Sea Stories...You Gotta Love ‘em

Where There's Smoke There's Fire
Crossing the Equator
Water Hammer
A Union Man
Fish Story
Sandwiches Anyone?
Irish Beef
Food For Thought
Christmas Choo Choo Hunt
Steamin'
Cinderella Liberty
The Night the Safeties Lifted
Scrambled Eggs
Green Storm
Pedicab Liberty
Keelung Liberty

Crossing the Equator

I do remember the 1964 Crossing the Line experience. It certainly was memorable. As I recall, the ship crossed as we were enroute from Guam to New Guinea. You shellbacks had been plotting and storing up supplies for some time. We polywogs were not sure what the future held in store, but stories and tradition told us to be ready for anything.

Ah yes, the end of the garbage chute. Somehow, I managed to come to the end of the chute three times: the first two times all of you shellbacks at the end thought it would be a good idea if I went through the line again. So, I received privileged treatment and got to crawl back to the start once more. By the third time I felt pretty much at home in there with all of the slop and what else was sloshing around...not to mention the bodies that didn't have the advantage of having gone through before. Actually, life in the chute wasn't too bad as the impact of the shileleighs was absorbed by the heavy canvas. That doesn't mean I wasn't aware you all were out there pounding away.

Maybe I received this honor, because I seemed to have promoted and participated in some of the rebellious polywog activities before Davy Jones (and eventually King Neptune) visited the ship. I've managed to be involved with many activities through the years, but the raid on the shellback meeting in the helo hangar stands out in my memory as a truly great accomplishment. Let me bore you with the details that my memory has retained.

Nearly all of the shellbacks (certainly the leadership) was in the hangar one afternoon, a couple of days out of Guam and a couple of days before the actual ceremony, coordinating the oppression you had in mind for us polywogs. Of course, we couldn't resist the opportunity to strike preemptively.

While you were meeting, several of us also met below decks and laid out our own plans for you. Fortunately, I could cause a few things to happen that contributed to the raid. After we strategically placed our raiders around the hangar, we secured all power to the hangar  - great idea: not only could you not see anything since you had closed the hangar door for secrecy but you had no ventilation. So, you started to roast and pant.

Naturally, the doors (both the one in the front of the hangar and the curtain at the rear) ultimately opened and out streamed the blinking, sweating, bedraggled shellbacks. We were waiting with firehoses, most with applicators, just a few with straight nozzles. Our firehose parties were all over - on top of Mount 53 (a most secure and strategic location), at all departure points from the helo deck, on top of the hangar itself, and at important locations on the torpedo deck in front of the hangar.

For several minutes, the shellbacks tried to overcome this power, but in time back you went into the hangar - choosing darkness and heated air over being soaked and battered. Of course, we were pleased - but not content. So, we carried the attack further. Somehow we managed to get the bottom of the hangar door open a foot or so, a feat that may be in the same class as the Army Rangers scaling the cliffs at Normandy.

This allowed us to spray directly into the hangar - just enough to force the shellbacks closest to the door back so we could toss ignited smoke cannisters into the hangar and allow the hangar door to settle back to the closed position. After a while, out came the shellbacks in wonderful clouds of green and red smoke to be greeted by the firehoses once again. After a few minutes, that was that. The polywogs had made a point...and I seem to have promoted for myself the privilege of touring the maindeck and the garbage chute several times.

Back to the actual ceremony: once the polywogs cleared the end of the garbage chute we crawled, slid, and otherwise crabbed to our meeting with the Royal Court. Bynum, the BT, was the Royal Baby. He had a concoction smeared on his belly that I can still taste. Of course, when it came my turn to kiss his belly, I grabbed his sides and immersed my head in the stuff giving him a deep and thorough polywog kiss of admiration. I staggered away from that, completed blinded, and was guided to the swimming pool with tender loving care. Gunner Jamison was the royal lifeguard. He obviously thought I was thirsty as he kept trying to get me to drink the pool dry. All the time, he kept asking me what I was. Of course, I was a polywog and let him know. After giving that answer 3 or 4 times, my thirst was quenched and my mind started working again. It dawned on me  that he wanted another answer.So, I said the magic sentence that I was a shellback. That took care of that.

I know that having become a shellback in the way that we did in DeHaven in 1964 was important. It was a rich and educational experience, thanks to all you shellbacks and to my fellow polywogs.

LT Roy Wallace 62-66

Water Hammer

As a 17 year old Fireman Apprentice, fresh from Bremen, Ohio in 1958, I was well prepared for the standard follies such as 50' of Chowline, Bucket of Relative Bearing Grease, etc...However, I was not prepared for BT1/c C.O.Williams on board USS DeHaven DD-727g. As a boot camp messenger of the watch in the No. 1 fireroom (remember there are 4 engineering spaces 1 & 2 firerooms and 1 & 2 engine rooms) when Williams (Willie) asked me to go get a water hammer from the No. 1 engineroom. Well I wasn't prepared to go for this, but he convinced me that in civilian life they used air hammers because of the abundance of fresh air and power. At sea, we had plenty of water, so a water hammer was used instead of a air hammer. In my 17 year old mind, I was convinced that he was telling me the truth.

So off I went, up the starboard hatch across amidships passageway and forward to the inboard hatch to the No.1 engineroom. I can't remember the Petty Officers from that hole, but they of course had been told by Willie, that I was coming to get the water hammer. Well it seems that they had loaned it to the crew of the after fireroom. So I went back there and I think Sidney Magoon BT1/c was the Top Watch. He gave me some static of how the hammer had really been a big help to him and his crew. Howard Singletary, a busted FN agreed with him and the more realistic this hammer became.

Finally they confessed that they had loaned it to the snipes of the No.2 engine room. So back aft I went. There Roy Batts MM2/c told me that in fact that they had borrowed the water hammer from the snipes in the after fireroom. However they had finished the job and had returned it to the Chief Engineer, (Jerry Mead, LT(jg), I think or Bob Griffin).

Remember, this happened on the 20-2400 watch. So not wanting to get Willie angry at me for not returning with the water hammer, I went looking for the Chief Engineer. He was in one of the staterooms aft on the main deck. This was prior to FRAM. It was after taps and sure enough he was asleep, but ask me in and listened to my story of how hard I had been searching for the water hammer. He agreed that it was an important tool and a very expensive tool. He could not turn it over to a fireman apprentice. I was instructed to go back to the hole and have Willie come to his stateroom for the water hammer. Only a First Class Petty Officer could be entrusted with it. I did, and of course that was the last time I was ever ask to chase a navy tale (including the snipe hunt). Willie really got verbalized for wasting everyone's time and efforts. Especially Mr. Mead's.

I apologize if I got a name wrong, but that's the way it happened in 58. So that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Jerry (Steve) Stephenson FA-BT2/c 58-61

A Union Man

Everyone knows the kind of officers we had, some good, some bad.

Well, we went alongside the tender. The chief wanted to send some gauges over to be checked and calibrated.

I went on the beach and the gauges were sent over by the duty machinist mate. He sent half of the union with them.

Back came the gages several days later, with no union half.

The Assistant Engineering officer came down (Mr. White) and asked, "Espenschied, the captain wants to know if the forward engine room is ready to get underway?"

I answered, "No. The gages that were sent to the tender for calibration, came back without their half of the union. I sent a man over to get them and as soon as he returns in about 30 minutes, we will be ready to light off and get underway.

Mr. White stood there a few minutes and then asked, "Espenschied, what is a union?"

I could not help myself and said, "AFL-CIO you know."

With that he went up the ladder and reported to the captain. Soon I had a call from the captain telling me in so many words to stop picking on Jr. officers.

Moose Espenschied

Fish Story

There was a young bos'n seaman, new to the fleet. After swabbing the fantail one evening at sea, he proceeded to let the swab over the fantail to rinse. Young fellow was afraid he'd lose the swab so he started twisting some heavy wire around it and the tie line, left some large loops in the wire too. Well he drops the swab in the drink and lights up. He's standing there talking to a buddy who suddenly shouts "Look at that swab!". Our deck tech looks back in time to see a large fish come flyin' outta the water attached to his swab line. He and his buddy try pulling it in but it's no use, the fish is just too heavy and the ships making 15 knots. Well, he's just about to cut everything loose when some sonar types show up to do a BT drop. These guys take in the scene and take over. They attached the steel cable from the BT winch to the bosn's swab line and kick on the juice. Well that fish put up one h--- of a fight but he was plain outclassed. They got that fish up on deck and put him down with a couple of swats from a marlinspike. Whole crew had nothing but fish to eat for a week. Traded some to the carrier for new movies too.

Contributed by Gary Peters

Sandwiches Anyone?

This happened aboard the USS Lyman K. Swenson in Korea, the winter of 1951. A terrible winter it was too.

There were onboard these two individuals from Omaha. Their names were Salami and Hamm. I’m not kidding. There is still evidence of them if you check the Omaha phone book.

We spent as high as 55 days out there in Task Force 77 without even seeing land. Morale was lousy. Provisions were low. We were eating powdered milk, powdered eggs and dehydrated spuds. Lousy weather, Condition Three watches (4 on 4 off) and always at blacken ship. Movies in the mess hall; but every one has been seen 6 times, no matter how lousy. The Ships Store was out of cigarettes. The only way things could have been worse is if the dammed laundry had broken down or they had ordered salt water showers.

It was a matter of a lot of a lot of resentment that each evening the Officers Stewards would make this enormous platter of sandwiches. They would leave them in the Officers Pantry just outside of the Wardroom. This resentment wasn’t tempered by the fact that the officers paid for their own food out of their food and clothing allowance.

Well it started slowly. A sandwich here and a sandwich there. Someone pretty ballsey was slipping in there and ripping off some of those sandwiches. The Officers on the 4 to 8 weren’t getting their sandwiches….. It took a while; but they finally put two and two together.

This particular night the Executive Officer, LT. CDR. Brockhouse had staked himself out in the Wardroom and was lying in wait. About half way through the Mid watch, Hamm and Salami made their move. The Torpedo Deck was almost completely covered with 40 MM ammo cans, with only a narrow trail through them fore and aft. You could only hope to find your way through them if you had been there before in daylight. It was absolutely black that night. Overcast and no moon. Hamm and Salami were standing their watch on the 40MM Quad Mount Aft.

Forward past the stacks, past the Torpedo tubes and in the hatch. Past the Radio Shack and into the Officers Pantry slid Hamm. Salami was standing lookout at the hatch aft the Radio Shack. Well, Hamm had no more than picked up the tray of sandwiches when he heard the Wardroom door open. Ham and Brockhouse met in the door of the Pantry. Hamm brushed past Brockhouse and turned left and headed for the Torpedo deck with Brockhouse right on his ass screaming," Halt!! Halt!! Damn you, stop right there! You're under arrest!" Of course Hamm was on his way through the 40MM ammo cans with that tray of sandwiches and Brockhouse started banging his shins on those ammo cans. You could hear him going, @#O!, OH! Dam. He never went far and never got a good look at Hamm either. The only evidence they found the next day was a tray somewhere behind the after stack and a few wax papers strewn around. Let me tell you that Hamm was the A #1Ship's Hero for a while and is a hero of mine today. Hamm get in touch and I’ll come to Omaha and buy you a sandwich. Brockhouse never did find out who the thief was, till now.

rfburns@bresnan.com

Irish Beef?

Wednesday, March 18, 1998

Yesterday being St. Patrick's Day brings this story to mind.

Well, in the DeHaven somewhere in Korean waters in early 1950, I being assigned to the Quartermaster Gang as a Seaman Apprentice was just finding out that I could gold brick my way into the head of the chow line. I always had a reason to need to eat early without standing in line. Anyway we were having roast beef today and I was there early.

There were only three or four hands sitting in the mess hall; when the guy next to me screamed and jumped up backing away from his tray. I looked over and there laying on his tray was about ¾ inch of somebody's forefinger. Being from Montana I wasn't too squeamish; so I just kept on eating. Most of the other guys scraped their trays and got the hell out of there.

It seems that Finnigan Greene, the head cook, had run his hand through the slicing machine and whacked off the end of his finger. He grabbed his hand and headed for sick bay. His helper, with all due diligence, just continued on not noticing the digit hidden under a slab of roast beef. This incident sure as hell gave us something to talk about on the DeHaven, when future menu's promised roast beef.

I always eat roast beef on St. Patrick's day in honor of Finnigan Greene. If you are out there Finnigan, hold up your right hand and swear.

Robert Burns

Tammy Jumper from Hot Springs, Arkansas writes:

“My father, David C. Miles, must have served with you on the DeHaven in 1950. I read your story about the finger you found on a sandwich. If you hadn't known who lost it, I would have thought it was my father's who is missing one. Loved reading your story. Let me know if you by chance knew my father.”

Food for Thought

This Sea Story happened early in the Korean War. I can't remember if it happened on the DeHaven or the Swenson.

Any way I think it was on the Dehaven in early 1950.

It seems someone had shot down a MIG fighter and recovered a dead Russian pilot. The DeHaven was given the unlikely assignment of turning the body over to a Russian delegation if we could find one. I clearly remember getting the body in a transfer at sea in a canvas body bag.

The Soviet Union was in hot denial that any Russians were involved in the Korean Conflict. We were chasing all over Korea trying to unload a dead pilot; that we had stored down in the reefers with our various meat products. It took us six weeks to find a Russian group in Korea to accept our gift. Finally we got rid of him at Pusan.

In the meantime poor Finnigan Greene the ships cook was catching hell every time someone got a tough hunk of meat or something with a little off taste. After all in 1950 food on a tin can could be described robust, not gourmet. I want you to understand that all comments about the food were made indirectly and away from the chow line. If you ever openly criticized the food in the DeHaven in 1950; you might as well stick your head between your legs and kiss your ass good bye. I'm a little reluctant to do so even now 48 years later.

Robert Burns

Christmas Choo Choo Hunt

After spending the opening days of the Korean War on the USS DeHaven up to and after the famous Invasion of Inchon, I transferred to the USS Lyman K. Swenson in the Spring of 1951. Back in Korea and feeling really homesick and blue as Christmas was upon us, I either volunteered or was drafted for a Christmas Eve mission.

For weeks we had been sitting on station blowing up the railroad tracks in a spot between two tunnels. We'd blow it up in the daytime and the Commies would send out a section crew right after dark and fix the track. They would then run short trains from tunnel to tunnel. This is an incredibly beautiful part of the east coast of North Korea where the mountains run nearly down to the beach.

The mission was to take a whale boat in close to the beach and listen for steam engines. Being a skivvy waver my job was to be the signalman on the whale boat. Sure enough about midnight we begin to hear the distinct choo choo choo of a steam engine making its way south out of the tunnel. Now the fire controllers for those 5 inch 38s had the coordinates locked in for weeks. I sent a hooded flashing light signal back to the Swenson. Something like - .-. .- .. -. The secondary explosions must have went a thousand feet in the air. It looked more like the Fourth of July than Christmas Day around there.

Merry Christmas to all the DeHavenites and Swensonites too.

Bob Burns

Steamin'

You noted that you have a picture of the USS DeHaven DD-727 steaming out of San Francisco Bay following the FRAM overhaul. I also saw that good looking ship steaming out of the harbor that morning. In fact I called my girl friend and ask her to come and look. She brought her binoculars and had a look see and then handed them to me.

As I enjoyed the picture of a destroyer smartly leaving the harbor, I focused on her hull number and only then did I realize that it was the DD-727! My ship! I had overslept, forgetting that the ship was leaving early that morning. What a wake up call.

I was a 19 year old BT3/c at the time with no money and in big trouble. I borrowed several silver dollars from my friend and immediately took off and hitch hiked to Long beach. I beat the ship there and turned myself in to the "PIKE" hard hat shore Patrol. What a mistake. They locked me up, called it safe keeping since I was a PO, and then returned me to the ship early the following morning after the ship arrived. The Skipper, I don't remember if it was J. J. Phillips or W. C. Singletary, told me that since I'd recognized my mistake and made it back as quick as possible and turned myself in, he'd punish me only with time served, one night, a haircut and voluntary weekend aboard. Must have had a kind spot in his heart for the young snipe.

The picture sure is neat, but my scene following for a few days wasn't. That's a real straight story. One that should start " This ain't no ----.

Jerry (Steve) Stephenson BT2/c 1958-61

Cinderella Liberty

While stationed in Yokosuka on board DeHaven in the early 60's, one of the things that stuck out in my mind was the incident involving one of the LSTs also home ported there. Anyone stationed there at this time, or just visiting, will probably remember the Tom Green County. One evening, a sailor attached to this ship was on liberty and was in a Japanese bar (strictly off-limits to US personnel) in the wee hours of the morning. Something happened and the police were called. A scuffle broke out and the sailor got hold of the policeman's gun and, unfortunately, shot him to death.

At that time sailors in Yokosuka, especially those home ported there, were eligible for overnight liberty, upon request. This incident put a stop to that policy real quick. It was so bad after this that the Tom Green County sailors were not allowed to wear their ship's patch on their uniforms because irate sailors would spot them on the beach and fights would break out because one of their shipmates screwed up overnight liberty for all hands.

The seaman was found guilty in the Japanese courts and was sentenced to , I believe, twenty years in a Japanese prison. I recall reading about this incident in Life magazine shortly thereafter. It was some time before "Cinderella" liberty was a thing of the past and overnights were once again available to all hands.

John Barone SOG3

The Night the Safeties Lifted

This happened during the 3^rd Korean cruise and as Clarence Dargie said in his address at the USS Walke DD-723 reunion some years ago "You can always tell the difference between a fairy tale and a war story, because a fairy tale starts with, "Once upon a time" and a war story begins with, Honest to God guys, this is the truth". So, Honest this is the truth.

We'd been lying off the rail tunnels ("Packages") for a few nights hoping to stop a train going south. I don’t remember that we had been successful prior to this night, but our Captain (Cdr Siegmund) had decided that we’d get in real close tonight and as we stood at GQ, word came down from the bridge to run the blowers (for the boilers) at as low a speed as possible so that we wouldn’t be heard on the beach. We were sitting in real close (according the bridge phone talker) but still, the blowers were running too fast and making too much noise. So there we were, the fireroom crews trying to maintain 600 + pounds of steam, (so that just in case we need to get the hell out of there) and the "Old Man" wanting to keep the ship as quiet as possible. I recall several calls from the bridge that we had to get the blower speed down and the word being passed to the fire rooms. I guess we all were caught up in the anticipation that tonight, we were going to get a train! However, this night the safeties on one of the boilers lifted, What a noise! "All ahead Flank" got rung up and we received an "ice cold" message "Thanks Engine room" from the "Old Man". There was lots of back and forth between "snipes" & "deckies" on the mess deck for quite a few days afterwards. But, our "gunners" got plenty of other targets during that cruise, and I’m sure Capt. Seigmund was mighty proud of his crew when we finished our tour.

Bob Adams MMFN ’52-‘53

Scrambled Eggs

Liberty in Sasebo! After weeks of bouncing around the East Coast of Korea, finally, our chance to get ashore. On the main drag, the neon lights flashed and glittered. Inside every door, an experience waited. Burt Sunderland and I had gone up and down the boulevard, stopping for a beer or two here and there and had managed to get "pretty relaxed". However, it was getting close to 2300 and time to get back to the "Fleet Landing" and get the boat back to the ship. On our way back we passed a stand that had a sizeable display of fresh eggs (?) and decided that we’d ought to get a few and take them down to the engine room and fry up some sandwiches. We bought a half dozen, and I don’t remember what we paid, but we both figured the price was reasonable. "Sundy" took charge of the eggs, and on the boat back to the ship I became convinced that he was all to "cavalier" regarding the care of the eggs and suggested that since he’d had more to drink than I had, I’d ought to take care of the eggs. "Sundy" was having no part of that idea and refused to let go of the bag.

We were outboard of the ships alongside the tender when we left, and as the liberty boat pulled up, here’s an LSMR outboard of our ship and a steel ladder down the side for boarding. Just the thing for a bunch of not quite sober sailors to ascend. During his climb up the ladder "Sundy" accidentally bumped the bag of eggs on the top rung. We made our gangway, saluted the colors and the OOD and as "Sundy" stepped off the gangway the bottom of the bag let go and before he could react, a couple of eggs splattered onto the quarterdeck! The OOD was not amused. Fortunately for us he was the Asst. Engineering Officer and we managed to get away with getting the deck cleaned up quickly, that is, as fast our "condition" would permit. I now took charge of what few eggs we had remaining while "Sundy" went up to the galley to see the cook about "comshawing" some bread for the sandwiches. I went down the hatch in the fore and aft passageway. On the way down the ladder the bag split open and two more eggs fell breaking on the rungs of the ladder and ending up on the deck plates. I cleaned up the debris and got out the cooking gear. "Sundy" was successful up in the galley, so, we fried up the remaining two eggs, made up a sandwich apiece, had a cup of coffee and called it a night.

The next morning we mustered on station. Going down the ladder, I noticed that there were egg yoke streaks and bits of eggshells on the canvass backer attached to the ladder. Chief Flack and "Moose" Espenschied had got below before us; (it was not going to be a good morning). "Moose" declared that "Sundy" and I had "better scrub those eggs off the ladder and backer, right now!" and also after we’d finished, he "had a special assignment" for us on the lower level. When we finished our "assignment", we had sparkling bilges. We took one heck of a ribbing from our shipmates over the eggs, but as I look back, those were some of the greatest days of our lives. Eh? Don’t think we’d ever have as much fun in today's Navy.

I don’t see Sunderland’s name on the log. I wish it were there. He’d have a good chuckle.

Bob Adams MMFN ’52-‘53

Green Storm

Every day has a memory! One memory that sticks in my mind is: Thanksgiving day 1963. The night before, the sea was so rough that I thought I would have to strap myself into my bunk. Instead, I loosened the strings on my pad and let it sag. Slept well, and the next day being hoilday routine I slept late. When I woke it was not so rough. Went to the mess decks for brunch then went topside. What I saw was the most amazing sight I have ever seen. The sea was green as Jell-O and swelling like it wanted to burst, but it was calm, not one white-cap. Out about ten miles or so was a solid wall of clouds all around the ship. 

The deck-apes had the boat out and were retrieving a big drone aircraft. They towed it to the ship and the guys on the ship were bringing it aboard when the sea began to get rough. The guys in the boat were trying to get both pelican hooks up at the same time, but the swells kept screwing that up. First one end of the boat would come up the! n the other. All the while the line handlers were having a fit with the drone. The ship was rolling by now and they were in danger of losing the drone. Word came down from the bridge, if you don't get the boat the next time around, the boat crew should come aboard, and forget the boat. 

By now Walter's boys had the drone over the deck, and it was like a loose cannon. Water was coming over the deck now, and the deck officer told them, to either get it secured or let it go, and to hell with it. The boat came around for the last time and as luck would have it, they got both hooks up at the same time, and they brought the boat aboard. The deck officer told all the rubber-neckers to lay below, and for the deck force to get the boat rigged in and clear the area. By now we could hardly stand up, and were walking on the bulkheads as we went below. Within minutes we were engulfed by the storm again. 

Just this year, there was a presentation about the drones on the history channel. They were surveillance drones flown over Vietnam. They must have dumped it at sea because of the storm.

Newt Robinson ICC (SS) 62-67

Pedicab Liberty

I told this true event at one of our reunions and have been asked if I would repeat it again for everyone.

The dates fade me but it had to be early 1962 when we were on Taiwan patrol. On at Saturday liberty Roger EM3 and I were on the beach early. I never drank that much because of a bad stomach (Ulcer). But on this event Rogers wanted to see if he could get me drunk. We started out at the bottom of the hill where all the bars lined both sides of the street all the way to the top in Kaohsiung. The object was to have just one drink in each of the bars ending at the EM club at the top of the hill. To our knowledge no one had ever done this before.

 Needless to say by 11 PM we made the EM club at top of hill. There was definitely no pain being felt by either of us. It was time to return to the ship being we had Cinderella Liberty. So as we exited the club Rogers talked a pedicab drive into letting him drive down the hill. What a mistake that was. If you remember there was a 4 lane highway at the bottom of the hill we had to cross. Well as Rogers started down the hill the Chink was sitting on my left and I think he was saying slow down to Rogers. I remember seeing red lights in our direction and a lot of cars going very fast through that intersection.

Some how we made it through that intersection without being hit by a car. Our speed was real fast and I could see the main gate coming up fast. I knew that the pedicab would not fit through that walk through gate and I was sure the Marine guard would stop us to check ID. Well not this time. Rogers fit that pedicab right through that gate. If you remember there was a cement pier there that went to the left for the liberty boats to come along side to drop us off and pick us up.

Well just as we went through that gate Rogers said you go right when I say. We were in blues and when he said jump I did. I can to this day hear that Chink screaming something as he went out over the end of the pier and into the drink along with the pedicab. Being we were traveling quite fast and landing on the concrete pier our blues got messed up real bad and we had skinned knees and elbows to say the least. We jumped up and ran down the pier to the first liberty launch and jumped in it. Well it sure was not the DeHaven's, it belonged to the Mansfield. The coxswain was a good friend of mine from back home and he saw what happened and was laughing real hard. But he just gave the order to depart. He headed out to the Mansfield and unloaded those he had on board. Then he turned off his running lights and slipped around the Mansfield and on out to the DeHaven. We passed the DeHaven launch on our way to the Mansfield. So we knew that the DeHaven launch would be back to the DeHaven in less than 1/2 hour with a full load of late niters.

Being that our gang plank was forward of quarter deck and could not be seen by quarter-deck, Rogers and I slipped on the ship and down to the compartment as quit as we could. We cleaned up our arms and legs from the blood and put on another set of blues and waited just inside the passageway for the DeHaven launch to return. We did not have long and as it unloaded we just fell in as they came aboard and turned in our liberty cards and went to bed.

The next day we could see the Mansfield having quarters most of the morning. They were looking for the guys that dumped the pedicab into the drink along with its owner. Had they come to the DeHaven and asked us to remove our work shirts we would have been caught. We never went to sick bay as we did not want doc to know it was us. There was a lot of talk about this on the DeHaven for a month and we all said that we hoped they did not catch those guys.

Yes I can still hear the ringing in my ears today of that chink screaming as I left the pedicab. Wonder what he was saying?

Dan Wisner 60-62

Dan, I recall an event in Keelung in either 65 or 66. Not real sure if I was still on the 886 or if it was the DeHaven. We started out doing the bar-hopping trick, there were 4 of us. We then "graduated" to bottles of plum wine, bottle rockets and pedi-cabs. We discovered the guys pulling the things were more than willing to race each other in exchange for a few $. My buddy in our nearest competition hated to lose so he launched a rocket at the feet of my "puller" to slow him down, didnt work! The guy speeded up and swerved into the rig next to us. the wheels locked up, the pullers went down and the guys behind us piled on top! Four pedicabs in a pile, four sailors airborne and wine flying everywhere. The Chinese were not real happy with us even though there was no real damage done to the cabs and only minor scrapes on the pullers. Since we were in our whites and the streets were not exactly sanitary, the 4 of us looked like we had been run over by a garbage truck. We paid off the pullers and made our way back to the ship. We weren't as lucky as you. We had to face the quarterdeck and come up with a story that got us off the hook. I doubt that anyone believed us but we weren't sent to mast. Just a bit of extra duty. Hard to forget the "good old days".