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Navy Stepchildren: The Armed Guard
(See page 149S, December 1947 Proceedings)
Ensign John H. Griffith, U. S. Naval Reserve.—Lieutenant Commander Britton’s interesting Proceeding’s article on the Armed Guard some time ago presents the peculiar problems of the gun crew commanders aboard our merchant vessels during the recent war. I think, however, there is a tendency in the article to generally discredit the merchant service in pointing up these difficulties. The crux of the problem lay, not in the obstinacy of the masters or crews of the merchant vessels, but in the manner in which the Naval defense was superimposed upon the existing organization of the ship. The Armed Guard Officer was, by instruction, responsible for the defense of the vessel, while the master retained his normal responsibilities for its navigation and operation. The overlap is obvious. The answer to this dilemma was sought by many Armed Guard officers in a broad interpretation of the term defense to include not only the control of the defensive armament of the ship, but also the complete command of the vessel. This assumption of authority was entirely beyond the capabilities of these hastily trained gunnery officers. That an experienced master should entrust, during an emergency, the bridge of his ship to an officer whose sole nautical training consisted of a few weeks in a Naval Gunnery School, and whose entire shipboard experience was confined to a few months of Armed Guard duty, is an unthinkable proposition.
In practice, the extreme situation seldom occurred because the convoy system placed the over-all defense responsibility in the escort commander who relayed his instructions to the merchant vessels through the convoy commodore. Thus both the ship s master and the Armed Guard officer followed common instructions regarding defense. Even in the case of convoy stragglers, the common sense dictum of showing the enemy your stern and making full speed largely prevented any dispute between master and Armed Guard officer over defensive tactics to be followed.
I have attempted to point out that the question of divided command emphasized by Commander Britton was, in essence, purely theoretical and impossible to put into practice. It remained without a solution, other than the common sense of the men involved, throughout the war.
Naval Postmarks—Souvenirs and Goodwill
(See page 1211, October 1947 Proceedings)
Lieutenant Commander J. B. Wellman, U. S. C. G. (Ret.)—The Proceeding’s article by Lieutenant Commander Rommel on “Naval Postmarks—Souvenirs and Goodwill” some time ago, and particularly that part which bore upon the efforts of cancellation collectors to obtain covers bearing ship’s name cancellations, reminded me of an incident which occurred while I was Engineer Officer of the Coast Guard Cutter Tuscarora.
While the ship was in drydock at Ybor City, Fla., I received a letter from a person whose name I had never known before requesting that I have the Ship’s Mail Clerk cancel the enclosed self-addressed envelope with a clear cancellation bearing the ship’s name, and mail same. Now while the ship’s mail was handled ashore through the local Postoffice where it was cancelled, I was an ardent stamp collector and inclined to cooperate with this collector, But how? After studying the matter I pocketed my small quarter-inch office rubber stamp bearing the name “U. S. S. Tuscarora, C. G.,” and on my next trip uptown dropped in at the Ybor City Postoffice and laid the letter bearing the request before the Postmaster, followed by the cover. He read the letter, looked at the cover, and then looked at me inquiringly. I produced my rubber stamp, inked it on his stamp pad and then stamped the name on his desk blotter and laid the stamp on the desk before him. “How about using this rubber stamp for a cancellation?” I asked.
“You know, this is a new one on me,” said the Postmaster, “We get all kinds of letters enclosing covers with the request for clear cancellations bearing Ybor City on them, but this is the first time I’ve run into anything like this. Let’s see what we can do about it.” His Assistant and the Cancellation Clerk were called in, the letter read by them, and after some discussion a procedure was decided on. A new hand cancellation stamp was brought in and inked, a piece of paper was laid on the return cover to the left of the stamp and the stamp cancelled with the killer bars, the name of the city being imprinted on the paper to the left of the stamp, the envelope being bare of anything but the marks of the killer bars; my rubber stamp was then used to complete the cancellation, the name “U.S.S. Tuscarora C.G.” being imprinted to the left of the killer bar marks. We all admired the result. My comment that that collector would have a rarity, the only cancellation of its kind in the world, produced an immediate result: each of the three procured stamped envelopes and proceeded to make duplicate cancellations for their own collections.
There were two aftermaths which followed the above incident. Thinking it sufficiently unusual to be interesting to the Commanding Officer, I told him the details for his amusement, only to be frowningly rebuked for using the ship’s stamp for unauthorized purposes without his permission, and, a few weeks later I received a letter from my correspondent thanking me most appreciatively for the cancellation and complaining that mine was the only cover returned bearing a ship’s cancellation—all the letters sent to other Coast Guard vessels were returned with home-port cancellations! As a testimonial of his appreciation for my cooperation in enlarging his cancellation collection he was enclosing a couple of stamps for my own collection. They were the type of stamps best appreciated by a sailor—both were large, handsome Spanish stamps bearing each a beautiful replica of a Goya nude!
Captured North Korean Equipment
(See page 1157, October 1950 Proceedings)
Henry Packard White.—In regard to the photograph on page 1157 of the October, 1950, issue of The Proceedings, I would like to bring to your attention the caption for the picture. I believe that you have been misinformed as to the caliber of some of the weapons. Reading from left to right, the first is the Russian 12.7 mm. (.50 cal.) M38 Degtjarev Machine Gun. Next is the mount for this gun, elevated for A.A. fire. Third is the Russian 7.62 mm. (.30 cal.) M1910 Maxim Machine Gun on the old Sokolov wheeled mount. Fourth is the Russian 14.5 mm. single shot anti-tank rifle, Fifth is the Russian 7.62 mm. (.30 cal.) M28 Degtjarev light machine gun. This takes a Hat pan type drum magazine, not shown in the picture, but similar to our old Lewis gun. Following this is a Japanese 7.7 mm. (.303 cal.) Type 99 (1939) rifle. Seventh is a Russian 7.62 mm. (.30 cal.) M24/27 Mossin-Nagant carbine. This last is a Russian 7.62 mm. (.30 cal.) M41 sub-machine gun. This takes the same cartridge as the Tokarev auto, pistol.
I have not heard of any .25 caliber submachine gun or carbine of Russian manufacture. It is quite true that the Japs used a 6.5 mm. rifle extensively, but later standardized on the British .303, 7.7 mm. caliber during the latter part of the war.
Editor’s Note.—The caption as printed was taken directly from the official Department of Defense description on the back of the photograph.
General San Martin and Jose Marti
(See page 15, January 1951 Proceedings)
Lieutenant Roberto F. Corredera, Cuban Navy.—Allow me to present myself:
I am an officer of the Cuban Navy at present on training duty with the Navy of the United States of North America.
Among other things, I can speak, write and read English, but it is logical to suppose that I prefer to do so in my own language. In addition, I like to read, perhaps too much, about diplomacy, politics, economic conditions, relations between peoples, etc., and of course anything related to my profession. This is where the U. S. Naval Institute Proceedings comes into the picture.
In vol. 77, January, 1951, page 15, there is an article entitled: “The Navy’s Role in International Affairs,” written by Chief Yeoman John McAuley, Special prize for enlisted men, 1950 contest, Honorable mention. Well, I read this article and to my surprise, on page 16, left-hand column, I find the following lines: “And the San Martin incident in Havana, Cuba.”
I wish to inform you respectfully that General San Martin the Liberator of Argentina in fact, and of Peru by right, and one of the greatest men America has produced, has nothing to do with Jose Marti, apostle of liberties of Cuba, man of letters and one of the greatest freethinkers of all time, if we may believe Emil Ludwig and other writers of note.
The incident of Havana, lamentable to be sure, was on the statue of Jose Marti, whose resemblance to General San Martin is limited to one factor: both were born to give liberty to peoples, but between the two there is a great disparity of time, place and forms.
I want to emphasize the impression made by reading the sort of thing I mentioned in a technical review of the quality and prestige of the U. S. Naval Institute Proceedings, since it creates the doubt: is it possible to read anything absolutely certain?
These lines have no other object than to calm my conscience.
Editor’s Note.—The editors regret that this error in the author’s manuscript was not corrected before publication. Most U. S. naval officers recognize the name of San Martin as being that of one of the great Liberators along with George Washington and Bolivar.
Risky Rescue
(See page 361, April 1951 Proceedings)
Lieutenant Commander William F.
Bentley, U. S. Naval Reserve (Inactive). —I can not resist the temptation of coming to the rescue of the LSD-5 mentioned in the April, 1951, edition of the Proceedings. On Page 361, left-hand column under the article “Risky Rescue,” I quote, “At the same time, an LSD was falling astern, so Captain Buchanan assigned the 851 as escort for the cripple . . . .”
As the Commanding Officer of the U.S.S. Gunsion Hall LSD-5 at the time, I hasten to assure you that we weren’t crippled. With only a few days of availability here and there since her commissioning in November, 1943, this run to Okinawa being the ninth invasion for the “old gal,” she was a mite tired, and the extremely fast fifteen knots required by the convoy was just too much for her groaning engines.
Eventually a House
(See page 39, January 1950 Proceedings)
Rear Admiral Donald Royce, U. S. Navy.—I read with considerable entertainment and amusement the article “Eventually a House” by Captain McIntosh in the January, 1950, issue of the Proceedings. One brief reference on the second page to the “new and unproved Naval Aircraft Factory” struck my attention. This was apparently written shortly after the end of the first War, and I was somewhat startled as I had always been much impressed.by the record of the Naval Aircraft Factory in the first War. So far as I know, the Aircraft Factory was untouched by the investigation of the aircraft industry that followed the close of the first War.
When changing duty between Charleston, S. C., and Quincy, Mass., in early 1918, I visited the Philadelphia Navy Yard, and my friend and classmate, Ed Cochrane, took me over to see some of the methods being used at the Naval Aircraft Factory, particularly the punch press operation. The record during the first War was such that I used it in 1945 as, what was frankly, a morale blurb, but it nevertheless contained arresting statements of fact. This performance is a testimonial to the energy and ability of the then Assistant Naval Constructor, F. G. Coburn, who was the first Manager of the factory. Rear Ad-
miral S. M. Kraus, USN (Ret.), who was in a good position in 1918 to know, wrote me: “I think Coburn and his Aircraft Factory did an unsurpassed job in every respect, including extensive sub-contracting and excellent supervision of sub-contractors— something that had to be learned all over again some thirty years later, and even then the supervision of the sub-contractors was not nearly as adequate.” I am at a loss to understand how one could call the Naval Aircraft Factory unproved after such a performance.
We followed this up a few months later with a recitation of the performance of the Naval Air Material Center during the second World War, which is impressive for its variety. Even that listing is not the complete story, and a search of the records would reveal many more projects worthy of addition.
Underwater Camera
(See page 1396, December 1950 Proceedings)
Lieutenant Commander Eldridge R. F. Johnson, U. S. Naval Reserve.—The camera used by Chief Photographer’s Mate R. R. Conger of NPC was not developed by the Navy. The camera is of foreign manufacture. It is the Aquaflex, a water-tight housing for the French Eclair motion picture camera and is retailed in the United States by Victor Kayfetz, 130 East 56th Street, New York City.
The Last of the Chesapeake
(See page 1371, December 1950 Proceedings) ,
Commander Louis J. Gulliver, U. S. Navy (Ret.)—In the December, 1950, Proceedings, under the title, “The Last of the Chesapeake,” Captain S. M. Sheehan refers to “ . . . the rather inglorious fate of our famous Chesapeake.” He refers to an allegation that when the British came to dispose of her, she was broken up and her timbers used to build a country grist mill in England.
Captain Sheehan concludes sadly “the timbers that had once felt the tread of one of our great Navy immortals . . . now ending up in the dusty, prosaic atmosphere of a country grist-mill.”
It is extremely improbable that the Chesapeake's timbers were ever used in the construction of a grist mill or any other project. Bear in mind that at the time (1820) when the wood in the frigate was allegedly salvaged for shore construction purposes, the timbers, planks, futtocks, strakes, hanging knees, carlings, coamings, leaden scuppers, etc., had been deteriorating for some thirty years. If the ship was sound, why did the British Admiralty order her to be broken up?
The story that the Chesapeake was made into a grist mill came from the Reverend J. B. Brighton of England. Sometime previous to 1864 (keep in mind the date, 1820, when the frigate became a grist mill) the Reverend Brighton wrote the “Life of Admiral Sir Philip Bouve Vere Broke,” commander of the H.M.S. Shannon in the engagement with the Chesapeake.
The Reverend Brighton knew nothing concerning the end of the Chesapeake, but he had “heard a report that she had been converted into a flour mill and was still in existence as such at Wickham in Hampshire.” So he adds, “I ventured to address some inquiries on the subject to the Vicar of Fareham.”
That gentleman who was stationed only four miles south of Wickham had not previously heard of the frigate having been made into a flour mill, but he made the journey hence and reported the following:—
The Chesapeake was brought to Portsmouth, England, nine miles from Fareham, Vicarage, in Hants. She was never used in the British Navy, stated the Vicar, but was sold by the Government to a Mr. Holmes for the sum of 500 English pounds. It appears that he cleared a profit of 1,000 pounds in consequence of “breaking up the vessel” to obtain “several tons of copper from her” and “disposed of the timbers which were QUITE NEW AND SOUND, of beautiful pitch pine, for building purposes. Much of the wood was employed in building houses in Portsmouth but a large portion was sold in 1820 to Mr. John Prior, a miller of Wickham, for nearly 200 pounds.”
“Mr. Prior pulled down his own mill at Wickham and constructed a new one with this timber which he found admirablyadapted for the purpose. The deck timbers were 32 feet long and 18 inches square and were placed unaltered horizontally, in the mill. The purloins of the deck were about 12 feet long and served for joists without alteration.
The mill still in existence and in active operation (the property of Mr. Goderich), stands just as Mr. Prior erected it in 1820 and is LIKELY TO LAST YET HUNDREDS OF YEARS.”
“Mr. Prior is now living in Fareham and I have just taken the foregoing information from his lips.”
Thus the story of the Chesapeake and the flour mill begins with a Mr. Holmes, a ship breaker, thence on down the line, unverified, to Mr. John Prior, then to the Vicar of Fareham, and finally to the biographer of Admiral Sir Philip Bouve Vere Broke, victor in the sea battle, Shannon and Chesapeake.
The foregoing is all there is for those who see fit to accept the story of the Chesapeake and the flour mill.
On the other hand, circumstantial evidence would indicate that the Chesapeake went heavenward in smoke, just as did all the time weary frigates and ships-of-the-line,— their timbers and planking decaying as time relentlessly took its toll.
There is no known record in any navy of a man-of-war being broken up for her copper (which means burning the hulk) and still having her timbers, planks, etc., as good as new and useful for hundreds of years to come.
Or, supposing that the Chesapeake was not burned for her copper. Assume she was pulled apart,—her dagger knees, for example, that were “sided ten inches, body to reach the next beam, and arm six feet, hooked into the beam to lay two inches below the upper edge of the beam for the water-ways and thick stuff to joggle down. TO BE BOLTED WITH SEVEN BOLTS, ONE-AND-A-QUARTER INCH IN DIAMETER.” This is quoted from a report to the Fourth Congress, December, 1795, made by Timothy Pickering in the War Office. He quotes from data supplied by Joshua Humphreys, designer of the six original frigates, including the Chesapeake and the Constitution.
The official report of the details of construction and of the many kinds of woods used in the building of these frigates is the basis of conclusion that many skilled mechanics in shipbuilding would be at work upwards of four years to achieve the pulling apart of the frigate to the end that her timbers or any other parts would be re-used for the construction of houses or flour mills.
In addition, the wood of the Chesapeake in 1820, some thirty years after the trees were cut for her construction, would almost certainly be rotted in places. There would not be a timber or plank free from a little rot. There is on record a ship on the ways of a New England shipyard that never was free enough from decayed parts so that she could be launched. As fast as the workmen replaced rotted pieces, they found others as bad or worse. _
Furthermore, there were no timbers in the Chesapeake that were thirty-two feet long and eighteen inches square, as alleged in the story. The nearest were five pieces that made up the keelson: “Sided eighteen inches amidships and sixteen inches fore and aft end and sixteen inches deep; scarfs not within fifteen feet of the keel scarf or main or foremast steps; upper keelson, eighteen by fifteen deep, to be hooked and joggled into the lower one ... to BE BOLTED WI TH ONE AND THREE EIGHTHS INCH BOLTS THROUGH EVERY TIMBER AND ONE IN EVERY CROSS CHOCK ...” signed by Joshua Humphreys, designer.
Humphreys and the builders of the Chesapeake made the ship so strong that no human hands could pull her apart. That destruction was to be done only by fire or rot,—not even by gunfire.
Sea Power and a National General Staff
(See page 1091, October 1949 Proceedings)
Captain Roland E. Krause, U. S. Navy.—I hesitate to criticize Lieutenant Colonel Hittle’s excellent article because I am in general agreement with his line of reasoning and with his conclusions. However, I am inclined to feel that some of his arguments are not well founded and these apply particularly to his deductions as to modus operandi of the German High Command from World War I through World War II. It seems to me that the author is inclined to attribute influences to the German General Staff and the Armed Forces High Command which are improperly taken.
Official U. S. Navy Photograph
GERMAN CRUISER PRINZ EUGEN, A BIKINI GUINEA PIG
The Germans vvere capable of building excellent ships, such as the 18,000-ton, 32-knot cruiser shown above as she appeared in 1J46 when turned over to a U. S. naval prize crew in Bremerhaven, but the Nazis never promulgated a workable, effective naval policy. ^ 6
The German Navy’s basic trouble in World War I was not the General Staff but rather the general lack of understanding of sea power on the part of those in high command even the naval leaders themselves. Consequently the statement, “There were those in Germany who understood sea power, but such individuals could never prevail over the Great General Staff” (page 1092) seems to be open to question. Who were such individuals? Even Grand Admiral von Tirpitz, who was not active in the Navy at the time, evidenced some lack of understanding. Tirpitz’s statement “The German people will never understand sea power” is much more basic than is realized. Not only was the General Staff landminded but also so were the German naval officers in high command, even though to a lesser degree. The soldier-instinct, the continental mind, is ingrained in the German as the result of centuries of military warfare. Even a lifetime of naval schooling and experience was inadequate to alter their basic concepts.
Thus the composition and characteristics of the German Fleet of World War I give evidence of this lack of understanding of sea power. Their strategical concepts were strongly influenced by military thinking. For instance, they thought of their primary fleet bases in Heligoland Bight as one great fortress which the enemy must destroy or take, and were much surprised when the British instituted a long-range blockade and contained the German fleet.
The German Navy, built up under the Hitler regime, suffered under the fact that security requirements for Germany required primarily an Army and an Air Force. It was natural that these were given first consideration. The big mistake of Germany was that policy outstripped preparedness and that she became embroiled with Great Britain when she had prepared for only a continental war. This is the fault of Hitler; the General Staff and the Armed Forces High Command were much more inclined to make haste slowly,
Lieutenant Colonel Hittle frequently refers to the German Armed Forces High Command as the supreme general staff and in one instance to the “all-powerful OKW.” This is not strictly correct; there was in fact no supreme general staff in the sense that it exercised general supervision over all warfare of the Army, Navy, and Air Force, as did the General Staff for the Army alone. It was rather a fourth department which operated primarily in fields where coordination of the armed forces was required. Thus for instance Russia was a theatre of General Staff control while the Armed Forces High Command guided the warfare in Italy where other forces, both German and Italian, had to be coordinated. The Armed Forces High Command did have general service cognizance of certain functions, as for instance, intelligence.
All of which is not to deny that officers, or sections, of the Armed Forces High Command did not have weighty influence or power to affect adversely considerations of naval warfare, and that it was so used.
On page 1094 the author states, “Technically the Air Force commander did not violate his prior agreement. But he did violate it in spirit. The total number of squadrons agreed upon was not altered.” The February, 1939, agreement between Goering and Raeder provided that the former as Commander-in-Chief Air would provide the Navy with a total of 41 airplane squadrons by 1941. The maximum strength of German Naval Air appears to have been reached in January, 1940, when it had a total of 20 squadrons. In April, 1940, Commander-inChief Air directed the reduction of the number of planes per squadron as the author has already indicated; the number of naval air squadrons also began to shrink. Therefore it appears that the Commander-in-Chief Air did not adhere to his prior agreement. To be sure, the war intervened (September, 1939) and peacetime plans were knocked askew.
There is a minor error on page 1096. The author refers to the case of Coastal Air Group 606. In September, 1940, it was based on Brest and covered particularly the waters of St. George’s Channel and the Irish Sea~
not the North Sea.
From a military point of view all the German war operations prior to the assault on Russia were great successes. The small German naval forces were boldly used in the Norwegian operation and the fact that they suffered severe losses was accepted as a natural consequence in an action against superior enemy sea power. If sea power was misused it was primarily the fault of the Navy because it willingly entered into the plan and itself made the commitments.
I do not 'quite understand the author’s point of view relative to the projected German invasion of England. He seems to feel that it should have been undertaken, yet he censures the “German supreme general staff” that it “overlooked the narrow strip of water.” The fact that it was not undertaken is proof alone that it did not overlook it, or rather that Hitler did not overlook it, because that is more apropos. Hindsight may prompt the view that Germany should have taken the gamble.
In conclusion I would list the German Navy’s basic troubles in World War II as follows: (1) policy had outstripped preparedness and that it was thrown into a naval war for which it was not by any means ready, (2) lack of understanding of sea power in Hitler, Goering and the OKW, (3) lack of control of its own aviation and a lack of support by Goering and the German Air Force for the objectives of naval strategy, (4) dominance of the OKW in certain fields such as intelligence, allocation of material, etc., with adverse effect on the Navy, (5) lack of coordination of the Navy in the councils of the supreme headquarters. This is one of the primary faults of Raeder’s administration. Due to his desire to avoid interference with his Navy he kept the Naval Staff headquarters separated from supreme headquarters. Even though he could not have overcome all of the disadvantages of Hitler, Goering, OKW, and Army influence, yet in my opinion it might have been balanced to some extent at least. In the latter part of the war, this condition improved but was not basically altered.
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