April 15th saw the Macomb readying herself for sea at Kerama Retto. At 1540, she weighed anchor and steamed through the gate, passing from peaceful anchorage once more into an arena of Hell. Proceeding to our newly assigned station in RP No. 3, the air search radar indicated many Bogeys in the vicinity. Combat sent out the usual info to all parts of the ship. The Bogeys continued to open and then close again. Heavy anti-aircraft fire was observed on all sides, as both shore and ship AA batteries gave a display. Finally, with director and guns on a target, we opened fire. But before damage could be observed, low flying clouds enveloped the Bogey, allowing it to escape. Arriving on station at 2000, a station 25 miles northeast of Okinawa, we were greeted by 5 LCSs which had been previously dispatched as our fire support.
The first night on this station was spent with continuous closing Bogey raids, causing the crew and guns to be alerted. Then out of nowhere a plane appeared to be closing, gun crews readied themselves, magazine crews below decks tensed, ranges from plots were constantly decreasing—10 miles, 8, 5—will he divert? 3 miles!! The captain ordered flank speed. The ship burst forth with life. Bogey now 1 mile! Came the report from combat. Powder men and loaders readied their cartridges and projectiles. Range closed to 1000 yards. Then the heartening report, “range opening”; all hands exhaled as a feeling of relief descended upon the ship.
Early morning continued with these nuisance raids. Shortly after 0800, two large formations of Bogeys were reported to the west. The USS Laffey on station RP No. 1 reported she was under attack, and has been hit on the fantail. The voice circuit blared forth again, USS Hobson (DMS 26) in RP No. 14 reported she was under attack on her station located 70 miles northwest of Okinawa. All raids so far seemed to be coming from the north and northwest. Our guardian angel was hovering over us! No enemy planes had yet been reported coming for our station.
Combat telephone circuits were buzzing with information, our radar screen was now dotted with Bogeys. Once again a report from the Laffey, she had been hit a third time. The Hobson’s call was again heard through the clamor of the many voice circuits—she had been hit! The general quarters gong sounded throughout the ship—“All hands man your battle stations!” Enemy planes in the area. The USS Bryant, while going to the aid of the Laffey, had been hit by a suicidal attack. At 0935 we were instructed to go to the assistance of these stricken ships.
The Macomb was now bustling with activity. Proceeding at top speed we began making preparations for towing, handling survivors and other necessary details enabling us to assist these ships. At 1015 lookouts sighted a ship on the horizon. As her silhouette became more distinguishable it proved to be Bryant. As we approached, the news that most of the damage was topside reached us, and no assistance was needed, she was able to proceed under her own power. All hands noticed and recognized the forms outlined on the forecastle-deck as human but motionless shapes, which could not be mistaken for anything but the stillness of death. We proceeded on our way, trying to fathom what lay ahead of us.
At 1100 the Laffey was in sight. The lookouts reported a flashing light in the water, possibly a downed pilot’s signal mirror. Closing the flashing object, the pilot could be seen floating in a life raft. While maneuvering the ship to rescue him, all hands manned the rails to give him assistance. His injuries proved slight but his temporary exhaustion disclosed the trials of battle.
Coming up alongside the Laffey, preparing to take her in tow, the stricken ship presented a never-to-be-forgotten sight. An unbelievable mass of twisted steel and smoldering destruction—the grim picture of death lying about the decks, men a short while ago like ourselves—now , tossed about as if the devil himself reached up with a ball of fire. The crew of this gallant destroyer remained at their battle stations with faces and hands covered by a white flashburn cream, for protecting exposed skin, but presenting a ghastly-looking sight.
Repair and damage control parties were going about their duties, combating fires, pumping out flooded compartments. Among the business that accompanies destruction, the wounded were cared for and the charred remains of the dead were swept from the ship. Pieces of the Jap planes were still visible about the decks. The Macomb was presently in position, and took the stricken Laffey under tow. Our combat air patrol circled overhead ready to intercept any incoming raids giving us a greater feeling of security while we sat like a sitting duck in the water. The small but powerful fleet tugs approached quickly relieving us of our burden, and we in turn proceeded back to our station—Roger Peter No. 3.
