Part 1: Six Days in a German Submarine

As luck would have it, a Navy Blimp showed up one day on our way back to Portsmouth and movie cameramen were hanging out of every window to take pictures of, as they put it, the “Victorious U.S. Navy Bringing is a captured German U-Boat”. At the time, we were smack in the middle of the Gulf Stream, which meant that the weather was pretty warm, even in the North Atlantic. At least, it sure felt warm compared to where we had just come from where there were great big ice cubes (ice bergs) in the water.

So what were the “conquering heroes” doing? Why, of course we were taking sun baths on the foredeck, what else? I guess that spoiled the desired image of the “conquering heroes” bravely bringing in an enemy ship. The footage never showed up on the Movie-Tone News…..there was no nightly news on TV back then. I suspect the U.S. Navy confiscated all of the film out of pure embarrassment.

EDITOR NOTE – There wasn’t even TV back then!

Back to the aborted fueling operation – there was obviously a German sub in the area and we were low on fuel, and the carrier was not about to repeat another fueling attempt, so next morning slightly before sunrise, USS FREDERICK C. DAVIS (DE 136) pulled in behind us so that we could head back to Argencia, Nova Scotia to refuel. The DAVIS had just arrived on Killer Group station from the very place we were going back to for fuel & R&G.

We had just gone over the horizon when we heard on the TBS radio that the DAVIS had just taken two torpedoes amidships and sunk in a couple minutes. One torpedo exploded in the engine room, the other in the chow hall during breakfast. Most of the crew died. Those saved were primarily the topside watch. The ship broke in two and sank forthwith. The DAVIS was in the exact same station we had occupied earlier in the day. She was the last ship lost to enemy action in World War II in the Atlantic.

EDITOR NOTE – USS DAVIS was sunk by U-546 under PAUL JUST (206-+-1986) and other American DEs immediately attacked and sank the U-Boat. Radioman, ARTHUR HUNTLEY (2283-+-1992) was one of the survivors of the DE and years later, he and JUST became good friends. HUNTLEY had a home in California and JUST kept a travel trailer on the property, and spent winters there in California. “ Yesterday’s Enemies are Today’s Friends” takes real meaning in this instance.

Prior to going to sea, I did design work at the Naval Research Labs in Anacosta, DC. One of my projects was to build a spectrum analyzer to go aboard a destroyer escort along with other electronic equipment.

Our spies in Germany had found out what Hitler’s newest “super weapon” was to be. Aircraft were to launch radio controlled bombs against our convoys. The planes could stand off far enough away so we could not hit them and still bomb the ships. A great idea, from Hitler’s point of view. At the Navy labs, we worked very hard and equipped a destroyer escort with what we hoped would be a counter-measure for the radio-controlled glider bombs. The ship joined a convoy.

In an incredible stroke of luck, the first time that Germany tried the glider bombs was on the very convoy that the DE with the counter measure was in. The newspaper headlines screamed: “Vaunted New German Super Weapon Doesn’t Work!”

Of course, there was no mention of the counter measure. What incredible good fortune for that convoy. I’ll bet Hitler had some scientists on a ‘platter’ about that. This was very embarrassing, since he had been bragging about that some new weapon would soon turn the tides of war. The name of the ship that ruined Hitler’s new glider bomb weapon? It was USS F. C. DAVIS, the very ship that took the torpedoes meant for USS NEAL A. SCOTT! My very first spectrum analyzer went down with her along with the men.

Our first convoy duty was UGS.63 from Hampton Roads, Virginia to the Mediterranean starting 11 December 1944. There were 110 ships in the convoy, not counting the five destroyer escorts. The slowest ship was running 9.5 knots, so that was the speed of the convoy. That sure was a slow trip – we did not get there until 27 December. On 24 December, a man fell overboard from ship #61 and we left our screening station to look for him. We searched back and forth for two hours but did not see him or the life raft that had been cut loose for him by someone on the ship he fell from.

The whole crew was topside looking for him. With the strong sea that was running, the only hope was to spot him on top of a wave. Even a life raft is hard to see if it is 100 yards away, let alone a head bobbing in the water. We failed to find the unfortunate sailor.

On our way to catch up with the convoy, a lookout spotted a lifeboat. The Captain sent a man up the mast to look into the boat to see if there were any survivors in the bottom. None could be seen and we could not let it drift about to be run into, so this was an excellent chance for some gunnery practice. Remember, the ship is rolling from side to side and the lifeboat can only be seen when it crests a wave and even better if we are on top of a wave at the same time.

First the 20mm guns open up. While they make a few hits, most go over or drill holes in the intervening waves. Next the 40mm guns try their luck. They drill bigger holes in the waves but do not sink the lifeboat. At last the 3 inch .50 guns get their chance! They do drill much bigger holes in the waves. Finally one shell hits just below the lifeboat while it rode atop a wave. There was a massive explosion and the lifeboat was blown to bits. Not even a 3 inch .50 could cause that much of an explosion.

It seems that we were not the first to spot the lifeboat. A German mine laying submarine had evidentially found it first and attached a mine to the underside of the lifeboat. We all fully appreciated the sagacity of the Skipper for not just pulling up alongside the lifeboat to look inside. Lifeboats made great ‘bait’ during wartime and it was necessary to exercise real caution when attempting any rescue. Thus passed Christmas Eve 1944.

EDITOR NOTE – We’ve never heard of any U-Boats making such a booby trap from lifeboats. Anyone have any information on any such instance? At this time in the War, only one of the six Type VII-D mine layers was left and the few big Type X-B that remained had been converted to transport duty on the Far East run. Anyone?

At last we reached Europa Point, Gibraltar, the end of our ocean escort duty & we proceeded to Mers El Kebir, Algeria. The Vichy French had used this port for the Vichy French Fleet. When the American invasion force showed up at the beginning of the North African Campaign, the French ships were trapped in the harbor. They chose to scuttle their ships rather than letting them fall into our hands. The harbor was shallow, so the ships rested on the bottom with the decks above water. They made real nice piers to tie alongside.

The harbor had no other piers, so these sunken ships were just great. The one we tied to was so close to shore that a gangplank had been attached that reached the shore. Ashore was an enclosure guarded by French Foreign Legionnaires and inside of that fence were large bare areas enclosed by rolls of barbed wire that had been used to hold prisoners of war.

The Captain decided that this was a good time to hold a “Beer Party” for the enlisted men. Morale, you know, so we were marched down into one of those prisoner of war compounds. The beer arrived and we all sat down in the dirt and drank a couple of beers. A few dedicated men had three or four; then we were let out of the barbed wire enclosure and went back aboard.

The next day was better – Liberty! Oran was close to Mers El Kebir, so there we all went, ½ the crew at a time. Outside of the Foreign Legion gate, we were immediately ambushed by a hoard of little boys, each of which – if you were to believe him, had a “first time” beautiful young sister. Everything was for sale or barter.

One of the sailors had wrapped a bed sheet around his body under his uniform. When he displayed the sheet, frenzied bidding started among the boys. The winner bid 5,000 Algerian francs. The folded bed sheet was handed over with one hand and the folded 5,000 franc note with the other. In a flash, the kid ran off as fast as his legs would carry him. Upon examination, the 5,000 franc note was really a 50 franc note with the extra two zeroes cut out of the other corners of the note and glued to the corner that could be seen. So much for bargaining with the kids.

When we got into the city of Oran, I was surprised to see a really dense mob coming down the street. Only when it close could I see it was really a streetcar with so many people hanging off of every part of it that I could not see the streetcar itself.

Naturally, my buddy and I had no trouble locating a bar – and then another – and another. Having heard the old story, not to mix different kinds of booze, we decided to discover at last whether there was any truth in it. We tried it all – wine, schnapps, whiskey, champagne and even some North African hooch – and beer (which was really awful). In one of those bars there were at least one or more of every nationality except German, Italian and Japanese.

No member of those three nationalities would have lived more than ten seconds before being torn apart. The stories being translated were mostly about escapes from PoW camps, jails and other forms of detention – escapes through front lines and through borders, and of sabotage in Germany, France and Italy. Wild stories they were, probably many or most true. Each story got multiple translations. The atmosphere was electric.

We returned to our ship in the early light of morning in the back of a dump truck along with about 20 other sailors and the Captain of one of the other destroyer escorts. We were all in a very amiable condition. When morning came, I was really thirsty. After drinking some water, I became really dizzy and in desperate need of lots of fresh air. I went down into the engine room and turned on the pressurized blower. By standing directly under the blower and hanging onto the railing, I thought I must just survive if I didn’t move………..too much.

Throughout the day, I ventured to the water fountain to quench my thirst only to get dizzy all over again. I stood there all day. By suppertime, I was able to eat then promptly went to sleep in my bunk. Mercifully, it was Liberty time for the other half of the crew. I was awakened sometime in the night with a loud ‘BONG!’ then it was quiet again.

Just as I was going back to sleep, I heard running feet and then another ‘BONG’! I got out of my bunk to investigate the strange noises. There, out in the passageway, lay a sailor in his Blues, crumpled up against a bulkhead. He was stirring and getting ready to get up for another run. He thought he was a goat and was butting the bulkhead for practice! It took a while, but I did convince him that he really was not a goat, and I took him to his bunk. I’ll bet he had a worse hangover than mine when he awoke in the morning.

He was one of the nicest guys aboard, the son of an Alabama farmer. He once told me that his mother had told him never to let “Demon Rum” pass his lips. I don’t know if it was rum or schnapps or what, but the demon got him that night in Africa. I wonder if he ever told his mother about that night.

This is a great piece of first-person history from the War at Sea, and a lot of laughs too. Any of us who have served in the military can relate to some if not all of the things FRANK talks about. This great sea story will conclude in KTB #180 next month. And any other veterans – please step forward with your memories too.

Part 3: Six Days in a German Submarine