War Stories

by Howard Lightwine BTC 70-73

    We were steaming off the cost of North Vietnam on 17 April 1972 - it was the day of the mining of Hai Phong Harbor.

    At 0600 word came down to light fires in 1B and 2B boilers. I was in chargeof the forward fire room. At 0605, we lit fires in 1B boiler, and at 0700 we opened the main and auxiliary. We put 1B1 and 1B2 forced draft blowers on the line and also put on one more feed pump and feed booster pump.

    At 0730 General Quarters was sounded, and at 0800 we started our firing run on the north part of Hai Phong Harbor. We were at G.Q. for a while, and then word came over the 1MC that BUCHANAN had been hit. The bridge called for EMERGENCY flank ahead and the forward engine room started drawing my steam
and every thing went to max.

    There was a loud noise like a steam line had ruptured. I just knew we were all going to die. I asked the upper level man if he knew what it was - he said no. It was my watch so I got a broom with a wooden handle on it and started at the back of 1B boiler with the broom out in front of me.

    When I got to the drains off 1B1 forced draft blower, I ran the broom handle under them and it cut the end of the handle off. I know what was wrong, so I called Main Control and told them I was going to take 1B1 forced draft blower in hand and slow it down so we could close the drain valve. Then everything returned to normal in the forward fire room.

    But SN Leonard Ray Davis lost his life that day from a direct hit on the
main deck by gunfire from the shore.

Sea Dragon

by Michael Heffernan 67-69

    In May of 1968 we were sent in to destroy a "WBLIC" repair facility in North Vietnam. "WBLIC" stood for Water Borne Logistic Craft (barges mostly) that carried supplies south and where power by Tug's.

    Before going in toward the target, They split the lookout crew in half. One half was put in the barbet below the Mk 68 Gun Fire Control Director. This was a precautionary measure, and this was the only mission they ever did that, so don't tell me that we did not expect counter battery. The officers knew what was coming.

    The layout in front of us was a coastal plain to the left with distant hills. Sand dunes at the edge of the coastal plain where it met the water. Just to the south of our position, was the entrance to a river which went north behind the sand dunes. North of us was a peninsula with a high hill on it. I can only assume that the river opened up into a basin where the repair facility was, behind the hills on that peninsula. We were told that we were going to use Super-Elevation mode to lob the shells up and over the hill to hit the boat yard.

    I was the port TDT operator (on the side towards the beach). I could see everything that was going on and was involved in a lot of it. As we went in at about a 45 degree angle to the sandy plains on the left, the MK68 GFC director was given a reference point to keep on. This point was further out on the shore of the peninsula ahead of us. By referencing the range and bearing from the reference point to us, we knew where we were, Exactly to the foot. And since the target area was fixed in reference to the reference point, the fire control solution could be made.

    I believe MT51 fired 3 or 4 rounds in shore bombardment mode using super-elevation mode, not sure and really wasn't paying much attention to it. What I was paying attention to was a shack located 2/3 of the way up the hillside. After just finishing some of the most intense school (32 weeks "A" school, 26 weeks "C" school). for radar and electromagnetic stuff like antennas and wave guide, I recognized this shack had a lot of antennas on it. My guess was a spotter shack. The only question was what was he spotting for, just an air raid warning, or gun fire control? I got Weapons Control on the circuit and reported my findings about the shacks presence and the communications antennas brisling from it. Weapons Control (Lt. Feodor?) told me to assign MT 51, I flipped the switch on the MK79 Control Unit which connected MT51 to my TDT. Weapons Control asked if they saw the target and they respond positively. They were instructed to go into local and take the shack under fire. As this occurred, the ship turned about 45 degrees to put us parallel with the beach, head towards the land mass ahead of us at about 5 knots. This allowed MT52 to come around and fire toward the boat yard. I don't believe she got any rounds off that I can remember, before MT51 started firing.

    I was at my binoculars watching the fall of shot around the shack, never saw it get hit. About the time the 3rd or 4th round hit around the shack, all hell must have broken loose. I heard someone say counter-battery and took my eyes away from the TDT. Then I saw a splash off the Starboard bow (between us and open water). Then the mast above me was hit, and the shrapnel of the 3" projectile and the antenna came raining down on us. You could see the pieces bouncing off your helmet and flack jacket. About that time one of the lookouts broke out of MK68 Director barbet and got a cut across the palm of his hand from debris from the an/sps37 radar antenna (later the Doctor came up and said it was not "serious" enough to report for a Purple Heart). About that time I got back on the TDT, swung it around toward the beach and started looking for the counter-battery flashes. At the same time the ship kicked it in the ass and turned away from the land to head out to open sea. The ship was zig-zagging allot. as we went out I heard people yelling my name and looked up from my binoculars. Everyone but me had taken cover behind the director barbet at the urging of ENS. Lund (I think that was his name). When I realized I was the only one standing out in the open and I was being ordered to take cover, I started to move towards them. Never took my phones off, and when the cord snapped at me when I reached the end of it's length, it also snapped me back to reality. The drill for counter-battery was not to hide behind the barbet, but to find the flashes and kill the counter-battery. I called for FTM3 Stone to re-man his TDT and look on his side for the flashes, With the two of us on station, the Lookouts re-manned there station and they found the counter-battery. It was found by the Starboard side, not my side. MT52, where Cage was the mount captain (called him that because he was from Louisiana), started firing in local at rapid continuous. He didn't stop firing until the shells were falling in the water off the beach as we had run out of gun range of the target.

    As for FTM3/2 Ken George's report of TDT operator yelling about the guns shooting at us, that had to be Stone on the Starboard side, We were on different phone circuits and I never saw a flash. As the ship turned out to sea and did it's Zigzag routine, the superstructure was between me and the guns, I never saw them.

Drawing Enemy Fire

by Mike Fox 67-68

    Sometime after the start of '68, we teamed up with an Aussie DDG just like the BUCHANAN, the HMS HOBART. The Australians purchased it from the same shipyard that had built the BUCHANAN. The Aussies were lots and lots of fun and could be very tough both at Subic and fighting the gooks. You wanted them on your side at all times. They always intended to WIN no matter WHAT IT TOOK! The two DDGs teamed up and headed to the north. This is something that nobody was supposed to know.

    Our game was this, one of the two DDGs would pull into a cove and fire 30-40 rounds from the 5"54s, you would go in and the forward mount would fire 15 or so rounds, turn and follow up with the aft mount. As the ship was turning it would go as fast as possible to keep from getting return fire. One DDG would stay out a few hundred yards and protect the other from return fire. We did this several times, it was always exciting to do, whether you were the ship in the cove or the one protecting. Looking back, I think that we were trying to get Charlie to respond.

    This one dark night it was decided that both DDGs would go in and do a prolonged firing. This time we were to stay in this cove, slow to a couple of knots, and fire and fire at some gook targets that were given to us.
After going to Battle Stations about 0300, oh, I forgot to tell you we had all four boilers lit off each time we did this. I was a pumpman and when we had 1A & 1B boilers going, we had three pumpmen, one watching the water level and the other two checking the booster pumps and having 1C main feed pump rolling over just to make sure we did not drop the load. God, could you imagine that happening?

    We are in this cove for well over an hour, just floating and firing few rounds, then waiting for a different target. All of a sudden, a very loud BANG, silence for a couple of seconds or so, and then another BANG. The ship vibrates and shakes. As the pumpman watching the water level, I yell down to the top watch, "What the hell is that?" More BANGS and the answer from down below, "You dumb ass, we are being shot at!"

"Check for Damage"! This is all happening in milliseconds, the BELL rings up "ALL AHEAD FLANK"! WE RESPOND TO THE BELL! Burners come up, blowers go wild, wide open go the main pumps, someone brings up 1 Charlie main feed pump, (The most dependable of the three, 1A you had to keep an eye out for - it liked to kick out, just when you need the SOB), just in case, up comes the steam, and "Hard to Port." The water level is damned hard to find in the glass, we are turning so hard. Forward Fireroom is hoping that Forward Engineroom throttleman is not going to pull too much, to pull us off the line. We stay a bit ahead of the throttleman - that is way it is supposed to be.

    As we are turning the aft mount goes wild firing 5 "inchers" as fast as it will fire. Somebody said 30+ rounds a minute, the aft mount continues to fire and fire even after being told to CEASE FIRING. The Fire Control
Officer calls down to the aft mount wanting to know what the hell is going on. It is found out later that some third class gunner has PANICKED and they had to pry him off the firing pedal to stop the gun. I sure hope he scared "Charlie." We do not know it at the time but the Aussies are like us running for open water at FLANK speed. They are firing too. This just scared the hell out of the both crews. But we went back at this several times.

    After getting back to sea, checking damage, we had to go to Subic for two weeks of repair. The gooks had used two or three portable artillery guns on us but we were just a bit to far away for them to damage the hull. But between the Aussie and BUCHANAN, they had damaged our radar, mast and all of the electronics up on the mast to the tune of $90,000+.

    Spending two weeks in Subic was hell after the first week. You were running out of money, fights, and those SOBs from that bar where we had the trouble with the bass drummer, remembered us. So, when the time came to back plane guarding, no one bitched.

I Remember Sea Dragon Patrols

by Edward Shaw Des Div 12 Staff 1968

A few times during my life do I recall knowing fear. To be sure, I have dreaded walking home from school
only to meet up with the class bully on occasion. And, I have whispered a quick phrase or two from
Psalms as my car twirled in circles down the highway after hitting an icy strip.  These things, however,
never compared with the apprehension and stark attention that seized me during some of our operations off
North Vietnam.  I recall one night in the Battle for Hue. We lobbed in hundreds of 5-inch HP overnight.
The western sky was aglow with star shell and streamers. We used to attack a bridge across the Song Giaghang
River nearly daily. We'd blow hell out of it one afternoon, but they would repair it overnight with planks across floating oil drums, and then wheel supplies on bicycles balanced by two men across the bridge. We blow hell out of it again.  At night, on the signal bridge, we could see through the IR glasses the heat glow of hidden fires.

Once we formed a line of battle, approaching at high speed at an angle to the shore, firing all mounts, and close-in about 1800 yards, we'd parallel the shore a few seconds then head out at an angle, always continuing the rapid fire of all mounts.  The rounds and rockets they returned sounded like whooshes, zips, and roars of freight trains.

As a staff member, I often had no GQ station, other than my micro-cube of an office where I was to destroy vital documents in case of the ship being seriously damaged. But, I just HAD to see the war!  I HAD to have some kind of story to tell my kids ... in answer to 'what did you do in the war, daddy?'  From my office, which had a porthole in it, and during one such fierce attack, I un-dogged the porthole plate and lifted it up to peer out
at the action.  I could see smoke on the shore. I could hear explosions outside as rounds popped overhead.
I looked as far aft as I could, and saw splashes .. plup ... plup ... plup ... walking up the wake of our ship. I heard and felt one explosion that suddenly changed my desire to look out that porthole.  Clank! .. went the shut cover plate.  It was time for me to get under my desk kneehole!  And ... those familiar lines from Psalms came back to me.

We got hit in the A-frame that day. We lost a radar. The metal shrapnel peppered down all over the weather decks. I saw some crew going all over the place sweeping it up. Looking for shell fragments I suppose, for examining and determining what kind and where it came from.  Then I recalled how often ships traded brass while in port to Hong Kong Mary in return for various ship's services. 

During my tours of Sea Dragon patrols, I learned whole chapters of Psalms and Proverbs.  I kept a diary in one
of those little green government memo pocket books, but I wouldn't part with it for love or money.

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