One of the things you learn early in the Navy is that fires are fought where you find them – there’s no running away on a ship at sea. They can run the gamut from mundane – a cigarette butt in a trash can – to the catastrophic: The fire aboard the USS Forrestal in 1967 cost us the lives of 134 sailors and gave rise to a training video that every sailor has seen. The thing that always amazed me was the reaction of the topside sailors after the first bomb cooked off – they ran away from the hellish conflagration first before realizing that there was nowhere to go. And then they ran back into the flames. Which is really, really hard to do.
In 2002, I was serving aboard the USS Constellation when a fire broke out in one of the main machinery room spaces. A technician performing routine maintenance on a fuel oil valve failed to ensure that it had been depressurized before breaking a seal, and atomized fuel oil filled a hot space. He escaped before the fire broke out, but two sailors were trapped in a control room whose only exit gave out onto the fire itself. There was only so much oxygen in the space, and hundreds of crewman from the flying squad and back-up damage control parties braved withering heat to stand in the door and beat the fire back. Five minutes was all the hose crews could stand before wilting from heat exhaustion, only to be relieved, recover, and step back into the breach. Because there were guys inside. Because we had to save the ship.
I stood on a darkened bridge listening to the sailors in the control room, listening to the voices of the damage control teams on the hydra. We recovered them safely at last, there were only minor injuries among the fire crews. A good night, all things considered, and the ship steamed westwards still, towards a rendezvous with destiny.
Times change, but the physics do not – on Thursday, the USS George Washington successfully beat back a fire that broke out in the aux spaces and threatened the ship. Hat’s off to those who stood in the door.
Back in the 80′s, the Navy thought that having us yard workers train to fight shipboard fires would be a good thing. So good, that they began shuttling us through NTC Mayport 24 at a time. Back in the day (me being an old fart and all) they used real oil, not the cute gas that won’t choke you and make your toss your cookies.) I got to watch that video, and a couple more. I put out all kinds of fires, and the scary Machinery Space fire they set and have you extinguish. I know just enough about shipboard fires to understand two things. First, I’m extremely careful about hot work aboard ship. I smell ANY kind of smoke, or gas, I drop what I’m doing, and start looking, and don’t stop till I find it. Once it was a propane tank in the dentists shop on the Sara (used to melt gold for dental work). Second, that I will NOT attempt to be the hero. I am not trained to do this (albeit the training well over 20 years ago), these sailors are the experts. And I make sure that all the firewatches I’m responsible for, or doing safety training on, understand that the number one danger to any ship is fire. Scary stuff, real scary. Damned ugly way to die, if it comes to it. Best to not let it get that way.
BZ, GW!
Christ have mercy. Heard of the Forrestal fire but never saw the vid. And apropos to the video narrative there will always be things “done wrong” in these episodes. I knew “onboard” paratroopers who persevered in the C-141 at Pope AFB in 1994 after an F-16 impact on the loaded Starlifter. 20+ paratroopers died and for the survivors/resuers painful is an understatement. I was right down the road (involved in these ops daily) and I can only conclude I wasn’t deemed “up to it” by “Heavenly-HQ”…makes you look hard inward. Where, indeed do we get such men.
It is a never a good thing when an aircraft carrier becomes quiet.
Fire is either waiting for a place to be or is already there.
Usually at zero-dark-thirty.
I was on the GW from 1991 to 1995 (I am a Plankowner) and we had a fire in the starboard aft MOGAS sponson during our first med cruise. Scary time, but on the bright side we did set Zebra in about 5 minutes!
Most of the shipboard fire take place in machinery compartments, that too electrical fire.
There is nothing. Not. One. Thing. That makes the hair on my neck stand up quicker than the sound of fire bells or general quarters, at sea or in port, when I know, as a member of the damage control training team, there aren’t any scheduled drills.
I told my wife, when our kids were young, that if she wanted me to awaken in the middle of the night to the sound of a hungry child, then she should ring a bell in loud succession.
It is interesting, it is early Sunday morning. I woke up and just couldn’t get back to sleep. I decided to jump on the web and see what Lex had going on. I saw this post earlier, but really was in a really quiet mood. I was in the Air Force during Viet Nam. I’ve been all over the place on the map.
There was a friend I knew for 50+ years. He was on the Forrestal, when she had her fire. For that fire, it was bad mix of old age munitions and dampness. The irony is this on 9/11/2001, about 10 disabled vets all decided to go to a local McDonald’s for breakfast. A customer came in, talking to another person, said, “Did you hear? A plane hit the World Trade Center.” You could hear a voice from inside the place, say, “Oh, you mean one of those little ones.” First voice, “No, it was a civilian airliner, A BIG ONE!” Everybody in our group got up squared away our area and went to our individual homes. Many of these guys had sons or daughters in the Military. Others had family in the whole realm of “first responders”. Then you had people who were friends and they were in the construction trades, ironworkers and operating engineers. They wanted to be ready with their families’ approval.
What a day! The Forrestal vet and I have talked many times since that terrible day. As we go through this season, let us not forget those who died on that day, plus the 4000+ from GWoT.
Grumpy
back in 83 I was in Sea Scouts and managed to snag the Flight Deck Fire Fighting Course at Whidbey. As a result of the Forrestal fire (and Oriskany, and Enterprise) everyone deploying on a carrier had to take the course. My buddy’s dad was the fire chief for the air station and got us the slots. Three sixteen year old kids in a real Navy course. It was my first introduction to just how much the military can cram into two days training.
Imagine an Olympic sized pool, but 6 inches deep. Fill with gas, diesel, jet fuel, and light on fire. We attacked it with water, no foam. When I tell folks this story, they always tell me you can’t put out a gas fire with just water. I tell them you can, it just ain’t easy. It’s pretty easy in the open, but working an OBA in a dark space with the heat at some unreal level and smoke blinding you….
Brad, when I did it, my OBA bag got crushed by the hose while I was smack in the middle of the engineering space. Could. Not. Breathe. Since I was the guy at the pointy end of the stick, I couldn’t just drop the nozzle and run. I hooked the the thing with one arm, yanked my mask down, and went back to work. The trainer liked to had kittens when I did this, and I more or less told him, “Us yardbirds work in smoky crap ALL the time…this is just another day at work, so SHUT UP AND LET ME FIGHT THE FIRE!”
He did, I passed, and a month later, the Starke got nailed. End of civilians taking the school, because all sailors had to take it after the Starke.
JFK, mid 90′s. We were at sea in the JAX OPAREA doing CQ on our RAG students. There was a lull in the recovery, about a 5 minute gap, so we were standing on the platform doing what we do best, jawing and giving each other grief. In the midst of our laughter, there was an almost imperceptible thump that we all felt. In our feet.
“What was that?”
It happened again, twice in a row.
On the ship, when they do a fire drill, it is always the same. RING-A-LING-LING-LING, DING “Fire, fire, fire, fire in compartment (wherever they want it to be).” Then they start talking that Damage Control language that most aviators never learn to speak.
This night it was different.
Instead of the normal, bored, monotone that we normally heard during a fire drill, what we heard was a very scared voice shout on the 1MC “CAPTAIN, THIS IS THE DCA. WE HAVE A MAJOR CONFLAGRATION IN THE HANGAR BAY, RECOMMEND YOU SET GENERAL QUARTERS!”
To the DCA’s credit, it was a good call, to the Captain’s credit, it was about 1.2 seconds before they called away GQ.
Turns out, a kid working on one of the flight deck tractors down in the GSE repair shop way up forward in the hangar deck, had unwittingly built a bomb. He dumped a bucket of fuel into a 55 gallon drum. He thought the drum was empty, but didn’t look. It wasn’t. It contained several used, but apparently not completely inert, oxygen generator canisters. To paraphrase our host “Oxygen and petroleum products don’t mix well, do they precious? No they don’t.”
He poured the JP-5 into the drum, put the lid on it, and went to get dinner. Going to dinner saved his life. By the grace of God, the closest person to the drum when it blew was about 100 ft away.
Everything worked as advertised. The sailor in the CONFLAG station in Hangar Bay one immediately hit the fire button. Within a few seconds, the blast doors between bays one and two slammed closed, as did the door for aircraft elevator one. The AFFF sprinklers in the overhead were activated. About the same time the last unprotected sailor was leaving the bay, the first of the at-sea fire party was entering with hoses charged. It was no small fire. They fought it for about 25 minutes. My guys who were working on a plane in bay one told me that you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face.
From where we were, it was interesting but not scary. Ignorance is bliss. The next plane down the chute was one of my E-2s. CATCC was still giving him control. It was surreal, a student pilot behind the boat, at night, and we are going to a no-kidding general quarters. One of the other LSOs picked up the J-Dial phone and tried to call the tower.
“It’s busy!” he shouted.
I got on the radio “Tower, paddles. You want me to take this guy?”
No answer.
He’s at a mile, and CATCC has stopped talking. We later learned that CATCC and the Tower both lost power as part of a planned shutdown in response to the fire. Probably not a good idea.
I’m starting to focus on getting this guy aboard safely, when someone on the platform wisely says, “We ought to send these guys home.” It wasn’t just a good call, it was a great one, as all the radios on the platform also went out.
So I got to do a signal we often talk about, but never do, alternating cut and wave-off lights. That is the signal for aircraft to divert. The Hummer waved off, cleaned up, and started home. Everyone else followed.
Found out later that the bow was covered with men and women in all manner of dress and undress. Seems the forward part of the ship filled with smoke pretty quickly and lots of sleepers up there stumbled to the weather decks in whatever they wore to bed. Friends that were up forward in the ready room said it was pretty much bedlam for the first minute or two, then the training kicked in and the majority, who didn’t loose their minds, took care of the few that did.
My flight deck jerseys and khaki trou smelled like smoke for months…
I was aboard the Ponchatoula (AO-148) when she decided to send a boiler through the stack, Spent a copuple hours down in the after mags relaying temps over the phones to the weps officer-lonely place. Some good men stood in the door on that one.
OF Sailor: hear a couple of kids spent some scary time forward of frame 100 hosing down the bulkhead on the Starke. Both berthings were fully ablaze from the missile strike. Amazing what these young kids will do in a crisis situation. You do what you have to do, because it would leave your shipmates to their fate, and because there’s no where else to go. I can’t honestly say I’d do the same.
Byron,
I had a good friend that was on the Starke at that time. He refused to talk about it other than to say he had to carry pieces of his shipmates to the O.R.
After saying that I understand why he could not talk about something like that.
Thanks for the sea story Lex — I think. Memories and cold sweats.
Somewhere along the line after a real live “no s*&%” GQ I wised up and started sleeping w/ nomex flight suit and boots in the open and ready for a GQ run.
The 1MC still echoes in my mind
“General Quarters! General Quarters!
General Quarters routing is up and forward starboard, down and aft Port.”
crossposted
Nose,
I remember that well. I had just come off the bridge as OOD and had gone down into Wardroom 2 to grab a bite to eat. A few minutes later a fellow poked his head in the door and yelled, “Fire. Get out”, and disappeared. We all kind of looked at each other and I got up and walked out of the Wardroom and walked up the ladder to hanger deck have a look around. Big mistake. As soon as I opened the door I was hit by the black smoke. I closed the door and started heading back towards the bridge just about the same time as the announcements started.
We really did have smoke stem to stern on the ship. All my Sailors had to don their EEBD’s to be able to get out of their berthing and I wasn’t able to get back into my stateroom(O-3 level between cats 1 and 2) for almost 3 days. Somewhere I have pictures of the fire damage. Quick actions on the part of many folks were key in preventing the spread of damage and the relatively rapid extinguishing of the fire.
The type of propogating fire that they had on GW is particularly nasty. Both cableway and ventilation fires are notoriously difficult to fight and spread rapidly. Great job GW in fighting that fire.
-Fellow CVN DCA sends
The first time underway on the CORAL SEA, as a FR, we had 4 of 5 fires and floodings BEFORE we secured from Sea and Anchor. I was wondering what the hell did I get myself into
Also on the CORAL SEA in the late 80, before getting underway supply stuffed a storeroom off of the hangar bay full of bales of rags. Unfortunately, they did so all the way to the ceiling were there were some steam pipes carrying steam to the cats. 850 degree steam. The bales smoldered, and heated and then lit off. The OZ berthing above the storeroom had tiles popping off of the floor, and as soon as we poured water on it it would flash to steam. We also had water being poured on the flight deck since it was starting to warp. Took a loooong looong time to get that sucker out. Basically get guys in there covered with a 12′ applicator, pick up bales on fire, throw them in the hangar bay then hose them over the side.
We had enough real emergencies that we were pretty good at the drills stuff. Lets see, DELTA fire in aircraft part storage, Main Feed Booster Pump Blowing up, 1C fireroom firemain breaking (yard birds put in wrong bolts (no offense Byron)) while boiler lit (secured it in time, and rebricked it before decom), Pump room full of DFM, and these are just the ones I remember.
I still carry scars on my shins from running around with my OBA on all over that ship. And of course we had real knee knockers, not the little ones prevalent now. The good old times…
CLaudio
Claudio, none tanken. My personal opinion of cheap thieving SOBs that use Grade 5 hardware instead of the Monel spec’d should go to a garden spot like Leavenworth or Atlanta. I have zero tolerance for people and companies like that. Me and my company take great pride in knowing that our job is to get your ships ready for war, and not ready to fall apart. Of course, sometimes the girls at NAVSEA can be the ships worst enemies:”No, there aren’t any funds to do that repair correctly, we’re going to issue a design change to let you do it half-assed”. ISYN.
Yooper,
I looked on the interweb for pix of the fire area. I remember some molten metal and such – - if you have pictures, pls post them.
I loved JFK back in those days. Great crew. Great attitude.
Nose
PS Did you hear the “Abandon ship” or is that just a tall tale? I never heard it, but some of my guys swear someone said it.
I never heard that word passed but I know several people that claimed they heard it. I have duty tonight but I’ll look for the pictures tomorrow when I get home.
Interesting side story was that one of the first guys to get agent on the fire was one of the shooters who happened to be close by when it lit off. He charged right in with a hose but without an OBA – a course of action, he later admitted, “was probably not the best of ideas.”
Well I remember the Forrestal film. They also showed the film about the Franklin as well in DC&FF school back in ’73. A friend (loosely speaking – he talked me into the Navy rather than a civilized service like the AF, where my father an Af Msgt wanted me) was detailed to go aboard Forrestal not long after the fire. The descriptions of what he saw can only be described as ghastly.
Later the Forrestal became colloquialy known as the “USS Zippo.” My second ship was tied up at the same pier with Forrestal at Norfolk for a week. There wasn’t a day that went by they had a real fire aboard. I think Yankee Station may have jinxed her.
As someone who suffered an OBA blowout in FF school, all I can say is I’m glad everyone has the Scott bottles now. I hated OBAs with a passion.
As a former R divo, I bet they’re easier to maintain too.
I never heard the Forrestal called the Zippo, but I did hear it called the Forest Fire.
Agree, Kevin. I worked several times on Forrestal and other than paper/rags being set on fire (and immediately put out by us), I don’t remember any fires. I do remember a reall good one, space just forward of #3 elevator, main deck, in a sponson, that was supposed to be done, and was currently full of life jackets, to the gills-like, and some dumb-ass decided that they forgot to weld something on the bulkhead, and heck, it’s just a bit, no problem.
We evac’d the JFK, spent 4 hours on the pier whilst the Navy shoveled out hundreds of life jackets. The contractor that started the fire was told that they were 5 minutes away from being banned from Mayport NS forever.
Back when I was young I thought that my deep sleep would be hard to interrupt if push came to shove as CHENG. Not so. Even to this day I can be roused with somebody whispering the words, “CHENG, we have a little problem.”
On deployment we had fireballs but no actual fires in those 9 months. I lost 25 pounds and learned to get by on not more than 4 hours sleep per day. As a benny? I could do PB4T in 5 minutes and any other meeting in less time.
Extension and revision. I can also wake from sound sleep if somebody nearby says, “daddy”.
I spent 22 years as a DCman, (first HT, but, when the split came, I went DC). From 1980 onward until the push came to fruition we in the community fought to remove OBA’s from ships. When I retired in 2004, they had pretty much gone the way of the dinosour, with most ships having had SCBA’s installed in their repair lockers. Funny, when I instructed at the SD Fire School, we instructors wore civillian fire fighting turnouts, and SCBAs, while the students word rubber rain suits and OBAs. I always appreciated the SCBA so much more after that tour.
Oh, and the Trial By Fire Video? I can probably still recite the whole thing verbatim, as we showed that thing EVERY freaking morning at fire school!
Good on the DCmen, Repair Parties, and Crew aboard GW.
“Sailors to the End. Required reading. Well done story of how it happened, as well as how the crew stood up to the task. Great for those still sailing the seven seas, so as to learn from lessons written in blood. Good reading for those who design/build systems for those who go in harm’s way. Great for managers who have a tendency to go for hasty decisions so as to look good.
Look at the film of Hindenburg going up. And down. You can see everyone start to run away, then the sailors stop, and run back toward the flames. In one account I read, some loud old Chief Boatswain’s Mate was reported to have yelled, “Navy men, stand fast! We’ve got to get those people out of there!”
I served aboard the USS Franklin D. Roosevelt, CVA-42 (68-70). I did FF school in Norfolk. I have to say it is the one time I have been truly afraid. Never had a fire while I was on board thank God. Hats off to those fight the fires.
I did some schooling with Dan Meyer, and his stories of being on the Iowa and doing damage control after the turret explosion. Still gives me goosebumps. That and the rather low tech method of using No. 2 pencils as part of the damage control.
Everybody is DC trained on a submarine. Two very bad words when your on a sub. Fire and flooding. Especially when your in hostile waters or under ICE. Ever have to vaseline your beard and sleep with an EAB for two days?
Forty one years ago, this was no place to be…
A few years after the FID fire, did a bit of sailing with the gent who had been XO of VF-11 at the time. Jovial sort, but you could tell he was wrestling with a heavy burden.
Ironically, his old man had been aboard the Franklin in ’45.
Also, its interesting to note that there is only about a degree of separation between another embarked FID squadron and someone who is most likely going to have a say in fire safey aboard carriers today….
Gee, 32 comments before somebody even hints as to the identity of the pilot of the A-4 initially hit.
Deck spot at the start of the fire.
I have a somewhat tangential question. It seems that there are a number of ‘easy ways’ for an officer to write himself a ticket out of the Navy – running a ship aground et. al. I find myself wondering what the repercussions are for an enlisted sailor who causes an incident like the ones described on the Kennedy and Constellation. I’m sure there’s more than just a pat on the back and chat with “Dad” admonishing him to ‘try a little harder next time’, but, having not served, don’t know what that would consist of.
We we had an incident on the SSN Pintado. On subs the anchor is housed in a compartment forward of the screw. Under the boat and invisible normally. So to lower it you went down to the lower level engine room and there was a station with a dial showing the anchor position. Housed–10 fathoms of chain out and so on.
Anyway to qualify on subs one of the tasks was to raise and lower the anchor. These tasks were ONLY to be done under supervision. And it was known by the nukes that the dial –did not work–
So one weekend, a JG, call him Mister Jones, decided that he would raise and lower the anchor, unsupervised. He lowered it OK but did not raise it leaving about 5 fathoms of chain with anchor attached below the hull. Off he went saying nothing to nobody.
Monday morning arrives, we head out from the sub base in San Diego. Captain rings up all ahead standard, chain slides aft. Steel chain hits bronze, multi-million dollar, high tech, secret screw. Very, very, loud noise. We all think we are about to die, but we don’t. Back come the tugs and back to the pier we go. Captain appears to be upset. XO is very upset.
They flew a new prop down from Mare Island, on a C5A. Got some divers and a very big wrench suspended from one of those battleship cranes and took the nut off the screw about 1/32 of a turn at a time. It took days. They removed the old prop put a new one on and back with the wrench and the crane to tighten the nut.
The only thing that happened to Mr Jones was that the crew would sing ‘Anchors Away’ everytime he came thru the mess. The specualtion was that an enlisted man would have been on his way to Portsmouth. But he probably got a nasty letter.
BK
Scott,
When it comes to those not in command, my experience was that the Navy usually didn’t try too hard to punish those who make honest mistakes. “Technique” mishaps (i.e. momentary bad flying) had a better career survival rate than “Headwork” mishaps (i.e. breaking a rule).
In aviation, we focused more on “why” than on “who”. We allow personnel to tell mishap investigators everything they know without fear of retribution, unless they have broken the law or deliberately caused a mishap. The ultimate goal is to prevent a similar mishap. (ALL MISHAPS ARE PREVENTABLE!)
As far as those in command – they are ultimately responsible for everything that happens in their command. That is a pretty heavy burden.
Nose
I served on the Connie from 1982 to 1985 and I was a Flying Squad member too. I don’t think people realize just how dangerous, how much is at stake and how important being a fireman on board a ship is. I wont bore you with old stories but will tell you after now 21 years as a fireman, the reason I became one was because of those very reasons I mentioned. Our shipboard military people need the best gear and training we can give them.. no different then the pilots jumping off the flightdeck at sea. A job well done to our firemen on board they deserve the respect and they need to know they are appreciated.