History of the USS Bryant (DD-665)

Transcription

1 History of the USS Bryant (DD-665) by Dr. Jackson Lee Allgood, Jr., MD Edited by Larry Mitchell Colonel USMC (Ret.) Published by the USS Bryant Association 1

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3 History of the USS Bryant (DD - 665) USS BRYANT (DD-665) Introduction Up to this time (August 18, 1944), I have not kept a diary, although it was suggested to me by Elizabeth and others in the family. It is against Naval Regulations to keep diaries, and there are several reasons for this fact. The primary one is, I believe, that such would be of value to the enemy should it fall into its hands. If one should have to abandon ship, the average person would take his diary with his other personal effects if the opportunity arose. That is about the only way such a document could become available to the enemy. I do not consider this a diary. It is rather a recording of many things that have happened to me since I joined the Navy. In addition to telling about these things, I expect to include my ideas on a few subjects. I do not think anything I write, or could write, would be of much value to the enemy. Compared with the hundreds of documents aboard this ship, and the many mechanical devices, this writing is as unimportant as the average letter. Nor would I ever take this over the side with me. It is not that valuable to me. It could well be written five years from now. My reasons for writing at this time are two: (1) many day-to-day happenings are fresh in my mind, and (2) I have quite a lot of spare time at the present for doing just this. Augusta, Georgia On Sunday afternoon, December 7, 1941, I was lounging in the home of the Arnolds on Wrightsboro Road, August, where I was living during my last year in medical school. My roommates were Clyde Collins, son of a North Georgia Methodist minister whom my father knows well, Clifford C. Chappell, Jr., of Cordele, and Duncan B. McRae of McRae, Georgia. Dunc was reading and listening to a musical program. There was a station break, and the excited voice of an announcer Washington, D.C.: The President has announced that Japanese planes have attacked the American Fleet at Pearl Harbor. The excitement, and the results of that dastardly event, are history and common knowledge. My future, as a soon-to-be M.D., was fairly definitely cut out for me from that moment. It gradually developed for all medical students that our immediate future would be either the Army or the Navy. I still had about two months to decide where I would intern. Clyde, Cliff, Dunc, and I spent hours discussing all possibilities. Three of us decided to apply for Navy internships. Clyde did not feel that he could do so because of his poor vision. We agreed that many topflight civilian doctors were in Naval Reserve, and that we could get excellent training in any one of many new Naval Hospitals, perhaps better personal training than could be had in civilian hospitals during the strain and overload of war. The three of us went to Charleston, S.C., for three days, and each of us succeeded in passing the rather thorough physical and professional examinations which the Navy required. Shortly following graduation our orders arrived. Duncan was to report to Brooklyn Naval Hospital, and Cliff and I to the U.S. Naval Hospital, Jacksonville, Florida. (After his internship, Duncan went to the Marine Corps and was stationed on a Pacific Island most of the time.) Jacksonville Cliff and I reported together to the hospital in Jacksonville on July 13, We were in civilian clothes and had each been sworn in as Lieutenant (JG) s two days before. The day we arrived we bought uniforms, donned them, and put away our civvies for the (Continued on page 4) 3

4 (Continued from page 3) duration. The commanding officer of the hospital was Captain L.L. Pratt, a fine looking man of sixty and a thorough gentleman, a good doctor, too, I was told. Because his job was administrative, I never observed his medical abilities in practice. There were six of us interns Judge Fuller, Tennessee; M.J. Rogers, Texas; Barney Blumberg, Louisiana; and Fred Burdette of S.C., were the other four. Fuller has since been killed when his ship rammed another ship at night in the Atlantic. As it turned out, we were a congenial group, and in short order we assumed our place of questionable importance on the staff. The first six months we lived in the BOQ (Bachelor Officers Quarters) which was within walking distance of the hospital, nurses home, and the officers club. Since the base was about ten miles from town, it followed that most of our time would be spent at one of those places. Burdette and Blumberg married within a few months of our meeting, each marrying a girl from back home. Fuller had been married several years and had a little girl. Cliff fell in love with a Navy nurse, Mary Woituck, of Illinois, and they were married in November. It was natural, then, that Roge and I should spend much time together, and we ultimately rented an apartment in town and lived together there our last five months. Our work was fairly hard, interesting, and the hours were good. We were on duty from eight to five daily and until noon on Sunday. About one night in four or five we were on duty at the hospital as medical officer of the day. We did all the dirty work. As Blumberg once said, A JG in the medical corps is one below whom the buck cannot be passed. We had heard early that the formula for success in the Navy was shoot the bull, pass the buck, and make three copies of everything. This proved to be more or less true in a minor sort of way. There were about 30 medical officers on the staff. The interns examined and wrote up all new patients which averaged about five or ten daily per man. This was a never ending drudgery, the paperwork of the Navy, and one never catches up. Each of us had from sixty to a hundred patients at a time. The ward medical officer, in most cases a lieutenant commander, was the boss, but he usually let the interns do most of the treatment. The doctors over us were reserves from Miami, Jacksonville, Atlanta, and other cities. Many of them were excellent specialists. Each of us spent a number of months on surgery, medicine, eye, ear, nose, and throat, and the other services, so that each was under the older men at one time or another. They were wonderful fellows, and we became good friends of most of them. They were very helpful in teaching, and they let us do a lot ourselves. Each of us did eight or ten appendectomies and numerous minor operations. On medicine we followed all treatments carefully and were allowed to order x-rays and laboratory work as we wished. This was good training. The older men spent quite a lot of time writing medical surveys, which are medicolegal documents by which men are discharged from the service for disability. They were rather clever in getting us to learn how to write these surveys because we need to know in the future and soon we were writing them, too. My most interesting, probably because it was the busiest, time in Jax was the two and a half months I lived at St. Vincents Hospital doing obstetrics and gynecology. At one time I didn t leave the hospital for nearly three weeks, but most of the time Roge was working with me, and we alternated nights off. My good friend Commander Richards (Continued on page 5) 4

5 (Continued from page 4) of Jax was our boss. He made ward rounds with me each morning to check what I was doing and to see the patients. Frequently he operated in the mornings, and Roge or I or both assisted him. While there, Roge and I each delivered over 50 babies, treated hundreds of women and children for everything from measles to cancer, and as usual did all the paperwork. But we enjoyed it thoroughly. Nothing unusual happened during the year except that I had pneumonia in October and was in the hospital two weeks, after which I went to Elberton on ten days leave. Jacksonville was fun. Roge and I had quite a time with the nurses there. There were 90-odd girls at the hospital at all times, and we would take them dancing, to the beach on Sunday afternoons, or swimming in the officers club pool. We made lots of friends there and I ve wished many a time that I were back there once more. Within a few days, around August 1, 1943, Cliff, Roge and I got orders. Roge went to New York to be medical officer of a large fleet repair ship. He was in the Italian invasion and saw action before any of us. I was not to see him until nearly a year later in Pearl Harbor. Cliff went to Norfolk to a soft shore job inspecting the medical departments of new destroyer escorts that were joining the fleet. My orders took me to Gulf Sea Frontier, Key West, Florida. Key West I arrived there at midnight, August 4 th, on the bus from Miami. I spent the night in the LaConcha Hotel (as all new arrivals do) and reported the next morning to the Commanding Officer of Convoy Control, Craig Dock. I found that I was to be the only medical officer there, and that I was to look after the dock personnel (about 150 men), 50 sub-chasers (110-foot boats with a crew of around 15), and the merchant seamen and Naval gun crews of the merchant convoys that passed through. In addition, I was medical officer of the Seven Seas, a converted schooner which was anchored several miles out and was used as a signal ship. This sounds like a big job, but there were times when I had very little to do. The convoys came through irregularly. Sometimes there were only two or three ships in, at others there were 30 or 40. These ships would signal that they wanted a doctor, or would fly the flag William, which meant the same thing, and I would go out to them in a small, fast 30-foot boat. This was all new and strange to me, and I enjoyed it immensely at first. I was on ships of all nations British, French, Dutch, Scandinavian, Greek, Cuban, and many others. I treated colds, venereal diseases, injuries, and anything that came along. I transferred the more acutely ill to the new Naval Hospital ashore. I often had to send them drugs, which I obtained from a dispensary ashore, and sometimes I brought men ashore for x-rays or to see the dentist. The only unpleasant thing about this duty was that I was on call 24 hours a day. Consequently, I had to make calls occasionally at night. Aside from the unpleasantness of night work, it was often hazardous to put to sea in a small boat in the black dark. Several times we had to turn back because we couldn t find a ship, or because of bad weather. During this time I lived in a small BOQ. We had fine quarters and the best food I ve seen in the Navy. Life in Key West was simple. We played cards, went to movies at night, and on Saturday we often went to the officers club to dance. A few officers had their wives with them, and there were a few nurses, waves, and civilian girls in town. We went out with girls very rarely, though, because there were always about 20 men to every woman. This condition prevails in the Navy in advanced bases the ratio in Honolulu was 200 to 1, and further west women were practically extinct. (Continued on page 6) 5

6 (Continued from page 5) We had a number of bicycles, and I rode nearly everywhere I went. At lunch I sometimes rode over to a swimming pool and had lunch there (the large pool at N.O.B.). Fishing is a great diversion around the Keys. Too, I went crayfishing a few times, and it is a lot of fun. We often got enough crayfish, or Florida lobsters as they are called, to serve a meal at the BOQ, and I became quite fond of them. Key West was interesting, and my duties there were unusual for a medical officer. The outstanding fault with the town was the climate. The temperature reached a hundred daily, and I had a heat rash the entire time I was there. There was very little to do about it, and nearly everyone had a rash. I found that a sun-tan was the best cure. After nearly three months of continuous duty, I finally got a weekend off and went to Miami with a friend. On my return I found that my orders had arrived and that I was heading for sea. My next place of duty was to be Charleston, S.C. Joining the Bryant Charleston and Bermuda When I arrived in Charleston November 15, I found that the Bryant was not yet commissioned and that she was scheduled to be commissioned on December 4 th, I met the Captain, Commander Paul Laverne High of the Academy class of 27, and about five of our officers. We had an office in the Navy Yard near the ship, and the office joined with the office of the USS Albert W. Grant, our sister ship. I found a room in a private home in town and moved in. It would be several weeks before the ship would be completed enough to move into the quarters. The other officers lived in private homes, and we all reported to the office each morning. There was nothing for me to do for weeks. My supplies and equipment were stored in a warehouse. Most of the crew and two of my pharmacist s mates were in Norfolk. One of my boys, Paul Binkerd, PHM 1/C, from Iowa was on hand. I learned that in addition to his general qualifications he is a dental technician. I was glad to know this for I could leave the treatment of toothaches, gums, etc., to him until dental care was available. During these few weeks I learned the officers well as they reported for duty. Too, I learned to know the Grant s officers. We all went to the club on base for lunch, the only place to eat. The food was lousy and expensive, but the companionship and conversation were good. The progress of the Bryant and the Grant was a never-ending topic of conversation. Our chief engineer, Lieutenant Phil Hughes of Mississippi, had procured a pick-up truck, and this was our sole means of transportation. Each night we loaded and went to town to our various homes. We all met at the downtown officers club for dinner each night. Here we could get a very good meal for a dollar. Charleston was so crowded that one could hardly eat elsewhere, and the food, service, and prices in most restaurants were terrible. This historic city had little interest for me, although I had hoped to be there when the gardens were in bloom. The old homes and buildings were so decrepit, particularly to have to live in, that their historic significance was lost in the discomfort and hustle of an overcrowded city in wartime. The home I lived in was nearly 200 years old, next door to one of the oldest Baptist churches in America, and a few blocks from the slave market, but I took little note of all this. By December 4 th the entire crew and officers had arrived, and at 3:00 p.m. we had our commissioning exercises, the admiral turned the ship over to the skipper, and the first watch was set. We moved aboard that day (Continued on page 7) 6

7 (Continued from page 6) and the next. That night we had a huge commissioning party with about 200 guests. For the next six weeks we worked hard getting the ship completed. My other pharmacist s mates were J.C. Veylupek of Nebraska and Bob Persun of Williamsport, Pennsylvania, both excellent men. Persun, like many reserve PHMs, was an undertaker in civilian life, and there were naturally many jokes to the effect that no one wanted him working on him! We spent weeks loading supplies, compounding drugs, checking inventories and equipment. We had to have all the crew take numerous arm shots, and the paperwork was USS Bryant (DD-665) Specifications A Fletcher Class destroyer Displacement: 2,050 tons (2,924 tons full load). Length: Beam: Draught: Machinery: enormous. The sick bay on a 2100-ton can is topside and just about amidships. It is only about seven by ten feet but is the largest sick bay ever built on a destroyer. There are many shelves for drugs, books, instruments and the like, and it is an amazingly compact and well equipped place. I am reminded of the wave ensign who came aboard one of these ships and on seeing sick bay said, Oh, look! A drugstore! The Grant was completed first and left for Bermuda on January 1 st. We left Charleston on January 31 st, and after a rough trip, arrived in Bermuda two days later. The next month, known as the shake-down of a ship, was rugged. We were at sea most of the time drilling and practicing constantly. For 85 percent of the crew this was the first sea duty. We had battle drills, firing practice, torpedo runs, and antisubmarine training. We had lectures and movies for all hands on every phase of ship life. We came into port every Saturday afternoon, and the officers and crew got liberty. Bermuda is a lovely spot and is very 376 feet 5 inches 39 feet 7 inches 17 feet 9 inches Four Babcock & Wilcox boilers: 2-shaft G.E.C. geared turbines. Performance: 60,000 shp for 35 knots. Bunkerage: 492 tons Range: 6,500 nautical miles at 15 knots. Guns: Five 5/38s; five twin mount 40mm; six 20mm Torpedoes: Complement: Ten 21 inch quiet, clean, and entirely different from anything in the U.S. I went all over the countryside by train, jeep, and carriage. While there I went to several dances and met quite a few British and Portuguese girls, very different from U.S. girls, and something of a novelty. We returned to Charleston, and on March 4 th I went to Elberton for three days, taking my roommate, Lieutenant R.L. Gilbert 329 officers and men of Scottsbluff, Nebraska, with me. Gilbert had had 18 months destroyer duty in the Pacific in the early days of the war. I knew at that time that our next port would be Boston, but I was not allowed to say anything about it. We were in Boston for only two days, and I saw very little there. I was busy most of the time, and soon learned that days in port were always busy ones. Panama Canal We found the new huge carrier Wasp there, and learned that we were to escort her through the canal. One other destroyer was to go with us, the McNair. The trip to the canal was uneventful. Much to our amazement, the sea was glassy calm the entire time, very unusual for the Atlantic. We arrived off Panama at 4:00 p.m. (Continued on page 8) 7

8 (Continued from page 7) in the afternoon about March 20 th. Everyone who could get on deck was out for a look. Directly ahead was what appeared to be gigantic concrete steps. This was the first set of locks. I believe there were three sets of locks in all, and it took us several hours to go through. Most of the way we were in fresh water lakes. Parts of the canal were very narrow, and it was difficult to understand how our large carriers could get through. The project is so vast that I hardly see how it was ever completed with the methods and equipment of even 30 years ago. We arrived at Balboa around 9:00 p.m., and several of us went ashore for a look around. I saw practically nothing of the town, but enough to know that it was hot and sultry, and that I didn t care much for the native population. The streets and buildings were dirty, and there were a lot of cafes and bars filled with dirty, loud people. I understand that Cristobal and some of the other cities are cleaner and more modern. The next day we shoved off for San Diego, taking two army officers and several other men as passengers for the trip. They had been in that area around 20 months and could think and talk of nothing but home. We were in San Diego two days and nights. It is another large and overcrowded Navy town, but was cleaner and more beautiful than most busy ports. It greatly resembled Florida cities such as Jacksonville and Orlando. While there I called a Navy nurse whom my friend Rogers had gone with in Jacksonville, and she was able and delighted to come aboard for dinner that night. I showed her over the ship the guns, torpedoes, and everything. All of our stairs are called ladders, and most of them are very steep with a small handrail. We go down them as you do stairs and usually in a fast walk or even a trot. She said that on her first visit to a ship she had backed down a ladder, much to everyone s amusement. I went to the Naval hospital there for supplies. It is one of the largest, and has over 5,000 beds. Pearl Harbor We set sail for Pearl Harbor and points west the latter part of March. We had as passengers three ensign pilots (fly-flies). They were nice, eager kids about 20 years old and thrilled to be aboard a destroyer. (I saw one of them six months later in Manus.) They were going to carrier duty and to plenty of action. The trip to Pearl was uneventful. We were still escorting the Wasp. My first view of the islands was of a blue haze of a mountain which shaped to from the famous Diamond Head on the outskirts of Honolulu. As we approached, we were greeted with a squadron of 20-odd planes, which dived and zoomed around us in mock battle. It was a bit terrifying for it was impossible for our guns to bear on many of them at once. I hoped at the time that the Japs were not as good flyers as our boys. Again, all hands not on watch were topside to see our entrance. As we entered, I was standing on the forecastle with my friend Ensign Chester T. Shablowski of New Jersey, who had been a first class gunner s mate on the Tennessee on the famous December 7 th. He was amazed at the improvements about. Huge buildings and barracks were in all directions. Ford Island is now a big airfield with hundreds of planes all over. On all sides one could see the hulls and masts of half-sunk ships, grim evidence still of the devastation suffered by our fleet that day. Shablo, as we call him, was in new whites that morning (Sunday the 7 th ), all ready to go ashore on liberty. His first thought when he saw the Jap planes coming in was, This is a heck of a time to have a drill! His second thought as he realized that he was under enemy attack was that he would get his whites dirty. Get them dirty he did he didn t get (Continued on page 9) 8

9 (Continued from page 8) out of them for 48 hours. His was one of the first guns to open fire, and his gun crew shot down a Jap plane. The Tennessee, as he described it, was moored between two other battleships, one of which was sunk and the other badly hit and burning. The Tennessee took a 3,000-pound bomb near a magazine, but the bomb was a dud. As we entered the harbor, we were fronted with scores of ships, a thrilling sight to me and one I was to view many times. On one occasion in Pearl I counted 55 destroyers, 9 carriers, 6 battleships, 14 cruisers, and scores of uncountable transports, smaller ships, subs, and others I couldn t see. And this was only a part of the fleet! We were in Pearl most of April and part of May, about six weeks in all. The ship went out a few times for several days of shore bombardment and anti-aircraft gunnery. We saw the Grant for two days, but she shoved off for the Hollandia invasion, which we missed. There were many hush-hush rumors about something big coming off, which everyone was careful not to discuss. I remember one day Gilbert received a lot of secret mail with which our room was always overflowing. As he opened it up, I saw his face get red, and he ran off to the safe to lock it up. With fervor he said, Geez, Doctor, don t ask me anything. Don t even talk to me. I know so much that if I even open my mouth I ll probably get courtmartialed. I later learned that he was referring to Saipan which, at that time, was nearly a month away. Pearl was very crowded, and there was little to do when one went ashore. I often went to Waikiki Beach, which is very pretty and is much like our Florida beaches. Several times I went over to Ford Island (by ferry) to see Lieutenant Jack Bermingham, whom I had known in Jax. He took me flying in his SBD (dive-bomber) a couple of times. Once we flew over Diamond Head and Doris Cromwell s home. Honolulu is very beautiful from the air. While there I saw several doctors I had known in Jax and Key West, and I saw several people I had known in college six years before. A destroyer transport tied up alongside one day, and the doctor was a former intern in Jax whom I had known for a few months. Roge s ship, a net-carrying transport, showed up before I left, and Roge came aboard for a few hours. I was glad to see him. Pearl is called the crossroads of the Pacific for everyone goes through there at one time or another. We left Pearl the latter part of May and set sail for Eniwetok. This was to be a staging area for the next invasion. It was a bit rough on the way down, but we soon got accustomed to the sea again. On arrival the usual sight of hundreds of ships almost blotted out the small atolls. While there, we got new provisions, movies, and there was much planning and talk of the coming battle. We left Eniwetok around June 10 th for Saipan. Saipan and Tinian Saipan, Tinian, and Rota were to be the center of our activities for days to come. We were not in the bombardment group, and thus were stationed five or more miles out as a screening ship on the look-out for subs and planes. I could see very little of the invasion. On June 17th we were in a terrific air raid. The planes were too high for us to damage, but all ships put up a terrific barrage. During the weeks at Saipan, I saw five or six planes shot down. Most of our work there was dull. We bombarded the Japs a few times in support of our Marines ashore, and sometimes we illuminated the front lines with star shells at night. One day at Saipan was rather full for us. it was about June 22 nd. Around 3:00 in the afternoon we got word to stand by for a crash. I hurried out on deck and saw a TBF (torpedo (Continued on page 10) 9

10 The Greater Marianas 1944 (Continued from page 9) bomber) circling us. She crashed about a hundred yards off our starboard bow. Her crew of three inflated their lifeboat, and we picked them up unhurt. The plane sank quickly. The pilot had been unable to lower her wing flaps, and thus could not reduce speed sufficiently for a carrier landing. Within a few minutes of this happening we got a sub contact. We circled the area for about an hour and dropped several patterns of depth charges. We eventually lost the contact and left the area, never knowing whether there was a sub below. We then proceeded to the carrier to transfer the pilot and crew and to fuel. Just as we got alongside, we got a flash red and found ourselves in another air raid about 30 planes. We drew away from the big ship and set up an AA barrage. Four or five planes were shot down by the ships present. The only damage to our group was one minor hit on a carrier. Since it was almost dark, we kept our guests aboard overnight, transferring them the next day. While in the Saipan area, I got ashore only once. There were still Jap snipers on the island, so I couldn t go far, and I only had 30 minutes there. There was little to see. There was evidence of American destruction of trees and buildings, and our construction battalions were hard at work building roads and barracks. [N.B. - Because of snipers, all men going ashore were ordered to be armed the only time Jack, as a doctor, wore a gun.] The Bryant was never in great danger during this invasion. One or two ships struck mines. On one occasion during the invasion of Tinian around July 5 th we went in close to relieve a destroyer which had been damaged by shore batteries, but, as far as I know, we were not fired on. On the whole the Saipan invasion was long and dull as far as we were concerned. It was much tougher for the men on the beach. Eniwetok, Second Time After 70-odd days at sea, it was thrilling to see the land of even Eniwetok. We were among the last ships to leave Saipan, consequently as we arrived one could see ships in every direction. While we were at Eniwetok there were about 300 ships there, of all sizes from the small sub-chasers to the huge carriers. What a sight! A city of ships with a population as great as many an American metropolis. The wardroom radio was tuned to Radio Station Eniwetok On the road to Tokyo, and the musical and news programs were excellent. Word quickly flew through (Continued on page 11) 10

11 (Continued from page 10) the ship that the captain had had 20-odd cases of beer put in the icebox. There would be liberty such as it was for all hands. Most had not left the ship since May, and this was August 4 th. We went alongside the tender Piedmont, along with four other cans. This group is called a destroyer nest. The Grant, with my friend Dr. Mathieu, was anchored about three miles from us near the large island where the air strip is located. We were about a mile from Runnit Island, which is only a mile long and a few hundred yards wide. I made dental appointments for 20-odd men on the tender. They had two dentists who were sadly overworked; one filling per man was the rule unless his teeth were exceptionally bad. Clemons, our supply officer, hurried to a provision ship and obtained fresh stores and meat our cupboard was nearly bare. I obtained drinking glasses for the wardroom (We had 15 left out of dozens we had had in the states). I was amused at the lieutenant commander in supply from whom I obtained the glasses. He just couldn t understand why we broke them, because they never did on his ship. I had to restrain myself to keep from telling him how we sometimes ate with our chairs lashed together with fiddle-boards on the table to hold the dishes in place, and with metal poles in place between the deck and overhead for braces for the chairs. I wanted to tell him too of the tremendous jarring of the ship when we fired five-inch salvos, with lights breaking and dishes flying, and pandemonium in general. the Piedmont was a new tender, and she hadn t much experience with destroyers as yet. She was built, incidentally, in Tampa and is the largest ship ever built in Florida. The first liberty section went ashore the next afternoon, about 90 men and four officers. What a surprise we had as we pulled into the pier at the beach. There were literally thousands of sailors in the palm trees, Eniwetok drinking beer, playing ball, swimming, climbing trees, eating coconuts, and having fun in general. We lined the men up to see that each got his allotment of beer. There were also plenty of canned peanuts to go around. One section of the area was set off as officers country. There was a good beach and several tables and log benches. There were hundreds of officers swimming, playing ball, looking for shells, etc. One was constantly meeting old friends from the states, and it was always fun to go to the beach. We stayed at Eniwetok about ten days, and counting our next stop, we were actually underway only about a week of August. We got a few letters from home while there, but found that most of our first-class mail and all our second-class had been sent to Saipan. Would we ever get it!? The food was better, the recreation simple but at least recreation, and we all went to work to straighten out the ship. We fueled, took on ammunition and did painting, which (Continued on page 12) 11

12 (Continued from page 11) has to be done almost continuously at sea. While at Eniwetok a tragedy occurred when one of our men was fatally injured by the screws of a small boat while attempting to push her off the beach. Two doctors from the tender and I worked for hours suturing his many lacerations. He had about six five-inch lacerations, and the chest cavity was penetrated in two places. He received plasma, transfusions, oxygen, and all the therapy of modern medicine to no avail. Autopsy showed a huge laceration of the liver from which he would have died even had we known of it. We had funeral services on the fantail of the ship, with a Catholic chaplain officiating. He was buried on the island. Such accidents are inevitable with so many men working around dangerous equipment. I am no longer surprised at our frequent casualties, such as smashed heads and hands, falls from ladders and decks, and the like. At night we are completely blacked out topside, yet hatches and doors must be opened and closed, ladders climbed, and the functions of the ship carried out as in daytime. Imagine, for example, the call to General Quarters at midnight, with 300 men running to battle stations and manning them in about three minutes in the black dark. The possibilities for accidents are unlimited. At Eniwetok we had movies on deck each night, and often had two. The ships get new movies flown from the states and exchange with each other daily. It was not unusual for us to sit in the rain to watch what else to do? We learned here that our squadron (56) was to operate as a unit for the first time. Our squad commander was Captain Libbey, who is one of the best destroyer men in the fleet, and is an authority on shore bombardment, etc. This explains why squad dog 56 had some of the assignments we later got, and why we did very little convoying and safe jobs as many cans have to do. Up till this time, our ships had not been together. Our squadron, like others, is made of two divisions, DESDIV 111 of 5 ships, and ourselves in DESDIV 112 of 4 ships. We are told that we are to be with a cruiser and battleship outfit as a striking force and shore bombardment group. We expect to bombard the beaches on the next operation, and at the same time be on call to repel hit and run attacks from fast enemy surface units. We don t know just what it will be, but it sounds exciting. Purvis Bay, Florida Islands About the third week in August we proceeded to Purvis Bay, escorting cruisers and a small carrier. The cruisers were the Honolulu, Cleveland and, I believe, the Denver. I think the carrier was the Callander Bay. On the way down, we practiced torpedo runs and other maneuvers. One day we had planes towing sleeves for gunnery practice. The cruisers fired on the first few runs, and later the destroyers, or little boys, fired. The Bryant officers and crew were exuberant after the practice. We shot down three out of four sleeves that day with fiveinch guns. The distance was one to two miles, the speed of the sleeve around 200 knots. If you consider the speed of our own ship, our rolling and pitching, you realize the mathematical problems involved. We fired only 38 rounds that day, and we were sure we shot down more than any other ship. If we keep that up, we should get a plane or two on the next operation. The day we crossed the equator the entire morning was devoted to the initiation. We had only 20-odd shellbacks aboard and around 300 pollywogs to be initiated. The crew got quite a kick out of the officer pollywogs. We had to man a bow watch and keep a sharp lookout as we approached the line. We were dressed in blue coat with tie but no shirt, underwear shorts but no trousers, (Continued on page 13) 12

13 (Continued from page 12) white cap cover with black tie around it trailing in the wind, shoes of different color and khaki leggings. In addition, we carried a hose nozzle for a spyglass and had to search the horizon at different intervals looking for the line. Following this, we donned rough clothes and went through the rest of the initiation consisting of fanny-paddling, hair cutting, and the like. Many of the crew shaved their heads, and all the officers had their hair cut very short. We are a funny sight! We arrived at Purvis Bay about 36 hours later, everyone possible being topside for a look. Guadalcanal in sight about 20 miles away, Tulagi on our left, and Purvis dead ahead. What thoughts enter our minds: The slot iron bottom bay the Tokyo Express. Some of our men were here a year and a half ago when a destroyer stopped only long enough for fuel and ammunition. In sight were the waters where the Vincennes, Astoria, Quincy, and Canberra were sunk. The Atlanta was lost here, and scores of American and Jap ships fought it out for this island outpost. We anchored in Purvis Bay alongside the Grant and Leary. There are many large ships here, too. The list of ships around would fill several pages. Again it is the old story of repairs and procurement of supplies. We spent a week or more in the Purvis area and procured many provisions and new equipment of various types. There was, as usual, very little to do. There was a very good officers club, and we could go ashore in the afternoons for beer and cokes, to hear an orchestra, and to meet friends from other ships in the bay. There were a lot of black natives in Purvis, and they would paddle around to the ships in their dug-out canoes. They had mostly shells to trade for flour and personal articles, but they had very little worthwhile to offer. The natives are rather civilized, and most speak English. British missionaries have been in these islands for years. On the subject of souvenirs, I have made very little effort to get them. We are so crowded aboard ship that there is no place for such things, and I don t think I shall be able to carry much with me when I am transferred. I would like to get a few things to mail home, but so far I have seen nothing worth having. The natives are very poor, and the things they have and make are hardly worthwhile. On the whole I was rather bored and anxious to start the next operation. We are interested to see what our next invasion, Palau, will be like. There is an airfield there, and the island is known to be a Jap stronghold. We do not expect it to be as difficult as Saipan, except that we will be within range of dozens of airfields on Mindanao and Lozon. No one knows whether the Jap fleet will come out and fight, but it is generally considered unlikely. Palau (Peleliu) We left the Tulagi area on September 6 th for the five or six day journey to Palau. We had all known for weeks that this was our next objective. As a part of Task Force 35, we are an impressive sight with a force of 50-odd ships in formation, ships of every fighting class. The journey to Palau was uneventful. We arrived on D-4 (D day was set for September 15 th ) and made plans for the coming engagement. The ship was thoroughly prepared in all respects. My own preparations were slight for we have kept our battle dressing stations adequately equipped at all times. At 11:30 p.m. on D-4 the ship went to General Quarters, for we were in the battle area some 30 miles from Palau. At the least it would be three or four days of heat, dirt, and irregular eating and sleeping. The first night we were at condition one easy, which means that all hands were at battle stations with about 75% of personnel asleep on deck at their (Continued on page 14) 13

14 (Continued from page 13) stations. Most of the officers not actively busy did not choose to go below to sleep, although we could have done so. It was very hot in the sleeping quarters for the ventilation system is always secured (or cut off) at GQ. The prospect of sleeping in a watertight, air-tight compartment is not a pleasant one. Though there are three escape hatches and doors from this compartment, we all know that a nearby hit by bomb, mine, or torpedo often springs doors so that they cannot be opened. Consequently, most of us stay topside at GQ. That first night was uneventful. I talked in the wardroom for hours and attempted sleeping in a chair, but the heat and discomfort would not allow it. Finally, I went up to the flying bridge and got a few hours sleep on deck. There were a couple of enemy planes flying around within 15 miles of us most of the night, but they didn t come very close. At dawn, we moved into position to screen battleships and cruisers from sub attack while they shelled the beaches. We secured from GQ for two hours and ate breakfast and got an hour s sleep. At 10:30 we went back to GQ, and with the other cans and big ships, began shelling the beach. We went about 2,000 yards from shore and opened up with 40 mm machine guns as well as five inch. Our planes were all over the island, diving low to strafe and drop bombs. We could hear their guns plainly and could watch their bombs leave the planes and hit the island. Several oil fires were started by them and the ship gunfire. There was very little sign of life ashore. Several boats containing our underwater demolition teams (UDTs) headed for the beach. These daredevils are from fast transports converted from old four-stack destroyers. They go into the beach and blow up underwater boat obstacles, barbed wire, and even coral reefs if the water is obstructed by them. They then mark lanes with buoys so the invasion barges have a clear path to land. These boys are all volunteers and are expert swimmers, as much of their work is done while swimming with heavy loads and often under fire from the beach. We secured from GQ in the early afternoon and retired to sea to rest before the next day s work. On the morning of D-2, we went to GQ at 5:00 a.m. and stayed until around noon. We fired intermittently at the shore all morning and were in quite close. During the morning a fast landing barge containing 20 marines drew alongside the ship. An officer came aboard to confer with the captain regarding our shore firing. This officer and his men were part of a UDT group and were going in to blast the reefs and boat obstacles a few yards from the enemy under cover. While they were alongside, we gave the marines two dozen oranges and a gallon and a half of ice cream. Needless to say, they were delighted with the gifts, particularly with the ice cream. The afternoon was quiet, and we didn t go to battle stations again until 10:30 p.m., Peleliu (Continued on page 15) 14

15 (Continued from page 14) and that for only 15 minutes. Nothing happened. During the night we learned that a destroyer had rammed a smaller ship and that 50 men on the small ship had been killed. During that day, too, one of our minesweeps hit a mine and sank shortly after. Most of the crew were saved. On D-1 we didn t go to quarters again until 1:00 p.m., but then we fired all afternoon. We were in close and were again supporting UDTs. We could see occasional flashes of fire from small areas which the enemy were firing at our men, and we fired continuously in those areas to keep the enemy under cover as much as possible. During the afternoon I watched one of our air attacks on the island. What a sight! I could see our dive bombers streak down and could watch their bombs leave the plane and hit the ground, and I could hear the clatter of their machine guns distinctly. We have had no air opposition, and have lost only one plane to antiaircraft fire. We expect air raids after our landing forces arrive, but the Japs are unpredictable in that respect. At sunrise on D day, September 15 th, the ship took position about two to three thousand yards from shore. We and other destroyers of our squadron plus a few of the larger ships opened up with a terrific barrage. I had never seen anything like it. The whole island was covered with smoke and at times could not be seen. As I watched through the glasses, I could see tracers of shells falling all over the island. How could anyone live under such fire? I believe H hour the hour of landing was set for 8:30. Our hundreds of small landing barges were drawing close to shore, supported by LCIs (landing craft, infantry). At 8:15 the LCIs let go their hundreds of rockets so that every yard of the landing area was blasted with high explosives. Meanwhile our planes were bombing and strafing. Promptly at 8:30 all firing ceased. The first wave of marines hit the beach. Within 30 minutes, the Bryant was in radio communication with an observation post ashore, and we began receiving directions as to what areas to cover with shell fire this is called call-fire. We fired throughout the day at the areas that the marines wanted hit. During the day numerous shell splashes landed close to the ship, but we received no hits. The Japs reserved most of their fire for the landing craft. If they should open on us, we could see their gun flashes and wipe out their guns with counter-battery fire. Our firing was extremely accurate, and I believe we could almost put a shell in a barrel at that range. I saw only one of our planes shot down today. The Bryant hit a few enemy tanks during the day, and also shelled some enemy planes we could see on their air strip. A mountain almost as large as Kinnesaw (later called Bloody-Nose Ridge ) was shelled until it was devoid of its dense trees and looked as if it had been burned. Yet our troops found stiff opposition. I later learned that the enemy had a maze of caves and trenches throughout the hills, and it ultimately took months to drive them out. The next day, D plus 1, was the same. We found at dawn that the Japs had set up gun positions on the bare mountain and were firing rapid fire at our troops and landing craft. I could see their gun flashes distinctly. We opened with rapid five-inch fire on them and wiped them out with high explosives and the deadly white phosphorous in a few minutes. One of the admirals on the Mississippi radioed the Bryant a well-done. At the end of the day we were low on ammunition and fuel, since we hadn t fueled for nearly a week. We had only enough ammo left for one good air raid, which we expected almost any time. On D plus 3 we fueled and loaded ammunition and thus felt more secure. Still no air raids; we can hardly believe it! All of us expected continuous air raids for days, (Continued on page 16) 15

16 (Continued from page 15) and we were almost a little disappointed. The next day we learned that the Bryant, another destroyer, and the cruiser Denver were going up to bomb Ulithi. Undoubtedly this would be a minor affair. Ulithi is a beautiful atoll of about ten small islands, only one being large enough for an airfield. They are in a circle with a deep lagoon in between. The day after our slight bombardment, the UDT s went in to explore one of the beaches. Finding no opposition, they toured the island and learned from the friendly natives that the Jap garrison had fled. When the dozen ships of the assault force arrived, the islands were in our hands without the loss of a man. The next day we departed for Kossol Passage in the northern Palau group. We stayed at Kossol overnight and left with several other ships for Manus Island. Manus Island Manus was to be our staging area or resting place for the next operation. We had no idea whether we would be there for a few days or weeks. After a voyage of several days, we arrived at Manus and were surprised to see a huge display of electric lights stretching for miles, more light than we had seen in many a day. We found hundreds of ships there; in fact, there were about 500 ships at Manus while we were there. I was told that there was an equal number at Hollandia further south. I had dreaded Manus, for it is situated only a few degrees south of the equator, and usually when we anchor in such places it is suffocatingly hot. On the contrary, there was a fine breeze continuously for our two weeks there, and it rained quite a lot, which tended to make it rather pleasant. The Bryant anchored six miles out in this huge harbor. This meant that it was almost an hour s ride by whaleboat or gig to the beach. We have a saying in the Navy to cover such a situation Lots of liberty but no boats, for the boat problem in such cases is terrific. At Manus the usual routine followed. Supplies and dental appointments for me, and I was able to get chest x-rays for several men who had had influenza. I found one with T.B. and transferred him to a hospital ashore. As usual, there was very little to do. I much prefer being at sea than in one of these advanced ports. At sea all are busy and time goes quickly. In port, I have ten complainers in sickbay for every one at sea, and one gets awfully tired of the belly-aching. A certain percentage, though small, is constantly looking for an excuse to get transferred to shore duty. I have to crack down on these men and keep them off the sick list, so they have to stand their watches. As a result, some of them think me rather hardhearted. It s sort of a joke that the only way to get off the Bryant is to break a leg. It s the same problem on all ships at sea, and really isn t a very difficult one. At Manus I learned that our next operation was to be Leyte, Philippines. Look on the map at Leyte. As one of our highranking admirals expressed it, it is easy to see that no Navy man selected this point of invasion. This is MacArthur s baby, and it s up to us to get him there. The bay where we are to land troops, bombard, etc., is almost completely land-locked. It is shallow enough throughout for mines of every description. Surrounding us for hundreds of miles are hundreds of islands which may serve as bases for Jap torpedo boats. Because of the surrounding land, our radar cannot pick up approaching enemy planes until they are almost on top of us, and we are within range of dozens, almost hundreds, of airfields. Those are the problems. We of Task Force 77 call ourselves MacArthur s fleet, and refer to our Navy planes as MacArthur s carrier-based fighters. On our side is the fact that we have so much of everything that we can afford to lose many ships and men, and we still will win. Our fast task forces have shot up the (Continued on page 17) 16

17 (Continued from page 16) Japs ships, shot down their planes, and bombarded many enemy bases and airfields. It remains to be seen how much opposition we will receive. Those of us with a bit of imagination are naturally apprehensive. Before leaving Manus on October 12 th, we loaded with the maximum of ammunition, fuel, and food (it proved to be two months before we got dry provisions again). We received more fresh food than we had ever had since Charleston tomatoes, lettuce, celery, cabbage, fruit, and tons of spuds. We had 700 pounds of turkey alone. We had so much food that we couldn t store it all below decks. As my Harvard friend Tom Bridge said, The ship is now loaded beyond the point beyond which we positively must not load. We were heavy and low in the water, but happy to have it all. Leyte, Philippine Islands The journey to Leyte was uneventful except that the day before arrival, September 16 th, we encountered a terrific storm. It would be considered a mild storm as typhoons are judges in this area, but it was storm enough for us. All of us felt bad with headaches, loss of appetite, and indigestion, and many were downright sick. We felt sorry for the boys in the smaller ships and all envied the huge battlewagons and cruisers which ride such storms with ease. The minesweeps swept Leyte Gulf prior to our entering on October 18 th. The water was then glassy calm. As I mentioned, the Gulf is huge and in places can hardly be seen across. we had been told previously that we were to enter the Gulf, mines or no mines. During the first night the USS Ross, one of the four ships in my division, hit two mines. At this writing, several days later, she has not yet sunk, and she will probably be towed back to a large base. Ships in forward areas that cannot be towed are beached and salvaged. When you consider that even a destroyer has priceless equipment aboard and is worth about ten million dollars, you understand why salvage is important out here. Prior to our entry to the Gulf, we received a dispatch stating that a Jap Task Force consisting of 6 battleships, 12 cruisers, and 20 destroyers was west of Mindanao and on a course which would bring it through either Surigao or San Bernado Straits, flanking our landing forces. (When I mention numbers, it is not always accurate, as such messages are often conflicting, and sometimes it takes months to be sure of the facts.) This same message from CINCPAC (Nimitz) urged TF38 to hasten south to protect us. How we did want the air cover from her 30 or 40 carriers! Our force consisted of about six old battleships and an equal number of cruisers, so that we were hardly a match for the Jap force, nor did we want our plans for invasion interrupted. After several hours of anxious waiting, we learned that TF38 was on its way to our aid and further, that the enemy force had reversed course and was retiring. Up to this time, TF38 had been occupied with a daring and brilliant raid on Formosa, which resulted in the destruction of over 500 enemy planes and many ships, with the loss of only 45 of our planes. We listened frequently to the broadcasts from Tokyo which twisted the victory around for their propaganda purposes. We got lots of laughs from their claims. They claimed to have sunk 17 of our carriers and a ridiculous number of our new battleships and cruisers. Halsey, in a message of congratulations to the combined fleets, stated: The carriers and other ships reported sunk by the Japanese have been salvaged and are retiring toward the enemy. After entering Leyte Gulf, we took our station several miles from the island, and began our two-day bombardment. We were at GQ most of this time with the usual minor discomforts. At dawn of October 20 th (Dog Day), we looked out at a sea of ships which can (Continued on page 18) 17

18 (Continued from page 17) hardly be described. There was difficulty maneuvering because there were so many. The landing forces had arrived. The first wave was to land at 10:00 in the morning. Such a bombardment beforehand! The small gunboats were in 500 yards from the beach. We were about 2,000 yards out. The water was covered with landing craft loaded with men, tanks, and supplies. Precisely at 10:00 a.m. one of the cruisers fired eight star shells into the air, which was a sign to all that the first troops had landed. We were in, as I said, very close, and with glasses I could plainly see the men on the beach. Without glasses I could see water spouts all around the small craft, which meant that the Japs were firing cannon and mortars. We were firing broadside after broadside throughout this time. Soon a mortar found our range, and time after time we were straddled with near-misses off the bow and stern. We all felt that sooner or later we would be hit. One of our men received a minor shrapnel wound of the leg. The Bennion, one of our squadron stationed ahead of us, received a hit and one Battle of Leyte Gulf 24 October 1944 officer and several men were wounded. We retired to a safer distance about noon. That day and the next we had sporadic air raids at dawn and dusk. The Leary, another ship of Squadron 56, was strafed and had a few wounded. The cruiser Honolulu took an aerial torpedo in a magazine and suffered tremendous casualties. It was thought that she would have to be beached, but she was somehow saved. At 9:00 a.m. on October 21 st, MacArthur, from the cruiser Nashville, broadcast his I have returned message to the world. I believe this was around 8:00 p.m. on October 20 th in the States. I come now to what I earnestly hope is the climax of this narrative. You will understand this better if you have a map of the Philippines nearby. The next two days were uneventful. We had a couple of minor air raids each day. Then, the night of the 22 nd and morning of the 23 rd, things began to happen. I was up from 12:00 to 4:00 that night, and decoded about ten urgent messages. From various sources (subs, planes, and Philippine intelligence), it was known that we could expect heavy daylight air raids in the Leyte area. Prior to this time, the raids had been light and at dawn or at dusk. We went to GQ at 5:30 a.m. on the 24 th, as usual about 40 minutes before sunrise. Within a few minutes we received the usual designation of flash red, and from our own radar and communication with other ships we knew that large bogies, or formations of enemy planes, were approaching. Many of the transports and freighters had unloaded and left the Gulf, but there were still over 200 ships at anchor. Our air cover of carrier-based fighters from 50 miles east was overhead ready to intercept the enemy. In the next hour and a half our planes shot down over 40 Japs, and the combined AA from the ships got about six more. During the (Continued on page 19) 18

19 (Continued from page 18) day we were at battle stations three more times for air raids, each one lasting over an hour, and many planes were shot down. Four of our ships were damaged and two small ones sank. During the melee one of our transports was getting underway and rammed the Tennessee. We learned that the damage to the Tennessee was negligible, which was fortunate we needed our wonderful old battlewagons later! I mentioned melee in an air raid all the destroyers are going round and round, in and out, among the anchored transports and large fighting ships, belching black smoke from our stacks and spewing forth white smoke from smoke pots on our fantails. This smoke screen covers the area and is very effective in hiding our ships from planes overhead. We were at GQ for our last air raid of the 24 th at 6:00 p.m. This raid lasted until 7:30. The day had been hard, and no one got rest, and practically no food. About this time the urgent radio messages again began popping. The Battle of Surigao Strait A Jap task force believed to consist of two battleships, eight cruisers, and six destroyers had been observed 100 miles to the west on a course that would bring them into Surigao Strait and into Leyte Gulf. When we got this information, we remained at battle stations. Soon we learned that another Jap force was northeast of Samar (heading south) and still a third was northeast of Luzon heading south. It would be up to T.F. 38 to intercept the last two groups. It was soon apparent that the heavy air raids and the Jap TFs were making every effort to trap our forces in Leyte Gulf and make another iron-bottom bay. This would, of course, be disastrous for our troops ashore and for the whole Philippine campaign. The most terrific sea battles of the war were brewing and were destined to determine definitely our status here. Our Leyte Gulf striking force (under Rear Admiral Jesse B. Oldendorf) was organized. We formed a formation of six old battleships, eight cruisers, and 20 destroyers including squadron 56 and the Bryant, less the Ross. Our plan was to patrol the Surigao entrance to Leyte Gulf and to oppose the enemy should she arrive. We sent some 30 fast torpedo boats (PTs) into the strait to form the first attack and to warn us when the enemy was near. Many of us did not think the Japs could close, for although they had faster, more modern battleships, they were out-numbered. We believe now that they thought their air raids had been more effective in neutralizing our fighting ships than was the actual case. The skipper predicted at 7:30 that if they came in, we would meet them at 3:00 a.m., which proved correct. The Battle of Surigao Strait would be a night battle. For the next few hours we sat and waited. In the wardroom we drank coffee, played records, and mostly discussed the possibilities of battle. Coffee and sandwiches were served to all hands at stations throughout the night. Every man aboard was more frightened than at any time in his life. One or two 14 or 16 hits would sink the mighty Bryant as if she were a rowboat, and we all knew that in such an action destroyers (both ours and the enemy s) would probably deliver a torpedo attack. Our engines were throbbing and vibrating for we were going in at 30 knots plus. Nine destroyers were going in together (we on the left flank), and our objective was the big boys. When the Bryant was about 12,000 yards from the enemy, our heavy ships opened fire. The Japs were firing star shells as they approached, and several exploded off our starboard bow. We were sure they had illuminated us brightly. Huge caliber shells were splashing all around us, but most of them were short of our heavy ships. The battle was the most brilliant and spectacular event imaginable. Our big ships (Continued on page 20) 19

20 (Continued from page 19) were firing so fast that their salvos of red shells looked like machine gun fire. There were dozens and hundreds of big caliber shells in the air at once, making an arc trajectory to land on the enemy. We closed to 7,000 yards of the Jap battleships if observed, they could sink us in a moment at point blank range. With a pop and a swoosh, five of our fish hit the water, and with relief we heard the words torpedoes away ring throughout the ship. We made a tight turn left and reversed course at full speed, smoke pouring from our stacks to cover our retreat. The next five or ten minutes seemed hours, and we expected to be hit at any moment. Huge explosions were occurring in the enemy s direction as the fish and shells found their mark. As our range increased, we felt more safe and relaxed. While the firing was going on, we heard that our sister ship, the Grant, had been hit. We had no report of the amount of damage. In less than an hour it was all over. It would soon be daylight. We learned that the Grant was hit badly and was dead in the water with many casualties. USS Bryant Area Depicte d Hibuson From the Official After Action Report filed by USS Bryant, 25 October 1944 (Part II) At 0310 USS WEST VIRGINIA reported contact on two enemy targets bearing 166ºT., 42,000 yards. At 0335, CTG 77.2 ordered CDS 56 to attack with torpedoes. Section 2 composed of USS ROBINSON, HALFORD and BRYANT in column in that order, was ordered by COS 56 to attack from sector 090º to 045º closing to range of intermediate speed torpedoes and using individual target plan. This section, in column, commenced approach to position on starboard bow of enemy formation. At 0339 this ship picked up enemy on Sugar George radar, bearing 187ºT., 29,000 yards. Target appeared on the radar screen as a single large pip and the operator could make no estimate of the number of targets. Tracking was commenced at this time. A high speed approach was made, working up to 32 knots at Various courses were steamed following movements of guide. At 0340 Gun Control was coached on target at range of 23,000 yards, this time two additional targets were detected astern of the leading target which was selected for our point of aim. By 0348 an enemy course of 349ºT. speed 16 knots had been determined by computer selection. At 0351 track indicated that target had changed course to the right to course 030ºT. Track from 0352 to 0354 gave indication that target had come further right to course 056ºT., plot occurred [sic] in this. At 0354 there were five targets on the screen appearing to be disposed in two columns, the second column being 2,000 yards southeast of the landing ship. The order Stand by to fire torpedoes came from CDD 112 at 0345 at which time it appeared that target was continuing to the right and had increased speed to 18 knots. Torpedo Control was therefore given target speed 18, target course 058ºT. for the final firing set-up. Japanese Contact Sketch from Official Report At 0355 CDD 112 ordered torpedoes to be fired. Torpedo Control was ordered to fire one half salvo of torpedoes. At the same time another plot was obtained indicating that the target had not turned (Continued on page 21) 20

21 (Continued from page 20) right as had been deduced from previous plots. This information however, was obtained too late for use by Torpedo Control. Torpedoes were fired, range to target was 8,800 yards, bearing 222ºT., own ship s course 172ºT. Own ship s speed 32 knots. Torpedoes were fired on the following set-up: Target course 058ºT. Target speed 18 knots Torpedo course 212ºT. Torpedo speed 34 knots Torpedo spread 1º Torpedo depth 6 feet Latitude correction 0º Tube effect 0º Intercept effect 1º left Gyro angle 312º Target angle 342º Track angle 330º At 0355 on orders to make maximum speed and to make smoke, started making chemical and stack smoke. Just after this, at 0356½, an order, Emergency 000 turn, watch out for the beach! came from CDD 112. Tracking of this target was discontinued while the Sugar George radar was used for ranges on Hibuson Island close aboard to port. The range to the island at that time was 1400 yards. Retirement occurred [sic] was altered to 330ºT. to clear Hibuson Island. At 0359 the Sugar George was again shifted to the target and the plot obtained indicated that the target had changed course to the left instead of to the right as had been calculated in arriving at the final set-up. By this maneuver the leading enemy ship probably avoiding the torpedoes fired by this vessel. It is possible that either enemy vessels astern which were probably maneuvering radically, were enclosed in the spread. (Continued from page 20) At dawn we headed toward the Jap area. The ships that could had retired, and there were many burning ships on the horizon. We came to a heavy oil slick, and the sea was covered with floating debris and Jap sailors. We stopped to pick up survivors. Our deck was lined with officers and men with rifles, pistols, and tommy guns. We tried our best to coax some Japs aboard, but they would not come. A few ships managed to get one or two prisoners. Our plan was to pursue the fleeing ships, but we made an emergency turn and headed east to the other end of Leyte Gulf. The southern Jap force was shelling our undefended small, slow carriers on our right flank some 75 miles east of us. There were 12 of them, and each had only one five-inch gun sitting ducks for the fast enemy ships. All we know of them now is that several of them were damaged along with several of their destroyers. It has developed that two of these carriers were sunk and several damaged. The destroyers with them made a gallant daylight torpedo attack on our ships and two of our destroyers and one destroyer escort were sunk. At the same time, the carrier planes attacked the Japs, and the combined effort managed to save most of our carriers. The Grant, we have learned, received from 15 to 20 direct hits by six and eight inch shells. It is a miracle that she is afloat. I understand that she sustained over 100 killed and wounded. For the past two days we have been escorting the small carriers east of Leyte, and there has been little of interest happening. After that, I had an opportunity to go over to the Grant with the captain. As we approached in our boat, we could see much evidence of damage. There were shell holes and patches all over, and she was listing badly. The executive officer met us as we climbed over the side and conducted us to their wardroom. Their skipper was unhurt. I learned that their doctor, Mathieu, whom I knew so well, had been killed. One of their two pharmacist's mates had been killed, and they had been in a terrible way with so many wounded. My friend Ensign Tom Ham of Atlanta was unhurt. (Continued on page 22) 21

22 (Continued from page 21) The old Grant was a sad sight. It had been nip and tuck for hours as to whether she would stay afloat. She had received over 20 hits. She is now on the way to the States for repairs. The Battle of Surigao Strait has been proclaimed an outstanding American victory, and the radio reports we get from home sound good. Who would have believed that the old battlewagons, the second team, would ever meet and defeat fast new Jap forces! The West Virginia was in there pitching. It is rather definite that she sank a battleship with her brilliant, accurate fire. She had been sunk at Pearl, and now her revenge was sweet. Had our battleship fire not been so accurate, many of our destroyers and cruisers would have been destroyed. It is now known that our capital ships in this force were dangerously low in armor-piercing ammunition. They were loaded with shore bombardment stuff that would be ineffective against battleships. They were never expected to engage the Jap fleet. Each wagon and cruiser had less than 15 rounds of A.P. [armor piercing] per gun, average. They had to make each shell count, and count they did. The score: two battleships, four cruisers, and six destroyers sunk. The credit goes to the combined force. We had only the Grant badly damaged. Those figures are not complete, but at any rate it was one of the greatest naval victories of all time. Leyte Gulf Continued The next event that stands out in my memory was the day of November 2 nd. Because our small carriers had been damaged as mentioned, we had practically no air cover in Leyte Gulf. We had a few planes on Tacloban airfield on the island, but they were constantly under air attack so that field was useless much of the time. TF 38 had not yet arrived, and we were praying that she would hurry on down. On this day, the Bryant was in formation in Leyte Gulf with some 20-odd ships, including three battleships and four cruisers. For 18 hours we were under air attack. The Jap planes, mostly dive bombers, seemed to be aiming for destroyers. In one attack the destroyer ahead and the one astern of the Bryant were hit. One of them appeared to be dangerously low in the water. Another was hit by a bomb in an engine room. A huge fire was started, and, as I watched, one of her magazines exploded. She sank five or ten minutes later, leaving oil burning on the surface for hours. Two other destroyers with us were damaged during these raids. One of them was crashed by a suicide plane, and both her stacks were knocked off. We all put up intense AA fire. The Bryant definitely shot down one, and probably got one or two more planes. In spite of this, the planes continued to do us damage. Now, a few days later, we have our own air cover again, but we still have two or three raids a day. November 2 nd was the beginning of a new, and most terrible method of Jap warfare. The Abner Reed, which was the ship that I saw sunk, was hit by a suicide plane. It seems that the enemy is using this as a new weapon, called a special attack team. Their flyers are told to go out and crash a ship, and they are expected not to return. You may imagine how this makes us feel! The next week and longer were quiet except for a few air raids. We were on picket station at the southern entrance to Leyte Gulf for several days, the area of our previous night battle. The Bryant and another can were stationed there to warn of surprise attacks by planes or surface forces on the Gulf. The Japs have reinforced their troops on the island. They have had several cruisers and cans in Ormoc Bay, only a few hours travel from us, and they brought several troop transports into that area. We have not had sufficient air cover to control this area, but have managed to sink and damage several of their ships with our planes. We don t dare, as yet, send our surface (Continued on page 23) 22

23 (Continued from page 22) vessels into the Ormoc area. The enemy has so many planes protecting their forces that it would be foolish to risk our ships. A ship can adequately protect itself from a handful of planes, but if more attack one ship, it is doomed unless it is exceptionally fortunate. All of us have feared attacks by a large number of planes when we are on an isolated station. Many destroyers have been damaged and sunk in this way. Too, we fear suicide plane attacks as much as anything. Often when a Jap plane is hit and burning, the pilot dives it into the nearest ship, and there is very little you can do to stop this. A burning plane on deck, or crashing into the bridge can cause havoc. We received word yesterday (November 12) that enemy planes crashed into seven of our anchored transports and cargo ships. Because of this danger, we increase speed and zigzag furiously when under attack, and in this way present as difficult a target as possible. One of the destroyers in our group, as I may have mentioned, has had both stacks knocked off by such a plane. A few feet lower, and she would have been damaged severely. As it is, she is functioning well and wll remain with us until we are relieved. We expect to leave for Manus around the 15 th. It will be such a relief to get plenty of rest, see movies, get mail, and to stretch our legs on the beach. Too, you can t blame anyone for wanting to get out of this area. The situation looks good for us, but our men both on the beach and in the Navy have taken a lot. The constant air raids do great damage to our airfields, ships, and supplies, and we just aren t ready yet to gain the air superiority we need. The Japs have made an issue of Leyte, and it will be weeks before the island is ours. Their fleet is still potent though we damage it more each day. We will no doubt move into Luzon soon. It will be the same old story of planes and raids, and possibly surface action. The enemy is a tough and aggressive fighter, and though we will win eventually, it is far from being a bed of roses. We left Leyte on the night of November 17 th, I believe, and cleared the passage after sundown during an air raid. The Bryant shot down one of the planes. At Manus we were alongside the tender Whitney for about a week, and I got my physical examination there for promotion to Lieutenant. I transferred several men to the hospital there, most of them needing hernia operations and the like. We returned to Leyte, arriving about November 29 th. The next few days were uninteresting. We cruised about with several cruisers and destroyers both inside and outside the Gulf. During these days several of our cans were going into Ormoc Bay each night to look for enemy shipping, and they returned to the Leyte area by dawn. The third night one of them, the Cooper, was sunk either by a mine or by torpedoes. About half the personnel were rescued the next morning by our PBYs, which landed in the bay and picked them up. Since our return there have been repeated reports of enemy subs in the Gulf, and we have kept a careful watch for them. Too, we celebrated the first birthday of the ship on December 4 th. The next couple of weeks we were on screening and picket stations most of the time, but occasionally we anchored in the Gulf overnight. There are many flash reds around Leyte, but we have so many planes and ships in the immediate area that it is not much bother. Most of the time we don t even go to battle stations. During this same time it has been very hot in the Ormoc area on the other side of the island. The enemy has air cover there from their bases on nearby Cebu, Negros, Masbate, Panay, and other islands. We have sent many troops and ships and made new landings in the (Continued on page 24) 23

24 (Continued from page 23) Ormoc area. I know of one destroyer that was attacked by 12 planes. She shot down the first three, but three planes crashed into her. She was very lucky and had only six men killed. This is the exception. Usually the planes explode and flaming gasoline burns everything in sight, setting off the magazines. One destroyer crashed by a plane exploded and sank within two minutes. It is a common sight in the Gulf to see 10 or 20 damaged cans anchored near each other, one or maybe two smokestacks missing here, a gun turret blown off there, the bridge burned and wrecked on another, and so on. Many of these ships are operating in spite of their defects for they can t be spared for repairs at this time. On December 15 th U.S. forces occupied Mindoro. This was a bold and strategic move. These forces left Leyte and went south around Negros, then north to Mindoro. There were only a thousand Japs on the island, and by December 21 st the island was ours, an airfield had been built, and Army fighter planes were based there. On the way up, the cruiser Nashville (the command ship) was crashed by a plane; 100 were killed and an equal number wounded. This happened in spite of daylight, American planes overhead, and constant lookout from scores of ships both visually and by radar. There are so many factors involved that one is never absolutely safe. We aboard the Bryant were surprised at not being sent on this mission. It is the first major landing we have missed since June (excluding Guam, when at the time we were at Saipan and Tinian). However, on December 17 th we got the exciting and shocking news that we were leaving for Mindoro the next day. After the troops and supplies were landed there on the 15 th, all ships returned to Leyte, so that there were no friendly fighting ships anywhere around Mindoro. It developed that this first resupply convoy would consist of 20-odd LSTs and liberty ships, and that there would be 11 destroyers as escorts. It is one of the few times that I have seen the skipper really worried. We were to be slow moving freight for the speed of advance was to be eight and a half knots. We had roughly 300 miles to go and expected to be back in Leyte for Christmas Eve. The day before leaving I received mail from home and finally learned that the family had moved from Elberton to Atlanta. I wrote a quick letter (which didn t leave the ship until we returned) stating that I expected to spend a quiet Christmas, but giving no hint of what I expected to do in the six days beforehand. We left the Gulf on the afternoon of the 19 th. That night and the next day, when we were around southern Negros, were uneventful. We had Army air cover much of the trip. We dreaded the day of the 20 th because we would be approaching even nearer the objective. Sure enough, about an hour before sundown we began getting radar contact on several flights of enemy planes approaching 20 or more miles away. We think there were from 30 to 50 in the attacking group. We went immediately to battle stations, and the destroyers closed the transports to offer a smaller target of concentrated ships which would have more effective gunfire than if we were too far apart. During these times, the cans increase speed to 20 or even 30 knots and zigzag continuously all around the other ships. Just a word about my personal occupation at GQ and during raids. My battle station is in the wardroom, which offers a degree of protection from our own AA flak. It is hot and lonely though, but if we are at stations for hours and hours various officers drop in a few at a time for coffee and sandwiches. Often I walk around the ship, talking to different ones at their duty stations. Usually, in a raid I go on deck to watch the (Continued on page 25) 24

25 (Continued from page 24) firing and only return to the wardroom if shells from other ships start bursting overhead, or if it looks as if a plane is making a run on us. Many personnel topside are hit by burning gasoline and fragments when a ship is hit, so that all who can do so are ordered to take cover under those circumstances. But no place on a can is safe; a 50 caliber machine gun bullet will go through any bulkhead in the ship and often through several of them. Within a few minutes of going to GQ, I saw 10 or 12 enemy planes approaching our formation. The Japs at this time were going over the cans and heading for the troops and cargo ships. All of us were firing furiously although at first most of the planes came in on the opposite side of the convoy from me. I saw three or four planes dive down to crash ships, miss, and hit the water, exploding into flames. One plane hit a troop-loaded LST and covered it with flames. Almost immediately another was hit, and then a liberty ship. (All this happened in about a minute and a half.) The three burning ships dropped back along with two destroyers to cover them and pick up survivors. The ammunition on one LST was burning and exploding at short intervals. One hardly realized that dozens and hundreds of troops were being killed. After a few minutes lull, a Jap was seen circling and heading around astern of us. Two other cans were firing as he circled the rear of the formation, and when he came in range, we opened up with everything we had. The plane burst into flames and crashed about 500 yards from us. Then, about a minute later, a big bomber closed us on our starboard beam. We fired and fired and fired, and after what seemed an eternity, he exploded and crashed 500 yards off our bow. We know we got him, for we were the only ones firing at the time. The sun was about down. One LST was burning astern and finally sank. The other LST sank later, but the liberty got her fires out and followed us in. We stayed at GQ until the moon went down sometime after midnight, There were many planes around us dropping flares, and we fired several times by radar although we couldn t see them. The next morning we were at GQ before sunrise. As it grew light, there was little to be seen. Mindoro appeared as any island with ships offshore and a cloud of dust overhead from the airfield and congested roads. The 11 destroyers stood offshore about three to five miles, waiting for the ships to unload so that we could start the trip back. We had formed a large circle and were cruising round and round in column at 15 knots, presenting a defensive circle similar to the old circle of defense in Indian days. Overhead one could see as many as 15 of our P-38s circling high in the sun. Occasionally there was antiaircraft fire on the beach, but, on the whole, it was quiet. About 9:00 a.m. it happened. The captain happened to look up, and he spied a Jap plane (a zero) coming in on our starboard bow rather low and only about 2,000 yards away. He issued three rapid commands: commence firing, all engines ahead flank, and left full rudder. We don t understand till yet how our lookouts and those of the other ships missed seeing this plane minutes earlier. All ships missed him on radar because he came in behind and below a flight of our own planes. It took a few seconds for the guns to bear, and we started firing when he was about 1500 yards away. He banked away for a moment, and then headed straight for the Bryant. We were zigzagging wildly and picking up speed. The guns were blazing away, and in he came. When I realized he was coming in, I jumped for cover, as did everyone in sight. In control the range was coming in over the phone 1,000, 800, 600, 400, 200, 000 in just about the time it takes to read it. He cleared our after torpedo mount by about eight feet, missing the after stack by (Continued on page 26) 25

26 (Continued from page 25) a few feet, then he wheeled right and crashed 50 feet from our port bow and exploded. As one of the men said later, I hit the deck, and when I got up, I was covered with souvenirs! The decks were covered with bits of steel and aluminum. One piece of the tail was nearly two feet long. When I left my hole, he was burning by our wake a short distance astern. Only one man was injured. He was hit in the face and lost three teeth, and received a nasty cut of the hand, which I fixed up without difficulty. The captain flashed a signal to our boss Close but no cigar. He later reported officially that we had one minor casualty and 23 holes in the port bow near the waterline. The largest was only three inches in diameter, so we repaired them without difficulty. We had fired for only two minutes and in that time shot 34 five inch shells and dozens and hundreds of 40 and 20 MM. None of the other ships saw him in time to open fire. We think he may have been hit before he crashed, but we were not sure. The rest of the day and the return trip to Leyte was uneventful. We were at GQ a lot and had a few planes around, but no more excitement. We arrived at anchor around midnight on Christmas Eve, in time for that quiet Christmas I had written that I hoped to spend. We had gone through the most exciting experience since our big battle, and no one cared to repeat. Lingayen Gulf The next few days were leisurely spent, and there was much talk of the next invasion Lingayen Gulf which was scheduled for January 9 th. While in Leyte I went ashore to look around and to buy some khaki clothes from the Army. Tacloban is not a lovely town. If you picture the most rundown town of 2,000 in Georgia during the height of the depression, Tacloban is worse. I went through several stores in search of a souvenir that would be small enough to carry, but there was Comments by Commanding Officer High on suicide attack on the USS Bryant on 22 December The suicide attack attempt on this ship followed the general pattern which has been employed most frequently against destroyers; i.e., a steep dive to low altitude followed by a nearly horizontal approach with the pilot obviously trying to crab around to make his run -in from the quarter. The initial maneuver began with what appeared to be a feint although it could have been a move by the pilot to counter the ship s first evasive effort. 2. The ZEKE was first sighted by the Commanding Officer 30º on the starboard bow, position angle 45º at an altitude of 4,000 feet in level flight paralleling the ship. The ship was at general quarters making 20 knots with four boilers on the line steaming in column with seven other destroyers, distance 1,000 yards, formation describing a rectangle to seaward of the transport area. Ship was approaching the southern end of the seaward leg on course 170º true, the next ahead having already turned left on the eastward leg. 3. Simultaneous to the command of flank speed and directing control on the target, the plane nosed down and executed a half turn to the left. The Commanding Officer, interpreting the move as an attempt by the pilot to run in from ahead, ordered left full rudder. The ship had scarcely commenced to swing when the plane began a complete turn to the right indicating a quartering approach. Rudder was immediately shifted to right full to keep the starboard battery unmasked and present maximum deflection to the approaching plane. By this time all guns were firing to starboard. At no time during the approach were any guns masked until the plane passed over the ship. The plane did not strafe. The pilot kept crabbing to the left trying to work around on my tail but the ship was swinging too rapidly. Five inch bursts were not close but 20 s and 40 s were hitting. It appeared that the plane could not miss. Just before reaching the ship starboard side abreast frame 170 the pilot executed the conventional steep bank and right turn in an apparent effort to plow into No. 2 stack from astern. Having overshot, he crossed diagonally from the starboard quarter, his right wing barely missing 40mm mount No. 45. He apparently still had hopes of turning into the ship s port side, but crashed steeply into the water 50 yards abreast of the bridge. The plane seemed to disappear in the water before it exploded violently, showering the ship s weather deck with dural fragments from the tail assembly. One man on the starboard forward 40mm was struck by a small piece of dural which cut his lip and broke off three upper teeth. No other personnel casualties were sustained although some of the fragments which came aboard could easily have inflicted fatal injuries. (Continued on page 27) 26

27 4. The plane apparently carried some type of fragmentation bomb which threw out fragments with sufficient force to produce ten small holes ranging from 1 to 3 in diameter through the ship s port side into compartments A-301, A-302 and A-303. No other material damage was sustained. Ship s battle efficiency was not impaired. 5. The Commanding Officer s maneuvers were predetermined as a result of his observation of similar attacks on other ships and damage sustained by those hits. In a great majority of those cases it seems that ships hit from ahead or astern suffer most damage to material and personnel. Few, if any, have been hit below the main deck level by single suicide dives. The danger of presenting the broadside to a waterline hit is fully realized but the following factors seem to outweigh this consideration. (a) Broadside presentment gives maximum fire power. (b) Broadside presentment gives maximum deflection, requiring the pilot to manipulate all the controls at his command. (c) Broadside presentment at high speed tends to thwart the apparent effort of most suicidal planes to work in on the tail and makes the pilot s final maneuver more difficult. (d) Broadside presentment offers smaller target area to anything but a perfect waterline or near waterline crash which the Commanding Officer believes is the most difficult aim a pilot could attempt. absolutely nothing to buy. The counters were bare and contained such articles as rusty safety pins and faded stationery. The streets were very muddy, and there is filth everywhere. The buildings have all been taken over as storehouses and offices for the Army. I spent only a couple hours ashore and was glad to get back to the ship. In anticipation of the coming operation, I expected it to be relatively easy. The Army had been pounding the airfield on Luzon and adjacent islands for weeks. TF 38 was to hit Formosa for several days prior to our landings. The Bryant was to be part of TG 77.2 under Vice Admiral Oldendorf. We were under him in the Surigao Strait. we were to have about ten carriers, several battleships and cruisers and scores of destroyers. The fighting forces, preceding the transports, were split into two groups of about 35 ships of equal strength, I think largely for the purposes of communications and tactical movements. Bryant was in the first group proceeding about 30 miles ahead of the second. We left Leyte January 3 rd and were scheduled to arrive off Lingayen on the 6 th for three days bombardment. Our main worry was mines and PT boats. This was thought to be the most heavily mined area in the Philippines. Our first action occurred off Mindoro on January 4 th. Some enemy planes broke through our air cover around 4:00 p.m. and came in fast. We all opened fire, and several crashed in flames in the formation. One came in low over us and crashed near a carrier about 700 yards inside the formation from us. One of the carriers in the force behind us was hit by a suicide plane and a huge explosion followed. Most of her crew were picked up, but she sank that night. The next day we were in a huge raid again. I saw six or eight planes crash. One hit the Louisville and burst into flames. I saw (Continued on page 28) 27

28 (Continued from page 27) another hit the Australian destroyer Arunta, and she was dead in the water for several hours but was finally able to regain her position in the formation. In that afternoon one carrier, two cruisers, one destroyer and a destroyer escort were hit. We began to get jittery. In spite of every precaution, their planes were getting through, and it seemed that all were bent on suicide missions. By the morning of January 6 th there had been a total of 17 fighting ships hit by these planes. An Australian cruiser was hit by three planes in three days, the Louisville was hit by three planes, and many ships were hit by one or two. Our minesweeps swept the Gulf and found only two mines. We entered on the a.m. of January 6 th in the grandest formation ever. There were about ten capital ships in column, flanked on either side by destroyers. The Bryant was only 300 yards from the California, which was the flagship. With glasses, I could plainly see Oldendorf on the bridge. Just as we got into the Gulf, we were in another air raid. I saw three planes dive straight through a terrific barrage. Two of them missed, but one landed squarely on a cruiser. One came in low, and I thought she was coming for us. She turned slightly and crashed into the California just behind her bridge, bursting into flames as they all do. We went on in close to the shore and began our bombardment. On the morning of January 9 th, the Gulf was filled with four or five hundred ships. Only a few planes got in, but several ships were hit during the day. The landings went off successfully at 9:30 a.m., after a very mighty bombardment. We all fired so much that I could hardly see, hear, or think. On January 10 th the bombardment ships left the Gulf. We expect now to cruise around outside the Gulf as the Tingayen Defense Unit for several days. In the past few days there have been about six ships sunk, and over 30 hit by suicide planes. Many of the ships we know so well have been hit the Leary, Newcomb, Robinson, Walke, Sumner to mention a few of the destroyers. As usual, the Bryant has been lucky. We have had two minor casualties from flying missiles one man has two holes in his back, and another a flesh wound of the arm. Both are healing without complications. I must admit that we are all tired and jumpy. We have been at battle stations daily from 6:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m. at night, and we have fired at dozens of planes, expecting at any time for one of them to head into us. I have seen a couple of men crying merely from exhaustion and fear. We left the Lingayen area about January 18 th, and spent the last week or more Lingayen Gulf 1945 (Continued on page 29) 28

29 (Continued from page 28) cruising round and round as a protective force. We stopped off in Leyte overnight for mail, then proceeded on to Ulithi. Ulithi lagoon was filled with hundreds and hundreds of ships, a sight which is rather commonplace out here. You recall that I had seen Ulithi several months before when, with two other ships, we went there to bombard and capture it. We were in Ulithi several weeks, and I had a great deal of paper work to do, reports and such, and annual physical examinations for the officers. I did a little minor surgery I had been postponing, and procured the usual supplies. On January 28, 1945, Commander Paul Laverne High was relieved by Commander G. C. Seay as Commanding Officer of the USS Bryant. Cdr. High was given command of Destroyer Division 104 and transferred his flag to the USS Hickox. Iwo Jima We learned here that we would be in the Iwo Jima operation, scheduled for the middle of February. While in Ulithi, I ran into Dr. Alper, who was one of the interns who replaced me in Jacksonville. He is on an attack transport. We left Ulithi around February 12 th and proceeded to Iwo. Some of the fellows call Iwo Two Jimmy because of the similarity in spelling. Arriving off Iwo, we took part in the mighty shore bombardment which lasted for three days, prior to the landings at 10:00 a.m. on February 17 th. Iwo is, of course, a very small island and appears to be volcanic in origin. It is very rugged looking, and in the hilly sections is covered with rocks, caves, and ravines. The Marines (who seem to be used for the tough jobs) expect to take it in three days, but many of us wondered. The bombardment on D day was terrific. Literally scores of ships fired from dawn to 10:00 a.m. The battleships were out from three to eight miles, cruiser two to four, and destroyers and smaller ships in close. The North Carolina s salvos went over our heads with the roar of a freight train. I spent some time watching our B-29s from Saipan bomb the island, and our carrier planes dive bomb and strafe continuously. Their rockets are an amazing and thrilling sight. There was moderate AA fire from the island. During the morning the Pensacola was hit and badly damaged by shore batteries. She had many casualties and a hit in one of her control rooms. The Bryant was firing frequently up to 10:00 a.m. from a distance of about two miles. After the landings were started, we moved in with about six other cans to less than a mile from the beach very close to the landing area. Our object was to furnish fire in the areas the beach-spotters wanted hit, and we did this all day. At one time we were only 800 yards from the beach. I could plainly see our men, tanks, and lines with the naked eye. It was a terrible sight. I watched scores and hundreds of enemy mortar shells land in our lines, tanks burn, men fall, stretcher-bearers at work, and the whole works. Many mortar shells landed near us during the day and were a constant danger, though most of the mortar fire was directed at the men on the beach. Around 1:00, I got three casualties from a boat nearby. One of them was shot through the head with a rifle bullet; another had a finger shot off, and two others badly fractured; while the third had half a foot blown off. I transferred the first, in excellent condition, to a battleship at sundown. But I kept the latter two aboard for a week before putting them on a hospital ship. This kept me busy most of the afternoon, which was fortunate, for we were all rather nervous, I must admit. We were still (not moving) in the water, and within rifle range of the beach the whole afternoon. During the next week we alternated with other destroyers on shore bombardment and patrolling. We fired thousands of rounds (Continued on page 30) 29

30 (Continued from page 29) and loaded ammo several times. After the Tokyo raids by our carriers, we had very few Jap planes to worry about. Only a few snoopers at night. Two nights we had raids of a few planes and fired on several occasions by radar. Two ships that I know of were hit by bombs or suicides during these raids. On February 20 th I saw a message stating that the Keokuk had 120 killed and many injured. This was the ship my friend Rogers was on, and naturally I was worried. The last I heard he had been aboard about 16 months, so I hoped he had been transferred. Three days later I saw the Keokuk, a large attack cargo ship, about 500 yards from us. I could see several shell holes forward and aft. I sent a message by light. Greetings, Dr. Rogers. Are you all right? The answer came back, Dr. Rogers is dead. This was the worst blow of all, and I had been dreading it for three days. He was one of the best friends I have ever had, and the third medical officer killed whom I have known well. Today, February 27 th, we left the beach Iwo Jima February 1945 area during the morning. We had been firing star shells all night. As we rounded the northern end of the island, about 7,000 yards from shore, we began hearing loud explosions all around. We quickly increased speed to flank and began zig-zagging. We were being fired on by six-inch shore batteries. The next ten minutes seemed hours, and the firing continued until we were 11,000 yards from shore. We were straddled. Shells hit forward, aft, and on either side of us. When it was over, every man aboard was quaking in his boots. We fired a few rounds back, but our object was to get out of range. We re no match for six-inch shore batteries. This is no doubt the battery that hit the Pensacola, and probably the one that hit the Keokuk. But for our speed and maneuverability, they would have blown us out of the water. These abilities are a destroyer s best defense. The Japs keep their big guns hidden in rocks and caves, and only bring them out when there is a lone ship for a target. I neglected mentioning the excitement we had around the 22 nd. We were about four miles from the island and there were a lot of ships within sight. The word came over the loud speaker to stand by for a plane crash. I went out on deck and saw a flier paddling toward us in a rubber boat. His plane made a water landing and sank about a hundred yards from the ship. He was O.K. when he got aboard, and we gave him some dry clothes and a bath. It seems that he had been flying a patrol for five hours and was out of gas. He returned to his carrier, the Saratoga, and found her burning. She had been hit by a suicide Jap plane. He had then picked out a destroyer and landed nearby. (This was his third water landing.) He had looked for another carrier, the Bismark Sea, which was in the area, but he couldn t find her on his limited gas supply. An hour after he got aboard we received word that the Bismark Sea had been hit by enemy planes (Continued on page 31) 30