Brooklyn Against the U-boats.

A bit more than 71 years ago, on August 7, 1943, a Lockheed PV-1 Ventura aircraft took off from Floyd Bennett Field in Brooklyn at 4.30 in the morning to investigate a report of a u-boat sighting some 300 miles off the Virginia coast around Norfolk, Virginia. Visibility was excellent and the sea was calm with light swells. The Ventura and its crew belonged to the Navy’s Bombing Squadron VB-128, and the squadron’s tasks included anti-submarine patrolling along the Eastern Seaboard.

Following the United States’ entry into the Second World War, German u-boats began attacking shipping along the Eastern Seaboard. The United States was ill-prepared to defend its sea lanes against the Kriegsmarine, which conducted several operations against targets in American waters from 1942 and onwards, including seven attacks against targets anchored in the New York harbor. The u-boat men called this the “Second happy time” (the first such time was had in the Atlantic in 1940-41) or the “American shooting season.” The results were convincing: between January and August 1942, German u-boats sank 609 ships totaling 3.1 million tons for the loss of only twenty-two u-boats. Thousands of lives were lost, mainly merchant mariners, and the United States had to find a way to defend the vital sea lines against the u-boat menace as burning ships dotted the East Coast sea lanes. However, the U.S. response was slow, and it took several months before even convoying was introduced, while cities refused blacking out their lights due to business reasons. The U.S. Forces available to defend the sea lanes were also initially inadequate in terms of training, organization, tactics, quantity and technology.

As the war progressed, the U.S. defenses became more apt at countering the u-boat scourge, and the defenses were also bolstered by British air and sea units. The German operations were scaled down in July as the u-boats sought easier targets further south. Nevertheless, u-boats were to engage targets along the East Coast up to the end of the war. New York City had also expanded the defenses of its waterways, and Naval Air Station (NAS) New York Floyd Bennett Field was a very important part of these defenses, being the base for several operational units. It was also en embarkation point for newly manufactured naval aircraft. The build-up of Navy and Coast Guard forces based at Floyd Bennett Field started even before the U.S. entered the war, and it was officially dedicated as a Naval Air Station on June 2, 1941. Aircraft from NAS NY saw action for the first time on May 1, 1942, when an aircraft sighted a periscope and attacked the target off Fire Island.

As 1942 turned into 1943, Floyd Bennet Field was the base for Squadron VS-34 with twenty-one floatplanes and Squadron VB-128 with twelve Lockheed PV-1 Venturas as well as eleven Coast Guard aircraft. The United States Army Air Force also operated patrol aircraft, albeit from Mitchel Field in Hempstead on Long Island.

The Captain Marvel unit badge of VB-128. It was re-designated as VPB-128 on October 1, 1944

The Lockheed Venturas of VB-128 were bomber and patrol aircraft developed from the civilian Lockheed Lodestar. It was a two-engined aircraft that entered service in December 1942, and it was a fast and rugged aircraft, although somewhat demanding for the pilot to fly. It had a crew of six, a cruise speed of 230 mph, a range of 1,660 miles and it was armed with six machine guns as well as bombs, torpedoes or depth charges.

The Lockheed PV-1 Ventura.

Squadron VB-128 was established on February 15, 1943, and it had been flying various anti-submarine missions throughout the year as part of Fleet Air Wing 9, although without actually sinking an enemy vessel. This particular Ventura (Aircraft P-9, BuNo 29909) was piloted by Lieutenant (jg) Frederick “Ted” Cushing Cross, who was born on July 8, 1917, in Lunenburg, Massachusetts. Cross had enlisted in the United States Naval Reserve on March 22, 1941. Following aviation training, Cross was posted to a bombing squadron at DeLand, Florida, before ending up at Floyd Bennett Field with VB-128.

As Cross and his crew of two flew south, they used the air-to-sea radar on board the Ventura to look for the possible enemy u-boat, and after some time in the air an echo was noticed on the radar screen. They had found their target, in this case the u-boat U-566.

U-566 was a Type VIIC u-boat, the most common type in service with the German Navy. The U-566 had been commissioned on April 17, 1941, and she had conducted five war patrols before being taken over by her current commanding officer, Kapitänleutnant Hans Hornkohl. On August 7, 1943, Hornkohl was leading the tenth war patrol of the U-566, and he may have had reason to feel somewhat satisfied: his crew had just sunk the gunboat USS Plymouth off Virginia only two days before, on the evening of August 5. Of the crew of 155 officers and men, 70 were killed by the single torpedo that sent the gunboat to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.

Kapitänleutnant Hans Hornkohl

On August 7, Hornkohl was still sailing in the same general area, in this case off the Delmarva Peninsula, when Cross dove down to attack the u-boat. Hornkohl may have been surprised, or he may have simply decided to slug it out with the attacker, but instead of diving to escape the attacker, he ordered the crews of his 20mm anti-aircraft guns to engage. The results were quite satisfactory, and the Ventura dove into a steady stream of cannon fire. One shell hit and shattered the right engine of the Ventura, causing a fire. Cross himself sustained mortal injuries, probably as a result of being hit by splinters from exploding shells, while his co-pilot and radio operator also were wounded. Yet, Cross continued his attack, even he was in excruciating pain. He dropped four depth charges across the bow of the U-566, although the charges failed to explode. They were possibly not armed properly, or perhaps dropped from too low an altitude. While Cross struggled to keep the damaged Ventura in the air, he soon realized that he had to ditch the aircraft, and he made a Realizing that he couldn’t keep the Ventura in the air, Cross made a perfect emergency landing in the ocean “within 15 miles of 37-35N; 71-20W.” The three wounded aviators managed to leave the Ventura, but Cross succumbed to his wounds and slipped out of his life preserver. The co-pilot and radio operator were rescued by a PBM aircraft some five hours after ditching. Frederick C. Cross was posthumously awarded the Navy Cross.

The crew of U-566 must have been elated to fight off an enemy aircraft (misidentified as a B-25 Mitchell, by the way), but they would have yet another encounter with VB-128 that day, when Lieutenant (jg) Joseph H. “Blackie” George, the son of a Georgia Senator, encountered the u-boat. George was born on November 1916, in Vienna, Georgia, and he became an aviation cadet in the US Navy Reserve as early as October 11, 1938 after having spent some time in both the Georgia National Guard and in other positions within the US Navy Reserve. He served with VP-83 when he was transferred to VB-128 on February 18, 1943. On August 7, 1943, George took off on an antisubmarine patrol flight. After “several minutes”, the aircraft was ordered to 37-35N; 71-20W to “investigate the area and stand by a plane which had landed to pick up survivors of another plane which had been shot down by an enemy submarine.” The last report from George simply acknowledged receiving this message. It may seem odd that there are no further reports from George, but if this was due to atmospheric circumstances, procedures or just negligence is impossible to know.

What happened was that at 6.15 pm, George’s crew spotted the U-566. He dove down to attack, and once again the u-boat crew responded with anti-aircraft fire, hitting the Ventura repeatedly as the aircraft dropped a stick of four depth charges. One actually hit the U-566, but it bounced off the u-boat before exploding. By then the Ventura was burning, and it crashed into the ocean some 1,200 meters from the u-boat. There were no survivors.

The U-566 did speed towards the crash site, but a Ventura from VB-126 and a Mariner from VB-211 appeared, forcing the u-boat to dive away from the scene after an exchange of gunfire for depth charges. Back at Floyd Bennett Field and VB-128, the evening must have been quite somber.

Sources

Michael Gannon. Operation Drumbeat: the dramatic true story of Germany's first U-boat attacks along the American coast in World War II

John C. Stanaway. Vega Ventura. The Operational History of Lockheed’s Lucky Star

The Veteran’s Memorial Hospital’s report on Marcus George (Report 80-6)

oocities.org/fort_tilden/pv1.html

uboat.net

vpnavy.com

Brooklyn on the High Seas

November 30, 2011 marked the 75th anniversary of the light cruiser U.S.S. Brooklyn (CL-40) being launched at The Brooklyn Navy yards. The vessel was sponsored by Miss Kathryn Jane Lackey, daughter of Rear Admiral F. R. Lackey, and she was completed approximately a year and a half later, on July 18, 1938. The U.S.S. Brooklyn was the first in a class of nine light cruisers, and she was also the third U.S.S. Brooklyn in the history of the U.S. Navy. The first was a wooden sloop-of-war that served during the Civil War and subsequently up to the end of the 19th century, while the second was an armored cruiser and the U.S. flagship during the Spanish-American War. 

The U.S.S Brooklyn was designed according to the limits of the London Treaty of 1930, a treaty that attempted to limit naval arms races, but she was nevertheless a powerful vessel. Displacing 9,767 tons, the ship was armed with 15 six-inch Mk 16 rapid fire guns using semi-fixed ammunition that could fire a 130 lb shell up to 26,100 yards. She was also armed with eight five-inch secondary guns and a plethora of anti-aircraft artillery. The heavy armament did lead to modest armor protection in an effort to save weight, though.

Her four-shaft turbines could propel the Brooklyn at a flank speed of 32.5 knots, and she carried two catapults for launching aircraft. Most importantly, she was manned by 868 officers and enlisted men that would take part in fierce actions later on. One of these men was young Leonard Alfred Schneider from Mineola, who only later on was to become Lenny Bruce.

The U.S.S. Brooklyn saw much activity even before the United States joined World War Two. She was the base ship for the rescue of crew from the sunken submarine U.S.S. Squalus, performed a goodwill tour of the South Pacific, and took part in both a New York World’s Fair and the Golden Gate International Exposition. With war looming, the U.S.S. Brooklyn took part in convoy escort and neutrality patrols.

Once the United States entered the war, the U.S.S. Brooklyn escorted several convoys across the Atlantic. On September 3, 1942, Brooklyn rescued 1,173 troops from the Wakefield after a fire caused the Wakefield to be abandoned. Two months later, Brooklyn finally fired its guns at the enemy to support the Allied landings in North Africa (Operation Torch). The targets for Brooklyn were shore installations at Fédala, between Casablanca and Rabat in neutral French-controlled Morocco. She also suffered her first casualties during that engagement when French coastal artillery hit the Brooklyn. Fortunately, the shell was a dud, but five crew members were wounded and two of the Brooklyn’s guns were damage. U.S.S. Brooklyn took part in the on-and-off naval engagements between November 8 and November 16 around Casablanca, engaging a French destroyer flotilla on the late morning of November 8. Later that day, the French submarine Amazone fired a spread of torpedoes at the cruiser, fortunately without hitting the Brooklyn.

Following Operation Torch, the Brooklyn once again performed escort duties as well as exercises off the coast of Maine. She also received an overhaul at the Philadelphia Naval Yards.

On July 10, the cruiser brought the name of the Borough back to the place of origin of many of its inhabitants: Sicily. The Allied invasion of Sicily (Operation Husky) took place between July 10 and July 14, 1943, and the Brooklyn was tasked with supporting the landings near Licata on the south coast of Sicily, a small town that was the namesake of several Americans of Sicilian origin.

The Brooklyn sighted the Sicilian coast just after 4 AM in the morning of July 10 after braving heavy winds. By then, the Sicilian shore was already subject to both naval and aerial bombardment. The Axis forces ashore fire star shells to illuminate the Allied naval forces, and at 4:12 AM, the Brooklyn was subject to aerial bombardment herself. With bombs landing both port and starboard of the cruiser, the crew fired back with their anti-aircraft guns, reportedly hitting and shooting down an enemy bomber with 20mm fire. Sometime before 4:45 AM, the Brooklyn opened fire with its 6-inch guns against pre-determined targets, although the artillery spotters in the aircraft operated by the Brooklyn claimed that it was still too dark to see the targets and thus to correct the artillery fire.

As the sun rose, Radioman First Class Milton A. Briggs reported that “We have lost communication with our planes and are firing by radar only. Great billows of smoke can be seen rolling into the sky, as our shells explode in the town [Licata]. A lot of people must be dying in there. We have finished off all other targets and are ordered to resume shelling the town again.” The pre-planned naval gunfire was ordered to cease shortly after dawn, but the Brooklyn and her sister ship U.S.S. Boise (CL-47) continued to engage enemy artillery and mortars firing on American soldiers on the beaches west of Licata, eventually silencing the enemy guns at approximately 7 AM.

The Brooklyn and all other support vessels remained at general quarters, ready to provide fire support for the soldiers ashore throughout the next several days. The Axis forces – and the Germans in particular – responded by intense air attacks, sinking the destroyer U.S.S. Maddox as well as a transport vessel, a tank transport vessel (Landing Ship Tank, LST) and the ammunition ship S.S. Robert Rowan within eyesight of the crew of the Brooklyn.

The Brooklyn had managed to avoid getting hit by enemy ordnance, but near-disaster struck at 5:15 AM on July 14, when the cruiser struck at least two mines while patrolling southward and westward off Licata. But despite two mine explosions, the damage was slight: the Brooklyn’s main pumps were flooded and she lost 30,000 gallons of fresh water, not to mention losing the ability to maneuver and avoid enemy air attacks. Radioman Briggs described the mine explosions in the following way: “I have never been so shaken up in my life as I was when we hit those mines! The ship shook and jumped so that one's teeth clicked together like castanets.”

But the luck of the Brooklyn held, and she could leave the Licata area next day. In July the Brooklyn became the flagship of Cruiser Division Eight’s Rear Admiral Lyal A. Davidson, and she went on to support the Anzio-Nettuno landings on the west coast of Italy on January 22, 1944 (Operation Shingle). She also provided naval gunfire support for Allied troops in the Formia-Anzio area between May 13 and May 23, and she finally supported the Allied landings on the south coast of France (Operation Dragoon) on August 15, 1944. The U.S.S. Brooklyn remained on duty in the Mediterranean during the fall of 1944, but in November it was time for the Brooklyn to be extensively overhauled and altered.

She left Sicily on November 21 and arrived at New York on November 30. The overhaul of the Brooklyn took place at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, and work was completed in May 1945. Post-overhaul exercises took place along the eastern seaboard between May and September of 1945, and when these exercises were complete, the Second World War was over. Thus, the U.S.S. Brooklyn sailed to the Philadelphia Navy Yard for a pre-inactivation overhaul, being commissioned to reserve on January 30, 1946. She was de-commissioned on January 3, 1947.

However, the vessel still had a long career ahead of her. On January 9, 1951, the former U.S.S. Brooklyn was transferred to the Chilean Navy as part of the Mutual Defense Assistance Program. The cruiser was renamed O’Higgins after Bernardo O’Higgins Riquelme, arguably the most prominent leader of the Chilean War of Independence and subsequently the country’s first dictator. O’Higgins served under the Chilean flag for 40 years, and she was sold for scrap in 1992. Perhaps time eventually caught up with her, since she foundered and sank off Pitcairn Island while under tow to ship breakers in India.

The United States’ naval contribution to the war in the Mediterranean is often overlooked, but it was a long and grueling campaign that lasted until V-E Day. The U.S.S. Brooklyn took part in both the Mediterranean naval campaign and perilous Atlantic crossings while escorting convoys for almost three years before returning to the Brooklyn Navy Yards. For her service during World War Two, the U.S.S Brooklyn received four battle stars. 

There is little left today to remind us of the most recent warship bearing the name of our Borough, but the 303-pound ship’s bell of the U.S.S. Brooklyn is on prominent display at the Brooklyn College Library.