I assumed command of the USS
Gambier Bay, which is a Kaiser class CVE, on the 19th of August 1944. At that time the
ship was anchored in Segond Channel, Espiritu Santo, New Hebrides Island. Shortly after
assuming command the ship proceeded in company with other carriers to Tulagi where it
provisioned and prepared for participation in the seizure of Palau.
The Gambier Bay's part in the Palau operation was to furnish aircraft for
direct air support of the troops seizing the island and this operation was conducted
without any enemy air or surface attacks reaching the Gambier Bay. Our planes did destroy
many of the ground installations and in return received some AA fire which damaged some of
our planes. But, as a matter of general interest, we lost not a single plane during the
entire operation either from enemy action or operationally.
On completion of this operation we joined a force under Admiral Blandy
which was to seize the Atoll of Ulithi. This operation is probably well known. It was
extremely uneventful in that no Jap opposition was encountered and the island was taken
over without any losses whatsoever.
Upon completion of the Ulithi operation the Gambier Bay, with the Kitkun
Bay and White Plains, proceeded towards Hollandia with a force returning troops from the
Palau operation. We gave this force air protection enroute.
After arrival at Hollandia we proceeded to Manus where we commenced
preparation for the Philippine operation. The Gambier Bay left Manus on 8 October, with
Task Group 78.2 under the command of Rear Admiral Fechteler. The Gambier Bay was the only
carrier with this force for several days and provided principally anti-submarine
protection and, in addition, furnished some utility services in the form of towing planes
for ships' anti-aircraft gunnery training. We also took advantage of this time to exercise
our fighters at fighter direction and to give our fighters a chance to do some dive
bombing for practice on a sled towed by the Gambier Bay.
About the 11th or 12th of October, I do not recall the exact date, we
joined with the Kitkun Bay and with the remainder of Task Force 78 which had come from
Hollandia. These two carriers, the Kitkun Bay and the Gambier Bay, under the direct
command of Rear Admiral Ofstie, proceeded toward Leyte rendering anti-submarine and Combat
Air Patrol protection for the task force, that is, Task Force 78. This force was scheduled
to land two divisions in the northern part of Leyte. Upon arrival in the general vicinity
of our assigned operating area to the eastward of Samar on the evening of the 19th of
October, we left the task force and joined a group, Task Group 77.4, under the command of
Rear Admiral T.L. Sprague. Our first assignment was actually in Task Unit 77.4.3 under
Rear Admiral C.A.F. Sprague.
Commencing with the morning of the 20th, which was the day the landings on
Leyte were made and continuing until the 24th and even to the 25th, we were occupied in
rendering direct air support to the landing operations and occupational movements of
troops on the island of Leyte.
We provided Combat Air Patrol, anti-submarine patrol for vessels in the
transport area off Leyte. In addition we provided the same services for ourselves. Our
principal job, however, was to launch air strikes against enemy ground positions which we
did throughout this period from the 20th to the 24th.
The period 20 to 23 October, was quite uneventful in that we received no
air attacks, and life was quite peaceful aboard ship. The 24th was routine with the
exception of the fact that our early morning Combat Air Patrol managed to shoot down seven
enemy planes over Leyte. However during the day and into the evening there was something
ominous about the reports that were coming in about the movements of enemy ships in the
eastern Philippines. It was quite obvious to me from our plots of positions of enemy
forces, which were obtained from radio intercepts, that something was stirring and that
the Japs were assembling a considerable force of ships including battleships and cruisers.
Because of this situation, although our job was not to attack ships of this category, we
realized we might perhaps be called upon to divert from our primary mission of supporting
the ground operations. I had a conference the evening of the 24th, involving the executive
officer, the air officer, our operations officer, the squadron commander of the squadron
embarked, who was Lieutenant Commander Huxtable, commanding VC Squadron Ten. We also had
the air ordnance officer at this conference.
I was particularly concerned to make sure that we were ready in case we
were called upon to launch a torpedo attack. Among other things I made sure that all our
pilots were recently briefed in enemy ship identification and also in the technique of
torpedo dropping. They had no recent training or experience in this and I was particularly
anxious to make sure that they were at least as well briefed as could be and knew the
latest thoughts and techniques pertaining to torpedo dropping. In addition, quite
naturally, I made sure that our ordnance gang was fully prepared to load torpedoes on
short notice.
At about 2:30 in the morning I was awakened by our communications watch
officer who brought me a message indicating that the Battle of Surigao was taking place.
Immediately upon receipt of this message and realizing that we might have to help out, I
ordered all unobligated planes loaded with torpedoes.
To clear up what I mean by unobligated planes: we had a routine schedule
to meet for the following day and our forenoon demands for torpedo planes were such as to
leave only four of a total of 11 Avengers on board without a prospective chore assigned.
The torpedo loading was commenced immediately after issue of this order. Two planes were
loaded with torpedoes and two more torpedoes were placed in the fully ready condition and
could have been loaded in a few more minutes.
At 0500 in the morning we launched eight fighters to take up routine
station over Leyte as Combat Air Patrol for the protection of our ground troops and
transports. This flight was launched by catapult in complete darkness except for the
lights shown by our screening vessels. There was nothing particularly eventful about this
operation worthy of note.
At about 0620, as I recall it, the sun came up. It gives you an idea of
how dark it was when our planes were launched. At 0630 we had been at general quarters, of
course, since about 0430 at the time we started the warming up of planes for the 0500
launch. At about 0630 the officer in tactical command, Rear Admiral C.A.F. Sprague sent a
signal by TBS to the effect that commanding officers might secure from general quarters at
discretion. I secured from general quarters and went to condition 3 but remained on the
bridge as did the navigator who was working up his morning position.
At about 0645 things commenced to happen. We intercepted a rather frantic
voice transmission from a plane we believed was in an adjacent task unit, Task Unit
77.4.2. The gist of the message was that the Jap fleet was there somewhere about 40 miles
from his home station.
We didn't have to wait long to get additional information. One of our own
task unit's anti-submarine patrol planes reported the presence to the northwestward,
distance about 25 miles, of a Japanese fleet consisting of four battleships, eight
cruisers and 13 destroyers. Almost simultaneously there reached me on the bridge a report
from the radar room, and there was visible in the PPI on the bridge a force which could be
nothing but enemy since we knew of no one that should be in a position 25 miles to the
northwest of us. The radar plot confirmed the report from our anti-submarine patrol.
To make certain of the situation required no great amount of thought since
about that time major caliber salvos commenced falling in the center of our formation.
Just prior to this contact we had been on a northernly course, which as I recall it, was
040. Only a few minutes before the contact we had reversed our course and were headed in a
generally southernly direction. Immediately this contact was made and identified as enemy.
The officer in tactical command ordered a course change which brought us generally to the
east, and was near enough to the wind to permit launching.
Without waiting for instructions I commenced launching all planes on deck
since I was under immediate threat of losing everything due to a shell hit on deck and
setting the planes on fire. I managed to launch all ten remaining fighters on deck and in
addition, the seven torpedo planes that were on deck. Unfortunately the torpedo planes
were not fully loaded with bombs or torpedoes due to the situation.
You see we had our planes loaded for missions involving direct support of
shore troops and the loading for that was a combination of some planes with 100 pound
bombs and others with 500 pound general purpose bombs. Our next scheduled flight,
scheduled for 1000, was an anti-submarine patrol and we were caught in the process of
shifting bombs and hence some of our planes had the depth bombs in them that they would be
used at 10 o'clock, some of them had nothing in them and others still had the general
purpose bombs in them. Our planes, however, did much good in the air as you will find out
later. They probably did delay utter catastrophy to the whole task unit.
As soon as I had completed launching the planes on deck, I started
bringing up the planes from below which were the four torpedo planes which were not
obligated for morning strike missions. Other planes that were brought up from the hangar
deck were gassed since it was routine doctrine to keep all planes below the flight deck
debombed and de-gassed for the safety of the ship.
By this time the officer in tactical command had changed course in small
increments towards the south and when my planes were brought up on deck we had very little
relative wind movement over the deck. According to the tables we didn't have enough wind
to launch a fully loaded and fully fueled torpedo plane. The first torpedo plane to be
launched with a torpedo in it was accordingly launched with only 35 gallons of gasoline in
it. This plane subsequently launched a torpedo successfully against the enemy and then, of
course, was lost.
The first torpedo plane, notwithstanding the fact that it didn't have
enough wind over the deck, went off all right and I permitted the full loading of the
second one with gasoline. This was launched with a full gasoline load and torpedo in it
and also took part in making an attack on the enemy.
The remaining two planes were gassed fully. One of them was brought up on
deck and later on jettisoned. We had changed course a little more to the south which
brought the wind almost directly astern of us and there was only a five knot relative wind
over the deck and I know that was certain death for the crew to catapult it and hence I
pulled the crew out of the plane and catapulted the plane without a crew just as a means
of jettisoning it since we were by that time threatened with hits. Salvos were falling
pretty close.
During this
period from about 0710 to about 0730 the enemy main body was pretty well concentrated
astern of us generally to the north of us. Our destroyers made an attack at this time. All
of our ships made smoke. Our planes in the air made attacks, repeated attacks, many of
them without bombs. About this time a rain squall intervened and the result of all these
things in combination was such as to bring about a lull in the firing from the enemy
force. And also a change in their relative position.
When we came out of this rain squall at about 0830 (the Webmaster
estimates 0730) as near as I can tell the situation was essentially this: We were
still in a good formation, that is, the carriers were. As a matter of interest, there were
six carriers in the formation, all equally spaced on a circle 5,000 yards in diameter. The
ships were stationed in the following order, clockwise, the St. Lo was due north of the
center of the circle. Other ships were in clockwise rotation separated by 60 degrees in
the following order, Kalinin Bay, Gambier Bay, Kitkun Bay, White Plains, and Fanshaw Bay.
The latter ship contained the O.T.C. and at that time was the guide.
All our destroyers, all our screen consisting of three 2,100 ton
destroyers and four DEs had already left their screening station which had been a circle
outside of this inner circle of CVEs. They had left and made their attack so that at about
this time as we came out of the rain squall, carriers were still in this circular
formation. Our destroyers and destroyer-escorts were gone away from the formation; engaged
in smoke-laying operations, torpedo attacks, and gunfire.
The enemy's main
body, that is, the battleships, were essentially about ten miles to the north of us. A
division of cruisers of either three or four in number, probably of the Tone class, had
gained station about 15 or 16,000 yards to the northeast of the formation. The wind was
generally from the northeast. As a result the Gambier Bay and the Kalinin Bay were on the
exposed windward flank of the formation where our own smoke provided very little coverage
between us and these cruisers to the northeast. It did offer more protection to the other
ships of the formation. And the destroyer smoke and their attacks momentarily, at least,
suppressed the fire from the main enemy battleship body to the north, directly to the
north of us.
These cruisers then to the northeast were in an excellent position and
without opposition to pour in a rather heavy fire upon the Gambier Bay and the Kitkun Bay
which they proceeded to do without delay. However, their fire was somewhat inaccurate, not
very fast, salvos were about a minute or a minute and a half apart and they did not fire a
particularly large salvo, they fired four gun salvos. Apparently the Tone class were
firing alternately the first two turrets and then the second two turrets rather than
firing an eight-gun salvo. Why that was, I don't know. The pattern of this four-gun salvo
was rather small. Their spotting was rather methodical and enabled us to dodge salvos.
I maneuvered the ship
alternately from one side of the base course to another as I saw that a salvo was about
due to hit. One could observe that the salvos would hit some distance away and gradually
creep up closer and from the spacing on the water could tell that the next one would be on
if we did nothing. We would invariably turn into the direction from which the salvos were
creeping and sure enough the next salvo would land right in the water where we would have
been, if we hadn't turned. The next few salvos would creep across to the other side and
gradually creep back and would repeat the operation. This process lasted for, believe it
or not, a half hour during which the enemy was closing constantly.
When the range was finally reduced to about 10,000 yards, we weren't quite
so lucky and we took a hit through the flight deck, followed almost immediately by a most
unfortunate piece of damage which I believe was caused by a salvo which fell just short of
the port side of the ship and the shell probably exploded very near the plates outside of
the forward engine room. We had a hole in our port engine room as a result of this hit or
near miss which permitted rapid flooding of the engine room and made it necessary to
secure. With the loss of this one engine my speed was dropped from full speed of 191/2
knots to about 11 knots. Of course, I dropped astern of the formation quite rapidly and
the range closed at an alarming speed.
The Japs really poured
it in then and we were being hit with practically every salvo, at least one shot in each
salvo did damage to the ship, although there were still occasional wild salvos. During the
period from this first hit, which was around 0810 in the morning, until we sank, which was
about 0910 in the morning, we were being hit probably every other minute. The hits that
went through the upper structure did very little damage since the shells did not explode
inside the ship. However, those shells which hit either just short or below the water line
did explode and the result was that in very short order I had a flooded after engine room
I had to secure which left the ship helpless in the water and without any power to provide
water pressure.
Up to this time we had managed to keep our fires, started by the shell
hits, suppressed, but when we lost water pressure, every hit was a small fire which soon
developed into a larger one. The one remaining plane on the hanger deck was hit and caught
fire, the gasoline in it caught fire. I do not think that the torpedo, torpex-loaded,
exploded, but I believe the gas burned at a high rate, approaching explosion.
At about 0850 with the ship
helpless in the water and with this division of cruisers passing close by and other ships
of the main formation passing close by on the other side and being fired at from all
sides, I ordered the ship abandoned. As we were abandoning ship the enemy ships in various
directions were still firing. As a matter of fact, as the ship rolled over at about 0904,
as I recall it, somewhere in there, a few minutes before she completely disappeared, there
was a cruiser about 2,000 yards away still pumping it in and also still missing.
After we sank, the enemy ships that had been firing on us went about their
business and pursued the remainder of our formation and disappeared from sight. However,
perhaps the most alarming thing of the whole operation, from my point of view, was the
fact that very shortly after we sank I observed a large Japanese ship dead in the water
about three miles to the eastward. We were pretty low in the water hanging on to a life
raft bouncing up and down and not feeling too well. I'm not so positive of the
identification as to say that I'm entirely right. I believe it was a battleship of either
the Kongo or Fuso class since the pagoda type structure would indicate such was the case.
Personally, I did not see the stacks but an officer trained in identification is quite
certain in his own mind that it was a Kongo class battleship since it had two stacks.
At any rate this ship remained dead in the water until about sunset at
which time it gradually picked up steerage way to change course to the north and
disappeared from sight. This ship was at all times attended by a destroyer, a two stack
destroyer, which during the early stages would seem to disappear and reappear and we
couldn't quite figure out what it was doing, whether it was picking up people or what.
Once the ship got underway just before sunset, this destroyer continued to circle the
apparently damaged battleship.
The following day, the 26th, thank God, there was no enemy ship in sight.
It is a matter of conjecture with me what happened to it. We were not picked up as you can
gather on the following day, in fact, towards night fall we could see the beach which we
believed was Samar. We expected to be set that way by the wind and currents. Midnight the
27th passed by without our being picked up and shortly thereafter we sighted ships which
we hoped were friendly. We waited until we were entirely certain of their identity at
which time I fired a Very star and received a prompt reply. Some time between midnight and
daybreak in the morning the bulk of our survivors were picked up.
Personally, the small group I had with me, consisting of about 150 men
gathered into a cluster of rafts, was picked up about 4:30 in the morning, thereby making
our cruise in the water of about two days' duration.
To go back a little bit, may I say once I got clear of the ship and was
personally safe, my first thought was to assemble all the rafts into one large group. This
I proceeded to do and had collected about 150 people when I observed this battleship. At
that time I thought I had better quit that process since it did attract attention and the
last thing in the world we wanted to do was to be captured, so I ordered the assembly of
rafts discontinued and we all just laid low quietly in the water and tried to show nothing
that would flash or attract attention.
As a matter of interest as to how I personally managed to get off the
ship: I remained on the bridge until everyone was off the bridge and the navigator who had
the deck, and I remained up there and we saw that abandoning ship process was continuing
successfully and people were getting off and at that time I directed the navigator to
leave the bridge and look out for himself, which he proceeded to do by clammering down the
life lines which led from the open bridge.
I myself wished to make doubly sure that everyone was clear and proceeded
down through the island structure. However, by this time, apparently there was a terrific
fire, probably caused by the one remaining plane on the hanger deck. Smoke and hot gasses
were pouring up through the island structure and I found myself in a rather embarrassing
position in that I couldn't go back up on account of the smoke which was really climbing
up through that area. And about that time another salvo went through the bridge structure
which urged my departure. I continued, however, down to the flight deck and when I reached
there, the gasses were so hot and black that I couldn't see.
I managed to feel my way aft along the island structure hoping to reach
the cat walk and perhaps get aft and below that way. However, instead of walking down the
ladder into the cat walk gracefully, I fell into it, not being able to see and I couldn't
make out for certain where I was. In fact, I was so confused at that moment that I thought
I might have gone further aft than I had and had fallen into a stack, so hot and so black
were the gasses. However, I reached up instinctively. At this time I was probably prompted
solely by instincts of self-preservation and grabbed ahold of the upper edge of what I was
in and pulled myself up and over and started falling and a few seconds, perhaps a fraction
of a second later, I broke into clear air with water beneath me. I fell about 40 feet and
hit the water with quite a smack.
I had on me at that time my helmet and my pistol which seemed to help very
little since it gave me a good jab in the ribs and my helmet, being secured at the time,
almost choked me as I hit the water. However, I came up quite rapidly and the cold water
seemed to revive me very quickly and I felt in perfectly good health except for my
somewhat crippled right side which prevented my using my right arm very much.
However, I think under these circumstances the instinct of self
preservation will take care of some rather astounding damage and I had no trouble in
making my way clear of the ship once I started thinking and realized I had to swim aft
instead of away from the ship. I had gone over the starboard side and the ship was
drifting rapidly to starboard and being set down upon me and I couldn't swim away from it
at all but swam aft.
About the time I got aft to the ship, aft to the starboard quarter,
another salvo went through the ship and at that time the ship was almost ready to roll
over. The port side was in the water to the extent where the hanger deck was under water.
I got about 100 yards off the port quarter at which time the ship very slowly rolled over
to port and very slowly sank, and there was no serious detonation.
I did take the precaution to get my rear end out of the water by putting a
board under it and lying on my back but apparently that was unnecessary since there was no
major explosion. I've told you what I did from there on in after the ship sank. I tried to
assemble life rafts until I thought it imprudent on account of the nearness of enemy
vessels. In all this account I hope you will recall that all records were lost and that I
am stating things purely from memory. Times may be slightly in error, but I don't think
seriously so.
As a matter of overall interest in the battle, may I say that I entered
this battle with absolutely no knowledge of the fact that the enemy we encountered had
come through San Bernardino Strait the night before. Information to this effect, if
obtained by higher authority, had not been transmitted to this ship. I think that's about
all I have to say. |