USS McMorris and the USS Sculpin's Lost Mission - WestPac 72

By J. O. Shannon, CDR (ret)

THE MIGHTY MAC

USS McMorris (DE-1036) and her three sister ships of the Claud Jones Class were originally expected to be anti-submarine (ASW) assets with long "legs" for remaining on station. These 1900 ton Destroyer Escorts were 312 feet long with a beam of 38 feet. The "Mighty Mac" and her sisters were powered by four Fairbanks-Morse diesel engines delivering 9200 shaft horsepower to a single screw capable of driving the ship at a little more than 20 knots. McMorris was outfitted with 3 inch 50 single barrel rapid fire gun mounts fore and aft. She also had 2 trainable Mark 32 torpedo tubes mounted amidships. As an example of the "legs" of these ships, McMorris made an almost 5000 nautical mile (nm) nonstop voyage from San Diego to Yokosuka in 1960 without any logistical support. The 14 day independent journey was made at an average speed of 14.8 knots and McMorris arrived in Yokosuka with 30 percent of her fuel capacity remaining.

In later years, the Navy decided these ships were too slow and lightly armed for their intended ASW role and converted them to carry out electronic intelligence missions. With the installation of updated electronics, including a special communications and analysis package and a satellite navigation system, these ships were capable of performing a wide variety of special operations. Over the ensuing years the McMorris crew became quite accustomed to orders from very high echelons of command to get underway in 6 hours or less and stay at sea for extended operations. These four ships were the only ones known to post valid "mail buoy watches."

BOTTOM NAVIGATION TO MIDWAY

A few weeks before the McMorris departed for WestPac on 30 March 1972, our new Commanding Officer, LCDR Richard Milligan, came aboard. Rich was an east coast sailor and thus unfamiliar with Pacific operations. As his Executive Officer and Navigator, I assured him that I had participated in several WestPac tours and was well familiar with the transit routes we would take. I also mentioned that our satellite navigation (SatNav) system would greatly assist us in safely navigating across the Pacific. In addition, our daily celestial navigation fixes were regularly confirmed by the SatNav. I was confident and Captain Milligan seemed comforted by my assurances.

Upon our departure from Pearl Harbor, as Murphy's Law would have it, we were completely socked in by solidly overcast skies and heavy seas … and then the SatNav went down. We were unable to see any visual navigation aids and the only navigation means available was surface search radar. As we transited northwest up the Hawaiian chain of islands, we realized that we would soon lose our radar fixes and thus our only normal means of navigation. Captain Milligan asked how we planned to navigate if the weather remained inclement and the SatNav remained down. I assured him that we could use the fathometer to bottom navigate. I then immediately retired to my stateroom to intently study Bowditch and Dutton's Navigation and Piloting. As we passed south of Kauai and Niihau we used surface radar bearing and range from Kaula, a small rock of an island, to fix our position while we perfected our fathometer sounding templates for bottom navigation. Once we lost Kaula on radar, we were forced to depend only on fathometer readings.

Armed with our refreshed knowledge of bottom contour navigation, we created cardboard templates based on ship's ordered speed and the charted depth contours. Every 15 to 30 minutes we produced a new template and compared these to depth readings near the intended track. After a short while, we were able to tell the CO that "our position is here … or here … or possibly here." Captain Milligan was not impressed with our first few attempts, but early on we could not be certain how the weather and seas were affecting our intended track. The seas were heavy and the weather was consistently bad. Therefore, set and drift might be significant. As we continued up the chain of small islands and shoals our bottom contour positioning became more reliable and the Captain started to believe we actually knew what we were doing. Three days of this type of navigation was tedious, but not nearly as bothersome as grounding would be. Helped by the occasional star sighting, our "most probable positions" became more and more trustworthy. This was a welcomed development given that we had to make a 70 degree turn around the shoals south of Midway in order to head for the Midway entrance channel. When the time came for that turn, QM1 Little and I displayed our most confident demeanor and the Captain ordered the turn. Confidence is one thing. Caution is another. The fathometer was manned continuously with sound powered connection to the bridge while we proceeded toward the entrance. There was a palpable sense of relief on the bridge as the SPS-5 radar painted the Midway harbor entrance and sea buoy dead ahead at maximum range.

PROCEED AT BEST SPEED

As we approached the sea buoy and Midway Island entrance weather and seas continued to be a problem. Even though we could finally relax in the firm knowledge of our position, we were not especially happy with the prospect of transiting the narrow harbor entrance in heavy seas. The heavy swells in the entrance channel were treacherous, causing the ship to roll excessively. After taking a 45 degree roll we made a 180 degree turn out of the channel to await better conditions. At that point, Midway Harbor Control closed the port due to the weather, removing any thought of refueling

At about this time, we received a FLASH precedence message to "proceed immediately at best possible speed" to conduct special operations off the South Vietnam coast. As stated above, the Mac was well accustomed to such "hurry up" orders and we reacted quickly. We were aware of the previous 5000nm crossing from San Diego to Yokosuka, but that was at a leisurely 14.8 knots. A direct trip to Subic would be in excess of 5500nm. Even the planned track to Guam was more than 3500nm and at "best speed" after a difficult weather hindered transit to Midway would be enough of a stretch. After consultation with me, the Chief Engineer and others, Captain Milligan gave the order to plot a course for Guam. We made our turn into the heavy westerly seas and rung up full ahead toward our new mission.

The key to the Mac's operational economy was a combination of diesel propulsion and a very flexible engineering plant configuration. The ship had fore and aft engine rooms containing the four Fairbanks-Morse diesel propulsion engines. The large compartment separating these engine rooms was the "Reduction Gear Room" where massive reduction gears and pneumatic clutches reduced the engine RPM and transferred the power to a single shaft. Located in this "red gear room" was a small soundproofed air conditioned control booth known as "Main Control." From there the engineer of the watch could monitor and control the entire engineering plant, throttle the engines up or down and clutch them in or out for any combination of operational profile. If the ship's mission required a slow loiter we could cruise around at greatly reduced speed by using only two main engines or even go down to only one, thus saving precious fuel. Of course we were in a hurry and thus all four mains were clutched in and throttled up to maximum output. This meant we had to be well aware of fuel usage and the Captain ordered constant monitoring of fuel tank levels by hand sounding to confirm readings on the tank gauges.

Although the McMorris was capable of 20-plus knots we very infrequently "steamed" at that speed. We were accustomed to a more leisurely transit to station and then loitering near other interesting assets. Once we started pushing the engines hard, temperatures in the stacks began to rise because the engineers had to cut a handful of malfunctioning fuel injectors out of service. Given that the North Vietnamese Army (NVA) had just started a massive invasion of the south and that we were hearing more interesting details about our mission, we were also "running a little hot." In the middle of the night, the engineering plant threw sparks out the stacks and caught some swabs on the after deck on fire. The 1MC announcement "General Quarters, General Quarters, this is NOT a drill" got everyone's adrenaline pumping until we discovered the source of the problem and put out the fires. The mildly overheating stacks continued to throw sparks for a while until the soot build up from the poorly atomizing injectors had been cleared out. Eventually-just like blowing out a carburetor and tailpipe-the plant settled into a respectable maximum effort without setting any more fires.

Throughout the remainder of the voyage we conducted twice daily command sessions in the wardroom to discuss fuel, navigation and preparations for the upcoming special operation. Hand tank soundings were indicating we would be able to reach Guam without a problem. The weather and seas had let up and-as you would expect-the SatNav was back on line confirming our celestial navigation. Navigation was no longer a concern. However, while enroute to Guam we suffered a casualty to the number 3 Ship Service Generator blower. Guam port and repair authorities were alerted to our need to expedite and we were able to make repairs and refuel during an overnight stay at Apra Harbor. We still had 40 percent of our fuel remaining on arrival, thus confirming our engineering plant's efficiency. We could not grant liberty due to the urgent need to continue on to our upcoming operations, but some thoughtful soul had made arrangements for beer on the pier. Once necessary logistics were well in hand, Captain Milligan gave part of the crew "pier liberty" to partake of the opportunity.

NIGHT TRANSIT OF SIBUYAN SEA TO SUBIC BAY

We departed Guam early the next morning and, after two uneventful days, arrived at the entrance to the San Bernardino Strait about 2000. The night-to-day transit through the Philippine islands and the Sibuyan Sea was tense, but uneventful. Upon our arrival at Subic Bay Naval Station at 0200 the next night we could clearly see our assigned berth. The pier was a bustling island of light and activity amidst a sea of darkness. Base personnel were primed for our arrival and started fueling and provisioning as soon as we tied up. The pier had been closed to unnecessary personnel allowing the logistic operations to be done more efficiently. We completed our activities at Subic and got back underway about 0500 before the rest of the naval station awoke. This dark-of-the-night evolution added another element of fascination to the entire operation. We were pumped for action.

THE INTERDICTION

We were fully aware of our mission by the time we arrived in Subic. We chopped to TG-115.6 to operate in the South China Sea for Market-Time and trawler surveillance operations over the next 35 days. Our first objective was a North Vietnamese weapons trawler attempting to land weapons in support of the countrywide assault started by the NVA in early April. With locating assistance from U.S. Navy P-3 aircraft, the Mac took up a blocking station to prevent the trawler from making a run toward the South Vietnam coast. While waiting for the Vietnamese Navy (VNN) ship to arrive, we stayed close to the trawler and issued several challenges, each answered with a "Fish catch/carry" response. Within a couple of days, the VNN ship, DER HQ-4, arrived on station. Upon her arrival, HQ-4 challenged the trawler several times with no discernable effect and finally opened fire with warning shots across her bow. We then saw smoke from the trawler's stacks indicating she was increasing speed.

It was at this time that the HQ-4 asked about a periscope and was sharply told to stop asking about that over voice circuits. Once the HQ-4 started firing, Captain Milligan took us to General Quarters. When the trawler failed to stop and yield, the HQ-4 fired first at the bow and then the stern to disable them. The trawler was hit fore and aft by these rounds and we could see fires starting on deck. A third shot struck the trawler on the fantail and seemed to jam the rudder because the ship began to turn in a slow circle. We could see trawler crewmen jumping overboard and shortly afterward the trawler went up in a tremendous explosion. We were never sure whether the fires set off stored ammunition or the crew detonated self destruction charges. During this action, the USS Sculpin's "hump" was clearly visible off our starboard beam.

Once we were secured from the operation, we were ordered to proceed to the Vung Tau area. On arrival we were met by U.S. Intelligence personnel who debriefed us and took our photographs ashore for development. When our images were returned, photos taken by the VNN ship had somehow been included, showing that the HQ-4 had recovered several trawler crew members alive although some were injured.

LONG LEGS & LONG DAYS

These events demonstrated to Seventh Fleet (7th Fleet) that the Mighty Mac indeed had "long legs" and that our special embarked capabilities were quite valuable. We had sailed more than 7000nm in about two weeks making repairs and refueling on-the-fly. Upon arrival on station near the weapons trawler, we set up a blocking position until the VNN arrived. In order to take advantage of this newly realized asset, 7th Fleet ordered the Mac on a succession of missions off the coast of Vietnam.

Next came a tour of "Market Time" duty, surveillance of the Republic of Vietnam coast to detect, destroy, or deter infiltration of war supplies by the North Vietnamese. In early May, the United States Navy mined the harbor entrances and coastal waters of North Vietnam in order to prevent the delivery of supplies that would be used to assist that country in carrying out military aggression against the Republic of Vietnam. McMorris was called upon to man the Notification Line in the Gulf of Tonkin with a mission of ensuring that no third country ships were allowed to inadvertently enter the mine fields. During this assignment McMorris was assisted by units of the VNN and U.S. Patrol Gunboats. In one incident, McMorris warned a Soviet surveillance trawler away from the mined harbor of Vinh on North Vietnam's central Coast and got a Russian thanks in return. We signaled the Soviet surveillance trawler Izmeritell by flashing lights and flags. One McMorris crewman, who spoke Russian, also talked to the Soviet crew by radio. The Russian trawler altered her course after the warning and signaled: "Thank you for your cooperation and have a pleasant voyage."

Being appreciated for your talents is gratifying. Also, sailors belong on ships and ships belong at sea. However, liberty after long days at sea is necessary for good morale and the "recharging of batteries." As McMorris prepared to enter Sasebo, Japan for long delayed shore liberty, we received another "hurry up" dispatch from Seventh Fleet to refuel and depart immediately for a special operation. A quick call to Pacific Fleet Headquarters-those most familiar with the value of McMorris and her sister ships-saved us from another "pier liberty" and quick departure. We performed the 7th Fleet's operation, but not until the crew was allowed to enjoy several days of real liberty in Sasebo.

For our actions in these missions, LCDR Richard D. Milligan, Commanding Officer of the USS McMorris, was awarded the Republic of Vietnam Armed Forces Honor Medal, First Class for, in brief, "The interdiction of troops and weapons into South Vietnam." The USS McMorris and her crew were awarded the Republic of Vietnam Meritorious Unit Citation (Gallantry Cross Medal Color, with Palm).

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