The Saga of Joe Burt

William O. Foss, who was Chief Yeoman in the USS FOOTE (DD-511), recalled this story to me 16-years ago. I had heard some details of the incident from people who were involved, but not in this detail and by the main author of the event. I will tell the story as “Willie” Foss told it to me. The Executive Officer on the FOOTE at the time was Lieutenant Max S. Schmidling, USN, a mustang from Minisink Hills, PA. He was a very capable, tough officer, but fair. Here is the story as remembered by Willie:

I liked Max. When I was up for advancement from Second Class to First Class Yeoman, he called me up to his stateroom and said, “Foss, I don’t know whether to make you First Class Yeoman or bust you to Third Class.” “Sir?”, I replied, looking puzzled at the grinning Exec. Then he said, “I know all about the Joe Burt charade.”

The Joe Burt story is about the sailor who wasn’t. If you haven’t heard it or don’t recall it, I’ll try to recap some of the unsavory facts. There are a lot of players in the story, including an Engineering Officer whose name I have forgotten; there were cohorts Frank Forte, Hub Finger, John Gallagher, Gene Schnaubelt, Bill Stone and other shady shipmates I can’t remember.

The FOOTE was in Boston and the Executive Officer, Lt. Max Schmidling, told Chief Yeoman Joe Agnes that the crew would get three days leave - port and starboard sections - and since the Shore Patrol would not accept liberty cards for three day passes, the Yeoman force had to write leave papers for all hands (Approximately 300 sailors). Chief Agnes decided that he was in the first section, so he wrote his own leave papers, had the Exec. sign them and told me I was in charge - then he left the ship. Well, it was a mad scramble. We got the leave papers made out, signed by the Exec. and took them to the O.O.D. (Officer of the Day) and crew members picked them up on the Quarter Deck and beat it ashore post haste.

By supper time most of the first section had gone ashore; those who remained fed their faces first or was still waiting for me to turn out their leave papers. The ship’s office, as you recall, was a regular hang-out for all sorts of characters - few of them Yeomen. Among those lolling around were the Fire Controlmen from across the passageway. I made the brilliant statement that the Exec. Was signing anything I put in front of him without looking at the document. We could give him phony leave papers and he would sign his approval.

Hear! Hear! Instant approval came from the fun lovers and egged on by their enthusiasm, I like the fool I was, set in motion the necessary paperwork. We came up with the name Joe Burt - made him a Fireman First Class - assigned him to the proper division - used a leave address at some shady Main Street number in Norfolk, VA - made up a service record with phony finger prints (real, but from ten different fingers from ten different FOOTE sailors), and so on and so on-----

I placed the bogus leave papers amongst other legitimate leave papers to be signed by the Exec. and sure enough, he signed everything and wished me a nice evening. Phew! Back at the Yeoman’s office, glee exploded from my cohorts. The O.O.D. called out the names on the Quarter Deck and somehow, Joe Burt got his leave papers and left the ship a happy sailor.

Now comes flashbacks - - as the third day of the leave was up, we received a telegram from Burt asking for an extension of his leave. The Exec. told me to grant the extension and I concocted the necessary papers, which he signed and I promptly put in the “burn basket”.

By the way, the Engineering Officer who was in on the charade, accounted for Burt being on leave at every muster. He knew, of course, that Burt was the sailor that wasn’t.

Ship routine goes on. The leave period is over and the ship sails for training off the chilly coast of Maine. As always, some sailors are AWOL (Absent Without Official Leave) - Burt was one of them.

It was so cold and the seas so rough off the coast of Maine it was impossible to have any meaningful training exercises for this green as grass crew - saltwater spray covered the ship in ice. Rough weather caused us to leave some sailors ashore on liberty in Casco Bay unable to get back to the ship heading south for gunnery practice and other training out of warmer Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. Stranded sailors in Maine are told to hitch a ride on anything headed for Guantanamo.

At morning muster Chiefs dutifully list absentees - Burt among them.

When ships began bringing FOOTE stragglers back to the old (DD-511), our beloved Burt is not among them. After being absent for 30-days, Burt is declared a deserter and an Official Deserter Warrant is issued. I prepare the proper documents, the Exec. signs them and I place them in the “burn basket” for destruction, making sure office copies remain on file. I am sweating as I realize how foolish I was - this thing is getting out of control. All sort of things began to run through my mind - falsifying Navy records, Naval prison Portsmouth, etc.

Life goes on - fade to my original mention of Joe Burt.

I did get my promotion, but always felt I was living dangerously. Well, what do you know? One day, many months later, somewhere in the Pacific, now Lieutenant Commander Schmidling shows up in the ship’s office, grinning from ear to ear. He said, “Well, Foss, your friend Joe Burt finally showed up.” Then he shows me an edition of TIME magazine that contained a short item about Lieutenant Junior Grade Joe Burt. Our bogus sailor had come alive and was a real Naval aviator, having shot down a number of Jap planes (My mind was racing - I don’t recall the details - I’m in shock). All I can think is I’m glad I put that Arrest Warrant in the “burn basket”.

Maybe at the next FOOTE reunion you can check some of the other “sources” and get their version of the Joe Burt saga. Looking back, it was a lot of fun.

Written by Wilbur V. Rogers as recounted in 1992 by William O. Foss, Chief Yeoman, USS FOOTE (DD-511).