“Pasó por Aqui . .
(See B. Greeley, p. 8-17, March-April 1995 Naval History)
Claude R. Phillips, Jr
When I received my March-April 1995 Naval History, I was startled by the cover illustration, because the pilot looked like someone I had not seen in 52 years. I quickly went to the article on Tom Lea and discovered that he was who I had thought him to be: A1 “Silver” Emerson, my squadron mate from Fighter Squadron-72.
I still have my pilot’s log book— although my original went down with the USS Hornet (CV-8)—and I looked up the entry for 4 February 1943. That was the day that A1 led our strike against 18 Jap destroyers coming down “The Slot.” It was our first operation while on Guadalcanal, having arrived there the day before. No one in the strike group saw A1 go down. Our best guess was that he took a direct hit from a destroyer’s antiaircraft fire. There was a swarm of Zeros around, but A1 was too good a pilot to be caught from behind.
I never heard anyone refer to A1 as a “ladies’ man.” But if he showed the same respect to women that he did to men, then I’m sure that ladies had nothing but great admiration for him. His charisma was evidenced by Tom Lea’s selecting him out of all our squadron pilots for his portrayal.
Al’s loss was a terrible shock to all of us in the squadron, because “Silver” surely was the most competent pilot in our squadron. He was an aviator’s aviator, a pilot who could make an airplane do almost anything, the type of pilot who, in peacetime, would be chosen to lead the Blue Angels.
Seeing the cover picture flushed memories that had lain dormant or been suppressed these many, many years—and made me wonder why it all had to be so.
“War in the Boats: My WW II Submarine Battles”
(See R. Compton-Hall, p. 54, January-February 1995 Naval History)
Lieutenant Colonel Marshall K. Snyder, U.S. Marine Corps
It was interesting to read the story of Henry Munson’s last cruise as skipper of the USS Crevalle (SS-291) in the review of Captain Ruhe’s book. My memories of Captain Munson are somewhat different— he was my high-school physics teacher in 1973. I was a new student at Princeton (New Jersey) High School; my father, an Army colonel, had been transferred to Princeton to bring back the Army ROTC unit which had been shut down in 1971 because of student protests over the Vietnam War.
Captain Munson was a friendly face in an otherwise unfriendly antimilitary town, especially to a young man who was quite proud of his father’s profession. When I look back at it now, I’ve come to realize how poorly Captain Munson was treated by the school. His physics lab was in a building several hundred yards away from the high school proper, and he shared a wing with an “alternative” high school class in which the primary activity was smoking marijuana. Captain Munson was a patient and effective teacher, but I am sure I disappointed him in my inability to comprehend basic physics. I have to assume that he was a teacher because he loved to teach and not because he had to. I doubt that many of his students were aware of his World War II service until after his death.
I would hate to think that readers of Naval History will remember Captain Munson only for his last cruise as the captain of the Crevalle as related by Captain Ruhe. Although Commander Compton-Hall did mention Captain Munson’s success with the USS Rasher (SS-269), I think his entire war record bears recounting:
►Two Navy Crosses
►Nine combat patrols—including several in the World War I-vintage S-38
►As captain of the Rasher, second best patrol of the war: five ships for 52,600 tons
►Sinking of the Japanese escort carrier Taiyo.
“A Matter of Class: Part III”
(See S. L. Morison, pp. 27-29, March-April 1995 Naval History)
Captain Bernard D. Dunn, Supply Corps, U.S. Navy (Retired)
I must take exception to the caption under the photo on page 29 of Mr. Morison’s article.
As the commissioning supply officer of the USS Fox (DLG-33), I am familiar with the USS Wainurright (DLG/CG-28). The Wainwright is not a Leahy (DLG/CG-16)- class ship, nor was the Leahy ever classified as a guided-missile destroyer. The DLG designation stood for guided-missile frigate.
The Wainwright was a ship of the Belknap (DLG/CG-26) class known as “single enders,” with a missile launcher forward and 5-inch gun aft. The Leahy class were called “double enders,” with missile launchers fore and aft. Also, while I am not certain, I think that beginning with the Wainwright an additional section was put into the hull making the other seven ships of the class longer than the first two. Therefore, the seven ships were referred to—at least unofficially—as “28-class DLGs.”
“Normandy: Why and How?”
(See S. Ambrose, pp. 7-9, May-June 1994; W. S. Shepherd, p. 7, July-August 1994; I. Marshall, pp. 4-6, September-October 1994; J. Lyons, pp. 8-9, November- December 1994; A. J. Parmet, pp. 6-7, January-February 1995 Naval History)
Colonel E. A. Livingstone, Army of the United States (Retired)
Commander Lyons asks why, during D- Day, there was no close air support and no use of LVTs during the landings. In his memoirs—A Soldier’s Story (Holt, 1951)—General of the Army Omar Bradley explains that there was no close air support because the Ninth Tactical Air Force (TAF) was unable to participate in joint air-ground training. While the Army ground forces trained in spring 1944, 9th TAF was totally committed to knocking out forward German airfields, attacking V-l flying bomb sites, and supporting Eighth Air Force’s heavy bombers.
Would close air support at Omaha Beach have been more effective or less risky than naval gunfire? On 6 June 1944, danger to friendly troops so hampered fire on targets of opportunity that the assistant commander of the 29th Infantry Division, Brigadier General Norman Cota, told a naval shore fire-control party at about 0800 that designating targets was unwise. But at about 0930 conditions on Omaha Beach had become so serious that Major General Clarence Huebner—commander of the 1st Infantry Division—asked the Navy to engage the German defenses regardless of the danger of hitting U.S. troops. Navy gunners then proceeded to knock out the eight heavily protected gun emplacements covering the beach exits. The precision of the gunfire was perhaps best exemplified by a destroyer which eliminated an 88-mm gun position by putting two rounds through the gun shield while firing only a few yards over the troops on the beach.
As to the absence of LVTs at Normandy, in his book Battles Lost and Won (Harper &. Row, 1966), Hanson W. Baldwin offers several possible explanations: a shortage of LVTs, an inability to procure them in time, the belief of Army commanders in Europe that they had nothing to learn from the Pacific, or confidence by Allied planners that the British-developed flotation devices and “duplex drive” for Sherman tanks would make LVTs unnecessary.
But the British used LVTs when advancing through the inundated areas of Holland during the fall of 1944, attacking Walcheren Island in November 1944, and crossing the Rhine in March 1945. The U.S. Ninth Army used LVTs in its Rhine crossing, as did the U.S. Fifth Army when it crossed the Po River in April 1945. Thus, it appears that LVTs just were not available for Normandy—as many of those used in Europe were the LVT-4s, which had a stem ramp. They were not even in production until 1944, and the Pacific theater would have had first priority for them.
“Looking Back”
(See P. Stillwell, p. 2, September-October 1994 Naval History)
Captain Robert C. Peniston, U.S. Navy (Retired)
Paul Stillwell’s reminiscences of his days at the Recruit Training Command (RTC), Great Lakes made me recall some of my own—although they were spent under different circumstances.
When the USS New Jersey (BB-62) was commencing her first inactivation in late 1947, two ensigns from the ship—Stuart S. Smith and I—were ordered to the RTC. Apparently, someone believed that young officers could identify more easily with the recruits than the significant number of “mustang” officers in the command, and we were chosen to test this concept. A specification was made, however. The tour was limited to one year because Navy Regulations at the time stated that unrestricted line ensigns could not be sent ashore for more than a year.
My wife and I arrived at Great Lakes on 17 December. Shortly thereafter, I was assigned as a battalion commander at Camp Downes with eight companies of recruits under my charge. All but one of the companies was headed by a chief petty officer— the exception was under a first class gunner’s mate. My adjutant was Chief Gunner’s Mate Schmidt, a tough, grizzled, and bald bachelor who tolerated my decisions but made sure I didn’t stray far afield. He was the epitome of a division chief who “trained” ensigns on board ship.
I spent many hours in the barracks, on the grinder for military drill where the butts manual was most prominent, observed classes, and held battalion mast. In short, I was fully into the lives of the recruits. One particularly memorable case concerned a homesick lad who was brought to me after the company commander had run out of ideas to resolve the young man’s problem. I discovered that his trouble stemmed from the odors emanating from a pig farm nearby. When the wind was right and porcine odors wafted over the camp, he was reminded of home, where his father raised pigs and longed to be there. How exactly things were resolved is hazy now, but he did get through the training.
In March, I was named as drill officer and charged with standardizing drill for the RTC. Shortly after assuming this duty, Chief Signalman Dobson asked me for permission to create a drill team and drum and bugle corps composed solely of recruits. Permission from the top was granted with pleasure. Within a month, both units were performing and bringing great credit to the RTC. Somehow we obtained quality musical instruments for the drum and bugle corps, and short white leggings and chrome bayonets for the drill team. Soon the word got around about these units and requests came in for them to perform at Soldier Field, Wrigley Field, and in Milwaukee for Green Bay Packers games.
Two events related to these appearances stand out clearly in my mind. I was sent to Chicago to plan for the appearance of the drill team and the drum and bugle corps for the All Star Game between the College All Stars and the professional football champion Chicago Cardinals. At dinner, I met a most cordial gentleman who kept talking about “Harry”—“Harry looked good;” “I wish I had Harry’s tailor.” Finally I asked him who Harry was. “Truman, of course,” replied Jake Arvey, a powerful Chicago politician. He also predicted that President Truman would win reelection against Governor Thomas Dewey. Since Truman was far down in the polls then, I questioned him in the matter. It would happen, he said, because Leslie Biffle, the Secretary of the Senate, had traveled around the country incognito to test the political climate. He was certain Truman could win with a vigorous campaign because the grass-roots support was there.
One time the recruits were asked to perform at Wrigley Field during the halftime of a game between the Chicago Bears and the Boston Yanks. They were almost through when the officials started to run them off in order to begin the second half. They were brought up short by “Papa Bear” himself, George Halas, who let it be known in no uncertain terms that these young men were his guests, and they would not come off the field until their drill was completed. After that, Papa Bear was a bit of all right with me.
The year went quickly and, on 16 December, I was detached from the RTC and ordered to the Combat Information Center Officers’ School in Glenview, Illinois. It had been a good tour, but I was glad to be headed back to sea. Apparently, Smitty and I had done well, because more unrestricted line ensigns followed us.
“It Only Took A Second”
(See R. Pedroncelli, pp. 8-11, January- February 1995 Naval History)
John P. Pawley
I enjoyed Mr. Pedroncelli’s Iwo Jima article, but can offer some clarification. Mr. Pedroncelli reports, “The first [flag raising] was visible to those on shore, but it could not be seen by the men on the ships surrounding the Island.” He also refers to a radio report which advised when the first flag raising was about to take place. I don’t know if all ships heard this report, but the chaplain of my ship—the USS Texas (BB-35)—did. He informed the crew to watch for it and I with many others viewed it from the ship’s deck.
The Texas’s log for that day, 23 February 1945, reads: “At 1037 the American Flag was observed hoisted atop SURIB- ACH1 by RGT #28.” Mr. Rosenthal snapped his famous photograph of the second flag raising almost two hours later.
“Oldest Ship Comes Home”
(See p. 59, January-February 1995 Naval History)
Molder First Class Dan Brown, U.S. Navy (Retired)
Thank you for running the article about the USS Jason (AR-8). I served in the Jason for more than three years during the late 1950s. During my tour, she had her designator changed to AR-8. She was originally commissioned as ARH-1: heavy hull repair ship. That designation meant that she could handle repairs on any ship— including battleships and cruisers.
I was a molder and in our lower foundry we had eight 8-inch gun barrels which were removed when the Jason went into the shipyard. The ship’s company was given the job of removing the racks that held the barrels. This turned out to be a major job because the racks were made of galvanized steel at least one inch thick.
I served in ten repair ships during my career. Except for three—the Jason, the USS Holland (AS-32) and the USS Samuel Gompers (AD-37)—all of them have been scrapped or transferred to other nations.
It really galls me to see all the hoopla about preserving the so-called “fighting ships,” but not one voice raised suggesting that one of these magnificent, but under- appreciated ladies be saved either as a museum or as a training facility. There are plenty of people—juvenile and adult—who could benefit from the vocational-education possibilities present in every one of these ships. Besides foundries, there are pattern, sheet-metal, electronics, and watch-repair shops—just to name a few. Also, there are adequate berthing and galley facilities for at least 600 people. If I knew how to go about it, I would start a campaign to at least try this concept. Anyone have any ideas?