ww2letterproject

The convoy moved west.  At sunset, the order was given to “Prepare to darken ship.” Most of the troops went below deck where they tried to sleep on canvas beds as the ship pitched and rolled.  In the morning, the shrill bos’n whistle announced reveille; it was time for calisthenics.  The days dragged by with monotonous routine.  Days were not remembered by dates but by events e.g., the day those three Japanese planes dove screaming into the convoy or the day ice cream was served for lunch.

Chow time, even with the long lines, was looked forward to with a sense of anticipation. Food on US Navy vessels was good.  However, if you were on an Australian ship, then chow time meant things like boiled liver or sardines and tomatoes on toast for breakfast and for dinner perhaps mutton chops, mutton stew, or mutton pie.

The overcrowding aboard the ships resulted in strict water discipline.  On some ships water was turned on for less than 30 minutes each day.   The men could shower once a week and waited in long lines and overheated shower rooms.  They played cards to pass the time, with huge sums of money won and lost in poker games.  Reading material was scarce.  On clear nights, you could spend time on deck savoring cool breezes while star gazing.

My mother was one of eleven children.  Extended family gatherings were common.  There were common themes to these gatherings: food, conversation and card games.  The following is one my earliest childhood memories.

My mom’s parents lived in a farmhouse.  Our family arrived on a wintry Sunday afternoon.  Dinner was served family-style on the long table in the kitchen where a nearby stove provided more than ample heat.  Afterwards I, my sister and our cousins played and the adults talked.

Evening’s darkness came.  I and the other children were sent upstairs to bed.  We marched up steps into a bedroom, then climbed into a large bed and sank deep into the feather-stuffed mattress.  We were covered with a quilt and ordered to sleep. Never.

Our warden left.  We waited a few minutes, then crawled out of bed and towards the center of the room where there was a closed vent in the floor about a foot in diameter.  Its purpose was to provide a path for warmth from the kitchen below into the unheated bedroom above.  One of us quietly rotated the vent open.  It was as if we had discovered a secret panel.  We stared into the kitchen below, and there were Dad and Mom and other relatives directly below us only a few feet away sitting at the kitchen table playing cards.  The players talked and laughed.  A sort of card game ballet began. Dad gathered a scattered pile of cards.  “Tap, tap, tap” as he squared the cards into a neat stack.  He split the deck into equal parts and, holding a split in each hand, he bent the cards slightly and fanned them together and into a single stack while creating a staccato “whir.”  He shuffled the cards a few more times, then began to deal.  He slid a card off the top of the deck and flipped it spiraling towards the player on his left.  He continued dealing cards in a clockwise pattern to the four players, the cards making a “click, click, click” sound as they struck the table.  The players gathered and sorted their cards.  We heard phrases, “pass… pick it up… I’ll go it alone.”  Once play began there was little or no conversation.  The hand ended. 

The player to Dad’s left gathered the scattered cards and the ballet repeated and repeated and repeated… I tired of watching and my eye lids grew heavy.  I crawled across the floor and into the big bed and snuggled under the heavy quilt.  Soon the room grew silent.

Someone nudged me.  Strong arms lifted me from the big soft bed.  I stood and swayed as my limp arms were guided into my coat sleeves.  I was lifted again and this time cradled in those strong arms and carried down the stairs.  Hushed goodbyes were spoken. I was carried into the dark, cold night. A car door opened, and I was laid on the back seat. No seatbelts.  There was the sound of crunching gravel from beneath the tires as the car began to move.  A few or perhaps many moments later, my eyes opened slowly as I looked out the car window into the dark night sky filled with twinkling stars.  It took too much effort, so I let my heavy eyelids close.  I heard the hum of the tires as I drifted towards sleep.  The hum became a lullaby “… so swiftly we do fly that we’re safe in bed by morning when the sunbeams touch the sky.”

On the morning of December 18th the convoy reached the allied base in Huon Gulf, New Guinea.  There the 37th joined other troops and joined in a full-dress rehearsal for the landing in Luzon.  The convoy left and moved to the huge naval base on Manus Island.  There the troops on deck could see Navy cruisers, aircraft carriers and battleships.

The troops would spend Christmas of 1944 on the Island of Manus.  It was their third in a row away from home. They were given time off for R&R.  The Navy had unlimited beer, and there was time for swimming, and a game of baseball.

On December 27, the assault force began to leave the Naval base.  The operation was supported by 818 combat vessels including seven battleships, seven cruisers, and thirty-two destroyers.  The convoy maintained nine knots.  On the fourth day at sea, US fighter planes joined the convoy.  Now USAF Black Widows, Thunderbolts and Lightnings circled the convoy continuously.  January 6, 1945, Bill Nance celebrated his 24th birthday.

On January 8, the day before the assault, ammo was dispersed, men attended church services and wrote letters home. The final act was the stripping and cleaning of weapons.

At dusk, General Quarters sounded, and the convoy came under attack from five planes.  All ship guns opened fire and three of the planes are quickly downed, but the carrier USS Kitkun Bay suffered damage from a kamikaze plane and dropped from the convoy.  The troop ship HMAS Westralia was targeted by another kamikaze plane.  An observer on the ship relayed a live report to those below deck during the air attack, “There is a Jap plane coming directly for us… he is going to hit us.  It….”  The ship trembled from a mighty explosion and the stern lights went out.  The tip of the plane had hit the fantail, slightly damaging the ship, and then went into the ocean exploding on impact with the water.