Naval Aviation Pilots (NAPs): Unsung Heroes of the Skies

By Mark Freeman
HRNM Ceremonies/Special Events Coordinator

Enlisted Naval Aviators (NAPs) have played a crucial yet often overlooked role in shaping the history of naval aviation. To learn more about the Naval Aviation Pilot, please see our previous blog. This article seeks to shed light on several of the most famous NAPs, spanning the period from 1911 to 1981. The journey begins with the humble origins of enlisted aviation training, exploring the challenges and triumphs that these men faced in their quest to take to the skies.

In the nascent days of naval aviation, the distinction of being NAP No. 1 fell upon Chief Quartermaster (Aviation) Harold H. “Kiddy” Karr. Karr was trained as a biplane pilot in France to support World War I aviation efforts. An illustrious member of the original 1919 class, Kiddy Karr's legacy set the stage for future generations of enlisted aviators. Karr is identified as NAP No. 1 because he was trained before the program was established.

Chief Machinist’s Mate (A) Floyd Bennett, NAP No. 9, soared to fame as a pilot for polar explorer Admiral Richard Byrd. In 1926, Bennett became the first enlisted pilot to fly over the North Pole. He received the Medal of Honor for his Arctic flight. Bennett continued flying experimental planes and died in 1928 from pneumonia following a crash in Canada. Famed pilot Charles Lindbergh was enroute to the hospital with a serum to save Chief Bennett but arrived after he had already died.

CMM Floyd Bennett (NHHC)

The post-World War I era saw remarkable feats, with Chief Machinist’s Mate (A) Eugene “Smokey” Rhoads (NAP No. 27) standing out. Shoveling coal on trains before joining the Navy, Rhoads became a transatlantic flight pioneer and, in 1919, he was a member of the crew that completed the first transatlantic flight flying the NC-4 Flying Boat.

NC-4 Flying Boat Crew, with CMM Rhoads on left (This Day in Aviation)

NC-4 Flying Boat (NHHC)

Chief Machinist’s Mate (A) Francis E. Ormsbee, Jr., NAP No. 25, the first NAP to receive the Medal of Honor, demonstrated extraordinary heroism in a 1918 rescue mission. Chief Ormsbee rescued a gunner from a downed aircraft off the coast of NAS Pensacola. He landed nearby and jumped in, holding the gunner’s head above water until assistance could arrive. Once assistance arrived, he continued to dive to try and save others aboard the aircraft, to no avail.

CMM Ormsbee (US Navy)

The golden era of NAPs unfolded during World War II, as they transitioned from utility roles to frontline combat. Notable figures like Chief Boatswain Patrick J. “Pappy” Byrne, with an astonishing 23,000 flight hours in 140 aircraft types in his 40-year career, exemplified the versatility of NAPs.

The heroic exploits of Chief Petty Officer Wilbur B. “Spider” Webb, who continued flying despite losing a leg during the Pearl Harbor attack, highlighted the indomitable spirit of these aviators. Flying with Fighting Squadron 2 (VF-2) attached to USS Hornet (CV 12), Webb earned the Navy Cross for his heroics defending the Marianas Islands, during the Battle of the Philippine Sea, becoming a Navy ace by shooting down seven enemy aircraft in aerial combat.

Chief Webb (The Hall of Valor Project)

During the Korean War, the Navy needed additional NAPs. NAPs such as Aviation Machinist Mate First Class (AD1) William Longley flew helicopter missions. These missions were mainly in support as combat rescue and medical evacuation. Longley flew 27 different types of aircraft with over 11,000 hours as a pilot. He once recorded flying over 600,000 miles in 414 days without incident, which was a record at the time.

AD1 Longley aboard USS St. Paul (Naval Helicopter Association Historical Society)

When the Vietnam War concluded, the era of Naval Aviation Pilots drew to a close. In 1973, four of the last five enlisted pilots, Master Gunnery Sergeants Robert Lurie, Leslie T. Ericson, Joseph A. Conroy, and Patrick J. O'Neill, retired after 30 years of service. Their retirement marked the end of an era that spanned two World Wars, Korea, and Vietnam. In 1981, Master Chief Air Controlman (NAP) Robert K. Jones retired. His retirement marked the end of an era, as he was the final NAP to retire.

From the icy expanses of the North Pole to the intense battles in the Pacific, NAPs exemplified dedication and heroism. In their 65 years of distinguished service, these 5,000 unsung heroes left an enduring legacy. Their story is not just one of flying machines but a testament to the indelible spirit of those who served their country with unwavering commitment and valor.

Hollywood and the Navy: Operation Petticoat

By Brenda Hale
HRNM Volunteer

Art imitates life in the 1959 movie Operation Petticoat, which managed to be realistic and humorous in one story. The movie was set in World War II, after Pearl Harbor, with a fictional Navy submarine, USS Sea Tiger. Several of the Pacific Fleet's submarines were used in the filming of this movie, with some real Navy events recreated. The movie portrayed a Balao-class submarine, with Cary Grant as Lt. Cmdr. Sherman and Tony Curtis as Lt. Nick Holden. The story follows Capt. Sherman and his crew, who were tasked to evacuate and billet five stranded female nurses, brought aboard unexpectedly while the sub was at Marinduque, Philippines, for supplies. On May 3, 1942, a real evacuation took place at Corregidor for one Navy nurse and several Army nurses by submarine USS Spearfish (SS 190), commanded by future Navy Cross recipient James C. Dempsey. In Operation Petticoat, fictitious events between the all-male Navy crew and female nurses are played out in humorous scenes.

USS Spearfish received ten battle stars for World War II service. (I. R. Lloyd print, NavSource.org)

The technical advisor on the film was retired Navy admiral Lucius Chappell. He brought a wealth of knowledge to his role in this movie. In 1937, Chappell was Executive Officer and navigator aboard USS Snapper, and in 1941 he assumed command of USS Sculpin, which completed eight war patrols during the first two years of World War II. For heroism and distinguished service, Chappell was awarded the Navy Cross and a Gold Star, along with two Letters of Commendation with Ribbon.

Rear Admiral Lucius Chappell (NavSource.org)

In Operation Petticoat, when the nurses first arrive aboard, Lt. Dolores Crandall, a well-endowed, clumsy nurse, gets her high heel stuck in the upper deck. Capt. Sherman tells her to take off the other shoe, and she trots up the steps barefoot. Then Sherman tells Lt. Watson, his executive officer, “Please assemble the crew. Instruct them to ignore that our passengers are women. That may require some readjustment, but I want every man to understand, our objective is Cebu [Philippines]. If any man has any other objective in mind, he’d better forget it.”

In another scene from the film, Lt. Crandall shows up on the bridge right when the captain has a torpedo loaded to sink an enemy supply ship. When Sherman yells at her to go below, she accidentally pushes the wrong torpedo button and blows up a truck on land, instead of the supply ship. In Sherman’s journal, he writes, “Can Lt. Crandall possibly be an enemy agent?” Filmmakers borrowed this event from a real-life incident involving Balao-class submarine USS Bowfin (SS 287). On July 16, 1944, Bowfin left Hawaii and headed for the Ryukyu Islands. On August 9, four ships were sighted heading for Minami Daito, Philippine Sea. After the ships had moored, Bowfin fired torpedoes, blowing up two ships, and a stray torpedo hit a dock, sending a bus into the water.

Later in the movie, Captain Sherman tells all the nurses, “Just don’t touch anything. For the next few days we’ll all be living in fairly close contact with each other. You being women, and the crew being men, being confined like this could create situations not usually consistent with normal submarine operations.” The nurses’ major says, “We’re well acquainted with the facts of life.” The captain replies, “So are the men. I’m simply trying to avoid any exchange of information.”

USS Balao (SS 285) painted pink for Operation Petticoat (Submarinesailor.com)

One of the movie’s most humorous plots is the painting of Sea Tiger with pink paint due to a shortage of proper paint supplies. In January 1941, the Navy issued a new manual for camouflage painting. It was generally referred to as SHIPS-2, the second issued by Bureau of Ships. In it, various camouflage designs were assigned 'Measure' numbers. Overall, black became camouflage Measure 9 and had actually been applied to all U S submarines by the end of 1940. The humor-filled, fictional movie events were too numerous to mention here, and most of them portray actual Navy events in a skewed manner. At the end of the movie, two shipboard connections that resulted in romance and marriage are revealed. Capt. Sherman and Nurse Lt. Crandall married, despite all the mishaps created on the ship by Lt Crandall. Lt. Nick Holden married Nurse Lt. Barbara Duran, whom Holden pursued from the time the nurses came aboard. Those are two scenarios that could represent real life.


Resources:
“Twenty-five years of women aboard combatant vessels”, Adam Bisno NHHC Communication and Outreach Division, Mar 12, 2019. https://www.militarynews.com/news/twenty-five-years-of-women-aboard-combatant-vessels/article_69abbe6e-44cf-11e9-a5d6-2b3ab095fc83.html

“Women in Submarines: 10 years later”, Mass Communication Specialist 2nd Class Cameron Stoner, SUBLANT Public Affairs, June 25, 2021. https://www.navy.mil/Press-Office/News-Stories/Article/2671640/women-in-submarines-10-years-later/

Modern Biographical Files in the Navy Department Library, Modern Bios, Lucius Henry Chappell. https://www.history.navy.mil/research/library/research-guides/modern-biographical-files-ndl/modern-bios-c/chappell-lucius-henry.html

Wikipedia: Operation Petticoat. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Petticoat

Naval History and Heritage Command, Dictionary of American Naval Fighting Ships. https://www.history.navy.mil/research/histories/ship-histories/danfs/b/bowfin-i.html

NavSource Online: A Brief Pictorial History of Submarine Camouflage. https://navsource.org/archives/08/08492.htm

U.S. Forces Began Main Battle For Philippines 75 Years Ago, by David Vergun, DOD News, Jan. 8, 2020. https://www.defense.gov/News/Feature-Stories/Story/Article/2048611/us-forces-began-main-battle-for-philippines-75-years-ago/

In the Collection: Mark V Diving Helmet

By Nick Wieman
HRNM Volunteer

While humanity has been diving for thousands of years in search of food, pearls, and other treasures found on the sea floor, it wasn’t until the early 19th century when diving was no longer limited by the divers’ lung capacity or inflexibility of a diving bell. The invention and proliferation of reliable surface-supplied diving dress (diving suits with gases pumped from the surface) in the early 19th century revolutionized diving for commercial, scientific, and military purposes. While every seafaring nation had its own models of diving dress, the American Mark V diving dress would prove to be one of the most popular and recognizable models in the world, not just among divers but with the general public as well.

The US Navy had followed the lead of other navies in adopting diving suits in the mid-1800s, but until the early 1910s Navy divers were primarily utilized for underwater construction and repair of ships in harbor, with divers rarely going below 60 fsw (feet of seawater). With no standardized set of equipment, dives could become needlessly complicated by incompatible assortments from a wide range of commercial manufacturers. In 1912, Chief Gunner George D. Stillson established a program to test Scottish physician John Scott Haldane’s observations of stage decompression, with the broader goal of improving and professionalizing the US Navy’s diving program.

Stillson’s program yielded many firsts for the US Navy: the first official US Navy Diving Manual, published in 1916; the first official US Navy Diving School in Newport, Rhode Island (to be replaced by the Naval Diving and Salvage Training Center in 1941); and the deepest dive of any Navy diver yet, at 274 fsw. The program also introduced the first standard set of equipment for divers: the 1916 Mark V Diving Rig. Originally introduced in 1905 as a copy of the British Siebe-Gorman Davis Six Bolt Admiralty Pattern Helmet, the 1916 model implemented several key improvements, namely the telephone system and the “chin button” internal pressure regulator. Aside from small improvements in 1927 to reduce weight, and minor differences between manufacturers—Morse Diving Equipment Company and A. Schrader’s Son before WW2, additionally DESCO and the Miller Dunn Company after Pearl Harbor—the Mark V would remain unchanged as the standard diving system of the US Navy until the introduction of the Mark XII in 1984 and remains popular among commercial divers to this day.

Front view, Mark V diving helmet 

While scientific inquiry did its in part in furthering development of Navy diving, necessity has always been the mother of invention. The expansion of the Navy’s submarine fleets brought along with it a corresponding increase in submarine accidents, and an increased demand for skilled divers for rescue and salvage. The attack on Pearl Harbor signaled a new era for the Navy Diver; within an hour of the attack’s ending, divers were in the water, cutting open the capsized USS Oklahoma to rescue Sailors still trapped aboard the vessel, successfully rescuing 32 Sailors. Navy divers were crucial for the salvage and recovery efforts at Pearl Harbor, logging a cumulative 16,000 hours underwater and contributing to the successful salvage of 18 of the 21 ships lost or damaged during the attack; they would continue to play critical parts in salvaging both Allied and Axis shipwrecks throughout the course of the war. While not typically surface-supplied diving rigs, Navy divers in Construction Battalions (“Seabees”) were nevertheless crucial in building and maintaining the infrastructure necessary to conduct the island-hopping campaign in the Pacific.

U.S. Navy salvage unit clearing wreckage from Naples Harbor, October 22, 1943 (National Archives)

After the Second World War, surface-supplied diving continued its importance even with the advent of the Aqua-Lung and scuba systems in the late 1940s/early 1950s and the decline of dedicated naval salvage ships, becoming instrumental to several noteworthy scientific endeavors. Navy divers studied the wrecks of ships sunk during nuclear tests at Bikini Atoll during Operation Crossroads in 1946, carrying watertight Geiger counters that warned against radioactive hotspots. Navy Divers assisted in the recovery of the four hydrogen bombs lost off the coast of Palermos, Spain in 1966, alongside the DSV-2 Alvin submersible. Finally, US Navy divers were critical to the construction of several undersea research laboratories, including the three SEALAB and two Tektite projects; the latter Tektite projects led to the creation of the Seabees’ two dedicated Underwater Construction Teams.

Divers off USS Preserver preparing to do a visual survey of USS Saratoga at Bikini Atoll in 1947 (Lauren R. Donaldson collection, University of Washington)

This particular helmet in the Naval Museum’s collection is the Mark V Model 1 Diving Helmet, formerly owned by Lt. Albert J. Banasky. It measures roughly 20 inches in height from the upper viewport to the tip of the breastplate, 14 inches wide from either side viewport, 15 inches deep from the faceplate to the back of the helmet and weighs a solid 68 pounds of solid bronze and brass. The “bonnet,” or the part of the helmet that goes over the diver’s head, is a copper dome with four prominent glass viewports, roughly half an inch thick, covered by brass grills for protecting. The insignia on the breastplate reads, “US NAVY DIVING HELMET/MARK V-MOD.1/DIVING EQUIPMENT AND SALVAGE CO. INC /[MILWAUKEE WIS./1917/DATE 12 1 44/”. The helmet’s overall condition is good, exhibiting the greenish discoloration typical of bronze and brass due to prolonged oxidation, with only the insignia on the breastplate becoming more obscured.

Right side view of helmet

Running along the bottom of the helmet’s right side is the spring-loaded exhaust system, which regulated the air pressure within the diver’s suit. One spring automatically triggered when the internal pressure reached .5 pounds per square inch, or by the diver turning the external valve; another spring guarded against over pressurization. Both could be bypassed by a “chin button,” within the helmet, activated by the diver pressing against it with his chin (hence the name), opening the helmet for maximum air circulation. Air is expelled from the helmet through the exhaust port towards the back of the diver’s neck, which prevented bubbles from obscuring their vision.

Left side view of helmet

On the left side of the helmet is the aptly named spitcock, which allowed the diver to draw water into their helmet to spit on the viewport in case of fogging, or for blowing air out of the helmet to fine-tune air pressure. On the left side of the helmet’s back is the air inlet elbow, on the right the inlet for the telephone cable.

Divers wearing Mark V diving rig inter remains of USS Arizona survivor Lauren Bruner aboard the sunken Arizona, December 7, 2019 (Navy Times)

In one form or another, the Mark V has been a constant presence in the United States Navy since its introduction in 1916. While the Mark V may have been retired from active service in the United States Navy, it endures as a symbol of the diver’s heritage within the military. The Mark V features prominently in the insignia of the National Diving and Salvage Training Center, almost all diver insignias in the Navy, Marine Corps, and Coast Guard, and countless official and unofficial memorabilia relating to the Navy. More broadly, the Mark V has become the quintessential “diving suit,” an enduring symbol of undersea exploration and adventure in the popular consciousness.



Sources/Further Reading:
1. https://www.history.navy.mil/research/library/online-reading-room/title-list-alphabetically/d/diving-in-the-u-s-navy-a-brief-history.html
2. https://www.history.navy.mil/browse-by-topic/communities/divers.html
3. https://navalunderseamuseum.org/mk-v/
4. Raymer, Edward C. Descent into Darkness: Pearl Harbor, 1941—A Navy Diver’s Memoir. US Naval Institute Press. 2015

"We Will Not Disappoint You:" Tom Eversole's Sacrifice at the Battle of Midway

By Laura Orr
HRNM Director of Education

Tom Eversole and his mother, Sarah (Courtesy of the Eversole family)

On April 28, 1942, almost five months after the United States entered the Second World War, U.S. Navy pilot Tom Eversole wrote a letter to his mother, who lived in Pocatello, Idaho. He wrote, “These are difficult times for Mothers everywhere and I am sure that the one message all sons would send their Mothers is ‘Have faith in us. We will do our best, and regardless of the price we may pay, remember that in the ultimate we are striving for those things you spent so many years teaching us. We will not disappoint you.’” Eversole’s actions held true to that sentiment when he gave his life for his country just over a month later. He died fighting in the Battle of Midway on June 4, 1942, a clash that became the first major victory for the U.S. Navy in the Pacific War.

This is part of Tom Eversole’s letter to his mother from April 28, 1942. (Courtesy of the Eversole family)

John Thomas Eversole—Tom to his friends and family—graduated from the Naval Academy in 1938. He served in the surface fleet for two years and then trained as a naval aviator, graduating from flight school in Pensacola in February 1941. The Navy assigned Eversole to Torpedo Squadron 6 (VT-6), which was attached to USS Enterprise (CV 6), an aircraft carrier based out of Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. Prior to World War II, pilots did not choose the plane they flew but were randomly assigned to either a fighter, dive bomber, or torpedo bomber upon completion of flight school. Eversole was one of the unlucky ones assigned to the TBD Devastator. These unreliable torpedo planes had a number of troubles, including slow speed and poor maneuverability. Worse yet, the bombers carried the Mark-13 torpedo, a notoriously defective weapon that tended to misfire during prewar ordnance tests. With all of these difficulties, the TBD aviators believed that when a battle happened, they would be unlikely to survive it. Aviation Radioman Third Class Ronald Graetz, a rear seat gunner in VT-6, later recalled, “We knew this was a death squadron. Everybody was satisfied that we were going to lose planes.” Another VT-6 pilot, Ensign Irvin McPherson, recollected, “We had no illusions about those planes of ours. They are good work horses or training planes by modern standards, but their lack of speed and lack of armament made them practically worthless.”

A TBD Devastator drops a torpedo (NHHC)

On the morning of June 4, 1942, three squadrons of torpedo planes—Eversole’s squadron from USS Enterprise and one squadron each from USS Yorktown and USS Hornet—charged into battle. These pilots and rear seat gunners went into the fray knowing it would be their last flight. Lieutenant (junior grade) Jack “Dusty” Kleiss remembered his final goodbye with his good friend Tom Eversole. He wrote, “We shook hands and bid each other ‘good luck.’ It was a gut-wrenching goodbye. I knew this was likely farewell forever. . . . There is nothing quite so dark and terrifying as knowing your friend is about to be killed and being utterly unable to help him.” Without fighter protection, the three TBD squadrons reached the Japanese carrier fleet, dropping low to do what little damage they could. Ensign McPherson of VT-6 recollected, “We were all worried—not scared at this time because we weren’t in the thick of things as yet—but things looked bad. Here we were without protection, alone, and certain to get the full force of the concentrated Jap antiaircraft fire as we approached for the kill."

TBD Devastators attack the Japanese carriers on June 4, 1942 (R.G. Smith, Navy Art)

In the space of just fifty minutes, the three torpedo squadrons lost 37 of 41 planes, 68 of 82 crewmen, and they didn’t score a single hit. With their sacrifice, however, they distracted the Japanese fighter planes so the U.S. Navy’s dive bomber pilots could come in and sink three of the Japanese aircraft carriers in what became known as the famous five minutes of Midway.

Only four TBDs made it back to USS Enterprise. Lieutenant (junior grade) Tom Eversole’s plane was not among them. While no one saw his plane go down, his squadron’s survivors assumed he was shot down by the Japanese. In the aftermath, the Bureau of Naval Personnel declared Eversole missing in action and notified his family. His girlfriend, Betty Ensor, sent a telegram to Eversole’s mother, stating, “Just notified by Navy Washington our darling is missing. You have all my love and sympathy. We must be brave and pray for his return.” Unfortunately, Eversole, like many other World War II aviators lost at sea, would never be found.

Betty Ensor, Tom Eversole’s girlfriend, sent this telegram to his mother after she heard he was missing in action. (Courtesy of the Eversole family)

But Eversole’s sacrifice at Midway would not be forgotten. In early 1943, J.M. Schelling, the Navy’s supervisor of shipbuilding, recommended that a new destroyer escort be named after Eversole. Schelling sent this news to Sarah Eversole, Tom’s mother, and the Navy Department asked her to be the sponsor for this new ship. In December 1942, the Navy commissioned USS Eversole (DE 404), a John C. Butler­-class destroyer escort. On October 28, 1944, at its first major battle, the Japanese submarine I-45 torpedoed USS Eversole near Leyte Gulf. Over fifty crewmembers died when the ship exploded.

This framed photograph of USS Eversole’s commissioning in December 1943 was recently donated to the Hampton Roads Naval Museum from the Eversole family. (photo taken by author)

Recently, the Hampton Roads Naval Museum received artifacts from Tom Eversole’s family, including a framed print from the commissioning ceremony. On the back of this print are the signatures of the crewmembers who survived the ship’s sinking. In the top left corner is the signature of Lieutenant Commander George Marix, USS Eversole’s captain. Over 150 Sailors signed this photograph and gave it to Sarah Eversole, Tom’s mother, as a remembrance of this first ship named after her son. In 1946, the Navy launched a second ship named after him, which served in the Navy until 1973 when it was transferred to the Turkish Navy.

This is the back of the commissioning photograph, with signatures from the survivors of USS Eversole after the ship sank at Leyte Gulf. (photo taken by author)

On this 80th anniversary of the Battle of Midway, we remember the sacrifice of LTJG Tom Eversole and his fellow torpedo pilots. As dive bomber pilot Dusty Kleiss once said, reminiscing about the legacy of the Battle of Midway, “Our torpedo plane crews should get the real honors. They were flying obsolete planes with the world’s worst torpedoes. . . .Only a handful of all three squadrons survived. These torpedo plane crews kept the Japanese ships in disarray and kept all their fighters at sea level.” As we contemplate the 80th anniversary of this crucial turning point in the war in the Pacific, remember the sacrifice made by these young naval aviators to win this victory.

Letter from Secretary of the Navy Frank Knox to Sarah Eversole, confirming Tom’s status as missing in action, July 29, 1942. (Courtesy of the Eversole family)

The Uncle He Never Met: Norfolk Resident Recalls Relative Who Perished During Pearl Harbor Attack

By Max Lonzanida
HRNM Public Affairs Officer

A cigar box contains letters and telegrams from the West Coast and Pearl Harbor, newspaper clippings of the Japanese attacks at Pearl Harbor, and a locket with a photo of the uncle he never met. These were some of the mementoes shared by 72-year-old Michael Jacobs of his uncle, Boiler Maker Second Class Wiley James Petway. Twenty-three-year-old Petway paid the ultimate sacrifice 80 years ago when his ship, USS Oklahoma (BB 37), sustained torpedo hits and capsized at Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941.

Michael Jacobs reads from some of the letters and telegrams from his uncle, Boiler Maker Second Class Wiley James Petway. (Max Lonzanida)

That uncle is interred locally at Hampton National Cemetery. Jacobs shared some of his insights on his quest to learn more about Petway’s life and service to our nation: “My uncle died eight years before I was born. I was named after my uncle. He was known as James, and my first name is James. James Michael Jacobs,” he began as he laid out some envelopes on the table containing letters and telegrams Petway had sent home.

Wiley James Petway, shortly after enlistment in the U.S. Navy. (Courtesy Michael Jacobs)

Petway was born on December 29, 1918, in Wilson, North Carolina. Jacobs reflected on his family’s move, before his birth, to the Hampton Roads area: “You either farmed or you didn’t [in Wilson]. It was pretty much like that. That’s why it was a migration up to this area because the shipyard was really big. . . . The whole family migrated: grandfather, grandmother, aunt, uncle. Dad worked in the shipyard.” The family’s move to Portsmouth was tied to the influx of jobs at the Norfolk Navy Yard.

In the years leading up to 1941, Newport News Shipbuilding and Norfolk Navy Yard were bustling with new warship construction. Sixteen of the warships present at Pearl Harbor in December 1941 were constructed in Hampton Roads. Amid the activity of workers, one might think that Jacobs’ father would have probably seen, worked on, or been around one of those warships that would eventually be sent to Pearl Harbor.

Records show that Petway enlisted in the U.S. Navy on May 21, 1936. He first reported aboard Oklahoma on October 2, 1936. At the time, Oklahoma was in the process of shifting operations from Norfolk to the West Coast and then eventually to Pearl Harbor. The battleship arrived at Pearl Harbor on December 6, 1940.

USS Oklahoma (Hampton Roads Naval Museum)

One letter, dated April 1938, describes Petway’s time on the West Coast. Jacobs read his uncle’s words: “This place is alright [California] for a visit, but duty here is not that good. After we get to Long Beach, the ship will stay for about a month and then we will go to Bremerton for 3 months. It rains all the rest of the year. I’m sending you a snapshot of myself, I tried to grow a cookie duster while on the cruise and you may think I was drinking chocolate malt, maybe I’m not a man yet. Tell daddy hello for me.”

On June 15, 1940, Petway married Gwen Evans in Yuma County, Arizona. Gwen, Jacobs noted, was the aunt he never met. Jacobs brought out a browned envelope dated December 3, 1941, mailed by his grandmother to Petway at Pearl Harbor. The letter never reached its intended recipient and was returned. Jacobs read the words written by his grandmother: “It won’t be before about 6 more weeks when you and Gwen will be coming here [to Norfolk] to visit…If you find a surprise in here, then it won’t be a surprise anymore. $150 as a wedding present for you and Gwen.”

That wedding present, along with his mother’s words, never reached Petway, as he was one of the 429 Sailors who perished when Oklahoma sank. On December 7, 1941, over 2,000 U.S. service members perished. The majority of those were the 1,177 U.S. Navy Sailors who died aboard USS Arizona (BB 39). At the time of the attack, USS Oklahoma was one of the Navy’s oldest battleships. Oklahoma was built in Camden, New Jersey, and commissioned in May 1916. The battleship was among the first of the Navy’s large combatants built to burn fuel oil in its twelve Babcock and Wilcox boilers. Petway would have stood watch and tended to those boilers, which supplied power to the battleship. Oklahoma was also one of the first to have its boilers, engine spaces, and magazines enclosed with 13.5 inches of reinforced armor belt. This reinforcement, however, was no match for the torpedoes dropped by attacking Japanese aircraft. Oklahoma bore the brunt of torpedo strikes and strafing runs and capsized.

USS Oklahoma, capsized at Pearl Harbor (NHHC)

Petway was aboard Oklahoma when the ship capsized, and he died immediately, just twenty days shy of his 24th birthday. He was one of the 35 Sailors whose remains were initially identified and buried at Oahu’s Nu’uanu Naval Cemetery and Halawa Naval Cemetery. Eventually, over 400 of Oklahoma’s Sailors would be buried at 52 locations spread over the two cemeteries from December 9, 1941, through June 27, 1944. The burials coincided with efforts to upend and salvage the ship.

Jacobs discussed how his family was notified of his uncle’s death, noting, “I think they got a telegram [about his death]. Other than that, my grandmother was beside herself. Greatly depressed.” His grandparents’ marriage eventually dissolved, in part because of the devastation that fell upon the family in the aftermath of his uncle’s death.

Wiley Jacobs (father), Melba Jacobs (sister), Lydia Eason Petway (mother), Ann Jacobs (sister), Wiley James Petway (Courtesy Michael Jacobs)

Repatriation stateside began after the cessation of hostilities. Petway’s remains were among the first to be disinterred and brought to Oahu’s Schofield Barracks. From there, his remains, along with caskets containing 3,012 deceased service members, were loaded aboard the Army transport ship, USAT Honda Knot. Honda Knot was a C1-M-AV1 type merchant ship, one of over 200 built for the US Maritime Commission during World War II. The 338-foot-long cargo ship was originally constructed to transport cargo; however, on this occasion, it was assigned the solemn role of transporting the first sets of remains to the West Coast as part of the Army’s operation to bring home deceased and buried servicemembers from overseas. The operation would transport over 233,000 deceased service members home from 1945 to 1951.

Honda Knot departed Oahu on September 30, 1947. As was custom, every ship at Pearl Harbor brought its flags to half-mast and crews rendered honors as the ship departed. The transport steamed at a top speed of 11 knots and reached San Francisco on October 10, 1947. An aerial escort of 48 fighter planes flew over the vessel before dipping their wings and banking away. A Coast Guard cutter, along with a Navy warship, escorted Honda Knot to its anchorage. Waiting on shore was a crowd of thousands of civilians and service members, many of whom were family members of the deceased. San Francisco’s mayor, Roger Lepham, led a memorial service, which was attended by then Secretary of the Navy John L. Sullivan and General Mark Clark, Commandant of the 6th U.S. Army Corps.

Petway’s remains arrived in Hampton, Virginia, on either October 21 or 22, 1947. A newspaper article, with the headline, “Five War Dead From This Area Brought to U.S.,” detailed Petway’s arrival and subsequent burial. Another newspaper article titled, “War Hero’s Funeral at Hampton Tomorrow,” read: “Funeral services for a heroic victim of World War II will be conducted graveside in the National Cemetery at Hampton tomorrow [October 24, 1947] at 1:30 p.m. The body of Wiley James Petway, Boiler Maker second class, U.S.N., who was killed at Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, arrived this afternoon after a long journey homeward from the Pacific. He was aboard the U.S.S. Oklahoma, awaiting transportation home for a 30-day furlough after having decided to re-enlist for another four years. He was the son of Mr. and Mrs. W.E. Petway, 428 West Twenty-seventh street.”

Jacobs noted, “I don’t know why [my uncle] went into the service. I don’t if he decided if the military was a job and it was a way out of North Carolina. I don’t know if he was patriotic and if there was a call to defend our country. I know what was important is that he went in, he served his country with honor, and he paid the ultimate sacrifice.”

Let us remember Wiley James Petway and all those who lost their lives during the attack on Pearl Harbor eighty years ago.

Douglas MacArthur and Chester Nimitz: Five-Star Leadership, Part 2

By Lee Duckworth
HRNM Volunteer

Part 1 of this blog is available here.

Personalities

The greatest difference between Douglas MacArthur and Chester Nimitz was in their personality. MacArthur was renowned for being egotistical and seeing himself as invincible and infallible. Nimitz was the antithesis: humble and unemotional.

MacArthur felt he was living out his destiny in his meteoric rise to five-star general. He rarely cracked a smile and seldom used profanity. Nimitz, on the other hand, loved to tell stories and jokes. He enjoyed mingling with the troops and had many friends, both junior and senior.

General MacArthur and his chief of staff on Corregidor, Philippines, 1942
(Wikimedia Commons)

MacArthur was domineering, enigmatic, decisive, highly principled, and outspoken. But he was also egocentric, arrogant, had a love for theatrics, and had few friends. MacArthur was an outstanding strategist and superb at seeing the big picture of the war in the Pacific. He worked long hours and expected his staff to do the same: they needed to be completely loyal and energetic. He “wrapped himself in a cloak of dignified aloofness” and “no one was permitted to forget he was both warrior and aristocrat.”[1] He seemed to live by the concept that “rules are mostly made to be broken.” He was a farsighted administrator but flamboyant and had great moral courage that inspired confidence.

Admiral Nimitz pins the Navy Cross on Doris Miller, 1942
(Naval History and Heritage Command)

Conversely, Nimitz was a more reserved leader, had a will of steel, was humble and a team-builder. He too was a superb strategist and tactician. Nimitz was unflappable and calm and had a great sense of humor, which helped alleviate tension. He led by common sense and example yet avoided the press and publicity. He demonstrated an astonishing coolness under pressure and was known for his quiet manner. Nimitz was hardworking, eager to take charge, rule-abiding and conscientious, and was the consummate organizer. He was superb at the art of delegation, freeing himself from the minute details of his job.

Summary

What can we glean from the background of these five-stars? Admiral Nimitz and General MacArthur were highly intelligent, great strategists, and had loyal followers. As historian D. Clayton James relates, the two men “had much in common. Both had highly trained command minds that cut through underbrush to reach the core of projects and problems. Both had that extraordinary quality of leadership that inspires loyalty; both were endowed with the champion’s will to win. But here the similarity ceases. The admiral seldom rode the emotional pendulum; joy and sorrow would set the general off on lusty zooms or steep dives.”[2] Both were groomed and excelled in their own way. They were both very aware of the political influence they wielded, though MacArthur took more advantage of that influence. Yet, their approach to the vast and seemingly overwhelming responsibilities demonstrates their uniqueness and individuality. MacArthur’s style was "A leadership that kept you at a respectful distance, yet at the same time took you as an esteemed member of his team, and very quickly had you working harder than you had ever worked before in your life, just because of the loyalty, admiration and respect in which he held you."[3]

MacArthur and Nimitz reported to their respective service chiefs on the Joint Chiefs of Staff (JCS) during World War II (MacArthur to General George C. Marshall and Nimitz to Admiral Ernest J. King). Fortunately, the two service chiefs had leadership and personality styles opposite of their corresponding Pacific leaders. King was a notorious workaholic who was driven, outspoken, and extremely demanding. Marshall was the opposite: mellow, calm, and very forward-thinking. King understood Nimitz’s style of leadership and though he pushed hard, he held great respect for Nimitz. Marshall was the perfect foil for MacArthur and knew how to keep him under control. He would wait, sometimes for days, before responding to MacArthur’s messages and demands, completely ignoring them on occasion. Marshall was supportive of MacArthur but never pushed around by him. The two JCS chiefs were perfect matches for MacArthur and Nimitz and supported them extremely well. Had their personalities been exchanged, there may have been bigger battles on the Washington front that there were in the Pacific.

Douglas MacArthur and his staff returning to the Philippines in 1944 
(Wikimedia Commons)

Two of the major actions of WWII in the Pacific highlight their differences: MacArthur’s return to the Philippines and Nimitz at the Battle of Midway. MacArthur’s speech on his return was broadcast all over the Philippines and began: “People of the Philippines, I have returned! By the grace of Almighty God, our forces stand again on Philippine soil…Rally to me!”[4] MacArthur had used the phrase “I shall return” as his clarion for nearly three years and went so far as to have thousands of packets of matchbooks printed and distributed with those words on the cover.

Nimitz, some 30 months earlier (May 1942), flew to Midway a month prior to the battle and inspected the preparations being made to defend the island against the impending Japanese assault. In response to the commander of the ground force’s list of items needed to fight against the Japanese, he asked: “If I get you all these things you say you need, then can you hold Midway?” To the reply of “Yes Sir,” Nimitz smiled and began to look relaxed. “In his usual quiet way he thoroughly alerted the defenders of the atoll and at the same time instilled confidence in them.”[5]

Nimitz explains his recommended strategy at a July 1944 conference with MacArthur, President Roosevelt, and Admiral Leahy. (Wikimedia Commons)

Perhaps most telling is President Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s comments during the July, 1944 Pearl Harbor meeting to discuss the Formosa/Philippines strategy. FDR told aides that each man was intelligent, insightful, and gentlemanly. They were consummate professionals, both very respectful of each other and committed to working together.

Nimitz and MacArthur stayed the course, and in their unique styles, triumphed in the war years. It is clear that they were the right men, in the right place, at a most critical time to lead the allies to victory in the Pacific in the Second World War.

[1] James, Vol II, 77, 81
[2] James, Vol II, 398-399

[3] Kinni, 163

[4]  James, Vol II, 558

[5] Potter, 78


Recommended Reading

Borneman, Walter R. The Admirals: Nimitz, Halsey, Leahy, and King: The Five-star Admirals who won the War at Sea. Little, Brown and Co., New York, NY, 2012.

Borneman, Walter R. MacArthur at War: World War II in the Pacific. Little, Brown & Co, New York, NY, 2016.

Hoyt, Edwin P. How They Won the War in the Pacific: Nimitz and His Admirals. Lyons Press, Guilford, CT, 1970.

James, D. Clayton. The Years of MacArthur 1880-1941, Volume I; The Years of MacArthur 1941-1945, Volume II. Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston, MA, 1970 and 1975.

Kinni, Theodore and Donna. No Substitute for Victory: Lessons in Strategy and Leadership from Douglas MacArthur. Prentice Hall, Upper Saddle River, NJ, 2005.

Manchester, William. American Caesar: Douglas MacArthur 1880-1964. Little, Brown & Co., Boston, MA, 1978.

Potter, E. B. Nimitz. Naval Institute Press, Annapolis, MD, 1976.

Spector, Ronald H. At War at Sea: Sailors and Naval Combat in the Twentieth Century. Penguin & Putnam, New York, NY, 2001.

Stavridis, Admiral James. Sailing True North; Ten Admirals and the Voyage of Character. Penguin Press, New York, NY, 2019.

Toll, Ian W. Twilight of the Gods: War in the Western Pacific, 1944-1945. W. W. Norton & Co, New York, NY, 2020.

USS Langley (CV 1): The Finale (Part 3)

Sailors watch from USS Whipple as Langley is scuttled. (Naval History and Heritage Command)

By Thomas Grubbs

Contributing Writer

 Editor's Note: This is part 3 of the USS Langley series. Click the links to read Part 1 and part 2.

On February 26, 1937, USS Langley, now designated as AG 3, reentered active duty as a member of the Aircraft Scouting Force. It operated out of various West Coast ports and Pearl Harbor before making a brief detour to the Atlantic between February and July 1939. It was then deployed to the Asiatic Fleet some ten weeks later. War would find Langley at Cavite, Philippines.

After the Pearl Harbor attack, Langley fled south, first to Balikpapan in what is now Indonesia and eventually to Darwin, Northern Australia, by early January 1942 where it joined ADBACOM (Australian Dutch British American Command). It would spend the next month assisting the Royal Australian Air Force in anti-submarine patrols off Darwin. On February 22, 1942, Langley would leave on its date with destiny.

Curtiss P-40Es in flight (Wikipedia)

The seaplane tender embarked 32 P-40 Warhawk fighters of the 13^th Pursuit Squadron (Provisional) in Fremantle, Australia, as part of Convoy MS5 bound for Columbo in what is now Sri Lanka. Alongside three further transports and the cargo ship Sea Witch and escorted by the light cruiser USS Phoenix, the convoy was to deliver its war materiel to British forces in India. However, ABDACOM ordered both Langley and Sea Witch to deliver their combined cargo of 59 P-40s to Tjilatjap on the island of Java in a desperate attempt to stem the Japanese tide. Langley would not succeed.

On the morning of February 27, 1942, the tiny convoy, now escorted by destroyers Edsall and Whipple, was spotted by a Japanese reconnaissance plane. In response, 16 G4M Betty bombers attacked from Denpasar airfield, Bali. With the convoy lacking air cover, the Japanese commander, LT Jiro Adachi, ordered a rather leisurely attack on the American ships with Langley drawing the lion’s share of the attention. Apparently enraged at this lack of respect, the tender fought back with a fury worthy of a far larger warship. Coupled with exceptional ship handling, Langley was able to evade the first two attack runs. But the third pass would prove fatal, with five hits and three near misses from 550-lb and 130-lb bombs killing 16 sailors, starting fires, crippling the ship, and inducing a 10-degree list to port. The crippled vessel was abandoned at 1:32 P.M. and scuttled by the escorting destroyers to prevent its capture. 

A torpedo from the destroyer USS Whipple (DD 217) strikes home as the seaplane tender USS Langley is scuttled after being disabled by Japanese bombers on February 27, 1942. (Naval History and Heritage Command)

Of the 485 men rescued, most would be lost when the ship carrying them, oiler USS Pecos, was sunk by the Japanese on March 1 south of Java. Thirty-one more would be lost when the destroyer Edsall was sunk in an epic showdown with two Japanese battleships Kirishima and Hiei that same day, while they were responding the oiler’s distress calls. Thus ended the story of the US Navy’s first aircraft carrier. The valiant sacrifices of ABDACOM bought the time necessary for the United States to prepare a counterpunch against the Japanese, but that is a story for another time.

First in Peace: USS George Washington (SSBN 598) and the Polaris Missile

USS George Washington (SSBN 598) crest, with the ship's motto "First in Peace" reinforced by the Polaris missile for nuclear deterrence. (Naval History and Heritage Command)

Thomas Grubbs

Guest Contributor

As the nation’s first president, George Washington has long been remembered through the practice of naming various places, from high schools to the forty second state, after him. This fact, combined with President Washington’s early and vocal support for the establishment and maintenance of the United States Navy, led to no fewer than sixteen American ships being named after him.  Four, including a pair of battleships, have been named for the state named for him. Of all of these ships, perhaps the most powerful, and least well known, is the ballistic missile submarine with the pennant number SSBN 598. 

USS George Washington on the surface while on patrol (Wikimedia Commons)

The first use of sea-based missiles came immediately after the end of the Second World War, utilizing captured German technology. Such weapons were not confined to the surface fleet. Beginning in the early 1950s, advances in missile technology gave submarines the capability to launch surface to surface missiles.  At first simply armed with conventional high explosive warheads, these missiles were soon paired with a far more terrifying weapon: the atomic bomb.  

A Regulus missile fired from USS Tunny (SSG 282) (Wikimedia Commons)

Given the submarine’s inherent ability to remain both mobile and hidden, both the United States and the  Soviet Union began to base a proportion of their nuclear arsenals aboard submarines.  It took less than fifteen years for science and technology to realize their full potential, and by the 1950s, missile boat technology had reached a point where a single nuclear armed missile submarine could launch up to five nuclear warheads from more than five hundred miles away. Beginning in 1957, the United States Navy conducted nuclear deterrence patrols using a pair of World War II-era diesel submarines modified to carry a pair of Regulus nuclear-capable cruise missiles.  They were soon supplemented by a pair of purpose-built Greyback-class vessels and the nuclear-powered USS Halibut (SSGN 587). These five boats provided valuable real-world experience in operating a seaborne nuclear deterrent.  However, the effectiveness of the subsonic Regulus missile, with its limited range, a host of guidance limitations, and vulnerabilities to enemy defenses and countermeasures (both the missile in flight and the submarine having to surface to fire), was soon outpaced by technology.  To overcome these drawbacks, the Navy turned to a new and more advanced weapon, the ballistic missile.    

Polaris missile launch in July 1960 (Naval History and Heritage Command)

The first workable submarine-launched ballistic missile used by the United States Navy was introduced in 1960. Named Polaris, after the North Star, the missile grew from experiments by noted physicist Edward Teller that allowed for miniature hydrogen bombs to be fitted on missiles for anti-submarine warfare as part of Project Nobska in 1956. Drawing on experimental experience with the Army’s liquid-fueled Jupiter missiles, the two-stage solid fueled Polaris made its operational debut for the United States Navy in February 1960 after just four years of testing and development.  Found in thirty-one of the forty-one ballistic missile submarines (SSBNs) that were in commission for the United States Navy between 1960 and 1990, it proved both a long lasting and valuable component of the United States nuclear triad during the Cold War. Larger (32ft 4in) and heavier (35,700lb) than the previous cruise missiles, Polaris could deliver three W58 thermonuclear warheads with a total yield of 600kt out to a distance of 2,500 nautical miles. Surprisingly accurate, each 200kt W58 warhead could land within 3,000 feet of its intended target, impressive for 1960s technology. Launched from a mobile and submerged platform and possessing a top speed of 8,000 miles an hour, Polaris was all but utterly immune to interception prior to launch and impossible to hit afterwards with the technology available at the time. The more powerful and longer ranged Trident and Trident II missiles eventually replaced the Polaris missile, and are currently carried by the Ohio-class SSBNs.

A view of the missile compartment "Sherwood Forest" aboard USS George Washington (Naval History and Heritage Command) 

Polaris first went to sea aboard the world’s first purpose-built SSBN, the USS George Washington, which was built at the Electric Boat Corporation of Groton, Connecticut. On the morning of November 1, 1958, workers laid down the keel of a new attack submarine to be named USS Scorpion (SSN 589). Modified while under construction by the addition of a 130-foot-long missile compartment and renamed USS George Washington (SSBN 598), the former Scorpion, now the world’s first ballistic missile submarine, slid into the water on June 9, 1959. It formally joined the fleet on December 30 of that year. A true underwater leviathan, Washington, affectionately nicknamed “Georgefish,” displaced 6,800 tons, measured 381 feet long, with a beam of 33 feet, and required a crew of 112 officers and men. Armed with sixteen Polaris missiles and six  torpedo tubes, George Washington would be the first of a planned five Washington-class ballistic missile submarines.  

Loading a Polaris missile aboard George Washington for testing in July 1960. Pictured is the outer fiberglass "sleeve" around the missile. (Naval History and Heritage Command)

After sea trials and under the command of Commander James Osborn, the boat set course for Cape Canaveral, Florida in June 1960, where the crew took on a pair of Polaris missiles for testing purposes. On July 20, 1960, USS George Washington became the first submarine to launch a ballistic missile while submerged on the Atlantic Test Range. At 12:39 PM, Osborn sent the message “POLARIS - FROM OUT OF THE DEEP TO TARGET. PERFECT” to President Eisenhower. Less than two hours later, the missiles hit their target some 1,300 miles away. The successful test, carried out under the personal supervision of Polaris project director Rear Admiral William Raborn, marked a new, and more terrifying, world order.

(Wikimedia Commons)

Rear Admiral Raborn (center) aboard the submarine after the successful Polaris test launch in July 1960 (Naval History and Heritage Command)

After this brief flirtation with fame, USS George Washington settled into the repetitive duty of deterrence patrols near the coastline of the Soviet Union.  In 1970, the submarine reported for a refueling at Charleston, South Carolina in 1970 after having traveled some 100,000 nautical miles the previous decade. Next, George Washington reported to Pearl Harbor, Hawaii for service with the Pacific Fleet. The submarine concluded its final deterrence patrol in 1982 prior to disarmament as a SSBN the next year in compliance with the terms of the SALT I Treaty.  It briefly served as an attack submarine after the removal of its Polaris missiles. 

Sail from SSBN 598 at U.S. Navy Submarine Force Museum (Wikimedia Commons)

USS George Washington was decommissioned on January 24, 1985, and later scrapped at Puget Sound Naval Yard.  The submarine’s sail, or conning tower, is on display in Groton, Connecticut, at the Submarine Force Museum, where it can be seen today.  Preserving peace, yet constantly prepared for war, USS George Washington carried some of the deadliest weapons ever devised by man. Similarly, the current submarine fleet, as well as future Columbia-class SSBNs being built will be charged with maintaining the sea-based nuclear deterrent for the United States of America and with it, the balance of terror that has kept the peace for the last seventy-five years.