Today is Stephen Decatur's Birthday. If you don't know who he was, Stephen Decatur was a naval officer during the early days of our nation. He is also one of my personal heroes. Here is a story about a little part of his distinguished career.
Early
in Thomas Jefferson's presidency, he saw little utility in the United
States having expeditionary warfare capability or a blue water navy. In
fact, Jefferson thought the existence of either would invite war
instead of preventing it. But the fledgling Navy was already on station
in the Mediterranean and its leadership was determined to prove the new
president wrong – and in time, it would.
At
the turn of the 19th century, Muslim pirates backed by tribal leaders and
warlords controlled the maritime approaches from the Atlantic Ocean into
the Med and the North African littorals. It was customary for European
navies to pay "tribute" to these sea-going thugs in order to guarantee
safe passage – a custom that the American Navy refused to abide by
because it violated international law (and it lacked the resources to pay). As a result, the United States found itself at war with the Barbary States, today known as Libya.
In
October of 1803, the American warship Philadelphia was patrolling near
the African coast when it ran aground on an uncharted reef. The ship was
captured by the Tripolians and the crew members were imprisoned. The
loss of this combatant vessel seriously reduced the U.S. Navy's
Mediterranean force and had the potential to increase the enemy's
seagoing offensive power.
Ultimately,
Tripoli lacked the resources needed to operate the captured frigate,
but that wasn't obvious to the Americans, so Commodore Edward Preble
began planning a contingency operation to eliminate the emerging threat.
The idea of recapturing the Philadelphia in Tripoli's well-fortified
harbor was ruled not doable, but her destruction – by burning – appeared
feasible. Heavy losses were possible but deemed acceptable, considering
the importance of the mission.
Lt Stephen Decatur |
With
a crew taken from Enterprise and the flagship Constitution (old
Ironsides) plus a Sicilian pilot who was familiar with Tripoli harbor,
Decatur sailed from Syracuse on February 3, 1804. Storms kept Intrepid
at sea for nearly two weeks and her crew was forced to endure crowded
conditions, poor food, and generally filthy surroundings.
Finally
arriving after the hard passage, Decatur and his crew of volunteers
slipped into Tripoli harbor. The brash lieutenant kept all but a few of
his men below decks to maintain Intrepid's appearance as a local trading
vessel. They sailed along slowly and, claiming to have lost the ship's
anchors, requested permission to tie up alongside the Philadelphia.
Their request was granted.
But
the ruse was unveiled as the two vessels came close and an alarm cry
rang out. Decatur immediately ordered his men to board, and the sailors'
swift action gave the enemy guards no time to organize resistance. Most
of the guards jumped overboard and swam ashore Those that stayed to
fight were cut down in a short and bloody action, while the American
raiders prepared to burn their prize.
Less
than twenty minutes later, Philadelphia was blazing brightly. Casting
off just ahead of the flames, the Intrepid's men rowed out of the now
well-lighted harbor under intense musketry and cannon fire. The
operation was a complete success: The Philadelphia burned to the
waterline and sank; none of the raiders was killed and only one was
injured.
Decatur's
actions that day and throughout his career saw him to rise to the rank
of commodore and made him a national hero and celebrity (and one of my
personal hero's). But the same sense of honor that informed his courage
and leadership later proved to be his undoing. He was mortally wounded
in a duel with fellow Navy officer James Barron over an official court
martial finding as a result of Barron's conduct in battle. The wounded
Decatur was taken from the dueling ground in Maryland to his home in
Washington D.C., where he died 12 hours later surrounded by his family
and congressmen who rushed from the Capitol to his side after hearing of
the shooting.
Naval
historians are divided on where Decatur fits among the nation's
seagoing heroes, and in many ways he is hidden in the long shadow cast
by the "father of the American Navy," John Paul Jones. But 213 years ago, Decatur led what British Admiral Horatio Lord Nelson called "the most bold and daring act of the age"
– high praise indeed from the master of naval warfare -and an act which
helped establish the reputation of the United States Navy as a fighting
force to be respected.
Today's Reflection:
"-To her we drink; for her we pray; Our voices silent never; For her we'll fight, come what may; The Stars and Stripes Forever!"
-Stephen Decatur
Live Long and Prosper...
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