Weapons on hand for the 5th Marines, 9 November 1942, at Guadalcanal, including an interesting collection of H&R Reising submachine guns, M1928 Tommy guns, M1903 Springfields, M1911s, and Mr. Browning’s assorted .30-06 machine gun designs in M1917, M1918, and M1919 variants. Also noted are 28 beefy .50 cals, eight Lewis guns, and a whopping six Garands.
Beyond the above arsenal, of course, today is the 250th anniversary of the Corps.
Birthday message, narrated by the current Punisher, follows:
Beretta has debuted a new configuration of the A300 Ultima Patrol semi-auto 12 gauge platform in two editions, just in time for the Marine Corps’ 250th Birthday.
Built to honor 250 years of the nation’s go-to amphibious corps, the Patrol Raider is clad in a nostalgic yet functional “Frogskin” camo pattern akin to that worn by Marine Raiders as they fought across the Pacific Theater in World War II.
First carried ashore by Marine Raiders on Guadalcanal, Frogskin was one of the earliest attempts at issuing individual disruptive camouflage uniforms in combat and remained in limited use as late as Vietnam. (Photos: National Archives).
The new A300 Ultima Patrol Raider includes a bayonet mount, enlarged controls, ample accessory mounts via multiple M-Lok mounting points, aggressive texturing in grip areas, and a 7+1-shot extended magazine tube. Weight is 7.9 pounds, unloaded, while the length of pull is 13 inches and includes a half-inch recoil pad. (Photos unless noted: Beretta)
It has a 19.1-inch barrel with a Mobil choke and an overall length of 38 inches.
A limited A300 Ultima Patrol Raider Commemorative Edition includes an Ontario OKC 3S bayonet, which is current-issue to the Marines, along with a custom wooden ammo crate display case.
Beretta details that the bayonet mount reflects the shotgun’s historical role in close-quarters combat, going back to Marine units in World War I, offering added authenticity and appeal for collectors and enthusiasts of military heritage.
The standard Beretta A300 Ultima Patrol Raider has an MSRP of $1,399 while the Commemorative Edition, of which just 250 will be made, runs $2,499.
“The United States Marine Corps’ 250th anniversary is a historic milestone, and we wanted to create something that truly celebrates their legacy,” said Caleb McMillen, Sr. Product Manager at Beretta USA. “The A300 Ultima Patrol Raider is more than a shotgun. It’s a tribute to 250 years of honor, courage, and commitment. By blending battlefield heritage with modern performance, we’re proud to offer both a commemorative edition and a mission-ready configuration that salute America’s Finest Fighting Force.”
USS Walke (DD-416) photographed soon after completion, circa 1940—official U.S. Navy Photograph, from the collections of the Naval History and Heritage Command. Catalog #: NH 97912
A Sims-class destroyer, DD-416, was laid down on 31 May 1938 at the Boston Navy Yard; launched on 20 October 1939; sponsored by Mrs. Clarence Dillon, grand-niece of the late RADM Henry A. Walke of Civil War fame; and was commissioned on 27 April 1940.
After tense service on the Caribbean Patrol keeping an eye on the Germans and Vichy French, followed by service in Icelandic waters in 1941, she was transferred to the Pacific post-Pearl Harbor. She was a plane guard and escort for USS Yorktown for several months before being detached with a damaged reduction gear that sent her home for repair.
USS Walke (DD-416) off the Mare Island Navy Yard, California, 24 August 1942. Note her camouflage. NH 97911
Patched up, she was off Guadalcanal during its worst early phases and was lost in the great sea clash in those waters on 14/15 November 1942. She went down with at least 82 men, including her skipper, CDR Thomas E. Fraser (USNA ’24), whose family was presented a posthumous Navy Cross. A Smith-class destroyer minelayer was later sponsored by his widow.
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Warship Wednesday (on a Thursday) Nov. 21, 2024: The Sweet Pea
Official U.S. Navy Photograph, 19-N-70346
Above we see the leader of her class of “heavy” cruisers, USS Portland (CA-33) off the Mare Island Navy Yard, on 30 July 1944, spick and span in her new Measure 32 (Design 7d) camouflage livery.
You wouldn’t know it from her rakish good looks, but “Sweet Pea” had already survived three of the four most pivotal sea battles of the Pacific War, and was on her way back to finish out her dance card.
Treaty Cruisers
Portland was the lead ship of the third class of “treaty cruisers” built following the Washington Naval Treaty of 1922. Made to be compliant with a 10,000-ton standard displacement maximum (further defined as “heavy” cruisers by the London Naval Treaty of 1931 if they carried guns larger than 6 inches but smaller than 8.1 inches in bore). This saw a whole generation of very lightly protected vessels, leaving armor behind in exchange for shaft horsepower and guns, to make weight.
The 1920s/30s thinking about how cruisers would be employed in a coming war– as commerce raiders and in stopping commerce raiders as well as fast over-the-horizon scouts for the battle line– fit this well. For instance, it would have been interesting had the Graf Spee been chased to ground by three American treaty heavies in an alternative version of the Battle of the River Plate.
The first of the U.S. treaty cruisers, USS Pensacola (CL/CA-24) and Salt Lake City (CL/CA-25), came in under the bar with a 9,096-ton standard (8,689-ton light) displacement and could make 32.5 knots on a 107,000 hp suite of 8 boilers and 4 steam turbines while carrying 10 new 8″/55 guns, only had 518 tons of armor. This was really just proof against splinters and light guns, with even the conning towers protected by just 1.25 inches of plate. By comparison, the WWII-era Atlanta class light cruisers, which were notorious for their thin skin, had more armor (585 tons).
Little wonder these cruisers were often derided as “tinclads.”
The next class, the USS Northampton (CA-26) and her five sisters– USS Chester, Louisville, Chicago, Houston, and Augusta— went slightly heavier at 9,390 tons standard and 8,693 light while having the same horsepower, one fewer 8-inch gun, and a bit more armor (686 tons). Top-heavy, they proved to be violent rollers in heavy seas, a metric that the Navy sought to correct with the next class.
Then came our Portland and her ill-fated sister USS Indianapolis, which were essentially copies of the Northamptons with alterations in weight distribution to improve stability. Some 40 tons of mattressed armor was spread over the bridge work– which was higher– while the masthead was dropped some 30 feet. Using the same 107K shp engineering suite and the same main armament (nine 8″/55 guns in three cramped triple gun houses), the total armor protection remained the same as on the Northamptons (686 tons) while the displacement increased incrementally to 9,315 light.
Treaty heavy cruisers are seen maneuvering off San Pedro, California likely around 1937. The nearest ships are USS Northampton, sisters USS Indianapolis, and USS Portland, along with USS Chester, showing good profiles for these closely related vessels. 80-G-1009038
For what it is worth, the fourth and final class of American treaty cruisers, the Astoria class (with six sisters USS New Orleans, Minneapolis, Tuscaloosa, San Francisco, Quincy, and Vincennes), went just slightly over the “10,000-ton” line at 10,050 standard and more than doubled the amount of armor, bringing 1,507 tons of protection to the game while keeping the same armament and engineering. This was only possible by dropping fuel capacity by a third (from the 847,787 gallons enjoyed by the Portlands to a more meager 614,626 gallons in Astoria). Tellingly, the first U.S. Navy heavy cruisers designed post-treaty, the Baltimore class, shipped with 1,790 tons of armor plate while the follow-on Des Moines class carried a whopping 2,189 tons.
Nonetheless, these extensively compartmented ships, enjoying the benefit of hardy damage control teams– a skill very much learned on the job– would often keep even these “tinclads” afloat after extreme punishment. Those lost during the war only succumbed due to torrents of shells and torpedoes, often hand-in-hand.
The most surprising quality in this ill-armored lineage was its ruggedness even with regard to torpedo damage. American cruisers suffered torpedo hits on 31 occasions, but only seven of the ships sank, and none sank from a single hit. By comparison, of the 24 torpedoed Japanese cruisers, 20 sank, three of them after single hits, The Americans had the advantage of their expert damage control, especially after the merciless lessons of Savo Island.
Still, these 17 thin-skinned treaty cruisers, forced to do the work of absent battleships in 1942-43, then used as AAA escorts for the precious carriers and in delivering shore bombardment in 1944-45— none of which were their primary design concept– got the job done, although seven would be left at the bottom of the Pacific along the way.
Our subject was the first American warship named for the city in Maine. Ordered to be built at commercial yards, Portland (CA-33) was laid down at Quincy, Massachusetts by Bethlehem Steel Corporation’s Shipbuilding Div., on 17 February 1930 while her sister, Indianapolis, was laid down at the nearby New York Shipbuilding Co just six weeks later.
As Prohibition was still a thing, when Portland was launched on 21 May 1932, 12-year-old Ms. Ralph D. Brooks of Portland, Maine smashed on bottle of sparkling water across her bow.
USS Portland fitting out at Boston (Charleston) Navy Yard, December 1932, BPL Leslie Jones collection
USS Portland fitting out at Boston (Charleston) Navy Yard, December 1932, BPL Leslie Jones collection
A good shot of her secondary battery of 5″/25 dual-purpose guns. She had eight of these unprotected mounts, four on each side. At the time, the only other guns she had were her small arms locker, eight water-cooled.50 caliber mounts, and a field gun for her landing company. BPL Leslie Jones collection
Commissioned on 23 February 1933, Captain (later VADM) Herbert Fairfax Leary (USNA ’05), a Great War Grand Fleet veteran who earned a Navy Cross in 1918 and was fresh off a stint as the Naval Inspector in Charge of Ordnance at Dahlgren Naval Base, assumed command. All her skippers would be WWI-era Annapolis alumni.
While still on her shakedown period, Portland was the first naval vessel at the scene of the lost airship USS Akron (ZRS-4) which had been destroyed in a thunderstorm off the coast of New Jersey on the morning of 4 April 1933, killing 73 of the 76 aboard. She would spend the next 21 days directing the search of a 400 sq. mile area for wreckage and survivors, only coming across the former.
1933- Cruiser USS Portland (CA-33) looking for survivors after the crash of the airship USS Akron.
It was her first brush with Naval Aviation tragedy, this one the greatest loss of life in any airship crash (the “Oh, the humanity” moment on Hindenburg had cost 36).
Once in the fleet, Portland had a very comfortable peacetime career for the next six years. Her class had space and accommodations for a cruiser squadron commodore and his staff and notably was used to escort FDR’s three-week Pacific trip aboard USS Houston in October 1935.
USS Portland (CA 33) at Naval Station, Hampton Roads, Virginia, with the formation of four of her Vought O2U planes overhead, April 24, 1933. 80-CF-392-16
Same as above with a great view of her stern bombardment clock on her aft mast and her secondary 5-inch battery. Note she has a fifth O2U on her catapult. 80-CF-392-15
USS Portland (CA-33) during the fleet review at New York, 31 May 1934 NARA 520826
USS Portland (CA-33) during the fleet review in New York, 31 May 1934. Note four floatplanes on her cats. NH 716
When she called at Portland, Maine for a two-week port call in August 1934, she was mobbed with 25,000 visitors and a delegation of city leaders who presented the skipper a silver service, purchased by the town’s residents via subscription.
USS Portland (CA-33) underway at sea, 23 August 1935. NH 97832
USS Portland during training maneuvers close to shore, 1930s. Southern California UCLA collection 1429_4040
USS Portland, 1930s. Univ of Oregon Collection Z1157
USS Portland, 1930s.Univ of Oregon Collection Z1155
USS Portland, 1930s. Univ of Oregon Collection 67971.0
A great interbellum shot of Portland passing close to Alcatraz Island in San Francisco Bay. Courtesy of Mr. Donald M. McPherson, 169 Birch Avenue, Corte Madera, California, 1969. NH 68314
USS Portland passing under St. Johns Bridge, in Portland Oregon, 1937. Angelus Studio card 74843.0. University of Oregon. Libraries. Special Collections & University Archives
While operating out of Bremerton bound for Dutch Harbor, Alaska in October 1937, Portland, who was nicknamed for a time “The Rolling P” suffered a heavy storm and high seas while hitting 42 degrees on her inclinometer, leaving her with six-foot cracks near midship on each side of her hull that warranted shipyard repair.
This led Robert Ripley, in his “Believe It or Not” series, to claim at that time that no other ship had ever rolled over as far as she had without completely capsizing.
Portland At anchor off Gonaives, Haiti, on 28 January 1939. 80-CF-2134-2
With tensions high between the U.S. and Japan, Portland spent most of 1941 on a series of West Pacific cruises, escorting Army cargo to Manila with stops in New Guinea, Borneo, and Australia.
Gun turret and bridge of USS Portland (CA-33) at Brisbane, 25 March 1941 (StateLibQld 1 100920)
Portland in Sydney Harbor, Australia, March 1941. Note she has on her haze gray but has not been fitted with a radar set at this time. NH 66290
When she arrived at Pearl Harbor on 1 December 1941, her crew was expecting some much-needed downtime.
War!
At 0627 on the early morning of Friday, 5 December, Portland’s crew no doubt grumbled that their 10-day libo– and upcoming weekend– was to be ruined as they weighed anchor and steamed out of Pearl Harbor en route to Midway with the fellow treaty cruisers USS Astoria, Chicago, and Minneapolis and five destroyers.
They were soon joined by the grand old fleet carrier USS Lexington— carrying 18 Marine SB2U Vindicator dive bombers of VMSB-231 to the remote base in addition to the 65 aircraft of her air group, and the oiler Neosho.
Expecting to get some gunnery practice in during the cruise and not wanting to risk the caulking of small boats stored near the guns, Portland’s skipper ordered left behind the ship’s gig, a motor whaleboat, and one of her motor launches at the Pearl Harbor Coal Docks with a 10 man detachment under the command of BMl/c CJ Brame, detached on temporary duty with:
Booth, E.K., 375-81-81,MMl/c
McKirahan, S. A., 316-68-98, Fl/c
Kemph, A. M., 376-13-20, GM3/C
Robinson, P. S, 337-37-19 Sealc
DeYong, L. R., 356-49-95, Sealc
Koine, W. M. ,321-48-33, Seal/c,
Reimer, J. R, 337-39-70, Seal/c
Sullivan, G. A.,Seal/c
Mc Lain, T. E., 321-48-39, Seal/c
McKellip, G.,368-48-47, Seal/c
Although the U.S. was still a mighty neutral in World War II, the task force zig-zagged on its way out, steaming at an easy 16 knots, and darkened ships at night.
Still 500 nm southeast of Midway, at 0832 on 7 December, Portland found herself in the war.
Portland’s crew spent the rest of the day at hard work, stripping ship. They took down the mess deck’s light globes and unnecessary flammable items, like the wooden paneling in the wardroom. They painted over the topside wooden decks, heretofore beautifully white from so much holystoning, but now made a darker color so the ship would be harder to see from the air. They rigged false radar antennas and made other topside alterations to change the appearance of the ship. One of the things they dumped over the side was the beautiful mahogany brow, the gangway used by the men to pass from the ship to the pier and back when Portland was tied up. By the time Sweet Pea went to general quarters in the evening of December 7, no one in the crew thought it a drill.
LIFE photographer Bob Landry was onboard the cruiser at the tense moment and caught several now-iconic images of her crew getting ready for a real-life shooting war– with echoes of Pearl Harbor in their ears and the knowledge that a giant Japanese striking force could be just over the horizon. Talk about the pucker factor.
USS Portland’s crew painting the ship’s hangar doors darker after Pearl Harbor. LIFE Bob Landry. Note the Sea Gull has its depth charge censored out.
More of the above
Crewmen on USS Portland CA-33 unpack .50 cal ammunition after news is received of the Japanese Attack on Pearl Harbor. Bob Landry, LIFE.
Portland and the rest of the Lexington carrier group spent the next week searching frantically for the Japanese strike force to the south of Hawaii, combing as far down as Johnson Island– with a continuous airborne combat air patrol overhead. Luckily for them, all they found was an empty ocean as the Japanese Kido Butai had retired to the north.
Meanwhile, BMl/c Brame and his 10-man, 3-boat, 1 rifle (with 10 bullets) detachment, left behind at Pearl Harbor, had spent the “Day Which Will Live in Infamy” very much hard at work in the harbor, rescuing sailors from the flaming waters, carrying returning sailors from the Liberty Landing to their ships, firing their paltry few rounds of ball ammo at low-flying meatballs, and basically just trying not to be killed– by both sides.
Koine had the rifle loaded in short order and was firing at the planes that came over our area. There was nothing we could do but take cover, standing in knee-deep water under the dock. At that time I lost track of time by the clock. After some time there was a definite lull in the action over the harbor. One of the enemy planes had crashed into some hospital barracks about a hundred yards from our location. Having no idea what to do, we went to the area and helped firemen tend hoses to put out the fire. It was an unoccupied wooden building and not much damage was done. When the fire was out we looked through the wreckage of the plane. At that time I chose to eat the second of my breakfast sandwiches. When I saw part of the torso of one of the occupants of the plane I did not finish my sandwich.
Reimer, Koine, and the gang reunited with Portland when she returned to Pearl Harbor along with the Lexington group on 13 December, mooring at berth C-5 at 1803. Her crew was fleshed out for war service from the Emergency Fleet Pool, augmented with several men late of the sunken battleship USS California.
It was noted in her log that “No records or accounts for the above men were received,” for obvious reasons.
Portland left again at 1141 on 14 December for war service– having spent just over 17 hours at berth.
She would spend the next five months in a series of fruitless patrols between the West Coast, Hawaii, and Fiji. It would be her only quiet service during the conflict.
At least she picked up radar in February 1942 at Mare Island– SC search along with Mk 3 and Mk 4 fire control. She also got a better AAA suite, landing her next to worthless .50 cals, then picking up four quad 1.1-inch Chicago Pianos and 12 Orelikons.
She would soon need them.
Coral Sea
In the first large sea battle of the Pacific War, Portland served in RADM Thomas Kinkaid’s Attack Group TG 17.2 during the four-day Battle of the Coral Sea on 4-8 May, which intercepted a Japanese invasion force bound for Port Moresby, New Guinea and sank the small Japanese carrier Shoho, damaged the large carrier Shokaku, and gutted the aircrew from the carrier Zuikaku— which effectively zeroed out these three from being part of Nagumo’s First Striking Force at Midway a month later.
Portland provided close AAA support to the carriers USS Yorktown and USS Lexington during the battle and, on the morning of the 8t,h fired 185 rounds of 5-inch, 1,400 rounds of 1.1-inch (bursting a barrel on one of these guns), and 2,400 rounds of 20mm at eight incoming Japanese planes, with her crews claiming at least one splashed.
In all, Portland’s gunners would claim 22 aircraft splashed during the war, and at least another 11 downed with “assists.”
Sadly, the big Lex was in trouble and, ablaze and smoking, began to list.
Battle of the Coral Sea, May 1942. Smoke rises soon after an explosion amidships on USS Lexington (CV-2), 8 May 1942. This is probably the explosion at 1727 hrs. that took place as the carrier’s abandonment was nearing its end. Ships standing by include the cruiser Minneapolis (CA-36) and Sims-class destroyers Morris (DD-417), Anderson (DD-411), and Hammann (DD-412). 80-G-16669.
From Portland’s log:
Portland would take aboard 22 officers, 317 enlisted, and 6 Marines from Lexington’s crew, delivered via breeches buoy and motor launch from the Sims-class destroyer USS Morris (DD-417).
On the evening of the 10th, another Sims, USS Anderson (DD-411), would come alongside and transfer a further 17 officers and 360 men, formerly of Lexington, in the dark. This brought the number of guests at Hotel Portland to 722.
Arriving in Pearl Harbor on 27 May via Tonga, Portland would welcome Capt. Laurance Toombs “Dubie” DuBose (USNA ’13) aboard as her skipper, her third since the war started.
Midway
During the Midway campaign, as part of Task Group 17.2 (Cruiser Group) under RADM WW Smith, along with the cruiser Astoria, Portland was assigned to stick to the carrier Yorktown, one of three American carriers left in the Pacific, and screen the vital flattop from Japanese aircraft.
She did a good job, too.
When Yorktown was attacked by a swarm of homeless Japanese aircraft from the carrier Hiryū on 4 June, Portlandfilled the sky with 235 5-inch shells, 1,440 1.1-inch shells– rupturing the barrels of two of these guns– and 3,200 rounds of 20mm. She even fired five rounds from her big 8-inchers into the sea to wash the low-flying planes out of the sky. Her gunners claimed at least seven kills.
Her diagram from the action:
Sadly, Yorktown was damaged by at least three bombs dropped by Vals and two Type 91 aerial torpedoes delivered by Kates. Dead in the water but still afloat, once again, Portland began taking on crews from a sinking American carrier– one that was given a coup de grace by a Japanese submarine the next day.
Battle of Midway, June 1942. Two Type 97 shipboard attack aircraft from the Japanese carrier Hiryu fly past USS Yorktown (CV-5), amid heavy anti-aircraft fire, after dropping their torpedoes during the mid-afternoon attack, 4 June 1942. Yorktown appears to be heeling slightly to port and may have already been hit by one torpedo. Photographed from USS Pensacola (CA-24). The destroyer at left, just beyond Yorktown’s bow, is probably USS Morris (DD-417). Official U.S. Navy Photograph, now in the collections of the U.S. National Archives. 80-G-32242
The cruiser would triple the number of men taken aboard from Lady Lex at Coral Sea, hosting an amazing 2,046 survivors from Yorktown for a few days.
From Generous:
In not quite a full day, Sweet Pea took what might have been the biggest at-sea transfer of men between ships in the history of the U.S. Navy. Destroyers Russell, Balch, Benham, Anderson, and Hamman came alongside Sweet Pea between 1835 on June 4, and 1430 on June 5. They delivered, respectively. 492, 545, 721, 203, and finally 85 survivors of the stricken Yorktown The total 2,046 refugees from the carrier almost tripled the number that had come from Lexington after the Coral Sea, itself a figure that had stretched the cruiser’s resources.
Destroyer USS Benham (DD-397), with 722 survivors of USS Yorktown on board, closes USS Portland (CA-33) at about 1900 hrs, 4 June 1942. A report of unidentified aircraft caused Benham to break away before transferring any of the survivors to the cruiser, and they remained on board her until the following morning. Note Benham’s oil-stained sides. The abandoned Yorktown is in the right distance. NH 95574
Battle of Midway, June 1942. USS Portland (CA-33), at right, transfers USS Yorktown survivors to USS Fulton (AS-11) on 7 June 1942. Fulton transported the men to Pearl Harbor. 80-G-312028
USS Portland (CA-33) at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, 14 June 1942 just after Midway, with her crew paraded on deck in Whites. Note the external degaussing cable fitted to the hull side of this ship. NH 97833
USS Portland (CA-33), left, and USS San Francisco (CA-38) (R), as part of Task Force 16, turning to starboard after firing several broadsides during exercises off Hawaii, 10 July 1942. 80-G-7861
Guadalcanal
Sailing forth once again from Pearl Harbor on 15 July 1942 as part of TF 16, she was soon attached to screen the carrier USS Enterprise for the landings at Tulagi and Guadalcanal in early August before splashing three aircraft attempting to sink Enterprise, which is now known as the Battle of the Eastern Solomons on the 24th of August.
The Tarawa Raid
After escorting Enterprise back to Pearl Harbor for repairs– where she would be for six weeks– Portland was cut loose to conduct a single ship raid against Japanese-held Tarawa, Maina, and Apemama in the Gilbert Islands. Acting as TU 16.9.1, she blasted the enemy base with 245 8-inch shells on 15 October while two of her scout planes dropped bombs on a freighter.
Directed to Espiritu Santo, she rejoined the Enterprise Group on 23 October just in time for the Battle of the Santa Cruz Islands three days later. In this, her fourth carrier-on-carrier fight in six months, Portland zapped another three planes and reportedly was hit by three Japanese torpedoes that were launched too close to arm!
In all, her crew would have close calls with at least eight torps during the war.
Battle of Santa Cruz Islands, October 26, 1942. Japanese dive bombing and torpedo plane attack on USS Enterprise (CV-6). Photographed by a sailor on USS Portland. 80-G-30202
Third Savo
Needed to help stop the nightly Japanese run down the “Slot” in Ironbottom Sound off Guadalcanal, Portland sailed from Noumea on 7 November and joined a surface action group in the Solomons by the 11th, splashing two Japanese land-based bombers the next day.
By the night of the 12th/13 (as in Friday the 13th), 13 ships under RADM Daniel Callaghan in the cruiser USS San Francisco, with Portland being the only other heavy cruiser, sailed out to meet the Japanese in the Sound. With Callaghan’s force balanced by the light cruisers Helena, Atlanta, and Juneau, along with eight destroyers, they ran right into RADM Hiroaki Abe’s battleships Hiei and Kirishima, the cruiser Nagara, and 11 destroyers.
In the confusing, swirling action, Portland helped pummel the destroyer Akatsuki out of existence, hit the destroyer Ikazuchi with two 8-inch shells to the bow, and delivered several salvos to the battlewagon Hiei.
In exchange, Portland suffered her first enemy hits of the war, with two of Hiei’s 14-inch shells– gratefully HE rounds as the battleship was headed to bombard the Marines at Henderson Field– that exploded when they hit the cruiser’s svelte 4-inch belt.
She also took a dud 5-inch shell through her hangar.
What did far more damage was a hit at Frame 134 from a Long Lance torpedo fired either from the Japanese destroyer Inazuma or Ikazuchi, which blew a 60-foot hole in the stern, jamming her rudder in a 5-degree turn to port, blew off her inboard props, and disabled the cruiser’s aft turret. This left Portland performing a series of slow circles– her forward guns still firing four six-gun salvos whenever the burning and nearly stationary Hiei came into view– for the rest of the battle.
It is amazing that Portland only had 17 members of her crew lost in the fight.
Still circling slowly at dawn- picking up American survivors from other ships in the process– Portland spotted the abandoned destroyer Yudachi at 12,500 yards and, with DuBose directing, “sink the S.O.B.” put the tin can below the waves with six 6-gun salvos.
Halsey appreciated the touch, later noting “The sinking of an enemy destroyer by Portland 3 hours and 45 minutes after the night action, while still out of control, was one of the highlights of this action.”
Shortly afterward, with the help of the old minesweeper USS Bobolink (AM-20) and a Yippie (YP-239) who steadied the cruiser’s bow as she steamed slowly, her rudder still locked to the right, Portland made Tulagi just after midnight on 14 November and only narrowly avoided an attack from two PT boats standing guard.
Spending a week camouflaged and hidden from enemy air while repairs were made and her rudders locked in the middle position, Portland was pulled from her hide at Tulagi on 22 November by the tug USS Navajo, which rode shotgun with her to Sydney, where the cruiser arrived on the 30th under her own power
USS Portland (CA-33) in the Cockatoo Drydock, Sydney, New South Wales, Australia, circa late 1942, while under repair for torpedo damage received in the Naval Battle of Guadalcanal on 13 November 1942. Note the arrangement of gun directors on her forward superstructure: main battery director atop the foremast, with FC fire control radar; and a secondary battery director, with FD fire control radar, on each bridge wing. Also note this ship’s external degaussing cables, mounted on her hull sides. Courtesy of Vice Admiral T.G.W. Settle, USN (Retired), 1975. NH 81992
After two months in Sydney, she made for Mare Island with stops at Samoa and Pearl Harbor, arriving on the West Coast on 3 March.
In this refit, she upgraded radars to SG and SK sets and beached all her worthless 1.1-inch quads to make room for four quad Bofors.
By late May, she was ready to get back to work.
USS Portland (CA-33) off the Mare Island Navy Yard, California 16 May 1943. 19-N-47582
Alaska
After a training cruise in California waters, Portland arrived in the Aleutians on 11 June 1943 where, as part of TG 16.7, she first blockaded and then bombarded Kiska on 22 July (when the Japanese were still there), fought off a swarm of mysterious unidentified pips on 25/26 July (the “Battle of Sitkin Pip”), covered the fog-shrouded landings on since evacuated Kiska once more on 15/16 August, and covered the close reconnaissance of nearby Little Kiska on the 17th that confirmed it was also abandoned.
Portland left Alaskan waters on 23 September, bound for Pearl Harbor.
Island Hopping
From November 1943 through February 1944, Portland participated in the Gilbert and Marshall Islands campaigns, then screened carriers during air strikes against Palau, Yap, Ulithi, and Woleai in March.
She bombarded Darrit Island in the Marshalls at the end of January, firing 149 8-inch shells and a dozen of 5-inch AA common.
Eniwetok and Parry Island got a very serious shellacking by 776 8-inch HC, 35 8-inch AP (used against bunkers as an experiment), 980 rounds of 5-inch, 4,716 40mm, and 1,286 20mm over the course of four days in February. The Bofors were reportedly very good at “hedge trimming” coconut groves to remove cover for enemy positions.
In early March, Portland picked up a new skipper, Capt. Thomas G. W. “Tex” Settle (USNA ’18). A destroyerman during the Great War, he spent most of the 20s and 30s in a series of aviation posts as a test pilot and lighter-than-air (blimp) expert. Having been in charge of Airship Wing Three just before catching a PBY to Eniwetok and never commanded a warship larger than a 165-foot river gunboat, he nonetheless proved ready to take our cruiser into harm’s way.
Portland continued her work.
She screened carriers as they conducted air strikes on New Guinea– where she had four men wounded by splinters from an enemy aircraft attack on 29 March– and the Japanese stronghold of Truk in late April.
Detached with five other cruisers as a surface action group, Portland then conducted a bombardment of Satawan (Satowan) Island in the Caroline’s Mortlock chain, on 30 April 1944, plastering the thin atoll with 89 8-inch shells and coming away with her spotter planes reporting the airstrip there “unusable.” The battalion-sized Japanese force there was left to wither on the vine and only surrendered post-VJ Day.
On 14 May, having been hard at work from Kiska to the Kokoda Trail for a solid year, she was given orders to head to Mare Island for refit and upgrades.
Her fire control radars were upgraded to Mk 8 and Mk 28 sets and she picked up eight more Bofors (four twins) and five more Oerlikons (singles). This gave her a combined armament of 9 8″/55s, 8 5″/25s, 24 40mm Bofors, 17 20mm Oerlikons, and one catapult with provision for two seaplanes in her hangar.
Portland, 1946 Janes.
She emerged at the end of July in her final form, including a new camo scheme.
Camouflage Measure 32, Design 7D drawing prepared by the Bureau of Ships for a camouflage scheme intended for heavy cruisers of the CA-33 (Portland) class. USS Portland (CA-33) and USS Indianapolis (CA-35) both wore this pattern. This plan, showing the ship’s starboard side, superstructure ends, and exposed decks, is dated 21 March 1944 and was approved by Captain Torvald A. Solberg, USN. 80-G-109726
USS Portland (CA-33), off the Mare Island Navy Yard, 30 July 1944. Her camouflage is Measure 32, Design 7d. 19-N-70344
Same as above. 19-N-70345
USS Portland (CA-33), view looking aft from the foredeck while at sea in 1944. Note the ship’s two forward 8/55 gun turrets and the arrangement of her forward superstructure. A Mk 33 gun director with Mk 28 fire control radar is atop the pilothouse. The director atop the tripod foremast is an Mk. 34, with Mk 8 fire control radar. The large radar antenna at the foremast peak is an SK. Courtesy of Vice Admiral T.G.W. Settle, USN (Retired), 1975. NH 82031
On 7 August, she left California bound for points West.
Peleliu
Arriving off Peleliu in the Palau Group just before dawn on 12 September, some 4,000 miles west of Pearl Harbor but only 500 miles east of the Philippines, Portlandlent her guns to the massive softening-up process covering the Operation Stalemate II landings there that began three days later, a role she would continue for the rest of the month, often working alongside her sister, Indianapolis.
In all, Portland fired 1,169 8-inch HC, another 77 of 8-inch AP in counter-bunker work, 1,945 5-inch, and 10,156 40mm hedge trimmers in support of the 1st MARDIV. Her nights were also busy, popping off 5-inch illumination rounds, as many as 129 a night.
Portland was also the subject of an air attack around 2030 on the night of 19 September when a single-engine plane, believed to be a Japanese Aichi E13A (Jake) floatplane, approached in the dark, dropped two small bombs that landed 200 yards off her port quarter, and caused no damage or casualties.
The P.I.
Given two weeks of forward-deployed downtime at Seeadler Harbor, Manus, Portland sailed with Cruiser Division 4 as part of TG 77.2 for the Leyte Gulf to support the landings there, which began the liberation of the Philippines. Entering the Gulf on the 18th, by 0618 on the 19th, she began delivering naval gunfire support ashore. Over the next five days, she sent 797 rounds of 8-inch and 373 5-inch shells over the beach, plus another 163 5-inch shells to defend against air attacks.
Then came a call on the afternoon of the 24th that Japanese capital ships were sailing up the Surigao Strait, sparking one of the four sprawling engagements that made up the larger Battle of Leyte Gulf.
The last battleship-to-battleship action in history saw VADM Shoji Nishimura’s “Southern Force,” including the old battleships Yamashiro and Fuso, the heavy cruiser Mogami, and four destroyer,s stumble into Oldendorf’s waiting six battleships, four heavy cruisers (including Portland), and four light cruisers, after fighting through a mass of destroyers and PT boats.
Portland sailing into the battle on the evening of 24 October as part of Oldendorf’s left-flank column behind USS Louisville. Minneapolis, Denver, and Columba were following.
Given lots of forewarning due to their PT boat and triple destroyer pickets, as well as superior surface search radar, Portlandopened fire at 0352 with her main battery to starboard on enemy ships bearing 186 True, 15,500 yards. The target ended up being Yamashiro, at least the second battleship that Portland would land hits on during the war.
U.S. cruisers firing on Japanese ships during the Battle of Surigao Strait, 25 October 1944: USS Louisville (CA-28), USS Portland (CA-33), USS Minneapolis (CA-36), USS Denver (CL-58), and USS Columbia (CL-56), October 24, 1944. 80-G-288493
In the swirling night action, with Portland running seventh in the column, she got her licks in. She would fire 233 rounds of 8-inch by the time her guns went quiet at 0539, engaging four different targets between 13,700 and 23,000 yards, with her plot radar tracking contacts out to 40,000.
Chief of these targets was believed to be the 13,000-ton heavy cruiser Mogami, with Portland wrecking the bigger ship’s compass bridge and the air defense center while killing her skipper, Capt. Ryo Toma and his XO, Capt. Hashimoto Uroku, along with several junior officers.
Tex Settle, the destroyerman-turned-balloonist, who had left Mare Island just two months prior with a crew filled with hundreds of newly minted sailors and then been thrown into the gunline at Peleliu to get some on-the-job training, delivered a sobering assessment in his action report.
In his own report to Nimitz, Oldendorf noted, “The USS Portland was well handled during this action and her high volume of accurate fire was a material contribution to the complete defeat of the Japanese force.”
Still very much needed, Portland took a brief break at Ulithi to refill her magazines and then, by 5 November, was screening carriers striking Japanese airfields around Luzon. She then spent most of December in a series of AAA engagements against kamikaze strikes while supporting the Mindoro landings.
USS Portland (CA-33) moves into position off Mindoro, just before the opening of the D-Day barrage, on 15 December 1944. Note her camouflage scheme: Measure 32, Design 7d. NH 97834
From 3 January through 1 March 1945, Portland participated in the operations at Lingayen Gulf and Corregidor, including bombarding the vicinity of Cape Bolinao and the Eastern shore of the Gulf while swatting swarms of suicide aircraft.
Off Rosario for almost two weeks, she extensively supported the 43rd “Winged Victory” Infantry Division, dropping photos and sketches of Japanese lines for the unit’s staff via her floatplanes while delivering 485 rounds of 8-inch on-target. In this, U.S. Sixth Army commander, Gen. Walter Kruger, commended the photo recon work of Portland’s pilots.
On 1 March, she retired to San Pedro Bay in the Leyte Gulf for some downtime, maintenance, and provisioning, capping 140 days operational.
She would need it for the next op.
Okinawa
Arriving off Okinawa via Ulithi on 26 March 1945, Portland would become a fixture, conducting operations for almost three months straight. In her first month alone, she survived 24 air raids, shot down at least a quartet of enemy aircraft, assisted with downing another eight planes, and delivered several tons of ordnance.
Portland also scrapped with a Japanese sub.
Between August 1944 and early March 1945, the Japanese Navy sent at least 12 new 86-foot Type D-TEI (Koryu) and 11 80-foot Type C (Hei Gata) midget submarines to hardened pens built for them along Okinawa’s Unten Bay on the island’s northern coast.
Japanese Ko-hyoteki Hei Gata Type C midget submarine Guam 1944. The description from Portland’s action report matches this type to a tee.
However, through a mixture of pre-invasion Army bomber strikes and Hellcats from USS Bunker Hill and Essex, most were out of action by the time of the landings.
On the nights of the 26th and 27th, the final six operational Japanese midget subs, each carrying a pair of torpedoes forward, crept out to attack the American fleet, sinking the destroyer USS Halligan (DD-584) in the process.
On the morning of 27 March, Portland squared off with HA-60, a Type C, and, while the Japanese boat fired both its torpedoes at the cruiser Pensacola without success, the Portland’s gunners managed to soak the little sub’s periscope and tower with several hundred rounds of 40mm and 20mm while the ship attempting to ram, her stem missing the boat by just 20 feet.
While HA-60 managed to get away, she had a damaged scope which hampered her further attacks. The last Japanese midget sub on Okinawa, HA-60 was abandoned on 31 March.
Sent to Ulithi on 20 April for replenishment and repairs, Portland was back on the gunline with CTG 54.2 off Hagushi Beach on Southwestern Okinawa by 8 May, continuing this vital mission through 17 June.
One of her typical days:
Her ordnance expended in this second Okinawa cruise:
Besides providing aerial spotting and recon for NGFS and nightly illumination, Portland also stood ready to clock in as a floating triage station, reliving the immense pressure on the dedicated hospital ships. On one occasion, no less than 26 wounded Soldiers and Marines were brought out via landing craft.
Anchored at Buckner Bay when the news of the Japanese capitulation came, the celebrations had to be placed on hold as the Navy had one more mission for the old Sweet Pea.
Endgame
Embarking VADM George D. Murray, Commander Marianas, and his staff on 31 August, Portland was given the task of accepting the surrender of the Japanese Navy’s 4th Fleet, under VADM Chuichi Hara, and the Japanese 31st Army, under Lt. Gen. Shunzaburo Mugikura, who were still holding out at the bypassed fortress of Truk.
Other than the Dutch East Indies, Indochina, Singapore, and Hong Kong, where British and their Commonwealth forces were addressing, Truk was the last large Japanese stronghold in the Pacific. Although its lagoons were filled with 44 wrecks and nearly 300 burnt-out aircraft were hulked on its airstrips, some 40,000 men remained under arms on the outpost.
Arriving at Truk on 2 September, the event was quick. The Japanese signatories boarded Portland from motor launches at 0920, had a short briefing in the cruiser’s spartan wardroom, then proceeded to the deck where the ceremony took place before the assembled crew at 1015. The delegation left with their copies of the document and Portland raised anchor for Guam directly.
A very happy Japanese Lieutenant General Shunzaburo Mugikura, Commanding General, 31st Army, comes on board USS Portland (CA-33) to attend ceremonies surrendering the Japanese base at Truk, Caroline Islands, 2 September 1945. Truk is visible in the background. Note the wooden grating at the top of the embarkation ladder. Collection of Fleet Admiral Chester W. Nimitz. NH 62796
Japanese delegation comes on board USS Portland (CA-33), on 2 September 1945, to surrender the base at Truk, Caroline Islands. Those in the front row are (left to right): Lieutenant A.M. Soden, USNR, interpreter; Lieutenant F. Tofalo, USN, Officer of the Deck; Lieutenant General Shunzaburo Mugikura, Commanding General, 31st Army; Vice Admiral Chuichi Hara, Commander, 4th Fleet; Rear Admiral Aritaka Aihara, head of the Eastern Branch of the South Seas Government, and Lieutenant Kenzo Yoshida, Aide to LtG. Mugikura, (carrying bundle). Standing behind them, partially visible, are (left to right): Rear Admiral Michio Sumikawa, Chief of Staff, 4th Fleet; Colonel Waichi Tajima, Chief of Staff, 31st Army, and Lieutenant Ryokichi Morioka, Aide to VAdm. Hara, (carrying briefcase). Note the whaleboat rudder in the left background, and Truk islands in the distance. Collection of Fleet Admiral Chester W. Nimitz. NH 62798
Japanese delegation’s senior members in the wardroom of USS Portland (CA-33), 2 September 1945. They were on board to surrender the base at Truk, Caroline Islands. Those in the front row are (left to right): Vice Admiral Chuichi Hara, Commander, 4th Fleet; Lieutenant General Shunzaburo Mugikura, Commanding General, 31st Army, and Rear Admiral Aritaka Aihara, head of the Eastern Branch of the South Seas Government. Standing behind them are (left to right): Rear Admiral Michio Sumikawa, Chief of Staff, 4th Fleet, and Colonel Waichi Tajima, Chief of Staff, 31st Army. Collection of Fleet Admiral Chester W. Nimitz. NH 62799
Japanese delegation in formation on the well deck of USS Portland (CA-33), 2 September 1945. They were on board to surrender the Japanese base at Truk, Caroline Islands. Those in the front row are (left to right): Vice Admiral Chuichi Hara, Commander, 4th Fleet; Lieutenant General Shunzaburo Mugikura, Commanding General, 31st Army, and Rear Admiral Aritaka Aihara, head of the Eastern Branch of the South Seas Government. In the next row are (left to right): Rear Admiral Michio Sumikawa, Chief of Staff, 4th Fleet, and Colonel Waichi Tajima, Chief of Staff, 31st Army. In the rear row are (left to right): Lieutenant Ryokichi Morioka, Aide to VAdm. Hara, and Lieutenant Kenzo Yoshida, Aide to LtG. Mugikura. Collection of Fleet Admiral Chester W. Nimitz. NH 62801
Japanese Navy Vice Admiral Chuichi Hara, Commander, 4th Fleet, signs the document, at ceremonies on board USS Portland (CA-33) surrendering the base at Truk, Caroline Islands, 2 September 1945. U.S. Navy officers present around the table are (left to right): Lieutenant S.E. Thompson, USNR, Flag Lieutenant; Captain O.F. Naquin, USN, Acting Chief of Staff; Vice Admiral George D. Murray, USN, Commander, Marianas, (seated), who accepted the surrender on behalf of the Commander in Chief, Pacific Fleet and Pacific Ocean Areas; Captain D.N. Cone, USN, representing Commander, Marshalls and Gilberts; Captain L.A. Thackrey, USN, Commanding Officer, USS Portland; Lieutenant L.L. Thompson, USN, Flag Secretary, and Lieutenant A.M. Soden, USNR, interpreter. Note the Marine Corps photographer in right-center background, and the U.S. flag used as a backdrop. Collection of Fleet Admiral Chester W. Nimitz. NH 62802
Ironically, on 16 September 1945 in the port of Tsingtao, China, which the Japanese had possessed since taking it away from the Germans in 1914, Sweet Pea’s Surigao Straits skipper, Tex Settle, now a rear admiral, accepted the surrender of six of the Emperor’s remaining destroyers and seven merchantmen along with VADM Shigeharu Kaneko’s Qingdao Area Special Base Force command.
Portland then carried 500 men from Guam to Pearl Harbor, and from there some 600 troops for transportation back to the States.
USS Portland (CA 33) nearing Pearl Harbor, Territory of Hawaii, with 500 Naval personnel, 20 September 1945, two weeks after the surrender at Truk. Note men crowded on her decks, and the long homeward bound pennant flying from her mainmast peak. 80-G-495651
Transiting the Panama Canal on 8 October, she was the feature of Navy Day at Portland, Maine on 27 October.
Our well-traveled cruiser consigned to mothballs at Philadelphia Naval Shipyard, was decommissioned there on 12 July 1946.
Struck from the Navy List on 1 March 1959, she was sold for scrap to the Union Mineral and Alloys Corporation of NYC five months later and scrapped.
6 Sep 44 – 14 Oct 44 Capture and occupation of southern Palau Islands
9 Sep 44 – 24 Sept 44 Assaults on the Philippine Islands
10 Oct 44 – 29 Nov 44 Leyte landings
24 Oct 44 – 26 Oct 44 Battle of Surigao Strait
5 Nov 44 – 6 Nov 44, 13 Nov 44 – 14 Nov 44, 19 Nov 44 – 20 Nov 44: Luzon attacks
12 Dec 44 – 18 Dec 44, 4 Jan 45 – 18 Jan 45: Mindoro landings
15 Feb 45 – 16 Feb 45 Mariveles-Corregidor
25 Mar 45 – 17 Jun 45 Assault and occupation of Okinawa Gunto
These resulted in a Navy Unit Commendation (for Surigao Strait) and in 16 battle stars for World War II service although her crew, in post-war reunions, argue she probably should have gotten more like 18 stars when the Tarawa raid and Aleutians service are included, plus she had a detachment just off Battleship Row during the attack on Pearl Harbor.
Still, no matter if it was 16 or 18, that’s a lot of campaign service.
As detailed by Generous:
Sweet Pea was the only ship at all three of the great battles in the early days of the war when Japan might have won. She was the only heavy cruiser in history that twice faced enemy battleships in nighttime engagements, not only surviving to tell the tale but winning both battles. She rescued thousands of men from sunken ships.
If USS Portland (CA-33) was not the greatest heavy cruiser of them all, let someone else try to make the case.
Epilogue
Sweet Pea had 14 skippers across her 13-year career between 1933 and 1946, one of which, DuBose, served twice. Of these men, fully half rose to the rank of admiral, one of them, DuBose, to a full four-star. What do you expect from someone who earned three Navy Crosses and a matching trio of Legions of Merit?
Tex Settle twice received the Harmon Trophy for Aeronautics and, for his service in WWII, was awarded the Navy Cross, Legion of Merit, and Bronze Star. He retired from the Navy as a Vice Admiral in 1957 after 29 years of service and passed at age 84 in 1980. Buried at Arlington, in 1998 was inducted to the Naval Aviation Hall of Honor. His papers, appropriately are in the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum’s collections.
A veterans association, once very vibrant, went offline in 2023. According to the VA, as of 2024, there are just approximately 66,000 living World War II veterans in the United States, which is less than 1 percent of the 16.4 million Americans who served in the conflict.
Her mast and bell have been preserved at Fort Allen Park in Portland, Maine.
The Navy has gone on to recycle the name “Portland” twice, first for an Anchorage-class gator (LSD-37) commissioned in 1970 and struck in 2004, and then for a San Antonio-class amphibious transport dock (LPD-27) that joined the fleet in 2017.
An elevated starboard bow view of the dock landing ship USS Portland (LSD-37) is underway during Exercise Ocean Venture ’84. DN-ST-86-02284
Gulf of Aqaba (Nov. 15, 2021) The amphibious transport dock USS Portland (LPD 27), right, and the Israeli navy corvette INS Hanit, conduct a passing exercise in the Gulf of Aqaba. 211115-M-LE234-1400. (U.S. Marine Corps photo by Sgt. Alexis Flores)
Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive
Ships are more than steel and wood And heart of burning coal, For those who sail upon them know That some ships have a soul.
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Warship Wednesday, June 14, 2023: Shoestring Tin Dragon
U.S. Naval History and Heritage Command Photograph. NH 60479
Above we see the Wickes (Little)-class four-piper USS Colhoun (Destroyer No. 85) seen wearing her fresh Great War-era Type N-12, Design K, dazzle camouflage, likely in mid-1918. Our tough flush deck would see rough, albeit short, duty in both world wars.
The Wickes
Colhoun was one of the iconic first flights of “Four Piper” destroyers that were designed in 1915-16 with input from no less an authority as Captain (later Admiral) W.S. Sims. Beamy ships with a flush deck and a quartet of boilers (with a smokestack for each) were coupled to a pair of Parsons geared turbines to provide 35.3 knots designed speed– which is still considered fast today, more than a century later.
The teeth of these 314-foot, 1,250-ton greyhounds were four 4-inch/50 cal MK 9 guns and a full dozen 21-inch torpedo tubes.
They reportedly had short legs and were very wet, which made long-range operations a problem, but they gave a good account of themselves. Originally a class of 50 was authorized in 1916, but once the U.S. entered WWI in April 1917, this was soon increased and increased again to some 111 ships built by 1920.
Wickes class USS Yarnall (DD-143): Booklet of General Plans – Inboard Profile / Outboard Profile, June 10, 1918, NARA NAID: 158704871
Wickes class USS Yarnall (DD-143): Booklet of General Plans – Main Deck / 1st Platform Deck / S’ch L’t P’f’m, S’ch L’t Control P’f’m, Fire Control P’f’m Bridge, Galley Top, After Dk. House and 2nd Platform Deck. / June 10, 1918, Hold NARA NAID: 158704873
Wickes class. A close-up of her stern top-down view of plans shows the Wickes class’s primary armament– a dozen torpedo tubes in four turnstiles and stern depth charges.
Of the 111 Wickes completed, there were three subclasses besides the 38 standard-design vessels built at Bath Iron Works, Cramp, Mare Island, and Charleston. Then came the 52 Bethlehem-designed ships built at the company’s Fore River (26 ships) and Union Iron Works (26 ships) led by USS Little, the Newport News-built variants (11 ships) starting with USS Lamberton, and New York Shipbuilding-built variants (10 ships) led by USS Tattnall.
The subclasses were constructed to a slightly different set of plans modified by their respective builders, which made for some downright confusing modifications later. In addition, the Bethlehem-designed Little variants tended to have shorter legs and proved unable to cross the Atlantic in a single hop without stopping in the Azores for refueling or completing an underway replenishment.
Anyway…
Meet Colhoun
Our subject, USS Colhoun, was the first U.S. Navy ship to carry the name of RADM Edmund Ross Colhoun.
Born in 1821 in Chambersburg, Pennsylvania, Colhoun was appointed a midshipman in 1839 and served with Commodores Conner and Perry, at Alvarado and Tabasco, respectively, during the war with Mexico. Master Colhoun resigned from the Navy in 1853 then returned to service as a Commander in the War Between the States with service in both the North and South Atlantic Blockading Squadrons including as skipper of the gunboats USS Hunchback and USS Ladona, and monitors USS Saugus and USS Weehawken.
He wasn’t a bad sketch artist, either:
Gunboat USS Lodona, sketch by Commander Edmund R. Colhoun, from his letter book of 1865-1885 in the Naval Historical Foundation’s Colhoun Collection. He was Lodona’s Commanding Officer during the Civil War. Courtesy of the Naval Historical Foundation, Washington, D.C. NH 51415
Post-war, Colhoun went on to command the South Pacific Station and Mare Island Navy Yard then was promoted to an admiral on the Retired List in 1883. He passed in 1897, aged 75, and is buried at Arlington, Section 1, Grave 617.
Laid down by Fore River at Quincy, Massachusetts, on 19 September 1917, USS Colhoun was launched by RADM Colhoun’s granddaughter on 21 February 1918 and commissioned on 13 June 1918– some 105 years ago this week.
In all, her construction only lasted just 268 days, a wonder of wartime shipbuilding.
Destroyer hulls on the building ways at Fore River, 1 October 1917. Those closest to the camera are the future USS Colhoun (DD-85) and Stevens (DD-86), which had builder’s numbers 280 and 281. The ships on the left are probably the future USS Sigourney (DD-81) and Gregory (DD-82). NH 43019
Ships fitting out at the Fore River shipyard, 19 March 1918. The six “Little” Wickes class destroyers are Little (DD-79), Kimberly (DD-80), Sigourney (DD-81), Gregory (DD-82), Colhoun (DD-8,5) and Stevens (DD-86), which had builder’s hull numbers 274-277 and 280-281 respectively. The freighter at right is Katrina Luckenbach, yard hull # 267, which served as USS Katrina Luckenbach in 1918-19. Most of the equipment on the pier is for her. Note the large submarine being built in the background, under the revolving crane. NH 43022
USS Colhoun (Destroyer # 85) in port, circa late 1918 or early 1919. Note her pattern camouflage and the splinter protection mats hung over the face of her bridge. The ship that is partially visible alongside Colhoun’s starboard side appears to be USS Alert (1875-1922). Donation of Dr. Mark Kulikowski, 2006. NH 104157
Here’s some better details on her camo pattern.
Camouflage Type N-12, Design K plan prepared by the Bureau of Construction and Repair in 1918, for a camouflage scheme for U.S. Navy Flush Deck type destroyers. It shows the ship’s starboard side, bow, set,rn and superstructure ends, and was approved by Naval Constructor John D. Beuret, USN. USS Robinson (Destroyer # 88) is known to have worn this camouflage pattern. USS Colhoun (Destroyer # 85) also appears to have received it. NH 103218
Rushed through construction and further rushed into service, Colhoun was on North Atlantic escort duty just three weeks after she was brought to life, shuttling between New York and European ports, shepherding troopships taking the AEF “Over There” to lick the Kaiser.
USS Colhoun (DD-85) escorting a convoy of troopships, in mid-1918. The two-stack transport beyond her bow is USS Siboney (ID # 2999). Photographed by R. Bowman. Courtesy of Jack L. Howland, 1983. NH 95200
She spent the tail end of 1918 at New London as part of experiments with sound equipment then under development, a job that was interrupted to rush to the rescue of the transport Northern Pacificon New Year’s Day 1919 as she had run aground at Fire Island with a load of Doughboys coming back home. Colhoun embarked 194 of her returning troops and landed them at Hoboken, which was surely a mixed blessing if you have ever been to Hoboken.
USS Colhoun (DD-85) close-up view of the ship’s port side midships area, with her small wartime hull number, probably taken in the Azores circa early 1919. The ship is still painted in World War I dazzle camouflage. Courtesy of the U.S. Naval Library, Treasure Island, California, 1969. NH 67715
Colhoun spent the remainder of 1919 in a series of operations in the Caribbean and off the east coast.
USS Colhoun (DD-85), sans camouflage. Photographed on 15 November 1919. NH 55255
Placed in reduced commission status at Philadelphia Navy Yard on 1 December 1919, Colhoun was given an overhaul and decommissioned there on 28 June 1922, joining almost 100 other tin cans on the yard’s “Red Lead Row” for the next 18 years.
View of part of about 100 U.S. Navy destroyers that saw action in the First World War in storage at the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard in April 1923. Note that the guns and other vital parts that are exposed to the weather are covered with grease so that the ships could be ready for service at a moment’s notice. When in commission each carried 115 enlisted men and 7 officers. One of the ships identified is USS Ellis (DD-154). NH 69126
Dragon days
While no Wickes were lost to the Germans in 1918, two of the class– USS DeLong and USS Woolsey— were lost while on interbellum service.
Then, with the U.S. Navy having dozens of spare destroyers, especially sticky while trying to lobby Congress for modern new ones (derisively termed “Gold-platers” by salty old destroyerman), no less than 29 often low mileage Wickes tin cans were scrapped or sunk as targets in the 1930s, a few as close to WWII as April 1939. Others were converted just prior to and just after the beginning of the war to fast minelayers (DM) and fast minesweepers (DMS).
Another 27 Wickes class destroyers were transferred to the Royal Navy and Royal Canadian Navy in 1940 as part of the Destroyers-for-bases deal– and seven of these well-used ships later passed on to the Soviets in 1944.
Many of the remaining Wickes in U.S. inventory were soon converted to high-speed amphibious transport (APD).
Such conversions meant landing their 4-inch guns, which went on to equip armed merchant ships, as well as their torpedo tubes. Also leaving were half of their boilers, which dropped their speed down to 25 knots. APDs were given a trio of newer high-angle 3-inch/50 guns, one 40 mm AA gun, and five 20 mm AA guns, and the capability to carry up to 300 Marines or soldiers for a brief period. Where torpedo tubes once were, they now carried four 36-foot LCP landing craft on davits– manned by Coast Guard coxswains.
Once converted, these ships, usually painted in an all-over alligator green scheme, became known as “Green Dragons.”
Colhoun was only the second dragon, picking up the hull number APD-2 on 2 August 1940, while mid-conversion at Norfolk where she had been towed in June. She would be recommissioned on 11 December 1940 and would soon embark on a series of training exercises between Norfolk and the Caribbean.
USS Colhoun (APD-2) February 1942. 80-G-464374
USS Colhoun (APD-2) photographed while tied up to a mooring buoy, circa early 1942. NH 97775
From the same set. Note her pattern camouflage. NH 97776
USS Colhoun (APD-2) photographed in port, circa early 1942. NH 97777
Ringbolt-Shoestring
Within weeks of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor and the subsequent push into the Solomons that followed the Battle of Midway, Colhoun, under the command of T/LCDR George Bernard Madden (USNA 1931) was ordered to sail for the forward Allied staging area in Noumea, French New Caledonia, where she arrived 21 July 1942.
She had been detailed to Operation Ringbolt, the seizure of Tulagi, Gavutu, and Tanambogo islands off the larger Florida island in the Solomon Islands group in parallel to the more complex Watchtower landings across the Sealark Channel to Guadalcanal.
Colhoun, joined by her converted green dragon sisters Gregory (APD-3), Little (APD-4), and McKean (APD-5), would carry Lt. Col. Merritt Edson’s 1st Marine Raider Battalion to Blue Beach as part of Transport Group Yoke on the morning of 7 August.
Port bow view of the high-speed transport USS Colhoun (APD-2) coming alongside the destroyer USS Mugford (DD-389) off Guadalcanal in early August 1942. The Australian War Memorial (P01233.004) contends that this was takeon n 7 August 1942 off Tulagi as she transports elements of the 1st Marine Raider Battalion. This is possibly the last photo taken of the ship. The University of Utah – J. Willard Marriott Library #941326
Then came what has been termed Operation Shoestring, the thin supply line that kept the Marines on Guadalcanal in the fight for the rest of the month.
Just as the Marines’ supply situation became critical, the four fast transports of Transport Division 12 arrived on 15 August, under orders from Vice Admiral Robert Ghormley, the Commander of the South Pacific Area, to make all efforts to keep the Marines supplied. The fast transports (converted World War I destroyers) Colhoun (APD-2), Gregory (APD-3), Little (APD-4), and McKean (APD-5), under the command of Commander Hugh W. Hadley, USN, mostly delivered supplies and gear intended to make Henderson Field operational. The Marines had the benefit of captured Japanese rations, so food was not a critical issue at that point (the four APDs returned on 20 August with rations for the Marines). Another U.S. ship attempting to supply the Marines, the overloaded converted China riverboat Lakotai, capsized and sank all by herself before reaching Guadalcanal.
It was while on Shoestring that Calhoun suffered what Cox described as what “may be the most accurate bombing of a ship by high-altitude horizontal bombing during the war,” when she was hit by at least four bombs dropped by a flight of Japanese twin-engine bombers on 30 August.
Colhoun sank in under two minutes with the loss of over 50 of her crew. Many of her survivors had to swim to shore and for weeks were counted by the Navy as missing in action, although they were among the Marines.
The report of her loss, filed by her skipper, LCDR Madden, while he was recovering on the cargo ship USS Betelgeuse (AKA-11) along with several other wounded members of his crew:
TransDiv12’s days were numbered.
Just five days later, her sisters USS Gregory (DD-82/APD-3) and USS Little (DD-79/APD-4)— luckily just after transferring a Marine Raider Battalion to Savo Island– would be sunk in a one-sided night action with three much stronger Japanese destroyers. Nimitz observed, “Both of these small vessels fought as well as possible against the overwhelming odds … With little means, they performed duties vital to the success of the campaign.”
Meanwhile, the last of the original four green dragons of TransDiv12, USS McKean (DD-90/APD-5), was sunk in November 1943 by a torpedo from a Japanese G4M Betty bomber off Empress Augusta Bay.
Colhoun earned one battle star for her World War II service.
Thomas Crane Public Library. Fore River Shipyard Postcard Collection
As for her Guadalcanal skipper, LCDR Madden earned a Silver Star for his actions on Calhoun. He would go on to command the destroyers USS Williamson (AVD 2), USS Young (DD 580), and USS Shields (DD 596). He retired postwar as a rear admiral.
Besides the ill-fated four DD/APDs of TransDiv12, at least nine other Wickes class destroyers were lost during World War II in U.S. service. The remainder were scrapped between 1945 and 1947.
Today no Wickes-class tin cans survive. The last one afloat, USS Maddox (DD–168), was scrapped in late 1952 after serving in the US, then RN, then Canadian, then Soviet navies.
However, one of the class, USS Walker (DD-163), has been given new life in the excellent alternate history series Destroyermen written by Taylor Anderson.
Meanwhile, the Colhoun name was recycled for a new Fletcher-class destroyer (DD-801) laid down on 3 August 1943 at Seattle, by the Todd Pacific Shipyards. Sponsored by Capt. Kathryn Kurtz Johnson, WAC, a great-grandniece of the ship’s namesake, she commissioned on 8 July 1944.
USS Colhoun (DD-801) lies to in Puget Sound, 21 July 1944, painted in a disruptive three-color camouflage. Official U.S. Navy Bureau of Ships photo 19-N-7125
DD-801’s career would be much shorter than her predecessor, and she was awarded one battle star for her World War II service at Okinawa, where she was sunk as a result of the first heavy kamikaze raid on 6 April 1945. Some 35 members of Colhoun’s crew died and 21 were injured.
USS Colhoun (DD-801) hit by a suicide bomber off Okinawa, Ryukyu Islands. The destroyer is zigzagging at high speed during the attack. Note the oil slick to the left from a bomber shot down by fire from ship and fighter planes. Photographed by USS Anzio (CVE 57) pilot Lieutenant Junior Grade T. N. Banks, April 6, 1945. U.S. Navy photograph, now in the collections of the National Archives. 80-G-317257
The Navy has not used the name of RADM Edmund Colhoun since then.
Ships are more than steel and wood And heart of burning coal, For those who sail upon them know That some ships have a soul.
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Warship Wednesday, Feb. 1, 2023: A Hectic 133 Days
The photo was taken from USS Fletcher (DD-445). National Archives 80-G-284577
Above we see a rare photograph of the new Fletcher-class destroyer USS DeHaven (DD-469) passing North of Savo Island, which can be seen on the horizon, on 30 January 1943, immediately after the Battle of Rennell Island— the last major naval engagement of the Guadalcanal Campaign. Commissioned just the previous September in Maine, DeHaven would be sunk two days after this image was captured, on 1 February 1943 (80 years ago today) in these same waters by a Japanese air attack, sort of a parting shot to the Empire’s withdrawal from the embattled island.
Fletcher class background
The Fletchers were the WWII equivalent of the Burke class, constructed in a massive 175-strong class from 11 builders that proved the backbone of the fleet for generations. Coming after the interwar “treaty” destroyers such as the Benson- and Gleaves classes, they were good-sized (376 feet oal, 2,500 tons full load, 5×5″ guns, 10 torpedo tubes) and could have passed as unprotected cruisers in 1914. Powered by a quartet of oil-fired Babcock & Wilcox boilers and two Westinghouse or GE steam turbines, they had 60,000 shp on tap– half of what today’s Burkes have on a hull 25 percent as heavy– enabling them to reach 38 knots, a speed that is still fast for destroyers today.
USS John Rodgers (DD 574) at Charleston, 28 April 1943. A great example of the Fletcher class in their wartime configuration. Note the five 5″/38 mounts and twin sets of 5-pack torpedo tubes.
LCDR Fred Edwards, Destroyer Type Desk, Bureau of Ships, famously said of the class, “I always felt it was the Fletcher class that won the war . . .they were the heart and soul of the small-ship Navy.”
Our DeHaven
DD-469 was the first Navy ship named in honor of LT Edwin Jess De Haven. Born in Philadelphia in 1816, he shipped out with the fleet age the ripe old age of 10 as a midshipman and made his name as an early polar explorer, shipping out with the Wilkes Expedition (1839-42), and looking for Sir John Franklin’s lost polar expedition as skipper of the humble 81-foot brigantine USS Advance in 1850 as part of the Grinnell expedition. Placed on the retired list in 1862 due to failing eyesight, he passed in 1865.
His aging granddaughter, Mrs. Helen N. De Haven, made the trip to Bath Iron Works in 1942 to participate in the destroyer’s launching ceremony.
De Haven (DD-469) was launched on 28 June 1942 by Bath Iron Works Corp., Bath, Maine; sponsored by Miss H. N. De Haven, granddaughter of Lieutenant De Haven; and commissioned on 21 September 1942, T/CDR Charles Edward Tolman, USN, in command.
Launch of USS De Haven (DD-469) at Bath Iron Works, Maine (USA), on 28 June 1942 (80-G-40563
De Haven spent four weeks on shakedown cruises and post-delivery yard periods then sailed from Norfolk, reaching the Tonga Islands, on 28 November 1942. There, she attached to escort a convoy of troopships filled with soldiers of the Army’s 25th Infantry (Tropic Lightning) Division headed to Guadalcanal to relieve the “Old Breed” of the 1st MarDiv who had been there since the invasion landings in August.
De Haven screened the transports off Guadalcanal from 7 to 14 December, then sailed out of Espiritu Santo and Noumea in the continuing Solomon Islands operations.
Then, attached to Capt. Robert Pearce Briscoe’s Tulagi-based Task Group 67.5 (known as the “Cactus Striking Force”) along with the destroyers USS Nicholas, Radford, and O’Bannon, she patrolled the waters of the Southern Solomons to stop the “Tokyo Express,” the nightly effort to supply the beleaguered Japanese troops still fighting on the invaded islands.
Cactus Force took part in two bombardments of Kolombangara Island in late January 1943. During the latter, DeHaven fired 612 5-inch shells, which is some decent NGFS.
The U.S. Navy destroyer USS De Haven (DD-469) off Savo Island, viewed from USS Fletcher, 30 January 1943, two days before she was lost. NARA image 80-G-284578
Cactus Force was then sent on the night of 31 January/1 February to escort a scratch landing team of six small LCTs and the old converted “green dragon” fast transport (formerly a Wickes-class destroyer) USS Stringham (APD-6) to land the 2nd Battalion, 132nd Infantry Regiment and a battery of four 75mm pack howitzers near Kukum via Verahue Beach the other side of Guadalcanal, with the intention to outflank the Japanese who were rapidly evacuating the area.
However, they had the misfortune of being caught –in– Operation Ke-gō Sakusen, the Japanese withdrawal near Cape Esperance, and DeHaven became a victim to incoming waves of enemy aircraft screening that effort.
It was over in minutes. Four bombs– including one that hit the superstructure squarely, killing the commanding officer at once– sent the destroyer directly to the bottom as if on an elevator, taking 167 of her crew with her in the process.
She was the 15th American destroyer lost in the Guadalcanal campaign and had been in commission just four months and 11 days. The post-war analysis determined she was lost due to extreme and rapid flooding, specifically a “loss of buoyancy on relatively even keel” a fate only suffered by one other tin can in the war, sistership USS Aaron Ward (DD 483), also lost at a heavy air attack off Guadalcanal.
DeHaven’ssix-page loss report is in the National Archives, submitted just four days after the ship took up her place on Iron Bottom Sound. As 10 of her officers were missing in action and three others seriously wounded on Navy hospital ships headed East, it was penned by her only unwounded officer, Ensign Clem C. Williams, Jr. Heady stuff for a 21-year-old O-1 to have to write.
Epilogue
As with the above-mentioned reports, DeHaven’sengineering drawings are in the National Archives.
She has a memorial at the National Museum of the Pacific War, located in Fredericksburg, Texas.
The man who wrote her loss report and compiled the names of her missing and dead, Ensign Williams, who was the son of a Washington dentist that had served in the Navy in the Great War, would survive his own war, become a physician in Indiana, and pass in 1992, aged 71.
Capt. Briscoe, leader of the Cactus Striking Force, would go on to command the fighting cruiser USS Denver (CL-58), earning a Navy Cross during the Northern Solomon Islands campaign from her bridge, then go on to lead the 7th Fleet during Korea. The Mississippian would conclude 41 years of service and retire in 1959 as a full admiral. He is buried at Arlington and a Spruance class destroyer, USS Briscoe (DD-977)— appropriately built in Pascagoula– was named in his honor.
When it comes to DeHaven’s fellow Fletcher-class destroyers, five of her sisterships– USS Pringle (DD-477), USS Bush (DD-529), USS Luce (DD-522),USS Little (DD-803), and USS Morrison (DD-560)— would go on to be sunk by kamikaze aircraft off Okinawa in a three week period. Life was not easy for Fletchers working the picket line in the Spring of 1945.
The rest of her surviving sisters were widely discarded in the Cold War era by the Navy, who had long prior replaced them with more modern destroyers and Knox-class escorts. Those that had not been sent overseas as military aid were promptly sent to the breakers or disposed of in weapon tests. The class that had faced off with the last blossom of Japan’s wartime aviators helped prove the use of just about every anti-ship/tactical strike weapon used by NATO in the Cold War including Harpoon, Exocet, Sea Skua, Bullpup, Walleye, submarine-launched Tomahawk, and even at least one Sidewinder used in surface attack mode. In 1997, SEALS sank the ex-USS Stoddard (DD-566) via assorted combat-diver delivered ordnance. The final Fletcher in use around the globe, Mexico’s Cuitlahuac, ex-USS John Rodgers (DD 574), was laid up in 2001 and dismantled in 2011.
Today, four Fletchers are on public display, three of which in the U.S– USS The Sullivans (DD-537) at Buffalo, USS Kidd (DD-661) at Baton Rouge, and USS Cassin Young (DD-793) at the Boston Navy Yard. Please try to visit them if possible. Kidd, the best preserved of the trio, was used extensively for the filming of the Tom Hanks film, Greyhound.
DeHaven’s name was quickly recycled for a new Allen M. Sumner-class destroyer (DD-727) that was building at Bath Iron Works in Maine– the birthplace of “our” destroyer. Sponsored by Mrs. H. N. De Haven– who also cracked the bottle on the bow of the first De Haven— she commissioned 31 March 1944 and was screening the fast carriers of TF38 striking Luzon in support of the invasion of Leyte by that November. In a much longer 49-year career, this second DeHaven received five battle stars for World War II service and in addition to her Navy Unit Commendation picked up a further six for Korean War service and decorations for 10 tours in off Vietnam between 1962 and 1971.
Transferred to the South Korean Navy in 1973, she was renamed ROKS Incheon (DD-98/918) (she was present at the landings there in 1950) and served under the flag of that country until 1993.
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.
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The 18th Tactical Fighter Wing at Kadena Air Base, Japan, received its first F-15C Eagle on 29 September 1979 with “The Fighting Cocks” of its 67th Tactical Fighter Squadron becoming the first squadron to become fully operational with the big air superiority fighter within the Pacific Air Forces. Now, with the mighty F-15C on its way out of front-line service, the unit is saying goodbye to the big Eagles after an unprecedented 43-year run.
U.S. Air Force F-15C Eagles assigned to the 44th and 67th Fighter Squadrons await clearance for their last take-off from Kadena Air Base, Japan, on Dec. 1, 2022. As a part of its modernization plan, the 18th Wing is retiring its aging fleet of F-15C/D Eagles that have been in service for more than four decades. (U.S. Air Force photo 221201-F-PW483-0008 by Senior Airman Jessi Roth)
A 67th Fighter Squadron P-400 at Henderson Field in 1942, likely in The Cow Field of Fighter One. Note the same “ZZ” tail flash as they wear today.
To keep it in perspective, the 67th flew no less than 12 different types in the 44 years between the Seversky P–35s at its establishment in 1935 and hanging up its F-4E Phantoms in 1979, giving you a good perspective of just how long the F-15C has been a relevant fourth-generation fighter.
The roughly 48 retrograded F-15C/Ds– all of which have at least 30 years on their frames– will travel to Kingsley Field ANGB in Oregon and some will go on to continue service at various Air Guard ADF units across the U.S. while the rest will head to the boneyard.
To backfill the loss of the old birds, the 3rd Wing at Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson, Alaska, sent about a dozen F-22A Raptors to Okinawa on 4 November to begin the first of several six-months rotations while the 18th Wing (likely) transitions to new F-15EX models sometime in 2023-24.
Now I don’t know about you, but swapping 48 forward deployed F-15Cs on the PLAAF/NorkAF doorstep for 12 (ish) rotating F-22s doesn’t sound like a great idea, even if it will just be for a couple of years, but hey…
“While I’m sad to see the F-15 go, it’s important to maintain an advanced fighter presence here in Okinawa,” said Brig. Gen. David S. Eaglin, 18th Wing commander. “Our adversaries have advanced and progressed since 1979 and we must do the same. I look forward to the future as we work through the challenges of divesting an airframe that served admirably as we modernize our defenses and evolve to the threats we face today.”
Meanwhile, the choice to keep an advanced F-15 series platform like the E/F or EX in the islands after 2023 is important for joint interoperability, as the Japan Air Self-Defense Force bought 213 Mitsubishi-built F-15J/DJ Eagles in the 1980s and still flies 150 updated Kai models, making the type their most numerous combat aircraft. Tokyo has committed to a $5 billion program to upgrade 68 of those under the Japan Super Interceptor (JSI) program and keep flying them alongside new (albeit short-ranged) F-35s in an air defense role.
The U.S. Navy’s darkest nightmare, even worse than Pearl Harbor, was the sea campaign in and around Guadalcanal.
“Fantasma de Guerra,” Battle of Santa Cruz, Pacific, 26 October 1942. Artwork by Tom Lea. Courtesy of the Navy Art Collection. NHHC Photograph Collection, NH 89605-KN (Color)
Exceedingly well-told by the late (great) James D. Hornfischer in Neptune’s Inferno, while the land campaign, spearheaded by the “Old Breed” of the 1st Marines then closed out by the follow-on 2nd Marines and the Army/s 23rd and 25th Infantry divisions lasted six months and two days (from the first landings on 7 August 1942 to U.S. Army Major General Alexander Patch realizing on 9 February 1943 that the last intact Japanese force of Gen. Harukichi Hyakutake’s 17th Army withdrew two days prior), the Naval conflict was more compressed. It is generally bookended by seven deepwater sea battles conducted between the nights of 9 August to 30 November 1942– a span of just 113 days.
Seven tragic clashes in just 16 weeks:
Savo Island (9 August).
Eastern Solomons (24 August).
Cape Esperance (11 October).
Santa Cruz Islands (25/26 October).
1st Guadalcanal/”Cruiser Night Action.”
2nd Guadalcanal/Battle of Friday the 13th/Battleship Night Action (13 November).
Tassafaronga (30 November).
While three– Cape Esperance and 1st/2nd Guadalcanal– are narrow Allied victories, the other four went to the Japanese, often lopsidedly so.
Battle of Tassafaronga in Guadalcanal painting by Yoshio Shimizu, 1943, possibly showing the lost Japanese destroyer Takanami getting plastered by the American cruisers USS Minneapolis and New Orleans
As chronicled by Hornfischer, the balance sheet ended up almost balancing in terms of tonnage and warships with the U.S. and Japan each losing 24 ships apiece with a combined tonnage of 160,815 vs 155,330, respectively.
While the Americans/Australians lost six heavy (including HMAS Canberra) and two light cruisers, this compares to the Japanese leaving two battleships along with three heavy and one light cruiser behind. The U.S. lost 14 destroyers against 11 Japanese. When it comes to submarines, the Japanese lost six while American diesel boats suffered no losses in the campaign. Two American flattops (USS Hornet and Wasp) were sunk while the Japanese lost the smaller Ryujo.
Via Hornfischer. Not in Hornfischer’s calculations were 14 Japanese and 5 American auxiliaries nor three U.S. destroyers lost in the periphery nor at least six PT boats lost.
Of note, the last American warship lost during the campaign was MTBRon 3’s PT-37, destroyed by the Japanese destroyer Kawakaze, off Guadalcanal, Solomons, on 1 Feb. 1943, still fighting the Tokyo Express in the last week of the land battle.
Map of the location of World War II shipwrecks in Ironbottom Sound in the Solomon Islands. Some wreck positions are not exactly known. (Photo by Wikipedia user Vvulto)
In terms of aircraft, each side again was balanced, with both leaving over 600 airframes apiece on the bottom of the South Pacific or strewn across jungle impact sites.
The butcher’s bill amounted to over 31,000 Japanese and 7,100 Americans perished. To express how much the conflict was a Japanese land battle lost and a bloody U.S. Naval victory eventually won, of the American losses no less than 5,041 were U.S. Navy personnel KIA while the Empire suffered over 23,800 lost in ground combat or died of disease ashore.
This battle was a decisive American victory by any standard. It was also the third great turning point of the war in the Pacific. Midway stopped the Japanese advance in the Central Pacific; Coral Sea stopped it in the Southwest Pacific; Guadalcanal stopped it in the South Pacific. Now, nearly five years later, I can face the alternative frankly. If our ships and planes had been routed in this battle, if we had lost it, our troops on Guadalcanal would have been trapped as were our troops on Bataan. We could not have reinforced them or relieved them. Archie Vandergrift would have been our “Skinny” Wainwright, and the infamous Death March would have been repeated. (We later captured a document which designated the spot where the Japanese commander had planned to accept Archie’s surrender.) Unobstructed, the enemy would have driven south, cut our supply lines to New Zealand and Australia, and enveloped them.
But we didn’t lose the battle. We won it. Moreover, we seized the offensive from they. Until then he had been advancing at his will. From then on he retreated at ours.
Warship Wednesday, Nov. 30, 2022: Crescent City Blues
Official U.S. Navy Photograph, now in the collections of the U.S. National Archives, 80-G-216014.
Above we see the lead ship of her class, the heavy cruiser USS New Orleans (CA-32) camouflaged at Tulagi in the then hotly contested Solomon Islands, shortly after she was torpedoed during the Battle of Tassafaronga on 30 November 1942– some 80 years ago today. Note that her stern is riding high and that her forward end is low in the water as the Japanese Type 93 Long Lance she caught had severed her bow between # 1 and # 2 eight-inch gun turrets, killing 182 men and lopping off almost a fifth of her length.
About the class
Classified as the “Second Generation of Treaty Cruisers” by Friedman who has an entire chapter on the subject in his USNI Press U.S. Cruisers book– a bible on the subject– the seven New Orleans class vessels came after America flirted with the more cramped and often extremely lightly armored Pensacola class (Pensacola and Salt Lake City) Portland class (Portland and Indianapolis), and Northampton-class (Northampton, Chester, Louisville, Chicago, Augusta, and Houston) cruisers. For reference, the P-colas, which carried 518 tons of armor, had just 4-inches of armor at their thickest, with just a maximum of 2.5 inches on their turret face and 1.25 inches on the conning tower, making them vulnerable to 5-inch shells and derided as being “tin clads” or “eggshell” cruisers.
Some 588 feet overall with a 61-foot beam, the New Orleans class carried 1,507 tons of protection (three times as much as Pensacola) and ran a belt and central conning tower that carried up to five inches of plate while the thickest parts of the turret faces went eight, making them capable of withstanding hits from the 8-inch shells of the day– if they were fired from far enough away.
In a further improvement, while carrying nine 8″/55 Mark 9 main guns of the same type as the previous U.S. Treaty heavy cruisers, the New Orleanses carried them in better-designed turrets with more room and would be upgraded during the war to Mark 12, 14, or 15 guns.
8-inch guns of the New Orleans-class cruiser USS Tuscaloosa (CA-37), Norfolk, VA. December 1940
As noted by Friedman concisely, “The New Orleans class represented a shift in U.S. cruiser priorities toward protection, gained in part because of a determined use of the entire available treaty tonnage.”
Speaking to which, while rated as 10,000 tons on paper– in line with the Washington Naval treaty limits– during WWII they pushed almost 13,000 when fully loaded and carrying scores of AAA guns for which they weren’t designed. By comparison, the standard weight of the 585-foot P-Colas and 600-foot Northamptons were just 9,138 and 8,997 tons, respectively, leaving a lot of treaty weight on the table.
USS New Orleans artist impression by I.R. Lloyd, circa early 1930s NH 664
USS New Orleans (CA-32) builder’s model, photographed circa 1936. NH 45123 and NH 45122.
Earlier heavy cruisers USS Salt Lake City (CA-25) and USS Pensacola (CA-24), left, alongside USS New Orleans (CA-32) to the right, seen nested together at Pearl Harbor, 31 October 1943. Ford Island is at the left, with USS Oklahoma (BB-37) under salvage at the extreme left, just beyond Salt Lake City’s forward superstructure. Note the radar antennas, gun directors, and eight-inch guns on these three heavy cruisers as well as how much different their bridges, turrets, and masts are. The rounded roofs of early Mark 9 twin and triple turrets of USS Salt Lake City and USS Pensacola contrast greatly with the later turrets of USS New Orleans on the right.80-G-264236
They also had extensive floatplane facilities including two catapults and a large hangar, with corresponding avgas bunkerage and aviation magazines. They typically operated up to four Seagulls, though the number of catapults and extremely dangerous gasoline stores were whittled down late in the war and only a pair of floatplanes carried.
New Orleans class mate USS Quincy (CA-39) looking forward over the boat deck from the secondary conn over her hangar, while the ship was at the New York Navy Yard after her last overhaul, 29 May 1942. Crude # 1 in white circle (center) marks the location of the 5″/25cal loading practice machine. Other notable items includeboats and boat cradle in foreground; four Curtiss SOC Seagull floatplanes atop the catapults; crated food piled by the after smokestack; and USS Marblehead (CL-12) at left. NHHC 19-N-30725
Curtiss SOC Seagull scout-observation aircraft leaves the port catapult of a New Orleans-class heavy cruiser, circa 1942
Our subject
The Mississippi River city of New Orleans, the site of two different battles in 1815 and 1862, had previously lent her name to a ship-of-the-line that was begun the same year as the former and sold while still in the stocks over 20 years past the latter.
U.S. Navy protected cruiser, USS New Orleans (later PG 34 and CL 22), port bow. Reproduction of a painting by Koerner & Hayes, circa 1897-98.
As such, our cruiser is the only the second USS New Orleans to reach the fleet. Laid down on 14 March 1931 at the New York Navy Yard, she was commissioned on 15 February 1934.
A great pre-war shot of the USS New Orleans shows her profile. NH 660
Her brief peacetime period took her as far as Scandinavia, a showboat for the Navy and the country before finding herself increasingly after 1936 in Pacific waters.
May 1934– heavy cruiser USS New Orleans at Stockholm along with the pansarskeppet Gustav V Sverige. Marinemuseet Fo39197
A superb image of USS New Orleans (CA-32) in English waters, in about June 1934. Note her gunnery clock and no less than four Curtiss SOC Seagull floatplanes on her catapults. Photographed by Wright & Logan, Southsea, England. Donation of Captain Joseph Finnegan, USN (Retired), 1970. U.S. Naval History and Heritage Command Photograph. NH 71787
USS New Orleans (CA-32) in port, circa 1937. Note the broad band painted on her after smokestack, probably a recognition feature. NH 50757
Cruiser USS NEW ORLEANS (CA-32) under St John Bridge, Portland
War!
In it from the very first bullet, on 7 December 1941, New Orleans was moored at Berth 16, Navy Yard Pearl Harbor undergoing engine repairs on shore power.
At 0757 sighted enemy planes “dive bombing” Ford Island and went to General Quarters immediately. At 0805 sighted enemy torpedo planes on port quarter flying low across our stern. Rifle fire and Pistol fire was opened from our fantail as the first planes flew by to launch their torpedoes at the battleships. This ship saw several planes launch their torpedoes headed in the direction of the battleships. Our 1.1/75 battery and Machine Guns aft were manned in time to actually fire at three or four enemy planes passing our stern. About 0810 all batteries, except the 8″ battery, were in action engaging such enemy planes a presented themselves as targets.
USS New Orleans (CA-32) off the Mare Island Navy Yard, California, 9 February 1942, two months after Pearl Harbor. NH 97846
Lightly damaged– her crew found no less than 29 small holes in her above water-line hull and superstructure due to flying fragments but she suffered no casualties– with the Pacific Fleet’s battleships out of service, she was soon expected to fill the gap along with her sisters.
She was soon escorting convoys throughout the South Pacific and screened the carrier USS Yorktown at Coral Sea (taking 580 of Lexington’s survivors off) in May, USS Enterprise at Midway in June, and was standing by USS Saratoga at the Battle of the Eastern Solomons in August 1942.
USS New Orleans underway during exercises in Hawaiian waters, 8 July 1942. This was just weeks after Midway, where she screened Enterprise. Note the extensive float nets and rafts on her superstructure and turrets. 80-G-10115
When Sara was torpedoed by a Japanese submarine, New Orleans spent almost 12 weeks escorting the precious flattop back to Pearl, waiting for her to be repaired (and picking up more AAA guns of her own), then escorting her back to the Solomons.
As the Japanese had fought a string of cruiser/destroyer vs cruiser/destroyer night actions at Savo Island in August (with three of New Orleans’s sisters– Astoria, Quincy, and Vincennes— lost in minutes), Cape Esperance in October (Salt Lake City lost) and Guadalcanal in November (Portland and sister San Francisco seriously damaged) in which the U.S. attrition rate when it came to heavy cruisers became untenable, it was inevitable that New Orleans would soon find herself in a scrap. One that would be the last large surface ship clash of the Solomons campaign.
This brings us to…
Tassafaronga!
RADM Carleton H. Wright’s Task Force 67– including the heavy cruisers USS Minneapolis (CA-36), USS New Orleans (CA-32), USS Northampton (CA-24), and USS Pensacola (CA-26), the light cruiser USS Honolulu (CL-48) and the destroyers USS Drayton (DD-366), USS Fletcher (DD-445), USS Maury (DD-401), USS Perkins (DD-377), USS Lamson (DD-367), and USS Lardner (DD-487)— had a rendezvous with destiny when it acted against a partially surprised and all-around inferior (on paper) Japanese “Tokyo Express” force of RADM Raizō Tanaka’s eight cargo-burdened destroyers of the IJN’s DesRon2 on the night of November 30, 1942, on the surface of Iron Bottom Sound near Lunga Point.
It went…badly.
As described by the National Museum of the Navy:
U.S. force of five cruisers and six destroyers intercepted eight Japanese destroyers bringing reinforcements to Guadalcanal and were crippled by a brilliantly executed Japanese torpedo counterattack. Heavy cruiser Northampton was sunk, while Pensacola, New Orleans, and Minneapolis were badly damaged. The Japanese only lost the destroyer Takanami. In this action, the last of the Guadalcanal campaign’s five major surface battles, the Japanese once again demonstrated their tactical superiority at night. The Navy was learning though, as would be demonstrated in 1943.
It turned out that, while the New Orleans class had better armor than the first generation of American Treaty Cruisers, they suffered from a lack of below-waterline protection and dramatic bow loss ran in the family, at least at Tassafaronga.
Sister Minneapolis, who scored many of the hits on Takanami, took two torpedo hits from Japanese destroyers, one on the port bow, the other in her number two fireroom, and her bow collapsed.
USS Minneapolis (CA-36). En route to Pearl Harbor for repairs, circa January 1943. She had lost her bow when hit by Japanese torpedoes during the Battle of Tassafaronga, off Guadalcanal on 30 November 1942. Official U.S. Navy Photograph, now in the collections of the National Archives, 80-G-44544.
New Orleans also took her lumps.
Detailed from DANFS:
When flagship Minneapolis was struck by two torpedoes, New Orleans, next astern, was forced to sheer away to avoid collision, and ran into the track of a torpedo which ripped off her bow. Bumping down the ship’s port side, the severed bow punched several holes in New Orleans’ hull. A fifth of her length gone, slowed to 2 knots, and blazing forward, the ship fought for survival. Individual acts of heroism and self-sacrifice along with skillful seamanship kept her afloat, and under her own power she entered Tulagi Harbor near daybreak on 1 December.
During the night of 30 November 1942, NEW ORLEANS was a unit of a task force which engaged a Japanese force in the action subsequently named the Battle of Lunga Point. NEW ORLEANS, firing with her main battery and steaming at 20 knots, had just started to swing to the right to avoid MINNEAPOLIS when a torpedo struck the port bow in way of turret I and detonated.
The torpedo detonation was followed immediately by a second and much heavier detonation. As a result, the bow, including turret I, was severed almost completely between turrets I and II. It swung out to port and tore loose, probably due to the starboard swing of the ship. It then floated aft and banged against the port side. Holes were torn in the shell at frames 53, 130 and 136 and the port inboard propeller was wrecked.
That secondary explosion was later determined to be from one of New Orleans’s aviation bomb and mine magazine, A-502-1/8-M, which “contained the 160-pound demolition charge and forty-nine 100-pound bombs” and that of an adjacent small arms magazine, A-502-M, which contained five 325-pound depth bombs.
From her battle damage report
She limped into Tulagi some eight hours after the battle and remained there shoring up her bow with coconut logs under a camo net for 11 days.
Port bow view as she entered Tulagi harbor about 8 hours after being struck by a torpedo, 1 December 1942
USS New Orleans (CA-32) under camouflage at Tulagi, December 1942
USS New Orleans (CA 32) Cruiser shown soon after the battle. 80-G-44447
Minneapolis did much the same, with the help of Seabees.
New Orleans then slowly sailed for Sydney, Australia, arriving on Christmas Eve 1942, her crew finally getting some much-needed rest. She would remain there until March, when, after a temporary stub bow was fitted in dry dock, she left for Puget Sound and arrived on the West Coast on 3 April 1943 after stops at Pago Pago and Pearl Harbor
USS New Orleans (CA 32) comes into the Puget Sound Navy Yard, Bremerton, Washington, for a new bow after battling with Japanese warships in Southwest Pacific. In this view, she is almost ready for joining to a new bow. The photograph was released 11 January 1944. 80-G-44448
USS New Orleans (CA-32) steams through a tight turn in Elliot Bay, Washington, on 30 July 1943, following battle damage repairs and overhaul at the Puget Sound Navy Yard. She is likely “creating a slick” for recovering a sea plane– making a smooth patch of becalmed water for the aircraft to land upon. NH 97847
USS New Orleans (CA-32) off the Puget Sound Navy Yard, Bremerton, Washington, following battle damage repairs and overhaul, 5 August 1943. NH 97848
Back in the fight
After post-rebuild workups, New Orleans sailed 5-6 October 1943 with RADM Alfred E. Montgomery’s Task Force 14 to shell Japanese-occupied Wake Island.
Wake Island Raid, October 1943. A heavy cruiser’s 8-inch guns bombard Wake, as seen from USS Minneapolis (CA-36), 5 October 1943. The two following ships are (in no particular order): USS San Francisco (CA-38) and USS New Orleans (CA-32). National Archives photograph, 80-G-81973
New Orleans would also help support Allied landings at Hollandia and the invasion of the Marianas.
Saipan Invasion, June 1944. Units of Cruiser Division SIX bombard Saipan on 14-15 June 1944. The nearest ship is USS New Orleans (CA-32). Beyond her is the light cruiser USS St. Louis (CL-49). 80-G-K-1774
She would lend her increased AAA batteries to help swat down Japanese aircraft during the Battle of the Philippine Sea while revisiting her old days of screening carriers. Then came the big shows in the Philippines and at Iwo Jima.
USS New Orleans (CA-32) at the Mare Island Navy Yard, California, 8 March 1945. The city of Vallejo is in the background. Note the ship’s welded bow structure (forward of her second 8/55 triple gun turret). This replaced her original riveted construction bow, which was lost during the Battle of Tassafaronga at the end of November 1942. Circles mark recent alterations to the ship. 19-N-80232
A rare shot at the same time and place as the above that shows her hangar open. Note that her portside catapult has been landed by this time in her career.
After a final wartime refit at Mare Island, she was back at it, hammering Japanese positions at Okinawa and was at Subic Bay when hostilities ceased.
After supporting the post-war occupation of Korea and Manchuria, she made two trips back stateside on Magic Carpet missions returning Pacific War vets to the U.S. Arriving at Philadelphia Navy Yard in March 1946, she spent an 11-month period preparing for mothballs and was decommissioned 10 February 1947.
She had earned 17 battle stars for her war– tying for third most in the theater– and gained a new bow.
Of her seven-ship class, only four were still in commission on VJ Day and three of those were so grievously damaged in action against the Japanese off Guadalcanal that they had to be extensively rebuilt. Only sister USS Tuscaloosa (CA-37), which had “luckily” fought most of her war in the ETO, was never damaged in battle.
The remainder of the New Orleans class in the 1946 edition of Janes.
Cruisers and other warships laid up in the Philadelphia Yard Reserve Fleet Basin, circa 1947. The outboard ship in the left group is USS St. Louis (CL-49). Ships in the background include (in no order): USS San Francisco (CA-38), USS Tuscaloosa (CA-37), USS Minneapolis (CA-36), USS New Orleans (CA-32), USS Louisville (CA-28), and USS Portland (CA-33). Courtesy of “All Hands” magazine. Catalog NH 92254
After spending 12 years along Philly’s red lead row, the vaunted USS New Orleans had her name struck from the Navy List on 1 March 1959 and was sold for scrapping on 22 September 1959 to the Boston Metals Co., Baltimore, Md. Similar fates were met by her three remaining sisters at the same time.
Her ship’s bell– presented to the cruiser by the Louisiana State Museum in 1933– is on display in New Orleans City Hall, just outside the Mayor’s Office.
With the old New Orleans sent to the breakers, the Navy soon recycled her name for a new Iwo Jima-class amphibious assault ship commissioned in 1968 and would go on to serve three decades.
The U.S. Navy amphibious assault ship USS New Orleans (LPH-11) underway in San Diego Bay, California (USA), on 16 June 1988. AH-1 Cobra, CH-53E Sea Stallion, and CH-46 Sea Knight helicopters line the flight deck. In the background is the submarine tender USS McKee (AS-41) and the submarine rescue ship USS Florikan (ASR-9). Date 16 June 1988. NH 107677-KN
Then came the Ingalls-built USS New Orleans (LPD-18), a massive 25,000-ton San Antonio-class amphibious transport dock, commissioned in the Crescent City in 2007 and still in service.
The U.S. Navy (Pre-Commissioned Unit) San Antonio Class Amphibious Transport Dock Ship USS New Orleans (LPD 18) sails beneath the Huey P. Long Bridge as it moves on the Mississippi River towards New Orleans, La., on March 5, 2007, in preparation for its commissioning ceremony on March 10, 2007. MCS Kurt Eischen, USN.
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80 Years Ago: A 6th Naval Construction Battalion (Seabee) baker, M1911 on his side for those special moments, bakes bread in an oven recycled from Japanese materials at Guadalcanal, 26 October 1942. The pistol is not puffery. Just a few weeks prior, a Japanese offensive pushed the Marine lines back to the Lunga River at a point only 150 feet from the West end of Guadalcanal’s embattled Henderson Field, home to the Cactus Air Force. With the Marines entrenched in fighting at one end of the field, the Bees were carrying on construction at the other.
Seabee Museum photo.
NCB 6 was formed from volunteers in May 1942 at Camp Bradford outside of Norfolk then, after a 48-hour train ride, arrived at Gulfport, Mississippi on 24 June– the first battalion at the installation where now about half of the Seabee force is based. Their first building task was to erect the flagpole at Gulfport.
Before the end of July, “equipped as a combination of soldier, sailor and construction worker, they were ready to tackle their first assignment” and shipped out of San Francisco for the Western Pacific in the holds of the SS President Polk and USS Wharton.
Most of the men of the battalion had been in the Navy for less than 90 days.
The first elements of NCB 6 landed at Espiritu Santo on the morning of 17 August, just days after the Marines went in at Guadalcanal, and went about their work building three piers from a camp set up in a coconut grove. On 1 September, the Bees headed to Guadalcanal to get into the airfield business.
As noted in the unit’s war history:
At Guadalcanal, the Seabees of NCB 6 lengthened and maintained Henderson Field, constructed piers, bridges, tunnels, roads, a Patrol Torpedo Boat Base, a tank farm, and a power plant, which they also operated. Most of the work was accomplished under enemy fire: strafing and bombardment from Japanese aircraft and shelling from the Japanese fleet.
U.S. Naval Construction Battalion 6 was inactivated on 13 September 1945 at Okinawa, Ryukyu Islands. However, it would soon be reformed as NMCB 6 and serve extensively in Vietnam, but that is another story.