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The Cover-Up Begins: The USS Liberty
Posted by crescentandcross
We took one last look at our beautiful Sixth Fleet rescue ships, the massive USS America standing out above the rest. All of a sudden, we heard ‘Hip, hip, hooray! Hip, hip, hooray! Hip, hip, hooray!’ from the thousands of our brother sailors and marines aboard the USS America. That beautiful sound echoed across the water and bounced off our crippled ship and it sent chills up my spine. It was the final goodbye from our brothers as we limped along at about 4 to 5 knots to Malta. We soon lost sight of our rescue ships and we were all alone except for the USS Papago trailing behind us, scouring the vast ocean for debris and the remains of our dead, 25 of which were still entombed inside our ship. There was a great deal of reverence and sadness in our hearts, knowing our mates were under our feet in a watery grave. I felt guilty for being alive, wondering why I wasn’t one of the dead. I also felt very blessed to be alive. Why were we spared and others died? Only God knows.
This was a very busy time for those of us who stayed with the ship and there was no time to rest. We had our work cut out for us making sure the Liberty did not take on water. We constantly had to check the shoring that was keeping the bulkheads from bursting and flooding our ship. It was checked every hour by the sounding and security watch, which was my watch along with others in damage control.
The shoring was like a small “v” on the deck that I had to crawl through each hour that I was on watch. I had to crawl through the very small opening with a battle lantern light, checking the cracks in the bulkheads to see if they were getting larger. The sea water was dripping in from the cracks.
It was terrifying for me to crawl in there, because on the other side of that bulkhead was the sea and an incalculable amount of awful, awesome, untamable power. It was like sitting right next to an atomic bomb as it was ticking, and all I could think about was the bulkheads bursting with me down there and how I would dead like my shipmates a few feet away. There was no room to move around, just enough to crawl in and out. Despite the fact I did this too many times to count it never got any easier–the terror for me was always the same and soon enough I knew every crack in the bulkheads by heart. I could tell in an instant if one had gotten bigger and how much sea water was leaking in. To this day, I am very claustrophobic and can’t stand to be in small spaces.
On Sunday, Admiral Isaac Kidd came aboard our ship from the destroyer ‘USS Barry’ with his entourage. He made his way around the ship, first talking to the officers then working his way down the chain of command to the lowest-ranking crewmen still on board. I was very happy to see him come aboard because I knew it was only a matter of time until my turn came to tell him my story about what I had seen. The word was passed to sit tight and be patient, that the admiral wants to talk to everyone with no exceptions. I was on the bridge and saw the admiral several times, including passing him in the passage way. He barely knew I was there as I stood at attention whenever I was around him. You could tell he demanded a great deal of respect and he got it. He was a very intimidating figure and I knew this from other crew members already debriefed by him. I thought maybe he wasn’t going to interview me because it seemed like forever before he got to me.
Then my turn came with those ominous words, as if they came from God Himself. ‘Tourney - report to sick bay. Admiral Kidd wants to talk to you.’ I hurried to my berthing compartment to put on the best set of dungarees I had left and put on my spit-shined shoes out of respect for the admiral. I got to sick bay and requested permission to enter. Permission was given and my heart started to pound, not just because it was the Admiral but because I knew I was part of something big. After all, a United States ship had been attacked and there was no way America was going to take it lying down like some sissy. We never did. Nobody messed with America and got away with it. Pearl Harbor was only about 25 years earlier and look at what we did to the Japanese as a result of that sneak attack.
When I entered I saw no admiral. The only thing there were several more sailors. All of a sudden a roar came out of one of the sailors mouths like it had come form a lion–ATTENTION ON DECK. We all snapped to attention and in a straight line, stiff as an ironing board, just as we had been trained to do.
The admiral spoke–“At ease, men. Relax, I need to talk to you about the attack on your ship. I am conducting a report for Admiral McCain and I need your full cooperation to get this story right.”
The admiral took the stars off of his lapel and tossed them onto the stainless steel table. They bounced and came to rest. I noticed right away that they landed with the stars up. I thought to myself that you couldn’t get that to happen again if you tried all day.
He barked out his request, “I want you men to understand, I’m not an admiral. I am just like you. There is no rank in this room. I want you to talk to me as if you were talking to each other. Do you understand?”
I thought to myself, ‘Hey, this guy is pretty cool.’ At that moment he was more like an uncle than a father, certainly an authority figure but also your friend. I felt very comfortable with him and my mind was at ease, thinking that I could open up to him and tell him anything. I did not want to leave out anything I had to tell him and I was glad to let it all out. He asked us all in the group the same questions.
‘Did you know who was attacking you? How long was the attack? Did you see life rafts being shot at? Did you see any markings on the airplanes or torpedo boats? Was our flag flying?’
We all opened up our hearts and told him what we had seen and how brutal the Israelis were to us. We asked why help did not come to us. We asked why a destroyer escort was denied us and on and on we asked questions. When he asked us if we had anything else to say I felt like I had vented all I could to him. I told him that I had said all I can remember but would be happy to talk again if he wanted me to.
Then the admiral put on his stars. He stood straight up and firmly said to us
‘I am now an admiral again and I want you to listen to me very closely. If you ever repeat what you have just told me to anyone, I don’t care if its your mother, another shipmate, anyone, I will make sure you end up in prison…
…and then, to accentuate how serious he was, he ended with
‘…or worse…’
…And we all knew what ‘worse’ meant.
I was stunned into silence. I had just been gang-raped, first by the government of Israel when they butchered us and now by an admiral of the US Navy for telling the truth. It seemed to me he wished we hadn’t saved our ship and that we wound up at the bottom of the ocean. He never once said ‘Good job, men,’
NOTHING. NOTHING. NOTHING.
He got his way that day, as he put the fear of God in me and I did not speak a word about the Liberty for 20 years. I was too afraid to.
Our country abandoned us then and they are still abandoning us today. There is no honor in these men. None. They are traitors of the worse kind and make Benedict Arnold look like a patriot.
We were silent for a long time, but not anymore. The crew of the Liberty say loud and clear for everyone to hear–just like when General Quarters were called the minute the attack began that day–that the truth will overcome the lies and surrounding this act of war by the US Government and by the State of Israel. No one, NO ONE should be allowed to murder and commit war crimes and get by with it, not even Israel and not even America.
Forty years later, I now know why they didn’t send us to the Island of Crete, (only a few days away) rather than Malta, which took five–There wouldn’t have been enough time for them to scare the crew into silence.
But today is a different day than was yesterday. Like the Americans who swarmed on the British like hornets as America’s enemies burned the town of Concord in 1775, we will not take it anymore. Not one inch, not one ounce. Not one millimeter. This is our country, the place where we and our loved ones and friends live and we will not disown or dishonor it for anyone, and especially not for a foreign country that has attacked us on many occasions. It is 1775 and the Minutemen have heard the call and are grabbing their muskets and powder horns and we will not finish until it is all done, and like what happened at Lexington Green over 200 years ago, this is the shot heard round the world.
2008 by Phil Tourney
Survivor of the Israeli Attack on the USS Liberty taking place June 8, 1967 off the coast of Gaza in international waters
***Look for the upcoming book published by American Free Press entitled ‘In Their Own Words…The Survivors Of the USS Liberty Speak Out’ soon to be published by American Free Press newspaper