Dibb, Robert Allan Murray, LCDR

Memories
While the ship recovered from the damage inflicted by the dive-bombing attack, her speed dropped to six knots; and then-at 1440, about 20 minutes after the bomb hit that had shut down most of the boilers-York- town slowed to a stop, dead in the water.

At about 1540, Yorktown prepared to get underway again; and, at 1550, the engine room force reported that they were ready to make 20 knots or better. The ship was not yet out of the fight.

Simultaneously, with the fires controlled sufficiently to warrant the resumption of fueling operations, Yorktown began fueling the gasoline tanks of the fighters then on deck. Fueling had just commenced when the ship's radar picked up an incoming air group at a distance of 33 miles away. While the ship prepared for battle-again smothering gasoline systems and stopping the fueling of the planes on her flight deck-she vectored four of the six fighters of the CAP in the air to intercept the incoming raiders. Of the 10 fighters on board, eight had as much as 23 gallons of fuel in their tanks. They accordingly were launched as the remaining pair of fighters of the CAP headed out to intercept the Japanese planes.

At 1600, Yorktown churned forward, making 20 knots. The fighters she had launched and vectored out to intercept had meanwhile made contact, Yorktown received reports that the planes were "Kates." The Wildcats downed at least three of the attacking torpedo planes, but the rest began their approach in the teeth of a heavy antiaircraft barrage from the carrier and her escorts.
Yorktown maneuvered radically, avoiding at least two torpedoes before two "fish" tore into her port side within minutes of each other. The first hit at 1620. The carrier had been mortally wounded; she lost power and went dead in the water with a jammed rudder and an increasing list to port.

As the list progressed, Comdr. C. E. Aldrich, the damage control officer, reported from central station that, without power, controlling the flooding looked impossible. The engineering officer, Lt. Comdr. J. F. Delaney, soon reported that all fires were out; all power was lost; and. worse yet, it was impossible to correct the list. Faced with that situation, Capt. Buckmaster ordered Aldrich, Delaney, and their men to secure and lay up on deck to put on life jackets.

The list, meanwhile, continued to increase. When it reached 26 degrees, Buckmaster and Aldrich agreed that the ship's capsizing was only a matter of minutes. "In order to save as many of the ship's company as possible," the captain wrote later, he "ordered the ship to be abandoned."

Over the minutes that ensued, the crew left ship, lowering the wounded to life rafts and striking out for the nearby destroyers and cruisers to be picked up by boats from those ships. After the evacuation of all wounded, the executive officer, Comdr. I. D. Wiltsie, left the ship down a line on the starboard side. Capt. Buckmaster, meanwhile, toured the ship for one last time, inspecting her to see if any men remained. After finding no "live personnel," Buckmaster lowered himself into the water by means of a line over the stern. By that point, water was lapping the port side of the hangar deck.

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Picked up by the destroyer Hammann (DD-412), Buckmaster was transferred to Astoria (CA-34) soon thereafter and reported to Rear Admiral Fletcher, who had shifted his flag to the heavy cruiser after the first dive-bombing attack. The two men agreed that a salvage party should attempt to save the ship since she had stubbornly remained afloat despite the heavy list and imminent danger of capsizing.

Interestingly enough, while the efforts to save Yorktown had been proceeding apace, her planes were still in action, joining those from Enterprise in striking the last Japanese carrier-Hiryu-late that afternoon. Taking four direct hits, the Japanese flattop was soon helpless. She was abandoned by her crew and left to drift out of control and manned only by her dead. Yorktown had been avenged.

Yorktown, as it turned out, floated through the night; two men were still alive on board her-one attracted attention by firing a machine gun that was heard by the sole attending destroyer, Hughes. The escort picked up the men, one of whom later died.

Meanwhile, Buckmaster had selected 29 officers and 141 men to return to the ship in an attempt to save her. Five destroyers formed an antisubmarine screen while the salvage party boarded the listing carrier, the fire in the rag storage still smoldering on the morning of the 6th. Vireo (AT-144), summoned from Pearl and Hermes Reef, soon commenced towing the ship. Progress, though, was painfully slow.

Yorktown's repair party went on board with a carefully predetermined plan of action to be carried out by men from each department-damage control, gunnery air engineering, navigation, communication, supply and medical. To assist in the work, Lt. Comdr. Arnold E. True brought his ship, Hammann, alongside to starboard, aft, furnishing pumps and electric power.

By mid-afternoon, it looked as if the gamble to save the ship was paying off. The process of reducing topside weight was
proceeding well-one 5-inch gun had been dropped over the side, and a second was ready to be cast loose; planes had been pushed over the side; the submersible pumps (powered by electricity provided by Hammann) had pumped out considerable quantities of water from the engineering spaces. The efforts of the salvage crew had reduced the list about two degrees.

Unbeknownst to Yorktown and the six nearby destroyers the Japanese submarine I-158 had achieved a favorable firing position. Remarkably-but perhaps understandable in light of the debris and wreckage in the water in the vicinity-none of the destroyers picked up the approaching I-boat. Suddenly, at 1536, lookouts spotted a salvo of four torpedoes churning toward the ship from the starboard beam.

Hammann went to general quarters, a 20-millimeter gun going into action in an attempt to explode the "fish" in the water. One torpedo hit Hammann-her screws churning the water beneath her fantail as she tried to get underway-directly amidships and broke her back. The destroyer jackknifed and went down rapidly.
Approximately a minute after Hammann's stern disappeared beneath the waves, an explosion rumbled up from the depths-possibly caused by the destroyer's depth charges going off. The blast killed many of Hammann's and a few of Yorktown's men who had been thrown into the water. The concussion battered the already-damaged carrier's hull and caused tremendous shocks that carried away Yorktown's auxiliary generator, sent numerous fixtures from the hangar deck overhead crashing to the deck below; sheared rivets in the starboard leg of the foremast; and threw men in every direction, causing broken bones and several minor injuries.

Prospects for immediate resumption of salvage work looked grim, since all destroyers immediately commenced searches for the enemy submarine (which escaped) and commenced rescuing men from Hammann and Yorktown. Capt. Buckmaster decided to postpone further attempts at salvage until the following day.

Vireo cut the towline and doubled back to Yorktown to pick up survivors, taking on board many men of the salvage crew while picking up men from the water. The little ship endured a terrific pounding from the larger ship but nevertheless stayed alongside to carry out her rescue mission. Later, while on board the tug, Capt. Buckmaster conducted a burial service, two officers and an enlisted man from Hammann were committed to the deep.

The second attempt at salvage, however, would never be made. Throughout the night of the 6th and into the morning of the 7th, Yorktown remained stubbornly afloat. By 0530 on the 7th, however, the men in the ships nearby noted that the carrier's list was rapidly increasing to port. As if tired, thXevalXiant flattop turned over at 0701 on her port side and sank in 3,000 fathoms of water, her battle flags flying.

Yorktown (CV-5) earned three battle stars for her World War II service; two of them being for the significant part she had played in stopping Japanese expansion and turning the tide of the war at Coral Sea and at Midway.