James Treadway
Captain Alfred R. Olsen, a 1944 Naval Academy graduate and career cruiser-destroyerman, assumed command of Biddle on 17 September 1968. Biddle was his fifth command at sea, having served in Biloxi (CL-80), Providence (CL-82), Allen M. Sumner (DD-692), and commanded Ouachita County (LST-1071), Lester (DE-1022), John Paul Jones (DDG-32), and Sierra (AD-18).
For the remainder of the year, Biddle enjoyed a period of tender availability, more inspections, and an intense multi-ship missile exercise off Puerto Rico with Dewey (DLG-14), Claude V. Ricketts (DDG-5) and Talbot (DEG-4). Biddle returned to Norfolk on 25 November where she remained on a leave and upkeep status through the holidays and into January.
1969
Returning to Norfolk on 20 January after a family cruise to Yorktown, Virginia, and a five-day port call to Philadelphia, Biddle began preparations for the upcoming WESTPAC deployment. During this time, the AN/SPS-48 radar received a Moving Taget Indicator (MTI) upgrade, which was tested during an evaluation cruise to the Caribbean from 28 March to 1 May. During the cruise, with stops in San Juan, Puerto Rico, and Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, Biddle fired six missiles and passed an Operational Readiness Inspection (ORI) with a grade of excellent.
After nine months of upkeep at Norfolk, Biddle stood out of Norfolk on 26 May 1969 for her second WESTPAC deployment. Forty percent of Biddle’s crew was making their second cruise to the Gulf of Tonkin in less than a year. The AN/SPS 48 MTI upgrade was tested again off the coast of Virginia, then Biddle proceeded to the Panama Canal. Late in the afternoon on 31 May, Biddle entered the first series of locks at Colon, Panama Canal. After anchoring briefly in Gatun Lake and giving the ship a fresh-water bath, Biddle began a night transit of the Canal. Captain Olsen’s Biddlegram #2 describes the passage: “It was a windless, starry night; the temperature was just right; and the ship glided through the ghostly silence, in many areas seemingly just a dozen feet from the bank of the canal. It was what I’d imagine the Garden of Eden would be like – without Eve, of course! As we neared the Pacific end, the channel narrowed and we found the sides of the Canal brightly-lighted with closely-spaced, blue fluorescent lights, just three or four feet high, which made the water glimmer like a mirror.”
After refueling at Rodman Naval Base – no liberty in Balboa this time – Biddle set sail for Hawaii. With only a day and a half liberty in Honolulu, Hawaii was also little more than a refueling stop. Biddlegram #2 describes the transit from Hawaii to Guam then to the Philippines:
We arrived in Apra, the principal harbor of Guam on June 20th and stayed only six hours. The most impressive thing about Guam and the other Mariannas Islands is their height. They rise quickly and sheerly out of the water; all are hilly; some are mountainous. They have a physical presence that most islands don’t have.
In our 3,300 mile voyage between Oahu and Guam, we encountered only a half dozen ships. This is not a commercially profitable route and very few merchant ships make the run. In spite of the width and breadth of the oceans, it is a fact that those paths that ships use are relatively narrow and heavily traveled. The route between Hawaii and Guam is not one of those.
From Guam to the Philippines, we crossed the Philippine Sea and transited San Bernardino Strait, one scene of two of our Navy’s great victories over the Imperial Japanese Navy in World War II. Today these waters are placid, blue and unmarred by the history they have seen. Our port of call in the Philippines was Subic Bay, a snug harbor, protected by rising hills against the wind and sea, and site of a large U.S. Naval Base, which our friends, the Filipinos, permit us to use. [Subsequently, US – Philippine relations changed. We departed our bases at Clark AFB, Subic Bay, and Cubi Point in late 1998 with only occasional official visits since then. (Marfiak)] We had four days here at the end of June to stretch our sea legs and make voyage repairs preparatory to going on-the-line. It was a welcome break in our long voyage.
It was a long voyage indeed – “11,490 miles in 29 days with only two days in port,” according to Biddlegram #2. The spectacular weather encountered in transit would be dearly missed when Biddle narrowly missed typhoon Viola, then encountered seemingly never ending rolling seas, squalls, and heavy rains. Nevertheless, the short stop in Subic did give the crew an opportunity to get off a ship with 400 sailors and enjoy liberty 10,000 miles from home with 10,000 other sailors.
Subic Bay was an essential component of the Navy’s efforts in the Gulf during the Vietnam War. Virtually all Navy ships coming from or going to Vietnam tied up or anchored at Subic Bay for repair, replenishment, rest, and relaxation. Biddle’s 1968 Command History describes Subic “As a base with considerable breadth of services (if not depth), it is also the place where most ships proceeding to or departing from the Vietnam War Zone gird or ungird their coins appropriately.” Most coins were “ungirded” at Olongapo City, which was conveniently located just across the appropriately nicknamed Shit River. Subic’s on-base facilities for R and R were minimal; making Olongapo the only place a sailor or marine could go to have a drink and some fun. There weren’t many rules in Olongapo – you could get just about anything you wanted, or did not want – including dead. More than one sailor or marine was found floating face down in Shit River the next morning. The drinking was heavy, the music was loud, women were available, and fights were common. At least that is what I’ve been told.
Collision at Sea
Three weeks before Biddle arrived at Subic Bay, the WW II destroyer USS Frank E. Evans (DD-754) was cut in half while operating in the South China Sea with the Australian aircraft carrier HMAS Melbourne. Evan’s severed bow section sank in minutes with the loss of 74 lives. The mangled stern stayed afloat and was towed to Subic Bay and placed in dry dock where most of Biddle’s crew saw it. The sight of a destroyer ripped in half was a sobering sight and a reminder that sometimes things go terribly wrong in this business. The stern section was sunk as targets in Subic Bay October 10 1969.
Evans had been on the gun line off the coast of Vietnam before participating in Operation Sea Spirit with Melbourne and four other U.S., British, and New Zealand destroyers. At 0300 hours, Melbourne signaled Evans to assume the position of plane guard 1,000 yards astern of Melbourne – a task that Evans had already performed several times that night. Inexplicably, instead of Evans following established procedure by turning away from Melbourne, Evans turned to port, directly in Melbourne’s path. After the horrendous collision, Melbourne sailors immediately came to the aid of the men aboard Evans by first lowering fire hoses over the side for makeshift ladders then securing Evans alongside with wire cable.
John Stevenson, Melbourne’s commanding officer, recalls the effort to save what was left of the Evans and the men aboard her: “It was all very quick, very chaotic, but organized as far as the Melbourne was concerned. They all knew what they were doing. The stern half of the Evans was secured to the ship, and people hopped over the edge to help survivors back onto Melbourne. This heroic effort by Melbourne’s crew saved the remainder of Evans’ crew.” (Smith)
Visions of the broken, lifeless Evans would soon be recalled by Hard Chargers when Biddle assumed duty as plane guard for the USS Coral Sea (CV-43) at Yankee Station and while we participated in numerous underway replenishments with ships much larger than Biddle. The vision of the broken Evans again materialized when I learned years later that Biddle’s sister ship Belknap had her superstructure removed from the bridge (03 level) and up after striking the USS John F. Kennedy (CV-67) in the Ionian Sea on 22 November 1975. Belknap was rebuilt at the Philadelphia Shipyard and re-commissioned on 10 May 1980. The cost to repair Belknap was $100,000,000, considerably more than it cost to build the ship.
On Station, Gulf of Tonkin
Biddle dropped anchor at Da Nang harbor on 30 June then relieved Chicago at South Search and Rescue (SSAR) on 1 July. Little had changed in the Gulf of Tonkin since her last visit. Like slipping into a comfortable pair of shoes, Biddle assumed familiar duties – SAR and PIRAZ, plus new responsibilities as AAWC at Yankee Station and plane guard for the carrier Coral Sea.
Extended periods on station generally consisted of watches that were 12 hours on and 12 hours off. Sometimes the DS group was so tired after a watch that instead of winding our way a few hundred feet to our berthing space, we slept on thick foam rubber pads conveniently stored behind tall equipment racks in the computer room, directly below CIC. The area was dark and air-conditioned and the chief knew where to find us if we were needed. As an added benefit, in case general quarters was sounded, we could be on station in thirty seconds or less. The hours were long, but Biddle’s data systems technicians in the Computer, Display, and Communications groups kept their respective equipment in a high state of readiness.
Sometimes the Enemy is not the Enemy
Biddle’s Command History stated that on 10 July Biddle and Task Force 77 had evaded typhoon Tess by moving south. Later that month, near the end of Biddle’s first on-line period, typhoon Viola struck the mainland of China near Hong Kong during which Biddle endured three days of steady 30-knot winds out of the west and heavy seas. On the fourth day, we found several North Vietnamese fishermen lost at sea in flimsy bamboo rafts. Biddlegram #2 explains:
…on the fourth morning as the winds began to abate, we came upon a small bamboo raft, 35 to 40 miles at sea, with two North Vietnamese fishermen wearily trying to row to shore; then another with a man and a boy; still another with only one man; and finally one which was empty.
There is a tradition among those who go to sea that regardless of war or peace, we aid those who are in distress – we always pick up survivors. I believe this tradition stems from the fact that even in war, opposing Navies find that the sea is their common enemy. And so in this instance, BIDDLE and a destroyer, which was in company, went alongside each of the rafts and offered the exhausted fishermen water and food. They indicated they had been driven out to sea by the winds and had been unable to fight their way back. When they asked if they could come aboard, realizing they had small chance of surviving otherwise, we let them do so.
An excerpt from the cruise book continues the story: “During a period of high winds and rough seas, Biddle’s helicopter spotted several North Vietnamese fishermen blown out to sea by a storm. In incredibly small rafts, these men had spent several days at sea with very little water and food. Biddle gave them food and water and her shotgun USS Meredith, was instructed to pick them up. A couple of days later, Biddle was instructed to bring the rescued fishermen to Da Nang. There the men were turned over to American Forces. Three months later, in an incident which had large press coverage, the men were given a boat and sent on their way home.”
Relief at SSAR
Chicago relieved Biddle at SSAR on 1 August at which time Biddle departed for Da Nang to deliver the North Vietnamese fishermen to safety. Six days upkeep and liberty in Subic Bay and three days liberty in Manila was the extent of our brief relief from duty in the Gulf. Returning to the Gulf on 15 August, Biddle spent the next month shuttling between SSAR and PIRAZ responsibilities, as indicated by the ship’s log – 15 August – relieved Chicago as SSAR, 22 August – relieved Chicago as PIRAZ, 24 August – relieved Chicago as SSAR, 5 September – relieved Sterett as PIRAZ, 10 September – relieved by Jouett. Undersecretary of the Navy John W. Warner visited the ship on 19 August to present the Meritorious Unit Commendation and pennant in recognition of Biddle’s performance during her 1968 WESTPAC deployment.
Bad weather in the Gulf continued with the arrival of typhoon Doris on 1 September. As she had done in early July, Biddle and Task Force 77 moved to the south and deeper waters to skirt the storm. Back on station on 2 September, Biddle continued her hectic pace at SSAR and PIRAZ until 10 September when she departed the Gulf for Subic Bay, passing close enough to launch our helicopter detachment. Biddle bid the helo detachment sayonara, then headed north for Yokosuka, Japan, for 12 days upkeep and R and R. Many Hard Chargers took advantage of the close proximity of Tokyo to take guided tours or to find a shopping bargain. Departing Yokosuka on 26 September, then crossing typhoon alley without incident, Biddle arrived Subic Bay on 30 September to prepare for her next on-line period.
Hello Haiphong
During Biddle’s third period on-line she saw duty first in a tactical support role with our carriers operating at Yankee Station, then as SSAR and PIRAZ. The following incident occurred on 13 October and is a reminder how far north in the gulf Biddle once was.
On a quiet, calm morning, I stepped outside for some fresh air and noticed that we were dead in the water and surrounded by hundreds of North Vietnamese fishing boats. Generally, we were far enough from shore that spotting a fishing boat was a rare event. So, why was Biddle dead in the water and surrounded by so many fishing boats, and where were we? Clearly, we were somewhere we shouldn’t have been. I did not get an explanation – I assumed that we snuck up there under the cover of darkness and were gathering intelligence about North Vietnamese activities. I had observed that most electronic equipment was turned off, apparently to not reveal our position. Eventually Biddle slowly turned to the south and began to pick up speed. Electronic equipment returned to service, one at a time. As the surface search radar sweep painted the coast of North Vietnam, a clear outline of Haiphong harbor materialized. North Vietnam’s largest port city was just over the horizon. The only other U.S. forces that got that far north were pilots, POWs, and maybe a few submarines. Soon, we were making flank speed south and kicking up a fine rooster tail. As we passed a Russian trawler like it was standing still, my binoculars found a bikini-clad woman on the trawler’s deck. Perhaps being in the Russian navy has its benefits.
While conducting research for Hard Charger! I asked Captain Olsen why Biddle was so close to Haiphong:
I believe it was midway through our third period on PIRAZ station when we received message orders to proceed north with our “shotgun” destroyer under the cover of darkness to patrol off Haiphong, the principal seaport of North Vietnam, during daylight hours the next day, and then return to PIRAZ. The purpose was to accustom the North Vietnamese to U.S. Navy ships moving around the Gulf without hostile intent. It was a tactical maneuver….no intelligence collection was involved. It was a rainy day, no aircraft were airborne and we saw no ships.
Five or six days later, we again received similar message orders, except that we were to patrol off Haiphong for 24 hours. This time we detected 20 or so military aircraft practicing touch-and-go landings during daylight hours. They knew we were there and were careful not to fly out over the Gulf. We encountered one large Soviet merchant ship departing Haiphong. After several challenges by flashing light, she identified herself and said she was en route to Vladivostok. We later learned that the North Vietnamese had received 90 per cent of the military support they needed by sea and from the Soviets.
I do recall the phenomenon of hundreds of fishing boats coming out after dark, possibly from the island of the Hainan, their black hulls silhouetted against the horizon. We kept them at a distance to preclude a torpedo boat or similar high-speed craft threading its way out of the pack and making a run on us. But I’m not sure whether this happened only during our two northern sorties or whether we saw them on other occasions at PIRAZ station.
Later, Captain Olsen explored his personal records with the following results: “I have found my ‘Night Order Book.’ It confirms that we twice relocated SSAR northward on the evenings of 13 and 20-21 October. The purpose was ‘to accustom the North Vietnamese to our peaceful movement in the northern part of the Gulf of Tonkin.’ Not to incite them to action. Concerning fishing junks, I found them to be an on-and-off happening. Not every night. I specifically mentioned numerous fishing junks in our vicinity in early September and again when we relocated to the North 20-21 October. They were numerous, dead in the water and making only two-three knots.“
A Blackbird’s Brief Appearance
One day (or was it night?) while checking one of the display consoles in CIC I noticed a single radar “blip” just north of the DMZ. On the next sweep, about 10 seconds later, the unknown and untagged target had moved almost ten miles north towards Hanoi. At first I thought it was false echoes or multiple targets popping up in different places. It was quickly evident that this was not a normal target – it covered the distance from the DMZ to Hanoi at 3,000 miles an hour. We had heard there was a top-secret plane operating in the area but we didn’t know what it was called. Even the super-fast RC-5A Vigilante was not that fast. Later we learned it was a SR-71 Blackbird operating out of Kadena air base in Okinawa. When the still unknown blip reached the border with China, it just kept on going, knowing nothing could touch it at 80,000 feet.
SR-71s were tracked several times by Biddle’s radar. Bob Gerity recalled a similar encounter with a Blackbird: “The SR-71 incident occurred on my watch and was first sighted by RD2 Mullen, I believe, coming down from China. We put an ‘unknown’ symbol on him and AW (Alpha Whiskey was Task Force 77) quickly told us to drop that track.”
Nuclear cruiser Long Beach relieved Biddle at northern picket stations on 27 October, ending Biddle’s month-long visit to the Gulf. Biddle made the short journey to the British Crown Colony of Hong Kong for six full days of liberty. For those who had enjoyed Hong Kong during Biddle’s first WESTPAC deployment, this port call was a wonderful opportunity to see new sights, buy more hand-made suits, and try to find that watering hole down that narrow street off the beaten track in the Wan-Chai district. Or was it in Kowloon?
Plane Guard, USS Coral Sea
Biddle departed Honk Kong on 4 November for a brief refueling visit in Subic Bay, and then headed back to the Gulf. From 7 November to 13 November, Biddle assumed plane guard duty with Coral Sea, which required Biddle to maintain a position approximately 1,000 yards astern when planes were launched or recovered. After completing their sorties over North Vietnam, landing planes used Biddle’s position as a marker when turning base leg to final approach. The plane’s near ninety degree bank directly over Biddle allowed shipboard observers to peek inside the cockpit. When in this position at reduced throttle, a Phantom’s intake compressor makes a distinctive, eerie moan that sent shivers down my spine. Occasionally I could see flak damage, fluids leaking from holes in the wing, or smoke escaping from inside the fuselage. When the plane leveled off, the final approach and landing could be followed with large binoculars on the bridge wings. The symphony of thunder and light as the plane slammed into the heaving deck and the violence of the landing was truly remarkable.
Victor Hanson accurately captured a scene few have a chance to experience: “The skill and courage of pilots have transformed the nightmarish — and, frankly, terrifying to watch — ordeal of receiving and launching planes on a rolling deck into a routine, albeit a deadly one. A half-century history of training and the tragic lessons learned from hundreds of deaths in peace and war have all honed pilots’ skills to a fine art. These men risk destruction daily — to make less money than a middling college professor. They call “sporty” what we call terrifying. An empty ocean, jet fuel, sparks, heavy metal, and speed, after all, do not exactly combine to make a safe environment.”(Hansen)
WESTPAC II – Mission Accomplished
Biddle made four appearances in the Gulf of Tonkin during her second WESTPAC deployment with each appearance punctuated by calls to the ports of Manila, Philippines; to the familiar ports of Yokosuka, Japan, and Hong Kong; and finally to San Francisco. Biddle landed 439 helicopters, conducted 168 fighter intercepts, and rescued survivors from 27 downed aircraft (Boslaugh 355.) On 13 November, her last day on-line, Biddle logged her 700th helicopter landing, then started the long voyage home.
The weather had ranged from delightful to frightful – which is not unexpected when traveling the world’s oceans. Enroute to San Francisco, Biddle received “Smooth sailing” wishes from Vice Admiral W. F. Bringle, Commander Seventh Fleet, and Rear Admiral H. H. Anderson, Commander Cruiser-Destroyer Group Seventh Fleet. Referencing the Admiral’s wishes, Biddlegram #7 made the following remarks concerning the transit:
Having spent considerable time in the Pacific, Admiral Bringle and Admiral Anderson knew very well the hazards of crossing this vast ocean in the late Fall and so their wishes for “smooth sailing” were understood and appreciated. As our 14-day voyage to San Francisco developed, we were indeed fortunate. After the first two days out of Guam, the wind moderated and then, veered until it was abaft our beam. After that, we rolled a bit, but never plowed into the seas. We crossed ahead of the high winds that hit Hawaii in early December and so, had much to be thankful for when we picked up the California coast on our radar.
December is a transitional month in San Francisco. The weather is uncertain. A heavy, dense fog often develops in the morning and persists until afternoon. The rainy season is about to begin. Again we were lucky. We were requested to arrive at the Golden Gate Bridge before sunrise to take advantage of favorable tidal conditions in the Bay. As we approached the coast in the dark and were still well to seaward, we could see the lights of the Bridge! There was no fog! We passed underneath at 6 a.m. without difficulty.
As we steamed into the Bay, there was the Island of Alcatraz, its Federal Prison closed and dark, illuminated only by the large lighthouse that marks its location. Stretching out as far as the eye could see was the San Francisco – Oakland Bay Bridge, three and one-half miles long. Finally, we could see the hills of San Francisco rising up from the water’s edge and covered with lights.
San Francisco wasn’t home, but it was a lot closer than we had been in many months – we were in the right country but the wrong coast. After three days liberty and outstanding fall weather, we were ready to get underway for the final leg of our 55,300-mile cruise. On 8 December, with Christmas rapidly approaching, the light rain we encountered as we carefully negotiated our way out of San Francisco Bay could not dampen our spirits. That would happen a few days later when, while refueling at Rodman Naval Base at Balboa, Panama, Biddle was informed that some locks in Gatun were out of commission and our transit would be delayed. Damn!
We started our early evening transit anyway and anchored several hours later at Gatun Lake during yet another heavy rain. Finally, after another fresh water bath late in the afternoon on the next day, Biddle entered the first series of locks that would eventually raise her to the same level as the Caribbean. At last, Biddle would face no more obstacles, other than time, in getting home.
This WESTPAC deployment we learned that Biddle was the recipient of the Surface-to-Air Missile Systems “Excellence Award” for DLGs in the Atlantic Fleet. Also, Admiral Ephraim Holmes, Commander in Chief of the Atlantic Fleet, informed Biddle that she was awarded her second Meritorious Unit Commendation. So, after a 209-day cruise during which we were at sea 80% of the time, a proud, but tired, Biddle gently nudged D and S piers at Norfolk, on time. As I gazed over the crowd greeting Biddle at the pier, I saw my tired, but proud mom who had just driven 1,500 miles alone to see her two sons arrive home safely.
Hard Charger! 