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It took a long time for the message to sink in. As the signalman repeated each word slowly to me, there could be no doubt that the flotilla commander had just made me captain of our tank landing ship (LST).
I didn’t have to ask “Why me?’’ I knew why. I was senior. I, the junior officer on board the ship, was senior. How had this happened—and at the worst possible time—as we were on our way to an invasion?
My name and number had come up because I was the navigator and the two officers senior in title to me—the commanding officer and the executive officer—were hors de combat, to put it delicately.
The former executive officer had buttered the captain’s light brown toast for the last time the night before. The executive officer had been transferred off the ship on a medical. It had taken him months to convince the doctors to transfer him. The rest of us on board were convinced of his instability from the day he arrived. He was a hell of a good civilian meat salesman who, as an officer, might have won the war for the enemy if he’d had the chance to lead our troops in combat.
The exec’s abrupt departure may have been the straw that broke our captain’s back. One moment he was himself—supersailor, a skilled navigator, a strict disciplinarian—and the next moment he didn’t even know his own name. His mind gone, he stared into space and had to be physically restrained. Until that moment when his light suddenly, inexplicably went out, we had found him to be a man hard to socialize with but easy to admire. All of us knew
jted1,1
that more than one of his decisions had res our being alive. Now, he was nobody’s ene his own. . r M
Navy regulations stated that the navigf .or ot third in line of succession so I, the most Ju gitf junior reservists, was given a responsibility (iis regular officer in the Navy would have g1 eyeteeth to have.
Never mind that I had been given the title ^
igator only because the captain had no c.°nte_____ of'
in the executive officer’s ability to navig Si obviously, any awareness that I knew evel\aIidi|1- There it was, then. I had the title—-com M
officer—and I had the conn. There was no apF’ a|e“
I apP
the matter to the flotilla commander, so
,iT
to my senior officers. I urged anyone who
the job to step forward and say those maglC “I relieve you, sir.” Each, in his own Patn<^ foil0'' found a way to refuse. But all volunteered 0 me to the ends of the earth. g® ,
What’s in a name? My brother °ff*c *Lr w showed me as, building up their courag^ f historians might dub “The Wiener War, alie , sured me that they knew that, in the invasio . nO
I could “cut the mustard,” but they to be too much of a hot dog.
urged
ntf1
Alone and lonely at the top, I pondered . mand. Clearly, they were a bunch of craZ'
leader
crazy enough to play follow the - j leader—even me. I wished at the time tha write well enough to immortalize afl1’ them—officer and enlisted. I never tried ^ /
the war, poor, doomed Tom Heggen did
co11 .11 ‘
72
Proceedings
/Septet
aifCers ha !Vey revealed that not one of the ship’s J Seen (k ever practiced that procedure. We had ,'lted jn t? Sa'P being anchored. We all had partic- ahation 'p,procedure but had never directed the t0aarbor aae .sb*P had always been anchored in rr>aneuvS a s*ng'e un't with space galore, space erand then safely drop the anchor. Never
a*’°ut cm . Roberts—to tell Americans
ertsvV’ouHkUSt ™ne- The fictional Doug Rob- The dehave felt right at home on board our LST. 1° ^ober,S^ript’ons °f the reserve officers assigned b tly onpS S Reluctant could have fitted peri °berts's0fmore °f my fellow officers. Lieutenant dfess or i.CVaracterizations of his shipmates, their jN aPatli same’ attitudes, abusive language, '^e °f th ^ Were more truth than fiction. At any best fr-e aa^ or n*ght Roberts could have joined 0fresteerlenf and me as we sacked in, assisted ° °ne of m ^ laundry officer, or smelled the results .L°°kjn ® ship's many operative stills.
2Uation Lback' 1guess I was able to cope with the 3 to beecause< as captain, I alone knew that I v c°nvnre Ieved °f my responsibility as soon as ilniPle: sty reached its objective. It would be so l^r, WelP tke en8'nes> drop the hook, lower the a lV°uid thCOrne l^e Permanent new captain aboard. navjga^a retUrn to my status of junior officer
q*P Piess- ^a^s'mple until they handed me the all- a°d helDd®e anchor at short stay in formation." A^ship. \vt? ’ ^ **ad never anchored this ship—or ^ilaick ' hoever heard of anchoring in formation?
had any of us been surrounded fore, aft, port, and starboard with other convoy ships which were loaded with men and machinery straining to enter battle. There had to be a Navy way to end up 500 yards in the middle of the other four ships. As an officer and leader, I was in deep, deep trouble. Clear the bridge. Lieutenant Ollie was ordered to the bridge to assist the young captain.
I stood on the bridge as if in complete charge of the situation. Except for Ollie I stood alone. In the best Charles Laughton/Captain Bligh tradition I sent crisp commands to the helmsman below; I alerted the anchor detail forward; I sent instructions to the engine room. What I really did was to repeat verbatim the proper words Ollie read to me from his copy of Knight’s Modern Seamanship. This instructive book was carefully hidden from the crew’s view. As they say in the Navy: We were doing it by the book. Whatever the book said—however the book said it—we did it. Word for word we followed the proper Navy way to anchor an LST in formation. Splash. We dropped the anchor. The anchor splashed and the LST was positioned as per orders—500 yards from all surrounding ships. I’m sure the former captain would have saluted my ability and the executive officer would have been proud to butter my toast. If I performed no other act as captain, I was glad not to have created a certain calamity for the invasion force. Ollie smiled with me. With the anchor at short stay I closed the book, and he hid the Navy “bible.” We both returned to our normal breathing.
'Ifis /
September
1981
73