“The Amphibious Revolution”
(See R.B. Frank, pp. 20-26, August 2005 Naval History)
Ensign C.H. Hollander, U.S. Navy (Retired)
Throughout the article I kept looking for a mention of the amphibious force flagships, AGCs. Originally rated combined operations communications headquarters ships, these vessels were fitted as flagships for chiefs of combined forces, with accommodation for attached Marine or Army units. Radar and radio equipment was exceptionally elaborate.
In April 1943, as a 22-year-old chief yeoman, I was assigned to duty fitting out and commissioning the USS Appalachian (AGC-1) in Brooklyn, New York. We participated in the occupation of Kwajalein, the capture and occupation of Guam, and the Leyte landings. AGCs were given no publicity during the war and it looks like the secrecy has held. To this day it is hard to find the name Appalachian in any books on naval history. It has been a well-kept secret.
The concept of the AGC was of primary importance to the success of amphibian warfare. I don’t see how it could be left out of such an article.
Richard B. Frank
One small error crept in during editing. With respect to the section on Intelligence and Deception, I referred in my draft to Makin, but was not clear on what I meant. I was referring to the Makin landing in November 1943, not the raid in August 1942.
Don White
As an old amphib, I thought the issue was excellent. However, the APA was barely mentioned and since not one remains, even a photo would have been nice to see. I served on the USS New Kent (APA-217) and the Okaloosa (APA-219). Like many vets I remember much of that experience so long ago. The book and movie Away All Boats were not mentioned, as they should be. I also served on a destroyer. The book The Last Stand of the Tin Can Sailors is just out. It is a memorable story of indescribable courage that should be taught in schools. I read this with a lump in my throat and not a few tears. These sailors must never be forgotten.
“An Unlikely Location”
(See H.J. Hendrix II, pp. 37-41, August 2005 Naval History)
Lieutenant Commander Robert Wallace Blake, U.S. Naval Reserve (Retired)
For as long as I have known, the Portsmouth Navy Yard has been physically located in Kittery, Maine, across the harbor from Portsmouth, New Hampshire. I am not familiar with Building 86, but if it was part of the yard it must have been in Kittery at the time of the peace conference in 1905.
Surely this unusual location may well have been a part of the security considerations in the selection of that yard as a site for the conference. It could have been easy to close land access on the Maine side, then have the Navy control the boats from Portsmouth for the delegates and the press. It would have been like holding the conference on an island.
I am surprised that no mention was made of this geography in Commander Hendrix’ otherwise detailed article.
I have one remaining question: where was the “social event” held on the evening of 17 August?
[Endnote 2, which was published on the Naval History web site but not in the magazine, stated: “The yard actually fell within the boundaries of the neighboring state of Maine, but it would be Portsmouth that would be remembered by history. Raymond A. Esthus, Double Eagle and the Rising Sun (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1988), 52.”
The social event was held at Jaffrey Cottage, located between Portsmouth and New Castle, which had been provided for the use of Assistant Secretary of State Peirce.]
“Forgotten Sub Reexamined”
(See “Naval History News,” p. 62, August 2005 Naval History)
Eugene R. Tatro
The article begins stating that on 19 June 1941, USS O-9 (SS-70) left New London, Connecticut, with two other O-class boats for tests off the Isles of Shoals. After the two other boats had completed their tests, at 0738 hours on 20 June, O-9 dove to conduct deep submergence tests. The 23-year-old submarine never surfaced.
The third paragraph states, “O-9 was operating in the same area, about 15 miles off Portsmouth, New Hampshire, where two years previously the USS Squalus (SS-192) was lost. . .”
The fifth paragraph states, “The Research Center’s staff and crew were able to confirm the exact position of O-9. The submarine is at an upright angle at an average depth of 409 feet and remains virtually intact despite the decades it has spent on the New London seabed.”
So where exactly did the O-9 sink— off Portsmouth, New Hampshire, or New London, Connecticut?
[The O-9 sank east of the Isles of Shoals, which are approximately ten miles off Portsmouth, New Hampshire. The first two references are accurate. The third’s reference to New London is in error.]
“McNamara Kills the Pilatus Porter”
(See Miller, pp. 46-51, June 2005 Naval History)
Captain Thomas W. Glickman, U.S. Navy (Retired)
I was the operations officer for the River Patrol Force through most of 1968. One of my responsibilities was giving the command briefing to visitors. In the summer of 1968, Admiral Thomas H. Moorer, the CNO, and a group of staff members visited our headquarters in Binh Thuy. An important part of our command brief was HA(L)-3, the “Seawolves,” that provided our close air support.
The briefing included comments to the effect that the original agreement between the Army and Navy was that the Army would provide 49 aircraft, but in reality, we received about half that number. As the aircraft we received were UH-1Bs, the Army was hard-pressed to provide replacement aircraft when we had an operations loss.
At that point, Admiral Moorer interrupted me with the comment to the effect that we were not going to receive replacement helos; instead, we were to receive fixed-wing aircraft. Silence reigned. One or two questions by Admiral Moorer confirmed we had no knowledge of such plans. He then turned to his staff and essentially asked why the OPNAV staff was making decisions affecting the operating forces without those in the field being aware of the action? The admiral then gave us a quick brief on the actions to provide us fixed-wing close air support in the form of the OV-10s that later became VAL-4’s “Black Ponies.” Before my departure in November 1968, Pacific Architects and Engineering was busy constructing the runway for what became Fleet Air Support Unit Binh Thuy.
William J. Ostapchuk
In his article, Vice Admiral Gerald Miller recounts how Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara’s micromanagement of the military resulted in the cancellation of a non-competitive bid for purchase of Pi- latus Porter aircraft. A design of Pilatus Flugzeugwerke AG of Switzerland, it was built under license by Fairchild Industries and was intended to replace the aging detachment of helicopters used in the “Riverine Project.” The author’s contention is that Dr. Lynn L. Bollinger “wrote a simple ‘Dear Bob’ letter to McNamara protesting the non-competitive aspects, contending that he had a plane under development that could do the job and wanted support.” Thus “[h]e took advantage of his personal association with the Secretary of Defense to try to kill the competition, and he was successful.”
As the author points out, Dr. Bollinger did write a letter to the Secretary of Defense protesting aspects of the non-competitive bid award. The “aspects” of the non-competitive procurement that he protested included the failure to announce the impending purchase as required and the failure to conduct a competitive evaluation of the two aircraft. Subsequently, the chairman of the House Armed Services Committee criticized both the secretary of defense and the U.S. Navy in the Congressional Record because of this. As a result, the secretary of defense cancelled the initial procurement.
Dr. Bollinger’s protest was consistent with his belief in the competitive marketplace and his advocacy of the Helio Stallion as a better design. His protest may have delayed the purchase of aircraft for the brown-water navy pending a head-to-head evaluation of both aircraft by the Navy.
One may ask why a competitive evaluation was not initially conducted and how the two aircraft compared in actual flight tests when the Navy conducted a competitive evaluation as requested by the Secretary of Defense.
Furthermore, the results of the Air Force’s competitive evaluation of AU-23A, Pilatus Porter “Peacemaker,” and the AU- 24A, Helio “Stallion,” may have bearing on this discussion. It may be as the author suggests that the needs of the two services were different. While this may be true, the author’s description of the armed Pilatus Porter and his inclusion of pictures of both “mini-gunships” acknowledge the potential use of the selected aircraft to help the brown-water navy reconnoiter and interdict the flow of men and material, a purpose that was similar to the Air Force’s “Credible Chase” program. Thus the results of the head-to-head evaluation may have merit for those reviewing this matter today. This would be particularly interesting to note if, for example, the constant recoil from the fire of the 20mm Gatling cannon popped rivets or affected the structural integrity of one or both aircraft.
In sum, I found the recollection of Vice Admiral Miller vivid and that he expressed the feelings of those who felt that the procurement should have been approved, but it also raised interesting questions that were not answered.
“Hellish Prelude at Okinawa”
(See J. Alexander, p. 20, April 2005 Naval History)
Rusty Bloxom
A minor correction needs to be made to Colonel Joseph Alexander’s fine article. The USS New York (BB-34) had compiled an exemplary record of gunfire support during Operation Torch in North Africa and would go on to perform outstanding service at Iwo Jima and Okinawa. In June 1944, she was conducting invaluable training for gunners in the Chesapeake Bay. It was her sister ship, the USS Texas (BB- 35), that stood in the gun line at Normandy during the D-Day invasion.
“Pensacola Days”
(See H. Goodspeed, pp. 46-49, August 2005 Naval History)
Edgar C. Smith
While I met him only once, Frank Simpson Jr., the subject of the article, had a considerable influence on my life.
In the fall of 1938 I was just twelve years old and beginning the seventh grade in Los Angeles. One of my new school friends, Frank Simpson III, invited me to a party, a belated birthday party as he had also turned twelve that summer. For this occasion his father had arranged to take a group of eight or ten of us boys to Long Beach and visit the battleship USS Maryland (BB- 46) as personal guests of the captain, William A. Glassford (later vice admiral). It seemed that when he was in the Navy, my friend’s father, Frank Simpson Jr., had known Captain Glassford and kept up the acquaintance.
We boys were taken down to the Navy pier at Long Beach where a small boat, the captain’s gig, was waiting for us. It was in the charge of a young ensign—the first time that I had ever heard of such a Navy rank as well as the first time I had seen, much less been in, such a boat. It was a short ride out to the Maryland, which we boarded and were treated to a private tour of the ship. It was gigantic to my young eyes! I recall one bit of conversation on that tour. One of the sailors asked the one who was guiding us around, “Who are these?” The response was, “The captain’s boys.” Following this we met Captain Glassford and had lunch with him in his dining room. I remember being impressed by the Marines in full uniform standing at each door.
This was a pretty heady experience for a twelve-year-old. It so excited me that I have been a Navy booster every since— and joined the Navy myself when I graduated from Los Angeles High School (as did Frank Simpson III) in 1944.
“All Signs Pointed to Pearl Harbor”
(See E.B. Canfield, pp. 42-46, December 2004 Naval History; M. Gannon, p. 16, April 2005 Naval History; H.L. Elman, p. 10, and E. Stoffregen, p. 11, August 2005 Naval History)
Eugene B. Canfield
In the April 2005 Naval History, p. 16, Michael Gannon is correct in stating the Martin-Bellanger estimate is dated 31 March 1941, and does not indicate the direction from which the attack would be launched. Part III of the estimate, Possible Enemy Action, (b) states, “It appears that the most likely and dangerous form of attack on Oahu would be an air attack. It is believed that at present such an attack would most likely be launched from one or more carriers which would probably approach inside of 300 miles.”
The book On the Treadmill to Pearl Harbor, The Memoirs of Admiral James O. Richardson (as told to Vice Admiral George C. Dwyer, Naval History Division, Department of the Navy, Washington, D.C., 1973, p. 431, “Why the Senator’s Question [Senator Ferguson of the Pearl Harbor Investigating Committee] Was Not Answered More Fully”) contains Admiral Richardson’s reasoning: “It was my belief then, and is my belief now, that few committees of Congress are interested in ascertaining factual truths in a matter under investigation. The members are primarily interested in obtaining from witnesses statements that can be used to political advantage of their political party (Democratic or Republican). I think this was particularly true of the Joint Committee investigating the Pearl Harbor Attack.
“As Senator Lucas (Democrat-Illinois) said, ‘When I know the background of this thing (the Congressional Investigation into the Pearl Harbor Attack), . . .and when I hear about a non-partisan investigation dealing with facts alone, I am tempted to laugh. . . I, too, want the facts, but there are some folks who want political facts.’”
Thus, Richardson, and, no doubt, others answered questions truthfully, but gave no more information than necessary. This may be the reason why the following study was entered into the evidence, not by one of those giving testimony, but by the General Counsel, William D. Mitchell, who attributed it to General Martin and Admiral Bellinger, though the study bears no signatures.
In the Hearings, Part 1, p. 387, the study is headed “Headquarters Hawaiian Air Force, Office of the Air Force Commander (T-3), Hickam Field, T. H., 20 August 1941,” and is unsigned. Though somewhat lengthy, the study suggests the enemy will attack generally from the north (p. 393) with possibly six carriers (p. 394), the optimum time of attack being the early morning (p. 391), and, on pp. 394-396, recommends a response in defense.
Unfortunately, I neither read my edited article nor the caption under the Ostfriesland photograph. I did not write the caption nor did I proof it before publication. In the August issue, Colonel Elman, p. 10, caught the caption errors. I believe the body of my article makes it clear that the Ostfriesland was a battleship, not a battlecruiser. Indeed, even the armor thickness is given. Additionally, there is no mention of Billy Mitchell’s courts-martial. His trial resulted from his unrestrained public remarks and accusations concerning the tragic crash of the Navy rigid airship Shenandoah at Ava, Ohio, September 1925. It is most unfortunate that Mitchell was unable to work within the system for the good of all airmen rather than being the unrestrained “loose cannon” to the detriment of himself and airmen in general.
In the same issue, p. 11, Major Stoffregen is duly proud of the accomplishments of naval aviation in sinking Japanese ships in World War II, but claims that Billy Mitchell proved nothing by “sinking an unmanned, non-maneuvering ship unable to dodge or fight back. . . ”
With due respect, Mitchell proved that it was possible to sink a battleship, exactly the goal he set out to accomplish, which the battleship navy did not think possible. Mitchell showed that the aircraft— future aircraft—would become a major weapon. Apparently the Japanese were impressed for they developed an 800-kilogram (1,760-pound) bomb from 16.1-inch armor-piercing projectiles. These bombs had to be dropped from 3,000 meters (10,000 feet) in order to have the correct velocity for maximum effect in penetrating the armored decks of the battleship targets. It is estimated that of approximately 50 bombs dropped by the Japanese at Pearl Harbor, only nine hit targets (Battleship Arizona. Paul Stillwell. Annapolis, MD: U.S. Naval Institute Press, 1991. Pp. 261, 274-276.). The Arizona was struck by four bombs, one of which penetrated sufficiently to cause the magazine for the two forward turrets to explode. The hull of the Arizona exhibits no sign of torpedo damage. Thus, the Japanese accomplished exactly what Mitchell foresaw, from 10,000 feet, rather higher than the probable altitude of 6,000 feet of the MB-2 aircraft against the Ostfriesland. The additional difficulty in striking moving targets is irrelevant at Pearl Harbor, for the battleships were lined up along Ford Island. Although naval anti-aircraft fire went into play about five minutes after the attack began, it was relatively ineffective against the Japanese attacking force, just as many Italian guns shot down only two British Swordfish at Taranto.
At the Naval Ordnance Test Station in the California desert in the 1960s, I noted that pilots did not always hit their stationary targets, even with their more advanced weapons control equipment. A maneuvering target increases the difficulty because the target may change its course during the time after the bomb is released. The Japanese quickly learned to present a circling target to increase the difficulty of weapon delivery, especially if the delivery computations were based on the target continuing on a straight-line course. Dive- bombing and airborne torpedo delivery greatly improved results.
If Billy Mitchell had lived, however—he died in 1936—he would have cheered the accomplishments of both Navy and Army pilots, regardless of air service. He was always a hard taskmaster and controversial person. Not all his pilots liked or praised him. Indeed, even today there is little middle ground. One either loves him or hates him, as shown by Stoffregen’s letter.