PCE (893) - Naval Cruise Book

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THE SHORT TALE OF HOGAN'S GOAT Of course there were big plans for us even long before Miss Dorothy Moore sent the hull of our mighty little man-o'-war down the ways at WISCO QWillamette Iron 8: Steel Corporationj in Portland, Oregon. We knew nothing about those plans until a year later, a few key ratings were gathered together under Miami's sun to train as a nucleus crew. . Then from all parts of the country came officers and men with orders and assignments to this strange, unheard of U. S. S. PCE 893. We all met amid the oil wells of Terminal Island, San Pedro, California, where we slept through one class after another and where some of us got our first taste of salt spray on our training ship, the U. S. S. PCE 872. Finally we all journeyed to Portland, where we put our supplies on board and prepared our logs and publications. When we worked, we worked hard, but after working hours we found Portland a different place. All the plank owners and many who have come aboard since know Portland as a great liberty town. The big day came on the 25th of July, 1944, when our first skipper, Lt. Byron A. Johnson, Jr., assumed command. We were all lined 'up on the boat deck-fsmart and snappy. As Shoemaker, QM Zfc fist class nowj hoisted that commissioning pennant to the gaff, we all started collecting our sea pay. Then came the cruise down the Willamette and Columbia Rivers to Astoria and finally out to sea. Back we sailed to Terminal Island. We had hardly dropped the hoop in the harbor when the shakedown ofiicials came swarming aboard picking us to pieces, finding fault, and giving us advice. We went through three weeks of that-towing, fueling-at-sea, firing guns, steaming in formation, sleeping off that 2:00 a. m. P. E. ride from L. A. Even then we weren't finished. Farther south at San Diego we went through another week of anti-submarine shakedown, tracking down tame subs off Point Loma and tracking down wild creatures on the Plaza. I At last shakedown was over, now we could start operating. So we headed northward dreading the winter we were to spend in the Aleutians. We stopped overnight in Seattle to get our routing, but our Engineering Officer, Mr. Mitchell, had other plans, so we stayed for eight months. That's where we earned the unofiicial appellation Hogan's Goat. Don't think we didn't zry to get out, we did-about once every month, but each time back we'd limp to try again. We got as far as Ketchikan, Alaska, in March, but promptly returned. We have to admit, however, it was a beautiful trip up and down the coast of Canada. On V-E Day we found ourselves on the way again, enjoying the same pleasant journey. We were but a few hours out in the Gulf of Alaska when we were ordered back to Icy Straits for our first assignment. We waited at Juneau and Excursion Inlet for our one-ship convoy. It was a beautiful summer vacation for several days with hunting, fishing, boating, swimming, hiking, and softball-and the usual liberty pleasures in Juneau. ' Our first escort duty took us to Kodiak, Dutch Harbor, and Adak, where we changed skippers. Lt. John S. Bainbridge took command and brought us all the way to Attu, across the 180th meridian where we were all initiated into the Order of the Golden Dragon. We returned by way of Amchitka, saw Adak, Dutch and Attu again, escorting ships back and forth. We wouldn't care to recommend the Aleutians for a summer vacation, and we hear that winter there is worse by far, but we didn't suffer. It was a very sudden and pleasant surprise when we were ordered back to Seattle. We made the trip home with five other PCE's, more or less in formation all the way. At the navy yard in Bremerton we left our ship to the mercy of the chippers and went on leave. We returned after V-J Day to find her greatly transformed for her new peace-time assignment and a new skipper in command, Lt. Thomas N. Gilbert. Our new job required new training, so back we sailed to our old shakedown haunts for new shakedown training. Now we stand ready to set our course westward to explore the wide expanse of the Pacific. Our mission-to track down the mys- teries of the weather instead of enemy submarines and to shepherd our own aircraft to safety instead of sending Jap pilots to their ancestors.

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