’ Spirit of 4 45 5 WWII MEMORIES
70 Years Later, Still Our Heroes Supplement to the July 22, 2015 edition of the Port Townsend & Jefferson County Leader
Spirit of ’45 •
PORT TOWNSEND & JEFFERSON COUNTY LEADER
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Index 3: LaMoine Leavitt, Europe & Pacific
4: James Caldwell, Navy Seabee
4: Harold Johnson, Sub hunter
5: John Blankenship, U.S. Marine
6: Carl Johnson, LST on beach
6: Raymond Bower, Combat tug
7: Chuck Brown, Tank crewman
8: Grace VanDuzer, WAC in Italy
8: Leonard & Walt Klockers, Aircraft carriers
10: Bruce Alshouse, North Sea ditch
10: Henry Rogers, Merchant Marine
11: Ken Sanford, Navy bomber
12: John Baker, Submariner
14: Tyler Kaune, Salvage & rescue
14: Robert Robison, Night patrol
15: Mahlon Gane, West Coast
16: Lyle Kundson, “Guinea pig”
17: Fort Worden 18: Inez Hinrichs, Joe Sullivan, James Riecke, Doing their duty ≈ Fred Obee & Patrick J. Sullivan, editors Marian Roh, Layout & Design
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Thanks, veterans
Celebrating the 70th anniversary of WWII’s end BY FRED OBEE
The recruits hailed from every crossroads, small town and city in America. Many joined the service right out of high school, eager to get in the fight. World War II was a conflict like no other. No less than the survival of the free world was a stake. Port Townsend had been an Army town since the Coast Artillery became established in the early 1900s at Fort Worden, and nearby Fort Flagler and Fort Casey. In 1940, with many other nations already engaged in war, the U.S. military began a push that included the construction of many “temporary barracks” at the local forts to house Washington National Guard trainees, and new recruits. Large cannons stood at the ready in concrete emplacements to defend against enemy ships although Imperial Japan’s attack at Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941 (and other American military installations) reaffirmed that aircraft presented perhaps the most dangerous threat. The German army that began the war in 1939 surrendered unconditionally on May 7, 1945. Imperial Japan’s armed forces surrendered on Aug. 15, 1945, with the paperwork officially signed on Sept. 2. On this 70th anniversary of the war’s end, American celebrations and remembrances are planned Aug. 14-16 to recognize the sacrifices of everyone involved. There will be parades, and memorial events, and flyovers and recognitions everywhere. This magazine is our small part in that effort. Of course, a proper recognition would not be complete
Veterans’ Support
A Veterans Resources Guide for Clallam and Jefferson counties was updated in April 2015 by Jeff Reyes of the Northwest Veterans Resource Center at 216 S Francis St. in Port Angeles, WA 98362. It includes all key areas. A portion of the information is published here. For more details, call Jeff Reyes at 360-797-1791 or 360-670-9112. View at clallamconnection.info/documents/ Veteran_Resources.pdf STATE VETERAN AFFAIRS The Washington State Department of Veteran Affairs offers an abundance of services to our veterans. For more information, call 1-800-562-2308
This machine gun emplacement became part of the defenses at Fort Worden in 1941 after Imperial Japan attacked and brought the United States into a world at war that ended in August of 1945. Photo courtesy Puget Sound Coast Artillery Museum
without remembering those who gave “the last full measure of devotion,” as Abraham Lincoln said at Gettysburg. Jefferson County residents who gave their lives in World War II are: Woodrow Andrus, Charles F. Berkshier, Joseph Burton Bowman, James Broshear, Homer Cameron, Marvin Cays, Jack Currie, Morris Eldridge, Robert C. Ely, Howell Emley, Melvin E. Glen, John M. Gray, James Hulburt, Howard Johnston, Ralph H. Kiel, Thomas A. Maraldo, Bruce Matheson Jr., Jack L. McInnes, William H. McNeil, Orivel K. Morris, John J. Odell Jr., Leslie E. Odell, Edward L. Paddock, Richard L. Pierson, Joseph A. Pisczsek, LeRoy C. Porter, William H. Poston, Arthur C. Ramsdell, Luz G. Rogers, Merritt S. Sanders, Chester A. Smith, Donald Snook, David H. Strong, Theodore A. Stuart, David H. Swartz, Harry Fredrick Valliere Jr., Walter Wills and Lonnie B. Wimberly. The stories in this magazine come from the lips of people who served or from family members who recorded their
✪ Spirit of ’45 •
Jefferson County Memorial Athletic Field opened in 1948. The facility is dedicated to the men from Port Townsend and Jefferson County men who gave their lives in defense of their country, both in World War I (12 men) and World War II (38 men). Photo by Patrick J. Sullivan
experiences. Living World War II veterans are all in their 90s today, with rare exception. We recognize this magazine provides only a sampling of the ways World War II touched this community. Many who made great contributions are not mentioned here, but they are nonetheless in our thoughts and our hearts on this important anniversary.
PORT TOWNSEND JEFFERSON COUNTY LEADER
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SENIOR VETERAN ASSISTANCE Senior Information & Assistance: call 1-800-801-0050. Located at 915 Sheridan St. #202, Port Townsend, WA 98368. DISABLED AMERICAN VETERANS DAV, Jefferson County: Denny Gregg. Gregg schedules appointments at the Senior Information & Assistance office in Port Townsend, 915 Sheridan St. # 202, Port Townsend, WA 98368. For more information, call 360-385-2552 or email dennygregg@gmail.com. SERVICES OFFICERS ASSOCIATION Jefferson County government has a relief fund for eligible veterans in need. To learn more, and to gain direct contact to the Jefferson County Veterans Service Officer nearest you, call Carolyn Avery at 360-3859122. There are service officers at American Legion Post 26 in Port Townsend, VFW Post 7014 in Port Townsend, VFW Post 10706 in Brinnon, and VFW Post 3213 in Quilcene. AMERICAN LEGION POST 26 The Marvin G. Shields Memorial American Legion Post 26, 209 Monroe St. in Port Townsend provides support, advocacy, aid and a social environment. The post hosts a winter shelter. Call Gary Lane, post service officer, 360-731-6398.
Leavitt landed in Normandy, also served in the Pacific BY JUDY HARWOOD
This is in memory of my father, LaMoine Leavitt of Quilcene, who served with the U.S. Army’s 32nd Signal Light Construction Battalion during World War II. On Feb. 26, 1944, the battalion was informed they were to load that afternoon on a troop transport. The next morning, the USS Lyon steamed out of New York, destination unknown. After a cold voyage of 12 days they landed at Bristol, England. They immediately boarded a train for Atherstone, Warwickshire, England and set up a temporary camp and prepared for the greatest invasion of all time. Dad arrived in Normandy seven days after the D-Day invasion. On the evening of June 14, he debarked at Oma-
ha Beach under severe bombing. His unit worked with the first Army troops in France, Belgium, Luxembourg, Holland and Germany. Their mission was to construct and maintain telephone communications for the First United States Army. His Company B was assigned to operate and test stations in the wake of First Army advances. In a let-
LaMoine Leavitt landed on the beach in Normandy seven days after the D-Day invasion. The Quilcene native was part of the advance into Germany. After the war in Europe ended, his unit was shipped to the Pacific theater, and he served in the Battle of Okinawa. Photo courtesy LaMoine Leavitt
ter to his parents in Quilcene he wrote: “We were right in the breakthrough in December. Then came the Rhine Crossing. You should see Cologne, Duren and all the big cities – just flattened.” After the Battle of the Bulge, he traveled more than
800 miles to Calais, France, where the battalion stayed for six weeks before boarding the USS Butner on July 7, 1945 for a destination still unknown. After passing through the Panama Canal Zone he landed at the Pacific island of Okinawa on Sept. 1, 1945. In Okinawa, his unit captured 71 Japanese sol-
diers living in a cave. LaMoine also served in the Marshall Islands and Guam. In the travel log it shows they traveled two-thirds of the way around the world. The achievements of Company B were recognized by the commanding general and chief signal officer of the First United States Army when they were the first company of the battalion to be awarded the Meritorious Service Plaque, a unit award second only to the Presidential Citation. The company and individuals received decorations and awards not only from the U.S. but also from France. LaMoine died in 1980, and his family is so proud of his service to our country during WWII. ✪ Judy Harwood is a resident of Port Townsend, Washington.
As long as there are veterans
the Elks will never forget them
In the last four years we helped vets with nearly $40,000 in donations: Heart Beat for Warriors: $22,900
An annual Christmas season event that assists the families of wounded warriors. The Lodge ‘adopts’ the families of wounded warriors over the Christmas holidays, brings them to the Lodge from all over the Northwest, and celebrates them with gifts and gift cards; the Elks also respond to wish lists from their kids with toys and clothes. Warm hospitality blankets this annual event.
Wounded Warrior Project: $3,000 Washington State Veterans Home: $2,750 Wheelchair access ramps: $2,250 Special Ops Warrior Fund: $1,250 Vet Connect OlyCap Program: $1,200 Air Commando Association Special Ops: $1,000 American Legion Homeless Shelter: $1,000
Spirit of ’45 •
Puget Sound Honor Flight: $1,000 Guided Fishing for Wounded Warriors: $1,000 Lead the Way Fund for Army Rangers: $500 SeaTac USO lounge: $450 Blue Star Recognition of Local Vets: $350 HOW YOU CAN HELP
• Aug. 22 car wash, garage sale and barbecue at the Highway 20 Roadhouse, 9 am to 1 pm • Nov. 7 auction, dinner and dance at the Elks Lodge, 5 pm • Direct donation: Elks Veterans Fund, 555 Otto St., Port Townsend WA 98368 • Join the Elks “Having fun making a difference”
BPOE Lodge 317 555 Otto St., Port Townsend (360) 385-0317 • www.elks.org PORT TOWNSEND & JEFFERSON COUNTY LEADER
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Johnson witnessed Peleliu invasion, survived hurricane BY FRED OBEE
Jim Caldwell and a friend pose in front of a sign on Manus Island. During World War II, the Pacific island first was an Australian base, but it fell to the Japanese in 1942. A two-month campaign in 1944 restored the base to Allied control, and a naval base was established there. Photo courtesy Caldwell family
Caldwell spent 19th birthday under fire on Manus Island BY CHRISTINE BABB
Though he wasn’t born in Port Townsend, my father, James Caldwell, was raised and graduated from high school there. He enlisted during World War II as a member of the U.S. Navy Seabees (the name stems from Construction Battalion, or CB). Dad spent his 19th birthday arriving on Manus Island under enemy fire. He landed on the island to build landing strips. Of course, the enemy spent its time bombing that construction, so large foxholes were also dug. During one shelling, my father was hit, but had most of the shrapnel removed. He received a Purple Heart, but he felt it wasn’t deserved because his injuries were not as severe as others were. He did, however, feel an attachment to the shrapnel that remained in his side. After Dad returned to Port Townsend, he eventually went to work for the Crown Zellerbach paper mill. He married,
Caldwell connections in World War II Veterans of World War II who are connected to the Caldwell family who are Port Townsend alumni: 1914: Tony Sofie, great-uncle, Army 1916: James Sofie, great-uncle, Navy 1929: Chester Richards, great-uncle, Army Band
ni Association and his favorite pastime – golf. He even became a professional caddie for the LPGA. When my dad passed away, my brother Dib, along with my mother as well as siblings and other relatives, instituted the Jim Caldwell Rhody Open Memorial Golf Tournament. Many relatives participated and continue to participate in the Rhody Open. Many of these relatives were also veterans of WW II. They are listed here by year of graduation from PTHS. James Daubenberger and Jack Caldwell are still alive and reside in Port Townsend. Bonzo DeLeo’s daughter Linda also lives in Port Townsend. As it is probably obvious, our family is extremely proud of our relatives’ service to our country during World War II.
Cape George resident Harold Johnson is 92, and he still remembers the fear on the faces of Marines as they prepared to land on the beaches of Peleliu, a tiny speck of land in the island nation of Palau. Johnson’s ship was there to support the invasion of the island, where the Japanese had constructed an airstrip. Unknown to the invasion force, they also had carved an extensive network of caves in the coral rock. It was supposed to take three or four days to defeat the Japanese and take control of Peleliu. It took 70 days and was one of the bloodiest battles in the Pacific theater. “We were positioned off the beach, and the landing crafts pulled alongside,” Johnson said. To give support to the men, Johnson and others began filling canteens the Marines handed up to them. “The look on those guys’ faces. Knowing they were going into battle. That’s something I will never forget. They looked scared,” Johnson said. The Marines had every right to be fearful. Thousands lost their lives on the beaches of Peleliu. Many thousands more were wounded or injured. The battle at Peleliu was the worst of the combat Johnson saw when he served on PC 1230, a submarine hunting patrol craft armed with guns, rocket launchers and depth charges. He hunted German submarines off the Atlantic Coast and Japanese submarines all over the Pacific. As a radioman, he was in charge of the radar department. Once he picked up the blips of seven planes coming in, and when they didn’t respond to the usual requests to identify themselves, Johnson raised the alarm, and the ship’s crew scrambled to general quarters.
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1933: Martin Sofie, great-uncle, Navy 1935: Peter Sofie, great-uncle, Navy/ Army/Army Air Corps 1938: Mickey DeLeo, great-uncle, Army
1940: James “Bonzo” DeLeo, cousin, Coast Guard 1940: Margie Daubenberger Deland, cousin, Navy 1942: James Daubenberger, cousin, Navy 1942: Jack Caldwell, uncle, Navy
1944: James A. Caldwell, my father, Navy 1945: Neil Willestoft, cousin, Navy 1945: Ralph Campbell, cousin, Marine Corps
had nine children and lived to see most of his grandchildren. He became active in coaching Little League football, the Port Townsend High School Alum-
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Christine Babb now lives in Stockton, California, and her family ties to Port Townsend remain strong. Among her many relatives who still live here are her mother, Betty Caldwell, and brother Tim Caldwell.
Spirit of ’45 •
PORT TOWNSEND JEFFERSON COUNTY LEADER
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Harold Johnson is seen here in his Navy uniform. He entered the service in 1943.
“We were ready for those planes when they came in,” Johnson said. As a result, serious damage was avoided. Japanese ships and planes weren’t the only dangers that lurked in the Pacific. At one point, PC 1230 sailed straight into a hurricane south of the Philippines. Johnson remembers being with the skipper on the bridge as the ship rolled in heavy seas. Both Johnson and his commanding officer were young men in their 20s struggling to control the ship as it listed hard to one side. Fortunately, they were able to bring the ship around and it righted itself. They found out when they returned to Guam for repairs that the stress of the maneuvers during the storm had broken four major seams in the hull. After the war, Johnson became a machinist and ultimately had a career with the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. He and his wife, Esther, had three daughters. “It was just something we had to conquer,” Johnson said of the aggression shown by Germany and Japan. “Our lives were on the line, but there wasn’t time to be scared.”
Blankenship’s father served with Tyrone Power BY JOYCE BLANKENSHIP
In 1997, I taped an interview with my dad, his twin brother, my stepmom and two aunts. There’s a lot of laughter on that tape, although they were a little bashful with the machine running at first. It wasn’t until this sit-down around my kitchen table that I learned my father, the U.S. Marine, was in the same platoon as Tyrone Power, the movie star. Dad was 74 when I learned of this, and I wondered why he’d never brought it up before, especially since I’ve always been a fan of the movies. He said Ty was just like everyone else and had to stand in the chow line to be fed. It was no big deal, and they didn’t see him as a movie star. When I asked Dad what he did in the Marines, he replied: “I was gun fodder.” I’d never heard that term and asked him what it meant. His brother laughed
and said: “It’s someone to be shot at.” I looked the term up on Google recently, and it said: “Cannon fodder is an informal term for combatants who are regarded or treated as expendable in the face of enemy fire.” I’ve got two pictures of Dad as a Marine. One in a boot-camp photo in San Diego showing him in the front row, third from the right; and another on Guam, where a very young John Blankenship is seen wearing a white T-shirt. He’s standing in the front, looking down. I’ve studied the large glossy several times to see if Tyrone is there, but I haven’t been able to declare that for sure. Tyrone attended boot camp at Marine Corps Recruit Depot San Diego, and then attended officer candidate school at Marine Corps Base Quantico, where he was commissioned as a second lieutenant. He served in the Pacific theater, carrying supplies into embattled Iwo Jima
Joyce Blankenship’s father served in the Pacific during World War II. In this boot-camp photo, he is in the front row, third from right. Photo courtesy Joyce Blankenship
and carrying the wounded out. Later, he served in Saipan. Dad was stationed on Palmyra Island, 352 miles north of the Equator; the Marshall Islands;
Okinawa; and Pearl Harbor. If he were here now, I’d get after him for downplaying his role in World War II. He carried a rifle, after all.
✪ Joyce Blankenship is a graduate of Port Townsend High School and a blogger on ptleader.com.
Pace-setter for saving wounded warriors:
Jefferson Healthcare’s Dr. H.R. Bohman J
Dr. Harold R. Bohman spent 20 years saving U.S. Marines, retiring as a Captain, U.S. Navy in 2011 and bringing his commitment and skills to Jefferson Healthcare in 2012.
834 Sheridan Street, Port Townsend (360) 385-2200 • jeffersonhealthcare.org
efferson Healthcare is proud to care for veterans of all ages, and equally proud to employ veterans whose service to the country has been followed with service to county residents. One of them is Dr. Harold R. Bohman, a general surgeon and colon and rectal specialist with Jefferson Healthcare Surgical Associates. Raised in Illinois, he was attending the College of Medicine at the University of Oklahoma in 1971 when the military offered to pay for medical students’ education in exchange for a few years in the service. He joined the Navy, graduated from medical school in 1975 and spent the next seven years in Navy hospitals in Philadelphia, Oakland and Guam, where he became a board-certified general surgeon. In 1983, at Rutgers, he became a colon rectal surgical specialist. In 1985, then at Bethesda Naval Hospital, Dr. Bohman completed his obligation to the Navy, and shifted to private practice in Sacramento, CA, but remained in the Navy reserves. Then came 1990 and the first Gulf War. Called to active duty, Dr. Bohman served on Navy ships in the Gulf region. When his six-month tour was up, he realized he was just getting started. “I wanted to stay,” he said. He returned to active duty. The Navy sent him again to Oakland, then to Camp Pendleton, CA, where he was assigned to the Marines. Still a Navy man – he retired as a Captain – he would spend the next 20 years saving the lives of U.S. Marines. Those 20 years were a timeline of U.S. battles abroad: Beirut. Somalia. Afghanistan. Three tours in Iraq, including its bloodiest phases – the initial invasion and the terrible battle for Fallujah. Dr. Bohman was more than an exceptional combat sur-
Spirit of ’45 •
geon. He was the Officer-in-Charge of a team that changed the way combat surgeons could work, and as a result saved a lot of lives. His team had developed a small, mobile unit that traveled light and fast, keeping pace with the front-line troops during the maneuver phase in 2003. The staff of eight set up quickly, operated quickly, and moved stabilized warriors to larger medical centers in the rear. Over two days just outside Baghdad, he recalled, they cared for 78 casualties, operating on 14 in a 24 hour period. In 2003, “Every single Marine we operated on survived,” he said. They cared for not just U.S. soldiers, but Iraqi civilians and soldiers too. During the fighting in Fallujah in 2004, any wounded warrior who came to Dr. Bohman’s tent “with any palpable pulse had a 97.5 percent chance to survive.” By 2006, that statistic was over 98 percent. His mobile units were in demand by all frontline commanders. In 2006, he was awarded the U.S. Army Medical Research and Material Command’s Combat Casualty Care Award for Excellence. Dr. Bohman retired from the Navy in 2011. He and his wife Cathy, a Lutheran minister, had already purchased land on the Toandos Peninsula in Jefferson County, and had begun building their home. His long-awaited retirement lasted just three months -- he realized he really wanted to continue the work he loved. In February 2012 he came to Jefferson Healthcare in surgical practice on a part-time basis. “I love it,” he said. “It’s a top-notch facility with a top-notch staff.” He joins Dr. Jay Lawrence, Dr. Mitra Jafari and Dr. Don George at Jefferson Healthcare Surgical Associates.
PORT TOWNSEND & JEFFERSON COUNTY LEADER
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Johnson supplied invasion force on Iwo Jima beach BY FRED OBEE
Marrowstone Island’s Carl Johnson served in the U.S. Navy beginning in August 1942. He worked in the engine rooms of LSTs, large ships capable of carrying tanks, trucks and troops and landing them on beaches through big forward doors. He first was assigned to LST 483, which delivered troops and supplies to the Aleutian Islands. He then returned to the states and was assigned to LST 725. That ship traveled down the Mississippi River to the Gulf of Mexico and transited the Panama Canal to the Pacific Ocean. As they loaded the ship in Saipan, they had little idea about where they would end up. As it turned out, LST 725 was the first LST to land on the beach at Iwo Jima in that epic battle. In all, the invasion force was made up of 485 ships and 63 other LSTs. Also on hand were 500 smaller ,36foot landing craft carrying troops that assaulted the island in waves. Johnson’s post was deep in the engine room, so he didn’t see a lot of the battle that was raging outside. Luckily, when the ship was on the beach delivering supplies, it was so close to Mount Suribachi, the Japanese stronghold, that big Japanese guns couldn’t be lowered enough to hit them. Remarkably, Johnson was in the engine room one day on Iwo Jima when he was told he had a visitor. It was his brother-in-law Jack Dill. He was part of the invasion force fighting to win control of the island, and Jack recog-
Raymond Bower
Bower served on combat tug
Carl Johnson served aboard this ship, LST 725, which delivered vehicles, supplies and troops to beaches at Iwo Jima and Okinawa. Photo courtesy Carl Johnson
nized the number on the LST and knew Johnson must be aboard. Even as the battle raged, the two visited and shared stories. When it was time to go, Dill asked if Johnson could spare any coffee. The frontline troops were out. “I didn’t have anything to put it in, so I filled up a pillow case,” Johnson remembered. LST 725 was on the beach at Iwo Jima for 14 hours, pulled off, was reloaded and it went back to the beach one more time. From Iwo Jima, Johnson’s ship went to Okinawa, another fierce Pacific battle. Johnson remembered that as a fierce fight, but “Okinawa wasn’t as bad as Iwo Jima,” he said. After the Japanese surrendered, Johnson’s ship delivered occupation forces
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Carl Johnson stands on the porch of his Marrowstone Island home. His ship delivered supplies and vehicles to the beach at Iwo Jima. Photo by Fred Obee
and supplies to Japan. He went ashore there. The sailors stayed in groups of 10 or 12, and they were eyed suspiciously everywhere they went. “They would keep an eye on you,” Johnson said. Today, Johnson lives just across the street from the family business, Marrowstone Island Shellfish. He was born in Port Townsend, but moved to
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the island when he was 1 year old. That was 93 years ago. His time in the Navy made a lasting impression. He saw a lot of fierce fighting and was happy to make it home in one piece. There were times aboard the LST when he wasn’t sure that would happen. “You just wonder if you are ever going to get home again,” he said.
PORT TOWNSEND JEFFERSON COUNTY LEADER
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Raymond Earles Bower joined the U.S. Navy in 1942, and was a signalman second class in the South Pacific, serving primarily on the USS Tawasa and on several Pacific islands. The Tawasa was a Cherokee-class fleet tug that aided ships, usually by towing, on the high seas or in combat or post-combat areas. The ship and its crew earned three battle stars during World War II. In January 1944, the ship assisted Task Force 52, the Southern Attack Force, for the invasion of the Marshall Islands. Off Kwajalein Atoll on Jan. 31, Tawasa performed salvage, towing and screening duty until Feb. 18, when it moved to Eniwetok to assist in the assault that was to strike that atoll the next morning. Bower was discharged on Jan. 3, 1946 in Bremerton, Washington. He is the father of Karen Bower, who was born and grew up in Port Townsend and has lived in Port Angeles since 1981.
Brown went from PTHS graduate to tank crewman in Europe BY SHELLEY BROWN REISS
My dad, Chuck Brown, was born in Port Townsend in 1925 and was drafted on his 18th birthday, March 9, 1943, when he was a senior at Port Townsend High School. He departed in June for basic training and was processed through Fort Lewis, along with several high school friends from Port Townsend. My dad’s journey took him to Camp Campbell, Kentucky, for basic training; then to Abilene, Texas, for an additional nine months of training; to England in September 1944; and then to France and Germany with the 12th Armored Division. He was involved in dreadful combat in the Alsace-Lorraine region of France, and at the end of the war was in Innsbruck, Austria. He returned home to Port Townsend just before his 21st birthday, having already experienced the most intense period of his life. It’s an amazing story, though not unlike so many others of his generation.
Port Townsend native Chuck Brown entered the service in 1943 when he turned 18.
My dad’s grandparents had come to Port Townsend during World War I, when his grandfather became the director of the YMCA that had recently opened here. They brought with them their youngest daughter, Ruth, who met and married a soldier, Charles Brown, who was stationed at Fort Worden. The cou-
ple lost their first child at birth and were deeply impacted by the Depression, eventually losing their house and car and moving several times in an effort to make ends meet. When my dad was 9, his father left his small family after giving my dad his gold watch and the $200 discharge payment he’d received for his service in WWI. This event had a lasting impact on my father’s life. He and his mother moved to his grandparents’ home on Pierce Street, where an aunt, Blanche Reed, lived and supported herself, her parents, sister and nephew through her jobs as a telephone operator. When he was still quite young, my dad began doing odd jobs in town to help, and eventually got a job delivering milk for the Glendale Dairy. Dad was delivering milk on Water Street early on the morning of Dec. 7, 1941. He’s mentioned many times over the years how still and quiet it was in Port Townsend during the Depression and early war years, because so few people had a car
or the money for tires or gasoline. On that morning, out of the quiet, a young soldier from the fort, who had a guitar over his shoulder, came running down the middle of Water Street yelling at the top of his lungs: “The Japs have bombed Pearl Harbor, the Japs have bombed Pearl Harbor!” My dad was the only soul around, and had no idea what this kid was yelling about. Of course, the whole town learned very soon. On the day after war was declared, the principal of the high school spoke at an all-school assembly about the grave consequences that awaited, and told the kids that many of them would surely be personally impacted. While my dad was with the U.S. Army in Europe, my mother, Corinne Burns, four years younger, was attending Port Townsend High School, working in the afternoons at the soda fountain at O’Neill’s Pharmacy, and going to dances twice a week at the USO Building downtown and at Fort Worden with her best friend, Pat Abraham, or her beloved older
Proudly Supporting those that serve and give all Spirit of ’45 •
PORT TOWNSEND & JEFFERSON COUNTY LEADER
sister, Evelyn Twitchell. My parents met on a double date after the war and married at the Oak Bay home of my mother’s parents in September 1948. They moved around the Northwest while my dad worked for the postal inspectors, and eventually settled in Seattle in 1960. They still live in their own home, ages 86 and 90. My husband and I have a home in Port Townsend, where we spend about a third of our time now, and hope to be permanent residents within the next few years. We share the house with my parents, who love to be in the town where they grew up, and where they still have a few old friends. An oral history my father made for the 12th Armored Division Museum in Abilene, Texas, is available to people who are interested. It’s a long recording – the interviewer was quite taken with my dad and his story – but much of it focuses on Port Townsend during the Depression, and I think is well worth watching. The website is: 12tharmoredmuseum. com/oral-history.asp.
800-859-3463 www.ssnwHQ.com •7
VanDuzer landed in Italy with WAC BY LANCE ROSMAIER
In May 1943, my mother, Grace VanDuzer was a 21-year-old working at a bank in Brooklyn, New York, verifying account signatures. One Saturday morning that May, she went to a local recruiting office and enlisted in the WAAC (Women’s Auxiliary Army Corps). Her folks sort of knew something was up but she hadn’t told them of her intention. In fact, the only time her dad (a World War I veteran) made mention of anything was when she told him about going overseas – he told her she’d better go and tell her mother herself. Shortly after enlisting she was at Fort Devens, Massachusetts, participating in 10 weeks of basic training. Her recollection of “basic” was that it was a bit physically taxing but not terribly challenging and, shortly thereafter she took a bus to her duty station at Madison Barracks, New York, on the shore of Lake Ontario and 30 miles from Fort Drum. Grace wasn’t offered any post-basic training but recalls her one fear was that she would be sent to “Bakers and Cooks” school. At Madison Barracks she was assigned to the Post Adjutants office and began updating the post’s “Army Rules and Regulations.” After a while the “top sergeant” escorted her to the cellar, led her into a room that was composed of metal bars, showed her a bunch of strips of paper, locked her in the “room” and left her to figure out how those strips of paper fit together. (Early cutand-paste!) When Madison Barracks was deactivated, Grace was sent to Camden, New Jersey, and worked at a recruiting office. Because she had a driver’s license she was tasked with delivering a movie projector to various locations for recruiting
Grace VanDuzer’s one fear was that she would be sent to “Bakers and Cooks” school. Photo courtesy Lance Rosmaier
drives. When the WAAC was deactivated, Grace enlisted in the Women’s Army Corps (WAC ) and was sent on a troop train to Fort Oglethorpe, Georgia, for overseas training. Shortly thereafter she took another train to “somewhere on the coast” where she and her fellow soldiers boarded an “old Italian boat” for the Mediterranean. The WACs were bunked threehigh on board. After leaving the U.S. coast the “old Italian boat” encountered engine trouble and had to fall out of the convoy. Their only view was of one of the convoy’s escorts which circled the boat on the horizon. With the engine operating again they rejoined the convoy and steamed to the west coast of Italy for a short layover (while there was still fighting in Monte Cassino). Grace and a fellow WAC took a jeep ride with a couple of GIs during the layover and, when they returned, one of the soldiers told the WACs they’d been behind enemy lines. She dismissed this as the guy trying to impress them. The next move was to Algiers where the unit was stationed in a museum building. It seems the only excitement in the two months there was when
a German aircraft, probably on reconnaissance, flew overhead and someone dropped their helmet on the marble floor. Time in Algiers was spent preparing for the return to Italy and after “a couple of months” Grace boarded another boat for Naples, took a troop truck ride to a town called Caserta where she lived in town and worked at cryptography in the local castle. She recalls her interaction with the Italian civilians as kind of strange at first but after a while they’d go into town and the GIs would enjoy gelatos. It was sad that the GIs had to guard the garbage because the civilians were likely to scrounge through it for the scraps. During her free time Grace visited Sorrento and Capri, and even got to attend a group audience with the Pope in Rome where he blessed a crucifix that Grace sent to a friend’s mother. Working in the castle (which she recently got to see on Rick Steves’ program) was straightforward with a lieutenant for a “shift officer” (she enjoyed working nights) and a major as the unit commander. Grace ended up working days as the commander’s secretary. All the cryptographers had secret security clearance and there were two officers with Top Secret clearance who did the really sensitive work. One day Grace came to work and there was lots of excitement – the Germans had surrendered! The only problem with knowing this was that they had to keep the secret until “the general” was contacted and made an announcement. The message of President FDR’s passing was also received and decoded while Grace was at work. After VE Day she “just kept going to work” until October 1945 when Grace boarded another troop ship for a journey back stateside which was pretty rough. It seems the Atlantic in the fall is a tad rough and “everyone on board” was seasick.
U.S. Army Cpl. Leonard Klockers was part of a Spokane Air Service Command program (aimed at encouraging civilians to support the war effort) at the airfield in Spokane, Washington, that included an appearance by Tex Ritter, known as a movie star cowboy. (Note the black-out curtains from this 1943 photo.) Photo courtesy Jan Boutilier
✪ See VANDUZER, Page 9▼
Spirit of ’45 •
Klockers brothers did their service
Brothers Walt Klockers and Leonard Klockers grew up in the Forest Hill area (now known as Swansonville) near Port Ludlow in Jefferson County, and both did their part during World War II. Walt Klockers entered the U.S. Navy on Jan. 16, 1942 and served four years. He was a radioman assigned to an admiral’s staff, serving on the aircraft carriers USS Yorktown and USS Lexington. Leonard Klockers entered the U.S. Army on Oct. 26, 1942 and became a cook, and
PORT TOWNSEND JEFFERSON COUNTY LEADER
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then a medic. Leonard loved to tell stories, and one of his favorites was the time he shared the stage with Hollywood star and singing cowboy, Tex Ritter. Leonard wrote home, “He put on a program for the boys. I got to appear on his program as I too am a western cowboy singer. The photographers took a picture of Tex and I at the microphone. That was about the biggest thrill of my army career.” A collection of letters and Continued on page 9▼
VanDuzer: Staff sergeant ▼Continued from page 8
That trip ended with the ship entering New York harbor where so many of the returning troops went to the port side to see the Statue of Liberty that the crew had to order people to move as the ship was listing so much. Grace went to Fort Dix, New Jersey, for discharge and she remembers being fed steak and rich food which resulted in lots of people getting ill because they weren’t used to “real” food. She was discharged that October as a staff sergeant with technicians rating and found work with Trans World Airlines, working in Rockefeller Center. Her sister, future husband (Curt Rosmaier) and brother-in-law George all worked for American Airlines. At age 93, Grace now lives in Camarillo, California, and enjoys reading and watching British television and is still sharp as a tack. She’s a strong,
Walt Klockers during his time at U.S. Navy boot camp in 1942. Photo courtesy Jan Boutilier ▼Continued from page 8
newspaper clippings from the Port Townsend Leader provide family with glimpses of what it was like during World War II. In this letter, Walt Klockers writes home to his family from a naval installation in San
Francisco, California: “I expect to ship across very soon now, but I’m ready to go, because I’ve been on land long enough. I sort of like the Navy and have met a swell bunch of fellows. I’ll still take Washington as my favorite state.
Climate and all, there is none better. I sure enjoy getting the Leader every week to keep up on the home town news. Would like to say hello to all my friends at Port Ludlow and vicinity and would appreciate a letter from them anytime.”
humble person and I feel it’s partially due to her service to her country during a very critical time in our history. Her family of five children, numerous grandchildren and great-grandchildren are certainly proud of their mother and grandmother and her contribution to the war effort, doing her part to counter the evil and horrors of WWII. Grace isn’t often brought to tears, however when someone close to her acknowledges her time and sacrifice, and that of all those other people who gave years of their young lives to their country with a common cause, a few tears may fall. When I asked my mother what she did “in the war” she responded, as so many others of her generation, saying “I went to work.” ✪ Lance Rosmaier is Grace VanDuzer’s son and lives with his wife Donna near Kala Point in Jefferson County, Washington.
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Rogers proudly served in Merchant Marines
The original crew of a B-17 bomber pose for a picture after stateside training. Port Townsend resident Bruce Alshouse is in the back row on the far right. Photo courtesy Bruce Alshouse
Alshouse bailed out of crashing bomber over North Sea Port Townsend resident Bruce Alshouse was one of 10 men in a B-17 named Damdifino II flying over the North Sea on a training mission on Sept. 24, 1943. The plane was flying with other bombers when 10-15 German fighters dove on the formation. The enemy planes came out of the direction of the sun, making the fighters almost invisible, and machine gun fire ripped into the bomber’s fuselage. An oil tank behind the number-three engine was hit and caught fire, and the bomber peeled away from other planes. Going down and with the threat of an explosion high, the captain ordered his crew to bail out. They opened the bomb bay doors, and Alshouse looked down at the clouds swirling below them. Below the cloud cover, a flotilla of British ships was steaming toward Holland to intercept an enemy convoy when they heard the sound of an airplane overhead. The ships slowed their speed, and the crews looked to the sky trying to glimpse the plane. Within moments, they spotted the American bomber, nosing down toward the sea about a half mile away with one wing in
flames. With binoculars trained on the airplane, the British sailors saw specks drop from the plane and then the floating parachutes of the crew bailing out as the bomber as it continued its gentle glide downward to the sea. “We were in a dive at 250 miles per hour when we started jumping,” Alshouse said. “I was the last one to jump and was about 1,000 feet above the water when I went out. Just as soon as I pulled the ripcord and my chute opened, I hit the water. I inflated my life preserver but it didn’t work. The waves were about 15 feet high and my chute was dragging me across the sea.” The British ships swung into action, positioning themselves downwind so the survivors would be blown to waiting vessels. It took about 45 minutes to rescue the crew, but Alshouse was still missing. Exhausted, he struggled to stay afloat. Three times boats passed him by without spotting him. “I went under several times,” he said. In a last ditch effort to find Alshouse, the British crew shot flares into the air, and then faintly, they heard a shout somewhere upwind of their position. They moved toward the sound,
firing more flares and following the shouts until they spotted Alshouse’s dark head bobbing in the water. Just as he was being brought aboard, Alshouse lost consciousness. “The next thing I knew, I was having my feet rubbed vigorously by two English seamen, but still I couldn’t feel my toes. After an hour of rubbing, my feet came back to life.” Alshouse was one of the lucky ones. Three members of the bomber crew did not survive. “The five of us who are still alive feel pretty good,” he wrote home after escaping with his life. “Don’t ever razz me again about my big mouth, because that is what saved me. The British crew couldn’t see me, but one just happened to hear me shout. The English sailors are swell people. Don’t ever let anyone tell you different. I owe my life to them. Don’t forget to say a prayer for the English sailors. I do it every night.” ✪ Port Townsend resident Bruce Alshouse is 92, and this story is taken from published recollections of the crew. His daughter, Cathi Baillie, and her husband, Tom Sesler, also live in Port Townsend.
Henry Rogers of Port Hadlock is always dapper, always ready with a witty response and always ready to make a contribution. That’s the case now and that was the case when World War II rolled around. Rogers chose the Merchant Marines as his path to service during the war years, and it was hazardous duty. Merchant ships faced danger from submarines, mines, armed raiders and destroyers, aircraft, “kamikaze” and the elements, just like warships. About 8,300 Merchant Mariners were killed at sea, some 12,000 were wounded, and 663 men and women were taken prisoner. In all, 66 died in prison camps or aboard Japanese ships while being transported to other camps. Thirty-one ships vanished without a trace. The danger to merchant ships was so great, Rogers remembers, that if ships in the convoy were attacked and damaged, the undamaged ships were ordered not to slow down to pick up survivors, because ships slowing down and stopping became sitting ducks. In the spring of 1946, Rogers was the chief mate on the Norway Victory, a large cargo ship. “We were returning from the Mediterranean with soldiers after the fighting was over,” Rogers remembers. “We came into the Erie Basin in Brooklyn, which is no longer there. As we pulled into the dock, the Andrews Sisters were singing a big hit of theirs, ‘Sentimental Journey,’ with a full orchestra behind them. As we pulled in there was a pier that they were on at the boat deck level and they were singing that song as the soldiers were marching down the gang-
✪ Spirit of ’45 •
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Henry Rogers of Port Hadlock served in the Merchant Marines from 1942 to 1946, ferrying supplies and troops all over the globe. Photo courtesy Henry Rogers
way. When the soldiers got on the gangway, they went single file past the Andrews Sisters, and a staff sergeant called out each name of the soldier. For example if he called out ‘Rogers,’ I would reply ‘Henry’ and then they would know that you were back and checked you off the list. “After the soldiers were all off the ship, we continued up the Hudson River to pier 90, where we picked up German and Italian prisoners of war and took them back to Italy and Germany. Then we went to France and picked up more U.S. soldiers and brought them back to the Erie Basin. Sure enough, the Andrews Sisters were there to greet us again with ‘Sentimental Journey’! “We then returned to northern France with more prisoners of war and picked up more soldiers to bring home; again, the Andrews Sisters were there singing ‘Sentimental Journey.’ By this time it had become old hat to the crew, but the returning soldiers loved it.”
Sanford piloted attack bombers in the Pacific Ken Sanford spent two ninemonth tours from 1943 to 1945 in the Pacific flying the PV-1 Ventura and the PB4Y-2 Privateer. As a result of his actions with the U.S. Navy, he was awarded the Silver Star, four Distinguished Flying Cross medals, three Air Medals, and the Combat Action Award. These awards were given for bringing his damaged aircraft back to base, surviving a kamikaze attack, fighting off 15 enemy fighters as well as many other encounters. Sanford and his wingman were credited with sinking 11 enemy ships. Sanford recounted his experiences as a Navy attack bomber pilot in his book, “Crew Six” (1996). In his book, Sanford recounts one mission where his bomber and its crew went in search of enemy vessels off the coast of Korea. After several encounters, sinking two ships and leaving others in flames, Sanford and another bomber he was flying with spotted a large tanker surrounded by “picket boats,” ships loaded with
Ken Sanford is 94 and lives in Port Ludlow, Washington. Photo courtesy of Sanford family
anti-aircraft weapons, a few miles off the coast of Japan. With two 500-pound bombs at the ready, Sanford made his approach about 50 feet off the water. “A shower of anti-aircraft fire erupted as we came into range,” Sanford wrote in his book. “My turrets were now firing as we skimmed a few feet over the water at 200 knots.” Tracers streaked around him as he closed on the target. He planned to drop the first bomb under the
bow and the second amidships. As the ship’s big bow loomed large he pulled up, dropped his first bomb, cleared the ship’s mast and dropped the second. Moments later, he heard his crew cheering behind him as the tanker exploded in flames. For a moment, all was celebratory. Then, suddenly, Sanford felt a jolt and his bomber began to shake. “The shuddering told me the aircraft was badly wounded and we were on our way down,” Sanford wrote. He tried the controls and the ailerons, flaps on the trailing edge of the wings, didn’t respond. With great effort he managed to keep the plane from rolling, hitting the water with one wing and cartwheeling across the ocean. But it looked like they were going down, the crew prepared to ditch the aircraft and Sanford struggled to control the plane as it turned back toward the picket boats. Luckily, manual controls to operate the aileron worked, and the plane slowly responded. They were still airborne and headed out
to sea and beyond the range of enemy fire. The plane, however, was a long way from being out of danger. Compasses were spinning wildly, the crew was fighting exhaustion and dumping equipment and ammunition to lighten the plane’s load. The radar was operating, though, and the crew turned the plane on a heading toward home. Glancing out the window, Sanford saw his wingtip oscillating up and down and he worried aloud about what would happen if the wing sheared off. As the plane was lightened, and as Sanford found an agreeable airspeed, some of the shaking began to abate. But there was more trouble ahead. Dark black rain clouds loomed ominously in the distance. “On entering the storm, our visibility was reduced to zero. Turbulence and heavy rain pounded the aircraft. I kept glancing out the window to see if we still had a wing,” Sanford wrote. As they charged ahead, through hours of bad weather, they were guided by
American warships that picked them up on their radar and corrected their heading. The last message they received informed them their runway was 10 miles ahead. Sanford worried about the damage to his plane, didn’t know if his wheels would descend, but he decided he was going to put the plane down, whether wheels and other systems worked or not. Then, there was a break in the weather. “The clouds slowly separated as we were three miles out. I could hardly believe my eyes. The duty runway was dead ahead and we were lined up perfectly to make a straight in approach.” Luckily, all systems worked and the plane set down without incident. A survey of damage showed two 40 mm rounds had wiped out the main spar, the structural member that provides the main wing support. Only the rear spar, much smaller and thinner, was holding the wing together. “It was a day to remember,” Sanford wrote, “and most importantly, Crew Six made it back alive.”
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The Atule returns from its wartime duty to Portsmouth, New Hampshire, where it was built and launched. John Baker was among its original crew. Photo courtesy John Baker
Baker patrolled the Pacific aboard the sub Atule BY FRED OBEE
Port Townsend’s John Baker couldn’t wait to join the U.S. Navy. A Seattle native, he’d seen the big ships in Bremerton and thought nothing would be better than being a sailor. “World War II was the last good war,” Baker said. “I joined the Navy the day after I graduated from high school.” The 18-year-old did well on the tests the Navy administered, and it sent him to radio school. Ultimately, he found himself in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, assigned to the brand-new submarine Atule, named for a fish common in the Pacific. The crew jokingly referred to the boat as “O’Toole,” and their official logo was a pipe-smoking Irish fish carrying a torpedo. “I’m a plank owner – that’s what they call a member of the original crew,” Baker said. While he was on the boat, Baker participated in four pa-
trols in the Pacific, sank eight enemy ships and destroyed 51 mines. At times, the Atule cruised close to the coast of Japan. He describes his time in the service as perhaps the most important thing he’s ever done in his life, and although his crew engaged enemy ships close to Japan, and dodged bombs and mines, “I was never scared,” Baker said. He recorded his memories in book form, and a portion of them are online at johnrober t atule.wordpress. com/tag/submarine. In his first wartime patrol, Baker found himself near the Philippines. The air was filled with enemy planes, and a number of Japanese ships plied the waters. “They thought that they could drive us away! Ha. Nighttime was our chance to howl. We always dove for the day before sunrise. Of course, this meant we couldn’t surface until after dark. We always spent 12-
14 hours submerged. Eventually, the oxygen level in our sewer pipe drops low. Hard to keep a cigarette or a match lit. Always a relief to surface and get those first breaths of fresh air. I recall during that first patrol I didn’t see any daylight for about 60 days. Once in a while we could climb to the bridge at night for fresh air, but it always had to be in darkness.” They traveled in a wolf pack most of the time, a group of submarines that could come to each other’s aid when necessary. On one patrol in January 1945, the Atule and its crew were accompanied by USS Spadefish (SS411), USS Bang (SS-385) and USS Devilfish (SS-292) headed for the Yellow Sea and the East China Sea. They would spend 30 days in this area for a total of 62 days on patrol. “I was a radioman. The radio shack itself is quite small; only room for two chairs side by side along with radio transmitters, from refrigerator size down to some as small as a phone book.
✪ John Baker attends a Memorial Day ceremony in Port Townsend. He joined the Navy at age 18 and became a submariner.
Spirit of ’45 •
PORT TOWNSEND JEFFERSON COUNTY LEADER
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“Enemy planes never hesitated to drop their bombs if they got the chance, but lucky for us, they weren’t accurate. Aircraft had been a real problem while [Japan] still controlled the Philippines, and it seemed we were up and down all night long. Poor Bongiorno, the baker. He had to bake at night, and you can imagine what pressure changes did to his products! “To enter the Yellow Sea, which separates China and Korea, we got the word that we would be passing through an area heavily sewn with mines. Here I discovered that it paid to be ignorant. So many of us were greenhorns, we had never been around any mines before. A few of the ‘old salts’ had been. Average age on O’Toole was 23. The oldest man was Marchand, at 40. Captain Jack was 34. So, I guess that’s why youngsters make good “soldiers” – they’re too dumb to realize what’s happening. Too dumb to really be Continued on page 13▼
▼Continued from page 12
scared. But some of the older guys knew the score. I noted that a few of them were a bit shaky during that passage. But we made it. “This was about the middle of January 1945, and it was so cold for the next month that we often dove just to melt the heavy layer of ice that formed all over the topside area. If the hydraulic vents atop the main ballast tanks froze hard enough, we wouldn’t be able to dive. Lookouts could only stay at their posts atop the perimunity Owned” — must appear above ile Co. logo.The scope tagline canshears also be for just a few minrom the logo and when using the logo WA. utes at a time, even though they were wearing extra-heavy gear, PRIMARY VERSION including face masks. I knew I The logo and tagline lock-up should not be cold on watch, even altered in anywas way anddarn should always be reproduced from an approved electronic file. The tagline typeface is Oldstlye. when I sat right over the electric heater in the radio shack.” Near the end of February ALTERNATE VERSIONS in the Yellow Sea, The versions 1945 shown belowwhile should only be used when appropriate. the crew spotted a medium-size merchant ship at 21,000 yards. Two types of torpedoes were on board: the conventional steam torpedo, propelled by a mixture n d, WA e n d, WA of air, water Port andTownse liquid fuel; and newer electric torpedoes. Each had different capabilities. The big advantage of electric torpedoes was they didn’t leave a trail of bubbles in the water, which alerted enemy ships to the attack and helped locate the submarine’s position. “At periscope depth, we kept tracking the target through snow, and used our stern tubes and our Mk 18 electric fish, since they had greater depth control than our steam fish. The target appeared to be a brand-new engines-aft freighter. Set the depth at 3 feet and fired four torpedoes. The first fish struck abreast of his stack, and the second near his after mast. The ship rapidly settled stern first as the crew quickly manned two motor lifeboats (one on each side). Just as the lifeboats cleared, the damaged rear section broke off, taking the engine room with it. The forward half popped up like a cork, floating higher than ever. “About this time, I heard one of our lookouts shout: ‘Look, they’re sending blinker signals to us.’ Captain Jack answered: ‘Signals, hell! He’s firing at us with his 40-mm
cannon!’ So we dove and fired a steam torpedo at him. We missed. We had had shells exploding on either side of us, so we hastily left the immediate area and withdrew to decide our next move.” They planned to use their 5-inch gun to sink the remaining portion of the ship, but the gun jammed in the freezing weather. “One more LOGOTYPE steam torpedo would have to be used. At a three-degree setting, it bounced along like a porpoise, but went
straight. As we retired northward we could see that the bow was down and the rear was sticking up. Up to that point, the ship had had excellent watertight integrity.” Enemy ships weren’t the only things targeted by the Atule’s crew. The submarine also was asked to destroy floating mines. “We were now en route to a patrol station east of Hangchow Bay and sighted our first floating mine about 30 miles southwest of Socotra
Rock. In short order, we sank five mines with our 30-caliber machine gun. Contact mines are about 5 feet or so across and have several horns sticking out. Theoretically, when a horn is struck and broken, the mine explodes its hundreds of pounds of explosives. These mines were usually moored to the bottom at the end of a cable attached to an anchor. The areas where they were sewn were very often just where submarines were likely
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to travel.” “Log of 30 January 1945. The lucky O’Toole! 0030. Floating mine bounced disconcertingly down the port side of the ship, plainly heard by the bridge watch and officers seated in the wardroom.” After the war ended, Baker married and raised a large family, became a pharmacist and worked in that profession for 30 years. He then quit to become a truck driver. Today, he is retired and living in Port Townsend.
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Thank you, dad! My father served in the Navy during World War II on a mine-sweeper and, then decommissioned Navy ships in Seattle after the war. I am proud of him and the men and women he served with.
Alice Ann Cantelow
Alice Ann is a Coast Guard Veteran living currently at San Juan Villa in Port Townsend. She is a wonderful lady and is loved by virtually everyone. Alice Ann has shared many stories with her family and friends. The following is one from her time as a Spar Class 4 Radioman with the Coast Guard that she shared with her daughter, Phoebe.
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“One day I was communicating with a pilot via Morse code when the situation became a bit hectic. We were conversing back and forth fixing the problem and you have to understand, we were unable to actually talk or see each other. After the issue was resolved the pilot thanked me for my help and complimented me on my work. He then told me how glad he was that it had been a man helping him. ALZHEIMER’S & DEMENTIA ‘Excuse me’, I told him. ‘I happen CARE COMMUNITY to be a woman!’” 112 Castellano Way • Port Townsend • 360 344-3114
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Salvaging potatoes, Kaune rescued three men locked in sinking freighter BY WILLIAM T. KAUNE
My father, Tyler Kaune, was born in 1914 in Everett, Washington. He went to college at the University of Washington and, while there, enrolled in Naval ROTC. He graduated with a degree in transportation and a commission as an officer in the Naval Reserve. In mid-1938, anticipating the war, he volunteered for and spent about six months on active duty as the military liaison to a Civilian Conservation Corps camp in Iowa. While there, he met and married my mother. They returned to the Seattle area and my father worked for several years for Bekins Van Lines. In late 1940 or early 1941, he was called to active duty and was assigned as the executive officer on a net tender, a relatively small naval ship whose job was to lay and tend submarine nets. In mid1941, his ship was sent to Indian Island to put in and maintain the nets across the mouth of Port Townsend Bay. I was born in late August 1940, and moved with my mother and father to Port Townsend. My parents rented a Victorian house at the top of Monroe Street, where we lived for one year. My brother was born in the Port Townsend hospital during this period. In about June 1942, my father was made captain of a new net tender and was sent to New Caledonia in the South Pacific. He spent about five months in the New Caledonia area and then, in about January 1943, was sent to Guadalcanal. The ground war in this area was mostly over by the time he arrived but the Japanese still conducted bombing raids. His ship, being small, was not an attractive target, especially after he found some antiaircraft guns on the beach and installed them on his ship. During one air raid, the Japanese attacked an ammunition ship in the area and managed to put a hole below the waterline of the freighter and set it afire. The
Tyler Kaune (left) spent about five months in the New Caledonia area and then, in about January of 1943, was sent to Guadalcanal. Photo courtesy William T. Kaune
captain of the freighter quickly ordered his crew to abandon ship. My father looked at the ship through binoculars and discovered there was a large pile of sacks of potatoes on its deck. The crew on his ship had not had any vegetables for several months, so he resolved to get the potatoes. He got under way and tied up alongside the burning ship. He and members of his crew boarded the ship and started transferring the potatoes to their ship. While they were doing this, my father looked around the ship and realized that the fire was only from a small amount of burning fuel oil that had been thrown up on the deck during the bombing. He got a water hose out, washed the oil off the deck, and put out the fire. His crew and he then looked around the ship to see if there was anything else they could salvage before it sank. While doing this survey, they heard some banging coming from the door to the engine room. The door had become jammed shut during the bombing. Using cutting torches, they were able to open the door and found three members of the freighter’s crew that had been abandoned in the engine room. Needless to say, those three crew members were very glad to be rescued. They all
left the freighter, which sank a few hours later. My father came off active duty in early 1946. My mother and he started a business in Seattle in 1952, which continues today. In the late 1960s or early 1970s, my father was invited to a reunion of the various crews that served on the freighter that had been sunk at Guadalcanal. My father and mother were in the area at the time of the reunion and so attended. While there, my father was asked to tell the story of the freighter’s sinking and the rescue of three members of the crew. After his talk, a man came up to my father and told him he was one of the three that had been rescued that day. My father never talked about the war until my mother died in 2004. I used to drive to Everett once a week to have lunch with him after my mother’s death and, for reasons that I do not yet fully understand, he started telling me stories of his youth and the war. My father told me the story I have related here without much emotion, but every time I retell it, I get a lump in my throat. He died in June 2008 at the age of 94. ✪ William T. Kaune lives in Kala Point, Jefferson County, Washington.
Robison crossed river on night patrol BY ROBERT ROBISON
I was sent into the Ruhr area. I was positioned near Düsseldorf, Germany, along the Rhine River about 250 miles northeast of Mourmelon. I went on a planned combat patrol with about 118 other soldiers. I knew that I would probably be involved in fighting. I went across that Rhine River under the cover of darkness –behind the enemy lines. I don’t remember ever seeing a darker, darker night than it was that night. Couldn’t see my hand in front of me. It was the 5th of April 1945. To be an element of surprise, they paddled us across in rowboats – they were quiet. We went across close to where a bridge was lying in the river. Supposedly our forces had blown it out. We were across the river and on the delta before the Germans knew we were there. Then, they found out we were there, and they started machine gunning us. They couldn’t see us, but they knew we were there someplace. I can remember seeing those tracers coming down. Wow! What a scary thing. They were just shooting blind. They couldn’t see us, but they knew sounds were coming from down along the river. They probably were anticipating we’d be attempting something like that. Oh! You don’t know what it’s like seeing those tracer bullets coming at you in the dark of night. And, boy, it was so close that the machine gun fire was hitting right at my feet and throwing the dirt up on my face and on my legs. I thought I’d taken a hit in my legs. I had to actually reach down to feel myself to see if I was all there. They had me almost
✪ Spirit of ’45 •
PORT TOWNSEND JEFFERSON COUNTY LEADER
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zeroed in. Oh, it’s a scary thing. I was so scared that I lost control of my bladder. I wet my pants but good. I didn’t cry, but I was pretty upset. Something kept me going though, I don’t know what. But I thought I was a goner that night. Anyone that says they’re facing that kind of a situation and that they can stay calm … Don’t believe it, no way! I was carrying a BAR gun, Browning Automatic Rifle, that night, and it was heavy – nearly 20 pounds plus the ammunition and bipod. They needed some idiot to carry it, and I, apparently, was the idiot that wanted to. I also had two hand grenades fastened to my belt. There were bomb craters on that delta. They were from when our troops bombed the bridge, and a bomb hit off target and left a crater. So I was scrambling around in the darkness and didn’t see a big bomb crater that was there. I fell into that dumb thing. It was a pretty good size – 15 to 20 feet across and about 8 feet deep. And it had three or four feet of water in it. The sides were sloped, and I had a terrible time trying to get out of there. I just kept falling back in as I tried to claw my way out of it. The sides kept crumbling down, crumbling down. I lost both of my hand grenades in that exercise; the crazy things fell off. It’s a wonder one of them didn’t go off. So I didn’t have my hand grenades. But, I tell you, I managed to hang onto that BAR. And I finally got out of that crater and off the delta up onto the riverbank. I proceeded on and advanced up the hill and behind their lines. I was supposed to be in contact with the GIs next to me on my left and on my right. I knew they See ROBISON, Page 15▼
Gane patrolled the coast BY FRED OBEE
Mahlon Gane of Kala Point turned 90 in 2015, and he remembers well the early years leading up to World War II. He was a gangling kid and a piano player. In his native city of Flint, Michigan, he was a member of the local chapter of the Civil Air Patrol and like many youngsters of that age, spent a lot of time assembling models of war planes. He was pretty excited about possibly getting in the U.S. Army Air Corps. When he graduated from high school in 1943, he knew he was ready to enlist. All his friends were in one of the services and he was eager to join them, but he wasn’t sure which branch to join. The recruiters told him they had openings in the Navy where he would be a good fit. “I said, ‘Wait a minute. I don’t like the water.’” As it turned out, the Navy proved to be a hidden asset. I learned a trade as an elec-
Robison
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were there in the distance, but in the black of night, I couldn’t see for nothing. We had little clickers, like the ones that came out of the Cracker Jack box. We were to crack ‘em once or twice as a signal. They had a tinny sound. It was kind of slick, by golly. However, it was next to impossible to communicate with our buddies in the dark. We just lost all kind of contact whatsoever. I finally got close to a little town not far from the riverbank. I was carrying an automatic weapon, and I knew they’d try to take me out first. So I was a target. In other words, I was a prime target. I saw the flashing of gun fire coming toward me out of a second floor window. I thought, “Wow, I’m in trouble.” So I took that BAR gun and aimed it up there. I pulled that trigger “thrapthrap-thrap, thrap-thrap-thrap, thrap-thrap-thrap.” I blazed away at that thing. I don’t know how many rounds. You know, she just takes off and goes pretty fast. It silenced that rifle up in the window. I don’t know to this
Mahlon Gane
tronics technician.” At basic training in San Diego, he put his musical and typing skills to use. He was in the Blue Jackets choir, played the bass drum in the marching band and served the base chaplain by doing typing. By the time he was assigned to a ship, the war was winding down and all the talk was about how we would end the war with Japan. Would there be an invasion? That was the question. day what the outcome was, but it was a case of I get them before they get me. Oh, my goodness. I’ll never know for sure. And I’m glad I don’t know. I just knew then I had to be careful. Oh, I tell you. War is hell. It is. We lost a few guys that night, but most of us came back. One of my buddies, who had just gotten out of the hospital a few days before, didn’t make it. I’m telling you, I thank God I’m here to tell about it. It is another case of my guardian angels watching over me. That was about as bad an experience as I want to go through.
Not every WWII story is about fierce battles. Many, many people were assigned to routine chores and uneventful duty, but all of those efforts combined to help win the war. Gane spent the war’s end patrolling the West Coast on a destroyer escort, guarding against submarine attacks. Gane’s patrol never did engage with the enemy. He did see action during the Korean War, when he was recalled from active reserves. In addition to teaching him many valuable lessons, WWII also brought Gane his wife, Janine Cortell. Janine’s mother was French, and Janine was just 2 and a half when her family fled Europe on a freighter out of Portugal just ahead of Germany’s effort to round up Jews in France. She said she doesn’t remember a thing about the journey, but she knows they landed in New York City in 1941. As it turns out, Gane got over his fear of the water. He became a master sailor of his own sailboats. We were the first military operation of the Americans or Allies to go behind enemy lines in the Ruhr Pocket of the Rhineland Offensive. Some guys got a Silver Star for that night. I believe that if they were going to give medals to some, they should have given them to all of us because we all stuck our necks out as much as anybody else. ✪ Robert Robison is the father of Karen Robison of Port Townsend, Washington. This story is an excerpt from her father’s recollections as a solider in the U.S. Army during World War II.
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Spirit of ’45 •
PORT TOWNSEND & JEFFERSON COUNTY LEADER
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Knudson’s unit were Navy ‘guinea pig’ bombers BY PATRICK J. SULLIVAN
The first “war” story Lyle Knudson wanted to share in a 2010 interview with the Port Townsend & Jefferson County Leader highlighted Fuzzy Fisher, a senior lieutenant and one of three pilots on board a four-engine PBY4 Navy bomber out of Guadalcanal in 1943. Knudson, who lived on Marrowstone Island, Jefferson County, from the 1970s until his death in 2012, was a pilot in the Navy’s first heavy bombardment squadron. Eight-hour flights over the Pacific Ocean were routine, he said, so each aircraft had a can serving as a toilet. Laughing, Knudson recalled how Fuzzy used the can without first putting the paper bag inside; now, he had to clean up the mess. “He tried to throw it out of the waist hatch and he splattered the whole back of the plane. We were laughing so hard, it was terrific.” But wait, there’s more to Knudson’s story. Three flights later, the “pee tube” stopped up on a flight when being used by Lt. Fisher. “We knew that the enlisted men put a plug in the tube just to get Fuzzy.” Knudson was copilot on a reconnaissance patrol when one of the gunners used the intercom to ask, “What’s that blasted stuff beneath the plane?” It was antiaircraft fire from enemy ships. “We were over the top of a Japanese task force about 700 miles from our home base. We were flying just below the scud [clouds] so we pulled into it so they couldn’t see us. We flew in the soup a lot, because that was one way of avoiding the Japanese.” He was copilot on a 700-mile flight to bomb an airfield on Bougainville. “We flew 50 feet above the water for great distances.” Finally at the target, “We pulled it up with the most RPMs we could to climb and then we put her in almost a straight dive, and you’d push your thumb [demonstrating the thumb action on his right hand] dropping 100-pound bombs. We essentially were strafing the field with 100-pound bombs.” Lyle Robert Francis Knudson was born June 11, 1916 in Racine,
Lyle Knudson (back row, fifth from left) with his U.S. Navy bomber crew in 1943. He served 10 months of combat with heavy bombardment squadron VB101, usually flying solo missions out of Guadalcanal. Photos courtesy Knudson family
place” providing “a better chance to stay alive.” Knudson continued training and earned his wings. He married his college sweetheart, Ruth Merkle, from Appleton, Wisconsin, on June 10, 1942, the same day he received his Navy commission. His first duty station was in Hawaii, where he flew a Catalina patrol aircraft far and wide. When the war began, the Navy did not have a long-range patrol bomber. The Army Air Corps provided the four-engine Consolidated B-24, which had a range of 2,500 miles. The Navy modified the aircraft, and Knudson flew in the first Navy heavy bombardment squadron, VB101. “We were the guinea pigs,” Knudson said. “We were the first.” Each plane carried eight enlisted personnel and the three officers. The Navy flew three pilots in a PB4Y-1, with the one not behind the controls serving in the plane’s nose as navigator – which also meant handling one of four machine guns located there. Knudson’s first missions were night flights out of Guadalcanal, the first island that American
troops captured in the war against Imperial Japan. The Japanese did not have radar; instead, they used listening devices. “We found that if we unsynchronized our engines, they could not find us except with search lights.” While Army Air Corps and later, the U.S. Air Force, bomber crews over Europe flew in large formations at high altitude – known targets for enemy fighters and antiaircraft – the Navy crews of VB101 rarely even had one wingman, and they flew “on the deck,” only yards above water or land. Knudson received the Distinguished Flying Cross “for heroism and extraordinary achievement in several flights as copilot of a heavy bomber plane” in the Solomon Islands, January-September 1943. Knudson spent more than 10 months on Guadalcanal, finally relieved by VB102, with their next generation of Navy heavy bombers. The remaining VB101 pilots island-hopped back to Hawaii. Their first day back in Hawaii, it was all about the chow. A slice of ham and a glass of cold milk were heaven. “The second day we started into the booze,” he quipped.
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Lyle Knudson served with the U.S. Navy before, during, and with the reserves, after World War II.
Wisconsin. He was a student at the University of Wisconsin when he volunteered for the Navy in June of 1941, hoping to be a flier. Older than most recruits, Knudson had no prior flying experience, but knew he “didn’t want to be a guy with a gun on my shoulder.” Upon entering naval aviation, Knudson’s goal was to fly amphibious patrol planes, such as the twin-engine PBY Catalina, figuring it would be a “reasonably safe
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Knudson was assigned as training base operations officer at Camp Kearny in Southern California (which later became home to the “Top Gun” jet fighter program and is now Marine Corps Air Station Miramar). In 1945, he was slated for reassignment as a bomber pilot, but the war ended. He spent three years in the Naval reserves and became a lieutenant commander, but after that, never flew a plane again. He went into the construction business, and purchased Marrowstone Island property in 1970, where the couple enjoyed time with their children. He and his wife became Master Gardeners in rhododendrons and fruit trees through Washington State University. He later taught classes on apples at the Center for Urban Horticulture at the University of Washington. “I had a charmed life. That’s the way I think it is,” Knudson said in 2010 while sitting at his kitchen table, eyeglasses in hand. “I’m not a Jesus freak, but I have a feeling that someone was looking out for me.”
➧ Building up
to the war Articles from the Port Townsend Leader show the activity in town in early 1941, with the Washington National Guard and “selectees” joining regular Coast Artillery Corps with stepped-up training. Many other countries were already in World War II, and it seemed the United States’ involvement was inevitable.
Salvo kept people informed ➧ U.S. Army Coast Artillery service at Fort Worden was considered good duty, with the amenities of a base, and a friendly town, at hand. In 1941, a newsletter was begun to represent Fort Worden, Fort Casey and Fort Flagler, reporting on comings and goings, sports and special events. This is the pre-Thanksgiving issue. The Salvo ceased publishing in December 1941, noting that staff was now too busy with World War II.
Join Hadlock Building Supply in saluting our veterans!
Hadlock Building Supply is run by veterans, works for veterans, employs veterans and is proud to support our veterans in many ways:
■ Donations to the Wounded Warrior project ■ Assist with the Veteran Stand Down each year, helping vets see a dentist, get a haircut, etc. ■ Donates backpacks containing essentials to vets who may be homeless ■ Preferential hiring for vets, and a paid day off each year for Veterans’ Day. ■ All vets get an extra 10 percent discount when they shop at HBS.
Owners and workers are proud to have served: ■ Bill Kraut, co-owner with Elena Lovato-Kraut, served in the Navy for four years until 1995. He was a yeoman on a San Diego-based submarine. ■ Brendon Hampton, HBS yard foreman, joined the Marines in 2009. He served for five years, deploying with the Marines Special Forces around the world. He is honored to have served and wants to give by by offering firearms training for the National Guard. Married while in the service, he needed special permission to wear his dress blues at his wedding. “It would have been easier to disappoint my commanding officer than my wife, because she wanted me in uniform!” he said.
■ Heather Bahney, in the Garden store, served in the Army from 2002 to 2005, signing up in the aftermath of 9/11. She was a cargo specialist, loading railcars with munitions, vehicles and supplies. She met her husband in the service. ■ Vivian Shepherd was raised in a military family, the only woman in her family to join so far. She enlisted in the Navy in 1984 and did her first tour until 1988 as a Boatswain. In 1988 she re-enlisted for another three years. Vivian enjoyed the Navy, feeling an equal part of the team and supportive of women. The Navy taught her work ethic, dedication to the task at hand and how to be a good team member.
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Spirit of ’45 •
PORT TOWNSEND & JEFFERSON COUNTY LEADER
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They did not have to serve, yet they did BY PATRICK J. SULLIVAN
They did not have to go to war, yet they did. That message still resonates with me from the World War II service of my parents, Joe Sullivan and Inez Hinrichs, and of my father-in-law, James Riecke. With the world at war, these three people wanted to do their duty for the United States of America, even though none of them were obligated to serve. America’s entry into WWII supercharged a nation still recovering from the Great Depression of the 1930s. Shortly after Japan attacked America, Germany and Italy – the Axis powers – declared war on the United States, which became one of the Allied powers. I have heard a lot of war stories during my career as a newspaper reporter, from a survivor of the Bataan Death March and four years in Japanese prisoner-of-war camps who, in 1984 spoke of it publicly for the first time, to an American paratrooper who was among the first to witness a concentration camp for Jews in Nazi Germany. It proved more difficult to hear “war stories” from the WWII veterans closest to my life: my parents and my father-in-law. The following gives a summary. COOKBOOK AND RIFLE Inez Hinrichs, who spent most of her youth in Minnesota, had been a 4-H extension agent and was a schoolteacher in South Dakota when America entered the war. In 1941, she overcame an automobile accident from which doctors had told her she’d never walk again. In February 1943, Inez enlisted in the U.S. Marine Corps Women’s Reserve. She was sent to Hunter College in New York City as part of the USMC’s second group of female recruits. At boot camp, she earned a rifle marksmanship badge, and her graduation reviewing officer was Madame Chiang Kai-shek of Nationalist China. “I wanted to do my part; we all did,” she told me later in life.
“It’s just how we felt.” The nearest she actually came to the war was carrying a rifle on night guard duty at a time when German submarines were attacking American shipping off the coast not far from her post at Camp Lejeune in North Carolina. That doesn’t mean she, and all the other females in America’s armed services, were not valuable contributors. Inez was a member of the first class of female Marines assigned to cooks and bakers school, where she scored 100 percent on her exams and soon was promoted to sergeant. One of her first assignments was helping adjust the USMC cookbook, vintage 1917, to match 1940s cooking materials and needs. Baking continued to be one of her lifelong specialties. After her honorable discharge in 1945, Inez worked as a teacher in Minnesota and Wisconsin. In 1955, while visiting a friend in Montana, she met Martin J. Sullivan Jr.; they were married that year, and had two sons. Being part of the Marine Corps was always a matter of pride for my mother. She had kept her uniform and many other mementos from her USMC service. People she met in the service became lifelong friends. And being that she had been a sergeant, in her married life she did sometimes pull rank on my father, who had been an Army private first class. Inez died in 2003 after a short illness. She was 85.
Regimental review at the U.S. Marine Corps Reserve training station at Hunter College, the Bronx, New York City, on June 5, 1943. This is the second regiment of female Marines to be prepared for duty during World War II. Photos courtesy Sullivan family
Inez E. Hinrichs was proud to serve in the U.S. Marine Corps Reserves from 1943 to 1945. She helped update baking in the Marine Corps cookbook.
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EYE TEST Martin Joseph “Joe” Sullivan was born and raised in western Montana, in a small town on the edge of the Flathead Indian Reservation. Listening to some of the older Flatheads talking in their native language was his introduction to a skill that would serve him during his military service. Joe was in college from 1940 to 1942, and then became a civilian laborer at Camp Farragut, in north Idaho, which was being made into a Navy training base.
U.S. Army PFC Joe Sullivan with a German Army 75-mm anti-tank gun in Morhange, France, in March 1945. Sullivan cheated to pass the draft board’s eye examination, lest he miss an opportunity to serve.
He knew the military selective service would eventually call his number. He also knew that his poor eyesight – he had worn eyeglasses since being a schoolboy – would exempt him from military service. Drafted by the
Spirit of ’45 •
Army in May 1943, he reported for examination at the Federal Building in Butte, Montana, along with other draftees. While waiting in line, Joe memorized the eye chart through glass partitions, and when his turn came
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inside the exam area, he passed the test. That particular story is one told to me in 1985, the 40th anniversary of the war’s end, when I was pressing him for more specifics of his Army life. As his son, I had always known he had poor eyesight, and finally I asked him how he made it into the Army and eventually, into the combat zone. “I shouldn’t have been there in the first place, but I didn’t want to go back to Dixon and be 4-F, so I cheated on the eye test,” he said. After boot camp, my father’s knack for foreign languages got him selected for the Army Specialist Training Program (ASTP), a program that gleaned some soldiers from the ranks for specialist service. He was sent to study foreign language at the University of Nebraska. But in 1944 as America’s battlefield casualties – even before the D-Day invasion of Normandy that June – began to mount, the ASTP students were assigned to the infantry. The 44th Infantry Division’s three regiments were mostly formed from New York and New Jersey National Guard units assembled and then sent to Fort Lewis, Washington, to help defend the West Coast from possible Japanese attack. Political pressure in New York arose to get the 44th division into combat. Trainloads of soldiers were transContinues on page 19▼
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ferred in from other units – including Joe Sullivan from the ASTP – and even troops from the Air Corps, which figured it already had enough pilots. After six months of training, Joe shipped overseas in early September 1944 as a private in the weapons platoon Fox Company, 2nd Battalion, 71st Regiment, 44th Division. The 44th was the first division to go directly to France (instead of staging in England or Ireland), offloading in Cherbourg. The harbor was still a wreck, so the troops went down a gangplank to a wooden raft and then into landing craft. Joe carried ammunition bags for a 60-mm mortar squad, which meant he was near the front lines through the wicked winter of 1944-45. Later in life, he was never fond of Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas,” which was popular on Allied radio that season, because it reminded him of being in a foxhole with frozen feet. One of the few combat-related stories he ever told was how he had to hold on to the belt of the soldier in front of him during nighttime movements. “I could not see at night and not see much in the day. I was not really good combat infantry material.” As children, my brother and I enjoyed going through our father’s Army footlocker. He had a collection of memorabilia, from practice grenades, mortar shell carrying tubes, boxes of C and K rations, and some German Army items (flags, pins, even a helmet) that he said he had “liberated” during the war. We also saw the
Purple Heart medal – given to personnel who were wounded in a combat zone – with its golden profile of George Washington. But it was not until that family conversation in 1985 that my father told me how he had been wounded. As I pressed him for the story, my mother sat silently next to him in their living room, for she, too, had never been told such details. Over the years, I’ve found that veterans who were most often in combat were least likely to talk about combat, instead sharing other types of military stories. My father was advancing with his mortar squad in early January 1945 when he was wounded in the head by shrapnel from an artillery round – he joked that he was hit by a frozen dirt clod. In February, he was transferred to a military police battalion, which a general ordered be formed with people from each division within the 7th Army. His foreign language skills had come into play again. “Mostly, I talked to civilians, bartering our GI coffee for fresh eggs and milk,” he once quipped. He was stationed in Germany until September 1945, when he was shipped home. He was discharged in early 1946 as a private first class, with a Purple Heart and a Combat Infantry Badge. He returned home to Montana, continued his studies and eventually went to work for a lumber company in Thompson Falls, Montana. He met and married Inez Hinrichs in 1955. Throughout his years, he remained proud of his Army service, often loaning his uniforms and artifacts to his local museum
or schools when it came time for a Veterans Day ceremony. Joe Sullivan died in 2011, after a short illness, at age 87. ARMY VOLUNTEER James Melvin Riecke was born and raised in Baltimore, Maryland. Big for his age, at age 15 (1936) he went to work as a riveter in the Baltimore shipyards. When America entered World War II, he was exempt from military service for two reasons: He had a job considered essential to the war effort, and he was sole provider for his mother. “There was a war on, and I didn’t want to stay home,” James told me once. “They tried to get me in the Navy, but I wanted to be on dry land. So I joined the Army.” He enlisted in 1942, and served in the field artillery with the 102nd Division in Europe in 1944-45. He rose to the rank of sergeant, and received two Bronze Stars and the Purple Heart. James did not talk much about his combat duty. He told stories about having leave in Paris, the struggle to move howitzers through the mud, fixing communication wire and about the cold winter of 1944-45. On a few occasions, he spoke to family members about being captured during the Battle of the Bulge, and then of his escape. He mentioned to me that he had used a flamethrower once in battle. “That was a horrible thing, for what it did to people. I threw it down and said I’d never use it again.” After World War II, James wanted to stay in the Army and asked to “be sent someplace qui-
James Riecke on the rear of a German tank that had been knocked out during the Allied army’s advance across France in 1944. Riecke served with the U.S. Army in Europe in 1944-45, and was stationed at Fort Worden, Port Townsend, in 1946. Photo courtesy Riecke family
et,” so in 1946, Sgt. Riecke was shipped to Fort Worden in Port Townsend. He was one of about 26 military personnel at the fort at the time. That year, he met Dorothy Johnson, a native of Quilcene, Washington, and they married on Feb. 3, 1947. James left the Army in 1949 and got a job in Port Townsend, where he lived the rest of his life and raised four daughters (including my wife, Marilou). Nightmares were an unfortunate part of his post-Army life, which he and his family attributed to things he saw and experienced during the war. While he was a motion picture fan and watched movies about WWII, he did not like to watch movies about the Battle of the Bulge, because he said it stirred up too many unpleasant memories. A proud member of the Veterans of Foreign Wars (VFW), James participated in many Veterans Day and Memorial Day services. He received state VFW recognition for his sale of “Buddy Poppies” to benefit a relief
fund for Jefferson County veterans, and to aid disabled veterans. One of his best experiences while wearing his blue VFW jacket came in 2004 when, accompanied by Marilou Sullivan, he visited war memorials in and around Washington, D.C., including the WWII monument and Arlington National Cemetery. “Everywhere we went, people saluted him and thanked him for his service,” Marilou said. “He was so pleased and proud, that late in life, that people were still appreciative of World War II veterans.” James Riecke died in 2007 in Port Townsend. He was 85. On this 70th anniversary of the end of WWII, it is fitting that we remember all who served, overseas and on the home front. I thanked my parents and my father-in-law many times for their service, and I do so here, one more time. ✪ Patrick J. Sullivan is editor of the Port Townsend & Jefferson County Leader.
HONOR THE LEGACY OF THE MEN & WOMEN WHO SERVED!
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© Photo by Richard Elzey
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KEEP THE
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ANNIVERSARY 8.14.1945 - 8.14.2015
ALIVE! COURAGE • SHARED SACRIFICE • SERVICE TO OTHERS
Spirit of ’45 •
PORT TOWNSEND & JEFFERSON COUNTY LEADER
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KIWANIS CLUB MEMBER OF
PORT TOWNSEND HONORS THE GREATEST GENERATION OF
Ed Zinser
Veterans keep in touch with the home front.
US ARMY AIR CORP April 1945–February 1947
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Thank You Ed, for your service.
Jerry Davis
Enlisted U.S.N. 12-8-41 in Los Angeles. Served until 1945.
Jerry says, “Pick up a Subway sandwich from my son’s store!”
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Salutes our World War II Veterans! We’re Still Serving!
SERVING OUR VETERANS ★ Two Certified Veteran Service Officers to assist with VA claims Gary Lane, Bob Lakey: 360-731-6398 ★ Veteran’s Assistance Fund for local Vets ★ Honor Guard for Veteran’s Funerals and Memorials ★ Distribute Flags at Veteran’s Gravesites ★ “Home Port” of Military and Merchant Marines ★ Special Memorial Day and Veteran’s Day programs ★ Camaraderie of fellow Vets in a relaxing lounge & bar
SERVING OUR COMMUNITY ★ Annual Scholarship Fund for local students ★ Support of local youth sports programs ★ Sponsor local youth in Boys and Girls State programs ★ Support of the new Boy Scout cabin ★ Host of the local Winter Homeless Shelter ★ Team sponsor in the local Relay for Life “Walk for the Cure” ★ Venue for many community events.
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