Sunday in Hell, page 86
Meanwhile, on shore several Monterey peninsula residents unknowingly witnessed the attack. A story in the Monterey Herald that evening said: “Scores of golfers playing seaside courses reported today they had observed the tanker with huge clouds of smoke pouring from her funnel, fleeing toward Santa Cruz and zigzagging wildly, but most of them thought little more about it.”
Although not reported anywhere else, according to the logs of the I-23, Commander Shibata wasn’t through that day, not yet. Not long after his unsuccessful pursuit of Agwiworld, the sub encountered “an old gunboat” a few miles out of Monterey, and another “chase” ensued. Although Shibata’s “old gunboat” turned out to be a harmless fishing boat, the Japanese still gave chase, firing intermittently from their 5.5-inch deck gun until registering a hit on the ship’s rudder. Leaving their victim going harmlessly around in circles, much to the glee of the enemy gun crew, I-23 put to sea.
Flagship of the Japanese submarine force attacking the West Coast shipping was I-15, on station forty miles west of San Francisco, off the Farallon Islands. Though Commander Nobuo Ishikawa’s logs indicate 1-15 made no sightings or attacks during its eight days on station, it possibly was involved in a slight collision on the 20th with an Oakland garbage scow, named Tahoe.
The 37-year-old converted lumber ship had dumped its weekly load of Oakland city garbage off the Farallons and was heading back for port. Telling the story of the encounter, the scow’s captain, William Vartnaw, said some of his crew sighted what appeared to be a periscope and part of a sub’s superstructure break water directly ahead less than 60 yards.
There wasn’t enough time to change course or stop, so the Tahoe ran into the sub, scraping its way across the hull to the other side. The crew raced to the stern to get another look at what they hit. Nothing could be seen. His ship leaking badly with an 80-foot-long gash torn in her hull, Captain Vartnaw was able to bring her safely to the Oakland Scavenger Service dry dock that night.
According to the 1992 writer of the story, “…the Navy refused to officially accept the [Tahoe crew’s] story. Besides, how would it look to the rest of the country - and the Navy - if the first blow to a Japanese sub had come from an old garbage scow?” Apparently ignorant of the enormous complexities, difficulties and outright terror associated with submarine and anti-submarine warfare, and of course, along with everyone else, equally ignorant of the losses and damage inflicted on the Japanese submarines operating in Hawaiian waters during the fourteen days beginning with the Japanese attack, he went on to add sarcastically,
Unmindful of the Navy’s stance on the matter, a newspaperman from the San Francisco Chronicle wrote the following poem in tribute to the old scow’s moment in the sun:
The Tahoe’s back on the job today,
She’s ruined a sub, her crewmen say;
The Tahoe rides the waves today,
A queen for sure in her own sweet way.
On the 21st, as Task Forces 15.2 and 16 plowed steadily northeast toward home, both commanders undoubtedly received coded warnings of submarine attacks, and locations of the attacks, as rapidly as information became available. The public was made aware with headlines in the San Francisco Chronicle and other coast newspapers: REPORT: SUBS STRIKE TWICE OFF COAST, and TANKER’S LIFEBOATS SHELLED BY JAPS, ‘RUTHLESS,’ SAYS CAPTAIN. Another claimed: PLANES ATTACK COAST RAIDER and TWENTY-TWO MISSING IN SEA RAID OFF COAST.27
Before the attacks off the California coast began the afternoon of the 20th, Joey, who wouldn’t learn of them until a day later, was in Honolulu shopping. When she returned to the apartment, she called Bob, and during the conversation told him she would go to the Morrisons’ quarters at Pearl Harbor to visit Barbara. The Morrisons had moved in during the week and Barbara was there helping her mother and father get their new home set up. After lunch she caught a bus to the Navy base.
Early to mid-afternoon, Joey and Barbara sat down near the living room window, which gave a clear view of Pearl Harbor - set up and began playing a game of acey-ducey. Soon engrossed in the game and conversation, they didn’t notice four destroyers proceeding at intervals down the main channel toward the harbor entrance. The first to get underway from Berth X-8, at 1430 hours, was the Tucker (DD-374), with her captain, Lieutenant Commander William R. Terrell at the conn. The Flusser (DD-368) followed, captained by Lieutenant Commander William G. Beecher, Jr, departing Berth X-11 five minutes later. Next came the Case (DD-370) from Berth X-8 at 1444, with her captain, Lieutenant Commander Robert W. Bedilion on the bridge. The last destroyer in the column moved away from Berth X-8 at 1453, the Conyngham (DD-371), with Lieutenant Commander Henry C. Daniel at the conn.
The frequent departures and arrivals of destroyers in Pearl Harbor were routine, and seldom gained notice. The number of their destroyer patrols had increased greatly since the 7 December attack, joining in a growing, steady stream of motor torpedo boats, submarines, mine sweepers, cruisers, the fleet’s three carriers, and support ships in and out of the harbor.28
Joey’s and Barbara’s conversation continued, dwelling on what their husbands seemed to be saying the past two or three days, when and where they might be going, and their plans to go home. Was it reasonable to expect the Tennessee and the remaining two battleships would be committed to war so soon after being struck by Japanese bombs? They could see the three great ships moored in the harbor. Tennessee and Maryland were in berths, bows-in, starboard sides to piers in the Southeast Loch, on the east side of the main channel - the same side of the channel as Pennsylvania, which was moored portside at her pre-attack berth at 1010 Dock, in the location temporarily occupied by the cruiser Helena when she was torpedoed. Oglala still lay forlornly capsized astern the battleship.
There had been much shifting of ships to different berths to accelerate repair, salvage, and previously-scheduled overhaul work. The torpedo-damaged cruiser Helena, had been moved into the drydock after Pennsylvania vacated it on the 12th. The oiler Ramapo vacated Berth 12 Pier 14, which Maryland moved into on the 10th. The cruisers Honolulu and San Francisco had been moved into dry dock, opening up Pier 17 for the Tennessee’s move on the 16th.29
The ladies could no longer board any of the ships to see for themselves the state of varnished wood quarterdecks, canvas shaded forecastles and quarterdecks, heavily painted hulls, brightly polished metal fittings, cleanly swept and mopped passageways, capped gun muzzles, and canvas covered guns. Gone were lunches and dinners in the wardrooms and movies on the decks under starry tropical skies. Gone were Sunday afternoon receiving lines and teas, calls and calling cards at senior officers’ quarters, the polite formalities sometimes scoffed at by both. Long-standing customs and traditions of the Navy, swept away, many of them forever.
Gone was golf at country clubs, tennis, picnics in the parks, dinners and dances at the Yard Club and Royal Hawaiian Hotel. Boating, surfing - gaiety. Gone, all gone. Time was terribly important now, life deadly serious, a matter of survival and catching fleeting moments of happiness. Guns were no longer silent. The staggering flow of funerals had begun. But now, on this Saturday afternoon, at one of the first light moments for Joey in nearly two shattering weeks, in the midst of a game of acey-ducey, surprise snapped them both from unpleasant thoughts and melancholy revelry.30
At 1542 hours, the battleship Maryland, with two tugs on her port side, began to move. She was underway, backing out of Berth 12 at Pier 14. From where Joey and Barbara were sitting, she was across the Southeast Loch, toward Hickam Field, moving slowly, stern first, generally toward them. Then she began to turn while backing, pushed and nudged by the tugs, slowly into the Loch, presenting her starboard side and hiding the tugs from anyone who might see her from the north. A pause, and then she began moving forward, toward the main channel, and turning to port.
Glancing up from their game periodically, Joey suddenly caught sight of Maryland, and called her to Barbara’s attention. A few short minutes later, she glanced again, certain, since the war had begun, the battleships would no longer sail singly. The Tennessee was moving. She reasoned correctly. At 1555, Tennessee, also with two tugs, Numbers 119 and 129, fore and aft on her port side, began backing and turning out of her berth at Pier 17. Joey and Barbara sat, quiet, both enthralled and at once let down again, while the slow motion drama unfolded before them. At 1600 the tugs guiding both Tennessee and Maryland cast off as Tennessee inched forward, ever-so-slowly, pointed toward the main channel, and as she approached a position abeam Pier 14, she too began turning to port, to fall in column astern of Maryland.
The two battleships had both eased past Pennsylvania, when at 1624, with Navy tugs 142 and 146 on her starboard side pulling, turning and guiding, she too began slowly moving away from 1010 Dock and forward into the main channel, toward the open sea. A majestic, breathtaking sight, and the end of an era. Presently, with the exception of the Colorado in Puget Sound Navy Yard for overhaul and modernization, they were only three survivors among nine of America’s Pacific battle line - and they were leaving Pearl Harbor. All three battleships would be changed, and never look the same.31
From an earlier, fading era they had come, like the more recent era of the great Pan American flying boats, the Clippers, now savaged by the leading edge of warfare in the modern era, of fast carrier task forces and the long range striking power of naval and land-based aviation, and the rapid construction of airfields on islands. Yet, these three battleships, plus West Virginia, California and Nevada were only bent, not broken. Resurrection was coming, but for now, neither Bob nor Joey knew where Tennessee, Maryland, and Pennsylvania were headed, or what the future held for the three great ships and the lives of two young people in love, and in war.
One by one they exited Pearl Harbor, and one by one began zigzagging, turning in column to westerly headings with Maryland as Task Force 16 guide. Patrolling, periodically zigzagging, watching, listening, and waiting for them outside the entrance to Pearl Harbor were the four destroyers, Tucker, Flusser, Case and Conyngham.
Destroyer Tucker (DD-374), submarine screen for Task Force 16. Off Mare Island Navy Yard, 14 March 1942. NAPR
Destroyer Flusser (DD-368), submarine screen for Task Force 16. Off Mare Island Navy Yard, 12 January 1942. NAPR
Destroyer Case (DD-370), submarine screen in Task Force 16. Off Mare Island Navy Yard, 20 February 1942. NAPR
The first to take station on the battleships was the last destroyer out of the harbor, Conyngham, on the inner submarine screen for Maryland. At 1644 Maryland began zigzagging using Plan No. 6, after turning on a base course of 255 degrees, and three minutes later Case was in position, screening on her starboard beam. At 1717 Maryland went to flank speed, while Flusser was closing at 25 knots to screen Tennessee, and was in position at 1721. At 1724 Maryland turned to 280 degrees, a course west northwest. One minute later she changed course to the right due to a submarine being reported by a patrolling destroyer not in the formation. Her crew heard depth charges being dropped as she commenced zigzagging again on the 255 base course. While Maryland was zigzagging, Tucker, the first destroyer in Task Force 16 to leave the harbor was the last of the destroyers to take up her screening position on the guide of the battleship column. Having left the possible enemy submarine far behind, Maryland, Tennessee and Pennsylvania and their four screens ceased zigzagging at 1826.32
Tennessee’s crew didn’t yet know their mission or destination, Captain Reordan probably withholding information until well clear of potential submarine attacks in the area near Oahu. Were they headed west for a raid on Japanese-held islands? If so, where and when? Were they going to rendezvous with a carrier task force? The westerly heading caused numerous questions, which for a few hours wouldn’t be answered - not until after Lieutenant Walt Stencil was on the bridge as Officer of the Deck. Undoubtedly there were mixed emotions to go with the questions. Many were ready to fight, eager to strike back at the enemy. The battle line had taken a terrible, humiliating, bloody beating, and suffered the heaviest losses of all the ships in the Pacific Fleet. Every battleship in the task force had been struck by bombs and bullets, all but these three by torpedoes, and all had taken casualties. The Tennessee had suffered less than others in the line, four killed and twenty-one wounded. Nevertheless, to strike back hard was the natural response.
Over two hours after the westerly heading was established, Maryland, with the Senior Officer Present Afloat, Rear Admiral William S. Anderson, signaled a starboard turn to 350 degrees. They were turning north to pass between Oahu and Kauai. Again, if Japanese submarines were on station in the Kauai Channel, and sighted the task force, they neither attempted to attack, nor reported a sighting. Then, at 2321 hours the formation turned further starboard, to slightly east of north, 010 degrees true. It appeared they might be going home, but uncertainty lingered.33
* * *
About an hour before dawn on the 21st, an army sentry at the tiny Hawaiian village of Spreckelsville, Maui, spotted a flare, bringing a detachment of troops of the 299th Infantry to investigate. At daylight, they could see a boat loaded with men approaching shore. The officer in charge ordered his men to “prepare to repel enemy landing party.” A few minutes later he rescinded the order, however, when they identified the occupants of the boat as civilians. They were what was left of the crew from the Matson Line freighter, Lahaina, sunk on 11 December by the Japanese submarine 1-9.
For exactly nine days, 15 hours and 30 minutes, according to Captain Matthiesen, the survivors rowed and sailed their over-crowded 20-foot lifeboat, until they reached Spreckelsville that morning. They had kept a daily log of their journey, telling of their perilous days at sea. It is a wonder they survived the ordeal.34
At 0545 hours on board Tennessee, still on base course 010 degrees true the morning of the 21st, general quarters sounded, and at 0611, as a precautionary measure Task Force 16 began zigzagging. At 0729 Maryland sighted a Catalina PBY, a long range patrol aircraft out of Oahu, off the port beam. More than hour after the PBY disappeared from view, and still plowing generally north at 0840 the Tucker reported sighting a submarine, bearing 330 degrees from Tennessee. The formation of three battleships and four destroyers began making various courses and changed to flank speed, 18 knots, then at 0858, began zigzagging again, followed by a reduction in speed to standard, 15 knots.
Once more during the day the formation zigzagged, but there were no more submarine alerts that day, no launching of scout planes, and at 1803, after holding a heading of due north, the formation turned right to 069 degrees. At 2000 hours the Conyngham left the formation to return to Pearl Harbor, singly. When she peeled out of the formation, the submarine screen adjusted positions, with the Case dead ahead of Maryland, Tucker on her port beam, and Flusser on her starboard beam. There could be no doubt. Task Force 16, less Conyngham, was going home. Puget Sound or San Francisco. Battle damage repair for the three dreadnaughts, probably modernization. Back to the mainland, at least temporarily.
Bob Border could relax, smile, take the assignment to Pensacola, and become a naval aviator. The hard, dark, painful days and terrible nights in Pearl Harbor were already beginning to fade, but would never go away. He would miss the Tennessee. Many of the ship’s crew would scatter to new assignments, many whose paths he would not cross again - but some he would see again. She was a good ship, filled with many wonderful memories of good men, his brother, Karl, and other good sailors, all with great pride in a great ship of the line. Tennessee would come out of overhaul and modernization a better, more powerful ship. She would be back. And Bob would be able to repay the Japanese by flying fighters. It would take time, but he would get there.
What’s more, Joey had told him on Saturday in their last phone conversation that when he left Pearl Harbor, she was going home as soon as she could be evacuated. Their promises to one another were paying off. He was certain he would see her again before too many days and weeks elapsed. They would be together again, and be able to visit with Joey’s dad and mother, Captain and Charlotte Springer, his dad and Missy in Mobile, not far from Pensacola. Seven or eight more days - or less, to the West coast.
The morning of the 21st, at 0700 hours, Task Group 15.2, composed of the cruiser Detroit, the destroyers Reid and Cummings, escorting Coolidge and Scott, was holding steady about 500 miles ahead and slightly east of Task Force 16, when the Reid left the formation to return to Pearl Harbor. When the destroyer left the formation, Scott held her position as convoy guide, with Coolidge astern, in column, destroyer Cummings on Scott’s port bow, and the Detroit on Scott’s starboard bow.35
On board Coolidge and Scott, life was less than pleasant for the wounded and their attending nurses and doctors. Water had to be conserved. No bathing for able-bodied passengers. There was a movie in a blacked out compartment the previous night, and the passengers, though crowded and still wrestling the heavy sea’s discomforts were making the best of a difficult, tense situation. But the doctors and nurses couldn’t avail themselves of the entertainment. On Scott Red Cross nurse Margaret Logan, described conditions they faced.
None of this small medical force had ever worked under such conditions and most of them felt utterly helpless, exhausted and desperate. Few, possibly, ever expected to reach their destination.
As the ship pitched and rolled, neither medications nor food could be given properly to a majority of the patients. Feeding alone took precious hours that seemed to never end as nurses patiently forced drop by drop or spoonful by spoonful of liquids through the blistered and bleeding features of men completely swathed in bandages.
