Fire Articles

Reference note: See Stability and Dewatering article

Capable of serving nearly two thousand passengers with a crew of over 1300, she was the pride of the French fleet. Her exciting rivalry with the Queen Mary captured imaginations on both sides of the Atlantic. The Normandie was a 1027 foot luxury-liner that had a top speed of more than 32 knots and her quadruple screwed, turbo-electric power plant could generate up to 160,000 horse power. The Normandie sailed away with the mythical "blue ribbon of the Atlantic" for the best crossing time on three different occasions.

The worldwide monetary crisis deepened in the early 1930's, causing the number of ship passengers to decline. Nevertheless, a confident French government invested over 58 million dollars to construct the luxury liner. New York City, eager to remain the major U.S. seaport, also spent millions on piers. In order to accommodate the ship, piers had to project over 325 feet farther into the Manhattan shore front, and the West Side Highway was elevated to directly connect with the second stories of the piers.

As the sumptuous ship cut steadily through the ocean; her passengers enjoyed lavish amenities. Movie stars, royalty and the wealthy joined the average person on the trans-Atlantic voyages.

As the political climate in Europe was coming to a boil, the Normandie pulled into New York harbor on August 28, 1939, after her 139th Atlantic crossing. Ships crossing the Atlantic were being sunk in alarming numbers by German U-Boats. On August 30, the Normandie's next crossing was cancelled. A few days later, the last ocean liner left from Europe, and it became apparent that the

Normandie's layover could be for several years. Fourteen barrels of camphor were wheeled on board and the ship was literally "moth-balled" to protect the expensive carpets.

After the invasion of France, the new "Vichy" government began to collaborate with Germany. To prevent possible sabotage, President Roosevelt ordered the Coast Guard to board the liner on May 14, 1941, and place it under "protective custody." Then on December 12, five days after Pearl Harbor was attacked and the United States entered the war, the U.S. Coast Guard took official possession of the linger at the direction of the president. The ship would be assigned to the Navy and would be renamed the U.S.S. Lafayette, in honor of the french hero who aided the Americans during the Revolutionary War.

The ship was converted into a convoy loaded transport, and on December 23rd work began. Thousands of workers began stripping the ship of her elaborate furnishings. More than two million dollars worth would be removed during the renovations, including the gold-leaf letters spelling her name across the bow.

On January 9, 1942, an early morning fire destroyed Municipal Pier 83 and two buildings at 43rd Street and the North River (Hudson). The five alarm fire, only blocks from the Normandie, taxed the department's resources as 44 pieces of apparatus and three fire boats were needed to extinguish the fire. This was the third major blaze along the waterfront that winter. At first it was believed to be sabotage, but was later proven to be accidental. Nearby the Normandie, her faded civilian colors covered with grey camouflage paint and weapons added to her decks, hummed with activity. Unhampered by the dense smoke in the area, the conversion continued.

Realizing the severe fire hazard the waterfront presented, and its possible impact on the war effort, the FDNY took preventative action. During the first week of February, the Fire Commissioner, Patrick Walsh, announced that a new piece of fire equipment would be added to the department's arsenal. Hose relay apparatus #1, a converted hook and ladder truck carrying over a half mile of hose, would be placed in service on February 11th. This unique truck would be housed in the quarters of Engine Company 7, on Duane Street.

The U.S. Navy delivered 1 140 bales of life preservers to the Normandie. These were placed on board and stored in the main salon on the promenade deck. Each bale contained 10 life jackets made of kapok, a highly flammable cotton-like fiber. The bales were wrapped in moisture-proof paper with burlap covering.

As work started on the morning of February 9, 1942, everyone was discussing that day's newspaper stories. General MacArthur and his men were battling an overwhelming Japanese force on the Philippine peninsula of Bataan. There were also reports of the sinking of yet another ship off the Atlantic coast. The U-Boats had taken 15 allied ships since January 14th. The war was becoming very real... and very near.

Over 2 700 men; sailors, coast guardsmen, and numerous workers were on board the Normandie that day. This was the most people who had ever been on the ship at one time. By the afternoon, the work in the promenade deck's main lounge was nearing completion. Two more metal light stanchions had to be cut down with torches and removed. It was about 2:35 P.M. when sparks from the cutting operation ignited a nearby pile of life preservers. What happened next was best described by the NFPA report, "... the early stages of the fire has elements of Hollywood slapstick comedy."

The workers attempted to beat out the flames bare-handed; extinguishers failed to work, and a pail of water was spilled before it reached the fire. In desperation they began to throw the burning bales around, spreading the flames. A hose was connected to the standpipe; water was started, but despite all efforts the fire raged uncontrolled.

Due to another series of errors, the alarm to the fire department was delayed for between 10 and 15 minutes. At 2:49 P.M., Box 852 was transmitted, sending four engines, two ladders, one fireboat and two battalion chiefs to the scene. First due Engine Company 2 raced from their quarters on West 43rd Street, and arrived in less than two minutes. The officer went to ascertain the location of the fire as the men began to hook up the 1930 Mack "Bulldog" pumper to the standpipe system.

The ship's loudspeakers warned those on board of the fire, and workers began to make their way to safety. The only fatality occurred early in the fire when an explosion hurled a worker from a ladder and he fell from one deck to another. Men were streaming from the gangways; others with no available retreat, were forced to the bow. Ladder Company 4 was directed to place their truck on the West Side Highway and quickly placed the 85 foot aerial ladder to the bow of the burning ship. More than 150 men escaped over the ladder.

Battalion 9 had quickly transmitted a 75 signal (all hands working) at 3:00 P.M., then transmitted a second alarm one minute later. The fire swept across the upper decks of the ship, as hand-lines were dragged into place. The standpipe connections were unusable due to incompatible threads, and hoses had to be stretched from the pumpers, down the pier, then up the gangways to the various decks. Sailors were invaluable in the fire fighting efforts, helping stretch and man the lines as they were operated. The first water on the fire was actually from the fireboat James Duane, Engine 85, who had steamed up the ice strewn river from her berth at 35th Street and the Hudson and approached the blazing ship with her monitors charged.

Fire fighters, sailors and workers were joining forces and rescuing those trapped below decks. Assistant Chief John McCarthy arrived, assumed command and transmitted a third alarm. Communications from the ship to those on the shore were proving difficult and navy ingenuity again prevailed. Sailors using semaphore signals, called for increased water pressure on the attack lines, and also directed additional hose-line placement. Other important information was also relayed via flags during the course of the fire. With the flames out of control, a fourth alarm was placed at 3:12 P.M.

Thick plumes of dense black smoke were pouring out of the ship and were driven across midtown by 25 mph winds. Workers, sailors and fire fighters staggered in the blinding smoke. Nearby Pier 92, the American home of the Queen Mary, was opened as a field hospital. The boilers on board the Normandie ran out of steam at about 3:15 P.M. This stopped the drainage pumps from removing excess water and soon a list to port became apparent and extra hawser lines were added in an attempt to keep the ship upright.

At this point, three fire boats and numerous tugs were pumping a tremendous amount of water onto the ship trying to stop the roaring fire. As many as 40 hand-lines were being operated, most on the ship, some from vantage points such as the roof of the pier building.

Fire Fighter Barclay McKeough of Ladder 21, who was detailed to the first due pumper Engine 2, recalls the difficulty faced by hose teams on the ship. "We operated up a staircase with the line. We would take turns, work in relays." They continued this for a good portion of the fire, taking turns at the nozzle and being wet down with a protection line. "Where we were we faced more heat than smoke, but the others had it really bad with the thick smoke.

Captain Clayton Simmons USN, who was one of the few naval officers familiar with the Normandie, began to express his fears to officials at the scene. The list was becoming more pronounced, and the officer feared the ship might capsize. Admiral Andrews of the Third Naval District, who was summoned from his office in downtown Manhattan, asked Commissioner Walsh, who was also Chief of Department, to stop pouring water onto the ship. Walsh stated that the fire was still out of control, and would rather risk the loss of the ship than the possible destruction of the adjacent piers with a large spreading fire. The naval officials reluctantly agreed.

Attempts were made to control the accumulating water. Captain Simmons knew the only way to keep the ship from rolling was to scuttle her. This means to let water into the ship in order to sink her. Using the sea cocks would be too difficult as there were 29 in all, and they had to be opened at the same time, so he decided to attempt to pull the condenser plates from the engine room, which would have the same effect. Two attempts to reach the engine room through the smoke and heat filled ship proved impossible, and the effort was abandoned.

The fire department then began to relieve the water condition on their own. Members of Rescue 1 were lowered down the port side of the ship in bosuns' chairs and, using torches, they attempted to cut holes through the steel plating to allow the water to run out. Only a few small holes could be made on this side of the ship as the escaping water put out the torches' flame. The rescue men were then lowered on the starboard (pier) side of the ship and a large hole was cut above the water line. Engine Company 44 was pulled up close to the ship and used hard suction in an attempt to pump water from the lower portions of the ship. It was an inventive idea, but it did little to help the situation and was soon discontinued.

Fire fighting continued, and at about 6:30 P.M., though the Normandie was still burning, it was placed under control. More than four million gallons of water had been used to subdue the flames. Operations on board the ship continued, with many hand-lines still fighting pockets of fire as the fireboats backed off into the ice-filled river.

At 12:22 A.M., the ship had listed to 15 degrees, and it was decided to abandon ship. All personnel from both the navy and fire department left the ship, and the chief ordered hose-lines cut with axes, as it was too dangerous to attempt their retrieval.

When the tide went out, Captain Simmons' worst fears were realized. At 2:45 A.M., the ship keeled over on her side. Twelve hours after the start of the blaze, the fire-scarred hull of the multi-million dollar ship settled into the mud.

Speculation as to the cause of the fire flashed through the city. Was it sabotage? German High Command took full credit for the fire, using it as excellent propaganda, since U-boats were cruising the nearby waters and enemy agents could have landed and infiltrated U.S. defenses and caused the fire.

Various inquiries were carried out; the House of Investigating Committee of Congress blamed "carelessness and lack of supervision;" the Senate Committee blamed the Navy; the Navy blamed the renovations company. New York District Attorney Frank Hogan's conclusion was, "There is no evidence of sabotage. Carelessness has served the enemy with equal effectiveness." Still, to this day, not everyone agrees.

The most complicated salvage effort ever attempted was begun. Almost daily, 70 to 80 divers submerged into the black water surrounding the ship to cut away the super structure and plug up holes and seal over 2000 underwater openings.

As part of the salvage operation, the navy set up a diver training school that ran in conjunction with the work on the ship. The school ran 24 hours a day, seven days a week. About 2500 divers were trained and were qualified during the operation. This became the core of the navy Salvage Service.

More than 6000 tons of rubble and 4000 tons of broken glass were removed from the ship by divers. Eighteen months after the fire, the Normandie was slowly floated from the bottom. In November 1943 she was towed from Pier 88 to a dry dock. After complete examination and many debates, just after Thanksgiving, 1946, she was disassembled as $150,000 worth of scrap.

Despite her 139 proud voyages, heroic fire fighting efforts, dramatic rescues and an amazing feat of salvage engineering, it was still a sad end for a noble ship. The Normandie is gone, but her memory lives on.

Firehouse/April 1993