USS MULLINNIX DD-944

7 July 1972
DATELINE: Vietnam Gunline

Counter Battery! Counter Battery!
Shell Glances Off Radio Shack, Exploding In Water!

I fought the bureaucracy, the lifers, the Navy constantly and with zeal. Sometimes however you’d have a passing feeling not to fight and make the intolerable tolerable. There was one I respected more than anyone.

Commander "Boom Boom" Cannon was framed in the open hatch of the bridge like a picture in a magazine, frozen in time and space. A big man, but not a giant. More average in size than not. With his sleeves rolled up, and his face towards the battle, he seemed normal, which made the crew respect him even more. An admiral risked nothing, but the CO of a destroyer risked everything. Every day, He shouldered the risks, shielding the crew from most of it. HIS crew. Their leader. As much as a sailor could love another, we loved him.

The flashes of fire erupting from the 5" 54 barels danced in his gleaming dark glasses. In the distance he could hear the muffled explosions. By 0606 his ship had delivered, special delivery, 295 rounds to the enemy.

__________

It had begun to drizzle and rivulets of water were streaming down the sides of the column. Heavy wagons had plowed deep ruts in the pasty mud during the rainy season, which later baked into treacherous pits. The lead truck jolted over one, bouncing the driver a few inches off his seat. The rest of the convoy slid left to miss it. Slow going at best. Best way to mark a range for the ships offshore.

A sudden fierce squall raged down on the tanks and trucks. The rain, driven by gusts of wind, rattled like handfuls of gravel tossed against a windowpane. All that was ahead was an endless shell-blasted road. The last radio message they had received indicated that the ship was still offshore and was a definite treat.

The lead truck slowed as it rounded a bend and dipped into a shallow wallow hidden by brush. What laid just to the right was guaranteed to turn solid muscles to a quivering gelatinous mass. The command center had been in a fierce shelling just a short time ago. The walls were spattered with blood. Sprawled corpses were everywhere. The infantry jumped down from the troop trucks, their blood ran cold and their legs turned to jelly. They could smell it. They could really smell each others fear.

The rain couldn’t keep the stink of wet ash and burned rubber down. The remains of the battalion emerged from the trees. They were to have joined this column of tanks, fresh troops, fuel, and munitions for a deep drive back against the advancing South Vietnamese.

The VC Captain, jumped on his radio and demanded that their shore battery silence that damn destroyer. Then, a gathering rumble in the night air. Thunder they thought. Boom! Again and again and again! They managed only one round before the smell of engine grease was thick as the exploding shells ripped into the nearest tank, taking the gun emplacement with it. They'd hit Mullinnix with a glancing blow, the shell bounced of the Radio Shack into the sea, exploding 300 yards of her port bow, scaring the shit out of some of the crew. I was one of them.

__________

David C. Blankenbaker recalls (via email to Frank Wood, on 9 March 2012), "I was shown a slight "crease" in the bulkhead of the radio shack where a projectile of some sort had given it a glancing blow. I was told that either a shell (or missile??) had been observed the prior night and had exploded in the water after the near miss. Made me want to pucker up ... I had been on duty!!! I came on board during the Subic Bay stop, I think that was June-July 1972 thereabouts (deck logs say Mux was gone to Subic from 16 Jun - 3 July), so it was after that" (according to deck logs, Mullinnix steamed to Subic on 19 June, leaving Subic Bay on 1 July, 1972, returning to gunline on 3 July).

Another recall ... when the civilians came aboard to inspect the prop shafts that were determined to have a slight warp, the ship was taken to full speed and held there for what seemed maybe 15 minutes to a half hour, the vibration was intense, dust was flying, we were zooming!!! I thought someone had said we may have hit around 40 knots. I may have a picture or two that I took, ... have to look in the cobwebs."

__________

In the black and gloomy place I called my subconscious, a bitter coppery taste, like wet pennies, blossomed in my mouth. Why? Death was cruel anywhere, but the sea had honed its techniques. A man could die in battle, fall perforated by shell splinters or with the life blown out of him by the blast; die fast, screaming entombed by flame, or with hellish slowness, trapped in a flooding compartment or adrift without hope of rescue.

The spotter adjusted fire as the remaining trucks and men begin to scatter. “Fire for effect!” Boom Boom smiled – a cold smile. He'd just heard his favorite words.

There was an almost steady whistle in the air. How could one ship fire that many shells in such a short time? A troop truck went up in a fireball of flesh and metal. Blood fell like rain and splattered the sides of the remaining trucks. The smell of hot blood, mud, and cordite filled their nostrils.

__________

MT52 had lost power. MT51 and MT53’s barrels were burning the paint, black smoke raising off them in thin wisps. Both mounts were in the groove. On occasion, when the stars were aligned, all the hard work and preventive maintenance pays off. The gunners and their machines were cycling, in a deadly rhythm, endlessly belching their deliveries to the enemy.

__________

Mullinnix had caught them at a complete stand still. There must be spotters in the air. Wham! Fuel tanks and munitions exploding. Another very large boom – fuel drums. Whoosh. A fireball, pushing out the air around it. Wind, scattering debris. The fire reached the infantry, just licking them. Heat rising, a whirlwind lifting anything loose, setting them on fire at the edge of the fireball. Screaming, men in panic…on fire.

Most of the vehicles were smoldering wrecks with burning tires still giving off choking black acrid smoke. Charred, unrecognizable corpses slumped over their steering wheels that had been caught up in furious fires from exploding fuel tanks. Glass, metal, and charred leather debris littered the area. Blackened holes in the crushed rock road had been blasted down to the hard-packed dirt.

The smell of death was everywhere. The ones lucky enough to survive suffered broken limbs, concussions, collapsed lungs, and second and third degree burns. The rain had let up. Blood was starting to dry to the color of rust on the sides of the damaged vehicles. Uniforms were bright red where blood had dripped and spread. These VC would have to agree to the old adage, “war is hell”!

In response to their feeble attempt to silence the guns of Mullinnix, she managed to deliver a staggering 465 additional shells. Take that Charlie!

__________



Counter Battery!!! Enemy Tries to Silence Mullinnix - Tuff Shit Boys!
760 Rounds Fired by Mullinnix on 7 July


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