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HomeMy WebLinkAboutHary, Edward M., Jr. - Bio [Anne Boxkin- WY't!L!~.9 Ha~ry.do< --- .= Page 1 ~ WWII Ed Hary EDWARD M. HARY, JR. TORPEDOMAN lIC U. S. NAVY - SUBMARINE SERVICE REFLECTIONS OF WORLD WAR II On December 7, 1941, I was attending Texas A & M College on a football scholarship and living in Dorm 12 which was the Athletic Dorm at that time. I was a typical young man looking forward to completing my education and getting on with my life. My roommate and I were on our way to breakfast when someone asked us if we had been listening to the news on the radio? We were told of the Japanese bombing Pearl Harbor and that President Roosevelt was going to announce that the United States would declare war on Japan. After hearing the President's speech I knew immediately that I would leave school and go home to Monahans, Texas to enlist in the U. S. Navy. I left A. & M. December 10th to return home and enlist in the Navy. My mother had to have an operation, so I stayed at home until she recovered. I enlisted in March 1942 at Big Spring, Texas. I was inducted into the Navy at Dallas and was taken to Boot Camp (Basic Training) in San Diego, California. This trip took about a week, due to the time our troop train had to sidetrack letting the more important commercial trains have the right of way. I stayed in boot camp just long enough to get all the necessary shots and was transferred to Balboa Park (Worlds Fair grounds). About two days passed when 20 of us were called to meet a Chief Petty Officer in a room. We were asked by him how many wanted to volunteer for Torpedo School in Keyport, Washington, which was about 20 miles south of Seattle. No one volunteered, so he said that was too bad, for us to get our Ditty Bags and Sea Bags packed, and be ready to leave at six o'clock in the morning for Keyport. This was the only method that the Services had to insure that there was adequate manpower in the many different divisions of the armed forces. That is how I volunteered to become a torpedoman!! Counting boot camp and torpedo school, I had spent about two months as an Apprentice Seaman, earning 18 dollars a month with two dollars taken out for insurance. After completing torpedo school, I was advanced to the rate of Torpedoman's Mate 3/C (Third Class) earning 34 dollars a month We could volunteer (really!) for Destroyers, Air Craft Carriers, Submarines, or Torpedo Boats, of which I chose Submarines. My thoughts were if it had to be, they would get all of me, and I might not end up crippled for life. After volunteering for submarine service, I was informed that I would be paid fifty percent of my base pay for submarine service, twenty percent for submarine sea duty, and ten percent for sea duty. According to my rate, I would receive a clothing allowance every two months. In order to qualify for submarine service in peace time, you had to be physically sound, have good eye sight, normal hearing, and all of your front teeth. You had to hold Munson Lung Breathing Apparatus in the event you had to make an underwater escape from a sunken. submarine. Anyone serving on submarines was supposed to be a qualified -1- I[~nne B,gykin - \JVWIIEdHa[Y.doc ".~~-- _._-~ ,,-,._~--~ Page 211 submariner. This meant that you were supposed to be able to take anyone's position on the ship and be able to do all the required duties even in total darkness. This usually involved several weeks of intensive training, and you had to pass an on-site examination by a qualified officer on board one of the training ships at any of the many submarine bases. However, because of the need for immediate personnel, you could serve temporarily on board. You had to qualify on your first two months of duty or else you would have to transfer to surface craft or to a Navy base. I qualified my first six weeks during my first patrol run which was on the USS Cachalot, (SS 170). After six weeks of Torpedo School, I was transported by train to San Francisco then by troop transport, USS Henderson, a converted freighter which was taken from Germany after the first World War. Upon reaching the submarine base at Pearl Harbor, I was assigned to the submarine USS Cachalot (SS 170) for duty. The Cachalot, commissioned in 1933, was in Marine Railway for refitting and repairs. After we made several test runs and dives to determine her fitness, we were routed to patrol duty off Kiska and Attu in the Aleutian Islands for about six weeks. Our primary duty was to observe the Japanese activities, go out to sea at night and report to our bases in Alaska. They would send planes into the area to hinder enemy activities. Of course we were given the directive to destroy any enemy naval vessels we might encounter. We had only one direct contact with the enemy when we sighted a troop-transport pulling into port. We fired two torpedoes at the ship. Immediately one of the lookouts on our submarine, a young man whom we suspected of being much too young to be in the armed services, and who had a definite lisp, reported to the Captain "widdle boat tumming up atern, sur." The Captain asked another lookout what he said, and when the Captain looked back there were two torpedoes approaching from our rear. Luckily one missed by ten yards and the other by a hundred yards. We had to dive to two hundred feet to avoid the enemy, thinking that it might be a destroyer. Since there were no depth charges dropped, it was assumed that it was an enemy submarine. This was just about all the activity to note except that we were caught in a hurricane for five days with winds up to eighty miles per hour and a temperature of twenty below Zero. We couldn't submerge to get out of rough surface because of thermal currents that could be much faster than we could run submerged. Consequently, we had to ride it out. Some of the crew had broken bones and almost everyone had bruises from being tossed about. You could only spend thirty minutes on topside as lookouts which normally consisted of four enlisted men and two officers for two hours. Due to the bad weather only two enlisted men and one officer could stand a thirty-minute watch. After our patrol run we were routed to San Diego for maintenance and supplies, and to give shore leave for those who wanted to go home or just relax ashore. From San Diego we were on our way from the Panama Canal to New London, Connecticut, when the circulating water pump on the port engine broke down. We had to pull into Ponce, Puerto Rica for repairs. We were sighted by a Coast Guard airplane that made an approach on us, but didn't fire or drop a bomb, and after several runs he recognized our flag and hand signals. The reason for his repeated runs was that our "Identification Friend or Foe" recognition signals had changed the night before and we were not aware of the change. We then proceeded to New London where the USS Cachalot served as a training -2- [Anne Boykin - WW..lIS~.~ry.doc._ - -- -- - Page31j ship for recruits and officers. Actually the next two years I spent on the training ship teaching new recruits how to operate the subs were probably the most dangerous duty I experienced. If they opened the wrong valve or pulled the wrong switch, we all could be lost. While I was serving on duty at New London, Connecticut, my fiancee, Ruth Jones, and I were married on September 4, 1943. We lived in New London until February 1945. I served on the Cachalot until November 1944 when I was sent to electrical Torpedo School in Portsmouth, NH, for two weeks. I returned to New London where I was assigned to the USS Toro (SS 422) which had been recently commissioned. Two days after I returned to New London, the Toro was routed to Key West, Florida, for several test runs which were called "Shake Down Runs." We then went to Pearl Harbor to replenish our supplies and ammunition, and then to our patrol area which was about 30 miles off the lower islands of Honshu and Shikoko, Japan. We operated in this area from February 1945 until the end of hostilities in August 1945. During this time we made two patrols of equal length, rescued nine aviators that were shot down over the mainland of Japan and who had parachuted into our area. Actually we had a submarine every thirty miles around the coast of Japan for rescue missions such as ours. The Japanese fleet was virtually destroyed by this date. We never encountered any contact with unfriendly ships or aircraft, but we had one occasion in which one of our own destroyers mistook us for a Japanese Patrol boat and shelled us with their guns. They were unable to get a direct hit; and we submerged to four hundred feet in event that they would depth-charge us. Fortunately, they never did drop any depth-charges. J About a week before the war was over, I had relieved one of the lookouts about 10:00 p.m. so that I could get some fresh air and enjoy some of the night time coolness. This was permissible if you were considered desirable as a lookout and you got permission from the officer of the deck. After being on lookout long enough to get my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I reported to the officer of the deck that I could see a glow on the horizon at a certain direction. He questioned my report because no one else could see a glow as I had reported. I answered that I had been trained that if I thought I could see anything abnormal, I was to report it, and he agreed. After reporting several times he said he thought I was seeing something that didn't exist, so he called the Captain to the bridge. The Captain questioned my observation and repeated that if I thought I could see anything abnormal I was to report it. He said he would find out if I really could see a glow on the horizon. He ordered a zig-zag course and told me to report what I thought I saw every few minutes. After about twenty minutes, he said I must be seeing a glow because I reported it in the same direction every time. So he headed in the direction I was reporting and ordered all ahead at full speed. After several minutes the sky lit up. He gave no explanation of what it might be, but the next morning we received the report of the Atomic Bomb that was dropped on Hiroshima, Japan. My observations and reporting were never mentioned, but I supposed that the events happened so rapidly that they overshadowed anything that I had reported. About a week before the war was declared over, my executive officer told me that he had three sets of papers for me. He said one was my Chief Torpedoman's Rate, -3- I~Boykin - WYYJlliJj~_r:x~oc _.' - -~---= ~ -~-~==~==~ Pag~ I permanent grade. Permanent Grade meant that the Navy could not reduce my rate back to a lower rate which was usually done after the end of any hostilities. In order to accept this rating, I had to sign the next set of papers which were my "Shipping Over" or re- enlistment papers for three more years of active duty. I asked him what the other set was and he said it was my Discharge Papers and I told him that was what I wanted. He and some of the "Regular Navy" tried to get me to sign over, but I never changed my mind. I tried to get a ride back to the states in every port that we entered on our way back home, but everything was full of personnel returning to the states. I had to ride the Toro to Saipan, Guam, Panama Canal, and Pier Ninety-two in New York City. After getting my orders completed, I was given train fare and put in charge of eighteen other "dischargees" to Camp Wallace near Galveston, Texas. I was formally discharged from the Navy at Camp Wallace in October 1945, paid the money I had coming and given bus fare to Bryan, Texas where my wife Ruth and daughter Linda Lee were living with Ruth's mother, Pearl J. Jones. The following event was the saddest event that occurred to me during my tour of duty. On the way back to the United States from our patrol area off the coast of Japan, we stopped off for fuel and supplies at Midway, HI, where we were given our mail that had been sent to us during the time we left Guam and arrived at Midway. I always had a bunch of letters, and I would read Ruth's last letter first in which she told me that my Mother had passed away about a week before the war was over. Mother was not in the best of health and told all the people she knew that all she wanted was to see her boys come home safely from the war. My brother and I were both serving in the Pacific Theater at that time. My wife had written my brother also to tell him about Mother, and he received her letter later than I did. Neither one of us were notified by the American Red Cross. How I wish I could have seen my Mother one more time, but such is the wages of war. I know a lot of people think Submarine service is extremely hazardous. In some ways I am sure it is, but we had a dry bed every night and the best of food to eat prepared by competent cooks. Quarters were cramped, but there is a special comradery among submarine sailors that we still enjoy today whenever we get together. Would I make the same decision today if I were confronted with the war situation we faced in 1941 ? You "betcha" I would. I was glad to serve my country. After my discharge from the U. S. Navy, I enrolled in Texas A & M College again and received my B.S. degree in 1949. I worked at several enterprises but ultimately ended up working for Foundation Seed Section of the Agricultural Experiment Station, College Station, Texas. I retired in 1982 and have continued to live in Bryan, Texas. I feel blessed to have shared almost 62 years of marriage with my wife, Ruth. We have two wonderful daughters and sons-in-law, six grandchildren, and seven great grandchildren. The three youngest grandchildren are all enrolled in Texas A & M University for the fall 2005 semester. Prepared by Edward M. Hary, Jr. Bryan, Texas -4-