Enterprise’s Long History
Captain Charles T. Creekman, U.S. Navy (Retired), executive director, Naval Historical Foundation
Paul Stillwell does a great job of describing the significant role the USS Enterprise (CVN-65) has played in U.S. naval history over the last half-century (“Looking Back,” October, p. 6), as she completes what Paul and the ship’s website note as her 22nd and final deployment. The ship’s current motto, “We Are Legend,” will certainly be celebrated when the crew and families, and the carrier’s many crew member veterans, gather to bid farewell to the “Big E” at her December 2012 inactivation ceremony.
But sometimes longevity can have its pitfalls, as we found at the Naval Historical Foundation when we were checking the Navy Department Library’s collection of Enterprise cruise books for completeness as the ship winds up this supposed 22nd deployment. When the numbers didn’t add up, we went back to the ship’s history and double-checked with the Naval History and Heritage Command. As it turns out, this mainstay of the U.S. Fleet has actually completed 24 deployments, with this final voyage being number 25. What an amazing “op tempo”—more than 51 years of peace, crisis, and war (hot and cold)!
Lieutenant Commander David K. Sturges, U.S. Naval Reserve (Retired)
Amid the celebration of the USS Enterprise’s 50 years of service, I was very pleased to see Paul Stillwell’s “Looking Back” column giving recognition to Vice Admiral Kent Liston Lee’s service with her.
As a former X Division crew member when he was her commanding officer, I witnessed Kent Lee squarely facing a number of operational challenges beyond the ship’s showboat aura of the time as the Navy’s first nuclear-powered and largest carrier. On Yankee Station, with the 7th Fleet, she, indeed, had to be worked in the grime and sweat of high-tempo combat while maintaining, as Stillwell aptly put, the “spit-and-polish atmosphere of the command.” It involved “Enterprise Standards,” as we were drilled to regard them.
At the time, I was a journalist second class in the ship’s PAO shop, assisting with activities that had to accommodate both the constant VIP focus on board the Enterprise and situations in which being nuclear-powered was not always to the ship’s advantage.
In the mid- and late fall of 1967, just after then-Captain Lee relieved Captain (later Admiral and CNO) James Holloway as her CO, we hosted visits by both Vice President Hubert Humphrey and President Lyndon Johnson, while doing carrier qualifications for new pilots and predeployment training up and down the West Coast. I was editor of The Big E, the ship’s monthly magazine sent home and through the Fleet and CHINFO media circuit. Needless to say, our involvement in successive “presidentials” kept us hopping.
On the way to WESTPAC and Yankee Station in January 1968, Lee had to take her through a small typhoon with seas that broke water 40 feet up onto the flight deck. He then took her into Sasebo, Japan, for the Navy’s first nuclear-vessel port call there. The Japanese were then very squeamish about the presence of anything nuclear in the area. Outside the base, our liberty parties were greeted by demonstrations and negative press. However, we pulled it off amid the tension, together with our skipper, and the defusing dignity of Enterprise Standards changed the perception of risk to friendship.
On the way south, at a moment when we suddenly noticed the sun setting on the port instead of the starboard side, Kent came on the 1MC to tell us we were being quietly ordered into the Sea of Japan in response to the developing USS Pueblo crisis. During our weeks off Korea, in heavy, almost gale, everyday weather, we carried on, many of us suffering from colds and bronchitis.
Then south we finally went to Yankee Station once more to help handle Rolling Thunder and Steel Tiger operations and interdiction bombing during the push of the Tet Offensive. By June when we finished our deployment, I was slated to rotate to shore duty. When we tied up at Naval Air Station Alameda, Captain Lee called me over just for a sailor-to-sailor chat to wish me well. That kind of personal attention from his CO was an honor for any white hat, and I will always treasure that memory and the opportunity of serving under Kent Lee.
Carrier for Loan?
Norman Polmar
Former Navy Secretary John Lehman’s first-person discussion of U.S.-British cooperation during the Falklands conflict was interesting and illuminating (“Reflections on the Special Relationship,” October, pp. 38–45). It was highly unlikely, however, that the United States would have loaned the helicopter carrier Iwo Jima (LPH-2) to the Royal Navy.
Would the U.S. government have allowed its sailors to operate the ship in a war zone? If not, it would have taken weeks, if not months, for a British crew—after being assembled and flown to the United States—to train on the ship’s propulsion system, electronics, etc. And after the loss of one of their two carriers, would the British have had sufficient Harriers and helicopters to operate from the Iwo Jima? (There were no “spare” Harriers left in Britain.) Or would U.S. Marine Corps aircraft have been provided? With different aircraft systems, some training time would have been required for British pilots. Indeed, were there British (Royal Air Force or Royal Navy) pilots available to train on U.S. Harriers? Or would U.S. Marine pilots fly from the Iwo Jima?
All of these factors argue against the United States providing a helicopter carrier in time to influence the conflict. Finally, Britain soon had a third “Harrier carrier” available: HMS Illustrious was commissioned on 18 June 1982. She was a sister ship to the Invincible, one of the two British carriers in the South Atlantic. The Illustrious arrived off the Falklands in late August 1982—undoubtedly before the Iwo Jima could have been available. Thus, in my opinion, the transfer of the Iwo Jima to the White Ensign was highly impractical and unlikely.
Editor’s note: Mr. Polmar was a member of the committee convened by Secretary Lehman in 1982 to determine the lessons of the Falklands conflict for the U.S. Navy.
Japanese Sea Lords
James W. Grace
I really enjoyed John Prados’ “Japan’s Sea Lords in the South Pacific” (October, pp. 52–58) but was surprised by the omission of several admirals. Vice Admiral Hiroaki Abe was an experienced veteran in command of Battleship Division 11, tasked with repeating “the Night” as part of the November offensive. His subordinate, Rear Admiral Susumu Kimura, also highly experienced, got a passing mention, but the third flag officer, Rear Admiral Tamotsu Takama, was also ignored. I wonder if these men were omitted because their battle on 13 November 1942 resulted in the loss of the flagship, the battleship Hiei, and the failure to bombard Henderson Field and led to Abe’s forced retirement?
Editor’s note: Mr. Grace is the author of The Naval Battle of Guadalcanal (Naval Institute Press, 1999).
Mr. Prados responds: Thank you for this inquiry. It is true that the Japanese officers who led several of the units at the 13 November battle were passed over in “Sea Lords.” Admiral Abe and his colleagues are discussed at considerable length—and specifically in the context of the Naval Battle of Guadalcanal—in my book Islands of Destiny: The Solomons Campaign and the Eclipse of the Rising Sun (NAL/Caliber, 2012). My purpose in the article was to go beyond the book rather than to repeat, except where essential to the story, what is in it. You’ll find a wide variety of material on the Japanese side in Islands of Destiny.
More on the Cuban Crisis
Colonel H. Wayne Whitten, U.S. Marine Corps (Retired)
In the main, Thomas B. Allen’s article (“‘Mr President, The Navy Will Not Let You Down,’” October, pp. 16–23) was both timely and forthright in recapping the key actions taken by the U.S. Navy during the Cuban Missile Crisis some 50 years ago. Unquestionably, it was one of the Navy’s greatest accomplishments during a Cold War that nearly turned red hot. However, the author is remiss in not mentioning the role the Marine Corps, the other naval force, played leading up to and during the crisis.
The author notes that the beginning of the crisis actually dates back to September 1960, when a Soviet freighter with a load of military cargo departed for Cuba. Coincidentally, that was the same month Marine Composite Reconnaissance Squadron (VMCJ) 2 began to fly unofficial electronic reconnaissance missions around Cuba in their F3D-2Q Skyknights. Over the next two years the Marines would take the lead in building the Cuban electric order of battle including recording the first intercepts of Russian-designed fire control and GCI radars that signaled that Fidel Castro was building a sophisticated air-defense network on the Soviet model. It is not surprising that shortly after a high-flying U-2 returned with pictures of SA-2 SAM sites under construction in late August, the Marines intercepted a missile-control radar confirming these frontline Soviet defensive missiles were about to become operational.
The director of the CIA had no doubt the SAMs were there to keep the vulnerable U-2s from discovering some high-value targets and thwarting air strikes that would logically follow. He suspected the installation of offensive strategic ballistic missiles and realized that high-resolution photography was needed that could only be obtained by tactical photo aircraft flying at low levels. That capability was the forte of the RF-8A Crusaders flown by the Navy’s Light Photographic Squadron (VFP) 62 and VMCJ-2, its Marine counterpart. VFP-62 had recently gained valuable experience in employing a new camera optimized for low-level photography and was chosen to take the lead for the expected contingency, with augmentation by four VMCJ-2 aircraft and pilots.
When President John F. Kennedy was given the news on 16 October that a U-2 had discovered construction of medium-range ballistic missiles in western Cuba, he personally ordered initiation of low-level reconnaissance, and it would be his Navy–Marine Corps team that would deliver the up-close and personal photos of the nuclear weapon sites during the critical first week of the naval quarantine. (Of note, these missions, flown out of Key West, recovered at Naval Air Station Jacksonville and not Cecil Field as reflected in the article.)
At the end of the crisis, a grateful President Kennedy authorized the award of Navy Unit Commendations to both squadrons, the first in history during peacetime.
Editor’s note: Colonel Whitten is the author of Countdown to 13 Days and Beyond: U.S. Marine Aerial Reconnaissance Operations against Castro’s Cuba, 1960–1990 (Banner Digital Publishing, 2012).
Mr. Allen responds: I am sorry that my focus on the Navy eclipsed the accomplishments of the Marines, whose role is deservedly recalled by Colonel Whitten. Although my article mentioned events leading up to the crisis, I concentrated on the events of the crisis itself, especially at sea. I certainly did not ignore the Marines who were braced to defend Guantanamo and storm Cuban beaches. I welcome Colonel Whitten’s letter, which brings recognition to the Marine unit that flew before and during the crisis.
Captain Patrick Moloney, Master, SS Jeremiah O’Brien (Liberty ship, San Francisco)
I received my October issue today and noted with interest the photo on page 17 in the Cuban Missile Crisis article (“‘Mr. President, The Navy Will Not Let You Down’”). The Soviet freighter being escorted by the USS Vesole (DD-878) is the Ivan Polzunov. She was a Liberty ship, built in Richmond, California, Kaiser Yard #2, in 1943 as the Charles E. Duryea and immediately lend-leased to the Soviet Union as the Orel. Somehow, as with many of the Liberties, she never came back and was renamed the Polzunov and ultimately scrapped in 1973. Sort of makes you wonder if the Soviets using a Liberty to remove missiles from Cuba was deliberate, or if she was just available.
J. J. Stevenson III
I am no fan of Robert McNamara, and I dearly love and respect the U.S. Navy. However, I was appalled to read in the October issue of Naval History (“‘Mr. President, The Navy Will Not Let You Down,’”) that the CNO (Admiral George Anderson) told the secretary of Defense, in effect, to butt out during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Hard to say, but it appears that the author (Thomas Allen) apparently thinks that this was appropriate. The fact is that Admiral Anderson should have been sacked on the spot.
Mr. Allen responds: I quoted from a historical account. Neither the account nor I said anything about whether Admiral Anderson acted appropriately.
Commander Harold H. Sacks, U.S. Navy (Retired)
Mr. Allen’s article (“‘Mr. President, The Navy Will Not Let You Down’”) was an excellent reminder of the tensions surrounding the crisis of 1962. In 1960 the final project of the postgraduate class at the Naval Intelligence School in Anacostia was to develop a plan of action in the event Soviet offensive weapons were introduced into Cuba. We concluded that a “pacific blockade”—which, unlike a “belligerent blockade,” is not an act of war—was the best course of action, and the operation order developed by my classmates was circulated around the Fleet. During the planning stages described by author Thomas Allen, CINCLANTFLT sent for a copy of our paper, and much of what we had concluded was realized in the actual deployment of forces during the crisis.
More Turkeys and Swans
Norman Friedman
Both letters in the October issue’s “In Contact” (p. 8) about my article “Judging the Good from the Bad” (August, pp. 32–39) are, in effect, reflections on a theme in the story: The best ships are the ones that last longest and are most adaptable to changing circumstances. Of course it is better to fight a war with new, entirely modern ships, but in fact that is only rarely possible. A navy usually has to live with a mainly older fleet because it normally cannot hope for large numbers of new ships each year. The buildups to the two world wars were exceptional, particularly that of 1940–42. Even so, through 1943 the U.S. Navy fought with a large number of older ships.
The larger the ship, the greater the chance that she would be older, because the proportion of large ships built each year is necessarily small. (The exception to all of this would be if a revolutionary change put the fleet of older hulls out of the first line.) The impossibility of getting enough new production incidentally now applies to airplanes as well as to ships; notice how few are bought each year.
I am well aware that the great number of large destroyer escorts was conceived for the antisubmarine war envisaged in the 1960s and 1970s. However, a Spruance destroyer, as built, was apparently not much more expensive than a frigate—and the space in her hull made it possible to give her a different role once the Cold War antisubmarine-warfare emphasis was gone. A Knox frigate was a much tighter and less adaptable design. Another relevant point is that the nature of even the ASW battle changed during the 1970s and 1980s, as the Soviets fielded Charlie-class submarines armed with antiship missiles. They could have wiped out Knox escorts, leaving whatever was convoyed to be sunk by torpedoes.
Finally, there is the question of how good the U.S. 5-inch/38-caliber gun was in comparison with various Royal Navy guns. I think that the reputation of the 5/38 was excellent even before its shells were proximity-fuzed, but part of that reputation resulted from the excellence of the U.S. fire-control system (the British HACS was not particularly successful). The British themselves wanted to adopt the 5/38 in 1941, and only gave up because the U.S. Navy needed all of the guns that could be manufactured for its own expanding building program.
The 5/38 combined a large shell with the ability to fire rapidly. The British 5.25-inch gun, for example, fired much more slowly. As for proximity fuzes, the Royal Navy’s wartime experience seems not to have been as successful as that of the U.S. Navy; it is not clear why. British records do show that for a time in 1942 there was serious interest in discarding medium-caliber antiaircraft guns in favor of more automatic weapons (mainly 2-pounders), but that the medium-caliber weapons were saved by the advent of the proximity fuze.
Terrance J. McKearney
I’d add a codicil to Dr. Friedman’s excellent observations regarding “turkey-ism” for some ship types (“Judging the Good from the Bad”). Some ships are condemned to an early retirement by the rapid advance of a specific technology that makes them obsolete, or partially obsolete, before their time. I’m thinking of steam engineering plants, which came to an abrupt demise with the advent of gas-turbine and large diesel propulsion engines in the 1970s and 1980s.
The advantages of more-efficient and easier-to-maintain gas-turbine plants for destroyers and frigates over our late 1,200-psi plants is the prime example. Once we committed to gas-turbine propulsion for the Spruance, Perry, and Ticonderoga classes, the “1,200-pounders’” days were numbered, although as Dr. Friedman points out in the case of the Knox class, the wholesale paying off of the class was hastened by the end of the Cold War. The highly regarded and versatile Adams-class DDGs met a similar fate, although there was some consideration of backfitting them with gas turbines.
The block obsolescence of a ship class based on major technology shifts is not strictly due to enhanced capabilities in the replacement. Often the driving factors, such as in the case of gas turbines and diesel over steam, is the expense of maintaining the logistics train associated with the technology, including training, personnel, and maintenance. It makes good economic sense to drop the “turkeys” and move on to the newer technology.
But herein lies a problem for the contemporary Fleet: The mass extinction of ship classes due to technology replacement has meant that we are not getting the planned return on investment from some of our ship classes—escorts, in particular—that never make it to their planned retirement. Consequently, we will see diminishing force structure in future years. Current shortfalls in ship numbers can be traced to the shortened life span of ship classes we retired early, not because they were necessarily 100 percent USDA premium-grade turkeys, but because they were getting too expensive to feed.