Onboard a Guided Missile Destroyer on September 11th 2001.
I was serving on-board the Guided Missile Destroyer, the USS McFaul DDG74, which was doing operations in the Gulf of Oman. The McFaul was tasked with carrying out Vessel Board Search Seizure (VBSS) operations to detain and search any ships suspected of carrying illegal oil, weapons or terrorists through the Gulf. I joined the Navy right out of High School from rural Louisburg, Kansas. At age 22, I had seen over twenty foreign ports, had spent my twenty-first birthday in New York City for Fleet Week and climbed the ranks to Second Class Firecontrolman in the Combat Guns (CG03) Division. I entered the Navy on September 11, 1997, Exactly four years to the exact date on my six-year enlistment. That day I was faced with the decision re-enlisting for another two years for a $30,000 tax free bonus or get out after my initial six (FYI-While in a combat zone your bonuses are tax free, Uncle Sam won’t touch it.) I had waited till the last moment to decide about my re-enlistment because I was so weary of the Navy. I absolutely hated my homeport Norfolk, Virginia (a.k.a "NoF--k, Vagina") and that morning, I decided that if I could get a Sea Swap and head over to San Diego, California, I would sign up for that cash money bonus.
I learned at morning muster that the navy approved my sea-swap request and that my re-enlistment ceremony would be held later that morning. We held a quick and quiet ceremony in our divisional office to have me sign over another two years of my life. I vividly recall the hustle and around me because there was word of an oiler that was suspected of smuggling oil out of Iraq. We were preparing a boarding team to intercept. I had the afternoon watch in combat and passed the rest of the morning running maintenance on my system while mentally spending my $30,000 bonus.
Now remember, we were about seven hours ahead of the United States and so when the attack on the twin towers came at 9:00am EST, it was approximately suppertime for our crew. The boarding party was still on the Iraqi Vessel and I was standing watch in Combat Information Control (CIC). I operated the Close In Weapon System (CIWS). CIWS is a six-barreled Gatling gun that fires 20mm depleted uranium rounds at surface and air-targets at a rate of 75 rounds a second or 4,500 bullets a minute. This baby has a built-in Search and Track Radar system. IT ROCKS! It was my duty to watch the CIWS radar screen for any potential targets or inbound missiles to the ship. Since this never happened I recall I was most likely playing tic-tac-toe with my fellow watch stander.
It all started when one of the crypto techs came out from behind their “black curtain” to announce that a message was received. In a loud voice he told the Weapons Officer that New York had just been attacked. With the absence of a radio or television, and only minimal service for internet, word spread throughout CIC and the ship that first New York City had been attacked, and then Washington and then that New York had been nuked and was rubble. Right at the height of all this confusion, panic and fear we got word back from our team leader on the VBSS team that the crew members on the Iraqi Oiler were shouting and cheering to something going out over their radio.
The team leader asked for instructions and our Tactical Actions Officer (TAO) ordered them back to the ship. No sooner had he given the order than the sound of BONG! BONG! BONG! Came blaring through the ship for General Quarters. I waited for my relief then raced up the decks and into my gun mount. We aimed all our small arms (50’ caliber machineguns, 25mm Deck Guns) at the oiler and told them to f--k off! The captain ordered us to full steam and we were to join the main battle group and await further orders.
It was all surreal; we had only just visited New York, Boston and Baltimore last year for Fleet Week. We had family and friends there. Washington was a stone’s throw away from Norfolk, Virginia and I had friends in the fleet still serving there. No further information had been released to the crew and for two to three hours we thought the east coast had been attacked by nuclear weapons, that all the cities of our government were in rubble and that we were going straight into battle. To keep our minds and hands busy, my division was pouring out our ammo boxes around the mount getting them ready to fire and reload as necessary. That’s when the captain came on…. We were steaming at 20 knots towards GOD knows where, it was dusk and you could see nothing but the ocean and fading sun.
I don’t recall the exact words our captain used but we were essentially told that New York and Washington had been attacked by a group unknown. The towers had fallen and we were most likely now about to go to war and that this is what we had trained and volunteered for. We were to meet up with the rest or our carrier group and await further orders. The internet and telephones were secured and if we needed to check on our families we could reach the chaplain or ombudsman who could get a message out and back for us. The captain put our ship in a media blackout in anticipation of what was to come. The blackout lasted one month.
For thirty days we steamed at sea getting letters from our families about what was going on and trying to get the latest news/information from our Crypto Techs. For thirty days my entire ship was united with one common goal, “To destroy the f--kin people responsible for this!” It was all we talked about at chow, all we talked about on watch.
“Dude, do you really think you can kill someone?” “If they are a terrorist, I think so…yeah!” “What will you do if you’re on watch when we have to launch the missile?” “I will do what is asked of me.” “What if it goes off-course or kills civilians or something?” “Ours is not to reason why…ours is but to do and die.”
About a month later in October, 2001, in what was called “Enduring Freedom,” we were ordered to unload our entire payload of about ninety missiles into Afghanistan against some radical group called the Taliban. The McFaul was the second ship to fire in line and this was the initial phase of the operation. Everyone... and I mean everyone... even the poor suckers that were supposed to be on watch or in engineering, were up on deck awaiting the launching of those missiles. I remember it was nighttime and we were all lined up with five or six other destroyers awaiting the final GO. The bells and alarms RANG out, the hatch doors opened and WHOOOOSH!! the first missile ever launched in war from my ship went sailing off into the sky. I remember watching the bright orange glow as it ascended skyward. When my eyes adjusted I saw multiple other glows in the distance as the other ships had launched their payloads. We stayed there for two weeks firing missiles into the sky, close to 90 missiles were fired before we turned home.
Yeah, I remember 9/11/2001, it was not only the day our nation was attacked but the day I re-enlisted in the United States Navy… and I’m damn glad I did!
FC2 (SW) Wells
Onboard a Guided Missile Destroyer on September 11th 2001.
I was serving on-board the Guided Missile Destroyer, the USS McFaul DDG74, which was doing operations in the Gulf of Oman. The McFaul was tasked with carrying out Vessel Board Search Seizure (VBSS) operations to detain and search any ships suspected of carrying illegal oil, weapons or terrorists through the Gulf. I joined the Navy right out of High School from rural Louisburg, Kansas. At age 22, I had seen over twenty foreign ports, had spent my twenty-first birthday in New York City for Fleet Week and climbed the ranks to Second Class Firecontrolman in the Combat Guns (CG03) Division. I entered the Navy on September 11, 1997, Exactly four years to the exact date on my six-year enlistment. That day I was faced with the decision re-enlisting for another two years for a $30,000 tax free bonus or get out after my initial six (FYI-While in a combat zone your bonuses are tax free, Uncle Sam won’t touch it.) I had waited till the last moment to decide about my re-enlistment because I was so weary of the Navy. I absolutely hated my homeport Norfolk, Virginia (a.k.a "NoF--k, Vagina") and that morning, I decided that if I could get a Sea Swap and head over to San Diego, California, I would sign up for that cash money bonus.
I learned at morning muster that the navy approved my sea-swap request and that my re-enlistment ceremony would be held later that morning. We held a quick and quiet ceremony in our divisional office to have me sign over another two years of my life. I vividly recall the hustle and around me because there was word of an oiler that was suspected of smuggling oil out of Iraq. We were preparing a boarding team to intercept. I had the afternoon watch in combat and passed the rest of the morning running maintenance on my system while mentally spending my $30,000 bonus.
Now remember, we were about seven hours ahead of the United States and so when the attack on the twin towers came at 9:00am EST, it was approximately suppertime for our crew. The boarding party was still on the Iraqi Vessel and I was standing watch in Combat Information Control (CIC). I operated the Close In Weapon System (CIWS). CIWS is a six-barreled Gatling gun that fires 20mm depleted uranium rounds at surface and air-targets at a rate of 75 rounds a second or 4,500 bullets a minute. This baby has a built-in Search and Track Radar system. IT ROCKS! It was my duty to watch the CIWS radar screen for any potential targets or inbound missiles to the ship. Since this never happened I recall I was most likely playing tic-tac-toe with my fellow watch stander.
It all started when one of the crypto techs came out from behind their “black curtain” to announce that a message was received. In a loud voice he told the Weapons Officer that New York had just been attacked. With the absence of a radio or television, and only minimal service for internet, word spread throughout CIC and the ship that first New York City had been attacked, and then Washington and then that New York had been nuked and was rubble. Right at the height of all this confusion, panic and fear we got word back from our team leader on the VBSS team that the crew members on the Iraqi Oiler were shouting and cheering to something going out over their radio.
The team leader asked for instructions and our Tactical Actions Officer (TAO) ordered them back to the ship. No sooner had he given the order than the sound of BONG! BONG! BONG! Came blaring through the ship for General Quarters. I waited for my relief then raced up the decks and into my gun mount. We aimed all our small arms (50’ caliber machineguns, 25mm Deck Guns) at the oiler and told them to f--k off! The captain ordered us to full steam and we were to join the main battle group and await further orders.
It was all surreal; we had only just visited New York, Boston and Baltimore last year for Fleet Week. We had family and friends there. Washington was a stone’s throw away from Norfolk, Virginia and I had friends in the fleet still serving there. No further information had been released to the crew and for two to three hours we thought the east coast had been attacked by nuclear weapons, that all the cities of our government were in rubble and that we were going straight into battle. To keep our minds and hands busy, my division was pouring out our ammo boxes around the mount getting them ready to fire and reload as necessary. That’s when the captain came on…. We were steaming at 20 knots towards GOD knows where, it was dusk and you could see nothing but the ocean and fading sun.
I don’t recall the exact words our captain used but we were essentially told that New York and Washington had been attacked by a group unknown. The towers had fallen and we were most likely now about to go to war and that this is what we had trained and volunteered for. We were to meet up with the rest or our carrier group and await further orders. The internet and telephones were secured and if we needed to check on our families we could reach the chaplain or ombudsman who could get a message out and back for us. The captain put our ship in a media blackout in anticipation of what was to come. The blackout lasted one month.
For thirty days we steamed at sea getting letters from our families about what was going on and trying to get the latest news/information from our Crypto Techs. For thirty days my entire ship was united with one common goal, “To destroy the f--kin people responsible for this!” It was all we talked about at chow, all we talked about on watch.
“Dude, do you really think you can kill someone?” “If they are a terrorist, I think so…yeah!” “What will you do if you’re on watch when we have to launch the missile?” “I will do what is asked of me.” “What if it goes off-course or kills civilians or something?” “Ours is not to reason why…ours is but to do and die.”
About a month later in October, 2001, in what was called “Enduring Freedom,” we were ordered to unload our entire payload of about ninety missiles into Afghanistan against some radical group called the Taliban. The McFaul was the second ship to fire in line and this was the initial phase of the operation. Everyone... and I mean everyone... even the poor suckers that were supposed to be on watch or in engineering, were up on deck awaiting the launching of those missiles. I remember it was nighttime and we were all lined up with five or six other destroyers awaiting the final GO. The bells and alarms RANG out, the hatch doors opened and WHOOOOSH!! the first missile ever launched in war from my ship went sailing off into the sky. I remember watching the bright orange glow as it ascended skyward. When my eyes adjusted I saw multiple other glows in the distance as the other ships had launched their payloads. We stayed there for two weeks firing missiles into the sky, close to 90 missiles were fired before we turned home.
Yeah, I remember 9/11/2001, it was not only the day our nation was attacked but the day I re-enlisted in the United States Navy… and I’m damn glad I did!
FC2 (SW) Wells