Criteria The Navy Good Conduct Medal (NGCM) is a decoration presented by the United States Navy to recognize members who have completed three years of honorable service. Medals awarded before January 1, 1996 r... The Navy Good Conduct Medal (NGCM) is a decoration presented by the United States Navy to recognize members who have completed three years of honorable service. Medals awarded before January 1, 1996 required four years of service. MoreHide
Criteria The ribbon is awarded to non-career Recruiting Force and Non-Naval Reserve Canvasser Recruiter personnel upon completion of a successful tour of duty in recruiting at the recommendation of their comma... The ribbon is awarded to non-career Recruiting Force and Non-Naval Reserve Canvasser Recruiter personnel upon completion of a successful tour of duty in recruiting at the recommendation of their commanding officer or officer in charge. Career Recruiting Force personnel, Campus Liaison Officers, and Recruiting District Assistance Council members are eligible for the ribbon upon each completion of three consecutive years of recruiting duty. MoreHide
Best Friends
NCCM Rick Pingre NCCS Ron Milner PO2 Bill Thomas//DPCS Ken Berlin SKC Joe Jacobs//GMG2 Bob Farris CPO Hank Webster MMCM Rankin// PO1 Bob Gillis PNCS Ed Helms// YN1 Carl Dent
Best Moment
Selection as Zone Supervisor of Quarter 4th Qtr. 1982. Selection for advancement to NCCM Aug 1983.
Worst Moment
Decision to Retire Oct. 1983, in Aug. 1984 after discovering available duty assignments. NRD New york, Chief Recruiter NRD Chicago, Zone Supervisor USS America CVA-66 Command NC (Deploying ten days after reporting).
Chain of Command
CO. Capt. J.C.Toland XO. CDR. J.D.Firnbach Chief Recruiter: NCCM Rick Pingrey
Best Friends
NCCS Ronnie Milner BMC John Woodruff PO2 Bill Thomas//DPCS Ken Berlin SKC Joe Jacobs// GMG2 Bob Farris CPO Hank Webster PO1 Bob Gillis PNCS Ed Helms// YN1 Carl Dent
Best Moment
Promoted to Recruiter in Charge of NRS Roanoke. JUN 1980 Promoted to Western Zone Supervisor. AUG.1981
Worst Moment
Capt Suze's tour of the Western Zone During an Ice Storm and following blizzard of 1982
Chain of Command
CO. Capt. B.J.Suze XO. CDR. J.D.Firnbach Chief Recruiter: NCCS Ronnie Milner
Other Memories
Quarterly All Hands Conferences: Virginia Beach, Va. Bryce Mt. Ski resort State capital, Richmond, Virginia Race Day at Martinsville Speedway
Criteria The Navy Good Conduct Medal (NGCM) is a decoration presented by the United States Navy to recognize members who have completed three years of honorable service. Medals awarded before January 1, 1996 r... The Navy Good Conduct Medal (NGCM) is a decoration presented by the United States Navy to recognize members who have completed three years of honorable service. Medals awarded before January 1, 1996 required four years of service. MoreHide
Criteria The Meritorious Unit Commendation may be awarded by the Secretary of the Navy to any unit of the Navy or Marine Corps that distinguishes itself under combat or noncombat conditions by either valorous ... The Meritorious Unit Commendation may be awarded by the Secretary of the Navy to any unit of the Navy or Marine Corps that distinguishes itself under combat or noncombat conditions by either valorous or meritorious achievement which renders that unit outstanding compared to other units performing similar service, but not sufficient to justify the award of the Navy Unit Commendation. MoreHide
Description
Awarded to Recruiting Area 4, for achieveing 117% of goal for year 1980.
The following "Tribute of a Marine," quoted in part, was written by former Assistant Secretary of the Navy James D. Hittle. It is printed here to provide an insight into the character of the man in whose honor this ship is named.
I had the great personal fortune of knowing Elmer Montgomery. We first met on Guam in late 1944. We needed a clerk typist, Sgt. Montgomery reported. Work piled high and the hours were long in that little quonset hut office, but when Elmer did have a moment, he would lean his chair against the wall and pull a small, white leather-covered Bible from his hip pocket. Wherever the Bible fell open in his hand he would begin to read - and find serenity.
The other NCO's had trouble figuring Elmer, but they liked him. He was quiet and a bit withdrawn, but he was no "loner." He could chuckle at a bawdy joke and join in the bull sessions, though he winced at some of the more earthy profanity.
In February we sailed for Iwo Jima. After several days of fierce fighting, division staff sections were ordered to provide replacements for badly mauled front-line units; I had to provide two. I selected the two I thought could best be spared from my supply operation. I was just about to send the names to the division adjutant when my executive officer popped into my dugout. Sgt. Montgomery wanted to see me.
The sergeant saluted and informed me he had heard about the call for reinforcements. "You're not one of them", I told him; thinking it would put his mind at ease. "That's what I want talk to you about, Colonel," he said, "I want to go forward." I explained that I considered him essential to our supply mission -and for the first time he argued. He wasn't loud, but he was firm. "I'll never feel right if I don't go up when I'm needed," the said. "I'm needed now. I'm older than most of these kids. I've had a lot of experience looking after myself while hunting back home in Montana. I can look after them up forward." I realized he wouldn't take no for an answer. I never saw Elmer again.
A Marine from his frontline unit told me the story. The platoon commander had been killed and Elmer was assigned under a staff sergeant as assistant platoon commander. The order came to attack. The patched up platoon moved across a slight rise to and into a small saucer-shaped area where it was pinned down by a carefully camouflaged Japanese machine gun. If they stayed, they would soon be blasted apart by mortars. Elmer crawled and rolled within yelling distance of the staff sergeant. The Marine who told me the story paused, pulled on his cigarette and pressed a bandage on his arm tighter against his own wound. Sgt. Montgomery yelled, "when I draw the fire, roll the platoon over the rise." And while the platoon commander was saying "no," Sgt. Montgomery stood up and firing his rifle from his hip, walked into the machine gun. "We're here because he drew the fire long enough for us to slide back over the rise."
They never found Elmer. A few minutes after his platoon reached safety, our artillery laid down a barrage on the machine gun emplacement. The big shells churned the ground and everything on it mercilessly. He and his little white leather-covered Bible became, forever, part of the hallowed ground of Iwo Jima.
I suppose memories fade and maybe Sgt. Montgomery's decoration for bravery is almost forgotten, but whenever I think back to all the brave men I have been privileged to know, Elmer heads the list.
Criteria The Navy and Marine Corps Achievement Medal may be awarded to members of the Armed Forces in the grades of lieutenant commander (or major) and below. It is awarded for meritorious service or achieveme... The Navy and Marine Corps Achievement Medal may be awarded to members of the Armed Forces in the grades of lieutenant commander (or major) and below. It is awarded for meritorious service or achievement in either combat or noncombat based on sustained performance or specific achievement of a superlative nature but which does not warrant a Navy Commendation Medal or higher. It may not be awarded for service involving participation in aerial flight after January 1, 1969. MoreHide
Comments
Service onboard U.S.S. Elmer Montgomery (FF-1082)as Command Career Counselor. Mar 1975 to Feb 1979, for achieving an average reenlistment rate of 43%.
Criteria The Sea Service Deployment Ribbon is awarded to members of the Navy and Marine Corps assigned to U.S. homeported (including Hawaii and Alaska) ships, deploying units, or Fleet Marine Force commands, f... The Sea Service Deployment Ribbon is awarded to members of the Navy and Marine Corps assigned to U.S. homeported (including Hawaii and Alaska) ships, deploying units, or Fleet Marine Force commands, for 12 months accumulated sea duty, or for duty with the Fleet Marine Force that includes at least one deployment of 90 consecutive days. MoreHide
Description
Elmer Montgomery (FF-1082): Med Deployment-Aug 1978 to Feb 1979
Criteria The U.S. Navy has issued two marksmanship ribbons: the Navy Pistol Marksmanship Ribbon and Navy Rifle Marksmanship Ribbon, since 1920. The pistol ribbon is currently awarded for qualification on the B... The U.S. Navy has issued two marksmanship ribbons: the Navy Pistol Marksmanship Ribbon and Navy Rifle Marksmanship Ribbon, since 1920. The pistol ribbon is currently awarded for qualification on the Beretta 9mm pistol, while the rifle ribbon is currently awarded for qualification on the M14 and M16 assault rifle variants. The Navy issues the marksmanship ribbon in three levels, that of Marksman, Sharpshooter, and Expert. The basic ribbon is awarded for the Marksman level while the specific Marksmanship Device is awarded for qualification as a Sharpshooter or Expert. Those receiving an Expert qualification receive the Marksmanship Medal, in addition to the Marksmanship Ribbon. MoreHide
Criteria The Navy Good Conduct Medal (NGCM) is a decoration presented by the United States Navy to recognize members who have completed three years of honorable service. Medals awarded before January 1, 1996 r... The Navy Good Conduct Medal (NGCM) is a decoration presented by the United States Navy to recognize members who have completed three years of honorable service. Medals awarded before January 1, 1996 required four years of service. MoreHide
Criteria The Armed Forces Expeditionary Medal is awarded to members of the Armed Forces who, after July 1, 1958, participate in specified United States operations or those in direct support of the United Natio... The Armed Forces Expeditionary Medal is awarded to members of the Armed Forces who, after July 1, 1958, participate in specified United States operations or those in direct support of the United Nations or friendly foreign nations MoreHide
Criteria The Sea Service Deployment Ribbon is awarded to members of the Navy and Marine Corps assigned to U.S. homeported (including Hawaii and Alaska) ships, deploying units, or Fleet Marine Force commands, f... The Sea Service Deployment Ribbon is awarded to members of the Navy and Marine Corps assigned to U.S. homeported (including Hawaii and Alaska) ships, deploying units, or Fleet Marine Force commands, for 12 months accumulated sea duty, or for duty with the Fleet Marine Force that includes at least one deployment of 90 consecutive days. MoreHide
Description
Elmer Montgomery (FF-1082): Med Deployment-Aug 1976 to Mar 1977
Criteria The U.S. Navy has issued two marksmanship ribbons: the Navy Pistol Marksmanship Ribbon and Navy Rifle Marksmanship Ribbon, since 1920. The pistol ribbon is currently awarded for qualification on the B... The U.S. Navy has issued two marksmanship ribbons: the Navy Pistol Marksmanship Ribbon and Navy Rifle Marksmanship Ribbon, since 1920. The pistol ribbon is currently awarded for qualification on the Beretta 9mm pistol, while the rifle ribbon is currently awarded for qualification on the M14 and M16 assault rifle variants. The Navy issues the marksmanship ribbon in three levels, that of Marksman, Sharpshooter, and Expert. The basic ribbon is awarded for the Marksman level while the specific Marksmanship Device is awarded for qualification as a Sharpshooter or Expert. Those receiving an Expert qualification receive the Marksmanship Medal, in addition to the Marksmanship Ribbon. MoreHide
Criteria This ribbon is awarded to officers and enlisted personnel of the Navy, Naval Reserve, Marine Corps, and Marine Corps Reserve for 12 months consecutive or accumulated duty at overseas shore-based duty ... This ribbon is awarded to officers and enlisted personnel of the Navy, Naval Reserve, Marine Corps, and Marine Corps Reserve for 12 months consecutive or accumulated duty at overseas shore-based duty stations. Each Service has distinct criteria that delineates eligibility; Navy personnel assigned to Marine Corps units follow Marine Corps policy, and vice-versa. MoreHide
Criteria The U.S. Navy has issued two marksmanship ribbons: the Navy Pistol Marksmanship Ribbon and Navy Rifle Marksmanship Ribbon, since 1920. The pistol ribbon is currently awarded for qualification on the B... The U.S. Navy has issued two marksmanship ribbons: the Navy Pistol Marksmanship Ribbon and Navy Rifle Marksmanship Ribbon, since 1920. The pistol ribbon is currently awarded for qualification on the Beretta 9mm pistol, while the rifle ribbon is currently awarded for qualification on the M14 and M16 assault rifle variants. The Navy issues the marksmanship ribbon in three levels, that of Marksman, Sharpshooter, and Expert. The basic ribbon is awarded for the Marksman level while the specific Marksmanship Device is awarded for qualification as a Sharpshooter or Expert. Those receiving an Expert qualification receive the Marksmanship Medal, in addition to the Marksmanship Ribbon. MoreHide
Best Moment
Crossing the line, as a Shellback!!!!!! Visit to Massawa, Ethopia Visit to Singapore Visit to Karachi, Pakistan 9 weeks in Subic Bay, Philippines
Worst Moment
Every morning, just before dawn. 100% Humidity. Every afternoon at 1500...120 to 135 degrees
Chain of Command
Commideastfor, Radm Robert J. Hanks Chief of Staff, Capt. Earl H. Graffam Co. Capt. Howard S. Crosby XO. Lcdr. Weldon J. Bowling OPS. Lcdr. Richard C. Rumbaugh Flag Comm. Ltjg. Jeffrey H. Thomas
Other Memories
Visit of Major General George S. Patton Jr. Visit Of Emperor Hali Salassie Of Ethopia First morning of arrival in Bahrain, 0600 New Years Day.......105 degrees!!!!!!! Port visit to Massawa, Ethopia, for International Navy Days. Included; athletic and military bearing compatitions between 11 participating Navy Reps. Formal reception at Emporia Hali Salassi's Palace. Visit to Soviet friget, during hight of cold war.
Criteria The Sea Service Deployment Ribbon is awarded to members of the Navy and Marine Corps assigned to U.S. homeported (including Hawaii and Alaska) ships, deploying units, or Fleet Marine Force commands, f... The Sea Service Deployment Ribbon is awarded to members of the Navy and Marine Corps assigned to U.S. homeported (including Hawaii and Alaska) ships, deploying units, or Fleet Marine Force commands, for 12 months accumulated sea duty, or for duty with the Fleet Marine Force that includes at least one deployment of 90 consecutive days. MoreHide
Description
LaSalle (AGF-3) Homeport Bahrain-Aug 1974 To Jan 1975
Criteria This ribbon is awarded to officers and enlisted personnel of the Navy, Naval Reserve, Marine Corps, and Marine Corps Reserve for 12 months consecutive or accumulated duty at overseas shore-based duty ... This ribbon is awarded to officers and enlisted personnel of the Navy, Naval Reserve, Marine Corps, and Marine Corps Reserve for 12 months consecutive or accumulated duty at overseas shore-based duty stations. Each Service has distinct criteria that delineates eligibility; Navy personnel assigned to Marine Corps units follow Marine Corps policy, and vice-versa. MoreHide
Criteria The Navy Good Conduct Medal (NGCM) is a decoration presented by the United States Navy to recognize members who have completed three years of honorable service. Medals awarded before January 1, 1996 r... The Navy Good Conduct Medal (NGCM) is a decoration presented by the United States Navy to recognize members who have completed three years of honorable service. Medals awarded before January 1, 1996 required four years of service. MoreHide
Criteria The Humanitarian Service Medal is an individual award, presented to individuals who are physically present at the site of immediate relief and who directly contribute to and influence the humanitarian... The Humanitarian Service Medal is an individual award, presented to individuals who are physically present at the site of immediate relief and who directly contribute to and influence the humanitarian action. The Humanitarian Service Medal is only awarded for service during the identified "period of immediate relief;" eligibility for the Humanitarian Service Medal terminates once (if) the humanitarian action evolves into an "established ongoing operation beyond the initial emergency condition." MoreHide
Description
Awarded For service onboard U.S.S.Canisteo (AO-99), for services rendered to the people of Peru, in the aftermath of an earthquake. June 1970
Description Each year about this time, the United States government sponsors a massive military exercise in and around the waters of Puerto Rico. Operation Springboard, a annual Fleet readiness training exercise Each year about this time, the United States government sponsors a massive military exercise in and around the waters of Puerto Rico. Operation Springboard, a annual Fleet readiness training exercise that was scheduled to take place in February, involving eight countries and 60,000 troops. ... More
Criteria This ribbon is awarded to officers and enlisted personnel of the Navy, Naval Reserve, Marine Corps, and Marine Corps Reserve for 12 months consecutive or accumulated duty at overseas shore-based duty ... This ribbon is awarded to officers and enlisted personnel of the Navy, Naval Reserve, Marine Corps, and Marine Corps Reserve for 12 months consecutive or accumulated duty at overseas shore-based duty stations. Each Service has distinct criteria that delineates eligibility; Navy personnel assigned to Marine Corps units follow Marine Corps policy, and vice-versa. MoreHide
Criteria The Navy Good Conduct Medal (NGCM) is a decoration presented by the United States Navy to recognize members who have completed three years of honorable service. Medals awarded before January 1, 1996 r... The Navy Good Conduct Medal (NGCM) is a decoration presented by the United States Navy to recognize members who have completed three years of honorable service. Medals awarded before January 1, 1996 required four years of service. MoreHide
Criteria This medal is awarded to members of the Armed Forces of the United States who: 1. Served for 6 months in South Vietnam during the period 1 Mar 61 and 28 Mar 73; or 2. Served outside the geographical l... This medal is awarded to members of the Armed Forces of the United States who: 1. Served for 6 months in South Vietnam during the period 1 Mar 61 and 28 Mar 73; or 2. Served outside the geographical limits of South Vietnam and contributed direct combat support to the RVN Armed Forces for an aggregate of six months. Only members of the Armed Forces of the United States who meet the criteria established for the AFEM (Vietnam) or Vietnam Service Medal during the period of service required are considered to have contributed direct combat support to the RVN Armed Forces; or 3. Did not complete the length of service required in item (1) or (2) above, but who, during wartime, were: a. Wounded by the enemy (in a military action); b. Captured by the enemy during action or in the line of duty, but later rescued or released; or c. Killed in action or in the line of duty; or 4. Were assigned in Vietnam on 28 Jan 73, and who served a minimum of 60 calendar days in Vietnam during the period 29 Jan 73 to 28 Mar 73. MoreHide
Description Operation Sea Dragon occurred during the Vietnam War and was a series of American-led naval operations beginning in 1966 to interdict sea lines of communications and supply going south from North VietOperation Sea Dragon occurred during the Vietnam War and was a series of American-led naval operations beginning in 1966 to interdict sea lines of communications and supply going south from North Vietnam to South Vietnam, and to destroy land targets with naval gunfire, as well as to give CIA officers in the area who had sited the targets room to withdraw to extraction zones. The primary purpose of Sea Dragon forces was the interception and destruction of waterborne logistic craft (WBLC), which ranged in size from large self-propelled barges down to small junks and sampans. United States Navy advisers were assigned to the South Vietnamese Navy (VNN) and American minesweepers assisted South Vietnamese Navy ships in carrying out patrols near the Demilitarized Zone. Specially modified attack helicopters were used to pursue North Vietnamese ships and disable them, leaving the ships to be boarded by American and South Vietnamese naval commandos.... More
Criteria The Vietnam Service Medal was awarded to members of the Armed Forces of the United States who served at any time between July 4, 1965, and March 28, 1973, in Vietnam or its contiguous waters or airspa... The Vietnam Service Medal was awarded to members of the Armed Forces of the United States who served at any time between July 4, 1965, and March 28, 1973, in Vietnam or its contiguous waters or airspace; or, for any period of service during the same time period in Thailand, Laos, or Cambodia or the air spaces thereover and in direct support of operations in Vietnam. MoreHide
Criteria The Vietnam Service Medal was awarded to members of the Armed Forces of the United States who served at any time between July 4, 1965, and March 28, 1973, in Vietnam or its contiguous waters or airspa... The Vietnam Service Medal was awarded to members of the Armed Forces of the United States who served at any time between July 4, 1965, and March 28, 1973, in Vietnam or its contiguous waters or airspace; or, for any period of service during the same time period in Thailand, Laos, or Cambodia or the air spaces thereover and in direct support of operations in Vietnam. MoreHide
Criteria The Sea Service Deployment Ribbon is awarded to members of the Navy and Marine Corps assigned to U.S. homeported (including Hawaii and Alaska) ships, deploying units, or Fleet Marine Force commands, f... The Sea Service Deployment Ribbon is awarded to members of the Navy and Marine Corps assigned to U.S. homeported (including Hawaii and Alaska) ships, deploying units, or Fleet Marine Force commands, for 12 months accumulated sea duty, or for duty with the Fleet Marine Force that includes at least one deployment of 90 consecutive days. MoreHide
Criteria The Vietnam Service Medal was awarded to members of the Armed Forces of the United States who served at any time between July 4, 1965, and March 28, 1973, in Vietnam or its contiguous waters or airspa... The Vietnam Service Medal was awarded to members of the Armed Forces of the United States who served at any time between July 4, 1965, and March 28, 1973, in Vietnam or its contiguous waters or airspace; or, for any period of service during the same time period in Thailand, Laos, or Cambodia or the air spaces thereover and in direct support of operations in Vietnam. MoreHide
Criteria This medal is awarded to members of the Armed Forces of the United States who: 1. Served for 6 months in South Vietnam during the period 1 Mar 61 and 28 Mar 73; or 2. Served outside the geographical l... This medal is awarded to members of the Armed Forces of the United States who: 1. Served for 6 months in South Vietnam during the period 1 Mar 61 and 28 Mar 73; or 2. Served outside the geographical limits of South Vietnam and contributed direct combat support to the RVN Armed Forces for an aggregate of six months. Only members of the Armed Forces of the United States who meet the criteria established for the AFEM (Vietnam) or Vietnam Service Medal during the period of service required are considered to have contributed direct combat support to the RVN Armed Forces; or 3. Did not complete the length of service required in item (1) or (2) above, but who, during wartime, were: a. Wounded by the enemy (in a military action); b. Captured by the enemy during action or in the line of duty, but later rescued or released; or c. Killed in action or in the line of duty; or 4. Were assigned in Vietnam on 28 Jan 73, and who served a minimum of 60 calendar days in Vietnam during the period 29 Jan 73 to 28 Mar 73. MoreHide
Best Friends
QM3 Leon Hale SM3 Furr SM3 Jerry Strupp RM3 McGinley SM3 R.D.Coffey RM3 Machado SM2 J.G.Sloan RM2 Sader SM1 W.A.Lassiter SM2 Twigg SM3 R. Harper SM1 Snavely
Best Moment
Reporting aboard my first ship for duty 12 March 1962. First forign port visit. San Juan, Porta Rico, January 1963
Worst Moment
First 3 days at sea(during a northeaster)Oct 1962, stayed seasick for all 3 days.
Chain of Command
CDR. J.R.Vallely, CO LCDR. C.L.Noblit, XO LT. J.C.McCoy Jr., OPS LTJG. D.N.Miles, COMM SM1 W.A.Lassiter, LPO
Other Memories
Cuban Missle Crises Blockade, Oct. 1962 Unitus Cruise 1963 Med Cruise 1964 Med Cruise 1965: October 12, 1965, USS FRANKLIN D. ROOSEVELT and the French merchantman CHARLES LE BORGNE collide off southern France. The ROOSEVELT sustains little damage and continues its participation in "Lafayette IX", a two-day bilateral US-French exercise in the western Med. The merchantman sustains minor structural damage and proceeds under its own power to Marseilles, France, escorted by the USS DOUGLAS H. FOX (DD 779). Reported aboard during flooding high tide on 12 March 1962 with no gangway. Had to be hauled aboard in a boatswains chair. V USS Douglas H. Fox DD 779 Commanding Officer (1944-1946) R.M. PITTS Commander, U.S. Navy U.S.S. DOUGLAS H. FOX (DD-779) DD779/A12 DESTROYER ACTION As told by Miles E. Lewis, Chief Yeoman, USNR San Francisco, California "Man for man and gun for gun, the fightingest ship of the Navy." That is what seagoing men think of U.S. Destroyers, the indomitable "tin cans." And one evening off Okinawa Gunto, a former Japanese island, U.S.S. DOUGLAS H. FOX added another page to the glowing chapters of destroyer history. Commanded by Commander Ray M. Pitts, USN, of 333 N. Croft, Hollywood, Calif., she met and defeated an attack by a group of Japanese suicide planes intent on her destruction. In this type of action only one can survive, and once more a gallant destroyer steamed away from the field victorious. All hands will long remember that eventful evening on 17 May 1945. A beautiful orange sun faded beneath the horizon, the warmth of late spring was gone and men on station topside could be seen pulling on their heavy weather jackets to guard against a cool night breeze. The day before had been spent in renewing our supply of ammunition, depleted in a previous action, and only this morning we had put to sea in search of the enemy. In less than twelve hours after weighing anchor, we met him and took his measure. We were looking for trouble of any kind, but expect more opposition from the "Divine Wind", or "Kamikazes," as the Japanese have named their Special Attack Corps of suicide planes. Kamikaze pilots are dedicated to self-destruction; they attend their own funerals before taking off on a one-way trip and believe that they attain Godhood by destroying the Emperors enemies at the cost of their own lives. When a target is sighted they dive their planes into it without hesitation, making no attempt to evade or escape. While our swift Marine Corps Fighters hummed overhead, we felt that our sails were properly reefed to Mr. Tojo's deadly breeze, but with the approach of evening twilight we knew that the day-flying Corsairs must soon return to their island base and we would face the night without their comforting shadows. "Sound General quarters!" The harsh voice of the public address system echoed throughout the ship. Up the ladders from below decks, scrambled the men off watch who had been resting as best they could for the inevitable evening alert. Swiftly they swung out their guns and pulled their battle helmets down over their foreheads. Telephone circuits crackled and became alive with preliminary reports, "Main Battery manned and ready!" "Machine Gun battery manned and ready!" Quietly and with the quick, sure motions that bespeaks careful training, the crew of the DOUGLAS H. FOX prepared for battle. My station was on the bridge alongside the Skipper as his talker on the Captain's Command Circuit. It was my duty to receive the reports from the many groups of the battle organizations through the ship. When they were all ready, to notify the Skipper. This was done in a matter of seconds and he acknowledged my signal, made by forming "O" with thumb and forefinger, with a quick nod. On our bridge we use many hand signals in place of spoken words which are usually drowned out by the roar of gunfire, when action is joined. To call for maximum speed the Skipper would wave one hand in a rapid circular motion over his head, the signal used by aircraft pilots to turn on engines. A distinctive motion of his right arm indicated that he wanted the rudder put hard over in that direction. In anticipation of action, we now reviewed these signals so that our maneuverability could be used to best advantage. The Skipper had in mind making the suicide planes miss the ship in one way or another, just so long as they missed, like the old Galloping Ghost using his famous swivel hips on the gridiron, leaving tacklers strewn in his path. He felt that it should take the best tackler on the Nipponese teams to haul down a scampering FOX. Soon the voice of Lt. Comdr. C. H. Carlos, USN, of Cambridge, Massachusetts, came over the Captain's Telephone, from his station below in Combat Information Center, "There is a bogey (Jap plane) seventy miles west of us." Something told us that we had felt the first light gust of the Divine Wind, In a few minutes Mr. Carlos spoke again. "Combat air patrol is returning to base." Dusk was settling fast and our sky-raiding Marines were being called in. The Captain cleared all telephone circuits with a lifted hand and his talker stood ready to relay a message. "All Stations topside," he said, "if you will look on our starboard beam you can see our Combat Air Patrol. They are on their way home. We are on our own from now on. Heads UP!" Nothing more was needed to bring our crew to peak alertness. The crew, made up of healthy American boys from most of the 48 states, was a good one. Since putting DOUGLAS H. FOX in commission, six months before, the time had been spent in training, shakedown, more training and recently a little action. In general, it had been tiresome and boring, but now we knew the test would come shortly. Much, very much, is expected of a "tin can" sailor. An electric tension spread through the men at their stations. Lookouts were straining their eyes towards the darkening horizon. Gun crews repeatedly inspected their weapons and the ammunition in its ready stowage. The Skipper sat hunched in a seat on the open bridge while our Communications Officer, Ltjg N. H. Witschen, USNR, of Jacksonville, Florida conned the ship. We were ready. A supporting destroyer reported an enemy plane to the west, low on the water. The Divine Wind! Above the pilot house our gun director whined as it trained out to pick up our first target. It seems to those on the bridge that a train is passing overhead when Lieut. J. H. DAVIS, USN, of Kansas City, Missouri, starts driving his director around like a whirling dervish. The huge box-like gun director which carries several men to work its delicate precision instruments, turned its face to the west, came to an abrupt stop, backed up slightly, then settled down to a steady turn, following with its powerful eyes the tiny black speck far out on the horizon. Gun barrels rose and fell as they followed the slow, even motion of the ship, their muzzles like puppies sniffing at a rathole. The Skipper stood silently peering over the starboard bridge wing; he need give no orders, long weeks of training has relegated the authority to join in action to his gunnery officer, and he knew Mr. Davis would start shooting at the proper time. All this takes minutes to tell, but it happened in seconds. Impatiently the Skipper was first on one side of the bridge and then the other. At each new report he would jump to that wing for a look, then signal to Fred Adamak, Coxswain, USNR, of Milwaukee, Wisconsin, at the wheel to turn the ship and engage the most dangerous enemy. Our maneuvers were sharp and fast. Before one turn was completed we were heeling over to start in the opposite direction. Ensign Wallace Follette of Forest Grove, Oregon and his lookouts atop the pilot house were riding their stations like bronco-busters in a rodeo. At one time during the action J. C. Crowe, Yeoman third class, of Catron, Missouri, was seen climbing back up the side of the pilot house like a human fly. He had been catapulted to the deck below by a violent maneuver. Every gun on the ship joined the action and a sheet of flame signaled the end of another Kamikaze. A third dipped his nose into a shallow dive, aimed at our starboard beam. Ellis Parkins, Chief Gunner's mate, USN, of San Antonio, Texas said to Daniel McDevitt, Chief Torpedoman's Mate, of Philadelphia, Penn., "Its him or us!" It was him! Their light machine guns riveted the mark of death across the motor of the onrushing plane. With a tremendous explosion, Mr. Tojo hit the water just 50 yards short of the ship and showered debris all over the gunners who had shot him down. The smoke from our guns lay astern like a shroud across the water. Also our stacks were belching black smoke occasionally as the engineers swung their throttles wide for more speed. Attempting to evade the deadly blast of our guns, the enemy planes dived into the top of our smoke pall and began a semi-obscured run from astern. But they could not avoid the electronic eyes of our radar and we knew exactly where they were and what they were doing. The Skipper passed word below to "knock off the smoke," hoping to bring our pursuers again into full view. From Lt. J.C. Jones of Hattiesburg, Miss., the Engineering officer, came the quick query, "Do you want smoke or speed?" The Skipper grinned, for he knew we needed speed too, and answered, "No smoke," then signaled the rudder hard over in a confusing turn for the half blind Japs astern. They should pop out of the haze and find themselves facing the entire broadside of our anti-aircraft battery. He peered into the smoke cloud astern, there two Nippers out there, both closing. One burst into view and he shouted orders, turning his mount to meet the headlong rush of a Kamikaze. Too close! The machines gun battery would have to take that one; where was the other? "Train left," he called to his trainer, Jesse York, Seaman first class, USNR, of Markham, Texas. "Number two ought to be dead astern!" One quick glance at the blazing red emblems on the Jap wing was all Frank Coultas, Seaman first class, USNR, of Portland, Oregon, pointer, needed. He heard "ready" reports from the Gun Captains behind him; a slight pressure on the handwheels brought his crosswires into the enter of a whirling propeller. "Fire!" He yelled, and his right index finger clamped the firing tripper in a firm grip. Stogsdill's vision was blurred by the crash of his guns, but an instant later he could see clearly, see the wispy tongues of flame that had begun to grow in the white froth of our wake. He pressed the button on his sound powered telephone and reported, "Splash, on Tojo." By now reports were coming in from damage control parties. Ensign Leo Fay of Boston, Mass., officer-in-charge of Repair One was seriously wounded but still directing his men in a compartment which had taken the full force of the bomb blast. Ammunition was on fire at both gun mounts and unwounded survivors were busy throwing these burning parcels of destruction over the side. Hoses were led out and jumpers rigged around broken sections of Firemains. Ensign R.R. Conley of Ochelata, Oklahoma led another Repair Party forward and took over from Ensign Fay who was suffering from multiple injuries and died the next day. Fires were brought quickly under control and it was determined that the ship had suffered no underwater damage. Wounded were being treated in the Officer's Wardroom Mess by Ltjg. O.C. Stegmaier, of Jefferson City, Missouri, where he had a miniature hospital with an improvised operating table and many other facilities for administering first aid. We breathed a little easier now. Darkness had settled down; only a sliver of moon hung in the sky, not enough light for concentrated attacks. Exactly six minutes had passed since we had fired the first shot. A supporting Destroyer closed us at the Skipper's request to send over medical assistance. Just when a new bogey appeared and we squared off our remaining guns to engage him should he close. The other destroyer opened fire, but the two ships were so close that our guns were masked and needed to hold fire until clear. A quick maneuver brought us around, but accurate shooting from the "tin can" commanded by Commander A.B. Coxe of Washington, D.C., drove this Nipper away. He was labeled snooper, one who had not joined the Kamikaze Corps. But this time the maneuver was too late. With a roar like the passing of a great wind the first plane came in on us. Machine gun bullets in hails, hammered him in mid-flight, but his aim had been true and he continued to hurdle on while parts of his place disintegrated and fell away before our eyes. His tail melted and drifted lazily down as he passed our stern. The pilot, already dead, could be seen slumped forward over the controls. "Heads up, bridge," was heard on one telephone circuit as a talker aft tried to warn us that this one had not been splashed. Then Frances O'Hara, Seaman second class, USNR, of Pekin, Illinois, bridge talker on the battle circuit, sounded off "HIT THE DECK--HIT THE DECK!" We had practiced this before, to throw ourselves out prone on the deck in an effort protect ourselves from flying splinters. It reminded us of tackling dummy drill in football season and in practice we had resented the bruises, the indignity of the whole procedure. Oh how glad we were that the Skipper had made us do it over and over again before, until each of us could melt instantly into the smallest allotted spot. The wreck of this plane might have missed us too, had it not been that his wingtip grazed our mast, taking off the port yardarm, and thus deflected, he spun around into the ship. The same wing nipped the Director, clipped off the bridge windshield and crashed against the face of a 5" gun mount. The remainder of the plane caromed against another gun mount, killing seven men and wounding many others. His bombs exploded between these mounts and flames shot high in the air. Shrapnel and jagged splinters rained about the decks and the floor boards heaved. Aside from the great rushing sound or "swoosh" of the plane passing overhead there was little noise. We climbed instantly to our feet and began to untangle the telephone cords and replace our helmets, all of us a little dazed from the concussion. The Skipper was already inspecting the bridge to see if any controls were knocked out. He spoke to Thomas MacNamara, Storekeeper first class, USN, of Boulder, Montana, another talker, "Tell damage control I want a report immediately!" His request was not needed. The well trained damage control parties directed by Lt. J. H. Howard, USNR, of New York, N.Y., were already probing into the flames and wreckage. What had become of the second plane in that smoke screen? If he were going to hit us we would have felt him by now. To a man, the thought hit us at the same time, and we peered out into the gloom for some sign of him. There astern was a little flicker of light, flames licking away at the remains of a crashed plane. Were those remnants of the one we had received aboard? Or could it be--? The command circuit carried the voice of Lt. Davis, "tell the Captain that Stogsdill splashed the second Tojo in local control." A sign of relief, Claude Stogsdill, Gunner's Mate first class, USN, of Dorchester, Mass., was Mount Captain of an after 5" mount. During the action of fire he stood with his head out the top of a small hatch, observing the effect of fire from his mount and issuing orders to his crew now and then as he received instructions from Lt. Davis in the Director. His job had been to train the crew to peak efficiency. Once the action was joined, his job was done, his men were on their own. Unless--- unless there was a target for him that Mr. Davis could not take under fire with the forward guns. "Commence firing!" Mr. Davis' command was echoed by the crash of our main battery, five inch anti- aircraft guns that hurled steely defiance at the enemy. Rapid fire now, and the throaty roar deepened like an express train entering a tunnel. Then silence. Far in the distance a glowing funeral pyre marked the grave of a Kamikaze. A little man from across the sea stood humbly before his God-Emperor. But the moment's silence was deceptive. More bogey reports were heard, and suddenly they were all around us. The Main battery opened up again and was quickly followed by our lighter weapons as the enemy pack closed in for a kill. Lookouts atop the pilot house were heard "starboard 2 up 3, starboard 9 up 5, port 6 up 3," singing out the position of enemy aircraft in their sectors, all low on the water and closing fast. The Skipper by now had given his waving signal speed and Marshall Williams, Radioman third class, USN-I, of Denver, Colorado, was telling the engineers to "pour on the coal." This they did, and the bow of DOUGLAS H. FOX lifted high and sent the spray flying. Once more Commander Coxe brought his ship alongside and his medical personnel jumped onto the deck of the DOUGLAS H. FOX. Reports were received on the bridge concerning the condition of our wounded; a few men were in serious condition and the Skipper asked for medical assistance from still another destroyer which was approaching the scene. He then decided to return to base and upon the arrival of a relief destroyer, we set course to a friendly harbor. Heroes? There were many, a roster of the ship's company would just about cover it. But still a better name for DOUGLAS H. FOX men, that fateful night, one that they understand better and are proud to wear---Good Destroyer Sailors? "Tin Can Men." YMC, Miles Lewis, 17 May, 1945. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- PERSONAL ACCOUNTS FROM THE KAMIKAZI ATTACK - MAY 17, 1945 Bruce, Got your letter this morning and enjoyed reading it. It's amazing what one starts to think about when trying to recapitulate what took place 50 plus years ago. As you know most of us aboard the Fox were rather young not having seen our 20th birthday as yet. All 300 plus of us were thrown together to attempt to do a job that had to be done, but very few knew how we were supposed to do it. When we saw the Destroyer in port on the 17th that had been on picket station 9 on the 16th with most of it's super structure missing, as well as hearing they had lost 150 men, it sent a chill down our spines. The main reason being, we knew who was going to go out on picket station 9 that night. The Zellers, our sister ship, was also going with us. Our skipper said he knew that 9 was the worst of the stations as it was directly between Okinawa and Japan, and that was where most of the kamikaze's would be operating at dusk. He also said he would see that we not only got out there, but he would be responsible for getting us back. He did that, but 11 did not come back alive. My battle station was gunner on a 20mm gun on the gun tub of stack two. When the kamikaze's started coming in, all hell broke loose and our five inch mounts, of which we had three twins, all of the quad 40's, the six twin 50's, and a passel of 20 mm. were sending out an awfully lot of lead and noise The feeling I had as all of this firing was taking place was that it felt about as effective as if someone with a saucer of green peas was tossing them out one at a time. Probably this feeling came from seeing how aggressive the Japanese planes were and how nothing seemed to stop them. Every so often you would see one splash, but they just kept coming. The safety valve on the boilers had been tied down, as I understand, and we were putting out smoke like mad. The Captain called the engineering officer and said cut off the smoke. The reply was, do you want speed, or do you want smoke. We continued with our smoke. By the time we were hit, we had lost all of our five inch guns. The one on the fantail had plane fuel all over it where a kamikaze had just missed us, spilling gas all over. A spark would have caused all sorts of problems and probably more lives, and so we could do very little in defending ourselves other than the smaller guns. Possibly leaving the smoke going could have been our downfall, but who is to know. The plane that got us with a 500 lb. bomb came in through the smoke, passing just over my head close enough so we could feel the heat from his engine. It clipped off part of the yardarm, knocking out mount number two as far as firepower was concerned and demolishing mount number one. It was scary and something one never forgets. We were supposed to be repaired in the Philippines, but they had no room for us. Plan number two was to repair the ship in the Hawaiian Islands, but still no room. From there we were sent to the Bethlehem naval yard in San Francisco and they did accept us. This was great for me as Modesto, CA was my home. Our journey from the grave yard back to S. F. was quite a story in itself. We hit a storm that would make people on a good sound Destroyer nervous, but where we had 4 x 4's shoring up our bow, it was a bit spooky. I had the opportunity to be at the helm from time to time, and when we were taking 45 degree rolls, I'm sure my hair was standing on end. From my understanding, after the Fox was repaired word was that we were to head back out to the Pacific to help in the battle. Most of us were dreading it. In fact it took a couple of years before I felt at ease when a plane would pass overhead. About that time the bombs were dropped on Japan and the war came to an end. I spent V J day in Modesto. When we did report back to the ship the orders were we were to head for New York for Veterans day. That was mighty good news. Anyway Bruce, I'm sorry to have rambled, but hopefully it will give you some of the feelings and observations I had then. I hope it doesn't sound too melodramatic, but with age one tends to tell things differently. Regardless of what anyone says, war is scary. Ted Sypolt, Plank Owner, in a letter to Bruce Hanson, who's father was on Fox. CLYDE WELSH, S1c, to HENRY SEEGERS, GM3c, on JANUARY 21, 2001. Both are Plank Owners. Hank, The battle I was talking about, was the first one about a week before we got hit, and we got credit for just one of the seven that was splashed. The other skipper took credit for six, and that was what I was asking about. How many did we really get? If you remember it rained all the next week. As for the trainers station; the fuse setter had his face pushed into the glass and was taken to the wardroom, and the sight setter was killed. They had to take a part of the plane off him to get him out. He was the mailman we picked up in Pearl and Bornemann replaced. Also I understood that the trainer wasn't spotted for some time before they got him down and into sick bay. He made it. I saw him in New York around Navy Day with his folks. I don't know who you threw over board. It may have just been - pilot parts. We didn't need them any way.. Oh, that book I was telling you about. The Fox is in there, but just a paragraph. The guy that wrote it didn't have any of the crews input to add, and he gave us credit for seven planes. But the rest of the book is great stuff and has stories about some of the ships that were hit. The ship that was with us the first time we were out, got hit in the anchor with a five inch. The USS Zellars DD777, my other can, and the Aaron Ward, the ship that didn't have any thing left between the bridge and Mt.3, that was anchored close to us before we got hit, were in the book. All 122 Destroyers that were hit are in the book. Did you know that the number of Tin Can sailors that were wounded or killed (over half were killed) in just 90 days, totaled 9760. That's 13 % of the total casualties experienced by the Navy in the war. Of the 122 hit, 47 were ether sunk, scuttled or scrapped. This has me upset. I didn't know that and I doubt that many do. The Japs have a shrine honoring their Kamikaze's. We didn't even get a "thank you", or "kiss my ass", for that battle. No group of any U.S. Force lost anywhere near 20% of the crews as the Destroyers on the picket stations did, nor has much been said about the 122 ships (82% of the 148 Destroyers on station), that were hit. Didn't mean to go on so long Get me squared away with that first fight, ok. P.S. How about sending this out. Maybe we can get some talk going between the Plank Owners, so the kids can get to know how it was. To one good Tin Can sailor from another. Clyde Welsh, S1c Note: The book which Clyde referred to is probably "The Two Ocean War" by Samuel Eliot Morrison (1963), who as the official historian for the Navy wrote a fifteen volume history from which this book was condensed. The following paragraphs are copied from page 556. "Although your historian himself has been under kamikaze attack, and witnessed the hideous forms of death and torture inflicted by that weapon, words fail to do justice to the sailors who met it so courageously. Men on radar picket station, to survive, not only had to strike own the flaming terror of the Kamikazes roaring out of the blue like thunderbolts of Zeus: they were under constant strain and intense discomfort. In order to supply high steam pressure to build full speed rapidly in a destroyer, its superheaters, built only for intermittent use, had to be lighted for three and four days running. For days and even nights on end, the crew had to stand general quarters while the ship was kept "buttoned up". Men had to keep in readiness for the instant reaction and split- second timing necessary to riddle a plane bent on sacrificial death. Sleep became the rarest commodity and choicest luxury, like water to a shipwrecked mariner." "The capture of Okinawa cost the United States Navy 34 naval vessels and craft sunk, 368 damaged, over 4900 sailors killed or missing in action, and over 4800 wounded. Tenth Army lost 7613 killed or missing in action and 31,800 wounded. Sobering as it is to record such losses, the sacrifice of these men is brightened by our knowledge that the capture of Okinawa helped to bring Japanese leaders to face the inevitable surrender. " Conversations at the 2002 Reunion with Mel Saucier, Lloyd Garrett, Plank Owners, etal "We were sailing without air cover, when we saw about 11 Kamikaze's coming. Every time you look up, here's one here, and here's one here, and here's one here. I don't know how many of 'em we shot down, but the plane that hit the yard arm, we already had the tail blowed off of it. It hit the yardarm, spun around and nailed the gun mount, just peeled it like an orange. I think it killed all seven men in there. There were three more killed in the powder room. We were dead in the water, just sittin there for a while, but we didn't come under attack." Mel Saucier, S2 "The morning after we were hit, we went up to the gun mount that was demolished, and these guys looked like that hash, which is what we had for breakfast that morning. You could see so many guys with their trays scraping that hash over the side. They just couldn't eat it. I was by stack number two, on the 20 mm, and in fact, when it came in, it hit the yard arm, which wasn't too much higher than my head, so I could feel the heat of the engines as they went over. Lloyd Garrett, S2c(TM ) "I was on the bridge manning a twin 40mm director when I spotted a bogie coming down in our smoke stack, just missing the radar antenna and then crashing, and blowing up #2 gun mount. We lost all our power; we were dead in the water. That's what I remember vividly. I lost many good friends that were manning the gun mount". Pete Del Puppa, S1c(FC), September, 2000. "I had a great time at the San Diego reunion (2000) and hope to be at the next one. I was in the Forward Fire Room during general quarters and for regular duty until October 1945. Thereafter was in the Engine room and the Oil and Water King. Norm Handley, S2c. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- S2c Dave Turvey's Recollections From May 17, 1945 My name is Don Morrison and I'm a Viet Nam era Navy veteran. My uncle David O. Turvey was one of those seriously wounded on the Fox that day. He never did talk too much about it, but just before he died of cancer in 1993, he related to me some of what happened. He recalled someone picking him up and saying "this one's dead too" and he managed to groan and somehow convey that he was still alive so he didn't go over the side. He spent two years at Oak Knoll Naval Hospital before being sent home. Funny part is, when I was injured in Viet Nam and sent to Oak Knoll for treatment, Uncle Dave came to visit and discovered that I was in the same ward he was in in 1945, Ward 45-A. He was a good man and worked at Mare Island Naval Shipyard for several years as security before retiring. I still miss him. Don Morrison, July 3, 2006. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Recollections of Eddie Elliot, Baker 3rd, 1944- 1946 Yes, I am a plank-owner. The first thing I remember about the Fox was joining the first crew in Seattle. I was a Cook (striker). And my first job was baking about 24 turkeys for our Thanksgiving dinner. Luckily a corpsman came by about 5:30 a.m. with "Pink-ladies" to make the job more enjoyable. After shakedown we left San Diego for Pearl Harbor. It was somewhat frightening at my age 18, seeing the Carrier Franklin coming in, in bad shape, knowing that your heading in the direction she was coming from. We left Pearl in the morning with sealed orders. Sometime later the Captain let us know we were headed for Okinawa. We escorted an old Battleship, I believe it was the Mississippi. We had sonar contact and dropped depth charges, and fired our "Y guns. My GQ station was a projectile handler in the aft Twin 5". When we arrived in Okinawa, we tied up alongside the USS Arron Ward, which had also been hit. Needless to say right in the area of my GQ station. Before our picket duty we joined in bombarding the island with our 5 " guns while the Battlewagons did 16" over our heads. During a daylight operation we brought down a Kamikaze and brought him on board. On his person he had a letter from his girlfriend which was read to the crew, telling him how proud she was of him for joining the Kamikaze group. I don't remember if he was still alive or dead, but he was gone. On the night we were hit, its amazing how quick you grow up. Below deck in the squirrel cage the 5"projectile which weighs about 50 pounds felt like 5 pounds to the keep the guys above busy. Luckily it paid off. We caught one trying to sneak up in our smoke. After the attack we went topside to clear the 5" brass. We sure had a pile. Then learned of the buddies we lost. We also lost our Baker, a hell of a way for me to become Baker 3rd class. It's easy to see why only the young go to war. The older and more life experienced, would or should try to find a better way. The next morning the sight was horrible. We tried to clean up the disaster. I still have a part of the aluminum skin and fiber material from the Jap plane, and shrapnel which looked like a Ford transmission gear broken into pieces. I know this because after leaving the service, I spent the next 40 years doing tune-up and electrical work on Fords. Eddie (& Dee) Elliot, December 7, 2006 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- V USS Douglas H. Fox DD 779 NOTICE: Re: 17 May, 1945 The attached story "Destroyer Action" is being sent to you and may be read by your immediate family and girl friend. YOU ARE CAUTIONED, HOWEVER, THAT THIS IS NOT A RELEASE FOR PRESS OR RADIO PUBLICATION?.. If you are approached by the press or radio concerning publication of this story, or any part of it, inform them that they must get permission from the local U.S. Navy Public Relations Officer to release the story, and that in any event, the name DOUGLAS H. FOX MUST NOT be mentioned. "A Pacific Fleet Destroyer" should be substituted for the name DOUGLAS H. FOX. R.M. PITTS Commander, U.S. Navy U.S.S. DOUGLAS H. FOX (DD-779) C/o Fleet Post Office San Francisco, California DD779/A12 DESTROYER ACTION As told by Miles E. Lewis, Chief Yeoman, USNR San Francisco, California "Man for man and gun for gun, the fightingest ship of the Navy." That is what seagoing men think of U.S. Destroyers, the indomitable "tin cans." And one evening off Okinawa Gunto, a former Japanese island, U.S.S. DOUGLAS H. FOX added another page to the glowing chapters of destroyer history. Commanded by Commander Ray M. Pitts, USN, of 333 N. Croft, Hollywood, Calif., she met and defeated an attack by a group of Japanese suicide planes intent on her destruction. In this type of action only one can survive, and once more a gallant destroyer steamed away from the field victorious. All hands will long remember that eventful evening on 17 May 1945. A beautiful orange sun faded beneath the horizon, the warmth of late spring was gone and men on station topside could be seen pulling on their heavy weather jackets to guard against a cool night breeze. The day before had been spent in renewing our supply of ammunition, depleted in a previous action, and only this morning we had put to sea in search of the enemy. In less than twelve hours after weighing anchor, we met him and took his measure. We were looking for trouble of any kind, but expect more opposition from the "Divine Wind", or "Kamikazes," as the Japanese have named their Special Attack Corps of suicide planes. Kamikaze pilots are dedicated to self-destruction; they attend their own funerals before taking off on a one-way trip and believe that they attain Godhood by destroying the Emperors enemies at the cost of their own lives. When a target is sighted they dive their planes into it without hesitation, making no attempt to evade or escape. While our swift Marine Corps Fighters hummed overhead, we felt that our sails were properly reefed to Mr. Tojo's deadly breeze, but with the approach of evening twilight we knew that the day-flying Corsairs must soon return to their island base and we would face the night without their comforting shadows. "Sound General quarters!" The harsh voice of the public address system echoed throughout the ship. Up the ladders from below decks, scrambled the men off watch who had been resting as best they could for the inevitable evening alert. Swiftly they swung out their guns and pulled their battle helmets down over their foreheads. Telephone circuits crackled and became alive with preliminary reports, "Main Battery manned and ready!" "Machine Gun battery manned and ready!" Quietly and with the quick, sure motions that bespeaks careful training, the crew of the DOUGLAS H. FOX prepared for battle. My station was on the bridge alongside the Skipper as his talker on the Captain's Command Circuit. It was my duty to receive the reports from the many groups of the battle organizations through the ship. When they were all ready, to notify the Skipper. This was done in a matter of seconds and he acknowledged my signal, made by forming "O" with thumb and forefinger, with a quick nod. On our bridge we use many hand signals in place of spoken words which are usually drowned out by the roar of gunfire, when action is joined. To call for maximum speed the Skipper would wave one hand in a rapid circular motion over his head, the signal used by aircraft pilots to turn on engines. A distinctive motion of his right arm indicated that he wanted the rudder put hard over in that direction. In anticipation of action, we now reviewed these signals so that our maneuverability could be used to best advantage. The Skipper had in mind making the suicide planes miss the ship in one way or another, just so long as they missed, like the old Galloping Ghost using his famous swivel hips on the gridiron, leaving tacklers strewn in his path. He felt that it should take the best tackler on the Nipponese teams to haul down a scampering FOX. Soon the voice of Lt. Comdr. C. H. Carlos, USN, of Cambridge, Massachusetts, came over the Captain's Telephone, from his station below in Combat Information Center, "There is a bogey (Jap plane) seventy miles west of us." Something told us that we had felt the first light gust of the Divine Wind, In a few minutes Mr. Carlos spoke again. "Combat air patrol is returning to base." Dusk was settling fast and our sky-raiding Marines were being called in. The Captain cleared all telephone circuits with a lifted hand and his talker stood ready to relay a message. "All Stations topside," he said, "if you will look on our starboard beam you can see our Combat Air Patrol. They are on their way home. We are on our own from now on. Heads UP!" Nothing more was needed to bring our crew to peak alertness. The crew, made up of healthy American boys from most of the 48 states, was a good one. Since putting DOUGLAS H. FOX in commission, six months before, the time had been spent in training, shakedown, more training and recently a little action. In general, it had been tiresome and boring, but now we knew the test would come shortly. Much, very much, is expected of a "tin can" sailor. An electric tension spread through the men at their stations. Lookouts were straining their eyes towards the darkening horizon. Gun crews repeatedly inspected their weapons and the ammunition in its ready stowage. The Skipper sat hunched in a seat on the open bridge while our Communications Officer, Ltjg N. H. Witschen, USNR, of Jacksonville, Florida conned the ship. We were ready. A supporting destroyer reported an enemy plane to the west, low on the water. The Divine Wind! Above the pilot house our gun director whined as it trained out to pick up our first target. It seems to those on the bridge that a train is passing overhead when Lieut. J. H. DAVIS, USN, of Kansas City, Missouri, starts driving his director around like a whirling dervish. The huge box-like gun director which carries several men to work its delicate precision instruments, turned its face to the west, came to an abrupt stop, backed up slightly, then settled down to a steady turn, following with its powerful eyes the tiny black speck far out on the horizon. Gun barrels rose and fell as they followed the slow, even motion of the ship, their muzzles like puppies sniffing at a rathole. The Skipper stood silently peering over the starboard bridge wing; he need give no orders, long weeks of training has relegated the authority to join in action to his gunnery officer, and he knew Mr. Davis would start shooting at the proper time. All this takes minutes to tell, but it happened in seconds. Impatiently the Skipper was first on one side of the bridge and then the other. At each new report he would jump to that wing for a look, then signal to Fred Adamak, Coxswain, USNR, of Milwaukee, Wisconsin, at the wheel to turn the ship and engage the most dangerous enemy. Our maneuvers were sharp and fast. Before one turn was completed we were heeling over to start in the opposite direction. Ensign Wallace Follette of Forest Grove, Oregon and his lookouts atop the pilot house were riding their stations like bronco-busters in a rodeo. At one time during the action J. C. Crowe, Yeoman third class, of Catron, Missouri, was seen climbing back up the side of the pilot house like a human fly. He had been catapulted to the deck below by a violent maneuver. Every gun on the ship joined the action and a sheet of flame signaled the end of another Kamikaze. A third dipped his nose into a shallow dive, aimed at our starboard beam. Ellis Parkins, Chief Gunner's mate, USN, of San Antonio, Texas said to Daniel McDevitt, Chief Torpedoman's Mate, of Philadelphia, Penn., "Its him or us!" It was him! Their light machine guns riveted the mark of death across the motor of the onrushing plane. With a tremendous explosion, Mr. Tojo hit the water just 50 yards short of the ship and showered debris all over the gunners who had shot him down. The smoke from our guns lay astern like a shroud across the water. Also our stacks were belching black smoke occasionally as the engineers swung their throttles wide for more speed. Attempting to evade the deadly blast of our guns, the enemy planes dived into the top of our smoke pall and began a semi-obscured run from astern. But they could not avoid the electronic eyes of our radar and we knew exactly where they were and what they were doing. The Skipper passed word below to "knock off the smoke," hoping to bring our pursuers again into full view. From Lt. J.C. Jones of Hattiesburg, Miss., the Engineering officer, came the quick query, "Do you want smoke or speed?" The Skipper grinned, for he knew we needed speed too, and answered, "No smoke," then signaled the rudder hard over in a confusing turn for the half blind Japs astern. They should pop out of the haze and find themselves facing the entire broadside of our anti-aircraft battery. He peered into the smoke cloud astern, there two Nippers out there, both closing. One burst into view and he shouted orders, turning his mount to meet the headlong rush of a Kamikaze. Too close! The machines gun battery would have to take that one; where was the other? "Train left," he called to his trainer, Jesse York, Seaman first class, USNR, of Markham, Texas. "Number two ought to be dead astern!" One quick glance at the blazing red emblems on the Jap wing was all Frank Coultas, Seaman first class, USNR, of Portland, Oregon, pointer, needed. He heard "ready" reports from the Gun Captains behind him; a slight pressure on the handwheels brought his crosswires into the enter of a whirling propeller. "Fire!" He yelled, and his right index finger clamped the firing tripper in a firm grip. Stogsdill's vision was blurred by the crash of his guns, but an instant later he could see clearly, see the wispy tongues of flame that had begun to grow in the white froth of our wake. He pressed the button on his sound powered telephone and reported, "Splash, on Tojo." By now reports were coming in from damage control parties. Ensign Leo Fay of Boston, Mass., officer-in-charge of Repair One was seriously wounded but still directing his men in a compartment which had taken the full force of the bomb blast. Ammunition was on fire at both gun mounts and unwounded survivors were busy throwing these burning parcels of destruction over the side. Hoses were led out and jumpers rigged around broken sections of Firemains. Ensign R.R. Conley of Ochelata, Oklahoma led another Repair Party forward and took over from Ensign Fay who was suffering from multiple injuries and died the next day. Fires were brought quickly under control and it was determined that the ship had suffered no underwater damage. Wounded were being treated in the Officer's Wardroom Mess by Ltjg. O.C. Stegmaier, of Jefferson City, Missouri, where he had a miniature hospital with an improvised operating table and many other facilities for administering first aid. We breathed a little easier now. Darkness had settled down; only a sliver of moon hung in the sky, not enough light for concentrated attacks. Exactly six minutes had passed since we had fired the first shot. A supporting Destroyer closed us at the Skipper's request to send over medical assistance. Just when a new bogey appeared and we squared off our remaining guns to engage him should he close. The other destroyer opened fire, but the two ships were so close that our guns were masked and needed to hold fire until clear. A quick maneuver brought us around, but accurate shooting from the "tin can" commanded by Commander A.B. Coxe of Washington, D.C., drove this Nipper away. He was labeled snooper, one who had not joined the Kamikaze Corps. But this time the maneuver was too late. With a roar like the passing of a great wind the first plane came in on us. Machine gun bullets in hails, hammered him in mid-flight, but his aim had been true and he continued to hurdle on while parts of his place disintegrated and fell away before our eyes. His tail melted and drifted lazily down as he passed our stern. The pilot, already dead, could be seen slumped forward over the controls. "Heads up, bridge," was heard on one telephone circuit as a talker aft tried to warn us that this one had not been splashed. Then Frances O'Hara, Seaman second class, USNR, of Pekin, Illinois, bridge talker on the battle circuit, sounded off "HIT THE DECK--HIT THE DECK!" We had practiced this before, to throw ourselves out prone on the deck in an effort protect ourselves from flying splinters. It reminded us of tackling dummy drill in football season and in practice we had resented the bruises, the indignity of the whole procedure. Oh how glad we were that the Skipper had made us do it over and over again before, until each of us could melt instantly into the smallest allotted spot. The wreck of this plane might have missed us too, had it not been that his wingtip grazed our mast, taking off the port yardarm, and thus deflected, he spun around into the ship. The same wing nipped the Director, clipped off the bridge windshield and crashed against the face of a 5" gun mount. The remainder of the plane caromed against another gun mount, killing seven men and wounding many others. His bombs exploded between these mounts and flames shot high in the air. Shrapnel and jagged splinters rained about the decks and the floor boards heaved. Aside from the great rushing sound or "swoosh" of the plane passing overhead there was little noise. We climbed instantly to our feet and began to untangle the telephone cords and replace our helmets, all of us a little dazed from the concussion. The Skipper was already inspecting the bridge to see if any controls were knocked out. He spoke to Thomas MacNamara, Storekeeper first class, USN, of Boulder, Montana, another talker, "Tell damage control I want a report immediately!" His request was not needed. The well trained damage control parties directed by Lt. J. H. Howard, USNR, of New York, N.Y., were already probing into the flames and wreckage. What had become of the second plane in that smoke screen? If he were going to hit us we would have felt him by now. To a man, the thought hit us at the same time, and we peered out into the gloom for some sign of him. There astern was a little flicker of light, flames licking away at the remains of a crashed plane. Were those remnants of the one we had received aboard? Or could it be--? The command circuit carried the voice of Lt. Davis, "tell the Captain that Stogsdill splashed the second Tojo in local control." A sign of relief, Claude Stogsdill, Gunner's Mate first class, USN, of Dorchester, Mass., was Mount Captain of an after 5" mount. During the action of fire he stood with his head out the top of a small hatch, observing the effect of fire from his mount and issuing orders to his crew now and then as he received instructions from Lt. Davis in the Director. His job had been to train the crew to peak efficiency. Once the action was joined, his job was done, his men were on their own. Unless--- unless there was a target for him that Mr. Davis could not take under fire with the forward guns. "Commence firing!" Mr. Davis' command was echoed by the crash of our main battery, five inch anti- aircraft guns that hurled steely defiance at the enemy. Rapid fire now, and the throaty roar deepened like an express train entering a tunnel. Then silence. Far in the distance a glowing funeral pyre marked the grave of a Kamikaze. A little man from across the sea stood humbly before his God-Emperor. But the moment's silence was deceptive. More bogey reports were heard, and suddenly they were all around us. The Main battery opened up again and was quickly followed by our lighter weapons as the enemy pack closed in for a kill. Lookouts atop the pilot house were heard "starboard 2 up 3, starboard 9 up 5, port 6 up 3," singing out the position of enemy aircraft in their sectors, all low on the water and closing fast. The Skipper by now had given his waving signal speed and Marshall Williams, Radioman third class, USN-I, of Denver, Colorado, was telling the engineers to "pour on the coal." This they did, and the bow of DOUGLAS H. FOX lifted high and sent the spray flying. Once more Commander Coxe brought his ship alongside and his medical personnel jumped onto the deck of the DOUGLAS H. FOX. Reports were received on the bridge concerning the condition of our wounded; a few men were in serious condition and the Skipper asked for medical assistance from still another destroyer which was approaching the scene. He then decided to return to base and upon the arrival of a relief destroyer, we set course to a friendly harbor. Heroes? There were many, a roster of the ship's company would just about cover it. But still a better name for DOUGLAS H. FOX men, that fateful night, one that they understand better and are proud to wear---Good Destroyer Sailors? "Tin Can Men." YMC, Miles Lewis, 17 May, 1945. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- PERSONAL ACCOUNTS FROM THE KAMIKAZI ATTACK - MAY 17, 1945 Bruce, Got your letter this morning and enjoyed reading it. It's amazing what one starts to think about when trying to recapitulate what took place 50 plus years ago. As you know most of us aboard the Fox were rather young not having seen our 20th birthday as yet. All 300 plus of us were thrown together to attempt to do a job that had to be done, but very few knew how we were supposed to do it. When we saw the Destroyer in port on the 17th that had been on picket station 9 on the 16th with most of it's super structure missing, as well as hearing they had lost 150 men, it sent a chill down our spines. The main reason being, we knew who was going to go out on picket station 9 that night. The Zellers, our sister ship, was also going with us. Our skipper said he knew that 9 was the worst of the stations as it was directly between Okinawa and Japan, and that was where most of the kamikaze's would be operating at dusk. He also said he would see that we not only got out there, but he would be responsible for getting us back. He did that, but 11 did not come back alive. My battle station was gunner on a 20mm gun on the gun tub of stack two. When the kamikaze's started coming in, all hell broke loose and our five inch mounts, of which we had three twins, all of the quad 40's, the six twin 50's, and a passel of 20 mm. were sending out an awfully lot of lead and noise The feeling I had as all of this firing was taking place was that it felt about as effective as if someone with a saucer of green peas was tossing them out one at a time. Probably this feeling came from seeing how aggressive the Japanese planes were and how nothing seemed to stop them. Every so often you would see one splash, but they just kept coming. The safety valve on the boilers had been tied down, as I understand, and we were putting out smoke like mad. The Captain called the engineering officer and said cut off the smoke. The reply was, do you want speed, or do you want smoke. We continued with our smoke. By the time we were hit, we had lost all of our five inch guns. The one on the fantail had plane fuel all over it where a kamikaze had just missed us, spilling gas all over. A spark would have caused all sorts of problems and probably more lives, and so we could do very little in defending ourselves other than the smaller guns. Possibly leaving the smoke going could have been our downfall, but who is to know. The plane that got us with a 500 lb. bomb came in through the smoke, passing just over my head close enough so we could feel the heat from his engine. It clipped off part of the yardarm, knocking out mount number two as far as firepower was concerned and demolishing mount number one. It was scary and something one never forgets. We were supposed to be repaired in the Philippines, but they had no room for us. Plan number two was to repair the ship in the Hawaiian Islands, but still no room. From there we were sent to the Bethlehem naval yard in San Francisco and they did accept us. This was great for me as Modesto, CA was my home. Our journey from the grave yard back to S. F. was quite a story in itself. We hit a storm that would make people on a good sound Destroyer nervous, but where we had 4 x 4's shoring up our bow, it was a bit spooky. I had the opportunity to be at the helm from time to time, and when we were taking 45 degree rolls, I'm sure my hair was standing on end. From my understanding, after the Fox was repaired word was that we were to head back out to the Pacific to help in the battle. Most of us were dreading it. In fact it took a couple of years before I felt at ease when a plane would pass overhead. About that time the bombs were dropped on Japan and the war came to an end. I spent V J day in Modesto. When we did report back to the ship the orders were we were to head for New York for Veterans day. That was mighty good news. Anyway Bruce, I'm sorry to have rambled, but hopefully it will give you some of the feelings and observations I had then. I hope it doesn't sound too melodramatic, but with age one tends to tell things differently. Regardless of what anyone says, war is scary. Ted Sypolt, Plank Owner, in a letter to Bruce Hanson, who's father was on Fox. CLYDE WELSH, S1c, to HENRY SEEGERS, GM3c, on JANUARY 21, 2001. Both are Plank Owners. Hank, The battle I was talking about, was the first one about a week before we got hit, and we got credit for just one of the seven that was splashed. The other skipper took credit for six, and that was what I was asking about. How many did we really get? If you remember it rained all the next week. As for the trainers station; the fuse setter had his face pushed into the glass and was taken to the wardroom, and the sight setter was killed. They had to take a part of the plane off him to get him out. He was the mailman we picked up in Pearl and Bornemann replaced. Also I understood that the trainer wasn't spotted for some time before they got him down and into sick bay. He made it. I saw him in New York around Navy Day with his folks. I don't know who you threw over board. It may have just been - pilot parts. We didn't need them any way.. Oh, that book I was telling you about. The Fox is in there, but just a paragraph. The guy that wrote it didn't have any of the crews input to add, and he gave us credit for seven planes. But the rest of the book is great stuff and has stories about some of the ships that were hit. The ship that was with us the first time we were out, got hit in the anchor with a five inch. The USS Zellars DD777, my other can, and the Aaron Ward, the ship that didn't have any thing left between the bridge and Mt.3, that was anchored close to us before we got hit, were in the book. All 122 Destroyers that were hit are in the book. Did you know that the number of Tin Can sailors that were wounded or killed (over half were killed) in just 90 days, totaled 9760. That's 13 % of the total casualties experienced by the Navy in the war. Of the 122 hit, 47 were ether sunk, scuttled or scrapped. This has me upset. I didn't know that and I doubt that many do. The Japs have a shrine honoring their Kamikaze's. We didn't even get a "thank you", or "kiss my ass", for that battle. No group of any U.S. Force lost anywhere near 20% of the crews as the Destroyers on the picket stations did, nor has much been said about the 122 ships (82% of the 148 Destroyers on station), that were hit. Didn't mean to go on so long Get me squared away with that first fight, ok. P.S. How about sending this out. Maybe we can get some talk going between the Plank Owners, so the kids can get to know how it was. To one good Tin Can sailor from another. Clyde Welsh, S1c Note: The book which Clyde referred to is probably "The Two Ocean War" by Samuel Eliot Morrison (1963), who as the official historian for the Navy wrote a fifteen volume history from which this book was condensed. The following paragraphs are copied from page 556. "Although your historian himself has been under kamikaze attack, and witnessed the hideous forms of death and torture inflicted by that weapon, words fail to do justice to the sailors who met it so courageously. Men on radar picket station, to survive, not only had to strike own the flaming terror of the Kamikazes roaring out of the blue like thunderbolts of Zeus: they were under constant strain and intense discomfort. In order to supply high steam pressure to build full speed rapidly in a destroyer, its superheaters, built only for intermittent use, had to be lighted for three and four days running. For days and even nights on end, the crew had to stand general quarters while the ship was kept "buttoned up". Men had to keep in readiness for the instant reaction and split- second timing necessary to riddle a plane bent on sacrificial death. Sleep became the rarest commodity and choicest luxury, like water to a shipwrecked mariner." "The capture of Okinawa cost the United States Navy 34 naval vessels and craft sunk, 368 damaged, over 4900 sailors killed or missing in action, and over 4800 wounded. Tenth Army lost 7613 killed or missing in action and 31,800 wounded. Sobering as it is to record such losses, the sacrifice of these men is brightened by our knowledge that the capture of Okinawa helped to bring Japanese leaders to face the inevitable surrender. " Conversations at the 2002 Reunion with Mel Saucier, Lloyd Garrett, Plank Owners, etal "We were sailing without air cover, when we saw about 11 Kamikaze's coming. Every time you look up, here's one here, and here's one here, and here's one here. I don't know how many of 'em we shot down, but the plane that hit the yard arm, we already had the tail blowed off of it. It hit the yardarm, spun around and nailed the gun mount, just peeled it like an orange. I think it killed all seven men in there. There were three more killed in the powder room. We were dead in the water, just sittin there for a while, but we didn't come under attack." Mel Saucier, S2 "The morning after we were hit, we went up to the gun mount that was demolished, and these guys looked like that hash, which is what we had for breakfast that morning. You could see so many guys with their trays scraping that hash over the side. They just couldn't eat it. I was by stack number two, on the 20 mm, and in fact, when it came in, it hit the yard arm, which wasn't too much higher than my head, so I could feel the heat of the engines as they went over. Lloyd Garrett, S2c(TM ) "I was on the bridge manning a twin 40mm director when I spotted a bogie coming down in our smoke stack, just missing the radar antenna and then crashing, and blowing up #2 gun mount. We lost all our power; we were dead in the water. That's what I remember vividly. I lost many good friends that were manning the gun mount". Pete Del Puppa, S1c(FC), September, 2000. "I had a great time at the San Diego reunion (2000) and hope to be at the next one. I was in the Forward Fire Room during general quarters and for regular duty until October 1945. Thereafter was in the Engine room and the Oil and Water King. Norm Handley, S2c. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- S2c Dave Turvey's Recollections From May 17, 1945 My name is Don Morrison and I'm a Viet Nam era Navy veteran. My uncle David O. Turvey was one of those seriously wounded on the Fox that day. He never did talk too much about it, but just before he died of cancer in 1993, he related to me some of what happened. He recalled someone picking him up and saying "this one's dead too" and he managed to groan and somehow convey that he was still alive so he didn't go over the side. He spent two years at Oak Knoll Naval Hospital before being sent home. Funny part is, when I was injured in Viet Nam and sent to Oak Knoll for treatment, Uncle Dave came to visit and discovered that I was in the same ward he was in in 1945, Ward 45-A. He was a good man and worked at Mare Island Naval Shipyard for several years as security before retiring. I still miss him. Don Morrison, July 3, 2006. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Recollections of Eddie Elliot, Baker 3rd, 1944- 1946 Yes, I am a plank-owner. The first thing I remember about the Fox was joining the first crew in Seattle. I was a Cook (striker). And my first job was baking about 24 turkeys for our Thanksgiving dinner. Luckily a corpsman came by about 5:30 a.m. with "Pink-ladies" to make the job more enjoyable. After shakedown we left San Diego for Pearl Harbor. It was somewhat frightening at my age 18, seeing the Carrier Franklin coming in, in bad shape, knowing that your heading in the direction she was coming from. We left Pearl in the morning with sealed orders. Sometime later the Captain let us know we were headed for Okinawa. We escorted an old Battleship, I believe it was the Mississippi. We had sonar contact and dropped depth charges, and fired our "Y guns. My GQ station was a projectile handler in the aft Twin 5". When we arrived in Okinawa, we tied up alongside the USS Arron Ward, which had also been hit. Needless to say right in the area of my GQ station. Before our picket duty we joined in bombarding the island with our 5 " guns while the Battlewagons did 16" over our heads. During a daylight operation we brought down a Kamikaze and brought him on board. On his person he had a letter from his girlfriend which was read to the crew, telling him how proud she was of him for joining the Kamikaze group. I don't remember if he was still alive or dead, but he was gone. On the night we were hit, its amazing how quick you grow up. Below deck in the squirrel cage the 5"projectile which weighs about 50 pounds felt like 5 pounds to the keep the guys above busy. Luckily it paid off. We caught one trying to sneak up in our smoke. After the attack we went topside to clear the 5" brass. We sure had a pile. Then learned of the buddies we lost. We also lost our Baker, a hell of a way for me to become Baker 3rd class. It's easy to see why only the young go to war. The older and more life experienced, would or should try to find a better way. The next morning the sight was horrible. We tried to clean up the disaster. I still have a part of the aluminum skin and fiber material from the Jap plane, and shrapnel which looked like a Ford transmission gear broken into pieces. I know this because after leaving the service, I spent the next 40 years doing tune-up and electrical work on Fords. Eddie (& Dee) Elliot, December 7, 2006 -------------------------------------------------------------------------
Criteria The Navy Good Conduct Medal (NGCM) is a decoration presented by the United States Navy to recognize members who have completed three years of honorable service. Medals awarded before January 1, 1996 r... The Navy Good Conduct Medal (NGCM) is a decoration presented by the United States Navy to recognize members who have completed three years of honorable service. Medals awarded before January 1, 1996 required four years of service. MoreHide
Criteria The Sea Service Deployment Ribbon is awarded to members of the Navy and Marine Corps assigned to U.S. homeported (including Hawaii and Alaska) ships, deploying units, or Fleet Marine Force commands, f... The Sea Service Deployment Ribbon is awarded to members of the Navy and Marine Corps assigned to U.S. homeported (including Hawaii and Alaska) ships, deploying units, or Fleet Marine Force commands, for 12 months accumulated sea duty, or for duty with the Fleet Marine Force that includes at least one deployment of 90 consecutive days. MoreHide
Description
Exercise Steel Pike was the the largest peacetime amphibious landing exercise in history, conducted by the U.S. Navy and taking place on the coast of Spain in October/November 1964.
Memories Upon exiting the Straits of Gibralter, Nov 1966, We recieved orders to take on board a film crew andUpon exiting the Straits of Gibralter, Nov 1966, We recieved orders to take on board a film crew and proceed to the Normandy coast to participate in operation "Steel Pike', a reinactment of the "D-Day" landings. The film crew, that we had taken on board, shot scenes for the movie "The Longest Day". ... More
Criteria The Navy Expeditionary Medal is awarded to Navy personnel who have landed on foreign territory and engaged in operations against armed opposition or who have operated under circumstances deemed to mer... The Navy Expeditionary Medal is awarded to Navy personnel who have landed on foreign territory and engaged in operations against armed opposition or who have operated under circumstances deemed to merit special recognition and for which no campaign medal has been awarded. MoreHide
Criteria The National Defense Service Medal is awarded for honorable active service as a member of the Armed Forces during the Korean War, Vietnam War, the war against Iraq in the Persian Gulf, and for service... The National Defense Service Medal is awarded for honorable active service as a member of the Armed Forces during the Korean War, Vietnam War, the war against Iraq in the Persian Gulf, and for service during the current War on Terrorism. In addition, all members of the National Guard and Reserve who were part of the Selected Reserve in good standing between August 2, 1990, to November 30, 1995, are eligible for the National Defense Service Medal. In the case of Navy personnel, Midshipment attending the Naval Academy during the qualifying periods are eligible for this award, and Naval Reserve Officer Training Corps (NROTC) Midshipmen ae only eligible if they participated in a summer cruise that was in an area which qualified for a campaign medal. MoreHide
Criteria The Armed Forces Expeditionary Medal is awarded to members of the Armed Forces who, after July 1, 1958, participate in specified United States operations or those in direct support of the United Natio... The Armed Forces Expeditionary Medal is awarded to members of the Armed Forces who, after July 1, 1958, participate in specified United States operations or those in direct support of the United Nations or friendly foreign nations MoreHide
Description The blockade began October 21 and, the next day, Kennedy delivered a public address alerting Americans to the situation. In his speech, he warned a frightened American public that the missiles on CubaThe blockade began October 21 and, the next day, Kennedy delivered a public address alerting Americans to the situation. In his speech, he warned a frightened American public that the missiles on Cuba were capable of hitting Washington, D.C. or anywhere in the southeastern portion of the country, the Panama Canal, Mexico City or “as far north as Hudson Bay, Canada, and as far south as Lima, Peru.” A military confrontation appeared imminent when Kennedy told his audience that he ordered the evacuation of the U.S. base at Guantanamo Bay in Cuba and put military units on standby. Boldly, he stated, “one path we shall never choose is the path of surrender or submission.”
Khrushchev responded by sending additional ships—possibly carrying military cargo—toward Cuba and by allowing construction at the missile sites to continue. Over the following six days, the Cuban Missile Crisis, as it is now known, brought the world to the brink of global nuclear war while the two leaders engaged in tense negotiations via telegram and letter.
Fortunately by October 28, Kennedy and Khrushchev had reached a settlement and people on both sides of the conflict breathed a collective but wary sigh of relief. The Cuban missile sites were dismantled and, in return, Kennedy agreed to close U.S. missile sites in Turkey.... More
Best Moment
The whole weekend cruise (48 hrs). Made 8 dives, stood lookout watches when surfaced and manuvering room watches when submerged. I slept in the overhead rack over the passageway in the after torpedo room, which getting in and out of was a feat in it self. All of which is a hell of a lot more then most skimmers and civilian ever get to do.
Worst Moment
The other three reservists got sea sick before we ever made the first dive, while leaving the channal, at the breakwater. The smell of puke spread through out the boat.
Other Memories
The whole two day expierence was something I will never forget. I felt like I was in a WWII war movie.
Other Memories
Ready Reserve Crew- Enlisted in Ready Reserves March 1960 to June 1961. Weekly drills at reserve center. Made three weekend cruises. Embarked for two weeks training, July 1960, in Charleston S.C. We got underway once, to shift berths.
NCCM Rick Pingre
NCCS Ron Milner
PO2 Bill Thomas//DPCS Ken Berlin
SKC Joe Jacobs//GMG2 Bob Farris
CPO Hank Webster
MMCM Rankin// PO1 Bob Gillis
PNCS Ed Helms// YN1 Carl Dent
Selection as Zone Supervisor of Quarter 4th Qtr. 1982.
Selection for advancement to NCCM Aug 1983.
Decision to Retire Oct. 1983, in Aug. 1984 after discovering available duty assignments.
NRD New york, Chief Recruiter
NRD Chicago, Zone Supervisor
USS America CVA-66 Command NC (Deploying ten days after reporting).
CO. Capt. J.C.Toland
XO. CDR. J.D.Firnbach
Chief Recruiter: NCCM Rick Pingrey
Race Days at Martinsville Speedway