Note: This is AW1 Tim’s inaugural post. I played in the same world from the surface, so I can say the “gouge” is good…and it’s a good story from the days of the “Cold War.”

<hr>

I’ll start off this adventure with a story about ASW, anti-submarine warfare. I relate it to you partly because I was a participant, but mostly because it is an example of thinking outside the box. It illustrates what can be accomplished by using your opponent’s philosophy against him. This story took place nearly 30 years ago, but I can remember it quite well.

The Straits of Gibraltar is the western doorway to the Mediterranean Sea. Pretty much everything has to pass through it to reach the Atlantic. Directly above the straits is Spain, and it’s western side holds the Bay of Cadiz, and a small city called Rota. Rota is the home of Eastern Atlantic ASW operations, and the location of Naval Station Rota, where we were based. At that time, I was assigned to VP-10 as a Sensor operator onboard P-3B Orions. Basically, an airborne sonarman. A good job, and one I liked. Rotais also a prime liberty spot, and the setting for many an adventure which will, in due course, see the light of day. But not this day, for there is another tale to tell, and so I must return to the narrative.

Well, the Soviets, our old friends,and to a certain extent, they were that, or, rather, acquaintances, bred of familiarity, were also interested in the area. The only way for them to get a submarine (outside, of course, of their own Black Sea Fleet) into the Med was to transit the straits, and that’s a difficult thing to do undetected, even for our own boats. It’s shallow water, as ocean’s go, and not too wide, and lots of ships overhead. Many an opportunity not only to be found out, but to interact rather rudely and, perchance, catastrophically with other vessels and land forms. Plus everyone’s looking for you. The usual tactic for submarines of all types was to trail some distance behind the carrier (or other target vessel) they were shadowing, and to try and glide in under a larger surface ship, to mask their own noise.

Did I mention the Soviet Trawler? Regardless of the paucity of commercially viable fish stocks, the Soviets had stationed a fishing trawler off the runway at Rota, in international waters. Their purpose to keep tabs on us, casting, as it were, their nets to catch the unwary. Now, It was a given that they were an intelligence-gathering vessel. Their fishing nets were all neatly stored, they never left their anchorage, and there was this small forest of antennas and masts all over the upper works. We knew what theywere, they knew we knew, and we all played the game. So familiar was the fishing trawler to Navy Pilots and Navigators, that it became an unofficial navigational marker. In fact, as a professional courtesy, on many a mission we would drop a care package to those poor souls on our way outbound. A little gift from America to our Soviet Naval Comrades, as it were. We’d take a plastic packing case that a sonobuoy comes in, fill it with a bottle or two of Jack Daniels, some cassette tapes, a couple of adult magazines, and then seal it up. We’d drop it out the sonobuoy launcher on the way by, and they’d send a small boat over to pick it up. They’d wave, we’d wave, and the cold war went on. But I digress.

USS Saratoga was planning on transiting the Straits, and conducting a patrol through the Mediterranean Sea. Problem was, there was this pesky Soviet Echo-II class submarine tailing her, and Saratoga was, naturally, concerned about the situation. Echo II class submarines carried cruise missiles that could well & goodly cause all sorts of mischief to a carrier, ar any other vessel. Saratoga requested that our squadron conduct ASW operations to locate andidentify this submarine so she could determine how best to deal with it. Usually, if you can locate the sub, they’ll back off and try again some other time. At the very least, they don’t like being discovered, because a submarine’s best defense is to remain undetected.

We planned and briefed for a late afternoon launch, and the ASW Ops portion of the mission would be exactly what we trained for. However, there was a problem in that the Soviet Trawler would be easily able to ID our launch, and transfer that information to the Echo-II, who would then lay low until we departed the area. Not unlike smugglers who have someone watching out for the cops. Same idea. What to do, what to do. We needed to locate and ID this submarine, generate as much intel on it as possible, and to try and give Saratoga more time to complete her inchop to the Med. We also didn’t want to tip our hand that we KNEW about the submarine ahead of time. The plan developed thusly:

Our aircraft would depart from Rota and rather than turn south, we’d turn north as though we were headed up the coast to England, following the standard air transit route. Once we got sufficiently up and out of the range of the Soviet sensors, we circled west and out, keeping our distance until we could, at altitude (above 15,000ft) approach the Straits as if we were a commercial aircraft. One of the advantages of the P-3 Orion is that it was, well, derived from a civilian airliner. Therefor, posing as one on radarwasn’t too awfully hard.

Meanwhile, Saratoga had some of it’s ASW folks pull a few sonobuoys from their own stores, and at a specified point, they rolled these off the stern, the drop being sufficient to activate the buoy’s impact sensor and deploy the antenna and hydrophone. For anyone watching, it would look more or less like they were tossing trash overboard. Saratoga radioed us the channels of the bouys, and the order they were dropped, and the spacing, and we dialed them up into our sensor suites, and waited.

The Echo-II, having been given, apparently, the “all clear” from the Trawler, now moved to trail Saratoga into the Straits, maneuvering fairly close aboard, though submerged, to a commercial vessel also heading east. The Echo-II was counting on both the noise and the mass of the civilian ship to mask her transit, but was unaware she was sailing directly into a waiting
line of hydrophones. The hunter had become the hunted.

As we neared the area, being at high altitude we could start to pick up the signal from the sonobuoys at some distance. Within a very short time, there came the unmistakable signature of a Soviet Echo-II class submarine. We were elated. Not only did we have direct acoustic contact with him, but we had his location down to a very narrow area. After contacting the ASW Tactical Support Center onboard Saratoga, it was decided that the best course of action would be to gather as much acoustic intel on the Sovietboat as we could, then light him up with active sonar and try and chase him back out of the straits. In fact, rather than allow him to get through, we determined to try and turn him before he made it in. We did this by dropping a pair of CASS (command activated sonobuoy system) buoys ahead of the submarine and waiting for it to approach them.

At about the extended range of the CASS buoys, we fired off the first ping, and folks, it was like turning on the lights and yelling “Happy Birthday!” at a surprise party. That Echo-II wound his turbines up so high that I had to turn down my headset sound. The sub initiated a hard turn and transited back out to the Atlantic like there was no tomorrow. It was a complete surprise to him, and we made it a little more painful by descending to low altitude and fixing his position with our MAD gear and smoke markers. Bythat I mean that we were so low during that phase of the evolution, that he would have easily heard our own propellers and turbines as we flew overhead. He KNEW we were there.

So, long story short, Saratoga got away into the Mediterranean with quite some distance between her and the trailing boat. We were able to bring a few more crews onto the Echo-II and tracked him around the area for several days before he finally turned north and headed back, his mission foiled. Probably had some serious ‘splainin’ to do when he got home as well. We, on the otherhand, found it difficult to list humility amongst our many virtues at that point. I suspect such has always been the bane of Naval Aircrew, regardless of the era.

The important story, though, is that we were able to exploit the Soviet tactics by turning their stoic allegiance to certain dictats to our own use. We made the Soviet Trawler think that we were doing something else. By spending the time to transit way out and around, we lowered our own on-station time, but kept the ability to stalk our prey by being “downwind” as it were, and approaching from an unexpected quarter. We utilized non-standard stores delivery by having Saratoga deploy the buoys. That allowed us, then, to approach the target while monitoring the pattern, and also saved us time by not having to drop them ourselves. The combined ops of both the CVBG and the VP Squadron allowed us to fully control the ASW environment, and to force the submarine to react to our terms. Had this been an actual war, we would most likely have been able to engage the contact before he was aware of our presence.

AW’s have a motto: We will locate your faintest whispers…..target your slightest movements…..gaze upon the heat of your body…..we will hear your pounding heart in the deepest oceans…..and when you finally become aware of our presence…..we will have already begun your departure…..forever!

We’re good at what we do.

ValOUR-IT. We just love those acronyms, and this one is a standout for me.

V(oice) A(ctivated) L(aptops) for OUR – I(njured) T(roops). Born of a disaster, raised up as a success. As of 5/5/2007, in 20 months, 1000 laptops have been handed to our wounded soldiers, sailors, airmen and Marines.

The “quality” of the product has gone from a used, purchased on eBay unit, with money from Soldier’s Angels, with a blog reader chipping in the funds for a copy of Dragon Naturally Speaking, to brand new Dell laptops, complete with wireless capability and a copy of Naturally Speaking funded by DoD funds from a program to aid disbaled service members. Along the way, it’s been the leanest and meanest charity I have know. 100% of the donations are “put to work.” Alongside that path of progress are some incredible people, with big hearts and small and large checking accounts.

While the main fund drives for this program happen in the two weeks leading up to November 11th, there is a need to keep the fund flowing year round. If you have a few spare $$$, there is someone who could use it to change the outlook and real opportunities of their future. Donations easily accepted here.

Found the link to a post at Strategy Page @ Captain B’s One Marine’s View blog.

I suspect it was done by CPT Allison Crane, RN, MS, a mental health nurse observer-trainer from the 7302nd Medical Training Support Battalion, and is titled “When a Soldier Comes Home From War”.

Fine work, expresses much, and the best 2-3 minutes (but you can spend many more) looking at the 21 slides that comprise this excellent reminder of a combat soldier’s return to “the World,” but about life in general, too.

Here’s a few of the slides:

They all are worth looking at. Do yourself a favor, go and check it out and see small pictorial of how our service members live in the current combat zone.

More Open Trackbacks!

The “sea story:”

Back in the day when we could neither confirm nor deny the presence of nuclear weapons aboard naval vessels, we used to regularly practice the protection of things that might or might not have been aboard. It mattered not if they were or weren’t from the crew’s standpoint, it was s skill necessary to be regularly flexed and so it was.

The calling away of the drills were mandated to be stated the same as though it was an actual “event” when an intruder might get aboard, so when the word was passed “Away the Security Alert Team, Away the Backup Alert Force” it always sounded the same. This was different from the other exercises on the ships, which would be prefaced on the 1MC (General Announcing System) with “THIS IS A DRILL!” to let us all know to be professional, yet not damage gear or ourselves in the response.

So, one fine day, on an unnamed vessel in an unnamed port at a major Naval Station, at the approximate time the drill was run daily, the word was passed on the 1MC, setting feet into motion and sending adrenaline coursing through the veins of young men, who, having first reported to the small arms lockers, were then equipped with 1911 .45 cal pistols, Remington 870 12 gauge shotguns and M-14 7.62mm rifles, and, I might add, at least two magazines for each weapon, and yes, the magazines were loaded with live rounds.

The response to the crew, if not a member of the SAT or BAF, was to “stand fast,” in other words, stay put right where you were. It would help separate the good guys from the bad guys, had the need to give pursuit and engage arisen.

However, on this particular day in either late 1979, or the middle of 1980, the Main Propulsion Assistant, being one of the citizens of the Engineering Department, made the judgment call that this, was in fact a drill, and, he being the important Naval Officer that he was, not to mention on who made the ship move through the water and caused electricity to be generated, deemed himself above the fray and trouble, since the SAT and BAF we doing something for the “Upper Decks,” so he walked on and did not stand fast.

Heading aft on the main deck, port side, and near the mess line, he encountered a member of the security forces, armed with a 1911, an imposing weapons of considerable power at close range. When challenged by the second class petty officer, a Quartermaster by trade, the officer proclaimed his self appointed right to continue to his work area, as he had important business of the ship, and therefore, the Navy to execute.

Said LT, regardless of his rank, within moments, found his nostrils in close quarters with the business end of the .45, and a QM2 uttering the words “HALT, (insert vulgarity here)!” for the LT and those in the vicinity to hear. I might also mention, between the moment of the brushing aside of the direction to stop the first time, and the more pointed command, a magazine of 7 rounds had been inserted into the pistol, the slide had been pulled back and released, causing a live round to be stripped from the top of the magazine and enter the chamber, presenting a condition commonly known a “locked and loaded.”

In a moment of exceptional clarity, the LT indicated his desire to “stand fast,” having reconsidered the level of prioritizing he had early assigned to his work with Engineering Department.

In the aftermath of this “situation,” both the LT and the QM2 had lectures on procedure, for one did not understand it was not his command prerogative to override Navy wide guidance for his convenience, and the other for executing the steps towards the use of “deadly force,” which for those who have stood the watch, know the implication of inserting the magazine on such a drill….

Tracked back @: Yankee Sailor

James Hornfischer’s second work is a wonderful a read as his first, “Last Stand of the Tin Can Sailors,” which I discussed in this post.

“Ship of Ghosts” tells the story of the history of the USS HOUSTON (CA-30), from her time as the Flagship of the Asiatic Fleet to her loss in combat action, which is a remarkable tale in itself, then proceeds to document the life of the survivors, captured by the Japanese, to become the slave labor, intermingled with Japanese engineers, natives, Australian, British, and Dutch POWs that built the Thai-Burma railroad. Once captured, the crew of the HOUSTON had their lives intertwined with the crew of the RMAS PERTH, which was in company with and fought alongside HOUSTON, suffering the same fate, and the “Lost Battalion,” an Army National Guard form Texas (2 Bn/131 Regiment of the 36th Div). It is a story that sheds the light of truth on combat actions not well told before, but possibly more importantly, the actual conditions and situations that existed in the building of the Japanese railroad, dispelling the myths from “The Bridge Over the River Kwai” and “King Rat.”There is heroism, courage, determination, persistence, and sheer guts displayed on almost every page. The range of personal accounts, from the most junior to the most senior involved in this history are remarkable. The writing is, as in his last book, engaging and draws you into the story.I began reading this as the crisis of the British sailors and Marines was occurring a few weeks ago, and found the stories of how POWs handled their captivity at opposite ends of the spectrum of military character.The stories of the naval battles, between the massive Japanese Fleet and it’s supporting Imperial Army and Naval air forces and a out-numbered set of surface vessels from several allied nations trying to do their best to hold the Japanese back with out the luxury of air support, dedicated port facilities of logistical support. Some insight into the tactics used by both sides are discussed, useful to historians of Naval Warfare.Within the book are many stories with in the story, or natives who assisted the Allied prisoners, the medical conditions and how they were handled in the deep jungle under extreme circumstances, the Japanese freighters, carrying POWs to mainland Japan being sunk by US submarines and stories of US POWs who worked in the shipyards and factories of the Japanese.An interesting historical note is when the HOUSTON was sunk, the citizens of the Houston, TX area collected money to buy a new USS HOUSTON. The money ($34M) was sent to the War Department and not only funded a new light cruiser, but also money to build an escort carrier, the USS SAN JACINTO (CVL-30). This was the CVL that President George H.W. Bush flew from when he was bombing Chi Chi Jima and was shot down.

Not only did the Texans open their wallets, but they had a recruiting drive and more than 3000 men stepped forward to join the armed services to replace the lost 1,168 crewmen of the HOUSTON.

As the book works it’s way to it’s conclusion, there is information of the War Tribunals for those in the Japanese chain of command.

Well worth the time to read this well researched work.

Additional Notes:

• A blog for the USS HOUSTON (CA-30) is here.
• Notes on a dive on the USS HOUSTON by the son of a survivor.

Tracked back @: Yankee Sailor, Third World County

Presley Neville O’Bannon, USMC
Credit: Find A GraveChinpokomon points out one 1st Lt Presley O’Bannon of the USMC laid a thumpin’ on the “pirates” from Tripoli on this date, but way back in 1805. You know, as in “…to the shores of Tripoli, we will fight our country’s battles…”Note the time lag from authorizing a Navy in 1794 until the forces were on station for the mission they were established for. 11 years.Why can’t the Democrats take a breath?

---

Update 4/28/2007: In looking for a good link for the famous LT, I came found this: How do you feel about Ridley Scott directing a movie depicting some hacking and slashing way across parts of the North African coast line in the early 1800s?

‘O’Bannon’ May Make
Big-Screen Debut

Presley Neville O’Bannon is likely to make his big-screen debut within the next two years, alongside such notable talent as Russell Crowe and Ben Kingsley. There are two film projects underway focusing on the American-sponsored expedition against the Tripolitan tyrant in 1805. (Read WGT’s feature about Presley O’Bannon’s role in the expedition.)

The filming schedules and indeed, even the bulk of the casting have not yet been unannounced, according to a report in February in Variety, the trade paper for the American film industry.

The project that seems most solid is headed by Mark Gordon Productions (“The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen,” “The Day After Tomorrow”) and Scott Free Productions (“Man on Fire,” “Captain Kidd,” with 20th Century Fox on board as distributor and Ridley Scott (“Black Hawk Down,” “Gladiator,” “Hannibal”) as director.

The film, titled “Tripoli,” would bring together Russell Crowe, cast as U.S. Navy agent William Eaton, and Scott, both last together in the blockbuster “Gladiator.” According to Greg Dean Schmitz, a columnist for Yahoo! Movies, Ben Kingsley is also in this film, which reportedly has a $100 million-plus budget.

Though Eaton reportedly is the chief protagonist in screenwriter William Monahan’s treatment, O’Bannon, the leader of one of the two main attack forces in Eaton’s expedition, is likely to represent a plum role, as well.

According to Schmitz, Touchstone Pictures and Valhalla Motion Pictures are also developing a film focusing on the Tripolitan war. Jean-Jacques Annaud (“Enemy at the Gates,” “Two Brothers”) is the likely director, using a script by John Collee (cowriter of “Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World”).
— WGT

Now there are some possibilities! BRING IT ON! I know the story, I know the ending and I liked “300.”

I just hope it hits the screens before terminal PC sets in.

Also, for those wanting to understand the Marine Corps traditions in more detail, Lt O’Bannon is the one who began the traditional outfitting of Marine officers, which stands to this day: The Mameluke Sword.

[…]
On the 25th day of April, the forces under Eaton and O’Bannon reached Derne and terms of surrender were offered to the enemy. The flag of truce was immediately returned. “My head or yours,” came the reply from the Government’s stronghold.

O’Bannon then swung into action. With the support of naval gunfire from American ships in the harbor and accompanied by his seven Marines, he spearheaded a bayonet charge which resulted in the capture of the fort on 27 April, 1805. O’Bannon personally lowered the Tripolitian flag and hoisted the Stars and Stripes for the first time on foreign soil, securing the War with Tripoli.

Hamet Karamanli promptly took as ruler of Tripoli and presented the Marine lieutenant with his personal jeweled sword, the same type used by his Mameluke tribesmen. Today, Marine officers still carry this type of sword, commemorating the Corps’ service during the Tripolitian War, 1801 – 05.

Appropriately, the actions of O’Bannon and his small group of Marines are commemorated in the second line of the Marines’ Hymn with the words, “To the Shores of Tripoli”. These same words were also inscribed across the top of the Marine Corps’ first standard, adopted around 1800.
[…]

And, lest you believe there is something new under the sun, here’s a short recounting of the days after the victory at Derna and commentary on betrayal, the “what happened next” and the story of an embittered general who comes home to critisize the administration from About.Com: Military History – Barbary Glory, Barbary Shame:

[…]
Betrayal in Barbary

Eaton’s victory celebration was short-lived. The pasha’s reinforcements arrived the day after the battle and surrounded the town. For a month, Eaton held out against a force more than three times the size of his own. Constant skirmishes and raids kept his troops on edge. A plot to poison him was foiled only when a local Muslim mullah revealed the plan.

On June 11, the Pasha’s forces launched a last furious attack. Hamet’s cavalry bore the brunt during a confusing, four-hour slugfest of charge and counter-charge from which Hamet eventually emerged victorious. The road to Tripoli was open.

But the Marines never made it to the now-famous “shores of Tripoli.” The next day, the USS Constellation arrived with news that the United States had signed a peace treaty with the Pasha in Tripoli. Eaton was ordered to evacuate with his Christian forces, Hamet, and a handful of the former pasha’s retainers. The rest of Eaton’s army was to be abandoned.

The news was a crippling blow to Hamet, whose long-held mistrust of American intentions was confirmed. Eaton protested that his orders went against his sense of “duty or decency.” But in the end, Eaton obeyed his superiors. In a secret midnight maneuver, he pulled out of Derna. The story goes that when the townspeople awoke to find the Americans gone, their wails carried to the Constellation, where Eaton heard them in silent agony.

Most of those who remained in Derna either fled or were later massacred by a vengeful Pasha.
An Ignoble End

Eaton’s adventure is, at its heart, a story of missed opportunities — for Eaton to fulfill his military destiny, for Hamet to reclaim his throne, and for U.S.-Arab relations to find some common ground. While no one would claim that a successful end to Eaton’s mission would have led to friendly relations with the Muslim world, it is hard to look at the midnight retreat from Derna and not see in it the kernels of a profound Arab-American mistrust that echoes through to this day.

America greeted Eaton as a hero, his daring victory credited with freeing the hostages and ending the war. But he returned an embittered man, his rants against the administration soon driving away even his closest supporters.

General William Eaton spent the rest of his days a lonely drunk in the taverns of Boston. He died in 1811 at the age of 47, and was buried somewhere in Massachusetts in an unmarked grave.

Barr Seitz is a former journalist with ABCNews and is writing a book about Eaton’s march and the Battle of Derna, titled “The Sword and the Scimitar.”

History: Don’t leave home for a debate without it!

It’s a small note in the main page at log in, but pretty significant for us “Sea Service” types: Navy – Together We Served now allows you to enter the Marines – Together We Served site to seek our your green clad shipmates!

Tracked back @: Yankee Sailor

Sorry…I’m late and you’re not. I let the day run away, and spent some time tweaking the story of the USS BONEFISH, which 5 other blogs, three from SWOs and two from submariners have been so kind as to post. <a href=”http://lubbers-line.blogspot.com/”>Lubber’s Line had added a picture of the BONEFISH on fire, with the crew on deck at sea. The link took me to several pictures of that tragic day. I will dispute the credited photographer, as he is listed as being from COMSUBGRU 7. The angles of the shots could only have been taken from the CARR. Never the less, it gives me hope that I may be able to track the video down.

I noticed someone has listed the link in a submariner’s forum board. I greatly appreciate that and hope many learn of that day and see the professionalism of all involved.

Sea story? Short and too the point: The last time I saw my shipmate of two commands, he told me “I’m tired of being responsible for things I can’t be in charge of.’ His next comment was he was getting out. That was 1987.

Yesterday, I get added as a shipmate in Navy – Together We Served by him. I go to his profile and find out he got part way out, became an MIUW and Military SeaLift type and retired as a 4 Striper! Good for him!

Post your track backs!

USS CARR (FFG-52) “Business Card” c.1989Destiny. The USS CARR (FFG-52), freshly returned from a Persian Gulf deployment, where she escorted re-flagged “American” crude carriers entering and departing from the Strait of Homuz. With a crew of 189, bloated by a “single plane” detachment (meaning one helicopter) from HSL-44 (about 14 men – 5 pilots and 9 enlisted), added to a three helo detachment of AH-6 “Little Bird” helos from the Army Special Forces, they had professionally performed their duties, while in cramped quarters with their assigned and augmented “shipmates.” In addition to just being responsible for operating the ship and the air assets assigned, there were small boats and two armed barges in the Persian Gulf, which were also under the command of the Convoy Commodores. The CARR’s CO, CDR Wade C. Johnson regularly fulfilled this duty, which meant the CARR’s crew handled a large number of air and sea fighting craft, on top of their weapons and sensors. They were busy, but in the 4 actual months of doing this job, well versed in the techniques used and management of the apparent chaos of all the moving puzzle pieces. Few of the crew left the ship between the return to the States (22 March, 1988) and the day of 24 April, 1988.
USS CARR (FFG-52) – Recent PictureFor the crew of the USS BONEFISH (SS-582), this becomes a blessing.I only know this story through the words of those who were there, who became my shipmates when I reported to USS CARR in September, 1988. Three people, two from the CARR’s crew, and one from the USS BONEFISH have responded and provided me with their recollection of the day’s events. I also managed to find the CARR’s monthly mandated ship history reports from this time period. I do not know exact time frames, as the inputs and my recollection of CDR Johnson’s recitation differ, so please discount such conflicts and know there is far more to be researched.
Click each page for a larger image
The story of the fire at sea began, as told by CDR Johnson, like so (I will paraphrase the report):

We were sitting eating supper, when the OOD [Officer of the Deck] called the Wardroom to inform me that the BONEFISH had reported via GERTRUDE [underwater radio] that she had a fire aboard, it was under control, but she was surfacing. I told the OOD to put the second engine online and to get over to the last known position of the submarine. The worst we’ll look is foolish, but if they need us, we’ll be right there.

From the Wikipedia BONEFISH entry:

On 24 April 1988, Bonefish was exercising with the guided missile frigate Carr (FFG-52) 160 miles off the coast of Florida. While the sub was submerged, seawater began leaking onto cables and electrical buses in a battery supply cableway. Electrical arcing between cables caused an explosion which flashed into a fire within minutes. Temperatures in the battery spaces reached 1,200 degrees. The heat melted crewmembers’ shoe soles in the spaces above. Bonefish was surfaced and its crew ordered to abandon ship. Eighty-nine crewmembers were rescued by whaleboat and helicopter crews from Carr and John F. Kennedy (CV-67).

The CARR’s OOD ordered the EOOW to bring up the second engine, which was started by the Propulsion Systems Monitor, GS2 Shawn Hubbartt, as directed by the EOOW brought the engine online.

GSM2 Hubbartt:
I was stationed onboard the USS Carr (FFG 52) and we were out to sea operating with the USS John F. Kennedy (CV 67) somewhere off the coast of Florida that I can remember.

I was a GSM2 at the time and working in the Main Engine Room when the CO came across the 1MC informing the crew that a diesel submarine who was operating with us had surfaced very close to the Kennedy on her starboard beam… Working in Engineering, I didn’t get to see much sun light so I went up to the starboard side main deck by the torpedo tubes to go look… I could see a small submarine on the surface in broad daylight right off the starboard beam of the carrier. I didn’t think much of it at the time except that it was rather rare for a diesel sub to surface in broad day light.

I was on watch on I think at the time the 1600 – 2000 watch… I think that was the watch rotation I was in for that week. The CO came over the 1MC again only this time he said that we have a ship in distress and that we are running at high speed to go assist… He said that the USS Bonefish had a casualty at 500 feet, had to emergency surface and we were to go assist them.

USS BONEFISH 24 April, 1988 USS CARR’s motor whaleboat

Photo Credit: Paul Perris on navsource.orgH/T: Hundreds of Fathoms Blog for the pictures of the rescue.The emergency aboard the BONEFISH was a fire in the battery compartment. CTC Rod Frank was on board BONEFISH as a Sonar Seaman:

I will tell you what I remembered.

We were out on a 2 week exercise with the USS CARR, USS KENNEDY, and the USS STURGEON. The exercise was completed early on the 24th and most were headed home. The KENNEDY was already 50-60 miles away when the fire was called away.

I had just completed my submarine qualification board that morning as well so I was pretty tired and I went to my rack for a couple of hours. Around 1600 there was a 1MC announcement that there was an unknown ground on the forward battery well. Most of our fire drills started this way so my first thought was that we were going to do another drill. The next thing I know one of our electricians come in and he empties a CO2 fire extinguisher into the forward well. I moved out into the passage way to assist as much as possible. There were a couple of key players one A-ganger and a couple of electricians trying to put out the fire.

The next thing I know here comes a fire ball out of the overhead and it blows me and the other guys that were chained together through our EAB’s into the crews mess. I remember thinking that those guys are all dead the fireball rolled right over their backs and didn’t do the damage that it could have. By now though we cant see a thing in the midships compartment. It is completely black. We lost comms a few minutes later and we could feel the flames rushing across the battery well under our feet. The next thing that I remember was someone passing the word to abandon ship.

CDR Johnson described the next part of the operation:

We came up to the BONEFISH’s position at full speed, when the sub popped to the surface, the hatches came flying open and the crew was piling out like ants getting out of their nest after being disturbed. Smoke was billowing from the sub from all three of the deck hatches. I ordered 5 life rafts (the encapsulated ones) into the water and to get the motor whaleboat ready to tow them to the sub.

ET2 Joe Smirniotis witnessed this happening:

I remember seeing the black smoke rising from the hatch of the Bonefish, men exiting quickly. I asked the XO if I needed to film it and I ran to IC Gyro and got the ships movie camera. I video taped it all. The life rafts being deployed and the motor whale boat.
Our crew was willing to do all that was needed. These are our ship mates needing our help and our prayers.
Our rafts did not work. I remember 2 out of 5 inflating and one of them only part way, the top did not inflate.

CDR Johnson told me two of the rafts just hit the water and kept going down. Those were a major item inspected by the Board of Inspection and Survey, specifically to get a feel for the reliability of them. This incident supported the fleet knowledge I had that the failure rate was 50% as observed by the INSURV inspectors.

The LT Robert “Bob” Threlkeld was the Engineer Officer on CARR. CDR Johnson told him to get in the whaleboat, go over and find the CO of the BONEFISH, CDR Wilson, and bring him back aboard. Bob did. He told me he climbed aboard the sub and walked among the crew until he found the CO. He noted the smoke coming from the hatches was the worst thing he had ever smelled.

The BONEFISH CO and Bob returned and headed for CDR Johnson’s cabin. To the day CDR Johnson left the CARR in Sept, 1989, he kept the small dry erase board, with the drawing intact, that he and the sub’s skipper used to sketch the basic interior of the sub, to decide if they should mount an effort to enter the sub and fight the fire/look for survivors. The decision was there really wasn’t a chance to do that.

Sometime early in the disaster, a HS-3 SEA KING from the KENNEDY came and hovered over the BONEFISH, dropping the “horse collar” to the stricken submariners. CDR Johnson, from his close vantage point, noticed the submariners didn’t know how to get into the rescue hoist apparatus properly. He directed the CARR’s air controller to order the KENNEDY’s helo away, and to send in the HSL-44 SH-60B. Once overhead, the HSL-44 helo sent the rescue swimmer to the sub, who then assisted the BONEFISH crew in getting hoisted and flown to safety.

From STSN Rod Frank:

We didnt know if we were surfaced or not but someone went up and opened the hatch and we started to get topside. I remember that when I got up there were maybe 40 or so of my shipmates hanging on to the safety track and we could see helos coming at us. The first one came in and a swimmer jumped off and came to help get us on board. By that time we also had a life raft over the side and some guys were climbing into it. I hung around and waited for one of the helos. I left with the XO and we were taken to the CARR. These guys took us in and made us as comfortable as possible. We were all in shock this whole evolution unfolded in less than a half an hour. We spent the next few hours trying to locate our friends not knowing if they survived or not. Some of the injured were flown to the KENNEDY for medical treatment.

Shawn Hubbart reports from his view point:

I monitored the start of the standby GTM, and then waited to see what was happening… I heard the engines slow down to idle and then I went up to the port side escape trunk to go take a look at the sub.

I saw that we were quite close to a submarine on our port quarter. Then I saw the forward hatch open up and a lot of brown smoke started pouring out of this thing… I’d only been in the Navy for only about 2 years, but I do know that this couldn’t be a good thing… There isn’t anywhere to run on a submarine when there is smoke, especially brown smoke.

Then I saw a lot of sailors climbing out of the sub in what I refer to ants running out of an ant hill with water rolling in. Not a correct statement to make but it started me to see these fellow sailors cling onto this submarine on the open ocean with nothing to hold on to. I remember that we set flight quarters and we launched our motor whale boat to pick up these sailors…

Several helos were flying around us and the sub. We had our helo up in the air and I guess the Kennedy had theirs up as well…

During this this rescue operation, the “normal” communications paths were bypassed in favor of a “COTS” (Commercial Off The Shelf) system that had been in the fleet for only a few years at this point: The Joint Operations Tactical System or simply “JOTS.” While there were all the voice circuits and teletype communications available, the JOTS “OPNOTE” system, basically what we know today as email, was used to communicate directly between the On Scene Commander (CARR) and Commander, Atlantic Fleet (CINCLANTFLT). The status reports and rescued crew rosters were sent to the CINCLANTFLT Command Center, giving the Fleet Commander a first person story of the action. OSC(SW) Mike Bennett was the one I understand that kept the messages flowing as the leading Operations Specialist.

The evacuation of the BONEFISH continued, with triage being performed by HMC(SW) “Doc” Mentzer. Some of the submariners, in need of more detailed medical care were flown to the USS KENNEDY, I believe about 14 of them.

Shawn Hubbartt;

We picked up several of the sailors from the Bonefish and took them onboard with us. I remember hearing that we picked up about 80 or so sailors and there were about 14 who were seriously injured that went to the Kennedy.

Below are the accounts of what happened as the BONEFISH sailors came aboard:

Joe Smirniotis:

As the crew of the Bonefish came aboard they were given soap to shower, clothing and shoes to wear by the crew, I gave up uniforms and my tennis shoes. They were so happy.

Shawn Hubbartt:

We, the crew, gave the Bonefish sailors some of our coveralls, dungarees and shoes to wear since they had lost everything they had on the sub. We pretty much gave everything we could to these sailors since we had just had a pay day about a week or so prior to this accident. It was the least that we could do for them… I personally thought I could have given him more if he had wanted it.

I remember one sailor in particular. I don’t remember his name but I gave him my pair of tennis shoes and my rack for the night. We would be heading home to take these boys back to Charleston, SC.

I talked with this sailor and showed him what I do on the ship and he told me what he does. He was an EN3 and his job was the “Oiler” in the engine room onboard the sub. I didn’t know what that was but he told me that it was his job to oil the piston heads and valves on the main diesel engines when they were operating.

I showed him the diesel generators onboard and I remember him telling me that we had it easy with these diesels since there were valve covers on them.

The details beyond this point in the operation we’re too widely discussed, but I can comprehend the efforts made, the details and specific, seemingly small tasks that had to occur to result in the positive outcome that we know. Putting several rafts and the whaleboat in the water, crewed for rescue and assistance (R&A) work, controlling multiple helos and reporting to higher authority, while also coordinating with the KENNEDY for support is a huge task. CDR Johnson, while recounting this to me, said “We could not have done this if we had not had the experiences we had in the Persian Gulf.” He was convinced a good crew would have struggled at all of this, but to the then present crew of the CARR, making that many “puzzle pieces” work together was second nature. His point was it is an acquired skill to be able to listen to multiple radio circuits, have a conversation, listen to voice reports, direct things to happen and report up the chain of command. I have been in such positions and it takes time to train yourself to listen for the “right” words for the present situation and then focus on whole sentences coming your way when a key word is picked out of the other noise.

Rod Frank:

I cant tell you enough how much great the crew of the USS CARR was to us. Their search and rescue team were completely professional. They did an amazing job getting 92 of 95 Sailors off that burning submarine. Then they tried their best to make us comfortable for that long ride to Mayport.

The CARR took the BONEFISH survivors into Naval Station, Mayport, on April 25th, then returned to the scene and provided support to the submarine rescue (USS PETREL) and salvage (USS HOIST) ships that had arrived. USS MCCLOY (FF-1038) was also on scene to assist by this time. CARR was the ready flight deck for the receiving of supplies from shore for the salvage ships, and provided a lee for the smaller vessels during rough seas.

Shawn Hubbartt:

We pulled into port I think the next day so we could send these sailors home. Then we went back out to sea to watch over the Bonefish and the rescue efforts.

When we got back out to the area where the Bonefish had surfaced, there were a couple of ARS ships out there along with their dive teams. I think the USS Grapple and USS Grasp were there.

I remember hearing that the divers from the ARS’s were trying to keep the Bonefish afloat since the fire that was onboard had gutted the ship. The divers were trying to fill up the forward ballast tanks with High Pressure Air to keep her afloat for the tow.

Rod Frank:

We pulled into Mayport the next morning and we were flown from there to Charleston SC still without knowing who made it and who didnt. We learned a couple of days later that 3 of our shipmates didnt make it off that day.

Upon completion of the initial salvage and securing work, CARR escorted the BONEFISH, under tow, back to Charleston. Arriving approximately 1430 on the 29th of April, the CARR was met by a large banner made by the families of the BONEFISH crew men saying “Thank you, USS CARR.” CDR Johnson said the families came aboard to personally express their thanks for the work of the crew.

Not all of the BONEFISH’s crew survived. Three of our shipmates perished in the fire:

• Lt. Ray Everts
• 1st Class Petty Officer Bob Bordelon
• 3rd Class Petty Officer Todd Lindgren

CDR Johnson told me all three of those men had recently reported aboard and were found in their working spaces. Do you ever think those semi-annual “Emergency Egress” drills from you berthing and work spaces are unnecessary? I found some ships, while years after this I was an inspector, and noted some made it a point to hold this training for all newly reported crew members with in 72 hours of their reporting aboard, then they would enter the 6 month training cycle with the other crewmen.

Update 4/26/2007:

From QM2/SS Richard Neault, another account from a crewman of the BONEFISH. It tells something of the fate of the three men named above, as well as provides more details on the operational conditions during the fire:

At the time of the accident I was on watch in the control room. I was a Quartermaster and at the time was a third class (Qm3/ss). We were operating with the USS Carr (FFG 52) and the JFK (CV 67) doing war games. The Carr had asked us to go deep to commence an operation, we were at periscope depth (PD). We started to go down to 250ft and the boat took on a down angle. At that time, the maneuvering room called up and said they had lost the ground on the battery well. The officer of the deck (OOD) told them to wait until we reached depth and then send a man into the well to see what was wrong. After we had reached 250ft, a man was sent into the battery well to find the problem when he then called out fire in the berthing spaces. The battery well is located under the berthing spaces. From there it gets kinda foggy for me as I did not monitor the phone communications. About 15 minutes after the fire alarm was sounded, there was a loud bang and the boat began to shudder. Instantly the boat filled with smoke. VERY thick and heavy black smoke. It came rushing into the control room and filled the room in about a second. By then the CO had already ordered us to PD, but when the smoke filled the compartment, the CO ordered an emergency blow. We surfaced, unfortunately the OOD was not wearing an emergency air breathing device (EAB). He was unable to get the hatch open and unfortunately succumbed to smoke inhalation. His name was Lt. Ray Everts. A quick side note, all three of the men who died in the fire were fairly new onboard. I had just had a conversation with Lt. Everts about the Quartermaster division on the Bone. He said that we were the best Qm division he had worked with thus far in his Navy career. He was a good guy. After we had surfaced, we were eventually able to get the control room hatch open and start one of the diesels. We used it to suck the smoke out of the compartment. The men fighting the fire were trying to get to the flames. Unfortunately, the fire was in the insulation that was located behind the walls in the berthing compartment. We would have had to remove the bunks and then the walls in order to get to it. They sure tried though. After we had been surfaced for about 15 minutes there was another loud bang and once again the compartment filled with heavy smoke. This time it flamed out the engine and aparently it had melted through an air line. At that point the CO realized that the fire was now being fed by this air line and the only thing left to do was to abandon ship and lock down the hatches and hope it burned itself out. Unfortunately, Robert (Bob) Bordelon (RM1/ss) had some sort of medical emergency (heart attack??) in the radio room and was already unconscious. YN3 Todd Lindgren was at the midships hatch waiting for his turn to go topside when he snapped (freaked out) and disappeared into the smoke. The Doc tried to locate him but was unable to due to the smoke. He was 20 years old, old enough to die for his country, but too young to buy a beer. RM1 Bordelon was less than a year from retirement. The official cause of the fire was an electrical short across the battery bus ties that eventually caught the insulation on fire. The Garbage Disposal Unit (GDU) in the crews mess had a leaky valve. That valve had apparently been leaking for some time and the salt water ate through the decking into the battery well. When we made our angle to go down to 250ft, the water that had pooled poured into the well and caused arching and sparking and from there it is now history. Had there been an explosion due to the buildup of hydrogen gas (as some sub experts claimed), you wouldn’t be reading this because I would be dead. Several of the crew of the Bone have been subsequently retired from the Navy for various reasons, including myself. Mainly because of the rumor and speculation surrounding the accident. Unfortunately, those of us who wanted the subs to be our career have had a hard time readjusting to civilian life. It isn’t that we were blamed by the Navy, its just that crews on board other boats felt that we didn’t do enough to save our shipmates, even though they were not there to actually be aware of what happened.

End of update 4/26/2007

As the CARR Command History for April 1988 reports, a memorial ceremony for those who died was held at St Mathews Lutheran Church at 405 King Street in Charleston, SC on Saturday, 28 April, 1988.

On December 23rd, 1988, Commander, Destroyer Squadron SIX, CAPT Jerry Lewis, awarded the Meritorious Unit Citation (MUC) to the USS CARR (FFG-52). Several Navy Commendation and Appreciation medals, and Letters of Commendation were also presented to the crew for their professionalism during this rescue at sea.

Here is a reflection by then GSM2 Shawn Hubbartt to wrap up his story, one with the appreciation gained from disaster:

Later on the magnitude of the fire finally came to me when I learned about the severity of the fire. I wasn’t aware that there were sailors who perished in the fire. I remember reading about the fire onboard the Bonefish and I was amazed of how severe that fire was and how fast the fire spread. A fire onboard any ship is dangerous no matter what. But I guess I took some of it for granted since I was on a surface ship and I could go out topside and get some fresh air every once in awhile.

The final word goes to Rod Frank:

The CO’s name for BONEFISH was CAPT Wilson. I don’t know much about him. He had just taken over from CDR Toney and this was his first underway period with us after an extended in port period. We had some issues that needed fixed and we were pierside in Charleston for almost 2 months before the exercise.

I do know that if he hadn’t ordered us to abandon ship when he did most if not all of the crew would have died in the fire.

Hard decisions had to be made, and thankfully, many are here to tell the tale.

I am thankful to GSCS Shawn Hubbartt (still on active duty, stationed aboard DDG-88), Joe Smirniotis and Rod Frank for their first person reports. I contacted them via Navy – Together We Served, which is a tremendous asset for such work.

Tracked back @: stikNstein, Castle Argghhh!, Third World County

Drifting slowing from the pier at the Naval Station, the crew’s attention is focused on the many tasks at hand. The first priority is to get safely away from the pier and “headed fair” in the channel for the outbound transit of Charleston Harbor.

The trip to the sea buoy takes about 1.5 hours, which is not the longest or shortest Sea and Anchor details for the East Coast, but it’s the one every knows you have to keep your head in the game, for the channel is narrow, the landmarks for navigation are mostly man made and there is little forgiveness in this channel. The Conning Officer will keep his eyes on the series of ranges that populate the shores of the Cooper river and the harbor itself to guide the ship safely.

Once clear of the sea buoy, the Sea and Anchor detail will be secured and the deck crew will secure the anchor for sea, wiring the bale on the pelican hook shut and attaching a second turnbuckle as well, after winching the anchor all the way into the hawse pipe.

The general rule of thumb for transits to the Jacksonville Operations Areas (JAXOA) was to leave both LM-2500 gas turbine main engines on line and sprint south, providing a rendezvous time of late afternoon with helos from NAS Mayport, or, in this case, also with the USS JOHN F KENNEDY (CV-67).

Most likely the USS CARR (FFG-52) arrived on station and radioed the KENNEDY to report ready for duty. The KENNEDY would send the message back, assuming tactical command, and a message as to stationing as the anti-submarine warfare (ASW) escort would be next to be heard. The ASW “Module” on the KENNEDY probably, under the direction of the Ship’s Tactical Action Officer (TAO) would direct CARR as to the planned mission specifics, passing info as the last known position of the diesel submarine contact, and detailed tasking on how to best keep the threat at bay. Search plans would be developed to maximize the efforts of the KENNEDY’s air wing HS-3 Sea King helicopters, equipped with dipping active sonars, and the CARR’s embarked SH-60B Sea Hawk.

Diesel submarine hunting is a tough business and a large part of the Soviet Navy’s submarine force were powered that way. So were just about every other sub in the world that was not operated by the US, the Soviets, the Brits or the French. Even the Chinese didn’t have a nuclear sub force at the time. Practice in finding this type of threat was essential to allow our forces to be able to operate near the hostile shoes of an enemy, as a large number of diesel “boats” would be used for coastal defense duties, specifically well suited to the confined and shallow areas near land.

The duty of playing the role of the diesel submarine fell to the USS BONEFISH (SS-582), which was about our last diesel boat in the inventory, as the nuclear powered submarine force held sway with all design and building considerations. the BONEFISH and her crew were the surrogate Soviets, like the Army’s OPFOR at Ft. Irwin. Studied in the manner in which we could expect the Soviet boat skippers to maneuver, the BONEFISH was to provide the expected “profile” for our forces to become acclimated to for time of war.

The last of the day of the 22nd, the night and the day of the 23rd of April would be time for the KENNEDY and CARR’s crews to employ our best technology against a threat as old as the first world war, in order that in a real shooting match, we would return victorious.

Come the next day, the mission had to be re-focused.