My Account of the Grounding
September 24, 1999
After attending the USS BACHE DD-470 Shipmates Reunion in Branson, MO, Sept 1999,
I decided to write MY account of the last hours of our ship. At the reunion I was able to read the accounts that were printed in various newspapers. It was mentioned that someone had prepared
a video presentation of the Grounding. Considering that it was on a dark night, on a dark sea, in
a hurricane, before the invention of camcorders, I wondered where the pictures came from.
Considering that the events took place over 30 years ago, I will admit that is possible that
some of the details may have been forgotten, or distorted. I can only relate the events AS I REMEMBER THEM.
I was on board the Bache TDY, awaiting the next class starting date of Nuclear Power School at Bainbridge, Maryland. I came aboard in Norfolk, Virginia, as an MMFA (designated striker Machinist's Mate) I was assigned M Division, in the After Engineroom, under MM1 'Pappy' Nunn.
This was the finest crew that I ever served with during my stay in the Navy. During our 'shakedown' in GITMO, we passed all the tests on the FIRST try. Subsequent visits to GITMO on other vessels were somewhat disappointing in comparison. The Damage Control and Operational Emergencies were handled efficiently and effectively. Everyone knew what to do --- and DID it.
February 6, 1968
We were anchored in the Aegean Sea off the island of Rhodes, Greece. Our Engineering Officer, Lt. Brown, had just received orders for his own command. A going-away party was underway on Rhodes. The 'old man', Cmdr Broadwell, and several of the officers and crew were in attendance. The Duty Section was left on board under the command of LCDR J.H. Carrington, Jr, the Executive Officer, who had only recently come aboard. Scuttlebutt had it that this was his first time at sea, having attained his rank as a desk jockey.
I was in my rack alseep when General Quarters was 'sounded.' Only having time to put on my boondockers, I manned my station in Main Control at the Evaporators, in my skivvies. There was a severe storm going on. I heard later that it was either a gale, or a hurricane, depending on which source you believed. The plan was the weigh anchor and get underway to better weather the storm at sea. This made sense since we had experienced a similar storm of the coast of the Carolinas on the way back from GITMO to Norfolk. Although we bounced around like a cork and decorated the deck in the Mess, we came through in tact.
Shortly after reaching our respective stations, it was reported that the reduction gear in the After Engineroom had 'dropped' through the bottom of the ship. The crew abandoned the space, with the last man up the ladder being soaked head-to-toe and the Aegean Sea at this heels.
In Main Control, we were able to get a few turns on the screw. Suddenly the tach pegged out.
Apparently we had snapped the main shaft, loosing the main screw. We were 'dead-in-the-water.'
Shortly thereafter Abandon Ship was sounded, and I went to my station on the 01 Level.
MM1 'Pappy' Nunn did his usual best to keep us calm and in order. It was reported that one of the swells had broken OVER the stacks and dislodged a radio antenna. It was to have cut a crew member along the side of his face. This was to be the most severe injury that anyone incurred.
We were very fortunate.
Once 'on station' we were told that the seas were too rough to attempt leaving the ship. We were to remain on station until the storm calmed. My recollection is that we had to wait until about midnight, and the we jokingly adopted Wilson Pickett's song "Wait 'Til the Midnight Hour" as our theme song. Whether this was true of the entire crew, I have no way of knowing.
By the time the seas had calmed enough to try to leave the ship, the Main Deck was roughly even with the sea level. The first lifeboat was launched. It inflated, deflated, and sank. Not a good sign.
The second lifeboat remained afloat. Volunteers were asked to take a line to a rock formation located between us and the shore. They were to string another line from the formation to the shore. Subsequent life boats were overloaded to evacuate the ship as quickly as possible.
(Side Note: That morning I had visited Sick Bay and had both of my ingrown toenails removed.)
The lifeboat that I was in reached the formation, but found no line to shore. All hands abandoned the lifeboat since the tide was going out to sea. We had to swim to shore. The saltwater and the open sores on my toes were great motivators. I have no recollection as to the distance. It couldn't have been too far because I made it.
When I reached the shore, I saw a tall, black figure. I figured that I had died, and was seeing the devil. A figure in white came from behind each side of the black figure. One handed me a cup, and the other poured whiskey into it. The black figure turned out to be a Greek Orthodox Rabbi. I was taken to a building to join the others that had arrived before me. The townspeople brought us dry clothes and blankets. After some time we were transported to the HOTEL ALEXIA. It was under construction, but had six floors completed. We were placed two to a room. The following day we were addressed by the Commander of the ComDesSub Fleet, congradulating us on a job well done for not losing any of the crew, and our attempt to save our ship. We were able to call home collect Over the next few days we were processed to new duty stations, given new seabags, and re-imbursed for personal gear that was lost.