The Commanding Officer of the Conflict, LCDR Robert M. d'Alessio (Mar 1968 - Feb 1970),
       wrote a narrative describing the Conflict's 1969 West Pac deployment. 

His narrative makes many references to the Implicit and other units of Mine Division 91.

USS CONFLICT (MSO-426) West Pac 1969

by

LCDR Robert M. d'Alessio

Commanding Officer USS Conflict MS0-426

Part One

Our day of departure from Long Beach, February 17, 1969 was one which had been in all of our minds for a long time. The weather was warm and clear, and we received a fine send off from many dependents, the U. S. Naval Station Band, and Rear Admiral Bird, Commander Mine Force, U. S. Pacific Fleet, who came down to the pier to wish us well on our journey. CONFLICT was the first ship underway, bringing the last line aboard at ten o'clock sharp on the signal from Commander Mine Division Ninety-One. She let the division out through the entrance to the harbor, with a final farewell to a number of wives and friends who had driven to the end of the breakwater to see us through. Once clear of the outer harbor we formed up with PLEDGE, IMPLICIT, DYNAMIC, and PERSISTENT, and set course for Pearl Harbor.

As a further preface to the report on our trip, I will give you an outline of a normal day at sea. Each day begins with reveille at 0630 (except Sunday), followed by breakfast from 0645 until 0730. Breakfast generally consists of eggs to order, ham or bacon, and fried potatoes, pancakes, or French toast. Juice, dry cereal, and fresh milk (when we have it) are available every day. A muster is taken every morning at 0745 and the working day begins at 0800. The full morning is devoted to ship's work, ending at 1100. Dinner is served from 1115 until 1200, and the time between eleven and one is usually used for sun bathing, catching up on sleep, reading or just plain relaxing. We begin each afternoon with training of one sort or another. General Quarters may be called, with drills held on each of the stations, or we may have some other kind of emergency drill. School call is held right after general quarters or at 1300 if no drill is scheduled. The afternoon is also reserved for briefings or all hands lectures. Work continues until 1600, when we knock off for the day. Supper is served at 1700, and the remainder of the day is free. Doc Henri and Don Smith take turns calling bingo on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday nights at eight on the mess decks, and movies are shown on the other nights. We also have a movie on Sunday afternoon. When the weather is good, we are able to show the movies in the evenings on the forecastle, leaving the mess decks clear for reading, letter writing, and card games.

Each man stands two four-hour watches during each day, with eight hours off between. Taps is held at 2200, but many with watches beginning at midnight or at 0400 take the opportunity to hit the rack long before then. Saturdays are usually a half working day, with holiday routine in the afternoon, and Sundays are completely free. Breakfast is served to the watches from seven until eight, and brunch is open from ten until twelve. We spent most of the first day out of port going through various underway procedures which are important in the case of emergencies. We practiced at general quarters and fire stations, went to abandon ship stations, and rehearsed man overboard procedures. During the long legs of the transit we carry a rubber fuel cell on the fantail in order to augment the fuel capacity of the ship's tanks. This is necessary because often there is weather which makes it necessary to use more fuel to fight the seas in making headway than normal, and there isn't anywhere to stop in between to get more. The cell, securely strapped to the fantail, looks like a blob, and that's how we refer to it. We had a number of practice "blob fire drills" during the first few days. An oil spill and fire on the fantail present an extreme danger to the entire ship.

After we passed Catalina Island on the first day, the weather got progressively worse. By Tuesday we were rolling continuously with the wind on the beam, and for that day and the next no work was done while everyone concentrated on staying in one place. Most everyone had trouble getting their sea legs back, and it was extremely welcome when the wind backed around astern of our course on Thursday and the motion of the ship gave way to a gentle rolling. While no one enjoys bad weather, the two or three days of concentration on staying on one's feet and not having a strict routine provided each man with a chance to settle down and become accustomed to being at sea in his own way. By the time the weather cleared and we got back to the normal routine, it was old hat to all hands. Friday the 21st saw us in the swing of things, with a week left before our arrival in Pearl Harbor.

The weather gradually improved, and by the beginning of the second week underway people began appearing in shorts and without shirts on the upper decks to begin taking advantage of the sun. Shorts and sneakers or sandals became the uniform of the day, and many hours were spent in cutting off and hemming old dungarees. There are still a few diehards who haven't yet come over, but everyone acknowledges the comfort of shorts in the warm weather.

Our first sight of land came on Wednesday, 26 February when one of the islands of the Hawaiian chain was sighted. We saw an increased amount of shipping traffic as we neared Pearl Harbor, and saw the lights of the island of Oahu early on the morning of 27 February, right on schedule. Almost all hands were still below as we made the initial part of the crossing to the south of the island of Oahu on the way in to Pearl Harbor, but those who were up and about were treated to a dramatic view of the Diamond Head volcano crater outlined against the lights of the city of Honolulu. We made our entrance into Pearl Harbor right after the sun came up, and the entire division was tied up by shortly after eight o'clock. Mail was waiting for us on the pier, and the first order of business was sorting and distributing the letters and packages. Our own mailman left the ship immediately, with a week and a half's worth of letters bound back to the States. A number of official matters having to do with our arrival were taken care of, and liberty was put down for off-duty personnel. Most headed for the fabled beaches of Waikiki, where sun, sea and hotels combine into a tourists paradise and Hawaii's largest source of income. Thursday and Friday were spent in this way, with a minimum amount of time spent on shipboard work and necessary repairs from the voyage. We were surprised to see a formation of B-17 bombers of World War II vintage and a group of Japanese Zeroes doing maneuvers in the skies overhead, and felt that they had really gone all out to give us a sense of history. It was later discovered that they were in the process of making a movie about the events of 1941 at Pearl Harbor.

We took our departure on Saturday morning, 1 March, steaming out under clear skies and a stiff breeze. As we were lying to in the harbor waiting for the other ships to get underway we drifted past the monument to the USS ARIZONA, one of the battleships which were caught in the surprise attack on 7 December 1941. She still lies on the bottom where she was on that morning, and is the site of a structure which commemorates the men who lost their lives during the attack. We rendered honors, as do all ships which pass close aboard.

With our course set for Johnston Island, we spent the rest of the weekend enjoying holiday routine and recuperating from the always-hectic days in port. Suntans were begun in earnest, and Monday morning found most hands topside beginning on a massive repainting project of the entire superstructure.

We took a brief rest from that on Tuesday, when we pulled into Johnston for fuel and a cold beer or two. The wind was strong, and complicated greatly our mooring and getting underway. A fine job was done by the First Lieutenant, LTJG Ken Martin, and by the Engineer Officer, LTJG Mike Miller, as well as by all hands on the sea and anchor detail, in getting us in and out safely. It was here that we experienced our first engineering casualty of any major significance. One of the main engines went down, and for the next thirty-six hours the enginemen stood port and starboard watches while teams worked at restoring it to operation. Since that time we have had a number of other casualties, and each time the engineers have turned to with a will to restore our full engine capabilities. Norm DeChenne, Larry Tipton, David Cassford, and John Holland, working under the direction of Chief Engineman Larry Ryder, and Les Hendry, Bob Richardson, Frenchy L'Heureux, and Wayne Walter, working with First Class Engineman Ken Neumann, have put in long hours to keep the main engines running throughout the transit. The fact of our still being on schedule is a fine tribute to their efforts.

Our next stop was on Tuesday, 11 March at Kwajalein Atoll, which is the western end of the Pacific Missile Range. We again took on fuel and allowed everyone ashore for a short time to do some shopping at the exchange and to have a beer at the club which was opened for our use. Mail was brought on board once again, and we left some to go off, although we understood that the mail plane had just left that morning and that the next would not be through for four more days.

Our entry into port was again complicated by the wind, which had helped us along on our transit, but LTJG Miller did a superb job of ship handling in bringing us alongside. As we made preparations for getting underway again, however, our engines deserted us one by one, and by the time the signal was given we were down to one of the four. I took the Conn myself until we were underway and headed fair, and the fine performance of all hands at control stations made the job easy. The enginemen once again fell into their port and starboard watches while repairs went ahead, and within forty-eight hours we again had four on the line.

When we got underway from Kwajalein, we set our clocks ahead twenty-four hours, and what had been Tuesday afternoon became Wednesday afternoon. We had crossed the International Date Line two days before, but had not made the compensation for the date change at that time because Kwajalein keeps the same date as the United States. Our clocks have been set back an hour about every fourth day, and we are now in a zone which is eighteen hours later, on the same date, as the time in Long Beach. When it is nine o'clock where we are, it is three o'clock in the morning of the same day in California.

As we departed Kwajalein, we had an additional rider. Commodore Peterson, Commander Mine Division Ninety-One, came aboard to visit us for the trip from there to Guam Island. It is his policy to get around to all of the ships in his division to observe them in their daily operations and to establish a greater sense of rapport within the division.

We are now within one day of our arrival in Guam. The wind and the seas from astern have been helping us along for the past three weeks, but engineering problems have plagued all the ships, with this portion of the trip being the worst. The IMPLICIT and we are presently proceeding ahead in order to arrive close to the scheduled time. The other three ships have fallen behind due to problems on DYNAMIC and PERSISTENT and will arrive in Guam a day late. We expect to remain in Guam for two weeks, while the ship undergoes a short period of overhaul and enters dry-dock for a cleaning of her bottom and replacement and repair of her slightly damaged screws. We have received our schedule for the next three months, and expect to be out in the patrol area off the coast of Vietnam by the middle of April. After the first long patrol we will depart the area bound for a visit to Hong Kong, and then return to Kaohsiung, Taiwan, for a short upkeep period before returning to patrol duties. Everything thus far has been highly successful. While casualties are to be expected on a trip of this length, the ones which we have had have been taken care of in good time and with a high degree of skill and professionalism. The obvious willingness and ability of all hands, and particularly the engineers, gives every indication that this will continue to be as fine and as trouble-free a cruise as has been experienced by any ship. After our two weeks in Guam, we will depart to make the crossing to Subic Bay, Philippine Islands.

Part Two

We have been in port in Guam for the majority of the time with only two short transits. We have, however, finally come as far as we shall, and tomorrow will assume duties as a patrol ship in the Market Time Barrier off the coast of Vietnam.

Our period in Guam was highly successful, in terms of work accomplished as well as being a welcome break from the routine of the transit. We arrived at eh entrance of the harbor in company with IMPLICIT on the stroke of our estimated time of arrival, and proceeded directly to the fuel piers to offload our diesel oil in preparation for entering dry-dock the following day. Preliminary liaison began immediately with the Ship Repair Facility, which was to handle the repairs we had requested. By the time we had completed our offload of fuel and ammunition and moved to the main pier area, we had made all preparations for the beginning of work in the morning. Liberty call, when it was finally put down, came with a feeling of satisfaction at a fine transit.

We set the sea detail the next morning at 0815, and moved with a help of a tug into the well of USS ARCO, a floating dry-dock. IMPLICIT moved in astern of us, the gates were closed, and the process of pumping the water out of the dock was started. As the dock rose under us, the ship settled onto large wooden blocks which had been carefully placed beforehand, and by noontime we were sitting high and dry, with work already commencing in a number of places throughout the ship. All of the normal housekeeping services usually provided by the ship itself, were hooked up from the dry-dock, including steam pressure, fresh water, fire main pressure, electricity, and compressed air.

It has been a considerable time since the ship was last in dry-dock, and one of the major tasks was to clean the barnacles and marine life from the bottom, sandblast the hull, and repaint all of the under works. A scaffold was erected around the ship, and work was started as soon as the hull was dry. The crew spent the first two days delivering materials to be worked on to the various shops around the base, and in helping the yard workers to locate and begin work on the jobs which would be done aboard ship. We also continued with our own cleaning and painting program, making full use of the availability of air-powered tools. Shipyard are noisy places, generally, and our stay in the dry-dock was no exception.

All of our time was not spent working, however, and most personnel took the opportunity to spend quite a bit of time away from the ship. Guam is a small island, the farthest west of all outright U.S. possessions. It was ceded to the United States by Spain as a result of the Spanish American war, and except for a brief period during World War II, when it was occupied by the Japanese, has remained with us since. The people on the island are of a mixed Polynesian background, known as Chamorro, and the major industry is tourism. Guam is extremely popular as a resort area for the Japanese. The southern end of the island is hilly, while the northern is flat, and the surrounding reef provides fine opportunities for skin diving. Transportation is a problem, however, and there are no highly developed population centers, so most personnel found themselves taking advantage of the recreation facilities which were available on the base.

The primary of these is Gab Gab Beach, which fronts on the harbor. There is a small swimming area, and facilities are provided for cookouts. Trucks were run from the ship each day during the afternoon to allow off-duty personnel to get there, and the last truck back at 1800 could always count on finding eight or ten waiting for a ride. You may notice that I have not mentioned the weather. It has been so uniformly good for the past month and a half that it has almost ceased to be a matter of thought for us.

Our second weekend in Guam was spent participating in a divisional slow-pitch softball tournament. The first game with IMPLICIT on Saturday featured two home runs by Eddie Borgnino, fine pitching by Roger Hines, and a generally fine team effort in a five-run victory. Commodore Peterson was the umpire, and although it cannot be said that there were no arguments, those that we did have were necessarily short-lived. The game with the DYNAMIC for the divisional championship on Sunday was not so successful, however, and we came out on the short end of a 9-7 score. Immediately after the game all personnel retired to Gab Gab Beach, where the cooks prepared a cook-out dinner, and beer provided by the welfare and recreation committee was disposed of in short order.

The ball games were only one attempt at adding a measure of physical fitness to our lives while in Guam. Our in-port day began each morning during the week at 0735 with quarters held on the pier. After mustering and passing the word were completed, a short warm-up period was held, followed by a short run to get the circulation going for the day. Work on board began at 0800 and went on until 1115, when dinner was served. The previous day's duty section was granted liberty at 1130, and most spent the afternoon at the beach, bowling, or taking trips on the island. The remainder of the ship's company worked until 1500, when liberty was called away for the other section not on duty. The Club Mocambo, right on the base provided the major source of entertainment, with movies, shows, and a game room.

Our stay in Guam provided us with the opportunity to make many repairs which had become necessary during the course of the transit, and also to do many other jobs in the "nice to have done" category. The repair people from the shipyard were extremely helpful, and the entire ship's company did a tremendous amount of work while we were there. We remained in the dry-dock until Monday, March 31, when once again the water was let in and we were towed to a position alongside the pier. This was the national day of mourning for the passing of former President Eisenhower, and only essential work was carried out after the move was completed. We spent eh remainder of our time in Guam completing last minute preparations to break in equipment which had been completely overhauled. We left Guam on the morning of Friday April 4, with a feeling of great satisfaction.

Our next port was to be Subic Bay, in the Philippine Islands, and after two weeks away from the routine the at sea time was a pleasant change. We spent the Easter weekend relaxing with holiday routine, holding services on Sunday morning as we do every week at sea. The weather was hot, but we were unable to put up the swimming pool because of the necessity for carrying the blob on the fantail with our spare fuel. The swimming pool, which we expect to use during the next two months, is essentially a large canvas bag which we string up on the fantail and fill with sea water from the fire main system. It was sewn together by Boatswain's Mate Jim Trehan, and worked well in the one trial we were able to give it on the way in to Guam, though it's impossible to do much more in it than sit and be wet.

We continued with our painting work topside during the transit, and spent considerable time in cleaning up the ship after the people who had tracked all through it during the yard period. Evenings were spent with movies, cards, letters, and bingo, with the jackpot, which had been building up since our departure from Long Beach. Doc Henri continued with his soda sales, and the operations department ran the popcorn machine in the galley each evening. The welfare and recreation committee has invested in a popcorn and a soda machine, and returns are used to replenish the supplies as they run out.

By pushing our speed a bit, we were able to arrive in Subic Bay during the late afternoon on Thursday, April 10. We spent the day on Wednesday transiting through the central islands and around the many fishing and local craft which we observed. Many fishermen were seen, in their small, kayak-like boats with outriggers, and some displayed their catches to us as we passed close aboard. On Thursday morning we passed close to the entrance of Manila Bay and saw the island of Corregidor. This was the last outpost maintained by the United States before the Japanese Army took the Philippines in the early part of World War II, and was the place at which General MacArthur said "I shall return" as he was evacuated along with the last of the Americans.

Our landing at Subic Bay was made difficult by the number of ships in the area, and the tightness of our berth, but we were in and safely tied up by 1640. The standard briefings were held concerning the port regulations, and liberty call was held for all but the duty section. Having had such a successful visit to Guam in terms of work, we decided to use all available time here for liberty, and it was granted to all hands at 0900 each morning. Olongapo City has been famous for some time as something of a counterpart to Tijuana, but it was found that things have calmed down considerably since the ship's last visit last year. Many went there, and still others took the opportunity to go to Manila, about three hours away by bus, for a day. The base also provided excellent recreational facilities, and we were afforded our first chance to take advantage of some of the famous bargains which are available in the Western Pacific at the foreign exchange. Goods of foreign manufacture, such as cameras, tape recorders, and Filipino wood carvings, are available at fine savings, and many huge boxes were lugged aboard during our stay.

We left Subic Bay on Tuesday at noon, and have been transiting since to our patrol area, where we expect to arrive in the morning. We stopped the ship in the middle of the South China Sea yesterday afternoon, and all personnel being advanced in rate were treated to the traditional dunking in the ocean that goes with a new "crow" or stripe.

As I said at the beginning, we are currently making preparations to assume our patrol duties.

Part Three

This past month has been one of considerable disappointment for us. As I wrote to you last we were on the way to Subic Bay for the repair of some engineering casualties, and it proved to be three weeks before they were entirely cleared up. The month has had some high points, however, the best of which has been a weekend visit to Hong Kong, just completed.

We arrived in Subic Bay on 15 May to commence repair work on the pitch system which controls the movements of the screw (propeller) on the port shaft. The problem had developed during our last week on Market Time patrol off Vietnam, but we felt that it would be quick work for the personnel of the Ship Repair Facility at Subic Bay, and that we would soon be underway again to resume our duties. Work was begun as soon as we arrived, but after it was completed and put back together again we found that it still did not work properly. Another attempt was made, and we put to sea to give it an operational test, but once again the problem remained. The decision was made to put us into dry-dock so that the shaft could be removed and work performed from the after end. A dry-dock was made ready on an emergency basis, and we went in and were high and dry by the evening of 23 May.

Work went around the clock for the next week and a half, and included reworking of the pitch system and replacement of the blades of the port screw which had been damaged during the helicopter recovery operations at Nha Trang last month. On 5 June work was completed, the dock was floated, and we once again put to sea for a test. The results were all that were expected this time, and there was a great improvement in morale at the idea of our being seaworthy once again. After two more days of completing clean-up work on a number of other jobs which we had taken the opportunity to have done, we got underway on Sunday, 8 June, to hunt for some dummy mines which had been dropped in one of the coves near Subic Bay.

Commodore Peterson, who had arrived in port aboard the DYNAMIC, accompanied us for the day, and worked with us in our mine hunting. We were helped by a group of divers assigned to one of the other ships which was in port with us. And by the time the day was completed had three mines on the fantail and a number of others located. On the following morning we were underway early to start the trip to Hong Kong and our four- day R&R visit. We stopped and went to anchor briefly to observe a practice mine drop by a squadron of planes which are attached to one of the carriers which was in port, and then were off to join the DYNAMIC for the three day trip north through the South China Sea.

On the way out of the harbor we were able to see the damaged after section of the destroyer Frank E. Evans, which had only just arrived that morning to commence repairs. She was tied up at a special pier for the offloading of ammunition, and we were only able to see her at a distance. I expect that you have all seen pictures of her by this time. We all mourn the loss of so many Navy lives, and certainly hope that no more of our ships will come into the tragic circumstances which surrounded her collision.

The weather was windy and cloudy, and the seas were a bit high, and some of the crew once again went through the breaking-in period which always follows a long period in port. After two days of quiet steaming, Wednesday evening and early Thursday were spent in collecting bottom samples for an oceanographic survey in which we are taking part: we stop the ship and drop a scoop with a release arm on it to the bottom, which was as deep as a thousand feet. When it reaches the bottom the arm springs up and released the two sides of the scoop, which close to trap a portion of whatever material makes up the bottom. Don Smith worked through the night on the job and after we got the technique down right, the drops went quickly. We now have quite a number of bags of dirt from the ocean floor stored to await shipment.

After spending the rest of the day Thursday in sprucing up the ship for the port visit, we found the China coast on the radar on that evening, and went to slow speed to delay our arrival in Hong Kong until the early morning hours. As the first light came on Friday, 13 June, we steamed into what must be one of the prettiest harbors in the world. We followed the DYNAMIC through the harbor, avoiding a number of large merchant ships, ferried, and motorized fishing junks along the way, and tied up to the piers at the British naval station, HMS TAMAR. A briefing was held giving some of the ins and outs of liberty for the area, and then the duty section took over the ship while the remainder of the crew departed.

Hong Kong was originally discovered for the West by the Portuguese in the early 1500s, when they developed trade based on the nearby island of Macao. Hong Kong Island was ceded to the British by the Chinese authorities in 1842, and became the base for their great China trading companies. Hong Kong sits just across the harbor from Kowloon, a mainland city which was given to the British in 1860. The British also currently hold a 99-year lease, negotiated in 1898, on the New Territories, lands which run north of Kowloon to the border of what is now Communist China. Together these areas make up the British Crown Colony of Hong Kong, and are controlled by a British-appointed Governor assisted by a council composed of both British and Chinese. As a free port and an extremely beautiful location it attracts large numbers of tourists from Japan, America, and many other countries throughout the world. It is also a haven for refugees from mainland China, and has a population of some four million, all but about fifty thousand of whom are Chinese. Its major industries are tourism and light manufacturing, including a great amount of tailoring and handcrafting.

The ship remained in Hong Kong from Friday morning until Tuesday morning, and so all hands had ample time to go ashore and take advantage of some of the unique features of liberty in Hong Kong. A large percentage of the crew bought tailored clothing and shoes or boots from the many establishments which offer fine workmanship and extremely low prices. The Navy runs a display room where goods of all kinds are available, and most men took them or explored on their own, taking the ferries to Kowloon, or the tramway which runs to the top of Victoria Peak for a view of the city and the harbor. Chinese food and chopsticks were a new experience for almost everyone. Liberty hours were from 1130 until 1100 the following morning, and a great number of the crew took advantage of the overnight privilege to take rooms in the Hilton Hotel or any of a number of others which offer fine service and opportunity to get away from the ship and relax for a night.

No description of a Navy visit to Hong Kong would be complete without telling you about a painting job by Mary Soo and her crew. Since what seems like time immemorial she has met each ship which comes into port and negotiated for the job of painting the sides and whatever other areas are in need of a fresh coat. When the deal is concluded her people come aboard and, supplied with paint from the ship, commence a top-to-bottom paint-out of whatever has been agreed upon. Using rags and long, angled brushes, eight or ten men or women will come into a space and have everything completed within a couple of hours, doing in a short visit of days what we would require weeks to complete under normal operating conditions. She provides something of a face-lifting for the ship while the liberty provides rejuvenation for the crew. All taken together it was a good port visit, and as we came away it seemed that the ship had a new lease on life.

Unfortunately, we again find ourselves steaming toward Subic Bay for more repairs, instead of on operations as scheduled. We suffered a casualty to the ship's gyro compass on the way in to Hong Kong, and expect to spend the next week at Subic while repairs are completed. After that it will be on to Kaohsiung, followed by another visit to Vietnam for operations before beginning the long trip home.

This month, again, has been marked by a number of personnel changes. Right after our arrival in Subic Bay we received a surprise set of orders to transfer Damage Controlman Bob Hock to the Whippoorwill, a smaller minesweeper also here in the Western Pacific, and we sent him off on the 19th of May. The next day we sent Seaman John Davis back to the States for separation from the service, and Steward Rodolfo Almario and Storekeeper Gerry Pugeda on to new duty stations; the Naval Air Station at Point Mugu, California, and the Mine Force Support Group in Long Beach, respectively. Gerry Pugeda had been aboard for almost four years, the longest of any crew member. During that time he did a fine job as our leading storekeeper, a position he now turns over to Bill Bounds. Radarman Bill Pearson is now the "long timer" aboard, having joined the ship in August 1966.

Three new arrivals were next, with Steward Gil David reporting on 21 May, and Seaman Bob Hazel and Commissaryman Tommy Karaboyas coming aboard two days later. Commissaryman Jerry Wilson departed on 3 June for his new duty station at Great Lakes, Illinois, and we were joined on the sixth by Seaman Sheryl Dilley. Our best wishes go with those who have left us, and to the new arrivals hopes for a successful tour in CONFLICT.

The entire crew has been doing a fine job during the deployment, with each man making a definite contribution, be it in the day-to-day performance of his hob or in some special evolution brought on by the nature of our operations. Morale and effectiveness have been kept up through the fast periods and the slow, and teamwork and good working relationships among all hands have always been in evidence.

The crew itself is marked by a great diversity of background. 32 of the 49 continental states are represented aboard, with more than half the men from east of the Mississippi. California is home to most, with twelve native sons, and is followed by Illinois and Ohio with five and Florida, Oklahoma, and New Jersey with four. The average age is just over 23, although the range is from 19 to 44. The typical man has been aboard for just over a year, and only 14 of the 70 men presently assigned completed the entire last cruise with the ship. Twenty-five wives and some forty children are supported by the ship's payroll. Over fifty of the crew has completed high school, and twelve have had additional education beyond that. A majority of the crew are Protestant, buy twenty are Catholic, one is Jewish, one a Mormon, and two claim no faith. Over two-thirds of the men are in their first enlistment, and one is within one year of retirement. With this kind of a mixture of people, and with the opportunity for travel and varied operations, it can be said that the Navy and shipboard life provide a broadening experience for almost everyone.

The time has been passing quickly, and we find ourselves more than halfway completed with the deployment. The next month will be spent primarily in upkeep periods, but then we shall be on the move almost constantly until our return to the United States.

Part Four

The final stages of our journey are upon us as I write. We will be in Buckner Bay, Okinawa, a fuel stop on the transit to Yokosuka, Japan, which will be our last stop before commencing the transit back across the Pacific to Long Beach. The past month and a half have been characterized by shifting schedules and another major equipment casualty.

Our Market Time patrol period continued uneventfully up until the end. With the exception of time off station for refueling from oilers, our days were spent steaming along the DMZ barrier patrol, watching for contacts and ensuring that none of our vessels crossed north of the line. During one particular underway refueling we had occasion to be alongside the oiler at the same time as the hospital ship REPOSE was receiving fuel from the other side. While we were close aboard, a period of about forty minutes, three helicopters from the beach were received aboard the REPOSE, bringing casualties from land operations to receive medical attention at what is in all respects a completely equipped hospital. It was sobering to think of the action, and the resulting casualties, taking place so near at hand, but it was gratifying, in another respect, to know of the availability of the fine medical attention that these men will receive, and that there is a time lag of something on the order of half an hour between injury in battle and arrival at a fully equipped medical facility. These large white vessels, patrolling near the coast, have been the saviors of many men who in previous wars would have died but for the care that they can now receive in such short order.

Our original schedule called for relief by the IMPLICIT on 28 July, but she experienced an engine casualty in the last minutes before getting underway from Subic Bay, and was unable to make the transit to the station. It was necessary for us to remain on station until the fourth of August, when one of the ships from the division which will assume our duties for the next five months was scheduled to arrive. The EXCEL was due at about noon, and we spent the previous day in refueling, making out our final reports, and generally preparing for the transit to Sasebo, Japan, for the scheduled upkeep period.

At 0700 on the morning we were to depart, however, the bridge received a call from Main Engine Control, reporting an unusual noise in the starboard reduction gear. This gear functions much as the transmission does in an automobile: it takes the high speed shaft outputs from the diesel engines and reduces the speed to a usable RPM for the main shafts. There are large horsepower and forces involved, for the driving power for the whole ship is transmitted through one of these sets of gears on each of the two shafts. The bull gear (on the main shaft) is greater than three feet in diameter, and the whole set is built, at a cost of hundreds of thousands of dollars, to extremely close tolerances. Any sign of trouble within the gear set is cause to stop the shaft immediately, to prevent potential further damage. We did so, and inspection revealed that there were a number of chips out of some of the gear faces, a situation which reduced us to one shaft for propulsion, and which would necessitate extensive repairs.

The EXCEL arrived on station at about ten that morning, and we made a quick turnover with her and began our transit. The nearest repair facility was, once again, at Subic Bay, and so we decided to head directly there instead of attempting what would have been a two week voyage to Sasebo with only one shaft. The decision soon received message concurrence from our operational commanders, and by plugging along at seven and a half knots we were able to arrive in Subic Bay on the afternoon of Friday, 8 August.

It shortly became obvious that our troubles weren't yet over. After steaming without difficulty for four days, one of the two engines on the port shaft ruptured a water line when we were within three hundred feet of our berth at Subic, and we were reduced to one engine on one shaft for making the approach. Wind and sea conditions were minimal, however, and we were lined up properly, so I felt that no real difficulties would be encountered. I had reckoned without the pitch casualty which ensued. We were in position and nearly alongside when the port shaft failed to respond to an order for astern pitch, and suddenly we found ourselves steaming at three knots ahead toward the pier, which was some forty feet away. I ordered the engine, and thus the shaft, stopped, but there was nothing to kill our headway, and we rammed the pier with force enough to spring the bow plate, installed for just such a circumstance, and crack some of the timbers in the peak. We wound up in the right position and quickly threw over and made up all of our lines, but it must be put down as a less than auspicious arrival. A subsequent inspection revealed that no leaks had been sprung; but that it would be necessary to go into dry-dock to effect repairs to the damaged sections of the bow.

We found the IMPLICIT waiting for us when we arrived, under orders to remain with us until our repairs were completed, a job which we felt would take approximately two weeks. The personnel from the Ship Repair Facility (SRF) came aboard as soon as we were tied up, and formally established that period as a target date for completion of their work. The ship's force turned to other projects, planning for complete readiness of all other equipment for the transit as soon as SRF was finished with the reduction gear job.

A dry-dock was cleared for our use on the following Saturday, 16 August, and we entered it during the afternoon for commencement of the work on the bow. The bottom of the dock still had water in it when the workers began to erect the scaffolding, and work began immediately. A quick job was made of the repairs, and the dock was flooded again late in the afternoon of 20 August, when we were pulled out and returned to a berth alongside the pier with a new bow plate and restored timbers. All that remained now was awaiting the completion of the work on the reduction gears.

Completion time was moved back to the weekend of the 23rd, and then finally to Monday, 25 August, when we held the crew on board in anticipation of dock and sea trials which would prove the success of the work. Delays were again encountered, though, and it was late on the afternoon of the 26th before we were able to begin the trials. A false start was made, when it was discovered that one of the pumps would have to be reinstalled, and it was 2300 before we were able to begin in earnest. Things went smoothly from then on, with all dock trials showing the readings to be satisfactory, and we got underway with the full sea and anchor detail stationed at 0100 to give the repairs a test at sea. It was a bright moonlit night, lacking of wind and seas, and provided optimum conditions for the tests. As soon as we were clear of the piers we went to speed 12, and for the next hour and a half se a straight course out of the harbor, made a wide turn, and steamed back in again, with all reports from the engineroom showing that readings were normal and that the repairs were a success. In view of the good results, we heard very few complaints at the late hours required for the tests.

One of the watch sections had been sent below for some sleep in anticipation of having to steam through the night, and the sea detail, thus reduced, brought the ship alongside the fuel piers for a brief stop to fill the blob in preparation for the transit to Yokosuka. After we came alongside the relieving watch was called to man the ship, and the relief was effected during the half hour that we remained at the pier. As soon as the blob was full, and just about at sunrise, we took in all lines and set course out of the harbor once again, bound for Buckner Bay, Okinawa, for another fuel stop. It was a long night, made longer by the uncertainty which had prevailed, but the success of the trials meant that we would be able to leave in time to join the remainder of the division for the return transit.

After rounding the tip of the peninsula which forms Subic Bay, we set course to the north and proceeded ahead of IMPLICIT, who was to leave later in the morning and catch up with us along the way. We plan a four-hour fuel stop at Buckner Bay on Saturday, 30 August, and then continuation of the transit to Yokosuka, where we should arrive on Wednesday, 3 September. The rest of the division should arrive there on 8 September, and all of us will depart the following day for Midway Island, a fuel stop, Pearl Harbor, again for fuel and perhaps a day's upkeep, and, finally, Long Beach.

The personnel situation has undergone some extensive changes over the last month and a half. Second Class Damage Controlman Richard Stadter joined us on July 22 after a ride up the line on the fleet oiler which serviced the Market Time forces. Our day of departure from the Market Time area, 4 August, was the date of re-enlistment for First Class Quartermaster Ennis Raynor, who signed on for another six years.

A number of familiar names began to leave us shortly after our arrival at Subic. Radioman Dale Miller, Engineman Ken Neumann, and Radarman Bill Pearson departed for the States and separation on 14 August, all of them having turned in fine performances during their tours aboard. Bill Pearson had been the long-timer aboard, a title which he now relinquishes to Signalman Jerry Tomlinson, who has been with us for thirty-three months

.

August 20 saw another large turnover. Sonarman Don Smith the man responsible for keeping our sonar operational for the past year, and one who's played a large role in all of our mine hunting and aircraft search successes, departed, also for separation. Boatswain's Mate George Brown and Engineman Les Hendry also left on this date, transferred for duty to the USS GALLANT in an exchange of duty with two men of similar ratings. This type of transfer is an inter-ship trade of personnel, carried out at no cost to the government at the request of the personnel involved; George and Les, who wished to stay over here and enjoy the pay benefits, found two married men who wanted to return to the Stares, and the swap was arranged. Joining us in the trade were Engineman Charles Wyatt and Boatswain's Mate Wes Ritter.

Those of you who have been with us for the entire trip have probably been somewhat bewildered at the amount of comings and goings of crew members--a quick count shows that there have been thirty different receipts or transfers of personnel, along with seventeen changes in rate. All of which have served to keep the ship's office personnel, Yeoman Dave Moore, and Seaman Ken Shannon, well occupied for a good part of the time. As the cruise draws to a close, we are beginning to receive orders on new personnel who will be reporting aboard after our return to the states, and instructions for those who will be departing. In a message received yesterday, the Bureau of Naval Personnel announced that all regular and reserve personnel who are due to be separated from the Navy prior the next March will be given a three month cut in their period of obligated service. This is in implementation of the manpower reduction of some 72,000 personnel recently announced by Secretary of the Navy Chafee, and will effect twelve of the personnel currently aboard.

A final happy note for the month was struck when we received word, right at the end of our period on patrol, that CONFLICT had been awarded the MINEPAC "E" for excellence in the Supply Department in the annual competition among all MSO's. This was the first year of the award, and is a real feather in the caps of all contributing personnel, from the Supply Officer, LTJG Ken Martin, and his predecessor, LTJG Larry Jordan, through the storekeepers Gerry Pugeda, Bill Bounds, and Celio Roman, the stewards, Wilfredo Lucenio, Gil David, and Rodolfo Almario, and the cooks, Jim Simms, Jerry Wilson, Dave Bloom, and Tommy Karaboyas. All of these men have turned in long and diligent hours at their work, and this recognition is a highly deserved one.

Congratulations also to Stewards Gil and Annetta David, who were married a week ago while he was on leave in the Philippines.

I expect that I shall be writing one more letter to you, just before our arrival in Pearl Harbor, as a wrap-up for the entire cruise. Leave chits for the period after the ship's arrival at Long Beach are in the final stages of preparation, and I know that many of you are already in the midst of making plans for our first weeks back in the States. Our thoughts are with you, as always, and hope the last few weeks before our return will be smooth ones.

Part Five

At this time we are approaching the final leg of our journey back to the United States. We plan to arrive in Pearl Harbor on 23 September, where we will remain for one night while we accomplish minor voyage repairs and take on fuel and provisions, and then depart the following morning for Long Beach. We expect to arrive there on the morning of Saturday, 4 October, if the weather remains good and we suffer no major engineering casualties.

We stopped briefly at Buckner Bay for fuel with the USS IMPLICIT on the way from Subic Bay to Yokosuka, Japan. We arrived there late in the afternoon, held the stop to three hours, and were underway again just as the sun was setting. The transit was a smooth one, and we arrived in the outer reaches of Tokyo Bay at noontime on Tuesday 2 September. Yokohama, which serves as port city for Tokyo, is one of the busiest ports in the world, and there was a great deal of traffic in the channel as we spent the afternoon making our approach to the Naval Base at Yokosuka. We maintained maximum speed all the way into the harbor, attempting to arrive before nightfall and a rainstorm which threatened during the last hour of the transit. We tied up outboard of IMPLICIT just as the evening colors ceremony was being executed by the other ships at the pier.

The stay in Yokosuka was scheduled for six days. With no major work to be done in preparation for our departure, we put down liberty call each morning at 1000, and so the visit was essentially, a liberty stop. The naval base has a fine foreign exchange, and with all the boxes and packages which have been brought aboard we have something of the appearance of a cargo vessel. Special services offered a fine tour to Tokyo, which a number of personnel took part in over the weekend, and many others made the trip on their own. Some of us had hoped to be able to go to and climb MT. Fujiyama, but the weather was not right for it. And in fact we were unable to glimpse it from the base even once during the time that we were there.

Commodore Peterson and the remaining two ships from the division, PLEDGE and DYNAMIC, arrived on Monday morning, September 8, and at noon on Tuesday the four of us were underway, together for the first time since we had arrived at Subic Bay back in April. The weather was cloudy and a bit windy as we left the mouth of the harbor and lifted to the first sea swells before turning east on the way to Midway. This weather was to remain with us all the way to Midway, as a weather front maintained almost the same course and speed that we did, and the transit was a little too windy and rough for us to be able to accomplish much topside work.

On September 15 we made a mid-ocean rendezvous with the fleet oiler USS CHEMUNG, who was on a transit in the opposite direction, and went alongside her for fuel. She turned in our direction, so that we were able to keep up our advance, and the four of us had all topped off and were on the way again by noontime. On the night of the 17th we crossed the International Date Line, and had to add a day to our calendar to bring us in line with Midway and Hawaii. We set all the clocks back 22 hours, reverting to two o'clock in the morning of our second Wednesday, 17 September, and called away holiday routine for the day so that all hands could adjust to the larger-than-usual time change. We normally have holiday routine on Wednesday afternoons while at sea, and so worked the first Wednesday and rested on the second. It's not a situation you often run into.

We had been slowed somewhat during the past two days by various casualties, none of them serious, but still held out hope of being able to get into and out of Midway on our second Wednesday. During the early afternoon the Commodore opened out the formation and told us all to put our speed at maximum and make for port. The channel at Midway is tricky, having been cut between large banks of coral, and entry is not permitted after dark. We all arrived at intervals during the hour before sunset, and found a full crew waiting on the pier to hook up the fuel rigs and get us topped off and ready to go as soon as possible. The job was quickly finished, and we made our sortie and set course for Pearl Harbor within three hours of our arrival.

The morning after, however, proved to be something of a headache. The port pitch system suddenly ran out of oil pressure, and we found ourselves unable to control the settings of the propeller blades. Our preliminary investigation showed that no quick solution would suffice, and as we have no one aboard who is trained and expert in the system. We put out a call to the division for personnel from other ships who might be able to help us with the work. A rather harrowing boat transfer brought three enginemen and the Commodore aboard, and we variously sat dead in the water and proceeded at six knots on one shaft while they worked below. The problem was finally solved at about midnight, and we again put the boat in the water to take people back to their respective ships before once again proceeding on toward Pearl at top speed.

We're keeping a close eye on the engineering plant and, perhaps with undue optimism, anticipate no further problems which will prevent us from making our scheduled arrivals at Pearl Harbor and Long Beach on time.

When we do reach Pearl Harbor a number of people will be departing on leave, and so this leg of the trip is the last time that the crew which has made the entire cruise will be together. Actually, of course, with all the comings and goings, the crew has never been exactly the same from one month to the next, but with the way of life necessarily even the new arrivals seem to have been with us for a great deal of time. Every ship of a type must necessarily perform the same tasks and provide for the same skills in order to carry them out, and so in this way they are all essentially the same. But the manner in which the job is performed and the overall impression which on gains as one comes aboard a ship, are direct results of the people who make up the crew--each man makes a contribution to the whole, and the performance of each individual determines whether or not the overall results will be good or bad.

During the entire deployment, we've had our ups and downs--and also that most of the downs have been a result of equipment casualties which have been pretty much beyond our control. Through all of it, each man on board has done a fine job in pulling his own weight and in most cases, due to the small number of men in relation to the work to be performed, a great deal more. Our transits have been smooth ones and the performance of the ship in our primary mission, that of the Market Time Patrol was highly creditable. We had excellent results with our special helicopter recovery operations at Nha Trang during April and May, and did well with the mine recoveries in which we participated at Subic Bay in June. During all of our import time--at Guam, Hong Kong, Kaohsiung, Subic Bay for long periods, and, finally, Yokosuka--we had no major incidents ashore, and the performance of the crew while on liberty was commendable at all times.

Each of the departments has had a part in the fine record which we have made while on the deployment. LTJG Ken Martin, who served as First Lieutenant and Supply Officer, has had good support in both the Deck and Supply departments. Jim Trehan, the leading boatswain's mate, has worked with rated boatswain's mates Rich Podolski, Herb Reynolds, George Brown, and Wes Ritter in supervising all replenishment and deck evolutions in a highly capable manner. Deck seamen Wilf Gauthier, Eddie Borgnino, Gary Coffman, Marty Martinez, Dave Padilla, Bob Hazel, and Sheryl Dilley as well as John Davis and Tom Hooe who left us early in the cruise, have carried the load on all of these evolutions, and additionally have maintained the boat, all topside deck areas, and other departmental spaces in fine condition. Clay Gabitsch and Eddie Burke, the gunner's mates, have been responsible for the readiness of all weapons, while at the same time taking a hand in the deck evolutions.

Steve Bounds has joined his brother Bill and Celio Roman in the Supply office, and together they have been keeping up the fine record left by Gerry Pugeda. Celio Roman has done an excellent job as our alongside and sea detail helmsman for the entire cruise. Steward Wilfredo Luceno has been with us for the entire cruise, working first with Rololfo Almario and then Gil David. They have been responsible for maintenance of the wardroom spaces, the serving and preparation of meals, and they also serve as gunners on the forward mount and as lookouts during special evolutions. Jim Simms, Tommy Karaboyas, and Dave Bloom, in addition to cooking all of our meals, have duties as gunners on the machine gun mounts during general quarters and on the bridge during sea detail evolutions.

LTJG David Troutman has led the operations department, which bore the brunt of the load during the Market Time patrol periods. Don Smith, Bill Pearson, and now Al Sherman have each seen duty as leading man in Combat Information Center, with primary assistance coming from radarmen Mike Wignall and Mike Moore. Sonarman John Hermann and Steve Schindler have also stood watches in CIC, as have electronics technicians Jim Bundy, Terry Asher, and now Mike Cutkosky, who joined us upon our arrival in Yokosuka. The combat watch bill has been filled out by yeomen Dave Moore and Ken Shannon, who have also had a full load of work in the ship's office. Dave Moore has just been advanced to First Class Yeoman, a much deserved promotion.

Ensign Eric Moore, who reported to the ship less than a week before we departed on the deployment, has done a fine job with the Communications division. Radio has been manned by Dale Miller and Rick Szpyrka, who has taken over as leading radioman, along with Sid Wohlman and Steve Richter. Bob Bleau, our remaining electronics technician, has also had a part as a radio watch stander. The bridge team has been led by quartermaster Ennis Raynor, whose main task has been serving as assistant to the Executive Officer in navigation. The signal bridge and signalman watches have been manned by Jerry Tomlinson, Tim Palmer, and Gary Burton.

LTJG Mike Miller and his engineers have coped in turn with each problem which has come up, and all in all have maintained the engineering plant in fine operating condition. Chief Electrician Bill Hause, who departed in Yokosuka for duty on the helicopter carrier Valley Forge, supervised all electrical maintenance and repairs and also served as Chief Master-At- Arms and joined the ship's officers in standing officer-of-the-deck watches on the bridge. Barney Bondurant has taken over as leading electrician, working with Gaby Dibaczy, Pete Thomsen, and Lee Stone, as well as interior communicationman Roger Hines. These men, along with all of their normal work and watch standing duties, are the ones who have run the machine for an average of ten movies a week.

Engineman Chief Larry Ryder has now added duties as Chief Master-At-Arms to his normal work as man in charge of the main propulsion and general engineering equipment. Helping him as the supervisor of auxiliaries and the forward engine room is Vince Robison, who works with Bob Richardson, John Huchton, Paul L'Heureux, Gary Moon, and Wayne Walter. Wayne Walter has also been advanced this month, to Machinery Repairman Third Class. This is a rate which we do not normally have on board, and his advancement was the result of a great deal of self-study.

They after engine room, where we have our four main engines, were supervised for most of the cruise by Ken Neumann, and now by Dave Cassford. We may have had engineering problems, but in the main it hasn't been with these engines, and this has been due to the fine work of all of the enginemen. The personnel assigned aft are George Seaman, Charlie Wyatt, Mel Samsel, John Holland, Dwight Phillips, and, before their departure, Less Hendry, Gary Hiltabidej, and Norman DeChenne; but almost all of the enginemen have seen duty in this space at one time or another. Larry Tipton and John Huchton have shared duties as log room yeoman, the administrative assistant to the Engineer Officer, and Bob Richardson has been the fuel and water king.

Damage Controlman Randy Dunn is responsible for all plumbing and carpentry repairs throughout the ship, as well as for the condition and readiness of all of the firefighting equipment. He, along with Johnny Mozingo and Dick Stadter, also plays a large role in the ship's repair party organization during general quarters and fire drills. Bob Hock, who both joined and left us during the course of the cruise, worked with them in this area.

Doc Henri is the medical department aboard, and is a man of many hats. He takes care of sick call, gives us our shots, does his own administration, and additionally serves as mess decks master-at-arms, sells cokes and cigarettes, runs tournaments and handles all of the funds which are derived from these activities.

These are the men who have done all of the work that's gone on during the course of the cruise. The performance that they have turned in, individually and collectively, has been an outstanding one, and I consider that we have had a highly successful cruise to the Western Pacific. We've been away for a long time, and with the pressure of operations and the unpredictability of our schedule there have been few periods which were completely slack. We all look forward to arriving in the states and being able to enjoy leave or, if not that, a great reduction in the tempo of our operations.

An extremely gratifying note has been the fact that it has not been necessary to send a single man home for emergency leave, which indicates that all of you have come through this time without serious illness or grave problems of other natures. This factor adds a great deal to the feeling of satisfaction at a good cruise which will soon be completed. All of us look forward with great anticipation to our return to Long Beach, and I hope that many of you will be able to be at Pier Nine at the Naval Station when we pull in.

It has been a memorable trip for me and, I believe, for all hands. You may all be justly proud of your CONFLICT man and his performance during the deployment, as I have been. Many of you will be leaving the CONFLICT family during the near future, and to you I wish the best of luck. And for those of you who will be remaining with us, I hope that your association with the ship and the Navy has been and will continue to be a good and fruitful one.

My best to all of you.

Yours Sincerely,

LCDR R. M. D'alessio
Commanding Officer