In the Collection: Life Vest and Mess Kit from the Second World War

By Toni Deetz Rock
Deputy Director/Curator

In 2013, the Hampton Roads Naval Museum accessioned an interesting artifact into our collections. We accepted a life vest and mess kit (2013.007.213.1). The two artifacts are set in a shadowbox and the plaque reads, “USED BY MAURY A. NOTCH / A SURVIVOR OF THE USS HORNET / 10-26-42 / ALSO SURVIVED USS PRINCETON / 10-24-44.”

Maury A. Notch survived two ship sinkings with these items, his U.S. Navy-issued life vest and mess kit. (HRNM)

The life vest is a design known as a “Mae West.” The design includes a lightweight rubberized outer casing, and canisters of gas activate when needed to inflate synthetic bladders in the interior. Straps are located in strategic places to keep the vest in place during use. Peter Markus, an American business owner from Minnesota and an avid boater, patented the design in 1928. Markus intended to create a more comfortable life vest. He recognized that many people avoided wearing the older kapok or cork models because they were extremely bulky and restricted physical movement.

The U.S. and British military quickly adopted the model patented by Markus. The U.S. Navy made one adaptation to the original design: the Navy began producing the vests in a bright yellow color. The bright color would allow rescue teams to spot survivors more easily in open water. Navy fliers were the first to adopt the use of these vests, followed quickly by all other services. Although the life vest was highly profitable before WWII, Markus cancelled his patent, allowing the U.S. Government to produce the vests without paying additional royalties.

This hand-written label, "M A Notch," identifies the owner of the life vest, CAPT Maury A. Notch, USN, SC, Ret. (HRNM)

These life vests saved countless U.S. lives during the Second World War. One striking example is this specific life vest, which stood witness to at least two significant events of WWII. It is marked with the name “M A Notch” and is stamped with the manufacture date of June 1942. The bottom of the mess canister has a handwritten note, which reads, “USED THIS AS A / SURVIVOR OFF / USS HORNET OCT 26 ’42 / NOOMEA, NEW CALEDONIA.” Noumea, New Caledonia, was a critical supply stop in the South Pacific during WWII.

The mess kit is labelled to commemorate the sinking of the USS Hornet (CV 8) on October 26, 1942. (HRNM)

USS Hornet (CV 8) is known for launching the Doolittle Raid on Tokyo and participating in the Battle of Midway. During the Solomon Islands Campaign, Hornet participated in the Battle of the Santa Cruz Islands. There, Japanese torpedoes and dive bombers damaged Hornet badly, and the ship eventually sank. USS Hornet remains on the ocean floor, and until recently, the ship’s exact location was unknown. It was located in 2019 near the Solomon Islands. Maury Notch was deployed on Hornet at the time it was sunk, and he was among the Sailors who evacuated to safety.

Two years later, almost to the day, Notch was aboard USS Princeton (CVL 23). Princeton supported the occupation of Baker Island and conducted strikes on Makin and Tarawa the same month. In October 1944, at the Battle of Leyte Gulf, the Japanese attacked USS Princeton. Princeton burned for so long and so brightly that the U.S. Navy torpedoed the ship to keep it from being a beacon to the enemy.

We do not know much about Maury Notch’s career. We do know he was a Supply Corps officer, survived both sinkings, and retired with the rank of Captain. More research into his time aboard both ships is still needed. This set of artifacts stands as witness not only to Maury Notch’s experience, but to the experience of hundreds of U.S. Sailors in the Pacific during World War II. 

When Caroline Kennedy Last Christened a Ship in the Name of Her Father

A page from the USS John F. Kennedy (CVA 67) christening program contained in the Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy Onassis Personal Papers held by the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum.

By M.C. Farrington
HRNM Historian

There have been a number of new aircraft carriers that carried on the names of their predecessors: names such as Yorktown (CV 5 & CV 10), Hornet (CV 8 & CV 12), Lexington (CV 2 & CV 16), Wasp (CV 7 & CV 18) and Enterprise (CV 6 & CVN 65).  These were vessels named to commemorate great American victories or storied vessels of the past.  As time has gone on, the names of presidents and other notable figures in naval history have been added to new American flattops joining the fleet.  However, no president's name has been carried forward from an old carrier to a new one.*

On December 7, 2019, at Newport News Shipbuilding, a new American carrier was christened with the name of a president from a previous carrier for the very first time.  And, in what might be another first, the new carrier was christened by the same person who christened the old one at the same shipyard over 52 years ago.
Another detail of the ceremony turned out to be remarkably consistent with that person's first performance on May 27, 1967.

Caroline Kennedy, President John F. Kennedy's daughter, former ambassador to Japan, and sponsor of the Ford-class aircraft carrier USS John F. Kennedy (CVN 79), christens the ship on December 7, 2019. USS John F. Kennedy (CVN 79) was christened at Huntington Ingalls Industries' Newport News Shipbuilding (HII-NNS) division, in Newport News, Virginia. The aircraft carrier is named after John Fitzgerald Kennedy, the 35th president of the United States, who served in office from January 1961 to November 1963. This is the second U.S. aircraft carrier named for President Kennedy, with the former being the last conventionally powered carrier, CV-67, which served from 1968 to 2007. (U.S. Navy photo 191207-N-PG550-1463 by Mass Communication Specialist 3rd Class Samuel Lee Pederson/Released)

You might have read that Caroline Kennedy didn't quite score a clean break on the first try with a bottle of "American sparkling wine" on the bow of the new ship on December 7.  This was a clear-cut case of history repeating.  But why was she selected to christen USS John F. Kennedy (CVA 67) in the first place, when she was just nine years old?  The decision had as much to do with naval custom as it had to do with tragedy.

Lieutenant John F. Kennedy, USNR, (standing, far right) with other crewmen onboard USS PT-109 at a South Pacific Naval Base, 1943. (U.S. Information Agency Photograph 306-ST-649-9, now in the collections of the National Archives)

As a lieutenant junior grade during World War II, her father John Fitzgerald Kennedy fought bravely in the Pacific, sustaining serious injuries after the PT boat under his command was rammed by a Japanese destroyer in 1943.  After his meteoric rise after the war as a congressman and, later, senator from the state of Massachusetts, he edged out Vice President (and fellow former naval officer) Richard Nixon for the presidency in November 1960.  After a tumultuous tenure as president, during which he authorized naval assets to secretly support Cuban exiles attempting to invade and overthrow the Communist government of Cuba and later ordered a naval quarantine of the island when the Soviets secretly put troops and tactical nuclear missiles there in response, Kennedy was assassinated on November 22, 1963 in Dallas, leaving Vice President Lyndon Baines Johnson (yet another former naval officer) as commander-in-chief.

Kennedy was unquestionably not afraid to put the Navy he led into harm's way, but he was also a strong advocate of the service.  After his death, President Johnson led the effort to name a modified Kitty Hawk-class carrier, authorized for construction during his predecessor's administration, for the fallen leader.  The keel for USS John F. Kennedy (CVA 67) was laid on October 22, 1964.  

As a matter of custom, as the carrier was nearing completion a significant member of President Kennedy's family would be invited to christen the vessel.

(Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy Onassis Personal Papers/ John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum)

In February 1967, Secretary of the Navy Paul Nitze sent Jacqueline Kennedy an invitation to sponsor the new carrier.  "Traditionally, a lady sponsors only one Navy ship; however, there have been exceptions to this custom," wrote Nitze.  "Though you christened the Polaris submarine, USS  LAFAYETTE, I am sure that I express the sentiment of the entire navy in urging you to christen the new carrier.  Should you prefer, your daughter, Caroline, may be designated."

In happier times: White House naval aide Capt. Tazewell T. Shepard and General Dynamics executive Roger Lewis look on as First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy christens USS Lafayette (SSBN 616) May 8, 1962 at Electric Boat, General Dynamics, in Groton, Connecticut. (Library of Congress via Naval History and Heritage Command/Flickr)

Indeed, Jacqueline Kennedy had christened USS Lafayette (SSBN 616) at General Dynamics Electric Boat shipyard in Groton, Connecticut, May 8, 1962. Less than two years later, however, her life, and the course of the nation's history, had been irrevocably changed by the assassination of her husband.  That tragic change impacted the way she felt towards attending another such event.

(Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy Onassis Personal Papers/ John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum)

In an early draft of the response Mrs. Kennedy sent Secreatry Nitze, she wrote, "That type of thing [the christening], remembering my husband, is very difficult for me."   But she then assured Nitze that someone from President Kennedy's family would attend the christening.

Overcoming her grief, Mrs. Kennedy decided upon having her daughter Caroline sponsor the ship, and on the morning of May 27, 1967, she accompanied the little girl and her son John F. Kennedy Jr. (along with approximately 15 immediate family members and their families) to the Newport News Shipbuilding and Dry Dock company.   

Writing for the Virginian-Pilot newspaper published in Norfolk, Virginia, reporter William K. Stevens observed, "Not since the 1963 funeral [of John F. Kennedy] had so many New Frontiersmen and relatives of John F. Kennedy been in one place at one time." Richard Cardinal Cushing, Archbishop of Boston, the same man who had blessed John F. Kennedy's marriage to Jacqueline L. Bouvier in 1953, given the invocation during his inauguration in 1961, and celebrated his funeral mass in 1963, was there to give the invocation for the christening.   

Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara escorts Jacqueline Kennedy, her son John Kennedy Jr., and her daughter Caroline (behind her brother) after arriving at Newport News Shipbuilding on May 27, 1967 (Newport News Shipbuilding photograph/ Hampton Roads Naval Museum collection)

Caroline Kennedy was hardly the first in her family to christen a ship at the mammoth shipyard on the James River.  Her paternal grandmother Rose Kennedy had sponsored the Cimarron-class fleet oiler SS Esso Richmond at Newport News Shipbuilding in September 1939 (which was commissioned USS Kaskaskia (AO 27) the following year), and her aunt Patricia Kennedy had sponsored the President Jackson-class attack transport President Polk (AP 103) in June 1941. Another aunt, Ethel Kennedy (wife of then-Attorney General Robert F. Kennedy) had sponsored the Ethan Allen-class ballistic missile submarine John Marshall (SSBN 611) in May 1961.

Caroline Kennedy prepares to swing a bottle of champagne into the bow of the aircraft carrier John F. Kennedy (CVA 67) at Newport News Shipbuilding under the guidance of Shipyard President Donald A. Holden on May 27, 1967 (Newport News Shipbuilding photograph/ Hampton Roads Naval Museum collection)

In a ceremony timed down to the second, three warning whistles were to sound; the first a siren scheduled for 12:25 pm, with a whistle 30 seconds later and another 20 seconds after that.  With each siren or whistle blast, one of JFK's three initials would appear in lights on a giant board affixed to the bow.  Caroline was scheduled to smash the bottle against an angular protuberance affixed to the bow precisely on the third whistle blast scheduled for 12:26.

"Caroline, 9, stood in front of the bow of the mammoth attack aircraft carrier John F. Kennedy like a left-handed little leaguer at home plate," wrote Virginian-Pilot reporter Shirley Bolinaga, who was among the throngs of local and national news media to cover the event. 

As John Kennedy Jr. and Jacqueline Kennedy watch as Newport News Shipbuilding President Donald A. Holden helps Caroline Kennedy christen the carrier John F. Kennedy (CVA 67). (Newport News Shipbuilding photograph/ Hampton Roads Naval Museum collection)

The clock photographed behind the participants on the platform indicates that the event was running ahead of schedule, with Caroline taking her first swing at 12:09 and 55 seconds, and, unless a video of the event accessible online has been edited incorrectly, she attempted to break the bottle after the second blast. 

John Kennedy Jr. and Jacqueline Kennedy seem to react with dismay as Caroline Kennedy appears to have momentary trouble christening the carrier John F. Kennedy (CVA 67). (Newport News Shipbuilding photograph/ Hampton Roads Naval Museum collection)

"She held the bottle of Great Western champagne like a baseball bat and swung from the shoulder," wrote Bolinaga. "It hit with a clunk but it didn't break." 

After the bottle bounced off the angular rail affixed to the bow, Caroline tried again, striking home about three seconds later, sending bubbly in all directions, and sending the great ship into the James River.   

Caroline Kennedy christens the carrier John F. Kennedy (CVA 67) as her brother John Kennedy Jr., mother Jacqueline Kennedy, and Newport News Shipbuilding President Donald A. Holden react. (Newport News Shipbuilding photograph/ Hampton Roads Naval Museum collection)

"On the second try, the bottle, beribboned with red, white, and blue, shattered. Its bubbly contents splashed all over Caroline's aqua and white dress and red shoes, and splattered on her mother as Mrs. Jacqueline Kennedy clapped her gloved hands together in front of her face," wrote Bolinaga.  "The mother and her children watched as the 61,450-ton ship was floated from Shipway 11 into the James River." 

Jacqueline Kennedy, her brother John Kennedy Jr., and daughter Caroline Kennedy watch the carrier John F. Kennedy (CVA 67) as she backs away from the christening platform. Note Newport News Shipbuilding President Donald A. Holden pointing out details to Caroline, who has just christened the vessel. (Newport News Shipbuilding photograph/ Hampton Roads Naval Museum collection)

Watched by thousands of guests and dignitaries such as President Lyndon B. Johnson, Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara and Secretary of the Navy Paul Nitze, the carrier John F. Kennedy (CVA 67) backs away from the christening platform at Newport News Shipbuilding and Dry Dock Company in Newport News, Virginia, on May 27, 1967. Note the board affixed to the bow spelling out the initials "J.F.K.," emulating John F. Kennedy's handwriting in electric lights. (Newport News Shipbuilding photograph/ Hampton Roads Naval Museum collection)

The aircraft carrier John F. Kennedy (CVA 67) backs away from the christening platform at Newport News Shipbuilding and Dry Dock Company in Newport News, Virginia on May 27, 1967, as thousands of guests and dignitaries such as President Lyndon B. Johnson, Senators Robert. F. (Bobby) and Edward M. (Ted) Kennedy as well as Virginia Governor Mills E. Godwin look on. (Newport News Shipbuilding photograph/ Hampton Roads Naval Museum collection)

After her commissioning on September 7, 1968, USS John. F. Kennedy, the Navy's last conventionally-powered carrier, plunged headlong into the Cold War that dominated foreign policy during her namesake's administration, and those of the next four presidential administrations. Caroline Kennedy visited the ship at least once more during its active service, the first time when the carrier visited Boston in 1970.

Seen from an American escort, a Soviet Tu-95 Bear D maritime reconnaissance aircraft makes a close approach to USS John F. Kennedy (CVA 67) during her first foray into the Mediterranean in 1969.  (National Archives and Records Administration via Naval History and Heritage Command/Flickr)

The signing of the Paris Peace Accords in 1973 deprived Kennedy of a scheduled wartime deployment to Southeast Asia and a place in the history of the Vietnam War, but the carrier participated in continuous exercises and operations through war and peace, the last being during Operation Iraqi Freedom, with frequent visits and yard periods in Hampton Roads in between, until her decommissioning in 2007.  

A port bow view of the aircraft carrier USS John F. Kennedy (CV 67) coming down the Elizabeth River after leaving Norfolk Naval Shipyard on August 17, 1987. (Photographer's Mate 1st Class McCoy, National Archives and Records Administration image 330-CFD-DN-SC-88-05873 via Naval History and Heritage Command/Flickr)

Long after CV 67 was struck from the Naval Vessel Register in 2009, Caroline Kennedy was very much in active government service, having been appointed as ambassador to Japan by President Barak Obama, a post she held from 2013 to 2017.

U.S. Ambassador to Japan Caroline Kennedy pilots Naval Beach Unit Seven's Landing Craft, Air Cushion (LCAC) during a visit to NBU-7 Facilities in Sasebo, Japan, on October 7, 2016. The visit is part of a larger trip to Nagasaki Prefecture. (U.S. Navy Photo 161007-N-NY430-042 by Petty Officer 3rd Class Kristopher S. Haley via Naval History and Heritage Command/Flickr)

Although, sadly, her mother Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, who died of cancer in 1994, and her brother John F. Kennedy Jr., who died while flying his plane to Martha's Vineyard in 1999, were not there to witness it, Ambassador Caroline Kennedy once again visited Hampton Roads to take her place in christening a vessel that will represent her family, her father, and the nation he led, far into the future. 

"Christened by the hand of a child," said Secretary of Defense Robert. S. McNamara in his prepared remarks for the day of the original John F. Kennedy's commissioning over 52 years ago, "it will begin an odyssey whose final landfall we cannot clearly foretell."   



* Two American aircraft carriers were named for aviation pioneer Samuel Pierpoint Langley: USS Langley (CV 1), converted from the collier Jupiter at Norfolk Navy Yard between 1920-22, and USS Langley (CVL 27), an Independence-class light carrier, commissioned in 1943. USS Wright (CVL 49) was another Independence-class carrier constructed during World War II, but she was named for both brothers, whereas the previous USS Wright (AZ 1/AV 1), which served in several different aviation support roles after its commissioning in 1921, was only named for Orville Wright.

USS John F. Kennedy appears as CVA 67 in the early part of the story and CV 67 later on. The designation was changed in 1974.

Philadelphia-born Astronaut Pete Conrad was a ‘Hoot,’ and a Great Pilot

 On August 29, 1965, Astronaut Charles "Pete" Conrad Jr. is hoisted up to a Navy helicopter while astronaut L. Gordon Cooper Jr. waits in a life raft below after the splashdown of the Gemini-5 spacecraft. (NASA Photograph S65-51659)

By Steve Milner
Contributing Writer

I didn’t know astronaut Pete Conrad very well when I worked at Cape Canaveral and Kennedy space Center. I’d see him training for his various space missions, or relaxing somewhere in the Florida Spaceport area. Regardless of the location, he was always approachable and friendly during those times.  

I was contracted to the NASA Public Affairs Office for about eight years. And among my editorial duties was writing most of the Apollo mission photo captions in real-time–from training through splashdown and saw different aspects of Conrad and his Apollo 12 crew, Dick Gordon and Alan Bean. But Conrad and I did have some things in common: We were both from Philadelphia–he was from the up-scale Main Line and I grew up “across the tracks” in less-affluent South Philadelphia; we were both five-foot-six inches tall, bald; and looked a little alike from a distance. But that’s where the similarities ended—he flew jet planes and spacecraft, and I get dizzy on a Ferris wheel.

Astronaut Alan L. Bean, lunar module pilot, is assisted with egressing the Apollo 12 Command Module by a U.S. Navy underwater demolition team swimmer during recovery operations in the Pacific Ocean on November 24, 1969. Already in the life raft are astronauts Charles "Pete" Conrad Jr., commander; and Richard F. Gordon Jr., command module pilot. The three crewmen of the second lunar landing mission were picked up by recovery helicopter and flown to the prime recovery ship, USS Hornet (CVS 12). The Apollo 12 splashdown occurred at 2:58 p.m. (CST), November 24, 1969, near American Samoa. While astronauts Conrad and Bean descended in the Lunar Module (LM) "Intrepid" to explore the Ocean of Storms region of the moon, astronaut Gordon remained with the Command and Service Modules (CSM) "Yankee Clipper" in lunar orbit. (NASA Photograph S69-22265 via Naval History and Heritage Command Photo Curator Flickr)

The recovery ship USS Hornet (CVS 12) hoists the Apollo Twelve Command Module aboard. The spacecraft splashed down less than three miles from the anti-submarine support carrier in the Pacific Ocean, southeast of the island of Samoa, on November 24, 1969. (Naval History and Heritage Command image)

Drawing, Pencil on Paper; by Paul D. Ortlip of the Apollo 12 Command Module being hoisted aboard the anti-submarine support carrier Hornet after its successful return from the moon on November 24, 1969. (Navy Art Collection)

Rear Admiral Donald C. David, Commander, Manned Spacecraft Recovery Force, Pacific, welcomes the crew of  Apollo 12 aboard USS Hornet (CVS 12) on November 24, 1969.  Inside the Mobile Quarantine Facility are (left to right) astronauts Charles "Pete" Conrad, Jr., mission commander; Richard F. Gordon, Jr., command module pilot; and Alan L. Bean, lunar module pilot. Note the "Three More, Like Before" sign where "Hornet +3" was posted after the Apollo 11 mission. After Apollo 14, the requirement for returning astronauts to be quarantined was lifted. (NASA Photo S69-22876 via Naval History and Heritage Command Photo Curator/ Flickr)

Admiral Thomas H. Moorer, Chief of Naval Operations, (left), accepts his personal flag from the three Apollo 12 astronauts who carried it with them during the moon mission.  Admiral Moorer also presented them with the Distinguished Service Medal.  Left to right: Captain Charles "Pete" Conrad, Captain Richard Gordon and Captain Alan Bean.  (U.S. Navy photograph 428-GX-USN 1042856, now in the collections of the National Archives via Naval History and Heritage Command Photo Curator Flickr)

Conrad was a well-known jokester when he wanted to be, but certainly was a highly skilled, cool-headed pilot, whether he was flying a fighter jet on earth or a spacecraft a quarter-of-a-million miles away in space. When I saw a huge lightning bolt strike his Apollo 12 Saturn V rocket while it was lifting off from Kennedy Space Center’s Complex 39A, on November 14, 1969, and heard his calm radio transmissions when he reported on-board situational reports to Mission Control, I knew he was the perfect guy to handle that unforeseen and potentially dangerous situation. Fortunately, Apollo 12 was a successful lunar mission.

Steve Milner and Charles "Pete" Conrad after Conrad spoke at the Virginia Air and Space Center in Hampton, Virginia, about 1994. (Photo by Pete Westerman/ Courtesy of Steve Milner)

Fast forward about 25 years from that dreary launch day. After I had relocated in our local Virginia area, I saw Conrad for the next and last time. He had given a talk at the Hampton Air & Space Center, where his Apollo 12 spacecraft is still exhibited. After this event he and I reminisced briefly about Cape days. At that time, he kindly signed a photo I had brought with me of his Skylab Workshop being transported to the Spaceport’s Complex 39A in 1973. He died at 69, following a motorcycle accident in California in 1999.

Apollo 12 Command Module Pilot Richard Gordon talks with blog post author Steve Milner's wife Enid during a Manned Flight Awareness event on January 30, 1971, the evening before Apollo 14 was launched to the moon with astronauts Alan Shepard, Stuart Roosa, and Edgar Mitchell.  The event was held to honor personnel for their contributions to the space program. (Courtesy of Steve Milner)

Years earlier I, and other honorees, socialized with his Gemini 11 and Apollo 12 crewmate, Dick Gordon, when he greeted us at NASA’s Manned Flight Awareness reception on January 30, 1971. It was held in Cocoa Beach, Florida, the night before the launch of Apollo 14 astronauts Alan Shepard, Stuart Roosa and Edgar Mitchell to the moon. I was pleased to be my company’s Spaceport honoree, based on my work performance. Gordon was friendly to honorees and their families and spent time individually with everyone, thanking us for our contributions to the nation’s space program. Other astronauts and celebrities attended this event. Honorees and their guests watched the launch of Apollo 14 the next day from the Spaceport’s VIP site, along with then President Richard Nixon. While my wife attended the VIP site, I had to work on launch day, documenting and writing related NASA photo captions. This task began with photos of the astronauts’ breakfast activities, their suiting up for their flight, their transfer to the launch pad, their entering their spacecraft and, finally, to their launch on a Saturn V rocket at the start of their mission to the moon.

(Courtesy of Steve Milner)

Even though these events took place 50 years ago, I still recall them vividly. And I’ve always been grateful to have had a front-row seat, and be part of an aspect of America’s important history as it unfolded.

Editor's Note: In addition to serving as public affairs officer for 17 years at Norfolk Naval Shipyard, Steve Milner was also a public affairs contractor with the National Aeronautics and Space Administration at Cape Canaveral during the manned Gemini, Apollo and Skylab programs.

Fifty Years Ago: Apollo 11 was a Tough Act to Follow, but Apollo 12 Made a Pinpoint Lunar Landing

Astronaut Charles "Pete" Conrad begins descending the ladder from the Apollo XII lunar module "Intrepid" in this photograph taken by lunar module pilot Alan Bean on November 19, 1969.  (Apollo film magazine 46Y/ Project Apollo Archive)

By Steve Milner
Contributing Writer

“Whoopie! Man, that might have been one small step for Neil (Armstrong), but it was a long one for me.”

So said astronaut Charles “Pete” Conrad, Jr. as he slowly descended the ladder of the Apollo 12 lunar module, call sign Intrepid, on November 19, 1969, becoming the third person to walk on the moon’s surface 50 years ago.

In this official portrait of the prime crew of the Apollo 12 lunar landing mission taken in September 1969 we see (from left) Mission Commander Charles "Pete" Conrad Jr., Command Module pilot, Richard F. Gordon Jr. and Lunar Module pilot Alan L. Bean. The Apollo 12 mission was the second lunar landing mission in which the third and fourth American astronauts, both naval officers, set foot upon the Moon. (NASA on the Commons image S69-38852)

As planned, Apollo astronauts Pete Conrad and Alan Bean landed their lunar module (background) about 600 feet from the Surveyor 3 spacecraft, launched to the moon two years earlier. On their second extravehicular activity (EVA-2) conducted on November 20, 1969, they removed some components for study on earth. (Project Apollo Archive)

Unlike Apollo 11, which missed its primary landing site, Apollo 12 touched down precisely as planned in the “Ocean of Storms,” about 600 feet from the unmanned Surveyor 3 spacecraft that had landed on the lunar surface two-and-a-half years earlier. The astronauts brought back some of Surveyor’s parts to earth for specialists to examine how well they withstood this harsh environment. While Apollo 11 named its landing site, “Tranquility Base,” Apollo 12 astronauts didn’t designate a catchy name for theirs, other than to refer to it as the geological, cratered “Ocean of Storms.”

The official crew insignia for Apollo 12, the United States' second lunar landing mission. The clipper ship signifies that the crew is all Navy and symbolically relates the era of the clipper ship to the era of space flight. The portion of the moon shown is representative of the Ocean of Storms area in which Apollo 12 will land. (NASA illustration)

Lunar Module Pilot Alan Lavern Bean, nicknamed “Beano,” had followed Conrad to the surface, while Command Module Pilot, Richard Francis Gordon, Jr. orbited overhead in their mother ship, call sign “Yankee Clipper.” Here, he would orbit the moon alone 45 times while keeping “Yankee Clipper” on target to receive his crewmates after their lunar stay.

The huge 363-foot tall Apollo 12 space vehicle (Spacecraft 108/Lunar Module 6/ Saturn 507) lifts off from Pad A, Launch Complex 39, Kennedy Space Center at 11:22 a.m. on November 14, 1969.  The lightening strike that hit the space vehicle moments after launch was not captured in this image. (NASA on the Commons/ Image S69-58564)

Apollo 12 started on a rough, potentially dangerous launch from Kennedy Space Center on November 14, 1969. I can still see that incredibly long lightning strike as I watched it hit their Saturn V rocket at T+36 seconds, as it rose slowly skyward during a rainstorm. I wondered then why NASA had launched Apollo 12 in marginal weather conditions. At that time, some felt that this launch proceeded that day because then-President Richard Nixon was watching its liftoff at the Spaceport’s VIP site, three-and-a-half miles from Launch Complex 39A, and NASA didn’t want to disappoint him. I hoped that wasn’t the case; that the Space Agency would have jeopardized the astronauts’ safety for political reasons.

Dr. Thomas Paine, NASA Administrator, shields the First Lady, Mrs. Pat Nixon, from rain while the President and daughter Tricia, foreground, watch Apollo 12 pre-launch activities at the Kennedy Space Center viewing area on November 14, 1969. Following the successful liftoff, the President congratulated the launch crew from within the control center. (NASA photo courtesy of Steve Milner)

This lightning strike, measuring the length of the 36-story space vehicle, also struck and damaged its launch pad. Conrad correctly deduced later that as the Saturn V lifted off, it had trailed a column of flame and ionized gases that stretched to the ground, becoming the world’s longest lightning rod.

After the successful launch of Apollo 12, President Richard Nixon congratulates NASA and contractor personnel within the spaceport's Launch Control Center. (NASA photo courtesy of Steve Milner)

When this anomaly occurred, numerous spacecraft panel lights flashed simultaneously, signaling that critical systems aboard the Apollo 12 command module weren’t functioning and were damaged. Neither the astronauts nor their ground controllers had seen as many warning lights activated at the same time in their training mission simulators.

Not only did Apollo 12 have an all-Navy flight crew, but the Navy's Atlantic Fleet Manned Space Recovery Force (CTF-140) was dedicated to their survival. From their headquarters in Washington DC, Chief Warrant Officer James D. Parker of Pequot, Minnesota, and Lieutenant Carl J. Newberg of Hinsdale, Illinois, monitor mission reports from ships and aircraft of the Atlantic Fleet. (National Archives and Records Administration via Naval History and Heritage Command)

Despite this unexpected and scary situation, the flight crew reacted calmly and quickly, troubleshooting these anomalies, which included mostly false readouts. Fortunately, the lightning strike didn’t activate the Spacecraft’s launch escape system, (LES). If this had happened, it would have jettisoned their spacecraft away from its launch vehicle, and the spacecraft would have been, hopefully, carried by parachute to the ground, scrubbing the lunar mission. But the space vehicle continued safely to earth orbit. A second lighting strike also hit the Saturn V while it was en route to earth orbit.

Seen from the command module "Yankee Clipper," the lunar module "Intrepid" orients itself high above the lunar surface before deorbiting on November 19, 1969. (Project Apollo Archive)

Following mating with its lunar module and Translunar Injection (TLI), the astronauts began their three-day, nearly 250,000-mile journey to the moon. After orbiting the moon and separating their lunar module from their command module, Conrad and Bean descended to the moon’s surface. During their more than 31 hours on the moon, they conducted two Extra Vehicular Activities (EVAs), each lasting three-and-a-half hours, visited several craters, gathered 75 pounds of lunar samples and walked farther and explored more lunar terrain than Apollo 11 astronauts Armstrong and “Buzz” Aldrin had done.

The Passive Seismic Experiment (PSE) module deployed as a part of Apollo 12's Apollo Lunar Surface Experiments Package (ALSEP), which was deployed on five of the six successful missions. It consists of a seismometer surrounded by an apron of aluminized Mylar to reduce surface temperature fluctuations, recording moonquakes and meteorite impacts.  (Project Apollo Archive)

They also set up the nuclear-powered Apollo Lunar Surface Experiments Package (ALSEP), which quickly sent data back to earth. But among the Apollo 12 crew’s crowning achievements, in addition to the unique rocks they brought back, was their precise landing near the Surveyor 3 spacecraft.

The Anti-Submarine Warfare Support Aircraft Carrier USS Hornet (CVS 12) prepares to recover the Apollo Twelve Command Module following its splashdown southeast of the island of Samoa, November 24, 1969, after its landing. (National Archives and Records Administration via Naval History and Heritage Command)

On November 20, Conrad and Bean lifted off in the ascent stage of their lunar module and rendezvoused and docked with their command module that Gordon was piloting. Four days later, they splashed down in the Pacific Ocean and were taken aboard the mission’s primary recovery ship, USS Hornet (CVS 12), the same vessel that had picked up the Apollo 11 crew. Like the Apollo 11 crew, Conrad, Gordon and Bean were isolated to ensure they didn’t bring back lunar germs.

Editor's Note: In addition to serving as public affairs officer for 17 years at Norfolk Naval Shipyard, Steve Milner was also a public affairs contractor with the National Aeronautics and Space Administration at Cape Canaveral during the manned Gemini, Apollo and Skylab programs.