On August 21, 1958, an icon of American naval history made her final journey not across the vast expanse of the Pacific, but along the busy waterways of New York City. The USS Enterprise (CV-6)—the “Big E”—slowly moved past the Brooklyn Bridge, her once-mighty hull now silent and her decks emptied of aircraft and sailors. Surrounded by tugboats and under the gaze of thousands, she was en route to Kearny, New Jersey, where she would be dismantled for scrap.

Yet even as the ship passed under the Brooklyn Bridge that summer day, her presence commanded respect.

The Most Decorated Warship

Commissioned in 1938, the USS Enterprise played a pivotal role in nearly every major naval battle in the Pacific during World War II. She earned 20 battle stars—the most of any U.S. warship in the conflict—and was vital at battles like Midway, Guadalcanal, the Eastern Solomons, and Leyte Gulf. She survived bombings, torpedoings, and kamikaze attacks, gaining legendary status among her crews and America’s enemies alike. To servicemen and to the nation, she was more than a ship—she was a symbol of resolve and victory.

Her Final Journey

But, as with all legends, time eventually caught up with Enterprise. Advances in aviation and naval design made her obsolete in the postwar era, and successive attempts by veterans and supporters to save her as a museum sadly fell short due to funding and logistical challenges.

By 1958, her fate as a ship bound for the scrapyard was sealed.

As she made her passage up the East River, the once-towering tripod mast—by then a prominent feature—had been cut down to allow the vessel to clear the Brooklyn Bridge, a poignant reminder of how even heroes are humbled by the passage of time. Her flight deck, where Wildcats, Dauntlesses, and Avengers once roared into combat, was stripped of all but memories.

A City Pays Tribute

Crowds gathered along the riverbanks and on the Brooklyn Bridge itself, paying silent tribute to the ship that had once stood as a bulwark between freedom and tyranny. Workers in Manhattan’s skyscrapers leaned out of windows to catch a final glimpse. Navy veterans, some with tears in their eyes, saluted or quietly remembered fallen friends and hard-won victories.

With the help of sturdy tugs, the Enterprise was eased past New York’s iconic landmarks—a vessel out of her element, dwarfed by the city that had grown up in part because of the sacrifices made by her and her crew.

Legacy Never Scrapped

When she reached the scrapping yard in Kearny, New Jersey, the process of dismantling began—painful for those who loved her, yet inevitable. Although her steel would be melted down and scattered into factories and new buildings, the spirit of the “Big E” could never be destroyed.

Today, no physical trace remains of CV-6, but her story is still revered. Her successors have carried her name with pride, and any mention of “Enterprise” inspires awe from those who know the history. Museums, books, films, and the very spirit of the modern U.S. Navy keep her memory alive.

A Final Image

Imagine the scene: New York’s skyscrapers catching the last rays of summer sun, the Brooklyn Bridge looming overhead, and below, the battered but still majestic USS Enterprise making her last passage. Tugboats churn the East River as the most storied carrier of World War II, her tripod mast cut down in deference to modernity, slips quietly into history.

Her steel may have vanished, but her legend endures—forever the gallant “Big E” of the Pacific.