The Gun

[Brad Fox]

I served as a seaman in the U.S. Navy during the Vietnam war from January ’69 to November ‘70.  My first ship was the U.S.S. New Jersey BB-62.  I had been flown out to the U.S.S. Ranger CV-61 aircraft carrier from Subic Bay on a mail plane.  The Ranger was “on station” in the Tonkin Gulf and it was a way station of sorts to get personnel out to the ships in the fleet which were also serving in that area.  As our plane landed the rear ramp lowered and several Ranger aviation crew members peered in as they were anxious to get the mailbags and learn of news from loved ones back home.  With their protective goggles on and their yellow vests covering their torsos, they looked like giant honeybees eagerly entering their hive.  Each of us transfer sailors was led down to the mess decks where we could eat our evening meal and then given a slip of paper to help us find our way to our berthing compartment.  That slip was a very valuable piece of information, as the Ranger was a complex, giant ship which was very disorienting when we were below decks.  We managed to find our way to the compartment after our meal and I remember turning in early, as there really wasn’t much else we could do with the few personal effects that we had in our duffle bags.  Unfortunately, we were right beneath the catapult mechanism for the launching of jet fighters so we didn’t immediately nod off to sleep.  The next day we were “heloed” (carried by helicopter) out to the New Jersey, which being a gun ship, was closer to the coast than the Ranger.  The New Jersey was to be my home for the next 6 months.  As I was a “late” arrival to the ship's crew, someone slipped up and didn’t assign me to stand watches.  When my low-ranking buddies in the division found out about this, they strongly advised me to say nothing as this was the ultimate dream of every military man!  It worked for awhile until almost the entire crew was replaced upon our arrival back in the states in April of ’69. 

As a lowly seaman, I was assigned to the ship's 5^th division which was a combined deck force and gunnery group.  As a “deck ape” I had daily duties of maintaining the exterior surfaces of our particular section of the ship, which was starboard, aft.  It was a pretty mind-numbing job which consisted mainly of rinsing down the superstructure walls with sponges soaked in fresh water before breakfast each day.  Then it was chip, paint, sand, wrap, sew, tie fancy knots and maintain equipment.  Our typical workday lasted from 7-4 except for Sundays, when we got the day off.  To call it “make work” would be generously kind.  But we talked, told jokes, snacked when we could, and horse played from time to time as well. 

We also stood gun duty each day or night.  We had something like 4 section duty wherein our division was separated into 4 groups and each group would take a 4 hour shift sometime during the day or night.  This meant that some days you would have gun duty during your regular deck work (a blessing to get away from the monotony) or during normal sleep hours during the night.  Sleeping hours were from 10 PM to 6 AM so it was possible to miss half a night’s sleep on a pretty regular basis.  The guns we manned were typical 5” guns used throughout the fleet.  They could shoot maybe 15-20 miles (not quite to the horizon).  So your targets usually were within view.  Three of the divisions on board were responsible for the 16” turrets.  The turret guns fired mammoth-sized shells weighing either 1,900 or 2,700 pounds!  Each turret had 3 of these gigantic guns which took 79 men to operate it.

During our on station patrols, one 5” battery of guns (we had 10 altogether) was assigned to duty, as was one of the turrets.  In order that the ship’s crew could still continue their work on at least part of the exterior of the ship, the ship’s decks were roped off so that no one could get near to the firing guns.   As I recall, hatches leading from the interior of the ship to some of the nearby outside decks were secured with signs that warned of gun danger outside. 

After eating lunch one day, some of my buddies and I exited our normal egress hatch onto the main deck.  Considering the heat of the Vietnam environment, we all had our shirts off.  Just as we stepped around the lifeboat davits to get to our work space, we heard the “beep-beep-beep” warning horn from the aft turret.  That turret was on duty, and it had a firing mission that it was in the process of completing.  The turret guns were pointed to our starboard side, about 45 degrees to the right of the ship’s keel.  At the completion of the last “beep” the turret gun fired and the 4 of us thought we were immediately dead! 

I have never heard a noise so completely deafening!  The concussion of the launched shell literally compressed our bodies.  We didn’t know if we were alive or dead!  But the worst part of the experience was the cordite from the gun hitting our bare-chested bodies.  It gave me the impression that something had penetrated my body and I was temporarily suspended between life or death.  Talk about deaf, dumb and blind!  That was an experience that made me age about 20 years in an instant!

This is a view of turret 3 firing to starboard from an aft view looking forward.  You can actually see a sailor in the lower right hand corner of this picture.  He's probably on fan tail watch which consists of watching for anyone who might fall overboard.  I'm sure he's well protected against the effects of the blast.  One thing he has going for him is his ear protection which attenuates the volume of the gun's firing.  I was approximately the same distance from the gun as he is, but the gun was turned toward me so that I could see the open muzzle.  I was not in the orange ball of flame, but I was close to it!

To see the machinery, layout and operation of a 16” turret gun:  https://gizmodo.com/spectacular-photos-of-the-us-navys-most-powerfu...

Late in the afternoons we would sometimes go up to the forecastle (the bow area of the ship) and watch turrets 1 and 2 firing upon positions inland.  Here you can see the area where we would stand in the bow (the deck above the anchors).  The turrets would often fire over coastal ridges to protect troop positions or military hospitals because our gunnery was so precise.  We would look at a position about 100 feet out from the muzzle and wait for the beeps to indicate an imminent firing.  There we could catch the figure of an emerging shell and follow it for some distance as it hurtled outbound.  It was an awesome display of power as 1,900 or sometimes 2,700 pounds of shell accelerated into the sky!  Here you can see a 5" bullet leaving a modern gun mount.  Imagine a bullet more than 3x bigger.  As an added treat, the steel frame of the ship shuddered and moved the bow structure to and fro by about one foot!  What a ride!