U.S.S. Allen M. Sumner DD-692
Sea Stories - Chapter 3

From: Gary Whitehead (YN3 66-69)
Subject: Transferring Back
Feb 67: I had reported on board the Sumner in the fall of 66. The ship's football team was playing a game over in the ball field at Mayport. I stepped in a hole and rolled over on my right shoulder. Someone else had a severe cut to the forehead so I took him over to the dispensary and told them about my shoulder hurting. They took X-Rays and had broken my right collar bone. I was on medical restriction for several weeks. I then got orders to the USS GOODRICH that was in the yards up in Charleston. Off I went. Before I left the ship, I can't remember his name (SN Varner) but he wanted a swap because he didn't want to go to Vietnam. I remember being on board the GOODRICH on a Saturday and the PN came and told me my orders back to the SUMNER had just came in by message and I had to report on Monday, February 6th since the ship was leaving for Vietnam on the 7th. I was transferred back to the SUMNER without my pay record. The DK's could only give me enough money to buy personal items. I remember the guys in 1st Division loaning me money so I could go on liberty in Hawaii. I remember Jim Swenson, Smythe and a kid by the name of Dave Crockett (who got a blanket party in the 1st division quarters). I finally got my pay squared away and paid everyone back. I just remember how close we(1st Division) were and what a great much of guys. Remember Clark playing the guitar he brought and the only tune he could play was GLORIA!!. It drove us NUTS.

From: Jon Randall (SN 65-68)
Subject: Memories
I had just extensively perused the Sumner web site, and talk about memories that flooded back from the pictures. I served aboard her from 1965-1968, leaving after when we got back to Mayport after the WestPac/SeaDragon cruise. At that time, I was in "O" Division, under the name of Randall Jon Grocholski, having changed my legal name shortly after leaving the Allen M. What is strange to say, but I do still miss her, and remember the closeness of the crew, to which I felt was tight with deep camaraderie, and never had felt that on any other ship since leaving her. I subsequently helped decommission a DER, then back into Vietnam in the Riverine force on an ARL. The best memory I had was the Captain Baty of the Sumner during my initial embarking of her, and remembered how fondly he was thought of by the crew, with many lumps in the throats of those who saw him leaving for another assignment. My first experience with her was after leaving CT school, and being assigned as a BM near Nov of 65 if I recall. I remember that shortly after I arrived, we left and headed toward Norfolk, and ran into a storm. I was told to get some foul weather gear, and not knowing the ship (2nd day), went forward topside, and was almost swept overboard due to the high seas. I remember the Captain calling the Chief BM to the bridge and chewing him out for not advising me to be able to travel inside the ship out of harms way to the forward storage locker. How I got into "O" Division was during that time we crossed the International Date Line, and a general announcement was made that if anyone wanted to see it on the radar scope, could come to CIC and see it. I fell for it....hook, line, and sinker...and stayed up there for some time fascinated by the operations of CIC and sitting in front of the radar screen. After the cat was let out of the bag, and I recovered from my red face, I felt if I couldn't lick them...I'd join them...and eventually became a Radarman, eventually going into ECM. During Sea Dragon, my GC station was Port Sky Lookout, and saw firsthand the shells exploding in the air around us, and looking over the side of the ship to see the shrapnel embedded into the steel hull just above the waterline. I remember at one time a Signalman yelling to me to duck and hide due to the airborne explosions, but that somehow didn't phase me. I was fortunate to never have been touched and now feel God kept His hand on my life. During the shelling of the NVA sites, the Fire Control system was malfunctioning, and I had to help pinpoint targets visually from that post. I also helped spot that pilot that was downed in the Gulf of Tonkin. The Allen M. Sumner has been a part of my life, and will continue to be so, as I incorporate a part of her in my personal daily life on the computer. It saddened me to see that she was scrapped, and wish I knew it was happening and I had the position and wealth to stop it from happening. She was too good of a ship to meet that kind of fate.

From: Richard Mueller (MM3 60)
During 1960, I was an MM3 aboard Allen M Sumner. One day, when running "plane guard" duty for the USS Saratoga, She lost a plane over the side. We steamed up to the plane, which was floating with one member of the crew caught on top of the fuselage with cables around him. An officer aboard the Sumner (LTJG Philip C.Painter, Engineering) dove into the water and attempted to free the man from the plane. During the attempt, the plane began to sink and the pilot grasped the JG's wrist, pulling him several feet under water with him. Mr. Painter finally got loose and came back to the surface and swam back to the accommodation ladder, the tail section of the plane came out of the water and smashed into the accommodation ladder barley missing Mr. Painter. My question, did LTJG Painter ever receive an accommodation or award for bravery? (webmaster's note: click here to see the Ship's Log page of this event)

From: Gary Whitehead (YN3 66-69)
Subject: Baseball & Prayers
Senior Chief Beasley was the pitcher for the Sumner's baseball team and we went to the Japanese Army Base to play against their team. Of course, Senior Chief threw fast pitch and they played slow pitch. I played third base and when they would bunt, I threw to second base because they were so fast. It was quite an experience to take a tour of their base since a lot of their radio equipment was from WWII. Of course we won the game. Another experience was when we had a chaplain on board transporting him to another ship and we were in the storm in the Sea of Japan. Captain Beaman told him to get off the bridge with his movie camera, get below and start praying because it was not looking good since we were taking water over mount 51.

From: Don Marion (RM2 50-52)
Subject: Love at first sight?????
When I was a very little boy, my dad would occasionally take me to the local VFW. He was a Medic in WWI. When any of the members would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would answer,” I want to be a sailor”. There were times when this response would get me a soda or a  candy bar. Ten days after graduation in l948, I left home for Great Lakes Naval Training Center to fulfill my burning desire. After Boots, I was assigned to Radio School at Norfolk, Va. for 16 weeks. At graduation,  I thought finally I would go to sea and  surely it would be on one of those Sleek Destroyers.  When my orders were cut, it was for a tour as a Radioman at Naval Air Station, Roosevelt Roads, P.R.   Where is that ??? Surely this doesn’t float.  Six of us were put aboard an AKA for transport so I figured at least I would get to sea even if it was just for a few days. Wrong. we were taken off  the ship and put aboard an aircraft  bound for Puerto Rico.   When we exited the  R4D, I have never felt so alone in my life. There was a hanger and far on the horizon there was some kind of a building…This is my new home???? While we were there, Mr. Truman decided he couldn’t do without us and extended everyone for an extra year. No problem. When it came time for transfer, I was asked what kind of duty I would desire and of course I wrote down Destroyers.. Well someone in Bupers must have really screwed up because I got orders to proceed to Philadelphia to join the USS Allen M. Sumner DD692. Finally, my dreams were to be fulfilled. I could hardly wait for the 30 days of Delrep  to pass so I could finally  be a member of a seagoing destroyer force. The 30 days finally passed and  I reported to Philly and was directed to the location of MY ship.  I couldn’t believe what I saw.  Here was this large piece of metal, propped up on timbers, high and dry, half red lead and the rest was a conglomeration of rust, sand blasting, smoke and deafening hammering.  Sure enough, on  the bow I could just  make out the number  692. Could this really be one of those beautiful, swift and deadly Greyhounds of the fleet??? I don’t think so. One day while trying to hide from one of the marauding Bos'n Mates, I was in the Radio Shack painting when a couple yard workers came in with a cutting torch and proceeded to cut the bottom of  the mast. The mast was located forward of the aft bulkhead in Radio Central. After the mast was cut and removed  by a crane, one of the workmen reached into the socket and pulled up a bunch of tar with some coins in it. He threw it to me and said “Here Kid, there’s a souvenir for you". He explained that the men who built the Sumner threw coins into the socket before the mast was set as a Good Luck Omen.  I didn’t think much about it at the time but put the glob of tar in my locker.  The next day, the Bos'n did catch up to me and decided that since the radio antennas were connected go the  new mast, it would  be only fitting that a Radioman should paint it. Up he chased me to what seemed the top of the universe. But I wasn’t afraid, because I was TERRIFIED. Here I was clinging on for dear life and trying to paint. If it looked like a long way to the deck, it was miles and miles to the bottom of the dry-dock. This Destroyer life is not what I expected.  Things finally settled down and She began to look like some kind of a fighting ship. I was among some of the best friends I ever had in my life and it finally looked like it was time for a little bit of sea duty. She was finally put back into the water and made ready for sea trials, but my first day at sea is another story.. Seems like an eternity since those times and no one has called me KID in a very long time……I wonder why??  I still have one of the coins mounted in the matting surrounding the drawing of the Sumner and I gave my buddy and shipmate Jack Cook from Alabama the other one when he and his wife Shirley were passing through on their way to Niagara Falls for the reunion of '98 . Kinda makes us feel like She is still around.

From: Dan Coli (SN 66-69)
Subject: Eyeball to Eyeball!
Midwatch, February, 1968, just after the "PUEBLO" got grabbed by the N. Koreans. We were escorting a spy ship off the north coast of Cuba. Havana harbor to be exact. Two weeks of steaming 9 miles either side of the sea buoy at 4 knots. I was on port lookout when I spotted a port running light at a distance of 7 to 10 miles off our port bow indicating a vessel traveling west to east. We had been briefed about Cuban navy gunboats, with rocket capability, provided by the Russians. The contact crossed our bow then turned and made a straight approach down our starboard side. Coming to within 150 feet of the ship it turned a highbeam searchlight on us and signaled in international Morse code, "identify". By this time I was on the helm and in excess of 2 1/2 hrs. had elapsed. They knew who we were. It took them a week to come out and challenge us? In the intervening time a quiet was on the bridge while we had our attention riveted on the situation at hand. A commonality of thought threaded through us all. A strange sort of calm in the face of who knows what? After all an American Navy crew was at that very moment 1/2 a world away in a communist prison having had to surrender on the high seas. In the glare of that searchlight the Captain gave the order "Tell the United States Navy". We did. They kept going. So did we. They didn't come back. We stayed. That spy ship did it's job. We went home. End of story.

From: Dan Coli (SN 66-69)
Subject: Something Rare!
In early 1969 we were off the north coast of the Dominican Republic on an easterly course. It was 1000 hours (That's 10 o'clock in the morning to us civilian strikers) and it was a brilliant day on reasonably smooth seas. I was on messenger watch in the pilot house when the port lookout reported an air contact. For some reason, and I can't remember why, I had a pair of binoculars and there I was to witness an overflight of a pair of beautiful, combat ready, WWII, P-51 Mustangs flying patrol for the Dominican Air Force. It had been 24 years since the end of the war and it was a sight that few, if any, of the sailors of the 60's Navy could have a chance to see. It compared with the West-Pac cruise of 1967 when standing after lookout on the return across the northern Pacific I looked up and saw a large swept wing aircraft flying at an obviously high altitude. It had to be up high because it was leaving contrails in the thin atmosphere. The only really striking thing about it's appearance is that it had propellers. You could see them turning slowly in the distorted image from the high altitude. A very large, swept wing aircraft with propellers. Only two planes in the world fit that description and they were both Russian. Not 10 minutes later a Russian "bear" long range recon. plane came past us on our starboard side with one of our F-4 Phantom jets hot on it's tail. That thing was maybe as low as 500 ft. over the water and it was huge, and it made one hell of a roar as well as one hell of an impression.

From: John Boeckeler (LTJG 65-68)
Subject: An update on the "Rock"
Rock took over as CIC and O Division Officer when I left in May 68. Then I went to Boston University Law School. One day I was walking down Commonwealth Ave near the law school when this guy in a long coat bumped into me, on purpose. I was amazed to see it was Rock! At that time, 1970, he had returned from a tour in Vietnam on Swift boats and had some job at
the First Naval District in Boston. His plans were to get out of the Navy and go to law school on the West coast. After that we would get together occasionally until I graduated from law school and came to New Hampshire in 71. I lost track of him, but saw him a couple of times on television handling some motions having to do with DNA during the Simpson trial. So I knew at least he had finished law school and had become a prosecutor in California.

From: Mark Henry (RM2 69-72)
Subject: Why they tell you to use the lee side!
As I recall, We had just left the Med. and were cruising into the Atlantic on our way home. The sea was rough with a stiff wind blowing and I decided to take my camera and get some pictures of the waves breaking over the bow of the ship to show the folks back home. I went down into OC division and grabbed my camera. I went out the starboard hatch by the Post Office (I remember we used to call the area where the Post Office, The Barber shop and the Ships Store was "Down Town’) and out onto the deck and into the teeth of the wind. Just as I cleared the hatch and dogged it down, the ship turned to Port at a sharp angle. This, combined with the wind and waves, sent a wall of water rushing down the starboard side of the ship. I barely had time to grab the hatch handle and place my head and body flat against the ship when the water hit me. I hung on for a while, but it swept me into the starboard life lines and back towards the stern of the ship. I thought I had gone over the life lines and into the water. I tumbled in the water for a minute not really knowing if I was overboard or still on the ship. The water was cold and I had two thoughts. I hoped I would miss the props and I wondered if I did could I swim long enough for the ship to turn around and get me. Assuming they would know I was gone. But, I hit mount 53 and wound up wedged under it for a bit and then I was swept into the aft life lines where I came to a stop. I laid there on the deck for a minute as all of the water drained away and I caught my breath and took inventory of myself. I was soaked and banged up. My camera was soaked inside and out with salt water. I think the after lookout saw me and asked if I was alright. I said I was, but headed back down to OC division quickly. I forgot all about taking pictures for the day. This was sometime after Gary Carnot was swept over the side during refueling. For a minute, I thought I knew a little of how Gary must have felt when he went overboard.I was working on the bridge during the refueling when Gary went over. I didn’t envy his trip one bit. I was reminded once again of the power of the sea and how unforgiving it can be. It truly is the beauty and the beast all rolled into one.

From: Tom Brown (GMG2 66-67)
Subject: Guns fires back!
In chapter 2 of sea stories, Frank Presfield refers to our " chicken" on a stick not only being good, but having Knuckles. That would have been enough to slow him down, but what I said was "chickens don’t have elbows." He never had much appetite after that, but we managed to get rid of our pesos.

From: Jim Burton (GM3c 46-47)
Subject: The Top Dog!
After reading some of the other stories from the men who have served on the Sumner over the years, it brought back a lot more memories. One of the stories that brought a memory back was the occasion when General "Vinegar Joe" Stillwell came aboard the Sumner. When his motor launch pulled alongside there wasn't a sailor on board that didn't wonder who in the hell was coming aboard. He had with him two of the meanest looking Indo-Chinese body guards that I have ever seen. In addition to his body guards he had an Irish Wolf Hound dog that stood at least five feet high at the shoulder. We were told not to try and feed the dog anything as he had never been fed by human hands and foraged for his food whenever he ate. The story that came aboard with the General was that the dog could smell a Jap at a great distance and that the two Indo-Chinese were the best trackers that had ever come down the pike. I had in my possession for many years a one dollar bill that the General signed for me before he left the ship. There were four of us in the Gunnery Division who were the best damn pinochle players that were ever on the Sumner. God we were good! I wonder how many of our old shipmates can remember raiding one of the potato lockers that were located on the outside weather decks and then having a sliced potato sandwich?

From: Jim Burton (GM3c 46-47)
Subject: Able and Baker
Just recently purchased my computer. Last week we had in our local newspaper a small article on the atomic tests at Bikini Island in the Marshall Islands. Since I was there for both the Able and Baker tests it caught my attention. I was curious to know if I could retrieve any info on my computer. Needless to say I was quite surprised at the info available on the web. I served aboard the destroyer Allen M. Sumner DD692. We were on station at Bikini for approximately three weeks prior to the detonation of the Able Test. Our crew was given almost endless liberty for approximately two weeks prior to the first test. After the first test the Sumner was one of the first ships allowed into what was called the safe areas. We retrieved water samples approximately 3 hours after the detonation and were immediately on our way to Pearl Harbor with the samples. We stayed in Pearl for about 3 days before returning to Bikini. Without saying, we didn't have any more liberty on Bikini. However our captain took the ship to another small island about a half days run where we enjoyed swimming and sunning and drinking beer. After the Baker test we again retrieved water samples which we returned to Pearl Harbor. We never returned to the Marshall Islands. After this trip I can truthfully say the tests at Bikini were the most memorable of my naval career.

From: William (Bill) Patton (LTJG 69-71)
Subject: Day in the life of a LTJG!
One of the things I have always wanted to put down on paper is what a typical day was like for a young man on board a small combatant warship while underway. As a LTJG I was always tired when we were underway, and I finally figured out why...I wasn’t getting any sleep! Here is a "typical day" for me and, I think, for several of the crew who were serving on the Sumner. I will start at midnight, or actually slightly before.
2330, awakened by the Messenger-of-the-Watch.
2357, report to the bridge to relieve the Officer-of-the-Watch. Start consuming my weight in coffee to try to stay awake. Conning the ship to satisfy some bored assistant to the admiral on the carrier or cruiser, some guy sending out numerous signals to change the steaming formation. That, or steaming in the wake of an 80,000-ton carrier conducting some sort of night training ops. I can’t imagine what landing on a carrier must be like in total darkness.
0358, relieved to return to quarters to attempt to get some sleep. Not having much luck, as my blood-coffee ratio is close to half!
0600, awakened for a shave, shower and some breakfast. Runny eggs again? I’ll have the corn flakes.
0745, muster on station. Read the Plan of the Day to learn what has been scheduled for us for that day. Oh, good, refueling! Head for my job as the Communications Officer. Process a new shipment of code books.
1116, lunch a bit early in order to relieve the watch. Tuna salad on bed of lettuce. Canned fruit. Coffee.
1157, relieve the watch.
1325, Set the Special Sea Detail, Refueling! Make my way to my assigned station (JOOD). We make our way to the standby station aft of the ship refueling, and the Captain announces it is my turn to take the ship alongside. We wait, then accelerate in order to get alongside the oiler with the unpronounceable name, like Chattahoochee or Caloosahachee.
1557, Secure from Special Sea Detail! Back to my regular job. RM3 Henry tells me 60% of the teletypes are cas-rep’d (reported to SOPA as being inoperable).
1800, dinner .
1946, relieve the watch on the bridge. Only light air ops tonight. Launch and then later recover four F-4’s and a single tanker. No unpleasant incidents to night.
2348, relieved, by the mid watch, to get some sleep.

From: Don Gillis (DK3 70-71)
Subject: What's an ATS?
A recent issue of the Naval Institute Journal Proceedings had a blurb about the Coast Guard commissioning the USCGC Alex Haley (WMEC-39). This is a "medium endurance cutter" and is named in honor of the author of
"Roots" who was a former Coast Guard journalist. The "new" cutter was formerly the USS Edenton (ATS-1) which was commissioned in 1971. About this time, we were in port with the Edenton at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. We asked some of the sailors off the Edenton the obvious question, since the Edenton was a brand new prototype, "What's an ATS ?" The answer they gave us was that it was an "Attack Tug, Slow ".

From: Al Olsen (LT 51-54)
We had a CO, CDR Frank Lynch, who was a dynamo. He got permission, under the aegis of COMOPTEVFOR, to have our own color scheme below decks. Every Division was allowed to select their own colors. I'll explain. The First Division for example painted their decks dark blue, the clothes lockers under the bunks a lighter blue and the bulkheads a light blue. Now there's a story that goes with this. The First Division compartment was way forward with only one ladder in and out. One day a senior petty officer said to me, "XO, I understand that they are going to take the ladder out of the First Division compartment."  I said - "they can't do that - how would the deck force get and and out of their space?" He answered - "the First Division fairies are going to fly in and out of their compartment!"

From: William (Bill) Patton (LTJG 69-71)
Subject: Ensign Overboard!
I remember one of our captains (don’t ask!) was fond of tossing things overboard if he found they weren’t working. We lost battery-powered megaphones like crazy because of this habit of his. Anyway, one day I was on watch on the bridge and the JOOD (under instruction) was standing next to me when a radioman brought up a message sheet to be signed. The government-issued pen was out of ink, so the Captain (I ain’t telling!) cussed and sailed it out into the water. He asked if either of us had a pen, and the new Ensign said "Yes, Sir!" and proudly handed him his new solid gold pen he had been given as a college graduation present by his parents. Well, you guessed it, the darn thing didn’t work and it was last seen flying after the 15-cent pen. The blood drained from the Ensign’s face, because that pen probably cost about a week’s pay, but I stepped between him and the Captain with a finger to my lips indicating that he shouldn’t say anything at all. He was really upset, but I didn’t want him hacking off the Old Man! We junior officers used to wonder if the Captain might someday toss one of us overboard if we displeased him. I’m pretty sure no officers or men were ever lost on the Sumner for this reason, but has anyone ever checked? Sound off Shipmates!

From: Al Carpenter (LCDR 56-58)
Subject: Toilet Paper, Light Bulbs & Coffee.....
Running out of these items at sea was a store keepers nightmare. That's what they drilled into Gulick SKSN's head at class "A" school where he got his strikers designation. It was on a Tuesday after Labor Day 1957 when McWhorter SA came up from Chief's Quarters where he was a mess cook and compartment cleaner to draw a half dozen light bulbs from Gulick who had returned early that morning from a long weekend at home in Hoboken. He was in fine spirits still reveling in the joys of his 96 and looking forward to the NATO Cruise to Northern Europe, which was to start that same day. When Gulick came back from the store room he gave McWhorter only five light bulbs. This was a real wake up call for Gulick. He knocked out an emergency requisition for light bulbs and with Snyder EMFN in tow eased over the side telling the P.O. of the watch they were going to the parking lot to get something from their car. It was just after quarters and well before the special sea detail was to be set. They figured they could get to the supply center and back with the light bulbs without being missed before the ship got underway. They over looked the rush hour traffic between the Des-Sub piers and the supply center.  In the confusion that followed the ship got underway as scheduled and after clearing the sea buoy and waiting for the large ships to come out and form up for the long voyage ahead, AMS took station in the screen around the battleships and cruisers. Before getting underway I had reported to the Captain that all hands were present and accounted for. Being right after an extended holiday weekend and before a seven week cruise we were very pleased that nobody was absent. Not long after the ship settled down on station and steady steaming ahead, a flashing light came over from the Ingraham DD-694. The message requested AMS to make arrangements for a high line transfer alongside as they had two stragglers and four cartons of light bulbs for us. The Captain's short fuse blew out all over the bridge and I was summoned to explain the false muster report I had given him earlier. After the transfer things cooled off as we proceeded north. The ship reached Bangor Bay (near Belfast) Northern Ireland for weekend liberty before going on exercises above the Arctic Circle. Afterwards we turned south and entered the port of Amsterdam, Holland for a weeks liberty. It was a good cruise and the lights never went out in the ship. And yes, Gulick made third class.

From: Arne Schumacher (RdM2 46-49)
Subject: Pay Back
When we refueled from a carrier, the Carriers band personnel were known to sometimes stand in the hanger deck and play tunes such as "Come to Papa Do" as the little destroyer approached the large carrier. On one occasion, we responded by playing the Army Air Corp song over our bull-horn loudspeakers!  It was on a refueling, such as this, when the carrier guys turned on the fuel a crack before the hose was properly secured in the tank resulting in oil spilling on the deck and making it quite slippery, and needless to say messy, for the hose handlers.  When that happened the Sumner gang, after refueling was complete, would deliberately fail to secure the plug tightly in the end of the fuel hose before it was pulled back to the carrier.  As the hose neared the carrier on its trip back, the tension on the hose from the Sumner side was suddenly released. This resulted in the hose being banged against the side of the carrier and the oil remaining in the hose being splattered against the side of the carrier.

From: Frank Presfield (FTG3 66-69)
Subject: Mr. Ed
During our stay in Venice, Italy I was strolling along on SP Duty and taking in the sights at the same time. That is such a beautiful place and was simply relaxing. While walking along in St. Mark’s square I noticed this gentlemen and his companion. I took it to be his wife. They were very elegantly dressed for tourists. Something about him reminded me that he looked very familiar. I thought for a moment then decided to be bold and approach him. "Sir, excuse me, but I could not help but feel I have seen you before. I apologize if you feel I’m being bold." He responded, "That is certainly alright, cause I’ve been coming to your homes for a number of years. I’m Ed Sullivan. We are sort of here on our own "R&R", too." He took a cocktail napkin from one of the tables in the square and signed it to my parents, "To Frank & Pat, Best Wishes, Ed Sullivan". I believe my mother still keeps that as a memento.

From: Frank Presfield (FTG3 66-69)
Subject: Kaohsiung (pronounced cow-shung)
When we first heard we were going to Kaohsiung for R&R, a lot of us thought, "Where?". Hadn’t heard of it or only in Navy lore from some of the old hands. We weren’t disappointed. Going thru the seawall opening you could see why carriers didn’t use it. What a narrow opening. Once we tied up in the nest next to the tender USS DELTA, liberty call commenced and everyone was anxious to get in the MWB and hit the beach. I went over with my buddy GMG2 Brown. You got on the pier and lordy you got mobbed by all these gals. "Brownie" and I went into a saloon and three or four of these girls were hangin all over us and he said lets slip out the back door. So we did and got into a peddicab. This poor guy was peddling down the street when we heard this yelling behind us. We looked over our shoulder and those gals were chasing us down the street in another peddicab. We told the guy the best we could to "step" on it. He is pumping for all he’s worth and we come to a big intersection. He makes a swerve and lays this thing up on two wheels. Trucks and cars are coming from all directions. "Brownie" screams, "My mom is not going to believe it when they call her and tell her I’m hospitalized in Taiwan because of a peddicab wreck". We went to the Sea Dragon Club and had a big thick steak and spent every day enjoying this port and its friendly people. Some of the prettiest women in Asia, no doubt.

From: Frank Nekrasz (SO1 50-54)
Subject: Misappropriation Navy Style
I don't recall exactly when, but we were loading stores when a good portion of coffee, eggs and other goodies disappeared into the Engine/Fire Room bilges. We Sonarmen got our share and hid stuff in the bilges of the sonar transducer room. All hands were called to Quarters while the CO/XO offered amnesty if the stolen food was returned. If not, a search was to be made with punishment given to the people who owned the space where the booty was located. Our gang didn't give back anything but enough of the stuff was returned to call off the search and potential hangings. Another like situation occurred when the armory by the Wardroom athwartships was left open and weapons and hand grenades turned up missing. Again, all hands to Quarters, threats, appeals to turn the stuff in with promises of amnesty. It was all turned in, end of incident.

From: Gary Carnot (GMG3 66-70)
Subject: We learned to sleep through anything!
I remember once when Mount 52’s barrels caught on fire. The paint blistered from so many rounds and the mount filled with smoke. I was in the "pointer" seat, but we were on "auto" and the firing key was closed and locked. The guns fired whenever someone in the Fire Control Room closed their key. I was actually asleep and someone woke me to tell me the mount was on fire!

From: Gary Carnot (GMG3 66-70)
Subject: I’ve spent some time in the Med Sea!
On the 19th of September 1969 we were at refueling stations, about 300 miles south of Crete, in the Med Sea. My duty station was that of the phone and distance line handler. It had been dark for about 30 minutes when we received the word to secure from our station, as we were about to "break away".
I had been complaining about the deck line that had been laid out to dry next to our operating station on the 0-2 level. All throughout the refueling I had been having to kick the line out of my way to avoid tripping over it. I had just taken my lifejacket off and as I took a step back, I stumbled on the deck line. Trying to regain my footing, I actually stepped up higher on the coils and when I realized I had lost my balance I reached down behind me for the life line chain. Because I had stepped up higher than I would have normally been, the chain was actually below my knees. The result was that I tumbled overboard from the torpedo deck.
I remember yelling to the bridge lookout "man overboard" as I fell between the oiler and the Sumner. I hit the water off the Port side upside down and on my back, having done a complete flip. When I surfaced, I immediately began looking for the CS types that always sit outside and watch the evolutions, but no one was on the main deck that night.
When I got alongside the position of the after lookout I yelled "man overboard" again, and hoped that he was paying attention and could hear with his headphones on. I had stood that watch many times (I was there later when SN Ruhling fell off the fantail while we were on a full-power run to Rotterdam) and I always wore my phones with one ear uncovered.
I was turned upside down by the churning of the screws, and when I recovered from that I removed my wedding ring and put it in my pocket, was well as the brass belt buckle I was wearing. It was a full moon and I remember not wanting anything shinning underwater. We had seen several sharks during the day when the garbage had been emptied by the messcooks.
When I turned around, the lifeguard ship, the USS Damato had its search light on, but they were looking down the Port side, and I was coming down the Starboard. After the Damato, there was nothing but open sea. I knew that a Cruiser had been refueling at the same time as Sumner and I knew they had a helo onboard. I began to wonder if they would bother to launch it for an enlisted man. Funny how your mind works in situations like that.
Apparently the Captain had been on the Port wing of the bridge and he had heard my original "man overboard" declaration. He immediately initiated an emergency breakaway and notified the Damato that he had a man in the water.
As the Damato approached I was amazed how striking it looked from the water looking up. I thought they might run right over me, but I didn’t want to start swimming and causing a commotion in the water, thus attracting any fishy friends. I also noticed that they had moved their searchlights to the Starboard side, which I took as a good sign.
As they approached, I yelled "I’m over here and someone yelled back "we see you", to which I replied "gooooood".
I was tossed a life ring, and pulled up the starboard side, just below the bridge area. They took me to sickbay and offered me a hot cup of coffee. Not being a coffee drinker, I declined, but I did accept a shot of Coronet Brandy.
After a while, a crew member took my wet clothes and I sat in sickbay with a blanket wrapped around me. In about 30 minutes they brought my uniform back, washed , dried and pressed. I said to the Laundryman, "the next time I fall overboard, I’ll remember to bring all of my laundry...it takes me days to get it back on my ship".
Someone brought me a sandwich and I was given a bunk in the CPO quarters for the night. The Captain came by to tell me that I would remain on the Damato until we arrived in port, but the next morning while I was relaxing in the drone hanger, the word to "man the highline station" came across the 1MC. Apparently the Captain felt I was so important he wanted me back ASAP. A runner came to the highline rigging area with a clipboard and asked me for the correct pronunciation of my last name, for what reason I wasn’t told. It soon became obvious because when the bosun’s chair left the Starboard side of the Damato there came "ding ding, ding ding...Carnot Departing".
My division was running the tension line from the main deck and they made sure I had a bumpy ride with a slight dip or two to get my feet wet. When I was out of the chair, the Captain sent for me. He told me when he heard it was me he wasn’t worried about it. I told him in a laughing manner, "thanks a lot Captain". He said "Gunner, if I had to have a man over the side, I would prefer it be someone who was comfortable in the water and wouldn’t panic". He knew I had been a lifeguard in civilian life and while we had been in Malta, successfully completed the Pt/swimming tests for BUD’s training.
For the past several years of my teaching career I have been teaching 7th grade Geography. When we cover the Mediterranean part of Europe, I can tell my students that "I’ve spent some time in the Med Sea" and really mean it.
(click here to see the USS DAMATO's report on Gary's evening)

From: Frank Presfield (FTG3 66-69)
Subject: Hit the Deck!
Great story from Gary Carnot. Here is one that I think a few will remember. We were at refueling detail. I too was on the torpedo deck. All was going normally. All of sudden we heard the engines on the Dash starting up. We all thought this was unusual as no flight OPS were ever conducted while we were alongside another ship, leastwise an oiler. We took our minds off of it and back to our work at hand. BOOM! A tie down must have snapped causing that drone to flip on its side. The blades hit the deck and started flying everywhere. Hit the deck!, someone yelled. Just about that time a piece of rotor came flying at the torpedo deck just where we had all been standing and slammed into the rear of the forward stack. Made a nice dent. Several men could have been killed or critically injured during that incident. I know I laid there stunned for a few moments, just long enough to hear emergency breakaway. One of those can be dangerous also if you don’t act fast.

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