THEIR PLACE IN HISTORY: An Anthology of WWII Autobiographies

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THEIR PLACE IN HISTORY

iUniverse, Inc.

Chapter One

THE FIGHTING FANNY BEE

Nick (Lester Duane) Carter was one of four high school graduates who had planned to join the Navy. Nick had grown up in Plains, a small town with a population 900-1000, north of Missoula, Montana. He enlisted in Butte, Montana on his 18th birthday in 1933. At the time it seemed like the logical thing to do. Our country was not at war, it was during the Depression and jobs were scarce. Nick said, "And I had it planned so I could retire after 30 years at age 48."

"I went by train to Salt Lake City, Utah where I was actually sworn in to the Navy. From there eighteen new recruits boarded the train for San Diego, California for basic training. This was my first time to see the Pacific Ocean. I had plans for entering Aviation Training, that option was closed as well as my first choice had been to go to Music School and play in the Navy band. The music school wasn't taking applicants. So I was advised to go on one of the battleships or one of two carriers that had a band aboard the ship. So I agreed to go on the USS LEXINGTON (CV2)."

Nick's first sea duty was aboard an old 4-stacker, the USS TWIGGS, #144, a Wickes class destroyer left over from WWI. Nick draped his hammock over his sea bag, which held all his earthly possessions and went aboard for his first trial run to Long Beach. His first trial was to remember to duck real low to get his 6'+ frame and the bulky sea bag on his shoulder every time he entered a hatchway. They got over to the LEXINGTON from the TWIGGS motor launch. The carrier was about the biggest thing Nick had ever seen. When it rolled one direction the gangway went under water, so you had to wait until it rolled toward the motor launch and cleared the water. Then you jumped off, ran up the gangway and entered the ship.

Nick was temporarily assigned to the X division. He didn't know one end from the other and his first routine operation meant a complete sweep down of the ship's deck. The LEXINGTON is an aircraft carrier with about 2 1/2 acres of flight deck and every square inch was swept. His first long range cruise was through the Panama Canal and along the east coast. Heading back toward the west coast, they stopped in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba for three weeks for gunnery training with the anti-aircraft guns projected 5 inch shells.

"I continued my training when the ship was scheduled for short-range target practice in the Pacific. The target plane towed the target about 1000 feet behind on a predetermined scheduled course. Each gun had colored projectiles to identify successful hits. After the first shot was fired, I experienced for the first time the explosive percussion of the blast, the lost sense of smell, and smoke roiling into my vision. I couldn't see anything but flame and they did this three times in succession and the shots were seldom accurate. This was not a pleasant experience for me.

The 4th Division also had the motor launch and that looked interesting to me, so he nagged a 2nd class boatman's mate to join the motor launch crew. In July, I was finally assigned to the motor launch crew. A crew of 6-8 aviation people with aircraft parts was aboard the 50' supply boat. My excitement waned as we neared the 900 ft. LEXINGTON. The coxswain yelled, Don't hook up; follow the ship out to sea to calmer waters. The waves only got higher and the troughs deeper while Eddy Yonts and I were bailing water only to have the wind blow it back into the boat. After a half hour of the boat rolling in the waves from bow to stern, everyone aboard was seasick as well. It was hard to bail sea water from the boat and heave from your own stomach at the same time.

Eight-inch cables with hooks designed to be attached through a 10-inch ring on each end of the boat. The cables alongside were hooked to the aft, but neither Eddy nor I could get the cable hooked to the bow. The cozswain yelled down, "Hook on, hook on!" When the coxswain in boat pocket ordered the hoist, the aft of the boat was elevated to a 70-degree angle with the 16-ton boat dangling above abnormal storm waves as high as 30 ft. 'Unhook, unhook!' On the second attempt, we got it hooked on properly. That 16-ton boat nearly filled with seawater and a sick crew, shuddered as it was hoisted up toward the pocket.

Just as we reached the starboard boat pocket the ship listed to the starboard side and all the seawater from the flight deck ran into our boat. The side legs of the motor launch broke flipping most of the aviation crew and water into the boat pocket. The motor launch crew was still in the boat, which was now hanging precariously from the boat pocket. The ship's carpenters had to drill holes in the boat and drain the water out until they could elevate it into the boat pocket. This had been to date the most frightening experience of my life. I wasn't so sure now that I wanted to be in the motor launch division."

Nick had taken an interest in the aircraft squadron, so he and his buddy Eddy Yonts got transferred to the BT-1 aviation squadron of dive-bombers. Now Nick had his feet on the ground at North Island, but still operated on the LEXINGTON for operations. It was during this period in his Navy career that he feels he grew up. In January of 1935, Nick, was transferred to V-2 Division, which takes care of the flight deck of the LEXINGTON.

"My first experience in the V-2 Division would have horrendous results that he would always remember. The aircraft were lined up on the flight deck for takeoff, and there was a chock man, 'brown shirts', on each side to pull out the chocks/wedge as they 'walked the planes' up the flight deck for takeoff. Chocks were place behind the wheels to keep the plane from rolling back into the plane behind him. And they were placed in front of the wheel as the pilot revved up his plane.

"As the skipper of the squadron up to the take off spot, I didn't have the chocks in front of the wheel reversed so they could be pulled out quickly. The skipper had his plane engine revved up to full power for takeoff into 25-30 knots of wind before the plane could take off and the pilot released the brake. The 'yellow shirt' was supposed to check the chocks before he signaled all clear to the pilot. He didn't notice that I wasn't able to pull one of his chocks clear of he left wheel. In a matter of a split-second the pilot of the Great Lakes Dive Bomber lifted his foot off the brake. His plane took an immediate nosedive; the prop hit the deck, spun the plane around chewing up the flight deck. I thought my Navy career had ended right there.

Everyone involved were called up to the Bridge; the Captain heard the pilot's story first. Because the flight deck officer should have checked the chocks before giving the all-clear signal to the pilot, I was dismissed. However, it wasn't long after that I was transferred to the VB-1 squadron.

"During 1935 North Island was home to all four of the Navy's carriers-the USS LANGLEY, LEXINGTON, SARATOGA, and RANGER. During the 1930s activities at the air station were of fundamental importance to the development of combat tactics and logistical support systems that became the foundation for the subsequent success of the Pacific Theater by Navy carriers in the war against Japan.

"I participated in the search in early July of 1937 ordered by President Roosevelt for aviatrix Amelia Earhart. Her plane went down somewhere in the Pacific. Nine Navy ships and sixty-six aircraft were involved. The most extensive sea and air search took place in naval history when we scoured 250,000 square miles of the Pacific at the cost of $4 million. The United States government reluctantly called off the search after seventeen day of intense attempts to find some trace of Amelia Earhart."

At this point Nick and Eddy were transferred in August of 1940 to the ORA (Overhaul and Repair Assembly) as aircraft mechanics on North Island. In the beginning Nick worked in the section for engine assembly. Prior to the war, Navy aircraft was being refurbished, repaired and overhauled at North Island. In 1941 when Pearl Harbor was attacked, Nick was promoted to Chief, while still working on the test line.

The overall structure of the facilities was revised overnight at North Island. Nick was now in charge of the test line and the crews worked around the clock in three shifts. The personnel worked in one of six sections, rotating with one day off. Planes waiting on the test line to be deemed structurally sound that had numbered two or three now numbered thirty-five. Immediately after Pearl Harbor was bombed, a squadron of Army Air Corps P-38s from March Field arrived and provided an important part of the coastal defense.

Now as Chief Petty Officer Carter, Nick was in charge of the mechanical and ground testing. More experienced personnel were required and NIck's responsibilities increased from 1942 to September of 1943 on North Island. One of those new responsibilities was a young Treva Schultz from Iowa. She had come to San Diego to visit with her grandfather and uncle. When she met Nick, from Plains, Montana, she was working in a French Dressmaker's shop. They were married Oct. 7, 1942 while Nick duty was stationed on North Island.

Civilian men and women came to work at North Island to help support the operating forces in the Pacific. Those forces included over a dozen aircraft carriers, the Coast Guard, Army, Marines and Seabees. In September of 1943, the Navy chose to give out some commissions to enlisted personnel, Nick and three other men were commissioned as Ensigns. He was transferred to the Transitional Land Unit (TLU) near Miramar where the focus had changed from land based single engine bombers to land based four-engine bombers such as the PB4Y-1, built by Consolidated Aircraft in San Diego, California.

In May of 1944, Nick was transferred to a carrier aircraft service unit (CASU-2) in Pearl Harbor, specifically Barbers Point. The new air station quickly became a hub of aviation activity as the Navy amassed forces in Hawaii to carry the war across the Pacific. Base operations centered on working up carrier air groups and squadrons for deployment to combat operations farther west. Again, Ensign Carter was the Aircraft Maintenance Officer at Barbers Point for another four months with the CASU-2 to work on various planes.

The USS FANSHAW BAY, (CVE-70), an escort (often called jeep) carrier, had returned to Pearl Harbor about June 1, 1944 for replenishment, training and final preparations for the assault on Saipan. When Nick boarded the escort carrier he was seriously mistaken as to the duties of that carrier: "I thought they would be ferrying aircraft from the states to the forward areas. The FANSHAW BAY became a part of the Amphibious Navy, also known as THE FIGHTING FANNY BEE.

"Our duty became more hazardous, when our pilots gave aircraft cover support for the Marines landing on several islands, including Saipan. I was now the Aircraft Maintenance Officer for all aircraft operations aboard the FANSHAW BAY. That included repairing and/or replacing any damaged or worn out parts of the planes, the engines, armaments or equipment.

On the FANSHAW BAY we carried the Grumman F4F, Wildcats, and later on the FM-2s which were stubby naval fighters. Although they were obsolete against the Japanese Zero, the F4F's superior tactics, ruggedness, and firepower made it more than a match for its advisory. Some Grumman TBF GM TBMs were also aboard, which was the finest torpedo bomber of the war. They were extremely stable, rugged and roomy. Pilots and crew found it heavy on the controls but easy to land on the carrier. They were effective when it was necessary to bore in on the enemy ships at water level in Japanese anti-aircraft fire.

"Ensign Carter's responsibility as Hanger Deck officer for all aircraft was to make sure that all aircraft aboard the carrier were fueled and combat ready, with operational guns and ammunition loaded, engines in tune and ready to be lifted from the hanger by the fore and aft elevator to and from the flight decks. Practically all planes on the FANSHAW BAY were catapulted from the shorter flight deck of this smaller jeep carrier.

"June 15, our US forces invaded Saipan with amphibious forces. The FANSHAW BAY had been operating about 30 miles east of Saipan launching antisubmarine patrols, combat air patrols, photo reconnaissance flights and providing cover from the Japanese fortified sections for the Marines landing on the beaches of Saipan. During the amphibious invasion, the FANSHAW BAY was attacked twice by enemy aircraft and only by skillful maneuvering avoided two 14-inch torpedo shells. I stood on the deck mesmerized as I watched an enemy torpedo literally hit our stern and bounce along the starboard side of the ship below my position several times without exploding. To say that it was a miracle that we weren't blown out of the water is an understatement.

"Two days later during the course of my next real experience of combat, the ship was under fire from nearly 70 Japanese planes. The aft elevator was hit by a bomb that exploded in mid-air above the hanger deck, killing 14 and wounding 23 crew members. Fire broke out and the fire main was ruptured, flooding several compartments in the aft elevator. Members of the repair crew dove beneath the water line to clear handfuls of asbestos from the intake valves of the pumps. Other crewmen bailed water; the blast had shredded a thick braid of intertwined electrical cables, which had begun to burn. Molten chunks of conductive alloy dripped onto a rack of aerial torpedoes stacked on the hanger deck. Only the Lord knows why they didn't explode and sink the ship.

"During the hours it took to control the damage, everyone was doing their jobs just as they were trained. We were fueled by adrenalin, gut instinct, and the necessity to respond immediately. We had little time to guess what could happen from one moment to the next: training and instinct were their only weapons. The ship was taking on water in the bombed aft elevator and the first assumption was that we were taking in seawater. Ironically, it was the ship's damage control water system that was punctured and the system was a float in water. Once the valves were turned off, they quit taking on water. With the fire out, the FANSHAW BAY left seriously wounded, she listed 3 degrees to the port side, and settled 6 feet by the stern. Rear Adm. Bogan was transferred to a destroyer before the FANSHAW BAY sailed to Pearl Harbor for repairs.

"ON the lighter side, while we were in Pearl Harbor, the crew was given permission to go ashore. Out on the ocean the sailors had been wearing their blues, absolutely no whites. As the sailors in dress whites came up to me, I was the Officer of the Day, to go ashore by passing his inspection. One particular sailor will always standout above the rest, I had to refuse him permission to go ashore. Apparently he had lost his white uniform hat and was wearing blue. I told him that he had to have a "white" hat, no exceptions. So the sailor took his blue hat off wadded it up as he turned away. He returned a few minutes later wearing a very wet and freshly spray painted white hat. I gave him permission to go ashore!

"The FANSHAW BAY arrived at Manus on August 28, 1944 for training in preparation and operational readiness for the invasion of Morotai, for which she sailed September 10, with Rear Admiral Clifton A.F. ("Ziggy") Sprague as the new division commander. Her planes flew combat air patrol and support missions, and on 16 September provided air cover for one of the pilots, down just a few hundred feet off the enemy-held shore of Wasile Bay. Diving low, they provided protection until two daring motor torpedo boats dashed and snatched him right out from under enemy shore guns.

"The escort carrier replenished at Manus between Oct. 7th and 12th, and then put out for the invasion of Leyte on October 20. Through the first 4 days of combat on land, sea and in the air, FANSHAW BAY operated off Samar, launching combat air patrol, antisubmarine patrols, observation flights and drops of psychological warfare material. She continued executing raids and strikes in direct support of the troops ashore. There were airmen, sailors and marines fueled with pure adrenalin and possessing the overwhelming fear of being at the wrong location at the wrong moment. I experienced a macabre fascination as I watched horrific combat as it appeared in every direction as if it had been filmed in slow motion. Anything could and did happen during these macabre battle surroundings."

Warned on Oct. 24th that Japanese surface ships were on the move, all her aircraft flew off the deck of the FANSHAW BAY early in the morning to attack the enemy. While the escort carriers retired from the threat of the Japanese surface ships, far faster, and with far greater fire power. Just 6 minutes after her planes were ordered away, the ship came under fire from the Japanese cruisers, and although a heavy rain squall shielded the escort carriers briefly, she soon began receiving hits. She had taken a third hit, under fire from two Japanese destroyers and two cruisers, while American destroyers fought to protect their remaining carriers. The escort carrier, USS GAMBIER BAY, had been sunk after being capsized in the earlier part of the battle.

Rear Admiral Sprague's greatest achievement came on Oct. 25, when his Task Unit 77.4.3 (Taffy III) consisting of 6 escort carriers, 3 destroyers, and 4 destroyer escorts fought off the vastly superior Japanese Center Force. The Japanese force consisted of 4 battle ships, 6 heavy cruisers, and 11 destroyers off the island of Samar in the Philippines. Japanese kamikaze (Devine Wind) Special Attack Corp crashed into the USS STAINT LO (CVE-63) sending her to the bottom.

(Continues...)

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Excerpted from THEIR PLACE IN HISTORY by Sharon J. Nicholson Copyright © 2011 by Sharon J. Nicholson. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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