My Carrier War (16 page)

I knew I had been wrong. I’d been ignoring Jean’s concerns. She must have felt that I resented her being there in Norfolk, and my behavior certainly supported her feelings. She must have thought that all I wanted from her was to take her to bed. I had my flying during the day, and I had her in bed at night. Maybe that night, when we went back to our room, she would accept my apology for my behavior.

Later that evening, we four couples all had our first supper together at the boarding house. It was a ham dish with okra. The ham was quite salty and the okra—well, it was slippery and a little slimy. The green salad was good though. We all ate; after all, we were paying for the food. After dinner, two of the couples started a bridge game. I sat listening to the news on the radio. The battle for Guadalcanal was underway. The Marines had landed and were fighting the Japanese.

I bet that’s where we’ll be going. Wonder what it’s going to be like being shot at—dropping bombs on people?

I looked around for Jean, and when I asked, one of the girls indicated that she had gone upstairs. I decided to wait a while before joining her. I wanted to collect my thoughts before facing her. I was ashamed of my behavior, but I needed to convince Jean that I was truly sorry, that I loved her and wanted her with me.

When I got to our room, Jean was in bed. She had left the small desk lamp on for me. I quickly undressed, turned off the light and slipped quietly into bed. I very carefully kissed the back of Jean’s neck and whispered, “I’m sorry, Jean. I’ll see you in the morning before I leave. Love you.” The only sound was Jean’s quiet breathing.
I lay there in the dark, remembering Jean’s comment. “It’s no problem for you, you’re gone all day.”

She was right. My life was centered around the squadron ready room, my flying and my flying buddies. That ready room was like a home for me. One wall was all windows with a view of our flight line and our planes. We each had a leather-covered chair with a small desk-like board that we could move up over our laps to write on. Along one wall was a cabinet holding our navigation chart boards. Of course, we had a coffee-making machine, and doughnuts were always available. The blackboard in the front of the room had the daily flight schedule posted. Safety posters on the walls reminded us to fly safely. Hanging from the ceiling were wooden models of various Japanese planes. We had to be familiar with each of the planes because we were given weekly quizzes on enemy aircraft identification. In the back of the room were our flight gear lockers, helmets, flight suits, gloves, and life jackets, called “Mae Wests.”

It was here, too, the air intelligence officer (AIO) gave us a weekly briefing. We all knew that our forces had landed on Guadalcanal and that the battle was continuing. During the past week, he told us the Japanese had taken control and established a major base at Rabaul, New Britain. They were now moving down the Solomon Islands setting up bases on the islands of Bougainville, Munda, and Guadalcanal. The Japanese goal was to cut off Australia and take control of the sea lanes in the South Pacific. The Japanese forces had started to build a landing strip on Guadalcanal. On September 15, he told us Japanese aircraft had sunk the carrier USS
Wasp
. Planes from Wasp were protecting a supply convoy of ships heading for Guadalcanal. He reminded us that this was secret information. It had not yet been released to the public.

The South Pacific Theatre

I lay there in the dark, sensing Jean’s warm and lush body next to mine.

I know I’ll be going to the Pacific. Our carriers will be needed. We only have three large carriers left in the Pacific. I’ll be leaving my loving Jean. For the first time since high school, she will not be close by, my anchor. I won’t wake her when I leave for the base. We’ll talk tonight.
Maybe I’ll have some good news. I’ve got to find an apartment for her. Maybe the Austins will join us and help pay part of the rent for an apartment. Jean likes Betty. Got to get some sleep...on the schedule for FCLP...I’m doing better. Got some good “Roger Passes” last time.

I awoke to the sound of rain pounding on our one window. I didn’t wake Jean as I dressed and joined the guys for coffee in the dining room of the boarding house. There were even some sweet rolls ready for us. As we drove to the base, we all knew there would be no flying because of the weather. It was a little after eight o’clock when the executive officer came into the ready room.

“Norm, is everyone present? Are all your charges bright-eyed and bushy-tailed?”

“Yes, Sir! All present and accounted!”

Next, we all heard the command, “Attention on deck!” We jumped to our feet as Commander Butts, our skipper, entered the ready room.

“As you were, gentlemen.” We all took our seats as he stood in front of us. We waited, wondering what brought the skipper to the ready room. It was unusual.

Something important? Were we shipping out early?

The skipper turned to the AIO. “Have you told them about
Chenango
? You haven’t? OK, I’ll cover it. Two things, gentlemen. This morning,
Chenango
, our carrier, left for the Mediterranean with a load of Army pilots and their airplanes on board. They will be engaged in the invasion of North Africa against the Germans. Those Army guys will fly their fighters off our carrier and land at captured airfields in Morocco. I know we wish them luck. Don’t worry, though,
Chenango
will be back for us when our turn comes to deploy. One more thing. On September 21, the torpedo squadron will fly to N.A.S. Quonset Point, Connecticut, for torpedo training. We will be dropping live torpedoes without explosive heads. We’ll be there for about a week. For you married officers, you have my permission to live off base during the period we’re at Quonset Point. There’s a very nice hotel in town.” He looked directly at me. “Perhaps some of you might like to have your wives come to Quonset Point. I know Mrs. Butts is coming with me. That will be all, gentlemen.” We all stood as the skipper left the room.

A week at Quonset Point in a hotel for Jean and me! I still have a week before we leave to keep looking for an apartment. I’ll get over to the housing office right now. I’ve got to find a place! I promised Jean.

When all four of us ensigns arrived at the boarding house after work, we were greeted by four very excited wives. They were all on the front porch like a welcoming committee.

“Guess what, Norm?” Jean said. “The skipper’s wife called me. She told me about the squadron going to Connecticut for training. Then she asked me, as the senior ensign’s wife, to let her know if any of the wives living here would want to go to Connecticut. All four of us want to go!”

I took both her hands in mine. “Of course, darling, call her back and let her know.” I knew our very first argument was over. I knew too that I had to be more understanding of Jean’s feelings. Though this may be a great adventure for me, for Jean, it was a fear of the future, of what the war might do to our lives.

That evening after supper, Jean and I took a long walk. The part of Norfolk we lived in was part of the old town. Large, stately homes with spacious lawns, all with large front porches and the customary rocking chairs, lined the streets. Walking along, we could almost imagine horse-drawn carriages clattering along the cobblestone streets. As we strolled along under the old trees, Jean spoke to me about her fears—of my being sent to sea and not returning from the war. She explained to me her deep desire for a child—our child. I responded with my apologies for my behavior and my promise to be more understanding of her worries. I also promised her that we would find an apartment.

We stopped, and I took her in my arms and looking into her green eyes, I told her that we should have a child and that I hoped she would look just like her mother. We were both laughing then as we faced our future together. I knew I would make it home—I had to, we were planning to have a baby!

I felt so relieved about Jean as I drove to the base the next morning. Our relationship was back on an even keel. I had learned a valuable lesson and hoped that never again would I take Jean for granted. I knew that our love had to be nurtured, if it was to last. The stress of the war, of our separation, would offer an even greater challenge. I knew, too, that our decision to have a child would help strengthen our love for one another.

As I drove up and parked at the squadron hangar, I thought that all I had to do now would be to find an apartment for us. That would really help our love affair! Jean hated the boarding house. Maybe when we got back from Quonset Point, the Navy housing office would have something for us.

On 21 September 1942, my log book shows a flight from Norfolk to N.A.S. Quonset Point, Connecticut. Another phase of my training was beginning. The flight schedule had nine of us listed, each flying one of the squadron TBFs to Quonset Point. The rest of the pilots, and some of the key enlisted personnel, were traveling in a Navy transport airplane. Enlisted personnel included the plane captains; and the men who maintained our aircraft, refueling and inspecting each plane before flight. Also on board the transport were the sailors from the squadron ordnance division. These were the men trained in loading our aircraft with ammunition for the guns and bombs. They would be loading the torpedoes aboard our aircraft at N.A.S. Quonset Point for the torpedo training.

We all manned our planes and, one by one, departed for Quonset Point. The weather was clear all the way. Cruising along, I found myself wondering if the wives had departed yet. The skipper’s wife had made train reservations for Jean and the other wives. We were all going to meet at a hotel in Quonset. What a week we were going to have!

The training went extremely well. On our first day, we did coordinated torpedo runs. After takeoff, the nine planes joined up, first in a three-plane group. Each group would have a lead plane with the two other planes flying on the left and right side of the lead plane. The formation would look like an inverted V. Then the three-plane groups would join into a nine-plane group. In Navy terminology—we would have three, three-plane sections and then, after join up, one nine-plane division.

We climbed to an altitude of 10,000 feet and proceeded to the target area. The purpose of this training flight was to learn how to make a coordinated attack on an enemy ship. In this exercise, the enemy ship was a rock formation out in Long Island Sound. At about eight to ten miles from the target, the lead plane of the nine-plane formation gave a visual hand signal by pumping his arm up over his head. That was the signal to the leaders of each of the three-plane sections on his left and on his right. I was leading the section on the leader’s left. When I saw the leader’s signal, I began a shallow diving turn to my left and signaled my two wingmen to spread out from our tight formation. I saw the three planes on the leader’s right begin their descent as they turned to the right. The leader held his course straight ahead as his section began to descend. When I reached a point where the target was bearing about 45 degrees from my position, I made a sharp turn toward the target. I was at an altitude of about 2,000 feet. I could see the other aircraft spread out, all heading for the target—all of us at about 2,000 feet. The planes looked like a spread-out fan approaching the target. We were covering an ark of about 180 degrees. We had the target bracketed! I had my air speed down to 130 knots and was flying at about 100 to 150 feet above the water. Although we were not carrying a torpedo for training purposes, altitude and air speed were critical to insure a good entry by the torpedo. Too much speed or altitude and the torpedo would break upon entry to the water. We had all arrived at the target within 30 to 40 seconds of each other and all at about the same altitude—50 to 100 feet—and all flying toward the target from slightly different directions. The air space around the target was filled with airplanes! All we had to do now was to follow the procedure we had been briefed on before the flight. The three-plane lead section held its altitude crossing the target. My section of three planes lowered its altitude, just skimming over the target. The other section increased its altitude over the target. There was very little space over the target for the nine planes to clear the target and not collide midair with another aircraft. It was hairy!

We joined up for a second coordinated attack, made one more run, joined up again and headed back to the base.

I hope I’ll never have to make a real run. It would be tough flying against an enemy ship, catching heavy AA (anti-aircraft) fire. Low and slow. Of course, using a coordinated attack would increase our luck. All those planes attacking at the same time. If the dive-bombers were attacking too, that would be great. That’s what happened to Torpedo Eight. They were the only target. No dive-bombers. Well, don’t worry about it now. Just be ready if it happens. There’s the field. Hey! We’re going to do a low pass over the runway. All nine of us, in formation! Hot stuff!

That evening, we were with our wives for dinner. The skipper and the squadron lieutenants were with their wives at another table. We had all met earlier in the bar for drinks where we met the senior officers’ wives. I had to explain to Jean that the Navy was rather formal. Senior officers rarely mixed socially with junior officers. The senior people soon left, but the skipper stopped by our table. He congratulated us for our performance on the torpedo training flight and hoped our wives would enjoy this little holiday. I thought for minute Jean was going to kiss the skipper. She seemed so happy to be there with me.