Talk:USS Yakutat

Latest comment: 8 years ago by Dual Freq in topic Ship's newsletter quotation

Ship's newsletter quotation edit

Someone has inserted the ship's informal newsletter from October 1945 directly into the midst of the encyclopedic text, without any block quote or font applied to distinguish it from the encyclopedic text. It is distractingly and disproportionately long, and its tone, while appropriate on a Web site devoted to veterans' reminiscences, does not reflect the tone of an encyclopedia article. In short, it just doesn't fit. Should the newsletter section be simply deleted? Or is there an option to retain it as a lengthy footnote or addendum of some kind? Although it may have some value as a snapshot of shipboard life aboard USS Yakutat (AVP-32) during World War II, it clearly can't remain at its current location in the article or in its current form. (I have added the tone and quotation-length templates to the section to highlight it.) Mdnavman (talk) 16:59, 13 May 2014 (UTC)mdnavmanReply

I removed the following as unencyclopedic. No need for a direct unedited quotation. --Dual Freq (talk) 18:59, 25 October 2015 (UTC)Reply

The Y's unofficial newsletter edit

 
Cover page of the original newsletter as issued in 1945


BIOLOGICAL HISTORY OF THE MIGHTY “Y” OR “SET THE SPECIAL SEA DETAIL” edit

This brief bit of bull is being piled mainly to provide something for the returning serviceman which is not included in the G. I. Bill of Rights. We are attempting, in fact, to go that hunk of legislation one better and give those who served so faithfully on the mighty “Y” proof of their lies in black and white.

In order to preclude the necessity for further boredom, and as a reminder of some interesting (though not always funny) things which happened, let us take a look at where we’ve been to date – - 18 October 1945.

This vessel was placed in commission at the outfitting dock of Associated Shipbuilders in Seattle, Washington on a typical Seattle day, 31 March 1944.

After proceeding on acceptance runs, testing our gasoline system, loading ammunition, missing liberties, running the measured mile, missing liberties, loading torpedoes, missing liberties, firing the guns, and missing liberties, we finally bid Puget Sound a fond adieu on 21 April 1944 and set a course for the Golden Gate. Many of us vividly recall that first night on the blue Pacific. That the first of many nights that the boys-in-blue were destined to spend manning the rail, or feeding the fish, as you prefer.

Arriving in Alameda on 24 April, we proceeded to load our aviation stores and miss a couple of more liberties before making tracks, however wobbly, for San Diego, and the nearest rail.

Upon arrival in San Diego on the 29th, they hit us between the horns with an inspection less than and hour after our arrival. In true YAKUTAT fashion, we fooled ‘em. Our pants were up.

We kicked around Diego for some five weeks, undergoing extensive maneuvers and training, called “Shakedown”, and a very appropriate name it is. This shakedown was quite an experience. We missed some more liberties and piddled around with various exercises. However, we still think that about the toughest exercise of the bunch was that quaint custom of getting underway every Sunday morning at 0600.

On Thursday, 25 May 1944, COTCPAC, who was the boss, held our final military inspection and pronounced us ready to become the scourge of the Imperial Japanese Army, Navy and Air Corps. Today we also got our first look at the ceremonies of presentation of an award when Ensign A. C. Bingham was awarded the Navy and Marine Corps Medal for heroism at Bougainville,[1] Capt. Frederick Moosebruggor, Chief of Staff for COTCPAC presented the award. Later in the day, we headed for San Pedro, some repairs, a little leave and recreation (darned little!) arriving at about 1800 the same day.

It might well be said that during our stay in San Pedro, the Mighty “Y” came into her own as a fighting ship with a fighting crew.[2]

Between fights we got a paint job, a bottom job, and a boiler job. Once more we reluctantly moved on. The sad parting from the dear old United States took place at approximately 1600 on Saturday, 17 June 1944, amid tumultuous roar of weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth – mostly aboard ship.

After six days of smooth sailing, we made our first port of call, Pearl Harbor. Here we were welcomed by Com AirPac’s band, which produced several enjoyable musical selections. We should have known there was a catch to it, but remember, we were now a fighting ship. The catch to this welcome is still very vivid in our minds, I believe, as it has thus far covered some 10,000 miles and 16 months of our young lives.[3]

We kicked around the Hawaiian Islands for four days, pulling out and escorting the “jeep” carrier MAKIN ISLAND from Pearl Harbor to Majuro Atoll in the newly conquered Marshall Islands. One day hero and on to Kwajalein, also in the Marshalls, and also with the MAKIN ISLAND right on our heels.

Company was parted with the MAKIN ISLAND at Kwajalein and we proceeded independently to Eniwetok, still in the Marshalls, where we got our first glance at what Sherman meant when he said “War is Hell.” We praised the Lord and passed all the ammunition that the TENNESSEE and CALIFORNIA could throw at us all night that night of 12-13- July, and then when the sun came up on the morning of the 13th, and all of us thought we had finished, we were slightly surprised to learn that we still had to provision ship. Chow aboard, we set the special sea detail and headed for Saipan, almost getting a battleship (American, USS Alabama) to our credit, without firing a shot.

Saipan hove into sight on 17 July, and we were treated to somewhat nauseous spectacle of several corpses floating in the water for many miles to sea. Upon anchoring, we were assigned the job of clearing up what had been the Imperial Japanese Seaplane base until a few days previously, and making same ready for our own use. They (Japs and Americans) were still fighting in the bushes, but the “Y” was not to be stopped. We dood it. While here, we also got our first taste of tending a squadron, VPB-18 by name, and all of us have no trouble recollecting those hectic days.

On 12 September, we moved from our anchorage in Saipan and joined the POCOMOKE, CHANDELEUR, ONSLOW, and MACKINAC to form the Seaplaine Group which was to participate in the job of “taking over” the Palau Islands. We arrived on the afternoon of D plus l or 16 September, and after successfully eluding several hundred mines, finally came to rest at Kossol Roads and set up shop. This time our squadron was VPB-216. There is still much haggling aboard as to wether our job at Kossol Roads or our later exploits at Okinawa can rightly claim the title, (our most choice duty).

Our staunch little craft was not to be left to die at Palau, though we were beginning to wonder. As a result of someone’s sympathetic streak getting the better of them, we took off for Ulithi in the Western Carolines, arriving there 10 November—minus a squadron! There was also a catch to this, for on 24 November, we went into a float-in drydock, the U.S.S. ARD-15. Amen

Departing from Ulithi on 29 November, we arrived at Apra Harbor, Guam, on the afternoon of the 30th, just in time to have our Thanksgiving turkey that night. We left there on 2 December, arriving at Saipan at 1700 the same afternoon. The latter we found quite well settled down and civilized since our first visit.

We enjoyed several recreation parties on Saipan this time. It was here that the YAKUTAT’S “”Bobby” Duke, RM1c became king of the light weight boxers on the island by disposing of some rather rugged dogfaces and leathernecks in the course of a tournament. The nights, however, had a tendency to become just a little bit long. This can be pinned directly on the fact that our little yellow friends were at the time in the process of trying to destroy everything that would fly—and a lot that wouldn’t. They themselves were running down from Iwo Jima to take a couple of pot shots at the newly arrived B-29’s, but we can safely say that many of them never saw the Land of the Rising Sun again. Christmas Day of 1944 was spent there, and Christmas night of 1944 at general quarters. Remember?

Came the dawn of 17 January 1945, and the YAKUTAT was en route to Palau again, with a short stop at Guam. We dropped the anchor, chain and all at Kossol on 21 January. This time we put the seadrome out of commission, and returned to Ulithi, arriving on 7 February. Mog Mog[4] again until the 25th when we returned to Saipan, which we thought was our home port by this time. Such was not to be our good fortune as we soon learned.

On 23 March, we left Saipan for the last time to date. In company with the CHANDELEUR, HAMLIN, ST. GEORGE, ONSLOW, SHELIKOF, and BERING STRAIT, we set a rather wobbly zig-zag course for a group of islands known as Kerama Retto, in the Ryukyus.[5] Here we went into Seaplane tending and General Quarters business on a wholesale basis. This time we had a squadron VPB-27 based aboard, and except for a few minor inconveniences such as suicide planes, typhoons, rain, blackouts, no sleep and a few others: all was strictly peace and quiet, even though three days after our arrival, some 20 miles away at an island named Okinawa Shima the fighting Navy proceeded to cover the Dogfaces and Leathernecks in their landing on same Shima. Results were most horrifying – - for the Japanese.

We pulled up the mud hook at Kerama on 15 July, and moved to Chimu Wan, same Shima, dropped hook and took up where we left off at Kerama. At about this time, the full realization of just what they were after with the music back at Pearl Harbor hit us squarely between eyes.

On 20 September, we left our beloved Shima and joined some of the boys from the other side of the tracks—the TENNESSEE, CALIFORNIA, SANTEE, and a couple herds of tincans for a two-day trip to the destination that would not be denied—JAPAN. We arrived in the Empire on 22 September 1945, and took up our duties at Wakayama in connection with occupation.

Came 12 October, we again dragged up the hook and took off for the once formidable Jap Naval Arsenal of Kure, to service courier flights.

Arriving at Kure on the 13th, many of us got our first look at Jap Naval Units. Our seadrome was set up in the area surrounding the remnants of the Japanese battleship HYUGA, which was easily seen by all hands to be resting on the bottom, a tribute to American guns and gunners. Many other units from carriers on down are here, dispersed in the many coves and in various states of disrepair, thanks to the “airdales” of Task Force 58.

At this writing, here we sit while scuttlebutt about our return home, or rather the lack of it flies thick and fast. In spite of all the hot air that is to be found in huge quantities throughout the ship, we are still sitting here at Hiro Wan, near Kure, on Honshu, Japan—waiting to go somewhere also—you guess where.

PART II TABULATION OF STUFF OR HOW LONG WILL IT TAKE TO GET 44 POINTS? edit

This section will be a tabulation of some facts about the ship (maybe) what’s happened, and in some cases, why. All figures are up to 18 October 1945.

Air Rapids

Palau 3 Saipan 32 Kerama Retto 334 Chimu Wan 25 The surrender cut our air raids.

394 No drills were counted

Sub Attacks Ulithi 1 (enough)

Typhoons

Palau 1 Saipan 1 Okinawa 3 (one of which may be classed as dilly) Japan 2 (standby – more to follow)

BATTLE INJURIES

Three of the YAKUTAT’S personnel have earned Purple Hearts while aboard.[6] They were presented to W, C. Hanson, SClc; H. Kaplan, Slc: Kerama Retto. None of the crew has died, although one man brought aboard from the Seaplane Base at Saipan later died aboard.

Personnel Situation

As a shining ray of light for those of you who are looking for dear old Stateside, the following is furnished.

Personnel received 92

Personnel transferred 154

Awards

Those who have been with us thus far, and are still kicking, may display the following “Commando” ribbons upon your return to the land of dress blues and white women:

a)World War II Victory Medal b)American Campaign Medal c)Asiatic-Pacific Campaign Medal, with three bronze stars, one for the occupation of Saipan, one for the invasion and occupation of Palau., and one for the invasion and occupation of Okinawa.

No, you do not rate a Proximity Medal or a Typhoon Medal. However, in all probability, you will be entitled to the Japanese Occupation Medal if and when it is authorized. There is no definite information on this Occupation Medal, but it is safe to assume that a clasp will not be authorized for the battle of the Ship’s Store, wherein forty crewmen and six officers were trampled trying to buy cigarettes and soap for bartering purposes.

PART III THE FIRST LIAR DOESN’T HAVE A CHANCE OR WHAT DID YOU DO IN THE WAR, FATHER? edit

This is the section that we promised you right from the start, the dope in black and white to back up your lies upon your return home. For instance, (this is for the benefit of whoever doubts you) the following did happen during the cruise of the “Y”, subscribed and sworn before me this date:

1. The “Y” sent a landing force ashore at Saipan armed with .30 cal. rifles and .45 ammunition.

2. Fifty extra cops were ordered from Los Angeles to quell the riot during our stay in San Pedro.

3. Ragan, CMB, and then our Chief Master-at-Arms, held reveille on our only corpse.

4.. Joe Costa, Slc, wouldn’t work on the barge at Kerma until someone, preferably Joe Costa, had disposed of a nearby Jap.

5. When someone told our First Lieutenant, Lt. (jg) Davis, to “House the anchor,” the reply was, “Fine, how’s yours?”

6. While swimming at Kwajalein, “Slim Wright, BMlc did assault “Barracuda” Hanson, SC1c with an empty Coke jug, thus giving Hanson his quaint nickname.

7. Upon receiving orders to “Let go the starboard anchor,” when anchoring at Palau, Lt (jg) Howard did let go the anchor and 125 fathoms of chain, all the way.

8. “Jack” Scott, Cox, and Proto, our Irish S1c, in riding the gunwales of a Jap dugout in an effort to keep from getting wet—did upset same dugout and their plans for keeping dry. This was the last of the “Sad Saki”.

9. The bottom of this vessel was sandpapered while in drydock at Ulithi.

10. Ens. Arlie Bingham, our Chief Engineer, did mount the stack and play “Home, Sweet Home” on the various whistles and sirens while entering the channel at Ulithi.

11. “Bill” Hofius, Slc & Captain’s Orderly de 1uxe, did hit the “Old Man” for a dime to buy ice cream.

12. Graves, S1c in the Gunner’s gang had a great time wetting Capt. Fraser’s fishing line that night, didn’t he?

13. The time the typhoon hit Okinawa and two PBM’s broke loose and kamikazed the “Y”—after the war was over – - should bring back some memories.

14. “Ace” Siddens, S1c, skipper of our #4 rearming boat still doesn’t mind going out in a storm if they’ll give him a boat that runs.

15. Remember that Sunday morning in Kerama when our church party saw the light, took the pledge and became hard, fast Christians through the medium of only one Kamikaze hit on the St. George’s fantail during divine services?

16. Then Machinist “Pappy” Sims reconstructed a Jap suicide boat on the fantail and got it ready for launching, only to have the concussion of gun 53” blow it sky high during GQ.

17. Just in case you’re doubting the returning veteran, there was a dog at Keramo which swam back to the ship four times in one day, after having been deposited on the beach.

18. Famous last words: “Don’t drop the load until you have permission from the Officer of the Dock.” --- “Come alongside and take the worm in tow.” \ 19. That short guy with the spray gun in the shipyard in San Pedro. I wonder how many guys he painted trying to hit the ship?

20. “Fatboy” Steele, AMMH1c, is still trying to find out the password at Zamami Jima.

21. “Pappy” Patrick, S1c, will vouch for the way the “Black Widows” took care of us at Saipan.

22. Our pooch mascot, “Rusty” wouldn’t move in the morning until she had a shot of jamoko with the boys—with cream and sugar.

23. “John L. Sullivan” Houpt, TM2c, came back from a big liberty in Pearl Harbor and decided to teach the boys discipline—one at a time.

24. “Barney” Blough, SSML2c, really did have to use a life preserver to get out of the laundry one day.

25. “Bill” Booth, QM2c, does have a cousin on every ship in the Pacific Fleet, especially the HOPE.

26. MAKE SMOKE!!

WE CAME, WE SAW, WE CONQUERED OR IT COULD HAPPEN ONLY ON THE “Y”. edit

In spite of the many eccentric happenings tabulated above, and what may appear to the layman to be the perfect example of how not to run a naval vessel, the YAKUTAT has done an excellent job out here. At least we dare anyone from any other AVP to change our minds on that score.

While not classified strictly as a combatant vessel, but rather as one of the long line of fleet auxiliaries, the action of our ship and crew during those dark days and long nights at Saipan, Palau, and Okinawa proved to many higher ups just what one of those small units can produce when the chips are down. The actions of our Aircraft Maintenance Unit has been highly praised by all who have come in contact with the results of their labors. Our boat crews have rescued some 50 persons from the briny deep since our arrival in the Forward Area 16 months ago. In this connection, the work of such stalwarts with the boats “Rugged” Bermudoz, S1c: “Chicken” Knight, S1c “Mike” Motel, S1c: “Slim” Wright, Bmlc; “Noodles” Fisher BM2c, and Lt (jg) “Willie” Marshall cannot be too highly praised. In addition, we have delivered some 2,500,000 gallons of aviation gasoline to such assorted craft as PBM’s PBY’s, Torpedo Boats, LCT’s and AVP’s to mention a few. Our prime achievement in the deliver of gasoline was the feat of pumping 2300 gallons into a thirsty PBM of VPB-27 in nine minutes flat.

These are only a few of our accomplishments since joining the Fifth Fleet at Saipan in July 1944. Our highly successful experiments and performances cannot be traced to any man, men, division or department due to a combination of efforts on the part of all.

It is our sincere hope that this little speel will keep you from forgetting all of us in the years to come. We have tried to compile all this dope in a manner which we hope will ruin a page of your scrapbook for a long time to come. It will also be very handy for lighting a cigarette or two.

All of us can look back on our cruise aboard the YAKUTAT with the memory of at least one good liberty, or some funny happening, I am sure. It is the wish of the writer that from time to time, in time to come, one or more of these good liberties or funny happenings will be refreshed in your memory and found good for another laugh, or at least a partial smirk. [7]

  1. ^ Bingham’s heroism was rewarded for action before being transferred to the Yakutat.
  2. ^ The reference to a “fighting ship” came after a liberty in San Pedro. Some of the crew took a “red car” into L.A. for activity which left several of them in the brig. A merchant marine in the Victory café insulted one of the Yakutat’s “old salts”, nicknamed “Frenchy”. Frenchy was an older seaman of 36 years of age and of relatively small stature. Frenchy cleaned the café up with very little assistance from his shipmates.
  3. ^ The catch was that the mighty Y was getting sent to a forward operating position, more forward than their "fleet auxiliary" classification might have reassured the ship’s company.
  4. ^ Mog Mog was known as the “green beer” island. It was used for recreation. Sailors were given a ration of two cans of “green” beer upon liberty there.
  5. ^ Upon arrival at Kerama Retto, Tokyo rose welcomed the mighty Y and named some of the crew members on board. She ended her greeting with “see you tonight boys”.
  6. ^ The seamen that were rewarded purple hearts were manning a 20mm gun when they were blown from their position. The ship was at general quarters and there was enemy fire directed at nearby ships but none directed at the Y. No one saw what happened just that the men had been blown from their position. It was speculated by many of the crew that the damage was due to poor fire control from another US ship rather than enemy fire.
  7. ^ The Yakutat newsletter is furnished by Petty Officer, 3rd class Glen D. Hundley. Glen served as the Fire Control man (right braid) from 31 March 1944 to 31 January 1946. This newsletter was written by Ensign Walker who kept a non-official journal of the ship’s activities during the Yakutat’s deployment in the pacific theater. The cover was done by a member of the ship’s company, RE Johnson. At the time of this newsletter’s issue, the ship was deployed near Kure, Japan during the occupation. The text here was typed from the original copy issued by Ensign Walker.