Atkins, George Albert (Bert)
A lasting vision Bert Atkins has of his time in combat during World War II is that of USS Chicago, a navy heavy cruiser, being torpedoed during the Battle of Rennel Island and sinking on January 30, 1943, with a loss of 6 officers and 56 enlisted men. Atkins had often admired USS Chicago; it had been commissioned in 1931 but was still one of the most beautiful ships in the fleet. Five torpedoes from Japanese planes sank her.
George Albert Atkins was born in Vermont, but his family moved and he lived his early years in Sewanee, Tennessee. Atkins’ father was chaplain at the hospital associated with University of the South. After high school, Atkins attended University of the South, graduating in 1941 with a major in philosophy. He felt led to be an Episcopal priest and considered attending seminary. Atkins was aware of events in Europe and felt he would be in war eventually. A career as an Episcopal priest would give him a deferment from military service but he decided to be available for military service as one brother was already in the Navy and another in the Army.
As the end of summer 1941 approached, he went to be with his family in Richmond VA where they had moved in 1938. His father encouraged Atkins to go into the ministry but Atkins enlisted in the US Navy on September 25, 1941, in the V-7 program, which prepared men to be Naval officers. Atkins said, “I liked a good bed instead of mud holes and wanted to eat three square meals a day.” On December 7, 1941, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. Atkins heard news of the attack over the radio, and he was concerned about the possibility of further attacks and how the events would affect him.
Atkins was called to active service in January 1942 and assigned to the USS Prairie State. This was the old battleship USS Illinois tied up to a pier on the Hudson River in New York City. The Navy had taken USS Illinois’ superstructure off and built a barn like building on the main deck. The building was large enough to handle 500 trainees. The goal was to provide 4 years of Navy deck officer training in 3 months. At the conclusion of training, Atkins felt ready for his duty aboard ship. He graduated in April 1942 and was assigned to Navy Torpedo School, Newport RI. Atkins graduated from Torpedo school in July 1942. The final exam was to take all the individual parts of a torpedo and put them together to make a functioning torpedo. At that time, the Navy was having many problems with torpedoes because they would not detonate upon hitting a target. Fortunately, this problem was largely solved by the time Atkins arrived in the South Pacific several months later.
After torpedo school, Atkins was ordered to Bath ME to assist in building the USS Conway, DD 507. The ship had just the keel laid so he was not as busy as he would later be. Atkins had met his wife to be, Grace, at a church event a few years earlier, fell in love and they were engaged to be married. Atkins felt comfortable asking his Commanding Officer for 10 days leave and he and Grace were married July 28 1942 by Atkins’ father.
Atkins’ responsibilities were to organize the ship’s records with all official Navy publications as well as working with anti-submarine sonar, depth charge and gunnery operations. He also learned typical submarine operational tactics to aid in using depth charges effectively. Conway was launched on August 26 1942.
Final additions to Conway’s armament and other key equipment were put on at Boston Navy Yard. Conway was commissioned December 9, 1942, and ready for action. Atkins was assigned official duties as chaplain, torpedo, depth charge, smoke generator, assistant commissary, coding, censor, welfare and assistant gunnery officer. The first captain of USS Conway was a true leader. Atkins said, “The men loved his style of leadership and would follow him anywhere.”
A two-week shakedown cruise to check on operating efficiency of USS Conway was done off the coast of Portland ME. The weather during the cruise was freezing. Atkins duty station while on watch was the gun control tower, the coldest and most exposed place on the ship. One had to be very careful or heavy seas, wind, rain and ice could cause loss of life due to falling overboard. Conway had a complement of 16 officers and 300 enlisted men. Atkins’ lodging aboard ship was a small stateroom he shared with another officer consisting of bunk beds, small clothing lockers, small safes and a tiny desk.
After shakedown, Conway went to Norfolk VA to help form Task Force 68. This force included heavy cruisers, USS Chicago and USS Cleveland, three small aircraft carriers and five destroyers. By December 5, 1942, Task Force 68 was ready for war. Task Force 68 zigzagged across the Pacific on the lookout for submarines. It crossed the International Date Line and the equator without the usual celebration: no time for that. Eight hours a day were spent on watch with additional time spent on training. Conway had eight torpedo tubes all loaded with torpedoes and eight more torpedoes in reserve below deck. A smoke generator was aft and when in operation with its powerful blowers, could obscure a whole fleet of ships.
Atkins oversaw scores of depth charges aboard, which were engineered to roll off the deck when needed and explode at a predetermined depth. Smaller depth charges were designed to be launched in the air in a wide pattern. The powerful depth charges could split the seams on a submarine due to the transmission of great underwater force to the submarine hull.
Conway was headed for the Solomon Islands to be involved in a series of battles initially ranging from New Caledonia, New Hebrides and Guadalcanal. On January 29, 1943, Conway experienced its first air attack shooting down two enemy planes and barely escaping being hit by Japanese bombs. During the attack, Atkins dove for the pyrotechnic box, which was not a good choice, and bumped heads with the Chief Signalman who also dove for the box for protection. USS Chicago was hit by four torpedoes and the next day was sunk when hit by one more torpedo. Conway picked up members of the crew and took them to safety.
In all the activity in the island-hopping campaign, Conway’s job was to soften up the beaches for landing and lead and protect the troops as they went ashore. Conway went on to Vella Lavella looking for Japanese ships and on to Bougainville for another landing. Atkins was qualified as an Officer Of the Deck by this time. He was responsible for conning the vessel at high speed and missing coral reefs on the way in for landings. The navigators used old National Geographic maps, the only ones available and they were not too accurate. navigation equipment. Conway was getting old and worn out.
Refitting finished, Conway returned to the Pacific and went on to the Philippines where she encountered the first of many kamikaze suicide planes. New proximity fuses using radio transmissions for the 5-inch gun ammunition, allowed better results in defending against the kamikazes. Deadly results would be obtained with near misses on a target using the new fuses.
When Iwo Jima and Okinawa were attacked, Conway stayed in the Philippines and Atkins saw operational plans for Conway to take part in the invasion of Japan should that invasion be necessary. While the Okinawa battle was raging, Atkins got orders to return home. He took a tanker back to Panama and an old Liberty ship to New York. He called Grace to meet him in Philadelphia, and they had a great reunion. He had 30 days leave before reporting to Naval Training Station, Miami FL as an instructor. On the way, Victory over Japan (VJ Day) was declared. After a brief time in Miami, Atkins was released from active duty, exactly four years to the day from entering service, and he returned to civilian life.
After a few years of teaching, he bought a Firestone retail store. He sold that business after a few years and took a position at North Carolina Finishing Co. that was later bought out by Fieldcrest. This ultimately brought him to Eden. Atkins retired in 1985 from his position as Insurance and Risk Manager for Fieldcrest. Atkins and his wife Grace have been very active in the community and are now focusing on enjoying their grandchildren and just doing what they like to do. Atkins says, “There is nothing like combat, but seeing it makes one never to want to see it again. It is a horrible way to settle disputes, but we need to be prepared for it.”
Atkins and his wife Grace have a son, two daughters and four granddaughters.
Czelusniak, Paul A.
Paul Czelusniak’s submarine USS Billfish was trapped on the bottom of the Yellow Sea. An aggressive Japanese destroyer was firing depth charges, which exploded all around Billfish. The crew was quiet and tense. Softly, over the loudspeaker Captain Farley, the commanding officer, read a passage from Holy Scripture as the submarine settled to the bottom – then silence. Most crew members were on their knees praying, fully expecting the next explosion to put them in a watery grave. Miraculously, the destroyer lost contact, saving the lives of the Billfish crew. “It was way too close for comfort”, says Paul Czelusniak.
Czelusniak was born in Nanticoke PA, one of eight children. In Nanticoke, his father relied heavily on coalminer business in his automobile garage, but the unions had virtually shut down the mines in the late 30’s. Czelusniak’s father was unable to survive financially, so he moved his family to Amsterdam NY, getting work at the Mohawk Rug Mill in Auburn NY. Paul quit school after the 11th grade to help support the family and worked in a cotton mill for a time, then Mohawk Rug Co. and finally at the Army Supply Depot near Amsterdam.
Czelusniak remembers well when Pearl Harbor was attacked, having heard the news over the radio while sitting in his living room. He immediately went down to enlist but his parents did not grant permission. When he approached 18 years of age, he told his parents he did not want to be drafted into the Army, so he asked, and received, his parents’ approval to join the Navy. A heart murmur found during his physical prevented his entry into the Navy. When he registered for the draft, Czelusniak fully expected to be rejected because of the heart murmur. During the examination for induction, no murmur was found. Czelusniak was bound for the Army until he happened to see a Navy recruiter who allowed him to join before his official induction into the Army. A heart murmur was not detected in the Navy physical.
Boot camp followed at Sampson NY in December 1943. Because of his carpentry experience in High School, he was assigned work to build a large wooden cabinet, among other items, for use by one of the senior petty officers. Consequently, he missed four out of eight weeks of boot camp while working on carpentry projects.
His aptitude tests indicated he would make a good Torpedoman, so he was sent to Newport RI to an eight-week Torpedoman school. He learned all aspects of the Mark 14 and Mark 15 torpedoes, which were the mainstays of the submarine fleet. The Mark 14 and 15 Torpedoes are 21 inches in diameter; about 20-1/2 feet long and weigh well over 3,000 pounds. They carried about 600 pounds of a special high explosive called Torpex. The torpedoes ran on steam generated in a combustion chamber within the torpedo. A trip lever in the torpedo tube as it is launched starts the whole process working to activate the combustion and steam. The torpedoes were beautifully made of polished stainless steel built to withstand 3,000 lbs per square inch pressure.
A Torpedoman, when firing a torpedo, opens the inner doors of the torpedo tube and using winches, inserts the torpedo in the tube. Information on the target ship’s speed, range, and bearing from conning tower observations is put into the Torpedo Data Computer built into the torpedo. The outer doors are opened and upon receiving orders from the conning tower, the torpedo is fired, using compressed air to blow it out of the tube. The work of a Torpedoman was one of many jobs critical to the survival of a submarine during combat.
Czelusniak then volunteered for submarine school in New London CT where he was immersed in all aspects of submarine operations. Aboard a submarine, a crewmember could be caught in any area of a submarine during battle as watertight doors are closed during combat. If you were in a particular space, you had to know what to do in that space – your life depended on it. When a submarine crewmember was thoroughly trained, he would receive his “dolphin” insignia indicating he was part of the elite undersea force – a SUBMARINER.
Czelusniak was also trained in the use of the “Momsen lung” a breathing device which allowed submariners to escape from a sunken submarine. During the training on the Momsen lung, the psychological fear of water at great depth was enough to “wash out” many of the aspirants for submarine service. Czelusniak’s fear was not of the water but only of failing to attain his goal of being a submariner. During a pressure test, he was put in a small airtight chamber, and the air pressure was increased every few seconds until he thought his eardrums would burst. He had to swallow often to equalize the pressure. It grew very hot in the chamber, and he perspired profusely so that his Navy jeans were stuck to his skin. His skin was blue from the dye in his pants. He passed the pressure test!
His only dive in a submarine at New London was in an old WW I submarine that leaked. As the boat went down a heavy stream of water came from a fitting, and the students were frightened. The grizzled chief petty officer told the students that the leak would “seal” as they went deeper. No one believed him at the time, but it did. Another psychological test!
Czelusniak was then assigned to San Diego to be trained in electric torpedoes. The steam torpedo looked like an elegant piece of machinery with all the polished stainless steel while, Czelusniak said, the electric torpedo “looked like a large old, weathered tin can”. Seventy-two battery cells drove it. The electric torpedoes were simpler and were coated with Cosmoline, like heavy Vaseline, to avoid rust. Their cost was small compared to the stainless-steel torpedoes, but they were effective.
After the voyage to Pearl Harbor, he was assigned to USS Billfish. He was a second-class seaman at the time. The captain had to approve all new crewmembers and said, “we only have first class seaman or above on this vessel, so I am promoting you immediately to 1st class seaman.”
Due to the heat aboard the submarine Czelusniak typically only wore cut off Navy jeans, a tee shirt, and special noiseless sandals. The decks of Billfish were also padded to eliminate noise. Typically, Czelusniak had four hours on duty and eight off, around the clock. When off duty he was either sleeping or working on something related to his job. He had limited time for personal things.
Czelusniak’s bunk was in the “bridal suite” as it was called, located in the forward torpedo room, the best bunk on the submarine for an enlisted man. He did not have to alternate use of his bunk with anyone else while all the other sailors had to alternate use of a bunk. There were no sheets, and he slept with his clothes on. When fresh water was available, he could shower and wash his clothes. His gear locker was the size of a normal suitcase. He only had his work uniform aboard the submarine with a couple changes of underwear as well as the standard foul weather gear. His dress blues and any dress outerwear were stored at Pearl Harbor.
On the eighth war patrol, USS Billfish sunk one Japanese cargo vessel and experienced the depth charge attack mentioned earlier. While on the surface on August 6, 1945, a lookout saw the flash of the atomic bomb explosion. The Billfish crew did not learn the war was over because they could not break radio silence. After the Billfish crew learned the war was over, the worst part of the return to Pearl Harbor was going through a minefield aware that a mine could sink the vessel “after the war was over”. Czelusniak heard some mine cables scraping the side of Billfish, which was very unnerving.
After short stays at Eniwetok and Pearl Harbor, the Billfish was going home via the Panama Canal to Houston TX for the first Navy Day celebration and on to Staten Island NY. Czelusniak was released from active duty at Long Island NY. It was Christmas Eve 1945 and Czelusniak took the train to Amsterdam and surprised his parents who came home from catholic mass to find him sleeping on the couch.
Czelusniak returned to the Army Depot for a while and then worked for Mohawk Rug Co. He was offered a job with Karastan Rug Mill in Auburn NY and then transferred to Eden NC. He retired as a Creative Product Specialist with twelve patents regarding rug and carpet manufacturing to his name.
He is married to the former Betty Ingalls and has five children scattered across the country. He is very proud that his two sons and grandson have served in the military. Paul Jr. served on nuclear submarines during the cold war. His son Vernon served 21 years in the Coast Guard, earning a PHD degree after his time in service. His grandson is a pilot with the US Coast Guard.
Czelusniak is proud to have served his country on USS Billfish with such a great group of fighting men.
Fleishman, Alvin T.
December 7th, 1941, Alvin Fleishman was visiting with a girlfriend who attended Madison College in Harrisonburg VA. They were listening to a concert on the radio when there was an interruption announcing the surprise attack on Pearl Harbor. Fleishman left immediately to get back to Washington and Lee University to check on the Navy commission he had applied for earlier. On his return, he drove through Richmond VA, and he recalls it was a “scary evening” because all the streetlights were out and there were sentries on the bridges around Richmond checking on the cars. He did not know it yet but there were much worse evenings in store for him in the South Pacific.
Fleishman’s father worked for the B. Fleishman Store in Anderson SC owned by his uncle. As a boy, Alvin Fleishman worked part time at the store. He was a very good student, graduating from Boy’s High School in Anderson as valedictorian in 1937. That was sufficient to obtain a scholarship to Washington and Lee University, Lexington VA where he took accounting and was involved in many extracurricular activities, including editor of the school newspaper. Fleishman also graduated as valedictorian of his class at Washington and Lee.
After graduating from W&L in 1941, Fleishman worked for a time in Richmond VA at Thalhimer Dept Stores. After the Pearl Harbor attack, he remarked, “Working at Thalhimer’s during Christmas season 1941 was full of both joy and despair.” On January 2, 1942, Fleishman went to Norfolk to check on the Navy commission for which he had applied. He received his commission March 1 and was called to active duty May 1, 1942.
Fleishman’s first duty station was Norfolk Navy Yard as an assistant supply officer because of his business training. He said, “If there was a dirty job to do I had to do it.” Frequently he oversaw the huge supply department on the midnight to 8 am watch. One night, an Ensign Lafarge from the cargo ship USS Titania came to him and said he desperately needed some supplies, as his ship was leaving port soon. Fleishman went out of his way to help Ensign Lafarge with his needs. This favor was paid back in late December 1942, when Fleishman was in desperate need of some supplies for USS Lardner and called on the cargo ship Titania for help. Ensign Lafarge returned the favor.
In mid-1942, Fleishman was assigned to Navy Supply Corps School at Harvard University to learn to be a professional navy supply officer. In September 1942, he received orders to report to the destroyer USS Lardner. It was “somewhere” in the South Pacific. Upon arrival at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, he saw the most depressing, indelible sights. Fleishman remarked, “Ships were capsized, lying in the mud. The USS Arizona was underwater with 1177 dead men aboard. Many ships were badly damaged at their docks. Hickam Field was shot up and there were holes in just about everything. It was a confusing and distressing time.”
Fleishman boarded the battleship USS South Dakota and remained for two months en route to New Caledonia to report to USS Lardner. While on USS South Dakota, he was assigned the job of gun spotter. That required going up the highest mast of the ship with a pair of binoculars to report where shells landed. It was frightening and literally made Fleishman sick to climb up there. He recalls, “I saw the battleship fire broadsides with nine 16-inch guns going off at the same time, each firing a projectile weighing 2300 pounds. The sky turned orange for about 30 seconds, and the ship moved about 100 feet from the recoil.”
On December 2, 1942, Fleishman finally boarded USS Lardner at Espiritu Santo in the New Hebrides Islands. After boarding her, USS Lardner went to Guadalcanal and on up the chain of islands to New Georgia, Munda, Vela Lavella, and Kolombangara and finally, Bougainville. USS Lardner was in action near all the islands. The area between the islands was called “the slot” where major sea battles took place. The Japanese ships came down to attack almost every night. The volunteer Australian coast watchers stationed on the islands alerted our naval forces of what the Japanese were doing so we were prepared to meet them.
There were two cruisers, USS Minneapolis and USS Pensacola, that were badly damaged by Japanese action and USS Lardner was assigned to escort them back for repair. Japanese submarines attacked and USS Lardner got credit for sinking one of them. USS Lardner was also responsible for keeping planes from attacking landing craft while they landed men on the islands. There also were small Japanese boats like our patrol torpedo boats harassing our landing craft. USS Lardner had to keep them away so landings could be completed.
Fleishman said, “We went through hell in the first six months of 1943 but in July 1943, we were assigned to escort the aircraft carrier USS Enterprise to Bremerton WA for refit after battle damage.” There were five battle-scarred destroyers accompanying USS Enterprise as it went into San Francisco harbor. There were fireboats with water streaming from their hoses along with horns blowing, bands playing, and applause. The people were celebrating the return of our valiant warships. Fleishman says, “It gives me goose bumps today thinking about that huge celebration.”
USS Lardner went back to help secure the last of the islands in the chain, Bougainville, in November 1943. USS Lardner anchored in the idyllic setting of Empress Augusta Bay. It was a beautiful beach with white sand and blue water and 35,000 fanatical Japanese troops waiting to attack our forces. In the background was a volcano that glowed red at night – a perfect backdrop for the bloody battle ahead. The first and second Marine divisions landed with heavy casualties. Fleishman said, “It was nasty” but US forces eventually won. USS Lardner was in heavy action fighting off enemy planes while escorting amphibious crafts in for the landings.
The commander of USS Lardner’s destroyer division and one of the heroes of WW II was Commander Arleigh Burke, later to become Admiral and Chief of Naval Operations under President Eisenhower. He gained his nickname “31 knot Burke” while USS Lardner was under his command. He always had his destroyers going fast, attacking the enemy, just under the speed where they might burst their boilers.
Around Thanksgiving 1943, USS Lardner was assigned to rescue some Marines who were being slaughtered by the Japanese on Bougainville. Two ships stood off a way while USS Lardner went near shore to rescue the Marines. The Marines got to the ship in whatever manner they could. Most had been wounded and many died trying to get to USS Lardner. In all about 600 men were rescued, 300 aboard USS Lardner and 300 aboard another destroyer. Japanese boats were attacking, and it was a harrowing run back to safety. It was very frightening for wounded Marines who had just been rescued and thought they were about to be killed aboard USS Lardner.
In November, Fleishman received detachment orders to return to the US. It took a lot of effort to get his captain to sign them, as the captain did not want Fleishman to leave the ship. The captain said, “You are the best Supply Officer I ever had.” Finally, the captain signed the orders, giving Fleishman a handshake and a hug. After many months in the South Pacific under battle conditions, Fleishman finally arrived at home to see his excited parents. The Navy sent Fleishman on to Harvard Business School, as he was selected to be in the Naval Contract Termination Unit. That unit was created to pay government contractors and help them get back to civilian production as final war production needs were met. Fleishman did this as the war wound down and for four months after the war ended.
In 1946, Fleishman married Florence Gates, a WAVE (female navy person) whom he had met while in the Navy. She died in 1992. They had three daughters and a son, Dr. Henry A. Fleishman, a surgeon in Eden NC. Alvin Fleishman never officially retired but continued to work in the family business – Fleishman Department Stores until 1989 and then taught accounting and personnel management at Tri County Technical School, Pendleton SC until his health would not permit his continuing to teach. Alvin Fleishman loved the US Navy and continued after the war in the Navy Reserve for 26 years, attaining the rank of Lieutenant Commander.
Groseclose William Preston
On joining the service: I did not want to be left out of action.
On the Navy food: I was lucky, I loved beans, and we had plenty of them.
On “chow” time: We had to eat fast and move out so the next group of sailors could eat.
On time at sea: For one stretch during the Pacific Island campaigns, we went 75 days
without being in port. We were steaming and shelling islands and picking up
pilots.
On his locker: We only had the clothes we were wearing and, in our locker, a set of the
clothes we were going to wear plus shaving gear and a picture of family. Too
little room!
On the heat: We frequently slept on deck for relief from stifling heat below deck.
On his job: I had to help keep the ship functioning electrically. Every hit the ship
took caused an electrical problem of some sort. We slept when we could.
Showers: Occasionally we were able to take freshwater showers. Fresh water was
precious. We could use all the salt water we wanted for showers.
In battle: There were hundreds of planes in the sky! At first, I wanted to watch
everything that was happening, but I had a job to do too.
In the typhoons: The most frightening moments of my life.
Reflecting on his service: I was glad to serve my country.
Bill Groseclose had experienced storms while on the Destroyer USS Brush but nothing to compare to the ferocious typhoon that struck on December 14, 1944. During the storm his ship rolled so violently that Groseclose literally stood on the bulkheads (walls) of his compartment and was concerned that each roll might go past the point of no return and the ship capsize. “The most frightening moments of my life,” says Groseclose. USS Brush was in imminent danger of capsizing, but the skillful handling of her skipper saved the ship and the lives of her crew. This is but one event in a three-year Navy experience that will live in Groseclose’ memory forever.
Groseclose was born in Pulaski Virginia in 1925 and after graduating from high school joined the US Navy in April of 1943 at the age of 17. Several of Groseclose’ friends had already joined, and he did not want to be left out of a shooting war. After enlisting, he was assigned to the University of North Carolina in the V12 program, which essentially was college training for potential officer personnel. Groseclose felt if he stayed in that program, he would not see active duty during the war, so he volunteered to enter Navy boot camp at Bainbridge, Maryland. Boot camp trained him generally for shipboard duty. After further training as an Electrician’s Mate, he reported to another destroyer for duty. However, the USS Brush, in process of being commissioned, needed this skill so he was transferred to the Brush in January 1944, where he stayed until April of 1946.
The Brush was commissioned for active duty with the fleet on April 17, 1944. Prophetically, during the commissioning ceremony, the new captain said “this ship will take you to Tokyo Bay”. After her shake-down cruise, 18-year-old Bill Groseclose went to war in the Pacific on the USS Brush. The Brush participated in every naval strike against Japanese held islands after she reported to Admiral Nimitz’s Pacific fleet command in mid-1944. The primary duties of the Brush were to shell the Japanese held islands during invasions, protect the aircraft carriers, and act as an airplane guard, picking up downed pilots. In many cases, the Brush had the sad experience of picking up pilots, dead in their life rafts.
Groseclose reported several kamikaze planes targeting the Brush, with one crashing just 50 feet away. The gun crew successfully shot down many attackers. Kamikazes heavily damaged and sank major ships; four Brush crewmembers died in Pacific combat.
On December 14, 1944, the first of what became known as “Halsey’s hurricanes” struck and while the Brush survived, three destroyers foundered or capsized, going down with all crewmembers. This was a tragic loss of over 900 men. Another typhoon struck on June 5, 1945, of such intensity that it took the bow off the USS Pittsburgh, a heavy cruiser, and like sardine cans, rolled back the flight decks of some aircraft carriers. The Brush later found the bow of the USS Pittsburgh floating in the water and it was retrieved.
On July 21, 1945, Groseclose participated in one of the most daring raids to take place in World War II. Destroyer Squadron 61 including the Brush, and eight other destroyers were detached from Admiral Halsey’s famous Task Force 38 to conduct anti shipping action against the Japanese inside Tokyo Bay. This was the first and only surface raid during WWII inside Tokyo Bay. The group of nine destroyers steamed behind the aftermath of a raging typhoon and at dusk, near the mouth of Tokyo Bay, began a 31-knot run into the bay. It was 11:30 PM when Brush’s radar showed four Japanese vessels close to shore and heading out to sea. The squadron maneuvered to attack, closing to 2500 yards. At midnight, the Brush fired two torpedoes, and the other ships fired two torpedoes. There were 18 torpedoes streaking toward the Japanese vessels. The Japanese had been under air attack earlier in the evening so when the torpedoes struck, the Japanese began firing their anti-aircraft guns at what they thought could only be aircraft. It did not occur to the Japanese defenders that The US Navy would be so audacious as to make a naval surface strike at the very doorstep of Japan. Two cargo ships were sunk, one heavily damaged and one patrol vessel badly damaged. There was no damage to the destroyers. The attack over, the destroyers made a high-speed run back to Task Force 38.
The Brush later returned to Tokyo Bay on September 14 after the signing of the official surrender documents on September 2. After an additional eight months on Brush, Groseclose was discharged and returned home and continued his education under the G.I. GI Bill, graduating from Hampden Sydney College. His career was in retailing and was, for many years, the manager of the Fieldcrest Mills Retail stores. Groseclose and his wife Ellen have three daughters and three grandchildren. He says his time in the Navy was well spent during a very historic and defining period in the 20th century. As expressed by so many other WWII veterans, Groseclose says he was proud to have served his country in her time of need.
Harris, Robert A.
In His Own Words:
Comment on first antisubmarine patrol off Key West: If we found a submarine, we were ordered to ram and sink it. This action would cause our ship to sink too.
On minesweeper duty: Typically, no ship goes in front of a minesweeper. We were very expendable.
On duty aboard a minesweeper: We were brown as berries. We didn’t wear shirts or ties. It was hard to tell an officer from an enlisted man.
On leading Marines to their landings at Iwo Jima: Our orders were to get them onto the beach at any cost.
On losses during the landing at Iwo Jima: Twelve landing craft following us were blown out of the water. All killed.
On food: I made sure my crew ate as well or better than any aircraft carrier or battleship crew. I was well overspent on food provisions but was never criticized for it! It kept the crew happy.
On the Atomic bomb: It saved my life. We didn’t have to invade Japan, with the projected loss or wounding of a million men in the invasion, not to mention the loss of Japanese lives.
The battle for Iwo Jima which began in February 1945 was one of the bloodiest fights in the South Pacific. Bob Harris was there on a minesweeper three days before the invasion, sweeping mines from the waters surrounding the island. During, and for ten days after the invasion, his ship acted as a guide ship for the Marines who were going into the beaches on landing craft.
This was a far distance from his birthplace in Arcola, NC on August 9, 1918. Harris attended schools in Warrenton and went on to what was then Campbell Junior college and then to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill for an accounting degree which was awarded to him in 1939. After a stint with US Steel in Birmingham, Alabama as a trainee, he volunteered for Officer Candidate School in the Navy rather than be drafted. Harris chose the Navy over the Army because he did not like to “hike” that much. After induction, he took a troop train to Notre Dame University where he began his training in basic military courses. Then, on to Columbia University in New York City for intensive training in gunnery, seamanship and shipboard engineering. Although Harris was an accounting major in college he came out with top grades in his class in engineering.
After graduation, he was transferred to St. Petersburg, Florida to set up a ship identification program for the Navy. From there he was transferred to Key West, Florida to the USS Mystic, patrolling the waters between Key West and Cuba looking for submarines. If a submarine were discovered, their orders were to ram and sink it, which would sink the USS Mystic as well.
While in Key West, Harris took a course on anti-submarine warfare and one of his friends and classmates was the well-known pianist, Eddie Duchin. He also spent time on old WWI submarines learning submarine tactics to help understand the evasive maneuvers of submarines.
In early 1943 he went to Beaumont, Texas to help commission a minesweeper, USS Pioneer. This ship was 230 feet long with a beam of 32 feet and a crew of 100 men. As with any ship being commissioned there was a long list of items to be accomplished to make it ready for duty.
After commissioning in mid-1943, the Pioneer was assigned to convoy duty in the Atlantic. The submarine menace was still strong at that time, and convoys would travel at night with lights out. This made the trip across the Atlantic precarious due to the possibility of collision with other ships during the night. The Pioneer was on the outer perimeter as interference for the main body of 100 or more ships making the crossing with men and material to fight the war. On the first trip across, the convoy had to turn and go well below the equator to avoid submarines. The convoy’s best defense was to outrun the submarines if they were sighted. Harris points out that minesweepers are responsible for finding and destroying mines, whether contact, magnetic, electric or acoustic. Finding contact mines was done by using paravanes attached to a long cable going out from one side of the minesweeper which would cut the mines loose from the cables holding them in place. Machine gun fire exploded them when they came to the surface.
In many cases, a minesweeper would go at maximum speed and the bow wake would push contact mines out of the way so gunners could explode them. The minesweeper also had an electric hammer making a loud banging noise which set off acoustic mines. A diesel electric generator on the minesweeper created a high voltage current in the water to set off electric and magnetic mines.
The ship Harris later commanded was wooden so it had a very low magnetic field which was not enough to set off magnetic mines. Magnetic mines were typically not used in shallower waters where the ship Harris later commanded would sweep mines.
After more training in mine warfare and anti-submarine tactics, Harris was transferred to Orange, Texas where the ship he was to command was being built. It was 136 feet long with a 25-foot beam and a crew of 32 men, including four officers. It had a 3-inch gun, several 30 caliber machine guns and a supply of 12 depth charges as well as paravanes for minesweeping. It had twin diesel engines and an identical diesel for generating electric impulses to set off electric and acoustic mines.
Harris took command in spring of 1944 and immediately went to sweep Boston harbor as well as around the Cape Cod area. About that time there was a huge storm on the East coast and a minesweeper on the way to the Pacific sunk off Cape Hatteras. Harris’ minesweeper was sent to replace it, leaving Boston in the fall of 1944. He went through the Panama Canal and on to Honolulu with a convoy. In December, he sailed with the largest convoy he had ever seen to Iwo Jima. The orders were sealed so no one knew where they were going until miles out to sea. On the way, the ship stopped at Eniwetok and Saipan to get fully outfitted.
Frequently the crew would listen to propagandist Tokyo Rose who was well informed as to ship movements. The crew enjoyed her music although she seemed to know too much for comfort.
The ship left Saipan and arrived at Iwo Jima on D Day minus three. There were about 600 ships in the water off Iwo Jima including USS North Carolina, other battleships and aircraft carriers. Harris’ job was to sweep mines in front of the landing beaches as well as around the island. Later, Harris’ ship was responsible, along with other small ships, to guide landing craft to the beach. His orders where to proceed and lead the landing craft to the beach “at all costs”.
Fortunately, Harris’ ship was not hit by enemy fire as the Japanese stopped firing so as not to reveal their positions and allow big guns of the USS North Carolina and other ships to destroy them. On one run to shore however 12 landing craft behind Harris were blown out of the water with all hands killed.
Harris could see the big shells from the USS North Carolina pass overhead with their deadly “swoosh” sound and explode on Mount Suribachi. The noise was deafening.
There were many kamikaze planes crashing into the Naval vessels, but they were after the big ships not Harris’ minesweeper. The biggest danger was crossfire. When the large ships fired at the kamikazes, they lowered the guns to sea level and took no notice of other ships that might be in the line of fire. Fortunately, Harris’ ship was not hit. After Iwo Jima, Harris’ ship went to the Philippines, Guam and Saipan in preparation for the invasion of Japan and awaiting further assignment. About then, victory was declared over Japan and Harris went to the Sasebo, Japan harbor to sweep mines so vessels could safely get into the harbor. While tied up to the pier in the Sasebo, Japan harbor during a hurricane, the lines holding Harris’ ship to the pier broke. Another ship with an admiral aboard contacted Harris’ ship with the message ” stay clear, we are having problems,” Harris replied, “what do you think we are having?” No further response was heard from the admiral.
Harris would have been released from active duty in August of 1945, but it took his relief almost three months to catch up to Harris’ ship due to a hectic sailing itinerary after hostilities ceased.
Harris was released from active duty on 12/1/1945 and after turning down US Steel’s reemployment offer, moved to Eden and had a very productive career with Fieldcrest Mills as well as being involved in major civic activities, retiring as Executive Vice President of Fieldcrest in 1977.
Hundley, H. Grey
Grey Hundley says “In 1940, it was a big world out there for me. I had never seen the ocean. I had hardly been out of Draper, NC and needed a steady job.” Hundley joined the US Navy in 1940 for 6 years and started an odyssey that took him halfway around the world. His service involved him in historic combat operations that changed the course of World War II in the Pacific theater.
From Hundley’s birthplace in Schoolfield VA, Hundley’s father took work in Leaksville, NC, during the depression. The family lived in the country in a log cabin constructed by Hundley’s father. Later the family moved to town on Boat Landing Rd. After Hundley’s father died in 1939, family finances were limited so Hundley had to find steady work. There being very limited employment opportunities locally, joining the US Navy appeared to be a way to get a steady job as well as good training that would help him after a return to civilian life. His brother, who was in the Army, said the Navy was a good option as your bed was always with you on ship and you did not have to sleep on the ground.
After joining the Navy in June 1940, Hundley was assigned to Norfolk, VA for basic training. After 12 weeks of marching, classroom instruction and calisthenics he was graduated from basic training and sent by crowded troop train to Long Beach CA for assignment to the battleship USS New Mexico. It was commanded by none other than Captain Chester Nimitz, later to be the Commander in Chief of the Pacific Fleet during World War II. Due to Hundley’s strength and physical condition, he was assigned as “first loader” on the 14-inch main battery on USS New Mexico. This required lifting 100-pound shells and putting them in the gun before firing. This job did not last long as there was an opening for ship’s bugler and having been a bugler for certain military events in Leaksville, his experience allowed him to get the assignment. Being bugler required Hundley to be able to play 136 different bugle calls, such as calls to go to battle stations, to prepare for torpedo defense, to prepare for air defense, a call for mealtime and, of course, reveille and taps. He did this by blowing the bugle call into the ship’s main microphone with the call sounding throughout the vessel. Because of the assignment as bugler, his station was on the ship’s bridge and was a great vantage point to see what was going on during ship operations.
USS New Mexico was sent to the Pacific and stationed at Pearl Harbor with her berth being the one USS Arizona was berthed in when Pearl Harbor was attacked. Had New Mexico been there on December 7th, Hundley wonders if she would be the ship at the present Pearl Harbor memorial site instead of USS Arizona.
In May 1941, New Mexico was sent back to the Atlantic on convoy duty, seven months before war was declared and on occasion, as he was stationed near the ship’s bridge, Hundley was in position to observe anti- submarine activity by our ships. During one convoy he participated in, seven German submarines were sunk. Sometimes the excitement ran so high, Hundley says his bugle calls during anti-submarine operations were recognizable but a little “uncertain.”
After Atlantic convoy duty, USS New Mexico was sent to Reykjavik, Iceland on more anti-submarine duty for a time. When Pearl Harbor was attacked on December 7th, New Mexico was in Portland, Maine and he heard the news over the ship’s loudspeaker. Hundley still does not understand how the Japanese made a successful sneak attack on Pearl Harbor considering the daily air patrols. As the New Mexico was an old battleship launched in 1917, she was sent to Norfolk, VA to be fitted with 20 mm. and 40 mm. anti-aircraft guns to improve air defense capabilities. After a brief stint as a training vessel for new recruits,
New Mexico was sent back to Pearl Harbor and the sight that greeted Hundley’s eyes was most disturbing. Many ships were still underwater with repair efforts going on and Hundley says “the Pearl Harbor base was still a mess” after the attack. On USS New Mexico, Hundley participated in the start of the island-hopping campaigns to retake the Pacific islands the Japanese had conquered, beginning with the island of Guadalcanal. During one battle near the island of Tarawa, battle stations were called and a torpedo headed for USS New Mexico missed and sunk a small aircraft carrier. When the torpedo struck the aircraft carrier, Hundley was drinking a cup of coffee, and it was knocked out of his hand and Hundley was thrown to the deck from the concussion. Two hundred men from the carrier were rescued by Hundley’s ship.
About this time in 1942, Hundley was promoted to the damage control department of USS New Mexico. His bugling days were over. This job consisted of maintaining the integrity of the vessel by containing damage or fires due to torpedo attacks, aircraft, etc. After his promotion and his position as leader of 12 men in his damage control section, he got the nickname of “Radar.” Hundley always seemed to know the location of any men that were “goofing off.” He did not tell them he knew because he had been there too, before his promotion.
It was difficult to transfer from New Mexico after his years aboard her but he was transferred for a short time to the military police unit guarding the WAVE (female Navy personnel) barracks in San Francisco. For many reasons, this was one of Hundley’s most interesting tours of duty.
In late 1943, Hundley was transferred to the newly built USS Guam, a Battle Cruiser, one of two built during the war. On one of Guam’s shakedown cruises Hundley came up with an idea which reduced the time it took to empty the fuel tank at the end of the day from the catapult float aircraft assigned to Guam. He was promoted from 2 nd Class Ship Fitter to 1st Class Ship Fitter immediately when his Chief Petty Officer learned of the improved procedure.
Hundley was on USS Guam when she was assigned to the Pacific to engage in more island-hopping campaigns. Guam was involved in heavy combat for months on end. In all, he earned seven battle stars for action in the Pacific. He endured Kamikaze (suicide) air strikes and torpedo attacks against his ship and in one period, went 60 days without seeing land. One of the most frightening events happened when a torpedo struck USS Guam right in line with Hundley below deck. He heard the clunk, and it did not go off. It was a “dud.” It dented the ship and had it exploded it would have taken Hundley’s life. Looking back, Hundley says “The Lord had other plans for me.”
Guam went to the Ulithi islands for some rest for the crew and while there the Atom bomb was dropped on Japan, and the war was over. While in the Ulithi area Hundley had the opportunity to see his brother who was on a hospital ship after being wounded. Guam was then assigned to do cleanup work on islands where Japanese were still fighting because they did not know the war was over.
Guam’s next assignment was to transport army and marine troops back to the US for
release from active duty. Some 1500 troops were aboard Guam at one time and bunks
were used 24 hours a day for sleeping. Three men were assigned to a bunk with eight
hours use of the bunk for each man. Many of the men had just been paid after several
months and an informal casino was set up on USS Guam in an obscure place, without permission but small fortunes were won and lost on the trip home. Guam was decommissioned and put in “mothballs” in early 1946 and Hundley oversaw some of that work. According to an historical note, USS Guam sold for scrap in 1961.
Hundley says, “I was frightened every time the ship’s guns went off as I knew we were under attack.” He says “I was very busy in my Navy career and didn’t have time to worry too much about what was going on around me. I just did my job.”
Hundley married in March 1946 to the former Alice Carroll of Leaksville and has one son and one daughter as well as several grandchildren. His career after his release from active duty was primarily in production with Karastan division of Fieldcrest Mills in Eden, NC.
Shinn, Conrad “Gus”
Mount Shinn is the third highest mountain in Antarctica at 15,292 feet. It is named after Conrad “Gus” Shinn from Spray NC, the first aviator to land an aircraft on the South Pole, in connection with Operation Deep Freeze II, an Antarctic Expedition in 1956.
Some of Gus Shinn’s earliest memories are of his father’s World War I uniform, and other accessories kept in a trunk in the attic. Shinn was intrigued as his father talked of combat and the aviators with their heroics in WW I. As a youngster, Shinn would dress up in his father’s uniform, put on the gas mask and play soldier. His father and mother were always a great inspiration to him and the early exposure to things military later guided Shinn to a career as an aviator in the US Navy.
During his growing up years and into high school, Shinn followed current events and was aware of the history unfolding in Europe in the late 1930s. After graduation from Leaksville high school, Shinn entered NC State to study aeronautical engineering and felt a natural inclination to join the Reserve Officers Training Corps.
In 1942, at the end of his 3rd year at NC State, Shinn elected to join, and was accepted in, the US Navy aviation cadet program. Pre-flight training was at University of North Carolina followed by primary training at Naval Air Station (NAS) Olathe KS and advanced training at NAS Corpus Christi TX. Shinn wanted to be a multi engine pilot and it was helpful that single engine (fighter aircraft) and multi engine (transport aircraft) pilots were separated into their categories alphabetically. Shinn’s name being near the end of the alphabet put him on the multi engine path.
Shinn was commissioned an Ensign and received his “gold wings” as a naval aviator in August 1943. He went on to advanced instrument school in late 1943 and in early 1944 was assigned to VR-1 (transport squadron 1). For about six months, he was flying high priority equipment in the anti-submarine effort to east coast destinations. Shinn was transferred to the South Pacific in late 1944.
Shinn explains, “Flying in combat conditions in the South Pacific was an extreme challenge, continually flying beyond our capabilities in all kinds of weather. We were just plain lucky we did not get killed.” Shinn would fly onto an island, which was not secured yet by our forces, to deliver whole blood, and on the return, take wounded soldiers back for medical care. The lumbering R5Ds (larger transport aircraft) made tempting targets for Japanese sharpshooters. It was common to have bullet holes in the fuselage of the aircraft after one of those missions. Coming into Okinawa on one such mission, Shinn could see US Navy ships firing their big guns and Japanese kamikaze (suicide) aircraft targeting our ships – with some success. One wounded soldier being evacuated for medical care by Shinn said, “I feel safer in my foxhole than in your plane.”
Shinn was on a flying mission when he heard news of the Japanese surrender – VJ Day (victory over Japan). A Happy Day!
For six months after VJ Day, Shinn was stationed on Guam, assigned to a medical evacuation squadron flying former US prisoners of war back to the states. When that assignment was completed, Shinn was sent back to his old squadron, VR-1 at Anacostia Naval Air station in Washington DC. He was contacted by Trigger Hawkes, a friend from South Pacific days who asked Shinn if he would like to go to Antarctica with the famous Admiral Byrd as part of a secret operation – Operation High Jump. It is said the reason for Operation High Jump was to help prepare the US Navy to fight the Russians in polar conditions. Shinn enthusiastically agreed.
Operation High Jump lasted from September 1946 to May of 1947, but only 30 days were spent at Little America in Antarctica. The participants went to within 400 miles of Antarctica on the aircraft carrier Philippine Sea with six R4Ds (smaller transport aircraft) aboard. Shinn’s plane and the others flew from the deck, and it was the first time aircraft of that size had taken off from an aircraft carrier. Colonel Doolittle’s B-25 bombers, which took off from the aircraft carrier Hornet on the Tokyo raid in 1942, were smaller but heavier.
The R4Ds were also fitted with skis for snow landings, which barely allowed the wheels to protrude and roll on the deck. Shinn was the person who tested the skis and found them satisfactory for use in Operation High Jump.
Shinn’s R4D and the five others mapped about 200,000 square miles of Antarctica in 30 days. Shinn came to know Admiral Byrd well and was a great admirer of this world-famous explorer.
Shinn then returned to Washington DC to his old squadron – VR-1. In early 1949, Shinn was assigned for two years to London where he transported high profile military and civilian personnel.
From December 1951 to March 1955 Shinn was in advanced schools, flight operations at Pensacola FL and in helicopter pilot training. In March 1955, Shinn read a Navy release requesting volunteers for a new exploration initiative to Antarctica called Operation Deep Freeze. The challenge appealed to Shinn’s adventuresome spirit, and he volunteered to become part of the operation. Deep Freeze I called for the establishment of a permanent research station to support later Deep Freeze operations. The Navy’s part was to support US scientists for their part in later International Geophysical Year studies. Unfortunately, the R4Ds flown by Shinn and others did not have enough fuel to overcome the fierce winds so had to turn back. Timing issues prevented Shinn from taking any additional flights to Antarctica in Deep Freeze I. The goal of Deep Freeze II was to establish a permanent station at the South Pole.
The R4Ds had additional fuel tanks installed to give greater range. Shinn’s flight to McMurdo Sound, Antarctica was in October 1956. The weather was terrible. Shinn and his crew had on the survival suits in case they had to ditch in freezing water with 50-foot waves. Shinn knew he would die if that option came up, so tried not to think about it. Prior to Shinn’s arrival, another plane had crashed into a mountain, and everyone aboard was killed. Shinn’s first flight over Antarctica was almost a disaster. Shinn’s R4D was fitted with nineteen JATOs (jet assisted take off) attached to the fuselage, in case of trouble. Over the Executive Range of mountains, the aircraft was hit with a wind shear and airspeed dropped precipitously causing the plane to drop like a rock. A wing brushed the ground and threw up a cloud of ice crystals as Shinn fired all nineteen JATOs. The plane rose like a helicopter from this great driving force, averting disaster. Several planes were lost during the eight months duration of Deep Freeze II.
At about 3 a.m. on October 31, 1956, Admiral Dufek, the Commander of Deep Freeze, had Shinn and the crew of his aircraft; “Que Sera Sera” awakened and were told that the flight to the South Pole would take off in secret at 8 a.m. There was a bit of rivalry as to which person would land first at the South Pole, Admiral Dufek or veteran Antarctic explorer Paul Siple who had accompanied Admiral Byrd on his first expedition in 1927. Dufek won this contest.
Lights and shadows on the icy ground at South Pole made it difficult to be certain the landing was not to be in a crevasse. Shinn circled several times and finally felt comfortable enough with the lay of the land to come in safely. The passengers and Shinn left the aircraft with the engines idling, to avoid any possibility of the engines freezing at a temperature of 65 degrees below zero. All the instruments were sluggish and there was real danger of hydraulic fluid freezing which would prevent takeoff. In addition, the South Pole is at approximately 9,000 feet elevation, which adds to the difficulty of takeoff due to “thin air.”
After 45 minutes outside the aircraft, the group was ready to head back to McMurdo Sound. In preparation for takeoff, it was obvious the skis were frozen to the ground. Shinn gunned the engines, but the plane did not move. It took all 16 of his JATOs to move the lumbering aircraft into the freezing air. It was touch and go while the plane slowly gained altitude and then safely returned to McMurdo Sound. Conrad Shinn from Spray NC – the first pilot to land an aircraft at the South Pole! The best part is, Shinn was also the first to take off from the South Pole.
Shinn describes the South Pole as the most remote, windy, cold, desolate, rugged yet beautiful place on earth in his opinion. Temperatures range from 20 degrees below zero in “warm” weather to 126 degrees below zero in the coldest weather. Antarctica is one- and one-half times the size of the United States and has an 18,000 mile coastline..
Shinn remained in Antarctica for the remainder of the expedition carrying men and material for the permanent station at South Pole. He also returned the following year for Deep Freeze III doing similar work.
In mid-1958, Shinn was transferred to NAS Pensacola FL to a flight operations job, and he retired from his Navy career 4/1/1963. Shinn has remained in the Pensacola area and even now he will see Navy acquaintances browsing in the National Museum of Naval Aviation in Pensacola or visiting at restaurants and they will remember him and thank him for the leadership he displayed over the years, especially to younger aviators.
On November 10, 2006, the Museum celebrated the 50th anniversary of the South Pole landing and paid tribute to Shinn’s courage in accomplishing this aviation milestone. Shinn says he never thought about the danger. He said, “I was in the military and when our superior officer said go, we went.”
Waynick, James Fletcher
In September 1945, some of the most pleasant words Jimmy Waynick ever heard were these over the loudspeakers on the USS Audubon: “This is your Captain speaking! Coxswain set your course for San Francisco. The war is over!” After almost two years in the US Navy and participation in the invasion of Okinawa, Waynick was going home.
James Waynick was born in Greensboro but lived his entire life in Reidsville except for his time in the Navy. His father was a farm blacksmith and operated a repair shop for the newfangled automobiles that were now appearing in Reidsville. As a young person, Waynick was very interested in all things electrical. He hung around Irving Electric Co. in Reidsville doing odd jobs and picked up some of the electrician skills he used in his life’s work. He built his first ham radio at the age of 13. At Reidsville High School he helped keep things electrical operating, including repairing school clocks so they would run on time.
After graduating from Reidsville High School in 1937, he began work at Irving Electric full time for a salary of $6 per week. After a time with Irving Electric, he received an offer from American Tobacco as an electrician at the handsome rate of $18 per week. He could not refuse the 200% salary increase so he took the job.
Due to the poor health of his father, Waynick helped support his parents until he entered the Navy. After World War II started, draft rules allowed the sole financial supporter of a family to be deferred from military service. All his friends were in the service, and he began to feel a little embarrassed about his deferment even though it was appropriate considering his parents’ plight. In December 1943, he elected not to extend his deferment and was immediately drafted into the service.
Waynick was sent to Camp Croft, SC for processing and as part of the process was asked which branch of the service he was interested in and what qualifications he had for military service. Waynick quickly responded that he was an electrician and wanted to be in the Navy. In three days, he was at the Naval Training Center, Bainbridge, Maryland.
He and the rest of the recruits were stripped down, given a physical examination as well as their fill of “shots”. He put his skivvies back on and was given a duffle bag, which was gradually filled as he walked down a line and was provided with shoes, socks, underwear, uniforms and other items of equipment; all he would need for the next two years of active duty. Waynick could hardly carry his duffle bag after it was full. He was then assigned to a Company and began his basic training.
All recruits had to learn to swim in case a ship went down at sea. His swimming instructor, Ensign Keefer, was a champion swimmer. Waynick just could not get the hang of swimming, but Keefer said Waynick had to swim as well as jump off a 40-foot tower into the water to graduate from basic training. On the last day of basic, Keefer said if Waynick would just climb the tower and climb down the cargo net next to it he would pass him. Waynick went up and Keefer tried to push Waynick off the tower into the water, but Waynick grabbed Keefer and they both went in the water, Keefer with his dress blue uniform on. This “jump” qualified Waynick so the next day, he graduated from basic training. Keefer was not happy.
While in basic training, the recruits were assigned to their specialties. Waynick, as he requested, was assigned as an electrician and sent to Camp Perry VA for a three months course in Navy electrical training. During his duty at Camp Perry, Waynick received a 72-hour pass and went to Reidsville by train. Unfortunately, the nearest train stop to Reidsville was Danville VA. The next stop was Greensboro. The conductor said “Sorry, you have to get off at Danville or Greensboro”. As his girlfriend – wife to be Virginia – was waiting in Reidsville, when the train drew near the Reidsville station; Waynick pulled the emergency stop cord. The conductor found out that the train did stop in Reidsville if you had a determined sailor on board who only had a 72-hour pass.
After his training at Camp Perry, Waynick was assigned to Washington DC for further training. In Washington, along with many other navy men and women in the area, he was invited several times to the mansion of Mrs. Evelyn Walsh McLean, a former owner of the fabulous Hope diamond. She was a widow, owner of the Washington Post newspaper and one of the richest women in the United States but died tragically as a pauper years later. Waynick remembers wonderful parties at her magnificent mansion.
In late 1944, Waynick was transferred to the west coast ultimately to be assigned to the USS Audubon, an attack transport. His train ride to the west coast in December 1944 was a very uncomfortable one. The ancient rail cars had no heat and ragged, uncomfortable seats. On the way, there was a stopover at Salt Lake City, Utah. Waynick visited the Mormon Tabernacle auditorium to see the grand organ as well as other sights. It happened that while in the Tabernacle auditorium he noticed a small man trying to tune the organ. He would play a note and then go up to the organ pipes and make an adjustment. Waynick asked if he could help by playing a note on the organ while the other man made the adjustment. That was satisfactory so Waynick did that. The man introduced himself later as Alexander Schreiner the organist for the Mormon Tabernacle Choir whose tenure lasted 50 years.
The attack transport USS Audubon was commissioned in Astoria, Oregon on December 20, 1944, and Waynick was on the shakedown cruise, which lasted several days. While on the cruise, there was a mysterious tapping on one of the steel plates in the propeller area. To determine the problem, it was necessary to take off a large steel plate covering the entrance to what is called the propeller shaft alley. When the steel plate was removed, to everyone’s astonishment, a woman crawled out who said she had fallen asleep in the shaft area a day or so earlier. Waynick never heard any further explanation.
After minor repairs, the Audubon went to San Francisco to pick up 83 WAVES (women sailors), 3 WAVE officers, and 10 marines to guard them. It was clear that no one would be able to get near the WAVE quarters while they were on the Audubon in transit to Hawaii.
In January, the Audubon sailed to the island of Ulithi, picking up 1350 soldiers and 71 officers plus cargo to join a huge attacking force for the invasion of Okinawa. While on the way to Okinawa, the crew heard Tokyo Rose broadcast from Japan with the popular music of the day as well as propaganda about all the Japanese battle successes. These were fictitious reports, and the listening crew knew it.
There were ships of every description in the attacking force. The Audubon was assigned the task of carrying assault forces near the coast of Okinawa and getting them into the landing craft that would take them to the beach. The men went down cargo nets to the waiting landing craft. If a craft was not in the correct position, the momentum of many men going down the nets forced the lowest ones on the net to drop off into the water. Fortunately, they had life preservers on, which they saved their lives. Then they had to be picked up out of the water to get on another landing craft. In the process, there were incoming Japanese artillery shells as well as Japanese kamikaze (suicide) planes attacking the ships. The noise was deafening with the battleships firing 16-inch guns incessantly and aircraft flying overhead. One suicide plane sank the ship next to Waynick’s.
After the Audubon off-loaded its assault forces, during the next four days it became a first aid ship for wounded men coming off the beaches. Waynick will never forget the carnage he witnessed by way of the injured and dying men that were brought aboard the Audubon. Waynick used a winch to lift men from the landing craft to the Audubon’s deck. A shell from a Japanese plane broke the winch lever so Waynick made one out of a broom handle. Waynick says, “The little part I had to play in this major invasion was horrific to me”.
After taking the wounded men to some safe islands for treatment, the Audubon sailed to San Francisco for repairs and then back to Guadalcanal to ferry troops to the Philippines. During this voyage, USS Audubon crossed the Equator, which called for the time-honored tradition of initiating polliwogs – those who have never crossed the equator- into shellbacks – those who have. As part of the process of initiation as a shellback, sailors dressed in robes such as King Neptune and Davey Jones and other deep-sea figures and carried homemade tridents. They hazed the polliwogs with all sorts of phony accusations and as a final insult dumped them into a pool of kitchen garbage from a chair on a stand next to the “pool”. This was an all-day affair and even the ship’s captain had to be initiated. Waynick remembers the humiliating event well and still has his certificate identifying him as a shellback. This tradition continues today in the Navy.
In the Philippines, the Audubon became part of a task force preparing to invade Japan. Fortunately, the surrender ending WWII was signed before the invasion was necessary.
Waynick finally received his discharge in December 1945, returned to Reidsville, and went into business as an electrician, wiring many of the farm homes in the county for electricity. After a time, he sold this business and reclaimed his position with American Tobacco as Chief Electrician. Upon retiring early from American Tobacco in 1980, he fulfilled a lifelong ambition to join the circus as an electrician. With his wife Virginia’s blessing, he traveled several months of the year, returning to Reidsville in the off-season.
Waynick retired for good at age 69 and actively enjoys his lifelong fascination with the circus, all things electrical, pipe organs, as well as many other interests. He has three children, son Fletcher and daughters, Joan and Betty. His beloved wife Virginia, who was a well-known local artist, passed away in 2001.
Waynick says he saw parts of the world most people never see and is very proud to have served his country during WWII.
Zeigler, George E.
Critical to the success of any military campaign are those who supply the resources necessary to wage war. George Zeigler was a US Navy officer during World War II who helped earn the Allied victory by building ships that carried men and material to combat zones around the world.
Zeigler was born in Thomasville GA but moved to Columbus GA at the age of 14. After graduating from Columbus High School, he received an appointment to the US Naval Academy. A failed eye examination prevented his admission to the Academy, so Zeigler applied to Georgia Tech where he earned a degree in Mechanical Engineering June 9, 1941.
During his senior year at Tech, he learned that the US Navy was seeking Engineers. Zeigler fulfilled his long-held interest in the Navy by applying for a commission. He received his commission July 1, 1941, just two weeks after graduating from Georgia Tech. Conveniently, Zeigler’s first two months of duty were at Georgia Tech where he received his uniforms as well as indoctrination into the Navy. At the end of two months, the officer engineers were divided into three groups for further assignment. The men in Zeigler’s group were sent to various navy yards to be involved in ship construction.
On September 3, 1941, Zeigler reported for duty at the Norfolk Navy Yard, Portsmouth VA, assigned to the Construction Department. It was an exciting time for this new Ensign in the Navy Engineering Corps. The battleship USS Alabama was just being completed, and Zeigler eagerly explored every part of her. Although the United States was at peace, the Norfolk shipyard was on a wartime basis with tight security. Europe was at war, and this was clear to Zeigler as he witnessed the repair work being done to the battle-damaged British aircraft carrier HMS Illustrious at the Norfolk Navy Yard.
On December 7, 1941, Zeigler was at the movies and in the lobby. He heard a sailor shouting and swearing about the Japanese sneak attack on Pearl Harbor. Most patrons of the theater thought the sailor was drunk but of course found out rather quickly the news was accurate. Zeigler got into uniform and immediately went to the shipyard. He got no other information except that the attack reports were true. On Monday December 8, we were officially at war.
On December 8, Zeigler was named Assistant Ship Superintendent on the USS Santee, a small aircraft carrier and the USS Russell, a destroyer. On December 10, Zeigler went out on sea trials of USS Santee. There were German submarines in the area but no problems during the trials.
Living conditions were not very desirable in Portsmouth VA as the shipyard was extremely busy and housing was limited. Many shipyard workers were making more money than they ever dreamed of due to long workweeks with overtime pay. We were at war, jobs were plentiful, and pay was good. The shipyard was on a 24/7 production schedule. Zeigler worked six or seven days a week depending on the needs. He used a bicycle to get around the shipyard during the day. Surprisingly, so did the Admiral in charge, often in a full-dress white uniform. Zeigler also had duty every few weeks when he would be on call 24 hours that day. His “duty” day sometimes did not end until the early hours of the next morning due to ship production going 24 hours a day. Sleep was a bonus.
Several major combatant ships headed for the Pacific theater came in for fitting of 20 mm gun mounts to provide additional protection against Japanese air attacks. The USS Russell was one of the ships going to the Pacific. Zeigler oversaw its reconfiguration by removing torpedo tubes and adding 20 mm gun mounts. When Zeigler first reported to Norfolk Navy Yard it took 2 years to build a destroyer. Due to the needs of the Navy, that time had to be reduced so outsourcing of major ship components was done. Huge assemblies built elsewhere were brought into the yard and put on a ship, saving months of work at the shipyard.
On February 16, 1942, USS Alabama was launched. Zeigler was involved in improving the technique by which the tallow lubricant was applied to the “ways” before launching a ship. Tallow was the traditional lubricant to help the ship slide into the water, but it was difficult to apply. Zeigler helped improve the procedure.
One week after the Alabama launch, Zeigler was assigned to the US Naval Academy for a 30-week course on Naval Architecture – ship design. Life was good at the Naval Academy. He lived with three fellow students. It was a tough course, but the schedule allowed time for weekend sailing on the Severn River. A maid cleaned his living quarters and prepared good meals.
After the course at Annapolis, Zeigler received orders that sent him to Maryland Dry Dock Company in Baltimore MD. At the age of 24 as Ship Superintendent and Hull Officer, Zeigler had a great deal of responsibility and was intensely interested in his work. He was in a stressful environment where lives depended on how well he did his job. Zeigler’s responsibility was to watch the progress of construction and repair of vessels to be certain the Navy was getting what it was paying for from the contractor.
It was clear how the changing priorities of the war determined the types of ships worked on at Maryland Dry Dock Company. Attack Transports were needed to take troops to land on the remote islands of the Pacific. Tankers were needed to refuel the ships around the world. Transport ships were needed to carry supplies to the troops. Repair ships were needed to keep the ships in good operating condition. Motor Torpedo Boat tenders were needed in the Pacific to repair the PT boats, which harassed the Japanese Navy. All Maryland Dry Dock ships had a role to play in the war effort.
Construction was an intense process. There was rarely enough time to do a job “by the book”. In many cases, changes to designs had to be made on the job and the official drawings of the ship were changed to conform to the reality of construction. Many things could not wait for official approval because the speed of construction would not allow it. One day while walking by a welder, Zeigler was asked to hold a piece of material while being welded. He did it and was happy to do so as it saved precious minutes for the welder.
While getting material to build ships, sometimes the material could not be obtained on time as a mysterious higher priority project got first call on the material. Not until the Atomic bomb was dropped did Zeigler learn the mysterious project was the Manhattan Project leading to the construction of the atomic bomb.
When the war was over in Europe, things changed dramatically. The shipyard began operating on a five-day week instead of seven. Decisions had to be made concerning which ships to finish and those where construction should be stopped. When victory over Japan was declared further issues came to the fore. The question was which ships to decommission, which to scrap and which to put into “mothballs” i.e. put aside in a manner where they could be reactivated. Several ships not too far along in construction were changed to general merchant hulls so they could be sold to civilian shipping companies.
Zeigler was about to be released from active duty in early 1946 when he inquired of a friend in the Bureau of Ships in Washington about observers needed to assess ship damage during Operation Crossroads (the Bikini Atoll atomic bomb tests). The friend said Zeigler could be a person to help do that job if he wanted to do so. He had to agree to extend his time in the Navy until the tests and evaluation were completed.
Zeigler agreed and in May 1946 was on his way to Bikini Atoll in the Pacific as an observer to the atomic bomb tests. These would be the fourth and fifth bombs that were to be exploded since the invention of the atomic bomb. On July 1, 1946, there would be an explosion in the atmosphere and on July 23 an underwater explosion. Zeigler’s job was to help evaluate the damage caused by the explosions to obsolete US ships and foreign captured ships as well as guns, tanks and other major military equipment. There were about 100 ships and 25,000 people involved in the project.
The first explosion was 17 miles away from the observation point and formed the classic mushroom cloud. Many ships sank and all of them were damaged. The heat and thunder of the blast took 90 seconds to reach the ship Zeigler was on. Surprisingly, Zeigler remembers no sound from the blast. He was told to face the outside bulkhead (outer wall) of the ship he was on and to cover his eyes with his arms. The protective goggles were not considered sufficient to watch the fireball without risk of blindness. Even so, he remembers the impression of a great light from the explosion. When he turned around to look, he remembers many of the ships with a gray “plume” over them. This was caused by the great suction from the explosion pulling debris from the ship out the funnels and from other ruptures in the hull. After a long day, Zeigler would write up a lengthy report from the day’s findings and have it typed up in the wee hours so it could be sent to higher authority early the next day.
On July 23, the routine was the same except the observers were allowed to watch the underwater explosion from 11 miles away using safety goggles. The violent shock could be felt through the water and of course, untold fish were killed and surfaced from the explosion. Again, ships were sunk and heavily damaged. The only ship that withstood the blasts was a floating concrete repair dock. The radioactive contamination made it necessary to scuttle most ships still afloat. Some were returned to the United States for further study but eventually were sunk.
Zeigler finished his Bikini project reports and was released from active duty on August 30, 1946, but with 101 days of leave, his official day of separation was December 9, 1946.
His first significant job after the service was for several years with the Kendall Company, a textile manufacturer. In 1964, he moved to Eden and began work as an engineer at Fieldcrest Mills. He completed his working career at Fieldcrest as Manager of the Mechanical Development Department, retiring in 1982.
Zeigler is married to his wife Betty, and they have two children and three grandchildren. He and Betty remain active in the Eden community. Zeigler states, “the experience I gained during WWII was invaluable, and I was happy to serve”.