On
June 8, 1967, a foreign nation launched a surprise
75-minute air and sea attack on an American naval
ship, the USS Liberty, in international waters.
The United States was not at war in the region.
Ultimately, 34 men died, and 172 were wounded. The
American government opted to bury the assault for
diplomatic favor and assuage a foreign nation's
vanity following the attack.
The
USS Liberty story epitomizes bravery and beating
the odds. It is the kind of story Hollywood loves,
and Hollywood tried to tell the Liberty's story in
the mid-1980s. Interests benefiting from silence
threatened participants in the film with
blacklisting, effectively shutting it down. One
gruesome threat arrived via a decapitated cat
thrown on a survivor's front porch. The
intimidation of the survivors and producers of the
Liberty feature film exemplifies why it is
difficult to speak about the attack and why most
Americans do not know about it.
THE ATTACK
On
June 8, 1967, the USS Liberty sailed quietly in
the eastern Mediterranean, going about its
business monitoring events in the region. It was a
perfect late spring day, and the ship was in
international waters, well away from the shore.
Preceding
the ambush, the crew felt safe, having observed up
to nine reconnaissance flights by the Israeli air
force, in marked planes, over the ship throughout
the morning. Israel was currently in combat with
Egypt and Syria, but the Liberty was outside the
territorial waters of the combatants. On its mast
hung a giant ceremonial American flag (20 by 38
feet, six by 11.5 meters). Israel was and
continues to be an ally of the United States; the
Israelis were watching out for them, the crew
thought. The US was not at war in the region, and
the ship, lightly armed, was no threat.
With
lunch concluded and the galley cleared, several
off-duty crewmen were sunbathing on the main deck.
Suddenly, at 14:00 hours, unmarked fighter jets
descended upon the ship and attacked. Under fire,
the communications room frantically called for
help using both military and international
civilian maritime frequencies, only to discover
their communications were jammed. Jamming civilian
frequencies violates international law, and only
an ally might know the Liberty's top-secret
military frequencies. Yet, both were jammed. The
Liberty found itself alone, without comms, and
fighting for its life against an unknown enemy.
The nearest American aircraft carrier was 500
miles (805 km) away.
The
jets attacking were modern, fast, and agile; the
Liberty's crew could see this much. But who was
shooting, and why? Was it the USSR or another
state actor with an advanced air force? Nobody on
the Liberty knew, nor would they know for most of
the 75-minute strike. The attacker concealed the
identifying markings on their planes, making them
ghost planes, unknown. Three military ships, as
yet unidentified, were spotted approaching quickly
on the horizon.
The
crew of the Liberty scrambled to hold the ship
together, destroying sensitive documents and
attending to the wounded as bullets and napalm
engulfed the deck. The ship's armaments were
useless, designed to repel boarders, not a
sustained air and sea attack. The Liberty was not
a warship; it was an intelligence ship. One of the
first targets hit in the attack was its primary
gun, and both gunnery technicians died instantly.
THE REVEAL
An
hour into the assault, the crew discovered their
attacker's identity, the air and naval forces of
the state of Israel. The markings on the nearest
warship became visible. One of the Liberty's
officers noted its Star of David as he witnessed
it using its deck guns to shoot the crewmen
attempting to launch the lifeboats (a war crime).
The gunfire rendered the dinghies unusable,
trapping the Liberty's crew on the ship.
Ultimately, the Israeli navy fired five torpedoes
at the American ship. Four missed, but one hit the
Liberty mid-ship, punching a 45 ft (13.7 meters)
hole in its side and killing at least twenty
instantly. The vessel was taking on water fast.
Israeli
forces were close to sinking the ship when Israeli
command intercepted communications confirming the
American Air Force was on its way (the Liberty
crew jury-rigged a radio and finally got a call
out). The Israeli attack boats and planes
retreated. Some minutes later, a helicopter
appeared to check on the ship. The note dropped
from the aircraft landed in a bundle beside a
severed leg on the main deck, and the Liberty's
captain picked it up.
"Do
you have any casualties?" it asked cheekily.
Reading
it, Captain McGonagle paused, looked up, and
presented the hovering airship with a pronounced,
sustained, and defiantly blatant bird (middle
finger). Upon receiving the message, the
helicopter slithered back to its base. McGonagle
and the crew went to work navigating the severely
listing ship to safe harbor, six days away in
Malta. The rescue never arrived. On the orders of
US Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara, the US
government pulled the rescue jets back once they
confirmed who was attacking. The attack was over,
but the drama was just beginning for the
survivors.
Within
hours of their arrival in Malta, US intelligence
forbade the survivors from telling their stories.
Years later, Lt. James Ennes, who was on the
bridge of the USS Liberty during the attack,
defied the gag order. He authored the first book
on the attack, published in 1980, Assault on the
Liberty.
The US
government's handling of the atrocity, including
calling back the rescue planes upon confirmation
that Israel was the belligerent, is unprecedented
in US military history.
A TRAGIC CASE OF MISIDENTIFICATION...
The
state of Israel said it misidentified the USS
Liberty, believing it to be a civilian Egyptian
freighter. Accepting this premise requires factual
gymnastics.