This concern for the possibility of damage or loss to our bombardment force in a Haiphong strike was expressed in secure phone discussions between our staff and their counterparts at CinCPacFlt. The response was that the Pentagon was very keen on this operation and the threat from shore batteries was judged to be minimal, considering the record of the North Vietnamese coastal defenses. The mission planning would go ahead.
On August 25, C7F received a message from the JCS, via CinCPac and CinCPacFlt, directing that surface combatants attack selected targets from the CinCPac/JCS target list in the Haiphong — Cat Ba Airfield complex with naval gunfire on 27 August 1972.
The directive was immediately passed down to Task Group 77.1, Seventh Fleet Surface Warfare Group, for action. Several of the Seventh Fleet staff officers wanted our staff to run the operation and simply ask CTG 77.1 for inputs, but I demurred. I had always been an advocate of delegating authority down the line as far as the capabilities of the subordinate commanders would permit, and in this case, CTG 77.1 was an experienced destroyer officer with a competent staff group, and the Seventh Fleet surface operations had been well run. The only guidance to be passed to CTG 77.1 was to include the USS Newport News (CA 148), our only 8-inch gun cruiser, in the strike force, and not to use the Oklahoma City. There was no point in risking the flagship’s sophisticated but fragile command and control electronics suit to a stray shard of shrapnel. Some of this one-of-a-kind equipment was so delicate that the shock and blast of the cruiser’s own gunfire could put it out of commission. Commander, Seventh Fleet would embark in the Newport News by helicopter on the afternoon of the twenty-seventh to lead the operation but would not exercise local tactical command.
I had decided to go along for two reasons. First, after expressing the view that the result might not justify the risks, it was important to reaffirm my confidence in my superiors’ overriding judgment. Second, an evening of fireworks up north would be a chance to observe North Vietnamese capabilities.
Four ships were selected for Lion’s Den, and the force was designated Task Unit 77.1.2. The officer in tactical command for the operation (CTU 77.1.2) would be Capt. John Renn, commander of Destroyer Squadron 25, riding in the Robison (DDG-12), a guided-missile destroyer. The Robison would team with the Providence, a 6-inch gun and missile cruiser, as one task element, and the World War II Gearing-class destroyer Rowan (DD-782) would join the heavy cruiser Newport News as a second task element. The Rowan had been selected for the mission because of a one-of-a-kind field modification that had converted the Weapon Alfa ASW rocket launcher to a Shrike antiradiation missile launcher. Shrike had been designed as an air-to-ground missile and was being widely used by Task Force 77 carrier aircraft against the North Vietnamese gun and missile control radars. The Shrike homed on electronic signals emanating from the active hostile radar. The Rowan installation was experimental and would be getting its first test as a surface ship weapon against coastal-defense and fire-control radars in Operation Lion’s Den.
The elements of Task Unit 77.1.2 were pulled from the gun line off Quang Tri Province and dispatched immediately to the URG in the Gulf of Tonkin to top off magazines and bunkers from the fleet oilers and ammunition ships. The Newport News loaded more than one thousand rounds of 8-inch ammunition from the Mount Katmai (AE-16), a record replenishment for the cruiser. Then all ships began to steam north independently at twenty-five knots to rendezvous about seventy miles southeast of Haiphong.
Chuck Packer was a young third-class electrician’s mate on board the Rowan that night, and he has recorded his experience and the recollections of several of his shipmates in a reminiscence titled “A Dicey Night up North.” Packer remembers 27 August 1972 as
the night we went all the way up North. In midafternoon of that day, the skipper, Cdr. Robert Comer, came on the intercom telling us that the Rowan was awaiting word from commander, Seventh Fleet, Vice Adm. James Holloway III in the USS Newport News (CA-148), concerning a possible raid on the main North Vietnamese harbor of Haiphong. That announcement lit a brushfire of discussion, apprehension, and, of course, scuttlebutt. Succinctly: What did this mean for us? We had less than two hours to ponder this thunderstroke when the skipper came on the intercom again confirming that the Rowan was, indeed, going to raid Haiphong in a matter of hours, along with the Newport News, Providence (CLG-6), and Robison. While I’m sure he added words concerning his confidence in our abilities and in his intention to bring us through safely, they were drowned in the cacophony of fear and panic that were beginning to invade my thoughts. However, I still vividly remember five more or less instantaneous, distinct thoughts and occurrences. I remember standing on the starboard weather deck just forward of amidships when the announcement was made. Then the Rowan changed course north and put on twenty-five knots while starting to light off the third and fourth boilers and bring them on line. I thought of the confused night surface battles of the Solomons campaign in 1942, where destroyers took tremendous punishment resulting in much loss of life, and the severely injured sailors that were left fighting for their lives in the choking fuel-oil fumes and flames, having abandoned their sinking ships. The Preston, Monssen, Gwin, Barton, and too many other cans went down with their dead and trapped crews during these types of night battles — the sort for which the Rowan was now headed at her best speed. I remember thinking that I had to get a grip on my emotions because the green boots on board would be looking to us “old salts” for cues and examples. Perhaps “leadership” would be too strong a word. Lastly, I remember the peace I experienced when I accepted that I could quite possibly die that night.
During the night of 26 August, the Oklahoma City also left the gun line off Quang Tri Province and headed north to join the four carriers in Task Force 77, the carrier striking force of the Seventh Fleet, which was engaged in around-the-clock aircraft strike operations into North Vietnam as part of the Linebacker I operation. The surface combatants were regularly rotated between the gun line and escort duties with the other Seventh Fleet task units as a matter of operating routine. The steady gunfire was wearing out their gun barrels, requiring the replacement of the barrel liners, which had to be accomplished in a shipyard. So equalizing gun barrel wear was an important consideration in scheduling for the gun line.
At about 1400 on 27 August, with little more than a toothbrush and a change of underwear, I climbed in a helicopter on the Oklahoma City’s fantail and was launched for the USS Newport News, some hundred miles to the north. After landing us on board the Newport News at 1505, our helicopter was refueled and sent off to spend the night on board the Kitty Hawk (CVA-63). Capt. Walter F. Zartman, skipper of the Newport News, did not want any fragile and fuel-loaded aircraft on his exposed weather decks for the evening’s activity. Among his concerns was damage to the helicopter from the blast of the cruiser’s own 8-inch guns.