James Treadway
On 9 January 1968, as Biddle’s first birthday approached, her leave and upkeep status was terminated and pre-overseas movement preparations began. One significant problem remained, however. Biddle had received the first installation of the AN/SPS-48 Moving Target Indicator (MTI), an important component of Biddle’s air search capability since it helped separate moving targets from the clutter. After a 10 day underway period in November to solve the problems proved fruitless, ITT-Gilfillan engineers J.E. Dinsmore, J.G. Tyrell, and L.A. Denkers made preparations to get underway. At least two of the gentlemen remained aboard Biddle for most of Biddle’s deployment and were considered to be part of the crew. Mr. Tyrell had been in Biddle since early 1966.
On Biddle’s first birthday, 21 January 1968, the completion of the 50-item checklist in the Procedure for Getting Underway was begun in preparation for getting underway the next day for the Gulf of Tonkin. A birthday message from Captain Scott focused on our accomplishments since commissioning and announced that Biddle was “cited by CINCLANTFLT as the top destroyer type in the Atlantic Fleet to complete shakedown training during 1967.”
With all items on the Procedure for Getting Underway completed at 1430 on 22 January, USS Biddle (DLG-34) got underway on her first deployment. As Norfolk and a year of training disappeared behind her, new opportunities soon appeared on the forward horizon. An eight-month around the world cruise in a new guided missile frigate was dead ahead. Actually, what was ahead was more training. The Plan Of the Day (POD) for 23 January, our first full day underway, listed the following training items: flight following training, sinuous course/casualty steering training, PIRAZ lecture, PIRAZ Team training, ECM training, Helo team training, general quarters, missile/gun firing exercise, ULQ6/Chaff drill, and damage control training. The PODs for the next week weren’t much different. Going to war is serious business.
On 27 January Biddle passed 60 ships waiting to enter the Panama Canal at Colon, at the Atlantic entrance. Nine hours later we had transited the Canal, made a fuel stop at the U.S. Naval Base, Rodman, Canal Zone, and were enjoying our first liberty call in the city of Balboa. I was surprised to learn that the Pacific side is further east than the Caribbean side. (Look it up on the map.)
The next morning Biddle set sail across the mighty Pacific at 27 knots. At this speed the vibrations, heat and the crushing cacophony of sounds in the engine and boiler rooms were unbearable to the uninitiated but tolerated by the men – all unsung heroes – who worked there. The boiler rooms, as wide as the ship itself, were bursting with the pipes, gauges and pumps required to produce 1200 pound steam that would eventually propel the 16,000,000 pound Biddle toward her destination. Large diameter air conditioning ducts forced chilled air into these spaces to offer some relief from the heat. If asked, boiler technicians and enginemen might respond, “You get used to it.”
Training did not stop during the transit – any drill could be expected at any moment. Guns were fired almost daily and the klaxon announcing general quarters was common as well. It was a surprise then, when on a lazy Sunday afternoon we heard, “This is not a drill. General quarters, man your battle stations!”
The North Koreans had recently captured the spy ship, USS Pueblo, and tensions were rising all over the world. Everyone was expecting the North Koreans, Red Chinese, or Russians to try something. Our sonar had picked up a submerged target that we were not able to identify. Not taking any chances, general quarters was sounded, which probably scared the hell out of the fish and fishing boats that were masquerading as Russian subs. “Secure from general quarters.” On to Pearl….
Training continued during our high-speed transit to Hawaii. Biddle’s Command History for 1968 states “Throughout the transit, intensive training was in progress which developed a team from a conglomeration of highly trained individuals. Utilizing training tapes in the NTDS and Communications gear, a realistic environment was created in the Combat Information Center which made for smooth assumption of PIRAZ duties once on station in the Tonkin Gulf.”
Honolulu was Biddle’s next port of call. We stopped a few miles outside of the entrance to Pearl Harbor to clean up the ship before continuing. A small amount of fuel oil was accidentally pumped over the side and BT3 Treadway, whether he was responsible for the act or not, had the duty of cleaning the side of the ship.
Biddle, now sparkling, entered Pearl with topside personnel lining the sides in silent respect as she passed the sunken USS Arizona. I tried to imagine the destruction that occurred at Pearl Harbor on 7 December 1941. Six days later, Biddle stood out for Guam, pausing to fire two Terrier missiles at the Barking Sands Range.
Biddle stopped at Guam for fuel, and then departed for Subic Bay, Luzon, in the Philippine Islands. Soon after Guam disappeared behind us, we spotted a Russian intelligence trawler that had been missing for several weeks. We reported the trawler’s position for the benefit of our submarines in the Guam area.
Biddle anchored in Subic Bay on 24 February to replace the ammunition and missiles expended in transit. The remainder of the week was spent dockside for repairs, modifications, and loading stores. A U.S. Naval Security Group detachment of electronics eavesdroppers embarked and Biddle took aboard two 50-caliber machine guns and an 81 mm mortar.
Before relieving Chicago (CG-11) at PIRAZ, Biddle dropped anchor on 5 March in Da Nang harbor for briefings with the Air Force and Army. An advance party from Biddle was also aboard Chicago and Kitty Hawk (CVA-63) for more briefings from our task force commander’s staff and other Naval Air Attack Carrier Striking Force personnel.
When asked what he remembered about Da Nang, Bob Gerity replied, “Some memories of Da Nang come to mind. While we were anchored there in that big harbor, there was cannon fire in the hills to the north but guys on R & R were water skiing around the ship! Once when Bob Baker and I flew in there from a carrier (Kitty Hawk?) in a C-1, we received some bullets in the wing, which were discovered after landing. Another time Baker, Wes, and I arrived at Da Nang and all the aircraft from Forrestal were there due to that huge fire they suffered. This was after we had flown out from Cubi Point and had to make a stop at the Marine base at Chu Lai where the urinal consisted of some rocket tubes stuck in the sand. War is a bitch!”
War was indeed a bitch at that point in the Vietnam War. The 1968 Tet Offensive had just begun on 31 January, the first day of the celebration of the lunar New Year. Over 100 cities in South Vietnam were under attack, including the capital of Saigon. Eight enemy battalions had attacked the former imperial capital of Hue, which was defended by three U.S. Marine Corps, three U.S. Army, and eleven South Vietnamese battalions. The outpost of Khe Sahn was under relentless attack and would remain so until April. With over 37,000 Vietcong and 2,500 Americans killed, the offensive was not a military success. It was, however, a political and psychological victory for the communists by contradicting U.S. government claims that the war had been won.
Good Morning Vietnam
Biddle relieved Chicago as PIRAZ control ship on 6 March. An actual buoy north of Yankee Station, PIRAZ was the northernmost point of naval activity in the Gulf except for North Search and Rescue (NSAR.). While operating as PIRAZ control ship, Biddle maintained a position within five miles of the PIRAZ buoy, steaming below ten knots except when recovering helos. From the PIRAZ vantage point Biddle could see most of the northern part of the war with her SPS-40 and SPS-48 long-range air search radars. With a range of about 240 miles we could pick up aircraft as far south as the DMZ, west into the interior of North Vietnam, north to China, and east to Hainan Island.
Hostile aircraft often feigned an attack from North Vietnam, but we were vigilant in detecting, tracking, loading missiles on the launchers, and then illuminating threatening targets with missile-guidance radar as part of the final firing sequence. Lieutenant (junior grade) Peter Trump, Biddle’s Sonar Officer, remembered that “During the first period, the enemy sent an aircraft out to fly around us. Before we could get permission to engage he flew away home. Often MiGs would test Biddle by launching an attack, then turn back when the Terrier missile illuminators activated, but before missiles could be fired and then fly out to the intercept point. The capability to illuminate a target without actually firing is recognized as a self-defense countermeasure option that can be useful, and is included on even the newest AEGIS ships of today. “
Biddle’s first on-line period at PIRAZ and Southwest Anti-Air Picket Station was punctuated by heavy Navy strike activity in the Hanoi and Haiphong area, frequent harassment from MiGs who seemed to enjoy testing Biddle’s defenses, and long hours keeping Biddle’s equipment in tip-top shape. We were ready for some real liberty.
Kaohshiung, Taiwan, and Hong Kong
With the first of three periods on-station under her belt, Biddle headed east to our first port of call, Kaohshiung, Taiwan. Taiwan’s emergence as a major economic factor in the Far East was evident when Biddle arrived on 2 April 1968. Biddlegram #3, a periodic update of Biddle’s activities mailed to the families and friends of Biddlemen by Captain Scott, described Kaohshiung as “A mixture of old and new with clear evidence of progressiveness and building a viable country was reflected everywhere. As an indication of this teeming progress, the small efficient harbor was jammed with 125 large merchant ships. We enjoyed our brief respite, but we kept our eye on our next port of call, the recreation and free port Mecca of Asia Pacific – – Hong Kong!!”
Kaohshiung had plenty to offer as a liberty port, but it paled in comparison to Hong Kong. The sights, sounds, and smells of Hong Kong were the highlight of the cruise as far as this sailor is concerned. Biddlegram #3 described Hong Kong as: “All they say about it is true – progress, beauty, massive population, mixed cultures, picturesque, land of bargains, and the best cuisine.”
Victoria Peak, which faces north looking over the top of Hong Kong, the harbor, and Kowloon toward the New Territories and China, provided a breathtaking view from which I could appreciate where I just came from, or pick a place to go. The restaurant food was indescribably good, and I didn’t have to return my tray to the scullery when finished. Bargains abounded in every area – jewelry, clothing, antiques and electronics were a few. The stereo equipment I bought there is gone, as is the suit, but I still have the hand made leather briefcase that I bought in the Wan Chai district. I took a ride on a junk from Junk City across the harbor on the last night we were in port. Junk City, a floating city of several thousand junks, was eventually eliminated by city officials because it was considered to be an eyesore. That was unfortunate – Junk City was one of the things that made Hong Kong unique.
Relaxed after a two week “vacation,” Biddle returned to the Gulf of Tonkin on 16 April to relieve Chicago at PIRAZ. The hectic pace continued. In Biddlegram #4, Captain Scott claimed that, “During the last PIRAZ period it was not uncommon to simultaneously: land or launch helos from our flight deck; control our Navy’s interceptor aircraft; lock-on and track ready to fire our Terrier missiles; and stand ready to use our guns in self-defense. To quote our departing Seventh Fleet Commander:”
My appreciation to you who have served and fought so well. Combat is the most demanding taskmaster of all endeavors; each of you may take justifiable pride in your many accomplishments. The outstanding record compiled…has been noted by all echelons of command. There is no greater or demanding task than to carry the standards of your country into battle, and no greater reward than having done so well. Each of you deserves a full measure or your nation’s praise. RADM Sheldon Kinney
The Gulf of Tonkin presented different problems to different groups at different times. I asked Sonar Officer Lieutenant Peter Trump to elaborate the problems the sonar group encountered in the Gulf.
I do not recall any special preparations for operations in the Gulf, which is comparatively shallow water and the AN/SQS-26B(X) was designed for deep water. It was comparatively low frequency sonar. In the active mode, reverberations made it largely useless in the Gulf. So we maintained a sonar watch in the passive mode, for the most part. Sometimes ducting would result in a noise spoke from South SAR, or some such, but we seldom heard anything that attracted much interest. It was difficult to keep the Sonarmen alert with an ineffective system in a comparatively low ASW threat environment.
More interesting was simply keeping the system operating and aligned. By today’s standards, the equipment was pretty challenging. It was all analog, of course, and sensitive to change in almost every respect. The displays, in particular, were unstable. Long-term integration was accomplished in a “scan converter” – a double-ended CRT with a screen in the middle. The gun in one end would “write” data on a charged screen at sonar rates while the gun in the other end would “read” the data from the screen at television rates.
Another challenge was the LAPS – Louis Allis power supply – a pair of large (1,000 lb rotor) motor generator sets, which provided the transmitter power (3,000 amps @ 80vdc). Strange critters, indeed, for sonarmen to take care of. Very good for vaporizing screwdrivers, however. These things were located on the keel just aft of the sonar dome. In any kind of a sea, the motion was accentuated; in a quartering sea such as we experienced on the endless transit across the Indian Ocean to Madagascar, it was hazardous to your lunch.
Half the Sonarmen were frustrated and annoyed for the entire War Zone experience. There were two small berthing compartments amidships which each accommodated 12, as I recall. They were both assigned to 4th Division, initially. However, the starboard compartment was turned over to the spooks – Security Group personnel – while they were aboard and the sonarmen relocated forward with 1st and/or 2nd Division. I don’t remember the rationale for that move, but I do remember objecting to it ineffectively at the time and the bitterness it caused.
We had the sonar T/R (transmit/receive) switch overhauled in Yokosuka. This was a 512-pole double throw solenoid actuated switch the size of a two-drawer file cabinet. It was filling up with metal particles as the contacts wore away. No one had ever seen such a critter there before, but those clever people did the job.
Yard Work at Yokosuka, the Black Ship Festival
Biddle was relieved of her second tour of duty at PIRAZ by Long Beach, at which time we steamed north to Yokosuka, Japan, for yard work, then to Shimoda, where Biddle was to represent the United States at the annual Black Ship Festival. Immediately after we docked at Yokosuka, hundreds of Japanese shipyard workers stormed the ship, eager to get started. Their work ethic and enthusiasm were clearly evident – a nice surprise to me considering the likelihood that some of them had fought against us during WW II. I saw no evidence of resentment.
I did not pass up an opportunity to visit Tokyo since it was so close. As the tour bus headed north along Tokyo Bay, I remembered that Japan surrendered aboard the battleship Missouri in Tokyo Bay just a few weeks before I was born.
On the morning of 16 May the U.S. Ambassador to Japan, along with 25 other officials, embarked in Biddle for the 70 mile cruise to Shimoda for the annual Black Ship Festival. The festival commemorates Commodore Perry’s opening of Japan in 1853 to U.S. ships which ended centuries of Japan’s self isolation. Unsuccessful in his first attempt, Perry returned in the spring of 1854 with a squadron of nine war ships called “black ships” (kurofune) and signed a treaty that opened the ports of Shimoda and Hakodate to American ships. The festival has become Shimoda’s major tourist attraction. Accompanying Biddle was the destroyer J.C. Owens (DD-776). Upon arrival, Biddle fired an 11-gun salute, which was returned by the Shimoda battery. According to Biddle Press Release dated 6 May 1968, Commodore Perry also fired a salute to the Shogun upon entering the port in 1854. Many townspeople, “expected destruction rather than diplomacy“ fled the island at the sound of the guns.
The press release listed other similarities between Commodore Perry’s visit and Biddle’s. Commodore Perry “once lived in Newport, now the sister city to Shimoda.” Captain Scott is also of Norfolk and Newport. “On 24 November 1852, Commodore Perry sailed from Norfolk, Va. on the first leg of his Far East mission. USS BIDDLE also departed from Norfolk – on January 22nd – to join the Seventh Fleet in the Far East.” The Press Release also described Shimoda being much the same as it was when Commodore Perry visited:
Shimoda is on the southern coast of Honshu, 70 miles southeast of the modern U.S. Naval base at Yokosuka. It was near Yokosuka in July 1853, that Perry began negotiations for the opening of Shimoda and Hakodate (on the southern coast of Hokkaido). Originally, these two ports were coaling and provisioning stations for American ships.
The negotiations eventually led to the Japan-American Treaty of Trade and Amity in 1860 and sparked the development of Yokohama as a major trading port.
Today, the original treaty ports no longer figure in world commerce. Shimoda is much like Commodore Perry found it – unhurried, charming – and the townspeople are now only curious at the sound of guns in the harbor and sailors marching in the streets.
I concur that Shimoda was unhurried and charming, especially when compared to Yokosuka and Tokyo. An equivalent comparison might be New York City and Martha’s Vineyard. The townspeople were friendly and approachable, much the same as rural America.
After returning the embarked visitors to Yokosuka, Biddle returned to the Gulf of Tonkin for duty at Southwest Anti-Air Warfare Picket station for four days and then to relieve Long Beach (CGN-9) at PIRAZ. Biddle’s third appearance in the Gulf would be her last for the deployment and her longest. Biddle’s 1968 Command History describes the situation in the northern Gulf during her third appearance:
The bombing halt in April north of 19 had not decreased the number of missions overall, restricting operations to south of 19, MiG activity to the north actually caused an added burden to the PIRAZ function. The LONG BEACH had shot down a MiG with [a] long range Talos missile [while] BIDDLE was in Japan, so the defensive posture of the Gulf ships was heightened – the JOUETT, formerly on a Southern Search and Rescue Station, had moved closer to the beach to enhance the possibility of getting off a shot. Meanwhile, BIDDLE moved north, and, keeping the PIRAZ functions, added those of the Northern SAR by reliving PREBLE (DLG-15).
This was a period of change in the various functions of the ships in most northerly posts. For nearly a month BIDDLE and LONG BEACH exchanged the PIRAZ responsibilities and shifted locations in hopes of luring a MiG within range, but despite several near misses by the JOUETT, no such luck occurred. Finally on the 14th of July, BIDDLE was relieved by LONG BEACH.
Helicopter activity aboard Biddle was constant when on station. Biddle had a SH3 Sea King (nicknamed “Big Mother”) detachment for SAR purposes, while CH46 Sea Knights from Yankee Station carriers provided Vertical Replenishment (VERTREP) services. Occasionally, a UH1 Huey would land too. Landing a helicopter, even a small Huey, on a 50 foot landing pad in heavy seas was problematic, to say the least. Again, training was the key to conducting any exercise where some element of risk is involved. Some training is conducted “on the job,” however. Lieutenant Boer explains:
I remember when we started doing a lot of helicopter landings and launches. On the first day, first helicopter, I tuned into the air control circuit. A green seaman was on the flight deck phones and I could hear all the action. The flight deck OIC was an Ensign (Bishko? Seate?). I had a “schoolbook” understanding of what goes on so I would occasionally offer brief heads-up type tips on the this-and-that of bringing-in a helo at sea. I did it sparingly so as not-to-distract; after all, I was sitting in a darkened room with dim lights. But I considered it my duty to tune-in and sort of act as a safety advisor. But I had more pressing duties at my own Combat console, so I hadn’t monitored our air ops for a few days. I remember saying to myself that I’d better get back to my self-imposed “counseling” duties. I tuned-in and was rendered speechless: I heard this confident-voiced seaman speaking with clipped expertise going back and forth with an equally proficient Ensign bringing helicopters onto our rolling postage stamp of a helo pad.
Sometimes the Enemy is Us
A friendly fire incident occurred on Biddle’s 1968 WESTPAC deployment that involved Biddle, Boston (CAG-1), one other US Navy ship, and the Australian DDG Hobart. When I attempted to recall some of the details of the incident with DSC David Johnson, he corrected my account with the following story:
It was a four-plane section of Air Force Phantoms that independently diverted from an in-country mission to a feet-wet operation to which they had not been invited. This all started when a Marine forward observer near the North Vietnam border saw at near dusk what he reported as four helos headed south. There was a ground operation in progress just south of the border (it was a big deal at the time, but I can’t recall the details) that made such an incursion sound reasonable. In fact, Biddle was just off the beach to block any MiGs that might try to provide air support to the NVA.
We did figure-eights for hours on end to make it difficult for known FROG batteries on the beach to track us. We even loaded our EW program with limited air tracking capability to maintain surveillance of the truck-mounted radars. (FROG means Free Rocket Over Ground, which used two radar trucks for triangulation and a launcher truck. FROGs were bad business, even though it was primarily ballistic in flight. Still don’t know why a strike on the FROG units was not conducted.)
After a couple of days, the Australian guided missile destroyer Hobart relieved us and we were a couple of hours up the coast back to NSAR, I believe. It was just after dark when the Phantoms heard reports about the four helos, and decided to come out to the op area and check them out. I was monitoring voice communication circuits in CIC just to make sure your console equipment worked, and heard these guys get busy. They came up the coast from the south, and each one reported contacts on their radars, and they apparently concluded that they had jumped four low-flying helos. It all seemed to make sense to the Air Force.
I was in CIC working on a NTDS display console when the formation flew directly over Biddle on the deck at high speed – BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! the ship shook as they headed toward their targets. Chief Johnson’s description of the events continues:
Without checking in with Red Crown, they started an attack, each Phantom taking one of the four bogies with missiles. The truth is, they had run across four ships in the area Biddle had recently left: the Hobart, a 75-foot Swift boat in the surf on a clandestine mission, the cruiser Boston, and Boston’s shotgun (a gun-type DD whose name I forget; years later I had an employee who was a junior officer on the DD and gave me his perspective.)
One F-4 reported tracking a helo at 1,500 feet, fired (Sparrow, I think), and reported that the helo had crashed on the beach and was burning. That was the Swift boat, with several casualties and a couple of fatalities.
Another F-4 attacked Hobart and sent a Sparrow through the superstructure from aft to the pilothouse, with seven or nine dead Aussies and a bunch of injured. We tied up next to Hobart in Subic after she was repaired, and I talked to a chief who said he was on the way to his GQ station and saw the sailor in front of him get almost decapitated when the missile exploded.
Another F-4 attacked Boston and did some damage. Pieces of the missile were found on deck, including the serial number.
The last F-4 made two runs on the DD, but missed. Before it could try another run, the ship was at GQ and was starting to shoot, as I recall. By then, Maydays and other traffic in English were filling the circuits, and the brave Air Force dudes broke off and went home. There was a big investigation, and the Air Force finally agreed to play on a more integrated basis with the Navy.
The next night there was another interesting development with Boston. She transmitted a Mayday, said she was under air attack again, and asked for air support. Turns out that she saw some AA tracers from an island nearby that the NVA controlled, and some lookout took no chances.
The website at http://www.gunplot.net devotes a page to the F-4 attack. The site claims that Hobart was tracking inbound aircraft they had designated ‘friendly’ when one of the ‘friendlies’ launched a missile which struck the starboard side, wounding two and killing one crewmember. Thirty seconds later, Hobart took another hit from two missiles. Luckily, one missile’s warhead did not explode. The third missile killed a Chief Electrician and wounded two sailors. Hobart did manage to fire five rounds from her 5-inch gun at the target. Hobart retreated to join Boston and Blandy (DD-943) as a screen for the carrier Enterprise (CVAN-65). Later, as Hobart steamed for Subic for repairs, close inspection of missile fragments revealed that the missile was made in the U.S.
The web page also states that on the previous night of 16 June, U.S. Air Force jets sunk USS PCF-19, a patrol craft, killing five, and that Boston, Edson, USCGC Point Dume, and USS PCF 12.were attacked on the night of June 17.
Biddle tied next to Boston in Subic Bay a few weeks after this incident took place and I concur that the Boston was hit and damaged. Her wooden planks covering the main deck had been reduced to splinters and she had several holes in the superstructure from 2.75-inch rockets.
Playing Games
There were numerous instances when missile-equipped ships in the northern Gulf did not wait for MiGs to fake an attack – navy forces cooked up elaborate schemes to get a MiG close enough to launch a missile. One such incident involved Biddle, the guided missile frigate Jouett, and cruiser Long Beach, trying to “sucker punch” hapless MiG pilots with a long range Talos missile. DSC David Johnson recalls what happened:
The action took place in the vicinity of Vinh during Biddle’s 1968 tour. MiGs had begun a series of intrusions into the south of North Vietnam, leading to the conclusion that they were preparing some attacks. Vinh was a North Vietnamese Army (NVA) staging area, and got a lot of attention from strike packages. It was also a hot recovery area for downed aircraft, and so CTF 77 (Carrier Task Force) decided to take action to interdict MiG flights and send a message: stay home.
The plan had Jouett, then DLG-29, sit off the coast about 12 to 15 miles and do lots of tracking, and in general, make her presence known. Long Beach took position a couple of miles seaward from Jouett in total electronic silence, with the NTDS Link 11 in Receive Mode and Talos fire control transmitters in Standby but ready to radiate when ordered. Her presence was masked by Jouett’s activity, as was planned.
Biddle was positioned off Haiphong as North SAR, and her radars could see up the Red River valley to Hanoi. She was also the test platform for the first SPS-48 radar Moving Target Indicator that allowed moving aircraft to be detected among clutter caused by radar returns from clouds, nearby terrain, and waves on the sea surface. That capability was vital for seeing aircraft in all weather and in many jamming situations. Using our search radars and some magic devices (Seesaw – MiG IFF), we were able to detect MiG activity at the various airfields around Hanoi and create firm tracks as they flew south. As MiGs got into Jouett’s SPS-48 radar detection range, she took tracking and Link 11 reporting responsibility. Long Beach was monitoring the Link picture in Receive Only, and would designate the remotely reported MiGs to Talos tracking channels, with fire control transmitters still in Standby.
The Op Order said that when a suitable MiG target was in the area (engageable by Talos but generally outside of Terrier range), CTF 77 would pass the weapons-free command to Long Beach over radio as the plain-language phrase “Blaze Away.” At that command, track transmitters were activated, and the Talos engagement process commenced. The result: birds were away very quickly, even though the MiGs had probably detected track and illuminate RF activity and were heading for the hills. Engagements were successful at about maximum Talos range. This process operated successfully at least twice before the NVA figured out that Long Beach was present. The result was that few MiGs ventured into that area for a long time. Long Beach steamed around for a while with her missile houses black from the booster blast, probably as a badge of honor. Bravo Zulu, Long Beach!
Biddle was relieved at PIRAZ station by her old friend Long Beach (CGN-9) on 14 July after 50 long days at sea and 42 straight days on the line. Biddle’s first tour in the Gulf included three extended periods that totaled 70 days of on line duty. She had conducted approximately 260 helo takeoffs and landings on her first deployment, a record that would be easily surpassed during her second deployment.
Soon after departing the Gulf it was my honor to receive a Letter of Commendation from Captain Scott and a Citation from Commander Seventh Fleet Vice Admiral W.F. Bringle. The letter stated that I had “demonstrated exceptional initiative, outstanding professional and technical ability, skill and knowledge in effectively maintaining in a continuous high state of reliability and combat readiness the ship’s computer data display systems and the vital and sensitive beacon video processing system upon which the ship’s mission was fully and absolutely dependent.” The Citation added that my “skill and judgment contributed significantly and directly to the successful accomplishment of the ship’s mission and to the United States’ effort in Vietnam.”
What the Hell Was That?
Enemies, both real and perceived, presented themselves in many ways on Biddle’s maiden cruise. MiGs in the Tonkin Gulf were a known commodity, reasonably predictable, and easily tracked. On one occasion while on PIRAZ station, multiple unknown, unpredictable and untrackable targets appeared on Biddle’s bow. The event was a cause of concern and almost brought Biddle to general quarters. Lieutenant (jg) Jim Checkett recalled that
I was the OOD on the mid-watch on an absolutely cloudless night somewhere in CTF 77’s domain. I don’t remember who my JOOD was, who was CIC Watch Officer, Quartermaster of the Watch (who may or may have not made log entries), or Bos’n Mate of the Watch. All I remember is that the incredibly fast moving “light show” all happened in a sea level- to- stars quadrant from the bow aft to the port beam. The lights grew smaller than bigger at an alarming rate, making moves impossible for human piloted aircraft, and certainly not your garden variety “weather balloons”. As I recall there were somewhere in the neighborhood of a half dozen or so lights – all spherical and all bright like stars. At first we thought they were stars until the unusual movements started….pretty much exactly as described in a slue of UFO sighting reports we’ve all seen over the years. I tried to see if CIC could track them on the SPS-48, but they had no joy on any of them.
It eventually became hairy enough that I called the Captain to the bridge and there was eventually at least enough concern that some consideration was given to going to GQ. I believe in the end, after our little “light show” ended and our “visitors” disappeared…. either over the horizon or up into the stratosphere… most of us thought for sure it warranted a UFO report, but the damn report was so complicated and time consuming (imagine that!) we shit-canned the idea and continued pressing on.
The reason I called the Captain to the bridge was that every once in a while the targets would suddenly double then triple (or more) in size at a steady angle, which indicated the objects were approaching the ship at a high rate of speed. This implied a threat to the ship and I felt obligated to call the Captain to the bridge for that reason of course, but, even more importantly, one particular other reason.
It seems I was the first Lieutenant (jg) to qualify as OOD Fleet Underway on the ship, most of the others being Lieutenant Commanders. Maylon called me into his sea cabin and told me he was entrusting a lot of responsibility with such a junior officer as myself, not to mention his career, and he wanted to make his rule for waking him up at night anytime the ship was underway crystal clear. He simply said, “If the thought crosses your mind….should I wake the Captain?…you’ve answered the question!!!” That thought crossed my mind so I woke him up. That was a terrific piece of advice by the way, and I have used it with others who have worked for me over the years in many endeavors. Such a simple rule, but a perfect one. A win-win CYA situation for both parties!
Let’s Go Home
Biddle stopped briefly in Subic Bay, offloaded her PIRAZ gear and security detachment, then packed her bags and continued her around the world cruise, stopping first at Singapore. Unlike Hong Kong, Singapore was clean – no trash, nothing out of place, and no homeless people. Like Hong Kong, bargains abounded but with less haggling over prices. The Raffles Hotel, a Singapore icon, was, and probably still is, a popular watering hole. Lieutenant Trump clearly recalls “Drinking a Singapore Sling in the Raffles Hotel listening to the faint echoes of the British Empire.” He continues: “The Raffles Hotel was a favored Singapore watering hole during the glory days of the British Empire and was mentioned frequently in newspapers and colonial literature of the day. I believe it had fallen into disrepair and closed in the ’50s and had been refurbished and re-opened within the year before we stopped there. Again, these are hazy memories; you’ll need to do some fact checking. I’m not sure who was with me; the best bets are Jim Simon and John Burns. I remember checking out a department store that same day which was stocked with goods from the PRC – it may even have been owned by the PRC. It was a glimpse of the future; now a great many of our consumer goods come from China. Then it was unlawful to buy or possess such goods.”
After liberty in Singapore, we sailed through the Straits of Malacca into the Indian Ocean. Due to our westerly track to the port of Lourenco Marques, Mozambique, Biddle crossed the equator at latitude 0000 and longitude 87 East on July 27. When we crossed the equator, I, as thousands of sailors across the centuries had done before me, entered the Domain of Imperial Neptune, and was transformed from a lowly Pollywog into a mighty Shellback.
The seas were very rough for a week all the way across the Indian Ocean until we passed south of the Island of Madagascar. From that point to Lourenco Marques the seas were smooth once again.
Not knowing what to expect in Africa, it was pleasing to find that Lourenco Marques was, in many respects, a sophisticated medium sized city, not unlike many in the U.S. or Europe. Some of the local police were not sophisticated, however, as they did not hesitate to use violent force against citizens for no apparent reason. For example, I had shore patrol duty one night with a Portuguese policeman. As we entered a local drinking establishment a black woman made a remark to the policeman in Portuguese. Without saying a word, the policeman hit her as hard as he could across her back with his nightstick and she fell to the floor. Conscious but unable or unwilling to move, she was left on the floor to contemplate her remark. A few minutes later we enjoyed a fine meal with wine in a nice restaurant as if nothing had happened. Later, we returned to the heavily guarded police station where snarling police dogs kept a man, terrified and tattered, cornered in the main room.
Subsequent to leaving Lourenco Marques, Biddle rounded the Cape of Good Hope, entered the Atlantic Ocean and steamed north. After a short refueling effort at the Cape Verde Islands, Biddle docked at Lisbon, Portugal, for her first ever port call to Europe. Following a delightful three day visit, Biddle headed north, then east into the English Channel en route to her last port of the cruise, Copenhagen, Denmark. The channel transit was at night, at 27 knots, and “interesting.” Captain Scott stated that the transit was at “27 knots because I wanted to get the crew rest and the ship cleaned up at anchor a day earlier than going into port. I had not sent position reports on purpose so not to send a false report. Then the damn Russian [cruiser] came by and circled us. Had to send a report to CNO. But I knew one part of CNO did not talk to the other, thus they did not know I was not where I should have been.”
After the encounter with her Russian counterpart Biddle found itself on a collision course with a sailboat. Peter Trump remembered that “A very small intermittent contact was reported, constant bearing, decreasing range. Captain Scott was notified and did come to the bridge, as I recall it. As we made a slight course change to starboard, the sailor illuminated his sail. I suppose he bounced around a bit in our wake.” Captain Scott recalled that “I ordered the signalman of the watch to illuminate the sail of the contact. The part about the reporting of the Russian is a fact too.”
Leaving cruisers and sailboats in her wake, Biddle soon crossed the path the Allied forces took on D-Day. When the outline of the Normandy coast showed on radar, I envisioned the hundreds of Allied ships that were poised at that spot 24 years earlier, ready to invade Europe.
Copenhagen, like Hong Kong, was a world-class city, boasting outstanding food and drink, a liberal atmosphere, Tivoli Gardens, and very friendly people. I probably had more fun in Copenhagen than anywhere else. Two incidents in Copenhagen were indicative of the times, however. First, when we pulled up to the dock, anti-war protesters reminded us that the war Biddle had just left was not popular with everyone. Second, in a similar incident, a local citizen spit on me as I walked in uniform through a crowded market.
Our five-day stop in Copenhagen soon ended and Biddle began the last leg of her around the world cruise. We entered the North Sea then turned north to enter the Atlantic north of the British Isles. As Biddle steamed toward Norfolk, we encountered a nor’easter and the worst seas of the cruise. All activities ceased except critical functions on the bridge, engine rooms, and boiler spaces. I sneaked a peek outside from the 03 level, which is about 60 or 70 feet above the water line, and was looking up at the waves. One second we would lean twenty or thirty degrees to port and a few seconds later we would pitch forward then lean twenty or thirty degrees to starboard. But Bath Iron Works builds great ships and Biddle just kept on steaming for Norfolk.
Finally, after surviving a terrific North Atlantic storm with 50-foot seas, Biddle arrived home. I never thought Norfolk would look good, but I changed my mind as tugs nudged Biddle to the D&S (Destroyer and Submarine) piers. [Almost simultaneous with Biddle’s arrival, the destroyer O’Hare celebrated her arrival from her Middle East cruise by cutting a two-foot gouge into a nearby pier.]
Biddle was awarded the Secretary of the Navy Unit Commendation Citation for her performance in the Gulf of Tonkin on her first deployment. The commendation was awarded not only for her performance as PIRAZ ship, but also for effectively applying “advanced electronic resources and techniques which significantly contributed to the United States air combat operations in Southeast Asia.” That part of the commendation got my attention because it was an area in which Biddle data systems technicians had made a contribution. CNO Admiral Thomas H. Moorer awarded the commendation for the Secretary of the Navy.
Hard Charger! 