According to President Trump, it’s going to be up to the U. S. Navy to keep the sea lanes open and the oil tankers steaming freely through the Strait of Hormuz. Although it’s roughly 9,000 nautical miles from Hattiesburg to the Persian Gulf, we will soon feel the effects of the Iranian conflict at the gas pumps, as around twenty percent, or 18-21 million barrels per day, of the world’s oil flows through the Strait. In fact, I noticed about a 25 cent per gallon increase in the price of gas when I filled up my Mini Cooper today.
I’ve been through the Strait several times, on both small and large ships, transiting the Suez Canal and in and out of our naval base at Bahrain; and the Strait reminds me of what you see when you look at the harbor at Gulfport. To the uninitiated, it looks like ships there have the wide expanse of the Gulf to maneuver around. In reality, the channel is only 36 feet deep, about 400 wide in most sections, and running about out about 10 miles through the barrier islands. It’s the same idea with the Strait. While it is about 100 miles long, sharing coasts with both Iran and Oman and eventually connecting the Persian Gulf with the Mediterranean Sea via the Suez Canal, it is only about 21 miles across at its widest point.
Like Gulfport, the Strait is confined, and there’s not much room to maneuver a large ship. The problem is that there’s only two shipping lanes, each about two miles wide and connected by a two-mile buffer zone. With an average of around 120 vessels passing through the Strait each day, you can see why it’s referred to as a “choke zone.” Iran’s major seaport, Bandar Abbas, is easily visible when you pass through the Strait. I once bought a “camel saddle” there, which is a small unholstered footstool now sitting in my library.
It is extremely hot in the Persian Gulf. I don’t know if things have changed but, back in my day, Bahrain was the only place I knew of where white shorts and long socks were part of the official uniform. Manama, the capital, was the headquarters for the U. S. Fifth Fleet, and the flagship for many years, the USS La Salle (AGF-3) was the only major ship in the Navy painted white. Obviously, this was to help deal with the extreme desert heat. When I taught at Sumrall High School, I was “volunteered” to drive a school bus for six years, and it was my ambition to be assigned a cooler bus with its top painted white, but I was too low on the totem pole and had to sweat it out like all the other peon bus drivers with yellow tops.
I just heard Mr. Trump say on TV that our Navy would have no problem escorting oil tankers through the Strait, and that we had already “wiped out” the Iranian Navy, sinking twenty of their ships. Unfortunately, Iran’s Navy strategists chose not to focus on large capital ships; rather, its formidable Navy consists of literally hundreds of small, fast, hard to see on radar, attack boats which all carry ship-to-ship missiles capable of sinking our ships or, in the case of oil tankers, causing a fiery conflagration. In other words, the Iranian Navy “punches far above its weight.” You might think that Iran is like the little dog who loves to bark at the big dog – until somebody leaves the gate open – but when you consider the narrow confines of the Strait, and the fact that the speed boats would probably attack our escorting vessels “en masse,” it could turn into a nightmare. Plus, being so close to their shores, they could saturate the Strait with ship-sinking mines. Our destroyers, especially the newer Arleigh Burke class, many of which were constructed at Pascagoula, have enough armament and computer power (Aegis Combat System) to handle many threats at one time; but, as we have seen in Israel the last few days, the Iranians have fired so many missiles at once that even the vaunted “Iron Dome” missile defense system has been occasionally penetrated. We saw in the Falklands what such ship-borne missiles could do to English and Argentine ships.
There is a misnomer that Iran’s plethora of missiles was purchased with the “basketfuls of money” gratuitously sent to Iran by the Obama administration in 2015. That is not true. Here’s what happened. It was a three-step process. Under the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA), also known popularly as the “Iran Nuclear Deal,” the United States and the European Union agree to lift economic sanctions and give Iran access to over $1 billion dollars of its own money in exchange for agreeing to curtail its nuclear program. Separately, the United States agreed to return over $400 million dollars to Iran which the Shah of Iran had paid for several ships which we never delivered. We also paid about $1.3 billion in interest which we owed on the shipbuilding funds that we had been holding.
There is an interesting back story to those undelivered ships. If it had worked out for the Shah before he was deposed, the U. S. Navy might not be needed in the Strait of Hormuz today. He wanted to have the dominant naval force in the Persian Gulf, and he would have been if things had gone his way. The most important of several ships built for the Shah of Iran during the middle 1980s, but not delivered after the Iranian Revolution, were four ultra-modern destroyers, known in our Navy circles as the “Kidd” class. They were the most advanced warships we had at the time and featured such “luxuries” as extra air conditioning, dust filters for the Persian Gulf environment, and extra water making evaporators.
We ended up taking the four destroyers, after renaming them USS Kidd (DDG-993), USS Callaghan (DDG-994), etc. into our own Navy. They served well for about ten years before being sold to Taiwan. I can remember all kinds of rumors about them – especially one that they had gold fixtures in the heads (bathrooms), but that was not true. We sailors jokingly referred to the four ships as the “Ayatollah” class.
Although I served on the first ship to develop ship-to air missiles in the early 1960s (USS Springfield (CLG-7), a Cleveland class light cruiser converted to a guided missile test platform), I’ve never been on one that fired them in anger. Over the years, however, I did experience several hostile “brush-up’s” of note. Consistent with my knack of being at the wrong place at the right time, I was:
- On the only Navy ship to make a daylight raid on Haiphong harbor during the Vietnam War.
- On a ship hit by enemy shells while doing close in gunfire support off North Vietnam.
- On the only ship attacked by MIG jet fighter planes during the Vietnam War
- On the only ship to hit a mine in the war; although, it did turn out to be one of ours.
Based on those experiences, although I realize “that was then and this is now,” I do feel somewhat qualified to describe the typical day of an enlisted man or woman onboard one of our ships in the Iranian task force. You must remember, however, if you are onboard the USS Ford, one of our two aircraft carriers in the area, you have already been deployed for over eight months since leaving Norfolk on 24 June, 2025. Several of the “small boys” (destroyers) in company with her have also been away from homeport that long. Since I managed to avoid carrier duty during my twenty plus years at sea, let’s look at something I’m familiar with – a typical day at sea in the life of a destroyer sailor in the combat zone.
Although it’s been a while, I can still remember what was on my mind during my eight years of underway watch standing as an enlisted man: more sleep, the next meal, and the mail. Mail was a non-starter for me as I never received any, but I was always hopeful. After you’ve been underway for a while, and the most I ever went without stepping on land was 266 days, it becomes hard to tell one day from another. If you are in electronic surveillance, like I was, you are shut up in the bowels of the ship, with the electronic gear, and never see daylight. You’ve heard of “getting your sea legs?” Well, when you’ve been at sea as long as some of the Ford sailors have, you must “get your land legs” when you finally step ashore.
Reveille, sounded on his pipe by the boatswain’s mate (“Reveille, Reveille, all hands heave out and trice up, the smoking lamp is lighted in all berthing spaces Now, Reveille!”) generally comes at 0530, especially when the ship is running port and starboard watches (8 hours on, 8 hours off); then it’s time for breakfast (scrambled eggs, ham, bacon, toast, coffee, and sometimes oatmeal or grits). Depending on how long it’s been since you went alongside a “reefer” (refrigerator ship), there might be some fresh fruit.
Next on the agenda, around 0800, for those not on watch, is “Quarters,” where the “Plan of the Day” is read, routine tasks are assigned, and everyone is reminded to remain vigilant to attack by small boats in the Strait and to stay close to their General Quarters or Battle Station.
I can’t pass up “Sweepers,” which can be announced at any time of the day (“Now sweepers, man your brooms. Give the ship a clean sweep down, fore and aft. Dump all trash over the fantail.”), because before I made rank, I spent my off-duty hours as a maid. Since the Navy has gone “Green,” I seriously doubt that any trash is dumped at sea anymore.
Everyone then spends the day, except for lunch around noon, doing their assigned tasks, sleeping before going on watch, or on watch. After the evening meal, the watch will rotate, and those coming duty off will write a letter, watch a movie, take a shower, or attend to other personal matters. Most will just fall into their bunks, exhausted. At 2200, or 10 pm, the boatswain on the bridge will announce: “Now Taps, taps, lights out in all berthing spaces. The smoking lamp is out. Now taps!” When I was on the Battleship New Jersey BB-62), all such announcements would be prefaced by the appropriate bugle call, which drove everyone crazy. I didn’t personally steal it, but I seem to have that same bugle in my “trophy” case.
Around 2345 (or 1145 pm) when the watch is changing, the mess deck serves “midnight rations,” affectionately referred to as “Midrats.” This usually consists of whatever was left over from the evening meal, supplemented by hamburgers, hot dogs, and Kool aide. At any time during the above evolutions, whether the crew was asleep or on duty, “General Quarters” might be sounded upon the appearance of some outside threat, and everyone would head to their battle stations. When on battle stations, the standard meal is sandwiches.
The next day, everyone gets up and does it all over again.
Last week, one of my favorite actors, Robert DuVall, passed away at the ripe old age of 95. Although I enjoyed all his movies, I particularly related to films where he depicted a military character – “Mash” (1970), “The Great Santani” (1979), “Apocalypse Now” (1979), etc. I suppose it’s an odd way of thinking, but I would have loved to see him in a movie he never acted in and that was never made: “The Things They Carried.” This is a collection of linked short stories (1990) by Tim O’Brien, an infantry officer and platoon leader in the Vietnam War. I often taught it in my college literature classes. A movie version has been in development for years. The premise is that you can tell a lot about a person by what they carry. Have your friend empty their pockets or purse sometime and see what I mean.
In O’Brien’s stories, the soldiers carry the things that are dear and important to them: lucky charms, photographs, memories of home, and often - fear. Some of these things are in their pockets, and some are in their minds. Thinking of those young sailors about to defend the tankers in the Strait of Hormuz, as well as dealing with the missiles flying overhead, it strikes me that they are carrying many of the same things. I seriously doubt they are worried about strategy, geopolitics, or even the price of gas in their hometowns. Rather, they are carrying pictures, rings, thoughts of home, of loved ones, and a resolve that they will do their jobs when called upon.
Light a candle for me.
Benny Hornsby, a resident of Oak Grove, is a retired U.S. Navy captain. Write him at villefranche60@yahoo.com or visit bennyhornsby.com.
