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Warship Wednesday (on a Thursday) Nov. 16, 2023: The Darkest Twist

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

Warship Wednesday (on a Thursday) Nov. 16, 2023: The Darkest Twist

Official USN photo probably by Tai Sing Loo, courtesy of George & Linda Salava. This photo was from the collection of FC3 Frank Salava who was lost when the Sculpin (SS-191) was sunk & 62 other crewmen were K.I.A. on 19 November 1943. Via Navsource

Above we see the S-type (Sargo-class) fleet boat USS Sculpin (SS-191) entering Pearl Harbor sometime between April 1940 and October 1941, in tense but happy times. Note the bright white pre-war pennant numbers on her fairwater. Sculpin would soon be at war, one that she would not emerge.

The Sargo class

The 10 early fleet boats of the Sargo class came in the wake of the half-dozen very similar Salmon class vessels (indeed, they are typically referred to as the “S-Class 2nd Group”) and 10 early 1930s Porpoise class boats, which paved the way for the Navy to get the long-range Pacific submarine design nailed down in the follow-on Tambor, Gato (85 boats), Balao (134 boats), and Tench (29 boat) classes. Importantly, their new and improved battery design would become the standard for American diesel boats through the 1950s when they were replaced by the Sargo II batteries under the GUPPY program.

View of some of the Sargo-type battery cells as seen through a floor hatch aboard the museum ship, the Balao-class submarine USS Ling (SS-297), located in Hackensack, New Jersey. Photo date 31 Aug 2013 “Instead of a single hard rubber case, it had two concentric hard rubber cases with a layer of soft rubber between them. This was to prevent sulfuric acid leakage in the event one case cracked during depth-charging. Leaking sulfuric acid is capable of corroding steel, burning the skin of crew members it came into contact with, and if mixed with any seawater in the bilges would generate poisonous chlorine gas.”

Some 2,300 tons (submerged) the Sargos ran 310 feet overall, a foot shorter than the much more prolific Gatos.

Capable of making 21 knots on the surface and with a range of 11,000 nm, they had an operational depth of over 250 feet and carried an impressive main battery of eight (four forward, four aft) 21-inch torpedo tubes and the ability to carry 24 torpedoes. Meanwhile, the deck gun was a puny 3″/50 DP wet mount (which was later replaced by a bigger 4″50 later in the war).

The 10 Sargos were all given aquatic names beginning with “S” and were built by EB in Groton (Sargo, Saury, Spearfish, Seadragon and Sealion), Mare Island Navy Yard (Swordfish) and Portsmouth Navy Yard in Maine (Sculpin, Squalus, Searaven, and Seawolf) on an extremely compressed timeline with the first being laid down in May 1937 and the last commissioning in December 1939– just 31 months. Not bad for peacetime production.

Launch of Sargo-class submarine USS Swordfish (SS-193) at Mare Island Navy Yard, California on April 1st, 1939. This is the earliest known color Official Navy Photograph that can be precisely dated.

Still, the class was cramped, with just 36 bunks for 62 enlisted men.

Meet Scuplin

Our subject is the first Navy ship to be named in honor of the “spiny, large-headed, broad-mouthed, usually scale-less fish of the family Cottidae” and was laid down on 7 September 1937 at Portsmouth, launched on 27 July 1938, and commissioned on 16 January 1939.

Sculpin launched

No sooner had she begun her career than, while on shakedown, Sculpin was tasked with finding lost classmate (and yard mate) USS Squalus (SS-192), which had suffered a catastrophic valve failure during a test dive off the Isle of Shoals at 0740 on 23 May, drowning 26 men immediately. Partially flooded, Squalus sank to the bottom and came to rest, keel down, in 40 fathoms of water with 32 surviving crewmembers and one civilian trapped in the forward section.

USS Squalus Sweating It Out. Painting, Watercolor, and Ink on Paper; by John Groth; 1966; Unframed Dimensions 26H X 36W NHHC Accession #: 88-161-QX

At 1040, when Squalus was an hour overdue for regular check-in, the red flag went up.

Luckily, Sculpin was due to leave Portsmouth for Newport at 1130 and was directed to the last known position of Squalus.

By 1241, Sculpin spotted a red smoke bomb from Squalus and soon after found the lost boat’s marker buoy and attached telephone line then contacted the survivors some 240 feet down.

Fixing the sub’s position via sonar, Sculpin stood by while the Navy’s Experimental Dive Unit own Allan Rockwell McCann and Charles Bowers Momsen arrived on the old Great War Lapwing-class minesweeper-turned-submarine rescue ship USS Falcon (AM-28/ASR-2) and a swarm of Coast Guard assets to begin the rescue.

Aerial photograph showing, from left to right, fleet tug USS Wandank, submarine USS Sculpin, submarine rescue ship USS Falcon, naval shipyard tug Penacook, and Lighthouse Service tender Hibiscus, in addition to Coast Guard boats and spectator boats. USCG Photo 230717-G-ZW188-2000

Four enlisted divers using then-new heliox diving schedules and the McCann Submarine Rescue Chamber (SRC) ran constantly for 14 hours making four trips down to Squalus’s forward trunk, rescuing all 33 survivors.

A fifth trip was made to the Squalus’s after torpedo room hatch to verify that no men survived in the flooded portion of the boat — one of the most stirring successes in submarine rescue operations.

The four enlisted divers– Chief Boatswain’s Mate Orson L. Crandall, Chief Metalsmith James Harper McDonald, Chief Machinist’s Mate William Badders, and Chief Torpedoman John Mihalowski — received rare peacetime Medals of Honor in January 1940.

Squalus was eventually raised in July 1939 with the help of Sculpin and repaired, and was put back into service as USS Sailfish, with the same hull number (SS-192). More on her later.

Submarine Sculpin Lying off the Port Beam of the Salvage Ship Falcon, Assisting with Pumping Operations through a Hose Line. NARA

View from the USS Sculpin of the Raising of the Pontoons Attached to the Bow of the USS Squalus. NARA

USN 1149026

Salvage of USS Squalus (SS-192). USS Falcon (ASR-2) moored over the sunken Squalus, during salvage operations off the New Hampshire coast in the Summer of 1939. USS Sculpin (SS-191) is in the right background. USN 1149028

War!

Sculpin and her class were built for the looming war in the Pacific and, as soon as she wrapped up her duty in the Squalus rescue and raising, she was off to Pearl Harbor, arriving there in April 1940 via “The Ditch” and San Diego. Operating from Hawaii with the Pacific Fleet, with tensions bubbling up with the Empire of Japan, she was forward deployed 5,100 miles West to Admiral Thomas Hart’s Asiatic Fleet in the Philippines in late October, arriving at Cavite Navy Yard on 8 November to join Submarine Division 22.

A month later the war got real.

Just after the inaugural Japanese air raids from Formosa, Sculpin and her sister USS Seawolf (SS-197) got underway from Cavite on 8 December 1941 to escort the old aircraft carrier Langley (then used as an aircraft transport, pennant AV-3), and the precious oilers USS Pecos (AO–6) and USS Trinity (AO-13) from the yard off Sangley Point that evening, clearing the American minefield and zig-zagging through the Verde Island Passage with her skipper noting “Langley used general signals freely, probably unaware that we have landed the greater part of our classified publications.”

Handing Langley and the two irreplaceable tankers to the four-piper destroyers USS Pope (DD-225) and USS John D. Ford (DD-228) the next morning to shepherd further to Dutch Borneo, the Sculpin and Seawolf separated and embarked on their first war patrols. They made it out of Cavite just in time as it was attacked on the morning of 10 December by 80 Japanese bombers and 52 fighter planes, destroying it as a base for the Asiatic Fleet and leaving 500 dead. Among the shattered vessels left at Cavite was Sargo-class sister USS Sealion (SS-195).

Sculpin conducted her patrol like clockwork, submerging just before dawn in her assigned zone north of Luzon, patrolling slowly on her electric motors at 100 feet down, surfacing at dusk, and remaining on the surface all night with lookouts. She was plagued with mechanical issues, suffering a freon leak in her refrigerator, shipping water from her No. 7 torpedo tube, and her fathometer called it quits on the fourth day of the war. Worse, she was beset with a lack of targets, only encountering the occasional passing local sampans and coasters.

On 10 January, she came across a juicy target, a 10-ship Japanese convoy off the Surigao Strait. She worked close enough to get a bead on a big freighter thought to have been of the Shoei Maru type and fired four torpedoes with two believed to have been hits.

While DANFS lists this as “possibly Sculpin should be given credit for eliminating 3,817-ton merchantman, Akita Maru” it is generally thought that that vessel, an Army transport, was sunk the same day some distance away at the mouth of the Gulf of Siam along with the cargo ship Tairyu Maru by the hard-charging Dutch sub Hr.Ms. O-19.

Sculpin ended her 1st patrol on 22 January 1942 at Surabaya, Java, having sailed some 6,921 miles.

Her 2nd war patrol started a week later, leaving Java to patrol the Celebes in the south Philippines on 30 January. There, on 4 February, she torpedoed and damaged the Japanese destroyer Suzukaze off Staring Bay, south of Kendari, Celebes. Suzukaze was heavily damaged, with nine of her crew killed, and was knocked out of the war for five months. Two days later she attacked and sank what was reported to be a “heavily screened Tenry-class enemy cruiser.”

Sculpin had a third run on a convoy spoiled by a grueling depth charge attack on 17 February– with the explosions jamming the steering and stern planes of the boat forcing her to a near-crush depth of 340 feet, and ending her patrol to seek repairs at Exmouth Bay, Australia.

Her third patrol, begun from Australia in March after she had been roughly patched up, included three attacks made while in patrol off the Moluccas while struggling with a new radar installation and faulty torpedoes. She steamed 7,895 miles in 21 days, about 80 percent of that on the surface.

With the war just over four months old, and most of that spent running and fighting in Japanese-controlled waters, constantly shifting homeports further and further south, her crew was at the breaking point.

As noted by her skipper, LT Lucius Henry Chappell (USNA 1927):

Her 4th war patrol, in the South China Sea from 29 May to 17 July, would be even longer, stretching 9,349 miles.

Her 5th patrol would be her most successful, leaving Brisbane on 8 September to patrol in the target-rich Bismarck Sea with the Solomons Campaign underway. She torpedoed and damaged the Japanese seaplane carrier Nisshin east of Kokoda Island off New Britain on 28 September and was damaged by depth charges but was able to continue her patrol, going on to sink the troop transports Naminoue Maru (4731 GRT) and Sumiyoshi Maru (1921 GRT) in early October before arriving back at Brisbane on 26 October then made a run on the light cruiser Yura without success.

The tactics had changed, with 42 of 48 days of her 5th war patrol spent with at least some time submerged, cruising some 8,594 miles.

Her 6th patrol, off Truk in the Caroline Islands from 18 November through the end of the year, netted no trophies– although she did stalk a Japanese flattop on the surface at night and earn some bracketing shell fire as a participation award– after ending it on 8 January 1943 at Pearl Harbor, she sailed back to the West Coast for a much-needed overhaul.

At this point in her career, she carried 13 enemy ships on her Jolly Roger.

“Undersea Hunters Mark Up 13 Victories. They found good hunting. Back at a Pacific base after a cruise in enemy waters, officers and crew of the Sculpin (SS-191) display a flag symbolic of three Japanese warships and ten merchantmen sent to the bottom.” Crew photo taken 7 March 1943. The men are from left to right, (Front Row) Carlos Tulea, 29, OS2c (officers steward) of Cavite, P.I.; Lt Corwin G. Mendenhall, USN, 26, of Anehuac, Texas; Weldon E. Moore, Chief Signalman, 34, of Colorado Springs. Colorado;(KIA), Lt. John H. Turner, USN, 29. (Back Row) John J. Pepersack, Chief Electrician, 42 of Baltimore, MD; A. W. Coulter, QM3/c, 20, of St. Louis, MO; K. E. Waidelich, SM3c, 21, of Jackson, Michigan; Charlie Coleman, MoMM2c, 24, Philadelphia, PA (KIA); John Swift, EM1c, 25, of Newfane, NY; John J. Hollenbach, MM1c, 27 of Brookville, ID; Ralph S. Austin, MM2c, 21, of Springtown, TX; F. J. Dyboske, CEM, 33, of Rockford, IL; C. A. De Armond, MM1c, 30, of Denver CO. Text i.d. courtesy of Ric Hednan. (Official U. S. Navy photo from NEA). Image and text provided by the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill Library, Chapel Hill, NC. Photo & text by The Wilmington Morning Star. (Wilmington, N.C.) 1909-1990, 10 March 1943, FINAL EDITION, Image 1, courtesy of chroniclingamerica.loc.gov.

A better version of the above image.

Her refit left her with a series of great images of her late-war appearance, including moving her 3-inch popgun forward of the tower.

USS Sculpin (SS-191) At the Bethlehem Steel Company shipyard, San Francisco, California, on 1 May 1943, following an overhaul. This view of the forward end of her sail identifies changes recently made to the ship. Note 20mm and 3/50 guns: SD and SJ radar antennas. NH 97305

USS Sculpin (SS-191) At the Bethlehem Steel Company shipyard, San Francisco, California, on 1 May 1943, following an overhaul. This view of the after end of her sail identifies changes recently made to the ship. Note 20mm gun, SD and SJ radar antennas. The Coast Guard lighthouse tender Balsam (WAGL-62) is in the floating drydock in the right background. NH 97306

USS Sculpin (SS-191) In San Francisco Bay, California, on 1 May 1943, following an overhaul. The San Francisco Bay Bridge is in the background. NH 97303

Same as above, NH 97302

Back in the war, she started her 7th war patrol from Pearl Harbor on 24 May, bound for Japanese home waters where she stalked the light carrier Hiyo and sank two small vessels via naval gunfire off Inubozak, ending her patrol on Independence Day in Midway.

Her 8th war patrol, leaving Midway on 25 July, would span some 9,074 miles of ocean and she claimed a 4,000-ton AK sunk– postwar confirmed as the cargo ship Sekko Maru (3183 GRT) — off Formosa. Returning to Midway on 17 September, LT Chappell, who had earned two Navy Crosses on Sculpin, would leave the boat he had commanded since April 1941 to command Submarine Division 281.

Chappell survived the war and later had command of Submarine Squadron 7, USS Mt. McKinley (AGC-7), and the cruiser USS Quincy (CA-71) — ironic considering he claimed at least two attacks on Japanese cruisers during the war. While a rear admiral, he served as the technical advisor to films The Wackiest Ship in the Army and Operation Petticoat, the latter in which the USS Balao (SS 285) was painted pink. He passed away in 1980.

Sculpin’s new skipper, LCDR Fred “Fee” Connaway (USNA 1932), formerly XO and skipper of the training boats USS S-13 (SS-118) and USS S-48 (SS 159), took over on 20 October.

Two weeks later, with a third of her 84 men aboard sailing to war for the first time, on 5 November, Sculpin left Pearl Harbor for her 9th war patrol in a wolf pack (err, “Submarine Coordinated Attack Group”) with two other submarines (Searaven and Apagon), ordered to patrol north of Truk, to intercept and attack Japanese forces leaving that stronghold to oppose the planned Allied invasion of the Tarawa in the Gilbert Islands.

The wolf pack commodore’s flag, carried aboard Sculpin, was Captain John P. Cromwell (USNA 1924), formerly commander of Submarine Divisions 203, 44, and 43 and one of the stars of COMSUBPAC VADM Charles Lockwood’s staff. He had been an officer in the Bureau of Engineering/BuShips in Washington for two years concerning submarine development and was the Engineering officer for the Pacific Fleet’s Sub force. In short, if it was submarine-related, he knew it including details of performance, construction, machinery, communications, and exploitable flaws. Plus, he was privy to Ultra intercept secrets.

Sculpin, Connaway, and Cromwell would never come back, with the submarine reported missing in November, presumed lost on 30 December, and struck from the Navy list on 25 March 1944.

The Tragic End

Post-VJ Day, Allied rescuers recovered 21 members of Sculpin’s final crew from Japanese prison camps working the copper mines of Ashio, mostly junior enlisted but including one officer (Diving officer LT George E Brown., Jr.– who was kept in solitary confinement when not being interrogated, put on reduced rations, given frequent beatings, and threatened with death if he refused to answer questions).

Pieced together from their interviews, the sub attacked a Japanese convoy on the night of 18 November, but it all went pear-shaped and by the next morning, she was battered and headed to the mat, racing down to 700 feet at one point. This led ultimately to a last-ditch surface gunfight with the Japanese destroyer Yamagumo at point-blank range.

As detailed by Combined Fleets: 

19 November:
Encountered enemy submarine.
Action:

  • 0640 Sighted enemy submarine (USS SCULPIN) surfacing on the port beam, and seeing it submerge begins a series of alternate depth-charge and pinging runs.
  • 1109 the damaged submarine accidentally broaches the surface, and the destroyer intensifies the attack.
  • 1256 The SCULPIN surfaces, being crippled and unable to stay submerged. The submarine opts for a desperate gunfire duel with its starboard side facing YAMAGUMO’s starboard side as they exchange fire at 2,000 yards.
  • 1307 The submarine is listing and the destroyer ceases fire and ten minutes later dispatches rescue boats as the scuttled submarine submerges for the last time in what looked to her survivors almost like a normal dive. Forty-one survivors are rescued, and YAMAGUMO returns to Truk with them.

As detailed by the NHHC:

About noon on 19 November, a close string of 18 depth charges threw Sculpin, already at deep depth, badly out of control. The pressure hull was distorted, she was leaking, the steering and diving plane gear were damaged and she was badly out of trim. Commander Connaway decided to surface and to fight clear.

The ship was surfaced and went to gun action.

During the battle Commander Connaway and the Gunnery Officer were on the bridge, and the Executive Officer was in the conning tower. When the destroyer placed a shell through the main induction and one or more through the conning tower, these officers and several men were killed. Lt. Brown succeeded to command. He decided to scuttle the ship, and gave the order “all hands abandon ship.” After giving the order the last time the ship was dived at emergency speed by opening all vents.

About 12 men rode the ship down, including Captain Cromwell and one other officer, both of whom refused to leave it. Captain Cromwell, being familiar with plans for our operations in the Gilberts and other areas, stayed with the ship to ensure that the enemy could not gain any of the information he possessed.

The Japanese pulled 42 men from the ocean, tossed one back overboard that was seriously wounded, and landed 3 officers and 38 men at Truk for rough questioning.

Separating these into two groups for transport to Japan, the first, consisting of 21 men, was in the brig of the escort carrier Chuyo when she was sunk by the Sailfish (SS-192) — ironically the old Squalus that Sculpin had been so key in rescuing and raising in 1939.

Only one wounded American made it off Chuyo, George Rocek, MoMMIc, USN, who was rescued by a Japanese destroyer (again) only to be sent to join the rest of his crewmates in the Ashio copper mines, who had made it safely to Japan in the brig of the carrier Un’yō. The mines also held survivors from the lost American subs USS Grenadier, Perch, Sculpin, Tang, S-44, and Tullibee.

Sculpin was awarded eight battle stars for her service in World War II, in addition to the Philippine Presidential Unit Citation. Her wartime tally, not entirely confirmed by post-war records, was sinking 9 ships for 42,200 tons and damaging 10, totaling 63,000 tons.

Epilogue

Sculpin is one of 52 U.S. submarines lost in WWII-– almost one out of five subs that logged combat patrols– taking with them 374 officers and 3,131 enlisted men. These personnel losses represented 16 percent of the officers and 13 percent of the enlisted operational personnel in the submarine branch.

Her final desperate stand is remembered in maritime art.

DUE 117: USN Submarine vs IJN Antisubmarine Escort,’ illustrated by Ian Palmer, shows the death of USS Sculpin, via Osprey Publications.

The 1950s TV show “Silent Service” had an episode devoted to Sculpin, including a guest appearance by LT Brown. 

The reports for the first eight of her patrols are in the National Archives. 

Considered to be on Eternal Patrol, Sculpin and her lost crew are thus remembered in several memorials nationwide. Her sisters Seawolf, Sealion, and Swordfish are also among the 52.

Their names are inscribed on a memorial at the USS Albacore Museum in New Hampshire. (Photo: Chris Eger)

When it came to the rest of the 10-boat Sargo class, they were disposed of shortly after the war as obsolete, all sold for scrap or sunk as targets before their 10th birthdays. They claimed no less than 73 enemy ships during the war and chalked up 84 battle stars between them. Class member Seawolf (SS-197) is tied for seventh place in confirmed ships sunk by U.S. subs, according to the postwar accounting of the Joint Army–Navy Assessment Committee (JANAC).

LT Brown earned a November 1945 Silver Star for his performance during Sculpin’s doomed final patrol. He had made five runs with USS S-40, and four on Sculpin, filling his dance card long before he spent the last 23 months of the war in a hellish series of POW camps.

First-Class Motor Machinist’s Mate George Rocek passed in 2007, aged a ripe old 86, having seen some serious shit including being in the unenviable position of being rescued twice by the Japanese from the sea.

Cromwell, the wolf pack commander who had served on ADM Lockwood’s staff and whose head was filled with Ultra intercept secrets that he took to the bottom with him, would be recommended for and receive the Medal of Honor, posthumously, and the destroyer escort USS Cromwell (DE-1014), commissioned in 1954, was named in his honor.

He was the most senior submariner to earn the MOH and LT Brown, the last man to see him alive, recalled him “sitting on an empty 20mm shell container, holding a picture of his wife and children” as Sculpin was going down.

Cromwell’s wife, Margaret, received his Medal of Honor with it being placed on his son John P. “Duke” Cromwell, Jr. (USNA ’51, ret Capt.) by VADM Richard S. Edwards (USNA 1907), commander of Western Sea Frontier.

Cromwell’s sacrifice has been well recorded in naval lore, from comic books to novels and tomes of military history. He and Connaway is remembered in Memorial Hall at the United States Naval Academy where his name is engraved under the “DONT GIVE UP THE SHIP” flag honoring those alumni killed in action.

Vignette gives details on why Captain Cromwell received the Medal of Honor for actions taken during the loss of USS Sculpin on 19 November 1943, by Mario DeMarco, published in the Navy Times circa 1956. NH 86993

“There is a port of no return-” Captain John P. Cromwell goes down with the stricken Sculpin (SS-191) to prevent seizure and possible enemy extortion of special information confided to his care. The sea will keep his secret well, and his name will become a naval synonym for valor. “Sailor, rest your oar-” Drawing by Lt. Cmdr. Fred Freemen, courtesy of Theodore Roscoe, from his book “U.S. Submarine Operations of WW II”, published by USNI, via Navsource.

OAAW #239 1971 by Norman Maurer

OAAW #239 1971 by Norman Maurer

As for Sculpin, while plans for a Tench class submarine to carry her name onward failed when the war ended, about the only tangible part of her is the eight-patrol Jolly Roger battle flag presented by the crew to LT (later RADM) Chappell when he left the boat in 1943.

It is cherished and maintained by his family. Photo courtesy of Randy Chappell, son of Lt. Commander Lucius H Chappell, via PIGBOATs. 

Fred Connaway, the skipper of Sculpin killed in her last surface engagement, was posthumously awarded the Silver Star. Fred’s widow, Loretta, was there with three former POWs of Sculpin’s last crew– including LT Brown– when the new Skipjack-class hunter-killer USS Sculpin (SSN-590) was launched in Pascagoula on 31 March 1960.

USS Sculpin (SS (N) -590) Sponsor and three survivors of the first SCULPIN. L to R: Mr. George Brown, Mrs. Fred Connaway, Mr. Paul L. Murphy, Mr. Billy M. Cooper NH 108726

USS Sculpin (SSN-590) launching, 31 March 1960 Ingalls east bank Pascagoula NH 108730

The second Sculpin served until 1990 then was decommissioned and recycled.

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

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Warship Wednesday, Nov. 8, 2023: Wrong Place at the Wrong Time

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

Warship Wednesday, Nov. 8, 2023: Wrong Place at the Wrong Time

Above we see the mighty King Edward VII class battleship HMS Britannia, circa 1908, in all her fine peacetime glory. She would give more wartime service than her sisters and came within two days of finishing the conflict unscathed, tragically sent to the bottom 105 years ago this week.

The King Edward VII class

Hitting over 17,000 tons when fully loaded and with a 453-foot overall length, the eight battleships of the King Edward VII class (King Edward VII, Africa, Britannia, Commonwealth, Dominion, Hibernia, Hindustan, and New Zealand/Zealandia) were big for pre-Dreadnoughts (more than 2,000 tons heavier and 30 feet longer than the preceding Duncan class), as well as being fast, capable of hitting 18.5 knots on a pair of triple expansion steam engines driven by as many as 18 water tube boilers.

King Edward VII, the class leader, was completed in February 1905, just 22 months before HMS Dreadnought.

Carrying a 9-inch Krupp armor belt with barbettes, turrets, conning tower, and bulkheads thickening to as much as 12 inches, they could take abuse and could dish it out as well in the form of four BL 12″/40 (30.5 cm) Mark IX guns-– which were the first large-caliber British gun to use a Welin breech mechanism that considerably shortened the loading time. 

Forecastle of HMS Britannia ca. October 1914. Note the forward twin 12-inch/40 mount

Rather than the 6-inch secondary battery of the Duncans, the KEVIIs carried another four 9.2″/47 (23.4 cm) Mark Xs in single gun beam turrets with about a 170-degree arc of fire and 10 6-inch casemates as a tertiary battery.

Note one of the four single 9.2-inch mounts

Added to this were nearly 30 12- and 3-pounder counter-boat guns and a quartet of 18-inch torpedo tubes.

Jane’s 1914 on the King Edward VII class

Had it not been for the fact that Dreadnought came along in 1906, the KEVIIs would have been top-of-the-line but instead were obsolete almost as soon as they were finished. In fact, other than the two Lord Nelson-class battleships (which were just improved KEVIIs) the King Edward VII class was the last pre-Dreadnoughts ordered by the Admiralty.

Meet Britannia

Our subject is the sixth RN warship– going back to a 100-gun first-rate ship of the line launched in 1682– to carry the name of Britannia, the goddess and personification of Great Britain.

National Service Britannia poster by Septimus E. Scott Great Wr

One of the most majestic and hard-serving of the five prior ships (all sail-powered) was the 120-gun first-rate launched in 1820 and remained in the line through 1859 then endured as a training hulk for some years after.

HMS Britannia entering Devonport Harbor, 1820. Hand-colored lithograph print, from a painting by Thomas Lyle Hornbrook, (L) and HMS Britannia, a 120-gun first-rate ship of the line, lithograph by John Ward (R).

Laid down on 4 February 1904 at the Portsmouth Dockyard, our Britannia was launched that December and entered service in September 1906, just three months before Dreadnought— a short run on top!

Battleship HMS Britannia 1906 Symonds & Co Collection IWM Q 21042

Battleship HMS Britannia Photo by E Hopkins IWM Q 75235

Still, the new class of KEVIIs were majestic for a time and served as a unit with first the Channel Fleet and then the Home Fleet, with the class leader as the flag of each in turn.

Noted maritime artist William Lionel Wyllie sailed with the squadron and captured them in his eye.

Battleships steaming in two columns towards the artist’s viewpoint, led by the ‘King Edward VII’class ‘Britannia’ of 1904 on the right by William Lionel Wyllie. The ships are all of the type colloquially known as pre-dreadnoughts and the date is 1906-07, since ‘Britannia’ was the only one to carry a white funnel band mid-way on each funnel and she only wore these bands in those years. Wyllie has apparently used a very large number of pins to hold the paper down, suggesting the sketch may have been made at sea. National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London RMG PU9918

“No.2 / Reduce speed to 30 Revolutions’ [‘King Edward VII’, ‘New Zealand’, ‘Hibernia’, ‘Britannia’, ‘Hindustan’, ‘Africa’] by William Lionel Wyllie. Numbered and inscribed by the artist, as title, and with the ship names identifying those shown. It is one of a group of four (PAE1035-PAE1038) showing battleships of the ‘King Edward VII’ class during squadron evolutions in the period 1907-09 while serving in the Channel Fleet. The set, each within a ruled frame, was probably made for illustration use. National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London RMG PV1036

A general view of Line B with the battleships at anchor during the Naval Review or Kings Review of the Fleet at Spithead. HMS King Edward VII in front, with Britannia, Hindostan, and Dominion behind. The ship on the column on the left side of the photo is the Queen. The ships were in Spithead for a naval review witnessed by King Edward VII, in July 1909. National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London RMG 4793355124

King Edward VII-class battleships on maneuvers ca. 1909

By 1912, with the number of modern fast battleships filling the ranks of the Royal Navy, the eight still young but out-gunned KEVIIs made up the newly-formed 3rd Battle Squadron, where they were nicknamed “the wobbly eight” due to their slight tendency to roll in heavy seas and have issues holding formation due to their hull form.

HMS Hindustan seen astern of HMS Britannia ca. October 1914. While they had long legs, the KEVII’s were not great seaboats

And, of course, running these coal-eating and steel-spitting leviathans required a lot of hard work. 

Royal Naval Coaling Crew, HMS Britannia 12.9.09. The class had bunkerage for 2,150 tons of coal and another 400 of oil for superheating, allowing a range of 7,000nm at 10 knots. 

Soon after they were ordered to the Mediterranean to stand by during the Balkan Wars but were back in home waters by 1913.

Royal Navy’s Third Battleship Squadron at Valetta’s Grand Harbour, Malta – 1st December 1912. Working from left to right HMS Hindustan (bow only), Africa, Hibernia, and King Edward VII.

War!

The 3rd Battle Squadron, under VADM Edward Bradford, spent the tail end of 1914 and most of 1915 racing around in support of the cruisers on the Northern Patrol but managed to not bump into the Germans.

Battleship HMS Britannia 1914 Symonds & Co Collection IWM Q 21043A

It was during this period that Britannia ran aground on Inchkeith in January 1915 and suffered severe damage that took her offline for repairs at Devonport. Further, Hibernia and Zealandia were detached for Gallipoli.

The squadron was permanently reduced in early 1916 when class leader King Edward VII struck a mine laid by the German auxiliary cruiser SMS Mowe off Cape Wrath and took 10 hours to sink. The remaining seven members, with Hibernia and Zealandia, returned and Britannia back from repair, screened by the 3rd Cruiser Squadron (HMS Antrim, Devonshire, and Roxburgh) and the destroyers Beaver, Druid, Ferret, Hind, Hornet, Mastiff, Matchless, and Sandfly, was left behind when the Grand Fleet went to scrap with Scheer at Jutland in May.

Post-Jutland and with the Allied effort to force the Dardanelles abandoned, there was little for Britannia and the rest of the 3rd BS to do in Northern Europe, and she and sister Africa were sent to rove in warmer waters.

Britannia left Portsmouth on 18 October 1916 for Taranto via Gibraltar and Malta, arriving in the Italian port on 20 November. She would remain there through Christmas and New Years, conducting training and sending parties ashore before shoving off on 16 February 1917 for the South Atlantic, turning left at Gibraltar and heading to Freetown, Sierra Leone then setting out to escort a six-ship convoy from West Africa to Bermuda in late March.

Returning to Sierra Leone in May, Britannia would sortie 3,700 miles down the continent to Simonstown, South Africa, beginning on 7 June 1917 in convoy with two merchantmen, passing the French cruiser Dupleix and Japanese cruiser Tsushima with their own Northbound convoys on the way. Britannia would arrive in South Africa then promptly turn back around on the 26th with another Freetown-bound eight-ship convoy, arriving there on 11 July when she hoisted the flag of RADM T.D.L. Sheppard, commanding the 9th Cruiser Squadron.

After a quick run to Ascension, Britannia would return to Freetown to pick up a 10-ship convoy to Simonstown on 8 August and remain in South African waters for a spell, shifting to Cape Town, before heading back to Sierra Leone at the end of September– with the battleship herself carrying a load of bullion north in addition to her escort role.

“Nearing Cape Town.” Portrait of a ship and the Table mountain range behind taken from the SS Durham Castle which was being escorted by HMS Britannia from Sierra Leone to Cape Town. The image is from an album chronicling the wartime experiences of Archibald Clive Irvine (1893-1974) in East Africa. During this time he would meet Dr John W Arthur which in turn would lead to his missionary work at Chogoria in Kenya.

This 8,000-mile roundtrip convoy-and-gold run would repeat another five times (November 1917, January 1918, March 1918, May 1918, and July 1918), shelping gold from South African mines to Freetown for further shipment to England from there, then returning to Simonstown with ammunition and stores that had been sent down from Europe.

In general, she would accomplish the trip in 15 days from port to port, making the 3,700-mile trip at about 10 knots the whole way. While the idea of a sole battlewagon with no other escorts shepherding a slow convoy would seem ludicrous to most in WWII, in 1917-18 it wasn’t a bad idea when you keep in mind this was off Africa and the most likely German warship encountered would have been the occasional auxiliary cruiser commerce raider of the same sort as SMS Mowe (9,800t, 4×6″, 1x 4″, 2xtt, 13 knots) and SMS Wolf (11,000t, 8×6″, 4xtt, 11 knots). It was boring work, but Britannia found a useful niche that arguably needed a pre-dreadnought battleship to fill. Meanwhile, her six sisters left behind in Europe were at this time being relegated to ignoble use as depot, training, floating barracks, and support ships.

On 20 October 1918, she set off for Gibraltar on her final convoy run.

While our battleship did not (knowingly) come across a U-boat in all of these African cruises, between June 1917 and September 1918, her deck logs noted that she put her periscope target over the side for gunners and spotters to work with while underway on no less than 39 occasions while she “exercised submarine stations.” Besides, other than the rare case of the large cruiser submarine U-154 appearing off the coast of Liberia in April 1918, no German U-boat of the Great War made it into the South Atlantic.

In fact, Britannia almost made it to the Armistice without having a bad interaction with the Kaiser’s underwater sharks.

Almost.

The Tragic Final Act

The UB III type submarine SM UB 50 under Oblt. Heinrich Kukat was roving out from the Med in November 1918 from her home as part of the Pola, Croatia-based Mittelmeer II Flotilla. Notably, U-Flottille Pola had at the time been disbanded as Austro-Hungary was rapidly leaving the war (and dissolving as a country) with the eight remaining KM U-boats still there on 28 October (U-47, U-65, UB-48, UB-116, UC-25, UC-53, and UC-54) scuttled by their crews.

UB 50 had already been a terribly busy and successful boat during the war,  credited with sinking 39 Allied ships and damaging another 7 in just 14 months.

With both UB 50 and Britannia heading home from their respective wars, they chanced upon each other in the Strait of Gibraltar on the morning of 9 November 1918. Kukat managed to get close enough to fire two torpedoes into the Englishman while she was steaming 11 miles NNW of Cape Spartel just to the West of Gibraltar. Stopping dead in the water, a cordite explosion in one of Britannia’s 9.2-inch magazines went up and she was doomed.

HMS Britannia sinking NARA 45511435

Still, under the cool leadership of her skipper, Capt. Francis Wade Caulfeild– formerly the commander of the battleship HMS Venerable and cruisers Fox, Juno, and Royal Arthur— most of her crew (712 of 762) made it off as she sank slowly for nearly three hours. It was just two days before the signing of the Armistice and, other than the Racecourse-class minesweeper HMS Ascot that was sent to the bottom by UB 67 on 11 November, she was the last Royal Navy ship lost to combat in WWI.

Britannia was the eighth largest allied ship sunk by German U-boats during the war, coming in just behind the French battleship Danton (18,300 tons) and the 18,000-ton liners President Lincoln and Laconia.

Epilogue

At least 23 of the men whose bodies were recovered are interred at the Garrison Cemetery in Gibraltar while the others have No Other Grave than the Sea.

HMS Britannia and her lost crewmembers have been memorialized in no less than 42 locations around the UK, led by the Plymouth Naval Memorial that commemorates more than 7,200 Royal Navy personnel and 75 sailors of the Royal Australian Navy who died during the Great War.

Plymouth Naval Memorial

With her remains on the bottom of the Atlantic, the only relics of her in circulation are period postcards. 

Meanwhile, Combrig has a detailed scale model of her. 

Britannia, Combrig

Her last skipper, Caufield, was given command of the Bellerophon class dreadnought HMS Temeraire on 13 February 1919 then shifted to the Retired List in 1920 with the rank of Rear Admiral, capping a 28-year career. It was while on the list that he was increased to Vice Admiral in 1925. He was made a Commander of the Order of the British Empire by order of King George V in the 1936 New Year Honours.

Vice-Admiral Francis Wade Caulfeild, C.B.E passed in 1947, at age 75.

As for UB 50, she made it home to a collapsing Germany and, on 16 January 1919, was surrendered to the Allies. Awarded to Britain as a trophy ship, she was broken up in Swansea in 1922.

UB 50’s final skipper, Oblt. Kukat, who held both the EK1 and EK2 and was a Komtur of the Königlicher Hausorden von Hohenzollern, threw in with the Freikorps crowd in the violent post-war era before the Weimar Republic and, as a company commander with Marine-Brigade von Loewenfeld, was killed in a clash in Bottrop during the Ruhr uprising in 1920, dead at 29. He was the only former U-boat captain killed in Freikorps service and those who served with him during the Great War including famed evangelist Martin Niemöller and some guy named Karl Dönitz spoke highly of him.

Oblt. Heinrich Kukat is listed on the memorial marker of the Loewenfeld Freikorps in Kirchhellen. Other members of the controversial interwar partisan unit included U-boat “ace of aces” Lothar von Arnauld de la Perière and future Abwehr boss, Wilhelm Canaris.

While the name Britannia did not grace another RN warship after 1918, the Royal Naval College at Dartmouth carried the name HMS Britannia as a Naval Shore Establishment after 1906, one that was retained until 1953 when the college simply became HMS Dartmouth and the name Britannia was issued to the newly launched royal yacht HMY Britannia, which in turn remained in service until 1997.

The Royal Yacht Britannia at the 1977 Spithead Fleet Review on the occasion of the Silver Jubilee of the reign of Queen Elisabeth II. In her 43-year career, she sailed over a million miles and visited 600 ports. She is preserved as part of The Royal Yacht Britannia Trust as a pier-side museum in Edinburgh.

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, Nov. 1, 2023: Mad Marcus

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

Warship Wednesday, Nov. 1, 2023: Mad Marcus

Photographer: PHCM/AC Louis P. Bodine Official U.S. Navy Photograph, from the collections of the Naval History and Heritage Command. Catalog #: NH 107602

Above we see a great 1968 image of the Edsall-class destroyer escort-turned-radar picket, USS Vance (DER-387) underway off the coast of Oahu. At this time in the little tin can’s life, she had left her mark on the end of two German U-boats, frozen in polar expeditions, logged three very trying tours off coastal Vietnam, and survived a real-life Lt. Commander Queeg who, no shit, was named for a Roman emperor.

She was brought to life on this day in 1943.

The Edsall class

A total of 85 Edsall-class destroyer escorts were cranked out in four different yards in the heyday of World War II rapid production with class leader USS Edsall (DE-129) laid down 2 July 1942 and last of class USS Holder commissioned 18 January 1944– in all some four score ships built in 19 months. The Arsenal of Democracy at work–building tin cans faster than the U-boats and Kamikazes could send them to Davy Jones.

The U.S. Navy destroyer escort USS Edsall (DE-129) underway near Ambrose Light just outside New York Harbor on 25 February 1945. The photo was taken by a blimp from Squadron ZP-12. Edsall is painted in Camouflage Measure 32, Design 3D. U.S. Navy photo 80-G-306257

These 1,590-ton expendable escorts were based on their predecessors, the very successful Cannon-class boats but used an FMR type (Fairbanks-Morse reduction-geared diesel drive) propulsion suite whereas the only slightly less prolific Cannons used a DET (Diesel Electric Tandem) drive. Apples to oranges.

edsallArmed with enough popguns (3×3″/50s, 2x40mm, 8x20mm) to keep aircraft and small craft at bay, they could plug a torpedo into a passing enemy cruiser from one of their trio of above-deck 21-inch tubes, or maul a submarine with any number of ASW weapons including depth charges and Hedgehogs. Too slow for active fleet operations (21 knots) they were designed for coastal patrol (could float in just 125 inches of seawater), sub-chasing, and convoy escorts.

Meet USS Vance

Our subject is the only U.S. Navy warship to carry the name of Joseph Williams Vance, Jr.. A mustang who volunteered for the Navy Reserve at age 21 in 1940, the young Seman Vance served aboard the old battlewagon USS Arkansas (BB-33) and, as he had university hours at Southwestern and Florida on his jacket, was appointed a midshipman in the rapidly expanding Navy after four months in the fleet. Joining the flush deck tin can USS Parrott (DD-218) in the Philippines on 16 April as an ensign in charge of the destroyer’s torpedo battery. Facing the Japanese onslaught in the Western Pacific, Ensign Vance picked up a Bronze Star at the Battle of Makassar Strait (24 January 1942)– the Navy’s first surface action victory in the Pacific– saw action in the Java sea and the Badoeng Strait, and, by Guadalcanal, had been promoted to lieutenant (junior grade). With the promotion came a transfer– to the ill-fated HMAS Canberra, as liaison officer with the Royal Australian Navy. He was aboard Canberra on that tragic night off Savo Island on 9 August 1942 when the Kent-class heavy cruiser was sent to the depths of “Ironbottom Sound” with 73 other members of her crew.

His body lost to sea at age 23, his family remembered Joe in a cenotaph at Bethlehem Cemetery in Memphis. He is also marked on the Tablet of the Missing at the Manila American Cemetery and Memorial. The paperwork for Makassar Strait caught up to him eventually and his family was presented his bronze star posthumously.

The future Vance (DE-387) was laid down on 30 April 1943 at Houston, Texas by the Brown Shipbuilding Co. and launched just 10 weeks later on 16 July 1943.

She was sponsored by the late Lt. (jg.) Vance’s grieving mother, Elizabeth Sarah “Beth” Harrison Vance, and Joe’s sister, Willie.

A Coast Guard-manned DE, Vance’s pre-commissioning crew was formed in August 1943 at the sub-chaser school in Miami while their ship was under construction on the other side of the Gulf of Mexico. Consisting of 40 officers and men drawn from across the USCG– most had seen war service chasing subs and escorting convoys across the Atlantic. This skilled cadre left Miami after two months of training and headed to Houston in early October, joining 30 newly minted techs and specialists direct from A schools and 130 assorted bluejackets right from basic.

All hands moved aboard USS Vance on 1 November 1943 when she was commissioned at the Tennessee Coal & Iron Docks in Houston, LCDR Eric Alvin Anderson, USCG, in command. As noted by her War History, “The shipyard orchestra played for the commissioning ceremonies and later sandwiches and coffee were served to all hands.”

Following outfitting and shakedown cruises off Bermuda, Vance became the flagship for the all-USCG Escort Division (CortDiv) 45, including the sequentially numbered sisters USS Lansing (DE-388), Durant (DE-389), Calcaterra (DE-390), Chambers (DE-391) and Merrill (DE-392) with Commodore E.J. Roland raising his command pennant aboard on 19 December.

The CNO, ADM Ernest J. King, had, in June 1943, ordered the Coast Guard to staff and operate 30 new (mostly Edsall-class) destroyer escorts on Atlantic ASW duties, trained especially at the Submarine Training Centers at Miami and Norfolk. Each would be crewed by 11 officers and 166 NCOs/enlisted, translating to a need for 5,310 men, all told.

By November 1943, it had been accomplished! Quite a feat.

The USCG-manned DEs would be grouped in five Escort Divisions of a half dozen ships each, 23 of which were Edsalls:

  • Escort Division 20–Marchand, Hurst, Camp, Crow, Pettie, Ricketts.
  • Escort Division 22–Poole, Peterson, Harveson, Joyce, Kirkpatrick, Leopold.
  • Escort Division 23–Sellstrom, Ramsden, Mills, Rhodes, Richey, Savage.
  • Escort Division 45–Vance, Lansing, Durant, Calcaterra, Chambers, Morrill.
  • Escort Division 46–Menges, Mosley, Newell, Pride, Falgout, Lowe.

These ships were soon facing off with the Germans in the Atlantic and Mediterranean.

War!

Celebrating Christmas 1943 at sea “being tossed around like a matchstick,” Vance’s first escort job was to ride shotgun on a group of tankers running from Port Arthur, Texas to Norfolk just after the New Year, then escorting the jeep carrier USS Core (CVE-13) to New York City.

She crossed the Atlantic with her division to escort a large slow (7-10 knots) convoy, UGS.33, to Gibraltar in February then turned around to the return trip with a GUS convoy, returning to the Med with UGS 39 in May, where she would come face to face with the enemy. On 14 May 1944, the Type VIIC sub U-616 (Kplt. Siegfried Koitschka) torpedoed two Allied merchants– the British flagged G.S. Walden (7,127 tons) and Fort Fidler (10,627 tons).

From Vance’s war history:

Eight American destroyers and aircraft from five squadrons hunted U-616 until it was sunk on 17 May, lost with all hands.

1944 Palermo, Sicily – USS Vance (DE 387) via navsource

Following her battle with U-616, Vance would recycle and cross the Atlantic again with UGS.46 in June, UGS.53 in September, UGS.66 in January 1945, UGS.78 in March 1945, and UGS.90 in May 1945. The latter dispersed on 18 May as it wasn’t considered needed after the German surrender.

It was on this last convoy that the advanced Type IXD2 Schnorchel-fitted submarine, U-873 (Kptlt. Friedrich Steinhoff), was sighted on the surface at 0230 on 11 May off the Azores by Vance and her sister, Durant. Finding Steinhoff’s crew, illuminated by 24-inch searchlights and with every gun on two destroyers trained on them, ready to surrender and the boat making no offensive actions, Vance put a whaleboat with the ship’s XO, Lt. Carlton J. Schmidt, USCGR; Ensign Vance K. Randle, USCG; and 19 enlisted aboard to take U-873 as prize. They found seven Kriegsmarine officers and 52 enlisted, about half of whom had come from the gesunken U-604.

By 0410, a spare U.S. ensign was hoisted aboard the German boat, and Vance, departing the convoy with her prize, made for Bermuda, then was directed to Casco Bay to bring the sub to Portsmouth, New Hampshire, arriving there on the 17th.

U-873 is under her own power, manned by 2 officers and 19 crewmembers of USS Vance DE 387. Notably, U-873 carried a rare twin 3.7 cm Flakzwilling M43U on the DLM42 mount, seen stern. Photo courtesy of Joe Haberkern, son of Joseph W. Haberkern, Jr., MoMM2/C, Plankowner

Captain Friedrich Steinhoff (wearing white cap) and Officers and Crew of Surrendered German U-873 on Deck of Tug, Portsmouth, New Hampshire, May 17, 1945. Note the Marine to the right with a Reising SMG at the ready. NARA photo

Steinhoff under heavy Marine guard

Crewmembers of USS Vance DE 387. Showing items from their captured German U-boat, U-873. Photo courtesy of Joe Haberkern, son of Joseph W. Haberkern, Jr., MoMM2/C, Plankowner

Sadly, as detailed by U-boat.net, even though VE-Day was well past, post-war POW life would not be kind to U-873‘s crew.

Steinhoff and his men were taken, not to POW camp, but to Charles Street Jail, a Boston city jail where they were locked up with common criminals while awaiting disposition to a POW camp. There are many accounts of mistreatment of the U-boat men while they were held there.

After suffering harsh interrogation, Steinhoff- [brother of rocket scientist and future U.S> Army rocketry bright bulb Ernst Steinhoff] committed suicide on the morning of 19 May 1945, opening his arteries using broken glass from his sunglasses. U-873‘s doctor, Dr. Karl Steinke, attempted to give first aid but was too late.

Steinhoff was buried in the military cemetery at Fort Devens, age 35, while the rest of his crew were sent to warm their skin in a Mississippi POW camp until repatriated.

As for U-873, she was placed in dry dock for a design study of her type by Portsmouth Naval Shipyard engineers and then later transferred to the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard for tests. After trials, the U-boat was scrapped in 1948, her lessons being rolled into the Navy’s GUPPY program.

For Vance, her war in the Atlantic and Med was over.

She put into Boston Naval Yard for additional AAA guns and departed on 2 July 1945 bound for the Pacific. Crossing through “The Ditch” and putting into San Diego then Pearl Harbor, she was there with orders to sail for the 5th Fleet in Philippine waters when news of the Japanese surrender overtook her.

Ordered to the Green Cove Springs, Florida reserve fleet, she was decommissioned on 27 February 1946. Her Coast Guard crew returned to their home service, with most being demobilized. Her skipper for five of her eight convoy runs and the capture of U-873, LCDR Frank Vincent Helmer, USCG (USCGA ’35), would go on to retire as a rear admiral during the 1960s.

The Edsall class, 1946 Janes.

Break out the White Paint

With the dramatic surge in air and maritime traffic across some downright vacant stretches of the Pacific that came with the Korean War, the USCG was again tapped to man a growing series of Ocean Stations. Two had been formed after WWII and the Navy added another three in 1950, bringing the total to five.

These stations would serve both a meteorological purpose– with U.S. Weather Bureau personnel embarked– as well as serve as floating checkpoints for military and commercial maritime and air traffic and communication “relay” stations for aircraft on transoceanic flights crisscrossing the Pacific. Further, they provided an emergency ditch option for aircraft (a concept that had already been proved by the Bermuda Sky Queen rescue in 1947, which saw all 69 passengers and crew rescued by the cutter Bibb.)

As detailed by Scott Price in The Forgotten Service in the Forgotten War, these stations were no picnic, with the average cutter logging 4,000 miles and as many as 320 radar fixes while serving upwards of 700 hours on station.

Ocean station duty could be monotonous at one moment and terrifying the next, as the vessels rode out storms that made the saltiest sailors green. One crew member noted: “After twenty-one days of being slammed around by rough cold sea swells 20 to 50 feet high, and wild winds hitting gale force at times, within an ocean grid the size of a postage stamp, you can stand any kind of duty.”

A typical tour was composed of arriving at Midway Island for three weeks on SAR standby, three weeks on Ocean Station Victor midway between Japan and the Aleutian Islands, three weeks on SAR standby at Guam, two weeks “R and R” in Japan, three weeks on Ocean Station Sugar, three weeks on SAR standby Adak, Alaska, and then back to home port.

To stand post on these new ocean stations and backfill for other cutters detailed to the role, the Navy lent the USCG 12 mothballed Edsalls (Newell, Falgout, Lowe, Finch, Koiner, Foster, Ramsden, Rickey, Vance, Lansing,  Durant, and Chambers), nine of which the service had originally operated during WWII.

To man these extra vessels and fill other wartime roles such as establishing new LORAN stations and pulling port security, the USCG almost doubled in size from just over 18,000 to 35,082 in 1952.

The conversion to Coast Guard service included a white paint scheme, an aft weather balloon shelter (they would have to launch three balloons a day in all sea states), and the fitting of a 31-foot self-bailing motor surfboat for rescues in heavy weather. The USCG designator “W” was added to the hull number, as was the number 100.

This brings us to Vance, some seven years in Florida mothballs, being recommissioned as the white-painted USCGC Vance (WDE-487) on 9 May 1952. She was stationed at Honolulu, and, assigned to the Commander Philippine Section, served on Ocean Station Queen there from 2-23 August 1953, and again on 4-24 October 1953.

Coast Guard Cutter Vance WDE 487 working with a Sangley Point USCG-operated PBM-5G, one of two PBM-5Gs and a JRF that were assigned to augment the PBY-5As there in 1951-53. Importantly, one of the Sangley Point PBMs went to attempt the rescue of a VP-22 P2V-5 Neptune (BuNo 127744) crew shot down in the Formosa Strait while the aircraft was on a covert patrol along the Communist Chinese coast near Swatow. USCG photo 211103-G-G0000-002

Vance was decommissioned for a second time on 3 April 1954 and returned to the Navy.

DER

The DER program filled an early gap in the continental air defense system by placing a string of ships as sea-based radar platforms to provide a distant early warning line to possible attack from the Soviets. The Pacific had up to 11 picket stations while the Atlantic had as many as nine. A dozen DEs became DERs through the addition of SPS-6 and SPS-8 air search radars to help man these DEW lines as the Atlantic Barrier became fully operational in 1956 and the Pacific Barrier (which Vance took part in) by 1958.

To make room for the extra topside weight of the big radars, they gave up most of their WWII armament, keeping only their Hedgehog ASW device and two Mark 34 3-inch guns that would eventually be fitted with aluminum and fiberglass weather shields.

DER conversion of Edsall (FMR) class ships reproduced from Peter Elliot’s American Destroyer Escorts of WWII

Detail of masts. Note the WWII AAA suite, one of the 3″ guns, and centerline 21-inch tubes have been landed

Vance was towed to the Mare Island Naval Shipyard in November 1955 for conversion to a radar picket destroyer escort. Designated DER-378 as a result, she recommissioned for a second time on 5 October 1956, a 12-year-old Navy escort with its first Navy skipper, CDR Albert Martin Brouner (USNA ‘44).

USS Vance (DER-387) underway in San Francisco Bay, California (USA), on 1 November 1956. Note her 3-inch guns are open, which would change in the 1960s when they would get distinctive weather shields. Photo via Navsource

As detailed by DANFS:

Between March of 1957 and the end of the year, Vance was homeported at Seattle, Wash., as a unit of CortDiv 5 and completed eight patrols on various stations of the Radar Early Warning System in the northern Pacific. Each tour lasted approximately 17 days, and the ship maintained a round-the-clock vigil with air-search radars, tracking and reporting every aircraft entering or approaching the air space of the northwestern United States.

This continued into 1958 when she shifted homeports to Pearl Harbor; and she began operating with CortRon 7, the first ship working the DEW line in the newly organized Pacific barrier patrol. This would continue through early 1965, with a segway to join TF43 for Deepfreeze ’62, serving as the relay ship for aircraft bringing supplies to the Antarctic stations from Dunedin, New Zealand between August 1961 and March 1962. In this duty, she was called “The Loneliest Ship in the Navy.”

Then came Vietnam.

Market Time

With the DEW line service fading as far as the Navy was concerned at the same time the Navy established Operation Market Time (March 1965-1972) to prevent North Vietnamese ships from supplying enemy forces in South Vietnam, recycling the fleet’s increasingly idle shallow-draft DERs into what would be today called a littoral combat ship was an easy choice.

Vance would complete four WestPac cruises (March-Sept 1965, Jan.-August 1966, Dec. 1966- August 1967, Jan-Aug. 1968) with the 7th Fleet, detached to TF 115 for use in brown water. Of note, she was the first DER to take a Market Time station, reporting for duty to CTU 71.1.1 on 1 April 1965, and soon after was the first U.S. Navy ship to take aboard a Vietnamese Navy Liaison Officer while underway.

USS VANCE South China Sea 1966. Note the weather shields on her 3-inch mount

For example, during this time Task Force 115 consisted of an LST mothership, 70 Navy PCFs, 26 Coast Guard 82-foot patrol boats (WPBs), with the support of the “big boys” in the form of eight DERs (including Vance), and 16 smaller minesweepers (six MSCs, and 10 MSOs).

USS Vance (DER-387) – November 1967. Note her Hedgehog device uncovered and ready to rock 

A typical breakdown of how one of these deployments would run can be had from Vance’s 220-day 1967 stint which included 62 days on Market Time operations in the Vietnam littoral, 24 days on the tense Taiwan Patrol, and 15 days in Hong Kong as SOPA Admin station ship. To illustrate just how busy a Market Time rotation could be, in her short 1965 deployment which included just 92 days under TF 115, Vance had 1,538 radar contacts, sighted visually 1,001, and investigated 185 vessels.

USS Vance (DER-387) underway at sea on 26 November 1967 NHHC

Among the more notable incidents while on Market Time was saving Capt. Leland D. Holcomb, USAF, who had ejected from a burning F-100 Super Sabre in 1965 while on a ferry mission from Danang to Clark AFB in the PI. Her 1966, 1967, and 1968 reports are on file in the NHHC and make interesting and sometimes entertaining reading.

Vance as radar picket 1960s with her glad rags flying. Note by this time the large EW “pod” on her aft mast.

Oh yeah, something else happened while off Vietnam as well.

The Arnheiter Affair

LCDR Marcus Aurelius Arnheiter entered West Point in 1946 but subsequently resigned, later obtaining an appointment to Annapolis where he passed out as 628th of 783 mids in 1952 and then saw Korean War service on the battleship USS Iowa (BB-61). He later saw much service on destroyers (USS Ingersoll– where he served as XO– Fiske, Coolbaugh, Abbot, and Worden), held a series of staff appointments in the Pentagon where he authored a novel (Shadow of Pearl) under a pseudonym before arriving on Vance’s quarterdeck as her 14th (7th Navy) skipper on 22 December 1965.

Just 99 days later, he was relieved of his first, and last, seagoing command.

The scandal over just what happened in those 99 days aboard Vance is lengthy, including a book by NYT writer Neil Sheehan that was the subject of a libel suit filed by Arnheiter. Suffice it to say, there are avenues to dig deeper if you are curious but among the (many) oddities seen on Vance during Arnheiter’s command was the purchase (through MWR funds!) of a 16-foot fiberglass speedboat that was armed with a .30 caliber M1919 machine gun and painted with a shark’s mouth.

The speedboat was supposed to be for interdiction and patrol work but ended up getting Vance’s crew into problems time after time.

Other oddities included the skipper’s insistence to blare the Hellcat Reveille over the 1MC while in port rather than a simple bosun call for reveille, follow gun line destroyers into no-go areas while they were performing NGFS ashore to the point that said destroyer’s skipper directed the radio traffic be recorded and incident logged, establishing a “boner box” in the wardroom with mandatory levies of 25-cents per perceived infraction, requiring non-religious personnel to attend services, cruising danger close to shore (like within small arms range) while only one engine was working, doubling the small arms locker from 15 authorized M1 Garands to 30 without permission then holding wild live-fire drills in congested waters (to include reportedly keeping a rifle on the bridge wing that the skipper would use to zip off rounds at random “sea snakes” while VBSS crews were away checking a sampan.)

Following a six-day non-judicial inquiry at Subic, Arnheiter was removed from his command quietly but not reprimanded or court-martialed, even though he repeatedly requested the latter to clear his name, even lobbying Congress. He ended up retiring from the service in 1971, still as an LCDR, and passed in 2009, aged 83. Sheehan died in 2021, likely closing the matter although both continue to be the subject of much conversation.

As for USS Vance, her usefulness ended following extensive Vietnam service, she was decommissioned on 10 October 1969.

Her fellow DERs shared a similar fate, either laid up in mothballs or transferred to overseas allies.

1973 Janes on the Edsall class DERs.

Stricken on June 1, 1975, Vance was used as a target for several years off the California coast until finally sent to the bottom in deep water in a 1985 SINKEX.

Vance in August 1983 when being used as a target ship off San Francisco. The sign amidships reads “Target Ship – Stand Clear.” Photo from Ozzie Henry who acquired them from a sailor at a DESA Convention. Via the USS Vance veterans’ group.

Vance received seven battle stars for USN service in Vietnam in addition to her USCG service in WWII and Korea.

Epilogue

Vance’s war history, plans, and diaries are in the National Archives.

Vance’s memories are carried forward by a well-organized veterans’ group and they last had a reunion last October in Georgia.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’m a member, so should you be!

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Clevelands

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

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

The Cleveland class, via ONI 54R, 1943

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

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

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

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

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

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

Meet USS Biloxi

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

War!

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

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

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

Check out these tracks while delivering fire over two days. 

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

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

Poor guy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The lesson learned was dramatic.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then came Operation Iceberg, the landings on Okinawa.

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

It was a wild event: 

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

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

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

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

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

A rundown of her directed bombardments in Okinawa:

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

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

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

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

Her targets were varied: 

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

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

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

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

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

She earned nine battle stars for her wartime service:

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

Epilogue

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Via NMCB 121’s 1967-68 cruise book.

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

(Photo: Chris Eger)

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

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

(Photo: Chris Eger)

(Photo: Chris Eger)

(Photo: Chris Eger)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am a member, so should you be!

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

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

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

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

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

The Marina do Portugal in the Great War

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

What they had on hand was a bit different.

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

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

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

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

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

This sets the stage for our story.

Meet Augusto de Castilho

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

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

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

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

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

War!

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

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

ADM Augusto de Castilho (1841-1912)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Epilogue

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

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

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

Mural in the Museu de Marinha

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

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

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

Mural in the Museu de Marinha

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

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

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

The statue of Carvalho Araújo has its hands clenched defiantly.

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

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

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

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Warship Wednesday, Oct. 11, 2023: Sink Em All

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

Warship Wednesday, Oct. 11, 2023: Sink Em All

Official U.S. Navy Photograph, now in the collections of the National Archives. Catalog #: 80-G-35726

Above we see the Gato-class fleet boat USS Wahoo (SS-238) at Pearl Harbor, soon after the end of her Third war patrol, circa 7 February 1943. Her skipper, LCDR Dudley W. Morton, who would count four Navy Crosses in the war, is on the open bridge, in right-center while the officer to the left could be XO, LT Richard H. O’Kane, who would go on to earn the MoH.

If you will observe, there is a broom lashed to the periscope head, indicating a “clean sweep” of enemy targets encountered as well as an aloft pennant bearing the slogan “Shoot the Sunza Bitches” and eight small flags, representing claimed sinkings of two Japanese warships and six merchant vessels. What is not in the picture is the forward radar mast, which has been brushed out by wartime censors.

Just six months after this image was snapped, Wahoo would be broken on the bottom of the La Pérouse Strait, lost exactly 80 years ago today.

The Gatos

The 77 Gatos were cranked out by four shipyards from 1940 to 1944 for the U.S. Navy, they were impressive 311-foot-long fleet boats, diesel-electric submarines capable of extended operations in the far reaches of the Pacific. Able to swim an impressive 11,000 nautical miles on their economical power plant while still having room for 24 (often cranky) torpedoes. A 3-inch deck gun served for surface action in poking holes in vessels deemed not worth a torpedo while a few .50 and .30-cal machine guns provided the illusion of an anti-aircraft armament.

Developed from the Tambor-class submarines, they were the first fleet boats able to plumb to 300 feet test depth, then the deepest that U.S. Navy submersibles were rated.

Meet Wahoo

Our subject is the first U.S. Navy warship– and probably the first in any fleet– named for the wahoo, a beautiful (and delicious) sport fish in the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean, known for putting up a fight.

Laid down a half-year prior to Pearl Harbor on 28 June 1941 by the Mare Island Navy Yard in Vallejo, California, Wahoo was launched on Valentine’s Day 1942– a sweetheart gift to the Japanese Navy.

She was commissioned on 15 May 1942, LCDR Marvin Granville Kennedy (USNA 1930) in command.

Kennedy, who had served in a mix of both surface warfare and submarine billets, was XO of the huge “V-boat” USS Narwhal (SS-167) at the beginning of the war, aboard her when her gunners opened up at incoming Japanese planes over Pearl Harbor. Wahoo was his first command, and he would be at her attack periscope for her first two patrols.

The new boat and green crew spent the next three months fitting out and conducting initial training along the California coast then, after a post-shakedown repair at Mare Island, left headed for Hawaii on 12 August.

Wahoo off Mare Island Navy Yard, California, 10 August 1942. Note the barrage balloons over the yard and the City of Vallejo. 19-N-33836

USS Wahoo (SS-238) At the Mare Island Navy Yard, California, 10 August 1942. Circles and associated text mark recent alterations to the submarine. The lighter YF-239 is alongside the submarines in the right background. Note the antenna for an SJ radar mounted on the light mast in front of Wahoo’s periscope shears. 19-N-33839

USS Wahoo (SS-238) View from astern, taken off the Mare Island Navy Yard, California, 10 August 1942. 19-N-33837

War!

First War Patrol (23 Aug 1942, Pearl Harbor-17 Oct 1942, Pearl Harbor)

Her patrolling career began in August 1942 in the Carolines. On this patrol, Wahoo claimed the sinking of a freighter not confirmed by post-war review. Other attacks were spoiled by faulty torpedoes, a common refrain in the U.S. Submarine Force in the Pacific at this time.

Second War Patrol (8 Nov 1942, Pearl Harbor- 26 Dec 1942, Brisbane)

Her second patrol was in the Solomons, where she sank a freighter, the Japanese collier Kamoi Maru (5355 GRT) off Buin, on 10 December. Following this patrol, Kennedy, who earned a Silver Star for sinking the enemy collier, left the boat and joined the staff of Commander Service Force, Southwest Pacific.

Replacing the 37-year-old Kennedy was an old classmate of his from Annapolis, Florida-born LCDR Dudley Walker Morton, better known by his Academy nickname of “Mushmouth” or, just the simpler “Mush.” Morton had previously commanded the smaller boats USS R-5 (SS-82) and USS Dolphin (SS-169), then sailed as XO under Kennedy on Wahoo’s Second War Patrol. The new XO would be LT Richard Hetherington “Dick” O’Kane (USNA 1934)

It seemed like, in Wahoo’s case, that the third time was the charm when it came to patrols.

Third War Patrol (16 Jan 1943, Brisbane-7 Feb 1943, Pearl Harbor)

Wahoo conducted her third patrol from Australia through New Guinea to the Palau area of the Japanese-annexed Caroline Islands. She steamed 6,454 miles and expanded all her torpedoes.

Prior to leaving Australia, Morton reportedly told the crew:

“Wahoo is expendable. We will take every reasonable precaution, but our mission is to sink enemy shipping. . . . Now, if anyone doesn’t want to go along under these conditions, just see the yeoman. I am giving him verbal authority now to transfer anyone who is not a volunteer. . . . Nothing will ever be said about you remaining in Brisbane.”

Periscope photograph, taken by USS Wahoo (SS-238) on 27 January 1943. The view shows a refinery and large warehouse adjacent to a phosphate works on Fais Island (near Ulithi Atoll, Caroline Islands). Wahoo had intended to shell the latter, but had to break off when an enemy ship came on the scene. Official U.S. Navy photograph now in the collections of the National Archives, 80-G-39745.

She sank the destroyer Harusame on 24 January off Wewak, New Guinea.

Harusame’s back is clearly broken. Wartime intelligence evaluated this photo as showing one of the Asashio-class (see Photographic Intelligence Report # 82, 17 March 1943). However, the ship’s bridge structure identifies her as a Shiratsuyu-class destroyer, with the # 2 (single) 5 gun mount removed. Official U.S. Navy photo 80-G-35738 from the U.S. Navy Naval History and Heritage Command

Two days later chased down a four-ship convoy included sinking the large Japanese army cargo ships Buyo Maru (5447 GRT) and Fukuei Maru No.2 (1901 GRT) along with damaging the tanker Pacific Maru (5872 GRT).

Periscope photograph, showing Japanese transport Buyo Maru sinking after she was torpedoed by USS Wahoo (SS-238) north of western New Guinea on 26 January 1943. Official U.S. Navy photograph now in the collections of the National Archives, 80-G-39746.

The scene in the control room during Wahoo’s 27 January 1943 action with a Japanese destroyer. When the photo was taken the submarine was at 300 feet, rigged for depth charges. Six charges had just gone off and the crew was awaiting more. Lieutenant Commander Dudley W. Morton, Wahoo’s Commanding Officer, reported this action as “Another running gun fight … destroyer gunning … Wahoo running. Shaved head on crewman at right is a product of an Equator crossing ceremony three days previously.” 80-G-38602

Two views of the same action. LT Richard H. O’Kane, XO, at the periscope, and LCDR Dudley W. Morton, skipper, with another officer, in Wahoo’s conning tower during the boat’s attack on a Japanese convoy north of New Guinea, 26 January 1943. Several ships, among them the transport Buyo Maru, were sunk in this action. 80-G-37034 &80-G-37033

USS Wahoo (SS-238) Provides food and water to the crew of a becalmed fishing boat, circa January 1943. The original caption, released with this photograph on 3 March 1943, reads: “Act of Mercy While on the war patrol during which she sank a Japanese destroyer and a convoy of four ships, the submarine Wahoo, commanded by LCdr. Dudley W. Morton, USN, of Miami, Fla., came across a small fishing boat, becalmed. Three of the crew of nine aboard the fishing vessel had died when the submarine found her. Three remaining crew members were without food and water. This picture shows members of the submarine’s crew handing water and food to the men in the fishing vessel. A few days later the Wahoo destroyed the Japanese destroyer and convoy. View looks forward from Wahoo’s machinegun platform.” NH 42275

USS Wahoo (SS-238) arrives at Pearl Harbor at the end of her third war patrol, circa 7 February 1943. The original caption, released with this photograph on 3 March 1943, reads: “Hero’s Welcome A Navy band is on hand to greet the submarine Wahoo on her return to Pearl Harbor following a patrol during which she sank a Japanese destroyer and an entire enemy convoy of four ships. The battle with the convoy lasted for a period of 14 hours. Note that Wahoo’s radar antennas have been crudely censored out of the image.” NH 42274

Lieutenant Commander Dudley W. Morton, commanding officer of USS Wahoo (SS-238), at right, with his executive officer, Lieutenant Richard H. O’Kane, on the submarines open bridge, at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, after her very successful third war patrol, circa 7 February 1943. Official U.S. Navy photograph now in the collections of the National Archives, 80-G-35725.

Fourth War Patrol (23 Feb 1943, Pearl Harbor- 6 Apr 1943, Midway)

For her fourth patrol, Wahoo went to the Yellow Sea west of Korea and just ran amok, only returning after she expended all 24 of her torpedoes.

She sank the cargo ship Zogen Maru (1428 GRT) and damaged the freighter Kowa Maru (3217 GRT) east of Dairen on 19 March, sank the cargo ships Hozan Maru (2260 GRT) and Nittsu Maru (2183 GRT) on 21 March, on 23 March sent the cargo ships Teisho Maru (9849 GRT) and Takaosan Maru (2076 GRT) via torpedoes then finished up with the smaller Satsuki Maru (830 GRT) via gunfire.

Nittsu Maru (Japanese cargo ship) sinking in the Yellow Sea, off China on 23 March 1943. Periscope photograph taken from USS Wahoo (SS-238), which had torpedoed the ship. Official U.S. Navy photograph now in the collections of the National Archives, 80-G-60948.

She finished her run with the cable ship Yamabato Maru (2256 GRT) south of Kyushu, Japan, and two sampans.

Her claimed kills were a bit higher.

Fifth War Patrol (25 Apr 1943, Midway-21 May 1943, Pearl Harbor)

Going to the Kurile chain for her fifth patrol, Wahoo sank two confirmed freighters– Takao Maru (3204 GRT) and Jimmu Maru (1912 GRT) — off Kone Zaki, north-eastern Honshu on 9 May. She ended, again, with no torpedoes left, having steamed 6,828 nm.

Her 5th war patrol claims:

Following the end of the patrol, she was sent back to Mare Island for a much-needed overhaul, carrying almost 30,000 miles on her diesels and the effects of multiple depth charging runs from the Empire.

A series of photographs from the Bureau of Ships Collection in the U.S. National Archives remains to document her condition at this stage of her hard life.

USS Wahoo (SS-238) Off the Mare Island Navy Yard, California, 14 July 1943. 19-N-48937

USS Wahoo (SS-238) At the Mare Island Navy Yard, California

USS Wahoo (SS-238) At the Mare Island Navy Yard, California, 16 July 1943. Circles mark recent alterations to the submarine. The lighter YC-312 is alongside. YF-239 and YF-200 are in the left-center distance. 19-N-48941

USS Wahoo (SS-238) At the Mare Island Navy Yard, California, 16 July 1943. White outlines mark recent alterations to the submarine. The lighter YC-312 is alongside. 19-N-48942

Sixth War Patrol (2 Aug 1943, Pearl Harbor-29 Aug 1943, Pearl Harbor)

The sixth patrol of Wahoo, conducted in the target-rich Japan Sea, suffered from defective Mark 14 steam torpedoes. None of the 10 fish fired in nine attacks on enemy merchantmen resulted in a torpedo hit but she was able to sink a trio of sampans with surface gunfire.

The patrol reports of the failed attacks are crushing:

She made good in surface actions against fishing boats– at least her guns worked!

Across her first six patrols, she claimed 27 ships sunk, totaling 119,100 tons, and damaged two more, making 24,900 tons. Of these, most were on Mush Morton’s three patrols, in which Wahoo had sunk a claimed total of 93,281 tons of shipping in only 25 patrol days.

Leaving the boat was her talented XO, Dick O’Kane, who was called up to the big leagues and rewarded with a command of his own, the Balao-class boat USS Tang (SS-306).

Seventh (Last) War Patrol (9 Sep 1943, Pearl Harbor-lost on/about 11 October 1943, in La Perouse Strait)

Sent back to the Sea of Japan– armed with the new Mark 18 electric torpedo, instead of the hated Mark 14s– Wahoo was the only Allied warship active there when the fishing vessel Hokusei Maru (1394 GRT) was lost west of the Kuril Islands on 21 September, the gunboat Taiko Maru (2958 GRT) west of the Tsugaru Strait on 25 September, the freighter Masaki Maru No.2 (1238 GRT) in the Sea of Japan east of Hungnam on 29 September, the transport Konron Maru (7908 GRT) in Tsushima Straits on 5 October, the cargo ship Kanko Maru (1283 GRT) off Korea on 6 October, and the cargo ship Hankow Maru (2995 GRT) off the Oga Peninsula on 9 October. Good hunting!

However, the hunter became the hunted, and Wahoo never made it back to Pearl, with her war flags flying and crew beaming. Postwar, it was determined that Japanese E13A1 “Jake” floatplanes out of Wakkanai, supporting the submarine chasers Ch-15 and Ch-43, and minesweeper Wa-18, following up on the sighting of a strange submarine by the coast artillery battery on Soya Misaki, responded and chased Wahoo to the bottom of the in La Perouse Strait on the morning of 11 October 1943.

The wreck, found in 2004 resting 12 miles off the northeast coast of Hokkaido in the middle of the strait, confirms the place and cause of her destruction.

She was lost with all 80 hands. Declared officially dead in 1946, all are memorialized at the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific (Punchbowl) on the Court of the Missing.

“Going Home,” watercolor on paper by Georges Schreiber, 1943; accession # 88-159-JN as a gift of Abbott Laboratories.

Wahoo earned six battle stars for World War II service.

Wahoo is one of 64 American subs (52 from WWII alone) still listed as being on “Eternal Patrol,” remembered in markers across the country. Of note, Gato-class sisters USS Corvina (SS-226) and USS Dorado (SS-248) were both lost within days of Wahoo, with all hands. (Photo: Chris Eger)

For a deeper dive into USS Wahoo, please see Warfish.com.

In all, “Mush” Morton would be awarded four Navy Crosses, the final one posthumously.

Commander Dudley Walker Morton USN (USNA 1930) is remembered with a memorial stone at Arlington National Cemetery, Arlington Virginia, Memorial Section MH, Plot 669.

Epilogue

The fighting spirit of Mush Morton and the Mighty Wahoo would endure long after they were gone.

A billboard at Mare Island in late 1943, highlighting the exploits of the Yard’s famed sub, albeit in a PG-rated format. 80-G-K-15091

Wahoo’s plans, deck logs, and patrol reports (1-6) are digitized in the National Archives. 

Wahoo’s ship’s bell and commissioning pennant, which had been stored at Pearl Harbor while she was on her wartime service, are preserved at the USS Bowfin Submarine Museum & Park along with a marker honoring her.

In 1995, the Wahoo Peace Memorial cenotaph was dedicated in Japan at Cape Soya near Wakkanai overlooking the La Perouse Strait where the submarine was lost.

The Forrest Sherman-class destroyer USS Morton (DD-948) was named in honor of Wahoo’s most famous skipper. Built at Ingalls and nicknamed “The Saltiest Ship in the Fleet!” due to the obvious Morton’s Salt reference, she served until 1982, chalking up several stints off Vietnam including close-in NGF support and Sea Dragon operations off North Vietnam.

Dick O’Kane, who according to the NHHC took part in more successful submarine attacks than any other American officer across five patrols with Wahoo and five more in command of Tang, earned the Medal of Honor, three Navy Crosses, three Silver Stars, and the Legion of Merit with Combat “V.” After Tang suffered a sinking via a runaway torpedo in the Formosa Sea, O’Kane and four of his surviving crewmen were “rescued” by the Japanese. After surviving the war at just 88 pounds and testifying as a witness at the Japanese War Crime trials, he returned to duty, retiring in 1957 as a rear admiral after having punched tickets as COMSUBDIV 32 and as the Officer in Charge of the Sub School at New London.

RADM Dick O’Kane passed in 1994 and both he and his wife are buried at Arlington National Cemetery and is on the list of Top Ten U.S. Navy Submarine Captains in World War II by the total number and tonnage of confirmed ships sunk during the conflict, just ahead of Morton.

O’Kane’s legacy lives on. The USS O’Kane (DDG-77), a Navy destroyer, was commissioned in Pearl Harbor in 1999 and continues to serve based out of San Diego.

USS O’Kane (DDG 77) ‘s “Battle Cat” war flag is a Rising Sun flag trampled by the “kills” O’Kane chalked up in his career. Meanwhile, her ship’s crest includes dolphins, the MoH, and four Navy crosses

The former rear admiral’s Medal of Honor is kept at the USS Bowfin Submarine Museum and Park in Honolulu.

Further, his cribbage board, which he presented to the second Tang (SS 563) in 1957, is handed down to each oldest fast-attack submarine in the Pacific Fleet. Since that boat retired, it has been handed down to USS Kamehameha (SSBN 642), USS Parche (SSN 683), USS Los Angeles (SSN 688), USS Bremerton (SSN 698), USS Olympia (SSN 717) and now USS Chicago (SSN 721).

191022-N-KB401-0021 JOINT BASE PEARL HARBOR-HICKAM Oct. 22, 2019 — Cmdr. Benjamin J. Selph, commanding officer, USS Olympia (SSN 717), plays a game of cribbage on the O’Kane board against Cmdr. Chance Litton, commanding officer, USS Chicago (SSN 721).

Wahoo’s legacy lived on as well. Two different Tench class submarines (SS-516 and then SS-518) were to have carried the name but never made it into service. A Tang-class boat, SS-565, did, however, in 1952. She served until 1980, one of the final diesel boats on active duty with the U.S. Navy.

USS Wahoo (SS-565) underway in the Pacific, 24 July 1978. USN 1174147

The famed original Wahoo’s battle flag and fairweather featured a Native American with a war bonnet with feathers for each Japanese ship the boat had sunk. The second Wahoo continued the tradition via the Al Capp character “Lonesome Polecat,” armed with a torpedo-tipped arrow.

A planned Block 5 Virginia-class submarine, SSN-806, will be the third USS Wahoo commissioned. Likewise, her sister SSN-805 will be the third USS Tang.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’m a member, so should you be!

Warship Wednesday, Oct. 4, 2023: Shipping Green

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

Warship Wednesday, Oct. 4, 2023: Shipping Green

Photo by Gilbert Milne, Government of Nova Scotia Virtual Archives H.F. Pullen NSARM accession no. 1984-573 Box 2 F/34

Above we see one of the 67 hardy River class frigates used by the Royal Canadian Navy, HMCS Swansea (K328), shipping green in January 1944 while off Bermuda. As acknowledged by Jane’s in 1946 about the class, following hard wartime service: “These ships have shown very good endurance and sea-keeping qualities.”

While the crew of Swansea— commissioned 80 years ago today– may have had something to say about that, the tough environment of the North Atlantic wasn’t enough to slow their business of slaying U-boats– and business was good.

The Rivers

While today the Royal Canadian Navy is often seen as a supporting actor in the North Atlantic and an occasional cameo performer elsewhere, by the end of World War II the RCN had grown from having about a dozen small tin cans to being the third-largest fleet in the world— and was comprised almost totally of destroyers, frigates, corvettes, and sloops! The force traded 24 of its warships in combat for a butcher’s bill that was balanced by 69 Axis vessels but had proved decisive in the Battle of the Atlantic.

One of the most important of the above Canadian ships was the River-class frigates. Originally some 1,800 tons and 301 feet in length, they could make 20-knots and carry a twin QF 4-inch gun in a single forward mount as well as a modicum of 20mm AAA guns and a wide array of sub-busting weaponry to include as many as 150 depth charges.

In addition to her twin 4″/45 forward, Rivers also carried six 20mm Oerlikons in two twin mounts — one seen here in a LAC Kodachrome of HMCS Thetford Mines– and two singles. Note the wavy lines on the Canadian lieutenant’s sleeve, denoting his status as a reserve officer. The running joke in Commonwealth Navies that used the practice was so that, when asked by an active officer why the braid was wavy, the reservist would answer, “Oh good heavens, so no one would mistake that this is my real job.”

Produced in five mildly different sub-classes, some 50 of the 150ish Rivers planned were to be made in Canada with others produced for the RCN in the UK. This resulted in a shipbuilding boom in the Land of the Great White North, with these frigates produced at four yards: Canadian Vickers in Montreal, Morton in Quebec City, Yarrow at Esquimalt, and Davie at Lauzon.

River-class frigates fitting out at Vickers Canada, 1944

Canadian River-class frigate HMCS Waskesiu (K330) with a bone in her mouth, 1944. Kodachrome via LAC

Meet Swansea

Ordered in October 1941 from Yarrows Ltd., Esquimalt, our little frigate remains the only vessel ever named for the Lake Ontario-facing Swansea neighborhood of Toronto, which until 1953 was an independent village. Yard No. 83 was laid down on 15 July 1942, launched almost exactly five months later, and commissioned on 4 October 1943.

Her skipper had already accounted for German U-boats a few times before.

Fifty-seven-year-old A/CDR Clarence Aubrey King, RCNR, DSC, DSO, had served in the British merchant service then switched to the Royal Naval Reserve in the Great War where he served in “Q-ships” and commanded one of those dreaded U-boat killers for the last 15 months of hostilities. During this time, he was credited with “one sure kill and two probables,” earning the Distinguished Service Cross in June 1917. Rejoining the colors with the RCN when WWII started, he commanded the corvette HMCS Oakville (K 178) in her battle with U-94 in August 1942 which ended with the latter’s destruction. This earned him the DSO.

Shipping out from Victoria, B.C., where Swansea was brought into service, her crew did their shakedown cruise to Halifax via the Panama Canal, arriving six weeks later on 16 November.

War!

Swansea clocked in for the Battle of the Atlantic right away. Her first convoy was SC 154 from Halifax to Liverpool in February-March 1944 and, briefly, the West-bound HX 281.

From there, she was detached to join Escort Group 9 at Londonderry, Northern Ireland. EG9 was all-Canadian, including the frigates HMCS Matane, Meon, Port Colborne, St. John, and Stormont in addition to Swansea.

Her first “kill” was a Type IXC/40 German submarine, U-845 (KrvKpt. Werner Weber) on 10 March 1944. In this action, south-west of Ireland, Swansea’s depth charges– joined with those from the British destroyer HMS Forester, the Canadian destroyer HMCS St. Laurent, and the Canadian corvette HMCS Owen Sound– sent U-845 to the bottom, with the group picking up 45 waterlogged survivors, KrvKpt. Weber not among them.

Then came U-448, a Type VIIC, sunk on 14 April 1944 north-east of the Azores by depth charges and naval gunfire from Swansea and the British sloop HMS Pelican, who afterward picked up 42 survivors. 

HMCS Swansea # 2 gun in action SWN0228

CANADIAN FRIGATE HMCS SWANSEA GETS ANOTHER U-BOAT. 1944, HMCS SWANSEA ACCOUNTED FOR HER SECOND U-BOAT. A NUMBER OF SURVIVORS WERE RESCUED. (A 24331) U-boat survivors clinging to a yellow inflated life raft, wait to be picked up after the U-boat had made its death dive. In the lower left-hand corner SWANSEA’s sea-boat is coming alongside with survivors, and (top left) is the sloop HMS PELICAN which also picked up survivors. Copyright: © IWM. Original Source: http://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/205156236

CANADIAN FRIGATE HMCS SWANSEA GETS ANOTHER U-BOAT. 1944, HMCS SWANSEA ACCOUNTED FOR HER SECOND U-BOAT. A NUMBER OF SURVIVORS WERE RESCUED. (A 24329) SWANSEA’s seaboat alongside U-boat survivors helped out of the sea and onboard the frigate. Copyright: © IWM. Original Source: http://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/205156234

CANADIAN FRIGATE HMCS SWANSEA GETS ANOTHER U-BOAT. 1944, HMCS SWANSEA ACCOUNTED FOR HER SECOND U-BOAT. A NUMBER OF SURVIVORS WERE RESCUED. (A 24330) One of the U-boat survivors, still dazed, rests on the deck as his sea-soaked clothes are stripped off by men of the SWANSEA. Copyright: © IWM. Original Source: http://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/205156235

CANADIAN FRIGATE HMCS SWANSEA GETS ANOTHER U-BOAT. 1944, HMCS SWANSEA ACCOUNTED FOR HER SECOND U-BOAT. A NUMBER OF SURVIVORS WERE RESCUED. (A 24332) Petty Officer G Ardy, of London, Ontario, standing by the gunshield on which are painted symbols indicating SWANSEA’s U-boat kills. Copyright: © IWM. Original Source: http://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/205156237

U-448’s skipper, the Iron Cross-daubed Oblt. Helmut Dauter, was famously photographed walking off Pelican’s deck into captivity at Greenock, his war over.

U-BOAT PRISONERS ARRIVE AT A BRITISH PORT. 20 APRIL 1944, GREENOCK, THE ARRIVAL OF U-BOAT PRISONERS PICKED UP AFTER BEING SUNK BY HMS PELICAN. (A 22935) The Captain of the U-Boat (U448) Helmut Dauter, wearing an Iron Cross, leaving HMS PELICAN. Behind him is Liuet J Bathurst, the Captain of HMS PELICAN. Dauter, who earned the German Cross in Gold, would survive the war, and pass in 1987. The fact that the skipper and 41 of his crew lived through a four-hour-long creeping attack and 56 depth charges, with their boat’s batteries damaged and depth gauge broken, as well as a 6-inch hole in the after part of U-448’s pressure hull, then surfaced into heavy fire from both of the greyhounds that chased her down and were able to abandon ship to be recovered alive, was a small miracle. Copyright: © IWM. Original Source: http://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/205155072

Swansea’s third sub, U-311 (Kptlt. Joachim Zander), another Type VIIC, was sent to her eternal patrol on 22 April 1944 south of Iceland by depth charges from Swansea and her sister, HMCS Matane, with all hands lost.

22 April 1944, HMCS Swansea, commanded by A/Cdr Clarence A. King, DSO, DSC, RCNR, with HMCS Matane commanded by A/Cdr A. Frank C. Layard, DSO, RN, using depth charges, together sink U 311 south of Iceland. This was Commander King’s third submarine “kill” in 7 weeks. LAC photos

Then came another escort, that of Convoy OS 077KM, in May.

After that, she was detailed as part of EG9 to Operation Neptune, the naval component of Operation Overlord, the Normandy invasion.

HMCS Swansea was present on D-Day, assigned to Plymouth Command to cover the lift across the Channel, and for the next four months patrolled the Channel in support of the ships supplying the invasion forces, coming to the aid of downed Allied aircraft when she could.

It was in this mission that, on 1 September 1944 in the English Channel near Lands’ End, Swansea, and her sister HMCS Saint John, sent U-247 (Oblt. Gerhard Matschulat) to the bottom with all hands.

Depth charge exploding astern of HMCS Swansea, 1944

She rode shotgun on the tail end of HX 307 the next week, making sure it made Liverpool.

Swansea was also a lifesaver, and notably rescued seven men from an adrift Mulberry artificial harbor segment on 24 September.

November 1944 saw Swansea on outbound Convoy ON 264, sailing for Nova Scotia where she would be given a six-month refit and overhaul, where she was on VE Day.

The ship’s company of HMCS SWANSEA, pictured on 30 November 1944

Her crew marched in Halifax’s victory parade.

HMCS Swansea crew VE celebration parade in Halifax NS in 1945. Note the Great War era Ross rifles

Ordered to work up for a Pacific deployment where she would lend her guns to the march on Tokyo, instead VJ Day found her in the Caribbean on post-refit shakedown.

Swansea was paid off on 2 November 1945 to reserve in Bedford Basin. She earned three Battle Honors (Atlantic 1943–44, Normandy 1944, English Channel 1944).

Jane’s 1946 entry on the 18 Canadian Rivers still in RCN service, noting all but one was in mothballs.

As for the legendary Capt. King, who had been on the bridge of Swansea for three of her U-boat kills and Operation Neptune, he would add a bar to his DSC and commanded the frigates HMCS Prince Rupert and Runnymede before moving to the Retired List in 1946. He crossed the bar in 1964 at Osoyoos, British Columbia, aged 77.

What of her sisters?

Of the 90 assorted Canadian River-class frigates ordered, a good number were canceled around the end of WWII. Four (HMCS Chebogue, HMCS Magog, HMCS Teme, and HMCS Valleyfield) were effectively lost to German U-boats during the conflict. Once VJ-Day came and went, those still under St George’s White Ensign soon went into reserve.

Graveyard, Sorel, P.Q Canadian corvettes and frigates laid up, 1945 by Tony Law CWM

Several were subsequently sold for peanuts to overseas Allies looking to upgrade or otherwise build their fleets including Denmark, the Dominican Republic, Chile, Israel, Peru, and India.

Others were de-militarized and sold on the commercial market including one, HMCS Stormont, that became Aristotle Onassis’s famous yacht, Christina O. HMCS St. Lambert became a merchant ship under Panamanian and Greek flags before being lost off Rhodes in 1964. Still others became breakwaters, their hulls used to shelter others.

One, HMCS Stone Town, was disarmed and tasked as a weather ship in the North Pacific in the 1950s and 1960s.

But, Swansea still had some life left in her. 

A different war

Swansea, by benefit of freshly refitting right before she was placed in reserve, was twice re-commissioned (12 April 1948-September 1949 and May 1951- 10 November 1953) for the purpose of training officer cadets and new recruits.

These periods saw her range as far north as Baffin Island and Godthab, Greenland, a three-week Caribbean training cruise, a Med cruise to the French Riveria, and Queen Elizabeth II’s Spithead review (34th in Line E).

She was paid off on 10 November 1953 and returned to storage once again.

Swansea was then selected to be rebuilt from 1956 to 1957, as a Prestonian class ocean escort with “FFE” pennant numbers, with our vessel becoming FFE-306. This conversion included a flush-decked configuration, an enlarged bridge, and a taller funnel. Deleted were the 20mm Oerlikons in favor of some 40mm Bofors. Further, they had their quarterdeck enclosed to accommodate two hulking Squid anti-submarine mortars in place of the myriad of depth charges/Hedgehog formerly carried. The sensor package was updated as well, to include ECM gear. One, HMCS Buckingham, was even given a helicopter deck.

Swansea recommissioned on 14 November 1957, ready to mix it up with Soviet subs if needed.

Seen in 1959, the Second World War frigate HMCS Swansea has been considerably modified to improve its anti-submarine capabilities. Although frigates like Swansea had been effective anti-submarine vessels during the Second World War, by the mid-1950s their weapons and equipment were of limited effectiveness against newer Soviet submarines. This photograph shows a number of the modifications made to Swansea between 1953 and 1957, including new guns and a bigger bridge for commanding and operating the ship (center). Other changes included the installation of two Squid anti-submarine mortars that replaced many of the ship’s depth charges. George Metcalf Archival Collection CWM 19780155-001

Swansea’s subsequent Cold War service was quiet, typically just involving assorted NATO exercises that ranged from Europe to the Caribbean.

Canadian aircraft carrier HMCS Bonaventure and HMCS Swansea, pictured on 18 May 1959

HMCS Swansea, Autumn 1962, 9th Squadron’s visit to Churchill, Manitoba. Photo by Angus Gillingham

HMCS Swansea color postwar DND photo

HMCS Swansea postwar note Maple Leaf on funnel CTB025222

Swansea, steaming postwar, note her 306 pennant numbers

HMCS Swansea (306) in Halifax circa 1950s. The stern of the Tribal-class destroyer HMCS Iroquois (G89/DDE 217) is in the foreground. The big Duracell battery-looking things are three-barrel 12-inch (305 mm) Squid ASW mortars that could lob 440-pound shells out to 275 yards. Photo Courtesy of Claus Mathes, via For Posterity Sake. SWN0284

She was paid off for a final time on 14 October 1966 and broken up in 1967 at Savona, Italy.

Epilogue

Little of Swansea remains.

A scale model of her is on display at the Canadian War Museum while a very detailed For Posterity’s Sake site exists chronicling the ship and her crew. 

Most of the remaining Canadian Prestonian/Rivers were discarded alongside Swansea as the new St. Laurent– and Restigouche-class destroyers joined the fleet.

Two endured in auxiliary roles for a few more years: HMCS St. Catharines as a Canadian Coast Guard ship until 1968 and HMCS Victoriaville/Granby as a diving tender until 1973.

None of the Canadian-built ships were retained as museum ships, which is a shame. 

In the end, two Canadian Rivers still exist, HMCS Stormont/yacht Christina O, and HMCS Hallowell/SLNS Gajabahu, with the latter a training ship in the Sri Lankan Navy until about 2016 and possibly still afloat.

Starting life in WWII as a Canadian Vickers-built River-class frigate HMCS Stormont, Christina O was purchased in 1954 by Greek shipping magnate Aristotle Onassis, who transformed her into the most luxurious private yacht of her time. She went on to host a wealth of illustrious guests, ranging from Marilyn Monroe and Frank Sinatra to JFK and Winston Churchill.

Canadian River-class frigate, ex-HMCS Strathadam, built in 1944 by Yarrow, Esquimalt. Sold 1947 to the Israeli Navy and renamed Misgav. Subsequently sold to the Royal Ceylon Navy as HMCyS Gajabahu. Photo via Shipspotting, 2007.

For more information on the RCN in WWII, please check out Marc Milner’s North Atlantic Run: The Royal Canadian Navy and the Battle for the Convoys.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’m a member, so should you be!

Warship Wednesday, Sept. 27, 2023: Of Shorts & Hard Charging Jeep Carriers

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

Warship Wednesday, Sept. 27, 2023: Of Shorts & Hard Charging Jeep Carriers

Admiralty Official Collection, IWM A 25686

Above we see, resplendent in their tropical shorts and whites, a three-man Fleet Air Arm Avenger Mk. I (TBF-1) crew of 851 Squadron— LT (A) S S Laurie, RNVR, observer; squadron leader LCDR (A) Anthony Montague “Steady” Tuke, DSC, RN, pilot; and CPO F R Brown, Telegraphist air gunner– by the aft flight deck elevator of the Ruler-class escort carrier HMS Shah (D 21) in August 1944, with four of the big torpedo bombers arrayed behind them. The place is likely Kilindini Harbor, in Mombasa, Kenya, where Shah was preparing to escort a convoy to Aden.

Commissioned 80 years ago today, she accounted for at least one U-boat, took the fight to the Pacific where she helped track down and kill the Japanese heavy cruiser Haguro, and served as a great snapshot for the end of the war—then went on to get really busy.

The Bouge/AmeerAttacker/Ruler/Smiter class

With both Great Britain and the U.S. running desperately short of flattops in the first half of World War II, and large, fast fleet carriers taking a while to crank out, a subspecies of light and “escort” carriers, the first created from the hulls of cruisers, the second from the hulls of merchant freighters, were produced in large numbers to put a few aircraft over every convoy and beach in the Atlantic and Pacific.

Of the more than 122 escort carriers produced in the U.S. for use by her and her Allies, some 45 were of the Bogue class. Based on the Maritime Commission’s Type C3-S-A1 cargo ship hull, these were built in short order at Seattle-Tacoma Shipbuilding Corporation, Ingalls Shipbuilding in Pascagoula, and by the Western Pipe and Steel Company of San Francisco.

Some 496 feet overall with a 439-foot flight deck, these 16,200-ton ships could only steam at a pokey 16 ish knots sustained speed, which negated their use in fleet operations but allowed them to more than keep up with convoys of troop ships and war supplies. Capable of limited self-defense with four twin Bofors and up to 35 20mm Oerlikons for AAA as well as a pair of 5-inch guns for defense against small boats, they could carry as many as 28 operational aircraft in composite air wings. They were equipped with two elevators, Mk 4 arresting gear, and a hydraulic catapult.

The U.S. Navy kept 11 of the class for themselves (USS Block Island, Bogue, Card, Copahee, Core, Nassau, Altamaha, Barnes, Breton, Croatan, and Prince William), all entering service between September 1942 and June 1943.

This left most of the Bogues (34 of 45) to go immediately to the Royal Navy via Lend-Lease, where they were known as the Ameer, Attacker, Ruler, or Smiter class in turn, depending on their arrangement. 

Meet Shah

Laid down on 13 November 1942 as the planned USS Jamaica (ACV-43/CVE-43) — after the bay on Long Island– under Maritime Commission contract by Seattle-Tacoma Shipbuilding Corp., she was launched 21 April 1943 and then handed over to the Royal Navy on 27 September 1943.

Our subject, once delivered to the British, was christened as the second ship in the RN to carry the name HMS Shah, with the first being a 19th-century 26-gun iron-hulled frigate that was significant for being the first naval vessel to fire a locomotive torpedo in action, the latter during an 1877 scrap with the Peruvian ironclad Huáscar, and lives on today in HMS Victory, who has carried her iron masts as her own since 1895.

The engagement between the Huascar and HMS Shah off Ilo, May 29, 1877, Griffin & Co, 1880, via National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London

The “Shah” name also dovetailed well into the naming convention for the Ruler class (HMS Emperor, HMS Empress, HMS Queen, HMS Khedive, et al) which made sense.

After entering RN service, the King’s newest carrier shipped gently north to HM Canadian Dockyard at Esquimalt B.C. to receive her British equipment and sensors, which kept her pier side for the rest of the year.

She would also embark 851 Squadron, 14 Avengers that had been formed at Squantum NAS the previous October.

When 1944 arrived, ordered to head across the Pacific to join the RN’s Eastern Fleet’s 1st Aircraft Squadron, Shah first diverted to San Francisco to pick up a load of aircraft bound for points East.

Overhead view of HMS Shah (D21), formerly Jamaica (CVE-43), moored at San Francisco in January 1944. The ship is ready to ferry a deck load of 29 Wildcats, 12 Avengers (which may be hers of 851 Sqn), and 22 Curtiss Warhawks (P-40) to Melbourne, Australia; Cochin, India; and Colombo, Ceylon. The carrier painted in camouflage Measure 21, moored on the opposite side of the pier, is sometimes identified as USS Rudyard Bay (CVE-81), but this is highly questionable given the date of the photo. A more likely candidate is the USS Prince William (CVE-31). (Photo: Navsource)

And while underway.

This cross-Pacific voyage included crossing the equator, and the required ceremony involved which was conducted after the aircraft were unloaded.

“The Ancient Mariners” performing during a fancy-dress parade on the flight deck of HMS Shah. IWM A 27858

WITH A CARRIER OF BRITAIN’S EASTERN FLEET. FEBRUARY 1945, ON BOARD THE ESCORT CARRIER HMS SHAH IN EASTERN WATERS. (A 27857) A fancy dress parade on the flight deck with ‘Potentate and his harem’ and ‘the Ancient Mariners’. Copyright: © IWM. Original Source: http://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/205159282

Getting into the war, for real

Wrapping up her assorted aircraft ferry missions by May 1944, Shah traveled to Colombo to reembark 851 Squadron (which had been at RNAS Colombo Racecourse since February) as part of Force 66. To her Avengers were added a half-dozen Martlets (Wildcats) for some extra muscle.

She would spend the next six months in serious trade protection duties across the Indian Ocean, tasked with searching for Axis blockade runners, raiders, and subs. This would include chasing the long-range Type IXD2 U-boat U-198 (Oblt. Burkhard Heusinger von Waldegg) to ground near the Seychelles over three days in August 1943 with her aircraft attacking the boat and her escorting frigates HMS Findhorn, Hedgehog, and the sloop HMIS Godavari sinking the sub with all hands (66 men).

“Steady” Tuke, 851’s shorts-clad commander in the first image of this post and the man who dropped a torpedo into the side of the Italian battleship Vittorio Veneto during the Battle of Matapan in 1941 while flying an Albacore off HMS Formidable, would add a bar to his DSC for U-198.

A Mk XI aerial depth charge is being loaded onto a Grumman Avenger aircraft on board the escort carrier HMS Shah in Eastern waters. IWM A 27853

By early 1945, Shah was clustered with the fellow escort carriers HMS Begum, Empress, Emperor, Stalker, and Attacker, to form Commodore Geoffrey Oliver’s 21st Aircraft Carrier Squadron of the East Indies Fleet at Colombo then, along with Empress, Shah was switched to Force 63 in April for Operation Bishop— a carrier raid and surface bombardment of Car Nicobar and Port Blair to provide cover for Operation Dracula (the amphibious landings off Rangoon).

WITH A CARRIER OF BRITAIN’S EASTERN FLEET. FEBRUARY 1945, ON BOARD THE ESCORT CARRIER HMS SHAH IN EASTERN WATERS. (A 27855) The escort carrier HMS BEGUM is in company. Avengers with folded wings are on the flight deck. Copyright: © IWM. Original Source: http://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/205159280

WITH A CARRIER OF BRITAIN’S EASTERN FLEET. FEBRUARY 1945, ON BOARD THE ESCORT CARRIER HMS SHAH IN EASTERN WATERS. (A 27850) Deck crews fuelling Avengers. One is standing by on the catapult. Copyright: © IWM. Original Source: http://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/205159276

WITH A CARRIER OF BRITAIN’S EASTERN FLEET. FEBRUARY 1945, ON BOARD THE ESCORT CARRIER HMS SHAH IN EASTERN WATERS. (A 27851) The guns of a Wildcat being serviced. Copyright: © IWM. Original Source: http://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/205159277

For Operation Bishop, the two “jeep carriers” would provide air cover for the Free French battlewagon Richelieu, the old dreadnought HMS Queen Elizabeth (flying the flag of VADM H.C.T. Walker), four cruisers (including the Free Dutch HrMs Tromp) and five destroyers.

This raid, from 27 April to 7 May, soon morphed into Operation Dukedom, to interdict Japanese surface ships trying to evac troops from the Andaman Islands in mid-May.

That led to Shah’s aircraft spotting the Japanese heavy cruiser Haguro and the destroyer Kamikaze north-east of Sabang and three of her Avengers from 851 NAS, operating from sister HMS Emperor due to catapult issues with Shah, making the longest Fleet Air Arm round-trip carrier-borne attack (530 miles) of the war on 15 May.

Early the next morning, a force of five greyhounds from Captain (later Admiral Sir) Manley L. Power’s 26th Destroyer Flotilla caught up to Haguro and sent her to the bottom in a brilliant night torpedo attack that rivaled anything the Japanese pulled off in the bad old days of 1942 off Guadalcanal.

July brought the planned landings in Malaya (Operation Zipper) which was postponed.

Shah was at sea with Force 61 for Operation Carson, a planned attack on enemy shipping and airfields in Penang and Medan on Japanese-occupied Dutch Sumatra, when news of the Japanese surrender hit on 14 August.

She was reportedly the first RN ship to enter Trincomalee after the news broke and was there for the celebrations that came. Fleet photographer Sub. Lt G. Hale captured a great series of images that covered the event.

(A 30202) Looking aft over the twin Bofors guns of HMS SHAH. Two other escort carriers, HMS KHEDIVE (leading) are coming up off the starboard quarter. All three carriers were out at sea when the end of WWII came. Copyright: © IWM. Original Source: http://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/205161379

(A 30204) Part of the ship’s company of HMS SHAH fallen in for entering harbour on the flight deck. The cruiser HMS CEYLON is in the background. It was the first time HMS SHAH made a peace-time entry into Trincomalee Harbour. It was taken at about mid-day on 15 August 1945, about 7 hours after the Prime Minister had broadcast the news that Japan had capitulated. Copyright: © IWM. Original Source: http://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/205161381

(A 30197) Sub Lieut (A) Murray Gordon White, RNVR, a Fairey Swordfish pilot of the Royal Navy, now assistant batman in HMS SHAH, batting on Avenger bombers on 12 August 1945, off the Andaman Islands. Copyright: © IWM. Original Source: http://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/205161374

(A 30203) Leading Seaman Alfred Charles Dennis of Plymouth enjoys a Victory cigar. He is indicating his approval not only with the quality of the cigar but with the occasion the photograph was taken, on board HMS SHAH on the day the Japanese capitulated (15 August 1945) Copyright: © IWM. Original Source: http://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/205161380

(A 30201) A peep at a game of hockey under an Avenger bomber on the flight deck of HMS SHAH, at sea in the Indian Ocean. One of the destroyer escorts can be seen on the port beam. Copyright: © IWM. Original Source: http://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/205161378

(A 30198) VJ Day celebration in Trincomalee Harbour. Taken from the flight deck of HMS SHAH shows how the British East Indies Fleet reacted to the end of the Japanese war. The flagship HMS NELSON was the centre of attraction, she is seen with her Spithead Fairy lights twinkling, being subjected to a friendly barrage of Pyrotechnics from the other ships in harbour. An Avenger bomber can be seen in the left h… Copyright: © IWM. Original Source: http://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/205161375

A particularly poignant image captures the men who were on duty when the war started in 1939. Of her total of over 700 embarked souls, this counted just 66 men. 

(A 30200) The Royal Navy had been at war, non-stop for six years, illustrated here unmistakably. Taken on board HMS SHAH on 15 August 1945, the day the Prime Minister broadcast the news that the Japanese had surrendered. A “pipe’ was made for all officers and men who were at sea on operations on 3 September 1939 to muster for a photograph on the flight deck. This is the result; 14 Officers and 52 ratings, 66 in all. The group includes the Captain and the Commander (centre) and the Chief Engineer. Copyright: © IWM. Original Source: http://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/205161377

Her war over, Shah embarked the men of the soon-to-be-disbanded 851 NAS and 845 NAS– sans their well-worn aircraft which were left in Ceylon– and set sail for “home” for the first time, arriving at Gourock on the Clyde on 7 October 1945.

De-stored, stripped of her British gear, and manned by a skeleton crew, she crossed the Atlantic for the first time and was turned back over to the U.S. Navy at Norfolk on 6 December.

Laid up at Hampton Roads, ex-Jamaica/ex-Shah was disarmed and sold on 20 June 1947 for use as a merchant provided her flight deck and hangar deck were stripped at the nearby Newport News shipyard.

She earned two RN Battle Honours: East Indies (1945) and Burma (1945).

By 1946, with the Royal Navy able to count a massive 23 purpose-designed flattops either under construction or afloat, it had no need to petition the Americans to keep any of the loaned jeep carriers. Jane’s that year only listed the RN with just two– British built– CVEs. 

HMS Campania and HMS Vindex, 1946

Civil heroics

Purchased for $8 million along with two other war surplus C-3-S-A1 Class hulls by the Compañía Argentina de Navegación Fluvial— the Dodero Line– ex-Jamaica/ex-Shah along with her former jeep carrier sister ex-SS Mormacmail/ex-HMS Tracker (D 24) were converted to economical passenger steamers, capable of hauling 1,328 passengers (all Third Class) and 175 crew members each on immigration runs from war-torn Europe to Latin America.

Shah became Salta while Tracker became Corrientes, operating on the Buenos Aires to Amsterdam and Hamburg runs and back.

Shah post-conversion to Salta via Karsten-Kunibert Krueger-Kopiske. 

Postcard showing Argentine mercantile Corrientes, ex-Mormacmail, ex-BACV 6, ex-HMS Tracker (D24), from the Ministerio de Transportes de la Nación, Flota Argentina de Navegación de Ultramar, Compañía Argentina de Navegación.

This continued until 1955 when the Dodero Line became part of the government-owned FANU (Flota Argentina de Navegación de Ultramar) line, which became ELMA in 1962.

It was during this service that Salta (with 1,014 of her own passengers aboard) came to the rescue of the old Dutch liner MS Johan van Oldenbarnevelt (then sailing as the Greek-flagged TSMS Lakonia) in December 1963 when the latter caught fire 180 miles off Madeira.

Lakonia burning

Receiving the SOS call through the then-new AMVER system while some 50 miles away, Salta’s skipper pushed her engines to the maximum and arrived alongside the smoking Lakonia three hours later. The American-built freighter/carrier/liner was the first vessel on the scene and rescued no less than 490 of the 1,022 souls aboard, most of whom were British. Five other ships, coming later, managed to save 404 between them.

The rescue was the highlight of the aging ship’s career and, suffering from mechanical issues, she was sold to the breakers at Río Santiago in 1966 for $640,000.

A plaque, presented by the survivors to Salta’s crew, along with a 40,000-peso accolade, is preserved in Argentina.

Epilogue

USS Jamacia/HMS Shah’s builder’s plans are in the National Archives.

The Royal Navy has not commissioned a third HMS Shah, and, likely never will for obvious reasons.

As for 851 Squadron, Shah’s hammer, its lineage passed on to the Royal Australian Navy. Recommissioned at Naval Air Station (NAS) Nowra on 3 August 1954, it flew a variety of types including sub-busting S-2 Trackers from the carrier HMAS Melbourne— appropriate for its past history– and remained in service for another 30 years until decommissioned in 1984.

851 Squadron S-2 Trackers in flight over Uluru S-2. 

Anthony Montague “Steady” Tuke, 851 Sqn’s WWII commander, retired from the FAA in 1947 and went on to live a long life.

His 2010 obituary noted, “In retirement Tuke, who regularly supported squadron reunions and Fleet Air Arm dinners, was group secretary for West Essex of the National Farmers Union; a lay tax commissioner; and a governor of his old school. At an old boys’ dinner in 2003, to a standing ovation, Tuke accepted a bill (in euros) for the damage he had done to Vittorio Veneto in 1941.”

Steady Tuke

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 (on a Thursday), Sept. 21, 2023: The Ajaccio Express

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

Warship Wednesday (on a Thursday), Sept. 20, 2023: The Ajaccio Express

Naval History and Heritage Command photo NH 88998

Above we see the French Redoubtable (Pascal)-class submarine of the M6 series (Agosta type), Casabianca (Q183), on the surface in the late 1930s. She is responsible for landing the first Allied troops on Axis-occupied Metropolitan France, some 80 years ago this week, and has a fascinating story that sort of dispels a lot of smack talk about the Marine nationale in WWII.

The Redoubtables

In the 1930s, the French Navy put a lot of faith in submarines, with upwards of 80 boats on the rolls during the decade. While a lot of those were old “2nd class” submarines or former German boats, there was also a formidable force of 31 modern “Classe 1,500 tonnes” boats that formed the backbone of the fleet. Large ocean-going “sous-marins de grande croisière” (high cruise submarines, i.e., 1st class subs), these boats were decent by any measure of their day.

Hitting the scales at just over 2,000 tons (submerged), they ran 302 feet long and were capable of (at least) 17 knots while surfaced and had long enough legs for 30-day cruises. Armed with a single 4-inch (100/45 M1925) deck gun, a twin 13.2mm Hotchkiss AA mount, and 11 torpedo tubes (9 fat bow and stern 21.65-inch tubes and a pair of smaller trainable 15.75-inch tubes), they could easily be compared to the prewar 307-foot Tambor-class “fleet boats” of the U.S. Navy and thoroughly outclassed the Kriegsmarine’s smaller and slower Type VII U-boats. When stacked against the most numerous pre-war Royal Navy boats, the T class (or Triton class) subs, these French Redoutables also ran a good bit larger and faster.

1931 Jane’s covering the Redoutables, at which point some 25 were in service. 31 would be built by 1939.

The first two boats of the class, Redoubtable (Q136) and Vengeur (Q137) were considered the initial M5 series, powered by a 4,000 hp suite– capable of 17 knots on the surface. The second flight, or M6 series, starting with Pascal (Q138), had more powerful 7,200 hp engines– pushing them to 19 knots– while the last six of the class, starting with Agosta (Q178), count on 8,000 hp and a speed of over 20 knots. This latter variant is often sometimes referred to as the Agosta-class.

They were fast diving, capable of getting submerged in 30-40 seconds, and had superb periscopes, although their listening gear and habitability were reportedly problematic– the latter no doubt due to their large 71-man (5 officers, 14 petty officers, 52 enlisted) crew. Their operating depth was listed as 250 feet– which would have meant easy death in the Pacific but was acceptable in the Med.

Double-hulled and able to partially use ballast tanks for diesel storage, they could make 14,000 nm at 7 knots on the surface before needing to refuel. This allowed the class to roam extensively overseas, including to French colonies in the Pacific, where one member, Phénix (Q157), was lost in an accident off Indochina in 1939. Another, Prométhée (Q153), was lost in 1932 while on sea trials in home waters.

Meet Casabianca

Our subject, a fast third-flight M6 Redoubtable, was ordered as part of the 1930 Programme/Naval Program No. 153 and as such was laid down at Saint Nazaire on 7 March 1937. She was commissioned on New Year’s Day 1937, the last of the class by pennant number (Q183) although five other boats would join the fleet after her, with the final Redoutables, Ouessant (Q180) and Sidi-Ferruch (Q181) not entering service until early 1939.

French submarine Casabianca 2 February 1935 at launch at the Nantes Shipyard of Ateliers Et Chantiers De La Loire NH 88999

Casabianca was originally named for the 1907 landings at the Moroccan city of Casablanca but instead was renamed in 1934 before launch for the Corsican-born French naval hero Luc-Julien-Joseph Casabianca, the skipper of the 118-gunned ship of the line L’ Orient which took Napoleon on his expedition to Egypt in 1798. He would go down with his ship at the Battle of the Nile at the hands of Nelson but died with all the appropriate honor and elan.

Bust of Capt. Casabianca and the painting, “The destruction of the Orient during the Battle of the Nile, August 1, 1798, by George Arnald, National Maritime Museum, London.

War!

When the French Republic went to war with Germany on 1 September 1939 as part of its pact with Poland, which was then under attack, Casabianca was at Brest as part of the 2ème DSM. She was soon ordered to Spanish waters along with sisters Agosta (Q178), Ouessant (Q180), and Achille (Q147) to watch for German blockade runners, U-boats, and raiders, a mission that would be maintained into November, with the squadron beefed up by the addition of Redoubtable sisters Sfax (Q182) and Pasteur (Q139).

With the war heating up, the boats of 2ème DSM, Casabianca included, were attached to the Royal Navy for a series of operations including convoy escort (!) from Halifax to Ireland in the winter of 1939/40, and a May 1940 patrol off Norway that saw the boats poking their periscopes up off occupied Bergen, Stavanger and Egersund but not coming away with any “kills” largely because of the handicap of following very strict “cruiser rules” for taking enemy ships. The only success the class saw in 1939 was when squadron member Poncelet (Q141) captured the German freighter Chemnitz (5522 GRT) off the Azores on 29 September and a prize crew sailed her home.

French submarine Casabianca oversee the departure from Brest to Harwich, on April 17th, 1940. IWM

June 1940 brought the Fall of France and 2ème DSM was ordered to leave their home port at Brest for the perceived safety of Casablanca, escaping capture by the oncoming Germans. The force, including our Casabianca, Sfax, Poncelet, Bévéziers, and Sidi-Ferruch, would arrive there just escaping the armistice, redubbing 2ème DSM (Maroc).

Sisters Pasteur, Agosta, Ouessant, and Achille, left behind at Brest, were duly scuttled by their crews.

Vichy sideshow

Casabianca and her squadron would remain at Casablanca, making short day trips and coastal sorties into November, when Casabianca and Sfax were ordered south to Dakar in French Senegal to increase the Vichy force there against an Allied effort to flip the colony for DeGaulle’s Free French movement. She would remain there, with the occasional trip back to Morrocco, until August 1941 when she was ordered to Toulon to be disarmed and de-fueled in compliance with German demands.

By this point in the war, of the 31 Redoubtables completed, 13 had already been lost (two in pre-war accidents, four scuttled at Brest in June 1940, Persée and Ajax sunk off Dakar by the British in September 1940, Poncelet sunk off Gabon by HMS Milford in November 1940, Sfax lost by mistake to U-37 in December 1940, while Bévéziers, Le Héros, and Monge were sunk off Madagascar in May 1942 by the British).

In late October 1942, with the war in North Africa going bad for the Axis, the French admiralty, with the blessing of the German Armistice Commission, ordered eight subs to rearm, including Casabianca, with the plan to deploy them as reinforcement against a possible Allied push into French North Africa.

Escape from Toulon

With the Germans effectively canceling the Vichy regime following the Allied Torch landings in North Africa– in which the Redoubtable-class boats Le Conquérant (Q171), Le Tonnant (Q172), Actéon (Q149), and Sidi-Ferruch were sunk in combat with the Allies and sisters Archimède, Argo, Protée and Le Centaure captured– the great Sabordé occurred at Toulon in which the bulk of the French navy fell on its sword on orders to prevent their ships from falling into German hands.

Among the 77 vessels sent to the bottom by their crews were another 20 French submarines including the Redoubtable herself and her sisters Vengeur, Pascal, Henri Poincaré, Fresnel, Achéron, and L’Espoir.

27 Novembre 1942 ,Toulon. the crew of a Panzer IV of the 2nd SS Division, Das Reich, watch a burning French warship, cruiser Colbert via Bundesarchiv, Bild 101I-027-1451-10 Vennemann, Wolfgang CC-BY-SA Libre de droits

However, five French subs got underway from the Mourillon docks at Toulon on the early pe-dawn of 27 November: our Casabianca, her sister Le Glorieux (Q168), the small (600 ton) Minerve-class boats Iris (Q188) and Vénus (Q187), and the aging 1,100-ton Requin-class submarine Marsouin (Q119).

With only seven of her 40-man crew aboard and damaged by harbor defenses, Vénus was scuttled in deep water once clearing the channel but blazed the way for the other four. The small Iris, with her fuel tanks nearly empty, was forced to stopover in Spain where she was seized and interned until the end of the war.

This left Casabianca, Le Glorieux, and Marsouin who, dodging German bombers and minefields, arrived unannounced off Allied-occupied Algiers on the early morning of the 30 November, with Casabianca’s skipper, 40-year-old Capitaine de Corvette Jean L’Herminier, to report to the American port captain that his boat was “fit for any mission.” 

Brave considering the Allies had been sinking French subs off that very port just a few weeks prior.

Indeed, L’Herminier had made it away from Toulon with all but two of his crew who missed the boat, even managing to bring along the ship’s mascot, a small gray dog named “Moussy.”

French Submarine Casabianca arrives Algiers after fleeing Toulon December 11 1942 IWM A 13154

Casabianca at Algiers after escape from Toulon. Note her trainable external sub-deck torpedo tube is out to port

French submarine Casabianca officers in Algiers after escaping Toulon with their boat. L’Herminier in center with cigarette

presentation of the Croix de Guerre to Frigate Captain L’Herminier December 1942 at Algiers by Admiral Darlan

Casabianca soon was detailed to the operational control of Capt. (future RADM) George Barney Hamley Fawkes’s 8th Submarine Flotilla of the Royal Navy, which had just moved its headquarters from Gibraltar to Algiers.

Cloak and Dagger work for the Allies.

While the bulk of behind-the-lines supply and liaison drops in occupied Europe came via airdropped parachute-delivered loads and small STOL planes such as the Lysander, Corsica proved almost immune to such deliveries due to its geography. The island’s built-up areas were so heavily garrisoned by the recently arrived Italian forces (80,000 troops overwatching a local population of 200,000) and the rural areas mountainous that airdrops were considered far-fetched.

This defaulted the effort to seaborne infiltration via small boats and submarines, the latter referred to as the so-called “Algerian Group” heavily involved in running “Le Tube” north to the Riveria and Corsica with the occasional side trip to land agents in ostensibly neutral Spain.

Sir Brooks Richards’s seminal two-volume work on clandestine Allied Sea transport operations in the Med during WWII, Secret Flotillas, spends about 50 pages detailing the 10-month groundwork for the ultimate liberation of Corsica (Operation Vesuvius) in 1943 and the role that the British and Free French submarine forces spent in making that happen. The name “Casabianca” appears in that section on almost every page.

While Casabianca wasn’t the only Free French boat running covert missions in the Med for Vesuvius– past Warship Wednesday alum the Saphir-class minelaying submarine La Perle (Q-184) was there as was Marsouin, Protée, Orphee, Sultane, Archimède, and Arethuse-– none matched CC L’Herminier’s workhorse who accomplished both the first mission and the chalked up the most trips to the island.

As detailed by Sir Brooks:

Casabianca’s displacement was more than twice that of the British S-class and larger than that of the T-class British submarines of the 8th Flotilla, so she offered great advantages in terms of carrying capacity for landing agents and supplies. This and the inspiring personality of her commanding officer [L’Herminier]…made her an obvious choice when a vessel was needed to carry a five-man mission, code-named Pearl Harbor, to Corsica in early December.

Elaborating on L’Herminier, Sir Brooks said:

He was in his early forties while British submarine captains were in their mid-twenties. The fact that Casabianca was not equipped with ASDIC and her torpedoes proved erratic meant that her offensive potential was not rated highly by the Royal Navy and Captain (S)8 was more than ready for her to be used for “cloak and dagger” missions.

Thus, Casabianca’s tasking came from the OSS/SOE’s “conspicuously successful” Massingham Mission and the Free French’s own Deuxième Bureau military intelligence organization under Colonel Paul Paillole.

To assist with the landings and beach recons needed for such operations, the French boat sent eight volunteers from the crew through an abbreviated Commando course conducted by Massingham at the Club des Pins while the boat herself would be fitted with American-supplied rubber rafts, quickly inflated on deck via a lead from the sub’s compressed air system. Later, a pair of lightweight plywood dories made at Helford specifically for such use as they were equipped with large removable kingstons to allow the dories to flood and drain as the submarine dived or surfaced when stowed topside. The Helfords would fit neatly when carried upside down atop Casabianca’s pressure hull, under the forward deck casing.

Finally, L’Herminier was all-in on risking his boat to get close to shore, typically grounding inshore close to the beach when conducting often all-night unloadings, then pulling off just before dawn to submerge on the bottom just offshore to surface again the following evening to do it all again. This was vital as the “delivery boats” were human powered and the crew was burdened by moving 70-pound packages chain gang style from every nook and cranny of the submarine where they were stowed, up to the deck via small hatches, and into the boats then over the beach and into the cache– all in the dark by feel with no lamps allowed.

CASABIANCA ESCAPED THE FRENCH SUBMARINE NOW HUNTS AXIS SHIPPING IN THE MEDITERRANEAN. 20 MARCH 1943, ALGIERS, CASABIANCA, ONE OF THE FRENCH SUBMARINES THAT ESCAPED FROM TOULON, HAS SINCE BEEN HUNTING DOWN AXIS SHIPPING IN THE MEDITERRANEAN. (A 15700) Sailors of the French submarine CASABIANCA mustered on deck for inspection. With them is the ship’s mascot, Moussy, which escaped with the ship and goes on all patrols. Copyright: © IWM. Original Source: http://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/205148727

CASABIANCA ESCAPED FRENCH SUBMARINE NOW HUNTS AXIS SHIPPING IN MEDITERRANEAN. 20 MARCH 1943, ALGIERS, CASABIANCA, ONE OF THE FRENCH SUBMARINES WHICH ESCAPED FROM TOULON, HAS SINCE BEEN HUNTING DOWN AXIS SHIPPING IN THE MEDITERRANEAN. (A 15698) Officers and crew of the French submarine line the deck as she comes in after another successful patrol. Copyright: © IWM. Original Source: http://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/205148725

A brief rundown on her Corsica operations, via Brooks, in which, in addition to her agent shuttling service, Casabianca landed no less than 61 tons of supplies across the beach in such a manner to the local resistance groups throughout seven sorties to the island:

Casabianca I/Pearl Harbor: Landing Commandant Roger de Saule (French intelligence officer), three Corsicans: wireless operator Pierre Griffi, Sgt. Maj Toussaint Griffi, and trade unionist resistance member Laurent Preziosi. Tagging along was mysterious Eastern European OSS agent “Frederick Brown.” Casabianca had been in Algiers less than two weeks when she left on Pearl Harbor on 11 December. After a two-night close recon to find the ideal beach at Anse-de Topiti on Corsica’s west coast, the group was landed with the submarine departing for Algiers again on 16 December– sans three of her crew that had been left behind to join the Pearl Harbor team when their dingy swamped.

Casabianca II/Auburn: February 1943. Landed three Deuxième Bureau, one OSS, and two SIS agents (Capt. Caillot, Lt. Guillaume, Fred Brown, Adj. Bozzi, and SGT Chopitel) on two different beaches (Bon Porte Bay and Baie d’Arone). Then landed 450 STEN guns and 60,000 rounds of 9mm ammo for local Resistance members while two more Casabianca sailors were left ashore.

Casabianca III/Pearl Harbor II: March 1943.A complicated multipart mission to pick up Casabianca’s five castaways who had been working with the local maquis, land three Deuxième Bureau agents, and pick up two French agents that had been landed in other operations. L’Herminier capped off the mission with an unsuccessful four-torpedo attack against the Italian steamers Francesco Crispi and Tagliamento off Bastia.

Casabianca IV: May 1943: Landed four unidentified Deuxième Bureau agents, and conducted a war patrol in the area.

Casabianca V/Scalp. July 1943. With an embarked four-man SOE conducting party (including the future Sir Brooks), landed 13 tons of stores and two agents across two nights at Curza Point– mostly Axis small arms salvaged from the huge stocks of the Afrika Korps recently surrendered in Tunisia. As noted by Brooks: “In one short summer’s night, L’Herminier and his crew had succeeded in landing and hiding eight tons of arms and explosives in hostile territory without any outside help. No British submarine captain would have been allowed to take his submarine inshore to the point to where she grounded, as a preliminary to sending the boats away.” On her way back, she fired three torpedoes at the freighter Champagne near Giraglia, which missed.

Casabianca VI/Scalp II: July-August 1943. Another 20 tons of stores landed at Curza Point for the maquis, with an embarked SOE conducting party assisting.

Casabianca VII/Scalp III: Early September 1943. Landed two agents and another 5 tons of arms and ammunition at Golfe de Lava. Extracted a Corsican resistance leader, Arthur Giovoni, bound for Algiers to consult with Allied leadership about the upcoming landings. Giovoni, alias “Luc,” had a detailed copy of the Italian defense plan for the island, which had been recently acquired.

Her seven Corsican missions. She circled the island.

In all, the Massingham SOE mission was able to filter 250 tons of arms and stores into Corsicaoverf almost eight months, of which Casabianca alone delivered nearly a quarter.

Vesuvius D-Day

By the time Operation Vesuvius kicked off, the Corsican resistance could count 20,000 armed members in the field– a force double the size of the 10,000-man light corps (1er Corps d’Armée) under Free French Lt. Gen. Henry Martin that would begin landing on 13 September to liberate the island.

Speaking of which, the very first landings of combat troops would be at Ajaccio, with Casabianca making her 8th trip to the island, delivering 109 members of 1er Bataillon de Choc, Gen. Martin’s door kickers, while two crack Moroccan goumier divisions (4e DMM and 2e GTM) were inbound on an array of French surface ships. The operation was allocated to be an (almost) entirely Free French affair. 

Free French soldiers from the Bataillon de Choc, a commando unit created in Algeria in early 1943. The Bataillon was decisive in the liberation of Corsica and Elba. This picture, with a recently repurposed camouflaged German 7.5cm Pak 40, was taken after they landed in Provence during Operation Dragoon, during the fight to free Toulon, in  August 1944. Note the mix of gear including British watch caps, American M1903 rifles, boots and gaiters, and Italian Beretta MAB 38sub guns. Also, note the open 75mm shell crate with two rounds ready.

French Troops training for the invasion of Southern France in North Africa, likely of the Bataillon de Choc. One holding an M1 Thompson sub gun and the others wielding M1903A3 rifles with bayonets attached, the three slash into barbed wire barricades set up on a beach. Photograph received on 27 September 1944. 80-G-59465

Bataillon de Choc in late WWII with the Marlin UDM42 SMG during the liberation of Grenoble 22 August 1944

In addition to the commandos, Casabianca’s 8th sortie landed a joint SOE-Deuxième Bureau team of senior officers to liaise directly with the local resistance forces and help tie the whole operation together, with the twine of previously landed wireless teams helping to sew the strange quilt together.

The sub was mobbed when she arrived. 

The fight was short, as the Italian garrison had (mostly) laid down their arms with the Armistice of Cassibile on 3 September, but there were still 10,000 Germans on the island as well as 32,000 Germans on nearby Sardinia that were evacuating through Corsica back to the Italian mainland.

French destroyers Tempête and L’Alcyon landing troops Ajaccio, Operation Vésuve Sept 17 1943 Corsica

The fighting didn’t conclude until the first week of October which ultimately saw some Italian troops cross over to the Allies and lend a hand to help speed up the operation. 

The STEN gun, both in the hands of Free French troops and Resistance forces, was key in the fighting for Corsica, and thousands of them were landed by Casabianca

Goumiers marocains, Libération de la Corse. Note the French cadre in more traditional dress.

September 21, 1943 first goumiers landed at Ajaccio, Corsica. Note these are still carrying French weapons and don’t have Brodie helmets yet.

Back to work

Casabianca would go on to conduct at least two further Deuxième Bureau covert missions– one, in November 1943, to embark agents from remote Cap-Camarat near Ramatuelle on the Riveria, and the second, in May 1944, to drop off and pick up agents in Spain.

Casabianca returns to port from a mission in the Mediterranean, on 23 June 1944. NARA 80-G-253640

RADM Andre Lemonnier, French Navy salutes from shore as the French submarine Casabianca returns to port from a mission in the Mediterranean, 23 June 1944. NARA 80-G-253638

She would also conduct several short combat patrols and managed to sink two German submarine chasers (UJ-6076, ex-Volontaire, on 22 December 1943 off Toulon and UJ-6079 off Provence on 8/9 June 1944). In addition, she pumped a torpedo into the freighter Chisone (6168 GRT, built 1922) off Cap-Camarat on 28 December, seriously damaging but not sinking the Italian merchant vessel.

By August 1944, with the Dragoon Landings moving inshore from the Rivera towards the French interior, Casabianca along with surviving sisters Archimède, Le Glorieux, and Le Centaure, were tapped for modernization in the U.S., leaving for Philadelphia NSY soon after. The refit saw HF/DF gear, radar (SD/SJ), and sonar (WDA, JP) sets installed while the twin 13.2mm Hotchkiss machine gun mount was replaced by a twin 20/70 Oerlikon.

Casabianca was not returned to service until the end of March 1945, when her war was officially over.

For the next six years, she participated in a series of Med cruises and experiments– to include launching a captured German Focke-Achgelis Fa 330 Bachstelze (Wagtail) rotor kite.

The 1946 Jane’s entry for what was left of the Redoubtable class, now dubbed the Archimède-class after the seniormost member.

Casabianca was decommissioned in February 1952 and sold for scrap in 1956.

Casabianca’s crew was cited seven times (l’ordre de l’armée de mer) and the submarine was decorated with the Croix de Guerre and the red fourragère of the Legion of Honor, for her wartime service.

Her British-style Jolly Roger marked her seven covert missions to Corsica, along with her surface and subsurface actions.

Note the Corsican flag, with the red dot for Ajaccio. The boat’s final Jolly Roger is proudly held in the French Navy Museum.

Epilogue

Casabianca’s fairwater was salvaged from her during disassembly and paraded through Paris.

It was eventually installed at Bastia in Corsica, where it remains today.

Similarly, a marker was emplaced at Ajaccio, celebrating the September 1943 landing there of Casabianca and the 109 commandos of the Bataillon de Choc.

She is well remembered in maritime art

A 42-minute documentary was filmed about her and is available online. 

Sadly, L’Herminier, suffering from thrombosis, left for the U.S. for medical treatment in August 1944, which led to the amputation of both of his legs. Nonetheless, the fearless submariner remained on the rolls in administrative functions until his death, writing two books and serving as an adviser to the film, “Casabianca, Pirate Ship,” about his sub’s Corsican exploits.

L’Herminier was portrayed by French actor Jean Vilar and was filmed aboard Casabianca’s sister, Le Glorieux. 

Decorated with the Grand Cross of the Légion d’honneur, Capitaine de vaisseau Jean L’Herminier passed in 1953 in Paris, at age 51, and several streets across the country were subsequently renamed in his honor.

The D’Estienne d’Orves-class aviso Commandant L’Herminier (F791) was commissioned in 1986 and was the only ship in the French Navy authorized to fly “le pavillon de pirate,” a replica of Casabianca’s Jolly Roger.

The flag was proudly a part of her crew’s patch. She was decommissioned on 7 March 2018.

As for the name Casabianca, it was reissued to a destroyer (D 631) of all things in 1954, then, more fittingly, to a Rubis-class nuclear attack submarine, Casabianca (S603), launched in 1984.

Casabianca (S603), which was just paid off in August, carried Casabianca’s Jolly Roger on her fairwater and her crew maintained a replica as well.

The sixth new Suffern-class SSN will become the next Casabianca (S640) when she commissions in 2029.

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

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

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

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

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

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I’m a member, so should you be!

Warship Wednesday, Sept. 13, 2023: Mud Hen Regulus Pitcher

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

Warship Wednesday, Sept. 13, 2023: Mud Hen Regulus Pitcher

Official U.S. Navy Photograph, now in the collections of the National Archives. 80-G-433460

Above we see, through the swirling smoke, the Baltimore-class heavy cruiser USS Toledo (CA 133) as she lets rip an 8-inch gun salvo into enemy installations at Wonsan in September 1951 during the Korean War. Note her Star-Spangled Banner and hull number identifiers on her turret tops, needed in the age of onboard helicopter detachments and fast-moving jets operating in a combined United Nations fleet.

Laid down 80 years ago today, our cruiser was too late to get in licks in World War II but as you can see, earned her keep in later conflicts.

The Baltimores

When the early shitstorm of 1939 World War II broke out, the U.S. Navy, realized that in the likely coming involvement with Germany in said war– and that country’s huge new 18,000-ton, 8x8inch gunned, 4.1-inches of armor Hipper-class super cruisers– it was outclassed in the big assed heavy cruiser department. When you add to the fire the fact that the Japanese had left all of the Washington and London Naval treaties behind and were building giant Mogami-class vessels (15,000 tons, 3.9 inches of armor), the writing was on the wall.

That’s where the Baltimore class came in.

These 24 envisioned ships of the class looked like an Iowa-class battleship in miniature with three triple turrets, twin stacks, a high central bridge, and two masts– and they were (almost) as powerful. Sheathed in a hefty 6 inches of armor belt (and 3 inches of deck armor), they could take a beating if they had to. They were fast, capable of over 30 knots, which meant they could keep pace with the fast new battlewagons they looked so much like, as well as the new fleet carriers that were on the drawing board.

Baltimore class ONI2 listing

While they were more heavily armored than Hipper and Mogami, they also had an extra 8-inch tube, mounting nine new model 8-inch/55 caliber guns, whereas the German and Japanese only had 155mm guns (though the Mogamis later picked up 10×8-inchers). A larger suite of AAA guns that included a dozen 5-inch/38 caliber guns in twin mounts and 70+ 40mm and 20mm guns rounded this out.

In short, these ships were deadly to incoming aircraft, could close to the shore as long as there were at least 27 feet of seawater for them to float in and hammer coastal beaches and emplacements for amphibious landings, then take out any enemy surface combatant short of a modern battleship in a one-on-one fight. They were tough nuts to crack, and of the 14 hulls that took to the sea, none were lost in combat. 

Meet Toledo

Our subject was the first U.S. Navy ship named for “The Glass City” in Ohio, home off and on since 1896 to the famous Toledo Mud Hens.

Laid down on 13 September 1943 by the New York Shipbuilding Corp. at Camden, New Jersey, she was launched two days shy of VE-Day on 6 May 1945.

Bow view of the USS Toledo leaving drydock 6 May 1945. Temple University Libraries, Special Collections Research Center

Her “hometown” was so impressed by the warship that the Navy League of Toledo was able to raise $12,500 for a beautiful 204-piece silver service worthy of a battleship and commissioned through the Gorham Silver Company of Rhode Island and engraved with local landmarks that were presented to the ship.

With WWII over and no rush to get Toledo into the fight anymore, she wasn’t commissioned at the nearby Philadelphia Naval Shipyard across the river until 27 October 1946. Her first of 17 skippers– all Annapolis grads– was Capt. August Jackson Detzer, Jr. (USNA ’21), who started his career as a midshipman during the Great War on the old battleship USS Maine (BB-10).

1946 Jane’s for the Baltimore class heavy cruisers, including the new Toledo

While many members of her class had to fight for their lives shortly after being commissioned, Toledo was much luckier, and she spent 1947 enjoying the life of a peacetime heavy cruiser in the world’s largest Navy. She ranged across the West Indies on a shakedown cruise, then was sent to the Far East to assist in Japan/Korea Occupation duties via the Mediterranean and Suez Canal, remaining in the West Pac until November of that year when she made sunny California, calling at her homeport of Long Beach for the first time, just in time for Thanksgiving. A nice first year afloat!

Toledo made two more peacetime deployments to the West Pac in 1948-49, notably calling on newly independent India and Pakistan on a goodwill cruise and standing by during the evacuation of Chiang Kai-shek’s Nationalist KMT forces from mainland China to Taiwan.

It was during this period that Toledo saw her first of several major overhauls, done at Puget Sound NSY from 5 October 1948 to 18 February 1949, which included landing her 20mm Oerlikons and seaplane catapults/handling gear. 

Moving forward, she would carry helicopters as needed.

USS Helena (CA-75) and sister USS Toledo (CA-133) at Pier 15, Balboa, Canal Zone, July 1, 1949. National Archives Identifier 202801697

USS Toledo (CA-133) at anchor, circa 1949. Note her glad rags flying and the small WWII-style hull numbers.

War!

At rest in Long Beach on 25 June 1950, having just returned home from her third West Pac cruise only 13 days prior, news came that the North Korean military rushed across the 38th parallel, sparking an international response.

Recalling her crew and fixing what deficiencies they could, Toledo arrived off the Korean coast on 25 July, running her first of many, many naval gunfire bombardment missions just two days later, hitting Nork positions near Yongdok on 27 July.

USS Toledo’s forward 8-inch guns. They would get a lot of work off Korea. Kodachrome by Charles L Patterson, who served on her Marine Det in the 1950s

Perhaps one of the most beautiful images of a cruiser ever taken. USS Toledo (CA-133) Off the east coast of Korea while operating with Task Force 77. Photographed from a USS Essex (CV-9) aircraft. The original photo is dated 6 September 1951. NH 96901

USS Toledo (CA 133) blasts shore installations as her main battery sends a salvo into Communist transportation facilities in Korea. Operating with United Nations Forces, this was the first target upon reporting for duty, as a detached element of Task Force 77. Note the twin 5″/38 DP mounts in action at near max elevation, a depressed 8″/55 mount seen belching fire to the top right, and lifejacket/helmeted gun crews in the 40mm quad Bofors tub. 330-PS-2115 (USN 432090)

With Marine ANGLICO teams in short supply in this early stage of the war– busy operating in support of ROK and U.S. Army forces– the ship landed shore parties to provide direct naval gunfire support and correction of shot the old-fashioned way.

USS Toledo (CA-133) Shore fire control party from Toledo in an observation post overlooking the Han River, Korea, circa late April, or May 1951. They are ready to spot and correct the cruiser’s gunfire should the enemy appear. 80-G-432346

A shore fire control party from Toledo moves up past Korean tombs to man an observation post overlooking the Han River, circa late April, or May 1951. 80-G-432355

The smoke ring is formed by the escape gases and smoke as USS Toledo (CA 133) fires a 5” salvo at enemy installations in Wonsan, Korea. Photograph received September 23, 1951. 80-G-433428

USS Toledo (CA-133) Underway in Korean waters, with a battleship and a destroyer in the right distance. The original photo is dated 2 November 1952. NH 96902

USS Toledo (CA-133) The cruiser’s shells hit enemy installations in the Wonsan Harbor area, Korea, during a bombardment in early 1953. 80-G-478496

USS Toledo (CA-133) firing her forward 203 mm guns

She completed three wartime cruises off Korea during the conflict, in all conditions.

USS Toledo (CA-133). Official caption: “In Seas that Smoke with the wind and cold, the USS Toledo (CA-133) fights the elements as well as the enemy off the coast of North Korea. The heavy cruiser, now on her third tour of duty in the war zone, is due to return to the States for overhaul this coming spring.” Photograph and caption were released circa Winter 1952-53. The view was taken from Toledo’s icy forecastle, looking out over the cold Sea of Japan toward an aircraft carrier. The carrier is either the Essex-class Valley Forge (CVA-45) or the Philippine Sea (CVA-47). From the All-Hands collection at the Naval History and Heritage Command. NH 97171

In all, Toledo was authorized six (of a possible 10) Korean Service Medals, with the breaks in dates often due to leaving the gun line to get more shells:

  • K1 – North Korean Aggression: 26 Jul-12 Sep 50 and 18 Sep-23 Oct 50
  • K3 – Inchon Landing: 13-17 Sep 50
  • K5 – Communist China Spring Offensive: 26 Apr-30 May 51 and 12 Jun-8 Jul 51
  • K6 – UN Summer-Fall Offensive: 9-Jul-51, 25 Jul-7 Aug 51, 10-22 Aug 51, 5-9 Sep 51, 11-14 Sep 51, 17 Sep-4 Oct 51, 18-30 Oct 51, and 1-12 Nov 51
  • K8 – Korean Defense Summer-Fall 1952: 13-29 Sep 52, 9-18 Oct 52, and 30 Oct- 30 Nov 52
  • K9 – Third Korean Winter: 1-Dec-52, 17 Dec 52-16 Jan 53, and 28 Jan-24 Feb 53

Besides her Korean battle stars (five listed in DANFS, six authorized according to NHHC) Toledo earned a Republic of Korea Presidential Unit Citation for her service.

Needless to say, her gunners and deck division guys humped a lot of shells and charges during the war.

USS Toledo (CA-133) Crewmen bring eight-inch powder charges aboard from a barge alongside, at Sasebo, Japan, circa July-October 1950, while Toledo was engaged in Korean War combat operations. Note the ship’s after eight-inch triple gun turret trained on the starboard beam, and aircraft crane and hangar hatch cover at the stern. NH 96903

USS Toledo (CA-133) Eight-inch shells and powder charges on a barge alongside the starboard quarter, as Toledo replenished her ammunition supply in Sasebo Harbor, Japan, after combat operations off Korea, circa July-October 1950. Crewmen are carrying the powder cans into position to be hoisted aboard the cruiser. NH 96905

USS Toledo (CA-133) Crewmen loading ammunition from a barge in Inchon Harbor, Korea, before Toledo’s moving into position to support United Nations ground forces, as they attempt to stop the enemy’s spring offensive, circa late April 1951. The original photo is dated 14 April 1951, which is nearly two weeks before Toledo arrived in the combat zone to begin her second Korean War tour. Men in the center are carrying eight-inch powder cans, while those at right have hand trucks to move the heavy main battery projectiles. NH 96904

In return, on several occasions, she sorrowed through Chinese/Nork counterfire from the shore including some close calls where shells straddled our cruiser, but in the end, suffered no hits.

Toledo was also a lifesaver, with her helicopters and boats plucking several downed pilots from the water, including one, from the carrier USS Boxer (CV-21), twice.

Peace again

Arriving back in California from her third combat deployment on St. Patrick’s Day 1953, she was sidelined at Hunter’s Point NSY for a five-month overhaul when the truce was worked out on 27 July. So far, it has held.

Our recently refitted cruiser had a series of snapshots captured during this refit. Importantly, she shipped her 40mm guns ashore for 10 twin 3″/50 (7.62 cm) Mark 33 Mounts and new Mk 56 FC radar fits.

USS Toledo (CA 133), sometime after her 1953 refit. Note the forward port 5″/38 DP mount at maximum elevation, 3″/50 mounts, and the Commencement Bay-class escort carrier in the background. NH 67806

Following her refit and the outbreak of an uneasy peace on the Korean peninsula, Toledo completed her seventh and eighth West Pac deployments (November 1953- May 1954 and September 1954- March 1955), spending lots of time ranging from Japan to Korea and Taiwan where she once again supported a KMT evacuation, this time from the Tachen Islands in January 1955 where her guns rang out once again against the Red Chinese.

USS Toledo (CA-133) (left) and sister USS Helena (CA-75) (right) moored at Yokosuka, Japan, 1955

Missile days

Four Baltimores were refitted for the nuclear deterrent role, USS Helena, Los Angeles, Macon, and our own Toledo. This saw them pick up the ability to carry as many as three nuclear-capable SSM-N-8A Regulus I cruise missiles on the stern and a distinctive 8-foot diameter AN/SPQ-2 S-Band mesh symmetrical parabolic antenna’d missile guidance radar to control them. Of course, Regulus had an over-the-horizon operational range of some 500 nm while the SPQ-2 was limited to just 50 under ideal conditions, but hey.

The Regulus was a big boy, 32 feet long with a 21-foot wingspan and a launch weight of 13,685 pounds. Essentially the same size as an F-86 Sabre. Capable of using first the W5 (120 kT) then the W27 (1,900 kT) thermonuclear warheads.

Sailors aboard the USS Helena (CA 75) inspect a Regulus missile mounted on the stern of the ship. The Helena is moored at an unknown Far East port in early 1956. Note the old seaplane service hatch open. LIFE Magazine Archives, Hank Walker photographer.

To accommodate the installation, the aircraft catapults were removed as were any remaining 40mm guns and the stern 3″/50 mount.

October 1959, heavy cruiser Helena gets her Regulus I missiles maintenance done before she departs for Japan

It was a hell of a thing to see one launch from one of these cruisers.

Official caption: “Nuclear Assault A Regulus I boils white smoke from booster charges as it roars away from its launcher aboard the heavy cruiser USS Los Angeles off San Diego. The launch, a routine evaluation ‘shoot’, was conducted during the time that 600 members of the Institute of Aeronautical Science were embarked aboard the attack carrier USS Ticonderoga (CVA-14), right. The demonstration, which included a ‘Terrier’ guided missile interception of the Regulus, power exhibition, carrier operations, and a HUK exercise, was highlighted by the Regulus launching. The Terrier was fired at the Regulus from the USS Norton Sound (AVM-1), background, on August 7, 1957.” NH 97391

A U.S. Navy Regulus missile is launched from the USS Helena in February 1957. K-21731

Toledo received her missile fit during a four-month overhaul at the Puget Sound NSY in the summer of 1955.

C.1955. Starboard-bow view of the cruiser USS Toledo (CA-133) firing a Regulus I surface-to-surface guided missile. The missile is controlled by the SPQ-2 radar trained to starboard at the head of the mainmast. Other radars visible include the SPS-4 Zenith surface search at the head of the foremast and the SPS-6 air search below it. A Mark 25 fire control radar is fitted on the Mark 37 secondary armament director, which is trained to port and partially obscured by the Mark 13 fire control radar on the main armament director. Note the twin 3-inch/50 AA guns on the main deck forward and the raised platforms amidships abaft the twin 5-inch/38 gun turret. They are controlled by the Mark 56 directors mounted on either side of the forward superstructure and amidships.

Original Kodachrome of an SSM-N-8 Regulus cruise missile on USS Toledo (CA-133) in 1958. Note she still has her seaplane crane, a common feature. U.S. Navy photo from her 1958 cruise book available at Navysite.de

Between early 1956 and November 1959, Toledo remained very active when it came to keeping up appearances in the West Pac, making no less than four more deployments to the region in that period.

USS Toledo (CA 133) at Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada on 4 August 1956. City of Vancouver archives.

USS Toledo (CA-133). Port bow view while underway in 1957. Note her extensive twin 3″/50 DP fits, including one forward and aft as well as three on each broadside, and multiple AN/SPG-35 (Mk56) GFCS AAA fire controls. A big-gun cruiser to the max!

USS Toledo (CA-133) seen turning away from USS Columbus (CA-74) after a highline transfer. Photo taken from USS Columbus during her 1956 WESTPAC cruise. Note the helicopter on deck. From the collection of Domenic S. Terranova, USS Columbus Fire Control Officer. Via Navsource.

USS Toledo underway Kodachrome by Charles L Patterson

On board the heavy cruiser Toledo during her visit to Sydney in May 1958 for the commemoration of the Battle of the Coral Sea.

Bluejackets hanging out with some local ladies during Toledo’s visit to Sydney in May 1958 for the commemoration of the Battle of the Coral Sea. Note the Regulus

USS Toledo (CA-133) anchoring in Tokyo Bay, in 1959.

End game

With the Navy converting five Baltimore and Oregon City-class heavy cruisers into guided missile cruisers, scraping off most of their guns in favor of batteries of Talos and Tartar missile launchers while the nuclear-powered USS Long Beach (CLGN-16) was slated to commission in 1961, keeping a bunch of (almost) all-gun cruisers in commission in the age of the atom seemed increasingly antiquated.

This led the Navy to mothball just about every unconverted heavy and light cruiser in the inventory, including the mighty 20,000-ton USS Des Moines (CA-134) and sister Salem (CA-139), only keeping the newest of that class, USS Newport News (CA-148) around to fill in as the last active all-gun heavy cruiser in the fleet, lingering until 1975.

Dovetailing into this retirement program, Toledo was placed out of commission at Long Beach on 21 May 1960, then moved to the reserve basin at San Diego and remained there for the next 14 years.

In 1973, the 7 remaining unconverted Baltimores, Toledo included, made their final appearance in Jane’s.

Long laid up, these were listed as “fire support ships.”

On 1 January 1974, Toledo’s name was struck from the Navy list, and then she was sold to the National Metal & Scrap Corp. on 30 October 1974. Her sisters had either already been disposed of or were soon to follow except for USS Chicago (CA-136/CG-11), which somehow was not decommissioned until 1980 and scrapped until 1991.

And of Regulus?

Besides the four Regulus-equipped cruisers, the Navy fielded the early cruise missile on two converted WWII diesel submarines and three purpose-built boats. Meanwhile, 10 Essex and Midway-class carriers were equipped to fire the missile as well.

By 1961, Regulus and its SPQ-2 control radar were replaced by the Polaris A1 SLBM carried by a new generation of Fleet Ballistic Missile submarines, largely ending the strategic nuke role by the U.S. Navy surface fleet. Tactical nukes, however, endured in the form of the 40-mile ranged RIM-2D Terrier BT-3A(N) with its W30/W45 1kT nuclear warhead, the TLAM-N (capable of carrying a W80 200 kT nuclear warhead 1,200nm), nuclear depth charges, and the Mk 23 “Katie” 16-inch nuclear shell used on the Iowas.

While the Army developed assorted nuclear shells (Mark 33/T317/M422/M454) designed for use in various 8-inch howitzers in land combat, first fielding them in 1957 and keeping them in the arsenal until 1992, I can’t find anything where the Navy did the same for its 8-inch gunned cruisers, which remained in service until

Epilogue

The National Museum of the Pacific War has a plaque, installed by her veterans’ association in 2000, in Toledo’s honor.

Speaking of her veteran’s association, I cannot find a listing for them any longer with what appears to be their website going offline in 2018. The archive is great.

Most of the cruiser’s ornate circa 1945 silver service is on display aboard the museum ship USS Midway (CV-41), having been returned to the city of Toledo briefly after USS Toledo was decommissioned, then, in 1961, being loaned to the USS Spiegel Grove (LSD-32) — named after an Ohio town near the city. From there, the service was then transferred (missing a martini pitcher) to the new supercarrier USS Kitty Hawk (CVA-63) in 1963 with the blessing of the Toledo City Council, due to the Ohio connection with the Wright Brothers. After the “Battle Cat” was decommissioned in 2009, the service was sent by the NHHC to live aboard Midway.

Toledo/Kitty Hawk silver service aboard USS Midway

As for the name, “Toledo” was recycled by the Navy for the 58th Los Angeles-class hunter-killer (SSN-769) a late VLS-equipped 688(i) variant commissioned in 1995. Among other claims to fame, she was observing the ill-fated Russian cruise missile submarine Kursk when the boat suffered its catastrophic incident then took part in the 2003 Iraq War where she launched TLAMs from a station in the eastern Mediterranean.

She is still on active duty, assigned to Portsmouth, Virginia and, since commissioning, has carried two of the old cruiser’s silver platters aboard for special occasions.

USS Toledo (SSN-769) aerial view of the nuclear-powered attack submarine USS Toledo (SSN-769) underway on the surface. Catalog #: L45-284.05.01

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’m a member, so should you be!

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