Essex Association Sea Stories Main

Hey guys, this story goes back 50 years. I was looking around the Internet and thought I would look up my old ship. The web site asked for some stories and this one I’ll always remember came to me and I composed what you will read. Ho hum......but I thought since I spent some time writing the story, I thought I would share it with you.

My name is Edward J Meier; USMC Cpl. assigned to the Essex, and served 30 months. (1959) I lived among some of the finest men to serve Uncle Sam. I was the orderly for Capt. Christopher, served as a guard at the brig. Most of all served as part of a wonderful group of men whose memories are faded. However I have a warm story that I will live with me until my dying day. ......Our ship was on its way back from Formosa, stopping at Singapore and then off to Cape Town, South Africa. I did become a" Shellback”. Before I was just a "pollywog". Our Lt. had his arm broken during that little ceremony. Kissed the belly of a big fat sailor, his belly smeared with all kinds of garbage. But I did it. The sailors really enjoyed "beating our asses." Anyway getting back to my story, when we arrived at Capetown we tied up to the dock. First U.S. warship or anyway an aircraft carrier in many of year. I was assigned to guard the Officer's gangway. I stood at "parade rest" and advised by the O.D. that only officers and persons accompanied by officers were to go up that gangway. Meanwhile at the other end of the ship, hundreds of people where lined up to come aboard. What ever happened down there I don't know but I saw the people being hosed by unknown people as if a riot was going on. Very few officers; were coming aboard at the officers gangway. A family with mom, dad, and 3 little kids came up to me and asked if they could use this gangway. I gave them permission to go aboard. Next thing I know, the O.D. was screaming at me and said “officers and persons accompanied by officers are the only one's permitted to use this gangway”. I said, "Yes sir" and resumed my duties. Shortly there after, a little old lady dressed in black with her dress down to her ankles came up to me and said she would like to see our "boat". I said, “Only officers and persons accompanied by officers are allowed to use this gangway” This little old lady looked up at me and said "Son, I’m accompanied by the Lord of all Lords, the King of all Kings”, I said, "Who's that". She said "Jesus Christ”. I said go right up that gangway and tell the guy at the top the same story you just told me. That little old lady never came back down and neither did the O.D.

After 60+years I'm a little more than PO'd at the War time documentary's that have been on TV and sold by TV networks. They clam they are going to show us what it was like to be in a war. They may do a good job on the ground troops, I don't know because I have no knowledge of that kind of warfare, but life on a ship I know about. Every job on the ship was important even if it was just a job standing by and knowing what to do when you are called on. In 1944 I once stood by holding a sledge hammer for 2 hours waiting for the order to hit the breakaway chain link that would let the anchor chain drop to the bottom of Ulithi lagoon. It was at Ulithi Atoll Nov. 20 1944 We thought a two man sub had gotten into the anchorage because a Tanker, the Mississinew had been torpedoed at day break. All the ships in the Lagoon were prepared to drop there anchor chain so they could get underway without waiting to haul anchor which would take up to a half hour and end up with a lot of mud in the chain locker. In case we dropped the chain we attached a buoy to it so we could locate it later. I got the "stand by" job because I spoke up when I should have shut up. Everyone was having trouble pronouncing or spelling the name Mississinew. I was familiar with it because the Mississinew was a river that ran through my hometown of Marion Indiana. I believe it was named by a tribe of Miami Indians it was the center of there lives and the center of interest for all us boys growing up. I offered my expertise to the Boatswain's mate and as you know, a good deed never goes un punished. Good the Boatswain said, you’re the man to stand by with this, and handed me a 12 Lb. sledgehammer. After 20 minutes he said I could rest it on the deck then in an hour he said I could sit on the capstan, Later he said I could be relieved but I declined the offer. By that time I had decided I would be proud to be in the chain of events leading to our safety by getting us underway without delay. What did I know? I had just turned 18 a few weeks before. After a few hours it was decided there was no danger. The two man sub had escaped. Now years later I find out, thanks to the computer and google The U.S.S. Mississinew had been sunk by a Japanese secret weapon called the Kaiten. A suicide torpedo with a one man guidance system in it. It was probably small enough to go through the submarine net. There were 63 men lost that day. Of all this tension and drama going on all over the ship and the documentaries only show pictures of muzzle blast. Which is less than half a second and they show mostly night time shots on cruisers and battle wagons to get a larger, brighter flash. Have you ever seen men handling the ammunition, or how those guns get loaded, who aims the gun, who orders it to fire? Where do they sleep, where do they eat? Hundreds of times I have seen Quad 40's loaded and fired. There is something about that scene they like in Hollywood where I am guessing most of the documentaries are put together. I have never seen a 20MM loaded nor a 5'' loaded or even seen the inside of our 5'' twin gun mounts. You seldom see a scene in a shipboard documentary that is longer than 3 seconds. The average scene is 2 seconds and less. We have all seen the F6F that hits the aft gun mount or the Island and broke in half behind the cockpit. The pilot was OK but did you see him get out of the plane and walk way? I'm sure the cameraman didn't say, "The excitement is over" then shut his camera off. He probably followed the pilot until he was out of sight. When the cameraman is shooting, he is trying to tell a story. I'm sure every scene you see in a documentary was 5 to 20 seconds long when it went into the archives. The film editor is the culprit. He pictures himself as a director or film editor on a big Hollywood war film. To get noticed he decides he will make this the most exciting war picture ever. They were told in film school that to build excitement You make scenes shorter and shorter. They figure "I'll just make all the scenes short and have a really exciting movie" They don't know that people don't watch a war documentary to be excited, they want to see what fighting a war looks like. Out side of diving on an enemy ship that is throwing everything they have at you, or if you are in a dogfight, fighting the enemy from the decks of an aircraft carrier has to be the most exciting wartime experience there is. I don't need some dummy in an editing booth using every trick he learned in film school to make it exciting for me. I want to see what others were doing while I had my head down loading my AA gun, thinking just one more round may be the one that knocks the Jap out of the sky. The nearly 3000 men were not put on the Essex to twiddle there thumbs during a sea battle, I think they have the right and expectation to have the public see that there job was important and in many cases did save there ship. Cooks, bakers, laundry workers, barbers, and yeomen all had their jobs during general quarters. Their main job was fire fighting and damage control. The ship was our mother, father and brothers. I would like to see someone pull a lot of combat camera film from the archives and make a realistic film about life on a warship. Not unlike "The Fighting Lady” but a lot more realistic. In other words not have the Captain shouting orders to the Air dales on how to re spot the deck. "The Fighting Lady” was not a bad film it was just not very informative. It was made to bolster confidence and patriotism at home. In that respect it was an effective film. But could be improved on with a little reality.

Jack Ormsby was First Powder man on Gun # 4 when the Essex was hit by a Kamikaze attack. Following is Jack’s first hand account of what he experienced that day.

I observed the Kamikaze attack from my vantage point about 90 feet forward of the hit. I was standing on the ramming gear housing of gun 4. My head stuck up just far enough to see everything until the fireball was less than 60 feet in diameter. It seemed quite small.

Many pictures of it make it look like the explosion takes in the entire island structure, it is misleading. If you examine movies of it you will see it is all smoke and the ship moves into the smoke. The picture was lifted from a frame of motion picture film and they picked a frame that looked the most dramatic. Sorry gang but that's show biz. I only had to duck a few inches when I saw black fragments of the airplane coming at me and it all went over my head. After it was all over and we came back to the gun we found the upper half of the Kamikaze pilot lying on the deck between guns 2 and 4. His parachute was out of it's pack under him which became a shroud when two gun crew members used it to pick up the body and keep blood off there hands while they heaved it over the side.

You can see the explosion for yourself; get a CD of "Victory at Sea Go" to Volume 25 "Suicide For Glory". When you come to the Kamikaze hitting Essex, click one frame at a time. At 24 frames per second you will count about 36 frames meaning that the explosion lasts about one and a half seconds. When the flash starts dimming the explosion is over the rest is just smoke. Then you will see Essex move into that smoke, that takes another 36 frames, one and half seconds more. At that time the Island looks engulfed in an explosion when it is just engulfed in smoke. Not to minimize the damage and killing I just want to show that reading history is not like being there. Even pictures do not tell the whole story.

I can attest to the fact that the 20 MM gunners fired into the Judy until it plowed into them. In spite of what the history books report it did not kill all the Black gunners instantly. Four of the Black gunners walked to the Marine manned 40 MM gun mount that set between the 20 MM battery and Gun # 4.

The man leading the others was black and large around 6 Ft, Big for that day. Much of his black skin was hanging which was just a thin veneer. Under that his skin was as white as mine. I was a very white red head. The big guy asked me where the battle dressing station was and I led them to it only about 15 ft. away just off our gun deck. If we had been required to wear flash gear the way Captain. Roscoe Bowman demanded I believe all four of them would have lived. They died within minutes while waiting to be taken care of. They were taken out on stretchers in that sitting position.

Don't believe any stories of trying to pick someone up and the flesh coming off the bone. The flash of an explosion is only a fraction of a second. It would take 20 minutes in a microwave to cook flesh that much. That is why that thin metallic woven flash gear will protect you, but only for seconds.

I didn't see the fire that destroyed the tire repair shop. I did however walk past it going to the mess hall less than an hour later. Except for that one spot there wasn't fire damage anywhere on the hangar deck, not even water damage. There were a couple of F6F's with there fabric covered control surface burned but I was told by Damage control that one of the men from the loading room that loaded magazines for the 20 MM's rode the deck plate that opened down like a sardine can lid dumping a man through the open hanger deck curtain. He was on fire and ran across the hanger deck and jumped off the starboard side. I can't swear to that story because I didn't see it but I did see the burned elevator and rudder surfaces as the burning man touched them weaving through the planes spotted forward on the hanger deck.

I cannot swear to this but I believe that the 20 MM guns were the only guns firing although A Five-inch gun mount #1 got off one round less than a second before the Kamikaze hit. Probably in panic or a feeling that someone should do something, I would not have been standing on top of gun 4 if we had been on red alert. I often stood there to watch the activity on the flight deck. I was an airplane nut and got one of my own more than 10 years later.

Tom writes "I was in the U.S. Navy from March 4, 1959 to March 3, 1963. I was in air squadron VS-34 and was attached to the USS Essex in 1962 and 1963". Following is Toms Navy Anthology

IN THE BEGINNING, A CAVEAT!

This collection is not going to be an exercise is well-ordered composition, carefully erected for maximum impact, no! These tales, vignettes, are a series of reminiscences loosely held together by the fabric of the mind. The accuracy is subjective, incidents, rumored or factual in themselves now seen dimly through decaying synapses or perhaps more rightly the selective filtering of the adult ego looking at the adventures of a man-child at 17, somewhat precocious but fouled up. These Sea Stories, all of which involve the aircraft carrier USS Essex during World Was II, are based on incidents and fairly factual, but not with the accuracy that 40 years of professional newspaper work would demand. For that I apologize, or do I? They are written in self-satisfaction for me and the few of my generation, particularly shipmates, who remain around to appreciate them.

Jonas Mather EM3/c, Spring 2007

ULITHI LAGOON, November, 1944 -- What a hell of a night it was. A gang of fleet replacements bound for the USS Essex had disembarked from the transport S.D. Sturgis in the afternoon to a minesweeper which was the ferry us to our new home. The Japs decided to make the journey memorable by setting loose a midget sub in the lagoon. We spent a long twilight and dark night cruising in circles to confuse us if not the enemy. Not a shot was fired nor ashcan dropped. Welcome to the terror and boredom of World War II.

The ship’s work seemed to rate far above any reception of replacements, so most of our first day aboard was spent on the hangar deck by the ship’s incinerator. The USS Ajax was alongside, completing repairs on the port side amidships where a kamikaze had wiped out one or more 20mm batteries and damaged Number 2 elevator. Most of us after commenting on the damage went to sleep which any good sailor will do whenever he gets a chance.

Late in the day a PPO showed up and shepherded us to the electrical workshop where the baby beef show began. Station officers and chiefs interviewed candidates for slots on the watch quarters and station bill. I drew IC and that was to give me a wonderful chance to go just about anywhere and see and hear most everything. I did, and what follows is some of it. Where there is a possibility of embarrassment to someone still surviving, I have tried to err to the side of caution. Let the Sea Stories be

Of Brass and Men

In the spring of ‘45 Cmdr. Fitzhugh Lee, later to be elevated to a much more august rank, Vice Admiral, was damage control officer aboard Essex and posted to a compartment adjacent to Central Station, which he engulfed in waves of an aromatic pipe tobacco. ‘Twas said the stuff was blended especially for him in some obscure Virginia tobacco town. Credible, for Lee was an FFV and a rumored descendant of the great Robert E. A real cool cat, nobody ever shattered his stolid, phlegmatic calm. No Jap attack more than raised his eyebrows, or so said his admiring DC crew. So enter Ensign Quirk (a phony name), newly aboard, full of himself and a regulation pain-in-the-ass to the enlisted men. His officiousness drew a warning response, not unusual aboard Essex, to “stay clear of the forecastle and fantail after dark,” a threat he felt he could not ignore. He took his case to Lee, explaining it in much detail and ending, “ I just don’t know what to do, sir. What shall I do?"

Cmdr. Lee drew himself up in his chair, drew heavily on his pipe and blew thick cloud of aromatic smoke, relaxed and said quite casually, “Stay clear of the forecastle and fantail after dark.”

Snippet--In ‘45 Essex left Ulithi for its longest cruise, one that included the land and sea battle for Okinawa Jima. During that campaign casualties, including the USS FRANKLIN stretched the fleet. The draw on supplies was heavy. The result was too much counterfeit chili, hydraulic spuds, and more weevils in the bread than flour. Greens were short, fruit non-existent - at least in the general mess -- and raw potatoes traded at a premium in the cumshaw market.

I was tending sound power lines at the flight-deck forward fueling station. A Jg was observing, and we carried on a conversation, commiserating ourselves on the depravations of the inordinately long cruise. “Yep,” he says, “things are getting really tough. Why just the other day they cut out the officers’ apples.“

More Snippets -- This one has hair on it, but it is said to have happened on Essex.

Refueling was underway and the smoking lamp was out. But a Camel burned at the edge of a spitkit. Nearby was a compartment cleaner at work. “That your butt, sailor,“ asked a passing chief.

“Not mine, chief. You saw it first.”

The Judy swooped down between Essex and Wasp on our portside, amidships. Wasp’s 40s opened up, raking our hangar deck and wounding a few crewmen, one of whom rose to his feet as the firing ceased: “Stateside, stateside,” he cried as he ran toward the nearest hatch and the relative safety of below decks.

The Typhoon of December 1944 was almost upon us as Essex topped off tin cans before the full rage of the storm. The course was difficult to hold; parallel it definitely wasn’t. We heaved, pitched, yawed and occasionally seemed to lose steering control. Deckhands tried valiantly to keep the span lines taut. A line let go, whipping across the deck and around the limbs of a hapless crewman and pulling him into the drink. Surely he drowned, or at least I thought he did and believed that for at least 40 years. Jack Yeager’s diary, published elsewhere in these pages, finally set me straight. He lived. How the rescue succeeded in those stormy seas is a mystery. Does anyone know the full story?

First Time on the Bridge: Tom Schwartzkoph and I were checking and servicing gyro repeaters. It was the routine sort of a day when Capt. Carlos W. Weiber felt relaxed and conversational and had the time to engage in it. He asked the usual folksy questions. I answered, formally and stiffly. As the skipper’s attention was diverted to something else, the helmsman gave me a hard nudge with his hip. ”What’s with all those ‘Sirs’? Whatta ya want to do, spoil him?“

CV What?

We sailed from Leyte in July of ‘45 under a new captain, Capt. Roscoe L. Bowman, who previously, so it was said, had skippered a jeep job and run a rather tight ship. And that meant regulation trouble for Essex. Earrings, haircuts, white hats topside, watch that grab-ass. Edicts poured from the bridge like marching orders for Marine boots. Nobody appreciated Bowman’s efforts to turn us into “real sailors.“ Anyway it was much too late.

Anonymous and uncomplimentary phone calls flooded bridge and exec’s office. Pilots switched their affirmatives from Roger to “Roscoe.” In general in a spirit of rebellion, if not outright mutiny, the crew grew surly. Jobs got done, but not with the verve of the old Essex.

Then the pivotal transition moment. One morning on the Island structure forward there appeared in large chalked letters: “USS Essex CVE 8 1/2”.

Things quieted down after that, and Capt. Bowman got a chance to see his crew in action off the coast of Japan and on until the end of the war. The great moment came as we cruised the Great Circle on our way home in September 1945. The skipper took the ship’s MC (amplifier system) and for what seemed 15 minutes praised us as “the greatest crew I‘ve ever sailed with.”

Of Booze and Broads

The Navy is ambivalent to alcohol. It‘s blue-nosed about the subject of booze aboard ship. Rightly so. Drunken crews are not fighting crews. Sometimes, however, it benefits both brass and men to cast a blind eye on the subject such as happened on occasion aboard Essex.

Women visitors on the other hand were always welcomed. But just how many women were there at Iwo, Okinawa, or for that matter Leyte Gulf?

Christmas, 1944, comes to mind. We were anchored in Ulithi for replenishment and re-supply, and, of course, Christmas dinner in the general mess, if you could escape from your working party to eat it. There was a certain Joie de vivre (SP) in Officers Country and lacking elsewhere, except where other provisions had been made like in a certain engineering space where a still chugged merrily along, cooled by CO2 from fire bottles -- until they and the distillate ran out. The shipfitters, ‘twas said, were attending the party. “We’ll fix this” said a couple of them disappearing through a passageway. They did.

Half-hour or so later they arrived with a supply of Medical Stores Alcohol. Some say two cases. They had torched their way into the storage locker, removed the goods, and like the best of Essex sailors proceeded to their assigned jobs. They welded it back up.

And nary a word was ever said.

Candy Jones was a New York model of glamorous reputation and, apparently, sponsored by the USO to visit Pacific fleet sailors. We heard she was coming at least a day before she arrived, so the crew was well prepared to follow and ogle, which we did. She had such a large following that you could check her port and starboard movement with an inclinometer. She also was off limits to enlisted personnel, except the chosen few for news pictures.

Commander S. L. Ward, chief engineer and a consummate tinkerer, enthusiastically tried to invent the dollar bill changing machine years before its time. He loved gadgets and had a squawk box connected for his convenience between his quarters and the log room. To those quarters he lured Miss Jones inadvertently leaving the squawk box turned on. Quite a crowd gathered to hear the rumored scion of the Montgomery Ward millions put the make on Candy. The show ended when he found the switch on and shut it off. To this day some of us wonder how he made out.

Fearless Freddie

That's what we called Rear Admiral Frederick Charles Sherman who commanded Task Groups 38-3 and 58-3 from Essex. Actually he was anything but, although a cautious strategic fighter and considerate of his men, Sherman was a bulldog (sorry Halsey) when it came to carrying the fight to the enemy. He projected an attitude an acceptance of situational realities that endeared him to his men, a real cool cat.

Sherman commanded the old Lexington during the Battle of the Coral Sea. When she took that final fish, he called for damage control reports and probabilities of survival. They were unanimously negative.

"Let's get the hell off this old firetrap," he said, ordering abandon ship. They argue how much that reduced casualties and the order seemed to violate the Navy's don't-give-up-the-ship tradition dating to the Revolutionary War. John Paul Jones would have been appalled. But Sherman's men cheered; more importantly, their lives were saved to fight another day.

Salty Dog

March 1945 was a particularly perilous time for the fleet. The Japs had refined their Kamikaze tactics and were plastering our carriers despite vigorous air defense by ship's batteries and CAP. The days were long. Mostly we were at GQ. One-Easy was about the only relief to the tension. Everybody was nervous and some downright irritable. Sherman was on the Flag Bridge with staff officers "Rough Day, Admiral," one of them said.

"Yep," Sherman replied. "Orderly, where the hell's the salt for my apple?"

Parade Rest

Frenchy (O.J. LaForrest Em3/c) was from Fall River, Mass., which must be quite a flamboyant town if the garb and actions of one of its previous citizens proves an example. I say previous because I find no entry for him in the current white pages,. and there seems to be only one LaForrest listed elsewhere, a woman apparently. In 1945 as the crew of the Essex was going "Asiatic" Frenchy was going over the top. Multi-colored plastic handled sheath-knives were in. He had one about 14 inches long strapped to his side like a pirate's cutlass. Jeep caps were in with the few who would wear hats willingly. He had one. Beards and mustaches? He wore a wax-tipped handle-bar, no whiskers. Earrings became a fad. He wore one. In short Frenchy was a beachcomber's fashion plate when wave dungarees were added to the mix. As such he drew Flag attention. It happened on a June day in Leyte Gulf.

Sherman was no spit-and-polish type, but admiral's inspections must have been required. Sherman's were completely in his style. Hanger-deck quarters, dungarees, and hats were required. That was all. Perhaps the duty was onerous, for Sherman, himself garbed in a leather flight jacket with an OD jeep cap, sped through the ranks like a midget race car. Almost. He passed O.J., logged about ten more feet, then came about. The confrontation was brief:

"You're an eccentric little son of a bitch. Aren't you,." said the admiral doing a right about and continuing on his way.

Blowing a Fuse

The war over and the Essex was in drydock at Bremerton, Wash. Still considered a ship of the line, she had a full four-striper in command, Capt. Laurence O. Mathews Jr., although in the yardbird created disarray about us we seldom saw him.

The captain liked his coffee early and often, but he had a Joe-pot in his quarters that was infested with a chronic, erratic bug. Frequent calls to the electrical workshop were of little avail. The best brains in the shop worked it over, practically rebuilt it, but it was still utterly unreliable.

Why it wasn't replaced is a mystery. So at least twice a week I would be called to change the fuses and get the coffee perking as the captain fretted, over the delay.

The light dawned. "Sir," I said," Why don't I show your steward the fuse box and give him a puller and new fuses? "He bought it. Problem solved, or so I thought.

The electrical officer, Lt. Frank Jereb, was not amused. "You gave the captain a fuse puller?" He said in a tone of disbelief. I explained that this seemed like a practical solution, forgetting this was the Navy. "He's got his coffee and I can fix it whenever."

From then on, I was on Jereb's list, but not the captain's.

Retaliation

A few weeks later Jereb, smiled grimly as I received a transfer to the 19th Fleet in Bremerton to a non-existent job with nothing to do. I stopped by the Essex which was moored at Pier 91, Seattle, the following Saturday. As fate would have it, Capt. Mathews was on the quarterdeck.

"Haven't seen you for a while, Mather," he said.

"I've been transferred to 19th Fleet," I said.

"What are you doing there?"

"Nothing," I said with emphasis while sticking firmly to the truth but knowing the Essex was drastically shorthanded.

I reported aboard at quarters on Monday.

Mr. Jereb was not pleased.

Epilogue

Discharge on points came a month or so later in June1946, at Bremerton. On the Black Ball ferry to Seattle, the men of the Essex clustered in one last gesture of fellowship. "They'll never get me in the GD Navy again," I said to Taylor L. Marshall, an Iowa farm boy and fellow electrician. He was skeptical and right.

In May, 1947, I re-enlisted V6, USNR.

The e-mails below are to and from Joe DuErmit, Leonard Schlamp and one from Joe DuErmit to Bill Scott, editor of our Buccaneer.

I really have nothing to add other than what I already wrote to Hope - that "Veverka" was truly a character, well liked, and remembered by everyone who came in contact with him. At so many of our reunions someone was sure to ask "I wonder whatever happened to Veverka".

I have sent you a copy of the letter I sent to Frank O'Connor in re my visit with Hope Veverka. Frank has indicated to me he would like to put the news about Bob Veverka and my visit with his daughter Hope, in the Buccaneer, and/or on the web page. Leonard if you have anything you would like to add in regards to your memories of Bob please feel free to send it along to Frank for inclusion in his final edit for publication.

We were contacted by a Hope Veveka through the efforts of our web site. Hope's Dad Bob Veverka was a Radioman in the KR Division on the Essex 1942 to 1946 when he was discharged after WWII. While she was visiting here in San Diego my wife and I were able to meet with her. She lost her 21 year old son Brandon Sapp while serving in the Army in Iraq. She wanted to know about her Dad's experiences on the Essex so I related as best as I could remember the time Bob and I had together in the old Radio Gang. I gave her copies of the group picture taken on the flight deck at Pearl Harbor in 1944 of the Radio Gang and other pictures of and on the Essex that I had. She was very appreciative. I would like to ask a favor of you Bill could you send her a copy of the Buccaneer? Her address is:

Daughter Hope found it on the web a few months ago and inquired if anyone had known her father Bob Veverka . Leonard Schlamp, and Joe DuErmit responded to Hope informing her we had served in the Radio Gang with her Dad. While she was visiting friends in Chula Vista, Ca. near San Diego the weekend of April 30^th 2006, my wife Barbara, daughter Shirley, and Grand daughter Deanna were able to meet Hope and share dinner with her on that Sunday evening.

Hope lost her only son, Brandon Sapp, 21 year's old in Iraq, he was in the Army. Hope is a Para Legal and has a very congenial personality, which some of you that knew Bob, her Dad, might find a bit surprising! She told us she has been able to correspond with some of the Radiomen that knew her Dad, if there are any of you that would like to communicate with Hope Veverka her E-Mail address is: Hleaglee@bellsouth.net I know she would appreciate any memories about her Father you could share with her.

Hope informed us that her Dad had moved to Florida after he got out of the Navy and worked construction. He had built his own home in West Palm Beach and raised his family there. She also told us he was a rather strict Dad, and a no nonsense boss on the job. I told Hope that at our Essex reunions the old Radiomen still share humorous stories about her Dad. She especially enjoyed my relating to her how Pappy Lee used to call her Dad Weewerka. We still get a lot of mileage out of this at our reunions. Hope would like to attend one of our reunions, so she could meet some of her dads’ old shipmates.

For countless years I thought I was the Battery Officer on Mount 5-quad 40 mm located by the flag high on the after side of the Island Structure. I was on that mount for several months, but a few years ago, my Director Operator-Dick Reith-told me I was the Battery Officer with him on Mount 2 (on the focsile underneath the flight deck. I am positive I was on mount 2 with Dick earlier that month but felt certain I had gone to Mount 5 before the Thanksgiving kamikaze hit. My roommate was the Combat Photo Officer and he had his camera set up at the side of the Director Operator
shield during Gen'l Quarters. I know he took the pictures of the Judy approach and crash, and just as the Judy hit us, he left his camera running and he hit the deck. I saw that video time after time, and that could have led to my illusion (if in fact I did not witness it) with some clear distinct recollections. Here is my best shot.

The Judy had been chased by gunnery action (5 inchers) into cloud cover at about four or five o'clock off our starboard stern. The five inchers had opened pattern fire into that cloud cover. When the Judy came out of the Cloud Cover it was in its angle of attack. We were launching planes, and had gotten off a few, but the most of them were still idling on the after quarter of our flight deck. Everybody started shooting at the Judy. Somebody smoked him and I saw one picture showing him raising up in his cockpit, probably to avoid smoke and possibly fire. He was coming in hot and a little too high and it was speculated that he put down some flaps to try to crash our planes that were gassed up and idling awaiting launch. He crashed us just forward of No. 2 elevator taking out the row of Stewards Mates on the 20 ml and also the five inch mount just forward of the '20s.

The consensus was that he did not have a bomb with him and that the explosion occurred from his own gasoline. There was one Hell of an explosion.

Dick Reith tells me that the Gunnery Department went to Condition Easy and some of us, including me, went to the crash site where someone was cutting up pieces of the parachute. We each got a piece plus a piece of the plane shrapnel that was sticking in the flight deck. The conversation then, and for sometime following, was to the fact that (and my room mate's camera showed it) that the stewards mates all died facing and firing at the Judy until it hit them and killed them. I never heard of any of them being alive after the impact. As to the pilot, one sailor said that he had an ankle cuffholding him in the cockpit. We wondered why a kamikaze would be wearing a parachute after his funeral had been preached and he was cuffed to the plane. We speculated that (there were several other kamikazes ahead of him) he might have been the leader during the raid and after the others had crashed, that he could not pass up a nice big Essex Class carrier with planes all revved up on its flight deck. I clearly remember that we had the fire out and the hole in the flight deck with a temporary patch within about one half hour so that we could recover our own aircraft. I think maybe some landed on other carriers.

That is about the best I can do. I never heard of the Judy having a second pilot in it. I had heard that several other kamikazes had likewise attacked without carrying a bomb. The kamikaze that hit the Essex on April 11 during Okinawa, carried a bomb which he released (was attacking from 7:00) and which went under our port outboard (#4) screw (almost directly under my gun Mount No. 8) which exploded, and the concussion from which cleaned out my gun Mount causing me and 20 plus others to receive the Purple Heart. He then crossed on over, knocking off our radar antennas and crashed off the starboard bow. Bomb ruptured two or three of our underwater port oil compartments, bent our screw and we humped along for a long time thereafter.

I will attempt to relate my story to you again. I was busy over the holidays and I couldn't get back to you. This is the one that I listed under," it's a small world".

When I graduated from boot camp in July '58 at Great Lakes, I was assigned to the grand old lady, the USS Essex CVA-9. I was sent to Norfolk after my leave, at which time I had to wait for her. I did not realize that she was on a Med cruise. I finally had an opportunity to meet her. I was flown out of NAS Norfolk to N.J., on to Labrador and then to Scotland, then on to Libya and finally to Beruit where there was a civil war going on at the time.( I don't believe they've settled yet). At this time I was placed on the USS Pocono which was tied up to the pier. I'm still not sure where I'm going or what I'm doing. Finally I am informed that I am going to meet the Essex. I am taken out into the bay and placed on an ammo ship. The name escapes me at this time. From here I am on board for a couple of days when I am high-lined to a tanker, again a few more days and high-lined to another supply ship, at which time I spend more days on.. At last at 0300 hrs. I am high-lined in a box, no boss's chair, with two other sailors to the Essex. When we arrive on the aft elevator, a Boss's meets us and takes us to the compartments and a bunk. He informs us to go to chow in the morning (what is this hour I'm at now?). Being new and unfamiliar with the ship or any of my shipmates I found the chow hall and went through the line. I don't speak with anyone or look at anyone. I find a seat at one of a table and place my tray down without looking at the sailor across from me. When I do look over, I notice a tattoo that looks very familiar. It turns out that I'm sitting across from Jerry Forcier, a class mate of mine that I was in school with a year prior in Chicopee, Mass. I remember the tattoo because he got it while we were still in high school. He was very proud of it. He had to go to Hartford, Conn to get it because tattoo parlors were not allowed in mass at that time. well, needless to say, you could have knocked me over with a feather. We continued with our friendship while we both on board. unfortunately, Jerry was killed a few years after he was discharged from the navy. He was driving a fuel tanker for Arco when a person crossed the highway and hit his truck head on rt. 91. He was a great guy.

A few years after Jerry died I was coaching a little league team. A young boy on my team was Jerry Forcier jr. He was only about 5 or 6 at the time. Talk about the irony. Not only do I meet Jerry in the middle of the Med, but his son shows up on my team. I really believe in the term, "it's a small world".

Another e-mail searching for anyone who knew his father, does anyone remember this Essex Sailor?

My father, Donald G. Peterson served on the USS Essex during WWII. During that time, he spent some spare time cartooning for the ship's paper. Is there anyone who might have scans or reproductions that might show some of his work? He is still alive and well at 91, with a 13-year old grandson who is fascinated by what little his grandpa will say about his time on the Essex. If I could come across any of this information, it'd make my son's (and my dad's) day.

The following e-mails come from Leonard Schlamp and Joe DuErmit. Conversations between a daughter and son asking about their fathers during WWII.

Dear Shipmates:

Here is a correspondence I have been having with the daughter of Veverka! I hope some of you will also write to her. I am sure she will appreciate hearing from each and everyone of you. You will note that she states she is the mother of PFC Brandon Sapp (killed in Iraq) but she uses the name of "Hope Veverka" when giving her mailing address.

The following comes from Hope Veverka

Hello, this is my first time @ this site. I am the daughter of Robert J. Veverka, who served on the USS Essex 1942. I would like to communicate with anyone who may remember my father....I am interested if anyone remembers my dad. I live here in West Palm Beach and just "happened upon this site" and see there is a reunion. "Great stuff, guys".

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I was very pleased to get your E-mail. I certainly do remember your father. Who could forget him having known him? I served in the same division with him aboard ESSEX (KR Division). I have been attending ESSEX reunions since 1991, missing only this year because of the hurricane. As we former radiomen gather someone usually asks "I wonder what ever happened to Veverka?" He was always known by his last name. Although you don't mention it, am I to assume he is no longer alive?" It would be good to hear from you again.

C. Leonard Schlamp, ex-RM2c, KR Div., USS ESSEX

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Hello there,

I am sooo pleased to receive your message!

"Whatever did happen to Veverka?" That makes me chuckle. My father was truly a "character".....Unfortunately, my dad died September 19, 1986 of a pulmonary embolism from his right leg to his lung....It took three blood clots being "thrown" before he died. Dad was funny, a "party person" and a real strong man right up to his death. He had such a "code" that even my brother and I had to live by....Let's see if any of these are what you and he shared while serving: There is no such word as "can't"! We were NEVER allowed to wear blue jeans. Chewing gum made one look like a "cow chewing cudd" Dad was extreme when it came to being punctual...He went into construction and was a high-rise building superintendent for at least the last 2O+ years of his life. If ANYONE showed up a minute late, he sent them home! He enjoyed his Scotch on the rocks and it had to be only a certain name brand (the name has slipped my mind). My slacks had to have a crease down the front or I was "sloppy" and could not leave the house. Being a person of your word was REALLLLLYY BIG to dad. Do any of these ring a bell? I am soooo pleased you e-mailed? Please feel free to share any of your memories of dad. By the way, do you have any pics of him? God Bless You, Sir.

Thank you ~

Brandon's Mom Always,

Hope

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I am sorry to have been so long in replying to your last message, but my computer has been down and I had to take it in for repairs. I am happy that you wrote "my father was truly a 'character' " so now I can write that I thought he was a 'character" too and know that you will not be offended. Even though you say that you and your brother had a 'code' to live up to, it is obvious that you loved him. Everybody in KR Division knew him and many joked about him because he was so outspoken (and with what to us was an accent). When I first reported aboard ESSEX he took me around on an impromptu tour of the ship, at least to the places I needed to see. One question: in your message heading it says "In Memory: PFC Brandon Sapp" and in your signature you sign as "Brandon's Mom Always". Would you care to explain? I want to share your messages with other KR Division shipmates in hopes that they may reply too, but some do not have E-mail. May I have a mailing address for you? I do not have any pictures of him, but it is possible someone else may have had one from some time when they were on liberty. We couldn't have a camera aboard ship during the war.

C. Leonard Schlamp, KR Division member WW II.

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Dear Sir,

I am so very thrilled at this moment, having read your message. I was wondering what had happened to our communications. Thank you for writing.

Yes, "Robert J", as he so eloquently introduced himself to my friends while I was growing up, was 'truly a character'. My teenage friends always loved coming over to the house cuz dad was around.....He was truly an extrovert and very adamant about saying, "Is everybody havin' a good time?" Dad had two house rules for "having a good time" for all of us..they were "no drugs and no sex" allowed in the house and we'll be fine. People loved him for that or at least I know I did. Yes, he was verrrry outspoken. As an adult, I too have that characteristic....people know that about me....I learned a lot from my father as I went to live with him during those "teenage" years. While my parents were together during my childhood years, at the age of 12, my parents divorced. Within one year of their divorce, my father went to court and WON custody of me....I was always so proud of him for standing up for me like that....this happened in 1972 when it was simply unheard of for a father to have custody of his child, much less a 13 year old daughter living with him! Even during the last two days before dad passed in 1986, I stroked his forehead and whispered in his ear, "thank you so very much for what you did for me". "I love you so much, dad". In fact, I took his death very hard for years.

As for the lighter side, you mentioned his accent. Yes, being from "The Bronx" gave him an accent that too at times people kidded him about. I recall the accent being prominent on such words as "oil in the car" sounded more like "earl in the cah". Another one was the way he said the name of a city here in the area, "City of Riviera Beach" sounded more like "City of Riveera Beach"....he was a card.

As for sharing my e-mails with your shipmates, I feel honored to be a part of helping each of you to recall a thing or two about my dad. He was another true hero in my life. But I also have another true hero in my life. That is my only child, PFC Brandon Robert Sapp. Brandon was born in 1983 (three years old when dad passed), so they never really got to know each other. My son signed up for the Army and went to Iraq in March of 2004. Brandon was killed in August 2004. He was only 21. My healing continues. Since Brandon's death, I have done a lot of community events in memory of our fallen servicepersons in the Global War on Terrorism. I have also started a condolence box project called "Candles of Hope" in memory of my son wherein I make dove candle dishes and place the first name of the fallen servicepersons' name on the dish, with a white candle in the middle and send a two-page condolence letter to families of our fallen across the United States. To date, 259 boxes have been mailed. That keeps me busy

I have pics of Brandon and my dad that I could forward in a separate e-mail, if you like.

By the way, a friend of mine, a Retired Officer in the Marines, recently gave to me the VERY toaster used on the ESSEX. It weighs a TON! His thinking is that it was the only one on the ship and possibly used by my father, and possibly some/most of you guys.....Any thoughts? Are there any of dad's shipmates who live in this area?

For now, I will close that this is a wonderful communication that has opened up in my life between my father, his shipmates and myself. God is awesome.

My address is:

Hope Veverka

5060 Elmhurst Rd/Unit E

West Palm Beach, FL, 33417

Brandon's Mom Always,

Hope

I was an FA (fireman Apprentice) out of boot camp assigned to the Engineering Dept on the USS Essex, Med Cruise in 1959. I had the privilege to fly on board while at sea. I was suppose to be assigned to the Electrical Division but the old Engineering Officer, LT Comd. McCormick, stated everybody on his ship was assigned first to six weeks in the hole ( Fireroom). The 6 weeks turn into 4 years and the four years turned into my lifelong vocation as a Utility Specialist (Boiler Inspector) with the Hartford Steam Boiler Insurance Co for the last 40 years. I retired in March 2004 so one could say I own everything I have to my early training on the USS ESSEX. I came aboard mid November 1959, and I left active service July 26, 1963. During that time frame we made 3 Med cruises and one NATO cruise to Ireland, England, Holland, Netherlands, Germany and Scotland. I also had the privilege of being in charge of the boiler rooms during our orders to Cuba (Bay of Pigs) in 1962. I was ordered to fire the boilers and get the ship underway in a record time of 1 hour and not the usual 4 hours. The job was accomplished and she was the GRAND OLD LADY

I know this is not an aviation sea story, but never the less I wish to share this with all ESSEX vets..

In the time frame of 1958-59 I served on Essex as a CS1 ,food service division later on after retirement I attended college and eventually an education doctorate. In 1979 I joined the faculty of Brenau College in Gainesville, Ga. and the chairman of the science department was none other than Larry Andrews, former FN on board Essex during that time. Larry earned a PhD from the university of Ga. Small world isn’t it

I served aboard the "nine" from April "52 to July '53. I was a desk jockey in the disbursing office and had no contact with actual "work" and was quite naive, thinking this was a pleasure cruise. We were, of course used to drills so when one afternoon right after chow we heard "General quarters, all hands man your battle stations---" We all groaned, "what a hell of a time for a drill." The announcement continued "-- This is not a drill, I repeat, this is not a drill!" You never saw so many scared kids stumbling over themselves to get to their station. I had to cross the mess hall which had been cleared of tables and just swabbed. Needless to say, I crossed it horizontally, slammed into a stack of tables and got up to continue. My station was a loader on the 3rd deck. Most of us had no idea how to load them if we had to but I suppose someone was there who did. We were informed that it took us 3 times as long to get to our stations as it usually did in the drills. We were kept there for a few hours and then cleared. I never found out what the situation was. If anyone knows please tell me

I SERVED ON BOARD DURING THE CUBAN CONFLICT. AS FAR AS I KNOW THE ESSEX NEVER DID GET ANY CREDIT FOR EVEN BEING THERE. WE WERE IN A RE-PHASE COMMAND JUST BEING OUT OF THE YARDS.

I WAS ALSO ABOARD DURING THE STORM WHEN THE MAST FELL OFF. IT CAME RIGHT THRU THE FLIGHT DECK PUNCHING A HOLE IN THE OVER HEAD OF MAIN RADIO. WE BUCKETED WATER FOR DAYS. TOOK TURNS SLEEPING AND BUCKETING. STAYED IN MAIN RADIO FOR TWO OR THREE DAYS.

I was a parachute rigger with VF-821 during the Essex 1952 Korean trip. The most memorable was Capt. Lovett, occasionally he would come down to the hanger deck where we were working on aircraft and ask how it was going. He always had a marine with him, who he liked to loose by ducking under a wing. On the flight deck was "Hot Suit Calluci" who was very serious about his job and Ens. O'Hern flight deck officer, they both drank coffee from our shop which was first deck under the flight deck starboard aft, also used by Cdr. Moser senior medical officer. One morning Cdr. Moser lifted the lid on the coffee pot and yelled clean it up. My job was not only to service aircraft but to clean the coffee pot there after. These were great memories in my four years in the navy. Worked with many great people. I made two trips aboard the Essex, after the Korean war ended we patrolled the Formosa straits.

I've seen no mention in other stories, or in the official history, of an interesting occurrence during one of the back-to-back Med/North Atlantic cruises about 1967 or 68. We were north of the Arctic circle on ASW patrol, and as usual were playing cat and mouse with Russian trawlers. On this particular day, we were evidently close enough to the mainland that a pair of Badger bombers came out to look us over. I was standing on the fantail watching them as they made a number of low-level passes, one being a slow, close fly-by mushing along below the elevation of the flight deck with gear and flaps down. He was close enough that I could actually see one of the pilots waving as he cruised by. After having their fun, both planes turned back toward the coast and headed out of sight and I figured the show was over. But it wasn't more than a few minutes later when a speck on the horizon starting getting rapidly bigger. One of them evidently had decided to give us a more memorable send-off, had circled around, and was pouring the coal to it as he over flew the ship at an elevation that appeared to be just a few feet above the mast. It looked to me like he wasn't watching his rate-of-climb indicator, as he seemed to be slowly dropping closer to the ocean on the way out. He probably would have been OK, but he decided to really impress us with a tight fighter-jockey turn in his bomber, and dug a wingtip in. We saw a fireball immediately go up, and the other bomber turned and streaked for home. We steamed to the crash site at flank, but there wasn't much left. It being the height of the cold war, I have to admit I was a little concerned for a few following hours. The ship's boats went out and recovered what they could, and the next morning a Russian destroyer showed up, collected the remains and fired a salute over the spot. That day severely eroded my image of the typical humorless Russian you'd find in the James Bond-ish movies of the era. I decided pilots would be pilots, no matter which side of the curtain they flew on.

When the Essex arrived off the coast of Korea in August of 1951, the crew was provided copies of the attached communications (poems) between the Bonn Homme Richard and the Essex. I scanned the letters and converted them to text. I think these two poems express the character, commitment, courage and humor of two great men serving their country. I was an enlisted man on the Essex from January, 1951 to August, 1952. Peter Erickson Rockville, MD.

This article comes from LCDR Kenneth P. McDaniel signing the guest book and asking if anyone knew his father.

Please feel free to retell the story on the site. It deserves circulation. If a former hanger deck crewmen happens on it, he can elaborate or maybe correct it. Someone knows that crewman's name.

I recall the Essex took two big hits during WW II, a kamikaze and an aerial bomb. In the pictures on your site, there's two of a kamikaze heading to the forward flight deck area. I believe that's the incident that gave rise to the story. My sister still has Japanese currency that survived in the Japanese pilot's pocket. If I remember correctly, the cockpit interior was said to have suffered remarkably little damage, at least considering the velocity of the crash.

I'll consider attending the reunion and joining the association.

Thanks so much for your response and advice, but I must admit that my service aboard the old Essex was limited to a few days in 1945 while she was berthed at NS Bremerton, Wash. I was five, but was an eager sailor and had to wait to put on a uniform until 1959.

My father, Kenneth P. McDaniel, then a LTJG or LT, was the Essex Hanger Deck Officer. He lost contact with the men in his division. In his declining years, he much regretted not thanking them and better showing appreciation for their hard work and contribution to the Essex and its air groups' fine performance.

One incident stands out. After a hit (bomb or kamikaze, probably Okinawa) penetrating the flight deck, there was a fire on the hanger deck, and it took some time to knock it back. The hanger deck crew preformed their duties with great determination and heroism according to my father.

But, on return to the engulfed area, they found a 500 lb bomb in the remaining flames. It was one of ours that was awaiting hoisting to a plane. It had no fuse, but was glowing cherry red in the dark under a wing, probably ready to cook off. Overhead sprinklers had not reached it under the wing.

Dad said he and some sailors kicked the bomb to the side to go overboard, but they forgot the foot high combing there. There were no tools to lift it as they were buried in debris. There was no time to go elsewhere to get more.

Dad said someone exclaimed the thing had got to go over and now, and they all stood for a few seconds, too brave to flee and to numb to think of a solution. Then, one gritted his teeth, grabbed the still hot bomb, and with bare hands and arms lifted and levered it overboard. It sank with a hiss.

The sailor spent time in sickbay with burned hands and arms. Dad said later, it was the boldest act he saw in thirty years of naval service. However, at the time, he took it for granted. After seeing to help for the guy to make it to sickbay, he had the men turn to for clean up and repairs, no rest for the weary!

Many, many years later, he wished he'd recommended some of the men for a medal. He said so much was done then that was taken for granted. It was only later he realized the men's actions were worthy of recognition and possibly decoration. About 1980, he confided to me he would seek recognition for them, if only his thanks. Unfortunately, he died of a heart attack the next year while fighting cancer.

I was in Vietnam and as I grew older, have much the same feelings about my service. I resolved to contact the remaining Essex men and communicate to them what my father can no longer. Aside from the men actually there that '45 day, I may be the only one left who knows this story. So you can see why I wish to send it on.

I don't know if a medal for that young man of so long ago is still possible, but if he is still alive, maybe we could write a congressman.

Thanks for your time and the information.

LCDR Kenneth P McDaniel, II USNR (Ret) for LCDR Kenneth P McDaniel, Sr, USN

PS: Dad's grandson, CPT Kenneth P McDaniel, III, USA, Field Artillery, served last year in Iraq and was awarded the Bronze Star.

At Long last, someone who remembers.

Dear Ken;

I can honestly tell you your letter to Frank made my day. Your Dad replaced Roy Hoppe as the Hangar Deck Officer. Roy was, in every sense of the word, excellent in everything he did. We honestly felt there just was no replacement that could come close. However, the one we found was Roy's equal in every respect and his name was Ken McDaniel. I was the Flight Deck Officer and as such you must have a close and good working relationship with the Hangar Deck Officer in order to keep the deck running smoothly. As I recall the figures. The Essex outstripped other carriers by 70 % in take off and landing time. Your Dad, super flight deck and hangar deck crews were responsible for that record. After all the only reason for carriers is to get planes off and on, make their maneuvers and get to point "option" on time for pick up.

I recall very little of the bomb deal mostly because we were a little busy on the flight deck, picking up parts of a Jap plane and taking care of men who had spent their last day doing a job that needed to be done. Repair eight had the deck repaired and ready for operations in a little over two hours.

When I received Frank's letter I ran real quick to wife Norma. She is well aware of the fact that anytime we were at reunions, I spent time asking if anyone remembered your Dad. Meeting his son will be my pleasure. I do hope you will be able to come to our reunion. If you attend, please advise me when you come aboard. Wherever I am, I will make arrangements to greet you right quick.

Bill Christensen

Responding to the above email.

I am very pleased to hear from you. Memories fade as we grow older, but I know I've heard your name. We probably met in '45 if you accompanied the ship to Bremerton. Dad introduced me to many of his shipmates then, but I was small.

Dad was proud the Essex had the best plane handlers in the Pacific. He told me that his crew and the "Flight Deck gang" together could turn the air group around faster than any other carrier in TF 58. He often described your work together.

When I was very young, I just noted and accepted the stories. Much later, after my own service in Naval Aviation and the Vietnam War, I had a new appreciation of the Essex's efforts, and what it took to make those accomplishments. I was really floored to learn some time ago that you all did it with only one catapult on the flight deck!

I can't believe that someone thought a plane could be launched sideways from the hanger deck! The aviators trying it should have all been given medals then retired as having used up their nine lives. When I told some aviation friends about the Essex hanger deck catapult, I had to get out a book and show them to get them to believe me.

I had a chance to visit with Vice Admiral (CDR in '44 I think) Fitzhugh Lee about '78 after he retired to San Diego. I learned he was Essex XO when Dad reported aboard. ADM Lee said he broke the news to Dad that he was needed more on the hanger deck than in CIC. Dad was initially disappointed as he had just trained as a radar intercept officer, and he felt could contribute as a former fighter pilot.

However, ADM Lee went on to tell Dad how critical the job was. As he put it to me, "I needed an old bolo, your father, to keep the hanger deck running. He had served with me in the USS Heron in the Philippines in the late '20s." He said they sent new sailors to the hanger deck, most draftees, and worried how they would do. 'Guess they did okay.

And, so it went from there. ADM Lee was Chief of Naval Air Training, CNATRA, when I went through Pensacola in '64. He mellowed considerably, I heard, but still had a reputation such that one just didn't argue with him. He had a pretty blond daughter about my age. I saw her often at the O'Club when off duty. One of my classmates dated her.

I met other officers who served with Dad. There was ADM Jaap, FAW 10 commander, land-based patrol, NAS Oak Harbor, Whidbey Wash, about 1967. Dad co-piloted for him several times in the '30s. LT Murphy in VP 17 there recognized my name and informed me my father put him in the brig for a week. He reported late from boot camp to NATTC Millington in '48.

CAPT Caldwell was CO of the school of preflight when I went through in 1964. He was on the committee of my Scout troop at NAS Corpus Christi, TX and Dad's CO there in '56. After graduation, CAPT Caldwell invited me to call and with a couple of drinks, described Dad as, "The finest naval officer I ever knew."

A year or so ago, there was a famous photographer here who left his collection to the local university. I believe he was a friend of yours and Dad. He was an Essex marine det officer, and I had heard his name. Douglas I think, but I didn't learn of the visit until he was gone.

It's hard to believe the whole affair with the kamikaze lasted only two hours, attack, strike, damage, flames, damage control, the bomb incident, clean up, repairs, and resume operations . . . in two hours!

I copied brother Gordon and nephew Colin, also sons Ken III and James who, being younger, don't know their granddad well. Colin joined the Navy, but had eye trouble in boot camp. Ken III joined the Army, but he does well so we forgive him. They all may have questions or comments.

Ken McDaniel II

Thank you for sharing this piece of history with the USS Essex Association and of course the world.

Frank R O'Connor USS Essex Chairman

I remember the President coming alongside the carrier pier in the Honey Fitz on several occasions. His wife's family had a home in Newport where she stayed with the children during the summer when not at Hyannisport. Once, the President got into his convertible Lincoln in the back, and placed himself atop the back seat where he could see everyone and wave to the ESSEX crewmembers that were lining the rail. The driver started with a jerk and the President almost slipped/fell backwards but managed to hold on until the car stopped. I imagine some stares were directed at the driver by Kennedy and some secret service people. Anyway, all recovered and the car drove off. Could have created a news item considering the President's bad back.

Bill Lockwood

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Bill Lockwood found our web site with Michelle's letter she made public at the South Bend reunion and can be read there. The email transfers between Michelle and Bill Lockwood resulted in the following pages of memories. The first is from Bill Lockwood to Bob Walker and then Bob Walker replying.

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From: "Lockwood, Bill"

To: Robert Walker, Michelle Walker

Date: Thu, 6 Nov 2003 16:56:23 -0500

Subject: RE: History

Good afternoon SIR: It's so good to hear from you. Indeed, Michelle and I have been having some pretty good conversations but I've been careful to be as accurate as this memory will allow me to be. You have jogged my memory on a couple of points. I now remember the German newspaper article and the big X, but for some reason I didn't remember that we had actually run aground. And I'm not totally surprised the "real" story is somewhat less exciting than what finally worked its way down to my level. But believe me, our version of the pilot being kicked off the bridge brought more laughs. So it was Bogart not Searcy that took us into Hamburg. I remember being on the flight deck in dress uniform for the change of command. Didn't the change of command occur during the North Atlantic Cruise Seth was great!!! You were obviously closer to him than I but the men were sad to see him go. Let me remind you of another incident and you can tell me who said it. We were cruising, I believe in the North Atlantic, and we were experiencing an unusual number of hangar bay fires. Finally one evening, after another fire had been reported, the Captain came over the 1MC and said a few things about someone starting the fires then he said "If I catch that son-of-a-bitch I'll hang him so high the FBI won't be able to find him." I've never forgotten that phrase. I think the comment was successful because the fires soon stopped. So, my memory says Seth made the comment. Shortly after the comment was made everyone watched the Chaplain cross the hangar deck and head for the bridge. We thought he was going to complain about the language. Seth liked to visit the men occasionally. I remember him coming into the Personnel Office and no one saying "Attention on Deck" and finally, after about 15 seconds, George says it. He was very gracious. Another incident. We're cruising (but I'm not sure where) and it's close to lights out (21 or 2200) and the bridge has requested all the trash be taken to the fantail. About 15 minutes later we are all sent to muster stations for man overboard. Apparently a radioman had decided not to go all the way to the fantail with his trash and stopped on elevator 3 (if that was the side elevator) and began to throw his trash over at that point. I don't know what happened but he went with it. Can and all. As he was going past the fan tail the man overboard watch heard his cries. After about 20minutes or so of searching one of the destroyers picked him up. That made the paper to.

Final Story: I know you'll remember this one. There is a young man in the brig and he reaches the breaking point. As the Marines are marching the prisoners somewhere he decides to break line. He heads to the hangar deck and jumps overboard. We're in the North Atlantic and ice is floating by. He's lucky, but he was found. After a lot of discussion about whether he should stay in the brig or go to a hospital you later transferred him off the ship. I think to some psych ward. I think this story was also in the German paper.

I clearly remember the basement of the Ratskellar, and the arched brick columns and toasting with the steins. I don't know if I ever thanked you properly for hosting (or helping to host) that event. When you mentioned the Beatles it reminded me of our stop at Belfast, Ireland. I visited a club there (twice) that was extremely popular with the young folks and had music just like the Beatles. Each time I was there I believe there were around 250 young people so the group was very popular. I've always wondered if that group had been the Beatles. Probably not if you saw them in Hamburg. Michelle, my most vivid recollection of Belfast was the beautiful girls.

The following is the reply from Bob Walker to Michelle and Bill Lockwood.

Well, you two have been having a good discussion of my past experiences and happenings, but mainly by Bill. I must say, you have a good memory. Bill--probably more accurate than mine. But there are a few comments I'd like to make. I do remember Hamburg very well. I think that visit and the gathering we had at the Ratskellar was just great and watching all the young sailors enjoying themselves was most satisfying. There were so many eating utensils to choose from as well as wine glasses situated diagonally in front of each setting, that many didn't know where to begin! The layout of foreign cigarettes and cigars on tables on the entrance to the dining room, was impressive. After an enjoyable feast, there were many toasts back and forth made to our host, the visiting squadron, and our respective heads of state. We presented a large aerial photograph of ESSEX to our host, the Nautical Club of Hamburg. They in turn, presented me with a small flag of the Nautical Club mounted on a wooden flagpole about a foot high, which I still have. Afterwards, we went down to the basement of the hotel-the Ratskellar, which was constructed of red bricks, and each room's ceiling rounded to a dome. We were entertained by a French Apache group of musicians, who wore berets, striped shirts and dark trousers. Accordionist, Guitarist, banjo, bass and drummer. They played all the popular German beer-drinking songs-those where you join arms and rock side to side. This went on to the wee hours of morning. Finally, all were rounded up and shepherded to the German army busses waiting and were transported back to the ship. No reveille was held the following morning. I think a good time was had by all. I was not familiar with the America House and the various arrangements made for the sailors to visit with German families. I think that was a wonderful thing for them to do. I spent most of my spare time with Roy and his family and did not visit with any German families. At the time we were visiting Hamburg, a group of British musicians was just starting out and were playing at a night-spot in the Raperbonn-the BEATLES! Must correct you Bill, Capt. Gerald Bogart had command of ESSEX when we went up the Elbe. The encounter with the pilot is not correct. At one point the ship was scraping a lot of ice which meant we were getting out of the channel. Up to this point, all questions made to the pilot were answered yes or no. Then he was asked a question that needed an explanation. He responded that he did NOT speak English !! Capt. Bogart went Ballistic!! Putting his hands to his face and praying that the ship did not go a-ground. However, it did ground on a sand bar. We lost all power momentarily until the emergency diesels could kick in. After all the evaporators were cleaned out and power restored, we continued on our way in the main channel to Hamburg. The local newspaper the next day had a front page article about us going aground with a big black German cross marking the spot on the Elbe where it happened. Quite an embarrassment to all concerned. Incidentally, Capt. Bogart passed away several months ago. Capt. Searcey died several years ago of Alzheimer's disease. He was the BEST. We were the largest ship ever to journey up the river to Hamburg since the battleship Bismarck was built and launched there and left for sea. I have a copy of the calendar you mentioned, Bill, I put it in an auction at one of our reunions and it brought a few dollars for our treasury. Regarding Cuba, we were there to support them in their quest to overthrow Castro. After 4 or 5 supporting sorties by our attack aircraft, we were told by Washington to stop. Capt' Searcey was livid. We did, and picked up as many ditched Cuban airman as we could. They were bomber flyers (B-26) on a one-way run from Nicaragua who ditched nearby. Our boats picked them up and carried them to the ship. The ESSEX did receive the Navy Expeditionary Medal for this activity. Vinegar is a good remedy for sunburn. My mother used to use it on me. When you had your bout, sunburn was a misdemeanor and was counted as lost time charged against you. So you were lucky no one reported you. I think that covers about everything I received. If you have any questions that I might be able to answer, I'd be happy to do so. Great to exchange memories with you. I hope you will consider becoming a member of the ESSEX association. You can find application blanks on the ESSEX website which you can download. Take care and let us hear from you soon. Past Essex Chairman

Robert O. Walker

I guess those aboard, will never forget that evening of December 16th, 1963, during the height of the storm, when the 60 foot, 23 ton mast broke at the stack and crashed onto the flight deck. Damage to all aircraft, equipment and the ship itself was extensive. It might be noted, that the New York papers quoted the USS Essex Captain J. W. West, “The ships log recorded the seas at 85 feet”. The storm lasted a number of days, and in turn took a number of months to put her back in shape at the old Brooklyn Navy Yard. I know, I will never forget that time in my Naval Career; I was the Flight Deck Chief. But that was a long time ago. She was one of the Best Ships I had ever served on.

To Walter F. Rodee, every step of the three miles he ran to the Tucson, Ariz., airport in 1922 pulled him closer to a dream. A barnstorming pilot was offering 20-minute rides in a biplane at $1 each. For the 18-year-old runner, that seemed about as close to heaven as he could imagine. A few years later, the young flying enthusiast received his wings as a naval aviator. Then, during a 35-year military career that spanned two wars, he would receive the Distinguished Flying Cross and the Navy Cross and rise to rear admiral. Adm. Rodee, who flew everything from blimps and biplanes to helicopters and jets, died New Year's Day at his home in San Pedro. He was 98. The cause of death was complications from a stroke, said a son, John Rodee. After being assigned to the aircraft carrier Hornet in 1941, Adm. Rodee commanded air squadrons in the battles of Midway, Guadalcanal and Santa Cruz. The Distinguished Flying Cross was awarded for his efforts against Japanese forces in the pivotal Midway Island battle in June 1942, when he led his squadron through a relentless barrage of anti-aircraft fire. Five months later, he led his group of torpedo and dive bombers against Japanese carrier task forces near the Santa Cruz Islands, an action that resulted in the Navy Cross. On Oct. 26, 1942, the Hornet was hit by two kamikaze planes, seven bombs and two torpedoes. After a second attack by six torpedo planes, the crew was ordered to abandon ship. Flying eastward, Adm. Rodee crash-landed on Espiritu Santu and found his way to a detachment of Marines. Because he had lost all his possessions when the Hornet sank, he donned a Marine uniform. "When he came home to Coronado in November, he surprised everybody by showing up looking like a Marine," John Rodee said. Adm. Rodee, who called the San Diego area home for three decades, served in San Diego after World War II as a Bureau of Aeronautics representative at Consolidated-Vultee Aircraft, the forerunner of the Convair Division of General Dynamics. Early in the Korean War, he served on the carriers Valley Forge and Boxer. He received a Legion of Merit as chief of staff and aide to the commander of Carrier Division 3. In January 1952, Adm. Rodee was assigned command of the carrier Essex. His leadership in the face of what the Navy termed "numerous obstacles presented by increasing shortages of trained personnel and deficiencies of material" earned him a gold star with a combat V. It was awarded in lieu of another Legion of Merit. He returned to San Diego after the Korean War to assume command of North Island Naval Air Station. His final assignment before retiring from active duty in 1961 involved planning and coordinating a merger of naval air bases with the newly established Fleet Air, San Diego. He also was assigned command of naval air bases for the 11th Naval District. As a civilian, Adm. Rodee moved from Coronado to Pasadena to work for Air Logistics Corp. in Pasadena. After five years, he retired and settled in San Pedro. Born in Milwaukee, Adm. Rodee grew up in Tucson, where he planned to study engineering at the University of Arizona. But a call in June 1922 from a state senator set him on an exciting new course. Offered an appointment to the U.S. Naval Academy, he quickly accepted. Adm. Rodee played outfield and third base on the midshipmen's baseball team and graduated with a class of 456 in 1926. His first assignment, before receiving orders for flight training, was aboard the battleship West Virginia. Before reporting to Pensacola, Fla., in 1928 for flight training, he married Virginia Curran in Yuma. The couple had met in 1927, when he was stationed in Long Beach. "As the story goes, Walter was en route to Florida but decided to return to the West Coast and ask Virginia to be his bride," John Rodee said. "Time being too short to acquire a wedding license in California, the couple – along with the entire Curran family – traveled to Yuma. They were married in a Catholic church." Adm. Rodee served aboard the carrier Lexington after earning his wings. He then resumed his education – first at postgraduate school in Annapolis, later at the California Institute of Technology, where he received a master's degree in aeronautical engineering. A lifelong baseball fan, Adm. Rodee told his family of seeing Babe Ruth play in the 1927 World Series for the New York Yankees, which some historians consider to be the greatest team ever. In 1984, he joined his son, John, in watching the San Diego Padres host the Detroit Tigers in a World Series game. In recent years, he followed the fortunes of the Anaheim Angels, who rewarded their long-suffering fans with a 2002 World Series title. Survivors include his wife, Virginia; daughters, Mary Elizabeth Metzger of Napa, Carolyn Carlson of San Diego, Virginia Rodee of San Diego and Catherine Brennan of Los Angeles; sons, Walter F. Rodee Jr. of Houston, Donald Rodee of Fallbrook and John Rodee of San Diego; 21 grandchildren; and 19 great-grandchildren. Services were held Tuesday at Mary Star of the Sea Catholic Church, San Pedro. Donations are suggested to the University of San Diego Athletic Endowment Fund.

I got a copy of the "ESSEX EAGLE" from Jerry McDonell, who was aboard with us in 1958, with ATG201 and VF11. I Thought you all might like this. During the 1958 Med cruise we had a stowaway on board that became a shipmate. Tink Rhodes had the run of the ship, but his favorite two places, was either on the Skippers lap or in the crews mess. Lt.jg. Tink Rhodes was a real seadog. The following is from the ship's newspaper. I think he was part Jack Russell Terrier. "ESSEX EAGLE", November 16, 1958.

Lt.jg. Tink Rhodes - ESSEX has added to Navy Tradition. Naval Tradition has its mascots, including the famous Annapolis Goat that appears at nearly every Navy football game. During this cruise the ESSEX has added to the traditions of the Navy in many respects, and she did not overlook the matter of a mascot. LT.jg. Rhodes has been adopted as the ESSEX mascot.

During the ship's visit to Rhodes, Greece Tink Rhodes wandered aboard in a half starved condition and James R. Jackson, AN, V3 Division befriended him and fed him back to robust health.Thus Lt.jg. Rhodes first experience was that of a stowaway. But he did not go undetected for long, and once discovered his star soared as he was issued a Navy ID card complete with paw print after being given a complete physical exam plus shots. He was also issued a summons to the "Crossing the line Ceremonies" during which he had his, hair cut slightly, ran the Billy club gauntlet, and was given a big snootful of the juice issued the other pollywogs. He is probably one of the worlds few Shellback Dogs!

His crowning achievement however, was becoming unofficial V3 Division Officer and having his picture placed on the Officers Board on the Quarterdeck. Since being aboard ESSEX he has traveled through the Lebanon crisis, transited the Suez Canal, operated off Formosa, seen Malaya, Ceylon, South America, and South Africa. Next stop; Mayport! His owners big concern now is getting him off the ship so he can give him to his six year old daughter, but first he has to get his full Naval uniform for the homecoming ceremonies and pay his parting respects to Captain Thomas A. Christopher. The crew, which has come to accept "JG Tink Rhodes" as an everyday occurrence and cheerful shipmate, will miss him when he leaves.

September 24, 1957 - Anti submarine squadron VS-36 had been on many cruises that year aboard the USS Valley Forge, and the USS Essex. The Commander was Captain Fredrick W. Oliver, from Pensacola Florida. On September 24, 1957, the USS Essex with VS-36, along with the USS Intrepid, USS Forestall, USS Saratoga and HMS Arc Royal were participating with NATO forces in operation 'Strike Back' with the USS Saratoga serving as flagship. Operation Strike Back was taking place above the Arctic Circle, off the coast of Norway. In the early hours of that date the Saratoga was recovering aircraft when one of their F4D Skyray in the landing pattern crashed into the sea. The airborne Saratoga aircraft were joined by aircraft from the other vessels in search and rescue effort. S2F-2 aircraft with a crew of four from the VS-36 Squadron aboard the Essex joined in the search. Two of the S2F's collided in mid-air and crashed into the sea. An extensive search for the missing ensued. Press releases reported that 11 airmen were feared missing. The New York Times reported the New York area missing as the son of Admiral Mack, and Eugene McAuliffe, both from Brooklyn. The bodies recovered from the S2F crash site could not be identified so the policy for a group burial was followed.

As a junior dental officer on that cruise, I was seeing sick- call. It was 9 months into the cruise. A young seaman complained of bleeding gums, usually caused by poor oral hygiene. I ordered him to report to dental each day for a week for supervised brushing. At the end of the week he showed little improvement. I suspected a deeper physiological cause. I ran out of likely questions seeking a diagnosis and even though I knew that navy chow was pretty well balanced, I finally asked: "How are you eating? (Ans): "fine, sir." "No, I meant what are you eating? (Ans): Meat and milk, sir. "Meat and milk, that's all?" (Ans): yes, sir, I worked in that spud locker and I saw what was running around down there and I'm not going to eat it!" I was sympathetic because by that time weevils had started appearing in biscuits and baby cockroaches in the soup. I sent him to sickbay for vitamin supplements. I have just recently realized that I probably had treated the last case of SCURVY in the modern U.S. Navy!

During the Med portion of the 1958 Med-Pacific cruise we lost 4 people. One squadron commander disappeared from the screen on an approach, another SQ lost power after launch and died of internal injuries after ditching. The freakiest loss was that of a flight deck chief who was hit in the head by a deck lamp cover whose broken bolts allowed it to bounce up when the incoming plane hit the deck and then caught it with his tail hook, throwing it through the air. The last loss was the only American killed in the entire course of our incursion in Lebanon. LT.jg R. Dieterick flew his photo Cougar into the crest of a mountain, the plane exploded and the wreckage landed on the other side. A few years later I met his mother, a seat partner on an airliner! CAPT Daniel E. Marsalek USNR-R ret. Rocky River, Ohio

FUNNY STORY: During my cruise aboard the USS ESSEX, CVA-9, in 1960, I served as an air controlman in Primary Fly, under Commander Swinburne (SP?). The closest level for coffee water was about 8 decks down. I remember we would go and fill the coffee urn, make coffee, and then warm it up every day because we hated that long haul back up to Primary Fly. We would get by with it until it was about as thick as mud, and Commander Swinburne would turn and say, "Isn't that coffee a bit strong?"

FUNNY STORY: After becoming a CVS carrier and berthed in Quonset Point, RI, I often left ship around 01200, and drove to Cleveland, to try and hold on to the relationship with a girl I wanted to marry. I pushed the envelope of driving, and would come back in time for Monday morning role call, then head for the tower and crash on the couch. One morning, after such a long trip, I was in the tower sleeping, when Donald Young, another air controlman came up and found me, sleeping with my eyes open. He ran back down to other sailors on the deck, and shouted, "Ingram's dead!" He was frightened to go back up.

TRAGEDY: On the tour of Goodwill in the Med, we were launching at night, F4D's. These heavy aircraft taxed our hydraulic catapults. One night, a hold back cable broke on the starboard cat, and the F4D launched without benefit of the catapult. I looked like it might make it even though we all knew it was impossible. It then nosed over into the water, and the plane floated by the starboard side of the ship. I ran out on the deck of Primary Fly and watched it. After it was several hundred yards off our stern, a flare went up, and everyone cheered, thinking the pilot had got out. Unfortunately, it was probably fired from under water, and the pilot was never found. Many personnel came to the tower, and we searched for hours, with binoculars. I saw one person who had been on the deck searching for a long time, and I went up to him and put my hands on the binoculars and said, "you need a break." "I'll do that for a while." He turned, and gave me the binoculars, said nothing, and went in Primary Fly. However, in the dim light I saw a glint of his Silver oak leaves. I thought he was a chief, or I would not have "told him what to do."

FUNNY STORY: When flying, Primary Fly was a busy place. We often wore sound power headphones on both of our ears (two different circuits) keeping in touch with the flight deck (forward, midships and aft), hanger deck (same), and air office. I had a small record player in the tower, trying to listen to music. I had the brilliant idea, that I could patch it into the sound power (today I am a controls engineer...) and listen to it in our headsets. It worked for us... but sent a very loud signal over the rest of the circuits, drowning out other communications ( only did this once when we were not flying). Others on the circuit, from a process of elimination, decided it must be coming from the tower, and someone was sent up to check it out. Needless to say, by the time they arrived, the record player and connections were no where to be seen, and never were seen again. The air controlmen played dumb. Air Controlman John Ingram

"SOME NEVER GET THE WORD" During a cruise in the Med, about 1960, we conducted a nuclear attack drill, going to general quarters. My standard general quarters assignment was the temporary Primary Fly just aft of the bridge, and outside of the tower. At this location there were sound power outlets for the emergency situation. What I did not hear was all personnel were to be inside because of the nature of the drill, nuclear!! I went to my usual location, and began to realize I did not see anyone else on deck anywhere on the ship. Just about that time, as I reported in to other personnel, I looked up from under my battle gear helmet, and looked right into the eyes of Captain South looking at me from the rear of the bridge. I just played dumb, until the drill was over, and never had any reprisals. Only the humiliation of being at the wrong place right in front of my Captain.

Our berthing compartment on the Essex was on the 02 deck, starboard side, and apparently almost under one of the aft five inch turrets. I woke up one morning and stumbled into the head, which was across a small passageway, and noticed several powder cans littering the deck. I asked some one where these came from and was told that the turret had been fired during the night. Don't I wish I could sleep like that these days! I suspect that I will eventually. Dave Miller, AMM2c, Torpedo 15, TBM Gunner. Airgroup 15

When I was in training with VT83, Lt. LeClair, Joe Fitzgerald and myself were on a navigational flight. A very boring flight. Anyhow, we had been flying along for a couple of hours and I was on the radar hood. Suddenly I became aware of activity above me. Joe Fitzgerald came scurrying down from the turret and grabbed his parachute. I yelled at him to find out what was the matter. He said, "The pilot bailed out." Then he pulled the door release and away went the door. I grabbed my parachute. Then I heard a voice in my headset, which I still had on. It was Lt. LeClair and he wanted to know what was going on back there. I grabbed Fitzy before he could jump. This is what happened. The flight was boring and Fitzy dozed off. A piece of the greenhouse came loose and blew away. The noise woke Fitzy up and he saw this shape go hurtling by and thought it was the pilot. After we landed, minus the door, Lt. LeClair couldn't stop laughing. I remember he said, "I would have given a months pay to have seen you two floating down to the ocean." Jim Purtell, ARM1c, Torpedo 83

The first six ESSEX class carriers, in order of commissioning, were the Essex, Lexington, Yorktown, Bunker Hill, Intrepid, Wasp, and Hornet. The first two did not have the hanger deck catapult. The remaining six were fitted with athwart ships hanger catapults. These were used rarely, probably more for testing and experiment than combat use. They were removed in 1944 refits and an additional flight deck catapult added. Originally, all had single flight deck catapults on the starboard side. Bunker Hill was decommissioned in 1945 and never returned to service. Source: "Essex-Class Carriers" by Alan Raven, Copyright 1988, US Naval Institute, Annapolis.

In the Ships history, The Essex (CVS-9) arrived in GITMO in early Oct 1962 for shakedown from the Yard. The following morning we were underway setting up the Cuban Blockade. We were the Command Ship for that task until relieved by the USS Ranger. We were on the Blockade for a total of 31 days and then returned to our home port of Quonset Point, R.I. This information was not listed in the history

I was aboard USS Beale DD-DDE 471 in early sixties, our DESRON (28) operated with you many times, I just wanted to inform you of a little error you have about the collision with the Decatur, you stated she was scraped. The Decatur, about two years later, was recommissioned as the DDG-31, only the hull name and propulsion gear remained the same.

While I hate to quibble, the History page of your web site is incorrect in that it is ten years off on the paragraphs denoting the Lebanon operation and the Suez canal transit.... it was 1958 not 1968.... I participated in them and in fact broke the message that sent us through the Suez Canal....... so I should know.

A bit of personal trivia. A beloved late uncle of mine served in WW II on the Lexington. When I enlisted in 1965 he shared that he remembered Essex relieving Lexington on station in Japan, just before he was discharged near the end of the war. He said the Essex was known during the war as a "lucky" ship, implying she somehow got off easy. After reading Essex war history through the Association materials, I now suspect Jack's observation about luck was that of a sailor with normal feelings of friendly ship vs. ship rivalry!

I just went through the history page, and I saw no mention of the greatest fight the Essex ever had. The weather. December of 63, we were coming back from a Med. and China Sea cruise. We were told an AC was down north of the Azores, ( we always tracked South ). We were in a storm for 11 days, lost our mast, not one AC could fly and we were declared none combatant by Bu. Ships. We pulled into Quonset Point RI on Dec. 23, 1963. When we pulled into the New York Shipyard at a 15 degree list they told us the it was worst damage they had seen since the Philippine Sea came in during WW2. Just a bit of history on a Great Lady.

Nothing was said on the history page about the Essex role in the Cuban Conflict, my first ship and my first duty station out of AMS School, Memphis. Scared the ___ out of me.

I noticed the mistake in the History too, being off ten years, that is. It was the fall of 57 that we took part in the NATO exercise "Strikeback" in the North Atlantic. On the morning of the 15th of July, 1958 we weighed anchor on our way to support the Marine landing in Lebanon. On August 25th we were in port Naples, Italy, when we got underway - thinking we were being relieved, and going back to the States. Come to find out we were being sent to join West PAC. The history calls this the Taiwan operation. In fact - The Red Chinese were shelling the Island of Formosa, and we were sent to join West PAC in a show of force in the Formosa Straights to put a stop to it - it worked too. All in all this Med Cruise(?) lasted over 10 months and Essex steamed over 75,000 miles. That's when we started calling her the "Galloping Ghost of any Coast".

Being aboard the CVA9 in the fifties as a gunners mate was easy duty. Because of flight ops we didn't get to shoot a lot. And for lack of practice, we couldn't hit much of what we aimed at.. anyway... One day in gunnery practice, there was an AD4 Skyraider pulling a sleeve as a target for us to shoot smoke at... Every gun tub shot different colored smoke - so we could see, who was shooting where...The pilot called down and said "Tell those assholes shooting blue - That I'm pulling this son of a bitch - not pushing it!" I was the pointer on mount 31 (3.50" Gun) on the Fantail, so I was on the party line to hear everything said during practice. No, I wont tell you the color of my gun's smoke...

Another no _____ story--I was pulling a banner one day, with an A-4, for someone behind the tail of the airplane--the color left on the cable was BLUE!!! Who ever he is, he owes me a beer, a scotch, a tequila, a martini and ETC!!

I worked in the Newport News shipyard building her and then joined the Navy to sail with her for the duration of the war. She truly earned the name as the "fightingest ship in the fleet". They never got us and we did our job well. She brought me home safely at the end of the war. I am grateful for that and to all my fellow shipmates who made the outcome what it was.

On 18 March, 1945, I was launched from the USS ESSEX (CV9) in a Corsair F4U along with eleven others. Our division of four planes was lead by Lt. J.J. Stevens and I was his wingman. The number 3 slot was filled by Lt Jg Ed Pappert with Vern Coumbe on his wing. Our mission was to bomb and strafe two Airfields on the island of Kyushu, Japan and return to the ship. We were the second group to hit Kyushu and figured the Japs were probably stirred up and waiting for us. We climbed out and leveled off at ten thousand feet. As we approached the beach, I remember suddenly realizing the land we were looking at was Enemy territory and the hairs on the back of my neck raised right up. There was a broken layer of clouds beneath us and just as we crossed the shoreline I saw two planes below heading in the opposite direction. Upon looking closer I identified them as Jap Torpedo Bombers. Since we were on radio silence, I could only wave my hands and signal to Steve, our leader. I motioned to the left and he nodded OK so we made a diving turn and as I leveled off, one of the Jap Planes was squarely in my sights. A squeeze of the trigger and the six fifty caliber guns literally tore the plane apart. It burst in flames and headed down as the other one saw what was happening and dived for the water at full throttle and took off like a rabbit.. Steve hadn't fired a shot or made a sign as we turned back and rejoined the formation. I studied about that for a while and then the thought came to me, "My God", I have shot down a US Navy TBM. But then I said to myself, "I saw Meat Balls on those planes so they had to be Japs". This was our very first combat flight and we all pretty tight. I also later realized that leaving the formation was a violation of the "Fighter Code" to never leave the group. I don't remember the names of our two target airfields, but when we arrived at the first one, there were no airborne aircraft in sight. We proceeded to bomb and strafe parked planes, hangars and runways with no resistance except Anti Aircraft gunfire form the ground. Then we headed for the second one and gave it the same treatment with the same results. By then we were pretty cocky, seeing as how this business was so easy and fun too. We then opened on the radio, (mistake) and our Leader said "What the hell, lets hit another one on the way back" (another mistake) Tomitaka Airfield wasn't too far off course so we decided to work it over too. What we didn't know was that 20 Zeros, (Hamps & Zekes) were sitting up at twenty thousand feet waiting for us

We made our approach to the Airfield down a little valley and got rid of all hanging ordnance on the first run- there was no second run!! As we pulled up the air was suddenly full of Meat Balls (Japs), and a wild dog fight ensued. We were caught off guard and at low altitude. Our standard fighter tactics wouldn't work and it quickly evolved into a wild melee of tail chases...a Zero chasing a Corsair with another Corsair on a Zero's tail etc. While our Leader (Steve), was shooting one, I was busily knocking another on off his tail. As I flamed that one, someone hollered that one was on my tail. Sure enough I saw traces whizzing by on both sides so I pulled up into a full power, straight up climb until she stalled out and went into a spin. Well, it was a given that one does not intentionally spin a Bent Wing (Corsair), but to me it felt real good until I recovered right back in the middle of the dog fight. That's when I saw Steve's plane smoking and heading out to sea in a shallow dive. I followed to keep the Zeros off his back until he ditched and got out of the plane. I'm not sure how many we got but Pappert and Coumbe each flamed a Zeke and Pappert also got a probable. We lost three pilots that day, Stevens, Garner and Sigman. Steve was in the water and swimming around very slowly. Three of us circled him at low altitude with flaps down and each of us threw him a spare life raft which we all carried. The other two planes finally felt but I was reluctant to leave my Flight Leader and kept circling to see if he got one of the rafts, however he didn't even try to get one. I then managed to remove the life raft from my seat parachute and while flying very low and slow, pulled the inflation toggle and threw the raft some distance up-wind from him. It drifted right by him and he didn't attempt to get it. We had been briefed on the location of the Standby Rescue Submarine so I looked it up on the map and noticed that this one's codename was "Pal Joey". Upon approaching the location suddenly saw it on the surface with a big American Flag flying and some of the crew on deck. I couldn't make radio contact, so in accordance with prescribed procedures, I lowered the landing gear and few over in the direction of Lieutenant Stevens. They understood, gave a big wave and headed out on that course, still on the surface. I was impressed by their bravery doing that when so close to enemy shores. By the this time it was getting late so I plotted a course to the ship and headed home. They were waiting for me so they could get me aboard and head out of the wind. As I hit the deck, the Bull Horn squawked for me to report to the bridge and explain what I had been doing. This was my first combat flight and my "Baptism of Fire" so to speak. Next day we did it all over again on another mission and in addition, saw the USS FRANKLIN CV-13, burning in the water on our way home. This was to be our steady diet for the next five months as the Air Group (CVG-83), flew 9,982 sorties from the USS ESSEX CV 9 for 39,500 hours in the air. We destroyed 228 Jap Planes in the air, with 121 Probable and 107 on the ground. We also participated in the sinking or damaging of 265,000 tons of Combat vessels, (including the Battleship Yamato), and 77,000 tons of Merchant shipping. 35 Pilots and 13 Aircrewmen were lost before we would return to the USA and go ashore at the Naval Air Station Seattle, Washington on 14 September 1945.

Our squadron went aboard the Essex in the Ulthi anchorage on Christmas December 1944. Nothing unusual about that except I was a member of the first Marine fighter squadron to supplement Navy Air Groups in WWll - VMF-124/VMF-213. We joined Navy Air Group 4 with 36 F4U-2s and 54 pilots, 4 ground officers, and 120 enlisted. Our carrier qualifications were minimal, our navigation was strictly VFR, and instrument flight was for someone else. All that changed in a hurry once the fleet left Ulthi. You might say that we enjoyed on-the-job training for the next several weeks. And a great expense, for we lost 7 pilots and 13 Corsairs during the first 10 days of operations - none due to enemy action. But we learned, and became an integral part of Air Group 4. Our skipper, LtCol Bill Millington became the first and only Marine to become a Navy CAG when Cdr Otto Klinsmann was lost during an operation. Millington was the next senior Navy Aviator so took over command. He continued in this position until Air Group 4 was ordered home. We enjoyed a typhoon in the South China Seas, flights escorting TBMs over Okinawa, visiting Tokyo to disrupt their material flow, and flying thru the flack to support the beach head at Iwo Jima. All in all, a well rounded education for the first Marine fighter squadrons to operate from the Essex class carrier. Had fun at the time, was scared like everyone else, and wouldn't want to do it again.

One personal family story by Roberta Klimas

Proud daughter of one of the creators of ACLS (Automatic Carrier Landing System)

My parents bred German Shorthaired Pointers. It is customary to "dock" (amputate!) the puppies' tails while they are very young--a task my father had always taken care of. Alas, a litter was born while he was at sea aboard the USS Essex but my mother was determined to show her bravery. She did the deed, then mailed him the tails as proof. Little did she know that the Bay of Pigs held up the mail for awhile..

My father, Louis E. Scott, (known as Gene or Scotty) passed away this past September 2001. He is buried under Miramar's flight path in San Diego, California.

Note this Story

Through these efforts by Roberta Scott Klimas, daughter of CWO Louis E. Scott, wrote Captain Fred Fearnow for this story and again for his permission to enter here on the web site. Captain Fred Fearnow supplied the following story. Thank You Captain and of course Thank you Roberta.

The following story is relating all the efforts in the creation of the ACLS by CWO Louis Eugene (Scotty) Scott, USN.

During the late fifties/early sixties, efforts were expedited by the OpNav and NavAir to reduce landing accidents of high performance jet aircraft aboard aircraft carriers. One possible aid was the Automatic Carrier Landing System (ACLS). The system had 3 modes of operation; Mode I, automatic to landing with the pilot monitoring; Mode II, pilot flies according to a line-up cockpit presentation; and Mode III, pilot flies according to voice instructions from the Carrier. Only the newer and higher performance aircraft at at time were to be made capable of using the System--F4, A7, A6. Subsequently newer aircraft, F14, F18 have been equipped. From the beginning, more difficulties were experienced than anticipated in achieving the automatic mode.

In 1963, Captain Fred Fearnow was appointed ACLS Project Manager (PM-6) under Admiral Gallatin in NavMat. He soon learned of CWO Scott at NAS Miramar where a training system was installed. At times he heard of some of Scott's efforts to make a system work and to get pilot acceptance. Reports of his work in training flight crews, technicians and CATTC crews and experimentation with system design changes often came to the Project Office. But at that time, his unselfish work was not fully recognized, particularly in Mode II area for aircraft that were not planned to have any of the System--RA5C, E2, A3, SH-3A, Ships COD and A6 (those about to deploy and did not yet have the system). Several Air Group Commanders at NAS Miramar stated a desire to CWO Scott to configure all their Air Group air craft with ACLS. Working with others on the problem, (NavAir, NATC Patuxent River, ComNavAirPac, NESEA, Contractors), he was successful.

In 1969, CWO Scott received orders for duty on the CVA Ranger as CATTC Officer. CDR Allen E. Hill was Air Group Commander, and his Air Group was the first that CWO Scott was able to equip with at least part (Mode II) of the ACLS. CDR Randall Billings was an Air Group Commander on the CVA Constellation during that period and his Air Group was the second to be so equipped.

While the Ranger was in Cubi Point (Philippines) in late 1969, CWO Scott was told that CDR Billings planned to recommend an award for him. This was in recognition of his work in equipping the non-configured aircraft giving his AirWing total ACLS capability. Unfortunately this was not done because CDR Billings died in an RA5C crash ashore shortly afterward. On several occasions, while operating in the Sea of Japan and the Tonkin Gulf, the weather at "bingo" fields and around the ship went sour about the same time. The ACLS helped permit perfect recovery of all aircraft.

During the period 1965-1969, CWO Scott was officer in Charge of Automatic Carrier Landing Systems (ACLS) training for Carrier Air Traffic Control Crews(CATTC) and AirWings in NavAirPac. In this position, he went far beyond the expected duties.

He recognized that the concept of an automatic landing system required not only a thorough understanding of both shipboard and airborne systems, but an equal amount of training be made available to squadron flight crews and technicians in addition to CATTC Crews as data link aircraft were infused into operational squadrons. To this end, CWO Scott voluntarily made himself available, often at great personal cost and inconvenience, to brief and debrief all concerned after each flight of ACLS introduction/practice. Flight and maintenance crews involved were located at NAS Miramar, NAS Lemoore, NAS Whidbey Island, NAS Oceana and NAS Cecil Field. CWO Scott recognized an ideal introduction to the concept of ACLS was to configure the TA4F aircraft of VF-126 (instrument training squadron) for Modes I and II. He believed this concept of a new instrument approach would be a great addition to the curriculum of an instrument training squadron. With assistance of squadron maintenance personnel, this was accomplished on ten aircraft and made part of pilot instrument training.

CWO Scott conceived, and with his maintenance personnel developed, an ACLS System change permitting coverage of both left and right runways at NAS Miramar. This enhanced ACLS flight training considerably.

On his own initiative, he arranged for the FAA to flight check the ACLS in all three modes at NAS Miramar. This was successful and allowed use of the ACLS during actual IFR weather. Training on the System previously was limited to VFR only.

CWO Scott conceived, and with his crew developed, a data link monitor for ACLS. this permitted the ground/ship ACLS operators to see the same Mode II display that the pilot received in the aircraft. It also helped verify system accuracy. This later was made a system design change. CWO Scott and his crew developed, using a T2V aircraft from VF-126, a low-cost adaptation fro any aircraft providing a Mode II capability.

CWO Scott was not satisfied just to perform his assigned a training duties. On his own initiative he gained much experience, as in the data link monitor, runway coverage expansion, and low-cost Mode II. From his experience, he was able to provide two Air Groups with ACLS capability (Mode II ) for deploying Air Group aircraft plus the ships COD aircraft.

NOTE: The ACLS is installed now on all CVA type Aircraft Carriers and Carrier-type aircraft.

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