The Wiley and the War...  

by RdM2c R. W. (Jerry) Beall

 The Time: Night of February 20-21,

        A hard-shooting ship, USS Henry A. Wiley was nicknamed "The Hammering Hank" for her exploits in bombarding the Japanese on shore and for her ability to blast them out of the sky. Originally designed as the DD-749, but was converted to a 2200 ton destroyer minelayer. One of a squadron of twelve, she was built by the Bethlehem Steel Company, Staten Island, N.Y., and com­missioned at the Brooklyn Navy Yard on 31 August 1944, com­mander R.E. Gadrow, USN took over as the first commanding officer of the ship.

The shakedown cruise was in Bermuda, where ship and crew were tuned like a harp. A brief period in the Brooklyn Navy Yard and the Henry A. Wiley reported "ready for distant service." On 8 November 1944 she took departure from Ambrose Light to ren­dezvous with the battleships Texas, Arkansas, and Missouri for the long trip to Pacific waters.

This is the story of the U.S.S. Henry A. Wiley, a destroyer-mine-layer, and how she helped build the last two stepping stone to Tokyo and Victory.

This is the story of the men and the boys of the Wiley--of the officers who directed her movements and operations and the enlisted men who fired her guns and ran her engines and dropped her buoys and manned her decks and cooked the chow and cared for the sick and performed the scores of other big and little tasks that go into the maintenance of a little city at sea.

This isn't the whole story. You do not take war and wrap it up with neat little ribbons of nouns, adjectives, verbs, adverbs, and exclamation points and say: "This is how war was."

Here, rather, are some of the days . . . some of the nights · . . some of the spectacular and frightening and routine events which the men and the Wiley saw and heard and felt.., clays like May 4, 1945, off Okinawa, when the Wiley went to the aid of the sinking U.S.S. Luce to become not only the first ship in the Okinawa area to knock a Baka Bomb from the air, but the first in the fleet to win credit for two... Nights like at lwo Jima, when the Wiley pulled up close to shore and helped repel a suicide attack by enemy troops... Close enough that the crew could have tossed potatoes at the Japanese soldiers had they not been so busy pumping 5-inch and 40MM and 20MM and 50 calibre shells in that direction.

Planes and bombs splashed and shores bombarded by a destroyer-minelayer. What kind of ship is that?

A fighting ship, a versatile, tough, streamlined fighting ship, that originated in the shipyards as a half-breed, part destroyer and part minelayer.., and wound up the war recognized as a thoroughbred with a hard-won and well-won berth in the frontline fleet.

The Wiley didn't lay a single mine. She planted some buoys as mine field markers with her mine-laying equipment and she provided protection for minesweeps, but she fulfilled her destiny running interference for the big ships.., serving as radar picket... moving up with the battlewagons and cruisers for shore bombardments.., making the airways extra hazardous for Japanese Jills, Jakes, Judys, Bettys, and Bakas.

Some Navy men say the destroyer minelayer, with the possible exception of lack of torpedo tubes, is an improvement over the traditional destroyer. Their thought is the built-in mine apparatus tends to give greater structural strength, that the ship can better survive damage. The men of the Wiley wouldn't know about that for sure on the basis of their own experience. The Wiley, in the face of rugged duty, crippling or fatal to scores of ships, suffered only a few scratches, no cuts.

The Wiley made her war debut at lwo Jima. The official battle action report for February 16 to March 9, 1945, says she was engaged in "Bombardment, illumination and routine screening." That's short, and true, but these five words include a series of one-act plays like this one:

The Place: Mt. Suribachi, lwo Jima. Night of February 20-21, 1945.

As the action unfolds the stage is covered by the curtain of night. Land, sea and sky blend into a uniform blackness.

The first sound is radio request, directed to the Wiley from the beach, asking that the ship come in near the mountain to lend all possible fire support. The Japs, it was explained, were massing for a suicide counter-attack.

A black ghost in a black night, the Wiley starts in at a good clip. As the ship cuts its way through the water and nears its goal, speed is reduced. But she doesn't stop. (The action report will even­tually say she pulled up within 500 yards of the shore line, but men who claimed to hear the bow scrape bottom will say even half that figure represents a masterpiece of understatement).

But finally the Wiley stops. The night has an ominous quiet, broken only at intervals by the crack and flash of Japanese sniping.

Then the word is passed: "Now hear this--the searchlight crew man your stations." A sailor mumbles the thought that immediately hits all minds, "We'll be a perfect target."

The curtain goes up as the darkness is slashed by the light's glare· The beam searches out the Iow plateau and breaks against the sheer, cave-pocked face of Suribachi. The silence that a mo­ment ago blanketed everything is simultaneously shattered. All hell breaks loose as the guns open fire--rapid fire. There is the stutter of the 50's . . . The bop-bop-bop-bop of the 20's . . . The hard, sharp crack of the 40's . . . The thunder of the six 5-inchers. It is like all the Public Park American Fourth-of-July Fireworks displays rolled into one.

A few shells from unknown sources burst near the ship and sometimes there is the spa-n-n-n-g of a rifle bullet against steel.

That's it. The lights go out, the firing stops, the black curtain falls back into place, the Wiley eases out to sea.

POSTSCRIPT: There were no drama critics from the newspapers there. The actors themselves made up the audience. The principal players ashore, for whom the Wiley men constituted a supporting cast were the Fifth Marines. They liked the play. They transmitted a review which went something like "Well Done Hank" and "We owe you a cigar on that one." And that's all there was to it -- except that with a few changes in time and scenery the Wiley supplicated the performance with a fair degree of regularity.

It was not until 12 March that the Wiley secured her position off Iwo Jima. For three weeks the ship kept up a steady pumping of her fire into caves, revetments, pill boxes and enemy troop con­centrations in support of the marines who were inching their way up the tiny island. On the bloody island behind her she had pock­marked the battle scene with over 3,600 rounds of explosive 5-inch shells· With nine pill boxes confirmed destroyed her gunnery was good and all her men knew it.

For the folks back home, the invasion of Okinawa started April 1, 1945, when the troops moved in for what eventually proved to be the last lap of the road to occupy Tokyo.

The Wiley was at Okinawa eight clays before that. Okinawa wasn't secured until late June.

Between March and June the Okinawa campaign, for the Navy, proved in personnel and ship losses the most rugged action of the war since Pearl Harbor itself.

The Wiley was in all of it.

She began the campaign as a support vessel for mine sweeps assigned to clear the Okinawa Gunto area of mines and other menaces to invasion navigation. Before it was over she had splashed ten Japanese planes and two Baka bombs, had assists on two other downed planes and was credited with still another probable . . . She had bombarded beaches... Dropped depth charges on submarine contacts... Searched for Jap suicide ammunition barges · . . Picked up a downed American pilot as well as survivors from an American destroyer. Had seen a Japanese pilot adopt the salt water method of Hara-Kiri by discarding his life jacket as the Wiley approached with the intention of rescuing him... Had felt the jar of an exploding Jap torpedo, which missed . . . And had put in a full share of duty as radar picket, one of the most vital and at the same time most hazardous of all the Okinawa Fleet operations.

It is a long time from the twenty-first day of March until the twenty-third day of June in any year. But, comparatively, the period 28-29 March, 1945, seems in the memories of many Wiley men to make up the greater share of the total campaign time.

Starting at 6:15 a.m. the 28th they were at battle stations continuously until the following night. They began by dunking their first Japanese plane, a Nate attempting a suicide dive. Before the hour was out, they downed another. In the same morning they were alerted for suicide boats, and also delivered harassing fire to the beach. Before midnight a vicious air attack was beaten off, but the ship was jarred by a torpedo which exploded at the end of its run--a near miss.

The next day was no better.

A Jake aimed a bomb which fell into the Wiley's wake, 70 yards astern. Two Nates, with suicide intentions, were knocked down--the second splashing just 75 yards off the starboard bow after the 20MM guns had sliced off a wing. Meanwhile, there were miscellaneous irritations from above and a sub contact from below.

There were plenty of Wiley men who never expected to see the end of those two days, and now, when you ask how it was done, one will say: "Recognition. Our guys could really pick out those plane profiles and identify the Jap bogies fast enough to have us ready for them." Another will say: "Good Gunnery. The gunners were as scared as everyone else all right, but they knew all the time it was either us or the Japs and they stayed right in there and pitched the ammunition right down the middle ." Another will say: "Good Seamanship. The Captain knew how to change the pace with this baby to keep the Japs off balance. The time the torpedo missed he had kept her slow until the Japs were set to attack, then he shoved her up to 25 knots or so, just like that. That's why the torpedo missed--We fouled up the Japs timing." Another will say: "Every guy knew he had responsibility for the other guy." Another will say: "Luck." Another will say: "We prayed a lot, and the prayers were answered."

The right answer is probably the total of all the answers offered. Skill, leadership, loyalty, faith, confidence, and acceptance of responsibility.

Officers and men who rate those March dates as the toughest on the Wiley calendar put May 4 in second place. Others give the top spot to May 4, and second to March 28-29. Anyhow, here's the dope on May:

Trouble tumbled in before dawn, when three enemy planes closed in on the Wiley. One of the three was set afire and crashed into the sea after passing over the ship. Ordinarily, after a splashed bogey hits the drink, it burns but a short time. But this one show­ered flame into the air for more than an hour and the other Japanese pilots, doubtless thinking it a burning American ship, made five bomb runs on the blaze. That kind of warfare the Wiley men liked.

Shortly after morning chow, the Wiley was told to proceed to the assistance of the U.S.S. Luce, reported sinking. The planes which had set the Luce afire were still waiting in the area for the rescue ships, and when the Wiley came into view she got the works.

Two Jills opened the attack, but were driven off. Minutes later a Betty came in and was splashed at 3000 yards, but before anyone could find time for a cheer a Baka bomb was sighted. (Later analysis indicated the Betty had released the Baka then circled as a decoy.) The 20MM boys saw the Baka first and opened up. The bomb, with its human pilot, crashed about 75 yards off the stern.

It proved to be only the Baka beginning. Another was soon taken under fire at two miles and was forced into the sea by the Wiley fire at 1200 yards. The warhead separated from the after body of the bomb, skittered along the water like a well-thrown flat rock and ricocheted over the Wiley's fantail before exploding. Then the planes came back. A torpedo carrying Jill was taken under fire as it roared in from the port side. At almost the same time a Marine Corsair came in for the fight from the opposite direction. Starboard guns held their fire as the Corsair passed directly over the Wiley but the port guns--naturally--couldn't stop. The Marine raced through the thick AA fire to attack the Jill, and brought him down. Although the ship's guns probably would have accounted for the enemy plane, the Marine pilot speeded the final results considerably and his courageous act brought a "Well Done" from every man on the Wiley. Still there was no respite. Another Jill came in from starboard and met the same splashing fate as her mates. The enemy had apparently had enough for awhile and the Wiley could turn its attention to the survivors of the sunken Luce. Eleven men were taken from the water and thirty others, picked up by an LCI, were taken aboard for medical attention.

May 4 didn't end the war. The war didn't end until August, on the 12th of June the Wiley entered the East China Sea as the flagship of her Division Commander, Captain Henry J. Armstrong, USN. She was charged with the task of screening against air and surface attack the minesweepers who were just then commencing the enormous task of clearing the seas of mines from the Northern tip of Formose to the shores of Kyushu. On the night of 12 August in Bucknet Bay, Okinawa, about to depart for the completion of her third operation in the East China Sea, she joined in the wild burst of enthusiasm which welcomed the first rumors of the Japanese surrender. On the night of 14 August, the night before final orders were received to cease offensive operations against the Japanese, darkened under war cruising conditions the Wiley was at General Quarters six times because of the approach of enemy aircraft, and on the sixth opened fire as an attack run was commenced. The attack was driven off, and the only too familiar crash of her guns was the accolade of dawn . . . and peace . . .

But peace did not bring an end to the Wiley's duties, she was assigned as a unit of the active Pacific Fleet. As a member of Minecraft, Pacific Fleet she was committed to the task of flag and navigational vessel for the smaller minesweepers whose work lay uncompleted: the clearing of the Pacific Ocean Areas of the hundreds of thousands of mines that the invasion jittery Japanese had sown. Twice during September she entered Empire Waters, once into the Kii Suido and once into the Bungo Suido. Three times too, during this time she fled the typhoons which struck savagely, and with little warning, from the south. But the luck of the Wiley held good and on 21 October she joined a task force sweeping Tsushima Straits and after a brief rest in Sasebo, Japan, on 1 November commenced operations in the Yellow Sea.

Another rest in Sasebo and she was attached to the Seventh Fleet, commencing operations off the Northern tip of Formosa. On 26 November as Commander of a task unit, the Wiley commenced operations in the Pescadores Islands and the Formose Straits. After a stop in Amoy, China she was ordered to Shanghai for the Christmas season: a ten day reward she richly deserved. On January 3rd, she departed Shanghai for Sasebo when final orders were received to return to the United States for overhaul. On 17 January 1946, a year almost to the day that she had left Pearl Harbor for the forward area, the Henry A. Wiley stood out of Sasebo Ko, her homeward Bound Pennant reaching over the fantail. As she passed her flagship, and the crew at the rails stiffened to attention as she rendered honors, the signal flags fluttered "Well Done," and Rear Admiral A.D. Struble, Commander Minecraft, Pacific Fleet sent, "CominPac commends you for a job well done and all MinPac will long remember the important part you had in the many Pacific operations. Goodbye, Good Luck, and Smooth Sailing." The Wiley turned eastward to retrace her long and tedious track.