The Iowan History letter The Iowan History letter
Transcription
The Iowan History letter The Iowan History letter
The Iowan History letter Vol. 2 Number 4 4th Quarter, 2013 Last Duel of the Giants By Brad Goforth The Battle of Surigao Strait was one of four sea battles that made up the Battle of Leyte Gulf, the largest naval battle in history. On 24 October, 1944, in the waters between the islands of Leyte and Mindanao in the Philippines, the last battleship verses battleship engagement in history was fought. By the next morning, a way of fighting between ships that began in the 15th Century would disappear. It was also the end of the battleship as the premier capital ship. The Japanese strategy in the defense of Leyte was to Admiral Halsey (USN) entrap the U.S. Navy’s 7th Fleet by its naval forces from the north in the Sibuyan Sea, and with assault from the south from Surigao Strait. Admiral Halsey and the U.S. Navy’s 3rd Fleet was to be lured northwards, away from the Leyte Strait by a decoy carrier force. The Japanese plan, named Sho-1 (Victory-1), called for the convergence of their two battleship forces from north and south on MacArthur’s landing beach, catching the U.S. troops and invasion ships in a pincer movement. To execute this strategy, the Imperial Japanese Navy formed four task forces under the overall command of Vice Admiral Ozawa, who himself was to lead the decoy carrier force with two battleships, three light cruisers and nine destroyers. The southern and weaker of these battleship forces, commanded by Admiral Ozawa (Public) Rear Admiral Nishimura, would penetrate through Surigao Strait just south of Leyte, tying up the American battleships while the more powerful of the two battleship forces, the Central Force under the command of Vice Admiral Kurita, would penetrate through San Bernardino Strait, sail down the coast of Samar, and fall on the American invasion fleet from the north-east. Admiral Shima with cruisers and destroyers acting as a second striking force Admiral Oldendorf (USN) would follow Nishimura into the Surigao Strait. The commander of the American ships facing Nishimura was Admiral Jesse Oldendorf. Oldendorf believed in massed firepower and overwhelming force. It was his audacity, the use of the basic philosophies of war, and the use of the classic naval tactic of crossing the “T” that defeated the Japanese at Surigao Strait. This played a significant role in winning the Battle of Leyte Gulf and helping to secure the beachheads of the U.S. Sixth Army on Leyte against Japanese attack from the sea. As Admiral Nishimura steamed toward Surigao Strait, he knew that his chances for victory were slim. From his flag ship the Yamashiro, he evaluated the force facing him and knew that the success of the Japanese depended Admiral Nishimura (Public) on his commitment to the Sho-1 Plan. He had to tie up the American fleet committed to his destruction and spare Admiral Kurita’s Center Force. Nishimura counted on the battleships Fuso and the Yamashiro, both World War I era battleships. These ships had spent most of the war in Japan’s Japanese battleship Yamashiro (USN) Inland Sea. At 0905 on 24 October, Nishimura’s Force was sighted by aircraft from the Third Fleet carriers Enterprise and Franklin. Shima’s Second Striking Force was located by a US Army Air Force bomber at 1155. Nishimura was attacked by aircraft at 0918 and inflicted bomb hits on the flagship Yamashiro and on the destroyer Shigure, but these hits caused little damage and Nishimura continued his advance undeterred. Neither Nishimura nor Shima’s force received any further air attacks during daylight on 24 October since Admiral Halsey had transferred Admiral Davison’s fast carrier group to an attack on Admiral Kurita’s Centre Force. Admiral Kinkaid and his staff correctly surmised that the Japanese Southern Force would attempt to reach Leyte Gulf through Surigao Strait, and alerted Rear Admiral Oldendorf, commanding the bombardment and fire support group. Oldendorf was ordered to the northern entrance of Surigao Strait with his very powerful force to prepare to meet the enemy ships. After Rear Admiral Oldendorf had formed his battle plan, and on the afternoon of 24 October, thirty-nine torpedo-boats moved at high speed, through Leyte Gulf and Surigao Strait, into the Mindanao Sea south of Leyte, and by dusk were in position on their patrol-lines to give warning of the oncoming ships and be available to launch torpedo attacks. With no night patrol assets from the air, Oldendorf was depending on the motor-torpedo boats. Nishimura, advancing towards Surigao Strait, received a signal that Kurita’s powerful Centre Force had been delayed by heavy air attacks in the Sibuyan Sea, which meant the Nishimura could not hope to Battleships Fuso and Yamashiro (USN) be supported by Kurita in his attack on Leyte Gulf. At 2236, PT-131 off the island of Bohol made visual contact at a range of three miles, and shortly after were sighted by Shigure. After being driven off by heavy gunfire, the PT boats finally got in a report. It reached Oldendorf at 0026 on October 25 and was the first concrete information of the enemy’s position received by the Admiral since 1000 the previous morning. At 2230 Nishimura radioed Kurita and Shima that he was advancing as scheduled while destroying the attacking enemy torpedo boats. At about 0400 Nishimura’s heavy ships assumed its line formation for the approach to Leyte Gulf. In the lead were two destroyers. Four kilometers behind them were the USS Hutchins, Desron 24 flagship (USN) PT-131 and her crew (center)(USN) two battleships and the cruiser Mogami in line ahead, with a destroyer on each flank. As the battle between Nishimura and the PT boats was ending, the battle between his force and the American destroyers began. The first destroyer grouping to attack Nishimura was that of Captain Jesse Coward, who led three ships of Destroyer Squadron 54, down both sides of the strait. Behind Coward followed six destroyers The Iowan History Letter 4th Quarter 2013 Page 2 Battleship Fuso and cruiser Mogami maneuvering (USN) from Captain McManes’s Destroyer Squadron 24. The Battle of Surigao Strait was effectively joined at 0200 on the 25th. As Nishimura’s force steamed filed up the center of the strait, the destroyers executed their battle plan firing salvos of torpedoes at ranges of about four miles. At 0319, Captain McManus, commanding Destroyer Squadron 24 on the right flank, closed for the attack. Captain McManus’s was placed in charge of the attacking group. He was aboard USS Hutchins, a 2,100 ton destroyer that was the first of her class to be outfitted with a Combat Information Center (CIC). This new CIC provided a plot of gunnery, torpedo, and ship movement plot information that him the best possible presentation of the overall battle space in order to make decisions. In fact, Captain McManus, fought from CIC as opposed to the traditional location of the commander on the bridge of the ship. Torpedoes from the destroyers were seemingly everywhere. Yamagumo was struck by a torpedo from USS McDermut and provided illumination for other Japanese battleship Fuso (USN) attacks. At 0325, USS Killen launched five torpedoes at Yamashiro at a range of 8,700 yards with one hit that slowed Yamashiro temporarily to 5 knots. Within 15 seconds, five more torpedoes were launched by USS Beale aimed at Yamashiro - all missed. Captain McManus’s section closed south at 25 knots to a position off of Amagusan Point, reversed his course and fired a spread of 15 torpedoes between 0329 and 0336, at ranges from 8,200 to 10,700 yards. Beginning just after 0325, another wave of American destroyers had begun attacking the Japanese formation with torpedoes and gunfire. Some of their shells started a fire in Yamashiro’s superstructure, but they were driven off by the battleship’s 5.5” secondary battery. However, at 0340, Mogami’s record states: “Direct torpedo hit observed on Yamashiro (apparently near the bow).” The next entry describes how Mogami herself was struck by shells in the same moment, and her No.3 turFuso under fire (USN) ret disabled. At 0340, all three of Captain McManus’s destroyers commenced gunfire on the retiring Michishio and Asagumo. From long range, Remey, McGowan and Melvin opened the battle with a salvo of 27 “fish.” USS Melvin was credited with sinking the battleship Fuso with torpedoes. Melvin’s torpedo broke Fuso in half and the wreckage drifted southward, the bow eventually sinking approximately 0420 and the stern within an hour. Captain McManus turned his destroyers to continue attacks on the fleeing ships that turned south, when Rear Admiral Berkey passed a radio message at 0349 ordering all Destroyer Squadron 24 ships to “knock it off ” and retire. At 0350, while turning to retire, USS Hutchins fired another spread of five torpedoes in the direction of Asagumo. Asagumo had changed course and Michishio, badly damaged, drifted into the path of The Iowan History Letter 4th Quarter 2013 Page 3 USS Mississippi (USN) the torpedoes and at 0358 she took all five torpedoes squarely, blew up, and sank immediately. Rear Admiral Oldendorf then threw Captain Smoot and Destroyer Squadron 56 into the action. Splitting the squadron in three groups, all three sections turned south in column and sped at 25 knots, assuming positions on the bow of the approaching ships. At 0345, Section 2 was spotted by enemy lookouts and came under fire. Between 0354 and 0359, Section 2 fired five torpedoes at ranges from 8,380 to 9,000 yards - all missed. Section 3 closed and opened fire between 0357 and 0359 at ranges from 7,800 to 8,000 yards at targets of Shigure and Yamashiro. Both enemy ships made drastic turns to evade the approaching torpedoes - all torpedoes missed, and both enemy ships took Section 3 under fire. Section 3 was then retiring while making smoke and no enemy salvoes hit their targets. Section 3 retired toward Leyte and hugged the coastline heading north. USS Tennessee (USN) Section 1 was bearing down the middle of the strait but was having trouble with their radar picture. At 0404, USS Richard P. Leary fired 3, USS Newcomb, and USS Albert W. Grant both fired five torpedoes each at ranges approximately 6,200 yards from the target. Two large explosions were registered on Yamashiro at 30 seconds past 0411. The destroyers retired to the north as the main gunfire from the Japanese was already raining all around his ships USS West Virginia (USN) from the battleships and cruisers on the battle line to the north. During this entire time, three additional sections of American warships were patrolling to the north, making east west runs northwest of Hibuson Island, forming a heavy duty cork in the bottle of the strait. The first section, stationed on the right flank, was Rear Admiral Berkey with the two light cruisers USS Boise, USS Phoenix, and H.M.A.S. Shropshire. Approximately six miles to Berkey’s east was the group commanded by Rear Admiral Oldendorf of USS Louisville, USS Portland, USS Minneapolis, USS Denver, and USS Columbia. Still four miles further north, the battleships USS Mississippi, USS California, USS Tennessee, USS West Virginia, USS Maryland, and USS Pennsylvania – all veterans of Pearl Harbor – lay in wait. Each had been resurrected and refitted and were eager to get in their blows. The battleships had formed a battle line crossing the “T” of the incoming Japanese warships. At 0323, a radio message was sent out to the old battleships ordering them to open fire when ranges were 26,000 yards. At 0353 USS California (USN) the Battle Line got its chance and opened fire on Yamashiro, Shigure, and Mogami. USS West Virginia, USS Tennessee, and USS California were all outfitted with the latest, cutting edge, fire control radar sets and had fire control solutions passed to main battery plot long before the enemy came within range. At 0353, USS West Virginia opened fire raining down 93 rounds of 16 inch armor piercing projectiles. Within two minutes, USS Ten- The Iowan History Letter 4th Quarter 2013 Page 4 Japanese battleship illuminated by searchlights (USN) nessee and USS California opened concentrated fire in six gun salvoes and would fire 63 and 69 rounds respectively. The other three battleships had older fire control systems and had trouble ranging the targets. USS Maryland, however, fired 48 rounds commencing at 0359, walking her rounds on target using spotter information from splashes from USS West Virginia’s fall of shot. USS Mississippi would fire but a single salvo on target information, and USS Pennsylvania never managed to get a fire control solution and wouldn’t fire a single round. As the Battle Line turned to a westerly course, USS Mississippi fired a full salvo in the direction of the enemy - noted that they may have been clearing their main batteries at the moment when Rear Admiral Oldendorf had ordered Cease Fire. At 0351, the Left Flank cruiser USS Denver, opened fire and within a minute was followed by rounds from USS Minneapolis, USS Columbia, and USS Portland, all ships pouring gunfire on battleship Yamashiro. At 0358, USS Portland shifted fire to Mogami, who was attempting to retire south. At the same time, USS Denver, shifted fire to Shigure. 0353, USS Boise shifted firing rate to rapid and continuous on Yamashiro, while USS Phoenix fired 15 gun salvoes at quarter minute intervals on the same target. Rear Admiral Berkey then ordered USS Boise to slow her rate of fire in order to conserve ammunition. H.M.A.S. Shropshire was having trouble with her fire control system and didn’t open up with 8 inch fire until 0356, and while the formation made their turn to a westerly course, shifted firing rate to rapid Admiral Shima (Public) and continuous and was joined by the remaining formation cruisers at 0400. All three groups continued fire and as the allied groups closed range to each other and the enemy the rounds landed with increasing accuracy. Yamashiro had, at this point, changed course from north to west by south. Heavy cruiser Mogami had turned south to retire, while destroyer Shigure sheered east near Hibuson Island and surprisingly only suffered one hit, an 8 inch shell that failed to explode. At 0409, Rear Admiral Oldendorf radioed for all ships to cease fire. At 0419, Yamashiro capsized taking Vice Admiral Nishimura with her. Heavy cruiser Mogami had taken an incredible number of hits and was making smoke and retiring south when, at 0402, a salvo from Japanese heavy cruiser Mogami (USN) USS Portland exploded on her bridge killing her Commanding Officer, Captain R. Tooma, as well as her Executive Officer - she slowed to bare steerageway. Up until then, Vice Admiral Shima had been sailing “fat, dumb and happy” into the southern end of the strait. His force of heavy cruisers Nachi, and Ashigara, light cruiser Abukuma, and destroyers Akebono, Ushio, Kasumi, Shiranuhi, Wakaba, Hatsushimo, and Hatsuharu entered the action at 0315. The Iowan History Letter 4th Quarter 2013 Page 5 PT-321 picks up Japanese survivors (USN) At 0320, Vice Admiral Shima ordered his formation east to clear Binit Point. At 0325, as the formation was still on their easterly course, Abukuma suffered a torpedo hit on her port side from PT-137. Vice Admiral Shima then turned his disposition north, and at 0410 encountered the burning hulk of Fuso in two pieces. Despite this ominous warning, he continued on course. Vice Admiral Shima’s force detected targets to the northeast and prepared for torpedo attack, firing at 0424 at a range of 9,000 yards - all torpedoes missed their targets and two torpedoes were later recovered after beaching on Hibuson Island. At 0425, Vice Admiral Shima, seeing more of the destruction on Nishimura’s force, turned south, passing a radio message Vice Admiral Mikawa informing him of the conclusion of present action and retirement for planning of further attacks. While transiting south, heavy cruiser Nachi encountered the disabled Mogami and believed her to be dead in the water and, in an inexplicable display of poor seamanship, failed to avoid her. Both cruisers collided at 0430. Mogami would fall into the column heading south and run afoul of Motor Torpedo Boat Section 11, attacking and causing slight damage to PT-321. As dawn broke on 25 October, the Battle of Surigao Strait was over. While units of the 7th Fleet battled for their lives against Vice Admiral Kurita’s A’ Force at Leyte Gulf, and Adm. Halsey went after Osawa’s decoy force, Radm Oldendorf ’s task force headed west through the strait looking for survivors, many Japanese in the water refused to be rescued by Allied warships. For the Japanese, the Battle of Surigao Strait was a total defeat, with the loss of every ship in Vice Admi- ral Nishimura’s force except Shigure, and the failure to attack the invasion fleet at Leyte Gulf. The Japanese losses at Surigao Strait, along with the Japanese defeats at Battle of the Sibuyan Sea, the Battle of Samar Island and the Battle of Cape Engano, was the last time the Imperial Japanese Navy conducted fleet size operations. After the battle, there was widespread praise of Rear Admiral Oldendorf and his plans and actions at Surigao Strait. The destruction of Nishimura’s Force by Oldendorf and his ships were textbook maneuvers of the ages, from ‘Line Ahead’ to ‘Crossing the ‘T’’, but it was the last time battleships would make them. Already the new Queen of the Seas was the aircraft carrier. After Surigao Strait, the use of battleships as a front line warPT boat damage from the battle (USN) ship would disappear. By the 1950’s they would be relegated to shore bombardment and at the end of the decade no country had a battleship in service. The use battleships would be seen again with the recommissioning of the Iowa class battleship USS New Jersey (BB-62) and her deployment during the Vietnam War and of USS Iowa and her sister ships in the 1980’s, with USS Missouri (BB-63) and USS Wisconsin (BB-64) seeing combat during Operation Desert Storm, not only on the shore bombardment role, but as missile platforms for the Tomahawk cruise missile. Surigao Strait was a defining moment in naval warfare. Yet during the battle, the historic true horror of heavy caliber gun duels in naval warfare was seen, possibly for the last time. The damage done to the Yamashiro and Mogami by Jesse Oldendorf ’s battle line of 14 and 16-inch guns was devastating. The Battle of Surigao Strait was the final gasp of another time. It is fitting that the last gunfight in which battleships would engage each other occurred as part of a classic surface-to-surface action was during the largest naval battle the world has ever seen. Fitting too, that these magnificent vessels of war, are still with us in museums worldwide. The Iowan History Letter 4th Quarter 2013 Page 6 The loss of IJN Katori Victim of Iowa’s Wrath By Brad Goforth During the Second World War, USS Iowa played a major role in the Pacific. One of the most significant was called Operation Hailstone – the attack on Truk. During that time, Iowa was attached to Task Force 58, consisting of five fleet carriers and four light carriers, supported by six battleships, ten cruisers and 28 destroyers. Task Force 58 launched air attacks on airfields, shore installations and ships in Truk lagoon. Truk lagoon during Operation Hailstone (USN) In that battle, Iowa sank a cruiser and injured a destroyer. The ship she sank had led a colorful career in the Japanese Navy. IJN Katori, was the lead ship of the Katori class of three light cruisers which served with the Imperial Japanese Navy during World War II. It is named after the noted Shinto Katori Shrine in Chiba prefecture, Japan. These cruisers were originally ordered to serve as training ships, but with the war in the Pacific, they were used as administrative flagships for various fleets, such as submarine command and control, and to command escort squadrons. The ships were upgraded as the war progressed with additional Vice Admiral Mitsumi anti-aircraft guns and depth Shimizu (Public) charges. These ships carried Japanese cruiser Katori (Public) an interesting hodge-podge of 6” and 5” guns, and a mixed power plant of steam boilers and diesels. They were capable of making 18 knots flat out. The United States eventually sank all three ships. Katori was completed at the Mitsubishi Yokohama shipyards on April 20, 1940, and was based at nearby Yokosuka. On November 11, 1941 Vice Admiral Mitsumi Shimizu, Commander, Sixth Fleet (Submarines) convened a briefing of his commanders aboard the Sixth Fleet’s flagship, Katori, on the planned attack on Pearl Harbor. Katori departed for Truk on November 24, 1941. At the time of the Pearl Harbor attack, Katori was at Kwajalein in the Marshall Islands. On December 10, 1941, the submarine I-6 reported sighting the USS Lexington (CV-2) and two cruisers heading northeast, and Vice Admiral Shimizu ordered his submarines to pursue and sink the carrier, but it escaped. Katori returned to Truk by the end of 1941, and on January 3, 1942, Vice Admiral Shimizu held a briefing to discuss the details of the invasion plans for “Operation R” (the invasions of Rabaul and Kavieng), which took place January 23 – 24, 1942. On 1 February 1942, Katori came under attack at Kwajalein by Douglas “Dauntless” SBDs of VB-6 and VS-6 and TBD Devastators from the USS Enterprise (CV-6). Vice Admiral Shimizu was wounded in the raid, and Katori sustained enough damage to warrant a return to Yokosuka for repairs. It returned to Kwajalein in May, where on 24 May 1942, the new admiral, Japanese destroyer Maikaze (Public) The Iowan History Letter 4th Quarter 2013 Page 7 Katori, hit and on fire. (USN) Destroyer Nowaki (Archives) of the Sixth Fleet (Submarines) Vice Admiral Marquis Teruhisa Komatsu, ordered Captain Sasaki Hankyu detachment of midget submarines to stage the Attack on Sydney Harbour. Katori returned briefly to Yokosuka in August, 1942, for upgrading with two twin Type 96 25 mm antiaircraft guns, which were fitted in the forward part of the bridge. It then returned to Truk, where it continued to be based (with occasional returns to Yokosuka). On June 23, 1943, Vice Admiral Takeo Takagi assumed command of the Sixth Fleet (Submarines), but after the fall of Kwajalein, Katori was reassigned to the General Escort Command. In February, 1944, Katori had departed Truk shortly before the attack at 0430, escorting the armed merchant cruiser Akagi Maru, destroyers Maikaze and Nowaki, and minesweeping trawler Shonan Maru No. 15 towards Yokosuka. During the transit, they came under attack by Grumman F6F Hellcat fighters and TBF Avenger torpedo-bombers from Yorktown, Intrepid, Bunker Hill and Cowpens. The Akagi Maru was sunk and Katori hit by a torpedo which did minor damage. However, several hours later, Iowa, along with her sister New Jersey, cruisers Minneapolis and New Orleans and destroyers Bradford and Burns spotted the Katori group. The screening destroyers fired six salvos of torpedoes at Katori, but all torpedoes missed. Katori responded with a salvo of torpedoes which were equally ineffective. Akagi Maru (Archives) During this engagement, the Commander, Fifth Fleet, Admiral Raymond A. Spruance flew his flag aboard New Jersey and ordered the ship to engage the Maikaze at 7,000 yards. Maikaze fired a spread of torpedoes that passed between New Jersey and Iowa following in trail. Later, gunfire from Minneapolis and New Orleans started a fire aft that probably exploded one of the destroyer’s magazines. At 1343, Maikaze, still firing, sank with all hands. New Jersey later sank Shonan Maru No. 15 with her port side five-inch battery. Forty miles northwest of Truk. Iowa engaged Katori and fired forty-six 16-inch high capacity (nonarmor piercing) rounds and 124 five-inch shells. She straddled Katori with all eight salvos. Katori launched a salvo of torpedoes at the Iowa, but missed again. Just after Iowa’s fifth salvo, Katori quickly listed to port exposing seven large shell holes about five feet in diameter in her starboard side, one under the bridge about five feet below the waterline and the others amidships about at the waterline, plus about nine small holes. The damage on the port side was much worse. After being under attack by the Iowa for only 11 minutes, Katori sank stern first, with a port side list about 40 miles northwest of Truk. A large group of survivors were seen in the water after she sank, but the Americans did not recover any. Cdr. Moriya Setsuji’s destroyer Nowaki desperately IJN Katori sinking (USN) The Iowan History Letter 4th Quarter 2013 Page 8 tried to flee the onslaught. Both American battleships - the fastest in the world - give chase at 32.5 knots. At 35,000 yards, New Jersey and Iowa open fire and straddle Nowaki with their first salvos. Nowaki tried to escape into the sun’s glare, but at 38,000 yards both battleships opened fire under radar control. At 22 miles, these are the longest range shots ever fired by American battleships against an enemy vessel. At 39,000 yards, Admiral Spruance ordered a Cease Fire. Nowaki escaped and eventually made her way back to Yokosuka. The attacks for the most part ended Truk as a major threat to Allied operations in the central Pacific; the Japanese garrison on Eniwetok was denied any realistic hope of reinforcement and support during the invasion that began on February 18, 1944, greatly assisting U.S. forces in their conquest of that island. The Japanese later relocated about 100 of their remaining aircraft to Truk. These aircraft were attacked by U.S. carrier forces in another attack on April 29–30, 1944 which destroyed most of them. The April 1944 strikes found no shipping in Truk lagoon and were the last major attacks on Truk during the war. Truk was isolated by Allied forces as they continued their advance towards Japan by invading other Pacific islands such as Guam, Saipan, Palau, and Iwo Jima. Cut off, the Japanese forces on Truk, like on other central Pacific islands, ran low on food and faced starvation before Japan surrendered in August, 1945. Akagi Maru today (Public) Remembrances I was assigned to the USS Iowa from camp Wallace in the winter of 1944. The ship was in dry dock at Hunter’s Point and frankly was not the most impressive location for a ship. Her main deck was just about at ground level making the ship look smaller than she was. I was certainly no expert on naval war ships so my first impression did not have much of a reference point. I was a radioman fresh from radio school in Los Angeles. I was assigned a sleeping quarters forward of the sixteen inch guns and two decks down. We were stacked at least four high but my memory wants to say it was more. Air circulation was a problem in the this quarters because we had one air intake and the exhaust was the stairwell. This was to be a storage compartment in peacetime but we were crowded in there pretty tight. We all bought small electric fans six inches in diameter and suspended them upside down at the end of our bunk from the mattress springs above us. There must not have been a fuse box because we had more fans hooked to an outlet than you can believe and we did not lose power with all of them running at the same time. It took an inner ear adjustment to sleep in this space because when you were under way the compartment not only went up and down but it shuddered side to side. Once used to it you were rocked to sleep. During our stay in San Francisco the ship held a dance at some hotel and we had a great time before rejoining the fleet at Ulithi Atoll, the staging area for the Okinawa campaign. My battle station was perhaps the best one on the ship. It was the flying bridge, an open deck situated six or seven decks high. The only thing above us were the range finders and it provided a great view of the war. Used as a secondary conning tower for times when channel entry was required we had nothing to do when Watercolor of Iowa’s Secondwe were under attack but ary conn by Bob Hurmence The Iowan History Letter 4th Quarter 2013 Page 9 watch the action. I have written a book, THE FLYING BRIDGE, available on Amazon for the Kindle and Nook. It covers my experiences on board the USS IOWA as well as time spent on the USS TOPEKA. I paint in watercolor as a hobby and did one of the secondary conning tower as I remember it. Bob Hurmence Leo Sicard Iowa was the BIGGEST thing I ever seen. We were the first guys on her and we thought we would never get to the end of the ship. It seemed like you walked a mile from one end to the other. After we got onboard belowdecks, we didn’t know the front from the back until we learned the frame numbers. Numbers 1-300. B235LA was the first frame number we all learned. It was the mess hall. I was berthed on the main deck in 7th division, midships on the starboard side by the motor whaleboat. I worked on the deck on the starboard side as a 20 mm gunner, in gun 52, on the main deck aft, and in turret 3. After 1 year, I transferred to B division working on #5 and #6 boilers. What was it like getting underway for the first time? One word, “sea sick.” But there were good times. Going through the Panama Canal was a sight to see. There was a flotilla of submarines when we entered the Pacific. The USS Iowa was the biggest Battleship anyone had ever seen. I was aboard when Iowa transported President Roosevelt to Casablanca. No one saw the President come aboard. It was during the middle of the night. He boarded on Hamden Roads in the Atlantic away from land. No one knew he was going to be coming on board except for the captain and the executive officers. An elevator was installed on the main deck to the Captains stateroom. It went from the main deck to the 2nd deck Starboard side by the 5” gun mount. A bathtub for the President was installed while the ship was docked in Norfolk Va. ADM King, ADM Leahy, GEN Marshall, GEN Watson came aboard as well. After we were out to sea, the dignitaries were like one of the crew. After picking up the President we went through the Strait of Gibraltar, where the Portuguese turned a search light on the ship… our Captain quickly advised them to turn off that light or we will blow it up!! Probably the most memorable event was a stray torpedo that was fired from the William D. Porter. We were on General Quarters when we got fired on during a drill. We were firing the 20 mm guns at the torpedo and while firing Leo Sicard today shot off the lifeline near the catapult. Thankfully the Captain was able to make a sharp turn while doing 25 knots and the torpedo blew up in the Iowa’s wake. The President was watching this from the bridge on the starboard side. The torpedo scared the whole ship. When you see a torpedo coming at you, you don’t know what’s going to happen. I was asked to aid the President, I helped transfer him from the Gazelle to the Iowa and pushed him on board the ship in his wheel chair. Of course the Presidents trip was confidential. We were not allowed to tell anyone where we were or what we were doing. Leo Sicard The Iowan History Letter 4th Quarter 2013 Page 10 Newly Discovered Photo Of USS Iowa Adaptations For FDR Casablanca Trip Andrew Bossenmeyer, Pacific Battleship Center Seventy years after President Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s voyage aboard Battleship IOWA to the Tehran Conference, a rare photograph has surfaced showing how the ship was adapted for the wheelchair-bound wartime leader. According to historians, the image clearly indicates the specially built elevator that transported FDR between decks on the iconic warship. FDR sailed aboard Battleship IOWA to confer with British Prime Minister Winton Churchill and Soviet Premier Joseph Stalin in November 1943. The allied leaders met for the first time as the “Big Three” at Tehran. It was at this conference that the plans were finalized for the D-Day invasion the following June, and where General Dwight D. Eisenhower was named Supreme Allied Commander of the Normandy invasion. “Finding anything from this trip is significant to the ship’s heritage,” said David Way, Battleship IOWA museum curator. “A photo of the elevator is particularly important because it shows how extensively IOWA was modified to accommodate President Roosevelt on his voyage to the Tehran Conference.” Way is currently working with the National Archives to secure official authentication of the photograph, and to conduct additional research. In the photograph, the elevator shaft is seen just forward of amidships on the starboard side. The pho- The Iowan History Letter 4th Quarter 2013 Page 11 tograph also shows Battleship IOWA bristling with armament in its original WWII configuration –150 barrels of various sizes (including the 16” main guns) are brandished along the ship’s decks. Little is known of this topsecret journey through perilous German U-boat patrol zones, so the rarity of the photography speaks volumes. To maintain complete secrecy, no cameras were allowed on the ship and no known records of the elevator’s construction have ever been located. According to the declassified document, the photograph was taken November 12, 1943 from a Navy dirigible assigned to Blimp Squadron 14 (ZP144069) based at the Naval Air Station in Weeksville, North Carolina. Also known as “The African Squadron,” the blimps mission was to provide anti-submarine reconnaissance for the surface fleet. The photograph was immediately tagged “Confidential” and its existence unknown until it was declassified in 1964. Author L. Douglas Keeney discovered the photograph at the Navy Bureau of Aeronautics Library while researching his upcoming book “Ten Days to Tehran,” which recounts this historic voyage. Once the photograph is officially authenticated it will be included in the ship’s permanent collection and exhibited in Battleship IOWA’s Captain’s Cabin. This compartment was modified for FDR with larger hatches, an enclosed veranda deck space, and the only bathtubs ever installed on a United States Naval warship for a U.S. President. All currently featured on the public tour now open daily from 10:00 am to 5:00 pm. The Pacific Battleship Center (PBC), the nonprofit organization that operates Battleship IOWA, is developing plans to improve access for guests needing assistance. “Nothing is more heartbreaking than to turn away WWII veterans and other service members who are unable to safely board,” said Jonathan Williams, President of PBC. “This project will honor President Roosevelt, IOWA’s more famous crewmember.” Celebrating a Birthday Aboard Iowa By Dick Blair I had a fantastic party on the IOWA Saturday, 17 August, 2013, celebrating my 80th birthday and 5th onboard the IOWA. I brought along three posters I made highlighting some of the adventures onboard the IOWA from 1952-1956. Dick Blair and his cake(s) I also brought threecruisebooks, an album, a picture of the whole IOWA crew from 1955, in Norfolk, Virginia, under the command of Captain William R. Bryson, several loose pictures, and book with IOWA pictures during the mMove from Richmond, California, to San Pedro, California. I also had a large Scrapbook I have been putting together since the move. Was in my glory, as my exhibit went over well with the visitors to IOWA, and I spent 5 hours, ignoring my own party of thirty! (Love it when I can go into my navy recruiting mode!) We actually had Cake to share with some of the visitors (1000+) on Saturday. I wish all the Old Vets could have their day on the IOWA! A young couple came by (30’s) and he saw the 1955 cruisebook, and asked if I knew his dad, who he had tried to bring along that Saturday. I said let’s look him up, and we found him, which was great for them. So as he looked further in the cruisebook he found another picture of his dad on a tour in Athens, Greece! (Small world) I had Shore Patrol on the tour, and was standing right next to his dad! It was a big highlight for both of us! The family had arranged a special lower decks tour The Iowan History Letter 4th Quarter 2013 Page 12 Celebrities in the Navy Robert Montgomery Dick Blair and his Iowa display three decks down! The IOWA staff escorted us and it was another highlight of my day. Unfortunately I have suffered the consequences of stiff legs and couldn’t walk for four days. My daughter put the whole thing together and picked up the admission tag for my guests. Richard H. (Dick) Blair, PN2 “EX Division” 19521956 Brian Moss and Dick Blair at the bow of USS Iowa Remembrances continued on page 20 Robert Montgomery was already an Oscar winning actor before the Second World War; having started in motion pictures in 1929. By 1935, Montgomery had become President of the Screen Actors Guild, and was elected again in 1946. In 1937, he was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Robert Montgomery (RKO) Actor as a psychopath in the chiller Night Must Fall, then returned to playing light comedy roles, such as Alfred Hitchcock’s Mr. and Mrs. Smith (1941) with Carole Lombard, but continued his search for dramatic roles. He was again nominated for an Oscar in 1942 for Here Comes Mr. Jordan. After World War II broke out in Europe, Montgomery enlisted in London for American field service and drove ambulances in France until the Dunkirk evacuation. Upon America’s entrance into the war, Montgomery joined the U.S. Navy and served as Naval Attaché on British destroyers hunting U-boats. He attended torpedo boat school and became a PT boat commander. He later served on the USS Barton DD722 which was part of the D-Day invasion on June 6, 1944. In 1945, he returned to Hollywood, and put some of his experiences to good use, making his uncredited directing debut with They Were Expendable. According to Turner Classic Movies host Ben Mankiewicz, during filming director John Ford, a well-known taskmaster, was especially hard on The Iowan History Letter 4th Quarter 2013 Page 13 The Crackerjacks’ History Isn’t Just a Sea Story Buttons by Joe Bartlett (All Hands Magazine, 1992) PT Boats maneuver in They Were Expendable Wayne, who did not serve in the armed forces. When Ford had health problems, he turned to Montgomery – who had actually commanded a PT boat – to take over for him, temporarily--as director--rather than Wayne. Montgomery did so well that within a few years, he began directing films. The movie was a story of the exploits of Motor Torpedo Boat Squadron Three, a PT boat unit defending the Philippines against Japanese invasion during the Battle Lieutenant Robert Montgomery of the Philippines (USN) (1941–42) in World War II. It features the unit’s commanding officer and Medal of Honor recipient Lieutenant John D. Bulkeley, and Lieutenant (j.g.) Robert Kelly, one of his boat skippers. Montgomery served five years of active war duty, was awarded a Bronze Star, the Good Conduct Medal, the American Defense Service Ribbon, the European Theater Ribbon with two Battle Stars, one Overseas Service Bar, and promoted to the rank of Lt. Commander. In 1954, Montgomery took an unpaid position as consultant and coach to President Dwight D. Eisenhower, advising him on how to look his best in his television appearances before the nation. A pioneering media consultant, Montgomery had an office in the White House during this time. Concern has echoed throughout the male ranks of the fleet. It’s not concern for their pay they voice, nor complaints of the demanding work load they endure. These guardians of the seas feel threatened by a rumored change in Navy policy - a change that would strike them “below the belt.” It’s a change of enormous consequence to these members of a Navy associated with hundreds of years of tradition, symbolism and legend. This is a fearful removal of the one thing that supports these seamen and petty officers in their daily mission as members of the world’s finest Navy. These men in blue vocalize distress over the button shortage. Not just any button, mind you - the Navy button. That small, black, anchor-imprinted jewel which, along with 12 of its cousins, comprise the only means used to anchor the lower half of the world’s most widely-recognized uniform, the “crackerjacks.” This shortage can only mean on thing, according to rumor control - there is a move afoot to install zippers. Gad! Why all this brouhaha over a button? To a “landlubber” this may appear trivial, but these “salts” depend on this opaque fastener to display a uniform that today contains countless symbols of tradition and American naval history. If the zipper lobby in Washington is successful, it will strip thousands of seamen and petty officers of one of the most priceless articles of Navy lore. This must stop! Think of what this Uniforms, mid 1800s could do to the American button industry, not to mention those associated The Iowan History Letter 4th Quarter 2013 Page 14 with the button - buttonholers, button artists, button tailors, etc. - and not to mention Aunt Ruth’s button box that’s already overflowing with these outdated closure devices. Yes, Navy buttons have held the fleet together for nearly two centuries, while promoting jobs and the economy. And after Uniform, early 1800s the button, what goes next? Just look back at what happened before the button to see what an instrumental affect it’s had on U.S. maritime security. In 1817, after 42 years of confusion over enlisted men’s attire, the War Department finally dared to enforce a uniform regulation for its rag-clad naval force, demanding that enlisted men wear “blue jackets and trousers, red vest with yellow buttons and a black hat.” The War Department neglected to mention shoes, and a largely barefoot and blister-filled enlisted force patrolled the world’s oceans until the grandfather of crackerjacks was name the official uniform in 1864. This uniform is considered the world’s most recognized as a symbol of America’s strength, good will and dedication to freedom, according to Marine Corps Col. Robert H. Rankin in his book Uniforms of the Sea Services. This popularity has raised questions over the years as to the origins of the crackerjack’s design. Many interpretations of each facet of this uniform have been rendered by salts over the years. The buttons are probably the most talked about and revered aspect of naval garb for the past five or six wars. Buttons swiftly replaced the previous trouser’s string tie, apparently after years of barefoot sailors hanging themselves - or their friends - in frustration after trying to keep their pants up. Then, in 1864, crackerjack trousers were designed with a “broadfall,” or flap, held in place by seven of these easily replaced fasteners. After a slight length increase of the broadfall in 1894 - possibly linked to the average sailor’s weight six buttons were added for symmetrical design and to prevent an unwanted unveiling of the wearer. Members of the Navy since 1894 have capitalized on numerous explanations for the coincidental number of buttons on the broadfall, the only publishable one being that they represent the original 13 colonies of America defended so efficiently by the Continental Navy. This romantic notion is widely accepted by seagoers, and rebuttal may be swiftly greeted by either heated debate or a knuckle sandwich. The best yarn spinners strengthen their case by pointing out that uniform designers hid the 14th button (known as the stealth button) behind the broadfall so the buttoncolony connections would still be supported - not to mention their trousers. Ah, but frustration still ran throughout the nowbuttoned-up fleet, as buttons couldn’t do the whole job, apparently. So, in memory of those valiant barefoot mariners who had hung themselves two paragraphs ago, a string tie was added in the back. This would effectively cinch the wearer’s waist inside a woolen vise, while enhancing physical flexibility and coordination as sailors attempted tightening this shoe-like rearward device without tying their Uniform in 1900 hands behind their backs. Now, really, how can you spin a yarn about a zipper? Button lore is only one aspect of Navy uniform mystique. The mystery of the bell-bottom trousers is explained by Rankin as merely a design used by Navy tailors in the 1800s to set Navy attire apart from civilian styles prior to introduction of actual uniform The Iowan History Letter 4th Quarter 2013 Page 15 regulations. These tailors unknowingly provided a great service with this design, which mariners claim was invented to keep the trousers’ legs dry after they were rolled up above the knees during shipboard duties. A great safety element emerged when it was discovered a water-soaked sailor who happened to find himself no longer aboard could easily remove the 20 to 30 pounds of saturated wool without removing his now-standard shoes, which he would desperately need to protect his feet if he avoided becoming shark bait and made landfall. The three strands of pristine piping around the cuffs and collar of the uniform’s top, or jumper, were added in 1866 as the first clear designation of an enlisted man’s rank. Until then, piping was used to break up the color of the uniform, along with stars and other assorted accoutrements. When an 1841 regulation instituted an eagle atop an anchor to designate petty officers, the piping custom continued until the Navy decided to let it add to rank designations. Three strands represented petty officers and senior seamen, and two for second class seamen and firemen. A single strand was used to identify a seaman or fireman third class or coal-heaver (not a very popular rating). The three strands were retained by the Navy when the display of rank went to the upper left arm. Today the most imaginative of sailors can describe this piping as representative of the three major victories of either John Paul Jones or Commodore Oliver Hazard Perry, depending on which sea dog you happen to ask. Now, I’m sure you’ve heard that the black necker- USS Mare Island, 1898 (USN) chief is a symbol of mourning for Admiral Lord Nelson, Britain’s greatest admiral who died at Trafalgar after defeating the French and Spanish fleets in 1805. Good story, but neckerchiefs were around long before Nelson as a bandanna to Enlisted uniform early 1900s (USN) guard against the scorching sun at sea. The silk neckerchief, with Navyissue square knot, crept into the uniform as early as 1817. Even today, many sailors use a coin placed in the center of the square cloth to keep its shape rounded as they meticulously roll it prior to tying. The use of this coin has generated a mystical tale stemming from the ancient Roman practice of placing a coin beneath the masts during shipbuilding. This coin would buy Roman sailors passage from the mythological “ferryman” across the river Styx, between the world of the living and the dead, in case they perished at sea. Referencing this fable, a few salts remark that they’re prepared to pay the price, patting the backs of their necks where their toll is snugly hidden. The one aspect of the crackerjacks that has not been dashed as a yarn is the collar flap. The collar of the jumper was extended to a nine-inch flap in the late 1800s, replacing the previous wide collar to which a flap was fastened by, guess what? - buttons. This signifies a tradition held over from the days of tall ships, before the Navy employed haircut regulations. Linehandlers would pull their hair back in ponytail fashion and then apply a tarry substance to prevent any strands from flying loose and becoming entangled or ripped out during the complicated and dangerous linehandling maneuvers that kept their ship at full sail. The flap would attach to the collar, thus keeping the mass of tar and hair away from The Iowan History Letter 4th Quarter 2013 Page 16 USS Iowa crew, 1898. Note the rolled Dixie Cups. (USN) the sailor’s uniform. It also protected his girlfriend’s furniture by careful placement of the flap over the back of the couch or chair between hair and upholstery. When the flap became a permanent fixture on the collar, the neckerchief came in handy to keep the uniform, and the furniture, tar-free. Finally, the dixie cup. No, King George or Harry did not wake up one day and issue an edict, “let all Navy enlisted men don a cap that can double as a royal frisbee.” Though the gliding properties of a properly rolled dixie cup startle even NASA scientists, this is not how the white hat evolved. In fact, the whole process was not at all entertaining - it makes too much sense. Remember the “black hat” from 1817 regulation? Well, stovepipe hats were pretty popular early on but tended to fall off a lot, not to mention the cracking and crunching they took when sailors tried to stow them. A smaller version with a full bill followed, but material for its production was expensive, and the bills tended to droop in warm climates. A thick blue visorless hat with an optional white cover, complete with a hat ribbon sporting unit identification was tried and later dropped for a straw hat, which didn’t glide at all. With all this cover confusion, the easiest way to make a hat was to use the most-available resource - sailcloth, or canvas. Canvas flat hats replaced the black, blue and straw headgear and eventually were mass-produced and reinforced into today’s form. Naval lore-ists focus on the white hat’s bailing properties, but that dixie cup theory doesn’t hold water unless it’s during a dire Crackerjacks prior to WWII (USN) emergency. These few examples provide a glimpse of the many aspects of the traditions of the Navy, adding to the romance of the sea and a sailor’s pride in his uniform and service. BM1(SW/AW/SS) Sal T. Dog (hey, that’s with two g’s, bub), a former coal-heaver aboard a prototype submarine that never quite made it into the fleet, has spun his share of these tales during his Navy career. Dogg is well aware of the symbolic impact the crackerjacks have had all over the world. He remembers how the uniform still had magnetism even during and after the Vietnam War, a period of low regard for the military. “That uniform has always been a great drawing card,” Dogg yelped between sips of muddy coffee spiked with diesel fuel. He became more aware of the impact as the recruiter from 1979 to 1981, when the crackerjacks returned following a six-year absence. While in that position he noticed how the slogan, “It’s not just a job, It’s an adventure,” created the romantic image that drew thousands to recruiting offices in his area. He also felt that the mystique created by the uniform was, and still is, a powerful recruiting tool. Dogg regards the crackerjacks as the best uniform the Navy has had because of its convenience. The Navy, under Chief of Naval Operations (CNO) ADM Elmo R. Zumwalt Jr., changed its enlisted uniform design to a suit-and-tie look in the early ‘70s. This The Iowan History Letter 4th Quarter 2013 Page 17 change was Zumwalt’s idea to unite a fleet riddled with retention problems under the slogan “One Navy, one uniform.” After having to bear the expense of the change, Dogg and his shipmates found it extremely difficult to stow the uniforms aboard ship, must less tote the heavier seabag. Many sailors tried in vain to add the revamped uniforms to their already-stuffed shipboard lockers. The most inconvenient was the ill-fated combination cap. Not only did it perform poorly as a frisbee, its height just exceeded the depth of shipboard bunk lockers, causing a curious compression effect throughout the seagoing fleet. The crackerjacks were perfect for stowing in the cramped storage space provided each seafarer. After years of lamenting from the now-dented enlisted ranks, CNO ADM Thomas B. Hayward recommended the return of the crackerjacks in 1979. This was part of his commitment to increase the attractiveness of a Navy career and promote “pride in professionalism.” Thus followed the return to the crackerjacks, and a resurrection of much-missed Navy lore. Sure, there are other facets of the Navy’s uniforms that echo from storytellers - the history of officer uniforms, and of course, the evolution of the women’s uniforms since the 1917 introduction of the Yeomanettes - but these were more or less modeled to reflect status, in the officers’ case, or parallel women’s civilian dress. None of these compare to the yarns spun secret tales of the Navy’s best-recognized symbol exposed, maybe you’ll feel moved and join the cause to avert this rumored transition to zippers. Warning: This priceless knowledge of Navy lore may cause you uncomfortable confrontation. Just smile when the yarn is spun, and the tradition will happily carry on. A consoling thought for those nautical navigators who are frustrated with the time consumed by their 13 anchors … try replacing a zipper at sea. An Ode to a US Navy Peacoat You remember them as those ton and a half monsters that took the annual production of thirty-five sheep to make. Those thick black rascals with black plastic buttons the size of poker chips. The issue coats that drove shore duty chief petty officers stark raving nuts if they caught you with the collar turned up or your hands in your pockets. “Hey, you rubber sock, get those hands outta them pockets! Didn’t they issue you black leather gloves?” So, you took your hands out of your pockets and risked digital frostbite rather than face whatever the Navy had in store for violators of the ‘No Hands In Peacoat Pockets’ policy. There’s probably a special barracks in Hell full of old E-3s caught hitchhiking in sub-zero weather with hands in peacoat pockets. As for those leather gloves, one glove always went missing. “Son, where are the gloves we issued you?” We??? I don’t remember this nasty, ugly chief be- Modern Navy Uniform (USN) throughout naval history about the crackerjacks - the one distinctly nautical uniform - and the buttons that keep them all together. With the button brouhaha explained, and the Sailors reporting aboard in their peacoats, 1920 (USN) The Iowan History Letter 4th Quarter 2013 Page 18 ing at Great Lakes when the ‘jocks and socks’ petty officers were throwing my initial issue seabag at me and yelling, “Move it!!” As for the gloves, once you inadvertently leave one glove on a saloon table or on the seat of a Greyhound bus, the remaining glove is only useful if a tank rolls over the hand that fit the lost glove. In the days long ago, a navy spec. Peacoat weighed about the same as a flatcar load of cinder blocks. When it rained, it absorbed water until your spine warped, your shins cracked and your ankles split. Five minutes standing in the rain waiting on a bus and you felt like you were piggybacking the statue of liberty. When a peacoat got wet, it smelled a lot like sheep dip. It had that wet wool smell, times three. It weighed three and a half tons and smelled like yearold gym shorts. You know how heavy a late ‘50s peacoat was? Well, they had little metal chains sewn in the back of the collar to hang them up by. Like diluted navy coffee, sexual sensitivity instruction, comfortable air-conditioned topside security bungalows, patent leather plastic-looking shoes and wearing raghats configured to look like bidet bowls, the peacoat has been watered down to the point you could hang them up with dental floss. In the old days, peacoat buttons and grocery cart wheels were interchangeable parts. The gear issued by the U.S. Navy was tough as nails, bluejacket-tested clothing with the durability of rhino hide and construction equipment tires. Peacoats came with wide, heavy collars. In a cold, hard wind, you could turn that wide collar up to cover your neck and it was like poking your head in a tank turret. Aboard ship during WWII (USN) The things were warm, but I never thought they were long enough. Standing out in the wind in those ‘big-legged britches’ (bell bottoms), the wind Even Ahab had one.... (Moulin Prod.) whistled up your cuffs and took away body warmth like a thief. But, they were perfect to pull over you for a blanket when sleeping on a bus or a bus terminal bench. Every sailor remembers stretching out on one of those oak bus station pews with his raghat over his face, his head up against his AWOL bag and covered with his peacoat. There was always some ‘SP’ who had not fully evolved from apehood, who poked you with his Billy bat and said, “Hey, YOU!! Get up! Waddya think yer doin? You wanna sleep, get a room!” Peacoats were lined with quilted satin or rayon. I never realized it at the time, but sleeping on bus seats and station benches would be the closest I would ever come to sleeping on satin sheets. Early in my naval career, a career-hardened (lifer) first class gunner’s mate told me to put my ID and liberty card in the inside pocket of my peacoat. “Put them in that inside pocket and pin the thing closed with a diaper pin. Then, take your heavy folding money and put it in your sock. If you do that, learn to never take your socks off while on liberty. Them dockside pickpockets pat ‘cha down for a lumpy wallet and they can relieve you of said wallet so fast you’ll never know you’ve been snookered. Only an idiot will clam-fold his wallet and tuck it in his thirteen button bellbottoms. Every kid above the age of six in Italy knows how to lift a wallet an idiot pokes in his pants. Those little devils learned to pick sailor’s pockets in kindergarten. Rolling bluejackets is the national sport in Italy.” The Iowan History Letter 4th Quarter 2013 Page 19 In Washington DC, they have a wonderful marble and granite plaza honoring the United States Navy. Every man or woman who served this nation in a naval uniform, owes it to himself or herself to visit this memorial and take their families. It honors all naval service and any red-blooded American bluejacket or officer will feel the gentle warmth of pride his or her service is honored within this truly magical place. Lone Sailor (Navy Memorial) The focal point of this memorial is a bronze statue of a lone American sailor. No crow on his sleeve tells you that he is non-rated. And, there are further indications that suggest maybe, once upon a time, the sculpturer himself may have once been an E-3 raghat. The lad has his collar turned up and his hands in his pockets. I’m sure the Goddess of the Main Induction is laughing at the old, crusty chiefs standing there with veins popping out on their old, wrinkled necks, muttering, “Look at that idiot standing there with his collar up and his hands in his pockets. In my day, I would have ripped that jerk a new one!” Ah, the satisfied glow of E-3 revenge. Peacoats... One of God’s better inventions. Dan Gary in his peacoat during the Korean War. (Sally Gary) Rememberences Continued from page 13 On December 7, 1941, I was a Midshipman at the U. S. Naval Academy when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. On September 2, 1945, I was in Tokyo Bay serving as an officer in the gunnery department aboard USS Iowa. Between those two dates, our ship was actively engaged in the all consuming effort to defeat Japan. The Iowa’s major wartime operations, conducted while I was on board, included the recapture of the Philippine Islands, (an all out effort effort by all branches of the armed service) then Okinawa Island (a primary Japanese bastion dedicated to preventing a U. S. invasion which ultimately failed). Finally the daytime bombing striles by our aircraft and the nighttime bombardment by the battleship’s big guns were preparing the mainland of Japan for a United States invasion. Swarms of planes loaded with bombs were flown by kamikazi pilots who died in their desperate effort to save their country. On August 6, 1945, our Commander in Chief, President Harry Truman, gave approval to drop the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. All ships and airplanes were ordered to abandon present combat operations and to withdraw from the coast of Japan. Shortly after the bombs were dropped on 15 August, 1945, President Truman announced that Japan had surrendered unconditionally. On September 2, 1945, the Japanese Foreign Minister and the most important officers holding positions of Pacific Commands signed the surrender documents on the deck of USS Missouri, finalizing Officers saluting during the surrender ceremony. USS Iowa in background. (USN) The Iowan History Letter 4th Quarter 2013 Page 20 helped end the war with Japan. W. E. (Hap) Hansen, LCDR, USNR (Retired) Editor’s note: It turns out, Hap lives right up the street from me. We talked about his experiences and I an adding the following that came from our conversation. Map showing POW camps in Japan. (USN) the end of the war with Japan. USS Iowa was anchored next to USS Missouri so we felt like we were involved in the ceremony. I was glad to be there, healthy and alive. The end of hostilities provided for the immediate release of all prisoners of war. Special forces were dispatched to accomplish their release and safe return. After medical examinations, some prisoners were admitted directly for care to the hospital ships in the bay. Other prisoners were ordered to U.S. ships with the best medical facilities and doctors. At that time, I was privilaged to serve one officer brought in a boatload of prisoners to the Iowa. This officer had been taken prisoner when his ship was captured by the Japanese near the island of Guam on December 8, 1941. He was shipped to the Philippine Islands, held prisoner, and suffered the Bataan Death March, then shipped with a boatload of prisoners to Japan. He did manual labor in a coal mine all those years. Hearing his experience first hand made me grateful that I had been able to serve in a ship that “After the surrender, the Japanese sent out a destroyer to negotiate with us regarding the POWs for several days. We had several questions. Where were the POWs? If we sent people in, would they be safe? Even the Japanese weren’t sure about the safety part because they weren’t sure some of the die hard fanatics might not accept the surrender. It took a while to work it all out.” “Admiral Badger took charge ashore and sent out parties to free the prisoners. We traveled between the ship and Yokosuka every day. Iowa was placed in charge of gathering needed medical supplies. The prisoners we found were very sick and malnourished. We sent out the word to all the ships in the area to send any spare medical supplies they had so we could take care of these men. The next thing we knew, Iowa’s decks were piled high with medications and bandages. We had to make isles on the deck to get through them.” “The prisoners were brought to Yokosuka and all the hospital ships were were in the harbor. Our doc- The Iowan History Letter 4th Quarter 2013 Page 21 tores went ashore during the day, every day, to take care of these men and get them sorted out for their care. POWs well enough to be cared for aboard regular ships with medical staffs, were spread out among the fleet.” especially those fire control computers.” “I remember also having reporters aboard and Admiral Halsey coming across from the New Jersey in a Bosn’s chair to have a press conference. Admiral Carney was with Halsey as his public affairs representative. After Halsey would make his statement, Carney would go back and explain it all. I remember him saying to the reporters, ‘What he really meant to say was....” Hap retired in June of 2000 and lives in Plantation Estates, a retirement community in Matthews, NC. His son, Kent, sends him copies of the newsletter. Remembering Gus Harris Sent by his daughter Karen Gullick “I remember carpenters rigging up ways to bring these men aboard bringing them up over the side. All personnel gathered on the fantail and everyone took a POW. The guy I was assigned had been captured off Guam early in the war. From then until he left the ship, we became friends and I helped him adjust back to becoming whole again. His stories are something I’ll never forget.” “I left the Navy in 1952. When I left the Iowa I went into the reserves and later taught at the Naval Academy. I haven’t been back to see the ship since she became a museum. But I have good memories while I was aboard.” “I remember Iowa had the most powerful equipment Admiral Halsey (USN) I had ever seen - My Dad had more than 27 years of dedicated and faithfull service in the Military. He enlisted first in the Merchant Marines in 1939 where he served on a Norwegian Freighter and then with the United States Steamship Lines. Gus Harris (Family) Subsequent to that he enlisted in the United States Navy on September 12, 1940. His first assignment was on an Eagle boat which was a sea going tug that carried armament. Following that duty he was assigned as a fireman on the USS Blakely, a converted WWI Destroyer. His next assignment was on the Battleship USS Iowa. When the Iowa carried President Franklin D. Roosevelt to the Tehran conference in Iran, he was one of the few Americans who had the distinction of personally talking with the President during that voyage. Following this he was reassigned to the USS South Dakota as a Machinist Mate 1st Class. He received an Honorable Discharge from the Navy on October 23, 1945. During his Naval career he earned the National Defense Service Medal and the WWII Victory Medal. After a 12 year retreat from the military, he joined the United States Air Force Reserve as a mechanic and served with them until July 22,1963. On August 1, 1963 he joined the Army The Iowan History Letter 4th Quarter 2013 Page 22 National Guard, Company A, 1st Battalion 128th Infantry, 32d Infantry Division as a Mess Sergeant. During his service in the Guard he was awarded the President Roosevelt aboard ship (USN) Army National Guard Recruiting Badge, the Armed Forces Reserve Medal, the Army Commendation Medal and the Army Reserve Components Achievement Medal. He retired from the Army National Guard on November 30, 1979. One of the highlights of his service career was meeting President Roosevelt on the deck of the USS Iowa. He had come up on deck from the boiler room to have a cigarette and get some fresh air. As he was leaning over the rail he heard a voice say, “Good evening sailor”, and he recognized the voice immediately. He dropped his cigarette and turned to salute his Commander and Chief, President Franklin D. Roosevelt. The President was on a lounger reading a book directly behind him. The President said, “At Ease Sailor”, and he relaxed to that Gus Harris at home (Family) position. They struck up a conversation with the President saying what a lovely evening it was and asking him how long he had been in the Navy and what were his duties aboard the USS Iowa. They spoke only for 3 - 4 minutes but my father was so nervous he said it felt like an hour. It was a moment he would never forget and one he told his grandchildren many times. They never tired of hearing it. My Dad was so proud of his time in the Navy. My sister, brother and our families enjoyed hearing him tell about that part of his life. Can You See Me Now? Brad Goforth Dazzle camouflage, also known as razzle dazzle or dazzle painting, was a family of ship camouflage used extensively in World War I and to a lesser extent in World War II. Credited to artist Norman Wilkinson, it consisted of complex patterns of geometric shapes in contrasting USS West Mahomet (ID-3681) colors, interrupting and intersecting each other. Unlike some other forms of camouflage, dazzle works not by offering concealment but by making it difficult to estimate a target’s range, speed and heading. Norman Wilkinson explained in 1919 that dazzle was intended more to mislead the enemy as to the correct position to take up than actually to miss his shot when firing. Dazzle was adopted by the British Admiralty and the U.S. Navy with little evaluation. Each ship’s dazzle pattern was unique to avoid making classes of ships instantly recognizable to the enemy. The result was that a profusion of dazzle schemes was tried, and the evidence for their success was at best mixed. So many factors were involved that it was impossible to determine which were important, and whether any of the color schemes were effective. While dazzle did not conceal a ship, it made it dif- USS Iowa underway, 1944 (USN) The Iowan History Letter 4th Quarter 2013 Page 23 A proposed camouflage pattern for a freighter. (Archives) ficult for the enemy to estimate its type, size, speed, and heading. The idea was to disrupt the visual rangefinders used for naval artillery. Its purpose was confusion rather than concealment. An observer would find it difficult to know exactly whether the stern or the bow was in view; and it would be equally difficult to estimate whether the observed vessel was moving towards or away from the observer’s position. Rangefinders were based on the coincidence principle with an optical mechanism, operated by a human to compute the range. The operator adjusted the mechanism until two half-images of the target lined up in a complete picture. Dazzle was intended to make that hard because clashing patterns looked abnormal even when the two halves were aligned. This became more important when submarine periscopes included similar rangefinders. As an additional feature, the dazzle pattern usually included a false bow wave intended to make estimation of the ship’s speed difficult. American naval leadership thought dazzle effective and, in 1918, the U.S. Navy adopted it as one of several techniques. However effective the scheme was in World War I, dazzle camouflage became less useful as rangefinders and especially aircraft became more advanced, and, by the time it was put to use again in World War II, radar further reduced its effective- USS Nebraska in dazzle paint. (Archives) ness. However, it may still have confounded enemy submarines. The US Navy implemented a camouflage painting program in World War II, and applied it to many ship classes, from patrol craft and auxiliaries to battleships and some Essex-class aircraft carriers. The designs (known as Measures, each identified with a number) were not arbitrary, but were standardized in a process which involved a planning stage, then a review, and then fleet-wide implementation. Not all USN measures involved dazzle patterns; some were simple or even totally unsophisticated, such as a false bow wave on traditional Haze Grey, or Deck Blue replacing grey over part or all of the ship. Dazzle continued to be used until the end of World War II. Dazzle camouflage has not totally gone away. Although most ships are the common haze gray, the idea is still around. USS Freedom (LCS-1), a new class of littoral combat ship of the U.S. Navy, is the first ship since World War II to have camouflage reminiscent of the World Wars. USS Freedom (LCS-1) underway (USN) The Iowan History Letter 4th Quarter 2013 Page 24 Letter from the Editor take some time to get it in the newsletter, but we’ll get it in for all to see. Special thanks to everyone who sent things in for the newsletter. I hope you all are enjoying the stories from former shipmates and a little history thrown in as well. Next issue I will dedicate to the remaniscences of one Iowa crewmember who recently passed from us. His family sent everything he had collected over the years, including articles from newspapers. He also had some copies of the original ship’s newspaper from the Second World War. I also plan on detailing how the Iowa was struck twice by Japanese shells during the bombardment of Milli Atoll in 1944. These are the only two times the ship was struck during the war. Future articles include information about Iowa’s “air force,” and the man who helped design Iowa’s gunfire control computers. If you have anything you would like to share with our shipmates and friends, please send it in. It may Send your works to: Brad Goforth, 1200 Somersby Lane, Matthews, NC 28105 or email it to: [email protected] Also, if you have any comments or questions, pop me an email at the above address. I’d love to hear from you. Without your help, we can’t make this letter happen! I look forward to reading about you. Brad Goforth Recognize this guy? When was it taken? Who are some of the others? Send the identities to the editor at the email above. We’ll share unnamed photos periodically just to test your memories. Disclaimer: The Iowan History Letter is an independent online magazine, and produced as a keepsake journal for Battleship Iowa museum volunteers, former crewmen of USS Iowa, and for our readers. The Iowan History Letter is not sold, subscriptions are not offered, and all credited photos, cartoons and stories are the sole property of their authors. Wherever possible, The Iowan History Letter requests permission, properly credits, and identifies the source of photographs, stories, or quotations. If crediting errors, or any possible copyright infringements are found, please let us know and corrections will be made. The Iowan History Letter 4th Quarter 2013 Page 25