If you enjoy my always ad-free Warship Wednesday content, you can support it by buying me a cup of joe at https://buymeacoffee.com/lsozi As Henk says: “Warship Coffee – no sugar, just a pinch of salt!”
Warship Wednesday, October 15, 2025: One Tough Cat
Royal Navy official photographer Lt. SJ Beadell, IWM FL 7995
Above we see the armed merchant cruiser HMS Cheshire (F 18) in war paint at anchor at Greenock, 5 December 1942. Note her mixed battery of six 6-inch and two 3-inch guns arranged in tubs around her decks.
At the time, this grey lady had already caught and survived torpedoes from no less than two different U-boats and still had a lot of war left in her.
The Bibby 10,000 tonners
The Liverpool-based Bibby Line was founded in 1807 by the first John Bibby and continues to exist as one of the UK’s oldest family-owned shipping businesses. It’s Bibby Steam Ship Co., operating from 1891 with its flagship, the 3,870-ton Harland and Wolff-built SS Lancashire, recording the fastest time on the Burma run at 23 days and 20 hours.
Looking to grow and maintain its England to Burma service, Bibby ordered a new SS Lancashire, this one a stately 9,445-ton steamship, in 1914 from Harland & Wolff. Not completed until 1918 due to the Great War, her first cruises were in repatriating French prisoners of war and later Belgian refugees, as well as shuttling troops around the Empire before being released to her owners in 1920.
A sister, Yorkshire, was also constructed to a similar plan.
With peacetime accommodation for 295 1st class passengers in addition to mail and cargo, Lancashire proved popular, especially on lease to the Crown for delivering troops overseas, and a follow-on class of six near-sisters were soon ordered.
With four masts, a single large funnel, and elegant decks, the 482-foot, 9,445-ton SS Lancashire and her sister Yorkshire were elegant, especially for the Rangoon “Burma Boat” run, and would remain in Bibby’s service until 1946. Note the “HMT” designation on this period postcard, notable as she spent 1918-20 and 1939-45 in service to the Crown, along with numerous lease terms on a £400 per day rate.
Ordered from Fairfield Shipbuilding and Engineering Company of Govan in Glasgow starting in 1925, MV Shropshire (Yard No. 619), followed by our MV Cheshire (620), MV Staffordshire (630), MV Worcestershire (640), MV Derbyshire (653), and MV Devonshire (670) were delivered by 1939.
While Lancashire/Yorkshire had been designed to run a coal plant (replaced by oil-fired boilers in a 1921 conversion), the new “Shires” would be run on two Sulzer 8-cyl (28, 39in) diesel engines from the start, with a speed pushing 14.5 knots, sustained. As such, these were the first Bibby liners to be motorships rather than steamships. Since the diesels were more compact and required no stokers, they freed up extra cargo and passenger space over the old design.
The design remained close enough to keep the same general dimensions (482 feet registered length vs 483) as Lancashire/Yorkshire, albeit a couple of feet wider (60 vs 57), which grew the displacement to 10,500 tons. To be certain, this continued to grow as the class was built out, with Staffordshire expanding to 62 feet across the beam, Worcestershire to 64, Derbyshire to 66, with the resulting heft in tonnage as well. Devonshire, the last of the class, would balloon to 12,796 tons.
They kept a similar 275 1st class passenger capacity as Lancashire/Yorkshire. This was arranged in two overall decks, a third deck below outside the engine room, and a forecastle, long bridge, and poop deck above. There were eight main bulkheads dividing the ship into two peaks, the engine room and six holds, four of them forward, and No. 4 abaft the bridge, worked by derricks on posts just forward of the single funnel, along with a 1,340 cu ft in a refrigerated hold. Boats included 10 26-foot lifeboats, two 22-foot accident boats, and two motor launches.
Crews were small for liners, hovering around 200, with British stewards quartered in the forecastle and Lascar seamen in the poop.
The passenger areas and cabins, to the “Bibby tandem” design, were much better appointed than on Lancashire, as shown by this circa 1930s pamphlet of Worcestershire:
They also had all the cutting-edge navigational gear of the era, including wireless direction finding and submarine signaling.
These half-dozen new 10,000-ton Shires, along with Lancashire and Yorkshire, graced Bibby’s posters and cards during the 1920s and 30s, with the line expanding regular service from Liverpool and Plymouth beyond Rangoon to Colombo and Cochin with assorted stops along the way.
Meet Cheshire
Our subject was Official Number 149625, Fairfield Yard No. 620, and built at Govan like her sisters, following class leader Shropshire by just 10 months when she was launched on the Clyde on 20 April 1927.
Cheshire finished fitting out and was delivered that July, with Bibby soon putting her into Far East service shortly after. In doing so, she replaced the smaller Bibby steamship SS Warwickshire, which had been in service for 25 years.
Her pre-war service was quiet, as one would expect. Her typical run was Liverpool to Rangoon via Gibraltar, Port Said, Port Sudan, and Colombo, a regular sea-going Agatha Christie novel. Between 1928 and 1934, she logged an impressive 447,361 miles.
Torpedo Bait
On 29 August 1939, just three short days before the Germans marched into Poland, Cheshire became one of ultimately 41 Royal Navy Armed Merchant Cruisers to see service in WWII (along with three each in the RAN and RCN).
This amounted to removing most of their superfluous peacetime appointments, reducing their masts and rigging, landing excess lifeboats, slapping on a coat of thick grey paint (later camouflaged), and adding a mixed battery of 6″/45 Mark VII/VIIIs left removed from Great War era battleships and cruisers (an amazing 629 of these were in storage in 1939), along with a couple of more modern 3″/50s and machine guns to dissuade low-flying aircraft.
Cheshire profiles, pre-war and WWII, by JH Isherwood, Sea Breezes magazine, circa 1962.
Likewise, three of her sisters (Shropshire, Worcestershire, and Derbyshire) were similarly converted as AMCs, while the balance became troop carriers.
Sister HMS Worcestershire at Greenock in 1943. Shropshire, Cheshire, and Derbyshire all had similar 1939-43 appearances. IWM (A 17213)
HMS Worcestershire is shown as AMC. IWM FL21782
Cheshire was commissioned on 30 October, with the pennant number F18, and was tasked initially with patrolling the North Sea for German blockade runners.
Cheshire’s first convoy run was from Freetown, Sierra Leone, to Plymouth with Convoy SLF.16 for two weeks in January 1940, being the largest escort in the force of two destroyers and HM Severn, which were returning to duty in Home Waters.
February 1940 saw her as part of SL.20, shipping from Freetown to Plymouth in line with the AMC HMS Esperance Bay and four V-class destroyers.
In March, she rode shotgun with SL.24 from Freetown to Liverpool.
May 1940 saw her patrolling from Gibraltar off Vigo, Spain, with the destroyer HMS Keppel (D84), searching for German blockade runners, raiders, and U-boats.
It was during this duty that she rescued survivors from the torpedoed French cargo liner Brazza, sunk on 28 May by U-37. Working alongside the French gunboat Enseigne Henry, the two ships accounted for 52 crew members, 98 military passengers (56 French Navy, 17 French Army, and 25 Colonial Troops,) and 47 civilian passengers (20 men, 19 women, and eight children) from Brazza who survived the sinking. Another 379 were never recovered.
While deployed with the Western Approaches Defence Force on 16 August 1940, Cheshire spotted a prowling U-boat and birddogged the destroyer HMS Arrow (H 42).
Starting 7 October 1940, she and her fellow AMC, HMS Salopian (ex sister Shropshire, renamed as there was already a cruiser named Shropshire), was part of the first leg of an early “Winston’s Special” Convoy, WS 3 (Fast), leaving Liverpool with seven large 20,000-ton transports carrying troops to North Africa the long way round via Freetown and Cape Town.
On 8 October, the Orient Liner turned troopship Oronsay (20043 GRT) was damaged by Focke-Wulf Fw 200 Condors of I./KG 40 off Ireland’s Bloody Foreland and forced to leave the convoy, escorted by Cheshire and the destroyers Arrow and Ottawa, which took her safely into Lough Foyle.
Returning to sea, at 21.28 on 14 October, Cheshire was promptly struck in her No.2 hold by one torpedo from U-137 (Kptlt. Herbert Wohlfarth), northwest of Ireland. The A-class destroyer HMCS Skeena (D 59) and Flower-class corvette HMS Periwinkle (K 55) embarked all 230 survivors from Cheshire and put parties on board to maintain steam until a tug arrived to take the damaged ship in tow for repair.
Cheshire was successfully towed to Belfast Lough, where she was beached. She was taken to Liverpool for repairs requiring six months.
The 10,000-ton Bibby liners were tough for sure. Sister HMS Worcestershire (F 29) likewise survived a torpedo from U-74 in March 1941, suffering but one casualty. She limped into port on her own power, was repaired, and back on the job in four months.
Sadly, sister Salopian/Shropshire succumbed to three fish from U-98 while off Greenland in April, but remarkably, only sent two of her crew to the bottom with their vessel, while the 278 survivors were landed in Iceland. Even more tragic, her half-sister, the Yorkshire, was also sunk off Cape Finisterre, via two torpedoes from U-37, just 10 weeks into the war, carrying passengers and cargo to Rangoon while still in merchant service. Yorktown carried 58 passengers and crew to the cold embrace of the Atlantic.
Following repairs, Cheshire joined Convoy SL 020F in February 1941 and SL 024 in March. A short run to Iceland, Convoy DS 3, escorting two troopships to the Allied-occupied island from Clyde, was tense but successful.
She continued her convoy escort work with Halifax to Liverpool HX 131 in June 1941, an 11-day crossing. The follow-up Liverpool to Halifax Convoy OB 335 finished up the month.
Convoy BHX.137 and HX 137 came in July 1941.
On 10 January 1942, Cheshire was tasked to escort Convoy WS.15 from Liverpool to embattled Singapore via Cape Town. With 24 steamers packed with troops and munitions, the escort amounted to our subject, the AMC Ascania, the old battleship HMS Resolution (09), the small Dutch cruiser Heemskerk, and a half dozen destroyers and sloops. The convoy suffered one loss, a freighter damaged by U-402 on 16 January, and was later forced to disperse once Singapore fell on 15 February, with the ships proceeding to Suez, Colombo, and Bombay as ordered.
It was during this trip, on 14 March 1942, while on patrol off Cape Town, that Cheshire stopped the German auxiliary minelayer and blockade runner Doggerbank (Schiff 53), which was the British freighter Speybank, which had been captured and converted by the Hilfskreuzer Atlantis in the Indian Ocean a year prior. Doggerbank, flying the ship’s old red duster, successfully identified herself as her sister ship, the Bank Line steamer Levenbank, and was allowed to proceed.
Cheshire can’t be blamed for the mistake; the Royal Navy’s D (Danae)-class light cruiser HMS Durban (D 99)had intercepted the wily Doggerbank two days before with the same result.
Ironically, her British lines would seal her fate, and Doggerbank/Speybank would later be sunk by one of the Kriegsmarine’s own U-boats, which was sure they were sinking an Allied merchant.
Getting back to escort duty, Cheshire rode with WS 19 during passage from Cape Town to Durban in June 1942.
Her final blue water convoy run as an AMC came with Freetown to Liverpool-bound SL 118, her fourth SL/MKS convoy, in August 1942. Amounting to 37 merchants escorted by 12 warships and Cheshire, the convoy had the misfortune of being haunted for a fortnight by the eight U-boats of Wolfpack Blücher, who claimed five of the merchants. Also damaged during this slow-running fight was Cheshire herself, who caught a single fish from a four-torpedo spread from U-214 (Kptlt. Günther Reeder) at 18.52 hours on 18 August.
Undeterred, Cheshire was able to make port on her own power, after all, she had been torpedoed before.
Repaired, she rode with the short coastwise Convoy FS.19 from Methil to Southend in May 1943, where she was paid off on 9 June 1943.
Her escort service as an AMC is remembered in maritime art by Jim Rae.
“AMC HMS Cheshire escorting Admiralty Floating Dock 53, towed in two halves by Tugs HMS Roode Zee and Thames with seven escorts from Montevideo to Bahia. Escort then passed to AMC Alcantara for onward passage to Africa.” By Jim Rae
Troop service (and continued torpedo bait)
Post-Torch and Husky, and with the British fleet much reinforced with new escorts, Cheshire and her surviving sisters were returned to their owner, who operated them, still armed, with merchant crews as troopships under charter to the Ministry of War Transport.
Derbyshire at Clyde, as a troop landing ship with LCVPs on her sides.
HMT Cheshire, Malta
Lancashire as HMT, Malta
On the eve of D-Day, HMT Cheshire joined Convoy ETP1 (sometimes also seen as EWP 1) in the Thames Estuary, where she met the fellow Bibby liners Lancashire (convoy commodore), Devonshire, and sister Worcestershire. Loaded with 10,000 troops of the train of the 3rd Canadian Infantry Division and elements of the Second British Army, they arrived off Juno Beach on 7 June 1944.
Cheshire also had another brush with death on the sea when she sailed on Christmas Eve 1944, alongside the Belgian troopship Leopoldville, escorted by four destroyers, from Southampton across the English Channel to Cherbourg. The two troopships carried the bulk of the U.S. 66th “Black Panther” Infantry Division, and while Cheshire made it to Cherbourg unharmed with her charges, Leopoldville was sunk by U-486, taking 816 Belgian sailors, RN armed guards, and American soldiers with her to the bottom.
Shipping to the Far East in 1945, Cheshire both shuttled Commonwealth troops around the Pacific for occupation duty once Japan quit the war and carried former Allied POWs home. On 23 November, she brought the last Australian former POWs home from Singapore.
Sydney, NSW 1945-11-23. The steamship Cheshire which carried the last group of ex-prisoners of war to return home from Singapore. (Photographer LCpl E. Mcquillan) AWM 123738
Sydney, NSW 1945-11-23. A Group Of The Last Prisoners Of War To Arrive From Singapore Wave To Friends As The Steamship Cheshire Pulls Into Its Berth At Woolloomooloo. Left To Right: Sapper Sullivan, Driver (Dvr) Pasfield, Dvr Mcbean, Private (Pte) Johnston, Pte Mainwaring, And Pte Kermode. (Photographer L. Cpl E. McQuillan)/ Sydney, NSW 1945-11-23. A Group Of The Last Prisoners Of War To Arrive From Singapore Sitting On The Edge Of The Top Deck Of The Steamship Cheshire. Left To Right: Nx65713 Private (Pte) D. Johnson; Nx44139 Pte A. S. Kermode; Nx56312 Driver (Dvr) M. Pasfield; Nx66021 Sapper D. Sullivan; Nx10767 Pte A. Mainwaring; And Qx19008 Dvr R. Mcbean. (Photographer L. Cpl E. McQuillan) AWM 123727/28
She also carried Dutch POWs to Java and Borneo. It was estimated that upwards of 80,000 troops rode Cheshire during the war.
Cheshire was further used for civilian repatriation services, for instance, carrying Gibraltar residents back home in September 1946 who had been evacuated to Northern Ireland in late 1940 when it looked like Spain might invade the colony.
Liner, again
On 5 October 1948, Cheshire was finally released to the owner and allowed to return to commercial service. She was overhauled and rebuilt as a rather spartan emigrant ship, with accommodation for 650 passengers, and three of her masts removed.
Thus minimally refurbished, she sailed on her first Liverpool to Sydney voyage on 9 August 1949, carrying Europeans fleeing war-shattered and Iron Curtain-divisioned Europe for the hope of a better life Down Under.
She would eventually return to trooping duties for the Korean War, able to carry a battalion at a time back and forth from the Peninsula to Europe.
Paid off for good at Liverpool in February 1957, she arrived at Newport on 11 July of that year for breaking by BISCO’s John Cashmore Ltd., having completed a very busy 30 years of service.
Epilogue
Of Cheshire’s sisters who survived the war, Staffordshire likewise returned to service with Bibby and was broken up in Japan in 1959.
Worcestershire lived long enough to be renamed Kannon Maru for her 1961 voyage to the breakers in Osaka.
Derbyshire was scrapped at Hong Kong in 1963.
Devonshire, used for trooping during WWII and Korea, was present at Operation Grapple, the joint U.S./British atomic bomb tests conducted at Christmas Island (Kiritimati/Kiribati) in 1957, having carried Royal Engineers and landing craft crews there to prepare the sites. Later converted to the school ship Devonia for the British India Steam Navigation Co., she was the last of her class disposed of, broken in La Spezia in 1967.
Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive
***
If you like this column, please consider joining the International Naval Research Organization (INRO), Publishers of Warship International
The International Naval Research Organization is a non-profit corporation dedicated to the encouragement of the study of naval vessels and their histories, principally in the era of iron and steel warships (about 1860 to date). Its purpose is to provide information and a means of contact for those interested in warships.
With more than 50 years of scholarship, Warship International, the written tome of the INRO, has published hundreds of articles, most of which are unique in their sweep and subject.
PRINT still has its place. If you LOVE warships, you should belong.
These images seemed to fit, as they are of the third Navy warship to carry the name, the brand new Baltimore-class heavy cruiser USS Columbus (CA-74), at rest on the Hudson some 80 years ago this month, where she was on hand for New York City’s epic Navy Day festivities.
And as we know, NYC is the heart and soul of Columbus Day.
USS Columbus (CA-74) anchored in the Hudson River, off New York City, at the time of the Navy Day Fleet Review, circa late October 1945. A Ford Motor Company facility is in the background. Collection of Warren Beltramini, donated by Beryl Beltramini, 2007. U.S. Naval History and Heritage Command Photograph. NH 105562
USS Columbus (CA-74) hosing down her starboard anchor cable, while in New York Harbor during the post-World War II Navy Day Fleet Review, circa October 1945. Note the harbor oiler at right. Courtesy of Lieutenant Gustave J. Freret, USN (Retired), 1972. NH 81121
Commissioned at Boston on 8 June 1945, Columbus was too late to get any WWII battle stars then served in the Atlantic and Mediterranean during Korea. She was later converted to a Galveston-class guided missile cruiser, CG-12, and served until 1975, getting 30 solid years in, somehow, without seeing major combat operations.
Her place on the Navy List was taken by the 688i-class hunter-killer USS Columbus (SSN-762), which has been in service since 1993, having bested the old cruiser’s service by two years.
Some 80 years ago today, one of the longest-serving yet oft-forgotten vessels in American maritime service was finally retired.
On 10 October 1945, the 190-foot Miami-class cruising cutter Unalga (WPG-53)was decommissioned, capping 33 years of unbroken service that began in 1912 with the old Revenue Cutter Service.
Serving with the Navy directly during the Great War, she went back to walking the beat and rejoined the Navy for WWII, first in conducting antisubmarine patrols under the auspices of the Commandant, 10th Naval District, then as a floating target ship for the Motor Torpedo Boat Squadron Training Center in Melville, Rhode Island.
Former crewman Merle L. Harbourt, in a 15 May 1992 letter to the USCG Historian’s Office, wrote about Unalga during the cutter’s second world war:
She never sank a submarine nor shot down a plane, but there is one old ship that I served in that should get some mention simply because she survived. The former Revenue Cutter Unalga, or ‘Mighty U’ as she was not too affectionately referred to by her crew, is a case study in unpreparedness.
As memory serves, the Unalga was commissioned in 1912 as a vessel of the U.S. Revenue Cutter Service. I joined her in June of 1941 when she was home ported in San Juan, P.R. She was powered by a four-cylinder triple expansion reciprocating steam engine, which Lt. L. M. Thayer (later to be RADM Thayer), our engineering officer, was intent upon her maintenance since she was forever snapping piston rings.
Shortly before the outbreak of WWII, we painted her gray and limbered up our armament, one three-inch twenty-three caliber mount on the fore deck. We were tied up in San Juan, at the still-existing buoy depot, when December 7th became a day of infamy.
We served as Harbor Entrance Control Vessel for San Juan for a period and then were pressed into service to haul aviation gasoline from Puerto Rico (Ponce) to Charlotte Amalie, Virgin Islands, in 55-gallon drums stacked all over the main deck, to provide fuel for the Marine air station. The small tanker that had formerly provided that service was shelled and sunk by a sub earlier. Later, without the benefit of radar or sonar, we assisted in the escort of ships between Trinidad and Cuba, convoys that sometimes got away from us during darkness or heavy rains.
My humorous tales of life on that old ship are endless. Like the time when we thought we might be facing a German Q boat, or raider, and .30 caliber rifles were issued to a few crewmembers. And us with one snub-nose three-inch cannon! Or the time when, after sonar installation, we thought we had a sub contact, dropped a pattern of depth charges, and the main engine stopped. The vacuum had been lost. If we were in the vicinity of a sub, he probably thought we wouldn’t make it back to port anyway and didn’t waste a fish.”
She wasn’t quite finished, though.
Sold on 19 July 1946 for her value as floating scrap, she was renamed Ulua and then participated in the immigration of Jewish refugees to Palestine, past the British naval blockade.
Blockade-runner Ulua (former Unalga) tied up pier side at Marseille, France, December 1946
How about this great period Kodachrome of the New Mexico class battleship USS Idaho (BB-42) steaming through the Panama Canal with her glad rags flying, en route to the U.S. east coast for epic Navy Day celebrations in October 1945.
National Archives 80-G-K-6572
Commissioned in March 1919, she came too late for the Great War. Idaho only managed to escape being at her traditional home on Pearl’s Battleship Row on December 7, 1941, by being transferred to the Neutrality Patrol in the Atlantic just six months before the Japanese attack.
Headed back to the Pacific, Idaho earned seven battle stars for her World War II service and was present in Tokyo Bay when Japan formally surrendered on 2 September and was ordered to the East Coast on 7 September, carrying 600 veterans stateside in addition to her crew.
Tough as a two-dollar steak, off Okinawa alone, Idaho fired 2,338 14-inch shells, 6,487 of 5-inch, and another 4,647 of 40mm in NGFS.
The past week has been a very busy one when it comes to new warships coming online and old ones getting the (sometimes hard) goodbye.
Comings
The future Flight III Arleigh Burke-class destroyer USS Ted Stevens (DDG 128), equipped with the new-to-the-fleet AN/SPY-6 (V)1 radar and Aegis Baseline 10 Combat System, recently completed her builder’s sea trials.
Stevens will be commissioned in Alaska in May or June 2026 as she honors the former senator from that state.
Ingalls delivered the first Flight III, USS Jack H. Lucas (DDG 125), in June 2023 and has five others under construction. In all seriousness, these should probably be re-classified as Lucas-class cruisers (CG) as they are stepping into the AAW boss role in carrier battle groups left vacant by the retirement of the Ticonderogas.
Speaking of Flight III Burkes, the future USS Louis H. Wilson Jr (DDG 126) was christened on Bath Iron Works’ drydock over the weekend.
She was sponsored and christened by the daughter of Mississippi-born General Louis H. Wilson Jr., USMC, who served as the Twenty-Sixth Commandant of the Marine Corps during its immediate post-Vietnam rebuilding process. Wilson was no slouch when it came to valor, having earned a MoH while leading a rifle company of the Ninth Marines on Guam in 1944 at the ripe old age of 24.
When it comes to another storied WWII vet, the 82-year-old Gato-class fleet boat USS Cobia (SS-245) is looking great after a dry docking at Fincantieri shipyard. Among other things, she has blasted, primed, and coated with 1,945 gallons of paint, and her sea chests have been cleared of mussels and blanked off with metal plates. A leak was also found in main ballast tank 2, which was drained, cleaned, and repaired.
Her $1.5 million refresh is scheduled to take six weeks and keep her ship-shape for another 25 years, after which she will go back on display at the Wisconsin Maritime Museum in Manitowoc around mid-October.
Cobia was last dry-docked in the fall of 1996, which tracks.
Goings
The Ticonderoga-class guided-missile cruiser USS Philippine Sea (CG 58) was officially decommissioned during a ceremony onboard Naval Station Norfolk on Sept. 25, 2025. Commissioned in 1989, she has given 36 years of hard service and is the second U.S. Navy warship to carry the name.
Now, only seven of the 27 Ticos are still in active service, with another 15, all decommissioned since 2022, nominally in the Reserve Fleet. Five earlier non-VLS Ticos have all been disposed of.
Finally, the retired Norwegian Olso-class (modified Dealy class DEs) frigate KNM Bergen (F301) was disposed of in a sinkex off the coast of her homeland last month.
There is some confusion over whether she was sunk by a torpedo from the Ula-class submarine KNM Uthaug (S 304) or a Quickstrike delivered by a visiting USAF B-2. As some of the photos released by the Norwegian Navy are clearly taken via periscope, it may be a combination of the two.
It is known that a visiting B-2A “Spirit of Indiana” (82-1069), accompanied by a Royal Norwegian Air Force F-35A Lightning II and P-8A Poseidon aircraft, did use a 2,000-pound class GBU-31 JDAM (Quicksink variant) against “a maritime target” off Andøya in the Norwegian Sea, on 3 September, so this may have been against ex-Bergen.
Either way, it was a dramatic end to the 2,000-ton frigate, which served faithfully on the front lines of the Cold War from 1967 to 2005.
If you enjoy my always ad-free Warship Wednesday content, you can support it by buying me a cup of joe at https://buymeacoffee.com/lsozi As Henk says: “Warship Coffee – no sugar, just a pinch of salt!”
Warship Wednesday, October 1, 2025: Small Ship, Big Heroes
Courtesy of the International Naval Research Organization, via the Naval Historical and Heritage Command. NH 87370
Above we see the gleaming S. M. Schiffes Zenta, the class leader of a trio of third-class protected cruisers in the Austro-Hungarian Navy, the Kuk Kriegsmarine, early in her career.
Some 125 years ago, she helped carve out a piece of China for Kaiser Franz Josef, then went on to make a heroic footnote in the history of naval warfare.
The Zentas
Our subject was the lead ship of the Zenta-class cruisers, which included the follow-on half sisters SMS Aspern and SMS Szigetvar. I say “half sisters” as all three ships in the class, while they were built successively by the Austrian Marinearsenal in Pola, were evolutionarily different. For instance, whereas Zenta’s displacement was 2,500 tons (full), Aspern ran 2,625 tons, and Szigetvar 2,562. Zenta was 10 feet shorter than her sisters and had a different rigging and mast arrangement, carrying a topmast on her fore as she was rigged for auxiliary sails.
Brassey’s plans for “Kreuzer A” or “Ersatz Grief,” which became Zenta. Note the sail rig and ram bow.
A more fleshed-out version.
Zenta was also the slowest of her class, capable of 19.5 knots on 7,200 shp, while her sisters could hit 20.8 knots, with the latter pair running 8,160 shp. They used eight coal-fed Yarrow boilers to feed two 4-cylinder VTE engines made by Stabilimento Tecnico Triestino, the Austrian navy’s chief machinery firm and maker of a dozen battleships for the dual monarchy.
Armament consisted of an eight-gun main battery of Skoda-made 4.7″ L/40 SC.96 guns (six in casemates, two open mounts on the main deck) backed up by a secondary anti-boat battery of 10 Hotchkiss/Skoda 47mm 33/44 3-pounders and a couple of Skoda M1893 8mm machine guns. As an anti-ship armament, they carried two above-water 17.7-inch torpedo tubes on the beam, using domestically produced Whitehead torpedoes.
SMS Zenta, Schiessübungen, 1903, with one of her 4.7″ L/40 Skodas in action. Note the “SMS Zenta” stencil on the life ring attached to the bridge wing.
47 mm S.F.K. L/44 gun. Image from Škoda Catalog ca. 1900 courtesy of András Hatala, via Navweaps.
Two of Zenta’s sailors pose by one of her Salvator-Dormus (Skoda) M1893 8mm machine guns. Designed by no less than Archduke Karl Salvator of Austria, they used a delayed blowback action and could fire about 180 rounds per minute from a top-mounted 20 or 30-round fixed magazine. These guns could be dismounted and, heavy at 65 pounds, could be married up to a stored landing carriage and shield for use ashore.
Armor was very thin, even for a light cruiser, ranging from 35mm at the casemates to 50mm over the conning tower.
It was estimated that the cost of these ships was £150,000 each.
Jane’s 1914 listing for the class.
Meet Zenta
All three ships of the class were named after famous battles in Austro-Hungary’s past. Our subject remembered the 1697 Battle of Zenta (Senta) with the Habsburg forces under Prince Eugene of Savoy, crushing an Ottoman force twice its size. The official state seal of Grand Sultan Mustafa II, humiliatingly captured along with over 9,000 Ottoman baggage carts full of supplies and bounty after the battle, can be viewed today in the Museum of Military History (Heeresgeschichtliches) in Vienna.
Depiction of the Battle of Senta 1697 by Jan van Huchtenburgh c. 1725.
Our ship was laid down at Pola on 8 August 1896 and launched into the Adriatic the following summer on 18 August 1897.
The future protected cruiser SMS Zenta during her launch (Stapellauf) at Pola.
Fitting out took nearly two further years, and she was commissioned on 15 May 1899. Her sisters joined her in 1900 and 1901, respectively.
Zenta. Courtesy of the International Naval Research Organization. NH 87372
Zenta. Courtesy of the International Naval Research Organization. NH 87371
Far Eastern Service
The Austrian fleet had dispatched units overseas to protect its interests during the Spanish-American War in 1898. For instance, the 6,000-ton armored cruiser SMS Kaiserin und Königin Maria Theresia was dispatched to Cuba and came close enough to American battle lines that she was almost engaged twice.
Kuk armored cruiser SMS KAISERIN und KÖNIGIN MARIA THERESIA sails past Morro Castle, Havana, 1898, by August Ramberg
With growing tensions in the Far East after the Japanese humiliation of the Manchu Chinese Dynasty in 1895 and the U.S. fighting for control of the former Spanish colony of the Philippines, the newly completed Zenta, under Fregattenkapitän (Commander) Eduard Thomann von Montalmar, was almost immediately dispatched to the Pacific after shakedowns.
Zenta in Hong Kong, taken by Friedrich Carl Peetz, Duke University Repository
By March 1900, Zenta had arrived at China station in the Yellow Sea. Pier side at Sasebo, Japan, on 30 May, von Montalmar received orders via the Austrian legation in Tokyo to return to China and provide a detachment of armed sailors to protect the threatened legation in Peking, which was being increasingly threatened by Boxers. After confirming the orders with the admiralty, she left on 31 May at close to maximum speed, arriving at the Taku Forts on the morning of 2 June.
SMS Zenta at the Taku Anchorage (Taku-Rhede) by Alex Kircher
As the Austrian charge d’ affaires in Peking, Arthur von Rosthorn, wanted to speak directly to the ship’s skipper personally, von Montalmar, four junior officers (two dressed in mufti so as not to surpass the number of “military” personnel allowed to travel into the interior by Chinese officials) and 25 armed sailors landed and went by train in company with a force of 51 German marines and sailors to Peking, arriving on 3 June. In addition to protecting the Austrian legation, a midshipman and eight sailors were loaned to protect the Belgian envoy, who had no guards of his own.
Austrian Marines (armed sailors), likely from Zenta, marching in Tientsin (Tianjin), after their arrival, 1900. National Archives, Kew NA03-08.
Well prepared, each of Zenta’s armed sailors carried a Steyr-Mannlicher bolt-action rifle and 500 rounds, along with eight days of “iron” rations. On 5 June, the rail line from Teinstein to Peking was cut, and soon the assembled 400~ members of the eight international forces would defend the legations from Boxers and Chinese soldiers during a 55-day siege (20 June 20 through 14 August) with von Montalmar killed by an enemy grenade on 8 July. Three of Zenta’s crew were also killed in action in the Quarter: Josef Dettan (on 25 June), Marcus Badurina-Peric (26 June), and Afred Tavagna (29 June).
One happy coincidence was that it was found that some of the Chinese troops used Mannlicher rifles of the same caliber, and their captured cartridges could easily be put to use. This also allowed the Austrian sailors to loan rifles to the ammunition-strapped Russian contingent, who had only marched to Peking with 60 cartridges in their pouches.
Supporting the so-called Seymour Expedition led by by British VADM Sir Edward Hobart Seymour, a lieutenant and two midshipmen from Zenta, along with 73 additional sailors (keep in mind Zenta only had a 300-man crew!) joined Seymour’s 2,127-strong force drawn from the assorted ships crowding under the Taku forts, with the idea to force the way to Peking via Tientsin and relieve the Legation Quarter.
Seymour’s expedition, 1900 Boxer rebellion
In the resulting land combat along the road and railways, one of Zenta’s sailors, Josef Deste, was killed in action on 22 June while storming the Great Hsi-Ku Arsenal eight miles northwest of Tientsin.
While Zenta had detachments fighting for their lives in Peking and on the roads outside of Tientsin, she coughed up even more men for service ashore in storming the Taku Forts, where 40 modern guns threatened the growing Western flotilla should the Chinese navy enter the fray.
A detachment of 21 Austrian sailors, under Midshipman Stenner and joined by a young 20-year-old Midshipman 2cl Georg von Trapp, joined a larger German force under Capt. Pohl to seize the Northwest Taku fort on the morning of 17 June. The force also wound up capturing the South Fort, where the Austrian flag was raised.
Erstürmung von taku by Fritz Neumann, Anne S. K. Brown Military Collection
Erstürmung der Takuforts durch österr kuk Austrian SMS Zenta
While the two other landing parties from Zenta had suffered deaths, the Taku Fort group survived its battle without a loss.
The Zenta men of the failed Seymour Expedition and the Taku group then assembled a 55-man platoon to join the 14,000-strong Russian/Japanese-led relief force that ultimately lifted the Peking Siege in August. They carried with them the ship’s two Skoda machine guns.
Skoda M1893 machine guns on carriage and limber. Zenta’s crew used two of these in their work ashore during the taking of the Taku forts. This image, from a circa 1902 U.S. Army report, may actually be of our cruiser’s guns seen in China.
A week after the siege was broken, a 160-strong force from the Austrian cruisers SMS Aspern and Kaiserin und Königin Maria Theresia, arrived in Peking on 20 August, relieving the Zenta men, who returned to the coast to rejoin their ship. In late July 1901, she departed Chefu (Zhifu) to the sounds of the Radetzky march being played.
She finally arrived back in Pola on 1 October 1901 and was awarded a silk flag of honor for her Chinese actions.
Von Trapp, promoted to a Midshipman 1c, received the Silberne Tapferkeitsmedaille II. Klasse and the War Medal before he was commissioned as a Fregattenleutnant (frigate lieutenant, equivalent to sub-lieutenant) in May 1903. He soon transferred into the budding Austrian submarine corps.
The late von Montalmar was regarded as a hero back home.
Zenta in her dark grey livery. Photographed at Pola on 1 October 1901 upon her return from East Asia. Courtesy of the International Naval Research Organization. NH 87366
Zenta in her dark grey livery. Photographed at Pola on 1 October 1901 upon her return from East Asia. Courtesy of the International Naval Research Organization. NH 87367
Zenta in her dark grey livery. Courtesy of the International Naval Research Organization. NH 87368
Salad Days
After a refit, Zenta spent the next 12 years in a series of fleet maneuvers, yard periods, and flag-waiving cruises, including a 12-month trip along the coasts of Africa and South America in 1902-03.
Austro-Hungarian light cruiser SMS Zenta in November 1902 off Zanzibar
By 1905, she was relegated increasingly to a role as a torpedo boat flotilla leader, receiving a wireless set for that purpose. She also joined a series of international naval demonstrations in the Mediterranean as the region descended into a swirling series of wars in North Africa and the Balkans.
Zenta, with her laundry aloft. Courtesy of the International Naval Research Organization. NH 87369
A (Short) Great War service
Under the command of Fregattenkapitän Paul Pachner, when August 1914 came, Zenta was the leader of six Austrian torpedo boats tasked with blockading the rocky Montenegrin coast, in particular the Montenegrin port of Antivari (now Bar). In support were Zenta’s sister Szigetvar, the old 5,000-ton coast-defense ship SMS Monarch, the equally old 1,500-ton torpedo cruiser SMS Panther, and three destroyers.
On the morning of 16 August, just over two weeks into the war, a combined Anglo-French squadron of two 25,000-ton Courbet class dreadnoughts, each packing a dozen 12-inch guns, joined by 10 smaller pre-dreadnoughts, seven cruisers, and more than 20 destroyers, swooped down on Zenta, cruising alongside the humble Austrian destroyer Ulan.
While Pachner, whose trapped ship was outgunned by almost any of the British or French ships in the squadron save for the destroyer, cleared his decks for action and turned into the fray– ordering her companion Ulan to flee northward and alert the rest of the Austrian fleet.
It was over in less than 20 minutes, with Courbet smothering the attacking Austrian cruiser with 12-inch shells, sending her to the bottom some four miles off the coast of Castellastua, reportedly with her flags still flying. At least 173 of her crew perished, while none of Zenta’s shells were observed to land within 400 yards of the closest French ship. However, the French did have three of their guns burst during the exchange, leaving a sour taste in the mouths of the French Admiralty.
As noted by French VADM Amedee Bienaime
The destruction of this small cruiser of 2,500 tons, which stood unprotected for twenty minutes under the scattered fire of our entire fleet, cost 500 large-caliber shells and the loss of two 24-centimeter and one 19-centimeter guns. The same result could have been achieved by a single armored cruiser in five minutes, with a few well-aimed shots. I must say that, compared with the efforts made to achieve it, this result is not at all satisfactory.
After about six hours of swimming, 139 battered and waterlogged survivors reached the Sveta Neđelja reef just off the Montenegro coast and were rounded up that afternoon by local troops sent in by boat. Austrian propaganda at the time claimed that they were initially pushed back into the water with bayonet charges by the Montenegrins and drowned.
Celebrity status
The battle was celebrated in Austria during the war, with a number of heroic portrayals circulated widely in periodicals and postcards.
Arthur Thiele, Zenta
Der Heldenkampf der Zenta J Huemesser 10CB2B93
Der Heldenkampf der Zenta Ulan J Huemesser Sammlung 39240_2 1-2
Painting showing SMS Zenta and SMS Ulan in action on 16 August 1914, by Harry Heusser via Illustrirte Zeitung 1915, wiki
Wien Museum Online Sammlung 39742_3
“Im Heizraum der Zenta vor dem Untergang.” (in the boiler room of the ‘Zenta’ before the sinking). By Harry Heusser, Kriegspostkarte, 1915. Wien Museum
Zenta postcard Arthur Thiele
Zenta and Ulan by Ákos Bánfalvy
Wien Museum Online Sammlung 39755_8 1-2
There was even a popular song, “The Bold Heroes of the Zenta” (Die kuhnen helden der Zenta), by Greiffenstein and Bunnieitner, Vienna, that was circulated.
The phrase “Pflichtgetreu bis in den Tod” means “Faithful to duty until death,”
The rough translation:
The waves in the blue sea, roaring and cheering…
The wondrous brave heroes of the “Zenta”!
A small cross marks the “Zenta” now, but look in the future…
The brave heroes of the “Zenta.”
The French fleet came into sight, but no one’s face turned pale,
The brave heroes of the “Zenta.”
They landed the anchors so fresh and bold,
That it seemed and hailed hostile…
The brave heroes of the “Zenta.”
The Frenchman then stood up in horror:
“Such brave heroes we have never seen!”
Those were the men of the “Zenta.”
But one thing was certain: That is the end;
The cruiser thundered in defiance,
But never the men of the “Zenta.”
They sank down deep from the flood,
Their banner still shines in the sun’s glow;
The men of the “Zenta” cheer.
We sing and cheer in God’s name:
To the Emperor, to the Reich a thunderous
The brave heroes of the “Zenta.” Hurrah!”
Lock up
At the same time, our lost cruiser and her crew were celebrated in the Austro-Hungarian Empire; her surviving 139 marooned officers and men were cooling their heels in a Montenegrin prison camp in Podgorica.
When that Balkan country was overrun by the Central Powers in January 1916, knocking it out of the war, the Zenta men were liberated.
Officers of the small cruiser SMS Zenta with two KuK flight officers after their release from the Montenegrin prisoner of war. (HM Hadtörténeti Intézet és Múzeum)
“Der Kommandant S. M. Schiffes Zenta nach Befreiung aus montenegrinischer Gefangenschaft” (The Commander of S. M. Ship “Zenta” after liberation from Montenegrin captivity) 1922 Pola postcard. Wien Museum
“Stab S. M. S. Zenta nach Befreiung aus montenegrinischer Gefangenschaft.” (Staff of S. M. S. Zenta after liberation from Montenegrin captivity) 1922 Pola postcard. Wien Museum
The 139 survivors returned to their old homeport of Pola aboard the 250-ton T-class torpedo boat, SMS 81T, one of Zenta’s old flotilla mates.
Austrian Torpedo Boat SMS 81T photographed returning to Pola with the freed crew of the sunken cruiser Zenta. In the background is a Battleship of the Habsburg class. NH 87683
Epilogue
Zenta’s survivors went back out to the Austrian fleet.
Pachner was never trusted by the Austrian Kriegsmarine with another seagoing command despite his “hero” status. He finished the war as a rear admiral manning a desk. After the dissolution of the Dual Monarchy, he went into merchant service and sailed on Yugoslav, Spanish, and Egyptian vessels, among others.
He moved back to his native Maribor (then in Yugoslavia) in poverty and died there in 1937, aged 66. His grave is simply marked “Fremder Seemann” (foreign sailor).
After the war, a group of her 1914 survivors returned to Montenegro in 1923 and paid for a chapel to be built on top of a cliff near the shore in the Bay of Kotor, to commemorate their escape.
Von Trapp, of course, became the most celebrated Austrian U-boat “ace” in history and is immortalized in The Sound of Music.
A pair of ornately decorated Chinese-made bronze cannon, with bores of 13.7 cm and 12.5 cm, respectively, dating to the Qing Dynasty, were captured during the Boxer Rebellion by the Austrian naval detachment (including von Trapp and the men of the Zenta) during the taking of the Taku Forts.
Looted from the Pei tang fortress, they were transported back to Europe as trophies and are currently on display at the HM Hadtörteneti Intezet es Muzeum in Budapest.
They were recently refurbished and given new mounts.
Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive
***
If you like this column, please consider joining the International Naval Research Organization (INRO), Publishers of Warship International
The International Naval Research Organization is a non-profit corporation dedicated to the encouragement of the study of naval vessels and their histories, principally in the era of iron and steel warships (about 1860 to date). Its purpose is to provide information and a means of contact for those interested in warships.
With more than 50 years of scholarship, Warship International, the written tome of the INRO has published hundreds of articles, most of which are unique in their sweep and subject.
PRINT still has its place. If you LOVE warships, you should belong.
If you enjoy my always ad-free Warship Wednesday content, you can support it by buying me a cup of joe at https://buymeacoffee.com/lsozi As Henk says: “Warship Coffee – no sugar, just a pinch of salt!”
Above, we see the Dutch Heiligerlee-class deckhouse monitor 2de klasseZr.Ms. Krokodil between 1887 and 1900. Note her myriad of topside shielded 37mm 1-pounder Hotchkiss QF guns, including two covered 5-garreled Gatling style Krupp-Gruson Revolverkanone looking over her stern and two singles crowding her forward military mast, from where they had a great enfilade angle on approaching small craft. This augmented her single 11.4-inch L22 Krupp No.1 breechloading rifle in her turret.
One of a group of interesting ironclads built for the Netherlands to a British design, she had a quiet career.
Dutch monitors
Keen to learn from the naval developments coming out of the U.S. during the Civil War, the Koninklijke Marine, then as now one of the most professional sea services in the world, was quick to upgrade. From the mid-1860s to the late 1870s, the Dutch navy rushed to complete a fleet of armored monitors for coastal defense.
These included the two large domestically-built Rammonitor 1ste klasse vessels, the Rijkswerf-built Zr.Ms. Draak (2,234 t, 201 ft. oal, 8.4 knots, 2×11.4″/22 guns, ƒ1,311,715 cost) and the Fijenoord-built Matador (2,000 t, 209 ft. oal, 7.5 knots, 2×11.4″/22, ƒ1,039,529) that entered service in 1877.
Rammonitor Zr.Ms. Matador NIMH 2158_006466
These beasts were preceded by 11 Monitors 2de klasse, led by six bow ram-equipped Adder-class vessels (Zr.Ms. Hyena, Panter, Haai, Adder, Wesp, and Luipaard), delivered by Rijkswerf and Fijenoord between 1870 and 1876. Running 1,500 tons and some 192 feet long, they carried two 9-inch Armstrong/EOC RML guns and were protected with between 5.5 and 11 inches of iron plate armor. Speed was 7 or 8 knots, depending on the vessel, as none of the six appeared to have been 100 percent identical. These ships ran between ƒ755,955 (Adder) and ƒ920,343 (Luipaard).
This leaves us with the other five 2de klasse monitors, which kicked off the Dutch monitor race.
These vessels, the Laird Brothers-designed Heiligerlee class, included Zr.Ms.Cerberus, Bloedhond, Tijger, and our primary subject, Krokodil. All ordered in 1867 as the ink was still drying at Appomattox and the smoke was still in the air from Lissa, these five ships were built at two different British yards (Laird and Napier) as well as at Rijkswerf.
Heiligerlee model, via Rijksmuseum
While they were roughly the same design, they varied from hull to hull but generally ran 1,500 tons and 192 feet overall. Carrying two 9-inch Armstrong/EOC RML guns, they were protected with between 5.5 and 11 inches of iron plate armor. Speed was between 7 and 9 knots, depending on the vessel.
Zr. Ms. Luipaard
Zr. Ms. Luipaard
As you may have guessed, the Heiligerlee design would prove the basis for the follow-on Adders as described above.
Meet Krokodil
Laid down at Laird Brothers, Birkenhead, within days of her class-leading sister Heiligerlee, Krokodil was launched 13 Feb 1868 and entered service 21 July 1870. She cost ƒ765,115 compared to Heiligerlee’s ƒ788,348
Monitor Zr.Ms. Krokodil in Birkenhead, England, in 1868, showing her original twin turret. NIMH Objectnummer 2158_002092
Krokodil was well-documented in the British press at the time, with a well-known line drawing appearing in the Illustrated News and a description in the Engineer.
A circa 1868 print of Krokodil. NIMH Objectnummer 2158_002093
Krokodil print, Illustrated News
Dutch Harbor Defense Ironclad Monitor Krokodil, Illustrated London News, September 5, 1868,
With a draft of just under 10 feet, these monitors were well-suited for inland service, defending the sea inlets along the extensive canals of their home country.
Krokodil, 1871, via Rijksmuseum
However, their low freeboard made them lethal to their crews in any sort of chop, as witnessed by the original USS Monitor, which went to the bottom early in her career.
Hauntingly, Addercapsized near Scheveningen with all 65 crew members on board in 1882.
With the rapid advancement in naval guns, the standard Dutch monitor big gun, the muzzle-loading Armstrong 9-incher, was soon made obsolete and, starting with the Luipaard in 1877, would instead carry 11.4″/22 Krupp No.1 breechloaders.
The Krupp gun, besides being about 15 percent cheaper than the British RML, was also more effective, capable of firing a 560-pound AP shell to 9,000 yards instead of the 249-pound “pointed bullet” (puntkogel), which had a 6,000-yard range. However, as a single Krupp gun weighed more than two Armstrongs, this meant the twin-gun turrets on the Heiligerlees and Adders were eventually converted to a single gun.
The brown-powder fired Krupp 28cm L22 C76 Nr. 1 kanon as used by Dutch ironclad monitors starting in 1877.
Krokodil only received her Krupp upgrade in 1884, making it easy to date images of her. As small torpedo boats had become a threat by that time, she also picked up a smaller 3-inch gun and four Hotchkiss 1-pounders as described in the first image of this post.
Zr.Ms. Heiligerlee class monitor 2de klasse 2158_005033
Heiligerlee class monitor with 28 cm A No. 1 gun after 1884, Amsterdam. Afbeeldingsbestand: PBKD00201000009 G
Monitor Hr.Ms. Krokodil in Harlingen on laundry day, circa 1887-1900. NIMH Objectnummer 2158_002094
By the late 1890s, after international naval lessons learned in the Sino-Japanese War in 1894 and the Spanish-American War in 1898, the age of the iron-sheathed monitor was clearly passed.
On 16 March 1900, Krokodil was decommissioned and, after a few years of service as a hulk, was sold for ƒ32.257 worth of scrap in 1906 to J.G. van der Linden of Woerden.
All of her sisters were similarly disposed of, with Heiligerlee surviving the latest, being scrapped in 1910. The larger and more advanced Draak was the last Dutch monitor in service, but even she left in 1914. The age of steel and electricity had come.
All that remains are their builders’ models and the wreck of Adder.
Model monitor Tijger, in full rigged arrangement. Heiligerlee class, via Rijksmuseum
Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive
***
If you like this column, please consider joining the International Naval Research Organization (INRO), Publishers of Warship International
The International Naval Research Organization is a non-profit corporation dedicated to the encouragement of the study of naval vessels and their histories, principally in the era of iron and steel warships (about 1860 to date). Its purpose is to provide information and a means of contact for those interested in warships.
With more than 50 years of scholarship, Warship International, the written tome of the INRO, has published hundreds of articles, most of which are unique in their sweep and subject.
PRINT still has its place. If you LOVE warships, you should belong.
Landing party, USS Arizona (Battleship No. 39), resting during a required 5-mile forced march with full pack near Bremerton, Washington, in 1925. The junior officer in the center leading the drill is newly minted Ensign (future CNO) Arleigh Albert “31 Knot” Burke (USNA 1923).
Landing party drill marches such as these were an annual requirement.
The battlewagon’s man crew was expected to provide a 201-man light infantry company reinforced with a machine gun detachment for service ashore if needed. Three such companies would form a battalion, such as in the Navy’s actions in Vera Cruz in 1914.
Navy Landing Party, 1914. Their uniforms are stained khaki with the use of coffee grounds. Courtesy of Carter Rila, 1986. Naval History and Heritage Command Photograph. NH 100832
A Naval Landing Party Battalion consisted of 28 officers and 636 men.
A company, 6 officers, 195 men.
A rifle platoon, 1 officer, 44 men.
A machine gun platoon, 1 officer, 55 men.
A rifle squad had one petty officer squad leader and 12 men divided into three fire teams.
According to her 1924 book of plans, seen below, Arizona’s small arms locker at the time included two .30 caliber machine guns (likely Lewis guns), 350 M1903 Springfield rifles with bayonets, 100 M1911 .45 ACP pistols, and 10 cutlasses, as well as an undefined quantity of older Krag rifles.
Most ships of the era also carried a few shotguns and rimfire pistols for recreational purposes. The battleship likewise stored full marching order sets of web gear, canteens, knapsacks, blanket rolls, and button-up canvas gaiters to gather the bellbottoms.
Atlantic Fleet sailors in formation, landing force drill, circa 1909. Collection of CQM John Harold. Catalog #: NH 101534
While few large naval landing parties were sent ashore after WWII, the Navy continued to issue a manual (OPNAV P 34-03) to cover such evolutions into 1960. Under its guidelines, even destroyers and destroyer escorts were expected to cough up a trained and properly equipped 13-man rifle squad for service ashore.
If you enjoy my always ad-free Warship Wednesday content, you can support it by buying me a cup of joe at https://buymeacoffee.com/lsozi As Henk says: “Warship Coffee – no sugar, just a pinch of salt!”
Warship Wednesday, September 17, 2025: ‘A Good Record, and a Proud Ship’
Courtesy of Colonel Robert D. Heinl, USMC. U.S. Naval History and Heritage Command Photograph. (NH 42351)
Above we see the Allen M. Sumner-class destroyer USS De Haven (DD-727) as she supports the first and second waves of landing craft moving toward Red Beach at burning Inchon at 0700 on 15 September 1950, some 75 years ago this week, as photographed from a Marine Air Group Twelve (MAG-12) aircraft, from either VMF-214 or VMF-215.
In more ways than one, despite her service in three real-life shooting wars and a long-running tasking as a guinea pig, the “Ravin’ D” would become the poster child for Inchon, and for good reason.
The Sumners
The Sumners, an attempt to up the firepower on the previous and highly popular Fletcher-class destroyers, mounted a half-dozen 5″/38s in a trio of dual mounts, as well as 10 21-inch torpedo tubes in a pair of five-tube turntable stations. Going past this, they were packed full of sub-busting and plane-smoking weapons as well as some decent sonar and radar sets for the era.
Sumner class layout, 1944
With 336 men crammed into a 376-foot hull, they were cramped, slower than expected (but still capable of beating 33 knots all day), and overloaded (although they reportedly rode wildly when in light conditions). Still, they are fighting ships that earned good reputations for being almost indestructible.
Cost per hull, in 1944 dollars, was about $8 million, excluding armament, compared to the $6 million price for a Fletcher, a big jump.
Meet De Haven
Our vessel was the second Navy ship named in honor of LT Edwin Jess De Haven.
Born in Philadelphia in 1816, joined up with the fleet age the ripe old age of 10 as a midshipman and made his name as an early polar explorer, shipping out with the Wilkes Expedition (1839-42), and looking for Sir John Franklin’s lost polar expedition as skipper of the humble 81-foot brigantine USS Advance in 1850 as part of the Grinnell expedition. Placed on the retired list in 1862 due to failing eyesight, he passed in 1865.
His aging granddaughter, Mrs. Helen N. De Haven, made the trip to Maine’s Bath Iron Works from her home in Ardmore, Pennsylvania, in 1942 to participate in the launching ceremony for the first ship to carry his name, the Fletcher-class destroyer DD-469. Commissioned on 21 September 1942, that valiant greyhound was sunk just 133 days later, the 15th American destroyer lost in the Guadalcanal campaign.
The U.S. Navy destroyer USS De Haven (DD-469) off Savo Island, viewed from USS Fletcher, 30 January 1943, two days before she was lost. NARA image 80-G-284578
The second De Haven was a member of the much-improved Sumner class. Laid down once again at Bath Works on 9 August 1943 (just two days after the contract, NOBs-309, was issued), she was BIW Hull #228.
The late LT De Haven’s granddaughter, then 56, dutifully came to christen this second destroyer as well on a chilly 9 January 1944, sending the hull into the embrace of the Kennebec River. We all pitch in where we can in wartime.
As detailed by the Bath Independent:
Helen N. De Haven, Sponsor of USS DeHaven Photograph, January 9, 1944. Via Maine Maritime Museum 81_029/81_031
Launching of USS DeHaven DD-727, January 9, 1944 via Maine Maritime Museum D_DE_031
Commissioned 31 March 1944, her construction ran just 235 days.
Her plank owner crew was led by CDR John Bagley Dimmick (USNA 38), who would be De Haven’s skipper through the following June. Before joining De Haven, Dimmick had earned a Legion of Merit while on the staff of Commander Destroyers, Atlantic Fleet, on the team to improve the effective operation of the 5-inch gun batteries in destroyers.
On 9 July, she became the flagship of Desron 61 (Desdiv 121 and 122), the second squadron of Sumners, made up of USS Mansfield (DD 728), Lyman K. Swenson (DD 729), Collett (DD 730), Maddox (DD 731), Blue (DD 744), Brush (DD 745), Taussig (DD 746), and Samuel N. Moore (DD 747), with Capt. Jesse H. Carter moving aboard with his staff for the duration of the war.
De Haven making knots off Race Point, July 1944, via USS DeHaven.org
War!
USS De Haven (DD-727) underway in 1944. NH 52484
After shakedowns in Bermuda, De Haven pulled the mission to escort the small old flattop USS Ranger (CV 4) from Norfolk– capping the carrier’s Atlantic service– to the Pacific, where the Torch veteran would be tasked with preparing air groups out of Pearl Harbor for combat operations on the sharp end.
Dropping off Ranger in Hawaii on 3 August 1944, De Haven continued onward, escorting west-bound convoys including the carriers USS Enterprise, Intrepid, and Independence to Eniwetok before joining the fast carriers of TF 38 at Ulithi for operations in the Philippines, arriving just off Luzon as an escort with these carriers of TU 38.1.3 on 4 November.
She would continue such screens through January 1945, including raids along the Indochina coast and Formosa, with notable incidents including the rescue of a downed VF-7 Hellcat pilot from USS Hancock on 14 December and steaming through Typhoon Cobra on 17/18 December, coming to within about 35nm of the storm’s center while registering sustained 55 knot winds and mountainous seas.
Typhoon Cobra, as observed by radar. NOAA photo
De Haven spent the next several days combing the debris scattered seas for survivors from three other destroyers that were not as lucky. No less than 718 souls perished at sea during the typhoon. Nimitz noted later that “It was the greatest loss that we have taken in the Pacific without compensatory return since the First Battle of Savo.”
February 1945 brought the Iwo Jima landings and more carrier screening. It was during plane guard duties for USS Bennington on 12 February that a TBF of VT-82 was struck by a rocket accidentally fired from a Hellcat of VF-82, causing the death of two of the three men aboard the Avenger. One of De Haven’s crew, PhM2c Edward Price, dove into the open sea and rescued the pilot, Ensign Paul F. Cochran, who was being dragged under the hull by the weight of his sinking parachute. Price was recommended for the Navy and Marine Corps Medal.
On the 16th, she stood by her carriers as they made the first attacks on the coasts of the Japanese main islands since the Doolittle Raid. While the Doolittle carriers never made it closer than 650 miles from Japan, De Haven logged her position as only 150.
1/2 March saw her engage in some good old-fashioned naval bombardment, soaking Okino Daito Jima from close offshore with other destroyers overnight. She expended 14 rounds of 5″/38 Common, 432 of 40mm, and 815 of 20mm.
This dovetailed into the Okinawa landings and near constant anti-air watches for weeks, continuing this task through 13 June, including firing on at least three bogeys that came in close, counting a “sure assist” kill on an Emily. She proved a worthy lifeguard for a second time, pulling 1LT H.F. Pfremmer, USMCR, a member of Bennington’s fighter group, from the sea on 14 May.
She once again was allowed a break from plane guard and air defense duties for another fire mission, hitting Minami Daito Jima on 10 June with 104 5″/38 Common, including 23 two-gun salvos, seven four-gun salvos, and five satisfying six-gun salvos. She had hit the island on 21 April already, firing 90 rounds at its airstrip just before sunset.
Oh yeah, and she survived a second maelstrom, Typhoon Connie, during which she saved a third aviator, a pilot from USS Hornet. The “half-drowned” pilot, Lt (j.g.) John David Loeffler, USNR, was plucked from the water just eight minutes after he hit the drink, rescued by PhM2c Robert Wayne Simmons, who swam to the aviator to buckle a chest strap around him so that he could be lifted aboard with a whip hoist. Simmons was recommended for the Navy and Marine Corps medal.
Then came operations directly against the Japanese home islands proper.
On 9 July, she assumed a radar picket station some 20 miles (later 50 miles) West of the center of her task force. There, she was a control ship for inbound U.S. and RN strikes, as well as an early warning tripwire for rarely seen Japanese aircraft headed out to sea, and as a floating life guard station. She and her DesRon 61 sisters would remain on this duty through 15 August, with De Haven sinking over a dozen floating Japanese mines with 20mm cannon fire, and rescuing several downed aviators (including Lt CW Moore, USS Shangri La, 15 July; Ensign Frank Kopf, Bennington, 25 July; and Ensign J.A. Lungren, Bennington, 13 August).
She also took part in an epic littoral raid from the sea.
With each of the Sumners mounting six 5″/38s, they could get off a tremendous amount of fire when needed.
Detecting a Japanese convoy of four vessels at 2305 while still 33,000 yards away, the chase was on. Closing to within 11,000 yards by 2353, the engagement took just 16 minutes and saw the DDs fire 3,291 5-inch shells and let fly some 18 torpedoes.
The score? One Japanese merchant ship was sunk– the freighter No.5 Hakutetsu Maru (810 t), and the other, Enbun Maru (7,030 t), was damaged. The escorting IJN minesweeper (No. 1) and subchaser (No. 42) were unharmed. The little convoy was carrying a disassembled aircraft factory and was headed to Korea to set up shop, a trip that was aborted after the battle.
The American losses were zero.
As noted by the National WWII Museum, the engagement, termed today the Battle of Sagami Bay, was “the first time U.S. Navy ships entered the outer reaches of Tokyo Bay since April 1939.”
While DesRon 61 never received a commendation for the action, Halsey himself signaled afterward, pointing out that the force rode heavy post-typhoon seas into the Bay with great effect:
“Commander Third Fleet notes with great satisfaction the success of this well-planned and executed attack.
Commander Destroyer Squadron 61 is to be congratulated on the sound judgment, initiative and aggressive spirit displayed in ‘beating the weather’ to drive this attack home at the very door of the Empire.
You are unpopular with the Emperor. Well done”
When the war ended on 15 August, De Haven and her squadron were stationed closer to the Japanese mainland than any other Allied surface ships in Halsey’s Third Fleet.
She was one of just 48 Allied (37 American) destroyers at anchor in Tokyo Bay during the Surrender Ceremony on 2 September 1945, with the ghost of the old DD-409, lost at Guadalcanal, no doubt present alongside.
There, she flew the two-star flag of RADM John F. Shafroth, ComBatRonTwo. De Haven anchored just 1,000 yards off Missouri, close enough to almost smell the ink on the documents.
De Haven sailed on 20 September for the States with four battleships and two other destroyers, loaded with “stateside” bound passengers, and arriving at San Francisco on 15 October after a brief stopover at Pearl Harbor.
USS Lyman K. Swenson (DD-729) moored at San Diego, California, with two other destroyers, circa 1945-46. The middle ship is USS De Haven (DD-727). Courtesy of John Hummel, NH 89289
Between 1 February 1946 and 3 February 1947, De Haven served in the Western Pacific, joining the 7th Fleet in operations off the coast of China and patrolling off the Japanese coast.
De Haven received five battle stars for World War II service:
*Leyte Operation, Luzon attacks: 5-6, 13-14, 19-22 November and 14-16 December 1944 *Luzon Operation
-Luzon attacks — 6-7 January 1945
-Formosa attacks — 3-4, 9, 15, 21 January 1945
-China Coast attacks — 12 and 16 January 1945
-Nansei Shoto attacks — 22 January 1945 *Iwo Jima Operation
-Assault and occupation of Iwo Jima — 15 February – 4 March 1945
-Fifth Fleet raids against Honshu and the Nansei Shoto —15-16, 25 February, 1 March 1945 *Okinawa Gunto Operation
-Fifth and Third Fleet raids in support of Okinawa Gunto operations — 17 March – 11 June 1945 *Third Fleet Operations against Japan — 10 July – 15 August 1945
Four of the class were lost to enemy action during the war:
USS Meredith (DD-726) struck a mine on D-Day Plus 1, following supporting the landing at Omaha Beach, then was attacked and sunk on the way back to England.
USS Cooper (DD-695) was torpedoed and sunk on 3 December 1944 by the Japanese destroyer Take at Ormoc Bay.
On 12 April 1945, USS Mannert L. Abele (DD-733) was sunk by an Ohka (Baka) bomb during the Okinawa Campaign
USS Drexler (DD-741) met the same fate when she was sunk by a Japanese Kamikaze on 28 May 1945.
Korea!
NKPA (North Korean People’s Army) gains, 30 June–1 August 1950. Map from The Inchon-Seoul Operation, U.S. Marine Operations in Korea, 1950–53, Vol. II (NH 97052).
Based in Japan, on 26 June 1950, De Haven and her sister USS Mansfield (DD-728) were tasked to assist in the emergency evacuation of some 700 U.S. citizens and foreign nationals from Seoul, which would fall two days later.
Just four days after the North Korean People’s Army crossed the 38th Parallel, on 29 June, the light cruiser USS Juneau (CLAA 119), packing a dozen 5″38s, in company with De Haven, fired the first naval shore bombardment of the Korean War, hitting North Korean troop concentrations at Bokuku Ko. She then performed plane guard duties for the carrier USS Valley Forge and served as the commo link between the Pusan Perimeter and the tug USS Arikara (AT-98), the inshore landing control vessel.
Tasked with blockade work along the coast, De Haven bombarded an enemy battery near Pohang on 20 August, where, working with the heavy cruiser USS Toledo, they broke up a tank attack and destroyed artillery positions. De Haven then encountered a medium vessel and three small boats on 7 September, sinking all.
Soon, De Haven was tasked to support the amphibious counterpunch to Pusan, the Inchon Landings. The beach and Wolmi-do island were held by 2,000 Norks, including the 226th Marine Regiment, to which two companies of the 2d Battalion, 918th Coast Artillery Regiment were attached with their Soviet-manufactured 76mm guns.
Task Force Group Element 90.62, consisting of De Haven and her fellow DesRon 9 Sumner sisterships USS Gurke (DD-783), Mansfield, Lyman K. Swenson (DD-729), Collett (DD-730), and Henderson (DD-785), was tasked with a high-risk mission to support the Inchon Landing.
The tin cans were ordered to steam up the 30-mile-long, treacherous, and poorly charted Flying Fish (So Sudo) Channel at high tide to bombard enemy positions at Wolmi-do and the waterfront of Inchon. They did this among floating mines (the destroyers sank 12 mines), the 918th’s 76mm field guns, and strafing runs from enemy Yaks.
While the destroyers were supported by a four-ship cruiser force filled with 8- and 6-inch guns — USS Rochester (CA-124), Toledo, HMS Jamaica (44), and HMS Kenya (14)— the deep draft cruisers could only go as far as Inchon’s outer harbor, some 14,000 yards offshore. All were provided with top cover by the planes of TF-77.
Inchon Invasion, September 1950. Wolmi-Do island under bombardment on 13 September 1950, two days before the landings at Inchon. Photographed from USS Lyman K. Swenson (DD-729), one of whose 40mm gun mounts is in the foreground. Sowolmi-Do island, connected to Wolmi-Do by a causeway, is at the right, with Inchon beyond. 80-G-420044
Five U.S. Navy destroyers steam up the Inchon channel to bombard Wolmi-Do island on 13 September 1950, two days before the Inchon landings. Wolmi-Do is in the right center background, with smoke rising from air strikes. The ships are USS Mansfield (DD-728); USS DeHaven (DD-727); USS Lyman K. Swenson (DD-729); USS Collett (DD-730), and USS Gurke (DD-783). Official U.S. Navy Photograph, now in the collections of the National Archives. 80-G-419905
Wolmi-do and Inchon. Drawing, colored pencil on paper, by Herbert C. Hahn, ca. 1951 (88-191-BB).
Derided as a “sitting duck” operation as it was to be done in daylight hours due to the tide pattern and in close proximity (within 800 yards) to shore (Collett, Gurke, and Swenson took hits from Korean 76mm batteries while De Haven got close enough to have received several .50 caliber hits but without serious damage), the destroyers nonetheless accomplished their mission and make it back out to sea before the tide plummeted and left them stranded on the mud.
As noted in the Marine Corps history of the landing:
It had been long since the Navy issued the historic order “Prepare to repel boarders!” But Admiral Higgins did not overlook the possibility of NKPA infantry swarming out over the mud flats to attack a disabled and grounded destroyer. And though he did not issue pikes and cutlasses, the crews of the Gurke, Henderson, Swanson, Collett, De Haven, and Mansfield were armed with grenades and Tommy guns for action at close quarters.
The total damage to the destroyers was structurally insignificant, however, and the combined casualties amounted to one man killed and eight wounded.
The force steamed back in on the 15th to land the Marines, following three squat LSMR rocket ships (No. 401, 403, and 404) that fired 1,000 of their fiery 5-inch bombardment salvos into the NKPA positions.
Soon, the destroyers were following up with everything they had. From L-minus 45 to L-minus 2, the four cruisers and six destroyers would dump no less than 2,845 8, 6, and 5-inch shells on Inchon and its outlying island, each ship concentrating on specifically assigned target areas.
From H-minus 180 to H-minus 5, the cruisers and destroyers were scheduled to blast their assigned targets with another 2,875 big gun shells, “smashing every landmark of tactical importance and starting fires that blazed across the whole waterfront.”
The Devil Dog-filled LCVPs and LSUs followed behind, covered by the 5-inch and 40mm fire from the destroyers. It was a resounding success, and by 0745, 3 bn/5th Marines radioed “Captured 45 prisoners. Meeting light resistance.”
The destroyers fired so many 5-inch shells in three days (1,700 on 13 September alone) that they needed to be re-barreled.
A worn-out 5″/38 gun barrel of the U.S. Navy destroyer USS De Haven (DD-727) is replaced by the destroyer tender USS Piedmont (AD-17), probably at Sasebo, Japan, circa 1951. All Hands archives.
The six “Sitting Ducks” destroyers of TE 90.62 that gave such yeoman service at Inchon, De Haven included, earned a collective Navy Unit Commendation:
“For outstanding heroism in action against enemy aggressor forces in Korea from 13 to 15 September 1950. Skillfully navigating the extremely difficult and hazardous approaches to enemy-held Inchon in advance of the initial assault against that fortress, Task Element 90.62 coolly entered the strongly fortified harbor and anchored within close range of hostile gun positions. Defying the deadly barrage of heavy enemy shore-battery fire delivered from a myriad of hidden gun emplacements scattered along the coastline, the gallant destroyers of this Element courageously proceeded to launch an accurate and crushing fire attack in the first of a series of well planned and brilliantly executed bombardments which culminated in the reduction of the port’s defenses and in successful landing of friendly forces at Inchon on 15 September 1950. Although sustaining several casualties and numerous hits from the roaring enemy shore batteries, these ships repeatedly refused to leave their assigned stations and boldly continued to return the heavy counter-fire of hostile guns until their scheduled time of withdrawal. Fully aware that with each successive entry into the treacherous channel, the peril of meeting increased resistance was greatly intensified, they braved the hazards of a hostile mine field, passed dangerously close to the enemy’s shore fortifications, and unleashed a furious bombardment which eventually neutralized the port defenses sufficiently to permit the successful amphibious landings. An aggressive and intrepid fighting unit, the daring officers and men of Task Element 90.62 achieved a splendid combat record which attests the teamwork, courage, and skill of the entire Destroyer Element and enhances the finest traditions of the United States Naval Service.”
“Teamwork, Courage, and Skill “Men of Destroyer Division 91 crowd the foc’sle and superstructure of their ships in Sasebo, Japan, to receive their Navy Unit Commendations. During the presentation on the Mansfield, a crane crew in the background continues its task of installing new gun barrels on the De Haven. Streaks of red lead on the Collett and the Swenson in the foreground show the work that has occupied all the crews while in port. By coincidence, the famed ‘Sitting Duck’ destroyers are berthed in their numerical order: USS De Haven (DD-727), Mansfield (DD-728), Lyman K. Swenson (DD-729), and Collett (DD-730).” Photograph and caption released by Commander Naval Forces, Far East, under date of 18 December 1951. Official U.S. Navy Photograph, from the “All Hands” collection at the Naval History and Heritage Command. NH 97090.
Moving past Inchon, on 26 September, De Haven used her guns to disperse a North Korean unit ambushing ROK troops before going to assist the sister destroyer USS Brush (DD-745), which had struck a mine. She escorted the damaged ship back to Sasebo, arriving on the 30th.
On 6/7 October, De Haven provided NGFS for a raid by British Royal Marines from 41 (Independent) Commando on enemy railway tunnels and bridges on the east coast of Korea. The Commandos blew the railway tunnel at Kyongsong Man, less than 20 miles south of Chongjin.
Royal Marines of 41 Independent Commandos plant demolition charges on a railway line in Korea. NARA – 520790
De Haven was ordered back to Yokosuka and Pearl Harbor for refit on 23 October, wrapping her first very hectic Korean tour.
By 12 July 1951, she was back on the gunline/blockade duty off Korea, which she maintained until 1 February 1952.
Her third Korean tour ran from October 1952, when she clocked in as the flagship for patrols in the Chongjin-Songjin-Chaho area, through 20 March 1953, the latter stint including exchanging gunfire with Chinese batteries while supporting minesweeping operations off Wonsan. In 16 days off Wonson, De Haven and her partner destroyer, USS Moore, observed the impact of 316 incoming Chinese shells, some as close as 400 yards, and provided counterbattery fire in return.
De Haven earned a Navy Unit Commendation and six battle stars for Korean War service, bringing her constellation to 11 stars with her WWII service included.
North Korean Aggression — 27 June – 12 September 1950, and 18 September – 23 October 1950
Inchon Landing — 13-17 September 1950
U.S. Summer-Fall Offensive — 18 July – 2 November 1951 and 3-27 November 1951
U.S. Summer-Fall Offensive — 28 November 1951 – 25 January 1952
Korean Defense, Summer-Fall 1952 — 21 October – 30 November 1952
Third Korean Winter — 26 January 1953 – 20 March 1953
Test bed and space support
By the early 1950s, the Navy had decided that 21-inch anti-ship torpedo tubes as well as 40mm and 20mm guns were obsolete, so conversions to the Sumners saw these deleted and replaced with six twin 3″/50 radar-controlled DP mounts and a Hedgehog ASW system.
Post-Korea, De Haven spent the next 15 years in a much more peaceful Pacific than she had known in her first decade of service as a permanently deployed Yokosuka-based destroyer. Between alternating fleet exercises, “hearts and minds” port calls, and West Pac deployments (making six voyages to the Far East from 1953 through 1959 alone), she also had some out-of-the-ordinary taskings.
In 1958, she served as an experimental vessel for the budding Rocket Assist Torpedo program, which would later become ASROC. The idea at the time was that the RATs would launch from a platform built into a destroyer’s stern twin 5″/38 gun house.
USS De Haven (DD 727) is shown with the Rocket Assist Torpedo (RAT) launching system installed on the aft five-inch gun mount. Released July 25, 1958. 330-PS-9056 (USN 710203)
Close-up view of the Rocket Assist Torpedo (RAT) launching system installed on board USS De Haven (DD 727). “An added weapon to the anti-submarine warfare forces, the rocket-assisted torpedo weapon system consists of a rocket-propelled anti-submarine torpedo 13 ½ feet in length and weighing 450 pounds. The missile is propelled through the air by a powerful rocket. The spent rocket drops away, and the torpedo continues on its way. It deploys a parachute, which stabilizes its flight and carries it down to the water. On entering the water, the torpedo releases the parachute, sheds its nose cap, and starts to search for and attack the submarine. Released July 25, 1958.” 330-PS-9056 (USN 710204)
Then came Operation Hardtack I, a series of nearly three dozen nuclear tests from 28 April to 18 August 1958 at the Marshall Islands testing grounds (Bikini Atoll, Enewetak Atoll, etc). Besides testing a variety of devices and delivery methods, Hardtack also tested how close Navy ships and aircraft could be to these “tactical nukes” and, following washdown procedures, still operate.
De Haven was on hand for 27 of 35 blasts, some as close as 5,900 yards away. The highest TLD badge reading on De Haven was 1.76 R. In that blast, Hardtack Wahoo, De Haven suffered the following damage:
Engineering Spaces–Personnel were generally calm, though they considered it violent. In some cases, personnel were frightened.
Lower Sound Room–The shockwave sounded like water rushing by the ship. A shock wave shook the ship violently with a loud cracking noise. Personnel were somewhat frightened.
Bos’n Locker– Ship vibrated violently, first fast, then slow. Sounded like water pouring into the ship. Personnel were considerably frightened
From the 476-page Hardtack case file, declassified in 1984, De Haven’s participation in the project:
The test footage from Hardtack was only cleared and released by Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory in 2017.
FRAM’d
In the early 1960s, the remaining Sumners were ordered converted under the Fleet Rehabilitation and Modernization II (FRAM II) program to make them more capable for Cold War threats. For these ships, most pushing 15 years on their hulls, it was an eight-month mid-life overhaul, with a $7 million per hull price tag.
Sumner class destroyer FRAM II profile, circa 1968. Click to big up
FRAM II included new radars (SPS-10 2D surface-search and SPS-40 long range air search), a fixed SQS-29 sonar dome on the keel under frame 25, which increased her depth by 6 feet, the installation of a Gyrodyne QH-50 DASH ASW drone system and hangar, and the addition of a winched SQA-8 variable depth sonar on her fantail.
Because the 369-foot Sumners did not have sufficient hull length, they did not receive the ASROC system, which was part of the more extensive FRAM I program that was applied to the longer (and slightly younger) 380-foot Gearing-class destroyers. Instead, they had to make do with two triple Mark 32 torpedo tubes for Mark 44 torpedoes and two single 21-inch tubes for Mark 37 torpedoes installed between the funnels. In exchange, they lost their legacy ASW gear (Hedgehog and depth charges) as well as their 3″/50 DP gun mounts.
On 1 February 1960, De Haven began her FRAM II modernization at San Francisco, which was completed in September.
USS De Haven (DD-727) underway in an undated photograph, circa 1960s. UA 466.02
Sumner class, 1960 Janes
Newly converted, De Haven left Long Beach on 3 October 1961 for a 985-day forward deployment to 7th Fleet at Yokosuka that saw her return to California 33 months later after steaming 213,576 miles. This included 325 days in Yokosuka, 18 port calls in seven other countries, five exercises (Red Wheel, Yellowbird, Big Dipper, Lone Eagle, and Mercury), four patrols along the line of contact between China and Taiwan, the ship’s first deployment to Vietnam providing support to ready amphibious assault force, an exotic five week tour as station ship Hong Kong, and working as a plane guard for 11 different carriers.
And that’s just the stuff that’s on the record.
In 1962, she was the first ship to take on the Navy’s DESOTO patrols. This was a response to the expanded claims on territorial waters made by China on Taiwan, a geopolitical dispute from the Cold War that is still relevant nowadays. Operating with a SIGINT team aboard under the classified and direct control of ComSeventhFleet, she earned the 197th, 198th, and 199th Serious Warnings from Red China over penetration of what Peking considered its territorial waters near the old German treaty port of Tsingtao. While eight later Desoto patrols took place along east and north China and up the/Korean coast as far as the Soviet. Gulf of Tartary, and then switched to the Gulf of Tonkin ala USS Maddox, the original code name was for “DEhaven Special Operations off TsingtaO.”
She also served on the NASA recovery squadron for Mercury-Atlas MA-9 (“Faith 7,” Major Gordon Cooper, USAF) in May 1963.
In July 1966, she was once again detailed to assist NASA as part of the Gemini-Titan 10 (GT-10) recovery crew, one of the secondary splashdown zone (No. 3, off Okinawa) vessels, should the spacecraft not make the primary recovery ship, the newly commissioned USS Guadalcanal (LPH-7). As it turned out, Guadalcanal easily recovered the record-setting Gemini X, the 16th crewed American flight, including Command Pilot, LCDR John W. Young, USN, and Pilot, Col. Michael Collins, USAF, as the capsule landed just 3 miles from the ‘phib, just off the Virginia coast.
A Navy frogman assists the Gemini 10 astronauts following splashdown at 4:07 p.m., 21 July 1966. Astronaut John W. Young (climbing from spacecraft), command pilot, is the only crew member seen in this view (NASA Photo ID: S66-42772); Astronaut John Young is hoisted from the water by a recovery helicopter from the prime recovery ship. Navy frogmen wait in life rafts below. (NASA Photo ID: S66-42773)
After weeks of training to recover a splashdown space ship on a mock-up “boilerplate,” and with an Army commo sergeant and a NASA tech aboard, but Gemini X landing as planned on the other side of the globe, De Haven instead had a 1911 shoot-ex off the helicopter hangar and returned to port.
Vietnam
No destroyer based in the Pacific in the 1960s got out of deployments to Southeast Asia.
We know that De Haven went at least five times, including April-December 1963, October 1966- March 1967, April-August 1968, October 1969-March 1970, and November 1970- April 1971.
This included inland brown water service on the Mekong River in September 1963 and on the Saigon River during early March 1967, as noted by the VA Agent Orange list.
As noted by her Veterans page:
During this period of time, De Haven served as a naval gunfire support unit in I, II, III, and IV corps and Rung Sat special areas, firing over 22,000 rounds in support of these operations and other noteworthy campaigns, including direct combat engagement with North Vietnamese artillery units on multiple occasions. De Haven’s assignments included search and rescue, radar picket duty, electronic countermeasures, Snoopy Drone operations, shore bombardment, and attack carrier operations from both the “Yankee” and “Dixie” Station staging areas. De Haven participated in the rescue of four downed pilots off the coast of North Vietnam.
6×5! USS DeHaven DD 727 giving fire support near DMZ, 1966
USS DeHaven, DD 727, 1967, Tonkin Gulf, Vietnam. “The U.S. Navy destroyer USS De Haven (DD-727) is returning to the U.S. after two months of gunfire support off South Vietnam.” McLean County Museum of History, Paul Purnell Collection
QH-50 Snoopy Drone operations aboard De Haven in the Gulf of Tonkin; August 14, 1967:
She earned a Navy Unit Commendation and Republic of Vietnam Meritorious Unit Citation in August 1968.
USS De Haven (DD-727) underway off the coast of Oahu, Hawaii, on 19 November 1970. Photographer: PH3 C.P. Weston. NH 107136
With the drawdown in Vietnam, De Haven was decommissioned and stricken on 3 December 1973, capping a very active 29-year career.
Back to Korea (under a different flag)
Transferred to the South Korean Navy two days after she was stricken from the NVR, De Haven was appropriately renamed ROKS Incheon (DD-98/918) and served under the flag of that country until 1993.
The battered 48-star ensign that flew from her mast during Typhoon Cobra in 1945 is at the Maine Maritime Museum in Bath, Maine.
A plaque in the ship’s memory is at the Museum of the Pacific (Nimitz Museum) in Fredericksburg, Texas, dedicated by several veteran members of her crew. For the record, she suffered no casualties in WWII.
Her first skipper, John Dimmick, retired in 1959 as a rear admiral after 21 years of service and later became a high school history teacher in Arizona for almost two decades. He passed in 1987 at age 80.
Of De Haven’s 19 other commanders, at least two others earned stars, including her CDR William Heald Groverman Jr. (USNA ’32), who stood on her bridge on VJ Day, and CDR James Ward Montgomery (USNA ’44), who was her skipper during most of the 985-day West Pac deployment in 1961-63. Of note, Groverman had earned two Silver Stars in destroyers before he came to De Haven and only retired in 1971 after 43 years in the Navy. He had characterized De Haven as having a “good record” and being “a proud ship” in her WWII War History. He seemed like a man who would have known. They passed in 2011 and 1997, respectively.
She is remembered in a variety of maritime art.
De Haven. United States Destroyer at Wonsan. Drawing, Pencil on Paper; by Hugh Cabot; 1952; Framed Dimensions 25H X 30W. (88-187-W)
“Sudden Squall” Painting, Oil on Canvas; by R. G. Smith; 1969; “The USS de Haven (DD-727) provides anti-aircraft and anti-submarine protection for the carrier USS Coral Sea (CVA-43) while on Yankee Station, an operational staging area just off the coast of North Vietnam. The winter monsoon in that region is characterized by consistent heavy clouds and rainfall that make operations difficult.” Framed Dimensions 52 1/2H X 64 1/2W. Accession #: 88-160-FI.
Finally, German scale model maker Wolfgang Wurm crafted a 1:192 diorama of De Haven in her 1945 livery at sea during Typhoon Cobra. It is on display on level 5 of the Internationales Maritimes Museum Hamburg.
The Navy, in its infinite wisdom, has not elected to name a third destroyer De Haven, which is a shame.
Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive
***
If you like this column, please consider joining the International Naval Research Organization (INRO), Publishers of Warship International
The International Naval Research Organization is a non-profit corporation dedicated to the encouragement of the study of naval vessels and their histories, principally in the era of iron and steel warships (about 1860 to date). Its purpose is to provide information and a means of contact for those interested in warships.
With more than 50 years of scholarship, Warship International, the written tome of the INRO, has published hundreds of articles, most of which are unique in their sweep and subject.
PRINT still has its place. If you LOVE warships, you should belong.
Five 125-foot cutters at Charleston Navy Yard, Boston, late 1920s. Boston Public Library Leslie Jones Collection.
Five 125-foot cutters at the Charleston Navy Yard, Boston, in the late 1920s, including, from the outside, the USCGC Fredrick Lee, General Green, and Jackson. Boston Public Library Leslie Jones Collection.
Painted haze grey and with her armament significantly stepped up, she served on the Bering Sea Patrol during WWII.
Heavily occupied with convoy escort work, anti-submarine patrols, screening duties, and rescuing both vessels and aircraft in distress, the McLane and her crew are often credited with sinking the Japanese submarine Ro-32 (or possibly the Soviet sub Shch-138!) in July 1942 and a multiple-person rescue of a downed Lockheed Electra in February 1943, among several other notable actions.
Original caption: Coast Guard Lieut. Ralph Burns (right) of Ketchikan, Alaska, is presented the Legion of Merit Medal by Coast Guard Capt. F.A. Zeusler (left), commanding officer of the Alaskan Coast Guard District, in ceremonies at Ketchikan. Coast Guard Commander G.F. Hicks (center), Ketchikan base commander, witnessed the presentation. The award was made by Secretary of the Navy Frank Knox on behalf of the President. The medal was awarded for “exceptionally meritorious conduct” during an action in North Pacific waters in which the U.S. Coast Guard cutter McLane, with Lieutenant Burns in command, eliminated a Japanese submarine with depth charges. It was the first Japanese sub sunk in Alaskan waters.” National Archives Identifier 205588237
McLane was awarded one Battle Star for her World War II service.
125 ft. Active-class “Buck and a Quarters,” via 1946 Janes
Switching back to her white and buff scheme post-war, she was based in California until decommissioned in December 1968, capping 41 years in the service.
125-foot “buck and a quarter” USCGC McLane (W146) in her post-WWII scheme. Note her 40mm Bofors, circa 1962
Mothballed at the US Coast Guard Yard for less than a year, the McLane was sold to the Marine Navigation and Training Association of Chicago in November 1969, who operated her as a school and instruction ship for Sea Scouts on the waters of Lake Michigan into the early 1990s. She was then acquired by the Great Lakes Naval Memorial and Museum in 1993 (now known as the USS Silversides Submarine Museum) and began her third career as a museum ship in Muskegon.
That final chapter has now closed, and with her 98-year-old hull increasingly unstable, the museum has “de-assessed” McLane, towing her off to the breakers last week.
As noted by the museum:
The vessel, which had been closed to the public since spring 2025 due to ongoing maintenance concerns, was towed away with the support of dedicated community partners. After nearly a century of service in both salt and fresh water, the McLane’s condition had deteriorated to the point of being inaccessible for public touring and beyond the scope of feasible preservation.
Despite efforts to explore alternative preservation options, the museum ultimately determined that continued stewardship of the McLane was no longer sustainable. With the cold season approaching, the combination of time, weather, and structural decline made timely action necessary to ensure the safety of the vessel and the surrounding environment.
One of 33 Active-class cutters, McLane’s only remaining sister afloat, the former USCGC Morris (WPC-147/WSC-147/WMEC-147), was saved from the scrappers by the Vietnam War Flight Museum in Galveston, Texas, in 2021 and is being restored to sailing condition.