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