Connections Unforeseen

“Humble Heroes, How The USS Nashville CL43 Fought WWII” was published almost 5 years ago. Yet, rarely does a week go by when I do not hear from a son, granddaughter or nephew of one of the Nashville crew. On occasion it is because the Humble Hero had recently passed away and the loved one is reaching out for information or giving thanks. At times, it is from someone not connected to the ship or crew and they are kind enough to take the time to write how much they enjoyed the book. But most often is when a loved one first becomes aware that there is a book about the USS Nashville. This happens frequently after the Humble Hero has passed and family is clearing out personal belongings. These cases are particularly moving and rewarding as I have been told it allows people to feel closer in some ways to each other and a father, grandfather or uncle as it may be.

One particular case exemplifies this and provides some insight as to why I feel I have received so much from others. A call came in one day from a woman who’s husband served aboard the Nashville. He had recently passed away and had left a very large family that included many grandchildren, a close family that always spent holidays together. That first Thanksgiving for them was very sad indeed, as you would expect. In fact, it was painful enough that they considered not having a big Christmas that year as they had always done. But this woman’s daughter started searching on the Internet for anything related to the USS Nashville. This is very common in such losses. In her searches, she came across the book. Again, this is common, but what happened next is not. She ordered and received the book and immediately opened it, not to the beginning but to the middle, a random page. On that page was a photograph of several unnamed Nashville crew on liberty in Australia. One of them was her grandfather. Imagine, just imagine how she felt, the loss, still oppressive and raw, and she sees that photo. That is what prompted the call from her widowed mother.

The woman told me that when they discovered the book and that page, they decided to go on with a large family Christmas that year and that each of the grandkids was given a gift of the book so they could know and remember what their grandfather did at one point in his life. The kids read parts of it aloud and shared the discovery at Christmas. The woman told me “Thank you, the book saved Christmas for us and made it very special for our family”.

Life rolls

on but it is important to stop, think and feel those that went before us. An email just a few moments ago, advising me of another Nashviller passing this week, prompted me to do just that and write this entry.

Kamikaze Devastates Nashville 67 Years Ago Today: Survivors Carry On

This excerpt from the book was posted this day last year and I can not think of a reason not to repost today, 67 years to the day that a bomb-laden Kamikaze from Negros Island, Philippines forever altered the lives of the crew. A couple of men have called me today, a significant date in their lives. Many of the survivors still deal with injuries and trama almost 7 decades later. Casualties on a steel warhsip are particularly horrific with the ship itself becoming a dangerous weapon a steel, paint, ammunition and people are literally vaporized. Think for a moment of these brave men and the many others of that era and say thank you in whatever manner you may.

This is a brief excerpt from the book:
At 1457, just as the Nashville was coming about the southern end of Negros Island, steaming towards the Sulu Sea, sharp-eyed lookouts spotted a Val single engine plane at 5,000 feet just over the island off the starboard side of the ship. The crew thought the ship astern was the target and indeed it appeared that way from the dive path of the plane. Crewmembers were thinking, “Oh God, they are going to get it if that plane gets through.” But then in an instant the pilot banked so hard left that his wings were perpendicular to the water, and with that the fate of the Nashville and her crew was forever altered. Men watched in horror and disbelief as they could see bombs fastened on both wings as the plane bore down on them with every intention of killing as many of them as possible. Apparently aiming for the bridge, where nearly thirty officers and men were present, the tip of the right wing caught the end of a 40mm anti-aircraft gun port- side just aft and the plane slammed into the Nashville amidships at 400 miles an hour with an instant and powerful impact. The ship violently bolted and shuddered, the first evidence for the crew below decks that something had gone horribly wrong. The bomb on the right wing exploded ten feet above the port five-inch battery, sending a powerful shockwave and a deadly shrapnel spray across the deck, ripping through steel bulkheads, gun barrels, ammunition, decking, and human beings. The left wing broke loose and its bomb exploded ten feet above the starboard five-inch battery, shooting a violent concussion wave and hundreds of pieces of red-hot jagged shrapnel in all directions. Body parts, specks of flesh, fluids of both man and machine blew through doorways, along bulkheads, against men, and down hallways along much of the length of the ship.
Aviation gasoline spewed forth soaking men, ammunition, guns, and everything else before exploding in a millisecond, sending flames more than seventy feet forward and higher than the ship’s smokestacks. Searing fires erupted from the foremast to the mainmast topside. The blast literally clogged the on deck blow intakes and momentarily knocked out the fires in the fireroom, but men like John. W. Bosier CMM ran topside, cleared the intakes, and relit the fires quickly.
Fires also erupted on the second deck, in the #2 fireroom, uptakes on the third deck, and in the superstructure as high as the signal bridge. The burning aviation fuel then ignited a five-inch ready ammunition box portside causing more deadly explosions. Still, the horror continued as the fifty-caliber machine gun ammunition from the Japanese plane exploded as did some of the ship’s 20mm and 40mm ammunition, creating a deadly blast of bullets and shrapnel flying in all directions.
The scene on deck was nothing short of pure horror surpassing a man’s worst nightmares. The Nashville was a vessel of death and destruction. Men were blown overboard. Men’s bodies were penetrated by jagged searing hot metal fragments, limbs were torn from torsos, torsos from trunks, and some simply disintegrated in the concussion and fire. The ship itself fared no better than the crew. Large five-inch guns were twisted like putty, melted and put out of commission as were 40mm and 20mm guns amidships, the thirty-six-inch searchlights simply ceased to exist, the teak decks were shredded like toothpicks, bulkheads crushed and burnt, paint seared off, gun barrels twisted like straws.
A bomb or shell exploding on a ship kills and maims in multiple, horrible ways. The pressure of the blast itself attacks in a wave that crushes bodies, strips flesh and muscle from bone, and in some cases totally vaporizes human beings. It is not simply metal bomb fragments that also kill but the ship’s own metal pieces blasted into tiny fragments, even liquefied that then pass through a man’s body at hypersonic speed.
The memory of the attack remained seared into the minds of the survivors for the rest of their lives. James D. Baccus was stationed in Turret 1 for general quarters. “We had just come back from the Mess Hall and I was sitting on the deck inside the turret, playing Backgammon, when the ship shook and there was one hell of a noise. I then looked through the scuttle hole in the deck of the turret, where the shell cases are ejected to the ship’s deck, and several sailors were crawling under the overhang for protection. They were bloody, some with legs and arms either gone or badly injured.” Most of the men James saw would not survive.
“So many of my shipmates, some close friends dead and wounded. The wounds were so terrible, especially the burns,” remembered William Smith, Chief Shipfitter.
Hugh D. Patrick and a buddy ran topside as soon as they realized what had happened and they immediately heard frantic pounding on a closed hatch. They opened the hatch and continued forward to see if they could help and then in essence rescued a doomed sailor. It was almost fifty years later that Frank Prentice tracked down Hugh to thank him for saving his life by opening that hatch.
GM3c Alfonso Garcia Vejar had just left his station as he was relieved and went below deck to eat. The man that took his place was killed instantly. Alfonso was alive by sheer chance and fate.
James Clark received a Purple Heart as a result of the attack, “I was stationed in a 40mm gun director with a guy named Johnson when the kamikaze attack occurred, the plane hit directly below us. Our gun crew, which was one level below and closer to the plane, was hit hard. Later, after all the fires were out I was back at my station and witnessed a Marine near the top of the ladder who was so badly wounded his body was just a heap and his clothing was smoldering. I didn’t know how this man could be alive. When a Marine officer approached him he held out his hand and said, ‘help me sir.’ I know that Marine officer has had many nightmares about that incident and I can still see it.”
The blast blew men into bulkheads, across the deck and through doorways. Ed Roiek MM1 was blown clear through two doorways yet managed to survive.
“I was told to switch the shift with one of my shipmates,” said Maury Jack Wood, Ship Cook 1c. “The kamikaze hit the ship where a shipmate took my shift. He was killed and it should have been me. I will never forget this as long as I live. I have shared this information with my family.”
Those that were below decks were lucky and they knew it. John J. Cotton SK2c said, “I am here because I was in a repair party below decks.”
Young Edward “Bulldog” Remler rushed into the overcrowded Sick Bay to help the doctors and medics any way he could. Wounded, dead, and dieing were piling up in the corridor as if they were coming off an assembly line. Horribly mangled men all about, screams of agony, groans, vomiting, blood mixed with body fluids of all sorts pooling up to his ankles, the sound of anti-aircraft guns firing and exploding ammunition decks above him formed a Kaleidoscope memory in his mind, never to fully leave him. Incredibly, there was another memory to return even more forcefully in his future. Bulldog had to hold men down while limbs were amputated, sometimes without full anesthesia. After the first amputation the doctor told him to take the severed leg of a sailor. Bulldog burst out, “What do you want me to do with it?” and was promptly told to toss it into a corner where others were beginning to form a sizeable pile. Nearly fifty years later, at one of the ship’s reunions, he spotted a one-legged man in a wheelchair, someone he had not seen at any prior reunion. It was of course that first sailor he held. They became fast friends and at times traveled together on vacations and to reunions.

America is Losing Her WWII Vets, Nashville Her Crew

Over 16.1 million people served in America’s armed forces during WWII. Today, 2.25 million serve (including reserves), a significant difference. More significant is the percentage of the population serving. During WWII over 12% of the population wore a uniform, today it is less than 1%. A tremendously greater level of national commitment that would require a mind-boggling 37.8 million Americans under arms today.

WWII Veterans suffered 400,000 killed, 671,000 wounded and 35,000 missing in action and there are approximately 2.7 million still alive. We lose between 800-1,200 every day. Every single day. Soon they will be gone, all of them, and we will be without a live source of that part of American history.

Over the past few months I have received calls and letters reminding me of the harsh, personal reality of those numbers, as the Nashville crew continues to pass on. We lost Harrison LeRoy Frost, Jr., John T. “Jack” Baldwin, Jr., Lester Lindsay Morton, Jr., Vincent “Jim” Spiering and just today, "Papa" Joe Venaglia. Each of these men served with great valor and honor. Lester Morton for instance, with total disregard for his own life, entered a burning turret, repeatedly, to pull out 18 severely wounded Marines and cared for them hours afterwards. Such heroism was not uncommon aboard the Nashville. There were hundreds of similar stories, hundreds of acts of bravery and self-sacrifice among the crew. Many of the men even refused medals including the Purple Heart for fear the government letter home would worry and frighten their loved ones. As my uncle Charlie, himself a veteran, once said to me not long before he passed away, “Where do we get such men?!”. Well, I don’t think I can answer that, but I do know we have them, many of them, then and now.

If you know a veteran, or meet one, thank them. Tell them they are not forgotten, that they are respected and appreciated. And ask them to tell you a story you should never forget.

US Navy, 236 Years of Freedom

Today the United States Navy is 236 years old. The greatest, most powerful, most dominant navy in the history of the planet was not always so. It started in a most humble manner on October 13, 1774 when the Continental Congress authorized two armed vessels to search for British munitions ships,. And humble it stayed for some time thereafter as the navy was essentially disbanded after the Revolutionary War. It was not until the Naval Act of 1794 that authorized construction and manning of six frigates to protect American merchant ships from the notorious Barbary Pirates that the navy again had any presence on the high seas. Still, six ships, humble.
Through the 19th century the navy grew but continued to be a regional force at best, until Theodore Roosevelt sent the “Great While Fleet” on a goodwill-show of force tour around the world. The 20th century presented threats and opportunities on an horrific new scale, culminating with WWII. Entering the largest global conflict in history, the US Navy was as undermanned, underarmed and overmatched as the rest of the American military. However, by the end of WWII, the US Navy had made the world’s oceans an American lake and constituted 90% of all the ships on the planet.
Today, the US Navy dwarfs that of any of country’s. It has the worlds largest carrier fleet with the most advanced carriers of any nation. In terms of tonnage, it is larger than the next 13 navies, combined. With over 286 active ships, 3,700 aircraft, 328,000 active and 101,000 reserve personnel, it dominates the high seas even more than the British did in the 1700s. There has never been such a massive disparity between the world’s most powerful navy and any others, allies or enemies.
The USS Nashville of course played an integral part in naval history, starting with being a new ship in a small navy that faced overwhelming odds at the beginning of WWII, to being part of the most powerful navy the world had ever seen at the time. Her heritage, as part of American Naval Heritage, lives on.

A Gathering of Humble Heroes - Day 1

Day 1, April 27, 2010

It had been over two decades since I last made the drive from the Bay Area to Reno or Tahoe, when my parents had lived in Carson City and Reno, NV. That was a shame, because it was grandly beautiful, majestic in an Old West sense. The cold rain was becoming late season snow even as low as Auburn where I had stopped for a quick lunch. The National Weather Service forecast a notable storm and Donner Pass was anticipated to require snow chains by late afternoon. I did not have snow chains. I had absolutely no intention of buying or using snow chains, ever again. So I ate half my lunch and hit the road, expecting to beat the wrath of the storm and the chain requirements by several hours. I had food, water, a knife, extra clothing, a strobe light and other survival gear as a precaution, but forget those snow chains.

As it was, I was less than ten miles from the summit in moderate snow, dangerously heavy winds but light traffic, cruising a clear Interstate Highway 80 when the phone rang, and it was not good news. It was Goldie. Goldie and Don Hill were the heart of the Reunion Association and had planned and hosted the reunions for many, many years. Don had been ill for some time but had just taken a turn for the much worse and much sooner than expected. But Don, a marine if there ever was one, insisted that Goldie attend the event in Reno and she was going to do it, planning to arrive in a couple of days with two dear friends to assist her. Goldie wanted to let me know and asked if I could run the events. Of course I could, and would. But in reality she had done such a thorough job organizing it all that there was little for me to do but but be seen and heard and I certainly was capable of that.

After checking in at Harrah’s I called Stacy, their event person. Young, tall, pretty, smart and yes, blonde, worldly past her years, she was a gem in accomodating our rather fluid needs. The 24” X 36” Humble Heroes book cover poster was suitably displayed in the lobby as well as the hospitality suite for the crew and families.

This was not another USS Nashville Reunion. St. Louis 2009 was the last, finally, even after others had been touted as such. This was different, it was a gathering and became known as a “Gathering of Humble Heroes” in honor of each other and the book. Less structured than a reunion, certainly with less pomp and fanfare, it was a casual meeting of those connected by a shared experiences and interests.

When I saw them, they were gathered around a large round table in the hospitality suite atop the building, awaiting more of each other and the food and drink that would soon become available. And touchingly for me, many had their books with them, asking each other to sign them. In an hour more came to fill another table and then yet another. Old friends and families engaging again against the odds of time and serendipity. It was wonderful to see them, fewer in number than ever, yet just as full of life too.

And of course, the stories began to slip out, quietly at first and then as one begat the other and fueled old but full memories, they escaped the minds like free flowing water and were nearly continuous, non-stop, and it was a rejuvenation. They spoke of men no longer with us, the spoke of liberty in Australia (always a favorite topic) and they spoke of some of the unspeakable. A few had a tear in their eyes but all conversation made the turn back to the pleasant and entertaining. Even a story of spending a few days in the brig, with a menu of bread and water every other day, drew smiles and laughs. They were simply glad to be here, be among family and among ship mates that understood a shared experience that others never would.

Doolittle Raid 68th Anniversary

It was 68 years ago today, April 18, 1942 that the improbable, unlikely and remotely even physically possible occurred. Colonel Jimmy Doolittle and his 16 B25 Mitchell bombers and crews barely launched from the violently pitching flight deck of the USS Hornet and to the absolute and embarrassing astonishment of the Japanese, bombed their home islands.

The USS Nashville played an important role in the raid, sinking the two Japanese picket vessels and taking aboard prisoners. An excerpt from “Humble Heroes”;

The morning of April 18, 1942 dawned with an overcast gray sky and heavy foreboding seas for Task Force 16. Intermittent rain squalls and thirty-foot swells sent waves crashing over the bow of Nashville with spray reaching the bridge, and even so the larger ships Hornet and Enterprise, with decks sixty feet above the waterline. At 5:58 AM one of the Enterprise’s scout planes, patrolling forty miles out, spotted a Japanese patrol vessel. The scout plane immediately banked hard left and flew back to the Enterprise to warn the task force, still under strict orders to maintain radio silence in order to maintain the critical element of surprise. Pilot Lt. Osborne B. Wiseman hastily wrote that he had spotted an enemy patrol vessel at latitude thirty-six degrees, four minutes north, and longitude 153 degrees, ten minutes east, placed it into the canvas message bag, flew low and steady over the Enterprise, and his radioman tossed it onto the deck at 0715. Ominously, Lt. Wiseman also noted he thought he may have been sighted. Again the task force adjusted course and again luck apparently held. But it was a temporary hold.

At 0738 Hornet spotted yet another enemy patrol vessel barely and intermittently visible approximately ten miles distance. Japanese patrol vessel NO. 23, of the 5th Fleet, the Nitto Maru, was about to be introduced to the US Navy courtesy of the Nashville. There was no longer any doubt now that the Japanese knew the exact location of Task Force 16 and their destination. Luck had finally deserted the Navy.
The radioman on the Nitto Maru had sighted the task force and went below to advise his captain that two beautiful Imperial Navy carriers were in sight. The captain rushed on deck to see for himself and responded, “Yes, they are beautiful, but they are not ours.” He promptly returned to his cabin below and shot himself in the head. The search was on for the Americans. Akagi Maru and Awata Maru immediately searched for the task force but could not locate the ships, and the same held for the Kisarazu Air Group of the 26th Air Flotilla.
Nashville had her own ears alert and picked up the trail also. Ron Neff, ARM2c who was not flying due to the impending launch of Doolittle’s bombers said, “I was sitting down in the transmitter room fiddling around with the receivers and I got this code and it didn’t make sense to me. I buzzed the Lieutenant up in the radio shack and he said to switch it over. It was that sampan out there.” Later, after all the shooting was over, Ron received a call back from the Lieutenant. “He called me down later and said, ‘I guess you heard the results of that,’ and I did.” Ron summed up the entire experience of the raid succinctly and accurately. “It was rather thrilling. A lot of it we did not understand until after it was done.” Later, during his Nashville service Ron would down a Japanese Betty bomber and sink a Japanese submarine.

Admiral Halsey instructed the Nashville to sink the Japanese ship immediately. The Nitto Maru was 9,000 yards off the port bow of the Nashville. The seas were rough with fifteen-foot swells from the northwest. Nashville was already in Condition of Readiness II as general quarters sounded and the order to “commence firing” was given at 0750. Fire Control ordered Director I to train on target, still at approximately 9,000 yards. A ten-second salvo was ordered and commenced for spotting purposes. About this time Shipfitter William Smith heard someone in the aircraft hanger start singing, “Good-bye Mama, I’m off to Yokohama.” Fire Control ordered “continuous fire” after spotting, but targeting was extremely difficult as the Nashville was rolling in the heavy seas and the Nitto Maru was either literally riding the crest of the waves like a fishing float or was totally obscured from view by those same waves. Joe Fales’ battle station was in magazine Turret Five, “that’s where the ammunition is in the canisters, and there was a strong aroma of the ether that preserves it. You’d pull the shell out of the shell casing, out of the canister.” For a while, only Turret Two had the unobstructed firing opportunity and they were ordered by Chief Turret Captain Bob Zuck to “pour it on,” and so they did.

A more difficult target that needed to be sunk quickly could not be imagined. At times it was impossible to see the target at all due to the swells, combined with the splashes of the six-inch projectiles. Nashville quickly swung to port to enable starboard firing on the target, reopening firing at a range of approximately 4,500 yards. Despite the difficulties presented by the rough seas, poor visibility, the size of the target, and the fact that some shells were believed to have passed completely through the vessel (only armor piercing shells were available at the time as opposed to high explosive bombardment shells which would have been more immediately effective against a thin-hulled vessel), Nashville sunk the Nitto Maru shortly after closing range with sinking occurring at 0823. “The sea was so rough it was only visible part of the time. We went into rapid fire and fired several hundred rounds before it sank. My battle station was shellman and I tried to remain calm as I loaded the 108 pound projectile. I weighed just thirty pounds more than it did,” said Alan D. Ensor BM1c. It was believed that the Nitto Maru was equipped with a radio and both machine guns and a small cannon. Nashville reported two survivors in the water but circumstances prevented a rescue with at least one wounded survivor witnessed sinking beneath the surface by the commanding officer.