TRUE SEA
STORIES
THE OLD
CHIEF
When we commissioned the
WILKES, we had 3 chief machinist mates, Rich, Meyers and Elzier. Elzier stands out in my mind. He had spent 20 years on active duty,
retired and went into the Fleet Reserve.
After retiring, he had married and they had a son. After 8 years of retirement, the
Navy called him back to active duty and to the WILKES. He commissioned her on
April 22, 1941.
He was assigned to the
Aux. Div. He was in charge of all shipboard machinery, except the main
propulsion machinery. He was
about five feet tall and about that big around. It was hard for him to get up and down
the ladder to the engine room, where he stood his watch. He spent a lot of time in the engine
room. In rough weather, he'd stay
there, even after going off watch.
He'd send the messenger to the galley to get his food. He was afraid of being washed
overboard. He used to say: "They
are going to get me killed, and beat me out of my
pension."
-------------------------
Another "Elzier Story": Elzier, by our standards, was getting
old. He thought he had done
enough time at sea. He had only 2
more years to go his full 30 years and full pension. He was Chief of the "A" Division
and hadn't bothered to learn the engine rooms. He stood his watch in the controlling
engine room.
Now, I know it was wrong,
but a fellow needed a little fun at sea.
Chief Elzier would sit on his rag can and watch the vacuum gauge. That seemed to be his biggest
concern. If it didn't look right
to him, he would get up and walk over to the gauge and tap it. Some times the hand would come up a
little bit.
A fellow named Bosco stood
the throttle watch. When the Chief wasn't looking, Bosco would
close the valve to the main vacuum gauge. In a little while, the hand would come
down a little. When Elzier saw
it, he would tap it lightly, if it didn't come up, he would yell "Someone do
something about this vacuum."
Everyone on the upper level knew what was going on, except the
Chief. We would worry with him
and walk around, looking for the trouble. While this was going on, Bosco would
open up the valve to the vacuum gauge.
Everything cleared up and Elzier was happy. He never did find out how we "fixed" the vacuum.
------------------------
NEW
SHIP
Her (WILKES) life started
when the fire room gang built her first fire under her boilers. As the steam pressure came up and the
steam started hissing through her steam lines, the turbines started turning
the pumps and generators, giving her life. She still lives in the hearts and
minds of the men, who took her to sea.
80 enlisted men and 16 officers from the fleet, gathered in Boston, to
be assigned to the WILKES. I had come from the west coast, having served on
the CALIFORNIA (BB 44). On the
first morning, we walked down to the docks, where she lay, I said to Bill
Hawkins, "She's beautiful, but sure is small." He says: " No, she ain't, she's
big". He had come from an old 4
stacker, the GEORGE E. BADGER.
The crew and officers
spent our days aboard the ship.
The shipyard workers taught us about the ship. We held dock trials for a few
days. Then one day, we took her
to sea for the first time. THAT
WAS THE DAY!! She cut the water
smooth and easy. She was a fine
sight to see. We engineers were
learning the power plant and the topside people were learning their end of the
ship. So the day came for the big
test that she must pass before the Navy would accept the ship from the
shipyard and into the fleet.
We started out early one
morning, cleared the harbor and started to build up speed. About every hour, Captain Kelsey rang
up some more turns on the engines.
He gave us about an hour to let the engines adjust to the turns of the
screws, and the plant running smoothly.
After about 8 hours, we had her at flank speed, a little over 39
knots. The fire rooms used the
largest burner tips they had, making all the steam all 4 boilers could
produce. The engines, wide open,
produced 50,000 horse power.
The Captain ordered Crash
Astern, at the same time a buoy was dropped from the bow. The throttles were swung from wide
open forward to wide open astern, by opening one throttle valve, as the other
was being closed. This sent 600
pounds of 800 degree-super heated steam from the HP (high pressure) forward
engines to the reverse engines. I
don't know how the people on top side made out, but in the engineering dept.,
we all had to grab onto something to keep our feet. I watched the 14 inch main steam lines
shake and seem to roll around in their hangers. Everything worked and held. The ship
had passed her first test. She
was able to stop and back down, within her own length. We were liking the ship better
each day.
On April 22, 1941 we put
her in Commission. We got another
80 men right out of Boot Camp, to round out the crew. We were READY!!!
------------------------
FROZEN
SEA
When in the North
Atlantic, at night, I was on the throttles, the bridge called down, saying
"get on your turns." I looked and
I was down on the RPM, so I brought the turns back to 45 RPM-1/3 speed. I was puzzled, as 250 pounds on the
cruising engine had always turned up 45 RPM. The phone from the bridge rang
again. The bridge was raising
hell, I was down on the RPM's again!!
I opened the cruising throttle wide open, using the full 600 pound
pressure and it still wasn't enough.
The cruising engine would not get up the turns. Ashbacker put down the phone and ran
for the HP engines. Nate called
the bridge and told them we were on HP engines to keep the turns up, and that
just wasn't right, for 1/3 speed.
The bridge got curious, turned on their search light and found we were
steaming in a huge ice field. The
sea had turned the ice into a mush.
The OOD turned the ship and with the HP engines at full power, we got
out of the ice.
Another ice story: In our first winter, in the North
Atlantic, ice formed topside and the deck gang had to chop it off the ship.
The ship was top heavy and with all the weight of the ice, she could have
rolled over. Our Aux Div wrapped
the boat davits and other things, with quarter inch copper tubing connected to
the 150 pound steam line. At sea,
as ice formed, we ran steam through the copper lines. That kept most of the ice off and made
it a lot easier on the deck gang and safer for the ship.
-----------------------
THE
GROUNDING
Much has been written
about our grounding Feb 18,1942, however, much still has to be written to give
the full story, from the perspective of the crew members. Captain Kelsey had been an engineering
officer in the Boston Ship yard, before taking command of our ship. He knew and understood the engines and
the horse power we had. After we
ran aground, he turned the engines every way but loose, backing at full power,
trying to get off the rocks. He
called for flank back on one engine and hard over rudder to keep the ship
straight and not allow her to get parallel to the rocks. He kept this up until we did back
free. He also ordered the taking
off excess weight forward and for the topside people to shift their weight
aft.
I had just been relieved
from the throttles in the forward engine room and was in a wash room, when we
hit. I went right down to the
engine room, but wasn't needed. I
remembered that the spring bearing in the after fire room had overheated in
the past. The way the CO was
using the engines at such high RPM, I thought it wise to go back to check on
the bearing. Sure enough the
bearing was hot. You couldn't
hold your hand on it. A few more
minutes, the bearing would "wipe" and then we'd be in real trouble. Nate Ashbacker and Bill Hawkins were
back there by this time and we decided to turn a salt water hose on the
bearing, to keep it cool. There
wasn't any time for anything else.
We kept the bearing from "wiping." A few months later, when we had a
chance, we pulled the bearing and repaired it properly.
A couple of years ago,
after I had found RADM Kelsey, CO at the time, we were talking over the
phone. I told him what we had
done and why we hadn't told him at the time.
I guess he was glad he
didn't know, as that would have been one more thing to be concerned with.
----------------------
CLOSE
CALL
We were escorting a convoy
in the North Atlantic and one night we had a very close call with a sub,
firing torpedoes at us. As we
have said the ship was "lucky", but we made some of the luck. At any rate one of the lookouts
spotted 3 torpedoes coming. The
CO, "Wolf" rang up flank speed + and he turned the ship every way but
loose. By the Grace of --, all
missed, one passed the stern by about 6 feet. You know it was hot down in the engine
rooms, but that kind of stuff really makes a man sweat!
------------------------
ANOTHER CLOSE
CALL
We were in the North
Atlantic, escorting a convoy. The
sea was running about 25 feet.
The order of the day--"stay off the weather decks"!! But I guess we all cheated some
times. A man came out of one of
the doors, port side, as the ship rolled to starboard. As he got the door batted shut, the
ship lurched to port. A big wave
hit him and carried him over board.
The ship moved forward and rolled to starboard, and then back to
port. The last roll and wave,
washed him back on board on the fantail.
The lookout on the after deck house, saw him tangled up in the life
lines and called for help.
Several crew members responded and pulled him back on board.
GROUNDING IN
BIZERTE
We had done some shore
bombardment on our way from Mers-el Kebir to Bizerte and the Captain wanted to
get into the harbor at Bizerte.
We were the first American ship to enter since the Germans
surrendered. The Germans had
scuttled a ship in the mouth of the harbor entrance. We tried to pass between the partially
sunken ship and the beach.
However, we raked the rocks with our starboard side and damaged our
starboard screw.
I was in the engine room,
and we could feel and hear something and it sounded bad. We went in and anchored, but a short
time later, the CO go underway to see what sort of damage was done. The ship had a very bad vibration at 5
knots, so it was obvious something was seriously wrong.
Lt. Johnson, assistant
engineering officer, got a makeshift diving mask that he and H.S. Smith,
boiler maker, had been experimenting with. Smith wanted to get into the salvage
business after the war and was a very strong swimmer. Lt. Johnson got a good look at the
damage and it was quite severe.
He drew a sketch of the damage.
It was decided that the damaged parts of the tips of the screw had to
be cut off. The tips of the screw
were damaged about 6-8 inches and very jagged and bent. The question was, how and by
whom? The nearest tender was
several hundred miles to the West.
Also, we were scheduled to make the invasion of Sicily, in a few
days. Our Commodore was to be in
charge of the shore fire at the beachhead. So it was up to the ship to do what it
could to get the ship ready to go.
Our ship wasn't equipped
to do such work, but we improvised.
I learned that the propellers were considered to be part of the Aux.
Div's responsibility. I was the
machinist mate in charge of the Div., as there was no CPO. So I got the job. Smith volunteered to help. We dove
down and looked over the damage.
We agreed it was bad.
Lt. Johnson found a diving
helmet and an underwater cutting torch.
Smith wore the diving mask and I had the diving helmet. We rigged a stage from the propeller
shaft and one of the struts, then tied it down so it would not float out of
place. It would give us a place
to stand on and work.
The cutting torch did not
work. It would go out before we
were underwater more than 3 feet.
We had to find another way to cut off the damaged tips and smooth them
off. We discovered the hard way,
that bronze won't cut, and had to
try to melt the tips off. We
never did figure out why the torch didn't work under water. In looking back, we probably didn't
have enough air hooked up.
Next we tried the 100
pound air chipping hammer. The
electricians had rigged me a sound powered phone in the diving helmet. Smith was wearing the diving mask and
handling the chipping hammer.
When Smith was ready, I called over the phone to get the air turned
on. The hammer blew a lot of
bubbles, but would hardly strike the blade. It didn't have enough power to cut the
metal.
We couldn't stay down much
longer, so we decided to go up and talk things over. We decided to increase the air
pressure, until it did cut. I
asked Larry Kelly to start up the high pressure air compressor. I told him to run it up to 3000 pounds
and reduce it into the 100 pound line, which we were working with.
Smith and I got back on
the stage at the screw and waited.
Smith held the chisel in the air hammer against the damaged parts of
the screw. The hammer started
rattling and then the metal started rolling off. The rig was cutting, as slick as a
whistle. I called Kelly to hold
the air pressure he had, and asked what it was. They called back, saying, 1000 pounds.
That scared the hell out of me,
thinking the hose might burst. I
thought it would fly away from us if it broke, if it did not beat us up
first. So I held on to the hose
and let Smithy keep going. The
damaged blade tip was rolling off very well.
When we finished 1 blade,
we asked the forward engine room to engage the jacking gear to roll the screw
over, to bring the next blade in position. We did the same, on the other 2
blades. Smithy did a wonderful
job in cutting and smoothing the screw blades.
As I recall this whole job
took about 3 days. We got
interrupted several times by German air attacks. When they came, we had to stop and get
out of the water. When the raids
stopped, we got back in the water and back to work. Also, the people on the surface picked
up several dead German bodies that floated by the ship.
After we were done, the
Captain took the ship out to sea and gave it a try. We got to 25 kts without too much vibration. A couple of years ago, I was talking
to Jack Mast, who was in the after engine room. He said they rang up flank speed on
the port engine. The they brought
the starboard engine up until it started vibrating. That combination gave us the 25
kts. We felt confident, we could
go to Sicily. Later, we went into
the dry-dock in the Brooklyn Navy Yard and got a new screw. The Captain gave Smithy and I a
commendation in our Service Record.
-----------------------
A MAN LOST IN THE SOUTH
WEST PACIFIC
The Wilkes did not lose a
man to the enemy, but we did lose one man to the SEA - our oldest enemy. We had come South, away from the
shooting, and got a little time for some recreation. We were at Windy Island-a small
island, and some of the crew got liberty to go ashore to swim and play some
softball. There was a small atoll
about 50 or so feet away from the beach.
H. S. Smith, probably the strongest swimmer on the ship, swam out to
this small island. He came back
exhausted. He told everyone:
"don't anyone go in that strip of water.
I almost didn't make it.
There is a strong under current."
Knowing Smithy, the word was passed for everyone to stay clear of that
strip of water.
There was a young fireman
in the group. He had just come on
board in NYC before we left. He
said he was a very strong swimmer and he knew he could make it across. He was told: "If Smitty says it is a strong current
and to stay out, then don't try to swim it."
The men went on with the
softball game and when they loaded up the ship's boat to come back to the
ship, this young man couldn't be found.
Later, his body was found-drowned.
He was buried on Windy
Island. He was Harold Firebaugh,
F 1/C.
ICE CREAM MACHINE
Before we got the ice
cream machine, we could only make ice in the ice machine. It could only make 45 pounds at a time
- 3 cans- 15 pounds each. For the
whole crew, that wasn't much ice, especially in North Africa and Med. We used to make ice cream in the ice
machine, but only for ourselves.
Bill Hawkins caught me doing this several times. I had to inspect the ice boxes for
leaks, right after the noon meal.
Morago, the chief cook, had to unlock the boxes for my inspection. I wasn't in any hurry and Morago had
to leave. I used to get eggs,
sugar, milk and bumed the
flavoring from the Officer's Mess, to make ice cream. When it froze, I'd take it out, eat
what I wanted and passed the rest to the engineering gang. I never forgot to give the officer's
cook a healthy ration.
When we got the machine, I
put in $10-good for 10 shares in the machine. Morago went ashore in NYC with $700 to
buy the machine, along with a supply of ice cream powder. The going rate was 5 cents a dip, $1 a
gallon. The ice cream was sold to
the General Mess, CPO Mess and Officer's Mess. When the machine was paid for, the
shareholders got their money back.
If a man was transferred, he got paid when he
left.
Roy Bean and Johnson, one
of the ship's cooks ran the machine.
When the machine was all paid off, Morago suggested, we give the
machine to the ship. He
then could buy ice cream powder in place of canned fruit, and serve ice cream
with our dinner, 3 times a week.
The crew voted approval and the CO agreed, so the machine was given to
the ship. It was placed in the
mess hall. It was a fine
deal. I'd guess not many cans had
their very own ice cream machine.
------------------------
OUR GOOD DOCTOR-ABOVE AND
BEYOND THE CALL OF DUTY
Our first ship's doctor,
was Doc Trombetta, who is a retired Captain now. When Boston was still our home port,
my wife, Ann, got quite ill on a Sunday.
We called a civilian doctor, who came and said he must put Ann in the
hospital the next morning.
(appendicitis). I returned the ship early Monday morning. The Chief Engineer, Lt Bill Smyth had
the deck. I told him my problem
and asked for special liberty. He
told me to make out a request for 7days leave and he'd sign it. When I got back on deck with my
request, Doc Trombetta had returned to the ship. Mr. Smyth told him about Ann. Doc said, "If you like, I will go
see your wife, as soon as I take
a shower and change clothes.'' I
was very surprised and said I would surely appreciate it he would. He got to my apartment shortly after I
did. He examined Ann and said "I
don't know what is wrong, but it's not appendicitis. He gave Ann some pills from his bag
and me a bottle, saying "bring me a sample in the morning." I called the civilian doctor and
canceled. I took the sample back
to the ship for the next 5 mornings.
The lab in the Navy Yard ran their tests. I took the reports back to Doc. He gave me pills for Ann and she got
well. She had a kidney
infection.
----------------------
ENGINEERING
TALES
One day Ashbacker, who was
in charge of the forward engine room, came to me. I was in charge of the Aux. Div. They had been having trouble with loss
of vacuum on the main condenser.
This happened when using both, the main condensate and booster
pump. He had been studying the
blue prints and discovered a 1/8" orifice in the divider between the
condensate and booster pump case.
He thought the loss of vacuum was through that orifice. He couldn't get anyone to listen to
him and agree to open up the pump. The engineering officers knew it would
take an OK from the Bureau of Engineering to close up that orifice. I told Ashbacker, "If you want to do
it, we'll stay on board tonight and when they go ashore, you can open up the
pump and I'll close that orifice."
We did. While he opened up
the pump, I dropped a torch down into the engine room from the machine
shop. I brazed the orifice closed
and he closed up the pump. I told
him, if it doesn't work, we can drill it open again. It worked!!! No more trouble and no one ever
knew.
---------------------
HOT
BUNK
We all recall how terribly
hot it was in the New Guinea area.
I had a bunk in the top center, outboard row of the forward engineer's
compartment. A fresh air duct
came down to within 6" of the deck at each end of my bunk. I cut holes in each duct and made
deflectors to direct air over my body.
I also made plugs to cover the holes when I wasn't in the bunk. I painted the plugs gray to match the
rest of the duct (so it wouldn't be seen by any nosy inspecting officer). One day, Joe Ponzi, who slept just
under me, noticed the fresh air blowing over me. The next day he came to me and
said that "Bayus just ate his a--- out".
He said he asked Bayus if he could cut a hole in the duct at the end of
his bunk"? Bayus wanted to know
what gave him that idea? Joe
said: "John has 2 by his bunk". A
couple of days later, Bayus came down to look over my bunk. I happened to come by and he saw
me. We looked at each other,
neither said a word. Bayus just
turned and went up the ladder.
When I broke my leg, and
had to leave the ship, Bill Hawkins told everyone "John's bunk is
mine!!!!"
FAIR
TRADE
When we first got our 40mm
guns, the ship test fired them. I
got one of the empty brass cases.
I cut it down about 2" and turned out a dummy projectile for it on the
ship's lathe. I needed a nice
base for my lamp. Now the
officer's wardroom had a wall clock with a mahogany base on the forward
bulkhead-starboard side. I got a
nice piece of oak and made it into a base. I then made a deal with the mess
treasurer to make an exchange. I
got the mahogany base, the officers' mess got the new oak one. Everyone was
happy.
This lamp is still
standing on my night stand by my bed.
Each of my children, grand children and now my great grandsons are
spinning the helmsman wheel on that lamp. I made the wheel out of a valve wheel
from the forward engine room.
------------------------
CO'S NEW
HAT
About March 1943, Our new
CO, the "Wolf" got unofficial word that he had been selected to be promoted to
Commander. He leaked the word, so
the engineering dept. decided it would be a nice gesture, if they all chipped
in and bought him his new cap with the "scrambled eggs". So we raised $75 and bought him the
new hat, along with new shoulder boards, and silver oak leaves for the shirt
collar. We made a nice
presentation ceremony. He was
very pleased with our gesture.
Keep in mind that $75 was a princely amount in
1943.
BEER IN
WESTPAC
As the war progressed,
regulations on beer was relaxed.
On one of the islands, where we stopped for supplies, we took on some
cases of beer for our next liberty.
Ed Palchak and others were in the working party, bringing the beer on
board. Ed would "stumble" as he
approached the machine shop door.
The case he was carrying, just happened to fall from his shoulder,
right through the door, and right down the engine room hatch. Where someone just happened to be
standing - to catch it - so didn't break the bottles. Then the case found its way into the
bilge. Amazing!!
Later, Ed was to relieve
the messenger on my watch at midnight.
The messenger called and said "I can't get Palchak up." When I was relieved, I went down to
Ed's bunk. He had a real snoot
full! The angle iron by his bunk
was full of empty bottles and he still had some full ones under his
mattress. I asked the messenger
to take Ed's watch, which he did.
Ed made it up to the man for taking his watch.
Above contributed by JOHN
MERCER
==========================
THE GROUNDING--- STRENGTH
THRU FEAR
We were plowing through
very rough seas, a blizzard was blowing, all around us, on the way to
Newfoundland. About 0400, GQ
sounded, along with the collision siren.
We all felt a "strong hit", which went all over the ship.
I went to my battle
station, up by the bow. I
couldn't see very much, because of the heavy, blowing snow and wind. I looked down and saw rocks. I couldn't believe my eyes, but the
more I looked, the bigger the rocks seemed to be. I thought, some reason the ship was on
the beach and I'd better get off the bow and back to mid-ships. As I was headed back, an officer, I
can't remember who, told me to move a barrel from the machine shop to the
stern. I picked up the barrel and
carried it aft, with no problem.
We finally got off the
rocks and into Argentia for repairs.
A few days later, I saw the same barrel on the fantail. I kicked it with my foot and almost
broke 2 toes. I tried to lift it,
but couldn't budge it, as it was to heavy. That proved the old saying, "When you
are afraid, you have tremendous strength and can move
mountains."
PS-- Cassie Brown in her
book "Standing into Danger" had my name wrong--Robert Ponti instead of J.
Ponzi
-----------------------
TOO CLOSE FOR
COMFORT
We were anchored either in
Oran or Bizerte, I can't remember which one, but during the night, GQ
sounded. I ran to my station in
the after steering engine room.
All hell broke loose, as we were under a German air attack. The CO ordered steam up fast, so we
could get underway and out of the harbor. Other ships joined us.
I kept in touch with the
bridge by sound power phones, when Roger, he had the phone on the bridge, said
to me "Joe, there is something coming real fast and headed for the stern. "Roger, Roger--How far is it? "Joe, 200 yards-OK-over" "Roger, for Pete's sake, how far is it
now?" "Joe, --100 yards. "OK,
Roger, let me know when it is 50 yards, because I'm getting the H--- out of
here." "Joe, will do." A few minutes went by and Roger said"
Joe, it was a frigate and it went by us.
By God, it sure was going fast."
"OK, Thanks Roger."
It was hot in that small
room in the stern. Hot--I had
cold sweat running down my face.
Call me chicken, but with all that TNT (depth charges) right above my
head, I sure didn't feel good and brave about it.
------------------------
THE LONGEST HOUR OF MY
LIFE
We were going from Oran to
Bizerte and I was standing watch in the forward engine room, when a call came
down from the bridge "Joe Ponzi lay up to the bridge, on the double." I had no
idea what Capt Wolsieffer wanted.
I saw Bill Mosher on the main deck and asked him, why the CO wanted
me? He had no idea. He did say we had just picked up a
French harbor pilot and he couldn't speak any English. When I got to the
bridge, the Captain told me I was supposed to be an interpreter because the
pilot couldn't speak English. I
figured, that's no problem, but as I spoke Italian to him, he looked a me and
said in French "I don't speak Italian, only French!" O Boy! By now I'm in trouble. I turned to the pilot and said in
French "Please talk slow and I will understand you, if you talk fast, I will
not!"
As we got close to the
entrance of the harbor, there was a sunken ship on our port side and a lot of
rocks on the starboard. The
current was very fast in that narrow passage. As we got closer, the French pilot
kept saying "Mon Captain plus vite", which means-"more speed." So I hollered too,"faster, faster
skipper!" The Captain said to me
"Hell, he has enough speed!" At
that time, if I could, I would have jumped over and pushed the ship
faster. Any rate the current-or
whatever- took us on the rocks on the starboard side. We bent the blades on the starboard
screw and the ship started to vibrate like a bronco.
Now the best part is
coming: We get ready to anchor
and the Captain asked me to find out how deep is the harbor. The pilot is talking in meters and we
in fathoms ( 6 feet to a fathom-- a little over 3 feet to a meter). With the vibration of the ship, the
confusion with the languages and all that went with it, I wished I was far
away.
The Skipper let go the
anchor and we never did touch bottom.
We tried a few more times before we finally did anchor. I thought it wise if I left the bridge
and asked the Skipper it I could leave.
I didn't even wait for his answer and I was gone.
JOSEPH PONZI
--CPO
================
DOGGEREL
There is an old Navy
saying that applies to both military and civilian life.
"When in trouble, when in
doubt--run in circles, scream and shout:
"RELIEVE THE WATCH!!!!!"
------------------------
NOSTALGIA --- 1941
In June 1941- 2 months
after our commissioning, the following were making the headlines and
by-lines.
President Roosevelt calls
rumors of peace--Nazi Propaganda.
Ex-Kaiser Wilhelm dies at age 82, in Holland. Sec of State Hull warns France of
reprisals, if she joins war on Britain.
Free French forces, supported by British, invade Syria and
Lebanon.
Round of Applause: Best film--"Citizen Kane". Academy Award--"How Green Was My
Valley. Best Actor: Gary Cooper in "Sgt. York". Best Actress-- Joan Fontaine, in
"Suspicion."
Sports: Bob Feller, Cleveland Indian pitcher,
signs a $30,000 per year contract.
Reportedly becoming the highest paid pitcher in baseball's
history.
Craig Wood captured the U.
S. Open.
"Whirlaway" wins the
Belmont and the Triple Crown.
Bill Tilden beaten. Don Budge and Fred Perry vie for the
professional tennis championship at Forest Hills.
Cleveland Rams of NFL sold
to Dan Reeves and Fred Levy for a reported $140,000.
Financial: U. S. debt passes $45 billion
mark.
Dow Jones at
117.60
Federal Budget nearly
$17.5 billion. $10.8 billion
earmarked for National Defense.
------------------------
NAVY RECRUITING POSTER
---1941
"COLLEGE MEN WANTED
(Graduates, Seniors, Junior, Sophomores)
To be Naval Officers
You want to serve your
country. Why not serve where your
college training will do the most good?
DECK AND ENGINEERING
OFFICERS: The Navy needs 7000
Seniors, now in college or College Graduates, as possible officers. Seniors will not be called to active
duty before next June. They will
have time to graduated.
In addition, the Navy
needs 5000 men now in their Junior year in college as prospective
officers. If you enlist today,
you may complete your education and graduate in 1943.
After graduation, you will
receive a 30 day preliminary training course. If found qualified, you will be given
further training as Midshipman, USNR, at $65 per month and allowances. Upon successful completion of this
training, you will be commissioned as Ensign, USNR, at $125 a month and
allowances.
All applicants must be
native born citizens of the United States, unmarried, and between the ages of
19 and 27, inclusive."
====================
ANOTHER ICE CREAM MACHINE
STORY
When we bought the ice
cream machine, it was locked away only to be used by authorized people. The ice cream mix came in 1 gal cans
and was not stowed below decks in a safe place. Who would steal the
mix?
During the night, when it
was hot and the crew in the engine room a little hungry, we devised a plan to
have some ice cream. The forward engine room was responsible for taking
readings on the ice machine. The
ice maker was near the ice cream machine. The ice machine could make 4-25 pounds
cakes of ice. The top of the
machine was padlocked with a hasp and lock. We'd appropriate a can of ice cream
mix and then send a man to the ice machine room. He had a hammer, punch, electric drill
and a long brazing rod, bent at a
90 degree angle, about 1 inch from the end. He would knock out the pins of the
lid, thus by-passing the lock.
He would then pull out one
block of ice and discard it. He'd
then would pour the mix, with the right amount of water into the can. He'd then put a brazing rod in the
drill and then stir the mix, until it was frozen. Then the ice cream was taken to the
engine room, for the watch to enjoy.
After we had our fill, we would share the rest with the other
engineering spaces.
We'd then clean things
up. Refill the can with water,
replace the pins in the hinges.
By morning the ice would be frozen and all would be normal, no one the
wiser.
INGENUITY!
-----------------------
LOADING
STORES
One day while loading
stores, a watermelon "happened" to find it's way into the forward engine
room. In order for the whole
engine room crew to enjoy this melon, we had the word passed on the PA
system. "All men in the forward
engine room, lay down to the
forward engine room." This
was the same word passed when we were having trouble and needed help.
The melon was cut and was
being passed around to everyone.
We looked up, as a pair of khaki covered legs came down the
ladder. Who showed up, but the
Chief Engineering Officer. He
looked around and saw what was going on.
He said " I thought you were having trouble down here." He then turned around and went back up
the ladder.
HAROLD WARFIELD, MM 1/c
========================
LOSS OF
SHIPMATES
In the North Atlantic, we
and the other cans in our Division were escorting a convoy going to
England. On the way, in very bad
weather, the INGRAHAM was hit by the CHEMUNG. The INGRAHAM was sunk. She went down very quickly and only 6
or 8 men were saved. Just before
we left port, we transferred several men to her. As far as I know they were
lost.
------------------------
CONVOYING
In March 1941, I reported
on board the WILKES for duty, in the pre-commissioning detail. In looking back on my Naval career of
22 years, my duty on the WILKES (2 years 68 days) was the most exciting and
noteworthy. We were on convoy
duty in the North Atlantic, prior to the start of the War. We would stop at Argentia,
Newfoundland and Reykjavik, Iceland.
We took some convoys to Britain, and a few British corvettes would come
out and relieve us. Sometimes
after dropping the ships off, we'd hear explosions in a distance, as the
German subs would attack. We'd
then take another convoy, going west bound.
We were in a convoy, on
Dec 7th, when the XO announced over the PA that the Japs had attacked Pearl
Harbor, and it would only be a matter of time before we would be in the
war. We got orders to take the convoy into
Londonderry, Northern Ireland. We
were the first US warship to enter a British port during WWII. There is a plaque in the port to mark
the event. When we docked, we
were warmly greeted by many Navy Yard workers, from Boston. They had been sent to help repair
ships in No. Ireland. We also
took convoys into Greenock, Scotland.
After all this time, it is
hard to remember dates, but the events all come back. We went to Portland, Me for gunnery
and depth charge practice. It was
so cold the oil in the 5" guns
froze, so we couldn't
fire. It was so windy when we got
back to port and anchored, our anchor chain parted and we lost 45 fathom of
chain and the anchor. We grappled
for the anchor and almost had it on board, when the grapple straightened out
and we lost it.
Our next mishap happened
while escorting the supply ship, POLLUX, in company with the TRUXTON. I can truthfully say, it was the most
miserable night of my career. The
seas were very rough and you couldn't see in front of you. I was on watch in the director,
and all of a sudden, we were aground.
I saw 2 lights to starboard.
Our Captain Kelsey took over. But for the Grace of God and
Capt. Kelsey, we may have ended
up like the POLLUX and TRUXTON.
We backed down for over 3 1/2 hours and discharged 35,000 gals of
fuel. We also dropped one anchor
and 75 fathoms of chain on the rocks to lighten the ship. The crew also sallied the ship. Finally we broke loose and tried to
find ways to help the other 2 ships-no luck. The seas were running the wrong
way.
In August 1992, a group
from the WILKES, went up to Newfoundland on the 50th anniversary of the
grounding. The actual
date was Feb 18th, but you couldn't go in the dead of winter. We all got a royal welcome. A statute was dedicated to the
shipmates lost and the brave miners who saved the rest. We got VIP treatment for the 5
days we were there.
We came back to Boston
Navy Yard for repairs. On the
way, all the conning was done from the flying bridge, as we came through ice
floes and passed icebergs. The
Commander they put in charge, must have been in a hurry, as he didn't spare
the horses getting to Boston. We
were flooded from the bow to the forward engine room bulkhead. When we got to Boston, we off loaded
ammo, etc. and went into the Yard for repairs. All those living in the area got leave
and liberty.
The next trip after
getting repaired, we were on our way to Portland, Me, when a British ship
rammed us in the port side, right in #1 fire room. No one was hurt, but two of the men on
bridge watch, stepped over on the other ship and rode to NYC on it. So back to Boston again to be
fixed. The Yard had to cut out a
part of the keel and replace it.
Once fixed, we were again doing convoy duty until the invasion of North
Africa.
In the invasion of
Casablanca, our Division was assigned to send the landing craft with men and
supplies to the beach. We
anchored off the beach head and had the anchor chain tied off with line, so in
case of an emergency, we could slip the anchor and chain and get underway
immediately. Luckily we didn't
have to do that.
I was the pointer in the
director. We got the word to "commence firing." I'll tell you, all hell broke
loose. After the beach was
secured, we got the job of going in the harbor to make sure there were no
mines, etc.
Until the invasion of
Sicily, we did more convoy duty.
In Bizerte, we ran aground and damaged our starboard screw. On the invasion, I never saw so many
ships and planes at sea, at one time, in my whole career. All through the invasion and all the
way back to NYC, we thumped and thumped.
I left the ship in NY and
went to new construction-USS PICKING (DD 685).
ED
KELLY--CBM
===================
PEACE TIME
UNIFORMS
Bill Smyth was the first
engineering officer on the ship.
When he first reported to the WILKES, it was still under construction
at the Boston Navy Yard.
Some admiral decided to call an inspection of all officers on the base,
and in their full dress uniforms.
War hadn't been declared.
Over the years, most of the officers had gained weight. In order to fit into their uniforms,
they kept the Boston tailors up most of the night altering the uniforms.
Most of the enlisted men
had never seen such uniforms, (wide gold braid on the trousers, frock coats,
and above all, the "John Paul Jones" hats). When he was dressed in his
uniform, Bill went down to the engine room to see that everything was in
order. The look on the face's of
the men were priceless and they tried not to laugh. Bill said the them: "the first one who
laughs, will be court martialed!"
Of course, they all roared!
CHERISHED
GIFT
Bill was presented with a
Seth Thomas chime clock, when he left the WILKES. It has a brass plate on it saying:
"Presented to Lt. Smyth, from Engineers Force, U.S.S. WILKES, 4-15-42."
It was his pride and joy
and mine too. When we moved, it
was the first thing unpacked. It
is still in a place of honor, in my dining room. Bill was proud of his service on the
WILKES, until he passed away with cancer in 1987.
MRS. WILLIAM SMYTH
=======================
MY FIRST DAY ON THE
WILKES
On April 11, 1944, Buna,
NG, I left the PING WO in a LCVP and was taken to the flagship, where I waited
for about 2 hours, until the whale boat from the "W" came and picked me
up. I rode to the ship, along
with 10 bags of mail. We got to
the ship, and I threw my val-pack up on the deck. Then I climbed 5 feet, up a short
ladder, saluted the OOD and asked permission to come aboard. I was welcomed by the OOD and my
orders were taken. I was logged
in and then escorted to the wardroom.
Dinner had already been eaten and the Captain and several officers were
sitting at the table, drinking coffee. I was introduced to the CO and
the others. Then it was discussed
were I would be sleeping, as all the staterooms were full. Finally it was decided I would bunk in
the CPO's quarters in the forward part of the ship. I followed my escort through the
wardroom, past the officer's staterooms, through the upper handling room for
gun #1, and into the Chief's quarters.
I stowed my clothes in the small space provided and picked out an empty
bunk. I don't think the Chiefs
were too pleased to have an ensign living in their quarters. Space was very
limited and everyone had to share 2 "heads".
--------------------------
PICKING UP DITCHED
PILOTS
When we were operating
with the carriers, if my memory serves me correctly, we picked up about 22
pilots out of the water. Most of
them were pilots of F6F and TBM's.
They would have to "ditch" their planes due to running out of fuel or
battle damage. Many times the
planes circling around the formation, waiting their turn to land, had damaged
tail and wings surfaces. Some
didn't make it and had to "ditch".
Then the cans would go out to pick them up. We'd go alongside their carrier and
hi-line them back. The carriers
would give us ice cream in gratitude. I also recall picking up crews
from B-29's, "ditching" after raids on Japan. They would be floating on their rafts
and we'd pick them up.
------------------------
SY
DENNIS
The first watch I ever
stood was JOOD (in port), with Sy Dennis. It was a mid-watch and I thought the 4
hours would never end. All I
remember Sy talking about, was the fact he had been on board 18 months and his
relief would come aboard soon. He
thought he'd be going back to the States for new construction. He referred to the WILKES as "this
bucket". This was not the last
time, I heard that term of "endearment."
Sy Dennis was one of the
finest gentleman, I ever had the pleasure of knowing. I feel fortunate that I was to spend
that final two months in Pearl, going to school with him. He was a man of character and
ability. He didn't return to the
ship, as he had enough points to get out of the Navy and I never saw him
again.
Several years ago, my wife
and I traveled to Northern Calif and we intended to go by and visit him. However, he was on vacation and we
missed him. His son wrote me, not
long after that, that Sy and his wife were tragically killed in a car accident
while visiting his home state of Texas.
-----------------------
CHARACTERS
One time, I was OOD, while
at anchor in Buna, NG., when Buck O'Berry came swimming, on his back, around
the ship. He had just made (JG)
and he was tossed overboard by his Division, to christen his new 1/2
stripe.
We looked forward to the
few times we were in port. It
meant mail, movies and a little more sack time. Sometimes we got to go ashore for a
beer. We, in the Comm Dept.,
always got to go ashore or to the flagship to pick up Registered Pubs at the
RPIO.
One of the things we did
in the Wardroom, was our daily crap game in one of the staterooms, before and
after dinner. We used paper clips
for money but I can't remember anyone paying off. Ted Simmons, the Supply Officer, lead
the "quartet" in singing off color songs. A couple had pretty good voices.
When CDR Wolfsieffer was
CO, he presided over the evening meal.
He was always telling us how our meals were not like those at the "21"
club in NYC. He'd expand on how
he fashioned himself to be a "gourmet diner" and a judge of fine wine and
ladies. He'd get steak, while we
got lesser fare (i.e. Aussie lamb or Spam).
I'd guess everyone has
their own tales about the "Wolf".
He was, to say the least, one of the real characters I have ever come
across. One time, we tied up
alongside the FLETCHER, the first ship of its class. At that time, it was the very latest
thing out in Destroyers. There
was a LCDR on the wing of their bridge.
From our bridge, you could almost reach out and touch him. The Wolf, who was a CDR at the time,
said "Who is your Capt.?" He
replied "I am." No more words
were exchanged. The "perfect
squelch."
We were pulling into
Humbolt Bay at Hollandia, N.G., and it became apparent we would pass close to
the Australian Heavy Cruiser "Australia". We could see from a distance that they
were "turned to", with sailors working all over the ship. In that area of the world, the working
uniform of the Australian Navy was khaki shorts, no cap or shirts. The Wolf said: " We'll see how sharp
they are. When we get alongside,
we'll dip the colors, and render honors." When we got alongside their
quarter-deck, we dipped and immediately a bugle sounded. About four or five hundred men stopped
what they were doing and stood at attention. I, for one, was
impressed.
----------------------------------
ARMY
CARBINE
Some of the officers
decided they would like to have an Army Carbine. We kept after Ted Simmons, until
finally, he came back to the ship, one day, and told us he could get us some
guns. They would cost us $30
each. Since we didn't have
anything else to spend our money on, it sounded like a good deal. We gave him the cash, and he came back
to the ship with the Carbines, plus 1000 rounds of ammo in a tin box. When I went home to Seattle on leave,
I took the gun. I had to leave
the ammo, as it was too heavy to carry on the plane. When I returned to the BOQ, in Pearl,
someone had taken the ammo.
SHIP
HANDLING
Another tale about the CO,
that was funny at the time. He
fancied himself to be a fine ship handler however, it was almost impossible
for him to go alongside another ship without scrapping the side and tearing
away anything that was in the way.
We used to fuel alongside a tanker that was anchored in Humboldt
Bay. We used the tanker several
times before, with mixed results.
The time I remember the clearest, was when we were making our approach
and the Capt. of the tanker had come out of his cabin and was on the bridge to
watch us approach. When he saw
what ship it was, he began to wave his arms across his face, like he was
fighting off a swarm of bees. The
more he did it, the madder the CO got.
You can imagine the results.
We scrapped that tanker, from bow to midships, with sparks and pieces
flying everywhere. I'm sure Chief
Stevenson and the shipfitters appreciated the clean up job that followed.
---------------------
NAVY COFFEE ON THE
MIDWATCH
When standing the
mid-watch underway, we'd order coffee from the wardroom at about 0200. It's hard to imagine how awful coffee
can taste, after sitting in a Silex for about 2 or 3 hours, simmering
away. When you added condensed
milk, it would clobber up and float around in the cup. Since the bridge was pitch black, I
guess it was a good thing you couldn't see what you were drinking. That was when I began drinking my
coffee "black".
------------------------
BRAVE
ENEMY
Oct 12, we were operating
with TF 38, as usual, and our planes were raiding Formosa. Enemy planes were trying to get
into our TG, but our CAP was doing a fine job in shooting them down. We were at GQ most of the day and part
of the night. My GQ station was
on the 40MM, aft. I was also
standing OOD watches. Everyone
was so tired, we were falling asleep on our feet. The next day, more raids just about
dark, when 4 Bettys passed us heading for the carriers. They were twin engine
torpedo bombers. We fired on them and their rear gunner fired at us. I could see the gun flashes winking at
me. The Japs dropped their "fish" but missed. On the 14th, more raids on Luzon and
more Jap air attacks on our TG.
About noon 4 enemy planes got through the CAP and cans and attacked the
FRANKLIN. Fortunately they
missed. After the attack, one
plane came in low right over our ship.
We fired on him with everything we had, along with all the other ships
within range. He was twisting and
jukeing. His wing had a hole
clear through it. That pilot must
surely have survived the war, after going through such intense fire. I figured he was destined to go on to
greater things.
-------------------------------
PICKET
DUTY--OKINAWA
Probably our most exciting
times came in the Okinawa Operation.
We missed D-Day but arrived a couple of weeks later. We were assigned Radar Picket Station
#10, if my memory serves me. We
had seen all the destroyers that had been hit, when we anchored in Kerama
Retto. We wondered if we might
suffer the same fate. Kerama
Retto would make smoke in the anchorages, when they had a Red Alert. One thing about the waters around
Okinawa, they were usually as smooth as glass.
One day, about noon, I was
OOD, when we got a report of "bogies" at 8 miles and closing. I immediately hit the GQ alarm, and
told the main battery watch to try to get on the target. Also, to open fire when they had a
solution. By that time the
Captain was on the bridge and took the Conn. I ran for my GQ station on the 40mm
battery. I remember about that
time, here came 2 Jap planes with 3 Marine F4U Corsairs right behind
them. We were firing at the Japs
with everything we had. The
BROWN, another can with us, was doing the same. One Jap plane crashed into the water,
between the 2 ships, and the other headed back to Japan. I always admired the courage of
those Marine pilots, who stayed on their targets, in spite of our very heavy
AA fire. They had "GUTS". It was all in a day's work for them.
----------------------
PMB
RESCUE
When patrolling off
Okinawa, at night, it was common to have several Red Alerts. It seemed like we were at GQ nearly
all night - every night. One
night we had a "bogie", which was a radar contact that didn't show IFF. Our doctrine was: we would open fire
when the "bogie" closed to a certain distance. This night we opened fire on the
"bogie" when it closed and the contact disappeared from our radar scope. The next morning, we were ordered to
go out, find and tow a disabled PBM, which had been forced down by engine
trouble. We thought at the time,
it was probably the "bogie", we fired on last night. When we got to the plane, the crew was
sitting on the wing. They looked
like birds on a telephone wire.
They were glad to see us and we them. It wasn't the plane we fired
on.
---------------------
HENRY
MOBLEY
I guess no story would be
complete, without mentioning Henry Mobley. Hank had a very subtle sense of humor
and was one of those persons, who could write a good poem about anything. One thing that used to irritate Hank,
as First Lt., was not replacing the toilet paper in the holder in the
Officer's Head. One day, when we
visited this facility, there, taped to the wall, a poem, cautioning us NOT to
put the paper in the angle iron.
Anyone, who could write a poem on that subject, could certainly attain
greatness. Unfortunately Hank
died at an early age.
CHARLIE HUGHES--Comm
Officer.
==========================
A CAREER--S 2/c to
CPO
I had graduated from High
School in Pa in June l940 and there weren't any jobs available. I wanted to go to college, but having
no money, it was out of the question.
In those days, there just weren't any scholarships available. So I did the next best thing, enlisted
in the Navy in Feb 1941. I had
exactly 92 cents in my pocket when I got to Boot Camp in Newport, RI. At least the Navy offered a clean bunk
and 3 square meals a day. The pay
was $21 per month, out of which I had to pay for GI insurance, haircuts,
etc. As I recall I got a big pay
day of $8 for the first 2 weeks.
Now if the pay isn't that or more, per hour, people turn their noses up
at the job. In Boots we got our usual number of
shots, ran our butts off, marched until we knew our right foot from the left
and could keep a straight line.
I graduated in time to be
assigned to the WILKES, being commissioned in the Charleston Navy Yard, Boston
on 4/22/41. Since I had been in
the "radio club" in High School, I was assigned as a striker in the radio
gang. I never went to the Fleet
Radio School. I learned the
"Dit-Dot"-cold turkey, by copying the Fox Skeds on the
ship.
From S 2/c-no
experience-green as grass-right out of Boot Camp, I was able to learn the
"Trade" as a radioman. When the
ship was decommissioned, I was one of the few plank owners still on
board. I had risen from S 2/c to
CPO (Chief Radioman). I had
learned valuable skills that carried me throughout my
life.
GEORGE
KOLODZEY--CRM
=======================
KOREA: WAR'S
END:
We were a disappointed
group on the WILKES, when our orders were changed from proceeding to Tokyo Bay
for the signing of the Peace Treaty, to proceeding to Korea. It would have been a once in a life
time chance to see history being made.
It is only now, when I look back, that I realize that Korea was just as
interesting, as would have Japan.
Perhaps even more so. We
were destined to have a part, in an overlooked, but very important role in the
peace- the peaceful surrender of Japanese forces on the mainland of Asia.
It was early in the
morning when we dropped anchor off I To, one of Korea's outlying islands. The fishing fleet of picturesque junks
was starting to leave the shelter of the island anchorages and put out for the
day's work. Few scenes have
impressed me more than that one - a fleet of perhaps a hundred home-made
sailing vessels, mostly very small and with woven grass sails catching the
morning breezes and moving them along slowly. They were just as curious about us as
we were about them. Several small
boats and a larger junk came close.
We were somewhat skeptical and kept them well clear of our side, until
we were sure they didn't carry any weapons. Finally one small boat with 3 boys in
it came close and a scribbled note was handed up to us. It was a greeting written in English,
carefully translated from a small Korean-English dictionary, which one boy
carried. We waved to them, and as
they stood up in their boat and saluted us enthusiastically to show their
intended good will, we couldn't help but feel friendly towards them.
The next day, some of us
went over to the beach in the ship's whale boat. With hospitality, that we later found
was typical of these people, the whole village came down to meet us. Our knowledge of their language was
nil. Except for their dictionary
and its word for word translation, we were unable to make ourselves
understood. Their good will
towards us was evident. Even
without a common language, we greatly enjoyed our first escorted tour of their
island. I To is small, perhaps
three miles from end to end.
Since its population, of about 200, was solely dependent on fishing for
a living, their homes and possessions reflected poverty. They lacked all but the barest
essential for life itself. Their
clothes were rather ragged and a few wore shoes. However, they were delighted if anyone
expressed admiration or interest in any item and invariably tried to give it
to us. It was only a few days
later, these same villagers turned into a good a group of traders and
bargainers, as New Englanders are reputed to be. They quickly learned that we,
Americans are very gullible.
We'll buy or trade for practically anything in the line of a
souvenir.
After the first few days,
their curiosity was satisfied and they remained politely in their village,
while our men enjoyed beer and recreation parties on the beach.
We had been there about a
week, when Captain Brodie, Commander of our group of ships, decided to pay an
official visit on the island.
Together with the Captains of the ships and a 10 piece band from one of
the tankers, we all piled into a landing barge and went ashore. The Chief of the village had been
informed of our coming, and with great oriental display of ceremony and
dressed in their finest clothes, the chiefs came down to meet us. First came the most aged men, next the
children and younger men, and lastly, and at a good distance, came the
women. Throughout our visit, the
women remained in the background and were very reluctant to have their
pictures taken.
I will never forget the
scene. The island had a high hill
at either end, with the village of about 50 houses in the valley between. A long stretch of white sand lay
between the village and the water.
As we approached the island, just about everyone there seemed to appear
from nowhere and stream down across the stretch of beach to the place we were
to land. First, came the "Boss
Man" and two other aged men, dressed in white silk blouses, pantaloons, and
wearing shoes woven from yards and yards of string. They smoked long native bamboo pipes,
and by their authoritative manner, showed us they were the leading men of the
village.
Behind them came a group
of about 150 men, women and children in the most varied assortment of dress
and undress, we had ever seen. It
was evident that children under 10 or 12 years felt no necessity for dressing
at all. The women, for the most
part, were very backward. At the
slightest glance from one of us, they turned and dropped to the back of the
crowd. Many of the girls and
women wore babies on their backs, held on by a scarf that wound several times
around their waist. The daughter
of the Chief and her companions carried silk parasols and seemed a little more
used to the eyes of strangers.
The absence of men,
between the ages of 18 and 30 was noticeable. We were told that the majority of them
had been drafted into labor battalions by the Japanese, early in the
war.
With much ceremony, our
Commodore and the Chief shook hands and exchanged greetings. Although neither knew the other's
language, the language of friendship is universal. From the start, we found nothing but
good will here. We all found
comfortable places to sit and interesting things to look at. While the band struck up a few good
old American swing numbers, a fire was started on the beach. Our food, etc. was brought up from the
landing barge. The music made a
big hit. Before long several of
the older children had joined in with their native drums and gongs. A few of our party tried their hand at
jitterbugging. By the end of the
afternoon, the old Chief himself, did a number for us.
The houses in the village
were small and unpretentious. But
they were very clean and well kept,
A large flag pole had been erected in a center clearing from which flew
an American flag. The flag was
carefully painted on cardboard, and below it, the Korean flag. Up in back of the houses, on the side
of one of the hills, stood the town's most modern building. It was a one story structure that
actually had glass windows.
Later, we found it was the school house. Although it boasted only a few desks
and books, it was evidently the most cherished part of the village. There were
several blackboards, but the teacher had run out of chalk, pencils and
paper. Since we carried ample
supplies of all these things, we made a big hit with the people, by sending a
good supply of them to the school.
In the cove, on the other
side of the island, there were about 25 junks. They were vessels measuring anywhere
from 25 to 50 feet long. They
were generally wind propelled through the use of a large woven sail. A few, that we later saw in Jinsen,
were propelled by a small gasoline engine, plus the sail. Since the main occupation of the
villagers was fishing, these junks were lined on both sides with pottery jugs
and urns. They stored the fish in
them and carried them to market.
Because of the scarcity of manpower, and probably in accordance with
oriental tradition, the women did most of the work in loading and unloading
the junks. It seemed very easy
for them to pick up one of these earthenware jugs, lift it to their heads and
carry it to the boat. I tried
lifting one later. I'd estimate
their weight at between 50 and 75 pounds.
Our food was a particular
attraction. The natives were
always delighted when we gave them some.
It must have been a welcome change from their constant diet of dried
fish. On the other hand,
some of them tried our food and politely refused anymore. Evidently they preferred their
own.
Our landing barge
attracted a lot of attention. So
we finally loaded it with about 50 men and boys and took them for a ride. Several of the boys evidently knew
something about engines. They
pointed to the engine and asked me "Diesel ?" When I told them, they were correct,
they were very delighted with themselves. We passed close to a junk and excited
calls were exchanged. Our best
translation yielded "Get that damn thing moving."
Time passed quickly and
with reluctance, we packed our things and said good-bye to the natives. I was actually sorry to leave the
island. As the dusk of early
evening enclosed the island, it slipped away behind the wake of our
barge. As we headed back to the
ship, we all felt that we had spent a very worthwhile afternoon, and one that
we would long remember.
Several days later, we
received orders to go in and anchor at Jinsen (now known as an Inchon). This was the principal seaport of
Korea and a city of about 50,000 people.
It was 15 miles from I To and after a trip of an hour and a half, we
were riding anchor off the largest oriental city we had seen, up to now. The harbor, big enough for normal
traffic, was not really large enough to hold the great number of ships
anchored there. As always, we had
to dodge junks and small boats in large numbers.
For the next 3 weeks, we
saw a lot of Jinsen, its homes, and its people. From the fishing village we had first
seen, we had jumped right into the middle of a much more modernized
Korea. Although there were few
civilian cars still going, after the long years of war, the streets were full
of US Army cars and trucks.
With all the ships present sending in liberty parties each day, the
city was jammed with men in uniform.
The main landing was as busy as any downtown train terminal in the
States.
As we came in the harbor,
we noticed dry-docks on the shore.
We were told that because of the unusual rise and fall of the tide,
ships could be blocked up in these, without using any mechanical pumps to pump
out the water. The ships were
brought in with the high tide and when low tide came, the ships were left high
and dry. Clever these
Orientals. The same unusual tides
and currents made navigation difficult in Jinsen harbor and sometimes rather
treacherous.
When we entered the city,
we found the street lined with native stands selling anything from bamboo
pipes to beautiful silk kimonos.
The locals had been quick to take advantage of the business
opportunities offered by this influx of Americans (with dollars to
spend). Prices had
risen, as the supplies dwindled.
Evidently, they had found the market so good, that many had brought
most of their household goods out in front of their homes. They set up little stands along the
street to sell what they had. We
also found there were 3 sets of prices.
First for the natives and the second for the Army men, who could afford
to bargain, since they would be stationed there for sometime. The third and highest-the Navy men,
who were on a very transient basis and had to buy whatever they could and
fast.
Our trading was done in
Yen, the local currency. US
dollars were exchanged by the Supply Officer aboard ship for Yen, at the rate
of 15 Yen to the dollar. At first
it gave you the feeling you had a tremendous amount of money. That feeling lasted only until you saw
the prices on items you wanted to buy.
As in China, inflation had set in. Bamboo pipes sold for 25 yen and
kimonos ranged between 150 and 1000 yen.
A ride in a jinrikisha cost about $2 for a short distance. A Japanese sword sold for as high as
$50. I remember one of our men,
was unusually anxious to go over to the city, so he could take some souvenirs
home to the folks. When he came
back to the ship, he was the proud owner of an old beaten up derby hat, pasted
with a "Made in NY" label. It
cost him $4. Truly the Korean
merchants had found a most unusual market.
The big part of civilian
trucking was done by ox cart, and by native porter, who carried tremendous
loads on their back, on a kind of litter, specially rigged for this duty. The only civilian trucks, were a few
old ones the Japanese had left behind.
Most of them were held together by little more than bailing wire and
ran only by the grace of some miracle.
We never ceased to marvel at the amazing strength exhibited by some of
the little wizened up old porters.
They frequently carried great cases and crates, towering 5 or 6 feet,
above their heads. Evidently the
jinrikishas were mostly for the benefit of the tourist. I never saw a Korean riding in
one.
The city of Jinsen
combined several architectural themes.
The shopping district was filled with a great number of old,
tumbled-down fire traps; stores that were little more than sheds, ramshackle
houses that were absolutely filthy.
Yet the hills, surrounding the city were filled with fine residential
districts of beautiful homes and perfect examples of recent oriental
architecture in the form of churches, temples and public buildings. Evidently, Korea fell into something
of a slump at the very beginning of the war, and it had been only during the
last few years, the economy had been built up again.
The churches and temples
were particularly remarkable, with beautiful stained-glass windows. Most of the drapes were made of
gorgeous silks and woven tapestries, which seemed to reflect the wonderful
richness and grandeur that can belong to the orient, when not under the
torture of war.
A few of us had the chance
to visit the private home of a curiosity collector, who lived high on a hill
in back of the city. We had been
looking through one of the shops for one of the Japanese suicide swords and
for some unusual kimonos. By this
time, the shops were practically empty of any really unique items. After talking with one of the Korean
shopkeepers, he suggested, we go up to the home of a collector friend of
his. We walked about a half mile,
all up hill, and reached the home.
It was just as I had visualized, an oriental home to be. It had a high wall in front and a
beautiful garden overlooking the city.
After leaving our shoes in the vestibule, we were ushered in with great
politeness and much ceremony.
Instead of being seated on cushions placed on the floor, as is the
Korean custom, we were shown to chairs on the sun porch.
Although our knowledge of
the Korean language was very limited, as was our host's familiarity with
English, we managed to make ourselves understood. Before there was any mention of
business, tea was brought by the daughter of the house. It was the most delicious tea, I could
ever hope to taste. After an
enjoyable afternoon, we left the house, with a very cordial invitation to
return again, and with two samurai swords and a very beautiful silk
kimono. I was very thankful for
the chance to see how the upper class lived in Korea. For up to now, we had seen little but
dirt and poverty.
On our way to the lower
end of the city, we passed the railroad station. Much to my surprise, it was fairly
modern. A standard gauge railroad
line ran to Keije and offered excellent service. The locomotives were even more modern,
and some of the passenger cars were more up to date, than some in use here in
the States during the war.
Although the bus lines had been pretty much disrupted, the equipment
worn out during the war, the transportation system was up to date, as many, we
had in the States.
At the lower end of the
city was one of the most interesting market places, I had ever seen. It was reminiscent of the central
market system, which I had read about in the early history of the US. Farmers and merchants from miles
around came here to exchange and sell their wares. The market place stretched for over a
mile. The streets throughout were lined with stands and carts. Dozens of kinds of food, from dried
fish to bread could be found.
Silk cloth by the yard, beautifully embroidered oriental tapestries
were displayed on straw mats along the sidewalks. Bamboo pipes and hand made cigarettes,
fruit, native wines, hats and clothing, pottery jugs and straw for roofs, they
all could be bought here.
I remember one old silk
peddler, in particular. He had
tried for 20 minutes to sell a
piece of cloth to a Korean woman, but had been unsuccessful. Throwing his hands in the air, with a
"I give up" gesture, he dropped back onto the sidewalk and went fast
asleep. Along came 5 PM, and with
a great rush, the peddlers started to fold up their stands and move towards
their homes. It reminded me of
our 5 o'clock rush at home.
Throughout our visit in
Korea, one thing was obvious, although very polite and hospitable, the Koreans
were not self conscious with having strangers in their city. They went on with their lives, as if
absolutely no change had occurred.
In many ways this added to the Army's problem of maintaining healthy
living conditions. The sewerage
disposal system was sadly inadequate.
It was partially dependent on ditches dug alongside the main
streets. With so many animals
around and with such poor sewer disposal, the whole city was permeated with a
rather unpleasant odor. With such conditions, coupled with the
lack of proper provision for food storage, could lead to wholesale epidemics
and many dangerous diseases. The
Army was making rapid moves to better conditions. Even before we left, changes for the
better were observed.
CHARLES "ROBBIE"
FISH--Ass't Engineering Officer.
=========================
SHIP'S FIRST MEDICAL
DOCTOR--RECOLLECTIONS
I was the first Medical
Officer on the WILKES. I reported
on board the day after Thanksgiving in November 1941- shortly before War was
declared. I left the ship Dec 31,
1942 to go to Flight Surgeon training.
During my time on board, we made the invasion of French North
Africa.
While we were doing convoy
duty in the North Atlantic, one of the crew members received a broken leg,
when he was smashed into a gun turret by a huge wave. I was called to the scene. The other crew members, put the
injured man on a box. One man held each arm and two men held me, so I wouldn't
get washed over board. I applied
the plaster cast right there.
Later, the man was
hospitalized and x-rays taken there, showed a "perfect reduction" of
the fracture. Everything turned
out well.
ALESSANDRO TROMBETTA,
MD--Capt USN (Ret)
===========================
GROUNDING --
2/18/42
It was at once a nightmare
and a harsh reality--in 18 months on the North Atlantic, the worst storm in
memory. Waves bigger than
box cars bashed against the WILKES' thin-skinned hull; sheets of rain were
whirled by howling winds through the darkness. The vessel rolled and pitched like an
animal in agony. Like any well
built destroyer hull, it quivered like a long bamboo pole under the storm's
pressure, the give in its keel assuring survival. Amid the motion, the wave and wind
noises, there was a sudden sharp grinding racket. The ship stopped tossing for a moment,
as it slid along something solid.
Then it stopped. General Quarters was sounded.
I had been awake in my
bunk in officer's country, for about 20 minutes before we grounded. It seemed almost the logical event
after the storm's violence. Like
everyone else aboard a destroyer underway in 1942, I had slept in my
clothes. I had only to get on my
shoes, cap, and heavy sheepskin coat, and grab a life jacket. I ran up a ladder, reaching the main
deck aft of the wardroom. Men were in motion all about. I had left $200 cash in my
stateroom--too late !!
It was thick dark,
sometime after 0430, Feb 18, 1942.
We had been due in Argentia, Newfoundland, our leased base, that
afternoon. With the destroyer,
TRUXTON, we were escorting the POLLUX, with supplies for that outpost. The WILKES carried a Destroyer
Division Commander (26), CDR Webb, who was OTC. I had been assigned to him as
aide/communicator, after waiting 2 weeks for the ship in Casco Bay, Me.
Men were at battle
stations, some attempting to train a searchlight towards shore-- a hazardous
effort since the ship was working up and down the reef. I had not been assigned a GQ station
yet, after coming on board in Boston.
Since I knew the bridge would be crowded and I was a new Ensign, USNR,
as green as the turf at Fenway Park, I went elsewhere. I made my way, amid seas coming over
the main deck, aft to the fantail.
Several enlisted men were
gathered there, one with sound-powered phones. I had him tell the bridge, I was aft. I thought of the depth charges, shown
me on an earlier orientation tour.
They were great gray 600 pounds barrels of TNT, which roll off the
stern, seeking to blow a hostile sub to Kingdom Come. An alert sailor had set them on
"safe". If any fell off, while we
rolled around, they would not explode.
We formed a stern lookout.
The WILKES' bow was on a
reef, so that the stern, over 300 feet away, wee-wawed in the seas, as they
rolled past it to the shore. We
secured ourselves with line to avoid being swept away by a wave. The first dirty gray fingers of dawn
began to appear in the East, behind us.
Ahead, I could see the
black bulk of the POLLUX, high and fast on a reef, on our starboard bow. Beyond, further ahead and to starboard
was the TRUXTON. A gray, 25 year
old 4-piper, she had been swung by the seas on to the reef, on her beam
ends. Larger waves rolled over
her. She appeared to list away
from the pounding seas, at times bounding on the reef. The POLLUX was gradually swinging to a
similar position, on her beams ends.
Though a plume of foam astern indicated she was trying to stay bow on
to the reef, as we were, giving hard power to her single propeller. That power was not enough. She gradually assumed the same
position on her reef, as the TRUXTON.
She leaned to leeward like the TRUXTON, so much so, it appeared she
might capsize. Were we to be
next?
On the WILKES, Capt.
Kelsey, his helmsman (name unknown), deserves a great credit, as do the
engineers, who kept the engines going at full power. The skillful handling of the rudder
and engines kept her from swinging to beams end and disaster. We could hear the props churning
underneath and see the foam, despite the storm's slosh and howl. The young
ship stayed perpendicular to the reef,
Her immense power plant (50,000 HP), and 2 props, skillfully managed,
held her firm. Was anyone
injured? How much water had been
taken forward? Water tight
compartmentation was simply a "given" on USN ships, compared to ships of many
other countries. It paid off
handsomely.
As the light strengthened,
it became obvious that along with 3 ships grounding all at once, a strange
twist had developed. We had been
on POLLUX's starboard bow on leaving Boston; the TRUXTON to the cargo ship's
port side. Now, the destroyers'
positions were reversed: we were to port of the POLLUX, the TRUXTON to
starboard. A bald black cliff
loomed up beyond the grounded ships, seas breaking wildly on its shore--as
they did on the reefs. We were
far from being safe ourselves, but felt hopeless to assist our companions, now
in great danger.
It was cold but not
freezing on the fantail. Waves
and wind being directly astern, we were in a blow-out. Yet no one sought shelter of Gun
5. Someone found coffee and we
huddled together - everyone cold and scared. Men told stories of earlier times on
the ship, of Boston liberties, of fun at the Coconut Grove, the Cave, Izzy
Ort's and other fleshpots of Boston.
There was also talk of girls, wives, aspirations, baseball,
boyhood's. No one gave the
slightest thought of the possibility of a visit from a Nazi sub-too
rough. We were fairly safe, but
also felt useless.
By mid-morning, perhaps
helped by an incoming tide, the WILKES backed off the reef. She was somewhat down by the head, but
afloat and alive. The storm was
subsiding. Could we make a
rescue? Our rafts were released,
the plan being to haul them back with any men, who could get aboard. A number of us made ready to be
lowered into the water to bear-hug these survivors and haul them aboard, out
of the rafts. But there wasn't
enough line to let them reach the POLLUX or TRUXTON. We could only draw so near, without
risk grounding again. The TRUXTON
now seemed lower on the reef. It
looked like some men were jumping off both ships. The 4-piper's bow appeared loose.
After this failed-- it was
still too rough to try anything with our motor whaleboat. Not long after the sun came out, we
were ordered to Argentia. By this
time, the TRUXTON was now further under water; the POLLUX almost
capsized. We had grounded on the
west side of Placentia Bay, en route to Argentia. Our new SC radar on the WILKES gave
warning too late. By the time we
were ready to enter the base, the seas had calmed down. You could have gone around for fun, in
any little dinghy.
After we arrived, we
learned that both ships were wrecks and many brave sailors lost. During the storm, in the darkness and
after, heroic Newfoundland fishermen came down the cliff, from their
village. They braved the cold and
heavy surf to rescue a number of sailors, struggling to shore in the white
water. By mid-day the seas were
turning flat: it's probable that there would have been little if any loss of
life had an old rule of the sea had been followed: "STAY WITH THE SHIP". 50+ years later, how easy to
say.
STEVE W. WINSHIP--Aide/
Communicator --CDD26
JOE B. FRANZ
Joe was a rather mild
mannered man, who was my Asst Comm Officer and later, when I was detached, my
relief. He had a dry sense of
humor and a twinkle in his eyes.
He was from Texas and was a Texan through and through -
drawl and all. His home town was Weatherford, Texas and he was
proud of it. He was born 1/l6/17
and had graduated from the University of Texas, majoring in History. He was the only Comm Officer, to my
knowledge, who had gone to Communication School, and he could type. He and Sy Dennis, another fellow
Texan, hit it off right from the start.
In talking to him, we soon
discovered he was a boyhood friend of Mary Martin and the CO found out that he
could get tickets to her Broadway Show.
At that time, she was the toast of NYC and her show, the hottest ticket
on Broadway. So he was an instant
celebrity in the Wardroom. As I
remember, he was able to get tickets for several of the other officers. I couldn't afford the prices. Getting these tickets was greatly
appreciated, as they were gotten on very short notice.
JOE'S OBITUARY:
11/13/93
"After the war, he went on
to get his Masters and Doctorate degrees at the University of Texas, at
Austin. During this time, he
became acquainted with Lyndon Johnson and was closely associated with him in
his career. It was said that Joe
know more about Lyndon, than any living person. Joe was on the UT History Faculty from
1949, until he retired in 1986, as head of the History Dept. Joe was the author or editor of some
28 books and many articles. He was the Director of the LBJ
Oral History Project from 1968-74.
He was called the unofficial curator of the LBJ's presidential
library.
After he retired from UT,
he still was active in teaching, as he started teaching at Corpus Christi
State U., until he again retired in the summer of 1993. He passed away 11/13/93, of
complications from diabetes, after an illness of several weeks."
Those, who knew him, will
miss him. It is too bad he wasn't
able to make our reunions. It
would have been pleasant to have renewed old friendships.
BILL MOSHER--Comm
Officer
=======================
NEW SUPPLY
OFFICER
Before we got a real
Supply Officer in Jan 1944, one of the assistant communication officers was
our "Supply Officer". One day in
early May 1943, we were in port and we needed supplies. I typed up the necessary paper
work. I had to find our "Supply
Officer", as he had to approve and sign the requisitions. I looked in the usual places for him
(the code room, radio shack, etc.)-no luck.
Since I had to find him
quickly, I walked to the quarter deck and asked if they had seen the "new
officer"? I described him: "tall,
skinny, with a big nose (a bird).
Just as I said those words, I looked up and saw my quarry. He was standing right above me on the
torpedo deck. I was greatly
embarrassed. I hustled up the
ladder and handed him the paper work.
He looked them over, approved and signed them.
After that incident, my
nick-name was "Bird" After all
these years it is still good for a chuckle.
------------------------
SHORT OF
FOOD
In October 1944, the
WILKES virtually ran out of food.
Being short of food, wasn't uncommon, but this time, we were really
SHORT. After extensive operations
with TF 38, we were scheduled to be re-supplied after Oct 20, when the Army
landed on Leyte. However, the
Japanese Fleet came out and TF 38 went North to attack their carriers. The WILKES was one of the screening
DD's. We didn't get re-supplied.
The crew began eating Army "K" rations.
They had eaten them many times before. However, this time half the crew
became constipated and the rest had diarrhea. Hard to explain. All survived.
------------------------
RAN OF OUT OF CANNED
MILK
Navy coffee was so strong
that most of the crew used canned milk to make it potable. When we ran short of canned milk, ship
board priorities were as follows:
First, the crew's mess ran out of milk; then the officer's mess ran
out. However, the Chief's never
did run out. Never did figure
that one out -- good planning?
Experience???
-------------------------
OUR FAVORITE
FOOD--SPAM
During the war, SPAM got a
bad reputation. However, compared
to some other food we had to eat, it wasn't half bad. When the ship took on supplies, the
crew would 'divert' a few cases of SPAM for use as late night
sandwiches-coming on or off watch.
When you were hungry, it didn't taste too bad. It was far superior to the crew's
Sunday night entree, which was cold cuts and cheese.
-------------------------
LARGEST
PAYDAY
Probably the largest
payday for the officers and crew was held Dec 16, 1944. We had been in combat in the Western
Pacific for almost a year and almost everyone had a large amount of money "on
the books." We hadn't had any
liberty or leave for over 11 months.
We came into Seattle for an overhaul. Half the crew was set for 21 days
leave. They were all anxious to
get paid and get on their way home.
Ted Simmons, our Supply
Officer, didn't have enough cash to pay everyone. We wanted to have checks issued for
such large amounts. So we took
our payroll records to the local Navy Disbursing Office. We asked them for help in paying the
crew.
An old Chief Storekeeper,
with gold hash marks up to his elbow was in charge. He asked us what "cumshaw" did we have
to offer? "Cumshaw" is an old
China Station word for "tip, gratuity, bribe".
We told the chief that we
had over 200 sailors, who had been at sea for almost a year, with no liberty
or leave. Half were due for 21
days leave, Right Now!! We asked
him, would he like to have this group descend on his office to "plead" for
their pay?
The chief put his people
to work right away. We all
collected our pay-that day! The
leave party left the ship-all SMILES.
DAVE CONWAY-- SK
2c
====================
RECOLLECTIONS FROM THE
SHIP'S DOCTOR
I came on board in
Hollandia in New Guinea in July 1944.
One of the first memories I have, is being tipped off that Doctor
Stollman, the medical doctor, I was replacing, had initially refused to stand
decoding watch. He reconsidered,
when the Captain told him the alternate was to spend 8 hour watch in sick
bay. I was glad to be involved
with fighting the war, instead of merely standing by waiting for someone to
need medical attention.
In addition, it took some
of the load off the other officers, who had to stand watch and turn out for
GQ. The only unpleasant memory, I
have about decoding, relates to being called in the middle of the night to
decode an operational priority message, when we were on the edge of a
typhoon. I made a number of trips
to the Captain's head, that was just around the corner, giving back my dinner,
because of the rough weather.
Luckily, that was the first-last and only time I was
sea-sick.
------------------------
SICK
CALL
One of the men developed
severe abdominal pain, low grade fever, tenderness and re-bound
tenderness. "Little Doc" Stackus
did the necessary blood counts-elevated white blood count. All the signs of
appendicitis were there. We operated, with Protzman and Stackus assisting and
Ted Simmons, the pay master, giving the anesthesia. We got part way through the surgery, I
must have failed to make clear how much anesthetic to give, because the
patient stopped breathing.
Luckily, a few chest compressions brought him around and we proceeded
to remove his appendix. After the
surgery, I found it was a case of mesenteric adentitis, instead of
appendicitis. Later one of the
officers, I never was good at remembering names, had what appeared to be the
same problem. We transferred him
to the FRANKLIN for surgery. The carrier sent us a reassuring message "Acutely
inflamed appendix removed and patient doing fine." He must have been doing well, because
I bumped into him in the officers' bar on a liberty island three days later.
Many of the men, who
worked in the engine rooms and fire rooms wore earphones much of the time.
They developed fungus infections
in their ear canals. We had no
effective anti-fungal medicines in those days. This condition was quite a problem
until one of the men came up with the idea of using toilet paper between their
ears and the headphones. This absorbed the moisture and the problem was
solved.
One of the engineering
officers, who went from Warrant to Ensign and then back to Warrant, at his own
request, came into sick bay, just as we were approaching Guam. He said there was a skin rash, known
as the "Guam Itch", commonly seen in the Mariana Islands. He gave me the copy of the
prescription to treat it. Later
the same day, before we had even entered the harbor, one of the men came in
with the rash, so we used the prescription and the rash cleared up.
The only other medical
problem I recall, was a man who backed up into a bulb in a socket, in steering
aft. He broke his leg when he
fell. I was called aft "on the
double", only to find that the other men had done an excellent job of
immobilizing the leg with sand bags.
We put the leg in traction and later transferred him to a hospital
ship.
------------------------------
FORBIDDEN AIR SCOOP IN A
PORTHOLE
The WILKES having been
designed and built before Dec 7th, and didn't have a very good ventilation
system and air conditioning wasn't even invented, had portholes in the
wardroom and in the officer's staterooms. Due to wartime conditions, they had to
be keep closed (dogged down) to maintain water tight integrity. The pay master put an air scoop in the
porthole of our stateroom, while we were at anchor. A short time later, we had
to get underway immediately to pick up a downed pilot. As the ship heeled over
in exiting the harbor, there was a 12 inch stream of saltwater pouring into
the officer's quarters, as the air scoop in the port hole was underwater. What made it worse, the paymaster was
afraid to ask the steward mates to clean up the mess, for fear the "word"
would get back to the CO, that there had been a forbidden airscope in the
porthole. The cabin that was
flooded the worse, was previously occupied by the chief engineer.
------------------------
KEEPING OUR
COOL
In 1945, the WILKES was
part of the screen for a tanker refueling ships off Okinawa. An Australian/British cruiser came
into the formation to refuel.
Instead of going astern and coming into the formation on a course
parallel to the course of the tanker, the cruiser cut right across the WILKES'
bow. The helmsman looked at
Captain Rommel, who said "Steady as you go". Then he reconsidered and ordered "All
back full"!! When the Aussie
cleared our bow, the bow look-out said he could have tossed a pack of
cigarettes to the men on the stern of the cruiser.
Shortly, there was a
signal from the Aussie: " Sorry,
if I inconvenienced you".
Captain Rommel sent back."
That's all right, it was a dull afternoon anyway". It must have been a month later, we
were approaching Ulithi, Before
we could even see any of the ships in the atoll, there was a big "W-W-W"
flashing out to greet us. This
was followed by an invitation for the Division Commander, Captain and XO to
come aboard the Aussie cruiser "For Tea". We all knew that "Tea", on an
Aussie/British ship, was far better than anything they served on the liberty
island "Mog Mog"**. Captain
Rommel said: "See, it doesn't pay to lose your cool."
** This was a small island
on the west side of the lagoon in Ulithi, used for liberty
parties.
----------------------
MISTAKEN
IDENTITY
Along the line of the
WILKES being the luckiest ship.
When I was in training in the Naval Hospital in Newport, R. I. in
1943. I became friends with a
Doctor John Bolton. Later he
visited aboard the WILKES in DesPac at Pearl. He then went out to Okinawa, where he
served on an LST, that was loaded with morphine and plasma to supply ships
that were hit on picket station.
One day, he saw a can come into Keramo Rhetto, with 10 bodies on the
foredeck. He was sure it was the
WILKES. When the signalman relayed the information that the medical officer
was one of the casualties, he was certain I was dead. It was not until he
returned to the States, that he found out that it was a less fortunate ship,
that had been hit.
-------------------------
FATE MISSED US
AGAIN
I believe it was late in
1944, that the WILKES was escorting a troop ship from the Marianas south to
Seadler Harbor on Manus in the Admiralties Islands. The transport ran a "hot bearing" and
we had to creep along with fumes drifting down from the stacks into the
ventilator air intakes. As the
result, we were a whole day late in arriving. We noticed a whole lot of flotsam,
such as ammo boxes in the harbor water.
As usual we were ordered to take on ammo and fuel. As we were loading ammo from an
auxiliary ship, we learned that the MT HOOD (AE 11), the ship from which we
would have been taking ammo from, had we arrived on schedule, had blown up the
previous day (actual date 11/10/44), with the loss of most of the crews of the
ships alongside and nearby. All
the crew of the Mt Hood were killed, except for 10 men on a work party
ashore.
------------------------
COMMODORE
BRODIE
We were very fortunate to
have Captain Robert Brodie, Jr., as ComDesDiv 24. On our last trip back to the
States, the Commodore found a detachment of marines on the dock, in Pearl,
waiting for transportation to the WILKES. We were going to take them back to the
States. When he found that they
had been waiting for 3 hours, and the Duty Officer had refused to send them
out to the ship, he told the Duty Officer: "I'll give you 2 minutes to get a
boat alongside or the CO of this station will be down here in person." The boat appeared and a message
was sent to the ship, to have food ready for their arrival. As he left, Captain Brodie told the
Duty Officer, " Give my compliments to your CO and tell him, I think he's
doing a damn poor job." When I
asked the Commodore, if he was not concerned there might be
repercussions? He said, he knew
the base CO, and did think he was doing a poor job.
-----------------------
THE COMMODORE'S STEWARD'S
FUR JACKET
In Inchon Harbor, the
Commodore's steward mate brought a fur lined jacket aboard. It was our policy to use DDT powder to
"disinfect" such garments. But a
short time before, the use of DDT had been ordered discontinued. I mentioned
to one of the Pharmacist Mates, the
only other method of sterilizing, we had aboard, was the steam
sterilizer. He took me at my
word, and the stench from the steam treated animal fur, permeated the whole
ship. The Commodore went out of
his way to assure the jacket was replaced by one from a more reliable
source.
-----------------------
LATE CALL/CLOSE
CALL
The Special Deity that
watched over the crew aboard, seemed to follow, when we left the ship. Enroute home, we spent a day in San
Diego. I checked into a hotel,
after trying repeatedly to reach my wife, Mary, by phone. It was late, so I left five dollars
with the desk clerk , with the request that he keep trying to compete the
call. I intended to leave a
wake-up call at that time. The
next thing I knew, I woke up at twenty-five minutes to eight, the next
morning. The WILKES was departing
at 0800 for Charleston via the Panama Canal. There was no time to negotiate the
return of my phone call deposit.
The only bills I had were much more than the cab driver deserved. But he did make very good time and I
stepped aboard the WILKES, as it was easing away from the dock.
ROBERT (BOB) WYATT,
MD--Medical Officer
=======================
ADDITIONAL STORY OF THE
BRITISH/CANADIAN CRUISER
After "V-E Day", the
British sent their Home Fleet to the Pacific to fight the Japs. They named some their cruisers after
one of the members of the Commonwealth.
One of their cruisers, the UGANDA, was transferred to the Royal
Canadian Navy in Oct 1944 and with the end of the war in Europe, joined us in
the Pacific. Towards the end of
the Pacific war, it was with our replenishment group, as one of the
escorts. I'd venture a guess that
the CO and OOD's weren't used to working at close quarters and with large
groups of ships. I was the OOD,
when I noticed the UGANDA cutting through the formation, so get into position
to refuel from the tankers.
Normally ships do not cut through formations but approach the tankers
from astern. I called the CO and
he immediately saw what was going on.
He took the Conn from me.
Since we had the "right of way", his first thought, was to maintain our
course and speed. In a split
second, he had second thoughts and ordered "All Back Full!!!!" It was a very wise move, as the
cruiser slipped by us by a very
narrow margin. No point in
keeping the "right of way" and having a bad accident. Everyone on our bridge gave a huge
sigh of relief and I'm sure the cruiser's did as well.
BILL
GREENE--Navigator
=====================
THE HARD WAY TO STOP BEING
SEASICK
The WILKES grounded a
month to the day after my 17th birthday.
I was an AS, the lowest form of shipboard life. It was my first time out on a
destroyer, although I had made one trip on an ammo ship. I was seasick from the time we left
Graves behind us 3 days earlier.
Seasickness didn't excuse anyone from watches. I had just gone on watch as a shell
handler beneath gun #2, when we struck.
The compartment (upper handling room #2) directly under gun 2, was
entered by a hatch on the starboard side of the foredeck.
The aroma of ether from
the canisters, in which the 5" powder cases were stored, did nothing to quiet
my churning stomach, and I believe I was next in line to upchuck into a
bucket, when we all felt a distinct thump beneath our feet, followed by 2 more
bumps. I stopped being seasick on the spot. In more than 2 years on the WILKES, in
all kinds of weather, I never was ill and have never been seasick again--so
far.
The PO in charge of our
watch sent a man up to see what was happening. I recall that a man soon opened the
hatch from out on deck and announced:
"There's a mountain out here, for C--sakes"!!!! The watch was ordered secured, since
there was now urgent work to do. We didn't lose anyone, but another AS lost
his footing, while carrying gear aft, and broke his knee cap, and got a
medical discharge. I met him in
NYC later and we hoisted a jar.
As a deck hand, once we
were alongside the PRAIRIE in Argentia, I helped handle lines for the hard-hat
diver, who went over the side to check our damage. The talker stood beside me and I
remember the diver reporting that he was "by frame 10" and "by" this and
that. Then he said "I'm in the
forward storeroom." The talker
asked, "Are you by the forward storeroom?" "Negative" came the reply, "I'm IN the forward
storeroom." He could have gone to
the forward mess hall, opened the deck hatch and stepped out--bringing the
Atlantic Ocean in with him.
We had to wait for good
weather to try for Boston, with another can to escort us. Meanwhile, one of the other tin cans
nested beside the PRAIRIE got underway.
The tender's band turned out on deck to play "Auld Lang Syne." Later another can got underway and the
band played "Anchors Aweigh". A
few days later, we limped away, listing to port and down by the head---
silence-no band. What music is
appropriate for a ship with 8 compartments flooded, missing 8 feet of her bow
and open back to frame 32? It was
better to leave quietly.
In our second major
mishap, we didn't lose anyone either, when we were rammed by a British tanker,
while escorting the heavy cruiser, AUGUSTA. We did have a close call. When word was passed "Standby to
abandon ship", our helmsman and lookout apparently just heard the last 2
words. They left the pilothouse
and jumped from the port wing of the bridge. Had they gone into the ocean, no one
would have found them. Instead,
they landed on the box of the tanker, as she was backing away from us. We limped back to Boston. They rode
the tanker to NYC, and rejoined the ship in Boston.
The closest we may have
come to losing a man was, while plowing through a North Atlantic gale
escorting a convoy. We used to
debate whether, considering how the WILKES took those storms, we should
collect submarine or flight pay, or possibly half of both? This day, some of us stood in the lee
of the superstructure, having an afternoon smoke, feet apart, as she rolled
and tossed. One man lost his
footing, shot under the starboard lifeline, headed towards the water, like a
torpedo and was gone.
As the WILKES labored up
and out of the trough of the sea and began her recovery, we pulled ourselves
to the rail and saw him dangling there.
He'd slid out on his back, catching the bottom lifeline with both
hands. He held on with dear life, as he was dragged through the sea. We all hauled him back on board, a
born-again Christian, if ever I saw one.
We were real a lucky
bucket, even with her lumps and scars. which left her with a slight port list
and rudder. More proof: When we engaged 2 Vichy cruisers off
Casablanca, one dropped a salvo of 6" shells right on us--and they
straddled. The Frenchman's aim
was perfect. We took the blasts
close aboard on both sides, and kept steaming. We did get some sprung plates and an
evaporator knocked out, nothing really serious. That evaporator never did work right
afterwards.
That same evaporator got
knocked out again, off Sicily, when a Italian bomber dropped a stick of bombs
close aboard. Later the Japs made
several good tries, but the WILKES maintained her record of always bringing
her crew back safely.
Sailors are a
superstitious lot. I decided the
WILKES would get us through anything, only to be broken up after the war and
turned into razor blades. Then I'd cut myself with one, while shaving and
bleed to death. In 1946, I bought
the first electric shaver sold aboard the heavy cruiser, COLUMBUS (CA
74).
WILLIAM "Bill" O'NEILL--RM
3/C
========================
THE
COLLISION
In mid- April 1942, I
reported on board, at the Charlestown Navy Yard, where she was undergoing
repairs from the grounding, in Feb.
I heard many tales of that and it reminded me of the grounding of 7
destroyers off Honda Point, Calif in 1923.
The day after Easter
Sunday, we got underway for Newport, R.I. to run some tests on her degaussing
cable. When they were done, we
anchored at about 1600 to await further orders. At 1800, we were underway, this time
for Casco Bay, Me, to conduct wartime exercises and maneuvers. In company with us, was the AUGUSTA
and another destroyer. I was
assigned to the 2000-2400 lookout watch that evening. As usual we had a few "Phantom U-boat"
scares, which made the watch pass along much quicker.
Upon being relieved, I
went below to clean up and hit the sack, which was located on the mess deck in
the forward section of the ship.
In those days, we were required to sleep fully clothed, except for our
shoes. So we would be ready for
any emergency, instead of wasting time groping for our clothes and trying to
dress on the run.
Along about 0130, I was
awakened by a jolt that shook my hammock, and along with it, I heard a screech
of metal against metal. At that
moment, in my sleep fogged mind, I didn't comprehend, just what it was. I looked around the compartment and
everything seemed normal; the standing red lights were still burning, the
ventilation was still humming away. There wasn't any sign of panic, such as
shouting or the sound of running feet.
So I passed it off as probably a "snap roll" that a destroyer takes
occasionally, and the noise I had heard, was some loose gear that slid across the
decks and banged into a bulkhead.
Suddenly the general alarm sounded!! The guessing games were over and I
knew then and there, we were in trouble.
I rushed aft to the ladder
leading to the main deck. As I
reached the top of the ladder, I heard someone shouting "Gangway!!-Clear the
way -- Injured man coming through!!"
I stepped aside as two men came through the hatch from the main deck,
carrying the injured man between them.
In the glare of those red standing lights, his wounds seemed much more
serious than they really were, as we found out later. As I stepped out of the hatch on the
starboard side, I noticed a group of men gathered around the top of the
forward fire room hatch, and as I approached the men, I stumbled over
something. That "something" was
the deck!! It was buckled
and twisted like an accordion.
I had surmised by then
that the trouble was in the fire room, as I saw a steady cloud of vapor
drifting over the superstructure from port to starboard. I climbed the ladder that led to the
foc'sle deck and crossed over to the port side and looked down. What I saw, sent shivers up my
spine! For what was once a solid
deck, was a huge gaping "V" shaped, jagged gash, that penetrated almost the
whole width of the ship! The
searchlight on the bridge was aimed down upon the carnage, and I could see the
twisted piping of the steam lines and oily water swirling through the wreckage
of the fire room. We had been
rammed by an empty British tanker, which at that moment was laying to, off our
port side about a quarter of a mile away. Luckily there weren't any "U" boats
around, as we were both lit up like Times Square on New Year's
Eve!
Eventually we were
mustered and all hands were accounted for. Then a Coast Guard vessel arrived on
the scene and offered assistance and to rescue the crew, in case the ship had
to be abandoned. So
far, the WILKES seemed to be holding her own - still on an even keel and no
signs of breaking up or sinking.
In due time the Damage Control Officer reported the extent of the
damage to the Captain. He told
the CO that the ship was sea worthy and could get underway, but at minimum
speed. Then with the Coast Guard
ship as our escort, we slowly made out way back to the Charlestown Navy
Yard. As we limped passed the
piers and wharves of the Boston waterfront, they were lined with sightseers,
waving and cheering us. They must
have thought we had been torpedoed.
The ship's keel was badly
warped. The Ship Yard fixed that
by placing her in dry-dock, cutting her in half, weighting her bow section
down, filling the dry-dock enough to float the after section. Lining
everything up and they clamped the two sections together. The dry-dock was then drained and she
rested on the blocks, previously set up.
Then the two sections were welded, patched and otherwise made into one
ship again. Within
two months the WILKES was once again a fighting ship. I made one more cruise in her and in
August of that year, I was transferred to a new destroyer.
------------------------
SEQUEL--
When the tanker plowed
into us, I assume the Captain feared when the tanker backed out, the cold sea
water rushing in, would explode the boilers, causing the ship to break in half
and sink. So he passed the word
over the PA system to "Prepare to Abandon Ship." The cables to other parts of the ship
must have been cut, as the word didn't get through. However, the port lookout and helmsman
heard part of the order. The
tanker was empty and her bow was just about the same level as our bridge. So our boys scrambled on top of the
flag bag railing and stepped on to the tanker's deck, as if it was tied up at
a pier.
These fellows rode the
tanker down to NYC and turned themselves in to the Pier 92, Navy Receiving
Station. What a sight they were,
slogging through the streets of NY in faded, sloppy foul weather gear, and
badly in need of a shave and bath.
The authorities couldn't or wouldn't believe their story and promptly
hauled them off to the brig as deserters. After three days of pleading, the Navy
finally check their story out and they were released. They rejoined the ship in
Boston.
Down in the forward fire
room, the impact of the collision, tossed the men about, as the bow of the
tanker knifed through the hull, between #1 and #2 boilers. In her path were the vital pipe lines
and electrical cables, that were severed like wet spaghetti. High pressure steam, coursing through
these lines, provided power to the main propulsion plant. Should any of these lines rupture, the
escaping steam at 600 pounds per square inch, would cut a man in half. At superheated temperature (850
degrees F), the men in the space would be cooked to death within seconds.
Once again, luck, or the
WILKES' Guardian Angel was with her and her crew. The lines were cut so fine that they were held
in place so snugly that the steam was held back from escaping in a huge
blast. Within minutes the
watertender of the watch gathered his sense of Navy discipline and training
together, and with a cool head, ordered his crew to take the necessary steps
to secure the boiler and machinery, while he released the pressure off the
boilers. The watertender was just
completing securing the main steam stops and had ordered his men to leave the
fire room, when the tanker started to back out.
The other men, by this
time, had already left, one of them was the injured man I mentioned
earlier. As the sea rushed in, it
tore him loose from the valve wheel he was holding. He was carried across the width of the
fire room and smashed into the opposite bulkhead. He was knocked out from the blow, but
the shock of the cold water revived him.
The water soon reached its
own level and he was able to wade in the water, just below hip level, and made
it to the escape ladder. He
climbed out on his own, with some assistance from the men on top of the
hatch. He got a few bruises,
aching muscles, bones and 13 stitches across his forehead. Dr Trombetta did a fine job patching
him up.
ROBERT PARKIN--BT 1/c
====================
From the WILKESONIAN ----AUGUST 5, 1943 (courtesy--Charlie
Sproul)
"The following messages
received recently are quoted for your information:
From: Prime Minister
Churchill
To: General Eisenhower,
Supreme Commander-in Chief of all Allied Forces in the
Mediterranean
"Congratulations on the
unfolding success of the Sicilian Campaign. I should be grateful if you would give
my compliments to Admiral Hewitt.
The weather gave occasion, according to reports made by the British
Admiralty, for a magnificent display of American
seamanship."
From: Admiral
Hewitt
To: Our Task Force
Commanders
"General Eisenhower
desires me to express to you and your task forces his congratulations and deep
appreciation of the splendid manner in which the operation was carried
out"
From: Admiral Hewitt
To: Our Task
Forces
"Due to careful planning,
excellent seamanship, gunnery and engineering, and a high standard of
proficiency and devotion to duty by all hands, the most difficult and
complicated task of landing our troops on hostile shores has been successfully
accomplished. I consider that all
hands, from the highest ranks to the lowest ratings have performed splendidly
and are deserving of the highest praise.
"WELL DONE".
From: Our Task Force
Commander
To:
Our Own Attack Force
"After study of action
reports and observation of the operation, I am greatly pleased with the
professional skill, determination, and aggressive spirit of this Force. The operation was a great success and
many messages of congratulations have been received from the High
Commands. WELL DONE".
--------------------------
And so, men, another
campaign has been successfully launched and followed through. The WILKES, as usual, has been there
in the front. We successfully
accomplished our particular mission, and did so without a single casualty to
personnel or material, due to enemy action. Why? Simply because WE WERE PREPARED and
all hands pulled together AS A TEAM.
We have added new glories to our already fine record of the past. The spirit and tradition of this, our
ship, lives on. I expected every
man aboard to do his duty. I am
proud of each and everyone of you.
CARRY ON.
Sincerely
F. Wolsieffer
Lieutenant Commander, USN
Commanding, U.S.S. WILKES
--------------------------
THE EXEC.
SPEAKS
Another availability -
leave, liberty, recreation and
WORK. Another chance to take NY
apart and see just what makes the wheels go around. Our opportunity to have all of the fun
and relaxation that we haven't had for the past 2 months.
I assume that every man on
board knows how and where to relax, but did you think of the following
points:
1. The war is not yet finished! We will return to it some day soon for
another inning! Now is the time
when we must prepare the material condition of the WILKES for her next
cruise.
2. In the interest of comfort this will
be a dungaree ship after we leave the States. If port watches are to be stood in
dungarees, they must be regulation, clean and complete. There will be ample small stores
parties to insure all hands an opportunity to draw dungarees, white hats (to
be dyed blue), and belts, in addition to the other necessary
items.
3. Admitting the fact that we have a crew
of fighting men, we must still look like civilized sailors in New York. In other words, get your haircut the
first night over - take pride in your appearance, as a representative of the
U.S. Navy.
4. Your officers have planned just as
much leave and liberty for the men on the WILKES, as is possible, having in
mind the work that must be accomplished.
Don't let us down! 10% of
the crew at Captain's Mast after the last availability was a disgrace to the
entire ship and it must not happen again.
5. Our time in New York is too short to
be wasted. When on liberty, pack
as much pleasure into those hours as you possibly can. And always remember, that we will go
sailing soon again - make your preparations now!
R. E. Weiss
Executive Officer
-------------------------
ORCHIDS---- We, the
officers and men of the WILKES, wish to extend our deep appreciation to you,
our Captain and Commodore, for having guided us successfully and safely
through our recent Sicilian campaign-----
A "WELL DONE" should be
entered in this service record of the Electrician's Mate, who installed the
fans in the Mess Hall.
Many thanks to those
engineers, who did such a swell job in helping maintain our ship in fighting
condition.
That was a swell job
SMITTY, of handling that gun in the emergency at Blue Beach. Congratulations ..........
-------------------------
5 Aug 1943
From: Ensign H.I. Mobley Jr., Asst.
Lookout Officer
To: The
Executive Officer
Subject: 48 hour leaves for
satisfactory service performed:
1. Compilation of tabulated impressions
concerning service of all lookouts, by all bridge watch officers, clearly
indicates that 3 men have earned the promised 48 hour
leave.
2. These men are:
PAVLOVIC, G. (8 out of 8
votes)
HARTMAN, P. ( 7 out of 8
votes)
GUNTER, L. A. (7 out of 8
votes)
Approved: R. E. WEISS
Henry I. Mobley
--------------------------
The following master-piece
has been submitted by one of the crew.
When God gave out looks, I
thot He said "books", I didn't want any.
When God gave out noses, I
thot He said "roses", I ordered a big red one.
When God gave out ears, I
thot He said "beers", I ordered 2 big ones.
When God gave out heads, I
thot He said 'beds', I ordered a thick one.
When God gave out brains,
I thot He said "trains", I missed mine.
When God gave out legs, I
thot He said "kegs", I order 2 short ones.
Gawd, Ain’t I a mess?
ED NOTE: A SAMPLE OF THE OTHER ITEMS
PUBLISHED:
Wonder what all the
officers are getting in shape for, doing calisthenics daily on this return
trip only? Any dope Mr.
Whiting????
"Rusty" Miller claims
there's nothing like hot Prune Juice as an aperitif to make room for more
chow.
I wonder if when we get
back to the states, we're going to have a Chief
Signalman??
How about it Tip?????
(Tipton)
It looks like the "C" Div
is losing men. I only hope that
Henslee and Murray get plenty of fresh air, sleep and exercise while out on
the deck.
Congratulations "Daddy"
Cline, on the birth of your daughter.
Rogers, radioman striker
looks like a promising future radioman.
"GOOD LUCK ROG".
I wonder when Bo is going
to get that 15 days leave he's been after the last 6 trips in. Come on now Mr. Weiss, have a
heart......
Mr. Mobley expects to make
the middle aisle this time in.
Best of luck to you!!!!!
Hergenhan ought to make a
pretty good baker by the time Joe finishes with him. Or will he get tired and quit, like
all the rest of the helpers?
ON THE LIGHTER
SIDE
Is it true that BEAN, Cox,
expects to receive a Hollywood offer soon? ... or could it be that those
photographers were not talent scouts after all???? With all the forthcoming leave and
liberty, I wonder if our money will hold out after the first night??? There will be quite a few sea stories
spun around some of the souvenirs the boys take home. I know of a certain German helmet with
3 bullet holes. We hear Mr.
O'Berry is suing Doc Stollman for the cost of new uniforms....claiming the
later's diet made him lose 20 pounds and now all his uniforms look like sacks
on him. Do you think your wife
will let you keep that thing under you nose, Mr. Samford?????? (Ed Note: Sammy was trying to grow a rather
straggly mustache). Leotta,
S2/c says he has a pair of sea legs he'll sell cheap. Da early bird gets em, so see Leotta
quick!! He needs the money for
liberty.
FAMOUS
SAYINGS:
O'Leary "I want a
transfer."
Ash: "Oh, but she is a
swell girl.
Symonds "Hey O'Keefe, give
me a Special Request slip"
Moroz: " Martin, how much
pay do I have on the books?"
Schwartz: "Hey Dunn, keep those guys out of my
boat."
MORE FROM THE
WILKESONIAN
Just prior to our coming
back to Seattle in Dec 1944, the following was published:" The crew of the
"Mightly W" will proceed on leave in an orderly, gentlemanly manner. After a year of doing what we've been
doing can this be possible????
Remember NEWPORT in
1943?...tsk, tsk... too bad... and remember PANAMA in the same year???? too
bad.....then BALBOA in 1944????too bad!!! We'll try sir, but after all
.......nature must take her own course."
========================
AS OTHERS SEE
US
From the Commander of
another TF: "Admire the
efficiency with which you picked up survivors and saved the lives of our B-24
crew on Sept 3."
From our Fleet
Commander: "Well done to the all
star cast that played in Palau.
I'm booking the company to play before the best audiences on the
Asiatic Station."
From our TF Commander: " A
richly deserved well done."
From our Screen Commander:
"Captain Greenacres' Division performed their varied and valuable duties
smartly and efficiently. They
were outstanding in the rescue of downed aviators."
===================
BOGEY OR
FRIENDLY
Before we went on picket
station at Okinawa in the summer of '45, we were assigned to duty for a time
in the "middle screen" at Kerama Retto
(which had the code name--"Wiseman's Cove"). Ships and planes were everywhere. Our CIC was kept busy keeping track of
them by radar and identifying the aircraft as "friend or foe" with the IFF
equipment. One night we were at
GQ and picked up a bogey on the SC radar (air search). This bogey was closing on the ships in
the lagoon. After several frantic
minutes of trying and failing to get IFF confirmation that the plane was
friendly, Captain Rommel ordered the 5" guns to commence firing. After several rounds had been fired,
an announcement came over the TBS, that sent chills up our spines. "Friendly Peter Baker Mike (PBM)
making an emergency water landing
4 miles south of Wiseman's Cove."
We were heartsick. We
thought for sure, we had shot down one of our own PBM Mariners. It wasn't until the next day, we
learned the PBM had not been shot
down, but had to make an emergency landing because it had run out of
fuel. Everyone was
relieved.
--------------------------
NO REST FOR THE
WICKED
After the Japanese had
surrendered, the WILKES escorted some CVE's and tankers into the Yellow Sea,
as a show of force. There were a
million or so of Japanese Army troops on the mainland. We encountered so many floating mines,
that no one could claim he wasn't concerned. We could spot them and destroy them in
the daytime, but nighttime was quite another matter. Dick Kelley, our Communication
Officer, elected to sleep at night high up on the flying bridge. He said he got through the war alive
and was sure as heck didn't want to get wiped out, now the war was over.
The chiefs jokingly had it
figured out, if we struck a mine in the vicinity of the chief's quarters, it
wouldn't explode until it got to the officers' quarters.
-----------------------
JINSEN
HARBOR
After the war was over,
and some of our officers had enough "points" to get out. Bill Greene, who had been our
navigator, was one of the lucky ones.
Captain Rommel picked me to be the new navigator. I had to learn the new job in a big
hurry. Shortly, we got orders to
go up to Jinsen (Inchon). I had
to get acquainted with the new charts. My recollection is that he sailed
towards Jinsen at a much higher speed than I was comfortable with. I recall frantically taking bearings
on various navigational aids, but I don't think my "piloting" was of much
help. The Captain decided to go
in the harbor, which only could be done at high tide (the harbor had 30 foot
tides). We got in safely thanks
to the Captain's fine seamanship and the 30 foot tide.
WALLACE "WALLY" MAGEE--CIC
Watch Officer/Navigator
========================
THE WILKESONIAN--(excerpts
from the 7/8/45 issue)
It seems we have 2
celebrities, in the mess hall, who used to sing over the radio....1 of them ,
as a lot of you know, is "COWBOY" BOOTH... THE OTHER IS: "THE VOICE" BORDEN,
who sang with Frank Sinatra.
We are all wondering
if MC PHERSON and FULLERTON will
get past Washington State, while on leave--very doubtful.
It certainly would be
enlightening to be under the bar, when VERNON CRAIG starts telling of the
great battles we've fought out here.
HENRY YATES--Master
tailor. Priced to fit any
pocketbook. Fancy work a
specialty. Open evenings until 9
o'clock. Tel 42 for appt.
L.A. GUNTER will be happy
to get back where he can take his shoes off and eat chittlin's and poke
salad.....Thank the girls for the jokes, LAUGHLIN--they came in handy at sea
details.
Stand back from that hose
fellows, we're going to pump out this peak tank, over the
side.
-------------------------
ODE
Oh, here's to
Gyro
That sea-going
tyro
That canine
terror
So full of
error
That pup still
frisky
When seas are
risky
What dog of the
nations
That spawn of
creation
That dog so
kind,
We clean up
behind.
Oh!
Editor's Note: Gyro was a small dog of uncertain
lineage, which we picked up swimming off New Guinea. Prior to that, we had another small
dog, (Rusty) picked up in North Africa.
However, the bright lights of NYC proved too much for him and he
deserted the ship.
========================
HOW THE WILKES WAS BORN
AND GREW UP
One day in Washington, DC,
the powers that be convened, and after due deliberation and consideration,
decided that what this country needed was a bigger Navy. So the necessary papers were drawn,
signed and dated 27th March 1934, and filed. Then everyone went home happy and
contented, in the thought that: " No one will molest the USA, after they see
the Navy WE BUILD".
In the fall of 1939, an
office boy looking for a place to hide his lunch, found those same papers in
the dusty corner of a filing cabinet.
Undecided what to do with them, he left them lying on someone's
desk. A secretary picked them up
and mailed them to the Charleston Navy Yard, Boston. When they got them, they rolled up
their sleeves and went to work.
Letters and orders went out and soon material started rolling
in.
On the first of Nov 1939,
the keel was laid. In the year
that followed, shapeless pieces of steel slowly grew into the outlines of a
ship. All the various products
necessary for the building of a ship poured into her hull. Steel from the rolling mills of Smoky
Pittsburgh, copper from the hot and dry open pit mines of Utah, aluminum from
Arkansas, zinc from the mines of Missouri. Machinery from New Jersey, Alabama,
New England, New York and the Midwest.
Pumps, turbines, gears, compressors, refrigerators, boilers,
generators, radio equipment, guns, and fire control gear. When the chatter of the rivet guns and
sputter of welding machines stopped, the hull of DD 441 was ready.
On a warm, clear May day
in 1940, a gentleman with gold on his hat made a nice speech. A lady stood up, said a few words and
clouted the hull of DD 441, right on the nose, with a bottle of
champagne. So sliding into the
cool waters of Boston Harbor, the U. S. S. WILKES (DD 441) was
christened. Waiting tugs caught
her and put alongside the fitting out dock. Once again there was a mad clatter of
rivet guns and the sputter of welding machines. Another year passed, and the Bureau of
Navigation was notified that a destroyer in the Charleston Navy Yard, Boston,
needed a crew. Their machinery
clanked into motion.
Sailors from tugs in Norfolk, battleships and cruisers in the Pacific,
and old 4 stack cans, started to move into Boston. Men of all ages, sizes and rates,
from S 2/c to Chief Petty
Officer. A Lieutenant Commander,
a couple of Lieutenants, a few Jay-Gees and a half-dozen starry eyed Ensigns,
175 men in all. Men of all
descents: Swedish, German, Irish, French, English, Italian, Jewish, Scotch and
Polish, but AMERICANS--every last one!!!
On the 21st of April, the
crew moved aboard. On the 22nd of
April, 1941, at 1400, an honor guard of Marines, stood by, while the Captain
of the Yard, read the orders that made the ship, a commissioned vessel in the
United States Navy. The colors
were run up, to the accompaniment of a Marine bugler, while all hands stood at
attention. The commission pennant
was run up to the head of the mainmast, where it fluttered lightly in the soft
spring breeze.
Then Lieutenant Commander
John D. Kelsey, read his orders, that made him the Captain of the ship. After being congratulated by the
Captain of the Yard, he turned to the Chief Boatswain Mate and said: "Bo's'n,
set the watch." The Bo's'n ,
"Aye, Aye, Sir," turned and blew a blast on his pipe and roared, as only a
bo's'n can roar, " First section in-port watch, set the watch." Turning back to the Captain, he said:
"The watch is set, sir." The
Captain replied, "Very well." He
returned the Bo's'n's salute, turned and march off with the Captain of the
Yard and the rest of the officers.
The Marines were marched off by their sergeant. The crew stood on the fantail and
wondered, " What in the hell are we gonna do now?" They were dismissed by the Chiefs and
began to wander around. Suddenly
the loudspeaker barked, "Liberty commences immediately for the liberty
section." The problem of what to
do next was solved.
In the weeks that followed
the commissioning, the Yard was busy installing the main battery, the
director, and torpedo tubes. The
crew was loading stores, ammo, spare parts and learning the operation of
different machinery, in their particular part of the ship. Dock trials were held and the guns
bore sighted on the monument on Bunker Hill. June was spent making speed runs and
calibrating the ship's compass and radio equipment. The ship would make a speed run inside
Cape Cod and when she tied up at the Yard, the crew would make a speed run to
City Square or Scollay Square, depending on the individual.
In July with a sad
farewell to Boston, the "W" headed south. After an uneventful trip, she arrived
at Hamilton, Bermuda. After a few
liberties in the peaceful community, the inhabitants donated to the Navy, 6 or
7 holes of the their beautiful golf course. This was to be used for a ball field
and a place to drink beer. They
had sensibly reasoned, a golf course is easier to rebuild than a town. At the end of August, the people of
Bermuda, with tears in their eyes (of joy, no doubt), saw the WILKES depart
for the North.
September saw the "W"
again in Boston, but not for long.
Radar (SC) was installed and the "W" went to Casco Bay, Me., for
gunnery exercises. It was here
the "W" picked up her first sound contact. Depth charges were set and for 2
hours, she steamed in circles, losing contact and picking it up again. Then someone found out the soundmen
were picking up the beat of the "W"'s own screws. She was chasing her fantail, like a
dog chasing its own tail. A few
days later another contact was made, this time after making sure it wasn't her
own screws. a pattern of depth charges were dropped. The "W" shook and shuddered and the
sea boiled with the underwater explosions. A lookout saw a disturbance on the
surface, the guns were trained out.
Suddenly a broad black object came into sight, there was a jet of
vapor, and a splash of a broad tail.
Someone broke the tension with a curse and the word "blackfish", and
blackfish it was. A dazed and
indignant blackfish and a disgusted can slowly parted company.
Dec 7th found the "W" in
the North Atlantic, convoying merchantmen to England. The North Atlantic was cold, bleak,
and one long continuous storm.
Heavy seas smashed and battered her all the way over and back. The bridge, 45 feet above the
waterline, was ankle deep in water, more often than not. At one time, the after fire room
personnel were unable to get out of the fire room for 72 hours, because the
seas were washing over the main deck.
So they stayed below, living on bread, baloney, coffee, and
cigarettes. To walk on the main
deck was asking for trouble. If
the sea didn't get you, the Old Man would. A summary court was yours, if you got
caught. A convoy was picked up at
Argentia, Newfoundland and delivered to the English, about 500 miles from the
coast of Scotland. Sound contacts
were made and depth charges dropped.
One fine, dark day, land was sighted, barren, desolate, to be sure, but
still land--Iceland. We dropped the hook a few miles from Reykjavik. Even at anchor, she rolled, until the
main deck was under water. So we
upped anchor and moved into a small cove and anchored again. 5 days were spent trying to repair the
damage done by the sea. Sunrise
was at 1000- when the sky changed from black to light gray. At 1430, it was dark again. The U.S.S. KEARNY was there,
getting emergency repairs. The
crew got to see what a torpedo could do to a DD.
Underway again, with a
tanker, that had been torpedoed.
As we moved south, the days got longer and pretty soon we could see the
sun. We stopped in Argentia for
fuel and then raced South to Boston, arriving on Xmas Eve. Ah Boston!!!! Where there was something to eat
besides a bowl of rice and beans, or beans and rice. You could eat sitting down too,
instead of wrapped around a stanchion.
Cigarettes and coffee were no longer needed to sustain life. Ah Yes - Boston!! Where everyone went ashore to see old
friends and came back aboard full of Christmas cheer and good spirits. From the hangovers, there seemed to be
more spirits than anything else.
On Jan 1, she was underway
again to Casco Bay for gunnery exercises. Then to sea-convoying to Northern
Ireland. The North Atlantic was
as nasty as usual. We arrived in
Londonderry, the first U.S. warship to enter since the war started. North Ireland, a very green island of
fog, rain, big women, and John J. Jamison whiskey, was the US's first stepping
stone to the European invasion.
After 5 days of struggling with pounds, shillings, and pence, the crew
was willing to give up and go home.
So the mighty "W" headed back to the States. We got some yard time, where the 50
Caliber machine guns were replaced by 4 - 20MM guns and 2 sets of twin-mounted 40MM
guns were mounted. Then she was
ready for sea again.
Then came the grounding on
Feb 18 and the collision with the DAVILLA on April 8th, with all their
problems and repairs.
In July 1942, our home
port was changed from Boston to NYC and after repairs were done, we went to
Casco Bay for training. Then an
uneventful trip to Newfoundland again, then back to NYC. We went to Norfolk to pick up a south
bound convoy. German subs trailed
us and several depth charge attacks were made by different escorts,
including the "W". A few days later the last ship in the
outside column was hit fore and aft by torpedoes and she sank in 12
minutes. Her crew was picked up
by the KEARNEY. Later, the same
afternoon, we got a good sound contact and we dropped depth charges. This time large air bubbles came to
the surface, along with some oil.
Another attack was
conducted. What looked like a bow
of a sub broke the surface, rolled over and sank from view. There was quite a bit of oil on the
surface. Further sound searches
were negative.
The rest of the trip and the return to NYC were uneventful.
Back to Halifax, NS and on
Aug 22, we along with other ships in our convoy left for England. A few nights later, there was a
violent explosion in the convoy.
The INGRAHAM, part of our
Division, was investigating a sound contact in the middle of the convoy. She was rammed by the CHEMUNG and
sunk, with few survivors.
After delivering the convoy, the "W" went into Greenock, Scotland and
anchored. The crew got liberty
and they roamed around the countryside, visiting Glasgow, Edinburgh, to say
nothing of various jails. John J.
Jamison's whisky still had boxing gloves in every bottle.
We returned to the States
in late Sept, and dropped anchor in Norfolk. By this time, the Army and Navy were
practicing for the invasion of North Africa. The Solomon Islands in Chesapeake
Bay echoed with the roar of invasion barges landing men and the ships firing
on the beach. The "W" was right
in the middle of the action.
After a couple of weeks of practice, we made a short run up to
Annapolis for liberty.
Inevitably, several of the boys found that some buildings in Baltimore
had vertical bars, instead of horizontal ones.
On Oct 24th, a large
convoy left Norfolk for the invasion of North Africa, with the "W" as one of
the escorts. On the way, one of
the planes from the U.S.S. RANGER (CV 4) crashed near us. We rescued the crew with our motor
whale boat. Early in the morning
of Nov 8th, we anchored close to shore off Fedhala, French North West,
Africa. Shore searchlights went
on and off and just before 0600 the shore batteries opened fire, straddling
the "W". We got underway
immediately (even quicker than that) and returned the fire. Our argument with the shore batteries
went off and on, until about 1150
rounds of 5" were fired. That
disagreement was resolved in our favor.
We then got in close to Casablanca, just as 3 French cruisers and 2
cans were coming out firing. The
"W" went charging into battle.
The Commodore wanted to know what the Skipper had in mind. The Old-Man was going to run through
the enemy and fire our torpedoes.
The Commodore yelled, "Like hell you are, turn this can around". The CO gently reminded the Commodore,
that he, J. B. McLean was in command of the "W". The Commodore roared: " I don't give a
damn, what you are in command of, I'm in command of this Division. Helmsman! Reverse course!!!" The helmsman, a very smart fellow, who
had already reasoned that 3 stripes would win any argument with 2 1/2 stripes
(and watching shell splashes close aboard), had already spun the wheel and put
the ship on its new course, replied
to the Commodore "Course reversed, Sir."
Fire from the Augusta and
Brooklyn knocked this outfit out.
Later a French cruiser and 2 cans came out. The "W" with the help of 2 other cans
chased the 3 enemy ships back into Casablanca. Of course, the battle wagon
Massachusetts had a little to do with that too. At 1400 Fedhala quit fighting and the
"W" started ASW patrolling. Just
before sundown, subs attacked the ships off the beach. 1 ship was sunk, 1 burned, 3 others
hit. During the night the BRISTOL
made contact and dropped charges.
A tincan was torpedoed. In
the morning we picked up a French sailor, floating face down-quite dead. We turned his body over to the French
authorities in Fedhala. On the
11th, Casablanca quit and we patrolled until the 17th. We then left, with a convoy for
Norfolk, arriving on the 30th.
Then for Casco Bay for
gunnery training, where the guns and crew promptly froze up, and unable to
work. Christmas was spent at
anchor in Casco Bay. Who ever
heard of anyone having a good time at Casco????
New Year's Day 1943 was
spent at sea. Then to the
Brooklyn Shipyard for some work.
Afterwards, we took a convoy to Casablanca. Upon our arrival the crew went ashore
to see the sights and to see what damage had been done. Sunken ships littered the harbor. The French Battleship - JEAN BART,
which took part in the defense of the port, was tied to a dock. She was riding low in the water,
having been badly mauled during the fight. The partially completed, Richelieu was
also hit hard. We left on the
30th for the States, escorting another convoy. We arrived in NYC, via Norfolk on Feb
l4.
After 3 months of running between Casablanca,
Norfolk and NYC, the crew went ashore in Colon, Panama. The liquid refreshments served here
were potent, and affected the drinker in many ways. One of the crew thought he'd go swimming and our boat crew
fished him out of the water half way back to the ship (still in full
uniform). Another made a
beautiful swan dive off of a dock, into 4 inches of water. While he survived, he'd carry the
scars for life.
LOUIS R. SCHWARTZ--MoMM
2/C (Ed Note: There
is much more to his story, but much has been covered by others). He was in the pre-commission detail
and served all through the War on the ship (a plank owner). He was a fine
engineer for the ship's whale boat.
========================
STORIES ABOUT HENRY
MOBLEY
Henry was somewhat older
than the other officers, with thin blondish hair and a receding hair
line. He was from Georgia and
before the War had worked for the Federal Government. He was very well liked by everyone, as
he had a very even temperament and a fine sense of humor. He could always see the funny and
bright side of any situation.
He was a very good OOD and
whenever I relieved him, I could be sure that we were right on station. The watch set and everything was
tidy. We were convoying in the
North Atlantic and the weather was lousy and the seas very rough. Henry had the 0800-1200 watch and he
was doing his best to keep everyone from being tossed around. The CO was in his cabin doing fitness
reports. At dinner that night he
wanted to know who the OOD was on the 0800-1200. Henry owned up that he was OOD. The CO said while doing the reports,
he got thrown out of his chair and on to the deck (rather
unceremoniously). Because of
that, Henry got a 2.5 on his fitness report. Henry was rather nonplused. He said he
had a good job in civilian life and allowed he didn't plan to make the Navy
his career anyway.
===================
CHRISTMAS
POEM--1943
We got back into the
Brooklyn Navy Yard- Christmas Day 1943.
We had a terrible rough return trip, including a 3 day bout with a
hurricane. The following poem
appeared in the Wardroom on Xmas Eve.
We all figured Henry was the author.
The
poem:
'Twas the night before
Christmas, and all through the ship,
Not an echo was
stirring--not even a PIP.
The off-going watch had
all closed their eyes
and were blissfully
dreaming, of snowy white thighs.
The Wolf in his cabin, and
the boot in his rack,
had just settled down for
a nice long sack.
When up on the bridge,
there rose a great yell,
The whistle and siren were
blowing like Hell.
Old Santa was there, but
he wasn't so happy;
He was howling and cussing
like old Poop-Deck Pappy.
He made the air blue from
gunnel to gunnel,
for his fanny was stuck in
number one funnel.
The O.D had ordered "Pump,
Dump and Blow,"
and Santa Claus' tail was
beginning to glow.
The fireroom blowers had
started to whine,
and the pressure built up
behind Santa's behind.
With a pop he was out,
like a wine bottles' cork,
but the gift that he left
us was one week in New York.
by Henry Mobley-Poet
Laureate--U.S.S. WILKES -
Christmas 1943
-------------------------
JUSTIN "BUDGE" WHITING
III
Budge was my second room
mate, until he couldn't stand the radiomen waking me up in the middle of the
night to decode some incoming message.
A few days after I started rooming with him, I noticed a rather large
round hole in the bulkhead, between our room and Sammy Samford's. The hole was right at the level of
Budge's pillow. My curiosity got
the better of me and I asked: "How come the hole?" Budge said that Sammy was cleaning his
.45 and forget to take the clip out.
The gun fired and the bullet came through the bulkhead. I allowed it was sure lucky he wasn't
in the bunk when it happened.
Budge replied: "I was asleep on the pillow", as it nothing unusual had
occurred and it happened every day.
Budge was married and had
a son, Justin IV, of whom he was very proud. They lived in Scarsdale, in
Westchester, about 15 miles north of NYC. For awhile he and I were on the same
in port watch section and had liberty at the same time. We'd both be waiting on the quarter
deck for liberty to start. We'd
both walk like mad through the shipyard, down Sand St. to the subway
entrance. Run up the stairs, jump
on the first train and get off at Grand Central Station. Then we'd split up, as I had to go on
the NY, NH&H.
Since the CO wasn't much
of a ship handler, Budge and his deck gang were always busy fixing up the
damage. I hadn't been on board very long, when we did torpedo
firing practice in Chesapeake Bay.
We picked up the 2 dummy
fish at the Torpedo Station at Yorktown, very early in the
morning. It was a beautiful
sunny, calm day. We fired
the 2 fish but the CO was very unhappy with the results. After the practice, Budge and his men
tried to recover the fish, and had a terrible time. I was JOOD and the CO was yelling, and
raising the devil with Budge.
Finally we got the fish back on board and headed back to Yorktown to
drop them off.
By the time we got there,
the wind had picked up. The CO
tried several times to go alongside their pier, without success. Budge, Henry and their gang were trying to get the
bowline on to the pier. The air
on the bridge was "blue."
Finally we hit the pier and knocked down about 30 ft of wooden pilings,
etc. The CO of the Station came
down and was less than happy. We
lost 20 or so feet of life line, up forward plus some stanchions. Out came the welders to fix up our
damage. I would have
expected Budge to be a bit uptight, after all that commotion, but to him, it
was all in a days work.
-------------------------
STORIES ABOUT SY
DENNIS
Sy had been a lawyer in
civilian life. He was a good old
boy from Texas, with the drawl, sun tan, and droll sense of humor. He and Henry Mobley had come on board
the same time, and a few months before I did. They were 'old timers". He was a native of Nolan, a very small
town SW of Abilene. As I recall,
he had his law office in Sweetwater, as he was always talking about
Sweetwater. He loved Texas, and
everything about the life in the SW.
Henry and Sy made a good pair, both very conscientious people, both
top-notch.
When I came on board, he
was the #1 Ass't Comm Officer and had the job of going to the Registered Pubs
Offices, to turn in and draw new pubs, etc. Since we were in and out of NYC fairly
often, he was well known at the RPIO there. I quickly inherited that job. I showed up at the NY RPIO and said I
was from the WILKES, the lovely young Waves, wanted to know "Where's Mr.
Dennis?" They were afraid that
some misfortune had overtaken him.
I quickly assured them that Sy was in fine health and spirits. They were much relieved. They all said what a fine fellow he
was, what a nice smile and that they would miss him.
Sy and Henry kept up the
spirits of those in the wardroom.
Without them, it would have been a dull place indeed.
Sy was a good OOD-nothing
bothered him. I never stood
watches with him, but those who did always praised his ship handling. He was a good steadying influence on
the bridge.
-----------------------
STORIES OF BENNETT C.
"BUCK" O'BERRY
I'm sure everyone on the
ship has stories to tell about Buck.
He was the best liked officer on the ship-by far and respected as
well. He came on board about 3
weeks after I did and by that time, I was the "old timer". Buck was from SW Virginia, Smithfield
ham country. He too was a ''good
old boy" with a ready smile and joke.
We had been going between NY and Norfolk and he picked us up in
Norfolk. A couple of days after
he arrived, we got underway to go back to NY. He had the JOOD watch 2000-2400. After dinner, he came over to me and
said he had the upcoming watch, but had no idea how to get up to the
bridge. Unfortunately, no one had
given him a tour of the ship. So
I gave him a crash course. He stood his watch. He and I became fast friends.
Buck liked to get off the
ship as much as possible. Since I
had to go to the RPIO to draw new pubs etc., I had to have another armed
officer with me. He made an
excellent companion. The
civilians on the subway must been surprised to see 2 men, armed with .45's,
both carrying a heavy sack. Even
in NYC, that must have been a bit unusual.
------------------------
THE
HAMS
As we said before, the CO
fancied himself to be a gourmet.
Buck had said that he was from the part of Virginia that "grew"
Smithfield Hams. The CO's ears
perked up when he heard that news.
Every time we were in Norfolk, he'd bug Buck about getting him some of
those hams. Now, as you recall,
during the War, meat was closely rationed and items like Smithfield hams, were
scarce to non-existent. Finally
Buck told the CO, if he could get a 48 hour pass, he'd go home and bring back
6 hams or so. The CO didn't want to give Buck the 48 hour, but finally gave
in. Buck caught a ride home and
came back with the hams. The CO
was delighted. We got a couple in
the mess, but as I recall, the CO gave the rest to his friends in NYC. The hams were
delicious.
---------------------
IN
HACK
Buck was a bit heavy set,
by nature. The CO decreed that
everyone watch their weight, and Buck most of all. The CO told Buck: "No eating between
meals!!" and had to lose
weight!!!! If he didn't -big
trouble. Buck didn't figure on
the CO being serious about anything as trivial, as losing weight. Now the CO was also
overweight.
On our way to North Africa
and then on to Sicily, Buck was standing the 0000-0400 watch in the
director. I was standing the same
JOOD watch with Gene Somers as OOD.
One very dark night, about 0200, the CO came on to the bridge, just in
a rage. He had Buck in tow. Gene and I were very surprised-amazed
would be a better description. It
took us a few minutes to figure out what was going on. The CO had told the mess stewards, if
Buck called for anything to eat or drink, while on watch, call him. So that night Buck called the wardroom
for some coffee and toast. The steward called the CO, in his sea cabin.
In order to get the
coffee, etc., Buck had to climb down out of the director on to the flying
bridge. When Buck got there, the
CO was waiting for him. He put
Buck under arrest for "abandoning his duty station". The CO blamed Gene and me for not
knowing that Buck had come out of the director. There was almost no way the bridge
watch to know when people went in and out of the director.
As the result Buck got 10
days "in hack". That meant Buck
had to spend the next 10 days in his room. The only time he could leave, was go
to the head, etc. He had to
take his meals in his room.
Everyone was forbidden to see, talk or otherwise associate with him
(like he had leprosy), unless it was on OFFICIAL BUSINESS. He couldn't go on watch, so others had
to fill in. He was the ship's
recognition officer. Since we all
knew we were going into combat soon, it was imperative to train our gun
crews. I had 4 - 20MM gun
crews that needed such training plus the 40mm director men. The CO wouldn't listen. Gene and I were at a loss how to
train the gun people. After
things quieted down, Gene was able to talk the CO into letting Buck give the
training in the mess hall. But
otherwise, Buck served out his sentence.
BIZERTE
After we had run aground,
and our engineering people had done all they could to fix the screw, the
Commodore still had to be concerned with our upcoming invasion. We didn't know where it would be. There were rumors, it would be
Greece. We all recalled
Churchill's idea to invade the Balkans (he called it the "soft under belly of
Europe"). We looked at the maps,
and hoped that rumor was going to be wrong.
One day the Commodore got
a top-secret msg- "Sicily-send an officer to the Army headquarters for a copy
of the OP-Order/plan." He
"elected" me. So I asked Buck, if
he'd like to come with me. He had
just recently come out of "hack", agreed. So we got our .45's, the ship's boat
and away we went.
When we were anchored, we
could see the terrible damage to all visible buildings. Once on the beach, the
extent of the damage was awful-what a mess. We found the Army headquarters,
fully expecting to pick up the OpOrders, etc. and get right back to the
ship. The orders weren't
ready. A whole tent full of Army
officers, from full Col to Captains, were frantically putting the pages
together. We offered to give them
a hand. Thanks, but no
thanks. We knew the Commodore was
expecting us right back to the ship and now a big delay and no way to get word
back.
Since we were going to
miss lunch-at least, we decided to look around. Everywhere there were signs of mine
fields. We wandered over to the
air field, that was just getting into operation. It was a mess-the runways full of bomb
holes. Scores of downed, burned
German planes were scattered all over the field. Watching out for the mines, we went
over to the planes. We were looking for souvenirs, but we
had no tools to take off any part of the planes. We did pick up some things we could
take easily. Several planes had
body parts still inside (i.e. blood, brains, hair, skin, etc.).
After several hours, we
walked back to the Army headquarters, the orders still not ready. So we waited some more. Finally they
were ready and we got the Op Order and took off. We had been gone almost all day, in
95+ degree heat, nothing to eat or drink. Never had the ship looked so
good. Needless to say the
Commodore wanted a full report.
----------------------
SICILY
Buck spent a lot of time
teaching plane and ship recognition to the lookouts, 20 and 40 MM gunners, as
well as director crews. The
officers got their education too.
Most of the time was spent on aircraft ID, both allied and axis. He always stressed the importance of
knowing our own. The words "P-40"
became the ship's "watch word."
It was the main US fighter in the area, along with the British Spitfire
and Hurricane. The US P-38 was
easy, as it had twin tail booms.
By the time we landed, all our people had the planes down pat. Unfortunately some of the other ships
on our beach head didn't do as well and they fired on our own planes.
-------------------------------
CROSSING THE EQUATOR
Before we left NYC to go
the SW Pacific, the CO bought Shell Back certificates for all hands. He gave the job and it was a job, of
hand writing each and every certificate, to Buck. Buck had fine handwriting-almost
Spencerian- and they all turned out just fine. I still have
mine.
------------------------------
JOHN E. "BULGY'
BAYUS
The "CHIEF" was a
unforgettable character. He was a
"mustang", an ex-enlisted man. He was much older than all the other officers,
including the CO. He was an "old
China hand" and a gruff "old sea
dog". But he had a heart of gold,
or something pretty close to that.
His bark and he had a lot of that, was a lot worse than his bite. At first, you had to keep your
distance, but in a few days, you could see his sterling character.
He had been "elected"
wardroom mess treasurer by the CO.
That was a thankless job, almost as bad as being laundry officer. He had to take the CO's complaints,
morning, noon and night, from everything, the linens weren't changed often
enough, he didn't like the steak-it was tough, and on and on. Why he put up with it, I'll never
know. I asked he why? "Someone has to do it. You guys don't have the b---s to do
it." He was probably
right.
He used to like to play
"Acey-Ducey" in the wardroom, after dinner. They never played long and the games
were quite subdued. However, the
CO took exception to the games, and forbade them. The CO, Dick Weiss, the XO, Doc
Stollman, and Paul Hursh used to play bridge almost nightly, whenever
possible. No other games were
allowed. So Bulgy decided that a
good crap game was in order. By
this time, I was rooming with him.
I had never shot craps and didn't have much of an idea how. Perhaps, he thought I would be an easy
"mark". I told him, I'd play for
20 minutes after I got off watch at 1600 and got cleaned up. That suited him, so the games
started. Pretty soon, he had most
of the officers playing. I was
very lucky and won a sizable number of paper clips (money), that was paid off
months later. Most of us played,
just to defy the CO. If he had
caught us, our names would have been "mud".
About the same time, the CO decided "no beards". As far as I remember no officer was
wearing one. So Bulgy started his
almost immediately. One by one
most of the others started theirs.
Dick Weiss grew a good one, so did John Abernethy. Sammy Samford's looked awful, as did
Sy and Henry's. I tried to grow
one, but not only did it look terrible, it made me feel like I needed a good
bath. So I gave it up, and took a
big razzing from Bulgy-all in
good clean fun.
When we got to the
Pacific, Commodore Greenacre, grew a huge red, bushy beard. That really got to the CO. But there was nothing he could do
about that beard!!
-----------------------------
MORE ON SHOOTING
CRAPS
When we had General
Krueger on board for the Hollandia Operation, he had a very senior Navy
Commander as his Naval Advisor.
The commander took my bunk, but I had to go to my room to get clean
clothes,etc. The first day, he
said "I hear you are pretty good a shooting craps." I didn't know anything about him and thought perhaps
he was a friend of the CO. I was
noncommittal, but he was persistant.
Finally I said OK- for 30 minutes after I get off watch at 1600. I gathered he thought he'd win some
money and make the trip worthwhile.
To make a long story short. I won $250 and he lost his desire to shoot
craps. He was a good loser and
made a big joke about it.
------------------------------
RICHARD " Dick" WEISS-----
XO
I had gone to Sound
School, Key West. Dick was the XO
on the NOA, an old 4 piper, one of the school ships. They had some others- 2 old Eagle
Boats, etc. I had gone out on all
the other ships, but the NOA was the cleanest and best and I did all I could
to go on the NOA. The CO let Dick
take her out every morning and bring her back alongside the dock in the
evening. Dick, as far as my
inexperienced eye could tell, was a good ship handler. At least he never creamed the
dock. On the WILKES, as long as I
was on board, he never got a chance to do any ships handling, i.e.. coming
alongside a dock, refueling, etc.
The CO did it all.
Dick's main job was to run
the ship's office, and do the administrative work of the ship. It must have been a very frustrating
job for him, but he never complained, at least not in my presence. The only chance he had to be creative,
was doing the NAVIGATION, after Ted Brooks was transferred. He did a fine job. We never got into any trouble, or even
any near trouble.
Whenever the weather and
work permitted, he liked to sun bathe on the flying bridge. Lots of privacy there and a chance to
catch up on some reading and relaxing.
Not much chance to do that in the North Atlantic, but he made up in the
tropics.
-----------------------------
TED
BROOKS
He was senior watch
officer and Navigator when I first came on board. He had a very even
temperament. I stood a few JOOD
watches with him and he was a good instructor. The one watch that stood out--we had
just left a large troop ship convoy off at the CZ and we left the CZ early in
the morning. There were 16
cans--2 full squadrons. Our
Squad-Dog wasn't senior. We were
the 4th can from the left end of the formation-all cans in a line of bearing,
speed 25 kts. It was an
impressive sight. The weather was
warm, but we were all headed into extremely heavy ground swells. We had the 0800-1200 watch and before
we had gone much beyond 0900, the swells got worse. We were getting green water over the
bridge. In fact we were getting
white water over the director. We
all had rain gear on, but in a few minutes we were soaked to the skin. Since the CO's rule- watch officers
couldn't go into the pilot house, we had to stay out and take the
beating. After we had been wet
through and through, Ted decided he and I would strip down to our shorts. He had put the lookouts inside, when
things first got bad, but we stayed outside. I had the conn. Keeping on station was a bit tricky,
at that high speed and heavy seas. I was continuously using the stadimeter and
taking bearings on the guide.
The ship was laboring
badly, so pretty soon the CO came
up to the bridge to see what was going on. He took one look at us in our shorts,
and bellowed "What is going on around here?" Ted tried to explain, but the CO
wasn't buying. Just then we took
a huge roller and water cascaded over the bridge, into the pilot house. The CO took a big jump into his chair
to keep from getting soaked.
Nothing more said about the shorts.
The ship took a very bad
beating that day. We split a few
welds and water got into the upper handling room of gun #2. Also we had water in the officer's
rooms and wardroom--what a mess.
When we got to Norfolk, we had to go into the Yard for a couple of days
to get repaired. So what we
gained by hi-speed, we lost in repair time.
The water ruined our
binoculars, which were in short supply.
That made the quartermasters very unhappy. Until we got replacements, they were
grousing about officers, who don't take care of "our" binoculars, making sure
Ted and I heard them.
-----------------------------
F. E.
SOMERS
"Gene" was our "Gun Boss",
the most important man, when things got rough. He and I became good
friends. When I first arrived on
the ship. The CO interviewed
me. I had gone to various gunnery
schools and had hoped to get a job in the gunnery dept. He asked me the "fatal question",
could I type? I said I
could type some. He said he
didn't have any openings in gunnery, but needed someone in
communications. I had never heard
of communications- could hardly spell it. That was the "bad news", but he had
some "good news"- the 20MM and 40MM guns needed some attention, so the AA
batteries would be my GQ station.
So that was how I got well acquainted with Gene.
He also gave me 2 very
good young gunners mates-1 for the 40's and the other for the 20's. Ken Morrel was the one on the 40's,
but after all these years, can't recall the 20's one. The 40MM were excellent guns, well
made and more importantly, well designed. They were the replacement for the 1.1
(the Chicago Piano), which were a disaster. With Ken and good guns, they were no
problem. The problem was with the
20MM. They were the bane of
everyone's existence. They were
very poorly designed and poorly built.
The gun crews were a fine bunch of men and they did their jobs. Eventually we got the 20MM working, as
best they could perform.
Gene had his 5' 38 gun
crews in top notch condition.
They used to practice an hour a day, each crew, weather permitting, on
the loading machine. When we
practiced in Casco Bay or in the Chesapeake, we always shot down the towed
sleeves and hit the sleds. In
combat we also hit what we aimed at.
I also stood JOOD watches
with Gene (usually the mid-watch).
He was a good and patient teacher. He let me have the conn most of the
time. I'm sure, I caused him to
lose a few nights sleep. I
learned a lot.
------------------------------
"DOC"
STOLLMAN
As far as I could see, he
usually didn't have much to do.
However having him on board, did a lot for the peace of mind of the
crew. If you got sick or hurt,
Doc and his boys would fix you up quick-no charge. In a convoy in the North Atlantic, one
of the other escorts had a medical emergency. The Commodore decided that Doc should
be hi-lined over to the other can, to help their MD. Everyone kidded him, about how we were
going to "dunk" him. Of course we
were just kidding, but with 2 ships going side-by-side, you never could
tell. Fortunately the weather
held and we got him over in good shape.
However, by the time the operation was over, the weather had turned
bad, and we had a hard time getting him back safe and dry. Stout
fellow!!!!!
Thanksgiving Day 1943 (who
could forget Turkey Day), Dave Conway, my SK 2/c came down with acute
appendicitis. Doc decided he had
to operate that day, at 1300.
The wardroom table was the "theater of operations." We were leading the convoy. The Commodore gave his OK for us to
pull out of the screen and try to steer the smoothest course possible. I was the OOD and I tried my best, but
the North Atlantic didn't want to cooperate. Actually we did OK., but with every
roll and there were a lot of them, we felt for Doc and his team. Several of the officers, helped - Paul
Hursh and Cline. I'd rather
be the OOD. At any rate, the
operation was a success and in due time, Dave was back on his feet. Our turkey dinner was a bit late, the
wardroom smelled of ether for awhile, but all felt relieved that the surgery
was a success, a job well
done. (Tare Victor George).
-----------------------
COMMODORE
HUBER
This is a second hand
story, told to me by Frank Samford, our Comm Officer at the time. One day, we were moored at the NOB,
Norfolk, the Commodore asked Frank, if he would accompany him to the Flagship
of the CinC, Atlantic Fleet. The
Commodore wanted to see the Admiral, so he and Sammy walked over to the
flagship and up to the Admiral's office.
A "bright young" Captain, in a spotless blue uniform and 4 bright
stripes greeted them and asked if he could help. He was in contrast to the Commodore in
his rather worn 3 stripes, and a
rather grizzled old "sea dog" look.
The Commodore said he would like to see the Admiral. The Captain asked what was the nature
of his visit? The Commodore said "Tell the Admiral, Vern Huber
would like to see him." That wasn't good enough for the Captain, so he said
the Admiral was busy and didn't take kindly to stray officers showing up,
wanting to see him. The Commodore
just repeated what he had said, but a bit more forcefully. With a sigh, the 4 stripper said OK,
he'd check with the Admiral.
In a moment, the Admiral
came bounding out of his office, booming "Vern, How the H--- are you? It's sure good to see you again. How's
your family?" He grabbed the
Commodore's shoulder and they walked into the inner
sanctum.
Sammy said it was worth a
month's pay to see the look on the 4 striper's face Sammy waited for the Commodore to
finish seeing the Admiral and they then walked back to the ship. Sammy said the Commodore had a good
chuckle over the episode.
------------------------
BUYING A NEW
UNIFORM
In mid 1943, the Navy OK'd
a new "working" uniform for officers. It was a gray color and the rumor, it
was going to replace the khaki, that had been the standard for years. So I decided to buy one. I looked around and couldn't find
anything that fit properly. My
parents suggested looking at Saks, 5th Ave., NYC. Apparently Saks just
started to carry uniforms, "doing their part in the war effort." So one rainy afternoon, going on
liberty, I stopped by their store on Fifth Ave. I was pleasantly surprised to find one
that fit me and bought it. They
were going to make the necessary alterations and I'd pick it up in a few
days. So I started leave the
store. I had my raincoat on and a
rain cover over my cap. It was
really raining and I paused a minute to decide what was the best way to stay
dry. An elderly lady came up to
me and asked if I was "Mrs. ------'s chauffeur? And if I was, would I be so
kind, to bring the car around and take her home." I told her I wasn't a chauffeur. She looked quite disappointed and
walked away mumbling "how hard it was to get good help these days."
------------------------
SANDS
STREET--BROOKLYN
No recollections of NYC
would be complete without mentioning Sands Street. It was the street right outside of the
Brooklyn Navy Yard and the very first place, men on liberty/leave hit when
they left the ship. Unfortunately
many never got beyond it. It was
lined with cheap bars, liquor stores, expensive tattoo parlors, uniform shops,
and "Battleship Max Cohen's" uniform store. This store was a legend. Many generations of Navy men got their "tailor mades" from
Battleship's store. I brought
some khaki uniform pants -size
28" waist-just imagine-the only place on the East coast that carried that size
and they wore like iron. He had
the basement full of young ladies working on making uniforms to order--both
enlisted and officer. Since ships
were only in the Yard for a few days, they had to make them fast and
good.
-------------------------
MEMORABLE
WATCHES
My first full day on
board, we went from Norfolk to NY.
We hit the swept channel in NY at 0800. It was so foggy, you could hardly see
the jack, we were going 25 kts, I was JOOD. I didn't know beans. The CO wanted to get in the Yard
before 1200, so he was in a rush.
The XO gave me the job of looking out for the numbered buoys on the
starboard side, and call them off to him, as well as keep a lookout for any
other ships, etc. I had never
done anything like that before, but knew that NY harbor was full of ships
coming, going and anchored. My
heart was in my throat. Believe
it or not I didn't miss a buoy, we didn't hit anything-or even come close and
the CO made it off the ship before noon.
-------------------------
We were convoying from
Norfolk to Gib and the Commodore was TF Commander. We were the lead can. I was the OOD on the 12-1600
watch. The weather was excellent,
fairly warm, clear, with a long deep swell. The starboard lookout spotted a
floating mine. I called the CO
and he came to the bridge. I
showed it to him. It was sure a
big ugly thing-covered with sea growth and barnacles, with rather large
"horns" all around. I had the
Conn and he told me to come right and to get the 40 and 20MM duty crews to
fire on it. We were perhaps 100
yards from it by this time, going slow.
Of course, we warned the other ships of the problem and told them to
stay clear. The CO said: "We are
going to do, like they do in the movies, explode it." So we opened fire. The shells hit the mine, but it didn't
explode. The CO said: "Go in
closer". I pointed out we are
pretty darn close and if it goes up,
BANG. The CO got angry at
the gun crews, telling them they couldn't hit anything. So we fired some more-no luck. The problem was, the ship and mine
were both rolling in the sea. By
this time, all hands were up on deck, looking to see what all the fuss was
about. The CO, kept saying "Go
closer"!!! Finally we were so
close that he and I had to lean over the splinter shield to see the mine. The 40's and 20's were firing all
along. Just then the mine
exploded with a roar. The CO and
I were blown, together, right into the pilot house. That was no mean trick, as the hatch
was barely wide enough for 1 person to go through. Pieces of the mine flew up on the
decks. Luckily, no one was
hurt. So much for doing it like
in "Hollywood."
-------------------------
We were on our way back to
the States. We had been in Gib
over night, and we were just West of the entrance to the Med, forming up a
convoy to the States. The
Commodore was the TF Commander, so we were doing all the work. We had "word" that German subs were
nearby, so the shore people sent out an ASW patrol plane to help. It was a Navy, "Ventura" PV-1. When it came over head, I had the
radioman try to contact it on the usual frequencies-no luck. We kept trying, still no
luck. I had our CIC and director
track the plane. It was good
practice for them. After a few
passes over and around the convoy, it headed away. All of a sudden, I saw it drop its
bomb/depth charges. I thought it
might have spotted a sub. So I
called the CO and told him. By
this time, the plane was pretty low and in a couple of seconds, it hit the
water. I had CIC and director
mark the range and bearing, etc. and I took a bearing as well. I ordered the helmsman to come to that
bearing and increased speed to 25 kts.
By this time the CO was on the bridge and I filled him in.
In 15-20 minutes, we were alongside the 5
men in the water, made a lea, put the boat in the water and picked them
up. All were safe, but wet. The Doc gave them a quick going over,
no problems. We gave them some
food and dry clothes. We notified
the beach and they sent a fast boat out for them. The fliers were none too happy. They would have preferred to go back
to the States with us. They said
that it was the first time, after ditching, all the air crew survived, for
which they were all very grateful.
We were happy to be able to rescue them promptly. It was a fine example of good
coordination between the bridge, CIC and gunnery. Also, the ship's boat crew did a fine
quick job.
The CO got a nice msg of
congratulation from Commander Moroccan Sea Frontier.
----------------------
It must been late November
1943, we were going to form up a convoy from Casablanca. We got underway quite early and it was
a beautiful clear day, sea flat.
As usual the Commodore was the Boss, and we had to do most of the work
in forming up the convoy. We were
leading the ships out through the swept channel, still at Special Sea Detail,
going about 15 kts. I was OOD
with the conn. The CO wasn't
paying any attention and the XO was piloting, giving me course
changes,etc.
Everyone was admiring the
fine day and glad to be headed home. I was standing on the starboard
side of the bridge. All of a
sudden there was a terrific blast from portside aft. I rushed through the pilot house to
see what had happened. I saw a
300 lb depth charge, with part of the "K" gun attached, arching through the
air and splash in the water. This
charged up the CO and he jumped all over me-blaming me for the incident and
wanting to know what had happened.
I told him," beats me.
I'll find out, if you relieve me of the conn."
It turned out that one of
the torpedo mates was working on the port "K" gun and had taken the protective
metal cap off of the firing pin.
He got called away and didn't replace the cap. One of the deck Division men, was
swabbing the after deck house-finished and threw the swab, handle first, down
on the main deck. The handle hit
the firing pin and away went the "K" gun and depth charge. You couldn't duplicate that feat in a
100 years.
Well, needless to say the
CO wasn't a bit pleased. Since as
OOD, I was in charge, he held me responsible, even though no one asked my OK
to work on the "K" gun, which would have been normal procedure. What upset the CO the most, we had to
send a dispatch to the local Commander, telling him about the unexploded depth
charge and its exact location.
-----------------------
On one of our convoy trip
to North Africa, the CO decided to do some extra gunnery training. I don't recall any of the other
escorts, doing as much training as we did. Training is fine, as it keeps the gun
crews on their toes. The CO told
me he was going to have the duty 40 and 20MM guns do some firing and I was to
control them.
The gunnery duty officer
in the director was going to fire gun #2, when our patrolling course made it
safe to do so. We waited and
suddenly gun 2 fired-almost directly over the ship. Our 40 and 20MM guns opened up on the
shell burst (practice against dive bombers). I was standing behind the port forward
20MM gun with head phones on.
David O."Johnnie" Johnson was observing the activities from the bridge,
directly above us. After we
secured from the drills, Johnnie came down and said he thought something fell
down behind me. We looked around,
there were some rope fenders along the bulkhead. We turned them over, and
there was a piece of the 5" shell, about the size of the palm of my hand lying
there. It was still warm. He picked it up and took it as a
souvenir. It fell about 3 feet
behind where I had been standing-close call.
-----------------------
On one of our east bound
convoys,the weather was lousy-rainy and stormy. We had word that German subs were up
ahead and we went out on our 25 mile sweep, at the dusk GQ. I was OOD, with the Conn. The CO wasn't on the bridge. All of a sudden, the lookout spotted
what looked like a periscope, about 1500 yards almost dead ahead. It even looked like it had a
wake. I immediately rang up 25
kts, headed right for the object. I called the CO and he came up to the
bridge. I was fully prepared to ram the "sub", as we had been fitted with a
ram bow-a heavily reinforced and sharp steel bow piece. I figured it would be
a sure Navy Cross for him-something he often yearned for - if we got a
sub.
As we steamed up to the
object, we saw it was a loose buoy, in the middle of the ocean. We were hoping for some real
excitement. We sank it with 20MM
fire. Everyone on the bridge was
greatly disappointed.
-------------------------
We were anchored in an
advance area in the Med and the watch passed the word another can was coming
alongside and for the line handlers, etc to report to their stations. I was in charge of the mid-ship
detail, ably assisted by Roy Bean (he did all the work). We got our fenders out and got ready
to receive the heaving lines. We
saw an older can coming alongside like a "bat out of H--". We took one look
and decided, we'd better get extra fenders out. So Bean got a couple of seamen to rush
more fenders over the side. We
fully expected the can to really "cream" us. We could see a very young looking
Lt-Cdr leaning over the wing of the bridge, watching closely. At the very last minute, he backed
down and his ship nestled alongside the "W". An egg wouldn't have broken.
Later I went up the our
bridge and had a chat with the bridge watch on the other can. I remarked, we thought we were going
to get hit when they came alongside.
They said the CO had recently taken over and he was a fine ship
handler. We all had a good
chuckle. I hope their CO survived
the war and made Admiral. The ‘’can’’ was the MUSTIN.
-------------------------
On our very last Westbound
convoy in Dec 1943, we had about 90+ ships-mostly empty. Everyone from
Commodore to the newest recruit, was hoping to get home for Christmas. Part way back, we learned that we were
headed to the Pacific, although that wasn't general knowledge. We got about 2/3 the way home, and the
weather turned very bad. One
evening, I was OOD at the dusk GQ and we had gone out 25 miles ahead of the
convoy, on our usual sweep. We
all noticed that the sea was getting rougher by the minute, the wind was
increasing and the barometer was failing fast. We got back on station and the CO, XO,
Commodore and I were discussing the weather. No one seemed to be concerned. Who
ever heard of a hurricane in December?
No one even thought about it. They all had a lot more sea-going
experience than I. I got relieved
and went below.
Since I had the mid-watch,
and had some dispatches to decode, I didn't tarry on the bridge. Henry Mobley had the 2000-2400
watch. By the time I got in the
sack, it was probably about 2130 and the ship was really struggling. Since I had the upper bunk, I thought
it wise to tie myself in. About
2330 (just an estimate), the ship took a huge roll to port and then a roll to
starboard. Everything in the
wardroom crashed to the deck and smashed. I was thrown out of the bunk, onto the
deck. All the staterooms were in
shambles. The ship continued to
gyrate. Since it was almost time
for me to relieve Henry, I decided to stay up and pick up the stuff all over
the deck in our room. About 2345
I went up to the bridge to relieve him.
The first thing I asked, what happened? He just pointed to the
inclinometer on the aft bulkhead of the pilot house. It showed 52 degrees to port and 35
degrees to starboard. He said
that was the roll that caused all the damage. By this time, the SG repeater showed
most of the escorts and convoy had pretty well scattered-every man for
themselves.
None of the OOD's had any
experience in such heavy weather and no one came to help out that night. The seas were absolutely mountainous
and the wind 100+ mph (the anemometer blew away at 100 kts). Standing on the bridge you had to look
up at the tops of the waves. We
all labored through that storm for the next 3 days. The crew aft, couldn't come forward
for chow. The engine and fire
room watches had to stay put.
There was green water over the bridge, even though we had cut our speed
to zero-steering way only, just heading into the seas and wind. The XO said we made 8 miles good in
72+ hours. That must be some sort
of a record.
At any rate, what Henry
and I did, turned out, by dumb luck, the proper thing to do. The Commodore was put out that Henry
and I hadn't informed him of the break up of the convoy. He must have been a heavy
sleeper. After the storm passed,
it took us 2 days to get every last ship and escort back together. Then away we went again for NY. We made it on Christmas
Day.
(Editor Note: Captain C. Raymond Calhoun in his fine
book "Typhoon: The Other Enemy", states that in the typhoon in Dec 1944 with
TF 38, his can, the DEWEY rolled 70 degrees and survived; HULL -70
degrees-capsized; ALYWIN 70- degrees - survived; HICKOX- (DD 673), a
Fletcher-70 degrees-survived. The
SPENCE (DD 512), a Fletcher, rolled 50 degrees and capsized; MONAGHAN
-capsized. So when we rolled 52
degrees, we were in the danger zone. Our class had stability problems similar
to the FARRAGUT'S.)
------------------------
Since the CO demanded all
OOD and JOOD's stand on the wings of the bridge, you got mighty cold in bad
winter weather, especially at night.
What the well dressed OOD wore--as follows: Long handle underwear -top and bottoms - for starters. Then a pair of wool pants (old dress
blues would do), a wool CPO shirt, at least 2 heavy wool sweaters, then fleece
lined waterproof coat, then a light weight waterproof coat, with hood and
waterproof pants. On the head-a
wool watch cap, with ear flaps and sometimes a face mask. On the hands- wool gloves, under
leather mittens. On the feet--2
pairs of wool socks, shoes plus overshoes, and around the neck a wool
scarf. You were still cold.
-----------------------
JOHN F. ABENATHY,
JR
Before we got our new CIC,
after we got back from Sicily, the radar equipment was in back of the pilot
house, near the chart room-everything quite crowded. We didn't have any officer really
trained in radar/ CIC work. We
all just sort of learned as we went along and pitched in when needed. John finally caught up with us in
Oran, Algeria about July 27, 1943.
When he got on board, he was tired, dirty and mighty glad to see
us. He had been chasing us for
over a month, all across North Africa. He got on board, just in time for us to
take him back to the States. He
did relate all the adventures he had, and said the Atlas Mountains were
absolutely beautiful, if you can appreciate beauty bouncing in the rear of an
Army truck, going across the desert.
After we got our new CIC
in the Brooklyn Navy Yard, he was
proud of our new equipment, which was a huge improvement over the old
setup.
BILL MOSHER--Comm
Officer
=======================
SPARE
GUN
As with other rates on the
"W" getting spare parts, specially in the combat areas, was a problem. So we, when we could and had the
chance, stock piled spare gun parts.
I was the gunners mate in charge of the 20MM guns. These guns were problems and with
heavy firing ran through spare parts quickly. We had to change the barrels after
firing 8-9 magazines, so extra barrels were a "must item." One day, in the New Guinea area, we
were firing an enemy planes. Gun
21(forward 20MM, starboard side) broke down. I reported this to the bridge on the
sound powered phone. I got the OK to "fix it quickly." I had an extra 20MM gun below in the
magazine. I ran down and got the
spare gun and quickly mounted it.
In a few minutes I reported the gun back in service. Later the CO wanted to know how
I got the gun fixed so quickly. I
confessed I had a spare gun on board.
After we secured from GQ, I was able to repair the original gun and
then it became the "spare."
Ray Kranefuss GM
2/c
=================
HARD
DUTY
When I was in the "boots",
the Chief asked, "Who wants to be a fireman?" I figured I would be stationed on the
beach and maybe drive a truck.
What a big surprise, I got when an officer said "repair to the machine
shop." Bingo, I was en route to
where they burn fuel oil and make steam.
After about 2 years of
washing dirty clothes, I asked CMM Charlie Miller to get me in the engine
room. The difference was like
night and day. I was stationed on
the lower level and my big job was to keep everything running. When depth charges were dropped,
out would go my electrical pumps and the alarms would go
off.
About this time, my battle
station was changed to the 20MM guns, and I trained on them. I had 5 stewards mates in my
crew. They didn't flinch a bit
and they liked to fire their weapons
We had a nice young fellow
on the ship, C. C. Morse, who was
on board, when we went aground in Newfoundland. He used to call me at 0500 on every
Feb 17 and make me stand at attention, in remembrance of those lost
there. After the war, he stopped
by my home, with his Dad. We also
visited him, at his farm, which was about 12 miles out in the country. Unfortunately he passed away at an
early age.
Ed
Palchak
=================
MORE ON
"GYRO"
After we got back into
Seattle for repairs in Dec 1944, the local paper ran a story on "gyro". In part, it read: "Torpedo gang adopts young lady. Who ever heard of a young girl
shipping out on a Navy destroyer?
Well, you couldn't get Gyro away from her "tin can". You would be up against a rugged
ship's complement if you tried.
When first sighted, Gyro was a small splashing object in New Guinea
waters, but recently taken from the Japs. Eager hands brought her aboard and
dried her off. Immediately, she
was adopted by the torpedo gang... Torpedoman John Mikolasik, Detroit and
Anthony Vinci, NYC, leading spirits of same, christened her Gyro--for the
gyroscope in the steering apparatus of a torpedo. The boys are certain she belonged to
Japanese before she "left home'' to join the U.S. Navy.
She shows her own fighting
spirit, when the ship is in port.
Gyro stands for no intrusion of her domain. She drives visiting dogs back down the
gangplank and, when left aboard when "her boy friends" are ashore, she barks and bares her teeth at all
boarders not officers or crew members of her ship. Although Gyro had many
predecessors as mascots of her destroyer--- dogs, a monkey, a rooster, a
parrot and 2 cats--there will be no other pet, while she is
aboard."
There are several photos
of her with some crew members, her alone on the bridge,etc.
------------------------
THE REAL GYRO
(COMPASS-THAT IS)
As the gyrocompass
technician and EM 1/c, when the Captain said "Heading 073", I knew, as did all
hands, he had full confidence in the gyrocompass on the ship. The "gyro" is a true directional
indicator used on all Navy and most merchant ships. The CO, XO, OOD, gunnery people, CIC,
Navigator, among others, depended on the compass repeaters and related
equipment to show accurately the true and correct heading of the ship. It was
one of the most useful navigational aids, as it provided a TRUE NORTH reading,
regardless of any rolling, pitching or yawing of the ship. It was also entirely unaffected by any
of the disturbances, which commonly affect the magnetic
compass.
The "gyro" was installed
below deck, in a protected inside compartment and its reading was relayed around the
ship to operate ancillary equipment, such as, steering and bearing recorders,
course recorder (DRT), gun stabilizers and plot, radar and sonar
equipment. A similar "gyro" was
used to stabilize the equipment in the vertical plane.
The "gyro" is truly a
remarkable instrument, as it is controlled in such a way that its spin axis is
made to seek and maintain alignment with the geographic meridian (N-S
line). This is done by combining
the characteristics of inertia and precession, the earth's rotation and
gravity. The result is a
"space-stable'' element. Our
"gyro" was so well built, it could and did operate continuously for a year,
with little maintenance. In the
entire system, the ancillary equipment required the most work. Every one had great confidence in its
accuracy and reliability.
As "gyro" Technician, my
job was to keep the "gyro" and related equipment working properly. However problems did occur. I recall one such incident in S/W
Pac. It was about midnight and I
was asleep, when I was awaken and the messenger told me the DRT wasn't working
properly and the Captain wanted it fixed. The DRT was an important piece of
equipment, which traced the exact course of the ship on a sheet of paper. This would allow the CO or Navigator
to have the ship cross the same point in the sea, more than once.
I observed the "gyro" and
it was working fine. I told the
CO, it was fine and turned in again.
No sooner had I gotten back to sleep and another call from the
bridge. When I got to the "gyro"
it was working fine. However this
time, I decided to watch it closely to see if it malfunctioned. Sure enough it did. By this time the CO was very concerned
and was hovering over me, down in the gyro room, as I was working. He wanted to know "When was it going
to be fixed???" He asked this
question several times. I finally
said "It will only take me five or ten minutes to fix it." He said "Very good." Then I told him, I didn't know how
long it would take me to find out what was wrong with it. It sort of slipped out and I figured I
might be doing some extra duty for that remark. There was a long minute of silence and
he said "Call me as soon as you get it fixed." He then left for the bridge, without
saying anything more. It turned out to be a minor problem. I got it repaired soon and
phoned the bridge to report the problem fixed. I always had a lot of respect for that
skipper. I always felt the
responsibility for the gyro compass and related equipment was as important as
any job on the "W". I know each
and every crew member felt the same.
That is what made the Mighty "W" ---a great ship.
FLOREN V. JAMES--EM
1/c
====================
RECOLLECTIONS OF AN
ELECTRICIAN
The grounding in
Newfoundland was an unique and profound experience, that affected the whole
crew. I had just gotten off watch
in the forward engine room and was headed to my bunk to get some much needed
sleep. Half way down the ladder
to my aft crews quarters, the ship shook, shuddered and came to a stop. I hung on to the ladder for al moment
and then bounded up to the main deck.
My first thought, we had been torpedoed, then I saw the cliffs illuminated by
our search lights. The CO had
turned on the searchlight in a vain attempt to warn the POLLUX and
TRUXTON. Unfortunately they were
already aground.
-----------------------
It seemed that there was a
never ending jobs in repairing the ship.
I had the job of repairing
a cable in the compartment under the CO's private lavatory. I had to drill a hole in the steel
overhead for a screw to hold a bracket for the cable. I drilled away and the drill broke
through the steel and the bit right into the heel of the CO's shoe. He was shaving at the time. Fortunately it just damaged the
shoe. Captain Wolsieffer called
me to his stateroom and read me the "riot act". Oh well, what the H---, there wasn't
any blood.
------------------------
The compartment, on the
main deck, where we stored our movie film, was not properly secured. We got into one of the typical North
Atlantic storms, with very rough seas.
Unfortunately sea water got into the compartment and every can of film
was thoroughly soaked. To
compound the problem, we had twice the usual number of films on board. We took the wet film and tried
to dry it in the electrical shop.
We had thousands of feet of film draped every which way. It was quite a sight. Unfortunately the salt water ruined
the film. We were in a quandary,
what to do. We decided to put the
film back on the reels and into the cans. Then turn them in at our next
port. I'm sure the next ship that
got the films was a bit unhappy.
I'm sure we weren't the first to do that.
------------------------
When we were in the North
Atlantic, we often got a few days availability in the Brooklyn Navy Yard, for
minor repairs. We lived on the
ship and a curfew (2100) was imposed on the use of air hammers. There was one shipyard worker, who
wouldn't stop using his air hammer at that time. Several times, we spoke to him about
it. He wouldn't listen and
continued to make a huge racket after 2100. One night, he took his midnight
break. When he came back, he
found his air hose cut in a dozen pieces. He was afraid he would have to pay for
the hose. Sorry!!! Now it was quiet and we all could get
some sleep. We had to be rested
for liberty the next day...
-------------------------
I recall George Piti,
electrician mate third class, returning from liberty at either Casablanca or
Oran in North Africa. He was
slightly "under the weather" and was carrying a goat skin and some other
souvenirs. We poured him into his
bunk and then decided to pull a prank.
We soaked his goat skin in a pail of red dye and hung it in the engine
room to dry. The next day, George
kept repeating: "Why did I buy a goat skin, especially a red
one???"
We were anchored in Guam,
when the base hospital asked all ships present, if they had a certain type of
electric motor. They had
urgent need for this motor to run
some of their important equipment.
We looked around the ship and found we had a motor, which was similar
and might work for them. We
lowered our motor whale boat, loaded the motor in it, and we headed towards a
rickety wooden dock, where we tied up.
A jeep and a couple of army or marine men were waiting for us. We climbed into the jeep and drove
about 10 miles down the beach to the hospital. While our motor was somewhat
different, we hooked it up and it worked just fine. The hospital people were very
happy. So we climbed back into
the jeep to head back to our boat.
Before we left, I noticed
the back seat was loaded with plantains (large bananas). As we started up, the driver started
to swear a blue streak. I asked
him, what was the problem? He
pointed to several new holes in the canopy and said the Jap snipers in the
hills were firing at us. He
seemed to be more concerned about the plantains than our safely. On the way, the GI told me our driver
was a Chaplain. Any rate, we made
it back safely to our boat. I was
surely glad to get back to the ship.
------------------------
One of the items on our
electrical supply inventory was a 5 gal can of pure alcohol. It was used for maintaining the gyro
compass. Somehow we got an
extra 5 gals on board.
Word that we had this extra alcohol got around. A Chief Warrant officer from one of
the repair ships, that fixed us up, offered us a deal. One pint of alcohol for a new
carbine. Needless to say, we had
quite a few carbines on board. We
had a few good parties too.
Alcohol cut with some orange or grapefruit juice wasn't bad.
-----------------------
I was promoted to Warrant
Officer -Electrician, from CEM. As we were short of deck watch standers, I was
standing JOOD watches on the bridge.
One night I was JOOD and was given the Conn. We were in formation, screening the
carriers, zigzagging. Suddenly, a
monstrous object appeared in our path. We were in the right spot, but they
weren't. However, they were huge,
we rather small in comparison.
Somehow the carrier, I think it was the SARATOGA, got off course. Fortunately the CO was sitting in his
chair on the bridge and immediately took over, giving orders to the helmsman,
and engine room. We missed. After things settled down to normal, I
thought I would be relieved of bridge duties. Nothing was ever said and I continued
as a watch officer, until I was transferred to Officer's Indoctrination
School, as an Ensign. Once again
I thank, God for the CO. If
it wasn't for him, I would have been "infamous".
-------------------------
While we were operating
with the fast carrier Task Groups, we were attacked by a Jap Zero. He dropped his bomb very near
us-missed and then flew right over the bridge, about 50 feet high. I was on the bridge and could plainly
see the markings on the plane and the pilot. It looked like he either waved or
thumbed his nose at us. Thank God
this was before the days of the Kamikaze. Before he got very far, one of our CAP
splashed him.
ANTHONY LAWRENCE
--CEM--WO-Electrician--Ensign--
(Plank-0wner)
(Editor's Note: Tony came on board 4/21/41, as a EM
2/c. a Plank Owner. He was
promoted to Chief Electrican Mate, then appointed Warrant Officer, later
Ensign. This was a signal
accomplishment and well deserved).
===========================
MORE TALES FROM THE
ENGINEERING DEPT
Early in the ship's
career, we were standing 4 hours on and 4 off, we had 3 CMM and they stood 4
on and 8 off in the controlling engine room (forward engine room). CMM Elzier had the oncoming
watch. It was the engine room
messenger's duty to call the relieving watch. However, Bosco told the messenger to
watch the throttles and he would call the watch. Elzier slept in the chief's quarters
when the sea was calm. Now Elzier
had a habit of blowing his false teeth out while was sleeping, and they
usually landed on his stomach.
When he called Elzier, Bosco found the teeth and put them on the top of
his locker, woke Elzier and left.
Elzier, now wide awake, missed his teeth. He was very short and couldn't see
anything on top of his locker. He
didn't find his teeth for a week.
He was a real chow hound but he drank soup all that week. He threatened, begged and growled all
week, but no one knew anything about his missing teeth. A week later Bosco called the watch
again and Elzier "found" his teeth.
------------------------
FIRE IN THE
ENGINEROOM
I was in the forward
engine room, and all the guns were firing. We were getting a lot of speed
changes, coming so fast and close together, that the messenger, Steve O'Keefe,
was logging them down. C.P.
Miller was chief of the watch and Nate Ashbacker was on the upper level. I was on the throttles. I don't remember what broke lose, our
own gun fire or their near misses, but a fire broke out behind the
throttles. I grabbed the fire
extinguisher and directed it at the fire. The electric charge came back at me
and knocked me down. C.P. Miller
seeing what happened was careful to only take hold of the wooden handle. He got the fire out. Ashbacker went in behind the throttle
board to survey the damage and make repairs. Another big bang and fire broke out
again. Nate got his feet burned
before he could get in the clear.
We got the fire out and repairs made. Doc got Nate healed up in time for our
next liberty.
-----------------------
TEMPERAMENTAL
EVAPS
Our evaporators were very
temperamental. We did not take
the evaporators out of operation while we were at sea, unless we had no other
choice. We either got a near miss
or some heavy concussion {depth charges}, knocked out the "evaps". They started putting out water
with high salt content, too much even for drinking water. We had to shift to bilge and shut down
the "evaps" for repairs.
----------------------
SALTY WATER FOR OLD
SALTS
While we were in the South
Pacific, Doctor Stollman, asked me to add a little salt to the drinking
water. He feared the crew was not
taking enough salt tablets, with all the high heat and sun. I tried to explain to the Doctor, that
it was out of the question. The
plant was designed to produce "fresh" water". He asked again and I gave the same
explanation. The evaporators were
the most contrary and hard to handle (operate) piece of machinery on the
ship. I guess the Doc gave up on
me and he asked Bill Hawkins the same question. Now, Bill saw things a little
different than I. He thought
"give him what he wants." Bill
checked the fresh water tanks and found one was low and soon it would need to
be refilled. He pumped a little
salt water, right from the sea, into that fresh water tank that we were
using. In just a few minutes, the
phone rang (I was on watch). The
Doc asked: "Have you had a drink of water from the scuttle butts
lately?". I said: "no." He said: "I have and we can't have
that, just too salty, forget about putting salt in the drinking
water."
----------------------
ONE TOO MANY ON
LIBERTY
We had 3 CPO's in the
engineering dept., 1 in each engine room and the Aux Div. Bayus was the Chief Engineer. I was the MM l/c in the Aux Div. Each Chief ran his own liberty for his
dept. There were 10 in the A Div, 3 in each section and me in the liberty
section. One section would have
the duty, 3 men. 6 men and I
would have liberty. I allowed 2
of the 3 duty men to request special liberty. I'd sign the request, so we'd have one
man on board in the "A" Div. This
worked out very well, we enjoyed all the liberty I could manage. However, one night Werner Friedrichs,
who was the last man on board in the "A" Div, decided to go ashore and see his
wife. He made out a special
liberty chit, took it to Rusty Miller, Asst Engineering Officer, who was the
OOD. Rusty signed it, not
knowing he was letting the last "A" Div man on duty off the ship.
The trouble started when
Mr. Weiss, the XO and Mr. Bayus returned to the ship for gasoline. Mr. Weiss had a car and he needed
gas. During the war, gas was
strictly rationed. We always kept
a 50 gal drum of gas on deck, each time we were in port (for the ship's
boat). Bayus called for the "A"
Div man to put gas in the XO's car.
No show!!
Bayus ended up putting the
gas in the car. I don't know what
Bayus said to Rusty and I don't want to know, but the next morning Bayus laid
me out in "clover." Friedrichs
never asked for special liberty again.
-----------------------
SHORE
PATROL
Before and in the early
stages of the war, all ships in
port, were required to send men ashore as Shore Patrol. They had to report to the local police
station or to the shore patrol officer.
Only petty officers were qualified. My turn came a few times. Mr. Bayus sent Welbourn, another MM
2/c and me ashore at 1300, with orders to report to the police station at
1600, for shore patrol duty. Now,
this was a undesirable job, you were supposed to run sailors in, for doing
about what you had done the night before.
Well, we stopped at a
local bar on our way to the police station, for a drink and a little something
to eat (shore food always tasted better than shipboard fare}. Time kind of got away from us. This place was one of the favorite
watering hole for the engineering gang. Some of the gang came in and we
just kind of forgot the time. The
next morning, Mr. Bayus had the word passed for us to report to the machine
shop. He wanted our shore patrol
gear to give to the next men going on duty that day. We had to tell him: "We forgot to
bring our gear back last night."
He asked: "Where is it?
Behind the bar at ----?"
He knew about the bar, and he started jumping up and down, mad as
H---. Then he asked: "Did you
ever show up for Shore Patrol?"
We had to own up, we hadn't.
He got mad all over again.
He fired us from ever going on patrol again. Later in the war, the Navy formed
permanent shore patrol, relieving the ships of that
duty.
------------------------------
ANOTHER BAYUS
STORY
On our way to New Guinea,
we had to go through the Panama Canal and spent a few days there. We had just finished a Navy Yard
availability in NYC. We had
"wired" ahead a long list of repairs that the NY Yard hadn't done and that
needed to be done before we left the CZ.
The engineering plant was in very good shape and didn't need any
work. It was even clean. We had time on our hands, someone
found some torpedo juice, which we mixed with fruit juice. We hung around the engine room,
sipping our "juice", telling sea stories. We ate lunch and then went over to the
Marine "Rec Hall". They had
beer. We bought beer by the
gallon bucket and passed it around, until it needed refilling. The "boss", Mr. Bayus, mustang first
class and our chief engineer, was tired of us coming back to the ship, half
"lit" and then getting ready to go on liberty. He was going to put a stop to
it!! He showed up about 1400, and
plenty mad. He told us to get our
a--- back to the ship and get to work.
We allowed the plant was in good shape, better now, than when we put
her in commission. Someone
asked; "Boss, can't we finish
this bucket?" He was offered the
bucket, he drank and passed it on.
I think he bought the next couple of buckets. We went through a few more buckets,
before the fight started. The
Boss got a very big black eye, we think one of those Marines did it, after he
"lost" his cap.
JOHN
MERCER
===================
MORE FROM LOUIS
SCHWARTZ
After a high speed
crossing of the Atlantic, escorting troop packed transports, the Rock of
Gibraltar slid astern and the "W" tied up at Mers-el-Kebir, North Africa. The large city of Oran was only 8
miles away and like most North African cities the buildings were either very
modern or very ancient. A cheap
wine or beer (warm and tasting suspiciously like gasoline) was bought by the
more hardy and postcards by the characters with weaker stomachs. Some English was spoken, such as,
"shoe shine sailor," gimme a cigarette" or "go to H----." All in all, it was just another
hot and dry African city, very over crowded by a great many very poor
people.
-------------------------
CLOSE
CALL
On the 17th of May 1944,
the "W" helped smash up palm trees and brush on Wakde Island. We moved in as close to the
beach as seemed safe and raked the island with every gun that could be brought
to bear. LCI's equipped with
rocket launchers moved in and proceeded to make more noise than the WILKES.
Not to be out done the "W" eased in a little closer (what she needed was a set
of wheels) and soldiers, in the process
of landing could be plainly seen, until a enemy machine gun suddenly
sputtered. The soldiers promptly
vanished and our crew noted with interest small splashes in the water near the
ship and a strange zzzzzzing sound.
On the main deck, 2 innocent sailors heard a zzing, followed closely by
a thud. They both turned and
stared in surprise at the jagged hole in the bulkhead behind them. One yelled, "Bullet Hole!!!" but the
other man was already scuttling up the deck on his hands and knees. He
followed right behind. Another
bullet tore into the search light on the bridge, another hit the telephone
headpiece a torpedoman was wearing, and went on to drill a hole in number two
stack. Still another lodged in a
ladder leading to the after deck house.
Enough was enough, the "W" got the hell out of there, where she had no
business being in the first place.
-----------------------
GYRO-CAPTURES THE
'W'
On Aug 18, 1944, the
ship's motor whale boat went into the beach at Humboldt Bay to pick up the
officer's liberty party. I was
the boat engineer. We were told
to wait. The boat's cox'n ran the boat alongside the remains of a native hut
built out over the water and tied up.
Dead ahead of the boat, not 30 feet away, was a stone breakwater that
ran parallel to the beach for about 50-60 feet. The breakwater itself was over a 100
feet from land and was not connected to shore by a bridge, or anything
else. The cox'n looking at the
far end of the breakwater, saw a couple of birds acting strangely. They were diving at the rocks and
squawking bloody murder. Looking
carefully the cox'n was able to see a small back and white dog. The dog was obviously close to the
bird's nest, hence the uproar by the birds. Uninformed of the nest, the dog was
watching the birds' antics with interest. Soon the combined whistling of the
boat crew caught the dog's attention.
It then stumbled along the breakwater to investigate this new
attraction. It stopped opposite
the boat, looked us over for a minute, and then jumped into the water and
started swimming to the boat.
Willing hands reached over the aside of the boat and lifted the dog
aboard. A voice said, "Damn, it's
a she." The boat crew sat and stared at her, trying to figure out what to do
next, and she stared right back.
Just then the officers called for the boat. When they got in and saw the dog,
decided (while feeling mellow) she would make a good mascot. So "GYRO," as she was soon christened,
joined the ship's company of the WILKES.
She quickly learned that food could be had at the galley, and the
sounding of the General Alarm was her signal to streak for the forward crew's
quarters, where the repair party waited for her to pass before closing and
dogging the water-tight doors.
-------------------------
BACK TO THE
USA
Dec 16th, 1944, the WILKES
crept slowly into Bemerton, Wash., off loaded ammo, torpedoes, and then eased
wearily into Todd Shipyard for an overhaul. The crew went ashore and looked at
real live women again. When they
saw a newspaper with headlines about a task force dashing around, it crossed
their minds a big part of the story was never printed. Days of screening fast moving carriers
under the same sky and on the same sea, can be very monotonous and
dangerous. Making long runs to
pick up downed plane crews was a welcome break. Long hours at GQ in a gun mount or in
a hot engine room waiting for something to happen, anything, wore everyone's
patience. Waiting for tankers to
come out with the mail (to hell with the oil), and that long wait for the day,
they would see the STATES and HOME again.
The romance of the "South
Seas" was a lot of Hollywood talk.
"Beautiful" tropical islands turned out to be wet, steaming jungles,
infested with Japs, mosquitoes, or a strip of coral with a lonely palm tree or
two. "Beautiful South Sea
Beauties" were round, pendulous and more often then not, scaly with skin
diseases. The South Seas held no
interest for them, it was a place of heat, long days at sea, and sudden
death. Their fervent wish was
never to go back. However they
knew, when the "W" was repaired, she and they would be going
back.
The States had
changed. "What's your order
Sir?" "Well, gimme a steak,
French fr---". A quick reply "Say
Bud, don't you know there is a WAR on?????"
LOUIS
SCHWARTZ
==================
ROWDY
BEHAVIOR
On our way to the Pacific,
we transited the Panama Canal to join that "other war." At Panama we berthed outboard of the
light cruiser CONCORD (CL 11), which meant that our liberty parties had to
cross the cruiser's decks. First,
a returning destroyerman stumbled and broke a bottle of rum on the CONCORD's
quarter-deck. Then the cruiser's
crew was treated to the spectacle of a man trying to climb the WILKES' forward
stack and leap off--to prove to a skeptic that he really could fly. The CONCORD's skipper protested to the
port captain; the behavior of the destroyer's people was "demoralizing" his
crew.
Like a scolded child, The
WILKES was ordered to go sit in a far corner of the roadstead. She swung on her hook off a deserted
jetty that led to a dirt road, where taxis took her liberty parties to Panama
City.
After one whale boat
liberty, several of the crew sat on a log and shared some rum, while waiting
for the boat. After a while, some
of the sailors decided to swim back to the ship. After the rest of the liberty party
finally boarded our whale boat, the boat's bow hook used a battle lantern to
locate the swimmers. One by one
they were hauled aboard, until almost no freeboard was left. As we approached the WILKES, we began
a spirited songfest--perhaps too spirited, for now and again someone would
fall over the side and the coxswain would make a tight circle, so we could
bring him back on board.
Throughout these
festivities, a fireman in immaculate liberty whites sat silent and erect,
holding an array of beautifully wrapped packages. My head ached, my stomach churned, and
I knew I'd be sick on my morning watch.
Focusing on that man, I thought how foolish I'd been to waste my pay on
cheap rum, while he had invested his money in gifts for this family. Remorseful, I concluded he was the
only one of our crew with any sense.
As soon as the boat came
alongside, the WILKES' deck watch reached down and began assisting their
inebriated mates up the ladder.
Then the fireman quietly rose, turned his back on the ship and,
carefully cradling his purchases, solemnly stepped off into the sea.
The boat crew fished him
out and passed him up the ladder, as his precious packages slowly sank from
view.
It was a pity about all
those lost presents--but somehow, the sight made me feel a little better.
BILL O'NEILL
=======================
DOMAIN OF NEPTUNUS
REX
When we crossed the
equator on Jan 23, 1944, at 93 degrees W, the CO had a huge "reception"
planned for all Polly Wogs. Each
Polly Wog got a Summons. Victor
Buskirk still has his and it reads as follows:
SUMMONS
U.S.S WILKES ON ENTERING
DOMAIN OF NEPTUNUS
REX
NOTICE AND LISTEN YE LANDLUBBERS
I order and command you to
appear before me and my court on the morrow to be initiated in the mysteries
of my Empire. If not, you shall
be given as food for the sharks, whales, pollywogs, frogs and all living
things of the sea, who will devour you, head, body, and soul, as a warning to
landlubbers entered my Domain without warrant.
You are charged with the
following offenses:
1. The only man, who can build a sinkable
raft of wood.
2. Leaving broken hearts scattered in
every port.
Therefore, appear and obey
or suffer the penalty
Registered:
DAVY JONES
Secretary to His Majesty
F. WOLSIEFFER
--------------------------
Vic Buskirk also has his
PLANK OWNER'S CERTIFICATE
"To all sailors wherever
ye may be -Greetings:
Know ye by these presents
that VICTOR F. BUSKIRK was a member of the original crew, which commissioned
the United States Ship, WILKES (DD441), at the Navy Yard, Boston,
Massachusetts, on the 22nd day of April 1941: and is therefore entitled to
all the rights and privileges of
a Plank Owner on board said ship.
Be it further know that he
was, on the date of commissioning, a lowly apprentice Seaman, who has now
risen to the exalted rate of Carpenter's mate 2/c, after 3 years of continuous
service on board
Done under my hand and
seal, and the great seal of the mighty WILKES, on this 22nd day of April, the
third anniversary of HER commissioning.
FREDERICK WOLSIEFFER
Commander, U.S. Navy, Commanding
====================
MORE ON DAVY
JONES
About sunset on Jan 22,
1944, Davy Jones appeared on the forecastle and stood by the jackstaff. He said to the OOD--"Ship Ahoy." OOD--"Aye, Aye, Sir." Davy J- "What ship?" OOD- "USS
WILKES." Davy J- "Very well sir,
I have been awaiting your arrival.
You will notify your Captain, that I, Day Jones, have a message to
deliver to him from his Royal Highness, "NEPTUNUS REX." OOD--"Aye, Aye, Sir." The Captain appeared and said
"Greetings, Davy Jones." Davy
J--"My congratulations to you Captain. It's been few years since I last saw
you." Captain-"Yes, it was aboard
the good ship AUGUSTA, bound south from Singapore, some 5 years ago." Davy J--"I have a summons to you from
NEPTUNUS REX. He orders you to
bring your ship into his Domain on the morrow. Furthermore, I have here with me a
summons for all your foul landlubbers."
Captain: " Tell your Royal
Master, I shall be glad to see him tomorrow. As for these summons to the
landlubbers, I shall be only to
happy to deliver them --the scums!"
The next morning, the
Royal Party laid forward, ATTENTION
was sounded on the bugle, one salvo was fired from Gun #2, and the
JOLLY ROGER was hauled down. Then the initiations started.
THE ROYAL PARTY
NEPTUNUS REX
Hunkapillar, B.
CGM
Davy Jones
Stevenson, M.
CBM
Royal Baby
Johnson, A.W.
SC 3/c
Royal Navigator
Wolsieffer, F
Commander,
Royal Chaplain
Commanding
Royal
Attorney
Royal Judge
Bayus, J. E.
Lt(jg), Eng. Off.
Royal Scribe
Cline, A.R.
Lt -Gunnery Officer
Royal Barber
Morse, C. C.
GM 1/c
Royal Doctor
Lawrence, A. J.
CEM
Royal Surgeon
Ashbacher, N. L.
CMM
Royal Devil
Patterson, D. P.
CFC
Chief Bear
Miller, C. P.
CMM
Deputy Bear
Geisendorff, R. L.
SM 2/c
Deputy Bear
Whitaker, J. R.
WT 1/c
Deputy Bear
Cronin, J. J.
S 2/c
This was the most vicious,
mean bunch of "pirates" on the face of this earth (just
kidding).
========================
ROY BEAN---BM
2/c
Bean was one of the
strongest men on the ship. He
used to climb hand-over-hand up the stays to the mast. He was also a fine shot and a strong
swimmer. When I first came on the
ship, one of my many jobs, was the mid-ship mooring station-of special sea
detail. I was green as grass and
he was a fine, patient teacher.
We also had the job of putting the ship's whale boat in the water and
its recovery, when we left port.
When we refueled at sea, we had the mid-ship refueling station. Within
a short time, I really knew how to do the job.
The CO wasn't known as a
ship handler. Bean always put out
extra fenders to keep us safely away from the ship/pier, etc. When we were bouncing off the pier,
he'd go over the bulwark and brace himself and using his legs, push our ship
away from the other ship/pier. It
was amazing how much he could move the ship sideways. He knew how to get the mooring lines
over and properly secured, quickly.
He was right on the ball in getting the ship's boat in the water,
"smartly."
We were in Panama, the CO
gave me the "high honor" of representing the ship on
Shore Patrol. I protested, I had a lot of
communication work to do and really needed the time to get caught up. No soap. Luckily I got Bean as my PO for the
duty. You couldn't have a better
fellow SP. We both liked to
explore. So we got to see all the
houses of ill-repute and other sundry dives--all which was "out of bounds" to
service men. We had a fine time
sightseeing, although we were both mighty footsore. When I got back to the ship, I roundly
complained what a "rotten day we had."
Every time the ship had to
furnish Shore Patrol, I got "honored" by the CO. I always found a way to get Bean to go
with me. He thought it was just
fine. When we got to French North
Africa-we made several trips- we both went on SP, in Casablanca, Algiers,
Oran. We got into the Casbah, the
houses of less than honor, the real native quarters, etc. We went from the Sultan's palace to
the meanest streets in the cities.
We saw the Bedouins with their camels, sheep and goats, just in from
the desert, dressed like they were in the time of Christ. It was one heck of an education. With Bean along, no one ever gave us
any problems.
In North Africa the Navy
SP was a joint command with the Army MP's. We had jurisdiction over all allied
personnel, except the Free French.
We never arrested anyone if they were a bit tipsy, we'd escort them
back to headquarters, where they were taken back to their
base/ship.
On our next trip back to
Casablanca, after Sicily, Bean and I were on SP. There was a nice looking young fellow
in the deck gang, who was also a loader on the port 40MM guns. He had a bad habit of running off and
not coming back from liberty. I
tried to talk to him, but was just wasting my breath. He was restricted to the ship, but we
spotted him in one of the back alleys in Casablanca. We both knew he shouldn't be on
liberty. He spotted us and away
he ran. We were right
behind. However, he slipped away
from us, into some very dark alley and we gave up on him. He never made it back to the ship and
we left him there. I often
wondered what happened to him.
Hope he liked Casablanca.
Our last SP duty was in
Casablanca. It was a rainy day,
and we had to slog through the streets and alleys. The camels, donkeys, sheep and goats
all commingled with the people and what they do naturally, ended up on the
cobble stones. By the time we
were done, we were soaked up to our knees, and the residuals of the animals
coated our pants and shoes. When
we got back to the ship, we just threw them away.
------------------------
FINE
SHOT
We were anchored in
Buna. We finally persuaded the CO
to let the crew go swimming. In those tropical waters, all sorts of exotic
animals/fish swam around. He
wisely arranged for 2 marksmen to stand on the flying bridge to keep an eye
out for these creatures. Bean was
one of these good shots. The
fellows were having a fine time diving and splashing around. Within a 1/2 hour Bean spotted 2
sharks heading for the swimmers.
He shot both dead. That
ended the swimming party for that day.
A ROYAL CHEWING
OUT
On our invasion of
Hollandia, etc., we had General Walter Krueger and his staff on board. The SWANSON had Admiral "Uncle Dan"
Barbey and his staff, plus some other Generals. We pulled into Hollandia and General
Krueger wanted to have a conference with Admiral Barbey, etc. He asked us to send a "flash" to the
SWANSON with that request, which we did.
I was the OOD on the
bridge, we were at anchor but ready to get underway at a moment's notice. One of our signalmen spotted the
Admiral's boat approaching. I
called the General, Commodore, etc. to tell them. I then ran down to the quarter deck to
welcome the Admiral. He sprang up
the ladder and I gave him a big salute and said "Good afternoon Admiral,
welcome aboard." He had ridden
our ship before, so I was acquainted with him.
He was in a rage and
shouted: "Why didn't you send your boat for me? I sent you a message." I tried to explain, we never got his
signal. He just got angrier and
really chewed me out. He demanded
to see the Comm Officer. I said:
"I'm the Communications Officer."
He really exploded!!
In the meantime the
General was on his way down to the quarter deck to greet the Admiral. He heard the uproar and came over to
shake hands with the Admiral. The
Admiral started in on him. The
General didn't say a word, but quietly pointed to his 3 stars on his
collar. The Admiral turned red
and stopped in mid-sentence. Then
they all proceed to the General's cabin for the conference.
After the uproar was over,
the CO wanted to know what had happened.
I checked and found the SWANSON hadn't send the message to us. I'd guess their signal gang was
overwhelmed by the extra work the Flag Officers
generated.
----------------------
FAST
CRUISER
In May 1943, we got orders
to take a brand new cruiser out for its sea trials. I believe it was the MOBILE (CL
63). It was a perfect day, sunny,
fairly warm and the sea flat. We
took on a full load of fuel the night before and we got underway very early in
the morning. We met the cruiser
outside of Hampton Roads and away we went. The CO of the cruiser wanted to see
how fast she'd go and gradually built up her speed. She'd signal a speed increase, we'd
add on speed to keep ahead.
I was the JOOD on the
12-1600 watch. Gene Somers
was the OOD. I had the Conn. We were just flying, going well over
38kts. The cruiser signaled "Turn
9", which meant "turn 90 degrees to the right." We "too blocked" the signal to
indicate we understood and would comply.
The cruiser "executed." I
gave orders to the helmsman to come to the new course 90 degrees right of the
old one. The "W" heeled over
coming to the new course. In a
flash I saw that the cruiser had turned left. Within a few seconds, we were way out
of position. I quickly ordered
"left full rudder" and started after the cruiser, asking the engine room for
as many extra turns as possible.
The CO feeling all the
sudden movements of the ship, came up on the bridge to see what was going
on. He took one look at the
cruiser and started bellowing. He
wanted to know, what in the H-- was going on and how come we were not on
station??????? Gene and I tried
to explain what had happened. We
even got the signalmen and quarter masters to back us up, but the CO wasn't
buying. We heard about that for
several weeks.
We never did catch the
cruiser, until he decided to go back into port. We got up to 42 kts, but the cruiser,
kept pulling away from us. I
think, the CO of the cruiser just wanted to see what his ship could do and was
pulling a fast one on us.
Unfortunately, our CO didn't have much of a sense of humor. For the 8 hours we averaged 38 kts and
burned 100,000 gals of NSFO.
Quite a thrill to go that fast.
-----------------------
LIBERTY IN
COLON--PANAMA
We had taken a large
number of full loaded troop transports to the CZ. We got liberty there. Several of us, wanting to see some of
the city, decided to go and sample the food, and the local "culture". We picked out a nice looking
restaurant, which turned out, later in the evening, to be a night club. Doc Stollman, Paul Hursh, Bill
Kleinfelter, Hank Mobley and I enjoyed the food and drinks. The rum was pretty potent. As the evening wore on, the night club
dancers came on. In short order
the female dancers got down to the bare essentials. Unfortunately all good things had to
come to an end, as liberty was up at 2300.
-----------------------
LIBERTY IN
GUTMO
We had the job of taking a
large seaplane tender from Gutmo to Norfolk. I believe it was the ALBEMARLE (AV
5). We got into Gutmo and I had
liberty. We had hoped to get over
to the Cuban town (Calmanera), outside the gates, but it had been placed "off
limits" So we had to be satisfied
with the "O" club. The Commodore
and several other officers went ashore in the boat and walked up to the "O"
club. We had something to eat and
a few drinks. The native rum was
awful strong and only cost, perhaps 20
cents a drink, so there was a tendency to over indulge. I had my limit and started back to the
boat landing, leaving the Commodore happily at the bar. I got back to the ship and the XO met
me at the quarter deck and wanted to know: "Where is the Commodore???" I replied "Back at the "O" Club. He wanted to know how come I left him
there? I allowed the Commodore
was an adult. That didn't cut any
ice with the XO. He gave me FIRM
instructions, get back to the "O" Club and bring the Commodore back to the
ship!!! I pointed out to the XO,
I was just a green Ensign and why would he listen to me, especially when he
was having a great time? I got my
marching orders.
Back in the boat, back to
the "O" Club. The Commodore was
still having a fine time. I had
no idea how I was going to handle this one. They didn't teach that in
Midshipman School. I told him,
"It's getting late and the XO was concerned he wasn't back to the ship, and we
have to get underway early in the morning." He wasn't buying that one either. I couldn't sell anything that
day. Finally, I simply took him
by the arm and said "We're going back to the ship." By George, it worked. We wandered back to the boat landing,
happy as larks, got in the boat and back to the ship.
At breakfast, the next
morning I fully expected to get a blast from the Commodore. He just made a big joke out of it,
much to my relief. He was batting
a 1000 in my league.
-------------------------
MERS-EL-KEBIR
In June 1943, we went to
Oran and moored, along with 50 or more other cans, alongside a very long quay,
the port area called Mers-el-Kebir.
We moved around a lot, getting fuel, stores, etc. The port authorities provided native
line handlers for us. They were a
sorry lot. It took 5-6 men to
handle each line and they didn't have the vaguest idea what to do. They had 5-6 pairs of pants on, along
with the same number of shirts.
They need that many, as all their clothes were nothing but rags and
with 5-6 pants, they were able to cover up the holes in each and avoid an
embarrassment.
Finally the CO wisely
decided to have our own men handle the lines, when we shifted berths. The natives were very unhappy and
raised a big howl. However, the
howling stopped when the CO told them, they'd get paid anyway. Everyone was happy, we got safely
moored, the natives got paid for doing nothing, except to keep out of the
way.
As in all North African
ports we hit, the natives swarmed around the ship in "bum boats", trying to
sell-anything and everything-you name it. We had to keep extra armed sentries on
deck to keep them at bay. When we
left the ship on liberty, crowds of them would be just outside the gate,
trying to buy Navy mattress covers, as well as selling souvenirs, etc. You
would have to push your way through the mass of people.
It was kind of pitiful to
see the large numbers of people (Arabs) in such dire poverty, dirt, filth and backwardness.
We had been there a week
or so, when we got word that several VIP's would visit the area. On the big day, everyone had the ships
all cleaned up, etc. Things never
looked better. I went up on the
bridge, and got a pair of binoculars so I could see better. We all got a good view of IKE,
Winston Churchill and King George VI, all riding in an open car, waving to
all. Everyone cheered like mad
and the ships blew their whistles and sirens. What a racket. It was nice to see that the Top Brass
cared!!
By this time Buck O'Berry
was out of "hack". So he, Henry
Mobley, Sy Dennis and I decided to do some exploring. There was an ancient Moorish Fort
overlooking the harbor. We had
been looking at it for awhile and we thought it would make a nice hike to the
top. So we got our .45's, as we
thought we'd do some target practice as well. We got to the top of the fort and
explored the area. There was a fantastic view of the
harbor, city and ships. The fort
was very interesting, all the huge stones brought in by hand. We shot our .45's, couldn't hit
anything.
Then we thought, wonder
what's to the west? So we walked
up to the main road and tried to hitch a ride. The Americans wouldn't pick us pick,
but soon a Limey weapons carrier roared into view and stopped. We hopped on board and away we
went. The driver was the world's
worse and nearly scared us to death, going around the sharp mountain curves at
hi-speed. As soon as we hit the
flat land to the west, we decided to bale out. We thanked them for the ride and gave
proper thanks to a higher authority for safe deliverance.
We found out that we had
gotten off at a villa that served as a rest area for the Army. It was a place called Aine-el-
Turk. There was a wonderful wide,
flat beach and the water was the bluest of the blue, and the sand the
whitest-white. By dumb luck, we
hit a wonderful place. They had a
place to change clothes, but we didn't have any bathing gear. So we did without. We were the only ones around. We were a bit worried that the natives
might make off with our .45's, but they didn't. So we had a wonderful swim and by this
time we were hungry and thirsty.
Food we couldn't find, but we did find a very old Arab, who had a
vineyard. After proper
negotiations, we bought a large bottle of wine. We passed the bottle around and
shortly we got near the bottom.
Someone noticed a very large black beetle in the bottom of the
bottle. It was huge, ugly and
dead. That stopped our
drinking!! I'd guess they put the
beetle in "for the flavor." Some
custom--some flavor!!
We then caught another
ride back to Mers-el Kebir and walked back to the ship. By this time it was pretty late in the
afternoon, when we hit the ship.
We were exhausted. What a
day!!!!! The CO inquired, "How
come you all are so late?" We
gave him a thumb nail description of our adventures. He wasn't amused and said "no more
exploring!! You should know
better." It was worth it many
times over!!!!!
While in the Oran area, we
probably shifted berths a half doz. times. Finally, we ended up the first can
forward of the Admiral's flagship.
That bothered the CO, he wanted to make a good impression and sometimes
we weren't always on our best behavior coming off
liberty.
------------------------
ALGIERS
We hit Algiers before we
got to Oran. We were working our
way eastward. A large number of
cans were due in. There were 4
ahead of us, the first one's in the harbor. They moored along a long
quay. We waited until they all
got moored. Then we started in
behind them. We made it OK and
were doubling up our mooring lines, when there was a huge roar from the can
(Gene Somers recalls it to be the BUCK) directly in front of us. It makes sense to been the BUCK-being
the Squadron Commander's ship, they would come in first and we being the Division Commander's
ship, would be moored right behind them. Since we were almost finished, I ran
up on the forecastle to see what had happened.
Someone in that can's
engineering gang must have accidentally opened the main throttle, while they
were securing from Special Sea Detail.
The ship lurched forward, snapping all the mooring lines and plowed
into the concrete wall at the end of the quay. What a mess, the bow was
crumbled. It had to get some
quick repairs to go on the Sicily invasion. After that, the CO made extra sure
that didn't happen to us--a wise precaution.
MORE ON NY
LIBERTY
When we went into the
Brooklyn Navy Yard, after Sicily, everyone wanted to go on as much liberty as
possible (a very natural desire].
The CO held court at the "21" Club. However, he didn't see fit to invite
some of the officers. All the
married officers were billeted at the St. John's Hotel, as the ship really
wasn't fit to live on. So Buck
O'Berry, Henry Mobley, Chief Bayus, Sy Dennis and a couple of others and I
thought it might be appropriate to have a party in one of the better hotels in
Manhattan. We picked the
Plaza. When I had liberty, I
always went home to Rye to visit my parents, but that night I told them I had
to stay in NY. So we all went to
the Plaza for dinner and a few drinks afterwards. The Plaza, then as now, was one of the
premier hotels.
We had a very fine, sedate
time, enjoying the fine food, music, drinks, and service. The next evening, I went home and the
first thing my father said: "I hope you enjoyed your evening at the
Plaza." I was dumbfounded. How in the world did he know about
that? Well it turned out that a
close friend of his, was also having dinner there and recognized me. He told my Dad every last detail. I
never did find out who the "snitch" was.
Pop said: "At least you all were very perfect gentlemen and you
couldn't have picked a better place to have your dinner." Some way to blow the myth of sailors
on shore leave!!
What's the chance of being
seen in a city of 5 million?
-----------------------
LOSS OF THE
TURNER
When we came into NY
harbor very early Christmas Day l943, we had to unload our ammo in Gravesend
Bay, before going into the
Yard. We made a record for
off-loading. After finishing,
several cans, coming from the Yard, anchored, as we were leaving. The TURNER (DD 648) took our
anchorage.
On Jan 3, I was walking to
the RR station, in Rye, to catch the train to NYC, and back to the ship. It was about 0530 or so, when I heard
a heavy explosion. I didn't think
too much about it, until, around 1030, we got the word that the TURNER had
blown up, at the time I heard the blast.
As I recall there were very few survivors and I never did find out the
cause.
-----------------------
SEA SICK
LOOKOUT
Just before we left for,
what turned out to be the Sicily invasion, we picked up our usual quota of
"boots." One of these new men was
Samuel Leotta. He was a very good natured young fellow, a recent immigrant
from Sicily. He spoke English
with a heavy accent and was from
the Allentown, Pa area.
His watch station was in
the upper handling room, gun #2, and he relieved the starboard lookout on the bridge. I think he stood his first watch with
me. He was so sea sick for the
entire trip, he could hardly walk.
He used to carry a bucket around with him. When on lookout, he kept the bucket
between his legs-ready for instant use.
His aim was pretty good but I always reminded him, "if you're going to
be sick, just let me know, so I can get out of the way." He never complained and I always
admired him for his fortitude.
With all his problems, he was a very good lookout. He never got over being sea sick. (Ed
Note: When we were doing research
for the book, we got his correct name, I had thought it was John and from
Brooklyn-not even close)
-------------------------
LIBERTY
IN BORA BORA
On our way to New Guinea,
we stopped in Bora Bora for fuel.
The island had a well deserved reputation for beauty, as did the native
people. We were there only one night and by some stroke of luck, I got
liberty. Henry Mobley and I went
ashore and bought some native trinkets made from mother of pearl. We then walked up to the "O" club for
a few drinks. When we started to
leave, it was dark-absolutely black.
We didn't have the vaguest notion of the way back to the boat
landing. We spotted a jeep, with
the keys in it. We decided, if we took the jeep, and got lost, we could always
follow the road-down hill-no sweat.
If we walked and got lost, we'd be in big trouble. So we "borrowed" the jeep. Unfortunately, it was the personal
jeep of some bird colonel. Henry
drove, as he was a bit more sober.
We left the jeep at the boat landing, and got the boat back to the
ship.
The colonel, leaving the
club-no jeep-called MP's. They
found jeep at boat landing.
WILKES only Navy ship in port.
Must be WILKES people.
BRILLIANT-- They flashed the ship. The Wolf wanted to know-"what about a
jeep from the "O" club?" Henry
and I owned up, He was less than
pleased.
------------------------
GENERAL WALTER
KRUEGER
We had picked up General
Krueger in Cape Cretin, on our way to the invasion of Hollandia, etc. He was the overall Army
Commander. We were his
flagship, and also the radar picket ship, 10 miles ahead of the Task
Force. On the evening of the 20th
of April, about 2100, we had just secured from GQ and I was in the code room
decoding incoming messages. GQ
sounded and I quickly secured the code machine, grabbed my life jacket, helmet
and .45, and headed for the bridge. I was the OOD at GQ. I ran through the black-out curtain
inside the hatch. I always
climbed up the ladder on the mast to get to the bridge-no one else ever used
the ladder. Just as I got through
the hatch I ran into someone. I
was running and I really hit him hard.
I was quite surprised as I had never had any competition on my
route. I said "I'm sorry." He said "fine." I recognized the General's voice (he
had a decided German accent), and his 3 stars flashed in the dim light. I was mortified and apologized
profusely. He said: "I'm just a
passenger, you have to fight the ship."
So I climbed up the ladder to the bridge and relieved the OOD. It turned out to be an enemy scout
plane. He didn't spot us or the
TF, and just passed harmlessly off the radar screen.
At breakfast the next
morning, I again apologized to the General. He had a good laugh over the
incident. He again said: "I'm
just a passenger." I was very
relieved. How many 3 star general
officers would have such a human touch?
Not many in my book. He
got on the top of my list of top-notch people, along with Commodore
Greenacre.
We were standing one watch
in three, plus lots of GQ, plus a huge number of classified radio messages
that had to be decoded. Every
operation generated a large increase in radio traffic. I hadn't had more than an hour's sleep
at one time, since we left Buna and this continued until we got back to
Buna. The CO refused to appoint a
coding board, to help with the decoding.
On most ships, the Supply and Medical Officer work on the coding
board.
BILL
MOSHER
===============
REUNION
From the Fitchburg, Mass
newspaper-- June 26, l993
AFTER 49 YEARS, CHANCE
LINKS 5 --- WW 2 SAILORS
Leominister--For a couple
of days last week 5 old salts, who hadn't seen each other in 49 years, got
together at Roy Bean's place at 1237 Central St.
But this wasn't just any
old reunion. These guys served
and fought together on the Navy
destroyer, U.S.S. WILKES,
during WWII. Joining Bean at his
home were Hiram Henslee of
College Point, GA; Lester Glasheen, of Leominister; William Barnett, of
Bedford; William Richardson, of West Boylston.
The reunion came about
after Glasheen and his wife stopped in Texas, several months ago and bought a
newspaper. He noticed that other
former sailors from the WILKES had a reunion in Texas. When he got home, he gave a copy to
Bean, who in turn contacted John Mercer.
John sent Bean the names and addresses of all his old shipmates.
Henslee, who Bean calls
"Eudox", his middle name, drove 1200 miles from GA, with his wife, Barbara,
arriving here June 18. Bean, who
was originally from Weatherford, Texas, go way back with Henslee. They served together on the U.S.S.
LEEDSTOWN, (AP 73) in North
Africa. The LEEDSTOWN was a Grace
Line passenger ship converted to a military transport.
Bean recalled the ship
being torpedoed by a German sub, in the Mediterranean in 1942. After jumping off the stricken, ship
they both swam 3 1/2 miles to the shores of Algiers.
(Editor Note--It's a small
world. My long time neighbor, who
lives across the street from me, Emil Kolich was a soldier on the LEEDSTOWN.
When it got torpedoed, he was blown into the water-wounded, he managed to get
on a large piece of wood and paddle ashore. He pulled himself onto the beach and
was wounded again, and spent several months recovering in the
hospital.)
=========================
CHRISTMAS MENU -- 1942
Oyster Cocktail
Rice Turkey Soup
Mixed Sweet Pickles
Heart of Celery
Stuffed Olives
Roast "Young Tom"
Turkey
Virginia Baked Ham
Giblet Gravy
Sage Dressing
Cranberry Sauce
Mashed Potatoes Buttered June Peas
Asparagus Tips
Mixed Nuts
Hard Candy
Fresh Fruit
Fruit Cake
Apple Pie
Parker House Rolls
COOKS: Morago, L. R. SC 1c
Kirk, J. L. SC 1c Blevins,
J. E. K., SC 2c
Vander Reyden SC 3c
Martin, L. S. SC 3c
Johnson, L. V. Sea 2c
Scilluffo, V. J. Sea 2c
Pisani, J. Sea 2c
Rispoli, F. V. Sea 1c
VERNON HUBER -- Division
Commander
J. B. McLEAN, Commanding Officer
F. WOLSIEFFER, Executive Officer F. E.
SOMERS, Commissary Officer
=========================
WILKESONIAN----ANNIVERSARY
ISSUE APRIL 1943
"Congratulations, Captain
Wolsieffer, on assuming command.
We all extend our best wishes for a happy tour as Captain of our
Ship. We promise to do our best
to keep this an "efficient ship" and a "happy ship' at all
times.
A MESSAGE FROM THE
CAPTAIN:
Greetings to all
hands. On Feb 18, 1943, I had the
great honor of assuming command of the U.S.S. WILKES. That day was one of the most memorable
of my long naval career. First of
all, it marked the achievement of a status dear to the hearts of all naval
officers--one's own first command.
Secondly, it marked the assumption of the "top billet" on board a ship,
that I had placed in commission and already served in the capacities of
Gunnery Officer, then XO.
The command of a destroyer
is one of the finest duties afloat in this man's Navy. Had I had my choice of command, I
would have chosen the WILKES, without hesitation, from among all others--even
new construction. There being no
choice in such matters, it was my good fortune that Lady Luck was with
me.
You may wonder, why I
cherish the fact, that I am now the "Old Man" of this particular ship. The reason is quite simple to
explain. The WILKES is more than
a mass of hull and equipment. She
is a living, breathing personality, that reflects the spirit of loyalty,
cooperation, and devotion to duty of the men, who have and are shaping her
destiny. Each and everyone of us
are definitely a part of this ship and, as such, have the power individually
and collectively to mold her character.
We are more than a ship and ship's company; we are a body composite; a happy union
of men and steel. Such a
combination, with a common cause, is unconquerable.
We have suffered reverses
in the past but have emerged with colors flying. We have acquitted ourselves well in
the Battle of the Atlantic and in the African Campaign. But, the War is still in its early
stages. Victory is not yet within
our grasp. Future campaigns will
demand our utmost fighting efficiency.
We must work ever closer together. We must be prepared for any and all
eventualities.
I will not ask you to
better our past performances.
That urge should be an inherent characteristic of every true
American. But I shall ask and
demand that you do not, by your conduct, detract from or bring discredit upon
the honorable record and fine name of this--OUR SHIP.
F. WOLSIEFFER
Commanding
Officer
================
PLANK OWNERS----(Those
still on aboard after 2 long years)
F.
WOLSIEFFER-COMMANDING
1
STAMM, CHARLES W.
26 MERCER,
JOHN
2
SCOTT, LEWIS JR.
27 YATES, HENRY
C.
3
MARKLEY, RAYMOND K.
28 WHITAKER, JOE
R.
4
LE PAGE, GEORGE F.
29 HAWKINS, WILLIAM
F.
5
KEOGLER, GEORGE H.
30 KELLY, LAWRENCE
E.
6
BURGESS, HAROLD A.
31 MARTIN, SHERIDAN
E.
7
SCHMIDT, CARL W. JR
32 SCHWARTZ, LOUIS
R.
8
MORAGO, LAWRENCE R.
33 SMITH, HENRY
S.
9
MILLER, CHARLES P.
34 SPANGLER, DEWEY H.
JR
10 LAWRENCE, ANTHONY J.
35 EFT, LESLIE
E.
11 POUSH, RICHARD E.
36 HARDEN, JAMES
E.
12 PATERSON, DONALD P.
37 BUSKIRK, VICTOR
F.
13 GOODWIN, RALPH E.
38 CADLE, DAVID
D.
14 CONLIN, LAWRENCE P.
39 GABRIEL, GUSTAVE
E.
15 CARPENTER, GEORGE O.
40 GOTTSCHALK,
WALTER
16 ASHBACKER, NATHAN L.
41 KING, FRED
E.
17 COLLIER, RALPH N.
42 KING, JOHN
H.
18. BLEVINS, JOHNNIE
E.R.
43 KOLODZEY,
GEORGE
19 BROWN, HASKEL D.
44 MARTIN, EDWARD
G.
20 GEINSENDORFF, RALPH L.
45 MC PHERSON, HENRY
21 MC LAWS, MELVIN
46 RENTON, ROBERT H.
JR
22 BONNALLIE, LORAL F.
47 SYMONDS, JOHN
W.
23 KELLY, EDWARD
48 WARREN,
ANDREW
24 HANSEN, LLOYD J.
49 ZYATS,
ANDREW
25 MAST, JOHN M.
50 CRAVEN, CARL A.
-------------------------
Our new XO, Lt. R.E.
Weiss, is doing an excellent job of filling the (large) shoes of our former
XO. Have you ever wondered what
runs through the mind of an Exec, as he makes his daily strolls through the
ship? Wonder no longer--for Mr.
Weiss will tell you what he thinks-----
"The Exec. is usually an
anonymous sort of a person, but not through any fault of his own. He signs his name to MEMORANDUMS and ORDERS and similar
atrocities. He snoops around the
ship at frequent intervals--always with the glint in his eye of a man looking
for trouble.
If you are interested in
knowing what he THINKS, maybe this will give you an idea.
FIRST: How can I make this a better war
ship? A fighting crew--a ship
with spirit-- guns that are always ready. That is a goal that every man and officer on this ship
shares. That is the only reason
we belong to the Navy these days.
If we hope to live to belong to the Navy another day, we must realize
that goal TODAY.
SECOND: How can I make this ship a better one
to serve on? I have a suspicion
that it is a hell of a lot pleasanter down in A 203L, when the decks are swabbed
clean and the compartment is not littered with other people's clothing. When the food is served promptly and
it is hot and tasty. When liberty
is granted as freely as possible.
THIRD: Come up and see me sometime! we all react similarly. We all have the same worries and
problems. If I can help one man
square away a difficulty during my time on the WILKES, then I have made one
better fighting man for Uncle.
R. E. Weiss--XO
-------------------------
OTHER
NOTES:
Lt. A. R. Cline, Jr., is an addition to
the rapidly expanding Gunnery Staff.
He was transferred from the U.S.S. MOFFETT (DD 362).
Dr. Stollman took over Dr.
Trombetta's sick bay, sometime ago. He has proven himself to be just as
susceptible to the sea, as the old Doc.
"Up goes the anchor, down goes Doc."
Mr. Bayus, our new Chief
Engineer, who really came aboard with a big front, would like to know, who
brought the gremlins aboard the day he arrived?
Mr. Dennis rounds out the
roster of new officers since our last issue. As Sound Officer and Assistant
Communicator, that good-natured, good-humored Texan is doing a grand
job.
-------------------------
The last ship's dance,
held at the Hotel Madison, proved to be the Dance of Dances. It is still the subject of many a
conversation. The Captain's
magnanimous friends sponsored our party and they didn't omit a detail in
providing us with an evening of joy, gaiety and variety. Plenty of food, drinks, beautiful
hostesses, music and entertainment.
A standing round of
applause to Peppy De Albrew, who did such a grand job of emceeing, Uncle Bob
Sonquist, Jimmy Bryant, Tommy Hasler, Giles Dover, Bill Winters, George
Schindler, Frank Starr, George Fitz, Tommy Pope, Jack Kriendler and many other
friends of Captain Wolsieffer, who sponsored our party. Another round of applause to
Broadway's headliners, who provided us with entertainment par
excellence.----Sophie Tucker, Eddie Davis, Ray and Naldi, Dean Murphy, Reva
Reyes, and many others, gave us their best. Let's not forget the great Irish Jig
done by our former PhM striker, O'Grady.
The Captain played host, a
good part of the evening to three of the most beautiful W.P.A. (women present
ashore), who are all well known personalities. These included Arleen Whalen (star in
the current Broadway rowdy comedy "The Doughgirls."); Margaret Hayes and
Mickey Dodge.
==================
MENU--THANKSGIVING
DINNER--- NOV 25, 1943
OYSTER
COCKTAIL
RICE TURKEY SOUP
TOASTED
CRACKERS
MIXED OLIVES
SWEET
PICKLES
ROAST YOUNG TOM TURKEY
BAKED
VIRGINIA
HAM
SAGE DRESSING
CRANBERRY
SAUCE
GIBLET GRAVY
MASHED POTATOES
ASPARAGUS
TIPS
HOME BAKED BREAD
CREAMERY
BUTTER
MINCE PIE A LA MODE
FRUIT
CAKE
MIXED HARD CANDY
CIGARS
COFFEE
CIGARETTES
A.R. Cline,Lt, Commissary
Officer
L. R. Morago, CCStd
=========================
MENU-- CHRISTMAS
DAY---l943
FRUIT
COCKTAIL
RICE TURKEY SOUP
TOASTED CRACKERS
MIXED OLIVES
SWEET PICKLES
ROAST YOUNG TOM- TURKEY
BAKED VIRGINIA HAM
SAGE DRESSING
GIBLET GRAVY
CANDIED SWEET
POTATOES
CRANBERRY JELLY
JUNE PEAS
HOME-BAKED BREAD
CREAMERY BUTTER
APPLE PIE A LA MODE
CIGARS
CANDY
CIGARETTES
COFFEE
A.R. CLINE, JR-Commissary
Officer
L. R. MORAGO, CCSTD
MESSAGE FROM THE
CAPTAIN
Once again Christmas has
come to the world, the greater part of which is weary and torn with the
horrors of a devastating war. In
the lands of the people, conquered by our common enemy, there will be no
joyous celebrations--only cruel and bitter oppression. Now, perhaps more than at any other
time, we realize what it means to be an AMERICAN-to worship as we please, and
to live in a land that is and MUST BE forever free. The faith of our nation is vested in
us. We must keep that faith, whatever the cost, to preserve that freedom and
our democratic ideals for the generations to come.
Let us rejoice that we,
together with our Allies, are fighting a winning war. And, please GOD, may we carry the
fight to an early, complete, and glorious Victory, so that, once again, there
may be "Peace on the earth and good will to men."
The Officers join me in
wishing you and yours, a very MERRY CHRISTMAS and the Happiest of NEW
YEARS.
Frederick Wolsieffer--Commanding, U. S. S. WILKES
=====================
THIRD ANNIVERSARY----
APRIL 22, 1944.
Our third anniversary
found us getting ready for the invasion of Hollandia, etc. We had been on short food rations, but
our Commissary people had been saving up a lot of goodies for this event. All the CO's made a "big deal" out of
our anniversary. It was a SPECIAL
DAY.
Our CO- CDR Frederick
Wolsieffer wrote as follows: " During the past three years, she has seen
active service in every theater of operations in this global war. Her individual battle honors include
victorious actions against the Vichy French, Germans, Italians, and
Japanese.
Such a proud and enviable
record reflects the high morale and fine esprit de corps of the men who man
her. To you old timers - the
"plank owners" - and to the remainder of the crew and officers, I extend my
heartiest congratulations on your accomplishments, and my heartfelt thanks for
your splendid spirit and cooperation.
In a social way, we are
celebrating the anniversary today - one day early. Tomorrow we shall really celebrate by
striking another vicious blow against the enemy in a manner befitting the
Mighty WILKES, and her valiant crew."
THE MENU --- THIRD ANNIVERSARY
Chicken Soup with Rice and
Crackers
Roast Chicken with Giblet
Gravy
Buttered Peas Cranberry
Sauce
Mashed Sweet Potatoes
Home-made Bread
Creamery Butter
Apple Pie Ice Cream Hard
Candy
Cigarettes Peanuts
Coffee
E. J. Simmons Commissary
Officer
L. R. Morago, CCStd.
Pisani, J. A. SC 1/c
Handfield, R. J. SC
2/c
Johnson, A. W. SC
2/c
Cutter, G. M. Bkr 2/c
Rosenburg, J. W. SC
3/c
=====================
LIBERTY IN
NEWPORT
I hadn't been on the ship
very long, when we and the SWANSON went to Newport, RI area to practice with
new US subs. I'd suspect it was
as much a practice for the subs as it was for us. The weather was cold and wet. Sound conditions favored the
subs. From what I recall the subs
did better than we did. The CO
was always concerned about the safety of the subs, when they came to the
surface, on completion of the exercises.
Then we both went to New
London. The ships gave liberty to the crews. We were both moored about a 15 minutes
ferry boat ride from town. On the
way back to the ship, everyone seemed to have a "snoot full". A small fight broke out between some
of our people and the SWANSON's.
Some said something that offended the other, and away they went. Henry Mobley, Sy Dennis and I thought
we could break up the fight. Boy,
were we wrong!! In seconds a
general fight, we backed
off. In a flash the Shore Patrol
came in, with clubs flying.
Several men in both crews were brought back to their ships by the
patrol and were placed on report.
Neither CO were very pleased by that episode.
----------------------------
SWANSON'S GENERAL SIGNAL
BOOK
We were moored with the
SWANSON. When cans are moored
together, the wings of the bridges, almost touch. When everyone was sober, we all got
along with the SWANSON's crew. It
was almost like twins--fight each other, but if an outsider insults either
crew-both fight the outsider.
Our signalmen were talking
with the SWANSON's bridge gang. When our cans were moored together, the
bridges were only a couple feet apart-you could shake hands between the wings
of the bridges. Our people were telling them about the big new changes in the
General Signal Book. The
SWANSON's never heard about them.
They asked if our gang would look over their copy and make the new
changes? Being big hearted, our
signalmen said "OK", and they passed the book over to us. Within a few
minutes, we both got emergency orders to get underway immediately, which we
did. Now, we had their book and
our signal gang didn't know what to do.
So the leading signalman told our CO, that he had the SWANSON's
book. Our CO got on the TBS with
the SWANSON's CO, telling him what had happened.
The Commodore got wind of
the problem and found that the SWANSON was a bit behind in making corrections
to their pubs. His solution, the
SWANSON's Comm Dept, come over to our ship, bring their pubs and compare
theirs with ours. So the next
time we were in port, we had their Comm people in our wardroom, comparing
pubs. It was an embarrassing moment for both Comm Depts.
BILL
MOSHER
===================
ANOTHER VIEW ON THE FIGHT
IN NEW LONDON- A DIFFERENT ANGLE
John Mercer made a suggestion to
include in our book the SWANSON's version-taken from their very fine
book.
"In late 1943, in company
with WILKES (DD 441), we were returning to New York from training exercises up
in Casco Bay, Maine. Things being
a bit slack in the convoying business right at that time. We had a little extra time for
R&R, so we were coming through Long Island Sound, instead of outside. The first night we spent in Newport,
RI., where I am sure our 2 crews renewed some old acquaintances, but with no
real disagreements. The second
night was in New London, CT, where the only means of transportation available
between the Naval (sub) Base and the delights of the city was a rather small
ferry boat across the Thames River.
On the last ferry run that night, there were no vehicles in the
spacious auto deck, but only scores of the crew-officers as well as enlisted
men-of our 2 sister ships, who had always been "friendly" when they got ashore together.
The goodnight festivities
developed into such a massive surging to and from port to starboard, that the
hapless ferry Captain radioed ahead for the Shore Patrol to meet us at the
dock, which they did- in force!
The following Monday
morning in the Brooklyn Navy Yard, after a night at anchor off Port Jefferson,
LI, (no liberty), there was a very large and interested attendance at
Captain's Mast. Some Division
officers, whose men were accused of various offenses, others of the same, who
were witnesses, including me, and the main accused culprit, BM 3/c-Pappy
Poole. Coxswain Poole was one of
our oldest crewmen. He had been
up and down from 3c to 1c many times.
I well knew his routine excuse, when the SP would bring him back aboard
with a badly battered facade, "I was hurrying back from liberty, when I
tripped over a greasy fueling line and fell into the dry dock."
His time came
quickly, "Coxswain Poole," said
Captain Robertson. "You are
charged with malicious assault, resisting arrest, and worst of all, striking a
superior officer. These are
serious charges. What say
you?"
"Not guilty,
Captain."
"Can you tell me what
started the fight?"
"Yes, sir. We were coming back on this ferry boat
from a pleasant evening ashore in New London, when I just sort of passed the
time of day with this fellow standing next to me."
"Well, Poole, what started
the fight?"
"Captain, you know that
Chief Machinist's Mate on the WILKES?
I mean the one, who everyone knows is a low down, no good, so --. I mean a not very good ba--. You know a -uh-uh-. You know what I mean,
Captain?"
"Yes, Poole. I think I remember the man of whom you
are speaking. Now tell me, what
does that have to do with how this altercation started?"
"Well, Captain, we were
just standing there talking so friendly like, when this (unspeakable) person
said to me, "That Captain
Robertson of yours is a first class son - of a -bitch." "That's when I hit him, and that's how
the fight started."
Barely able to keep a
straight face, the Captain turned to us half-dozen officer witnesses and asked
each one in turn if he could verify Poole's account of the
incident.
"Yes, sir. I think that's about the way it
happened." "I think he told it right, sir." I honestly didn't hear every word, but
it was sort of like that, Sir."
All present, except maybe
Poole, were about to burst their veins to keep from laughing, by
now.
My turn--the last on,
finally. "Mr. Hill, can you
verify this story?"
"Yes, sir, Captain." I was standing right close by, and it
happened just like he said."
A long moment of silence,
as we all sort of took a deep breath.
Then--"Lost of one liberty, and let that be in Port Jefferson. Case dismissed." by CHESTER
HILL
If my memory serves me
right, the Chief in this story was our very own, Charles William Stamm, after
engine room, Plank Owner, now deceased.--JOHN MERCER
=================
MORE ON
GYRO
She was on board when I
arrived. What a dog, she
was!!! She could run up and down
the steep ladders faster than a sailor.
After the war was over, Commodore Brodie presented Gyro to Eft, the
engineer. He took her home with
him, after we were decommissioned.
Gyro had a happy civilian life, with puppies and her pictures in the
local papers. A happy ending for
a fine dog.
----------------------
MORE ON THE PBM
We were on picket duty off
Okinawa, and there were lots of "bogies" and "friendlies" around at
night. We had been shooting at
"bogies" the night before, when early in the AM, we spotted a PBM floating in
the sea. We thought we might have
shot it down accidentally, but it had run out of gas and landed in the
sea. Luckily for them, the sea
was calm and we were nearby.
We prepared to give them a
tow into the harbor, and did get lines on board, when a tug appeared and
relieved us. We got some good
photos of the plane, before the tug came by.
HERBERT
ROMMEL--"Skipper"
========================
LATE NIGHT
SANDWICHES
It has been an "informal
Navy tradition" that while loading stores, the engineering force would somehow
end up with some of the food that should have gone to the officers' mess. We were in the SW Pacific, steaming
the midnight watch in the forward fire room, when we got a phone call from #1
engine room, asking if we wanted any tuna fish? Of course!!!! So we begged some fresh bread from the
ship's baker. Then we made toast
on our hot plate and proceeded to make our tuna fish sandwiches. Right in the middle of our snack, we
saw a pair of khaki pants descending the ladder. It was too late to hide our food. We figured, we'd catch the devil. Lucky for us, the khaki pants belonged
to Mr. Miller, who was known for his love of food.
Being good "hosts", we
asked him, if he would like a sandwich?
He said: "Sure." So we
made him a nice one and he sat down to eat it. We had a few tense moments, until he
said: " Boy, this is good. What
is it?" Almost in unison, we
responded: "Chicken salad."
Mr. Miller was happy and
we were plenty relieved.
-----------------------
TEMPERAMENTAL
VALVES
I was "Oil King", who was
responsible for testing of all water, keeping records of oil and water, used
and on hand, and reporting these
to the Capt. daily. The oil king
served in that job for 3 months and my time was just about finished. I was breaking in David Newby, WT 1/c
to relieve me.
For those, who never went
below decks, we had a forward fire room and a forward engine room, also an after fire room and an after
engine room. The forward fire
room drew its oil for its 2 boilers from the forward oil tanks, the after fire
room, from the after tanks. The
tanks could be crossed over, in case of emergency.
Always trying to make my
job easier and knowing we would be refueling the next day, I had both fire
rooms taking oil from the same tank (A-5 --forward). In that way, I could top off my after
tanks and wouldn't have to take oil aft.
The oil tanks forward were A-6, A-5, A-7. Tanks A-6 and A-7 were pumped into A-5
and filled with ballast (sea water).
This was controlled from a series of sluice valves behind #1 boiler, in
the forward fire room.
My bunk was in the after
crews quarters-starboard side-just over the starboard shaft -the middle
bunk. There was a constant rumble
from the screw and shaft plus the noise from the compartment ventilators. You
got accustomed to the noises and you hardly even noticed them (until they
stopped).
Sometime in the early
morning, while sound asleep, someone shook me awake: "Hey, White, they want
you down in the fire room." The
first thing I noticed, was the dead silence. You know immediately what has
happened--water in the oil--both fire rooms. Fortunately for me, we had super
water tenders in each fire room:
Ronald Spangler, WT 1/c, forward and Charlie Sproul, WT 1/c, aft. They immediately switched to the
standby tanks and relit the fires off the hot fire box walls. We were back on line before I reached
the after fire room. By this
time, the Chiefs were there, wanting to know: "What happened???"
I knew what the problem
was, so I checked all the sluice valves and found them to be closed (I
thought). Later, Chief Elvin J.
Rogers called me aside and told me the sluice valve between A-5 (oil) and A-7
(ballast-sea water) was stuck open.
When opening a valve all the way, you should then crack it back. I told the Chief Engineer, Rusty
Miller, what had happened, knowing he would have to make a full report to
Capt. Rommel..
Both fire rooms drawing
from the same tank--ship dead in the water--during wartime--during carrier
ops--I expected the worst!!!! I
stayed around the after fire room waiting for the call that never came. I never did find out what transpired
between Rusty Miller and the Capt., and I never asked.
STAN WHITE--WT
1/C
==================
MORE ON THE GROUNDING IN
BIZERTE
I played no role in the
grounding, and was just an interested observer. Before we entered the harbor, the CO
told me, he wanted the ship's boat put in the water, "SMARTLY." I said "Aye, Aye., Sir." Whatever he wanted, he got to the best
of our ability. Since I was in
charge of the mid-ships special sea detail, putting the boat in the water was
no big deal, especially with Bean, the boatswain mate around. I often wondered, whom the CO was
trying to impress, as there were only 2 British cans anchored in the far end
of the harbor and we were the first US ship in.
Any rate we slowed to
pickup the pilot, who came alongside in a rather non-descript small boat. We had the ladder rigged on the
starboard side and I welcomed him on board. I knew he couldn't speak English, and
sent him to the bridge with our messenger. Bean and I continued to stay on the
starboard side, having rigged the boat out for putting in the water, when we
anchored.
We picked up speed and
started in. In a minute or two,
the CO passed the word on the 1MC, for Joe Ponzi "to lay up to the bridge on
the double." Ponzi passed by
where we were standing, and asked me why the skipper wanted him and hoped he
wasn't in any trouble. I told
him, I thought the CO wanted him to interpret for the pilot, as he couldn't
speak English. Ponzi said, he
couldn't speak much French, and hoped the pilot understood Italian. A few more minutes went by, we
continued to pick up speed, perhaps to 10-12 kts. Suddenly a heavy set, red faced,
British officer, with 3 pips on his shoulders, came into view. He was standing on a small platform,
madly waving and yelling for us to move away. Just then, there was a rumble and
several big jolts right under our feet.
That's when, we ran aground.
It was a pretty awful feeling.
The reason why we were
close to the beach, there was a wrecked and partially sunken ship blocking the
entrance to the harbor. Also,
there were rather strong currents in and out of the harbor. The pilot just goofed, and there
wasn't anything the CO could have done to prevent the grounding. Perhaps the pilot was a
"Vichy"??
After we anchored, we put
the boat in the water. No one
cared, if we did it "smartly" or not.
The only thing that mattered, our status for the upcoming
invasion-which was now in grave doubt.
------------------------
COLLISION WITH THE CONVOY
COMMODORE'S SHIP
We were escorting a west
bound convoy and the Commodore was in charge. As we left Gib, he wanted to transfer
some important papers to the officer in charge of the convoy. In convoying, there was an overall
commander (usually called a TF Commander) and another officer, who was called
the "Convoy Commodore." He was in
charge of the ships being convoyed.
The weather was unusually nice, clear and the sea calm, except for long
heavy swells. I was the OOD on
the 12-1600 watch and the CO started his approach to the CC's ship. We were going to put our starboard bow
alongside his aft port quarter.
Budge Whiting and Henry Mobley and their deck gang had the heaving
lines, hi-lines, etc. ready and we slowly approached the stern of the other
ship (a tanker). Before we
started the CO told me to stand on the port wing of the bridge and be on the
"lookout for subs." I replied, I
thought I'd be of more use to him on the starboard wing, but he said the JOOD
would do. So I watched from the
port wing. For some reason,
Budge's gang had a hard time getting the heaving line over to the tanker. The
CO lost his temper and the air was "blue", which didn't help at all.
The CO gave the order to
our helmsman: "right 10 degrees, rudder", as we approached the port quarter of
the tanker. He got so involved
with Budge's problems, he forgot he had 10 degrees rudder on. I saw what was happening and ran
across the bridge to warn him. I was too late. In a few moments, our starboard bow
smashed into the side of the tanker.
It was a very heavy impact, fortunately it was a glancing blow. We slued around, lost all power, as
the main electrical board shorted out, ending up dead in the water. We started to bob around in the heavy
swells and got at right angles to the column of ships right behind the CC's
ship.
There are few things as
scary, as losing all power.
Everything on the ship went dead.
No engines, no steering, no Nothing!!!!
A moment or two after we
hit, the Commodore ran on to the bridge, to see what was happening. It only took him a second or two to
size up the situation. He went
over to the CO and put his hand on the CO's arm as said: " Freddie, just watch
out for those ships coming up astern."
Those few words, calmed things down-amazing. The CO wanted the Chief Engineer to
"lay up to the bridge." Like a
good Chief, Bayus was down at the electrical panels, working with his men to
fix things.
One of the cardinal rules
in convoying: "Don't go inside the convoy, if it can be
avoided."
Merchant ships just plow
ahead, without much regard, who or what is ahead. They weren't maneuverable and many
didn't have qualified officers (that is just how things were).
By this time the whole
crew was up on deck, wondering what had happened. The bridge gang was watching the
merchant ship bearing down on us-making no attempt to slow down, or change
course.
In the nick of time, the
engineering people restored the electrical power. We fired up the boilers, got back
steering control and away we went-back to the tanker and finished passing the
mail. No problems the second
time.
The tanker got a nice 6
foot round hole in its port quarter, caused by our starboard anchor. We lost the starboard anchor and a
shot of chain, plus a badly dented
bow and about 25 feet of life line and stanchions, and most important
"our dignity." Budge and his gang
had the job of fixing the stanchions and life lines.
This was the only time, I
ever saw the Commodore get involved in ship's work.
-----------------------
SURVIVORS OF THE
BUCK
Perhaps on the same convoy
as our mishap, our signalmen discovered that one of the ships in the convoy
had some survivors from the BUCK.
The BUCK had been the flagship for our Squadron (13) and had been sunk
in the Bay of Salerno, on Oct 9, 1943, with large loss of life. Signalmen are always alert for signals
from other ships. They happened
to train their glasses on this merchant ship and saw some men on deck, trying
to contact us by semaphore. They
answered and soon had a conversation going. It seemed that the BUCK's people
didn't feel that they were being treated properly by the transport's
personnel. They needed medical
treatment, better food, etc.
There were a goodly number of captured German soldiers on board (from
Rommel's Africa Corps) and these prisoners were getting better treatment than
the BUCK survivors.
The signalmen told me
about these msgs and I told them, "Come with me, we'll talk to the Commodore
and CO." The Commodore was very
interested in their story and asked them to get him more info, which they
did.
The Commodore thought
things over for a few minutes, and then told the CO to pull out of the screen
and go alongside the transport, which he did. I'm sure the CO of the transport was
very surprised to see us pull alongside.
The Commodore took the "bull horn" and ID'd himself and asked to speak
to the CO. He told that CO, in
blunt and in no uncertain words, what he had heard. The CO was lost for words. The Commodore told him: "He wanted
those BUCK people to get medical care, the very best quarters available, food
and anything else, within reason.
NO EXCUSES!!!! He would
monitor the situation and if there were any more complaints, the CO would get
another visit!!" The
CO assured the Commodore, he would look into everything and would take care of
it.
Our signalmen checked with
the BUCK people for the rest of the trip. Everything had improved to their
satisfaction and they were mighty grateful for the Commodore's intervention in
their behalf.
Incidentally, we had to go
alongside several other ships in the convoy and were surprised to see they
also had many Axis prisoners on board.
The prisoners all looked well fed and were happily waving at us as we
passed. From their actions, you'd
think they were going an a vacation cruise, instead of a POW camp in the
US. I'd guess they were relieved
to be out of the war and safe, with good food and a dry bunk. There must have been several thousand
prisoners on the ships. We
delivered all safe and sound to NY.
--------------------------
"CAPTURE" OF THE
AZORES
We were convoying to
Casablanca, the Commodore was the head man. As we had broken down before we
left Norfolk, the Commodore was on the SWANSON. One evening about 2200, I was
awaken by one of the radiomen on duty, who told me that there was an urgent
msg coming through for the us and the Commodore. I got dressed and went up to the radio
shack. Sure enough, so I went to
the code room to get things set up to decode. In a few minutes I got the coded msg
and started to decode it.
It was a "top secret" msg.
telling the Commodore to detach the WlILKES and the ROE to take possession of
the Azores Islands, on behalf of the Allies. I'd guess the very top officials in
Washington had negotiated the use of the islands as a base for refueling and
anti-sub warfare, with the Portuguese government. Our people, asked the Navy, "got
anyone near by?" They checked and
saw our convoy was the closest.
So we got elected.
I immediately woke up the
CO and we all had a long conference.
All this was right out of the blue. The Commodore decided to detach us early the next
morning. We both also topped off
our fuel and after that was done, we took off at 25 kts for Ponta Delgada, the
capital city and main port.
Since the CO of the ROE
was somewhat senior to our CO, he led the way and was in charge. That really graveled our CO, as he was
used to having the "flag" on board.
We arrived early the next morning. The local officials were very
surprised to see 2 US warships show up outside their port, wanting to come
in. Up to this point, Portugal
had been very neutral (or trying to be).
Within a short time they got their act together and made up a welcoming
committee. The ROE got the most
attention. We had a reception for
the mayor and other high officials.
The local PanAm reps came aboard.
As you might remember PanAm was the premier overseas air line at that
time. With the war, all flights
to Europe stopped and they were left isolated in the Azores. (I couldn't think of a nicer place to
be isolated). At any rate, they
were overjoyed to see fellow Americans and gave us a royal reception.
Some of us managed to get
ashore. It was a beautiful
place-very neat and clean. I
bought a few souvenirs. The best
jeweler in town had a gold Rolex
wrist watch for $250. I was very
tempted, but had left the money on the ship. It is hard to imagine a Rolex at that
price. With the war, nothing in
or out, and the locals didn't have that kind of money. I should have splurged, but $250 was a
large amount at that time.
Right after all the
festivities, we got another urgent msg.
Washington had intelligence information, that the Germans, having
discovered our coup, were planning to drop 1500 paratroopers in the vicinity
of Ponta Delgada. Their
instructions-FIGHT. So we got out
our "boarding party" people, broke out the .45's, BAR's, Thompson sub-machine
guns,etc. (Unbeknown to anyone,
the Allies had broken the top German code "ULTRA" and had immediate knowledge
of German plans).
That suited the CO. He always was spoiling for a
fight. In our invasions he always
wanted to have what he called the "Honorable Position." That meant, being right up
front!!! The whole ship seconded
that idea. Our job was to secure
the airfield and port. Looking
back, to expect the sailors of 2 cans to fight 1500 seasoned paratroopers, was
a bit far fetched, but the CO would have surely done his very best. Fortunately for the paratroopers, they
didn't come.
We stayed 2 days and by
that time the Allies got some planes and landed soldiers at the airport. A
British DE showed up to relieve us. With that, we took off after our
convoy. At 25 kts, it didn't take
too long and when we joined up, it felt good to be "home." We picked up the Commodore when we got
to North Africa.
Securing the Azores was
one of the more important steps in the War and certainly got the least publicity. It was all
done without any blood shed.
Fifty + years later, we are still reaping the benefits, of the actions
of 2 obscure "cans."
------------------------
TANGLING WITH A FISHING
FLEET
One of the lighter
moments, although at the time it happened, it could have been a serious
problem. It occurred about 2
nights out of Gib, going East,
with a large convoy. I was the
OOD, on the mid-watch 0000-0400, and still leading the way. The night was dark, the sea smooth,
with heavy swells, things very quiet. All of a sudden, the SG radar operator
reported a small object very near us.
Within a minute, he reported, more pips than he could count. I ran to our bridge repeater, and saw
a large number of tiny pips, headed right at us and the convoy right behind
us. I immediately called the CO
and he came out of his sea cabin, all sleepy eyed. I also rang the Commodore, who also
came up on the bridge. By this
time these tiny pips were right on top of us. No one could figure out -who or
what. But one thing was clear, we
had to find out the WHAT.
So the CO ordered the 24
inch search light turned on and the 5" guns be trained on the nearest
pip. Immediately we picked up a very small fishing boat --
then another and another. All of
a sudden they all turned on their running lights. It was like a hundred fireflies over
the sea, all bobbing in the swells.
There must have been 50 very small wooden fishing boats in this
group.
The Commodore called the
Convoy Commodore on the TBS, so the ships would be alert to the boats. They all passed right through the
convoy, everyone missed them.
We figured they were
Spanish fishing boats, going out for their catch. The Commodore also thought it possible
they were scouting for the Germans, and we might get a sub attack. (At the time Spain was very much in
sympathy with the Axis). So he
ordered all escorts to be on full alert.
The rest of the night passed peacefully.
You have to admire the
courage of these fishermen, going to sea in such small wooden boats, at the
height of the war.
-------------------------
LICATA-SICILY
Since the official logs,
etc. of the invasion have been covered, it might be of interest to recount
some of the events. We had a very
successful invasion. We had been
very lucky at our beach head, as the next one (GELA) caught a lot more enemy
resistance. The MADDOX (DD 622)
was sunk on "D" Day- July 10. An
ammo ship was hit and blew up in a spectacular explosion, which we could see
from Licata, later the same day.
Several cruisers got hit and damaged. So we were on the alert for a big air
raid that never came. However,
the enemy came with sporadic air raids, that resulted in the loss of the LST
313 and some other close calls.
After we secured from GQ,
the CO wisely put us on Condition 2 (watch and watch)- 4 hours on and 4 hours
off, for the next few days. Henry
Mobley and I shared the duty as AA battery officer on the 40MM mounts, and
also controlled the 20MM guns. I
had come off watch and Henry had the 2000-2400 watch. I had gone to the coding room, as
there were a lot of "hot" msgs for the Commodore, to be decoded. I had gotten some done, and was
banging away on the "jeep" (the name we gave the electric coding machine),
when I heard a large explosion. I
immediately started to shut down and secure the machine and code room. I figured we'd go to GQ. I had all my gear with me, so I ran up
towards my GQ station at the forward 20MM mounts. Before I could get there, there was a
rattle of fire from the aft 20MM gun port side. By the time I got out where I could
see, there was just a glow in the water, close to the ship.
The next thing I heard was
the CO calling me to "lay up to the bridge, on the double." So I turned around and ran up on the
bridge, to see what was going on and what the CO wanted. He started yelling
"What's going on? Who gave the
orders to fire? I'm the only one
around here, who can give the order to fire!!!!" I told him, I was in the code room and
didn't know anything, but I'd go and find out. He said: " Put that ___ on report!!!
and get back here pronto."
So I ran down to the aft
port-20MM gun to see what was going on.
I found Henry Smith still at the gun. Smitty was a very well trained
gunner. I asked what was going
on. He said after the plane
dropped the first bombs and missed, he ran up to the gun. That gun wasn't manned, but the CO had
wisely given instructions that a full magazine be left on the gun, so it could
be used at a moments notice. Also
the pedestal was left up, so all he had to do, was unlock the lock, take the
safety off and the gun was fully usable.
He said he saw the bomber turn around and come back for another
run. Since no one was doing
anything, he decided to open fire and he DID!!! He hit and SPLASHED it.
By this time the CO had
turned the ship around and came back over the area, where the plane had gone
in, looking for any survivors.
There weren't any. All
there was left, a very strong odor of avgas.
I told Smitty he did a
great job and should get a medal, in my opinion, but the CO wanted me to put
him on report, but I wouldn't do it.
So back to the bridge on the double. I related to the CO what I had
learned. He asked if I had put
Smitty on report. I told him
NO. He said: "Why not?" I told him, I thought he deserved a
medal for saving the ship. If he
wanted Smitty on report, he should do it, as I wouldn't. That didn't go over
very well. So I went back to
decoding the msgs.
The next day, a swastika
was painted on both side of the wings of the bridge, to go along with our
other exploits. Nothing more was
said about putting Smitty on report.
He never got his medal, or any official thanks, that I know of.
In my humble opinion
Smitty saved the ship that night.
The bomber missed once, but to miss twice? It is too bad Smitty couldn't be with
us now.
------------------------
BRAVE
CIVILIANS
In the many years since
the War ended, very little attention has been given to the many very brave and
dedicated Aussie and native men, who served as "coast watcher", along the
coast of New Guinea, the Solomons, New Ireland, New Britain, and in many small
and remote places, you never heard of before or since the War.
These coast watchers
performed very valuable services in giving the Allied forces early warning of
Jap air raids heading their way. They also watched for ship, barge and sub
movements and reported them by radio to Brisbane (as I recall). Most of these were men, who had won
the trust of the native population, and had lived in the area prior to the
War. The enemy tried hard to find
them and when they did, executed them.
Every day, all Allied
Commanders would get an intelligence summary. In this msg, there was always a
summary of the info received from the coast watchers. Every now and again, there would be a
reference to a "missing" watcher.
The Commodore and CO always wanted to see these msgs. as soon as they
were decoded, as they wanted to keep abreast of the war in our area.
BILL
MOSHER
=================
MEMORIES OF A
SONARMAN
I was on the ship from
August '43 to Dec '45. When I
first arrived on board, I was a 17 year old SOM 3/c (Sonarman), and just out
of Fleet Sonar School. I did 3
convoys to Gibraltar from Hampton Roads with the “Wolf”, between Aug and Dec
'43. While we were in the
Atlantic, our home yard, was the Brooklyn Navy Yard. When we were in the Yard, The Wolf
would bring the most gorgeous gals on board. As I remember, some of them were Kate
Smith and Mickey Dodge. I heard
that he was a personal friend of John Powers, who owned the famous Powers Model Agency.
I want the reader to
understand, from the outset, what I relate, must be taken in the proper
context. The "Wolf" was a valiant
warrior. Like all of us he had
his faults, but on the whole, he was a man who acted. He did not falter in doing what he
thought was the best course of action.
I now look back fondly at some of the experiences I shared with
him.
The news that we were
going to the SW Pacific was not happy news!!! I think it was hard on the Wolf (if
you had seen these young ladies, that would be an understatement). In the New Guinea area we did a lot of
shore bombardments and escort work--sort of routine at times. It was during this period the Wolf
would get ashore on occasion and visit the local Army hospital. Yep--you guessed it, he would
return to the ship, in time for dinner, with a couple of nurses. They were not Power's models, but they
were female and the Navy chow
beat Army food any day. Along
with some clean clothes, a shower and a sit down movie, made a very nice
evening for them. After a while
the late suppers began to interfere with the start of the evening movie on the
fantail. If you started too late,
the nightly rain would wash it out.
The crew grew a bit sour on this situation.
About this time, my
leading PO, decided I should get the job of Special Sea Detail and GQ
helmsman. What did an 18 year old
know about a "set-up", when he was getting into one? Nothing!! The first time I was the helmsman, we
were making an approach on a Navy tanker, which was anchored. The CO had the Conn and I had the
"wheel" and my mentor was standing behind me. As we were approaching, I could see
the angle was too sharp. Unless
there was a course change, we were going to hit. The CO didn't change course in
time. He stopped the engines,
then he tried backing. TOO
LATE. We slid down the side of
the tanker, with a mighty BANG!!
The tanker skipper came bounding out on his bridge raising hell. The CO came charging into the pilot
house. I thought I was dead,
because the air was "blue" regarding my past and heredity. My mentor quickly replied (I think,
trying to suppress a smile): "Captain, the helmsman was steering the course
given. I was watching." The CO
spun around and went out on to the wing of the bridge and began talking to the
other skipper. He happened to be
an Annapolis classmate of the CO.
Whew, were we lucky???
This is not the end of the
tale. About a week later, almost
to the day, we returned from taking a few floating box cars (LST's) up to some
island. We were going alongside
the same tanker, in the same spot.
Whomever said lightning never strikes twice, in the same place, didn't
know the WILKES. Same
circumstances, the CO with the Conn, me at the wheel and my mentor standing
behind me. On the first episode,
I will never forget seeing the crew on the fo'csle, running in panic, when
they saw what was going to happen.
This time, when they saw us coming, these guys were shaking their fists
as they ran from the bow area.
They knew, what I knew..... we were going to do it again!!! We did!!! This time, we really did it up
royally. We lost our port anchor
and a goodly number of rivets were sheered on both ships. The other skipper was jarred out of
his bunk, and he was sure a "happy man" when he came on the bridge. He yelled at the CO " Hey, Wolsieffer,
are you really trying to sink me?"
Again the CO burst into the pilot house, turning the air "blue", again
questioning my education and heredity.
My mentor, with a twinkle in his eye said: " But Captain, the helmsman
was right on course he was given."
The CO turned and retreated to the bridge wing, to negotiate with the
other skipper, the number of bottles this would cost
him.
Immediately after each of
these events, the CO came over to me, put his arm around me and said he was
sorry. Also, I was not
responsible for what had happened.
I thought these actions on his part, were quite decent. Well, to make a long story short, we
never hit another ship 'cause I caught wise to the game. I started making last minute course
adjustments, when we were going alongside another ship. I realized this is what my mentor and
all his predecessors had done.
Perhaps it is my conjecture, I might had been used by the "boys" to get
even for the late movies.
We had just supported an
invasion of another Jap held island and the CO got in very close, to support
the Army soldiers on the beach. A
Jap machine gunner took exception to us being in close and firing on his
buddies, so he opened up with his 50 caliber machine gun. The gunner raked the port side of the
WILKES. He hit the headband of
the JA phones on either a torpedoman or a 20MM gunner. It crimped the headband and knocked
the man down. I heard later, he
headed towards the fantail, sans shoes, which somehow came off when he got
hit. Another crew member sitting
on a pyrotechnics locker on the back of the bridge, had one of the slugs go
between his calves and the box, denting the box severely. There were other holes in the stacks,
etc. The crew was a "little bent"
about this event, thinking the CO was playing a little too dangerously with
us. But....that was the CO. If there was no action, he created
some.
Another event of interest,
we were anchored in a harbor in New Guinea area. We needed ammo and was scheduled to
load that morning. Most of the
ammo ships were civilian manned, some US, some Aussie. At 0730, the CO had the signalman
blinker the merchant ship to tell him we were coming alongside. The merchant ship replied "Don't come
alongside until after 0800, as we don't start work before that time." This reply really aggravated him, and
he said: "Don't they know there is a war going on out here??" So he ordered us to up anchor and get
underway to go alongside the ammo ship.
As I recall, it was about 0750 when we got alongside the port side of
ammo ship. There was as
wicked a ground swell, as I had
ever seen, which was pushing us towards the other ship. He ordered the heaving lines be
thrown, as there were seaman on deck.
I remember well, they were sitting atop those huge bits on the bow and
they kept their backs to us. They
never made a move to take the lines or help. As a result, we really hit the side of
the merchant ship. With the
ground swells rocking us so badly, we damaged the 40MM mount on the starboard
side. There may have been some
damage below-I don't remember.
After the first slap
against the ammo ship, the Commodore must have been jarred out of his
rack. He came flying up to the
bridge and began questioning the Captain. He apparently didn't like the answers
and said he was going below to inspect the damage. He also told the CO to take
the ship out to sea.
There were a few more
problems, especially with the late movies. The CO agreed to change this but he
did put in some new rules for the crew.
These weren't too popular, but the crew played the game. All hands had to salute the CO every
time you met him. Hats had to be
worn at all times-no exceptions.
Officers had to be saluted on the first encounter each day. He had white lines painted on the
quarter deck. No one was allowed
in that area, unless on watch.
Man, the crew saluted everything that moved. That "killed" the officers. The CO believed a disciplined ship was
a happy ship.
Anyway, time passed and I
served with two other skippers.
Both were great guys also.
The first is now deceased and the second is living not too far from
me. I saw him at our reunion in
Norfolk-great to see him again. I
was his helmsman too.
After my discharge, I went
to college and got real educated.
While in college, I remained active in a pay billet as a Naval Reserve
instructor. Upon graduation, my
CO recommended me for a commission as an Ensign. Acting in that capacity, I was
Communications Officer in the Naval Reserve Armory in Yonkers, NY. We had an annual 3rd Naval District
Inspection in either l957 or 1958.
Who should be the Inspecting Officer, but the WOLF? As he passed by me, he went a few
steps, turned and came back and asked: "Don't I know you?" I replied, "Yes Captain, I was your
helmsman on the WILKES." He shook
my hand repeatedly and said, "It is so good to see you again." I know, I must have had a tear in my
eye as he walked away. I thought,
will I ever see him again?
Unfortunately, I never did.
I think he was a man that was real NAVY and I do believe he had a big
heart underneath. He was a great
one in my book and I would never hesitate to sail with him. It is a great satisfaction to know he
retired as an Admiral. Now I can
say I served and worked very closely with Admiral Frederick
Wolsieffer!!!
JOHN "JACK" SHUTTY--sonar man and
helmsman
===================
SCORES DON'T
COUNT
Capt. Somers was a
Lieutenant, senior grade and gunnery officer, when I came aboard in 1942. I was a green FC 3/c (fire
controlman), who had never been to sea.
I had just graduated from the Fleet Fire Control School, in San
Diego. My rate was given to me,
but I felt I hadn't earned it.
I came to the Navy from a
small post office, where I was a clerk.
I was given my school assignment, after taking the tests all boots are
given. My worst scores were in
math and electricity, so naturally I was headed for fire control school. I joined the WILKES in the Brooklyn
Navy Yard. Cdr. Wolsieffer was
the CO and Patterson was the first class, later Chief.
After the war, I was
discharged in 1945 and being single, patriotic and dumb, enlisted in an
inactive, non-pay reserve unit. I
was recalled in 1950 for Korea and served on the USS SKAGIT (AKA 105) and LST
838. Unlike my time on the
WILKES, we never fired a shot in anger and I was discharged again in
1952.
ED KRAUSE --FC
1/c
===============
IN
MEMORIAM
One of the jobs of the
editor, is to research to see what happened to various crew members. It was my sad duty to find the OBT of
Rear Admiral Frederick Wolsieffer in the Dec 29, 1968 edition of the New York
Times. Since he was so central in
our lives for a long time, I see no more fitting place than under "Sea
Stories"
"Admiral Frederick Wolsieffer, a former
intelligence aide. Rear Admiral
Frederick Wolsieffer died yesterday at the St. Albans Naval Hospital in
Queens. He was 60 years old and
lived at 75 Knightsbridge Rd, Great Neck, L.I. Admiral Wolsieffer retired in 1957, as
Director of Naval Intelligence for the Third Naval District and Assistant
Chief of Staff for Naval Intelligence for the Eastern Sea Frontier. Afterwards he worked as a personnel
consultant. From 1962-1963, he
was General Manager of the New York World's Fair division of the Pinkerton
National Detective Agency. He is
survived by his widow, the former Bettie Ryan and a daughter,
Robyn."
It is too bad that he
didn't live to join us in our reunions and to renew all
friendships.
----------------------------
There are very few copies
of the WILKES news letters in existence.
Some material from the April 22, 1945 edition-our 4th
anniversary.
MESSAGE FROM THE
CAPTAIN:
"I'm happy. She's mighty pretty, every inch a
beauty, curves, nice smooth round bottom, well-stacked, bulges in the right
places, and when she gets all steamed up, she's a hot baby to
handle.
I am proud. Proud of the record of the WILKES,
proud of the attitude and spirit and ability of the officers and men, proud of
the appearance of our ship.
We all want the same
thing--a happy ship, and an efficient ship to annihilate the enemy, when we
get the opportunity. Let's give
'em Hell."
H. F.
ROMMEL
Lieutenant Commander, U.
S. Naval Reserve
Commanding U.S.S.
WILKES
SHIP'S ANNIVERSARY
MENU---FOURTH ANNIVERSARY -- APRIL 22, 1945
FRUIT COCKTAIL
RICE TURKEY SOUP
ROAST "YOUNG TOM"
TURKEY
BAKED VIRGINIA HAM
SAGE DRESSING
CRANBERRY SAUCE
GIBLET GRAVY
MASHED POTATOES BUTTERED
PEAS
PARKER HOUSE
ROLLS
ICE CREAM
CHERRY
PIE
ICE TEA
CIGARETTES
CIGARS
E.J. SIMMONS, COMMISSARY
OFFICER
------------------------
THE HAPPY HOUR ON THE
FORECASTLE
STARS
MUSIC
DANCING
MASTER OF
CERMONIES
"COMM
KELLEY"
Starts at 1800
Movie starts at 1900
22 April
1945
========================
REMEMBRANCE OF A TORPEDO
MAN
I was transfered to the
WILKES in June 1943, and was on board until late in 1944, when I left the ship
while we were still in New Guinea.
When I hit the ship, I was barely 17 and right out of "boot camp." Until I got to 'boot camp" I had never
been out of rural Ohio. Coming to
the WILKES was a whole new experience to me, as it was to my other
shipmates. It is something I have
always remembered.
As soon got on board I was
put right to work in the torpedo gang.
I remember "diving the tubes".
This means crawling into the empty tubes-after the fish were taken out
and putting a lubricant inside the tubes. This was part of our standard
maintenance. Needless to say,
this was a very dirty and undesirable job. Wetherbee, the leading torpedo man,
would say " If you don't do it right, I'll have the Captain suddenly change
course and you'll go over board."
Of course, I knew he was only kidding, but I never took any
chances.
Crossing the equator--The
SHELLBACK initiation is one of my best memories. It is hard to believe what we had to
go through that day. A SHELLBACK
was a sailor, who had crossed the equator. Until you were a SHELLBACK, you were a
POLLWOG and didn't amount to much-a rookie-or worse. There was a somewhat brutal initiation
in store for us, POLLYWOGS. There
was nothing but complete chaos that day.
I had never seen so many naked men in one place in my life. My initiation had me scrubbing the
deck with my tooth brush. All the
SHELLBACKS (there weren't many) were walking around giving any and every one
they ran into H----!!I I was
afraid of anyone who even got close to me. John Mercer had a cow prod hooked to a
dry cell battery. He was going
around shocking all the POLLYWOGS, he could find. It hurt!!! I wanted to take my skinny a-- below
deck and hide-but I couldn't.
During my first 3 months
on board, I didn't have a "rack" (bunk) of my own. After my watch was over, I took
someone else's rack (called a "hot rack") and tried to get some sleep. There were times when some of the
crew, including myself would sleep on the steel deck under the torpedo
tubes. It was too hot to sleep
below and we were always going to GQ anyways. One day we took on a wounded man, who
subsequently died. Unknown to me,
( I was asleep) he was tied up in a canvas bag and the body put under the
tubes. The next morning I woke up
and found the dead man's body laying next to me. I had never been concerned about
sleeping under the tubes, but seeing that dead body, really shook me up.
When we were on liberty in
Pearl Harbor, I decided to get my first tattoo. While I was in the tattoo parlor, I
looked out and saw Wetherbee and Dilday coming by on Shore Patrol. I looked
like a mess, with blood running down my arm and it hurt like the devil. They spotted me and came into the
shop. They both gave me
H----!!! Dilday said "I told you
never get a tattoo, Collier"!!!!!
When I came up for
reassignment, I didn't want to go back to the States, but I didn't have any
say in that. Luckily, I was
assigned to the U. S. S. ANTIETAM (CV 36). After being on the carrier, I knew
that being a "tin can sailor", was the best duty of my four years in the Navy
and some of the best times of my life.
GERALD E. COLLIER
--Torpedoman
==================
The following are excerpts
from a letter from Admiral Kelsey To John Mercer dated Feb 14,
1992.
"Following graduation from
the Naval Academy, I spent a year in the Colorado (BB 45) and then got sent to
the GOFF (DD 247). I got 2 jobs I
didn't want when I reported on aboard, Commissary Officer and Ass't
Engineer. Fortunately I took them
both seriously because a poor commissary steward could get your tail in a
bight and while I knew quite a bit about the individual components of an
engineering plant, I wanted to learn how they all tied together and what tied
them together on this particular ship.
Five or six months later we were out of Pearl, scheduled to get
underway at 0800, when at 0530, a messenger woke me up and told me I was now
Chief Engineer. My boss had been
taken to the hospital with a kidney stone attack. So, as I like to say, I went down to
the engine room with the Manual of Engineering Instructions in one hand and
prayer book in the other. Fortunately, I had a good chief machinist mates, who
got things going.
I stayed in that job for 4
1/2 years and became a pretty good operating engineer-- rebuilding boiler
fronts, scraping in wiped bearings, etc.
I also learned that the chiefs were pretty hide bound and couldn't be
persuaded that a few changes would result in better performance, unless you
made them believe it was their idea in the first place.
In those days-- the 20's
-- the Engineer also stood OOD watches underway and I became a good ship
handler. With all that
engineering, I applied for engineering P.G., got it, spending one year at the
P.G. School at the Naval Academy and the second year at Columbia
University. Going
back to sea I was assigned as Senior Assistant Engineer of the 4-pipe light
cruiser RALEIGH (CL 7), then flagship of the Atlantic Fleet Destroyer
force. The RALEIGH was really
just an oversized destroyer, with more boilers, more horsepower and Curtis
turbines, rather than the Parson type.
Both the Chief Engineers I had, came from subs. They knew a lot about diesels but
little about steam turbine plants.
So I had pretty much a free hand in running the Department.
I then went to shore duty
in '34, as Ass't Inspector of Machinery at the Fore River plant of Bethlehem
Steel. They had just wound up
building several FARRAGUT class DD's and had started building 4 PORTER class,
destroyer leaders. These
were beautiful sea boats intended to be used as squadron flagships. My job was to make sure that all
shipyard manufactured machinery, boiler, pipelines, etc. were properly made
and installed in the ship. To do
this I was assisted by 3 or 4 civil service inspectors. I went back to sea , as Chief Engineer
of the 3rd ship, of this class, the USS MOFFETT (DD 362). After a year, I was made Squadron
Engineer of a squadron of FARRAGUT class DD's and rode in the squadron
flagship, the USS PHELPS (DD 360). This was the first DL built at Fore
River. I came ashore in '39 and
became Shop Supt. at the Navy Yard, Charleston (Boston), from whence I went to
the WILKES. So, all but 3 years
of my post-Academy career had been involved with DD's.
On Dec 7th, the WILKES was
busily engaged in escorting a convoy and were about 600 miles south of Iceland, headed for MOMP (mid-ocean
meeting point), where we would turn the convoy over to the British. At about that time, there had been a
terrible storm up at Valfjord, where we would go for voyage repairs and
refueling. The weather up there
wasn't very good at its best, but this particular storm had driven some ships
aground. So we were diverted to
Londonderry. As we approached
Loch Foyle (the entrance to Londonderry), we experienced heavy showers, that
washed most of the salt and grime off us. We soon got a signal from the Brits,
saying Admiral King would board us at the entrance. The only Adm. King, I knew, was our
Adm King, who was CinC, Atlantic Fleet.
However, this Admiral King turned out to be an Admiral (D)--boss of the
British Destroyers. He came
aboard accompanied by a young Lieutenant, who was to be our "honorary pilot",
going through the Loch and up the River Foyle. As we approached the quay, where we
were going to berth at Londonderry, he said "OK Captain, she's all
yours." Fine, but there were 4
destroyer types moored ahead of our designated berth and 4 more astern, with
just room enough in between to take the WILKES. This wasn't the easiest landing to
make. But I was lucky enough to
get the bow in just astern of the forward ship, get a forward spring line over
and let the river current swing the ship in to exactly the right
position. That landing and the
ship's fine appearance impressed the British very much.
The ship that rammed us
just north of the Cape Cod Canal was part of a convoy that we were not told
about. Oddly enough, the same
watch was on the bridge, as was at the time of the grounding.
After we were
commissioned, I gave the engineers plenty of dock trials before we ever got
underway. We had a lot of drills
in paralleling the generators and cutting them in and out. I wanted us to be good, when we
actually went to sea.
Healthwise, I am not doing
too badly for a 90 year old gaffer.
JOHN KELSEY--Rear
Admiral---First CO of the WILKES
=====================
Memory plays tricks and we
remember pieces. I wish I had
kept a diary, but that was forbidden.
I remember my first day on
board. I had flown from San Diego
on a beautiful Pan Am clipper with bunks. I was a bridegroom, and we had gone
across country on a train on our honeymoon. To go back a little, I had served
on the USS OKLAHOMA (BB 37), until she was sunk. I then went to the USS GRIDLEY (DD380)
for 3 years, working my way up from Ensign to Executive Officer. I had only 30 days in the States and
only 10 days leave over 3 years.
Then to Sound School and then to "command a destroyer." I was ecstatic. I got the name of the ship while at
Sound School (the WILKES).
We were preparing to get
underway to patrol the entrance, while the battleship we were to escort West,
sortied. Word came to the bridge
that the steering engine didn't work.
I sent a message to the battleship, that we were delayed and would join
them in about an hour. The crew
was a bit upset. But to me it was
routine. I had come from a
destroyer where we had been out too long and were a bit Asiatic and things
frequently didn't work. The
steering engine was fixed and the whale boat went to the buoy to cast
off. I forget now whether the
boat conked out and the crew had to paddle back or the hoist failed and the
boat had to be hoisted by hand (or both), but the officers on the bridge were
in a "state." It didn't bother me
and we got underway.
On the way West, we had to
refuel from the battleship. The
McCALL (DD 400) had tried and failed and was sent to Ulithi to refuel. While we were patrolling ahead of the
battleship, I had been trying different courses and found one, which I
liked. I told the battleship if
they would take that course, I would try it. While we were alongside, I could see
the blister going under and coming awash as the BB rolled. What an ass I was, showing off and
jeopardizing the ship! But
Schutty, the helmsman, did a magnificent job and we made
it.
You must remember, I was,
in some ways quite inexperienced.
I remember asking one skipper of my previous ship, if he would let me
take her alongside for fueling.
He said "Herb, I would like to, but I haven't had enough experience to
get us out of a hole, if you had trouble."
I was scared only
once. It was during the June
typhoon that Halsey ran us through.
The one that knocked the bow off the PITTSBURGH (CA72). We were properly ballasted (Halsey
lost 3 destroyers the previous December because they had been ordered to
prepare to refuel and were not ballasted). The ship would come to the crest of
the gigantic wave, quiver and bend in the middle, and then come crashing down
the wave. I thought of the men in
the engine room. We used the
engines to keep her headed into the waves and were making barely
steerageway. I was not sure we
would make it. We had only minor
damage. We may have lost a
boat.
There was just one period
of intense action and danger. The
days on Radar Picket station. You
will remember there were two destroyers, which would race in a circle around
three or so small craft, in the center (to pick up survivors). We were attacked by kamikazes twice,
and while we and the other destroyer fired at them and may have caused them to
miss us, I really think they were inexperienced pilots, who just missed. They did crash close aboard. Of course, we were not easy targets,
as we were at full power and maneuvering. One night when we had a contact, we
heard what we thought was a torpedo exploding at the end of its run. After one night action, we found US
seaplane (PBM) floating nearby (I thought we might have shot it down; but we
didn't), and were preparing to tow it, when a tug appeared and took
over.
One clear memory I have is
the visit to Guam. We had to go
into a floating dry-dock to have the sonar repaired (had I gone too fast with
the dome down?). We had a bit too
much speed crossing the sill of the dry-dock and they just got her stopped,
before we would have crashed out the other end.
I made a whale boat trip
to visit a nurse-a friend of my wife-and when we got back, the ship was gone
(she had been anchored out). You
can say that is another time I was scared. We proceeded to the inner harbor and
there she was-just shifted berths.
I had visions of an emergency assignment without me. That would be a little hard to
explain.
When VJ Day came, we were
ordered to take photos for publicity.
We had orders to Tokyo Bay, but those orders were changed and we wound
up with a replenishment group in Korea.
We use to say, the floating mines would go down at night, as we never
saw or hit any. But during the
day, we found several. I loved to
shoot at them. We used 40MM until
the Commodore ordered me to stop wasting ammunition. We used a 50 cal machine gun, which
some enterprising crew member had acquired and mounted above the bridge. We also used rifle fire. Some of the mines would sink, when
hit. We would get closer to the
next one, which would explode and shower us with shrapnel.
We had a wonderful picnic
on the island of I To, using landing craft from the oiler. We had a visit to the tender in Jinsen
and we charged up the river. I
was not used to operating in restricted waters. Ashore, rum cokes-- 5
cents.
At sea, we had one of the
more harrowing experiences (for me).
We were with one or more CVE's and had a screen of, perhaps 4
ships. Capt. Brodie on the WILKES
was unit commander. One night we
did a change of course of about 180 degrees. Anything over 170 degrees, you went
through, and not around the screened ships. We reversed course and were headed for
our new station, when the Commodore, who was in CIC watching the radar screen,
said I had better come right (the PIPS were merging). I started to come right, realized we
would not make it and came left again.
We passed the CVE so close you could hear them talking on deck. (that's
close)!!!!
All good things come to an
end, and soon POINTS became the topic of the day and they changed almost
daily. The XO, Mike Raworth (I
later visited him in Natchez, when on a Delta Queen vacation; he is dead now)
and a few chiefs had the points and left us on a Liberty Ship in Korea. Their ship took the Great Circle route
home. A few days later, we got
our orders to return and we beat them.
We stopped in Pearl to get more passengers and headed for San
Diego.
At San Diego, I had never
made a landing alongside a pier.
All engines back 1/3; all engines back 2/3; all engines back
FULL!! There was a hurdy gurdy
playing music to welcome us back and I remember it chasing us down the
pier. Fortunately, I had the good
luck to stop the engines, before we backed out, just as fast as we came
in. We shuddered to a stop a few feet from some mine
vessels, moored ahead of us. A
PERFECT LANDING, and you all thought I had planned it that way.
In San Diego someone (I
wish I could claim credit for it) came up with the idea of giving 30 days
leave and to join the ship in Charleston, provided the man agreed to remain on
board, until the ship was decommissioned. As a result, we had a strong crew to
put the ship out of commission.
When the powers that be wanted to transfer our men to a ship which was
short handed, we could just show that the men had the points and would go out,
rather than go to another ship.
We stopped at Panama on
our way home and picked up more passengers. One of them was a Chief Boatswain's
mate, who had been a 3rd class, when I was a seaman in the Reserves
1934-38. Fortunately I had gotten
a commission via correspondence course and an exam.
At Charleston my bride had
given up Army-Navy game tickets to be waiting on the dock for us. One of the officers from another ship,
who had gotten ashore before me told my wife. "See the sun glistening on those oars,
he won't be in for awhile; come to the club and have a
drink."
At Charleston, we had
another good idea (which backfired on me). Men were to be discharged at the
Receiving Station, nearest the ship.
There was a long wait in Charleston. Upon request we would grant leave to a
man, to report, upon expiration, to the station nearest his home. He waived travel money, which he would
have received if he had been discharged in Charleston. One man put in for travel money and I
heard about it.
Finally that sad day came
and we hauled down the flag. We
had put the ship out of commission in fine condition, thinking she would be
used again. This was not to
be!!!!
To have Command of a
destroyer in wartime. THAT IS THE
ULTIMATE. I HAVE BEEN MUCH
BLESSED!!!
HERB
ROMMEL--Skipper