In the spring of 1939 I was starting into the second half of my four year tour with the Navy. Rumors of war were circulating. Some guy named Hitler was causing a fuss in Europe by taking over neighboring countries with little or no problem. In the Pacific the island of Japan was expanding by invading China and occupying numerous islands. However, there was not a real sense of urgency surrounding us, at least not at the lower echelons of the rank and file.
It was around this time that the fleet was divided into battle groups: the red and the blue fleet. I suppose the purpose was training as we were to go hide and the other fleet was to try and find us. Bear in mind, this period of time was before the advent of radar, sonar and satelite. Finding us would be a tremendous task. Especially when the Admiral decided to hide in the Atlantic Ocean. He took the fleet through the Panama Canal to the east coast. The transit through the canal was quite an experience for a young kid from Iowa. It took about 9 hours and not wanting to miss anything, I spent all my off duty time topside. What I could see of the country was beautiful. What I could see of the canal and it's locks was remarkable.
Once through the canal, the fleet proceeded to Ponce, Peurto Rico where we got to make a liberty call and what a liberty call it turned out to be. One I will always remember and at the same time, one I would not care to repeat. Puerto Rico at that time simply defies proper description without hurting feelings of the residents and embarassment of those of us still around who pulled liberty there in that era. I remember that it was beautiful and HOT. We were sitting in a cool bar drinking pints of rum, coke, lime and ice for just a dollar. It was a fine time indeed until we got out in that heat which seemed to have turned our brains into mush because nothing on our bodies seemed to work properly. What a job the shore patrol had getting that bunch back to the ship. We were such a mess that running the normal liberty boat wouldn't work. There wasn't one of us that was able to climb the gangway. So, they improvised, being sailors themselves. They spread a cargo net inside a 50' liberty boat and piled us in. When we came along side the ship, the cargo net was hooked to the crane and we were hoisted aboard. Another of the small lessons in life was enbedded in me. NEVER again would I pull liberty where I couldn't walk the gangway under my own power. Being hoisted up inside a cargo net with numerous bodies that were emptying their stomachs........I thought I was going to die!! Then I reached a point where I was afraid that I wouldn't. Ahhhh, the frivolities of youth.
Upon leaving the carribean, the fleet steamed north and we wound up anchored in the Hudson River of New York City. Getting liberty in New York City was a once in a lifetime experience not to be forgotten nor wasted.
While at anchor, the ship was opened to visitors for tours. Remembering how I felt when I first laid eyes on my ship, I could understand the excitement of the hundreds and hundreds of visitors we drew. Each division had to supply tour guides and being the low man on the totem pole, I was "volunteered." I wasn't, shall we say, too tickled with the detail. I remember waiting my turn to be called. I was ( being polite) somewhat aggravated and hoping I wouldn't get in trouble with my obvious lack of enthusiasm. When my turn came, I was standing in front of the three prettiest ladies I had ever laid eyes upon.
Now, I know I had on my game face, looking sharp and professional, but behind that face I probably looked like Wiley Coyote just before he caught beep beep the Road Runner. Introducing myself, I proceeded to give them the $500 tour. Hell, when I was done with my knowledge and over indulgence of charm, they probably thought the Admiral checked with me before he weighed anchor. After about 3 hours, I escorted them back to the gangway. Upon our goodbyes, the pick of the litter said, "You have been so nice to us, how about letting us show you New York?" Naturally and with absolute humility, I accepted their offer. After giving me her phone number and address, they departed. When I got back to the engine room I took the ribbing from my shipmates and played it off as another rotten detail and kept the real story to myself. For a short period of time I was a bit leary to call because on the income of a fireman first I had to pick my dates carefully. Then I thought, hell, this is New York, I'll probably never see it again, so, why not go for broke? I duded up...splashed on the foo-foo juice and off I went.
When I arrived at the address, I was shocked and pleasantly surprised. And little did I know that the ground work had been set for a new legend. At the moment, I just stood there thinking "Damn, I just hit a gold mine." You see, I was standing in front of a woman's boarding house. I checked with the desk and shortly, my lady stepped from the elevator. I had to take a breath as I was in love again. Or so I thought. You see, years later when I was more mature and indeed in love, I realized that when I was young and kept feeling that I was falling in love all those times what was really happening was that I was falling in heat. Big difference between falling in heat and falling in love!
The occupants of the boarding house were secretaries, telephone operators and the like. Never in my life had I seen such a collection of young ladies; especially under one roof. They took me in like a mascot and went above and beyond to entertain me. Sometimes to the point of embarassing this dumb young sailor. As luck would have it, my ship had scheduled a ship dance at the Waldorf Hotel at the roof garden. I asked my lady friend if she would like to go and she was absolutely delighted which of course, inflated my ego just a tad. Now, once word spread throughtout the boarding house, amongst the ladies about the dance, I was beseiged with requests to attend. So, being the gentlman that I was, I told them, "Sure. Just show up and sign in as my guest." Little did I know that there were over 200 women staying at the boarding house. Come dance night when my 200 plus dates showed up, I became an instant legend on my ship. ALL my shipmates were trying to figure out how Donahoo managed to meet so many women after being in port for only 2 weeks. Naturally, I spoke right up and told the truth.....( as my granddaughter is fond of saying "NOT" ) Keep 'em guessing I always say.
Our luck seemed to be continuing because it was determined that all the powder for the 14" guns was outdated and had to be replaced. This extended our stay for an additional 2 weeks which happened to be the same time the World's Fair was opening. To back up for a moment, a custom of our day was for the singlemen to stand watch for the brownbaggers ( married men ) while in home port at Long Beach. This meant I was able to cash in on a lot of IOU's so I managed to pull liberty every night that we were in port in New York. So, as a whole, this trip turned out to be one hell of a highlight in my young life. But, all good things eventually come to an end. We were off and steaming back to the west coast. On this trip, my watch ended as we entered the Panama Canal. Not wanting to miss a moment, I slipped on my cut-offs and with no shirt, I climbed on top of the number one turret, where I spent the entire nine hour trip. I absolutely enjoyed every minute. The tropics were beautiful and even breath taking at times. I don't recall ever feeling more at peace with myself all the way to the moment I stood up. That's when my "analitical brain" told me that I had just completed the dumbest stunt of my life. I felt like I had raised my hands to the sky and did pirouettes while someone hosed me down with a flame thrower. Thank God for my cut-offs because my little backside and groin were the only body parts that were spared the most horrendous pain I have ever experienced. I has second degree burns over my entire body except for the cut-offs. The problem I faced was if I went to sick bay it would be considered misconduct and the time in sickbay would be considered dead time which would have to be made up at the end of my hitch. I reported to the engineering officer, who liked me pretty well. He looked out for me pretty well too. There was no way I could stand the heat in the engine room so he assigned me to the motor rooms where it was about 60 degrees cooler. My shipmates provided medical care as best they could. The burns blistered which just intensified the pain. On one occasion, my mates peeled off one whole layer of skin off my back like a sheet due to the blisters. I spent the entire trip back to Long Beach in the motor room which was close to a month before I could return to regular duty.
Now it is time for another sidebar story, but I promise not to be to long winded on this one. I can't speak for the Army or Marines but I have to assume they suffered the same phenomenon that the Navy did. The phenomenon I am referring to was the love/hate relationship that existed between the Navy and the Civilian population. I cannot tell you how many places such as Long Beach, Norfolk and Virginia Beach to name a few, where I saw hundreds of posted signs which read : "NO DOGS OR SAILORS ALLOWED ON THE GRASS." It seemed to me that they loved our money but didn't care too much for us. In fact, on one occasion, our fleet admiral got so infuriated with the way his men were being treated, he ordered the fleet to weigh anchor and we sailed to San Francisco. We spent some time there until the "power to be " brought enough pressure to bear that the admiral was ordered to return to Long Beach. It seems our absence put a seizable dent in the economy. Well, the admiral wasn't happy about it, but, orders were orders. So, back to Long Beach we went. When we got back, I'm not sure but I believe the admiral wanted to send a message to the civilian population because he ordered the entire fleet to be paid in cash with $2.00 bills. It was quite a joke for us and I guess the civilians took it in stride because now all the signs read...."WELCOME BACK U.S. NAVY."
From early 1940 to early fall, we made several trips to Pearl Harbor and back until some "brain" decided to transfer the fleet to Pearl permanently. So, off we went again and upon our arrival we were moored inboard to some pilings which was referred to as BATTLESHIP ROW". We had to shuttle from ship to shore in small launches. We started making regular trips to sea for training: gunnery practice tec. and return to our mooring.
As it was close to the end of my hitch, I had decided to get out of the Navy and get on with my life. As you may have figured out that at the time, even with the moving of the fleet and the sudden increase of training, the members of the rank and file didn't feel the sense of urgency that the command staff had, nor did we know of the distinct possibility that we would be at war with Japan in a matter of months. If I had any such idea, I never would have gotten out of the Navy.In May of '41, I left the old gal (my ship) for the last time. To my surprise, it was an extremely emotional event for me. For someone that rarely shows his emotions, anyone aboard the launch that day could see how much I was hurting. It was like I was walking away from the love of my life and I didn't understand WHY I was doing it. It was indeed an emotional and confusing moment, so I looked to the future with a strong sense of curiousity.
I was placed aboard a ship bound for the States. I was paid off and released from the Navy. Little did I dream that in less than 8 months my ship would take a beating when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor on the day of infamy:
December 7, 1941.
BAR ROOM BRAWLS
THE BOXER??
THE ENGINE ROOM
UNCLE SAM
THE HOBO YEARS PART 1
THE HOBO YEARS PART 2
THE BEGINNING
THE EARLY YEARS
HOMEPAGE...so you can sign the "GuestBook"
© 1997 ervd@hotmail.com
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