| Copyright 2006
SYNOPSIS AND COMMENTS ON LST 1126 LOG ENTRIES WHILE THE SHIP WAS ON MISSION AS A SUPPLY SHIP IN THE MARSHALL ISLANDS FROM DECEMBER 6, 1952 THROUGH JULY 20, 1953 PREPARED IN OCTOBER 2006 BY JACK W. MILLER, NASHVILLE, TN E-MAIL ADDRESS: LST1126@comcast.net In an earlier account, I described my call-up from teaching in a Minnesota elementary school to active Naval duty in September 1952. My previous service had involved basic training and then assignment to the aircraft carrier Midway, CVB-41, in the Atlantic Fleet. On the Midway, I worked as a "striker" in electronic repair. My job involved being on a team that maintained Mark 34 gun control radar units. Each radar unit controlled two gun tubs, each with a four-barreled set of 40mm anti-aircraft guns and a large crew of aimers and loaders. When the radar locked onto an attacking plane, the eight guns in the two quad mounts would have the proper lead and vertical angle to shoot it down. It did very well with the WW-II Corsairs and torpedo bombers which flew in the 200-400 MPH range, but could not keep up with the Banshee jets that were just going into service on the big Midway, Roosevelt, and Coral Sea aircraft carriers. After one year of service, I was honorably discharged and re-assigned to reserve duty for a period of five years. That obligation also could be fulfilled by a recall to active duty for up to 24 months. (With the Korean War call-up, I actually served something over 20 months, nearly all of it on LST 1126.) Interestingly, both the Midway (now an immensely popular museum ship in San Diego) and the LST 1126 remained on active duty for unusually long periods of time -- each for 25 or more years. While the 1126 did not make museum status, a slightly earlier version and nearly identical ship, the LST 325, continues on with a home berth in Evansville, Indiana. As with the description entitled "LST 1126 1952-1953 History: Marshall Islands Trip," the account which follows is based on photo copies of the ship's smooth log, now declassified from "Restricted" and available, for a price, from the National Archives. Because the Marshall Islands have been the locus for secret operations and tests, and continue to be, the accounts which follow are based mainly on official log entries and other open and public sources, with care that any added anecdotal material would not compromise information that might remain classified. Bikini Atoll, as readers may know, is somewhere in the process of being restored to survivors and descendants of the original small population of 167 persons. Attempts to simply move back continue to be thwarted by health concerns. However, it is possible to sign up for scuba diving on the many wrecked ships sunken in the Bikini lagoon. These include German and Japanese warships in American hands after World War II and U. S. ships of many types, including the USS Saratoga, CV-3. The Saratoga still has planes and other artifacts on it and, with the clear water and white coral bottom of the lagoon, allows an amazing experience for the diving groups. Search a bit on www.bikini@ntamar.com and you will find additional information. A note on the crew of the LST 1126 in 1952-53: Elsewhere on Buddy Benton's site, you will see a photo of nearly all of the crew on board in November 1952. I can date it with some certainty because my service record shows my promotion from Seaman Apprentice to Seaman was effective as of October 16, 1952. If you look at the lower left section of the photo, about one row back, seated on the left end of that row. I have my white hat cocked a bit to starboard and my left arm up to reveal my three new stripes. Next to me is my best buddy, Duane, "Bud" Lowery, who I met in Seattle when we both arrived on September 22-23 for mandated return to active duty. Bud was from South Dakota and always a good friend. We decided jointly on whether we would transfer off the 1126 and go on to Japan and Korea. We were promised better jobs if we agreed to remain on board. Bud was discharged one day ahead of me in May 1954, and stayed in San Diego and extra day. Bud; Deanie; our baby son, Steven; and I drove back together -- first to the Cavour, South Dakota Lowery farm where we had a meal and then the three Millers on to Kabekona, Minnesota where my father was the District Forest Supervisor, my mother taught school, and Haroldine's family had a family grocery store and tourist cabin business. Officers in the photo, left to right, are Edward K. Walsh, Allan V. Palmer, Richard A. Rohleder, John H. Mehus, Donald R. Wilkinson, L. E. Gallagher, and A. V. Hays. Mehus (the ship's captain), Rohleder, and Wilkinson were Lieutenants; Gallagher was a Lieutenant, JG; the others were Ensigns. Behind the officers are the chief petty officers. Best known to those who have been to recent 1126 reunions is the second from the left, B. E. "Gene" Merrill, a quartermaster. The last chief in the line-up is Roland B. "Smitty" Smith -- a gunner's mate and the ship's barber. Please see the earlier "Marshall Islands Trip" for how I came to be on the 1126, movements along the west coast of the U. S. in September and early October of 1952, the voyage from San Diego to Hawaii to Guam, the ship's reassignment to the Marshalls, arrival at Eniwetok Atoll on December 6, and first voyage to Bikini Atoll on December 10th. Here are some additional notes on that time period. The log shows that the 1126 crossed the International Date Line going east at 22:25 on Saturday, November 8, 1952 -- which instantly made it 22:25 Sunday, November 9th. Then, on a more serious note and perhaps reflective of the pressures and tensions of a very young and newly reconstituted crew headed for a war in Asia is the entry on Saturday, November 15, 1952 about a steward's mate in officers country (name intentionally withheld by JWM): "09:30 ( Blank) TA, USN, was placed on the binnacle list with lacerations of middle and ring finger, right hand. Injury was within this command, patient was not at work and injury was due to the patient's own misconduct. Injury was self inflicted in the wardroom pantry with a butcherknife. Patient is to be transferred to U. S. Naval Hospital, Guam, for NP observation." I recall some additional details about the tragic event. Apparently, the young fellow, probably just out of boot camp, reported aboard ship on the day before departure from San Diego. Life aboard the ship was difficult with the voyage to Hawaii and then on toward Guam. Ships have to operate 24 hours per day; seasickness is common, particularly in a diesel-driven vessel with no vertical exhaust system (the engine exhaust on World War Two model LSTs came out of openings on both sides of the hull toward the stern). If there was a following wind of about 10-12 miles per hour (the speed of the lumbering, flat-bottomed vessel), all aboard breathe the exhaust in and out. Joining the Navy and having to act as a servant, cleaning rooms and serving meals, with the assignment based on race, could add more pressure and dissatisfaction. In any event, the account I heard at the time was that the young sailor got into an argument with a petty-officer superior, received an order, and said something to the effect of "I'll show you . . . . !" and slammed the butcher knife down on his right fingers. When I saw him in his bunk near mine, in the after crew quarters, his hand was bandaged heavily and he was unconscious from sedation. After we had been in Guam a few days, he was transferred to the Naval Hospital there. I made an inquiry about his condition in the hospital and learned that he was in the Psychiatric Ward and would be discharged from service in the Navy when he recovered from his hand injury. I also recall another new sailor, who boarded in San Diego. He was reported by fellow recruits to have had a difficult time in boot camp. He came from an extremely religious family and was apparently advised by them, and perhaps his minister, to always have a Bible close at hand. For this recruit, maintaining allegiance to your faith evidently meant carrying the Bible in one hand while drilling on the training center "grinder." Other behaviors led to problems for his training company, punishments to the group, and general ostracism by his mates. Having grown up in a family with a good-natured father who often was the only friend some individuals had, and being a teacher committed to working with whatever children came to my classroom -- and their family members -- I became one of this sailor's few "friends." We stood watch in the bow of the ship together a few times and got reasonably well acquainted. Still, he remained a fellow who did not fit in as a crew member. Late one afternoon, while we were out in the Pacific between Pearl Harbor and Guam, he was observed down on the stern anchor (there is a ladder of sorts welded to the hull) with a ditty bag of laundry. Whether this represented bad and weird judgment about danger and washing your laundry or was the prelude to a suicide attempt is unknown. Anyhow, the sailor was transferred off the ship at Guam and sent on overseas to Japan or Korea. My final recollection of this shipmate, one that has stayed with me for many years, was an occurrence where he did something unusual and ridiculous from a sailor's point of view. Everyone laughed, including me. The fellow was embarrassed but silent, as always. Later, we were on the deck and he said to me, "Miller, I thought you were my friend, my only friend." I was struck dumb -- and ashamed of myself. I apologized for my behavior -- and have remembered the incident many times when I was on the verge of joining in laughing at someone who had made a mistake. Years later, as a professor who often worked with graduate students from other countries, I learned to concentrate on what individuals mean when they speak -- not necessarily on the words themselves. I always hoped they would do the same when I came to their country! |
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