Happy Birthday, Uncle Sam! You’re 239 Years Young

“LOST MUSKET DIARY” Saturday July 4, 2015

Cloudy 63°F/17°C in Rancho Santa Margarita

Buongiorno,

"Thar she goes" Thomas Hart Benton

   This year, my Fourth of July celebration will be in the tranquil zone. Retirement communities tend toward the quiet side anyway. Plus, Dana, Jason and the kids – Jacob, Jessica, Jordan and Jaydan are now firmly planted in Texas, a place that I prefer just to fly over. No, I’ll probably join some of my neighbors by the pool and chatter on about the “Good Old Days,” with some good folks who are even older than me. I also plan on digging back in to my long term project. No, I’m not just reading a book.  I’m writing one. And, as I got to thinking about this Independence Day, I began to think about another July 4^th some 70 years ago. With that, I said a quiet prayer of thanks that Don Reed suggested that I get a copy of the log book from my father’s ship from the National Archives. That’s what brings me the material for today’s blog: the July 4^th my father observed back in 1944. No mere fireworks that day. They were using real ordnance back then.

Ensign Don Reed 1944

I’ve been referring to the LST 920’s ships log frequently ever since the FedEx guy dropped all six pounds of it on my doorstep ten years ago. “You’ll get a kick out of it,” Reed said. “It’s mostly course headings and navigation coordinates, but, as Executive Officer, your dad had to sign every page to make sure the other officers were doing their job, before the Captain reviewed it. Don was right. I had ordered only the period between June 17, 1944 and January 1, 1945 because I was focusing on the U boat attack on his convoy in August 1944. First thing I had to do was get the document copied and re-sized so it would fit in a regular 3-ring binder. Have you ever tried to get the guy at Kinko’s to Xerox 350 pages of anything where each page is stamped “U.S. NAVY: SECRET” and “CONFIDENTIAL: U.S. NAVY DOCUMENT” in big blog letters on every page? Fun stuff! But, I did it.

               So, this year as I while away the holiday at the Old Folks home, I let my mind wander back 0000 hours 4 July 1944. Ensign Harold H. Willcox, USNR who is about to by relieved by Ensign John Waters, USNR, notes in the LST 920's ship’s log:

Anchored in Cornfield Harbor, MD in berth Able 4.  Twenty fathoms of chain on deck. Anchor tending up and down, slight strain. Bearings checked every half hour and recorded in Bearing Book, hourly. All secure about the ship and bearings checked every half hour.

At 0400 Willcox is relieved by Waters as Officer of the Deck, and the beat goes on. I think to myself

Ensign John Waters

that having read every single page of this logbook, I’m beginning to feel like a member of the crew. (But, I know better than to think I’d be an officer. That’s my dad’s job. [“Sailor! Don’t ever forget!  You SALUTE when you see an officer! EVERY TIME, DAMMIT!” And, I would quickly snap to attention and muster up the snappiest salute in my life. “YES SIR, DAD, SIR!”]

Lieutenant "Dad"

  Cornfield Harbor is along a peninsula in Maryland that juts into Chesapeake Bay at the confluence of the Potomac River, not far from Washington, D.C., just north of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. During the war it was used by the Navy to practice amphibious landings. FDR could almost follow the action from his window at the White House. It was pretty isolated then. The bridge wasn’t built until the 1950s. So, dad and the crew spent the day trying to imitate a beached whale, along with LST 1001 and a few others, playing war games. I would imagine that, if the Germans had ever gotten lucky enough to invade that part of the east coast, the local Maryland and Virginia residents would have yawned and written the whole deal off as the US Navy, practicing again.

  On the chance that you don’t know how an LST works, here’s the deal: The Landing Ship Tank is really pretty much like 328 feet of vehicle tunnel with bow doors and a ramp at the bow with a big anchor attached to a thousand feet of chain at the stern. My dad and his crew of landlubbers from the coal country of Pennsylvania and West Virginia were spending this Fourth of July learning the tricks of the trade that they would need at Utah Beach.  So, as the ship approached the beach, she’d drop anchor just off shore and continue on to the beach, reeling out chain as she went. When the ship hit the beach, engines would stop, the bow doors would open, the ramp would be lowered, and the trucks, tanks and troops on board would “hit the beach.” Once that was done, the LST 920 would power up and winch itself back off the beach and head back to port for another load. Landing exercises, fire drills, equipment repairs and adjustments-the crew of the LST 920 had a busy day. No mention of picnics or cold beer or fireworks at this beach party.

Family Portrait

              In fact, this would pretty much be the ship’s routine for the next several weeks, getting ready to join the war. There would be more “shaking down” for the ship and its crew before picking up a secret cargo to be divided between the 920 and its sister ship the LST 921. These would be busy days before joining their convoy off Nova Scotia and making the long, monotonous journey across the North Atlantic. (Day after day, log entries note the presence of LST 702 being dead ahead in the convoy formation).  For the men aboard ship it would be a long year and many new adventures ahead before they returned to their families. And for some, there would be no homecoming. That’s why, on national holidays like this, while everyone around me is partying, I always take a moment to remind myself and the people around me that the reason that we can enjoy the holiday and the freedom of America today is because a lot of other Americans spent their Fourth of July fighting to defend it.

Ciao,

MikeBo

©Mike Botula 2015