Hampton Roads Naval Museum

By Elijah Palmer
Hampton Roads Naval Museum Educator

Although many African Americans had served in the military during World War I, the Navy decreased the number of black Sailors in the years following the Armistice. By the early 1930s, there were not many left. But in 1933, the Navy started accepting new African American recruits into the Mess Attendant School at Norfolk. It should be remembered that other rates were closed to black sailors at this time.

Historical marker on Naval Station Norfolk (image from www.markerhistory.com)

In many ways, the Navy mirrored American society. Segregation and institutional racism towards African American Sailors can be seen by examining the pages of The Norfolk Seabag, the naval station's official newspaper. Much coverage was aimed at new recruits and shared advice, events, and jokes. In this vein, the paper highlighted "honor men" almost every week, sharing names and biographical information (hometown, etc.). Starting in the mid-1930s, most issues included some pictures of the Sailors being mentioned. However, it was not until 1938 that the Seabag mentioned any mess attendant trainees from K-West or B-East. To make matters worse, the paper did not include any pictures of the black Sailors chosen to be honor men, even while the number of pictures of white sailors increased.

While the Seabag did not present pictures of any African American honor men, the editors found it fitting to include this caricature of a mess attendant as decoration for one of the holiday menus. Clearly at least some viewed Sailors of color as only fitting into this stereotype.

The first picture of an African American sailor found in issues of the Seabag from 1934-1942 was on page four of the November 28, 1942 issue. The story that went with it was about a young recruit who had walked 224 miles (over four trips) to enlist after being turned away several times. Although it was a tale of patriotism and perseverance, the writer was also patronizing in the way he overemphasized the young recruit's dialect.

In 1942, the Mess Attendant School was moved from Norfolk. That same year, more ratings were opened up to African American Sailors. Part of this shift was likely influenced by national recognition of two famous graduates of the mess attendant school at Norfolk, Dorie Miller and Leonard Harmon. They were honored for their heroism at Pearl Harbor and Guadalcanal, respectively. Navy ships were later named after both of them.

The Mess Attendant School was an important part of naval history in Norfolk. The slights received from the Seabag were indicative of some of the challenges that black sailors encountered during that era. While the situation for African Americans gradually improved during World War II, there was still segregation and other problems, just as in most of American society. As painful and shameful as some of this history appears, it is crucial that we remember and continue to tell these stories so that we do not forget.

By Elijah Palmer
HRNM Educator

USS Bear was originally built for use as a sealing ship by a commercial shipyard in Scotland. After a decade of service in that venture, Bear was purchased by the US Navy in 1884 as part of a plan to rescue the Greely Expedition in northern Canada. The Greely scientific expedition was run by the Army Signal Corps and had been in the Arctic since 1881. Through a mixture of poor planning, mishaps, and lack of funding, however, by 1884 there was a dire need for rescue of the expedition as the men starved through the fall of 1883 and the first half of 1884. Of course, the extent of this was not known until later, but it was known that Greely's team would definitely need supplies and transport in the summer of 1884.

Ships of the Greely Relief Expedition in Greenland, 1884. Left to Right: USS Alert, USS Bear, and USS Thetis.

The Navy was asked to coordinate a relief mission, which fell under the command of Commander Winfield Schley, who would later command the "Flying Squadron" out of Hampton Roads during the Spanish-American War. Besides Bear, two other ships suitable for the Arctic (due to their reinforced hulls) joined the mission: HMS/USS Alert, on loan from the British, and the recently purchased Thetis. The expedition eventually found the remnants of the Greely Expedition, but only a handful of the original twenty five members survived as starvation had taken its toll. Later investigations found evidence of cannibalism on some of the corpses.

Rescuers and survivors of the Greely Expedition. Commander Winfield Schley is marked "1". First Lieutenant Adolphus Greely is seated next to him (marked as "22") . The other survivors are seated in the foreground.

USS Bear was decommissioned shortly after the successful rescue mission. From 1885-1926, the ship operated in Alaska as a United States Revenue Cutter (until 1915 a separate service from the Coast Guard). During this time, the crew looked for illegal activity, offered assistance and rescue, and even brought reindeer from Siberia to help revitalize herds in Alaska. In the late 1920s, Bear was sold to the city of Oakland, California, and it was renamed Bear of Oakland. A few years later, famed polar explorer Rear Admiral Richard Byrd purchased the ship for use in his Second Antarctic Expedition, which lasted from 1933-1935. The Navy purchased the vessel from Byrd in 1939 and it was commissioned USS Bear (AG 29). Byrd then used the ship again for his third Antarctic mission that same year, which was called the United States Antarctic Service Expedition. Leaving out of Hampton Roads, the expedition spent much time doing scientific work near "Little America" in Antarctica. The team stayed in Antarctica until the spring of 1941, when the the prudent decision was made to evacuate given the global situation.

USS Bear in 1884 (left) and 1939 (right). Note the airplane onboard in the right photograph.

When the United States entered World War II, USS Bear was modernized and used as part of the Northeast Greenland Patrol, as other ships were not available. As the war progressed, the vessel was eventually replaced and was decommissioned in 1944. USS Bear had a remarkably long, useful, and varied life in the period of polar exploration. It is a poignant reminder that ships of all sorts can have a role in the Navy.

By Joseph Judge
Hampton Roads Naval Museum Curator

In honor of women’s history month the artifacts of the month are personal items from Captain Ruth Moeller, USN. Capt. Moeller was an educator and administrator who served the Navy for three decades as “an officer and a lady.”

Items on display this month include uniform items that once belonged to Capt. Moeller such as the Navy Tiara (upper left) as well as commemorative coins and personal decorations. (Photograph by Marta Nelson-Joiner)

Capt. Moeller's personal decorations included the Asiatic-Pacific Campaign Medal, the American Campaign Medal, the World War II Victory Medal, and the National Defense Service Medal (two awards).(Photograph by Marta Nelson-Joiner)

USS Solace (AH-5) in 1943. Solace, the second Navy hospital ship to carry that name, was built in 1927 as the passenger ship SS Iroquois by the Newport News Shipbuilding and Drydock Co., Newport News, Va. The liner was converted into a hospital ship at the Atlantic Basin Iron Works, Brooklyn, N.Y. In March 1942, Solace was ordered to the South Pacific and in the ensuing months shuttled between New Zealand, Australia, New Caledonia, Espiritu Santo, the New Hebrides, and the Fiji Islands, caring for fleet casualties and servicemen wounded in the island campaigns. (Official U.S. Navy Photo)

Capt. Moeller was born in 1916 in Nebraska. In 1939 she was appointed a reserve officer in the Navy Nurse Corps and was called to active duty in March 31, 1942. The young nurse shipped to the South Pacific aboard the hospital ship USS Solace (AH-5). During World War II, she also was stationed at the Naval Hospital in Portsmouth, VA.

The seal of the Navy Nurse Corps from Capt. Moeller's collection. (Photograph by Marta Nelson-Joiner)

In 1947, after further studies at the Medical College of Virginia and other places, she transferred from the Nurse Corps to the Medical Service Corps. Congress established the Medical Service Corps as a staff Corps of the Navy engaged in medical support work. Part of the Corps was the Women’s Specialist Section.

In 1957, she was assigned to the Naval Medical School, Bethesda, as officer in charge of the Physical Therapy Technicians School. She also assumed additional duty as Assistant to the Director, Medical Service Corps for Women Specialist Officers.

It was under the leadership of Captain Moeller, who had become the Assistant for the Women’s Specialist Section in 1962, that the Navy eliminated the word “Women’s’’ from the section’s title thereby making it the “Medical Specialist Section.” In 1965, men actually joined the section.

President Lyndon B. Johnson signs Public Law 90-130. Captain Ruth Moeller is standing third from the left. The Nov. 8, 1967, event opened promotions for women to general and flag ranks, lifted ceilings on other ranks and removed the two-percent ceiling on the number of women allowed on active duty. (Courtesy Women's Memorial)

In 1967, Capt. Moeller was one of the women standing beside President Lyndon Johnson when he signed the law opening general and flag ranks to women. The law also removed the 2% ceiling on the number of women in each service branch.

Capt. Moeller retired on September 1, 1969 as an admired clinician and mentor to junior officers and enlisted corpsmen alike. She passed away in 2014 at 98 years of age, and in accordance with her wishes was buried at sea.

The Civil War gallery of the Hampton Roads Naval Museum (HRNM) has seen its share of changes as artifacts and exhibits rotate in and out, but one of the longest-lasting staples of the Civil War Gallery appears each Friday. Clad in a Union Navy officer’s uniform, a figure gazes out as if from the deck of a blockading ship just off the coast. Occasionally, visitors will sidle up to him and even put their arms around him for photographs, only to jump, scream and run away when the figure begins to move.

“A volunteer with the USS Midway Museum in San Diego once approached me and was amazed that this museum had such a high quality mannequin that people could actually touch,” said J. Huntington “Hunt” Lewis, a person as real as you or I, but someone who magically becomes one with the gallery on the three days a week he volunteers.

“An eight or nine-year-old girl once pointed me out and said, ‘He’s a dead man, but somebody stuffed him.’”

Hunt Lewis pauses for a moment within the Civil War Gallery of the Hampton Roads Naval Museum, in his words, "55 years later and 154 years earlier" than when he first put on a naval uniform as a midshipman. (Photograph by M.C. Farrington)

Originally from Jacksonville, Florida, Lewis has personified the past at HRNM for nearly 22 years. He began by portraying a merchant mariner of Norfolk of the 1820s who could regale visitors of tales of life in Norfolk after the incident between the American frigate Chesapeakeand the British warship Leopard before the War of 1812. Lewis has also traveled to schools throughout the area to give his first-person accounts of life at sea during the age of sail. But as the decades came and went, so did his characters, and about 8 years ago, he settled upon his current persona, Lt. Cmdr. Thomas O. Selfridge, Jr., who was serving aboard the ill-fated sloop-of-war Cumberlandon blockade duty when she was sunk by the Confederate ironclad Virginia.

In addition to his interpretive work as a docent, Lewis has also worked as a volunteer educator for the museum, bringing visitors, in his words, “behind the label plates.” He was one of the first to expose Norfolk’s elementary school children to the popular Blacks in Blue program, which originally highlighted the role of African-Americans in the Union Navy during the Civil War and since has been expanded to encompass all of U.S. Navy history. At the suggestion of HRNM Director Becky Poulliot, he also originated and has authored over 400 installments of the long-running “Moments in Naval History” series that has appeared in the local Navy newspaper The Flagship for the past 15 years.

After a career as a naval officer and then as a contractor overseeing ships’ selected record and technical documentation specialists, Lewis did not set out initially to do anything related to history, or even the Navy, in his retirement. That changed after he saw a flyer calling for volunteers for the Hampton Roads Naval Museum, which was preparing to move from Naval Station Norfolk to a larger venue downtown.

Lewis reckons that he is the last alumnus of over 30 prospective docents who began training at the naval station’s Pennsylvania House, the museum’s former home, in the spring of 1994. Technically, that would make him the last HRNM plank owner among the docents still serving. In order to prepare for their roles at the museum, the first docents had to use maps and descriptions of objects in place of the real thing because the galleries at the museum’s new home within Nauticus, the National Maritime Center, did not yet exist.

It was during those early training sessions he began building a notebook that he carries to this day, filled with information about every vessel, hero, or battle featured in the museum’s collection, although he has fully embraced digital research and rarely leaves his mini-laptop at home. He also maintains a research library of around 400 books at his home to augment the titles carried in the museum’s library, from which he has answered thousands of visitor queries over the years, and in so doing he has cultivated contacts from as far away as Australia.

J. Huntington Lewis, USNA, 1961. (Courtesy Hunt Lewis)

Lewis demurs at the suggestion that over his tenure he has amassed all the answers to any question a student of local naval history could ask, saying instead that his greatest strength lies not in being able to answer any question, but in knowing where to find the answers and “attacking things from an oblique angle.” He credits the formative experiences he had searching for the answers to endless dinnertime questions from upperclassmen during his plebe year at the United States Naval Academy, from which he graduated in 1961, spending hours in libraries scattered about Bancroft Hall.

Lewis has earned “literally a drawer full” of awards, said Tom Dandes, volunteer coordinator for the Hampton Roads Naval Museum, including earning numerous Presidential Volunteer Service Awards, with several of them being earned in a single year. He was recognized as Docent of the Year by VisitNorfolk in 2012, and during HRNM's annual volunteer appreciation dinner on April 14 he will become only the third person to earn the museum's 10,000-hour service award. By comparison, a volunteer becomes eligible for the President’s Lifetime Achievement Award after completing 4,000 hours of service.

Hunt Lewis describes the transformation of the frigate USS Merrimack into the Confederate ironclad Virginia to Trent Johnson and his daughter Jessica, who were visiting from South Dakota. (Photograph by M.C. Farrington)

“I almost become a different person when I am out of the floor,” said Lewis. Socially, I’m rather retiring but on the floor you’d never think it. Call that a matter of confidence.”

“I’ve been having more fun doing this than most anything else I’ve done in my life.”

By Sarah Linden-Brooks
HRNM Curatorial Intern

This image only shows a small sample of the Rau Collection's 75 volumes. (Photograph by Sarah Linden-Brooks)

In 2013 an extensive collection of memorabilia was donated to the museum. The William M. Rau Collection is impressive in its scope and sheer size—over 75 volumes! Destroyers are often overlooked in the narrative of the United States Navy, pushed aside for stories relating to impressive flagships, dwarfed by aircraft carriers, and not as spicy as submarines. The William M. Rau Collection does not succumb to this common practice of overlooking the “Tin Can” Navy. In fact, there are seven volumes filled to the brim with photographs, cancellation stamps and articles which detail the evolution of the humble destroyers of the United States Navy.

The collection chronicles the transition of destroyers from the modest “Torpedo Boat” designs circa the Spanish-American War through DD-997, the final ship classified as a Destroyer (DD) before the transition to Guided Missile Destroyers (DDGs) during the 1970s.

One of the color 8X10-inch photographs that has been scanned from the Rau Collection is of USS Spruance (DD-963), which was in active service from 1975 to 2005.

Highlights from the collection include an early postcard, circa 1900, which shows USS Decatur (DD-5). In spite of her hull number, the Decatur was the first destroyer to be commissioned by the United States. Travelling forward through time the Rau collection contains cancellation stamps from several destroyers in the 1930s. One in particular is worth singling out—USS Dewey (DD-349). The cancellation stamp is dated October 17, 1934, just days after Dewey was commissioned.

Like destroyers themselves, the cancellation stamp is not flashy; the ship, however, is worth pause. The crew of USS Dewey witnessed significant events throughout World War II. She was stationed at Pearl Harbor during the Japanese attack in December of 1941, witnessed the Battle of Midway, and participated in the invasion of Guadalcanal and Battle of Guam. In December 1944, as World War II raged on, Dewey found herself off the coast of the Philippines. It was the last day of Hanukkah and just a week away from Christmas when Dewey (and much of Admiral Halsey’s Third Fleet) found herself in the middle of a raging typhoon. The Farragut-class destroyer certainly proved her seaworthiness during this storm. She lost all power, had her number one smokestack torn off, and was rolling wildly side-to-side, reporting rolls of more than 75 degrees! The men of Dewey could count their blessings following the storm: while hit with severe seasickness, the ship survived. That same storm, known as Typhoon Cobra, caused two of her sister ships, USS Hull and USS Monaghan, to founder and sink.

It is stories like this that William M. Rau’s Collection brings to the forefront of history. One quickly sees that rather unassuming images and artifacts reveal interesting narratives that might otherwise be overlooked. The collection was donated to the Hampton Roads Naval Museum in 2013 by his children: William Rau III as well as Richard and Katherine Ellis.

As part of a grant-funded project, the Hampton Roads Naval Museum is involved in an ongoing effort to assess the Rau Collection and add a portion of it to the eMediaVA platform, a statewide digital media distribution system free to Virginia's teachers and students. It is backed by the generous support of Virginia Public Media Stations such as WHRO in Norfolk, as well as the Public Broadcasting Service.

By Elijah Palmer
Hampton Roads Naval Museum Educator

Period cartoon of imperial powers carving up China. Notice Japan's inclusion after the Sino-Japanese War.

During the late 19th century, China was undergoing massive change. Western imperial powers had forced trade concessions from the Chinese and had influence in many areas. In addition, the Chinese were defeated by the recently modernized Japanese military in the 1894-95 Sino-Japanese War, which forced more concessions from the Chinese government. This caused high levels of resentment and fostered a radical peasant movement in the late 1890s called the "Society of Righteous and Harmonious Fists," more commonly called the "Boxers." The goal of this group was to rid China from what they viewed as the corrupting influence of the West, both economically and religiously. They were also fiercely anti-Christian. This hatred was borne out in their targets as the Boxers started in 1898 and 1899 by attacking not only missionaries but also Chinese Christians, who indeed suffered far greater numbers of casualties than foreigners.

Illustration of a Boxer from the San Francisco Call, July 1 1900. Note the added weaponry to emphasize the Boxers' threat.

Two Boxers, from the San Francisco Call. It is entirely possible that this photo was staged in a studio in San Francisco using Chinese immigrants, as it was published at the height of the Boxer Rebellion.

By 1900, the Boxers were rapidly gaining support and momentum, causing many foreigners and Chinese Christians to flee to safer areas. As the Chinese empress was ambivalent to the Boxers, the Western nations (and Japan) had increased their military presence on the coast. Many refugees ended up in Peking (modern day Beijing) by early summer. On May 31, 1900, a total of 50 Marines from USS Newark and USS Oregon were dispatched to Peking, along with five Sailors and a Navy surgeon. This force was assigned to protect the American legation. Other nations similarly sent troops to protect their own legations, swelling the international military force to over 400. Soon the Boxers had cut off Peking and were attacking foreign property in the city.

Sailors and a Marine with an 1895 Colt Machine Gun during the Boxer Rebellion. Gunner's Mate 1st Class Joseph Mitchell might be one of the Sailors shown here.

Luella Miner, a professor who normally worked in the suburbs of the city, said that on the night of June 15, she heard a great crowd shouting "Kill the foreign devils! Kill the secondary (Christian) devils! Kill! Kill! Kill!" for hours.* This yell was the war cry for the Boxers and those in the foreign legations would soon hear it repeated many times over. The Chinese government finally chose a side when the empress dowager supported the Boxers and declared war on the foreign powers on June 20. This fact was punctuated by the killing of the German foreign minister by Chinese soldiers on that day.

"The Dragon's Choice": A cartoon printed before the empress dowager had decided to support the Boxers.

The foreign legations in Peking were from eight nations: Great Britain, France, Russia, Austria, Italy, Germany, Japan, and the United States. The legation staff, foreign residents, troops, and many Chinese Christians squeezed into a limited area, put up barricades on the street, and hunkered down while waiting for relief. They faced daily attacks and harassment, including having to avoid snipers and artillery. US Marine Corps Captain John T. Meyers bravely commanded the American forces throughout the siege. He had nothing but praises for the Sailors under his command, specifically:

"Gunner's Mate (First Class) Joseph Mitchell, U.S.S. Newark, who operated the Colt gun with the utmost courage and skill under the heaviest fire; he also, with the assistance of Mr. Squiers, put in working order and later used successfully an old brass cannon which had been dug up inside our lines; he also captured a flag under peculiarly hazardous circumstances, on which I will later make a special report. Hospital Apprentice R.H. Stanley, of the Newark, who volunteered and took a message to the English legation when it was necessary to use the street down which the Chinese were firing."**

He also commended Assistant Surgeon T.M. Lippitt (also from USS Newark) for going beyond his typical duties and helping with the defense of the legation.

Soldiers of the eight nations.

The Boxers besieged the legations for nearly two months while international forces tried to get to Peking. The first relief attempt made by a force of 2,100 Sailors and Marines was thwarted in late June. Throughout the summer, more troops were sent by various nations, including Sailors and Marines from USS Nashville and USS Brooklyn. Before the Peking legations could be relieved, the foreign army had to capture the city of Tientsin, southeast of Peking, itself a bloody battle. It was not until early August that a larger force of 20,000 men (including 2,000 American Soldiers, Marines, and Sailors) marched for Peking. The legations were rescued when the city was taken on August 14, 1900. A happy Ms. Miner reported, "All that afternoon the troops came streaming in, Sikhs, Bengal Lancers; English soldiers, and, most welcome of all, our American boys."***

The Boxer movement was put down by the next year and the Chinese were required to pay reparations to the various foreign nations. The weakening of Chinese power set the stage for the nationalist movement and the collapse of the Qing dynasty a few short years later. In a unique gesture, the United States used part of its share of reparation money to build Tsinghua College (now university) and created a scholarship fund for Chinese students to study in the United States, which lasted until the Japanese invaded China in 1937.

* From Luella Miner, "A Prisoner in Peking,"Outlook (Nov. 1900). Captain Meyers also makes note of the shouting that night in his report.
** From "Peking: Report of Captain John T. Meyers." Available on the Naval History and Heritage Command website.
*** Miner, "A Prisoner in Peking."

By Joseph Miechle
Hampton Roads Naval Museum Educator

Editor's Note: The following post was to have been released as a personality feature about Welland T. "Doc" Shoop, who was to receive an award for 12,000 hours of volunteer service, more than any in the Hampton Roads Naval Museum's history, during the HRNM Volunteer Appreciation Dinner on April 14. Sadly, he became ill on March 30 as he was preparing for his normal volunteer duties aboard USS Wisconsin and passed away the following day.

The Hampton Roads Naval Museum is fortunate to have a dedicated team of docents who enthusiastically represent the museum. One of the most dedicated was the venerated Welland T. Shoop, or “Doc,” as he was most often called. He had always wanted to join the Navy and spoke to a recruiter in December, 1941. The recruiter advised him to come back after Christmas because it would be a long time before he would be able to spend another with his family. Doc took his advice and enlisted on December 26, 1941, beginning what would become a naval career spanning 33 years.

As a Pharmacist's Mate 1st Class temporarily assigned to USS Wisconsin (BB-64) in 1947, Welland "Doc" Shoop would have expanded and converted one of the battleship's wardroom tables into an operating table during an attack or after an accident. Thankfully he never had to during an actual emergency, but Shoop showed that until the end, he and his equipment were still ready if need be. Sadly, he passed away on April 1. (Photograph taken in March 2016 by M.C. Farrington)

Volunteer service for Doc began in 2002 with the battleship Wisconsin here in Norfolk, VA. Doc was initially unaware that the ship had been berthed next to the Nauticus National Maritime Center (also home to the Hampton Roads Naval Museum) and when he found out, came down for a visit. He found out from the museum's volunteer coordinator, Tom Dandes, about the many opportunities for docents aboard the ship and once again volunteered for naval service aboard USS Wisconsin.

It was in fact not his first tour aboard the storied ship. Doc Shoop first sailed aboard USS Wisconsin as a reservist on a “summer cruise” in 1947 when the ship left New Jersey for the Caribbean. He learned some important lessons very quickly on that cruise. He was the senior person left in charge of the sick bay one night when the medical doctors went ashore for liberty. The shore patrol brought aboard a Sailor who had been injured ashore while on liberty and required stitches to close a wound. Doc administered anesthesia and proceeded to sew up the wound with the help of another petty officer and knowledge he had gained from his studies. Nobody involved spoke of the incident for the remainder of the cruise.

USS Ault (DD-698) photographed during the mid-1950s. Shoop picked up his moniker "Doc" as an independent duty corpsman aboard the destroyer from May 1953 to September 1955. (Naval History and Heritage Command Image)

Doc Shoop also saw service aboard a wooden hulled minesweeper in the Great Lakes and aboard the destroyer USS Ault as a chief petty officer when he made an “around the world” cruise. He was aboard the latter ship when it collided with the destroyer USS Haynsworth off the coast of Japan during training maneuvers.

Welland "Doc" Shoop's personal decorations from World War II as well as the wars in Korea and Vietnam include an Air Medal earned during his service at Naval Support Activity DaNang, Republic of Vietnam, where he led aerial spraying missions to mitigate the numbers of mosquitoes plaguing troops on the ground.

Doc also saw service in Vietnam when he was assigned there and took over the job of mosquito abatement. This underrated job saw that the sailors and soldiers operating in the jungles of Vietnam would not be effected by diseases such as malaria carried by these insects.

Doc was then assigned as the administrative officer at Preventive Maintenance Unit 2 in Norfolk Virginia and later was assigned to the Naval Supply Center and identified some deficiencies which he quickly rectified. He was approaching his 30 year mark and the Admiral in charge of him encouraged him to stay Navy for another five years. Doc declined as he disliked Adm. Elmo Zumwalt and his new leadership style. He retired from active duty in 1974. He retired a second time from the City of Portsmouth at the age of 65 after working in public safety.

The jobs aboard USS Wisconsin changed a bit for Doc over the years. His vision was not what it used to be and this made it a bit more difficult for him to maneuver in his old ship, but he still happily assisted the Nauticus staff members with tours inside and stood watches when asked. In April of 2016 Welland “Doc” Shoop was to be presented with an award for more than 12,000 hours of dedicated service to the museum. This is more than any other docent or volunteer. He has also been awarded a Lifetime Achievement Award for the President's Call to Service program. When asked about this impressive accomplishment, always humble, he replied, “All in a day's work."

Addendum:

The majority of information in the above article was gained from an interview conducted with Doc on March 23, 2016. On March 30 as Doc faithfully prepared to report for duty aboard Wisconsin, he fell ill and subsequently passed away on April 1. The museum has lost one of its most valuable and irreplaceable assets in the death of Doc Shoop, as well as a dear friend. He will be missed by all who knew him.

Petty Officer 1^st Class Joshua Stanley salutes as the casket of retired Navy Chief Warrant Officer Welland “Doc” Shoop, the Hampton Roads Naval Museum’s longest-serving docent in terms of hours served, is removed from a hearse by members of the Commander, Navy Region Mid-Atlantic (CNRMA) Honor Guard at Woodlawn Memorial Gardens in Norfolk, VA, on April 6, 2016. Shoop was almost a daily fixture aboard the museum ship USS Wisconsin in downtown Norfolk since he began volunteering at the museum in 2002. Shoop, who was 94, first experienced the life of a battleship Sailor aboard Wisconsinin 1947. He was to receive an award on April 14 for the 12,000 hours of service he has contributed since becoming a docent at the museum in 2002, the most by any docent in the museum’s history. (Photograph by M.C. Farrington)

From HRNM Director Becky Poulliot:

Two years ago, Doc reached the pinnacle of HRNM Volunteer Success--the 10,000 Hour Award. He was honored during the annual volunteer dinner with a shadowbox containing mementos of his service to the museum and to the battleship. In typical fashion, Doc was humble about his accomplishments, yet truly touched and grateful for the acknowledgements and the present.

Doc was a happy man. He could do many things to promote the cause of naval history, and do them well. He was the type of person that you wanted to be around-you could learn from him, and it was fun. Doc set a high bar for himself--when he suffered a stroke some years back, most thought he would never recover. But not only did he recover, he continued to thrive! He returned triumphantly to the next volunteer dinner, wheeled in by his son, to the sound of applause. Doc promised that he would be out of that wheelchair and return back to his museum watch. He kept that promise.

Members of the Commander, Navy Region Mid-Atlantic (CNRMA) Honor Guard carry Welland “Doc” Shoop to his final resting place at Woodlawn Memorial Gardens in Norfolk, VA, on Wednesday, April 6, 2016, followed by family and friends. The World War II and Vietnam War veteran and retired navy chief warrant officer was the Hampton Roads Naval Museum’s longest-serving docent by number of hours served. He was to receive an award on April 14 for the 12,000 hours of service he has contributed since becoming a docent at the museum in 2002. All told, Shoop accrued over 12,200 hours during his time as a docent, the most by any volunteer in the museum’s history, mainly aboard the battleship Wisconsin in downtown Norfolk where he first served as a Navy Pharmacist’s Mate in 1947. (Photograph by M.C. Farrington)

At this year's volunteer dinner, there will be an empty seat--but knowing that Doc lives on in memories and in the instruction he gave each of us, makes his legacy the ultimate triumph. Fair winds and following seas, shipmate.

Construction Electrician 2nd Class Gabriel James, Yeoman 2nd Class David Baxter, and Aviation Machinist's Mate Airman Christopher Torres fire a salute during the memorial service for retired CWO4 Welland "Doc" Shoop at Woodlawn Memorial Gardens in Norfolk, VA, as Boatswain's Mate Seaman Cardell Mason looks on. (Photograph by M.C. Farrington)

Electrician's Mate 1^st Class Joshua Stanley of the Commander, Navy Region Mid-Atlantic (CNRMA) Honor Guard presents the flag that draped the casket of Welland “Doc” shoop to his son David T. Shoop as other assembled family members and friends look on as military honors are rendered on April 6, 2016 at Woodlawn Memorial Gardens in Norfolk, VA. Shoop, a retired Navy warrant officer and veteran of both World War II and the Vietnam War, was to receive an award on April 14 for the 12,000 hours of service he has contributed since becoming a docent at the Hampton Roads Naval Museum in 2002. All told, Shoop accrued over 12,200 hours during his time as a docent, mainly aboard the battleship Wisconsin in downtown Norfolk, where he first served as a Navy Pharmacist’s Mate in 1947. (Photograph by M.C. Farrington)

By Jerome Kirkland

Hampton Roads Naval Museum Educator

In 1917, the U.S. Navy acquired the land that had been developed for the 1907 “Jamestown Ter-centennial Exposition” at Sewells point, just north of Norfolk, Virginia. This land, and many of the buildings that came with it, including numerous private homes, would become the Norfolk Naval Operating Base. Nearly 100 years later, a set of books discovered in the attic of one of these homes would shed light on the comings and goings of some of the most influential figures in naval history, from 1918 to 1941.

Photograph by M.C. Farrington

The Jamestown Exposition of 1907 was held to celebrate the 300 year anniversary of the founding of the Jamestown settlement in 1607. It was held in Norfolk due to its more centralized location and the deep water ports that would allow the modern ships of the Navy’s all steel fleet to shine among those of other nations gathered for an International Naval Review on opening day, April 26. About two weeks after the exposition’s conclusion on November 30, the “Great White Fleet” set sail for its historic around the world voyage.

The planners of the exposition had high hopes for this “worlds fair” type event, but they never realized those hopes. After the exposition’s seven-month run, many of the buildings fell into disrepair. Developers tried to make the area a profitable venture without much luck until the U.S. Navy stepped in, saving many of the buildings that were left. Many of the so-called "State Homes" were privately owned and escaped the fate that befell many of the exposition buildings, many of which simply ceased to exist. These were converted to house senior officers and their families.

Photograph by M.C. Farrington

Jump forward 96 years, to 2013, and a set of books would be discovered in the attic of one of these state houses that would document the comings and goings of naval officers from 1918 to 1941, some of them quite famous. A representative of Lincoln Military Housing, the contractor that oversees housing for naval personnel for the base, discovered two books in the attic of the Ohio House. She turned them over to Mrs. Sissy Cutchen, resident of the Maryland House and wife of Rear Admiral Bryan Cutchen, who in turn turned them over to the Hampton Roads Naval Museum.

Exhibits Specialist Marta Joiner competes the finishing touches on the latest Artifact of the Month display. (Photograph by M.C. Farrington)

One of the notable entries found included “Capt. E. King” occupying the “Commanding Officer Naval Air Station” residence (formally the Connecticut House), from May 4^th 1928 to September 30^th1930. Captain E. King would go on to become Fleet Admiral Ernest King. King started out serving on board USS San Francisco during the Spanish American War, while still enrolled in the Naval Academy. He went on to command submarines before transferring to naval aviation, becoming a pilot and commanding officer of the aircraft carrier USS Lexington in 1930.

Fleet Admiral Ernest J. King. (Wikimedia Commons)

Admiral King’s career almost ended in 1939 with a posting to the General Board but was saved when Chief of Naval Operations (CNO) Adm. Harold R. Stark appointed King Commander-in-chief, Atlantic Fleet in 1940. A little over a year later, when the U.S. entered WWII, Adm. King was promoted to Commander-in-Chief United States Fleet (COMINCH). Less than three months later, King was chosen to replace Stark as CNO, while still holding the post of COMINCH, making King the only person to hold the posts of CNO and COMINCH at the same time.

Despite reaching the “mandatory retirement age” of 62 in November of 1942, King would stay another three years, seeing the U.S. Navy through the war. Admiral King was so well respected that even after his retirement in 1945, and several years of bad health, he was recalled in 1950 as an advisor to Secretary of the Navy Francis P. Matthews.

Photograph by M.C. Farrington

The occupancy log books contain many other famous names, such as: Admiral George Murray who commanded USS Enterprise during the famous Doolittle Raid on Tokyo and during the Battle of Midway; Adm. William Parsons, who helped develop the atomic bomb and flew in the “Enola Gay” to arm the bomb after successful takeoff; and Adm. Robert Coontz, executive officer of USS Nebraska during the “Great White Fleet” tour of 1907-1909. He became CNO in 1925 and a powerful advocate for naval aviation, leading the charge to have the battle cruisers Lexingtonand Saratoga converted to aircraft carriers. Another notable former resident was Adm. Joseph Taussig, who served from the Spanish American War to WWII, receiving major wounds while leading land action during the Boxer Rebellion in China, commanded Norfolk Navy Yard like his father before him, and was forced to retire in 1941 only to be called back in 1943. Even Naval Aviator #1, Captain Theodore Ellyson, who was taught to fly by Glenn Curtiss, appears within their pages.

A chance find in 2013, now in the collection of the Hampton Roads Naval Museum, has helped illuminate some of the important roles Naval Station Norfolk has played in history by documenting the comings and goings of some of the most respected and influential figures in naval history.

By Diana Gordon
Hampton Roads Naval Museum Educator

This vibrant painting by Maizelle Brown hangs in our World War II gallery. The artist, a Hampton Roads local and lifelong Norfolk resident, often illustrates African-American history and culture in her artwork. This particular piece, Liberty, portrays visual information about the struggles of those facing segregation in our local area during World War II. Maizelle uses a thicker acrylic paint as her medium to express African-American experiences on Church Street, one of busy areas in segregated Norfolk. Church Street was where much of the African-American community's shopping, entertainment, and restaurants were located during the war years. This was the only area locally where African-American Sailors could enjoy the night life of Norfolk.

Brown's choice of acrylic paint and use of lines expresses the wonders of a night out on-the-town. The rich bolder tones of the paint give the mood of an exciting nightlife: lights, movement, bustle, and action. The vibrant colors of yellow, green, blue, and even white add to the excitement. The acrylic paint allows for less defined lines and quicker brush strokes which gives the appearance of activity and movement. Church Street is illustrated as teeming with civilians and Sailors. The artist strategically forms lines, leading the viewer's eyes from the crisp faces in the foreground to the less distinct movements of people in the background. In addition, the lines of the buildings frame the blurred motion of those disappearing from the scene into the night.

Although the artist paints a bold and colorful painting about night life on Church Street, she also includes a darker part of local history: segregation. Segregation practices grew even with the increase of African-Americans in the military. The number of black Sailors increased drastically during World War II, thanks to the expanding roles made available for African Americans in the armed services. Prior to the war, black sailors were limited to being mess attendants. It took pressure from organizations such as the NAACP to lead President Franklin Roosevelt to pledge that blacks could enlist in the military according to the percentage of their population. Although the true percentage was never actually met, numbers of African-American service members grew drastically across all military branches.

African-Americans enjoying some night life. The man dancing is a Steward 1st Class. (Courtesy of the Sargeant Memorial Collection, Slover Library, Norfolk VA)

The artwork might seem energetic due to the medium and color choice, but a second look will express the segregation issue faced by many cities around the country during this time. The piece highlights that even during wartime, when the nation was united against common enemies, it was still divided by racial issues. Progress had been made, but there was still work to do.

By Elijah Palmer& Joseph Miechle
Hampton Roads Naval Museum Educators

A short time ago, while researching a different project, a colleague ran into an interesting vignette which mentioned CSS Virginia several days after the Battle of Hampton Roads. Our interest was piqued by an assertion made within the March 12, 1862 Richmond Dispatch article seen below:

"The Virginia, it is intimated, while up here, has changed her forward and aft pivot guns for two of the celebrated Armstrong guns, which lately found their way into this vicinity."

This statement quickly raised many questions. But first, what was so special about Armstrong guns to make them "celebrated?" Early Armstrong cannon from the mid-1850s were a unique British design that was breech-loading. As was popular technology at the time, there were bands on the breech to reinforce the cannon when it fired, as sometimes the guns burst (as happened onboard USS Princetonin 1843). These guns had an advantage over muzzle loading, smooth-bore cannon as they had a higher rate of fire, greater accuracy, and longer range. By the time of the Civil War, there were naval variants of the Armstrong guns, as can be seen on HMS Warrior. Clearly these cannon were seen as advanced technology, most likely due to the aforementioned advantages.

We knew that the Confederates could have been well aware of Armstrong guns, but the real question was whether it was even possible for the South to have acquired them. Could some of these new cannon have made their way through the blockade to Norfolk? Could these guns have done more damage to the Monitor in a future fight? And if this article were true, why had we not heard of this before? If it was not true, was this an honest mistake or was it propaganda building on the events of the Battle of Hampton Roads? To add to our uncertainty was a report from one of the postwar salvage operations of the wreck of CSS Virginia which mentioned a "large Confederate banded rifled gun."

Could this have been an Armstrong? Or was it a Brooke gun? From The Daily Journal (Wilmington, NC), June 23, 1867. Special thanks to Dr. Anna Holloway for providing this article.

Any new guns would have had to come through the blockade, which was an unlikely possibility. Was there a chance that any Armstrong cannon were at Gosport Navy Yard when it was captured? An examination of the list of guns captured and their disposition quickly put that theory to rest. Strike one! If somehow they had made it through the blockade and been put on the Confederate ironclad, it would not have made much of a difference in a future fight against USS Monitor. Tests from the time showed that, owing to the relatively small gunpowder charge necessary, the Armstrong shell could not penetrate much iron. This would have been especially true of the Monitor's turret, which was protected by 8-inch-thick iron plating. Strike two! But this knowledge was likely not widespread at the time, so reports of the "celebrated Armstrong guns" would have still carried weight.

So could the newspaper report have been an honest mistake? CSS Virginia did replace damaged cannons after the battle, but it seems to be a stretch that someone could have mistaken these guns for the other. While a later triple-banded variant of the Brooke rifle might be confused at first glance, the rounder edges of the Armstrong seem to be quite unique and the Brooke gun was not produced until months after the article. Adding to this doubt was the fact that no Armstrong guns should have been available for purchase. The inventor of the Brooke gun, John Mercer Brooke (also one of the designers of CSS Virginia) wrote in a July 1862 letter that the Confederates did not have any breech-loading guns (alluding to the Armstrong). He continued that "their manufacture is confined to the government shops of England." Strike three!

An illustration of a single banded Brooke rifle.

A double-banded Brooke rifle mounted on fortifications. (Photo by Joseph Miechle)

Judging from the inspirational language in rest of the paragraph from the Richmond Dispatch, it appears likely that this was a propaganda piece. Considering that the Armstrong gun was only manufactured in Great Britain, could this have been a trick to show Northern (& Southern) readers that the Confederacy had British support? Indeed, as a New York Times article discussed after the fall of Fort Fisher in January 1865, there were questions about how a large Armstrong cannon was in Confederate possession when the "English Government claims the exclusive right to use [them]."** While the Times writer went on to lay the blame directly on Armstrong himself, he also said that an investigation was needed to fully lay the matter to rest. If there were still questions near the end of the war, how much more so before the Emancipation Proclamation or the Union victories in July 1863? At the very least, the guns were known as new technology, so any Southern reader would likely be excited, while a Northern reader would possibly be dismayed.

In the end, our research put a quick death to some tantalizing possibilities. While perhaps we did not make any significant new discoveries to add to the historiography, we did come away from the experience both more knowledgeable and perhaps a bit wiser. Sometimes the fun of researching history is all about the hunt.

* Letter from John M. Brooke to Stephen Mallory, July 16, 1862, in Ironclads and Big Guns of the Confederacy: The Journal and Letters of John M. Brooke, ed. George M. Brooke, Jr. (Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press, 2002), 102.
**"Armstrong Gun at Fort Fisher."New York Times, January 29, 1865.

By Katherine A. Renfrew
Hampton Roads Naval Museum Registrar

Essential to the art of shipbuilding, maintenance and repairs is the dry dock. As a rule, these narrow basins are constructed of earthen berms and concrete. A gate or caisson located at the end of the basin facilitates the flow of water, allowing the vessel to float when the basin is filled or supported on blocks when the basin is drained. While the vessel rests on the blocks, inspections and repairs can be freely made to the normally submerged hull. Afterwards, the vessel can be gently refloated as the water re-enters the basin.

The mark of a true and proper shipyard is its ability to perform dry-docking, and Hampton Roads has the honor of being home to the Norfolk Naval Shipyard. The facility is the oldest and largest shipyard belonging to the U.S. Navy and is located on the southern branch of the Elizabeth River in the City of Portsmouth. There are seven fully functional dry docks at the shipyard, with Dry Dock No. 1 being the most significant. The dry docks are numbered one through eight, but there are actually only seven. Dry Dock No. 5 was originally meant to be a mirror image of Dry Dock No. 4., but it was never constructed. Instead, the land was used for other purposes. These historic gems are not only significant for their inherent historic qualities and showcasing of naval technology, but for their continued service to our country and Navy.

Following is a diagram and early images of the dry docks at Norfolk Naval Shipyard.

This diagram shows the location of the seven dry docks and their accompanying cranes at Norfolk Naval Shipyard. Taken from the Unified Facilities Criteria (UFC) – Dry docking Facilities Characteristics report Number UFC 4-213-12 dated June 19, 2003.

DRY DOCK NO. 1

The most well-known and historically significant of the shipyard’s dry docks is Dry Dock No. 1. Construction commenced on December 1, 1827 and was completed on June 17, 1833, the day USS Delaware, the first ship to be dry-docked in America, entered the dry dock. Nearly 30 years later, the steam frigate USS Merrimac entered the dry dock on May 30, 1861. After the shipyard, then known as the Gosport Yard, was taken over by Confederate forces during the Civil War, Merrimac was reconstructed there as the ironclad CSS Virginia. Dry Dock No. 1 is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

Three unknown vessels (possibly torpedo boats) in Dry Dock No. 1, February 18, 1908. (National Archives and Records Administration NNSY-1908_01 /RG 71-CA, Box 333, Folder B)

Photo taken from bottom of dock revealing inscriptions carved in the stone for the centennial commemoration of the Drydock in 1933.(National Archives and Records Administration NNSY-1933_01 /RG 71-CA, Box 333, Folder B)

DRY DOCK NO. 2

Dry Dock No. 2 opened on September 19, 1889 and was originally built of timber. In 1933, it was modernized and rebuilt of concrete.

The submarines Severn, Snapper, Tarpon, Salmon& Stingray as well as another unidentified vessel in Dry Dock No. 2, February21, 1911. (National Archives and Records Administration,NNSY-1911_02/RG 71-CA, Box 339, Folder D)

DRY DOCK NO. 3

Dry Dock No. 3 opened December 8, 1908 with the docking of the armored cruiser North Carolina (CA-12). During 1910-11 the dock was extended from its 550-foot length to its present length of 726 feet.

Dry Dock No. 3 under construction, February 3, 1904 (National Archives and Records Administration, NNSY-1904_01/RG 71-CA, Box 333, Folder D)

USS North Carolina (CA-12) in Dry Dock No. 3, December 9, 1908. (National Archives and Records Administration, NNSY-1908_02/RG 71-CA, Box 333, Folder D)

DRY DOCK NO. 4

The U.S. fleet’s newest battleships were longer than the current dry docks in the early 1900s. The Navy’s desire to retain its ability to maintain its ships created a need for a larger dry dock. The answer was Dry Dock No. 4, the largest structure to date at that time. It opened on April 1, 1919. Its length was 1,011 feet, 10 inches. It was 144 feet wide, and was 51feet deep.

USS Nevada (BB-36) in Dry Dock No. 3 and USS Wisconsin (BB-9) in Dry Dock No. 4 on May 9, 1919. (National Archives and Records Administration, NNSY-1919_09/RG 71-CA, Box 339, Folder D)

Dry Docks 3 and 4, looking east, March 29, 1935.(National Archives and Records Administration, NNSY-1935_0 /RG 71-CA, Box 334, Folder A)

DRY DOCKS NOS. 6 & 7

Both dry docks were built, it seems, as a pair. They are 465 feet, 9 inches and 465 feet, 8 inches in length, respectively. Both opened on October 31, 1919.

Dry Dock No. 6 (top) looking southeast and Dry Dock No. 7 (above), before and during the opening ceremony, October 31, 1919. (National Archives and Records Administration, NNSY-1919_03 & NNSY-1919_04/RG 71-CA, Box 334, Folder D)

DRY DOCK NO. 8

Dry Dock No. 8 has the distinction of being the largest at the shipyard, measuring 1,092 feet, 5 inches long, with a depth of 47 feet, 11 inches. The battleship Kentucky’s keel was laid on March 7, 1942. The official opening of the dry dock, however, took place in July, 1942.

Both images show Dry Dock No. 8 under construction, looking south, August 14, 1941 (top) and December 15, 1941 (above). (National Archives and Records Administration, NNSY-1941_03 & NNSY-194_-04/RG 71-CA, Box 334, Folder B&A)

This brief history of the Norfolk Naval Shipyard’s dry docks is the fourth in a series of blog posts illustrating the development of Naval Station Norfolk and its neighboring facilities. Unless otherwise noted, the photographs in this series represent the results of a research project seeking images of Hampton Roads naval installations at the National Archives and Records Administration. This research, performed by Southeastern Archaeological Research, Incorporated (SEARCH) was funded by Commander, Navy Region Mid-Atlantic as part of an ongoing effort to provide information on historic architectural resources at Navy bases in Hampton Roads. The Hampton Roads Naval Museum is pleased to present these images for the benefit of the general public and interested historians. As far as we know, all of these images are in the public domain and none of them have been published before.

By Joseph Judge

Hampton Roads Naval Museum Curator

The actor Will Smith, in one of his movies, donned a pair of sunglasses and told Tommy Lee Jones, “The difference between you and me is that I make this look good.” Since 1993 one person in particular has made the Hampton Roads Naval Museum look good: Marta Nelson Joiner. Now, in 2016, she is leaving us for a well-deserved retirement.

This is what HRNM looked like in 1994. The can of Coke was not Marta’s.

Marta came on board at the museum’s original home, the Pennsylvania House on the Naval Station, where she almost immediately plunged into the biggest project in our history: the relocation to Nauticus in downtown Norfolk in 1994. Moving an entire museum required extensive and daily reviews of complicated exhibit elements, audio-visual material, security cameras and artifact transportation. The museum opened successfully, no small thanks to Marta.

Cuba Libre (above and below) – two images of the Spanish-American War centennial exhibit.

After that, the problem is not what to say about Marta but how to stop saying things about Marta. She designed the museum’s largest and most ambitious temporary exhibit in 1998: Cuba Libre: The Spanish-American War in the Caribbean. Marta had to fit the new exhibit over the museum’s permanent exhibits – no small feat – and the result was informative and beautiful.

Some of us, including Marta on the right, the day the Wisconsin opened. The smiles are real.

Marta was also instrumental in design and planning for the second biggest project in the museum’s history: the opening of the battleship Wisconsinwas an attraction in 2000. Marta helped to plan the tour route, the location of docent stations, the development of a logo and a wide variety of shipboard interpretive signage in 2001. When it opened, the Wisconsin was the most popular tourist attraction in the state of Virginia. In one of the more exciting episodes of her career, the author and Marta were detained in the shipyard after working on the Wisconsin in December. We were trying to find some coffee and get warm and ended up in the wrong place. We celebrated our eventual release back in Norfolk.

Marta did not rest on any laurels, then or later. Highlights of her illustrious work include the following:

Design and fabrication of the Wisconsin’s ship’s silver exhibit. This sensitive assignment included innovation with security cameras and lighting.

Design of an exhibit for a “Bully the Moose” exhibit aboard USS Theodore Roosevelt. The exhibit, featuring a real moose head and information about the 26^th president, required relocation while the TR was in the yard for refueling. Mrs. Joiner travelled to the ship on the stressful day after 9/11 to manage the project.

Design of a newtemporary exhibit gallery - the “Forecastle Gallery,” a shared space with Nauticus. Mrs. Joiner pushed for creation of a temporary exhibit space (the first in the building).

Installation of a major permanent exhibit that highlighted the development of the Naval Station and the 1907 Jamestown Exposition. 1907: The Jamestown Exposition and the Launching of the New Steel Navy is a beautiful and insightful contribution to the history of the region and the history of the city of Norfolk. It was also an important contributor to “Sail Virginia,” Norfolk’s contribution to the Jamestown 2007 commemorative events.

In 2011 Marta was the museum’s point person for remaking shipboard exhibits aboard USS Arleigh Burke (DDG 51), dedicated to Admiral Arleigh Burke. Mrs. Joiner designed the new exhibits and oversaw their fabrication and installation. The exhibit opened on the 20^th anniversary of the ship’s original commissioning, 4 July 2011.

In 2014, she was an integral part of the design team working on “Stewards of the Sea,” an exhibit highlighting the Navy’s environmental efforts. This high-tech, hands-on exhibit represents an important step forward for Navy exhibits and Nauticus. It provides immersive scenarios for the visitor to learn about the Navy’s environmental measures while at sea, to include its protective measures with the marine life it encounters.

I have not even mentioned exhibits at the Navy Tour & Information Center, the MAC Terminal, the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, Fort Story, Little Creek, Commander Navy Region Mid-Atlantic or numerous others.

She completely redesigned the museum’s signature publication, TheDaybook, twice, most recently in 2015. And in her spare time she has corralled problems with the museum’s IT systems, security cameras, telephones, all while solving graphic design problems that crossed her desk each day. And I need it by Tuesday.

Accreditation is the gold standard of museum performance. We obtained it in 2008, in no small part because of the professionalism of our publications and exhibits. This hard-working woman served as the manager of an exhibit design and fabrication program that welcomed over 3,470,000 visitors to exhibits in Nauticus between 1994 and 2015; and welcomed over 2,500,000 visitors to the battleship Wisconsinduring the period of Navy ownership (2000-2009).

Marta in her office receiving some news about a broken exhibit. The sign in the background was at first infamous, then just famous. Note the (then) state-of-the-art Macintosh computer at the back left.

The rest and best part of the story lies in the years of laughter and tears that we enjoyed with the divine Miss M. Some years, tears outweighed the laughter, but there is no helping that part of life, and we were always there for each other. Bon voyage Marta, HRNM loves you.

Sebastian Rio at the World War II Memorial, April 2016 (Photo by Laura Orr)

For the past six years I’ve worked at HRNM, I didn’t know Sebastian Rio was a World War II veteran. Like many of that generation, Sebastian talks more about his family than he does about his own accomplishments. It was only this past November when he mentioned in passing that he was the last veteran wearing the World War II victory ribbon at his church the Sunday before Veterans’ Day. That led me to think about Honor Flight Historic Triangle Virginia, an amazing non-profit group that takes World War II and Korean War Veterans to visit their memorials in Washington, D.C. When I found that Sebastian had never been there, I immediately began conspiring to get him on the next Honor Flight. He was easy to convince—I simply gave him the application and offered to act as his “guardian,” which meant I would spend the day with him in D.C. and help him out with anything he needed that day. I was excited to make this happen—but I had no idea it would be such a life-changing experience.

When we stepped off the bus on that rainy Saturday and I saw Sebastian’s face as he looked at the World War II Memorial—HIS memorial—I knew it was all worth it. In that one day, I learned more about Sebastian Rio than I ever knew before. Sebastian is one of our dedicated Naval Museum volunteers. He has volunteered at HRNM since the Battleship Wisconsin arrived in 2001, making the transition to working in our library after the ship was turned over to the City of Norfolk in 2009. While I’ve spoken to Sebastian on a regular basis, I never learned about his background until this trip.

Sebastian Rio in 1944.

Sebastian, a native of Boston, joined the Naval Reserve at the age of 17, in 1944. As he told me, “Boston was a Navy town. Everyone in my neighborhood joined the Navy as soon as they were old enough.” Sebastian was sent immediately to a year of radar training school, from which he emerged in 1945. It was the end of the war, and he served aboard USS Iowa (BB-61) as a member of the occupying forces in Japan. When we were discussing whether he had photographs of himself in uniform, Sebastian shook his head and said, “Now that I’m looking back at it, I wish I had carried a camera with me during my time in Japan. But it was all so devastated—at the time, I just couldn’t think of taking photographs of it. Now, I want to be able to remember what I experienced.” He may not have photographs, but his memory draws a picture that made me feel as though I was there. Sebastian remembered going into Tokyo for liberty, when he and the other Sailors were allowed to go only into the areas already cleared by the Army. One time he went to buy some silk for his sisters and, before he entered the shop, he could hear the women inside talking away. He entered and they became completely silent the whole time he was there. He related, “The Japanese people were very respectful to us, but they had been shown propaganda about the American people throughout the whole war, so they didn’t go out of their way to be friendly.”

Top: Sebastian attended World Series Game 5 at Wrigley Field while attending radar school in Chicago. Bottom: This is a scan of one of the beer tickets the Navy gave Sebastian in Yokosuka, Japan. (Courtesy Sebastian Rio)

Sebastian served aboard USS Iowa (BB-61) in Japan for about five months. This experience drew him to become an HRNM volunteer when he heard that Iowa’s sister ship, USS Wisconsin (BB-64), would be berthed here in Norfolk. As a young teenager reporting to Iowa, he remembered how beautiful she looked, and he was so excited to serve aboard her. When I asked him about coming to Wisconsin years later in his life and whether that brought back memories of his time aboard Iowa, he said, “I don’t care what they say—as an adult, Wisconsin looks so much smaller than Iowa looked when I was just a teenager!” Same ship, much different perspectives.

Sebastian served in the Navy until 1946, then spent the rest of his career as a mechanical engineer. Since volunteering at the battleship and HRNM in 2001, he has accrued approximately 1600 hours. He spends half his year here in Norfolk and the other half in Nova Scotia, where his wife's family is from.

We have so many dedicated, amazing volunteers at HRNM. I feel lucky to be able to spend time with them on a daily basis, and Sebastian will always be special because of the Honor Flight experience we shared. I will never forget that day, and I hope he doesn’t, either. Sebastian, thank you for being you.

This panoramic view shows Research Vessel (RV) Neil Armstrong (AGOR-27) moored near the battleship Wisconsin (BB-64) which is moored on the other side of the National Maritime Center Nauticus and Half Moone Cruise Terminal in downtown Norfolk. While the era of the battleships might be over, research vessels are as vital to the Navy's mission as they ever were. (Photograph by M.C. Farrington)

The United States Navy has been a global leader in both carrying out and facilitating oceanographic research and exploration for most of its history, and ships such as the long-lived USS Bear helped explore the inaccessible wastes of the earth's polar regions, both for scientific research and to stake territorial claims. After the turn of the last century, the Navy's missions broadened from the surface of the ocean as submersibles and aircraft significantly broadened the battlespace, but with some significant exceptions after the Second World War, such as the record-breaking dives completed off Guam by the bathyscapheTrieste during Project Nekton in the late-1950s and early 1960s, undersea exploration took a back seat to the beckoning sky.

The strategic imperatives of the Cold War put a premium on aerospace, ballistic missile and rocketry research. As an indirect result, breathtaking gains were made in outer space exploration, so much so that by the late-1960s, more was known about the surface of the moon than the floor of the earth's oceans. The Navy's contribution to oceanographic research did not completely wither away during this time, yet the first ship used by the Office of Naval Research (ONR) to support scientists for non-military research, USNS Josiah Willard Gibbs (T-AGOR-1), was a converted seaplane tender that fought in the Battle of Surigao Strait.

Neil Armstrong, seen here in his official Apollo
11 portrait taken in 1969, passed away in 2012 at
the age of 82. His name lives on in the US Navy's
newest oceanographic research vessel that is
beginning operational service this summer.
(NASA/ Wikimedia Commons)

A decade later, when former naval aviator Neil Armstrong was training in 1967 for the first manned mission to the moon's surface, the keel was laid in Bay City Mich. for a new class of dedicated deep sea research vessel that would reenergize deep sea exploration.  Delivered in 1970 to the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute in Woods Hole, Mass., the 244 foot-long Earnest Knorr (AGOR-15), named for the man who led a 25-year effort to chart and survey the world’s oceans a century before, would ultimately prove instrumental in helping oceanographers, geologists, and other scientists form a much greater understanding of plate tectonics and confirm the existence of hydrothermal vents as well as the otherworldly life residing there.

RV Knorr is also popularly known for her role as host to Dr. Robert Ballard and the scientific team that found RMS Titanic in 1985, after completing a classified mission to survey the remains of the ill-fated submarines Scorpion (SSN-589) and Thresher (SSN-593).  Although the discovery was Knorr's greatest brush with fame, the mission was but a small part of her 44-year career, in which she traveled 1.35 million miles (the equivalent of more than two round trips to the moon) on journeys from the Arctic to the southern oceans and hundreds of places in between.   Lessons learned during the decades of Knorr's service were taken into account as plans for a successor began to take shape during the 1990s.

In September 2012, just a few weeks after Neil Armstrong passed away at the age of 82, the Navy announced that the newest class of oceanographic research ship would be named for him. Christened on March 28, 2014, and launched a few days later, RV Neil Armstrong (AGOR-27) passed her sea trials in August 2015 and was officially delivered to the Navy on September 23, 2015. The 238-foot-long research vessel recently stopped in Hampton Roads on a verification cruise from the shipyard where she was built in Anacortes, Washington, to her new home port in Woods Hole, Mass.

Kent Sheasley, a 20-year veteran of oceanographic exploration aboard RV Knorr, discusses the vast improvements in navigation and engineering technologies at the helm of RV Neil Armstrong during a recent visit to the downtown Norfolk waterfront. (Photograph by M.C. Farrington)

"We run everything--[the Navy] holds the pink slip," said Kent Sheasley, a Massachusetts Marine Academy graduate who worked his way up from an able seamen to first mate on RV Knorr over the last two decades and who is now the captain of RV Armstrong. Sheasley noted that they were nearing the end of their fifth verification cruise, in his words, to "verify that the ship is ready to do real paid service, because at $45,000 a day, you want to be sure."

Completed in 2014, RV Neil Armstrong sports a "Made in USA"

label just below the bridge on her starboard side. (Photograph by

M.C. Farrington)

One of seven ships dedicated to academic research under the consortium of institutions belonging to the University National Oceanographic Laboratory System (UNOLS), Armstrong receives essential funding through ONR as well as a number of other federal agencies such as the National Science Foundation (NSF) and the National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA), but when her active service starts this summer, scientists from all over the world, funded by research grants from a multitude of foundations, will financially sustainArmstrong on her missions of discovery all around the world.

Considering that Armstrong was in development for the better part of two decades, it might sound surprising that the research vessel is slightly shorter than her predecessor, her 40-day endurance is approximately two weeks less, and she can embark fewer scientists than RV Knorr could. Despite this, Armstrong possesses notable advantages over her predecessor such as a more advanced dynamic positioning system, greater fuel economy and cleaner exhaust, and her engines also produce less than half the underwater noise that RV Knorr produced. This is particularly important because Armstrong also has the most advanced research sonar array the Navy possesses.

(Left) RV Knorr in Reykjavic, Iceland towards the end of her American service life in 2014 (Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute) and her replacement, RV Neil Armstrong (right), along the Norfolk waterfront during her recent verification cruise from Anacortes Washington to the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute in Massachusetts, show the dramatic design improvements made to facilitate the deployment of scientific gear and remotely-piloted underwater vehicles, particularly the A-Frame launch-and-recovery system mounted to the stern. (Photograph by M.C. Farrington)

Another improvement in design involves the ability to add modular trailers containing anything from industrial repair equipment to self-contained Remotely Piloted Underwater Vehicle (ROV) control centers that can now be bolted to Armstrong's aft deck.

In front of a group of visitors from the nearby National Maritime Center Nauticus, Captain Kent Sheasley describes how the spacious "dry lab" on Armstrong's starboard side will meet the needs of embarked scientists once the research vessel begins missions this summer. There is also a slightly smaller "wet lab" and adjoining hangar on the port side that opens to the aft weather deck. (Photograph by M.C. Farrington)

The average stateroom an embarked scientist could expect to use aboardRVArmstrong. (Photograph by M.C. Farrington)

Despite the comparatively cushy surroundings for the 22 crewembers and up to 24 scientists and researchersembarked aboardArmstrong compared to the average Navy vessel, their optempo can exceed that experienced by the average Sailor. With a years-long waiting list of scientists hoping to utilize the Navy's newest and most advanced oceanographic research platform, Capt. Sheasley expects Armstrong to be kept underway for anywhere between 300 to 320 days per year.

(Top) Just aft of the engineering section of RV Armstrong, 10,000 meters of Electro-Mechanical (EM) wire await use supporting a multitude of different missions including ROV operations, but what Armstrong's EM wire will probably be used for most is for deploying her onboard Conductivity/Temperature/Depth (CTD) Rosette Adaptive Sampling Device (bottom), which Capt. Sheasley calls the "bread and butter of oceanographic research." It can determine a wealth of data at practically any depth in Earth's oceans such as oxygen level, salinity, and even its horizontal velocity using an Acoustic Doppler Current Profiler, taking 30 to 40 readings per meter of travel. The CTD can also bring back samples using the Niskin bottles ringing the device's rosette frame. (Photographs by M.C. Farrington)

By Jerome Kirkland

Hampton Roads Naval Museum Educator

On June 4, 1943, 381st Port Battalion Company "C" Scouts practice disembarking from a Landing Craft, Mechanized (LCM) in Newport News, Virginia. (Army Signal Corps Photograph/ Library of Virginia)

Many people would recognize a “Higgins Boat” if they saw one in a movie like “Saving Private Ryan”, “Sands of Iwo Jima”, or any other number of movies with amphibious landing craft “hitting” the beach during the Second World War. Few, however, may realize the battle the boat’s creator, Andrew Jackson Higgins, had to fight to get these indispensable boats accepted by the US Navy. Fewer still would realize that by September 1943, over 90% of the vessels in the US Navy would have been designed by Higgins. Nearly two decades later, none other than the former Supreme Commander of Allied Forces, Dwight D. Eisenhower, would recall that Higgins was “…the man who won the war for us.”

Andrew J. Higgins (Wikimedia Commons)

In the years between World War I and World War II, Higgins developed a boat for shallow water use in the bayous and swamps around New Orleans and the Gulf Coast. During this same time, the United States Marines were looking for boats that would help them carry out the new amphibious assault techniques they were developing. When these two got together, the battles between Higgins and the Navy, the beginnings of a specialized amphibious Navy, and the birth of an iconic piece of WWII military equipment would all get their start.

In 1938, as war was breaking out in Europe, the US Marine Corps requested that Higgins send a 30-foot long version of his “Eureka” boat to Norfolk for testing on Willoughby Spit and Virginia Beach against other boats built by Chris Craft and the US Navy’s Bureau of Construction and Repair (Navy Bureau). The 30-foot length was a requirement of the Navy to fit current davits on ships for launching boats. Higgins’ boat performed well enough for the Navy to award a small order, along with Bureau versions, for further testing.

This set the stage for Higgins' first battle with the Navy. Higgins felt a 36-foot-long boat would perform and meet the services’ needs better than a 30-foot version, so in September of 1940 he built and shipped a 36-foot version of his boat, at his own cost, to Norfolk for the final round of testing. Higgins argued that the Navy should change the davits on its ships in order to get the best boat for the job, rather than accept an inferior boat. With the support of the Marine Corps, the Navy accepted Higgins’ 36-foot boat for testing. By the end of testing, the Higgins boat outperformed all the others and exceeded all requirements. The Chief of Naval Operations (CNO) report to the Secretary of the Navy listed Higgins' design as the best option, followed by the Chris Craft design. The Bureau’s own design finished last, yet days after the report’s release, the Bureau ordered its own version to be built.

An LCP(L), originally invented by Higgins and designed by the Eureka Tug-Boat Company of New Orleans, is used to land Marines during the Guadalcanal Campaign (Wikipedia)

After protests from Higgins, the Marine Corps, and the US Army, the Navy finally placed their first order for Higgins’ 36-foot Eureka boat, to be called the Landing Craft Personal, Large or LCP(L) in November of 1940. During the testing and development of the LCP(L), and the 30-foot "medium" Navy version called the LCP(M), a major drawback of the latter design became obvious: Troops and cargo had to be unloaded over the side of the boat. Modifications were made to the LCP, putting a narrow ramp between the two forward machine gun mounts, making it an LCP(R) for “ramped.” This design created a bottleneck at the bow of the boat while unloading. Higgins felt he could do better, and this would set the stage for his next battle with the Navy.

A Higgins PT boat.

In November of 1940, with an order for LCP(L)s in hand, the Navy arrived in New Orleans to witness testing on Higgins’ Torpedo Patrol Boat design, PT-6 (prime). Higgins took the opportunity to demonstrate a new 36-foot landing craft equipped with a full-width ramp at the bow. Over the next several months, amidst complaints of unfair testing, Higgins finally won a contract for his PT boat and by the end of the war, he had built around 200 PT boats of different variations. During this time, between November 1940 and May 1941, Higgins also fought to have his wide-ramped 36-foot landing boat evaluated. By late May 1941, Higgins finally got his test on Lake Pontchartrain. With enthusiastic support from the Marines and the Army, Higgins got an order to produce the first 26 boats to be delivered to Norfolk, Virginia, by June 15. This is the Iconic landing boat of the movies, called the Landing Craft Vehicle Personnel (LCVP), or more commonly, a “Higgins Boat.”

A Landing Craft Vehicle Personnel (LCVP) belonging to the attack transport USS Darke (APA-159) off the coast of Okinawa in April 1945. (Wikipedia)

During these battles between Higgins and the Navy over his PT boat and LCVP, the Navy was also seeking a landing barge, called a tank lighter, that could deliver a tank or artillery piece ashore. So on the same day in late May that Higgins received an order to build the first batch of LCVPs, he also received an order to deliver a set of plans for a tank lighter. This would set the stage for the biggest battle between Higgins and the Navy.

Higgins told the Navy that he would not only deliver plans for the tank lighter, but he would also deliver a completed boat. Despite claims it could not be done, Higgins took a partially completed tow and barge tender and converted it into a 45-foot tank lighter. Designing it as he built it, Higgins completed his boat in only 61 hours and tested it in front of the Navy on Lake Pontchartrain by the end of May. The design was good enough for the Navy to order six of them for testing.

Between May 1941 and May 1942, testing between tank lighters by Higgins, the Navy Bureau and others consistently showed Higgins boat to be the best, yet the Navy Bureau consistently ordered their own design to be built. This would eventually lead to Senator Harry Truman, Chairman of the Senate Special Committee to Investigate the National Defense Program, intervening and ordering a head-to-head test between boats. Starting in Norfolk, going to Little Creek to test bay and inland waters, then out to Fort Story to test ocean waters, the Higgins boat not only completed the testing course but rescued the Bureau’s boat when it foundered and nearly capsized. This was the birth of the Landing Craft Mechanized, or LCM.

LCVPs await completion and delivery at Higgins' shipyard near New Orleans. (Library of Congress)

Higgins won this battle, yet when President Roosevelt called for 600 more LCMs to be delivered by September 1, 1942, in preparation for the landings in North Africa, the Navy Bureau took advantage of this. They increased the order to 1100 so that they could have their own design built. It took protests from the Army and Marines to have Higgins’ design built before the Navy Bureau relented.

After May of 1942, Higgins was on much better terms with the Navy, designing and producing boats such as the LCP, LCVP, LCM, PT boats and others. By September 1943, of the 14,072 vessels listed in Navy rolls, 12,964 of them, or 92 percent, were designed by Higgins. It was Higgins’ innovative designs and determination to produce the best boats possible that led to his boats becoming icons of WWII equipment. Far from being a profiteer, however, Higgins often put up his own money and even renegotiated contracts with the Navy for less money, even after they were awarded, when he found ways to reduce costs.

On a Landing Ship, Tank (LST) somewhere off the coast of Sicily in July 1943, soldiers of the 45th Infantry Division get one last hour of rest before making a landing as LCVPs loom in their davits overhead. (Library of Congress)

Higgins’ determination, quality of his boats, and the shear number produced, is probably what led Adolf Hitler to refer to Higgins as the “new Noah” in an interview in the Nazi propaganda newspaper Voelkischer Beobachter. These qualities are probably what led Former President Eisenhower, in 1964, to say of Higgins “…he is the man who won the war for us.” “If Andy Higgins had not developed and then built those landing craft," Eisenhower continued, "we never could have gone in over an open beach. It would have changed the whole strategy of the war.”

By Joseph Miechle
Hampton Roads Naval Museum Educator

Drawing of USS New Ironsides shortly after commissioning in Philadelphia, PA. The ocean-going ironclad was fully rigged for sails. (Harpers' Weekly)

When one hears mention of a Civil War ironclad, images of the USS Monitor and CSS Virginia- style ships may immediately come to mind. While these two styles were certainly the predominant designs during the war, engineers tried a few other innovative variations as well. One of the lesser known, yet most effective ironclads developed during the war was USS New Ironsides. The Hampton Roads Naval Museum is proud to have a model of this ship, as well as the original (functioning!) engine room clock in our Civil War gallery.

John Ericsson’s Monitor design was not the only plan submitted when contracts were awarded to northern shipyards for production of ironclad ships that could take on the Confederate casemate ironclad Virginia, then nearing completion in Norfolk. Production on USS Monitor began after Congress had already approved work to begin on USS Galena and USS New Ironsides. Ericsson’s “tin can on a shingle” was completed quickly and placed into service before either Galena or New Ironsides was complete. Because of this, the Ericsson design won fantastic public support and political backing in the aftermath of the Battle of Hampton Roads.

The Hampton Roads Naval Museum's model of USS New Ironsides as she appeared late in the Civil War, bow view (left) and stern view (right). (Photographs by M.C. Farrington)

USS New Ironsides' powerful broadside of 8 guns could place many more shells onto a fortification than could the Ericsson style ironclads. (Photograph by M.C. Farrington)

In stark contrast to the turret-based design of USS Monitor and her subsequent sister ships, USS New Ironsides maintained a more traditional broadside armament. The broadside configuration of fourteen 11-inch Dahlgren smoothbore guns and two 150-pound Parrot rifled guns required upwards of 200 men to operate them. The guns also required construction of special naval carriages so they could operate in the confines of a fully armored gun deck. The opening and closing of each armored shutter protecting the gun crews required ten men to operate. WhenNew Ironsides was operating at peak efficiency, she could deliver withering fire upon the enemy.

The original crew of USS New Ironsides was patched together with volunteers and recent recruits to the Navy. Many of the crew had no experience aboard ship prior to in Philadelphia in 1862. Fewer than one in ten crewmen had joined the Navy prior to May 1862 and over 45 percent of them were rated as landsmen or boys. The crew was drilled vigorously at Hampton Roads prior to her first combat at Charleston, South Carolina on April 7, 1863, in which New Ironsides and several Monitor-style ironclads bombarded Fort Sumter, but failed to achieve a tactical victory.

In what may be the only known combat photograph of its kind from the American Civil War, spectators along the beach can be seen observing Union ironclad ships bombarding either Ft. Sumter or Ft. Moultrie, South Carolina. USS New Ironsides can be plainly seen on the right side of the photograph on the horizon. Smoke still lingers in the air from her deadly broadside. (Chubachus Library of Photographic History)

Action by New Ironsides against Fort Wagner, S.C. in 1863 demonstrated the ship’s true ability. Confederate General Roswell Ripley wrote, “Our great enemy is now the [New] Ironsides.” The ship fired its guns in rotation, one after another. This allowed her to keep a steady stream of fire upon an enemy fortification. New Ironsides expended 464 rounds from her guns in just one day of action at Ft. Wagner. Colonel Charles Olmstead of the First Georgia Volunteers wrote:

Her broadsides were not fired in volley, but gun after gun, in rapid succession, the effect upon those who were at the wrong end of the guns being exceedingly demoralizing. Whenever she commenced there was a painful uncertainty as to what might happen before she got through.”

New Ironsides could put over ten times as much fire onto a target in an hour than a Monitor-class ship could. Ericsson conceded that the slow firing monitors could not contend with fortifications to the degree that New Ironsides could.

(Photograph by M.C. Farrington)

New Ironsides' armor also seems to have held up better than that of the other ironclad ship designs. USS Galena was shot through by Confederate guns at Drewry’s Bluff on the James River and Confederate gunners soon realized that damage to the seam, between the turret and deck, on Monitor style ships would quickly disable their ability to rotate. New Ironsideswas struck over 150 times by heavy Confederate guns throughout the war and it never impaired the ship’s ability to fight.

New weapon evolution in the Civil War is a substantial topic in itself and no new design went unnoticed by the enemy. The Confederates in Charleston, South Carolina had been working on another weapon to destroy the blockading ships, the David boat. On October 5, 1863, under the orders of Captain J. R. Tucker C.S.N, a newly designed David-class torpedo boat succeeded in detonating a charge under USS New Ironsides and escaping into the night. The New Ironsides suffered little damage in the attack and one casualty, caused by gunfire from the David boat. The ship remained on station outside Charleston for the next several months before returning to Pennsylvania for routine repairs and maintenance.

The diversity of ironclad designs is shown in this engraving of USS New Ironsides (1862-1866) (left) and the double-turreted USS Monadnock (1864-1874) (right foreground) published in Harper's Weekly on February 3, 1866, as part of a larger print entitled "The Iron-clad Navy of the United States.” (Naval History and Heritage Command, NH-61431)

The armor belt of the ship was constructed of solid iron plates, up to 4.5 inches thick at the waterline backed by oak, pine, and iron braces. The armor itself was applied in “tongue and groove” style of construction which in theory would add strength and support to adjacent pieces of plating should they be struck by a projectile. British gun tests of this design would prove to the contrary in late 1862, too late to change the design of New Ironsides.

Watercolor painting done by Ensign John W. Grattan, who observed the second battle of Ft. Fisher aboard Rear Adm. David D. Porter’s flagship USS Malvern. A "Naval Contingent" made up of Sailors and Marines is shown attacking the fort's Northeast Bastion. Grattan's book Under the Blue Pennant or Notes of a Naval Officer was published in 2000. (Courtesy of the Naval Historical Foundation, Grattan Collection, Naval History and Heritage Command)

After repairs and the addition of anti-torpedo fenders at the Philadelphia Naval Yard in June 1864, New Ironsides was recomissioned with Commodore William Radford of the former USS Cumberland, in command. New Ironsides returned to participate in the Battles for Fort Fisher, NC in December 1864 and January 1865. Rear Adm. David Dixon Porter wrote of the ship’s action in January:

“The vessel did more execution than any vessel in the fleet, and even when our troops were on the parapet I had so much confidence in the accuracy of [Radford’s] fire that he was directed to fire on the traverses in advance of our troops and clear them out. This he did most effectually, and but for this the victory might not have been ours.”

Eight members of the crew of USS New Ironsides received the Medal of Honor for their performance during the battle.

USS New Ironsides takes aboard Sailors. Notice the Marine guard at the end of the ladder to prevent against the introduction of contraband and intoxicating liquors. Notice also the sailing masts have been replaced with signal masts. This photo was likely taken in southern waters.

Despite all of the political support for the Monitor design and actual deficiencies and shortcomings in design, USS New Ironsides truly proved to be one of the most effective ironclad ships of the Civil War. The design demonstrated that superior firepower on large ships would continue to play an important role in naval strategies well into the 20^thcentury. Many of the battleships of the Great White Fleet of 1907 carried a broadside of secondary guns in addition to their primary guns in turrets. Unfortunately, New Ironsideswas damaged by a fire after the war and broken up for scrap by 1869. For more information about New Ironsides, see the book USS New Ironsides in the Civil War by William H. Roberts.

By Katherine A. Renfrew

Hampton Roads Naval Museum Registrar

Dear Gramp,

These are the best views of the camp that I have seen giving the places that I have to stick around in. The streets are all cement and make me wish I had the motor. Am standing by for draft now and am not supposed to be here [,] but am doing this instead of eating chow. The chow is getting bum down here. They don’t give us butter any more [anymore] and the cooking is rotten all the time. They must have released all the good cooks.

I went down to get a registered letter and found that I had two instead of one. That will last me till payday. I should get about $16 this time because I have drawn no clothes this fortnight. Your idea of this vacation and mine do not agree.

I think that they will release us soon [,] but do not know anything about it. Then things will happen won’t they Sports.

HL
Taken from a postcard written by Herbert Austin Lincoln, 1919.

The Blue Jackets Manual, United States Navy 1918 states, “The U.S. Navy offers you a good position for life.” The message above would indicate that this Sailor was not sold on that notion. Herbert Lincoln's message to his “Gramps” was written while he was undergoing basic training at Naval Station Norfolk, at the time known as U.S. Naval Operating Base (NOB). He was discharged the same year the postcard was written. Lincoln, like many young men assigned to NOB for basic training in the early twentieth century, found life challenging, with constant building construction, long chow lines, and close quarters to name a few.

The U.S. Navy began constructing NOB in the beginning of July 1917. The development of the base grew quickly. Within 30 days, housing for 7,500 men had been finished, followed by the Fifth Naval District Headquarters, piers, aviation facilities, storehouses, facilities for fuel, oil storage, a recruit training station, a submarine base, recreation areas for fleet personnel, and a hospital.

By the end of 1918, the Navy had increased their force from 4,500 officers & 68,000 enlisted men to 15,000 officers and 254,000 enlisted, which consisted of regulars, reserves and national naval volunteers. In addition, the Navy expanded from 130 stations to 363. In December 1942, recruit training at NOB was terminated. Officials believed the base was more aptly equipped for advanced training for personnel moving directly to the fleet.

The following images depict construction and facilities of the base in the early part of the twentieth century.

A photograph taken during the construction of the Seaman Guard barracks, taken from corner of Maryland Avenue and Piersey Street, August 28, 1917. (National Archives and Records Administration, NSNorfolk-1917_18, RG 71-CA, Box 322, Folder B)

View of the kitchen, block C, looking North from west to east, October 26, 1917. (National Archives and Records Administration, NSNorfolk-1917_13 / RG 71-CA, Box 322, Folder B)

Interior view of Mess Hall No. 1 in Unit C, October 26, 1917. (National Archives and Records Administration, NSNorfolk-1917_10 / RG 71-CA, Box 322, Folder B)

Photograph depicts the aviation barracks and mess hall, March 14, 1918. (National Archives and Records Administration, NSNorfolk-1918_01 / RG 71-CA, Box 312, Folder B)

Building No. 11, boat crew barracks located in the Lagoon Unit, looking at north end and east side, May 2, 1922. The clock tower of the Pennsylvania House, which still stands today on Naval Station Norfolk, appears just to the right. (National Archives and Records Administration, NSNorfolk-1922_14 / RG 71-CA, Box 322, Folder B)

Photograph taken looking at west side and south ends of barracks, Building Numbers 8-21 located on the “sub base” area of Naval Operating Base, May 6, 1922. (National Archives and Records Administration, NSNorfolk-1922_16 / RG 71-CA, Box 322, Folder B)

Building No. 22, the base post office where Sailors picked up their packages and mail, Unit N, May 10, 1922. (National Archives and Records Administration, NSNorfolk-1922_39 / RG 71-CA, Box 322, Folder B)

Photograph depicts the cleared area where the barracks once stood and construction of new barracks, Unit K. View looking northwest, September 1, 1938. (National Archives and Records Administration, NSNorfolk-1938_05 / RG 71-CF, Box1, Folder Virginia-Naval Base, Norfolk)

New barracks almost complete, Unit K, June 6, 1939. View is looking northeast. (National Archives and Records Administration, NSNorfolk-1939_09 / RG 71-CA, Box 322, Folder C)

Interior view of the east “dormitory” on the first floor of the newly constructed barracks, Barracks Q, Unit K, November 17, 1939. (National Archives and Records Administration, NSNorfolk-1939_13 / RG 71-CA, Box 322, Folder C)

Building I-AA, mess hall and galley, still stands today and is a familiar site on Gilbert Street. This photograph was taken looking northeast from Gilbert, September 6, 1939. (National Archives and Records Administration, NSNorfolk-1939_06 / RG 71-CA, Box 322, Folder C)

This brief history of buildings serving the naval recruits is the fifth in a series of blog posts illustrating the development of Naval Station Norfolk and its neighboring facilities. Unless otherwise noted, the photographs in this series represent the results of a research project seeking images of Hampton Roads naval installations at the National Archives and Records Administration. This research, performed by Southeastern Archaeological Research, Incorporated (SEARCH) was funded by Commander, Navy Region Mid-Atlantic as part of an ongoing effort to provide information on historic architectural resources at Navy bases in Hampton Roads. The Hampton Roads Naval Museum is pleased to present these images for the benefit of the general public and interested historians. As far as we know, all of these images are in the public domain and none of them have been published before.

By Elijah Palmer
Hampton Roads Naval Museum Educator

After the defeat of the Nazis in World War II, the Allies eagerly studied some of the advanced German technology they had captured. One item of particular interest was the V-2. This supersonic missile was developed by Germany to retaliate against Allied bombing of German cities. First launched in 1944, over 3,000 were launched against Allied cities. American forces captured much of this technology late in the war, including material to assemble dozens of functional rockets, and also accepted the surrender of top scientists from the program.

The American government explored many uses for these rockets in the years following World War II. Military functions were the most obvious, and so it was that the Navy decided to look into the possibility of launching these weapons from ships. This potential ability would greatly increase the striking range of these missiles, providing a long-range seagoing armament. With this in mind, Operation Sandy was born in 1947, to test a V-2 rocket off of a ship.

First, an appropriate launching platform was needed. The Newport News-built USS Midway (CV 41) was selected for the test as it had plenty of space for the large missile and any launching apparatus, and also had a steel deck. Having a steel deck was a necessity since the rocket would start fires on the Essex-class carriers, which had wooden decks. According to an official Navy report, Midway was also selected for "its elevator capacity, its fire fighting facilities, and because of its steadiness at sea." A support frame was designed for a quick and stable setup and launch onboard ship.

Army ordnance experts at White Sands Proving Ground in New Mexico trained Sailors on the operation of the V-2. Two missiles and spare parts were shipped across the country by rail to Hampton Roads where they were loaded onto USS Midway at Norfolk Naval Shipyard. The shipyard's iconic "hammerhead" crane at the shipyard lifted the rockets onto the flight deck. After the missiles were onboard, two variants of a portable launching apparatus were tested with a dummy rocket and part of the crew was trained in handling it. Firefighters also conducted extra training in case fuel spilled or the missile fell over during launch. All of this preparation was done with tight security and armed guards.

When everything was ready, USS Midway, accompanied by four destroyers, headed out into the Atlantic. Along the way, select VIPs were welcomed aboard, including Admiral Forrest Sherman and Admiral William Blandy. A full rehearsal was conducted the day before the launch was scheduled. On the morning of September 6, 1947, at a point about 250 miles southeast of Bermuda, the crew finalized preparations for launching the V-2. The rocket was lifted into a vertical position, secured in its launching apparatus, and finally, was fueled.

The deck was cleared (observers went to the island) and the countdown began.

Primary ignition started and the supports dropped from the missile. (From a US Navy documentary on Operation Sandy)

Main ignition and lift off. (From a US Navy documentary on Operation Sandy)

V-2 launching over USS Midway. (From a US Navy documentary on Operation Sandy)

During the first few seconds of lift off, the rocket tipped to a 45-degree angle, but corrected itself shortly thereafter. The V-2 reached 12,000 feet before it tumbled and broke apart. Even with this shortened flight path, the operation was deemed a success. The hope was that firing these large rockets could become a regular part of a carrier's fighting capabilities, with the whole process of setting up, launching, and clearing the deck for flight ops taking only a comparatively short time. While carriers did not adapt this form of weaponry, Operation Sandy and other tests helped further the ideas of shipboard missiles and long range firepower.

By Jerome Kirkland

Hampton Roads Naval Museum Educator

This 1940 aerial photograph shows both Cape Henry Lighthouses and surrounding buildings at Fort Story in Virginia Beach. (Virginian-Pilot Photograph Collection/ Sargeant Memorial Collection)

This July, Fort Story will be celebrating a century in operation. An official observance of this milestone will be held on Independence Day, capped by a performance by Gary Sinise and the Lt. Dan Band at the historic Cape Henry Lighthouse.

Map source: "Plan for Entrance to Chesapeake Bay, VA,"Report of Completed Works-- U.S. Corps of Engineers. (October 1934, Textural Records Collection, National Archives and Records Administration)

If you are wondering why a Navy Museum blog post would be about a celebration at an Army base, there are a number of reasons. The first reason is that Fort Story is no longer strictly an Army base. Naval Amphibious Base Little Creek and the Army’s Fort Story combined into Joint Expeditionary Base Little Creek-Fort Story in 2009 as part of the Base Realignment and Closure (BRAC) program, becoming the first joint base in Hampton Roads. But the connection goes much deeper, especially if you look at the WWII period.
Both before and during the Second World War, Fort Story was in the perfect location for testing and training Sailors on new types of landing craft, having shoreline on both the Chesapeake Bay and the Atlantic Ocean.

An LST photographed during training exercises at Naval Amphibious Base

Little Creek in 1943.

In a previous blog post we talked about the Higgins Boats such as the Landing Craft Vehicle, Personnel (LCVP), and the Landing Craft, Mechanized (LCM) that were tested at Fort Story. This was followed with training soldiers how to embark and debark from these boats. Next came the Landing Craft, Infantry (LCI), capable of delivering 250 combat ready troops directly to the shore, and the more famous Landing Ship Tank (LST) which could carry 20 or more tanks (depending on size) along with over 200 troops.

Fort Story also had a connection with the Navy by way of the US Army Coastal Defense Corps.

Before America entered World War II, the US Army Mine Planting Service, part of the Coastal Defense Corps, built a mine tending ship dock and mine storage facilities next to the Little Creek Coast Guard station, with their headquarters on Fort Story. These mine planting facilities where there before construction on the Little Creek Naval Base began and would later become part of the base, after the Coastal Defense Corps was disbanded.

Another connection between Fort Story and the Navy can be traced to the Washington Naval Treaty of 1922. This treaty limited the number of battleships the Navy could have. This created a problem, because the Navy already had 16-inch guns meant for the next battleships. These guns were put in storage until the Iowa-class battleships were designed in 1938. The battleship Wisconsin was one of the four Iowa-class ships. Due to design differences, they found the 1920s 16-inch guns would not work on the Iowa-class battleships. So, what to do with these guns? Enter Fort Story.

Two of the guns were installed at Fort Story and two were installed on Fort Custis, at Cape Charles. These guns helped extend the range for the coastal defense of the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay, which is vital for American sea power.

The Army and Navy in Hampton Roads may have not always gotten along perfectly, but the outstanding training areas of Fort Story have helped make them an unbeatable team when called upon to defend our nation. So as we observe the 240th birthday or our nation, we at the Hampton Roads Naval Museum would also like to wish Fort Story a Happy 100th Birthday.

By Laura Orr
Deputy Education Director, Hampton Roads Naval Museum

LT Jim Reid walks off the tarmac at NAS Oceana in 1963. (Courtesy Jim Reid)

Jim Reid is one of those people who always has a story to tell—and he always tells that story in such an interesting way that time will fly by without anyone realizing it. Jim has volunteered at the Hampton Roads Naval Museum (HRNM) for almost twenty years, beginning back in 1997. Jim is a docent for the museum, sharing his knowledge of and experience with naval history with all of our visitors.

Jim’s favorite part of the museum is the Civil War gallery, where he will inevitably share his love for William B. Cushing—the less famous of the Cushing brothers, since Alonzo fought at Gettysburg (and recently received the Medal of Honor for his actions). Jim’s opinion is that William’s actions were just as important as Alonzo’s, and he is just as worthy of a Medal of Honor. He makes a good case for William B. Cushing’s worthiness, too, for he was the mastermind behind the plan that sank the dreaded ironclad CSS Albemarle, as well as a participant in the Battles of Hampton Roads and Fort Fisher.

When you talk to Jim about his Navy experiences, he will share story after story. There are times when I’ve stopped him and said, “And you didn’t get kicked out of the Navy for this?” Jim grew up around the world as a Navy brat. In 1947, when he was in sixth grade, Jim’s family moved to Guam. He remembers this time clearly, as the Second World War had been over for less than two years. The Marines on Guam still occasionally tracked Japanese soldiers on the island who refused to surrender. Jim reminisced, “These poor guys did not believe that their country had lost the war, so they chose to evade capture by living the life of a scavenger. They were really not anxious to be seen by anyone, so they were not a threat to us. They avoided even us kids. We didn’t know this, so we imagined that there might be a Japanese warrior hidden behind every bush.” Jim also remembered playing with hand grenades that failed to explode during the war. Luckily, they didn’t explode when Jim was playing with them, either. Thus, it was at an early age that he began to tempt death.

Jim Reid contemplates his next move in the museum's Life at Sea room. (Photograph by M.C. Farrington)

Jim attended the Naval Academy, graduating in 1957. He became a naval aviator who saw action during Vietnam. Prior to Vietnam, in the early 1960s, Jim was a member of VA-85, an A-1H Skyraider/”Spad” ground attack squadron assigned to the carrier USS Forrestal(CV-59). One of his well-told stories was about Sandblower training, which was designed to help pilots fly below enemy radar en route to a nuclear target. Jim’s plane took off with seven others from USS Forrestalin the pitch black at 0400 in the morning for this training, with Jim wearing his exposure suit and carrying his chart, knee-board, maneuvering board, a boxed lunch, and his helmet. Jim took off in the dark, using more fuel during the ten-hour flight than anticipated because he tried to catch up when he checked in late at one of his checkpoints. Exhausted and hurting after sitting in the exact same position for ten hours, Jim still had to land his plane on the ship. When the cut came from the Landing Signal Officer (LSO), he was still too high. He put both hands on the stick and pushed, in so much pain from sitting that he didn’t care if he crashed. At the last second, Jim pulled back from the dive and came down like a brick, hitting the deck hard. He was so stiff that he needed three plane captains to help extricate himself from the cockpit—and, when he reached the ready room, he expected to lose his wings for such a terrible landing. When he got there, though, the LSO said, “Okay, three.” Jim remembered, “I was astonished. ‘How could that be? It was the worst pass I ever made.’ The LSO smiled at him and said, ‘You should have seen the other seven.’”

This story is typical of Jim’s time in the Navy. He shares his wit, wisdom, and experiences with the staff of HRNM and with our visitors who come into the museum. The museum is a much better place because of what people like Jim add when they’re here. Jim’s favorite part of volunteering is, of course, being able to tell his stories to willing audiences, and being able to have historical discussions with our visitors.

Jim Reid discusses the circumstances surrounding the Battle of Hampton Roads with museum visitors Matthew, Ed, and Stephanie Simpson, from Charles Town, West Virginia. (Photograph by M.C. Farrington)

Editorial Discrimination: The Norfolk Seabag and African American Mess Attendants

USS Bear: Over 60 Years of Polar Service

Artifacts of the Month: Captain Ruth Moeller, MSC, USN

Historical Figure: Hunt Lewis

Introducing the Rau Collection

Sailors Lend a Hand against "Righteous & Harmonious Fists"

In Memoriam: Welland T. "Doc" Shoop

Artifacts of the Month: "Admirals' Row" Log Books

"Liberty on Church Street"

That's News to Me! An Armstrong Gun on CSS Virginia?

Historic Gems: Norfolk Naval Shipyard’s Dry Docks

In Praise of the Divine Miss M

World War II Veteran Sebastian Rio

One Smaller Ship for Research, One Giant Leap for Exploration: RV Neil Armstrong

June 1941: The first Higgins Boats Arrive in Hampton Roads

Not All Ironclads are Created Equal: USS New Ironsides

"My Home at this Minute:" A View of Norfolk Naval Operating Base in the Early 20th Century

USS Midway Launches a V-2: Operation Sandy

Happy Birthday America & Fort Story!

Historic Figure: Jim Reid