Renowned Handgunner Philip Hemphill Passes at 71

Two-time NRA Precision Pistol Champion and holder of 10 National Police Pistol Championship titles, Philip Hemphill, has passed away.

Hemphill, who retired from the Mississippi Highway Patrol as a captain in 2011 after a 30-year career, was a longtime fixture as a firearms instructor at the state’s largest police academy, MLEOTA in Pearl. During that time, he proved legendary at Police Pistol events, winning several consecutive national championships, typically competing against other instructors from around the country.

Hemphill notably was the first to win both the NPSC and the police title at NRA’s National Matches at Camp Perry in conventional pistol. He was named the NRA’s Officer of the Year in 2007, among other honors.

After he hung up his badge, Hemphill continued working as an instructor for another decade while competing for Team Zero/ Lapua, Rock River, and AimPoint.

Hemphill passed on Oct. 12, 2023, at his home in Meridian.

I met Capt. Hemphill on my two trips through MLEOTA in the early 2000s. He was a hell of a guy. We are diminished.

Mosquitos!

80 years ago today: PT boat No. 285 underway, 19 October 1943. Note the extensive camouflage paint scheme on the 78-foot Higgins Motor Torpedo Boat, her SO type radar set, four lightweight Mark 13 aircraft torpedos in roll-off mounts, two twin M2 .50 cal Brownings pointed skyward, another pair of 20mm Oerlikon singles fore and aft, and a 7×3-foot balsa float on deck filled with supplies.

U.S. Navy Photo in the National Archives 80-G-85754

Carrying the unofficial names of “Scuttlebutt John” and “Fighting Irish,” PT-285 was laid down 8 February 1943 by Higgins Industries in New Orleans, completed 16 July 1943, and assigned to Motor Torpedo Boat Squadron TWENTY THREE (MTBRon 23), going on to see action at Bougainville and Green Island as well as in New Guinea, ending her career in the Philippines, stripped and torched off Samar as excess equipment in November 1946.

PT boat No. 337, an 80-foot Elco Motor Torpedo Boat, was photographed the same day in likely the same location, and she gives a great profile view of such a craft. She carries the same torpedo punch as PT-285 above, but one fewer 20mm mount and a wooden dingy instead of the balsa float.

80-G-85757

PT-337 was laid down at Elco in Bayonne, New Jersey on 17 February 1943 and completed on 14 May then was assigned to MTBRon 24 for service in New Guinea. Serving under the unofficial names of “Heaven Can Wait” and “PT Intrepid” she was lost to Japanese shore batteries on 7 March 1944 in Hansa Bay, New Guinea.

Bulkely covers the tragic tale in his At Close Quarters book on PT boat operations in WWII:

On the night of March 1/2, Lt. R. H. Miller, USNR, in PT 335 (Lt. Bernard C. Denvir, USNR), with PT 343 (Ens. Fred L. Jacobson, USNR), destroyed two enemy luggers and set fire to a storehouse, a fuel dump, and an ammunition dump at Bogia Harbor, 125 miles northwest of Saidor. On the following night, Lieutenant Commander Davis, in PT 338 (Lt. (jg.) Carl T. Gleason), with PT 337 (Ens. Henry W. Cutter, USNR), went 10 miles farther up the coast to Hansa Bay, a known enemy strongpoint.

The boats idled into the bay at 0200, the 338 leading. They picked up a radar target a mile and a quarter ahead, close to shore. Closing to 400 yards, they saw two heavily camouflaged luggers moored together. Heavy machine-gun fire opened from the beach. As the PT’s turned and started to strafe the beach, more machine-guns started firing along the shore, and a heavy-caliber battery opened from Awar Point, at the northwestern entrance of the bay.

The first shell hit so close to the port bow of the 337 that some of the crew were splashed with water and heard fragments whizzing overhead. Three or four more shells dropped near the 337; then one hit the tank compartment just below the port turret, going through the engineroom. All engines were knocked out and the tanks burst into flame. Ensign Cutter pulled the carbon dioxide release, but the blaze already was too furious to be checked.

Francis C. Watson, MoMM3c, USNR, who had been thrown from the port turret, got to his feet and saw William Daley, Jr., MoMM1c, USNR, staggering out of the flaming engineroom, badly wounded in the neck and jaw. Watson guided Daley forward, slipped to the deck and shouted to Morgan J.

–224–


Canterbury, TM2c, USNR, to help the wounded man. In the meantime Cutter gave the order to abandon ship and the men put the liferaft over the starboard, or offshore, side, and began taking to the water. Daley was dazed but obedient. He got in the water by himself, and Ensign Cutter and Ens. Robert W. Hyde, USNR, towed him to the raft.

The crew paddled and swam, trying to guide the raft away from the exploding boat and out to sea. They must have been working against the current, because after 2 hours they were only 700 yards away from the boat, and were considerably shaken by a tremendous explosion. After the explosion the flames subsided somewhat, but the hulk was still burning at dawn.

Several times the survivors saw searchlights’ sweep the bay from shore and heard the shore guns firing. They did not know the guns were firing at the 338, outside the bay. When the heavy battery had first opened on the boats, Davis ordered a high-speed retirement and the 338 laid a smokescreen. When the 337 did not come through the screen, Davis tried repeatedly to reenter the bay, but every time the 338 approached the entrance, the shore battery bracketed the PT so closely that it had to retire. Finally, knowing that the 338 would be a sitting duck not only for shore guns but enemy planes in daylight, Davis set course back to Saidor.

Daley died before dawn and was committed to the sea. That left three officers and eight men in the raft. Besides Cutter, Hyde, Watson, and Canterbury, there were Ens. Bruce S. Bales, USNR; Allen B. Gregory, QM2c, USNR; Harry E. Barnett, RM2c, USNR; Henry S. Timmons, Y2c; Edgar L. Schmidt, TM3c, USNR; Evo A. Fucili, MoMM3c, USNR; and James P. Mitchell, SC3c.

To say that the men were in the raft perhaps gives an exaggerated impression of comfort. It was an oval of balsa, 7 feet by 3, with a slatted bottom open to the waves. With 11 men, it was awash. Usually they did not even try to stay in it at the same time. Some stayed in it and paddled, others tried to guide it by swimming.

At dawn on the 7th the raft still was less than a mile off the entrance of Hansa Bay. During the morning the current carried it toward Manam Island, 6 miles offshore. Cutter wanted to go ashore on Manam, thinking it would be easier to escape detection in the woods than on the surface so close to Hansa Bay. Besides, the men could find food, water, and shelter ashore, and might be able to steal a canoe or a sailboat. All afternoon they paddled and swam, but whenever they came close to shore another current pushed them out again.

–225–


That night Cutter and Bales tried to paddle ashore on logs. If they could get ashore they would try to find a boat and come back for the others. After 3 hours the unaccountable currents swept the two exhausted officers and the raft together again. While they were away, Hyde and Gregory set out to swim to the island. They were not seen again.

During the night the men saw gunfire toward Hansa Bay, as though PT’s and shore batteries were firing at each other, but they saw no PT’s. By dawn of the 8th the raft had drifted around to the north side of Manam, no more than a mile from the beach. Mitchell already had set out to swim to the island. Cutter, Schmidt, and Canterbury were delirious that night. During the storm Canterbury suddenly swam away. Barnett, a strong swimmer, tried to save him, but could not find him. Soon after dawn, Bales, Fucili, and Schmidt also set out for shore. The others were too weak to move. Most of the men thought that Bales, Fucili, and Schmidt reached the island, but Watson, who said he saw Bales walking on the beach, is the only one who claimed to have seen any of them ashore. Soon afterward Japanese were seen on the beach.

Mitchell returned to the raft in the middle of the morning. He was only 75 yards from shore when he saw several Japanese working on the beach, apparently building boats. Plans to go to Manam were abandoned.

Soon after dark that night a small boat put out from shore, circled the raft and stood off at about 200 yards. There were two men in it who, some of the men said, were armed with machine-guns. They made no attempt to molest the men in the raft, but kept close to them until about 0400, when a sudden squall blew up, with 6- to 8-foot waves. When calm came again the boat was nowhere to be seen.

On the morning of the 9th the remaining men, Cutter, Barnett, Timmons, Watson, and Mitchell, saw an overturned Japanese collapsible boat floating a few yards away. It was only 15 feet long, but it looked luxurious in comparison with the raft. They righted it, bailed it and boarded it. Mitchell saw a crab clinging to the boat, and in catching it let the raft slip away. No one thought it was worth retrieving.

The crab was not the only food during the day. Later the men picked up a drifting cocoanut. The food helped some, but the men were tortured by thirst. They had lost their waterbreaker in the storm, and the cocoanut was dry. They were suffering, too, from exposure. Scorched by day and chilled at night, they were covered with salt water sores.

–226–


The night of the 9th and the morning of the 10th were monotonous agony. At noon, three Army B-25’s flew over, wheeled about and circled the boat. Cutter waved his arms, trying to identify himself by semaphore. One of the bombers came in low and dropped a box. It collapsed and sank on hitting the water. Then came two more boxes and a small package attached to a life preserver, all within 10 feet of the boat. The boxes contained food, water, cigarettes, and medicines. In the package was a chart showing their position and a message saying that a Catalina would come to pick them up.

The next morning a Catalina, covered by two P-47’s, circled the boat. The Catalina picked up the five men. Within 2½ hours they were back in Dreger Harbor.

A liferaft is a hard thing to spot. During the 5 days since the loss of the 337, planes by day and PT’s by night had searched for the survivors. Of those who tried to go ashore at Manam, little is known. A captured document indicates that 1 officer and 2 enlisted men were taken prisoner by the Japanese, but none of the crew of the 337 was reported as a prisoner of war.

Schism in the ammo industry

Minnesota-based Vista Outdoor has made an agreement to sell its expansive ammo brands to the Prauge-based Czechoslovak Group.

The $1.9 billion all-cash deal, announced Monday, will see Vista divest a number of classic American ammunition brands including CCI, Federal, Hevi, Remington, and Speer – some of which date back over a century. These are made across four factories in Minnesota and Arkansas and employ approximately 4,000 people.

Other than possibly Olin, who runs the Army’s Lake City Ammo Plant as well as produces Browning and Winchester-branded commercial ammo, Vista was the largest ammo concern in the U.S.

More in my column at Guns.com.

Warship Wednesday, Oct. 18, 2023: The Duel of the Deputado and the Knight

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

Warship Wednesday, Oct. 18, 2023: The Duel of the Deputado and the Knight

Above we see the humble ocean patrol boat (patrulhas de alto mar) Augusto de Castilho of the Portuguese Navy around 1918. If she looks a lot like a cod trawler with a couple of pop guns bolted on as an afterthought, you are correct.

However, her crew was filled with lions, and led by a lawmaker, she foiled one of the Kaiser’s best, some 105 years ago this week.

The Marina do Portugal in the Great War

When the lights went out across Europe in August 1914, Portugal had a decent modern fleet…planned. This included a naval program with a pair of British-built 20,000-ton dreadnoughts, three new cruisers to scout for them, a dozen new 820-ton destroyers to screen for them, and a half dozen new submarines to do underwater stuff.

What they had on hand was a bit different.

The force consisted of the circa 1875 coastal defense “battleship” (cruzador-couraçado) Vasco da Gama and five smallish cruisers (none newer than 1898). Exemplified by prior Warship Wednesday alum Adamastor (1757 tons, 2×6″, 4×4.7″, 2 tt, 18 kts), these cruisers were slow and slight, meant primarily to show the flag in the fading empire’s overseas African and Asian colonies. Augmenting these aging cruisers were a handful of destroyers, torpedo boats, colonial gunboats, and a single Italian Fiat-made submarine.

“Navios da Marinha de Guerra Portugueza no alto “Mar 1903 by Alfredo Roque Gamerio, showing the revamped fleet with the “cruzadors” Vasco da Gama, Don Carlos I, São Rafael, Amelia, and Adamastor to the far right. Note the black hulls and buff stacks/masts. The fact that these ships were all ordered from British, French, and Italian yards at the same time had to have made for some awkward fleet operations, not to mention logistics and training issues.

Meanwhile, the Portuguese merchant fleet, consisting of 66 steamers (totaling 70,000 tons) and 259 sailing ships (totaling another 44,000 tons), needed protecting in the event of a modern anti-commerce U-boat war while offering few vessels ideal to convert to auxiliary cruisers and escorts.

While German and Portuguese colonial troops in Africa were soon fighting each other, and Portugal interned over 30 German and Austrian merchant ships trapped in its ports in 1914– saving them from British and French capture– the three countries did not officially exchange declarations of war until March 1916. That does not mean that little Portugal’s steamers and sailing ships were safe by any means.

The first Portuguese-flagged merchant lost to the conflict was the 248-ton 3-masted schooner Douro sunk off the Wolf Lighthouse in the Scilly Islands on 3 April 1915 (although some sources report the 1,633-ton steamer Mira was sunk on 24 November 1914). In all, no less than 89 Portuguese merchant vessels were lost during the war.

This sets the stage for our story.

Meet Augusto de Castilho

The Bensaúde-owned four-masted fishing schooner Argus, which ranged from the Azores to the Grand Banks searching for cod along with near sisters Creoula and Hortense. Working these vessels the old way was hard, using small dories that would run lines as long as 20 hours a day and return home to Sapal do Rio Coina in Portugal with cod loaded to the gunnels. The Bensaúde family harvested fish this way going back to the 1820s and by 1909 were looking to change.

Our subject was ordered by the firm of Parceria Geral de Pescarias, Lda. (PGP. trans: General Fisheries Partnership), Lisbon, a commercial fishing enterprise founded in 1891 and run largely by the Bensaúde family. Chiefly operating in the Azores, PGP in the early 1900s embarked on a move to modernize its operations by ordering steel-hulled ships for its fleet and beginning the use of artificial drying for cod harvesting.

The company’s first steel-hull steam trawler designed for cod, named the Elite, was ordered from Cochrane & Sons, Selby in Yorkshire as Yard No 453. Launched on 22 April 1909, she was delivered to PGP that same July.

Lloyds lists her as a steel-hulled steam trawler of some 487 tons with an overall length of 160 feet, a beam of 27 and a draft of just over 14. She had an Amos & Smith triple expansion steam engine that could generate 117 nhp on a single shaft, good for 12 knots. Deeply framed, she had electric lighting and a steam-powered hoist.

I cannot find an image of Elite in her PGP days. This is probably because they were brief as she was requisitioned by the Portuguese navy on 13 June 1916, three months after Lisbon, Berlin and Vienna exchanged official declarations of war.

War!

The Portuguese navy requisitioned eleven large trawlers and used eight of these as minesweepers (caça-minas) while three (República, Almirante Paço D’Arcos, and Augusto de Castilho) were equipped for both patrol and sweeping.

Elite entered service soon after as Augusto de Castilho, after Admiral Augusto Vidal de Castilho Barreto e Noronha, who capped a 49-year career in 1908 by becoming minister of the navy and overseas possessions (Ministério da Marinha e Ultramar) before passing in 1912 at age 71. He was also the brother of noted journalist and writer Julio de Castilho, and son of scholar António Feliciano de Castilho, known for developing the Castilho Method of teaching.

ADM Augusto de Castilho (1841-1912)

The fishing vessel’s transformation to a warship simply saw her land her fishing gear, add a paravane that could be used for mechanical minesweeping through the assistance of her existing blocks and hoist, and then mounted a 47mm/40 M1885 QF 3-pounder Hotchkiss over her stern. Later a French-made 65mm/50 M1891 Schneider 9-pounder was installed forward.

So converted and manned by a 41-member crew (nominally two officers, 3 NCOs, 36 enlisted), she reported a top speed of just 9 knots.

Her first skipper, LT Augusto de Almeida Teixeira, while escorting the steamer Loanda between Lisbon and Funchal on 23 March 1918, reportedly opened fire on a German U-boat which immediately dived.

Her next skipper also had a brush with an enemy submarine, with 1LT (Primeiro-tenente) Fernando de Oliveira Pinto, on 21 August 1918, opening fire on a U-boat on the surface off Cape Raso.

Augusto de Castilho’s third skipper, 1LT José Botelho de Carvalho Araújo, assumed command of our little minesweeper in late September 1918. The 37-year-old career naval officer joined the naval academy as a midshipman in 1899 and had served in most of its surface ships including the old ironclad Vasco da Gama, the cruisers Adamastor and São Rafael, the gunboats Zambeze, Liberal, Diu, and Lúrio; the tug Bérrio, and on the transport Salvador Correia.

He was also a political creature, having taken part in the Navy-led revolutions in 1908 and 1910, was elected as a deputado to the Assembleia Constituinte to form the Portuguese Republic in 1911, and again to represent the city of Penafiel in the Portuguese Congress of 1915.

Carvalho Araújo was also appointed a district governor in Mozambique for 18 months, the latter a common task for promising naval officers as at the time the colonies were under the administration of the navy. For campaigning against the Germans in Africa in 1914-15, he earned the Medalha Militar de Prata.

Araujo’s last command before joining the crew of Augusto de Castilho was the minesweeper Manuel de Azevedo Gomes, who detected and destroyed four German mines near the Lisbon bar in early September 1916.

Araujo onboard Augusto de Castilho. The only other officers assigned to the vessel in October were three midshipmen– Manuel Armando Ferraz, Samuel da Conceição Vieira, and Carlos Elói da Mota Freitas. The crew was fleshed out by six NCOs, a telegraphist, a cook, a corpsman, four teenage cabin boys, and 38 assorted enlisted ratings and sailors, many of whom were recent enlistments.

Although the war was winding down in October 1918, with the Kaiser’s High Seas Fleet in near-mutiny, his Army in France on the verge of catastrophe, the Bulgars quitting the conflict, and the Austrians and Ottomans planning on doing so themselves, the U-boat arm was still very much in the game and Germany’s greatest submarine ace was on the prowl.

The new cruiser submarine, SM U-139, unofficially named Kapitänleutnant Schwieger by her skipper, the aristocratic Kptlt. Lothar von Arnauld de la Perière, was on its first war patrol. Make no mistake that it was a green crew or skipper, however, as Arnauld de la Perière had made 14 patrols in the smaller SM U-35, sinking a staggering 189 merchant vessels and two gunboats for a total of 446,708 GRT before he took the helm of U-139, earning the EK1, EK2, and the coveted “Blue Max” Pour le Mérite in the process.

U-139 claimed her first kills with the sinking of the 3,309-ton British steamer Bylands, and the 2,691-ton Italian freighter Manin, then damaging the RN boarding steamer HMS Perth, on the first day of October off Cape Vilano while haunting convoy HG109. The next day, she sank the 300-ton Portuguese three-master Rio Cavado via naval gunfire some 290 miles off Cape Prior. Arnauld de la Perière was very much a fan of using his deck guns rather than spending a torpedo and took most of his targets in such a manner.

Then, on 14 October, U-139, some 100 miles SW of the Azores, came across a juicy target, the Dixon-built 3,200-ton mixed cargo/passenger paquete liner San Miguel of Portugal’s Empresa Insulana de Navegação (EIN) line.

San Miguel in her peacetime livery. In 1918 she was clad in a mottled zigzag camouflage.

With accommodations for 135 passengers, San Miguel was overloaded with 206 souls in addition to her crew and, with a top speed not exceeding 12 knots, had little chance of outrunning a U-boat.

Sailing from Funchal to Ponta Delgada, San Miguel had the benefit of an escort– our Augusto de Castilho, capable of a blistering 9 knots. Placing his craft between U-139 and the liner, Carvalho Araújo and Arnauld de la Perière fought a two-hour surface gunnery duel as San Miguel lit her boilers red and made for the horizon, escaping undamaged.

With the much larger and better-armed U-boat– carrying a pair of 5.9-inch SK L/45 deck guns– versus the converted fishing boat’s lighter guns, the contest was never in any doubt. In the end, the battered Augusto de Castilho, ammunition exhausted, her telegraph and engine out of action, her wheelhouse peppered, her skipper and five men killed, along with another 20 men injured, struck her flag on the order of the wounded Midshipman Armando Ferraz.

Ever the old-school gentleman raider, Arnauld de la Perière allowed the crew of the surrendered vessel who had jumped ship to return to their vessel and stock two whaleboats with rations, a sextant, a compass, and charts.

The crew of U-139 captured images of the aftermath of the battle.

He then sent over a scuttling crew who found Carvalho Araújo on deck, the ship’s ensign covering his broken body, and sent the Portuguese man-o-war to the bottom with demolition charges.

Both whaleboats eventually made shore, with the larger, carrying 37 survivors, arriving at the island of Santa Maria in the Azores two days later with all but one still alive while the second craft with 12 survivors washed up on the more distant island of São Miguel the next week, having traveled 200 miles via paddle.

Arnauld de la Perière and his U-139 closed their final tally sheet with the sinking of Carvalho Araujo. Returning to Germany, U-139 surrendered to France on 24 November and post-Versailles became the French submarine Halbronn.

Lothar von Arnauld de la Perière survived the war, was retained in the Weimar-era Reichsmarine, taught at the Turkish Naval Academy for several years in the early 1930s, and went on to become a vizeadmiral in the WWII Kriegsmarine before perishing in a plane crash in 1941, aged 54. His record [195 ships sunk (455,871 tons) and 8 ships damaged (34,312 tons)] is unsurpassed, but his chance to add San Miguel to that list was spoiled.

1LT Carvalho Araujo was posthumously promoted to Capitão-Tenente and awarded the Cruz de Guerra de 1.ª Classe and the Ordem Militar da Torre e Espada, do Valor, Lealdade e Mérito.

Epilogue

Notably, the only other Portuguese warship sunk in the Great War besides Augusto de Castilho was NRP Roberto Iven, which was the PGB-owned fishing trawler Lordelo, lost in July 1917 between Cabo da Roca and Cabo Espichel to a mine laid by the German submarine UC-54.

As for PGB and the Bensaúde Group, the original owner of our tough little fishing vessel, they remained in the cod business until 1999 then transferred their archives to the Ílhavo Maritime Museum after they closed up shop. The yard that constructed Augusto de Castilho, Cochrane & Sons, faded into history in 1993 and was Selby’s last shipbuilder. The yard’s plans and files are preserved in the North Yorkshire County Record Office.

Augusto Castilho‘s fight with U-139 is remembered across Portugal in a series of maritime artworks.

Mural in the Museu de Marinha

SM U-cruiser U 139 in a battle with a Portuguese gunboat in October 1918. After a 2 hour battle, NRP Augusto Castilho

Combate do Augusto de Castilho com o U-139. Quadro de F. Namura. Museu de Marinha Portugal RM2572-506

Combate do Augusto Castilho by Elisa Felismino in the Museu de Marinha, showing the death of her skipper

Mural in the Museu de Marinha

In 1970, a corvette, NRP Augusto Castilho (F484) entered service to continue the name. She remained on active duty until 2003 and was disposed of in 2010.

BCM-Arquivo Histórico, corvette Augusto Castilho in Lisbon, April 25, 1999 BCM-AH_APEGM_12_41

As for the heroic lost naval hero Carvalho Araújo, streets in no less than 34 Portuguese municipalities bear his name while a bronze statue sculpted by Artur Anjos Teixeira was installed in Vila Real in 1931 and is frequently rendered military honors.

The statue of Carvalho Araújo has its hands clenched defiantly.

The EIN line, whose SS San Miguel survived the war and continued to operate until 1930, replaced her with a new 4,568 GRT Italian-built packet liner named SS Carvalho Araújo.

She continued to sail into the 1970s, and, fittingly for her namesake, often carried Portuguese troops back and forth to Africa.


Ships are more than steel
and wood
And heart of burning coal,
For those who sail upon
them know
That some ships have a
soul.


If you liked this column, please consider joining the International Naval Research Organization (INRO), Publishers of Warship International

They are possibly one of the best sources of naval study, images, and fellowship you can find. http://www.warship.org/membership.htm

The International Naval Research Organization is a non-profit corporation dedicated to the encouragement of the study of naval vessels and their histories, principally in the era of iron and steel warships (about 1860 to date). Its purpose is to provide information and a means of contact for those interested in warships.

With more than 50 years of scholarship, Warship International, the written tome of the INRO has published hundreds of articles, most of which are unique in their sweep and subject.

PRINT still has its place. If you LOVE warships, you should belong.

I’m a member, so should you be!

Volturno Crossing

80 years ago today: A U.S.-supplied M4 Sherman medium tank of 4th County of London Yeomanry (4CLY) making ready to cross the Volturno river at Grazzanise, Italy, 17 October 1943 to take on the German Viktor Line. Note the camouflage on both turret and hull and a rarely seen (in the field) partial wading kit.

Photo by Mott (Sgt), No 2 Army Film & Photographic Unit, IWM NA 7858

The good SGT Mott captured the same tank while it was crossing

Note the recognition flash on the hull and letter on her turret. IWM NA 7859

As noted by Mott on the back of the card for NA 7858:

The bridge built by the RE [Royal Engineers] over the Volturno at Grazzanise would not take the weight of the heavy tanks. Our tank formation found a spot where the water was no more than six feet deep and with the aid of a bulldozer to haul them up the opposite beach, they forded the river.

The 4th County of London Yeomanry (Sharpshooters) was a volunteer cavalry regiment formed in September 1939. However, they trace their lineage back to the old Royal East Kent Mounted Rifles of 1794.

4CLY saw much action across North Africa (including El Alamein), Italy (where several tanks were left submerged in flood-swollen waters), and Normandy, where, suffering serious losses, was amalgamated with 3CLY to form the 3rd/4th County of London Yeomanry (Sharpshooters) in 1944, which went on to help liberate Holland in Market Garden and cross the Rhine.

The Sharpshooters received 42 battle honours (including “Volturno Crossing”) for World War II, a total exceeded by only one other Cavalry or Yeomanry regiment. Individually Sharpshooters received one George Medal, 9 DSOs, 42 MCs, 8 DCMs, and 71 MMs. The regimental roll of honour records 381 names.

The unit, through amalgamations, still exists as 265 (KCLY) Support Squadron in the Territorials while the Kent and Sharpshooters Yeomanry Museum is in Croydon.

Victory is Certain, or Damn the Torpedoes?

The early flight II (VLS-equipped) Ticonderoga-class cruiser USS San Jacinto (CG-56) is the third U.S. Navy warship named in honor of the decisive 1836 battle of the Texas Revolution, following in the path of a Civil War-era screw frigate and a WWII light carrier (CVL-30). Ingalls-built at Pascagoula, she was commissioned in 1988 and, among other notable service over the past 35 years, fired the opening shots of Operation Desert Storm.

San Jac received a Navy Unit Commendation from the Secretary of the Navy for exceptional support of the Eisenhower Strike Group during their difficult Covid-era 206-day, no port visit, 2020 deployment.

San Jacinto decommissioned on 15 September 2023 in a ceremony at Norfolk, joining sisterships USS Lake Champlain (CG-57), USS Mobile Bay (CG-53), and USS Bunker Hill (CG-52) who likewise have been paid off this year with USS Vicksburg (CG-69) still to go on the schedule.

Before the end of the year, just 12 of the 27 members of the class will be active going into next year. The Navy plans to put the final Ticos in mothballs by the end of FY 27.

San Jac, whose motto is “Victory is Certain,” after a quote from General Sam Houston’s speech as he spoke to his outnumbered men before the Battle of San Jacinto, was towed off to Philadelphia’s “red lead row” this week.

Since the battleship USS Texas’s old berth at San Jacinto Battlegrounds is vacant, it has been floated by some that the recently decommissioned USS San Jacinto (CG-56) should take it over.

There is a certain logic to that as she is orders of magnitude smaller and in better material condition than a 28,000-ton battleship with a 113-year-old riveted steel hull. Yes, the USS Texas (BB 35), once she leaves drydock, will be going somewhere else, likely Galveston, as the San Jac battlefield is low-traffic and not enough to sustain the Two World War veteran dreadnought, it is about time that a circa 1980s Cold War Reagan/Lehman-era vessel is preserved as none of the Sprucans, Perrys, Knoxes, Garcias, Adams, or assorted classes of CGs have been. Besides the obvious Texas tie-in, she would be a centrally located mecca for former bluejackets from the “600 Ship Navy” as well as Gulf War vets. 

Sure, the circuit boards on all the commo, sensors, and EW gear will have to be removed and her VLS, CIWS, Harpoon cans, Mk.32s, and Mk.45s demilled, but it could be done fairly easily.

If not San Jacinto, then I suggest taking her sister and fellow Gulf War vet, USS Mobile Bay (CG-53), and putting her alongside the old SoDak-class battlewagon-turned-museum ship USS Alabama (BB 60), which gets plenty of traffic. That would update that particular park past its current WWII-Korean War focus as well as highlight the nearby (an hour away) Ingalls shipbuilding, where she was built. Ingalls would likely get behind such an effort as well. 

SAN DIEGO (Aug.10, 2023) – The Ticonderoga-class guided-missile cruiser USS Mobile Bay (CG 53) sits pier side during a decommissioning ceremony. The Mobile Bay was decommissioned after more than 36 years of distinguished service. Commissioned Feb. 21, 1987, Mobile Bay served in the U.S. Atlantic, Seventh, and U.S. Pacific Fleet and supported Operation Desert Storm. (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 2nd Class Stevin C. Atkins)

Food for thought.

As these old Ticos will likely be disposed of sometime after 2027, the time to start the ball rolling on a museum ship is now. 

Selectable Binary Glock: The G-S173

Two years ago, Nevada-based Franklin Armory broke SHOT Show by appearing at the event with the first commercial selector-switch-equipped slide with a companion two-position binary trigger for a 9mm striker-fired pistol. Set up especially for the Gen 3 Glock 17, it had all the G18-style aesthetic (while being NFA compliant) and a crowd-pleasing ability for binary fire – which allows the user to fire a round both on the pull of the trigger and the release.

The two-position selector. To cancel the release round on G-S173, simply move the selector lever located on the slide from binary to the “semi” position before releasing the trigger.

With some practice, 17-round mags ran dry in right around two seconds at SHOT Show 2022.

Rather than just “spray and pray” giggle time kinda fun on the range, such triggers have a very valid application. When used properly and with sufficient training, users will see much-reduced split times and produce tighter groupings, especially when running controlled pairs.

Fast forward to this week and Franklin Armory has released the G-S173 to the public– and I got one.

More in my column at Guns.com.

News from Pascagoula…

Ingalls has been busy in the past couple of weeks.

The 10th national security cutter Calhoun (WMSL 759) was signed over to the U.S. Coast Guard last Friday.

How about some great images from Ingalls on the cutter’s sea trials earlier this summer?

Calhoun (WMSL 759) pictured in the Gulf of Mexico during builder’s trials in June 2023. HII photo

Calhoun (WMSL 759) pictured in the Gulf of Mexico during builder’s trials in June 2023. HII photo

Calhoun (WMSL 759) pictured in the Gulf of Mexico during builder’s trials in June 2023. HII photo

NSC 10 is named to honor Charles L. Calhoun, the first master chief petty Officer of the U.S. Coast Guard. Calhoun served in the U.S. Navy for three years during World War II and was honorably discharged in 1946 as a torpedoman’s mate petty officer 2nd class. He enlisted in the Coast Guard that same year and held varying positions of leadership over the course of his career.

The NSCs have been very busy, especially in Alaskan waters and in West Pac cruises, where they have essentially been clocking in as frigates, types the Navy no longer has.

The 11th NSC, the future USCGC Friedman (WMSL 760) is under construction and long lead materials for an unfunded 12th NSC have been purchased, although some $300 million was included in last year’s NDAA for the thus-far-unordered cutter. As the line is still hot and the first of the planned Constellation-class FFGs are expected to start hitting the water until at least late 2026, pulling the trigger on NSC 12 just makes sense. 

Bougainville hits the water

The Navy’s third America-class amphibious assault ship (and the first with a well deck) the future USS Bougainville (LHA 8) was launched from its floating dock into the Pascagoula River earlier this month after the 40,000-ton vessel translated from land to the company’s floating dry dock using translation railcars to support the ship in September.

As noted by Ingalls:

Bougainville is the first ship in the America class to be built with a well deck. The ship will retain aviation capabilities while adding the surface assault capability of a well deck and a larger flight deck configured for F-35B Joint Strike Fighter and MV-22 Osprey aircraft. These large-deck amphibious assault ships also include top-of-the-line medical facilities with full operating suites and triage capabilities.

Ingalls has delivered 15 large-deck amphibious ships to the U.S. Navy. The shipyard delivered the first in the new America class of amphibious assault ships (LHA 6) in 2014. The second ship in the America class, USS Tripoli (LHA 7), was delivered to the Navy in early 2020. In addition to Bougainville, Fallujah (LHA 9) is also under construction, and the company authenticated the keel during a ceremony in September 2023.

First Flight III Burke joins the fleet

The U.S. Navy commissioned the first Flight III Arleigh Burke-class guided-missile destroyer, the Pascagoula-built USS Jack H. Lucas (DDG 125), on Sat., Oct. 7, 2023, in Tampa, Florida. The shipbuilder has delivered 35 Burke-class destroyers to the U.S. Navy, with four currently under construction.

Sailors man the rails during the commissioning ceremony for the Arleigh Burke class Flight III guided-missile destroyer USS Jack H Lucas (DDG 125) in Tampa, Florida Oct. 7, 2023. (DoD photo by EJ Hersom)

The new destroyer carries a superb name. 

Jacklyn Harold “Jack” Lucas was a great man, earning the MoH at age 17 as a Marine on Iwo Jima. I met him years ago at an event in Hattiesburg and he was humble and gregarious. 

Bush War Echoes: Espingarda M/961 Kits

Apex has pulled a rabbit out of the hat with a small supply of parts kits drawn from vintage “Pre-G3” HK rifles. Officially dubbed the Espingarda automática 7,62 mm M/961 by the Portuguese military, these were only made for three years before the contract changed to producing the plastic-furniture M/963, which was by far the more widespread model.

The M/961 was very interesting as it used an early first pattern muzzle brake, ventilated stamped steel hand guards, a folding bi-pod, a flip sight (rather than the rotating drum sight), and a painted wooden buttstock modeled on the one used by the preceding Spanish CETME 58.

The M/961, note the cheesegrater handguards

The much more commonly-encountered HK G3 (M/963)

Portugal used these rifles in its series of Colonial wars in Africa in the 1960s and 70s in Angola, Guinea, and Mozambique, alongside the P-38 Walther, and the Portuguese Marines (Corpo de Fuzileiros) still use them, outfitted with some more modern accessories and handguards.

Apex just announced a parts kit of these old M/961s (that they call M/61 but anyway) that come complete with the stamped steel hand guards, folding bi-pod, flip sight, and wood stock. Parts have been sorted for matching numbers on the buttstock ferrule, fire control group housing, bolt, and carrier.

They are kind of spendy ($1,500), but you can always get a regular G3 set for $399 if you are a cheapskate.

More in the video below

What a Difference a Year Makes

Laid down at Newport News on the 1st anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor, 7 December 1942, CV-13 officially earned her name some 80 years ago today on 14 October 1943.

The future USS Franklin (CV-13) at launch was sponsored by the indomitable LCDR Mildred A. McAfee, USNR (Vassar 1920), then-director of the Women Accepted for Volunteer Emergency Service, better known as the WAVES, and she smashed the bottle in full uniform, as shown in the below photo of the event.

Lieutenant Commander Mildred H. McAfee, USNR, Director of the Women’s Reserve, christens USS Franklin (CV 13) at its launching at the Newport News Shipbuilding and Drydock Company. Released October 14, 1943. U.S. Navy photograph, now in the collections of the National Archives. 80-G-43444

And how about this great period Kodachrome of “Big Ben” floating out, with McAfee and eight of her fellow WAVES in the foreground.

PCU USS Franklin (CV-13). The ship floated out of her building dock immediately after christening, at the Newport News Shipbuilding and Drydock Company shipyard, Newport News, Virginia, on 14 October 1943. 80-G-K-14015

The third USS Franklin was rushed to completion and commissioned just over three months later on 31 January 1944. Following a shakedown cruise, she crossed through the Panama Canal and reported for duty with TG 58.2 on 16 June 1944.

Quickly involved in the war, she supported the invasion of Saipan and of Peleliu, her planes raided Formosa and Okinawa, and by October she was taking part in the liberation of the Philippines which included the pivotal Battle of Leyte Gulf. In those not quite five months, her air group, CVG-12, logged 338 enemy planes damaged and/or destroyed, 409,500 tons of enemy shipping sunk and/or damaged, and 3,971 combat sorties flown.

It was on 30 October, just over a year past her launching, that Franklin encountered the Divine Wind off Samar Island.

As detailed by DANFS:

At 1405, VF-13 launched 12 Hellcats in response to an urgent request from a nearby fleet tanker that reported she was under attack by Japanese planes. Franklin’s crew went to general quarters and “no sooner had the fighters left the deck than Franklin was subjected to a bombing attack.” At the exact moment of the attack, the destroyer Bagley (DD-386) had been alongside Franklin taking on fuel, but quickly cast off. Six enemy planes identified as a mixture of Zekes and Yokosuka D4Y Suisei carrier bombers (Judys), came in at high speed “targeting the formation at about 3,000 feet.”

One of the planes, a Judy, “dove over Franklin,” just missing her starboard side, amidships. A Zeke, observed to still be carrying bombs then intentionally crashed into the carrier’s flight deck inboard of the No. 5 and No. 7, 5-inch mounts. A terrific explosion followed which caused a ferocious fire to sweep the nearby planes on the flight and hanger deck. A third low-flying plane attempted to bomb Franklin, but narrowly missed the carrier’s starboard side. The Japanese pilot then crashed his plane into the after portion of the Belleau Wood (CVL-24).

Two other Japanese planes crashed into the water as a result of errant suicide dives and a third one was shot down by Franklin’s gunners just as it was attempting to crash into Enterprise. Approximately 20 minutes after the attack on Franklin began additional fires broke out on the hanger deck and swept the second and third decks between frames 110 and 150. “All hands turned to,” and at about 1530 the flight deck fire was finally extinguished with the hanger deck fire lingering on until 1625. By 1800, all fires on board the carrier had been arrested with the exception of some that were still smoldering below decks. In total, casualties included 56 killed and 60 wounded.

USS Franklin (CV-13), at right, and USS Belleau Wood (CVL-24) Afire after being hit by Japanese Kamikaze suicide planes, while operating off the Philippines on 30 October 1944. Photographed from USS Brush (DD-745. Note flak bursts over the ships. 80-G-326798

The damage was considerable and she made for Puget Sound Naval Yard via Ulithi and Pearl Harbor for repairs, knocking her out of the war for four months.

USS Franklin (CV 13), damage to flight deck following Japanese kamikaze attack on 30 October 1944. 80-G-270814

USS Franklin (CV 13), damage to V-2 spaces following Japanese kamikaze attack on 30 October 1944. 80-G-270811

Heading back West in March 1945 with Carrier Air Group 5 embarked, Franklin would suffer through her much more extensive and well-known brush with the kamikaze shortly after.

As for the good LCDR McAfee, she would leave the Navy in 1946 as a full captain, the WAVES growing to some 80,000 in number. She went on to return to the presidency of Wellesley College, sit on the board of a number of different corporations, and passed the bar in 1994, far outliving “Big Ben” which, laid up post-war, was quietly disposed of in 1966.

« Older Entries Recent Entries »