Sea Stories
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SEMAPHORE DRILL
by Dave Brouchoud
USS Helena CA-75, RD2, OI Division, 1952 - 1955
The letter "B"
Time dims the memory. I no longer recall the rank of the Officer in the story below or the Petty Officer's Grade. Not sure the Duty Officer was a LT.
But I sure remember the incident.
Boot Camp for me was not all that hard. I did have a problem with remembering the semaphore drill. We used the old Phonetic alphabet—able, baker charlie, dog etc. Now it is Alpha, Bravo, Charlie and Delta etc.
One night while on barracks fire watch, around 2 AM. I was standing at the corner of where the hall became our barracks area, practicing semaphore. The letter “B” requires you to hold your left hand straight down and parallel with your legs and your right had straight out to the right of your body. In real life, you are holding the semaphore flags—I was not. Each letter/movement was to be sharp and snappy. At the exact moment I snapped my right hand to the right for the letter “B”, I smacked the Assistant duty Officer in the nose. Seems he and a Petty Officer would try to sneak up on guards to see if they were doing their job OR sleeping. After I struck him, he started to scream and say “You hit an Officer”. Soon all the lights came on. He kept screaming and his nose was bleeding too. I was placed under arrest and had to go with him to the Duty Officers Office. A Navy LT was in charge and asked me to tell him why I hit this Officer. Needless to say, I was terrified. I could see myself on bread and water, in the brig and perhaps getting kicked out of the Navy. As me story came out, the LT started to laugh.
Soon he told the Jr. Officer that the Navy was lucky to have a young sailor dedicated to learning semaphore and that it was an unfortunate accident and that I should go back to my barracks. For the next few days, I was the laughing boy around our company area---and also, sort of a hero. Never did learn all the letters of semaphore. But when tested, I still passed. Never used it again. I wonder if the Navy uses it today.
THE CHOW RUNNER
by Dave Brouchoud
USS Helena CA-75, RD2, OI Division, 1952 - 1955
In the fall of 1951, I started Boot Camp at Great Lakes, Illinois. As the weather turned cold, I was assigned the extra duty as Company 831 "Chow Runner".
The chow runner would leave his company area about 20 minutes before chow time and report to the mess hall. He would stand just inside the door to watch as the last few guys entered and then run back to his company area to report it was time to fall out.
This was done so as to minimize the time guys would have to stand outside, in the cold, waiting in line to eat. The chow runner would be the last man from his company to eat. This to insure everyone made it okay to chow.
I enjoyed this little extra bit of freedom to be able to move outside by myself. No one checked on me as there was not that much to check on.
One day some of the other company chow runners approached me and wanted to know when and where did I eat my meals. With my company, at the end of the line, as I was instructed. You dummy" one of them said! With many mess halls in the area, one can choose where to eat. Although the menu was the same for all mess halls, the word went out early as to which was the best place to eat. All I had to do was leave my company area a little earlier and join my new found friends as we ate the best.
This worked well for a time as long as I managed to conduct my duties as prescribed. But then my big mouth got me into real trouble. I started to brag a little to whom I thought were my closest company friends. I told them about the great deal I had. Well now. Someone over heard or squealed on me. I was called before my Company Commander, Chief Walker, who gave me 15 demerits punishment and took away my job as Chow Runner. In front of the company I might add!!
To the non Navy types or the uninitiated, 5 demerits equals 1 hour of pushing rifle on your own time. This meant I had to report to the drill hall each night for three nights and "Push Rifle". I seem to recall we only had one break after a half hour. Push a rifle for 30 minutes without a break? I was sure my arms would fall off. What was worse-when I came back to my company area, I had to put up with harassment from my friends.
So, what is pushing a rifle? The following has been copied from my BLUEJACKETS' Manual copyright 1950, Chapter 20, page 303. Subject: Physical Drill with Arms.
Diagonal lunges. To exercise the muscles of the arms, back, and legs.
Command: 1. DIAGONAL LUNGES, 2. ONE, 3. TWO, 4. THREE, 5. FOUR.
ONE-From ready, lunge about 36 inches diagonally to the right with the right foot, at the same time pushing the piece out horizontally.
The left foot should be flat and the eyes directed to the piece.
TWO-Back to the ready, chest out, elbows back.
THREE-Lunge to the left with left foot, as in ONE above.
FOUR-- Back to ready
At the beginning of the chapter, it says: All movements in this section are in four counts and, with the exception of COME TO READY, are performed four times. It does not say with the exception of Company punishment! The movements described above take about 5 seconds to complete.
Oh yes, it was a time to remember.
Of course, I earned it!
A sailor was caught as he tried to sneak aboard his ship
at about 0300.
A chief petty officer spied him and ordered the sailor to stop.
Upon hearing the sailor's lame explanation for his tardiness,
the chief ordered, "Take this broom and sweep every link
on this anchor chain by morning, or it's the brig for you!"
The sailor picked up the broom and commenced performing
his charge. As he began to sweep, a tern landed on the broom handle.
The sailor yelled at the bird to leave, but it didn't. The lad
picked the tern off the broom handle and gave the bird a toss.
The bird left, only to return and light once again on the broom
handle. The sailor went through the same routine again,
with the same result. He couldn't get any cleaning done;
he could only sweep at the chain once or twice
before the blasted bird returned.
When morning came, so did the chief, to check up on
his wayward sailor.
"What have you been doing all night? This chain is no
cleaner than when you started! What have you to say for yourself,
sailor?" barked the chief.
"Honest, chief," came the reply, "I tossed a tern all night and
couldn't sweep a link!"
Helicopter incident.
We had had been tied up to the dock briefly when the helicopter and maintenance crew lifted off to go to the base for maintenance. The helicopter was well loaded with the crew and possessions.
After lifting off the helicopter moved just off the port side and slowly settled into the water. The engine sounded ok but apparently did not have enough power. After landed in the water the helicopter turned on it's side and all easily escaped before the craft sunk.
A barge was brought along side and a diver attached a cable to the helicopter. Either our crane or one on the barge soon had the helicopter on the barge and was taken away.
We had a helicopter on board when we left port but assume it was a different helicopter.
Submitted by Jim Whisnant, ET1, USS Helena CA-75. 1954 - 1956.
Story donated by J.G.Saltalamacchia III.
Salty's Dad was J.G.Saltalamacchia Jr. ("Salty"), CPO Ret.
He served on the USS Helena CA-75 75 from 7/48-8/51 as a ME1 in R Division and was also a ship's diver.
One day my Dad and mom were camping with the motor home on one of Camp Pendleton's campgrounds.
At the time my Dad was completely retired, 20 years in the Navy and 20 years in the shipyard.
He was collecting on a 40 year retainer. He and I were out by the fire pit and my Dad was wearing his ball cap with "US Navy" on it.
So, here strolls this guy, looks at my Dad's hat and says "Navy, how long were you in for?" My Dad tells him 20 years.
This blowhard sticks out his chest and says "I was in the Coast Guard for 30 years!"
Here we are, my Dad and I are chatting and minding our own business and this guy comes up and is bothering us.
So my Dad says, "In 1944, I was thinking of joining the Coast Guard, but I couldn't fit the height requirement, so I joined the Navy."
This guy gives my Dad a strange look and says "What height requirement?" My Dad tells him, "Back then you had to be over 6 feet tall, so just in case your ship sank you could walk back to the shore."
This guy's face just dropped and he tried to tell my Dad of all the "blue water" he's sailed on, but he left my Dad alone the rest of trip.
From the Helena Newsletter dtd OCTOBER 2002
By Shipmate W. M. THOMPSON. CA-75, "O" Division, RM1, 1953 - 1954
The CA 75 was moored at either Southhampton or Edinbergh; anyway we were hosting a visitor's day. Everything was going nicely until someone asked what that building was for. We were near the port side garbage grinder. So an officer nearby began to explain what it's function was and began opening latches to gain entry. As soon as a couple of latches were opened, they began to close. As soon as he would get more opened, they would close. It became rather funny watching him try to keep the latch handles in the open position with his hands and feet while trying to open more of them. Finally he called for assistance and several hands nearby each grabbed a handle holding it in the open position. Inside was a young lass and a sailor both with clothing messed up. Seems they decided the garbage grinder area was a good place to put their parts together. The sailor was hauled off and the lass was escorted off the ship.
And another:
We were moored at Port Said, Egypt. It was a hot muggy afternoon and standing on the fantail someone said lets go for a swim. I went down below and donned my swimsuit. Pulling up my dungarees and went back topside. I was standing alongside the kingfisher crane watching a couple of guys dive off and swim. I debated about joining them but a 2nd class BM came running up to me yelling "are you swimming?." I said, "no sir." Then he nabbed these others climbing up the rear ladder and hauled them off. I never did know what their fate was.
He adds another:
A memory of going thru the Indian Ocean. We had left Columbo, Ceylon after eating too much fresh pineapple. The swells were glassy smooth. The CA 75 was headed east at about 20 knots. The shellbacks were looking forward to the equator crossing. Well that never happened as we were diverted north to Tsingtao Harbor. A few of us with nothing to do were enjoying the smooth ocean while on the bow. Off in the distance we saw this little object. Fairly soon we could determine that we were on a collision course with a Chinese junk. No one aboard the junk seemed to be concerned until we were close enough to make out the crew aboard. All at once they decided some action should be taken and began yelling and scrambling about in frantic animation to alter their course. That was quite a feat due to almost no wind. Anyhow, just in time they avoided the steel cutting edge slicing thru the water. I am sure that the junk rubbed the side of the CA 75.
From Shipmate Wesley C. Shangraw. CA-75, "OR" Division, RM3, 1954 - 1956.
I joined the Naval Reserves in Watertown, New York as a SR (seaman recruit). I transferred to a unit in New Jersey when I entered college and took the SA exam (seaman apprentice).
Following summer returning to Upstate New York, I requested active duty to pay for future college years. Requesting to be drafted was possible in those days. I did this with a couple of others in my Reserve Unit.
My orders came and directed me to go to Brooklyn Naval Yard for duty. The fellow I volunteered with was sent directly to Bainbridge, MD to boot camp. I asked why wasn't I going with them? The reply was: "Shangraw, you are a full seaman, and you do not have to go to boot camp, the others are just lowly SA's." "Oh" I said, "that's right, what was I thinking?"
Of course, I knew a big mistake had been made, but never did figure it out until I was discharged when all my paperwork was given to me. It showed that some yeoman in New Jersey where I took that SA exam, made a typo, instead of promotion to SA, he had typed SN.
One single stroke to the typewriter avoided boot camp, provided more money and a sailor who could not tie a knot or know whom to salute! My laid back approach to authority made many think I was "an old salt", or just weird. I showed up on the USS Roanoke with my pj's and wash cloth. I certainly did not want anyone to see me nude!
From the Helena Newsletter dtd OCTOBER 2001
By Shipmate Curtis E. Etchen. CA75, "6th" Division, GM2, 1948 - 1950
I wonder how many of our shipmates can remember the cruise we made on the CA75 to the far east in 1948 and 1949 where we made many ports of call in the Philippines, Japan and China? We spent the winter in China where we made several ports of calls. I was in the sixth division during this time as a BM3 and BM2. I remember that we cut the Japanese fishing boat in half in the China Sea that winter. It was quite a cruise with many experiencing things happening during the cruise. I left the ship that spring to go to Pensacola for flight training and will always remember that cruise. I spent the rest of my 32 years in the Navy as a navy pilot but will always remember the good old days on the cruiser.
BRASS HIJINKS
By Commander Kenneth H. Ruecker, USN (Ret)
In the early days (1950) of the Korean “police action.” The fleet was without the Service Force, necessitating returning to Sasebo, Japan to fuel, rearm, and reprovision. The only fuel barge did not have high capacity pumps and the smoking lamp was out more than 48 hours except in a steaming fire room. On one such “pit stop”, an Australian destroyer, HMAS Bataan, the Tangtse River gunboat HMAS Ladybird and USS Bataan (CVL-29) were in port.
During WWII in the Mediterranean, a British destroyer wardroom officer requested and received an autographed photograph of swimming movie star, Ester Williams. The Brit officers were known to imbibe in strong drink. A custom developed in which other ships' officers would steal the photo from the wardroom.
I was standing the mid-watch on the signal bridge of the USS Helena (CA-75), and was instructed to keep a constant watch on the Aussie destroyer. I'd heard earlier in the day that our Admiral had returned the courtesy call of HMAS Bataan's C.O. As he (the U.S. Admiral) left, he grabbed the Ester Williams photo and ran to his barge, whose coxswain had been instructed to shove off at high speed immediately as he jumped aboard.
We had fire hoses with full pressure at the nozzle in order to repel attempts by the Aussies to forcefully board. I'd reported to the OOD that a boat had left the HMAS Bataan, but had disappeared under our bow. As the boat reappeared our Supply Officer called for permission to come aboard, which was denied since the OOD was instructed that no boat from the Aussie was to come along side. However, the boat did come alongside the lower platform of the accommodation ladder.
A big red-bearded Lieutenant started up the ladder. The Boatswain's Mate and the Messenger opened up with high pressure hose. The stream struck the officer on the head, the shoulder and chest. He still fought his way up the ladder! Our Exec, Comdr, James Odgers (later Vice Admiral) having heard the commotion came on deck without a shirt. The BM dropped the hose, and he and the Exec wrestled the Aussie to the deck. The Captain, George C. Towner (later Vice Admiral) came on deck and told the combatants No closed fists! During this time the fire hose was spewing several inches of water between the Exec's cabin and the quad 40 mm mount.
While this was going on, I heard a sound on the forward side of the signal bridge. I grabbed a plastic pneumatic tube and went forward. There, was a thoroughly soaked Aussie Ensign. Not knowing what to expect, I yelled at him, “What the hell are you doing here? He replied Don't hit me, Yank! He told me he'd gotten off onto the mooring buoy, scrambled up the chain, went to the first level, climbed up to the top of Mount 51 and then on to the signal bridge.
Meantime, things had settled down on the quarterdeck. I'd hustled the sopping wet Ensign down to the main deck. The Exec's undershirt was completely torn off except for the narrow band around his neck. The fire hose was finally off. I told the OOD to send the boat coxswain up to the signal bridge for a hot coffee. He told me the story of the Ester Williams photo. Our Supply officer was permitted to come back aboard.
`The rules of this game were that the American Admiral had “legally obtained the photo, and that the C.O. of the HMAS Bataan, the last possessor of the photo, on behalf of Her Majesty's Royal Navy would enclose an official document certifying to that fact.
Commander Ruecker was a Quartermaster First Class aboard the USS Helena (CA-75) during this incident.
From the Helena Newsletter dtd Summer 1998
SAM PATE, "R" DIVISION, CA-75, 1949-1953 WROTE IN AND
SAYS
" I'D LIKE TO TELL YOU ABOUT ONE CRAZY LIBERTY IN YOKOSUKA.
I WAS OFF ON THE BEACH WITH A SAILOR NAMED YANASKA, A WEIGHT LIFTER AND GOOD NATURED GUY WHO FLUNKED OUT OF PRIEST SCHOOL.
WE HAD RENTED A RICKSHAW AND DRIVER TO STAY WITH US WHILE WE VISITED SEVERAL BARS. YANASKA FELT SORRY FOR OUR RICKSHAW DRIVER WHEN RETURNING AND INSISTED THAT THE DRIVER GET IN BACK WITH ME.
IT DIDN'T MAKE A DIFFERENCE. YANASKA WAS GOING TO PULL THAT RICKSHAW AND NO USE ARGUING WITH HIM...
WELL, IF YOU GUYS REMEMBER IN BETWEEN THOSE LITTLE HILLS AND MOUNTAINS YOU HAD THESE LITTLE COBBLE STONE ROADS AND SMALL DITCHES ON THE SIDE TO CONTROL WATER COMING DOWN THE HILL.... PRETTY PRIMITIVE, BUT IT WORKED HOWEVER IT WASN'T RICKSHAW PROOF FOR HERE WE GO DOWN THE HILL, FASTER AND FASTER WITH ME AND THAT RICKSHAW DRIVER HOLLERING AND THEN YANASKA STUMBLES AND FALLS.
THE RICKSHAW STRADDLES YANASKA AND THE TWO OF US RIDING GET THROWN OVER A TWO OR THREE FOOT ROCK WALL AND
FENCE AFTER IMPACT WRECKING THE RICHSHAW. THE TWO OF US WENT RIGHT THROUGH THE WALL OF A HOUSE AND SKIDDED UP TO THE DINNER TABLE WHERE A FAMILY WAS SEATED ON THE FLOOR EATING AND WE SCATTERED THEM ALL.
WE ALL WENT DOWN TO THE POLICE STATION AND MADE ARRANGEMENTS FOR THE DAMAGES TO BE PAID, FOR THE HOUSE AS WELL AS CLAIMS FROM THE RICKSHAW DRIVER.
IT WAS SEVERAL MONTHS BEFORE I GOT OFF RESTRICTION AND HAVING MY PAY DOCKED"..
EDITOR'S NOTE:.... SAM HAS MORE EXPERIENCES TO RELATE AND I'LL KEEP PRINTING THEM.
OLD SEA STORIES
Ninety Day Wonder
Two stories provided by Lee M Coffman ETPO3
USS Helena CA-75. 8/54 to 2/56
During my first Far East Cruise aboard the Helena in October of 1954 I was assigned to the OE division (the ET gang). I had just graduated from Naval electronics school at Treasure Island in San Francisco, California and I had high hopes of becoming an electronics "whiz" aboard a US Navy warship, well it didn't start out that way. During the first month on board, still only an ETSN, I was assigned to mess duty, what a way to deflate a guy's ego!
After that I went to work with my normal occupation I was trained for, an electronics technician. Of course I had to prove my abilities so at first I was given a lot of "grunt" details, one of these was to service and maintain the ship's radar antennas.
The first time I was given this detail I didn't know what I was supposed to do, so ET1 Schmidt said he would show me how to perform the job. Schmidt took me to the radar transmitter room and asked permission from the officer in charge to shut down the main surface search radar transmitter for maintenance, permission was granted and the transmitter was shut down. Then Schmidt "red-tagged" the power switch so that operators of the equipment would know that we were working on the equipment and not to turn it on.
We then made our way to the base of the mainmast which was on the 03 deck about 20 feet above the main deck amidships, the mast was about 100 feet high with the surface search antenna right at the top on a platform. We started up the ladder attached to the front of the mast carrying our tools, grease gun and other items to do the job attached to our belts.
Helena's Radar Antennas
If there is anyplace on the ship to get sea sick that was it, but luckily I didn't. It was scary climbing up that ladder with no safety belt and the mast moving 10-15 feet back and forth, but what a terrific view! We got to the platform and Schmidt showed me how to lubricate, check for tight connections and other maintenance tasks.
We were done and Schmidt said Well done Coffman, you're about the only guy I've brought up here that hasn't lost his lunch". We were just starting down the ladder with myself in the lead when the radar antenna started rotating! Schmidt yelled " Coffman, get down fast!" I could tell he was boiling mad because he was cussing all the way down.
I followed him as he ran down to the radar transmitter room and we went to the transmitter that he had red-tagged, it was turned on. Schmidt yelled at the top of his voice “What (bleep-bleep) idiot turned this on? Can't you (bleep-bleep) idiots see that it is red-tagged?" An Ensign, that had just recently come on board, was standing near by said “I did, I'm sorry; I didn't know what the red tag meant. Schmidt was still mad as hell and shouted in the Ensign's face “You could have fried both of us up on the antenna!" The Ensign just stood there with a sheepish look on his face. Then as Schmidt and I left the radar transmitter room he turned to me with a big grin on his face and said (Bleep-bleep) ninety day wonders!"
In the US navy an Ensign is the lowest rank for a commissioned officer, they are typically green recruits just out of OCS (Officer Candidate School). They are considered by the crew as being notoriously in-ept and are always sticking their nose into things where they don't belong. The crew derisively refers to them as "ninety day wonders".
In October of 1954 I was on my first WESPAC cruise aboard the USS Helena after being assigned to the ship in August of the same year. The ship sailed from Long Beach and made port at Pearl Harbor. After a few days in port and some excellent liberty time in Honolulu, it was announced that a change of command ceremony would be held two days hence, Vice Admiral Alfred M. Pride Commander 7th Fleet, WESPAC, would be making the Helena his flag ship while he was making the Far East tour.
For two days the crew was busy cleaning, painting, polishing brass and holy-stoning the wooden decks in preparation for the Admiral's inspection. The ship's helicopter, which normally occupied the fantail area was moved way over to the aft starboard rail in order to make room for the crew that would be standing there during the change of command ceremony.
The big day arrived and the Admiral boarded the ship and made a hurried inspection his new command. Then all the crew was ordered to assemble on the fantail for the ceremony, uniform of the day was dress blues. The Captain gave a speech welcoming the Admiral aboard. Then the Admiral got up to make a speech and at that same time another ship passed by our berth and created a wake. The waves began to make our ship roll, and all of a sudden the helicopter began to tilt and there was a loud crack and splash as the helicopter fell right into the drink!
Of course, the whole crew turned to look and there was a lot of talking in the ranks. Then Captain Frank M. Adamson grabbed the microphone and barked "The crew will remain at attention until dismissed". We all snapped to attention and the ceremony proceeded with the address by the Admiral and then we were finally dismissed. Man, what an unforgettable impression that must have made on the Admiral, and I'm sure somebody really got their butt royally chewed out by the old man!
Gooney Birds
In February 1956 I was on the way back to the states from Tokyo, Japan to be mustered out at Treasure Island, San Francisco. The plane I was on was a MATS Lockheed Constellation, a sleek four engine prop plane that was state of the art at that time. It had a capacity of over 200 passengers and it was filled with military personnel returning to the states. The plane landed at Midway Island at 1700 (5pm) for refueling and all the passengers were served dinner in the mess hall. Midway Island isn't very large, only about two miles long and one mile wide. It was a US Marine airfield during WWII and played in an important turning point in that war. The mighty Japanese Navy was soundly defeated here in June, 1942 and it was the beginning of the eventual push to defeat the Japanese Forces throughout the South Pacific. Another notable thing about Midway Island is the “Gooney Birds”, there are thousands of them roosting on the island. The Gooney bird is a type of Albatross sea bird that is quite graceful in flight but when it lands or takes off, it has to be the most awkward bird in the world. When a Gooney is trying to take flight it runs along the ground for a long distance and nine out of ten tries it will crash and tumble head over heels, then it will shake itself all over and try again until it is finally airborne. The same thing happens upon landing, a tumbling crash, it is hilarious to watch.
Lee Coffman August 1, 2004
Regulus
In the spring of 1955 the USS Helena was put into dry dock for refurbishing. Later the crew was to find out that a new weapons system had been installed. In September the ship put to sea again for sea trials of the new systems. Speed runs were conducted and two days of gunnery practice off of San Clemente Island. Then on September 8th the crew finally got to see what had been hidden under tarps on the fantail of the ship. It was a launch facility for the new Regulus guided missile, with the missile mounted on it. It was classified as a military secret and no one except the launch crew was allowed to go near it, nor were we allowed to take pictures or discuss anything about it when off the ship. There was a special handling and launch crew for the missile and guards were at the missile launcher 24 hours.
The morning of September 9th was to be the first launch of a guided missile from a US warship in history. The crew was told that they could observe the launch, but would have to position themselves no closer than the aft superstructure, which was about 150 feet from the launcher. Several of my shipmates and I climbed high up on the aft superstructure and we had a good, clear view of the launch. We waited over an hour while all the launch systems were readied. Then the crew was advised over the ships loudspeakers that the launch would occur in five minutes. When the last 10 seconds of the countdown came it was announced,”10, 9, 8, 7,6,5,4,3,2,1, launch”. When the missile was launched off the starboard side of the fantail there was a deafening roar and swoosh from the JATO units attached to the aft section of the missile and there was a huge cloud of white smoke that totally covered the fantail of the ship. The JATO (Jet Assisted Take Off) units were used to bring the missile up to speed, 200 to 300 mph, so the rocket engine would kick in for long distance flight. Unfortunately the rocket motor failed to ignite and the missile spiraled into the drink about a mile away from the ship.
About a week later the crew witnessed the same lengthy count down procedure all over again. The destination for the missile was a floating target 30 miles to the west of the ship. We could clearly see the missile on top of a white column of smoke headed upward at an angle in a westward direction. After twenty minutes had passed it was announced that the missile had crashed into the ocean only 50 feet from the target, which was considered a hit and the launch was a great success. A great cheer went up from the whole crew.
Lee Coffman August 1, 2004
A Short Story by Jim Garner
After boot camp and radio school in San Diego, I was assigned to the USS Helena CL-50 in June or July 1941 as a radio striker. After the Japs torpedoed us at Pearl Harbor, we limped back to Mare Island where almost all the crew was transferred elsewhere. I was transfered to the Armed Guard out of Brooklyn, N.Y. I was assigned to the Sea Train Texas, a freighter, as a radio operator. After several convoy trips I requested a transfer to electronics school. After graduating from electronics school I put a new destroyer, U.S.S. Chevalier DD 805 into service. We did duty in the pacific until the war ended. Then I was assigned to Great Lakes advanced electronics school as an instructor. I was discharged as a Chief Electronics Technician in late 1946.
A Short Story by MM1C EUGENE E. LAJEUNESSE
USS Helena CL-50 1941 to 7/43.
I served on Helena from May 1941 till she went down on July 6, 1943.
Was on third deck repair out side #1 engine room when she split in two right at that compartment after the third fish hit. It was my sections turn for third deck repair that night. We had three sections and we rotated duty in the engine room for GQ. It was a one in three chance of not getting torpedo duty.