Knives were quite useful aboard a ship for performing routine tasks; but they were mostly carried for protection against sharks, in case a man fell overboard. Sharks, trailed behind ships eating the garbage that was tossed overboard. One day while on lookout duty, Ted Rohrbough noticed a fifty caliber machine gun ammunition box made of wood floating about 6,000 yards from the stern of the ship. Every now and then the box would shoot ten to fifteen feet into the air and then land back into the water. Air Defense was notified. It was decided that a shark was playing with the wooden box. That was why most Yorktowners would carry knives...so a shark would not play with them if they fell overboard.
Yorktown crew gets more religious and then
less religious according to how dangerous things are...
During World War Two, the hanger deck served as a church on Sunday to accommodate the large number of Yorktown sailors who wanted to attend. Here, Chaplains Moody and Alexander held church services for members of the crew. It was noticed that fewer attended when things were calm than when the Yorktown was about to go into battle! The fear of possible death always brought a bigger Sunday crowd; this was just human nature. It happens on all ships of war.
THE YORKTOWN
CALLED TO DUTY QUICKLY
TO DEFEND TAIWAN FROM COMMUNIST ATTACK
The Yorktown was operating out of the Philippine Islands along with several other carriers. It was Sunday morning and a lot of the crews were spending the weekend ashore. About nine or ten o'clock "Set Special Sea Detail" for getting underway was announced. My duty station was on the fantail, we immediately manned our stations and the Yorktown was spun around and we headed out of Manila Bay, as we passed by Corrigador we were doing 30 knots.
We continued at that speed all night. The next morning it was overcast and cold versus hot and muggy as it had been in the Philippines. It was then announced that we along with the Seventh Fleet were patrolling the straits between Taiwan and the Matsu Island just off the coast of China but under Taiwanese jurisdiction.
The Chinese had begun shelling them and we were there to prevent and invasion. We spent about 20 days there along with most of the 7th Fleet then left for Japan. I got off the Yorktown there in Yokosuka and proceeded to the USA for Release.
Thurman D. Smith, Gunners Mate Seaman 7th Division 1954
Sailors I Knew On The Yorktown
Hatfield, WE Seaman 7th Division
Aboard a large ship such as the Yorktown you will find some very interesting characters. I thought it would be fun just to describe some of the characters I knew aboard the Yorktown in 1952,53 and 54.
First there was Hatfield W E; he was one of my two best friends aboard the Yorktown. Fred was about 5 feet 9 inches tall and somewhat stocky, he never said much and just seemed to be along for the ride as long as it was going his way and he was enjoying it. Oh, yes I need to add that Fred was the strongest man I have ever met regardless of size. He was working as a Presser in a laundry some where in Iowa when he joined up and I believe this was the first time he had been away from home, and all in all he was a nice guy.
As the Yorktown departed Alameda Naval Air in 1954 heading for the Philippines the Captain thought it would be nice to have some boxing matches aboard ship to relieve some of the monotony. So every evening rings were set up on the hanger deck, sailors were sparing and punching bags of all kinds and in general really getting in shape to fight. There was one particular Airedale who began making a nuisance of himself by challenging sailors in passageways and those watching sparing drills etc. He wanted everyone to know just how tough he was. This continued all the way to Hawaii and during overall readiness drills while there.
One night while on liberty Hatfield and I were setting at a nice quite bar in Honolulu with a few other sailors. There about six of us setting on stools at the bar itself. Several other sailors were setting at tables away from the bar in a dimly lit section. All at once this belligerent Airedale who was training to be a boxer elbowed his way between Hatfield and I and pronounced that he “could whip any son of a bitch in the 7th Division”. Without so much as turning on the stool or even looking at him Hatfield hit him with a very short right upper cut square on the chin. He went careening across the barroom into the tables from whence he came. No one said a word or made a move to retaliate so
We calmly finished our beer, got up and went back to the ship without any further action being taken. I always figured that the Airedales buddies probably thought Hatfield had done us all a big favor in shutting this loud mouth up. The Airedale lost his first fight, the one in the bar and his second the one in the ring.
This clearly illustrates why you should know you enemy before attacking him.
Wobble Sockets
Wobble Sockets “I never knew his name” aptly describes a very interesting character. He actually leaned forward, bent forward at the waist to walk and his knees bent both forward and inward and actually wobbled when he walked. He never bought cigarettes but carried around a pipe and a can of Prince Albert, which he smoked if he couldn't bum a cigarette. He would always ask for a cigarette before saying anything else to me when we met and we never met because I was looking for him. Hell I don’t even know where his workstation was or if he even had one, I never saw him do anything except bum cigarettes. He and others like him on the Yorktown was the reason why we all carried a brand of cigarettes that no one liked to smoke in our shirt pocket and our good ones inside our sock. When someone bummed a smoke they got what was in our shirt pocket or nothing.
Wobble sockets would not take one from the pack in our shirt pocket; he wanted a good cigarette.
He never shined his shoes; he put polish on them but never shined them. When I ask him why, he said the Blue Jackets Manual only required shoes to be “blackened” not shined. And you know when I looked it up he was right!
To illustrate the thinking on this requirement one hot Sunday morning while we were in San Diego we were to have Admirals Inspection of the troops. We all spit shined our shoes, pressed our uniforms, got haircuts, took showers and assembled on the flight deck at “Parade Rest”. We stood there for over and hour and watched the spit shine turn into a dull black finish, we never did have the honor that day of being inspected by the Admiral, why, I don’t know but it sure proved why Wobble Sockets never bothered to shine his shoes.
Cromer
Cromer was a Second Class Boatswains Mate when he came aboard in Alameda in 1954. He had been around for quite a while and was older than most second Class Petty Officers and had been at least a First Class at some time. I found out why after we arrived in the Philippines.
Our first liberty in Manila was a real revelation, there were about six of us, Miller, Hatfield, Cromer, myself and a couple of other “deck apes” checking out places of interest. We were riding around one of the Manila suburbs in a donkey drawn cart and stopped at a mom & pop grocery to buy a six Pac of beer. After one beer Cromer was actually drunk and almost incoherent.
We arrived at an entertainment facility “Bar and Dance Hall”, a very nice place and quite large. As we walked in the dance floor was full of couples dancing away, sailors and young women. On the far side of the dance floor Airedales took up all of the tables and on the near side Firemen took them up. The bar itself was taken by Deck apes so we moved into a tabled area next to but away from the bar somewhat. All of these sailors were from the Yorktown.
Just as we sat down the music stopped and everyone left the dance floor except for one lone air dale that was dancing all by himself in his stocking feet. He was twirling around with his eyes closed and just having a glorious time until he stumbled into a table of Firemen. One of them put his foot in the middle of the Airedales back and shot him completely across the dance floor into a table of Airedales. It was like a bomb exploded, there were Airedales fighting Firemen everywhere. We eased back against the wall and watched the action. I then noticed a fairly large, mean looking Deck ape standing at the bar pounding his right fist into his left hand, he was not from the Yorktown. A air dale stumbled into him, the deck ape picked him up with his left hand, shook him in the air like a rag doll, told him to stay still, then punched with a vicious right cross. This was repeated several times until he was out cold and was thrown away. Several Shore Patrol sailors arrived and were immediately embroiled in the melee without doing any good whatsoever. So we decided to ease outside before things really got bad. As we walked toward the street we saw the large deck ape was sitting on some poor Airedales stomach and working him over pretty good until a Billy club welded by a newly arrived Shore Patrolman succeeded in dislodging him with a good whack to the head. I lost track of Cromer during this melee and don’t know what happened to Cromer. I didn’t see him for several days.
Several weeks later while we were at morning quarters on the fan tail Cromer crawled out of the void underneath the fantail we called the paint locker. He had spent the night there drinking homemade brew of some kind. Our Divisions Ensign turned around and immediately told him he was on report. Cromer whipped his knife off its ring and chased the ensign up the hanger deck yelling and screaming that he was going to cut his n---ts off. I never saw Cromer again.
Miller, W E Seaman F Division
Miller was my best buddy on the Yorktown, along with Hatfield, we both came aboard while she was in Bremerton in 1952 and both got off in Yokosuka in 1954 for transportation back to the states and discharge. We were billeted at the navel base there and got to partake of the “Best Chow” we ever had in the military establishment. The mess hall at Yokosuka served family style meals, i.e., they brought all the bowls, platters deserts etc right to your table. If you wanted more you just held the bowl up at arms length, a waiter would pick it up at once and bring it back full, you could eat all you wanted and stay as long as you wanted.
Our routine was; get up, get dressed, get breakfast, assembly for roll call where we would receive working party assignments and travel orders. Usually most of us in our group were simply dismissed for the day and told to check the bulletin board in our barracks often. This routine went on for about four or five days then one morning Miller and I were assigned to a special work detail. We went down to one of the docks near that huge crane and assisted in tying up a LST. As the LST slowly neared the dock we kidded each other about how bad it would be to ride that thing back to the states. We all got a good laugh about that but soon forgot about it as we assumed our daily routine.
About four or five days later Miller came up to me with a broad grin on his face, he said guess what? I have my travel orders, I am going home but I am going on that god dammed LST. I laughed my head off.
Sure enough two days later Miller was gone and I was assigned sleeping quarters in a permently docked LST being used as a barracks. My rack was the top birth about ten feet up, I really worried about accidentally falling from such a height. I stowed my sea bag, took a shower and climbed gingerly up to my rack, took out a magazine and started to read. Just then my name was called and I was ordered to report to the after brow for transportation home.
I traveled to some Air force base near Tokyo and got on A four-engined Boeing Strata-Cruiser, landed at Midway to refuel and continued on to Hickum Field, Hawaii. I lay over there for two days then caught a C-130 for the states. Ten and 1/2 hours later we landed at Travis Air Force Base close to Sacramento. Four hours later a rickety old bus deposited us at Treasure Island, our new home, lousy chow, lousy weather, lousy treatment, lousy make work details. But two weeks after arriving I departed a civilian.
I called Miller a few weeks later and we figure the airplane I was on from Japan to Hawaii passed over the LST he was on 2 hours after take off. He told me it took 30 days to sail that LST from Japan to San Diego and they chipped paint all the way.
Yorktown's Shake Down Run shook us up!
Yorktown hits 36 knots
I was transferred to the Yorktown in late 1952 while she was still in a Bremerton Dry-dock being refitted after several years of mothballing after WWII. We lived in barracks on shore and worked on the ship during the day along with civilian shipyard workers. After several weeks of this routine she was finally ready for some preliminary sea trials and finally the shake down run.
The shake down run took place in the straits of Juan De Fuca. The final test was a speed run that was begun at 0200 hours with a loud pronouncement over the 1MC (PA system). Speed was gradually built up as all hands checked out equipment at their assigned stations along with the shipyard workers.
My assigned station was on the fantail along with another sailor from the 7th Division. The course being steered was like an elongated high school track around a football field. The Yorktown would race seaward close to the Canadian side of the strait then make a hard turn to port, reverse course and head back toward Seattle close to the USA side of the strait. This went on for several hours with the attained speed achieved being announced. As we passed about twenty-five knots the fantail began to vibrate the 3-inch gun mounts and their ready service lockers started to rattle along with support structures above the fantail. The Yorktown's 19-foot diameter screws began to churn up huge amounts of white water and the wake extended further and further in both width and length.
As speed was increased it became harder and harder to communicate both with the bridge and between personnel on the fantail. The fantail appeared as if it were sinking further into the water and the noise became deafening. A speed of 36 knots was finally achieved. At that speed my whole body was vibrating like to such an extent that I was becoming worried. It felt as if a giant hand was shaking me, I couldn't clearly focus on my immediate surroundings and I could not hear a single thing except equipment being shaken as if to completely tear it from the ship.
The Yorktown of course was not loaded down with planes, fuel, ammunition etc during this speed run and we never again attained this speed, or even tried as far as I know. After attaining this fantastic speed you would have thought that the speed would have gradually been reduced, well it wasn't, instead an all-astern announcement was made and all four screws were thrown into reverse. After about six miles the Yorktown sat dead in the water and it was announced that we had successfully passed our shakedown run and we sailed back to Bremerton at a leisurely 16 Knots.
Thurman D. Smith
Gunners Mate, Seaman
7th Division 1952-1954