Sunday, April 11, 2010

Did a Japanese Midget Submarine Sink the USS Oklahoma on December 7, 1941? by Vernon Maddux


Painting of attack on USS Oklahoma. On display Oklahoma State Capital, OKC.

In the early pre-dawn hours of December 7, 1941, five Japanese Type-A midget submarines launched from their mother submarines less than 13 miles outside the entrance to Pearl Harbor. They were called the Advance Force, which planned to penetrate inside the harbor and wait to attack American ships docked in Battleship Row. When the first wave of Japanese aircraft attacks were over, the midget submarines were to torpedo capital ships and, if possible, sink one to block the narrow harbor entrance.

Fifty years earlier the United States military created a channel entrance from the Pacific Ocean into Pearl Harbor by blasting through volcanic rock to the depth of 65 ft.in the center. During the years after WWI, two anti-torpedo nets were strung across the entrance, one backing the other at the throat. Each stretched across the relatively narrow channel anchored on one shore; the anti-torpedo nets hung down 35 ft. primarily to defend against a torpedo being fired up into the harbor from outside. Workers suspended the nets on floats, which were then moved by small boats attached to the end. When ordered, sailors would power the boats across the channel. Later, a secondary intent was to prevent small submarines from entering the harbor underwater. Outside Pearl Harbor navy destroyers patrolled routinely back and forth for at least a five-mile arc centered on the channel entrance. The torpedo nets were normally open during the day but closed from nightfall to sunrise. In the early hours of Dec. 7, due to naval activities, the nets were opened at 0200 and reported closed at 0846, long after the air attack began. This provided free passage to the two Japanese midget submarines to make their way inside the harbor.


Pearl Harbor Looking southwest toward narrow harbor entrance


For years historians theorized from the little evidence available that two midget subs made it into the Harbor and fired their two 800-pound torpedoes, and that several hit the battleships USS Oklahoma and USS West Virginia, capsizing the Oklahoma. In December 2009, the discovery of a Japanese midget sub at the bottom of Pearl Harbor added fuel to the debate over whether the missile from a Japanese midget submarine was responsible for sending the battleship Oklahoma to a watery grave at the bottom of Pearl Harbor on December 7th, 1941.



For Dan Martinez, the USS Arizona Park Ranger Historian, the new discovery of a midget submarine (both torpedoes missing) on the sea bottom off the channel entrance to Pearl Harbor, provides concrete evidence that a Japanese midget submarine sunk the Oklahoma. Martinez believes the midget submarine found was dredged from the bottom of East Loch inside Pearl Harbor and dumped out at sea from wrecked ships. To Martinez, the missing torpedoes provides positive evidence that this wreck, lying in three pieces tied together by cables, was the midget submarine that appears in a famous photograph of Battleship Row; the midget sub is believed to be seen firing at the battleship Oklahoma.

As convincing as their arguments are, careful scrutiny of pictures and Japanese records provides a more accurate account of the damage the midget-subs inflicted on December 7, 1941. Such evidence suggests that the midget submarines that penetrated Pearl Harbor on that fateful day in December did not sink the USS Oklahoma or any other ship in Battleship Row.

Between 1934 and 1941, the Japanese produced at least 52 Type A midgets at the submarine base at Eta Jima, Honshu. These two-man boats displaced 46 tons, were 78 feet long and carried two 45cm (17.7") diameter, 800 lb warhead, 1000 lb torpedoes mounted in over/under tubes that made up the bow. Powered by a 600 hp electric motor, the design was capable of very high underwater speeds (about 20 knots). Its greatest drawback was its very limited range of only 50-60 miles or 5-6 hours endurance at 9-10 knots. Each boat was given alpha-numeric names in the "Ha" series (Ha-1 through Ha-52). The only known HA number of the five subs that attacked Pearl Harbor is HA-19. The Americans captured the sub intact, along with one of its crewman. The other four midgets that attacked Pearl Harbor are known generally by “M” (midget) and the number of the mother submarine.


Japanese Midget Submarines in dry dock 1946


On 19 October 1941, at headquarters, the Japanese Sixth Fleet (Submarines) staff ordered the immediate conversion of five midget submarines and five Type C-1 mother submarines for the Hawaii Operation. To upgrade the harbor-penetrating capabilities of the midget submarines, mechanics installed a more-precise pneumatically-operated steering system. Shipwrights moved 25 batteries from the forward battery room and replaced them with four air bottles to power the steering system. Test trials indicated the range at low speed was marginally increased, but maximum speed dropped from 20 to 16 knots. Each midget had a scuttling charge installed in the aft battery room, which required lighting a fuse. Each sub acquired net guards/cutters, jumping wires and propeller guards. Workers also painted over peacetime running lights and technicians fitted telephone hook-ups to connect midget and mother for communications between the two at sea. Working frantically, the engineers finished work by 10 November.

On 14 November 1941, at headquarters, Kure Naval District, Vice Admiral Shimizu Mitsumi, C-in-C, Sixth Fleet (Submarines) and his chief of staff, Captain Mito Hisashi conducted the final staff briefing for the submarine portion of the Pearl Harbor attack. They assigned submarines I-16, I-18, I-20, I-24 and I-22 to Captain Sasaki Hankyu's Special Attack Unit. Captain Arima Takayasu, the Combined Fleet's senior torpedo staff officer, briefed Sasaki and the five midget submarine officers of the Special Attack Unit on intimate details of the Hawaii Operation. The battle plan required the midget submarines to be employed only in case a major part of the U.S. Pacific Fleet was actually anchored in Pearl Harbor. They gave orders for midget submarines to penetrate the harbor as quickly as possible, then lay low until there was a lull between the first and second air strikes. After they located their targets and launched their torpedoes, they were to make their way out of Pearl Harbor and arrive at a rendezvous point 7 nautical miles ESE of Lanai Island. At this rendezvous point, Japanese ordered the mother submarines to wait only one day for the Midget sub to reconnect. Orders were to delay their departure no later than one day to midnight 8 December (9 December, Japan time). Given the massive chaos that would ensue from the Kido Butai air attack plus the dangerously shallow water of the channel, the extreme limited endurance of the midget submarines made this impossible and, therefore, a one-way mission.


Mother Subs I-24, I-16, I-20, I-18, and midget from I-24 beached.


Very early in the morning on 18 November 1941, the Special Attack Unit’s five big mother submarines cast off and departed Kure Naval Base for the Kamegakubi Naval Proving Ground. At Kamegakubi each mother submarine loaded aboard one of the top-secret two-man Type A midget submarines. That evening, Cdr Ariizumi held one last conference with the five officers aboard the flagship.

On 19 November 1941 at 0215, the five Special Attack Unit's mother submarines departed for the Hawaiian Islands with the midgets mounted on their backs. Lt Matsuo rode aboard I-22 as XO of the Special Attack Unit. When at sea the midgets’ officers briefed their enlisted men on the Hawaii Operation. The mother submarines followed generally a direct route, except to swing out 600 nautical miles around Wake and Midway islands to avoid detection by patrolling aircraft.

On 2 December 1941, the mother submarines picked up the coded signal. "Niitakayama nobore (Climb Mt. Niitaka) 1208." This broadcast came from the Combined Fleet headquarters on the Nagato. They scheduled hostilities to commence at 0800, 8 December (Japan Time).

By midnight on 7 December 1941(Hawaii Time), Japanese submarines I-68 and I-69 arrived at their patrol points a dozen miles from the entrance to Pearl Harbor. They were to attack American capital ships as they came out and rescue midget submarine crews. Closer in the five mother submarines reached their launch points about the same time.


From 0042 to 0333, the mother submarines launched their midget subs; each midget-sub carried two live Type-97 torpedoes, with an approximately 800-lb. explosive warhead, twice the amount in the Type-91 aerial torpedo. These Japanese torpedoes were fueled by oxygen, and left very little wake. Many considered the Japanese torpedoes more advanced than any of the allied forces’ torpedoes, far better than any in the US Navy.

While the Japanese Mother subs launched the midget sub in the predawn hours of December 7th, one of the duty destroyers USS Monaghan was tied up to the USS Farragut near the north side of the harbor. Patrolling outside were USS Ward and USS Helm. Patrol PBY float planes from VP-14 were also routinely airborne over Oahu.

At 0408, LT William W. Outerbridge's 22 year-old four-stack destroyer USS Ward (DD-139) was on duty off Pearl Harbor. Hard work and tedious, this sort of peace-time work was usually reserved for new captains and naval reservists. The Ward’s crew was a group of St Paul, Minnesota reserves doing their call-up. The ship searched for a suspected submarine reported in the harbor mouth area by minesweeper Condor (AMC-14). Ward roamed through the area for two hours but saw nothing.


USS Ward
At 0630, less than two hours before the attack, Ward headed back out to sea and met Training Squadron 8's flagship USS Antares (AKS-3) as it approached Pearl's outer gate nets. Antares had a gunnery target raft in tow. One of Ward’s lookouts noticed something behind the raft. He made it out to be a small conning tower following in Antares’ wake just behind the target raft. He radioed the captain. The captain, brand new, sounded general-quarters submarine attack. As the general quarters alarm echoed throughout the ship, Captain Outerbridge called for full speed and ordered the helmsman to turn the ship directly toward the submarine’s periscope. Overhead, a patrolling PBY "Catalina" flying-boat 14-P-1, flown by Ensign William P. Tanner of Patrol Squadron VP-14, responded to the radioed contact report and dropped smoke markers to mark the conning tower.

Fifteen minutes after the lookout spotted the conning tower, at 0645, Ward’s scrambling gunners were finally able to unlimber, load, point and open fire at the sub. By then the destroyer was cranking 20 knots and range was down to a point-blank 100 yards. The first 4” round - the first shot fired in anger during WWII by American Forces – was thought for decades to have missed.


In 2009, the midget was found on the bottom with two small holes punched through the conning tower.

Ward now steaming at more than 22 knots, closed to 50 yards and the gunners fired a second 4-inch shell almost straight down at the sub’s conning tower. The shell struck the base of the midget submarine's conning tower and punched a 4” hole through its left side. This explosive shell instantly killed both crewmembers. Ward continued over the submarine’s bow, which bounced around and wallowed drunkenly for a few seconds then sank out of sight. Capt. Outerbridge swung his ship hard around and ordered four depth charges to be dropped on the spot where the sub was last seen. Six minutes after opening fire on the sub, at 0651, he signaled 14th Naval District Headquarters.

WE HAVE ATTACKED FIRED UPON AND DROPPED DEPTH CHARGES
UPON SUBMARINE OPERATING IN DEFENSIVE SEA AREA.

A few miles away, Japanese Ensign Sakamaki’s midget Ha-19 had all sorts of problems as he groped in darkness toward the harbor entrance. His compass had failed and even though there were plenty of lights on the shore, he could not make out the harbor markers.

By 0700, three and a half hours after leaving the mother sub, Ha-19 reached a point probably a mile from the harbor entrance. Peering through his periscope, Sakamaki tried to maneuver into the channel entrance but was still outside when the air strikes began around 0757. When the first torpedoes and bombs began to fall, all American patrolling aircraft and warships went to full alert. Sakamaki was forced to creep away to avoid detection. By 0800, Sakamaki was raising his periscope often to navigate because Ha-19's gyro compass had failed. He continued to grope his way along the coast toward the harbor entrance using only the periscope to find his way.

At 0817, Ha-19’s periscope was spotted by USS Helm (DD-388) who opened fire on the midget submarine. The shells missed, but Sakamaki increased speed too much and too steeply dived away striking an underlying reef very hard. The sub bounced off the bottom and damaged the lower torpedo tube, net cutter and jammed the lower vertical rudder. The sub stuck to the reef.


Beached HA-19

Over the next several moments, Sakamaki and Inagaki shifted lead ballast bars from the bow back aft of the batteries. Sakamaki ran the engine full power astern and finally the sub slipped backwards off the reef. Sakamaki leveled the boat and slowly and with difficulty, turned out to sea, heading away from the harbor entrance and the relentless destroyers and patrol planes guarding the entrance.

At 6 a.m. Dec. 7, 1941, from 230 miles north of Oahu, 185 of the first wave of a two-wave attack took off from six Japanese fleet aircraft carriers, Akagi, Kaga, Hiryu, Soryu, Shokaku, Zuikaku. It was actually a remarkable testament to the ability of the Japanese mechanics. One aircraft had to turn back, the other crashed into the sea and was rescued by the duty destroyer.

Japanese attach planes

The strike force consisted of 40 Kate torpedo bombers, 51 Val dive bombers, 50 high-altitude bombers and 43 Zero fighters. Inside the lead aircraft, a Nakajima B5N2 Type 97 Model 3 “Kate” torpedo bomber, the drone of the Mitsubishi Sakae 14-cylinder radial engine was music to the ears of the strike commander, Commander Mitsuo Fuchida as the 183 warplanes strung out in tight formations behind him.

At 0740, Fuchida saw Pearl Harbor lying placidly before him. Sliding back his canopy, the strike leader fired a single green flare into the air signaling the start of the attack. Fuchida then ordered Petty Officer 1c Norinobu Mizuki to radio the signal, “Tora, Tora, Tora,” to the fleet commander, meaning the attack had begun.

Directly in front of the first torpedo planes were the USS Oklahoma (BB-37), moored in Battleship Row at mooring #7 outboard (BB-46) USS Maryland. It was bad luck that Oklahoma sat directly across from a small loch that led away to the southeast. This open water gave the “Kate” torpedo planes the most perfect run-in to what might otherwise have been a difficult target. Between 0753 and 0800, the "kates" flying low and slow down the narrow loch launched 22 torpedoes. The Janpanese modified each torpedo with wooden fins so when the metal “fish” fell a hundred feet into the water, it hit at a specific angle that tore off the wooden fins, slowing and shallowing the missile. Each “fish” ran at forty knots across the harbor to strike the broad hull of the Oklahoma and West Virginia just behind. Some were launched at the California across the bay to the left. Each torpedo exploded with 454 lbs of high explosive.

The U.S. Navy commissioned the New York Shipbuilding Corporation of Camden, New Jersey to build the USS Oklahoma on 26 October 1911. The Battleship was launched on 23 March 1914. On hand for the occasion was Miss Lorena J. Cruce, daughter of Governor of Oklahoma, Lee Cruce. The navy moved the battleship to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, on 2 May 1916 assigning Captain Roger Welles to command.


USS Oklahoma

The ship was 583 feet long, 95 feet wide and needed 29 feet of draft. Its top speed was a relative slow 20.5 knots but it was extremely long-ranged, carrying 2,000 tons of fuel oil for a range of over 8,000 miles. It was the last US Navy capital ship not to have steam turbines for its main propulsion. Initially the ship’s complement was 864 officers and men, but after 1929 it had quarters for 1,398 officers and men. On the morning of December 7th, 1941, the navy docked the USS Oklahoma in battleship row at mooring #7, which sat directly across from a small loch that led away to the southeast.


USS Oklahoma on Fire

The open water left the Oklahoma vulnerable. In a horrible irony of bad luck, the Oklahoma had no watertight integrity, as all portholes and watertight doors had been ordered opened for inspection scheduled for Monday morning.



Japanese bombs exploded on Ford Island at 0757,waking sailors on the Oklahoma.



One minute later, at 0758, a blast struck the side of the Oklahoma. The blisters attached to the hull of the ship held for a few seconds but were blown away by a second and third torpedo that hit in the same place eliminating the protective blister. Inside “C” deck, a wall of dirty water burst though the open deck and began flooding down the double ladders of the still sleepy ship. More torpedoes struck, one after another, many slamming into the same area, blasting a 70 foot hole through the five inch steel armor. The ship lurched to port but paused. It was now 0800. A moment later, the roaring engines of another wave of Kates flashed over the ship and one of the first to pull up to the right took a photo back at Battleship Row. Shown below there are several wakes of torpedoes heading for Oklahoma, West Virginia and California as plane after plane dropped their “fish” and pulled up to the side to miss the battleships’ high superstructure. Stunned by heavy explosions blasting holes though the heavy side armor, men responded to the alarm bells which belatedly clanged and gonged throughout the ship. One boson seeing the meatballs on the planes, keyed the PA mike and yelled “This is an air attack, NO SHIT!” Men below hurried from their bunks and ran to their battle stations. Those who did not have a fighting station during an air attack ran below to “C” deck where they had heavy armor over their heads, as they had been trained. Sailors and Marines tried to smash open ammunition lockers but all the guns had been dismantled for the upcoming inspection. The ship lurched again and men found themselves fighting for footing on the smooth decks as the list increased markedly. As the Oklahoma began to list, more torpedoes, at least two more, struck home. By 0802, the big ship had rolled left to a dangerous 20 degrees.


In the US Navy photo above, the hull of the capsized USS Oklahoma lies directly in front of USS Maryland. The burning ship just to the right is the USS West Virginia. West Virginia took five 18-inch aircraft torpedoes in her port side and two 15-inch armor-piercing shells fitted with fins. The first bomb penetrated the main deck, wrecking the port casemates and causing that deck to collapse to the level of the galley deck below. Four casemates and the galley caught fire immediately, with the subsequent detonation of the ready-service projectiles stowed in the casemates. The second bomb hit further aft, wrecking one Vought OS2U Kingfisher floatplane

For a few minutes, ropes held the Oklahoma the ship to the USS Maryland, the captain of the latter ordered the ropes cut and at 0809, the Oklahoma fell suddenly on its side, and continued turning, crushing the high top tripod mast into the muddy bottom. Observers around the harbor hardly noticed. Most were overwhelmed by the explosions raining down on and around the seven battleships. After only 12 minutes from the first bomb explosion, where the Oklahoma had been moored, only a part of the hull protruded, the starboard third of the hull above water with its starboard brass propeller raised in the air. The 25 year-old ship’s career ended that instant, having served in two world wars but, amazingly, never firing a single round from any of its hundreds of guns in anger. Oklahoma’s topside and ready crew were able to leap overboard as the ship rolled to port. Many dove in the water and clambered aboard Maryland where they joined that ship’s crew in manning the anti-aircraft batteries. The battleship Oklahoma was the only ship of the United States Navy to ever be named for the 46th state, and was the second of two ships in her class; she was the sister ship of USS Nevada.

The crew compliment on the Oklahoma the morning of December 7, consisted of 83 officers, 1215 enlisted navy, 3 U.S. Marine officers, and 64 enlisted Marines, for a total of 1,365 men. During its 12 minutes of combat, 20 officers and 395 enlisted men were killed or were never recovered. Only 32 men were wounded. Two men were given Medals of Honor for sacrificing their lives to save their fellows. Several sailors and marines died doing the same thing but were given lesser honors. The navy moved ahead, it had a difficult war to fight.

One of the dead was the fleet’s Catholic priest, Lieutenant Junior Grade Father Aloysius Schmitt, the first American chaplain of any faith to die in World War II. He and several men were trapped in an overturned compartment with only a small porthole as the means of escape. Schmitt declined to leave but helped a number of men through this porthole. Twelve men escaped before the air ran out. Father Schmitt was posthumously awarded the Navy-Marine Medal and in 1943 a destroyer escort (DE-676) USS Schmitt was named for him.

On the morning of December 7, 1941, just four days before his 21st birthday John Charles England volunteered to work in the ship's radio room for a friend so that he might have more time with his family when they arrived. Ensign England survived the initial attack and escaped topside as the ship was capsizing. He remembered the men still in the radio room. He returned three times to the radio room, each time guiding a man to safety. He left to go back below decks for the fourth time and was never seen again. He was one of twenty officers and 395 enlisted men died on board USS Oklahoma that morning. Ensign England's gallant effort saved three men, but his fourth trip back inside cost him his life. The navy did not award England a medal, but it did name two ships for him. In 1943, USS England (DE-635) was commissioned and in 1963, USS England (DLG-22) was named in his honor. In a twist of fate, the first USS England on May 9, 1944, destroyed the I-16, the mother submarine of the first mini-sub launched on the morning of December 7, thus revenging its namesake.

After the battle ended, the Navy sent divers and rescue teams to scour the hull of the ship and found many trapped within the capsized hull. Julio DeCastro, a civilian yard worker, organized a team that cut holes in the hull and eventually saved 32 Oklahoma sailors over the next three days.

The next morning, the navy base command immediately began efforts to remove the Oklahoma from the harbor mud, primarily because it blocked the sea channel. Divers penetrated inside and at least 35 bodies were found and removed over the next three weeks and each individually identified. These men were buried in the Nuuanu (Oahu) Cemetery. In 1943 the remains of all crewmen found were buried in Halawa Cemetery because Nuuanu Cemetery had no more room. All 35 men were dug up 1949 and re-interned in the "Punchbowl” National Cemetery. For some reason, presumably the incompetence of low paid laborers, the names of these men were lost in the move and their bones were collectively dumped in a common grave in the National Punch Bowl Cemetery.

The Question
Did a missile from a Japanese Midget Submarine capsize the USS Oklahoma?

In 2009, Marine historians and history buffs claimed that at least one of the torpedoes that hit the USS Oklahoma was from a Japanese midget-submarine. IT is clear from the evidence that two of the midget-subs did managed to penetrate inside the harbor before the attack began
The single most pertinent evidence offered by Marine historians that supports their view that it was a Japanese midget Submarine that capsized the USS Oklahoma is the picture below taken by a Japanese crewman in the second wave of Kate bombers that attacked the ship in Battleship row.




In the photo above, a small puff of smoke can be seen rising from the Light Cruiser USS Helena and the USS Ogalala (center). The big smoke rising in the background are burning aircraft at Hickam Field. This photo indicates several torpedoes are in the water by 0800. USS California, upper right, has been hit by a torpedo and is gushing oil, the USS Oklahoma had been torpedoed (at least twice). USS West Virginia just behind Oklahoma had been struck by at least one torpedo and is listing to port.


Location of U.S. ships in Pearl Harbor Dec. 7th, 1941

USS Arizona Historian Dan Martinez comments on the photo:

Six torpedo tracks are seen in the water headed for Oklahoma and West Virginia. Four appear partially erased by the traveling surface concussion waves. Two tracks appear to be thinner and show less alteration by the wave concussion. Four of the torpedo tracks can be seen in alignment with respective water splashes associated with aerial torpedo drops. The two thinner tracks that were less affected by the wave concussions converged at a point coinciding with the linear object but without water splashes. One of the thinner tracks terminated with a small water plume characterized by the beginning of an underwater explosive detonation against the side of the West Virginia’s hull. The surface concussion rings propagated radially from the West Virginia’s and Oklahoma were the result of the torpedo detonation, its gas bubble in expansion and contraction, a phenomenon of underwater explosion. The magnitude and propagation velocity of the concussion waves can be measured. Thus total elapsed time intervals were computed to be 174 seconds (approximately three minutes) after the Helena was hit. This substantiated that the combat photo was taken at approximately 0801. (Rudimentary shadow analysis agrees that the time was 0801-0803).

The USS Monaghan (DD 354) was one of the “ready duty” destroyers in Pearl Harbor that morning. At 07:51 the ship was ordered to leave the harbor and join Ward, who had just reported sinking an unidentified submarine off the entrance to Pearl Harbor. A few minutes later, before Monaghan could cast off and get underway, the Japanese air attack began. Monaghan went to battle stations and soon opened fire. It still took until 08:27 before steam came up on all boilers and the ship cast off and headed out to join Ward. It was at this point when the captain became aware of an unknown type midget submarine inside the harbor. The following are excerpts from the Monaghan’s log.

1. 0835. Signalmen reported to Monaghan’s captain that USS Curtiss was flying a flag hoist indicating the presence of an enemy submarine. Shortly thereafter the Captain and other personnel on the bridge observed the conning tower of a submarine located approximately 200-300 yards on the starboard quarter of the Curtiss (moored at berth X-22) and that the sub was under vigorous fire by machine guns from Tangier (moored at Northwest end of Ford Island) and from machine guns and the 5" turret from the Curtiss.

2.0837. Captain (of Monaghan) ordered "all engines ahead flank speed" and word was passed that it was intended to ram the submarine – then distant about one thousand yards. At about the same time Williamson, D.C., (CQM) who had the helm, was directed to head for the submarine when he gave assurance that he saw it.

3. The first shot from Monaghan struck over and ricocheted into a derrick moored near the west bank. When it was evident that we were attempting to ram the sub the guns were ordered to cease firing. Within 75 yards the submarine turned sharply toward our bow and released a torpedo. The torpedo porpoised twice and then passed parallel to the ship's starboard side a distance of about 20-30 yards. The torpedo was seen to go up against the north bank throwing up a geyser of water about 200 feet high. The midget submarine was struck a glancing blow causing it to slide aft along the starboard side. The bow lifted out of the water as if the boat was blowing ballast (this was the natural result of firing one of the torpedoes). As the sub passed astern the first depth charge was released. The explosion brought the bow and superstructure of the sub into full view.

4. At about 0843 word was passed to stand by for a shock forward as the submarine had disappeared from the view of those on the bridge and ramming was considered imminent. Shortly thereafter a slight shock was felt and about 0844 the two depth charges released exploded violently about 50-100 yards astern of the Monaghan.

5. At about the same time of the depth charge explosions the order was given "all engines back emergency full speed", which, although carried out promptly, was insufficient to check the headway of the ship which consequently struck a derrick moored near Beckoning Point a slight blow.

6.Upon attempting to back clear of the derrick it was discovered that we were entangled with one of her mooring lines but by going ahead slowly we were able to free the Monaghan and at about 0847 we swung into the channel astern of the Dale and proceeded out of the harbor passing the Entrance buoys at 0908 from where we proceeded to our assigned station on the Offshore Patrol.

About two hours after Monaghan left Pearl Harbor, the damaged and barely functional Ha-19 passed Honolulu beach and rounded Diamond Head. The shock of the earlier collision with the reef had cracked the batteries, which emitted chlorine gas. The gas became so thick inside the hull that it rendered the crew unconscious. When Sakamaki finally regained consciousness, he found that the sub had surfaced and was rolling in the surf on the surface near the shore. He opened the hatch to breathe fresh air. Looking west over the crest of Diamond Head, he could see dense smoke rising from ships burning in the harbor. Sick and confused, Sakamaki tried to drive the craft up on the beach but struck hard on a reef several yards offshore. Sakamaki and Inagaki shifted ballast and freed the midget submarine, but now the rudder was so damaged that the boat would not answer the helm. Drifting helplessly, Ha-19 was spotted and depth charged by a patrolling PBY. Sakamaki again tried to beach the boat, but stuck on an outer reef again. Finally, the officer gave up and lit the fuse of the midget submarine's self-destruct charge. He and Inagaki then crawled out of the hatch and leapt into the surf. Sakamaki was knocked unconscious by big waves crashing over the reef. Battered, his unconscious body washed ashore on Waimanalo Beach near Bellow's Field. PO2C Inagaki Kiyoshi’s body was never found.

Ha-19’sscuttling charge failed to explode. When the authorities found the derelict Ha-19 the next day after the attack, they found both torpedoes intact and inside there was a map indicating that none of the midget submarines were supposed to attack the capital ships until at least 10 AM, a full two hours after the attack was supposed to begin. This was to avoid interference with the aerial torpedo and bombing attack.

Injured and confused, Sakamaki was captured the next morning, December 8 (Hawaii time). He was Japanese POW number one. Under interrogation, he refused to answer any questions and repeatedly demanded he be allowed to die by his own hand or preferably, to be shot by a firing squad.

At 10:40 pm December 7 (Hawaii time) submarine I-16 picked up a garbled radio transmission the captain interpreted to be the midget-submarine’s code words for "Success, success, success". It is not certain if the message came from M-16 but it was from one of the midgets. Another transmission "unable to navigate" was received at 12:51 am the following morning 8 December (Hawaii Time). This was believed to have been sent by M-16’s officer.

Three of the subs have been found outside the harbor and two midget-subs are known to have penetrated the harbor. One was certainly destroyed by Monaghan in the main channel inside the harbor around 0844. It fired both of its torpedoes. The other midget that penetrated inside the harbor may have hidden to be scuttled the next day. What happened to its two-man crew is uncertain, but they did not escape or survive the war.

Sakamaki’s capture was quickly discovered by the IJN. During the war, the Japanese Navy proclaimed the lost mini-submariners to be great heroes and erected a shrine to them at Etajima. The high command officially ignored Sakamaki. PO2C Inagaki is inscribed as the only crewman in HA-19. None returned to the mother submarines.

Conclusions

1. M-16. About five miles from the harbor entrance, USS Ward’s Lookouts spotted a periscope heading toward the entrance to the naval harbor. At 6:53, about an hour before the aerial attack on Pearl Harbor began, the Ward sent a radio message that it fired on and dropped depth charges on a submarine. The vessel did not come up after being depth-charged. This was no doubt M-16...... At 12.20 p.m. on August 28, 2002, the Pisces IV and Pisces V, two deep diving submersibles operated by the Hawai‘i Undersea Research Laboratory (HURL), which are carried aboard the research vessel Ka'imikai-o-Kanaloa came upon the 78-foot, two-man submarine three to four miles off Pearl Harbor in about 1,200 feet of water. It had a 4 inch hole at the base of the conning tower exactly as Ward had claimed.

2. M-20. At c 0730 a patrolling PBY "Catalina" flying-boat 14-P-1, piloted by Ensign William P. Tanner of Patrol Squadron VP-14, spotted another periscope (he had helped USS Ward find and attack M-16) in the waters off the entrance to Pearl Harbor. This was possibly M-20. Tanner attacked this mini-sub with depth charges. The fate of this sub is not known and may have made it inside the main harbor where it fired its torpedoes and then was abandoned.

3. M-18. This sub was spotted inside the Keehi Lagoon next to Pearl Harbor by a destroyer and depth charged and sunk. On 13 June 1960, the submarine discovered lying on the bottom of the lagoon in 75 feet of water. On 6 July 1960, this boat was raised by the submarine rescue ship USS Current (ARS-22).

4. M-22. One midget, probably Lt Iwasa's M-22, penetrated inside Pearl Harbor and is known to have fired both torpedoes. It is confirmed that a mini-sub attacked the seaplane tender AV-4 Curtiss and DD Monaghan (DD 354). At 0836, Curtiss, underway and moving in the harbor, sighted a periscope and opened fire. A torpedo from the submarine missed Curtiss, but blew up a dock at Pearl City. Four minutes later this Japanese midget submarine surfaced and was further damaged by gunfire before diving again, after which USS Monaghan attacked it directly and dropped depth charges. Recently, the Los Angeles Times reported that Iwasa may have attacked and hit the battleship Oklahoma. According to Admiral Nimitz’s official testimony to Congress, one intact Japanese 800 lb (warhead-1000 lb total weight) submarine-type torpedo was later reportedly recovered from the bottom of the harbor which may or may not have been from M-22.
5. M-24 (Ha-19). Sakamaki’s boat was discovered damaged but intact, washed up on Waimanalo Beach below Bellows Field on the day following the attack. The sub was perfectly operational except for some external damage. It was repaired and shipped to the United States.

The Fifth and Last Midget Submarine

Three pieces of the sub (with cables intermingled, showing how the pieces were salvaged) were found during routine test dives between 1994 and 2001 by Terry Kerby, chief pilot of the Hawaii Undersea Research Laboratory's submersibles Pisces IV and Pisces V. But Kerby and others assumed they were a part of a war trophy that had been captured by allied forces at Guadalcanal or elsewhere, towed back to Hawaii and scuttled. Stephenson got involved in 2007 because he was looking for the fifth Japanese mini-sub. In 1941, a crewman on the I-16 had received a radio call from the I-16-tou at 10:41 p.m. on Dec. 8 reporting the success of its mission. That indicated to Stephenson that the mini-sub had found a calm place in the harbor and hidden until the next night before surfacing and sending the call. The crew members would have then scuttled the craft because they could not get it out of the harbor. The West Loch would have been a good location to hide, but researchers could find no trace of the boat there. A diver who had been looking for the mini-sub suggested that Stephenson talk to Kerby, who sent him pictures of his find.

"As soon as I saw the bow section with the distinctive net cutter, I knew that we had found the fifth midget sub," Stephenson said. No torpedoes were found on the wreck, and evidence suggests that they were not present when the boat was sunk. In looking at the photo of torpedoes in the water striking battleship row, Stephenson believed was from a mini-sub firing a torpedo into Battleship Row. A report to Congress in 1942 by Adm. Chester W. Nimitz describes an unexploded 800-pound torpedo recovered after the battle. That's twice the size carried by the torpedo bombers. That torpedo was apparently a dud that missed the West Virginia. But an examination of the remains of the Oklahoma shows that it apparently had underwater damage much larger than that associated with aerial torpedoes. An underwater blast would have caused it to capsize, Stephenson said. "Otherwise it would have settled to the bottom upright," like the other sunken ships. (Author’s note: Stephenson either ignores the fact that Oklahoma was wide open, or was not aware that the ship was being prepared for an intensive Captain’s inspection. It was also struck repeatedly, perhaps as many as a dozen aerial torpedoes).



Recovered sub sunk by the USS Ward

Sub sunk by USS Monaghan

Out of the five midgets, Ward sunk the one above outside the harbor entrance (see photo-1); the second, HA-19 beached off Bellows Field (see photo-2); a third was sunk and later recovered from inside the Keehi Lagoon (see photo-3); a fourth midget made it inside the channel to Pearl Harbor and launched both torpedoes at the cruiser USS St Louis near the harbor entrance and was sunk by Monaghan (see photo-4). The fifth midget has been found among the debris off the entrance to the harbor but its activities remain a mystery (photo-5). This last midget submarine may have laid low inside the harbor during the confusion of the air raid after firing its torpedoes then scuttled itself when it could not exit the harbor. In the evening hours of December 8, the mother sub I-16 received a message that one of the midgets was experiencing "navigational problems."

IT is clear that from the evidence that two Japanese midget submarines entered Pearl Harbor. One fired both torpedoes, which were spotted by USS Curtis and then destroyed by the USS Monaghan. Ultimately salvage crews dredged this midget sub from the harbor with its stern crushed by depth charges. The other midget, which entered Pearl Harbor apparently also fired both its torpedoes, at something--perhaps the ships on the west side of Ford Island. It was then probably scuttled by its commander, killing both crewmembers. Salvage crews scooped-up debris from the Forager disaster from southwest loch, including the second midget sub, and hauled the debris out to sea; it was re-discovered with its dredging cables still attached to the three pieces of the hull in 2009. Neither of these two midget subs could have fired at the USS Oklahoma. There is no doubt that the Oklahoma’s sinking was the result of multiple aerial torpedo hits (at least seven and perhaps ten or more) and the fact that the ship was in a fragile, non-water tight configuration. No bombs hit Oklahoma because by the time the level and attack bombers got around to hitting Battleship Row, the ship had already capsized.

The air attack was a stunning success, although one can argue that it helped the US Navy by knocking out the battleships ending forever the argument over which were more important: aircraft carriers or battleships. The third wave, which Nagumo cancelled, was planned to hit the repair facilities and fuel farms. These were far more important to the US Navy than the battleships--but not nearly as attractive to the Japanese mind-set. The midget submarine attack in any case was a dismal and completely unnecessary failure for the Japanese Navy. The old men in command consistently believed that young, dead heroes and their “honorable” deaths were far more desirable than live, successful, pilots. This attitude was repeated throughout the war. Competent, tough and well equipped at first, when given the opportunity, the Japanese pilot and marine would always take their own lives, rather than to risk being captured. This made it easier to win the war.




Monday, January 25, 2010

Alfred Jacob Miller and the 1837 Fur Trade Rendezvous

Alfred Jacob Miller was one of the first artists to document in his work the adventures of mountain men and Native Americans in the American West in the early nineteenth century. Miller was an American artist who attended the fashionable European school Ecole des Beaux-Arts in 1834. He returned to Baltimore, Maryland in 1836 and soon after he relocated his art studio to New Orleans. It was in New Orleans where Scottish nobleman, Capt. William Drummond Stewart, recently retired from the British Army, visited with Miller.


Alfred Miller's painting of William Stewart

Steward, who sought his own adventure in the American West, asked Miller to accompany him on an expedition in 1837. Steward wanted the artist to document one of the American frontier’s most exciting gatherings of white and native people; the annual Fur Trade Rendezvous, which in 1837 was located on the Green River in present day western Wyoming. Subsequently, Miller became famous for his depictions of western inhabitants in the early nineteenth century. Like Karl Bodmer, and George Catlin before him, Miller captured in his paintings a realistic yet romantic vision of Mountain men and Native Americans interacting at the Rendezvous on the Green River. There are very few journals or diaries of participants who attended the 1837 Rendezvous; Miller’s sketches and paintings are a valuable contribution that document one of the last Fur Trade gatherings in the American history.

In the spring of 1837, the Scottish nobleman, and his new artist friend, along with an entourage of assorted people traveled West in a fur trade supply caravan led by Thomas Fitzpatrick, a part owner in the American Fur Company, and a trapper/trader who had been attending the Fur Trade Rendezvous since it’s inception in 1825 by William Ashley.


Recent photograph of the First Rendezvous site on the Green River


Ashley initiated the Rendezvous as a once a year gathering place to supply his fur trappers with goods in return for the trapper’s furs. It was financially expedient to haul supplies to their traders in the West, thereby making it possible for the trappers to avoid the long trip to St. Louis to dispose of their furs.
At the first Rendezvous on the Green River, Ashley sold supplies to 120 men. Some were independent trappers and others belonged to the Hudson Bay Company, who in 1825 dominated the fur industry in the Pacific Northwest.

The Fitzpatrick supply train arrived on the Green River in July 1837, where the found a large gathering of Fur traders and Native Americans looking to trade their furs for Ashley’s supplies.

Recent Photograph of 1837 Rendezvous site on Horse Creek, a branch of the Green River



The gathering was large and the partying by both white and Indian went on for days. Although Fitzpatrick did not include whiskey among these supplies, the drink was in abundance; the gathering on the Green was perhaps one of the wildest of any previous rendezvous. One trapper recorded that when he arrived at the Rendezvous,

Here we found the hunting parties all assembled waiting for the arrival of supplies from the States. Here presented what might be termed a mixed multitude. The whites were chiefly Americans and Canadian French with some Dutch, Scotch, Irish, English, halfbreed, and full blood Indians, of nearly every tribe in the Rocky Mountains. Some were gambling at cards some playing the Indian game of hand and other horse racing while here and there could be seen small groups collected under shady trees relating the events of the past year all in good spirits and health for sickness is a stranger seldom met with in these regions.

The atmosphere provided artist Jacob Miller with wonderful sketches that he later made into paintings, his medium was usually watercolor.


Miller's watercolor of the 1837 Rendezvous


Breaking up camp at Sunrise.

Miller's painting is a reflection of his thought. While traveling with the Fitzpatrick caravan He wrote,


At four o'clock in the morning, it is the duty of the last men on guard to loosen the horses from their pickets, in order to range and feed. At daylight, everybody is up--our provisors are busy with preparations for breakfast;--tents and lodges are collapsed, suddenly thrown down, wrapped up, and bundled into the wagons.

If the sun is 20 minutes above the horizon when our breakfast is finished, we conceive that he has a reproachful look. By this time the horses are driven in, and each man hurries after his own, saddles or harnesses him, and the train puts itself enroute.

At this period, one of the strongest contrasts presents itself, and illustrates in a striking manner the difference between the white and red man.

While all is activity and bustle with the Anglo-Saxon as if he feared that the Rocky Mountains would not wait for him, the Indian lingers to the last moment around the camp fire,--he neither enters into or sympathizes with our diligence, and seems to regret that stern necessity forces him to accept our company for his convoy.


While Miller's experience with Native Americans are depicted in most of his sketches and painting, his impression of the war like nature of the Indian is most stunning.



On this eventful morning our caravan, pursuing as usual the even tenor of its way, we descried one of our hunters returning to the camp at full gallop. His speech was to the purpose, "Injins all about--that will be some raising of h'ar as sure as shootin." On his heels followed other confirming this. At this juncture, it would have been a good study(if the mater had not been so serious) to watch the countenances of the different men. The staid indifference of the old trappers ready for any emergency, the greenhorns(braggarts of the camp fire) pale about the gills and quite chopfallen. No boasting now!. Monsieur Proveau, subleader, with a corpus round as a porpoise, revolving in his mind what was to be done A Problem.

All of us were more or less uncomfortable decidedly, and as sensitive about our scalps as a Chinese concerning his pig-tail que. We were not kept long in suspense. A cloud of dust soon divulging a piratical horde of wretches, painted without regard to harmony of color, coming down on us at top speed,--armed to the teeth, and when they reached us, they commenced riding around in a menacing manner.


One of the most recognized of Miller's painting is "The Trappers Bride."





Miller annotated "The Trapper's Bride"

The prices varying in accordance with the circumstances. He (the trapper) is seated with his frined, to the left of the sketch, his hand extended to his promised wife, supported by her father and accompanied by a chief, who holds the calumet, an article indispensable in all grand ceremonies. The price of acquisition, in this case, was $600.00 paid for in the legal tender of this region: Guns, $100.00, Blankets $40.00 each, Red Flannel $20.00 pr. year, Alcohol $64.00 Gal. Tobacco, Beads, etc. at corresponding rates.

A free Trapper(white or half-breed), being ton or upper circle, is a most desirable match, but it is conceded that he is a ruined man after such an investment, the lady running into unheard of extravagances. She wants a dress, horse, gorgeous saddle, trappings, and the deuce know what beside. For this the poor devil trapper sells himself, body and soul, to the Fur Company for a number of years. He traps beaver, hunts the Buffalo and bear, Elk etc. The furs and robes of which the Company credit to his account.

Sunday, January 3, 2010

The 1930s Dust Bowl and Katrina: Environmental Refugees

“Environmental Refugees” as defined by Wall Street Journal columnist, Cynthia Crossen, are thousands, perhaps millions of people forced from their homes and communities because of a natural disaster. This is certainly true of American citizens who have been fleeing for their lives since the onslaught of Hurricane Katrina. But it is not the first time in American history that an environmental disaster forced Americans from their homes. Over seventy years ago, the draught that devastated the farming culture in the Great Plains of the American West, augmented by an Economic Depression, forced thousands of Environmental Refugees from their homes; all poor, desperate, hungry and looking for work.

Since the first settler put down roots in the semi-arid regions of the Southern Plains in the late nineteenth century, farming was a risky business dependent on the whims of nature. Encouraged by good years and sufficient moisture, farmers prospered. But, without adequate rain and very little irrigation, the dry years were difficult and brought too many foreclosures. When the devastating drought of the late 1920s continued year after year, the farmlands of Oklahoma, Texas and Arkansas became cracked and barren. And, dust storms added insult to injury by picking up the precious topsoil and depositing it as far away as the decks of ships off the Atlantic Coast.




Hundreds of thousands of residents of the Dust Bowl region packed up their meager belongings, piled them in their old trucks and headed to what must have seemed like the promised land--California. On their way, these Environmental Refugees met others on the road heading to the same salvation. They believed the rumors that in California there were jobs, places to live and schools for their children. What the refugees found in California was not the numerous jobs as advertised by fruit growers, but a lot of hostility.




There are a lot of differences between those displaced by the environmental disaster caused by drought and dust storms, and those displaced by Hurricane Katrina. For one, once the mechanisms of government started to offer aid to hurricane victims the suffering began to subside. Those who are benefiting from government aid and relief in 2005 can thank the environmental disaster of the early 1930s. Americans learned from the anguish of Dust Bowl refugees that we all have responsibility, whether through tax dollars, giving to charitable and humanitarian organization, or as volunteers, to aid fellow Americans. This was not the case in 1930.

Californians were very concerned about the “Thousands of indigents from the Middle West” flooding into their state and causing “increasing relief burdens.” Los Angeles officials noted that in one twelve-month period 2,946,614 people entered California by automobile. The relief cost in Los Angeles county had increased three-fold in a few short years. Conferences were called where state and city officials came together to discuss the impact of the “indigents” on the state. Besides the obvious strain on meager relief funds, epidemics and the general “character” of the new immigrants were also of concern.

It was not in the American mind in the early 1930s to “hand out” financial relief to those who were unemployed. The thought being that the recipient of the funds would become lazy and lose their will to take care of themselves and their families. It took the Economic Depression of the early 1930s and an environment catastrophe, as witnessed in the Southern Plains, for President Franklin D. Roosevelt and his administration to experiment with various ways in which the Federal government could offer aid to the millions of Americans in need. The results of those programs were born out of necessity.

There is much talk today in the aftermath of Katrina to whether it is wise to rebuild New Orleans so that those who evacuated can return to their homes. It is assumed that those who were finding it difficult to survive before the hurricane will want to return and continue the struggle. Many of the Okies and Arkies who fled the Dust Bowl in the 1930s never returned to their homes and farms. Instead they settled in the rich farming land of the San Joaquin Valley of central California, where they had more prosperous opportunities. Perhaps many of those who fled Katrina will also find better opportunities in the various states where they are now making an adjustment and forging a new life.

From Radio to Television: Gunsmoke and the Real West.

Almost everyone today has seen or at least heard of the popular 1950s western, Gunsmoke. The show had the distinction of being one of the longest running western series (1955-1975) in television history. To the western aficionado, Gunsmoke had all the important characteristics of the western genre—a bigger than life hero, who, along with his sidekick, fought for the good of the townsfolk against the forces of evil.

Good versus Evil was a popular theme in the 1950s, largely due to the Cold War and American’s fight to contain communism. And like many shows debuting on the new medium of television, there was a certain emphasis on clean wholesome non-violent programming that upheld the 1950s image of a prosperous consensus society. So, imagine my amazement when I finally had the opportunity to listen to the radio version of Gunsmoke, to find a different West than the one portrayed in the sanitized TV western.


Radio Cast of Gunsmoke


When I first listened to a Gunsmoke radio play, it immediately became apparent that this was not the Dodge City, Kansas, of TV lore. Instead, I found the infamous western town a hard, sometimes cruel, place. There were few if any heroes, only men and women who were lucky enough to survive the inhospitable environment. And, instead of happy endings, pessimism about life and one’s fellow man permeated each show—a realism that the writers worked hard to create. This tone is set from the very opening when the announcer introduces the program with, “The story of violence that moved west and the man that moved with it.”



Click on Matt for Shows Opening

John Meston created Gunsmoke and wrote 183 of the radio plays that aired between 1952-1961. His style and penchant for detail set the tone for the show; his chief trademark was authenticity. The writer believed that the West was a tragic violent place where people had a hard life, didn’t live long because of a lack of medication, sanitation, and nutritional food. According to Meston, “it [the West] was just heat and sand.”

One of the most authentic aspects of the radio play was in the characterizations of the town Marshall, Matt Dillion his deputy Chester, Doc Adams, and of course, Miss Kitty. TV’s Matt Dillion, played by James Arness, portrayed a strong determined man with a quite demeanor who swore an oath to protect the townspeople. William Conrad’s radio Matt Dillion was a pessimistic loner; he saw very little about life and man that he liked.

The town doctor, Doc Adams (Milburn Stone), of the TV series was a kind old soul who mourned each death as if the deceased was a family member, the radio Doc(Howard McNear) was greedy and looked forward to the next body that he could cut apart in one of his “autopsies”. Doc waited anxiously for the next killing or street shoot-out so that he had another “customer,” of whom he was paid to ascertain the cause of death and prepare for burial. Doc’s character is so greedy that listeners cannot help but wonder if the good doctor was selling body parts on the side.



Click on Matt for a snippet of Doc

And then there is Miss Kitty. Television viewers never really knew for sure what Miss Kitty (Amanda Blake) and Marshall Dillion did behind closed doors. Well, in the Radio version, listeners have little doubt that Miss Kitty Russell (Georgia Ellis), owner of the Long Branch Saloon, was a prostitute and of her relationship with Matt Dillion. In many episodes she is virtually begging Matt to come by and spend the night.



Click on Matt for Kitty's approach to Matt.

Meston not only tried to portray the American West in an authentic manner, but he also brought to radio a more colorful landscape by introducing more realism through sound effects. There were two soundmen working on the set and they shared Meston’s quest for authenticity. For example, instead of using the typical gunshot sound found in most plays, which had sort of a pop/dud sound, the sound men went to the California desert and fired different guns that were typical of the 1870s and recorded their effect. So, in a gunfight on the streets of Dodge the radio listeners would hear the report of several different guns, which sounded more authentic than the pop sound of a blank in the studio. The soundmen also were methodical in providing background sounds that imitated life. For Example, when Marshall Dillion moved, each step was accented. The soundmen knew exactly how many steps from Matt’s chair to the coffee pot to the door leading outside. Once on the boardwalk, Matt’s steps were augmented by the sound of spurs hitting the wood, which distinguished him from anyone walking with him. Other sounds effect included the creaking of leather as Marshall Dillion lifted his hefty frame into the saddle, the different sounds between Indian horses (unshod) and those of the townspeople (shod), and the difference in sound between day and night.


Click on Matt for sound effects. The scene evolves around a massacre at a homestead. Matt and Chester have just found the wife and daughter, notice the night sounds and foot steps.

Gunsmoke was the first really adult western on radio and television. The authenticity and realism of the American West, as portrayed by the John Meston and staff of his writers, appealed to mature audiences, and moved the western away from the adolescent male audience who made The Long Ranger and Hopilong Cassidy popular. But, somewhere in the transition from radio to TV, some of the gritty character of the western was lost to a blander romantic West.




Click on Matt for full episode, 27 min.

Have Gun, Will Travel

Probably one of the most intriguing westerns to air on television and radio in the 1950s was Have Gun, Will Travel. The series was one of the top three western television shows, exceeded only by Gunsmoke and Wagon Train in popularity. But, unlike the latter two, Have Gun, Will Travel was the only western to air first on television and then move to radio.

Have Gun Will Travel first aired on CBS television in 1957. Richard Boone played the dapper, black-clad Paladin, a high priced gun for hire.



Richard Boone

Paladin was one of the first TV private detectives, certainly the first private eye type character on a TV western. Paladin, a name conceived from the white knight in chess game, and emboldened on his calling card with the inscription “Have Gun, Will Travel…Wire San Francisco,” fought for good against evil by hiring out as a ”gunslinger.” It was a chivalrous position, a knight with the qualities of courage, honor, courtesy and justice. And, the knight was always a gentleman. Paladin was a man of culture. He was educated at West Point and served as a Union officer in the Civil War. In 1875 San Francisco, Paladin resided at the swank Hotel Carlton, where he enjoyed the “escort” of lovely ladies and was taken care of by the Chinese bellboy, Hay (Hey) Boy. When Paladin was working he ditched his fancy duds and dressed completely in black, with his six-gun strapped low on his thigh. And, although a gun for hire, Paladin would turn against his employer if he found himself in a situation where he was fighting for evil.



Richard Boone as Paladin

The series was such a hit on television, Herb Meadows and Sam Rolfe started the CBS radio version of Have Gun, Will Travel in 1958. The radio program ran for two years. The Radio Paladin starred John Dehner and Ben Wright as Hay Boy. Dehner was a veteran actor and started his career as an animator for Walt Disney Studios, then worked as a disc jockey and a professional pianist. He made his Film debut in 1945. His western roles included outlaw leaders, crooked bankers and saloon owners. He was often cast as one of the bad guys in the radio version of Gunsmoke. He became a favorite for reading radio scripts because of his deep baritone voice.


John Dehner

His first Radio series was Frontier Gentleman, a short run western where Dehner portrayed a London Times journalist, J. B. Kendall, who traveled the old west. The show’s prologue stated that Kendall was “ A Man with a Gun.” When Have Gun, Will Travel moved to Radio, Dehner was a natural to play the suave sophisticated Paladin.


John Dehner as Paladin


Dehner’s radio Paladin was even more of the dandy than Richard Boone’s television character. The Radio Paladin was a ladies man who lavishly entertained his women with the most expensive and exotic foods known to West coast diners of the 1870s.




Click on Card for short clip







Have Gun, Will Travel was certainly a series that deviated from the western genre on many fronts, but on one front the show was consistent with other media at the end of the 1950s when programs began to portray some of societal ills apparent both in the eighteen hundreds and relevant to the civil rights movement of the late 1950s and 1960s. “Hay Boys Revenge” was one such program presented on Have Gun, Will Travel that demonstrated the prejudice and labor conditions of Chinese workers in California during the era of capital growth and Railroad empire in post Civil War America.




Click on Card for 23 min. episode entitled Hay Boys Revenge

Thanks for listening!

Tackling a New Frontier in Film

One of the most anticipated Westerns in well over a decade is coming to a movie screen near you. Winner of the coveted Golden Lion Award for best picture at this year’s Venice Film Festival, Brokeback Mountain , is due out in mid-December.






Brokeback Mountain
is garnering critical praise and expected to be a strong contender come Oscar time. This isn’t surprising, really. The film’s budget, at $13 million, is modest by Hollywood standards, but it boasts an impressive pedigree. Based on a short story by Pulitzer prize-winning novelist Annie Proulx that first appeared in The New Yorker , Brokeback Mountain is co-scripted by another Pulitzer prize-winner, Larry McMurtry, directed by Academy Award-winning director Ang Lee ( Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon ), and produced by Focus Features, the studio responsible for such award winning films as The Pianist, Lost in Translation , and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

A modern-day Western, Brokeback Mountain chronicles a 20-year ill-fated romance set against the magnificence of the arid ladscape of the American West. The premise isn’t new—cowboy heroes are rarely destined for the stability of hearth and home. But there is a notable difference: the lovers in this Western are two men.


Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhael

At first glance, we might think liberal Hollywood has run amok again, giving us yet another example of deviant popular culture bastardizing a cherished genre. But Brokeback Mountain is actually in keeping with a strong tradition. Westerns, we forget, particularly in their heyday from the 1950s through the early 1970s, often explored controversial social issues. In fact, many of the films that questioned the validity of longstanding beliefs throughout that period were Westerns. After all, who would ever suspect that such a simple and fundamentally American genre could entertain oppositional views?

In 1950, Hollywood icon Jimmy Stewart starred in Broken Arrow , one of the first major motion pictures not only to tell a story from the Indian point of view, but to challenge the taboo against inter-racial marriage, which was still illegal in some states until struck down by the Supreme Court in 1967. High Noon (1952), featuring Gary Cooper as a marshal who must face four killers on his own, was scripted by Carl Foreman who was blacklisted by the time the film was released. He wrote High Noon knowing he would be called before the House Un-American Activities Committee and used the Western as a metaphor for his own experience of persecution and increasing isolation under McCarthy-era paranoia. The final moment, when Gary Cooper throws his badge in the dirt at his feet, prompted John Wayne to call High Noon the most un-American thing he had ever seen.

This trend accelerated in the 1960s and 1970s as a disillusioned America produced antiheroes battling an increasingly corrupt society where the line between good and evil was ambiguous and blurred. As Burt Lancaster says in The Professionals (1966), “It’s the good guys against the bad guys. Question is, who are the good guys?” The Wild Bunch (1969), with its climactic bloodbath, gave us a world where the only men with a code of honor were bank robbers, killers and mercenaries. Little Big Man (1970) and particularly Soldier Blue (1970) offered clear metaphors for the Vietnam War, showing that massacres like the one that happened at My Lai in 1968 were not new to U.S. history.

Brokeback Mountain , the “gay Western,” as it is being called, is very much within this tradition. Gay rights is at the center of socio-cultural debate today. There is more acceptance of gays and lesbians than ever before but also vituperative reaction against that acceptance. Not surprisingly, we’re seeing this played out in our popular culture. Gay characters and personalities have been common on television since Ellen DeGeneres came out in 1997. We see recurring gay characters on such diverse shows as NBCs Will and Grace , HBOs Six Feet Under , and the irrepressible Fab 5 of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy .

But no major motion picture, much less a Western, has shown gay relationships as full and complete interactions between two people—until now. Yes, Tom Hanks won an Oscar for his portrayal of a gay man dying from AIDS in 1993, but we saw very little in Philadelphia about his life pre-HIV and the choices he faced. In Brokeback Mountain , characters express their passion and struggle against the love they have for one another because they live in fear of the consequences of living openly. Over the 20 year span of the film, we see how this kind of fear can affect both the individuals as well as those around them. Of his character, actor Heath Ledger says “Ennis punishes himself over an uncontrollable need—love. Fear was installed in him at an early age, and so the way he loved disgusted him. He’s a walking contradiction.”



But why a Western? According to co-scriptwriter Diana Ossana, who a lso co-wrote the screenplay for TV’s adaptation of Lonesome Dove with McMurtry, the Western continues to have something to say to modern audiences. We connect to Westerns, she says, “the good ones are compelling, true-to-life stories, with raw, flawed human characters mostly operating in a harsh, unforgiving landscape. It’s always about survival for [the characters in Brokeback Mountain]” she adds, “not just financially, but physically, with the snow and the wind and the rain and the harsh landscape.”

The big question is, how will this film play across America? Producer James Schamus believes the country is ready. “Even though we think of this as a very polarized country on [the subject of homosexuality],” he says, “we’re less polarized than the media would lead us to believe.” Furthermore, the reality, he insists, is that gay people are represented across all walks of life, including cowboys. “This is a Western, rooted in the experiences of those who really lived in the West. We don’t have gay folks just on the coasts. One of the great things about the story is how true it really rings.”

Gay issue aside, the filmmakers hope audiences will be drawn to the power of the story, the loss, self-denial, and the personal price paid by two people who cannot hope to live and build a life together. Director Ang Lee contends that “to make a great romantic story, you need great obstacles. Ennis and Jack are in the American West, which has macho and traditional values. So everything they feel they have to keep private. It’s precious and something special they cannot articulate.”

As the film’s opening approaches, the controversy is beginning. Wyoming playwright Sandy Dixon doesn’t believe there are gay cowboys in her home state. “Those that want to make a queer story out of it, will,” she insists, “and those that know real cowboys will say it’s all hogwash.”

It will be interesting to see.

Yardena Rand is a member of the Western Writers of America and author of Wild Open Spaces: Why We Love Westerns. Please go to www.ilovewesterns.com

to learn more. Copyright Yardena Rand.





BOOK REVIEW

Gloss Laminate Soft Cover
6 X 9 288 Pages
$14.95

Author: Don Butler
Editor: Nicole Leah Vecchiotti
Cover Design: Stephen Bright

ISBN: 0-9767003-4-4
Published: March 2005
Printed in the U. S. A. by Morgan Printing





The North Fork spans the turbulent decades on the southwestern frontier following the Civil War, telling the overlapping stories of people from three different cultures, struggling to survive while too often pitted against each other by circumstances beyond their control.

After the war, control of the land known as Comancheria--all of the South Plains, including half of both Texas and Indian Territory--is wrested from the Comanches and Kiowas, opening the way for cattle drives and giant Texas cattle companies. Eventually, the settlers come, hungry for land and seeking a new life.

In addition to such historical figures as Quanah Parker, George Armstrong Custer and Lone Wolf, readers will find a host of colorful fictional characters, including:

Red Eagle, a Kiowa chief, who leads a raid into Texas and returns with an unexpected treasure,

Tom Carter, a trail hand with a quick temper and a faster trigger finger, who finds trouble--and more--on both sides of the North Fork, and

Molly Harding, a Texas farm girl, caught in the conflict between her head and her heart--and in the middle of a thirty-year-old mystery.

Indian raids and uprisings, the destruction of the buffalo herds, creation of the reservations, the Buffalo War, cattle drives, the Red River boundary dispute, the creation of Oklahoma Territory, arrival of the homesteaders, and other historic events shape the destinies of the people along the North Fork--a place where their cultures will clash while their personal lives become entangled in ways they could have never imagined.

A tribute to Southwest Oklahoma history has been crafted by Don Butler....---Altus Times

The mixing of such well-known people as Quanah Parker and Lone Wolf with fictional characters brings a realistic and exciting light to local history.---Vernon Daily Record

Author

The North Fork is set in the place of the author's youth. After retiring from the practice of public utility and municipal law, Don Butler turned to historical writing and research. He and his wife live in Austin, where he once served as City Attorney.