“t relieve you, sir.”—With these words I found myself in command of the U.S.S. Whippoorwill. The Whippoorwill was called the “Whip” for a shorter name. This was on February 26, 1941. She was a Bird Class mine sweeper. These ships were built during the World War. They were designed for operations in the North Sea. They were low-powered, single-screw steamers of 950 tons displacement, 188 feet length over-all. The “Whip” was equipped both for mining and mine sweeping, and could carry mines on her mine tracks. She was in good condition considering her age and that she had served almost continuously in the tropics. She had been assigned to duty in the Hawaiian Islands or the Philippine Islands since her original commissioning in 1919.
The “Whip” was my first command. I considered that I was doing my duty to take any measure to insure her a maximum of readiness for any task within her capabilities.
March and April were spent in making alterations necessary to strengthen the ship and in installing new equipment. The foremast was removed. A stub mast aft of the bridge was installed. The towing gear was entirely removed, to my great satisfaction, as it made the “Whip” more of a combatant ship. Modifications were made in the mine tracks to accommodate these new equipments. Splinter protection was placed around the gun deck, chart house, bridge, and after machine guns.
The U.S.S. Tanager, Quail, and Lark had been designated for similar changes. They were a division, under the command of the senior commanding officer. The commanding officer of the Tanager was the Commodore of the division. The captains’ nicknames were Ed, Sug, and Count in the same order as their ships.
Tests of all equipment were made when modernization was completed. No major defects were discovered on test. Some minor adjustments were found to be needed, but nothing of any great moment.
Most of my spare time during this period was spent in the study of the ship, the equipment, mine sweeping and mine laying. I had had no previous duty of this type, and I had much to learn.
The long passage.—This division of minesweepers had been modernized in preparation for duty with the Asiatic Fleet. It was decided that they could be used as station ships along the route of a flight of planes from Hawaii to the Philippines. The ships were to be on station on the day of the flight for each leg, and to proceed as soon as the planes had passed their positions.
The “Whip” left Pearl Harbor for her station on May 5, 1941. The other ships departed at times to be on their stations at the time of the flight. The trip out was quite long. We set a course to pass to the north of Wake Island. We did a great deal of fishing. We went at a good trolling speed. On two occasions we caught enough fish to supply the entire crew of the ship with a meal. That afternoon we crossed the 180th meridian. We celebrated in great style. All newcomers to “The Realm of the Golden Dragon” were duly initiated.
The day we passed Wake Island we sent a message to The Pan American station there asking that the aerobeacon be turned on during the period from sunset to midnight. About eight o’clock that night we picked up the light. We passed to the northward of the island. We could see the lights on the buildings and the ship inside. We were steaming with the ship darkened and passed unseen.
The time allowed to reach our first station was such that we made slow speed, in order that we would not have a long wait on station, laying to for the planes to pass. We made 8 knots most of the time. Every day we held drills. The ship had been in the navy yard a considerable length of time and we had been given some new men before starting the trip.
The Battle Problem was my favorite drill or exercise. The Battle Problem involves the entire ship. The problem would be made as realistic as possible by making the problem conditions exactly the same as conditions existing in the ship, at the time of the problem. A detailed explanation of what outside conditions were to be assumed was made up. This would include who we were to fight and why we were fighting. The tactical part of the problem was then made up. This would be a time sequence of events. The problem would be read to the crew at Quarters. A copy of the problem would be posted and key men would be given copies. After an hour or so, the problem would be held. I would never appear in the problem for long, as I wanted to observe. When the problem was over I would have the crew at quarters and explain the points of the problem to them that seemed to be improperly handled. If the problem went off poorly, we would have it over again the next day.
Fishing took up much time. With the best tackle on the ship, I had the worst luck. Not a catch the entire passage.
Arriving on station we lay to, waiting for the flight to start. We got all reports of its progress and after it passed us we proceeded to Agana in Guam. We did not see the planes, as they passed about 50 miles from us. They used us as a radio beacon for their navigation.
The passage to Guam was uneventful. We made our landfall on Rota, the Japanese island to the north of Guam. We went well into the coast of Guam to see the scenery. We sent a message to the Governor asking for certain needed supplies.
The naval pilot met us outside Agana Harbor. The aide to the Governor, a young marine officer, came aboard to tell us that we were to proceed to our station toward .the Philippines without delay. No supplies were obtained for us because of the necessity of our immediate departure. We made arrangements to obtain a baking of bread from the local bakery and to obtain such fresh vegetables as were to be had at the local market before we left for our station.
Our quick departure was a disappointment to us. We had been at sea a long time. It would have been a break in the monotony to get everyone ashore for a walk on land.
We arrived on station, and again the planes passed us without being seen. The flight was over as far as we were concerned. We set our course for San Bernardino Strait, the entrance to the Embarcodero, the inland passage to Manila. The Embarcodero is one of the most beautiful sea passages in the world.
The Embarcodero was the usual route of the Manila Galleon from Manila to the Pacific. The Manila Galleon was a ship sent periodically by the Spanish government from Manila to Acapulco, carrying goods from the Orient to the Spanish colonies in the Americas.
We sighted the light on Corregidor in the early evening. It was far away. It was a powerful light. On looking into Manila Bay through the south channel we saw countless bright white lights. Nothing could be made of them. No red or green lights were seen. One of those fierce tropic rains came on us. Nothing could be seen. We turned to seaward and lay to until it cleared. Then we went on in. We saw on coming close aboard that the bright lights were carried by fishing sampans doing some sort of fish-jacking operations. We were assigned a berth inside the breakwater. We had finished our journey. I went to bed. It was almost dawn on Sunday. Later someone awakened me. An officer from the Commander in Chief’s Staff was there to see me and also the Customs Inspector and Medical Inspector. It was the twenty-ninth of May.
Mine Division Nine.—“Manila” is a Moro phrase meaning “the place by the river of flowers.” It might justifiably be called the Paris of the Philippines. It has a fine natural situation, and pains have been taken to make it a great city. Where failure has occurred it has not been from lack of effort. Tropical verdure conceals what is the tropical version of slums, dumps, and other unsightly things.
The day after our arrival we moored to the Black Hawk for a much-needed overhaul period. That afternoon I was at the Army Navy Club. I saw the Lark standing in. A signal was sent at once to Count inviting him to join me at the Club.
One by one the ships came in. A couple of days later the Quail anchored in the harbor. We had a party for Sug. Sug had quite a trip. His station had been a little farther north than the “Whip’s” or the Lark's.
A few nights later I was sitting in the Jai Alai stands watching the play, when I heard a voice say, “Remember me?” I looked up and said, “Why yes, I think that I do.” It was the last of the Mohicans, Uncas himself.
Typhoon anchorages were assigned to all ships stationed in the vicinity of Manila. These winds are very strong. The rain seems to fall horizontally. Someone always seemed to be dragging anchor. When riding a single anchor, the wind would get on one bow and away the ship would sail, just like a kite. It would sail out until a change in balance of forces was reached where the ship’s head would change enough to bring the wind to the other bow. Then away she would go to the other side. The period of these violent yaws varied. When the yaws stopped and the wind was thus kept constantly on the same bow, it was a sure indication of dragging. We finally developed the method of riding to a full scope of chain on one anchor and dropping the second anchor to a very short scope down wind from the riding anchor. We would drag the second anchor over the bottom. This prevented the violent yaws which caused the riding anchor to drag. We never dragged using this system.
We were assigned to the Asiatic Fleet as a regular mine-sweeping unit of that organization. This had its unpleasant side. We were given all of the tugboat duties that the fleet found necessary in their operations. This consisted of towing targets for the cruisers and destroyers and helping the tenders shift from one buoy to another, and similar activities. I did not mind doing the work, but it hurt my pride to use the “Whip” as a tug.
The Southern Islands.—The Asiatic Fleet was ordered on maneuvers in the Southern Islands. Mine Division Nine was attached to the submarine force. We cruised with the Canopus.
We were released from traveling in company with the Canopus in the Sulu Sea. We went to Zamboanga in Mindanao for liberty and recreation. The passage to Zamboanga through the Basilon Strait is a marvel to the beholder. Basilon Island is on one hand and Zamboanga is on the other. The water was almost crowded with the vintas of the sea Moros, or water gypsies, as we steamed in. Each vinta apparently held a family. All were naked or nearly so. The adults were peddlers. They had conch shells, sea-bead necklaces, krises, daggers, Moro mats, coconuts, bananas, pineapples, or they would sell their vinta if you wished to buy it. The children were perched like so many sparrows on the edge and floats of the vintas ready to dive for a coin. They seemed very anxious to get undershirts and empty 5-gallon tins. In spite of their closeness to the water they were very dirty. We were in Zamboanga over a week end. On Monday morning we got under way and stood toward Tutu Bay on Jolo. We held divisional tactical exercises on the way. We took the route through the Celebes Sea. We anchored in Tutu Bay.
The next day we were on our way to Tawi Tawi. We were doing sectional exercises. A message came ordering the Tanager and “Whip” to return to Manila and report to Commander 16th Naval District for duty. We fell in astern of the Tanager and headed for Manila. We passed through the waters of the Sulu Archipelago that night. The lights were poorly tended. There were no lights showing. They are all unwatched lights. It was a bad night because the passages are narrow. Two days later we anchored in Canacao Bay in company with the Tanager. This was our base until we left Manila Bay after the war started.
Mine operations.—The Commodore reported to the Commandant for duty. We were assigned to duty with Inshore Patrol. Inshore Patrol Headquarters was a small, hexagonal-shaped building situated across the road from the main entrance to the Commandancia.
There was an enormous amount of work to be done. A patrol had to be established. Mine fields had to be laid. Torpedo nets had to be set up. Sound loops had to be made up and laid. All movable naval activities had to be concentrated under the protection of Corregidor. It all had to be done quickly.
The Tanager was assigned to patrol duty. The Commander Patrol had control of all shipping entering and leaving Manila Bay.
The “Whip” was ordered to remain in Canacao Bay. After a day in the bay we received orders to sweep at dawn the following morning.
Mines had to be layed. The lines of mines in the South Channel field were long. The Tanager and “Whip” operated together in laying each line. Currents were found to be strong and variable. We would lay a line of can buoys to mark the line where the mines were to go. Then one ship would start laying mines at the Corregidor end of the line. The other ship would follow shooting holes in the buoys as they were passed. The buoys would sink. No one could tell where the mines were layed.
The “Whip” laid the Caballo field. This was a small field, in a narrow place. The Tanager and “Whip” laid the Subic Bay field. This was most interesting. We operated out of Olongapo. At a later time the Bittern laid a small field off Cochinos Point which was called the North Field.
Manila Bay.—The Tanager and “Whip” went to Cavite for an overhaul after the mine laying was completed. All of the unskilled labor and many of the lesser administrative tasks were in the hands of the Filipinos. The work done on the “Whip” was entirely satisfactory. It would not have been better done in any navy yard.
The naval establishment at Cavite was made by the Spaniards when they first settled on Manila Bay.
The Chinese merchants had godowns on Sangley Point across Canacao Bay from Cavite. The Spaniards called the Chinese Sangleys. They sold Chinese merchandise to the Spanish traders for shipment in the Manila Galleon. The Manila Galleon trade started very early in the Spanish settlement. The Galleon made its regular trip for 250 years. It continued until the American colonies revolted from Spain.
The engineering plant of the “Whip” was given a complete overhaul. The boilers were rebricked. We were given everything for which we asked. When our overhaul was completed we were ordered to duty with Inshore Patrol. We had some interesting work there.
The vessels operating under Inshore Patrol were the Asheville, Tulsa, and all the mine sweepers. The Pidgeon and Heron were used when they could be spared by their organizations.
The Army had mine fields at the entrance to Manila Bay. These were in addition to the navy fields. When we were on patrol we were stationed off the entrance to the outer army mine field. Ships entering obtained permission to enter from us. In this way we kept account of the ships entering. We supplied pilots to ships which were entering through the fields for the first time. Ships going out were under directions from the Captain of the Port.
I was Commander Patrol at various times. Three things stand out in my mind from these patrol duties. (1) The first ship we stopped with a bow shot. The “Whip” is slow. This ship was a fast ship running into danger. We fired two shots before she realized that we were firing at her. Once she saw that we had fired a shot across her bow it was difficult to make her get under way again. The Captain said that he saw the splash of the first shot. He thought it was a whale blowing. The second shot was so close to him that it fanned whiskers. He knew for sure what that one was. (2) A lumber boat from the Ilocano coast ran into the mines in the north field and was blown up. This was not during a “Whip” tour of duty. Some ships did not know that Manila Bay entrance was mined. (3) There were some passes which were not mined. These could be used by small ships to get around the mine field. I stationed a patrol boat there. It caught a number of small ships entering through these channels. The masters and crews of these were all imprisoned.
A main ship channel was outlined from Manila to the sea. Side channels were outlined from Cavite to the main ship channel and from Cavite to Manila. A clearing sweep of these channels was ordered in November. It was ordered that two sweepers be kept on this duty. Our sweeping operations shook down to a 4-day cycle. We swept no mines. There were none there to sweep.
“Attacked!”—The messenger was holding a message file board toward me. It was early morning of December 8, 1941. The message on the file board read, “Hostilities have commenced with Japan.”
The ship was called to quarters. I read the announcement. Measures were taken at once to prevent surprise attacks on us. We swept that day in company with the Lark. At noon the Lark made out an enemy air formation. High! When it seemed to be coming into range the “Whip” opened fire. I believe these were the first shots fired in anger in the Global War by a United States ship on the Asiatic Station. It gave our gun crews some loading in sight of an enemy. This shooting gave us some practice in observing bursts fired at actual planes in formation. The planes left without attacking.
We spent the night anchored in Mariveles Bay. The next day we swept. Night finding us near Manila, we anchored in Canacao Bay.
The Finch took our place sweeping with the Lark the next morning, December 10. The “Whip” fueled and took on stores. We made all possible efforts to prepare for extended operations. Men were sent to Manila on special duties. A Chief Machinist’s Mate had orders to get from commercial concerns spare parts for our Diesel engines. The acting Commissary Steward was to get all the food supplies he could obtain. The leading Signalman was in Manila trying to corner the cigarette market. Cigarettes were going to be scarce. Most of the crew were cigarette smokers. My boy was ashore to get my laundry.
After lunch I was in a horizontal position on my bunk looking at the overhead and wondering whether it would hold up very well or not. A heavy weight falling on the deck or an explosion occurring there might cause the overhead to fall on the bunk. This would be inconvenient. The dead air space between the overhead and the deck would then be removed and the cabin would be most uncomfortable in the tropic heat. While lying there the messenger came in again. He said, “A large enemy force of planes is reported to be approaching from the direction of Manila!” I got up and went to the bridge.
“General Quarters!” “Heave Around!” got the ship to Battle Stations and under way. We headed for Manila. Submarines were coming out as fast as they could from their buoys and from alongside tenders. They submerged when they were clear of the breakwater. There were some merchant ships inside the breakwater. They remained. The Lark and Finch were near Corregidor sweeping.
Then we saw the enemy. All sorts of planes, light bombers, fighters, heavy bombers, were there. There appeared to be over a hundred of them. Our big, slow- moving flying boats were flying toward Corregidor, keeping close to the water.
An attack was started on our starboard side, toward Nichols Field, an Army airport. We shot at a number of planes in that direction. Two planes were hit and crashed. We were shooting at them but so were a lot of other people. Every once in a while a submarine would show his conning tower, so we would not run over them. They became quite a nuisance. It seemed that we annoyed some sub or other every time we turned. After we neared the breakwater we turned and headed toward San Nicholas Shoal. Bombs were dropped on Manila Harbor among the merchant ships. Only one was hit. The attack on the navy yard was now in progress. We kept up a fire on low flying fighters and dive bombers coming out from attacks on the navy yard. One came very near to us. He came up on our port quarter. The after machine guns fired at him. Some light colored smoke came out of his fuselage. He tried some kind of a maneuver. He banked his plane and put a burst of machine gun bullets about 50 feet ahead of the ship. We put on full left rudder and went from “Ahead” to “Full Astern” in an effort to let him get ahead of the“ Whip.” He crossed close aboard ahead of us and fell into the water about a thousand yards away from us. He sank, immediately.
Cavite Navy Yard was a mass of flame. We headed for the navy yard to see if we could help, and to see if our boat was still there. The boat had been left in Canacao Bay to reduce the splinter hazard. We left one man in the boat, the boat engineer. He was armed with a Springfield rifle. As we approached Sangley Point Buoy we passed the Quail. The Quail turned and followed the “Whip” to the navy yard. We passed the Tanager off the Sangley Point Buoy. The Quail and Tanager had been moored together at a pier in the navy yard at the start of the raid. The Quail's engineering plant had been in operation. The Quail took the Tanager out of the yard. They separated near the Sangley Point Buoy. The Tanager anchored and completed preparations to get under way.
About this time the Isabel reported over the radio telephone that she was in communication with the navy yard. I asked her to have the navy yard tell me where they needed us most. The navy yard never answered. We saw the yard signal station. It was flying a distress signal. I said, “Boy! she isn’t lying! She is in distress if anything ever was!” It was difficult to decide where to go. The Pidgeon was playing her hoses on some barges that were burning at the end of Guadeloupe Pier. I made out a destroyer at the small pier between Machina Wharf and Guadeloupe Pier.
I sent the Pidgeon a signal: “The ‘Whip’ is going in and take out that destroyer.” We went in between Guadeloupe Pier and Machina Wharf. It was a mess. It was the Peary. The ship had many little fires all over her. She had been strafed and had been struck by bomb fragments and debris. The war heads and torpedo air flasks in the torpedo overhaul shop on Machina Wharf next to her were exploding. The air was filled with clouds of debris. A small motorboat under the command of an Ensign, a young reserve officer, attached to Inshore Patrol, assisted in the efforts to take out the Peary. The heat and explosions made ship handling difficult. The pressure would be on one side and then on the other. The Ensign tried to take lines from the “Whip” to the Peary without success as we made our approach. We put our bow against her stern. We made fast with a 6-inch line. We backed and parted the line. The heat or a falling fragment might have caused the line to part. We tried it again. Again the line parted. It became more difficult to keep in position for backing out. The wind and the current kept working to put the “Whip” broadside to the end of the pier. This was bad. Guadeloupe Pier and Machina Wharf each extended a good distance beyond this little pier. We came up to the Peary again. We went quite far up on her port quarter. This was the side away from the pier. I sent a man over to the Peary to make sure that she had no mooring lines to the pier. The “Whip’s” man reported when the lines were clear. We backed and she came away.
We backed clear of the dock. There was shoal water not far from the piers. We went alongside the Peary. This was more easily done than jackknifing her. The “Whip” went between the Peary and the burning barges off Guadeloupe Pier. We had all of our hoses going all of the time. Once in a while we played the water on the bridge to cool that place off. The men on deck were kept cool by hosing them down when it became too hot.
Our boat was near by and my boy was in it. The three others ashore on duty never returned. They joined the Naval Battalion on Corregidor. My boy was returning to the ship at the time of the attack. He made his way through the burning navy yard to Puerta del Mar Wharf and found our boat there. The engineer had stayed near the landing during the attack. He brought the boat alongside when we got the Peary moored to the buoy. He brought some Pharmacist’s Mates and Hospital Corpsmen from the navy yard. The dispensary had been burned.
The Peary was short of men. Some of her officers and crew had been killed in the navy yard where they were working. Others were in the navy yard but unable to get back to the ship.
We went out of the navy yard searching for the target raft mooring buoy. I asked the acting executive officer of the Peary whether he had any other ideas to suggest concerning the Peary. He replied in the negative. There was a great deal of loose gear floating around in the water. It seemed that we might not be able to find the buoy. The Peary had no anchors aboard. We connected one of our bower anchors to a heavy piece of wire rope which was led from the bow of the Peary. After getting ready to anchor the Peary we found the buoy and moored her to it.
We put our Damage Control party aboard the Peary as soon as she came clear of the pier. She had no power and was helpless. The Damage Control party with the aid of the Peary's crew put out the fires and cleared away the wreckage. The Pharmacist’s Mate and a working party tended the wounded and removed the bodies of the casualties to the “Whip.” Our boat took the wounded to the hospital in Canacao.
The Commissary Department had been busy. Hot coffee and sandwiches were ready as soon as she was taken alongside. All of the men of the Peary were fed a meal after she was moored to the buoy.
The work on the Peary was well and quickly done. Our Engineer Officer made an inspection of the engineering parts of the ship. He reported to me that it could be made ready for operation with little work. The Boatswain reported that there was no apparent structural damage. The Gunner checked the ordnance equipment and took all steps necessary for its safety. An officer from the Admiral’s Staff came alongside the “Whip.” He asked me for information concerning the Peary. I reported that the Peary was structurally undamaged and could be put in operation in a day or two at most. The Peary had much bad luck. She was sunk later in Darwin, Australia, during an air raid.
While we were working with the Peary, the Pidgeon went over to the other side of Machina Wharf and took off the Seadragon, a submarine, to safety. The Tanager and the Quail made efforts to put out the fires on the barges at the piers. The Lark and Finch took in their sweeps and came to the navy yard to render assistance. The Bittern suffered heavy damage during the air raid and was later scuttled.
The Inshore Patrol Headquarters went up in a blaze of glory, as did the Commandancia.
A large number of persons had been killed by the fire in the navy yard. The buildings were ignited so quickly that many inside found it impossible to escape. The navy yard had given leave to all workers who desired to move their families that day and prepare them for the bombings which were expected. Many workmen were outside the yard for that reason. Many also escaped due to the attack having its inception during the noon hour. The fire did not get to the Ammunition Depot, although it was surrounded on three sides by fire.
After the boat returned from the hospital landing the gunner and a working party were sent to the Ammunition Depot to give such help as they could. It looked as if the Ammunition Depot would become involved in the fire. They did good work there. They assisted in the removal of torpedo war heads from the depot to boats. The war heads were removed to places of safety from which they could be recovered when desired. When they returned to the ship they brought all the anti-aircraft ammunition which was left in the depot. This was most welcome. We had used over 100 rounds that day.
I received an inquiry from the Admiral concerning the amount of fuel we had in the “Whip.” I answered that we were filled to capacity. The Lark was also asked the same question. They gave the same answer. In a little while the “Whip” and Lark received orders to proceed to Manila. The commanding officers were further ordered to report to the Tulsa for a conference at 2000 that evening. We gave the Peary enough food and water to last for a day or so, then we cast off and headed for Manila.
The scene was one which brought to mind an old-time description of Hell. The navy yard was ablaze. Fuel tanks at Nichols Field were burning. A ship was on fire in Manila Harbor.
At 1930 we anchored in Manila Harbor. The Lark was anchored near by. Count came over in his boat. We went to the Tulsa in the Lark's boat.
A trip to the Isles of Spice.—We were met at the head of the accommodation ladder by the Captain of the Tulsa.
We were told that .a task force had been ordered consisting of the Tulsa, Asheville, “Whip,” and Lark. The task of Task Force was to go to the Netherlands Indies by Makassar Strait.
At about 2130 we were given orders to form the force and were given the general operation plan. The orders to form the force were in writing from the Commander in Chief of the Asiatic Fleet. The plan was verbal. We were to get under way and leave Manila at or before 2200 in order to get as far away as possible by darkness.
The initial rendezvous was outside the mine fields. If circumstances caused a ship to miss the others at the rendezvous, she was to proceed to the first hide-out and wait there for the arrival of the rest of the task force. A conference would be held when all ships arrived. Our route after leaving the first hide-out would generally follow close to the coast by day and making open water crossings by night. Every effort was to be made in saving as many ships as we could. The general idea was to get to Balik Papan.
We talked for a few moments after hearing the general plan. We shook hands and departed. The Commodore said as we left, “We are going on a high adventure.” And so we did.
During the conference the Captain arranged to send some casualties that he had taken from the Tanager to the Army Navy Club landing. He sent his boat by way of the “Whip.” The Tulsa’s boat took off the casualties from the Peary for the same disposition as the Tanager's casualties.
We waited until midnight for the Tulsa to get under way. She did not move. I sent a signal to the Commodore saying that in the absence of any further orders the “Whip” was getting under way and standing to the rendezvous. Count saw the “Whip” getting under way and got the Lark under way. He still had the radio telephones aboard that he had been ordered to deliver to a gunboat. He had great difficulty finding the gunboat to which he was to make delivery. The Lark was not able to follow the “Whip” to the rendezvous.
The “Whip” stood out. We went to the rendezvous and lay to. Two British cruisers came out. The channel was illuminated for them and so was the “Whip.” A company of merchantmen stood out and again we were illuminated. Another group of merchantmen stood out. The “Whip” was again illuminated. I decided that it would be better for the “Whip” to go to the first hide-out and wait there for the rest of Task Force.
We got under way and stood toward the passage between Cabra Island and Lubang Island. This is a narrow passage. We made it at daybreak. We could see the glow and the smoke from burning Cavite from the channel. I was sorry to leave. We left many fine men.
We followed the coast, keeping close to the shore and rounded Cape Calavite toward the first hide-out. The lighthouse keeper did not raise his colors. I sadly thought that “Old Glory” had been lowered at Cape Calavite not to be raised for some time.
The first hide-out was an indentation in the shore. We kept close in to the beach. It would be more difficult to see us from offshore. Early in the afternoon an unidentified plane approached us from over our stern flying quite low. We got under way at full speed as quickly as we could. We wanted to have our guns bear on him. When he came to .50-caliber range we opened fire with the after machine guns. He did a flip flop of some sort, falling to about 100 feet off the water. He was turning while he did this. When he leveled off he high tailed it for the hills of Mindoro. The “Whip” also high tailed it. We went down the coast to put as much distance between us and the hideout as possible before the plane could return with some of his buddies or get word to a sub or other enemy force to attack us. We stopped in another cove farther down the coast and cleared our propeller. We had picked up a section of line in our screw during the work at the pier with the Peary or in the water of the bay. The line was finally cleared. We got under way and went down the coast of Mindoro.
At dusk we headed toward a point off northeast Palawan. This passage was well offshore. Rumors about Manila had it that Palawan was a nest of smugglers of Japanese to the islands. I did not wish to be seen in such a place for there would probably be Japanese agents there. It would be just as well for them to be kept in ignorance of what ships were passing, even though they could do us no damage. It was probably safer for us out in the open in those waters. Every corner we turned contained a possible menace to us. We knew that the enemy had many ships compared to ours and that she had them close around us and that they were looking for ships flying colors like ours.
The news reports contained the item that the Japanese were landing on northern Borneo and were trying to take over Sibutu Passage. This made a change in plan necessary. I decided to cross the Sulu Sea and go through the Sulu Islands to the north of Sibutu Strait.
Our lookouts did as thorough a job as ever lookouts did. From the crow’s-nest lookout scanning the horizon, to the bow lookout watching the bottom, the lookouts were alert. All hands not on some other watch supplemented the assigned lookouts. The best lookout was kept that I have ever seen. I sat on the bridge bulwark and tried to cast my mind ahead to the hours that were to come.
We coasted along the islands to the northeastward of Palawan. At an hour before sunset we headed across the Sulu Sea. Our course took us to the east of Tubbataha Reef and through the Sulu Archipelago about half way between Tawi Tawi and Jolo. That night the porpoises playing around the ship came in for a good deal of unfavorable comment. They make a light streak in the water which is nice to watch on a pleasure cruise, but which has some rather alarming possibilities when you are making a passage through water which may be infested with submarines.
We made a landfall an hour or so after sunrise on some unnamed mangrove swamp. We spent the day threading our way through the Sulu Archipelago. We could see bottom most of the time close to our keel. The charts were true. We went through a passage that probably nothing but a survey had ever used before. Near the Celebes Sea we saw a plane which was apparently operating out of some cove in Tawi Tawi. We could not identify this plane. It showed no sign of seeing us. Our decks were all painted over. I was unable to determined who it was. It might have been one of our patrol planes. They were operating along the northern entrance to Makassar Strait at that time.
At dusk we entered the Celebes Sea and headed south for Makassar Strait and Balik Papan in Borneo. We had no navigational charts of this area. We used a general chart. We had the Sailing Directions and they were of great assistance. We had a hard time of it. One piece of tropic coast seems to be much like another. The rain falls so densely that it is impossible to see anything. There are rocks and shoals in those waters. We had the Recognition Signals so we were safe from being fired on by a Dutchman or a Britisher. King Neptune was in hiding for the duration of the war so we crossed the equator without ceremony. Two nights and a day after leaving the Sulu Sea we arrived off Balik Papan.
We lay to for a couple of hours. A pilot then took us through the mine fields to an anchorage in the harbor. The Pilot Master on the control vessel was a pleasant young Dutch naval officer. He told me that all Europeans not engaged in essential work had been evacuated from Balik Papan. The pilot was a native.
I reported to the Senior Officer Present immediately on anchoring. This was the Commanding Officer of the Marblehead. The Executive Officer met me at the gangway. We had received a message from Commander in Chief, Asiatic Fleet, while we were transiting the Sulu Sea as follows: “Are you proceeding independently to your destination?” I had not answered because of radio silence being in effect. I felt sure that if they had a job for me the order would have been sent. I knew that if I failed to arrive they would have their answer. The message was received two days after it was originated. I asked the Captain to report my whereabouts.
It was decided that the “Whip” and Heron would remain. We fueled from the pier the next morning. The fuel oil we received at Balik Papan was exceptionally good. Arrangements were made to fuel the rest of the Task Force upon their arrival in Balik Papan. We removed the wooden top section of the mainmast. This lessened the splinter hazard. We removed everything which could be spared from the ship to reduce the splinter hazard and also to reduce our topside weight.
Our Task Force steamed in three days after our arrival and fueled the day following their arrival in Balik Papan. We departed the following morning for Makassar in Celebes. We made an almost direct passage.
The Commanding Officer of the Boise was Senior Officer Present in Makassar. Our Task Force was ordered to proceed to Surabaya immediately.
We got under way and formed column. The “Whip” fell in at the end. I was glad to be there. We headed for Maduro Strait, the East Gate to Surabaya.
A Dutch patrol vessel came out of the channel. She was tooting her whistle. The Lark gave the danger signal. The column stopped. The Tulsa had incomplete information of the mine field. We got straightened out and headed for the channel. The Tulsa took a pilot. The East Gate to Surabaya was poorly marked and it was shallow. It was narrow for miles. We stirred up mud. We finally got to Surabaya Roads. We anchored off the Naval Base.
The Royal Netherlands Navy.—I went to the fleet headquarters to find out what was to be done with us. I was anxious to get charts. I might be called on any day to sweep or do something requiring careful navigation. The Staff took care of me. Notes were made of my needs. They were all taken care of eventually.
The “Whip” and the Lark were ordered to duty with the Dutch on December 24. Count and I reported at once. We were assigned to mine warfare duties. The Dutch authorities with whom I worked were all men of the highest order. The Chief of the Mine Warfare Section was a very able and intelligent man whom I liked immensely. His conferences were always a pleasure. His assistant was likewise a very agreeable person. He had met and entertained Count, as a Dutch Midshipman when Count was on a midshipmen’s cruise to the Netherlands. It was like old home week.
Our first duties were assisting the Naval Base in making patterns of our sweep gear and in demonstrating the gear. A lieutenant in the Royal Netherlands Navy was ordered to the “Whip” as Liaison Officer for the U. S. Mine Force operating with the Royal Netherlands Navy. The Lieutenant was a valuable addition to my command. He acted as a regular Watch Officer under way. He signed the deck log. He may have been the first Dutch officer to sign the Log Book of a United States ship. He took care of the stores for the “Whip” and the Lark. The Lieutenant was not familiar with American expressions at first. He said that Americans did not speak English correctly. He agreed with me that we spoke it correctly by the time he was detached. The Dutch officers for deck duty are called Sailor Officers, while the Engineers are called Engineer Officers. He was a Sailor Officer and an excellent one and had a little difficulty with our engineering stores from lack of experience with engineering material.
We were assigned a regular berth in the Torpedo Boat Harbor of the Naval Base. We operated out of the Naval Base. One day I had the Lieutenant remain in port to do some work while the “Whip” went out. When we came into the harbor we approached the berth we had previously occupied. During the approach we received a signal to go to some other berth. The waters of the Naval Base are narrow and there were many ships at the berths. I did not know the location of the new berth. The “Whip” moored at the berth we were approaching. I sent a signal to the control tower that if it were desired to have the “Whip” at a different berth she could be moved with tugs. The harbormaster came with tugs and moved the “Whip” to a new berth. The “Whip” and Lark were assigned this berth permanently. When the Lieutenant returned to the ship he declared to me, “You think the Whippoorwill is the most important ship in the Java Seal” I replied, “She is!”
The Dutch and Javanese had great difficulty with our name. We all got in the habit of designating the Lark as our destination. We were moored together. Our address sounded something like this, “Lark! Oojung! Dockweg! Tangsy Baru!” Oedjoeng was a section of the city; Dokweg was a street; Tangsi Baroe was a station in the Naval Base. When we tried to get the taxi drivers to take us to the “Whip” we could get no action. The taxi drivers would repeat, “Feepofee,” and laugh. They were amused. The Dutchmen would stare at our name wherever they saw it written. It was something strange and foreign. When the Lieutenant was on the bridge sometimes I would call out a signal to be sent to the Lark, “The Whippoorwill will do so and so and this and that.” The Lieutenant would say, “The Weeperweel, weel, weel . . . ,” and laugh. Apparently he thought the name was too large for the ship.
Our operation schedule called for our being on station at the West Gate of Surabaya half the time and in port half the time. We had two jobs when we were on station. The first task was to make a certain number of search sweeps through the West Gate mine field channel and through the approaches to the channel. The Japanese had laid mines out there. We swept none of them. The Dutch sweepers operating out there swept some. The mines that were swept were much like our own mines. These mines were all brought in and the name plate data translated by the Japanese language interpreters. In addition to these sweeping operations we had two patrol stations to fill—the Inner Patrol Station and the Outer Patrol Station.
The Inner Patrol Vessel was inside the mine field and took care of outgoing traffic, through the mine field. The Outer Patrol Vessel was on patrol on a line well to the north of the mine field. The Outer Patrol Vessel assisted with incoming traffic, met new ships bound for Surabaya and kept a lookout for submarines.
One of our first assignments with the Dutch was to sweep the channel ahead of the Marblehead and a convoy. We went out in the dusk. We remained out that night for we had only one known navigational object on which to come through the mine field.
When an air-raid alert sounded we would leave the Naval Base. The bombs were dropped on the port area or airport except for one raid which was apparently directed at the Staff Headquarters uptown. The enemy conducted these raids at will, although they usually occurred during the forenoon. We finally made a routine of going out to anchor in the road at eight in the forenoon and returning to the Naval Base at one in the afternoon, when we were in port.
When we were operating we would see the planes going in to Surabaya and coming out. We picked up a very fine gasoline tank which one of the Japanese planes dropped on the way in. It was a fuel tank made for dropping after the tank was empty. It was streamlined and well made. We turned it in to the laboratory at the Naval Base for study.
One afternoon we saw a forced landing of a plane about 15 miles northwest of the mine-field channel entrance. We went for him. It was the Dutch Flying Boat. We had quite a hard time towing it in. It was a big thing. The sea was choppy and it was windy. It got away from us at sunset in the middle of the mine field channel. We were caught half way through the channel. The Lark and a convoy were going out. They were in our way. We were close to the mine field when we recovered it. We towed it inside the mine field and turned it over to a Dutch recovery boat which had been sent to meet us.
The Lieutenant gave me a small carronade. It is similar to the lantaka of the Moros. A native of New Guinea gave it to him when his ship was in Fak Fak.
The first bombing of Surabaya was on February 3. This raid drove all of our aircraft from Surabaya airport. Our air force was always completely outnumbered. The “Eagles,” as the Japanese called their aviators, toured the country almost without opposition. I called home over the telephone that evening. This was a long talk. It was from Surabaya, Java, to Kittery, Maine.
I saw a cousin in Surabaya. He was in the submarine Pickerel. He was well but thin. He looked as if some sunlight would have been a benefit to him.
We had quite an experience when we were on a patrol. The Lark was on the inner station. The “Whip” had the outer station. One forenoon we sighted a formation of six fast sweepers to the westward of us clearing a channel. We could not identify them. We plotted them in from range-finder distances and compass bearings. We ran for the channel to get behind the mine field. My heart was going, “Potato! Potato!” On the first sweep of the sweepers, they were making enough speed to intercept us. We reported them, “Unidentified formation of sweepers clearing channel at west side West Gate, making speed fifteen knots; apparently enemy.” The Japanese swept in front of every landing beach they used in the Indies. Shortly after our report the sweepers turned away and two larger ships came into sight. We reported the maneuver and the additional ships. Eventually we reached the inside of the mine field and were able to investigate from its protection. We saw that they were Dutch mine sweepers. We reported what they were. It was quite a scare to me. The “Whip” would have been lost, had they been Japanese.
We experienced many air raids in Surabaya and saw many from the West Gate. The most dangerous air raid for us was on February 8. The Lark and “Whip” were in the Naval Base. We left the pier at the first alarm. We always backed out clear of the pier together and turned to head out the entrance before separating. That was the only way we could turn quickly in the basin. The bombs began to drop while we were together turning, for the bommenwerfers had arrived without much warning of their approach. Bommenwerfers was the Dutch word for bombers. The bombs exploded all around us. One hit in the channel ahead of the “Whip.” A type of bomb with a rod protruding from the nose was used. It exploded on contact of the rod with the water or a solid substance. We separated and got clear just in time. The “Whip” always went out first. I was senior to Count. The “Whip” was closer to the explosions ahead but the Lark was closer to the ones behind us. Our pier was hit. Some of the near-by buildings were hit. A Dutch submarine in our basin was hit.
Two days later the cruiser Surabaya was sunk at her berth at the pier. Her berth was about 100 yards from ours. We were outside operating on the day that the Surabaya was sunk.
On February 22, the “Whip” and Lark received orders to proceed to Tjlatjap by way of Sunda Strait. The Lieutenant was detached. We left Surabaya that afternoon. I left with a sad heart. I had hoped that we would be able to hold Java.
Surabaya to Tjilaljap.—The “Whip” and the Lark left Surabaya Roads on the afternoon of February 22 in time to clear the West Gate mine fields at dusk. The Japanese had control of the air, water, and under the waters of the Java Sea. The presence of their landing forces off the north coast of Java was known. The island of Sumatra was being occupied. Our best chance was'to go as directly as we could. It would make a faster passage. The most direct passage took us farther to sea. It took us away from the beach heads which the enemy apparently planned on using, and which they did use that day. The next afternoon we passed the S.S. Van Ara close aboard. She was burning. She apparently had been attacked from the air with bombs, some of which were incendiary. No lifeboats were on the ship. No survivors were observed.
We kept on toward Sunda Strait. We passed in front of Batavia the following morning. We exchanged calls with H.M.S. Exeter off Tanjong Priok. She was sunk a couple of days later in the Java Sea. We saw enemy aircraft going in and coming out. That afternoon, the 24th, we transited Sunda. Some enemy planes flew over us.
We exchanged calls with some Indies Government vessels anchored close in to Cape St. Nicholas. These vessels went directly to Australia after the big fight in the Java Sea. We saw them there later. I was glad. The Indies Government ships carried the families of the personnel aboard. The officers were Dutch. These ships did duty as a combination of our Coast Guard, Bureau of Fisheries, and other civilian activity ships of our government. About half way through Sunda Strait we exchanged calls with H.M.S. Yarra. She was headed north. She was sunk a couple of days later after the Java Sea fight.
We made the shortest passage from Sunda Strait to Tjilatjap. We arrived on the 26th and went alongside the Pecos and fueled to capacity. Tjilatjap is built on the bank of a river. The fairway is narrow. Everything was moored bow and stern. The river branches at the outskirts of town. The line of mooring buoys goes up the stream away from the city. After fueling we were sent up the river where we moored alongside the Pillsbury. We had two naval moorings. The Pillsbury and Parrott were at the one we nested in. The Whipple and Edsall were at the other mooring. The Lark moored alongside us. That afternoon and the following morning the destroyers all put to sea. The Lark got under way and anchored in the mouth of the river. The “Whip” remained in lonely grandeur as the only combatant ship in the long line of ships at the buoys. The buoys were all occupied. It was a very bad situation. About 30 large ships secured to buoys end on end. I did not like it. On the other hand I believed that I could get out, if any one could. We could not all anchor in the mouth of the river and have any traffic.
I reported to the Dutch Naval Commander of the port. He was a very obliging and very busy man. The port of Tjilatjap in normal times averaged a ship a month. Under pressure it was crowded. There were few facilities to take care of the enormous load of work put on it. The highways and byways were filled. with Australian and American troops waiting to be embarked in ships for passage to Australia.
On the afternoon of the 27th an officer from headquarters came alongside and told us that the Langley had been sunk about 30 miles south of Tjilatjap and it was desired that we search for survivors. We got under way at once and stood out. We were out before any of the ships in the mouth of the river were under way. We passed them all, as they rode to their anchors. After we cleared port we received word that the sinking had taken place 50 miles farther south than had been first reported. We made our best speed to the locality and arrived after sunset while there was still dusky light. We saw oil and airplane tires and empty lubrication oil drums, but no survivors. It turned out that two destroyers were with the Langley at the time of the attack by enemy aircraft and that the survivors had been picked up by the destroyers. The Lark and Tulsa were in the area. I assigned each to a sector to be searched until the receipt of further orders. The Asheville was also searching in the area but I never sighted her because we were darkened and visibility was poor because of many rain squalls. The four ships kept up the search until about two in the morning of the 28th.
We were ordered back to Tjilatjap, but not to enter until afternoon because of danger of bombing. I passed several merchant ships heading to the south. All the merchantmen in Tjilatjap had been taken out of the harbor at dusk and ordered to Australian ports. Only a couple of ships which were unloading war materials remained in port. We headed for a cove to the westward of Tjilatjap. We could see lightning in the rain squalls.
Shortly after four in the morning we saw some flashes of what seemed to be lightning on our starboard bow. We watched in that direction and soon after made out a light that appeared to be a lantern in a boat. We headed directly for it. We believed it might be some of the Langley survivors. Soon it could be made out as a ship on fire. I said to the O.O.D.,“Hold on to your hat! We are going in!” We approached it from the stern going down her port side. The fire was centered amidships and a little aft. No lifeboats were in sight. We had to keep way on for our greater protection against either gun or torpedo fire from whatever did this thing. No life was seen on her port side. We turned at the bow and started down her starboard side a little farther away. We saw a light flashing in the stern of the ship. We killed our way enough to put our boat in the water. They went to the stern of the ship. It was the City of Manchester of Liverpool. It had left Tjilatjap earlier that night. Our boat took off the captain, the ship’s doctor, and a few others who had remained in the ship. The captain said that our approach had been observed but no signal was made for he believed that we were the ship which had just torpedoed and shelled him and that we were coming in to sink him. The ship sank while our boat was removing the survivors. She went down by the stern. The bow lifted well clear of the water. Our boat recovered some of the men from the water after the sinking. The “Whip” had way on. As the City of Manchester sank we approached to pick up anyone that our boat did not find. We went through the roiled water but saw no one. We then saw her lifeboats and rafts clustered together at a distance from the ship. We had passed between the ship and the lifeboats on our way in to the ship without seeing them. It was now dawn. We saw the Tulsa heading in our direction. We took the survivors from our boat and sent the boat back to search in the wreckage. We went to the most distant lifeboat and began picking up survivors. Our boat returned. Her search had disclosed no more survivors in the vicinity of the wreckage. Our boat picked up the survivors from boats and rafts as she returned to the ship. A later check revealed that we had picked up every person in the City of Manchester, including one casualty. The Tulsa offered to render any assistance that we needed. We sent the casualty and ten of the wounded to the Tulsa in our boat for treatment. The wounded who had been taken aboard the “Whip” remained in the “Whip.” They were treated by their own ship’s doctor. We proceeded toward the little cove to the westward of Tjilatjap.
We entered port that afternoon and we anchored near the entrance. I made a report to the Dutch Naval Commander and the Captain made his report to the British Naval Control Officer at Tjilatjap. There were a total of 137 persons involved. All persons from the City of Manchester aboard the “Whip” were put ashore that evening.
The next morning the “Whip” and Lark were assigned to duty by the Dutch Naval Commander. We were to take turns on a station near Tjilatjap where we were to resist attempts at landing by the enemy. We did not act on these orders. They were superseded by orders from my S.O.P.A. That afternoon he ordered all United States ships to depart for any Australian port. Each ship was to proceed alone. We were to leave Tjilatjap by dusk.
A large enemy force was reported to have come through the straits between the Dutch Islands. They were pursuing the shipping which was on its way to Australia. The Pecos had been attacked and sunk off Christmas Island.
To Australia.—The “Whip” did not get under way at once. We were near the entrance. I knew the way through the mine field in the dark. A ship had been torpedoed and could be seen burning not far from the channel entrance. All United States naval vessels were out of the harbor but the Pillsbury and the Isabel when we left. I went to the eastward to take a departure. The Asheville and Tulsa also made a departure from east of the entrance. The destroyers all went south by east. The Lark went to the westward. At dark we were off our point of departure. We were again without navigational charts. We had a general chart of Australia.
We sighted what appeared to be the Isabel and the Zamdam on the night of March 2. The Zamdam had been attacked by Japanese planes on February 28 near Tjilatjap, and had entered port immediately. They passed us well astern on a southwesterly heading. Our refugees from the City of Manchester were in the Zamdam.
In the forenoon of March 3 we received a report from the Asheville that she was being attacked by a surface vessel. The first report did not specify what was attacking her. We turned and headed toward her reported position. She was 90 miles away. Then the radioman came running to the bridge with the report that she was being attacked by a surface vessel. There was no use in our going back. Any surface vessel that could successfully attack the Asheville would be too much for the “Whip.” If it were a submarine or an air attack there would be a good chance of finding some survivors. I would not be afraid of the result of an encounter with a submarine or aircraft. I would offer them a small target. They would have to come close to me in any case to make a successful attack. We would have an even chance of whipping them.
The remainder of the trip was one of existence through the southern Indian Ocean in a small ship. It was cold and choppy. We received reports that our ships were giving up the idea of using Northern Australia as a base for operations. I decided to go to a southern port.
We kept well out to sea. The chart indicated a great deal of poorly surveyed coast in that part of Australia. Houtman’s Abrolhos are there. Abrolhos was the old Portuguese navigators’ word for low, obscure islets. “Look Out!” It will be seen on charts elsewhere to mark old dangers.
We arrived at our destination on March 9. The “Whip” was the first of the slow ships which left Tjilatjap on the first of March to arrive. A fog came down on us. We anchored in Australia.