BRUSH WITH TERRORISTS

While we were living in Basel, Switzerland when I was a child, there was an international uproar among the growing communist sympathizers because two known communists named Sacco and Vanzetti (about whom a well-known movie was later made) were sentenced to death in New York. Even afterwards, man thought they had been unfairly convicted. The people in Basel had always been friendly to us Americans, however there were enough radical communists that they declared a day of strike. The bus company refused to obey it and their station was blown up. A great rally occurred at the large marketplace which I observed.  They were shouting anti-American slogans. I appeared like a Swiss boy, and so was not bothered, but I went home angrily and decided to show them who was an American. I hung out a large American flag on the front of the mission home. Mobs gathered that night, marching in front of us with torches and shouting at us. After the bombing it was considered so serious that some of the marine guards from the American embassy were dispatched to guard our mission home until things calmed down. My father complemented me on being a patriotic American, but suggested that it might be well to use better judgment in how I advertised it.

STORMS AT SEA

A violent storm at sea is an awesome experience. During one such storm, the ship was rocking so far that we couldn’t keep the dishes on the table. During another storm the waves must have been so high that they blanketed the ship. The machine gun turrets on each side and higher than the bridge were both flooded. I was in the radio room when the wave hit. The wall outside my quarters had been reinforced with concrete and steel. The wave hit it so hard that I was afraid the wall was going to collapse in on me. After the storm I ventured out .  To my unbelief the railing had been shorn apart and tipped up at a 90 degree angle.  It was not a simple pipe railing, but was perhaps 2 inches in diameter and all metal. It was hard for me to realize that a wave could be so strong as to cause that amount of damage to a metal railing.

At another more fortunately time, as we approached the Philippines, I would get at noon each day a report on a typhoon’s latest position. It was moving up at a rate which should have taken us to the position we expected to be by the next noon.  The captain decided not to alter our course, but to try and weather it. When that noon came, we were in balmy, sunny weather.  The crew all said, “Sparks, where is your storm?”  When I checked its position, it had stopped in its tracks for 24 hours and let us sail by. The following noon it had moved up to the position we had been in. That storm crossed the Philippines and destroyed several villages. I was so thankful that it stopped for 24 hours and let us go by.

LIFE AT SEA

 At the time of my sea experience, I was only out for one full year before I was ordered to return to the laboratory. However, as evidenced by the frequent posting, that was a memorable year. It was especially nice for an old amateur radio operator to be paid to do what I did as a hobby.  The life of a radio operator on a one-operator ship was really delightful.  As a ship’s officer, we would dine sumptuously at the captain’s table. When in port, the only duty was to check and be sure the batteries were charged.  Beyond that we were free to sight-see the whole time the ship was in port. We didn’t need hotel because the ship was always there to welcome us back. On the SS Mexican after it was fitted for war service they converted the captain’s quarters for the radio room and operator’s state room. These were immediately below the bridge and had wonderful view over the bow of the ship. My bunk was cross-ways below the port holes. After the war started and our transmitting equipment was sealed my only duty was to copy weather reports and of course, news. The rest of my shift could be spent propped up in my bunk reading and enjoying the view out of the port hole.

MY WORST SPANKING

My family took seriously the biblical warning that sparing the rod spoiled the child.  My youngest brother Max was so sensitive that a stern look took him to tears and was all the punishment he needed.  However, I was a much more stubborn child and deserved some good spankings. At one time, as my dad prepared to administer one, I complained . He said, “This will hurt me more than it will hurt you. My emphatic retort was, “Oh Sure!”  He said, “Well, let’s try and experiment to verify it.” He had me go out and find a good willow, which I had to replace with a stronger one. Then he stooped over and ordered me to whip him. I gave my dear father a few love taps, but that wasn’t sufficient. He kept at me until I gave him a good whipping. You know, he was right! It hurt me much more than it hurt him. In fact, it hurts me now almost ninety years later and almost brings me to tears. His point was well proved. In all the time I knew him I never recall an angry word or tone in his voice. My mother said I sometimes angered him, but he avoided reacting with me until he was over it and could demonstrate real love.

THE OUTSTANDING NAVY SEAMEN

 As we sailed to Australia on the SS Mexican in the Spring of 1942, we had a gun crew of enlisted Navy seamen onboard who were commanded by what was commonly referred to by the Navy brass as a “ninety-day wonder”, who was commissioned as an officer upon graduation from a university, but who never attended Annapolis. One night I was awakened by the ship’s siren. I hopped out of my bunk, slipped on my life jacket and stood by the radio equipment listening to the intercoms that we had to let the bridge and the various positions on the ship speak to one another. To my utter amazement before the siren reached full pitch I heard the gun crew saying that they had a ship in their sites which was following us and asking for permission to fire. The rule was that if two ships were in sight of one another they should turn away from one another to indicate no war-like intent. I am amazed at how those sailor boys were able to wake up, get something on and traverse the great part of the ship over the hold and get to the gun position on the stern in such a short time.  Fortunately, the other ship turned away and saved getting fired upon.

The gun crew’s commander had transferred from an aircraft carrier which soon afterwards was sunk. He was critical of Navy brass and used as an example that on the aircraft carrier, life boat positions were assigned alphabetically rather than based on proximity to their battle stations. He said that boat drills were chaotic because sailors bumped into each other racing across deck to get to their lifeboat positions.  His explanation was that graduates from Annapolis were concerned officers and gentlemen capable of any assignment and often experts in gunnery were assigned in radio positions or radio experts were assigned to gunner positions. We used to joke that Annapolis had a required course for graduation in “Stupidity”. This is the last of my blogs bashing the Navy brass.

INVITATION TO WAR

On the way home from the Philippines there was a pool aboard our ship, the West Cressy, about how far we would get before Japan attacked, based on the warning issued by the secretary of Navy. One week before Pearl Harbor day, I awoke to find our ship sailing through the midst of our whole battle fleet. The battleships all were stationary without any surrounding destroyer escorts or protection. They had no way of knowing who we were because we were purposely routed away from shipping lanes. Finally one battleship lowered a seaplane, which circled us a couple of times and then returned. No ship blinked to ask us for identification. Had we been a Japanese Q-boat or disguised as a freighter, we could have launched torpedoes into most of our battleships before they could have responded. That night the whole sky kept lighting up as they practiced gunnery exercises. It appeared to us like the fleet was inviting a possible attack. At that time President Roosevelt was concerned about the wide isolationist feelings in this country when England so desperately needed out help against the Germans. We couldn’t help wondering whether the American Navy was surreptitiously inviting a minor attack. The commander of the Pacific fleet must has been aware that our battleships were at serious risk a week before the Pearl Harbor attack. If the Japanese had been attracted by the gun fire and display of our helpless battleships, they could have accomplished what was accomplished a week later at Pearl Harbor.