HOT SHELLMEN

Hot shellmen were only necessary on the single open 5" guns. On the twin turrets (gun houses) the ready ammunition was stored in the handling room beneath the mount and passed up by hoist to the loaders. Empty brass was ejected to the outside by way of a chute.
After my transfer from 3rd to 2nd division I was assigned only briefly to a twin mount. In my opinion it was a very undesirable battle station. Closed up with almost no room to move around, I was happy to be transferred to an open mount, gladly giving up the protection of the gun house armor for fresh air and visibility.
Initially assigned as powder man I was asked to take the hot shellman position after a man had been transferred and I was tall enough for the job.
Of all the positions in a 5" gun crew, hot shellman was the one nobody wanted. There was no way to practice on the loading machines, the dummy powder case wasn’t ejected, only rolled out the side of the machine. Also, since the empty brass was hot enough to cause third degree burns, most men would just as soon not deal with anything that hot flying out of the breech. You could only gain experience when the gun was actually firing.
The case was ejected with considerable force and sometimes because of burning grease or residue powder it was like a ball of fire. Using elbow length asbestos gloves we deflected it away from the exposed powder cases in the ready box. There was also a danger it could hit the ammo passers or roll around under foot.
When the firing keys were closed for rapid fire, the first shellman, in effect, fired the gun when he pulled the ramming lever. Watching old Rosie (Ralph Rosenfeld) provided a second or two lead time to get set and tuned in to the ram/fire sequence. In any event, I learned to catch the cases and throw them in a corner or the flaming ones over the side. Once anyone mastered this role he was "type cast" and nobody was after his job.
We had a Mark 51 director (the same kind used with the 40MM’s) installed in 1944 that could control both Mt 6 and 8 singly or paired. I don’t ever remember using it (although we may have) but we had a man assigned to it. He was an older draftee who had come aboard in late 1944. He was maybe as old as forty but ancient to us and as you would expect, we called him Pops or Gramps. He was a short and stocky easy going man and although all of us young smart asses teased him, we all liked him

Emily Splash "oh oh, our search planes have discovered an enemy search plane..."

It was around Okinawa and we were at battle stations. Just moments before, the main fire controller gave the order to "match pointers and switch to automatic". All the starboard guns were firing and apparently radar had detected a target further out on the port side. I grabbed a powder case to hand up to the loader before taking my position on the deck behind the gun carriage and wait for the order to fire. The gun was moving jerkily when I looked up at Pops. He was high enough, being on the Mark 51, that he could see across the flight deck. He was pointing up to starboard like he was in a trance. I moved out a little to see what he was pointing at and saw a kamikaze a few seconds away coming from the starboard side in a steep dive. The starboard guns had hit him but didn’t stop him. No time to even pray. As I hit the deck he exploded close along side the ship. HE MISSED! I saw a geyser of water and black smoke just a little forward of us and I remember seeing pieces of the plane including a wheel flying up in the air.
We never did get the order to fire at whatever the director was tracking. Things quieted down and I thought I would smoke a cigarette but my hands were shaking so much I was having trouble getting it out of the pack so I said the hell with it.

CVE’s and Atolls

I can’t tell you too much about the CVE’s because we never operated with them. They were too slow and I believe most were used to transport aircraft although some were used as combat carriers and suffered heavy damage and sinkings in the Pacific battles. I do know this much, their crews were proud of their ships and have reunions today just as we do.
I fully expected to be assigned to a CVE and would have been satisfied had it happened.
When my name was called out on the draft I thought the yeoman was being a smart ass. I understood him to answer "New York Special" when we asked where we were going.
Most Navy ships and stations in WW2 existed to support the fast carrier strike force. We knew that and confess to feeling a trace of condescension when we came in contact with some of the support ships. We could sometimes sense a bit of resentment on the part of those crews. It didn’t bother us, we had our jobs to do and they had theirs. Almost all of our crew had brothers or boyhood friends serving on these ships as well as all other branches of the military.
While we may have sometimes felt a tinge of condescension we also had a respect and admiration for other ships that kept us humble. I felt privileged to be in the same force with Enterprise. In the war from the beginning, she had been battered, bloodied and was the sole survivor of her class, but there she was, a proud old girl still ready to fight and sailing out with us (or us with her) to hit the Japs. I had read about her exploits before I joined the Navy. Also South Dakota, Washington and numerous other cruisers and destroyers who fought in some of the bloody surface battles early in the war and are now a part of our task force. I felt honored to be with them.
We considered shore duty on one of the recently captured islands the worst possible assignment. The threat of transfer to an island was often used to keep us in line. This usually meant exile until the end of the war. However, like any other duty there were advantages here. These men often had access to fleet stores and provisions as well as beer and sometimes liquor. They quickly devised ways to supply themselves with any food or drink they wanted and were able to use supply boats for sport and recreation.
The atolls that we operated from, Majuro, Eniwetok and Ulithi all looked the same. A circle of small coral islands enclosing a lagoon fifteen to twenty miles in diameter with water depths suitable for anchoring. They were not visible from twenty or so miles at sea. There were palm trees on those islands that hadn’t been bombarded by our ships prior to the invasion. Those that had were desolate and completely denuded of foliage.
The water in the lagoons was absolutely clear and when the surface was smooth it was sometimes possible to see the bottom. To enter the lagoon from the open sea it was necessary to find an opening in the coral reef surrounding the atoll. I don’t know if this opening was natural or blasted and dredged.
Whenever we were in a lagoon we usually had a major portion of the fleet with us. If you had a relative or friend on another ship you were allowed to visit and spend the day with him.
Darken ship regulations were relaxed and we could leave the hangar deck curtains up at night for movies and other activities and to smoke on the weather decks. This was important to our crew because the dangers of smoking were not fully known and the vast majority of our crew were smokers.
Our band of ten or twelve musicians set up nightly on the hangar deck and played the popular music of the era. They really sounded good and brought to mind all the good times past.
We were also allowed to swim off the side of the ship but only at special designated times when a couple of our marines with rifles on the gallery deck acted as shark watch and one of our whale boats was in the water. The beautiful blue water in the lagoons was very tempting but it was so hard climbing back on the ship after tiring out swimming many of us passed on the opportunity.
Beer parties were sometimes offered on one the islands that had been set up for recreation but you were only given two cans of hot beer. Some may disagree with me but the long ride in an crowded LCT or other type landing craft and spending the day in the sun on hot sand wasn’t enjoyable. I only went once in Majuro and once to Mog Mog in Ulithi. We didn’t blame the Navy, they did what they could and we appreciated their efforts.
There was always mail waiting for us when we anchored in these lagoons and we looked forward to it but also waiting were many tons of ammunition and provisions to be loaded aboard. You can guess who had this chore.

USS SOUTH DAKOTA

This is an account of a day in Yorktown’s history and it is more of a tribute to a another ship. There is a reason I have an affinity for battleship USS South Dakota.
I don’t remember the exact date of this event but it was around Okinawa and South Dakota was in our group. The Japs were sending out scores of kamikazes and while most were destroyed by our combat air patrol many did managed to break through over the force. Once they broke through, our planes were instructed to get out. It was almost impossible to visually identify planes as they got in gun range, consequently unless we told specifically otherwise, during an attack anything flying inside the force was deemed enemy.
We were starting the second day on our battle stations, living on horsecock sandwiches and what little sleep we had was on the deck using our shoes for head support.
The day had an ominous look, ships were getting hit and more than ever I felt this will be the day our "luck" runs out.
They came at the force in several attacks throughout the day.
Sometime late in the day South Dakota had been moved up on our port quarter closer than I had ever seen a battleship get to us. It could only mean one thing, our group commander was concerned he may have another carrier hit.
As dusk approached, the sky was red and gun flashes were visible on nearly every ship in the force.
Our gun had been switched to local control because the fire control director had to concentrate on starboard side targets. We were told to pick out any target and fire on it. I was loading powder when the spade hung up momentarily. This gave me the opportunity to look away from the loading tray and I saw a kamikaze coming in unopposed, apparently not a single tracer going out at him from our ship. He was only seconds away and I could see he was going to crash right on top of us. There wasn’t enough time for our pointer and trainer to get him in their sights. Our gun was almost totally ineffective on close in targets anyway. I started saying my act of contrition and thought about my mother getting the telegram she dreaded.
When I was down to what if I thought was the last few seconds of my life the plane flipped over violently and went into the sea.
I don’t know if South Dakota was officially credited with shooting him down but she was the only one in a position to hit him. She will always have a place in my heart and mind for creating a win/win/win result. A young Jap pilot got instant transportation to see his ancestors, our flight deck stayed intact, many Yorktowners got to live another day and my mother got to see her son again.
Yes, my mother was very proud of me.

ADMISSION BY INVITATION ONLY

I can’t set the time or place of this event but it was probably sometime in February or March of 1944.
I was first loader on Mt. 5 quad forty at the time and we were on our battle station at condition "one easy". I had both the phones and the binoculars and was looking out but never expecting to see anything that the ship lookouts or radar hadn’t already picked up. Out on the starboard beam there was only a destroyer between us and the horizon, a cruiser up ahead on the starboard bow and possibly another cruiser or battleship on the quarter.
Casually sweeping the horizon I thought I saw something low on the water a little forward of the beam. If that’s flying fish they’re flying in formation.
It has to be planes, surely CIC (Combat Information Center) already knows about them, but I have the phones on and nobody has said anything. Just to test my connection to control more than anything else, I called:
"Mt 5 to control",
"Control aye",
"Control, I see planes low on the water a little forward of the starboard beam."
"Control to all mounts, we have already seen the planes and we are checking"
The planes keep coming in what looks like a torpedo attack
I alerted the gun crew and just before handing the phones over to Murray the gun captain, I asked again: "What about these planes"
I no sooner got the words out of my mouth I saw gun flashes on the destroyer, they and perhaps the other ships opened fire. As the planes suddenly banked away the white star could be seen on the wings. American B-25's!
Too late, two of them were shot down.
It was a tragic breakdown or lack of communications, but at a higher level than the fire control officers and men on our ships. Certainly the destroyer and other ships in our screen couldn’t let any planes, not properly identified and flying low on the water get passed them uncontested. Regardless of markings they looked menacing.
Before any plane could approach our force it was imperative he have his IFF (identification friend or foe) on and his credentials in order. It was not inconceivable the Japs could have captured some of our planes or disguised their own. It you were not invited don’t crash the gate, so to speak. If we didn’t know the intruders, we would try to kill them. There was no "oops sorry, or I beg you pardon", during those times. Unfortunately, mistaken identity was almost always a fatal mistake.
We never heard an explanation of what these planes were up to or the fate of the plane crews who were shot down.

More "friendly fire"
Another time around the Marianas one of our F6F fighters failed to clear the area before the shooting started. He knew he was in trouble and was wagging his wings while flying low on the water coming from dead ahead. We could see he was one of ours but other ships further out mistook him for a Jap. When he got behind us we shielded him from a cruiser that was blazing away at him. He turned and headed for the horizon skimming the top of the waves and keeping us between him and the people trying to kill him. We’re all up on our guns hoping he could make it out and he did.

I only saw friendly planes that were not a part of our force one other time.
Three Marine corsairs were far from home and low on fuel when they approached the force asking for permission to land on one of the carriers. They were all properly identified and after considerable deliberation were given permission to attempt landing on Yorktown. None of the pilots had landed on a carrier before although they had bounce drills while in training. Paying no attention to our landing pattern or the LSO (Landing Signal Officer) they came in from dead astern and although they bounced all over the deck they all made safe landings.
I noticed a good bit of red mud splattered on their landing gear and underside of their planes indicating they must be operating out of a recently constructed airfield. The pilots were all smiles when they got out of their planes. Could have been three pilots from the Marine "Black Sheep" squadron for all I know. Of course we had never heard about them back then. After determining their planes were airworthy, fueled and armed they flew off, hopefully finding their way back to the muddy field from whence they came.
If any of those pilots are alive today the USS Yorktown has a special place in their hearts. Also all of their post war progeny almost surely would have never been born were it for not that old ship at Patriots Point.

USS Yorktown - USS Bunker Hill - USS Franklin Hit

When we were hit I didn’t feel, see or hear anything other than the usual cacophony of all the starboard guns firing. I was on the port side and didn’t know a bomb had hit the island structure until our Mark 51 director operator hollered the news down to us. There wasn’t enough damage to slow us down. I do remember this happened at time when some of our carriers had been put out of action so it was important that we stay fully operational.
It was sometime in May 1945 when a friend and I went over to visit an ex shipmate on USS Bunker Hill. She was in Ulithi lagoon on her way back to the states after being heavily damaged by Kamikazes. We had noon chow with him and the compartments we went through to get to the mess deck had all burned and the smell of fire and ashes permeated the whole ship. The demeanor of all the sailors and marines in the crew was somber. No loud talking or grabass like you usually see in a chow line. It was obvious the men were feeling the loss of over three hundred of their shipmates.
USS Franklin wasn’t in our group and it was the only time in my memory ships from separate groups came within sight of each other. She was almost on the horizon but all of her hull was visible. It was one of those days when we were spending most of our time on battle stations. When she was first hit the towering column of black smoke that followed a bomb hit was in evidence. But soon it was one explosion after another. We knew many men were dying in each one of them and were thinking, "my God will they ever stop?" None of us thought anyone on that ship could survive. Naturally it had an effect on everyone who witnessed the scene. We all knew that could be us.
Franklin dropped out of her group and as we proceeded on she was soon out of sight but the column of smoke was visible long after. Later we were all surprised to learn she stayed afloat and while over seven hundred men were killed most of her crew survived.

MY REGULAR JOB

My regular job on USS Yorktown? Have you ever heard the expression "shit rolls downhill". When the shit got to where I was it had stopped rolling. With all the glory attached to the "Fighting Lady" nothing I could say about my shipboard job could possibly impress a Navy historian.
If there is such a thing as a Navy "grunt" that’s what gunnery department seamen were during our time. We were the labor force of an aircraft carrier. But I can say there is nothing else I would have rather been doing.
We never got a pat on the back or any words of approval and our world was that group of nine or ten men we shared watch and battle stations with. We were close as brothers and even though we didn’t always like each other, estrangement wasn’t an option.
click here for video; Underway replenishment "we're refueling at sea...that tells us something."

One of the duties of 2nd division men was manning the after fueling station for tankers and the fueling boom and hose for our escort destroyers. Fueling destroyers was a job I personally liked and I was always on one of the starboard side 40mm gun sponsons ready to heave a line over. Because I was often successful getting the line over to the destroyer I was usually given the first heave and my goal was to keep the other two men with heaving lines on the bench. Above all we wanted to deny the man with the line gun a shot. His line was little more than nylon twine and required an extra "messenger" line for the process of getting the hose over to the destroyer.
As I watched the destroyers inch their way into position I would look at the crews and think, somewhere back in the states were loved ones and families of these men who only knew they were "somewhere" at sea. Maybe they hadn’t seen them for a year or more and judging from the chromate splotches on some of these ships they had been out a long time. I would wish I could tell them, I see your sons and brothers and husbands and they’re OK.
One of my proudest moments at sea and one of the very few times I got a "well done" was the day I actually got the monkey fist clean over the torpedo tubes. Someone up above us on the bridge hollered down, "good heave" I hope it was the captain.
I don’t know how it got started but some of our men started throwing down candy and chewing gum to the destroyer crews. It was good to see the little wave of thanks when they caught something. It made you realize we were all brothers and in this fight together.