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.