Old Shipmates, Old Friends

story by Willie

When Yorktown entered our Leyte anchorage in June 1945 most of us hadn’t set foot on land since Oct 1944 when we unloaded our cargo of army vehicles in Pearl Harbor. Some of us did walk on the hot sand and coral of Mog Mog but that hardly qualifies as land. Most of the shade on the island was on the officers end and two cans of hot beer was no incentive to even think of returning after one visit. We hadn’t seen a female in almost nine months. Some of those female sailors would have been welcome back then to soothe the hormones.

Relaxing on the fantail after an evening meal we noticed some soldiers moseying around in a duck (DUKW) looking us over. What a sight we must have been for them. Elements of the most powerful naval force ever assembled. Proud yes, how could you not be. Our country had risen from humiliation at the hands of the Jap criminals who committed unspeakable atrocities on our men after they surrendered in these same islands. During the infamous “Bataan death march” they cruelly bayoneted those who fell as well as those who tried to help their fallen buddies. Now it’s payback time and we are part of this magnificent, unstoppable fleet poised to deliver the coup de grace. Some of our people would still have to die but the outcome isn’t in doubt and their days are numbered.

Picture: Willie Age 17 (on right)  Los Angeles, California, March 1943 

We motioned to the soldiers to come aboard (via fantail Jacobs ladder) for chow and took all of them, including a lieutenant down to the mess deck.

Later, the lieutenant agreed to give us one way passage ashore if it was “alright for us to leave”.  It probably wasn’t but nobody said so specifically and we weren’t going to ask. “Sure it’s alright Lieutenant, we’re off duty.” It was a long way in and he put us ashore where there was still some wreckage of war strewn about the shore and beyond.

We did manage to find some booze but only caught a glimpse of a few women. None of the navy service boats were willing to take us out to the ship because it was “too far out.” It was too far to swim and being stranded on Leyte was not an option. Before desperation set in and after deciding against stealing a boat we went to the army supply base. Sometime after daybreak we finally located a sergeant who was willing to take us out if we could supply him with some white tee (scivvy) shirts. For some reason all those soldiers prized white tee shirts.
As we were backing away from the dock a colonel drove up in a jeep and called us back in. Fearing the worst, we were relieved to learn he only wanted the boat (an LCM) to bring three USO women out to a transport anchored in the bay. On this boat as on all the army boats we saw, the two man crew had built a shelter over the after part of the cargo well and were living aboard.

We waited for him to go get the women and then were delighted to have three pretty American girls all to ourselves to chat with for over an hour in the snug little shelter after being starved for female companionship for so long. Any woman from home, whether USO or Hollywood performer was always hovered over by the officers. Enlisted men could never get near them.

The soldiers had to look for the transport amongst thirty or more auxiliary ships of all descriptions. The search for the ship was hampered by a driving tropical rain storm but we finally located it after one of the girls said, “I think it has two smoke stacks”. As we were helping the women onto the gangway one of them put a little peck on McDonald’s cheek. I thought he was going to pass out.

Pulling away from the gangway we noticed the sergeant didn’t head for the fleet anchorage but rather started back to his base. He said he had already been gone too long . We wheedled and cajoled until he finally agreed to take us to Yorktown. I think he realized we had him outnumbered and we were going to our ship with or without him in command.

We didn’t dare press our luck by having him bring us to the gangway but decided to pass under the stern and let us we grab onto the Jacobs ladders hanging there. He had to make two passes to get us all aboard. We told him to wait while we got some scivvy shirts but he took off without them.
Our division BM, seeing the five of us coming aboard, asked where the hell we had been. We told him we went ashore, got drunk and spent some time with three beautiful girls from home. He said we were full of shxt, didn’t believe any of it and let it go at that. The man who was our real boss and held the power of life or death over us, let us slide.

Thanks for the experience Lieutenant (whoever you are) and a special thanks to you Sarge for saving our asses, even if we had to put pressure on you to do it.
If I remember correctly you told us the next stop for you and your group was a beachhead somewhere on the Jap home islands. Glad there was a change in plans.

Band of Brothers

story by Willie

Video; USS Yorktown under attack  "We're being attacked by japanese torpedo bombers, skimming after us, wing to water..."

We were together on gun watch night and day four hours on and eight off, then on our battle station sometimes for a day or more. It was inevitable our little group became “family”. Nobody complained about the watches because if we were not on watch during the day (and occasionally at night) we would be working somewhere.
I don’t remember ever a time when we were on watch or battle station we were required to do anything but just be there and be ready.
 

On night watch two men stayed alert with one wearing the phones, the rest of the crew could sleep on the gun deck. In the day time the men could read and write letters, work on little personal projects like making knives and scabbards, ID bracelets and rings from half dollar coins. For most of us though, it was playing cards and our favorite game was pinochle usually played with two and sometimes four decks.

While playing the game we discussed any and all topics. Even though we were close as brothers and confided with one another on many things, the one thing I never heard discussed was the possibility of being killed. If anyone had any fears of dying the only time death was mentioned was when it was offered as a better option than returning home a basket case, literally.
 

We sensed a loyalty to one another in the group and it sometimes seemed we had always been in this situation together. I believe the foundation of so called “unit cohesion” is the respect we had for one another and fear of losing this respect is greater than any threat posed by the enemy. I believe it is this fear that won’t allow men to run from a fight. “Death Before Dishonor” may have been the most common tattoo of the time.

You realize the strength of the bond made during those two or three years together when you meet one of the group after any number of years, no meeting of brothers is anymore heartfelt. What is especially rewarding is being accepted as family by the wives, children and grandchildren of a shipmate. Even though they have never met you or even seen you, they accept you because of an experience you shared with their husband and father many years ago.

Picture: USS Wasp CV18 gunners gave the Japanese aircraft a quick finish. He burned with a bright orange flame and crashed 100 yards astern the ship." Photo by Vernal "Ross" Jolley PH3 US Navy

 

See Victory at Sea "Suicide to Glory" 20 minute movie click here

 

When the kamikaze attacks began in late 1944 they had a profound effect on our men. We still didn’t discuss it but for many of us the thought of dying began to nag at us. For the first time our war became personal. As with all naval combat we never knew who we were shooting at or who was shooting at us, they were just objects. With the kamikazes, even if you couldn’t see your enemy’s face you could see the weapon he is controlling and intends to die with trying to kill you.

I know of no words to describe whatever it is you feel when you see a bomb laden plane about to crash on top of you. I can say I have an idea of what those police and firemen on the streets around the WTC must have felt in the last seconds of their lives when they saw that building crashing down on them. I may know what fleeting thoughts were going through their minds.

click here for video-Salute "Salute (the Yorktown sailors) because they were brave..."

Willie gets "liberty" in the Territory of Hawaii

story by Willie
It was May 1944 when word was passed we were going back to Pearl Harbor. We had been out since January operating out of Majuro atoll. In the five months since we left we had secured the Marshall islands, raided Truk for the first time and hit several other Jap bases including Saipan where the Japs put up more resistance than they did at Truk, at least for our group. We had crossed the equator and become “shellbacks.,” and gone to Espirito Santo to change out some defective 5" projectile fuses. The projectiles were exploding as soon as they came out of the muzzles killing men on some of our ships. Sabotage was suspected or so we were told.
Some men were referring to PH as the “promised land."  Others (including me), were not enthused because in our opinion, Honolulu wasn’t a good liberty town. Not at all.

We had to be off the streets at 6PM unless we had a special, almost impossible to come by overnight liberty pass. Most Hawaiian girls treated sailors with contempt and in retrospect they couldn’t be blamed too much because they were being hit on constantly by men starved for female companionship coming in from long sea deployment. More than once I thought if these haughty girls were back in the states very few of them would get a second glance.

Short time female companionship could be had for two dollars if a sailor was willing to wait in a line that spilled out onto the street. The two dollar bill may have been the most common piece of currency circulating in wartime Honolulu. It’s the only place I ever saw it and if you had bills in your wallet almost surely at least one of them was a two dollar bill. Coincidence, who can say.  {$2 was the fee for the companionship}

Just prior to our docking and drawing of the torpedo net around us, word was passed that anyone interested could sign up for a few days stay at a rest camp at Nanakuli some miles up the coast on Oahu. I signed up and later we were taken by launch from Ford Island to the Oahu mainland where we boarded a narrow gauge passenger train bound for Nanakuli.
After a slow ride through cane fields and along the coast we arrived there and were taken to the camp.
We were assigned to several small dormitory like buildings. The camp was a pleasant interlude from the confined rigors of battle cruising. The Navy had gone to reasonable lengths to provide us with good food and just about any type of recreation you could think of except the one thing that would have interested teenaged sailors the most, girls. We knew they did what they could, didn’t expect anything and appreciated what they did provide.
 

The camp was very close to the beach and other than climbing some hills behind the camp we spent most of our time out there. Someone discovered that holding a wet mattress cover open, running down the beach, scooping air and then quickly tying up the end it would hold the air for a long time and could be used for flotation.
As I was floating on my back imagining I was at the beach back home, a flight of several SBD’s flew over. When one of them started diving he appeared to be coming straight at me. I looked toward the beach and discovered I had drifted out a couple of hundred yards or more, much further than I thought I was or wanted to be. The other planes were peeling off, all coming right at me. I thought maybe they had seen the white mattress cover and were using it as some sort of target. I was hoping they saw me and if not they didn’t have any dummy ordnance to drop or wouldn’t decide to pop off a couple of rounds. I really believe at that moment I was as scared as I had been at any time since going aboard Yorktown.

Maybe one of those pilots could see I was getting into a dangerous situation and was trying to warn me. I’ll never know, but had they not dove like they did no telling how much further I would have gone out and possibly wound up as shark food. As they were diving I began struggling against some kind of current or tidal action to get back to the beach. Fortunately the mattress cover was still holding enough air to keep me out of a panic situation. I’m not sure if any of the other men noticed my plight which made me think of the buddy system we used as kids. I wouldn’t need it at Nanakuli, I had my fill of the beach and the ocean.
 

Coming back to Ford island in the launch, the vantage point gave me a view of Yorktown I hadn’t remembered seeing before. She was not only pretty, but a state of the art, premier ship of the line. She was my home and a part of her was mine. Just a few cubit feet of space perhaps, but that space was mine. Was I proud? You bet.

Liberty in Oakland California not much better

 

I can’t pinpoint the exact date of this brief battle on the streets of downtown Oakland CA.
It was in early Oct 1944 and I had no business being there, and no business being ashore anywhere. I was restricted to the ship and a PAL. That's "prisoner at large" for those not familiar with the Navy lingo of the times.
I wasn't wearing my prized tailor made uniform which was then almost brand new. I had it made in Seattle just a couple of weeks before and probably hadn't worn it more than five or six times.
No, I wasn’t going to risk it, I wore my old regulation blues which didn't look too bad anyway.
The jumper had been cut off or unbloused and the pants were spiked. They were acceptable but now also expendable. I wore dungarees over them to get off the ship.
This was risky for many reasons, but fellow PAL and good friend Jimmy P and I reasoned this may be our last opportunity to walk on USA soil for many months to come and, had to face it, maybe forever.
We rigged a line from Mount nine 40MM gun sponson and slid down to a spacing punt then up a ladder to the dock. Looking as casual as possible we walked pass the gangway. The Marine guard there possibly recognized us but paid us no heed. These two dungaree clad Yorktown sailors then ducked behind a garbage bin, shed the dungarees and emerged in dress blues. The dungarees went in the bin and we had decided there would be no chance getting them back. Getting off the ship was easy, getting back on would be another matter.
But we weren't worried about that now, that's a problem for later. Just don't MISS the ship.
They were loading Army vehicles aboard and we knew this would be an all night job at least, plus the men who were ashore legally had all night liberty.
We didn't have a lot of money and what turned into my best liberty of all time started out dismally.
We made contact early on with two girls who were window shopping and seemed to be making headway with them. After pairing off the two couples became separated with Jimmy about a half block ahead of me. The girls were still shopping and we're pitching. Ain't got too much time.
Facing a store display window talking to the girl, some sailor comes up behind me and says, "that’s no way to talk to a woman". I'm trying to figure what he's talking about and sizing up him and his friend. Right away I have him pegged as a stupid boot looking for a fight and must think I'm easy pickings. Maybe I looked like a fellow boot to him. He was my size, his friend somewhat smaller. Jimmy's no where in sight.
He didn't give me a chance to decide what I should do, he passed the post on me with a right to the jaw.
I would have done almost anything to avoid a fight. I wasn't a fighter, I'm already AWOL and God knows I'm not looking for trouble.
But he didn't hurt me and I said to myself, punk if that's the hardest you can hit I got your ass.
I hit him one time and he went sprawling off the sidewalk into the street. His hat and change in his top pocket went flying. He started picking up the change so I figured this fight is over and when I reached down to help him up, his friend starts hollering, "don't hit him when he's down". I'm not going to hit him I was going to help him up. The friend starts acting belligerent and while I'm wondering what I should do about him I heard Jimmy yelling at me. He's running full tilt toward the scene yelling, "don't hit him Willie, don't hit him". Then "let me hit him", BAM!, one punch and the friend is finished.
Three punches, two punks dispatched but the girls are gone. Just as well, an incredible series of events are about to unfold that will turn this night into a sailor's dream night ashore. Don't suppose I should call it a liberty.

 

I would like to give a complete account of that most memorable evening but really shouldn't. I can say the total cost of the evening for us was about five bucks and two pairs or ragged ass dungarees. Could it get any better?
Here is an excerpt from a story told previously that included the Oakland adventure:
"We had a great time in Oakland after meeting up with a couple of, would you believe Navy women.
Coming back to the ship the next morning we decided we would just face the music. We'll go up the gangway in our dress blues and let the hair go with the hide.
Walking down the dock I saw three war correspondents getting out of a limousine with all their gear and luggage. We grabbed some of their gear and went aboard with them.
While the OD was processing them we put their stuff down and went about our business. One of the correspondents was looking at us wondering where we were going. He must have thought we had been detailed to help them. Nobody missed us, we made the muster and skated free on that little escapade."

 

Two typhoons did major damage to the U.S. Navy’s Third Fleet in the Pacific, commanded by Adm. William Halsey late in World War II.

The first hit on Dec. 17, 1944. This typhoon, which was informally named "Cobra," had sustained winds estimated at 145 mph and probable guest to 185 mph. Three destroyers capsized and sunk, but a few men on them survived to be picked up by other ships. Numerous other ships were heavily damaged and 146 airplanes were destroyed. The storm killed 778 men

The second hit the Third Fleet with 50- to 60-foot seas, sustained winds of about 115 mph and gusts probably up to about 150 mph on June 2 and 3, 1945 east of Okinawa. This typhoon damaged 33 ships and destroyed 76 airplanes, mostly on the flight or hanger decks of aircraft carriers after the airplanes broke free of the chains holding them down. The storm killed six men on U.S. ships. It died at sea without ever hitting land.

"For those in peril, on the sea..."

Willie remembers the typhoons that hit the US Navy and the USS Yorktown

We were in two typhoons during my time aboard Yorktown and I remember more about the first one. I don’t know if I can add much to what has been recorded and what I remember is not always in agreement with what has been written by others.
Mistakenly or not, we had confidence our ship could weather whatever wind and sea a typhoon could generate and didn’t think our lives were threatened. Since we had the whole force with us our concern was for the smaller ships especially the destroyers.
I remember in the early stages we tried to top off destroyers. As I stood with my heaving line at the ready and watched the first approach our starboard side the entire bow was lifting out of the water. You could see daylight under the hull all the way back to the forward gun mount. The attempt was abandoned.
Our destroyer crews were in grave danger throughout both typhoons and whenever I hear the Navy hymn and the words “for those in peril on the sea” I think of those men. The words were never more appropriate.
Three destroyers were sunk and over 750 men died for their country in the first typhoon.
It was almost like a truce or temporary cease fire had been called in our war because the whereabouts of the Jap enemy was suddenly of secondary importance.

Official US Navy Photograph;  Flight deck flattened down over her bow like the brim of a soft hat, the "Hornet" gets underway after the June 5th typhoon. Crewmen survey the damage. Though unable to launch planes in normal fashion, the carrier backed into the wind to get search planes aloft to aid in rounding up other ships in the group after the storm.

Aboard ship there was always a lot of traffic in the second deck starboard passageway from the marine quarters all the way back to sick bay. While walking down this passageway where you could see ahead through several compartments, sea legs would adjust to the angle of the deck as the ship rolled back and forth from port to starboard. Occasionally, the ship would roll in one direction, hang a while and then rather than come back it would roll a little more in the same direction. Everyone would stop moving, get a fix on the nearest way out, then wait to see what was coming next. After the ship started rolling back the other way everyone resumed whatever they were doing.
We didn’t sleep in our bunks during the typhoons but rarely did anyway.
Up on the gun deck I remember looking up at the crest of the waves and at times solid green broke over the flight deck.
When the storm was at its peak, visibility was down to a few hundred feet and when it started clearing up I don’t remember seeing any of the other ships that had been in our group.

Official US Navy Photograph:

Although lashed to the flight deck, winds from the
June 25th typhoon lifted this TBM up and laid it over
on one of the carriers FGF fighter planes. USS Hornet

I had heard there were fires on some of the CVL’s but if so we couldn’t have seen them.
We only had sandwiches to eat during the typhoons and here again, I didn’t mind because in my opinion they were as palatable as the cooked food. If they were made with pork luncheon meat I would have preferred them to cooked food coming out of the galley. I’m not knocking our cooks, they did the best they could with what they had to work with. Our bread was as good as anything stateside even if it was always stale when we got it.
The typhoon of June 1945 was less severe as I recall but our sister carrier Hornet had about thirty feet of her forward flight deck collapse and the cruiser Pittsburgh lost over a hundred feet of her bow.
I was in another storm in the north Pacific aboard a merchant ship in 1947. We lost part of a deck cargo of rice threshers bound for China. When the captain told the radio operator to raise any ship or station to report our situation the closest contact was a thousand miles to the south. In the worst day of that storm our noon to noon progress was minus four miles. It took all of the power that ship could deliver to stay out of the trough. We literally took the sea wave by wave. Because we were alone and on a much smaller ship I would rate this my worst ride at sea and I was more concerned about dying here than I was during the WW2 typhoons aboard Yorktown.
As you would expect, the arm chair second guessers and hind sight experts want to blame Adm. Halsey for leading the force into the typhoons. Never mind that weather prediction and storm tracking technology was primitive or non existent in those days.
How quickly they forget, or I should say never knew, it was his aggressive leadership and courage that carried us through the early stages of WW2 when the Japs had us outnumbered, outgunned and ruled the western Pacific.