Admiral W S Benson (AP 120) - Naval Cruise Book

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THE SAGA OF THE BENSON By E. M. NICKERSON. BMIc Since all good biographies begin with vital statistics, so must this Saga of a sound and trusty ship, our home for the last fourteen months, conform with standard procedure. The Admiral W. S. Benson, (API 20) was conceived in the Bethlehem shipyard, Alameda Branch on 10 December, 1942, and designed for ultimate use as a luxury liner of 22,380 tons, with an overall length of 608.1 I feet. Built on temporary lines as a navy transport with a pas- senger capacity of 4800 enlisted and 263 officers and spaces for ship ' s company of 533, she was the first of a fleet of ten ships of her class with a cruising range (without refueling) of 34 days, and capable of a speed of 21.3 knots. She was the largest ship constructed on the West Coast since the Battleship California was launched on 20 November, 1943, and was turned over to the Navy on 23 August, 1944, on which date she became our home. Commissioning day will be a long remembered event in our lives. The almost unbelievable confusion, mislaid equipment and all the attendant misfortunes which all ships undergo while in the throes of labor-pains, were with us on that day and then some. Surely, we thought, we can never get this ship squared away, plus the fact that seventy-five percent of the crew had never been to sea before, which didn ' t help matters any. But commission her we did, and in grand style too; and when the Bos ' un piped for his mates and set the first sea watch, little did we know that in the next fourteen months, she would take us all over the world and cover almost 150,000 miles; most of it in overseas waters to be considered one of the most efficient transports in the service. After spending about five days at the Naval Supply Docks taking on provisions, we sailed for San Pedro to undergo our shakedown cruise. Now a shakedown cruise Is difficult to explain to a landlubber, for It is an experience so startling, soul-shaking, and disillusioning as to beggar description. For three weeks you are subjected to drills, more drills; rigging every conceivable piece of equipment, and then unrigging it, and learning to do right the hard way; refueling at sea, crash stops, zig-zag, firing practice, fire drills, collision drills, abandon ship, gas attack, drills, drills. Practice must make perfect. By the end of the first week, you greet your buddies with a malignant stare; you hate the navy and wonder how in the devil they ever won a battle, and you mutter dire imprecations against your officers. This finally came to an end for us — only to start all over again! For several more weeks we became a training ship and proceeded to train pre-commissioninq crews in the same manner, until finally the ship and crew, on the verge of collapse, retired to Todd Shipyard in San Pedro for 30 days rest and badly needed repairs. Would we ever go to sea, we wondered? We began to refer to our Big B as the U. S. S. Never-Sail. TRIP NO. I The great day finally came. 28 November, 1944. We set sail from San Pedro with a capa- city load of Doggies bound for Bombay, India. Before we were out of sight of the Breakwater, most of our passengers and crew were sea-sick. What a mess! The first big event at sea came on 6 December, on day north of the equator. For several days previous, conspirinq shellbacks had gathered in dark corners to plot unspeakable indig- nities upon the lowly pollywogs, which, unfortunately for them (the shellbacks) outnumbered them about eight to one. So this day, pandemonium reiqned supreme. The pollywoqs had done a little conspiring on their own, and loosed all available firehoses on the boat deck upon their salty brothers in the traditional water fight. The shellbacks had their revenge the next day with interest, however, for as we crossed the line . King Neptune and his diabolical Court came aboard and subjected the neiphytes to a rigorous initiation (a gross understate- ment), the likes of which, to quote the Captain, he had never seen in all his naval career. Several days later, we crossed another rubicon — the I 80th Meridian, and thus also became members of the Realm of the Golden Dragon. Now were salty indeed, albeit somewhat black and blue, but then it was worth it, and we knew we ' d have our turn next time — if our wounds healed by then. 19 ' ■ ' yyyyy l ' '