9-3-01,Military Side, Bill Stokes, 1898 words
A Veteran's Last Voyage
By Bill Stokes
IPS Features
What's your goal
in life? To live to see the birth of a new century? You've accomplished that. To experience the inauguration of a
new president? You've seen that,
too.
Perhaps a more
formidable goal of a group of retired Navy veterans, including Palm Beach
County, Florida resident Dewey Taylor, was to bring home a stripped,
ready-for-scrap LST (Landing Ship Tank) all the way from its decomposing berth
in Crete to a permanent haven in Mobile, Alabama.
A final crew of
30, including Commander J. R. Carter (retired) who was the ships' executive
officer, did just that. Captaining the vessel on its return voyage was Robert
Jornlin, who also volunteered for this heroic adventure, the point of which is
to make the vessel a floating memorial to the LST and the men who manned them.
Their saga began
as a possibility, grew into probability and ended as reality in Crete on 17 July
2000. The United States LST Association, founded in Toledo, Ohio, specifically
to make contact and/or reunite Navy veterans who had served aboard these ships,
was able to scrape up $70,000 for food, expenses to Greece, where LST-325 was
tapped as "the" ship to reclaim.
Each of us
personally anted up $2,100 to finance the project," Taylor says. "This
covered food and fuel."
When the first
seven of an advance party of 29 retirees boarded LST-325 on the isle of Crete,
they found a forlorn hulk, slated for the scrap man's torch. The 325 had been
deeded to the Greek Navy in 1964, and was "pretty much let go to pot,"
Taylor says with scorn. On the plus side, Greek naval officials vowed their
support of the Americans' plan. (During the 30 years the craft had been in Greek
Navy hands, they renamed it Cyros L-144).
If only the U.S.
Department of State felt that positive: the branch had jurisdiction over the
ship and its fate, and vacillated between disinterest and stonewalling,
according to crew members in reports to the folks at home.
The crew could
not, for example, get the State Department to forward vital parts and materiel
previously shipped to Athens from the US. However, scuttlebutt had it that
American Ambassador to Greece. Nicholas Burns, was to receive weekly reports on
the ship's rebuilding process from the Greek ambassador, who was closer to the
action and was showing some governmental warmth to the project.
Early days
aboard the ship were dedicated to trash removal, serious cleaning, killing
roaches and other vermin, and inventorying the infinite number of systems that
required replacement or repair. More time was spent trying to dig up the
materials required to make LST 325 seaworthy for its voyage into destiny.
"We were to
have had a crew of 75 initially," Taylor says. "Some of the guys who
went to Greece thought this would be a luxury cruise, but when they realized
they'd actually have to work to get her seaworthy, then work some more bringing
her back, they bolted for home. So we ended up with a crew of 29. If someone got
sick, we'd have to double up."
When the crew
finally settled into its new dockside digs on 8 August 2000, the galley was
still inoperable, so the men had to walk a mile into town for meals - which they
had to pay for. Since LST 325 was an "unofficial" vessel, it received
no financial help from Uncle Sam. The task and funding of making the ship
seaworthy was due to word of mouth about the project, long hours and hard work
in 100-plus-degree heat in below-deck compartments.
As word of these
Navy veterans and their once-in-a-lifetime project spread among American
servicemen and women posted nearby, active-duty personnel gave up their long
Labor Day weekend - and other liberty - to pitch in. "Knowing these fine
young American men and a few ladies would come out to help a bunch of 'over the
hill' sailors gave us a message I find difficult to express," said an LST
325 crewman.
An initial
inspection revealed oil and water had flooded the engine room, the twin
propeller shaft alleys and the auxiliary engine room. Local barges would come
alongside and pump them dry. Batteries to start the engines also had to be
scrounged.
By mid-August,
2000, Greek officials notified the group they must be out of port by the end of
the month. Wishful thinking, given the staggering amount of work yet to be
completed.
By 18 August,
the crew was taking meals aboard ship. A crew member recalled the living
compartments, used mostly by Army or Marine personnel in the past, had
"four bunks (stacked) four high". These were somewhat less than first
class accommodations for a trans-ocean cruise!
By
mid-September, however, U. S. Ambassador Nicholas Burns was toasting the
project, expressing his strong interest in the voyage, and vowing to urge
support by the American and Greek navies. As one might expect, this was a
tremendous boost to the crew's morale. In early October, there was talk of
making a straight run from Gibraltar to Florida to avoid the North Atlantic
winter; bypassing a stop in Normandy was a disappointment but a necessity. On 18
October, LST 325 performed sea trials and was pronounced seaworthy. It would
normally have been occasion for celebration, but for the purchase of fuel.
"Do you
know how much 40,000 gallons of diesel fuel costs?" asked a crew member in
an e-mail home. In mid-November, there was real cause for celebration. Ms.
Priscilla Thompson, congressional assistant to Texas Democratic Congressman
Ralph Hall, interfaced with British Petroleum, which came through with 50,000
gallons of diesel fuel. Since a collection for fuel the crew had taken up netted
a grand total of $250, tanks brimming with fresh diesel fuel was a Godsend.
Another "angel" appeared in the form of Philips Petroleum, who donated
$20,000 to help cover preparation costs.
Back aboard
ship, Ambassador Burns gave Captain Jornlin a signed, sealed letter documenting
that LST 325 is "ours" and requesting any authorities to extend all
courtesies the ship might need. This was important, because LST 325 was sailing
as an unregistered ship and had none of the usual documents mandated of a
seagoing vessel. She cleared Crete on 16 November, formal title to the LST-325
in the captain's hands and Old Glory snapping in the wind.
Two days later,
the ship attempted to enter the Corinth Canal, but was told the Canal was closed
for a four-day Greek holiday. The ship made a disappointing U-turn back to
Athens. Even in the Mediterranean, the weather gets rough. Interspersed with
calm, sparkling waters were occasional 'rock and roll' moments: six-second
rolls, then the jaw-jarring shudder of the bow diving into a big wave. In
contrast, coastal Tunisia offered crystal-clear nights in which the Big Dipper
and constellation Cassiopeia were circling Polaris on opposite sides of the sky,
as Orion and his dog floated across the southern quadrant.
Of all the
legends born of World War II, the most famous is probably "Kilroy Was
Here." The LST-325 has its own, to which no solid credit has yet been
assigned. Therefore, accept the following for what it's worth:
"Anticipating Thanksgiving at sea, the ship's cook had brought aboard some
live turkeys which he chased around below decks, assisted by the Chief Bos'n.
Cook was almost out of turkey feed and the birds were royally messing up the
tank deck, anyway, so it was time for them to make the supreme sacrifice".
End of legend.
You judge whether it actually occurred.
Laying over for
a week at Gibraltar, the crew enjoyed shore leave to explore "the
Rock." Still in Gibraltar on 12 December, the crew performed last-minute
engine maintenance that could not be accomplished at sea.
In e-mail
messages, the ship's company extended Christmas wishes to families and loved
ones, praising the continued support of those at home and the effect it had on
their morale. Taylor stood a four-hour watch daily at the helm. Since an LST is
flat-bottomed - the better to slide onto a beach to unload cargo - keeping it on
course in rough Atlantic seas is tough.
"If you get
a little off course, you have to make a complete circle to come around. It's
critically lost time and fuel."
Satellite
telephone enabled crewmen to maintain constant contact with home. Says Taylor,
"I called Elizabeth often, and we're still getting phone bills to prove
it!"
Electrician
Bradley Wrinkle, a Tennessean, on 3 January, 2001 and a week out from the
States, marveled at what his fellow crewmen had been able to repair or put
together with so little to work with. "A 50-day trip has turned into 130
days, but we are getting still closer to Mobile."
A seven-hour
stopover 4 January, 2001, by LST-325 in Nassau, Bahamas, was reported by Bob
Madden, a former seaman who served aboard LST-708, and a long-time member of the
U.S. LST Association:
"The ship
and its crew looked in great condition. They took aboard lubricating oil, fish,
chicken, lettuce, bread, squash and other fresh vegetables." Madden said he
was a member of the reunion group but had to drop out because of vision
problems.
All Mobile was
primed for the ceremonious return of the 325 and its crew on January 10. Bands,
dignitaries, everyone went all out to welcome not only the ship but families and
friends of the crew. "Would I do it again?" Taylor muses at his
comfortable Greenacres home. "Knowing what I know now, Yes, I would."
The Future of
LST 325?
Dewey Taylor
says the LST Association is postulating two plans. One has the ship berthed next
to USS Alabama as a permanent museum. Another has the vessel traveling up the
Mississippi River, making stops at towns along the way, again to let Americans
come aboard and learn something new. Then, the ship would turn around and hit
all the western towns along the river. This moving museum could also visit ports
on the west coast some time in the
future.
Taylor enlisted
in the Navy at 17, and carries the obligatory serviceman's tattoo on his right
forearm.
In World War II
he served as coxswain (boat operator) on LST-452. He saw action in a number of
offensive landings, and was involved in 13 of 15 D-Day campaigns in the South
Pacific. Following action at Leyte Island, 452 was laid alongside a repair ship
at Hollandia, New Guinea, where it suffered serious damage from Japanese shore
batteries.
"50
soldiers on our ship were killed and three of our crewmen died. 17 of our crew
were wounded," he recalls. The 452 ultimately returned to the United States
before being sold to the Philippines for scrap.
Following his
discharge from the Navy, Taylor returned to his home town of Cincinnati where he
took a week off, then started job-hunting. He hired on at Kahn and Sons
meat-packing plant, where he worked through the ranks to
become a superintendent and retired after 43 years.
Taylor laughs,
"the company's motto was 'The Weiner the World Awaited.'"
During this time
he met Elizabeth Herdt through her brother. The couple will celebrate their 31st
wedding anniversary this year at their Greenacres, Florida home. Taylor's first
marriage resulted in two daughters, four grandchildren and seven
great-grandchildren.
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