August 8, 1942: Enthusiastic about going on watch this morning. Can’t explain why, for it was very much like any other times. But the stars seemed brighter and a good stiff breeze put pep into me. I was able to hesitate momentarily, at times, between searching for subs, to really enjoy the beauty and calm of the seas. As I gazed up, almost directly above me, I could see the Seven Sisters, all arranged to resemble a very tiny dipper. (As a kid, I always thought this was the Little Dipper). I would not exchange the bright starts at sea on a clear blue night for all of Broadway…[After morning broke], we made it safely and delivered our charge undamaged and untouched by any enemy sub. Molokai looked only like a very dark cloud on the western horizon as we churned on towards Kauai. This latter island (my first sight of it) is a very beautiful one. The northwestern tip shows very plainly that it was once a volcano for all around the shoreline, sheer cliffs of volcanic rock ranging in many colors, rise up to irregular heights. Deep ravines, some of which have edges as sharp as cut glass, run down to the water’s edge. High up on its beautiful slopes, which are painted a deep green by verdant tropical growth, one can pick out a silver waterfall, several hundred feet high. At the base of, and between the two highest mountain peaks, lies the island town of Kahului, on a very flat plain that seems to be just high enough to make it dry land. The harbor is neatly tucked away behind a breakwater, only one pier is visible and then only when in close, for besides its brown-green spottier camouflage, many trees are growing along its side. All this natural beauty, so amateurishly described here, was further enhanced by the sunrise. The sun, unhindered by clouds rose up over our port side, to cast a glowing red upon the already careful topography. And above the volcanic peaks, hovered a large cloud that changed from dark grey to soft pink, and deep blue as the sun kissed its wooly edges. Only we, those on the ship and those on a lone plane that came out to escort us in, were around to appreciate the golden picture of sunshine across Kahului bay. It is also doubtful if everyone appreciated the art that nature so effortlessly painted on a tropical canvas out in the blue Pacific, the part of the ocean that is really blue and peaceful – that is, when there are no Japanese submarines around to disturb it.
October 18, 1953
Dear Friend,
The Armistice in Korea has brought an end to the actual hostilities there and has paved the way for political conferences which, we hope, will bring lasting peace to this portion of the globe. Since the armistice, you have probably been wondering, “why must my son, husband, or loved ones stay so far from home when there is no war?” I would like to take this opportunity to attempt an answer to that question.
As you know, an armistice is not a peace treaty; but, instead, just an agreement to cease fighting while attempts are made to reach a settlement which will end the argument and lead to peace… We still have a job to do,…we cannot leave this area until the job is done or until someone else takes our place in that job.
Meanwhile, we have to combat the boredom which naturally arises during long days and nights at sea. There are still watches to be stood, engines to be kept running, and all the multitude of individual tasks which must be performed with constant efficiency in order to keep our ship operating as it should. All these individual tasks go into the makeup of the teamwork required aboard ship. The tasks do not require all our time, though, and the leisure hours frequently drag by with irritating slowness. Exercise is a little hard to come by in a ship the size of ours – she’s only 306 feet long by 36 feet wide, and most of that space is taken up by guns and machinery – so we have to find other means of working off excess energy and of keeping our interest in daily activities alive.
“Whenever we get into port, we schedule softball and basketball games. Those games help provide some of the physical exercise which we miss when we’re at sea for long periods. During some of the ‘at sea’ periods, we have opportunities to anchor the ship in protected waters close to some scenic island and have “swimming call.” While at anchor, the recreation locker is open to those who wish to take out fishing tackle and try their luck with Oriental fish, too.”
…We have movies every evening – on deck if the weather is good, in the mess hall during rainy or rough weather. The Armed Forces Radio Service, with about eight broadcasting stations in the Far East Network, provides us our favorite ‘stateside’ programs as well as major league ball games, other sports events, and news broadcasts…
© Lindajoy Fenley 2006
