Ch 32 - Grey Cruise Ship to Home

CHAPTER 32

GRAY CRUISE SHIP TO HOME

When I shuffled up the gangplank and boarded the gray colored Navy ship, I held hopes that we indeed were going home. The ship was a Navy attack transport I was told, and I was assigned a bunk in a smallish “squadroom” that housed twenty four bunks. Once I had deposited my bag on one of the bottom bunks, I climbed the ladder to the upper deck and watched all of the activity on the dock. I also watched as men continued to board the ship. I failed to recognize anyone and decided to wander back and see what else I might see. I did find the small PX, and the mess hall where I would probably eat. When I returned to the bow of the ship I learned from a crewman we would sail around noon. I went back down to my cabin and found notices had been posted detailing the mess operation, PX hours and other information. I saw only half the bunks were occupied at this time and if we were sailing at noon, perhaps the ship was not crammed with personnel.

Noise of loading continued for the next two hours, and then quiet began to settle over the ship. I asked for the time, and one the men said it was 11:00. I decided to go up to the galley and search for food. When I entered the mess hall I learned I could eat whenever I wished, and I asked if I might eat something now.

“Of course!” was the answer.

The tables were of the stand-up type and I soon had a plate of food I couldn’t have finished in a week. I told the mess cook I couldn’t possibly eat that much and the answer was “Eat what you can, and the coffee and milk are in those vats over there. Just help yourself.”

About this time, three others walked into the mess hall and were awarded similar information. I found the food good, ate what I could, then took my plate to the window, scraped my plate and deposited it into the container. I decided to go forward and check the progress of the crew’s preparation to sail.

While in the passageway between the mess hall and forward well deck I heard the whistle sound and was sure we would soon get under way. Once I was outside, I found we were moving out from the dock! We were on our way home! The ship made slow progress out toward the breakwater. Now I saw why we were moving very slowly. Superstructures of sunken ships broke the surface of the water in all directions! Little time had elapsed since the war’s end and the cleanup of Manila Bay had hardly started. It was obvious the American bombers had caught numerous Japanese ships at anchor in the bay!

I looked over my shoulder to the right of the ship and discovered sunken ships littered the bay in that direction also. The scrappers would have a field day in Manila Bay in the near future! Some of the sunken ships displayed only one or two masts, while others offered the complete superstructure for all eyes to view. Now the hulks became fewer, and Cavite, the site of the former American Navy Base, appeared ahead, and to the south. Few details could be discerned, but more wreckage of bombed ships appeared closer to the shoreline.

The ship picked up speed and the bow now pointed to the South Channel and the exit from Manila Bay into the South China Sea. From overheard remarks, I guessed that I was not alone as I gawked for my first view of Corregidor and the Channel Islands. Moving to the other side of the ship I was rewarded with my first my first return glimpse of the island . From this distance, it offered only a low silhouette on the horizon. I strained my eyes in an attempt to anything recognizable, but we would have to move much closer to the island before this would be possible. I waited impatiently as the ship progressed through the calm water. Now I could perceive the narrow shape of Ft. Hughes protruding from the water just to the south of Corregidor. I could see nothing of Ft. Drum, and I assumed it to be dead ahead of the ship.

The ship seemed to be crawling, but now, Malinta Hill had separated from the large part of the island, and the knife edged shape of Hooker Point was evident. Knowing the impossibility of seeing Battery Ramsey, I still attempted to see anything of Battery Hartford until my eyes burned and watered. Someone ahead of me shouted that we would pass very near to Ft. Drum, and that I wanted to see!

Corregidor offered few details even at this distance, and I joined the others stretching to see the concrete battleship as it came into our view. It was close! As we drew even with Drum, I was shocked by the forbidding sight! Only the two gun turrets protruded from the deck of the once formidable fort! The scarred decks were pockmarked from hits by Jap 240mm shells, and American bombs. Several feet of one of the 14” gun tubes had been sheered off and lay on the gun deck near the turret. Ft. Drum had endured a terrific pounding from Jap artillery, had weathered every barrage, and had, on request, delivered the huge 14” projectiles into Bataan seeking out Japanese artillery positions firing on Corregidor, or firing road interdiction near Cabcaben. My thoughts were with the crew of Ft. Drum, they who refused to give up until ordered by headquarters to cease fighting.

As the old concrete hulk faded behind us, I looked for the last time at Corregidor, where I grew up in a hurry. I supposed it was time to look ahead, to whatever was before me. I moved again, to the left side of the ship to watch for Ft. Frank which was already in view just to the south of the ship. As with Corregidor, few details of the island were visible as we passed by to the north. The gun positions were invisible and I shifted my gaze to the mainland, just beyond Frank.

The ship continued to push through the sparkling water, and soon began swinging southward along the western coast of Luzon. Heavy jungle could be seen covering the terrain, as far inland as the eye could reach. To the west, Lubang Island was now visible, a low hump on the horizon. Mindoro was due south of ship, and I assumed correctly we would pass thru the Verde Island Passage, between the island of Mindoro and Batangas which was located on Luzon. I grew tired of standing and decided to inquire of our course and next destination. I learned the ship would sail thru the islands south, and pass through the San Bernardino Strait. Information on our destination seemed to be unavailable. One of the crewmen passed the word that we would be picking up other groups on the way back. I asked where would we be picking them up and he pleaded ignorance. That was interesting.

Lying on my bunk later, I realized this was the first occasion I was without any close friends. I had discovered there was no one on the ship I had served with, nor had I encountered anyone I had been incarcerated with in any of the prison camps! It seemed strange to be without close friends since friendship furnished strength to endure the hardship faced by all of us during these past four years. Spence and I would surely have been classified as loners before the war, but during the battle of Corregidor, we were located at different positions. Now, aboard this ship, I felt little in common with anyone. I felt somehow, I was going home and that was the important thing.

I decided to find a room someone on deck had described. The man had told another fellow that books and magazines, plus several newspapers were in racks in the room, and there was some chairs to sit down and read. I managed several inquiries on the way and finally located the place aft on the main deck. I grabbed a newspaper first since I was starved for news. I noticed a sign that forbid taking any of the reading material from the room and accepting that, I whiled away many hours in this reading room, my eyes voraciously capturing each account of world events.

The time dragged by as the ship slid between the islands. During one morning, as the ship ploughed through the quiet sea, news and music over the speakers furnished entertainment and cut the boredom. An announcement of an impending island stop the following day aroused everyone’s interest! The speaker mentioned we would stop for several hours to pick up more personnel, and also deliver mail and supplies.

At approximately 6:00 am the ship dropped anchor near the island which offered little to see. Boats came out from a pier protected by a curved breakwater connected to the land at the west end. Two of the boats tied up alongside and soon the ship’s crew busied themselves passing cartons and large bags to the crews of the boats. Each of the small boats carried two loads, then on their third trip to our ship each brought 12 to 15 men, each carrying a bag similar to a sea bag. The men climbed the ladder up to the main deck. Apparently these men were going home also, and they were all smiles as they were directed to their sleeping quarters. After breakfast it was announced the men were SeaBees.

Before the new passengers reached their assigned cabin, the anchor chain was rattling through the anchor ports and the ship was jumping with activity. Again we were on our way!

I climbed the ladder to the upper deck. The sea was smooth and the sun was warm as I watched the porpoise’s playing and rolling in the bow wave. Scanning the horizon, I found nothing. We were alone as the ship cut through the placid water. I ventured to the galley to seek some food, and found several others already there, some with food, others drinking coffee and nibbling at rolls. I overheard one of the men informing the others the ship would be stopping at Ulithi to pick up more passengers. I had never heard of such a place, but the others seem to recognize the name. One of the men told of being there for several days waiting for equipment to arrive. His description of the facilities there indicated it was barren of fun activities, and not very exciting for anyone other than beachcombers.

The ship arrived at Ulithi just before noon. The number of ships anchored in the bay was astounding. I could not remember seeing this many ships clustered together in one area. Most were freighters and tankers, with a number of warships sprinkled about. Nothing big, but numerous destroyers and light cruisers. Several boats with blunt bows moved back and forth between the larger ships. When I asked one fellow what they were, he gave me a funny look, then explained they were landing craft. He pointed at three of the strange looking vessels and indicated that each was used for a different purpose. One very large one anchored nearby was an LST, “Landing Ship Tank” he said.

“These”, he said, “carry tanks and heavy equipment.” The other two he had pointed out, were used for landing troops onto beaches.

“You haven’t seen these before?” he asked curiously.

I explained to him I had been in Jap prison camps throughout the war and everything was new to me. He was shocked, and began to apologize, and I laughed and told him there was no way for him to know. He insisted I join him for some coffee in the galley and I nodded and followed him back through the companionway and through the door into the galley. We proceeded to the coffee urns, grabbed a cup each and sat down in a booth near a porthole. The large open area of the mess room was filled with tall tables that required the men to stand up while eating, but along the one wall, three booths were bolted to the wall. Hardly had we hit the bench when two other fellows approached, spoke to the man across from me. He called them by name, suggested they grab a cup and join us. After they had sat down, the man I had met on deck told them that I was a Jap prisoner through the “whole damn war!” and he was dying to ask me about the experience.

The three fellows introduced themselves, then proceeded to ply me with questions. When they learned I had been captured on Corregidor, they began asking questions all at once. Needless to say, the questions kept coming for the next two hours! We finally broke up with my promise to get together with them again.

I returned to the forward deck to watch the action, and the nearby ship movements. I arrived just in time to see one of the smaller landing craft approaching our ship. As it pulled up, I saw that twenty to thirty men standing in the boat looking up at us. Shortly, the men were laboring up the steps with their bags. They too were led off into the bowels of the ship to seek bunks. That evening, I had the pleasure of meeting some of these new men and I learned that they were Rangers! During my sojourn at the 29th Replacement Depot I heard the marvelous stories about the Rangers that liberated Cabanatuan, and I now had a healthy respect for Rangers!

Days rolled by, and the ship continued on through the calm seas. Each day we were informed just how many days we were out of Pearl Harbor. Anxiety began to build as we neared Pearl. Many of the men continued to stay on deck and watch for land! I realized I hadn’t cast eyes on Hawaii since early in 1941! It hardly seemed possible that it was now 1945! When we finally did reach Pearl, I am positive no one was below deck other than the crew in the engine room!

What an incredible sight it was! Diamond Head slid by, then, closer to the beach we could see Waikiki Beach and the hotel! Long before the ship approached the dock, we had been informed there would be no shore leave! After all, the Captain said, “if this bunch were to get to the beach, most would never be seen again! I was inclined to agree with him. We remained at Pearl Harbor for about a day and a half. More people boarded the ship, plus many crates. The whistle sounded, a tug approached the ship to guide us from the pier, and again we were on our way, bound for San Francisco and home!

Two days out of Pearl and during the noon meal, the Captain’s voice sounded on the speakers. He informed us orders had just been received to divert to Seattle, that the facilities in San Francisco were overloaded. We were all shocked! It was the dream of everyone to sail under the Golden Gate Bridge, and into the bay and be rewarded with the skyline of San Francisco. Apparently it wasn’t going to happen that way. The ship indeed changed course, obviously a course for Seattle! Everywhere on the ship, conversation was dominated by one subject, we would not be marching in triumph thru Frisco. There would be no San Francisco welcome.

The rest of the “voyage” was dismal and unpleasant. When the speakers informed us we were nearing Puget Sound, it could not be proven by me! A heavy fog had settled on the coast and I wondered how they could possibly know where we were! Fog horns could be heard in the distance, and occasionally the ship’s horn sounded. I walked out on deck again and stood by the rail. It was obvious the ship had slowed, and was proceeding with caution. It seemed like hours before we docked, heavy fog was everywhere and dim lights could barely be seen on the pier. The speakers notified all passengers that debarking would begin in two hours and please have all belongings packed. I checked my small calendar and found the voyage had lasted twenty-one days! One day less than that of the Republic five years earlier!

CHAPTER 33

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