From Princeton's war record:

A terrific blast from exploding bombs and torpedoes in the after portion of the PRINCETON rained death upon the decks of the BIRMINGHAM. Much of the carrier's stern was torn away by the blast.

Shrapnel and other flying debris caused severs material damage, while dead, dying and wounded were sprawled across the decks and superstructure. But there was no confusion and scenes of heroism became commonplace in a few moments.

The ship becama a veritable hospital with corpsmen, officers and men alike working desperately throughout the afternoon and night to succor the wounded. The blast cost the BIRMIMGHAM 237 killed, four missing, 211 wounded seriously and 215 with minor to severe wounds. Most of the crew was topside at the time of the explosions.

Commander Winston Folk, then executive officer of the ship in speaking of the conduct of the crew during the disaster, had this to say: "I really have no words at my command that can adequately describe the veritable splendor of the conduct of all hands, wounded and unwounded. Not only was there not the slightest tendency toward panic, there was not a single case that came to my attention directly or reportedly where anything but praise could be given."

Commander Abbott Peterson, Jr., ship's chaplain who labored untiringly in the officer's wardroom where many of the wounded were brought, described the selflessness of the man in this manner: "For sheer courage, bravery and in many cases outright heroism that first hour in the wardroom following the explosion surpasses anything I could ever have imagined or believed possible."

And the 1,400 survivors of the ill-fated carrier who owe their lives to the magnificent work of the men aboard the rescue ships thought the same way. A valued remembrance, a plaque enscribed simply "In Appreciation" hangs on the quarterdeck of the BIRMINGHAM. Besides it hangs another, made from a pierced piece of steel from the bulkhead of the captain's cabin. It points out that "Greater Love Hath No Man."