Emergencies calling for the services of regular naval personnel in the Americas have been rare in this decade. However, circumstances had contrived to place our fleet on the California coast in 1932 and then in August, 1933, stirred up a revolt in Cuba. In consequence, not regular personnel but the Reserve Divisions of Charleston and Georgetown, South Carolina, on board the U.S.S. Taylor off the Florida Keys on the night of August 12, 1933, were abruptly shunted out of the routine of a two weeks’ reserve cruise, just begun, to engage in a major mission of protection to American life and property in a city torn with the violence of revolution.
August 12, Sunday, had been spent quietly in the business of getting all hands acclimated. It was during evening twilight that the Tropical Radio Company station in Havana raised the Taylor and transmitted a message from the U. S. Ambassador requesting the Taylor to enter the harbor of Havana prepared for any eventuality as soon as possible. The circuit was held open for the information as to the Taylor’s time of arrival and the radio operator delivered the message to the captain. The ship was a matter of 160 miles from the Cuban capital. At 20 knots the ship could arrive at two o’clock in the morning. A faster passage could have been made but 8 hours at least was needed to transform 100 officers and men, a little over 24 hours away from the professions and trades of civil life, into man-o’-war’s men ready to effectively fight the ship’s battery as well as to form a landing force. There was no assurance as to how the entrance of the American ship into the harbor would be received. It was not known whether any responsible authority controlled the city. All that was known definitely was that the military attaché of the embassy would endeavor to contact the ship near the entrance to impart fresh information and to assist in selecting the most advantageous anchorage.
(See illustration page 574.)
The reserve officers responded splendidly to this unexpected turn of events. One was mayor of the city of Georgetown as well as the commanding officer of its division. Another was the principal of the latter city’s high school. There was a lawyer, a gentleman farmer, and a business man in the Charleston division. The enlisted reservists were of the highest type of American manhood. Not the least outstanding among them were 3 motorcycle policemen, hearty, keen, and accustomed to leading. It was natural that around these as enlisted men and a chief boatswain’s mate, who was the Charleston Navy Yard’s chief rigger, the organization as it affected the Reserves should be built.
The Taylor’s regular crew were sufficient to man one gun and they were assigned to the forecastle gun. Georgetown was assigned the waist guns and Charleston the after gun and the anti-aircraft.
That Sunday evening men who had never before seen a large-caliber gun were stationed, instructed, and tested in their duties at gun stations. As soon as that had been done the organization of the landing force began. This force was 100 per cent Reserve as the regular crew were insufficient for even a squad. Consequently the regular crew were to remain at their forecastle gun in order to be able to render artillery support to the landing force should it be required. A guard which was to escort the captain to the embassy was also organized.
It was a considerable task requiring orderliness and wholehearted co-operation and naval commanders can take heart for the future as to what to expect from our Reserve in national emergencies, so well was it done. Every small arm was cleaned of its preservative, light packs made up, machine gun pans loaded, Very lights and pistols checked, and a system of signals between the ship and the shore established. Then the equipment was issued and each man instructed in its use.
By midnight the last chore, 10 rounds of service ammunition to each 4-inch gun’s ready racks and 20 rounds each of 3-inch anti-aircraft shell and star shell to the anti-aircraft ready boxes, had been completed. The ammunition passing crews were made up from the off-section watch of the engineer force. At this time the lights of Havana were a dull glow on the horizon.
Although all hands were advised to get as much rest as possible when they could be spared, it was hardly necessary to sound General Quarters. The ship was then some 5 miles from the entrance. The city was brilliantly lighted and seemed like an immense jewel. The light of the moon, now high and bright in the southwest, was reflected from the buildings of the city, most of which are built of the intense white West Indian coral limestone. But there was no sign of life or movement of any kind in the streets or even on the Prado, which could be plainly seen from the Taylor's, bridge as most of Havana is only a few feet above the level of the bay. To those aboard the Taylor the spectacle was a fascinating one, and one which they will remember a long time.
At 2:00 a.m. exactly when the ship was headed fair in the channel but still outside the entrance, the effect was rendered still more startling by the entire absence of any sound from the city. The Embarcadero was only a matter of a half mile distant on the starboard hand. Whatever speculations anyone may have had on this score were suddenly interrupted by a lookout’s report of a dark shape moving out of the shadows below Morro Castle. Owing to the position of the moon this area was in inky blackness. Although the military attaché was expected near the entrance it would be from the Punta Castle side of the entrance, that is the city side, from which he would appear. Considerable concern was felt therefore as the reported shape gradually came closer. A dim light showed and then a voice spoke across the water in muffled, indistinguishable Spanish. Word was megaphoned from the bridge of the Taylor, then moving at about 5 knots, that a pilot was not desired. It was fervently hoped by all hands that the stranger was indeed a pilot boat. However, as the craft continued its approach, the forecastle gun was trained on it. The range was almost point blank although the order to load had not been given, when the bridge megaphoned again, this time in Spanish, that no pilot was desired. The pilot boat, for that indeed it was, sheered off and all hands breathed more freely. But not for long.
The heights of Morro Castle loomed up on the left. Anxious eyes scanned the gray walls for some hint of activity. None appeared. The silence and immobility were disconcerting. The personnel about the Taylor’s, decks must have been plainly visible to those on either shore for all lights were burning and a signal searchlight was trained on the colors streaming from the gaff. The city contained some half million people and although it was indeed late it was difficult to link revolution with the peace and silent brilliance which was now beheld. When the Taylor was abreast the Cuban Navy Building on the Embarcadero a pulling boat started out of the shadows and hailed the ship. It was the embassy’s military attaché and the ship slowed to permit him to come aboard by the sea ladder. His reports were not encouraging. Up until a curfew had been established armed mobs had roamed the city in quest of Machadists. Machado himself had fled by airplane to Nassau. At daylight the peace of that warm, humid night would be shattered by a resumption of the “Muerte Machadisto” frenzy. Every institution, such as newspapers which had supported Machado, every Person who had served the ex-president, even to his barber, was marked for the ‘death by the drag,” but those most eagerly sought were Porra, the chief of the secret police and his men.
A few soldiers could now be seen on the water front. It was apparent that their mission was to prevent the “departure” of members of the Machado regime. Up ahead a steamer backed into the channel and started downstream. As she passed the Taylor and those about her decks caught sight of the colors, cheering broke forth which echoed and re-echoed between the ships.
Off Regla not far from the last anchorage of the Maine, the Taylor anchored. The guns except the forecastle gun were secured and the landing force paraded and then secured. The gig, which had been fitted with Lewis guns and boat mounts, came alongside. The captain’s guard, which included the Georgetown motorcycle policemen armed with automatics, entered, followed by the captain and the military attaché, and they departed for the embassy.
When the captain returned it was learned that the revolution was a “family affair” not at present involving outsiders. However, its course could not be predicted. While settling down to a waiting routine thoughts were once more turned to the objectives of the reserve cruise on Monday morning. No drills at the guns were permitted because of the unsettling effect the movement of the guns might have ashore. The wisdom of this decision was seen by all hands, for throughout that week the city resounded to the rattle of sporadic machine-gun fire indicating each time that some unfortunate Machadist’s hiding place had been discovered. Nevertheless in spite of considerable “skull” practice, concern was felt for the fate of the Short Range Battle Practice, always the climax of the reserve cruise and for which competition is very keen among divisions nationally to gain the higher standings.
Late Monday afternoon the Cuban naval ships Cuba and Patria entered the harbor, the Cuba mooring to the Embarcadero and the Patria anchoring near the Taylor. On the exchange of calls the concern of the Cuban officers for their fate was evident although the visits were characterized by the most cordial friendship and pleasantry. They knew it was hardly possible they could escape the classification as “Machadists.” Subsequently several who had visited aboard the Taylor were in the famous siege of the Nacional Hotel and later were lodged in the Presidio Modelo on the Isle of Pines.
The week went by slowly. By Friday the struggle for political control of the government seemed to cease. A president was placed in office, the third to take the office that week. Inasmuch as the presence of the Taylor, now joined by the Claxton, had been interpreted by the press as “Intervenccion” and the words “Yanqui Imperialismo” had begun to appear in the newspapers, it was considered that the best answer to such assaults, especially in view of the establishment of a substantial government, would be the withdrawal of the American ships. Anyway, law and order had been established and whatever minor violences took place did not affect Americans or other foreign nationals. The Taylor and Claxton departed for Key West that Friday afternoon. Saturday, alongside the coal dock at the Key West Navy Yard, was devoted to inspection and the week-end to well-deserved recreation. However, the thought of the SRBP scheduled for the second Tuesday of the cruise was uppermost in the minds of the reserve officers and men. In fairness how could permission to fire a mere practice be refused a crew which had stood ready and able to man those same guns against a formidable shore-based opponent!
All day Monday was occupied in making SRBP runs. On Tuesday morning the official rehearsal was held. Incredible though it may seem (and it did seem incredible to the regular officers), the gun crews were letter perfect after only one day’s real training. All crews fired and when some months later the results by national standings became known the Charleston division was first on the list! And Georgetown was No. 2!
This was a fitting sequel to a demonstration of the American spirit by our Naval Reserve, but the unforgettable feature of it all is not the SRBP but the ready stance and steady gaze seen by searchlight of 100 men, 24 hours away from the routine pursuits of civilian life, standing behind their guns on a certain memorable night in August, 1933.
★
U.S.S. Monocacy
Newspapers of this date, February 9, state under head line of Shanghai, February 8:
The 25-year career of the U. S. gunboat Monocacy is near its end. The little ship, built at Mare Island Navy Yard in 1914 and destined for a life of protecting American life and property in China is being towed 50 miles out to sea where, tomorrow, she is to be sunk.
Thus ends, temporarily it may be hoped, the employment in our service of a very honorable name. Monocacy No. 1 was a double-ender gunboat built for Civil War service, 1864-65 and was sent to the Asiatic station about 1867. She served there until sold to the Japanese to become a coal hulk in 1903. She was employed for 38 years.
Monocacy No. 2 was fabricated at Mare Island in 1914, shipped to Shanghai “knocked down,” launched, and commissioned there late in 1914. She was a flat-bottomed river gunboat and was employed on the Yangtze River during her entire career of 25 years. Thus the name has been carried “on the books” for 63 very full years, 61 years on the Asiatic station. I think that some notice should be taken of the passage of this fine old navy name, one dear to the hearts of many officers of both older and more recent generations.—Rear Admiral A. Farenholt (M.C.), U. S. Navy (Retired).