[After decommissioning, Biddle had one remaining cruise with Biddle sailors aboard. SKCS Dan Brunner was one of those sailors and remembers a “personal experience that I will never forget.”]
Dan Brunner
On a clear, cool, sunny day in late November 1993, Biddle made her final trip up the Elizabeth River from her berth at Norfolk Naval Station to Norfolk Naval Shipyard. In just a few months she had gone from a living, breathing, man of war to a lifeless, hollow shell. From the outside she looked as proud as ever. Her mooring lines taut, she looked like a racehorse just waiting to be released so she could pace briskly down Hampton Roads out past the Chesapeake light, and run loose – just like she did in 1992 when she-chopped to the Med. The Commodore slowed down the “Classic Cruiser” because the top-heavy “Tico” class cruisers we were in company with could not take the pounding. Yeah, we slowed down but we were still the first ones to chop into the Med. Nope those days were over.
When we walked aboard that morning for her dead-stick trip up the river the silence was spooky. No pumps, doors or hatches closing, the buzz of conversations, cursing sailors, smells from the galley or the 1MC sounding off with the daily routine. It was tomb like.
There were three of us left from the CPO Mess: SKCS Dan Brunner, BMC Jim Mills, and DCC Stan Gower. Three old goats to ride her up the river. Along with us were the First Lieutenant and a handful of deck seaman for line handlers. Not much to do except to watch the tugs come alongside and make sure the line handlers were in place. As the resident SK, I had the inevitable DD form 1149 that turned over a “Belknap Class Cruiser, CG-34, ex USS Biddle, 1 Each.” After we got moving up the river the First Lieutenant wandered off while the deck seaman were clustered on the f’o’c’sle and Chiefs Mills, Gower, and I found a couple of crates to park ourselves on, back on the fantail. We argued amongst ourselves a few minutes as to who would be the last man off. It was apparent to “Boats” Mills and myself that Gower really wanted the honor. So after putting up a suitable argument and trading the requisite insults we deferred to Chief Gower. He could be the last man off. That being settled we watched the First Lieutenant climb up the mast and walk around up there for a bit. “He wouldn’t have done that a month ago,” remarked “Boats” Mills. After a few minutes the First Lieutenant appeared on the flight deck. Chief Gower yells up to him “Hey Lieutenant! This is no longer a commissioned naval vessel, right?” The First Lieutenant looks down at us and says, “That’s right Chief”. He looked at us for a couple of seconds, shrugged his shoulders and wandered off. “Whatcha asked him that for Stan?” I asked. Chief Gower opens up his jacket and pulls out a bottle of Canadian Mist, reaches in one pocket and pulls out a can of coke, and pulls three Styrofoam cups out of his other pocket. “Well”, he says, “I guess we can have one or two for the old girl.” Feeling we were obliged not to insult Chief Gower’s hospitality, we all shared several drinks. We did some reminiscing, told a few lies, talked some treason, and became quite cheerful. The First Lieutenant happened by once during our celebration and we cordially invited him to have one with us. He just shook his head and wandered off again.
At last we arrived at our new berth. We shooed everyone off and I can’t remember in which order Boats Mills and I went off but Chief Gower went off last. The first Sand Crab I met on the pier I thrust the DD 1149 at him and said “Sign for her.” He did, I gave him a copy and tucked the remaining copies in my jacket. I guess that officially put Biddle on the scrap heap.
We all had orders for new commands and more or less said “so long” and that was the end of it. I looked back at her a few times as we found our way back to the Norfolk Naval Base. Felt a little sad all day about the whole damn thing. You know, it was kind of like a wake and a funeral and we were the pallbearers.
Hard Charger! 