Memorial Day

Memorial Day, 2010
It was a time of great turmoil and the country was not in great shape economically. Americans were doing their best to get along and to do what is right. The citizens were wondering what the future had in store for the nation and for their families. Folks were so busy just living day to day that any opportunity to help out was the goal.

The person of whom I speak was a farm boy living a long way from town. His dad made sure he attended the local high school but did not want him to waste time on sports or any other non-essential activities. Go to school then get home to help with the farm. When the boy broke his ankle playing football, he paid dearly and argued with his dad. He decided to run away and so he moved to California and started a new life. Just a few months after moving in with an aunt and uncle in Southern California the war broke out. At seventeen, he was quick to join the service. Too short for the Marines, he enlisted in the Navy.

The farm boy/sailor had dreams for sailing the world. They sent him to Faragut, Idaho for basic. It was winter and he had never seen much really cold weather. Upon graduation, he went to gunnery school and became a gunner’s mate. His services were needed and off to the Fleet he went. This time he went to the Aleutians and way more cold. A few months into that with little chance to use his gunnery skills, he was transferred to the South Pacific where the story was different, very different. By is eighteenth birthday, he was on a gun mount in a Navy war aboard DD-666, The USS Black, a destroyer. Not a great ride he once said. They had to bum ice cream from the larger ships if they were to have any. I sort of think of destroyer sailors as the Navy equivalent of a grunt if there is one. Bad grub, bad conditions, hard work and way too little sleep. He got to ride through Halsey’s Typhoon and the ship was buttoned up for several days. Hot, no air conditioning and too rough to eat. He mentioned that of the years he was as sea, he was seasick only once and that lasted over four years.

He did not speak of that experience until I got my orders for another war as a grunt. Even then, he spoke little about all those years, most of which were at sea. He was sitting next to his friend on a Bofors 40 mm gun mount. He lost his friend on that gun mount one early morning. Once when I was in high school (1965) he removed a piece of that gun from his chest which had been there all those years.

After duty on three ships during the war, one of which was sunk giving him almost two days adrift in the Pacific, he was stationed in Corpus Christi, Texas. That is where I entered the picture. He stayed in touch with old shipmates who all died before him. I took him to the Chester Nimitz Museum in Fredericksburg, Texas once. There were ships lists where one could sign as having been crew. He spent about ten minutes by himself, and signed them. He spoke very little for the rest of the day. He was laid to rest at Fort Sam Houston National Cemetery in December 1996. He was a proud member of the “Greatest Generation” and did his part to give us this day.
He never went sailing with us because; as he said “I have done my time at sea”. Every time we step aboard, I remember that I am the son of a sailor. His spirit and his Blue Jackets Manual are aboard Why Knot.