SEA STORIES
Sea story from Donald C Joslin
I was kind of an "old salt" by the time I was assigned to the USS Lewis.
I was a Soundman 2nd Class.
I had been doing North Atlantic Convoy duty and also the Invasion of Sicily. While the squadron was tied up in Gibralter awaiting the invasion date, three other sailers and I climbed the Rock of Gibralter. At 20 years of age all things are possible. We had seen on a Port Card that there were monkeys up there.Isn't youth wonderful. We got all the way to the top; only radar equipment was above us. We could see Africa, Spain, The Atlantic Ocean and Mediterranean Sea from up there. When I looked down and saw our ships as they were toys in a bathtub, I said "Let us get down from here right now." During the invasion, we took a bomb and lost 18 men in the engine room and fire room. We were towed to Malta to a little shipyard. After six weeks, we returned to Brooklyn shipyard where we were given 30 days leave. The USS Lewis was just being commissioned and I was assigned to her. I am 80 and just as well as can be. Donald C Joslin
The following was submitted by Richard Suddreth
I served aboard the Lewis 57' & 58' as a BT. On the '57-'58 Wespac cruise we pulled quite a few months in & out of Guam. I was 19 at the time. We would go out for about 10 days patrolling islands--back in for about 2 days to replinish. Sometimes there would be a "donkey" boiler on the dock that we would hook up to for dock steam. Once, they put this little boiler right on the steel tracks that the huge overhead crane would use to go back & forth along the dock. Here I was on boiler watch with everything going ok for about 2 hours when this dock worker (a Guam person) started climbing up to the crane. I hollered at him to not move that crane my way as this boiler was connected to the ship. He waved as if he understood. He fired up and began moving the other way but suddenly reversed. I'm running toward him to stop and he's once again waving back at me as if it's ok! Once I realized he spoke no english, I ran back to the boiler, cut the burners, closed all valves, manually lifted the relief valves, shouted to all hands on deck to get inside the ship. That crane is bearing down. I was so afraid that someone would get hit with the live steam. I shouted my final expletive/deleteds at that little Guamite and ran like h---.I heard a crash..looked around and the boiler was being pushed right along the dock. Water, fuel, and steam lines were parting all over the place. Finally.....the crane reversed course once again and traveled to the other end of the dock. The little man climbed down and simply walked away as if nothing happened! By now, other off-duty BT's had come out laughing their butts off at me as if this is a normal occurance and why am I so terrified? We simply reconnected the boiler at it's new position, fired back up and went on with business. I doubt if anything was even logged by the OD! Nothing was ever mentioned again about this near tragedy......I was glad to leave Guam heading for Japan and cooler weather!
Richard Suddreth
Grand Junction, CO.
My name is Dave Ackerman and I was a Radioman and original "Plank holder"
when the Lewis was commissioned in Boston oh those many years ago! Although I am only a kid of 78; I sometimes have a problem remembering names and faces! So, do you remember a swabie named Willie Lett who was as round as
he was tall. On the day of that typhoon, June 5, 1945 in Okinawa, all hands were
reporting to general quarters stations I believe. There was a lot of noise and
caterwallowing
on the starboard passageway. The ship was tossing around like a cork in a
whirlpool. It seems that in his rush to get where he was going Willie
accidentally
pulled the co2 tab on his life belt and the thing inflated in that narrow
passageway.
Due his roundness when the belt inflated it expanded to the point where
Willie was
so tightly wedged between both bulkheads that he actually could not move
in any
direction! From the rear, of the line of men in the starboard passageway
came the
furiously swearing voice of the "Pride of Brooklyn" OUR DESPICABLE LITTLE
bOSUN'S
MATE NAMED yACULU who proceded to literally climb over shoulders of the
men trapped behind poor Willie swearing to kill whoever was holding up the
line.Someone
shouted to Willie Lett to "look out" Willie, he's got a knife in his hand.
Willie began to cry and in his deep southern accent begging Yacooloo not
to kill him
Undaunted and still swearing at the top of his Brooklyn accent, Yacooloo
proceeded
to plunge the knife into Willies Life Belt . Both Willie and the life
beltcollapsed at the
same time. Thus freeing the pressing crowd behind him who proceeded to run
over poor Willie as the beat a hasty path to their individual stations.
Willie was the last one to reach his duty station that day.
The following stories were submitted by Walter Starks, son of Donald Starks, a signalman stationed aboard the Lewis during the early 50s.
There was a guy in the radio room who could do Morse code really fast. I
know that he could send and receive Morse code about 60 words per minute.
The problem was that he could only type about 35 wpm. He typed messages on
an old manual typewriter and he just couldn't go very fast.
Actually those old typewriters were not old at the time but they were slower
than he could talk using Morse code. Dad said his buddy in the radio room
would just listen to the code and type without even know what was being
said. That was about all he had time for. I think Dad told me that
sometimes when the Captain needed an answer really fast, he would actually go to the radio room and the operator would translate the message verbally as it came in by Morse code, rather than type it.
The three people in this story were probably Donald Starks (my dad), LesterSimpson and BL Smith (Smitty). Donald Starks was a signalman from the
Signal Bridge. One of the two others was his buddy from the radio room.
One day, three of us went into a bar together (It seems like he said it was
somewhere overseas). All three of us knew and understood Morse code because
we used it every day aboard ship. While we were sitting there at a table in
a bar (or restaurant), two or three girls came up to join us and sat down.
They started talking. What they really wanted was for us to buy them a
drink. None of us really wanted to buy these girls a drink. Furthermore,
these girls were coyote ugly (not exactly his words).
What I didn't notice was that my buddy from the radio room was signaling me
with Morse code by taping his finger on the table. He was staring at me and
sending "R ... R ... R..." which was a signal in the USN for "get ready to
receive" a message. After I realized what he was doing I sent the normal
response, which was a "K" meaning, "I am ready to receive" your message.
The message I received was "LETS BLOW". Simultaneously all three of us got
up, leaving the girls with nothing but a blank stare.
I will start this section off with a story about Thanksgiving dinner.
It was 1954 or 1955 aboard the Lewis, but my
memory is somewhat fuzzy about the exact year.
We were on our way home from six months in WESPAC. and were sitting in Pearl Harbor. We were due to get
underway on Thanksgiving day for San Diego. A group of senior petty officers had went to the Supply Officer and
requested that we have Thanksgiving dinner a day early while we were still in port. Being a typical hard head, he
wouldn't even discuss the idea.
Early Thanksgiving morning we cleared the channel at Pearl harbor and headed East with a heavy ground swell and moderate winds. By 1100 hours, we were in one of the strongest storms I had ever experienced that was not a typhoon. I had the 0800-1200 watch and the inclinometer was showing 35 to 40 degree rolls with blue water over the bow with every swell.
I was one of the last crew members to eat, and the sight I saw as I descended the ladder into the mess hall is as vivid today as it was forty five years ago.
On the deck of the mess hall was a layer of food approximately one inch deep. As the ship rolled from side to side, the layer of food was like a tidal wave moving in one direction then reversing as the ship rolled the opposite way. It was a mixture of everything served plus ample fluids to thin it enough to flow easily. It had all began when a tray slipped from a crew members hand, slid off the table into the path of another crew member carrying a tray. It was a chain reaction from there.
No preparation in the world could have prepared me for ths shock I experienced as I stepped on the deck of the mess hall. It was the slickest surface that I had ever attempted to walk on. I somehow managed to get my food without falling. I crossed the mess hall by waiting until it was downhill in the direction I wanted to go, then letting go with both hands and surfing to where I wanted to go. With my tray in my left hand, I grabbed a table with my right hand and sat. I ate by holding the tray and table with the same hand. On one of the heavier rolls, my coffee cup jumped out of my tray and joined the tidal wave. I did manage to eat part of the meal, but had more food in my hair, on my hands and arms, all over my clothes and shoes, than in my stomach.
Just another story about the "Good Old Days"
More Sea Stories
During the time we operated inside Wonson Harbor in 1952, we often came under shore fire. Usually a command came from the bridge to "Make Smoke"
which would allow us to operate without being seen from the shore batteries. The smoke generator was an A shaped device with a cap on each side that sat on the fantail. The aft damage control team had the responsibility to remove the caps. On this day, a young engineer had just removed the first cap when a shell exploded about 50 to 100 yards off the fantail. He ran for cover to where the rest of the team was situated. The Ensign who was in charge of the team looked at the team members and said "I need someone to volunteer to remove the other cap."
He was greeted with 5 blank stares. His reply was "OK I'll do it myself." He got about half way between mount 52 and the smoke generator when the mount swung aft and let a round go. I am not sure whether he ducked because of the sound or whether the concussion knocked him down,but anyway he immediately returned without removing the cap saying "It's OK we can operate with only one cap off."
During 54 or 55, Meekins, forward engine room and myself, after engine room, were on liberty in Sasebo. If you did not know Meekins, he was one of the best sailers I had ever known when he was sober, but after a few drinks, he became somewhat unpredictable. The Lewis was tied to a bouy about a mile out in the harbor. We caught the last whaleboat of the night. About half way back, Meekins looked at me and said "Lets go back and get another drink." I laughed and said"what are you going to do, swim back?" He looked at me and over the side he went. As he began swimming towards the beach, the whale boat circled and picked him up. Apparantly the cool water sobered him enough that he said nothing else and went back to the ship, went to bed as if nothing had happened.
Another mystery of the early 50s was "How did George Small break his arm?"
The after engine room crew often partied together. One one particular night In Sasebo, George was getting a little more rowdy than usual, so we took him aside and ask him if he would go back to the ship if we bought him a bottle of Acadama(port wine). George was more than happy at the offer. We bought his wine, put him in a rickshaw, told the driver to take him back to fleet landing, and waved bye to him.
The following morning, George was not in his bunk. We later found out he was in the hospital with a broken arm. To this day no one knows for sure how George broke his arm.
One more incident from the early 50s. I regret that I have forgotten the name of the individual that I write about, but remember the incident well.
There was a bar where most of the merchant seamen went on the edge of the Naval base at Apra Harbor, Guam. Few sailers went there because the bar was off limits due to the abundance of fights that took place there. Myself and the other individual decided to visit the bar one night.
As luck would have it, we hadn't even ordered a beer when the Shore Patrol came through the door. There were 7 or 8 sailers rounded up and standing outside the bar. We were about 10 feet from a sugar cane field with a dry ditch in between. My partner said "lets run for the sugar cane, they will never catch us in the dark." I said no, but he went anyway. When his foot hit the middle of the dry ditch, he disappeared. The ditch was 5 feet of water with vegitation growing on the surface that made it look dry in the dark. As he climbed out of the water, his white uniform was somewhat soiled. The Shore Patrol got such a laugh from the incident that they let all of us go without charges.
The following was submitted by Richard Middleton Jr. Lewis crew 1944-45.
HUMOR FROM THE AIR FORCE
I was discharged from the Navy in 56 and enlisted in the Air Force. When I checked into my first duty station, I overheard the First Sgt.(the top NCO in the group) telling everyone that there was to be a GI Party that night. I thought that because I was new in the orginization, surely he would invite me to the party. I kept standing close to him where he could not fail to see me, but to no avail. There was to be no invitation that day. I was really shocked a few days later when I learned that a GI Party in the Air Force is the equivilent to Field Day in the Navy.
There is an acronym used in the Air Force for those who have orders back to the states. It means that the individual is going to do a little work as possible until he leaves. It is FIGMO.
There was a sweet, naive, really nice young lady married to a young Airman. She had heard him use the acronym, and not knowing what it really meant set about to tell everyone she met thet they were FIGMO.
This went on for at least 2 or 3 weeks before they left.
To this day, I sincerlly hope that she never learned what she was saying.
FIGMO is an acronym for "F**k it, I've got my orders".
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