James Treadway
Before joining the fleet, warships undergo a demanding series of trials collectively known as a “shakedown”. Biddle’s shakedown took on new meaning when we learned that the combat arena known as the Gulf of Tonkin (GOT) would be our first deployment. The Nucleus Crew, those who had joined the ship in the builder’s yard, and the Balance Crew, those who had assembled in Norfolk under the Executive Officer, combined shortly before commissioning to fully man the ship. The crew that had recently commissioned Biddle was now focused on proving the ship’s equipment, learning the skills required to pass all tests required of a man-o-war, then immediately put those skills to use in a combat environment. Biddle’s outstanding performance during shakedown and post-shakedown was no accident.
To help Biddle prepare for the GOT combat environment, a group of officers and one enlisted man from the Operations Department were flown to the USS Fox (DLG-33) on Positive Identification Radar Advisory Zone (PIRAZ) station in the Gulf of Tonkin. PIRAZ control ships maintained continuous positive identification of all aircraft within the radar advisory zone. Wes Boer remembered that
Mostly, all Ops folks went to schools before reporting aboard – or during the months of fitting-out. That was essentially true for the whole crew. I personally came from a school where I was on the faculty teaching Anti-Submarine Warfare (ASW) (WWII-type tactics rather than standoff engagements, however) and other Ops related stuff. As teams, we went to various schools to practice on simulators. But, one of the main reasons Baker, Gerity and I flew over to the Tonkin Gulf was to observe PIRAZ on-scene action in CIC, etc. and to collect computer tapes of the action (with actual voice-overs as I remember) which we could run for training drills in-port or underway. That was pretty good stuff. We could run the tapes without the voice-overs showing air and surface action as occurring with our own guys passing info between team members, locking-on, simulating launch sequences, etc. All that training paid off when we finally relieved Red Crown (USS Chicago, a “real” cruiser) on PIRAZ station. As I remember, we achieved a fairly seamless transition.
Biddle Wardroom Dances with Disaster
The plan was to have the men fly from the east coast to Subic Bay, Philippines, where they would catch a C-2 Carrier On-board Delivery (COD) to the USS Forrestal (CVA-59) at Yankee Station. The final leg would be a short helicopter ride from Forrestal to the waiting Fox at PIRAZ. After leaving the Fox, they were to visit the Air Force facility and Marine Tactical Data System (MTDS) installation at Monkey Mountain near Da Nang and then return home. All objectives would be met, but not without a dangerous diversion along the way.
A group consisting of Operations Officer Bob Baker, NTDS Officer Bob Gerity, CIC Officer Wes Boer, Communications Officer Jim Checkett, and Senior Chief Radarman R.R. Graham arrived without incident at Cubi Point, Subic Bay. While waiting for the COD to deliver them to the Forrestal, Biddle’s best young officers, in the finest traditions of the U.S. Navy, found a beer machine by the pool at the BOQ that dispensed San Miguel beer for a quarter. We can assume Chief Graham found similar facilities at the Chief’s Club. The COD was 20 minutes late getting airborne which may have saved the lives of everyone on the plane. Lieutenant (junior grade) Checkett recalled that,
On July 29th of that year we were running about 20 minutes late on a COD flight from Subic to the USS Forrestal in the Gulf of Tonkin. We were in the landing pattern when a Zuni cooked off on a F-4 Phantom parked on the starboard side of the ship just aft of the Island. It went flying across the flight deck and hit the belly fuel tank of an A-4 setting off that entire horrific tragedy. Years later I found out that the pilot of that A-4 was John McCain, and I have since seen actual footage of him scrambling out of the cockpit before it blew up.
Of course, the COD being late might have saved our lives, otherwise we would have been on deck at around 1030 hours, and from what we could see of what went on from up there, that would have been the epitome of “being at the wrong place at the wrong time.” Next thing we know, rather than landing, we got bingoed to the marine base at Chu Lai and then Da Nang where we were thrown off the plane and they started ripping all the seats out to fly back to pick up wounded, etc. They were doing the same things to every other aircraft in the area.
Wes Boer also remembered the tragic incident very well: “Yes, I was there and will never forget our near miss. We were actually on a long approach path to Forrestal’s flight deck when we pulled up and away. I’d estimate we were 30 seconds from tail hook time – and possible disaster. Eventually, when we landed first at Chu Lai and Da Nang and the hatch was opened, we were greeted by jungle heat, humidity, and smoking mortar holes in the immediate vicinity. The bad guys had shot up the place about 90 minutes earlier. I found that a bit unsettling.”
Bob Gerity recalled that
First, we were diverted to Chu Lai, a Marine air base where we sat around for a bit. We used some old rocket canisters set in the sand as urinals, then went off to Da Nang where all of Forrestal’s aircraft had arrived. There were several other officers from Forrestal and the Carrier Task Force (CTF) 77 staff on our plane who were anxious to get back out to their ship. After an hour or so, we took off and flew out to Oriskany, which had her own fire some time before. Smoke was still spewing from Forrestal. I was concerned too since I had a neighbor in Norfolk who was serving in her. He was ok it turned out.
We spent at least one night on board Oriskany. There was a fire alarm that night and the guy I was rooming with was especially jumpy since he had been on board when the earlier fire occurred. He insisted that we get out to the hangar deck until the fire, if any, was out. It turned out to be a false alarm.
Wes Boer confirms the fake fire…
Indeed there was a fire alarm on Oriskany later that night. I had just laid my head down and closed my eyes when I heard a southern voice on the 1MC say “Far. Far. Fire in compartment” umpty-ump. I did the math in my head and realized I was lying only about two frames forward of the fire site. As aircraft carrier compartmentation can be befuddling, I had mentally gone over the two or three escape-option routes available: As I was well forward (in Boys’ Town) the most dramatic escape route was to dash forward a few compartments to a gun tub on the starboard side, jump overboard, and hail the next plane guard destroyer about a 1,000 yards in our wake. (It now occurs to me that someone had to yell “Man Overboard!” for that to succeed as envisioned because we were steaming in the dark.) Anyway, with hat and shoes in hand, I chose the direct route and dashed up the passageway just outside my compartment, and ran aft toward the wardroom – one of the few places on board which I had navigated to more than once. Enroute, I passed a small working party surrounding a mop locker or some such compartment. I continued the dash aft and said to myself “Whoops…could they be…?” I turned around and strolled back to the working party and confirmed that they were at the site of the false alarm. Anxious to find a ship in the Tonkin Gulf that was not on fire or about to be on fire, our party eventually made their way to the Fox without Chief Graham who had separated from the group in Chu Lai and never caught up with them. The group enjoyed Fox hospitality (without 25 cent beer) and got a good look at the Gulf of Tonkin combat scene. Six days later, our explorers reversed their course and headed home. Communications Officer Checkett continues the story…
I remember later in that trip we went to Da Nang as part of our scheduled indoctrination. We visited the Air Force and Marine facilities at the top of Monkey Mountain that we eventually would link our NTDS system up with in the GOT when we relieved as PIRAZ. When we were in Da Nang I felt a high sense of semi- fear, anxiety and vulnerability. As soon as we got to the top of Monkey Mountain and realized there were 25,000 U.S. Marines camped out at the bottom, I never felt safer in my life! Plus, as an added attraction, the facility was completely air-conditioned! Not only was the facility air conditioned, which was an ungody relief from the stifling heat and humidity down below, but I also have a distinct memory of lots of marble floors in a place which was kind of awesome.
History of the Ship – 1967
The following paragraphs, which are excerpts from Biddle’s History Of The Ship (1967), summarize her pre-shakedown, shakedown, and post-shakedown activities. The number of trials Biddle underwent in one year was incredible – 35, maybe more.
BIDDLE first put to sea on Builders Trials 30 November – 1 December 1966 and one week later successfully performed Preliminary Acceptance Trials (9-11 December). One month later, on 10 January 1967, the builders delivered BIDDLE to Boston Naval Shipyard, Boston, Massachusetts, where the ship was accepted on behalf of the Navy by Rear Admiral Means Johnston, Commandant, First Naval District.
One day later the Balance Crew joined the Nucleus Crew on board and began functioning as a team to commence Fitting Out Availability at Boston Naval Shipyard.
On 21 January 1967 BIDDLE was placed “In Commission, Special.” On that [day], Captain Maylon T. Scott, USN, assumed command and reported to Commander, Cruiser-Destroyer Force, U.S. Atlantic Fleet for operational control. The principal speaker at the commissioning ceremonies was Admiral Thomas H. Moorer, then Commander in Chief U.S. Atlantic Fleet and subsequently appointed Chief of Naval Operations.
A short 45 days later, during which a two day FAST cruise along side the pier (20-21 February 1967) and a two day Consolidated Operability Test at sea (22-23 February 1967) were conducted, Fitting Out was completed and BIDDLE put to sea the very next day – in a fully “in commission” status. Also on this day, 24 February 1967, BIDDLE was administratively assigned to Destroyer Squadron Twenty-Six in Cruiser- Destroyer Flotilla Eight.
Covered with ice, BIDDLE made her first port of call in Newport, Rhode Island for a quick series of degaussing checks. [A ship’s disturbance of the magnetic field is detectable by other ships, submarines, and aircraft. Degaussing or de-perming makes a ship safe against the action of magnetic mines.] Leaving Newport a few hours later, the ship set course for Yorktown, Virginia to load ammunition and missiles. On 28 February, BIDDLE proceeded to Hampton Roads and the Virginia Capes operating area and remained three days to conduct sonar calibration trials and aircraft tracking drills.
Arriving in Mayport on the 4th of March, BIDDLE began an intensive three weeks of Missile Qualification Trials with over 40 hours devoted to air tracking/missile designation exercises alone. Independent ships exercises were also conducted during the three week period, including gunnery practice, replenishment at sea, NTDS Link 11 data exchange , and ECM drills. Submarine tracking was also scheduled but was cancelled when the servicing submarine suffered a propulsion casualty.
Having been operational for exactly one month, BIDDLE departed the Jacksonville Operating Area for the Atlantic Fleet Weapons Range in Puerto Rico ready to conduct the crucial ships qualification trials (SQT) missile firings on 29 March 1967.
On the missile range, BIDDLE’S outstanding team of professional missile-men scored SIX hits with SIX missiles.
[Tom Marfiak note: This is significant – it defies the odds! Scenarios are challenging – new systems and people – yet Biddle achieved the highest performance possible. Augured well for the future.]
Following a brief period in San Juan, BIDDLE continued shakedown training with Ant-Submarine Warfare Ship Qualification Trial (1-14 April) followed by six weeks of Shakedown Training under Commander Fleet Training Group at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba (18 April – 26 May 1967.) From 29 April to 3 May 1967 BIDDLE also conducted Final Acceptance Trials and made a weekend visit to Montego Bay, Jamaica.
BIDDLE earned an overall grade of EXCELLENT for Shakedown Training, the highest Shakedown/Refresher Training mark ever made at Guantanamo for a ship of her type. This is especially significant considering the foreshortened period of training. The official record states:
Time available to the ship compared to prescribed time for type: Ready for sea; independent exercises enroute: Accomplished in 5 days with 21 days prescribed. Shakedown Training at Guantanamo: Accomplished in 32 days with 70 days prescribed. From Guantanamo Bay, BIDDLE headed home for Boston via the missile range where another successful firing operation was conducted, and via Yorktown, Virginia, again, to off-load missiles and ammunition prior to entering the Shipyard.
BIDDLE arrived in Boston 2 June 1967 to begin a brief but well deserved liberty period prior to beginning Post Shakedown Availability (PSA) at the Boston Naval Shipyard commencing 7 June 1967.
Originally scheduled for three months, the PSA was extended six more weeks to end on 30 October 1967. This extension allowed for the installation of additional equipment, certain modifications and routine Post-shakedown adjustments. Among some of the new features added were an additional NTDS computer, greatly expanded communications capability and special equipment for improving BIDDLE’S already formidable air detection and tracking systems in preparation for future extended special deployments overseas.
On 29 September 1967 BIDDLE successfully achieved an outstanding milestone in the career of a major combatant. On that day, BIDDLE successfully passed the Special Weapons (nuclear) Acceptance Inspection, seven weeks ahead of schedule. Only two other CRUDESLANT units have achieved that distinction. The successful NWAI meant that BIDDLE was certified capable of handling special weapons should the need arise.
On 31 October 1967, BIDDLE left her temporary homeport of Boston and proceeded to her new homeport, Norfolk, Virginia, once again going by way of Yorktown to rearm. On 3 November 1967 BIDDLE arrived home – NORFOLK!
BIDDLE took only four days to get acquainted with Norfolk, Destroyer Squadron Twenty Six and Cruiser-Destroyer Flotilla Eight before deploying again on 7 November for a two-week training cruise. The list of accomplishments on this cruise is also formidable: helicopter land/launch qualification; underway replenishment qualifications from a fleet oiler (AO) and ammunition ship (AE); ASW training including ASROC and tube-launched torpedo attacks on the submarine Amberjack; Extensive drill in surface and air gunnery; air intercept controller qualifications; damage control, engineering casualty control and ECM drills. Special CNO project test and evaluations were conducted concurrently in conjunction with these events. During this busy period, BIDDLE took a full day to collect antenna radiation pattern data off Charleston, South Carolina.
After returning to Norfolk on 17 November 1967, BIDDLE was active in preparing for and executing a special weapons demonstration as well as inspection by the Squadron Commander, Commander Destroyer Squadron Twenty-Six, Captain Thomas E. Bass III, U.S. Navy.
During the 17-30 November in-port period, Vice Admiral Charles K. Duncan, USN, Commander Second Fleet, informally inspected BIDDLE and sent the following message: “It was a great pleasure for me to visit BIDDLE yesterday. I was most impressed with the obviously high state of morale of the officers and bluejackets of your command, and with the cleanliness of the ship. The high standards of military smartness, neatness and appearance displayed in BIDDLE are commendable. I am confident the ship will carry out her vital forthcoming tasks with skill and competence.”
Underway again on 1 December 1967 for a training cruise in the Caribbean, BIDDLE continued Special CNO project tests and evaluations. A detachment from VC-8 was also aboard to provide drone target services for surface and anti-air gunnery. In engineering, a number of damage control and casualty control exercises were conducted plus a 25-knot economy run and a full power run.
During a two day stop in San Juan, Puerto Rico, Rear Admiral Vincent P. Healey, USN, Commander Cruiser-Destroyer Flotilla Six, broke his Flag in BIDDLE on 7 December 1967. On the following day, BIDDLE, departed for sea and continued training. After observing four successful firings of Terrier missiles by BIDDLE, Rear Admiral Healey hauled down his Flag. This was the first time a Flag Officer’s Flag had been flown in BIDDLE at sea.
At Culebra Island on 10 December 1967, BIDDLE qualified in Naval Gunfire Support without the benefit of any prior rehearsal firings. Later that same day, a jet-powered drone was “vaporized” (direct hit) by BIDDLE during a Terrier missile firing exercise. BIDDLE engineers then made a high-speed endurance test run from the Culebra Island area to the Chesapeake Light Ship in about 30 hours slowing only for gunnery exercises with drone aircraft. Once again BIDDLE stopped by Yorktown, Virginia, this time to restock ammunition, missiles and torpedoes after many periods of extensive gunnery firings.
On 13 December 1967 BIDDLE arrived in Norfolk to begin a combined Christmas leave and upkeep period and extensive Preparation for Overseas Movement (POM).
On 18 December 1967 Rear Admiral James F. Calvert, USN, Commander Cruiser-Destroyer Flotilla Eight made his first inspection of BIDDLE, the latest and newest unit to join his Flotilla.
On 21 January 1968 BIDDLE celebrated her first year in commission as a full-fledged unit of the fleet.
31 December 1967
Biddle was very busy for an entire year – loading missiles and ammunition, pre-shakedown operations, missile qualifications, ASW training, shakedown training, final acceptance, even more training cruises and even more training after that. We spent a lot of time in the Roosevelt Roads area of Puerto Rico testing our missiles, guns, radar, fire control systems, and the NTDS. Shooting a Terrier missile or Anti-Submarine Rocket (ASROC) was loud and fun but I think I enjoyed the 5-inch and 3-inch guns more. Shooting the 5-inch /54 in fully automatic mode was very impressive.
Occasionally something would happen to remind us that even training could be very serious business. Ensign Trump explains:
We once managed to get submarine services for an Anti-Submarine Warfare Exercise (ASWEX) during the pre-deployment training period. I launched an exercise ASROC on the target sub and the MK 43 or MK 44 torpedo actually worked as advertised. It searched, acquired and set a collision course – it only forgot to veer away and surface. Instead it actually ran into the sub to their great consternation! They conducted an emergency surface but found only a dent in a ballast tank. The torpedo was never seen again. Official logs would be needed to pinpoint the time and location. Also, during what we now call the – Combat System Qualification Test (CSSQT) – on the Atlantic Fleet Weapons Integration Test Facility off Roosevelt Roads, PR, we had a Terrier go ballistic. This is still spoken of in hushed tones, but it can’t have any security or PR implications any longer.
Lieutenant Commander Howe explains how to make a Terrier missile go ballistic:
The authorized firing areas within the Atlantic Fleet Weapons Range (AFWR) are generally associated with geographic positions that ships exercising on the range will occupy. From these positions ships are restricted to shooting within certain bearings that protect nearby land areas and other traffic. The restrictions are naturally constructed with ample safety factors but it is nonetheless understood that all firing must take place within the authorized sectors.
Biddle was firing on the north range of AFWR on this occasion, which meant that firing was restricted to a generally easterly direction. For some reason our earlier targets on this day had all been presented to us south of the positions we expected them and, as a result, we were continually watching the target bearing to ensure that we were inside of the southernmost firing boundary, which generally protected the islands of Culebra and the northeastern corner of Puerto Rico. The earlier shots had been BTs (beam-riders) and all taken well inside of the authorized area.
The last shot in our predeployment firing plan in December ’67 was scheduled to be an HT (homing) warhead (as opposed to an inert, telemetry package) fired against a high altitude, high speed target. It was standard practice to propose firing profiles (all had to be approved in advance) that, if successful, would result in intercepts along at the boundaries of the expected maximum performance for the missile fired. Pushing the performance envelope in this manner was standard practice.
The target for this shot was an AN/AQM-37A, a very small, high speed, rocket-propelled, single use target usually launched by an A-4 aircraft. The A-4 was tracked easily by the SPS-48 and the fire control radars but the target was considerably more of a challenge. When the pilot launching the target called “separation” and broke away sharply, everyone had to be absolutely certain that the fire control solution was being computed on the target and not on the A-4. Added to this challenge was that fact that the target was viable for only a very brief period (a couple of minutes) as it sped through the range area. These constraints created a very tense period and everyone had to be on his toes.
Bob Carr was engaged in a nonstop conversation with the SPG-55B fire control radar operators to verify that they were on the target and decide which system had the best track as we would need to decide before firing which radar would control the intercept. Jack Sutton and I were glued to the target bearing because the elevation was substantial and the range was short so the bearing was changing rapidly. We wanted to make sure that we could get the shot off before we hit the safe firing boundary.
Finally the decisions were concluded; we had a solid track on the target, a radar was chosen, the target bearing was within limits, and it was “Bird Away.”
By the time the firing occurred the target was nearly overhead and, for whatever reason, the missile never guided. This probably happened because “front-lock” with the controlling radar was never achieved due to the target’s extraordinarily high angular velocity. At any rate, the controlling radar was shut down according to doctrine a brief time (10-15 seconds) after intercept had been calculated to occur. This should have caused the missile to self-destruct but bridge personnel reported seeing no evidence of warhead detonation. The shot was evaluated as a failure by AFWR. It was our first failure in the life of the ship.
Two days later, en route to Norfolk we were advised that a farmer walking his fields south of El Yunke (Sierra de Luquillo, the rain forest on the east end of Puerto Rico) had discovered the remains of our missile. Calculating the fall of our shot revealed that the missile had flown close to 100 miles and evidently not destructed until impact. It got so much farther west than we expected by virtue of our failure to recognize that the solution for this very high, very fast target built into the launcher orders for the homer a huge lead angle that caused the missile to be fired well beyond the authorized bearing. We had simply been watching the wrong indicator. It was a lesson we never forgot.
It was a long, tough year, but it was not without some good times and some good liberty. San Juan, particularly Old San Juan, was excellent. I will never forget sipping dark Lowenbrau at Lum’s on the waterfront in Old San Juan.
St. Thomas, Virgin Islands, was an exceptional liberty port as well. My most memorable recollection of St. Thomas was the cheesecake at the Hilton hotel on the top of the hill. To this day that cheesecake is the standard for all cheesecakes. Liberty in Montego Bay, Jamaica was good, but the beer was bad. Red Stripe, I think. The water in the eastern Caribbean was the clearest water I have ever seen. I hope it still is. Guantanamo Bay, known by all servicemen as Gitmo, was like prison – no liberty, no fun. But, I remember standing on the fantail late one afternoon and looked down to see a hammerhead shark that was, and this is no baloney, 15 feet long. The only good time we had at at Gitmo was when we left. Countless sailors must feel the same way.
I can barely recall a rather funny scene when we were in the Gitmo area. A ship from a foreign navy, possibly Turkish, was having General Quarter drills not far from Biddle. A large, simulated hole on the main deck was marked with chalk which required traffic on that side to find an alternate route. Instead of using the other side of the ship or going up a ladder to the next level, most sailors chose to hang over the side directly over the water and make their way along the side of the ship hand over hand. It was quite a scene.
Biddle made a high speed run one morning when the seas were as smooth as glass. When I walked back to the fantail during the run I saw that Biddle was kicking up a rooster tail much higher than the fantail. Later I learned that Biddle had achieved a record 37-1/2 knots on peacetime screws. This record may still stand – it is often recalled at reunions and happy hours whenever Biddle men get together. In addition to the high-speed run, it is said that Biddle came to a full stop on that run within the length of the ship.
When I asked Captain Scott about the high-speed run and emergency stop, he commented, “I did not spend much time on the fantail when we were at full power with all boilers on the line, and if I remember correctly, it was more than 37 1/2 knots. Yes, many times that rooster tail was BIG. But, what you really missed, and I did too, was to stand there on the fan tail when we were at full power and then went ALL BACK EMERGENCY FULL…WOW!!! However, I think we only did that several times, and for special reasons…“official.” What were you doing back there anyway? Ho, Ho.” Sorry, Captain, the statute of limitations applies – no Captain’s Mast for me!
When Biddle was in Gitmo, a rather funny incident (now) occurred to young Ensign Trump. He explains:
Let me recount one sea story from the early days. When we were in GITMO for refresher training, one of the many things we had to do to earn a passing score was to prove we had all the publications on the official list. Of course, we were short a couple of SECRET pubs in the ASW world. It was suggested to me, as I was but an Ensign, after all, that I should go seek out my counterpart on another ship and borrow the needed pubs so they could be shown to the trainers. This seemed reasonable, so off I went to see what I could do.
Sure enough, I found a sympathetic officer on another ship who handed me his copies of the documents on my assurance that I would return them soon. By the time I got back to the pier where Biddle was moored, she was not there! She was steaming out of the harbor on a simulated emergency sortie!
Looking back now, I can’t think why I didn’t just go back and return the pubs to my generous, if incautious, new friend, but I didn’t. Instead, I went to the BOQ and slept uneasily with the contraband pubs under my pillow. The next morning, the ship came back and I went aboard to show the pubs. I don’t think I had the opportunity to get back off and return the pubs for several hours. My new friend was on the point of nervous prostration when I returned! He figured that he had been had by some security team scam and was on the point of going to his Weapons Officer to confess. He was very grateful to get the pubs back; but I don’t think he was unhappy to see me go away! Maylon and Fred (Lieutenant Commander Fred Howe, Weapons Officer) thought it was a grand joke.
The incident did not affect Ensign Trump’s ability to get promoted. He left Norfolk in January 1968 as Lieutenant (jg) and returned in September as a Lieutenant. Lieutenant Trump clarifies how it happened: “In those days, promotion from Ensign to Lieutenant (junior grade) was pretty much automatic after some period of time – perhaps 24 months. I was definitely still an Ensign for the commissioning in January ’67. Sometime that year I advanced to Lieutenant (junior grade). Subsequently, when Lieutenant Bob Harper (ASW Officer) left us, I “fleeted up” to ASW Officer and WO2 Bob Friedell joined us as Sonar Officer. During the deployment, I was given an early promotion to Lieutenant by virtue of filling a Lieutenant billet in the War Zone (and Captain Scott’s recommendation, of course.) if memory serves me correctly.”
Hard Charger! 