Walker, Scorpion Unconnected
Norman Polmar
Norman T. Marten Jr. is incorrect when he writes ("In Contact-Spy Ring Fallout," August, pp. 9-10) of the Soviet Navy being able to locate and sink the U.S. submarine Scorpion (SSN-589) using an encryption device and manuals taken from the American spy ship Pueblo (AGER-2), and key cards provided by John Walker. First, it is highly doubtful that Walker's delivery schedule of key cards to his KGB handler would have permitted the Soviets time to obtain and repair the equipment from the Pueblo, go through all intercepted radio traffic—which may or may not have included material relevant to the Scorpion—and decode specific material to enable them to attack and sink the submarine.
Second, neither Mr. Marten nor any of the various books on the Scorpion disaster provide any indication of what kind of information the Soviets may have obtained from radio transmissions that would have helped them locate and sink the U.S. submarine.
Third, neither the Sound Surveillance System nor the Canary Island hydrophone detected the acoustic signature of a Soviet torpedo—cited in several books about the Scorpion's loss—nor any explosive sounds that were external to the sub's pressure hull, which would have indicated a Soviet attack on the submarine. According to Bruce Rule, the Navy's senior acoustic analyst for 42 years, based on his analysis of the Scorpion's acoustic data:
The initiating events responsible for the loss of the SCORPION were two small explosions that occurred one-half second apart . . . and were contained within the submarine's pressure hull. The source of these explosions, which are estimated to have been equal to the explosion of not more than about 20 lbs of TNT each, cannot be determined from analysis of the acoustic data. Because of these internal events, the crew could not maintain depth-control.
Scorpion sank to a depth of 1,530 feet, where the pressure hull collapsed in less than one-tenth of a second.
Scorpion was lost because of an on board problem [the two internal explosions] that the crew could not overcome; there was no Soviet involvement.
We Americans love conspiracies—and when there aren't any we love to invent them.
Opposing Views on Treasure Hunting
Robert Enrione
As a diver, coin collector, and a person very interested in the naval history of the Napoleonic Wars, I would like to inject a few opinions into the debate about treasure hunting and marine archaeology, in response to "The Trouble with Treasure" (August, pp. 18-25). There is a place for both, but not all wrecks are priceless or sites that will yield a trove of information. The remains of the Nuestra Señora de las Mercedes is probably one of the least interesting wrecks that exist were it not for several hundred thousand coins.
Four hours of research in my home library yielded enough information to outline a thin book. She was a standard-design 34-gun frigate, of which scores were built. I was able to find two separate line plans for the class. I was also able to obtain the subsequent histories of the other seven ships involved in the 1804 action in which she was sunk. Locating biographies of some of the British officers involved only took an hour. I also found several good accounts of the action without too much trouble. Had I the time and money to travel to the Spanish naval archives I could have unearthed a full inventory of the equipage and stores. English prize court records would have gotten me the equipage and stores of the 34-gun frigates captured in the action. Archives would also provide more information than the shattered wreck ever will.
The only real questions I have are about the coins. First, they were embarked at Montevideo, so the dates and mintmarks would be of interest in determining trade patterns. Second, the coins on board the Spanish frigates captured during the action were declared "droits of crown." One hundred thousand pounds was given to the crews of the British frigates as prize money, and the rest disappeared into the Admiralty. There has never been a good account of that fund, which totaled in the millions during the course of the wars.
As for the coins themselves, there is nothing much of historical interest in them. From numismatic publications I guess that every date, mint mark, and assayer mark has been offered for sale in the past five years. Spanish real- and escudo-denominated coins are not excessively rare. From the pictures of the treasure one would surmise that the bulk of it was 8-real pieces, which sell for between $60 and $600. The 8-escudo gold coins would fetch between $1,500 and $3,000 apiece. The sheer number of pieces offered from this find would drive the prices down somewhat.
As a diver I love to explore wrecks. Would I destroy them searching for gold? I would like to think I would not. Yet I have to wonder: If I found an iron box amid the debris field of an 1804 wreck would I bring it up and open it at my leisure and in private? The chance to add period coins that I could never afford to my collection would be overwhelming. Any doubles would add a substantial amount to my bank account. If I were to declare my find, most of the value would go to lawyers' fees. But greed is evil unless you are a state.
Lastly, several hundred thousand naval officers and men died in the wars of 1792-1815. Thousands of ships were lost because of action or accident. The oceans are carpeted with places seamen died or were buried at sea. The only surviving trace of those fallen sailors would be the cannonball sewn into their hammock, which became their burial shroud. The chances of finding any discernible human remains from an 1804 shipwreck or burial at sea are infinitely small. So many shipwrecks from ancient times to the present are scattered around the world that most of the ocean floor can be considered a grave—sacred or otherwise.
Edward Von der Porten
"On Our Scope" (p. 4) and "The Trouble with Treasure" (pp. 11-25) in the August issue state that a treasure hunter claims a shipwreck he has "mined" contains an estimated $500 million treasure. She is now identified as the Spanish Nuestra Señora de las Mercedes. Let's look at the numbers.
The claim is based on the recovery of 203 gold coins that could sell for some thousands of dollars each, and about 500,000 silver coins, apparently mostly pieces of eight—dollar-size coins each weighing approximately one ounce. That type of silver coin is relatively common in the numismatic world, and presumably most of the coins are somewhat corroded—the "sea effect" usually mentioned regarding such finds. Their melt value would be about $10 each, their numismatic value not much more than that, and their souvenir or novelty value about $50. That's minus significant marketing costs, as shown in similar coin sales in advertisements in widely distributed magazines.
If 500,000 customers could be found to buy them, 500,000 coins times $50 is $25 million. Even allowing for the value of the gold coins, an enhanced value for some of the rarer silver coins, and any other as yet unmentioned artifacts, where is the $500 million value? Why publicize and thereby legitimize such an incredible claim?
More and more enlightened countries are severely restricting or banning treasure hunting because of its destructive effect on our limited historical resources. Our own Naval History & Heritage Command aggressively works to protect our historical naval assets, no matter how old or where they are found.
Let's publish good history and archaeology, not promote the claims of those who would destroy them for quick gain.
He Did Not Choose to Die
Niko V. Gjaja
I read with great interest Kathleen Broome Williams' "To Do My Duty" (August, pp. 50-57), the story of her father's devotion to his values. Even though I feel a great sympathy with Ms. Williams' pain, I cannot refrain from objecting strenuously to her phrase "and why he chose to leave my brother and me to grow up without him." I firmly believe that Major Broome, and many other World War II volunteers, went to war because of his love for his family. He fervently hoped, despite knowing the risks, that he would come back home to them, alive and victorious. In my experience, a step in maturing as a father is when a man clearly understands and consciously decides that he is willing and ready to sacrifice his own life to save those of his wife and children.
I grew up in Yugoslavia and was five when the war started for us, in April 1941. Unfortunately, I was too young to join the fight. I knew many people who volunteered to fight the occupying Germans. Later, I had many friends who were orphans of those who did not survive the war. I have known none who blamed their fathers for their being orphaned. I believe that all of them, more appropriately, blamed the enemy, which precipitated the horrendous World War II struggle.
I think most, if not all, of those brave volunteers would agree with that other father-soldier whom Ms. Williams quotes: "The sooner all realize that it is part of their job to win, the sooner it will be over." I cannot escape the full meaning it carries even today. I think that it is directly applicable to our current life-and-death struggle with the Islamic fascists.
Missing the Point
Robert Stern
While I normally respect the right of a reviewer to his opinion, I believe that Bill Gordon's review of my book Fire from the Sky (August pp. 69-70) so misrepresented the intent and content of my book as to demand a response.
I am mainly concerned that Mr. Gordon saw fit to criticize the very aspects of the book that I believe are its main strength: the consistent and complete coverage of the kamikaze assault on Allied fleets. He says it "reads like an encyclopedia" as if that were a bad thing. He likewise dismisses my analysis of kamikaze tactics and their ultimate effectiveness as "other than a few passing comments, only two short chapters." I look at the same parts of the book and see 23 pages of well-researched and well-reasoned analysis. He is correct that my description of the Japanese side of the story is simplified. It was never my intent to do more than present just enough of the Japanese side to set the scene for the main content of the book, the impact of the kamikaze weapon on individual ships and fleets and on Allied strategy.
Meriting the Medal of Honor?
Barrett Tillman
There's a postscript to the August issue's illuminating article about the ill-fated 1881-84 expedition led by Army Lieutenant Adolphus Greely ("Disaster at Lady Franklin Bay," pp. 42-49). Under other circumstances, the deaths of 19 of the expedition's 25 men might have ended Greely's career, but instead it flourished. In fact, 51 years later he received arguably the most political and least-deserved Medal of Honor in history.
In March 1935, Major General Greely received his nation's highest award for valor, 27 years after he retired and in violation of the Army warrant for the medal. In 1916, before America's entry into World War I, the Army Medal of Honor (unlike its Navy counterpart) was specifically limited to combat action. That did not prevent Congress from waiving the restriction and presenting a similarly unwarranted MoH to Charles Lindbergh in 1928.
Nonetheless, "Lucky Lindy's" citation at least identified a specific action that demonstrated exceptional courage and ability. Adolphus Greely's makes extremely poor reading. It merely states that his "life of splendid public service" began with his birth in 1844, peaked with promotion to major general in 1906, and continued until his retirement in 1908. Much of his career was spent in the Signal Corps, and he participated in relief of the San Francisco earthquake, but neither qualified him for the MoH, nor are they mentioned in the 47-word citation. Greely died in October 1935, age 91.