Franklin (CV 13) - Naval Cruise Book

Page 67 text:

Dan Winters, a inodfst man, gratefully declined this recognition of liis unique achievement. Throughout the night after the attack persistent Japs hung about Task Grou|) MiA as it swung southward to the coast of Luzon. Radio Tokyo blared even wilder claims, and tlu Imperial Navy — which seemed to believe the fantastic stories — dispatched a strong task force out of the North C ' hina Sea to finish the dozens of crip|)led American warshi|)s littering liie water. Actually the Houston and Canberra were the only casualties and Admiral Halsey. fiercest Ja|)-hater. lurked just over the edge of the sea with two powerful Third Fleet task groups, eager for battle. At the last moment, while the northern carriers readied their deadly bombers for the long sought mission of smash- ing a dozen major Japanese warships, the yellow Admiral became doubtful and w ilhdrew his force at high speed into safer waters, well out of reach of the cri|)|)led American fleet. The fast carrier task forces of the Third Fleet now turned tiieir attention to the Fhilij)pines; back to skies over Cor- regidor and liataan, came the avengers. Weary, bearded, un- dernourished Americans in Japanese labor battalions, some long believed dead, raised their eyes to the heavens and hope kindled in shrunken chests. They have returned, sang in every man ' s heart. Prominent among the avenging planes in those skies was the White Triangle, marking Big Ben ' s air group. 150 miles from Manila, on October 14th, Franklin and her sister carriers lay, throwing massive blows at air- fields with hauntingly familiar names . . . Clark Field. Nich- ols Field, Nielson . . . Helldiver, Avenger, Hellcat, kinsmen of the Kitty Hawks and first Flying Fortresses smashed by brutal treachery on those fields three years before, were re- • ! . . A. C. Cason, landing signal officer, in action, ivhile assistant landing signal officer, Lt. Daniel M. U inters, stands by

Page 66 text:

ahead of the Enterprise and the Bi ' lleau Wood, but the fourth bomber bored in through the flak on Big Ben ' s port quarter. He dropped his torpedo, hedge-hopped Franklin s bow, and went down in flames between the Franklin and the Enterprise. The torpedo was coming at the Franklin, hot, straight, and true. Again teamwork saved Big Ben from dis- aster. With seamanship bred by years of training, Captain Shoemaker ordered ' Right, full rudder and personally rang up Back full on the starboard engines. Far below, in the domain of the Black Gang, the men who answer all bells lived uj) to their names. Big Ben slowed her forward motion and pulled away to the right, away from the on-rushing tor- pedo which passed within a few feet of the bow and con- tinued on harmlessly through the task group. In the mad five minutes of action Harold L. Standi, vet- eran aviation machinist ' s mate, was stru ck by the plunging Betty and instantly killed. Men on the bridge and gun sta- tions had been struck by some of the hail of flak from guns of the task force, others had been wounded by Japanese ma- chine gun fire. Ten men were hurt badly enough to be taken out of action. Yet in the midst of danger and tragedy. Big Ben ' s men re- membered it was one year ago to the day, that she was launched. No man had forgotten Captain Shoemaker ' s words Thirteen is my lucky number, though it had not been luck. An alert captain, an efficient bridge crew, hard- shooting gunners, a faithful Black Gang, had brought Big Ben through her first hand-to-hand encounter with the enemy. There was occasion, too. for a smile. During the first mo- ments of the Jap attack, Lt. Dan Winters, landing signal officer, coaching Lt. Pope in to land, glanced up just in time to see the Jap plane coming in for an entirely different kind of landing. Lt. Winters did what men faced by flaming dragons have done before. He ran. Across the deck he raced, the Japanese bomber in hot pursuit. As he dove for an imaginary foxhole in the flight deck, the low-dipping wing of tlie Rising Sun plane engaged him in a kiss of death, rip- ping the entire seat from his pants. The exposed anatomy was too much for the Nip. Big Ben ' s hero muttered a strangled Splash one as the Betty crashed into the sea. It is said that a collection was made to have the appropriate Japanese flag tattooed on the conquering posterior, but Lt. fiTTJl.,. ' ■.: ' J Jupani ' st ' shipping hmldled in Manila Harbor

Page 68 text:

Guns blasting. Big Ben fights back . . . October 15lh . . . turning to exact a debt of blood from Japan ' s degenerate soldiery. As the airfields and stations came under the deadly bar- rage, bomber pilots looked gleefully at crowded Manila har- bor, one of the world ' s largest — jammed with huddled Jap- anese shipping. Those ships were doomed. As soon as the airfields and air cover had been shattered the bombers would rain havoc on the crowded harbor with its great piers and warehouses, filled with the loot of an empire. October 15th found Big Ben still hurling knockout punches at the airfield targets. The crew had been at battle stations for hours and enemy planes had been on the screens since dawn. Two had already been shot down by the patrol — and from one of the early strikes Lt. (jg) Frederick A. Beckman. Jr.. who was Becky to all hands, did not return with his Hellcat and was marked missing in action. About ten in the morning, with thirty bombers over Nich- ols Field and thirty more poised to take off, a group of en- emy planes was discovered closing from the westward, half a dozen patrol fighters on their tail. Three Japs broke through. Two Oscar fighters and one Judy bomber, each w ith two bombs, flashed into view. They were deadly midges, twenty thousand feet in the air. as they nosed over in their dive. The screen and Big Ben opened fire simultaneously with every gun. One of the Japs dropped his bombs harmlessly and fled, but the others bored down at the Franklin. The first one was a wide miss. Captain Shoemaker swung the