Warship Wednesday, Oct. 25, 2023: The Busy Bee

Here at LSOZI, we take off every Wednesday to 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. 25, 2023: The Busy Bee

Official U.S. Navy Photograph, now in the collections of the National Archives. Catalog #: 80-G-K-2849

Above we see a beautiful period original Kodachrome of the 6-inch/47 caliber Mark 16 guns blooming on the new Cleveland-class light cruiser USS Biloxi (CL-80) as she was underway on her shakedown cruise in October 1943, some 80 years ago this month.

In less than two years in service, she would steam 202,126 miles and earn nine battle stars in the Pacific, shooting down eight Japanese aircraft, contributing to the sinking of three enemy ships including two destroyers, and delivering naval gunfire on the regular– while proving “double lucky” when the Empire struck back and only suffering a single bluejacket wounded in enemy action during her career.

The Clevelands

When the U.S. Navy took off the shackles of the London Naval Treaty and moved to make a series of new light cruisers, they based the design on the last “treaty” limited 10,000-ton Brooklyn-class light cruiser, USS Helena (CL-50), which was commissioned in 1939 (and was torpedoed and sunk in the Battle of Kula Gulf in 1943).

The resulting Cleveland class was stood up fast, with the first ship laid down in July 1940. Soon, four East Coast shipyards were filling their ways with their hulls.

The Cleveland class, via ONI 54R, 1943

The changes to the design were mostly in the armament, with the new light cruisers carrying a dozen 6″/47 Mark 16 guns in four triple turrets– rather than the 15 guns arranged in five turrets in Helena as the latter’s No. 3 gun turret was deleted.

The modification allowed for a stronger secondary armament (6 dual 5″/38 mounts and as many as 28 40mm Bofors and 20 20mm Oerlikon guns) as well as some strengthening in the hull. Notably, the latter may have worked as one of the class, USS Houston (CL-81) survived two torpedo hits and remained afloat with 7,000 tons of seawater sloshing around inside her frames, and another sister, USS Miami (CL-89), lost her bow to Typhoon Cobra but lived to tell the tale.

Much overloaded at more than 14,000 tons when fully loaded, these ships were cramped and top-heavy, which led to many further mods such as deleting catapults, aircraft, and rangefinders as the conflict went on to keep them from rolling dangerously.

Although 52 hulls were planned, only 27 made it to the fleet as cruisers while nine were completed while on the craving dock to Independence-class light carriers. A further baker’s dozen (of which only two were completed, and those too late for WWII service) were reordered as Fargo-class cruisers, which was basically a Cleveland with a single funnel and a redesigned, more compact, superstructure.

Remarkably, although the Clevelands saw much hard service in WWII, none were lost in action. No other cruiser design in history has seen so many units sail off to war and all return home.

The Cleveland class in the 1946 edition of Jane’s.

Meet USS Biloxi

Our subject is, for some unknown reason, the only warship to have ever carried the name of the hard-partying pearl of the Mississippi Gulf Coast, a city that traces its origin to D’Iberville’s landing in 1699 and past that to the Indian tribe that lived in its coastal marshes.

Laid down on 9 July 1941 at Newport News, USS Biloxi was launched on 23 February 1943, christened by the mayor’s wife, Katherine G “Kate” Jones Braun, and commissioned on 31 August 1943. The 25-month gestation period was a record for the class at the time and her construction bill ran $19,272,500.

Launching of the future USS Biloxi (CL 80) at the Newport News Shipbuilding and Dry Dock Company, via Navsource. She was one of eight Clevelands built at Newport News including Birmingham, Mobile, Houston, Vicksburg, Duluth, Amsterdam, and Portsmouth.

USS Biloxi (CL-80) underway at sea, circa late 1943. Note she doesn’t have her floatplane complement aboard. NH 45698

USS Biloxi (CL-80) early in her career, likely in September 1943 while in the Chesapeake. Her armament can be well-judged by this photo and the one above. NH 98263

By October, the brand-new cruiser was shaking the bulkheads in her initial training cruise in Chesapeake Bay then made for Trinidad to spend the first three weeks of October in battle drills. It was during this period that an amazing series of images were captured.

USS Biloxi (CL-80) on shakedown in October 1943 as her crew airs their bedding over the rails. Photo from the Allison collection, MacArthur Museum of Arkansas Military History.

USS Biloxi (CL-80) underway during her shakedown cruise, in October 1943. She is painted in Measure 21 (overall Navy Blue) camouflage. 80-G-K-2826-A

USS Biloxi (CL-80) steams in a turn, during her shakedown cruise, October 1943. 80-G-K-2826-B

USS Biloxi (CL-80). Ship’s 1,200~ crew and 80 officers in full summer/tropical whites, during her shakedown period, October 1943. They are posed on her forecastle and forward superstructure. 80-G-K-2834

USS Biloxi (CL-80) Firing her 6″/47 cal main battery guns while steaming in a turn, during her shakedown cruise, in October 1943. 80-G-K-2850

USS Biloxi (CL-80) 40mm quad-mounted guns were fired during battle practice while the ship was shaking down in October 1943. The view looks forward along the ship’s port side, with a 5/38 twin gun mount beyond the 40mm guns. 80-G-K-2844

USS Biloxi (CL-80) 40mm quad-mounted antiaircraft machine guns in action, during a shakedown cruise battle practice, October 1943. 80-G-K-14526

USS Biloxi (CL-80) one of the cruiser’s 40mm quad guns in action during her shakedown cruise, circa early 1943. Note shell cases being ejected to the deck before the gun mounting, and loaders feeding fresh shells. 80-G-K-14525

USS Biloxi (CL-80) view of signal flag “Bags” from atop the forward superstructure with the starboard forward quad 40mm gun mount beyond. Taken during the ship’s shakedown cruise, in October 1943. Note signal lamp and RDF loop. 80-G-K-2830

USS Biloxi (CL-80) personnel inspection on the ship’s afterdeck, during her shakedown period, circa October 1943. Note her aircraft catapults, with Curtiss SO3C-1 Seamew floatplanes on top, and her hangar hatch cover. Between the twin cats and their below-deck hangar, the Clevelands could carry as many as five aircraft as designed although typically carried half that complement. 80-G-K-2832

USS Biloxi (CL-80) prepares to catapult a Curtiss SO3C-1 Seamew from her starboard catapult, during her shakedown, circa October 1943. Note that the port catapult and plane have been turned to clear the launching area, before training the starboard catapult. 80-G-K-2838

USS Biloxi (CL-80) turns into the wind, as she prepares to catapult a Curtiss SO3C-1 Seamew while on shakedown, circa October 1943. Only 171 SO3C-1s were built and, with an eight-hour endurance, were mainly for gunfire correction and recon, although they could carry up to 325 pounds of small bombs or depth charges under the wings. 80-G-K-2837

USS Biloxi (CL-80) catapults a Curtiss SO3C-1 Seamew floatplane, during her shakedown period, circa October 1943. Note the plane’s national insignia, with the red surround briefly used in mid-1943. 80-G-K-2836

USS Biloxi (CL-80) catapults a SO3C-1 Seamew while on shakedown, circa October 1943. The cruiser lost one of her four SO3Cs during these ops while in a landing attempt off the port beam. Both the pilot and passenger, Ensign H. Jolly and ACMM J. Phagan, were rescued and the wreck was destroyed by gunfire as a hazard to navigation. 80-G-K-2835

Check out a typical naval gunfire support floatplane operation when calling shot: 

Floatplane calling fire USS Biloxi Wotje Jan 30, 1944, from Biloxi’s war diary

War!

Biloxi sailed south for San Francisco via the Canal Zone on 20 November, where she swapped out her quartet of SO3C Seamews or a pair of Vought OS2U Kingfishers, then, after more exercises, put to sea for the Marshall Islands after the New Year to take part in Operation Flintlock, the invasion of Kwajalein.

USS Biloxi in the Pacific, 1944. US Navy Photo 117-20

Working the Marshall Islands in late January-early February 1944 as part of Task Group 53.5, alongside sisters USS Sante Fe and USS Mobile and accompanying destroyers, Biloxi bombarded Wotje and covered the landings on Roi. This saw Biloxi fire a whopping 4,354 6″/47 and 5″/38 shells while her two floatplanes dropped 10 100-pound bombs on targets of opportunity.

Check out these tracks while delivering fire over two days. 

She also tasted Japanese steel off Wotje, receiving fire from shore-based 4.7-inch coastal guns from about 10,000 yards with several salvos coming “uncomfortably close” and one near miss hitting the water just 50 yards from the ship, breaking up and ricocheting into the forward superstructure.

Injured was Biloxi’s only wartime casualty from enemy fire, Fireman 1c Walter Henry Grunst, 8748444, USNR, of Toledo, Ohio, wounded slightly by shrapnel in “the right buttock” with the disposition noted in Biloxi’s report that he was to be “retained aboard” for recovery rather than transferred out to a hospital ship or ashore.

Poor guy.

Off Saipan in two days (Feb 19-22) while screening carriers, Biloxi endured four large Japanese air raids, downing at least one aircraft with her 5-inch battery.

Covering the carrier USS Bunker Hill during the invasion of Saipan, Biloxi’s gunners accounted for two D4Y Yokosuka Judy dive bombers on 19 June 1944 during the Great Marianas Turkey Shoot, splashed by 56 rounds of 5″/38 AA, 1,360 40mm shells, and 1,197 20mm shells. She claimed another kill the next day.

On Independence Day 1944, Biloxi, sailing with sister Sante Fe and destroyers, lit up Iwo Jima with 531 6″/47 and 389 5″/38 shells.

During an anti-shipping sweep against a reported enemy convoy and bombardment raid of Chichi Jima with Task Unit 58.1.6 (sisters Santa Fe, Mobile, and Oakland, destroyers Izard, Burns, Brown, and Charrette) on 4 August 1944, Biloxi engaged what it thought at the time was a Japanese destroyer and cargo vessel.

The ships wound up being the collier Ryoku Maru (5626 tons) and the Japanese escort destroyer Matsu (1,262 tons) of Japanese Convoy 4804. The dawn brought an ineffective Japanese air attack from two high-level Betty bombers, as well as the bombardment of the island by Biloxi and company the next day.

Another raid of Chichi Jima & Iwo Jima at the end of the month going into September was productive, with Biloxi firing another 875 rounds of 6″/47 and 363 of 5″/38 on an array of ashore installations and sheltered vessels.

Further raids on the Ryukyu Island and on Formosa set the stage for preparation for the Leyte landings, the liberation of the Philippines, and one of the largest naval clashes in history.

As part of this, on the night of 26 October, Biloxi, sailing as part of CruDiv 14 in line with sisters USS Vincennes and Miami and DesDiv 103’s Miller, Owen, and Lewis Hancock, engaged what was believed to be a Japanese cruiser. In 10 minutes– with breaks for maneuvering and checking fire–Biloxi alone “smothered the target” with 170 6″/47 steel cap HCs as viewed through the Mark 8 radar screen, all done at a range between 18,050 yards for the first salvo and 16,375 yards for the last.

The contact turned out to be the Japanese destroyer Nowaki, crowded with survivors from the lost Tone-class heavy cruiser Chikuma (which in turn had sunk the escort carrier Gambier Bay earlier in the week). Nowaki was sent to the bottom with all hands during this surface action, 65 miles south-southeast of Legaspi.

The lesson learned was dramatic.

On 29 October, Biloxi, screening the carrier USS Intrepid off Morotai, was credited with two shared kills against a swarm of Judys and Zekes.

Moving to support the landings in the Eastern Philippines in November, screening along with sisters USS Mobile and Sante Fe, and battleships USS Washington and North Carolina, of the fast carriers USS Essex, USS Ticonderoga, and light carrier Langley, Biloxi had to fill the air on several occasions with 5″/38, 40mm and 20mm ack-ack, credited with downing a Japanese dive bomber just off of Essex on 25 November.

Task Group 38.3 Enters Ulithi Anchorage After Strikes in Philippines Islands, 12 December 1944. USS Langley (CVL-27), USS Ticonderoga (CV-14), USS Washington (BB 56), USS North Carolina (BB-55), USS South Dakota (BB-57), USS Santa Fe (CL-60), USS Biloxi (CL-80), USS Mobile (CL-63), and USS Oakland (Cl-95). 80-G-301352

Same as above, showing USS Washington (BB 56), USS North Carolina (BB-55), USS South Dakota (BB-57), USS Santa Fe (CL-60), and USS Biloxi (CL-80), 80-G-301351

January 1945 had Biloxi tag along to screen Slim McCain’s fast carrier strikes on Japanese-occupied French Indochina and Hong Kong, losing one of her bluejackets, S1c Daniel A. Little, to a rogue wave– the first loss of life suffered by Biloxi’s crew.

February brought the Operation Detachment landings at Iwo Jima, which included suppressing fire on D-day, calling fire on D+1 and D+2, and harassing night fires. In this, she let fly almost 2,400 5-inch and 6-inch shells in three days.

It was during this period on 21 February that the ship was hit by its own shells, with No. 5 5″/38 mounts being hit and the gun captain of the No. 5 40mm mount, BM2c Leroy Vannatter, knocked out by concussion and dazed, S1c Ralph Henry suffering a compound fracture, and S1c Cecil Ott left with shrapnel wounds. All were retained aboard but the No. 5 5″/38 mount was knocked out.

The heavy cruiser USS Pensacola (CA-24) was photographed against Suribachi on the morning of 21 February 1945. On the right is the USS Biloxi (CL-80). Note the planes in formation overhead. Barely visible. Of note, while P-Cola was ostensibly a heavy cruiser and carried 8-inch guns rather than 6-inchers, Biloxi outweighed her by over 3,000 tons by this stage of the war.

Then came Operation Iceberg, the landings on Okinawa.

On 27 March off Okinawa, Biloxi participated in repulsing a kamikaze attack in which she expended 100 rounds of 5″/38, 897 of 40mm, and 2,653 of 20mm against an incoming wave of six Vals and Irvings. It was a swirling mess that lasted 15 minutes but left four of the five planes splashed. However, one of these planes wound up leaving Biloxi with one heck of a souvenir.

It was a wild event: 

Official caption: On the morning of March 27, 1945, during Okinawa preparations four suicide planes attacked the light cruiser, USS Biloxi. Three were shot down in flames but the fourth broke through the umbrella of ack-ack to smash itself against the cruiser’s side. Later investigation revealed a 1,100 bomb that failed to explode. Rendered harmless, the bomb became the prized possession of the quarterdeck where it is shown being examined by Major Anthony V. Ragusin (right) of Biloxi, Miss., and Ensign Jack Fisher, USNR, of Natchitoches, La., both of whom are attached to the staff of the Commander in Chief Pacific Ocean Areas.

She shrugged off her wounds and continued fighting off almost daily kamikaze runs, typically by single aircraft, and downed at least one more, a radar-assisted kill on a night bomber on 16 April utilizing the Mk. 37 and Mk. 1 computer for solutions. In all, during her nearly month-long duty off Okinawa, she fired over 6,000 rounds at incoming aircraft.

USS Biloxi (CL-80) shelling Japanese positions on Okinawa, 30 March 1945. USS Portland (CA-33) is in the left background, also taking part in the bombardment. Photographed from USS West Virginia (BB-48). 80-G-315085

Cruisers maneuver into the battle line to bombard Okinawa. Seen from the battleship USS West Virginia (BB-48). The nearest CL should be USS Biloxi beyond her maybe USS Pensacola. These two cruisers were in the same group as BB-48. 80-G-K-3831 (Color)

In 26 days on the line off Okinawa from 26 March to 20 April, Biloxi fired over 9,700 rounds of 5 and 6-inch shells in shore bombardment (as well as 1,048 40mm shells when she got within 3,000 yards of the beach to support UDT operations). Her NGFS included night harassment fire missions, covering landings, call fire for support from ground troops ashore, and interdiction, and that above total doesn’t even count 837 5-inch star shell illumination rounds.

A rundown of her directed bombardments in Okinawa:

Her only casualty off Okinawa was one of her OS2U floatplanes, lost on 28 March during recovery, with the pilot rescued by a nearby destroyer (USS Foreman) on plane guard and returned via Highline.

In all, she logged 18,082 shells of all calibers fired in her month off Okinawa.

More than three weeks after she caught her kamikaze bomb, Biloxi shoved off for the West Coast, capping a 16-month extended first cruise, arriving at San Francisco via Pearl Harbor on 11 May for refit and repair.

On 8 August 1945, while headed back from the West Coast to Ulithi to rejoin the fleet, she hit occupied Wake Island along with the cruiser Pensacola, soaking the atoll with 282 6″/47 HC rounds and 249 of 5″/38 AAC. In this, she received counterbattery fire from Japanese 4.7-inch and 8-inch guns dug in ashore with some shells coming as close as 700 yards and her spotting plane was riddled with AAA but the Busy Bee, true to form, had no casualties.

Her targets were varied: 

Biloxi was at anchor in Buckner Bay, Okinawa on VJ-Day, clustered among seven sisters of CruDiv 12 and 13. She got underway on 5 September as part of RADM Fahrion’s POW Evacuation Group (TG 55.7) and proceeded to atom-bomb devastated Nagasaki soon after, using her Marine detachment as ashore security.

She took on 217 RAMPs (Recovered Allied Military Personnel) from the U.S. (11), Britain (17), Australia (1), Canada (1), and Holland (187) on the 18th and took them to Okinawa for further repatriation home from there.

Wrapping up occupation duty, Biloxi sailed from Nagoya on 8 November with 10 extra officers and 289 enlisted passengers for Okinawa where she took on another 15 officers and 74 enlisted passengers on the 11th then let out for San Francisco via Pearl Harbor, arriving in California just after Thanksgiving 1945 with her ~400 odd passengers and 1,285 man crew.

Not able to enjoy Christmas at home, Biloxi was sent back to Okinawa on 2 December on a magic carpet run at “capacity personnel,” returning to San Francisco on the 29th.

Just after the New Year, she shifted to Puget Sound Naval Shipyard where, upon decommissioning on 29 October 1946, she joined the Great Grey Reserve Fleet and never lit her boilers nor fired her guns again.

She earned nine battle stars for her wartime service:

And has a memorial marker at the National Museum of the Pacific War (Nimitz Museum)

Epilogue

The Clevelands, always overloaded and top-heavy despite their hard service and dependability, were poor choices for post-war service and most were laid up directly after VJ Day with only one, USS Manchester (CL-83), still in service as an all-gun cruiser past 1950, lingering until 1956 and seeing much Korean War duty, successfully completing three combat tours with no major battle damage.

Six went on to see further service as Galveston and Providence-class missile slingers after an extensive topside rebuild and remained in service through the 1970s. One of these, USS Little Rock (CL-92/CLG-4/CG-4) has been preserved at the Buffalo Naval & Military Park, the only Cleveland currently above water.

As for our Biloxi, she was stricken in 1960 and sold in 1962 to Zidell Explorations, Portland, for dismantling.

Biloxi is seen being tugged to the breakers’ yard near Portland, Oregon, in 1962. (Dave Schroeder and John Chiquoine via Navsource)

Her war diaries, deck logs, and war history are digitized online in the National Archives.

Linberg paid homage to the Busy Bee with a scale model that kiddies of the day could get in conjunction with Alfa Bits cereal.

The Library of Congress has several oral histories collected from her wartime crew similarly available.

Meanwhile, the University of Southern Mississippi maintains the USS Biloxi Collection of articles, photos, and papers. The USS Biloxi Association, whose members have almost all passed the bar, established a scholarship at USM to a graduating senior from Biloxi High School that endures.

The town of Biloxi and the Mississippi Gulf Coast in general wholeheartedly adopted “their ship” and the area was awash with USS Biloxi artwork in calendars, postcards, and posters for decades even after the ship was mothballed.

She graced the cover of the First Bank of Biloxi’s calendar for years. Note this is a stylized version of US Navy Photo 117-20, above.

Lots of elements from Biloxi were salvaged for preservation including her bell, boiler and builder’s plates, and a 45-foot section of her main mast. These were shipped back home to Biloxi for installation by the City. Whereas the bell and small items have floated around various city buildings ever since, the mast was installed at what is now Biloxi’s Guice Park, located beachside on U.S. 90 at the Biloxi Small Craft Harbor, arranged by a battery of old French colonial cannon that had long ago been pulled from the bayou.

The Seabees of NMCB 121, located in nearby Gulfport, installed the mast in 1967 just before it deployed to Phu Bai, South Vietnam, and it has since been joined by a Purple Heart and Gold Star monument.

Via NMCB 121’s 1967-68 cruise book.

The mast has since survived direct hits from Hurricanes Camille (1969), Frederic (1979), Elena (1985), Georges (1998), Katrina/Rita (2005), Nate (2017), and Zeta (2020), showing that the ‘Bees of NCB-121 knew what they were doing. Of course, the mast gets love not only from the City but also from the Navy, with the Naval Oceanography Operations Command in nearby Bay St. Louis adopting the monument as a community service project.

(Photo: Chris Eger)

And these days, with the giant Hard Rock Casino now parked next door, is home to a large osprey nest that has been built on the mast’s long-empty radar platform. (Photo: Chris Eger)

The bell, plates, muzzle caps, telegraphs, binnacle, and other relics are well preserved and on public display in the recently rebuilt (post-Katrina) Maritime & Seafood Industry Museum which has had custody of the items since the 1980s.

(Photo: Chris Eger)

(Photo: Chris Eger)

(Photo: Chris Eger)

Along with a four-foot scale model of the USS Biloxi in her 1944 appearance. (Photo: Chris Eger)

If only the Navy would bestow the name to another USS Biloxi, we’d be set.


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


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Masters of the Ice

Some 64 years ago this month: The last U.S. Coast Guard Boeing PB-1G “Flying Lifeboat” CG-77254 parked next to the first Coastie Lockheed SC-130B Hercules; beyond them is a Coastie R5D Skymaster seen at Coast Guard Air Station Elizabeth City, in 1959. The final PB-1G, the last B-17 Flying Fortress in U.S. military service, as far as I can tell, was not withdrawn from service until October 1959.

USCG photo

Converted B-17G bombers, the PB-1G carried no armament and, in addition to Loran, fitted a surface search radar in place of the chin mount, but still toted the Norden bombsight. It came in handy when dropping the self-bailing lifeboat it carried under the belly.

As noted by the USCG Aviation History Association:

Eighteen B-17Gs were set aside by the USAAF for transfer via the US Navy to the Coast Guard to be used as search and rescue aircraft. Rework began to convert the aircraft in question for search and rescue duties. On 1 January 1946, the Coast Guard was returned to the Treasury Department, but nevertheless, the Navy continued to rework the B-17s and transferred the first of 18 to the Coast Guard in July 1946. These aircraft were Lockheed-Vega and carried Navy serial numbers. An additional PB-1G was obtained directly from the USAAF in 1947 and it served with a truncated AAF serial number. Two additional aircraft PB-1R configured for VIP operation and one aircraft configured for photo mapping were also provided.

The PB-1Gs were stationed throughout the hemisphere and were used primarily for search and rescue purposes. They were also used for Ice Patrol. The photo aircraft carried a nine-lens, $1.5 million dollar, aerial camera for mapping purposes. Interestingly, the Norden bombsight, used by the B-17s in the bombing campaign against Nazi Germany was retained and was used to pinpoint targets for the camera.

They saw lots of use on the Ice Patrol.

Coast Guard PB-1G (B17) ice patrol plane, 1958

Original caption: “Somewhere in the region of the Grand Banks of Newfoundland, taking a Loran fix in a Coast Guard PB-1G (B17) ice patrol plane, is John D. Murphy, Aviation Electronics man, 3rd class, working in close coordination with his navigator and the observer. By means of Loran, the navigator plots the plane’s position frequently over the fog-wrapped area under survey. Loran fixes enable the observer to check the exact location of icebergs along the course after they have been sighted. Working out from a Coast Guard attachment located at Argentia, Newfoundland, a four-engine PB-1G’s ordinary search flight lasts 10 or 11 hours and covers approximately 1,500 linear miles. The 1954 International Ice Patrol season began in February and extended into August.” NARA 026-g-051-005-001

Original caption: “Framed in the plexiglass nose of a Coast Guard PB-1G (B17) ice patrol plane, Ensign Theodore J. Wojner, USCG, Observer, with binoculars scans the ocean for field ice, growlers, and icebergs, in the vicinity of the Grand Banks of Newfoundland. In this position, the observer has unrestricted visibility from beam to beam. Although Radar and Loran are used on International Ice Patrol aerial surveys, the observer knows that the human eye is still the most dependable instrument for detecting icebergs. Only after he sights an iceberg does he use the radar instrument shown here at his elbow, to determine the distance of the berg, which he enters in his log with the time. After the flight, the observer’s log entries are checked against the Loran fixes obtained by the navigator along the flight track. From this data, the location of the bergs is accurately determined. Working out of the Coast Guard Air Detachment at Argentia, Newfoundland, a PB-1G’s normal flight lasts 10 or 11 hours. During that time the observer constantly watches the area under survey.” NARA 026-g-051-003-001

The Forts were replaced by C-130s in the early 1960s, and the USCG still rocks the big Hercules.

Original caption: “The SC-130B is the first turbin[e]-propelled aircraft to enter U.S. Coast Guard Aviation. Built by Lockheed, this was the second accepted early in 1960 as the first step in the Coast Guard’s program of modernizing its air fleet and is station in Honolulu. A four-engine, all-weather, high-speed, long-range land plane, its primary mission is search and rescue but can also be used for transporting personnel, emergency equipment, and cargo. The “Hercules” replaces the old PB-1G (B-17) long-ranged model planes used since World War II.” National Archives Identifier 205576270

As detailed by the USCG Historian’s Office:

The final flight of the last PB-1G in Coast Guard service ended at 1:46 p.m. on Wednesday 14 October 1959 when PB-1G 77254 landed at AIRSTA Elizabeth City. She had faithfully served the nation’s oldest continuous sea service for fourteen years.

40th Anniversary of Beirut

This week marks the sadly almost forgotten 40th anniversary of the tragic 1983 terrorist bombing of the United States Marine Corps Barracks in Beirut, Lebanon. Of note, the 241 Americans– 220 Marines, 18 Sailors, and 3 Soldiers– killed in the attack were peacekeepers in a pointless Middle Eastern conflict.

The more things change, right?

In Beirut, U.S. Ambassador Shea and French Ambassador Hervé Magro laid a wreath at the U.S. Embassy memorial adorned with the phrase, “They Came in Peace.” Members of the U.S. Embassy’s Marine Security Guard detachment read the names of each victim, remembered their service, and honored their sacrifice.   

They are remembered in The Cedar Tree Battalion, 241 cedar trees planted in the hills overlooking the city. 

Arlington also maintains a memorial, also with a cedar tree, marked “Let Peace Take Root.”

The USMC’s official commemoration video:

The battleship USS New Jersey (BB-62) was offshore of Lebanon when the attack occurred and one of her crew– ETC (SW) Michael Gorchinski– was killed ashore in the bombing. Her crew tells the story of their involvement in the conflict

Catch this!

80 years ago today: Canadian soldiers of The Carleton and York Regiment preparing to lob a Mills bomb hand grenade into a sniper’s hideout, Campochiaro, Italy, 23 October 1943.

Photo by Alexander Mackenzie Stirton, Library and Archives Canada, MIKAN 3200692 

Hailing from New Brunswick, as its name would imply, the Carleton York was created by the 1937 amalgamation of the Carleton Light Infantry and the York Regiment, units that dated to the old county militia days as far back as 1787 and went overseas to fight the Kaiser as the respective 12th and 140th and 44th and 104th battalions, Canadian Expeditionary Force, a factor that brought 18 Great War battle honors to the new regiment’s flag, along with a lineage of service in the Americas in the War of 1812 and against the Boers.

Embarking on the SS Monarch of Bermuda from Halifax on 10 December 1939 for Scotland, where they remained to protect the UK while threats of a German invasion subsided, they landed in Sicily in July 1943 and then fought their way into Europe, ending the war in May 1945 at Amersfoort, Holland.

The Carleton York suffered 348 deaths in their WWII service.

The regiment was amalgamated with The New Brunswick Scottish and The North Shore (New Brunswick) Regiment in 1954 to form the 1st New Brunswick Regiment (Carleton York). Two years later this word salad was renamed simply The Royal New Brunswick Regiment (RNBR), a Reserve unit that exists today as a one-battalion infantry unit that is part of 37 Canadian Brigade Group, 5th Canadian Division, with a combined 65 battle honors.

2nd Battalion, The Royal New Brunswick Regiment, soldiers fire a Carl Gustav 84mm during Exercise Maritime Raider 12. Photo : Cplc Gayle Wilson, Canadian Forces

Echoes from 1940

The MAREANO project, conducted by the Institute of Marine Research (IMR), the Geological Survey of Norway (NGU), and the Norwegian Mapping Authority, has been mapping the seascape of the Norwegian continental shelf since 2005.

Their most recent Spring expedition on board research vessel G.O. Sars found an aircraft engine and no less than seven wrecks. One appears to be the long-lost T-class submarine HMS Thistle (N 24), located at 160 meters depth outside Rogaland in southwestern Norway.

Built by Vickers pre-war, she was commissioned in July 1939, just less than eight weeks before Hitler sent his legions into Poland and sparked WWII. She conducted six war patrols off the German/Jutland coast and vanished during her seventh with skipper LCDR W.F. Haselfoot, RN, and all 52 hands while off the coast of Norway.

Post-war analysis shows her to be lost on 10 April 1940 during the initial phases of the German invasion of that country, sent to the bottom by two torpedos from the school boat U-4 (Oblt. Hans-Peter Hinsch).

HMS Keith

HMS Keith

In related news, the B-class destroyer flotilla leader HMS Keith (D 06), lost during the Dynamo evacuations from Dunkirk on 1 June 1940, sunk by German Stuka dive bombers in just 23 meters of water, has been located and mapped via multibeam sonar from the French DRASSM agency.

And so we remember. 
 
There are no roses on sailors’ graves,
Nor wreaths upon the storm-tossed waves,
No last post from the King’s band,
So far away from their native land,
No heartbroken words carved on stone,
Just shipmates’ bodies there alone,
The only tributes are the seagulls sweep,
And the teardrop when a loved one weeps.

Wetterstation Kurt

80 years ago today, the only (known) World War II military installation conducted by Germany in North America was erected.

On 22 October 1943, the Type IXC/40 submarine U-537 (Kptlt. Peter Schrewe) of the 10. Flottille out of Lorient in occupied France arrived at remote Martin Bay (Naukjuke Bay) at the northern tip of Labrador with a special cargo– Wetter-Funkgerät Land (Weather Radio for Land) No. 26.

Type IXC/40 submarine U-537 at anchor in Martin Bay, Labrador, Dominion of Newfoundland (now Canada) on 22 Oct 1943. Crewmen can be seen on deck offloading components of Weather Station Kurt into rubber rafts. The photo was taken ashore from the Hutton peninsula by one of U-537’s crew. (Photo Bundesarchiv via ww2dbase)

Manufactured by Siemens, WFL-26 consisted of a variety of meteorological instruments, a 150-watt Lorenz 150 FK-type transmitter with a 33-foot antenna on a tripod base, a shorter pole with instruments, and ten interconnected 220-pound canisters with nickel-cadmium and dry-cell high-voltage batteries.

Schematic of a German WFL manufactured by the Siemens-Schuckert corporation. It had been designed by Drs. Dr. Ernest Ploetze and Edwin Stoebe. The schematic was saved by Siemens employee Franz Selinger who would supply it to the Canadian government in 1980

Under the direction of embarked passenger Dr. Kurt Sommermeyer and Siemens technician Walter Hildebrant, U-537’s crew spent two windswept days in Canadian waters shuttling canisters ashore and erecting what was to be known as Wetterstation Kurt (Weather Station Kurt) on top of a small hill with a good view of the horizon some 400 yards in from the beach.

German Weather Station Kurt set up on the Hutton Peninsula, Labrador, Dominion of Newfoundland on 22 October 1943. You can make out the “Canadian Meteor Service” and WFL-26 markings (Bundesarchiv)

To camouflage the nature of the station, rather than being marked “Secret Nazzi Weather Stuff,” the canisters were carefully sanitized to only have numbers and fictional “Canadian Meteor Service” markings. At the same time, empty packs of Camel cigarettes and other North American items were salted around the site.

On the 24th U-537 continued on its way, with Sommermeyer verifying Kurt was up and running, broadcasting readings on 3940 kHz every three hours.

Civilian technician Dr. Kurt Sommermeyer aboard U-537 in the Labrador Sea listening to signals transmitted by Weather Station Kurt broadcasting from the Labrador coast, 24 Oct 1943. (Bundesarchiv)

However, for unknown reasons, Kurt, which had planned to transmit for at least six months if not a year, halted its readings after just a month and the Germans never made an effort to revisit the site to affect repairs.

The first time anyone in Canada found the site (and reported it) was when government geomorphologist Peter Johnson came across it in 1977 while researching the area as part of the two-year Torngat Archaeological Project which cataloged 450 km of coastline and just under 350 sites along the Labrador Coast, thinking it was an old Canadian Weather Service or RCN installation.

A German researcher, Franz Selinger, formerly of Siemens, seeing images of the station, alerted Ottawa as to the likelihood that the mysterious station was the lost Herr Kurt.

Still, it wasn’t until 1981 that the Canadian Coast Guard responded to it and examined the damaged and rusting site in an expedition led by Department of National Defence historian W.A.B. Douglas. Reportedly, some parts were missing, but the canisters, tripod, and mast, and some of the old dry-cell batteries were left to identify.

Canadian Coast Guard shore party made the first examination of the remnants of German Weather Station Kurt on the Hutton Peninsula, Newfoundland and Labrador, Canada on 21 Jul 1981, 38 years after it was deployed. Photo via ww2dbase

Partially recovered and restored, WFL-26 is on display at the Canadian War Museum in Ottawa.

Kurt, is still quiet but no longer beach litter.

As for U-537, she arrived back at Lorient uneventfully on 8 December 1943 and, was dispatched to the Far East to operate with 33. Flottille out of Penang. She was lost on 10 November 1944 east of Soerabaja, sunk by the Gato-class fleet boat USS Flounder (SS-251), taking all hands to the bottom of the Java Sea.

Portugal’s sub force getting it done

The modern Tridente-class submarine, a unique fuel cell AIP variant of the German Type 209PN/Type 214PN, has been in operation since 2010 with the Portuguese Navy. While three were envisioned, just two were completed– NRP Tridente (S160) and NRP Arpão (S161).

Tridente-class submarine of the Portuguese navy

The country has made good use of these in recent deployments and in bird-dogging passing Russian warships. Speaking to the former, Arpão in August wrapped up a 120-day patrol as part of the Open Sea Initiative 23.2, in the South Atlantic, which contributed to strengthening military and diplomatic relations between Portugal and each of the countries visited — Cape Verde, Brazil, South Africa, Angola, and Morocco– having traveled more than 13,000 miles and spent over 2,500 hours underway.

She reportedly covered the length of the African continent submerged in 15 days.

Arpão (FrigCapt. Taveira Pinto) arrived in Lisbon in August after her deployment which made her the first Portuguese submarine to carry out an equator-crossing mission.

Interestingly, her 35-member crew is co-ed.

You have to love Arpão’s patch. Of note, Arpão means “Harpoon”

Turning around just 60 days later, Arpão has deployed again, this time to the Med as part of NATO’s Operation Sea Guardian, on a patrol that will run into December and include taking part in Dynamic Mariner 23.

She is a good-looking boat for sure.

Portuguese Sub Heritage

As noted in this week’s Warship Wednesday, in 1914 Portugal had a single submarine to its name, a small Fiat-designed La Spezia-built boat, dubbed Espadarte (Swordfish). Ordered in 1910, this 148-foot/300-ton diesel-electric boat would remain in service until 1930.

Espadarte, seen here in Lisbon, was the first sub in the Marinha Portuguesa)

NRP Espadarte, the first Portuguese submarine delivered to the Navy, on April 15, 1913

She was very active, if nothing else providing an OPFOR for the fleet. 

ASW training between destroyer NRP Guadiana and submarine NRP Espadarte Portugal 1915

To replace their well-worn little Italian boat and expand their force, Portugal ordered a pair of modified Squalo class boats from C.R.D.A in Trieste in 1931. However, Mussolini ordered them seized on the ways in 1935 and pressed into service as the Glauco class off Spain, where the Italian “pirate submarine” fleet was very active.

To replace the undelivered Italian boats, Portugal turned to Vickers in Britain for a pair of 227-foot/1,000 ton boats that could carry a dozen torpedos and have a 5,000nm endurance while carrying a very English 4-inch gun in a streamlined semi-turret forward of the sail. All three– Delfim, Espadarte, and Golfinho were delivered in May 1934 and remained active through WWII.

The Vickers built Delfim class, as described in the 1946 ed of Jane’s

Class leader Delfim. Note the “D” on her fairwater as a designator. Logically, Golfinho carried a “G” while Espadarte had an “E”. The forward streamlined QF 4-inch (102 mm) Mk XII deck gun mount was similar to that seen on the RN’s O-class and, on a smaller scale, to the four-gunned experimental HMS X-1 cruiser submarine of the same era. 

To replace the Vickers boats, Portugal managed to pick up a trio of WWII surplus British 217-foot/990-ton S-class boats in 1948: HMS Spur/NRP Narval (S160), HMS Saga/NRP Náutilo (S161), and HMS Spearhead/NRP Neptuno (S162).

These remained in service into the late 1960s.

British RN S-class submarine HMS Spearhead, as NRP Neptuno (S162) in Portugal service 1950s

Then, in 1967, Portugal ordered a four-pack of French Daphné type SSKs that entered service as the Albacora-class by the end of the decade.

While one– NRP Cachalote (S165)— was sold to Pakistan after the Carnation Revolution and the military fell out of favor, the other three (Albacora S163, Barracuda S164, and Delfim S166) would be retained into the 2000s, replaced by the current German boats.

NRP Barracuda was NATO’s oldest active submarine when she was decommissioned in 2010. Laid down by the Dubigeon Shipyards of France in 1967, she is preserved as a museum ship in Portugal.

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.

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