DDG in Vietnam and Lessons for the Royal Australian Navy...Just two years after the first of three Charles F. Adams class guided missile destroyers (DDGs) entered service in the RAN,

Australian Centre for the Study of Armed Conflict and Society (ACSACS)

PB | Occasional Paper Series No. 7 Occasional Paper Series No. 7 | 1

Australian Centre for the Study of Armed Conflict and Society Occasional Paper Series No. 7

DDG in Vietnam and Lessons for the Royal Australian NavySeminar Papers 2017

2 | Occasional Paper Series No. 7 Occasional Paper Series No. 7 | 1

ACSACS Occasional Papers Series No.7

Occasional Paper No. 1: Soldiers, Squadrons And Strategists: Building an ethical Backbone for the armies of the twenty-first century – an Anglo-Australian Practitioner’s View. Major Tom McDermott DSO MA.

Occasional Paper No. 2: Nobility Down Under: How the duchess became an Australian. Professor Tom Frame.

Occasional Paper No. 3: Australian Political Perceptions of the 1916 Easter Rising in Dublin. Dr Stephanie James.

Occasional Paper No. 4: Intelligence Analysis: What is it good for? Dr Dirk Maclean.

Occasional Paper No. 5: The Raids Across the Malacca and Singapore Straits during Confrontation 1963-66. Dr Andrew Ross. Edited by Dr Rita Parker (2017).

Occasional Paper No. 6: We Need to Talk About Marine A’Constant War, Diminished Responsibility and the case of Alexander Blackman Lieutenant Colonel Tom McDermott DSO MA. Dr Andrew Ross. Edited by Dr Rita Parker (2017).

ACSACS Occasional Paper No. 7 : “DDG in Vietnam and Lessons for the Royal Australian Navy” written by Rear Admiral David Campbell (Retd), Captain David Cotsell RAN (Retd), Warrant Officer Peter Eveille RAN (Retd), Rear Admiral Peter Purcell AO RAN (Retd), Vice Admiral David Shackleton

AO RAN (Retd), Vice Admiral Rob Walls AO RAN (Retd) and edited by Dr Rita Parker (2017).



Contents

Occasional Paper Series .............................................................................................................................................................2

Background to this Occasional Paper.........................................................................................................................................2

About the Authors ........................................................................................................................................................................3

Glossary and Acronyms ..............................................................................................................................................................3

I Impact of the DDGs on the RAN by David Shackleton .............................................................................................................4

II Naval Operations by Rob Walls .................................................................................................................................................7

III Logistics Aspects by David Campbell .....................................................................................................................................11

IV Technical Aspects by Peter Purcell ..........................................................................................................................................15

V Reflections of a Junior Officer by David Cotsell .....................................................................................................................18

VI Reflections of a Junior Sailor by Peter Evielle ........................................................................................................................24



Occasional Papers SeriesThe ACSACS on-line publication series embodies UNSW Canberra’s commitment to engaging in public discussion and, where possible, the development of public policy. This series was created in response to requests from Centre Fellows and Adjunct Lecturers for a vehicle to gain an audience for research and writing that relates to specialist topics that are not addressed in standard scholarly publications. Three broad categories of work are ‘published’ in the Series – Position Papers, Working Papers and Occasional Papers – each reflecting the length and purpose of the manuscript rather than its academic discipline. Position Papers are 2,000-4000 words in length and seek to shape debate, direct discussion or outline a position on some aspect of policy. The emphasis is on highly topical work embodying the opinion and judgements of the contributor on matters of contemporary concern. Working Papers are 3,000-5,000 words and are intended to be ‘work-in-progress’. Papers in this category are offered for comment from other scholars working in the area. These papers are ‘first drafts’ of more substantial pieces of writing and present interim conclusions. Occasional Papers exceed 5,000 words and constitute completed work. Papers in this category include high quality descriptive and analytical work that might be too specialised or too topical for a scholarly journal. There is no upper word limit for papers in this category. These papers are available in identical HTML and print-ready PDF formats and include an author note, illustrative material and references for further ready. The series is promoted through UNSW Canberra and ACSACS Twitter accounts operated by the Centre Manager. Submission Guidelines Researchers interested in having their work appear in the series are encouraged to contact the Director of ACSACS in the first instance. Prospective contributors need to decide whether their submissions are to be assessed as Position, Working or Occasional Papers. Copies of the UNSW Press Author Pack containing guidelines on style and format are available from the Centre Manager.

Background to this Occasional PaperMarking the 50th anniversary of the RAN involvement in the Vietnam War, the Naval Studies Group of the Australian Centre for Armed Conflict and Society held two seminars. The first was The DDGs in Vietnam & Lessons for the RAN at the UNSW/Australian Defence Force Academy on 17 August 2017. The second seminar, on the RAN Helicopter Flight in Vietnam, was held in October 2017 at the Australian Naval Aviation Museum at HMAS Albatross.

Just two years after the first of three Charles F. Adams class guided missile destroyers (DDGs) entered service in the RAN, HMAS Hobart sailed for the Vietnam War. This Occasional Paper examines the impact of the DDGs on the RAN, their role in the Vietnam War, logistics and technical issues as well as the human dimension. Each chapter is written by veterans of that war and include five admirals, each with a deep understanding of the destroyers’ service in the Vietnam War.

The Impact of the DDGs on the RAN



About the Authors

Rear Admiral David Campbell AM RAN (Retired)

Rear Admiral David Campbell served as the Deputy Supply Officer and then Supply Officer of HMAS Hobart in 1969–71. This period included the ship’s third Vietnam deployment. Six further supply-related postings ashore and afloat culminated in appointments as Naval Support Commander and Head Strategic Logistics, all of which drew heavily on his DDG experience.

Captain David Cotsell RAN (Retired)

David was a professional naval officer for 23 years with wide operational experience including HMAS Hobart’s second Vietnam deployment in 1968. He specialised in naval communications and held several senior communications positions including Director of Naval Communications prior to leaving the permanent Navy. David subsequently joined the Victorian Public Service as Manager of the Telecommunications Management Division of the Victoria Police. Later, he undertook policy development, strategic planning and project management tasks for Navy and Defence as an officer of the Naval Reserve and as a private consultant. David has been very active in rural affairs in Victoria as a Shire Councillor for 16 years and as Mayor. He remains active in community affairs in the Geelong region.

Warrant Officer Peter Eveille RAN (Retired)

Peter served in the Royal Australian Navy for 20 years. Operational duties included three deployments to Vietnam in HMAS Perth. He trained and qualified as an Air Intercept Controller in Virginia USA and as an Anti-Submarine Air Controller at HMAS Watson. Peter also served over two years’ exchange service with the United States Navy which included a 12-month posting to the USS England and a deployment to the Middle East. Peter retired as a Warrant Officer from the Navy in 1985. He went on to a second career in the Australian Public Service and has devoted much time supporting a range of veteran organizations.

Rear Admiral Peter Purcell AO RAN (Retired)

Peter Purcell joined the RAN in 1958 and became a Weapons Electrical Engineering Officer. His postings included Weapons Electrical Engineering Officer on HMAS Hobart during her eventful second Vietnam deployment and subsequently involved in the modernization of the class. Peter went on to be Director of Naval Weapons Design Director of the Inshore Minehunter Project, Director General Equipment Projects, Assistant Chief of Naval Staff (Materiel) and finally Head Systems Acquisition (Maritime & Ground) for the Department of Defence. He retired from the RAN in 1999. Since that time, Peter has worked in industry and has been an advisor to Defence on acquisition and project management.

Vice Admiral David Shackleton AO RAN (Retired)

David Shackleton joined the RAN from Adelaide as a Supplementary List seaman officer in 1966. He served in HMAS Perth on her second Vietnam deployment from September 1968 to April 1969, earning his full bridge watchkeeping certificate under the future CNS, Captain David Leach, RAN. After training as an air controller and operations room watchkeeper, he transferred to the General List and underwent warfare officer training and exchange service with the RN from 1975 to 1978. He later commanded the frigate HMAS Derwent and then the destroyer HMAS Brisbane, the latter being his fifth posting to a DDG, thereby completing service in all three of the class. He was promoted to Vice Admiral in July 1999 and commanded the RAN as Chief of Navy until his retirement in July 2002.

Vice Admiral Rob Walls AO RAN (Retired)

Vice Admiral Rob Walls was the third last 13 year old Cadet Midshipman to join the RAN in 1955. He was in the commissioning crew of the second HMAS Hobart in Boston, Massachusetts in December 1965, and served in Vietnam in Hobart in 1967. Later he served in HMAS Perth twice, once as Executive Officer, and in HMAS Brisbane as Commanding Officer. He also commanded HMAS Tobruk, the Australian Amphibious Squadron, HMAS Moreton, and the Australian Fleet. Vice Admiral Walls retired from uniformed service as the Vice Chief of the Defence Force in 1997.

Glossary and AcronymsAA Anti-Air.

AAW Anti-Air Warfare.

AIC Air Intercept Controller.

C4ISR Command, Control, Communications, Computers, Intelligence, Surveillance and Reconnaissance. Also often expressed as variations such as C3I, C2, ISR etc.

CIC Combat Information Centre.

CPORP

DDG NATO standard designation for Guided Missile Destroyer.

DSO Deputy Supply Officer.

EAXA Eastern Australian Exercise Area.

EW Electronic Warfare.

FHQ Fleet Headquarters.

FTG Fleet Training Group.

HODs Heads of Department.

Ikara Australian anti-submarine missile.

JPTDS Junior Participating Tactical Data System.

Magazine Ammunition storage area.

MEO Mechanical Engineering Officer.

NCDS Naval Combat Data System.

OIC Officer in Charge.

OOW Officer of the Watch.

ORO Operations Room Officer course.



PIRAZ Positive Identification Radar Advisory Zone.

POQMG Petty Officer Quarter Master Gunner.

Pusser Colloquialism referring to

PWO Principal Warfare Officer.

RAN Royal Australian Navy.

RIMPAC Rim of the Pacific Exercise – world’s largest international maritime warfare exercise.

RN Royal Navy (British).

Seaslug British surface-to-air missile.

Tartar US Navy anti-air missile system.

UHF Ultra-High Frequency radio.

USAF United States Air Force.

USN United States Navy.

WEEO Weapons Electrical Engineering Officer.

Woomera Long-range test range in South Australia.

XO Executive Officer.

The Impact of the DDGs on the RANBy Vice Admiral David Shackleton AO RAN (Retired)

Introduction

I will examine the broader implications brought to the Royal Australian Navy’s (RAN) professionalisation through the Charles F Adams class guided missile destroyers (DDGs). I’ll integrate some personal experiences which, in one way or another, characterised the DDG environment and made them so rewarding to serve in.

Throughout their service lives the DDGs were the most capable and important surface combatants in the RAN and, when HMAS Melbourne paid off, they effectively became the Navy’s capital ships. They were central to the RAN’s shift of alignment away from the Royal Navy (RN) toward the United States Navy, and for the RAN having to learn how to be self-reliant. Hence, I don’t think it is an overstatement to say that the impact of the DDGs on the RAN has been nothing short of profound, which this seminar helps to put into perspective and give due credit.

In the 36 years from when HMAS Perth first entered service in 1965, to when HMAS Brisbane as the last ship decommissioned in 2001, the RAN transitioned from effectively being an extension of the RN, to having a force structure predominantly based on US-origin ships, combat systems and weapons, aircraft, intelligence systems, and all manner of other capabilities in the middle. Even the submariners were in the game.

We became more self-confident and self-reliant as a Navy. We had produced our first version of our own maritime doctrine, we trained all our officers and sailors in Australian training institutions, and we could demonstrate that we were as good as anybody else in running a medium power Navy, although some might question that statement.

In effect, we had arrived - as Australia’s Navy. I don’t overlook our problems or ignore that we had managed to get some things badly wrong, but we had come a long way. The DDGs were very important catalysts in generating the need for change in the RAN. Not the least because they were American, and not British.

Vietnam was to demonstrate how competent the RAN had become in the operation of surface combatants. But I would be highly remiss not to give full recognition of the benefit we had received as a navy from our relationship with the RN. Every officer who commissioned a DDG had been trained in Australia, and the vast majority had also been trained and possibly had exchange service with the RN. All of our sailors had been trained in Australia but to standards we learned from the RN. It is fair to say that they individually and collectively had the ability to learn how to skilfully operate and maintain what were at the time the most advanced analogue destroyers in the United States Navy (USN).

We got the logistics piece badly wrong. When Perth was three months from returning to Australia from trials in the US, its in-country spares had still not been ordered from the USN, and the ship was expected to become unsupportable shortly after it arrived in Sydney.

When HMAS Hobart commissioned, Captain Guy Griffiths reconnected with a World War II USN colleague who he imposed upon to put Hobart through the USN Fleet Training Group work up program for a newly commissioning DDG. Guy was so impressed he wrote to Fleet Headquarters advocating adoption of a similar concept, with it eventually being taken up.

When I joined Perth with my compatriot Sub Lieutenants Bob White and Bob Darlington to earn our bridge watchkeeping certificates, we didn’t appreciate that we were joining a ship with a crew which had already adopted the highest standards possible. We were going to war, and it was time to get serious. The DDG standard was to eventually become the RAN’s benchmark. I’ll give an example. I joined Perth from HMAS Vampire, which still had an open bridge. On one of the many middle-watches I seemed to keep as a trainee, whilst on passage from Jervis Bay to Sydney and with the loom of Sydney lights clearly visible on the port bow but no land within 30 miles on the radar, the Officer of the Watch (OOW) had declared emphatically that we were lost. I was sent to summon the navigator, Mike Keay, to come to the bridge and fix the ship. I won’t dwell on the personal abuse which transpired, but even as a junior officer I could tell the difference between Perth and Vampire was like chalk and cheese.

Perth’s workup was serious business. My action station was the Anti-Air (AA) Control Officer, or Gun Direction Officer (GDO) Visual. Mike Ward had been the Gunnery Officer in Vampire and now Perth, so I got the job he had trained me up for. But I had to find sailors who knew how the AA Control equipment worked so they could teach me. It was pretty smart stuff. But in our wisdom, we hadn’t bought any training equipment for the ships. On Perth’s first deployment, Orm Cooper whose normal role was as the gun system Weapons Electrical Engineering Officer (WEEO), was made the gunplot officer because the

I



Fortunately that situation didn’t arise, but it raises questions about rules of engagement and how matters were conducted. On Hobart’s first deployment Guy Griffiths periodically found coordination between US forces to be seriously lacking, and that Hobart would transit long distances at high speed for no good reason.

The handover process between Hobart and Perth was concluded for us Subbies by an innocent introduction to some of the attractions to be found in Olongapo. Such an experience helped me gain an understanding of the cultural norms of that era. The XO had decided that when we were in Subic Bay, the three Subbies would be 1-in-3 as shore patrol officers. This involved arriving at the USN shore patrol HQ adjacent to the Olongapo and naval base gate, and joining with the USN shore patrol contingent whilst awaiting the occasional call.

When all was quiet we took rides in jeeps to inspect the town and its features; which could simply be summarised as ‘interesting’. When Australian sailors were reported as causing a problem, it was my responsibility to investigate. The USN did not like confronting Australian sailors because they answered back and didn’t respond well to their authority. Whereas, as one of their own, I was invariably offered a San Miguel beer and a space to join in the party, and then discuss why their lives were so full of meaning. The problem was usually solved amicably by exploring a few facts of life.

It made sense for the Navy to reinvest in my self-taught DDG training and experience, as it also did for others. That recycling of people back through the ships, however, helped overcome the inadequate training arrangements which existed in Australia for much of their service.

Prior to joining Hobart for a further deployment, in 1970, I undertook the 16-week Operations Room Officer (ORO) course, or ‘Little D’ course as it was known, at HMAS Watson. The course was very good with various aspects of practice and theory, but the technical aspects were all about RN equipment, and nothing about the DDGs. When I arrived in Hobart it was fortunate that they had developed excellent self-help folders for people like me.

Hobart underwent its workup and we had finished our pre-deployment leave period. But the government changed its mind about us going. I found out when I heard it on the radio news while inbound from home to the dockyard. The Captain found out the night before when the duty officer told him, after his wife had phoned to tell him it was on the TV news.

Our consolation prize was to become HMAS Melbourne’s DDG. This marked an important point though. This was the first time a DDG had broken the mould of working up and deploying to Vietnam, which in the process had effectively segregated them from the rest of the RAN.

The ships were good places to learn about leadership and I’ll given an example. While on our way to RIMPAC, the Melbourne Task Group normally did OOW manoeuvres between 0600 and 0800. Those at breakfast really enjoyed it.

As OOW of Hobart I managed to go through the slot while still doing 24 knots, and rang down half-astern to get the speed off. The Captain was sitting in his chair with a wry

Chief Fire Control whose job it should have been couldn’t be trained on the system before the ship deployed.

Two of us Subbies found ourselves in an AA-Control watchbill with a Petty Officer Quarter Master Gunner (POQMG), and the third took notes around the bombardment navigation plot. But Captain David Leach took considerable interest in us ‘newbies’, and after a non-too-subtle remark one of us made about not getting time on the bridge to earn a watchkeeping certificate, changes were made. We did receive our full tickets before the deployment finished, but we had to sit a formal board of examination with all the Heads of Department (HODs) and sub-specialist officers, finished off personally by the Captain, before we could get it.

The term ‘First XI’ has been used to describe the standard of a DDG wardroom. It was certainly true back then. David Leach was a four ring Captain on his second drive. David Thompson was the Executive Officer (XO) and had commissioned Perth as its navigator and then navigated HMAS Sydney, he was promoted to Commander during our deployment. The WEEO was Des Miller and the Mechanical Engineering Officer (MEO) was Aiden Lade, and both were Commanders. Brian Gibbs was the Lieutenant Commander pusser. And every seaman sub-specialist was a Lieutenant Commander long course qualified officer, and there were five of them. There was most definitely a sergeant’s end of the wardroom table; but it was friendly. How could you not learn a lot from that group in that environment?

I’ve served in DDGs five times, and progressed from laundry and morale, through bridge and Combat Information Centre (CIC) watchkeeping, to XO and then command. As a colleague has said; DDG service sharpened you up. At the outset, for me and quite likely for others, to be chosen for a DDG in those early days was almost certainly the luck of the draw in a Navy that was expanding and already very busy. It was to my everlasting benefit.

After our final battle problem, Perth was nominated to conduct the first public firing of the Australian Ikara anti-submarine missile. The press, multiple politicians and the Fleet Commander Admiral Gordon ‘Buster’ Crabb were duly embarked to witness the spectacle. Next day on the front page of The Australian the Admiral was reported as accusing the Government of neglecting the Navy, and that he considered that three DDGs were not enough. This story overshadowed somewhat the report on the Ikara firing, which as I remember was done on a fixed range and bearing. Media training for senior naval officers might have become more important around that time.

After I passed my ocean navigation certificate for the second time and through no special effort on my part, we arrived in Subic Bay and berthed on Hobart. She was still showing the scars of it being attacked by the United States Air Force (USAF).

David Leach had decided that his policy on such matters was to always shine a bright light on a large white star painted on the quarterdeck, and simultaneously squirt both missile system fire control radars at any aircraft coming toward the ship and regarded as threat, while calling on the air emergency radio frequency of 243.0.



Understanding the management of projects and operational requirements has taken some time. We bought the DDGs without a definitive statement of requirements and without a project office. We later bought Naval Combat Data System (NCDS) without knowing in detail what its operational parameters were and its performance was a shock to Fleet staff. We undertook the second modernisation of the DDGs in a manner which resulted in the project being unable to prepare a test and evaluation master plan of any consequence. Brisbane needed further modification before it went to the first Gulf War, even though it had only finished its second update two years earlier.

Even with other improvements, their second modernisation in the mid-to-late-1980s still left the DDGs fitted with Standard Missile 1 (SM-1), whereas the USN had been introducing SM-2 from the mid-1970s, and with some work could have replaced the DDG system.

Hence, the combat systems of ships were obsolescent by the mid-1980s and obsolete after the first Gulf War, by which time SM-1 was only a self-defence weapon, and probably of marginal performance against current threats. To be fair, neither Australia’s senior Defence bureaucrats nor its politicians understood what they really wanted from their Navy, and the RAN was a lone voice.

Regardless, technical alignment with the USN, and through-life supportability of the ships were the primary drivers of those major modifications, and not operational performance against current and postulated threats. In reality, we kept the ships in service for about a decade too long.

The DDGs were American warships manned by an all-Australian crew. They had minimal common features of our RN-origin ships, although some damage control markings were similar. When they were building we had insisted on having a Wardroom bar, a separate Captain’s pantry and Petty Officer’s cafe, and doors on the heads. So there were some aspects of our RN heritage carried forward.

Academic research has highlighted the cultural divide between RAN officers and sailors up to the mid-50s. If it still existed by the mid-1960s, I was too focused on surviving as a junior officer to notice it. Although Perth’s officers had responsibilities, so too did her sailors, and service by both constituencies while on operations required the development of high levels of trust and support for each other which lesser stressful circumstances do not necessarily inculcate. Hence, it was an-all Australian show where any cultural attributes which could have been described as RN in nature, were well overshadowed by the Australian attributes of RAN officers and sailors.

Finally, let me turn to an issue which just about everybody has an interest in - I’m talking about promotions. Peter Eveille might be able to shed light on the ‘DDG effect’ for promotions so far as sailors were concerned, but there most definitely was such an effect for DDG Commanding Officers and Heads of Departments.

When the ships were operational or completing trials and the officer stayed in command, there were 68 officers of Captain, Commander or Lieutenant Commander rank

smile on his face and seemed nonplussed. Unlike me who tried to look totally in control while feeling wretched.

The flashing light message to Hobart from the Flagship was: ‘report name of Officer of the Watch’. To which Rocker promptly told the Yeoman to reply: ‘Robertson’.

It was a demonstration of leadership, accountability and loyalty downwards which I never forgot, either in my own commands or in other circumstances. It was a salutary lesson in terms of ‘the buck stops here’.

Provided you learned from them, I thought the DDG environment in Vietnam, and later, encouraged that sense of support and tolerance of mistakes, and your growth as a naval officer.

The RAN staff requirement for a Surface to Air Guided Weapon Ship which led to acquisition of the DDGs had been for a modern all-purpose escort, which was somewhat far sighted in concept. The ship was to have three medium helicopters, variable depth and hull mounted sonar, a medium calibre gun, a surface to air missile system and Ikara. But such a ship didn’t exist.

The Naval Board knew that the British Seaslug missile had technical problems because it had access to all the Woomera trials results. Guy Griffiths thought Seaslug was aptly named. The USN Tartar missile was deemed much better, and theoretically could be retrofitted in the Darings, and Ikara was intended too.

Chief of Naval Staff (CNS) Vice Admiral Henry Burrell wanted a modified RN County class destroyer, with Tartar fitted instead of Seaslug, and the propulsion system changed to be all-steam, instead of combined steam-gas.

The Minister for the Navy, Senator John Gorton made the call for the Adams class because it provided the RAN with USN standardisation, which was the overriding concern of the government; and they were in-service. What neither of them knew when we signed the contract, was that Tartar also had major reliability problems that wouldn’t be fixed until about when Perth was building.

The Ikara magazine was fitted to the ships as they were constructed. It was made from aluminium. In examining options for RAN modifications to the Adams class to carry helicopters and VDS, the USN had proposed placing the Ikara magazine between the machinery spaces, taking missiles to the launcher via a lift. This arrangement required removal of Mount 52 and introduced blind arc and blast problems for Tartar. The idea was eventually dropped.

Shortly after its arrival in Subic Bay for its first deployment, Perth landed its complete outfit of Ikara missiles after seeing a USN DDG with its upper deck shredded by shrapnel, and being advised by the USN that carriage of Ikara represented a risk if Perth took similar damage. Hobart did the same on its second deployment, which is probably a good thing, because the effect of a USAF Sparrow missile whizzing around inside a loaded magazine could have been quite spectacular.



who commanded a DDG. Of that number, 55 reached the rank of Commodore, representing an 81% strike rate. Of 12 officers reaching Vice Admiral between 1982 and 2005, 10 had commanded a DDG.

With one exception, from 1955 to 1982, the RAN had been commanded by an officer who had also commanded an aircraft carrier. From 1982 to 2008, also with one exception, it was commanded by an officer who had commanded a DDG. The time span of those two periods give lie to the impact those officers individually and collectively had on the development and culture of the RAN.

But it wasn’t just the seaman officers. Between 1979 and 2001 there were 5 WEEOs promoted to Rear Admiral, of which four had been the WEEO of a DDG, and from 1984 to 2001 there were five Supply Officers promoted to Rear Admiral, of which four had also been the Supply Officer of a DDG. Both therefore had a strike rate of 80%. DDG MEO’s fared less well as a group, probably because of the requirement to recruit MEOs from senior sailors who didn’t get the opportunity to gain the breadth needed at higher rank.

If winning the Gloucester Cup1 is one measure of high standards, Hobart won it eight times; and until the year 2001 this was more than any other ship previously; Brisbane won it three times, and Perth once. The disparity is interesting, but as a class, the DDGs were consistent winners.

Concluding Remarks

Let me conclude. The high standard with which the ships operated operated was testimony to the professionalism of their crews. The environment demanded high standards from officers and sailors alike who had to trust and respect each other in ways which are necessary in operational circumstances. There was no room for passengers. Doing that in an American built warship designed for USN operating concepts, methods and practices, meant that the RAN learned a great deal about modern naval operations it simply could not have done if it had bought an RN destroyer.

Acquiring a modified County class would have been nothing short of catastrophic. It would potentially have caused the government to lose much confidence in its navy, and it would have kept the RAN closer to the RN for longer. It would have delayed the inevitability of the RAN developing its own persona as Australia’s navy, a cultural shift it needed to make.

When we bought the ships we didn’t know what we didn’t know. This is not at all unusual, but recognising that there are gaps in knowledge and taking steps to minimise risk is always important.

It is perhaps unfair to criticise those in office at the time, but their knowledge of contemporary technology and naval concepts was lacking. It is fortunate that in the USN they had an understanding counterpart in the form of Chief of Naval Operations, Admiral Arleigh Burke, who recognised that the

1 The Gloucester Cup is annually awarded to the ship with the best overall operational proficiency in the Fleet.

RAN could be a valuable ally, and so for the first time the USN agreed to export one of its most advanced ships to a foreign country.

Vietnam operations built a relationship between the RAN and USN which continues today as a deep and helpful one, and very much to our mutual benefit. But it doesn’t replace the need for us to be a competent and self-reliant organisation and able to make our own choices – and for our own reasons.

It can properly be said that the RAN’s formation of operational and other expertise were significantly aided by a prolonged period of intimate support by the RN. Buying the DDGs unwittingly placed all of that heritage and benefit at risk, not the least because it would not be possible for the RAN to replicate its RN relationship with the USN.

By the year 2001 when the last DDG paid off, the RAN had become much more self-reliant and confident as a medium power Navy than it had been in 1960 when Australia’s government decided to acquire the ships.

In retrospect, this can now be seen as an unplanned but nonetheless essential transition the RAN had to make for both itself and Australia. And I assert that the DDGs were powerful catalysts in making that transition come about.

II Naval Operations

By Vice Admiral Rob Walls AO RAN (Retired)

On the afternoon of 18th December 1965, as a youngish Lieutenant, I was standing pierside in freezing conditions as one of the crew in the commissioning ceremony of HMAS Hobart in Boston Naval Shipyard. The following day and night it snowed heavily. The morning following the storm, with USN advice, we began clearing ice off the ship’s rigging and decks.

I’m not all sure how or why the officers’ posters got me there, but it was the beginning of a chain of events that shaped the rest of my life, particularly my naval career. In the first half of the 1960s I served in two frigates and then in the commissioning crew of HMAS Derwent. I saw Active Service at sea in the Malayan Emergency, and Konfrontasi against Indonesia. Minor events in the great scheme of things.

Through the late 1950s1950s and early 1960s, the RAN had been transitioning from a post-World War II/Korea navy, closely related and in part integrated with the British Royal Navy, into an Australian one.

When I joined Britannia Royal Naval College, Dartmouth as a Midshipmen in 1959, the RAN was at a nadir of men and equipment. You are probably aware that in the early 1960s, there were a number of naval mishaps and ‘accidents’, such as the Melbourne-Voyager collision, which reflected on officer quality and naval leadership. Even so, the RAN was on its way back up. Re-vitalisation of the Navy had started with then Navy Minister John Gorton, later Prime Minister, and Vice Admiral Henry Burrell.



The 1960s and early 1970s saw a massive sub-surface, surface, and aviation force development program for the RAN which had far reaching effects on structure, organisation, logistics, and training, to name but a few. As well, there was a significant increase in manpower in the early 1960s, and this was continued through to the 1970s. These changes – and, as British Prime Minister Harold MacMillan said at the time, “Events, dear boy, events” - lead to what I assert was a significant lift in performance by the RAN. Vietnam was one of these events, and a catalyst for improvement.

It might surprise you to learn that the Navy was better prepared to make its contribution to the Vietnam War in 1965 than could have been anticipated in 1960. Now back to the good ship Hobart. Captain Guy Griffiths was already an experienced warrior who knew the face of naval battle. He started his World War II as a Midshipman by surviving the sinking of HMS Repulse by the Japanese off the coast of Malaya. He was awarded the DSC for service at Lingayen Gulf. Later, he served in Korea.

Captain Griffiths, having seen that HMAS Perth had undergone a ’minimalist’ training program in the US after commissioning – as indeed did Brisbane which followed later - was determined to get the best he could for his ship and its company, and he wanted to make sure that everyone knew their jobs as well as possible. He personally researched and liaised so that he knew what the USN had to offer, and how best to get it for Hobart. As an aside, Brisbane had an appointment in Vietnam, and training in the US and Australia was on a short timeline. You can draw your own conclusions.

For us, there was a strictly supervised US led Test, Trials, and Evaluation period off the East Coast of the USA, extending through the Panama Canal to San Diego. This was followed by a post Shakedown Availability in Long Beach Shipyard. Before and after the Availability, the ship was in the hands of Commander Training Pacific (COMTRAPAC) and the Fleet Training Group.

I found this whole process of bringing a newly built warship into operational service remarkably better – more effective, more efficient - than anything that I had experienced the year before in Derwent. The USN process was structured, coordinated, quality controlled and documented; with repeats when needed. I had no doubt that we needed such a systems approach in the RAN. Their Fleet Training Group, which was led by a USN Captain, and supported by Hobart’s Captain, had a dramatic impact on the ship, and later, the Australian Fleet.

To use an old-fashioned expression that’s now up-to-date, Captain Griffiths work came up ‘trumps’. We all “knew” we were heading for Vietnam, just like every other USN ship the Fleet Training Group was preparing for service in WestPac. Captain Griffiths worked us hard, we loved our ‘magic’ ship with its magnificent new systems and equipment, and we did well. “Outstanding” said the Fleet Training Group. We got back to Australia in September 1966, and, after a major exercise, SWORDHILT, it was home for Christmas. Our Christmas present was being told: ‘Go to Vietnam’.

We had some crew changes but essentially, we were much the same ship’s company. We did a workup in

the Eastern Australian Exercise Area (EAXA) for mainly naval gunfire support (NGS), surface warfare and anti-air warfare (AAW), but since we weren’t sure what we might face, we made extensive use of the USN FTG scenarios. In those days, the Australian Fleet Staff just

“oversighted” ship workups, which were run by the ships themselves. Performance in the fleet was assessed by annual competitions between ships for a series of Cups and Shields, eg for Gunnery… Readiness was not in the lexicon.

A lesson was learnt about developing ships performance [and thus improving readiness] from this, and the work up process for DDGs was changed at the end of that year (1967-68).

On the 1st March 1967 Hobart was at sea, preparing for missile firings. At 0900 the ship changed to the Australian White Ensign. Captain Griffiths said in his Report of Proceedings [those were the days!] “The significance of this act was appreciated by all on board.” At this point, I should offer an explanation. The brief I was given for today is shown here:

“It is as much about your personal experiences and how they affected your thinking and evolution as a naval officer, and that of the RAN, as your career progressed.”

Thus -“From your experiences on Vietnam operations, what resonated most with you in terms of your exposure to those circumstances in affecting the RAN’s longer-term professionalism and culture.”

This ‘short’ presentation then is very much a personal perspective. Hobart left Sydney on the evening of 7th March 1967 for a fast passage to the Philippines. Shortly

HMAS HOBART’S Program with Seventh Fleet, 1967Sydney – 8 March Subic Bay31 Mar – 15 Apr: Gunline, mostly southern I Corps, south of DMZ

16 Apr – 23 Apr: Operation SEA DRAGON, Coastal North Vietnam

23 Apr – 29 Apr: Yankee Station, Tonkin Gulf. USS Kittyhawk – AIC

Subic Bay8 May – 26 May: Operation SEA DRAGON

4 May – 18 May: USS Long Beach – AIC, W/LSRP Halliwell

Subic BayKeelung, Taiwan

Subic Bay17 Jun – 22 Jun: Gunline, I Corps

22 Jun – 9 Jul: Operation SEA DRAGON

Hong Kong/Subic Bay24 Jul – 16 Aug: Operation SEA DRAGON

29 Jul – 30 Jul: USS Forrestal Fire!

Subic Bay/Hong Kong6 Sep – 12 Sep: Gunline, I Corps

Subic Bay Turnover to HMAS Perth

Sydney – 27 Sep



after clearing the Heads, training serials for the Operations Room crews and our USN trained Air Intercept Controllers [I was one] were conducted through the night with the Control and Reporting Unit at RAAF Brookvale and Mirage IIIC aircraft from 75 SQN, RAAF WILLIAMTOWN.

This was the first time that I know of the RAAF helping prepare RAN ships for combat operations through a series of training exercises. These had been initiated after Hobart’s return to Australia. The practice has continued ever since – for example, I saw it in the First Gulf War. A lesson learned.

After extensive briefings from 7th Fleet staff, and an extremely helpful and supportive welcome from the USN in Subic Bay, Hobart headed for the gunline off the South Vietnamese coast. Firing on the gunline commenced on 31st March 1967. Captain Griffiths reported that “our morale was high”.

My experiences in Vietnam operations then. A couple of things worth remarking. As well as my work in Hobart as a 5” Control Officer, an Operations Room Officer (ORO), and an Air Intercept Controller (AIC), on SEA DRAGON operations north of the DMZ and the Gunline to the south; I also served as an AIC in the aircraft carrier USS Kittyhawk (doing ALFA Strikes on North Vietnam), and the guided missile nuclear cruiser USS Long Beach (performing as Positive Identification Radar Advisory Zone [PIRAZ] ship in the Gulf of Tonkin). In Long Beach, I used the Naval Tactical Data System (NTDS) computers to assist vectoring fighters toward North Vietnamese attacking aircraft. The tactical air picture was compiled using the assistance of information exchanged between units in real-time, via data links, which Hobart did not have. More eye-opening. A lesson learned.

Training

The first item I would comment on is TRAINING. Time and again, in situations of stress and demand, for example, under enemy fire, the vital value of the intense training we had had in the USA, and later under Captain Griffiths direction, proved its worth. I state categorically that it saved our lives.

It also helped us create an operational reputation for the RAN that earned high praise from the USN, and the Marines and soldiers we supported on the beach and beyond. It’s a good feeling to know that, to the folks ashore, you are the shooter of choice. The DDGs performance had a positive effect on the whole Navy. The late 1960s saw the beginnings of the RAN School of Training Technology and a systems approach to training. I learned from that. Much development has occurred since then, of course.

The impact of the Hobart example on me was that my approach to training and its vitality was shaped for the rest of my career. I was known to be somewhat merciless about it! All the way through to Fleet Commander. A maxim for you? “Train hard – the life you save could be your own!”

Another thing that happened to me in Hobart was that, as I had attempted to keep up with individual USN training

standards by attending extra night school, and to come to grips with the technology in the ships systems and equipment, I realised the value of technical education. I needed to become technically literate, and took steps to be so. Related to this, in those days in the RAN, there was a clear division of labour between operators and maintainers. But it was equally evident that in DDGs, systems such as those related to missiles and gunnery had positions that were obviously better performed by a maintainer than a so-called operator. If you like, a Merger & Acquisition process applied. Another lesson.

People

My next item interacts directly with the first. It’s PEOPLE. Some of the crew for Hobart were quite carefully selected – but not all – nonetheless by March 1967 it was clear that the ship’s teamwork hummed. I could add that that was because of, as well as in spite of, some of the personalities we had onboard. USN superlatives for this team included:

• Strong Leadership,

• Excellent Training,

• Outstanding Professionalism, and

• Superb Performance.

My post-Vietnam view is that we were really enthusiastic about our ship, we thought we were lucky, and we wanted to stay that way. I would also observe that there was a distinct separateness between officers and men in the late 1950s/early 1960s, which preparation for and service in Vietnam put aside. The “Royal American Navy”, as some called the DDGs, helped blaze the trail for better relationships and better performance. I don’t believe that that has changed for the worse in the years since.

For me, as a product of essentially Royal Navy approaches to training – I served five and a half years in the RN – part of this self-evolution was the US Navy’s approach to its sailors.

Bear in mind too that this was the mid-1960s, a time of social change: Hippies, Flower Power, and the sexual revolution – “If you’re going to San Francisco…?” Hobart did.

When I did my “re-qual” up to USN standards as an Air Intercept Controller at Dam Neck, Virginia, in November 1965, I was amazed at the performance and quality of work of the USN Petty Officers and Chiefs, who did about 75% of the USN’s aircraft control. Further, in 1965 USN controllers were being trained ambidextrously to handle legacy analogue equipment on old ships and digital NTDS for new ships.

My next lesson learnt then: early on I formed the view that the RAN should make much better and wider use of its operational sailors, for example as Air Controllers - of all types.

Captain Griffiths needed little persuading, and we qualified two sailor AICs before leaving the States – Garry Barnes and Butch Halliwell. Sailor air controllers proved their worth in a variety of Vietnam operations, particularly handling aircraft spotting fall of shot – vital in counter-battery situations. We were under enemy fire nine times.



More sailors followed for all the DDGs: they were normally selected after qualifying as an RAN ASAC. At least six Sub Lieutenants and Leading Seaman Radar Plotters were subsequently trained in the US: Peter Eveille was one of them.

A further lesson was that the RAN needed to go digital for its operations: it had to join the automation revolution rather than waiting to be led.

Digital Future

Now that’s a simple remark, but in effect, the DDGs active service in Vietnam was a ‘light bulb event’. Enough ‘senior’ officers and sailors of all branches of the Navy got on the digital horse for the formal processes of acquisition and commensurate change to get the impetus needed. Keep in mind that the DDG-2 Charles F. Adams Class were the first purpose-designed guided missile destroyers in the USN – they needed automation, and Vietnam emphasized that.

Perth completed fit-out of NCDS in Long Beach, California in 1975. I was Fleet Direction Officer at the time and was responsible, together with Lieutenant Fred Sanders, a very fine Weapons Electrical Engineering Officer (WEEO) – DDG experienced – for the Fleet Headquarters (FHQ) end of planning and supervising her Operational Evaluation (OpEval) type assessment on return to Australia. Disappointingly, things didn’t go well; there was much work generated as a result. Brisbane and Hobart were subsequently fitted with NCDS in Australia.

Hindsight tells me that the history of NCDS in the DDGs was one of ups and downs. I think that operationally, it took the RAN a long time to come to grips with digital data systems, but that was equally true of the world at large. Despite recommendations from the fleet and elsewhere, policy was ephemeral and action was a variable. A point to bear in mind too, was that the early NCDS was a version of the USN Junior Participating tactical data systems; not the full NTDS, and ultimately Junior Participating Tactical Data System (JPTDS) became a legacy system in the USN, as indeed did NTDS.

These days the requirements for running a Navy as opposed to operating ships are better appreciated. Rear Admiral Purcell and Vice Admiral Shackleton can shed light on these and other issues.

Sustainability

Another thought that applies to my Vietnam experience is SUSTAINABILITY. Here I’m not thinking of the obvious – I’ll leave that to those who follow this afternoon – but rather, in the context of fatigue management.

Most of us onboard had worked hard we thought, in earlier experiences like, in my case Konfrontasi in Derwent, but the two watch, Defence Watch routine, for up to say 35-40 days, in Vietnam was unlike anything before for me. It was mostly tough, demanding work, with the inevitable periods of boredom. Not surprisingly, when called to Action Stations in these conditions, tired people make misjudgments or mistakes when under stress.

In Hobart, we had a case when under fire off North Vietnam, with both 5” gun mounts in automatic, 40 rounds a minute each, doing counter battery fire, with the ship under full power at over 30 knots and weaving, when a sudden drop in boiler water level wasn’t responded to correctly: a potential disaster. The sailor concerned was relieved, rested, and requalified. A lesson relearnt about fatigue.

Later, as the Captain of ships and then as Fleet Commander, I was of the view that attempting to ‘fight’ people over sustained periods in two watches was inappropriate. Fatigue management became part of the lexicon, and the knowledge. I hope it still is. Nonetheless it’s perhaps worth remembering – maxims again – “Stay Alert, Stay Alive!”

Operation Readiness

There are various definitions of OPERATIONAL READINESS, depending on its usage. I think you will understand my context. I mentioned the USN Fleet Training Group.

After Hobart’s return to Sydney from Vietnam there was a push to set up an Australian version of the FTG to get Hobart ready to go back and relieve Perth in 1968. I was a member of it. We worked the ship up using graduated and graded exercises, culminating in a mini-war, call CHE SERA. All conducted in the East Australia Exercise Areas. There had been a big crew change over, and it wasn’t easy for anyone. The RAN Fleet Training Group (FTG) was too few in number, and lacked sufficient experienced personnel to do the job properly. Subsequent events are another story. Suffice to say that the ship did well in Vietnam, but had some bad luck, as it was hit by friendly fire from the USAF in June 1968: three missiles killed two sailors and a number were wounded.

The RAN FTG had, I believe, a chequered career. My observation of its ups and downs relates to personalities, resourcing, quality and combat experience. Having said that, the FTG certainly had its successes and it made a substantial contribution to Operational Readiness then and subsequently. The good news is that operational readiness has also come a long way. We certainly worked hard on it when I was in Fleet Headquarters.

Like many others, I kept going back to DDGs, ashore as well as afloat. I think my final posting of four to a DDG, as Captain of Brisbane, was the most enjoyable one of my career.

It’s been pointed out elsewhere that the USN-style ops layout and so on in post-modernized DDGs didn’t suit the command and control system the RAN was using; recall too that the PWO system was an RN invention. I can’t really comment much because in Brisbane I was never in a position where the command’s demands exceeded what could be delivered. Brisbane seemed OK in the First Gulf War though?

That war illustrates that the DDGs served on for more than 25 years after Vietnam, into the mid-1990s and beyond. Time doesn’t permit addressing issues such as how did the RAN employ the DDGs in the post-Vietnam years as part of its activities, e.g., RIMPAC, KANGAROO and other major exercises?



Noting Vietnam was all about gunships, how was the ships’ anti-air warfare (AAW) capability used in later years? Noting that these days it is a short-range capability. To sum up then, Jeffrey Grey wrote in his Official History, Up Top: 1955-1972:

“The deployment of RAN destroyers to operate with the US Seventh Fleet in Vietnam provided an excellent test of the ships, their capabilities, and their crews. This was especially the case with the newly acquired DDGs….”

I’m of the view that the RAN’s participation in the Vietnam War – not just the DDGs – injected a focused sense of purposeful professionalism into its people. This built on an enthusiasm for change and development that was already there.

We learned the lessons, we put emphasis on training, we developed our people, we ensured our sustainability, and we embraced the digital future. Those were personal insights into some of my DDG experiences that I know shaped and developed my approach to life in the Navy and its purposes.

They are also, I hope, insights into the operational professionalism and culture that Navy developed because of the DDGS and their Vietnam service.

III Logistics Aspects

By Rear Admiral David Campbell AM RAN (Retired)

It goes without saying that the acquisition of the three Guided Missile Destroyers in the 1960’s ushered into the RAN a whole new level of operational capability and technical sophistication: area air defence, 1200psi steam plants, etc. Less well-recognised was the profound impact that these ships had on the RAN’s supply system for support of these ships, ashore as well as afloat and this system was sorely tested during the ships’ Vietnam deployments.

Supply training for the three commissioning crews was carried out in the USA and was comprehensive. Successive crews, however, learned by ‘osmosis’ and on the job. As time passed, much knowledge was diluted and even forgotten.

I served as Deputy Supply Officer and then Supply Officer in Hobart in 1969-71. None of the original crew was still on board and corporate memory of all that pre-commissioning training had significantly diminished. The naval stores side of my duties was substantially new to me. I had completed the Basic Supply Course in Cerberus in 1967 where the syllabus was essentially pre-DDG. The Officer in Charge (OIC) of the School, Lieutenant Commander Harry Tooth, had been the commissioning Deputy Supply Officer (DSO) of Perth and, while his position was not an instructing one, he did give a few sessions on the differences between the DDGs and ‘the rest’. Most of our stores training was conducted by a Chief who had, literally, never even seen a DDG. His concept of stores duties was that it was all about completing forms; of what happened in the actual filling of demands, or went on behind the scenes, he had absolutely no concept.

You must remember that in those days, the specialisation was Supply & Secretariat, with the emphasis on the Secretariat. The successful career path, historically, was Secretariat. Most Supply Officers busied themselves with Captain’s Office duties and pay and accounts. Stores matters, generally speaking, were carried out by ratings (sailors) and, if at all by officers, then Special Duties specialists. Real interest in supply matters came to officers fairly late in their careers. The advent of the DDG dramatically and definitively changed all that.

In the DDGs, secretarial, pay & accounts, victualling, etc, were as in the rest of the Fleet. Different galley equipment and storeroom layout (especially cool and cold rooms) were easily accommodated but managing naval stores was an entirely new business. Before I get onto that, though, I should mention a couple of aspects of the Captain’s Office and Pay Office. We had electric typewriters that made the DDGs’ correspondence stand out from the rest of the Fleet’s. We had a comptometer, an extremely fast key-driven calculator, which allowed us to calculate foreign exchange to twelve decimal places, although what the good was nobody knew. But at least we could do it.

Living on board was different. There was a proper barber shop, complete with revolving red and white barber pole. This was better than the tiller flat of other ships. There was a proper steam laundry although it wasn’t too many years before it was reduced only to washing stokers’ overalls. When the ships were new, your shirts would come back complete with a neat little paper bow tie, in a plastic sleeve with the message “Your Laundry, Sir!” Accommodation for the sailors was pretty grim. The after seamen’s mess slept 83, for instance. But at least each bunk had its own ash tray, a dubious luxury to be sure, but it was more than other ships had. Nevertheless, sailors liked the DDGs: they were “real ships with real armament.”

The DDG’s pipeline for spare and repair parts led straight back to the US Navy. All the documentation was USN. We had to learn an entirely different system of stores accounting - and acronyms. For instance, there were several shelf-metres of books in the Naval Stores Office: Coordinated Shore-Based Material/Maintenance Allowance List (COSMAL), Master Repairable Item Lists (MRIL), Allowance Parts Lists (APL), Master Cross Reference Lists (MCRL) and Coordinated Shipboard Allowance Lists (COSAL) being the most important. Even stock numbering was different, using nine-digit NATO Stock Numbers (NSN). These manuals were as much engineering publications as supply, and the ships’ utter dependence on them forced the Engineering and Supply staffs much closer together that had hitherto been the case. Elsewhere, the Fleet was still using Royal Navy Rate Books and other arcana. The Engineer’s Spare Gear lockers had no place in a DDG. ABR 4, the RAN Storekeeping Manual, struggled hopelessly to remain relevant.

The on-board inventories were simply enormous: 39,000 line items, valued at $3 million (1970 dollars). There were thirteen store rooms. In contrast, from memory, a Daring class destroyer carried 7,000 items. All of a sudden, the magnitude and complexity of managing this business struck the Supply community and it was sorely equipped to handle the demand. Different ships divided the supply



duties differently, usually reflecting the experience of the individual Supply Officer and his Deputy. The enlightened ones had the pusser himself being concerned with stores (and canteen and Bank) with the Deputy looking after the Division, personnel and victualling. In my case, I was also the Secretary to COMAUSDESRON ONE2, an anachronism if ever there was one.

Modern inventory management hit the RAN with the DDG’s. Its fundamental component, configuration management, came to both engineering and supply in a serious way, and several related USN practices were per force adopted. For example, there was Validation, an exercise in which every single item of equipment on board - every one - was tagged, identified and recorded. Several members from each Department were allocated to this task, which spread over several months, while the ship carried out its normal program. The objective was to know for sure what equipment was on board and what its particular configuration was, so that it could be supported with certainty. The second part of this exercise was to completely de-store the ship in an activity known as SOAP - Supply Operations Assistance Program. Store rooms were then mocked up ashore at Naval Stores Centre (NSC) Zetland and bins and racks filled with parts to support the identified equipments, and only those equipments. All too often, experience had revealed equipments with no support and support with no equipment. Support in this sense also included technical documentation. The ship was then reloaded, faithfully replicating the mock-ups ashore. Then the entire cycle was repeated.

Integrated Logistics Support (ILS) then followed into the RAN, as an intrinsic part of acquisition management. A significant problem was that the administrative computer support to sustain all this activity was simply not available. There was neither the capacity nor the expertise. EDP had been introduced in the 1960’s, about the same time as the DDGs themselves, but priority was given to personnel systems with supply systems lagging far behind. It took years to catch up, even longer than the training system.

Understanding the USN supply system meant exposure to a whole new world. Authorities such as NAVSUP, NAVMAT and NAVSEA became important, as did places like the Ships Parts Control Center (SPCC) Mechanicsburg, Aviation Supply Office (ASO) Philadelphia, and the Fleet Materiel Support Office (FMSO) in Washington, DC.

Whatever the initial arrangements for life cycle supply support were set in place in the DDG acquisition project, they were soon proven to be manifestly inadequate. Generations of public servants in the bureaucracy of the Superintending Naval Stores Officer found themselves estranged in the brave new world and completely out of their depth. Their re-training lagged far behind that of their uniformed counterparts, and that was laggard enough. Relationships between ships and the supply bureaucracy were never particularly close and now became even more distant. Simply put, the system couldn’t keep up with the ships’ demands, and the Fleet’s growing sophistication in modern supply management left the shore tail far behind. Attempts were made to introduce other modern

2 Commander Australian Destroyer Squadron One.

inventory management practices in the Fleet, such as Selected Item Management (SIM) based on Pareto’s principles, but the supply system ashore was incapable of crunching the data to make this a viable activity.

In my view, the only thing that helped tide over those initial very difficult years was the Fleet’s involvement in Vietnam, with ships being deployed as integral units of the US Seventh Fleet, and therefore in direct contact with the USN supply system. Unfortunately, all this also compounded some of the problems. First was the high operational tempo which exacted tough demands on the ships and their support. An example was the transfer trays of the 5”/54 gun mounts, which often failed and demanded constant re-welding by the ordnance teams. It was pointless expecting these to be supported from Australia and so the “system” was by-passed and local arrangements made in Subic Bay or Yokosuka for repair or replacement. Second, ships enjoyed direct access to that veritable Aladdin’s Cave, the SERVMART at the Naval Supply Depot (NSD) Subic Bay. Ships returned from Vietnam, virtually gunnels under, with stuff of which the system in Australia had no knowledge. Historical usage data and their management thus became futile, even if the computer systems had been able to cope, because the data simply wasn’t properly recorded.

Parallel problems and opportunities were taking place ashore, both in Navy Office and in Garden Island Dockyard. Significant infrastructure, such as the GMLS Mk 13 overhaul facility, was put in place at GID, together with the supporting engineering training. I will observe, however, that 30 years later, as the Naval Support Commander and having to pay for the last DDG refit (Hobart’s) in 1996, we were contending with problems that had only worsened over the years. Tight configuration management had been lost, disgracefully, and many of the Original Equipment Manufacturers (OEMs) had long ago disappeared. Obtaining spare and repair parts was harder and more expensive than when the ships were new. By the way, that final refit cost $40 million; she cost that new (albeit in 1965 dollars).

As I said, we were almost entirely dependent on the USN for the provision of the ‘bullets, beans and black oil’ of logistics. The expertise of the US Seventh Fleet in afloat logistics had been developed during the Pacific War and it had to be experienced to be believed. A constant stream of supply ships traversed the South China Sea between Yokosuka in Japan and Subic Bay in the Philippines. They would load at one end and gradually discharge their cargoes in a series of underway replenishment operations off the Vietnamese coast. Then they would reload at the other end and repeat the process, month after month and year after year. It was a simple enough concept but was staggering in its execution. On any day, there was an unbroken line of ships carrying fuel, ammunition, food, and spare and repair parts. I can only marvel. This enormous business was managed by the Commander Service Group 73.5.

Our participation in this program was covered in detail in the 1966/67 agreement between the two navies covering operational matters, administration, logistics, communications and finances. From the logistics aspect, this was a pretty seamless affair: a newly-built DDG, such as we were, slipped easily into the USN support system.



Underway replenishments, every other day or so, took between one and three hours, with fuel and ammunition often being taken on concurrently. They were all-hands evolutions. Special equipment had to be rigged: magazine whips, davits, shot mats, ammunition corrals. Ammunition came in pallets of 64 rounds, over two tonnes each. (The handiest pallets held 39 powder cases and 48 shell but they were in short supply.) We conducted 67 underway replenishments (UNREPs), five vertical replenishments (VERTREPs) for urgently needed items and 23 small boat transfers. We carried out the very first underway replenishment anywhere of a Tartar missile; that was interesting. We got to know the underway replenishment ships very well: Virgo, Arcturus, White Plains, Niagara Falls and the rest. I particularly loved the Combat Stores Ships of the Mars Class. If M frames, automatic tensioning devices and refrigerated holds were your thing, these were the ships for you. Beautiful. More than that: to those of us whose UNREP experience had been limited to the occasional transaction with the Royal Fleet Auxiliaries of the UK’s Far East Fleet, it was nothing short of wondrous.

Incidentally, two of the fast combat support ships (AOE) - Sacramento (AOE-1) and Camden (AOE-2) each had half of the steam plant of the Iowa-class battleship Kentucky, which was broken up on the slips in 1947. These AOEs were true floating supermarkets, functions of three logistic support ships in one hull - fleet oiler (AO), ammunition ship (AE), and refrigerated stores ship (AF). I later wrote a paper passionately advocating the acquisition of such ships for the RAN; nothing came of it. HMAS Success didn’t make the cut.

Also transferred were movies. Carriers could push aircraft over the side and write them off with the stroke of a pen, but the paperwork involved in losing a movie was truly monumental. We somehow lost The Perils of Pauline, a new movie of florid villainy and dauntless heroics, and the experience haunts me to this day.

Some support came direct from home by air. This was for uniquely Australian equipment such as Ikara and 975 radar. Of course, HMAS Vendetta, whom we relieved, was far more dependent on this type of support; we had it easy in comparison. Most important were 151 bags of mail. The staff at the Central Mail Exchange in Sydney used to add a few daily newspapers that were also very welcome.

In my deployment, Hobart fired 16,901 rounds of 5-inch ammunition. Our magazines carried 1350 rounds, which was 150 more than our authorised outfit but was justified on grounds of operational requirements and the reality of the replenishment program. There had been five DDG deployments before mine and we were the beneficiaries of their accumulated experience.

In Vietnam, food became of high importance, second only to mail. We had sailed from Sydney with the standard 90 days of dry provisions, 30 of frozen and seven of fresh, but thought of re-provisioning is never far from a pusser’s mind. We topped up from the US Navy Supply Depot in Subic Bay and whenever and wherever we later came into port, but most of our re-supply was done at sea. To give you an idea of the scale of victualling, we took on 55 tonnes of potatoes and 25 tonnes of meat during that deployment.

We had a supplementary victualling allowance to provide for ‘midrats’, a meal in the middle of the night. It seemed to me that 100% of the ship’s company was wide awake and starving at that time. Managing the victualling accounts on $1.08 per person per day took some cunning enterprise that only pussers are privy to, but we got there. Fruit and vegetables from the Americans were of very high quality. Their flour, being from a harder grain of wheat, was superior to Australian stuff and Leading Cook Buckingham baked beautiful bread. But their meat was truly awful. It came in frozen boxes known as ‘six-way beef’, which meant there were five parts of minced meat to one part of something else. There are only so many things to do with that and the troops soon complained of hamburgers and savoury mince. What they really wanted, they said, were sausages, real sausages, not that American rubbish that didn’t even look like proper sausages, and anyway they tasted sweet. Next time in Subic Bay, Petty Officer Cook Watson and I went down to Manila to find a meat processor who would make Australian-style snags. After much experimentation, we agreed on the right recipe and I ordered a ton or so to be collected when we next came into port.

The big day eventually came and there was much rejoicing. Then came a giant sausage sizzle followed by a great lamentation. The Manila butcher had added American-sized quantities of sugar and spice to our prized recipe and ruined the lot. It all went over the side; ‘surveyed’ was the correct pussers term. Lots of correspondence with the Director of Naval Victualling Stores ensued. The episode reminded me of another experiment we had conducted before deployment – powdered beer.

As you know, when operations permitted, commanding officers were able to authorise a beer issue (actually a beer sale) of one large (26 oz) or two small cans per man. Carrying the stock was a not inconsiderable problem in space and weight, and some genius had come up with the idea of powdered beer. Just add water. Hobart was selected for the trial. Before a crowd of curious and excited onlookers in the cafeteria, the brew was mixed in large milk churns and taken down to the cold rooms to chill. We had 300 volunteer tasters that first night, none the next.

Fuel consumption was between 70 and 100 tonnes a day. Loitering on the gun line didn’t consume much but high speed dashes were sometimes required to meet a mission and best speed was always required for transits to and from UNREPs. All up, we burned about 11,000 tonnes and steamed over 40,000 miles.

The resources of Subic Bay were invaluable apart from the dubious delights of Olongopo and the really relaxing times at the Officers’ Club and Chuck Wagon in Subic Bay itself and also at the naval air station on Cubi Point. We had special crypto equipment on loan from the USN that wasn’t part of our normal RAN outfit and not covered by the support umbrella. In desperate need of parts one day, I was able to trade some of Captain Swan’s single malt and get the job done. Fosters beer was another useful commodity to trade with the natives. But what we chiefly coveted was access to the SERVMART, a sort of naval supermarket of commonly demanded stuff. We’d buy it by the trolley load. Also in Subic Bay was the wonderful



Mobile Technical Unit (MOTU) a dedicated team of service and civilian specialist staff who assisted in all manner of repair tasks, including gun barrel replacements.

By the way, we had pre-positioned stuff in Subic Bay: gun barrels and tail shafts, for example, and drums of ship-side grey paint (green, actually, which is why nobody pinched it).

I had dealings with the Disbursing Officer in Subic Bay to replenish my stocks of US dollars. I terrified him because he had no idea what a Bill of Exchange was but oriental pride prevented him from admitting it. For reasons I never understood (and still don’t), all our transactions on board were in US currency – pay, banking, canteen and cash account. It was a major evolution both before and after deployment to convert the ship and was a real pain.

Some years later, I was on the staff of the Australian Naval Attaché, Washington. One of my functions was the reconciliation and certification of USN Billings, which were charges for goods and services purchased by our ships from American sources. Most of these charges related to the logistics support that our ships incurred in Vietnam. Some bills came through years after the fact and reconciliation was often nigh on impossible. With the exception of my own time in Hobart (of course), most of our record-keeping was atrocious. Fortunately, I had a very good rapport with my American opposite number in Naval Accounts, ‘Dusty’ Rhoades, and together we must have saved the Australian tax-payer a fortune.

One of the most complex set of billings had to do with the construction of our third DDG, Brisbane. They had all been built by the Defoe Shipbuilding Company in Bay City, Michigan, under a US Navy contract, which meant that in fact we bought the ships from the USN under the new Foreign Military Sales (FMS) arrangement, not from the shipbuilder. The audit trail was interesting, to say the very least, and there were all sorts of other complications. For instance, Brisbane’s gun mounts were second-hand, having been taken from the carrier Forrestal and I was eventually able to get a discount for those. The major problem was that although Defoe could build beautiful ships, their business management skills were a bit slack. Defoe was most obliging and accommodated all sorts of configuration changes asked for by the RAN stand-by crews. The trouble was that few of these changes had been documented by Defoe and our own records were atrocious. The result was that Defoe was out of pocket by several millions. I have no doubt that the RAN ships contributed in no small measure to the company’s going broke.

I should say something about personnel. It was an interesting time in the Navy’s history. The traumas of Voyager and Frank E. Evans accidents were still of fresh memory. We had only recently experienced the emotional and financial upheavals of group pay. We were coming to terms with the Defence Force Retirement Benefits scheme. We served under the unforgiving Naval Discipline Act, 1957. People could still get discharged for moral turpitude, and were. Women were in separate services: of the navy but not really in it. Freedom of Information, Equal Opportunity and other administrative law horrors had not yet been invented. The Scott Report had vindicated the naval divisional system.

There was a good deal of recent operational experience, mainly from the Far East Strategic Reserve in Malaysian waters during Confrontation. Within the fleet, there was a DDG group – definitely the First Eleven – and the rest. There was the excitement of a virtually unprecedented expansion of naval capability: new ships, aircraft and submarines and, above all, the challenge of Vietnam in our splendid new ships. Despite all this, I feel it is little exaggeration to say that the RAN of that period was closer to Nelson’s day, traditions and practices than to the RAN of 2017, half a century later. Well, if not Georgian, then certainly Edwardian.

So it was a complex and dynamic personnel environment that the people serving in Hobart found themselves in. Morale was pretty good, as I recall, despite - or perhaps because of - the pressures of intense operational service. And of course there were the other usual contributors: ship’s program, food, mail, leave, movies, inter-mess competitions, etc. Defaulters at the captain’s table were relatively few although I recall some spectacular exceptions. As the ship’s de facto legal officer I had some fantastic cases, including having to defend a civil charge (successfully, I’m pleased to report) of ‘desecration of Filipino maidenhood’. Venereal disease, while not rife, was a terrible reality. It was a different welfare environment, too, compared with today. Nobody was repatriated although there were some very tragic cases on the home front. We were blessed by an excellent Naval Social Workers organisation which rendered sterling support.

A lot of effort was put into sharing the workload as evenly as possible. The WEEO took over upper deck maintenance around Tartar check-out. I took over the cafeteria. In Defence Watches, I was AA Control Officer, largely a time-wasting exercise; meanwhile some of my cooks and stewards were in the magazines. I declined to be Officer of the Day (OOD) in harbour because that was always hectic for me in storing ship, etc. I compensated by occasional bridge watchkeeping in the dogs. We were all very busy all the time.

Much is made of the hostile reception that Vietnam veterans received upon their return, being shunned and condemned, spat upon and reviled. I know that behaviour went on, and was even wide-spread, but that was not my own experience or that of anyone that I personally knew. (I saw just a little of it when I joined my local Clovelly Branch of the Returned Services League and was treated like a leper.) To be sure, the tugs wouldn’t touch us and the wharfies wouldn’t handle our lines in Port Adelaide on our return, but that sort of industrial action on one pretext or another was hardly anything out of the ordinary. Both press and public made critical and caustic comment, but ill-informed bigotry was nothing new either. I think it was sadly very different for those National Servicemen who were discharged and had to make their way in a now-alien society, and to have been maimed in body or spirit must have compounded everything. We’d never heard of PTSD at the time although, years later, I was often asked to lend my support for wild and fictitious claims for compensation for imagined physical and mental traumas. “O tempora, o mores” as we Latin scholars say.

Matters gradually stabilised after Vietnam. Much had been observed and learned. Personnel exchange programs for both uniformed and civilian people were established



with USN establishments. I myself attended the US Navy Supply Corps School at Athens, Georgia, and later undertook specialist ILS training at the Virginia Institute of Technology. Further Cooperative Logistics Support Arrangements were put in place and have been constantly expanded and refined ever since. I was the Naval Attaché in Washington during the First Gulf War when these arrangements were very seriously tested and they worked most successfully. These vital arrangements, which are so essential to sustaining our operational capability, continue to this day and, in my view, can be traced directly to the acquisition of the DDG’s in the 1960’s and the subsequent deployments in Vietnam with the US Seventh Fleet.

Nevertheless, I recall an incident in July 1970 which, in two respects, reflects the DDG experience there. The ship raced some 270 miles overnight to northern II Corps to support a massive helicopter assault by the US 4th Infantry Division. We had generally been lucky with the mounts but July brought a series of equipment failures which led to frustrating delays in answering calls for fire. There you have it: the ship’s otherwise exemplary operational performance was hampered by problems with logistics in both maintenance and supply support.

So the lessons were clearly there but it took decades, literally decades, for them to be properly applied at home. There were, for example in 1997, no fewer than 23 different and separate logistic support programs in the RAN. Those for Collins bore no relationship to those for Anzac or for the Seahawk or the FFG’s or any other platform or weapons system. It wasn’t until the advent of software LCC-1 and LCC-2 that we could even compile a decent allowance list for new equipment. And always there was the financial restriction of Division 181 in the Defence budget, which was for naval ship repair and refit; never, ever enough money. We never built an equivalent solid relationship between Naval Support Command and the Materiel Division that we saw between NAVSUP, NAVMAT and NAVSEA.

I mentioned our enthusiasm for Subic’s SERVMART and MOTU. Years later, we made half-hearted efforts to have our own SERVMART on Garden Island in Sydney but never managed to overcome the bureaucratic obstacles. The time and expense consequently wasted in running out to Zetland, and later to Moorebank, for bits and pieces were inexcusable. We did eventually establish MOTUs but they were not successful as we could never adequately man them, at least not in my time.

A final thought. Hobart was commanded by a very experienced four-ring captain, Ross Swan. The specialists were all ‘long course’ qualified. We were good - and so we should have been - but we were disconsolate to be told that we weren’t the best DDG on station at that time; that distinction went to USS Goldsborough (DDG-20) with a far more junior wardroom. To me, then and now, that spoke volumes about the quality and, particularly, the relevance of our training. Though I say it myself, our two supply officers were the least well prepared: we had grown up under a regime that was no longer to exist in the latter decades of the 20th century. I had already served nine years, seven under training, and knew it all – or at least I thought I did. My American counterparts were, for

the most part, Reserve Officers’ Training Corps (ROTC) officers a couple of months out of Supply School.

Hobart in Vietnam was a very important part of my life, personally and professionally. I had a further six logistics-related appointments culminating in Head Strategic Logistics in Defence HQ and in all of which I drew on my DDG experience.

For this presentation, my brief was ‘logistics’ but the DDG’s experience and impact for me were broader than that. In subsequent postings of Staff Officer ILS in the Naval Materiel Division, as the Director of Naval Supply Research and, particularly, as Naval Support Commander, I had frequent occasion to reflect on this wider business. The DDGs brought us into touch with the modern world in so many other ways embracing the structure of logistic support, project management, ship and aircraft acquisition tendering and contract management, and the relationship (so essential to operational effectiveness) between line and staff. In respect of our Edwardian Navy their advent was its death knell. Of course, we would have caught up with the world eventually, but fortunately the DDGs laid the ground work to accept such change which would otherwise have been a serious indigestion in our well-mannered existence.

The acquisition of the DDGs came at a time in the USN when it transited from Grant Aid to FMS and with the introduction of Cooperative Logistic Support Arrangements for foreign buyers – of whom we were but one. We were caught on the hop and were not alone.

I’m still sent the Navy Supply Newsletter, a six-monthly professional journal that I instigated in 1995. (Actually, they now call it “Provide & Deliver”.) It canvasses the issues in naval logistics today. I am honestly and truly in awe and admiration of the achievements and successes of the current generation of officers and sailors and yet I see a direct line between the DDG experience and in what they now call the Maritime Logistics Community. These men and women would have run circles around us in Vietnam. And that is how it should be.

IV Technical Aspects

By Rear Admiral Peter Purcell AO RAN (Retired)

The DDG Capability RequirementWhile the RAN has benefited enormously from the decision to buy US rather than British in the 1960s the fundamental capability supporting the decision to procure the DDGs was the capability of the Tartar missile system to provide anti air defence. To me the success of the DDGs in shaping the RAN needs to be assessed against the impact of this initial capability procurement on the evolution of the RANs current anti air warfare capability. This is probably the greatest impact of the DDGs on the RAN.

Procurement of the DDGs, with the first two ships delivered in 1965, introduced the RAN to the USN Materiel domain



in all its dimensions. In a materiel sense our response was to adopt the full spectrum of change that came with these platforms and their unique systems. We managed them as an extension of the US Fleet with the USN very much parent navy to our ships. The USN provided the foreground and background to our technical and logistic management of the ships, building and outfitting them for us, giving us access to their systems and expertise, including their supply and management systems and plugging us into the Class growth path. The Vietnam experience added a lived experience and an urgency to our understanding and ability to operate within a USN derived operational and sustainment environment. Our ability to manage the life cycle of the current and future fleets reflects much that we have learned from the DDG experience and provides useful measures of how experience with this Class has shaped the RAN.

I intend to consider the DDGs and their contribution to our appreciation of the warfighting contribution of technology to the development of the RAN over the whole of life of the ships. I will start with my observations from Vietnam.

The Vietnam Experience

My starting point is that my ship Hobart was hit by friendly fire with two killed and seven injured. This raised a lot of questions both then and in hindsight and for many of these I don’t have answers but table them for your consideration. In doing this I ask you to bear in mind that my perspective was that of a Weapons Electrical Lieutenant in his first professional posting. I raise the incident because it addresses real world war-fighting issues particularly the relationship between technology and doctrine and provides a point of comparison against today’s approaches.

The context of this incident, as I understood it, started with intelligence that the Vietcong were resupplying the garrison on Tiger Island 13 miles east of Cap Lay, a Vietcong radar installation. The resupply activities were happening at night. As well rumour had it the the Vietcong were operation helicopters from the island. Elements of the US 7th Fleet including Hobart and USAF aircraft operating from Thailand were tasked to counter this.

On 16 June 1968 a US patrol boat was sunk with loss of lives. On 17 June the cruiser USS Boston and the destroyers USS Edsen and HMAS Hobart were attacked. We were the only one to suffer loss of lives. All ships were mistakenly attacked by 7th Air Force jet fighters. Hobart detected the aircraft approaching, identified it as friendly but without Identication Friend or Foe (IFF) showing before the aircraft attacked with the first of three Sea Sparrow missiles all of which hit the ship.

Some questions:

a) Could Hobart have tracked the aircraft and frightened it off with fire control radar – technically, yes, but under the rules of engagement in place, no, because of the requirement not to engage unless the aircraft performed a hostile act. Bringing a fire control radar to bear would have caused the aircraft to go into

auto evasion manoeuvres. I make the observation that rules were in place to protect aircraft from even benign engagement and this was appropriate given the Vietnam air environment. Were rules in place to protect naval assets from friendly fire?

b) Had Hobart sought HQ Command approval to engage, how long would that that taken? I understood at the time that would have taken several minutes to achieve.

c) Why didn’t Hobart engage after the first hit given there was a the three-and-a-half-minute interval between the first missile and the second two? The answer is that the fire control systems were no longer operational. After the final hit Hobart opened fire from Mount 51 in local control.

d) Why couldn’t the aircraft differentiate between a cruiser (13,000 tons) and a helicopter or small supply vessel? The Sea Sparrow system display technology (an A-Scan display?) didn’t have the capability.

e) Why did Hobart suffer significantly more damage that the two US ships? Hobart had a ship’s boat missing from the starboard side creating a very large corner reflector which became the aim point for all three missiles.

f) Why was Edson attacked 15 minutes after Hobart was hit? The common operations picture between Navy elements was being maintained by Hobart as the task unit commander and the capability was lost due to battle damage. A common operations picture between Navy and Air Force may not have existed.

g) When did we confirm we had been attacked by a friendly aircraft? The next morning when fragments of the missile were examined.

h) Was ESM a feature of Hobart’s capability? The Sea Sparrow Fire Control system lock on to the ship was not registered as an event to trigger a ship fire control response.

i) Why was the intelligence response time to the changing situation so poor? I do not have an answer. I wonder if the patrol boat sinking on the preceding day may have been assessed as a measure of increased threat rather than a case for improved coordination of friendly fire.

j) Was the incident investigated? Yes, by the US and I am not aware of the outcome, and no by the RAN to my knowledge.

k) What is the point of an anti-air missile system whose reaction time is much faster than the command and control decision time? In reality the positive psychology of having the system outweighed the limitations to its use. As well this was an asymmetric war to which the allies were applying a full-frontal approach in anticipation of a similar response.

The question is: did we learn from this? With no investigation or follow up analysis (to my knowledge) the RAN’s learning from this incident was not specific but rather an evolution over time and in conjunction with other ship



experiences from that time. In the immediate term the RAN’s consciousness was raised to new dimensions of collateral damage, the need for command responsiveness to match the scenario, the need for improved inter-service interoperability and better ship signature management. The incident provided the RAN with a clear demonstration that the capability edge is more complex and complete than its underpinning technologies.

In the longer term the Vietnam experience has become part of our aggregate experience. In parallel with USN capability and technology developments, the Vietnam experience can be seen in the RAN’s leading edge technology in the areas of C4I3, tactical and strategic picture compilation, real time communications and data transfer, inter-service interoperability, ship signature management and the move to autonomous automated weapons systems from Nulka and Phalanx close-in weapons system (CIWS) to Aegis combat management system (but we need to be clever enough to develop the protocols to allow their use). It can also be seen in improved doctrine which is beyond the scope of this brief except to note that command and control in a denied and disconnected environment remains a major challenge today.

Vietnam also provided an object lesson in how to manage ship classes. After it was hit, Hobart returned to Subic Bay for repairs and the most complicated of these was to restore one channel of the Tartar missile fire control system to service. We were exposed to the effectiveness of the USN Type Desk within its Materiel Command. In a month, the Type Desk had gathered the assets to replace one of the fire control systems, the engineering expertise to manage and oversight this and authorised the yard resources to implement it - the job was all done in the month. The lesson for us from this is that if we want to be a parent navy to ship classes, this is the sort of responsiveness in sustainment we need to aspire to.

The DDGs in their Vietnam configuration were a step forward from much of the technology in the rest of the Australian fleet. This provided the opportunity for a generation of officers and sailors to gain experience in both the operations and sustainment of technologies that would be important in later configurations of this Class and in other new builds. Some of the key areas in which we were introduced to the future were self-contained minimum manned missile systems (compared to the British equivalents of the day), precision fire control radars, semi-active missile guidance and phased array radars. These now form the technology base of the RAN’s anti-air warfare systems.

Post-Vietnam

Post-Vietnam, the DDGs continued to provide the RAN with a technology lead particularly in the 1970s with the introduction of the digital Tartar systems and digital Tactical Data Systems. Again, these systems have impacted not only technology but also doctrine.

The Vietnam experience gave us a base from which to pursue some elements of future capability. Threat

3 C4I is Command, Control, Communications, Computers and Intelligence.

and technology changes have given rise to other technology drivers. If we step forward 15 years from Vietnam to the mid-1980s we see the RAN seeking technology advancements in the areas of:

• multi target detection and tracking

• precision engagement at long range

• adaptive sensors

• realisation of human and materiel potential through simulation

• reliable and secure C3I systems

• improved communications connectivity and bandwidth

• low observable materials and design

• higher availability of fleet units

• realise the full potential of technology

Stepping forward another 20 years to the mid-2000s the RAN technology challenges were:

• advanced information systems

• unmanned vehicles

• anti-ballistic missile defence

• modernisation of existing capabilities.

Many of the solutions have been and will be found through the RAN’s confidence in doing business with the US and in adopting USN equipment. I see this as part of the ongoing professionalism and culture shift of the RAN derived from the DDG heritage.

I suggested earlier that Navy’s current anti-air warfare systems are a measure of the extent Navy’s professionalism and culture, and have been influenced by the DDG procurement and our subsequent relationship with the USN. I also suggested that our management of the life cycle of Navy’s ships was another measure of professional and cultural shift. In my view the shift in Navy’s approach from a Euro-centric to a USA-centric one can be seen in a large number of areas including:

• continuous evolution of requirements

• continuous evolution of solutions – our two key anti-air missiles, Standard and Evolved Sea Sparrow along with AEGIS are good examples of this

• our confidence to partner with the USN in technology and doctrine development – Nulka is a good example here

• our willingness to share risk to reduce total risk

• a systems and holistic approach to new technologies – the amalgamation of command and control and fire control in Aegis is an example

• a reduction in the discontinuity between technology change and procurement time scales – although we still tend to procure when technologies are proven and at the tail end of production runs.

In summary, the Navy has changed significantly over the 52 years since acquisition of the DDGs. I see the American influence as clearly visible in the technology we have and are delivering to today’s Navy. In my view the US influence has been extremely positive both in providing and sustaining capability of US origin. We



have also benefited in both acquisition and sustainment from the economies of scale from large class sizes. Where US technologies and capabilities have not been available, the Anzac and Collins classes for example, the US benefits have been less and we are beginning to understand the real cost of the parent navy role.

V Reflections of a Junior Officer

By Captain David Cotsell RAN (Retired)

IntroductionI was asked to draw on my experiences as a junior officer on Vietnam operations, and how they affected my personal thinking and evolution as a naval officer. The words culture and professionalism were used. What were a young man’s beliefs and needs and a young man’s illusions? I ruminated over the question of evolving professionalism and culture for weeks before resolving last weekend

under the shower that the answer lay in two photos.

After

The two photographs could not be more contrasting. This presentation is about what happened between those two events. That leads us into the realm of reminiscences. Memory is a slippery entity. It tends to take a more cavalier view of the past than an accurate one. Sometimes, you have to rely on external evidence to reconstruct the true sequence. Even this is contestable because every document is written by someone and that someone also draws on reminiscences and recall. What follows therefore is a personal memoire. There are people in this room who were present at some of the things I shall describe and their memories will be different. I ask them to accommodate my intellectual arrears in this regard, and any diversity of view.

The question also brings into conflict one’s observations of operational procedures and one’s observations of the ship itself. They were not the same thing. Procedures are just that, processes, practices and traditions underpinned by doctrine, training and rules. Ships, however, are little worlds isolated from the outside, with their own politics and personal dynamics and with a collective personality that is quite volatile in the face of the unexpected.

The souls who comprise ships’ companies are generally young. First and foremost, the young should always concern themselves simply with living, with experiencing. The world lives open to the young people of the day. My experiences in Hobart in 1968 were definitely formative in that regard.

Credentials

Two colleagues and I joined Hobart 25 days before she departed for her second Vietnam deployment. I was a naïve short service commission officer with two years elementary training behind me and somewhat romantic notions of what naval service entailed. Of that two years only 23 weeks had actually been at sea, although it did involve escorting HMAS Sydney in HMAS Stuart on one trooping cruise in May 1967.

Before

After



Joining when we did, we had missed most of Hobart’s Vietnam workup but we were aboard for its final pre-deployment battle problem called Operation QUE SERA, which I thought curiously fatalistic for a ship about to deploy for real world operations in a war zone. I was promoted to Acting Sub Lieutenant two weeks before Hobart cast off.

Nothing in the DDG resembled anything I had hitherto come across and I felt well underdone in the way of training. The ship was unnervingly foreign and seemed to my impressionable eye strikingly modern, although I subsequently learnt such was not always the case (crystal tuned UHF radios come to mind). Nor were superiors inclined to accommodate my protestations of ignorance. History does not record the punishing words that passed from their lips on my journey of personal self-discovery. There was a sense of urgency abroad, of direction and focus. I quickly understood that I’d better get with it for there was no place to hide and no passengers could be abetted.

My duties on joining were Assistant Gunnery Division Officer, Assistant Foc’sle Officer, Assistant Navigation Officer, Shore Patrol Officer, Recreation Officer, Laundry Officer AA, Control Officer in the third degree of readiness (initially) and then Bombardment Control Officer. There was a colloquial name for this miscellany which dignity requires I refrain from using but the old hands among you know what I mean.

Of these duties by far the most relentless, soul destroying and tricky was that of Laundry Officer. This required reserves of resilience that I sadly lacked. The laundry was equipped with industrial washers and dryers of impressive dimensions, steam presses to cope with every shape of garment and even a little machine that wrapped plastic bags around freshly laundered shirts, upon which the laundrymen could place little black paper bows ties. It seems that the USN had trained laundry sailors. In Hobart we had recalcitrant stokers and a few men under punishment.

Other than the Engineer Officer and the Captain no officer’s laundry ever seemed to be returned clean or perhaps even returned at all and I was daily assailed with complaints from my brother officers. The results of my laundry endeavours were apparent to me at every meal as I eyed the standard of dress of my fellow officers around the dinner table. Those of you who remember Ensign Pulver (Jack Lemon) in the film Mr Roberts being encouraged by the Captain, James Cagney, not to put too much starch in his shirts will get the gist.

To come to the point of this story, however, I learned a serious lesson in that even when pre-occupied in a combat zone small domestic things really matter, more so than in peacetime because they introduce normality into what was abnormal and familiarity to the unfamiliar. In later years, I paid the closest attention, when my duties required, to the mail, the distribution of the broadcast news, the quality of the dog eared paperbacks in the ship’s library, and the acquisition (by theft if necessary) of the best movies available in the fleet. And, until the end of my sea days, when I was duty officer in harbour, I followed the old and by then lapsing practice of attending the galley when the evening meal was being served, much to the bemusement of the chefs.

On Arrival at Subic Bay

Hobart berthed at Alava Pier in Subic Bay on 31st March. The sheer scale of the place overwhelmed me. Where did the RAN fit into all this, I asked myself? Matters of interoperability loomed whatever one tried to do, even the USN supplied charts were different. Interoperability, I suddenly understood, was the bottom line for everything we did. This was an enduring theme in my later career as a Communications Officer. Subic Bay was the first place I confronted it.

Hobart’s second deployment from March to October 1968 might be seen in two parts. The first was spent operating off the Demilitarised Zone (DMZ) and the North Vietnamese coast conducting Operation Sea Dragon. The second period was spent south of the Demilitarised Zone on Operation Market Time. These two periods were separated by an incident on 17th June and the ensuing six weeks under repair and out of the Area of Operations (AO) to which I shall return later.

Operation SEA DRAGON

Operation SEA DRAGON had the objective of cutting sea lines of communications from North Vietnam into the south, and to destroy land targets with naval gunfire. The shore bombardment targetted truck parking areas, choke points, stores dumps, fuel dumps and logistically important roads and bridges north of the DMZ.

During these bombardment operations, Hobart formed a Task Unit normally with one other destroyer, typically a US FRAM II armed with six 5”/38 guns. On one occasion, we teamed up with an ageing Fletcher Class destroyer, shown here, photographed from Hobart’s quarterdeck.

The coast would be closed at high speed and at Action Stations, which for me at that time was on the bridge as Assistant Navigator. The ships would turn onto the firing course, still at high speed, with Hobart about 16,000 yards from the coast and the consort further inshore to provide counter battery fire as well as firing on the main target. The fall of shot might be observed by Special Forces ashore, airborne spotting, a drone launched by the consort or in the case of counter battery visually from the ship. But many of these bombardments were unobserved.



I confess to being a little sceptical about the effectiveness of this shore bombardment especially when the fall of shot was unobserved and partly because of what I had been taught about the settling time of maritime gyroscopes and the range from the target which was 16,000 yards plus at best.

The enemy sometimes shot back, which was not unreasonable from their point of view. The Task Unit would turn away and make smoke, returning fire while doing so. On one occasion the XO proudly displayed some shrapnel that came inboard, which represented a sort of initiation I suppose. On another occasion the consort was observed to be straddled, USS Collette, as I recall.

The most terrifying event for me during SEA DRAGON, however, was the 36 hours Hobart was detached as Rescue Destroyer (RESDES) to the 40,000 ton aircraft carrier USS Bon Homme Richard operating in the Gulf of Tonkin. I felt much more comfortable under the guns of the North Vietnamese shore batteries than I did under the port quarter of the Bonnie Dick.

Replenishment

A compelling lesson from the deployment for me, ignorant as I was, was the total reliance on the afloat logistic chain for everything we did. Without it, the ship could last three or so days at best before returning to harbour. The replenishment at sea training we had received at HMAS Cerberus had been, shall we say, indicative, with a hose slung between two sets of sheer legs and a block and tackle hanging from a gum tree.

I had seen underway replenishment at close hand when Stuart had refuelled from Sydney on its short deployment to Vung Tau. Being a diligent Midshipman I had drawn suitable diagrams in my Journal. But I’d never actually had to do anything other than watch. The doing was always handled by seasoned senior sailors. And, in any case, the DDG layout looked nothing like that block and tackle hanging from the tree and quite alien to the drawing in my Journal.

Thus I was startled to be told by the XO soon after first arriving on the gun line to proceed to the midships replenishment station and take charge. I was given a multi-coloured batten similar to a ping pong bat with which to discharge my duties. I looked at the sea and at USS Sacramento looming up ahead and desperately sought a seasoned senior sailor to tell me what to do.

Fortunately a senior sailor was there in the shape of the Chief Petty Officer Quartermaster Gunner (CPOQMG) whose campaign ribbons suggested sea service in both World War II and Korea. He quietly told me when to turn the green side of the bat towards the Sacramento and when the red. “Now,” he said, “wave it in a circular motion like your washing a window and they will check away on that there rope and wave it side to side if you think its gonna’ to fall into the water. I’ll do the rest.” he said. And this I did while behind me I could hear his voice:

“run away with the inhaul”,

“walk back together”,

“steady lads, take the weight”,

“heave away roundly” and so on.

HMAS Hobart replenishing from USS Sacramento, showing the midships replenishment station. NOte helo supply aft. Sub Lieutenant Cotsell with hands in pockets on the left.

HMAS Hobart midships replenishment station on approach.



I performed my role several times a week after that and thus became quite expert in heavy jackstay transfers. I have revered that gentleman ever since. I also developed deep admiration for the physical strength and stamina of the sailors during these evolutions.

17th June 1968

For much of the deployment I was the Bombardment Control Officer (BCO), a sort of glorified communications number, when in the Third Degree of Readiness. This was most of the time when operating south of the DMZ or outside gun range of the coast when north of it. I was watch and watch about as a member of the small bombardment management team.

In the middle watch on the 17th June Hobart was attacked by an F4 Phantom aircraft of the US 7th Air Force. Two sailors were killed and 13 injured. In summary, Hobart was Commander of a three ship Task Unit conducting a patrol between Cap Lay on the DMZ an offshore island that was suspected of being a North Vietnamese observation post and which rumour suggested was being replenished by helicopter and/or water craft. The F4 Phantom mistook Hobart for something hostile and launched four Sparrow Mk III semi-active air intercept missiles, three of which hit the target. The incident was later described as ‘operational error’, a description which Hobart’s ship’s company unanimously derided as a gross under-statement.

As luck would have it I was the on watch BCO at the time of the attack. The Captain had been called because an aeroplane was observed on radar acting in an unusual way and not displaying electronic identification

(IFF). The aircraft was not designated to the weapons systems because of limits imposed by the rules of engagement. In any case the Mk 68 gun director was temporarily offline for unscheduled maintenance.

I remember the first missile strike quite clearly. It was just after 0300 and it hit in the starboard boat space (the personnel boat was not embarked). There wasn’t a noticeable blast, nor an explosion, nor a deafening roar. From my position against the starboard bulkhead in

the Combat Information Centre (CIC) it felt like a gentle vibration – almost an imperceptible murmur - but I knew something was wrong. You do not appreciate how in tune you become with the feel and sounds of the ship beneath your feet. That gentle temporary vibration did not fit. Its frequency or its noise or the mild shudder it generated was foreign to the usual sounds and feel of the ship.

The missile had an expanding rod warhead which shattered into thousands of pieces of shrapnel, each with the consistency of wrought iron. Great damage was caused and the Tartar AA missile defence system was ruined, as were the two air warning radars.

The Captain ordered Action Stations as was the doctrine of the time. Sailors stumbled out of the Aft Seaman’s Mess donning their Action Dress and headed forward. Sailors from the For’ard Seaman’s Mess headed aft. On the Bridge and the CIC reports flowed in: “HQ1 closed Up, ECP closed up, Gunnery System closed up” with each one being ticked off in chinagraph pencil on a little perspex stateboard. The Officers of Quarters were roused from their day dreams and my headset was flooded with reports as the action crews closed up, demanding information I did not have and reporting on the damage and the casualties they encountered. The Captain ordered full ahead and maneuvered the ship violently.

Missile damage 17 June 1968.

Midships replenishment station 17. 17 June showing missile damage. Note shrapnel hole in Ikara magazine deck.



The ship was experienced in going to Action Stations and this was achieved quickly. By prior arrangement I remained at my post in the CIC and my opposite number went to the bridge. The second and third missile strikes ensued.The forward gun opened fire in the general direction of the aircraft verbally guided by AA Control Officer who was the same CPOQMG previously mentioned.

A fine young sailor, who had been off watch, lunged into his seat beside me as a record taker. After we stood down from Action Stations some time later he returned to his bunk at the aft end of the aft seamen’s mess to find a large chunk of a missile’s engine casing resting there having completed its journey through transom, gunners store,

engineer’s workshop and that final bulkhead. Being the man he was his first concern he told me was whether he would be asked to pay for the damage to his bedding!

I note in passing that the kill probability of a Sparrow III missile in 1968 was less than 10% against aircraft but the vertical and horizontal surfaces of a ship’s hull were ideal for a semi active missile.

I developed and retained a serious scepticism of the survivability of surface ships against air attack in the absence of air superiority. I wondered how we would have coped if one of those Kennel anti-ship missiles that the North were rumoured to have had actually been



fired at us. In the Operations Room of later ships I was very suspicious of strange aircraft in the vicinity or even friendly aircraft acting strangely and I had a propensity to consider them hostile until otherwise proven. The opportunities offered by the Naval Combat Data System when operating in fully automated mode were not lost on me. And I could understand how USS Vincennes might have accidentally shot down that Iranian Airbus in 1988.

I became suspicious of Action Stations and was a devotee of the Principal Warfare Officer concept when it emerged as a trial tactic in 1970 and the flexibility it gave to fight the ship in the Third Degree of Readiness and in the absence of forewarning, especially when given the tools provided by an automated combat data system.

When many years later I was Director of Electronic Warfare I pushed the WINNIN/NULKA decoy project because of the speed of response it could provide and also a policy for radar absorbent material for HMA Ships, among other things. The 17th June was somewhere in the back of my mind I am sure.

After the 17th June

Sensitive to the politics of the matter Commander in Chief Pacific Admiral Ulysses S Grant Sharp personally visited the ship accompanied by the Commander US 7th Fleet and two Rear Admirals. Admiral Sharp spoke to those present, which the ships company treated with studied indifference, considering the Admiral’s ‘pop by’ to be token in nature, perhaps a little unfairly, he was after all a very busy man.

Operation MARKET TIME

Following repairs in Subic Bay, Hobart was assigned to MARKET TIME operations south of the DMZ to stop the flow of troops and supplies by sea into South Vietnam. Like SEA DRAGON in the north, MARKET TIME had a major bombardment component including firing on targets of opportunity, random harassing fire, and pre-planned attacks on known enemy positions. In this case, however, the enemy were not in a position to shoot back. The spotting of fall of shot was reliable and close co-operation was possible with Naval Gunfire Liaison Officers who routinely visited the ship by Swift boat. Swift boats also came alongside to provide operational information, frequencies, etc and also to get fresh stores.

Damage to the starboard boat space after the 17 June attack.

Swift boat coming alongside HOBART to transfer operational information, I Corps

Navel gunfire liason officers onboard Hobart for briefing, I Corps.



Olongapo

A discussion of naval operations in Vietnam cannot avoid the elephant in the room - a place called the city of Olongapo, where the naval station was located. The main street was a red light district of extensive proportions full of colour, noise, street food and jeepnys and which catered for every hedonistic desire. Nothing I had experienced at Sydney’s Kings Cross Rex Hotel or the Texas Tavern prepared for me for this. Aussies seemed to favour the New Jollo bar, certainly at the start. When I first entered this establishment, there were blue movies screening on the ceiling. I hadn’t seen a blue movie before and it took me a while to work out what was happening, it being upside down and all.

I soon discovered that the Chuck Wagon café and the Officer’s Club within the base were suitable alternatives and to which I became an habitué. The Chuck Wagon was sort of restaurant, bar and gaming house and where I first encountered something called a gherkin, that was a foreign object for me. The Chuck Wagon is now buried under the Legenda Resort, according to Wikipedia, and the O Club is a casino apparently.

Not that I could escape Olongapo for long because the three Sub Lieutenants were assigned the duty of Shore Patrol Officer. In this capacity I became associated with something akin to a combat unit called USN Shore Patrol staffed by some seriously large and humourless men, wearing white tin hats and bearing enormous truncheons. My shore patrol uniform was Red Sea Rig complete with cummerbund and I took a copy of War and Peace with me knowing that the troops would generally behave themselves, which they normally did, and I sat in a corner of the USN Shore Patrol HQ reading Tolstoy.

The USN Shore Patrol were puzzled by this behaviour and sometimes would insist that I join them in their paddy wagons for a tour of fleshpots and dark places of Olongapo that I would have preferred not to know about. I’ll skip the ducklings and the crocodile…

The Journey Home

Curiously the most tedious stage of the deployment was the passage home. There were Permanent Loan Lists to muster, a huge backlog of maintenance to be done, refit planning to undertake, compartments that were never locked during operations were being dutifully locked again, personnel reports had to be written and the minutiae of admin so readily jettisoned when in the AO had to be restored. Divisions were held, classified books were mustered, the Wardroom audit was completed and so on. Close relationships formed in the reality of combat operations and mutual reliance started to distance as each of us reverted to our peacetime persona. The release of the operational imperative had left lingering indifference to peacetime administration in its wake.

I looked forward to berthing and seeing on the wharf my then girlfriend who had written to me faithfully regularly. She wasn’t there but did come to dinner onboard that night.

On 15th November, 1968, I posted out of Hobart to join the patrol boat Bandolier in Maryborough as the commissioning XO unaware that I would later serve in DDGs on three more occasions twice more in Hobart, who over time became like on old friend.

VI Reflections of a Junior SailorBy Warrant Officer Peter Eveille RAN (Retired)

If I may, I would like to self indulge for a moment or two to explain my association with DDGs – as I believe my association is unique. I have only served in one DDG – HMAS Perth. I joined the ship in 1967 after my Able Seaman course at HMAS Watson. The ship was coming out of an Ikara missile fit-out and I was one of a small group which joined a ship’s company primarily made up of commissioning crew. My idea of the uniqueness is the following:

• three Vietnam deployments,

• two North West Indian Ocean (NWIO) deployments,

• served under six Commanding Officers, and

• served in every rate from Able Seaman Radar Plotter (ABRP) 2 to Warrant Officer in the one ship.

The ship was certainly a part of my naval career progression:

• promoted ABRP, confirmed as a Leading Seaman Radar Plotter (LSRP)

• promoted Acting Petty Officer Radar Plotter (A/PORP), service as the Chief Radar Plotter (CPORP) and promoted Warrant Officer Radar Plotter (WORP).

Original menu board from the Chuck Wagon. Available on Ebay.



My promotion to Warrant Officer is one I will always remember. A minute past midnight (you know a good chief is always in Ops when the Captain is present) the CPO Coxswain entered and called for Captain’s request men to fall in. As I was about to tear him a new “bottom” hole regarding the increased noise level - the request was read out concerning my promotion. This was a shock as I had no knowledge of what was going on. The Captain called to the Direction Officer to support the request – the “D“ said “No” – the Captain replied, “over ridden again D” – and congratulated me on my promotion. My good fortune continued as I was placed on the watchbill to sit on the SWC console and I had the middle watch.

To me the DDG provided the Junior Sailor with opportunity. Until these ships arrived we were (in my view) a microcosm of the RN – particularly in procedures, equipment, etc. From those men of steel and ships of wood – I was called a “plastic”.

From sleeping in a hammock, I had a bunk, a locker that closed properly and was totally confused - as what I was taught at RP School had no relationship to the gear I was to operate on my new ship.

I remember the onboard training from my Leading Hands – how they took time and patience in bringing the raw bones up to speed, the support of the Senior Sailors in making sure you learnt how the ship operated and what was expected from you. Even boat’s crew duties had those little differences – the ship had to be stopped to release the boat. Ship’s husbandry took on a different note as we set about maintaining the ship’s upper deck.

There was a pride within the crew that was infectious. The sailors simply loved their new ship and welcomed us newcomers onboard. This was the Navy I wanted to be part of. Our Captain called the ship ‘Australia’s first guided missile destroyer’ and let everybody know it. I remember Perth coming alongside the P&O ship Arcadia off JB, so the passengers could have a look at her. The fast turn away after the ‘passenger’s inspection’ – it would have looked a great sight. We also had the opportunity to ride with the ship in very heavy seas as we were called to assist in taking an ill cook from Macquarie Island. The details of these stories are most probably left for another chapter. However, most of my time in DDGs was spent operating with USN units and being part of a task group, for example; Vietnam and the North West Indian Ocean deployments.

My Vietnam years included a couple of trips in the Vung Tau Ferry in 1966 and the three Perth deployments (1967 – 71). My Perth duties over these years included logging the UHF distress frequency and watching the URD-4 direction finder - in case of downed aircraft operating over North Vietnam.

Perth, following the good work of Hobart and enjoying the RAN’s high reputation that had been established by Hobart was quickly moved into Operation SEA DRAGON operations off North Vietnam. These operations continued until the North Vietnam bombing cessation in 1968.

I was also the General Operations Plot compiler. We had a large plot table set up in the EW office (as that time the

space in the Operations Room which was to become the GOP was the MSO). I remember returning to the Gunline on one occasion from an R&R in Hong Kong. When we left Hong Kong the nuclear-powered ships, USS Enterprise and her escort USS Bainbridge were also there.

However, not long after reporting in on the SSSC circuit up comes Enterprise with her position. As we had to check in each hour, it was extraordinary the amount of ocean that Enterprise and Bainbridge covered in an hour. Later on I was to be the Spot Net operator – speaking with shore and air spotters in conducting NGS activities. I felt this to be a rewarding job – as you became very involved in the ship’s operations and working with the command team.

During these periods, the RPs worked in Defence watches; a two- watch system. I did not mind this routine. We were however required to turn to out of watch for the regular UNREP (aka RAS). Re -ammunitioning was a very important factor and getting the rounds across and stowed in quick time become a bit ‘competitive’ as we strived to quicken our time which allowed less time away from the Gunline. Replenishing food was also interesting – as I used to notice the various labels on the food items and cartons (eg, oranges from Israel).

Another important fact for me was the great quality of the mail service. Being recently married, before my first deployment, mail was certainly good for the morale. Also, a bigger pay packet made an impression – we were paid in USA currency on leaving Sydney and did not have to pay income tax. For those who were married, a couple of extra dollars was very welcome.

Another recall (one pretty much etched in) was the day we received a direct hit from North Vietnam shore batteries. It was close to 0800 on the 18 October 1967. Those of us coming off watch were ripping into mince with fried eggs – when the Direction Officer piped that “the ship has been hit”. Of course, that backed up the noise we had just heard.

During Operation SEA DRAGON the ship initially went to a “modified action” state when the ship was on a fire mission – this meant those in two watches stayed in position if on watch, and those off watch went to back up positions. For example, the RPs sat in a passageway and waited till called for or fallen out after the event.

My task when off watch was to close up in the emergency conning position with the XO. My job was to check the internal comms on the ECP. The day we were hit, I remember being closed up with the XO in a flak jacket and great sized helmet, one that let headphones be worn under it. I was listening to the lookouts calling (shouting) the fall of shot relative to the ship. I am still searching for the term “that was bloody close” in the gunnery BRs. Sadly, four were wounded with two being medevaced. I met the XO many years later, we had both retired from the Navy, he was former Vice Admiral Ian Knox and I advised him I was pretty scared on that day. I was relieved when he replied, he was too.

Exactly a year later, same time, and same menu the ship was strafed again, but my role, as I was off watch again, was to sit in the passageway and hear the small pieces



of shrapnel hit the ship’s side. Later on, the closing up of the off watch was reviewed as it did make for tiredness, which leads to mistakes and errors. I have a personal story on that issue, but it can wait for another time.

The two-watch system was maintained during my time, even in work ups off the East coast (much to some XO’s chagrin). However, we were training for the deployments to follow and the training was essential as in the Operations Room the Junior Sailors did have responsibility to the Command Team for their actions.

After Vietnam, Perth was awarded a USN commendation for both her first and second deployments. Crew members received a ribbon to recognise the ship’s achievements and these are ribbons I still wear proudly today on those commemorative occasions.

In summary of those years, I learnt a lot and, the way I carried out my responsibilities and leadership duties later on was influenced by those I served with in Vietnam.

I mentioned the word OPPORTUNITY earlier. I believe the DDGs provided enormous opportunities for the sailors who wished to grasp them.

For example, the electrical rates. Specialised courses in USA, rapid promotion and regular posting to DDGs, increased responsibility in maintaining systems that operated to save the ship and the lives of the ship’s companies. In speaking with these people today, they now realise the impact these ships had on their careers.

In my own category the RP branch, the opportunity was working closely with the Command team, air control tasks and feeling trusted that your input was important and acted upon. It placed you in a position where you wanted to succeed and not be one that let the team down.

Looking back with the benefit of hindsight, the relationships between members of the Command Team with the Commanding Officer and other members of the team, allowed me to form my own methods and standards of working with others, picking what I thought were the good traits and examples and doing away with the not so good. These influences, learnt and picked up from officers and senior Sailors, some with World War II and Korea experience to the modern educated young officers allowed me to operate with a confidence in my post navy career in senior middle management positions in the Human Relations field.

Another highlight resulting from DDG service was being selected for the exchange program with the USN. Coming from a background of working with the USN it was easy to fit in with their procedures and methods. This helped a great deal in the instructor role and being at sea in their Operations Room. Those two and half years will be remembered always and as I was accompanied, this posting made a very big impression on my family. My wife and I adopted an American daughter and brought her home with our two boys. For my eldest son, who always wanted to return to the USA – he finally did with a posting to the Embassy in Washington a few years ago. I also

wish to thank a member of this audience for his wonderful support in getting me to apply for this posting in the first place. I won’t mention his name, but I think he may have been Fleet Direction Officer (FDO) around the 1976 era.

Another major learning point was knowing the ship as a Junior Sailor in a manual state and returning as a senior sailor to an automated world. Before joining the ship as its CPORP, I wondered how it would feel. Fortunately, I had had the recent USN experience and had undertaken NCDS training at Fyshwick here in the ACT. I was also lucky knowing how other internal bits (like the communications layout and other gear not NCDS related worked). My “D” was a Principal Warfare Officer - Direction (PWO D) and kept watches alongside the other specialist PWOs as Surface Weapon Controllers (SWCs). At this time our CO, whom I have the highest respect and may he rest in peace, was a hard task master and required tasks to be carried out at a 110% standard. I employed myself on an 18-hour day with instructions to be on call at other times. The troops were in a defence two watch system which included the Petty Officers. The POs were tasked with looking after and supervising the daily activities while I concentrated on and planned for what was coming up tomorrow. I had access to the signals that came into Ops, and I was able to ensure communications, rendezvous points, Rainform signal traffic interpretation and intel items was completed to avoid panic. The CO could create panic pretty quickly if he wished. The main benefit in my case was having most of the answers to the queries the CO had. Also with the PWO D watch keeping I did not see him as regularly as I wanted – therefore I was working to and supporting all four PWOs. I was fortunate that I had a good working relationship with the CO, having passed my “trial by fire” when I was his senior RP while he was head FTG. It’s interesting that we remained in contact right until death.

I always wonder what it must have been like for previous Chiefs in the early years coming onboard with the possibility that the troops may know more about their gear than the CPO. In my case, I didn’t get caught in becoming an operator and being isolated in the Ops Room. In some areas, the Junior Sailors were more knowledgeable with the NCDS equipment than me. I read about the ship and what the equipment could do and personally maintained the Operations Room logs – and with the training I did, I was confident I could not be fooled. I had confidence in the junior rates and explained they could put their ship into the Action State by the work they did and the detections they made and reinforced the importance of their role.

I’ll close at this point. My service in our DDGs was a life changing experience for me. It is one I will not forget and is always the basis of the “war stories” we like to tell. I must admit those stories get better each time they are told as another Navy habit – “black catting your mate” kicks in.








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Documents

DDG in Vietnam and Lessons for the Royal Australian Navy...Just two years after the first of three Charles F. Adams class guided missile destroyers (DDGs) entered service in the RAN,