SOME GREAT STORIES FROM OUR SHIPMATES

E-mail message

From: Richard Baker: ranchroad320@earthlink.net.
Date: Fri, Nov 9, 2007, 10:12pm To: DD847@webtv.net "NAVY DAYS"

In March 1958, while a high school student in California, I applied for enlistment in the US Naval Reserve. After obtaining parental consent, passing medical examinations, mental examinations, and academic assessment and the presentation of references from teachers, priest, and police, I was accepted into the ranks of Naval Reserve Surface Division 11-41, located aboard USNRTC San Diego. I was issued with uniform, consisting of Dress Blues, Undress Blues, Dungarees, and Whites, with an allotment of skivvies, socks, shoes and sundries; and assigned a Service Number . . . 484 â€" 14 â€"XX.
A few comments here â€" the blue uniform was wool â€" melton, to be exact. It consisted of the Jumper, the collar of which had to be creased at third points, the sleeves creased reversed. The name and number of the owner was stenciled in white, on the inside hem. Trousers were of the same material, thirteen button fall front style, and also had to be creased reversed, and stenciled. There was no belt, but there were adjusting tapes at the top back seam of the trousers. This No. 1 dress required the Neckerchief, a square of silken material, rolled just so, and tied with a square knot, at the point of the vee in the Jumper neck. The cover was either the blue wool Flat Hat or the canvas White Hat, shaped just so. The White Hat was never, in those days referred to as ‘dixie cup’ and the uniform was never called anything but ‘Dress Blues’. It was probably still too close to the war years for the disrespect that came later.
Whites were cotton â€" not permanent press - and of the same general pattern as the blues, except the trousers were normal button fly, and a belt was provided, in white. Pockets were not a part of the uniform, you wore your wallet folded over the top of your pants, with one half in and the other out. Dog tags were worn attached to a belt loop, along with your keys and knife. Everyone wore a knife and nothing was thought of it, it was a part of the seaman’s costume.
The Service number had some sort of code the Navy could read, but all I know about it is that the first three numbers indicated the geographic region of your enlistment. Social Security numbers meant nothing in those days, because we didn’t pay social security taxes and didn’t earn enough to get credit anyway.
Naval Surface Division 11-41 was quartered in a rather plain two story building surrounded by acres of concrete. There were arranged around the building, one 5"/38 open mount; one 3"/50 open mount, one 40mm quad and one 40mm twin mount, a ‘K’ gun, Hedgehog, Mousetrap, a set of torpedo tubes, raised platforms carrying various GFCS, Torpedo director, Searchlight, signal lamps, flag bags and a mast for the Skivvy Wavers. There was also an area for firefighting practice, and the building itself sprouted antennae. There was a wheelhouse with the usual fixtures and furnishings, where watches were stood as they should be at sea. The wheel even worked. A galley and mess deck added to the realism. Diesels and various pumps and motors were in the basement, where the Snipes could feel at home. There was a large pool - like structure full of machinery and platforms that could be flooded for Damage Control training.
Drills were Thursday nights, every week for those passed recruit. But for we ‘boots’ Drill was all weekend, first we learned the various drill movements and the care and keeping of the uniform. That was followed by another ‘cycle’, during which we marched our butts off, became acquainted with the US Rifle, Cal .30 Model 1903. We were invited to attend Thursday evening’s festivities to attend to whatever administrative details became necessary.
The June weekend was spent aboard a tired old DE sailing the coast to San Francisco and back.
Along with the more seasoned members of the Division, we practiced all the standard navy shipboard evolutions, including dropping depth charges, firing the 3" and 40mm, standing lookout watch, and walloping pots and pans in the scullery. We learned about making up racks, puking down wind, and water hours. We got to see the ‘real Navy’ passing by on its appointed rounds. The old DE, BTW, was a sinecure for Navy veterans passed the point of serving arduous duty aboard fleet destroyers. The reduced regular crew were all WWII vets, finishing up their careers. Every weekend they took out Reservists, and during the summer they made a couple of two week reserve cruises, but other than that, they were home most of the time. Since my old man was regular Navy, I caught a certain share of grief when I messed something up. July first, it was NRTC San Diego, for Boot Camp, for which we were fairly well prepared.
All in all, not a bad training regime.
Graduated the foreshortened Reserve Boot Camp at the end of August, just in time to start my Senior year, and the normal Reserve training cycle continued. The Navy didn’t miss a trick, and got in its share of training during weekends and school holidays, including more sea time, on the same old DE.
In May, I thought to ‘go regular’ and, in my innocence, talked to a Navy Recruiter â€"(The Old Man was in WesPac on a Fleet Boat at the time). The Recruiter was a neighbor and listened attentively to my resume and future plans, nodding appropriately. There were reams of paper to be filled in and things to sign, but by then, it was routine and of no concern to me. Imagine my surprise when I showed up for Drill, to be met by the Chief Yeoman, with a sheaf of papers and a set of orders. I had to turn in all my kit that weekend and I was officially discharged from the US Naval Reserve, without so much as ‘Farewell!’
That was the day I learned there were two Navies, and the one resented the other’s ‘poaching’.
The orders required my presence at USNRTC San Diego, not later than 0600 6 June for Recruit Training.
The parochial nature of the two branches extended to the regulars not considering USNR Boot Camp to be socially acceptable enough, I guess. So I got to go twice, sort of. I resented it but we did some things the Reserves didn’t â€" like march a whole lot more, pull ‘Service Week’ and do some small boat work, rowing around the island.
Because I had already initiated in the mysteries of spit shining, leggings lacing, manual of arms, and clothes stops, I was drafted as a Recruit Petty Officer and held a somewhat more exalted position than mere ‘Boot’. Naval Recruit Training Center San Diego is gone now, though the facilities remain, I hear.
With the Navy repeating the process, and the Army sending me through their prior service basic training, I think I rate a post graduate degree in Recruit.
Another difference from the USNR was, the regular Navy sent you through this process where a bored, overweight, middle aged Personnel Clerk ran you past the ‘Dream Sheet’ This was where you asked for assignments and/or training you desired, and he slotted you where the Navy needed bodies. This was the ‘Sputnik’ early days and so, every one wanted into some high tech field. All my serving relatives had suggestions, the gist of which was ‘Electronics’ â€" and, miracle of miracles, I qualified for any training the Navy offered.
My friend, the Personnel Clerk, considered the opportunities and weighed my qualifications, and filled in some papers, telling me, "Look kid, yer ol’ man’s a Gunner’s Mate, right? Yer uncle’s a Engineman?
Yer udder uncle’s a Boatswain’s Mate? What’ch wanna do, is this, see . . . I’m gonna put ya in for FT school, but ya wanna go t’ sea first, see? There’s a wait fer school seats an’ you’ll just be messcookin’ and crap until a seat opens up for ya. Go to sea on a ‘can, an’ when school opens up, you’ll come in salty, maybe even designated striker, an skip all the horseshit, see?" I signed.
So I reported aboard USS Marsh DE 699, the Sonar School sea boat and a Reserve training ship.
I also reported aboard as General Service Seaman Apprentice, and so went to the Deck Force.
Never had a sniff of FT School and busted rust and painted until she went into the Yard and they transferred me to a 2100 ton Destroyer â€" USS Colohan DD 658, home ported in Long Beach.
My old man had been transferred to Dam Neck, Va. and one day, I put in a chit for transfer to
DesLant for ‘family reasons’, and the ship approved it. I forgot about it, and we were bound to the Yard when the orders finally came.
So I got to ride Greyhound from Long Beach, Calif. to Norfolk, Va., wearing dress blues â€" the only authorized travel uniform, for about nine days. On arrival at Naval Reception Station, NOB, NORVA, I was told I looked a sack of @#%$ and my ship was at sea, so I could jolly well fall out and do details until she came in.
For a month, I swept, raked, swabbed, polished, stood guard, pulled security watches at the Waves Barracks, and Fire Watches in Transient Barracks, until my name was called at the morning cutting out.
We were given about 12 nanoseconds to collect our kit, shift to dress blues, get cleared and over to D & S Piers (Destroyer and Submarine piers) some ways a way, down the highway. Being a DesPac destroyerman, I had po-lenty dungarees and two seabags. Huffing and puffing, running late and a little nervous, we caught the shuttle and got to the gate at D & S Piers, where the Marines went through their
‘Piss Off Popeye’ routine and harassed us for orders and general military appearance. Finally they advised, with a smirk, that the piers were still a mile or so away, and "No, there ain’t no shuttle!"
The drill was, you wandered the place until you saw the hull number you were looking for, and finally, we did. Lying outboard in a nest of four, alongside a Tender. So we had only to cross five Quarterdecks, including the Tender, which was flying a Flag. Two of us were reporting to USS Robert L Wilson DDE 847 that morning. Straining and cussing, I got my two seabags to my new home, finally, where the Chief Bo’sun’s Mate told me I looked like a sack of @#%$, and assigned me to 1st Division, where, he assured me, he could personally keep an eye on my performance And by the way, Captain’s personnel inspection was first thing in the morning and I had better be *7^%$ ready!!! With a comment about Pacific Pussies,
He turned me over to a Leading Seaman and such was my welcome to the Atlantic Fleet. The irony of all this is, that we went to sea immediately after inspection, to accompany USS Wasp to Boston. My old man had gotten orders back to the West Coast from Dam Neck, and so, I never got home at all.
The ‘Willy Boat’ was a good ship, a 2250 still armed with 40mm and 21" torpedo tubes â€" this was way before framming caught on. Skipper was a Submarine Lt Cmdr who wore glasses, and a hell of fine Captain he was. He was a true Destroyer skipper in that he could throw that thing around like a kayak, and he proved it more than once in the North Atlantic.
We shot hell out of Vieques, then attended upon the Bay of Pigs deal, sorted out some Dominican troubles and reminded the Haitians who was boss and also recovered the TS ‘Santa Maria’ which had been hijacked by some Portugee rebels. During this last bit, the ‘Seawolf’ scared hell out of us, by thrashing up from astern submerged, sounding like an ice crusher, then popping up along side. We, the unwashed, only knew that a strange boat was closing us from astern and us doing 20 knots.
Skipper made Cmdr and left the ship, and we got as complete an a**hole as the Navy ever hired.
Utter incompetent shiphandler, he was a NSO officer who needed command time for his fourth stripe.
Went to the Med, almost collided with 6th Fleet Flag ‘Springfield’; got barred from entering port, then got kicked out of Barcelona for sinking a pilot cutter in collision; failed to make a Med moor in Genoa and had to be moored by ‘Damato’; then got underway with the stern wire over and the brow still aboard, dropped it in the drink and parted the wire killing a GM3 on the fantail. On the way back to CONUS, they were trying to make TF Bravo photo, and he couldn’t keep station, so we were ordered to open out to the horizon, and keep the TF in sight.
We took ‘Wasp’ to Boston and made a speed run through a storm to make NORVA in time for the welcome party. We lost the whaleboat, stove in the forty mounts, broke up two messcooks, and shipped considerable water. We made the pier with a starboard list and looked like we’d lost a fight.
Shortly thereafter, a Hurricane bore in on NORVA and everybody was ordered to sea, while the Minecraft came up and occupied the D & S piers. With a bloody gale raging, this guy managed to ram a Dolphin, splitting it open and sending piles adrift amongst all those wooden hulled Mine Minders.
That was it for the Navy, they relieved him that day and required his presence at Washington, DC the next morning.
I would have you know that this clown took over the hottest property in DesLant at the time, having won everything winnable for two years straight â€" the old Wandering Willy had so many green, red, white ‘E’s and hashmarks, she looked like a Filipino Taxi. His command lasted six months.
------------------------------------------------------------------

From:    "ERNEST C MESSINGER" To:    GGRicks@webtv.net> Subject: US NAVY MEMORIAL LOG MEMORIES SENT TO US NAVY MEMORIAL PERSONAL LOG ROOM PLANK OWNER Date:    Mon, Jul 14, 2003,  
----- Original Message -----
From: ERNEST C MESSINGER

Sent: Sunday, July 13, 2003 11:34 PM
Subject: US NAVY MEMORIAL LOG MEMORIES
MY FAVORITE MOMORIES ON THE USS ROBERT L WILSON DDE-847 FROM 1959 TO MAY  1963 ARE THE BEST OF MY BEST ONES. THE CHASE IN JANUARY 1961 FOR EIGHT DAYS AT SPEEDS OVER THIRTY KNOTS WIYH ALL FOUR BOILERS AT THEIR PEAK ALONG WITH SISTER DESTROYER USS DAMATO ALONGSIDE FROM ASW OPERATIONS IN THE CARIBEAN WE WAS TOLD THE SS SANTA MARIA PASSENGER LINER WAS TAKEN OVER BY HIJACKERS WITH GRENADES AND MACHINE GUNS TO GO GET THAT SHIP BACK AT ALL COSTS. ONLY PART OF THE SHIPS CREW AND OFFICERS WAS EVER ACCROSS THE EQUATOR AND WERE SHELLBACKS THE REST OF US WAS CALLED POLYWOGS HA HA SOME JOKE SO WE THOUGHT. THIS WAS THE FIRST  TIME US SHIPMATES HAD OUR ADREDILINE GOING WILD WE WAS REALLY CHASING DOWN PIRATES AND MY JOB DOWN IN THE FORWARD ENGINE ROOM WAS ON THE SHIPS THROTTLES ANSWERING ALL SPEEDS FROM THE BRIDGE. AFTER CHASING THE SS SANTA MARIA FOR OVER SIX DAYS WE WERE REALLY GETTING READY TO CROSS THE EQUATOR AND WE KNEW US POLYWOGS WAS GOING TO GET ONE HELL OF AN INDOCTRINATION OR BUTT WHIPPINGS WHEN WE CROSSED THE EQUATOR BUT WE WAS SO HIGH WITH PRIDE TO GET THAT SHIP BACK WE DID NOT CARE AND LOVED EVERY SECOND. THIS REALLY WAS THE BEST EIGHT DAYS AT SEA WE EVER COULD ASK FOR. WE DID CROSS THE EQUATOR NEAR BRAZIL BUT PUT OFF THE FUN AND BEATINGS UNTILL WE CAUGHT THE SS SANTA MARIA AFTER A FULL EIGHT DAYS AND PUT A FEW FIVE INCH STAR DUMMY SHELLS OVER HER BOW THE HIJACKERS GAVE UP TO OUR NAVY BOARDING PARTY ALONG WITH THE DAMATO.MATES WHAT A WILD RIDE AND WE DID ALL BECOME SHELLBACKS FROM NEPTUNES REX WITH AWARD CARDS TO PROVE IT.  MY SECOND BEST MEMORY HAD TO BE THE THE 1962 CUBAN MISSLE CRISIS WITH THE BLOCKADE PRESIDENT KENNEDY PUT AROUND CUBA FOR SIX MONTHS.SINCE WE WAS ALLREADY IN QUANTAMO CUBA FOR EIGHT WEEKS OF HELL EXERCISESFOR ASA READINESS WE WAS PUT ON WAR TIME DUTY RIGHT FROM THE START FOUR HOURS ON EIGHT HOURS OFF DOWN IN THAT ENGINE ROOM IT WAS OVER ONE TWENTY DEGREES ALL DURING GENERAL GUARTARS MOST OF THE TIME WE STOPPED ALL SHIPS FOR BOARDING WITH A PARTY OF OFFICERS AND MEN ARMED TO SEARCH FOR POSSIBLE MISSLES GOING INTO CUBA. I REALLY THOUGHT THIS WAS OUR NEXT BIG WAR WITH RUSSIA COMING AND IT WAS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME. BUT AS HISTORY TELLS AFTER SIX MONTHS THE RUSSIONS BACKED DOWN FROM US AND TURNED THEIR SHIPS AROUND AND GOT THEIR MISSLES OUT OF CUBA AND WE ALL GOT VERY DRUNK AT THE NAVAL STATION PX CLUB ON ONE EYE INDIAN BEER CALLED HATOOIE THEN WE ALL WENT BACK HOME TO GOOD OLD NORFOLK VA.  BOY THOSE WERE THE DAYS OF TIN CAN SAILORS AT THEIR BEST AND LOVING IT FOREVER! -------------------NOTE1  DEAR GEROLD JUST THOUGHT YOU MIGHT LIKE A COPY OF MY BEST TWO MEMORIES ON THE WILSON WILLYBOAT THAT I SENT TO GO INTO MY FILE AT THE US NAVY MEMORIAL LOG ROOM IN MY PERSONAL FILE. I AM AN ORIGINAL LIFETIME PLANK  MEMBER FROM  1995.YOU CAN ADD ADD THIS TO YOUR SITE IF YOU WANT TO.  SINCERLY ERNIE M