Remembering My Ship

     More Letters From Paradise
       Remembering My Ship
All of this happened some sixty years ago, and this is how I remember it.

My orders read that I was to report to the U.S.S. Tarawa CV 40 (Essex Class), built in 1945, an aircraft carrier berthed at Quonset Point, Rhode Island. The ship was named for the famous bloody battle fought by the Marines in the Pacific during WWII.

Lugging my seabag I climbed the tower stairs and,  as custom dictates, requested permission to come aboard. When granted, I handed the duty  officer my orders. A sailor from the photo lab was sent for, to escort me to where I would berth and stow my uniforms. Photographers shared a compartment on the 02 or 03 deck in the Island with Xerographers (weathermen). The compartment had a single porthole. Small square lockers for uniforms,  and all around were racks reaching from deck to the overhead. These were canvas sheets laced to pipe frames. Each sleeping place had a thin pad with a white cotton cover that sailors called a "fart sack." These racks were all chained up during the day and were only brought down when the ship's work for the day had ended. I was assigned the top bunk which made me happy as I had to climb over those below me. I soon discovered that the steel beam above me was a perfect place for my wallet and cigarettes. During rough weather you could wrap your arms around one of the chains holding up the rack. In the compartment were a couple of large canvas bags in which everyone tossed his dirty uniforms. Every item of clothing a sailor owned was stenciled with his service number. My number was 4553595. So the clothing returned from the laundry was easily sorted.
 
Next to the sleeping compartment were the showers and toilet. A Navy shower at sea consisted of rules. First turn on  the shower and get wet, then turn it off and soap down. Then rinse, and turn the shower off. While in port you could use as much fresh water as you wanted.

The toilet consisted of a long stainless steel trough about two feet deep with divided seats set above a constantly running stream of water. I was to learn that sometimes as a joke, a wad of paper would be set blazing and sent down the rushing water under those seated. Or as the divided seats were set on pegs, it was easy to lift the seat off the pegs unknown to the guy when trying to sit down.

The photo lab was located on the hanger deck just below the flight deck where planes with their folded wings were tied down to rings in the deck. Sometimes movies would be shown on the hanger deck. During night operations when only red lights were allowed, sometimes a guy would fall into the elevator pit and get hurt. All doors leading outside had a trip lever that shut off all flights when the door was opened. After the door closed the lights again came on. Pilots landing in the dark must only see a row of landing lights. No other lights must be seen.

One other thing before I discuss the photo lab and what it was we did. This was the "Mail Buoy." A really dumb sailor would be convinced that there was a mail buoy way out here in the sea that would have mail that would have to be picked up. The victim  was taken to the fantail (end of the ship) and given a steel helmet, lifejacket, and a long boat hook. He was told that it was his job to hook the mail bag as we passed. Good for a few laughs.

The photo lab as I have said was located on the hanger deck. Inside was an office with desk and chair. And all along one side ran a counter under which guys could put their personal stuff. Above the counter were two port holes. Across the deck on the other side was a refrigerator in which to keep film. Ha! More often it was filled with blocks of cheese, gallon cans of strawberries  and such. The Engineering Officer who wanted his film developed would stop  by for a snack. A couple of other officers did so too. We made a deal with the with the cooks and  bakers, while  guys in the pipe shop made doughnuts with a blowtorch and shared with us. Some bakers wanted to play poker or shoot craps would use one of our darkrooms to play where they wouldn't get caught. Imagine a fresh loaf of bread with a pound of melting butter inside.
But life aboard was not all tea and cookies. The Tarawa was a war ship, at this period of history  called the "Cold War." An American U-2 spy plane was shot down by the Russians, the Russians were placing guided missiles in Cuba, and children in schools were being taught how to duck and cover under their desks in case of a nuclear attack.

The role played by my ship and a sister ship the U.S.S. Wasp was to protect the east coast of America. We would stay out 200 miles which is our territorial limit, and patrol from Halifax Nova Scotia to Mayport, Florida. A period of patrol was thirty days or more, until relieved by the U.S.S. Wasp.

Our task was to discover Russian submarines and if ordered, destroy them. The Tarawa carried a number of S-2F anti-submarine aircraft. These were twin-engine planes carrying sonar buoys and depth charge bombs. When a submarine was located, a pilot would release a number of long sonar buoys. When each buoy landed in the sea, a paper tape would break, holding a spring-loaded antenna that would pop up, and a microphone would descend into the ocean depth. A pattern could surround a sub and then a depth charge would be dropped to kill it.

Pictures of men on the flight deck of a carrier show that men are dressed in different colors. This is so   the captain and flight deck officer always know what is going on. Those wearing yellow are  plane captains and the flight deck officer,  responsible for each aircraft being launched. The color red is fuel and men with black means ordnance. Green is worn by catapult crew with the words "CAT" on the back. They hook the plane to the catapult that will sling the plane to the sky. And those also wearing green are photographers. With the words "PHOTO" on the back.  Depending the weather, both sweaters and tee shirts are worn, with color matching cloth helmets and tight-fitting goggles.

The flight deck and surrounding area was a dangerous place to be. We had a guy new to the photo lab and was assigned to one of our three positions, on the catwalk aft to cover the landings. A catwalk is a steel walkway three feet wide alongside the flight deck with a couple of strands of wire on the side. One plane landing caught a  cable causing it to break and whip around and cut  our guy in the head. He was very lucky, as   some accidents on other ships were very much worse. We visited him in sickbay and he recovered.

The one favored and safe position for photographers was on the 08 level in  a gun tub on the island. One day it was my turn to cover launches. Things were proceeding as usual when all of a sudden there was a huge noise behind me and I watched as a jet (sometimes we carried a few) flew past and went between two other jets making ready to launch, and then went over the side. My camera was a bulky K-20 which carried a roll of film 4 x5 inches wide. To take the picture you had to throw a lever forward and back to cock the camera. Then  pull the trigger to capture the picture. All I remember is cocking and pulling the trigger. The Angel (a helicopter kept ready ) picked  up the pilot, and as there was a hole in the wood flight deck, nothing was left to do. When I returned to the photo lab the chief asked if I got the picture, I said that I thought so. When developed and delivered to the captain, it showed that I had taken four pictures in the excitement of the moment. Everyone was well pleased and it showed why we were there.

And so it was, day after day, on patrol, launching aircraft and bringing them safely aboard. We had just returned from our time at sea when our sister ship the U.S.S. Wasp  berthed across from us, had a large fire in its hangar deck. We watched as body bags were carried ashore. And so just having ended our patrol, it was out to sea again.      
One final note about the different colors worn on the flight deck, The men who wore blue were the ones who with brute strength, pushed the planes into position so the pilot could taxi down the flight deck to the catapult. We called them "plane pushers." Not very nice of us, but accurate.

I have said a lot about launching aircraft, but what about bringing them home? This was the most dangerous job on the flight deck, when planes returning to the ship hope for a safe landing. Rising up from the deck were eleven cables and two barriers of nylon webbing and steel cables. In a normal situation, the plane landing with its tail hook would catch a cable and be brought to a complete stop. If not, the barriers would do the job. When planes were being taken aboard, the arresting gear men, also dressed in green, operated the cables from their place on the catwalk. On the port side on the very edge above the fantail was where the LSO (Landing Signal Officer) stood with two large paddles, threaded with bright ribbons, one for each hand. It was his job to guide the plane in for landing. He would move his paddles to tell the pilot the angle of his plane. If the plane was level, the LSO moved his paddles sharply down telling the pilot he is in position to land. If not, the pilot is waved off and has to go around and try again. The pilot of the plane trusts the LSO's signals because he is also a pilot. If the plane comes too close to him he can dive to a canvas platform and get out of the way.

An aircraft carrier is a floating city with a barber shop, dentist, doctors, ship's store stocked with wristwatches, razors, zippo lighters, candy, and cartons of cigarettes, a buck a carton. The ship is so large that below decks there are arrows on the bulkhead to tell you that you are either going forward or aft. The galley and large mess hall for the crew was located below decks, as well as sleeping compartments for crew. The quarters for the officers was known as "officer's country." The crew of my ship would have numbered 2000, whereas today the larger carriers carry twice as many men.

I was discharged in 1959, and requested permission to go ashore forever. I was a member of the last crew, as it was soon headed to Philadelphia to be scrapped.
History and literature have often shown, that a time spent at sea helped to make a man. And so it was with me.
   Aloha
   Grant