Give Me a Fast Ship: The Continental Navy and America’s Revolution at Sea

By Tim McGrath. NAL Caliber, 532 pages, $26.95.

Reviewed by Jules Wagman

For the nautically inclined, here’s a book that‘s fun!

Give Me a Fast Ship is less a history of the birth of the U.S. Navy at the outbreak of the Revolution than it is a rousing collection of tales describing battles against the British, the Continental Congress, and amongst rival captains.

Philadelphia author Tim McGrath is a storyteller writ large, putting together in (occasionally) nautical language the origins of the Navy, how it struggled against costs the Continental Congress could not meet, as well as losses to the British which could not be replaced.

Philadelphia was the capital of the infant nation, its biggest city and its financial center. Philadelphian Robert Morris, who headed Congress’s Marine Committee, provided one of his ships, the Black Prince, as the Navy’s first ship, renamed the Alfred.

McGrath relates the cruises of most of the original captains along with their jockeying for a good ship and choice assignments that is always attendant upon such endeavors.

John Paul Jones (of “I have not yet begun to fight” fame) gets his due, though it turns out that he is not as accomplished as several other captains, aside from being something of a scoundrel (murder). It was Jones’s luck to parlay his aggressiveness into a victory in 1779 over the British frigate Serapis in full view of terrified Yorkshire residents on shore.

Jones acquired his ship, Bonhomme Richard, through Benjamin Franklin, who represented the U.S. in Paris. Jones named the ship, a converted East Indiaman, in honor of Franklin’s Poor Richard’s Almanac.

Jones’s battle was part of his second cruise around Great Britain, during which he  terrorized the inhabitants and seizied ships and cargoes as prizes. After the battle, the Continental Congress had no funds to pay him or his crew. Discouraged, Jones went to Russia where he became an admiral in Catherine the Great’s navy.

He died in France in 1792. During Theodore Roosevelt’s presidency, his body was exhumed and brought to the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis, Md., where it was eventually entombed in the Academy chapel in 1913.

McGrath also devotes considerable space to John Barry. As the first commissioned officer of the U.S. Navy, he commanded the brig Lexington in the first battle between American and British ships, defeating the British tender Edward.

Barry also fought on shore with George Washington at Trenton and Princeton in 1776 and 1777. As the Revolutionary War ended, he was commodore aboard the USS Alliance. He fought and won the war’s last battle between American and British ships in March 1783, off Cape Canaveral, Fla.

Naval warfare in the days of sail was a matter of chase as well and cat-and-mouse in an effort to “cross the T” and smash the enemy with a broadside, leaving him able to respond by firing only his bow or stern guns. A major cause of wounds among sailors were splinters sent flying by cannon balls smashing wood decks, masts, spars and bulkheads. Sharpshooters high up on platforms surrounding the masts fired down onto enemy decks.

Muzzle-loaded cannon and muskets meant there was down time between volleys and shots. Training concentrated on shortening that time. At the start of the Revolution, the Americans were not very speedy and suffered accordingly.

McGrath explains the details of 18th century navies with a deft pen and a decidedly nautical viewpoint. This is a delight to read.

Jules Wagman has been reviewing books since 1966.

©2014 by Jules L. Wagman

 

D-Day: From Conception to Bloody Omaha Beach

The Dead and Those About to Die: D-Day: The Big Red One at Omaha Beach, by John C. McManus. NAL Caliber, 400 pages, $27.95.
Neptune: The Allied Invasion of Europe and the D-Day Landings, by Craig Symonds. Oxford, 464 pages, $29.95

Reviewed by Jules L. Wagman

Here are two books to satisfy any Overlord (70 years ago, June 6) aficionado. Neptune relates the planning and preparation for the invasion and continues with a fine summary of D-Day as well as the early days following until the capture of the port of Cherbourg at the end of June.

The Dead and Those About to Die describes the landing of the First Infantry Division on Omaha Beach and the terrible battle it had until small units were able to move off the beach before nightfall. The book combines after-action military reports, interviews, letters, and memoirs into a cohesive and coherent relating of events that illuminates the stress and fog of battle.

Robert Capa's iconic photo of the D-Day invasion. Two new books will satisfy any Overlord aficionado.

Robert Capa’s iconic photo of the D-Day invasion. Two new books will satisfy any Overlord aficionado.

Neptune is a balanced, measured study of what was required to turn the idea of an invasion into reality. Active planning began in March 1943, but Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower was not named invasion commander until December, after the bulk of the planning was done.

Historians John C. McManus and Craig L. Symonds both have published many books on World War II, including several on Overlord.

McManus took the title for his book from Col. George Taylor, commander of the 16th Infantry Regiment leading the assault on Omaha Beach. Ignoring withering fire, Taylor strode the beach, exhorting his men: “Only two kinds of people are going to be on this beach, the dead and those who are going to die. Now get moving!”

The invasion timetable began to come apart even before the first boats hit the beach. Weather delayed the invasion one day and so the later tide forced the landings to start half an hour later. But nothing else could be delayed with the result that demolition teams had less time to clear mines and obstacles, with horrifying consequences.

McManus says the naval bombardment intended to soften up German defensive positions overshot their targets and the aerial attack bombed the wrong places. Only five of the 32 tanks designed to navigate on canvas floats reached the beach through the rough water. Unlike the other beaches, high bluffs at Omaha favored the defenders.

Infantrymen carried 60 pounds of equipment, impeding their movements. A post-action report said, “It was the feeling of the men that their losses would have been cut in half had their loads been cut likewise.”

The generally weak German defenders were augmented by a crack division which, unknown to the Allies, happened to be training there. “There was no supporting fire on the beach defenses at all when the company landed.”

The first invasion wave was all but pinned down, most radio equipment was lost in the landings, and there was no clear way off the beach. Even so, men and equipment continued to pour in, increasing congestion—and the tide rolled in, inexorably shortening the beach.

“[T]he dearth of functioning radios was a major reason why the initial waves at Omaha beach were so badly bogged down—commanders were out of communication and this created confusion, ignorance and inertia,” McManus writes. He quotes a GI to describe the carnage: “All I could see of him were three hunks of his body flying through the air.”

Symonds writes in Neptune that by 8:30 a.m. First Division Commander Gen. Clarence Huebner felt the situation was dire. Gen. Omar Bradley, commander of the American Army, “gained the impression that our forces had suffered an irreversible catastrophe,” though troops on the other beaches were advancing.

Around 9 a.m. the naval destroyers which led the original landings were ordered back to the beach to shell the heights. More than a dozen responded and, Symonds continues, the destroyers “over the ensuing 90 minutes…turned the tide of battle on Omaha Beach.”

Their shelling silenced most strong points. By 11:30 a.m., Germans were beginning to surrender. After the war Bradley wrote, “[T]he Navy saved our hides.” Troops on Omaha Beach were able to move up the gullies, gain the high ground and mop up the German strong points.

McManus’s book is the more exciting—and gory. Symonds takes a quieter approach, but he spices his narrative with sharp asides and comments.

Jules Wagman has been reviewing books since 1966.

©2014 by Jules L. Wagman