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| U.S.S. Allen M. Sumner DD-692 | ||||
| Sea Stories - Chapter 4 | ||||
From: Maurice Warren
(EN3 66-68)
Subject: Welcome all landlubbers!
In October or early November of 1966 we left Mayport for one of the many visits
to our second home of Key West. After dark, the old man got on the p.a.
system and announced that the Sumner had caught its first Sea Bat of the cruise.
He told where it was being held and that any one that wished to view the Sea Bat
be allowed to see it. He repeated the statement with emphases on
“anyone” be allowed to see it. There was a brand new officer that wanted to
see the Sea Bat. As he bent over to look in the box, someone proceeded to
introduce his rear end to a broom. The young officer was a little upset
and requested that the foolishness cease because he wanted to see the Sea Bat.
He bent over with the same result. I think that he finally caught on. On
the way to Nam in 1967, we were approaching the International Date Line. It
was announced on the P.A. system that as we crossed the Date Line it would show
up on radar because of the phosphorous or some kind of mineral in the water.
All that were interested in watching could report to the Radar shack to watch.
It was in the early hours of the morning. We had several sleepy people on
board the next day. I don’t know if they ever saw the Date Line or not.
From: Paul Smith
(Midshipman 55)
Subject: A Middie Cruise
In the summer of '55 Sumner was at Norfolk, nested with the other DDs of
DESRON 16. To my virgin eyes, the ships looked well-used, if not beat up. Some
were showing patches of rust. Experience tells me that this was probably the
result of one of those long deployments, possibly just returned from the Med. A
good part of the crew had been ordered to schools to make room for the Mids who
were berthed in the forward compartment. This was my first experience with a
Navy flush toilet: a trough with rushing salt water down its length, people
perched on the trough sitting on narrow boards. It was sink or swim. Five junior
officers had been moved to a deck shack, known as "boys' town", where
they lived like cavemen. The mids watched and learned. We were taught that a DD's main armament was not its six 5-inch guns, but its
torpedoes. The one time they were exercised nothing worked and the torpedo
officer caught public hell from the captain who in turn was under the magnifying
glass of the embarked commodore. There was a lot of tension all the time on that
ship. My happiest times were watch standing in the fire rooms and engine rooms.
The men were focused on their jobs, no monkey business, and all the
equipment worked. The most rewarding pastime for the younger members of the crew
was the harassment of the Mids, a constant struggle for supremacy. The cook on
the chow line looked exactly like "Cookie" from the Beetle Bailey
cartoons, hair under his arms, unshaven, etc. His great fun was throwing food on
the mess trays in rough seas in a way that was unsettling for the stomach. He
would add a couple of remarks to clinch the trip to the rail. On the Sumner, I
always enjoyed fueling at sea, even when hauling the highline, because the
oilers and/or the Wisconsin (cruise squadron flag) had a great band aboard. I
was out of the NROTC program from the University of New Mexico ("The Desert
Sailors" literally!) so I had no great musical or cultural attachment
to "Anchors Aweigh" up to then, as I thought a USNA Middie might have.
But when the band on the oiler or the flag played it, it really did
something for me emotionally to the point that I still love that tune and
think it is the best service anthem around.
The bosuns' mates were always yelling about something. Getting the motor
whaleboat in the water was, to my unpracticed eye, a Chinese fire drill. Somehow
the davits never wanted to cooperate. It always took a lot of pulling, yelling,
pushing, bumbling by the boat crew and line handlers, and finally a great
splash. Then imagine this in reverse. One of the few things the gator navy did
well was to get the boats, a lot of boats, in the water and recover them
smartly, I thought. During one refueling, a loud bosun's mate probably saved me
from serious injury. We had finished fueling. I, and others, were tending the
high line, and the order came to let go. I was standing in a bight and if it
hadn't been for a well-directed blast of curses that warned me to jump, I
might have been sleeping with the fishes. I had more respect, and less fear, for
bosuns' mates after that. My gunnery station was first loader, port gun, number
one mount. I never saw a firing exercise because there was no way to see out
anyway, and I was too concentrated on not dropping the 56 pound projectile on my
foot with the deck in motion and the gun breech jumping like a mechanical
bull in a bar. This experience, like the one with the bosuns, gave me a
great deal of respect for the men who did this for a living. At Culebra I was
assigned as 1JV talker on the bridge. I was standing on the port wing
daydreaming about the tropics, my home. There was no one near me and there was
no talk on the circuit. I gazed out to port at the horizon and Culebra when the
guns on number two mount both went off in a port broadside salvo, just under and
forward of where I was standing. What saved my hearing was the 1JV head
set, but I got peppered by pieces of the burning cork wad from the shell case.
As you can guess, everyone on the bridge except me knew those guns were about to
fire. I don't want to think anyone would enjoy a laugh at my expense. The
Wisconsin had target drones and a launcher on her fantail and every now and then
the 40mm guns of the squadron would get a little exercise. Sumner never hit one,
but the story was that the fuses (or the fire control directors) were calibrated
to avoid killing the drones so they could be used time and again. Sumner usually
got the job of fishing the drones out of the sea after a shoot which was given
high priority because COMDESRON 16, embarked on Sumner, was watching as well as,
presumably, the admiral on the Wisconsin. The recoveries had to be a
ship-shape, seamanlike operation. Once the exec took the con to bring Sumner
alongside the drone for the bosuns to bring aboard, covering the exec with
glory. The exec made a smart, seamanlike approach, except that he ran over the
drone and it was never seen again. There was a lot of yelling over the tactical
circuit. Since I was only a third class Middie, I never knew the final
disposition of the case. I mentioned that five junior officers bunked in a
compartment called "boys town". Thinking more about this, I don't
remember if it was on the main deck or on the 0-1 level behind the stacks.
Anyway, it was not connected by a door to the superstructure, so access to the
rest of the ship was out a door to the weather deck and in another. I think the
stewards had given up on trying to straighten out the place, because from the
outside one could see piles of dirty uniforms and other gear on the deck and
rumpled racks. In The Caine Mutiny, this would have been the clipping
shack. Under way, a few off-watch crew members would assemble socially on
the fantail during the dog watches to tell stories, joke, gripe, and best of
all, ridicule the actions of the officers. They took special delight in
telling and retelling the imagined and real screw-ups. The incident of the
exec sinking the drone was a running joke that went on for days. There
was a time when another destroyer missed its turn in the reorientation of
the screen and caused all the destroyers to scatter like quail to avoid
collisions. The bearers of this tale were the members of the bridge watch, of
course. Every man on the fantail could have done a better job at conning the
other destroyer and the finer points of ship handling were discussed for days.
Even the few pale snipes who wandered up to the fantail in the late afternoon's
waning sunlight had an opinion. Any midshipmen present were expected to
remain silent and were not extended familiarity privileges. The gripe that
lasted during the entire cruise was the one about the Navy's excess supply of
WAVE dungarees. These were dungarees that had inset tailored pockets and
straight legs rather than patch pockets with bell bottoms. A sailor's manly self
image was enhanced if he could come on the fantail in patch pocket dungarees,
skivvie shirt with a pack of cigarettes rolled up in one sleeve, and a whitehat
pushed back on his head, to lean casually on a depth charge rack. The
Navy was trying to work down this over inventory of offensive dungarees by
issuing them to unsuspecting sailors, as though they were females, according to
the offended parties. If they were in fact WAVE dungarees, I could not tell. I
wish my memory served me better. That experience was very rewarding and it gave
me an appreciation for what real sailors do. I see modern destroyers and
frigates go through the Panama Canal from time to time and I can´t help but see
the difference between the DD's that saw duty in WWII and today's ships
that seem a model of cleanliness and air conditioned comfort. Though I have
related my brief worms-eye-view memories sprinkled with a little humor, the two
months aboard Sumner, as my first real Navy experience, was a profound part of
my growing up. I got my first taste of life at sea; I saw real,
dedicated professionals at work (and play); and I came to understand what
drove men to committed service of their country. I knew I had
become part of the best service the United States has. That I did not make
a career of the Navy is not a reflection on this great service, but due rather
to the unforeseeable paths life leads us down. If these lines make someone
else think a bit about how lucky they were to be a sailor, I'll be happy.
From: Robert
"Duffy" Duffield (FTG2 64-66)
Subject: Klunkers
In late 1964 the main battery fire control director developed a slight problem
in that it would shift a small amount on it's roller path as the ship would
roll. This generated a rather pronounced "klunk" while underway.
Being next to the Captains sea cabin, this became a top priority for repair
during our 64/65 yard overhaul in Charleston. The yardbirds were unable to
find a problem, so when we went out for sea trials, two mechanical engineers in
white shirts and ties were sent out with us to find the problem. They were
in the barbett of the director with thickness gauges in hand when the ship
started to roll. I had to leave them and go check on something in the
radar room. When I returned about ten minutes later they both were on all
fours over a couple of buckets we kept there to catch small drips of oil.
Although a little green around the gills, they were able to find and fix the
problem and the Captain was again able to catch a few winks in his sea cabin.
From: Carl Shopp (BT1 51-55)
Subject: A helping hand
On our trip around the world we stopped at Aden. The ship was tied up alongside
the other ships of the Squadron at the fueling island. We were about the 4th or
5th ship out. The 4 inch fueling hose was dragged across the stern of the other
ships and into our after fueling trunk. As we were receiving the fuel oil
a connection between ships was leaking drops of oil. Not wanting to get
oil on the water line, I had a native (the local help) tie a bucket on to the
hose and under the leak. We finished fueling and started to have the hose
removed back to the fueling island. The local help went to remove the bucket. He
untied the string and did not hold onto the bucket of fuel oil and it fell into
the water between the ships. The sides of the two ships had to be wiped down
with diesel fuel by some very upset deck hands!
From: Jan Tenhoeve (SFFN 65-67)
Subject: Kenny!
A few of us are in a Jeepney coming back from liberty from a bar in Olongapo
City, Philippines. It's raining like crazy. We're tired, rundown, full of
the local punch and I'm trying to keep my head up and not fall asleep. Merryman
is sitting in back of the driver and he's got a bottle still with him. But he's
quiet, friendly and nothing bad is happening. However, there's a bad
circumstance about to unfold. There's a bunch of Marines on the Jeepney also.
Eventually, the 'leader' of the Marines, a Lance Corporal or Corporal, started
mouthing off and bragging about how the Marines were doing all the work in
Vietnam and faced much more danger etc. etc. I could tell by Merryman's face he
was getting his fill of this. Merryman turned and said something back. Of
course, the Marine Corp. in the jitney didn't like it. More words got
exchanged. Merryman tucked the bottle in his waistband, then grabbed the driver
of the jitney and forced him to stop. We all got off the jitney. The other
Marines in back of their leader didn't really want this fight to happen as they
could sense 'something' about Merryman. The word exchange kept up and Merryman
was face to face with the Jarhead leader. Finally, Merryman lets go a right. I
don't know where the Jarhead caught it, but he went back. And not only him, but
the other Gyrines too. ALL OF THEM. It was just like out of a movie. Or. Maybe,
movies are like 'us'. That ended it right there. The 'other' Marines called for
peace. And got another jitney to ride in. And 'Merryman', Kenny, became my hero
forever!
From: Carl Shopp (BT1 51-55)
Subject: Fishing with the Oil King
One time when we where refueling, I had the sounding holes open in the
Engineering sleeping area and had recently purchased a bamboo spit fly rod while
we were in Japan. It had two tips and one butt end. I had some finish for it,
which I applied, and hung it up to dry using some Japanese paper string. As we
were sounding the tanks( this was under way) the fishing pole handle end was swinging side to side and the string broke and that handle fell into that 2 inch sounding hole. That's no fish
story!!! (Webmasters note: Did you ever get it back out? Carl's response: Nope,
the tank was 20 feet deep and the pole remained there!)
From: Russell "Phil" Phillips
(YNSN 62-64)
Subject: Poor Richard
During the summer of 1963 we were in Hamilton, Bermuda. One evening I had
liberty and decided to go to the base bar. When I arrived there I sat at the bar
and suddenly reached for my hat, because I realized it was still on my
head. I was too late. The bartender clanged the bell and said
"I caught you". I asked "what now", and he said
"I would have to buy the bar a round for getting caught sitting down with
my hat on at the bar". "Oh darn" I said, "I've only
got $3 on me" and that would not be enough because there were 7 or 8 guys
at the bar. He said "that's okay, this is poor Richard Night and all drinks
are five cents each". Well, I was so overjoyed I ran back to the ship
to tell the other guys. You can imagine what a party we all had that night. I
bought several other drinks and never spent over $3. This was one of the most
memorable nights I had aboard the Sumner!
From: Jim Georgantas (RD3 66-69)
Subject: Admiral's Inspection
While we were in Mayport, we were subjected to an Admirals Inspection. The ship
was a maelstrom of activity, chipping and scraping every thing that didn't move
to get ready. I was in charge of getting the after crews shower ready. My team
and I chipped all the layers of paint off the decks and took all the pipes down
to bare brass and shined them up till you could see your face in them. We
re-furbished the terrazzo deck and painted the shower decks with non-skid green
paint. We were almost finished when I got the wild idea to do a little more. We
got some haze gray paint, battle ship gray, electric blue and fire engine red
paint. We painted racing stripes on the bulk heads, stars on the deck at the
stanchions that held up the sinks. No one had bothered to inspect the
compartment until the night before the Admiral was due on board. When the
Division Officer and the Chief came in they went ballistic. This was not
military at all!!!! My punishment was to present the space to the Admiral
instead of a Seaman . That way I would incur his wrath directly. The Admiral
came on board with all the pomp and circumstance of a visiting head of state,
complete with funny tri-cornered hat and black cape with red lining. He was
extremely rough in his inspection, if your shoes weren't as shiny as his you got
gigged. I was very apprehensive after the personnel inspection. What was he
going to do after he saw what I did to the showers ??!! He came into the shower
area with his cape flowing around him followed by Captain Beaman, the XO, the
Division Officer and the Chief. He stomped thru the shaving area, went into the
shower area glared at me and said "it looks great, I wish all my ships
looked like this" and stormed out. The Captain smiled and said "good
job sailor", and followed the Admiral out. The XO just smiled, but the look
on the Division Officers face and the look on the Chiefs face was just
priceless!
From: Jim Georgeantas (RD3 66-69)
Subject: High Lining for a Movie
After having Capt Beaman as our leader it was a different story with the new
Captain. We left Mayport for the Med. cruise, and did some hefty damage to other
ships as we pulled out. During the trip over the Captain wanted a movie, even
though we were in high seas. I was in charge of the aft line handlers. We were
tossing and rolling with waves breaking over the main deck. I had my back to the
sea watching for the signals to heave or relax, I think it was Dan Coli that was
giving me the signals from the O2 level.. This huge wave came up and washed me
of my feet, I lost my grip on the rail and got washed aft. Some of the line
handlers tried to grab me but I yelled at them not to let go of the line .It was
better for one to get washed over board then a bunch of us. The only thing that
stopped me from going over was the big huge stanchion that I ended up straddling
. My voice went up two octaves for a couple of hours! That was the scariest
thing to ever happen to me in the Navy!
From: Vins Holbrook (SM2c 44-45)
Subject: No Liberty!
We had just passed through the Golden Gate on our way to
the Navy Yard at Hunters Point. We had been badly disabled from the Kamikaze
hit at Lingayen Gulf and while we made the trip back under our own power it had
been a long and trying journey. It had been several months since we had
enjoyed any liberty, indeed, after the action at Ormoc Bay and the tragedy at
Lingayen Gulf, many of us had wondered if we would ever see the States again!
The anticipation and excitement of our return and liberty tonight was
understandably high. Strangely though, while we had passed under the
bridge and with San Francisco looming off to starboard, no word had come down as
to what the liberty arrangements were going to be. Everyone was on edge,
some had already gotten out their dress blues and clean hats in preparation.
The tugboat had us in tow as we slowly approached the dock at Hunters Point and
the Special Sea Detail for mooring were at their stations. Still, no word
about liberty. Finally, after we were secure to the dock and all of the
hook-ups had been made, the announcement came over the loudspeaker,
"Attention all hands, attention all hands, there will be no liberty
tonight, repeat, there will be no liberty tonight". We couldn't
believe it! An audible groan passed through the ship. A number of
men were already dressed for going ashore. We began to gather in small
groups and give voice to our disappointment. Representations were made to
the First Lieutenant and then to the Exec. What was the Captain trying to
do? We seethed and we raged! It was now almost 1700 hours and, apparently,
for whatever reason, the Captain had made up his mind. Then, at
about 1800 hours the loudspeaker turned on and we heard the Executive Officer
announce that there had been a change and that there would be liberty tonight,
on a one third basis, but the liberty section must first undergo a seabag
inspection before they would be allowed to leave the ship! He then
referred us to the Bluejacket's Manual where we would find listed all of the
items that must be included in a full seabag and until such time as each
man intending to go ashore on liberty could demonstrate possession of a full
seabag he would remain on board! As you might expect, there were mighty
few of the one third of the crew eligible for liberty that could produce a
complete seabag of gear. In fact, I don't remember a single person going
ashore that night. Presumably, this "full seabag requirement"
was devised in haste as a means of preventing anyone from going ashore on that
particular night and still leave the Captain able to deny that he had actually
forbidden liberty to the crew. The requirement was silently dropped the
next day and one third of us departed on 15 days leave and one third of us went
ashore on liberty. I have often speculated on the "real" reason
for denying us liberty that night and I have come to the conclusion that it was
probably a ploy to divert our attention from something else. The
"something else" being the Captains decision to grant liberty and
leave on a one third basis, that is, having two thirds of the available manpower
on board at all times during our stay in the Navy Yard. All of the other
ships at Hunters Point at the time were granting leave and liberty on a 50 per
cent basis, only one half of the officers and crew being required to remain on
board. If this was indeed the case, it was a successful ploy in that when
we finally were allowed leave and liberty we were grateful to get it! This
incident, outrageous as it was, was only one of many similar occurrences typical
of life aboard the Allen M. Sumner during those early years.
From: Phil Arneson (LTJG(SC)
43-45)
Subject: The Great Typhoon of 1944
Stores has asked about recollections of
Typhoon experience which does not appear, noted in the War Diaries or Action
reports of either Capt. Sampson or DESRON60. Sometime in the period October to
November 1944, while we were operating with Task Force 38 off Leyte, we
encountered a Typhoon, which claimed the USS Spence and at least one other 2100
(Fletcher) DD. They capsized and
were lost with almost all hands, as I recall. During that event, our ship was in the
screen of a fast (Essex Class) carrier task force.
Because we operated at a speed of 21 Knots Standard and 25 Knots Flank
speeds, our consumption of bunker fuel was enormous, necessitating refueling
frequently. These were underway
evolutions alongside a "big boys", i.e. A Carrier, Cruiser or
Battleship and occasionally a task force tanker. To expedite refueling, we would pump ballast from the fuel
oil tanks immediately before going along side. I recall, the task force was in the
process of such refueling when we encountered rapidly deteriorating weather,
which turned out to be a full-blown tropical typhoon. The AMS had completed refueling. We were all "buttoned up", thanks to the
seamanship of our Captain. The ship
was also at special sea detail, so again, I had a "cat birds " view.
My station was on the Bridge as Captain's "Talker"; i.e. I
manned a sound powered telephone and followed the Captain to relay his orders to
the helmsman and engine room. It is impossible to adequately describe
the enormity of the seas in a typhoon. The
inclinometer on the bridge was calibrated to show a roll of 45 degrees.
Many times during the hours we were tossed about like a cork, the ship
rolled right up to the stops on the inclinometer and just hung there. Standing
up without being tossed around was a problem.
I remember attaching the strap on my life jacket to a stanchion on a
bulkhead because at times you could stand equally either on the bulkhead or on
the deck. In the troughs between the
enormous waves, you would lose sight of a 55,000-Ton carrier just 6000 yards
abeam. I remember seeing one such
carrier with its flight deck peeled back like a top on a tin can.
I know we were engaged with the storm for many hours but now it seems
like it happened very quickly. At some point in time, we lost the
communications continuity and radar returns necessary to keep station.
The Captain radioed the Guide he was maneuvering independently in order
to "save his ship". He
expressed concern to me we would take water down a stack and lose power.
I can’t ever impress anyone enough of the incredible seamanship of
Captain Sampson. Frankly, looking
back on it, I was never really frightened, as I should have been, because the
Captain commanded the ship and his men as if this was anything but a
life-threatening occurrence. The
realization of how bad weather at sea can be came when we received reports of
the loss of the other DDs. We
learned later they had just pumped ballast preparatory to refueling and got
caught by the storm with a high center of gravity. The storm completely disabled Mount 1 of
our twin 5 inch. The whole gun
mount was dislodged. Out SC radar
screen was lost. We had a major
repair overhaul with a Tender after we got back to Leyte.
There was extensive damage to the motor whaleboat and much of he
superstructure, especially on the forecastle. Unless you've been in one, a typhoon
can't be adequately described. We
were lucky to have a North Atlantic 4 Piper Skipper who was a superb seaman and
a Norwegian to boot!
From: Phil Arneson (LTJG(SC)
43-45)
Subject: AMS's first enemy contact?
I have carefully read the "War
Diary" of the ship that was apparently ordered by Capt. Sampson and
executed by the XO.
I hope I am not telling stories out of school, so to speak, and I know
the Statutes of Limitation imposed by the "Grim Reaper", if not the
law, have expired, so I must set the record straight.
I can attest the earliest contact with the realities of war came early in
the ship's life. It was not reported in the "War Diary" for reasons
probably relevant to the time of its being written. On or about 14 February
1944, we had just taken on a full load of ammunition and were conducting sea
trials in the Long Island Sound off Groton Connecticut.
We had aboard some builder's reps in addition to a Comdr. Wellings
DESRON60. One
of the night exercises, not mentioned in the "War Diary", was a night
radar controlled 36" search light illumination of target (I believe a land
based one) to be conducted by AMS, Cooper and Moale. The exercise called for the
ships to be in column with AMS in the van and guide.
My station was in the CIC room as watch officer as we proceeded toward a
radar sea buoy, which was to mark our point of departure for the run into the
exercise area.
According to the Operation Order, we would proceed such as to reach the
buoy at approximately 2100 hours.
From: Paul Delasco (IC2 61-63)
Subject: SAN DIEGO—ADVENTURES IN THE
MOTHBALL FLEET
After I completed Boot Camp at Great Lakes in late August 1960, I was
assigned to IC “A” School at Great Lakes. But the school did not start until
late March 1961. So the Navy in its infinite wisdom sent me to winter over in
sunny San Diego. My orders were to report to PAC-RES-FLT San Diego, after a
week’s leave back home in Lenox, MA. Upon
arrival, I reported aboard the decommissioned sub tender USS Aegir AS-23. The
ship served as a berthing vessel, mess hall, machine and electric shops. Because
I was an IC striker I was assigned to the electric shop with three other IC
strikers who would be going back to school at Great Lakes in March.
After three days of orientation classes on the mission of the Reserve
Fleet, we were welcomed to the electric shop by W4 Warrant Officer Dale. Mr.
Dale encouraged us to check out our Fireman courses which we did. The next
February we all passed our Fireman test, so when we arrived back at school at
Great Lakes we were “Fleet Fireman”- hot stuff among all the new kids out of
Boot Camp. The personnel in the
mothball fleet were an interesting mix. There were salty old Warrant Officers
and Chiefs, new kids out of Boot Camp and guys in transit, most putting
in their time until being discharged. The
work in the electric shop was interesting. All the ships had dehumidifying
machines installed in them. The D.H. machines had two towers about one foot by
three feet filled with silica gel pellets and a heater element. A fan would
force air through one tower which would then be blown through the ship’s fire
main and distributed throughout the ship. After twenty minutes the first tower
would be shut down. The heat element would come on to dry out the silica gel
while air was blown to the other tower. Because these D.H. machines ran all the
time, they required a lot of maintenance.
Most of it was rewinding the fan blower motors when they burned out. As a
result the electric shop was equipped with a coil winding machine, a dip tank
and a baking oven. The Aegir did
not have a working laundry. We had to use the Navy exchange laundry. A clever
guy in the shop had made a washing machine out of a garbage can and plunger
hooked up to the coil winding machine. For a dryer we used the coil baking oven.
The first time I used the oven, I toasted a set of whites……set the temp too
high! The other big job for the
electric shop was installing and maintaining floatation alarms.
Sensors were located in the bilge of a ship, then through low voltage
wiring, connected to a relay and transformer mounted on a 2x4 ft. plywood panel
on the side or end of the ship nearest the pier.
Also mounted on the panel were a siren and red light. There
were two types of sensors. The old type, which we were replacing, were simply
two electrodes in a block of Bakelite. Sea water would short the two electrodes
out completing the circuit and setting off the alarm. The new type, had a reed
relay inside the top of a ten inch long tube. Around the tube was a float with a
magnet in it. The rising sea water would push the magnetic float up the tube
closing the contacts in the reed relay, setting off the alarm.
The alarms had to be tested on a routine basis. This meant climbing down
several decks to lift the float on the new type or short out the electrodes on
the old type. Rumor had it, that if they could see the old type sensor several
decks down in the bilge, some guys would whiz on the sensor to test it and save
climbing down! The new sensors eliminated this problem. The
San Diego mothball fleet had just about every kind of ship the Navy had in 1960.
The only exception being Submarines and Battleships. Our work details out of the
electric shop got me on board just about every ship. As a new sailor, it was
memorable. I remember one ship
in particular, the USS Philippine Sea CV-47 that had arrived in early ’59. It
took up the whole side of one pier. While on a working party aboard the carrier,
in a storage compartment, we found a supply of boxed new ‘Red Ball’ Brand
rubbers, the kind you wear on your feet. I found a pair of size 12 and wore them
back to the Aegir.
They sure came in handy when we went back to Great Lakes in March. Another
assignment we had was being part of a National Emergency Recommissioning Team.
We would be part of a team to assist reservists who would recommission
certain ships for active duty.
I was assigned to the USS Toledo CA-133 team.
I was impressed with all the fire power she had.
Nine 8-inch, twelve 5-inch guns and fifty two 40-mm AA, a real fighting
ship. Another ship we worked on
was the hospital ship USS Repose.
I understand she was recommissioned for service in the Viet Nam war. We
also worked on two DE’s, the USS Rolf DE-362 and USS Lawrence C. Taylor DE-415
along with an ARD floating dry dock which were being sold to the Peruvian Navy.
We worked with the Peruvian sailors to get the ships ready for sea. The sailors
were real low tech. To see if a circuit was live, they just used the back of
their hand! If
they got a shock the circuit was live! As I remember, we gave them several of
our Wiggens hand held voltage testers. Despite the language barrier we all got
along Ok and got the job done on time. The
most memorable ship to me was the USS Seaman DD-791, a Gearing class destroyer.
It was launched 5-20-46 but never commissioned, assigned to the mothball
fleet in San Diego, and never completed. The screws were mounted on the fantail.
The boilers and turbines had no asbestos lagging
and other machinery spaces were incomplete. It was a very forlorn sight
and was sold for scrap 9-12-61. We
were assigned to pier watches for watch duty.
There were eight long piers.
Each had a Petty Officer assigned to a guard house at the head of the
pier to control access.
A non-rated sailor was assigned to patrol the pier on a four hour watch.
We carried an M-1 rifle and a three shot clip on our web belts. We were to
discourage private small craft from approaching the ships and check for flooding
alarms. It was very boring and some times a little spooky on the mid watch. I
used to memorize the name and number of the ships to pass the time.
I had mid watch on Christmas night 1960, my first Christmas away from
home, and I was so homesick. A thick fog had settled in. All the piers had a
couple of carousels which held several fire extinguishers.
I took out one of the extinguishers, pointed it into the fog, and made a
small snow pile on the pier!
It made me feel at home to see some snow. From
what I understand there is no longer a mothball fleet in San Diego. The only
ones left I know of are Philadelphia, PA., and Bremerton, WA. Liberty
in San Diego was Ok. I visited the San Diego Zoo and became a member of the San
Diego Model Railroad Club. It will be interesting to see how much the area has
changed in forty years!
Hope to see you there in June.
From: Colin Benporath (CPO aboard
the HMAS Hobart D-39)
Subject: Aussie to the rescue!
I was onboard Hobart in 67 when we operated with you and in fact I spent a night
aboard Sumner. I was transferred across about 1800 one evening to help repair
your ECM equipment. I worked in Upper ECM and CIC until about 0300 and was then
given a bunk in the After Seaman's mess (Although I was a Chief) when they
kicked someone out early for their 0400 watch. We then closed up for a shoot and
I continued to work on your ECM until I was highline transferred back to Hobart
via a tanker. Prior to my Night on the Sumner there was an instance when someone
on Sumner called Hobart with the transmission “ Royal Purple (Hobart’s
callsign), we hold figure on the beach, on horseback, what do you make of it?”
The instant reply from Hobart was “Viet Cong Paul Revere”, which apparently
“Broke up“ all those who heard it in the CIC on Sumner. Also, when I
transferred across for my night on the Sumner, I created a bit of a stir,
because as you no doubt remember, we used to get a “Beer Ration” most days,
and on the day in question as I was transferred at “Chow Time”, I brought my
Beer with me and sat in the mess and drank my beer with the meal.
From: Gene Gardner (LTJG 59-61)
Subject: What is a Snipe?
For some unknown reason members of the Engineering Department are called Snipes
just as shipyard workers are called Yard-Birds. The head of the Department
is the Chief Snipe and all Engineering Spaces are Snipe Lockers. Snipes are a
strange bunch. They are the most unmilitary group aboard, always in dirty,
oil covered dungarees. They have hair 5 inches long, carry a wrench in one
hand and a rag in the other, and are never without a flashlight in their back
pocket. (Guess they don't trust their own generators.) They have a habit
of not getting the word, and not doing much about it when they do. They
are a constant source of irritation to the Exec as they insist on coming up for
air when someone important passes by. During the summer of 1960 we were playing
ASW games with another tin can and a sub. To simulate depth charges we
were throwing hand grenades. Someone dropped one after pulling the pin, so
it was kicked over the side. I recall it went clinking along the
side as the ship moved, and it finally went off when it was near the engine
room. There was no damage, but the noise did get through the hull very
well. Snipes came up out of their hole faster than Yard-Bird Shop 42
leaving the ship at quitting time! The Snipe Department is the
largest on the ship. They have 1/4 of the men aboard, 1/3 of the space
available, and spend 9/10 of the money. No one seems to know where the
money goes. The yard helps them, the tender helps them, supply helps them,
and the ship gives them cash. And now we are threatened by a bill from the Sumner Power & Light Co.! If by chance you encounter a man going to or
from the Mess Hall who looks like the old man from the sea, be kind to him.
He is not shipwrecked, he is a Snipe.
From: Jan Tenhoeve (SFFN 65-67)
Subject: Yellow submarine, ahh I mean destroyer!
Did you know that "I" - yours truly - am the only crewmember of the
DD692 that actually painted half the side of that darn ship bright yellow
chromate? Well it was 1965 and we weren't too far from Naples, Italy. Sumner's
crew looked forward to liberty. After all, it had been a long trip and Naples
would be the first foreign port I'd ever seen. So, it was Sunday morning and my
job that day was to paint fittings and such that were designated to be painted
yellow chromate. Simple. Right? Well. I was tired from the 12-4 during the
previous night up on the bridge and didn't realize that I was carrying the
gallon of yellow paint under my arm sideways and not upright. I was sure the lid
was on tight. That was until the ship rolled as I was stepping on to the main
deck from mid-ships. You guessed right! The paint poured out and onto the main
deck and the waves alongside took hold of the paint and spread it the length of
the ship to the fantail. Panic! I was new onboard the Sumner and if ever I felt
like jumping over the side, believe me, it was now. Fellow crewmembers in First
Division let me know of their unhappiness about what had happened. I can still
hear it - "Darn it! -- We'll be cleaning this crap for days instead of
having liberty in Naples! --- You! Did this!!" I wanted to die.
Period. And the "News" was spreading rapidly throughout the ship. But
by some miracle along with many others helping out and the waves washing the
side continuously, the yellow disappeared. Gone. Eventually, that is. By days
end, First Division's anger toward me had changed to teasing and laughing about
it. It was okay. I would live. I actually would. And we all get liberty. It is -
what we live for. A few days later a crewmember from the USS Bigelow and I were
having a beer in Naples. He says, "the side of your ship looked kinda
funny. What happened?" "Don't know. I'll check into it", I
replied.
From: Clint Carter (GM3 46-47)
Subject: Having fun with the XO
After we lost the USS Johnston at Leyte, I was reassigned, by the Bureau, to the
YOG-63, she was almost finished in Portland, Oregon in early 1945. I was told my
duty on the YOG was for rest and recuperation for a year. All but about 3 weeks
were spent in Kwajalein receiving our high octane stuff from giant tankers and the several concrete
tankers in the lagoon. It was lousy duty. Being a GM my main battery was a Colt 45. We had a
20mm on our bow with no ammo. A spark would have sent us all to Davey Jones Locker and probably cleaned the
island besides. My main duty was playing cribbage. I'm surprised I still like the game. Anyway, I was
keeping tabs when my year would be up. I had attempted to get transferred many times and found out you can't beat City Hall. To the
exact day of my year on the YOG, I looked across the lagoon and low and behold there was a destroyer. I picked up a ride to the Sumner and
asked to see the XO. I cooled my heels for some two hours waiting to see him. Finally, he sent for me. I told him who I was, what duties I had. Without
much ado, he informed me that Gunners Mates were in surplus (I'm sure that was correct, the war was over and every ship was
overstaffed) No way in Gods Green Earth that I could be used. Told me to return where I came
from and bade me goodbye. As I was leaving the Officer of the Deck asked me some questions about
who I was and what I was doing on board. On telling him my sad story, he confirmed what the XO had said and then said,
"Did I hear you say you were a survivor of the Johnston DD-557". He said that was odd, that the skipper had
just been talking about the Johnston in the ward room. He said hold on, the skipper may wish to talk with you. Come to find out, talking with Commander
Howard , he and my Captain were both in the same class at Annapolis. After we fought the war for awhile, he asked what I was doing on board the Sumner. I
repeated my wish and also told him that I had talked with the Exec, but no way
could I come aboard. His neck swelled up, eyes bulged out and he summoned the XO to his quarters. As near as I can remember the conversation between
Capt. Howard and the XO was, "We have a colored boy (Mess Boy) in the brig, transfer that no good sob to the
YOG", and put me on the duty rooster. Then the XO's neck swelled up and his eyes
budged out. I was in hot water from then on with the XO. The Sumner was at it's home port, San Diego after returning to the
states from the A bomb test. Once again I had a little trouble with the XO. I was to be married in September, just 10 days away, at Portland,
Oregon. The XO did not wish me to have a leave, that was promised earlier. In a roundabout sort of way, I told the gunnery officer that the SOB had
cancelled my leave, He had a talk with the jerk and finally let me go. This was my first chargeable leave that I had ever had. I was told to report to
Bremerton, WA as she was to be in dry dock for some 60 days for a refit, 30 days later I checked in and was told that she had been delayed for 30
days before dry dock. Once again I approached the XO for more leave and no
question this time, I was gone. Reported back this time in Bremerton, she was in dry dock, and as I went aboard, the duty person was not known to me. I
asked who and where were the guys that I knew. He informed me that they had been discharged. I knew that most had as much time left in their hitch as I
did. I was told that an ALNAV had come that informed that my rate, married, with less that 1 year to serve could ask for early release. I went to see
the XO and was told I was on leave at the time the bulletin came out and it had expired. Tuff
s...., you are going to Japan in about 10 days for 9 months. I asked to see the ALNAV and was told it had been destroyed. This time my neck
swelled up and my eyes bulged out. I didn't know what to do. I went ashore and went to see the Chaplin. Told him my story and he informed me that it was
"BS", that all bureau notices are posted and saved forever. He took me to the
bulletin board and there she was. In black and white, it stated " Any man on leave must be notified of the offer and his personal signature of rejection"
The Chaplin read it with me. His shoulders heaved, and said "Gunner I can't do a thing for you. Since the war has been over I have no power to step in on
your problems". It's all political now. Do you know some one in the government. The only person that I could think of was the mayor in my small
Texas town. I called my Dad on the phone, explained my problem and asked him if he thought
L. E. Newton could help me? I was at a pay phone. Dad asked me the phone number and requested I stay for and hour or so, next to that
phone. I'm sure it wasn't more that 5 minutes the phone rang, I answered, it was
my Dad, L. E. Newton wanted to talk with me. He said that my Dad had told him my problems and he wanted to hear it straight from me. I repeated the sad
story again. He asked me to stay by that phone again for an unlimited time. Once again, not more that 15 minutes passed and the phone rang again.
L. E. Newton , the little country town Mayor, informed me that the had just talked
with Sam Rayborn, Speaker of the House, his old college buddy. He was sure something could be done. Sam, wished to see the Bulletin himself, and I
would be notified. Go back to your ship. I was walking down the avenue and too my surprise, over the PA system, my name, rate and serial number. "Report
to the administration building, at once." I figured right there that I was in deep
s.... trouble. In exactly 15 minutes, I was mustered out, and discharged. Escorted back to the Sumner by SP'S. Pack my bags and get the hell gone.
While I was packing the word was passed that the XO was wanted in the wardroom. I have always had the feeling that something bad happened to the
XO. He just might have missed a pay grade. Anyway, I'm sure he will always remember not to screw around with a Texan,
or Roy Rogers!
From: Bill Wunderlin (EM2 52-55)
Subject: The CE Piers 500
We had just completed our yard period in Boston and were returning to Norfolk. As we started into Hampton Road we ( the crew not on watch) were a
little surprised as to the speed we were maintaining. Of course, as is custom, we rendered Honors to all passing MOW, but it seemed our speed
continued (maybe somewhat reduced, but STILL!) We eventually made our turn into the CE Piers for docking and cleaned a few scubbers off the portside in
the process. The comment at the time was it was like coming in for a pit-stop at Indianapolis! The Ship Fitters were given an immediate
opportunity to show what their repair capabilities were replacing them!
From: Bill Wunderlin (EM2 52-55)
Subject: Our shipmate - Rube Goldberg
R.L.Street, was my CPO while I served aboard this wonderful ship ( at the time, I couldn't wait to get off of her). He was the CPO everyone of us
remember as "what a CPO should be"!!. We were preparing for a cruise (as the SUMNER was always doing!). I went down to the Mess Hall after Taps to write
a letter to my wife, (still is after 48 years)! We were steaming Auxiliary with the "load" in the after engine room when the lights suddenly started
flashing, along with the ventilation systems cutting in and out.. since I was also "Duty Electrician" I headed back to the after engine room, as I
came down the outboard ladder I was greeted by battle lanterns and "Smoke" coming from a rheostat on the electrical board. I sent the Messenger to
arouse Chief Street and I went back to the compartment to arouse the "mates" who were on board. As I got to the ladder on the slippery deck of the
fantail, my feet slipped out from under me, landing me squarely on my butt!!! did it hurt? you bet! (Years following an X-Ray showed I had really
injured my Coxsus Bone in that fall!) Emergency generators were lit off until the load could be shifted to the generator in the forward engine room.
A new, replacement board, wasn't available from stores so "Chief" went to a Tender, after "cutting" out the section of the board that had become
"carbonized" and had them remanufacture a new section of the rheostat! It was installed, and even served us during the Korean Conflict, and I would
venture to say, someone taking the switchboard apart after decommissioning, said to himself " How in the hell did this Rube Goldberg ever get in here"?
I had the pleasure of meeting "my Chief" at one of our conventions and let me tell you, did that bring back memories!!
From: Richard Renihan (YN3 60-61)
Subject: The Arabian Nights
I joined the Sumner for the winter, 6 month Med cruise in Oct 1960. After leaving
Mayport, two of the new guys got very sea sick, there was concern they might not make it to Rota, Spain our first port of call. But by the time
we got there they had gotten their sea legs and did wonderfully. I was a '"deck ape" and didn't care for that and transferred to the engineering
office, where I served under LTJG Philip Painter (a mustang), who was fondly called the "snake" due to his ability to go down the ladder in engineering
and check out the area and leave before anyone knew he was there. We entered the Suez Canal with Russian Mig's buzzing us from their Egyptian Air base.
This did not give a person a good feeling. After leaving the Canal, we tied up to the ship we were relieving, which was an interesting experience, as the
ship was blaring Arabic music and it looked like the ship had been taken over by the Arabs. Everyone was dressed in turbans, robes and carrying swords.
Upon tying up, they proceed to carry the wooden coffin, which had been secured to their forecastle, with a very small sailor lying with his hands crossed,
over the gangplank and deposited it on our forecastle. This really blew our minds. While patrolling the Red Sea we encountered a Polish (then Russian)
ship which ignored our requests as to what they were carrying. Our Gunners Mate was working on the 5 inch mounts and "accidentally" pointed them at the
ship, which then did respond to our request and also filed a protest which we later heard about. Around Christmas we had refueled in Aden and were headed
for Djibouti, French Somaliland when we were told that the leader of the country
was overthrown. We wanted our Christmas mail and headed there and figured the worst. We were at full alert and were greeted by a patrol boat with
armed sailors with black hoods. They escorted us into the harbor without incident. Things calmed down and some guys enjoyed the visit. One sailor
was on R&R and was resting in bed and looked at the ceiling and noticed that
the small lights were twinkling and then it dawned on him that the house had no roof and he was looking at the sky. We visited the only ship painted
white in the US Navy while in the Persian Gulf. It got so hot there they had to do something to keep the sun from baking the ship. Guys slept on the deck
as the ship was to hot to sleep in. We were later plane guarding for the Saratoga and all at
once she stopped dead in the water. There was an explosion in the engine compartment and if I recall, a sailor died and several were injured. They
worked on getting everything back to working order. We were directly in front of her and when they started moving (at night) and neglected to tell
us. Luckily the Fan Tail sentry was alert and noticed that the ships outline was getting bigger. This was a close call, and we got out of there quickly.
After the Med cruise, we went to the Charleston Shipyards in Charleston, South Carolina for a FRAM modification. At that time and for quite a while
after, they could not find a helo that could land on the pitching deck. After FRAM I was transferred to the Perry DD844 to finish my tour.
From: Mel Hutt (FN 47-49)
Subject: Tragic memory
I was viewing the Web site a few minutes ago. I noticed the men who went overboard on June 27th, 1947. I remember that morning as
if it was yesterday. I knew both of these men and spent several liberties with S1 McClellen,
a good friend and I felt his loss personally. Overstreet I knew, but not as well. The afterdeck near the rear mount had been painted and the quarters
gathering that morning was rather crowded. The men that went in were on the other side of the ship at quarters when it happen. A couple of my other friends were stopped from going overboard by being
grabbed by nearby shipmates and some were rescued. We were not to many miles from land when it happened. The land swells were
prevalent. I remember having to tell his girl friend about it. I came aboard the Sumner after we had decommissioned the USS Sylvania in
Seattle, Washington. I enjoyed the liberty in both Bremerton and Seattle and several visits with our First class
Electrician that I served under. I was a 'sparky' striker before I became the Log Room Yeoman. The memory of our visit to Australia, the
Philippines. I still have my Shellback certificate.
From: Tom Brown (GMG2 66-67)
Subject: These Boots!
When we were in Hong Kong, I decided to get some custom made cowboy boots, not knowing that the quality is not quite up to
Justin's, I stopped at a street shop and ordered my prize. When I got them, I couldn't wait to try
them on for real, well they were sure pretty, black with red and turquoise eagles, also i think some
white, but unlike Justin boots, my stovepipes sagged BAAD! so that it wasn't a complete loss
I wore them for G.Q. when we were shooting, just for morale. I willed them to my striker "GUS" ADDISON when I left the ship. I wonder what ever became
of those boots. I wonder if anyone remembers them?
From: Ed Izzi (BT2 66-69)
Subject: Toast of the Town
When we were in Venice, Italy I had Shore Patrol with another shipmate for 5 days or so. One afternoon we walked into Henry's and Ed Sullivan,
his wife and manager were in there .. no sailors were bothering them. That night they ate in the La Plazs de
San Marco .. and all the sailors were around them. Me and the other SP started to get them away,
Mrs. Sullivan told us to leave the sailors alone that Ed enjoys it. We did .. he signed autographs.. and talked to all.
Later on his Sunday show, I remember my mom writing and telling me that Ed
Sullivan said he met members of the crew of the AMS and wished us luck.
From: Dan Coli (SN 66-69)
Subject: The sniper
While on gun fire support off the coast of South Vietnam we provided support to the Marines ashore.
Late one evening they called us that they were under fire by a sniper and wanted our assistance.
We made our way up an inlet of some sort, passing little sampans with one light
shining that was hooked up to a car battery. We made our way in very slowly, 2-3 knots. The
Marines gave us the coordinates and we fired one round from Mount 51 and then backed out. One round fired, one less sniper!
From: Fred Hambrecht (USS Moale FTC 56-66)
Subject: Sister Ships
I was a crew member of the Moale DD-693. While on a Mediterranean cruise we
"Med Moored" alongside Sumner. It seems the Chief Boatswain Mates on Moale and Sumner had a long running competition.
We had just bested Sumner on an inspection conducted by Admiral "Cat" Brown. The point was further jammed home when Moale's
Chief Boatswain had rat guards placed between the Moale and the Sumner!
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