It was a peaceful morning on December 7, 1941, when the battleship USS Maryland (BB-46) was moored alongside her sister ship, USS Oklahoma, at Pearl Harbor. That peace was shattered in a brief few minutes with the approaching roar of Japanese planes dropping the surprise attack that drew America into war. Armor-piercing shells pounded Maryland, but the crew responded with brave promptness. Gunners rushed to stations, firing at swarms of attacking planes. When the attack lifted, her guns had destroyed seven planes, a sign of the combat to come. Among the crew of the ship, heroism was displayed by Seaman 1st Class Leslie Short, who destroyed a torpedo plane and put another one out of commission in a last-ditch defense that saved hundreds of lives.
The cost in lives was heavy. Maryland had four men lost in that morning attack, and the Oklahoma, struck again and again by torpedoes, capsized and pinned hundreds of men within her hull. Maryland’s crew endangered their lives to rescue survivors from the fire, fighting smoke, flame, and collapsing compartments. For the majority, the image of Pearl Harbor’s 2,403 dead and over a thousand injured would be etched in their minds forever. But for Maryland, the day was just the start of her own long war in the Pacific.
While most of her sisters had survived the attack in fighting condition, Maryland had been through it. She was rushed into immediate repair and sent to Puget Sound for overhaul. She was back on the sea in February 1942, the first of the Pearl Harbor battleships again to contribute to the fleet. Her return was a victory for determination—not a ship’s, but of a nation willing to fight a world war.
Later, Maryland was ever-present in island-hopping campaigns. In the invasion of Tarawa in November 1943, she employed her giant 16-inch guns to pound Japanese defenses before the Marines ashore. Even her new equipment, though, had its idiosyncrasies: shockwaves from her big guns knocked out newly installed radios over and over, keeping crews busy reinstalling communications as havoc erupted ashore. At other times, the Marines had to battle without the radio assistance they required, a hard lesson that war was as quick to show vulnerability as it was to show bravery.
Despite this, Maryland persisted. Her guns sent uninterrupted fire onto beaches and fortifications at Kwajalein, Saipan, and other operations, though uninterrupted use wore hairline cracks in the vessel itself. She was first damaged at Saipan when a Japanese torpedo struck her bow, and two of her sailors were killed as she ripped open her starboard side. Half a month of repairs set her back in action, ready once again to pound in fire support. The most gut-wrenching perils she would face were still ahead.
Here at Leyte Gulf in October 1944, the greatest sea battle of history, Maryland participated in the fleet bombardments and rode out waves of Japanese air attacks. She experienced here the new horror of kamikazes. One struck close to her forward turrets and killed 31 men and injured 30 others. Battered but not seriously damaged, Maryland was soon patched up and back in service within months, testifying to the determination of her crew and Navy repair forces.
The peril did not abate. On April 7, 1945, while on the Okinawa campaign, a kamikaze with a 550-pound bomb on board dived into the ship. Ten men were killed, 31 were wounded, and six were lost forever. Yet even so, Maryland remained at duty for the remaining months of the war in the Pacific, her pockmarked decks with the story of her resilience.
The history of the “Fighting Mary’s” is less about steel and guns and more about the men who served aboard. The story of sailors like Gordon Sage, born poor to serve as an admiral’s orderly, or Chief Radioman Earl H. Selover, who lived ed Pearl Harbor personally, shows how close to home the ship’s history was. From kamikaze battles to rescue operations aboard Oklahoma, their war was a tribute to the strength of a generation burdened with war at sea.
Following Japan’s surrender, Maryland performed one last act of mercy: the return of American servicemen home. She made five round trips, transporting thousands of veterans over the Pacific, a last act of devotion to men who had fought so hard.
Decommissioned at the end of the war and dismantled in 1959, the ship herself is lost, but her name and her story live on. A monument in Annapolis preserves her memory, paying tribute to the bravery of her crew who served on her. Maryland’s story was bigger than that of a battleship—it was one of survival, sacrifice, and human courage.
From the fires of Pearl Harbor to the skies of battle over Okinawa, the USS Maryland established herself as not only a war machine but a symbol of perseverance. Her legacy is today a testament to the sailors who delivered her across the Pacific and contributed to the winning of the greatest war of the 20th century.