My job this past year has been here at the Fourteenth Naval District's Communications Office at Wahiawa. This is the main center of communications for CINCPAC (Admiral Nimitz). My present job is titled "Ship Movements Officer." I am getting rather bored with my work even though this is a plush job with lots of fringe benefits. One of the big-wigs came around and said that they need several of us to volunteer to go to Guam to set up a communications office there. I figure that (men) from our group officers will continue to be taken to newly conquered islands. Guam is not yet completely rid of Japanese soldiers but is probably safer than some of these new islands so I decided to volunteer to go. Now that I am married I have to be more cautious than I was earlier in the war.
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| Guam |
Dec.19, 1944 - I'm getting quite chummy with Mitch Carter (Mitchel M Carter). He was originally from Utah and is a Mormon. He had been an agent for the FBI. I don't know why he didn't stay with them. Mitch and I went to the supply office where we were allowed to check out three trunks and combat clothing and so forth. I checked out two new baseball mitts and a baseball. We were told that we should check out a steel helmet. Lt.(jg) Schley (Asbury W Schley) couldn't see the need for a helmet so he didn't get one. We also received high-top boots for the 6-inch mud. The 3 trunks were sized so that the two smaller ones would fit into the larger one. One of the trunks was to be used so that we could send our surplus gear home. Mr. Keating (James F Keating) being a retired navy man was an old pro at this. He drew out the maximum allowance of sheets, blankets, shoes etc. Then he put all these items in a trunk and sent that trunk home.
Dec.21, 1944 - I didn't get a very good reception by Lt. Woolverton (Robert J Woolverton) at the airplane. He felt that as the senior officer of us we owed him the courtesy of reporting to him so that he could nursemaid us all to the airplane together. I told him that my orders were for me individually and that I didn't have a clue as to where to find him anyway. He tried pulling his seniority all the way to Guam, but none of us paid attention to him.
Lt.(jg) Schley is a little ugly man with a perpetual black beard showing on his twisted face. His job before the navy was as a guard for the navy prison at Portsmouth, NH. The first time I met him he let me know that he had some pornographic pictures. Some of the other officers told me that he was trying to sell them. We have lots of time to talk on the airplane as we head for Johnston Island. When it was learned that I had been on the USS Oklahoma, Lt. Schley asked me if I knew an apprentice seaman named Milller. When I told him "no" he said, "Oh, you must have known him. He was a gunnery division officer." Then I said, "Oh yes, he was a Lieutenant and was also the 'Ship's Service Officer." Then Mr. Schley told how Lt. Miller was now an apprentice seaman and was serving twenty years at Portsmouth Naval Prison for absconding with the ship service funds. Then he added, "And when I say time, what I really mean is hard time." He said that Mr. Miller was too old and in too poor health to last very much longer with the punishment that he was receiving.
Tonight we landed at Johnston Island. It seems to be nothing more than a huge mass of white coral out in the middle of the ocean. It reminds me of the salt flats near Salt Lake City. We gassed up and are now heading for Kwajelein Island.
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| Johnston Island |
Dec.23, 1944 (5:00am) - Somehow we lost a whole day. We crossed the International Date Line. I had crossed the date line many times when I was aboard the USS Enterprise, but this seems to be a big deal for Carter and Schley. Woolverton tried to organize an initiation for them, but it didn't work, out.
(11:00am) - We landed at Guam on a steel mesh landing field. Otherwise, it would have been in nine inches of mud. The sun is shining brightly, but as soon as we are all settled in our covered truck, which is to take us to the Joint Communications Activities Guam (JCA Guam), a very heavy rain came down on us. I wonder how the driver can see where to take us. Our living quarters was a large quansot hut shaped like a half circle. The first officer that I met at this BOQ (Batchelor Officer's Quarters) was the one man on the entire island that wanted to stay there. He had a Chomorro girl friend somewhere on the island.
At our introduction, I mentioned the sunshine as we arrived but that it had been raining ever since. He laughed and laughed. He said that that ten minutes of sunshine that we landed in was the only sunshine that they had had on the island for over two weeks. He was confined to his quarters because he had contacted a severe skin disease from his girl friend. About a week later, he was sent to a hospital and then to Pearl Harbor for treatment. Like I mentioned earlier, he was the only man I knew that wanted to stay on Guam and now he had to leave. When he left I inherited his chair, which was a tin can similar to the ones that hold sixty pounds of honey.
Dec.24, 1944 - Our bathroom consists of an outdoor toilet for sit down and just a pipe stuck in the ground with a funnel soldered on the end of it for stand up bathroom duties. There are no women at our base so this is sufficient. We have a twenty-five gallon drum filled with cold water which is mounted on four posts which we use for a shower bath. I have learned why the supply officer at Pearl insisted that we each have a helmet. We draw cold water into our helmet so that we can take a sponge bath and shave. Poor Lt. Schley is crying his eyes out because he didn't get a helmet and now says he can't possibly shave in cold water. He doesn't have a private wash basin. He has to use a common helmet for a wash basin. I wonder what he thought it would be like here in a battle zone. He is in a different BOQ than I am and is also on a different watch schedule for which I am thankful.
Dec.25, 1944 - Christmas Day is just another day here. We all went over to the supply office to see if there was anything else that we needed. Mr. Keating checked out everything again. The supply officer didn't want to give him the boots etc, because they were in short supply. He relented though and gave the boots. I should have made some remark to let them know that Mr. Keating already had all of the supplies.
Dec.26, 1944 - My new boss came up to me and shook hands and said, "Misto Dougwas, I am Commando Weagan." I said, "How do you do? I'm glad to meet you Commander Weegan." He said, "Not Weegan, but Weegan." I said, "How do you spell your name Commander?" I was finally able to say, "Oh, Reegan".
Jan. 15, 1945 - I have been working as a coding officer since I arrived here and was on a watch schedule. The Captain interviewed me today and when he learned that I had been working as the "Ship Movements Officer" at Radio Honolulu, he designated me with that assignment here at Guam. I have the day shift and have Mitch Carter and two other officers and three enlisted men to work under me to maintain a card system. The cards are to show each ship in the area and how to send radio messages to these ships. We get most of our movements information from coded dispatches received from CINCPAC and COMSOWESPAC.
Jan-16, 1945 - A typical work day is to rise, shave and eat breakfast. Then a group of us health nuts walk over to the work area in the relative cool of the morning. In our office, the officers read through the confidential radio messages and try to locate anything in the dispatch which gives routing instructions for radio messages. Because of the heat, when it is time to leave, I always ride a bus back to our quarters. Stan Wronski is my new pal. He is an ex-semipro baseball player. We play catch with the baseball whenever it isn't too hot.
This climate is moist and hot. I have felt lazy and listless since I've been here. Mitch Carter though is losing weight and looks and feels terrible. The food may be part of the problem. A typical breakfast consists of fried spam, powdered eggs scrambled, toast and coffee. Lunch is spam and cheese slices for sandwiches and powdered battery acid (lemonade). I can't very well tell you what they call spam on toast. Supper consists of baked spam with pineapple slices, mashed powdered potatoes and more battery acid. We have very little fruit and no fresh meat. Spam three times daily gets tiresome and the battery acid seems to give some people ulcers. I sometimes drink some of the powdered milk, which is really meant to be in coffee. It is better than nothing to drink at all.
Jan.20, 1945- Mr. Keating, the retired officer who was called back to service is very laid back and lazy. He had been a Chief Petty Officer until he retired. He is now a warrant officer. There is an avocado grove through which we walk to work every morning. He stops each day and prunes out the fruit so that the avocados will grow larger. On one tree, he pruned all of the fruit but one. He wants to see how large it will grow.
Feb.10, 1945-Mr.Keating has been given the assignment to police the grounds and to have the men keep their quarters neat. We find out that he isn't as laid-back as we thought. Even though the men have midnight watches, he makes them stay up all day and work on their quarters and policing the grounds. If this keeps up we will have trouble.
March 1945- Lieutenants and above are now the proud possessors of rooms in our new BOQ, which has hot and cold running water in a common wash room. The bad part is that I share my room with Bob Woolverton. He has taken to drinking late at night at the Officer's Club.
May 1945 - Bob has been telling me that even though he drinks, he knows his limit and never gets drunk. Last night he vomited all over the floor in our room and wouldn't clean it up. Today I requested to be moved in with Lt. Wronski. Bob apologized to me saying that his problem last night was food poisoning.
May 9, 1945 - A warrant Officer named Wentz learned that I don't use my liquor license. He came to see me today with a chit for me to sign which would authorize him to have my weeks allowance of whiskey and wine. He said that he was having guests come to visit. I let him have my allowance for the week. When I told Stan Wronsky about it he told me that Wentz was an alcoholic. He said that he goes to supper then to his room and drinks. He sits on the end of his cot until he passes out, then he gets up in the morning and manages to go to work. He never bathes.
May 10, 1945 - Today I received in the mail a miniature copy of the Deseret News Church Section, in which, instruction was given to service people not to give anyone our liquor or tobacco rations. I vowed to never give my ration away again.
May 16, 1945 - Several days ago, our bus hit a bump. Since that time, Lt. Berg has been complaining about his back. Our building is probably the coolest spot on the island. Today, Lt. Berg came over and visited with me in my room. Lt. Berg hates being in the navy and wants to go home. He told me that he had a scheme worked out so that he can get out of the navy. His father runs a string of clothing stores in Florida. While Mr. Berg and I were talking, Mr. Wentz knocked on my door and gave me another cock-and-bull story of friends coming down from Guadalcanal and he wants to have some liquor for them. He wants my ration again.
I didn't mention his drinking habits. I just told him that I had received information from my church that I shouldn't give my ration to anyone. Wentz offered me two dollars for it. I showed him the newsletter from the church. After he offered me five, he said that I was holding him up, but that he would give me ten dollars. I said, "You don't understand. My Church doesn't want me to give up the ration so it is not for sale at any price." Mr. Wentz cursed and swore and called me a jerk and left in a real huff.
Lt. Berg then said, "Well Gordon, actually the reason I dropped by was to see if I could have your ration." He reached in his wallet and pulled out a twenty dollar bill, which was about one weeks wages at that time. He said, "I'm really in a bind and I need more liquor. Will you sell it to me for twenty dollars?" I said, "Weren't you listening to what I told Mr. Wentz? It's not for sale at any price." Lt. Berg then pulled a card from his wallet and said that when the war was over his father would give me a job as manager of one of his clothing stores. I laughed and told him that I didn't know anything about running a clothing store. He said that I didn't need to know the clothing business, it's just that his father needs one honest man in each store. So Berg didn't want my ration, he was just testing me.
June 1945 - One day in June, I became a hero to the men in our LDS group. We received some supplies among them being Hires Root Beer. This was one time that I used the wine mess. I bought two cases of the small bottles of root beer. Our group held a MIA (Mutual Improvement Association) meeting every Tuesday. After meeting, we had a party. It was a real treat for LDS boys who hadn't had any root beer since leaving home.
When I was at Radio Honolulu, the officers didn't allow the men to use profanity. Here at Guam, it has become very lax. Most of the men are cursing so much that it seemed like every fourth word is a swear word. To go to MIA was like leaving hell and going to heaven. A few of the men brought non-member friends. These men were really impressed by the fine LDS men.
Sunday I wasn't able to go to the LDS group meeting so I went to the Protestant meeting on our base. Chaplain Ries, a Baptist, called for everyone to come to take the sacrament. I was on the third row and all of the men on the first two rows stood up and went up front to partake. I was the only officer in the congregation and didn't go forward. This stopped with me. No one else went forward.
Monday, Chaplain Ries was really hot under the collar. He knocked at my door, came in and told me that he was upset with me for stopping the men from taking the sacrament. He said that I was an officer and should have set an example to the men. Then he went on and said that he had the authority to administer the sacrament for all churches. I asked him who gave him the authority. He said that the Captain did. I said, "Well, the Captain nor the Admiral has the authority to give the sacrament to me or members of our church. Our sacrament can be given only by someone who has been given that authority through the Priesthood."
Although Chaplain Reis was older than I, I believe he recognized that I did have the priesthood. He became dejected and sad at times and would knock at my door to boost his spirits. He couldn't understand how I could be in such good spirits even though I had been overseas for fifty four months. There were other officers who commented on my good spirits. "How can you always be happy", they'd ask. I would answer that if they wanted a change that they could go to Iwo Jima or some other island. Chaplain Ries had only been over for about eight months. Enlisted men who had been over for five months or so would knock on the door looking for sympathy. Most of them were having troubles with their girl friends and wanted to go home to patch up a quarrel. Some had sick relatives and wanted to go home to see them.
Chaplain Ries has taken up smoking. His room is right across the hall from mine and we talked quite often. I said that I had always thought that the Baptists didn't believe in smoking. I tried to persuade him to quit smoking before he got addicted to it. He said, "No. When the war is over and I go home then I'll quit." "What if you are addicted and can't quit?" I asked. Then he said that he would get a job with a different church.
July 4, 1945 - Today I wrote a letter to The Chief of Navy Personnel requesting duty within the continental limits of the United States.
July, 1945 - A group of us were talking about the island hopping that the marines were doing. We all agreed that we had to do something more than to take one island at a time. I said that if we continue this way the war would last another four years. Each island that we captured cost thousands of lives. The closer we came to the homeland, the harder the battles became. I could see that one million U.S. service men could lose their lives before the war was over. It was quite discouraging. It looks as if I can be out here another forty eight months.
Aug. 6, 1945- I had a nice breakfast of fried spam and scrambled dried eggs. When I left the mess hall an officer friend asked me if I had heard the war news. Then he told me that we had dropped an atomic bomb on Japan. I remembered from college that if we could ever smash the atom, that we could harness a tremendous amount of energy. I then told another officer about it. He shuddered and said that a reaction like that could continue to feed on itself and eventually destroy the whole world.
Aug.13, 1945 - Good new today! The Japanese government has agreed to an unconditional surrender. I hadn't realized the amount of damage to lives and property in Japan the bombs had caused. I agreed that they had to be dropped though. We could not accept anything but an unconditional surrender. It wasn't our fault that the bombs were dropped. It was Japan's fault. We are not the aggressor. We are the injured party. There are people who believe that we should have continued a conventional war at any cost rather than to drop the atomic bomb. People used to say the same thing about guns when they were first used in warfare.
Sep. 2, 1945- Today is proclaimed as VJ-Day (Victory over Japan). Today we also decoded a dispatch which instructed all commanding officers to start immediately releasing men from duty and sending them home. We old timers were jubilant about this.
Sep.10, 1945- Several days have passed and the Captain hasn't yet released anyone in accordance with the dispatch of Sep. 2. I casually strolled into the Captain's office and reminded him that he should be releasing men to inactive duty. The Captain said that he couldn't do that. If he did, he would have no command left. I said that he didn't have a choice and I showed him the dispatch, which ordered the commanding officers to start releasing men. I could see that he was going to explode so I saluted him and left. Pretty soon Commander Reagen came to me and bawled me out for going over his head. He said, "Captain Gwaham is vewy distowbed with you. He'll nevew welease you now, because he is so angwey." I knew this was serious, but I couldn't help smiling to myself at his accent.
Sep. 11, 1945- At the close of work today, our group of workers were waiting for our bus. The Captain was standing by his jeep. He motioned to me to come to him. When I got there, he asked me how many officers there were with over fifty discharge points. (This included, the time in service, the time overseas and children.) I told him that Lt. McGeath and I were the only two. The Captain instructed me to get Lt. McGeath from the bus and then we both road to the personnel office with the Captain. He instructed the yeoman to issue us orders for which we thanked Captain Graham profusely.
Sep. 12, 1945- Commander Marianas sent me my orders today which released me from duty at the Joint Communication Activities, Navy 926. I am to be given transportation to San Francisco and there detached from active duty and sent home. I wrote home to tell Kathleen and Mother that I would be coming home, but I didn't know when.
Sep. 20, 1945 - Today, I reported aboard the USS Comet (APA 166) for transportation to San Francisco. As a passenger, I have no duties. I do have to attend any drills such as collision, abandon ship etc. I have lots of time on my hands so I read a book entitled, "Mr. Roberts". There was much vulgarity in it, but a character named Ensign Pulver reminded me of when I was a new young Ensign aboard the USS Oklahoma. I told Lt. McGeath that they could make a good movie out of this book. He said, "You must be kidding, the Hollywood censors would never allow that profanity in a movie." I said, "Leave out all the profanity." We had quite a discussion concerning profanity. He thought that the book was only good because of the bad language. I thought the book was good because of the amusing incidents.
Oct. 3, 1945 - Today I reported at the Headquarters of the 12th Naval District. I met Lt. Coombs at the Separation Center. He was the second officer that I had met aboard the USS Oklahoma. I was elated that I was going home, but Lt. Coombs seemed quite dejected. Just like it was the first day that I met him.
Oct. 6, 1945 - Released to inactive duty and left by train to Salt Lake City.
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| Kathleen and Gordon 1945 |
Oct. 7, 1945 (5:00pm) - I arrived at the train station in Salt Lake City. Today I splurged and took a taxi home. Kathleen met me at the door. She had just put Gordon Lee to bed so she got him up to meet me and she said, "Your Daddy!" He ran over to the mantle over the fireplace and pointed to my picture and said "Daddy". He was now going on 17 months old and I was finally able to see him for the first time.
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| Salt Lake City 1945 |
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