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 Any contributions to this area would be greatly appreciated.
Please keep them G-rated.If you would care to purchase (well worth it) a book of the Potter's
exploits during WWII, please
e-mail me and your request will be
forwarded.
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| In June 1958, Stephen
Potter was again placed out of commission, in reserve, and berthed at
Mare Island, California. She remained there until 1 December
1972 when she was struck from the Navy list. Stephen Potter
received 10 battle stars for World War II service. |
|
From Jack Wolf:
Then there was our yard overhaul in Philadelphia. That experience
I'll never forget; it was like living in a kettle drum with all the
banging going on. Fortunately, they moved us off the ship and
billeted us in quieter quarters.
From John Q:
Don't know where the officers went, but the rest of the crew went to a
barracks barge which held the entire crews from four cans, or maybe
from six cans. And was it cold in there! The only warm place was the
day room, where one could observe young sailors wearing Mickey Mouse
ears, watching the Mickey Mouse Club and drooling over Annette
Funicello. It brought back memories of boot camp at Bainbridge, and
the daily admonition, "You're a man now, and in a man's Navy...act
like it."
Our bunks were six
high, and very close together; I slept between two fat guys and had to
get out and then back in again in order to change position. It was,
however, a thrill to see the old battleship Olympia, which sailed with
the Great White Fleet. They wouldn't let anybody aboard, which was a
disappointment.
From
Wally Cox:
Philly
Yards was where that picture was taken of me and Ron Detert comparing
chests. About got killed in a gang fight there. Those boys from
Philly were a bad lot; they beat up one of our young snipes one night.
One guy, a fleet boxer, got a bunch of us to go over and even up the
score. We were quickly outflanked and barely escaped with our lives.
They were much more experienced at street-fighting than we were. |
|
From Bob Youngblood:
Anybody remember Black Friday, just
before we sailed for WesPac? I was standing fire axe watch, two on and two
off, all night, in and out of Mount 55, while we made turns for eight knots (I
heard) with borrowed snipes from the rest of the nest to keep our
anchor-rode strain for the rest of the nest in tolerance. Some brave guy
volunteered to get into a swamped whaleboat to bail it out, but then the
painter parted. Three good guys from another ship in the division got into a
"healthy" whaleboat to rescue him; they were found frozen on the far side of
Narragansett Bay the next morning.
From George Core:
Sea detail and GQ were both set. All the damage-control teams were suited
up. We were in a nest of four ships; Potter, Picking, Irwin, and Preston.
Both anchors couldn't have been dropped because one of the anchor chains was
fastened to the buoy. We dropped the other anchor and we were still moving.
I don't think anyone from the Potter died. Charles Ewing GM3 got his wrist
broken while trying to hold a fender between ships.
From Jerry Bessler:
Who remembers the storm in March of 56? Got 24 inches of snow
overnight. Four destroyers were beached. Six sailors lost their
lives, including two from our division. Four drowned, two
electrocuted all as a result of the storm. Happened on a Friday after
most of the crew was ashore for weekend liberty. Spent the entire
night at GQ. Kept a few knots on the screws just to stay in place.
This was at Newport, Rhode Island.
From Wally Cox:
Caught us in port; I remember it well! Four ships were moored
together, and we were getting bounced up and down on each other.
Finally told to break out of the nest. Steamed ahead with both
anchors out to keep off the beach. I had a striker who came into CIC
after GQ was sounded. I told him to do something, but he said he
needed to go below. I said," You just got here." He agreed but he had
just messed himself watching a guy die in the water. The guy was a
big dude and so heavy that they couldn't pull him out. The water was
so cold he died right off the fantail. I had heard his screams when
I came topside to set the watch, but looked back aft and saw that
there were a lot of guys working the problem, so I went on forward to
light off the gear. We lost guys because we were trying to get them
back aboard from liberty and launches were getting lost in the storm.
Not one of the better memories.
From Ron Detert:
I wish I had stayed aboard that night! I had a bad time getting back
to the ship. When I got down to the Fleet Landing, I had to wait and
wait some more. Things looked a little different; you could hardly
see when the launch pulled in. Now, this was a "big one"; must have
been a launch from a bigger ship, not a little whale boat. Anyway,
they packed us in like sardines. I thought," Man, if we go over, it
would be one big scramble for the canvas flap opening in the big black
canvas that covered the whole launch." But that was not the worst of
it all! The big problem for me anyway was that there were sailors
from different ships on this same launch, and the POTTER was the last
drop-off. I did think at one time that we were not going to make it;
we took one big roll that I didn't think we would recover from. I
swear, at one time I thought we were riding on the canvas side of the
launch. Anyway, we made it; I still thank God for that! Later, I had
to type up all the damage reports for COMDESDIV, COMDESATFLT, BUPERS,
the base commander, etc, etc, and then some...must have taken at least
a month. Like other things in the military, some reports had to be
redone and/or resubmitted. Nowadays, I wouldn't give up that
experience for anything - just one of the many happenings that earned
us that "Right of Passage". I'm proud I was with you old salts.
From George Silvani:
I have been following the e-mails being passed
around by the
Potter Ancient Mariners, particularly those about
a heavy weather hit
in1953 or early 54.My
memory is a bit fuzzy on the precise time that the Potter
was the only tin can to be hit by two to
Hurricanes in the same season,
probably 1955. First we were up in the Northern
end of Chesapeake Bay
for gunnery exercises. when we battened down for
the first hurricane. A
few weeks later we were moored in a nest along
side the tender
Yellowstone. Skipping a lot of preliminary heavy
weather stories, Capt.
Eddy Left the nest in the forward direction. A
dangerous maneuver
whose successful completion avoided heavy serious
damage to the Potter
and other tin cans. Dragging anchor while trying
to get a grip on the
bottom of Narraganset Bay, we pulled up an
antique sailing ship anchor,
which I understand is now on display in a
maritime museum. The next item
brought up to the surface was the phone cable
connecting Newport with
the continental US.The
hurricane passed quickly and weekend liberty started only
about four hour late. Are there any old salts who
remember any of this?
Also from George Silvani:
Your memory is much better than mine. I now
recall , as you say, there
were two hurricanes to pass over the bay.
However, I can't remember
which one the Potter experienced. I still marvel
at that maneuver Capt.
Eddy made to leave the nest along side the AD
Yellowstone. As the wind
and waves became stronger and higher it was
obvious that nest had to be
broken up to prevent the ships already taking
some top side damage from
getting more serious damage.
The seas made the ships roll while the wind
pressure pushed them
together. The normal way of leaving a nest it to
back out. Backing down
pushes the stern out from the ship along side.
Going forward sucks it
in. Going forward is a no no even under normal
conditions. Capt. Eddy
studying the swing of the nest for a while,
warned the engine room to
stand by for a big forward bell, and line
handlers to let go all lines.
The Potter took a roll into the ship along side,
and bounced outboard
about 10 feet. He immediately let go all lines
and ordered all engines
ahead standard. I passed the word for all hands
to clear the starboard
side, as I certain we were going to leave a good
part of it behind.
The ship took of like a greyhound. The space
between ships closed as
we accelerated. The only contact was when the our
propeller guard took a
little paint of the bow of the other tin can.
Then we were clear.I've never been in
a situation where I had to go ahead to leave a
nest was necessary. And If I had to, I felt
that Capt. Eddy taught me
how to do it.
From Jack Wolf:
The
night of the storm on March 16, 1956, was hair raising. An
attempt was made to hoist the Captain's gig out of the water
but it was futile, the wind and sea were too uncooperative.
It was thought that the safest place for the gig to ride out
the storm was between the fantails of two ships in the nest.
However, somehow the gig rode up on the stern line when the
ships' sterns yawed inward towards one another. Some time
later as the ships parted the slack was pulled taught
flipping the gig. With all the commotion that took place
that night the gig incident must have appeared rather minor
in the scheme of things.
From
Bob Hiden:
There are reminences of the March Newport gale-blizzard on
the Potter website. I came aboard a few weeks earlier at
the Phila Naval Yard and remember the storm vividly. I was
stuck on board with Harry Donohue, the Ops Officer who was
CDO during the whole mess. He may have been the senior
officer in the nest. In any event I think it was the
Preston who sent a gig in and the crew was found dead when
the boat washed up, I think, near Quonset Point. The
Potter steamed to the buoy for much of the time and I
believe the gyro had been lit off.. Another Destroyer was
ordered underway(not from our nest) under command of a LTJG
and she went up on the rocks trying to exit Newport Harbor.
|
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The water fight at
Gatun Lake started out innocently enough as a fresh water washdown.
Before long, innocent bystanders were "accidentally" sprayed just
enough to get their attention. Predictably, the washdown soon
deteriorated into an intership melee.
This gem comes
from Wally Cox:
For those who made the passage, you will recall that the locks of the
Panama Canal were a preview of Hell. I doubt Hell could be much more
miserable with respect to heat. The fun part of course, was the water
fight with the other destroyer (can't remember who it was) with the
fire hoses after we anchored in
Gatun Lake.
My fondest memory; however, is about Lt. Wolf. He was the O and I
Division officer at the time. Replaced Lt.Feld, I think. He came up
to me and said, "You know, Cox, I have the watch back here on the
fantail to supervise this frivolity, and darn it, I can't go in
swimming. But you know if I got thrown in by some fun-loving guys, I
would just have to swim to get out." I lined up a couple of guys
whose names I can't remember, gave them the skinny on the deal and
assured them we wouldn't get in trouble. We got hold of Lt. Wolf and
heaved him off the fantail. Well, as luck would have it, he hit the
water like a jellyfish, i.e. arms and legs downward in extension, and
he made the loudest darned belly flop I have ever heard! For a few
seconds I thought we were going to have to go in after him. He just
floated there and I thought he was dead. Finally he started moving and
made it back aboard. He gave me a very dirty look like I had done it
on purpose and went forward with a very, very red belly.
From LTJG Wolf
I enjoyed reading your version of the
"swim call" story. You certainly have a knack of spinning a yarn.
Allow me to embellish on it a bit. Everyone wanted to take part in
the fresh water wash down, including me. On my way to the fantail a
group of chiefs huddling in the midship passageway warned me what
would happen if I stepped out on the weather deck. Since I was game
for anything I charged ahead. Here's where your story kicks in. As
the Captain went ashore for a briefing he gave strict orders that swim
call was forbidden because of alligator sightings. As I passed you a
few jovial words were spoken and the next thing I knew it was "allioops"
and I found myself spread-eagle in the water with my breath knocked
out of me. With that, about two dozen able bodied seamen dove in to
save me. Well, that ended the restriction on swim call. Upon
swimming to the accommodation ladder the quarterdeck OOD, for whatever
reason, failed to see the humor in the impromptu swim. He proceeded
to write me up thinking that I was the ringleader. It was either that
or write us all up and that would have involved a lot of paperwork.
Soon after Captain Almgren returned to the ship I was called to his
cabin. He proceeded to tell me that my actions weren't too bright and
that it was the next thing to inciting a riot. However, he did admit
that it was a novel idea. He kept me in his cabin while we chatted
and had coffee. Because of the formal nature of the complaint when an
appropriate time elapsed he dismissed me saying, "if you don't mention
our discussion to anyone neither will I". Captain Almgren was a real
leader. In fact, I believe he was a leader amongst leaders.
By the way my predecessor aboard the Potter was Fred
Gaebler. I happened
to run into him in Chicago back in the early sixties. The only other
paths I crossed were those of Lt. Jack Accetta, Gunnery Officer and
Chief Jerry Bessler, then a 1st class radiomen. The last time I saw
Jack was in Philadelphia about thirty-five years back. On the
other hand, Jerry and I, although we haven't met since our Potter days
began communicating with one another about five years ago when
Jerry tracked me down. After Jerry retired from the navy he became a
teacher and since has retired from teaching. After his second
retirement he moved to Little Rock, AK. Today he lives in Payson, AZ
about 60 miles north of Phoenix. I'm sending him a copy of this
E-mail for his amusement.
I really can't top Wally's "swim call" story.
Therefore, we probably should let it stand-alone. However, to set
the mood for our abbreviated stay in Panama City I'd like to
contribute this story. In making preparations for getting underway
from Panama City the special sea detail watch was set several hours
before sunrise. Those of us on the bridge could see the last of the
stragglers cross the brow just prior to it being taken on board.
About that time reveille was piped over the PA system. But instead
of the traditional reveille those sober enough heard a loud rendition
of "Sick, Sober and Sorry". Never in my life have I ever seen such a
sorrowful bunch of sailors.
It¹s funny how transiting the canal stirred up innovativeness. Like
when a group of junior officers sat on the 01 level in the shade of
mount #52 cutting shorts from khaki trousers. The more skilled tailors
hemmed the legs; others took a shortcut by a quick clip of the
scissors. It wasn't long before Irish pennants formed and dangled
down to their boot tops. To make things worse those who fashioned
short shorts had their skivvies fall below the hemline. This behavior
prompted an academy type officer to submit a repair request for the
captain’s signature. It read:
1. Condition requiring work: Drum majors on this ship lack batons.
Boots and shorts are in satisfactory condition. Shortage of hats
causes an embarrassment.
2. Repairs requested: Manufacture and furnish hats.
3. Repair parts required: Batons and hats or renew officers.
4. Nameplate data: junior officers (Reserve - non-academy)
If this insult wasn’t enough Captain Almgren signed the request
adding, approved only if spangles are sewn on shorts and spurs affixed
to boots. All qualified drum majors should have no hair on legs or
arms that might be unsightly on parade.
From Glen Knisely
Deposition taken from Glen Knisely in the case of Wolf vs. Cox:
I was a shipfitter in R-Div.(FP3) at the time. I still shiver
when I visualize you landing on your back, in the lake. I was a
witness. We entered the locks at 1200 hrs. on Wednesday 03
April, dropped the hook shortly after entering the lake. I think
your reverse belly flopper was that same day. In my "56"
calendar I have listed that we also went swimming in the lake on the
4th. Hope this gives you time to prepare for a much better dive
in '02. Sorry I won't be able to witness this one.
From John Q.:
I was the starboard lookout when we went through the canal. Got
second-degree sunburn on my face and arms. Couldn't figure out why I
was on the sunny side of the ship if we were going from the Atlantic
to the Pacific. Finally looked at a chart and realized that the
Pacific end of the canal is actually east of the Atlantic end. Duuuuh!
And all the
off-duty guys were partying with a troop of girl sea scouts who were
along for the ride. Of course, I wasn't jealous or anything like
that.
From Wally Cox:
Those were the days. I also got burned so bad going through the
canal. I think I used every bottle of Noxzema on the ship. I fell
asleep on the 01 deck bathing on my stomach. Looked like I had been
at Ground Zero at
Nagasaki.
From John Q.:
We made a steady recording of fathometer readings all the way from
Panama to Long Beach, recording the lat & long on the paper roll every
couple of hours. A few weeks later, the first atomic sub (Nautilus??)
made the trip submerged. Maybe no big deal now, but it sure was then.
From Wally Cox:
I remember when the Nautilus came out. We did a dark-ship rendezvous
(I think the whole squadron was involved). Purpose was to
indoctrinate the destroyer skippers in what they would be up against.
When our captain Almgren came back, I asked "How fast will she go,
Captain?" He smiled and said, "Cox, you know better than that. But I
will tell you this: when she kicks it up, she makes noise. And if she
makes noise, I can find her." |
|
At some point in
the latter part of 1956,the Potter was refueling from the BonHomme
Richard. Owing to a sudden loss of lube oil pressure in the port
shaft, we sideswiped the carrier three times in quick succession.
From George Core:
I was the sea
detail helmsman at the time of the collision. We were alongside with
no problems. Seas were a little choppy and it wasn't too hard to
maintain course. Almgren was the skipper at the time he was on the
bridge at the time. But did not have the con. As I remember a
LTJG was the OD and had the con. Can't remember his name this
old timers memory kicks in all the time. All of a sudden the ship
started to lose speed the fore and aft refuel cables were hooked up we
had been receiving fuel it of course started to pull us into the
carrier port side too. I had full right rudder and hollered that the
ship was not responding to the helm that's when Almgren took over the
con I was about to transfer to the after helm he then ordered for
emergency breakaway by that time the damage had been done. I know I
was one scared sailor thinking it was my fault and shaking like a dog
trying to pass a peach seed. It wasn't till we got clear that we
found out we had lost lube oil pressure and the starboard shaft had
been locked down. Boy does this bring back the memories.
From John Q.:
All us deck apes ran over to the
starboard side and aft in a hurry. Somebody remained standing on the
torpedo tubes, unaware that a humungous pelican hook went flying about
a foot over his head. One guy fell down a hatch and broke his leg.
The carrier sent over a chopper which
hovered over then
fantail while they hoisted him up. (No FRAM jobs in those days) Think
Edwards was the captain then.
For whatever
reason, there was also an admiral aboard, just visiting. The
scuttlebutt that reached the after crew's quarters was that the
captain and the admiral froze, and the ship's newest ensign, Dominick
Vicedomine, took
command. This, like most rumors, turned out to be totally false.
From Wally Cox:
Remember very well, I think a guy on the carrier was killed by a
whipping steel cable. What a mess, fuel oil all over the decks, tore
a bit off the port side forward where lines were attached, and we took
on water. Our mast tore a hole in the carrier's island. I was taking
some sun on the 01 deck by the ECM shack. I noticed we were falling
back shortly after we hooked up, and as soon as I noticed, there was
this kid, looking terrified, standing there with his sound-powered
phones on, holding the frayed cord in his hand. (He had been on the
bridge) I said, "Reb, what happened" He replied that all he heard was,
"Emergency breakaway, emergency breakaway", and he left. I also knew
the machinist's mate who shut down the screw. He said that when he
lost lube oil pressure, it was either shut it down or lock it up due
to heat, and he was trained to shut it down.
Big inspection, I
recall, and nothing ever came of it.
From Bob Moff:
I was on the forward refueling station when she headed for that
carrier. On the phones, I was sure telling that carrier to shut it
off, then the fuel line parted.
From Ron Detert:
We started to get sucked into the carrier, cause we were too close.
The XO had the conn, and he ordered right standard rudder. The
captain hollered, Belay that!! Right ten degrees rudder" That slowly
pulled us out. I was right there on the bridge cause I was the
captain's phone talker, which was my special sea detail station.
From Bob Hiden:
The following are some excerpts from the Deck Log and the Engineering
Logs covering the collision with the BON HOMME RICHARD on October 17,
1956, along with some recollections. I kept copies of the logs, as
well as some of the messages that went back and forth before the
inquiry in
Yokosuka
later in October. The clock in the after engine room was 2 minutes and
50 seconds slower than the bridge clock and the forward engine room
clock was 1 minute and 57 seconds slower than the bridge.
Deck Log:
08-12
Steaming as before. 0745 c/c to 268T 0750 Mustered the crew at
quarters: Absentees: none. 0807 c/s to 20 knots. 0812 c/s to 16
knots. 0823 c/s to 14 knots. 0830 Proceeding to take station broad
on the port bow of the guide, distant 3000 yards. 0840 On station.
Set courts 268T, speed 14 knots. 0908 Proceeding to take lifeguard
station 1000 yards astern the BON HOMME RICHARD. 0915 On station.
c/s to 14 knots, set course 268T. Stationed lifeguard detail. 0919
Secured lifeguard detail. Stationed fueling detail. 0940 Proceeding
from lifeguard station 1000 yards astern the guide to take station
alongside to starboard for refueling. c/s to 18 knots. Replenishment
course 268T, replenishment speed 14 knots. 0947 Alongside the USS
BON HOMME RICHARD to starboard. c/s to 14 knots. 0948 First line
over aft. 0949 First line over forward. Line parted. 0950 Second
line over forward. 0955 Hose over aft. 0957 Commenced pumping
aft. 0958 Hose over forward. Steering courses between 264T to 266T
to maintain station 80 to 100 feet off the carrier. Indicating 147 to
149 RPMs to keep fueling trunks lined up. 0959 Began slipping astern
rapidly and steered in towards the carrier. c/c to 271T. All ahead
full. 1000 Lost control. Falling more rapidly astern. Captain
ordered Emergency breakaway. Forward engine room reported loss of
brake oil suction to No. 2 main engine: Port shaft locked after hose
and span wire parted. Made contact with the starboard side of the USS
BON HOMME RICHARD abeam of her after elevator and crane tub at this
ships frame 48. Forward span wire and hose parted. All engines
stop. Set Condition ABLE throughout the ship. Damage as a result of
the contact: Bitt ripped up from deck at frame 48 making a 14 inch by
18 inch hole in main deck port side; Lifelines and stanchions from
frame 42 to frame 54 portside main deck torn off; no. 2 life raft
demolished; two stanchions supporting 01 deck at frame 54 portside
main deck ripped out; portside 01 deck frame 50-frame 54, three (3)
feet of deck torn up; 01 level portside stanchions and lifeline frame
50 to frame 72 ripped out; two supporting stanchions for 02 and 01
level portside at frames 60 and 64 ripped off; portside 01 level frame
94 trainers seat broken off Mount 42; trainers footpedal broken,
trainers sight steered off. Radar antenna wave guide twisted, ready
service racks on mount snapped off, six cable stuffing tubes to
training gear snapped but wire unbroken, wire to starboard firing
motor crushed, train switch grounded, trainer seat support bent; 01
deck centerline frame 110 torpedo mount had two dogs on rear door,
left barrel bent. All damage to mount 42 and torpedo mount a result
of forward span wire parting and lashing around. H/H mount port side
01 deck frame 56 to 58-ready service locker and sun shield outboard
partially bent by parting span wire and hose. No damage to H/H
launcher. No personnel casualties reported as a result of the contact
with the USS BON HOMME RICHARD. 1001 Starboard back one-third as
stern passed clear of USS BON HOMME RICHARD. 1002 Alternating by
backing and going ahead one-third on starboard screw to maintain
heading of base course. 1003 Gained steering control. 1024
Mustered the crew on stations: no absentees. 1037 Starboard ahead
full. 1046 Starboard ahead flank. 1046 No leaking hull ruptures
reported by Damage Control Central. Set Condition BAKER throughout
the ship. 1145 Made daily inspection of magazines and smokeless
power samples; conditions normal. 1204 Starboard ahead two-thirds.
Commenced unlocking the port shaft. 1205 Unlocked the port shaft.
1217 Port ahead two-thirds. 1218 Port ahead standard. 1223 Port
ahead two-thirds. 1231 Port ahead standard. 1233 Starboard ahead
full. 1243 Port ahead full. 1249 All ahead flank. 1255 All ahead
full. 1257 All ahead standard.
R. B. Hiden, Jr., Ens, USNR
Engineering Log:
08-12
Steaming as before: 0930 Set fueling detail. 0955 Loss of lube oil
#2 main engine. 0956 Locked port shaft. 1005 Secured superheaters #2
& 4 boilers. Investigation revealed leaky valve to storage tank.
Pumping oil to main sump. 1001 Collided with USS BON HOMME RICHARD
(CVA31), all spaces reported no damage except FFR reported port hatch
sprung. Made routine inspections conditions as noted.
H. A. Wolf, MM1
Main Engine Operating Record:
0800-1200
Underway as before, except 0908 lit off #2 L.O. purifier, 0956 locked
port shaft, due to loss of L.O. pressure. 0957 secured #4 L.O. pump.
Lost of L.O. due to no L.O. in main sump.
All Conditions
Normal
A. Grathwohl, MM3
---------------------------------------
Repairs took place later in the morning and during the afternoon and
by evening the port shaft and engine were back on the line, despite a
second casualty in the mid-afternoon requiring again locking the port
shaft.
There were a number of communications following the collision,
including some which were very welcome and appreciated in personal
terms. For example, in response to Captain Edwards’ first report “I
have lost port engine due to lube oil casualty. Ships force working
like beavers. No personnel casualties. WT integrity intact,”
Comdesron 23 came back “Don’t worry about it. Keep your head up”.
Captain Reidy of the Picking flashed “Msg. CO and OOD. Sorry to see
your bad luck but would not worry about it”, and the skipper of the
BON HOMME RICHARD flashed “I know you couldn’t avoid it and it could
happen to anybody”. And upon receiving advice that the engineering
casualties had been repaired in fairly short order, Comdesron 23 came
back “That was excellent work restoring engineering casualties. Well
done to your black gang and others who worked like little beavers to
restore the Potter’s reputation of always ready to answer all bells.”
On October 18 the weather deteriorated, and before refueling was
attempted on the 18th the Task Group Destroyer Screen Commander sent:
“This is probably the worst weather conditions destroyers have
encountered for topping off, however it is apt to be common under
wartime situations. Every skipper present is an excellent seaman.
Use that seaman’s eye and destroyermen’s judgment to take it easy,
make it accurate, and expeditious.”
The Potter refueled from the Bon Homme Richard during the 1600-1800
watch on the 18th. Captain Edwards nearly always let the OOD then on
watch to keep the conn during refueling. Guess who had the deck on
the 1600-1800 bridge watch? If Captain Edwards was aware of my
knocking knees, he didn’t bat an eye. I doubt if anyone else was
relaxed with me having the conn for round 2 with the BHR, but the
Captain’s outlook meant everything to me at the time and has ever
since.
There were a number of communications over the next few days relating
to repairs and the investigation to be conducted when the Task Group
reached Yokosuka. On the 20th, Comcrudespac sent the following to
Comdesflotwestpac (Admiral Speck who was on board the Potter),
Comdesron 23 and Captain Edwards: “For your information, consider
operational readiness of Stephen Potter may be impaired. Without
additional details of damage and status of temporary repairs, consider
reported rupture main deck could cause progressive failure with the
possible loss of bow in heavy seas.” Captain Edwards’ terse response
said it all and reflected his pride in what the crew had accomplished
in repairing topside damage in heavy sea conditions: “Believe
operational readiness Stephen Potter unimpaired. Main deck rupture
result distortion of bitts port side during emergency breakaway.
Repairs effected by ships force. Stephen Potter has operated in heavy
weather in wake of Typhoon Jean for 48 hours since damage. No
apparent adverse affects. Ready to answer all bells.” Comdesron 23
was quick to support the Potter to Comcrudespac and Comdesflotwestpac,
while icing Admiral Speck in the process: “Fully concur in Stephen
Potter’s response. Comdesflotwestpac was embarked in Stephen
Potter.” Nothing further was heard on the subject.
The formal investigation, convened as a one-man inquiry, was on board
the Picking in Yokosuka on October 24. Designated as “interested
parties” were Captain Edwards, Bob Rappaport, the engineering officer,
Chief Machinist Corrigan, petty officers Wolf and Grathwohl, and
myself as OOD. The inquiry was conducted by Captain Reidy of the
Picking. I don’t recall the inquiry as lasting beyond several hours
or as being difficult. Everyone’s stories were straightforward and
factual, and Captain Reidy was in a fact-finding mode and not
prosecutorial in his questioning. The cause of the loss of lube oil
pressure was the improper seating of the purifier discharge valve to a
storage tank while purifying oil sump to sump. Examination of the
purifier valve showed marks indicating that a guide or foreign
particle had held it partially open. At the suggestion of the CTG
prior to the inquiry, the official casualty reports of the Potter and
the Bon Homme Richard had not gone higher than their respective
westpac commands. Towards the end of the inquiry, Captain Reidy
dismissed me as an “interested party.” I never heard officially what
happened to the others.
All in all it was a memorable experience but certainly one that no one
would ever wish to duplicate. It is incredible that no one fell or
slipped overboard, or was killed when the parted span cables and hoses
were whipping around. I was not aware that a crew member had fallen
down a hatch and had broken his leg until I saw it on our website.
All of the recollections there were good and brought back memories.
Jack Wolf was “in charge of” Admiral Speck while he was embarked on
the Potter and they were together in the wardroom at the time of the
collision. Jack says the Admiral was being complimentary about the
approach and the fueling, and Jack was showing pride in his cabinmate
who was the OOD, when there was a big crash. They ran on deck and in
the process the Admiral evidently caught his hand in a watertight
door, which mysteriously closed. (Jack – the statute of limitations
has run.)
I had never heard the Vicedomine rumor, but nothing would surprise me
in the rumor department. Vice was the JOOD and had taken the report
from the engine room that we had lost “brake oil suction to No. 2 main
engine” and the port shaft had been locked. By that time we had been
slipping rapidly astern. The fueling cables and hoses acted as spring
lines pulling us into the BHR (we were only 80 feet or so off the BHR
while refueling), and we had lost control. As an engineering matter,
promptly locking the port shaft in the circumstances of a lube oil
failure was a practical necessity and in accordance with the BuShips
Manual and Casualty Control Manual. All things considered, its hard
to view the collision as anything more than an unfortunate incident of
bad luck and, to the credit of Captain Reidy, Comdesron 23 and the
admirals in authority, that’s how it was dealt with.
Bob Hiden
November 2002 |
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From John Q.:
I have often been tempted to believe that the Navy has invented some
particularly fiendish ways to get even with sonarmen. One of these is
a device called a bathythermograph, or BT for short. The BT looks
somewhat like a rocket, but is actually a recording thermometer.
While the BT is
being lowered to a depth of three hundred feet, the depth and water
temperature are recorded on a smoked glass slide which can be read
later on a graph. When a boxful of slides has been accumulated,
it is sent to
somebody in the Pentagon or somewhere, who probably laughs and throws
the box of slides into the trash.
BT drops are
routinely done every four hours while the ship is at sea, regardless
of weather conditions. (I once lost a BT during a typhoon; it was
found on the fantail the next day.)
Usually, two
sonarmen will be sent to make a BT drop; one day , I was sent alone,
and during general quarters, at that.
When the BT was
down somewhere near 300 feet, mount 55
suddenly swung
around and stopped with the end of the barrel pointing directly over
my head, then BLAMM, BLAMM, blamm about five times.....I was deaf as a
rock for three days.
Unfortunately,
this was not an isolated incident; many ping-jockeys can tell the same
story. The Navy's second torture device is known as the FXR gear,
(pronounced "foxer"). This consists
of a series of parallel bars,
which are bolted together in pairs a fraction of an inch apart. When
towed behind the ship, the bars vibrate and set up an outlandish
racket which allegedly lures acoustic torpedoes away from the noise of
the ship's screws.
This device was not a bad idea for its time. The only
difficulty was in retrieving the foxer gear ,using a hand-cranked
winch.
On one occasion,
"Leif" Ericson and I were sent aft to crank the fxr back aboard. We
were convinced that the tow cable had suddenly stretched to a length
of at least several hundred miles when the ship suddenly sat down on
her haunches and started making turns for about thirty six knots.
That evening saw two very tired sonarmen ,both of whom had very low
opinions of the people on the bridge. |
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From Jack Wolf:
Since I was about to be discharged and my relief was on board when
"The Deep Six" was filmed, I acted as liaison with the film crew.
Alan Ladd offered to show his appreciation to us by hosting a party
for the entire crew. Personally, I felt it was rewarding in itself to
have the opportunity to pull liberty in San Francisco. I felt the
crowning achievement was steaming under the
Golden Gate Bridge:
I don't think there was a dry-eyed sailor in the crew.
From Bob Youngblood:
The cast was impressive; it included William Bendix, William Holden,
Alan Ladd, Ephraim Zimbalist Jr., Keenan Wynn, Jimmy Whitmore, Ross
Bagdasarian (aka "come on 'a my house" and the Chipmunks) and other
notables. How come it wasn't that good a flick?
From Barbara (Vicedomine)
Gorman
One of my father's favorite stories was of the filming of "The Deep
Six." He had been on quarterdeck watch and it was almost time for him
to be relieved when they started to film a scene where Alan Ladd
walked on board and my father saluted him. The director insisted that
my dad stay there, so when Alan Ladd walked back OFF, the same person
was there and it would look like it was just a few moments later and
appear consistent. Of course it took about six hours to film the
short conversation that Mr. Ladd's character had while on board. By
then, the tide had gone out and my dad was pretty wiped. My dad would
always laugh at how they cared who's saluting but didn't seem to worry
that it was high tide one minute and low tide the next. Naturally,
they cut the latter part of the scene anyway. That one salute remains
the extent of Vice's film career. |
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From Dave "Pogo"
Czulewicz:
When it was announced that we were going to be assigned to Burke's
"Little Beaver" squadron, they began to look for a drawing of the
Little Beaver. I had forgotten completely about the Red Ryder comic
strip and assumed that the beaver in question was the big-toothed
rodent predominant in the rivers of North America. I made the drawing
(in the "PHOTOS" section). Of course, it was turned down, and I was
apprised of the nature of the Little Beaver they were looking for.
The drawing was eventually obtained from a Japanese artist and mounted
on the stack. Sid Wentz, the gunnery officer, asked to see me after
quarters one day. He immediately started out by telling me to go to
the paint locker and get the materials required to do the lettering on
the stack. He had seen my sketch and knew I was somewhat of an artist.
At that time, the entire sonar gang was restricted to the ship for
some offense which I cannot remember. I got really huffy and started
refusing to do the lettering. When Mr.Wentz threatened to make it an
order, I replied that nothing in my service jacket indicated that I
was an artist and that, though he could order me to do the lettering,
he couldn't order me to draw a straight line. We argued for some time
and I aired my complaints about the restriction. Finally he gave up
and started to walk away swearing. At that point I called to him and
volunteered to do the lettering. This had to be 1956. I don't believe
Mr.Wentz made the 1957 cruise.
From Jack Wolf:
Now For the Rest of the Story...
Although Pogo's emblem of the little beaver biting into a submarine
never officially became the ship's emblem it was mysteriously
resurrected from the cutting room floor. In a gesture of
comradeship Pogo arranged to have shoulder patches made in Japan and
gave them to members of the "sonar gang". Years later his emblem
became misconstrued as the official ship's emblem. Jerry Bessler
tells the story that he purchased a print of the Potter that
depicted Pogo's artwork as the official ship's emblem.
For those of us who served on the Potter in the mid-fifties when
the Potter was part of DesRon 23 we thought the "The Little Beavers"
emblem was the ship's emblem when in fact it was the squadron's
emblem. The official ship's emblem pictured a dragon throwing
hedgehogs while sitting astride the ship's bow. Several years later
the emblem evolved into the version with a dragon throwing hedgehogs
while sitting side saddle on the ship's bow. All four emblems can
be seen in Photo Gallery#11.
For more information on Destroyer Squadron 23,
pleas click the following link:
www.globalsecurity.org/military/agency/navy/desron23.htm
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