The vessel was ordered after the New Zealand government, facing a requirement for more minesweepers to operate in home waters, chose the Castle-class design because it was simple enough to be built with the country’s limited ship construction facilities at the time.[1]
Hautapu was the third of the nine minesweepers constructed for the Royal New Zealand Navy (RNZN) and was commissioned on 26 June 1943. the others being Aroha, Awatere, Maimai, Pahau, Waiho, Waima, Waipu, and Waikato (never commissioned). She served with the 96th Auxiliary Minesweeping Group, located at Lyttleton.[2] In 1945 Hautapu was assigned to the Canterbury project to improve radar and meteorological observations but was not actively involved until 1946.[3][4] In 1947, Hautapu was involved in the 1947 Royal New Zealand Navy mutinies, with a party of sailors giving a note to the captain stating that they were dissatisfied with the handling of lower-deck committees and that that they would not work until their issues were resolved. Eleven sailors subsequently left the ship, but one later changed his mind and returned.[5] Despite this, Hautapu still continued to Lyttleton, without the crew.
Later in 1947, Hautapu was put up for sale and sold to New Zealand Fisheries Ltd. (which was located in Wellington) to serve as a fishing trawler. In 1963, Hautapu was laid up, due to high operating costs, and poor results with fishing,[6] later being put back into service.
Hautapu shortly after she ran aground.
On 4 November 1963, Hautapu struck an unidentified object and was run aground off the Marlborough east coast, damaging the rudder, and was pulled towards the beach despite her being in full astern.[7] All eight crew members onboard survived. Following this there were attempts to salvage the Hautapu, but none would succeed. Hautapu was eventually salvaged on 29 April 1964, and was towed to Wellington. Once salvaged it was found vandals had stripped the vessel of most of her gear.[8] When Hautapu reached Wellington, she would be taken on to a slipway for inspection, to determine the fate of the ship. After the inspection she was declared a total loss as it was found the waves had damaged her structurally, with repair being considered futile.[4] As they owned the trawler Taiaroa (formerly HMNZS Waikato) New Zealand fisheries decided to keep Hautapu for spare parts for Taiaroa.[4] After two years Hautapu was offered to the Royal New Zealand Air Force (RNZAF) to be sunk, which they accepted.[4] She was to be towed by HMNZS Inverell, and attacked by de Havilland Vampire and English Electric Canberra jets.[9] Plans of sinking her were postponed after the MV Kaitawa sank with all hands lost, with the Inverell being sent to locate her wreck.[4] However, on 2 June 1966, Hautapu sank at Shelly Bay after a stern charge was detonated, which was placed there in case the RNZAF could not sink the Hautapu.[10] After the sinking, there was a legal dispute on who owned the wreck, with the RNZAF claiming that the New Zealand Fisheries Ltd still owned the wreck, and the New Zealand Fisheries Ltd claiming the RNZAF owned the wreck, resulting in a six-year legal battle.[11][10] In July 1972, after another gathering of officials, the Secretary of Defence would assist in removing the wreck of Hautapu, while denying ownership of her.[10] She was cut up in 1972–1973 by divers of the Royal New Zealand Navy, with the floating crane Hikitia raising the sections ashore to be scrapped
“The new policy is based on extensive work to understand what our people not only need but would like,” he explained.
“It will cover four elements: improving the quality of the food itself and when it is available, providing wider selection, rolling out technology-enabled purchasing and collection, and improving dining facilities to provide a social hub throughout the day.
“New menus are being developed and I hope to announce details to service personnel in the next few weeks – including detail on menus and cost – this will be good news.”
The changes are a response to recommendations made in the Haythornthwaite review, which examined service personnel’s terms and conditions.
Vice Admiral Hally said that the changes would not be immediate, but would be introduced to improve the “quality, choice and value of the food itself”.
He added: “I aim to share the detail in advance of rollout, giving people notice of these positive changes which will represent an investment in our people.”
Two Archer mobile howitzers fire 155mm rounds during the training exercise in Sweden (Picture: MOD)
British soldiers have been getting hands-on with their new Archer mobile howitzer – firing the weapon for the first time on a snowy training area in Swedish Lapland.
The Swedish-designed Archer is based on the Bofors FH77 field howitzer, consisting of an automated 155mm 52-calibre gun mounted on a 6×6 articulated hauler and a separate fire control cabin.
It was a case of the weapon going back to its roots as the members of the Royal Artillery fired the gun on a range near Boden in the north of the country, Sweden’s biggest garrison town.
In order to improve survivability, combat units must be able to cooperate effectively, and the Archer represents the next generation of wheeled artillery systems being built to keep up with fast-moving ground forces.
In keeping with tracked self-propelled artillery systems like the AS90, the Archer is designed to “shoot and scoot”.
This means the crew can open fire on a target then quickly move to a new location before being hit by counter-battery fire or enemy ground attack aircraft.
The Archer fires a 155mm round during a training exercise for the British Army in Sweden (Picture: MOD)The Archer getting ready to fire a round (Picture: MOD)The Archer moving to a firing position (Picture: MOD)The British Archer Team being assessed on loading ammunition ready for the next fire mission in Sweden (Picture: MOD)The Archer Mobile Howitzer in Swedish Lapland training British Army soldiers (Picture: MOD)Soldiers from the British Army’s Royal School of Artillery learn how to operate the Archer (Picture: MOD)
The Army says the Archer can engage a target and then disengage in less than 20 seconds, minimising its chances of being located by the enemy and increasing its survivability.
The weapons system has a crew of up to four, is fully automated and has a firing range in excess of 50km.
Loading, laying and firing is handled from inside an armoured cabin, offering good protection as the crew are kept separate from the ammunition.
The 155mm gun has a rate of fire of 12 rounds every three minutes when used intensively, and can be supplemented by a remote-controlled grenade launcher or heavy machine gun for close-in defence.
Its 6×6 drive train can propel the vehicle up to 70km/h and it has a maximum range of 650km.
The Royal Artillery has taken control of several Archer units already, having handed a number of its tracked AS90s to Ukraine.
Ukrainian forces are also operating the Archer, these guns having been supplied by Sweden.
Every year on 6 February, New Zealanders and visitors gather at Waitangi to mark the 1840 signing of Aotearoa New Zealand’s founding document – Te Tiriti o Waitangi / The Treaty of Waitangi.
The Royal New Zealand Navy (RNZN) is invited annually by the people of Te Tai Tokerau to attend Waitangi Day and perform a range of ceremonial duties.
Representing the RNZN this year will be Chief of Navy Rear Admiral David Proctor and Deputy Chief of Navy Commodore Andrew Brown, along with a large number of Navy personnel.
“Attending Waitangi Day is the ceremonial highlight of the year for our Navy and always an absolute privilege to be part of,” Rear Admiral Proctor said.
“Our relationship with the people of Te Tai Tokerau is long-standing and built on mutual trust and respect.
“This day is a taonga for our nation and we’re grateful we can once again share it with the people of this region, other Kiwis and visitors alike.”
This year the RNZN’s dive, hydrographic and salvage vessel HMNZS Manawanui will be anchored off Waitangi from Sunday 4 February to Tuesday 6 February.
On Monday 5 February, the ship will be taking to sea 20 senior secondary students from high schools throughout Te Tai Tokerau, giving them an idea of what a career in the Navy could look like.
RNZN involvement in the annual commemorations will include the RNZN Band performing at the Village Green in Paihia on Sunday 4 February, with a Beat Retreat and Ceremonial Sunset Ceremony at the Treaty Ground flagpole on the evening of Monday 5 February.
A 100-person Royal Guard of Honour will conduct the ceremonial lowering of the New Zealand White Ensign, signifying the end of the day. This will be reviewed by Her Excellency the Right Honourable Dame Cindy Kiro, GNZM, QSO, Governor-General of New Zealand.
At midday on Waitangi Day, Tuesday 6 February, HMNZS Manawanui will fire a 21-gun salute to observe the 184th Anniversary of the signing of Te Tiriti o Waitangi. The New Zealand Defence Force Māori Cultural Group will also give a series of performances on the Treaty Grounds.
From the outset, Waitangi Day commemorations have included naval involvement. It was Lieutenant-Governor of New Zealand Captain William Hobson, Royal Navy, who, along with Māori rangatira (chiefs), signed Te Tiriti on 6 February 1840 as an agreement between the British Crown and Māori.
Aside from the years interrupted by war, pandemic and weather events, the New Zealand Division of the Royal Navy – and from 1941 the RNZN – have paraded at the Waitangi Treaty Grounds.
In 1990, the RNZN was presented with a Charter recognising the strength of the relationship between the RNZN and the community in the region. The charter allows the RNZN to parade on Te Tai Tokerau land and on the Waitangi Treaty Grounds.
The first Badger (DD-126) was named for Commodore Oscar C. Badger (a cousin of Secretary of the Navy George Edmund Badger), the father of Rear Admiral Charles J. Badger, the son of the commodore and the father of the admiral, was also honored by the naming of the destroyer Charles J. Badger (DD-657) (q.v.), and the grandfather of Admiral Oscar C. Badger. This Badger (FF-1071) honors all four men.
From left to right, Arleigh Burke-class guided-missile destroyer USS Daniel K. Inouye (DDG-118), Nimitz-class aircraft carrier USS Carl Vinson (CVN-70), Hyuga-class helicopter destroyer JS Ise (DDH-182) and Nimitz-class aircraft carrier USS Theodore Roosevelt (CVN-71) sail in formation during Multi-Large Deck Event (MLDE), Jan. 31, 2024. US Navy Photo
Two American aircraft carrier strike groups are drilling with a Japanese big-deck warship in the Philippine Sea, the services announced.
Carriers USS Carl Vinson (CVN-70) and USS Theodore Roosevelt (CVN-71) drilled with Japanese Maritime Self-Defense Force helicopter destroyer JS Ise (DDH-182) in the Philippine Sea in a multi-day event. A JMSDF release stated that the drills began on Monday and will conclude on Thursday.
“The purpose of this training is to improve the tactical skill and interoperability with the U.S. Navy,” Rear Adm. Hitoshi Shimuzu, commander of Escort Flotilla 2, said in a JMSDF release. “Our relationship is committed to regional peace and stability.”
The exercise included, “air defense drills, sea surveillance, cross-deck exercises and tactical maneuvers to advance unique high-end warfighting capability,” reads the statement from U.S. 7th Fleet.
Vinson is embarked with Carrier Air Wing (CVW) 2, cruiser USS Princeton (CG-59) and destroyers USS Sterett (DDG-104), USS Dewey (DDG-105), USS Rafael Peralta (DDG-115) and USS John Finn (DDG-113) of Destroyer Squadron 1. Theodore Roosevelt is embarked with CVW 11, cruiser USS Lake Erie (CG-70) and destroyers USS William P. Lawrence (DDG-110), USS Daniel K. Inouye (DDG 118) and USS Halsey (DDG-97) of DESRON 23.
Vinson deployed from San Diego on Oct.12 with Princeton and DESRON 1 destroyers USS Hopper (DDG-70), USS Kidd (DDG-100), USS Sterett (DDG-104) and William P. Lawrence (DDG-110), according to the USNI News Fleet and Marine Tracker. Imagery released by the Pentagon show Kidd in the Philippine Sea as of Jan. 21 and Hopper in the South China Sea as of Jan. 16, while William P. Lawrence has been assigned to the Theodore Roosevelt CSG. Dewey, Rafael Peralta and John Finn are part of the U.S. forward-deployed Japan DESRON 15 based in Japan. Theodore Roosevelt deployed from San Diego on Jan. 12 with Lake Erie and DESRON 23 destroyers USS John S. McCain (DDG-56), Daniel K. Inouye and Hasley.
The Navy release said that the last exercise of its kind took place in November in the Philippine Sea with the Carl Vinson and Ronald Reagan strike groups.
From left to right, Nimitz-class aircraft carrier USS Carl Vinson (CVN-70), Arleigh Burke-class guided-missile destroyer USS Sterett (DDG-104), Ticonderoga-class guided-missile cruiser USS Princeton (CG-59), Hyuga-class helicopter destroyer JS Ise (DDH-182), Arleigh Burke-class guided-missile destroyer USS Rafael Peralta (DDG-115), Arleigh Burke-class guided-missile destroyer USS Daniel K. Inouye (DDG-118), Nimitz-class aircraft carrier USS Theodore Roosevelt (CVN-71) along with aircraft assigned to Carrier Air Wing Two sail and fly in formation during Multi-Large Deck Event (MLDE), Jan. 31, 2024. US Navy Photo
“The U.S. and Japan are uniquely capable of rapidly assembling multiple large-deck naval forces in support of mutual security interests in the Indo Pacific,” Rear Adm. Carlos Sardiello, commander, of CSG-1 said in a statement. “Our ability to rapidly aggregate and work collectively alongside the JMSDF and the Theodore Roosevelt strike group is positive proof. Events like these are not new. The Vinson strike group has conducted similar operations since 2001, and most recently in November 2023 along with the Ronald Reagan CSG and the JMSDF in the Philippine Sea.”
The Navy and JMSDF are expected to conduct further large deck exercises this year that will incorporate multi-national participation. Both Italy and France are deploying carrier strike groups to the Indo-Pacific this year. Italy will deploy carrier ITS Cavour (550), which operates F-35B fighters in its embarked air wing with a multinational force of escorts, and France will deploy carrier FS Charles De Gaulle (R91), which operates Rafale M fighters in its air wing, along with an escort and support group.
The JMSDF has previously said the service intends to strengthen cooperation with the Italian Navy, particularly in regard to F-35B operations. Japan has been keen on learning from the carrier operations experiences of European F-35B operators Italy and the United Kingdom along with the United States, as it prepares for its own operations with the F-35Bs. A delegation of JMSDF and Japan Air Self-Defense Force officers observed trials on U.K. carrier HMS Prince of Wales (RO9) off the U.S. East Coast in November, with Japan planning to send an Izumo-class destroyer carrier later this year.
The JMSDF ship that will head to the U.S. will likely be JS Kaga (DDH-184), which is in the midst of wrapping up sea trials following the first phase of the ship’s conversion to operate F-35Bs. That modification includes structural conversion of the bow flight deck portion of the ship from a trapezoid shape to a square shape.
Sister ship JS Izumo (DDH-183) is scheduled to go into the dock later this year for similar work, with both ships also slated to undergo a second and final conversion, which Japan hopes to finish by Fiscal Year 2027. The JMSDF does not have a naval aviation fighter component and Japan’s F-35Bs will be operated by a JASDF squadron. Japan plans to receive six F-35Bs in FY 2024 from a total order of 42 aircraft and will establish a provisional F35B squadron the same fiscal year. It’s unclear how Lockheed Martin’s announcement of delivering a lower number of F-35s this year due to delays in the Technology Refresh 3 software upgrade will affect Japanese deliveries.
Cargo is delivered to the expeditionary mobile base USS Lewis B. Puller (T-ESB 3) during a vertical replenishment in the U.S. 5th Fleet area of operations in the Arabian Sea, January 13, 2018. U.S. Navy Photo
Houthi officials claim to have launched a missile attack targeting the U.S. Navy’s afloat expeditionary sea base, USS Lewis B. Puller (ESB 3). However, U.S. officials have not yet confirmed the alleged incident.
The Houthis did not clarify whether the vessel was hit. It’s important to note that the group has made false claims about attacks in the past, including a similar claim of a missile attack on the US-flagged Ocean Jazz which the U.S. denied as “patently false.”
Deputy Pentagon Press Secretary Sabrina Singh could not confirm the alleged incident during a Monday afternoon press briefing. “I don’t have anything for you at this time,” she said in response to question about it from USNI News. U.S. officials have anonymously rejected the claim, according to media reports.
The USS Lewis B. Puller was delivered to the Navy in 2015 and was initially operated by the Military Sealift Command, the U.S. Navy’s civilian-manned sealift and ocean transport arm. The vessel was redesignated as a commissioned warship in 2017.
Measuring 784 feet, the USS Lewis B. Puller is designed to support air mine countermeasures and special warfare missions. It can also undertake additional missions, including counter-piracy, maritime security, as well as humanitarian and disaster relief.
In 2022, the USS Lewis B. Puller was harassed by Iranian Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps Navy (IRGCN) patrol boats in the Strait of Hormuz just days after it was involved in a massive seizure of illegal weapons in the Gulf of Oman, which were being transported by Iran to the Houthis in Yemen.
Watch: 2nd battalion the Royal Anglian Regiment prepares for its involvement in Nato’s Exercise Steadfast Defender
A massive convoy of Foxhounds, Jackals and Land Rovers has surprised villagers in the East Midlands.
The troops from 2nd Battalion the Royal Anglian Regiment were practising their immediate response to a Nato Very High Readiness Joint Task Force call-out.
The 500 soldiers and their 162 vehicles are preparing to take part in Exercise Steadfast Defender, Nato’s largest exercise since the Cold War.
The light mechanised infantry battalion, known as “the Poachers”, operated under the spearhead force Nato’s Very High Readiness Joint Task Force.
The soldiers will begin with Exercise Polish Dragon – one of the 11 exercises that are taking place in Poland.
Ex Steadfast Defender is due to start in February and will travel through the entire Trans-Atlantic region.
It’s a show of force, strength and unity of Nato allies following Russia’s illegal invasion of Ukraine.
Watch: 20,000 British soldiers, sailors and aviators to deploy by land, sea and air across Europe to participate in a huge Nato exercise later this year.
USS Sculpin (SS-191) underway off Portsmouth, New Hampshire in September 1939.
This is an abbreviated story of World War II submarine operations on board the USS Sculpin (SS-191) in the western Pacific and Asiatic Basin between 1941–42. In December 1941, the only U.S. presence there were the 29 submarines and three submarine tenders with no supply line to speak of, weapons and equipment problems, and a need for new tactics. Parallels with the current situation between China and the United States and the submarine realities in 1939–41 are unearthed through the diary of Lieutenant Charles M. Henderson, a 1934 U.S. Naval Academy graduate and theSculpin’s executive officer/navigator for six patrols over the first 13 months of the war. During those patrols and the Japanese advances, theSculpinhad to gravitate south to Borneo, Java, and Australia for upkeeps, supplies, and rest and then went on 45 to 55–day patrols near Indonesia, the South Chine Sea, and east to New Britain and the Solomon Islands.
Lieutenant “Charlie” Henderson survived two U.S. submarine losses, six near misses, and a later Kamikaze attack.
Highlights from the Sculpin
Table 1. Sculpin highlights and patrol areas.
Diary Excerpts
October 1941: “ . . . we left Pearl Harbor October 23rd after two of the most hectic and confused days of my life. Such a short time in which to arrange everything and my bride and I so bewildered we didn’t know what we were doing. I guess we knew all along that there would be a war . . . “
At Manila: “Kurusu arrived in Washington. We hang on every news broadcast. The situation becomes more tense. We wonder where our fleet is. What a pitifully inadequate little handful of Navy ships in the harbor.”
“The nonchalant attitude of people is most amazing.”
“Oh, there’s no strain out here.”
“The situation’s under control.”
“Suppose they do come—we’ll take ‘em.”
“We would like to see some cruisers and planes, but tactfully hold our tongues.”
“Sunday—Dec 7th. Returned to ship at 2:30 a.m. after a dinner party at [the Army and Navy] Club for ship’s officers [in Manilla]. At 0330 I was awakened with the fateful news “Japan has commenced hostilities. . . . We blacked out and the nest of ships quickly dispersed to anchor singly to minimize the danger from air attacks. Feverish preparations. Thank God we were all ready except a very few last-minute items. Wondered all day about the planes. Will they come? Will they come now? When? But they didn’t and we left at dusk in convoy out through the minefields. Air raid at Corregidor while going out. Searchlights everywhere in the air but none in the water. We collided with one of the buoys marking the edge of the minefield. It is dark as pitch. Clear finally. Left the convoy at dawn. This begins our first patrol. And I personally breathe a prayer for our country, our ship, and for the whole world, and for my bride not to worry.”
Lieutenant Henderson’s diary. Courtesy of the author.
Key Patrol 1–4 Comments
“I haven’t been able to fix the ship’s position in four days. The sounding machine breaks down. What wild navigation! By guess and by God—truly. We make landfall 60 miles from where we think we are. But can you wonder? No navigational lights—nothing to go by. We almost ran aground. Ah well, if we run aground, we run aground—no sense getting gray over that!
A dispatch from Chief of Naval Operations to the Asiatic Fleet, commending us for our gallant and skillful conduct, but indicating that we are it—the thin red line of heroes as Kipling says. Damnit, where are the cruisers, where is the fleet? The Japs are landing. But those are silent thoughts.
We receive no press news—what’s going on in the world? All we know is a little bit we gleam from the nightly operation order and that concerns only the immediate theater of war.
Christmas Day. They do prepare a good dinner, considering what we have, which is all canned. I break open the medicinal whiskey and with powdered milk and our last eggs, we concoct a fair eggnog, breaking about 40 Navy Regulations in so doing.
January 8—Nothing at Ramon—enroute new station. Today I had my first bath since the war started.
January 17—At Balikpapan, Borneo—came charging in at sunset for fuel. Leaving before dawn. Had our first news of the war today. Amazed at developments. Air raids here daily. Dutch standing by to blow up refinery. Got 100 pounds of sugar and a case of milk which we have been without for days now.
People here expect to have to fall back to the jungle any day now. Farrakhan burned to the ground a few days ago.
The [commandant] jokes “A hell of a war, too damn hot to fight down in this part of the world.” He seriously expects the Japs to collapse within five months.
Second Patrol—East of Celebes and Molucca Sea
February 5—Yesterday they bombed Surabaya. We left there only five days ago. Pearl Harbor, five weeks ago, Manila – one day later, Subic Bay eight days later, Balikpapan . . . they captured the place three days after we fueled there (the Dutch had to blow up that immense refinery); and now Surabaya. Guess we are lucky to have missed it all. But this undersea work is not easy either. . . .
Our time in Surabaya was a strange combination of hurried, tense confusion, and wild, utter abandon and relief of a sort, from the trials of life at sea. . . . The Dutch mechanics and about 200 others were literally swarming over the ship. They did about a month’s work in 6 days—but everything was too hurried—inches to centimeters and back again, they were not familiar with our machinery, and we were not able to supervise everything. But they were wonderful and did their best. . . . We had no opportunity to test the machinery and made our first dive with some misgivings. Nearly everything worked, and she still floats and dives O.K.
At the end of the patrol, Lieutenant Henderson learned his previous sub, the Shark, had gone down and was presumed missing.
The first page of Lieutenant Henderson’s diary. Courtesy of the author.
Third and Fourth Patrols
The Sculpin relied on Australian ports of Perth and Brisbane for patrols 3 through 6 as Americans had been pushed out of all ports from China to Truk and south to Java and Celebes.
In March, the Sculpin’s skipper, then–Lieutenant Commander Louis Chappell, fired three torpedoes each at three freighters and all failed:
Chappell was angry. All these shots were easy setups. He decided there was definitely something wrong with the torpedoes and requested permission to leave station and return to Fremantle. He wrote, “If truth must be told, the Commanding Officer was so demoralized and disheartened from repeated misses he had little stomach for further action until an analysis could be made and a finger put on the deficiencies responsible and corrective action taken.”
A Depth Charging Example—One of Six
On the fourth depth charge, the stern diving rudder jams and we start up. Oh God! We can’t surface now—they’ll get us for sure if we do. “Hold her down Jack.” The up-angle increases—men work frantically to clear the rudder. There, they’ve got her. We catch her in time and down we go again.
The sound head is O.K. now. . . .
Now the ship is heavy for some reason. We have to speed up to hold her. She is sinking slowly—275, 280, 300—she settles there. [The hull is only tested to 265 feet].
We can’t pump water out, or blow water out, because they will hear us if we do. All the machinery on the ship had long since stopped, except the motors, to try to remain silent. No ventilation, not even a tiny electric fan. We are all dripping with perspiration.
We sink further—310, 320—finally we catch her at 345 feet.
The fully dressed USS Sculpin (SSN-590) is ready to launch at the Ingalls Shipbuilding Yard in Pascagoula, Mississippi on 31 March 1960. U.S. Naval Institute Photo Archive
Fifth Patrol—The Near Loss and Heroic Action
September 30—Two days ago we got the worst beating of the war to date. Attacked a big tanker protected by planes and a sub chaser. The Captain made a beautiful approach, and we got two, maybe three hits on him. He sank. But all hell broke loose as soon as we fired. Bombs literally rained down on us from the air. The sub chaser called in another patrol vessel and spotted us accurately—then let go right on top of us. Three deafening crashes—the whole ship shook and trembled. It jarred open valves, ruptured hull fittings, broke glass and nearly all the light bulbs. I couldn’t begin to itemize the damage. There were leaks in every compartment. The worst was in the forward battery, a steady stream of water pouring in at enormous pressure through a ruptured fitting. I went forward. When I saw it—water already several inches deep on deck—I said, “oh dear God, this is it I guess.” Then I forgot all about God and everything else in the world except stopping the leak and keeping the water out of the battery in the deck below.
Lieutenant Henderson abbreviated the details of this 1942 near disaster:
The leak was 1/4 inch in diameter. It was in the discharge pipe from the officer’s head located in a tiny cubicle at the corner of the officer’s bunking area above the forward battery compartment.
During some previous overhaul, this pipe had been drill-tested to ensure that the metal still met the rigid specifications for strength. And the test hole was mistakenly located outboard of the sea valve . . . had the test been made on the section of pipe inboard of this valve, the leak would not have occurred even if the faulty plug had not been replaced [emphasis added].
So, the water was gushing in . . . the sea pressure forced enormous amounts of water through that hole. Baldwin, the chief auxiliary man, immediately fashioned a wooden plug by sawing off the conical shaped end of a paint brush. We tried innumerable times to insert this plug into the hole against the pressure of the incoming water stream with no success.
The space between the pipe and the adjacent rigid steel bulkhead was only about two inches, barely enough room for a person’s hand to reach in.
While Baldwin was desperately working on the leak, I had improvised a dam around the hatch that opened to the battery compartment below. We used mattresses and bed linen from the bunks. This proved effective. The water ran down the deck from the head and flowed around the dam to the after end of the compartment, where it accumulated and at one point reached a depth of over a foot. We started a bucket brigade and transferred the water to the pump room bilges located underneath the control room.
The diving officer, had to keep a large “up” angle on the boat to maintain depth [he could not pump the water out–the noise from the pumps created a “bullseye for the Nips” sound detection instruments].
Lieutenant Commander Chappell . . . concentrated on the sonar reports and occasionally maneuvered to confuse the enemy and help escape. . . . He also noted that we were slowly sinking despite skilled efforts. The crew was quietly working to keep the submarine running, prevent her from sinking, and repair the extensive damage that had occurred in every compartment.
. . . The propellor noise and “wake” turbulence increased but only slightly . . . finally ship stabilized at 325 feet, 60 feet beyond test depth . . .
It became apparent that we needed a device to steady that plug in the stream of water and enable us to push the plug in and hold it in place. Suddenly a possible solution took shape. I said “Baldwin, drill a hole in the handle perpendicular to the axis and wire the plug to a crowbar . . .” He rushed to his workbench in the pump room, and returned within a couple of minutes with the crudely fashioned implement. We pushed the crowbar into the space between the pipe and the bulkhead, jiggled the crowbar in front of hole, got it centered and jammed it home. THE LEAK STOPPED IMMEDIATELY! . . .
The pinging became fainter, and sonar reported “All Clear” . . .
We are all thankful to be alive. I hope the damn tanker was loaded with aviation gas! For the first time since the war began this awful destruction horrified me no end. That is the ninth ship we have torpedoed. It makes me want to do something after the war is over, something grand and constructive and worthwhile—I’d like to build something: bridges, dams, something to make up for the horrible, awful destruction. And yet I know that what we are doing now is worthwhile if it makes men free again.
Under more than the usual amount of tension we finished the patrol without further damage. Upon return to base the repair crews did a first-class job of effecting a satisfactory repair to the leak.
Sixth Patrol and After
By this time, the submarine force supply chain and maintenance and repair capabilities had improved. See Table 2.
Table 2. Number of Pacific submarine tenders.
The Sculpin had an uneventful patrol off Truk then ended her sixth patrol in Pearl Harbor after traveling 55,000 nautical miles. Next came her first overhaul since the war’s start at San Francisco.
At the end of this patrol, Henderson departed the ship for a new command, the USS Bluefish (SSN-222), only to find Lieutenant Ted O’Connor, his bride Noreen’s brother, was reported missing aboard the USS Grampus (SS-207). Henderson escaped death by transferring from both the USS Shark (SS-174) and the Sculpin.
The Sculpin’s Last Battle
The Sculpin was attacked briefly on the ninth patrol in 1943, was depth-charged severely, had to surface and fight it out with a destroyer, then was scuttled to prevent ship capture. Commander John Cromwell, the wolf pack commander on board, decided to go down with the ship and was awarded the Medal of Honor; a Naval Submarine School Building in Groton, Connecticut, was named after him. The crew was captured, with half put on a transport and half on a Japanese carrier. The nearby USS Sailfish (SS-192) sunk the carrier not knowing Americans were on board; all but one died.1
In Closing
Miraculously, the submarine force powered up, building 232 more submarines, and sank the bulk of Japanese warships and shipping. But 52 U.S. submarines were lost, 25 (48 percent) in waters near Japan and China. Only about 15 percent were sunk in deep water well away from enemy ports.2 Questions remain about how many submarines the United States could build today, how many the Navy could afford to lose in a conflict, and where they would be deployed. The diaries of Lieutenant Henderson provide a window into how sailors navigated in perilous, sometimes uncharted waters, and the emerging submarine tactics in a time of war—lessons the Navy would do well to remember in the modern age.
1. See also Theodore Roscoe, United States Submarine Operations in World War Two (Annapolis, MD: U.S. Naval Institute Press, 1949); and Clay Blair Jr., Silent Victory: The U.S. Submarine War Against Japan (Philadelphia, PA: J. B. Lippincott Co., 1975).
2. Roscoe, United States Submarine Operations in World War Two.
3. The full text of Lieutenant Henderson’s diary was published in the Naval Submarine League’s The Submarine Review in 2022. His Bluefish depth charge evasion tactic can be found there.
Mitch Henderson
Mr. Henderson was an officer on board the highly decorated USS Dace (SSN-607), commanded by then-Commander Kinnaird McKee. He then spent 17 years as a submarine tactician and co-authored the Submarine Security and Submarine Reconnaissance Manuals.
She was in commission (in active service) from October 1980 through July 1998. Her primary missions were in defending aircraft carrier task forces in air defense (AAW) and antisubmarine warfare (ASW) by using her guided missiles, radar systems, and sonar systems. Since Arkansas had the high speed and unlimited range provided by her nuclear reactors, she usually escorted the nuclear-powered aircraft carriers of the U.S. Navy.[citation needed]
With her Harpoon anti-ship missiles, Tomahawk missiles, and two 5-inch (127 mm) naval guns, USS Arkansas was also capable of attacking enemy surface ships, carrying out shore bombardments, and attacking land targets over 2,000 kilometers (1,200 mi) inland (with her Tomahawk cruise missiles in the latter case).[citation needed]
For her short-range self-defense, especially for defense against enemy anti-ship missiles, Arkansas carried two automated Phalanx radar-directed 20 millimeters (0.79 in) rapid-fire guns. Also, her two 5-inch rapid-fire naval guns had some capability for anti-aircraft defense. Her six torpedo tubes, which fired Mk 46 lightweight torpedoes, were for close-in, last-ditch defense against enemy submarines that had evaded her outer defense line of ASROC missiles, and the long-range ASW aircraft of her task force.[citation needed]
After USS Arkansas was decommissioned and all of her weapons, computers, sensors, communication equipment and other complex components, removed, her hulk was sent into the Navy’s nuclear ship recycling program for the removal, recycling, and disposal of all of her fuel and other radioactive equipment, and this task was completed in Washington state on 1 November 1999, with the rest of her hulk sold as scrap metal.
