USS Walke DD-723

SAILORS TAKE WARNING

by Emory Lee Crews

"Red sky at night; Sailors delight! Red sky in the morning; Sailors take warning!" The sky was crimson as the morning sun crested the horizon. The winds had increased to twelve knots and were causing four foot waves that slapped the side of the ship with an unwelcome wake-up call. Little did we know that the approaching storm would be the least of our troubles that day.

It was a morning like any other on board the United States Navy Destroyer Lofberg, DD-759. The war with North Korea was in its second year, and the Lofberg was steaming in the company of other naval vessels in the Sea of Japan off the Northern Coast of Korea. Her assignment, along with eleven other smaller ships, commonly referred to as "The Greyhound Navy," was to encircle the aircraft carriers, cruisers and battleships of Task Force Seventy-seven and provide protection from any would-be submarine attacks. The previous night's entry in the quartermaster's log book read "Watch uneventful."

The time was now 07:45 in the morning. The boatswain mate was piping the second call to chow for the ship's crew. I had already eaten breakfast and had taken my watch position on the bridge. My job as a radioman striker was to wear a telephone headset to provide the Officer of the Deck a communication link to the Combat Information Center (CIC) which was located on the deck below the bridge. I stood behind and to the right of the ship's helm. The Officer of the Deck would repeat the commands that were given by CIC through me to the helmsman or engine room as needed.

The entire task force, which consisted of fifteen ships, was making a starboard turn. I was relaying the turning maneuver from Combat to the Officer of the Deck: "Turn right to heading 280°; Execute; Turn right to heading 280°."

Suddenly, there was a shout from one of the men posted as a lookout on top of the pilot house where I was located, "Smoke on the horizon!" I ran out on the port side wing of the bridge and looked in the direction he was pointing. I saw what appeared to be an explosion near one of the other screen ships. It was the USS Walke DD723, and I could see that she was beginning to list heavily to port.

Only seconds passed when the task force common radio frequency crackled and an anguished voice that cried, "Oh my God, we've been mined! We've been mined!" Almost immediately another vessel reported: "Submarine sighted bearing 350°, two thousand yards."

The submarine had been laying mines in front of the task force and had raised her periscope to survey the damage. The USS Walke had hit a mine on her port quarter while the task force was making the starboard turn. She was only able to stay afloat because of her water-tight integrity. The mine had blown away part of the side of the ship near the engineering berthing area. Twenty-seven sailors were instantly killed or swept out to sea through the gaping hole.

The call, "General quarters, general quarters, all hands man your battle stations" echoed across the waves from every ship! The Task Force Commander aboard the USS Missouri dispatched one destroyer to assist the Walke and two other destroyers to seek and destroy the submarine. The rest of the task force was ordered to vacate the area at flank speed.

As the Lofberg departed the area with the other ships, I looked back and saw the explosions of the depth charges that were being dropped in the vicinity where the submarine had been reported.

After twenty-four hours at high speed, the ships of Task Force Seventy-seven slowed their engines and secured from general quarters. We then resumed our assigned duty of police action off the Korean coast and sailed into another red morning sky.