Bunker Hill (CV 17) - Naval Cruise Book

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refuge wherein one might sit comfortably assimilating malteds, cokes, coffee and ham- burgers, while discussing the relative merits of the young ladies behind the counters. Gnce inside the sacred portals you were safe, and even though VVheeler might drop in himself for a morning shot of joe, it was an un- written agreement that there would be no unpleasant scenes. One could thus relax until a similar, though shorter, alert that occurred in the afternoon. By that time, Wheeler had shot his bolt, so to speak, and found it difficult to remain awake himself. Thus it came to pass that much valuable sack- time was logged during the long afternoons, marred only by an occasional training film in which a cultured British voice explained the various types of Italian surface craft, and just what should be done about them all. During the day the time was well marked by the crowing of the announcing system, at an appointed time each afternoon emitted something that went like this: Now the faw to eight ahmed gahd lay down to the ahmed gahd room. About ten minutes later, this announcement was supplemented by a slightly grimmer version, in which the announcer said direly: Now the faw to eight ahmed gahd lay down to the ahmed gahd room or GO ON REPAVVTP' This seemed to constitute an end to the whole affair, as no more was heard regarding the ahmed gahd. At this point in the day's activities there were three definite classes of men in the build- ing. The distinctions were unique in the history of classes, for they were not based on money, antecedents, color, education, former occupation or previous condition of penal servitude. They were governed by the pos- session, or lack of, a small oval disc with a number stamped thereon. The numbers were odd and even and on alternate evenings were good for one hell of a time, in and around the environs of the Athens of America, Home of the Bean and the Cod. They constituted the Liberty Cards. The first, and far and away the most for- tunate class, was the one that actually rated liberty. The second was comprised of enter. prising young men who didn't rate liberty, but had grimly resolved that they were not going to spend that night in the Fargo Building, Many pounds were sweated away of an afternoon, weighing the chances of success of one or another particular scheme, Wonder. ing if the matter would come off without any hitch. The development of a hitch would have the dampening effect of landing them in the brig for various lengths of time. After an absence, the unfortunate ones would reappear upon the scene, healthier, less pale than the rest of us, no signs of dissipation, with a shorn pate-evidence of having spent some time in durance vile. The last class composed the group who did not rate liberty, and had no intentions of doing anything other than washing a white hat by way of an evening's entertainment. Before supper, the most favored class would fill the washrooms with merry singing and low insults. Row upon row of eager lads cheerily gashing their faces in an effort to outdo the next man in the ruddy smoothness of jowl found so attractive by New England's young ladies. This orgy of cleanliness would end only after every hair was in place, teeth brushed within an ace of removing the enamel, shoes shined to mirror-like perfection, and an honest effort made to brush the extraneous matter from the blues. Then the neckerchief, tied with care never lavished on a civilian tie, and tucked beneath the jumper to avoid collecting various bits and drippings of the meal, and so-down to chow. Some, im- patient of solid nourishment, would waitin the liberty chit line comparable, in their patience, to school kids awaiting the bell that sets them free on a Friday afternoon in Spring. Scarcely the first notes of the bugle sounded than the hounds snatched the chits and fled down the passageways toward the elevators- Some spurned mechanical aid and raced madly down the five Hights, out past the hard- pressed Chief trying to make a show of inspCC- tion of all hands, and onto Summer Street where they waited, buzzing happily like 2

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From The Fargo to Rabaul By Rod DeCamp QFormer Qua t . .-ff.Ns..oe.4tes.fif-..,..fr,.ftk,,g..s,f,..f,im -Wherein Are Found Some of the Little Things That Make Up Carrier Duty ,hat's-where it all began- the Fargo. Although officially known as The Receiving Station, Boston, the former wool warehouse down on Beantown's Summer Street will, in Navy talk, always be known as the F argo. Renowned for its chow, elevators, canteen feminine employees, Sunday dances and brig, its chief claim to fame was its locale, pro- nounced Bahston. 3 It was in the pleasant atmosphere of that peer of receiving stations that the embryonic crew of the Bunker Hill gathered and forth- with proceeded to spawn rumors anent the activities of the ship, even though, at that time, the ship hadn't even an island structure to call its own! These rumors largely con- cerned the lapse of time before the ship would be commissioned, and beyond that, it was any man's ball game. Even at that early date, the inaccuracy of the scuttlebutt was some- thing out of this world! A solemn rule of the house, enforced by Boats' Wheeler in his more lucid moments, required that all hands be made to arise and partake of breakfast. This arousal required 3 goodly racket, generally produced by the vigorous pounding of a wooden slat against the steel bunkfjframes, accompanied by such merry rhymes as Let's go, let's go-let'S 121811 and stow, let's- etc., etc. Much praise is due the cooks for their thoughtfulness, however, in providing such matutinalihre-quenchers as tomato juice and other liquids calculated to calm a digeSt1VC SYStem quiteifoften in outrageous clam01'- With a substantial breakfast tucked away, the hardier spirits moved about purpOSCfUllY, 1' ermaster, transferred to V-7 Programj .ia ...!.wQ,.41xi4f' ' A X cleaning up, shaving, washing and attending to other duties of the morning. It must be regretted that all the spirits were not hardy, nor were they convinced yet that they had definitely arisen, for large numbers crept cravenly back to their sacks, and it was noted with some misgivings that the future crew of the Bunker Hill had an amazing faculty for going to sleep after a meal-even on top of all that good New England food, too! This affinity for the horizontal position was discouraged by the occasion of Quarters for Muster each morning, and certainly wasn't helped by standing at attention through the playing of The Star Spangled Banner, executed with agonizing slowness and fidelity to detail, to say nothing of the British and, as I recall, the French national anthems, also played in honor of Naval personnel of those countries, also present at the Fargo. The lads spent the remainder of the day attempting to evade, with varying degrees of success, various exercises and lectures, some necessitating a march to the Boys Club, which meant going out of the nice warm Fargo Building into the cold street. Then too, there was the ever-present danger of being instructed in the sooty art of fire-fighting, an exercise guaranteed to ruin clothes and dis- position in gaining first hand knowledge of the heat of oil fires and what to do about getting them out in a hurry. One of these Hre- Hghting classes shot a day all to hell. The dangerous period lay between the dis- missal from Quarters, and the opening of the canteen on the ninth deck. During this time one had to stay beyond the reach of Wheeler, and other of his ilk, who seemed stubbornly determined that the crew should do something other than sleep before liberty commenced. Once open, the canteen offered a splendid

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swtfm of bees, to infest the first, second, and at least third and fourth trolley cars to roll glong. By three or four in the morning, 9, gogd deal of the energy had been dissipated and the yoggg bloods began straggling in, some afoot, some afoul, some by streetcar, some with Shore Patrols, and those fortunate or fore- sighted enough to have any money left, by cab, This happy routine continued for many weeks, but at last the fact that the Bunker Hill was soon to be commissioned made our going aboard a mere matter of days. One Spring afternoon we evacuated the big, squarish building and marched down the street into the Navy Yard to board our ship. To former carrier men, the aspect of the Bunker Hill was nothing particularly astonishing. But to the large number of the crew that had just lately come from behind steering wheels, desks, ploughs and typewriters, the out- landish looking vessel was something to conjur with. In the first place, a person standing on the hangar deck felt absurdly small and just didn't believe it! You felt it was the misplaced main floor of a manufactur- ing plant. It was simply too large, too open and too long, to be a ship and one looked forward to heavy seas with something akin to lack of confidence. Why the damn thing overhead-What is it, the flight deck?-will in all probability rattle loose! Oh, well-l Our slightly bewildered new crewman had little time to philosophize on the aberrations Of modern naval warfare, as he was hustled, willy-nilly, bag and baggage, below decks, tripping over welding cable, from time to time, dodging showers of sparks, winding a way from compartment to compartment, through devious passageways-thoroughly convinced that, left to his own devices he would like as I10t perish down there, before Hnding his way out. The locations of the sacks, lockers, heads and chow lines were ascertained in that order. . Despite the size of the task and considering the infinite possibility of any milifa-FY 01 Sanization for organizing a chaos, the embarkation of the crew was carried out with a minimum of fuss and dislocation. Meal.time meant waiting in the inevitable chow line and, of course, the inevitable udfaggingn for, as one philosopher rational- fzedi if you can't impose on your friends, who ln hell can you impose upon? With this bit Of immaculate logic, many persons daily avoided the dismal ordeal of waiting in line that seemed to grow ever longer. Perhaps 5 .ni iv X l-eff s lo f Le the most efficient group in this activity was the Marine Corps. Well disciplined, compact, working as a well-trained unit, the Seventh Division developed an infiltration technique that was the envy of all who had the dubious privilege of watching its execution and, as it turned out, many were to be so privileged. One Key Man would somehow bore into the line, in extreme cases, the Key Man waS observed to wait in line as much as five or six minutes before mess was sounded! Placing himself in a conspicuous spot, he waited- and like moths to a flame, his comrades in arms would spot the tell-tale green uniform and casually drift over to him. Whaddaya say? lVImmmm? Whooze got the chits? Izzat so? 'e did? Hell with mmmmf' Yuh. With such gem-like conversations, the new-