California (BB 44) - Naval Cruise Book

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They flew so slowly, they looked almost stationary in the sky. On this particular mom- ing, the plane skimmed the water for an unex- pected length of time. It just lingered. Then with a sigh, it settled into a cushion of foam and waves. Contact with the water bothered its forward motion until it came to rest in the channel. When it began to taxi on to the Ford Is- land Hangar, I tumed back to watch the duty band form for colors. Nearly a half hour had passed since I first came out to watch the mom- ing activities. Waiting for Wanat and the next Liberty launch, I heard the bugler blow firs-t call. Watched the prep flag fluttering from the halyard as it scampered into its position snug against the yardarm. Thatis when I heard the sound of a diving airplane, a sound so unmistakable it chills my blood to remember it. Looking up and to the right of the prep flag, I could see the plane dive straight toward Ford Island airstrip. I could see it through the yard arm high above the 14 inch gun turrets. There it was, the plane. Dropping a bomb as it sped steadily downward, the Japanese red rising sun blazoned on the knife-pointed wings, the diving plane appeared to stop dead in the air for on instant in the window of my mind. That one frame in my mental movie of the moment has remained stark and real to me for these many years. The bomb fell. It exploded on the runway. I couldn't see the explosion because the gun turrets were between me and Ford Island. I did hear the burst and saw the debris fly high in the air above the turret and beyond the ship. How could I believe my eyes...? I had to. It was happening right near me. Japanese planes were bombing Pearl Harbor. One minute I'm standing on the deck of a mighty battle- ship on a bright tropical Pearl Harbor morning in Hawaii. The next minute Japanese pilots and I want to kill each other. A band from another ship started to play colors as the next plane dived and dropped another bomb closer to the ship. l'Red Luckenbach was in the Chiefis quarters at the time and didn't witness the first falling bombs. Dave Kennedy, the assistant bandmaster saw the explosions, and dismissed the Calpfornia Band to battle stations. They headed for the rec room in quick time while a signalman made an effort to secure colors to the jack. He didn't make it, The Battleship Caldornia fought through the entire conflict without benefit of colors in place. They were retrieved by a swimmer, later, who dived over- board. I paused only a moment to look about for Frank one more time. Then headed for my battle station four decks below the main deck. I could hear the bos'n's pipe calling for atten- tion over the ship's public address system and the marine who announced in an excited voice Battle Stations! '!Battle Stations! General Quarters! General Quarters! General Quarters ! This is no shit. We're at war! I headed full tilt, ready to wilt, down one ladder, then two then three. Finally, I arrived at my station on the fourth deck below the main deck. Happened to be the first one there. Grabbed the earphones and the mike, and heard the sound of pounding footsteps as others be- gan to arrive. Three carpenters and a machinistis mate followed Manley, our bass horn player. Others, who made up the full working crew, gathered in the dim light of the small compartment. Surprisingly enough, the entire repair party of 14 men, including I and a Chief shipfitter, assembled within a few short minutes. Somebody said, 'fHere we go again. The same group had assembled in the same way nearly a week and a half before when the ship went to general quarters at sea. There was a sub sighting at that time. We were in a general quarters, condition red status for I8 hours over that matter. So here we were once again. The Chief sight read the muster. Mem- bers of the repair party all present and ac- counted for?', We all nodded and, standing half way up the ladder, he dogged the overhead hatch into a tight and secure position. Responsible mem- bers of the repair crew closed and secured the other doors fore and aft. Most of us settled into our General Quarters assignments with a rea- sonable amount of practiced ease. We made the commitment. We sealed our- selves into a small underwater compartment. Sealed in from the tops including fore and aft. No getting out until something favorable hap- pens outside. No water, no head facilities, no deck chairs or mattresses, and no personal be- longings. Just steel decks, bulkheads covered with multi-coats of paint, and sealed watertight doors. One ladder that led up to a sealed hatch offered some reserve psychological comfort, but not for long. Central communications asked for a re- port and I spoke into the microphone for the first time to the unseen, unknown voice on the other end: Repair four port all present and accounted for, Sirf' Repair four port, Aye, stand by for further orders. Repair four port, Ayef' Then...an unbelievable concussion! We could feel the heaving bending steel plates...the shaking and shuddering...the pitching deck that caused us to lose our balance...slipping and sliding into the oil and water that leaked through the watertight doors sprung by the explosions...the tearing noises that came from the backfire of the exploding torpedoesmmuffled screams of wounded, dy- ing, terrorized men...the awful stench...the al- most human groans as the wounded vessel foundered and began to sink in the Harbor mud. We felt and heard an explosion aft. It had the same feeling and sound that comes from firing the big guns. The force of the seizure actually picked up the ship within its mooring lines. Then it settled back down again, yawing a bit fore and aft as it settled. The aft watertight door sprang a leak. Water and oil poured into the compartments. lt swirled in with about the same force and quantity you get from a faucet running about two thirds open. We watched it form a small pool on the portside of the compartment. The ship was beginning to list some. Water, coming through the opening in the watertight door, followed down the after bulkhead making a pool along the portside of the compartment. 'fWhat do we do, Chief? That water and oil will get to us before too longf' Without hesitation, the Chief went to the forward watertight door and tested the space for contaminants. Using a special needle-like tool, he pressed it into a half inch rubber sealed opening in the bulkhead. The spot was about six inches above the deck near the watertight door as I remember it. By doing this, he could determine the safety of the space in the com- partment ahead. He loosened the levers, swung the steel door open, and yelled back, HCome on. It's clean Everybody forwardf' I removed the headphone plug from its socket in the compartment we were about to abandon. Then I followed Manley and the oth- ers into the compartment immediately forward of the hatch and ladder. The first detail I no- ticed was no ladder to topside in this new com- partment. There was only an ammunition con- veyor belt, and a wind shaft that reached all the way up to the boat deck. I bent over the conveyor and looked up into the shaft. I saw daylight at the top. A flush of fresh air caught me full in the face. It felt good. Wind shafts aboard ship reach from the lower regions to the topside. Large bell-shaped openings, rigged at the top of the shalt. turn into the wind to catch the fresh air for the lower decks. These wind shafts supplied the lower deck with cool air. Understand, the Navy in- stalled air conditioning many years later. The wind shaft looked large enough to accommo- date a small person. We knew immediately there would be fresh air, and plenty of it. We prayed the ship would not tip over and fill the shaft with wa- ter. Lights were on. We wanted them to stay that way. The compartment, nearly 30 feet long and ten feet wide, was dry with exception to some water coming through the forward wa- tertight door. We were comfortable. wet from flounder- ing around in the first compartment. but com- fortable. There was light and fresh air. The watertight doors, however. sealed us in. Once more, we dogged the doors on each end ofthe new compartment, fore and aft. tight and se- cure. Nearly five minutes passed since the first explosion aft. I plugged the microphone into the socket and reported our new position to Central: 'fRepair four port at new position in compartment forward the hatch. All present and accounted for. All secure: but the after com- partment is slowly filling with water and oil. Repair four port and all stations. the ship is damaged. We caught a torpedo hit aft. launched by low tiying aircraft. We're at war and sinking. Some are going over the side. Planes are strafing from the portside. The Casson and the Downs just blew up, The Ilia'

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.. .. frsi Q 'Q .I g 'f, iii 'W Eggs.: V st, H ' 5 'w 'Q it ,af CSS California Band 316. IL to Rl: Bandlnaster L.B. Luckenback, R.K. Shelly, L.M. Conley, R.V Parker: I-1.15 Garbo. WG. Harding, PP Panyon, R.S. Sumpman, F Wanat, R.N. Caroll, M. Palchefsky, R.E. Theis, PTE. Leonard. J. Rutledge, D.E. Kennedy andA. De Stwolinska Knot pictured R.A. Marnettel lCourtesy of WG. Hardingl I saw no reason to break that calm...to create panic. I stared down at the slowly rising mix- ture of oil and water, already ankle deep. Fool- ishly I thought about my new tailor-made whites, which I donned only minutes before to join friends for brunch at their home in the Kaimuki district of Honolulu. I raised a foot and frowned at the oil soaked bell bottoms It all happened so very fast. lt was a cloud- less moming on that fatal day, the smells of island flowers, jasmine, gardenias, frangipani mingling with the salt air of fresh morning breezes. I stepped out on the deck and watched the Prep flag skitter rapidly to a tight position on a high yard arm. A throaty growl caught my at- tention. and I stared across the Harbor at a cir- cling PBY as it drifted in slowly to land on the glassy waters. Even from that distance I could hear the sizzle and rush of water as it swept over the nose of the plane. One of my fellow band members, Mike Palchefsky, stepped up beside me and I asked him about Frank Wanat, who was tojoin me for brunch with the Hiram Miles family in Honolulu. mls Frank ready, yet'?,' I said. At 0755 The Prep Flag, with its blue field and white center square, scooted rapidly to a tight position on the highest yard arm of the USS California. It was five minutes before colors at Pearl Harbor in the Hawaiian Islands. The date was December 7, 1941. The bugler on the flagship of the Pacific Fleet, Admiral Pye commanding, blew first call. The duty band stood at ease in preparation for playing colors: the Star Spangled Banner. I was not in the duty band that day. Frank Wanat and I planned a liberty in the Kairnuki district at the home of Hiram and Mrs. Miles. They were the brother and sister-in-law ofthe Starks family from my home town in Decatur County, Indiana. Bob Kramer, a lst class gunner's mate on the Arizona, another friend of mine from my own home town, intended to meet us at Fleet Landing. We could ride a bus into Honolulu from there, and catch a cab to the Miles home on 16th Street. The Miles family planned no big luau, but they did want to celebrate a special welcome for Harding and Kramer. Since Wanat and I were buddies, I invited him to join us. We ar- ranged all the details for the meeting by sema- phore relay between a USS Calyfornia signal- men, a USS West Wrginia signalman, and fi- nally to a signalman from the USS Arizona. Kramer lived on the Arizona near the 5 inch 38 caliber anti-aircraft gun for which he was responsible. We arranged everything by sema- phore. The day broke into a cloudless moming and promised to be a great day for visiting new friends in Hawaii. Frank was still in the shower when I finished dressing in my new suit of tai- lor-made whites. Folding my navy blue neck- erchief in typical regulation turns, l tied it in a two inch knot that hung loose in a casual may- or-may-not-stay-tied fashion popular with most of the members of the band. Frank wasted a lot of time that morning. He was dressing with one hand and drinking a cup of coffee with the other. It looked like we were going to be late for the 0730 liberty launch which followed a schedule, leaving every hour, and on the half hour. The Liberty Launch was scheduled for Fleet Landing at Pearl Harbor Navy Yard. I yelled at him to Come on. Get going g but he didn't care whether he was late, since he was going to meet strangers anyway The prospects of spending a whole day with some one I don't know is not exciting enough for me to hurry anything. Certainly one launch doesn't matter. He waved at me as I walked away, and said, Go ahead on. I'll be out in a minute. If we miss the 0730, we'll catch the 0800. That will get us to Fleet Landing in time to meet your friend from the Arizona. That was the last I heard Frank say until two days later. We ran into each other on Ford Island after the battle frenzy quieted down. I walked out to where the officer of the day was standing near the gangway. It was a cool tropical moming, and the smell of flow- ers in the air interrupted the smell of fresh salt water. A Harbor breeze carried the fragrance and shifted it from lee to windward, as though gently blown by some large hand-held fan. Now and again you could get a whiff of hot bread baking in the officer's galley below. That's where we nipped the hams a few weeks before. What a time to be alive, young and aboard ship waiting for the next experience to hap- pen. The 0730 Liberty launch pulled away from the gangway platform about two and a half decks below. I could see the circle of waves stirred by the tiller when I looked over the side. Watched the launch tum into the direction of Pearl Harbor Fleet Landing, then mumbled to myself, We missed it. Looking back in the direction of the pas- sageway to see why Frank was late, I noticed Mike, Bob Carroll, Garbo and Shelley as they stepped out on the Quarter-deck with their in- struments in readiness. I never saw Shelley again. He died in battle. Time for colors ceremony was 0800. I nodded to all of them, and asked, Did any of you see Frank on your way out Mike put his horn to his lips, blew a col- umn of whooshing air into it, pressed the spit valve, and shook the collected water toward the scuppers near the rail. Yeah, Frank said for me to tell you to re- lax, we can catch the 0800 launch. I'm going ashore, too, and I think I'll go into town with you guys. 'fWan'a go with us to the party? There's plenty of party for more. No. I'm meeting a friend from Honolulu, and we're going to spend some time with the Honolulu Symphony. Maybe I'll see you later at the Black Cat. Okay, but you're welcome. The Miles folks are just home folks, and they would like to meet you. I appreciate that but lim on duty for col- ors tonight. I'll need to get back before you and Frank. Maybe some other timef, The duty band began to assemble on the fantail of the CalU'0rnia. I leaned against the railing near the Quarter-deck and watched the slow flying PBY returning from a dawn pa- trol. It sat down on the water about 200 yards abeam. PBYs are graceful seaplanes whose low flying speeds were something close to 85 miles per hour. The Navy used them for observation and patrol. 979

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ibn, up . H125 wi 2 ...Q-t In . ? . ffm., .? 'i.Q .j. 'la. Wir-. P af, B ,ia if 'hai Q 'ii K . 3' -. rl , if .Fi If wi, F59 f a- Mhz' 1 .- 1 A xi-F fu wwf '5 .mv gf , . .wr I v 11 .5 . ,,,- ir., .f .v Y I , dll- ' fr- f rt me ar 1 aff. .dh rf! if 'ia aff -ie 'i fig 'fl We tWk'st Wqqiniai is on fire. and the Nevada is getting under way. They're in the channel and headed for open sea. Oh my God, the Arizona just blew sky high. lt broke in the middle like a monster fire- cracker. Smoke and fire is a mile in the air. No ammunition when we finally got per- mission to open the locked ready boxes. We're forming an ammunition working party all the way down the amidship's hatch right into the magazine. Got'ta get some anti-aircraft shells to fight these yellow bastardsf, Have nothing to fight with. Some of the guys are so pissed off, they broke into the spud locker. Now they're throwing potatoes at planes flying near enough to crash into usf, This is horrible. Lordy mercy, one of our men just dived out of the sky lookout Ccrows nestj 50 feet above us. He did a perfect Olympic swan dive. WOW! He made it. There he is. He surfaced. A small barge is picking him up. What a dive ! They strafed our own Liberty launch in the open channel. The Coxln tried to change direction from Fleet Landing, to make a hur- ried return to the ship. He didn't make it. It looks like all hands died in the launch. Some are hanging over the side with their head and shoulders draggin' in the waterf, All you guys sealed in, stand by. We can- not break watertight integrity. The ship is hang- ing by the hawsers. Damage control is going to see if they can do some counter flooding to keep the ship from capsizing. Out. 'fWait a minute, I thought. This is no time to shut out. What else is happening? That was the launch Frank and I missed. f'Four port, aye, aye,', was my quiet re- sponse? I read the transmission loud and clear. We were in real trouble. 'fChief, that explosion aft was a torpedo launched from an airplane. Can you be... Explosions, and then more explosions a double blast picked the ship up again, and finally let it settle once more into the mud of Pearl Harbor. This time it was in front, up for- ward, and much closer to us. We knew it was a mortal blow. The ship began to list some more. We could hear the almost human like groans of the straining steel decks again, and could actually feel it sinking. Coming to rest at about a 15 degree position, the Battleship Caljornia sank to the Quarter-deck with me and 13 oth- ers in a sealed compartment. Buried alive. No way to get out. 6'Are we gonna' die here, Chief? said one of the electricians. Hard to tell, Mac. We may be in here for awhile? Ship shaking explosions ripped into the portside of the Calfornia, forward of midships. It tore a 30 foot hole in the 14 inch belt of steel armor that should have offered some degree of protection. It also severed the minimum ar- mor beneath the 14 inches of steel designed to ward off torpedo assaults. There was a moment when it seemed like some almost monstrous unseen hand lifted the ship up in the water. Shaking, straining, and tearing it, with a terrible shock of two more explosions. The mighty ship settled again. At first we thought it was the main battery firing a broadside with all the guns rigged outboard. That doesn't make any sense to me, said the shipfitter, a little short guy about five feet tall, and thin as a rail. Why would we fire big 14 inch 50 caliber main battery? These are guns that can throw 1,000 LB projectiles 35,000 yards. Why fire big guns when only low fly- ing planes are firing at us? Are we firing at an offshore fleet? said Manley from his prone position on the deck. Manley wasn't feeling too good, and it didn't take him long to spread out. There must be a fleet. Otherwise, where did the Japanese planes come from? The short shipfitter quickly responded. There is no way we could be firing the big guns, he said. 4'The shells would have passed by us on this conveyor belt. Nothing has happened in here since we arrived. We dogged everything down. We're hit, and hit hard, the Chief said again. Once aft and twice forward. lt's got to be Japanese torpedoes. I just know it in my bones. Fast upon the realization that explosions hit us some distance forward, we settled back for a breather. We decided the gunners were not firing the main batteries after all. What felt like a third and final torpedo hit the ship deep in the forward section. It simply glided through the 30 foot hole made in the side by the first, and delivered tons of explosive gunpowder into our sensitive inner belly. This is a deduction I made a year later when I saw the yawning black hole on the forward portside of the Calyfornia. The ship, after being floated in its twisted agony, rested in place at Pearl Harbor's 10110 dry dock where we could see the damage that gouged her open on the 7th, From the safety of the dock, we could see what happened to us on that awful day. Within seconds after the torpedo rocked us in the forward part of the ship, the second explosion forward blew up in the inner parts. Another muffied blast blew and braced us from above. Lighter, perhaps, but scary. lt feels like they are pounding us into the mud of the Harbor with a bunch of massive iron coated fists, said a red headed machinist's mate. He towered above us all when he stood straight. 'The last three happened in the space of about eight or ten minutes? The Chief was quick to note. After the second torpedo hit us forward amidships, the voice of the commentator topside at Central came back on the intercom. His voice in the headphones yelled, All hands abandon ship! Abandon ship! Abandon ship, hell,', I thought. What about us here in this compartment four decks below the main deck? A flash of alternatives went through my mind, none of which included staying in that compartment much longer, but there was no way out. Explosions forward of us, and a mixture of oil and water filling up in the compartment aft of us, there was no place to go. Repair four port...remain. Repeat, re- main. Do not...repeat do not break watertight integrity. We'll be back when we can reboard the ship. The words, Abandon Ship, chilled my bones. What was all this about when we can reboard the ship ? My flesh started to crawl around my chest, up my back into the bottom of my neck. Then it crawled all the way back again into the middle of my rectum where it quivered and finally came to a halt. This feel- ing happened two seconds after the abandon ship order. There we were, sealed in a watertight com- partment. The doors tightened both fore and aft. The after compartment from whence we came, tested oil and water. The forward door was sprung a little and leaking a small stream of water. Central Station ordered us to maintain watertight integrity. A contrary state of affairs, buried alive with nothing but fresh air, and the lights still shining. No one in the Repair party knew about the abandon ship order except me, and I didn't feel like saying anything about it with abandon ship orders still ringing in my ears. Central ordered us to maintain our posi- tion. No one showed any signs of anxiety. I was uneasy with my secret, but perfectly willing to wait and see. How could I tell thirteen other guys that we could not leave our battle stations and save ourselves? A quick decision later, I pressed the button for Central, hoping some- one was still on the line. Central, Central, this is Repair four port. Please confirm the last communication. Please confirm...? Repair four port. That is a confirm. We are abandon ship. Remain your battle stations. We will come back for you when we can board ship again. I am leaving now. Then a click, and an unbelievable shock of silence followed. Everyone in the working party held their eyes on me. I could partially imagine what was going through their minds. Hell, I knew what was going through mine. They are changin' position, I reported. Since we changed our position early in the encounter, nothing was strange about Central changing theirs. The crew relaxed a bit and resettled into their otherwise comfortable but somewhat tense positions. No one said anything for awhile. I thought the best we could do is get out of there. It was like an awful dream. I didn't think anything that bad could ever happen to me. There was silence for a few minutes as the ship began to settle into a stable 15 degree port list. The tension ended in an instant. In a frac- tion of a second, disaster struck again, Baaam...a heavy bomb exploded in the midship's hatch above us. This was a muffled explosion from above that slammed us into the mud. Dave Kennedy said to me the next day, Warren, a special working party was passing ammunition, hand to hand, up the midship's hatch from the powder magazine several decks below. The bomb came down the hatch. It ex- ploded, setting off the 5 inch 38 anti-aircraft shells killing the men who were lifting and passing the shells upward to the main deck and