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03/10/10 |
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In the morning I reported to Chief QM Sharp. He took me to the bridge where I met the signalmen and the other quartermasters. That night I had the "mid-watch" from midnight to 4:00 AM. I slept on the mess table for three more nights before getting a regular bunk. With the ship at anchor, I got a day of liberty in Portland. I read the N.Y. Times in the library and then saw the movie, "Now Voyager". |
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On December 10th the Bache lifted anchor for its initial "shake-down" run. With the ocean calm and the ship running smoothly, it was really beautiful to be at sea. However, many of the crew got seasick and were soon vomiting over the side. So far, I wasn't affected. After that one beautiful day there was a drastic change in weather. Winter set in with snow, strong winds, and freezing temperatures. The rough sea and choppy waves made many more shipmates seasick. Fortunately, I still was not affected by the rough ocean. What did upset me was standing the four-hour watch every night at midnight or at 4:00 AM. Then, after reveille and breakfast, you still had to "turn to" at your work station and then stand another four-hour watch during the day. This routine was running me down and I became too tired and sleepy to do much else. Our commanding officer, Captain John N. Opie, III, was an imposing figure. Tall and lanky, never with a smile, he was the spitting image of a German Admiral. However, he reminded me of the tyrannical captain in "Mutiny on the Bounty". So, my name for him was Captain Bligh. Almost every day we ventured out for anti-aircraft firing, shore bombardment and practice firing on subs. A couple nights we stayed out to practice night firing. We joined up with the destroyers Jeffries and Cony for tactical maneuvers and on another run we fired and maneuvered with the cruiser, Tuscaloosa. On a full-speed trial the Bache made 38 knots (about 44 mph). Our ship was scheduled to have an Admiral's inspection at the end of the training exercises. Although that inspection was three weeks off our Captain was already nervous. After two or three "field days" the ship was tidy inside and out but that wasn't good enough for Captain Bligh. Now, every day became "field day". The only respite came on Christmas Eve when we anchored and went ashore in Portland. I telephoned home, bought Christmas cards and then enjoyed an Italian dinner. Returning to the ship on Christmas Day, I had a good turkey dinner and then wrote my Christmas cards. On December 29th, reveille came one hour earlier. And so did another "field day" which continued until the Admiral actually came aboard the Bache at 1300. After his inspection the Admiral left the ship. Only then did Captain Bligh relax. We did too, but not for long. At 0230, underway with the destroyer Pringle, we were to rendezvous in mid-Atlantic with a homeward bound convoy that was under submarine attack. Speeding towards the Azores we reached the convoy on January 2nd. Taking our escort position in front of the convoy, it was slow-going for the journey home. Every day was cold and wintry and with the ocean rough half of the crew was seasick, some for all eleven days. Even though we were in dangerous waters, the "field days" continued. The ship was cleaned inside and out. Three times a day, the Chief Executive Officer made a routine inspection. During the day, no one could sleep in his bunk, not even if you were on the mid-watch from midnight to four in the morning. We were all getting tired, run down and sleepy. Despite the wind, rain and snow, the crew had to clean the outside of the ship with hot water and a wash rag. Is it any wonder why our despicable Captain was hated by all on the Bache? After a "sound contact" we engaged a submarine for four hours, dropping three depth charges. Just before dark, when an oil slick became visible, the crew felt that we destroyed the sub. Returning to our escort position with the convoy we proceeded to Halifax, Nova Scotia. On Sunday, January 10th the Bache arrived at the Brooklyn Navy Yard for repairs. After the six days in dry dock our destroyer was to be assigned to the Pacific Fleet. Of the 380 crew members only a select thirty were to receive the full six-day leave. The rest were to get only three days. But then the Captain lowered it to two days. The crew was split into three groups; while one went on liberty, the other two remained on the ship. This made the crew furious. Fortunately, I was in that first group. After writing a "chit", requesting one extra day, I gave it to the Chief Executive Officer, Mr. Foster. As I placed it on his desk, he continued to write. Without even looking at me, he said, "Speak up". I explained that a round trip to Cleveland would take two days and that I need one extra day to be with my mother and family. He picked up the "chit", crumbled it, and threw it in a waste basket. Disappointed and seething with anger. I went to the Grand Central Station to get on the train for Cleveland. At home, I told my family, relatives and friends that, officially, I only had two days but would take six and I didn't care what happened on my return. I ate well, drank wine, and slept soundly. At the library, I read the Plain Dealer, catching up on the war news. Most of my buddies were now in service. I did see Dom Donofrio, who was now married and would soon be a father. E.J. Romito, in the Coast Guard, was stationed in Cleveland at the East Ninth St. Pier. I visited him on the Ossipie and then went to his home. We had a nice lunch with his wife, "Minnie", and Marie Nyerges. Our conversation was mostly about Frank. Marie said she would soon join Frank in California. My time was up. On the last day I went to Cleveland, saw my Cousin Henry and Uncle Attilio and then came home to spend the last moments with the family. My train to New York departed at 9:20 PM. The next morning I went aboard the Bache. I received a lot of mail that had accumulated and $15 in back pay. But now, liberty was restricted and I was designated PAL (prisoner at large). I wasn't the only one to return "over leave". Over a hundred men did likewise. Captain Bligh became very angry as he scolded us for letting him down. After another five days to complete repairs on the ship we got underway for degaussing tests and to pick up supplies at the 35th St. Pier. Then an accident forced us to return to dry-dock. A burned out boiler had to be replaced and that would take at least two more weeks. This was a set-back for Captain Bligh but not for the crew looking forward to liberty in New York. After four days he granted "overnight liberty" every other night to half of the crew. On January 26th more than 100 court-martials were handed down. I was in a group of 30 shipmates that went over leave more than two days. Our penalty was more severe -- demotion to a lower pay-grade. Expecting to be punished, I was still glad that I went home. But I was disappointed when I was taken off the bridge and was assigned to the deck force. As a Seaman 1/C I was now stationed on a 5-inch gun. This I resented. It made no sense to put me on a gun after having sent me to the QM school for 16 weeks. The very next day Captain Bligh was GONE –transferred to a new assignment. He was relieved by a Lt. Comdr. Frank Adamson. Our new Captain showed a human face. He could smile, that alone made a good impression. The officers and crew were all glad to see Captain Bligh leave. No doubt, I was the happiest man on the ship. That same day, on my first liberty I visited Joe Baron in New Jersey. Later, when I phoned Frank Rosato, he told me that his brother Don was stationed at Pearl Harbor. On another liberty, a Saturday night, after seeing Noel Coward's "In Which We Serve", I met a sweet-looking girl, Mary Basile. . In a letter to Frank Nyerges, this is what I wrote: The trouble with her is that she's a holy roller. She met me on Broadway, handed me a religious card and asked me to go to the concert at a church right around the corner. I followed her and went in, but only after she promised to sit with me. However, I got mad when she tried to get me to go down front and "be saved". After the prayer meeting, (I certainly wouldn't call it "a concert"), we had coffee at the automat and we had a long argument on religion and philosophy. What a character, Franklin. She's 18 1/2 years old, pretty and Italian too. She uses no make-up, not even nail polish. She doesn't smoke and she doesn't see any movies. Her last one was "Imitation of Life". (I saw it in on June 9, 1935). Can you imagine me listening to a girl who thinks motion pictures are no good and of no value? Anyway, I took her home up in the Bronx and, I swear, I must see her again. She doesn't want to get too friendly because I'm not a holy roller, but she gave in at the last moment. I intend to see her tomorrow night. I swear that before she converts me to the "four square gospel", I'll convert her to the movies and to the Catholic Church. With all our arguing, I really enjoyed being with her. I had fun for the first time in many, many months. I sent her a letter on the following day. Two days later, I visited Mary at her home. After meeting her family, I accompanied Mary and her sister, Catherine, to a choir practice. After returning to her home, we continued to talk late into the night. The next day after phoning her twice, we met downtown, ate at the Victory Place and then went to the Public Library to continue our conversation. That was our last date. We never met again. The next morning when the Bache began the long voyage to the Pacific area, we had an overnight stop at Norfolk where Rudy was stationed. While moored in the harbor, I thought how nice if we could meet again. On February 6th we departed with the Pringle as escort for the Victorious, the Aussie aircraft carrier. With our new Captain and a happier crew we headed for the Panama Canal. Most importantly, I was ordered back up on the bridge as a messenger and to communicate over the p. a. (public address) system. I also was to run-off the mimeograph news bulletins. When I delivered them throughout the ship, the crew heard my good news from Gabriel Heatter and my own optimistic views on the war. Hugo P. Cipriani |
