Len,

Thank you for you letter. I will ask my CO today. It was good to be able to get onto the web sites and see the photos and histories of the other DDG's. You ones were so more armed than ours. Is USS CHARLES F. ADAMS the only one that's been preserved?

I didn't think the ship paying off would effect me as much as it has. We done our final entry into Sydney last Wednesday, flying the decommissioning flag and playing Proud Mary by Credence, our RAS song. When we finally pulled in it really hit me. Its hard to believe this is the last week of commission.

Jarrod

Dear Dad,

Dear Dad, Well, we are still out at sea, with little direction as to what our next priority is. The remainder of our port visits, which were to be centered around max liberty and goodwill to the United Kingdom, have all but been canceled. We have spent every day since the attacks going back and forth within imaginary boxes drawn in the ocean, standing high-security watches, and trying to make the best of our time. It hasn't been that much fun I must confess, and to be even more honest, a lot of people are frustrated at the fact that they either can't be home, or we don't have more direction right now. We have seen the articles and the photographs, and they are sickening. Being isolated as we are, I don't think we appreciate the full scope of what is happening back home, but we are definitely feeling the effects.

About two hours ago the junior officers were called to the bridge to conduct ship handling drills. We were about to do a man overboard when we got a call from the LUTJENS(D185), a German warship that was moored ahead of us on the pier in Plymouth, England. While in port, the WINSTON S CHURCHILL and the LUTJENS got together for a sports day/cookout on our fantail, and we made some pretty good friends.

Now at sea they called over on bridge-to-bridge, requesting to pass us close up on our port side, to say goodbye. We prepared to render them honors on the bridgewing, and the Captain told the crew to come topside to wish them farewell. As they were making their approach, our Conning Officer announced through her binoculars that they were flying an American flag. As they came even closer, we saw that it was flying at half-mast.

The bridgewing was crowded with people as the Boatswain's Mate blew two whistles- Attention to Port-the ship came up alongside and we saw that the entire crew of the German ship were manning the rails, in their dress blues. They had made up a sign that was displayed on the side that read "We Stand By You".

Needless to say there was not a dry eye on the bridge as they stayed alongside us for a few minutes and we cut our salutes. It was probably the most powerful thing I have seen in my entire life and more than a few of us fought to retain our composure. It was a beautiful day outside today.

We are no longer at liberty to divulge over unsecure e-mail our location, but we could not have asked for a finer day at sea. The German Navy did an incredible thing for this crew, and it has truly been the highest point in the days since the attacks. It's amazing to think that only a half-century ago things were quite different, and to see the unity that is being demonstrated throughout Europe and the world makes us all feel proud to be out here doing our job. After the ship pulled away and we prepared to begin our man overboard drills the Officer of the Deck turned to me and said "I'm staying Navy." I'll write you when I know more about when I'll be home, but for now, this is probably the best news that I could send you. Love you guys.

Thirty five years ago; 1966

BUCHANAN returned to San Diego from WestPac for leave and upkeep.

Thirty years ago; 1971

From 10 December to 31 December, BUCHANAN was in port at San Diego. On 13 December, the began a week of inspections for the coming WESTPAC deployment in February 1972. The week concluded with COMDESRON 31 breaking his flag onboard BUCHANAN.

Twenty years ago; 1981

Contingency operations in the Sea of Japan interrupted the upkeep bringing BUCHANAN off the Korean coast with USS MIDWAY and escorts for two days. BUCHANAN departed the task group, which was enroute for Yokosuka, Japan, and returned to Sasebo for the remainder of the upkeep on December 22. Remaining in Sasebo over Christmas, DDG-14 was underway for Hong Kong on December 27. Steamingindependently, "The Warship" arrived in Hong Kong on New Years Eve.

Paid Members (64)

Ansell, John; Baile, Bruce; Baldwin, Claude; Barnett, Roger; Bartleson, Don; Beinke, Phil; Borg, Gene; Botti, Bill; Boyd, Dave; Boyle, Tim; Browning, Rob; Callison, Bob; Casmier, Dave; Christian, Fred; Connell, Dan; Daisley, Dick; Davies, Jim; Falade, Mark; Falkenhan, Marc; Fend, Tony; Fronk, Jack; Gardella, Paul; Glidewell, Mel; Hart, Eddie; Heffernan, Michael; Herrman, Larry; Holden, Wayne; Howard, John; Huffman, Melvin; Jackson, Thomas; King, Mike; Looney, Glenn; Malone, Dave; Manis, Frank; Moulders, Dick; Myers, Dean; Nepper, Jerry; Nightingale, Tim; Pelzel, Jerry; Perkins, Eric; Perkins, George; Pierce, Jim & Margaret; Poplin, Dave; Repp, John; Ridley, Ray; Ridlon, Lawrence; Robbins, Rich; Roche, Jim; Rudisill, Terry; Schaefer, Larry; Scott, Walter; Sena, Pat; Sheridan, Tom; Smith, Ricky; Stronach, Steve; Sutherland, Terry; Tynan, Don; Ursich, Al; Voepel, Randy; Wihera, Victor; Williamson, Will; Wood, William; Zimmermann, Dick

New Members (8)

Ansell, John FTM1 1966 - 69

Baldwin, Claude ET2 1986 - 91

Bartleson, Don IC3 1965 - 67

Callison, Bob SMC 1961 - 63

Ridley, Ray ETR3 1963 - 65

Sheridan, Tom STG3 1971 - 73

Smith, Ricky FTM2 1969 - 73

Tynan, Don GMCS 1971 - 74

Balance 1 Sept 2001 $2,286.43

Dues 238.00

Ship store sales 177.75

Ship store expenses - 103.27

Balance 4 Dec 2001 $2,598.91

We received some exciting news just after Thanksgiving. The association heard from a David George who served aboard Buchanan as a PN3. David claims to have been the very last watch stander on Buchanan, being the last POOW during her decommissioning ceremony. He holds a rather honorable position in that he was the very last of a longsuccession of men who stood as Petty Officer of the Watch/Bosun's Mate of the Watch over the entire 29 years that the ship was in commission.

When he quit his post, David thought to take the US Colors and the Union Jack with him. These were the very last colors and jack that were flown aboard Buchanan. He also decided to take the ship's Quarterdeck bell and the Buchanan name plate that was used on the Quarterdeck. He has had these artifacts for the past 10 years, waiting for a proper place for them. Last week, he heard about the Buchanan Association and decided to donate them to the association for safe keeping. I know that I echo the sentiments of many, in saying that credit is due David George. Many guys would have kept these items to themselves, but David was noble enough to rise above that temptation and put them in a place where they could be enjoyed by all Buchanan sailors. The artifacts (which, in fact, is what they are) are being sent to Rob Browning who will serve as the Association Curator. He will insure that they make it to all reunions. I will consult the park curator we have on staff in my work place for advice on their safekeeping. We should have them on display in San Diego.

Close Up ROMEO!

This isn’t really a sea story, but it’s close. I wrote it in response to a BUCHANAN shipmate’s request for a short description of what UNREP was like from the perspective of someone on the bridge of a destroyer.

For UNREP operations on the bridge, I have to reach back to my days on USS CHARLES H. ROAN (DD-853), where I was CIC Officer and got plenty of chances to conn alongside replenishment ships. On the BUCHANAN, all of my UNREP was done from Main Control, which is a very different perspective. Of course the guys on the bridge of BUCHANAN did it the same way as we did it on the bridge of the ROAN,which is the only way to do it.

First we would sit back behind the oiler and whatever ships she had alongside, in lifeguard station 2000 yards astern, steaming at 12 knots to match the oiler’s speed. Lifeguard station was important because every now and then someone on the working ships would fall over theside and have to be picked up. UNREP was a pretty dangerous evolution, even for those who managed to avoid falling overboard.

There was also a waiting station 1000 yards ahead of the lifeguard, hence 1000 yards astern of the oiler. This was the next ship that would go alongside. When the ship in waiting station moved up alongside the oiler, the lifeguard would move up to waiting station and would be relieved by another ship assigned to lifeguard duties.

There was a flaghoist routine that told us when the oiler was ready for the ship in waiting station to make her approach alongside - the flag was Romeo (for Replenishment). It was something like this: Romeo at the dip on the UNREP ship meant ‘stand by to come alongside!’ and closed up meant ‘begin your approach!’ We acknowledged each of those signals by repeating them on our own hoists.

We would begin our approach by increasing speed to 18 knots and moving over just a little to starboard of the oiler’s wake. Destroyers always went alongside to starboard - larger ships went alongside to port of the oiler. With experience, conning officers would learn a benchmark for telling them when to cut their speed to 12 knots. It depended on the approach speed and the rate at which our own ship would slow from the approach speed to the UNREP speed. The ROAN, a lighter vessel with a 600-psi propulsion plant, would change speed much faster than BUCHANAN, a heavier ship with a 1200-psi plant. For example, I knew on ROAN that when our forward gun mount came even with the oiler’s fantail and we were approaching at 18 knots, I would at that point give the lee helm the order to slow to 12 knots. We would then usually steady out at 12 knots right when our bridge and the oiler’s bridge were abeam of each other. If we overshot or fell short of where we should have been alongside the oiler, it was only because those *%#! snipes screwed up again. Of course, my song was much different when I later became a snipe, at which time the blame for overshooting or falling short shifted to those *%#! up on the bridge, who had no idea what the hell they were doing.

It was a ship handling challenge to make the approach, because the closer you brought your destroyer to the oiler, the less distance there was for the crew on deck to pull those massive hoses. However, if you got too close (say less than 50 feet), there was this fluid dynamics phenomenon called ‘Bernoulli’s Effect’ that basically sucked the ships together. We’ll pass on the details of Bernoulli, but you had to keep it in mind and could definitely feel the effect if you got in too close. I always liked to try to come in at about 60 to 80 feet from the oiler. We had distance flags to tell us the exact distance, but after a few times you could pretty well estimate the distance even without the markers. After the hoses were passed and the heavy lifting and pulling evolutions were finished for a while, you could move out to the safer distance of 100 to 120 feet while the oiler pumped away.

From the very minute a destroyer came alongside, she had to keep station on the oiler. The oiler would order a course and speed to the helmsman and to the engineroom, and they would just hold that the whole time. If stationkeeping discrepancies arose, it was up to the destroyer to make the required adjustments. If we were getting too close, we would steer a couple of degrees to the right of the UNREP course (remember the oiler was on our port side), and if we drifted out too far, we would come left a little. How much depended on the helmsman and how good he was.

I remember on ROAN with Predovich at the helm, you could count on him to steer within one degree of the ordered course. But most helmsmen couldn’t do that, so telling the helm to come right one degree would be useless if somebody other than Predovich was at the helm. In those cases, a two-degree heading change was the only choice. Predovich was the only helmsman I ever knew who could actually come right or left one degree.

To keep our fore-and-aft position, we had to increase or decrease speed ever so slightly, which we did by adding or subtracting revolutions per minute (or turns, for short) on the propeller shafts. There was a messenger with a hand-held slate and a grease pencil on the port wing who wrote down the ordered course and ordered number of turns for the shafts in case the OOD forgot what his latest orders were. With the current trends being what they are, the messenger, slate, and grease pencil are probably soon to be replaced by a computer readout of the course and RPMs. Of course, the high-tech computer readout will probably be crapped out half the time, in which case they’ll have to get the low-tech messenger with his slate and grease pencil back out onto the wing.

Like with the helmsman and his course, it was generally futile to add or subtract one shaft turn at a time, so usually I moved up or down in two-turn increments and waited patiently to see if an adjustment was large enough to make the required correction. You had to remember that the correction wouldn’t take effect instantaneously, and you had to know how long to wait before increasing the correction because it wasn’t doing what you needed. If you didn’t understand the time lag, you could really over-correct in a big way.

When it was time to disconnect the hoses and send them back to the oiler, we would again move in closer to the oiler to expedite passing the hoses back. Then when all lines were clear, we would increase speed to 25 knots, steer a little to the right of the UNREP course, and move out smartly while engulfing the oiler’s bridge in heavy black smoke as sort of a thank-you and farewell gesture. It was a lot of fun.