The Generation Passes!

MikeBo’s Blog
Tuesday November 5, 2019
Mostly Cloudy in Texas 73°F/ 23°C
Good Day!

Harold Dunagan in 1944

The generation referred to is, of course, what Tom Brokaw called The Greatest Generation  in his best-selling book.  The Greatest Generation fought and won World War Two. Harold Dunagan was part of that generation. Dunagan was a sailor aboard my father’s ship – USS LST 920. He aided in the rescue of survivors from LST 920’s sister ship, the LST 921 during a torpedo attack on their convoy in the Dover Channel off the coast of England on August 14, 1944. In his first-person account of that day for my book, LST 920: Charlie Botula’s Long, Slow Target! Seaman Dunagan told me, When 921 was hit, the whole thing didn’t sink. It was cut in two with the front part staying afloat. The aft section went to the bottom of the channel with about half of LST 921’s crew. The LST 920, at first, acting under strict wartime orders, proceeded to it destination – Falmouth, England. However, a short time later, the 920’s Captain, Harry N. Schultz, disobeyed those orders and ordered his ship to come about and pick up survivors from the LST 921 and a British escort ship, LCI(L)99, which had taken the full brunt of a torpedo intended for the LST 920. Seaman Dunagan aided in the rescue of the survivors. Years after the war, he told me, We picked up survivors. As I remember, there were 48 survivors from the 921 and none from the other. (The British Escort ship – LCI(L)99).

Dunagan’s wartime service was entirely aboard my father’s ship, LST 920. My dad got to come home in December, 1945, after being granted emergency leave because his mother had suffered a serious

Harold Dunagan - recent photo

stroke and was not expected to live. But, Seaman Harold Dunagan, who had shipped aboard at the commissioning on 17 June 1944 stayed aboard the LST 920 through service in the European Theater, the War in the Pacific, Japanese Occupation Duty. Dunagan stayed aboard until 20 April 1946 when the USS LST 920 sailed into Suisun Bay to join the Mothball Fleet. Following the war Boatswain’s Mate Harold Dunagan returned to civilian life. His wartime duty was finished. On December 21, 1948 he married his wife, Irene. Their marriage would last 70 years until Harold’s death in October, 2019. Harold Dunagan lived to the ripe, old age of 95.

After LST 920: Charlie Botula’s Long, Slow Target! was first published in 2016, I received my first email from Dunagan’s daughter-in-law, Joyce Dunagan. She was the first of many family members to contact me after publication with questions about their loved ones or contributions to my store of knowledge on this deeply personal subject about my father and his shipmates. Joyce was able to tell me how much her father-in-law was pleased by my account of that horrific day. Not only did he keep a copy of the book on a chair next to his bed. But it was among the display of photos and Harold’s medals from his service in World War 2 at the funeral home just before his burial with full military honors. I was deeply touched to hear that. So many veterans of WW2 were reluctant to talk about their wartime experiences after they came back that many of their stories are lost. I’m grateful to be in a position to tell one of them.

When I first heard the tale of 14 August 1944, my father, Lieutenant Charles Botula, Jr. was telling

the story. He was Captain Schultz’ executive officer aboard LST 920. In my dad’s account of the

Seaman John Shields

attack, he was watching events unfold from the bridge of the ship. Suddenly, as he recounted to my younger brother and I, he looked down in horror to see the unmistakable wake of a torpedo approaching from the port side aimed directly at the midships portion of the 920. It would be the same spot that another of U 667’s torpedoes had struck LST 921, with such deadly results. Suddenly, as my dad told the story and other eyewitnesses would confirm, a British escort ship – later identified as LCI(L)99, hove into the path of the oncoming, hurtling torpedo and disappeared in a sheet of flame and smoke. When the smoke had cleared, my father recounted, the ship had disappeared. All that was left was some debris floating in the water. The ship, itself had disappeared!

In the years since the attack on Convoy EBC 72, I have become convinced that the Commander of the British escort ship – Leftenant Arthur John Francis Patrick Reynolds – deliberately placed his own ship in harm’s way to protect my father’s ship, LST 920. Protecting the ships in the convoy was Leftenant Reynolds’ prime mission, and I’m sure that the skipper, who had seen action previously in the Italian Campaign, took seriously.   

Seaman William Todd

 Two Seamen who were among the ship’s crew killed that day were Ordinary Seaman John Shields, Royal navy and Able Seaman William Todd, RN, age 19. Seaman Shields, whose age was not reported in the casualty list, was about the same age as Todd. Their youthful faces smile up hauntingly from their old photos, and we are reminded again that war is fought by the young people. Whether or not Captain Reynolds made a conscious decision to place his ship – LCI(L)99 into the path of that hurtling torpedo is a matter lost to history. The brave souls who were lost that day accomplished their mission. They saved many lives aboard LST 920, among them Harold Dunagan and my father, Charlie Botula. They also made it possible for LST 920 Skipper Harry Schultz to return to rescue the survivors from the hapless LST 921. For their heroism, I am eternally grateful.

Ciao,
MikeBo

[MIKE BOTULA, the author of LST 920: Charlie Botula’s Long, Slow Target! is a retired broadcast journalist, government agency spokesperson and media consultant. His book is available from Amazon Books. You can follow his blog at: mikebotula.blogspot.com, including his Rome Diary series, and learn more about Mike Botula at: www.mikebotula.com ]

©2019-Mike Botula