Here are the stories of those that served aboard the USS STARK.

We would love to have as many stories as possible so if you'd like to have your story published, please submit your name and email address. You can tell your story in your own words and include pictures if you'd like. If for some reason you ever want to modify your story, we would be happy to make any changes you want. This is an opportunity for us all to have our stories known and shared as well as preserving history. These stories just might help our fellow sailors in the fleet today.

GMG3 NICK NORFLEET

I joined the US Navy in July, 1984 and went to boot camp at Great Lakes Naval Training Center in Great Lakes, IL. After boot camp, I went across the street to the US Naval Gunnery School at the world famous Green House, Building 521, to become a Gunner's Mate. Seeing all the different gun systems and missile systems was an experience I'll never forget. When I got there, I was informed that my Company Commander in boot camp promoted me to E2. Thank you Chief Kuntz!! Students pick sea duty based on class rank and since I was number 1, I got first pick of what ship to go to. All the different commands were written on the chalk board and one in particular caught my eye. A PBR in Pensacola, FL. I asked what I would be doing on a PBR and was told that I'd be out chasing drug runners in the Gulf of Mexico. 'Sign me up!!' A week later I was called to the office and said my orders were changed, I could have a destroyer in Carolina or a Frigate in Florida. I chose Florida without even knowing the name of the ship. After meeting all the qualifications, I was then promoted to E3.

My first day on the USS Stark was May 17, 1985. My primary job was the ship's armorer which means I took care of all the small arms on the ship (M14 rifle, M1911 pistol, shotguns, M60 and .50 caliber machine guns). I also learned a lot about the MK75 76mm gun mount. I went to several different training schools for things like Magazine Sprinkler Systems, Ammunition Administration, and a few others but my favorite was Shipboard Small Arms Instructor school. I really enjoyed taking shipmates to the shooting range, teaching them all about the weapons, and helping them learn how to shoot.

In the summer of 1985, the Stark did a public relations tour throughout the Great Lakes. We stopped in 16 different ports in the US and Canada. We gave tours to over 100,000 people that summer. We had two 40mm saluting batteries mounted on the 02 level and when we pulled into port, we could fire the cannons in a 21-gun salute. I loaded and fired the starboard cannon at every port. After about a year on the Stark, I was promoted to E4. I was surprised one day when my work center supervisor was suddenly transferred leaving me and GMG3 James Plonsky the only two GMG's on the ship. FCCS Lowery was a great boss and he told me he would help me with anything I needed as I was now the work center supervisor!

Another part of my job was to create and train the Ship's Self Defense Force. I took everyone to the range to get them all qualified on the weapons they each carried. We even had our own training sessions in the helo hanger where I taught them all how to strip the weapons, clean, and reassemble them. Since I built the team, I decided I would carry one of my all time favorite weapon systems, the M-60 machine gun. It sure was a lot of fun to shoot. For General Quarters, I manned the .50 cal machine guns on the 03 level above the bridge. One day we received 2 new barrels so I told my Lieutenant that I had to run a thousand rounds through each barrel to break them in and he said OK, so I mounted 2 of the .50 cals and we went through 2,000 rounds that day. A lot of guys got a chance to shoot that day and it was a lot of fun.

In 1986, the Stark was sent to Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, or 'GITMO' as we called it, for refresher training. This is where you run drills all day, every day, to get prepared for depolyment. Some days we would get underway at 4am and wouldn't get back until 1am and then do it all over again the next day. We returned to Mayport and began preparing to deploy to the Persian Gulf.

The Stark left Mayport on February 5, 1987. I'll admit, it was a pretty emotional day. I had made a lot of friends over the last 2 years and I was going to miss them dearly. What gave me comfort was knowing that my new family, all 200 of my brothers on the Stark would be there along for the ride. We stopped in a few different ports, the Azores off the coast of Portugal, Karachi, Pakistan, and then on to Bahrain. We had made several patrols throughout the Persian Gulf and then life changed when we pulled out on May 17, 1987.

It started off like any other day. I had watch in the afternoon, did some work down in the armory, had dinner and then decided to watch a movie in the Combat Systems berthing compartment lounge. The movie was Gymkata, starring gymnast Kurt Thomas. It was getting late and I was ready for bed so all I was wearing were sweatpants and socks. There were several of us in the lounge watching the movie, ET2 Chris DeAngelis was sitting next to me and I remember OS2 Jim Hensley was sitting across from me at the table. There was only about 5 minutes left in the movie when we heard a loud bang and the TV screen went blank. We all kind of looked at each other and then Hensley looked right at me and said, "We just got hit". I think it took all of 2 seconds for it to register but we all jumped up and started to go to our GQ stations.

I was one of the first to reach the ladder to go up and out of our berthing compartment. I looked up and it was completely dark. Chris was right behind me and I remember him pushing me to hurry up. When I reached the top of the ladder and went to step onto the deck, it felt different. It was not the steel deck that I was expecting. Instantly, I knew what it was even though I couldn't see it, but again, Chris gave me a push to go so around I went to the next ladder. I remember seeing Chris go into RICER as I went to the next ladder to go out to the O2 level. While still on the ladder, I could hear someone on the bridge shouting. I looked at the bulkhead behind me which is where the bridge would be and heard, "All hands brace for shock, incoming". I crouched down onto the ladder and wrapped my arms around the handrails. I could see only darkness beneath me when the second missile entered the ship and exploded just 2 decks below me. All I could see was smoldering shrapnel shooting through the darkness as the blast of the explosion shot through the ladder well and slammed into me. The explosion nearly knocked me back down the ladder but I held my grip on the rails. Since there was nowhere to go below, the only choice I had was to continue up the ladder to exit behind the bridge. Training teaches you to check the door for heat to help determine if there is a fire on the other side of the door. It didn't feel that hot yet so I slowly opened the door and all I saw was a wall of fire.

I closed the door, looked back down the ladder well to see if there was a possibility of avoiding the fire but saw nothing but darkness due to the thick smoke. I decided my only option was that I was going to have to run through the fire. When I opened the door again, I realized the fire was coming over the bridgewing and was several feet high but I had just enough room to make it past the fire and onto the 02 level. When I made it onto the 02 level, SMSN Chris Ryden was there. The ringing in my ears made it very difficult to hear what he was saying. We went for the first fire station just behind the bridge and when we turned on the water, nothing came out. We went further aft to another fire station and again, no water. I thought I would try to make it to my berthing compartment because I had no shoes on. I made it down to the galley, made it to docs office but there was way too much smoke to go any further. I went back to the flight deck because someone said we should muster back there. That's when I heard them call out Chris DeAngelis' name and someone said he was dead. Luckily I was sitting down because I think I actually passed out for a second and fell back onto the deck. Chris was right behind me as we made our way up the ladders. He was no more than a few feet away when the second missile struck. I just didn't see how it was possible that I survived and he did not.

At one point in the middle of the night, I was standing on the flight deck watching what was happening. A group of the engineers came out from fighting fires to get new canisters for their OBA (oxygen breathing apparatus). When HT1 Mike O'Keefe inserted the canister, he started yelling to get it off! There is a candle in the base of the unit to generate oxygen on start up but something failed and it started to burn him. The engineers got the OBA off and they all kicked it over the side. He told them to give him another OBA and at first they said no, he should stop. He told them again to get him another OBA and you could tell, he was not taking no for an answers. He put one on and went right back into the ship to continue fighting fires. I remember OS2 Bob Vaughan finding me and saying that we needed to get into the 76mm gun mount to see if everything was OK. The duty Gunner's Mate was killed and he had the keys. The only way to get in was to go up to the 02 level and enter the back of the gun mount and crawl down through the gun into the magazine. I showed Vaughan how to get through and when we got into the magazine, the sprinklers were still going and there was about a foot of water. All of the emergency lighting was on. We checked everything and decided there wasn't going to be an issue with the magazine so we worked our way back up through the gun mount to get back to the 02 level. I found some of the Firecontrolman in the CIWS control room. I found a pillow in the control room so I took the pillowcase off of it, cut some slots in it and put it on like a t-shirt. I remember going back up to the 02 level and sitting on the deck thinking that the ship might roll over because we were listing so much to port. Thankfully we had engineers that knew what they were doing and the ship was able to stay upright.

I went down to the helo hanger and found FC3 Mark Bareford. He was on a stretcher and in really bad shape. Most of his body was burned. I asked him how he felt and he said that doc had given him as much as he could to stop the pain but he said his whole body still hurt. At one point, he asked me about his face. I said, "Well, that little thing you called a moustache is gone but everything else if fine". He actually grinned and said, "Don't make me laugh". I told him that he was going to be alright and that I'd stay with him if he needed me.

It wasn't much longer when someone got me and told me to go over to the USS Waddell to try and get some rest. When I got to the Waddell, they took me down to the Combat Systems berthing compartment and some of the guys gave me some things so that I could take a shower and get cleaned up. They gave me an empty rack so that I could try to get some sleep but I don't think I actually did. The next thing I remember is someone telling me to go topside because they were sending us to the USS La Salle AGF-3. The La Salle was permanently based out of Bahrain. There was an area inside the ship for troops to assemble and there were blankets all over the deck. I remember laying down on a blanket and just closing my eyes in disbelief as to what was happening. I really don't remember much after that. I do know that we were housed in a holding area with cots. I think it was weeks before I really knew what was going on. One morning, my Division Officer, ENS Richard McGunigale, stood in the doorway and was talking to me. I looked around and realized that everyone else was gone. He told me it was time to get up. Not like an order but more like a plea because he cared and he knew that I was fading fast. I truly believe to this day that Mr. McGunigale save my life that day. I got up and went to muster and finally joined the rest of the crew.

After a few weeks, the USS Acadia AD-42 came to rebuild the Stark enough so that she could sail home under her own power. They moved us over to the Acadia and we thought we were in heaven. They had a nice berthing compartment for us and multiple chow lines. The ship's store was incredible. It's amazing how small things like that can make a difference in your life. My enlistment was just about up so I started to think about what to do. I chose a ship that was still being built out of Norfold, VA and reenlisted down in the armory. Mr. McGunigale was happy to perform my reenlistment. The decision was made to have half of the crew fly home to go on leave and then the other half would said the Stark home. When the Stark got to Mayport, the crew on leave would come back and relieve the other half so that they could go on leave. Since I had reenlisted and was transferring to VA, I flew home with the first crew. We landed in Rota Spain and stayed for a night and the next day flew straight to Mayport. I left and went straight to the airport to catch a flight home to Houston.

When I got to Houston, reporters were all over my parent's house. We finally decided to do a press conference and I addressed them all at the same time. It was interesting to say the least. I was supposed to show up in Norfolk on August 5th but I heard that the Stark would be arriving in Mayport on that day. I called my new command and the BMC said it would be no problem for me to take an extra day to welcome the Stark back to Mayport. I got to see the ship come home and then off to Norfolk I went.

I made some very good friends while I was in the Navy. GMM3 Mark Samples and I met while we were in boot camp and when we learned that we would both be going to Gunnery School, we instanly became friends. While in 'A' school, I gave up my chance at a 'C' school so that Mark could have it. He chose the MK 13 Missile System. We didn't know then but his choice for that system would play an important role in our friendship. After being on the Stark for a few months, I got word that Mark picked the Stark for his first ship.

I met ET2 Chris DeAngelis when I first arrived on the Stark. He and a group of friends all rode motorcycles so they took me down to the Honda shop and I bought a 1984 Honda Shadow 500. It was a perfect fit for me even though all the other guys had bigger bikes. We all became more than just friends, we were brothers. Mark, Chris, and I rented a beach house down at the beach and stayed there when we were in port. When Chris married his wife, Donna, they moved in to their own place and FC2 Pete Trunzo took Chris' spot at the beach house.

My experience on the Stark has had a lasting impact on me. It has made me who I am and I wouldn't change anything. I've always wanted to give back in some way and working on the Stark Memorial Service has given me one such opportunity. In 2025, I was invited to join the Naval Order of the United States. The organization's mission is to preserve naval and maritime history. A member of the Naval Order, CAPT Pete Wynkoop, also a former Captain of the USS Stark, was very insturmental in coordinating the Memorial Service with the personnel in charge of NS Mayport. He was just beginning to mentor me when he suddenly passed away. The other members of the Naval Order stepped up and have been helping me along the way. I was introduced to the Captain and Command Master Chief of the base and thanks to them, the Service will continue well into the future.

Finally, I'd like to say thank you to all of my brothers from the Stark. Mark, Pete, Bernard, Gary, Eric, Bill, Clyde, and everyone else, it was truly an honor to serve with you all.

BTW, I never have seen the end of that movie.

GMM3 BERNARD MARTIN

My name is Bernard T Martin Sr. I am a veteran of the United States Navy, 1983-1987, as a GMM3 (Petty Officer Third Class, Gunner's Mate Missiles), aboard the USS Stark FFG 31. I also served in the US Army National Guard from 1988-89, reserves 1989-1990, and then again from 2000 to 2006, active duty Operation Iraqi Freedom 2003-2004 serving in the 101st Airborne and 3rd Infantry Division as a Specialist 4, 13 Bravo, United States Army Field Artillery and Military Police, 3rd Batallion.

I enlisted in the Navy in the delayed entry program in 1982 in Waynesboro Georgia. I left for boot camp in August of 1983 for Naval Training Center in Great Lakes, Illinois, Company 214-83. After boot camp, I attended Gunners Mate 'A' School in Great Lakes, Illinois, however I failed Basic Electricity and Electronics School. I was then sent to the fleet as a striker. I reported aboard the USS Stark FFG 31 in Mayport, FL, in February of 1984 until 17May1987. I served aboard the USS Stark for 3 years and 3 months so at the time I had come to the ship, most of the plank owners were leaving and being replaced by other crew members. I had this unique position of knowing quite a few of the plank owners and many of the crew developing personal relationships with each of them serving under the plank owner Captain, CMDR Costello and the Executive Officer, LCDR Ulrich. I was assigned to deck division. I also remember the letter that CMDR Costello sent my family welcoming us to the USS Stark family. I got pretty much all over the whole ship doing different jobs for deck division. Now I originally joined the Navy to be a Gunner's Mate because my father was in World War II in the Navy. So, even though I was in deck division, I decided to strike for Gunner's Mate and became a designated Striker before the striker board. I did my second tour in the galley during the Great Lakes Cruise.

During early 1986 I was finally frocked with my Crow (Petty Officer Third Class insignia with Chevron and crossed cannons). I remember after being in deck division that it was pretty strange that Boatswain's Mate Senior Chief Fisher, every time I would pass him in the passageway on the ship, he would say, 'Morning Gunner'. After I rated, he never called me by my name again. When I worked for him, he used to terrify me with the crossed anchors tattooed on his ears and hold fast on all his knuckles. He was really old school Navy.

I thank God for all of these men that I served with who helped shaped me into who I am today. I had the honor of making a few deployments aboard the USS Stark during my time there. During the Middle East Force, 1984, we rescued the survivors of the Pacific Protector after an Iranian attack. I was the youngest man aboard at 18 in 1984. I remember me and another sailor cutting a cake for being the oldest and youngest members on board. The other deployments that followed are Operation Jittery Prop in 1985, Special Operations in the Eastern Pacific, Great Lakes Cruise 1985, Castex 1986, different operations in the Caribbean, Guantanamo Bay, and then finally Middle East Force 1987.

Now I get to the point where I can talk about the attack on 17 May 1987 that pretty much changed my life for evermore. Now, you must understand that I had lived aboard the ship for over 3 years at this time and I knew pretty much everyone on board and as I said earlier, I personally interacted with everyone that was killed, and all that survived. (One such sailor, Joseph Watson, was reading his Bible early that morning and saying his prayers and he said, "Hey Martin, can I pray for you?", and of course my Heathen self said, "No". I had not yet known the Lord so he said, "Okay, I will pray for you anyway", and what a shock to learn that he was one of the ones that had been killed. Anyway, fast forward to the President Reagan memorial service in Mayport when I met his mom and dad. Very good Godly people. My heart broke for them.

On the morning of the 17th at 0530 when sea and anchor detail had been set, myself, Todd Glasscock, David Peterson, and one other young man from deck division, departed the ship. The ship was getting underway as we went to the airstrip in Bahrain. We were scheduled to go to Germany and then go to the United States. However, one of the engines on our plane caught on fire and we made an emergency landing in Sigonela, Italy. When the plane landed, Chief Gunner's Mate Wayne Young (former Stark sailor), came to the plane and said he needed all Stark sailors to meet with him and the base Commanding Officer. His first words were the Stark had been hit and they understand that we had left the morning of the attack and that some of the guys had not made it. At that point, I immediately got sick to my stomach and felt like something ripped out my insides. What should have been a joyous occasion to go home and then meet the ship in August turned into a living nightmare for me. I remember Glasscock looking at me in tears saying, "Man, these were our friends and shipmates". Well, the plane eventually got the motor repaired after a few days and I really can't tell you a lot after that because I was pretty much in shock for quite a few days. We landed in Fort Dix, New Jersey, and the other plane that was supposed to take us to Mayport had gotten delayed so I took a commercial flight to Atlanta. When I got there, I decided to call my mom and when she answered the phone, she immediately went to crying and wanted to know where I was at and what was going on.

One of my letters came back stamped "Returned to Sender - Deceased". Added with bureaucracy and confusion, my family thought that I had perished. I told my mom I can't talk here, I'll tell you about it when I get home. She stated the Navy had been looking for me and I needed to get to Mayport ASAP, so when I got to the airport in Jacksonville, I immediately asked for a chaplain. They took me to meet the Admiral on base and he started asking me a bunch of questions and I told him that I really didn't know anything other than we left the morning of the attack. That is my perspective of what happened for me. I have included a photo of the copy of the envelope that was sent back to my family. Now as far as how it affected me, as I said earlier, the Stark crew was my very first family away from my blood family. Our Stark family goes Way Beyond DNA, it's about trust, loyalty, and respect. Yes we had our days of the Stark reality when things didn't go right but we are also still the USS Stark family. So in 1988, I joined the US Army National Guard, Unit Battery C, 1st 214th Field Artillery, Waynesboro, Georgia.

I stayed there a year, 1988-89, then reserve until 1990. I then went to work with the Department of Transportation, State of Georgia, which I retired in 2019. In 2000, I rejoined the Guard Unit after making Foreman with the DOT. We could get paid by the Army and the DOT when we activated in 2003. When the war with Iraq broke out, the unit knew I was a Gunner's Mate from the Navy so I wound up pushing ammo that year from Fort Stewart. Now the reason I got picked for that was because Turkey would not let us in the border and the 3rd Infantry Division went right up the middle of Baghdad while we were at Fort Campbell, Kentucky, with the 101st Airborne. Our artillery Mission got canceled and I wound up a year as a military police with the 3rd Infantry Division. I was released from active duty in 2004.

It was at this time frame that Bill Morandi and some of the others encouraged me to come back to the Memorial Service. I told Bill, "Why should I come, I felt I had abandoned you guys and was guilty of not being there when it mattered". Even though I've been following orders, Bill replied, "No, we do not think of you that way". Malcom Murray also said we need you back so I slowly started coming back year after year. While all the Shipmates were encouraging me, all this was going on. The Lord was dealing with me. I was in a biker Ministry. I love history so I've done quite a few things such as using my ordination to make a difference in others lives. But now you must understand because of the attack, I try to live my life worthy of the sacrifice of my brothers and worthy of the effort put forth to save the ship. So I worked on some things for a couple of years.

Then in 2005, I lost a very good friend that was in the Army with me to a roadside bomb in Baghdad. Again, I did not deploy at that time for I was one of the ammo guys at Fort Stewart. I got a letter from him telling me about being wounded and he being treated 'Behind The Wire'. He felt while everyone went outside the wire, he said now I know how you felt after the ship was hit. When I returned home, I got a call from his wife, Karen. When I answered the phone, she immediately started crying and she said I wanted you to know that David (who was also a Navy veteran who had been aboard the USS America when the ship had been hit) had been killed. Bam, another slap in the face by the Iraqis! Now, his death forced me to deal with some things all the way back to the USS Stark attack. Because of all of this, this is who I am today. I have a bond with each and every one of these men. I will never quit at anything that I start. I live my life Worthy of the sacrifices of my Shipmates. I will forever be a man of Duty, Honor, Courage, and Commitment. From my time on the ship, I learned clear moral guidance of stepping up and getting squared away. Now this is not easy, but I will never forget. I have been given a mission now. I will always uphold their legacy and memory and I understand this is why the Lord moved me that morning. I was being prepared for what I am doing now and I have felt and fought a lot of pain of losing my Shipmates and battle Buddies. These men are very important to me and this has changed me forever and has provided me with an extended family of Gold Star Mothers, Brothers, Fathers and Sisters (Janna, Donna, Mr Weaver, and every one).

For a lot of years after the attack, I felt like a part of me had been ripped away. So for those of you reading this, you are part of my family all the way from plank owner to decommissioning. I am talking to you, today's Veterans of so many hard-fought battles. John 15:13 states 'Greater Love have no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends'. You my brothers, exhibited these qualities, self-sacrifice, looking out for each other, and overcoming a time of dire circumstances. I am honored and humbled to be a part of this crew and I thank God for each and every one of you, my brothers in arms. Thank you Nick Norfleet for encouraging me to write this. I thank God for all of you, my brothers, Pete, Clyde, Mark, all the Mikes (Curran, Palumbo, Riordan, Nelson), Nick, Pete, Chris, thank you for the opportunity to share.

Zechariah 13:9- 'I will bring the one-third through the fire, Will refine them as silver is refined, And test them as gold is tested. They will call on My name, And I will answer them. I will say, ‘This is My people’; And each one will say, ‘The Lord is my God.’”

Bernard T Martin Sr
Ordained Minister/Chaplin
US Navy Veteran
US Army Veteran

GSM3 MARK WASNOCK

My name is Mark Wasnock and I am applying for a service connection for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. This letter is one of the hardest things I have ever had to do; write-down my thoughts, feelings, troubles, issues, social disorders and conduct for the world to see from my terrifying life and death experience as a 19-year-old boy on the USS STARK (FFG-31). Even now as I type this letter, thinking about what I will write, the thought of seeing my words being physically revealed in print before my eyes, it’s quite emotional and unsettling.

In 1985, while I was in the Navy’s Delayed Entry Program, I first toured the USS STARK in Oswego, NY. The STARK crew was very professional and made me feel very happy for the decision of joining the US Navy. I had a close relationship with my whole family, my mother and father were very proud of my decision to join the military and they too had to sign for me to enlist because I was only 17 years old and finishing up my last year in high school. In late 1986, after completing boot camp and class “A” school, I was very happy to learn that I too would be assigned to the USS STARK. The USS STARK crew had made a positive impact on me long before I ever became a sailor and now, I was to be a very-part of that same crew. Life was good in the mid 80’s; I was happy and made friends easily. I got along very well with my family. My sister and I had spent a lot of time together. My Stark shipmates quickly became a very much part of my family as well, because of her relatively small size and our time out at sea together. I think it’s fair to say most everyone knew each other. In May of 1987, we had just finished half of our six-month deployment in the Persian Gulf. By personal choice the USS STARK had been my only frigate during my twenty-year naval career.

On May 17, 1987 the USS STARK was struck by two Iraqi exocet missiles that killed 37 of my buddies. The ship had just left the port of Bahrain. Tom Marshall and I were standing six-hour rotational watches in the engine room. Todd Glasscock had just transferred off the ship so we were one qualified man short to stand the normal three-person watch rotation in the engine room. I believe we were doing a full power run to collect Main Reduction Gear bearing reading for an upcoming inspection. It was early evening and I had just been relieved from watch and I was looking forward to hitting my rack because our watch rotation of six-hours-on, six-hours-off can really tire you out quick. Had I gone to bed like I had planned, there was a much better chance I would have became another casualty that night.

Mike Romanetto was relentless; he wanted to watch the movie “Reckless” in the HT shop that night and he kept nagging at me until I gave in and decided to watch the movie with him. He very well may have been responsible for saving my life that night because instead of potentially being asleep in my rack, which immediately flooded from the initial damage; I was now several spaces aft of where the two missiles struck. Had I been in my berthing compartment, I honestly don’t know if I would have escaped from the initial chaos. I wake up in tears many sleepless nights, feeling guilty for not being in my berthing compartment. I feel I should have been in that berthing compartment; maybe I could have made a difference somehow. I wrestle with these thoughts all the time and they don’t always leave me a nice person to be around. I see blank-lifeless faces of family members who lost their sons and husbands that day. I feel guilty to them like I cheated them and let them down. I would have traded my life in a heartbeat so Terrance Weldon could have gone home to his pregnant wife. Weldon was my ASU Bahrain dart buddy, we would play darts for a beer and I beat him every single time. I asked him why he keeps wanting to play for a beer when he always loses, He said the competition drives him to try better each time and that he would learn more playing against someone better than him than someone he always beat. He also said it was cheaper than going out in town and wanted to save money. He seemed to be a very proud expecting father. I think of Weldon often, he was an amazing human being.

When the first missile struck, I did not know what had happened. The ship rocked-hard to the side and I could hear a large explosion. Mike Romanetto and I kind of looked at each other in horror, we didn’t say anything, and we just stopped and stared at one another for a moment. Then the ship rocked-hard again and I heard another large explosion. My first reaction, I thought my engine room blew-up. I remember hearing a voice over the ships 1MC (general announcing system) that lasted only a second. There was terror in his voice as he passed the word “General” that’s all I remember hearing. “General”, The 1MC was dead. To this day, March 20, 2026, I still have never seen the rest of the movie “Reckless”.

Leaving the HT shop, I ran into the engine room to relieve Tom Marshall; we shared the same blankstare and fear that Mike and I had exchanged just moments ago. Soon after Tom left to go to his General Quarters station, the engine room started filling with this thick heavy acid-tasting smoke. It was so dense and black it made the engine room lights ineffective. The smoke was toxic it burned my eyes, mouth and throat; it consumed everything and quickly became overwhelming and unbearable. I had to evacuate the space so I reported to Central Control Station (CCS). Randy Engram was the EOOW, and on the far side of CCS, I saw a half naked chief petty officer with blood gushing from his foot. His face was pale and I’m sure he was probably in shock.

I reported to the EOOW and explained that I could not stay in the engine room because of all the smoke. It was extremely difficult to breathe and the smoke was burning my eyes to the point I could not see anything; I could not see the equipment I was suppose to monitor. I didn’t know this at the time but Randy did (EOOW), this period of time was extremely critical in the saving of the ship and preventing further loss of life. The ship had to maintain steerageway and power to aid in the damage control efforts in preventing STARK from capsizing or sinking. Randy ordered me back in the Engine room and said to use my Mark V Gas Mask so the acid smoke wouldn’t burn my eyes as much. I returned to the engine room and stayed in the smoke-filled engine room for approximately 10 hours doing my duty. At some point, I was ordered to set negative ventilation. I turned off the engine room supply ventilation fans and opened the Gas Turbine engine module doors to aid in clearing the acid smoke that consumed the ship. Even with negative ventilation set, I still had to fight for air pockets, crutching down and grabbing air where I could. I was very scared. The ship was at an unhealthy list that was very frightening to me. I had no idea how far the ship could lean-over on its side with out completely rolling over. I kept thinking of the 1972 movie “The Poseidon Adventure” I was sure the ship was going to roll over and I was in a panic how I would get out of the ship if it rolled over. I feel Kevin Cummings was a true hero that day. He is still one of my biggest fans. To my knowledge, Kevin was never acknowledged for his heroic actions. I’m sure he did his share of firefighting that day too. But what made him so great was that he was an under-instruction Oil King, running around the ship on his own with EOSS in hand transferring fuel to keep us right side-up. (EOSS stands for Engineering Operational Sequencing System, it is step-by-step instructions, directions and diagrams on how to shift, align, operate and secure equipment) Kevin was transferring fuel to maintain proper ballast and list.

Before the CO ordered the Engine room shut down, I remember GSE1 Jacobson coming through the engine room. I think he was from Repair V as an investigator. That’s probably when I first learned the ship was hit by missiles and we had people dead and men over the side. That’s when I knew things were going to get worst.

After the main engines were secured, I reported to the fantail took off my Mark V gas mask and saw daylight, my first breath of fresh air in over 10 hours. The fantail is where damage control efforts were being managed from. I was there to join a fire party and that’s were I first saw some of the dead. I became more terrified of what images I was going to see. I fought fires for the next several hours without an oxygen breathing apparatus (OBA), I was a robot, just doing what had to be done. I don’t even remember much as I was more like a zombie at that point, brainless just letting my body take control.

In the Starboard Helo-Hanger, they had started to stage the dead. I remember the black filled body bags. That smell of my dead shipmates or what I thought was the smell of my friends is still engraved into my head. That smell was the worst. I never smelled anything like that before. The smell of burning hair or unnatural confined fires (oil or electrical fires) still reminds me of that foul odor; it gives me chills and makes me very tense and agitated. I believe my STARK ATTACK experience is why I’m still constantly scratching and itchy at my nose, and that fucking gas mask!!! I’m physically trying to remove that smell from my nose. I have countless nights waking up from bloody noses. Recently, I have started to see a doctor of Otolaryngology; DR. Peter Catalano, who has noted that I have a lot of scaring inside of my nose.

One of the last things I remember doing in support of firefighting efforts on STARK is remembering hearing someone (I think it was the XO) say “we need to get the dental records out of sickbay, before it becomes too late, we need to be able to identify our dead”. Without hesitation, I threw on my gas mask and proceeded up the port side of the smoke-filled mangled ship. If it wasn’t for the giant hole in the side of the ship to let some light in, I’m not sure I would have recognized or even made it to sickbay from all the damage. I found the medical records fairly easy and it was a good thing too because my legs had started to get weak and they were not responding very well. I made it back to the Fantail with the records in hand and that’s when I collapsed and passed out from severe smoke inhalation, dehydration and exhaustion. I fell face first on the nonskid and I believe this is when I broke my nose and caused my deviated septum that was discovered several years later. When I came to, my legs hurt like living hell and I could no longer walk. The XO ordered me off the ship to the USS LaSalle where I started to receive treatment for my burns, cuts and injuries.

After STARK, I locked-up and pushed my mother, father and sister away, I did not talk to them anymore at least not like I use to. I have been married three times since the STARK attack and my relationship problems certainly stem from the built-up anger, stress and guilt that I carry around. I was a very young, junior, push-button third-class petty officer, very new to the navy. I still don’t understand why I would feel guilty but I do and those feelings still come and wash over me at times.

My second divorce, (Xmas 2000), I pushed my mother even farther away. I went a whole year without talking to my mom; I didn’t want her in my life, I didn’t want her advice, thoughts or comments. I didn’t want a mother! I referenced this to my sister, and how I could just shut people out, ignore them, bury everything and feel nothing for the living. I have lost memories of my life prior to STARK. My sister, Penny and I had been very close and we got along very well prior to the STARK attack. Afterwards, I thought Penny had changed but now it makes more sense that I had significantly changed the way I feel and act towards people. I had sworn Penny was making up crazy stories about our childhood together until several years later I learned that her stories had all been very true.

I have always avoided talking about the horrible-side of my experiences on STARK and just buried them away like boxes of clothes in the attic. The closer someone tries to get to me the more I push them away. The STARK has certainly caused me personal problems with stress, drinking, sleeping issues and relationships with business colleagues, friends, and family. I have a dysfunctional relationship with my kids who live with my ex-wife. I have well documented headaches and inappropriate outbursts that I now contribute to PTSD. My sleep is terrible, very light sleeper, hearing every sound and bump in the night, thinking something bad is about to happen. Smells will wake me up, that I have to go investigate. I still wake up many times crying from Stark memories that prevent me from falling back asleep.

This is my third job after retiring from the Navy. In January 2012, I will have worked at this position for two years. I enjoy what I do much better than my other two jobs because I work alone and spend my time talking with active duty, military retirees and their family members. I have been reprimanded by my supervisor for job performance which was a direct result of my PTSD from the USS STARK.

Respectfully yours,
Mark Wasnock

MS3 PAUL BROWN

The USS Stark (FFG-31) was my first ship and my second command. I had previously completed a tour in NAVCOMSTA Keflavick, Iceland, and reported to the Stark on 12/11/84, undesignated, working in Deck department. The USS Stark was deployed to the Middle East Task Force early in 1987, monitoring and patrolling the Persian Gulf during the Iran and Iraqi war.

I was a bit wild back then, and previously back from an unauthorized absence from Canada, because of a girl I had met on the USS Stark's Great Lakes Tour. Captain Brindel, at my Captains Mast, had worked out a plan for me. I would be a permanent representative for the Deck Department as a Mess Crank (foodservice worker) and then work with the Mess Specialist in the back once we were done, serving the crew meals. Captain Brindel was more than fare to me and kind. I was able to strike out of Deck Department and make Mess Specialist 3rd class Petty Officer off the advancement exam, because of Captain Brindel's kindness, that latter would save my life in many ways, although not realizing it at the time.

This is my story, the night of the attack on the USS Stark (FFG-31) on May 17th 1987. There are many beliefs and thoughts of what happened that night, but these stories are ours, the Officer's and enlisted on Stark, raw and personal and thank God we are given the opportunity to tell them!

I was just a kid from a small town in Lyndonville, Vermont, the Northeast kingdom, far from God, infact, James Douglas Morrison, (Jim) was my god, "Dionyses" The Greek god of wine, music, chaos and madness, after watching the 1979 movie Apocalypse Now by Francis Ford Coppola, the song by the Doors, "The End" captured me, and my Bible was a bio about the life of front man for the Doors Jim Morrison by Danny Sugarmen, "No one here gets out alive". It was 1987 and we had a CowBoy in the Whitehouse named Ronald Reagan. I was 20 years old, serving in the greatest Navy on the face of the earth in the Persian Gulf and as I wrote in my High School Year book 2 years earlier, "The Future uncertain, and the end is always near". A qoute taken from the song, "Road House Blues" by the Doors.

I remember that night on May 17th 1987 like it was yesterday. I had just finished up in the Mess Hall and on the Mess Decks they were playing a movie. I don't remember what it was, but it couldn't have been that good because I hit my pit early. They had moved S-2 down in Engineering Berthing! I was pissed!, I hated the SNIPES, hated them! They would always come through the chow line in thier dirty green coveralls, and I had a run in with a couple of them a while back. At night we had to run the gaylord system, it was a system that would run hot soapy water through the vents to clean out our vents in the Galley. I was required to go down to Engineering to tag out the system in the tag out log and I did, coming back I noticed a light coming from the scuttle that came up into the Galley. A couple of Snipes were in the Gallery stealing some ham and cheese for a sandwich. I walked into the Galley and confronted them, they pushed me up against the elevator and threatened me not to tell, but I reported the incident to the Master At Arms. I had a history with those guys, they were still my brother's, after the dust had settled and years had passed, being moved from Deck Department and that Berthing saved my life that night. "General quarters, General quarters!" The Stark rocked from the Exocet, ripping through the hull smashing through crews quaters, sleeping sailors were jolted out of thier bunks. Some were hurled through the ships open wound and into the sea.

I jumped out of my rack shaking, wearing nothing but my underwear and had to pull a pair of dirty cook whites out of the dirty clothes bin. The main exit out of Engineering Berthing was on fire and blocked. I don't remember anyone else in Engineering Berthing still down there at the time as I climbed up through the escape scuttle in the back of the berthing. My GQ station was Zone 1 with Mark Caouette up forward by the Boatswain's locker. As I came up out of the escape scuttle in the back of the berthing, I was immediately engulfed in thick white smoke and choking to death. I was dying, I was dying choking to death from the smoke. Then suddenly from out of nowhere in my mind like an infomercial was being played, something was communicating with me, something from out of "nowhere" was telling me what to do! It was telling me to stop and drop to my knees! I followed the instructions and could see the light coming off the Mess Decks and started to crawl towards it. It was told to me by MS2 Scott that from there I was taken back to Admin to fresh air.

The crew fought heroically through the night and myself and others were taken to the USS Acadia (AD-42) and later to Bahrain to make the ship sea worthy for its return. I stayed on the USS Stark and was part of the crew that brought her back under her own power. When we pulled in from that six month deployment I was on leave and went back to my family in Vermont.

The events that happened and the way they did, haunted me, it should have been 38 that night, it should have been 38! The series of events that saved my life that fatal night that claimed 37 of my Brother's was more than luck! I call it, my God Story. In 1998 I claimed Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior. I was no Hero that night, far from it, but the events that took place before the attack that night and during will always be with me... Thank you for letting me share.

Future Stories

Future stories from other shipmate's coming soon.