By Bill Casassa
In early November, I was privileged to be asked to provide an unusual tour on Laffey. A family was coming to Patriots Point from Texas on November 23rd. They were asking to have someone take their father, mother and other family members on a tour in some specific areas on the ship.
Corresponding with them ahead of their visit, I learned I would be helping their father, Tom Anthony, describe for them an incredible tale of his surviving a tragic event aboard another Sumner class destroyer.
At the time, June 1969, Tom Anthony was a Radarman Seaman. His training prepared him to operate and interpret the radars, communications circuits and operational tactics centered in the ship’s Combat Information Center (CIC). Tom was a junior rank so most of his time was spent watching radar screens. Like Laffey, his ship was also a FRAM 2 (Fleet Rehabilitation and Modernization) destroyer. It was the USS Frank E. Evans, DD-754.
On 3 June 1969, Evans was involved in a large SEATO (Southeast Asian Treaty Organization) Exercise with some 50 ships from the US, Australia, Thailand, New Zealand and Britian. The area of operations was the South China Sea near the Philippine Islands. In tactical command was an Admiral on the Australian aircraft carrier HMAS Melbourne. At 3:13am local time, Evans was struck and cut in-half between the smokestacks in a collision with the Melbourne. As a result of the collision, the forward part of the ship sank within minutes, while the stern remained afloat.
I located and read the Naval Inquest report that covered the investigation into how the accident happened. The overarching theme holds the Officer of the Deck (OOD) and the junior OOD on Evans responsible. They were controlling (or conning) the ship at the time. Of the 86 men in the forward section of the ship, 74 went down with it when it sank. Only one man’s remains were recovered.
Tom’s bunk was in the forward part of the ship, on the second platform level, which is one deck below the Crew’s Mess deck, on the starboard side of the berthing compartment. He was one of the few to survive from the forward section!
Laffey is the last remaining Sumner class destroyer in the US. Patriots Point’s Laffey allowed Tom to take his family (and me!) on the route he followed to get out of the sinking forward section of the Evans. It was a story he had shared with them, but now on Laffey he could bring much of it to life.
This was not an easy trip for Tom. In his 70s and fighting Parkinson’s disease, he still wanted to (and did!) climb each ladder, take each turn and tell what he had seen that morning. He also explained along the way what he was faced with, his thoughts about whether he would make it or not and where his final jump into the water off the sinking, forward section was.
We started up in CIC at his last watch station, the radar repeater inside the door from the pilot house. Tom was relieved from the watch at midnight by Greg Sage and headed down to get some sleep. According to the Inquest Report, no one in CIC survived the collision, including Tom’s watch relief. Greg was one of three brothers on the ship. Sadly they, like the five Sullivan brothers on the light cruiser USS Juneau sinking in World War 2, all perished.
From CIC we followed Tom’s path down to his berthing space to get to his bunk. It was mostly down the internal portside ladders he had climbed down.
I had a key so when we reached his berthing compartment, we could access the usually locked space. In the berthing compartment his rack was no longer in place, but his family marveled at what he remembered as he set the scene at its prior location. They also couldn’t believe how little room he had to himself and the crowded space for some 40+ people!
The Evans was struck on the portside which threw Tom and others out of their bunks. The severed forward part of the ship listed to starboard and started filling with water. However, the water did not come into the area Tom was in until later. We then followed Tom in a procession out of the compartment (the ladder on Evans was sideways now!) and up to the Mess deck.
Mess deck tables on the Evans were now also sideways, so the men had to pull themselves up across each table, then reach across and grab the next one. Then they climbed up the now sideways serving line ladder, where the water rushing into Evans’ forward hull finally started to catch up to Tom. He then worked his way out a watertight door across from the Wardroom Pantry to the weather decks (initially closed for condition Darken Ship, the door was forced open by someone who was in the water already but returned to help his shipmates escape). Tom then showed us where he went over the side in the area of the portside covered passageway, walked out onto the now exposed hull (!) and jumped into the water. All in the space of a few minutes!
Tom said he swam to some floating debris to hold on to. He saw another crewman swimming towards him. He turned out to be the Commanding Officer, Commander McLemore! He had been asleep in the CO’s at-sea cabin at the time of the collision. The OOD chose not to awaken him for anything that morning, even though the Captain’s standing orders required the OOD to inform the CO of things like course changes (which the ship was executing at the time of the collision) and about ships that were approaching to within a certain distance from Evans.
The CO asked Tom if he knew what had happened. Tom told him he thought the Carrier had hit the ship. They both watched the bow section of Evans sink below the waves. At the Naval inquest, the CO was found guilty of dereliction of duty and at his court martial he was reprimanded. The OOD’s and the Junior OOD’s careers were over.
Helos and boats from Melbourne began the effort to pick up survivors almost immediately. Other ships converged on the collision site as well. Tom and the CO were picked up by a boat from Melbourne.
Tom also talked about some instances of other men that survived as well as some that perished. Some were saved by shipmates, rescuers and their own efforts. Others who were trapped in the debris or were too injured didn’t survive. Still others gave their lives to help their shipmates to make it out.
He told of the experience of one survivor that seemed like it was out of a Hollywood movie. The man was on top of the Evans Signal Shack (Tom said the man was sleeping!). When the collision happened, he was actually thrown from the Signal Shack roof up onto the Melbourne’s flight deck! He suffered many broken bones but survived. I found the event mentioned in the Inquest report.
At times I saw Tom seemingly remembering a lot of details of his horrific night. But his resolve to accomplish this was strong and I believe it helped him to be able to flesh out his unforgettable story. His family had a new perspective of what Tom survived and took copious amounts of photos! June 3rd already had a special meaning for them. Laffey helped make it very real.
The visit also dug up a related memory from my past that I had forgotten. I had a year of technical training in San Diego, in anticipation of reporting to USS Comte De Grasse, DD-974 in 1976. Shipyard schedules slowed and many of us found ourselves in limbo while the issues got worked out. So, we were put to work teaching operator courses. One of the other instructors I worked with was Sonar Technician John Spray. After a few months of working with him, I learned he too was a survivor of the Evans collision! I mentioned it to Tom, and he remembered him as well!
This was one of those events here at Patriots Point that provided a lasting impression on both the visitors and this volunteer.