Category: WESTPAC Deployment

Back on the line since 15 August, having relieved the Chicago, we had a VIP visitor on 19 August.

The Honorable John W. Warner, Undersecretary of the Navy, arrived via helicopter and spent several hours on board. Likely on tour of Navy units in the Vietnam area, he had a special reason to visit Biddle.

In ceremonies on the foredeck, he presented the Biddle with a Meritorious Unit Commendation. The award was for Biddle‘s previous service in the Gulf of Tonkin, specifically 3 March – 15 July 1968. Warner shook hands with crew members who had served on the earlier deployment and took a tour of the ship.

My journal noted that on 18 August, I “spent the night making a chart for the secretary’s visit.” The entry for 19 August reported that Captain Olsen had forgotten Warner’s name in his introduction. Also, Warner “never saw my chart.”

If anyone can help with the ID of the sailor at left in the photo above, please do.

Here’s a gallery of other cruise book photos from the visit.

Warner wasn’t a big name at the time. In his early 40s when he visited, he had had an interesting career to that point, however, but with much more to come. He enlisted in the Navy just before the end of WWII. Discharged in 1946, he left as a Petty Officer Third Class. He graduated from college and entered law school in his native Virginia. He interrupted his law studies to enlist in the Marines in 1950 and served as an officer in the Korean War.

Married to a wealthy banking heiress, Warner invested money and time in both of Richard Nixon’s presidential campaigns. When Nixon was inaugurated in 1969, he appointed Warner to the undersecretary post.

Warner became Secretary of the Navy in 1972 and served in that position until 1974. The Warners had divorced in 1973 and John Warner married Elizabeth Taylor in 1976. They divorced in 1982. He was elected U.S. Senator from Virginia in 1978 and served in the Senate for 30 years. He chose not to run for reelection in 2008. The USS John Warner (SSN-785), a Virginia-class submarine, was commissioned in 2015. 

 

After a “wonderful” week in Subic Bay, Biddle made the short trip to Manila, capital of the Philippines, on 10 August 1969. It was a brief visit — three days. We anchored in the outer harbor, which meant we used the liberty boat to get to and from shore.

Manila was in many ways a major step up from Olongapo, but it had its own particular charms. On our first night, I joined Ensign Graham and LTJG Meyers in a visit to “The Nile.” According to my journal, “The guy outside knocked twice on the wall, twice on the door, another guy peeked out, and opened up.” When you went in, there was a sign: “Please deposit your firearms at desk.” 

The Nile was a casino. We left. We finished the evening at the Manila Hilton.

On the middle day of our three, had the duty.

Here’s a gallery of cruise book photos of Manila.

Ensigns Roberts and Graham joined me on a walk around downtown Manila on 12 August. We decided to lunch at the Army-Navy Club. Very “colonial” atmosphere and look. ENS Roberts, I assume, took this picture there.

Later, I connected with the officer-in-charge of our spook squad and we went to the Sheraton to catch an Australian singer, Wilma Reading.

My journal for that night, obviously written another day, notes that witnesses reported that upon arrival at the ship I had something of a kerfuffle with the OOD about my willingness to give up a lifejacket I had used as a pillow on my ride back to the ship.

Time to get back to business. We left Manila on 13 August to return to the line.

 

On 3 August 1969, Biddle pulled into Subic Bay and tied up. Except for a few hours in Guam on 20 June and in Subic on 24 June, when the ship had first arrived there, I had been at sea for 53 days. So . . . of course . . . I had the duty when we arrived this time.

We learned it was also the 8th straight day of rain in Subic, and I learned in time that pretty much if it was Subic, it was raining.

My first real day in Subic was 4 August. My first target was the Exchange. “Looked over all the goodies,” my journal noted. With almost two months of pay and nowhere earlier to spend it, I was “flush.” 

Went out on the town [Olongapo] that night, along with ENS Graham, LTJG Armentrout, LCDR Wendt, LT Morris, and LT Daniels. According to my journal, our itinerary began with the “Top 3 Club.” My journal notes that my raincoat was stolen and that “Graham’s girl told him to get me out because they were going to roll me.” Ah, Olongapo. Finished the night at “Pauline’s.”

My journal for 5 August also notes that I remembered being at Pauline’s and then I woke up in my rack. What happened in between, as Jimmy Buffett puts it, “I haven’t a clue.”

I bought a reel-to-reel tape deck at the Exchange on 6 August. According to my journal, “I was going to get an Akai for $238, but I finally decided on a Sony for $195. The whole setup [can’t remember what else I got] cost me $389.”

Additional stops for me during our five-day stay in Subic were the “Chuck Wagon” and “D’Cave.” I also had duty again, so it was more a three-day stay for me and most of the rest of us. 

 

 

USS Chicago (CG-11) finally relieved Biddle on the morning of 1 August 1969. It was several days overdue, principally because of the presence of Typhoon Viola.

Before heading to Subic, we had to deliver something to Danang. The Meredith had delivered the North Vietnamese fishermen to us that morning and we were to drop them and their rafts off in Danang. The fishermen were berthed in the helo hangar and their rafts on deck.

Speaking of our shotgun, the Meredith had issued a press release on 30 July reporting their rescue of the fishermen. As my journal noted, “. . . didn’t even mention us.”

Indeed, the May 1970 issue of U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings, in its “Naval and Maritime Events, July 1968-December 1969” lists among items for 30 August 1969 the following: “The destroyer USS Meredith (DD-890) rescued five North Vietnamese fishermen from three rafts adrift in international waters 70 miles north of Dong Hoi off the coast of North Vietnam. It was the second group of North Vietnamese fishermen rescued by the Navy within the past three days.”

Here’s video from the film shot by GMG2 George Boyles or GMG2 Jerome Kuczmarski, showing the transfer of the fishermen to Biddle.

 On the transit south, we rendezvoused with the cruiser St. Paul (CA-73), flagship of Commander Cruiser-Destroyer Force Seventh Fleet, a rear admiral. The admiral came over to Biddle for lunch. Among the things he mentioned then was that trips to Australia were being reduced significantly. They would only go, my journal noted, “to particularly deserving ships.”

There’s been allusions to this in previous posts, but we had been told Biddle would return from this deployment via Australia, New Zealand, and Tahiti. Dream trip, or what! I didn’t know anyone personally who did it, but there were rumors, at least, that some guys had reenlisted to get that trip. Hearing that the trip might be in jeopardy was a bummer.

The admiral also indicated Biddle might spend its third line period off Korea.

While the admiral was on board, Biddle was about three miles offshore, just south of the DMZ. “Saw some air strikes,” according to my journal. Very soon after the admiral returned to the St. Paul, it began Naval Gunfire Support.

We arrived at Danang at 1830. My journal noted what happened then: “A PBR came out to pick up the NVN. All sorts of guys with M-16s. One of them gave the peace symbol. Some mortar rounds started coming in on the hillside north of us. As soon as the NVN were off, we hit flank speed getting out of there.” We were too big a target to hang around.

During the morning of 30 July 1969, Biddle‘s helicopter reported seeing a very small  raft with two fishermen, obviously from North Vietnam, aboard and far out to sea. My journal reported: “They had been blown out to sea (it had been pretty rough out) and they needed help.” At the time, Typhoon Viola had been creating problems, e.g., delaying our relief and shutting down CODs.

“We tossed them a line,” according to my journal. “They came to the side of the ship and we gave them food and water. A couple of spooks talked to them.” (“Spooks” were our onboard contingent of Vietnamese-speaking Navy types.) 

“They didn’t want to leave and be left alone at sea. We told them another ship would be by to pick them up and sent the Meredith [DD-890]. The Meredith (our shotgun) already had picked up another guy this morning.”

Some more photos from the cruise book.

 

CAPT Olsen’s second BIDDLEGRAM was dated 15 July 1969. (Sorry for delay in posting, but it took a long time to arrive in the mail. 🙂 No, again lost track of days.) I used some of it already in earlier posts, so I’ll include the rest of it here.

“On 1 July we arrived on station off Vietnam. Rear Admiral RUDDEN, Commander of the Cruiser-Destroyer Group SEVENTH Fleet, sent us the following message:

“WELCOME BACK TO THE CRUISER-DESTROYER GROUP SEVENTH FLEET. AS A PROVEN VETERAN, YOU KNOW THE CHALLENGING TASKS THAT LIE AHEAD. I AM CONFIDENT THAT YOUR OFFICERS AND MEN WILL ACCEPT THE CHALLENGES AND PERFORM LIKE THE TRUE PROFESSIONALS YOU ARE. I LOOK FORWARD TO VISITING WITH YOU AT THE EARLIEST OPPORTUNITY.

“He is right. BIDDLE is a proven veteran! Forty percent of the Ship’s Company are making their second cruise to these waters in less than a year. As a result of their experience and the competence and enthusiasm of our new hands, the training and teamwork we have developed during the past months, minutes after arrival on station, BIDDLE was operating as if she had never been away!

“What are we doing? Well, we serve as a navigational reference point for our aviators who continue to fly reconnaissance missions in the North and we carry two helicopters whose primary purpose is the rescue of any pilot who may have to ditch his aircraft. In our experience, none has. We also are, in a real sense, a sentry or picket out ahead of the main force, in position to keep an eye on the foe and to sound a warning should any threat develop. In our experience, none has. 

“That brings me up-to-date. All hands are busy and working long hours. Our weather has continued to be exceptionally fine. We have had one cookout topside and will have more. Our beard and mustache contest will be judged at the end of the month and prizes awarded for the best!

“Our mail service has not been as steady as we had hoped, but overall we cannot complain. And we hope you’re getting our letters in a timely fashion. Nonetheless, as Dean Martin says, ‘Keep those letters and cards coming,” — and your BIDDLEman will do the same. May I add that one photograph is worth several letters. So, please send a recent snapshot to your BIDDLEman.”

 

On 24 July 1969, the trio of Ensigns aboard the Biddle — Curran, McDonald, and Roberts — became a quartet.

John Graham had graduated from Officer Candidate School the month before and attended a short Naval Justice School course in Newport, R.I. (He had been a student at Yale Law School when the draft suggested a stint in the Navy might be a good choice.) His orders, however, were not to a legal billet ashore, but to USS Biddle as Assistant CIC Officer (he was Legal Officer as collateral duty). How he got onboard that summer 50 years ago is a distinctive and interesting tale, which he relates below:

“Sitting at home in Richmond, Va., after my graduation from Naval Justice School, it finally hit me: ‘I’m going to Vietnam.’

“I joined the Navy to keep from going, but the ‘needs of the service’ prevailed. At least I was going to float rather than walk.

“In my brand new Ensign’s uniform, I presented myself at the airport and, upon boarding the American Airlines flight to San Francisco, was told that I was being upgraded to First Class. All of us in uniform and destined for Travis Air Force base were moved to First Class since the crew all knew where we were ultimately headed.

“From Travis, aboard a military airplane, we refueled in Honolulu and finally landed in Taipei, where they loaded us on yet another flight to Clark Air Force Base in the Philippines. Mount Pinatubo finished that base off in 1991.

“Transport in the Philippines then switched to  a bus since Subic Bay was some two or three hours away by road.

“As the only officer (of all of two months), I was placed in charge of the 16 or so sailors (and several chiefs) on the bus and given strict instructions:
1.  Don’t stop for any reason
2.  Don’t let anyone on or off the bus
3.  If you are stopped by bandits [What???] give them the blankets, but make sure that no one gets on or off the bus; and
4.  Report to the command duty officer at Subic when you get there.

“Clear?  Any questions?  Off you go.

“About 15 minutes out from Clark, the senior chief came up to me and said ‘Sir, we have to stop. There is an emergency.’

“‘We’ve been ordered not to stop, Chief, what’s the emergency, Chief?’ I said.

“‘We don’t have any beer.’

“This was the first time (probably not the last) that I disobeyed a direct order, but the superior officer at Clark only mentioned one kind of emergency and this wasn’t that.

“Complete with all of our blankets and an ample supply of suds, we proceeded over hill and dale to Subic.

“Subic, and the contiguous companion base for the airdales, Cubi Point, was to be home for the next two weeks. The CODs (Carrier Onboard Delivery planes — C-2s as I recall) were down and there was no transportation to or from Yankee Station where the carriers were. (Editor note: At the same time on Biddle, we were aware that Typhoon Viola had grounded CODs.) Those of us awaiting transport reported each morning at 0800 and were dismissed about 0810. Olongopo is another story, not to be told in polite company.  Food and drink were better at Cubi Point, so we mostly just hung around there until the CODs were back up.

“When the time came, loaded into one of (I think) six passenger seats in the C-2A, I think we took off. I say I think because the COD seats faced aft and there were no windows.

“Yankee Station was between an hour- and two-hour flight and after about that time the plane began circling and circling and what seemed to be descending — down, down, down. And then all hell breaks loose — the throttle is full, the wheels hit hard, we catch the hook, and stop immediately.  An arrested landing on the USS Oriskany (CV-34).

“The Oriskany is like a floating hotel with scores of folks coming and going each day, and the transit officers’ quarters full of Marines, airdales, jet jockeys, helo pilots, fixed-wing prop-plane pilots, and just us ordinary blue-water sailors.  

“The Biddle was 200 miles northwest of Yankee Station and it took two days for the transport crew to arrange my passage. I walked around the Oriskany and observed day and night air ops, the latter the nearest thing to Dante’s Inferno that I can imagine. Incredible noise, lights, dirt, dust, and people running and shouting in every direction. I thought that it would be nice to finally arrive at quiet sea duty.

“My number finally came up and I was escorted to the flight deck. The chief of the chopper that was to be my transport greeted me and gave me my [30-second] safety lecture. I strapped in and off we went. Taking off in a helo is certainly less exciting than an arrested landing at sea.  

“So 200 miles later, the chief comes up to me and says ‘Sir, there’s a complication. ‘What is it, Chief?’ I said, wondering if there was any place that we could stop for beer. ‘There are two birds on deck,’ he said. ‘We can’t land.’

“‘Well,’ I said, ‘Do I have to go back?’ ‘No sir,’ he said, ‘we can still deliver you. Now stand up and put this horse collar on.’ Attached to a cable and winch, I was ready to go.

“With all my worldly possessions in one hand and my officer sword in my other, I was escorted to the hatch by the chief and looked down on “MY” ship tossing and turning some 100 feet below.

“As I was pushed out of the hatch (one doesn’t do something like this voluntarily), the chief gave me his final instruction: ‘Just remember, sir, don’t raise your arms.’

“Ensign Graham reporting for duty, sir.”

On 20 July 1969 (a Sunday then), Biddle‘s crew enjoyed a cookout on the fantail. (You’ll notice that there is much discussion today about the moon landing. In our case — and for all others on our side of the International Dateline — the date of the moon landing was 21 July 1969. There will be a post on that tomorrow.)

This wasn’t the first cookout, as my journal for 20 July reads, “Had another cookout today.” It is the one from which we have pictures . . . and film/video!

Perhaps it was the first appearance of our band — the . . . anybody remember if they had a name? It wouldn’t have been “The Hard Chargers,” would it? Anyway, they performed on the helo deck, which is why you see people in line in the photo at top looking up.

My journal noted that SN McDade was the singer and FTG3 Evans played bass. Welcome any additional identifications. (I know about the bass, because Evans was playing my bass guitar. I could not play anything on that guitar, and never could. My talents, if evident in anything, were not in music. I think I got the guitar to appear to be cool in the eyes of young women. Yeah, right.)

Below is a photo of me “enjoying” (maybe “examining”) some kind of sandwich, next to whom I believe is QM3 Harrell. I think this might have been an earlier cookout, because I don’t think I would have been wearing that cover if the ship’s ball caps had been available. (This photo shows that, of course, all I needed then to look cool was a bass guitar.)

Here’s video of the 20 July 1969 cookout from the film shot by GMG2 George Boyles or GMG2 Jerome Kuczmarski.

 

The Biddle spent most of its 1969 WESTPAC deployment during peak typhoon season, and the first instance of what that meant took place 10-12 July 1969.

Tropical Storm Tess was approaching the Gulf of Tonkin on 10 July and Biddle was heading south . . . quickly. We had been told to expect winds of 60 knots. Then we had an update: Tess was now a Typhoon and winds of 70 knots were projected.

My journal entry for 10 July included: “1800 — it’s now raining and windy. Whitecaps appearing.”

Below is a quartet of photos demonstrating Biddle‘s roll, perhaps during this transit south. Rolling, of course, was a common occurrence, though not commonly to the extent shown in the album. Photos were taken at midship and athwartship.

On 11 July, we had evaded the typhoon and were heading, more slowly this time, back into the Gulf. By 12 July, things were back to normal.

On 9 July, I reported in my journal that I “did beautiful on mail today. Got 7 letters, a postcard, the [Boston] Globe.” I also noted that we had conducted UNREP at 2330 that night and that “Captain suggested today I get a haircut.” Oh yeah . . . military.