, including Captain Cromwell and one other officer, both of whom refused to leave it. Captain Cromwell, being familiar with plans for our operations in the Gilberts and other areas, stayed with the ship to ensure that the enemy could not gain any of the information he possessed.
The Japanese pulled 42 men from the ocean, tossed one back overboard that was seriously wounded, and landed 3 officers and 38 men at Truk for rough questioning.
Separating these into two groups for transport to Japan, the first, consisting of 21 men, was in the brig of the escort carrier Chuyo when she was sunk by the Sailfish (SS-192) — ironically the old Squalus that Sculpin had been so key in rescuing and raising in 1939.
Only one wounded American made it off Chuyo, George Rocek, MoMMIc, USN, who was rescued by a Japanese destroyer (again) only to be sent to join the rest of his crewmates in the Ashio copper mines, who had made it safely to Japan in the brig of the carrier Un’yō. The mines also held survivors from the lost American subs USS Grenadier, Perch, Sculpin, Tang, S-44, and Tullibee.
Sculpin was awarded eight battle stars for her service in World War II, in addition to the Philippine Presidential Unit Citation. Her wartime tally, not entirely confirmed by post-war records, was sinking 9 ships for 42,200 tons and damaging 10, totaling 63,000 tons.
Epilogue
Sculpin is one of 52 U.S. submarines lost in WWII-– almost one out of five subs that logged combat patrols– taking with them 374 officers and 3,131 enlisted men. These personnel losses represented 16 percent of the officers and 13 percent of the enlisted operational personnel in the submarine branch.
Her final desperate stand is remembered in maritime art.
DUE 117: USN Submarine vs IJN Antisubmarine Escort,’ illustrated by Ian Palmer, shows the death of USS Sculpin, via Osprey Publications.
The 1950s TV show “Silent Service” had an episode devoted to Sculpin, including a guest appearance by LT Brown.
The reports for the first eight of her patrols are in the National Archives.
Considered to be on Eternal Patrol, Sculpin and her lost crew are thus remembered in several memorials nationwide. Her sisters Seawolf, Sealion, and Swordfish are also among the 52.
Their names are inscribed on a memorial at the USS Albacore Museum in New Hampshire. (Photo: Chris Eger)
When it came to the rest of the 10-boat Sargo class, they were disposed of shortly after the war as obsolete, all sold for scrap or sunk as targets before their 10th birthdays. They claimed no less than 73 enemy ships during the war and chalked up 84 battle stars between them. Class member Seawolf (SS-197) is tied for seventh place in confirmed ships sunk by U.S. subs, according to the postwar accounting of the Joint Army–Navy Assessment Committee (JANAC).
LT Brown earned a November 1945 Silver Star for his performance during Sculpin’s doomed final patrol. He had made five runs with USS S-40, and four on Sculpin, filling his dance card long before he spent the last 23 months of the war in a hellish series of POW camps.
First-Class Motor Machinist’s Mate George Rocek passed in 2007, aged a ripe old 86, having seen some serious shit including being in the unenviable position of being rescued twice by the Japanese from the sea.
Cromwell, the wolf pack commander who had served on ADM Lockwood’s staff and whose head was filled with Ultra intercept secrets that he took to the bottom with him, would be recommended for and receive the Medal of Honor, posthumously, and the destroyer escort USS Cromwell (DE-1014), commissioned in 1954, was named in his honor.
He was the most senior submariner to earn the MOH and LT Brown, the last man to see him alive, recalled him “sitting on an empty 20mm shell container, holding a picture of his wife and children” as Sculpin was going down.
Cromwell’s wife, Margaret, received his Medal of Honor with it being placed on his son John P. “Duke” Cromwell, Jr. (USNA ’51, ret Capt.) by VADM Richard S. Edwards (USNA 1907), commander of Western Sea Frontier.
Cromwell’s sacrifice has been well recorded in naval lore, from comic books to novels and tomes of military history. He and Connaway is remembered in Memorial Hall at the United States Naval Academy where his name is engraved under the “DONT GIVE UP THE SHIP” flag honoring those alumni killed in action.
Vignette gives details on why Captain Cromwell received the Medal of Honor for actions taken during the loss of USS Sculpin on 19 November 1943, by Mario DeMarco, published in the Navy Times circa 1956. NH 86993
“There is a port of no return-” Captain John P. Cromwell goes down with the stricken Sculpin (SS-191) to prevent seizure and possible enemy extortion of special information confided to his care. The sea will keep his secret well, and his name will become a naval synonym for valor. “Sailor, rest your oar-” Drawing by Lt. Cmdr. Fred Freemen, courtesy of Theodore Roscoe, from his book “U.S. Submarine Operations of WW II”, published by USNI, via Navsource.
OAAW #239 1971 by Norman Maurer
OAAW #239 1971 by Norman Maurer
As for Sculpin, while plans for a Tench class submarine to carry her name onward failed when the war ended, about the only tangible part of her is the eight-patrol Jolly Roger battle flag presented by the crew to LT (later RADM) Chappell when he left the boat in 1943.
It is cherished and maintained by his family. Photo courtesy of Randy Chappell, son of Lt. Commander Lucius H Chappell, via PIGBOATs.
Fred Connaway, the skipper of Sculpin killed in her last surface engagement, was posthumously awarded the Silver Star. Fred’s widow, Loretta, was there with three former POWs of Sculpin’s last crew– including LT Brown– when the new Skipjack-class hunter-killer USS Sculpin (SSN-590)was launched in Pascagoula on 31 March 1960.
USS Sculpin (SS (N) -590) Sponsor and three survivors of the first SCULPIN. L to R: Mr. George Brown, Mrs. Fred Connaway, Mr. Paul L. Murphy, Mr. Billy M. Cooper NH 108726
USS Sculpin (SSN-590) launching, 31 March 1960 Ingalls east bank Pascagoula NH 108730
The second Sculpin served until 1990 then was decommissioned and recycled.
Ships are more than steel and wood And heart of burning coal, For those who sail upon them know That some ships have a soul.
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The 162-page fifth edition of the Special Operations Forces Reference Manualprovides general information on U.S. Army, Navy, Marine Corps, Air Force, and NATO Special Operations Forces (SOF). It provides an introduction to the SOF command structure and also contains text, charts, and graphics detailing SOF unit organization, equipment, and areas of responsibility.
Besides 14 pages of definitions and glossaries, the 10,000-foot view of organizational structure is in-depth and ready to nerd out over.
Any fan of aviation or naval history is familiar with this incredible image, that of a monstrous hangar filled with 150~ fresh and brand new F4U Corsairs and at least another 100 F6F Hellcats, plus a few random Helldivers, likely heading for points Pacific in WWII.
The image was inside one of the two wooden blimp hangars at Naval Air Station Santa Anita in Tustin, Orange County, California. Built in 1942 for the U.S. Navy’s Lighter Than Air Program, they were constructed of Douglas Fir, with each some 1,072 feet long, 292 feet wide, and 192 feet high.
Hangar construction with blimp in the air, Lighter Than Air (LTA) Base, 1942
Hangar construction of the roof, Lighter Than Air (LTA) Base, 1942
Hangar construction, Lighter Than Air (LTA) Base Tustin
Hangar Number One under construction, Lighter Than Air (LTA) Base, Tustin, 1943
Each was large enough to store six fully inflated K-class blimps.
Keep in mind a K blimp had a 425,000 cu ft volume and went 251 feet in length.
Or seven in a pinch.
After the war, when the LTA program was put to bed, the base became Marine Corps Air Station (MCAS) Tustin and was an important cradle for USMC helicopter operations in the Korean and Vietnam eras.
Aerial view of the Tustin MCAS blimp hangar and Tustin area, ca. 1960. Note the H-34s on the ground around the hangar
It hosted rotor-wing elements of the 3rd Marine Aircraft Wing into the early 1990s when it was hit by BRAC and closed in 1999.
Meanwhile, Hangars 1 and 2 endured and had been designated in 1975 as National Landmarks and placed on the National Register of Historic Places. Since then, they have appeared as backdrops in dozens of movies and TV shows.
Sadly, historic Hangar 1 met its end this week due to a fire. It was quick and couldn’t be contained.
Via the Tustin Police Department
Via the Tustin Police Department
Anyone with general questions can call the Tustin Police Department/OC Fire Authority hotline at (714) 628-7085.
Hopefully, Hangar 2 will continue to stand for another 81 years to offset the loss of its sister.
Photographed by Commander Edward Steichen, USNR. Official U.S. Navy Photograph 80-G-K-16053, now in the collections of the National Archives.
The above are (l-r): ENS WM. J. Seyfferle, LT(JG) A. R. Fizalkowski, LT(JG) A. L. Frendberg, LCDR (future RADM) Paul D. Buie (Commanding Officer), ENS John W. Bartol, LT(JG) Dean D. Whitmore, LT(JG) Francis M. Fleming, LT(JG) WM. C. B. Birkholm, LT(JG) Sven Rolfsen, Jr. plus two others not named in the group to the right of LCDR Buie. A F6F-3 Hellcat fighter is behind them. Note flight gear, markings on helmets, and life vests. The pilot at left wears an M1911 .45 caliber pistol on his belt in a leather flap holster just in case he was to become a member of “The Walking Club.”
The fifth warship (and second WWII flattop) to carry the name, Lady Lex had originally been laid down in July 1941 by Bethlehem Steel in Quincy in July 1941 while America was at an uneasy peace, with the intention she would be named USS Cabot. Instead, on 16 June 1942, just days after CV-2 was lost at the Battle of the Coral Sea, she picked up the mantle and was commissioned on 17 February 1943.
Her inaugural airwing would be Carrier Air Group 16, which had only been established on 16 November 1942 with all-new squadrons (VF-16, VT-16, VB-16, and VS-16). CAG-16 would remain with Lex until July 1945 and would earn their keep in November 1943.
As noted by DANFS:
After Caribbean shakedown and yard work at Boston, Lexington sailed for Pacific action via the Panama Canal, arriving at Pearl Harbor on 9 August 1943. She raided Tarawa in late September and Wake in October, then returned to Pearl Harbor to prepare for the Gilbert Islands operation. From 19 to 24 November, she made searches and flew sorties in the Marshalls, covering the landings in the Gilberts. Her aviators downed 29 enemy aircraft on 23 and 24 November.
A U.S. Navy Grumman F6F-3 Hellcat from Fighting Squadron VF-16, Carrier Air Group 16, goes down deck for take-off of the aircraft carrier USS Lexington (CV-16) during the Gilbert Islands campaign. Photographed by Commander Edward Steichen (U.S. Navy photo 80-G-471179)
Pilots of VF-16 celebrate after shooting down 17 Japanese aircraft in the Marshalls & Gilberts area on 23 November 1943. They are (l-r): Ensign WM. J. Seyfferle, Lieutenant Junior Grade A. R. Fizalkowski, Lieutenant Junior Grade A. L. Frendberg, Lieutenant Commander Paul D. Buie (Commanding Officer), Ensign John W. Bartol, Lieutenant Junior Grade Dean D. Whitmore, Lieutenant Junior Francis M. Fleming, Lieutenant Junior Grade WM. C. B. Birkholm, Lieutenant Junior Grade Sven Rolfsen, Jr. plus two others not named in the group to the right of Lieutenant Commander Buie. Planes are F6F-3s. Photographed by Commander Edward Steichen, USNR. 80-G-44598
Lexington received the Presidential Unit Citation and 11 battle stars for World War II service, served off Cuba during the Missile Crisis with CVG-3 aboard then, at the end of 1963, tapped out sistership USS Antietam (CV/CVS/AVT-36) as the aviation training carrier at Pensacola, a task she would keep up for the rest of the Cold War, remaining the last of her class on active duty– and the final wooden decked carrier in the U.S. Navy.
She logged more than 493,000 arrested landings between 1943 and 1991.
Navy photograph of USS Lexington (AVT-16) at Pensacola December 1991 before towing to Corpus
She is preserved in Corpus Christi, where she has rested since 1992, outliving CAG/CVW-16 by two decades and VF-16 by four.
