USS Juneau

It’s beautiful. Truly. Thank you so much. For anyone who isn’t aware, today marks the 83rd anniversary of USS Juneau’s sinking during the Naval Battle of Guadalcanal. Early in the morning, at 01:48, in near-pitch darkness and at almost point-blank range (due to bad weather and confused communications), the relatively small American landing support group, which included United States Ships Portland (CL/CA 33), San Francisco (CL/CA 38), Helena (CL-50), Atlanta (CL-51), Juneau (CL-52), Cushing (DD-376), Sterett (DD-407), Monssen (DD-436), Fletcher (DD/DDE-445), O’Bannon (DD/DDE-450), Laffey (DD-459), Aaron Ward (DD-483), and Barton (DD-599), engaged in a melee against Japanese forces consisting of 2 Kongo-class battleships (Hiei and Kirishima), 1 Nagara-class light cruiser (Nagara), and 11 destroyers, which included 2 Kagero-class destroyers (Amatsukaze and Yukikaze), 1 Asashio-class destroyer (Asagumo), 4 Shiratsuyu-class destroyers (Samidare, Murasame, Harusame and Yūdachi), 3 Akatsuki-class destroyers (Akatsuki, Ikazuchi and Inazuma), and 1 Akizuki-class destroyer (Teruzuki). The battle was brutal, and very one-sided, as the Japanese had superior tactics and were better disciplined in night-time battles, especially in such poor visibility. I could go into more detail about the bloodbath that was the first phase of the Naval Battle of Guadalcanal, but that would make this already too long comment even longer. Just know that of the 13 American vessels in the conflict, six of them were either sunk during the battle or in the aftermath, compared to the three for the Japanese. Of the six American vessels, one of them was Juneau, who barely was able to participate in the battle, but eventually caught Yūdachi, much to her own detriment, and fired all 8 533mm (21 inch), torpedoes at the destroyer, but failed to land a single hit. Yūdachi was forced to retaliate with gunfire from her 127mm (5 inch), main batteries, but fortunately for her, Amatsukaze, having just reloaded her torpedoes after sinking Barton, noticed her fellow destroyer under fire and mobilised to intervene, launching four of her 610mm (24 inch), torpedoes at Juneau, with one fatefully striking the light cruiser on her port side, cutting her speed, breaking her keel and disabling electrical power, crippling the ship, causing a severe list to port, and forcing her to limply retreat from the engagement. Later that day, before noon, San Francisco, Helena, and Juneau departed the Solomon Islands area to head to Espiritu Santo for repairs, with Juneau steaming on one screw, keeping station 800 yards (or 730 metres), off the starboard quarter of the likewise crippled San Francisco, with Juneau down 12 feet (or 3.7 metres), by the bow, but still able to maintain 13 knots (15mph or 24km/h). A few minutes after 23:00, the flotilla were detected and fired upon by the Japanese submarine I-26. I-26 launched two of her 530mm torpedoes, with the crippled San Francisco being the target, however, both weapons missed by passing ahead of her bow, but one ill-fated torpedo veered off and struck the crippled Juneau in the exact same spot Amatsukaze had struck during the surface battle over 20 or so hours ago, and this proved to be the coup de grâce. The subsequent explosion broke Juneau’s keel entirely in two, and she foundered in 20 seconds. Fearing further attacks from I-26, and wrongly (although fairly), assuming there were no survivors, San Francisco and Helena hurriedly departed. In fact, of her 687 officers and sailors, more than 100 had survived her subsequent sinking, and were left to fend for themselves in the ocean for 8 days. During that time, all but 10 perished, either from exhaustion, dehydration, succumbing to their wounds, hypernatremia, or shark attacks. Among those casualties, were the five Sullivan brothers. Frank, Joe and Matt were all killed instantaneously upon Juneau’s sinking, Al drowned the next day, and George survived for four or five days before suffering from delirium as a result of hypernatremia (though some sources describe him being “driven insane with grief” at the loss of his brothers), and he subsequently over the side of the raft he had occupied and fell into the water. He was never seen or heard from again. Security required that the Navy not reveal the loss of Juneau or the other ships so as not to provide the intelligence to the enemy. After not receiving letters from their sons for an extremely worrying amount of time, Alleta Sullivan (their mother), wrote to the Bureau of Naval Personnel in January 1943, citing rumours that survivors of the task force Juneau was part of claimed the Sullivan brothers had all been killed in action. This letter was answered by President Franklin D. Roosevelt on January 13, 1943, who acknowledged that the Sullivans were missing in action, but by then the parents were already informed of their fate, having learned of their deaths on January 12. That morning, the boys’ father, Tom, was preparing for work, when the one thing any family member or loved one of someone in active service dreads happened, three men in uniform — a lieutenant commander, a doctor and a chief petty officer — approached his door. “I have some news for you about your boys,” the naval officer said. “Which one?” asked Tom. “I’m sorry,” the officer replied. “All five.”

Josh Creepa