#cv-6

U.S. Navy Douglas TBD-1 Devastator of Torpedo Squadron 6 taking off from the aircraft carrier USS Enterprise - 19 May 1942.

The flight deck of the American aircraft carrier Enterprise (USS Enterprise CV-6), damaged by friendly fire.April 20, 1945

At 4:30 p.m. local time on April 20, 1945, while repelling a Japanese air raid off the coast of Japan, the aircraft carrier Enterprise came under fire from her escort ships.

A nearby anti-aircraft shell burst ignited the fuel tank of one of the F6F Hellcat fighters. The prompt action of Fire Officer Monroe, who quickly activated the foam extinguishing system, saved the other aircraft from the flames.🔥

Enterprise CV-6. A great ship being towed to be scraped in 1958. It was the most decorated ship from WWII. It participated in most Pacific campaigns during the war. Attempts to save the ship failed. By 1961, she had been scrapped for Detroit auto metal.

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USS ENTERPRISE (CV-6): THE GREY GHOST, SLAYER OF FLEETS, EATER OF SOULS

Hold onto your britches, you soggy landrats, because the USS Enterprise (CV-6) wasn’t a ship—she was a steel-clad, plane-spewing DEMON that moonwalked through WWII and made the Japanese Navy cry for its mommy! Commissioned in ’38, this Yorktown-class beast was born screaming, built to punch holes in history and laugh while doing it. She didn’t sail the Pacific—she dropkicked it into submission.

PEARL HARBOR? MORE LIKE “WELCOME TO MY FIST”

December 7, 1941: Enterprise was supposed to be napping at Pearl Harbor, but NAH, she was out hot-rodding planes to Wake Island like the Navy’s most unhinged delivery boy. When Japan’s sneak attack hit, her planes were already zipping through the sky, turning Zeroes into fireballs and snagging the FIRST AMERICAN KILLS of the war. While Pearl was a barbecue, Enterprise was out here yeeting haymakers, screaming,

“YOU PICKED THE WRONG NEIGHBORHOOD, FELLAS!” MIDWAY: THE DAY ENTERPRISE ATE JAPAN’S LUNCH AND ITS LUNCH MONEY

June 1942, Battle of Midway—Enterprise didn’t just show up; she rolled in like a cosmic wrecking ball. Her dive bombers, led by pilots like Lt. Richard H. “I Don’t Miss” Best, YOLO’d their way into history, torching the Japanese carriers Kaga and Akagi into crispy sushi in ONE DAY. Two others sank too! Best’s bomb on Akagi? A middle finger so perfect it sent Japan’s whole war plan into a screaming tailspin. Enterprise wasn’t the heart of Midway—she was the spiked bat that caved in Japan’s dreams!

SANTA CRUZ & GUADALCANAL: TAKING PUNCHES, SPITTING FIRE

Eastern Solomons? Santa Cruz? Enterprise ate bombs like they were spicy tacos, got her deck scorched, and still kept swinging. At Santa Cruz, she was the LAST CARRIER STANDING in the Pacific, surrounded by Japanese battleships and cruisers like a lone wolf in a shark tank. Her crew? Absolute lunatics, fighting fires, patching holes, and launching planes while probably flipping off the enemy with both hands. For a hot minute, she was America’s ONLY carrier, holding the line like a drunk Viking who forgot how to die.

THE GREY GHOST: JAPAN’S PERSONAL HORROR FLICK

The Japanese swore they sank her THREE TIMES. Torpedoes? Bombs? Kamikazes? HA! Enterprise just cackled, “Nice try, nerds!” and sailed back into the fight, her hull practically winking at the enemy. They called her the Grey Ghost because she was the ship equivalent of that unkillable slasher villain who keeps popping up behind you. Japanese sailors were shaking, whispering she was cursed—some thought the U.S. built fake Enterprises just to mess with their heads. Nope. Just one ship, too unhinged to sink, haunting their nightmares and making admirals soil their sashes.

OKINAWA: KAMIKAZES? MORE LIKE ANNOYING MOSQUITOES

At Okinawa, a kamikaze smashed her elevator into next Tuesday, and Enterprise just laughed. Her crew—probably fueled by coffee and pure spite—rigged a janky launch system faster than you can say “screw the manual” and kept yeeting planes at the enemy. Other ships would’ve limped home crying to mommy. Enterprise? She roared, “IS THAT ALL YOU GOT, PUNKS?” and kept the pain train rolling.

THE PRAYER THAT BROKE THE GODS

Post-Santa Cruz, her deck looking like a post-apocalyptic skate park, a chaplain held mass amid the wreckage, praying, “Keep this ship where she’s needed.” And she WAS. Every. Damn. Time. The crew swore she was divinely protected, and you try arguing with a ship that eats torpedoes for snacks and spits out victory. Enterprise wasn’t just blessed—she was the chosen one, anointed in gunpowder and glory.

THE SCORE: TWENTY BATTLES, ZERO CHILL

Twenty major battles—more than any other U.S. ship. Twenty battle stars. Over 900 enemy planes turned into scrap metal. Over 300 of her sailors and aviators went down swinging, their blood fueling her legend. Enterprise didn’t just fight—she steamrolled the Pacific, leaving a trail of Japanese wrecks and shattered egos. Japan threw everything at her, and she just grinned, “You’re gonna need a bigger navy.” SCRAPPED? NAH, SHE ASCENDED Decommissioned in ’47, scrapped by ’60—because the government couldn’t handle her radiance. Halsey begged to save her, but mortals don’t cage gods. Her stern plate, bell, and anchor sit like holy relics, proof of a war machine too wild for this planet. Enterprise didn’t get scrapped; she backflipped into Valhalla, probably buzzing Odin’s tower for the lulz. The Grey Ghost is out there, still stalking the cosmos, ready to dunk on any fool who dares challenge her.

FINAL SCREAM

The USS Enterprise (CV-6) wasn’t a ship—she was a steel tornado that shredded Japan’s navy and laughed in the face of death. On this Midway anniversary, we don’t salute her; we howl her name into the void, where she’s probably still doing donuts around Neptune.

Day 10 A-Great

Other Stories

Other Days

USCG Enterprise WCV-6 sat outside the Newport Shipyard, fighting off the urge to doze. It was a beautiful day, the sky was clear, with just enough of an ocean breeze to keep her cool. It wasn't often she could truly relax outside of port. Even now that she was in service with the Coast Guard, she almost always had aircraft aloft, patrolling the surrounding waters. She would launch her aircraft soon enough, but for now she was waiting.

The Navy had finally finished her successor. CVN-65, the first nuclear powered aircraft carrier. Enterprise didn't quite understand the concept, something about radioactive rocks making steam, but those in charge believed it was the future. CVN-65 was not only supposed to be the largest carrier afloat, but the fastest. Enterprise had been shown the stats for the new ship to bear her name, and she had to admit they were impressive.

A horn sounded, and she glanced up as a large bow rounded the corner. The ship that was revealed was nearly half again as long as her, over twice as wide at her widest point, and nearly three times her displacement. She was also brand new.

CVN-65 U.S.S Enterprise, eighth of her name was untested, had never seen combat, not even war games…but WCV-6 had a good feeling about her.

“Hello little sister, I've been ordered to oversee your sea trials.”

“Little sister?” CVN-65 glanced down at the lead tug guiding her curiously. “Aren't I the only member of my class so far?

The tug chuckled and spoke to WCV-6, “We hadn't told her about you yet, we wanted to surprise her.”

Enterprise chuckled, “Of course. CVN-65, has anyone told you the significance of the name you have been christened with?”

“The name Enterprise is one of the United States longest legacys,” CVN-65 recited dutifully, “from the first ship to bear the name serving in the revolutionary war,  to the latest and most famous of the line, the recently retired Yorktown class U.S.S. Enterprise CV-6, which served with distinction in the Pacific theater of the Second World War, becoming the most decorated American vessel of the war.”

The new supercarrier tilted her head curiously at the smaller carrier. “If it's not rude, may I ask what class you are? I don't recognize it, but you're oddly familiar…”

The tugboats and WCV-6 chuckled. “I've been refit since my Navy days,” the Carrier explained, “I am a Yorktown class.”

CVN-65’s eyes shot wide, “But that means…”

A whistle sounded and her Coast Guard Flag was lowered and replaced with the Flag of the United States Navy.

Le porte-avions USS Enterprise (CV-6) et derrière le porte-avions USS Lexington (CV-16) – Guerre du Pacifique – Océan Pacifique - Juin 1944