NAVY'S HUSHED-UP TRAGEDY AT WEST LOCH

Sea Classics, Nov 2005 by Oliver, A Alan

With deafening force, the machine gun-like staccato of explosions seemed to skip from ship to ship with mindless lethality, bypassing one LST, setting fires in another, blowing giant holes in the next, wreathing yet another in swirling flame as protective tarpaulins on the upper decks were set afire by the flaming debris. Soon adding to the terrible mayhem were thousands of rounds of tracer ammunition torched off by the heat into a spectacular display of fireworks. Sailors had no option but to dive overboard to escape the carnage, the flames, choking smoke and flying chards of steel. Others sought shelter from the rain of death by heading below decks, diving under vehicles, or anything offering sanctuary.

With chaos and destruction everywhere - shrapnel ripping into them from all sides - every ship had to fend for itself as the few officers or senior petty officers aboard the vessels desperately tried to rally dazed, stunned, injured and frightened shipmates to action. Discipline and reactions varied widely from ship to ship depending on who was giving the orders, and the state of their training. A few LSTs quickly managed to get fire hoses into action, attempting in vain to force back gasoline-fed flames. But the rapacious advance of the infernos created suffocating temperatures which forced fire-fighters to forego their efforts and abandon ship. Elsewhere in the stricken anchorage, some crews literally abandoned ship before the formal order could be given simply because there was no officer present who knew what to do under such horrifying circumstances. Yet, despite the confusion and mayhem, other vessels saw damage control parties hastily mustered, those on the ships farthest from Tare 8 having the best success because of the less intense heat.

Hulls buffeted by the unrelenting force of the explosions, several of the hapless ships nearest LST-353 at Tare 8 began to take on water and sink; their hollow ferryboat-type interiors unable to stem the inrush of seas pouring through cracked seams and man-sized holes. Unable to move, abandoned, sinking, one after the other of the Tare 8 LSTs began to disappear in the smokey maelstrom rising from the fire blackened anchorage.

FIREMEN TO THE RESCUE

Within an hour of the first explosion, V/Adm. R. Kelly Turner, USN, commander of Adm. Spruance's amphibious force, was himself aboard a small launch personally helping direct the mounting rescue effort. And help came not a moment too soon as men fighting to save their lives were pulled from the waters by eager shipmates, many horribly burned. Everywhere, the charred bodies of floating corpses attested to the intensity of the explosions and resulting conflagrations. Making matters worse, seeping oil from sinking ships began to spread across the water to ignite LSTs at distant Tares which were not otherwise damaged or threatened. Like a giant mewing cyclops, the fire and destruction continued to spread in defiance of the assistance being given by anything that could float or lend a hand.