The fate of the Allies rests in the hands of eccentric British Navy Captain George Hardy. Regarded as a madman by some, and viewed as a genius in naval warfare by those who serve with him, Hardy leads his ragtag fleet of warships into a deadly match of wits and wills against the determined Kern and his untested U-boats. Under cover of the ocean, the deadliest of enemies are about to engage their final battle…. Welcome to HuntersAndTheHunted.Com, the Cyberspace Home of author: Steven Wilson.

Large Slow Target
by Steven Wilson, 2005

ARTICLE ORIGINALLY APPEARED AT MILITARY.COM, February 21, 2007

Having been removed from the Continent by German forces, the British and assorted Allies were anxious to return and seek what revenge they could. Most of the British army’s big guns, trucks, and other supplies littered the beaches at Dunkirk, so it wasn’t until sometime later that an effort of any consequence could be launched against what was rapidly becoming “Fortress Europe.” A raid (for there certainly wasn’t enough behind it to be called an invasion), was launched against the French coastal town of Dieppe. This “reconnaissance in force” took place on August 19, 1942 and involved British, Canadian, and American forces. Just eighty days before the invasion of North Africa, the ill-conceived assault against the French coast was, adjudged a victory. This after the tally for Canadian losses alone amounted to 3,350 killed, wounded and missing, out of an invasion force of 5,000. Cracking the German wall around the continent was not going to be easy and it was going to take more than brute strength to make any attack a success.

That stuff that lay rusting on the sands at Dunkirk could have been off-loaded and carried back to England, had there been the means to do so. In the past men and supplies had moved from ship to shore and return on barges, whaleboats, beached hulks, and whatever else was handy, but there was no specially designed ship to move the men, beans and bullets from the invasion fleets to the beachheads. Winston Churchill sent a memorandum to his minister of supply that included the query, “What is being done about designing and planning vessels to transport tanks across the sea for a British attack on enemy countries?” At that point very little was being done except to modify three tankers so that they could carry and discharge tanks on the beaches. The idea was sound even if the application left a lot to be desired. The Americans were approached with the need for these shallow-draft tank carriers and by November 1941 by John Niedermair of the Bureau of Ships delivered drawings for what would latter become Landing Ship Tanks; or for those 125 men who sailed them into danger, “Large Slow Target.” This vessel was to be both oceangoing and capable of being beached to unload her cargo—that is, she was to be a hybrid. Such beasts don’t often work well in one or the other proposed environment, let alone both, but Niedermair’s novel approach offered a solution. LST’s would have a ballast system that allowed them to take on water for ocean travel (riding deeper in the seas the vessel would be stable), and then discharge that water to radically lessen her draft so that she could be easily beached on her flat bottom. The draft of this 328-foot long ship was 14 feet, 4 inches aft and 8 feet forward fully loaded when she was ballasted for sea-going operations. When she got down to business that changed to a remarkable 2 feet 4 inches forward when she dug her blunt nose into the beach. She displaced 1,780 tons and could carry about 2,100 tons of men and materials. A typical load could be 18 Sherman tanks, 160 combat-ready troops and an LCT (Landing Craft Tank) or LCVPs (Landing Craft Vehicle Personnel).

So the LSTs could get the tanks to the beaches, but how does one get them unloaded? The basic design that rendered those three British tankers so interesting was applied to the new vessels. Huge doors that opened to 14 feet were built into the bow with a ramp behind them that served to offload tanks from the tank deck. The LST beached herself, the door rumbled open, the ramp dropped, and the tanks rolled off. Lighter-weight vehicles were stowed on the main deck with access to the tank deck by ramp or elevator. The replacement of the elevator and the strengthening of the main deck were the most significant modifications. That does not preclude the inventive nature by which these ships were adapted for combat or support usage. During Operation Husky, the invasion of Sicily, LST 386, commanded by Lieutenant Harold R. Fleck saw service as “a combination of floating stable, midget aircraft carrier, anchor for a floating causeway—and, incidentally, Landing Ship Tank.” LSTs were used as hospital ships, headquarters ships, “mother ships,” and rocket ships.

Going armed into hostile waters is what a warship is all about, but in the case of the LSTs, armed was a relative term. When commissioned, most of the vessels carried a 3” cannon, and one 40 mm and six 20 mm anti-aircraft guns. As the war progressed it was decided to beef up the ship’s firepower, so the number of 20 mm and 40 mm guns was increased. The ships also carried a variety of rifles, submachine guns and hand grenades for the unlikely, (but not unexpected) close combat with the enemy. Not formidable weapons, but the LSTs duty was to deliver the goods, not engage in combat. The “slow” in Large Slow Target was because her two diesel engines drove the box-like vessel through the water at about 11 knots top speed, with a cruising speed of 9 knots. High-speed maneuvering in the face of an attack by enemy aircraft was unlikely.

The crews on these ships were a mixed bag of sea-wise and just plain green. Lieutenant Fleck was a 47-year old “retread” from World War I. LST 352 was commanded by Lieutenant Joseph Kahers, Jr., USNR, and a lawyer from New Jersey. He was lucky enough to have a bosun with 23 years in the navy, and a chief with 18 years. His luck ran out after that. The rest of his 115-man crew included plumbers, bookkeepers, a bartender, and a professional roller skater. It was the navy’s training, the ship’s ability, and the crew’s dedication that kept LST 352 and her sisters, making nearly a dozen trips to and from the beaches at Salerno. Credit should also be given to the ship’s dog who had excellent taste; described as a semi-fox terrier, he loved onions and oranges and hated officers.

While they were slow and ugly, LSTs did exactly what they were intended to do--carry men and materials to the beach. In Europe the likelihood of finding a port ready to receive an invading army’s supplies was a sight better (although the Germans and Italians did a fine job of wrecking most ports before abandoning them) than the Pacific. What the army and marines wanted were isolated, primitive islands scattered like marbles across a playground sandbox. These islands were unlikely to have any harbor facilities at all, and if they did, they were better suited to the occasional tramp steamer than to the needs of an invading army. Here the LST’s nuzzled up to the beaches, disgorged their loads and returned for more. There are several very telling aerial photographs taken of lines of LSTs, their blunt snouts nestled against the shore, columns of men and vehicles streaming over the beaches.

If comparisons were to be made it would be appropriate to liken LSTs to C-47s or C-130s. The ships, like the aircraft, are hardly glamorous or intimidating. They were to the thousands of soldiers who fought their way ashore, a God-send.

Steven Wilson / HuntersAndTheHunted.Com E-Mail: readermail@HuntersAndTheHunted.Com