November 12, 1943 Curse of the Willy Dee

We’ve all experienced that “oh shit” moment. Words you wish you hadn’t said. The text or email you wish you could unsend. Take heart. You will never be that sailor who accidentally fired a live torpedo. At the president of the United States.

The ships’ convoy was small and fast, built for secrecy and bound for a series of strategic conferences in Cairo and Tehran. Lead vessel in the flotilla was the battleship USS Iowa, accompanied by two escort carriers and three destroyers. With barely four months in service, one of those was the USS William D. Porter, known to the sailors who served aboard her decks as the “Willy Dee”.

Black-and-white photograph of three men seated outdoors, including a uniformed military officer and a man in a white suit holding hats.
Chinese Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek, US President Franklin Delano Roosevelt, and British Prime Minister Winston Churchill at the Sextant Conference, 25 November 1943. Hat tip National Archives

If sailors are a superstitious lot, perhaps it is for good reason. With barely four months since her christening, Willy Dee was about to be known as the unluckiest ship in the United States Navy.

On November 12, 1943, the Porter departed Charleston to rendezvous with the fleet departing Norfolk. On board the flagship USS Iowa were President of the United States Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Secretary of State Cordell Hull and the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

Black-and-white photo of naval officers and officials aboard a warship beneath large gun turrets.

Problems began even while leaving port. Willy Dee improperly raised an anchor, tearing off a railing and lifeboat mount from another destroyer, alongside.

On the 13th, an explosion caused the entire fleet to take evasive maneuvers from German submarines lurking below. But no. There was no submarine. Willy Dee had accidentally dropped a depth charge.

Not long after, a great wave swept her decks washing a sailor overboard, and to his death. A boiler flooded, forcing repairs

On the afternoon of the 14th, President Roosevelt requested a demonstration of Iowa’s anti-aircraft capabilities. Balloons were released for the purpose, most of which were shot down by the battleship’s gunners. Some that “got away” were shot down by other vessels, including USS William D. Porter.

Gray naval warship sailing past a tree-lined waterfront with mountains in the background.
The U.S. Navy destroyer USS William D. Porter (DD-579) in Massacre Bay, Attu, Aleutian Islands, 9 June 1944. US Navy Photo

Escort vessels now commenced a torpedo demonstration. That’s when the whole thing went off the rails. The simulated release of a torpedo requires that a launch primer be disarmed. Porter “fired” one, then two. So far so good. But nobody had disarmed #3.

Oops.

A fully armed torpedo was now in the water and closing fast on the president of the United States. Not only the chief executive but virtually every senior military staff member then in charge of the war was on that boat, including Secretary of State Cordell Hull, Chief of Staff Admiral William D. Leahy, Chief of Staff of the Army General George C. Marshall, Chief of Naval Operations Ernest King, Commanding General of the U.S. Army Air Forces Henry “Hap” Arnold, Secretary of Commerce Harry Hopkins and other high ranking officials.

Gun shy about breaking radio silence after the depth charge incident, frantic messages were sent via signal light, resulting in the unlikely misunderstanding that Porter was backing up at full speed.

With the situation rapidly going from bad to worse, Porter at last broke radio silence, communicating the situation as it was. President Roosevelt asked his secret service detail to wheel his chair to the rail. He wanted to watch.

Iowa turned hard. The torpedo exploded harmlessly some 3,000 feet astern of the battleship. The whole episode took less than 5 minutes.

Black-and-white aerial view of a naval destroyer sailing through calm ocean waters.

Porter was ordered to Bermuda for investigation of the “assassination plot” against the president. In the end, torpedoman Lawton Dawson was court-martialed and sentenced to 14 years hard labor. President Roosevelt gave the man a full pardon. No harm, no foul.

The William D. Porter served without incident for most of 1944, but that no longer mattered. For the rest of her days left afloat other vessels would hail the Willy Dee “Don’t shoot, we’re Republicans!”

Black-and-white photo of naval vessels underway, with patrol boat 86 alongside a larger ship numbered 579.
“Damaged William D. Porter listing heavily. Landing Craft Support ships LCS(L)(3)-86 and LCS(L)(3)-122 (behind) are assisting:. – H/T Wikipedia

Willy Dee met her final stroke of bad luck at the battle of Okinawa, managing to shoot down a kamikaze who then exploded – directly beneath her hull. Not a single sailor was lost, but this was the end for DD-579. Three hours later she rolled and sank by the stern. Willy Dee, unluckiest ship in the American Navy, was no more.