Willie
What a Pilot

Some men didn’t realize at the time how fortunate they were to be assigned to Mt.5 quad 40mm. It was the highest gun mount aft of the stack on the island structure and from this vantage point they had the privilege of witnessing a portion of WW2 naval history in the making. Trading the risk of topside exposure for that of being trapped below decks seemed like a good bet.
While most of this history is well documented and has been written, usually with reasonable accuracy, many events are not in history books and now only linger in the memories of those few who were there and are still alive. Many who read about this one may find it of little importance and forgettable. Not so to those who were there.
Picture: Yorktown pilot crashes into the island superstructure.

Some of our planes would return from strikes with varying degrees of damage and a decision had to be made whether to take them aboard or have them ditch in the ocean.
When the pilot of a returning TBM reported he couldn’t get his hook down he was instructed to stay aloft until all the other planes were in and the flight deck crews then prepared for a barrier crash.
The pilot was able to touch down at almost the very end of the deck.
His tires started smoking immediately while he stood on the brakes and slid up the deck. As he neared the first barrier a crewman thinking he had a chance to stop lowered it. Others were also lowered until just inches away from the last barrier the plane tilted up with the prop almost hitting the deck, and stopped.
Everyone on the deck and island structure began cheering and applauding. This outstanding feat brought tears to the eyes of some of the witnesses.
To the best of anyone’s recollections, recorded or otherwise, this is the only time a plane was able to successfully land on an Essex class carrier without a tailhook and stop before hitting the barrier.
And so it happened on the flight deck of Yorktown many years ago.

Starting with Marcus Island in August 1943, whenever Yorktown left her anchorage the general heading was west. Southwest sometimes and maybe northwest at times, but always west.
As we drove the Japs from their island bases we moved ours, from Pearl Harbor to the Marshals, then to the Carolinas and then to the Philippines where the final thrust turned north.
We never knew what the latest target was when we weighed anchor but one thing was sure, ultimately it would be the Japanese home islands.
As we slowly made our way past the tankers, ammunition and cargo ships at anchor, we only knew we were going on a raid. That’s what we came for and that’s what the millions of Americans on the home front and in the defense plants expected us to do.
There was always speculation on what our target would be, the strength of Jap defenses and what we could expect in retaliation. For this reason when the force was shaping up we were anxious to see who would be with us.
A carrier task force was divided into two to four groups only rarely coming within sight of each other. Each group was formed around at least one large carrier and usually another or a smaller CVL. It was spread out over three to five miles.
Knowing we would be the target of choice for any enemy counterattack we always liked to see another large carrier with whom to share the honor. There were only ten battleships fast enough to operate with us and because of their firepower we hoped for at least one. The AA cruisers were also reassuring. Some of them could fire fourteen five inch guns at an incoming attack. That’s compared to ten for the battleships, eight to starboard and twelve to port for us, eight for the light and heavy cruisers and five for most of the destroyers. The sight of those AA cruisers opening up on a target was awesome. They could put out over 200 five inch rounds a minute and would almost disappear in the gun flash. Two of these ships were sunk early in the war with a loss of 846 men
We felt fairly secure with two battleships in our group as we headed out for another raid. Rumor had come down it was going to be a “big one.”  After we were out a few days the captain told us we going to Truk. We were very apprehensive about this raid because of all we had heard about Truk. At the time it was known as the Japanese Pearl Harbor and had never been attacked before. When our captain spoke to us over the PA system describing Truk and what we expected to find there he closed with, “We are going to give those little yellow bastards their own Pearl Harbor to remember”.

I often think, in this day and time that statement would probably have cost Capt. Ralph Jennings his command if not his career. But this was in the days before our country became a victim of PC insanity and there were no overly sensitive ears on our ships therefore no complaints of harassment or discrimination. The Japs prided themselves on never surrendering and fighting to the death so as one of our admirals put it, we’re here “to kill Japs.”
More on Truk later.
Sometime in the Truk raid time frame, while standing gun watch on the blackest night I have ever experienced I heard a crashing roar somewhere off the port quarter. Other gun mounts were calling in saying they heard it and were wondering what could it be.
We found out at daybreak, Washington and Indiana were no longer with us. They collided in that black night and the fast carrier task forces were down to eight battleships for the next few months.

Archie
Memories
You’re bringing back memories Will. What I remember about the Truk raid was our concern we had been spotted the day before we struck. We had hoped to surprise the Japs and didn’t know if their patrol plane got off a message before he was shot down.
Another thing that sticks in my memory is our run in the night before when the force was steaming at thirty knots to close the distance. No matter where you were on the ship you could sense the speed because you felt the vibration and everything loose was rattling.
Hard to believe that was sixty years ago Willie. We were just boys growing up fast. From school books and pinball machines to a warship overnight it seemed.
Our boys today are once again making the sacrifice and laying their lives on the line. In spite of a cowardly mongrel press and media who refuses to report anything positive, they are winning.

Willie also remembers our US Marines on the USS Yorktown:

In Aug 1944 we stopped in Pearl Harbor on our way to Bremerton. We were only there a day or two and picked up many ambulatory wounded men some of whom were Marines. We had room since we would be coming to the states without our planes.

At an evening meal one of the men sitting next to me asked if I would cut his meat for him. Before I asked why I noticed most of one hand was missing. He told me he was hit as he stepped out of the landing craft at one of the islands (could have been Tarawa but I'm not sure) and was taken back to the APA. He commented his war had lasted about one minute.

Keeping the crew in food between the battles

During my time aboard Yorktown I was somehow spared duty on the mess deck, in the galley or in the scullery.
I never dreaded the prospect however, because having done a stint of messcooking in boot camp I learned any duty in the Navy was more or less what you made it. There were always advantages if you looked for them and attitude could make or break the experience. If you went in looking for and expecting shxt that’s usually what you would find.
I was assigned to the breakout gang for a three month stretch which would satisfy the messcooking obligation most all unrated men faced during their time aboard ship.
This was the group that broke out all of the food for the next day and brought it to the galley and the bake shop.
My two main objections (not that objections made any difference whatsoever) were I would have to temporarily move out of my sleeping compartment and because of this change, re-assigned to a new battle station in a damage control party below decks. The reasoning being I would be one deck lower and further away from the guns.
The first didn’t matter very much because we hardly ever slept in our bunks. The second was resolved early on when one of the 40MM gun captains said he needed my experience on his gun mount. I had served with him on mt. 5 before he was promoted. The gun was on the port side gallery deck level and the only drawback was having the four 5" guns of mts 5 and 7 firing over us when they had to fire to port. It didn’t happen too often during my stay there but when it did it was brutal.
I guess you could say I wound up with what I considered the best of possibilities, a straight day job and a battle station on the guns.
We usually finished our day’s work before noon and nobody messed with us when we were through. We had no cleaning chores and in the absence of GQ, spent leisurely afternoons and evenings almost like passengers.
The work wasn’t easy, like carrying 100 lb boxes of potatoes and 50 lb sacks of flour up three or four decks to the galley and bake shop, but then again, work for deck division sailors was seldom easy.
We had a lot of time to conjure up our little schemes to pilfer whatever goodies were available and to gather the makings of raisin jack. We occasionally had a batch or two working in one of the dry store rooms in one gallon mustard or mayonnaise jars. All that was necessary was some raisins, sugar and sometimes cornmeal, a safe place for fermentation and a storekeeper with a taste for wine. It took ten days from mixing the ingredients to filtering and drinking
The result tasted like a sauterne wine and good enough that I have made some since leaving the Navy.
Our most memorable caper was stealing beer out of the chill box. This was where fresh fruit and vegetables were stored if and when we had them. It was a huge refrigerated compartment down at the lowest level in the after part of the ship and kept at about 38 degrees. In the center of the compartment were several hundred cases of beer neatly stacked in such a way they could be counted by eyeballing.
By switching padlocks on the door we were able to sneak in one night and removed two cases from the middle of the stack. The hardest part was moving the cases around in such a way as to cover up the empty space.
As expected, we were spotted as we made our way to the fantail and were joined by several others looking for a beer.
Nobody ever said anything and to the best of my memory the missing beer was never discovered. Not like another beer stealing episode that was discovered but the culprits were never identified.
Did we have a craving for the taste of wine or beer? No, we could have easily done without it but we knew the officers up in officers country had access to booze so why not us. The real boozers aboard ship in those days were drinking stuff like aftershave lotion and vanilla extract. In fact, one concoction they made with Aqua Velva and orange juice wasn’t too bad except it had a soapy aftertaste. I only tasted a sip but some of the old timers drank it. Aqua Velva was a hot item back in those days
In spite of all the warnings, a few men on other ships and stations still drank torpedo alcohol with some suffering terrible consequences including death.
After three months I went back on the 5" guns where I remained until the end of the war. The other men I served with in the breakout gang have remained among my best friends to this day.

 

The Lucky Y  says Willie

By March 11, 1945 we had seen several of our sister carriers hit and set aflame. As the war was winding down we all suspected the worst was yet to come as the Japs were getting desperate and intensifying the kamikaze attacks. As it turned out in the weeks ahead over a thousand men would die on Franklin and Bunker Hill alone.
Other ships crews sometimes called us the Lucky Y and I suppose luck had a lot to do with us still being alive but who’s to argue? Most of us didn’t dwell on the possibility of dying and if we had an option, many would have been chosen death over getting f...ed up. If it was luck keeping us alive the luckiest of all days was upon us.
On the evening of this date I drew an anchor watch. It was the only one I ever drew and I pissed and moaned because they were going to show a Betty Grable movie and I wanted to see it.
Up on the foc’sle I could hear the crew whooping and hollering back on the hangar deck and figured Betty was showing off her million dollar behind and legs.
I stepped out on the “chains” platform to observe the angle of the anchor chain which would indicate if the anchor is holding the bottom. No angle or vertical meant the ship was free and drifting. As I moved out I heard a plane fly by that sounded like an OS2U, a float plane carried by the battleships and cruisers. I didn’t pay any attention to it because when the fleet was at anchor these planes were always flying around. It didn’t dawn on me that they wouldn’t be flying at night.

What happened next was an unforgettable (for me) example of the difference between the speed of light and sound. I was observing the chain when the side of the ship began glowing a bright orange. As I began to wonder “what the hell is going on” I heard an explosion. That plane flying by was a kamikaze, suicide pilot.

He passed close enough to our bow that had I seen him I could have probably hit him with a baseball. He had his sights on Randolph which was anchored next in line to us a few thousand yards away. He passed up the forward part of Yorktown and the opportunity to kill as many as two thousand Yorktowners including me.

He went on to hit the after part of Randolph causing 25 dead, 106 wounded.

General quarters was sounded along with the call for “special sea details”. Some of us were confused not knowing which call to answer first. Needless to say pandemonium erupted on the hangar deck as two thousand or so men scrambled to get to their battle stations.