| BIRTHDAY | MONDAY, 15 MAY 1944 | EDITION |
THE STORY OF THE BATTLESHIP "W"
Article Index
OUR COMMANDING OFFICER
Captain T. R. Cooley assumed command of the U. S. S. WASHINGTON on April 23, 1944. He came to our ship from the Bureau of Naval Personnel where he served as Director, having risen through the posts of Distribution of Naval Personnel and Assistant Director.
Our Commanding Officer was born in California on June 26, 1893. His naval career commenced with his appointment to the U. S. Naval Academy in 1913. He graduated from the Academy and was commissioned an Ensign on March 30, 1917.
Throughout the first World War and until 1920 Captain Cooley served on the U. S. S. FLORIDA, 6th Battie Squadron, British Grand Fleet and partook in the surrender of the German High Seas Fleet in November 1918. He was ordered to Destroyers, Pacific Fleet, where he was Executive Officer, Navigator, and Captain at varying times. The TATTNAL, THOMPSON, BABBITT, and the SHIRK have been commanded by our Captain.
Shore duty followed in 1922 when he was ordered to the Naval Academy as instructor in Ordnance and Gunnery. Two years later he joined the personnel manning the Asiatic Fleet and served as Executive Officer and Navigator of the U. S. S. PRUITT. He was again ordered to the Naval Academy as Ordnance and Gunnery instructor in January, 1927 where he served until 1929 when a two year hitch was put in as Aide and Flag Lieutenant to the Commander of the Special Service Squadron, based in Panama.
The year 1932 gave Captain Cooley his first duty at BuPers (then the Bureau of Navigation) where he served as detail Officer for Warrant Officers. The Naval Academy must have rated our C. 0. 4.0 because he was ordered there in 1937 as Senior Instructor in Navigation. He was assigned the responsibilities of officer in charge of the Navigation Branch of the Department of Seamanship and Navigation. In fact, for the last six months at the Academy he was Executive Officer of that Department.
Next came sea duty as Executive Officer of the U. S. S. WICHITA. In 1941 he was ordered as Commanding Officer of the U. S. S. ALMAACK. After this tour of duty he returned to the Navy Department in Washington where he served under the Chief of the Bureau of Naval Personnel until ordered to his present duty as Commanding Officer, U. S. S. WASHINGTON.
Captain Cooley holds the Victory Medal, Grand Fleet Bar, Yangtse Service Medal, 2nd Nicaraguan Campaign Medal, American Service Medal, Atlantic Bar, American Area Campaign Medal, European-African-Middie East Campaign Medal, Asiatic Pacific Area Campaign Medal, and the Republic of Nicaragua Medal of Merit.
On this the third birthday of the U. S. S. WASHINGTON, we pause and render honor to our skipper--a salute to you, our Commanding Officer.
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CAPTAIN'S MESSAGE
On this, the 3rd Birthday of th U. S. S. WASHINGTON, I wish, as her Captain, to extend my congratulations to all of you who are fortunate as to serve in such a illustrious ship. The WASHINGTON was named for one of our great states which took its name from the Father of our Country, brings home to us that all we are now fighting for was won for us by the man for whom the U. S. S. WASHINGTON is indirectly named. We, above all others, cannot fail the memory and spirit of the man who risked not only all of his no inconsiderable worldly fortune, but his life, time and time again so that this Republic of free men could be founded. The WASHINGTON has carried on in the past, she is carrying or now, and she will carry on until our enemies are blasted from the sea and air. T. R. COOLEY |
$65,750.00
Congratulations have just been received from the Secretary of the Navy in response to our recent Pearl Harbor Day bond drive. In spite of its many bond allotments, this ship's company bought outright $65,750.00 worth of war bonds on December 7, 1943.
POWER AND POSITION
As the U. S. S. WASHINGTON embarks upon her fourth year of commissioned service in the Navy, the eyes and the thoughts of her crew are focused ahead. There is a feeling of anticipation--a reserved, yet stimulating undercurrent that crops out only during lulls in the day's grind when two or three chances to bring up the subject. There is unfinished business. The men don't seem satisfied with the already generous galaxy that decorates their campaign ribbons. Not that they would admit to such an ambition. On the contrary, the unwritten code of the louder bull sessions forbids them to acknowledge any of the nobler virtues. Just the same, they are spoiling for a fight. At the moment, it's the controlling emotion.
They don't look back much, except in the aforementioned larger and louder sessions--and strictly that isn't looking back, but just shooting the bull.
If they don't look back now, they probably will do so in the mellow years of their lives, for there is a great deal behind them. They are veterans, and any man-jack of them will, when he returns to the land of the free and the home of the brave, be entitled to step right up to the bar, put his foot on the brass rail, and order a drink.
She was conceived in 1935, "in anticipation of making replacements under the terms of treaties." She slid down the ways with benefit of champagne, a few days after the Germans over ran the French province that gave that beverage its name; and she put to sea for the first time, a battleship in full commission, just as an Unlimited National Emergency was proclaimed by the President of the United States.
There followed six months of intensive shaking down, in the Atlantic, in the shadow of war, during a period when our Navy was lending active aid to the nations that were to become our allies, and when we had been ordered to "shoot on sight" any vessel attempting to interfere with any shipping under American escort. We were lying at anchor in Hampton Roads when the Japs hit Pearl Harbor. Hours later came the President's speech.
Commander W. P. O. Clarke sat hunched over the radio in the Wardroom lounge; officers, their chairs pointed toward it also, filled every corner. The President's voice died away and the stirring notes of "The Star-Spangled Banner" fell upon the air. For a full minute nobody moved. Then Commander Clarke rose slowly to his feet as did the others, and so remained, relaxed in body, sober of face, until the last note. The gathering drifted out singly, without a word.
Were a member of our crew to return home on leave on this anniversary there is little that he could tell about the years that followed that day: for much of the WASHINGTON'S war record is still held in official secrecy. The veil is lifted for a few moments, however, at the time of which General Marshall writes, "The resolute defense of these Marines under General Vandergrift, and the desperate gallantry of our Naval Task Forces marked the turning point in the Pacific.
From the attack on Pearl Harbor the Jap advanced rapidly, arrogantly until the Lexington task force checked him in the Coral Sea five months later. He then lunged across the Central Pacific as far as Midway which, according to Admiral King, was the "first decisive defeat suffered by the Japanese Navy in 350 years." Unable to believe that the boundaries of his conquest had been reached, he girded his loins for a dash from the Solomons through the New Hebrides and New Caledonia to Australia. On the 7th of August the Navy landed Marines on Guadalcanal. The Jap reared back in a rage, gathered himself and flung himself upon them furiously. The din of the battle which ensued resounded for three months. When the smoke cleared, the Jap could be seen headed Northwest with his tail between his legs--and control of the sea and air in the Southern Solomons passed to the United States.
The World knows that during this three months period, six major naval battles were fought in and around the Solomons. But our sailors home on leave can only say that on the 11th of October a task force which included the new battleship WASHINGTON lay to the eastward of Malaita, while the BOISE' force fought the Battle of Cape Esperence, and that the WASHINGTON task force under Rear Admiral Willis A. Lee was nearby during the great carrier air battle of Santa Cruz two weeks later. He has one real sure-enough morsel about which he can boast, however, if someone goads him beyond endurance: The Battle of Guadalcanal.
By early November the Jap apparently saw that he wasn't making any headway. So he had gathered in the Rabaul-Buin area probably two carriers, four battleships, five heavy cruisers, thirty destroyers, and transports enough to make a decisive troop landing on Guadalcanal. On the 12th he started down The Slot with part of this force. We were too far away to intercept, but the SAN FRANCISCO force was at Guadalcanal covering the landing of our own troop reinforcements; and there followed the night action of November 12-13 which resulted in the temporary retirement of the enemy, heavy losses on both sides, and plenty of well-earned glory for our ships.
The Jap didn't wait long. On the 14th he started down again with his regrouped forces and some new ones from Truk and Rabaul. Simultaneously Admiral Lee in the WASHINGTON with SOUTH DAKOTA, PRESTON, BENHAM, WALKE and GUINN was coming up to meet him. The sun set behind New Georgia and left the World to the last-quarter moon and a few gun-flashes over beyond the Russells, the mountainous silhouette of Guadalcnnal to starboard, and the sharp peak of Savo up ahead. No speck of light, not so much as a cigarette shone from any ship of our force as it sliced silently into the Slot. By ten, with the moon on the wane, we had reached a point Northwest of Savo, full in the path of the main Jap force; yet we saw nothing. We were early, we thought, and we turned East and slowed. With Tulagi ahead we turned southeast into Ironbottom Sound which we helped to name, and headed full for Lunga. The smell of gardenias was wafted to us from Savo. Still nothing. Then our own P-T's found us -- tough outfit! Admiral Lee had to ask General Vandergrift to call them off before they slipped a few fish in us. It was pretty dark by now. At Midnight off Lunga we turned East and started out between Esperance and Savo-then we saw them! Two ships right back in the water through which we had just passed! We let go nine 16inch bricks, and so did the SOUTH DAKOTA, seconds later. The telegraphs banged over to flank speed and our wake swelled to an angry torrent. The 5-inch opened on another target. Now there were four. Our destroyers blazed away at others which we had not seen.
The smoke-watch, high on his perch on the foremast above the stacks, was blinded by the flash of our guns. He couldn't see a thing, and wondered if the Captain could either. His talker far below in Main Engine Control kept asking him what was going on -- but he couldn't see. The moon had set, and the night seemed black as ink, between flashes. Finally he made out the horizon. There seemed to be guns blazing everywhere. Then shore batteries on Savo started firing at our destroyers. He counted six of them. The shore batteries were taken under fire by our 5-inch battery, which looked like a hose of sparks directed at and silencing each in turn--or did they just stop shooting? Then the shore batteries fired torpedoes--strange! He looked over at our and the SOUTH DAKOTA's main-battery targets. He thought they looked like cruisers. The big sixteens ceased firing. He could no longer see the cruisers. Hooray! We sank them!--Or did we? He could see the SOUTH DAKOTA still shooting lethal tongues of flame. He looked up ahead. A blinding explosion--then another. Two of our destroyers had blown up. A third was hit. The torpedoes had arrived. The remaining destroyer fell off to port, hit by a shell. Now we were passing through water filled with wreckage and oil-covered men. Our machine gunners were throwing over rafts. All firing had ceased, and except for several burning ships in the distance the world returned to darkness; and the incessant roar of Suns died away.
We were rounding Savo. Suddenly, past the far side of the island to the west he saw a great dark shape. far bigger and nearer than any of the others. A searchlight on another ship somewhere behind it stabbed through the darkness and found the SOUTH DAKOTA. Instantly there was a terrific blast. The hot gasses were all around him, the mast shook like 3 sapling and he was nearly blown from his-perch. He was blinded again. Then he realized that our big guns had let go at the enemy battleship. He pressed the button of his phone and let out a cheer for the benefit of his talker down below who couldn't see all this.
The SOUTH DAKOTA fired and the light went out. Our 5-inch let loose. Then another earthquake and he watched our nine 16-inch tracers which roared in diminuendo and entered the Jap battleship and exploded. She had only two turrets firing now. Everything seemed to be flying at the SOUTH DAKOTA, and she was being hit. Another searchlight came on, the immediate results of which seemed to be that the ship on which it had been mounted rolled over and sank. Then another, which went out right away.
Down on the signal bridge the Chaplain watched the show. He had thought that this was a good central location from which he could go to the side of the wounded and dying-but there didn't seem to be any. There was only the shattering crash of artillery. He couldn't see anything but the incessant flash of the guns. He looked up, and saw a couple of tracers pass over the stacks. Up on the flag-bridge he caught a glimpse of the Admiral sitting calmly in his special chair by the bulwarks, his orderly by his side. Something he had once read flashed through his mind-something about the best defense being a vigorous offense, and about how the ship that hits the enemy first and hardest: frequently doesn't get hit at all.
The gunfire ceased. On the bridge Captain Davis strode over to the starboard wing and peered out into the darkness. He couldn't see much either, but reports kept coming in. The main battery was tracking four small targets that were headed northwest up the slot at 29 knots, and we were hot an their heels. No, Sir, nobody could find the SOUTH DAKOTA, and the Communication Officer said he couldn't raise her on anything. Damage Control had no report of any damage or casualties. The Gunnery Officer had no secondary battery targets. There were supposed to have been some transports somewhere, but none of the lookouts could see any now. The Navigator reported that he had a good fix and the waters ahead were safe. The Chief Engineer didn't report anything, but a glance at the shaft revolution indicators revealed all four pointers near the tops of the dials. He thought he had counted 26 Jap ships--.
He leaned wearily on the bulkhead and gazed out at the darkness. There was a huge explosion away out on the quarter, where the WASHINGTON's Jap Battleship had been--then darkness again. He wondered if a ship could suffer such an explosion and remain afloat--. He doubted it. He was sure it could not!
He walked a few feet aft to the flag bridge. "Must be destroyers-at 29 knots," he observed. The Admiral didn't fancy chasing comparatively replacable destroyers with a battleship which was absolutely irreplacable during this war, particularly up the Slot, and particularly when any number of other destroyers might be lurking in the shadow of the land nearby. Getting pretty well up north of the Russells. No profitable targets. The Japs in full flight wouldn't bombard our vital Henderson Field that night, nor would he ever land the full division of troops he had brought with him for the purpose of exterminating our hard-pressed Marines. The mission had been accomplished.
We turned south and slowed to 21 knots.
Down in the engine room the throttleman gazed unseeingly at his gauge-board. He had been at his battle station since six o'clock the morning before. The messenger brought him another cup of coffee. With it halfway to his lips, he jumped to his feet. "Torpedo on the starboard quarter!" His telegraph gyrated back and forth crazily and ended up on emergency flank. He put the cup on the floor-plates and spun open his throttle, suddenly no longer tired. The deck heeled sharply as the rudder went hard over. "Torpedo on the port beam!" The boilers roared, 3 safety-valve lifted somewhere, and his pointer raced upward. His throttle was wide open. For twenty minutes the reports of torpedoes continued, the deck heeled one way, then the other. He was scared! It wasn't the explosion that worried him, but the thought that one hit would slow the ship down. A helluva place to be slowed down! The JV talker counted 27 reports of torpedoes. Baloney! Those lookouts were seeing moonbeams! After an hour we slowed to 23 knots. At six the Chief Engineer, who had been dozing in his canvas backed chair, came to and called the smoke-watch.
"What do you see?"
"Nothing, Sir," came the reply. "No destroyers, no SOUTH DAKOTA. No air-cover. Nothing. But that irrepressible wagon had repaired a transmitter and reported that she was somewhere to the southeast-and a rendezvous was arranged. Then a report came in of about forty Jap planes headed our way. Still no air-cover! But they only succeeded in sending us to battle stations for another hour. They missed us. And a couple of days later both ships dropped anchor in our base, along with the new destroyer screen that Admiral Halsey sent out to meet us.
So that's that. We lost three gallant destroyers--the PRESTON, WALKE, and BENHAM. The GUINN made another port. They had absorbed the torpedo attack and probably saved us, and maybe a lot of Marines on Guadalcanal besides.
We don't know just what happened. We must have hit a lot of ships, for the Japs hightailed it for Tokyo and never came back. Guess we'll have to wait for them to tell us after the war.
Desperate Gallantry. Thanks, General Marshall! We didn't feel gallant at the time, and fortunately nobody realized that it was desperate.
The veil of secrecy descends again, and the WASHINGTON steams on behind it for another period of war activity. There are just one or two things more to be said. She's been almost continuously at sea in one war-zone or another since before the war. She has answered every bell. She has crossed all the lines of the earth's surface that they make you learn in the Geography books except the Antarctic Circle--and the war's not over yet. And don't forget this one. We think she has had as much to do as any ship in the Navy-maybe more--with that little-understood principle known as control of the sea.
PAST and FUTURE
It was a solemn but stirring moment when the U. S. S. WASHINGTON was commissioned at the Philadelphia Navy Yard, three years ago. In simple ceremonies, keyed to a time of stress, it entered the service of the Navy as the most powerful and and fastest ship of the line, challenged in that supremacy only by a sister ship.
Beneath the powerful after guns, the crew and spectators watched the Stars and Stripes unfurl from the stern as the ship went into commission. A moment later, Rear Admiral Adolphus E. Watson turned the ship over to Captain Howard H. J. Benson who took command of the vessel and issued orders to set the first watch, fourteen months ahead of schedule, breaking all shipbuilding records for line vessels.
In the three years of active duty under the commands of Captain H. H. J. Benson, Captain G. B. Davis, Captain J. E. Maher and Captain T. R. Cooley, the Washington has shown herself to be a ship with a fighting heart and a will of steel. A ship with power, strength, speed and courage to bespeak absolute command of anything afloat.
The people of the United States have decreed that this country shall have a Navy second to none. The officers and men of this ship were charged with the responsibility of making this addition to our country's battle line an effective, well-organized unit of the Navy. This we will continue to do and in so doing uphold the highest traditions of our Naval Service.
OUR EXEC
It's good to see that big smile spread all over his face when they mention her name and to hear him say,"My, what a ship!", as we approach the gangway. You get the feeling that he's mighty proud of the WASHINGTON and glad to be aboard. And well he might, because he helped put her in commission in Philadelphia three years ago and had A hand in her development from that awkward stage to full maturity. After 18 months 'communicating' he spent an equal amount of time 'navigating' her. And speaking of navigating, those of you who were aboard for the "Savo Island Party" remember well how he guided her through that hectic night. She's been pretty good to him too, so small wonder he should gaze at her so affectionately.
It seems more than a coincidence that the WASHINGTON was conceived and delivered in Philadelphia because in spite of having been born in Baltimore he calls Philadelphia his home. There is where his wife and six year old son reside, too.
Commander Schanze has had well rounded career. He entered the Naval Academy in 1922 and graduated in 1936. His first ship was the MARYLAND in which he had four years of gunnery, engineering and construction. Following this, he went to the WEST VIRGINIA where he served on the Staff of Commander Battleships for one year. In 1931-32 he was engineering officer of the STODDERT, the first radio controlled destroyer target ship. The BRAZOS claimed him as communicator from 1932-33, after which he was assigned to a postgraduate course in Applied Communications at the Naval Academy for two years.
From 1935-1938 he served in the communication and gunnery departments of the HOUSTON and was Assistant District Communication Officer of the 14th Naval District. He then served as executive officer and commanding officer of the LAUB which he turned over to the British at Halifax in October 1940. Before reporting to the WASHINGTON in the Spring of 1941 he had a brief tour of duty in the VINCENNES. The WASHINGTON knew him well as communicator and navigator and is now happy to have him as Exec. His background and affection for the WASHINGTON makes him "a natural" and you can't help repeating him, "My, what a ship."
CHANGE OF COMMANDS
Captain T. R. Cooley, the Washington's fourth skipper began his tour of duty aboard Sunday, April 23, 1944, when Captain J. E. Maher turned over command to him.
A brief ceremony was held below decks with the crew at foul weather parades due to the inclement weather. Representative groups from each division assembled in No. 7 and 8 messing compartments for the occasion.
Captain Maher, whose orders are to duty ashore, expressed the special significance of the occasion to himself when he said that the WASHINGTON would be the last of his commands at sea. Coming to this ship from the U.S.S. SAN JUAN he had received command from Captain G. B. Davis, now Rear Admiral.
After reading his orders, Captain Maher spoke briefly to the officers and crew. He told them that he had never had a finer ship and had never worked with a better crew. He repeated his belief, which he has often expressed before, that the WASHINGTON will still be afloat when the shooting stops. After these remarks, with a salute and a handshake, he turned over his command to Captain Cooley.
Following the reading of his orders, Captain Cooley expressed his wish to maintain the WASHINGTON'S splendid record and his belief that he can do so if given the same cooperation which Captain Maher received.
THE LIBRARY
The Library is readily accessible to both officers and enlisted personnel. It is not cluttered up with a lot of excess furniture, but is intended to be a comfortable Library and Reading Room. It's a grand place to read and study. Several hundred dollars worth of new books are being catalogued and added to the library. Help keep it ship-shape by placing trash in the baskets provided for this, and keep it neat and clean, for your shipmates.
PLANK OWNERS
Three years ago a fine group of officers and men put the U. S. S. WASHINGTON in commission in the Philadelphia Navy Yard. They gave her spirit and through their individual personalities gave the ship its collective personality.
Of that original group there are now aboard some sixteen who are officers and about four hundred who are enlisted personnel. Of the sixteen officers, six were enlisted at the time.
A few can recall incidents and sayings about the sixteen that have come down to us from those "early days." There was H. W. Scott who put her in commission as FC1c: "How's about a call on Pay Day? I'll be in Bunk No. 70." Ensign Sanger about which the most oft heard remark was: "See you in the 20th Century Club, Frank." Or the day the captain told V. G. Popoff, RM2c: "Son, what the H-- are you doing on my bridge in dungarees?" Lieut. Schanze queried: "Who moved that buoy in Chesapeake Bay?" Does Ch. Elec. Brinkley remember when two generators were finally "paralleled" by tying them with shoe strings side by side?
Lieut. Strother's famous: "Well done Engineers, black oil makes black smoke," or its contrast with Lieut. Campbell's "Our TBS is working, but they won't answer!" Remember when D. M. Haley, CB asked: "Say, Gresh, where's the sledge hammer?" and Gresh retorted: Just a minute, got it in my hip pocket." Does M. Perkoskie, CEM, remember the poor visibility in Norfolk when !!*?$*?! or who put out the remote control bearings for Ch. Mach. Schoenberg for his return to the ship from Philadelphia liberties.
Remember when Ensign Quinn was "the greatest lover ever to set foot on Arch Street" or Lieut. Seely was acclaimed the best judge for that jitterbug contest. Dare we ask what happened to Ensign Fargo's huge green "hearse" which sent children scurrying off the sidewalks or to Lieut. (jg) Ross's old "bib" overalls which we haven't seen around lately' Finally there was that stock reply of E. W. Tippett, SK2c, "I don't know whether we've got it, but I'll look it up in the yard ...l'm going over today."
BAND BRIEFS
"Moose" Kerr and his "Asiatic Agitators" have a lot of new gear and tunes and are awaiting for your requests. Any thing from "Mairzy Doats" to "Holiday For Strings" will be murdered at your wish. All the latest hit parade tunes are available plus, "You are Always in My Heart" for Bos'n Ricks.
As you have probably noticed, or heard, there are a few new men in the band. The trumpet section's anemic members are spiked by Howard Gatley, so you fellas in the back rows of the movies can hear, too!
The Washington's "Sympathy" or "Saloon" group is in operation, too. There are some extra instruments and you fellows with band experience could sure be used to an advantage.
While we're at it, there's a lot of hidden talent running around here. If you can sing, dance or tell censorable stories now's a good time to prepare for your debut. The band rehearses each morning and afternoon so drop around. (You don't need a chit here!)
MOTHER-- If on God's earth there is a word, A word held dear, by one and all, |
ZERO
The U. S. S. WASHINGTON has the only Zero which roams the Pacific unmolested. He's our ship's mascot. The name is not taken from the targets produced by the Mitsubishi factories, but comes from a black circle around the dog's starboard eye.
Zero is a small mascot for a large and powerful ship, but he makes up in enthusiasm what he lacks in tonnage. When he "followed" a chief aboard and volunteered for duty about a year ago, he was only six inches overall. Since that time he has grown about the same rate as the rest of the Navy and is quite a dog now.
As a regular member of the ship's company, Zero has a health record, a pay account and a liberty card. He is a member of the 1st Division. His battle station is in the Lower Handling room of Turret One.
At present he is serving as a Master-at-Arms in charge of reveille for men sleeping topside.
Zero has two uniforms; undress Whites, strictly G. I. and tailor made dress Blues. It is a heart warming sight to see him swagger ashore on liberty with his campaign bars pinned to his Blues. He heads eagerly for the bright lights knowing that where there are bright lights there are lamp posts and other diversions. But lamp posts moored in concrete are rather tame for a dog accustomed to a heaving deck and he is soon ready to go back aboard ship and resume his duties.
Girl friend to sailor entranced, "What would you do if you had money?" |
CAPERS
A man and his wife were suffering from seasickness, while their young son seemed to be enjoying the situation.
Finally the mother mustered courage voice enough to say,
"John, I wish you would speak to Willie."
The father, unable to lift his head, said feebly,
"Hello, Willie."
Notice in a Scotch Church:
"Those in the habit of putting buttons instead of coins in the collection plate will please put in their own buttons and not buttons from the cushions on the pews."
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SHIP'S BIRTHDAY MENU
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DIVINE SERVICES
Catholic-- Protestant-- |
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