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Both literally and figuratively, the New Jersey has been the big ship in my life. My association with her dates back to July 1943 when, as a plebe at the Naval Academy, I visited the ship one Saturday afternoon in Annapolis Roads prior to her departure for the shakedown cruise. Three years later, I was most pleased to be assigned to her for my initial tour as a commissioned officer. Then, 23 years after that, to return as her commanding officer exceeded my fondest dreams. From the time I received orders to command this prestigious ship, it seemed too good to be true. I was afraid that all could go up in smoke. However, the chances of my sailing the ship for her second tour in Vietnam appeared to be very good, even though there were glimmers of rumors to the contrary. My calls on the Chief of Naval Personnel and the Commandant of the Marine Corps were most reassuring in the matter.
All appeared well throughout my en route travel and temporary duty assignments. While in the process of settling into a new home, I received a call from the executive officer on 16 August 1969, advising that the pre-deployment inspection scheduled to begin on the 18th had been delayed. Further, the Master Chief Petty Officer of the Navy had visited the chiefs’ quarters on board the ship that day and had informed those chiefs who would listen that the New Jersey would not go to Vietnam. Under this cloud, I reported for duty on 20 August. Ironically, that afternoon the pre-deployment ordnance review was completed with all equipment pronounced ready. The blow fell the next day when the inactivation decision was announced by the Department of Defense. The list of ships to be decommissioned was long, but the New Jersey was the only one mentioned in the initial announcement. What had been a remote fear was now cold reality. Instead of sailing for Vietnam on 5 September, the ship would depart on the 6th for Bremerton, Washington, and inactivation. The change of command was held on 27 August as scheduled but under less-than-jubilant circumstances. It was most difficult to put a good face on it, but in my brief remarks after assuming com-
mand, I set forth a goal to lay up the ship in the best condition possible so that if a call were ever sounded for a battleship, the New Jersey would be the one chosen to serve. My unannounced personal goal was to take no untoward action that might bring dishonor on the ship’s good name.
All possible preparations began for inactivation. The ammunition was unloaded, and it required a 26-car train to handle it. Personnel began to leave the ship. The many farewells were made in Long Beach. The departure on 6 September would have been quiet and perhaps uneventful had it not been for Mr. Troy M. Ziglar of the Beverly Hills Council of the Navy League. He felt that such a ship as the New Jersey should not be permitted to leave without proper ceremony and asked my permission to arrange it. I shall always be grateful to him, because he did, indeed, provide a proper parting tribute to this magnificent ship of the line. He arranged for Senator George Murphy to make a few remarks, and after a ceremony charged with emotion and an unexpected shower which did its best to supplement the tears, the battleship got under way at 0900 for Bremerton. On board were Sea Cadets from the Long Beach area and some Secretary of the Navy-sponsored guests from the Eleventh Naval District. The local flavor in the latter group made it evident to me that the Navy Department wanted the ship to be removed from the limelight as quietly and quickly as possible.
The voyage to Bremerton was uneventful. A palllike atmosphere pervaded the ship, because we all knew that this was probably the last cruise for this battleship and thus for all battleships. Upon entry into Puget Sound, I was asked by message if a band was desired on arrival. For such a sad occasion, I decided against it. The mooring in a berth across the pier from the mothballed cruisers Pittsburgh, (CA-72), Quincy, (CA-71), and Pasadena (CL-65) seemed to add to the finality of it all.
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Proceedings / December 1979
The inactivation process went into full swing. The spirit and performance of the crew were what one would expect of only the best. The rains seemed to come early that autumn—matching our somber
mood. The crew dropped in phases from 1,670 to 475. We saw a ship in C-l condition of readiness slowly bleed to death before our eyes. Finally, the task of inactivation was completed in 100 days rather than the four months allocated for such a purpose.
In preparation for the decommissioning ceremony, I invited the Under Secretary of the Navy, John W. Warner, to be the guest speaker. In a personal call, the Chief of Information advised me he would recommend that Mr. Warner not accept for the reason Well known to me—the New Jersey was to go quietly and attract as little attention as possible. My second choice of General Lewis Walt, the Assistant Commandant of the Marine Corps, was rejected on the spot by the Chief of Information. After these rebuffs, I requested the Commandant, Thirteenth Naval District, Rear Admiral Patrick J. Hannifin, to do the honors. And he did them in grand style. The Governor of the state of Washington, Daniel J. Evans, attended the ceremony and spoke briefly, recounting his days on board the New Jersey during the Korean War. For his presence, I owe a debt of gratitude to State Representative C. W. (“Red”) Beck whose district included the Bremerton area. Previously, an in- Vjtation had been extended to the governor, but he had declined. Mr. Beck intervened by inviting the governor’s attention to the fact that this was the decommissioning of the Navy’s last battleship, and that he thought it important enough for Mr. Evans to attend. Suffice it to say, he reconsidered. The ceremony was conducted with dignity, with emotion, and was attended by about 800 invited guests. It was truly an end befitting such a fine ship. Only one thing marred it in the minds of the crew members.
Proceedings / December 1079
Ensign and Mrs. Peniston posed in front of turret one of the New Jersey in 1947. In 1969, Captain Peniston returned to take command of the ship, and the couple posed again. Soon after, though, the disappointed captain left the battleship for the last time at the end of the decommissioning ceremony.
Conspicuous by its absence was the “Well Done” message normally sent to ships being decommissioned—another bit of evidence in support of the go quietly and quickly concept. This time it was not quietly, because the decommissioning ceremony received national television and press coverage.
Ever since the inactivation decision was announced, I have been unable to accept the action of the U. S. Government in depriving soldiers and marines in Vietnam of the protection the New Jersey could have provided them for a few dollars. If young men are asked to lay their lives on the line, then it is incumbent on their country to see to their needs within reason. Certainly, sailing the New Jersey to the gun line for a second Vietnam tour was well within reason. Less than three years later, there was no hesitation in sending the heavy cruiser Newport News (CA-148), the only big-gun ship then in service, from Norfolk to Vietnam at best speed to help blunt the enemy thrust that started with the 1972 Easter offensive.
The U. S. Navy’s last battleship, USS New Jersey, was decommissioned at 1412 on 17 December 1969 in the Puget Sound Naval Shipyard, Bremerton, Washington. She is now moored across a pier from her sister, the Missouri (BB-63). The last entry in the New Jersey’s command history sums up her demise very well:
“The Governor went on to another meeting (for which he was already late). The guests went home. Captain Peniston went on to command the guided missile cruiser ALBANY (CG-10) to finish his sea tour. And NEW JERSEY, she didn’t do anything. She just lay there waiting ... It was, indeed, Dreadnought Farewell.”
A graduate of the U. S. Naval Academy (Class of 1947), Captain Peniston served in the USS Putnam (DD-757), USS Cone (DD- 866), the presidential yacht Williamsburg (AGC-369), USS Willis A. Lee (DL-4), and USS Nicholas (DDE-449). He also commanded the USS Savage (DER-386), USS Tattnall (DDG-19), USS New Jersey (BB-62), and USS Albany (CG-10). Tours ashore included two in the Bureau of Naval Personnel, aide to the President of the Naval War College, the CinCLant/CinCLantFlt staffs, and the staff of the Chief of Naval Education and Training. Since his retirement from active duty in 1976, Captain Peniston has been director of the Lee Chapel, Washington and Lee University, Lexington, Virginia.
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