My father was a man of a passing generation. He believed in Right and Wrong, not present day politically correct reasoning behind these absolutes.

My father never spoke much of his involvement in the war, he preferred to "leave it be". Entering as so many did shortly after December 7th 1941. As part of the crew of the Ranger CV-4 in 1942 and went out to the med for duty which included the landing on German held French Morocco. In December they returned to Norfolk.

My father was a plank owner of Yorktown CV-10. He was there when Eleanor Roosevelt christened it. For the next 3 years this was his home.

Much of it he refused to discuss, most notably March 18th 1945. Apparently he knew some that died that day. The "Lady" was his ship. I still remember when the Yorktown was brought up, people would ask about Midway. My dad always told them, "No, the second Yorktown, the Lady"
 

I know these things and the details because I researched them, not because my father told me. The awesome battle history of this fine ship is something that they can't make a movie

My father died on Jan 2 2002. My father was Joseph W. Yates, Petty Officer. He was proud, but didn't show it. How do I know this? For years he told me he kept nothing from the war. Upon death, being is only son, I received a package of the Fighting Lady's book, actual on ship photo's, his medals, and his cherished Golden Shellback certificate with a small note.

He didn't think anybody would care about what he did. He didn't think he should make a big deal out of it, because he was only doing what was Right.

 He also gave a gift. He told me that if I ever wanted to bet for a drink on naval history with a sailor, all I had to do was challenge "name the original name of the Yorktown". {Bon Homme Richard}  I have not lost yet, and one of these was from a Reserve Admiral who prided himself on naval history. Now this is debatable since it was not yet commissioned, only had the keel laid. But I tell you it is worth a beer.

Here's to all the personnel of CV-10. Those that actively belong to associations and attend reunions. And, here's to those who are quietly proud.

They were from a generation that did their duty and chose to "leave it be".

My sincerely thanks,
Randy Yates

Story #1:

There is a memorial in Chicago at O'Hare Airport.  Very moving.  The memorialized guy saved a small carrier fleet from certain disaster.

The man was Lieutenant Commander Butch O'Hare.  He was a fighter pilot assigned to an aircraft carrier Lexington in the South Pacific.

One day his entire squadron was sent on a mission.  After he was airborne, he looked at his fuel gauge and realized that someone had forgotten to top off his fuel tank.  He would not have enough gas to complete his mission and get back to his ship.  His flight leader told him to return to the carrier.  Reluctantly he dropped out of formation and headed back to the fleet.

As he was returning to the mothership, he saw something that turned his blood cold.
A squadron of Japanese bombers was speeding their way toward the American fleet.  The American fighters were gone on a sortie and the isolated fleet was all but defenseless.  His radio was malfunctioning and he couldn't warn the fleet of the approaching danger.  There was only one thing to do.  He must somehow divert them from the fleet.

Laying aside all thoughts of personal safety, he dove into the formation of Japanese planes.  Wing-mounted 50 caliber's blazed as he charged in, attacking one surprised enemy plane and then another.  Butch weaved in and out of the now broken formation and fired at as many planes as possible until finally all his ammunition was spent.

Undaunted, he continued the assault.  He dove at the planes, trying to at least clip off a wing or tail, in hopes of damaging as many enemy planes as possible and rendering them unfit to fly.  He was desperate to do anything he could to keep them from reaching the American ships.

Finally, the exasperated Japanese squadron took off in another direction.

Deeply relieved, Butch O'Hare and his tattered fighter limped back to the carrier.  Upon arrival he reported in and related the event surrounding his return.  The film from the camera mounted on his plane told the tale.  It showed the extent of Butch's daring attempt to protect his fleet.  He had destroyed five enemy bombers.  That was on February 20, 1942, and for that action he became the Navy's first Ace of WWII and the first Naval Aviator to win the Medal of Honor.

A year later Butch O'Hare was killed in aerial combat at the age of 29.  His hometown would not allow the memory of that heroic action die.  And today, O'Hare Airport in Chicago is named in tribute to the courage of this great man.

So the next time you're in O'Hare, visit his memorial with his statue and Medal of Honor.  It is located between Terminal 1 and Terminal 2.

Story 2:  

Some years earlier there was a man, also in Chicago, called Easy Eddie.

At that time, Al Capone virtually owned the city.  Capone wasn't famous for anything heroic.

His exploits were anything but praiseworthy.  He was, however, notorious for enmeshing the city of Chicago in everything from bootlegged booze and prostitution to murder.

Easy Eddie was Capone's lawyer and for a good reason.  He was very good!
In fact, his skill at legal maneuvering kept Big Al out of jail for a long time.

To show his appreciation, Capone paid him very well.  Not only was the money big; Eddie got special dividends.  For instance, he and his family occupied a fenced-in mansion with live-in help and all of the conveniences of the day.

The estate was so large that it filled an entire Chicago City block.  Yes, Eddie lived the high life of the Chicago mob and gave little consideration to the atrocities that went on around him.

Eddy did have one soft spot, however.  He had a son that he loved dearly.

Eddy saw to it that his young son had the best of everything: clothes, cars, and a good education. Nothing was withheld.  Price was no object.  And, despite his involvement with organized crime, Eddie even tried to teach him right from wrong.  Yes, Eddie tried to teach his son to rise above his own sordid life.

He wanted him to be a better man than he was.  Yet, with all his wealth and influence, there were two things that Eddie couldn't give his son.  Two things that Eddie sacrificed to the Capone mob that he could not pass on to his beloved son: a good name and a good example.

One day, Easy Eddie reached a difficult decision.  Offering his son a good name was far more important than all the riches he could lavish on him.  He had to rectify all the wrong that he had done.  He would go to the authorities and tell the truth about Scar-face Al Capone.

He would try to clean up his tarnished name and offer his son some semblance of integrity.  To do this he must testify against The Mob, and he knew that the cost would be great.  But more than anything, he wanted to be an example to his son.  He wanted to do his best to make restoration and hopefully have a good name to leave his son.  So, he testified.  Within the year, Easy Eddie's life ended in a blaze of gunfire on a lonely Chicago Street.

He had given his son the greatest gift he had to offer at the greatest price he would ever pay.

I know what you're thinking.  What do these two stories have to do with one another?

Well, you see, Butch O'Hare was Easy Eddie's son.

^{submit your Yorktown Sea Story  click here}

Remember and Honor your service to your Yorktown and to your country;
Join the USS US Navy click here