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03/10/10 |
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My enlistment was held up a few days when they requested my CCC discharge certificate. Phoning home, I asked that Vito forward the document. When I inquired about their Officer Candidate School, I was surprised to learn that there was an age limit of 27 ½. Once more, I was too old. However, they offered me a petty officer rating of Yeoman, third class, and that was contingent on my |
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passing a typing test. I had to settle for that. Taking a room at the YMCA, we were together for a nice weekend. Sunday morning we awoke late. Rudy had a lot to say about his four years in the Navy. He warned me to avoid "getting on report". In turn, I talked about my UCLA experience, English literature and Walter Lippman, my favorite columnist. After an early breakfast on Monday, I hitchhiked back to Boston. After practicing again on the public typewriter I passed their typing test and when the CCC discharge arrived I took the Navy Oath. As a Yeoman third class petty officer, I was placed on active duty and was ready for "boot camp". Another hurdle popped up when they scheduled me to go to Chicago. I became so upset and furious; I kicked up a big fuss. I explained that I had come from California so that I could enlist in Newport to be near my brother whom I had not seen since he enlisted four years ago. That did it; I was rescheduled for the Naval Training Station in Newport. The next morning, April 14th, I was on the train to Providence and then on a bus to the Training Station. Our "induction" in Company 804 followed. I didn't mind the Navy chow, the short haircut or the seaman's uniform, but trying to sleep in a hammock was beyond frustration. Our barracks, not yet completed, gave us no area for reading or writing nor was there a building for recreation. The best part of my five weeks in "boot camp" was that I got to see Rudy regularly. He could visit me anytime whenever he was off duty. In a letter to Vito I asked that he send my small radio to Rudy since he could use it. Rudy received the radio on April 30th. A week later Vito was drafted into the Army and sent to Camp Perry in Ohio. This was a heavy blow to the family, especially to Mom and Dad. He was the one mainstay that we all depended on. Saturday, May 9th was my first day of "liberty" since my enlistment. After Captain's inspection and a "happy hour" of jogging, I met Rudy. We celebrated with another dinner of spaghetti, meat balls and beer. After dinner I called home to inform them that my transfer was pending and not to write until they got my new address. I was hoping for "sea duty" on a large warship but if it was "shore duty" my choice was the Pacific coast. Instead I was assigned to the U. S. Naval Hospital in Chelsea, only eight miles from Boston. Instead of working in Personnel I was assigned to the Ship's Service Office which was similar to the Army's Canteen Office. Besides phoning for merchandise and typing the confirming purchase order, I had to fill four vending machines daily. What I liked best, however, was my new quarters. Instead of sleeping in that canvas hammock five feet above the floor, I now slept in a regular hospital bed with a thick mattress. And with the many civilian employees -- men, women and nurses -- the surrounding civil atmosphere was more appealing. On my first weekend "liberty" which came on Saturday, Memorial Day, I hitched a ride to Boston and saw the stage play, "The Corn is Green", starring Ethel Barrymore. She gave a marvelous performance even though her brother John had died the day before. I then visited Rudy in Newport. I slept at the YMCA that night but we were together all day Sunday. I told Rudy that I now had my own personal locker so I took back my small radio, as well as my Italian grammar and notebook. After taking a bus to Providence and a train to Boston, I had a ten-minute subway ride to the Chelsea Naval Hospital. After a month in Ship's Service I was assigned to the Personnel Office where the typing was more interesting and I was privileged to the latest "scuttlebutt". For instance, I learned early on that our Naval District had an excess of third class yeomen. They would be drafted to attend a 16-week school to learn a new trade. Yeomen, not able to get their choice of schools, had to attend some other school. Immediately, I put in a request for the Photography School which was not on the list. But I knew it was in Pensacola, Florida and that Frank Capra was in charge. I felt encouraged when my Commanding Officer forwarded my request to the Chief of the Bureau of Naval Personnel. I then typed a request to District Headquarters not to draft me until the Photography School replied. When Rudy visited me on the June 27th weekend he told me of his pending transfer to the Island of Bermuda. We had to part, sooner or later, but I thought it would be me leaving him. We were together for the last time on Friday, July 3rd. We saw the Red Sox and Yankees in a twilight ballgame at Fenway Park. After a dinner and phoning home, we could only embrace and say goodbye. Before going to any school I put in a request to go home "on leave." Surprisingly, my ten-day leave was granted. Departing on July 22nd, I took a train to New York City. The train ride to Cleveland, overnight, was a long 12 hours. Another hour on the Bedford Bus brought me home. Most of my time was spent visiting relatives and seeing a few buddies that were not yet drafted. During my ten-day leave a most significant event occurred when I went to Cleveland to purchase Warner Bros. stock. With a new loan of $135 from Frances, plus my savings since Christmas, I was ready to buy 100 shares at 5 ½. The broker, Mr. Berg, immediately questioned my judgment. He said it was a cheap stock with no prospects and asked why I wanted to buy it. I wasn't about to explain what he didn't know. I told him that I came here, specifically, to buy Warner Bros. Realizing the debate was over; my order was executed at my price. I felt very good about what I had done. What Mr. Berg didn't know was that my love affair with the motion picture began in the 1920's, and that Warner Bros. was my favorite company. They were the most innovative, taking risks with the best producers, directors and actors. Darryl F. Zanuck's career began there as a script writer. They made the first sound films, the first gangster pictures, the first musicals and the first historical films. Some of the biggest stars -- Al Jolson, Edward G. Robinson, Paul Muni, James Cagney, Bette Davis and Humphrey Bogart -- all began their careers at Warner Bros. A more compelling reason for buying the stock was my memory of its historical price movement. During the bull market the stock rose from a low of 2 to over 20. But with the start of the Depression and then the Nazi's threatening Europe the stock returned to 2. It began to rise slowly when Hitler failed to take out England and then stumbled in Russia. With our improving prospects of winning the war, I felt the stock would rise once more to the 20's. The train ride back to Chelsea was faster than the ride that took me to Bedford. During my absence some yeomen were sent to Gunner's Mate and Machinist's Mate School in Chicago. I, too, would have been sent there if I had not gone on leave. I was still waiting for a response from the Photography School but it never came. For two weeks my WB stock was still at the same price but it jumped 3/8 on Tuesday, August 11th. On Thursday it gained another 3/8 to 6 ¼, a new high for the year. With this sudden rise I was more hopeful that the stock would return to the 20's. I endorsed the stock certificate and mailed it to my Mom for safekeeping. Now the stock could be sold if I failed to survive the war. On Friday, August 14th I learned of my pending transfer to the Quartermaster School in Newport. That ended my pipe-dream of Photography School. However, my second choice would have been QM school. I had a keen interest in Geography and I enjoyed looking at maps. In my Astronomy class at UCLA, I was fascinated with our large revolving globe tilted on its axis. Assigning me to any other school would have been a disaster. I was glad to leave Chelsea on Monday but that feeling was soon tempered in Newport where I was back in the wooden barracks and again sleeping in a hammock. My main disappointment was the school itself. Class began at 8:00 AM but we had a 15-minute break every hour "for smoking". We took an hour and half for lunch. Twice daily the class was disrupted when we received our mail. Whatever we learned during the week was reviewed again, and again, as if we were fifth graders. Our 23 year-old instructor was candid in admitting that he didn't like his job but he would do his best to teach us. Bored with the slow pace of learning, I began to utilize the wasted time by reading the New York Times and by writing letters. The paper kept me abreast of the war news and the letter writing gave me an outlet to express my feelings. Our instructor reprimanded me several times for reading the newspaper in class. I had to conform but I still read the paper during the smoking break, mail call, and lunch. He frowned however when I tried to scan the paper during the review sessions. When I missed only one question in two quizzes he let up a bit. After a month in school we were allowed to have "weekend liberties". This, definitely, boosted my morale. Going to New York or Boston was much better than languishing here. On September 19th, I took the train to NYC. After my visit with Joe Baron in Clifton, NJ I had time for a movie before taking the train to Newport. The following weekend during my hitchhike to Boston, I won $10 when I stopped for a couple races at the Narragansett track. In Boston I saw a wonderful movie, "Mrs. Miniver". On Sunday, at the Buddies Club, I read the Sunday Times and a book "Becoming a Writer" by Dorothea Brande. Writing is never easy but she made it seem that way. So did William Saroyan. After reading his book of short stories I read all his prefaces and plays including "The Time of your Life". His writing style, expressing thoughts imaginatively in simple sentences, made his writing seem easy. The writing that was easy for me was letter-writing. That discovery, honed at Camp Cummoche, was here in full flower at the QM School. At both places I had this obsession to express my views. During September and October I wrote 54 letters -- 19 to my family and 35 to my other correspondents. On Sept. 23rd I sent $30 to Frances, paying off my loan. I was fortunate to get the WB stock when I did; it would have been impossible to do so at the QM School. In October I signed up for a large $60 allotment to be withdrawn monthly from my $78. At war's end I wanted to have a "nest egg" for USC or a movie theater. On October 12th I heard the news broadcast that three of our Cruisers were sunk near the Solomon Islands. A chill went through me when the USS Quincy was identified with the USS Vincennes and USS Astoria. My brother Rudy served on the Quincy before getting his assignment in Newport. I can just imagine his feelings of sadness when he learns of the ship's tragic demise. I really enjoyed the weekend liberties in New York. I went there on October 17th and again on the 24th. I spent some time at the Stage Door Canteen, and then took a subway to Yonkers to visit with the Rosato Family. They were quite relieved to learn that Rudy was not on the ill-fated Quincy when it was sunk. That evening, at Carnegie Hall, I saw Arturo Toscanini, the world-famous conductor. He performed with the New York Philharmonic Orchestra in a rendition of Shostakovich's Seventh Symphony. The following weekend I spent all my time in Clifton, NJ with Joe Baron and Julia. I had a feeling that it could be our last time together. Joe would soon be drafted and I would soon be "at sea". We talked till 4:00 AM. On Sunday our conversation continued until after lunch. We had a couple drinks of "Carstairs and Coke". I then bid them goodbye. On the first of November I wrote to Mom in Italian. I expressed my hope for a weeks leave when school ends and I wanted to come home before going to sea. Wanting to comfort her, this is what I wrote: Io so che tu pensa e prega per mia salute. Ma, anche, volgio che tu abbia corragio, sapendo che io non ho nessuna paura della guerra, del mare e della morte. La fede che io ho abasta per me. Spero che tu avrai la stessa fede forte per la nostra vittoria e per la contenta ritornata da tuoi tre figli. I know that your thoughts and prayers are for my good health and safety. But you must also have courage in the knowledge that I have no fear of the sea, the war, and death. The faith that I have is enough for me. I hope you have the same strong faith in our victory with the happy return of your three sons. The war news was beginning to percolate. Stalingrad and Guadalcanal were holding, General Rommel was retreating in Egypt and the U.S. Army invaded French Africa. On November 9th Algiers capitulated, the next day, Oran and Casablanca surrendered. In our barracks each evening we listened to Gabriel Heatter. As a newscaster, he was the best. His voice and optimism was akin to Roosevelt's. He had the knack of dramatizing an insignificant detail into something important. His opening words, "There's good news tonight" boosted our morale in my barracks. I would miss that voice at sea. On Armistice Day, November 11th, I received a telegram from Frank Nyerges. He was in Bedford on two weeks leave from his Army unit on the West Coast. In his wire he requested that I phone. When I did he floored me with the amazing news that HE WAS MARRIED. On a blind date, E.J. Romito introduced Frank to Marie, a registered nurse who worked with E.J.'s sister at Charity Hospital.. After nine days the wedding took place with E.J. as best man and his wife maid of honor. First Mickey, and now Frank -- both beat me to the altar. Also on Armistice Day, we took our final exams at the school. Of course everyone passed. With our new rating, QM 3/c, we were now available for a new assignment. Five of the classmates were selected immediately to be the new "instructors" for the new QM classes. When Vito got a twelve-day leave he wrote that he would be going home. Since there was no possibility of my getting a leave I asked him to come to New York. It was our last chance to be together before going overseas. He agreed to meet me on Saturday, the 14th at the Sloane House, a YMCA on 34th St. Arriving at the Grand Central Station at 9:45 PM I was at the Sloan House soon after. Vito was there waiting for me. He looked slimmer but very trim in his soldier's uniform. We ate, talked a lot and then walked around the Times Square district. On Sunday we went on a sight seeing tour to Grant's Tomb, Fort Tryon Park, St. Patrick's Cathedral, and to the observation tower at the Empire State Bldg. After a good dinner at an Italian restaurant we saw Alex Korda's movie, "One of our Aircraft is Missing". With a short visit to the Stage Door Canteen our weekend was over. It was time to say, arrivederci. He took the train for Cleveland and I took the midnight train to Providence. Vito took my radio home. In a letter to Elma, a few days later, I told her to make sure the radio stays in the kitchen so Ma can hear the news in the morning and listen to the Gabriel Heatter broadcast in the evening. At the School, after class disbanded, there was not even a pretense of going to class. With nothing to do I spent most of my time reading and writing but I also got into some poker games. We could only languish as we waited for our new assignments. I spent another weekend with Joe Baron and Julia. On Sunday, Joe (ex-barber) gave me a shave and a haircut and with Julia we had a wonderful breakfast and dinner. I enjoyed their company. Later, Joe took me out to meet some friends – Johnnie and his wife and a new girl friend, Josephine Lagos. The first orders for our QM class occurred on the 24th. Ten volunteers were requested for Torpedo Boats. The ten men that raised their hand got that assignment. I was very happy on Thanksgiving Day when I got assigned to the destroyer, USS Jeffries. Two days later, however, before leaving Newport, my assignment was changed to another destroyer, USS Bache. It took seven hours for us to arrive at the New York Receiving Station at Pier 92. Out of the 46 men in my company only three got assigned to destroyers. I was very lucky to get the Bache. One classmate got the Maddox; the other went to the Jeffries. Seventeen men were sent to Norfolk for "amphibious ships" The others became QM instructors or trainees for the PT Boats. On December 1st I was sent to the receiving station at Long Beach, Long Island. This was formerly a famous hotel, Club Lido, a summer resort right on the beach. I had no work to do, just wait for my ship. I learned that the Bache was put into full commission at the Brooklyn Navy Yard on November 14th. While waiting at Club Lido the ship was undergoing tests and going through its trial speed runs. Finally, on December 5th I was sent to Portland, Maine. The Bache was anchored in Casco Bay. Late that evening, after a short ride in a boat, I went aboard in the dark. With no bunk, I had to sleep on a mess table. Hugo P. Cipriani |