LOOKING BACK AT WORLD WAR II

BY J. JULIAN DENNIS
1205 SPRINGWOOD WAY
PACIFICA, CALIFORNIA
20 APR 1996

At THIS WRITING, I am 76 years old, married to a wonderful lady & with eight children, 28 grandchildren, and two great-grand children.  I was born in SMITHFIELD, UTAH, and spent my childhood and early adult years in the little town of MALAD, IDAHO.  Growing up in a small western town during the transition years from horse & buggy to the automobile; from the kerosine lamps to electric lights, and from crystal sets to radios, then on to television, computers, & myriads of other devices in and out of the home, has been in a word, "FANTASTIC".  In the short space of fifty years, the world changed right before our very eyes.

NOW WHAT FOLLOWS HERE is a capsule look at a history making time period in my life which I have been repeatedly asked to set down in print for all of the family.  The catalyst which got it off & running, was a call from Bill's daughter Anna who wanted to incorporate it into a special report for school, so here it is.

WHEN I WAS a young man of 22, I was at home in Malad along with Uncle Vern & Aunt Net, when my parents  were celebrating their 25th wedding anniversary on Dec. 6th, 1941, and the next day we got word on the radio that Japanese aircraft had bombed Pearl Harbor.  A "STATE OF WAR" was declared by President Roosevelt, and I being 1-A in the draft status, would be a potential early candidate to go into the ARMED FORCES.  My Aunt NET asked if I was scared, to which I replied with unconcerned bravado, "I'M NOT AFRAID OF THE COLORS." (Young people are sometimes prone to view serious matters rather lightly.)  Every one but my mother felt that it was a brave and patriotic statement.  She, however, choked up and admitted that she was terrified at the very thought of my going to war.

AS A YOUNG BOY, I had become extremely interested in electronics and had done a lot of experimental things along with a considerable amount of study.  One humorous little event occurred when I was about 12 years old.  Uncle Vern and Aunt Venetta Bush had come over to Malad from Smithfield with an Atwater-Kent radio which they had been using for a couple of years, & then decided that they wanted a newer model with more features, etc.  The radio was in about four separate pieces including the speaker.  One of the pieces was a "BATTERY ELIMINATOR". It was a glass container about the size of an auto battery, with liquid and terminals forming a rectifier & connected to the radio chassis.  Well, they set the pieces up on a small card table and spent all morning trying to connect the wires up so that it would play.  I was watching every move they made like a hawk, and their conversation about what should go where was extremely interesting and captivating, but they just couldn't get the darn thing to make a sound.  By then it was lunch time, and they decided that we should sit down and eat, and then try again afterwards.  Needless to say, I wolfed down my lunch and quietly slipped away from the table & over to the radio works which had wires coming out in several directions.  I proceeded to connect the wires to terminals in the same order that I had observed during the morning.  Then, I turned it on and presto, it began playing.  Everyone jumped up from the table and came running over to see what I had done.  I explained that I had connected it up just as I saw them doing during the morning.  They just couldn't believe that I hadn't done something more, and Aunt "NET" (that's what everyone called her) exclaimed, "THE BOY IS A GENIUS!!"  I was so impressed by her statement that a peacock couldn't have strutted around any more stately, and her voice when she said it, still rings in my ears as if it was just yesterday.  Well, the long & short of it was that at that moment, I had automatically become an authority on radios, and had informally inherited this one right on the spot.  From that time forth, my parents depended on me to check on it and fix it if something went wrong.  (The same type of scenario occurred after we had moved to California.  At my sister's home in Sunnyvale about 15 years ago, they had purchased a VCR and couldn't get it to work with the TV.  So, when we went down there one weekend, she asked me to look at the hookup to see if anything was incorrect.  I could find nothing wrong, so went back around to the front and everything worked perfectly.  She insisted that I had done something different, and to this very day claims that I worked some kind of magic.  For myself, I can't deny the magic part, even though I can't explain it.)

GETTING BACK TO THE FIRST STORY, After several years, we saved up enough to buy a little Montgomery Ward superhetrodyne, which was more sensitive, & the quality of sound was vastly superior.  Then the old unit became the base of many experiments and a lot of enjoyment in devising various gadgets.  One year, the power transformer burned out in the little Montgomery Ward radio, so I checked it's specs, and ordered & installed a new one.  There were about a dozen wires to connect up, and my mother was totally flabbergasted at how I could have figured out how to connect them.  I explained the whole system, and even though it was simple enough to me, she still shook her head and marveled that I could do it.

AFTER GRADUATING FROM HIGH SCHOOL, I had spent two years studying at the Western Electrical College in Salt Lake City, and then a year & a half at Idaho State College studying engineering.  I had my FIRST CLASS RADIO-TELEPHONE (broadcast) operator's license and my CLASS "B" AMATEUR license, and had been attempting to land a job in one of the radio stations around the area.  The FIRST CLASS RADIO-TELEPHONE LICENSE, which I acquired by passing an FCC exam after graduating from the WESTERN ELECTRICAL COLLEGE was a pre-requisite for getting a job at a broadcast station.  Under FCC regulations, only licensed operators could stand "WATCH" at the station's transmitter.  The CLASS "B" AMATEUR LICENSE was to enable one to engage in the AMATEUR RADIO HOBBY, and the exam for that license was far more simple.  I could do "PRESS-WIRELESS" on the typewriter, which was broadcast on short-wave stations from New York, using CONTINENTAL MORSE CODE at forty words per minute.  That was the pre-teletype method used by broadcast stations to acquire world news for their daily newscasts.  But no station would hire me, because of my DRAFT status --they were afraid that breaking me into the staff operations would be short lived.

NEEDLESS TO SAY, I was not happy at the thought of being a foot-soldier.  And a draftee had little chance of getting into a specialist position.  Then on the evening of Dec. 20th 1941, I saw an article in the DESERET NEWS stating that the U.S. NAVY was offering 2nd CLASS PETTY OFFICER rates to any enlistee who possessed a CLASS B AMATEUR RADIO LICENSE.  They would be needed to maintain a new electronic device called RADAR.  At that time, the 2nd CLASS P.O. in the Navy was equivalent to STAFF SERGEANT in the Army.  I was electrified at this news, and my mother and father were very pleased, because this sounded a lot safer than a foot-slogging rifleman in the Army.  But the next morning, a thunder bolt struck in the form of a letter of greetings from the Draft Board in Pocatello, summoning me to go there to the Draft Office to be processed for induction into the Service.

MY UNCLE LAWRENCE AND AUNT CLEOPHA WALKER of Pocatello were in Malad that morning, and after discussions, Uncle Lawrence offered to take me to Salt Lake City to the Navy Recruiting Office for physical exams and to get a Letter stating that I was acceptable as an enlistee, and requesting that the Draft Board release me for service in the Navy.  The exams went well, except for the condition of my Teeth, and the Naval Officer in charge, while reading the results of my physical exam stated that I would not be accepted by the Navy.  Then, as he was looking down through the exam form, he said, "Oh, you're the Radioman.  Well, I guess we can use you."  The Navy needed electronics people badly for this new type of equipment called RADAR, and were recruiting Amateur Operators from all over the Country to repair and maintain this equipment now being installed on ships of the Fleet.  The Navy recognized the great contribution of the Amateur Radio Operator to the state of the art of radio communications in general.  At this point, I didn't know what RADAR was, but it sure sounded exciting, and just what I was looking for.

NOW, I HAD TO take that letter to the Draft Board in Pocatello, and get the release enabling the Navy to take me.  The next day my heart was in my mouth all the way to Pocatello, but when I met with the people at the Draft Board, they were happy to present me with the letter which would make it all happen.  To say the very least, I think I was walking six feet off the ground as I left their office.

I CAN NEVER THANK UNCLE LAWRENCE ENOUGH, because it was his idea to go to Salt Lake City and start the ball rolling.  He and Aunt Cleopha were so very generous in taking me to Salt Lake City, then to Pocatello, and back to Malad.

ON JAN 8, 1942, about ten of my friends and myself from MALAD, boarded the Greyhound bus enroute to SALT LAKE CITY.  I was the only one going to the NAVY, and this made me feel real special. I was processed along with three other young men and we boarded the train for SAN FRANCISCO.  My orders took me to TREASURE ISLAND where the NAVY operated a Section Base, a Marine Training School, and an Electronics School.  It was quite special and exciting to be in a large group of RADIO AMATEURS from all over the country, and we would be taking an advanced course of study prior to the studies of the RADAR EQUIPMENT.  The entire course would take six months, after which we would be assigned to various ships of the fleet.

DURING THE STAY on TREASURE ISLAND, the COAST GUARD would call for "Radio-men" from the school to service the SONO-BUOYS in the ship channel outside the Golden Gate.  We would shove off about 8:OOAM, aboard "SC BOATS", a small 50 foot World War  I Submarine Chaser, (a poor-man's PT BOAT of WORLD WAR II), and return about dusk after spending the day hoisting the buoys aboard, replacing batteries and testing.  I went out on two different occasions, and in those choppy waters, I got my first taste of sea-sickness.  The SONO-BUOYS were anchored in specific locations and had microphones suspended about 15 feet under-water to pick up the sound of ship's propellers.  The on-board transmitters were being constantly monitored by the COAST GUARD, and if an enemy submarine was to try to sneak into the harbor, it would be detected and a Destroyer would be sent out to attack and sink it.

BEING ONE OF about 15 of the first Radiomen to arrive there, we were designated as "COMPANY ONE", of which there were about 50 companies, each consisting of about 50 men, gathered there by the time "Company One" graduated in June.  About 10 days after graduating, 25 of us embarked on the WORLD WAR I troop ship the HENDERSON bound for Pearl Harbor.  We were escorted by a lone DESTROYER, the USS SHAW which was zig-zaging about a half-mile in front of us, & echo-ranging with its SONAR to detect any submarine which might be lying in wait for a nice fat ship to lunch on.  The SHAW had been in PEARL HARBOR during the bombing raid and its entire bow had been blown off.  Being one of the newer DESTROYERS, it had been patched up and towed back to the STATES to MARE ISLAND where it was fitted out with a new bow (pronounced "BOUGH").  It was on its maiden voyage back while escorting us to PEARL HARBOR.  There were about 1,500 servicemen aboard for the slow voyage, & because the old Henderson only traveled at a speed of about 12 Knots, I think it took us about 21 or 22 days.  (I was in a deep state of depression during that dismal trip because I had resigned myself with the conviction that I would not be among those who would return after the war.  I had related this to several people, even to some from Malad whom I had met overseas, and they were positive that they would return.  But with the fickle twist of fate, I did return and some of them didn't.)  With that many men aboard, conditions were very crowded.  We got our chow dished into a tray which we carried down the chow line past the steam tables, and then had to take it out on deck, & sit there to eat.  Fortunately, it didn't rain during the trip.

AS WE SLOWLY PASSED through the straits at the entrance of PEARL HARBOR, one of the ship's crew, a Boatswain's mate who had been there during the bombing, pointed out different things, such as the Battleship California's old guns lying on the waterfront.  There were nine individual gun barrels lying there.  Each looked like a culvert about 50 feet long and 16 inches diameter inside the barrel.  The gun barrels had been bent out of line by the bomb blasts, & were removed, after which the ship proceeded back to MARE ISLAND for other repairs, & new guns.  Then, we passed the wreckage of several battleships including the USS NEVADA, which was under water except for the super-structure.  (It could not be re-floated, & after the war, it was converted into a permanent memorial for the approximately 1,200 crew-men who could not be rescued from the battered hull).  Everywhere there were signs of the destruction which still hadn't been removed.  In the six months after the enemy raid, all energy was directed toward getting the viable ships and facilities back into operational status.

ACCORDING TO MY RECOLLECTION, the ENTERPRISE and three other aircraft carriers and their escorts including destroyers and cruisers, were out on maneuvers at the time of the raid, or they might have suffered the same fate as the ships in the harbor.  As it was, we still had the capability of a formidable strike force, and the Japanese knew it because they had noted the absence of the carriers during the raid. (An interesting note here, is that with the commitment of so many of the surface units to the struggle of cutting the Japanese supply lines, there were not enough ships to form an escort to the carriers undamaged in the raid, so they were dispersed to several relatively safe locations.  In particular, the ENTERPRISE was anchored in a remote corner of the harbor at ESPRITO-SANTOS, (where I would spend the first 14 months of duty), and stayed there for the better part of a year.  Then she was sent back to the STATES for re-fitting and taking aboard a new type of aircraft such as the HELL-DIVER, etc.  Then they were organized into a carrier task force, and one of their first engagements was at the BATTLE OF MIDWAY).

AT PEARL HARBOR, after about ten days, two of our group, Chet Gilman and I, were transferred to a Destroyer Tender named the USS DIXIE, a 10,000 ton ship anchored in PEARL HARBOR at that time, but fortunately had not arrived until several months after the raid.

THOSE WARSHIPS CALLED DESTROYERS, which would be the center of my work during the first half of the war, weighed about 1,200 tons for the old World War I class or "four stackers", and cruised at about 25 knots, max, while most of the new ones were from 2,000 to 3,500 tons, had two larger stacks, & could cruise at about 30 to 35 knots.  Most of the new Cruisers and battleships could cruise at speeds of about 35 knots, making it necessary for their escorts to do so in order to keep pace.  In the Pacific theater, there were also several destroyers, (slightly fore-runners of the new "two-stacker" class, weighing in at about 4,000 tons & with one stack.) (An interesting note here is that the Destroyer class ship was called by another name -- the "TIN CAN", because she had no heavy armor-plate on the hull as protection against enemy torpedoes or bombs.  She was designed light and fast, and her two heaviest punches were: (1) her bank of five torpedoes, which was mounted mid-ship, and could be fired from either port or starboard side, & (2) her bank of depth-charges mounted on the fan-tail, & used for attacking & destroying enemy submarines.  In an attack against larger warships, the "tin can" had a very limited time to carry out the feat of getting close enough to fire her torpedoes before being blown out of the water.  She had to get this done in four to six minutes or less, and with her speed of from 30 to 35 knots, she was calculated to get the "fish" or torpedoes off.  It was almost a certainty that she would not survive the attack herself.  It was considered a virtual suicidal action, in which the trade-off in naval power was considered acceptable.  It took some of the bravest men alive to carry out this type of mission, and fortunately few encounters of this type occurred during the war.  A movie was produced shortly after the war entitled "THEY WERE EXPENDABLE", which portrayed this tactic amongst others.)

THE PRIMARY MISSI0N of the Destroyer was to hunt down & destroy submarines & supply ships.  With their sonar equipment, they could locate the "Sub" under water and destroy it with depth charges, as their name implies.  They also had a turret of five torpedoes for attacking supply and troop ships, and in addition to three five-inch 38 caliber dual gun turrets (two turrets forward & one aft on the fan-tail,) they had a lot of 20 and 40 millimeter anti-aircraft machine guns aboard for defense against enemy aircraft.

THE MISSION OF THE USS DIXIE, was to be anchored in a rear area and to provide repair services to the destroyers & their equipment when they came back to the base for supplies and ammunition, and it was about a month after I came aboard, that the DIXIE was ordered to proceed to her duty station, or base of operations which would be in the harbor at ESPRITO SANTOS ISLAND in the NEW HEBRIDES GROUP.  It was located about 900 miles South-east of the SOLOMON ISLANDS (about two-thirds of the distance to New Caledonia.)  The MARINES had secured GUADALCANAL after a bloody campaign, and during which time, a great naval battle had been waged in the straits between Guadalcanal and the island of Tulagi -- so many ships on both sides were sunk that it was named "IRON BOTTOM SOUND" -- sometimes referred to as "IRON BOTTOM BAY".

WE WERE TOLD that so much fuel oil and gasoline had been spilled on the water from the sinking ships and set afire that the entire 15 mile strait between Guadalcanal and Tulagi was a sea of fire.  Many sailors who managed to escape their sinking ships lost their lives in the raging sea of fire.  (Before leaving the STATES the second time, we had to pass swimming tests, and were taught how to submerge ourselves and swirl the water with our hands before coming up to get air, and keep repeating the swirling action sequence if we were caught in a surface fire situation).  Both navies lost so many ships, and the surviving units were so badly damaged that both crippled fleets had to retire & await replacements.  It was the turning point of the war in the Pacific Theater, and it was the last naval surface battle of that size throughout the rest of the war.  At that point, the Japanese navy was too weak to come out in force to re-supply their garrisons on Guadalcanal & other islands, so the sea warfare evolved into patrol work on our part to cut their supply lines.  In this effort, the DESTROYERS of the U.S. FLEET played a major role.

ABOARD THE DIXIE, I was one of about 18 "RADIO MEN", later called "ELECTRONIC TECHNICIANS" because the scope of our work included more than radio equipment.  There was both "search" and "fire control" RADAR (for detection and neutralization of aircraft and surface ships), SONAR (for submarines), and fathometers (for measuring depth of the water under the ship).  In addition there was the standard compliment of radio communication equipment.  We not only repaired and tested this equipment, but also made new installations of Radar aboard some of the new DESTROYERS that were sent out from the STATES without it, because all of the Navy Yards were too crowded to handle them after launching.  I was leading man for several installations, and my best operating system was on the "USS MORRIS" where I was given the liberty to lay out the locations of the various system components prior to the installation.  Actually, it was the most sensitive and smooth operating system that I had seen during my work with the destroyer class ships. Incidentally, an old friend from TWIN FALLS, IDAHO was the communications officer aboard, so this made me feel super good.

ONE OF THE NEWER DESTROYERS that had been out from the STATES for a few months had several cases of trouble with their equipment, and hadn't been able to get it fixed.  The FATHOMETER was the toughest to analyze, but I found that it required two separate sets of contacts to make and break in synchronism in order to function correctly.  With this fixed, they were now 100% operational, and their Captain was elated.  At his recommendation, two of the other "TECKS" on the DIXIE, Norm Murdock, Bob Koehler and myself were called up to a "CAPTAIN'S MAST" for a little ceremony wherein our Captain, after expressing a few words of praise, read the letter of commendation for our doing such a superior job, and that the NAVY and our COUNTRY should be very proud of us.

ANOTHER CLASS OF SHIP had been designed and built in great numbers after the start of the war, & specifically for escort work so that the DESTROYER FLEET could turn its full attention to the destruction of the enemy supply lines.   This was the "DESTROYER ESCORT".  They were smaller and lighter than the DESTROYER CLASS, but looked a lot alike.  Their armament was a little different.  Instead of dual 5 inch 38 caliber gun turrets, they carried a "HEDGE-HOG" on the bow of the ship.  This was a group of about two dozen rocket propelled projectiles, and was usually brought into play during amphibious operations for bombardment of beach installations prior to the landing of troops.  These rockets could be fired in rapid succession volleys, and proved to be very devastating.  They also carried the standard compliment of torpedoes and depth-charges.  Being smaller, they could be built in less time & cost, and be assigned to escort duty, thus allowing the ships of the DESTROYER CLASS to do the patrol work they were doing so effectively.

ONE OF THESE DESTROYER ESCORTS was tied up alongside the DIXIE for about a week while the DIXIE'S "TECKS" were trying to solve a serious problem with her search radar (built by RCA).  Ted Rowan, who had gone through the TREASURE ISLAND electronics course, and later came aboard the DIXIE, was assigned to this job, and assisted by a couple of the other tecks on the DIXIE.  After several days, they asked for help from the RCA field engineer stationed on the island.  He came over and after several more days still hadn't found the problem.  Then Ted asked me if I wouldn't mind coming over to take a look, because everybody had about come to the end of their rope.

I WENT OVER, and the RCA engineer went through all of the tests to be made in the process of trouble-shooting, including a lot of waveform analysis.  Everything looked normal, but still the system was not firing up the high voltage mercury rectifiers.  I inquired about the history of that unit prior to the present time.  They noted that a small transformer had gone defective, and had been rewound and replaced.  It was a booster transformer in the main power supply and had been incorporated in the original equipment because the HIGH VOLTAGE applied was not adequate to fire the mercury vapor rectifiers.  At this point, I stated that the transformer windings had not been correctly polarized when re-installed, and that the transformer was actually performing like a bucking unit, resulting in inadequate high voltage to fire the rectifiers.

I RECOMMENDED that we "POWER-DOWN" the equipment and reverse one set of windings on the transformer.  The engineer said, "Okay, but I don't think it will do any good."  I chose to make the change myself, since he wasn't at all enthusiastic about the idea.  Then we fired up the equipment again, and "WALLA", everything worked perfectly!!  The engineer was so embarrassed that he could hardly find words to explain why he hadn't considered that booster transformer, even though he knew it had been taken out and replaced.  Ted was very complimentary and said to me, "I'm sure glad you came over, JJ.  I just knew you could find the trouble, and this engineer was so conceited and pushy that no one could do anything but listen." Well, they had all had their chance at it, and no one had stopped to think the thing out.  Otherwise I'm sure it wouldn't have dragged out that way, and one of the ships of the fleet wouldn't have been needlessly out of service for over a week.  At any rate, I was extremely flattered by Ted's words, and my ego soared at having showed up one of RCA's engineers.

DURING OUR 14 MONTH STAY at ESPRITO SANTOS, we had as many as ten destroyers tied up alongside the DIXIE, and there were another two or three dozen anchored to buoys all over the harbor, undergoing electrical, electronic and mechanical repairs.  The technicians in the repair shop, as well as ship-fitters, welders, etc., from other divisions aboard the DIXIE were also dispatched to the other destroyers anchored all over the harbor as the work-orders came in.

THE DIXIE was like a mini-navy yard, with the exception that it was very close to the war zone.  We worked from 8:00AM until late at night seven days a week because of the work-load on all those destroyers, some of which had suffered heavy hull damage from enemy gunfire and torpedoes.

WE HAD A FLOATING DRY-DOCK based there for repair of the bad cases of hull damage, after which some of them had to return to the STATES for final repair at a navy yard.  One destroyer had taken a torpedo in the engine room, and you could see right through the ship.  It did not sink because the water-proof bulkheads throughout the ship remained intact.  It was towed into the dry-dock, and after all the water was pumped out of the dry-dock, repair crews went down to survey the damage.  There were several bodies so badly mangled that they couldn't be identified, and one sailor lying face-down on the catwalk.  The repair officer said, "Well, here's one that we can identify".  But when they turned the body over, the face stuck to the catwalk (a very gruesome sight).  With the time between the battle damage and getting towed into dry-dock, serious body decay had set in, & the smell of death was so strong that some of the repair crew had to go back up on deck.  That ship was patched up on the two sides & towed back to the STATES.  I never learned what had happened to her.  I felt fortunate in not being one in the repair party which went aboard that ship.

ONE NIGHT as I was returning to the DIXIE from one of the destroyers tied up alongside, I had a close call.  There were several ships to cross over before reaching the DIXIE, and a short gang-plank was laid across the gap between them.  There, a short chain gate was unsnapped between two stakes of the chain railing around the ship at the deck edge & this was our means of getting back & forth.  On this particular night, I was following someone else, and with blackout conditions in effect, we could hardly see, so I kept close behind this person, thinking that it would be easier to get back.  We were still about three ships away from the DIXIE, and as he stepped out onto where the gang-plank was supposed to be, he disappeared.  I stopped short and could dimly make out that there was no gang-plank, and that he had fallen down into the water about 10 feet below.  The plank must have been removed just minutes before for whatever reason, and was to be put back immediately, but not soon enough.  There were a couple of shouts from the other ship and someone momentarily played a flashlight downward to illuminate his head while someone else threw down a rope and pulled him up after he had tied himself to it.  The plank was put back & I proceeded on to the DIXIE, this time being extra careful.  Had it not been for the ships' fenders (woven bundles of manila rope suspended between the ships just above the water line) he could have been crushed.

IT DOESN'T TAKE MUCH imagination to realize the marathon nightmare the DESTROYER crewmen experienced in this relentless struggle of "KILL OR BE KILLED" activity going on month in & month out.  They were on the cutting edge of hurling back a frenzied enemy.  Out on patrol, their ships were on a 24 hour per day high alert, & "GENERAL QUARTERS", meaning "MAN YOUR BATTLE STATIONS" could be called at any minute.  There could be no regular meals, so the crew had to exist on the likes of spam sandwiches and other held food most of the time.  As a small token of appreciation for the efforts and trials of those un-sung heroes, the DIXIE spread out the welcome matt each and every day their ships were in port by inviting them over to enjoy some of the best food prepared in the NAVY.  On Sundays, it was especially nice because it was as close to a thanksgiving dinner as you could get.  Those of us crewmen of the DIXIE had to wait in the chow line for extra hours due to the large number of destroyer personnel who came over to the DIXIE for these special dinners.  We regarded them with awe and high respect, and had no desire to trade places with them at any time.

A DESTROYER DIVISION consisted of four ships, & four divisions made up a squadron, of which there were a large number based at Esprito Santos.  A division was identified by a number unique to itself such as "DESDIV-16" and four of these would be assigned to a squadron likewise identified -- such as "DESRON-8", etc.  Orders from regional fleet command such as "COMSOPAC" would be sent to squadron commanders and from there to division commanders.  Their specific mission was for a division to be assigned to patrol designated areas between the Solomon Islands and the Japanese Homeland, and to sink all supply ships and submarines they could detect.  Generally each division of a squadron would be on patrol for about three weeks & then one would return to base after being relieved by another one.  The duty periods would be staggered such that one division after another would be the replacement.  Typically, three of the four divisions would be on patrol at all times.

THE JAPANESE WOULD TRY to sneak their supply ships into the area at night to the various islands where they had garrisons stationed.  And it was here where Radar was tremendously effective, because with the search radar, our ships could see the exact positions of all ships within their range, plus they could see the outlines of the islands and maneuver with complete confidence.  Also, with the fire control radar, they could aim the 5 inch rifles and torpedoes and sink the enemy surface ships as easily as in daylight.

THE NAVY HAD two types of radar...SEARCH RADAR to detect ships and aircraft from distances out to about 100 miles, and FIRE CONTROL RADAR to lock onto ships and aircraft both day and night.  The fire control radar was extremely accurate in making direct hits on the enemy, and both types were standard equipment on all warships from Destroyers to Cruisers to Battleships.  They could attack in utter darkness as effectively as in the daylight, while the enemy ships were like sitting ducks in a shooting gallery -- not having the ability to know where their attackers were.  (An interesting note here is that as good as the radar equipment was on the ships of the World War II Navy, it would compare with present-day Radar much as the 1940 autos would compare with the 1990 models).  Often-times when one of their ships was sunk, our Destroyer would play search-lights on the scene and offer to pick up the Japanese crewmen from the water, but they would turn away, preferring to try for land the next day in their small boats, or drown rather than being taken captive, because they had been told of the torture they would face as prisoners.  (Actually this was the kind of treatment that American prisoners received at the hands of the Japanese.  My wife's twin brother, Glenn, had been on a Minesweeper in the Philippines, and had been transferred ashore, & later was taken prisoner.  When the Japanese captured the Islands, he was one of those who suffered through the "Bataan Death March".)  (Editor's note:  Though Uncle Glenn was captured in the Philippines after the fall of Corregidor, he was not part of the Bataan Death March.  He did endure many hardships as a POW of the Japanese, primarily in camps on Formosa, now called Taiwan.  He also spent a few weeks in the Japanese prison camp at Cabanatuan in the Philippines before being taken to Formosa, and met many of the survivors of the death march while there.)

FOR A LONG TIME his family thought he had been killed, because his ship had been reported sunk.  It was with indescribable joy that they learned of his return to the STATES, and could hardly wait for his return home.  (Editor's note:  When Uncle Glenn returned to his home in Farmington, Utah, and was visiting with the family, a neighbor came over to tell his father h had a phone, as the family did not have their own phone.  When his father returned, he smiled and told them the call was from the Navy, advising him that Glenn had been returned to the US and would be home soon.  They all thought it was quite funny.)

MEANWHILE, BACK AT THE BASE we would have an almost nightly alert when the enemy would send a small bomber over from some island in the area, and would drop a few bombs on the harbor.  However, no ships were ever hit or damaged.  Because of the peculiar "PUT-PUT" sounds it made, we named the bomber "WASHING MACHINE CHARLIE", and each night when he came over, a flight of BELL AIR-COBRAS would take off from the airfield on Esprito Santos to intercept him, but he always got away.  We could monitor the take-off of the planes in the flights on the radio -- a special "all-band" unit, and could listen to the pilot's voices in reports such as "Joker Red One is now airborne". Then our imagination would fill in the rest.

QUITE OFTEN we would be faced with a time consuming repair on a destroyer's "search radar pedestal", which was mounted at the top of the ship's mast.  The ship would have to be moved next to the Dixie so that we could hoist the pedestal/antenna assembly over onto the boat deck with one of the Dixie's cranes.  The repair consisted of re-soldering the main coax line joint inside the pedestal (the solder in this joint would break with the twisting action of the antenna even though the slip-joint was ok), then hoisting the assembly back onto the Destroyer's mast.  The task of moving the destroyer in next to the Dixie involved cutting loose the other 8 or more ships alongside, & then tie them all back in place, which was an all day activity in addition to interrupting the repair work going on with the other ships.  So, I devised a system of brackets and turnbuckles which could be attached to the assembly and separate the upper half of the pedestal while still in place on the mast, re-soldering the joint, and then bolting the two halves back together.  The job could be completed in about four hours without having to move any of the ships tied up alongside.  The rotating antenna above the pedestal was about the same size and shape as the springs of a full-sized bed, and the whole assembly weighed about 400 pounds.  The Chief of the shop was quite impressed.

A REAL SAD INCIDENT occurred when another Destroyer, the USS DYSON was diagnosed with having the same problem late at night just a few hours before her division had orders to get underway for its patrol assignment.  However, the solder joint had been discontinued and replaced by a silverweld, thus breaking a section of the outer tube of the coaxial line.  So we were back to square-one -- hoisting it over onto the Dixie's boat deck.  We tried to get permission from the division commander to have the ship's departure delayed until the next day, but it was refused, and she had to go out that night.  This search radar was a critical part of a ship's early warning system in order to be prepared for an enemy aerial attack.  But with the broken coax joint, there was too much interference on the display tube and the radar being useless was turned off.  That ship was attacked by an enemy flight of torpedo bombers, & without enough warning, was sunk with over half of the crew going down with the ship.  The average crew on a destroyer consisted of about 150 men.  Myself and two others from the repair shop on the Dixie had become quite well acquainted with the technicians on that ship, and it was a real shock and sense of personal loss to learn of their fate.  For the next few weeks, I was sick at heart, knowing that we could have fixed their trouble if given a little time.

AFTER 14 MONTHS at Esprito Santos, the Dixie received orders to proceed to Sidney, Australia to provide the crew with 10 days of shore leave.  The trip took about a week through some choppy ocean which made even the 10,000 ton ship Dixie shudder each time she came down over those monster waves.  We stopped at New Caledonia for one day enroute to Sidney.  The water-way from the ocean to Sidney harbor was about a mile long with palisades on both sides beautifully landscaped like park-land and people were there in goodly numbers enjoying the beautiful weather.  One of the electronic tecks from Treasure Island, Ted Rowan, was with me one day in down-town Sidney and we stopped at a music store where I purchased a record album of organ music and several vocal numbers.  Then later, when I was transferred off the Dixie, and sent back to the STATES for 30 days leave, I forgot to take the album with me, and concluded that I would never see it again.  But fate smiled on me, & I saw him again in Leyte Gulf in the Philippines when we came alongside the Dixie to have our fresh water storage tanks in the bow of our ship the USS Estes repaired.  Ted was by then Chief of the repair shop on the Dixie, and reminded me of the album, which I gratefully took with me, and still have it at home in California.  Ted had come aboard the Dixie about six months after we put in at Esprito Santos, and I met him again after the war where he was working for Hewlett Packard in Palo Alto, and living in Sunnyvale.  They had come to visit us in Pocatello while on vacation, & some of you probably remember that we took them out for an afternoon of boating on American Falls Lake.  We saw him several times after we moved here to California.  He has since retired and lives in Turlock, Calif.  Maybe sometime we'll be able to get out there and visit them again.

AFTER LEAVING SIDNEY, we proceeded to the harbor at the island of Tulagi, across the "IRON BOTTOM STRAIT" from Guadalcanal, where we continued with the work on Destroyers.  By now this location was considered a rear area, and closer to the battle action so that repairs could be accomplished with less delay.  After a few months, the Dixie again moved to the harbor at Ondonga, located at the western end of Guadalcanal, but it was too exposed, and after about a month we moved back to Tulagi.  During our short stay at Ondonga, some of us in the repair shop went out on one of the motor-launch tours of the island of Kollomongara about five miles to the west.  We spent a good part of the day tramping through the jungle, looking for signs of material left behind by the Japanese.  We found several boxes of ammunition including large 3" projectiles, but we didn't touch anything because we had been warned of the possibility that it had been wired up as mines.  We came upon several villages of natives who were very friendly, and some of them spoke enough English that we were able to learn a little about them.  They told us that they were treated almost like prisoners while the island was occupied.  Also, we learned a few things about their social life.  The women would leave the village to go to their garden sites where they cultivated vegetables, and would then bring back enough for cooking, etc.  Meanwhile, the men would stay behind to guard the village, which usually consisted of half-dozen families and huts.  We thought that was a very curious social arrangement.  They had a number of interesting curios, including rare sea-shells, which we bought.  Another humorous twist was that even though they knew American currency, and had no trouble with our paper money, they had an extreme distrust of our silver coins.  They would refuse to take payment in silver, but readily accepted the "greenbacks".

WHILE AT TULAGI, I was promoted to Chief Petty Officer, and transferred to the chief's quarters on the Dixie.  That was a quantum step up from the situation back in the enlisted men's quarters.  The Chief's dining room was separate also, and for Breakfast, we could order our meal and while sitting at the table, wait for the cooks to bring it to us.  It was quite a different life being a Chief, & since the former Chief had been promoted to Warrant Officer status and transferred, I became chief of the repair shop on the Dixie.  Then, about a month later, I was informed that I had been promoted to Warrant Officer status about two weeks before I was promoted to being Chief Petty Officer.  So, I was again transferred, this time to the Warrant Officers Quarters, and here came another quantum leap in the life style aboard the Dixie.  If I thought that the Chief's quarters and food were an improvement, the accommodations and food in the Warrant Officers quarters was like living in the "KING'S COURT".  We dined on delicious steak and other succulent dishes all the time. There were about 30 Chiefs, and only about 16 Warrant Officers aboard, and we were bunked 4 to a room, whereas all the Chiefs bunked in one room.  Life aboard the Dixie, however, was nearing the end, because with the promotion to Warrant Grade, I was scheduled for leave and re-assignment.

ABOUT 10 DAYS LATER, the orders came through for my transfer, and I was sent over to the beach installation on Tulagi, and after a week, on over to Guadalcanal along with four other Naval officers also awaiting transfer.  After about a week on Guadalcanal, a Jeep Carrier put in at the harbor and we (about 75 officers from the rank of Commander down to Warrant Officers) were transferred aboard & bound for the states.  The Jeep Carriers were so light that they floated like a wood-chip on the water, and in the rough seas as we walked along the below-deck passage ways, we had to keep both arms outstretched sideways to keep from banging into the walls, or bulkheads as they were called by the navy.  Also with the pitching of the ship, we were alternately walking through the air one minute, and then our knees were driving into the deck.  The carrier stopped in at Palakuli bay in the New Hebrides to pick up additional personal, then in Pearl Harbor, & finally dropped us off at Port Hueneme (pronounced wye-nee-me), Calif., in landing craft because there was no harbor.  The coxswain marched the craft at about half throttle right up to an almost vertical beach, and it was like hitting a brick wall.  There were about 40 people aboard and not a man was left standing.   A Lieutenant Commander who had gone down with the rest of us jumped up and yelled at the coxswain, "Why don't you come on back with us and we'll show you how it's done!"  The poor coxswain was really chagrined.

WELL, ANOTHER Warrant Officer and myself went on to Los Angeles and had both grey and Navy Blue uniforms tailored for us, and then I left on the train for San Francisco, and stayed for a few days with my sisters Mona and LaNae, who were working in the City.  Then, I left for home, arriving in August to finish out my 30 days leave.

I ARRIVED at Ogden at night, and Uncle Vern & Aunt Venetta Bush & two of their daughters, Josie and Vernona met me at the train station.  After the first Hello's with Vern & Net, I started over to say "Hi" to those two teenagers, but when they saw me coming, they ran around the car like scared rabbits to get away.  Somewhat surprised, I stopped and asked Aunt Net what was the matter, & she laughed and said that they had never met a Navy Officer before, and were too frightened to let me get close to them.  So, I just waited there talking until they finally got up the nerve to come over (they were so cute, I don't know who was more scared, them or I). I stayed a few days with the Bushes, & then they took me down to the train station to catch the Malad Local, a two car diesel "TOONERVILLE TROLLEY".  It was on the ride to Malad that I first became aware of the dry heat.  Until I became acclimated felt like my throat & lungs were burning up, and I almost dried up and blew away.  A few days after I had arrived, Dad & I had gone down town, and the first person we met started telling us about a huge bomb that the Air Force had dropped on Japan, which had the power of 20,000 tons of TNT.  That was quite mind boggling, and it was much later that we learned of the nature of that bomb -- the "Atom Bomb" dropped on Hiroshima.  Then, as a sort of one-two punch, a second atom bomb was dropped on Nagasaki.  (Editor's note:  as this was mentioned before Iwo Jima and Okinawa, it likely happened on a separate leave after the Okinawa campaign, but at dad's age, he misplaced the events in their sequence.  When the Estes returned to the US after the Okinawa campaign, he probably had another leave and visited his home town before returning to San Diego to await out-processing.)

GAS RATIONING was in full force, so travel was rather restricted, but I had been given a 30 day allotment of gas stamps as part of the "LEAVE PACKAGE", so we did some traveling around to visit friends and relatives during the rest of my vacation.  An impressive part of the travel was the visit to the Naval Gun Plant in Pocatello where they manufactured the big 18" gun barrels for the Missouri class battleships.  During our stay in Pocatello, we spent some time with Uncle Lawrence and Aunt Cleopha Walker and their daughter Wendy.  She was a perfect little sweetheart & I still have some pictures they took of Wendy and myself, she being all decked out in her little Sailor Suit.

AT THE END of my 30 day leave, my orders took me to San Diego to the Destroyer repair base while awaiting further orders. During that time, I went aboard a number of ships, doing a bit of trouble shooting and repair.  The personnel there were quite inexperienced with typical circuit problems, and one incident stands out.  This ship had a fathometer which would not function, but every test they made left them still wondering where the trouble was.  So, when I went aboard and fired up the unit, I could tell right away that the trouble was a power transformer which had high voltage leakage and which was one of the most frequent causes of breakdown on that particular equipment.  So, I ordered a replacement transformer & installed it, and everything worked normal.  I took the transformer back to the shop and explained to the Lieutenant that the problem could only be detected with a megger, since the leakage resistance was so high.  I could see that he didn't believe me, but he couldn't argue that it wasn't the problem, because the equipment was now working properly.  I explained that this particular run of transformers had not been sealed properly in the manufacturing process and that a whole run of production had been installed in ships of the fleet.  Moisture had worked it's way into the windings, resulting in the overload.  As I went about other tasks, I kept watching him out of the corner of my eye, and was amused when he finally checked out a megger to ring out the windings to ground.  The very high leakage resistance would break down somewhat like a zener diode, and would be impossible to detect on an ohmmeter.  He hardly spoke to me after that, and I could only presume that he was thoroughly intimidated by the incident.  I would suspect that he did some rather extensive reading on the subject in various textbooks, but I had never seen a treatise on the phenomenon anywhere.  It probably haunted him for the rest of his life.

AFTER A FEW WEEKS at the San Diego base, I got orders to proceed to San Francisco for transportation to my next duty station.  While there, we were given the swimming and survival instructions as previously mentioned in the accounts of "IRON BOTTOM BAY" in the Solomon Islands.  About two dozen Naval Officers and myself were then put on board an LST "LANDING SHIP-TANK". We had no escort, and the slow ship rolled like a barrel, taking about three weeks to reach Pearl Harbor.  One young Navy Ensign got so sick that he spent the last week unable to get out of his bunk, and they had to feed him by I/V.  When the orders came through, I found that I would be on the staff of the commander of Amphibious Forces Group I, which was headed up by Rear Admiral W.H.P. Blandy.  An Admiral is called a "FLAG OFFICER" and his staff is called a "FLAG", to indicate that it is a command group to coordinate the activities of the various units of a Task Force under its command.  Each Admiral, being a flag officer has his own personal type flag which is flown on the mast beneath the STARS & STRIPES.  Admiral Blandy was an old-timer specializing in ordinance, or bombardment, so he was a natural for the assignment to command Group I, which was the pre-invasion bombardment group.

MY MAILING ADDRESS was "STAFF, COMMANDER AMPHIBIOUS GROUP I, IN CARE OF F.P.O SAN FRANCISCO", & I was amused by the comment from one of my old friends from Malad (Grant Ripley) who at that time was stationed in England.  In his first letter to me, he said, "Hey, Joe, what's all this Staff Commander Business?  It looks like you are really going up in the world".  (In those days, everyone was called by that name --Joe --by everyone else.  Similarly while attending the Western Electrical College in S.L.C., everyone was called "BUTCH").

I WOULD SOON FIND OUT that our flagship would be the USS ESTES (now in the final stages of outfitting in the Navy Yard at Pearl Harbor), and that we would be the pre-invasion bombardment group for any forthcoming campaigns. The USS ESTES was what is called a GROUP CONTROL COMMUNICATIONS FLAGSHIP, and our first operation which was still top-secret, would be the capture of the island of IWO JIMA, about 600 miles from Japan.  This information was not made known to us until we were underway bound for our target.  The strategic importance of this island would be as a forward emergency landing base for the B-29 bombers on their return flight to Saipan.  In this regard, many lives and planes would be saved in the course of the war.  It was estimated that after hostilities ceased, about 30,000 airmen's lives had been saved.

OUR TASK FORCE was just a part of the multi-faceted activities of the 5th Fleet, and when we got underway, the ships were so numerous that one could look out in any direction and see that there were ships reaching beyond the horizon.  The USS ESTES and the battleships and cruisers were in the center of the task force, and were surrounded by a vast number of destroyers operating as a protective screen against submarines and aircraft.  Several Aircraft Carriers were also in our group to provide air cover during the operation.  We were scheduled to commence the island bombardment 10 days prior to the invasion, at which time two Marine Divisions would land on the beaches to secure the island.  A Marine division consisted of from 20,000 TO 25,000 men. The battleships and heavy cruisers banged away at the island and its beaches for 10 days, and at the same time the air force bombers from Saipan added to the thunderous din with their loads of bombs.  While standing on the deck of the Estes when the battleships were firing their big guns, I could see the projectiles (little red lights) arching up into the sky, and coming down on the island with a thunderous explosion & dust.  All through the night, small craft including Destroyer Escorts would provide harassing fire by bombarding the island with their Hedge-hogs and 20 & 40 millimeter machine guns, to keep the enemy from relaxing.  The Japanese garrison was dug in with such an elaborate underground system, that the bombardment from the big naval guns and the air force bombers from Saipan, were not able to neutralize them.  The invasion, which was originally planned to take 3 days to a week, was to ultimately take over a month, and with a third division of Marines sent ashore to replace the tremendous casualties suffered in trying to penetrate the underground defenses.

THE ESTES WAS POSITIONED about two miles off-shore during the bombardment, and Admiral Blandy, being the old Gunnery type, kept ordering the captain to come in a little closer so he could "..see the whites of their eyes..".  About the time we would be within a little less than a mile from the beaches, a battery of shore guns up on the side of Mount Surabachi would start taking pot-shots at us.  Geysers of water would erupt on either side of the ship, and the voice of Vice Admiral Turner (in overall charge of the campaign on the USS Mount McKinley -- a sister ship to the USS Estes, -- would come in over the "TBS" ship to ship radio ordering Blandy to "..get your [censored] out of there before you get it blown off!".  We would then back off to a safe distance, only to have the same thing happen a few hours later.  How exciting, but the enemy gunners were not very accurate, so we never took any "hits".

IT WAS A THRILL to all of us onlookers when it was announced that our flag "OLD GLORY" had been raised, and was flying at the top of Mount Surabachi.  We could view it through one of the ship's telescopes on the flying bridge of the Estes.

DURING THE CAMPAIGN, our mission aboard the Estes was coordination of the joint operation of Army, Navy, Marines and Air Force.  The Estes had more communications equipment aboard than I could have imagined until I saw it.  I should note here that the USS MOUNT MCKINLEY and the ESTES, had the same compliment of communication equipment.  There were four of these "Communication Flagships" in service.  They were modified Victory Ships which were heavier than, and succeeded the earlier Liberty ship built by Kaiser Shipyards in Sausalito, Ca.  Much earlier, during our shake down cruises out of Pearl Harbor, we would be testing out all of the capabilities of said equipment.  There were 125 all-band receivers in Radio Central, which looked about the size of a basketball court.  Then there were 55 high power transmitters aft in two transmitter rooms.  Additionally, we installed 18 Army type VHF transceivers up on the flying bridge in a separate room built especially for them.  Then there were 35 remote radio-telephone stations in various locations aboard, including units in a number of officers' quarters, the Pilot House, Captain's quarters, the CIC (COMBAT INFORMATION CENTER), and the JOINT OPERATIONS ROOM, which was large enough to contain a huge table about 6 feet by 20 feet.  Under it's glass top was a giant map of the entire operations area, and a representative of each of the Armed Services was stationed there, and with a pair of headphones on a long cord, could receive reports from his units.  And with small moveable markers representing ships or ground units, etc., could keep the entire operation up to date, showing the positions of every participating group in the operation.  There was no unit in the entire task force that we couldn't talk to, including the Air Force.  I was assigned to supervise the maintenance of Radio Central, the Repair Shop (with 10 technicians of Ship's Company), and all of the remote radio-telephone units aboard.  Tony Cimildoro, the other warrant officer on the Flag was to supervise the VHF transceivers, and to assist the Ship's Company warrant officer (Trobridge) with maintenance & set-up of the transmitters in the AFT area of the ship.  Each receiver and each transmitter aboard had voice and control circuits run to Radio Central to two giant patch panels.  This enabled us to patch any transmitter and any receiver to any of the remote control units.  There was also a teletype installation of Army issue, coupled to a VHF transmitter up on the bridge.  It had never functioned, so I undertook the task of putting it in service.  I added controls so the printers could be checked by throwing a triple gang switch to position 2, and typing XY's from one printer to the other.  Then I went up to the bridge and found that the VHF transmitter and receiver were not match/loaded and tuned to the antenna.  With this done, I went back and made some calls and got immediate responses from other ships using the same system.  The ship's Radio Officer, Lieutenant Heaps, was elated & said, "We can actually go on the air with our Teletype system".

BECAUSE OF TIME CONSTRAINTS, I was not ready for this part of the testing until we were in the midst of the Okinawa operation.  There was also a coding unit using "ONE-TIME TAPES", which could be tied into the teletype system for total security, even when typing the message in plain English, but we never got this system into operation because the Okinawa campaign was the final island invasion of the war.  Operation of this coding system required one unit to be at the transmitting site, and another at the receiving site, each with one of the matching tapes.  When the "TRANSMITTED" message was mixed with the signals on the accompanying "TAPE A/B", it was garbled in the air transmission.  Then at the "RECEIVING SITE B", the garbled message was mixed with "MATCHING TAPE B" which resulted in recovering the English version of the message on the printer.  Those two tapes were uniquely matched to each other, and were different than any other tapes made.  Therefore the coding was different than any other message.  If the "TRANSMITTER A" was to then transmit to "RECEIVER C", a different set of tapes -- "A/C" was used so that then the tape at "SITE C" could decode the message.  A myriad of codes followed in quick succession, so that it would be an endless task of finally running the right codes even for a short message.

WE LEFT IWO JIMA before the campaign was over because one night when we were doing the usual night-time zig-zagging (there was no protected harbor at IWO JIMA), another ship zigged when we zagged, and her propellers cut a big hole in our bow.  It was the location of one of our fresh water storage tanks, so we had to take showers with salt water, which left us feeling sticky.  Since our ship was doing nothing but observing at this point, we were ordered to proceed to the PHILIPPINES to Leyte Gulf to have repairs made.  (MacArthur had done his work, and the Philippine campaign was winding down.)  It was there that I again came in contact with the USS DIXIE.  She was now stationed there because the focus of all naval operations had moved to the western Pacific area.  We tied up alongside the DIXIE while her shipfitters and welders performed the repairs to our bow.  While there, Ted Rowan, who was now Chief of the repair shop, gave me the record album that I had left there.

REPAIRS TOOK ABOUT 10 days, and when we left the Philippines, we proceeded to Ulithi (about 600 miles south & west of Iwo Jima), which was a huge lonely lagoon ringed by small islands and sand bars.  There, we took on supplies and ammunition while other ships of the fleet were gathering there.  Then, when all units were ready some four weeks later, we all filed out through the enterance, and the great task force now set its course for Okinawa for a repeat performance of the campaign at Iwo Jima.  This one took longer because Okinawa was about 50 times larger than Iwo. IN THIS CAMPAIGN, the bombardment of the beaches would pause periodically while "UDT" (UNDERWATER-DEMOLITION TEAMS) would come in to destroy tank traps and other obstacles.  Army ground troops were assigned the task of securing this island.  We were through with our part and had left before the island was finally secured.

DURING THE CAMPAIGN, the Japanese suicide planes were coming over to take out as many ships as possible, but most of them were being shot down by the C.A.P. (COMBAT AIR PATROL) about half way between Japan and Okinawa, where the Aircraft Carrier task force was waiting for them.  We had our casualties, also.  We lost several carriers as well as some Cruisers.  Most of the time during the campaign, we were anchored in a small bay, and the fog equipment on each ship was used to generate a cloud so large that we couldn't be seen from the air or the sea.  It was somewhat like the weather here in Pacifica.  The ships were at "GENERAL QUARTERS" 24 hours a day, and the gunner's nerves were being worn down with the constant "BOGY" alerts.  One night, while the ships' phone "TALKERS" (one being stationed at each gun emplacement) were relaying the bogy flight information, one gunner thought he saw a light in the sky and without permission, he aimed his 20 millimeter machine gun and let go.  The tracers of the flying bullets could be seen like a string of beads reaching up into the foggy sky.  Then, another gunner thought he saw what was being shot at, and he turned loose also.  At that point, the two tracer trails formed a crossfire in the sky, and every gun in the harbor cut loose at it.  The gunners were trying to lead the "target", and the combined crossfire was weaving back and forth in the night sky.  It was quite a sight before the commanders were able to get orders to the gunners to cease fire.  The next morning, the Navy received a scathing communication from the Army on the island condemning the irresponsible shelling of the island, with shrapnel falling on the positions of our ground troops.  It had all come from that wild shoot-out into the night sky at an aircraft that was never there.  We had quite a laugh about that one.

DURING THE LATTER PART of the Okinawa campaign, some of the ships were permitted to leave the fog cloud and cruise for a little shakedown.  One afternoon, we were out with our escort -- a destroyer on port side, one on starboard, & one fore & aft.  Then came word that there was a bogy coming our way.  The sky was overcast with a ceiling of about six thousand feet, and suddenly someone yelled "THERE HE IS!", as he broke through the clouds.  A lot of people were out on deck watching for him, and they all scattered, because he was coming down straight for us.  We had to go down a ladder to the next level to get to the water-tight door and get inside for some protection.  I arrived at the door just as they were pulling it shut, and with a mighty tug, I pulled it open again to get inside, and in doing so, pulled about three of them outside (such panic).  Just then, word came that the destroyer on the starboard side had hit him and he came down and exploded about one thousand yards to our starboard.

ANOTHER TIME AT ULITHI, before we started for Okinawa, the crew had rigged the screen up on deck for a movie.  It was just dark enough to start the film, and a few minutes into the show, an aircraft flew overhead at about 300 feet.  We all thought it was one of our own, but then the ship just behind us lit up like 4th of July fireworks in the midst of a huge explosion.  That was a really close call for us--it had been a lone Jap suicide plane from somewhere, and no lookouts had sounded the alarm.  As we were running to the watertight door, I ran into several fog barrels in the semi-darkness that had been rolled out on deck, and as I came down after hurtling over them, I bent the middle finger on my right hand all the way back over the hand.  Amazingly, it wasn't broken, but was very painful, and I couldn't use it for much of anything for about a month.

AFTER ABOUT TWO MONTHS at Okinawa, we received orders to proceed to Saipan and from there to return to the states for deactivation.  For us, the war was over.  At Saipan, we sent liberty parties ashore for a couple of days before proceeding to Pearl Harbor.  All officers wore side-arms on the islands as possible protection against any Jap stragglers who may have hidden out in the jungles.  I was put in charge of one motor-launch full of about 40 sailors coming back to the ship on the second day, & when we arrived at the  ship, the "Officer-of-the-Deck" asked if I had taken a count of those coming aboard, (they wanted to be sure that all of the personnel were on board before shoving off) to which I replied in the negative, and his response was "Well, there wouldn't be anyone foolish enough to jump-ship on the return trip to the STATES". I could have reminded him that it was his responsibility to make the count as the sailors were coming aboard.  At Pearl Harbor, our flag was transferred to a carrier for the remainder of the trip home.

WE WERE PUT ASHORE at the Amphibious Training Base (ATB) on the Silver Strand on the ocean side of the San Diego harbor, and when things had settled down, I decided to locate a ward of the Church.  (Editor's note:  he was a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  A "ward" is a parrish or similar sized congregation.)  When I had determined which one was nearest, I took a trial run on the most direct bus routes so I could gage what time to leave the base and arrive on time for the meetings.  A ferry boat was the first leg to get across the harbor as part of the route.  Then the next Sunday, I arrived just as the Sunday School opening exercises were starting.  I took a seat about three from the isle & at the rear of the congregation on the right side.  Just before they started the opening hymn, a sweet & beautiful "WAVE" came in and sat down in the isle seat on the same row.  As we stood up to start singing, she moved closer and asked, "Would you like to sing from my book?" (she had her own).  So, we did, and when it came time to separate for classes, I said "Where does the Servicemens' class meet?".  She said, "Just stay with me, I'm going there".  After class, she invited me to go with her to the LDS Servicemens' Home, where they would gather each Sunday afternoon before coming back in the evening for Sacrament meeting.  I've never ceased to marvel at the incident of her coming in and sitting down there at such a moment.  It must have been programmed by the Lord, because I have never felt so close to heaven in my whole life.  For the next week we were going out on dates nearly every evening, and getting back to her base at Camp Kearney late at night.  It would take me about an hour to get back to the "ATB", but I could sleep in, whereas she had to be on duty by 8:00AM at the Western Union office at her base.  (Those were some pretty long days for her).  The next week, I got orders to proceed to San Francisco to the 12th Naval District for release to inactive duty within three days.  On that Saturday, we went into a Jeweler shop and I asked them to show us some diamond rings.  I hadn't popped the question yet, and when we had decided on a certain ring, I asked her to try it on.  Her hands were shaking so hard that she almost couldn't do it.

AFTER FINDING HEAVEN, I just couldn't leave right away, so I got to San Francisco about a week late.  There, the lieutenant was gruff and scolded me for not obeying orders time-wise, but I just smiled and thought to myself that it was all he could do, because my time in the Navy was over and my whole new life was waiting for me.


Return to Contributions Page
Return to USS Estes Association Home