CHAPTER VI

Screen Duty with the Fast Carrier Task Force 38

21 AUGUST 1944 - 28 OCTOBER 1944

Nothing of great importance was now scheduled for the Southwest Pacific Forces until the occupation of Morotai Island, halfway between New Guinea and Mindanao in the Philippines, on 15 September, but much more activity was scheduled in the Central Pacific now that the Fifth Fleet had some rest after the seizure of the Marianas and the Battle of the Philippine Sea. Nonetheless, while we were waiting orders to whatever we did manage to scrounge a New Guinea liberty or two while periodically at anchor in Humboldt Bay. A liberty boat – our captain’s gig or a borrowed LCVP – could put a few off-duty sailors with an officer or two at a little pier on the western shore of the bay, carrying a case or so of cheap GI beer, and they have an absolutely fantastic two hours there on a lovely, unspoiled strand of beach about a 10-minute walk to the north. Palm trees and all ! What fun – swimming off from a nearby coral reef and then diving straight down as long as you could hold your breath and coming back up for one of your two beers ! One day, however some of the resourceful crew scouted around in brush and captured a very fine specimen of a horse, upon which CWT L.C. Gore graciously agreed to display his mastery of the art of equitation, or, more simply , horsemanship. He was so good that an encore was not considered necessary.

Soon, then, Swanson, Wilkes, Nicholson, and Grayson were detached and ordered to proceed from a rendezvous off Manus Island to Eniwetok in the Marshall Islands, and there to report to CTF 58, Admiral Marc A. Mitscher. We were on our way steaming generally northeast in a line of bearing formation by late on 20 August. It was over a thousand nautical mile run and it was early afternoon of the 25^th that we formed column with Wilkes in the lead and steamed for the first time into the presence of “THE BIG BLUE FLEET” to become a part of it. It was rare indeed for this mighty fighting fleet to all be in any one anchorage at any given time, and the total number gathered there that afternoon is uncertain. Admiral William F. Halsey, Jr., had sailed from Pearl Harbor the previous day in his brand new flagship USS New Jersey (BB-62), escorted by three destroyers , and would assume command the next day while still enroute. At that time the Fifth Fleet became the Third Fleet and the main striking force thereof became Task Force 38.

The composition of this force varied somewhat almost constantly, but a reasonable average for the time when we served in it would be eight carriers (seven of the new Essex class plus the redoubtable USS Enterprise CV-6 “The Big E”, eight light fast carriers, six battleships, eight cruisers and about sixty destroyers. It formed into Task Groups 38.1 )CTG VADM John S. “Old Slew” McCain, 38.2 (CTG RADM Gerald E. Bogan), 38.3 (CTG RADM Frederick C. Sherman), and 38.4 (CTG RADM Ralph E. Davison ). At the time we reported our group was composed as follows:

TASK GROUP 38.4, CTG RADM Ralph E. Davison

CARRIERS:

USS’s Franklin (Flagship) and Enterprise

Light Carrier:

USS San Jacinto. (USS Belleau Wood would join us later.)

Cruisers:

USS’s New Orleans and Biloxi .

Destroyers:

USS’s Bagley, Cogswell, Craven, Grayson, Gridley, Helm, Maury, Mugford, McCall, Nicholson, Patterson, Swanson, Ralph Talbot, Wilkes, Wileman, and Wyman.

At 0445 the morning of 28 August the order went out to “sortie the fleet”, and we were underway and falling in with our other destroyers in column behind the Maury to exit the lagoon of Eniwetok Atoll and form a circular screen around the major ships of our group as they came out to take their stations in the central part of their “big wheel” formation. Our initial station was bearing 090 degrees relative from San Jacinto, the group guide in the center of the formation, at a distance of three miles.

We had though that TF 38 was an impressive sight when we arrived but someone should have told us “you ain’t seen nothing yet!” The entire force was rarely all together in one small area, but usually perhaps three groups carrying out a primary mission while the other group(s) were somewhere else possibly scouting or screening against the possible approach of the enemy, or maybe refueling, or striking a secondary target. Each group always steamed in its own “big wheel” and thus could change course quickly without realigning its orientation. It was routine to form new special purpose groups, such as when a bombardment was called for or something else. Speed was inherent. We forgot about nine knots, as twenty was routine, and much more quickly, whenever the FOX flag was hoisted on the carriers, meaning, “I am conducting flight operations.” They would always head into the wind whenever they were launching or recovering planes. Frequently minor course changes without warning were routine, as when the planes were heavily loaded for a long strike, the carrier captains, all aviators themselves would “milk” all they could out of any change in wind direction. However slight.

Another part of flight operations which kept the destroyer OOD’s , signalmen, and lookouts constantly on the alert was the practice of a single carrier needing to launch or recover just a very few planes when the CTG did not see fit to change the whole group’s course. That’s when the carrier would head into the wind, putting on speed all alone until it was became clear that she would break out of the screen. The screening destroyers then had to do some fast maneuvering calculations to determine as quickly as possible which two of them would, without orders leave the screen and escort the individual carrier, one on either bow, until she returned. Also the other “little boys” were expected to then adjust their alignments to fill the gap until they returned. All this at high speed ! We had a lot to learn after seven months of escorting LST’s , but we learned fast. As we sailed one or two destroyers would be detached each night to take station 12 miles from the formation as radar picket ships. The normal, or anti-submarine, screening distance for the destroyers from the guide was 6,000 yards, but when the anti-aircraft disposition was called for they closed in to 4,000 yards.

IWO JIMA – CHICHI JIMA

Our mission on sailing from Eniwetok was to strike enemy strongholds in the Volcano and Bonin Islands – the “Jimas”- which lie in a north-south line about halfway between Saipan in the Marianas and Tokyo, Japan, roughly 600 miles from each. Chichi Jima is in the Bonins and Haha and Iwo Jima are in the Volcanoes, with lots of other islands up and down the chain.

On 31 August in the evening watch we went to a 20-minute general quarters due to enemy aircraft reported in the area and also commenced zigzagging. We were now very much into an unfriendly area as we approached the targets. At 2330 hours our cruisers and four destroyers were detached and proceeded to their assigned positions for bombarding enemy strongholds. We shifted our screening station to 045 degrees relative from the guide. We had another bogey alert and general quarters late in the midwatch on the morning of the first of September.

Fifteen minutes after we secured it was back to GQ again for the dawn alert. At 0425 we were at 28 knots and our carriers began launching planes for strikes on Iwo Jima and Chichi Jima. In the late morning they launched a second wave and recovered the first. At 1607 hours they began their final recovery for the day and a couple of hours later the cruiser/destroyer bombardment group returned to the formation and things calmed down for a reasonably quiet night. We withdrew from the immediate area, moving westward from the islands, but staying well within range for new strikes the next day.

The next day, 2 September, was more of the same. By the beginning of the forenoon watch the bombardment group had left on their mission and the carriers had launched and recovered one strike and were launching the second. This activity went on all day. We could see the planes over the islands both on their bombing/strafing runs and in dog fights with the enemy, some of them over and around a mountain called Mount Suribachi.

Late in the morning we observed some of our fighters circling low over the water off Chichi Jima and making strafing runs on some nearby boats. We heard on the circuits that a flight crew had parachuted from a shot-up TBF (torpedo Bomber) and that a submarine was approaching for the rescue. Japanese boats were also after the man in the water, the only survivor. After the submarine USS Finback picked him up there was some circuit chatter about his being the youngest carrier pilot in the US Navy. We didn’t catch his name, if it was announced. It wouldn’t have made any difference, as none of us knew a George Bush. He didn’t get back to his carrier, the San Jacinto , until weeks later.

A half-hour into the dogwatches the bombardment ships returned to the formation and the carriers began their final recovery of planes from the Volcano/Bonin Islands strikes. Base course was set at 175 degrees at 20 knots for the island of Saipan, which had been secured on 9 July after much bitter fighting which entailed the deaths of 3426 American soldiers and Marines and over 24,000 Japanese, as well as thousands of suicidal civilians.

SAIPAN VISIT

The third of September was a routine Task Force Group 38.4 cruising until mid- afternoon when we were alerted to the approach of an American B-24 heavy bomber having difficulties in flight. They elected to parachute instead of ditching and as they descended the nearest destroyers in the screen picked out specific ‘chutes and went to their rescue. At 1530 hours Second Lieutenant R.E. McBride 07475909, AUS, who was bombardier of the aircraft and attached to Bombing Squadron 38, 30^th Group, was “ rescued from water and brought aboard Swanson”. His physical condition was good.

The Island of YAP – ULITHI Atoll

Our task group departed the Saipan area the next day and steamed southwest toward the island of Yap and Ulithi Atoll. The planes from Franklin and Enterprise made one strike on them the afternoon of 6 September while still enroute.

Before the call to dawn general quarters on 7 September our bombardment group had left us and the planes were airborne from the carriers shortly afterwards, all for strikes on Yap Island and Ulithi Atoll. The strike activity went on all day, and in late afternoon Swanson and Wilkes were ordered to radar picket stations 12 miles ahead of the task group.

We were relieved by two other destroyers and returned to the formation about dawn on the eighth, during a repeat of the previous day’s morning evolutions for delivering more punishment onto any military – appearing installations remaining on the target islands.

At 1600 the carriers began recovering their planes and base course was set at 175 degrees for Peleliu, in the Palau Islands, which lie just west of the Western Carolinas where Yap and Ulithi are located.

On September 8^th, at 1702, barely settled in for our short passage, when Swanson was ordered to break off from the task group and return alone at 20 knots to the vicinity of Yap to find and rescue a downed aviator. He had been sighted by another flyer, apparently in good shape, in his tiny one-man inflatable raft.

Sixteen minutes into our first independent assignment with the Third Fleet we developed a bearing casualty in the starboard low-pressure turbine. This involved first slowing, then stopping all engines, securing boilers #2 and #3, and engaging the jacking gear on the starboard shaft. We then proceeded making revolutions for 15 knots on the port engine only until 0300 when, repairs completed, we resumed speed of 15 knots on 9 September we picked up a surface radar contact and made a cautious approach, using voice radio to identify the submarine USS Gar, which had been called in to assist in the search.

We divided the close-in search with the Gar, sending them one way while we worked another, taking into account the currents and especially the winds emanating from the area of the sighting the previous afternoon.

At 0951 a plane, which the Franklin had sent back to assist, spotted the raft and directed us towards it. Ten minutes later we retrieved from the water, with his raft, Ensign Robert E. Slingerland, USNR, attached to Fighting Squadron 13 USS Franklin.

LTJG Charles F. Reynolds, Jr., welcomed him at the sea ladder and was surprised at his first words: “You know I could sink your destroyer with my machine guns.” One of our crew remembered having watched him chain-smoking cigarettes during our approach to his craft and asked him about the urgency of his habit. His explanation was that he was out of matches! We took him back to his ship anyway.

PELEIU

Task Group 38.4 had slowed for refueling and at 24 knots we caught up with the supporting tankers and refueled from USS Neosho before rejoining the screen in a new station bearing 144 degrees true from the guide, zigzagging on base course 035 degrees, early in the evening of 9 September. TG 38.4 was now just cruising in formation in a large area northwest of Palau Islands while the carrier planes struck enemy installations in the little archipelago. Babelthaup was by far the largest group, which contained less 200 square miles. Peleliu and the even tinier Angaur were targeted for landing by the 1^st Marine Division and parts of an Army Infantry division, respectively. Meanwhile, far to the west other groups of Task Force 38 were making preliminary strikes in the Philippines.

At 0523 hours on the 10^th our carriers launched their strikes on Palau, and an hour later Swanson went alongside the Franklin and returned their happy Ensign Slingerland to her. We then returned to a new screening station bearing 324 degrees true from the guide.

This was the first of five straight days of constant pounding of the enemy with air strikes, enhanced by bombardment by all heavy ships, including battleships from another task group, and their escorting destroyers, beginning 12 September.

During the second wave of aerial strikes on the 15^th the huge transports of the Third Amphibious Force, commanded by VADM Theodore S. “Ping” Wilkinson, began landing the 45 thousand Marines, commanded by Major General W.H. Rupertus, on five adjacent beach areas on the western shore of Peleliu near the southern end of the island. At the same time, also supported by part of Task Force 38, our old friends in the Seventh Amphibious Force were capturing Morotai, west of New Guinea, with little difficulty. On 17 September the Army’s 81^st Division went ashore on tiny Angaur, about six miles southwest of Peleliu, and it was secured within about 72 hours. Peleliu itself , however, was another story.

Colonel Nakagawa’s 5000 Japanese troops, plus as many engineering and construction personnel, contested the landings bitterly, causing the loss of 210 Marine dead and 900 wounded the first day. Stretching northeast from left flank of the landing beaches was a steep, high coastal massif called Umurbrogol, which was laced with scores of caves in which the enemy eventually holed up, and where they had previously stored huge supplies of food and ammunitions Each cave was a problem, with napalm and flame throwers frequently being the only solution. The biggest cave sheltered over 1000 troops. Another problem ashore was a shortage of water and 115 degrees daytime temperatures.

Not until the night of 24-25 November would the last resistance cease, after Colonel’s suicide, ordered by their Emperor. Very few prisoners were taken; American deaths approached 2000.

The routine screening of TG 38. 4 carriers’ continuing support of our forces ashore with on –call strikes went on about two more days until we had to drop out of the formation one evening due to a failure of the soot blower on the main steam line in the after fire room, resulting in temporary loss of power to the gyrocompass and necessitating securing the port engine for about two hours, after which we returned to the screen. The next day TG 34.8 left the Palau Islands group and we headed for an anchorage which we help secure back in April .

SEEADLER HARBOR

Having crossed the Equator southbound for the second time, very early in the morning (with no nee or desire for ceremony this time), we arrived off the Admiralties in the late afternoon of 21 September and entered Seeadler Harbor with all the rest of TG38.4, in a reversal of the sortie procedure we had used at Eniwetok. Again, it was one more magnificent sight to see so much of a vast fleet anchored in that fine harbor, which was rapidly becoming one of our most important Pacific bases. We went alongside a tanker, USS Leopard, and fueled as soon as we arrived and then moored in an anchored nest alongside the Nicholson.

“THE FLEET THAT CAME TO STAY”

TG 38.4 sorties Seeadler Harbor on the 24^th, somewhat expanded in numbers of both ships and personnel. The most noticeable change was the addition of the fast light carrrier USS Belleau Wood to our striking power. Swanson had received on board some much needed people both enlisted and commissioned, as we had transferred off quite a few more than we received while in the Pacific.

The air group assigned to the Belleau Wood, as well as replacement aircraft for the other carriers were flown out to land aboard after we left. One of Belleau Wood’s pilots got cold feet about landing and kept circling for another approach many times before he finally set it down in a perfect landing. This held up our setting course for our destination for a while, but we were soon on our way to an area between the Palaus and the island of Samar, in the Philippines.

Task Force 38 earned the sobriquet in the section title above because it turned out to be a long cruise indeed. This forthcoming long stay at sea could not have been executed without the logistical support of the fantastic train of tankers, ammunition ship, dry storage ships, “reefers”, tugs and scores of escorts that were always kept waiting in turn not too far over the horizon to supply our every need.

A major source of morale support for all our hands came in the form of amazingly frequent mail from home. In our earlier Pacific months mail had been agonizingly erratic, but it was now better than anyone could expect. It would be flown out to the carriers and distributed to the other ships by destroyers.

A great tactical improvement had been implemented since our first duty with the carriers, which was the practice of having escorting destroyers hold their stations in the screen by true compass bearings from the formation guide rather than relative to the guide’s heading. This greatly increased the effectiveness of the “Big Wheel” and saved innumerable fluctuations in speed for the destroyers.

Our mission for the next two weeks seemed sort of mysterious at the time, but in retrospect it became quite clear: Control the Philippine Sea

The Pacific behind us was now quite secure, except for a few submarines. The Imperial Japanese Navy was now waiting in the Sea of Japan and the East and South China Seas to husband and rebuild their strength until the Allies struck at a major target closer to their homeland.

On 29 September when we experienced an event unique to us, and saddening. He had not been missed at breakfast, as there was no muster for meals, but at 0800 Adrian Curtis Wiles, RM3c, (V-6), 666 38 68, USNR did not appear in the radio shack where he was to stand the forenoon watch. A thorough search of the ship was made, along with repeated calls for him over the speakers. At 0835 the crew mustered at quarters, an unusual occurrence at sea. The Task Group Commander was notified at that time and the destroyer Craven and a plane from the Franklin were sent to backtrack the sea in search of him to no avail. Questioning the crew, especially the C Division, yielded no information at all except his having seemed alright when he was relieved from the evening watch and turned in at midnight. The seas had been moderate all night, with nothing worse than a bit of wetness on the main deck. The only solution was a puzzling “missing at sea.” The Swanson’s only loss at sea had been a good sailor, a fine radioman, and a pleasant shipmate.

In the late afternoon of 5 October the communications officer opened the coding room safe at the scheduled time and took our sealed orders to the chart room, where Captain Ratliff, “Commodore” Greenacre, and Lt. O’Neill, the exec and navigator, gathered to learn our new destination and mission. They searched the chart several minutes until the navigator exclaimed, “There it is!” and pointed.

The communicator followed with “My God! It’s Japan!” And so it was. Okinawa, in the Ryukyu Islands, or Nansei Shoto, a line of small islands at the extreme southwestern tip of Japanese Archipelago, was to be struck in force by the entire Task Force 38 five days thence. The same orders and operation plan were being read in all the other ships at the same time, and at 1700 our base course was set to effect rendezvous with the other three task groups 45 hours later.

While enroute to the rendezvous area about 350 miles north of Ulithi and west of Saipan, and early in the afternoon of 7 October voice radio contact was established by Admiral Davison’s staff in Franklin with that of Admiral Bill Halsey himself, Commander Third Fleet in New Jersey BB-62, and shortly thereafter with CTF 38, CTG 38,1, AND CTG 38.2. Within five minutes we had several of their ships on our surface radar at over 20 miles distance, and very soon after that Task Group 38.3 checked in. After several course changes by all groups the rendezvous was completed at 1700 hours, and an initial base course was established for the entire Task Force 38 slightly east of north for a rendezvous with the fleet tankers, Task Group 30.89.

We heard them on the voice circuits an hour and a half into the mid-watch and sighted them at 0515. We fueled from the Enterprise while she drank from a tanker at the same time. The day, 8 October, was busy with all ships refueling, mail being delivered, and patrols being launched. Early in the afternoon Swanson sighted and sank a derelict section of an aircraft pontoon float with 140 rounds of 20mm gunfire and 188 rounds of 40mm. Our last ship to return to station after fueling was our flagship, Franklin, at 2205, and we headed to the northwest for the 750+ mile run to the targeted island.

His flagship New Jersey and her escorts were sailing as part of RADM Bogan’s TG38.2 VADM Mitscher’s flagship Lexington was in RADM Frederick Sherman’s TG38.3, and his new flag flew in the carrier Essex. Some folks were calling Essex “The Big E”, since she was the lead ship of the new class of CV’s but that name belonged forever to CV-6, Enterprise , sailing with Swanson in TG 38.4.

As we forge ahead all day on 9 October I must quote a sentence from page 428 of The Two-Ocean War, by Samuel Eliot Morison: “The great flattops, constantly launching and recovering aircraft; the new battleships with their graceful sheer, tossing spray and leaving a boiling wake; the cruisers bristling with antiaircraft guns; the destroyers darting, thrusting and questing for lurking submarines all riding crested seas of deepest ultramarine; the massive trade-wind clouds casting purple shadows – all together composed a picture of mighty naval power.”

Whatever the effect of all this, the Task Force moved in behind a weather front and beginning at 0543 on 10 October began an all-day series of aerial strikes on Okinawa Jima, from an area about 100 miles offshore. The objective was to eliminate the enemy’s air strength in the Ryukyus. Our planes flew 1,396 sorties. While our ships were alerted twice in late afternoon to the possibility of theirs being airborne, only two of them showed up and were quickly eliminated by our overhead Combat Air Patrol (CAP) and caused no problem. About a hundred of their planes were destroyed at a cost of twenty-one of ours. In addition they lost a submarine tender and a number of torpedo boats, midget submarines, and small freighters. No American ships received, either near Okinawa or Marcus.

At 1350 our carriers launched a four-hour strike on Luzon, the northernmost major island of the Philippines. We then headed in for a major two-day aerial assault on Formosa, about 60 miles southeast of Foochow, China. It is a fairly large island, about the size of Massachusetts and Connecticut combined. Now known as Taiwan, it is whence we get so many of our under garments and electronic necessities today. Our mission was to destroy the enemy’s air strength on Formosa and a tiny neighboring archipelago called The Pescadores, and to deny the enemy its use as a staging base for operations against the Leyte area, where the Allies had scheduled a landing eight days hence.

During the night we steamed into the strike area with all boilers lighted off, and after a 90-minute general quarters, alerted from our flagship Franklin, went through the routine GQ again and watched the planes depart on their strike assignments at 0550 on 12 October.

After our navigator completed his dawn star sights and the necessary calculations he came back onto our bridge and announced to all that we were at that time west of the longitude of Shanghai, China. A couple of disbelievers went into the chart room to check him out, and he was right.

There were two more periods of the carriers recovering and launching aircraft for strikes and patrols during the morning, with the numerous course and speed changes. At 1317 while another such evolution was in progress Swanson was delivering the mail again.

At 1415 we had to postpone our immediate mission for general quarters while our CAP shot down one of them over TG38.4 After ten minutes we resumed our “appointed rounds” and returned to our screening station at 1725. At 1900 we had unfriendlies overhead again, and maneuvering by the formation replaced planned zigzagging for a while.

During the evening watch anther GQ was called, and at 2128 we obtained a good radar track on a bogey back to the east and fired 17 rounds of 5” at him, without effect.

It had been a busy day indeed, with 1,378 sorties flown against the enemy by the aircraft from all four groups of the task force. They destroyed about 200 enemy aircraft, but lost nearly fifty. We stayed at battle stations well on into the 13^th.

NAVY DAY, 13 OCTOBER

The deck log of the Swanson for the midwatch made no mention of the “holiday”, but it was to be one that we would all remember. “Formation in anti-aircraft disposition steaming at various courses at various speeds during air alert. Ship at general quarters. Condition of readiness set in gun and torpedo batteries, material ABLE set throughout the ship. Ship is darkened, Boilers #1, #2, #3, #4 in use for steaming purposes. --------0227 secured from General Quarters -------0310 Sounded general quarters, unidentified planes in area. ------- at various courses and speeds during air alert.” We secured from general Quarters shortly after dawn.

We did not go to battle stations again until briefly early in the dogwatch. However, TF38’s planes flew 974 sorties against Formosa before noon. The same activity continued until 1620 when all available fighter planes were launched to answer a report of a large group of the enemy detected to the south. We secured at 1827, but an hour later a report of “Big Butt Betty” torpedo bombers in the area proved quite true and threatening. It seemed like they were coming from all directions against all our groups at the same time, mainly concentrating on the carriers. Swanson commenced firing at 1834, first at one approaching from our port quarter. We took two others under fire, and then a final one that came up on our starboard quarter and cut across our bow towards the carriers at what seemed well below our masthead height, firing at us but scoring no hits. We definitely hit him with our machine guns at very close range, but he was not splashed until he dropped his torpedo, which headed for the Franklin but missed. We fired a total of 43 rounds of 5”, 47 40mm, and 37 20mm. All of the enemy planes were destroyed, and the Franklin did receive one hit, but fortunately with very little damage. The carriers Hancock and Hornet in TG38.1 and the cruiser Reno in TG38.1 also received minor damage.

As the moon rose to replace the setting sun one of our bridge personnel counted over a dozen funeral pyres of Japanese aircraft still burning or faintly flickering on the 20 –square –mile area of our Task Group. We felt very lucky, but others were not as fortunate.

In “Old Slew” McCain’s TG38.1 the heavy cruiser Canberra had been hit hard and was lying dead in the water. Admiral Halsey decided to try towing her the 1300 miles to Ulithi Atoll, which was now a major support base. He ordered other ships to escort their four-knot passage. They were to be joined soon after by the light cruiser Houston, from RADM Bogan’s TG38.2, who took a torpedo the following afternoon.

This hapless force was first nicknamed CripDiv 1, but that was soon changed to BaitDiv 1, in hopes the enemy would interpret their radio signals as BATDIV 1, normally use by battleships divisions. They served as an effective decoy to lure enemy planes within range of a force of three light carriers and four destroyers waiting just over the horizon. Sounded fine, until Houston took another “fish” on the sixteenth, but survived.

Meanwhile, back in the Swanson, TG38.4 was ordered to proceed independently to an area northeast of Luzon, as Third Fleet’s striking power would now be distributed over the northern two-thirds or so of the Philippines for the next week. Admiral Nimitz spoke of the previous week as “one of the most successful..since the war began.”

The Japanese people, however, were advised by their government of a great victory over the United States Navy in which their forces had sunk eleven of our carriers, two battleships, three cruisers, and one destroyer. Nineteen other ships were claimed as damaged. A national holiday in celebration was proclaimed.

Admiral Halsey’s reply to ADM Nimitz’s inquiry regarding this was: “All Third Fleet ships reported by Tokyo radio as sunk have now been salvaged and are retiring in the directions of the enemy. “

When President Roosevelt heard about this he took great delight in releasing Halsey’s message to the American public, and then sent the following to his old friend of many years, Bill: “It is with pride that the country has followed your fleet’s magnificent sweep into enemy waters. In addition to the gallant fighting of your flyers, we appreciate the endurance and super seamanship of your forces.”

On the 14 Task Group 38.4 ‘s planes made two strikes on Luzon, and repulsed enemy aircraft reported in the area.

At 0940 we went alongside the Franklin after a slow approach, using a towline, and commenced fueling from her. Forty minutes later both ships went to General Quarters because enemy planes reported in the area. We disconnected from the fueling hoses, even though we hadn’t fully topped off, and cast off the tow line within one minute, proceeding quickly to our normal station in the anti-aircraft screen, with the entire formation maneuvering radically in evasive tactics. This was no false alarm. We fired intermittently for several minutes at different dive-bombers as they came within range, expending 43 rounds of 5”, 120 40mm, and 400 mm projectiles.

KAMIKAZE

During the melee we notice one bomber making an almost vertical dive on the Franklin into heavy fire from many guns and crashing into the sea so close to her that some debris from its explosive crash landed on the carrier’s flight deck. Four days later the Japanese Imperial Headquarters announced that their Admiral Arima had died in such a way. We believe that we had witnessed the first of the Kamikazes, but we have no way of knowing the name of the Samurai from the sky that we saw go down.

There were two more anti-aircraft alerts during the afternoon, but our fighter pilots handled them. The next day, 16 October, TG 38.4 withdrew to a fueling rendezvous well east of Luzon. We refueled again, this time from the tanker USS Lakawanna, and the whole task group was back within striking distance of Luzon again at 0548 on the 17^th, when the carriers launched the first of five strikes that day. At 1015 the Wilkes left the screen to attempt the rescue of survivors of a downed plane 50 miles away to the west-southwest. She returned five hours later, successfully.

In the same area on 18 October the planes were on their way to their assignments on Luzon early in the dawn alert. They were launching again at 0800, just as Task Group 38.1 under VADM McCain joined up near us, but maintaining their own separate formation. There were other strikes launched in early afternoon.

In the late afternoon the Enterprise moved westward of our main body, escorted by the Helm and the Gridley. Her planes had made some very long range strikes and many of them were running quite low on fuel . When our TG38.4 needed to withdraw to the east the Swanson and the Wilkes were sent to join the Enterprise and the other destroyers in what was now a search for plane crews who had been forced to ditch for lack of fuel. Still steaming to the west at 2305 we sighted a flickering light on our port beam about 70 miles from the coast. We put the 12” searchlight on them and , 25 minutes later, took aboard from their rubber raft Lieut. W.W. Anderson USNR, the pilot, and his crewman Aviation Radioman 2/c J. V. Marquez. Their lost plane was an F4F flying from the Enterprise in Flight 17. With them aboard in good physical condition we headed back to the main body with the Enterprise. The other destroyers returned to the screen separately between 0310 and 0545.

In the afternoon we went over to VADM McCain’s group, which was the largest in TF 38. They had three Essex class flattops and two Independence class. We highlined those bags of mail to his flagship the carrier Wasp. In return we received from them five rescued aviators to be returned to their carrier Enterprise.

The attack forces for the planned landing on Leyte Island had been gathering at their principal staging bases of Manus and Hollandia (see Chapter V herein) for several weeks. The Third Amphibious Force anchored in Seeadler Harbor, and our old friends of the the Seventh Amphib in Humboldt Bay. The escort carriers (CVE’s) formerly 3^rd Fleet, would serve as air cover for the whole fleet.

VADM Thomas Kinkaid commanded the naval force and Lt.Gen Walter Krueger the troops, with Gen. Douglas MacArthur in overall command, riding again in the repaired cruiser Nashville. Altogether it was a fleet of 738 ships, of which 157 were combatant ships, including six battleships and eight cruisers. Four hundred twenty were amphibious types or transports, and the balance patrol, minesweeping, and service types. If TF38 were included it equaled the Normandy force.

The vanguard of the assault was sighted by enemy outposts on tiny little Suluan Island, in the mouth of Leyte Gulf, on 17 October. Some of the outlying islands and peninsulas were occupied by our Rangers on the 17^th and 18^th, and the core of the assault was entering the gulf itself around midnight of the 19/20^th. The 20^th was Assault, or A-day. MacArthur did not want his day of promise to be confused with the D-day of Normandy, even though we had used d-day many times before.

The Japanese now did not have to guess where we would strike next. They had already signaled for commencement of their SHO Plan. “It must make a desperate effort to defeat the enemy.” Admiral Toyoda’s Chief of Staff had written the task force assigned the mission. Essentially all of their remaining naval strength was now enroute to Leyte Gulf, from different directions.

After a final bombardment of the landing beaches by the battleships and cruisers the troops landed on schedule at 0900 without heavy opposition. At 1042 our flag was raised by the 96^th Division at Dulag on Hill 102, and enemy strong point.

“PEOPLE OF THE PHILIPPINES, I HAVE RETURNED !

RALLY TO ME!”

The General waded ashore with his entourage in knee deep water about 1400, after his staff requested better landing arrangements from a harried beach master, whose reply was: “Let ‘em wait!” A microphone was waiting for him.

Meanwhile the Swanson had returned to TG38.4, where our carriers began launching planes for air coverage and strikes in support of the landings in progress on Leyte, from a position east of Samar.

Our activity started before dawn and continued well into the night. Formation course and speed changes were almost constant. We began the day transferring personnel to the Enterprise. Most were theirs, but our GM2c Roy E. Traylor also rode the highline to them for Medical treatment. Then it was alongside the Franklin to deliver freight, and she sent us to San Jacinto with more of the same.

In early afternoon we fueled from the Enterprise, as our gauge was very low. The sea had been somewhat rough for several days. While fueling the OOD’s of the two ships were manning sound-powered phones for quick course and speed information. “CV6: “Are you folks tired of eating sandwiches?” DD443: “Haven’t had any lately.” CV6: “That’s all we’ve been eating.” DD443: “WE just had a nice vegetable soup for lunch.”.

During the night Tg38.4 withdrew to the northeast for a fueling rendezvous with the fleet tankers. All ships fueled during the day, and we topped off from the Monongahela. Afterwards we did some more mail transferring with Wilkes and Patterson as we headed back to the eastward of Samar to render further support of the Leyte occupation, which was not proving an easy one.

During the wee hours of 22 October there was a great deal of rearranging the position of the three TG’s and we passed close to RADM Sherman’s 38.3, while RADM Bogan’s 38.2 joined 38.4 and 38.1 in close proximity. Around dawn the Franklin reported a possible man overboard, and the Nicholson left the screen to search for him but returned without success. Other DD’s handled the mail delivery, while the carriers sent their planes on long-range searches through out the day. They covered areas to the southwest and the northwest, but inexplicably not to the northeast.

Intelligence reports were indicating that most of the Imperial Japanese Navy had left their widespread bases without apparent objectives of Leyte Gulf.

THE BATTLE FOR LEYTE GULF

Sixteen minutes into the mid watch on 23 October our submarines Darter and Dace began close observance of distant radar indications seemingly headed from Brunei on the northeast coast of Borneo toward the middle of the Philippines. As the range closed they knew they had something big, and with visibility of dawn they transmitted a contact report and then attacked. This was ADM Kurita’s Central Force, consisting of five battleships, including the force flagship Musashi and the Yamato, ten heavy cruisers, two light cruisers, and 15 destroyers. The submarines attacked in tandem and sank two two heavy and damaged another. Their contact is considered to be the beginning of the greatest of all history, because now both knew where at least a major portion of their adversary was located.

An extremely heavy burden that every American sailor, from top to bottom in rank or rating, carried into this massive confrontation was that of total, almost unbearable fatigue. Task Force 38 / Third Fleet – the titles were synonymous at this time – had been at sea and either involved in or on way to involvement in action for many weeks. Not only were muscles sore, bone tired, from constant physical exertion eyes were bleary from lack of sleep. We were no longer dreaming of getting ashore in terms of unbridled freedoms, but of a few hours of uninterrupted sack time. It is not evident that the enemy was in bad a shape in those regards, since they had been relatively inactive since the Battle of the Philippine Sea, back in June.

During the day ADM Halsey dispatched “Old Slew” McCain’s TG38.1 the 750 miles back east toward Ulithi Atoll for replenishment and a few hours of rest. TG38.4 was scheduled to do the same the next days, but it was not to be. The three remaining groups refueled , rearranged their compositions somewhat, and settled into positions east of the Philippines. The battleships Alabama and Washington joined TG38.4 with three escorting destroyers, as we took patrolling station just off and slightly north of the eastern entrance to Leyte Gulf.

Our composition was then the CV’s Franklin (GF-RADM Davison) and Enterprise; CVL’s San Jacinto and Belleau Wood; BB’s Alabama and Washington; CA’s Wichita and New Orleans; and 15 DD’s.

RADM Bogan’s TG38.2 was steaming off to the northeast of Samar with CV Intrepid (GF); CVL’s Cabot and Independence; BB’s Iowa and New Jersey (F1F –ADM Halsey) ; CL’s Biloxi, Vincennes, Miami; and 16 DD’s.

Considerably northwest, off Polillo Island and within range of most of the land-based enemy planes still around, was RADM Sherman’s TG38.3: CV’s Lexington (FF-VADM Mitscher) and Essex (GF); CVL’s Princeton and Langley; BB’s Massachusetts and South Dakota: CL’s Santa Fe, Birmingham, Mobile, and Reno; and 13 DD’s .

Long – range aerial searches were being maintained in overlapping sectors searching far to the west all day. Meanwhile, TG38.1 was ordered to hasten their fueling enroute to Ulithi and rejoin the other groups.

The early morning searches on 24 October were successful in their quests, on both sides. Their land-based planes found TG38.3 and mortally wounded the CVL Princeton. The CL Birmingham went alongside to assist, and was decimated by an explosion in the carrier. The Princeton sank, but the Birmingham survived, albeit with more loss of personnel than the CVL, due to an almost total riddling of her superstructure.

Planes from our Task Group sighted three destroyers to the west of Panay Island and sank the Wakaba.

At about the same time a scout from the Enterprise, within five miles of the limit of his 325 mile search sector, ADM Nishjumra’s Southern Force, consisting of the battleships Fuso and Yamashiro, the heavy cruiser Mogami, and two DD’s, coming through the Sulu Sea. He got off his contact report and waited until 25 more planes from the big E arrived for a coordinated attack. They scored hits on all the ships. The Southern Force continued on however, toward Surigao Strait, joined enroute by three cruisers and four DD’s under ADM Shima. The Enterprise air group lost one plane, but its pilot – leader of fighter squadron – survived.

BATTLE OF THE SIBUYAN SEA

At 0746 on the 24^th a Helldiver scout from the Intrepid with TG 38.2 off San Bernadino Strait sighted Kurita’s Central Force rounding south of Mindoro and he and his mates began the attack at 0910. Bogan’s TG 38.2, being closest, bore the brunt of attacking most of the day, but were joined by strikes from 38.3, who were themselves being struck by land-based enemy planes.

Nearing dusk our TG38.4 was closing the strike range, and planes from Enterprise and Franklin joined in the attack, hitting two battleships and a light cruiser with torpedoes and bombs and considerable effect. The fearsome Musashi had been pounded all afternoon. She was so far down by the bow after Enterprise and Franklin planes struck her that Kurita shifted his flag to the Yamato and ordered her sister ship to ground herself on a shoal and continue the fight as a coastal fortress! She rolled over and sank, however, with 2000 men, before she could get into shallow waters. The last sighting of this force as darkness fell indicated a badly battered group of disorganized ships heading back to the west!

At about this time ADM Ozawa’s Northern Force of what eventually proved to be two hybrid battleship/ carrier conversions, one large and three small carriers, three light cruisers, and ten destroyers was finally spotted about 130 miles east of the northern coast of Luzon. The early sighting reports were quite confusing as to course and disposition, but there was no question about the presence of a major enemy force in that area.

With definite evidence that the long-suspected enemy carrier force was indeed approaching from the north, Admiral Halsey needed to make a decision. He felt sure that Admiral Kinkaid’s Seventh Fleet bombardment force could handle the Southern Force should they threaten Leyte Gulf and that the just-discovered and undamaged Northern Force, including carriers, posed a greater threat to our presence in the Philippines than did the badly battered Central Force. It was possibly not a viable factor in his decision, but he knew that Seventh Fleet did have 16 small, slow, escort carriers (CVE’s ) accompanied by 9 DD’s and 11 destroyer escorts (DE’s) stationed close – in off Samar to provide air cover, ground support, and anti-submarine protection to the assault force on Leyte. While numerous, these ships were highly specialized in a negative way for heavy duty sea fighting. Although all of his staff was not enthusiastic, and ADM Mitscher’s chief of staff, Arleigh Burke, expressed concern that Ozawa might be a decoy, the decision was made to go after the force north of us.

During the dog watches TF 38.4 joined and formed a new cruising disposition with 38. 2, setting course of 000 degrees as TG38.3 joined with us at midnight. The die was cast, both for action and confusion.

BATTLE OF SURIGAO STRAIT

After being attacked at 0805 by planes from the Enterprise, ADM Nishimura continued eastward with his Southern Force toward Surigao Strait, followed by ADM Shima and his smaller, and separate, command. They would turn North during the night as they passed between Dinagat and Leyte, hoping for a destructive and victorious rendezvous with ADM Kurita’s Central Force in Leyte Gulf. The two parts of the Southern Force, now joined consisted of two BB’s three CA’s one CL, and eight DD’s, including the Shigure.

ADM Kinkaid knew they were coming, and ordered Rear Admiral Jesse B. Oldendorf, using the heavy cruiser Louisville as his flagship, to plug the northern exit of the strait with the Seventh Fleet’s heavy bombardment group.

Oldendorf’s force consisted of six veteran BB’s (mostly salvaged from Pearl Harbor), four CA’s, four CL’s, twenty –six DD’s and a special assignment of thirteen 3 – boat squadrons of patrol torpedo (PT) boats. This formidable defensive force was dispersed assiduously along the approaches to the northern exit of the strait, where the battlewagons waited, steaming to-and-fro in column, as they had the “T” crossed before its base arrived.

Forty-five minutes before midnight of 24/25 October a PT spotted the van of the enemy force and attacked with its squadron mates, but they were driven off, partially at least by gunfire from the destroyer Shigure. They continued up the gauntlet of PT attacks, destroyer sweeps with guns and torpedoes, and then the cruisers’ gunfire. What must those people have thought? From the poetic reminiscence of other wars – “ Into the valley of death rode the six hundred” or “I have a rendezvous with death”?

By the time they reached the carefully calculated and almost preset ranges of our battle line the base approaching the top of the “T” comprised only the BB Yamashiro , the CA Mogami, and, yes, the Shigure. Our DD Albert W. Grant, meanwhile, lost power in the concentration of crossfire and was badly battered, but survived.

Yamashiro fought heroically, but went under, while the two others turned back. Mogami was caught and sunk by our aircraft later in the day, but Shigure returned to Borneo under own power.

The ubiquitous Shigure was eventually lost, butter her captain survived for a post-war interview. When asked how he and his fellow captains felt when told about their mission toward Leyte Gulf he responded, “We talked about it for a while, and then we had a few drinks.”

The enemy lost about 5,000 sailors in that confrontation, while our total loss was 39 killed and114 wounded, practically all in the Albert W. Grant and the PT boats.

BATTLE OFF SAMAR

“He served on Samar “ was an accolade that many old Leathernecks who served there decades earlier during the Philippine Insurrection wore with pride in the Marine Corps. Many American sailormen would speak with pride, but some with bitterness, of service eastward of that island’s shores after this day, 25 October.

The sixteen small, slow, escort carriers (CVE’s ) stationed offshore of the Leyte operation were divided into groups under the overall command of Rear Admiral Thomas Sprague, whose flagship Sangamon was in the southern most group, called Taffy 1, sailing that morning southeast of the entrance to Leyte Gulf , off Mindanao.

The group in the middle, Taffy 2 under RADM Felix Stump, was off southern Samar, and RADM Clifton Sprague’s Taffy 3 was north of them. They all assumed, due to a misunderstanding of detail in the messages from Halsey to Seventh Fleet’s commander.

VADM Tom Kinkaid , that San Bernardino Strait was inviolate, under the guard of Halsey’s six fast, modern battleships. Such was not the case.

Early morning, about an hour after Taffy 3 launched their Leyte support strikes as planned there came a quick succession of oriental-sounding voices on the radio circuits, sightings of antiaircraft bursts well over the morning twilight’s lee horizon to the northwest, and then unidentified surface radar contacts in the same area. Within an elapsed fifteen minutes the Japanese Central Force under ADM Kurita was first sighted by the CAP planes and then by a sharp-eyed signalman in the CVE Kitkun Bay with Taffy 3. Course and speed changes to escape this surprise threat were ordered immediately, and a two-and –a- half hour running sea fight was underway.

After ADM Halsey with TF 38, less TG 38.1 , headed north at midnight 24/25 October, believing that Kurita was still heading west with a defeated Central Force, the enemy reversed and headed again for their assigned rendezvous with ADM Nishimura’s Southern Force in Leyte Gulf . They were still a very formidable force consisting of four BB’s (including Yamato) , six CA’s , two CL’s , and ten DD’s . While planes from the other light carrier groups did assist, ADM Sprague’s Taffy 3 had only six CVE’s , three DD’s , and four DE’s: NOT A BIG GUN IN THE BATCH! In addition the planes from this force were not armed for, nor their pilots especially trained for, attacking enemy ships.

The ensuring battle between these mismatched forces was fought in frequent heavy rainsqualls and dense smoke, and featured a display of heroism without parallel. Beginning with a torpedo attack and continuing with gunfire the destroyer types fought the biggest and best of the enemy’s gun ships and inflicted severe damage, but paid heavily for it. The DD’s Hoel and Johnston went down fighting, as did the DE Samuel B. Roberts. As Johnston went down a swimming survivor observed the captain of a nearby Japanese destroyer rendering a long hand salute to a gallant ship. As Samuel B. Roberts went under the gun captain of her #2 mount, GM2c Paul Henry Carr, even though mortally wounded, was calling for someone to help him get off one more round from his wrecked gun.

Surrounded by battleships and cruisers the Hoel fired over a thousand rounds after being pounded into a hopeless condition. In addition the CVE Gambier Bay went down to gunfire, and the CVE Saint Lo to a land-based Kamikaze. Ten other of our ships were damaged.

ADM Oldendorf was busy loading ammunition on his ships after their battle of just a few hours previous, and ADM McCain’s TG 38.1 was still not within striking range as they headed back west from his aborted visit to Ulithi. ADM Halsey, steaming steadily north with the bulk of TF 38, was receiving the desperate calls for help from Seventh Fleet. While not ignoring them, he did not immediately respond, obviously convinced that his then “hot” pursuit of the enemy’s Northern Force was of greater import. It was beginning to look very definitely like ADM Kurita would make that planned rendezvous in Leyte Gulf, even though Nishimura would not be there to meet him.

About two-and-a-half hours after the gun fighting began the ships in Kurita’s van began turning left to the east and on around until they were headed back toward San Bernadino Strait, which they entered, somewhat erratically, about dusk after some long-range attacks by planes from McCain’s TG 38.1. Not until later did reasons become clear for this turn of events, a signalman on one of the surviving CVE’s was heard to remark as they came about, “Damn it, men! They’re getting away.”.

BATTLE OFF CAPE ENGANO

We now place our minds back aboard the Swanson, which we literately left at midnight of 24/25 October, 1944, steaming with Task Group 38.4 in a mass formation with TG’s 38.2 and 38.3 on base course 000 degrees true, enroute to make contact with the Japanese Northern Force under ADM Ozawa. This force had been spotted about dusk on the 24^th, roughly 130 miles east of the northern Philippines. Establishing a definite course and speed for it, as well as a specific composition, was proving difficult because their formation was somewhat scattered and the various sightings all seemed to indicate different course and because in fact the were not pressing on to reach any goal other than to distract Third Fleet and its fast carriers and battleships away from Leyte Gulf. The most salient fact of the information available to Admiral Halsey about this force, according to practically all historic accounts, was that enemy force including several aircraft carrier types and as yet not attacked by Third Fleet, or anyone else , was in that area. The target and mission for the Third Fleet was clear to its top command, despite reservations from some senior subordinates.

As we steamed north during the midwatch Swanson stationed due north of and three miles distant from our group guide, patrolling station with all boilers lighted off again. There were numerous formations course and speed changes as efforts were made to anticipate the enemy’s movements and especially not to blindly pass him in the night and let him get south of us. The Enterprise launched night fighter scouts at 0130. An hour later a search plane from the Intrepid in TG38.2 reported the enemy definitely still north of us. Twenty minutes later Halsey ordered execution of an earlier message of intent to form Task Force 34. Misinterpretation of that earlier message was what caused other commands to believe that the Third Fleet “gun club” was quietly guarding the eastern end of San Bernardino Strait. These commands had intercepted and decoded the message, but were not action addresses.

Every communication department in the Fleet was doing that during these hectic hours. Even if a ship was not involved in an order or report her skipper, and also in our case Capt. Greenacre (now ComDes Div 24) needed to know the situation was at all times, as well as Captain Ratliff. If a message were not labeled “URGENT” it would have never gotten through the maelstrom of radio traffic. Before the battle was over anything of real importance was being sent in plain language to avoid the delays of cryptography. There was no sleep for any command or communication personnel that night. Many of the crew got a decent rest, if the tension didn’t bother them. We did have a half hour General Quarters straddling 2100 the previous evening, but nothing developed.

Formation of TF 34 sent the six battlewagons of our force, accompanied by their own regularly assigned destroyers, plus cruisers and other destroyers, racing out to form a line of battle ten miles ahead of the carrier groups. Thus, Washington (Flagship of VADM Willis A. Lee, Jr., CTF 34 ) and Alabama left TG38.4 after about 36 hours with us , to sail in our immediate company no more. With them went Massachusetts, whom we had watched silence the Jean Bart at Casablanca 23 months ago, and South Dakota from TG 38.3, plus the fine brand-new Iowa and New Jersey, Halsey’s flagship, from 38.2 Four heavy cruisers, six light cruisers, and 18 destroyers complete that powerful surface fighting force.

Their departure engendered a substantial shuffling of ship alignments with in the Task Groups, which never did return to the previous structure . We went to battle stations at 0436, much earlier than the dawning would have called for, and at 0555 the destroyer screen tightened up to antiaircraft positions. The Enterprise launched a search patrol at 0637, and nearly an hour later searchers from the Essex in TG38.3 sighted the enemy’s Northern Force again bearing 014 degrees at a distance of 130 miles. The first strike from the carriers went off shortly thereafter and were over the target area by 0815. The carrier groups and the battle force out ahead went to flank speed to close the enemy. The first strike was successful and included some planes from both of TG38.4’s major carriers – Franklin and Enterprise. These, then, became the only aviators to engage elements of all three of the enemy forces. The strike was successful, but all involved wondered about the almost complete lack of Japanese planes either in the air or on their carrier’s decks.

Meanwhile, by about 0800, many miles to the south the Battle off Samar was rapidly developing into a desperate defensive struggle by the Seventh Fleet. The calls for help from their commands began to come in quick succession, eventually in plain language. They thought that TF 34 was nearby, but instead that force now had a bone in their teeth in hot pursuit of ADM. Ozawa’s decoy force.

A second air strike flew from our carriers at 0850, and engaged the enemy successfully, while reporting that they seemed to be splitting into two parts, adding to what was rapidly becoming a medley of communications confusion.

At 0957 the Swanson secured from General Quarters.

At 1115, with all hands straining their eyeballs in hope of becoming the first to sight the enemy, Adm. Halsey succumbed to the mishandling of an encoded message from his superior in Pearl Harbor , Adm. Nimitz, which confused the actual intent of the message, and he ordered the battle line to break off the chase and head south for the area of Samar. At about the same time he ordered Adm. McCain to change the destination of his TG 38.1 from rejoining the rest of 38 to support of the embattled jeep carriers off Samar. He also detached Adm. Bogan’s TG 38.2 from the attack on Ozawa to provided air cover for the battle line on their new assignment.

Two more air strikes were made on the Northern Force during the middle of the day, with orders to ignore cripples and stop the undamaged targets. However, in mid-afternoon planes from all hour carriers of TG 38.4 apparently finished off the Japanese carrier Zuikaku and badly damaged the Zuiho. The former was a veteran of Pearl Harbor.

There was a final fifth strike launched in late afternoon, and a fruitful chase of cripples was started by cruisers and destroyers about the same time. Eventually only three ships out of the nearly twenty comprising Ozawa’s decoy force returned to their collapsing empire.

During the evening Task Groups 38.2 and 38.4 headed south toward a fueling rendezvous the next morning, while other groups including many of the cruisers plus planes from TG 38. 1 continued pursuit for many hours, with gratifying results.

The Battle for Leyte Gulf as such was over, although the kamikazes attacks had barely begun. The decisions made in this monumental struggle, especially by Admiral Halsey and Kurita, would be analyzed, criticized, explained, and defended – cussed and discussed for decades. For our purposes herewith suffice it to say it was a great victory for American naval forces.

In the simplest of terms their 26 ships sunk were 4.33 times our six. The size and type of ship losses were much more impressive, as half of American ships sunk were destroyer types, while two thirds of the Japanese were battleships, carriers, and cruisers. They lost forty-five percent of their committed forces to our three percent. Our men lost were 3,000 compared to their 10,000 +. Most important of all was that they were left with far too few combatant ships to ever pose a threat again, with little replenishment capability. The U.S. Navy was still growing apace. If the Battle of Midway had been “the turning point”, then the Battle for Leyte Gulf was the “the beginning of the end.”

The next morning, the 26^th, we took on 82,489 gallons of fuel from the fleet tanker USS Atascosa . Later in the some of our cruisers and destroyers returned from their mop-up mission during the night. The carriers had planes up on patrols all afternoon.

At 1710 we received order #252223 from Admiral Halsey, forwarded by VADM Mitscher, for our Destroyer Division 24 , under Capt. Greenacre , to proceed eastward for rendezvous with a support group TG 30.8.11 for temporary duty enroute Ulithi Atoll. And so Swanson, Wilkes, and Nicholson departed Task Force 38 and the area of the Philippines.

Captain Ratliff’s action report to the Commander-in-Chief , U.S. Fleet, via the chain of command, covered the period of 21 October to 26 October and was dated 1 November 1944. His summary sentences read in part as follows: “No ordnance material or equipment was employed by this ship during the period described. No observation of enemy ordnance material and equipment was observed by this vessel. No battle damage was suffered by this ship. No personnel casualties were suffered aboard this vessel. The officers and crew performed their duties in a highly satisfactory manner.”

*******CONCLUSION CHAPTER VI ********

In the 59 days since we had sortied with elements of The Big Blue Fleet from Eniwetok Atoll we had dropped the hook only two times – once in an open roadstead off Saipan for a few grief hours and one time in Seeadler Harbor for not a great deal longer. This, however, was nothing to brag about I those diggings, because many of the fine ships we had sailed with had been underway much longer than we. It’s true, we were tired, worn out, exhausted. There had been some talk on board that this old ship’s propulsion mechanisms, from boiler 3 & 4’s tubes to propeller strut bearings, had more miles on them than any other ship in this man’s navy. It may well have been true. At the same time a strong feeling was growing that Swanson was indeed a lucky ship.

This feeling was strengthened soon after when word filtered through the systems that our former executive officer, Commander Arthur Montgomery Purdy ( a member of the committee putting this book together), had lost his command ABNER READ DD-526 to a vicious and determined Kamikaze attack in Leyte Gulf, where the “divine wind” of that tactic was beginning a months’ long suicidal struggle, since the enemy now had no effective surface force. They badly damaged Intrepid, Franklin, and Belleau Wood about the same time, and their onslaught continued against any of our forces within range of their land bases until the end of the war.

We were also fortunate in escaping another destructive wind – the violent typhoon that struck the Third Fleet a few weeks after our detachment, sending DD’s Hull, Monaghan, and Spence to the bottom with great loss of lives.

While escorting the fast carriers we had not used our weapons nearly as much as off New Guinea, but we had done our job and well in covering them for strikes on Iwo Jima, Chichi Jima, Yap, Ulithi, Okinawa, Formosa and the Philippines; and support of landings on Peleliu and Leyte. This was all climaxed by participation in the Greatest Naval Battle of all time (possibly including the future.)

We have nothing to be ashamed of in fact that we literally did not hear or see a shot fired or a bomb drop during that entire fray. There were thousands of sailors who had the same experience, for example, all of Task Group 38.1 except for a few of their aviators. Nonetheless, when the time comes,

We will answer good Saint Peter

and his challenge at the Gate!

“We sailed with old ‘Pete’ Mitscher

in his TASK FORCE THIRTY –EIGHT!”