The most daring rescue in history

The sun set on February 18, 1952, over Cape Cod, Massachusetts, as it might have any other night, plunging the snow-dusted peninsula into an even more frosty chill. Miles off the coast, a fierce, unforgiving storm prepared to etch that particular date onto the immortal edifice of the Coast Guard’s storied history, but Barnstable County could not have known it.

Tracing its roots back to August 4, 1790, the United States Coast Guard (USCG), like other branches of the Armed Forces, shares its founding with the Father of the Country, George Washington. As president, Washington signed the Tariff Act, which authorized the building of ten vessels to fight smugglers and pirates. In 1915, the maritime service, formerly the Revenue Cutter Service, was renamed to its current title. Over the next several decades, the Guard took on several new responsibilities, including lighthouse management and marine inspection.

Despite 234 years of dedicated service to the nation, the Coast Guard is not as readily recognized or appreciated as the other branches of the U.S. military. However, an almost mythical tale from 72 years ago foregrounds the profound courage of those who selflessly ensure our nation's maritime safety, security, and stewardship.

As the Bay State brought the brunt of its notorious winter weather to bear against an unfortunate  T2 tanker, the SS Pendleton, the ship’s captain, John J. Fitzgerald, already delayed on his journey, chose to proceed cautiously into the storm at reduced speed, hoping to find more favorable weather. It was not to be. Encountering winds up to 50 miles per hour and waves towering at 70 feet, the Pendleton suddenly split violently in two. Eight men on the bow section, including Captain Fitzgerald, quickly perished. But the stern section, with over 30 men onboard, managed to stay afloat.

Crew member Fred Brown described the explosive sound that accompanied the tearing apart of the ship “like the tearing of a large piece of tin. It’s a noise that sends shivers up and down the spine and jangles every nerve.”

The explosion awoke another crew member, Carol Kilgore, who rushed to the desk to investigate. “When I got there,” he remembered, “I couldn’t believe my eyes. The bow was gone.”

Chief Engineer Raymond Sybert quickly took charge of what remained of the Pendleton, which he and his crew managed to keep afloat for 14 hours. The tanker had torn apart so suddenly it was impossible to send a prior distress call, leaving the crew unable to request any help (the ship’s distress signal had been lost in the accident). “The seas were breaking in every direction,” recalled Sybert. “The tanker cracked right through… just forward of midship. Right up to that time we had no warning anything was wrong.”

Fortunately, a USCG plane searching for another tanker struggling in the storm happened upon the Pendleton’s stern section and “alerted the Coast Guard Station at Chatham, Massachusetts, to render assistance.”

Boatswain’s Mate First Class Bernard Webber was assigned to the task (and a small motorized lifeboat to complete it!), which seemed impractical, to put it mildly. 

Webber would later recall wondering at the time of the assignment, “do they really think a lifeboat and its crew could actually make it that far out to sea in this storm and find the broken ship amid the blinding snow and raging seas with only a compass to guide them? If the crew of the lifeboat didn’t freeze to death first, how would they be able to get the men off the storm-tossed sections of the broken tanker?”

It truly appeared an impossible assignment, one from which Webber was not certain he would return. But mustering the same heroism and selflessness that have driven many great American heroes to risk their lives for others, Webber accepted the seemingly impossible quest.

The United States Navy Memorial describes what happened next: “Webber quickly assembled a crew of three more volunteers and in a wooden 36-foot motorized lifeboat CG-36500 driven by a single 90-horsepower engine they headed for Chatham’s Bar and certain disaster. As the boat reached the bar it was tossed violently around by the estimated 40 to 60-foot waves, was thrown into the air by the near hurricane force winds and landed on its side between waves.  The self-righting boat recovered quickly and was struck again, this time as tons of seawater crashed over the boat breaking the windshield, knocking the compass off its mount and flattening coxswain Webber to the deck. But… Webber regained control of the boat and managed to cross the bar although the engine would occasionally die out when waves rolled the vessel so far over that the engine would lose its prime. Coxswain Webber also had to often reverse the engine on the backside of waves in order to slow down to prohibit the boat’s bow from burying into the next wave and swamp the small vessel. With the weather and visibility worsening in freezing horizontal snow that lashed his face through the broken windshield Webber was miraculously able to find PENDLETON’s stern section with 33 [crew members] awaiting rescue.”

Miraculously, the four-man crew transferred 32 of the Pendleton’s 33 survivors to their much smaller craft. (Tragically, beloved crew member and cook George C. Meyers died in the process). Then, together, still without their compass, all 36 rain-soaked men managed to find their way back to the southeastern tip of Cape Cod.

Widely celebrated as the greatest rescue mission in USCG history, Bernard Webber stands out as a quintessential exemplar of the American spirit of adventure, fearlessness, and service—a man who did not set out to be great but when others' lives were on the line, stepped up to the task.

We are grateful for all those who have served and continue to serve to protect our oceans in the United States Coast Guard. Thank you for 234 years of dedication and courage.