USS Wallace L Lind DD 703 Ship History
This is the story of your ship and some of the things that she has done in the past year. It was written with the hope that it would help you recall some of the more pleasant experiences that you and the ship as a team have been able to perform.
Prepared by:
S. T. Payne,
Ltjg., USNR.
Public Relations Officer
Approved by:
E. B. Carlson,
Cdr., U.S. Navy
Commanding Officer.
You may enjoy or criticize at your discretion the typographical mistakes that appear in this paper.
1949 - 1950
Miles Steamed 42,455 Ammunition Expended 4,025 rounds
Ports visited by the USS Wallace L. LIND (DD703):
Gibraltar New York Malta Baltimore Sardinia Panama Gulfe Juan, France San Diego Trieste (Free Territory) Pearl Harbor Venice, Italy Midway Argostoli, Greece Yokosuka, Japan Naples, Italy Wonson, Korea Algiers, Algeria Shiminoseki, Japan Norfolk Pusan, Korea Vieques Island, Puerto Rico Songjin, Korea New London, Conn. Hungnam, Korea Block Island, Rhode Island And the whole East Korean Coast
1950: The mid-century year that was hailed with so much trumpetry one year ago has past. Let us pause in retrospect and review what has happened to the dear old Wally L. in those 365 eventful days.
First let's go back a little more than a year. Remember the Mediterranean cruise? It started September 6, 1949, when the Wallace L. Lind (DD703) heaved anchor in Norfolk and started the 3,340 mile trek to Gibraltar.
This took 10 days, and she arrived there September 16th. Here she joined the 6th Task Fleet and launched on an intensive period of tactical maneuvers, gunnery practice, and goodwill tours. On September 22, she sailed from Prudential's famous rock and arrived at Malta on the 26th in time to participate in the mock Marine invasion. From Malta on the 26th to Sardinia on the 28th; one day at Sardinia and the wonders of Stromboli before Rosilini fame then, on to Gulfe Juan, France. Only one day of parley vous and 1 October it was Trieste or bust. Trieste for 12 wonderful days! Remember the ship's party in the large hall on the dock, and the famous tenor saxophone solon rendered by none other than E.B. himself? The Grand Hotel? The Palace Square? And of course, some of the more elite places farther up on the hill?
Ah, yes, it was nice, but a travelers blood is never satisfied. It's always move onward in quest of a new thrill, a new sight, a new face, and so on October 17th she crossed the 64 mile gulf to Venice, and the city of romance.
From the land of gondolas, it was a shift to Argostoli, Greece on October 22nd. Two days there and on to Athens by the 28th, having sailed 874 miles since leaving Venice and the pleasures of Mama Diane's.
The Lind stayed 10 days in Pireaus, the port for Athens, and the crew spent their time basking in the cultural atmosphere of historic Athens and the ruins of the past noble Greeks. They climbed the Acropolis, viewed temple ruins, and walked where Aristotle and Plato once walked. Remember the day when the King and Queen came down to the dock to celebrate the unloading of the one millionth bag of ECA flour from America? November 7th she sailed for Toulon, France, and arrived November 14th, steaming a total of 1,054 miles from Athens.
Toulon, and all of the glamour that goes with the famous French Riviera! It was here that she operated with a captured German submarine, and here French orphans were entertained with Thanksgiving dinner. Some of the crew got to make a trip to Paris, and from all reports there were no regrets. But then of course, who could regret a trip to Paree. Cest beau!
From Toulon, it was 604 miles back to Malta, leaving November 28th and arriving at Malta on 3 December. The Wally L. stayed nine days in Malta and then moved on to Augusta, Sicily on December 12th. For five days the crew explored the wonders of Mt. Aetna, Vesuvius and the enchanting Ilse of Capri, then on 17 December she sailed again for Athens, arriving 21 December and steaming 521 miles.
Christmas was celebrated in Athens with many of the crew eating dinner with Americans in the city, and others entertaining Greek orphans with a Christmas dinner aboard ship.
Not one to be caught with her anchor down, the dear ole WLL Steamed out of Athens on December 31st and headed for Naples. New Year's at sea, and from all evidence the Wallace L. Lind (DD703) made a New Year's resolution to put a variety of barnacles on her belly during the oncoming year. After running 666 miles, she put into Naples on January 2nd, stayed for one day and left on January 3rd for Algiers. Algiers was a 581 mile run, and on 6 January she hit port and the sailors hit the Casbah. The mystic charm of a veiled woman, and the potency of native drinks were only restrained by a will to live.
January 12th and it was on to Gibraltar for three days and then, on January 17th she bid Europe farewell and set sail for Norfolk, U.S.A.
It took 9 days to cover the 3,340 miles back to Norfolk. Home port sure looked good. Wives, sweethearts, and families all had to be told of the experiences of Europe, given souvenirs, and of course explained to about that 10 days leave on the Riviera. But the Wally L. was used to traveling and March 1st she got restless and made an 8 day run down to the Caribbean to participate in the PORTREX invasion of Vieques Island, and the crew, God Bless them, had to go 26 days without liberty.
Back to Norfolk for a breather and then in response to the call to colors, the Wally L. steamed bravely up to New York for Armed Forces Day. New York, now there's a port for you, a million places to go and a million things to do. The flash and dazzle of Broadway at night, Times Square, Greenwich Village, Joe King's raskeller down at 17th and 3rd Avenue, Number 1 Fifth Avenue, and of course the old A train. Everything moves fast in New York, and money leads the race. It was a rare boy that cleared that port with more than subway fare, and so it was, back to the Indians and off to Norfolk again as Wistful Wally felt the urge for Virginia waters. The pace slowed for the next month and a half, and the Lind operated in and out of Norfolk, made a run up to New London for one night on June 28th for a little ASW practice, and put into Baltimore for the 4th of July.
The 4th of July parade and holiday celebration over with, the Lind went back to Norfolk and routine until August 14th, and on August 14th, Annie Oaklie Lind won her guns in the famous Bloodsworth shore bombardment exercises. Here, doing skipper and crew proud, she took bullet in barrel and out shot every ship in the squadron. Sometime during these exercises she must have fired the shot heard round the world, because shortly thereafter the message came through that "now is the time for all good ships to come to the aid of their country", and the USS Wallace L. Lind (DD703) was assigned temporary duty with the Pacific Fleet. On September 6th, 1950 she started for the Far East.
First stops were Panama, San Diego and Pearl Harbor. Then came Midway, and on October 6th she docked in Yokosuka, Japan. The 10,349 mile journey to the war zone was over with. For four days the Lind made last minute preparations and repairs, sailors went sightseeing and bought gifts, gazed at the distant splendor of Mt. Fujiyama, and every one speculated on the future. From Yokosuka, she sailed for Tate Yama Wan, Japan, then Sasebo, and finally to Wonsan, Korea. Wonsan was still mined in at this time, and minesweepers were at a premium so that the Lind was given the assignment to return to Shiminoseki and escort five Japanese minesweepers to Wonsan.
No shepard ever tended a flock more faithfully, nor was ever a flock more reluctant to be led, pushed, or pulled than those five in-again, out-again minesweepers, but old sea dog Wally nipped at their fantails until they were safe in the fold of Wonsan.
Taking time out to curtsey for a Well Done from the Admiral, the old gal loaded the surviving patients from a minesweeper that had blown up in Wonsan and run south to Pusan to place them aboard a hospital ship. Back to Wonsan and it was orders to head north for fire support and blockade patrol duty. Back and forth, up and down, always alert and vigilant; a destroyer doing her duty. That was how the Lind spent the next couple of weeks. It wasn't all bleak and dreary though, remember the day that Mr. Marquardt and a well armed boat braved sea and mines to run a boat load of food into the beach to the shore fire control party, and how it must have surprised the hell out of them when they found the case of beer with the food. Oh yes, and there was the ceremonial presentation of the order of the Tinfoil Star (with six points) as our returning heroes stepped onto the quarter deck. Valiantry and gallantry must be rewarded!
November 6th we sent Davie Jones another mine, and as a reward, or possibly because they were ordered to, the USS Hank came up to relieve us. Bidding goodbye to the faithful islands Nan Do and Yang Do, who throughout our stay didn't move one inch notwithstanding the fact that our Lyle gun was pointed directly at them at least twice, the Jolly Wally headed back to Wonsan to replenish.
From November 7th to the 17th the old fighter graced the harbor of Wonsan and did a little illuminating at night to keep the guerilla troops from infiltrating. Action was kind of slow, so the lighter things of life were taken up such as the beer party we had on the airstrip, the surprise inspection pulled on us by the Commander of Destroyer Group 16, and of course the daily quest for mail. Mail about this time was assuming the characteristics of the famous Harvey, and was becoming extremely invisible. It had been almost six weeks since any sizeable quantity of mail had been received, and the situation was becoming slightly annoying, but being the sturdy boys we were, we lived through it and made our daily treks to the Navy Chief's tent on the air strip hoping that he would toss us a tidbit of the U.S.M. "don't tamper with" stuff, but alas, alack, even with the occasional bribe of a pie and a little hot food it was of no avail and all he could offer was consolation. And speaking of consolation, there was a little item in the harbor by the same name that brings back a few fond memories. "Que bonita"
It was November 18th that we received orders to pick up mail and passengers from the USS Rochester in Songjin and proceed to Sasebo, Japan. Sas say bo and seven days of tender availability alongside the USS DIXIE. November 27th found the revitalized Wally on her way back to Wonsan. Two days in Wonsan and on the 29th we left for Hungnam to relieve the USS Zellars.
The war had taken its infamous reversal and business was picking up. The period from the 1st to the 9th was quiet, but there was a gradual tightening and tenseness enveloping the area, we knew it was only a matter of time until the enemy would be within our gun range. On the 9th we got orders to go on patrol with the USS Massey up north to Songjin. From the 10th to the 15th the Lind and the Massey maintained the blockage on the northern patrol, blew up a railroad bridge and some boxcars, fired on enemy concentrations and inspected sampans.
December 16th the USS Hank relieved us and we went back to Hungnam to give gunfire support for the evacuation. Between December 17th and 24th, the Lind fired over one thousand, five hundred rounds of AAC, and over three hundred rounds of Illumination in protection of the defense perimeter. The old Jolly Wally was versatile, she could play and she could fight. Now she was fighting.
She had become a part of the United Nations naval vessels that were establishing a steel curtain around the shrinking defense perimeter encircling Hungnam. In coordination with the carrier-based air attacks, the pin-point bombardment had made a no-mans-land of the outer edges of the defense arc, as enemy concentrations, read junctions, and vehicular traffic were pounded day and night by her and other naval ships. It was fire and rearm; fire and rearm: Shift to a new position; take up a new target. Support the evacuation. This was her role. A little ship doing a great job. It was only a matter of time, and finally as dawn of December 24th broke cold and clear, and while most of the world began their holiday festivities, a relative quiet tenseness hung over the harbor and defense perimeter of Hungnam, Korea. This was D-Day. The remnant of troops that for days had been methodically effecting their withdrawal into the small semi-circle of protection within the harbor area were to be evacuated.
The great armada of naval ships had been deployed about the harbor like so many chess men to cover the evacuating United States Troops, and long before daylight, in the protection of darkness, all ships not participating in the evacuation had silently moved out of the harbor. The evacuation had been carefully planned and every ship had a specific function to perform, from the mighty battleship Missouri and the huge transports down to the small PF boats and LCM's.
Early in the morning the small landing craft and amphibious boats began hovering about their mother ships making preparations to start the beach to ship evacuations. Overhead carrier-based planes began making attacks on enemy concentrations, the air resounded with boom of the big guns from the cruisers St. Paul and Rochester.
The Lind, Hank, Sperry, Massey, Zellars and other destroyers lying in close to the beach kept up a continuous barrage of fire on strategic points. At about 10 o'clock, the landing craft started the final evacuation. LST's beached and swallowed up large quantities of men and equipment in true Higgins fashion. Tugs stood by to aid where needed. As transports loaded they moved out of the harbor.
A little after noon, things began in earnest. Between 1330 and 1630 the Lind fired five hundred and fifty five rounds of AAC, and that is really kicking them out.
About 1630 the demolition squads had finished blowing the dock facilities and everything else that would be of benefit to the enemy. Now it was time to leave, and one by one the ships fell in line and joined the long procession in the move south.
Old Jolly Wally with burned muzzles and littered decks was third from last to leave, and as she cleared the harbor, Hungnam was nothing but a flaming mass of destruction.
What is past is prologue. The Lind and Hank escorted the Rochester to Sasebo, and like Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, we jingle jangled into that thriving metropolis full of yule tide benevolence and rearing to go in quest of a little Christmas spirit. We moored at 1700. The first liberty party left at 1701. Some one was dragging their feet.
We were given three days availability alongside the USS Jason, but in order not to let things become dull, a new set of orders were sent over every three minutes. We got the three days availability, and on December 29th the Lind moved out to the harbor entrance for ASW patrol. This lasted until the 30th, and then we received orders to escort a group of supply ships to the 7th Fleet. Before rendezvousing and taking the supply ships out, we ran up the coast for a little AA gun fire practice, and the port side AA battery got tired of watching the sleeve chase the plane so they shot it down. (The sleeve that is)
On December 31st with our running partner the Hank, we left the supply ships with the 7th Fleet and headed North for more of that icebox patrol. And so there we were, at 2400 on December 31st when the old year went out and the new came in, patrolling the coast of Korea with no wine, no women, just being good little boys, and as somebody so aptly put it in one of Esquire's choicest items, there was a brisk breeze spilling down those snow robed slopes.
And that is how the USS Wallace L. Lind (DD703) spent the mid-century year.
HAPPY NEW YEAR 1951!
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