LEON’S WARTIME
EXPERIENCES
LEON EMERSON
USS YUMA ATF 94
Leonemerson2@socal.rr.com <mailto:Leonemerson2@socal.rr.com>
Midway, 1944.
We pulled in to Midway atoll and
anchored. While anchored, we saw a lot of fish in the crystal clear
water. We had no fishing gear.
I got the idea that we could put
a pin on a string and I might land one. I got some canned corn, a safety
pin and dangled it down into the school of fish on a long white string.
Soon I had hooked a sizable sea bass, which appeared to weigh about a pound.
The water was very warm. The fish did not fight at all.
I played it along for some minutes
and it did not pull hard enough to straighten out the pin and get away.
It finally got tired. I gently led it around to the gangway, walked down
the ladder and lifted the fish out of the water with my hands. It was quite
a feat I thought with that string and safety pin. In any event I caught
my fish.
I cleaned the fish. The cook cooked
it that night for me and a couple of buddies. I still remember how good
it was.
The end of another fish story.
Sydney Australia - 1944 - USS
YUMA ATF - 94
"THE GREAT AUSTRALIAN BEER
CAPER"
When the USS YUMA got to Sydney,
Australia, the whole crew fell in love with the Aussie Beer. It was the
best beer we had ever tasted.
We got orders to go to Noumea,
New Caldonia. In loading our provisions, the crew requested of the Skipper,
Lt Hayes, to allow us to take a supply of beer for liberty in the Islands.
It was “illegal” to bring alcohol
aboard a navy ship or drink while underway, as we all knew. By this time,
we were getting a little raunchy and the word “G.I.” was something that
appeared in the Blue Jackets Manual. We knew we would not hit a real liberty
port for many months. It was our turn to join the War. Things were still
hot in the South Pacific area. (Noumea was within bombing range of the
Japanese. “Washing Machine Charley” came over almost every night - the
engine of the recon plane sounded just like a “washing machine”.
Finally the skipper relented.
He offered us a deal. We could buy enough beer to fill the brig. The brig
was not to be locked. The Master at Arms must take an inventory of the
beer every morning. The moment that one bottle was missing, the whole beer
cargo was to go overboard. We all agreed. We knew that none of us would
do such a thing, as every man aboard our ship was honorable and honest.
Sure enough, we did not make it
to New Caldonia when the Master at Arms reported that there was some beer
missing from the Brig.
The Old Man passed the word over
the PA System that all hands that was not on watch to form a supply chain
and pass every case of beer up the ladder and over the side. We were all
mad as hell, but that was our deal.
However true to his word and promise,
every last case of that beer went over the side of the ship. We were a
bunch of sad sacks all day long. We could taste every dram of that beer
as it went over. Needless to say, we were also very mad at an unknown shipmate.
We never did find out what happened
to the missing beer or our culprit. We had a few suspicions but no one
was talking.
That was the end of the Great
Beer Caper.
1943 - USS YUMA ATF 94 - NOUMEA,
NEW CALDONIA
We pulled into the beautiful harbor
of Noumea. It was a great anchorage completely surrounded by a long spit
of land. All of the land and hills on every side was a reddish color as
if there were painted that way. I think there was a large aluminum mine
there, or so it appeared.
Noumea was a French protectorate.
We docked alongside a flotilla of Destroyers, as there were not enough
docks to accommodate all the ships.
The Chief Cook, (also the authorized
purchasing agent) went to the supply dump with a work detail to get food
and supplies. It was guarded by a detail of Marines.
He was walking around with his
requisition list when he spotted a bunch of casks of medicine alcohol.
(There was a large mobile military hospital there). He ordered the truck
around and directed the work party to load one of the casks aboard the
truck (right under the very watchful eye of the marine guard).
He came back to the ship that
evening and informed the Skipper of his find. The Captain could see the
“handwriting on the wall”. He gave an order that as we were only going
to be there a few days and only 10% of the crew was allowed off the ship
at any one time for liberty, that all of the alcohol had to be consumed
that night and the next night.
We passed the word to the rest
of the destroyer’s crews that we were going to have a party and to bring
fruit juice for mixings. They crowded onto our fantail that evening. The
Cook brought out a great cauldron and we mixed that fruit juice with the
balance of the contents of the medicinal cask. WHAT A PUNCH!
Those of us aboard the ships in
the nest that night had one memorable party. I don’t remember too much
about it but we talked about it for months. It was a party to end all parties.
NUMEA, NEW CALDONIA - USS YUMA
ATF - 94
“BEWARE THE TOMATS”
At Noumea, it was the custom when
we drew liberty (only 10% of each ships crew each day was allowed ashore)
that each man got two cans of American Beer, but we had to go to the fenced
in “Stockade” to drink and enjoy our beer. However, if we chose, we could
go into the small native village of Noumea for liberty if we chose.
On day, Land, (a six foot signal
man), “Pee Wee” Eaves and myself drew liberty.
We decided to go into the village
rather than go to the stockade for the free beer.
Noumea was just a few degrees
below the equator and extremely hot during the day. We had to report back
to the boat docks at 4 pm to return to the ship.
We drifted around awhile, saw
all there was to see in the village and then settled into a small palm
frond covered bar with no walls. There was one lady bartender who spoke
sparse English. They had lots of rum and tomatoes, which was, grown on
the island, but little else. She told us the favorite drink of the “yanks”
was “Tomats”, a mixture of tomato juice and rum.
We ordered three, then six, and
repeated several times. I think each of us drank about a dozen. We
could not feel any effects of the alcohol. We felt that the native bartender
was feeding us only water. We complained. She warned us but kept serving
us and we kept ordering them.
About 3:30 PM, scarcely feeling
the effects of our drinks, we decided it was time to head for the boat
docks. There were no paved streets; all had about three inches of fine
dust.
We walked out in the street and
very very hot sun.
Land says, “I don’t feel so good”
and fell flat of his face in the dust.
Pee Wee reached down to pick him
up muttering that “Land could never hold his liquor” and he fell flat out
in the dust.
That is the last I remember until
I awoke next morning very dirty and very dusty.
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