Yard Workers at Bladensburg
Commander Tyrone G. Martin, U.S. Navy (Retired)
Joshua Barney and his flotillamen were not the only naval personnel at Bladensburg (“Commodore Barney at the Bladensburg Races,” October, pp. 46–52). Far removed from them, on the left flank of the American lines, were the men of Captain William Doughty’s Rifle Company, 2nd Regiment, 1st Columbian Brigade (Washington Militia). They were drawn from among the workers at the Washington Navy Yard. Doughty himself was the service’s senior naval constructor, the designer of most of the warships built during the War of 1812, including a number of the Barney gunboats.
Doughty and his men were in that position because rifle companies were considered elite units and were placed to guard a flank. (They were distinctively uniformed in fringed hunting shirts and hats with the brims pinned up on one side.) Two things conspired to leave the company unnoticed on that fateful day. First, Secretary of War John Armstrong had failed to provide them with rifles, so they had only shorter-range muskets. Second, the main thrust of the British attack was toward the American right flank, away from Doughty.
The captain watched impotently as the attack proceeded and was concerned that he might be cut off and taken. Upon trying to coordinate with the militia cavalry unit said to be stationed in a depression to his left, he found it had already skedaddled. There was nothing left for him to do but withdraw along the road to Georgetown
Navy’s Appreciation of Naval Air
Vice Admiral Bob Dunn, U.S. Navy (Retired)
While I enjoyed and appreciated the October issue, I am disappointed that in the second paragraph of “On Our Scope” (p. 4) you repeat an often-disproved notion—that is, that the importance of aircraft at sea was not apparent during the interwar years. To the contrary, all one has to do is to read the first article by Barrett Tillman (“Forging the Weapon,” pp. 14–19) and the one by Norman Friedman (“Aided by Perception and Luck,” pp. 20–21) in the very same issue. Further, Douglas Smith’s article on Admiral Joseph Mason Reeves in the Naval Institute Press’ forthcoming One Hundred Years of U.S. Navy Air Power completely destroys any notion that there was major difficulty accepting naval air power as an integral part of the Navy. Why else was so much time spent on carrier and patrol-aircraft tactics at the Naval War College and in Fleet problems? Some individuals may not have accepted the idea, but key leaders most certainly did.
Your statement is especially disappointing in that, despite my best efforts, the Naval Institute staff has espoused this thinking at least from the time I was chairman of the Editorial Board more than 20 years ago. I suspect, as you wrote, that the idea comes from Samuel Eliot Morison, but despite the fact that his work is monumental, he didn’t always get it right.
Judging the Carrier Admirals
David F. Anderson
I disagree with several statements in Alan Rems’ article “Missouri Endgame” (August, pp. 32–40). On page 38, Mr. Rems writes that Rear Admiral John S. McCain, “considered as more politically reliable,” “replaced [Rear Admiral John] Towers as chief of the Bureau of Aeronautics.” Admiral Towers became commander Air Force Pacific Fleet because of his prominence and prestige, as well as his policy differences with Secretary of the Navy Frank Knox and Admiral Ernest King (Clark G. Reynolds, Admiral John H. Towers, pp. 397–401). John Towers had a broad knowledge of all naval aviation, and Admiral Chester Nimitz needed a senior aviator on his staff. Additionally, Towers had disagreed with Knox and King over aspects of strategy. If Mr. Rems meant that McCain was more malleable than Towers, this is possibly correct.
There are three errors on page 37. The photo of Admirals McCain and Frederick C. Sherman is incorrectly captioned. It states that they “share a laugh in April 1945.” This photograph is also in the National Archives, and the date on the photo card states it was “rec[eived] 29 March 1945.” McCain was relieved as commander of Task Force 38 on 26 January 1945. I believe the photo was taken in late 1944, after the Leyte invasion. I think Admiral McCain was in the United States in April 1945.
On the same page, the article states that Vice Admirals McCain and Sherman represented “the fast carriers at the surrender ceremony.” McCain no longer represented the fast carrier task force, because he had been relieved by Towers the day before.
In the next paragraph, Mr. Rems writes that “‘Slew’ McCain was not in a celebratory mood” the day of the surrender “and would not have attended had Halsey not insisted.” The latter part of the sentence is certainly true, but the first is false. Admiral McCain was very glad he attended the surrender. In Faith of My Fathers, Senator John McCain wrote of his grandfather, “once on board the Missouri, he was entirely at ease. Rushing about the deck of the battleship, hailing his friends and reveling in the moment, he was the most animated figure at the ceremony.”
Another difference concerns the quote from Clark Reynolds’ The Fast Carriers on page 38. It states that Admirals Halsey and McCain were “inferior third act heroes in the Central Pacific offensive.” Perhaps Mr. Rems and I will have to “agree to disagree” here. Reynolds’ glib assertion was the first blow, but Admiral John Thach expressed a different opinion in his oral history. There is enough substance there to show that Admirals McCain and Halsey were quite capable of carrying any burden asked of them in order to get the job done. I welcome any discussion on the relative merits of Halsey and McCain versus Raymond A. Spruance and Marc A. Mitscher as fleet commanders and fast carrier force commanders.
Lastly, at least three times Mr. Rems uses the term “admiral of the fleet” when referring to U.S. five-star admirals. This is the Royal Navy rank. The correct rank in the U.S. Navy was fleet admiral.
Mr. Rems responds: Admiral McCain was actually at Pearl Harbor from April 4, but Sherman’s operations off Okinawa would have made an April meeting impossible. The photo was apparently taken earlier, as Mr. Anderson believes. McCain was called more “politically reliable” than Towers because to a naval administration unready to accept the full consequences of the air revolution, Towers’ insistence on a greater voice for airmen was politically incorrect.
The article focuses essentially on the wartime careers of certain figures at the surrender ceremony, not their status or doings that particular day. Thus, in referring to McCain and Sherman as “representing” the fast carriers, their principal wartime role is specified. Also, although McCain’s mood brightened during the surrender events, we know from Thach’s oral history that his negative feelings soon returned.
In comparing McCain and Mitscher, Mr. Anderson rejects the conclusions of the leading authority on the fast carriers as “glib” and ignores the opinions of the carrier admirals who served under them. While there is no reason to question Reynolds’ scholarship and the carrier admirals’ perceptions, there is good reason to question the objectivity of McCain’s operations officer, then-Captain John Thach. According to the editor of the oral history collection: “[Thach’s] loyalty, respect, and deep admiration for the man were genuine and lasting. . . . Together they planned and directed the final offensive blows. . . . [After McCain’s death] Thach felt as if he had lost his father for the second time.” Thus, Thach speaks about McCain’s dark mood before and after the surrender without revealing the obvious cause: McCain’s forced departure after two typhoon disasters. As for the operations orders developed by McCain and Thach, the carrier commanders did not share Thach’s enthusiasm. As one admiral summarized (according to Reynolds): “Order, counter-order, disorder.” Those on record—Admirals Arthur Radford, Joseph Clark, Frederick Sherman, and Gerald Bogan—emphatically expressed their unfavorable opinions of McCain and high regard for Mitscher.
Two distinguished contemporaries also weighed in. In The Two-Ocean War (p. 583), Samuel E. Morison writes, “In a special category of excellence are the flag officers of fleet carriers, with Mitscher facile princeps [easily first].” Admiral Nimitz felt similarly, as quoted in Theodore Taylor’s The Magnificent Mitscher (p.304): “[Mitscher] is the most experienced and most able officer in the handling of fast carrier task forces. . . . It is doubtful if any officer has made more important contributions than he toward extinction of the enemy fleet.”
Misadventures of Early Whirleybirds
Donald A. Wambold Jr.
I enjoyed Norman Polmar’s article on the Piasecki HRP-1 Rescuer (“Historic Aircraft,” August, pp. 16–17). A few years ago I conducted research on Piasecki’s PV-2 at the Smithsonian and the American Helicopter Museum and Education Center in West Chester, Pennsylvania. Some of the “old hands” from the company volunteer at our local museum and have interesting stories to tell.
The PV-2, the second successful helicopter, was towed (by lashing its tail wheel to the bumper of a 1942 Pontiac) down Rt. 40 to Washington National Airport for a demonstration on 20 October 1943. It was that successful demonstration that produced the Navy contract.
The prototype XHRP-X was a bare-framed aircraft with seats only for the two pilots, sitting one behind the other, and it took both to wrestle the controls. A flight mechanic had to stand in the frame.
On one flight to the Philadelphia Navy Yard in preparation for a demonstration the next day, a Navy lieutenant persuaded the pilots to give him a ride back to Sharon Hill, about seven miles distant. The pilots were reluctant; but the lieutenant was persistent. He gleefully mounted the aircraft, standing in the frame during the flight. During the brief flight home, the pilots realized something was radically wrong, and the aircraft just barely maintained attitude. The lieutenant was never the wiser and raved about the trip. As soon as he was out of sight, the pilots stripped down the transmission and found the gears were worn to nubs; they had used brass automotive parts, which did not hold up. They spent all night machining new gears and successfully demonstrated the aircraft the next day.