Greenland's War

By Seth Marshall

After the fall of Denmark in the spring of 1940, numerous countries sought to control the world’s largest sub-continental island. While sparsely populated, the island provided an ideal site to forecast weather that affected Europe and provided and place from which land-based aircraft could patrol the North Atlantic.

            Greenland is the world’s largest sub-continental island. Despite its size, the island has always had a very small population. Even today, the population numbers less than 70,000 people. First populated by Inuit peoples 4-5,000 years ago, Greenland was colonized by several waves of Inuits, the last of which arrived late in the 9th Century. Also arriving in the late 9th Century was Norse settlers led by Erik the Red. The settlers remained until the 1500s, when the Norse population disappeared for reasons not entirely known. In the 17th and 18th Centuries, other European explorers from England, Norway, and Denmark arrived. Eventually, the English and Norwegians left the Danes in charge of the island. However, on April 9, 1940, Germany invaded and occupied Denmark. Connections from Denmark and Greenland were severed and the island was left unprotected and exposed.[1]

            While Greenland had a low population and seemed a relatively unimportant piece of land in the North Atlantic, it was considered important for several reasons. First, one of the few exports of importance from the island was cryolite, an alloy used in the production of aluminum for aircraft. Additionally, the position of Greenland made it an ideal location to position airfields for both the transfer of aircraft across the Atlantic and for patrolling the ocean. Perhaps most importantly, the island was the origin point for much of the weather that affected Europe. This point in particular would prove to be of interest to Germany.

            In the summer of 1940, Germany established several expeditions to Greenland in the vicinity of Scoresby Sound. While these stations were operated by Scandanavians, they were controlled by the German military with the purpose of feeding meteorological information back to Europe. In the fall of 1940, the British countered the Germans by sending raiding parties to dismantle the radio stations, capturing some aviation fuel and several individuals. Later, the British seized a ship with some fifty Germans on board.[2]

            It was at this juncture that the United States became interested in Greenland. Secretary of State Cordell Hull became concerned with the amount of German activity in the region and discussed solutions with the US military and representatives of the Danish government in exile. The US decided that it would build several airfields on the island, officially began to formulate a plan to build sites. On February 6, 1941, President Roosevelt gave his approval to a plan to construct several new bases on Greenland. On April 9, 1941, the Hull-Kauffman agreement was formally signed.

“The Hull-Kauffman agreement gave the United States the right to construct, maintain, and operate in Greenland such airfields, seaplane facilities, and other defense facilities as were necessary to protect the sovereignty of Denmark and the territorial integrity of Greenland. The rights granted to the United States were extensive. They included, among others, the authority to deepen harbors and anchorages, to construct roads and fortifications, and, in general, “the right to do any and all things necessary to insure the efficient operation, maintenance and protection” of whatever defense facilities were established. It was agreed that areas necessary for these purposes would be leased to the United States.”[3]

One of the Greenland's USAAF bases not long after construction.

On March 17th, the USCGC Cayuga was dispatched to Greenland to survey airfield sites. A small garrison was left in place, which was quickly increased in April from 100 to 480. By mid-1941, construction on two airfields was underway- one was known as BLUIE WEST I, in Narsarssuak,  and the other as BLUIE WEST 8.[4]

                Meanwhile, the Germans continued with their efforts to establish weather and radio stations along Greenland’s eastern coast. In late summer 1941, the Germans conducted Operation Bud, an effort to land more personnel on Greenland. Six Germans were stationed on the island until August 1942, when they were evacuated by U-boat.[5] In September, the Norwegian trawler Buskoe was captured attempting to establish a weather and radio station.[6]  In response to this, the Americans continued to expand their bases in Greenland. By June 30, 1942, BLUIE WEST I had 783 men, BLUIE WEST 8 had 379 officers and men, and there were 238 men at Ivigtut.[7] That fall, infantry and coastal artillery were brought in to provide additional defenses. The airbases were used by the USAAF for patrolling the Northern Atlantic searching for U-boats and escorting convoys making their way to England. The bases were also used as stopover points for aircraft that were being ferried to England and the Mediterranean theater.[8]

                In order to combat the Germans continuing efforts to establish weather stations on the East Coast, Danes and native Greenlanders established the Sled Patrol, teams of sled-borne men who patrolled the vast coastlines of eastern Greenland. Additionally, several US Coast Guard ships patrolled the coastline and would periodically land American GIs to search for Germans. While most of the time the patrols did not discover anything of interest, occasionally the patrols would encounter the enemy. On one occasion, the Sled Patrol discovered a weather base on Sabine Island. The Germans then raided the patrol station at Eskimonaes and burned the station to the ground, killing one patrolling soldier and capturing another. The captured man, a Dane named Marius Jensen, later escaped and in turn captured the enemy leader and brought him back to the Allied camp.[9] Later, a flight of USAAF bombers from Col. Bernt Balchen took off from Iceland to destroy the German camp. Upon reaching the base, the bombers strafed several buildings and sank a small supply ship. Two ships were dispatched, the USCG Northland and USCG North Star, to investigate what was left of the site. A single German was captured, the rest were presumed to have been evacuated. Following this, operations in 1943 were suspended due to bad weather.[10]

Members of the Sled Patrol examine captured parachute equipment at the site of an abandoned German station. Source: US Coast Guard

                In spite of the destruction of this base, German weather station operations continued until 1944. Several expeditions, codenamed Operations Crusader, Viola, Treasurer, and Notch were undertaken between 1943-1944, but all came to a premature end. Operation Notch in particular ended in disaster as the trawler Sachsen was attacked by Allied aircraft and sunk. The crew split up, some making their escape via German aircraft and others were captured by the Americans.[11] In 1944, the Germans sent three additional expeditions to Greenland in 1944 to set up additional weather stations. In July, the Northland found one of the weather stations at Cape Sussie, along with the trawler Coburg which was trapped in ice and destroyed both. In September,  Northland discovered another German ship attempting to bring another of the expeditions. The Germans attempted to flee, but eventually scuttled their ship when they realized that they could not escape. All 28 members of the expedition and crew were captured.[12]

A US shore party prepares to search a section of coastline for German weather stations. Source: The National World War II Museum.

The USCGC Northland (WPG-49), an Arctic cutter originally designed as a cruising cutter, meaning that she was equipped with sails. Originally commissioned on May 7, 1927, she served in a variety of roles until she was decommissioned for the first time in 1938. Recommissioned the following year, she saw extensive service in the Arctic circle during World War II. During this time, she was armed with 2 x 3 in/50 guns, 4 x 20mm anti-aircraft guns, 2 x depth charge racks, and 2 x Y-guns. She was also equipped with a scout plane, a Grumman J2F-5. Her complement was 108 enlisted men and 18 officers. She was decommissioned from the Coast Guard in early 1946 and transferred to the Israeli Navy, where she served until 1946.

Another view of the USCGC Northland. Source: The National WWII Museum.

Coast Guard Grumman J2F scout planes search for German activity off the east coast of Greenland. Source: The National World War II Museum.

                In October, the Northland was replaced by the USCGC Eastwind, a newly launched armed icebreaker. For several days, the Eastwind’s scout plane, a Grumman J2F “Duck” biplane, searched for the remaining German weather stations and eventually located a German camp. Early on October 4th, an American team landed and captured the 12-man German weather team, commanded by LT Karl Schmidt, along with the German’s radios, meteorological equipment, and documents that gave details about the German operations in Greenland, including a third expedition which had not yet been captured. The Eastwind’s scout plane continued to search, and on October 14th located the trawler Externsteine, responsible for delivering the third German expedition to Greenland. The following day, the cutter steamed within range of the trawler and opened fire and demanded the Externsteine’s surrender. After several salvoes, the Germans surrendered. The commander of the Eastwind forced several German officers back aboard their ship in order to ensure that the scuttling charges in place were not detonated. As it transpired, the German ship was stuck in ice- when the shells had started to fall, they had believed that they were under attack by tanks, thinking it impossible for ships to navigate the pack ice. Much to their consternation, the Coast Guard personnel were able to free the ship with some well-placed explosives. The Externsteine was then rechristened the Eastbreeze. The capture of the Externsteine along with the third expedition ended German operations in Greenland during World War II.[13]

The Northland's replacement was the USCGC Eastwind (WAGB-279), a Wind-class icebreaker. Commissioned on July 15, 1944, she was much more formidable than Northland. She was armed with 4 x 5in guns in twin mounts, 3 x quad-mounted 40mm Bofors AA guns, 6 x 20mm Oerlikon AA autocannons, and 6 x K-guns and a Hedgehog projector for anti-submarine operations. She also carried her own scout plane. She remained in service after the war and was finally decommissioned in 1968 and scrapped in the 1970s.

Another view of the USCGC Eastwind in her World War II configuration. Source: US Coast Guard.

Members of the last German weather station surrender to US troops on October 4, 1944.

The trawler Externsteine, trapped in ice. After her capture, she was made a prize ship and rechristened USCGC Eastbreeze. She was turned over to the US Navy and renamed USS Callao (IX-205) in January 1945. She was decommissioned in 1950 and scrapped. 

Members of the Coast Guard raise the US flag on the Externsteine on October 16, 1944. Source: US Coast Guard

German prisoners being transported to a POW camp in the US. Source: US Coast Guard. 

                When Germany surrendered in 1945, Greenland was returned to Danish rule. A number of the American bases were closed, but BLUIE WEST 6 remained opened and is today operated by the US Air Force as Thule Air Base. It is difficult to say how successful the German weather stations were. They were certainly able to transmit a fair amount of information. Before the Holzauge weather station was discovered by the USCG, it was able to transmit over 1500 reports back to Germany.[14] Additionally, the Germans were able to tie up a not-unsubstantial amount of Allied resources by forcing them to counter the German weather stations. As a result, Greenland forces lost two killed and four wounded by direct action.[15] Further losses were incurred from accidents, such as the loss of the USCG Natsek, a converted fishing trawler, on December 17, 1942, when it sank in a snowstorm will all hands (23 men and 1 officer) in the Belle Isle Strait[16]. However, the Germans lost numerous personnel and ships in the process as well. In the any case, the war in Greenland remains one of the lesser known aspects of the war in Europe and in the Atlantic.  

Sources

1.       "The History of Greenland – From Dog Sled to Snowmobile." The History of Greenland – From Dog Sled to Snowmobile. N.p., n.d. Web. 14 Feb. 2016.

2.       Zabecki, David T. World War II in Europe: An Encyclopedia. New York: Garland Pub., 1999. 628. Print.

3.       Evans, Mark Llewellyn. Great World War II Battles in the Arctic. Westport, CT: Greenwood, 1999. 60-62. Print.

4.       Conn, Stetson. Guarding the United States and Its Outposts. Washington: Office of the Chief of Military History, Dept. of the Army, 1964. 442-58. Print.

5.       Price, Scott T. "Arctic Combat: The Capture of the Nazi Trawler Externsteine by Scott T. Price." Arctic Combat: The Capture of the Nazi Trawler Externsteine by Scott T. Price. N.p., n.d. Web. 14 Feb. 2016.

[1] The History of Greenland – From Dog Sled to Snowmobile." The History of Greenland – From Dog Sled to Snowmobile. N.p., n.d. Web. 14 Feb. 2016

[2]P. 449, Conn, Stetson. Guarding the United States and Its Outposts. Washington: Office of the Chief of Military History, Dept. of the Army, 1964. 442-58. Print.

[3]P. 445,  Conn, Stetson. Guarding the United States and Its Outposts. Washington: Office of the Chief of Military History, Dept. of the Army, 1964. 442-58. Print.

[4] Conn, Stetson. Guarding the United States and Its Outposts. Washington: Office of the Chief of Military History, Dept. of the Army, 1964. 442-58. Print.

[5] P.61, Evans, Mark Llewellyn. Great World War II Battles in the Arctic. Westport, CT: Greenwood, 1999. 60-62. Print.

[6] P. 453, Conn, Stetson. Guarding the United States and Its Outposts. Washington: Office of the Chief of Military History, Dept. of the Army, 1964. 442-58. Print.

[7] P. 454, Conn, Stetson. Guarding the United States and Its Outposts. Washington: Office of the Chief of Military History, Dept. of the Army, 1964. 442-58. Print.

[8] P. 456, Conn, Stetson. Guarding the United States and Its Outposts. Washington: Office of the Chief of Military History, Dept. of the Army, 1964. 442-58. Print.

[9]Price, Scott T. "Arctic Combat: The Capture of the Nazi Trawler Externsteine by Scott T. Price." Arctic Combat: The Capture of the Nazi Trawler Externsteine by Scott T. Price. N.p., n.d. Web. 14 Feb. 2016.

[10] P. 458, Conn, Stetson. Guarding the United States and Its Outposts. Washington: Office of the Chief of Military History, Dept. of the Army, 1964. 442-58. Print.

[11] P.61, Evans, Mark Llewellyn. Great World War II Battles in the Arctic. Westport, CT: Greenwood, 1999. 60-62. Print.

[12] Price, Scott T. "Arctic Combat: The Capture of the Nazi Trawler Externsteine by Scott T. Price." Arctic Combat: The Capture of the Nazi Trawler Externsteine by Scott T. Price. N.p., n.d. Web. 14 Feb. 2016.

[13] Price, Scott T. "Arctic Combat: The Capture of the Nazi Trawler Externsteine by Scott T. Price." Arctic Combat: The Capture of the Nazi Trawler Externsteine by Scott T. Price. N.p., n.d. Web. 14 Feb. 2016.

[14] P.61, Evans, Mark Llewellyn. Great World War II Battles in the Arctic. Westport, CT: Greenwood, 1999. 60-62. Print.

[15] P.628, Zabecki, David T. World War II in Europe: An Encyclopedia. New York: Garland Pub., 1999. 628. Print.

[16] P. 5, The Coast Guard at War. N.p.: Public Information Division, USCG Headquarters, 1947. Print. Chapter VIII.

Tools of War: The SR-71 Blackbird

For over twenty years during the Cold War, the Lockheed SR-71 Blackbird was the world’s fastest and highest-flying reconnaissance aircraft. Utilizing technology that was far ahead of its time, the SR-71 provided vital strategic reconnaissance to American military leaders.

By Seth Marshall

                                On May 1, 1960, a Lockheed U-2 spyplane flown by Gary Powers was shot down by Soviet SA-2 surface-to-air missiles, touching off an international incident between the US and the Soviet Union. Despite the fact that the U-2 had been flying at over 70,000 feet, it was still vulnerable to interception by the new SAMs that were being built by the Soviet Union. Immediately after Powers’ shootdown, plans were set in motion for the development of a replacement for the U-2 . The result would eventually be the Lockheed SR-71 Blackbird, a plane which was seemingly years ahead of its time.

                The Blackbird had its origins in an aircraft known as the A-12, another reconnaissance aircraft that was visually similar to the Blackbird. The A-12 first flew on April 30 1962, and was designed from the outset to fly reconnaissance missions at very high altitudes and cruise at Mach 3+ speeds. While many fighters have been able to approach such speeds at afterburner, none were able to cruise at that speed for long before destroying their engines. In addition, their airframes were not built to withstand the heat caused by the friction of passing air. In order to combat the heat, the Blackbird was built with titanium alloy, which wascapable of taking the 1,000+ degrees Farenheit.[1]  Later, it was discovered that the titanium was a very sensitive material which could easily be damaged by conventional tools. As a result, all tools used to maintain the aircraft had to be cadmium-free and made of titanium. Additionally, all SR-71s would be painted matte black, since black paint both emits and absorbs heat, which would further assist the aircraft in surviving the extreme environment that it would be flying in.

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An A-12 takes off during flight testing from Groom Lake, also known as Area 51

An A-12 in flight.

Two A-12s were modified to become M-12s, motherships that launched the M-21, an early intelligence-gathering drone. After numerous flights, there was a collision between a drone and mothership, which resulted in the death of a crew member, The program was cancelled in 1966.

                An additional development of the A-12 was the F-12, an interceptor variation. With the same basic airframe as the A-12 and the SR-71, the F-12 was equipped with an internal ordinance bay which would carry three Hughes AIM-47A air-to-air radar-guided missiles. The F-12 program was revealed to the public in February 1964 by President Johnson. While it was estimated that 93 F-12s would be necessary for the air defense mission. However, before the aircraft could go into production, the project was cancelled in 1968.[2]

An F-12, a variant of the A-12.

                The SR-71, which was a advanced version of the A-12 that had been enlarged and fitted with a back seat for a Reconnaissance Systems Officer. The SR-71 was also capable of carrying more fuel than the A-12. In addition to the materials and paint used in the aircraft, the Blackbird was designed with a shape that would give it a minimal radar cross-section- an early example of a stealthy aircraft. Despite the aircraft being over 100 feet long, engineers succeeded in giving the Blackbird a radar cross-section no larger than a man. After extensive secretive testing in Nevada, the Blackbird was ready for service. A fly-off was conducted between the A-12 and the SR-71 in November 1967 to determine which aircraft would perform the reconnaissance role, but the SR-71 was chosen. The A-12 performed several operational and combat missions over Vietnam, however, it was retired in May 1968 and all remaining A-12s were placed in storage.

The SR-71 Blackbird production line at Lockheed's Skunk Works factory.

A production SR-71A

                When it was put into service, the SR-71 was capable of flying at altitudes over 85,000 feet at a speed of Mach 3.2, though it is possible the aircraft can exceed these figures.[3] Based from Beale AFB, CA and Kadena AB, Okinawa (and later RAF Mildenhall, UK), the Blackbird quickly began breaking both speed and altitude records soon after it began operational missions. On September 1, 1974, a Blackbird flew from New York to London in 1 hour, 54 minutes and 56.4 seconds. A few weeks later on September 13, 1974, an SR-71A set an average speed record from London to Los Angeles with an average speed of 1,435.587mph. On July 28, 1976 an SR-71 set an Altitude in Horizontal Flight record of 85,068.997 feet. That same day, it set a Speed Over a Closed Course record of 2,193.167mph. [4]

While the official name of the SR-71 was the Blackbird, many pilots and crew members referred to the aircraft as the Habu, a venomous snake in Japan.

In order to survive the harsh high-altitude environment, pilots were forced to wear a pressure suit and begin mission preparations hours before taking flight. Additionally, the cockpit could be pressurized and air-conditioned to compensate for the 500+ degrees of temperature caused by the friction of the air passing over the skin of the aircraft.

                Throughout its 20+ years of active service, the Blackbird was never successfully intercepted by either anti-aircraft systems or other aircraft. When fired on by SAM systems, the aircraft would accelerate beyond the speed of the missile. The only other aircraft that were capable of matching the SR-71 were the American X-15, a rocket-powered experimental aircraft, and the Soviet MiG-25 Foxbat, which could get to Mach 3 but was not capable of remaining at that speed. The SR-71 remains the fastest air-breathing aircraft ever built. Additionally, during the course of its active service career, only one SR-71 was lost- one in April 1989, with both crew recovered. Despite the aircraft’s success at strategic reconnaissance, the Air Force was determined to eliminate the aircraft from its budget.  In 1989, the Air Force successfully eliminated the SR-71 from its budget for the following year. In March, the Blackbird was retired- it made its final flight in April 1990, when an aircraft made a record flight from Los Angeles to Washington, D.C., where the aircraft would be placed on display. However, as it happened, the Blackbird was not done flying. NASA received two aircraft in 1991 to use for high-speed research flights, and would continue to do so until 1999. Additionally, the DoD determined that modern satellites, which the Air Force had reasoned would replace the Blackbird, had not completely filled a gap in intelligence gathering. In 1994, Congress provided funding for three aircraft to be returned to flying status. From 1995 until 1998, SR-71s would continue to fly reconnaissance missions. The final SR-71 flight was made on October 9, 1999.

Sources:

1.       http://www.nasa.gov/centers/armstrong/news/FactSheets/FS-030-DFRC.html

2.       http://airandspace.si.edu/collections/artifact.cfm?object=nasm_A19920072000

3.       http://www.lockheedmartin.com/us/100years/stories/blackbird.html

4.       http://www.sr-71.org/blackbird/sr-71/

[1] http://www.lockheedmartin.com/us/100years/stories/blackbird.html

[2] http://www.sr-71.org/blackbird/yf-12/

[3] http://www.sr-71.org/blackbird/sr-71/

[4] http://www.sr-71.org/blackbird/sr-71/

Review: The Man in the High Castle

The Man In the High Castle Review

by Seth Marshall

                It has been about a month since the release of the first season of “The Man In the High Castle”, an Amazon adaptation of the Phillip K. Dick novel of the same name released in 1962. The book and the novel present an alternate history set in the United States, where the Axis won the Second World War, with Japan occupying the states west of the Rocky Mountains, Nazi Germany occupying the states to the east of the Rockies, and the Rockies themselves remaining a neutral zone of sorts. The webseries pilot premiered a number of months earlier in the year and was successful enough for Amazon to green light the first season, which was released in its entirety on November 20. The show has received very favorable reviews and has been renewed by Amazon for a second season.

The United States as it appears in The Man in the High Castle

                There are many similarities between the book and the webseries. Both are set in 1962, some fifteen years after the end of the Second World War, which in this version of history ended in 1947 with the surrender of the United States. Both feature similar themes, such as the stigma of defeat which Americans endure under occupation. There is also the intriguing reversal of roles; while in actuality it was the Japanese and Germans who were the occupied and had to stifle their guilt and shame of losing the war and work with the people who had defeated them, in this case it is Americans who feel the shame of defeat and must deal with the stigma of having to serve the people who brought an end to their country. They also must watch as their country is rebuilt to suit the needs of the Japanese and Germans; many iconic American ideas have disappeared- baseball is no longer played, cabs have changed from yellow cars to carts pulled by Chinese, and many locations are now off limits to American citizens. Both the book and series portray Nazi Germany and the Empire of Japan as superpowers engaged in a Cold War, though both suggest that this may change in the future. Finally, both the book and show contain the same characters.

The Man in the High Castle novel, released in 1962 by Phillip K. Dick

There are a number of differences between the two, however. Reader beware, we are now venturing into spoiler territory. None of the book takes place in the Nazi-occupied states, and Reinhard Heydrich is not seen in the book, though he is mentioned as being one of the contenders to take over Martin Bormann’s position as Fuhrer. The plot differs between the two as well. While in the book Julia Frink has left her husband and remains in the Neutral Zone throughout the novel, in the show she returns to her husband and becomes a part of the resistance movement. There is also the subject of The Grasshopper Lies Heavy; in the book, it is a novel written by a man living in the Neutral Zone and present an alternate history of the war (yes, an alternate history in an alternate history), while in the show The Grasshopper Lies Heavy is a series of newsreel films that show different versions of history, some in which the Allies won, some in which the Nazis have now occupied the West Coast. These are just a few of the many differences between the book and series.

Times Square under Nazi occupation.

Whatever the differences though, the series has accomplished the same mission as the book, which is to present a fascinating and chilling alternate history with a deeply engrossing plot and well-written characters. The writers have avoided the trap of simply making the Japanese and Germans run of the mill bad guys- they are genuinely interesting characters who add to the complexity of the show. Perhaps some of the most disturbing aspects of the show are the American characters who are collaborating so willingly with the occupiers- Joe, SS Obergruppenfuhrer Smith, agent from the SD who is hunting down his missing contact- these are all men who have whole-heartedly embraced the ideals of Nazi Germany. Their complicity in what is happening is perhaps most poignant in a scene from the pilot episode; Joe is forced to pull his truck over because of a flat tire. A policeman stops to help him and in conversation we learn that he had fought in the war for the US Army- but now it seems like a distant memory for him, and he remarks that “it’s hard to remember what we were even fighting about.” Almost immediately after he says this, Joe notices what almost appears to be snow falling (it’s summer time)- the police officer tells him that it is a burn day at the crematorium, emphasizing how people have completely turned from the principles that they once fought for. The show’s writers have also managed to capture the essence of the German and Japanese regimes in this disturbing “what if” scenario. It is clear that the writers researched the topic before making the series, as the show gives insight into the Kempetei, German race policies, and . I would highly recommend the series to those interested in the period or simply looking for a new show to watch. Season two of “The Man in the High Castle” is expected to premiere sometime in 2016.

Sailors of the USS Indiana

Four sailors who served on the battleship USS Indiana during the Second World War share their experiences during the war.

by Seth Marshall

                During my capstone project, the creation of an exhibit about the battleship USS Indiana, I decided that the project could use the addition of the voices of veterans. My project supervisor at Indiana University, Kirk White, was able to put me in touch with four sailors who had served on the Indiana and who had attended the unveiling of the prow of the battleship at the University’s football stadium. Samuel Armao, Ozen Carrier, Paul Manegold, and Chalres Morgan served on the Indiana while it was commissioned in the US Navy. Over the next three articles, we will explore their stories from their time on the Indiana.

                Ozen Carrier was born in Wilmington, North Carolina on January 25, 1924. He joined the Navy on February 7, 1942, two months after the attack on Pearl Harbor. Carrier was sent to an accelerated training program at Norfolk Naval Training Station, completing the course after sixty days. The day that he completed training, he was taken across the river to Newport News Shipyards, where work was being finished on the Indiana.  As he walked up the gangplank to the warship, he was met by an officer handing out crew assignments. Carrier was assigned to the FM Division, responsible for fire control of the main battery. Carrier would function as a rangefinder operator. The afternoon that Carrier arrived on the battleship, she was commissioned into the US Navy.

                                                                             Ozen Carrier

                On his arrival on the Indiana, Carrier was assigned to the FM Division (Fire Control, Main Battery) first as crewmen serving in the No. 3 turret, and later as a gun director for the 16 inch guns- his post placed him at the highest manned position on the ship, providing him with a tremendous vantage point. His job was to gather information necessary for aiming the guns, passing it along to the plotting room, who would in turn send the information to the gun crews in the ship’s turrets. After the warship’s commissioning, Carrier and the rest of the crew spent the next six months undergoing crew training and sea trials. In November 1942, the Indiana was ordered to the Pacific. She passed through the Panama Canal on November 9th, rendezvoused with a small battle group, then sailed for first for Tongatabu, then New Caledonia. At New Caledonia, Paul Manegold joined the crew.

                Paul Manegold was born in Hillside, New Jersey on May 15, 1925. At the time of the attack on Pearl Harbor, Manegold was working for Mrs. Wagner Pies. After hearing about the attack, he promptly went to the recruiter’s office in an attempt to join the Navy. “I went down to join and they chase me away because I was only 16. I tried to use my brother’s driver’s license, but he’s got brown eyes and I’ve got blue. The guy says “You ain’t got brown eyes, get out of here!”” After this initial refusal, Manegold was called into the service on September 7, 1942. Manegold chose the Navy because many of his friends had joined the Navy. He hoped to become a baker, an occupation with which he had experience prior to the war, however he became a Chaplain’s Assistant instead. After joining, Manegold was sent to Great Lakes Naval Station, near Chicago, Illinois for boot camp. Following training, he went to Goat Island in San Francisco to await assignment. In the winter of 1942, Manegold shipped out on the USS Mount Vernon for New Caledonia, where he would board the Indiana.

                                                                          Paul Manegold

                As the Chaplain’s Assistant, it was Manegold’s duty to help the Chaplain set up prayer groups and services for crewmen of other religions- Christians, Jews, and others. He would also write letters to the families of crewmen who were killed- fortunately, for the Indiana, this only occurred when the Indiana collided with the battleship Washington and when a scout plane was shot down. As Chaplain’s Assistant, Manegold was also a ship’s counselor of sorts. He would comfort men who had received “Dear John” letters from their wives or girlfriends, and would talk to men about improving their language. “I used to say, you know, “One of these days you’re going to be sitting at your dining room table with your family and out comes these words. You better bite your tongue now.”” He would also barter for soda, beer, doughnuts, and cigarettes, bringing them to sailors on the Indiana.

                While Manegold helped crewmembers with supplies and counseling, Carrier continued to serve as a gun director for the main battery. The Indiana began participating in shore bombardments, providing preparatory fire prior to the landing of Marine and Army troops. On January 31, 1944, the Indiana participated in one such bombardment in support of the invasion of Kwajalein, an atoll in the Marshall chain, shelling Japanese shore positions and ships. The morning after the bombardment, the Indiana was maneuvering to refuel some escorting destroyers when her captain ordered a turn to starboard without reporting the move to nearby ships. A few minutes later, the Indiana collided with the battleship Washington, which had been unable to steer around the Indiana. Manegold was on deck at the time of the collision. “I just got off watch, and I went to the deck, and I seen the hoses down, so I went on up to the signal deck with my blanket, and I was standing at the railing, and here comes this ship out of the fog. And I grabbed a hold of the railing and said “Oh my God!” It moved about ten, twenty feet, then it hit the ship.”[1] At the time of the collision, Carrier was asleep. “Well, I was sleeping on watch, and at that time our watch was in Turret No. 3… and it was a jarring experience. And of course, I was inside the turret, and I didn’t know what was happening. My first thought was that we had been torpedoed, but that turned out not to be the case.”[2] The Indiana suffered a dished-in size and had several anti-aircraft gun mounts and a scout plane catapult torn away, while the Washington had a collapsed bow. Both warships had to leave active duty and return to port for extensive repairs. During her repairs at Pearl Harbor, the next sailor I interviewed joined the crew.

Charles Morgan was born in Wellsville, Ohio in 1924. At the age of six, he moved with his family from Ohio to Montreal, Canada. He moved back to the US in 1940. When the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, Morgan was prevented from joining the military by his mother, whose oldest son was already serving in the Royal Canadian Navy. Despite this, Morgan was drafted in February 1943 into the US Navy. He went to boot camp at Naval Air Station Shelton, Washington, where he trained for nine months. After training, he attempted three times to be transferred to sea duty, succeeding on the third try. He arrived in Pearl Harbor in February 1944, when the Indiana was in port undergoing repairs for her collision with the battleship Washington.

                                                                           Charles Morgan

Just days after shipping out with the Indiana, Morgan went through a Navy tradition known as the line-crossing ceremony. This tradition, which has taken place in several navies for centuries, involves new sailors, referred to as “pollywogs”, being initiated by veteran sailors, known as “shellbacks”, in honor of their first crossing of the equator. Morgan remembers his time as a “pollywog” initiate. “One day I was down there [the enlisted men’s mess] on bean day, and I had my beans and coffee, and my sweet roll and my bread, and I’m sitting down there about ready to eat, and this guy comes along- “You a Pollywog? You better not lie.” And I said, “Yeah.” He says, “Oh, I’m glad to meet you. How about you take your tray and you lay on the deck, and you put that tray in front of you, and don’t you ever use that knife, fork, and spoon. I want you to eat those beans after I pour some coffee on them.” And he poured coffee all over the beans, and I had to use my hands, my fingers to eat.” Morgan was also subjected periodically to beatings by what was referred to as a she-lay-lay- a piece of sailcloth soaked in water, twisted into knots, and laid out to dry for days. The ceremony could be even worse than that: “Then they had one of them wind socks where they’re a pretty good size- they’re six foot long, eight foot long, something like that, and they had a bunch of these together, and they saved up all the beans and stuff, and they put it in the sun and made it rotten, and they put this in there, and they made you crawl through there on your hands and knees… They used the she-lay-lays on your ass when you were going through the windsock! Aw man, it was really something.”[3] As Morgan explained though, it could be worse. “This one guy from our division, I’ll never forget, he was from Murpheesboro, Tennessee, and they didn’t care for him because he was a kind of half a hillbilly, you know, and they just beat the hell out of him. They put him in sick bay. They beat him. The initiation takes all about six days anyhow- then they had one of them wind socks where they’re a pretty good size- they’re- what are they… six foot long, eight foot long, something like that, and they had a bunch of these together, and they saved up all the beans and stuff, and they put it in the sun and made it rotten, and they put this in there, and they made you crawl through there on your hands and knees, because that’s all you could do, and if you’re ass was sticking up, wham, wham, wham, wham!! They used the shi-le-les onyour ass when you’re going through that windsock! Aw man, it was really something. And then they dumped you- they had these life rafts and they had- I don’t know where the devil they got it, but they put this liner in there and filled it with water, and they made you jump in there and King Neptune had a cattleprod- you know what I mean…”[4]

After the end of an equator-crossing ceremony, life aboard the Indiana would settle back down to somewhat of a routine. With over 2400 men on board at any time, the Indiana was practically a small city. It was equipped with barber shops, huge mess halls, and even an ice cream parlor. However, life was not always comfortable. Most of the enlisted men slept in large berthing areas with bunks stacked three or four high. One exception to this was Paul Manegold, who as a Chaplain’s Assistant was given his own personal quarters. However, most slept in the large holds ,and as it was un-air conditioned below decks, conditions could become very hot and humid in crew quarters. It could become so miserable that every two weeks crew members would bring their mattresses on deck and suspend them over the side of the ship to air out. Many crew members also chose to sleep on deck rather down in the holds, where there was always a cool sea breeze. Sleeping on deck also meant that sailors could quickly man the anti-aircraft guns in the event of air raids, which became more frequent the closer Indiana moved to Japan.

While each crew member whom I interviewed had different responsibilities, three of them had battle stations in anti-aircraft positions. Manegold was a fuse-pot loader in one of the five-inch gun turrets, Morgan was a loader for one of the dual-40mm mounts, and Samuel Armao (who I will introduce later), was an ammunition passer for a dual-40mm mount. It is not surprising that three of these sailors were involved in anti-aircraft defense- as the war raged on and the Japanese began using large numbers of kamikazes in the hopes of sinking American warships, the American solution was to pile as many anti-aircraft guns onto ships as possible. As a result, when the Indiana came under aerial attack, many sailors would rush to their guns and would have stay at their posts for hours on end- sometimes longer. While the Indiana was supporting operations off Okinawa in the spring of 1945, many anti-aircraft gunners were at their posts for days on end. Both Manegold and Morgan had the experience of spending days at their posts- occasionally they would be able to catch naps, eat sandwiches and drink coffee brought to them by other sailors during lulls in the action. Once Japanese planes were overhead, however, the crews quickly began putting up anti-aircraft fire. Morgan described the process for firing at enemy planes: “I was a loader on a 40mm anti-aircraft gun… I’m the guy who came up and shoved them in the barrel. That was what they called a first loader… Each 40mm has a clip, and there’s four shells in this clip, and when you shove it down, it just goes off, your clip goes one way, and then your empty cartridges go down another slide in front of the gun mount… And there was what they called a gun director and spotter and each director operator is on a thing that is automatic- he’s strapped in, and the spotter tells him… it’s a bogey, and he’s out so many degrees 30 miles away, so they’ll be all ready for that. And whoever it was up in the tower, he said “Number 4, Number 7, Number 8, whatever it is, fire.” And then we’d start banging away.”[5] Manegold had a similar job as a fuse pot loader- he would take shells that had been lifted up to the fuse room and add a timed fuse to them. These fuses were set to explode at ranges depending on the distance of the target. Despite the impressive array of firepower, enemy planes would still get through at times. During the Great Marianas Turkey Shoot (Battle of the Philippine Sea) on June 19, 1944, one Japanese torpedo bomber managed to penetrate the Combat Air Patrol (CAP) and intense barrage of flak to make a run at the Indiana. “… we had one come down real low on the water, and how the devil got through all that anti-aircraft fire, I don’t know, because there was 5 inch, 40mms and 20mms going off, you know, and a lot of them had to hit him, because he just barely hit the water and hit the side of the ship… And nobody got hurt, but there was a couple of them [sailors] that turned around and wanted souveniers, and they grabbed some pieces of the plane, and they burned the hell out of them…”[6] Manegold was one of the sailors who grabbed a piece of the plane, “Yeah, it hit the ship- the shell didn’t go off… it just kind of splattered over the ship, it was coming down so fast. And when it hit the ship the torpedo that they had went into the water. But the plane was all beat up- that flew into the water, and pieces of it were all over the ship. I had pieces of it, but I never knew what happened to them.”[7]

Morgan recalls this incident as well. “We got three in one day- we had one come down real low on the water, and how the devil they got through all that anti-aircraft fire, I don’t know, because there was 5 inch, and 40mms and 20mms going off, you know, and a lot of them had to hit him, because he just barely hit the water and hit the side of the ship, right at the same time. And nobody got hurt, but there was a couple of them that turned around and wanted souveneirs, and they grabbed some pieces of that plane, and they burned the hell out of them, because their hands were all burnt… But that one that I’m talking about, that we were looking at, after we got into port, and everything was secure, we had some what they called side-cleaning where they guys over there clean up, painted, whatever had to be scrubbed and painted, you know, and we seen little dots right there. And we asked the gunner’s mate, “What the devil is that?” And he says, “You don’t know what that is?” “No.” And he says, “That’s where the bullets from the Japanese aircraft hit.” And it was about- I’d say about three feet below us, you know. And if he’d been three feet higher, neither anybody on the gun crew would have been there.”[8]

Aircraft were not the only threat to the Indiana. On another occasion, Morgan recalls a close encounter with a submarine that had snuck in amongst the task force, while off the coast of Saipan. “But then they had a great big carrier, one of the carriers out there, and they had a band on there- I don’t know whose band it was, but at that time period, they had a Irish tenor called Dennis Day. Dennis Day was his name. And I imagine their people would remember him, because he was singing Irish songs, and other songs, and he had the big band, one of the big bands in that time period, they were playing there, and how they got that band on there, I don’t know, but that was that band was there for a while, and we listened to that. It was what you’d call a “touch of home”, you know, because Dennis Day was a good singer. When I was a kid, I always listened to him, you know. And we were there, like I say, near the island watching Saipan, and all at once there was a destroyer making all kinds of noise, and he’s coming toward us, and he’s going like the devil. And we were saying, “What the devil is this shit, why’s he coming so close to us?” And he started dropping depth charges, and he got a submarine real close to us- I guess maybe hundred feet, hundred and fifty feet away from us. We seen a oil slick come up, and a bunch of stuff, you know, clothing and looked like wooden crates, cardboard, and all this crap come up, so he- he was no more.”[9] Initially, for many new sailors, just as with their brethren soldiers, marines, and airmen, combat was a shock that produced moments of horror coupled with absolute terror. However, the constant combat led to many gradually numbing to the realities of war. I asked Morgan if he was ever afraid of being in combat. He replied, “No, for the simple reason that you’re scared. When you’re scared, you don’t get to… it’s a feeling you’ll never forget. You’re just doing the job, and you’re scared. Yeah, you’re scared. But then after a while, it kind of wears off, you know, and you just say, “Well hell, that’s just my job.” Just slam them 40mms in there, and that’s it, because it’s your job, and you know it’s your job. But you just figure if you don’t get that guy, then he’s going to get you, you know. Simple. But being afraid, oh yeah, you’re afraid. You can see them in the air, you can see them dogfighting up in the air, you know, and you’re thinking, “My time?” That’s about that.”[10]

Fortunately for the crew, US Navy personnel were afforded the occasional luxury of shore leave. Manegold recalls that, “…you’d have big parties, stuff like that. We had a recreation center, on the beach, we had one called “Shangri-La” in the Philippines. And I used to go over there with the beer and give them the beer and stuff like that. One place of recreation over there, the Red Cross had a cabin or shack or something, and they were selling doughnuts and soda. They were selling it, right? I says, “Anybody goes up there, no more beer for them- I’ll remember that you don’t get no beer. Go ahead, go to the Red Cross. Get your soda for a nickel or dime. We had stacks of soda on these islands that were higher than some of these buildings we’ve got over here in New York. That’s how much soda was sent to the islands. We had Pepsi-Cola, Coca-Cola, Fiesta, all different kinds of soda, and they stacked it and stacked it and stacked it- it kept going up until it was as high as a four-story building.”[11] For Manegold, his position as a Chaplain’s Assistant also allowed him the rare opportunity to go to another ship, the carrier USS Wasp, to visit a friend. “So the “Wasp” was in there, and one of my friends that joined the Navy with me, he was on the “Wasp.” So I put on my good whites, and neckerchief and everything, and showed my card, showed to the truant officer of the deck, and then they called the captain’s skiff around, and I went over to visit my friend in the “Wasp.” The officers- nobody was allowed to leave the ship, but my pass says “Permission to Retain”, and then I threw my Liberty card in the box. So I could go off the ship any time I felt like. That was my privilege of being a Chaplain’s Assistant.”[12]

Through 1945, the crew of the Indiana continued the routine of bombarding islands and attempting to shoot-down kamikazes. In early June 1945, the Indiana encountered a severe typhoon that caused serious damage to several ships. The Indiana herself lost control of her steering for forty-five minutes. Carrier remembers the typhoon well- “It was, um, It was not a good experience. We would go underwater- the bow would go underwater- it looked like it would stay down- it washed a few 20mm gun boxes off the deck- and nobody could go on the main deck during that time, and it would roll- so many degrees that I didn’t know it would roll back.”[13] By the next day, the typhoon had abated, and the Indiana continued on its mission. The Indiana would spend the last few months of the war bombarding Japan. Following the end of the war, the battleship went to Japan and picked up a large number of POWs, many of whom were Canadians captured years earlier in the war. “Well, we were getting ready to go into Tokyo Bay and, this was at nighttime, we were cruising along, not very fast, real slow. Then we seen a big giant light on the shore, you know, real close to the shore, huge light. And it scared half the guys on there, you know. We’ve never seen anything like that, everything’s black at nighttime, and we hear over the loudspeakers that we’re taking on passengers. So we did- we had 110 Canadian grenadiers, soldiers, you know. They were Winnipeg Grenadiers- that was the outfit they were in, and they were captured in Singapore in 1939, and you can imagine what they looked like… Bones, that’s all they were, just a bunch of bones, you know. So we fed ‘em real good, and they said, “Do you guys always eat like this?” “Heck, yeah!” And we got rid of them and we took on some more, see they had to empty the prison camp- they’d just taken them out of the prison camp… So we took them, and the day after, two days after, we took a bunch more- I think we took about 90, but some of them were personnel that were working at the navy yard and around the port and all that stuff, you know, they had to have a bunch of them around the port for this and that and everything else. Most of them were all civilians, and there was a few navy personnel there... That was hell. And one guy fell down- he fell down the ladder, well steps, you know- and he broke a leg, and they wanted to take his buddy away, you know, transfer him, and he said, “No, I’m staying with him until he’s ready to go together- we’ve all had from ’39 until now together, and I’m going with him and you’re not going to stop me. I’m going with him!” So we kept him there, you know, about four days until he was ready to stand on that leg or whatever it was. But we had him for I think three or four days.”[14] After picking up the POWs, the Indiana transferred them to other ships, then sailed for home in mid-September with a full load of American servicemen on board. It was after she arrived home in the States that the last veteran I interviewed joined the crew.

 Samuel Armao was born in Reading, Pennsylvania on November 12, 1925. When Pearl Harbor was attacked, he was at a friend’s house listening to a football game on the radio. He realized that he would soon be old enough to be eligible for military service, and felt that joining up was his duty. He enlisted in the Navy just days after graduation from high school. “I always wanted to be a sailor, even when I was a youngster. When I got older, I didn’t feel too much inclined to be living in the mud, which would happen if I was drafted into the Army.”[15] After joining the Navy, Armao was sent to boot camp in Samson, New York, where he learned basic seamanship. Following boot camp, Armao remained at Samson for six months, training as a store keeper. Initially, he had hoped to become a Gunner’s Mate, but he was designated as a store keeper because he had had a semester’s worth of typing experience in high school. However, like many other sailors, his battle station would be at an anti-aircraft gun. Following his training, Armao was sent to Schumaker, California, to await assignment. After two weeks, he was sent to the USS Radford (DD-446), a destroyer preparing to leave for the South Pacific. He spent over a year on board the Radford and was involved in numerous actions, such as shore bombardments and convoy escort. During his time on the destroyer, Armao didn’t feel some of the stress of combat that others felt: “You just get involved in it, you don’t think too much- you’ve been trained to do a job, and you do your job, and when you’re 17, 18 years old, you’re big, dumb and happy and you’re invincible. You know people are getting killed, but you never think it’s going to happen to you. Most of us don’t. And that’s why a lot of times in the Navy we didn’t generally have post-traumatic stress. And it’s more common in the Army because you’re on land and there are guys coming at you with a gun or hand grenade- you’re shooting at him, he’s shooting at you- you see him face to face. But in the Navy, a lot of times the guy’s in an airplane, or he’s in another ship, or he’s on the land- you don’t see him up close- it doesn’t become that personal to you. And I think that’s what bothers people that are in the Army- it’s more of a personal conflict- right in your face.”[16]  Armao also had the misfortune of experiencing Typhoon Cobra in December 1944, a storm that has been estimated to have been a Category 4 typhoon which was responsible for sinking three US Navy ships and resulting in the deaths of nearly 800 US sailors.

                                                                         Samuel Armao

In mid-February 1945, of the coast of Corregidor, Radford was attempting to come to the aid of another destroyer, the USS La Vallette, when she herself struck a mine. “…we heard the explosion, and the ship started to settle in the water, and of course, you don’t know how far down its going to go or if it’s going to sink. Fortunately, it stopped short of where it would sink us. But an interesting thing, we had the ship’s doctor, he was looking over the side of our ship, watching what was happening with the destroyer in front of us that ran into a mine, we ran into a mine and it blew him overboard. And about a week later they had a presentation where they give him a cardboard set of wings because he flew. He wasn’t hurt.”[17] When the Radford eventually returned to the States for repairs in May, Armao stayed with the destroyer until September. The ship was still being repaired, and Armao had just been promoted, so he was moved to the Indiana in October. Armao was immediately impressed with the huge difference in size between the relatively small Radford and the enormous battleship. “We had things you don’t have on a destroyer. We had a barber shop- you sit on a three-legged stool and a guy cuts your hair while the ship’s underway. And aboard the battleship, we had at least four barbers, regular barber chairs and all, and we had what the Navy called [unintelligible] stands, basically a soda fountain, and we could get ice cream, and sundaes, and milkshakes, Coca-Cola, stuff like that. It’s heaven compared to living in a destroyer.”[18] On the Indiana, Armao continued his previous role as store keeper, with his battle station being in damage control. However, since it was now peace time, conditions aboard were substantially relaxed. Armao noticed that while the war had been on, all of the guns were always manned, no matter the time of day. During peace time, however, few of the guns were manned during night watches. Even the meals changed during the peace. “Well, they had special meals, like Thanksgiving turkey and stuff like that. You’d have a better meal, and ice cream and things like that, which you normally wouldn’t have during the regular week. So we’d have every Thanksgiving like you were in port. Celebrate Christmas and Easter, things like that.”[19] Armao left the Indiana in May 1946 when he was discharged from the Navy.

                Ozen Carrier left the Indiana in March 1945. At the time of the surrender of Japan, Carrier was in a Navy school. He was discharged that December. After the war, he drove a bus for Trailways for eight years. Following this, he went to work as a civilian at a nearby Army facility. Eventually, he worked as a longshoreman, a job in which he continued to work until his retirement in 1986. He lives in his hometown of Wilmington, North Carolina. 

                Paul Manegold left the Navy in 1946. After his service, he worked in a number of restaurants, bakeries, and bus companies until he found work with an aerospace company. He is now retired and lives in his home state of New Jersey.

                Charles Morgan returned to the pottery job at which he had been working prior to the war following his discharge in February 1946. In 1948, he went to work at a steel mill which had opened not far from his home. He worked there for 32 years until the mill’s closure in 1980. He currently resides in Ohio.

                After his discharge from the Navy in May 1946, Armao worked as an assistant manager in several offices.  When the Korean War broke out in 1950, he was attending the University of Pennsylvania for a degree in finance. Believing that he would be called up, he volunteered for another four years in the Navy. He served first for two years with a shore command at Annapolis, then for another two years aboard the destroyer USS Charles R. Ware. After his second stint in the Navy, Armao went to work for a construction company and stayed with them for 31 years, retiring in 1985. He currently lives in North Ridgeville, Ohio.

[1] Paul Manegold, 12/19/13

[2] Ozen Carrier, 11/16/13

[3] Charles Morgan, 12/18/13

[4] Charles Morgan, 12/18/13

[5] Charles Morgan, 12/18/13

[6] Charles Morgan, 12/18/13

[7] Paul Manegold, 12/19/13

[8] Charles Morgan, 12/18/13

[9] Charles Morgan, 12/18/13

[10] Charles Morgan, 12/18/13

[11] Paul Manegold, 12/19/13

[12] Paul Manegold, 12/19/13

[13] Ozen Carrier, 11/16/13

[14] Charles Morgan, 12/18/13

[15] Samuel Armao, 11/17/13

[16] Samuel Armao, 11/17/13

[17] Samuel Armao, 11/17/13

[18] Samuel Armao, 11/17/13

[19] Samuel Armao, 11/17/13

Tools of War: Battleship USS Indiana

While much attention has been given the heavy cruiser USS Indianapolis, relatively little has been shown to another warship named for the Hoosier State, the battleship USS Indiana.

By Seth Marshall

                In terms of well-known ships, the heavy cruiser USS Indianapolis (CA-35) is one of the most famous ships of the Second World War. Participating in campaigns throughout the course of the war, the cruiser is famous for its delivery of atomic bomb components to Tinian Island and for being torpedoed by a Japanese submarine on her return trip. The warship and her survivors have certainly attained a level of fame in Indiana, where there are several memorials to her.  The ship has become so well-known in fact, that it has caused other ships named after the Hoosier State to be forgotten. One of these ships was the USS Indiana (BB-58), a battleship which served in the Pacific throughout the Second World War.

The USS Indiana was one of several battleships constructed prior to the start of the Second World War designed to comply with the terms of the Washington Naval Treaty of 1922, the London Naval Treaty of 1930 and the Second London Naval Treaty of 1936. These treaties forbade the construction of warships which displaced more than 35,000 tons and which were armed with guns larger than 16 in. In the 1930s, the US Navy began to build new classes of battleships to comply with these treaties, including the North Carolina-class and the South Dakota-class. The South Dakota-class, which the Indiana was an example of, was slightly smaller than the North Carolina-class but had the same armament (nine 16 in guns) and comparable armor.

The construction of the Indiana was authorized by the Vinson-Trammell Act on March 27, 1934, which allowed for the building of new ships under the terms of the Washington and London Naval Treaties. On September 21, 1938, President Roosevelt approved the ship name. One year later on November 20, 1939, theIndiana was laid down at Newport News Shipbuilding & Drydock Company, Newport News, Virginia. Two years later on November 21, 1941, the battleship was launched. She was completed and commissioned five months later on April 30, 1942, with Captain Aaron S. Merrill as her first Commanding Officer.

The Indiana spent much of 1942 undergoing sea trials and crew training. By early November, she was declared ready for sea and battle. On November 9, 1942, she sailed for the Panama Canal from Hampton Roads. After passing through the Canal from November 13-14, the battleship joined up with Task Group 2.6 and sailed for Tongatabu, arriving late in the month. Later, she joined with Task Group 64 in exercises. On December 19, 1942, the Indiana made her first contact with Japanese forces when several unidentified aircraft were seen by lookouts. The planes never closed for an attack, but the Indiana’s War Diary for the day read “With our first contact it appears that we are at last ‘in the war’ and maybe business will pick up.”[1]The Indiana spent much of the next six months training and drilling with other ships in the South Pacific.

The USS Indiana in November 1942, not long after she reached the Pacific.

During June and July 1943, the Indiana took part in the campaign to liberate the New Georgia island group. The following month, the battleship participated in air raids on Marcus Island, serving as an escort ship for the aircraft carriers. After the Marcus Island raids, the Indiana returned to Pearl Harbor for sixteen days of dry dock repairs. Following repairs, the warship steamed to various ports including Tambako, Viti Levu, and Fiji. On November 11, she put to sea to take part in Operation Galvanic, again serving as an escort ship for aircraft carriers. During this operation, the Indiana finally fired its first shots of the war, shooting down one of several Japanese aircraft attacking the US fleet.

On December 8th, the Indiana took part in the bombardment of the Japanese garrison at Nauru. The battleship’s OS2U Kingfisher floatplanes were also involved in the shelling, serving as artillery spotters and photographing the damage inflicted by the battleships. After bombarding Nauru, the Indiana returned to training operations, which went on through January. On February 1, 1944, the Indiana and several other warships fired on Japanese positions at Kwajalein in preparation for a combined Marine and Army troop invasion. Several shore batteries opened fire on the ship, though none found their mark. Unfortunately, the Indiana was not so lucky early the next morning. At 0415, the Indiana’s Captain, James M. Steele, made an unannounced turn to starboard which put the warship on a collision course with the battleship USS Washington. Despite the efforts of the Washington to change course, the two ships collided. The Indiana had 200 feet of armor plating scraped away, while the Washington suffered a collapsed bow. Six sailors from the Washington and four from the Indiana were killed in the accident. Captain Steele was later found responsible by a Court of Inquiry and was removed from command in March. Both ships were forced to return to Pearl Harbor for extensive repairs.

Repairs to the ship were completed in April, and the Indiana sailed to Seeadler Harbor. She joined Task Group 58.3 in time to support carrier raids on Truk Lagoon, the Imperial Japanese Navy’s Central Pacific anchorage. In May, the Indiana raided Panape Island before going to Majuro and entering another period of drilling. On June 6th, the battleship left port to support the invasion of Saipan. Arriving on June 13, the Indiana and other battleships of Task Group 58 began a preparatory bombardment which lasted two days. On the 15th, the day of the beginning of the invasion, Japanese aircraft began attacking the ships offshore. These attacks culminated four days later with the Great Marianas Turkey Shoot, when over seven hundred Japanese aircraft attacked the US fleet. Many were shot down by carrier fighters, but several broke through to make attack runs on ships. The Indiana had a near miss from a torpedo, but did not suffer any damage. Over the course of the day, the Indiana shot down four planes and fired 9000 20mm and 4800 40mm anti-aircraft rounds. So many shells were fired by the Indiana and other ships of the fleet that five crewmen on the warship were wounded by shrapnel from flak.[2]

The Indiana in the spring of 1944 after repairs from her collision with the USS Washington.

The Indiana continued to support raids on Japanese-held islands until September 15, when she developed engine problems. The battleship sailed to Manus Island, then to Pearl Harbor, then to Puget Sound Navy Yard for overhaul, arriving in late October. The overhaul was completed on November 30, 1944, and the Indianasailed for Pearl Harbor. She spent the rest of the year performing exercises and drilling . On January 10, 1945, the Indiana sailed from Pearl Harbor with Task Group 94.9 for Iwo Jima. She bombarded the island on January 24, before going to the US Navy base at Ulithi Atoll for the rest of the month. In February, the Indiana operated in support of air raids in the Tokyo area and other Japanese military facilities. In March the battleship took part in additional raids against Japan. The Indiana and other ships in the task group came under attack by kamikazes several times during operations of the coast, shooting down one intruder. On March 24, the Indianabombarded Okinawa and supported carrier operations against Okinawa and other Japanese islands. During April, the battleship continued to be involved in the Okinawa campaign, coming under kamikaze attack several times. On April 12, theIndiana had two near misses from kamikazes. Two days later, she shot down three more planes attacking the fleet. At the end of the month, the Indiana returned to Ulithi Atoll.

In mid-May, the Indiana supported raids on Kyushu. She continued to support carrier operations in the area through May. On June 5, the Indiana and Task Group 38 encountered a violent typhoon. At 0700, shortly after the eye had passed over the warship, she lost control of her steering. She regained control forty-five minutes later. By early evening, the typhoon had passed. Thirty-six ships were damaged as a result of the storm. Three days later, the Indiana was back on task, supporting strikes at Kyushu. On the 11th, the battleship steamed for San Pedro in the Philippines for maintenance and supplies. She rejoined Task Force 38 in early July and participated in the first shelling of the Japanese home islands by large warships during the war. On July 14, the Indiana joined in bombarding the Kamaishi Steel Works at Kamaishi, Honshu. A few days later, the Indiana joined with several British battleships in shelling the Japanese Musical Instrument Company, which was responsible for the production of aircraft propellers. [3] For the remainder of the war, the Indiana continued to operate in support of the aircraft carriers while bombarding Japanese facilities near the coast.

Indiana bombards Kamaishi, Japan, 400km to the north of Tokyo on July 14, 1945. This was the first naval bombardment of the Japanese Home Islands during the war.

INDIANA BOMBARDS KAMAISHI, JAPAN, 400KM TO THE NORTH OF TOKYO ON JULY 14, 1945. THIS WAS THE FIRST NAVAL BOMBARDMENT OF THE JAPANESE HOME ISLANDS DURING THE WAR.

The Indiana received word of the Japanese surrender on the morning of August 15. A Marine Detachment from the ship took part in the first occupation of the Japanese islands on August 30. Six days later, the Indiana entered Tokyo Bay and served as a transfer point for Allied POWs returning home, processing many of them before sending them to other vessels for transport home. On September 15, the Indiana left Tokyo Bay and sailed for Pearl Harbor, staying briefly before going to San Francisco with full load of American servicemen returning home. The Indiana remained in San Francisco for a month, undergoing repairs in dry dock, before going to Puget Sound Naval Shipyard. There, she was emptied of all ammunition and moored at Pier No. 3. In spring 1946, the Indiana was shifted to the Bremerton Pacific Reserve Fleet as a result of the Navy’s Postwar Plan Number Two. Indiana was decommissioned on September 11, 1947. She remained at Bremerton in Reserve until September 6, 1963, when she was sold for scrap to the Nicolai Joffe Corporation in Beverly Hills, California. The following month, the Indiana made her last sea voyage down the West Coast to Richmond Harbor, where she was broken up.

Today, a number of artifacts from the Indiana survive. Two dual 40mm anti-aircraft guns, the mast, and the prow are on display at Indiana University’s Memorial Stadium. Her anchor is located at the Allen County War Memorial Coliseum in Fort Wayne, Indiana, while her battle flag and two bells are preserved in the Indiana War Memorial in Indianapolis. These few relics are all that remain of the Indiana, which despite receiving nine battle stars for her World War II service has remained relatively unknown thanks to the infamy surrounding the USS Indianapolis.

[1] Indiana (BB-58). http://www.history.navy.mil/danfs/i1/indiana-iii.htm Page 1.

[2] USS Indiana (BB-58) http://www.history.navy.mil/danfs/i1/indiana-iii.htm Page 3.

[3] USS Indiana (BB-58), http://www.history.navy.mil/danfs/i1/indiana-iii.htm Page 4

The Israeli Air Force & Operation Moked

In perhaps one of the most effective air strikes in history, the IAF annihilated the Egyptian Air Force in a preemptive attack and paved the way for the IDF’s advance into the Sinai Peninsula.

By Seth Marshall

                In the months leading up to the Six Day War of June 1967, tensions among Israel and the neighboring countries of Egypt, Jordan, and Syria were extremely high. With the surrounding Arab nations, particularly Egypt, equipped with Soviet vehicles and weaponry and increasingly hostile to the existence of Israel, the Israeli Defense Force (IDF) increased its preparations for offensive actions. One of the key components of this planning was Operation Moked (Focus), an Israeli Air Force (IAF) operation designed to completely destroy the Egyptian Air Force on the ground. Initially planned during the years following the Suez Canal Crisis in 1956, the operation was refined further by air force commanders prior to the war.

                Moked was the product of planning by IAF chief Brigadier General Mordechai Hod and other senior air force officers. The plan called for a pre-emptive strike against the military forces of neighboring Arab countries and the maintaining of aerial supremacy during IDF operations. The success of IDF operations would depend on the effectiveness of the IAF strike. Given the combined weight of Egypt, Jordan and Syria, this would be no easy task. The three countries combined could bring to bear some 328,000 men, 2300 tanks, 1800 APCs, 2200 anti-aircraft emplacements (including SAM batteries), and nearly 700 aircraft. [1] The bulk of the aircraft were operated by the Egyptian Air Force, and were all Soviet-supplied: MiG-17 fighters, MiG-19 supersonic fighters, MiG-21 supersonic fighters, Tu-16 strategic bombers, and Il-28 medium bombers. To counter this impressive array of forces, the IAF had 196 front-line combat aircraft. Nearly all of these were upgraded French aircraft: Sud Aviation light bombers, Dassault Ouragon fighter-bombers, Dassault Super Mystere fighters, and 76 of the excellent Dassault Mirage IIICJ fighters.[2]

                Despite the difference in numbers, the Israelis were well-prepared for Moked. They had designed a runway-penetrating bomb, which used a parachute to activate a rocket, propelling the warhead through concrete surfaces. While there was only 196 combat aircraft in the IAF’s inventory, there were three pilots for every aircraft, ensuring that rested pilots would be available to replace tired or wounded flyers. The IAF had also built several bases in the desert which were modeled after Egyptian air bases, allowing pilots to practice attack runs prior to operations.[3] Pilots were not the only personnel who trained- ground crews trained to be able to re-arm and re-fuel an aircraft quickly, allowing them to fly multiple missions every day. The practice paid off-the IAF had an aircraft availability rate of 90%, which would allow nearly all of its combat aircraft to get airborne on the 5th, while the Egyptians could only manage 30%.[4]               

                The IAF’s plan was intricate. The primary objectives of Moked was the destruction of Egypt’s Tu-16and Il-28 bombers, which had the range to hit Israel, and MiG-21 fighters, which was the most capable fighter aircraft fielded by the Arab Air Forces. Secondary objectives included the destruction of the airfields and anti-aircraft defenses, which would prevent the Egyptians from scrambling fighters to intercept Israeli aircraft and allow them to continue strikes with less risk from ground fire. In fact, the IAF planned to send its aircraft at extreme low level (less than 18 meters)and at high-speed to avoid anti-aircraft defenses.[5] While this would still mean that the aircraft would still be vulnerable to light flak, it eliminated danger from the most lethal form of anti-aircraft defenses available to the Egyptians: the SA-2 surface-to-air missile (SAM). The SA-2 was a deadly efficient weapon, but it was only effective above 4,000 feet.[6] Additionally, the IAF had found gaps in the Egyptian radar screen and arranged for its planes to fly through these gaps.[7] Finally, the IAF chose not to time their strike with dawn but rather at 0845 Egyptian time. The IAF reasoned that at this time, the morning alert MiGs would have stood down, many Egyptian pilots and air force officers would be eating breakfast, and still others would be making their way to work through rush hour traffic.[8]

                At 0710 Israeli time on June 5th, sixteen Magister Fouga training aircraft took off using patrol patterns that were identical to Mirage fighters, indicating the normal daily routine to the surrounding Arab countries. Just five minutes later, the first of 183 combat aircraft began to take off for the strike on Egypt- this represented 95% of the IAF. Just 12 fighters remained behind to provide air defense. [9] As the aircraft took off, they formed up into groups of four aircraft and headed off in intervals, in order to ensure that a flight of Israeli aircraft would constantly be flying over Egyptian air bases. Once airborne, the aircraft headed west for 18 minutes before turning south. Just before arriving over their respective targets (ten separate airfields for the first wave), the formations abruptly climbed to nine thousand feet to begin their attack runs.[10]

THE DASSAULT MIRAGE IIICJ (WHICH WAS THE ISRAELI-EXPORT VERSION) WAS A FRENCH-BUILT DELTA-WING FIGHTER CAPABLE OF TRAVELING AT SPEEDS EXCEEDING MACH 2. THE AIRCRAFT WAS USED BY THE IAF FOR BOTH GROUND ATTACK AND AERIAL DOGFIGHTING, A TASK AT WHICH IT EXCELLED. SO SUCCESSFUL WAS THE DESIGN THAT IT EVENTUALLY WAS DEVELOPED INTO THREE OTHER AIRCRAFT BY DASSAULT. PHOTO CREDIT: HTTP://WWW.OOCITIES.ORG/CAPECANAVERAL/HANGAR/2848/MIRAGE.HTM

                The IAF’s aerial assault caught the Egyptians completely off guard. Jordanian radar sites had detected the departing armada and had attempted to warn the Egyptians, but the latter had changed their radio codes the previous day and didn’t understand the messages. Even better for the Israelis was the fact that Field Marshal Abd el Hakim Amer and air force commander General Mohammad Sidqi Mahmoud were inspecting their forces in the Sinai peninsula and had ordered their men not to fire on any passing aircraft for fear of having themselves shot down. [11] In the span of 20 minutes, all targeted airfields were hit three times. The first wave of Israeli attacks lasted 80 minutes, which was followed by a 10 minute lull, and which in turn was followed by another 80 minutes of attacks by the second wave. Every aircraft had enough fuel for three or four bombing and strafing passes on targets. [12]By 0900 Egyptian time, two bases in Egypt and four in the Sinai Peninsula had been completely destroyed. [13] At the end of the second wave, the Egyptian Air Force had lost 293 aircraft which included: all 30 of the Tu-16 bombers, 27 Il-28 medium bombers, 12 Su-7 fighter-bombers, 90 MiG-21 fighters, 20 MiG-19 fighters, and 75 MiG-17 fighters.[14] Against this, the Israelis had lost ten aircraft in the first wave, with six pilots killed.

                After spending the morning focusing on Egyptian bases, at 1245 the IAF sent its planes to attack Jordanian, Syrian and Iraqi bases. The raids destroyed all 28 of the Jordanian Air Force’s Hawker Hunters, completely eliminating it as a fighting force, while the Syrians lost 57 planes, a full two-thirds of its force and the Iraqis had lost ten planes.[15] In addition, the IAF was highly successful against its opponents which managed to get into the air; the Mirages shot down 50 MiGs on June 5th without any loss to themselves.[16] Overall, during the course of the war, the Israelis destroyed 452 Arab aircraft while losing only 46.[17] To be fair, 46 aircraft represented roughly a quarter of the IAF’s combat strength, but with the entire Jordanian Air Force, the entire Syrian Air Force and most of the Egyptian Air Force eliminated, this seemed to be a fair trade off. After the first two days of fighting, Arab airpower essentially ceased to exist, and the IAF was free to provide tactical air support to the advancing IDF ground forces, inflicting catastrophic losses in men and materiel on Egyptian columns which became trapped in narrow passes. IAF domination of the skies and effective tactical support helped the IDF quickly defeat several Arab armies and take the entire Sinai peninsula within a matter of days.

Taken by a low-flying IAF Mirage (whose shadow is visible at the bottom of the picture), three MiG-21s lie destroyed at Inchas airfield. Photo credit: http://www.oocities.org/capecanaveral/hangar/2848/opera6_2.htm

                Operation Moked remains one of the most successful air strikes in military history, perhaps only exceeded in scale and magnitude by the Luftwaffe’s opening raids on the Soviet Union at the beginning of Operation Barbarossa. Despite being grossly outnumbered, the IAF had completely annihilated the Arab air forces through a combination of careful planning and excellent training. Despite the devastating blow, the Arab air forces, particularly the Egyptians quickly recovered thanks to the influx of Soviet equipment, and the Egyptians would continue to harass the Israelis during the War of Attrition and the Yom Kippur War of 1973. Still, Moked definitively proved that the IAF was one of the most elite air forces in the world and demonstrated the potential of a highly-coordinated and well-planned aerial strike.

Sources

1.       Dunstan, Simon, and Peter Dennis. The Six Day War, 1967: Sinai. Oxford, UK: Osprey Pub., 2009. Print.

2.       Churchill, Randolph S., and Winston S. Churchill. The Six Day War. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1967. Print.

3.       Citino, Robert Michael. Blitzkrieg to Desert Storm: The Evolution of Operational Warfare. Lawrence, Kan.: U of Kansas, 2004. Print.

4.       "Egyptian Front." Egyptian Front. Six Day War.org, n.d. Web. 17 Apr. 2014.

[1] P.25, Dunstan, The Six Day War, 1967: Sinai

[2] P.29, Dunstan, The Six Day War, 1967: Sinai

[3] P.30, Dunstan, The Six Day War, 1967: Sinai

[4] P.30, Dunstan, The Six Day War, 1967: Sinai

[5] P.30, Dunstan, The Six Day War, 1967: Sinai

[6] P. 84, Churchill & Churchill

[7] P.1, sixdaywar.org

[8] P.33 Dunstan, The Six Day War, 1967: Sinai

[9] P.31, Dunstan, The Six Day War, 1967: Sinai

[10] P.34 Dunstan, The Six Day War, 1967: Sinai

[11] P.32 Dunstan, The Six Day War, 1967: Sinai

[12] P.81 Churchill & Churchill

[13] P.35 Dunstan, The Six Day War, 1967: Sinai

[14] P.35-37 Dunstan, The Six Day War, 1967: Sinai

[15] P.39, Dunstan, The Six Day War, 1967: Sinai

[16] P.91 Churchill & Churchill

[17] P.167 Citino, Blitzkrieg to Desert Storm