Chapter Five

Or

Life Aboard A Destroyer

And

A Real Taste of War

         
            My new Captain greeted me warmly and invited me to have a cup of coffee with him in his cabin for a get acquainted visit.  I gladly accepted the invitation.  He rang for the steward on duty for a pot of coffee which arrived minutes later.   I should explain right away to the reader that no matter what the rank of the Commanding Officer of a naval vessel carries, he is always referred to as Captain.  My Captain, held the rank of Lieutenant Commander.
   
            He inquired about my three years at the Academy, asked about my interests, sports, single or married, from what State, etc.  It was a very relaxing visit and he put me completely at ease.    I observed a ring on his ring finger left hand and recognized it as a Naval Academy ring.  When I inquired what class he was in, I learned that he was from the class of 1928.  He carried a cigar in his left hand, often taking it to his mouth, but I never saw him puff on it.  In his shirt breast pocket were two more fresh cigars.  I was to learn right then that this man loved his cigars, never was without one, no matter what the time of day or what he was doing.  He told me that I was to be assigned to the Engineering department which was headed by a Lieutenant Ralph Moureau. He then introduced me  to the Chief Steward who took me down to Wardroom Country, or that portion of the ship just forward of the wardroom where the Officers staterooms are located.  I was to share a stateroom with another officer, Lt. (j.g.) Frank Ayers.  The room was tiny, contained one built in bunk, a second berth was just above, suspended by chains from the ceiling, a lavatory, medicine cabinet, and a small clothes cabinet on either side of the room. There was a small desk, a small drawer, one on each side, four drawers underneath, and two small safes, one on each side of the desk.   No carpeting or other adornments, in fact, the deck was cold, hard steel.  Barefoot trips down the passageway to the head was for slippers of some kind!!  It was obvious that someone had been occupying the lower bunk so guess who got the upper.  But after I got the hang of getting into it, I liked it.  Just be a little careful when you exit during the darkness for whatever reason!  I stowed my gear and it wasn’t long before Frank came in and we introduced ourselves.  He was the torpedo and depth charge officer.  I came to respect Frank as a very dedicated reserve officer.  He loved his job and always claimed to have the best duty in the Navy.

            Next was Lt. Ralph Moureau, the Chief engineer and my immediate boss.    Ralph was an Academy graduate but had resigned from the Navy a few years earlier but had been called up as a reservist when  war was declared.  He was small, wiry, and appeared to be very intense.   I was to soon learn that he was considered to be the hardest working officer aboard the Bailey.  I certainly agreed with that.  More later. Ralph smoked cigarettes, tons of them.  It nearly drove me crazy.  He almost always used a long cigarette holder of the same type used by Franklin Roosevelt.  Sort of odd, I thought to myself, an officer crawling around engineering spaces smoking a ciggy with a holder?  But I certainly respected him in so many ways.

Ralph gave me an assignment, which was to complete a course of study on the engineering plant on the Bailey.  Wow!   It took time, lots of it.  And you were asked to draw out the schematics of every pipe line for every system.  High pressure steam, low pressure steam, evaporator salt water, fresh water, hot water, cold water, fuel oil, diesel oil, and on and on.  This was to be accomplished while off watch, which I’ll tell you about in a minute.  Believe it or not, after 56 years, I still remember some of the statistics I learned  out of that study, but by no means all of them.  Let me tell you just a few.

The Bailey was 347 feet long, and displaced 1620 tons, not a very large ship.  She had a beam of 36 feet, a draft of 17 feet, and could achieve a maximum speed of 37 knots or approximately  40 miles per  hour.  She carried four  5 inch 38 caliber single mount guns as her main battery; had two quad mounted 40 millimeter anti-aircraft guns along with a dozen 20 millimeter anti-aircraft guns, and 12 Y guns for the discharge of depth charges used to fight submarines.  Finally, she had five 21 inch torpedoes that could be trained and fired either to starboard or port.  For such a small ship she was literally packed with armament.  Her speed and small target made her an impressive adversary.  The engineering details about the Bailey would likely bore you to death so I won/t go into them.  But when I first visited the boiler rooms and the engineering rooms you can rest assured I was impressed---GREATLY!. there were pipes, pumps, valves, gauges, everywhere.  It was one large tinker toy set--how did they ever assemble this stuff?  It would all make sense as I went through the engineering course.
 
            We were only in dry dock for a couple of weeks, during which time I was getting acquainted with this new home of mine and my new shipmates on whom I would come to depend on for my very life.  And we did get into Boston for some good sea food meals.  But mostly it was work, drill, work, study, and get the Bailey and her crew ready to go to War.  When we were declared ready to go on a shakedown (where you literally try out every piece of machinery to see if  it works properly),  we went to sea and underwent the sea trials;  maximum speed, turning radius, and hundreds of other tests.  And almost immediately after that we were sent on anti-submarine hunts.  At that time, the fall of ‘42, German subs were sinking ships just off the East Coast.  But, we never contacted one, and our duty on anti-submarine patrol only lasted until September.  Then, we took on fuel and headed for the Panama Canal Zone, arriving there in 5 full days.  After passing through the Canal, we were now a part of the  Pacific fleet. We took on fuel again and headed for San Diego.  Every minute at sea, or so it seemed, we were engaged in some kind of drill,  fire in the paint locker, man over board, steering gear broke down, go to general quarters,  you name it, we had it.  It seemed to me that there was no time to study, or even eat, as we were constantly being directed to go to our watch station, practice some gunnery drill, or something.
 
            When several of us went ashore to get some of Boston’s excellent sea food, some of the officers who were married had their wives with them.  And I became a little envious.    I thought of Susie and what she might be doing, and maybe dating someone?  She would have every right to for we were not engaged, had never even discussed it.  It was at times like this that I longed for her company.  For the time being, I would just have to dream about her and write letters which I did quite frequently.  And I did call her a few times, but that was rarely possible.  The telephone booths on the dock were always busy, long lines of naval people waiting to use the phone.  And when I was able to get to a phone, it was working hours for Sue and no way to call her.  It was discouraging to say the least.
 
            Most of our drills were conducted during daylight hours.  And when we weren’t conducting drills of some kind, the normal ship activities were going on which meant that there was no time, repeat no time for relaxing, or taking a rest from the constant drills, drills, and more drills.  Our Captain knew what he was doing, for the time would come when all the drills would pay off--in the survival of our ship and in the lives of me and my shipmates.
  
            Now on top of all the drills mentioned above, we were standing what is called one in three watches.  In peacetime, the 4 hours on watch, followed by 8 hours off watch, works like this.  For the 8 to 12 watch in the morning, you are called to eat your breakfast and report to your watch station by 7:45 AM so that you are prepared in all respects to relieve your predecessor by the 8 A.M. start of your watch.  You remain on duty until your relief has had his noon meal and reports to relieve you by around 12:30.  He remains on duty until 15:45 when he in turn is relieved,  you are off duty, free to do what you must to get some much needed work done, inspections, drills, or if you are really clever, get in a quick siesta.  Soon there is the evening meal and by 19:45 you must be back at your watch station ready to stand your 2000 to 2400 watch.  Now if that was all there was to it, it wouldn’t be so bad.  But there was this thing called general quarters, almost always , always always always in war time, when the guns were fully manned, the ship was in all respects ready to fight the enemy.  General quarters was called from about 30 minutes before sunrise and lasted until 30 minutes after sunrise,  then again 30 minutes before sunset until 30 minutes after sunset.  Why those hours?  Because that has always been the favorite time for an enemy attack--either against us or by us and we just had to be prepared.  So when you compound the watch duties with the general quarters, the drills, eating of meals, maybe getting in a shower and a shave, perhaps the luxury of writing a letter to your sweetie or your parents, you can see that resting and sleeping became a rare commodity.  Over a period of just a few days one became fatigued to the point of exhaustion.  Men and Officers became edgy, difficult to get along with.  All you wanted to do was get some rest.

            Now what about the state of readiness called General Quarters.  It is announced by the Officer who is on duty on the bridge.  It could be the Officer of the Deck, or any other office on the bridge, usually the Executive Officer or the Commanding Officer.  It is sounded when in the sole opinion of the Officer of the Deck, whoever that may be, feels that the crew should immediately be called to their battle station.  Every gun, and all ammunition handling and supply systems are manned, every engineering job, all depth charges and the torpedo tubes, the damage control party , the cooks, radio room personnel,  messengers, talkers, every one has an assignment and may not under any conditions leave his station without severe penalties--such as a General Court Martial.  That very loud, piercing klaxon style sound distributed throughout every   compartment of the ship will forever remain in my memory.
 
            The condition of General Quarters may remain in effect as long as the Commanding Officer deems it necessary.  Such a condition may exist for several hours.  When securing from General Quarters, a lesser state of readiness is declared and men who had been on duty may be required to go right back on duty for another watch of 4 or more hours.  Is it any wonder that after several days of this type of readiness men are totally exhausted?

            While I was still named as an Assistant Engineering Officer, I had also been given the additional duties of an Assistant Gunnery Officer.  So I was now wearing two hats.  And the Assistant Gunnery Officer spot was considered the more senior of the two.  I was pleased to now be a part of the Gunnery department.
 
              My General Quarters assignment was in the Main Battery Fire Control Room as the Officer in charge.  There were 9 other enlisted personnel in the space  with me.    This is a space of about 20 feet by 20 feet and is located roughly half way between the bow and the stern of the ship, and is amidships.  It is located immediately forward of the forward fire room, where the steam and electricity is generated to drive the engines and provide electrical power for the entire ship and all its equipment.  The fire control room contained a main battery computer, a huge thing by comparison with modern day computers.  It was about 30 inches by 30 inches square and about 36 inches tall.  On two bulkheads were switches and gauges of all kinds, and two battle lanterns that were so rigged that if power was lost, they came on by battery power so that the compartment still had light.  But the light was a bluish light, an eerie feeling came over the room once they came on.

            The fire control space was located one deck below the water line and was closed by one water tight door so that one could not leave that space under any conditions without violating water tight security.  No, there were no toilet facilities in that space.
       
            On arrival in San Diego we took on fuel, then had a liberty and most of the officers not on duty went to a restaurant.  Wives were no longer with  us as they had returned to their homes from Boston.  But I thought of Susie, wondered how she was, and finally got a phone call through to her and we had a short visit.  I had a warm feeling in my heart when we hung up, longing to hear her soft sweet voice again.
 
            From San Diego we were ordered to proceed on to San Francisco and there to wonder where fate would send us next.  Speculation was rampant that we would be on our way to the South Pacific, for that  was where most of the war was being fought at that time.  We had several weeks in San Francisco and during that time I requested and was granted 10 days leave.  I again called Susie. and told her of my leave and asked her to try and get leave and to meet me back in Iowa, she at her parents on the farm, and me going to my parents about five miles away.    She was still working for the Army Air Forces in Washington.  To my extreme delight, she agreed to try,  and in a day or two our plans were made for the reunion.   OH HAPPY DAY!!!
  
            We had a great time together, getting acquainted with families, enjoying great meals that our Mothers fixed for us.  And Susie and I had some personal heart to heart talks.  I was on an emotional high, when we talked of maybe someday getting married.  But after several such discussions, we mutually decided to wait until the war was over.  We both thought that if I were to be severely injured or worse, it would put a severe strain on a new marriage and so it was sealed--no wedding bells now.  But I did surprise her completely when I pulled out a ring, a miniature ring of the exact same design that I wore as a graduate of the Academy.  We announced to our parents our decision and they applauded it, thought we were wise, and that was the end of that discussion.  When we parted, Sue returning to Washington and I to my ship, my heart was sad.  Why does it have to be this way I said to myself.  But there was nothing else I could do.

            I had barely reported back aboard ship when the orders were issued  to draw foul weather gear,  that included very heavy jackets, pants of the overall type, lined and padded with insulating material, galoshes, gloves and mittens, face shields, goggles, hats of the helmet type that fasten under the chin.   That meant one thing:  Northern waters, cold waters, and that was almost a certainty to be the Aleutian Islands.  Our worst fears were soon realized as on the 16th  of September 1942 we set sail for Kodiak , Alaska.
 
            We arrived at Kodiak on September 28, took on fuel and headed for a rendezvous with the U. S. S. Indianapolis, a heavy cruiser.  We were in the area of Dutch Harbor at the time of the rendezvous and the foul weather gear we had taken aboard at San Francisco was greatly in evidence.  Everyone was wearing the bulky clothing when exposed to the elements.  It was bitterly cold with a chill factor of zero or lower.  And there always seemed to be a wind.  Spray from the sea would cut across the ship, often freezing on the decks and rigging, making it extremely difficult to walk from one part of the ship to another.  Extra life lines were rigged up so that you had an extra handhold to aid you walking.
 
            Perhaps you are wondering just what I did during those days we were at sea.  I mentioned the watches that everyone stood, and initially I was assigned the duty of Assistant Officer of the Deck.  That meant aiding the Officer of the Deck in many ways; being alert to other nearby ships, watching the course being steered by the helmsman, alert for signals of any kind from the other ships in the area, making certain the  Captains orders were carried out such as changing course or speed at the designated time, and on and on.  But often, there was very little to occupy your mind, boredom could set in.  Sleep often tugged at you but never, never let it overcome you.  The nighttime watches were the worst.  You were constantly tired, the bridge was dark except for the glow of the lighted instruments such as the compass so it was easy to be tempted to stand in a corner and catch a few winks of shuteye.  I had been assigned to Lt. Charlie Ponds who was my Officer of the Deck.  Charlie was a most likable fellow, quiet, always composed, focused on the job, and very willing to talk to me about our ship, the Navy, the war, our family, etc.  Charlie had an adorable wife named Margaret that I had met in Boston  and we talked about her quite a lot.  I grew to have more respect for Charlie than any other officer shipmate.  While I also grew to respect my Captain, I didn’t enjoy the one on one relationship that I did with Charlie.
 
            Shortly after joining up with the Indianapolis, we went in to Dutch Harbor, for fuel and provisions.  The weather couldn’t have been worse.  We were in what the natives called a Willywaw--a severe and often sudden storm.  Winds along with snow could hit you at gale force--up to 60 or 70 knots.  And the mountainous seas were treacherous.  We had been instructed to tie up to a buoy, but couldn’t get close enough to effect the tie up.  Finally, the Captain received permission to drop anchor which he did.  But he took the precaution to instruct the engine room to maintain steam up to the throttle so that in an instant, we could get underway should that become necessary.  After fighting the wind and seas, anchoring, and writing his orders to the Officer of the Deck, the Captain went below to his sea cabin for a well deserved rest.  I was up on the bridge during the 000 to 0400 watch when by taking bearings on fixed objects  on the shore it was apparent we were moving--or dragging our anchor.  The Captain was called by ship’s phone and the danger reported to him.  In a flash he was on the bridge, dressed only in his pajamas but he had taken a second to get that cigar so I guess in his mind he was fully dressed.  We sent below for a pair of pants, shoes, and his heavy coat, helped him step into the trousers and put on his coat as he gave orders to the helmsman and issued instructions to the engine room to make so many turns.  Meaning, turn the propellers so as to make 10 knots, or 20 knots, or whatever was required to keep the ship underway and avoid being driven aground.    Rather quickly we were out of danger of being dragged onto the rocky shore but we didn’t miss by much.  It was scary to say the least.  Through it all the Captain was calm, orderly, didn’t appear to be excited but was just doing his job.  A blinker signal was received saying the anti-submarine nets that had closed the entrance to Dutch Harbor had been swept away by the mountainous seas and at the option of our Captain we were free to proceed out of the harbor to the open sea.  Our Captain chose to accept that option and as we gained the open sea, the mountainous seas swept over us.  They hit us from the beam and so we rolled, rolled to the point of taking some sea water down one of the smoke stacks, and for a moment, our forward fire room  was out of commission.  The damage was quickly controlled and the power restored, otherwise I hate to think what might have happened.  The Captain was finally able to point the bow of the ship into the wind and sea, making her less subject to the violent rolling.  Let me tell you, there were more than a few sea sick sailors that night, even the old hands who long ago got their sea legs were sick.  Me?  I was one of the lucky ones, never had a problem.  But food of any kind was not very appealing.
 
             Finally the storm abated and we were able to re-enter Dutch Harbor, tie up to a buoy, and take on our much needed fuel and provisions.  There were three or four days to complete those tasks, do some maintenance on some of the machinery and otherwise, get the ship ready to proceed to sea with  the U. S. S. Salt Lake City, and three other destroyers who made up our task force.   They were the Dale, Monaghan, and the Coughlan.  The Indianapolis had been detached and replaced by a light cruiser, the U.S.S.  Richmond.

            On March 16, 1943, the Bailey left Dutch Harbor along with the Richmond and the Coughlan to form a patrol just southwest of Kiska.   On March 22, the Salt Lake City, the destroyers Dale and Monaghan joined up so it was now a task force of 6 ships.  On the 25th, the Bailey and the other destroyers pulled along side the Salt Lake City to be fueled, always a somewhat risky procedure.  But in the heavy seas of the Aleutians, the procedure can be extremely  hazardous and has often resulted  in parted fuel lines resulting in large amounts of oil spillage, personal injury and damage to ships.
 
            It is necessary now to back track one day and mention that on the 21st, an enemy float plane was observed at long range, which clearly indicated that the enemy was nearby.  A float plane is normally carried by only heavy or sometimes by light cruisers.  I’ve never heard whether our task force commander was aware of the total strength of any enemy force, but it would have been logical for him to draw the conclusion that at least an enemy heavy cruiser and its escorts were  in the vicinity.   Why?  Cruisers are normally escorted by other vessels, logically destroyers.   After the war we all learned that the Japanese codes had been  broken and Washington was aware of Japanese ships being sent to the Aleutians with troops and supplies destined for Kiska, Attu, and other Japanese held islands.  Thus, Washington knew that a force was in our area, but did not know the composition of that force.  We did not have those details.  Our Task Force Commander had only been told to expect  trouble--lots of it.  And we were shortly to find it.   AND HOW!!!

            On the early morning of March 26, while at General Quarters,  the Coughlan reported two ships on her radar screen.  Our battle lines were drawn and speed increased to 25 knots.  Soon we were told that several more enemy ships were sighted, at least two of them large ships.  It was about this time that our Captain announced to all hands that this was not just a general quarters drill, but that we were undoubtedly headed into a battle with a superior enemy force.  Soon it was announced that the enemy consisted of two heavy cruisers, two light cruisers, and six, count ‘em, six destroyers.  We were going to be outgunned almost two to one!!!  You don’t expect to survive from odds like that.
 
            What followed  began with the enemy heavy cruiser opening fire at 0845 and thus began the longest daylight naval engagement  in the history of the U.S. Navy.  It was not to end until 1230. The battle was fought under most unusual conditions in the Aleutians, good visibility and a calm sea.  The complete details of the battle that took place are far to numerous to relate here.  I will only attempt to relate the salient and important facts as they affected the Bailey and me.  Should anyone really want the complete story I would refer you to a book entitled the Battle of the Komandorski Islands,  written by John  A. Lorelli.  I treasure that book in my library as this is being written in December 1998.
 
             We  had been firing at a range of 12,000 yards  (six nautical miles)   while making speed of 32 or more knots.  I do not know personally if any of our shells had hit the leading cruiser that we were directed to fire on, other ships in our force were also firing at the same target,.  But the enemy ship was seen to take several hits as reported by our bridge and lookouts.  Remember I am in the locked water tight compartment in the Fire Control room so we were completely isolated from any vision of the battle scene.  Suddenly, we were told over our sound powered telephones  that our own heavy cruiser, the Salt Lake,  had been severely damaged and was stopped dead in the water.    Our task force screen commander who was aboard the Bailey, then directed the Bailey and two other  destroyers to make a torpedo attack on the leading enemy cruiser, with one destroyer to remain behind and set up a smoke screen to hide the whereabouts of the Salt Lake.  Hopefully, the enemy would not find her in her severely weakened condition and direct all their fire to close in and sink her.  As the word for the torpedo attack was announced to all hands, there was absolute total silence as we stared at each other and wondered if we could possibly survive it.  I didn’t and I don’t think anyone else did either.  Typically, a torpedo attach is made at maximum speed and torpedoes are not launched until you are as close as you can possibly get which greatly increases the possibility of hits.  Speed was increased to around 34 or 35 knots and we turned toward our enemy.  The range began to close rapidly.  Soon we were hearing the sounds of enemy shells landing close to us--a kerchunk sort of sound.  Then a very large close explosion, it came from the compartment just forward of us, where the ships stores, food,  was kept. and the galley was located.    Then another explosion  occurred just aft of us and almost immediately water started coming in and soon reached shoe top level.  All this time we were getting off a salvo  every 12 to 15 seconds from our two forward guns as they were the only ones who could bear on the target.    We were in a very perilous situation, and I stopped to pray to God for protection.  As the range continued to close, we shook hands with other, wished us all God’s protection, and then the lights went out.  We had lost all power.and were slowing steadily, 20 knots, 15 knots, 10 knots, then 5 and finally stopped.  Our Captain ordered the signal hoisted “My speed zero”.    As the 32 degree temperature water continued to rise around our feet, I felt certain that my time had come.  The water was numbing cold.  We tried to stuff a couple of life jackets in the crack in the bulkhead where the water was seeping in, and that was able to stop most of it, but it continued to slowly rise until it was just below our knees.  There were lulls during this period and I was able to keep a rough diary of the events of that morning.  I still have it among my memoirs.

            Finally the distance between the enemy and us had closed to only 9500 yards and at that range, it is considered almost impossible for a heavy cruiser to miss her target.  It is like looking down the barrel of a rifle.  Well, the cruiser didn’t miss, as we shall see in a moment.  At 9500 yards, our torpedoes were fired.  All were observed to run normally.  At least one torpedo struck home and the enemy immediately turned to break off the engagement.  Within minutes, our own damage control party under the leadership of Lt. Ralph Moreau was able to get the ship underway again and it was then reported that the Salt Lake City had also gotten underway.  Were we safe at last?  No one knew, but we had turned from the battle area, about 600 miles from the Komandorski Islands toward Dutch Harbor about 1200 miles away. 
            As soon as we were out of immediate danger, the Commanding Officer of the Salt Lake City, Captain Rodgers, send a message by blinker light that read, and I am quoting from a copy of it in my scrap book “The Salt Lake City extends its most heartful thanks for the magnificent work you and your ships did today x We are proud of you and dammed grateful”.  There were several other messages exchanged most of which related to battle damage sustained, number of casualties, ammunition expended. and so on.
 
            There was a sigh of relief as all hands relaxed for the moment---every single one of us dead tired, fully spent,  needing a trip to the head, and desperate for at least a cup of coffee and food.  How had we managed to escape the far superior enemy force?  Lots of good luck and superior seamanship and gunnery on the part of the ship’s officers and crews.  This battle was to go down in history as an example of how the odds can be against you but still manage to escape and inflict heavy damage to the enemy.  We never knew how much real damage was inflicted to the Japanese forces.  But it was clear, had they pressed their advantage when they had it, our forces would and probably should have been annihilated.  This battle has been replayed over and over again in the War games of the Naval War College, always with the same result,   the U. S. forces were defeated.
 
            Earlier I spoke of Lt. Ralph Moureau and his reputation as the hardest working officer aboard ship.  As the engineering officer, he was also the damage control officer.  As such his main duty was to keep the engineering equipment of all kinds functioning and to repair as quickly as possible any battle damage the ship might receive.   Ralph held drills of his damage control party daily, usually during the  time we were at  general quarters.  He made up exercises with examples of pipe lines being damaged, or electrical cables cut, as well as many others to give his crew the practice and skills necessary to know how to react instinctively to any emergency.   Everyone felt that it was his knoulege and leadership that enabled the Bailey to survive her wounds, critical as they were.  It was his damage control party that had made jury rigs for power, kept other compartments from flooding, and on and on that enabled the Bailey to survive.
 
            Later that afternoon we went from General Quarters to a watch and watch--or 4 hours on duty and 4 hours off.  The battle damage was  being assessed which was far beyond what I had expected and is reported here in some detail.   We were operating on one engine and one fire room as those two main  compartments had been completely flooded. When we finally secured from general quarters and I went up on deck I was shocked to observe how low in the water we were.  The sea was only inches below deck levcel--the effect of the two main compartments being flooded.    Our speed as we proceeded back toward Adak was reduced to a maximum of about 12 knots and due to only one engine  we  could maneuver only  with considerable difficulty.  One officer and three enlisted men had been killed, and one later died of his injuries.  The stores and galley room just forward of the fire control room was completely  destroyed, leaving us with nothing  but emergency rations for the 5 day trip back to Adak.  This was hard tack and rice.  There was some cold canned meat that the cooks could make into sandwiches, so we didn’t really starve, but it was pretty monotonous eating sandwiches or hard tack meal after meal.

            The forward fire room had flooded due to a hole near the waterline and at the junction of the fire room and the fire control room.  This was the source of the water flooding our compartment.  There was a second and much larger hole nearly 1 foot by 3 feet below the waterline in the forward  engine room.  That compartment flooded rather quickly but there were no injuries and thanks goodness no drownings of personnel in that compartment.  There were two areas on the main deck near amidships where it was obvious 8 inch shells had struck and bounced off, but did not explode.  Either one of those shells, had they exploded, would have undoubtedly sunk the Bailey.  Was God looking after us or what?

            A personal anecdote now, concerning a young enlisted man by the name of Raymond.  He was totally dedicated to his job of taking care of the Captains gig. or his duties in the forward fire room.  A fine sailor,  I liked him and respected him for his dedication to his job.  But his general quarters station was in one of the gun mounts so he was completely unaware of the battle damage until we had secured from general quarters.  Raymond was about to return to his watch station and was about to step over the combing and onto the ladder leading down to the compartment.  As he did so, his foot stepped down into the water and as he then looked down and exclaimed in utter amazement,  “Oh my gosh--my cleaning station!!”.It sounded to the uninformed observer that he didn’t care about his ship’s narrow escape or lost comrades, only about his cleaning station.  Of course, not true at all.  But it was very funny to those of us who witnessed the incident. 
            We limped back to Adak with carefully posted lookouts, expecting at any moment to be picked up by enemy ships.  But none appeared.  At Adak, some of the battle damage was repaired in preparation for the trip back to Dutch Harbor, where more temporary repairs were effected.  And it was on Adak that our shipmates that had been killed were buried.  A sad day indeed.  Meanwhile, both officers and crew were getting to be a pretty smelly bunch as there were no showers, no hot water, and as mentioned earlier, very limited meals.

              At Dutch Harbor, further temporary repairs were effected, other ships invited us aboard for showers and hot meals and  morale soared as we were soon to be on our way back to Mare Island for permanent repairs.  I was both joyous and sad, for some good men had lost their lives while mine had been spared.  But we were alive, headed for home, and in our opinion, had prevented the enemy from achieving their objective which meant a victory for David and a defeat for Goliath.  PTL