| USS Newcomb (DD-586) | |
|---|---|
| Hull Number | DD-586 |
| Class | Fletcher-Class Destroyer |
| Built at | Bethlehem Steel, Boston, MA |
| Keel Laid | March 19, 1943 |
| Launched | July 4, 1943 |
| Commissioned | November 11, 1943 |
| Decommissioned | November 20, 1945 |
| Displacement | 2,050 tons |
| Length | 376.6 feet |
| Beam | 39.6 feet |
| Draft | 17.75 feet |
| Power | 60,000 horsepower (tested at 64,000) |
| Top Speed | 35+ knots (~40 mph) |
| Propulsion | 2 fire rooms, 4 boilers, 2 engine rooms, steam turbines, 2 propellers |
| Crew | ~330–350 officers and enlisted |
| Designation | Flagship, Destroyer Squadron 56 (DesRon 56) |
| Battle Stars | 8 (World War II) |
| Awards | Navy Unit Commendation |
| Weapon | Details |
|---|---|
| 5-inch guns | Five 5"/38 caliber dual-purpose guns (Mounts 1–5) |
| 40mm guns | Five twin-mount 40mm anti-aircraft guns |
| 20mm guns | Numerous 20mm Oerlikon anti-aircraft cannons |
| Torpedoes | Ten 21-inch torpedoes in two quintuple mounts |
| Depth charges | Depth charge racks and K-guns for ASW warfare |
From the Dictionary of American Naval Fighting Ships, Vol. V, 1970
"Newcomb shook down in the West Indies for a month, then made passage to the Marshall Islands, arriving 4 April 1944 for two months duty on antisubmarine patrol off the Japanese held Mille, Wotje, and Jaluit atolls. She next joined the assault on Saipan as flagship for the screen from 29 May until 5 August, serving as fire support and patrol ship at both Saipan and Tinian. On 22 June, while guarding transports, she and the Chandler (DMS 9) sank Japanese submarine I-185, and on 4 July her well-directed fire broke up a Japanese banzai attack north of Garapan on Saipan.
"Operating in the Fire Support and Bombardment Group for the assault on the Palaus 6 September to 1 October, Newcomb fired 23 separate shore bombardments and also covered underwater demolition teams providing bombardment control spotting. As flagship of Destroyer Squadron 56, Newcomb joined in the Leyte landings 12 October to 4 December, covering underwater demolition teams and firing pre-invasion bombardment, call-fire, night-harassing, and illumination missions.
"Her squadron made a daring night torpedo attack in the Surigao Strait phase of the Battle for Leyte Gulf 25 October. At least one (actually 3 — NHC) of her 5 torpedoes struck the battleship Yamashiro, sunk in this action. Closely straddled but not damaged, Newcomb went to the aid of stricken Albert W. Grant (DD649) providing medical aid and a tow out of the battle area. In this classic sea battle, Newcomb and her sisters played a key role in the great American victory which insured the success of MacArthur's return to the Philippines, and effectively ended major Japanese naval threats for the remainder of the war.
"Often under fire from Japanese aircraft, several of which she destroyed, Newcomb continued important service in the Philippines, engaging Japanese shore batteries at Ormoc 9 December while screening landing craft, fighting a convoy through heavy enemy air attack to Mindoro 19 through 24 December, and driving off 2 would-be kamikazes during the Lingayen landing 6 January 1945. She covered operations in Lingayen Gulf through 24 January, then prepared for duty as fire support ship at Iwo Jima from 10 February, where she covered minesweeping for three days prior to the landing. During the invasion the destroyer engaged shore batteries and fired pin-point accurate bombardments of inestimable assistance to troops ashore. She again engaged a Japanese submarine 25 February, with unknown results.
"Departing Iwo Jima 10 March, Newcomb joined the Okinawa assault force 11 days later, and again covered underwater demolition and minesweeping operations as well as antiaircraft and shore bombardment until 6 April, when she was screening minesweepers off Ie Shima. At least 40 enemy aircraft were observed in the area during the day, and at 1600 suicide attacks began. Though handicapped by a low ceiling, her gunners were able to drive off or shoot down several attackers, but over the period of an hour and a half, she was struck five times. With a skill and fighting spirit which won them a Navy Unit Commendation, her crew worked furiously to repair engine damage and extinguish fires, while continuing to fight their ship and maneuver to avoid further crashes. Aid was rendered by Leutze (DD 481), herself struck by the fifth kamikaze skipping across from the Newcomb, and Beale (DD 471). Indomitably afloat, fires and power out, with 18 killed, 20 missing, and 64 wounded, Newcomb was towed to Kerama Retto by Tekesta (ATF-93).
"Repairs to her hull were made by Vestal (AR-4) under frequent enemy air attack, and 14 June she left under tow for Saipan, Pearl Harbor, and San Francisco, arriving 8 August. The end of the war ended further repairs, and Newcomb decommissioned 20 November 1945. Stricken from the Navy List 28 March 1946, she was scrapped at Mare Island Navy Yard in October 1947.
"Newcomb received 8 battle stars for World War II service."
Written by Nate Cook, QM2/c, USS Newcomb
At this point I think I will take some time to describe the Newcomb — my home for the next two years.
The Newcomb was a 2,100-ton, Fletcher-class destroyer — the finest destroyer class of World War II. At the time of her commissioning, she represented the cutting edge of naval technology: radar, sonar, a powerful main battery, and torpedoes capable of striking an enemy miles away in the dark of night.
The Newcomb was a "flush-deck" destroyer, meaning the main deck ran at one continuous level from bow to stern, with walkways down both the starboard (right) and port (left) sides.
Walking aft from the bow, past the anchoring equipment, we come to #1 gun — a 5-inch 38-caliber dual-purpose weapon. On top of the forward deckhouse sits #2 gun. Behind it, on each side of the ship, are twin 40mm anti-aircraft guns.
Inside the forward deckhouse you find the officers' wardroom, the Squadron Commander's stateroom, and the radar and plotting room where we kept track of ships and planes.
Going up one level we find the radio shack, decoding area, and the chart room — home to our charts and chronometers. As Quartermaster, I spent many off-watch hours in that tiny space, perhaps 6 by 8 feet.
Up one more level is the navigating bridge: the pilot house forward, then the sonar room and fire control station, and at the aft end, the Captain's sea cabin. All around these enclosed spaces were the "wings" of the bridge — home to the 40mm directors and torpedo directors. All the ship's signaling, with blinker lights, flag-hoists, or semaphore flags, was done from here.
At the very top is the small, windswept "flying bridge," with the enclosed armored main battery director at its center. We called the exposed deck around it "Shrapnel Alley" — a name derived from the location's exposure to enemy fire and the fact that our only protection was a 30-inch canvas windscreen.
For my first year aboard, my General Quarters station was as Quartermaster in the pilot house. In November 1944, as kamikaze attacks became more frequent, my station was moved to the flying bridge — to Shrapnel Alley — where I commanded the GQ lookouts.
The central third of the ship below the main deck is occupied by the propulsion plant: two fire rooms, each with two boilers, and two engine rooms — one driving each propeller. These spaces are completely sealed by watertight bulkheads. Each is accessed only through hatches in the main deck. In sea trials off Boston, our engines produced 64,000 horsepower — more than the rated 60,000.
Above the engine rooms is the amidships deckhouse containing workshops, the sick bay, ship's office, the brig, and most importantly, the galley. That galley — roughly 160 square feet — provided three meals a day for 350 people. Our bakers worked in the small hours of the night producing bread and sometimes pies, and when baking was underway the whole ship smelled wonderful.
Above the amidships deckhouse were our two quintuple torpedo mounts — ten 21-inch torpedoes, the ship's most powerful offensive weapon. These could be fired to port or starboard and were aimed from the bridge directors or locally.
Below the aft deck, beneath #4 and #5 guns, were the after crew's quarters — my home. In a space roughly 60 by 30 feet, including bulkheads, ladders, and an ammunition handling room, about 160 of us bunked. Bunks were stacked three high. The overhead height was about 6½ feet.
"To put this into perspective, in a space about the size of one floor of a moderate-sized house, some 150 of us lived. We shared the toilets and washroom in the after deckhouse. There was always discussion about whether the forward or after quarters were preferable. In rough weather, both rolled the same. But once you have made good friends in one area, you are content to stay."
— Nate Cook
All fresh water aboard had to be made from seawater through distillation — and our capacity was limited. The "evaporators" also produced make-up feedwater for our four boilers. So we were strictly limited. Showers were turned on for only a few hours at a time. When the evaporators went down for maintenance and showers were shut off for days, the standard procedure was to hang a fire hose over the barrel of #5 gun and announce "salt-water showers on the fantail."
For normal cruising, the crew was divided into three watch sections. We "dogged" the watches daily, so each group's schedule moved ahead four hours every day. Watches were:
| Watch | Hours |
|---|---|
| Midwatch | 0000–0400 |
| Morning Watch | 0400–0800 |
| Forenoon Watch | 0800–1200 |
| Afternoon Watch | 1200–1600 |
| First Dog Watch | 1600–1800 |
| Second Dog Watch | 1800–2000 |
| Evening Watch | 2000–2400 |
The first time we went to General Quarters in daylight at the dock, it took 15–30 minutes. A few months later, when GQ was for real and not a drill, we had it down to 3 minutes — in pitch darkness, in a rough sea. I am still impressed at how "well-oiled" we became as a crew.
"It's difficult for me to describe my 'feelings' for the Newcomb. For almost two years she was to be my home. As such she satisfied my love of salt water and my love of things mechanical. She was to take me to far places, to put me in harm's way, and to bring me home. She was my introduction to adventure, to extreme fear, to the knowledge of my own mortality, and to a camaraderie that can only be experienced, not described.
"We the crew became, over time, a very tightly-knit group; each dependent upon the others for all of our needs, indeed, for our very lives.
"The ship by itself was a fine man-made entity, but as the crew became well trained, the ship seemed to take on a character of its own. The synergism between ship and crew produced a unique, living, entity.
"As you can tell, my 'feelings' for the Newcomb went deep — and still go deep."
— Nate Cook, QM2/c