Stories from the Forties

Picket Duty  (late March???, 1945) By Morris Gillett

The following is my recollection of an event involving the John W. Weeks DD701 while on picket duty some miles out in front of the fleet that made up a carrier task force. I am not sure of the date but believe it to have been in late March, 1945. In all likelihood it was after the amphibious landing on Okinawa and we may have still been part of Task Force 38.

At any rate escort vessels formed a screen well out in front of the fleet and served as radar and sonar pickets. Our pickets were responsible for sinking many small Japanese pickets that were on observation and radio patrols. Another very important function of picket duty was to maintain an alert watch for floating mines the Japanese planted in action areas. When they were spotted by a ship, they would be exploded. This was usually done with 20 mm gunfire while the mine was some distance from the ship. On occasions, however, we used a Springfield rifle to clear away the mine. For years I kept a piece of shrapnel that landed on our deck when a mine was exploded by rifle fire while it was rather close to the ship.

On the occasion of this experience we were well out in front of the fleet and an unidentified radar contact was made some distance off our port bow. It was a dark night. We assumed that it was another Japanese picket and we began to close on it. As we drew near, standard procedure was to challenge with a small light and with our electronic IFF gear. This we did but received no response. As we closed the challenge was repeated time and time again. Still there was no response and the Officer of the Deck ordered a starboard turn so we would be broadside to the unidentified vessel and could bring our five inch guns to bear. All three turrets were locked to the fire control radar and all that was needed was the command to load and fire. By this time Captain Theobald had the con and kept challenging the target but to no avail. Typical of his wisdom and leadership, Captain Theobald said, “Lock the search light into fire control and illuminate the target.” This was done and to our great surprise, we lit up a U. S. Navy PC boat. With a great rush its decks were filed with sailors and officers waving their arms. Why they had not been alert and received our challenges I never new. With a small light the patrol craft identified itself and asked, “Where are we?” The Captain’s answer was, “You are right in front of a fast carrier task force and you had better get out of the way.” Apparently the LSI had been part of the Okinawa landing force and was completely lost. Weeks notified the fleet of its presence and gave the LSI its location as well as a heading that would allow safe passage.

The Day The USS Hancock, Took A Jap Kamikaze Hit  (7 APRIL 1945) By Morris Gillett 

The following is my recollection of the action involving the John W. Weeks DD701 and the USS Hancock CV19 on 7 April 1945.  Primarily, the story is concerned with my personal experience (a little picture) on that day when Hancock took a Jap kamikaze (the big picture) to her flight deck, forward while Weeks was along side attempting to pass recon photos.  

Background At that time I was a Chief Radio Technician (CRT).  My general quarters station was aft in a small, portside cubical near the after chief’s quarters and below, approximately, the after torpedo tubes.  The cubical contained the ship’s electronic countermeasures (ECM) equipment.  Having gone to ECM school during Weeks’ short stay in Pearl Harbor in December, 1944, I was the only ECM qualified crewman.  Since most of the ECM duties were performed by larger ships in the fleet (carriers in particular) there was little or nothing for me to do during general quarters.  Consequently, I asked for a secondary GQ station and was assigned to a fire and damage control party normally stationed near the ECM cubical.  

The Rescue On the morning of 7 April, Weeks had been ordered to one of the carriers in the fleet to pick up some reconnaissance photographs of a large Japanese fleet that included the Battleship Yamato.  Weeks was to deliver them to Hancock.  As I recall the fleet flag was aboard her.  After having the photos passed to us, Weeks came along side Hancock to make the delivery.  When this attempt to pass the photos was made it was still rather early in the morning and we were still at sunrise general quarters.  However we were unable to make the transfer because of attacks by Japanese planes.  After pulling away Weeks and the rest of the fleet were busy with kamikaze aircraft.   

An hour or so later we made another attempt to make the delivery but again were frustrated by enemy planes.  About noon we were making a third attempt and were coming along side Hancock’s  portside again and preparing to fire lines to her.  At that moment a kamikaze broke through the defensive gunfire a struck Hancock on the flight deck, forward.  In an instant the water (mostly on the port side) was filled with men and debris blown overboard by the explosions.  Weeks immediately drop away from Hancock and assumed rescue duties.  Fortunately when a ship experienced damage, life rafts were instantly jettisoned into the sea.  Such was the case with Hancock and Weeks.  A large number of men were in the water and most were trying to reach one of the rafts.  

Seeing the peril of the men, many wounded, in the water men from Weeks, including me were in the water to assist getting the men, first to a raft then aboard our ship for attention.  I could see several men in the vicinity of one raft and swam to it as fast I was able.  Two men needed immediate help.  One had received serious flash burns and was clinging to the web-lines of the raft.  His hands were severely burned up to where his shirt sleeve had protected him.  Although flash burns from guns or bombs are severe, they can be prevented by as little as the thickness of a piece of cloth or the flash-burn ointment we normally wore during general quarters or any action.  At any rate this man without ointment was in bad shape.  As he clung to the lines, I could see them cutting through the burned flesh.  I shouted to him, “I have you” as I grabbed both his sleeved arms.  He relaxed completely and I was able to get him onto the raft without difficulty.  In addition to the hands, his neck, face and head were “burned white”.  

All this took little time because the sailor had cooperated with me without questioning.  Such was not the case with the second of the two men I had seen in trouble.  This sailor was not injured but he could not swim and although he had on an inflated life belt he had panicked and was threshing about toward the raft but was going nowhere.  I screamed to him to, “Knock it off, the belt will hold you up.”  He finally eased up and I was able to get him to the raft.  

By this time there were five or six men on the raft and my shipmates had gotten a line to it and we were able to get them along side where they were lifted aboard.  Most went immediately to sick bay.  

The Day's Humor (In hindsight) By this time Hancock had steamed away, turned and had most of the fires under control.  Weeks, dead in the water picking up survivors, was now some distance from the fleet.  By this time we had a boat in the water and those of us in the water climbed back aboard.  Most of the men in the water were on our port side, but from the deck I could see one man in a raft some distance off our starboard side.  He was waving but didn’t seem to be injured or in immediate trouble.  It appeared, however, that he had no paddle and couldn’t do much to move the large raft toward us.  As it happened we had a small, one man, air inflated dingy that had probably been a “gift” from one of the downed pilots we picked out of the water from time to time.  Since our boat was busy on the portside we had the hot idea, that I would use the little air raft to paddle out to the large raft with a line so the man could be pulled along side.  Well, here I was with the long line and trying to get to the guy when all of a sudden all hands were ordered aboard ship.  As sitting ducks we were under attack.  Dead in the water!  Well, all crewmen got back aboard except the boat crew and me.  The ship immediately got under way and here I am tethered to the fantail, starboard side in a small rubber raft.  Fortunately the line had been long enough that I was well astern the turbulence from the screws.  As the ship churned the water and gained speed the force of the water made the rubber raft wrap itself around me (like a fortune cookie) as I was being towed along with no way to get loose and I sure didn’t want out.   

End Of Joke The serious part of the event was that there was a Jap plane (later said to have been a Val) coming in on us from dead astern.  Separated from the fleet, with little steerage to maneuver and few guns to bear we were not in good shape.  Fate stepped in and before we started firing, a couple of Corsairs dropped out of the clouds and splashed the Val.  What a relief,  the ship stopped again and hand over hand I got myself back up that line to the ship and aboard in a hurry.  By this time only of our boat was in the water finishing the rescue.  As it turned out we got busy with other things in the fleet and had to go back later to recover the ship’s boat and, I assume, the man who had been waiting on the raft.  

Sometime later after things quieted down and I had had a chance to get into some clean, dry dungarees I visited sick bay.  In all I think we picked up close to thirty men and many of them were there in the sick bay and adjoining spaces.  Some were in passageways and as I recall some were either in the forward chief’s quarters or the wardroom dinning area.  I was unable to identify the burned man I had helped.  I assumed he was one of the sailors who had their heads and hands completely wrapped with wet bandages.

After transferring the wounded back to their ship where better medical facilities were available.  Weeks was running along the carrier’s port side as a number of sailors were buried at sea from Hancock’s elevator.   

How fortunate it was that Weeks was nearby to assist with the rescue of men in the water.  But at the same time, the men of the Hancock were saving their ship as well as their shipmates.  

The Irony Of It All By the time we finally delivered the photos of the Japanese fleet to the Admiral, the day’s action was ending and a large part of that fleet,  including the Yamato had been sunk by our planes.

On The Way To Pearl (Late November, 1944) By Morris Gillett  

With the exception of one little test run, Weeks had finished her new construction shake down and was ready for active service when I went aboard as her Chief Radio Technician.  I was just coming off a 30 day leave after some two and half years on the U. S. S. Badger DD126 .  My first few days were spent getting acquainted with the ship and crew members.  I was assigned to the after Chief’s Quarters and was continually amazed at the differences between  Weeks and  Badger.  It was so much larger and better manned than Badger.  For example, here I had help from other RT’s and even a shop for electronic maintenance.  As I recall their was an RT1c (Momertz) and an RT3c whose name I can’t remember.  I only wish I could remember the name of the Chief Radioman because we became good friends and he is the guy who gave me my nickname aboard the ship.  Everyone had a nickname even if it was just “Mack”.  Anyway the CRM labeled me “Junior” because I was, as a “slick armed chief” and by far the youngest CPO in the crew.  A slick armed chief was one who didn’t have a hash mark on his sleeve.  That is, a sailor who had made chief before completing one enlistment.  So Junior it was and would be as long as I was aboard.  Another good friend aboard was T. A. Perry, the Chief Electrician’s Mate.  Not only were we good friends aboard Weeks, but after the war also because we both lived in Dallas, Texas and were in the reserves together.  As a civilian, T. A. was a fireman for the Dallas Fire Department.  After Korea, we lost touch.   B

But I digress.  When Weeks was assigned to the Pacific we made the voyage as a member of a considerable fleet.  I can’t recall the names of the ship except the battleships Missouri, Texas and Arkansas.  Missouri, would become part of the Fast Carrier Fleets while the older and slower Texas and Arkansas would share in importance as part of the fleets supporting amphibious operations with their significant fire power for shore bombardment and anti-aircraft coverage.  I can’t remember their names but there were two or three carriers and a bunch of destroyers, mostly new like us.  Some of the new Tin Cans were sister ships of the same class and members of our squadron and division.  Although there was likely cruisers in the group, I can’t recall any.  Several of the ships, including Weeks embarked from New York harbor while others left from Brooklyn Navy Yard and some, maybe the carriers, joined us as we steamed down the east coast.  The carriers may have joined from Norfolk Naval Base or Air Station.   

Missouri, like a number of the ships, was new and making her first trip to the Pacific.  I recall that when she headed out she didn’t have her air search radar antenna at the top of her main mast.  As it turned out there was a bridge she couldn’t clear so the antenna had been left off until she cleared the bridge.  What a beautiful battleship!  

As the fleet proceeded south along the east coast and through the Mediterranean, drills were held and over all it was a great trip.  I remember Capt. Theobald allowed the crew to grow facial hair.  Mustaches and beards were not allow generally but he allowed it.  I tried to grow a beard, but more about that later.  

Reaching the Panama Canal was an exciting time for me.  I had been there several time but had never traversed the Canal.  My memory is vague but I believe there was liberty in Colon.  I may be thinking of another stop but I bought drinks for some of the “Blue Moon Girls” at a bar I knew.  The “Blue Moon Girls” weren’t whores but would dance, sit and talk.  The thing I remember about them was that when you bought a round of drinks, they received a chit that they use to claim a tip from the barkeep.  Although they drank only Coca Cola, the sailor paid the same as though it was a Rum and Coke.  

The big thing that happened in the canal was that Missouri had very little clearance in the locks and somewhere during passage scraped either the side or bottom of the lock.  This caused some concerned for her hull condition and she made a side trip to San Francisco so she could go into dry dock for inspection.  Weeks was assigned escort duty to accompany her to San Francisco.  

When we reached San Francisco, my scraggly beard had to go.  While on liberty I did two things.  One I went to one of the three for a quarter photo booths and had a picture made with my “salty fuss”.  Next I started looking for a barber shop where I could get a shave.  By this time it was late afternoon and the shops were beginning to close.  To this day I believe I closed all the barber shops in the lower Market Street/Ferry Building part of the city.  Those guy would see me coming, knew what I wanted and immediately rush to the door and lock it, wave me away and put out the “closed” sign.  In disgust, I finally returned to the ship a cut, scraped and shaved until the thing was gone.  One hell of a away to spend a liberty just before heading to the Pacific.  

As it turned out Missouri had not been damaged and after only a couple of days we were on our way to Pearl.

How I met Ellie and how the Weeks was involved By Hal Gross  

 Invitations to the Ships Commissioning were sent to families of the crew. Ellie and her parents did attend. After the ceremony the guests were shown around Top Side, Ellie saw a tall sailor while walking the ship, she asked her brother Ed Hagan his name, he said he would send it to her and she could write to him.  

Well she did just that, this sailor was in the bunk above me, one day in port I was going to the mess hall to write to my family, he saw my writing paper and he grabbed my (he was 6'4) and held out to me an envelope and said "Would you answer this letter" I asked if it was to a family member, he said "No, to a girl who was at the commissioning" I asked why, he replied "Well my hand writing is real bad!!  

Well I did so, and wrote to this girl for 10 months until he was transferred from the ship, then I started writing for the rest of the time we were out at sea,  in my own Name, and believe it or not when we met in Grand Central Station, NY (she worked there) on February 28th, became Engaged March 28, and Married April 28th  Fifty Six Years ago!!! With about 12 of my ship- mates in attendance, and one of them  sang at our Marriage Ceremony in the church!!