September, 22, 1942,

The USS DETROIT had escorted a convoy of ships to the South Pacific. On return, the ship refueled in Pago Pago, Samoa. A few days after departing Pago Pago for Pearl Harbor, we received an urgent message that a PBY Catalina patrol plane - a flying boat - had been forced down into the sea, 500 miles southwest of Pearl Harbor. We received the message about 2:00 p.m. The ship went to flank speed, 31 knots. Using flank speed was a rare occasion and really exciting. We arrived at the scene around 7:00 p.m.. Ten men were gathered, sitting atop the large wing.

The crash boat was "called away." Actually, it was a whale-boat which dutifully hung on davits for any emergency.

As a signalman, I needed to man the crash boat. My equipment was a life preserver and a pair of semaphore flags to communicate with the ship. I received orders by flashing light, in Morse code.

When the boat crew was assembled and ready, we were lowered to the waterline. You know, the ocean is not a fixed entity; waves constantly rise and fall, so before the boat can be released from its falls, they smack against the bottom with terrific force. The bow and stern falls should be released---or hooked on---simultaneously.

When our boat was released from the falls, we motored toward the PBY, a distance of several hundred yards from the ship. In the trough of swells, we would lose sight of the plane. That's when signalmen come into play. When signalmen on the bridge of the ship saw us wandering in a wrong direction, (the bridge was 70 feet above the water line), they flashed, steer right or steer left, until we could see the PBY ourselves.

Finally, we made it alongside where the plane’s machine gun bubble blister was. The plane crew crawled from the plane into the boat. We took them over to the ship where they crawled up the side on a Jacob's ladder. We then returned to the plane where we worked at rigging a bridle to the plane's two engines. At the center point of the bridle, we tied one end of a long tow line and brought the other end of it to the stern of the ship, where deck-hands secured it.

November 9, 1942

The crew was called to the area in front of the pay-master's office. There, we were given a variety of shots and vaccinations---ten in all. Next time out, something different was going to happen. Scuttlebutt had it we might go to the East Coast. Then, cold weather gear came aboard and each member of the crew was issued a heavy jacket, leggings, face-mask and helmet. Some said, this was a diversionary tactic to fool the enemy, we're really going to the tropics.

The DETROIT got underway and we learned that the ship was assigned patrol duty in the North Pacific and Bering Sea.

Underway, the weather got cool, then cold. The seas became higher, then raging. Ice formed where sea spray struck the superstructure. Watch-standers top-side were provided foul weather gear --- mackinaws, heavy jackets, leggings, helmets face masks and galoshes. The winds were bitter; those of us with weather-deck watches needed to wear the face masks.

En route to Kodiak, the DETROIT encountered heavy seas. With the low ambient temperatures and ship plunging in the heavy seas, the ship had taken on a consider amount of sea spray which froze where it struck. Consequently, the fo'c's'le (forecastle) became covered with ice. And number-one stack became covered with a thick layer of salt as the salt water evaporated on its warm surface.

November 16, 1942 1143 Moored starboard side to Naval Fueling dock, Women's Bay, Kodiak Island, Alaska.

The ship docked in Woman's Bay for a brief stay. It was so cold, I chose not go ashore on liberty. However, some did. I learned from those who did, that there were bars, and whorehouses to accommodate those who would risk them. There were no comments on the quality of the merchandise. Some officers went Kodiak bear- hunting, up the mountain, across the inlet. Other shipmates returned with souvenirs, such as, "black diamonds" and soap-stone figurines.

"Although it was mighty cold, I went on liberty," "Shanty" Malone recalls. "I decided to make good use of the privilege and toured the town. On my way back to the ship I hitched a ride aboard a flat-bed truck, hauling stores. When it reached the dock where the DETROIT was moored, I realized a great opportunity. I picked up one of the cases and jumped off the truck, onto the dock. Some boards broke where I landed and I continued through rotten decking and on some pipes beneath it. Luckily, the pipes broke my fall and kept me from landing in the cold water. The truck drove on. I freed myself, retrieved my loot, and hustled aboard.

In the radio shack, the radiomen gathered around while the case was opened. We discovered it contained four, gallon-size cans of pineapple. They were pleasing treats for everybody."

November 24, 1942 1228 Underway. Departing from Women's Bay, Kodiak.

By December 7, 1941, U. S. military base-building had inched only as far as Unalaska Island in the Aleutian chain. Dutch Harbor had just 67 naval personnel on duty that day.

After raiding Dutch Harbor with carrier aircraft on 3 and 4, June 1942, other Japanese forces supported by 44 surface vessels landed unopposed on Kiska and Attu.

On 10 June, 1942, a PBY penetrated the Kiska mist to reveal that the enemy held a piece of the United States.

Not until after Kiska and Attu became possessions of the Japanese Empire, did the United States begin to hop toward Japan along some of the remaining 277 Aleutian Islands.

The DETROIT left Kodiak and steamed for Dutch Harbor in the Aleutian chain. We formed Task Force Eight, which included some destroyers. We began patrolling the sea, day in, and day out, month in, and month out, for nearly two years. As any shipmate would recall, it was fog, fog and more fog. On rare occasions the weather would clear. Once, off the Komandorski Islands, we could see the coast of Siberia, 200 miles away.

Often we experienced williwaws, a violent squall which could blow, with gusts of 70 to 100 miles an hour, chopping the sea into a raging fury.

Month in, month out, the DETROIT crew would not see land. When the ship needed refueling, she would steal into Adak's Kuluk Bay under cover of darkness, come alongside a tanker, refuel, and be underway again, before daybreak. Although we were in the vicinity of land, we went 105 days without seeing land.

During the summer months, sunset would work its way to

11:59 p.m.. Then, the sun rose again at 2:00 a.m.---twenty-two hours of daylight. The crew would be called to General Quarters, thirty minutes before each sunrise and sunset, and stay until thirty minutes after each sunrise and sunset. In the winter time, of course, it was the opposite, darkness, twenty-two hours a day.

The DETROIT and her escorts were always on a zigzag plan, changing course at odd times to thwart enemy submarines that may be lurking in the area.

The night of January 11, 1943, our naval invasion fleet slammed around off Amchitka. When the storm slacked a bit, impatient and afraid of time, which was eating up his supplies, Rear Admiral McMorris, ordered the Army to go ashore in the morning regardless of weather. Shortly after midnight he ordered the destroyer WORDEN to move into Amchitka's Constantine Harbor and land her spearhead detachment of Alaska Scouts. At that time the surf was running bridge-high on the destroyer. The WORDEN blasted through the surf shortly before dawn. The scouts were loaded into whaleboats and taken ashore through a driving blizzard. When the WORDEN steamed back out of the harbor, the brutal current dashed her onto a pinnacle rock.. It came through her hull like a torpedo, punctured the steel plates and ripped open her engine room. Destroyer DEWEY race to her assistance, rigged a cable and tried to pull the WORDEN off the rock. But she was impaled. The cable broke; WORDEN pivoted and capsized. Her crew abandoned ship and DEWEY circled to pick them up, but the sea was running to twenty-foot crests and the water temperature stood at 36 degrees Fahrenheit. Fourteen sailors drowned in a few minutes.

One of the USS DETROIT (flag) signalmen, Haskins SM1.c, was in the landing party sent ashore that morning. He survived and returned to the ship after the invasion.

January 16, 1943 0004 This force disposed (arranged) on scouting line, attempting to intercept Japanese convoy en route to Kiska.

1130 Changed course to 030(T).

1131 Changes speed to 10 knots.

1140 U.S.S. INDIANAPOLIS recovered man who had fallen overboard.

1141 Secured from man overboard

January 17, 1943, while on patrol in the North Pacific, (Position: 179-18-00 E., 50-58-00 N., (Approximately 100 miles south of Kiska Island.)the USS INDIANAPOLIS, a heavy cruiser, was with the DETROIT. The DETROIT, as flagship, led the column by three thousand yards. The zigzag plan called for a right turn. The DETROIT began the turn, but the INDIANAPOLIS was required to wait until she was in the exact spot where the DETROIT began hers, before she would start her turn.

As the DETROIT went into the turn, a wave broke over the fantail. An unsuspecting seaman was washed overboard.

At the time, says John McGoran, I was standing on the starboard side of the signal bridge watching the INDIANAPOLIS.

Suddenly, I saw a man's head bobbing in our wake. It was shocking. Alert, I became! It was a wake-up call! But I knew exactly what I had to do. I yelled, "MAN OVERBOARD!", in the direction of the pilothouse. Mr Cushman was OOD; he took appropriate action for maneuvering the ship. Then, I ran to the center of the bridge, and yanked on the halyard, breaking open a bundled FIVE FLAG, indicating man-overboard to all ships present. Then, I ran to the signal lamp on the starboard wing of the bridge, where I repeatedly flashed "five dots" to the USS INDIANAPOLIS, which in Morse Code is the man-over-board alert message.

The INDIANAPOLIS's crew worked fast. They had our unlucky sailor aboard their ship in record time. It was believed then that 15 minutes in the Bering Sea's extremely cold water was sure death. After a few days he was transferred back to the DETROIT. Later, after he reported back on board, he came to the signal bridge to thank me for my part in his rescue.

7:30 p.m.: John McGoran received a telephone call from John J. Dowling. Dowling related the following:

"I was at loading drill at the after-twin when I was washed overboard. In the water with the large waves I couldn't see the INDIANAPOLIS. I thought I was finished.

The INDIANAPOLIS fired a line (with a line-throwing gun)over me and I grabbed onto it. They pulled me in toward the ship where they tossed a larger line down to me. I wrapped it around me and they lifted me aboard. When I got on deck, I was so cold I couldn't stand on my feet.

I spent four days on the USS INDIANAPOLIS. Afterward, they transferred me to the USS TAPPAHANOCK(an oil tanker)for about five days. Then I was transferred back to the DETROIT."

January 22, 1943 1045 Sighted Amchitka Island, bearing 020(T), distance 13 miles.

January 24, 1943 0315 Sighted lights which are apparently from Constantine Harbor, Amchitka Island.

0900 General Quarters.

0945 Made emergency turn 9 after submarine contact report from USS BANCROFT. All engine ahead 20 knots.

USS BANCROFT proceeded to track contact after dropping two depth charges and marker.

1032 Secured from G. Q..

1128 Lookout reported torpedo wake broad on port beam. Rudder hard left. Full speed. Steadied on 230(T). Wake passed stern.

1235 USS BAILEY and BANCROFT seen to drop depth charges.

1236 Changed speed to 20 knots. Changes course to 000(T).

1743 Sighted what appeared to be bomb splashes and smoke in Constantine Harbor.

January 30, 1943 1514 Proceeding to south of Kiska Island to intercept Japanese Merchant Ships en route to Kiska.

February 8, 1943 1800 Underway from Dutch Harbor. Steaming independently.

The DETROIT is proceeding to the Puget Sound Navy Ship Yard for restricted availability to effect repairs to #2 and #3 engines in accordance with ComSerForPac 072027 of Feb., and CTF 8 of February.

The colors depend on the mix of nitrogen and oxygen, turned into the equivalent of a giant neon sign by electrically charged particles from the sun. Carried by the solar wind and then picked up by the earth's magnetic field, the particles create a gigantic natural generator, producing up to 10 million megawatts of electricity which ionizes the gases and makes them glow.

It was a wonderful experience for those of us who had the good fortune to observe this phenomenon of nature.

February 13, 1943 1742 Moored port side to Pier #5 in Puget Sound Navy Yard, Bremerton, Washington.

USS TENNESSEE (SOPA). USS CALIFORNIA and other units of the Pacific Fleet present.

From February 13 to March 17, 1943, the DETROIT was in Bremerton Navy Yard for repairs to a turbine in number one engine room. While in the Aleutians the turbine threw a blade. At Bremerton, a hole was cut through the galley in order for the machinery to be removed for repairs.

Two-weeks leave was granted to everybody in the port and starboard watches, during the overhaul. My brother and I purchased a United Airlines ticket for Chicago. The plane was a Douglas DC-3. We took-off from Boeing Field in darkness and headed south, passing to the west of 14,411 foot high Mt. Rainier, which was spectacular in the moonlight. Our course took us just east of Portland, OR, then changed course for Boise, Idaho, where we landed to refuel. The dog-legged course was required due to a weather front on the more direct route.

On take-offs and landing, the window shades were required to be pulled closed, for security. Our attractive stewardess entertained the passengers with card games.

Flying through mountain passes on a DC-3 was an unforgettable experience. At times, one could look out the window and see automobiles driving at the same altitude as our United Airlines plane was flying. In those days, that was common practice to conserve fuel.

Passengers were allowed to visit the cockpit. I was invited to stand between the pilot and co-pilot during the take-off run from Denver's Stapleton Airport. With full power applied, the pilot held the plane's wheels on the runway until near the end of the runway, then smoothly he pulled back on the controls, letting the plane lift into the air, just short of the runway end. Obviously, he found his work fun. In my opinion, his procedure wasn't necessarily reckless.

Flying between cities was done in the old fashioned way, checking beacons with their unique flashes of light, which, he said, spelled out a sentence.

The trip took twenty-one hours aboard the twenty-one passenger DC-3. The last stop I recall was Cheyenne, Wyoming. After that one, I fell asleep. I was gently awakened at Chicago's Midway Airport.

At Midway Airport, we learned that United in Seattle had failed to put our bags on the plane. I would have to solve that unfortunate situation after I arrived home. From Chicago, my brother and I took a train to our home town, Grand Rapids, Michigan.

The few days at home were pleasantly spent with our mother and father and with friends. One day was spent with a former employer, a produce wholesaler, while he made his rounds, calling on customers.

Another day I visited the nuns at the grade school where I went as a youngster. They had heard that I had been at Pearl Harbor during the Japanese attack. The care and attentiveness they showered on me, made me feel strange. They made me out a hero, but I didn't feel like one. Here I was, at home, while friends and shipmates from the battleship CALIFORNIA were out in the Pacific, fighting for their lives. I felt I wasn't doing my share; I felt guilty.

When we checked in at Chicago Midway terminal for our return flight, we were told we had been "bumped." There wouldn't be another plane until tomorrow---and it would be with Northwest Airlines.

My brother and I needed a place for the night. The only hotel we had ever heard about in Chicago was the Palmer House. So we hiked in search of transportation into the city. A bus took us to the downtown "loop." From there, we walked to the Palmer House. We were shocked to learn that the price of a room was $35.00. We pooled our money and signed up for the night.

After boot camp, Bob had been sent to the Northwestern University, for additional training. While there, he made friends. One in particular lived in Cicero. So, with the evening free, Bob called him and he invited us to his home. The fellow entertained us with a supply of beer, lots of beer. The more he drank, the looser his tongue flapped.

One of the stories I remembered was about a project he was working on at the University. It was a new type of bomb. This bomb was different. "Bombs explode; this one is being made to IMPLODE. Air will accelerate to the center of the detonation, then, rush to high altitudes."

For months and months afterwards, I'd tell shipmates about the new bomb. My tale was met with, "Yeah man, uh huh." Everybody figured I'd had too much to drink, that night. Not until Hiroshima, did they begin to believe.

We returned to the hotel, early in the morning, and as a result, we didn't get much rest for our $35.00 investment in the Palmer House. We needed to be awakened early and head for Midway Airport. Yes. We found ourselves on the list of passengers of a Northwest DC-3.

The entire trip across the states was miserable. The planes heating system was defective. There was no heat what-so-ever in the cabin. The stewardess handed out blankets for warmth. But it was a long, cold, flight across the northern states.

Northwest Airlines made stops at several cities along the way, including Minneapolis, Minnesota; Minot, North Dakota;

Billings and Butte, Montana; and finally Boeing Field, Seattle. We recovered our lost bags. They were still on the shelf in United Airlines downtown terminal.

Wally Graves, one of the buglers, was a prankster. Wally often returned from liberties with bruises, lacerations and abrasions, which he acquired through his misbehavior.

After several beers in the Seattle pubs, Wally would announce,

"When Wally drinks, everybody drinks."

Of course, the bartender would pour a round of drinks.

Then!! Wally would announce,

"And, when Wally pays, everybody pays."

A fight was sure to follow.

The ship got underway from Bremerton on "sea trials." We steamed up to the Juan de Fuca Straits, off Port Angeles, Washington. During a drill, a torpedo was accidently launched. It headed in the direction of a ferryboat, crossing over to Vancouver Island, Canada. It caused great concern on the bridge. Luckily, it missed the ferry.

Late in the afternoon, the DETROIT would dock at Port Angeles, Washington for the night and the crew was granted liberty.

On other occasions, overnight was spent docked at Port Townsend, Washington.

While in Port Townsend, three of us in one group went ashore. While walking down the main street, we were assaulted by several youths, about 18 years of age. In order to protect ourselves, we took refuge in the darkness between two old buildings.

Luckily, we found a couple of boards we used as weapons to defend ourselves. We waded into the group, swinging wickedly. As it turned out, they skedaddled, and so did we.

In another incident while at Port Townsend, a railway locomotive, left unattended and with its engine running, was taken for a ride down the tracks. Credit for that went to the USS DETROIT's black gang. Who else had steam locomotion knowledge?

Mar. 28,1943 1730 Moored Dutch Harbor, Terr. of Alaska.

I have some old and cold memories of sinking of #2 motor whale boat. I remember the day before the sinking; it may have been at Sand Bay, Great Sitkin Island. I took a working party to the beach and it was like riding a surfboard. We would pick up a swell and surge ahead at great speed. It seemed like we would come to a stop until we picked up the next swell; then the boat would take off again.

We alternated whale boat crews after each trip because of the cold. While standing on the fantail waiting for my next trip, a shipmate said to me, "I don't know how those boats stay afloat in that rough water. The swells were so high that I couldn't see your boat, half the time." I told him, "They are almost unsinkable."

I don't think that Bos'n Rastin ever forgave me for sinking the boat. He thought we had too much power on. I think he was right.

Ed: Later, pieces of the boat were found on a mountain-side some

50-feet above the shoreline.

Prior to the landings at Attu, the DETROIT participated in

several bombardments April, 26 1943 was one...Holtz Bay and Chichagof, Attu. (Pronounced Chi-Cha-coff.)

At General Quarters, during the bombardment of Holtz Bay,

I watched as the gun crews fired at a Japanese truck traveling on a road in the village. Several rounds were fired, each creeping up on the truck. Finally, POW!!! The truck just disappeared.

During the bombardment, the DETROIT was ten thousand yards off Attu island. The Japanese were returning fire; their shells were exploding like geysers between the DETROIT and a destroyer about, 1:30 o’clock, on our starboard bow.

On the port side of the signal bridge, Admiral Charles "Soc" McMorris and Captain Geiselman were in discussion. I heard Admiral McMorris order Captain Geiselman to maneuver the DETROIT closer in to the target. Captain Geiselman refused. An argument ensued between the two:

Admiral McMorris strongly said, "I am commander of this task group, I said, get in closer."

Captain Geiselman said with defiance, "I am captain of this ship and we're staying right where we are."

I can vouch for the fact that Captain Gieselman prevailed. He kept the DETROIT at the nine thousand yard range.

Bernard Craig tells about his day of the bombardment. Gunners Mate Douglas cleared sailors from the forward-gun-room fast, when a powder-bag was found to be too "fat" to fit behind the shell in the breech of the gun. Douglas laid the powder-bag on the deck, where he beat it and rolled it until it was the right size to slip into the breech.