USS WEST POINT MEMORIES

By Ken Johnson.

   I remember going aboard for the first time, she was so big it was kind of frightening for a kid just out of high school.

  One of my first duties was swabbing the deck on Promenade Deck. Pop Kelly was our Division BMIc, twice broken down from C.B.M. He had served on the old battle wagon USS. TEXAS. Pop drank a little therefore he was prone to trouble on liberty. I think Captain Kelly liked Pop and helped him stay out of the brig.

   One time an announcement came over the PA system: "B.M. Kelly, report to the Captain's Office." When Pop left the compartment he told me. "The skipper wants me there just to compare medals." Pop Kelley left the ship about a year later.

   I remember Red Ludwick, BM 1 c in charge of the 4th Division. He would always get up before wake up call. He had an old beat-up bugle he would use for B Deck Aft. Those sailors were up and dressed when the official wake up call sounded.

   I remember the salt water showers when we were allowed only one bucket of fresh water daily. That bucket was meant for bathing, washing clothes, etc. To get extra fresh water you would have to go through an act of congress.

   I remember the football games in the corridors of the living quarters, with an imaginary football, no less.

   I remember one dark night, standing BM of the Watch on the bridge, a couple QM were playing around.        When another Quartermaster or messenger stepped out on the Starboard Wing, he was tackled, only it was the Captain who was tackled. Everyone on the bridge, including the Officer of the Deck got their buts chewed out.

   One night "Oakie" Ellis was the watch messenger. He made a bow tie out of one of the instrument marked, a phosphorous tube. While running around on the bridge with this bow tie, he showed up real nice. He came face to face with the Captain. Needless to say, another butt chewing.

   I remember, after leaving Noumea, New Caledonia, in the middle of the China Sea, we had a destroyer as escort. I was on the sun deck with Joe Everett BM2c, 4th Div. I was approached by one of the troops from the Section Eight quarters on the Prom Deck. This passenger was A1 Heath, my future brother‑in‑law. While visiting with Al, another patient approached me and asked for a light. I told this GI he could not smoke during abandon ship drills. About that time the abandon ship bells rang out. The GI who had asked me for a light dove over the side. It was about 75 feet down to the water. Another GI on the fan tail threw over an inflated Mae West life preserver. The vest had a sea marker, which exploded. I turned in the "man overboard" alarm. We could see the simmer riding the giant swells. The Captain decided to lower a life boat to rescue the diver. This was accomplished while the destroyer circled our ship, now dead in the water. The entire boat crew was pretty well beat up trying to re‑board and get the captain's gig back in its davits. With the high ground swells, it was impossible to get both ends of the rescue boat fastened. The destroyer asked that we cut the boat free. The skipper said, "No way in hell will I cut my boat free so those guys could sink it." Finally we got the boat back aboard and secured. The boat crew went to sick bay to be patched up. The only one who wasn't hurt was Sullivan, the GI who dove over the side. He explained that he saw his brother's face on the water and thought he would go down to check it out.

   I remember the day during gunnery practice. I was on #1‑20mm. My buddy Charlie Ryan was first loader on #2‑20mm. He put on the magazine the first round exploded in his face. The barrel flew right over the life boats into the drink. Charlie spent six hours in sick bay, while the corpsmen removed particles of gun powder from Charlie's face.

   I remember the night coming into Boston when the ship stopped dead in the water, with black smoke pouring from the stack. The troops were just about to settle down to a movie. Needless to say, "all hell broke loose." Rumors were: the engine room was on fire. GI's were running in the dark like scared rabbits. When everything cleared up with our emergency generators on and power back in the engines, I passed sick bay. The corridors near there were littered with beat‑up GI's from running into things in the dark.

   I remember hitting a whale in the Indian Ocean. I was on lookout watch in the forward stack. With my eyes near the binoculars, fastened to a chair that swiveled, the impact caused my eyes to come in direct contact with the binoculars. I thought I'd wind up with two black eyes, but I just had bruised eyes that healed fast. Everything seemed to heal faster back in our younger days.

   I remember those North Atlantic storms. One time during one of these, a few of us were in the swimming pool. Seaman Blanchard, 4th Div., dove in only to find the water had shifted to the opposite side of the pool. He wound up with a nasty cut in his head. Sick bay took care of him.

   I remember when we came into San Francisco after repairs, to Pier 28. The pier was loaded with cases of Atlas beer to be shipped overseas. Our crew decided some of that should come aboard, which it did. I don't remember if we came away clean on that caper or not.

   I remember the bad meat we picked up in Bombay. I think more than half the crew who ate the stuffed peppers got sick from it. I wouldn't touch stuffed peppers for many years following that incident. I guess a few guys never did recover 100%.

   So many lasting memories. Some enjoyable, some not so.