|
USS ENDICOTT DMS35
Russell
D. Stephens
KOREA 1950-1952
|
I,
Russell D. Stephens, RM3, came aboard the Endicott on 5 May 1949,
the morning after she came back from Tsingtao, China. There were
four radioman strikers who reported aboard at the same time. We had
all finished radio school about the same time and had been assigned
to destroyers. I was assigned to the USS Dennis J. Buckley, DDR808,
who had just come back from the Western Pacific Fleet. I only
stayed on her for about a month, when she received orders to the
east coast. She was to go to the yards for overhaul, and then to
escort the USS Constellation, a hospital ship, on a two year
goodwill tour of Europe. I was transferred to the USS Piedmont AD17
there in San Diego to await further transfer to the Endicott when
she returned to the USA. I started in the radio shack on the
Endicott, but after a couple of months I transferred to the bridge,
to become a signalman/quartermaster striker. I stayed on the bridge
for about a year and then returned to the radio shack because I
couldn't change my rate to quartermaster. We had been operating in
and out of San Diego and Monterrey, California, and gone to the
yards in Vallejo, Mare Island Navy Shipyard.
All of the talk at that time was about French-Indo
China. Life magazine had run articles about the troubles there, and
the story about "Earth-Quake McGoon", I believe that was what he was
nicknamed. Then during the last week of June 1950, we got orders to
the Western Pacific Fleet, and of course the orders were sealed.
The Endicott and USS Doyle DMS34, both from the same squadron, were
ordered out together. We were the first two ships from the west
coast to leave on this mission. We sailed on 30 June 1950 for Pearl
Harbor, where we stayed for several days, and the Endicott alone was
ordered on to WestPac. The Doyle had developed mechanical problems
and could not continue. We took an oil king and water king to
Midway Island, and they opened up a refueling station there. For
the most part the island was deserted with only a squad of U.S.
Marines stationed there. After we got through refueling and taking
on fresh water, we got underway, heading for Japan. When we crossed
the International dateline west of Midway, the captain, Commander
John C. Jolly announced that we were going to Korea.
I have always been fascinated by maps, and I had
never hear of this place, so I went Up to bridge and got the
quartermaster to show me on the carts where it was located. I was
shocked because I had always heard of that place being called the
Chosen Peninsula, taken from China by the Japanese at the same time
they took Manchuria. Also at the time that we crossed the
International Dateline, we went to war time procedures, manning a
ready mount and darkened ship. For a young man not quite 21, and
having been raised in a small town west of San Antonio, Texas, it
was really scary, with lots of rumors going around the ship. Being
a radioman, had some moments where we were in on the latest events,
and sometimes wished we didn't learn them so quick.
It took us about 12 or 13 days to go from Midway
Island to Yokosuka Fleet Activities Base, Japan. We stayed in
Yokosuka for about a week, and then got orders to proceed to
Wakkanai, Hokkaido, Japan, the northern most city in Japan. We got
as far north as the Tsugaru Straits, between Honshu Island and
Hokkaido Island. We were ordered back south to the port of Kobe,
Japan to pick up a couple of CVE or jeep carriers. We went with
them to the Tsushima Straits between Kyushu Island Japan and Korea.
We were assigned as plane crash detail and anti-submarine duty with
them. They had, for the most part Marine fighter wings flying the
old gull-winged Corsair.
We stayed with the carriers for about a month, and then went to
the Masan-ChinhaeArea, about 30 miles to the west of Pusan. At that
time the North Koreans had pushed everything down to about a 30 mile
perimeter around Pusan. We became gunfire support for the Army 25th
Division. It was hot and with no fans to speak of, and staying in a
ready mode, we were told one night that no one could sleep below
decks. In the radio shack we were standing 4 hours on and 4 hours
off. During this time the North Koreans started to set up a gun
emplacement about 3 or 4 miles away on top of one of the mountains.
Our Executive Officer, Lt. C. E. Briggs watched this operation for
several days, and one day I took the message board up to have him
sign for a message, and he showed me what they were doing. He
waited until they were just about ready to start firing from that
position, and then he changed the ready mount and ordered them to
start firing. It didn't take many rounds from that single 5" 38
caliber mount to blow the gun away, along with some of the
soldiers. This was done three different times before they decided
to stop. While we were in Chinhae Bay, we were swinging at anchor,
so we could have been an easy target.
Our first encounter with mines, our primary duty was mine
warfare, was getting called up to Pohang, Korea about 65 to 75 miles
north of Pusan on the east coast of Korea,to look for survivors from
the USS Ptarmigan, an AMS, who had been sunk by a mine. All that we
could find was some debris floating in the general area. The
Ptarmigan was a wooden hulled tuna boat from the San Diego Tuna
Fleet before WWII, so there wasn't much chance for survivors. After
finding nothing more than debris, we returned to Chinhae Man, to
continue interdiction and harassing fire both day and night. The
ground troops that we were supporting sometimes called in fire on
certain coordinates. We had a spotter plane up one evening, and he
was calling for some really weird coordinates, changing them
rapidly, so the captain got on the radio and asked the spotter what
we were shooting at, and the pilot said it was a man and an oxcart.
He said we have hit the ox and cart, and with two more rounds we
will have the man. We only got underway to replenish food supplies
and ammunition, which we did in Sasebo, and then it was right back
to our firing mission.
On 15 September 1950, the Endicott escorted a ROK LST to the
Chang Sa Dong area, sometimes referred to as Yong Dok. The LST
didn't hit the beach the way she was designed, but hit a sand bar,
and broached, turned sideways to the beach. She was helpless, as she
couldn't move, and was soon taken underfire from guns on the
shore. The Endicott's fire control battery, and lookouts couldn't
locate the guns,so the Endicott's captain called for an air strike.
The ROK marines on the LST began to jump into the water with full
field packs, guns, and ammunition. The Valley Forge CV45 sent two
AD Sky Raiders, single engine propeller aircraft in to support us
and try to locate where the enemy fire was coming from. They
located it right away. It was coming from two tanks about halfway
up the side of a mountain, on a road that was hidden to us by trees,
plus it was above our level. The strike aircraft soon dispatched,
or rather knocked out the tanks with bombs. This landing was a
diversionary landing on the east coast of Korea, while at the same
time troops weremaking the landing at Inchon and Seoul.
Our next mission was to follow the ROK Third Division up the east
coast, starting at about Pohang. We provided gunfire support when
called to fire on specific targets, and also harassing and
interdiction firing at night.
On the morning of 12 October 1950, the ROK Third Division hit the
airport south of Wonsan, North Korea. This put us north of the 38th
parallel, which was the dividing line between North and South Korea
after WWII. Wonsan was just a little north of the 39th parallel.
The Endicott and another destroyer, and the name doesn't come to me
right now, were supposed to be the gunfire support for a group of
smaller sweepers. About five or six Japanese sailors of fortune in
small wooden sweepers were to lead the group followed by several
AMS's, from US Navy, and then the USS Pirate and USS Pledge, both
185 AM class mine sweepers. Then after the Pirate and Pledge came
the Endicott and the other destroyer. Someone got their wires
crossed, and the Japanese sailors of fortune and the AMS's finally
arrived on the scene. In the mean time, the Pirate and the Pledge
were leading the pack, with the Endicott behind them. When the
Pirate and the Pledge passed between Ko To Island on the south of
the channel, and Rei To on the north of the channel, 14 horned or
contact mines popped to the surface, like soneone had released them
all at once. I was standing on the 01 deck of the Endicott on the
port side aft of the mast and superstructure, with a clear view.
Just as the two minesweepers cut the14 mines, the Pirate shuddered,
a puff of black smoke came from her starboard side and I could hear
a muffled explosion, and she began settling by the stern. The
Pledge was slightly astern of the Pirate at this time, and the shore
batteries from the inner harbor began firing at the Pirate¸ and crew
began to abandon ship. The Pledge pulled around the starboard side
of the Pirate and began firing what guns she had. The Endicott
fired all that she was capable of with only three single gun 5" 38
caliber mounts. The shore batteries were silenced, and both the
Pirate and Pledge were on the bottom in a very short time. The
combined crews of the two sunken ships totaled about 130 officers
and men. The Endicott picked up as many of the survivors as was
possible with their whale boats, and the rest were picked up by some
of the smaller sweepers, and brought to the Endicott. There were
quite a few broken arms, legs, and cut throats. The throat injuries
came because 7 th Fleet had just put out an order for all
hands to be on deck except those absolutely necessary for the
operation of the ship .
However,
they did
not give any instructions how the helmets were to be worn, and with
the chin strap loosely fastened, the concussion blew the helmets up
and cut the wearers throat. The survivors were supposed to be
transferred to a cruiser, but the weather began to turn sour, so the
Endicott ended up taking the survivors to Pusan to the hospital ship
Constellation I believe.
The Endicott returned to Wonsan, and sweeping
continued. United Nations ships weresoon unloading troops and
supplies there on regular schedules. The war moved north.
Operations required a Hungnam channel, so the Endicoctt commenced
sweeping there during the first week of December. The harbor and
facilities were ready when Chinese Communists began pouring over the
border of Manchuria and into North Korea. The Hungnam channels were
expanded. The Endicott had one sweeping job between Wonsan and
Hungnam and that was to sweep a 10 mile stretch north of Hungnam
from the 100 fathom curve in to the 50 fathom curve. I was called
to the bridge to man the captains battle circuit, on the sound
powered phones. I was standing in back of the lee helm position
against the bulkhead that separated the pilot house from the sonar
room. The sound of the pings from the sonar gear were loud and very
clear in my position. When they began to pick up echoes, the pings
changed to ping-wop as we got a good return from the under water
targets. We had no way of knowing if the targets were mines, under
water structures, whales, or possibly submarines. Even though we
were in swept water after the first pass, it was a very nerve
wracking time until we finished the operation.
The Endicott was back in Wonsan harbor over Thanksgiving, and the
hills to the west and north of the city were ablaze with fires set
by guerilla forces in the area. I heard one report that there were
estimated to be somewhere close to 10,000 guerillas in that area
alone. I do know that when we were following the South Korean ROK
Third Division up the east coast from about Pohang to Wonsan, they
moved quite rapidly, and didn't appear to have time to go to the
west side of the mountains.
On 13 December 1950, Lt. Cmdr. L. W. Barnard USN, relieved Cmdr.
John C. Jolly USN, as commanding officer of the Endicott. The next
time the Endicott was underway for a base to the south. She
completed this operation in two days, made two trips to Japan, then
returned to Hungnam, where she worked until the evacuation.
On Christmas day 1950, the transports departed enmasse from
Hungnam, carrying 60,000 troops out of the jaws of the enemy's
trap. They stood out through mine free waters which had been swept
by the Endicott. Fire Support ships remained to pound the advancing
enemy. Then, they too departed. An interesting side light to the
actual evacuation at Hungnam, was that we could see the Red Chinese
walking along the top of the ridge to the west and north of
Hungnam. They didn't appear to be trying to shoot, but just walking
a guard post. As the last of the departing fleet were leaving the
area, Underwater Demolition Teams 1 and 3, now called the Seals, had
set charges along the water front. When they set off the charges,
the whole dock area seemed to lift up in the air about 10 to 12
feet, and then just disintegrated into a cloud of dust.
In heavy seas and blinding snows of January 1951, the Siamese
frigate Prosae went aground on an enemy held beach. The Endicott
arrived first on the scene and maneuvered through churning combers
up to the breakers off the coast. The Endicott lowered a whale
boat. It proceeded to the scene and rescued the men from the water
and towed the pulling boat back to her mother ship. The Endicott
guns stood ready for enemy attack.The Endicott sent a cable over to
the Prosae in a desperate attempt to pull her off the bottom, but
try as we might, we just couldn't move her. A helicopter was sent
over from a cruiser who lay of shore, and picked up the Mine
Squadron Commander and took him over to the Prosae. As the
helicopter was hovering over the flying bridge, I saw Commodore
Gallagher stepping out of the choper, and almost at the same time,
the chopper crashed into the flying bridge. The 20 MM ammunition
ready boxes that were up there began to explode and crewmen started
to jump over the side into the frigid waters. We sent our whale
boat back out with the squadron doctor and our Chief Hospital
Corpsman and they picked up as many as they could out of the water
and deposited them on the beach, where the medics took care of them
as best as they could. The snow on the beach was about 8 feet deep,
and the enemy had trenches dug out so they could move around in and
we couldn't see them. Seas finally broached the Prosae, and she
started to break apart. The crew was evacuated and she was
destroyed.
Mid-February 1951, found the Endicott back in Wonsan
harbor, to be support for some very small and shallow draft boats
that were equipped to be sweepers for the shallow waters of the
outer bay at Wonsan. Three of us from the Endicott were ordered to
be part of the crew for a rescue boat for these sweeping
operations. Our commanding officer was Lt. S.C. Myers, MD. We were
to use a 40 foot motor launch under the command of W.R. Siddall,
Boatswain Mate 1st class. Medical officer was D. Mahone,
HN., and myself, Russell D. Stephens, RMSN, radioman. Plus there
were 5 seaman crew members from the USS Comstock LSD19, for a total
of eight men in the 40 foot motor launch. The first day we tried to
go out, a very thick fog had moved in and we got lost just as soon
as we left sight of the ship. I don't think we were more than a
couple of hundred yards, and we couldn't see anything. I called the
ship on the radio, and told them what the situation was, and they
gave us a heading to start out and when they saw something on radar,
had us turn for identification. The suggested heading got us back
to the ship, so we stayed aboard for the rest of that day.
The next time we went out only a day or so later, it was bitterly
cold, around –20 degrees, and a north wind of about 15 to 25 knots.
An open 40 foot motorlaunch does not give you much protection from
the elements. The beach was covered under several feet of snow,
and the only heat we had was the exhaust stack from the grey marine
diesel engine. We, all 8 of us in the rescue boat had on long
johns, sweaters, foul weather overalls, and jackets, three buckle
arctic boots over shoes, and wool socks. We also had caps with ear
flaps, wool gloves with leather mittens, and still within 30 to 45
minutes, we were losing feeling in our hands and feet. Luckily all
eight of us came out of the three day ordeal without losing any
parts to frost bite. Shortly after this, we got orders to return to
the states and went home with great joy. My 3 year enlistment was
supposed to be over the last of June 1951, but President Truman gave
all of us a 1 year extension on our enlistments.
While in the states in 1951, we went into the yards at Terminal
Island Navy Yard for overhaul, and then shakedown, and underway
training. 7 October 1951 saw us underway again for the Far East. 7
November we were off the east coast of Korea again, near the village
of Songjin, and were firing at targets. We destroyed five villages
where enemy supplies were stored. We were the direct support to a
Naval intelligence island just north of Songjin, called Yang-do.
The people there were fishermen, but were sympathetic with the
south. There were ROK marines and one U.S. Marine lieutenant
intelligence officer. We supplied them with fresh water and
supplies. Christmas day 1951, we had a party for 35 children and 10
adults from Yang-do. Ships crew acted as big brothers, and when
that sailor had to go on watch another would take his place. Turkey
was a new dish, and rice was not on the official menu, but it was
served.
Endicott destroyed 14 mines while furnishing gunfire support for
a minesweeper in Songjin inner harbor on 4 February 1952. The
Endicott was taken under fire from shore batteries, and she had to
maneuver violently. She went to battle stations and was hit by a 37
mm round. It hit the bottom of an engine room vent, and just missed
two men standing in the hatch of the electricians shop. The
Endicott took 20 straddling rounds, but luckily none of them did any
damage to either the ship or any of the crew.
On 9 February 1952, during one of our nightly runs up the east
coast to Chongjin, at 41 degrees 50 minutes north latitude, the
farthest point north that they would let us go, which put us only
about 80 miles south of Vladivostok, Russia, the captain wanted to
match what a British Frigate had done sometime before. The
coastline up at Chongjin was shaped somewhat like a stretched C, and
on the south end, a river emptied into the sea, so we backed down in
the channel of the river, and waited for the train that we called
the "Pusan Limited" came through. This train seemed to run every
night, so we waited for a while until we could tell it was coming,
and it was during dark of the moon. When it got into our range,
almost point blank, we opened fire with our 3 single 5" 38 caliber
mounts and proceeded to blow up the train. It appeared to have been
carrying ammo and/or explosives. Quite a fireworks display.
On 19 February 1952, the communists served notice
that they didn't appreciatethe fact that United Nations were holding
Yang-do Island just a few miles north of Songjin, and they held an
amphibious landing party of about 200 assault troops. I had just
completed the 2000 to 2400 watch in the radio shack and was smoking
my last cigarette before going aft to the living compartment, when
the sounded "General Quarters", and we stayed at "GQ" until about
1030 or 1100 the next morning. The raiding party came over to the
island in a varied group of boats, and since the mainland was only
about 2 ½ miles island, it seemed like an easy raid to them. The
North Korean Major who led the raiding party had been raised on the
island, so he was familiar with everything. They killed a couple of
teenage boys who were manning one of the telephone outposts before
they could alert the ROK marines, and the U.S. Marine Officer, Lt.
Joe Bartos. He led the attack on the raiding party along with the
ROK marines, and gave a very good accounting of themselves. The
Endicott along with the British Frigate HMS Taupo furnished gunfire
support. The Taupo went into the channel between the island and the
mainland, and destroyed several boats of various sizes filled with
some of the raiders. The ROK marines on the island pinned down a
group of about 100 of the raiders, and when it got daylight, they
counted about 90 of the raiders dead. When the raiding party tried
to return to the mainland, Endicott and Taupo finished mopping up on
the returning raiders. The raiding party lost at least 100 men on
the island, and about 100 more in the channel, while the ROK marines
lost only 7 men. The communists never again tried to attack the
island. The Endicott received a scroll of appreciation from Vice
Admiral Suag, the Korean Chief of Naval Operations.
In March 1952, the Endicott had to do a minesweeping operation up
at Chongjin, would prove to be very hazardous. We had been making
the run from Songjin up to Chongjin at night, and after nearly
running over 5 or 6 mines that were floating free, The captain
persuaded the 7th Fleet Admiral that we could do the same
job in the daylight hours, and not have to worry about possibly
losing the ship to a mine. We were to sweep in very close to the
shore line. When we got up to Chongjin, we could see 3 of the very
large glass fishing floats, about 3 feet in diameter. The captain
pulled up and sent the 40 mm guncrew to their stations with orders
to blow the floats out of the water. Just about the time that the
40 mm fired the first round, the floats appeared to be spaced out in
a straight line from the shore. The shore batteries opened up and
hit the first buoy closest to the shore, the second hit the middle
buoy, and the third round hit the last buoy, and while this was
taking place, Captain Barnard was screaming for flank speed and
started a zig-zag run out to the open sea. By the time we got out
to about 10,000 to 12,000 yards. we had been straddled by about 25
more rounds. We then turned and started a firing run straight
toward the beach, zig-zagging as we went in, and didn't get hit by
any of their rounds until we turned and started out to the open
sea. Then we took a hit in the after peak tank on the starboard
corner of the stern. From the size of the hole, it had to be from
at least a 120mm gun, and they said that Korea was just a police
action. I sure would have liked to see the size of the pistol that
fired some of those rounds, as well as the policeman who could hold
that pistol. Our luck still held, and no person was injured. The
phone talker on the fantail was almost right over where the shell
hit, and it split the waterline. The hole was about 2 feet wide by
3 feet long. When we got hit, the USS Chandler DD717 came in to
foul the enemy range, and from the seaward side, it looked like the
beach side of the Chandler was nothing but guns and all firing at
the same time. We couldn't see the beach through all the smoke and
fire.We retired out to sea to lick our wounds and assess and patch
up the damage. They shifted all the liquid ballast to the port bow
as much as they could. Then they took a deck plate out of the
engine room, put a stage over the side and BM3 Ullman and a Damage
controlman went on to the stage to weld the plate over the hole.
The seas were beginning to roll the ship up and down, and they would
be in water up to their knees one minute, and then the water would
be up to their armpits. The man welding would weld little bit, and
then he would stick his elbow out toward the ship, and a spark would
jump to the ship. Captain Barnard received the Bronze Star, and I
believe that the Bosun and damage controlman also received the
Bronze Star for their part in this operation. Endicott returned to
Sasebo for repairs, and went into drydock for about a week. I was
scheduled to be discharged on 28 June 1952, and that would give me 3
years on my regular enlistment, and an additional year from the
presidential extension. I left the Endicott on 24 May 1952, up on
the line off Songjin, aboard the USS Katmai, an ammunition ship
bound for Sasebo. There were about three pullman cars full of
people returning to the states for discharge. I had been on the
Endicott for 3 years and 19 days. I ended up getting discharged
exactly 4 years from the time that I had enlisted. One of the
greatest moments of my life was in 1992. 40 years after I had left
the Endicott, I attended the first reunion that I knew about. I did
not believe that I would know anyone there, but after I had been
there for only about 5 minutes, someone behind me tapped me on the
shoulder and said "I believe that I know you," and I didn't even
have to turn around to know who that person was. What a great
feeling!
I hope that you can make some sense out of this, and that I
haven't rambled too much.
Most of this is from memory only.
I,
Russell D. Stephens, RM3, came aboard the Endicott on 5 May 1949,
the morning after she came back from Tsingtao, China. There were
four radioman strikers who reported aboard at the same time. We had
all finished radio school about the same time and had been assigned
to destroyers. I was assigned to the USS Dennis J. Buckley, DDR808,
who had just come back from the Western Pacific Fleet. I only
stayed on her for about a month, when she received orders to the
east coast. She was to go to the yards for overhaul, and then to
escort the USS Constellation, a hospital ship, on a two year
goodwill tour of Europe. I was transferred to the USS Piedmont AD17
there in San Diego to await further transfer to the Endicott when
she returned to the USA. I started in the radio shack on the
Endicott, but after a couple of months I transferred to the bridge,
to become a signalman/quartermaster striker. I stayed on the bridge
for about a year and then returned to the radio shack because I
couldn't change my rate to quartermaster. We had been operating in
and out of San Diego and Monterrey, California, and gone to the
yards in Vallejo, Mare Island Navy Shipyard.
All of the talk at that time was about French-Indo
China. Life magazine had run articles about the troubles there, and
the story about "Earth-Quake McGoon", I believe that was what he was
nicknamed. Then during the last week of June 1950, we got orders to
the Western Pacific Fleet, and of course the orders were sealed.
The Endicott and USS Doyle DMS34, both from the same squadron, were
ordered out together. We were the first two ships from the west
coast to leave on this mission. We sailed on 30 June 1950 for Pearl
Harbor, where we stayed for several days, and the Endicott alone was
ordered on to WestPac. The Doyle had developed mechanical problems
and could not continue. We took an oil king and water king to
Midway Island, and they opened up a refueling station there. For
the most part the island was deserted with only a squad of U.S.
Marines stationed there. After we got through refueling and taking
on fresh water, we got underway, heading for Japan. When we crossed
the International dateline west of Midway, the captain, Commander
John C. Jolly announced that we were going to Korea.
I have always been fascinated by maps, and I had
never hear of this place, so I went Up to bridge and got the
quartermaster to show me on the carts where it was located. I was
shocked because I had always heard of that place being called the
Chosen Peninsula, taken from China by the Japanese at the same time
they took Manchuria. Also at the time that we crossed the
International Dateline, we went to war time procedures, manning a
ready mount and darkened ship. For a young man not quite 21, and
having been raised in a small town west of San Antonio, Texas, it
was really scary, with lots of rumors going around the ship. Being
a radioman, had some moments where we were in on the latest events,
and sometimes wished we didn't learn them so quick.
It took us about 12 or 13 days to go from Midway
Island to Yokosuka Fleet Activities Base, Japan. We stayed in
Yokosuka for about a week, and then got orders to proceed to
Wakkanai, Hokkaido, Japan, the northern most city in Japan. We got
as far north as the Tsugaru Straits, between Honshu Island and
Hokkaido Island. We were ordered back south to the port of Kobe,
Japan to pick up a couple of CVE or jeep carriers. We went with
them to the Tsushima Straits between Kyushu Island Japan and Korea.
We were assigned as plane crash detail and anti-submarine duty with
them. They had, for the most part Marine fighter wings flying the
old gull-winged Corsair.
We stayed with the carriers for about a month, and then went to
the Masan-ChinhaeArea, about 30 miles to the west of Pusan. At that
time the North Koreans had pushed everything down to about a 30 mile
perimeter around Pusan. We became gunfire support for the Army 25th
Division. It was hot and with no fans to speak of, and staying in a
ready mode, we were told one night that no one could sleep below
decks. In the radio shack we were standing 4 hours on and 4 hours
off. During this time the North Koreans started to set up a gun
emplacement about 3 or 4 miles away on top of one of the mountains.
Our Executive Officer, Lt. C. E. Briggs watched this operation for
several days, and one day I took the message board up to have him
sign for a message, and he showed me what they were doing. He
waited until they were just about ready to start firing from that
position, and then he changed the ready mount and ordered them to
start firing. It didn't take many rounds from that single 5" 38
caliber mount to blow the gun away, along with some of the
soldiers. This was done three different times before they decided
to stop. While we were in Chinhae Bay, we were swinging at anchor,
so we could have been an easy target.
Our first encounter with mines, our primary duty was mine
warfare, was getting called up to Pohang, Korea about 65 to 75 miles
north of Pusan on the east coast of Korea,to look for survivors from
the USS Ptarmigan, an AMS, who had been sunk by a mine. All that we
could find was some debris floating in the general area. The
Ptarmigan was a wooden hulled tuna boat from the San Diego Tuna
Fleet before WWII, so there wasn't much chance for survivors. After
finding nothing more than debris, we returned to Chinhae Man, to
continue interdiction and harassing fire both day and night. The
ground troops that we were supporting sometimes called in fire on
certain coordinates. We had a spotter plane up one evening, and he
was calling for some really weird coordinates, changing them
rapidly, so the captain got on the radio and asked the spotter what
we were shooting at, and the pilot said it was a man and an oxcart.
He said we have hit the ox and cart, and with two more rounds we
will have the man. We only got underway to replenish food supplies
and ammunition, which we did in Sasebo, and then it was right back
to our firing mission.
On 15 September 1950, the Endicott escorted a ROK LST to the
Chang Sa Dong area, sometimes referred to as Yong Dok. The LST
didn't hit the beach the way she was designed, but hit a sand bar,
and broached, turned sideways to the beach. She was helpless, as she
couldn't move, and was soon taken underfire from guns on the
shore. The Endicott's fire control battery, and lookouts couldn't
locate the guns,so the Endicott's captain called for an air strike.
The ROK marines on the LST began to jump into the water with full
field packs, guns, and ammunition. The Valley Forge CV45 sent two
AD Sky Raiders, single engine propeller aircraft in to support us
and try to locate where the enemy fire was coming from. They
located it right away. It was coming from two tanks about halfway
up the side of a mountain, on a road that was hidden to us by trees,
plus it was above our level. The strike aircraft soon dispatched,
or rather knocked out the tanks with bombs. This landing was a
diversionary landing on the east coast of Korea, while at the same
time troops weremaking the landing at Inchon and Seoul.
Our next mission was to follow the ROK Third Division up the east
coast, starting at about Pohang. We provided gunfire support when
called to fire on specific targets, and also harassing and
interdiction firing at night.
On the morning of 12 October 1950, the ROK Third Division hit the
airport south of Wonsan, North Korea. This put us north of the 38th
parallel, which was the dividing line between North and South Korea
after WWII. Wonsan was just a little north of the 39th parallel.
The Endicott and another destroyer, and the name doesn't come to me
right now, were supposed to be the gunfire support for a group of
smaller sweepers. About five or six Japanese sailors of fortune in
small wooden sweepers were to lead the group followed by several
AMS's, from US Navy, and then the USS Pirate and USS Pledge, both
185 AM class mine sweepers. Then after the Pirate and Pledge came
the Endicott and the other destroyer. Someone got their wires
crossed, and the Japanese sailors of fortune and the AMS's finally
arrived on the scene. In the mean time, the Pirate and the Pledge
were leading the pack, with the Endicott behind them. When the
Pirate and the Pledge passed between Ko To Island on the south of
the channel, and Rei To on the north of the channel, 14 horned or
contact mines popped to the surface, like soneone had released them
all at once. I was standing on the 01 deck of the Endicott on the
port side aft of the mast and superstructure, with a clear view.
Just as the two minesweepers cut the14 mines, the Pirate shuddered,
a puff of black smoke came from her starboard side and I could hear
a muffled explosion, and she began settling by the stern. The
Pledge was slightly astern of the Pirate at this time, and the shore
batteries from the inner harbor began firing at the Pirate¸ and crew
began to abandon ship. The Pledge pulled around the starboard side
of the Pirate and began firing what guns she had. The Endicott
fired all that she was capable of with only three single gun 5" 38
caliber mounts. The shore batteries were silenced, and both the
Pirate and Pledge were on the bottom in a very short time. The
combined crews of the two sunken ships totaled about 130 officers
and men. The Endicott picked up as many of the survivors as was
possible with their whale boats, and the rest were picked up by some
of the smaller sweepers, and brought to the Endicott. There were
quite a few broken arms, legs, and cut throats. The throat injuries
came because 7 th Fleet had just put out an order for all
hands to be on deck except those absolutely necessary for the
operation of the ship .
However,
they did
not give any instructions how the helmets were to be worn, and with
the chin strap loosely fastened, the concussion blew the helmets up
and cut the wearers throat. The survivors were supposed to be
transferred to a cruiser, but the weather began to turn sour, so the
Endicott ended up taking the survivors to Pusan to the hospital ship
Constellation I believe.
The Endicott returned to Wonsan, and sweeping
continued. United Nations ships weresoon unloading troops and
supplies there on regular schedules. The war moved north.
Operations required a Hungnam channel, so the Endicoctt commenced
sweeping there during the first week of December. The harbor and
facilities were ready when Chinese Communists began pouring over the
border of Manchuria and into North Korea. The Hungnam channels were
expanded. The Endicott had one sweeping job between Wonsan and
Hungnam and that was to sweep a 10 mile stretch north of Hungnam
from the 100 fathom curve in to the 50 fathom curve. I was called
to the bridge to man the captains battle circuit, on the sound
powered phones. I was standing in back of the lee helm position
against the bulkhead that separated the pilot house from the sonar
room. The sound of the pings from the sonar gear were loud and very
clear in my position. When they began to pick up echoes, the pings
changed to ping-wop as we got a good return from the under water
targets. We had no way of knowing if the targets were mines, under
water structures, whales, or possibly submarines. Even though we
were in swept water after the first pass, it was a very nerve
wracking time until we finished the operation.
The Endicott was back in Wonsan harbor over Thanksgiving, and the
hills to the west and north of the city were ablaze with fires set
by guerilla forces in the area. I heard one report that there were
estimated to be somewhere close to 10,000 guerillas in that area
alone. I do know that when we were following the South Korean ROK
Third Division up the east coast from about Pohang to Wonsan, they
moved quite rapidly, and didn't appear to have time to go to the
west side of the mountains.
On 13 December 1950, Lt. Cmdr. L. W. Barnard USN, relieved Cmdr.
John C. Jolly USN, as commanding officer of the Endicott. The next
time the Endicott was underway for a base to the south. She
completed this operation in two days, made two trips to Japan, then
returned to Hungnam, where she worked until the evacuation.
On Christmas day 1950, the transports departed enmasse from
Hungnam, carrying 60,000 troops out of the jaws of the enemy's
trap. They stood out through mine free waters which had been swept
by the Endicott. Fire Support ships remained to pound the advancing
enemy. Then, they too departed. An interesting side light to the
actual evacuation at Hungnam, was that we could see the Red Chinese
walking along the top of the ridge to the west and north of
Hungnam. They didn't appear to be trying to shoot, but just walking
a guard post. As the last of the departing fleet were leaving the
area, Underwater Demolition Teams 1 and 3, now called the Seals, had
set charges along the water front. When they set off the charges,
the whole dock area seemed to lift up in the air about 10 to 12
feet, and then just disintegrated into a cloud of dust.
In heavy seas and blinding snows of January 1951, the Siamese
frigate Prosae went aground on an enemy held beach. The Endicott
arrived first on the scene and maneuvered through churning combers
up to the breakers off the coast. The Endicott lowered a whale
boat. It proceeded to the scene and rescued the men from the water
and towed the pulling boat back to her mother ship. The Endicott
guns stood ready for enemy attack.The Endicott sent a cable over to
the Prosae in a desperate attempt to pull her off the bottom, but
try as we might, we just couldn't move her. A helicopter was sent
over from a cruiser who lay of shore, and picked up the Mine
Squadron Commander and took him over to the Prosae. As the
helicopter was hovering over the flying bridge, I saw Commodore
Gallagher stepping out of the choper, and almost at the same time,
the chopper crashed into the flying bridge. The 20 MM ammunition
ready boxes that were up there began to explode and crewmen started
to jump over the side into the frigid waters. We sent our whale
boat back out with the squadron doctor and our Chief Hospital
Corpsman and they picked up as many as they could out of the water
and deposited them on the beach, where the medics took care of them
as best as they could. The snow on the beach was about 8 feet deep,
and the enemy had trenches dug out so they could move around in and
we couldn't see them. Seas finally broached the Prosae, and she
started to break apart. The crew was evacuated and she was
destroyed.
Mid-February 1951, found the Endicott back in Wonsan
harbor, to be support for some very small and shallow draft boats
that were equipped to be sweepers for the shallow waters of the
outer bay at Wonsan. Three of us from the Endicott were ordered to
be part of the crew for a rescue boat for these sweeping
operations. Our commanding officer was Lt. S.C. Myers, MD. We were
to use a 40 foot motor launch under the command of W.R. Siddall,
Boatswain Mate 1st class. Medical officer was D. Mahone,
HN., and myself, Russell D. Stephens, RMSN, radioman. Plus there
were 5 seaman crew members from the USS Comstock LSD19, for a total
of eight men in the 40 foot motor launch. The first day we tried to
go out, a very thick fog had moved in and we got lost just as soon
as we left sight of the ship. I don't think we were more than a
couple of hundred yards, and we couldn't see anything. I called the
ship on the radio, and told them what the situation was, and they
gave us a heading to start out and when they saw something on radar,
had us turn for identification. The suggested heading got us back
to the ship, so we stayed aboard for the rest of that day.
The next time we went out only a day or so later, it was bitterly
cold, around –20 degrees, and a north wind of about 15 to 25 knots.
An open 40 foot motorlaunch does not give you much protection from
the elements. The beach was covered under several feet of snow,
and the only heat we had was the exhaust stack from the grey marine
diesel engine. We, all 8 of us in the rescue boat had on long
johns, sweaters, foul weather overalls, and jackets, three buckle
arctic boots over shoes, and wool socks. We also had caps with ear
flaps, wool gloves with leather mittens, and still within 30 to 45
minutes, we were losing feeling in our hands and feet. Luckily all
eight of us came out of the three day ordeal without losing any
parts to frost bite. Shortly after this, we got orders to return to
the states and went home with great joy. My 3 year enlistment was
supposed to be over the last of June 1951, but President Truman gave
all of us a 1 year extension on our enlistments.
While in the states in 1951, we went into the yards at Terminal
Island Navy Yard for overhaul, and then shakedown, and underway
training. 7 October 1951 saw us underway again for the Far East. 7
November we were off the east coast of Korea again, near the village
of Songjin, and were firing at targets. We destroyed five villages
where enemy supplies were stored. We were the direct support to a
Naval intelligence island just north of Songjin, called Yang-do.
The people there were fishermen, but were sympathetic with the
south. There were ROK marines and one U.S. Marine lieutenant
intelligence officer. We supplied them with fresh water and
supplies. Christmas day 1951, we had a party for 35 children and 10
adults from Yang-do. Ships crew acted as big brothers, and when
that sailor had to go on watch another would take his place. Turkey
was a new dish, and rice was not on the official menu, but it was
served.
Endicott destroyed 14 mines while furnishing gunfire support for
a minesweeper in Songjin inner harbor on 4 February 1952. The
Endicott was taken under fire from shore batteries, and she had to
maneuver violently. She went to battle stations and was hit by a 37
mm round. It hit the bottom of an engine room vent, and just missed
two men standing in the hatch of the electricians shop. The
Endicott took 20 straddling rounds, but luckily none of them did any
damage to either the ship or any of the crew.
On 9 February 1952, during one of our nightly runs up the east
coast to Chongjin, at 41 degrees 50 minutes north latitude, the
farthest point north that they would let us go, which put us only
about 80 miles south of Vladivostok, Russia, the captain wanted to
match what a British Frigate had done sometime before. The
coastline up at Chongjin was shaped somewhat like a stretched C, and
on the south end, a river emptied into the sea, so we backed down in
the channel of the river, and waited for the train that we called
the "Pusan Limited" came through. This train seemed to run every
night, so we waited for a while until we could tell it was coming,
and it was during dark of the moon. When it got into our range,
almost point blank, we opened fire with our 3 single 5" 38 caliber
mounts and proceeded to blow up the train. It appeared to have been
carrying ammo and/or explosives. Quite a fireworks display.
On 19 February 1952, the communists served notice
that they didn't appreciatethe fact that United Nations were holding
Yang-do Island just a few miles north of Songjin, and they held an
amphibious landing party of about 200 assault troops. I had just
completed the 2000 to 2400 watch in the radio shack and was smoking
my last cigarette before going aft to the living compartment, when
the sounded "General Quarters", and we stayed at "GQ" until about
1030 or 1100 the next morning. The raiding party came over to the
island in a varied group of boats, and since the mainland was only
about 2 ½ miles island, it seemed like an easy raid to them. The
North Korean Major who led the raiding party had been raised on the
island, so he was familiar with everything. They killed a couple of
teenage boys who were manning one of the telephone outposts before
they could alert the ROK marines, and the U.S. Marine Officer, Lt.
Joe Bartos. He led the attack on the raiding party along with the
ROK marines, and gave a very good accounting of themselves. The
Endicott along with the British Frigate HMS Taupo furnished gunfire
support. The Taupo went into the channel between the island and the
mainland, and destroyed several boats of various sizes filled with
some of the raiders. The ROK marines on the island pinned down a
group of about 100 of the raiders, and when it got daylight, they
counted about 90 of the raiders dead. When the raiding party tried
to return to the mainland, Endicott and Taupo finished mopping up on
the returning raiders. The raiding party lost at least 100 men on
the island, and about 100 more in the channel, while the ROK marines
lost only 7 men. The communists never again tried to attack the
island. The Endicott received a scroll of appreciation from Vice
Admiral Suag, the Korean Chief of Naval Operations.
In March 1952, the Endicott had to do a minesweeping operation up
at Chongjin, would prove to be very hazardous. We had been making
the run from Songjin up to Chongjin at night, and after nearly
running over 5 or 6 mines that were floating free, The captain
persuaded the 7th Fleet Admiral that we could do the same
job in the daylight hours, and not have to worry about possibly
losing the ship to a mine. We were to sweep in very close to the
shore line. When we got up to Chongjin, we could see 3 of the very
large glass fishing floats, about 3 feet in diameter. The captain
pulled up and sent the 40 mm guncrew to their stations with orders
to blow the floats out of the water. Just about the time that the
40 mm fired the first round, the floats appeared to be spaced out in
a straight line from the shore. The shore batteries opened up and
hit the first buoy closest to the shore, the second hit the middle
buoy, and the third round hit the last buoy, and while this was
taking place, Captain Barnard was screaming for flank speed and
started a zig-zag run out to the open sea. By the time we got out
to about 10,000 to 12,000 yards. we had been straddled by about 25
more rounds. We then turned and started a firing run straight
toward the beach, zig-zagging as we went in, and didn't get hit by
any of their rounds until we turned and started out to the open
sea. Then we took a hit in the after peak tank on the starboard
corner of the stern. From the size of the hole, it had to be from
at least a 120mm gun, and they said that Korea was just a police
action. I sure would have liked to see the size of the pistol that
fired some of those rounds, as well as the policeman who could hold
that pistol. Our luck still held, and no person was injured. The
phone talker on the fantail was almost right over where the shell
hit, and it split the waterline. The hole was about 2 feet wide by
3 feet long. When we got hit, the USS Chandler DD717 came in to
foul the enemy range, and from the seaward side, it looked like the
beach side of the Chandler was nothing but guns and all firing at
the same time. We couldn't see the beach through all the smoke and
fire.We retired out to sea to lick our wounds and assess and patch
up the damage. They shifted all the liquid ballast to the port bow
as much as they could. Then they took a deck plate out of the
engine room, put a stage over the side and BM3 Ullman and a Damage
controlman went on to the stage to weld the plate over the hole.
The seas were beginning to roll the ship up and down, and they would
be in water up to their knees one minute, and then the water would
be up to their armpits. The man welding would weld little bit, and
then he would stick his elbow out toward the ship, and a spark would
jump to the ship. Captain Barnard received the Bronze Star, and I
believe that the Bosun and damage controlman also received the
Bronze Star for their part in this operation. Endicott returned to
Sasebo for repairs, and went into drydock for about a week. I was
scheduled to be discharged on 28 June 1952, and that would give me 3
years on my regular enlistment, and an additional year from the
presidential extension. I left the Endicott on 24 May 1952, up on
the line off Songjin, aboard the USS Katmai, an ammunition ship
bound for Sasebo. There were about three pullman cars full of
people returning to the states for discharge. I had been on the
Endicott for 3 years and 19 days. I ended up getting discharged
exactly 4 years from the time that I had enlisted. One of the
greatest moments of my life was in 1992. 40 years after I had left
the Endicott, I attended the first reunion that I knew about. I did
not believe that I would know anyone there, but after I had been
there for only about 5 minutes, someone behind me tapped me on the
shoulder and said "I believe that I know you," and I didn't even
have to turn around to know who that person was. What a great
feeling!
I hope that you can make some sense out of this, and that I
haven't rambled too much. Most of this is from memory only.
|
|