At approximately 2112, l heard the horrible sound of grinding metal and my first thought was that we had collided with another ship. I immediately opened my stateroom door and headed for Damage Control (DC) Central. Within a fraction of a second I knew we were in trouble. I smelled missile exhaust and heard over the 1MC, “inbound missile, port side… all hands brace for shock!” Then general quarters (GQ) sounded and I saw the crew move faster than they ever had before.
The first missile had slammed into the ship under the port bridge wing, about eight feet above the waterline. It’s speed at impact was more than 600 miles per hour. The warhead did not explode, but the missile did deposit several hundred pounds of burning rocket propellant as it passed through passageways, berthing compartments, the barbershop, post office, and chief petty officer quarters. And although we did not know it at the time, the missile still had most of its fuel on board, since it had traveled only 22 miles from me launching aircraft to our ship.
The potent mix of the missile’s fuel and oxidizer resulted in fires hotter than 3,500° Fahrenheit that instantly ignited all combustibles and melted structural materials. This temperature was nearly double the 1,800° normally considered the upper limit in shipboard fires.
About 30 seconds later, the second missile struck the Stark eight feet forward of the first missile’s point of impact. It traveled only five feet into the skin of the ship and then exploded with a tremendous roar. Later analysis determined that the damage, while significant, was not as great as might have been expected because a large portion of the blast’s effect was vented away from the interior of the ship, creating a huge, gaping hole in the process. This reflects the results of the ship’s strong Damage Control preparation.
Within minutes, nearly one-fifth of the crew had been killed and many others had been overcome by smoke, bums, and shrapnel wounds. The remaining crewmembers had a monumental task ahead of them, yet they plunged ahead.
I witnessed countless acts of heroism throughout the night: Electronics Technician Third Class Wayne R. Weaver II sacrificed his own life to assist many crewmembers to safety from the primary missile blast zone. Seaman Mark R. Caoutte, despite severe burns, shrapnel wounds and the loss of one leg, continued to set Zebra in an area being consumed by fire. Gunner's Mate Third Class Mark Samples risked his life for 12 hours, spraying cooling water inside the ship’s missile magazine. Had it exploded, the Stark would have gone to the bottom.
Thanks to the intensive first-aid training given to the crew, Mess Management Specialist Second Class Francis Burke was directly responsible for resuscitating many smoke inhalation cases. Many other heroic acts were performed, but they all had a common thread: In each of these cases, the crewmembers acted correctly, using their training to solve a complex casualty.