Goin’ Home

3-12-16

Frank Studenski:       March 6, 1945       After 16 months of continuous duty we weighed anchor and headed out of the lagoon streaming a 700 foot homeward bound pennant.   The pennant is so long it is held up by balloons.   Our first stop will be Pearl Harbor.

George Pitts:     March 6, 1945     Anchored in Ulithi, Boston is still receiving all kinds of “well done’s” and “have a good leave’s”     Tomorrow the Boston gets underway again   –   only this time we are headed where every man in the service would love to be – “United States” and not another of our operations, which makes every man wonder what’s going to happen this time.   Not no more for this Boston   –   she’s deserved this overhaul more than once.   In fact, there isn’t a ship in the Pacific Fleet with the kind of duty she head without going to Pearl Harbor.   So look out Frisco, here we come.

March 7, 1945   HOMEWARD BOUND   The Boston got underway today with her Homeward Bound pennant flying 800 feet in the air.   Six inches per man is what the pennant is supposed to represent.   While leaving Ulithi, all the carriers, cruisers, batts, and destroyers bid us a “bon voyage”   The San Diego called us by flag hoist “Cr6r9Desig USO” (haha)   – sure got a thrill out of that.   The crew is really happy today, knowing we are heading for the U.S.A.

goin home

A watershed moment

3-8-16

Just before Christmas of 2005, nine months or so after my father died, I went with my Mom, Bill, and his family to Hawaii for a couple weeks.   On a day when Bill and his crew were off doing something, my mother and I flew to Oahu from Maui.   Four years earlier, on a similar trip, my father, who served aboard the Boston and saw more of Pearl Harbor than he cared to remember, refused to go.   My ex, Jacquie, lobbied hard to go to Pearl Harbor, but he would have none of it.   Ever the middle child and would-be peacemaker, I sided with my father and we didn’t go.

When my mother and I got to Pearl Harbor, we went directly to the visitor’s center.   They only allow a certain amount of people in at one time, so you end up with an admission ticket with a time stamped on it.   As it turned out, we had to wait an hour and fifteen minutes.   Not to worry – there is a waiting area close by, complete with plenty of places to get a coffee, buy some pearls, or shop for souvenirs.   We went to a cafe place and ordered coffee and a snack and sat at a table.   The whole area was flooded with piped-in Big Band and Swing music, exactly as it would have been in the early 40’s.

At the time this happened, I had already begun writing A Bird’s Eye View, but had never told her.   We sipped coffee and all of a sudden, tears started rolling down her cheeks.   I asked her what was wrong.   She confessed that the music had transported her back to her youth, and she tearfully remembered how hard it was during the war for a teenage girl like her – back home while boys she knew were getting killed, while her brother was off in the Navy somewhere (he was on a destroyer in the Pacific), how her father cried at the thought he would lose his oldest son, how all of a sudden things were rationed, and things that young girls needed – nylons and make-up and such disappeared from the shelves . . . and then they couldn’t get coffee or milk or meat or even bread sometimes because all that stuff was going to feed the boys . . . .

Those few minutes with my mother were transformative.   Our “relationship” was shaky at best   –   (I’m being kind.)   I spent my entire youth plotting ways to get as far away from her as I could . . . .   But right then and there, in her moment of vulnerability, and because I was working on my first book about the Boston, she suddenly had . . . context!     She was drawing a picture for me of the War, and my father’s role in it, that I had never thought of before then.  

Our visit to Pearl Harbor was immensely helpful to her:   Watching the footage of the Attack, listening to the music, visiting the sunken Arizona   –   all those things resonated deeply with her.   It helped her understand, a little, what it was like for my dad and all the other sailors in the Pacific.   It also helped me, the kid whose father was pretty tough on, understand a little what it was like to be part of the action in the Pacific.   And it helped me understand my mother a little better . . . and it helped me be a part of her everyday life until the morning of March 8, 2015.

Mom overlooking the Arizona, Dec. 2005 Lu Kelly,  6-1-24 to 3-8-15
Mom overlooking the Arizona, Dec. 2005
Lu Kelly, 6-1-24 to 3-8-15

steve

Good news on March 2, 1945

3-3-16

Frank Studenski:     March 2, 1945:   This morning we fueled from tankers, we are heading back to Ulithi. Tonight we finally got the word we are going back to the states.   We have been waiting and dreaming for a long time.

George Pitts:       March 3, 1945:

3-3

(ignore the discrepancies in the dates of these 2 entries.   Bear in mind that it was illegal to keep a diary, so entries were not necessarily done on the date listed – perhaps some days later when they got a chance to write . . . )

CA-69 cast off it’s lines and left Boston Harbor for the last time on November 14, 1943.   Except for some light duty and leave time in Pearl Harbor and a few stretches in lagoon anchorages, the men had not been off the ship and out of combat for 15 1/2 months when they got the word they were going back to the states.   They reached San Pedro (Los Angeles) on March 25th, and the men got 21 day leaves and a plane ride or a train ride home while the ship underwent extensive repairs and radar upgrades.

While all this happened for the crew of the Boston, the battle for Okinawa raged on.   We’ll take a look or two at that soon.

steve

 

 

 

Last words on Iwo Jima

2-27-16

From Feb. 23 through the 27th, the ships focused on launching carrier plane bombing strikes on Tokyo and the surrounding areas, where much of Japan’s airplane industries were centered.   The goal was to continue to lessen Japan’s abilities to move planes and launch airstrikes against what was to be our last invasion of Japanese defensive territory prior to the Surrender.     I am talking, of course, about Okinawa, which for the sailors aboard the ships of Task Force 58 (totaling around 100,000, BTW), began on March 1, 1945.

I digress.   It was my intention months ago to harvest the hours of interview tapes I have (backup drives) of Julian Goldstein, Bob Knight, Pat Fedele, Frank Studenski, George Pitts and John Farkas (original crewmembers.) [I also have many hours of interview with Norm Bayley, who boarded the ship late in the war and was the Commanding Officer of the Marine Detachment. (Norm turned 98 this past October)]   I wanted to post a couple of audio files in which Pat and George (whose stations aboard the ship gave them amazing “visuals” of the action) give a summary of their memories of Iwo Jima.   Alas, that did not happen   –   I did not find the time or the energy for that endeavor . . . .   So, I guess you’ll have to settle for reading . . .

From Baked Beans, Vol 2:

When we bombarded Saipan, Tinian, Iwo Jima . . . my ship was, for the lack of a better term, really alive   –   we were in motion.   The ship was firing like crazy to make cover for the Marines that were landing.   Actually, I never realized how much hell those fellows went through until I saw the PBS series about the Pacific.   The segment on Saipan and Tinian caused me to remember; really brought back memories and I never realized at that time the hell those guys went through . . . except for the fact that aboard the ship we had an intercom system hooked up to the landing ships and we could hear everything that was going on, especially in the Fire Control Rooms.   We couldn’t see it of course – no television, but we could hear those guys having one hell of an experience.   It was very . . . very . . . well, it was an experience you just could not forget.         Julian Goldstein

We supported the landing.   They were firing rockets at us.   Our gooney bird was up there.   He was telling us where to point the guns and we took care of that problem.   On the second day, maybe the third day, I’m looking up at the hilltop through the binoculars.   I could see the group of guys up there and I saw them put up the flag, which turned out to be the wrong flag. Later they put up a bigger flag – the one we now all know about   – the famous one that became the statue.   I saw that too.

The poor Marines.   When they landed out of the transport rigs, you could see them getting fired on from pillboxes everywhere.   A couple of brave Marines who had tanks on their backs crawled up. I watched them. They opened up and you could see big flames shooting out – then I saw guys running out from the holes all roasted and on fire.   That’s the only way they could stop those guys – they were holding up the landing.

What entered my mind during all this was the year before, on July 4th, we bombarded the hell out of Iwo Jima.   We didn’t see any pillboxes.   In a year’s time, they built everuything up   –   new airfield, all kinds of tunnels, etc,etc.   –   while the war was going on. They say that the walls and tunnels were a couple of feet thick.   How they formed them and built them – I’ll never know.         Pat Fedele

We weren’t there when they were landing, but we got there while they were all fighting, though.   We were parked   –   we weren’t anchored, so we could get out of there in a hurry.   We were about two miles off the island. Both our 8 inch and 5 inch – for two days we did nothing but fire those things.   We had certain targets.   That place was loaded with caves – they had a whole city underneath that island   –   all tunnels.   In some of the huge caves they had their weaponry.   We received six salvos that landed close to the ship.   That no sooner happened than our main battery went off and there were no more salvos. They knew where it came from and knocked it right out.

We kept banging away at the certain targets we were supposed to do. We kept at it all day long.   At night, we’d stop firing and we’d cruise back and forth. I wish there was some way I could explain what it looked like at night.   Both armies were fighting each other and you saw nothing but thousands and thousands of streaks of yellow – those were the tracer bullets going back and forth.   On our ship we had a big telescopic sight that we used to read our signal flags. I was using that to scan the island.   I saw a tank – I believe it was ours – a tank that would hold maybe two men – a small one.   I saw that thing pop up into the air, do a big spiral, and come down and crash.   It must have run over a mine.

The planes   – what a sight that was!   We were all mesmerized.   The dive bombers and the fighter planes.   The fighter planes had belly tanks for extra gas.   The dive bombers would go up over Mt. Suribachi and drop their bombs.   They’d explode, of course, and fire would all go down the side of the mountain.   But when the fighters went up, they’d drop their belly tanks.   What an explosion those things made as far as flames go.   They’d have the whole side of the mountain in flames.   And the planes are going back and forth constantly.   I don’t know how anyone could live through that.

We spent two days there and fired all our 8 inch and5 inch until we ran out of ammunition.   At one point, the 40 millimeters opend up, but I don’t know why.   Maybe some small boats were trying to get out of there. That was quite a mission.   But Iwo Jima was only wht, 300 or 500 miles from Japan – a very important place.They could stock it with planes and ammunition no sweat.   They died like hell trying to hold onto that place.   We lost – what – 5,000 men?   A small little island like that.       George Pitts

 

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More Iwo

2-24-16

From George Pitt’s diary:

George2

Is this not amazing?

We’re not quite done with Iwo Jima yet . . .