I wrote about the USS JOHNSTON (DD-557) this past Monday. Today I pause to honor her captain, LCDR Ernest E. Evans, USN.

Ernest Evans was 3/4 Cherokee Indian. A native of Oklahoma, he was in the company of GM2 Paul Henry Carr, a native of Checotah, OK, on the fateful day of Oct 25th, 1944. They both died that day at sea. LCDR Evans attended the US Naval Academy, graduating in 1931. He was a “Black Shoe,” a Surface Warfare Officer (SWO) in modern day terms:

Ernest Edwin Evans (13 August 1908 – 25 October 1944) was born at Pawnee OK and graduated from Central HS in Muskogee before enlisting in the US Navy on 29 May 1926. He was appointed to the U.S. Naval Academy in 1927, graduating with the class of 1931. He served in USS Colorado, USS Roper, USS Rathburne, USS Pensacola, USS Chaumont, USS Cahokia, and USS Blackhawk. During World War II, he commanded USS Alden (DD 211) and USS Johnston (DD 557).

On the day of commissioning of the USS JOHNSTON (DD-557), Captian Johnston said to his crew:

“This is going to be a fighting ship. I intend to go in harm’s way, and anyone who doesn’t want to go along had better get off right now.”

Words he lived by, words he died by, and the words he will forever be remembered by.

When Captain Johnston sighted the Japanese battle force, bearing down on the escort carriers of Taffy 3, he did, without order and without hesitation, turn his ship towards the enemy battle ships and commenced to engage them, displaying the aggressive spirit that shaped the battle the rest of the morning. From the Wikipedia USS JOHNSTON (DD-557) entry:

Johnston’s gunnery officer later reported “We felt like little David without a slingshot.” In less than a minute Johnston was zigzagging between the six little escort carriers and the Japanese fleet and putting out a smoke screen over a 2,500-yard front to conceal the carriers from the enemy gunners: “Even as we began laying smoke, the Japanese started lobbing shells at us and the Johnston had to zigzag between the splashes…. We were the first destroyer to make smoke, the first to start firing, the first to launch a torpedo attack….”

At 10 NM, the close to the maximum range of the 5″38/caliber guns, JOHNSTON opened fire at the IJN Kumano, a cruiser, and scored hits. Captain Evans then maneuvered to fire his 10 21″ torpedoes at Kumano, before darting behind a smoke screen. Upon coming through the smoke, the Kumano was seen to be badly damaged and on fire as a result of the immediate attack by JOHNSTON.

Three 14″ shells struck the JOHNSTON, damaging the bridge area and reducing her engineering plant to one engine. Wounded, yet undeterred, Captain Evans took her back into the battle, and purposely directed his gunnery officer to fire on a Japanese heavy cruiser that was firing on the USS GAMBIER BAY (CVE-73), in the hopes of distracting the Japanese from further damaging her intended target.

Next, her took on an approaching Japanese destroyer squadron, chasing them off with effective gunfire. They retired to a safe distance out of JOHNSTON’s gun range, and then Japanese cruisers moved in to take on this FLETCHER Class destroyer that had fought so bravely. They finished her off:

The enemy ships closed in for an easy kill, pouring fire into the crippled destroyer. Johnston took a hit which knocked out one forward gun, damaged another, and her bridge was rendered untenable by fires and explosions resulting from a hit in her 40 mm ready ammunition locker. Evans, who had shifted his command to Johnston’s fantail, was yelling orders through an open hatch to men turning her rudder by hand. At one of her batteries a crewman kept calling “More shells! More shells!” Still the destroyer battled to keep the Japanese destroyers and cruisers from reaching the five surviving American carriers: “We were now in a position where all the gallantry and guts in the world couldn’t save us, but we figured that help for the carrier must be on the way, and every minute’s delay might count…. By 9:30 we were going dead in the water; even the Japanese couldn’t miss us. They made a sort of running semicircle around our ship, shooting at us like a bunch of Indians attacking a prairie schooner. Our lone engine and fire room was knocked out; we lost all power, and even the indomitable skipper knew we were finished. At 9:45 he gave the saddest order a captain can give: ‘Abandon Ship.’… At 10:10 Johnston rolled over and began to sink. A Japanese destroyer came up to 1,000 yards and pumped a final shot into her to make sure she went down. A survivor saw the Japanese captain salute her as she went down. That was the end of Johnston.”

Captain Evans did what destroyers are to do: Place his ship between the enemy and the main force units. He pressed the battle, regardless of his injuries, and damage to his ship, to give the carriers time to clear the area, only giving up when he had lost every means of combating the adversaries.

From Eagle Speak:

Medal of Honor citation for CDR Earnest Evans, CO of Johnston reads:

For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty as commanding officer of the U.S.S. Johnston in action against major units of the enemy Japanese fleet during the battle off Samar on 25 October 1944. The first to lay a smokescreen and to open fire as an enemy task force, vastly superior in number, firepower and armor, rapidly approached. Comdr. Evans gallantly diverted the powerful blasts of hostile guns from the lightly armed and armored carriers under his protection, launching the first torpedo attack when the Johnston came under straddling Japanese shellfire. Undaunted by damage sustained under the terrific volume of fire, he unhesitatingly joined others of his group to provide fire support during subsequent torpedo attacks against the Japanese and, outshooting and outmaneuvering the enemy as he consistently interposed his vessel between the hostile fleet units and our carriers despite the crippling loss of engine power and communications with steering aft, shifted command to the fantail, shouted steering orders through an open hatch to men turning the rudder by hand and battled furiously until the Johnston, burning and shuddering from a mortal blow, lay dead in the water after 3 hours of fierce combat. Seriously wounded early in the engagement, Comdr. Evans, by his indomitable courage and brilliant professional skill, aided materially in turning back the enemy during a critical phase of the action. His valiant fighting spirit throughout this historic battle will venture as an inspiration to all who served with him.

One ship has been named to honor a man so courageous: USS EVANS (DE-1023), a destroyer escort of the Dealey Class.Commissioned Jun 14th, 1957, her tactical call sign was, appropriately, “Turning Point.” EVANS was homeported in San Diego. The history I can find shows she completed deployments to the Western Pacific, seeing service during the Quemoy-Matsu saber rattling between the US, Taiwan and China, and off Vietnam in the mid-60s. EVANS was decommissioned in 1968 from the active fleet in 1968. Placed in the reserve fleet, she was scrapped in 1973.Walk the Line download

It was cool, but not cold. The skies were beckoning. Four aircraft sat fueled, waiting for the turbines to crank.

89 jumpers, two of them camera “flyers,” milled about, discussing the 5 jumps yesterday, or other things, or the upcoming jump, while sorting through gear bags and extracting various pieces of “business equipment.”

With the smell of the kerosene based jet fuel exhaust in the air, sometime around 9AM, the geared up jumpers climbed into their assigned aircraft for the lift to 15,000 ft AGL (which, being on the banks of the York River, was effectively MSL, too).

They taxied, some nodding off, some already asleep, despite the din of the high pitched jet engines with propellers attached, some shifted to see out the nearest door or window to watch the ground pass by enroute the runway. Finally, off the ground they went, the Super Casa, two Twin Otters and a Beech King Air.

Jump run was roughly south, with the 5 minute and 2 minute standby to jump signals were radioed between pilots and yelled at the occupants of the cargo areas. We rose, feeling the connection points of our harnesses, pushing the pilot chutes into their pack or leg mounted containers, careful to make sure the attached hackey sack was still protruding for easy gripping at the moment needed later on.

Shuffling into positions, doors opening, “floaters” carefully getting their grips and placing their toes on door frames before swinging outside of the cabins, all eyes, from any vantage point in the trailing three planes, on the rear ramp of the Super Casa in the lead of the four ship “V”, with the King Air aft and starboard to make the “V” look more like a check mark.

In the Super Casa, at 15,000 feet over West Point, VA airport: “READY! SET!!!!! (the photographer lets go and gets big) GOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!” and the bodies give into gravity, followed instantly by those “stacked” further forward. Cascades of humanity from three other planes join the “base,” eyes seeking the expected color pattern of jumpsuits and rigs as briefed and seen on the ground. Subtle and not so subtle movements begin as people move to their assigned quadrants, facilitated by the placement in the various aircraft, to minimize the possibility of collisions. The floaters from the Casa, who had been hanging on the side of the door frame by their hands, legs bent at the knees inboard to avoid the airstream outside of the shape of the boxy fuselage, hover above and aft of the formation on the line of flight, ready to pounce their “slots” when they see the base stable out.

“Divers” aggressively close the small, fast falling formation, moving to within feet of where their position will appear, if all goes as planned. Those from the other planes are all in this category, maneuvering quickly to a quadrant, then checking to see how to refine their position relative to the base, and to keep a straight, clear line of flight when it’s their turn.

Meanwhile, within the “base,” which includes “The Queen,” (that’s Carol Clay’s nickname, not a formation position), and Larry Pennington (read the linked post..his name is there), along with some big boys, who, not only will fall fast because of their size, but also because of their demonstrated discipline to not relax their arch and let the core slow down. They have to keep the base falling “down the pipe” (straight down), faster than the average freefall speed and on heading, as the rest of those inbound to their slots can’t be sliding around the sky all day to get to a target location moving in several dimensions simultaneously.

People are bleeding off speed in their transition from a delta body position to a modified “frog” body position. If you watch closely, you can discern the waves working in towards the base, people a few feet apart, “sheep dogging” their slots. The base grows quickly, as successive rings of jumpers find their grip points and attach themselves. The photographers drastically change their fall rate, going “low” to get upward looking shots, then spreading the wing area under their arms to slow and get back above the formation to get other angles.

My slot is now there. The other edge of the formation a few feet away from where I have been lurking since diving out of the King Air, with only three others coming out behind me. A fast dive, while sliding laterally to my quadrant and then to about the 4:30 position of the formation, followed by a flare and a relatively fast belly to earth fall position. I move forward and reach with my left hand for my single grip on the right knee of the jumper. I failed to keep my symetry and bobble a bit. I drop about a foot below the formation as a result, then flatten out my arm and get back up, now being within the proper distance to take my grip. I am in. A few more of the total of 87 jumpers enter and I get to look across the backs of those in front of me to the other side of the basically circular formation and notice lots of smiles.

It is not time to relax. We still have to keep our attention to the small trends in fall rate we note, using those around us as a reference, and quickly anticipate the the changes in body position we need to take to keep the formation flat and intact.

11 seconds. No waves of differing fall rates rolling across the bodies, resulting in a crack the whip like effect on the opposite side. The record. We only needed to hold it for 3 seconds, with everyone in the planned place. We got it together high enough to enjoy an extra 8 seconds of flying a “big way.”

At 5000 feet, the base begins to kick their legs, signaling the departure of the first wave of us on the outer rings of the formation. We will track away, and wait until 2500 feet to open our canopies. Subsequent groups leave in 500 foot increments, and will pull at 500 foot higher altitudes, to give each wave two dimensions, at a minimum, of separation. The base group stays together for a few more seconds, then tracks apart and opens at 2500 feet.

What next? Clear your airspace below (the low person has the right of way) and open at the assigned altitude. Commence hooting and hollering once you have a good canopy, head for a safe area to land, clearing other canopies as you need to.

Head back to the clubhouse, toss your gear on the packing mat and commence to congratulate those who did it. Smile with huge grin.

Find Sandy Wambach and tell her thanks for all her prep work to make this happen. Sandy, sadly is gone, but she was a special lady who just loved jumping and getting others together to do really big things. This was but one of many, many efforts she undertook for the love of the sport and the love of fun.

I think the record for largest formation for the state still stands.

I would have had some video clips, but have to capture them off the DVD recording from the original VHS tape. So far, my video editing software isn’t gonna cooperate, but one day…maybe the evidence will be here.

The next best part? The rest of the day to “fun jump” with lots of very experienced jumpers from all over the country.

Open trackbacks, anyone?

So, there I was…the afternoon of a day in January, 1979, on the bridge of the USS MILWAUKEE (AOR-2), moored portside to at the NATO fueling pier at Gaeta, Italy. That morning had been the Change of Command, where CAPT Arthur Page, USN, relieved CAPT Cecil Hawkins, USN. Both men aviators, both holding the position because the Navy’s leadership had confidence they would be bigger players in the organization, both men with VA (attack) communities in their past. CAPT Hawkins and A-7 Corsair II guy, CAPT Page an A-6 “bubba.” Both with real time, enemy shooting at you with bad intent experience.

CAPT Hawkins was the kind of man who was all around the ship…out of a genuine curiosity of what made it go, in terms of men, equipment and procedures developed for at-sea logistics delivery. CAPT Page, well, we were still getting a read on him that day, but a strikingly similar method of leading us was emerging.

CAPT Hawkins loved to be involved in the ship handling process. He was out on the bridge wing, looking at the goings on below forward and midships, with an ear towards the phone talkers for news from way back aft. He spoke the desired actions for line handling, tug work and engine speeds/rudder angles, but in the sense of being one of the minds engaged, and open to supporting commentary, especially from the “Black Shoe” XO, CDR Dave Martin, in matters of precision in the seamanship world. It was an easy interaction, with no feeling of oppression by the ultimate authority aboard the vessel. I had been assigned as the Conning Officer for the detail this day. LCDR Mike Hunt, aka “The Grey Fox,” a “mustang” officer, the Ship’s 1st Lieutenant, with a life at sea in the world of the Deck department was the Officer of the Deck.

CAPT Hawkins had been sent ashore with appropriate honors, we ate lunch and were called to our Sea and Anchor Detail stations by the 1MC shortly thereafter. On to the bridge we went, and Mike and I had a plan. We stood on the Bridge Wing and felt the direction of the wind on our face. With tide and current data, we continued the rest of the preparations.

CAPT Page arrived on the Bridge, a stack of messages in his hand. Transiting to the starboard side of the Bridge, he climbed into his chair, looked my direction and asked “What’s the plan?” That question set me back, but only because I was so used to CAPT Hawkins being pretty involved in all such evolutions. Nonetheless, Mike and I briefed the new Skipper with “The Plan.”

As the preparations progressed and it was about time to move, I shifted to the starboard bridge wing, with Mike dutifully monitoring the events and my actions. The time and conditions of readiness and pilot onboard, tugs made up arrvied and we were granted permission by the CO to get underway.

Within seconds of taking in the last line, it was apparent that the effects of the currents and wind had us going the opposite of the movement we had surmised. We were not moving fast, but to the trained eye, the motion was easily recognized…and it would lead to, if not countered, taking us somewhere a 30 foot draft vessel should not be, if all concerned wanted to keep the service record free from letters recording errors of judgment and an accounting of unfunded/unplanned expenditures of taxpayers dollars.

CAPT Page, still in the Pilot House, attentive to the evolution, as, as I would learn, a quite experienced ship handler in his own right, was doing what he did. Different from CAPT Hawkins, but eminently worthwhile, he was being “the head safety observer.”

Mike stood over my shoulder, quietly using his refined “seaman’s eye” to assess the situation, then said: “It is a foolish man who sticks with a plan, just because it is the plan.” Wise words, indeed. We quickly reformulated, he went and briefed “the new guy” and got the nod.

Off we sailed, safely, with no reports other than the routine and expected, into the Med, to continue our support of US and NATO ships plying the seas in defense of the Free World.

Personal lessons learned were at a high water mark, so being “processed” years later, but many being quite memorable that very day.The Perfect Storm movie

When Tom Burnett Sr. was helping to pick a memorial to Flight 93, he objected vehemently to the planting of a huge Islamic shaped crescent on the crash site. The Project asked if he would be okay with the Crescent of Embrace design if they didn’t call it a crescent. He said no way:

What the hell? You change words. A pig is a pig!

No doubt about that.

“How about if we don’t CALL it a crescent?” (Click pic for larger image)

See that Memorial Plaza that is situated roughly in the position of the star on an Islamic crescent and star flag? It marks the crash site. It doesn’t have to be CALLED an Islamic star for this placement as the star on an Islamic flag to be inappropriate.

Mountain Goat and the 44 blocks

From PJ Country comes news of the Memorial Project’s latest effort to help architect Paul Murdoch adjust the disguise on his terrorist memorializing design, just enough for him to slip through gate security.

“Mountain Goat” called the Memorial Project a few weeks ago to ask about the 44 inscribed translucent blocks that are to be emplaced along the flight path. (There were 40 heroes and 4 terrorists on the flight.)

The person he spoke to said that the three translucent marble blocks that were to be inscribed with the 9/11 date are going to be replaced with a single block, “roughly the length three of the other blocks would have been.”

That would reduce the block count from 44 to 42, but would it actually fix anything?

Whether the 9/11 date is inscribed on three blocks or one, these blocks are to be built into a separate section of Memorial Wall that is centered on the bisector of the giant crescent. That is the exact position of the star on an Islamic crescent and star flag. Thus the date goes to the Islamic flag–the date goes to the terrorists–no matter how many blocks are used.

See that trail that enters the Memorial Plaza (the star on the flag) from the left? It divides the Memorial Wall into separate upper and lower sections. The upper section has the 9/11 date inscribed. You can see that this upper section of wall is centered on the bisector of the giant crescent (the exact position of an Islamic star). Click for larger image.

End it, don’t mend it

No amount of tweaking the design can alter its terrorist memorializing intent. “Fix” every one of the half dozen large scale terrorist memorializing features in the design by making them all a little bit “off,” and it only establishes the long term Islamo-fascist goal of one day restoring the Crescent mosque to its intended configuration, the same way the jihadists now use re-possession of the al-Aqsa mosque in Jerusalem (the Dome of the Rock) as a motivation driving the Jews out of Israel.

Most ridiculous of all is the Bowl of Embrace redesign, which leaves every particle of the original Crescent of Embrace design completely intact, only adding some surrounding trees. http://i191.photobucket.com/albums/z36/AlecRawls/CrescentandBowlstacked65.jpg “Here, put on this burka, then you can sneak your bomb on board the airplane.”

The proper answer, when someone is caught trying to sneak an Islamo-fascist plot through gate security, is not to tell him to go back outside and try again. It is to cart him away.

If you want to join us outraged protesting bloggers

1. in objecting to planting an Islamic symbol instead of an American one on the crash site,
2. in objecting to its pointing to Mecca and the terrorists’ intended target,
3. in objecting to dishonoring the memory of the people who fought the terrorists on Flight 93
4. in pointing out how Paul Murdoch cleverly and symbolically cast the passenger and crew out of the Islamic heavens in the design while the terrorists are inside the Islamic heavens
5. in pointing out how the date and the site are dedicated to the terrorists
6. in pointing out the numerous redundant mosque design features
7. in pointing out the terrorist memorializing features
8. and post along with us on Wednesdays,

please contact caoilfhionn1 at gmail dot com with your website url. She will, in turn, add you to the email list, send you the blogroll code (if you want to put it in your sidebar), and will send you the prewritten text to post. You should receive the email from Cao a day or two prior to the Wednesday it should be posted, and tracked back to Cao’s blog and Error Theory, if your blog has that capability. This will help us track who in the blogroll is posting the blogburst.

Stop the Memorial Blogburst

Tracked back @: Cao’s Blog

Posting, sadly, may be light, but hopefully not “lit,” for the next time span undetermined.

Fires, you know…are not just bad for pilots while airborne…

Someone had to test it….

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It’s not in English, but…when they hold up the < href=”http://www.icaruscanopies.aero/main.htm”>Icarus VX-39 canopy, it’s the one Luigi is jumping…

That number, 39, you ask? Stands for 39 square feet of surface area….if you must know.

Once I “trusted” my life to a “square” in the late 70’s, my first one was a 230 sq ft “Strato-Cloud.” Went to a 200 Sq Ft Pegasus, then a 150 sq ft Performance Designs Sabre 150 and (so far) ended with a Sabre 120. When I made that transition, I was doing about 160+ jumps/year and I was loading the wing up nicely, thank you. Exit weight was…how shall I say this…more than the “tail tag” said, but I flew it well and have no injuries, or even close calls, because of problems handling the canopy to discuss as a result.

Parachute technology in the civilian sector has come a long way since guys with hot knifes and a few C-9 (28 ft diameter) surplus military parachutes (still with lines, they didn’t chop them off back then) could slice out a few panels to see how they flew. My first “owned” parachute was in fact, a C-9, formerly white, but dyed maroon by the prior owner.

When “squares” appeared in the mid-70s, they had 5 “cells” (chambers). Most jumpers today have 9 cell canopies, but the “extreme” jumpers, who love the “swoop,” some of them use 21 cell versions, to get a thinner wing, and more “stiffness,” to generate better lift and speed. Some canopies have air locks, which, once the air is rammed in during the opening sequence to shape the cell, is trapped within, also providing a stiffer wing to the air, with improved performance.

“We” have come a long, baby!

Oh, and when you’re bored with your canopy’s performance, then you can strap on a “wingsuit” and have a “come to Jesus” experience…

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Helicopter not included…

SUX.

After Fight, Airport Embraces SUX Code
AP
Posted: 2007-10-22 11:37:56
Filed Under: Nation News
SIOUX CITY, Iowa (Oct. 21) – City leaders have scrapped plans to do away with the Sioux Gateway Airport’s unflattering three-letter identifier – SUX – and instead have made it the centerpiece of the airport’s new marketing campaign.

The code, used by pilots and airports worldwide and printed on tickets and luggage tags, will be used on T-shirts and caps sporting the airport’s new slogan, “FLY SUX.” It also forms the address of the airport’s redesigned Web site – www.flysux.com.

Sioux City officials petitioned the Federal Aviation Administration to change the code in 1988 and 2002. At one point, the FAA offered the city five alternatives – GWU, GYO, GYT, SGV and GAY – but airport trustees turned them down.
[…]

Talk about making lemonade out of lemons…

Heh!

Note: Don’t forget to go back in time (one day, anyhow) to catch Eagle1’s Sinking of the Albermarle Sunday Ship History entry.

Attack on Island Nr 10I can’t find a picture of him, yet two ships have gone to sea for our Navy to honor him: LT John Vincent Johnston:

ohn Vincent Johnston of Cincinnati, Ohio, entered the United States Navy in September 1861 as First Master in gunboat St. Louis. He assisted in the Union gunboat attacks that captured strategic Fort Henry on the Tennessee River 6 February 1862. The night of 1 April 1862 he was the Navy commander of a combined Army-Navy boat expedition from St. Louis, Missouri which landed and spiked the guns of Fort No. 1 above the Confederate stronghold, Island No. 10. He was promoted to Acting Volunteer Lieutenant for gallantry in this expedition. After joining in the bombardments of Vicksburg, Miss., he took command of Forest Rose to patrol the Mississippi River and its tributaries. On 15 February 1864 his gunboat repelled the attack of confederate raiders, saving the town of Waterproof, La., and its federal garrison. Lt. Johnston resigned from the naval service 23 June 1864 and died 23 April 1912 at St. Louis, Mo.

The first ship named in LT Johnston’s honor was DD-557, a unit of the FLETCHER Class. Commissioned in Seattle, WA on Oct 27th, 1943, he commissioning skipper, LCDR Earnest Evans said this:

“This is going to be a fighting ship. I intend to go in harm’s way, and anyone who doesn’t want to go along had better get off right now.”

She was. Her lifespan was was one year and two days, but left a mark the most significant battle fought by the US Navy.

Enroute this day with destiny, the USS JOHNSTON (DD-557) got right into the thick of things. From the Ship’s Wikipedia entry:

During the Marshall Islands campaign 3 months later, Johnston bombarded the beaches at Kwajalein 1 February 1944, and made a 5-day bombardment of Eniwetok 17–22 February. She gave direct support to invasion troops there, destroying several pillboxes and taking revetments along the beach under fire. En route to patrol duty in the Solomons 28 March 1944, she bombarded Kapingamarangi Atoll in the Carolines. An observation tower, several blockhouses, pillboxes and dugouts along the beach were shelled. Two days later she came into the mouth of the Maririca River, southeast of Empress Augusta Bay, Bougainville, Solomon Islands. After laying a heavy barrage into that area, she took up antisubmarine patrol off Bougainville. During this duty 15 May 1944, she depth charged and sank the Japanese submarine I-176.

After 3 months of patrol in the Solomons, Johnston sailed to the Marshall Islands to prepare for the invasion and capture of Guam in the Marianas. On 21 July 1944 she teamed up with that Pearl Harbor “ghost”, the battleship Pennsylvania, to bombard Guam. The destroyer had sent in more than 4,000 rounds of shells by 29 July. Her accurate gunfire shattered the enemy 4 inch battery installations, numerous pillboxes and buildings. Johnston next helped protect escort carriers providing air support for the invasion and capture of the Palau Islands.

Following those operations, USS JOHNSTON prepared to support the landing at Leyte Gulf of Genearl MacArthur.

On Oct 25th, 1944, the USS JOHNSTON (DD-557), as part of the “Taffy 3” task force, would make her indelible mark on history:

For the first 20 minutes, Johnston was helpless as the enemy cruisers and battleships had her in range. But the destroyer’s 5 inch guns could not yet reach them. Not waiting for orders, Commander Ernest E. Evans breaks defensive formation, and goes on the offensive by ordering Johnston to speed directly towards the enemy—first a line of seven destroyers, next one light and three heavy cruisers, then the four battleships. To the east appeared three other cruisers and several destroyers. Amazingly, the enemy gunners could not score a hit on Johnston.

And from the Battle off Samar entry:

Concerned about the splashes of incoming fire, Lieutenant Commander Ernest E. Evans, skipper of the destroyer USS Johnston, which was the closest to the attackers, suddenly took the initiative to order his ship to “flank speed, full left rudder,” ordering Johnston to directly attack the greatly superior oncoming Japanese ships on his own in what would appear to be a suicidal mission.

The Johnston was a relatively small and unarmored destroyer, completely unequipped to fight Japanese battleships and cruisers. Designed to fight other destroyers and torpedo boats, she was armed with only five 5 inch (127 mm) guns and multiple anti-aircraft weapons which were ineffective against an armored battleship. Only the Johnston’s 10 Mark-15 torpedoes could be effective, but they had to be launched well within range of enemy gunfire.

Weaving to avoid shells, and steering towards splashes, the Johnston approached the Japanese heavy cruiser Kumano for a torpedo run. When Johnston was 10 miles (17 km) from Kumano, her 5 inch (127 mm) guns rained shells on Kumano’s bridge and deck (where they could do some damage – the shells would simply bounce off the enemy ship’s armored hull). Johnston closed to within torpedo range and fired a salvo, which blew the bow off the cruiser squadron flagship Kumano and also took the cruiser Suzuya out of the fight as she stopped to assist.

From seven miles (11 km) away, the battleship Kongo sent a 14 inch shell through the Johnston’s deck and engine room. Johnston’s speed was cut in half to only 14 knots (26 km/h), while the aft gun turrets lost all electrical power. Then three 6-inch shells, possibly from Yamato’s secondary batteries, struck Johnston’s bridge, killing many and wounding Comdr. Evans. The bridge was abandoned, and Evans steered the ship from the aft steering column. Evans nursed his ship back towards the fleet, when he saw the other destroyers attacking as well. Emboldened by the Johnston’s attack, Sprague gave the order “small boys attack”, sending the rest of Taffy 3’s destroyers on the assault. Even in her heavily damaged state, damage-control teams restored power to 2 of the 3 aft turrets, and Evans turned the Johnston around and re-entered the fight.

At the end of the morning, the USS JOHNSTON was lost, but the Japanese knew they had had a worthy opponent in LCDR Evans and his crew. The ship received a Presidential Unit Citation and six battle stars in her short time at sea.

The second ship to be named for Lt Johnston was the USS JOHNSTON (DD-821) of the GEARING Class. She was commissioned in Aug, 1946. This USS JOHNSTON served in the Atlantic Fleet, and was strkien from US Navy records in 1981 and finally transferred to the Republic of China’s Navy.

Oct 22, 1797… The modern parachute is born as Andre-Jacques Garnerin makes the 1st human parachute descent from the air. Garnerin jumps from a hydrogen balloon at a height of 2,300 feet in Paris.

Hmmmmm….the development of a safety system for inherently dangerous modes of travel that defy gravity.

Now, just look at how it’s no longer the domain of surplus C-9 28′ canopies modified by a few brave and adventurous souls with hot knifes, but an industry of it’s own.

Heading north (actually NE) on I-275, heading into Tampa late yesterday, I hear a loud roaring and see a brownish smoke plume up ahead on the left. As I got closer, I looked left between the two buildings framing the south end of the St Pete International Airport and see three tail pipes of F-104 Starfighters, in a V-Formation set to roll. The flames from the flight lead’s afterburner still showing.

And me without the tools to make sure you don’t think this is but another “sea story.”

Quicksand film