Life on a Destroyer Escort

Life on a Destroyer Escort
National Archives #80-G-321541
Photographs and Documents from Robbie's Past 1943 1946 1949 1952 1955 1958 1961 1964 1967 1970 1944 1947 1950 1953 1956 1959 1962 1965 1968 1971 1945 1948 1951 1954 1957 1960 1963 1966 1969 1972
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*NEW!!! Take a Virtual Tour* of a DE and see the "best-of-the-best" photographs.**
NEW!!! Photos depicting DE Life on USS O'Flaherty (DE-340) in WW2. Lt. Sid Morrow took the pictures (and developed them) and show the crew and equipment in perfect focus and detail. The descriptions for the photos are being transcribed from Sid's scrapbook and will be available soon. In the meantime, enjoy the pictures. If you see something familiar or remember details about the equipment or activities, please submit your comments. We especially appreciate any comments about the equipment shown in the engineering sections.
16 October 1944. "The ship left Tulagi for Palau, arriving to find that our forces were still bombing and fighting. The next destination was Ulithi to pick up more K-rations, mail, fuel and a few days of liberty on Mog-Mog. Some of the drinkers traded their beer for Coke, but unfortunately not by itself. Apparently, Aqua Velva (an after shave lotion) and coke made a palatably good drink. One Crewman recalled: "After drinking the mixture, the men looked like hell, but they smelled great." Lewis M. Andrews, Jr., Tempest, Fire & Foe, page 271. Things never change... During Desert Storm some of my troops heard the alcohol in Listerine mouthwash could be separated from the menthol flavoring by freezing. As we had no freezer, ice was substituted, salt was collected and a makeshift "ice cream machine" was fabricated out of a large round blasting cap can. In December 1991, 58 years after sailors drank Aqua Velva, my troops swilled Listerine-flavored coke. Unlike 1944, however, my soldiers still smelled bad, but they had great breath! Bill
25 May 1944. "We were still patrolling the Northern area of Okinawa when a Betty flew in and dropped its bombs on the island. It was banking to the left, directly over our picket line. It went over a ship close by and then came right over us. We opened fire, and the aircraft splashed! All hands were very excited and our skipper was elated. he called the squadron commander: 'Commander, Commander this is Bovine, Splash one Betty Bomber.' He got no response so, a few minutes later he said: ' Commander, Commander this is Bovine, Splash one Betty Bomber.' Still no response. So he again reported: 'Commander, Commander this is Bovine, Splash one Betty Bomber.' Finally, the radio came on and the talker asked: 'Bovine, is this the same aircraft you're reporting or have you shot down three tonight?" Philip D. Farrand, Plank Owner, O'Neill (DE-188) in a self-published book written for his grandchildren.
"The incident the crew enjoys reliving the most was when we were assigned the mail duty in a task force off Okinawa. We entered an anchorage and picked up the mail and proceeded to deliver it. The Captain took the conn, delivering to the first six ships, then told me to take the conn so he could take a nap. Well, I didn't do too badly on the first two deliveries but I was hot dogging it a little. The Admiral was on board the battleship Texas (BB-35), our next mail stop. When we came alongside, Manlove (DE-36) seemed to prefer going ahead instead of reversing. We rammed the side of the battleship, leaving our anchor and part of the chain on her deck. Well, I guess the navy would never let me hear the last of the starboard anchor, and what's left of our crew will never let me forget it. And my wife's nephew, Mr. Will Ball, former Secretary of the Navy, says the only reason that the navy never called me back from the Reserve was that they ran out of anchors." Al Maynard, former Executive Officer of the manning (DE-199)
"Sir, what does it take to tip this vessel over?" The Skipper said, "Ken, if you see the needle at 72 degrees and you're standing in a foot of water, start praying. That's it." "At the height of the typhoon, that needle went to 72 degrees and froze there, and we were standing in two feet of water. Believe me, I was praying." Ken Dempsey to Lt. Cdr. Fred W. Kinsley during the typhoon of December 1944. "I wasn't as worried as maybe I should've been. I was under the impression that destroyers or destroyer escorts would never sink purely as a result of the weather. But we still had mountainous waves. When the ship fell to the trough, you had the impression that you were in the Empire State Building, near the top, and the cable broke in the elevator." Lt. Cdr. Fred W. Kinsley (later) "Up to about noon on 17 December, all refueling operations were canceled. Scout planes returning to flat tops were having a rough time landing. Two planes still aloft were flagged off because it was impossible to land on the rolling, pitching deck of the carrier. Pilots, asking for instructions, got this, as heard on our TBS: 'Turn your plane loose and bail out. Destroyer will be standing by to pick you up' Back came the word from one of the pilots, 'Repeat!' As the order was repeated word-for-word, the pilot said, 'That's what I thought you said the first time!' N.W. Tashman, Jr., BM1, Author of NY Times article, 22 April 1945
18 March 1943, while trading with sailors on a Portuguese ship in Ponta Delgado, San Miguel, Azores, an important lesson was learned: "Neither the Portuguese sailors nor ourselves speak other's language, but sign language suffices. When our OD is not looking, bottles of wine were spirited across to our fantail in exchange for soap, cigarettes, tooth brushes and toothpaste. A run on the latter (and most popular) item in our ship's store was cut off from further purchase. However, the trading goes on with a new medium of exchange. One of the boys had the brilliant idea of getting tubes of prophylactic (a venereal disease preventive) from sick bay and passing them off as toothpaste. This worked well for a time until that English officer wised them up. The next bottle to come over the stern contained urine. That broke off the trading operations." Frederic Shelby Brooks, Jr., RdM2c, USS Borum (DE-790)
"It was a very dark night in mid-1943, and the Edgar G. Chase was proceeding south along the Atlantic coast, running fairly close to the shoreline. She was operating in company with two navy patrol craft (PC) vessels, searching for enemy submarines. Suddenly, a very bright light stabbed through the dark night off the starboard bow. Moving quickly from right to left, it would disappear, only to reappear intermittently. The captain of the DE, suspecting the very worst, immediately detached one of the PCs with orders to proceed dead ahead at full speed, investigate this very suspicious light and report his findings promptly. Off into the night went this little ship, quickly disappearing from view. After what seemed to be an unusually long time, a signal light began to flash in our direction- W-E H-A-V-E I-N-V-E-S-T-I-G-A-T-E-D T-H-E L-I-G-H-T I-T I-S A-N A-U-T-O-M-O-B-I-L-E A-N-D W-E A-R-E A-G-R-O-U-N-D *Elmo Allen, Radioman First Class, USS Edgar G. Chase*
*"One Destroyer Escort was dangerous, but there was one thing worse..... that was two!"* *Detlev Zimmerman, U-315*
"In the Western Pacific so not I'm a DE sailor. Full fledged one. Drenched from head to foot with salt water. Sleep with a leg crooked around my rack so I won't fall out. Put wet bread under my dinner tray to keep it from sliding. And you don't know what a DE sailor is? A DE, my friends, is a Destroyer Escort. It's a ship long and narrow and sleek, along the lines of a destroyer. But it's much smaller. It's a baby destroyer. It is the answer to the problems of colossal amounts of convoying; amounts so huge that we simply hadn't the time to build full-fledged destroyers to escort them all. The DE is the result. They are rough and tumble little ships. Their after-decks are laden with depth charges. They can turn in half the space of destroyers. Their forward guns sometimes can't be used because of waves breaking over them. They roll and they plunge. They buck and they twist. They shudder and they fall through space. Their sailors say they should have flight pay and submarine pay both because they're in the air half the time, under the water the other half. I came back from the Northern waters on a DE. When a wave comes over and you get soaked, a sailor laughs and says. "Now you're a DE sailor." It makes you feel kind of proud. And I did not get seasick! I better have my stomach examined." Ernie Pyle, War Correspondent, Ulithi, 1945 Killed by machine gun fire on Ie Shima during the final days of WW II. Buried at the Punchbowl National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific, Section D, #109..
"Back in Ulithi, we moored next to a large supply ship and our Chief Boatswain's mate noted that they were disposing of a huge manila cargo net. In those days, fenders were made of woven manila and were in short supply. He asked the supply ship if they would pass the net to us and they were only too glad to comply. When they dropped that cargo net on our forward deck, hundreds of cockroaches scurried out, down and into the inner compartments of the ship. From then on, we had roaches on that ship like you wouldn't believe. When I arose in the morning, i would open my locker and there were at least six of them sitting on my towel. I had all my shaving gear in an empty wood cheese box. I would take out my razor, shave lotion, shaving soap, tip the box upside down on the deck, and stomp all the bugs with my foot. We sprayed the after sleeping compartment. All that did was chase the roaches up the degaussing cable forward. The men forwarded decided to spray too. That sent the roaches back aft again. We never got rid of them. Philip D. Farrand, Plank Owner, O'Neill (DE-188) in a self-published book written for his grandchildren. Things never change.... While stationed on Johnston Island in the Pacific, a cargo ship infested the island with cockroaches. We sprayed. We baited. No effect. Then I discovered the damn things had eaten the glue bindings out of all my books! I bought every can of Raid in the PX and saturated my small quarters. Because Johnston Island stockpiled chemical munitions and I was the Operations Officer, I had to submit to a monthly blood test. A drop in my cholinesterase level would indicate exposure to a nerve agent, considered to be a bad thing. Shortly after my Raid attack on the book-eating roaches, the blood test showed a dramatic drop in my cholinesterase level, causing a panic in the head shed. It never even occurred to me that bug spray was diluted nerve agent. I never got rid of the roaches either. As far as I know, they still roam the island. Bill
In his wonderful book "The Captain Class Frigates in the Second World War", Donald Collingwood (Royal Navy, Retired) describes the "luxury" found on the DEs from a uniquely British perspective: "Without any exaggeration, it must be said that, as far as living space and comfort are concerned, USN ships of 1943 were at least twenty years in advance of contemporary British ships. To begin with, every man had his own bunk and the chore of lashing up and stowing hammocks was a thing of the past in the Destroyer Escorts." "Meals were taken from the galley into a servery complete with dish-washing machines, ice cream makers and coffee percolators, where dutymen serviced the meals onto compartmentalized trays for individual collection by the men. One of the most astounding discoveries was that the ships even had small but efficient laundries. Many years would pass after the war before British Destroyers had any other facility than galvanized buckets in primitive bathrooms in which lower deck men could do their laundry. Other strange luxuries were iced water drinking fountains in the mess decks and reasonably sized steel lockers in place of the ridiculously small and inaccessible seat locker found on British Destroyers." "on the starboard side there were the living quarters which, apart from the usual mess table and seats, were furnished with an armchair and settee, a sideboard, complete with pop-up toaster and a coffee percolator and, wonder of wonders, a large domestic-type refrigerator, the like of which was unknown outside wardrooms in British ships!" Yes, I got your messages.... Ships don't have a "Kitchen". They have a "Galley". Sorry. Takin' a ride...onto (or off of) the USS Hemminger (DE 746) Courtesy of Robert E. Taylor, Email: taylor794@msn.com	Bunks from a DE Bunks on the USS Bowfin Infamous Ice Cream Machine Stoves from the USS Stewart (DE238). Galley from the USS Stewart (DE238) Galley from the USS Kidd (DD-661) Galley Sink from the USS Stewart (DE238)
On the downside, and in typical British fashion, Mr. Collingwood had this to say about the bathroom facilities: "On the port side, beyond the passageway, was the bathroom. This contained wash basins and shower stalls and was the most primitive toilet facility ever seen. This consisted of a simple two-seater trough, without even a canvas screen in front to conceal its user from their shipmates using the basins or showers. Everyone had been highly delighted and impressed to find messing arrangements so superior to any in contemporary British ships, but were utterly bemused by the fact that the Americans should have so much luxury and then spoil it with this primitive 'thunder trough'! Fortunately, more civilized arrangements were provided in due course. During the subsequent mini-refit at Belfast, the trough was removed and a properly enclosed WC was fitted."	"Two Seater trough" from the USS Stewart (DE238) "Trough" from the USS Kidd (DD661). Notice the red "Hotseat." This was for "sick" seamen, i.e. with a venereal disease. Standard Gray "pisser" from the USS Stewart. Standard steel sinks from the USS Stewart.
"It ain't how much this baby rolls (a 60 degree roll in DEs was not unusual), its how fast she rolls that makes ya sick." - Unknown.
The Robinson was my first ship and I was a crewmember starting at the pre-commissioning detail in Philadelphia and was aboard until we returned to the States shortly after VE Day. An interesting story that might amuse you: When we first put out to sea, a crew member named Velete (?) suffered from acute sea-sickness and earned the nickname "Horizontal". He became seasick almost as soon as the ship left the dock, but seldom complained. He stood his watches red-eyed and pale carrying a bucket which was ever available when he lost control. When not on watch he contrived to lie in his bunk - hence the nickname. The Pharmacist Mate tried to ease his misery by concocting various "remedies" - to no apparent avail. One day "Horizontal" asked the Pharmacist mate to give him some more of his latest concoction. "Why? Did it help?" he was asked. Horizontal replied "No, but it tasted pretty good coming back up." I'm happy to report that he was transferred to shore duty eventually. Joe C. McGee, Francis M. Robinson (DE-220)
One other story, which I am sure you have heard, happened in early July of '44, near the end of our cruise with the Bogue, not far from New York. A periscope sighting was reported (later reported as doubtful) and shortly thereafter one of the ships screws struck - or was struck by - an unidentified object. It was believed at first that we had been hit by a "dud" torpedo but later it was decided that we had hit an "uncharted shoal". I happened to be in the ships after-steering compartment at the time, directly above the impact area. The shock was strong enough to knock me off my feet and shatter several light bulbs in the compartment. To me it sounded like metal on metal, and I still believe that it was no "uncharted shoal". But then, no one ever asked my opinion. Joe C. McGee, Francis M. Robinson (DE-220)
I just spent a wonderful hour on the USS F. M. Robinson website. Have forwarded your email to me, to my brother John. Johnny was a Radioman aboard during some of the time period I served as Ship's Yeoman...(Feb '48 - Mar 52). A wonderfully memorable four years of my Navy career! Went aboard at age 19 as a Y3c. Reenlisted aboard her when I was 21, as a Yeoman First Class...hadn't earned my first hash mark even. I had the privilege of attending "YNB" School in San Diego while aboard the Robinson. Thanks to some forward thinking Executive Officer. Can't recall if it was Lt. John Bock, Lt. Cornelius E. McMullen or Lt. Ralph Monger, but he formulated my life as a career in that decision to let me, as a YN1, attend the 20-wk course. I graduated 2nd in my class, (a quarter of a point below being the 1st). I had never attended any Navy school prior to being promoted to that grade. I left her for a tour of recruiting duty in Springfield, MA. My fondest memories were about LCDR. Joseph Rayburn and LCDR Adelbert A. Evers....the two COs after LCDR George W. French. Skipper Rayburn and his wife made daily visits (when we were in port) to my wife's bedside at the County Hospital...she had been stricken with Polio. And Skipper Evers "privileged" me by being his chauffeur during the 1952 Mardi Gras in New Orleans....I was the only crewmember with a Navy Driver's License. We had been assigned a Navy car to transport the Skipper to various social dinners and dances. I had already received my orders to attend Recruiter's School in San Diego, when I asked the Captain if I could make this last cruise to the Mardi Gras before being detached. My relief Yeoman was already aboard, and I had hoped to enjoy the festivities to the max...to sort of top-off my 4-year tour aboard. I recall having been placed under arrest by the Skipper for "grand larceny; theft of a government vehicle". To make the story short, I was given a "Warning" when all the circumstances were aired out at Captain's Mast. I wonder if their are any members living who remember those events. Mr. Monger saved my butt on that one. That's my story and I'm stickin' with it. Best regards....Norm Gignac, YNC, USN (Ret.). (It was 45 years ago in Aug 2000 when I joined, and I've been retired for 25 years. I sure love that retirement check each month). Norm G. Gignac, Francis M. Robinson (DE-220), who can be emailed at normgee2@juno.com
Think you're having a bad day? Try to imagine how the crew of the Deane (K-551, formerly DE-86) felt. Again, from Collingwood's book: "...her A/S (anti-submarine) crew were jubilant to pick up a very definite submarine contact. With great confidence, they delivered a textbook Hedgehog attack and there was an explosion as the bombs hit something. There were rousing cheers a moment later when a submarine hastily broke the surface but these cheers soon turned to groans of dismay as they recognized the submarine as one of ours! Shaken and indignant, the CO of the submarine lost no time in making a blistering signal to his Flag Officer and Deane was unceremoniously ordered back to Plymouth for a Board of Inquiry".
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