lost-at-sea-memorials.com

This graceful memorial is dedicated to the WWII submarine U.S.S. Robalo (SS-273). Robalo was a Gato-class submarine built in Manitowoc, Wisconsin and launched on May 9, 1943. The memorial is located in Lindenwood Park on Roger Maris Drive in Fargo, North Dakota.

After the end of World War II, the U.S. Submarine Veterans of WWII assigned each of the 52 submarines lost during the war to a state. It was hoped that appropriate memorials would be constructed by each state to their assigned submarine. While most states have not constructed memorials, some have. This is one of my favorites. On the back of the memorial are the names of all the crew members lost at sea on the Robalo. The front of the memorial contains a brief history of the ship, which I quote below:

“USS Robalo SS – 273. In early January 1944, the new fleet submarine Robalo set out to join forces with the ships raging war in the Pacific. Hunting for Japanese shipping west of the Philippines, she damaged a large freighter. Her second patrol was in the South China Sea near Indo-China, where she sank a 7,500 ton tanker, the cargo of which was badly needed to fuel and drive the far flung Japanese war machine. With two battle stars to her credit, Robalo set out on her third war patrol. As she was transiting the hazardous Balabac Strait off Palawan Island on 26 July 1944, Robalo strayed into an enemy minefield. A violent explosion suddenly jolted the ship and she sank almost immediately. Four of her crewmen managed to swim to Palawan Island where they were captured by Japanese military police and imprisoned. A note dropped by one of the men in his cell window was picked up by a US soldier who was on a work detail in the same prison camp. The note recounted the events leading up to Robalo’s tragic loss. On 15 August, the four surviving Robalo crewmen were taken aboard a Japanese destroyer. The destination and ultimate fate of the destroyer are still unknown. The four survivors on board never returned. The circumstances surrounding their deaths remain a mystery, but they joined their 77 shipmates in bravely giving their lives for their country.”

Joining the monument is a marker with the names of the North Dakota submariners and polished stone benches with the names of Commander Harold Wright, Captain Joseph Enright, and Lieutenant Commander Verne Skjonsby, all North Dakota residents who served on submarines during WWII.

This post gives me the opportunity to encourage all readers to visit one of my favorite web sites, On Eternal Patrol: http://www.oneternalpatrol.com/

Contained within this amazing web site is the history of every United States Navy submarine lost during the Second World War, listings of all the crew members lost at sea, photographs of hundreds of those lost, and links to a number of fascinating web sites detailing the history of the silent service. This is a web site not to be missed.

Over 32,000 U.S. Navy sailors were lost at sea from late 1941 through 1945. Over 10% of those were lost on submarines. The U.S.S. Robalo was only one of fifty-two American submarines never to return to port, one of thousands of ships from hundreds of nations on eternal patrol…

My favorite place in the world is any portion of the shoreline of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia bordering the Bay of Fundy. The rolling hills, trees right down to the waterline, and amazing tides make it an area unlike anywhere else on the planet. It can also be an eerie and strange place at times. Spencer’s Island, Nova Scotia was the birthplace of one of history’s most mysterious maritime events.

The Mary Celeste was launched as the Amazon from the shipyard in Spencer’s Island in 1861. Following an accidental grounding in Cape Breton in 1868, the ship was repaired and renamed Mary Celeste. On November 7, 1872 she sailed from New York to Italy under the command of Captain Benjamin Biggs. Onboard were Biggs’ wife, small daughter and seven crewmen. The cargo is somewhat in dispute – either wines and liquors, or industrial strength alcohol to be used in paint.

On December 4, 1872 Mary Celeste was found 600 miles off Gibraltar, under full sail, with everything in order except for the fact the ship was abandoned. No sign has ever been found of the ten souls who were once aboard Mary Celeste. She is history’s most famous Ghost Ship.

Many theories have been advanced as to what happened to the crew of the Mary Celeste – from piracy, to a below decks fire caused by alcohol fumes, to a rogue wave or an undersea earthquake. All that is really known, however, is that a ship in pristine shape was found sailing on the ocean without a crew – and that the only thing missing was a chronometer. The cargo was untouched, the ship’s log was found with no mention of any trouble in the last entry on November 24 – everything seemed in perfect order.

The Mary Celeste was salvaged by the captain of the ship that originally found her abandoned. She sailed for many years, eventually scuttled about 1884 on the Rochelois Reef in Haiti. The remains of the Mary Celeste were eventually discovered by the writer and salvage expert Clive Clusser.

On December 26, 2004 a 9.0 earthquake near the west coast of Sumatra generated a tsunami that slammed into the coastline of 11 Indian Ocean countries, from east Africa to Thailand. By the end of the day 150,000 people had died. The final death toll was 283,000. Many tens of thousands of victims were swept out to sea.

We have all seen the photographs and videos of the 2004 tsunami and its horrific aftermath, as well as the equally similar and tragic event in Japan earlier this year. Words simply are not enough to provide a permanent tribute to such loss. It is humanity’s great gift to have artists who provide lasting memorials for the living and for future generations – static images that somehow come to life in the eyes and minds of the viewer. These memorials are as much a record of the event as the written word, or the photograph, or the cell phone video.

This post contains just a few of these monuments – from India, Sri Lanka, Malaysia, the Maldives, Indonesia, and Thailand. Each memorial possesses a different emotional power.

A sobering element of any American military cemetery on foreign soil is The Tablets of the Missing – a listing of the dead with no known graves. These listings always include thousands lost at sea.

The American Military Cemetery and Memorial in Manila is the largest American military cemetery on foreign soil. Over 17,000 graves are arranged in a circular layout encompassing 125 acres. Constructed in the middle are two hemicycles, listing a staggering 36,282 names of Americans who lost their lives in the South Pacific during WWII and have no known resting place. I first visited this site in the early 1970s. The scope of the collective sacrifice forever resting within this beautiful and peaceful place took my breath away – an emotion that remains with me today.

On that first visit I randomly jotted down the names of a few men on the Tablets of the Missing, hoping to eventually ‘humanize’ the experience somehow – to learn more about these men and the actions where they lost their lives. Years later I was able to determine that one of the names I jotted down was lost on the U.S.S Mount Hood (AE-11).

The Mount Hood was an ammunition ship that exploded due to unknown causes on November 10, 1944 while anchored in Seeadler Harbour at Manus Island (Admiralty Islands). The explosion killed all 295 men aboard and severely damaged 22 other ships in the harbor. The repair ship U.S.S. Mindanao was alongside Mount Hood when the explosion occurred. 82 of the Mindanao crew also died that day. 371 sailors on other ships in the harbor were injured. An investigation board was never able to ascertain the exact cause of the accident, but it was not due to combat. War is a dangerous business – and all casualties are not due to combat. Whether by combat or accident, the loss is felt just as strongly by family, friends and shipmates.

While researching the history of the U.S.S. Mount Hood, I came across a beautiful YouTube tribute from a niece to an uncle she never knew. Seaman Second Class J.C. McGuire of Alabama died on November 10, 1944 while stationed aboard the Mount Hood. His remains were never recovered. He was eighteen when he died. Please take the time to view the short video. It puts a very human face to a name forever engraved on a marble wall so far from the home he left during WWII.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c6UtLYybM8I

Perhaps more than any other nation, Great Britain has relied on mastery of the oceans for her greatness. From the days of empire in the 18th and 19th centuries, to the days of fighting for survival during the brutal conflicts of the 20th century, the sailors of the British Isles left the ports of England determined to serve their country. Hundreds of thousands of these souls would never return to their homeland.

The Tower Hill Memorial is located across the street from two of London’s iconic sites – the Tower of London and the Tower Bridge. Separated into two parts, the memorial commemorates the men and women of the Merchant Navy and Fishing Fleets who gave their lives during WWI and WWII protecting their nation and who have no grave but the sea.

The WWI Memorial is a vaulted corridor listing the names of thousands of ships arranged alphabetically. The names of the lost are listed below the name of each vessel. The ship’s master is listed first, with the remainig dead of each ship listed alphabetically below the Master. No rate or ranking other than the Master is indicated. 11,919 names are listed in this corridor.

The WWII Memorial is in the form of a sunken garden, the walls containing the names of nearly 24,000 souls lost at sea. Teak benches allow visitors to sit and contemplate their surroundings. In the center of the garden is a ‘pool’ of bronze, engraved as a mariner’s compass set to magnetic north.

Perhaps the most powerful aspect of this memorial is when one considers the scope of the sacrifice it represents. During WWI and WWII the British lost over 8,000 merchant ships alone. This staggering figure does not include fishing or military vessels. 49,000 British merchant seamen lost their lives in the two world wars – over 50% of those lost at sea. Each name on these walls represent a story, a life too short, a loved one missed. When I visited the memorial I greatly appreciated the decision to list the names without rate or rank. These sailors who rest in sea-locked graves are all equal in the hearts of a grateful nation…

There are few more humbling experiences for an American than to visit one of the numerous American military cemeteries erected and lovingly maintained on foreign soil. I recently visited the American WWII Cemetery in Cambridge, England. Contained within its 30 acres are the graves of 3,809 Americans who lost their lives during WWII. Engraved on a 472-foot limestone wall on one side of the cemetery are the names of 5,126 others – missing in action, lost or buried at sea, or those “Unknowns” whose remains could not be positively identified prior to their interment in the cemetery.

Time seems to stand still within the cemetery. Familiar names can be found on the Tablets of the Missing – Glenn Miller, Joseph P. Kennedy, Jr. and others. Among the graves in the cemetery are the graves of “unknowns”. Their earthly remains were never identified, yet those remains are buried in the cemetery and their names are engraved somewhere on the Tablets of the Missing. It’s an eerie feeling standing over an unknown grave and then gazing at the thousands of names on the wall – wondering which name on the wall identifies the American who gave everything resting below your feet…

I saw the grave of an American who was serving with the American Red Cross. Hugh Foster ran what was said to be the finest Red Cross canteen in all of England. Stories about his canteen can be found in many WWII memoirs. Being a non-combatant did not spare Mr. Foster from the ravages and dangers of war, however. He died in a bombing raid. He is buried among the American military men who found his canteen a welcome refuge – a place of rest and relaxation. I am certain they are honored by his presence. He is among friends.

Etched in gold lettering on the memorial wall is the name “Lt. Col Leon R. Vance, Jr.” Vance is the only serviceman honored in the cemetery to be awarded the Medal of Honor. A copy of his Medal of Honor citation is on display in the visitor’s building at the cemetery. It speaks for itself.

“For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity above and beyond the call of duty on 5 June 1944, when he led a Heavy Bombardment Group, in an attack against defended enemy coastal positions in the vicinity of Wimereaux, France. Approaching the target, his aircraft was hit repeatedly by antiaircraft fire which seriously crippled the ship, killed the pilot, and wounded several members of the crew, including Lt. Col. Vance, whose right foot was practically severed. In spite of his injury, and with 3 engines lost to the flak, he led his formation over the target, bombing it successfully. After applying a tourniquet to his leg with the aid of the radar operator, Lt. Col. Vance, realizing that the ship was approaching a stall altitude with the 1 remaining engine failing, struggled to a semi-upright position beside the copilot and took over control of the ship. Cutting the power and feathering the last engine he put the aircraft in glide sufficiently steep to maintain his airspeed. Gradually losing altitude, he at last reached the English coast, whereupon he ordered all members of the crew to bail out as he knew they would all safely make land. But he received a message over the interphone system which led him to believe 1 of the crewmembers was unable to jump due to injuries; so he made the decision to ditch the ship in the channel, thereby giving this man a chance for life. To add further to the danger of ditching the ship in his crippled condition, there was a 500-pound bomb hung up in the bomb bay. Unable to climb into the seat vacated by the copilot, since his foot, hanging on to his leg by a few tendons, had become lodged behind the copilot’s seat, he nevertheless made a successful ditching while lying on the floor using only aileron and elevators for control and the side window of the cockpit for visual reference. On coming to rest in the water the aircraft commenced to sink rapidly with Lt. Col. Vance pinned in the cockpit by the upper turret which had crashed in during the landing. As it was settling beneath the waves an explosion occurred which threw Lt. Col. Vance clear of the wreckage. After clinging to a piece of floating wreckage until he could muster enough strength to inflate his life vest he began searching for the crewmember whom he believed to be aboard. Failing to find anyone he began swimming and was found approximately 50 minutes later by an Air-Sea Rescue craft. By his extraordinary flying skill and gallant leadership, despite his grave injury, Lt. Col. Vance led his formation to a successful bombing of the assigned target and returned the crew to a point where they could bail out with safety. His gallant and valorous decision to ditch the aircraft in order to give the crewmember he believed to be aboard a chance for life exemplifies the highest traditions of the U.S. Armed Forces.”

Leon Vance survived ditching his aircraft in the English Channel, although he would lose his right foot and lower leg. After receiving medical treatment for almost two months in England he was sent back to the United States for further treatment and the possible fitting of a prosthetic foot. In one of the cruel ironies of war, the C-54 Skymaster transport on which he was flying disappeared and was presumed to have crashed in the Atlantic between Iceland and Newfoundland on July 26, 1944. No trace of the aircraft has ever been found. Leon Vance and all aboard were lost at sea…

In the Victoria Embankment Gardens along the river Thames in London is a memorial to the Fleet Air Arm of the Royal Navy. The memorial is a striking bronze figure of Daedalus, the ingenious craftsman of Greek legend who created wings to escape King Minos of Crete, only to lose his son Icarus when he flew too close to the sun and his wings melted. Icarus plunged into the sea…

The memorial was designed by Royal Academy artist and sculptor James Butler as a tribute to the more than 6,000 individuals who have given their lives in Royal Navy Air Service since World War I – 1,925 of whom have no graves except the oceans of the world.

Butler’s own words best describe the power of the statue: “I wanted Daedalus to appear mighty, strong and capable, a man and yet half machine, with wings which are an integral part of him and yet still clearly man-made and fastened crudely to his arms. He must have an air of tragedy in his countenance, after all he is mourning the death of his colleagues. With his arms outspread in this position and his head slightly bowed, there are suggestions of crucifixion which signal the sacrifice of the brave men and women in their Naval Service over the years.”

When I saw the statue a few weeks ago on a visit to London with my wife, I noticed some very small, individual tributes left at the base. One was a small wooden cross in memory of “Lt. Commander ‘Barry’ Knowles, RN”. I did some research on Commander Knowles on my return to the United States. David Barry Knowles and his crew mate Ian E. Shaw were lost in the crash of a Sea Vixen aircraft in the Irish Sea on December 4, 1967. The Sea Vixen was a beautiful but exceptionally unforgiving aircraft operated by the Royal Navy off their aircraft carriers for over a decade. Almost 60 Royal Navy aviators lost their lives flying the Sea Vixen.

The Fleet Air Arm Memorial is a truly moving and powerful symbol of the sacrifices of David Barry Knowles, Ian Shaw, and the thousands of others who gave so very much in the service of their country…

The names of honored Australian warships can sound like the reading of names of Australia’s most prominent cities from a map – Sydney, Canberra, Perth. These beautiful cities personify the swagger and pride of all Australians. But add the simple preface phrase His Majesty’s Australian Ship to those famous city names and a somewhat different image results – an image of bravery, dedication, sacrifice, suffering, and loss. During World War II the sacrifices of the Royal Australian Navy and her brave sailors were second to none.

A previous post on this blog covered the HMAS Sydney and the stunning memorial to her memory. The HMAS Canberra was lost off of Guadalcanal in 1942 in the Battle of Savo Island. The United States Navy named a ship in her memory – the only U.S. Naval ship ever named after the ship of another country. Such was the esteem the Americans held for her sacrifice.

HMAS Perth also had a distinguished career and a tragic end. Built in 1936 at the Portsmouth Naval Dockyard in England, the Leander class light cruiser was acquired by the Royal Australian Navy in 1939. Early in WWII she saw action in the Mediterranean Theater of War – supporting actions in Greece, Crete and Syria. In early 1942 she was transferred to waters closer to home.

On February 14, 1942 HMAS Perth and the USS Houston were the only large Allied ships to survive the Battle of the Java Sea. After the battle the two ships attempted to resupply, but fuel and ammunition shortages left both cruisers critically short of shells and fuel when both were ordered to sail for Yjilatjap via the Sunda Straight two weeks later. Shortly after midnight on March 1, 1942 both ships were attacked by a superior Japanese naval force in the Sunda Straight. HMAS Perth was hit by four enemy torpedoes and was lost. USS Houston was sunk a short time later.

353 of HMAS Perth’s crew of 682 died on the night of the Battle of Sunda Straight – almost all lost at sea. Of the 329 survivors, most were taken prisoner – sent to live and die in yet another hell, as forced labor in the building of the Burma Railroad made infamous in the book and movie “The Bridge on the River Kwai”. Only 218 of HMAS Perth’s original crew were repatriated after the war.

Those interested in the Battle of Sunda Straight and the Allied survivors later ordeals in Burma are encouraged to read Australian writer Mike Carlton’s fine book Cruiser about the HMAS Perth and James D. Hornfischer’s equally fine work Ship of Ghosts, detailing the story of the USS Houston.

The Sunda Straight is the tropical body of water separating the islands of Sumatra and Java. It is the final resting place of hundreds of brave sailors from His Majesty’s Australian Ship Perth…

The recent news that some of the wreckage of Air France 447 (lost on a flight from Rio to Paris) was located in the Atlantic Ocean has turned my thoughts to the 1996 crash of TWA 800 – a Boeing 747 lost with 230 souls on board on July 17, 1996. The aircraft was on a scheduled flight from New York Kennedy airport to Paris when it exploded in mid-air a few minutes after departure.

This is perhaps the most thoroughly investigated commercial air crash in history. 95% of the aircraft was eventually recovered from the Atlantic waters, 14 miles east of Long Island. While numerous theories of what caused the accident abound on the Internet – terrorism, a U.S. Navy surface-to air-missile strike, explosives strapped to a dog, and others – the official National Transportation Safety Board report found that an explosion in the center wing fuel tank caused the destruction of the aircraft. The ignition source for the explosion was never determined, although spurious static electricity or faulty wiring were named as likely culprits. The NTSB and the FAA have repeatedly attempted to implement safety measures to reduce the potential for this type of accident – generally nitrogen or other inert gases pumped into aircraft fuel tanks as they empty. To my knowledge no aircraft have been retro-fitted with these devices, nor are these devices required on new aircraft. The reason cited for inaction is generally excessive cost.

The TWA 800 International Memorial is located at Smith Point Country Park, which fronts the Atlantic Ocean on the east end of Fire Island – central Long Island, New York. The memorial location faces the actual accident location in the Atlantic Ocean.

The memorial itself extends over two full acres. Included are paths which lead through over 10,000 donated plants and vegetation surrounding a main central plaza. A large curved granite wall is the focal point of the plaza. On one side of the granite wall are engraved the names of the 230 victims of the loss of TWA 800. The other side of the granite wall is an illustration of 230 seagulls released into the sky, particularly striking when viewed at night. Flags of 14 nations, representing the countries of passengers and crew, are set near the central plaza. In 1986 an abstract lighthouse was added. Below the lighthouse is a tomb holding the personal effects of many of those lost on that July night.

Partial remains of almost all of the 230 victims were recovered and eventually identified through DNA testing. These remains were returned to the victims’ families. This process took almost one year. No remains of two victims (one American and one French) were ever discovered. They lie at the bottom of the Atlantic off the east coast of Long Island – forever lost at sea…

Today’s post was submitted by an old friend, Robert Schnell of Redding, California. Bob was a Radar Intercept Officer in the early 1970s, flying F-4 Phantoms with U.S. Navy Fighter Squadron 84 assigned to the aircraft carrier Franklin D. Roosevelt (CVA-42). I’ll let Bob tell the rest of his story…

“The flight deck of a U.S. Navy aircraft carrier has been described as the most dangerous square footage you may trod. During flight operations ear-splitting jet engine noise, aircraft in motion, searing exhaust, jet engine intake forces so powerful it can suck a 200 pound man off the deck in a split second, spinning propellers and flight deck personnel moving among all this machinery on a confined area of about an acre in size demand a careful, deliberate choreography. It takes professional skill, knowledge and no small ability for all this activity to occur so as to get the primary mission accomplished: launching aircraft off the ship and into the air safely and efficiently. Recovery of those same aircraft during the landing sequence has its own set of rules. Even when all is done properly, as safely as possible and as efficiently as only time, training and practice may allow there still is the unknown, unforeseen circumstance that causes tragedy. Such was the case on board the USS Franklin Roosevelt aircraft carrier (FDR), CVA-42, in 1972 during a Sixth Fleet cruise in the Mediterranean Sea.

VFP-63 was a photo reconnaissance squadron flying RF-8’s which were unarmed Crusaders re-equipped with photo gear. The F-8 was equipped with an ejection seat that only promised a safe ejection if the plane was flying at least 200 feet above the surface and at a speed of at least 200 knots. It needed that much speed and altitude for the seat to function properly. The F-4’s ejection seat, by contrast, had a later model “0-0” seat; i.e., one could eject from the Phantom on the ground with no altitude or airspeed necessary. During an otherwise normal launch of an RF-8, one of those unforeseen acts happened. The plane was accelerating down the deck being pulled by the catapult. Then a portion of the underside where the catapult bridle attaches to the plane broke away. The plane was going about 100 knots and was about half the distance to the bow of the ship: moving too fast to brake and too slowly to get airborne.  Without a more up-to-date ejection seat there was no way for the pilot to survive an attempted ejection. So he rode the plane until it fell over the bow into the water and was run over by the carrier. There was no hope of recovery. Lt. M.C. Steams was lost at sea.

The other accident involved an A-7 Corsair II from Attack Squadron 87 (VA-87). It also happened during a catapult launch sequence. In the Mediterranean during the summer the air is hot and humid. When a jet goes to 100% power for the catapult launch it also starts to pressurize the cockpit. Through a here-to-fore unknown set of climate-control switch positions the compression of the air inside the cockpit caused the humid ambient air to lower to the dew point where it turned instantaneously into fog. This blinded the pilot and he flew off the deck right-wing down and into the water. If he had any time to blow the canopy will never be known. It all happened in less than 5 seconds. Again, there was no hope of recovery. Lt. C.L. Nelson was also lost at sea.

Those involved in Naval Aviation who lose their lives in the performance of their duties, whether in peace or war, will always be remembered. In these two cases their coffins are the planes they flew, their tombstones are the waves of the Sea above and their memorials are the people who will never forget their ultimate sacrifice.”