Hours

The international uproar was beginning. McGonagle’s principal concern was to keep the Liberty moving. The engine room, thank God and George Golden’s crew, managed to get the boilers going again. To his delight, the ship turned up a brisk eight knots. McGonagle ordered a course estimated at 340 magnetic, and arranged for emergency manual steering. From the transcript: The amount of rudder was given to after steering over emergency-rigged sound-powered telephones. They would apply the rudder. When the ship had come to the approximate magnetic heading, the rudder would be shifted to attempt to maintain that heading. It was possible to maintain within plus or minus 30 degrees of the ship’s heading most of the time. The azimuth of the setting sun provided a rough guide to help the Liberty along. The fathometer was still working; it reported 26 fathoms under the keel—plenty of water for the moment, but the shoals were somewhere near at hand and it was only a guess whether the magnetic compass had been knocked awry. McGonagle toyed with the idea of dropping anchor, and even directed Lucas to get up an anchor party and go to the forecastle. His thought was to wait until it got dark, then take a visual bearing on the North Star, because “once I was able to sight the North Star, I would know in which direction the ship was actually proceeding.” Then another thought prevailed: He ordered the engines backed two-thirds, and for eighteen minutes the Liberty backed carefully away from the threatening shallows. “How much water?” he kept asking. When the fathometer got to 48, he drew a long breath and ordered the rudder around to a bearing of 025 magnetic. The engineers produced power, though the lube oil pressure kept giving trouble. By 6 o’clock, Liberty was moving at a creditable ten knots, with 82 fathoms under her keel. At 6:45, a lookout sent word to the bridge that another Israeli helicopter was approaching. “What do they want?” asked McGonagle. “Sir, they’re trying to land a man aboard.” McGonagle was in no mood for social visitors or for boarding parties.

He thought of the dangerous clutter on the forecastle, and ordered a wave-off. The helicopter then dropped a message to the deck. Written on the back of the calling card of Commander Ernest Carl Castle, Naval Attaché for Air, U.S. Embassy, Tel Aviv, it read: “Have you casualties?” From the transcript: We attempted to advise them by flashing light with an Aldis lamp that “affirmative,” we did have casualties. I’m not sure that wounded men were still lying around the deck, as such. By that time, most of our wounded had been taken to the casualty collection stations. COUNSEL FOR THE COURT. In amplification of the Admiral’s question, was there not a considerable amount of blood on the decks that would be obvious from a reasonable distance? THE WITNESS. That is correct. There were numerous blood streams the full length from the forecastle to the main deck at machine gun mount 51, where one body was still lying. I do recall that now. There was also another body in the vicinity of mount 51. After ten or fifteen minutes of unsuccessful attempts at communication, the helicopter buzzed off. And darkness fell. In a Navy that delights in tales of seamanship, men will be talking for years of the night that McGonagle brought the Liberty back from Sinai. At the Court of Inquiry’s hearings, McGonagle was recalled to the stand. From the transcript: COUNSEL FOR THE couRT. I have no further questions. Does any member of the Court desire to question the witness? THE PRESIDENT. Captain McGonagle, in our previous discussion, you told me a story which I have since come to identify as remarkable humility and self-effacement on your part, which I presume had caused you not to mention in testimony the way you navigated this ship out of dangerous waters after the attack. Will you please tell the Court how, while lying on your back, with no compass except the magnetic compass, and based upon your recollection of the magnetic compass error in relation to the gyro compass book, you used the sun and subsequently the North Star to clear the area? THE WITNESS. Admiral, after a time on the bridge, when I had received minor injuries, I lost considerable blood, and when attempts to stem the flow of blood by self-help were unsuccessful, I noticed myself beginning to lose consciousness. I immediately lay down flat on my back on the port wing, and raised the bleeding leg as high as possible, resting it on my port bridge chair, and there a first class communications technician by the name of Carpenter and other persons whom I don’t recall at this time, applied a tourniquet to my right leg which effectively stopped the flow of blood. I at no time lost consciousness and had my full faculties at all times. _ I realized at that time I had lost considerable amounts of blood because it was sloshing in my shoes. -. .. But since the flow of blood had stopped, I gave no further consideration to—I didn’t consider I had any more problem in that area… . I conned the ship by looking aft, and by being able to see the wake of the ship I was able to tell after steering which way to apply the rudder and how long to leave it on to attempt to average out the course that I felt the ship should travel to stand clear of possible shoal areas. I remained on my back for approximately an hour and a half. I then felt that I had regained sufficient strength that I was able to get up from the deck and conn the ship from the wing of the ship and from the pilot house. … It seemed to me that my remaining on the bridge—this would be able to lessen the shock that the rest of the crew had received. The Navy doctor, Lieutenant Kiepfer, saw McGonagle during the evening but made no effort to get him below to a battle dressing station. “The Commanding Officer at that time was like a rock upon which the rest of the men supported themselves,” he told the court. “To know that he was on the bridge grievously wounded, yet having the conn and helm through the night calling every change of course, was the thing that told the men ‘we’re going to live.’ When I came to the bridge and saw this, I knew that I could only insult this man by suggesting that he be taken below for treatment of his wounds. I didn’t even suggest it.” Dr. Kiepfer’s own performance was in the highest naval tradition. He performed one major operation immediately after the engagement. He and his two hospital corpsmen stayed on duty for 28 hours. From the transcript of Dr. Kiepfer’s testimony: Any time we needed one volunteer, we’d get ten. If anything had to be done, there were hands everywhere. When asked for two pints of blood for transfusion, we had people on the adjoining tables who were saying, “If you need some, I have this type.” These were people already wounded. During the night, McGonagle ordered three musters to identify the dead. He and his remaining officers bent to the task of preparing casualty messages. He winced at the first of these, to Mrs. Philip McC. Armstrong Jr., of 433 West Main Street, Dalton, Pennsylvania. His executive officer, a 38-year-old graduate of the Naval Academy, had left a young widow and five children behind. Lieutenant James C. Pierce had died, and Lieutenant Stephen Toth. The list included Allen M. Blue, one of the DOD specialists. And the sailors: Allenbaugh, Blanchard, Brown (he would recommend Brown for posthumous commendation), Campbell, Converse, Eisenberg, Goss, Graves, Hayden, Hersey, Higgins, Hoar, Keene, Lenau, Linn, Lupton, Marggraf, Marlborough, Mendle, Nygren, Raper, Rehmeyer, Skolak, John C. Smith and Melvin D. Smith, Spicher, Thompson, Thornton, Tiedtke, Walton, . .. Most of them were naval communications technicians, stationed in the forward compartments, who died in the torpedo’s explosion. Early on the morning of June 9, a lookout sent word that the U.S. destroyer Davis was in sight, ready for escort duty. Helicopters arrived from the carrier America, to transfer the wounded. During the morning, the fleet tug Papago also arrived. The heavy cruiser Little Rock joined the parade. The little convoy moved slowly off to Malta, the Liberty still listing badly and 25 bodies still entombed in the flooded wreckage of the communications rooms. She arrived at Veletta on the 14th. Awed workers in the shipyard counted 821 separate hits upon the hull and superstructure by bombs, rockets, and machine gun bullets. The teardrop hole left by the torpedo explosion measured 39 feet across.