A long, brutal and intractable war was going on in a violent part of the world. A neutral trading nation became embroiled and sought aide from the international community. The US Navy was thrown into the breach, a national application of sea power to once again attempt to ensure the freedom of the seas and international commerce.
A frigate patrolled the dark waters of the Arabian Gulf, part of its crew asleep, all of them blissfully unaware of the place they were about to take in world history. Twenty-nine of them would never again greet the dawn, and before the ink dried in the ship’s log, eight more would join them in the clearing at the end of the path.
It was but one ship in a fleet of almost 500 ships, the most powerful flotilla the world had ever seen, but one that was cast over a wide, open sea. She was all alone in the darkness, and perhaps she was complacent even as the missiles came in – after all, who would attack a US naval warship operating in international waters? Who would dare?
Just before sundown on 17 May, an Iraqi pilot in an F-1 Mirage jet headed down the Gulf, scanning his instruments for oil tankers.
In the darkened combat information center of the U.S. Navy guided missile frigate USS Stark (FFG 31), an operations specialist noted the Mirage’s blip on his screen: track number 2202, range two hundred miles, headed inbound. The jet was pointed past the ship, four miles off the port beam. The sailor passed the word to his skipper.
At two minutes after 9 p.m., the Mirage locked its Cyrano-IV fire-control radar onto the Stark. The frigate’s instruments lit up in warning. A sailor asked permission to send a standard “back off” message to the Iraqi pilot. “No, wait,” came the reply.
At 9:05, the Mirage banked left, toward the warship. At just over 22 miles’ distance, the pilot launched his first Exocet, a sea-skimming, shipkilling missile. The weapon leveled out a dozen feet above the waves, accelerated to nearly the speed of sound, and turned on its radar-homing seeker. Twenty seconds later, another Exocet dropped from a wing and lit off toward the Stark.
The first missile punched through the hull near the port bridge wing, eight feet above the waterline. It bored a flaming hole through berthing spaces, the post office, and the ship’s store, spewing rocket propellant along its path. Burning at 3,500 degrees, the weapon ground to a halt in a corner of the chiefs’ quarters, and failed to explode. The second missile, which hit five feet farther forward, detonated as designed. The fired burned for almost a day, incinerating the crew’s quarters, the radar room, and the combat information center.
About one-quarter of the crew was incapacitated in the attack. Twenty-nine were killed immediately; eight more died later.
Here’s to absent friends, and keeping your powder dry.
Eternal Father, strong to save,
Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,
Who bidd’st the mighty ocean deep,
Its own appointed limits keep.
Oh hear us when we cry to Thee,
For those in peril on the sea!
[...] the net before work, Lex’s post reminded me of the incident that shaped a variety of things in the days afterwards. The things not [...]
“Lest they be forgotten.”
And may they rest in peace. Thank you Lex, for reminding us once again about paying the ultimate price for the protection of freedom – and for what heroes really are.
Lex, thanks for the link to “No Higher Honor.” Your Washington, D.C.-area readers may be interested to know that there is a USS Stark memorial ceremony at 4 p.m. today in Section 60 of Arlington National Cemetery. It’s sponsored by the White House Commission on Remembrance, which has invited me to speak about how the lessons from the Stark helped protect sailors who followed them to the Gulf.
Rest in eternal peace good friends
Kris – you hit it dead on – freedom isn’t free.
I Remember the day well, lost 3 shipmates that day. Went through three gulf cruises in the years after that, sitting SWC in a Spru-can (sea chicken IS NOT an AAW weapon!). I can’t tell you how eerie it feels when A/C go feet-wet in that particular kiddie pool…
One of my best friends from high school died on the Stark. Seaman Brian Clinefelter. He’d just gotten engaged to a mutual friend… I remember going to his memorial service at the USMC chapel in Barstow, CA. He was a good guy that had his life cut short.
Thanks for the remembrance Lex.
Rest in peace, brothers of the sea.
Cap’n
Thanks for a brilliant post. Your vivid descriptions led me back to my own time aboard USS Hawes, FFG53. I remeber walking those passageways during nights in the Gulf, mentally tracing the path those missles tore through my sister ship.
I actually lived in Combat Systems berthing, where most of the sailors were killed. It is a testament to the skill and bravery of the crew of the Stark that their damage control efforts were successful in keeping her afloat. Also a little luck in that only one of the missles’ warheads detonated.
Fair winds and following seas, Brothers. I’ll raise a glass to all absent friends tonight.
Roachman, TM3
Master Helmsman, USS Hawes FFG53 ‘91-92
RIP & Godspeed, Sailors. This U. S. Navy (1952-1955) and U. S. Air Force (1957-1965) veteran sincerely thank each and every one of our military personnel for their service to us all. If you would like to hear an audio version of “The Navy Hymn” click here (633 KB WAV file).
I served on the Oliver Hazard Perry (FFG-7) and this post puts a chill in my spine. All the jokes about being a missile sponge for carrier lost their luster after the Stark….DC drill certainly took on a bit more urgency and the “lessons learned” were eagerly read by the wardroom – if not most of the crew….A few years later the Roberts (which was in Surface Group 4 with us) hit a mine and was probably saved as a result of the DC focus which flowed from the Stark.
What all above said, and Amen. I’ve spilled a small libation in their memory, just now.
I mean: Went outdoors and spilled it on the ground.
May they be avenged.
I worked the repairs to the Stark and I later worked to refit of the Cole.
As ex Navy both were a very hard task.
In both cases the losses were terrible and I have all the best wishes for those fellow sailors who paid the price.
I also wish to commend the crews I saw and dealt with in the aftermath. The spirit they showed in the fix it stages brings credit on them.
I also have walked the areas many times of the missile paths.
Have done many habitability upgrades to the various berthing areas involved.
I had an opportunity to train onboard the USS Ogden while an Instructor at ATG in 93-95. The Damage Control Assistant was LTjg Michael O’Keefe… yeah, THAT O’Keefe, previously HT1 O’Keefe of USS Stark history. The story he was able to tell gave me motivational ammo for other sailors in the form of “I heard it first hand from… “. The lessons learned from Stark, and the stories of the men who saved her made the US Navy DC program the best the world has ever seen. The proof is in the Damage Control History since Stark occurred. Roberts, Tripoli, Princeton, Cole. All share a common bond, that of Damage Control excellence. Don’t give up the ship. Those 37 young men of the Stark gave us that legacy. Michael O’Keefe fought for more than 24 hours to save his ship, and was instrumental in doing so… he didn’t just save the Stark. His hand is on every DC drill and action since then.
Some may argue that the Falklands war was the turning point, and in a small way, it did alter the course of Damage Control. But, until Stark, none of us really thought we were touchable. The Tactical Training Strategy was re-written after Stark, and the entire way we trained was changed. No more REFTRA…
Has it really been that long?
I have written a book that examines the USS Stark attack in detail. The title is Inside the Danger Zone (Naval Institute Press, 2007). The book also looks at the other little-known events of the 1987-1988 Persian Gulf. The website is http://www.insidethedangerzone.com. Thanks