A New Captain

On March 30th we are steaming from Subic Bay south to Leyte Gulf escorting the Amphibious Force Flagship, USS ROCKY MOUNT (AGC-3). We are patrolling approximately 2,500-yards ahead of the ROCKY MOUNT in the Sulu Sea off Mindoro. The crew had just secured from morning G.Q. and all hands had finished breakfast and relieved the 8-12 watch when we made a submarine contact on the port bow. Nothing friendly in the area.. It was one of the best contacts we have ever made - the time was 0843 - G,Q, was sounded and the Captain took the conn and we approached the contact at 15-knots - John Young, SoM2/c, was on the sound gear. K-Guns and fantail racks were on stand-by. The echo was clear, sharp with a slightly high doppler (sound frequency), target angle was 070-degrees and the submarine’s movement is to the right at 4-knots, depth 200-300 feet. The Captain ordered a 20-degree lead and at 0850.5 we laid a medium pattern of eleven 600-lb. charges, depth set 250-300 feet and come right. Regained contact on the starboard bow at 1,600-yards - low doppler (sound frequency low). The submarine is now bearing 228-degrees true - still moving right. The crew’s adrenaline is really pumping. Weather is slightly overcast, light breeze, visibility 15-miles, sea is calm and water is 190-fathoms deep (1,140-ft.). The Captain ordered a 10-degree lead and we laid a second pattern of eleven 600-lb. charges set at 400-450 feet - the submarine appeared to be going deeper. The. aft K-Gun on the starboard side did not fire due to personnel failure. We dropped one day and one night marker. and came right in a slow circle - contact lost - no surface results observed. The Captain begin “operation observant” - searched for one hour and five minutes.

The Soundman seldom gets a chance to be the center of the attack, but this had been John’s chance - he performed his job flawlessly - what went wring?

The FOOTE was relieved by the USS HOLTON (DE-703) at 1005 and ordered to rejoin the ROCKY MOUNT at high speed and assume our previous screening station. The official record stated that the “operation observant” phase of the submarine attack was improperly conducted because it did not center on the last known position of contact. We lost it - wottadil!!!! The crew feels like they have been cheated.

At 0949 on March 31st we entered San Pedro Bay, Leyte and tied up alongside the USS WHITNEY (AD-4) (Destroyer Tender) for about 30-minutes tender duty. Wonder if they can spare the time.

The Radio Shack says something big is coming off up north at Okinawa. Not only is it April Fool’s Day, but it is also Easter Sunday. But, to the men at Okinawa in “Operation Iceberg” the day is April 1, 1945 - ironically designated “Love Day”. At 0830 the troops began to land on the designated six-mile stretch of Hagushi foreshore at Okinawa. There was virtually no opposition. By nightfall the advance guards had seized Yontam and Kadena airfields. About 50,000 Soldiers and Marines are ashore. “Love Day” has been practically bloodless - so far. This is far too close to the Jap homeland for it not to be a bloodbath - I fear the worst is yet to come. Leyte Gulf is a good place to be at this time in our history.

Liberty - and the pursuit of happiness - as much as two cans of very green beer and a little soft ball will provide. Everyone is sort of on probation after the last shore party at Lingayen Gulf. The recreation spot for sailors in this area is on Samar, just across the channel from Tacloban. It is a very pretty place - thatched huts occupy a palm grove and the Sea Bees have made a very good soft-ball field. There is also a pretty fair beach for swimming. It’s good to get off the ship for a few hours. At the end of the day the last boat back to the ship was full and all hands were accounted for .

On April 3rd, after considerable exchange of messages and much delay - we finally weigh anchor and stand out for Manus, Admiralty Island at 1330 with a convoy of three LSTs (Landing Ship Tanks). We got some new men aboard today - maybe that was the delay in getting underway. Anyway, we will have some nice chubby Pollywogs (Never crossed the equator) to badger when we cross the Equator on the way to Manus. The lid has been put on “Operation Iceberg” at Okinawa. I suspect things have turned sour - information has dried up completely.

We are cruising along at the LST’s best speed (About 8-knots) on zig-zag course “plan six”, with normal ship routine. A surface target is reported at 0932 on the 4th and we go to G.Q. All Battle Stations are “manned and ready” in one minute and twelve seconds - not bad. The surface target could easily be identified by the naked eye as one of our tankers. Man - what is going on with our bridge watch? The convoy course is generally southeast and all the ship’s crew is following normal daily routine.

When the days orders come out on April 6th , the Captain invokes “water hours” - whattadil!!!! - all the tanks are full - evaporators limping along - no problems. The Captain can’t stand for the crew to approach any measure of normalcy. All hands are grumbling about “water hours” - no reason for it. The officers don’t have “water hours”. Morale is going to hell - “water hours” discontinued. Proves our point.

All the sadistic sailors are getting ready to cross the Equator tomorrow (April 9th). The preparation and anticipation is probably worse on the Pollywogs than the actual initiation into the Solemn Mysteries of The Ancient Order of the Deep.

On the 9th the crew was mustered at quarters - the orders of the day were read. Almost like stateside. We held steering casualty drill at 0923. We crossed the Equator at Longitude 145-degrees 3-minutes East and with only three lonesome Pollywogs - they have an easy time of it.

We delivered our wards to the S.O.P.A. in Manus harbor at 1500 and took our assigned anchorage. The FOOTE is granted 72-hours at anchor availability, not to interfere with scheduled sailing. A fuel lighter came alongside and topped off our tanks. Now, we will really turn to on repairs and maintenance. A very young Lieutenant Commander Harry W. McElwain came aboard on April 11th and seems to be interested in just about everything. I know we have been working non-stop to get the ship in first class shape for something. This effort has been more intense than usual. The Radio Shack just received word that President Roosevelt has died. What a shocker.

We get underway on April 14th at 0015 en route to Morotai - almost due west. We are in company with HMAS WESTRALIA, LST-585, LST-711 and LST -590 - same three LSTs we brought down from Leyte Gulf plus the Australian ship. .

We had an uneventful passage from Manus to Morotai with the convoy averaging about 8.5-knots. Five days at slow sailing with plenty time for steering casualty drill, damage control drills, gunnery exercises on surface targets and engineering exercises. We approach the harbor at Morotai at 0817 on April 19th. This is a very beautiful group of islands - what you expect the south seas to look like - several little islands dot the bay and the larger islands are all blue hazy in the distance. Some are rugged and high enough to be cloud-studded. At 0912 the ships in the convoy were ordered to proceed independently into the harbor. Lying to in Berth #19 awaiting fueling orders. At 1135 the FOOTE is directed to lay alongside the USS BANSHEE (IX-178) for fuel. Fueling was completed at 1405 and we moved to Berth #9 and laid out 75-fathoms of chain to the starboard anchor in 15-fathoms of water. At 1515 the crew was mustered on the fantail and Lieutenant Commander Harry W. McElwain (82,347), USN relieved Commander Alston Ramsay (61,510), USN as Commanding Officer in accordance with BuPers Dispatch Orders 212233. Not much of a ceremony - Lt. Commander McElwain read his orders and said to Commander Ramsay, “I relieve you, sir.” That was it. The new Captain sure looks young.

April 20th is the first full day of FOOTE command for the new young skipper. Word has it he is only 28-years old. Hope they didn’t pull him green. All divisions are still working hard - getting this old tub ready for something. The Fire Controlmen are making a complete Main Battery alignment.

Nothing can stay confidential or secret on a destroyer very long, so here is the background of our new Captain. He takes command of the FOOTE after four years destroyer duty during which he worked on every part of a tin-can but the gurgle in the lamp locker. He was commissioned from the Naval Academy in 1939 and saw his first duty immediately in the USS COLORADO (BB-45) where he served in the snipe section, then as junior Ginnery Officer in charge of the 5-inch battery. True to the old cliché, you can’t keep a good man down, after a year of wagon duty, he went to the USS FANNING (DD-385) and started his career in the tin-can navy. When the “Day of Infamy” came, he was aboard the FANNING as First Lieutenant and Torpedo Officer. In March 1942, he was made Engineering Officer and one year later became Executive Officer. From the FANNING, our young Captain went to new construction and served the USS ROWE (DD-564) at her commissioning, fitting out and sea trials. He served a year on the ROWE, which is also a Fletcher Class Destroyer, before receiving orders to report aboard as our Commanding Officer. He is married and has one young son back in Montana. Sounds like he has good credentials.

A considerable quantity of mail catches up with us on April 21st. It is very interesting to see the eager way sailors respond to “mail call” - the way those who get letters treasure them and retreat into their private world to read them - greedily. It is sad to see the hurt that darkens the faces of the men who received none. Certainly, this is evidence of the vital importance of mail to the crew of a Destroyer far from home in war time. It is a Naval axiom that morale depends on “pay, liberty and chow”. I think mail from home should be added to this list and given equal status.

The harbor at Morotai is full of gray ships and rumors of our next assignment are rampant. We are only three degrees above the equator and it is humidly hot - the air is too thick to breath and too thin to drink, but the heat is somewhat relieved several times a day by lukewarm, drenching showers. Evening G.Q. is actually pleasant - at least for the men with topside battle stations because of the spreading, flaming, glorious sunsets that covers half the sky with shades from scarlet to violet that are so vivid and yet so delicate. Makes the thought of war obscene.

G.Q. is sounded right in the middle of a topside movie - and as usual - I.F.F. (Identification, Friendly or Foe) problems. When they turned on the search lights from the beach, they had that plane nailed - no searching around - you could see him plain as day. It was reassuring to see the lights reach up and tag a plane like that - can you imagine how it made the plane’s crew feel.

Our orders are changed at the last minute. The anchor detail is set and with the First Lieutenant and the Chief Boson Mate on the fo’c’sle the 30-minutes it takes to retrieve 75-fathoms of anchor chain and anchor begins. Every link is hosed down, overside, before it comes aboard - the Chief Boson sees to that. We move ahead slowly until the anchor clears the water and then the O.O.D. (Officer Of the Deck) gives the order “all ahead one third - indicate turns for 10-knots.

Right standard rudder, check her on course 010-degrees true”. At 1615 we are underway. By the time we cleared the harbor the word was out - by SEVENTH Fleet secret dispatch 210743 we are ordered back to Leyte to reform the “Little Beaver” Squadron. We will be back running with the pack and those back home who worry about us may have just cause now.

On the 24th we are steaming en route Morotai to Leyte and went to morning G.Q. at 0520. At 0700 the men of the forenoon watch went down to breakfast, passing along the chow-line with their shining, compartmented stainless steel trays while the mess cooks ladled or forked onto them dehydrated eggs, fried spam and toast. A few took dry cereal and braved the weevils and powdered milk - and, the ever plentiful coffee. At 0730 the word was passed, “Now on deck the second section. Relieve the watch. First section, lay down to the mess deck for breakfast.” At exactly 0800, the X.O. (Executive Officer) presented the Captain with the eight o’clock position report, a small white printed slip with the latitude and longitude of the ship’s position. All morning there were drills – fire, engineering casualties, steering casualties, abandon ship, man overboard and muster the boarding party. Guess our new Captain wants to see what kind of crew he got.

Evening meal was served at 1715 so men on the second dogwatch (1800-2000) could eat before going on deck and those with the first dogwatch (1600-1800) could relieve them in the chow line - the watch was then relieved for chow before evening G.Q. One half hour after sunset the X.O. repeated his navigational ritual on the bridge - shooting the evening stars now that, once again, both horizon and stars are visible. So goes it with steaming in transit on a Destroyer in relatively safe waters.

On April 25th we are steaming as before and word filters down to the crew that our new Captain is not at all unhappy with what he saw of the crew’s performance in the drills yesterday. We are steaming along on two boilers with two on standby. The sea is smooth with gentle swells from the southwest and the wind is from the same quarter at force one. There is a new moon, but it gives very little light and the night is dark and overcast, although stars occasionally can be glimpsed through the broken spots in the low cloud cover. Intermittent light rain squalls are picked up on the radar dancing around the area and there is enough heat lightening playing about to silhouette the ship for an uncomfortable instant now and then. All in all, not a bad passage.

At 1400 on April 26th we arrive in Leyte - this place looks a lot different than when we left here twenty three days ago. The place is lousy with ships - Task Forces - Fleet Carriers - Destroyers galore - Limey - Aussie - and all types of cargo vessels - you name it and it’s here. We are the first “Little Beaver” to arrive, but I expect the others are on their way.

There will be no more camouflage paint job for the FOOTE. We will paint her the new “Measure-22” scheme which is haze gray down to the darker blue-gray that starts at the main deck on the fantail and extends the length of the ship parallel to the water-line, up to the bow. This goes down to the “boot-top”. All hands - except the cooks and mess cooks, who will keep the crew fed, are suppose to turn-to. In a two day tour de force the ship is to be painted - what a sticky mess. It’s amazing how some of the crew tried to avoid the paint detail - and, some did. Without a doubt, the American sailor is the most innovative individual in the world. It would have required one officer for ever sailor to guarantee 100% turn-to. The movie on the fantail tonight is “To Have and Have Not” with Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall, but most everyone is too tired to go.

The second day of the “big paint job” and all hands are informed that it will be completed by sunset. The line at “sick call” was about three times as long as normal. “Doc” Allen just passes out APC (All Purpose Compound) tablets and declares them fit for duty - it’s back to the paint brushes for those slackers. You wanted to avoid the “over the side” crew if possible and the more ingenious sailors were able to do just that - so, it was mostly the deck crew who worked the boards out over the water. Chief Boson Leser was having a field day, walking the decks and generally being obnoxious to everyone. A great deal of time was spent by all hands suggesting very innovative methods to arrange his demise. Ever ship needs someone to despise and on the FOOTE George Edward Leser, CBM, was our man. He is completely devoid of character, principle, honor, integrity and had a loud foul mouth - just what you need in a Chief Boats.

There was a race between the sun and the paint job and the paint job won by a nose. Maybe not the best job in the world, but it looked great a hundred yards away. There was one shirt and one dungaree ruined with paint for most members of the crew - but, I expect they will be worn anyway - you can consider that your camouflage uniform.

On April 29th we realize that President Franklin D. Roosevelt has been dead 16-days today. For most of the FOOTE crew he is the only President they can remember. It is as though a close relative has died - a strong and supportive uncle, maybe. Truman is an unknown quantity - sure hope he makes all the right decisions.

Some horrifying news came from the Radio Shack today. A Jap kamikaze plane has crashed into the superstructure of the hospital ship USS COMFORT (AH-6). She was fully lighted, painted snow white with huge red crosses in accordance with the Geneva Convention - no chance it was a mistake. According to the report, the Jap demolished the ship’s surgery where operations were in progress - killing all hands there, including seven patients, six nurses and four doctors, for a total of thirty killed and forty-eight wounded. Gives you an idea of what we are up against.
Word circulates that a couple more “Little Beavers” arrived today - don’t know who yet.

It’s April 30th - 0545 - “Now Reveille! Reveille! Up all hands! Mess cooks - lay down to the galley!” We will go to sea today for firing practice - one final check of everything. The anchor cleared at 0730 and we set course southeast past Suluan Island to the designated firing range southeast of Samar, Philippine Islands. The morning is clear and the underway breeze is very pleasant. When we arrive at the practice area a SBD (Dauntless Target Sleeve Tow Plane). Was on the radio and advised he would be over us in 20-minutes with a target sleeve. Our course was reported to the target plane and he advised he would make his first pass from the bow down the port side - range approximately 5,000-yards. G.Q. was sounded and Battle Stations were manned - today, only the 5-inch guns would fire. It was down the port side and up the starboard side for about two hours. The bursts were consistently all over the sleeve and the Captain was well pleased with the performance. With the repeated concussion form the firing of the 5-inch for almost two hours the top-side crew was glad when we departed the area and headed for the anchorage in San Pedro Bay back in Leyte Gulf. We arrived at Berth #40 at 0410 and laid out 65-fathoms of chain to the port anchor in 10-fathoms of water. The port readiness watch was set and the movie screen rigged on the fantail - we have a new movie tonight - “Going My Way” with Bing Crosby and Barry Fitzgearld.

May Day (May 1st) and it’s liberty for the First Section. The recreation area will be the same one we used about a month ago before going to Manus and Morotai. Not a bad place to have a couple of beers and play a little softball. There is an underlying poignancy to these softball games in which all the unique ambience of the American ball park is temporarily recreated on a remote spot in a far away island - the chatter of the team in the field, the heckling of the team at bat, the arguments about rules, the yelling at the umpire, the slides in the dust and the final triumph or defeat. . And, finally, the players, tired, dirty and hot, abandon the softball field and return to the long gray ship swinging on the hook in the anchorage. At 1710 the USS BRAINE (DD-630) arrived in port and moored alongside to port with standard mooring lines.

It’s May 2nd and the Second Section will have liberty today - two beers, a little softball and some trading with the locals. Rumor has it that we will alternate days in port with time at sea on the firing range until all the “Little Beavers” arrive and get themselves dressed out in the new “Measaure-22” paint job - if they don’t already have it. I think everyone agrees on where we will go when we leave the Philippines - Okinawa!!

(USS FOOTE Deck Log and USS FOOTE War Diary and Gene Schnaubelt)