1943 Onward: US Naval Power

Review by Bill Doughty––

When a veteran British historian and a gifted artist team up for a big book, the result is a work of art and a great early holiday gift for Navy readers: “Victory at Sea: Naval Power and the Transformation of the Global Order in World War II” (Yale University Press, 2022) by Paul Kennedy with paintings by Ian Marshall.

Paul Kennedy

Kennedy’s theses: (1) 1943 was the pivotal year for victory for the Allies, and (2) World War II accounts for America’s rise as a consummate and exceptional world power, “an extraordinary shift in Great Power history.” Kennedy makes the point in three data-driven appendices, a ream of research notes, a preface overview, and more than a dozen charts, maps, and tables.

If that sounds boring, just turn to the book’s compelling narrative and gorgeous art.

You’ll find a rich sweep of naval history leading up to and during the Second World War –– in both the Atlantic and Pacific Ocean areas of operation and in the Mediterranean Sea. Ian Marshall’s sketchy watercolors in soft pastels convey human commitment and achievement even in the fog and gloom of war.

Regarding Kennedy’s thesis about 1943:

“At the onset of 1943 the US Navy was down to a single carrier fleet in the Pacific War, and German U-boats were poised to launch their largest-ever offensive against the critical Atlantic convoy trade. Changes had to come if the Allies were to prevail.

“The changes came in 1943. World War II defies easy summary, but the key to an eventual Allied victory, essentially, was to get the increasingly vast numbers of American and British Empire fighting men and munitions across two oceans so that the combined armies (along with the Russians) could crush Italy, Germany, and Japan. This involved two elements, sea power and a productivity revolution. In the sea-power story, the struggle for control of the North Atlantic was won by the defending forces, quite dramatically, in May and June of that year, with severe U-boat losses. North Africa was consolidated, Malta relieved, and Italy defeated. Things moved more slowly in the Pacific fighting, but victories in the Gilbert, the Solomons, and northern New Guinea confirmed an American advance that would not be thrown back. Yet the year 1943 meant more than just another saga of hard-fought convoy battles, amphibious landings in the Mediterranean and Pacific, and the sinking of a German battle cruiser off Norway. It was the year in which the sheer productive muscle of the United States, which had existed in latent form in so many measures before that time, at last realized itself in all of the arenas of the world war … In place of the dearth of fleet carriers, new powerful ones began to stream across the Pacific from June onward. Over the Atlantic, high above the now-secured convoys of supply ships and troopships, flew thousands of US aircraft on their way to their new bomber and fighter bases in southern England. Landing craft and Liberty ships poured out of American shipyards. Even the Royal Navy’s hard-fought defeat of the U-boats in 1943 could not have been imagined without the productive American force behind the ultra-long-range B-24 patrol planes, the escort carriers, the mass-produced radar sets, the homing torpedoes, and Lend-Lease stock for Canada’s and Britain’s production of escort vessels. By the year following, this flow of munitions to the fronts had become a flood, producing in turn the victories of Leyte Gulf and Normandy. And behind all this military hardware and productivity was a financial, tax-raising strength bigger than anything known to history. Allied naval predominance was assured because of a surge in the American economy that dwarfed that of all its rivals. It was not just a story of more and more warships; it was also a tale of a new international order emerging. Victory at Sea was affirmed, with the clear winner of the war being the United States of America.”

Henry Kaiser's Star of Oregon was the first of many Liberty ships built in U.S. shipyards.

America’s massive production output came about through progressive New Deal initiatives under President Franklin D. Roosevelt in a country of immigrants, largely from Europe, hungry to work. Women and African Americans, previously disenfranchised, came into the workforce.

An industrialist who harnessed the moment and accelerated production in the United States was Henry Kaiser, a friend of FDR, who built shipyards and who embraced innovation and technology. [See our post last year about the amazing HJK, whose company helped build the Bay Bridge, Hoover Dam, Western highways, and 1,552 Liberty ships.]

Kaiser’s innovations dovetailed nicely with what Kennedy calls, “the New American Navy,” one that could put multiple fast-carrier task forces to sea. The Navy invested in more than two dozen light fleet carriers (CVLs) and built or converted 122 escort carriers (CVEs).

“Already the creative genius of Henry Kaiser, soon to become famous chiefly for his Liberty ships, had obtained from his friend Roosevelt permission to build an entirely new class, the Casablanca-class, from the bottom up. They would draw 11,000 tons, steam at 20 knots, and carry 28 planes, a 5-inch gun, and smaller armaments, and they would operate as a jack-of-all-trades covering every new amphibious operations s well as the escort duties mentioned above. Kaiser’s scheme was symptomatic of the entire story of American wartime expansion.”

While American exceptionalism is heralded in the realm of production, it is the human dimension that deserves special mention. (“Men,” cited below, while accurate in WWII, is now “men and women” in today’s Navy. And women played a pivotal role in the Homefront war effort.)

“The victor’s ships, planes, and guns need courageous men to steer them, insightful men to organize them, and clever men to give them superior battlefield performance. When the tides of war in the great Atlantic fight turned against the U-boats, it was because hundreds and hundreds of little ships, sloops, frigates, ore carriers, tankers, and cargo vessels, manned by tens of thousands of very brave crewmen (Americans, Britons, Norwegians, and Greeks), steamed back and forth from New York to Liverpool. If the vital strategic position of Malta held out, it was because the eventual winners, the Allies, were willing to take repeated heavy losses to both convoys and escorts and the home garrison. If victory in the great four-part Battle of Leyte Gulf went to the side with the most battalions (to employ Stalin’s phrase), it was because American submarine commanders were extraordinarily skillful, American carrier air forces extremely professional and American gunners remarkably well-trained…”

In fact, Kennedy credits two fellow historians for highlighting the human factor in their watershed works. “It is not surprising that when those two mature official historians of the American and British naval effort, Samuel Morison and Stephen Roskill, came to write the final pages of their respective multivolume works, they preferred to focus on human agents rather than on broad underlying forces.”

Kennedy does the same in the penultimate paragraph of this gorgeous book, aesthetically designed and printed on high quality glossy paper.

This is actually two books in one.

Kennedy had told his friend Ian Marshall he would write a foreword and some text for Marshall’s planned book of original paintings, Fighting Warships of the Second World War. But in the wake of Marshall's death, the book project expanded.

Kennedy reflects on his late friend: “I miss his gentle manners, his great professionalism, and his remarkable erudition in the realms of maritime history and warship design. Each painting is not only a fine work of art but also an understated display of Ian’s impressive topographical and historical knowledge.”

Marshall was a fellow and past president of the American Society of Marine Artists. Kennedy is the New York Times best-selling author of “The Rise and Fall of the Great Powers.”

This book is recommended by Admiral James Stavridis (U.S. Navy, ret.), who blurbed, “This extraordinary work of both global history and nautical art brings two brilliant minds together in Paul Kennedy’s luminous prose and Ian Marshall’s lovely paintings.”

(Top photo: Battleships USS Oklahoma and USS Nevada at Charlestown Navy Yard, Boston, 1935. Detail from a painting by Ian Marshall. Oklahoma was damaged beyond repair at Pearl Harbor; Nevada survived and served throughout the war (including D-Day and Okinawa operations). Ian Marshall via Yale University Press.)

Washington’s Navy, Privateering & ’Rebels at Sea’

Review by Bill Doughty––

George Washington wasn’t just “father of our country.” He was also father of our Navy, according to “Rebels at Sea: Privateering in the American Revolution” by Eric Jay Dolin (W.W. Norton, 2022).

Washington first dismissed the idea of deploying a seagoing force, especially to face the great Royal Navy. But during a stalemate on land and after listening to advice from his officers, he saw a need for American vessels to capture munitions and other supplies from British ships. So Washington armed and commissioned the schooner Hannah and soon followed up with orders for two more vessels. His ships were not privately operated since sailors were paid from his army’s funds.

While there was a question whether he had authority from Congress, nevertheless Washington moved forward, according to Dolin. “On September 7 (1775), the Hannah set sail. Washington had launched his own navy.” His minuscule naval force joined hundreds of “privateers” operating outside of government control along the Atlantic Coast and beyond.

Early in “Rebels at Sea,” Dolin tells the story of the Machias Affair in Maine/Massachusetts, in which colonists clashed with British autocracy over trade, authoritarian rule, and even voting rights!

The Machias Affair, called by James Fenimore Cooper the “Lexington of the Sea,” was “a clarion signal that Massachusetts men and, more broadly, Americans were ready and able to fight at sea.”

“Privateers were armed vessels owned and outfitted by private individuals who had government permission to capture enemy ships in times of war. That permission came in the form of a letter of marque, a formal legal document issued by the government that gave the bearer the right to seize vessels belonging to belligerent nations and to claim those vessels and their cargoes, or prizes, as spoils of war. The proceeds from the auction of these prizes were in turn split between the men who crewed the privateers and the owners of the ship. Typically, governments used privateers to amplify their power on the seas, most notably when their navies were not large enough to effectively wage war. More specifically, by attacking the enemy’s maritime commerce and, when possible, its naval forces, privateers could inflict significant economic and military pain at no expense to the government that commissioned them. Privateers were like a cost-free navy. One late nineteenth-century historian dubbed them ‘the militia of the sea.’”

There’s no question the maritime militia and other sea fighters made a difference.

“By early 1776, the upstart Americans had made considerable progress in taking the fight to sea. Between state navies, Washington’s navy, privateers from the individual colonies, and the nascent Continental navy, the colonies were demonstrating their maritime creativity and potency. But one major feature of their maritime strategy was conspicuous in its absence: privateers commissioned by Congress.”

And as Britain cracked down further on the Colonies, it only made the Americans’ resolve stronger.

The British Parliament drove the Colonies to codifying privateering when Britain passed the Prohibitory Act in February 1776. Also known as the Act of Independency, Parliament’s act cut off trade, permitted British ships to seize colonial vessels, and allowed American sailors to be impressed –– kidnapped, conscripted, and forced into serving in the Royal Navy.

Within weeks, Congress was ready to order authorization and letters of marque to privateers. It did so April 3, 1776. Privateering, therefore, pushed the Colonies more in the direction of independency. “It was another tear in the gossamer fabric holding the colonies and Britain together,” Dolin writes.

“Congress had no alternative but to provide for the defense and security by authorizing the colonies to fit out privateers to cruise against the enemy,” Dolin writes. He provides a number of surprising anecdotes about people, unknown and well-known, who were involved in privateering.

We learn about black patriot James Forten, whose great-grandfather was brought to the Colonies as a slave and whose grandfather obtained freedom. Forten was one of only a few black families in Philadelphia, where some historians argue the U.S. Navy was born. (A drive to the Philadelphia airport today and a glance toward the East shows the evidence of Philadelphia as a big Navy port.)

Forten served aboard the 450-ton Pennsylvania privateer Royal Louis captained by Stephen Decatur Sr., father of Steven Decatur Jr., hero in the first Barbary War at the turn of the century and later in the War of 1812. Forten went on to become a successful business leader in Philadelphia as the city’s leading sailmaker, according to Dolin.

This book is packed with photos, vignettes, and colorful characters. Thomas Paine, author of the earthshaking “Common Sense,” had a near-death brush with privateering. For a short time Paine was a crew member of the Terrible, a British privateer captained by William Death. Great names.

Check out these names of the privateer ships mentioned in this book: Rattlesnake, Hibernia, Tyrannicide, Black Sloven, Active, Thorn, Revenge, Enterprize, Eaglet, Impromptu, and Grand Turk; sweet names like Betsey, Nancy, Diana, Patty, and Sally, and inspiring names like General Washington, Marquis de Lafayettes, Liberty, Union, Hope, Yankee Hero, Retaliation, and Independence.

Hundreds of privateers and their captains and crews risked a great deal to fight for liberty. “When the United States was only a tenuous idea, they stepped forward and risked their lives to help make it a reality,” Dolin says.

Portrait of John Barry by Gilbert Stuart, circa 1801. (White House, NHHC)

“For many young men, joining a privateer represented an opportunity for adventure and fortune and also, perhaps, a chance to escape stultifying manual labor.” Privateering proved a training ground for the new United States Navy. Consider the names of some crew members, backers, and captains of privateers: John Barry, Thomas Truxton, Silas Talbot, Henry Knox, David Porter (father of Commodore David Porter, of the War of 1812, and grandfather of Adm. David Dixon Porter, hero of the Civil War.)

In 1781, the Privateer Pilgrim captured the Duke of Gloucester with an impressive science library aboard. The great mathematician Nathaniel Bowditch then gained access to the resources to write “The New American Practical Navigator” (1802), known to sailors as “the Bowditch,” a landmark work explaining accurate nautical and navigational information for mariners.

Some powerful leaders backed the concept of privateers. They included John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin (for a time), and, notoriously Benedict Arnold, who helped the British spearhead “the deadliest raid of all,” targeting American patriots at New London.

Some privateers became intertwined with the slave trade. Dolin calls it the “greatest blemish” of privateering.

HMS Jersey, used as a prison ship during the Revolutionary War. Painting by R.B. Skerrett from drawing by one of the prisoners held in captivity there. (NHHC)

Americans captured by the British for privateering usually found themselves in fetid and septic prison ships. Dolin calls the use of the floating prisons, especially the Jersey, “one of the most horrific and shameful chapters in the history of the Revolution.” Dolin's account of the foul and disgusting depravity in the prison ships rivals that of many historians’ descriptions of POW camps. Jersey, nicknamed “Hell Afloat,” held up to 1,200 prisoners, many of whom were mariners who'd served aboard privateers.

Eric Jay Dolin

Privateering, Dolin says, was not the same as piracy since it was federally endorsed. Nevertheless, opposition to the practice grew. “Part of the reason privateering was scorned was that many believed the practice undermined the republican ideals of the Revolution, which called for the sacrifice of private interests in the pursuit of liberty.”

Benjamin Franklin, who supported privateering early on, did an about-face after he saw rampant greed and lawlessness. Another strong opponent was William Whipple Jr., a “fervent patriot devote to the republican ideals of the Revolution, signer of the Declaration, and hero of the Battle of Saratoga.”

Whipple called privateering “the most baneful to society of any that ever a civilized people were engaged in.” Dolin writes about Whipple: “His main concern was that privateers were draining the Continental Navy of men, because so many chose privateering over naval service for financial reasons.”

Navy hero John Paul Jones agreed.

There was much less effectiveness in individual states’ navies or privateers compared with he power of a United naval force. Resources, including sailors, needed to be directed to the Continental Navy, according to Jones, Whipple, and others; the fledgling American navy struggled to survive, some frigates never making it to sea.

Dolin writes: “The American Revolution was the Navy’s first hour, but not its finest.”

“The Continental navy’s record in battle is not an enviable one. Twenty-eight vessels were captured or destroyed, and many others were out at sea, sold, returned to France, or burned to keep them from being taken but he enemy (as in the Penobscot Expedition). Only seven of the original thirteen frigates authorized by Congress actually made it to sea, and one of those survived long enough to witness the victory at Yorktown in 1781, a year in which the entire naval fleet was comprised of only nine vessels, with a total of 164 cannons. The Navy’s only truly large ship, the 74-gun America, took six years to build, and by the time it was ready to sail, in November 1782, the war was essentially over. Instead of fighting for the American cause, America was given to the French as gift. At war’s end just a few navy ships were left. These were sold, and the navy disbanded.”

Carving of Franklin at U.S. Naval Academy, circa early 1900s. (NHHC)

The (non-Navy) privateers, as the “militia of the sea,” were similar to the colonial concept of a non-Army armed citizenry: “A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State…” per the Second Amendment. Whipple, Jones, and Franklin saw privateering as more harmful that good. Franklin called it an “abomination.”

Eventually, the new nation would evolve to see the need for unity in the maritime domain. This was especially true as platforms, armaments, logistics, strategies, training, and capabilities modernized.

But in the War of 1812 the Navy was still “puny,” in Dolin’s words. “Just a handful of frigates, sloops, and gunboats.”

So President Jefferson returned to privateering.

“Despite Jefferson’s dream of a privately waged war on the seas,” Dolin writes, “the U.S. Navy, small though it was, had some notable and heroic engagements that burnished its reputation, contributed much to America’s success, and won the respect of the British.”

Privateers proved successful again in those days of wooden boats, but their days were numbered.

Model of privateer Rattlesnake.Scale: 3/16”=1’, built by Raymond W. Stone of the Washington Ship Model Society. (NHHC)

A generation later, the concept of privateering became part of a seditious conspiracy as the Confederacy embraced the strategy. The Confederates’ attempts at privateering were ill-fated, however, as the United States Navy and Union itself in Washington, D.C., grew stronger. Washington's navy became Washington's Navy.

Individual states’ navies were not as strong as the centralized U.S. Navy. Dolin closes his book with this bottom line: “America now has the most powerful navy in the world.”

This review barely scrapes the surface of a book that puts the reader on blood-stained wooden decks, running with the wind, cutlass in hand. Accessible history. Highly recommended.

“Rebels at Sea” dedication: “To librarians everywhere who, through hard work and dedication, support writers, researchers, learners, and book lovers alike. This writer couldn’t have done it without you.”

Adm. James Stavridis (ret.) offers wholehearted endorsement: “Yet another maritime masterpiece by one of the top historians of the oceans! Rebels at Sea is a brilliant exposition of a little-understood and under-appreciated part of the American Revolution underway. Like his earlier works, it is full of fresh thinking and sharply observed anecdotes that both inform and delight. Eric Jay Dolin's books deserve a prominent place on every sailor's bookshelf.” Stavridis is author of "The Sailor's Bookshelf: Fifty Books to Know the Sea," reviewed earlier this year on Navy Reads.

Stavridis’s 50: ‘The Sailor’s Bookshelf’

Review by Bill Doughty––

The FedEx van pulled up in front of my home as I backed into my driveway. It’s a special feeling when a wished-for book arrives. I carefully sliced through the padded mailer and there it was: “The Sailor’s Bookshelf: Fifty Books to Know the Sea” by Admiral James Stavridis, arriving just days before Pearl Harbor Remembrance Day. This year’s commemoration comes on the 80th anniversary of the attack on Oahu of Dec. 7, 1941.

Stavridis gives a very personal reflection of some of the favorite books on his bookshelf, and some relate to Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, and the Pacific, which he calls “the mother of all oceans.” Others center on Europe and his favorite ocean, the Atlantic. Still others offer a diverse window into the art of reading, the lure of history –– and the terrible yet tempting beauty of the sea.

Some of the books in his collection go back to Stavridis's childhood. Many were influential in his choosing to apply to the U.S. Naval Academy or were part of his life throughout his distinguished careers both in and after the Navy.

Retired Adm. James Stavridis, former supreme allied commander, Europe, gives the keynote speech during the Armed Forces Communication and Electronics Association-U.S. Naval Institute (AFCEA/USNI) West 2016 conference. (MC2 Liam Kennedy)

His midshipman cruise in 1972 was to Pearl Harbor.

So was his first cruise as an ensign and anti-submarine warfare officer aboard USS Hewitt (DD-996), in which Stavridis sailed first to Hawaii and then westward across the Pacific in some of the same waters once explored by Capt. James Cook. 

Cook’s voyages come to life in one of Stavridis’s recommendations, “Blue Latitudes: Boldly Going Where Captain Cook Has Gone Before.” The book follows Cook’s “three epic cruises in the mid-1700s” when only about a third of the world globe was known and mapped for navigation.

The flag flies at half mast while Marines of 3rd Marine Regiment "man the rails" of the USS Arizona Memorial in 2011. (Maj. Alan Crouch)

In the Explorers section of his book, Stavridis also features James P. Delgado’s “Across the Top of the World: The Quest for the Northwest Passage.” Delgado is a maritime archeologist and veteran diver who has explored hundreds of shipwrecks, including USS Arizona (BB-39) and USS Nevada (BB-36), both hit in the attack on Pearl Harbor. Delgado goes far, far north to present a history and heritage of exploration of the Arctic region. Sir John Franklin’s perilous journey in 1845 is at the heart of the story.

Rear Adm. Fiske (NHHC)

Another intrepid explorer of a sort is a “consummate seaman” and commander who invented technology in the late 1800s and turn of the century to help sailors on steam vessels and promote sea control and sea power. Admiral Bradley A. Fiske is author of “The Navy as a Fighting Machine.” Like Alfred Thayer Mahan, who is also featured in this collection, Fiske lobbied for and helped establish the position of Chief of Naval Operations. 

He was a champion for readiness as “a persuasive and thoughtful operational maritime thinker and writer.”

Exactly one hundred years ago, Fiske was president of USNI.

Stavridis writes:

“He was also a prescient strategic analyst. He served as president of the U.S. Naval Institute, the intellectual heart of the naval profession, for eleven years, 1912-1923, thinking, writing, and publishing constantly. As late as 1924 he was commenting on international affairs, correctly predicting the inevitability of a U.S.-Japanese war. He lived to see that dire proclamation come to pass with the 1941 attack on Pearl Harbor in his eighty-seventh year but sadly not quite long enough to see the pivotal battle of Midway in the early summer of 1942 turn the tide in the Pacific.”

Speaking of heroes and Pearl Harbor, Stavridis features a book in the “Oceans” section co-authored by Adm. Chester W. Nimitz, along with Professor E.B. Potter, titled “Sea Power: A Naval History.” Nimitz, of course, commanded the Pacific Fleet from Pearl Harbor and led the effort to defeat Imperial Japan in less than four years. In this classic 932-page book, first published in 1960, Potter and Nimitz provide a history of the American and world navies and how naval warfare has evolved to become a fundamental part of national power.

 

Stavridis, who was a student of Potter’s at the Naval Academy, wrote his own book with the same name but “different in tone and style” and in homage to his former professor. Adm. Stavridis’s “Sea Power: The History and Geopolitics of the World’s Oceans” is one of many of his works I’ve featured on Navy Reads over the past decade. 

Stavridis acknowledges he could have chosen to showcase many other books about the War in the Pacific in addition to the Potter-Nimitz “Sea Power.” He considered Samuel Eliot Morison’s multi-volume “History of Naval Operations in World War II” and Craig L. Symonds’s single-volume “World War II at Sea: A Global History."

Lt. Cmdr. Ernest E. Evans, at commissioning ceremonies of USS Johnston (DD-557), Seattle, WA, 27 October 1943. He was Johnston's commanding officer from then until she was sunk in the Battle off Samar, 25 October 1944, and was lost with the ship. (U.S. Naval History and Heritage Command)

The “cornerstone book about the naval war in the Pacific during World War II” he chooses, however, is the captivating “Sea of Thunder: Four Commanders and the Last Great Naval Campaign, 1941-1945.” The book centers on the Battle of Leyte Gulf in October 1944 and, as the subtitle says, four commanders:

“Admiral William ‘Bull’ Halsey, a swaggering (and deeply racist) commander of the American fleet for much of the combat; the elegant Japanese admiral Takeo Kurita, a battleship force commander who launched a near-suicidal attack on the American forces poised to retake the Philippine Islands; another Japanese admiral, Matome Ugaki, who saw himself as the purest of samurai and led the kamikaze forces at the end of the war; and –– the most appealing of the four –– the relatively junior Navy commander Ernest Evans, captain of USS Johnston (DD-557), a small destroyer that undertook a deeply heroic attack on a far larger Japanese force … In the course of telling the story of the battle, Thomas takes the reader through the vast U.S. maritime strategy to reconquer to Pacific Ocean and its hundreds of atolls, islands, barrier reefs, and littoral nations after the Japanese offensive wave of conquest had swept over much of it in the early days of the war” [in the aftermath of Pearl Harbor]

Pearl Harbor is just one of the many themes touched on in this wonderful collection that also includes diverse works by Rachel L. Carson, Simon Winchester, Thomas J. Cutler, Caroline Alexander, Nathan Philbrick, Herman Wouk, Patrick O’Brian, Sebastian Junger, and Joan Druett.

Throughout the collection, Stavridis shares personal joys and discoveries through reading. He expresses his deep love for the sea, starting in childhood. “What fascinated me then, and still does so many decades later, was the unpredictability of the ocean. It could change color, smell, wave pattern, surface condition, and a dozen other variables in an hour. It was a chameleon…”

The admiral’s curiosity also drives unpredictability in his selection of books in this collection, which features a book of poetry (“Moods of the Sea: Masterworks of Sea Poetry” by George C. Solley and Eric Steinbaugh), a book about art (“Turner & the Sea” by Christine Riding and Richard Johns, about artist J. M. W. Turner, who painted "The Battle of Trafalgar" and "The Fighting termeraire tugged to her last Berth to be broken up," pictured above), and a book of magical fiction (“Life of Pi” by Yann Martel), requiring the reader to suspend the constraints of science.

“I have always loved magical realism in the world of literature. This is a strain of fiction writing in which things exist in a novel or short story (or even a poem) that cannot quite be squared with the real world. The most famous writer of magical realism, who is especially prominent in the literature of Latin America, is the Nobel Prize-winner Gabriel García Márquez. His extraordinary novel “One Hundred Years of Solitude” is widely regarded as the classic example of magical realism. Some other authors who deal in this style of writing include Toni Morrison (“Beloved”), Salman Rushdie (“Midnight’s Children”), Haruki Murakami (“IQ84”), Günter Grass (“The Tin Drum”), and Neil Gaiman (“The Ocean at the End of the Lane”). In such novels there are often ghostly visitations, dreamlike sequences, mythological gods, talking animals, imagined events, and unreliable narrators.”

Stavridis is a most-reliable narrator and navigator as he takes us on his voyage to “The Sailor’s Bookshelf” and a journey of self discovery. “I’ve always believed that reading allows an individual to essentially expand their life every time they open a book,” he writes in the book’s preface.

U.S. Navy Airman Benjamin Adams, from Panama City, Fla., reads a book on the fantail of the aircraft carrier USS Nimitz (CVN 68), July 5, 2017, in the South China Sea. Nimitz was on deployment in the U.S. 7th Fleet area of operations. The U.S. Navy has patrolled the Indo-Asia Pacific routinely for more than 70 years promoting regional peace and security. (MC3 Ian Kinkead)

While he provides ample inclusion of fiction titles, most of the selections in “The Sailor’s Bookshelf” are nonfiction and history. Based on his recommendation, I added this title to my to-read list: “Empires of the Sea: The Siege of Malta, the Battle of Lepanto, and the Contest for the Center of the World,” a book about the Battle of Lepanto, and a book that had special meaning to Stavridis when he was the Supreme Allied Commander of NATO.

“For a sailor to read ‘Empires of the Sea’ is to almost feel the ships under way and hear the sails snapping in the breeze. You can smell the gunpowder and hear the crack of cannons over the waves and wind. Crowley focuses on the geopolitics as backdrop, but the great strength of this book is a realistic focus on war at sea. It includes descriptions of the sea battles and sieges against the islands of Cyprus and Malta as well as the more or less constant activities of pirates. The centerpiece, of course, is Lepanto, and there is not a better description written. The entire book is truly an engrossing read, and one that keeps the reader’s sensibility under way with every page.”

The subtitle of “The Sailor’s Bookshelf” says “50 books,” but the author can’t help himself. Readers will find hundreds of titles of great books tucked inside “bonus” suggestions, lists, and notes as well as the fifty essays themselves.

                                                                                                                                         (PO2 Patrick Kelly)

Among the recommended reads are titles of books that were read by Pearl Harbor Survivors and other World War II veterans. I’ve had the honor to meet and interview many Pearl Harbor Survivors, most of whom are gone. Before and after and sometimes even during the war they read Jules Verne, Herman Melville, and Ernest Hemingway, all featured in this collection. Stavridis’s “The Sailor’s Bookshelf” is a labor of love.

It is dedicated “To my parents who taught me to love reading, To my teachers who taught me to love writing, To my shipmates who taught me to love the sea, and To my wife and daughters who taught me to love life.”

I will revisit this collection for a future Navy Reads “Bookshelf Part II.”

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RIP Senator Robert J. Dole

American statesman Sen. Bob Dole of Kansas died yesterday, Dec. 5, 2021, after a long bout with lung cancer. Like another of his colleagues, late Sen. Daniel K. Inouye of Hawaii, Dole wanted to become a doctor prior to the attack on Oahu and the start of American involvement in World War II. And like Inouye, Dole joined the Army shortly after Pearl Harbor and was severely, nearly mortally, wounded but recovered and dedicated his life to continued public service.

Senator Bob Dole and President Gerald Ford, Oval Office, 1976. (Bob and Elizabeth Dole Archives, KU)

While in Congress, Dole helped bring about the Civil Rights Act, the Voting Rights Act, and the Americans with Disabilities Act. He helped save Social Security when it came under threat in 1983, and he was a lifelong strong supporter of national defense.

Dole, known for his dry-wit sense of humor, support for the Constitution, and general grace in defeat, was vice presidential running mate to Navy/WWII Veteran President Gerald Ford in the 1976 U.S. campaign; Dole became the Republican nominee for president in 1996. President Bill Clinton presented Dole with the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 1997 (pictured below).

Flags are flying at half-staff to honor both Dole and Pearl Harbor Remembrance Day on the 80th anniversary of the attack.

‘Opening the Great Depths’ for What?

Review by Bill Doughty

At the end of John Piña Craven’s masterful memoir, “The Silent War,” Craven praises the team of military and civilian warriors who supported the silent service and helped win the Cold War: “They taught us that eternal vigilance is not enough. They taught us that society must organize for the deterrence of nuclear war and the preservation of world peace. These are still missions of the people of the world’s free democracies, and we must again organize a band of individuals whose lives are dedicated to these missions.”

I reached for Craven’s book, subtitled “The Cold War Battle Beneath the Sea,” after reading a new comprehensive history of deep-sea exploration: “Opening the Great Depths: The Bathyscaph Trieste and Pioneers of Undersea Exploration” by Norman Polmar and Lee J. Mathers (Naval Institute Press, 2021).

Polmar and Mathers credit Craven’s innovative role in leading key Cold War tactics including creating systems to “rescue trapped crewmen in sunken submarines down to crush depth, allow divers to work at 600 feet, and locate and recover small objects down to 20,000 feet.” The Navy deployed Craven’s brainstorming ideas in classified intelligence missions, according to the authors. In 1964 “Craven had succinctly defined a program that the Navy would pursue until the end of the Cold War and beyond.”

The first practicable idea for a vessel capable of reaching the bottom of the ocean came from an eccentric European scientist who served as a balloonist in the Swiss Army in the First World War. Auguste Piccard was at the center of the “excitement and turmoil that physics was experiencing” one hundred years ago. Piccard “rubbed elbows with” Albert Einstein, Max Born, and Marie Curie, among other revolutionary scientists and explorers.

“Opening the Great Depths” opens with a get-together in New York hosted by Amelia Earhart, where Piccard meets fellow adventurer Charles Lindbergh. Piccard envisioned a metal “balloon” that could sink to the bottom of the ocean and then –– with a system of lead pellets and petroleum as ballast –– be able to float back to the surface.

Auguste Piccard’s development of the first bathyscaphe, spelled “bathyscaph” by Polmar and Mathers (who also present measurements the English rather than metric system), is a story of international cooperation. The first working bathyscaphe was funded by King Leopold of Belgium. Development was led by scientists in Switzerland and supported by the French Navy. It was built in Italy and tested in Portuguese territorial waters and near the Horn of Africa.

Lieutenant Larry Shumaker, Assistant Officer in Charge; Lieutenant Donald Walsh, Officer in Charge; Dr. Andreas B. Rechnitzer, Scientist in Charge; Jacques Piccard, Co-Designer and Technical Advisor of Bathyscaphe Trieste, Nov. 16, 1959.

Jacques Piccard, Auguste’s son, took over for his father and accelerated development of Trieste, named for the town in Italy where it was built. The younger Piccard, who stood 6’5” according to John Craven, reached out to coordinate directly with the United States Navy in further development of the new technology. The Navy acquired Trieste in the mid 1950s through the new Office of Naval Research.

ONR was created after the end of World War II and the beginning of the Cold War. With a bathyscaphe, the “Navy would gain the capability to operate in the deepest ocean depths.” Exploration of the ocean’s depths would be spurred by the Soviet Union’s advances in space, leading to the launch of Sputnik in 1957.

In late 1958, a young submarine officer who saw himself stuck behind a desk in an administrative billet at Submarine Flotilla 1, volunteered to oversea, operate, and maintain Trieste. Lt. Don Walsh conducted the first dives near San Diego. Trieste was “re-welded to Navy standards” and readied for deep dives off Guam. Other key members of the early dives were Dr. Andy Rechnitzer, Navy Lt. Lawrence Shumaker, Giuseppe Buono, and Jacques Piccard.

Polmar and Mathers provide a brief history of discovery of the deepest trenches in the ocean. Their book is comprehensive and detailed, often reading like a logbook filled with names of personnel, places, support ships, and missions. The authors describe “white” and “black” operations, focused on finding either U.S. or Soviet debris or equipment on the ocean bottom.

Walsh and Piccard aboard Trieste

The Navy first deployed the Trieste, in part, to search for life at the deepest part of the ocean for a specific purpose: “Was there a depth below which complex life could not survive? The answer to that question might determine whether the deep-ocean trenches would be used for the long-term disposal of radioactive and other hazardous waste material.”

In the best chapter in the book, Polmar and Mathers describe the tension as Piccard and Walsh took a long “elevator ride” through the thermocline, passing two layers of phosphorescent plankton, and heading into the hadal depths for the first time. The bathyscaphe suffered small leaks and a cracked entry tube window. The temperature inside the bathyscaphe was 45 degrees Fahrenheit. Piccard and Walsh ate chocolate bars and peered out as best as they could, unsure when the bottom would appear. After more than four and half hours they reached the “six-three hundred fathoms” –– 37,800 feet, significantly deeper than anticipated.

Their discovery of “a shrimp and a fleet of madusae proved that the ocean’s deepest depths contain complex life forms.” Piccard thought he saw a "sole" on the bottom, but that sighting was unlikely a fish.

The team received a heroes’ welcome  in Guam, Hawaii, and Washington D.C. President Eisenhower presented Piccard, Walsh, Rechnitzer and Shumaker with awards in the presence of Chief of Naval Operations Adm. Arleigh Burke. Lt. Walsh received the Legion of Merit. He would go on to have a distinguished naval career, retiring as a Navy captain. Jacques Piccard, a non-citizen, was awarded the Navy’s Distinguished Public Service Award.

“Piccard was especially proud of a White House letter dated 9 February 1960 that stated in part, ‘As a citizen of Switzerland, a country admired by all the free world for its love of freedom and independence, you have the gratitude of all the people of the United States for helping to further open the doors of this important scientific field. Sincerely, Dwight D. Eisenhower.”

As the general who led the liberation of Europe from Nazi fascism in WWII, Eisenhower was revered in the free world. America’s commitment to international cooperation –– along with a “major influx of American dollars through the U.S. government’s Marshall Plan” –– led directly and indirectly to the development of shipyards, refineries, and research that helped build the Trieste bathyscaphe.

President Eisenhower dines in the crew's mess aboard USS Seawolf (SSN-575) off Newport, Rhode Island, Sept. 26, 1957. With him are Chief Hospital Corpsman Milton W. Tucker; Press Secretary James Hagerty (partially visible); and Seaman Apprentice W.J. Dooling, the youngest man in Seawolf's crew. (NHHC)

Meantime, the Cold War and space race were heating up at the end of the 1950s and through the 1960s, where relations with the Soviet Union were about competition, not cooperation.

The Navy saw that “advancing undersea technology was vital to the security of the United States,” according to Polmar and Mathers. “Classified operations for the Trieste were suggested in the summer of 1961.” The Navy, Air Force, and CIA reportedly considered using Trieste to locate and retrieve debris from the ocean floor. 

Trieste was deployed for the search of the USS Thresher (SSN-593), a nuclear-powered submarine lost 220 miles east of Boston on Apr. 10, 1963. The Navy was concerned about the sub’s nuclear reactor “potentially contaminating waters close to the U.S. eastern seaboard,” according to the authors. “And, the Navy had to examine the wreckage in an effort to determine the cause of her loss.”

"Overhaul and Refiitting Bathyscaphe Trieste," painting, watercolor on paper, Salvatore Indiviglia, 1961. (NHHC)

Unfortunately, the Trieste itself was subject to numerous casualties and limitations over the years, including fires, leaks, corrosion, mechanical failures, insufficient battery power, and propulsion motor issues –– a “maintenance nightmare.” Mare Island Naval Shipyard architects, under the supervision of chief design engineer Herbert L. Graybeal, designed a more advanced float that was stronger and safer. The Trieste II was born. Eventually three versions of Trieste would serve, but nomenclature was (perhaps deliberately) confusing for what would be Trieste, Trieste II, Trieste III, and/or DSV-1. For simplicity, I’ll refer to all versions of the Trieste bathyscaphe throughout this review as “Trieste.”

As the Cold War heated up, on May 28, 1964, Secretary of the Navy Paul H. Nitze assigned Trieste and the Deep Submergence Program to the Special Projects Office. The “Deep Submergence Systems Project” became a separate agency under the direction of chief scientist Dr. John Piña Craven. (Craven is a descendant of a long line of Navy officers; he served as an enlisted battleship sailor in World War II, and he earned his PhD with help from the G.I. Bill. Craven's Special Projects team developed the Polaris Fleet Ballistic Missile.)

Among other duties leading DSSP, Dr. Craven headed the recovery effort for a hydrogen bomb that had fallen near Palomares after a U.S. Air Force B-25G strategic bomber collided with a refueling tanker off Spain’s Mediterranean coast on January 17, 1966.

USS Scorpion (SSN-589) outside Claywall Harbor, Naples, Italy, 10 April 1968, one of the last known photos of Scorpion before the submarine was lost with all hands in May 1968 while returning to the U.S. from this Mediterranean deployment (NHHC).

Chapter 14 of “Opening the Great Depths” begins with this chilling line: “The year 1968 was a very bad year for submarines.” The authors refer to the losses of Israel’s diesel-electric submarine Dakar and France’s Minerve, both lost in the Mediterranean; the Soviet Golf II ballistic missile submarine K-129, lost in the Pacific; and the USS nuclear-propelled submarine Scorpion (SSN-589), lost in the North Atlantic. Even the U.S. Navy’s deep submersible Alvin, operated by Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution, was lost off the coast of Massachusetts in October, 1968. Response to any recovery operations was complicated by events on the world’s stage involving the Navy: the War in Vietnam and North Korea’s seizure of the U.S. intelligence ship USS Pueblo (AGER-2).

Polmar and Mathers present the history of Trieste’s role in the late 60s matter-of-factly with emphasis on personnel, dates, stats, and details. For a more personal account and for context, readers may want to do what I did and turn to Craven’s “The Silent War.” Craven writes about his lead role in the search for USS Scorpion and then the clandestine search for the missing Soviet submarine.

Always the innovative thinker, Craven proposed a way to go inside a sunk submarine. According to Polmar and Mathers, “Dr. Craven’s idea was that a vehicle small enough to enter one of the Scorpion’s 21-inch torpedo tube might help to determine if her loss had been caused by an internal or external torpedo explosion.” That idea resulted in “flying eyeballs” developed by the Naval Undersea Center in San Diego.

USS Ruchamkin (APD-89) in Hampton Roads, Virginia, with USS Mountrail (APA-213) beyond, Jan. 16, 1967. (NHHC)

Fifty-three years ago this month, above the site of the USS Scorpion, Craven and his team were aboard the support ship USS Ruchamkin (APD-89) when Neil Armstrong stepped onto the moon, July 20, 1968. They listened to Voice of America's report and thought of how their efforts at reaching the limits of inner space coincided with what was happening in outer space. After all, their team had reached the deepest part of the ocean less than ten years earlier.

“Dr. Craven recorded that when Armstrong placed his foot onto the Moon’s surface everyone in the wardroom thrust their hands above their head –– a sporting celebration for ‘score!’ An anonymous voice shouted out, ‘No, dammit, no! Two small steps!,’ referring to Trieste’s simultaneous work at a depth of 11,100 feet.”

On July 30, the team retrieved some debris from the Scorpion, including the ship’s sextant. Subsequent testing showed that the main battery had exploded; the submarine was not torpedoed.

Trieste and the Deep Submergence Program entered the 1970s in “neglect and decline,” a period when funding trickled away, support evaporated, and billets dwindled. The future would be with unmanned vessels. Nevertheless, Trieste and other submersibles were used in recovery operations off Hawaii as well as monitoring for radiation contamination from transponders near Midway Atoll.

The Navy’s eccentric and ubiquitous Adm. Hyman G. Rickover, who headed the Naval Reactors Directorate, had the bathyscaphe deployed in response to the Marine Protection, Research and Sanctuaries Act of 1972. The mission: investigate USS Seawolf’s nuclear reactor, which had been dumped in 1959 in 9,000 feet of ocean 120 nautical miles off the East Coast.

Among Trieste’s last missions was a series of dives in the eastern Pacific off Acapulco, southern Mexico at a depth of 16,141 feet. The expedition was part of an effort to investigate plate tectonic dynamics, according to Polmar and Mathers. “The effort sought to identify a permanent disposal site for high-grade nuclear waste –– radioactive waste with half-lives in hundreds or thousands of years.”

Acclaimed filmmaker James Cameron, left, and Dr. Don Walsh, a retired U.S. Navy captain, stand at the Trieste research bathyscaphe, which reached the deepest known part of the earth's oceans, the Challenger Deep in the Mariana Trench near Guam, on Jan. 23, 1960. Lt. Don Walsh and scientist Jacques Piccard were original pilots of Trieste, which is now at the National Museum of the United States Navy at the Washington Navy Yard. Cameron piloted his Deepsea Challenger nearly seven miles to Challenger Deep on March 26, 2012. Cameron donated Deepsea Challenger to the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute in Massachusetts. (MC1 Gina K Morrissette)

Polmar and Mathers wrap up their book with a "post script" mentioning the recent history of deep submersibles, where unmanned vessels have taken over but where people still have a role, including filmmaker James Cameron, astronaut Kathryn D. Sullivan, scientist Howard P. Talkington, and explorer Cmdr. Victor Vescovo, USNR (Ret.).

The authors provide an important history for readers interested in undersea research. This book includes a personal perspective in its foreword by “U.S. Submersible Pilot No. 1” Don Walsh, Captain, U.S. Navy (Ret.), PHD. It also has an introduction from author Polmar; glossaries of abbreviations and designations; comprehensive notes, a bibliography, and two indexes.

"Opening's" dedication, which is similar to the conclusion of Craven’s indispensable “The Silent War,” reads: “This book is dedicated to the adventurers and scientists, both military and civilian, who in frail craft challenge the Earth’s most inhospitable environment –– the deep ocean.”