Excerpt from the Autobiography of Francis M. ,Perry, 1921 -

My Wartime Sea Duty As A U. S. Navy Radio Technician.

In this excerpt of my autobiography I have just put to sea in my first U. S. Navy assignment since leaving the Radio Technician training school at Navy Pier in the city of Chicago. I am now rated as a Radio Technician Second Class petty officer and am supposedly qualified to maintain and repair all sorts of electronic equipment aboard ship including the radio communication transmitters and receivers and radar equipment. This first voyage out of San Francisco is simply for the purpose of providing my transportation to my assignment with the U. S. Naval amphibious forces operating in the vicinity of the Philippine Islands. I am aboard a troop transport named the USS General Hershey and we have just left San Francisco.

Of even more importance in my life, while in Chicago I became engaged to be married to a Chicago girl named Charlotte Wiesen. We have set the date for our wedding for as soon as possible after my sea duty with the Navy is completed. As I write this autobiography some 60 years after this sea duty, most of my recollections are taken from the letters which I wrote to my future bride from the Pacific war theater, letters which she has carefully preserved.

During the war I was not allowed to write in a letter the security precautions that the ship had to take on this voyage. Our troop transport carried several thousand sailors. The threat of attack by Japanese submarines was considered to be possible, even in the waters near the California coast. And I guess the threat got worse the farther west we sailed. We were not a single ship but a convoy of several ships. Two or three destroyers accompanied us at all times. It was thrilling to see the destroyers, much faster than our transport, steam by us, sometimes cutting across our bow. I know now that they were operating their sonar systems, constantly searching beneath the surface of the ocean for possible submarines. And we did not sail on a direct course heading but we zig zagged in a random pattern. The purpose of the zig zag course was to make it much more difficult for a waiting submarine to know where to direct its torpedoes should it get a chance to fire at the transport. And, from time to time an American or Canadian aircraft would soar overhead giving us additional confidence that we were being cared for.

April 12, 1945. On board the USS General Hershey at sea. “The weather is wonderful, not too hot, not too cool. We must be getting very close to Hawaii. The ocean here is the bluest I’ve ever seen. I spent a good part of the day watching flying fishes skim out of the way of the ship. They can really fly! Their wings flutter like a humming bird’s wings. They are only about six inches long but some of them fly as far as two hundred yards. Sometimes we run through whole schools of them. Of course we can see for miles in all directions. Sometimes we can see rain squalls off in the distance but the sun will be shining brightly here where we are. At night the millions of stars are there, a pleasant sea breeze, the luminous glowing of the ships wake. With all that and a certain brunette with soft brown eyes (do you know the one I mean?), well, things would be much nicer.”

Friday the Thirteenth of April 1945. On board the USS General Hershey at sea. “Darling, There is a slight chance I can mail this letter soon. I’ll have it ready anyway. All morning we have been running through rain squalls. It keeps it from being too hot. I spent a good part of the morning in line waiting to get a book from the library. As soon as I got to the door, the library closed. So I still don’t have a book to read. We stand in line from 30 to 60 minutes for each meal. And then we have to eat standing up. But the food is pretty good.”

Saturday, April 14, 1945. On board the USS General Hershey in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. “Darling, Here we sit in Pearl Harbor and I can’t leave the ship. None of us can leave the ship. Can you imagine? I’m at the picturesque island of Oahu near Honolulu and the beach at Waikiki and the hula girls in grass skirts and I can’t get off the ship! What’s worse, I don’t think I’m going to be able to mail these letters. (Apparently the command will not risk the possible discovery of information by the enemy that might occur were mail from the sailors on this ship intercepted by the enemy.) And it’s hot today. Not as hot as it will be I expect but hot enough to be uncomfortable on this ship which just absorbs the heat the sun gives out. The shady green trees along the shore and the comfortable lawn chairs on the pretty green lawns sure look inviting from here. Yesterday as we sailed in we passed Diamond Head, the famous Waikiki beach, the Royal Hawaiian Hotel,. and the city of Honolulu itself. Oahu is really a beautiful island. Honolulu runs back from the shore right into beautiful mountains behind it. All morning the mountains have been covered with clouds. I love you darling, very much, FM.”

Sunday, April 15, 1945. On board the USS General Hershey in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. “My Darling, I attended the regular Navy church services today. There is some good to be gotten from these services. The sermons are usually pretty good as far as they go. Today the chaplain exhorted us to be more like Barnabas by giving a character sketch of him. But these chaplain sermons are noted for their aimlessness, for the preacher must give lessons that will suit all denominations and offend none. About all these services tend to do is make me homesick for my own church services.”

As I reread these letters more than 56 years later I’m surprised not to find any mention in them of the death of our President, Franklin D. Roosevelt. I distinctly remember that it was while we were at anchor in Pearl Harbor that we received the news of his death in Warm Springs, Georgia. Many of the younger sailors remembered no other president but him since he had been in office since 1932. I had worked in his administration in Washington, D. C. during part of 1940 and all of 1941. I had prepared officer promotion lists to be sent with his signature to the Senate when I worked in the War Department. I recalled seeing Mr. Roosevelt on several occasions. Once as I walked on Pennsylvania Avenue in front of the White House and drew near the driveway of the house, a limousine crossed the sidewalk right in front of me. President Roosevelt and Prime Minister Churchill sat in the back seat. Mr. Roosevelt had his cigarette holder and cigarette protruding from his mouth and Churchill had a cigar protruding from his mouth. In Pearl Harbor that day we wondered who will command the war now? We felt sorry for the new President, Mr. Truman, for we knew that he had not been part of Mr. Roosevelt’s inner circle.

April 17, 1945. On board the USS General Hershey at sea. “My Darling, I missed a day writing to you. But I was thinking of you just as much. ... I’ve already mentioned in a previous letter that we stopped once. (I was thinking that all references to Pearl Harbor may have been censored from my previous letter. We were constantly warned not to give away our location in letters back home. But seldom was anything ever cut out of my letters.) Well, we’re moving again now. I didn’t get to mail a single letter so I’ll just continue this one on and you’re due for a book when you do get it. While I think of it, you can write me airmail for 6 cents now. (The airmail stamp must have been reduced in price.) Last night we had some boxing matches. Because of the crowd I could hardly see. We are to have a variety show coming up soon by local talent. I’m beginning to get tired of reading. One book I’m reading now is Papini’s ‘Life of Christ.’ ... I’ll send you the money to buy an engagement ring as soon as I’m paid. You see, it’s been some time and will be more time before I’m paid again. I’ll send $150.00, Darling. I’d like to send much more but please don’t take the money as a measure of my love for you. There isn’t enough money in the world for that. I love you, FM.”

Thursday, April 19, 1945. On board the USS General Hershey at sea. “My Darling, Whew! I didn’t realize there was so much water in the world. It’s really just a huge complete desert because nothing grows. There’s no water to drink. You have to commence the journey with enough water and provisions to get all the way across in one try. ... The monotony was broken a little today for I was put to work, actual work. I was unlucky enough to be in my compartment when an officer went through looking for a work detail. It’s just a cleaning job, washing walls and swabbing decks. But it does make the day pass faster. I have to go back to work again tomorrow. ... I’d like to hear all about our friends in Chicago and I know you are writing me about them. Sometime, not too far away, I’ll get your letters. The fellows here on the ship are about the same as anywhere else I’ve been, I guess. I don’t make friends very easily. Of course, I’m friendly with everyone and am carrying on a conversation with someone all the time. But I don’t really get to be friends with any of them. I love you. FM”

Saturday, April 21, 1945. On board the USS General Hershey at sea. “Darling, Today is Saturday, tomorrow is Monday. Thar ought to tell you where we are today. I can’t say exactly but somewhere in the middle of the Pacific ocean. We’ve been gone for days and days without seeing land and we’ll be out several more days before we see any. And it is hot. Just like midsummer in Alabama. It’s especially hot in our compartment. We’re allowed to sleep on deck now, if we wish. It’s cooler. ... I’m off work detail now and probably won’t have to work anymore. But they nearly finished me off yesterday. We had to crawl down a huge ventilator and clean it out. The dust was terrible. It got in our eyes, nose and mouth and nearly stifled us. We were black when we got out and our clothes were filthy. At least we earned a nice fresh water shower. Our regular showers are salt water and you can’t get clean under one of them. ... I’m always missing you, all day every day. All my love, FM”

Sunday, April 22, 1945. On board the USS General Hershey at sea. “Darling, They were supposed to skip Sunday but decided to skip Monday instead. I love you with all my heart. FM”

There are a few letters missing from our archives for the next letter I now have is dated May 8, 1945 from Samar Island where I spent a day on land after arriving in the Philippines. During the period between April 22 and May 9, shortly after we crossed the international date line, we sailed into the atoll at Eniwetok in the Marshall Islands and dropped anchor for two days. I simply remember being surrounded by low lying small green islands. The main island had an aircraft runway and planes were operating from it. Of course, we were not allowed to leave the ship nor to mention the stop in our letters. A week later we stopped in the Palau Islands where we observed some United States military aircraft apparently strafing enemy forces on a large mountainous island near our anchorage.

May 8, 1945. Receiving Station, Samar Island, Philippines. “My Darling, We disembarked from the ship yesterday, somewhere in the Philippines. You know approximately where I am. However, notice my new F.P.O. number. I’ll probably be here only a short while and then I’ll go to a ship. We live in tents here, practically out in the open. And I have to walk about a mile for each meal. We are very near a native Filipino village but I haven’t visited it yet. Dearest, I got seven letters from you yesterday. It was wonderful. I love you with all my heart. FM”

May 9, 1945. On board an LCI, San Pedro Bay, Leyte Gulf, Philippines. “My Darling, We disembarked on one of the Philippine Islands but I only got to stay ashore for one day. We were brought ashore in a landing barge just like the Marines only there were no Japs taking pot shots at us. I got to see quite a few natives and one little town. The natives look just like the Filipinos in the States that you have no doubt seen. They speak only a few words of English but are very friendly. They seem prosperous and many of them work on war construction jobs. Most of them wear no shoes for they are hard to get right now. They usually are good traders. Many come out about four miles in their canoes to trade with us on the ship. For a few bananas the silly sailors would give them their shirts, or their mattress or blanket or most anything. On the other hand I saw one sailor on shore sell a pair of dungarees, worth about $2.00, for the equivalent in pesos of about $25.00. All this trading is illegal but it goes on anyway. Many of the good hearted sailors give away part of their gear. All the native kids are wearing mostly G. I. clothes and act just like kids in the States. When we passed them on the road they said ‘hello baby’ or ‘hello Joe.’ One little boy gave me a coconut and said ‘melly Christmas.’ In the village there is an ancient Catholic church. I didn’t see the inside but was told that it was magnificent. ... I’m now aboard an L.C.I. (Landing Craft, Infantry, a small but very sea worthy ship) going to another island. Then I’ll go aboard another receiving ship, get a new address, and some time in the future actually get aboard the ship on which I’m going to have my own duty. That will be a swell day. ... We heard that yesterday was VE day and that the celebration in the States was momentous. But there was no celebration here. Most of the sailors didn’t even know it was VE day, and if they had been told, would have laughed and said they thought the war in Europe had been over a long time. A celebration would have meant nothing here where there is at least a couple more years of war. But maybe Japan will surprise us and capitulate early. We all hope so but are afraid to voice such a hope. My new address is Com. Ad. Com., 7^th Phib. Forces, c/o FPO, San Francisco,. Calif, All my love, FM”

May 11, 1945. On board the USS Henry T. Allen anchored in San Pedro Bay, Leyte Gulf. “My Darling, I worked harder today than I’ve ever worked in my Navy career. We were loading supplies onto our ship and we worked very hard for about 10 solid hours. Consequently I’m ready to hit the sack. But I’ve got to tell you about my new address, etc. I’ve been transferred to another ship (a large receiving ship) and this still isn’t the last. I’m definitely in the Seventh Amphibious Forces and my final duty will probably be on a landing ship of some sort. We Radio Technicians are going to have another week or so of school and then we’ll get our own ship. They also need someone to do the dirty work aboard this ship and I’m getting my share of it. But I’m not kicking. The bunks are good, the food good, and we get all the fresh water we can use. I can even catch up on my washing now. It will be a luxury to wear clean clothes again. All my love, FM.”

May 13, 1945. On board the USS Henry T. Allen anchored in San Pedro Bay, Leyte Gulf. “My little Darling, Well, I’m as well off as I’ll ever be. I have a soft bunk, good chow, a chocolate milk at the canteen, and a movie later tonight. And they keep us busy with work. It’s all right with me because the time passes faster that way. But the work is plenty hard. It’s all stevedore work, loading and unloading cargo. Every other day I go to school to study the specific radio equipment I am to be responsible for. It’s really not bad at all.”

May 14, 1945. On board the USS Henry T. Allen anchored in San Pedro Bay, Leyte Gulf. “My Darling, Today is one of my work days. But I hope you won’t be ashamed of me when I tell you I’m not working. They made some error somewhere and assigned everyone to work chipping paint but didn’t assign me. So I’ve been fooling around all day doing practically nothing. I wrote my brother a letter. Wrote to Bro. Ritchie (a minister and former teacher) yesterday. Say, tell me Bobby’s address. (Bobby is Charlotte’s brother who is in the army somewhere in the Philippines). I might sometime be close to his outfit. I don’t expect to move anywhere except closer to Japan,. but we might go almost anywhere. ... I spend a long time rereading all your letters. I’ve received 16 letters from you in all and the latest was numbered your 30^th letter. So you see I have quite a few more to yet receive. ... Now as summer comes don’t go and get yourself sunburned. You don’t need to catch up with me on the sun tan business. You couldn’t anyway. I’m black now and I’m getting blacker if such a thing is possible. I like your soft milk white skin. I’ll get enough sun tan for the both of us. All my love forever, FM.”

May 17. 1945. On board the USS Henry T. Allen anchored in San Pedro Bay, Leyte Gulf. “Darling, A movie every night for me. That’s better than in the States, isn’t it? We have a screen strung up on deck and a different movie every night. Tonight I saw “Together Again” with Irene Dunn and Charles Boyer. I had seen it before. I was just trying to remember if I saw it with you. Have you seen it? ... Well it’s so hot down here at my bunk tonight I just can’t stay here. I’ll take a couple of blankets up on top deck and sleep. I’ve gotten so it doesn’t matter where I sleep. On the trip over here I slept many nights on the bare deck, no blankets or anything, and believe me, I slept good! I’m rather proud of myself. It’s really convenient to be able to sleep that way.”

May 18, 1945. On board the USS Henry T. Allen anchored in San Pedro Bay, Leyte Gulf. “My Darling, ... It’s the same here. I’m working pretty hard and still waiting to be assigned to my own ship. Some of my work is chipping paint, swabbing decks, loading and unloading small boats. Believe me, no one can say we’re not working our way. We sometimes wonder why they made us Second Class Radio Technicians if they are going to break our backs before we get a radio. But it isn’t too bad. ... Tomorrow, Sunday, I may get a chance to go ashore. But there’s not much there once one gets ashore but at least it’s a change. I can go swimming, I guess. The water way out here is not too good for swimming. There might be sharks in it. But over on the beach it should be nice. Most of the fellows want to go ashore because they can buy beer there. ... Guess what? I finally got paid. And a lot of money in one slab. I’ll send the money for the ring as soon as I can find a way to send it. I don’t think I can buy money orders from the post office aboard this ship due to censorship regulations or something. I don’t know exactly why. I’ll send it as soon as I can. I love you. FM.” (Apparently I didn’t remember or care to think about the fact that this day was my birthday!)

May 19. 1945. On board the USS Henry T. Allen anchored in San Pedro Bay, Leyte Gulf. “Darling, It’s Sunday afternoon and I just came back from the recreation party on the beach. We stayed ashore only about three hours but I had a very good time. We were at a tiny native village. The natives had arranged a dance for the visiting sailors. All the young girls of the village were there and an orchestra too. The girls were dressed in their finest long dresses. This was no ordinary dance. They charged the sailors $2.00 a dance. They didn’t get many sailors to come in but a few did. The dance was held in an open pavilion and we all crowded around to watch. The music was provided by a battered trumpet, trombone, and two guitars. The piece I heard sounded like a Polish polka in a minor key. We walked thru the village and down the beach past lots of native houses. At one house I met a little boy about three years old. He was running around quite unashamed in his birthday suit. They have no diaper problems over here. The youngsters don’t wear pants until they are about four years old. The minute we hove into sight the little naked boy hollered, “Hello Joe, Got chew gum.” And he repeated that about 60 times before we got out of sight. ... At another house we met three kids. They could speak a little English and seemed very smart. We asked them their names and they said Juan, Pedro and Antonio. Their ages were 10, 12, and 14. One climbed a coconut tree and got some coconuts for us. Then they laughed and laughed at us because, they told us later, the coconuts were green (and we didn’t know the difference). Later, we went swimming and then came on back to the ship.”

May 21, 1945. On board the USS Henry T. Allen anchored in San Pedro Bay, Leyte Gulf. “Dear little sweetheart, Now I’m one of the happiest guy aboard this ship! Because I got some mail from my darling. Three letters, your 20^th, 21^st, and 22^nd. I had already received some written after these, so these sort of helped to fill in and lift my morale about as high as it can go unless I were told I was going home. ... I went ashore again today on a working party. We spent the day there. It was really interesting to observe the civilian population. We drove several miles inland. Of course, the highlight of the day was getting mail from you. ... I heard some fellows say today that they were going home. One of them has been over here 37 months without going home. The standard policy is to send each sailor home to stay, or for a leave, after 18 months duty over here. Looks like I’ve got a long time to go. I hope the war is over before then. But we can’t expect too much.”

May 22, 1945. On board the USS Henry T. Allen anchored in San Pedro Bay, Leyte Gulf. “My Darling, Today I finished my schooling here. It didn’t amount to much. It shouldn’t be long until I am transferred to a permanent assignment on some ship in the Seventh Amphibious Force. I’ll probably move to a different location then, maybe stay in the Philippines, maybe not. I don’t know. I have to report back to work at 9 PM tonight for some kind of loading work. We really get some long hours sometimes. ... To me the prospects look pretty good. Japan is already defeated and she knows it. It’s only a matter of her trying to get a peace short of unconditional surrender. From Okinawa we can reduce Japan to rubbish from the air. I hope it won’t be necessary. I hope Japan gives up soon. The government in Japan now is one that advocates peace. I think they will soon surrender. Maybe I’m wrong. We’ll see. ... As soon as I’m out of this Navy I don’t want anything else to do with the war or the Navy Department. However I’m in the Naval Reserve for ten years after the war is over. That doesn’t necessarily mean anything, but it was in there when I was drafted and I had to sign it. ”

May 23, 1945. On board the USS Henry T. Allen anchored in San Pedro Bay, Leyte Gulf. “My Darling, Remember yesterday I told you I had to go to work at 9 PM. Well, I did and the work lasted until 4 AM. We were told we wouldn’t have to work long!! But they allowed us to sleep in today. I heard a rumor that we get to work in the post office from now on until we are assigned to our ship. It will be more agreeable work.”

May 26, 1945. On board the USS Henry T. Allen anchored in San Pedro Bay, Leyte Gulf. “My Darling, The day is here, my happy day! I got another bundle of mail today. Five letters from you and one from my mother. Oh, it’s wonderful to read your letters. Mama is pretty good, but she has stomach trouble that is a source of worry to me. She has ulcers and one time, long ago, she was in bed for about six months. She has never had another breakdown like that one but she has some trouble all the time. She has to work so hard. She shouldn’t have to work at all.”

May 27, 1945. On board the USS Henry T. Allen anchored in San Pedro Bay, Leyte Gulf. “Dearest Sweetheart, It’s Sunday morning here and I have nothing to do until 11:00 AM. Then I have to go to work in the Post Office. I hope I get some more mail from you today. It’s still Saturday night back there in Chicago and you are probably just going to bed. I wish I were there to give you a good night kiss. Pleasant dreams anyway.”

May 30, 1945. Aboard Fletcher Class Destroyer en route to Morotai. “My Darling, I’m finally getting some action. I mean I’m on the move again. I left the receiving ship in the Philippines, went aboard another LCI for a night and now I’m aboard one of Uncle Sam’s sleekest and newest destroyers. When I get to mail this I will be on my way to (destination cut out of my letter, but it was the island of Morotai about 400 miles south of the Philippine Islands). I’m only a passenger aboard this destroyer. I’m trying to find the ship to which I’m assigned, the USS LSM (Landing Ship Medium) #53. Life aboard a destroyer isn’t bad for members of its crew. But it definitely wasn’t built to carry passengers. We passengers, some 50 of us, eat with the crew and use their wash rooms. But there is absolutely no place for passengers to sleep except on the bare deck. So that is where I sleep with a life preserver for a pillow and a raincoat for a mattress. Luckily, I’m just about used to sleeping like that and it isn’t too much of a hardship. I can’t mail this until we get to our destination.”

I was not able to write that for three days on the destroyer en route to Morotai the crew engaged in target shooting practice. A plane flew back and forth over the destroyer every day towing a target behind it. The crew then peppered away at the target with every gun on board including 5 inch cannon. The noise was not only deafening, it was dangerous to the ear drums to be on deck without ear protection. We passengers all stuffed cotton in our ears and huddled below deck most of the time. It was hot below deck. When practice was over we could come on deck and cool off. I slept outdoors on deck and it was cool sleeping except that there were rain showers for a while every night. When it rained I huddled in a passage way below deck where there was not room to stretch out. A destroyer is crowded enough when it has only a full complement of crew, but with passengers it is definitely over crowded.

Permanent Duty Aboard Landing Ship Medium, USS LSM 53.

June 2, 1945. On board USS LSM 53 anchored at Morotai. “Darling, Finally I’m aboard my own ship and about to get settled down. It’s wonderful just to settle down and have a bunk to sleep in. This LSM is a pretty good ship. I’m more than well satisfied with my job. When I get myself squared away and get a good working knowledge of the equipment we have aboard, time will probably hang heavy on my hands. I was worried for fear they would kick me out of the radio room and put me to work on some deck detail. That has happened to some Radio Technicians I know. But the communications officer to whom I report wants me to work into the radio operator’s work (when I am not busy on technician work). That is O. K. with me for I want to learn as much of the radio room work as possible. The Radioman aboard is a swell fellow. He has taken me right in hand and is showing me the ropes. ... It looks like I arrived aboard just in time. We may be moving again soon and this time we may get a little excitement out of the trip. I’ll write you about it after it’s over.”

June 4, 1945. Underway at sea aboard USS LSM 53. “Darling, We’re underway at sea now and believe me this little LSM rolls something awful. The weather is calm now but I hate to think what this ship will do in a heavy sea. I’m only concerned about the possibility of getting sea sick again. I’m finally settled down on my own ship and I’m pretty well satisfied with my job. I’m still learning the equipment I have to maintain and also learning the work of the Radiomen. So I’m busy.”

June 7, 1945. Underway at sea aboard USS LSM 53. “Darling, I haven’t written you for the past few days because I’ve been sea sick. It is a bit calmer now and perhaps I’m getting some used to the ship’s motion. Tomorrow we have a field day. That is, we all turn to and clean up the ship. We wash down the walls, decks, etc. Hint: We always have a field day just before big battles, invasions, inspections, etc. We may see a little excitement in a day or so. But it doesn’t promise to be very dangerous so please don’t worry. I love you. FM.”

June 8, 1945. Underway at sea aboard USS LSM 53. “My Darling, How are you this fine morning? It’s evening over here and the day is already spent but you are just beginning it. I only have about ten minutes before lights out. We turn out the lights at 8:00 PM when we are underway. And we don’t have to get up until 6:00 AM so that gives me 10 hours of sleep. Just what I need. Almost all day I’ve been working on the ship’s audio amplifier/loudspeaker system. I’m wondering how you are. There’s no way for me to know right now. I don’t know when I’ll get mail again. And, darling, I still haven’t had a chance to get that money order to send to you. Gee, I’m sorry because I want so much for you to have that ring. I love you. FM.”

June 13, 1945. Aboard USS LSM 53 beached at Brunei Bay. “My Darling, Once again I’ve been so busy I didn’t have time to write. I still have the last three letters I wrote to you. No chance to mail them yet. ... The excitement is over for the time being and there really wasn’t much excitement to it. The most interesting thing that happened in the last few days was the time a small boat landed beside us while our ship was on the beach. Out of the small boat stepped General MacArthur. If you see a newspaper or newsreel picture of MacArthur stepping ashore look for a ship right behind him with a big 53 on the bow. That’s us, LSM 53. Maybe you’ll see a picture of fellows up to their necks in water passing supplies to the shore from the open bow doors of the ship. If that’s not us, it will be just the way we did it. We unloaded our own ship once and I was standing in waist deep water for half the day handling supplies. We had a good swim when the unloading was done. ... Since leaving California I’ve visited Pearl Harbor, Eniwetok, Palau,. Leyte, and Samar. I can’t mention where I am now or where I’m going. All my love, FM.”

June 15, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “Dearest, The days seem to drag by and yet when I look back they seem to have passed pretty fast. Our trips from place to place take quite some time because our ship only pokes along at about six knots in convoy. Each trip takes about a week and that divides the time up, makes it seem to pass fast. ... I’m reading a new book called “We live in Alaska” by Constance Helmericks. You ought to read it. Its good. ... Enclosed is some Jap money issued in the Philippines. The little bill is money printed by the Philippine Guerillas in opposition to the Japs. Also a small Jap coin.”

June 18, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “My Darling, Something very wonderful just happened. A fellow came aboard with two sacks of mail. And there were nine letters from you and one from my father. The letters were pretty recent too, all dated in May and some late in May. And now I’m walking on air. ... Say, which of your brother’s addresses is right? You gave me APO 159, but the Church Bulletin you sent me said APO 926. I suppose APO 159 must be the latest. I’ll enquire as to the location of these APO’s. I believe we are very close to them. ... Well, I was in my first invasion. It didn’t amount to much. There were no casualties to our ship or any of our men. It was just about as safe as crossing a busy street in Chicago. So don’t worry about me a bit. I already wrote about seeing General MacArthur, didn’t I? All my love and a million kisses. FM.”

I can tell the details now, as much as I can remember. The invasion in which I took part turned out to be the last one of the war but we didn’t know that then. Our LSM was loaded at Morotai Island with Australian infantry soldiers and their transportation, some 30 or so small Jeeps. (In the early part of the war we called these small vehicles Peeps.) These vehicles were “jury rigged” so the engines would run hopefully under water. This was to take care of the possibility that if the LSM could not run its bow far enough onto the beach to disembark the vehicles on dry land, the vehicles might run a few yards through the water that might be encountered between the ship’s ramp and the dry beach. The soldiers wanted to be able to speed away in their Jeeps as quickly as possible after disembarking from the LSM. It took a couple of days underway from Morotai for the LSM to reach the invasion beach head. During this time the Aussie soldiers were tinkering with the “jury rigged” mechanisms which were attached to the top of the Jeep engines to enable the engines to “breathe” air and output the engine exhaust high up in the air above the possible water level. The soldiers were continuously starting and stopping the engines to test their ability to run.

The invasion beach was on the northeast coast of the very large island that I used to know during my school days as Borneo. It was an area of Borneo which had been by-passed during the early years of the war when the Allied Forces island-hopped northward towards the Philippine Islands. The invasion was to occur on a beach of Brunei Bay near a town called Labuan. This beach is now either a part of Malaysia or of the small Kingdom of Brunei.

The invasion fleet consisted of about 400 ships including 5 Heavy Cruisers, several Destroyers and Destroyer Escorts, and a large number of Troop Transports, LSTs, LSMs, and LCIs to transport and disembark Australian soldiers onto the beach head. The beach had been reconnoitered and each LSM had a chart which showed on which part of the beach it was to land, the water depth, and the slope of the beach. This was information necessary for the LSM skipper to have to determine the speed of the vessel in approaching the beach and where to drop the stern anchor of the LSM so that it later could extract itself off the beach.

One evening as we sailed at sea approaching Brunei Bay I had no watch duties, and not knowing when we would reach our destination, I retired to my bunk to sleep. I expected to be waked up by an alarm signaling us to “battle stations” long before we reached the invasion area. I woke up early in the morning and saw daylight coming through the hatch. We were no longer underway. So I jumped out of my bunk and hurried topside. The invasion fleet was lying stationary there all around us, just off the shore four or five miles. My LSM had only the standard watch on deck. Most of the crew were asleep. I noticed that there was a similar lack of activity on board the other vessels of the fleet. I was amazed for I thought everyone on every vessel would be up and at battle stations when we were this close to the enemy shore. The thought went through my head that the commander of this fleet must have felt rather certain that there would be little or no enemy opposition here.

As I surveyed the ships all around us I had a premonition to look up. Perhaps it was the very faint sound of an airplane engine I thought I heard. Then I saw a speck in the sky, almost too high to be visible. When the speck was directly over the fleet it made a sharp turn to retrace its path. At about that time I saw a geyser of water shoot up near a Destroyer several hundred yards away and then I heard an exploding bomb. It didn’t seem to cause damage to any ship but I learned later that a sailor aboard the Destroyer was killed. I looked back up and the aircraft had disappeared. No one had fired a shot or had even detected the aircraft before the bomb drop. (Later we discussed the appearance of that airplane and the single bomb drop. Intelligence had reported that the Japanese forces on Borneo no longer had any aircraft left. The general consensus was that the enemy had somehow pieced together parts of several old aircraft and had resurrected a single aircraft that would fly.)

It was several minutes before there was any noticeable response from any ships of the fleet. I heard an alarm sound on a nearby ship and at least a few ships went to “general quarters.” I don’t remember what our ship did. We probably went to “battle stations.” My station was in the radio room. I stood on deck just outside the door of the radio room for most of the exercise that day and watched the activity. At a predetermined time that morning the cruisers and the destroyers began a bombardment of the landing beach. The big guns were firing over our heads from a position several miles farther at sea. We could hear the individual shells as they whistled over us. The beach became one mass of erupting dirt and smoke and it appeared from our viewpoint that not a single square inch of the beach was left untouched. I remember that when we reached the beach an hour or so after the bombardment I was surprised that much of the beach seemed relatively untouched. There were a holes here and there where shells had exploded.

The landing ships went in to shore a few at a time. But within an hour or so all the LSMs had their bows on the beach and were disgorging soldiers and jeeps. A few LSMs had slid so far up on the beach that, when the tide went out, they were high and dry. Our LSM 53 came to rest about 200 feet from shore with water about five feet deep just off the end of our ramp. The Aussie soldiers got their jeeps running and tried to make the journey through water to shore. I don’t think a single one made it. Their engines sputtered out in 4 feet of water a few feet in front of the ramp. But already there were jeeps from other ships running on shore and the jeeps from our ship were winched ashore by means of cables. We got all our load of jeeps onshore relatively quickly. But the soldiers had to disassemble the “jury rigged” devices from the engines and dry the engines to some extent before they would run. Luckily there was no enemy opposition shooting at any of us during the operations. We were warned to beware that there might be snipers shooting at us from a distance. Most of the soldiers in their jeeps disappeared down a nearby road as soon as the engines were running.

Later, off in the distance to which the soldiers had disappeared, we saw U. S. Navy planes diving and firing at ground targets. Obviously, an aircraft carrier or two had followed our invasion convoy (I had not seen them) and the planes were providing support to the soldiers as they went inland.

The Aussie soldiers were in such a hurry to get to their work, they left their personal gear aboard ship for others to unload. A small contingent of soldiers were left behind on the beach to retrieve the personal gear of the soldiers. Of course they needed the help of the ships crews to get the gear to shore. It took us about half a day to hand the baggage of our soldier passengers to shore. We formed lines of men from the ship to shore and handed the baggage from man to man. Sailors from the ship made up the deep water end of the line while Aussie soldiers made up the shore end of the line. I stood in waist deep water most of the morning assisting with the unloading. After we had been working about an hour, the Aussies on the shore end of the line disappeared. The sailors kept passing baggage but about half way to shore there was no one to receive it. The baggage began to pile up in the shallow water getting quite wet. It took a while to get the signal back to the ship to stop handing out baggage. Where were the Aussies? We looked over to the shore and there they were standing around a camp fire making and drinking tea! The sailors began to yell and jeer tauntingly at them. They just waved back at us in a friendly manner and kept drinking their tea.

Later when things were quiet I talked at length with some of the Aussie soldiers who were bivouacked on the beach. One soldier had noticed and admired the kind of blankets we sailors had, very light cream colored blankets. I had always felt that our blankets were too short but wider than necessary. The Aussie soldiers each had a blanket which was dark colored, longer in length but less wide than ours. The Aussie blankets were obviously made from very high grade wool as was ours, I presume. An Aussie soldier offered to swap blankets with me. O. K. We struck a deal. I still have that Aussie blanket to this day and have used it on many a camping trip.

That afternoon after we had unloaded the ship we noticed a P. T. Boat come near our stern and disembark some officers onto the LSM beached next to us. Then we noticed some U. S. Army newsreel photographers assembled on the beach with their cameras trained on the ramp of the LSM. I was up on the bow of our ship looking down on the scene next to our ship. Out of the neighboring LSM strode General Douglas MacArthur followed by several officers of his staff. At the end of the ramp they stepped off into knee deep water and waded ashore with the newsreel cameras rolling. I’m sure the news reels back home soon had the pictures of General MacArthur and his latest triumphant invasion. At that point he had already retaken the Philippines and the battle of Okinawa was raging. The Japanese homeland was the obvious next target.

June 20, 1945. Aboard USS LSM 53. “Hello Darling, Well, I finally got to that shore station for a couple of hours and was able to get the enclosed money orders. I’ve been carrying that money around for an awfully long time. Gee, darling, I’m sorry I can’t be there to buy your ring. I should think you might be a little self conscious buying it yourself. But I’ve heard of it having been done before and I can’t have you going around without an engagement ring on your finger. You should get a little bit of fun out of being engaged. Wonder of wonders, I got three more letters from you today. That makes twelve letters in three days. I received the little snapshots and they were pretty good. There are no cameras here among the sailors so I can’t send you any pictures of me. I had to send my camera and portable radio home before I shipped out of California.”

June 23, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “My Darling, The days are sure monotonous around here. I spent the morning cleaning up the compartment and learning a little code. This afternoon I sat down to read some more on radio but I spent most of the time shooting the breeze with the Radio Operators. Next month I am to start standing radio operator’s watch. It isn’t work. It is just listening for messages and copying them on the typewriter. I might as well be doing it now. ... The war news sounded good tonight. It said thousands of Japs on Okinawa surrendered. That’s the first time anything like that has happened.”

June 25, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “Darling, The days creep slowly by and the sea is something one can get awfully bored with. Do you know that I’ve only slept ashore one night since I left the States. I’ve been literally at sea ever since I left. ... We are simply a freighting ship. To the sea the same as a truck to the land. So we just travel back and forth between islands that all look alike. Our voyages generally last about a week each. Then we lie in a bay or a harbor for a couple of days, then we are off again. The places we stop are uninteresting. There is absolutely nothing there except an army camp and, perhaps, some native huts. These places might be interesting were I a civilian and were seeing them on my own accord.”

June 327, 1945. Aboard USS LSM 53. “Dearest, I’m lonesome for you tonight. Same as every night. We just got in (to harbor) from another week at sea. There isn’t any news to write except that we had ice cream today. I helped make it so I got all I wanted of it. It wasn’t very good because we have to make it with powders, even powdered milk, all ready mixed.” (I remember that we made the ice cream in an old fashioned hand crank machine just like we used to have at home. But, we rigged a way to turn the hand crank by motor. We fixed the handle onto the spoke of a slowly turning winch wheel run by the engine that winches up the stern anchor. There’s never been another automatic ice cream machine like it, 200 horsepower dedicated to making ice cream.)

June 29, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “Hello Darling, I’ve been thinking of you all day. We’re on the move again. The one good thing I can say about the Navy is that you are not stuck in one spot all the time. We may get close to Japan this time. But no one knows except maybe the skipper. I stood a midnight to 4 AM watch last night on top deck with a Thompson sub-machine gun. Your Chicago gangsters will have nothing on me from now on. I’ve fired the gun too. Not at anyone, though. It’s an easy gun to fire with no kick and not too much noise. I’ll get you one when I get back to the States and then we can be typical Chicago citizens, huh!!! I talked with some Australian soldiers for a while one day and they said all they had heard or seen of America were gangsters running around in high powered cars shooting tommy guns. Well, darling, you just watch your step around that dangerous city of Chicago. You be careful in all that traffic. That’s more dangerous than the war zone.”

July 2, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “My Darling, We’re at sea now but just before we left we received a little mail. I was the luckiest fellow. I got five letters , three from you, darling, and one each from my mother and father. ... Mama and the girls have moved by now for they had to move before the 1^st of July. I know they had a hard time finding a place to go. They have to move so often that I don’t see how all our things can stand up under the strain. Dick went up to Washington, DC for a visit. He also got a new bicycle. He must have plenty of money. ... Sweetheart, your suggestion of having Mary Fields sing at our wedding sounds good. I don’t think its too early to think about it. I wish we were married now, darling. but I guess it’s better this way since I can’t be with you anyway. I hope Bro. Ritchie can perform the ceremony. I wrote to him about our engagement. ... Thanks so much, darling, for offering me packages of food. But please don‘t try to send any. They wouldn’t reach me for six months and even the strongest boxes are usually crushed. I really don’t need a thing, except one thing. I need you, wonderful one. So long, lovely, FM.”

July 4, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “My Darling, We just got to another censored place. I’ve been here before so you may know where I am. I’ve been standing Radioman’s watch for the past two days. Now I have one in the early hours tomorrow morning so I’ll probably go to bed as soon as I finish this letter. ... How did you celebrate the day today? We had a sort of a holiday. We did no more work than necessary and tonight we had a turkey dinner with ice cream and apple pie. ... Dearest, practically all my thoughts are of my post war plans with you. Maybe I can get a job right off. Maybe I can’t. I’ll have some money saved by then but not an awful lot. There are many things I want to do. I want to get a job I’ll like first of all. And then I want to learn more engineering and I want to study music. But most of all I want to marry you dearest and if I can’t do anything else I’ll do that. All my love, FM.”

July 5, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “Darling, I got one letter from you today, exactly one month old. I was lucky sure enough for no one else got any letters. Today I had a busy day. I was up at 4 AM to stand watch. Then I spent all morning ashore trying to get some new records. And I came back to the ship, missed chow, and worked until about 7 PM tonight. I have to go ashore again tomorrow. Oh yes, I did take off about 30 minutes this afternoon to go swimming.”

July 8, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “My little Darling, I haven’t written for three day, but I haven’t had a chance. You see, I went ashore to get supplies and we stayed for three days. We really worked. I got a bunch of radio parts so now I’ll have some work to do on my radios. ... And when I got back to the ship today, I had a stack of letters waiting for me. I got 19 or 20 from you, darling. The earliest dated April 6^th, the latest dated June 26^th. So now I must be up to date, to June 26 anyway. I got three letters from my brother, Bert. I got three from Mama and four or five from Papa. Also I got one from Isabella. And you still love me, dearest. I still love you too. But, of course, I love you. You’re my girl for now and forever. The pictures you sent are lovely, darling. ... I’m so glad you’re going down to Nashville for your vacation. Mama said you might. She said Isabella was going to Washington at that same date on her vacation and maybe Betty Jo also. And Mama will have to work every day. I hope you don’t have too dull a time of it, darling. But you just get out and see the sights by yourself, if necessary. I should realize that by the time you get this letter you’ll be back home. In fact, you must have gone yesterday and now while I am writing this you will be at church in Nashville. I sure do wish I could be with you, darling. I hope it isn’t too hot there now. It’s the rainy season over here so it’s cool here now, or else I’ve gotten used to the heat. I think it’s a little of both. ... I hope you let Mama know exactly when you were coming so she could meet you at the train. I also hope you get to go back on as good a train as the Southwind or the Flagler and not one of those old hot coaches. ... What is the number of Chick’s LST? Maybe he’ll show up some where near me sometime. Bert writes that he is back in Calcutta. He has two battle stars but he asked me not to tell Mama he had been in any air raids for she would worry. He said he had plenty of fox hole time. ... Darling, my thoughts are with you tonight up there in Nashville. They’re with you all other times too. I love you. FM.”

July 9, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “Dearest, Well, I’ve had a busy day. Have you? I’ve thought of you down in Nashville now. I sure wish I was with you there. They have picnics and wiener roasts in the hills on these July nights and they are really fun. I remember. And some country church often has all day singings with dinner on the grounds. And what dinners they turn out! You never saw the like. What are you doing all day all by yourself, or rather what did you do? For you will be back in Chicago by the time you get this. ... We got a movie machine on our latest trip ashore and tonight we are going to have movies for the first time on this ship. ... Guess what? I got another letter from you today dated April 6, before I even left the States. No telling where it has been.”

July 10, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “Charlotte darling, And what did you do today, down there in Nashville? You better watch out or you will like Nashville better than Chicago! ... Darling, the very first time I saw you I didn’t think I’d ever be engaged to you. Of course, that was several years ago when I was in Chicago with Bro. Ritchie and the Lipscomb College Chorus. (Charlotte and Marge came to a College concert in which I sang with a group - 1940.) The next time I saw you, after I got in the Navy, I was disturbed a little because I knew I would fall in love with you if I saw very much of you. And after I met you I couldn’t help but see lots of you so you see it was inevitable. So long now. All my love, FM.”

July 11, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “Darling, I received your letter today telling about the ring. (Charlotte received the money order I sent and bought our engagement ring!) It sounds wonderful. It is wonderful!! The most wonderful thing that ever happened. My girl, wearing the ring that says she’s mine. I love you, sweet. ... Now that you mention it, I have thought about wearing a wedding ring, myself. I wouldn’t mind. In fact, I like the idea. I’ve never worn a ring in my life because I hated to have anything interfere with my fingers. But I’d like to get used to it, I really would. ... I’m hoping you had a good time on your vacation. I just got your letter saying you probably wouldn’t go to Tennessee. Mama wrote me that you would probably have a dull time of it since she couldn’t be home during the day and Isabella was going away then, too. Wherever you went, I hope it wasn’t dull. The idea of getting a cottage on a lake with Marge sounds fine. My family used to go to a cottage on the Warrior River near Birmingham when I was a kid.”

July 13, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “My Darling, Two more letters from you today and one from Mama. That’s positively wonderful. Now I’m wondering, did you did, or did you didn’t go down to Nashville on your vacation? I had just about decided that you were going when I received a letter saying you probably wouldn’t and now the latest says you probably would. Anyway, I hope you had a good time, sweet. What did you do? How was the train trip? Did you get lonesome while Mama and Betty Jo were at work? Tell me everything. ... Well, I guess it’s O.K. for me to say that the invasion I was in was at Borneo. We took a load of Australian troops in. It was a very tame invasion. Now we are just loafing around, getting repairs. No one knows where we will go next.”

July 14, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “Darling, Still wondering how much fun you had on your vacation. Some of these days we’ll have a wonderful vacation together. We’ll just have a vacation all the time! Reminds me of when I used to wish every day was Christmas! ... Sweet, if you couldn’t get a reservation on the Southwind for Saturday why didn’t you try the Flagler at the Dearborn station. It gets to Nashville faster than the Southwind. How was the trip back? ... I’ve worked pretty hard the last two days. Today we installed a new radio set and I got up at 3:30 AM the last two mornings to go on watch. And I’ve stayed up late every night to see movies. I saw “Around the World” with Kay Keyser, and “Andy Hardy’s Blonde Trouble” for the second time.”

July 17, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “Darling, Mama wrote that you had arrived there and that she was glad to have you. She said you would probably be lonesome during the day when she had to go to work. ... You are home from Tennessee by now, I guess, but I have just received word that you got there. So I am thinking very much about you and what you must have done during your week there. Did you have fun?”

July 19, 1945. Morning. On board USS LSM 53. “Hello Darling, Here it is 4:00 AM. What a funny time to write to my love. I just went on watch and I have nothing to do but sit here and listen for radio messages and there doesn’t seem to be any at this time of day. Doesn’t this prove that I am thinking of you 24 hours a day? I got a letter yesterday from my former college room mate, Gilbert Dimetral. He is in the Army Air Corps now, stationed somewhere in the Philippines. I might get near enough to him to look him up. You never can tell, I might. ... Don’t worry about me. I’m really getting along quite well. The days are passing by pretty fast. I’ll be home before long. All my love, FM.”

July 19, 1945. Evening. On board USS LSM 53. “Darling, Today I received another batch of old letters dated in April and May. I got the V-mail copy of the bond. Darling, I had no idea you would do anything like that. I’m just tickled pink. You are wonderful, you know that? We will save the bond for something extra special, O. K? I’ll have to read all your letters over again, this time in chronological order, to get everything straight and see if I missed anything. ... Now I’m on radio watch and I’ve just been swamped with messages. I’ve been trying to write this letter for a couple of hours. Finally everything is quiet.”

July 20, 1945. Om board USS LSM 53. “Hello Darling, Today two more letters from you, one dated July 11 which you wrote from Nashville. I sure hope you had a good time in Nashville. Did you get to see Ed Craddock? Darling, I still can’t get over that wonderful gift you sent me. We must save that for some extra special occasion. ... I received the nicest letter from Bro. J. C. Bunn of Seattle. He has been preaching in the northwestern states most of his life. He founded many of the Churches of Christ in that area. I boarded with the Bunn’s when I was in Seattle awaiting transportation to Alaska. I lived with them about three months. We have been corresponding regularly since then. He has one son who has been a prisoner of the Japanese since the fall of the Philippines in 1942. He doesn’t know now whether that son is dead or alive since he has had no word from him in about a year. Bro. Bunn sent several addresses of Churches of Christ which existed in the Philippines before the war. In all probability they are still in existence. Bro. Bunn also has a son who is an army doctor in Europe. Still another son is in Navy Boot Camp at Great Lakes or he is just getting out of Boot camp. He is going to radio tech. school just as I did and in all probability will be stationed in Chicago part of the time. Maybe you will see him. Bro. Bunn asked me to write him and recommend some church to attend where he can meet other young people. I’ll give him several addresses but will tell him that Northwest church has the most young people. His name is Merle Bunn and the address I have is Seaman 1st Class, Co. 608, USNTS, Great Lakes, Illinois. I wrote Bro. Bunn some time ago and told him that I was engaged to you, sweetheart. He says we must positively stop at his house and visit with him when and if we come through Seattle. He says the work in Alaska is coming along fine. Churches of Christ are now in existence in Fairbanks, Anchorage, Seward and several other places. ... I started this letter last night but there were too many interruptions. Now it is 4:00 AM and I am finishing it. I’m on radio watch.”

July 24, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “Darling, We’re on another trip. It’s nice and cool over here now. It’s cloudy all the time and it rains a lot. Doesn’t bother me though. I’d rather have rain than heat. I guess I’m finally gonna apply for midshipman’s school. That is if the Captain will recommend me. It would take months to go through even if my application were accepted. Several fellows aboard have had applications turned down recently.”

July 27, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “Hello Darling, I’ll recount some things maybe I haven’t told you. When I first came aboard this ship we were busily preparing for the Borneo invasion. But since then we have just been sort of a work horse or cargo carrier. We pick up a load here and take it somewhere else. Then go somewhere else to get a load to take somewhere else. Sometimes we carry trucks or ducks or jeeps or tanks or just plain crates of cargo. We carry most anything. So when the army wants something moved, they call on us. I’m sitting in the cab of a truck now writing this. It’s one of the coolest and most comfortable places to write. And we can pick up a very strong station nearby, today, on the ships radio. We have an outside loudspeaker connected to the radio and right now I’m listening to “The Great Gildersleeve.” It’s pretty good. ... Now the news is on and it sounds pretty good. Today the Allies gave Japan an ultimatum and told them exactly what they could expect if they surrendered and what they could expect if they didn’t surrender. If the Japs were smart, they would surrender now.”

For about six weeks after the Brunei Bay (Borneo) invasion we traveled from point to point along the shores of the largest Philippine Island, Mindanao, sometimes traveling all the way around the island. I remember names like Davao, Sarangani Islands, Zamboango, Cobago, Toloma, and Calaban. Sometimes we carried American soldiers and sometimes Philippine soldiers, other times just cargo.

Although the war was still going, the waters we traveled in the Philippines were considered to be quite safe at that time. We traveled on our own without convoy protection. There were many LSMs and LSTs traveling the same waters and we met the other ships and their crews at some busy beaches where we picked up supplies and cargo. There developed competition among the LSMs to see which one could get the most desirable food items, recreation equipment for the crews, and otherwise desirable things to have aboard ship. For instance, an LSM was not allotted a small boat to ferry people from the ship to shore or to other ships when at anchor. When we anchored in a harbor, we would have to appeal to another larger ship for small boat service in order to transact business ashore. So the LSMs were constantly trying to find surplus small boats that could be taken aboard for their own use. Also, when an LSM placed its bow on a beach, it was not allotted any kind of a surface vehicle for land transportation. So LSMs were constantly trying to find surplus jeeps they could carry on board for use when beached.

Our supply officer aboard LSM 53 was Lt. (J G) Katz who prided himself on keeping our LSM the best supplied among the entire flotilla of landing ships. In fact, Lt. Katz had acquired items which, it was said, were illegal for an LSM to have. Lt. Katz was well known to the staffs of the supply warehouses ashore as one who had to be watched carefully or he would be walking out of the warehouse without properly checking out the items. Some supply people simply said he “stole” many items. Our own crew was very proud of him. One day we were beached on a very busy beach with a number of other landing ships. Vehicles were traveling up and down the beach. Lt. Katz with a group of Seaman were walking down the beach when they came upon an unattended jeep. They looked around and saw no one attending the jeep. So they jumped in it and drove it back to the ship, up the ramp, and into the cargo deck. Then they hurriedly pulled up the ramp and closed the bow doors. We later sailed away very happy that we would now have the use of a vehicle to use on land. The very next time we beached our ship at a new location, Lt. Katz drove down the ramp in the newly acquired jeep. He went only a few hundred feet before being stopped by Military Police. They seized the jeep with the simple explanation that no LSM was authorized to have a jeep!

July 31, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “Darling, We’ve been at sea most of the time for the past two weeks. And I have had very little work to do for several days. I’ve been keeping myself busy painting around the radio shack and doing little odds and ends of jobs. ... Sweet, did you ever start back to taking voice lessons. You should if you have the time. You are certainly a busy woman. ... Darling, I have been thinking things over very seriously. And I’ve decided (at least, for the time being) that I ought to go back to school and get my degree as soon as possible. I definitely should have a degree because it is just one of those things one needs to do well in work or business nowadays. If I were to wait and try to go to school part time or go to night school or something of the sort, well, I just never would get the degree I know. ... Of course, I wouldn’t decide anything until I know what you want to do. So, darling, let me know what you think, huh? We will be married as soon as we can. Then, I’ll get myself sent to school by the government. I’ll have all tuition paid and about $75.00 per month in addition, perhaps more for a married man. Then I could work part time to make more money, enough to live on. Perhaps you would like to go to school too. You could if you wanted. I could get my degree in two years. Would you want to do that, darling? Do you think it would be possible?”

August 2, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “Darling, Here it is August already. It won’t be very long until autumn. But we won’t have any autumn because it’s always summer over here. I guess the land stays green over here all year around. We were in Port yesterday. I got liberty for a couple of hours. You know, ever since I left the States I have had liberty only three times for a total time of about 8 hours. It was 4 months ago when I left the States. Yesterday I just went for a walk down the road toward the mountains. But the trucks passing stirred up the dust so, it wasn’t much fun. There is some beautiful scenery over here. At one place we anchored the mountains hem the entire harbor. Some pretty tough fighting has taken place around here and I guess there is still some guerilla warfare. I think the Church of Christ was established here before the war and there are probably members of the church here. It will be another week before I get any more mail for we are at sea again.”

August 4, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “My Darling, A little work helps one, you know that? No time to think and feel sorry for yourself. We had a field day today. That is, we gave the ship an extra special cleaning and our ship is already the cleanest one I’ve seen in the flotilla. I’m seeing my share of the sea. Reminds me of the old song, “I joined the Navy to see the world, and what did I see, I saw the sea.”? We see very little land except at a distance. We are almost always within sight of a distant land. And we see lots of flying fish. That reminds me of the song, “On the road to Mandalay, where the flying fishes play.” And the porpoises play around our ship a lot. Sometimes they jump five or six feet out of the water. Most of the time the sea is calm but sometimes it gets pretty rough and then this ship really rolls. I only get slightly sea sick about once every two months now. Every night there is a beautiful sunset. Wanna come back down here on our honeymoon?”

August 5, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “Darling, Here it is Sunday morning. We’re in port now and we went ashore to attend the army church services. Some guy in a robe gave a sermon. This base is one of the nicest we have seen. The army camp is nicely laid out, there are flowers blooming all around and shrubbery is planted around the buildings that were here before the army came. The road is a nice long avenue, a little dusty, with overhanging palm trees. There’s quite a bit of traffic on the road, but I can just imagine this is quite a lovely place in peace time. There’s one thing to mar the scenery. There’s a sign on the beach which says “Same Old Story, There’s Malaria in This Area.” So when it gets night time we roll down our sleeves and button our cuffs. And we take an Atabrine pill a day just in case. It sure is nice to get off the ship and roam around where the flowers and the green things are. It gets tiresome just gazing at the steel sides of the ship, or the ocean water all the time. I’d like to walk back where we can’t see the ocean if we get liberty this afternoon. Darling, I miss you so much.”

August 7, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “Darling, We’re in port now. Half the crew get liberty this afternoon. Alas, I don’t. As soon as we pulled in the natives came swarming out in canoes to trade with us. They are good traders. They get plenty for everything they trade. They have bananas and pineapples and big swords and all sorts of things woven from palm leaves. They don’t want money. They want clothes or mattress covers and they won’t take anything but the best. But not much trading goes on for our boys don’t have anything left they can part with. Some of the natives have Japanese swords or rifles to trade. They want a pretty penny for them. There was something today that I had heard about but had never seen before. There were lots of natives trying to get us to throw coins in the water so they could dive for them. Men and women and little kids were all diving. Once a real little baby got so excited that he dived over too and the mother had to dive in and rescue him! This seems to be a nice place. Too bad I don’t have liberty.”

Atomic Bomb News Reaches Our Ship.

August 8, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “My Darling, This new war news about the atomic bomb is sure something to be concerned about. My first thought was that it will surely bring the war to a quick end. And I rejoiced in that. But if this force is as powerful as it is said, it disturbs me greatly. It seems hardly human to release it on any other humans. And such a force could destroy the whole earth. Of course, it’s not actually much worse than our other weapons. It is just a little further reaching. All our weapons kill people and the new weapon just does that more effectively. So we have won the war but what does that actually mean? It just means that we can kill better than the Japs, that we are more barbaric. Wonder if we can forget this in the years to come. Maybe we have progressed scientifically during this war but we might have gone backward in other ways. ... You know I was thinking along these lines back in 1939 when Hitler started his blitzkrieg into Poland. We were expecting something barbaric to start. I was just getting ready to go back to college for my second year and the news made me wonder what the world was coming to. I just heaved a big sigh when I awoke at 4:00 AM one morning with the newsboy shouting an extra newspaper edition outside my bedroom window. “Well, it’s started,” I said to myself! “That thing that we all fear has come to pass, and now we’ll all have to see it through to the end.” The so-called Christian world doesn’t even know Christ’s first principle: “Love one another.” So there lies the task of Christians. We have a force above all human force, the only force that can bring love instead of hate into human hearts. So long for tonight. I love you, FM.”

August 9, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “Darling, Now this day has been what I call a big day! To start with we came into a port. Then we got mail. I got just oodles and oodles of mail from you. It must have been 20 or 25 letters. And I got lots from Mama, Papa, and Bert. Also one from Dick. I have hardly had time to read them yet. I’ve just skimmed through them. ... But that is only the start. Guess who I saw? Yep. I saw your brother, Bob and talked with him for a couple of hours. Now this is how it happened: Your letter said where he is and it just happened that we have been there for the last three weeks, or around about. So this afternoon I had liberty. I asked the first soldier I saw where Bob’s outfit was and lo and behold it was very close by, about 12 miles inland on a beautiful mountain plateau. I caught a ride back there and in no time at all I had found him. He was sitting at his Battalion ball park watching the ball game. ... He looks fine. Thinner than I thought but he’s plenty healthy and tanned as brown as me. I guess he was surprised to see me but we immediately fell into conversation as if we had known each other all our lives. I had just received the color pictures from you and I showed them to him. He showed me all around his camp. You know, it’s the finest army camp I’ve seen in my life, bar none, and believe me the fellows there are proud of it. His Battalion just lacks 5 points to get a Presidential Citation, so I guess they will get it soon. He said you all couldn’t understand why he didn’t have enough points to come home. He has 56 points but he didn’t get any points for the Morotai invasion. He was there on D-day and he doesn’t know why he didn’t get the points. But none of them got any points for that. He has seen quite a bit of action, I gathered. But he and his outfit are none the worse for it. But he is one homesick fellow. I hope he gets to go home soon. ... Bob’s camp is located on one of the nicest places a camp could be located. It’s the top of the mountains on a wide plateau. There are hardly any trees, only grassy meadow. And there’s a breeze there always, I imagine. He said they almost freeze at night. Right now his outfit seems to be just marking time. He had just come in from a working party. They had been out getting sheets of tin off the old Japanese pill boxes. He told me lots about the Jap caves they have found back in the hills. ... And the news about Russia entering the war is good too. Maybe it won’t be long now. All my love, my darling, FM. PS. I may get to see Bob again later.”

August 10, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “Hello Darling, I told you yesterday about seeing Bob. Maybe that letter will go astray so I’ll tell you again. I enquired about his outfit and lo and behold it was only about 12 miles inland from the beach. I hitched a ride over and talked to him a couple of hours. He looks fine but I gathered he is pretty well fed up with it over here as everyone is, of course. Twenty two months is a long time to live in this jungle. He seems to like his work in the army for he sure talked enthusiastically when he showed me the gun he mans. I was certainly glad to see him and I’ll probably get to visit him again. Maybe I can get him to visit our ship next time. I sure do think he’s a swell fellow. ... Say, yesterday I got another letter from Gilbert Dimetral, my David Lipscomb College room mate, and he is close by too. I expect to see him soon, perhaps. In the mean time the poor fellow is running around on wild goose chases looking for me. It seems he got some mis-information from some office some where as to where we were. He had enquired so he could come see me. Well, his information is all wrong as he will find out when he tries to find me. I don’t have time to get a letter to him. You see he wrote me to meet him at a certain place on August 11. Well that is tomorrow and I’m hundreds of miles from there. Tsk, tsk!!! ... Darling I got the color pictures fine. I’m sending some back to you now. Say, those things cost quite a little bit I know. I’ll send you some money pretty soon to pay for them and to get some more made. I’m sorry I can’t send you any of my ugly mug but no one on board has both a camera and film. I can’t imagine what you would want with my picture. You aren’t going to use it in your victory garden, are you?”

August 11, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “Darling, Well, the only thing we can think of today is that the war will probably be over in a day or so. We heard over the radio of Japan’s offer to accept our terms. We are at sea now. The news from the States is that people are rejoicing. In fact, the whole world is supposed to be going wild. Well, the fellows on this ship took the news rather funny. There’s no celebration. Everyone just smiled. No one dared do more. If the war ends today we may be kept over here as long as 6, 8, or 10 more months. Someone has to ferry the soldiers around. Someone has to man the ships that evacuate them. It’s too early to tell yet.”

August 12, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “My Darling, There’s lots on my mind today, sweetheart. The war almost over is wonderful news. I’m filled more and more with thoughts and plans of what I’m going to do when I get back with you. I’m asking Papa to enquire about government jobs for which I may be eligible. And I’m thinking about every angle I can, about going to Alaska, about going back to school, etc. But mostly about how I love you, darling.”

August 14, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “Hello Darling, Well we have been anxiously awaiting definite news that the war is over, but, as you know, it has not been forthcoming. We have had our shortwave receiver operating the last couple of days. We listen to San Francisco about once an hour and we also listen to Radio Tokyo in hopes the Japanese will let out some word. We heard that you all got a false report but later it was corrected. It may not be long. But Honey, we won’t get to come home right away. We’ll probably be around these parts for six more months any way.”

The War Ends.

August 15, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “My Darling, Well, its here, the day we’ve been waiting for. We got the news over our short wave radio this morning a little after 8 AM. It was still August 14 back in the States, about 6 or 7 PM probably in Chicago. It just so happened that I was manipulating the radio when the flash came over. It was in English, then in Japanese, then Chinese, then Dutch, then French, and I don’t know how many other languages. I immediately called the duty officers by ship’s phone, informed them of the news, and asked if I could announce it on the ship’s loudspeaker system. I could hardly trust my voice when I announced it. ... The news was taken very quietly on our ship. Everyone grinned a big grin and that was about all. I don’t think anyone has begun to realize actually what the end of the war means. For a moment this morning I really thought I was going to cry. I’m glad it’s over but I find it hard to be very happy over anything connected with the war. In fact, about all I can think about is what it has cost, in lives, I mean. Everyone in the U. S., probably in the world, has a close friend or a relative who has been killed, and, of course, some families have been completely wiped out. I heard that total casualties for the whole world are about 55 million people.”

A little after we got the news that morning, we went into the port of Zamboango and tied up beside an Australian tanker to refuel. We had a load of American soldiers aboard. I learned after we tied up that the Aussies were quietly celebrating by breaking out some whiskey. This became apparent when the Aussies made the mistake of offering a friendly drink to a soldier or two who had climbed aboard the tanker. I’m sure it started in a very friendly fashion. But a couple of soldiers got “plastered” and after being ushered off the Australian ship, they kept climbing back onto the Aussie ship to get another drink. Very quickly they wore out their welcome and were forced off the Aussie ship. Then they began to request the Aussies to sell them some whisky. Their request, of course, was refused. The drunk soldiers began to curse and call the Aussies bad names. I saw and heard this going on through the open door of the radio shack. There were no duty officers on our deck since we were tied up and secure in our berth. The Aussie merchant seaman were trying to calm things down so they made no reply to the insults by the soldiers and soon disappeared from sight into their ship. But the drunk soldiers wouldn’t let up, and at least one of them climbed back aboard the Aussie ship and disappeared into the superstructure. Soon he was forcibly ejected from the ship by a couple of Aussie seaman. They were angry by now. Some American soldiers began to taunt the Aussie seaman. One of the Aussie seaman grabbed a hose, opened a valve, and began to squirt oil on the taunting soldiers. Of course the oil went onto the deck of our LSM as well as upon some soldiers. About this time, some of our officers appeared on deck and yelled “knock it off” to the Aussie manning the hose. He stopped the squirting oil and I guess some of the soldiers subdued their drunken soldier comrades. For a few minutes I was afraid there was going to be an international incident.

August 16, 1945. On board USS LSM 53 in Agusan harbor on Mindanao. “Hello Darling, We are just pulling into the harbor that is near Bob’s outfit. It’s 3 PM now so I won’t get to see him today. However, if we remain here tomorrow, I might get to see him. I’ll write you about it if I do, and I guess he has written you too, about the last time I saw him. Now that the war’s over I expect the censorship to be broken, but so far I haven’t heard of it. Maybe soon I can tell you more about everything over here. Well, the Navy’s discharge program doesn’t cheer any of us up very much for not many of us have been in the Navy very long. All we can look forward to is discharge within about a year and perhaps being given Stateside duty before our time is up. The war’s end has brought only a few changes to our lives aboard ship. We don’t blackout at night now, and I think we are beginning to breathe more freely. We can enjoy our trips around the islands now if we can only get the right attitude about it. We have no enemy to fear, no planes or submarines, although some of the Japs in the jungle don’t know the war is over. Who knows? We may make a trip to Japan later on.”

August 18, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. My Darling, It’s sure good to be alive in a world that’s not at war. ... You have probably heard about the Navy’s discharge program. We have to have 44 points for discharge and I have only 21. At the present rate it may take me a couple more years to get the rest of the points I need. Here’s the way it works. You get 10 points if you’re married. I’m not. Divide age by 2; that gives me 12. Divide months of service by 2; that gives me 9. So I have a total of 21 points. Of course, they must change this system now that the war is over because we are only supposed to be in for the ‘duration plus 6 months.’ ... I got the book you sent, ‘You Can Do Personal Work’ by Otis Gatewood. I’m reading it. It was sweet of you to send it. I’m also sending for a correspondence course to brush up on my mathematics. I’ve got to be right on my toes when I finally get out of here because there will be some good jobs open for somebody. Also I’m studying up on my radio theory so I may pass a test to get my First Class Radio Technician rating. If I have to stay in the Navy a while longer I might as well get as much advancement in rating as possible. ... I didn’t get to see Bob this time, but I wrote him a letter and asked him if he was getting to go home soon.”

August 22, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “Hello Darling, I’m glad the Navy is getting up a new point system. I told you how long it would take for me to get out under the present system. Maybe the new system will get me out sooner. Let’s spend my terminal leave on our honeymoon. That’s the leave I get when I am discharged. I’ll have enough money saved up so we can have a nice quiet but long honeymoon. In the country somewhere, perhaps a cabin on a lake, or in the mountains. If it’s winter I’ll teach you to ski. If it’s summer I’ll teach you to swim. ... We now are ferrying soldiers around to places where they can depart for the States. We have a load of soldiers aboard now who are trying to get transportation back to the States. ... I’ve only seen Bob the once. Maybe I’ll get to see him again. I hope he gets to go home soon.”

August 24, 1945. On board USS LSM 53 in Agusan Harbor. “Darling, Another wonderful day. Because this is the day we pulled into the harbor where we get our mail. And I had two weeks worth of letters from you. And I saw Bob again. As a matter of fact he was on the beach to meet me. It just happened he was down here when we pulled in. I rode back to his camp with him and had supper with him. Then he rode back down to the ship with me and I showed him around the ship. He couldn’t stay at the ship with me very long because it was dark and he wasn’t sure there would be very many rides back to his camp. He had to hitch hike in the dark about 18 miles. It feels like it’s further than that in a bumpy truck or jeep. ... Just in case you are in doubt, he is looking swell, even better than he did two weeks ago and let me tell you the end of the war has worked wonders for his morale. He doesn’t know when he will get home but he’s hoping soon. He still doesn’t have enough points to get out but, darling, I don’t think it will be long for any of us. We had a good time today talking and, well, just talking. He says he’s thinking of going back to school, too, when the war’s over. (I keep forgetting it’s over already!) He wanted to know when we planned to be married. I told him I didn’t know, of course, but that it wouldn’t be very long after I get back to you. All my love, FM. PS, Give my love to your Dad, too. Gonna be my Dad before long.

August 25, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “Little Darling, Here we go again. We have about 150 soldiers aboard camped out on top of the deck. They have set up their field kitchen and have put their cots all over the place. We have berth space below deck for only about 30 soldiers. They will be on board for several days then I guess we’ll go pick up another load.”

August 27, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “Dearest Sweetheart, The summer will be drawing to a close there in Chicago soon, I suppose. Have you had any cool weather yet? You are probably feeling sorry for us down here where it’s hot. But it’s not really so bad for us on this ship. It’s only hot during the middle of the day. In the morning and late afternoon it’s cool and actually, at night, we sometimes sleep under blankets. If we get back to the States this winter we’ll probably freeze. But then I’ll have my love to keep me warm. But we’ve heard nothing yet that even hints at us coming home. ... I had an application for Midshipman’s School all filled out ready to turn in when the war ended. So then I just tore it up because I’m not going to take any chances on having to stay in th Navy any longer than I have to.”

August 29, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “My Darling. ... I’ve read most of the book, ‘You Can Do Personal Work,’ and I think it is excellent. Just what is needed. I intend to finish it and perhaps read it again. I’m trying now to put a certain part of my time each day into concentrated Bible study. I should have started that long ago. I’m also studying my electricity and I’ll start the Mathematics correspondence course when it arrives. As you have probably guessed, I don’t have much official radio work to do right now. Think I’ll try to learn code if I can. Will I be smart then? ... I noticed in reading my official record yesterday that I enlisted in this Navy for two years! I had never known for sure because we signed so much stuff when we first came in and we were not allowed to take time to read it. That means my enlistment will be up next January 26^th. That doesn’t mean, though, that I can get out then. I have to wait until six months after the emergency and I have also to wait to have enough points. So I really expect to get out next spring sometimes, perhaps from March to June. But I’m almost afraid to count on that. I’ll just have to wait and see.”

August 31, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “Hello Darling, Well we are going back to the port where Bob is. (I can say now that it was on the south side of Mindanao Island near a town called Agusan.) I don’t know if I’ll get to see him or not. I hope I do because it will probably be the last time I see him on this side of the Pacific. We’ve been ordered to a different place. It’s not a new place, though. It’s the same place I came to when I first came over here. (I can say now it was San Pedro Bay off Leyte Gulf, between the islands of Leyte and Samar.) I’m hoping to see my ex-college room mate, Gilbert Dimetral, up there. He is supposed to be there. We’ll be around there for a few days and then we’ll be off for parts unknown. Maybe Okinawa, maybe Japan, maybe the United States. Who knows? ... Well, I never cease to thank the Lord that the terrible holocaust is over. We’ve all lost much and no one has gained anything except ‘face’ and I wonder how much good that is.”

VJ Day, Official End of the War.

September 2, 1945. On board USS LSM 53 anchored in San Pedro Bay. “My Darling, I just heard, over the radio, the President’s speech proclaiming VJ Day. It’s Sunday morning over here but I guess it’s Saturday night back in Chicago. You are probably out making whoopee and painting the town red. We are now back to the place where I first arrived over here. (It was San Pedro Bay off Leyte Gulf, between Leyte Island and Samar Island in the Philippines.) There is to be a radio announcement soon giving a new point system for the Navy. I hope we get a new system soon because under the present system it will be a couple of years before I can be discharged. ... I’m listening to some vcry beautiful music over the radio right now. I heard part of Beethoven’s 5^th Symphony the other night in a movie and it sounded wonderful even if the movie was ‘beat up.’ I am listening now to a Navy program which says 250,000 men a month will be released. The required points will be lowered from time to time and credit will be given for overseas service. So, maybe I will make it back by next spring.”

 September 3, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “Darling, I’m fairly busy on radio communication watch tonight (anchored in San Pedro Bay off Leyte Gulf). Right now I’m listening to some good music on the radio. They are playing an orchestral arrangement of ‘All Through the Night.’ I expect we will be just sitting here at anchor for the next two weeks, so I hope to get mail from you.”

September 4, 1945. On board USS LSM 53. “Darling, Well, the army has decided there will be no more censoring of the mail but the Navy hasn’t mentioned it yet. Maybe in a few days I’ll be able to tell all. Our Captain (a full Navy Lieutenant) is being sent back to the States and we are getting a new Captain, formerly our Executive Officer. He’s a ‘funny’ guy and, in my opinion, not good enough to be Captain of the ship. It seems he goes out of his way to make things hard for us when it should be exactly the other way around now that the war is over. I’ve not met many really good leaders, officers or enlisted men, since I’ve been at sea. The officers seem to be so afraid they will be called down for something they do wrong that they do nothing. Also, one of our Bos’n Mates (a Chief Petty Officer) left for the States today. The ones leaving now are our best people, people who really led the ship. ... You should have seen the celebration here on VJ Day night, September 2, 1945. There are literally thousands of ships here in this harbor. (This was between Leyte and Samar Islands. I remember seeing maybe 10 or 12 aircraft carriers, several Battleships, a number of Heavy Cruisers, Light Cruisers, many Destroyers, and countless other ships as far as the eye could see. It was almost unbelievable that we had that many ships in the Pacific. And there was said to be a similar fleet with the Battleship Missouri taking the surrender in Tokyo harbor.) When it got dark all these ships began shooting off colored flares, sky rockets, colored signals and turning on all their lights. We did our share. The sky was just filled with bursting sky rockets for miles in all directions. It was truly awe inspiring, and all the ships were blowing their whistles too. It was so different from a few weeks ago when we kept everything completely blacked out at night. I doubt that there has ever been this many ships in one place before. All my love, FM.”

In hindsight, I must say now, many years later, concerning the men who had the most points at the end of the war were those who brought these landing ships over from the U. S. not long after the day of Infamy at Pearl Harbor. They were remarkable men. They had no Navy background to begin with. They came out of land lubber civilian jobs, took a few months training, and then sailed the landing ships down the Mississippi River from the factories where they were made. They sailed across the Pacific in early war convoys, and went into action in South Pacific invasions. The USS LSM 53, on which I served, had several Japanese flags painted on the side of the superstructure, one flag for each Japanese aircraft the gunners had shot down, and some for small Japanese boats sunk. One must remember that the LSM had only one bow gun position and was never intended to be a gun ship. The ship had been very active in Philippine invasions and probably in several earlier invasions. No one ever gave me a history of the actions of USS LSM 53. I only know first hand of its action in the Borneo invasion and in it’s final days of use. I was with it when it was finally decommissioned with honor in Saipan.

September 4, 1945. On board USS LSM 53, anchored in San Pedro Bay, Leyte Gulf, Philippines. “Hello Darling, Well, the lid is off this censoring business. I can write anything that I want. I’m almost afraid to. It doesn’t seem possible that there are no more submarines waiting for bits of information about where you’ve been or where you’re going. The enemy no longer cares how many men we’ve got at a certain place or how many ships because there’s no longer an enemy. It’s almost unbelievable.

“Well, darling, if I can tell you all I might as well get started. You probably know most of this already but I’ll say it all over again so you can piece it all together. After leaving the States on the Navy transport, the USS General Hershey, we stopped at Pearl Harbor for about four days. I didn’t see much of it because we couldn’t get off the ship. I’m hoping to go back by Pearl Harbor on the way home for I would like to get a better look at Hawaii.

“Then after about two more weeks at sea we came to a little atoll not more than 2 or 3 miles long. This was Enewetok that cost the lives of so many Marines. We stayed there for a couple of days and again we couldn’t get off the ship. It was a pretty island. There weren’t many palm tree left for most of them had been wiped off by gunfire. But the white sandy beaches were nice and the water was crystal clear.

“Another week at sea and we came to the Palau Islands. There was one big island with a mountain on it and several smaller islands. On of the small islands was the one which our installations were on. The large island was still Jap held. There were supposed to be about 10,000 Japs left on that island and we anchored only about 5 miles off shore. Apparently there was no danger. There were 20 or 30 ships anchored there. The Japs didn’t have any planes or big guns left. During the day we could see our planes dive bombing the big island.

“Another week at sea and we finally reached our destination, Leyte Gulf. We were put ashore on Samar Island, just north of Leyte Island. I stayed ashore there at a receiving station for just one day. Then I was sent down to San Pedro Bay aboard the USS Henry T. Allen for a little schooling and to wait around for my ship. That’s the story of my trip over. I had told you most of that already.

“San Pedro Bay is just off Leyte Gulf. On one side of the bay is Leyte Island and on the other side of the bay is Samar Island. While I was aboard the Allen I went ashore on Samar Island at a little town called Pirata. It was almost completely destroyed. All the houses, made of palm leaves, were full of bullet holes and there were several wrecked Japanese landing barges laying around on the beach. Another time I went ashore on Leyte at a town called Tolosa. I was on a working party that day and we went back inland on Leyte to a big Navy radio station to get some radio parts.

“Finally my orders came through for me to go to the USS LSM 53. They put me aboard a destroyer of the Fletcher Class. The LSM 53 was down at Morotai so I was to ride the destroyer down there. It was only a three day trip but they had target practice all the way down. And when a destroyer has firing practice there’s plenty of firing going on. I stayed amidships with my ears stuffed with cotton but still my ears rang for a long time afterward. A destroyer has five 5 inch guns and lots of smaller ones. In the last war this destroyer would have been called a cruiser, I think.

“Well I got to Morotai and aboard the USS LSM 53. You probably know by now that Bob was at Morotai for some time. I suppose he was able to write you about this. I didn’t see him there but he told me about being there the last time I saw him. He was there on D-day but it was some time after that , June 1^st, when I was there. The LSM 53 was getting ready for the invasion of Borneo at this time. The ship was already loaded with about 30 jeeps and lots of Australian soldiers when I came aboard. The big convoy of ships was forming. On about June 5 we sailed out of Morotai for Northwest Borneo, known as the Brunei Bay area of Borneo. It was about a 5 day trip and we had a big convoy of about 400 ships in all. There were many transports with troops, lots of LSTs and lots of LSMs and LCIs. Also we had several Destroyers, Destroyer Escorts ahead of the convoy, and about 5 heavy Cruisers.

“On the morning of June 10^th we were all there in Brunei Bay. We were up before daylight and when the sun began to come up we could barely make out the invasion shore about 10 miles away. It was a beautiful sunrise. And it was an awful funny feeling to feel the sun coming up on all those ships and know that the Japs were beginning to gaze on them too. We expected lots of opposition. No sooner had the sun risen over the hills then sure enough there was a big boom and a huge geyser of water erupted over near one of our Destroyers. It was a near miss from a bomb. Then we saw the plane way up high almost out of sight. He left without dropping any more bombs and without anyone firing at him at all. And honestly, that was the only opposition we had for the first whole day. About 8 AM the Cruisers and the Destroyers began laying a terrific barrage on the invasion shore of Labuan Island. It continued for a whole hour at the end of which time there was hardly a tree left standing on the shore. Then we made the landing without firing a shot. When we beached we couldn’t get very close to shore. The jeeps had to drive through several hundred feet of water. Then General MacArthur came ashore right in front of our ship. Newsreel pictures were taken and there we were as plain as day in the newsreel. We saw the newsreel over here and could even read the big 53 on our bow.

“After letting our soldiers off we went out to help unload a large transport. We got a load of soldier packs off the transport and took them in. There were no soldiers available to unload them and we didn’t want to stay there on shore all night when the Japs might try to sneak and do some dirty work so we unloaded the ship ourselves. It was some job. We had to stand neck deep in water and hand the packs in hand over hand. Almost all of them got wet. I hated to get them wet for the soldiers then had to sleep on wet blankets but we couldn’t help it. The next day we went back to Morotai, got another load of Australian soldiers and came down to Borneo again. After letting these soldiers off we left Borneo and haven’t been back since.

“While we were on the beach at Borneo, I went ashore right around the beach head area. There were several Jap pill boxes there and demolished houses. There was also an old cemetery. Strangely, most of the tombstones were untouched. The tombstones told of British sailors and soldiers who had died there as far back as 1815. Some told of fights with pirates, etc. It was very interesting.

“They buried one sailor who was killed on the Destroyer by the single bomb the Japs dropped. We saw the burial ceremony. The grave was only marked by a crossed stick. Two weeks later when we came back there was a quonset hut barracks built over the grave.

“After Borneo we came up to San Pedro Bay in Leyte Gulf again. We laid around Leyte Gulf for about six weeks getting repairs, etc. Then we went down to Mindanao for what we called a milk run. That’s because it’s so much like the milk man delivering milk. We went from place to place on Mindanao delivering soldiers. First we went to Parang, then Agusan, and finally Davao. Other places we went were Zamboango and Sarangani, Cobato, Toloma, and Calaban. Bob knows all about most of these places. It was at Agusan that I met him. Well, for six weeks we were sailing round and round Mindanao and we were really tired of it. All of these towns we went to were little places, some of them hardly discernable as towns. Davao and Zamboango were the only regular sized towns we visited and they weren’t very big. We saw hardly any other ships during these voyages.

“Now we are back at San Pedro Bay in Leyte Gulf. We aren’t doing anything at present but later we are to tie up to a repair ship for some repairs. We have been told we are to leave here September 15, but we haven’t been told where we are going. It possibly might be the States but our Captain thinks it will be Japan or some place north of here.

“Darling, I’ve written a lot. Probably you can’t make heads or tails out of it. Maybe you can make heads or tails out of this though: I love you. You’re wonderful. You’re beautiful. You’re lovely and I love you. All my love, FM.”

MOP UP TASKS AROUND THE PHILIPPINES.

September 7, 1945. On board USS LSM 53 in Leyte Gulf. Here I am on watch again. I’ve been out on a working party all morning. We left about 8:30 AM on an LCM (Landing Craft Medium). It’s a small boat about 45 feet long that we use to pick up provisions from larger ships. We went over to a Merchant Marine Ship, the “Cape San Blas,.” There we got enough dry food provisions to last us for weeks. Last night in the middle of the night we picked up our perishable provisions, such as oranges, eggs, potatoes, fresh or rather frozen meats, etc. During the last two months we have had all the good fresh fruit and meat that we needed. But before that it wasn’t so good most of the time. Later this week we are to tie up tie a repair ship for any repairs we might need. So we are going somewhere about September 15. We still don’t know where we are going. Hoping it’s home to you Darling but don’t be too disappointed if it isn’t.

Well I have plenty to do now that I am standing radio operators watch again. But I haven’t had much technician work to do at all and haven’t had any for such a long time. I also took over an extra job. That is book keeper for our ship’s service store. It isn’t very much work, that is if everything works out o. k. And I get $10 per month extra pay to handle it. I’ll probably not even notice that I’m getting the extra $10. But I’m