The second Dawn (No. 26), a motorboat, served in the 2d Naval District during 1917-18.
(IX-186: dp. 15,381 (f.); 1. 438'5"; b. 57'; dr. 27'6";
s. 9 k.; cpl. 107; a. 1 4", 1 3")
The third Dawn was built in 1920 by Moore Ship. building Co., Oakland, Calif. as Vacuum, transferred to the Navy 25 December ;944 at Brisbane, Australia; and commissioned the next day, Lieutenant Commander H. V. Perron in command.
Dawn sailed from Brisbane, Australia 7 January 1946 to complete her outfitting at Holiandia, New Guinea from 17 to 24 January. She carried gasoline to Leyte, arriving 2 February, and provided floating gasoline storage in the Philippines until 11 November when she got underway for San Diego, arriving 1 January 1946. A week later she sailed for Norfolk arriving February. Dawn was decommissioned 12 April 1946 and returned to the War Shipping Administration the same day.
USS Alabama Battleship
From its humble beginnings on February 1, 1940 as the keel was laid at the Norfolk Navy Yard in Portsmouth, Virginia, Battleship USS ALABAMA (BB-60) has had a remarkable career. She began her World War II adventures in the North Atlantic in 1943, then later that year, went to the South Pacific seas. She ended up in Mobile, Alabama as a National Historic Landmark and memorial to millions.
Home to a crew of 2,500 courageous Americans, this 45,000 ton war machine’s WWII adventure culminated with BB-60 leading the American Fleet into Tokyo Bay on September 5, 1945. Nine Battle Stars for meritorious service were awarded the “Mighty A” during her brief three year tenure as the “Heroine of the Pacific”.
Most American warships end their useful life after wartime, but ALABAMA was destined to live another day. In May 1962, the Federal Government announced that BB-60 and others would be scrapped, but a forward-looking group of Mobilians and other Alabamians saw a bright future in the aging warship. They envisioned the ALABAMA as the anchor attraction of a Veterans Memorial Park to be located in Mobile. That impossible dream came true on January 9, 1965 when USS ALABAMA Battleship Memorial Park opened to the public.
More than fifteen million visitors later and a statewide economic impact approaching one billion dollars, the Park is easily the most recognizable symbol of the State of Alabama. Dedicated to all Alabama Citizens who have worn the uniform of all branches of the United States Armed Forces, the Park’s numerous artifacts, exhibits, and displays all point to the fact that the Park is America’s most unique military attraction. Come see for yourself.
In July 1945, the USS Indianapolis has just delivered “Little Boy” – the atomic bomb destined for Hiroshima – when she is sunk by a Japanese sub. 300 sailors go down with her, and the 900 survivors drift for four and a half days, battling the sun, thirst, sharks, and their own fear. Ultimately, only 316 of them are pulled from the sea alive. The sinking of Indianapolis remains the U.S. Navy’s worst single loss of life at sea.
Indianapolis’ final resting place remains a mystery for more than seven decades, until an expedition launched by philanthropist Paul G. Allen discovers the ship in August 2017, 18,000 feet below the surface of the sea.
Now the definitive story of USS Indianapolis is told as we reconstruct the ship’s heroic legacy, her dramatic final moments, and the discovery of the wreck site. We also tell the story of Captain Charles Butler McVay III – the only captain in U.S. history convicted for losing his ship in wartime. His suicide in 1968 sparks a campaign by his loyal crew to clear his name – a campaign joined by the captain of nuclear submarine, who risks his own career to right the injustice.
About "Live from the Deep"
Hosted by Emmy Award-winning broadcast journalist Miles O’Brien, USS Indianapolis Live - From the Deep takes viewers through the wreckage of the Fifth Fleet’s naval flagship, which lies more than three miles below the surface of the Philippine Sea. Lost for more than 72 years, the U.S. Navy cruiser was found and positively identified in August through careful analysis of wreckage and markings by the expedition crew onboard the Research Vessel (R/V) Petrel, owned by Microsoft co-founder and philanthropist Paul G. Allen.
Through a one-hour live exploration, USS Indianapolis Live - From the Deep gave viewers a tour of the wreckage from the World War II vessel that has rested at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean since its sinking in 1945. Produced for PBS by Vulcan Productions, Inc. and Miles O’Brien Productions, LLC, USS Indianapolis Live - From the Deep premiered September 13, 2017.
Deaths [ edit | edit source ]
The memorial plaque for the killed American sailors at Mayport, Florida.
|USS Stark deaths|
|SN Doran H. Bolduc, |
|RMSA Dexter D. Grissett, |
|FCCS Robert L. Shippee, |
Adams Center, NY
|BM1 Braddi O. Brown, |
|FC3 William R. Hansen, |
|SMSA Jeffrey C. Sibley, |
|FC3 Jeffrey L. Calkins, |
Richfield Springs, NY
|GMG3 Daniel Homicki, |
|OS3 Lee Stephens, |
|SN Mark R. Caouette, |
|OSSN Kenneth D. Janusik, Jr., |
|BM2 James R. Stevens, |
|SN John A. Ciletta, Jr., † |
|OS1 Steven E. Kendall, |
|ET3 Martin J. Supple, |
|SR Brian M. Clinefelter, |
San Bernardino, CA
|EMCS Stephen Kiser, |
|FC1 Gregory L. Tweady, |
|OS3 Antonio A. Daniels, |
|SM1 Ronnie G. Lockett, |
|ET3 Kelly R. Quick, |
|ET3 Christopher DeAngelis, † |
|GMM1 Thomas J. MacMullen, |
|SN Vincent L. Ulmer, |
Bay Minette, AL
|IC3 James S. Dunlap, |
Osceola Mills, PA
|EW3 Charles T. Moller, |
|EW3 Joseph P. Watson, |
|STGSN Steven T. Erwin, † |
|DS1 Randy E. Pierce, |
|ET3 Wayne R. Weaver, II, |
New Bethlehem, PA
|RM2 Jerry Boyd Farr, |
|SA Jeffrei L. Phelps, |
Locust Grove, VA
|OSSN Terrance Weldon, |
|QMCS Vernon T. Foster, |
|GM3 James Plonsky, |
Van Nuys, CA
|IC2 Lloyd A. Wilson, |
|SMSN Earl P. Ryals, †|
Boca Raton, FL
|† Buried in Arlington National Cemetery|
On 22 May 1987, a eulogy was given by president Ronald Reagan at Mayport Naval Station, Jacksonville, Florida. Γ]
USS Dawn , History of - History
T he heavy cruiser Indianapolis steamed out of San Francisco Bay just after dawn on July 16 wrapped in a heavy cloak of secrecy. In her belly, she carried the atomic bomb that three weeks later would be dropped on the Japanese city of Hiroshima. She raced, unescorted, to the island of Tinian where she unloaded her lethal cargo on July 26. Her mission accomplished, the Indianapolis then began a journey into Hell that would end with the worst naval disaster in U.S. history.
From Tinian she sailed to the island of Guam and from there she was ordered to the Leyte Gulf in the Philippines to prepare for the invasion of Japan. Traveling without an escort, her voyage would take her through an oceanic No Man's Land infested with Japanese submarines and sharks.
|The USS Indianapolis|
A few of those in the water were able to reach a raft or debris from the ship to cling to. Many wore life jackets that provided minimal buoyancy. Just as many, however, had neither raft nor life jacket and were forced to continually tread water to survive, finding relief only when a life jacket became available through the death of a shipmate. The sharks began attacking when the sun rose and continued their assault throughout the ordeal.
No alarm was raised when the ship failed to arrive at its destination. No rescue forces were dispatched to find the missing ship - its sinking went unnoticed. For four days a dwindling number of survivors fought a losing battle of life and death. Then, lady luck intervened. A Navy reconnaissance plane on routine patrol happened to spot the survivors and broadcast their position. Near-by ships rushed to the scene and began to pluck the sailors out of the water. A tally made at the completion of the rescue revealed that only 317 of the original estimated 900 who escaped the sinking ship survived their ordeal.
"I knew I was dying but I really didn't care."
Dr. Lewis Haynes was the Chief Medical Officer aboard the Indianapolis. Shortly after his rescue, he dictated his recollections to a corpsman in order to preserve an accurate account of his experience. These notes became the basis of an article published in 1995. We join his story as his sleep is interrupted just after midnight on July 30 by the violent explosion of a Japanese torpedo:
I emerged to see my neighbor Ken Stout. He said, &lsquoLet's go,&rsquo and stepped ahead of me into the main passageway. I was very close to him when he yelled, &lsquoLook out!&rsquo and threw his hands up. I lifted the life jacket in front of my face, and stepped back. As I did, a wall of fire went &lsquoWhoosh!&rsquo It burned my hair off, burned my face, and the back of my hands. That's the last I saw of Ken.
I started out trying to go to the forward ladder to go up on the fo'c'sle [forecastle - The section of the upper deck of a ship located at the bow forward of the foremast] deck, There was a lot of fire coming up through the deck right in front of the dentist's room. That's when I realized I couldn't go forward and turned to go aft. As I did, I slipped and fell, landing on my hands. I got third degree burns on my hands - my palms and all the tips of my fingers. I still have the scars. I was barefooted and the soles of my feet were burned off.
Then I turned aft to go back through the wardroom. I would have to go through the wardroom and down a long passageway to the quarterdeck, but there was a terrible hazy smoke with a peculiar odor. I couldn't breathe and got lost in the wardroom. I kept bumping into furniture and finally fell into this big easy chair. I felt so comfortable. I knew I was dying but I really didn't care.
Then someone standing over me said, &lsquoMy God, I'm fainting!&rsquo and he fell on me. Evidently that gave me a shot of adrenalin and I forced my way up and out. Somebody was yelling, &lsquoOpen a porthole!&rsquo All power was out and it was just a red haze.
The ship was beginning to list and I moved to that side of the ship. I found a porthole already open. Two other guys had gone out through it. I stuck my head out the porthole, gulping in some air, and found they had left a rope dangling. I looked down to see water rushing into the ship beneath me. I thought about going out the porthole into the ocean but I knew I couldn't go in there."
With great effort, Dr. Haynes manages to climb the rope to the deck above. He and an assistant begin to distribute life jackets to those around them. We rejoin his story as the ship lists violently signaling that she is about to sink:
". I slowly walked down the side of the ship. Another kid came and said he didn't have a jacket. I had an extra jacket and he put it on. We both jumped into the water which was covered with fuel oil. I wasn't alone in the water. The hull was covered with people climbing down.
I didn't want to get sucked down with the ship so I kicked my feet to get away. And then the ship rose up high. I thought it was going to come down and crush me. The ship kept leaning out away from me, the aft end rising up and leaning over as it stood up on its nose. The ship was still going forward at probably 3 or 4 knots. When it finally sank, it was over a hundred yards from me. Most of the survivors were strung out anywhere from half a mile to a mile behind the ship.
Suddenly the ship was gone and it was very quiet. It had only been 12 minutes since the torpedoes hit. We started to gather together. Being in the water wasn't an unpleasant experience except that the black fuel oil got in your nose and eyes. We all looked the same, black oil all over -- white eyes and red mouths. You couldn't tell the doctor from the boot seamen. Soon everyone had swallowed fuel oil and gotten sick. Then everyone began vomiting.
At that time, I could have hidden but somebody yelled, &lsquoIs the doctor there?&rsquo And I made myself known. From that point on -- and that's probably why I'm here today -- I was kept so busy I had to keep going. But without any equipment, from that point on I became a coroner.
|The Japanese sub that sank the Indianapolis. |
This photo was taken on April 1, 1946
just before the US Navy scuttled the
sub off the coast of Japan.
When daylight came we began to get ourselves organized into a group and the leaders began to come out. When first light came we had between three and four hundred men in our group. I would guess that probably seven or eight hundred men made it out of the ship. I began to find the wounded and dead. The only way I could tell they were dead was to put my finger in their eye. If their pupils were dilated and they didn't blink I assumed they were dead. We would then laboriously take off their life jacket and give it to men who didn't have jackets. In the beginning I took off their dogtags, said The Lord's Prayer, and let them go. Eventually, I got such an armful of dogtags I couldn't hold them any longer. Even today, when I try to say The Lord's Prayer or hear it, I simply lose it.
. The second night, which was Monday night, we had all the men put their arms through the life jacket of the man in front of him and we made a big mass so we could stay together. We kept the wounded and those who were sickest in the center of the pack and that was my territory. Some of the men could doze off and sleep for a few minutes. The next day we found a life ring. I could put one very sick man across it to support him.
There was nothing I could do but give advice, bury the dead, save the life jackets, and try to keep the men from drinking the salt water when we drifted out of the fuel oil. When the hot sun came out and we were in this crystal clear water, you were so thirsty you couldn't believe it wasn't good enough to drink. I had a hard time convincing the men that they shouldn't drink. The real young ones - you take away their hope, you take away their water and food - they would drink salt water and then would go fast. I can remember striking men who were drinking water to try and stop them. They would get diarrhea, then get more dehydrated, then become very maniacal.
In the beginning, we tried to hold them and support them while they were thrashing around. And then we found we were losing a good man to get rid of one who had been bad and drank. As terrible as it may sound, towards the end when they did this, we shoved them away from the pack because we had to.
The water in that part of the Pacific was warm and good for swimming. But body temperature is over 98 and when you immerse someone up to their chin in that water for a couple of days, you're going to chill him down. So at night we would tie everyone close together to stay warm. But they still had severe chills which led to fever and delirium. On Tuesday night some guy began yelling, &lsquoThere's a Jap here and he's trying to kill me.&rsquo And then everybody started to fight. They were totally out of their minds. A lot of men were killed that night. A lot of men drowned. Overnight everybody untied themselves and got scattered in all directions. But you couldn't blame the men. It was mass hysteria. You became wary of everyone. Till daylight came, you weren't sure. When we got back together the next day there were a hell of a lot fewer.
I saw only one shark. I remember reaching out trying to grab hold of him. I thought maybe it would be food. However, when night came, things would bump against you in the dark or brush against your leg and you would wonder what it was. But honestly, in the entire 110 hours I was in the water I did not see a man attacked by a shark. However, the destroyers that picked up the bodies afterwards found a large number of those bodies. In the report I read 56 bodies were mutilated, Maybe the sharks were satisfied with the dead they didn't have to bite the living.
We rejoin Dr. Haynes' story two days later:
|Two survivors are brought|
aboard the Cecil J. Doyle
The plane dropped life jackets with canisters of water but the canisters ruptured. Then a PBY [seaplane] showed up and dropped rubber life rafts. We put the sickest people aboard and the others hung around the side. I found a flask of water with a 1-ounce cup. I doled out the water, passing the cup down hand to hand. Not one man cheated and I know how thirsty they were.
Towards the end of the day, just before dark, I found a kit for making fresh water out of salt water. I tried to read the instructions, but couldn't make sense of it or get it to work right. My product tasted like salt water and I didn't want to take a chance so I threw it into the ocean. I then went to
I watched the PBY circle and suddenly make an open-sea landing. This took an awful lot of guts. It hit, went back up in the air and splashed down again. I thought he'd crashed but he came taxiing back. I found out later he was taxiing around picking up the singles. If he hadn't done this, I don't think we would have survived. He stayed on the water during the night and turned his searchlight up into the sky so the Cecil J. Doyle (DE-368) could find us. The ship came right over and began picking us up."
This eyewitness account appears in: Haynes, Lewis L. "Survivor of the Indianapolis." Navy Medicine 86, no.4 (Jul.-Aug. 1995) Stanton, Doug, In Harm's Way (2001).
USS Dawn , History of - History
The Omaha (LCS 12) is the sixth ship in the Independence-class littoral combat ships and the fourth ship in the U.S. Navy named for the largest city in Nebraska.
February 18, 2015 The keel authentication ceremony for the LCS 12 was held at the Austal USA Shipyard in Mobile, Ala.
November 19, The Pre-Commissioning Unit (PCU) Omaha exited the assembly bay #4 at Austal's facility for the first time and was transported down river, while sitting on a deck barge, to BAE Systems Southeast Shipyard's floating dry-dock Launched on Nov. 20.
December 19, PCU Omaha was christened during a 10 a.m. CST ceremony at Austal USA Shipyard in Mobile, Alabama. Ms. Susan A. Buffett, an Omaha philanthropist and daughter of Warren E. Buffett, chairman and chief executive of Berkshire Hathaway Inc., served as sponsor of the ship. Cmdr. Matthew D. Scarlett (LCS Crew 206) is the prospective commanding officer.
January 12, 2017 LCS 12 is currently moored at Austal USA Shipyard's Vessel Completion Yard, at the northern tip of Pinto Island Underway for Builder's (Alpha) trials from March 22-24 Underway for Bravo trials from April 22-23 Underway for acceptance trials with the INSURV from May 10-11.
September 6, Austal USA, Mobile, Alabama, was awarded $12,3 million for cost-plus-award-fee delivery order 7F18 against previously awarded basic ordering agreement N00024-15-G-2304 to provide engineering and management services for advance planning and design in support of the USS Omaha's Post Shakedown Availability (PSA). Work is expected to be completed by August 2018.
September 7, The Omaha moored at Austal USA Shipyard's Vessel Completion Yard after a one-day underway off the coast of Mobile.
September 15, U.S. Navy accepted delivery of the Pre-Commissioning Unit (PCU) Omaha during a short ceremony aboard the ship.
November 9, The littoral combat ship departed Vessel Completion Yard for a one-day underway off the coast of Mobile Underway en route to San Diego, Calif., on Nov. 20.
November 24, PCU Omaha (Crew 213) moored at Wharf D2 on Naval Station Mayport, Fla., for a five-day port call Moored at Berth 6, Pier 10 on Naval Station Norfolk from Dec. 1-6 Moored at Berth 1, Pier 10 from Dec. ?-30.
January 3, 2018 The Omaha moored at Pier A on Naval Station Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, for a three-day port call Moored at Pier 16 in Port of Cristobal, Panama, for an overnight stop to refuel on Jan. 8 Transited the Panama Canal on Jan. 9 Moored at Cruise Pier in Port of Manzanillo, Mexico, for a brief stop to refuel on Jan. 15.
January 19, The Pre-Commissioning Unit (PCU) Omaha, commanded by Cmdr. Michael H. Toth, moored at Berth 6, Pier 4 in its homeport of Naval Base San Diego, for the first time, after a 20-day transit from Norfolk Moored at Berth 1, Broadway Pier in downtown San Diego, in preparation for its commissioning ceremony, on Jan. 31.
February 3, USS Omaha was commissioned during a noon PDT ceremony in Port of San Diego.
February 5, The Omaha moored at Navy Fuel Farm (NFF) on Naval Base Point Loma for a brief stop to refuel before returned to Naval Base San Diego Moored at Bravo Pier, Naval Air Station North Island for a brief stop to onload ammo before underway for routine training on Feb. 26 Returned home on March 9.
March 30, LCS 12 moored at Berth 6, Pier 4 on Naval Base San Diego after a four-day underway in the SOCAL Op. Area Underway again from April 25-30 Underway for Combat Systems Ship&rsquos Qualification Trials (CSSQT), at the Point Mugu Test Range, from May 23-25 Day-long underway on June 6 Day-long underway for Final Contract Trials (FCT) with the INSURV on June 20.
June 25, USS Omaha moored at Bravo Pier for a brief stop to offload ammunition before underway off the coast of southern California Returned home on June 26 Entered the Pride of San Diego Dry Dock on July ?.
November 2?, USS Omaha moved "dead-stick" from BAE Systems shipyard to Berth 6, Pier 4 on Naval Base San Diego.
December 7, Cmdr. John P. Barrientos relieved Cmdr. Michael H. Toth as CO of the LCS Crew 213 (Blue) during a change-of-command ceremony on board the Omaha.
May 7, 2019 USS Omaha departed homeport for sea trials following a 10-month Post Shakedown Availability (PSA) Anchored at Coronado's Anchorage A-148 for an overnight stop on Tuesday evening Moored at Berth 6, Pier 5 on May 9 Underway again on June 10 Moored at NFF for a brief stop to refuel on June 14.
June 20, The Omaha (Crew 212), commanded by Cmdr. David W. Walton, Jr., made a brief stop at Bravo Pier to onload ammo before moored at Berth 2, Pier 5 on Naval Base San Diego Underway again from July 9-19 and July 31 Moored at NFF for a brief stop to refuel before returned home on Aug. 1.
September 24, USS Omaha moored at Berth 6, Pier 4 after a brief underway off the coast of San Diego Day-long underway on Sept. 26 Underway again from Sept. 30- Oct. 3 and Oct. 7 Moored at NFF for a brief stop to refuel on Oct. 9 Moored at Bravo Pier for a brief stop to onload ammo on Oct. 10 Returned home on Oct. 11.
November 14, The Omaha moored at Berth 6, Pier 4 on Naval Base San Diego after a 10-day underway in the SOCAL Op. Area Underway again from Nov. 29- Dec. 3 and Dec. 7.
December 11, The littoral combat ship moored at Bravo Pier, NAS North Island for a brief stop to onload ammo Moored at Berth 6, Pier 5 on Dec. 13 Underway in support of the USS Nimitz (CVN 68) CSG's Group Sail on Jan. 13.
January 21, 2020 USS Omaha moored at Bravo Pier, NAS North Island for a brief stop to onload ammunition Brief stop at Bravo Pier again on Jan. 28 Returned home on Feb. 2 Moored at NFF for a brief stop to refuel before underway again on Feb. 4.
February 7, The Omaha moored at Berth 6, Pier 5 on Naval Base San Diego Underway again from March 3-6 and April 6-10.
May 22, USS Omaha moored at Berth 2, Pier 5 on Naval Base San Diego after a 25-day underway in the SOCAL Op. Area Underway again from July 6-10.
July 24, USS Omaha moored at Berth 6, Pier 4 on Naval Base San Diego after a three-day underway for routine training Underway again from Sept. 10-11.
September 24, The Omaha moored at Berth 1, Pier 4 on Naval Base San Diego after a three-day underway off the coast of southern California.
October 1, Cmdr. Michael E. Piano relieved Cmdr. Dustin T. Lonero as CO of the LCS 10 (Blue) during a change-of-command ceremony on board the Omaha.
October 2, USS Omaha departed Naval Base San Diego for routine training off the coast of southern California Moored at Bravo Pier for a brief stop to onload ammo on Oct. 6 Moored at Berth 1, Pier 5 on Oct. 8 Brief underway on Oct. 14 Underway again from Oct. 15-16 Underway in support of amphibious landing exercise Steel Knight/Dawn Blitz 21 from Dec. 3-11.
January 29, 2021 USS Omaha moored at Berth 1, Pier 5 on Naval Base San Diego after a two-day underway in the SOCAL Op. Area Underway again on April 5.
April 6, The Omaha conducted Surface Ship Radiated Noise Measurement (SSRNM) testing, off the northeast coast of San Clemente Island Brief stop at Bravo Pier to onload ammo before returned home on April 8 Underway in support of the USS Essex (LHD 2) ARG's COMPTUEX on May 14 Moored at Bravo Pier for a brief stop to onload ammo on May 18.
May 28, USS Omaha moored at Berth 6, Pier 4 on Naval Base San Diego Underway again on June 1 Moored at Berth 1, Pier 5 on June 7.
USS Ronald Reagan made her maiden voyage in January 2006 in support of Operations Iraqi Freedom and Enduring Freedom and provide added security in the Persian Gulf region. She returned to San Diego in July 2006.
Upon her return to San Diego, she was called upon to perform an unscheduled surge deployment as part of the Navys Fleet Response Plan. USS Kitty Hawk needed relieved from her forward deployed station in Japan for critical maintenance. USS Ronld Reagan was again deployed to the Western Pacific in January 2007, standing Kitty Hawks watch until USS Kitty Hawk returned to duty in april 2007..
USS Ronald Reagan provided emergency assistance to a cruise ship in the waters off Baja California 15 December 2007. A 14 year-old girl from Illinois aboard the SS Dawn Princess, experiencing abdominal pains, was helicoptered to USS Reagan. The USS Reagan surgeon performed an emergency appendectomy in the aircraft carriers Sick Bay.
In May 2008 USS Ronald Reagan deployed for her third Pacific deployment. During June and July she participated in a humanitarian mission to the Philippines in response to Typhoon Fengshen. The Ronald Reagan Strike Group, which included USS Chancellorsville (CG 62), USS Decatur (DDG 73), USS Gridley (DDG 101)and USS Thach (FFG 43) provided 250 tons of provisions to devastated area of Panay. Proceeding on to the Indian Ocean, USS Ronald Reagan supported the effort of Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan. Ronald Reagan returned to home in November 2008.
May 2009 saw USS Ronald Reagan deploy to the Far East for the fourth time. She relieved USS Eisenhower in the ongoing Operation Enduring Freedom effort in Afghanistan. After five months deployed, Ronald Reagan returned to San Diego on October 21, 2009.
During routine operations off the coast of Florida in December 2010, USS Ronald Reagan came to the assistance of SS Carnival Splendor. Carnival Splendor was dead in the water after a fire in an engineering space disabled her. Ronald Reagan stood by, lending any needed aid, until the U.S. Coast Guard Cutter Morgenthau relieved her..
With a projected service life into the 2050s, USS Ronald Reagan will be ready for anything for years to come, living up to her motto Peace Through Strength
The USS RONALD REAGAN (CVN-76) operational history and significant events of her service career follow:
Tragically Unlucky – The Sad Tale of the USS Sculpin
The conventions for naming American submarines depends on the time when they were commissioned and the type they were. Today, submarines are generally named after states or cities, or sometimes great Americans.
During WWII, US submarines were named after fish or sea mammals, and their numerical designation was prefaced by the letters “SS”, for “steam screw”. SS-191 was the USS Sculpin, the first of three boats to carry the name.
The sculpin is an ugly deep-water fish with big bulging eyes to help it see in the depths. It also has specialized barbs in its fins and gills that not only allow it to anchor itself to the sea bottom, but also work to repel attackers. SS-191 very deservedly took its name from this tenacious deep-sea fish.
Commissioned in 1939, the Sculpin was an “S-class” submarine, of which there were ten. All of the subs in the class were named after fish or mammals whose name began with the letter “S”. The subs were powered by either direct-drive or diesel-electric engines/auxiliary battery and displaced 1450 tons surfaced and 2350 tons submerged.
They were 310 feet (about 94 meters) long and 26 feet (almost 8 meters) wide. They had a top speed of 21 knots surfaced and 8.75 knots submerged. The boats had an incredible 11,000 mile (17.7 kilometers) range and were able to remain submerged for forty-eight hours at two knots.
The subs were tested to 250 feet (76 meters), but sometimes were forced closer to 300 feet (91.4 meters). The crew consisted of 5 officers and 54 enlisted men manning eight 21-inch torpedo tubes and 24 torpedoes, one 3-inch deck gun, and a combination of .50 or .30 machine guns.
USS Sculpin (SS-191) off San Francisco, California, on 1 May 1943, following an overhaul.
In 1943, the Sculpin was the chief boat in Submarine Division 43, a group of three submarines in the Central Pacific. They were stationed to defend the sea lanes approaching the Gilbert Islands, which was to be the site of the famous invasion of Tarawa in late November.
Commanding the 3-boat sub division was Captain John P. Cromwell. The captain of the Sculpin itself was Commander Fred Connaway. The two other boats with Sculpin were the Sargo-class boat Searaven and Balao-class sub Apagon.
Captain Cromwell, like many Navy men, was from a land-locked state: Illinois. Born in 1901, Cromwell graduated from Annapolis in 1924. He served in a variety of duties before the war, including on the battleship USS Maryland. In the pre-WWII Navy, a battleship was a desirable assignment, but Cromwell was drawn to the submarine force.
Maryland alongside the capsized Oklahoma during the attack on Pearl Harbor, as West Virginia burns in the background
In 1936, Captain Cromwell was given command of his own sub, USS S-20. By the time war broke out in 1941, Cromwell had served not only as captain, but in a variety of staff positions in Washington as well as Engineer Officer for the submarines across the entire Pacific Fleet. He had fostered connections and was well-respected.
Commander Connaway was ten years Cromwell’s junior, but also from a land-locked state – New Mexico. After graduating from the Naval Academy, Cromwell served aboard the battleship Texas for two years, and then transferred to submarine school.
By 1939 he had commanded two subs, and at the start of the war was commanding sub S-48. In 1931 on a submarine voyage across the Atlantic, Connaway wrote to his mother, relating the conditions aboard the boat:
“For three weeks I am an engineer. Besides having two lectures a day and having to sketch the entire engineering plant and electrical system, and having to write up the lectures, and having to stand eight hours’ watch every day at the most unearthly hours in the fire room, temperature 130 degrees F, I don’t have very much to do except try to find time and a place to sleep.”
By November 1943, the Sculpin had undertaken eight war patrols. During those patrols, the men of the Sculpin had taken the fight to the enemy, consisting of eighteen Japanese ships, including one cruiser. Not all of the men aboard Sculpin had been on every mission, including Cromwell and Connaway, but many of them had some combat experience, and on the boats’ ninth war patrol.
This would be extremely important as both Commander Connaway and Captain Cromwell had not been on war patrol before. Both men had served on subs and the submarine fleet in a variety of ways, but neither had seen a war patrol in an active combat zone.
On November 16 th , 1943, Sculpin, Searaven and Apagon took position near Truk, west of the Marshall and Gilbert Islands, protecting the sea lanes from any approaching Japanese ships.
The Americans had a number of serious advantages in the Pacific – and Commander Cromwell was in possession of some of them. He was privy to the knowledge that the Allies had broken both many of the German naval codes and the primary Japanese code (“JN-25” or “Purple”) as well.
He also knew the position of most of the subs in the Pacific and had detailed knowledge of the coming invasion of Tarawa. Additionally, the Americans, including Cromwell’s Submarine Division 43, knew where most of the Japanese fleet was, or was heading. The deployment of the three subs at Truk was intentional.
On the night of the 16 th , Captain Connaway sighted a convoy of Japanese ships steaming at high speed in the direction of the Gilberts. In the darkness, Connaway drove Sculpin on the surface, parallel to the Japanese convoy, getting ahead of it in the early morning hours, then submerging in wait.
When dawn broke, Sculpin surfaced, but was spotted by a Japanese destroyer, which soon made right for it. Connaway ordered an emergency dive and took the boat as far down as possible. Inside the sub, Cromwell, Connaway and the crew of the Sculpin listened as the Japanese convoy passed overhead.
Believing they were clear, Connaway rose to periscope depth in the hope of catching the enemy convoy before it moved out of range. This time, another Japanese destroyer, the Yamagumo, was heading straight at him. Once again the Sculpin dove deep.
Yamagumo underway on 15 September 1939.
Many people have expressed the sentiment that war is “mostly boredom, punctuated by moments of terror”. Of all the moments experienced in war, perhaps none is more terrifying than being in a submarine while it is being depth-charged.
Unnaturally confined in a steel box in the first place, then sent under the waves, men in a sub are then subjected to oil-drum sized explosive charges on them in the hope that the explosions will crack open the hull of the submarine, and all aboard her will be sent into the deep ocean.
There are so many terrifying aspects to this that it is hard to single out just one, but many submariners who have been through a depth charge attack will tell you that among the worst things about it is the inability to shoot back – you are at the mercy of the enemy.
After hours of being attacked and searched for (the dreaded “ping” of sonar), Sculpin surfaced at noon. When the boat reached 125 feet, the depth gauge stuck. When the boat surfaced, it was rather abruptly, as no one aboard was quite sure how deep Sculpin was. In the conning tower, Connaway once again found himself staring at a Japanese destroyer heading right at him.
USS S-44 the same class as the USS Sculpin
Screaming for an emergency dive, Connaway slammed the hatch behind him and the Sculpin descended once again. This time, eighteen depth charges fell near the boat in quick succession. One of the charges effected the subs’ ability to control its depth.
The boat rapidly dove past her maximum depth of 250 feet, heading to 300. Leaks appeared throughout the boat as rivets and seams began to give. Any deeper and Sculpin would crush – the water pressure of the ocean around her would simply cave in her hull like a paper bag.
Connaway and his crew managed to stop their descent, but only by powering through the water at full-power. This in turn gave the Japanese sonar-men above more noise with which to target the Americans. Eventually, one of two things was going to happen – neither of them good.
One, the sub could continue to try to make way under full power, but eventually fuel would run out, or the engines would be damaged beyond repair. Then the boat would stop, sink, and everyone in it would be crushed by the deep. Second, the enemy could easily score a fatal hit. The probability of either happening was very high.
Takao, heavy cruiser of the Imperial Japanese Navy, on trial run at full speed off Tateyama, mouth of Tokyo Bay.
That left one possibility: surface and fight it out as long as possible. That’s what Commander Cromwell and Captain Connaway agreed to do. When Sculpin blew her ballast tanks and surfaced, Captain Connaway and the gun crew ran out onto the deck to man the boats’ 3-inch gun. The first Japanese shell hit the American sub, killing Connaway in the conning tower and all of the men of the gun crew.
The boats’ second in command took over, and he ordered the boat scuttled – primed with explosives and sunk. The crew would abandon ship as best they could before their boat exploded. As difficult as that order was to give, one man had a worse decision to make.
Below deck, Commander Cromwell was faced with a choice – be captured and likely give up the secrets he held under torture, or…die in the ocean’s depths. Cromwell informed those around him of his decision and ordered them to abandon ship.
The dive officer, Ensign W.M. Fielder, elected to remain behind with Cromwell to help make sure the boat did indeed sink. A number of severely wounded men, knowing what treatment they would receive at the hands of the Japanese, also elected to stay behind.
Captain John P. Cromwell
Forty-two other men abandoned ship. Immediately they realized the stories about Japanese treatment of prisoners they had heard were true – one wounded man was thrown back into the sea to drown as the rest were brought into captivity.
Eventually put aboard the Japanese carrier Chuyo for transport to a POW camp, the men of the Sculpin and others were torpedoed by the USS Sailfish, whose captain and crew were unaware of the POW’s aboard the enemy ship. Ironically, four years before, the crew of the Sculpin had rescued the crew of the Sailfish after an accident off the New England coast.
Only twenty-one men from the Sculpin survived the war. Cromwell was awarded the Medal of Honor, Connaway the Silver Star.
Oldest survivor of USS Indianapolis has died at 98
Don Howison was the last living officer of the Naval ship that sank in 1945.
Dec. 6, 1998: 20/20: The mysterious case of the USS Indianapolis
The oldest remaining survivor of the USS Indianapolis from WWII has died.
The official Facebook page for the Naval ship that sank in July 1945 under enemy fire shared the news that its last living officer, Don Howison, died at the age of 98 on Friday.
"It brings us great sadness to share that Don Howison, the oldest remaining survivor, and the last living officer of USS Indianapolis, has passed away," the post said. "Don was a wonderful man with a great sense of humor and outlook on life. Rest In Peace, sailor. You will not be forgotten."
Many replied to the post thanking Howison for his service and hailed him a "true American hero."
The USS Indianapolis, which was torpedoed by a Japanese submarine after delivering atomic bomb components, sank in 12 minutes.
To this day, the tragedy that left 880 sailors and Marines dead is known as one of the worst disasters in U.S. Naval history. Only 316 survived.
There are now just 10 living survivors.
Those who survived from the Indianapolis have shared harrowing stories about the days they spent in the water after the ship sank.
Former Marine Cpl. Edgar Harrell told the Indianapolis Star that many of the survivors were hurt, badly dehydrated and that some were killed by sharks.
The story of the USS Indianapolis has inspired books and movies, including a speech from the 1975 film, "Jaws."
Quint, played by Robert Shaw, recalls the frightening based-on true details of the speed at which the ship sank and the fight for their lives against sharks in the open water.
"700 men went into the water, vessel went down in 12 minutes. Didn't see the first shark for about half an hour," Quint says. "Our bomb mission had been so secret, no distress signal had been sent."
The remains of the Indianapolis was found resting on the floor of the North Pacific Ocean in August 2017.
The NPC begins
Until 1976 the Ranfurly Shield was New Zealand rugby’s premier symbol of provincial supremacy. That year the first National Provincial Championship was contested by the nation’s 26 provincial unions, which were divided into two divisions. The first division comprised 11 teams – seven from the North Island and four from the South. Division Two was subdivided by island. Bay of Plenty were the first Division One champions, with Taranaki winning Division Two north and South Canterbury Division Two south. In 1985 a nationwide Division Two and Division Three were created. Further changes in 2006 reflected the increasingly professional nature of rugby. Two separate competitions were created: a top tier of 14 teams competed in a professional competition (since 2010 this has been called the ITM Cup), while the Heartland Championship was contested by 12 amateur or semi-professional unions.