‘A gigantic inferno’: 50 years later, Marysville vet recalls warship collision

MARYSVILLE — It was midnight, but the light was bright as day.

“It was pitch black behind us, but in front it was glowing red and fire and yellow,” Navy veteran and Marysville resident Roger Sharp told The Herald. Fifty years ago, he was 22 years old and on board the USS Belknap, as an electronic warfare technician, when it collided with the USS John F. Kennedy in the Ionian Sea. It was 12 years to the day after President Kennedy’s assassination.

Nov. 22, 1975, the Kennedy aircraft carrier’s overhanging flight deck shredded the Belknap, a guided missile cruiser. Its superstructure was sheared off, and the carrier’s refueling lines were ruptured.

Thousands of gallons of jet fuel poured onto the Belknap, ignited by newly exposed wires, and turned into “raining liquid fire,” Sharp recalled.

“It was a gigantic inferno and you could feel the radiant heat right away. It was tremendous,” he said.

At the time, naval war technology was advancing. The weighty electronic instruments that facilitated radar and sonar created potentially top-heavy ships. Aluminum became a popular construction material above the main deck to reduce overall weight. However, aluminum was much more flammable than steel.

“It did melt. They didn’t anticipate that,” Sharp said.

Just before the two ships collided, Sharp was in the mess hall watching a movie, he said. His quarters were located directly in the center of the superstructure. He has a picture of himself standing in the wreckage where he would have been if he had already gone to bed.

As he watched the movie, Sharp felt the ship turn and the engines try to pull it in reverse. The Belknap was attempting to dodge the Kennedy. He felt the collision and heard an explosion — the movie turned off.

“Immediately, it was smoke down below,” Sharp said.

Fire outside blocked the usual route to the deck. Down below, smoke pushed Sharp and the other sailors toward the bow. Through a hatch, they made it outside and saw the fire in its entirety for the first time.

“The sound, too,” Sharp said. “There was a lot of guys around that were screaming. And to watch the aluminum melt…”

Some of the men on the tower jumped into the water as the fire rained down on them, he said. “But I figured, there is no way I’m going to go in the water, because you know, without a flashlight, how are they going to find you?”

Knowing something needed to be done, his group rigged hoses to douse the fire, but the pumps weren’t working. The fuel had poured into the engine room, causing the earlier explosion and completely shutting down power.

Eventually, two other boats in the area — the USS Claude V. Ricketts and USS Bordelon — aided in the fight against the fire. However, stormy seas and exploding ammunition made it difficult for the ships to get close.

“I thought at the time at the fire, if it got to the missile launch area, I’d be willing to go in,” Sharp said about jumping in the water.

While standing on the bow, the group of sailors felt the boat listing, he said.

“We didn’t know the integrity of the hull at that time, so a couple of us got together,” Sharp said.

They acquired breathing support devices, went back below deck and worked their way through almost two feet of water to set watertight conditions — closing all the doors and the hatches.

Outside, the open air and rain subdued the heat somewhat. Inside, there was no protection.

“The metal roof above radiated heat, and smoke filled the air,” Sharp said. He described the ceiling as “red-hot.”

Eventually, the group passed by the engine room, where a few sailors had not survived the explosion.

“We picked them up, put them on a mess deck table,” Sharp said, “and worked our way back out.”

Once back on deck, much of the night was spent helping the wounded, Sharp said. When the waters allowed, he helped burn victims traverse the gaps between the Belknap and either of the supporting vessels. Seven Belknap sailors and one on the Kennedy lost their lives; 48 were injured.

It took six hours to extinguish the flames and the ship remained afloat.

“I stayed on board through the entire time,” Sharp said.

As the sun rose, the Belknap was towed to Sicily, Italy.

In Norfolk, Virginia, Roger’s wife Gina Sharp — also 22 — was watching the news at a friend’s apartment and saw a report about the collision. She was five months pregnant with their second child.

“I didn’t know if he was alive or dead,” she said. “I didn’t want to look out the window because if I didn’t, the black car with the navy chaplain would not come to my apartment.”

After two days, Gina heard Roger’s voice on the phone for the first time around 5 a.m. The feeling of relief was overwhelming, she said.

The tow to Sicily took two days. Roger stayed with the boat while it was in port. Over time, he had the Belknap crew sign a photo of the ship. It is now covered in more than 200 signatures.

“I saw so much bravery everywhere. It was amazing to me,” Sharp said. “We just did our job. We kept doing it. That’s a great thing to say. The crew is outstanding.”

Eventually, he flew home just before Christmas and took one month’s leave.

A year later, he received a special commendation, as did all the members who ensured the ship was watertight.

“Petty Officer Second Class Sharp displayed exceptional professionalism and stamina in his dedicated efforts throughout the crisis,” the commendation reads.

He served for six years in the Navy.

Afterward, he and Gina moved to Spokane, where Roger grew up, and lived there for 40 years. Over time, their kids moved to western Washington, so they followed suit and have lived in Marysville for three years. They have four children and three grandchildren.

The Belknap eventually made its way to Philadelphia where it was rebuilt and returned to service.

Most of the blame was put on the Belknap’s officer of the deck, who was in command when there was confusion over an order he gave to redirect the ship’s trajectory. The commanding officer took over command just before the collision. He was acquitted on all charges.

The Belknap was decommissioned in 1995. In 1998, it was used for target practice, sunk and became an artificial reef.

By 1987, the use of aluminum in warship construction had mostly been retired. However, in the 2000s, some ships transitioned back to aluminum, reflecting priorities for evasion and counter-detection over the ability to absorb and survive direct hits. This was, again, mostly short-lived. The Navy is now experimenting with composite materials, such as carbon fiber, for its future warships.

Roger finds it slightly strange that he is considered a war veteran, even though he didn’t go to Vietnam during his time in the Navy.

However, “I’m always proud to tell this part of my adventure,” he said. “I’m honored to be a Navy veteran.”

Taylor Scott Richmond: 425-339-3046; taylor.richmond@heraldnet.com; X: @BTayOkay