Going eyeball to eyeball with th

It was Sunday afternoon, early in the month of August, 1968 when USS Forrestal (CVA-59) was making her way through the Western Mediterranean during the first days of a 7-month cruise. I was Officer of the Deck (OOD) on the 1200 – 1600 bridge watch, there were no ship’s evolutions ongoing, and things looked like a “ho-hum” Sunday afternoon at sea.

We were hosting the Prospective Commanding Officer (PCO) of USS Independence and our CO had gone with him to the Captain’s In-Port Cabin. Prior to departing the bridge, the CO and I had conversed briefly and one of the subjects breeched was that we had been in the Mediterranean for more than a week now and we had not yet seen one of those pesky Russian trawlers. Our Navy had come to hope not to see one because they had a way of getting in the way whenever we had things to do, such as flight operations, or underway replenishment. This lack of encounter was about to change.

At about 1500 I called the CO to advise him that we had picked up an unidentified surface contact on radar, range 22,000 yards (11 nautical miles). It appeared to be on our reciprocal course at a speed of 8 knots and in the absence of any changes, the closest point of approach (CPA) would be 6,000 yards on our port beam.

“Very Well” and the customary “Thanks, Frenchy” constituted the CO’s response.

I had no more than hung up the phone when the contact changed course. I could identify 2 sticks (masts) over the horizon, looking through the 7X50 OOD standard equipment Bausch & Lomb’s, but could make out nothing of the vessel. However, the two sticks bore a strong re semblance to the pictures we had on the bridge of known trawlers that had frequented these waters.

I called the Captain back to advise him that the unidentified contact had indeed made a 90-degree course change, was still doing 8 knots, and his present course/speed would take him across our bow at 6,000 yards (3 miles). We were doing 20 knots, on some kind of a “sustained speed exercise” for the engineers, and preferred to alter neither course nor speed unless absolutely necessary. I advised the Captain of my suspicions concerning the vessel’s identity and advised him that I had ordered the Intelligence Sighting Team to the bridge.

It being a Sunday stand down with little to occupy the idle time, we soon had the entire Intelligence staff scattered about on the bridge and the signal bridge, with a few photo types thrown in. The contact was still hull-down over the horizon but the visible masts more and more took on the resemblance of our Russian trawler pictures. I also advised the Captain that, in accordance with the International Rules of the Road, Forrestal was the privileged vessel; the vessel crossing our bow was coming from our port side and was therefore the “burdened” vessel. In accordance with the Rules, the privileged vessel is REQUIRED to maintain course and speed. The burdened vessel is responsible for maneuvering as necessary to avoid collision.

The Captain said “Very Well, call me back if he does anything funny, and let me know what the intelligence folks come up with.”

Only moments later I was back on the phone, advising the Captain that we had positive ID on a Russian ELINT (Electronics Intelligence) trawler, and he had indeed done something “funny” – He had reached our intended track at a range of 6,000 yards, and had then executed another 90-degree turn to port; he was now on the same course as Forrestal, dead ahead, at speed 8 knots. So we had a 12-kt speed advantage, and 3 miles to contact.

That meant that in 15 minutes one or the other of us must turn or he, the Russian trawler, would get run over.

I advised the Captain that in accordance with the International Rules, he was burdened when he came in from our port bow. Now that we are on a course to overtake him, he would like us to believe that Forrestal, as the overtaking vessel, is the newly ordained BURDENED vessel. I reminded the Captain of another clause in the rules that says once a vessel is burdened, it may not maneuver to shift the burden to the other vessel. He stays burdened until danger of collision is past.

The Captain agreed with my assessment and asked what I recommended we do. I recommended we hold course and speed until “In Extremis” – that sketchy point at which somebody has to do something or there’s going to be a crunch, then order up “All Back Emergency Full,” “Right Full Rudder,” and we would miss him. I had identified that point as 400 yards astern but threw in 100 yards for cushion.

The Captain once more came back with his cheerful “Very Well” and added, “If he’s still there at 1,000 yards, give me a call back.”

“AYE AYE, Sir!”

Now we’ve eaten up about 1/3 of our cushion and the squawk box came to life.

“Bridge, Flag Bridge. When does Forrestal intend to maneuver to avoid that privileged vessel ahead?” (from the Flag Bridge.)

There was no race by other members of the bridge team to answer that one, so I got it myself.

“Flag Bridge, Bridge -This is the Officer of the Deck speaking. That vessel ahead is not privileged – he approached from our port side, therefore is the burdened vessel, and he can no longer maneuver to shift his burden to Forrestal.”

“Flag Bridge Aye!”

I could envision some hot shot flag watch officer digging the Admiral’s shoe out of his ass, and smiled inwardly. I didn’t hear the Admiral’s voice, but I knew he was watching from his favorite perch.

Somewhere about then I had the Signal Gang close up flag “Uniform” on both halyards – “U” is the international signal that says “You are standing into danger.”

Then our Navigator got into it. First he told me I was going to have to turn the ship and he was working on our new course. Since he was a commander and I was a lieutenant, I explained as tactfully as I could that we were not going to turn, leastways not to a pre-planned course. We were the privileged vessel, and as such, were REQUIRED to hold course and speed.

Next thing I heard from him was, “Mr. Corbeille, I’m ordering you to turn this ship.”

With no attempt at tact, I advised him;

“Commander, you cannot order me to turn this ship.

If you believe the ship to be sufficiently endangered, you, as Navigator, can summarily relieve me as OOD. Then you can turn left, turn right, or come dead in the water. But you cannot order me to turn.

Do you want to relieve me?”

Rather truculently, he then asked if the Captain knew about all this. I told him yes indeed, and at contact range of 1,000 yards, I was to notify the Captain again.

“You better call him again – right now!”

“No Sir, we still have a few hundred yards to go.”

At this stage, I don’t recall the exact time, the bridge relief crew was coming on deck, but no one was ready to be relieved. I spied my relief OOD waiting in the wings and he wanted nothing more than to stay out of the way.

Admittedly, I got a bit nervous, and I called the Captain back when the trawler was 1,100 yards ahead. His only response was, “I’m on my way up.” He arrived momentarily with the PCO of Independence following in his wake. He hopped up in his chair and said, “Boy, he is pretty close, isn’t he?” Then he asked, “And when do you plan to make your big move?” I told him that if it closes to 500 yards, we can order up All Back Emergency Full, Right Full Rudder, and we will miss him.

He asked: "Is that what the book says?"

I told him, “No Sir, The book says 400 yards, but I was leaving in a little cushion."

He said, “We need only to maneuver in extremis to MINIMIZE DAMAGE."

That is a slight departure from international rules, but was our standing order, arrived at specifically to contend with harassment vessels. This is kind of a delicate point here because International Rules of the Road says the “privileged vessel must maneuver when in extremis to avoid collision.” The USSR (Soviet Union) was not signatory to the International Rules of the Road, therefore her vessels were not bound by them. It must be pointed out that Russian ships, merchantmen and men-of-war alike, followed the international rules of the road anyway, and knew them well enough to “play chicken” with U.S. ships, mostly to our embarrassment. That was a game that our Navy had long since tired of, hence the new guidance to maneuver only in extremis to minimize damage.

Naturally, it behooved one to be absolutely certain that he was absolutely right, if he were going to take a Navy man-of-war down to the wire in a potential collision situation. I’m sure there are readers who have more background concerning our maneuvering instructions, but we believed we understood them perfectly. I still believe that we did.

Having thus indicated his intentions, the Captain then asked, “So how close can we take her?” I told him 400 yards would provide a grazing situation, and then ordered the engine room to stand by for Emergency Backing Bells.

We were still closing and had reached the 500-yard mark when the trawler put in left full rudder. His rudder was not the size of a barn door – it had to have looked like the side of the barn itself! That guy turned 90 degrees left in a heartbeat! We never flinched, never wavered, and the trawler passed close aboard to port – so close, if fact, that the hull was not visible alongside our flight deck. All that was visible from the vantage point of our bridge were the two masts as they went rapidly down our port beam. Then we launched a helo for some photo work and a big sigh of relief went up from the bridge.

The Navigator started lobbying for us to file a harassment report, but since we had altered neither course nor speed to accommodate the trawler, it was hard to make a case for harassment. I wanted to make out a harassment report on the Navigator but the CO calmed me down on that score. The Prospective Commanding Officer (PCO) of Independence, bless his soul, took in the whole affair after arriving on the bridge with our Captain, and never interjected one word. When it was all over, he moved directly in front of me and said, loud enough for almost everybody on the bridge to hear, “No one could have done better.”

Our CO joined right in and said “Frenchy, you handled that perfectly.”

At that point I realized I wasn’t going to be a lieutenant forever, my advice to the Captain had been sound, and I knew our Captain appreciated it. My breathing gradually returned to normal.

For his part, Captain Hill, for that, as I recall, was his name, went on to become CO USS Independence. He assumed command while anchored in some Sicilian Bay, and when Independence stood out to sea “under new management,” there was a Russian ELINT trawler, just outside territorial waters, making slight way on Independence’s intended track. A friend serving on that fine vessel told me that the new CO’s order to CIC was “Combat, give me a collision course on that trawler at 30 knots!” I heard the same refrain from several other people and I believe it to be what happened.

For our part, we spent the remainder of our cruise unhampered in any way by a new Russian flagged ship. We continued to see an occasional trawler, but when we came into the wind to launch and recover aircraft, they vanished as if by magic. The word seemed to have leaked out that this carrier has an attitude problem – he’ll run right over you! And the Chief Engineer was happy because he got his uninterrupted 4-hour sustained speed run at 20 knots.

Life was not the same for me after that. Our Captain made me “Command Duty Officer Underway.” I was already the General Quarters OOD and Sea and Anchor Detail OOD, so I wasn’t sure what this new designation would lead to. I soon learned that I was to be on the bridge whenever Forrestal was in formation with other major combatants, (destroyers didn’t count, but cruisers did), and that I was to provide training to all prospective Command Duty Officers. Anytime there was underway replenishment, there was a “formation,” so I got to spend a lot of valuable time on the bridge, learning all I could absorb. Our great Captain, nameless up to now, was Robert Bemus Baldwin, born in Bismarck, North Dakota. He was promoted to RADM upon leaving Forrestal, and the last time I spoke with him he was Vice Admiral Baldwin, COMNAVAIRPAC. I believe he lives in or near San Diego, and remains the most admired man of my 30-plus year Navy career.

CAPT R. CLAUDE CORBEILLE, USN (RET)
Castle Rock, State of Washington


	A TRUE STORY OF THE SEA by Rear Admiral C. A. Hill, Jr., USN (Ret) 1 October 2005 Prologue: Under the heading of "Jousting With Ivan" William Hartley, a staff reporter for The Wall Street Journal recorded his impressions of life with the U.S. Sixth Fleet during July of 1968 with a special front page story to his newspaper (published July 2, 1968) while aboard USS INDEPENDENCE, the aircraft carrier which I commanded at the time, flying the flag of Rear Admiral Larry Geis commander of Carrier Task Force 60.1. It was an approved visit by the Department of Defense and coincident with a group of German TV reporters visiting from West Berlin at a time that city was still divided and which had been approved by the State Department as well. Hartley's Story: It begins with a description of how the interference of a small Soviet shadowing "vessel" in the path of INDEPENDENCE is forced to give way by the acts of the ship's commanding officer. In his own words Hartley writes "Capt. 'Mark' Hill, (using my nickname), the carrier's commander, exclaims angrily 'Maritime rules of the road give him the right of way, but this has happened before.' 'Sharply, he orders right rudder and jumps the speed from 15 knots to 25 knots. Swinging into the wind, the ponderous carrier bears down on the stranger. Alarmed, the second skipper backs his vessel off, the water churning at his stern. The INDEPENDENCE straightens course and glides past the smaller vessel. Navy deck-hands staring down from the carrier's lofty deck." Further on in his narrative Hartley quotes Vice Admiral Bill Martin, then commander of the Sixth Fleet, speaking with reference to the Soviet Navy's tactics saying "sometimes they shadow, other times they are more arrogant. Their sea manners at times are atrocious and at other times they obey the rules of the road." Then this. "Capt. Hill thinks the sea manners of a Soviet guided missile destroyer's skipper leave something to be desired. Not long ago, (that) destroyer, cruising off the beam of INDEPENDENCE, suddenly shot forward and turned to port in front of the big ship." Such a maneuver is roughly equivalent to a small automobile passing a truck on the right and then undertaking a left turn. It is perilous but Capt. Hill doesn't allow himself to be intimidated. 'A couple of times I've turned into him at high speed,' he says. 'He seems to have a good sense of not only how to turn to avoid, but how to turn back to get into the same relative position. He's a fairly expert seaman.'" Mr. Hartley goes on to write "The day after making that statement, Capt. Hill found the Russian destroyer between the INDEPENDENCE and an old weather balloon the carrier had tossed into the water for target practice. INDEPENDENCE gunners had finished one salvo; the Soviet ship suddenly barged in. As the carrier swung around to maneuver the Russian ship out of the target range, a mustachioed sailor in the corner of the bridge muttered, 'Hell, just shoot it skipper.' Most of the time, though, the Americans ignore their Russian companions. 'We don't even report range and bearing to him anymore,' jokingly says one young officer on the bridge. Just 'on station.'" [Departing now from the foregoing text I must point out that in frequent talks with William Hartley I explained my reasoning and methods of operating with due regard to the nautical rules of the road. Most importantly those rules were written to be followed by ships underway in peaceful transit to avoid interference on the high seas where variations in courses and speeds were at the whim of the navigator. They were not intended to control intentional harassment With the advent of the aircraft carrier a special rule gave that ship the right-of-way when the signal flag "Foxtrot" was two-blocked at the yardarm to indicate launching or recovering aircraft. With "Foxtrot" hoisted at the dip while the carrier is maneuvering to come into the wind courtesy demands that other ships give it a wide berth as it may also be turning in reaction to an emergency where time is of the essence. All the foregoing not withstanding, should any maneuver result in a collision the bottom line is that it is better off to have been the "privileged" as opposed to the "burdened" vessel.] Although not mentioned in William Hartley's column the West Berlin TV crew had a field day in photographing the many times the Soviet shadows were close aboard. Prior to their departure their leader came up to the bridge to thank me for all the support they had received from the crew and presented me with a gold coin the size of our quarter with the German eagle stamped on one side and the coat of arms of the city of Berlin on the other. While so doing he said that, in their view, I was now a Berliner. The sequel -- A twice told tale never before printed: It was shortly after dawn on Sunday morning the 18^th of August in 1968 with INDEPENDENCE in the Mediterranean Sea west of Malta and South of the Ionian Sea. Preparations had already commenced on the flight deck for the day's exercises and I had stepped on the bridge from the sea cabin to take my first look around having been kept advised during the night by the officer of the deck of our Soviet "shadow's" whereabouts - the small Russian trawler that had been following us for several days following our departure from Istanbul. The change that had occurred during the night, of which I had been informed, was quite out of the ordinary. We had become used to the trawler which represented no threat but now we had a Soviet guided missile cruiser, Sverdlov Class, in its place and keeping station on us fairly close aboard. Although the trawler could get in our way from time to time, now it was like having a gnat replaced by a spider. The sea state was calm with a wind force of not more than ten knots from an easterly direction which permitted us to launch and recover our aircraft with no more than fifteen knots of speed. The day's flight schedule and the Task Force Operation Order did not involve anything out of the normal routine for a Sunday at sea, although the presence of a major Soviet man o' war did lend some interest at the outset. USS INDEPENDENCE CV-62 was the flagship for the Sixth Fleet's Task Force 60.1, flying the two star flag of its commander, Rear Admiral Larry Geis. In the events that followed Larry Geis was an interested observer and participant from his position on the flag bridge directly below the navigation bridge where I was sitting. I had been given tactical command by the Admiral which included the screening destroyers, one of which had informed me by signal that he was unable to exceed sixteen knots due to a boiler repair situation then in progress. At fifteen knots that presented no problem at the time. The first launch, as I recall, was eighteen aircraft with a combination of fighter and attack following which we turned downwind while the Soviet cruiser that had been trailing us at about 1000 yards aft of the stern on the starboard side, outboard of the plane guard destroyer, turned with us then taking station ahead. A little more than an hour later I turned right to head into the wind for the second launch and first recovery in conformance with the day's schedule, while the Soviet cruiser turned and then trailed once more aft on the starboard side. It was now midmorning and when the Russian sailors in their dress blues suddenly poured out onto the weather deck of their ship it was apparent that their Sunday routine was to hold an inspection of all hands. Admiral Geis called me from his bridge to make certain that I had also made the same observation and then just simply said "let's take a closer look." Having completed the launch I knew that I had to remain at fifteen knots until completion of the recovery but I reasoned that I could mask any increase in speed by making a wide turn to the right while simultaneously going ahead full speed. That way I could steady on a reverse course with at least a ten knot advantage over the Russian. As the last plane was trapped that is the way it worked out. My Officer of the deck was Lieutenant Doug Bury and the senior "OD" from length of service in that capacity, while my man at the wheel was my best helmsman. At the speed we had reached during the turn not more than five degrees of rudder could be used to settle on the reverse course. Otherwise the wall of water built up on the starboard side as we turned would heel the ship over to port, causing the flight deck to tilt to the left excessively, hazarding the aircraft then being re-spotted following the recovery. The Russian cruiser had reversed course as well to maintain his relative position with INDEPENDENCE and as we approached his bearing from us I instructed LT Bury to steady on a collision course. As a result of the transfer during the wide turn when we steadied-on, the Soviet cruiser was dead ahead of us on the downwind leg. The Russian Captain immediately sensed the closing rate as a glance at the pit log showed we were then passing 25 knots. [As a result of taking command of INDEPENDENCE a few months prior to the completion of an eleven month overhaul in the Norfolk Naval Shipyard I was fortunate to take her through rigorous sea trials not unlike those demanded of new construction ships prior to acceptance for the fleet. Therefore I had the utmost confidence in my engineering plant having had to complete a six hour full power run in a heavy sea off the Virginia Capes proving that she met her design capability of exceeding 32 knots at a steady state while developing 320,000 horsepower, or some 14% more than initial specifications for her GE turbines. Further, as a result of the equally rigorous training enforced by the Fleet Training Group in Guantanamo I knew that my engineers were as good as their power plant. Nevertheless I saw fit to call the Engineering Officer of the Watch to let him know that we were in a race with a Soviet cruiser and to keep all engine rooms on their toes.] Despite the cruiser's increase in speed we continued to gain on him, a fact also noted by the Admiral who saw fit to question my intentions by saying "you're not going to hit him are you?" "No, I replied, I am taking an approach course as if we were going to replenish but I will open gradually to the right to pass well beyond heaving line range." By this time several things had occurred. The Soviet cruiser's crew had broken ranks and were lined up along the starboard side to watch what was now very clearly a race, while my flight deck crew doing the re-spot had chocked their aircraft where they were and had lined up along the port side of the flight deck to do the same. The pit log indicated that we had reached 29 knots and without any signal between the flagship and the Destroyer skipper that had reported a boiler deficiency it was noted that he had not lost so much as a degree in his position in the screen, obviously wishing to remain very much a part of the game. Then Doug Bury, my Officer of the Deck, said simply "Captain, I request to be relieved of the deck!" I immediately assented by announcing "I have the conn!" By ordering a slight change of course to the right still well before overlap I was being consistent with international rules of the road as I was the burdened vessel and as long as the Russian maintained course and speed he was privileged. At that point there were two people, and only two who understood what was in the other's mind - the Russian Captain and the American Captain. The former couldn't face having his crew looked down upon from some sixty feet above his weather deck by the American crew and the latter was not about to let him save face - as long as we were both acting in accordance with the international rules of the road. Then with my eyes fixed on the Soviet Cruiser I watched as his stack began to belch heavy black smoke. I knew immediately that he had suffered a blower failure and there would be no way that he could maintain his speed under the circumstances. Still slightly ahead of me I was startled when he broke the rules for the privileged vessel by starting a turn to the right in an effort to cross ahead just before overlap without reckoning with my "blind distance overhang" - which for INDEPENDENCE was 693 feet. As he started to disappear from my view from the bridge I knew that I could not turn left without hitting him. Since the rule in extremis when all else fails is to turn right my order to the helm was to come right with no more than three degrees of rudder to avoid damage to the aircraft on deck. In a matter of seconds after the Soviet Cruiser disappeared from my view the Russian Captain saw that he wasn't going to make it before he got sliced in half as a result of my gradual turn to the right. He ordered his rudder hard left reversing his course away from me and reappeared from under my bow headed outbound, perpendicular to my course. With no reduction in the speed that he could then make he steamed through the destroyer screen to the horizon where he remained. The only comment that I received from Admiral Geis was "you taught him a lesson that he won't forget." It was only a day later that a classified message was received alerting the Sixth Fleet that the first Soviet troops had crossed the border into Czechoslovakia in advance of the some 500,000 troops that followed on August 20, 1968, putting an end to what is now known as "the Prague Spring." Then we knew why the Soviet Cruiser was there. Epilogue: I have thought many times about what the international reaction would have been had we collided with regard to the invasion of Czechoslovakia. Would the elimination of a Soviet cruiser sent to neutralize the flagship of a major unit of the Sixth Fleet, guarding the southern flank of NATO, been enough to keep the Soviets restrained from military action at that crucial time? Would they have concluded that we had advance notice of their plans and paused to rethink their strategy? And for the "nervous Nellies" that read this would they have understood that the games that went on between the Soviets at the time and our forces such as this were a very important part of our success in the cold war. The demonstration of U.S. Naval superiority in ships, aircraft and men was clearly in evidence all the time. Our interception of their big bombers in their efforts to over-fly us - always kept at a range shorter than our capability - was another example. Further, having been involved in testimony before the Congress and in writing decision documents for the highest level in the Administration on the capability of our carriers and their Air Wings I could not let the one under my command at sea, in itself a multi-billion dollar investment made by the American people, be anything less than the best example of its worth to our nation in the defense of the west. Personal Reflections: None of the foregoing would have been possible without the leadership of the late Rear Admiral Lawrence R. Geis, USN. It was his support along with the confidence that he had in me that made INDEPENDENCE an effective part of his team. If a collision had resulted he would have certainly been an interested party to any investigation at a very critical time even though the Soviet Captain's maneuver had made his ship the burdened vessel. Suffice to say that I would not have been selected for flag rank when I was had it not been for Admiral Larry Geis and what he had done for me more than once. No better example of that man's courage may be found than his attempt to save the lives of the officers and crew of the USS LIBERTY when that ship was under aggressive attack by a foreign power. That was the year before (June 8^th of 1967) with his flag on the USS AMERICA when he responded to LIBERTY's desperate call for aide by authorizing AMERICA's Captain, Don Engen, to launch fighter aircraft that could have, by their mere presence, ended any mistaken identity claim by the attackers without further bloodshed! When Secretary of Defense McNamara, by telephone, directed him to recall those aircraft he refused to comply unless ordered to do so verbally by President Johnson. When the President came on the line he ordered Admiral Larry Geis to recall our aircraft despite the full knowledge that American sailors were being killed in an unprovoked attack. Then he had no choice except to follow the orders of the Commander-in-Chief.