'Book Review: Battle of Surigao Strait'
(See T. Bean, p. 68, October 2009 Naval History)
Paul M. Hupf
The reviewer notes that author Anthony P. Tully rejects the traditional view that the Fuso broke in two and continued to float for some time after the battle.
In October 1944, I was a Marine Corps second lieutenant assigned to duty on board the USS Portland (CA-33), which I boarded in Majuro Lagoon on 6 April 1944. I served on board her continuously until November 1945. The Portland was one of the left-flank cruisers during the Surigao Strait engagement. My general-quarters station was in the aft 5-inch battery director, which was never alerted during the engagement so we were able to observe it with ringside seats, so to speak.
My recollection is that main battery fire from the Portland and the whole cruiser line was directed by Rear Admiral Jesse B. Oldendorf. It commenced shortly before 0400, after the destroyer attacks. The cruiser fire was deliberate and unhurried. Huge fires were burning on the Japanese ships at the second salvo. Main battery firing lasted about 15 minutes. There were ships still burning when firing ceased.
At about first light, the Portland, second in the line of cruisers, proceeded south into the narrow waters of Surigao Strait. I recall two large sections of a ship, separate from each other, but close, seemingly "bottoms up," floating in midstream. These sections were too large to have been from a destroyer, and they could not have been from the blackened Mogami because she was still afloat but dead in the water. The Portland fired several rounds into her without any apparent result. I recall seeing a great number of Japanese sailors in the water, far too many to count.
Suddenly, without any explanation from the bridge, and to our dismay, the entire cruiser group reversed course and headed north at flank speed to the entrance of Leyte Gulf where we patrolled back and forth for some time before returning into the gulf and the Leyte beachhead.
My recollection of what I saw causes me to say that the author is in error regarding the sinking of the Fuso. The two sections of the ship I saw could only have come from the Fuso since the Mogami was still afloat and the Yamashiro sinking occurred considerably to the north. The rest of the Japanese group consisted of destroyers, too small to have provided the floating hulks I saw.
'Will Missing Ships Be Found?'
(See Naval History News, p. 10, October 2009 Naval History)
Ian Reynolds
The search plan by Parks Canada for arctic explorer Sir John Franklin's missing ships may be in vain according to "Epics of Exploration—The Franklin Mystery" in Shipping Wonders of the World, Vol. 1 (London: Amalgamated Press, 1936), p. 352-3, edited by C. Winchester.
It notes, in part:
In April 1851, the British brig Renovation, in the course of a passage from Limerick to Quebec, met early one morning a large ice-floe off Newfoundland Banks. She passed this in clear weather, running about eight knots, at a distance of some 3 miles. . . . On top of the floe, not far apart were two three-masted ships—one heeled over, the other upright. They were painted black and did not resemble wrecks. . . .
To all appearances, [they were] two exploring vessels whose crews had abandoned them after snugging them down and ensuring that they were left in as good and sea-worthy state as possible.
The ships were also seen in much the same position at another time by the German brig Doctor Kneip. The article concludes, "In all probability, then, the two ships were the missing Erebus and Terror."
So if the above article is correct, the ships are likely at the bottom of the Atlantic.
Editor's note: While an interesting report, the 1936 article differs materially from the testimony of witnesses included in Royal Navy reports, as documented by The Times of London on 3 June 1852. The Renovation's captain, Edward Coward, noted he could not tell what color the ships were as they were encased in ice and stated, "I believed them to be two Greenlandmen abandoned, and such is my impression to this day."
Those interested in reading the statements can find them by searching The Times' archives for June 3, 1852 at http://archives.timesonline.co.uk.
'The Pearl Harbor Warning that Never Was'
(See R. J. Hanyok, p. 6, October; L. Jewell, p. 6 August; P. Ribbey, p. 7 and 64, June; R. J. Hanyok, pp. 50-53, April 2009 Naval History)
Rear Admiral Richard E. Young, U.S. Navy (Retired)
Arguments over whether there was a conspiracy to keep Admiral Husband E. Kimmel and General Walter C. Short, the commanders at Pearl Harbor on 7 December 1941, in the dark will probably go on ad nauseam. Numerous writers have tried to prove this conspiracy, the most detailed being that of Robert B. Stinnett in his book, Day of Deceit (Free Press, 2001), in which he stated he reviewed 200,000 pages of documents to "prove" that President Franklin D. Roosevelt knew of the impending attack on Pearl Harbor and deliberately hid that fact from the world. But a close examination of Stinnett's hopelessly flawed research convincingly proves just the opposite: Roosevelt did not know.
Unfortunately, Stinnett, like all the other conspiracy writers, totally fails to take into account that the alleged conspiracy could have only happened with huge numbers of people being actively and knowingly complicit in this humongous secret, from civilian and military heads, to their staffs, radio intercept operators, code-breakers, and even the watch-standers at Pearl Harbor on that morning. And those hundreds of dedicated, loyal servicemen whom Stinnett and others accuse by inference of participating in this most heinous traitorous act would have had somehow to keep this darkest of all secrets to themselves through these last 67 years. Impossible.
'MacArthur, FDR, and the Politics of Leyte Gulf'
(See T. J. Cutler, pp. 16-23, October 2009 Naval History)
Command Master Chief W. A. Mullins, U.S. Navy (Retired)
To this former brown-water Black Beret and lifelong amateur military historian, Tom Cutler has long been one of my military and literary heroes. The inference in this article is that Lieutenant John D. Bulkeley earned the Medal of Honor for the escape of General Douglas MacArthur. This is not mentioned in his MOH citation. It could also be assumed from the article—as is widely believed—that Bulkeley took the general to Australia, a logistical improbability. MacArthur was taken to Mindanao where he was flown out by a B-17. I think these points should have been made. My respect for Commander Cutler's military and literary achievements remains undiminished.
Commander Joe B. Sissom, U.S. Navy Reserve (Retired)
I have just finished reading this article exploring the obvious political background for both the split command structure and why we invaded Leyte in the first place. I have never read anything that approached the clarity with which Commander Cutler wrote on aspects that generally get ignored. I applaud both Naval History for recognizing the gap that has existed in practically all commentary on Leyte, and the commander for his knowledge and skill in putting it on paper.
Now, I'll get back to reading the rest of the issue.
'Historic Fleets: Triage at Sea'
(See R. Cressman, pp. 12-13, October 2009 Naval History)
Captain John A. Rodgaard, U.S. Navy
I was delighted to read this; it brought back a flood of memories. It was 40 years ago to the day when I left the USS Amherst after completing my recruit afloat training that I opened the latest edition of Naval History and saw the article.
I was on board the Amherst in August 1969 when she was berthed near the Navy Reserve Armory on the Detroit River opposite Belle Isle. It was on one of those hot August mornings that she performed her last rescue mission. I had just assumed the duties on the quarterdeck as the messenger of the forenoon watch, when over the ship's 1MC came: "Man Overboard! Man Overboard, Starboard Side!" I joined many of my fellow boots on the ship's starboard side and saw a man drifting rather quickly down the river past the ship.
I returned to the quarterdeck at the same time the ship's leading boatswain's mate, with two boots, was dashing down the ship's brow. He had grabbed a heaving line and a life ring. I watched him and the boots as they began running down the shoreline. When they got ahead of the man in the water, the boatswain yelled for him to swim toward the shore. As the man got close enough, "Boats" threw the heaving line perfectly, reaching the swimmer, who quickly seized it. As the swimmer reached the shallows and stood up, I saw he was naked.
By this time, Boats was joined by the Amherst's corpsman, who handed the naked man a towel. To my surprise, he just took the towel and wrapped it around his neck. Boats, "Doc," and the boots escorted the man to the ship. As they reached the quarterdeck, I saw that the man had several large lacerations on his body but because the water was so cold, had not begun to bleed. He was wild-eyed and very agitated. He looked at me and said that he had come to save me from the Navy. I was stunned.
He was quickly taken below into what was once the large sick bay that had been used to carry scores of wounded Sailors and Marines during the war. By this time the Detroit police had arrived, followed shortly by an ambulance and paramedics. I can still see that man, yelling and screaming, naked, and face down with blood on the deck and the police subduing him.
I was later told he had escaped from a psychiatric hospital by crashing through a window. The man had eluded pursuit by diving into the chilly Detroit River.
By the way, the gentleman didn't save me from the Navy. This past June I passed 40 years in the naval service.
'The Butcher's Bill'
(See T. Kuhlmeier, p. 8, October; T. G. Martin, pp. 24-26, August 2009 Naval History)
Commander Tyrone G. Martin, U.S. Navy (Retired)
Captain Kuhlmeier's "sea lawyering" comment about my article must be appealed. Myth aside, the U.S. Marine Corps was created by a congressional act approved on 11 July 1798. Thus, Lieutenant Fitzpatrick was a member of the Continental Marines, an organization that ceased to exist at the Revolution's end.