Sunday in hell, p.95
Sunday in Hell, page 95
At 0145 the destroyer Case, equipped with the emerging British-invented, anti-submarine detection device, nicknamed ASDIC for its inventors, the Anti-Submarine Detection Investigation Committee, early SONAR (SOund Navigation And Ranging) to the Americans, began “echo-ranging,” searching ahead of the formation for the presence of submarines. The device, mounted on the hull, on or near the keel of the destroyer, sent out electronic pulses in a rather narrow, fixed cone of approximately 16 degrees. The electronic pulses bounced off a potential intruder’s steel hull within the cone of search, and if a “target” was detected the time lag for the signal to return as an “echo” in the receiver and headset of the operator, provided approximate range and bearing to the target.
Additional course changes, with speed holding 17 knots, kept the formation heading generally east into the Strait of Juan de Fuca, when at 0341 hours the watch sighted Cape Flattery Light 10 degrees off the starboard bow, approximately 21 miles. The task force was coming toward the approximate 14-mile-wide strait from the northwest, and at 0400, at a speed of 17 knots, commenced maneuvering on various courses preparing to enter the strait. Admiral Anderson was bringing the task force into the strait with a plan used in anti-submarine operations in the Atlantic, should the presence of submarines inside the strait be detected. On entry in the Strait of Juan de Fuca, Puget Sound Navy Yard was approximately 180 miles distant.
The signal from Case to Maryland arrived at 0455. “Enemy submarines present.” While the technology was new; and perhaps the operator on board Case was new, inexperienced, or was receiving an erroneous reading, the task force commander, as prearranged, signaled for the destroyers to begin dropping precautionary depth charges according to Plan No. 3. The charges began exploding at 0504 and continued until 0515 hours. The precautionary counterattack was intended to either sink any undersea intruders, or cause them to give the formation wide berth. In the meantime, task force speed would take the seven ships out of range.
Additional course changes followed the depth charges as the task force proceeded through Puget Sound. At 0737 the Tennessee catapulted an OS2U-2 Kingfisher on inner air patrol, and at 0813 Maryland catapulted their first Kingfisher that morning, for intermediate air patrol. At 1000 hours Maryland catapulted a second scout plane, and five minutes later the destroyers began one last time, dropping precautionary depth charges according to plan, with Case dropping her one charge, set to explode at a depth of 200 feet. After each aircraft launch and release of precautionary depth charges, the formation varied courses and speeds. At 1145, Case fell into the Number 2 position in the column with the destroyer Gilmer taking the lead position as column guide, 1,000 yards ahead. The two battleships and three other destroyers commenced following the motions of Gilmer as she swept the channel.
Aboard Tennessee, Bob Border and the crew heard the explosions, and knew depth charges were being dropped. For Bob, it was the last, anti-submarine warfare - or training - he would ever witness or participate in, aboard Tennessee, the ship on which he had served since graduating from the Naval Academy with his brother, Karl, on 1 June 1939.
At noon Tennessee was maneuvering at various courses and speeds to conform to the channel leading to Puget Sound Navy Yard, and at 1254, harbor pilot, Captain C. Christenson came aboard and took the conn to bring the ship into the Yard. At 1357 hours, Tennessee anchored in the Puget Sound Navy Yard, to “swing the ship,” in order to go alongside a berth, while Maryland proceeded toward the anchorage in Port Orchard Inlet. Three minutes later the tugs Mahopeg and Taknuck came alongside Tennessee, followed at 1418 by unamed tug 132, to bring the battleship into the dock. At 1456 hours, the Officer of the Deck, Lieutenant Arthur L. Benedict, Jr., logged the Tennessee, “Moored port side to dock 6C, Puget Sound Navy Yard, Bremerton, Washington.” With 7 December now more than three weeks past, war for her and her crew, was suspended.23
After Bob Border’s ship anchored in the Yard where he and his family had twice lived in years past, and where he had met Joey little more than a year ago, the wait began for orders for Pensacola Naval Air Station and Naval aviator training. When the day for his departure does arrive, he will gather his personal belongings, pack his sea bag, render his last hand salutes to the Officer of the Deck and the colors flying on Tennessee’s stern, say goodbye to a ship that has been his home away from home for almost two and a half years, and walk down her gangway for the last time.
But today, Monday, 29 December 1941, the quarters of Marine Corps Captain George Springer and his wife Florence, Joey’s dad and mother, and perhaps Joey, are a short distance from the Yard’s Berth 6C. An eternity had passed since the morning of Sunday, 7 December, when he had dashed out of their apartment leaving Joey behind to reach his burning ship and an unprecedented disaster in Pearl Harbor, a lifetime since last he was in her arms in their Honolulu apartment ten days later, nine days since he last talked with her on the phone. He didn’t know at this moment where she was, or what she was going through.
The newspapers and radio stations had been peppered with news of submarine attacks along the West Coast and in Hawaiian waters, and Task Force 16 had had its share of encounters leaving Oahu and entering Puget Sound. Joey was at Barbara Morrison’s when last they spoke on the phone, she had told him she was going home, and that afternoon the task force had sailed out of Pearl Harbor, destination unknown. Neither he nor Joey had the slightest idea precisely when, or on what ship she would “come home” - nor did either know where on the West Coast she would arrive. The war had separated them in a way neither expected, and both were wondering where the other was, where and when they would be reunited.
Early the morning of the 30th, off the West Coast hundreds of miles to the south of Puget Sound, Task Group 15.6 and Convoy 4032 held a steady course of 067 degrees, making 20 knots. The night had been uneventful, and the daylight was bringing weather satisfactory for flight operations. After St. Louis sounded general quarters at 0620, followed by flight quarters, the cruiser catapulted the first of two scout planes at 0659, and at 0710, after signaling the five other ships in the formation, commenced zigzagging according to Plan No. 21.
Following the crew’s mid-morning recovery of the two aircraft, and the ship’s resuming its station ahead of Lurline, Captain Rood initiated St. Louis’s afternoon flight operations at 1230, which began with the catapulting of two more aircraft to search ahead for enemy submarines.
After arising at 7:00 a.m. and eating breakfast, Joey spent the entire day helping the warm clothes committee and doing work for the pursers. The further north the convoy sailed, the more pronounced became the need for warm clothes for people who had never confronted cold weather of any consequence. From among women and children, which constituted the great majority of passengers on Lurline, Matsonia and Monterey came the greatest need.
Numerous women and children had been in Hawaii for years, with year round temperatures considerably warmer than on the mainland. Many passengers were headed for the northern tier and heartland of the United States, where winter temperatures were far more severe than they were on the Pacific Ocean stretching southwest to the islands. To compound their shortage of warm clothes, the abrupt evacuation gave them little time to grab absolute necessities, and certainly gave them insufficient time to make thoughtful preparations, including local purchases from already scarce supplies of warm clothes on Oahu, or orders from the mainland - which required weeks of lead time, and now was made impossible by the wartime circumstance. The low pay and the necessary thrift-driven purchasing habits of enlisted families added to the already aggravated shortage. And adding to it all, when departure time arrived, many of the husbands and fathers who would have otherwise been available to help plan for and assist in meeting their clothing and packing needs, were either deployed elsewhere on the island for indeterminate periods or on extended duty hours.
Work on the committee was particularly detailed and time consuming. Warm clothes for children were not readily available except for a few who might have an extra sweater or jacket. Passengers who might contribute to existing needs had to be asked to help, clothes they could give had to be identified, and then they had to be delivered to collection points specified in Joey’s announcements. Although Joey had borrowed the ship’s speaker system to explain the committee’s purpose, to elicit volunteers, and establish collection points, it was necessary to repeat the announcement to ensure it reached all on board. Nothing on this voyage was easy, but passengers graciously responded.24
In Pearl Harbor, approximately 1,600 miles southwest of Convoy 4032’s position, at 1016 hours Hawaiian time, the cruiser Phoenix got underway in conformance with Commander, Task Force 15.0, operation order #2241. At 1220 hours, Phoenix was on station, leading another convoy bound for San Francisco, carrying more evacuees home to the mainland. Escorting as plane guards and submarine screens were the destroyers Perkins (DD-377) and Aylwin (DD-355), and the minelayers Montgomery (DM-17) and Gamble (DM-15). In the convoy were the passenger carriers USAT Tasker H. Bliss, SS President Garfield, and the cargo ship Procyon (AK-19) - which, under emergency orders, had carried a cargo of plasma and medical supplies from San Francisco, arriving 19 December. Once again aircraft were overhead as an anti-submarine escort until late afternoon of the 30th. At 1930 hours Montgomery and Gamble peeled out of the formation and returned toward Hawaiian waters while the third evacuation convoy of the month proceeded toward San Francisco, and would arrive 6 January 1942.
The Pursers’ Reply
While Joey and the “Nifty-Nine” were busy with the warm clothes committee on another blustery day, the purser, Mr. Fischbeck, and his assistants, had the entire passenger list to consider - for quite different reasons. By the time St. Louis catapulted the task group’s scouts into the air in early afternoon, Convoy 4032’s destination was less than 24 hours ahead. He and the Lurline crew had plenty to do to get ready to dock and disembark the passengers, and time was running out for a retort to the HAWAIIAN WAR CHANT, OR NAVY WIVES’ LAMENT. Nevertheless, he was not to be outdone and found time to write some lyrics of his own, though he had the same problem as the “Nifty-Nine,” with respect to time and musical creativity. Time was short, and he chose to set his original lyrics to the same musical notes of the Georgia Tech fight song.
PURSER’S DIRGE OR PILIKIA MELE
We’re off from Honolulu
With Navy wives aboard,
They came aboard in thousands,
A howling screaming horde.
They had more baggage than
The Shah of Persia’s train.
The babies, brats and grownups
Give us all a pain.
The ship’s full of women,
They lead us an awful pace.
They’ve trampled us down and kicked us
All over the bloody place.
They beef about the staterooms,
Salt water and the food.
They kick about the baggage
And everyone else’s brood.
They don’t want to wear
Life jackets all day long,
They’ve even had the crust to go
And write an insulting song.25
Mr. Fischbeck ensured his ditty was delivered to the “Nifty-Nine,” on paper and in voice. The word PILIKIA has several closely related meanings such as troubles, problems or bother, and in this instance, the most accurate translation of PILIKIA MELE is MISERY SONG.
The formation continued to zigzag nearly all day, except when launching and recovering aircraft. St. Louis recovered the second of its two afternoon flights at 1608 and commenced maneuvering on various courses at 23 knots. Thirty minutes later, with nighttime approaching, came the order “Darken ship,” and all vessels in the convoy began shifting to the same status. There had been no submarine warnings all day. At 1703 St. Louis ceased zigzagging, holding to the base course of 076 degrees. Joey noted in her diary that night, “-almost there!-”
But where was “there?” That was the question still unanswered for passengers on board the ships of Convoy 4032. The captains and navigators on the three former liners had done a magnificent job of holding tight to information regarding the planned destination. They didn’t want to get passengers’ hopes up, then have them dashed by an abrupt change in plans. Though the pursers were probably praying there would be no change in destination - an extra day or more at sea with 1,500 women and children would be mind-numbing - there was still no guarantee the enemy or unanticipated wartime circumstances might force a last minute change.26
While the absence of enemy submarine attacks off the West Coast suggested Japanese commanders were pulling back their undersea forces beginning 26 December, three deck gun attacks on port cities in the Hawaiian Islands occurred over a two-and-a-half hour period the night of 30-31 December. It was a bright moonlit night in the islands when Hilo on the big island of Hawaii, Kahului on Maui, and Nawiliwili on Kauai, experienced the shelling.
The crew of Japanese submarine I-2, responding to orders received on 27 December, first conducted periscope reconnaissance, then surfaced their boat and fired 10 high explosive rounds from her 5.5-inch deck gun at a small merchant vessel moored at Kahului’s Pier 2. Several shells fell short, and the others went over the town in the direction of Puuene. Army guns on Maui unsuccessfully returned fire.
At Nawiliwili, I-3, responding to similar 27 December orders, fired 20 rounds from her 5.5-inch gun at the breakwater for the Wailua River estuary, but most rounds fell short and damage was limited to a cane field blaze, small shrapnel holes in a gasoline tank and a home, amounting to a total of $500.
In Hilo residents were roused from their sleep when I-1, captained by Commander Eitaro Ankyu, surfaced three miles offshore and opened fire on what the crew believed to be a small transport moored in the bay. Actually, the ship was a former World War I “four stacker” destroyer converted to seaplane tender Hulbert (AVD-6) - one of the first Pearl Harbor veterans along north side of “The Bowling Alley” to open fire against attacking torpedo bombers on 7 December. With ten rounds of 5.5-inch high explosive shells, the I-1 crew claimed “moderate damage” to Hulbert, a hit to the pier next to Hulbert, and one round starting a fire in the vicinity of the Hilo Airport. Hulbert unsuccessfully returned fire as did a local Coast Artillery unit.
According to local reports, the submarine sent two rounds ripping through the roofs of piers and among bala trees beyond the airport in an evident effort to hit nearby oil storage tanks. The camouflaging of these tanks and other port installations, which had been postponed pending further consideration of coast and authority from home offices, was begun at daylight.27
Flight to Joy
Off the coast of central California the morning of the 31st, New Year’s Eve, was cold. At one minute past midnight St. Louis was still holding course 076 degrees true, making 20 knots, 1,000 yards ahead of Lurline, the column guide for Matsonia and Monterey. Destroyers Preston and Smith were still on their same stations, Preston on St. Louis’s port bow, and Smith on the starboard bow. Thirty minutes past midnight, St. Louis’s Officer of the Deck, Lieutenant (jg) MacDonald, noted in the ship’s log, “…set clocks ahead one half hour, changed zone description to plus eight.” Convoy 4032 had entered the mainland’s Pacific time zone.
At 0537 hours, with the St. Louis holding on course 076, the watch on her bridge sighted the loom of Farralon Light approximately 45 miles distant, on the port bow. The Western Defense Command and the 12th Naval District, both of which encompassed the city of San Francisco and San Francisco Bay, had been made aware a convoy from Hawaii was inbound, because eight minutes later the watch sighted a patrol bomber, with running lights on, coming almost head-on toward Task Group 15.6. It was a screening patrol bomber that joined overhead to escort the ships into San Francisco Bay.
General quarters rang at 0620, and at 0645 the formation came left to 049 degrees and began zigzagging, while St. Louis prepared to catapult its two scouts to give additional screening coverage. While there had been no submarine warnings during the last days of the crossing, this was not the time to relax. At night, a determined, aggressive submarine captain could have slipped his boat in close to the Bay entrance and waited quietly in the right position to strike.
At 0652 St. Louis catapulted the first scout, manned with pilot, Lieutenant (jg) Richard G. Jack, and his observer, Radioman Third Class Robert H. Whalen, followed almost immediately by the second scout, with pilot, Ensign Raymond E. Moore, and his observer, Radioman Third Class Hal C. Norman. At 0710, Officer of the Deck, Ensign George H. Stone, Jr., noted in the St. Louis log, “…sighted second patrol bomber bearing 045 True…” The aircraft was inbound almost dead ahead, to add one more to the three already in the overhead submarine screen.
With a port turn to due north, then back right to 048 degrees - northeasterly - the formation drew closer and passed Farralon light five miles on the port beam. As the six ships approached the entrance to San Francisco Bay, the two destroyers began falling slowly back, protecting the column of Matson liners, then, as the column entered the channel, falling into line with the destroyer Preston last.
