Tom Marfiak
The steam powered cruisers of the Cold War shared many of the cultural characteristics of their predecessors, the big eight inch gun cruisers, with only a third of the crew. Their commanders, senior captains of significant professional attainment, mirrored that heritage. They were characters in their own right. Some were colorful, while others took refuge in the aerie of command. In any event, it was a special privilege to serve under their leadership, to learn lessons of seamanship and command under their aegis. The organization that extended beneath them involved four principal departments—Weapons, Operations, Engineering and Supply, with Navigation serving under the Captain and Executive Officer to assure the safety of the ship in all circumstances. Department heads were Lieutenant Commanders, while the Executive Officer, a full Commander, would serve the senior Navy Captain in command. How were they organized? What responsibilities did they perform? The following paragraphs will attempt to give you, the reader, some idea of how they came together to create the true essence of the ship, its combat effectiveness.
The Role of the Commanding Officer
During this period, Commanding Officers came in many different forms. Some had been schooled in the Navy of the great gun cruisers, and tended to continue that tradition. Others understood the new systems much better, and worked to gain the most from them. All were adept at making their ships highly capable units of the fleet. Working through the Executive Officer and department heads, they imprinted their standards on the crew and on the operations of the ship itself. Even today, years later, their names are part of our memory. Some of them, Commanding Officers of USS Biddle, have spoken here. Their recollections could be mirrored by those of other captains during the same period, or those of captains of our AEGIS cruisers today. The tasks are the same, and the environment, intolerant of neglect or inaction, is unchanged. Standing on the bridge or in the midst of CIC, the chatter of the watch ongoing, the Commanding Officer represented the ship and all who sailed in her. His alone was the responsibility, according to Navy regulations, for her safety and operational effectiveness. The actions of the department heads, or the keenness of the Executive Officer, could assist him, but they could not take his place, or be an adequate excuse for inadequate performance. He alone had to integrate all aspects of the command, consider the timing of each operation, and plan each operation in his head, balancing intelligence and real time knowledge.
The Role of the Executive Officer
“XO,” is a cherished position within the Navy. Second in command, next to the Commanding Officer, confidant, war fighter, organizational wizard, he is adept at thinking on his feet, adapting to every circumstance, no matter how fast events might move, to keep the ship at peak efficiency. He is the arbiter for the majority of issues between the departments, and the chief planner for the evolutions that each ship must accomplish on a daily basis. His department, the Yeomen of the ship’s office, is responsible for the all-important Plan of the Day governing the activities of all departments. In port, his duties include the handling of all correspondence, the preparation of all disciplinary matters and the interaction between embarked staff and the ship’s company. At sea, he is everywhere. There is no better school for command than Executive Officer of a cruiser.
Navigation Department
The Navigator reported to the Commanding Officer, but in the matter of course worked most closely with the Executive Officer. Generally a senior Lieutenant, the Navigator was an experienced lad of upward pretensions. His department was composed of Quartermasters, an enlisted rating with particular responsibility for charts and navigation techniques. It was their job to keep the ship going in the right direction, on the premise that “A collision at sea can ruin your whole day.” In the days before electronic navigation, they maintained the paper charts, plotted the courses, kept the logs and timekeeping pieces, and generally managed the entire bridge. Since celestial navigation was still practiced, they were instrumental in keeping the sextants ready, training the junior officers in that fine art and plotting the results of the sights taken. When entering a foreign port, particularly one not often visited, they were key and essential, researching the available resources, laying down the courses to be followed and competently plotting the approach. It is important to note that this navigation expertise was not unique to the Navigation Department. The Operation Department also kept a close track on the ship’s navigation and the teamwork between the two departments kept the ship in safe water at all times. Many groundings might have been avoided had that teamwork not broken down, or had the commander not neglected to heed the warnings of one source or the other.
Weapons Department
The Terrier Missile system, the nuclear weapons and the guns and torpedoes of the ships armament all came under the management of the Weapons Department. Gunners Mates administered to the readiness of the five inch mount and the three inch gun mounts (to be replaced by Harpoon launchers in later iterations). Missile Gunners Mates cared for the magazines and launchers. Fire Control Technicians watched over the fire control directors vital to the effective operation of the missile firing system. Together, they formed the heart of the Weapons Department. The Weapons Department also included the deck division, headed by the First Lieutenant. He had a very difficult job – leading the First Division, generally composed of the least talented and educated on board, to assure the smartness of the ship’s outward appearance, including the boats and boat handling, and multiple ship’s evolutions, such as refueling at sea, where technical knowledge and deck seamanship both came into play. It was the mark of a smart ship that such evolutions, no matter how complex, could be carried off with smoothness and precision. Since these ships also carried nuclear weapons, there was an entire level of security and administration that was added to the standard tasks. Administration and security were carried to extraordinarily high levels. Periodic examinations, conducted by gimlet-eyed inspectors from the shore establishment, were designed to insure that no comma was neglected. All of it added to the aura of a cruiser sailor – high professionalism, higher standards, no errors permitted. Below the water was an entirely different story. Equipped with a large hull-mounted sonar, an ASROC missile capability and torpedo tubes, the cold war cruiser could be a formidable anti-submarine warfare opponent. Sonar Technicians, schooled in the vagaries of underwater acoustics, watched over the sonar and ASW-related weapons systems. In concerted ASW operations, they manned consoles in CIC to talk with airborne sensors, both helicopters and maritime patrol aircraft, to prosecute Soviet submarines in proximity to the battle group. Needless to say, the care and preening of their systems occupied a majority of their time.
Operations Department
The Operations Department would be superseded in later cruisers by the Combat Systems Department, a combination of the Weapons and Operations Departments of these days. However, in the sixties and seventies, the Operations Department was the natural development of the weapons/operations synthesis that had begun during World War II. Arleigh Burke would have loved to have this capability. The Operations Officer and his department manned CIC, the nerve center of the ship. The Operations Specialists inhabited CIC, manning the radars and plotting stations as well as the communications and providing the backbone of the combat organization. They were augmented by the communications gang, the Radiomen who handled Radio Central and the Signalmen who handled all the visual communications, including flashing light and flag hoists. Seventy years after Jutland, we were still reliant on visual means for close-in maneuvering. In addition, the Electronics Technicians and Radarmen were responsible for the care and feeding of the sensor systems, the surface and air search radars, perpetually turning above the masts, to provide input to the crew in CIC and to alert the weapons operators when the missile systems were called on. Once underway, whether for three weeks or six months, they went on the watch twenty four hours a day, as did the rest of the crew. One did not have to ask who was on watch, or wonder who would answer the net. Unless there had been a dire event, the same voice would answer, the same steady professional would be there. Nelson’s lines of frigates off the coast of France must have had the same steadiness on watch.
Engineering Department
These cruisers were built about an engineering plant that filled fully half the hull and extended into every nook and cranny. The centerpiece of the array was a steam plant with twelve hundred pounds per square inch of pressure. World War II destroyers operated a steam plant with six hundred pounds per square inch of pressure. With the added displacement of the modern cruiser, only the massively increased energy of the 1200 psi system could provide the propulsive energy to move the ship in excess of thirty knots. But, as anyone will tell you who served aboard these ships, it came at quite a cost. First, mistakes could be fatal; a steam leak could cut off an arm. A fire could gut an engineering space. Standards had to be very high. Second, before the days of strict examinations, qualifications varied widely. No matter how smart a ship looked from the outside, danger always lurked within. The best cruisers operated seamlessly, making the difficult look easy. The master of this domain was the Engineering Officer, alias “CHENG.” To be called by that name was not a term of Chinese endearment, but a note of respect, for the Engineer and his department provided the energy that was the life of the ship. All the services, from production of water and light to propulsion and operation of boats, that made her live and made possible every other task on board, was the responsibility of the Engineering Department. Assisted by several junior officers, the Engineering Officer administered to an empire that included all the propulsion systems, the boilers, steam turbines, and electrical generation plant, the evaporators that supplied the purest water for the boilers and crew and the myriad of auxiliaries that provided the special power needed by the combat systems, the boats and davits, the gun systems and sonars and radars, the galleys and laundries and the damage control preparations that would determine the ship’s survivability in the event of damage or attack. Propulsion systems were the domain of the Boiler Technicians, the Machinist Mates and the Electricians Mates. Each was a very different group. The BT’s were rough and ready, tattooed and hardworking, surrounded by their boilers, fuel rigs and pumps. If you had their allegiance, there wasn’t much you couldn’t do. The MM’s ran the plant, with its gleaming deck plates, boards full of gauges and engine rooms crammed full of machinery, including the all-important evaporators that produced the water upon which the life of the ship depended. The EM’s ran the electrical plant, and with their brethren, the Interior Communications Technicians, provided the types of electricity, from 60 cycles to 400 cycles, that drove the vast array of systems on board. There were, of course, union differences, but woe betide the unfortunate member of the Weapons or Operations departments who might cast an unfortunate remark in their direction. On shore and at sea, they were one team, one fight. Beyond the propulsion spaces, the Auxiliary Officer held sway. His division had responsibility for all the systems that supported the ship outside the propulsion box. Ice cube maker not working? Air conditioning awry? No problem – a call to Damage Control Central would soon result in a capable response. The Damage Control Assistant, another key adjunct to the CHENG, had responsibility for working with all the departments to assure the proper status of every door, hatch or closure within the ship, as well as all the emergency pumps and damage control lockers throughout the ship. Memories of the Okinawa campaigns were still strong within the Navy then. From shoring to fire fighting apparatus, readiness of each component of the DCA’s empire was expected at any moment. As the events of the USS Belknap collision emphasized, the moment might come when the ship’s survival depended on them. They cared for the boats, the gig, the whaleboat and utility boat (a large personnel carrier). They took care of the helicopter refueling and lighting and the extensive water wash down system, designed to cleanse the ship of nuclear fallout, in the event of such an engagement. They handled everything from the ice cream machine to the movie projectors. One key component of the Engineering Department was the Machinery Repair Shop. They could fix or repair just about anything on board. With their lathes and welding equipment, they could make parts for washing machines or gun systems, boat steering systems or valve stems. Some of them were unconventional human beings, with earrings and tattoos, but they were wizards on their task, and kept us going notwithstanding the circumstances.
Supply Department
The Supply Officer and the Supply Department provided all those things that make life livable, from pay to clean laundry, from repair parts to paying foreign vendors for fresh vegetables. Their labors were unceasing. The galley worked around the clock to prepare top quality meals. Many a mid watch was made more enjoyable by a shipment of fresh rolls from the early baking cycle. The Pay Clerks and Supply Clerks kept the records up to date and, no matter how intense the operations, ensured that pay records were kept accurately and questions answered with dispatch. No task was too small or too unimportant. Foremost among those tasks was the need to feed the crew. The gleaming kettles in the galley were never empty for long. The ovens turned forth a constant stream of meals, from pizza to roast beef. In the wardroom and the chief’s mess, special meals might be concocted, served on Navy china and accompanied by such things as spices and A-1 sauce not available in the general mess. The wardroom, in the finest Navy tradition, dined on starched white tablecloths, with china and sterling silver cutlery. The Executive Officer, as president of the mess, presided. The Steward’s Mates presided over all with pride and efficiency. The Supply Department ran it all. Far below the main decks, the laundry provided clean clothes, starched khaki uniforms and carefully packaged underwear on a regular basis. There were certainly irregularities, as when one’s favorite shirt returned reduced to one third of its original size, but they were few and far between, and contributed immensely to the merriment of wardroom conversation when they did happen. The true measure of the Supply Officer would come into play when there was a major casualty to a key system, or when a call on a foreign port required the utmost in collaboration with foreign vendors. The best supply officers excelled on those occasions, conjuring up parts from nowhere, and making deals for foodstuffs and tours for sailors that kept up morale.
Department Coordination
Obviously, the work of all the departments had to be coordinated closely to ensure the proper working of the ship. Every morning the XO would call his leaders together for Officers’ Call. Notes would be exchanged and the day’s activities reviewed. One had the chance to observe the relative health and energy levels of one’s peers. Then, throughout the day, cooperation between and amongst those key department leaders would resolve one problem after another, just as it does today. Again, in the evening, Eight O’clock Reports, generally conducted at 1930, before the evening watch or movie call (depending on one’s circumstances), would provide yet another opportunity to assess the readiness of the command to conduct the next series of operations. Each meeting might be followed by a series of communications to key department command centers. The Engineering Officer, for example, would provide his “Night Orders” to the department, detailing tasks to be performed overnight, information on what to prepare for the next day, and the alignment of the plant during the next several hours. Similar orders would be prepared for the other departments. The Captain’s “Night Orders” would give overall direction to the bridge and watch teams. It was always understood that he could be called in an instant if circumstances so indicated. It would be the brave watch officer, in CIC or on the bridge, who did so. In any event, it was seldom required – if operations were intense, the Captain would already be on the bridge or in CIC. One did not have to ask.
Hard Charger! 