One of the things I most love when researching is coming across genuinely interesting events that somehow failed to be included in the "Official History". This one has to do with French battleship Jean Bart at Casablanca after her disablement by USS Massachusetts.
U S Naval War College – Digital Commons
MEMOIRS OF ADMIRAL H KENT HEWITT (USN)
https://digital-commons.usnwc.edu/cgi/v ... monographs
(page 174)
"On the morning of the 10th, General Patton came out for a conference with me
on the Augusta. Disembarking from a bobbing landing craft, he had to climb a rope
embarkation net up the high side of the ship to the well deck. Although he was a
well-known athlete, he was so slowed by fatigue and by the equipment he wore that
I momentarily feared for his safety. If he had ever let go, he would have sunk like a
stone. Captain Hutchins and I, who were waiting to receive him, got down on our
knees, reached over the side, and as soon as we could, grabbed his arms and literally
hauled him aboard. As we walked up to my cabin, I noted that the general did seem
pretty well worn out, so, remembering an Indianapolis experience, I sent my orderly
to summon the ship’s medical officer. When he arrived, I said, “Doctor, I think the
general is very tired, and I wish you would prescribe for him.” “And,” I added, “you
might prescribe for me, too.” He took the hint. Forever after, General Patton
claimed that I had saved his life on that occasion.
Hardly had General Patton left the ship on his return to shore when there was a
report from an observation plane that there were several small enemy vessels off-
shore, apparently firing into our troops advancing from Fedala. This naturally
could not be allowed, so the Augusta, Brooklyn, and two accompanying destroyers
took off once more down the coast. This was somewhat of a surprise, because we
had been led to believe that all the light forces in Casablanca were, by this time, hors
de combat. They were only two small corvettes, which were soon driven back into
port, but not before we received a surprise of another sort.
As we came down the coast to close the range, our proximity to the Jean Bart
caused us no concern, because we knew that she had received hits from the Massa-
chusetts and had been heavily bombed. Her turret, trained toward the Massachusetts
on the 8th, had not been moved since that day, according to reports from the air.
Suddenly, two huge orange splashes rose, so close alongside the bridge of the
Augusta that I and others on the flag bridge were doused with the spray. It was no
place for the Augusta to be. We promptly rang up full speed, put the rudder full
right, made smoke and zigzagged away, but not before we had been near-missed
several times more by the Jean Bart’s two-gun salvos. The French gunnery was ex-
cellent. It was a close call. Later I was to learn the French side of that episode from a
rugged Breton, who, as her captain, was responsible for sneaking that half-
completed ship out from under the noses of the Germans when France fell and who,
promoted to contre amiral, was in command of the Casablanca defenses at the time of
our landing. This was Pierre Jean Ronarc’h, a gruff man with a keen sense of humor,
who became a very good friend. Said he, “On Sunday (the 8th), the Massachusetts
made a hit on the barbette, which jammed the turret in train. The crew, after working
diligently for thirty-six hours, finally got it free. I ordered it left trained as it was.
So it happened, when you ran down the coast on Tuesday after our little corvettes,
the gunnery control officer sat up in the top beckoning and saying, ‘Come a little
closer! Come a little closer!’ And you came.”
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U S Naval War College – Digital Commons
MEMOIRS OF ADMIRAL H KENT HEWITT (USN)
https://digital-commons.usnwc.edu/cgi/v ... monographs
(page 174)
"On the morning of the 10th, General Patton came out for a conference with me
on the Augusta. Disembarking from a bobbing landing craft, he had to climb a rope
embarkation net up the high side of the ship to the well deck. Although he was a
well-known athlete, he was so slowed by fatigue and by the equipment he wore that
I momentarily feared for his safety. If he had ever let go, he would have sunk like a
stone. Captain Hutchins and I, who were waiting to receive him, got down on our
knees, reached over the side, and as soon as we could, grabbed his arms and literally
hauled him aboard. As we walked up to my cabin, I noted that the general did seem
pretty well worn out, so, remembering an Indianapolis experience, I sent my orderly
to summon the ship’s medical officer. When he arrived, I said, “Doctor, I think the
general is very tired, and I wish you would prescribe for him.” “And,” I added, “you
might prescribe for me, too.” He took the hint. Forever after, General Patton
claimed that I had saved his life on that occasion.
Hardly had General Patton left the ship on his return to shore when there was a
report from an observation plane that there were several small enemy vessels off-
shore, apparently firing into our troops advancing from Fedala. This naturally
could not be allowed, so the Augusta, Brooklyn, and two accompanying destroyers
took off once more down the coast. This was somewhat of a surprise, because we
had been led to believe that all the light forces in Casablanca were, by this time, hors
de combat. They were only two small corvettes, which were soon driven back into
port, but not before we received a surprise of another sort.
As we came down the coast to close the range, our proximity to the Jean Bart
caused us no concern, because we knew that she had received hits from the Massa-
chusetts and had been heavily bombed. Her turret, trained toward the Massachusetts
on the 8th, had not been moved since that day, according to reports from the air.
Suddenly, two huge orange splashes rose, so close alongside the bridge of the
Augusta that I and others on the flag bridge were doused with the spray. It was no
place for the Augusta to be. We promptly rang up full speed, put the rudder full
right, made smoke and zigzagged away, but not before we had been near-missed
several times more by the Jean Bart’s two-gun salvos. The French gunnery was ex-
cellent. It was a close call. Later I was to learn the French side of that episode from a
rugged Breton, who, as her captain, was responsible for sneaking that half-
completed ship out from under the noses of the Germans when France fell and who,
promoted to contre amiral, was in command of the Casablanca defenses at the time of
our landing. This was Pierre Jean Ronarc’h, a gruff man with a keen sense of humor,
who became a very good friend. Said he, “On Sunday (the 8th), the Massachusetts
made a hit on the barbette, which jammed the turret in train. The crew, after working
diligently for thirty-six hours, finally got it free. I ordered it left trained as it was.
So it happened, when you ran down the coast on Tuesday after our little corvettes,
the gunnery control officer sat up in the top beckoning and saying, ‘Come a little
closer! Come a little closer!’ And you came.”
Bstatistics: Posted by Blutarski — 11:14 PM - 1 day ago — Replies 2 — Views 93