Alexandria, VA – It was crisp that night, 24 October 2013, one of those nights when the leaves desperately hang onto their branch only to be swept away in a short gust of wind; the street lights and the autumn mist mix to throw a strange, almost noire atmosphere into the night.
My bride Pamela and I were visiting friends in Alexandria for a few days before going to my Naval Academy reunion. Staying in Old Town, we popped into Landini’s. Susan, my bartender for nearly 15 years, beamed her wonderful smile and we sat down to catch up on the local goings-on.
A stool away sat a gentleman who turned to acknowledge us. Emblazoned on his shirt was the Eagle, Globe, and Anchor motif of the U.S. Marine Corps. An LSU ballcap hung from his back pocket. His pate shone in the subdued light, and I realized that he was none other than campaign advisor James Carville.
He was commenting about the next election and told his small crew gathered that he lived nearby, as Alexandria was good for his consulting and appearances on various news programs. He introduced himself and exchanged pleasantries with us. When he asked about my past, I mentioned that I was a retired Navy officer, had spent two tours with the Marines and that my brother was a Marine as well.
Somehow, the discussion included his age. He proudly announced that he was turning 69 soon and could I, being a Navy type, guess his birthday? He said, “I’ll give you a hint. I was born on the day the greatest surface battle in U.S. Navy history was fought.”
I didn’t miss a beat. “James, your birthday is tomorrow, 25 October, and you were born during the Battle of Leyte Gulf.”
A giant smile came across his face and he announced, “Absolutely correct, Sir! I knew a real Navy guy would guess it.” His crew stood there awestruck. He bought Pam and me another drink as a reward. Even Susan looked like I had just won Final Jeopardy.
Soon after our table was ready, we made our good-byes-and-have-a-good-nights and excused ourselves for dinner.
The Battle off Samar was fought at Leyte Gulf when Task Unit 77.4.3—a miniscule, haphazardly assembled group of 13 ships—went up against a major Imperial Japanese Navy Task Force twice its size with 31 ships. That Task Unit’s nickname was Taffy 3.
By October 1944, the then-Empire of Japan was shrinking after over a decade of conquering territory all across Asia. The Japanese Navy, however, saw a glimmer of opportunity to deal a decisive blow against America’s forces in the Pacific. General Douglas MacArthur’s forces might be vulnerable if the Japanese Navy could attack and sink America’s aircraft carriers and reverse MacArthur’s landing in the Philippines. They split their ships into three forces and sailed through the island channels to catch us off-guard.
One Task Force under the seasoned Japanese Navy Vice Admiral Takeo Kurita ran into two American submarines, which sank two of Kurita’s ships, including the ship he was on, forcing him to swim to another ship.
On the morning of 25 October, Kurita could not believe his luck. As his task force exited the San Bernardino straits, dawn revealed the 13 American ships of Taffy 3 under the command of Rear Admiral Clifton “Ziggy” Sprague, one of the Navy’s legendary aviators.
Taffy 3 comprised six “escort carriers,” so-called because of their small size and limited armament, three destroyers, and four destroyer escorts, nicknamed “tin cans” due to their size and potential expendability.
The bulk of the Battle of Leyte Gulf fighting was distant from Sprague’s Taffy 3, so the crews stood down from battle stations around 6:30 am the morning of 25 October and began their daily routines.
Around that time, a lone U.S. plane from one of the Taffy 3 carriers spotted the large Japanese Task Force heading directly toward the American ships. Ensign Bill Brooks turned and dove his plane at the task force. When he saw the distinctive silhouettes of Japanese battleships, cruisers, and destroyers, he radioed the information to the battle staff at Taffy 3. A duty officer questioned Brooks’ sighting, dismissing Brooks’ report as an “excitable young pilot,” until Brooks dove closer to the massive Japanese formation, called back, and the horrendous explosions buffeting Brooks’ aircraft were heard over the radio.
Admiral Ziggy Sprague knew his little force was in trouble and ordered all aircraft airborne to help meet the threat bearing down on his little Taffy 3. Many planes were not adequately armed to attack surface ships—many even without ammunition—yet they took off toward the advancing Japanese column, dropping what few bombs they had and many diving at ships without any offensive weapons at all.
All the excitement over the radio circuits piqued the interest of Commander Ernest Evans, Commanding Officer of the USS JOHNSTON (DD-557). Evans, a Native American of Cherokee/Creek descent who earned the nickname Big Chief at the Naval Academy, smelled trouble. Instinctively, without orders, he ordered his ship to turn at flank speed toward the advancing Japanese task force and attack with torpedoes.
Admiral Sprague, knowing that his escort carriers, nicknamed Kaiser Coffins for their notorious limited armament and poor watertight integrity, were potential prey for the invading force, ordered his other six tin cans to attack the Japanese force.
The American forces were completely outgunned and outnumbered by the giant Japanese force, yet the determined little tin cans fired their little guns and torpedoes in a desperate effort to protect the valuable carriers. Planes dived and weaved at the Japanese ships like swarms of flies. Rain squalls and smoke often obscured the battle scene. The JOHNSTON and several other ships of Taffy 3 were pounded mercilessly for over three hours by the massive Japanese guns twice the size of the Americans’.
The last anyone saw of Commander Evans he was standing on the stern of a smoldering and sinking JOHNSTON, uniform shirt ripped and torn from his body, hand, face, and chest bleeding, and still shouting firing orders to his gun crews, as the JOHNSTON slid below the waves.
The carriers USS GAMBIER BAY (CVE 73) and USS SAINT LO (CVE 63), destroyer HOEL (DD 533), and the tiny destroyer escort SAMUEL B. ROBERTS (DE 413) all went down, their surviving crews adrift in the sea for three days until they were rescued. Many were attacked by sharks.
Admiral Kurita, whose Task Force had taken so many severe blows from the ships and planes of Taffy 3 despite the mauling he gave the ships of Taffy 3, decided to save his remaining ships to protect the Japanese homeland. He turned his force and sailed away from the plucky, smoldering Americans.
The Battle of Leyte Gulf was a U.S. victory because of the sheer, visceral, and unflagging spirit of U.S. sailors through smoke, bullets, steel, blood and, finally, sharks. It happened 80 years ago this month. You probably never heard about it. But that’s OK. James Carville did. The sailors who were there did. Their families did.
And their sacrifice has been passed down to a new generation of sailors.
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