Shipmates on Parade

USS Rankin (AKA-103)

Table of Contents

Year Rank/ Years PDF Name Born Rate Aboard Page Lawson P. "Red" Ramage .... 1909 ...... CAPT ...... 1953-1954 ...... 3 Roland “Drew” Miller ...... 1922 ...... LTJG(MC) .....1946-1947 ...... 5 Elmer Mayes ...... 1925 ...... HMC ...... 1962-1965 ...... 6 Fernando "Fred" Golingan .. 1925 ...... SD3 ...... 1952-1957 ...... 7 Paul Allen ...... 1926 ...... ENS (SC) ...... 1946-1947 ...... 8 Hillyer “Billy” Head ...... 1926 ...... S2C ...... 1945 ...... 13 Melvin Munch ...... 1926 ...... S1C ...... 1946 ...... 17 Tom Jones ...... 1926 ...... S1C ...... 1945-1946 ...... 18 Lucien Trigiano ...... 1926 ...... ENS ...... 1945-1946 ...... 19 Harry Berry ...... 1928 ...... EM3 ...... 1946-1947 ...... 21 Ed Gaskell ...... 1928 ...... LT ...... 1954-1956 ...... 24 Billy M. Weckwerth ...... 1928 ...... MM3 ...... 1946-1947 ...... 25 Dennis Heenan ...... 1929 ...... LTJG ...... 1952-1953 ...... 27 Bob Hilley ...... 1929 ...... ENS/LTJG .....1952-1953 ...... 29 Vern Smith...... 1929 ...... ENS/LTJG .....1956-1958 ...... 31 Marshall Carrick ...... 1931 ...... QM3 ...... 1952 ...... 38 Ed Slomkowski ...... 1933 ...... FN ...... 1952-1954 ...... 38 Gary Montalbine ...... 1934 ...... LT ...... 1961-1963 ...... 39 Howard Hardegree ...... 1935 ...... ENS ...... 1960-1961 ...... 41 Richard B. Lacy ...... 1935 ...... ENS ...... 1958-1959 ...... 43 Paul Beaty ...... 1938 ...... PN2 ...... 1957-1959 ...... 45 Tom Drayton ...... 1938 ...... PN3 ...... 1961 ...... 47 Lee Lathrop...... 1938 ...... SN ...... 1957-1959 ...... 48 John Mazzarini ...... 1939 ...... RM2 ...... 1960-1962 ...... 49 Bob Reynolds...... 1940 ...... ENS/LTJG .....1962-1964 ...... 49 Mike Fulton ...... 1942 ...... LTJG ...... 1966-1968 ...... 51 Alfred J. Roy ...... 1942 ...... RM2 ...... 1962-1966 ...... 54 James Michael Dousman ..... 1942 ...... FTSN ...... 1962 ...... 56 Dave Beeler ...... 1943 ...... ET3 ...... 1963-1966 ...... 58 Harvey McCubbin ...... 1943 ...... RD2 ...... 1962-1965 ...... 59 Greg Kristof ...... 1946 ...... EMFN ...... 1965 ...... 61 Ron Sirois ...... 1946 ...... SM2 ...... 1965-1966 ...... 62 Mark Thomas ...... 1947 ...... IC3 ...... 1967-1969 ...... 63 Lyle White ...... 1947 ...... ENS/LTJG .....1969-1971 ...... 65 John Haddox ...... 1950 ...... QM3 ...... 1968-1969 ...... 67

- 2 - Lawson P. "Red" Ramage – Born 1909 CAPT, 1953-1954

Probably the most distinguished man to serve aboard the USS Rankin was Lawson P. “Red” Ramage, who was her captain from April, 1953 to July, 1954. He is remembered as a good captain, a war hero, and a serious drinker when on liberty.

He’s our only Medal of Honor winner, and one of the most famous heroes of WWII. Wherever submarine exploits are memorialized, you’ll likely see the story of Red Ramage and the USS Parche. Those who attended our 2007 reunion saw it in the Nautilus Museum in New London.

Red died in 1990, and his life is best captured in his obituary from the Washington Post: Lawson P. Ramage, 81, a retired Navy vice who as a World War II submarine commander won the Medal of Honor and two Navy Crosses, the Navy's highest awards for gallantry, has died.

Adm. Ramage served 43 years in the Navy before his retirement in 1970 as commander of the Military Sea Transport Service. He spent much of his career as a submariner, beginning in 1935. He was assigned to as radio and sound officer for the submarine commander of the Pacific fleet when the Japanese attack on December 7, 1941, brought the United States into WW II.

He was assigned his first sea command, the submarine Trout, in June 1942. There he directed war patrols in the Pacific from Aug. 27, 1942, to Feb. 25, 1943. During that time, three enemy ships totaling 19,725 tons were destroyed and another 51,600 tons of enemy shipping, including an , were damaged.

Later on the Trout, he won the Navy Cross for valor in action at Midway, Truk, the Solomons and in the South China Sea. The Trout's crew was also awarded a Presidential citation.

He won a Medal of Honor, the nation's highest award for gallantry, for action in waters off on July 31, 1944. According to the citation accompanying the

- 3 - award, Adm. Ramage, as commander of the submarine Parche, penetrated the screen of a heavily escorted enemy , then engaged the Japanese in 46 minutes of surface combat operations, during which he sank two transport ships and two tankers, and seriously damaged a freighter. In this period the Parche fired 19 torpedoes, 15 of which hit enemy targets.

At one point, with “terrific shellfire passing close overhead,” he sent his men below but remained on the bridge of the submarine. He avoided being rammed by an onrushing Japanese transport by less than 50 feet by swinging the stern of the Parche out of the way as the submarine crossed the bow of the transport, which he then sank with four torpedoes, while being caught in an enemy crossfire.

The Parche's crew received a Presidential Unit Citation, and President Franklin D. Roosevelt personally presented Ramage, then a commander, and six other Army and Navy heroes with the Medal of Honor on Jan. 10, 1945.

He won his second Navy Cross as commander of the Parche from March 29 to May 23, 1944, when he sank four enemy ships totaling more than 30,000 tons.

Adm. Ramage was born in Monroe Bridge, MA. He graduated from the U.S. Naval Academy in 1931 and served aboard before being assigned as a submariner.

His post-World War II assignments included command of a four-submarine operation conducting cold water temperature tests in the . In 1947, he was assigned in Washington as a guided missile specialist in the office of the assistant chief of naval operations.

Later assignments included service on the staff of the commander of the submarine force of the Atlantic Fleet, command of a submarine squadron and then of an attack cargo ship, and an assignment as special assistant to Adm. Arleigh A. Burke, chief of naval operations.

He also commanded a cruiser division in the Mediterranean, was deputy commander of the submarine force of the Atlantic Fleet, then in 1964 became commander of the First Fleet in Coronado, Calif., where he trained forces for service in . Before his final assignment, as commander of the Military

- 4 - Se3a Transportation Service, he was deputy commander in chief of the Pacific Fleet.

Admiral Ramage's decorations also included two Distinguished Service Medals, a Silver Star and a Bronze Star. Roland “Drew” Miller – Born 1922 LTJG(MC), 1946-1947

I was the Rankin's LTJG medical officer in 1946-47. A good friend of mine was Paul Allen, our paymaster. In those days, the ship's nickname was "The Mighty R." Some of the crew modified that to "The Reekin’ Rankin." Soon after the war, The Rankin joined the occupation forces in , which at that time was a mass of twisted steel. After one practice landing at the south end of Honshu in late 1946, we headed off for the China fleet in Tsingtao and stayed through Christmas and New Year’s. Then we evacuated the 7th regiment of the from Tientsin (now Tianjin) back to .

When the Rankin was decommissioned in 1947, I was assigned to Naval Ordnance Test Station, Inyokern, CA, where I stayed until being discharged in 1948. After that, I was a physician at Mayo Clinic for 45 years, specializing in pulmonary medicine. I stayed in Mayo’s ready reserve in a unit and retired as a Captain, MC, USNR, with a small pension.

I’m now living in a 22-story retirement facility owned by Mayo. At 92 years old, I’m possibly the oldest surviving Rankin veteran. I went to the Norfolk reunion in 2004, and to the one in San Antonio in 2013, and I got a kick out of both of them, especially when I reconnected with Paul Allen.

- 5 - Elmer Mayes – Born 1925 HMC, 1962-1965

Elmer Mayes, Senior Chief Hospital Corpsman (retired), was Chief Corpsman aboard the Rankin from 1962-1965.

Elmer was born in Ellwood City, PA, and raised in Canton, Ohio. He graduated from high school in 1943, enlisting soon thereafter at Cleveland, Ohio. After Recruit and Hospital Corps training at Great Lakes, Illinois, he was assigned various duty stations in preparation for assignment to Base Hospital 4 during the Okinawa Offensive in 1945. On returning to the United he was assigned as a reservist to the Navy Reserve Station in Canton, Ohio, while attending Kent State University.

Then he went to U.S. Naval Hospital, before transferring to the , FMF, Camp Lejeune, NC in preparation for duty in , for which he never was called. He transferred to NAS before converting to regular Navy and being transferred to MCS, Camp Pendleton, CA for duty with 1st MarDiv. Then he had recruiting duty in Beckley, West Virginia, enroute to the Optical School at National Naval Medical Center, Bethesda, Maryland. Upon completion of Optical school, he was assigned to the Naval Hospital in Quantico, Virginia, prior to assignment to USS Rankin. While at Quantico, he was promoted to Chief Hospital Corpsman.

While aboard Rankin, in addition to duties in Sick Bay, he provided Ship's Chaplain services at the direction of the Skippers. Daily after Morning Colors, Chief Mayes held prayer over the 1MC, asking for the Lord's protection and safety of the crew.

After a three-year tour on the “Rusty Nuts” he was transferred to AOTU, Little Creek before ultimate assignment to NavOphthalmicLab, Cheatham Annex, Williamsburg, Virginia. Thereafter, he was assigned to MCB 6 at Chu Lai, Viet Nam, followed by a stint at U.S. Naval Hospital, Portsmouth. He retired from Navy active duty on Valentine’s Day 1974.

- 6 - During his tour at Portsmouth, he pastored two churches and was associate pastor at three others. Following Navy retirement, he worked briefly in the optical field before accepting work with the Veterans Administration. He was Hospital Housekeeping Officer at six VA Medical Centers, and was Chaplain to the Staff at each. He retired from the VA in 1994, engaging in church work, and marrying his wife, Ruth. His activities included Nursing Home and Truckstop Ministries, and Associate Pastor until accepting a position as Seniors Pastor in Saint Cloud, Florida.

Following that ministry, became Chaplain to several military veterans organizations: MCB 6 Association, Navy Seabee Veterans of America Island X-4 (DOFL), Casselberry Veterans, Inc., Seminole County Area Veterans Advisory Council (SCAVAC), and finally, last, but not least, The USS Rankin Association.

As a chaplain, Elmer has conducted weddings, funerals, and memorial services; participated in parades; officiated at church services, conducted reunion memorial services, provided encouragement and counseling for the ill and bereaved, and visited in hospitals and homes as needful. Since assuming the chaplaincies, he has traveled over 15,000 miles fulfilling the necessary duties.

He resides in Saint Cloud, Florida with his wife, Ruth Fernando "Fred" Golingan – Born 1925 SD3, 1952-1957

Fernando “Fred” Golingan was born in Carles, on the island of Panay, Philippine Islands. In WWII, the islands were occupied by the Japanese. Fred’s brother Alberto took him to , where he joined the guerrilla forces. He was beaten many times by the Japanese and detained several times for questioning. Just before the end of the war he was detained and told that his head would be cut off at 3:00 PM that day. A Japanese officer who had been educated in the U.S. told Fred that he didn’t like the war and that it would soon be over. He then let Fred go free.

After the war in April, 1946, he joined the U.S. Navy in Manila because his brother

- 7 - Romero told him he should do so. He arrived in aboard the troop ship USS Randall at Treasure Island on June 16, 1946. The next month, a troop train took him cross country to Pensacola, Florida. He was transferred to Norfolk in 1948, where he served with the COMBATCRULANT staff aboard USS Missouri.

He had reenlistment leave in the in 1950, then transfeered to COMNAVMAR, , Marianas Islands. In January 1952, he became a plankowner of the USS Rankin, a ship coming out of mothballs at Alameda, California.

The ship and crew went through precommissioning at Long Beach. Once the ship was commissioned, they transited the Canal to Norfolk and went on a six month Mediterranean cruise. In 1956 they went on another Med cruise, this one nine months long.

In 1957, Fred transferred to the Brooklyn Navy Yard. It was back to Norfolk in 1960 with COMCARDIV 16 staff, aboard USS Randolph, USS Valley Forge, USS Lake Champlain, and USS Intrepid. This duty involved some newsworthy excitement, since one of those ships picked up some splashed-down astronauts from early space flights: first some chimpanzees, then astronauts Gus Grissom, John Glenn, Wally Schirra, and Scott Carpenter.

After serving in the Office of the Secretary of Defense in Washington, Fred was assigned to Naval Air Station Agana, Guam, where he reconnected with many of his Guamanian friends from his first tour of duty there. Then he returned to the States and retired from the U.S. Navy on January 31, 1976 with thirty years of service and a rate of Senior Chief Mess Specialist.

Upon retirement from the Navy, Fred went to work for the American Legion in Philadelphia. He retired in 1989 and worked there part time until December 31, 2000. Not a bad career! Paul Allen – Born 1926 ENS (SC), 1946-1947

My brother and I grew up in during the depression. Our father was an immigrant from who joined the U.S. Navy at the age of 17 and served as a Yeoman first class from 1917-1923, mostly in the WWI North Sea Mine Force.

- 8 - My Dad was a great patriot. He was a charter member of the American Legion and in the 1930s my brother and I were members of The Sons of the American Legion, participating in various parades and ceremonies.

When Pearl Harbor was attacked on Dec 7 1941, I was a senior in an all boys' high school which had a cadet corps, as many did in those days. Because of the draft of all males 18 and older, the Boston high schools graduated all seniors in the class of 1942 on February 1, 1942 instead of in June. At the time, I was only 15 and not eligible for military service, so I went into the as a shipfitter's helper at 58 cents an hour. After turning 16 six months later , I went into a private shipyard as a Navy certified welder, building LCIs and LSMs. I earned $1.03 an hour, which was a lot of money in those days. A year later, in 1943, I turned 17 and joined the Navy as a Seaman 2/c.

After taking a series of exams, I was selected for the V5A program to become a Navy or Marine Aviator after 8 months of further schooling. I was scheduled to go to preflight in 1944. The Navy had too many aviators then, so. I was given the choice of going back to the fleet or continuing in the V12 program as a Line/Deck Officer I chose to go with V12.

After a series of convoluted events at the end of the war, at the age of 19 I was raised from S1/c at the Pacific Ship Repair Command to the rank of Ensign in the Supply Corps. In January 1946, after three months of business and finance training, I was ordered to the USS New Jersey (BB-62) as the Disbursing Officer. My first day there was spent counting the $300,000 being transferred to me as I relieved the LTJG who was going home. That was a lot of money!

Service on a was a very enlightening and disciplining experience for me. I was a 19 year old with a great deal of leadership and financial responsibility. The skipper, the exec and I talked a lot! We paid in cash, and the 2,500-man crew was very sensitive to prompt pay and the servicing of their allotments. The war had

- 9 - ended and people were coming and going by the hundreds every month .

After eight months aboard, the New Jersey was in Bremerton, Washington, moored alongside the Wisconsin, and I was chasing the Admiral's daughter. One day I got orders to report to the USS Rankin (AKA-103) as the Supply and Disbursing Officer. I had five days to get to the Rankin. When my relief arrived two days later, we transferred funds and I was off to join the Rankin, anchored in San Diego. It was a Wednesday in September, 1946.

On arriving in the afternoon I discovered several shocking situations: first, the officer I was to relieve was in the Mental Ward at Balboa Naval Hospital; second, we were getting underway in three days for China. (We were to pick up the remnants of the 7th Marine Division, who were caught in Peking between the communists and nationalists warring for control of the country); third, we had no money on board, and were very short of provisions, clothing and small stores. All this was going on while we were preparing for a 6,000 mile voyage with a crew of 22 officers and 300 men.

On Thursday morning I met with and notified the Exec and the Captain of this dire situation. We all went into a crisis mode to solve our problems through the efforts of Commandant of the 9th Naval District.

Since I had no account with the area Federal Bank or local commercial banks, arrangements were made by message for all Navy ships in the harbor with excess cash to transfer funds to me in exchange for a check. In a couple of hours, moving from ship to ship in our gig, I collected about $40,000, which was enough to get us to Japan, our first stop. On Friday we loaded provisions, small stores and various spare parts and equipage for our 22 LCVPs and LCMS. On Saturday morning at quarters, I was able to report to the Exec "Ready for Sea", which is the motto of the Supply Corps. Our Executive Officer was LCDR Robert Tepper, now deceased. Most of our Department Heads were mustang Lieutenants. (Over twenty years later, in 1967, I met with the Gunnery Officer, LT Jack Ahman, now deceased, when we were both Captains.)

We got underway on Saturday morning in company with three APAs: USS Bollinger (APA-234), USS Sevier (APA-233) and one other. Eighteen days later in Yokosuka, Japan, we realized that we should have loaded twice as many

- 10 - provisions. The shore-based supply department had none to replenish us for several weeks after our arrival. The four ships in our squadron were tied up in flooded drydocks and all lines and dockside maintenance was handled by Japanese laborers for which we had mutual animosity lingering from the recently ended island warfare, our total occupation of their bases, and General MacArthur's control over their government and economy.

When I returned four years later during the , MacArthur was still very much in charge, thank goodness!

Because of diplomatic confusion and hostilities in China and the South China Sea, our mission was put on hold and our four-ship rescue group remained tied up in Yokosuka for about eight weeks. However, we did participate in a drill for what would have been the invasion of Japan had we not dropped the Atomic Bombs. What a disaster! LSTs broached and "enemy forces" decimated us from the rugged heights.

In November 1946 we arrived in a very cold and snowy Tsingtao, China. This was a very dangerous and poverty-stricken city caught in a civil war. I remember seeing homeless families frozen to death in entryways of commercial establishments. One dark snowy night my roommate and I were taking a rickshaw back to the Rankin when we were stopped by two armed commies camouflaged in white. Our driver/puller, who was spitting blood, somehow talked them out of robbing/killing us. We never went out at night after that, except as armed shore patrol.

After a few cold weeks we moved on to Ching Wang Tao a very, very cold port, having 4 to 6 inches of sea ice that we had to break through to anchor. From this port on a clear day you can see the terminus of the Great Wall of China. It also was at the end of a rail line from Peking, from which the Marines and their equipment could be loaded aboard for their homeward journey.

The Rankin’s Captain was a real martinet! In retrospect, he reminded me of Captain Queeg of The Caine Mutiny, complete with flower pots outside his stateroom. He had four stripes and was only 36 years old. He acted as if he had a battleship. A year or so later he USNA class reverted to Commander as the Navy restructured the seniority and ranking system. He gave me a bad time and I decided to leave the Navy when we arrived in the States in January of 1947. There

- 11 - are many humorous sea stories I could tell about this five month experience.

I found out later that the skipper did give me excellent fitness reports. He tried to get me to stay on, as did the Supply Corps detailers in Washington. After three weeks of terminal leave at home I changed my mind, contacted Supply Headquarters, and they offered me a regular Navy Commission with the promise of an advanced degree if my performance warranted. I accepted, and spent the next 26 years at various jobs at sea aboard USS Power (DD-839) and USS Essex (CVA-9), and on staffs in Southeast Asia, heavily involved in the Korean and Viet Nam conflicts.

Most of my career involved support of Navy and Marine aviation, and developing computer-based information systems for Navy applications. On my tour as Director of Management Information Systems, I served alongside Captain W.T. "Barney" Rapp, a former CO of the Rankin who made Admiral while we were together. My three tours of duty in Washington included a two year stint at the Pentagon during which time I married a Navy nurse that I courted during the Korean War in Japan. We had four daughters, the oldest of whom retired as a Commander in 2013. She was a veteran of Yugoslavia and Desert Storm. My bride of 56 years, a decorated veteran of Korea, passed away suddenly in 2009.

Retiring from duty in Washington in 1971 as a Captain with almost 28 years of active duty, I joined the State of Michigan where I served as Chief Deputy for the Department of Social Services and longtime Director of the State's Medicaid Program. Subsequent to that I had a brief position with Price Waterhouse as a Director in their health consultant group. I retired at age 60.

At ninety years old, I am living on the Texas border with my new wife, playing golf and observing our efforts to protect the border. I think the Pentagon is upset with my longevity because it is eating up their pension funds! As I attend my ship's reunions there are no familiar faces that I served with, except CAPT Drew Miller MC USNR (Ret), who was The Medical Officer on the Rankin and a good friend. I kept his ten-gallon container of medicinal alcohol in my safe when not in use! He attended our last reunion at the age of 91 after we had a long conversation and several email exchanges. Enough said.

It was a great set of careers and I vividly remember my experience on the Rankin.

- 12 - Hillyer “Billy” Head – Born 1926 S2C, 1945

To ask a member of the Greatest Generation “Where were you born?” can easily tender the name of a county instead of a city, plus recalling survival stories of dependence on a good crop. World War II veteran Hillyer Thomas Head was, and still is, a member of that farming generation. He answers to his nickname, “Billy.” When asked how “Billy” was derived from Hillyer or Thomas, he stated, “Well, Grandpa Hill Head nicknamed me Billy and the people in the old neighborhood called me Billy, so it stuck. I was in the third grade before my real name caught up with me.” Born in Morgan County, Head was raised in Walton County near the small towns of Jersey and Walnut Grove. He now resides in Newton County. “I was born into a farming family. I still own three tractors and worked up to 300 acres of soybeans until a few years ago. But at 91 years of age, I’ve slowed down a bit.”

“There was seven of us youngins’, two boys and five girls, I still have cows near Jersey. My father often paid debts in cotton and our old house is still standing. Cotton was the main crop, but we also set aside 10 acres for peanuts or milo (sorghum), or potatoes. I contacted malaria in the eighth grade, then tried to catch up on my studies, but just didn’t make it. We did have other courses that were available, like blacksmith and welding, but a house builder offered me a job so I took that. Momma had a fit.”

On surviving the Great Depression: “We did OK. We all contributed in some way when we became of age. My job was going to the cotton gin in Walnut Grove early in the morning. I had to get up at 4 a.m. for the 3-mile trip to be first in line. I’d go to sleep on the cotton bales, but the two mules pulling the load would go straight to the cotton gin and stop right on the scales. One morning the gin manager woke me up right there on the scales …. I thought I’d gone to the wrong place … my daddy would have tore me up!”

- 13 - Dec. 7, 1941: “Pearl Harbor was a sad day for us. Daddy had been in , and he told me, ‘Son, this is awful. Our country is at war and no doubt you’ll be in it.’ Well, my brother was two years older than me, but he got a deferment, but they got me as soon as I was 18 years old. You know, Daddy wouldn’t talk too much about World War I except with three of his buddies. One of them had been gassed while fighting in . We had a little old radio and Daddy was listening to it, that’s how we found out about Pearl Harbor.”

On being drafted: “I went down for induction at Fort McPherson and they asked me which branch of the military I wanted, but I told them it didn’t matter. So, they put me and eight other fellows in the Navy. We shipped out that night for Camp Perry, Va., … it was the first time I’d ever left Georgia. I was tickled about the train ride, but my Daddy was real sad, sad that his son was going to war.”

His first impression of boot camp: “During the first week I thought they were crazy, telling us when to eat, when to sleep, what to do and how to do it, always having to be on time … I stopped on the way to chow one day to play horseshoes and was late, so I missed lunch. Last time that happened! I guess it was sort of like a business, things needed to run efficiently. An old Navy chief was tough on us, but after about three weeks we knew he was teaching us good.”

Advanced training: “I was sent to Fort Pierce, Fla., for training on landing craft, invasion equipment, amphibious craft, that took about six weeks. Then I boarded the Rankin, and stayed on it for the rest of the war.”

Head continued: “Daddy and Momma came to visit me before we sailed. I got permission to show them the ship; Mom came aboard, but Daddy didn’t. He just turned his head away. When I went home on leave, he told me, ‘Son, you won’t be home for a long, long time,’ then walked away towards the barn for a shot of whiskey. He always had a shot of whiskey when he was worried about something.”

Going to war: “We went through the , then steamed up to , got loaded, then set sail for . At Pearl we took on 5,000 tons of ammo for use in the Okinawa Invasion. We were armed with a 5-inch, 40mm Bofors, and 20mm guns. Once anchored off Okinawa, I was assigned an amphibious boat. If it went ashore, so did I; behind a .50 caliber machine gun.”

- 14 - On the raids: “I shot the 20mm quite a bit, but our escorts and beach defenses shot down most of the enemy planes. We’d sit behind the guns all night long. There were a lot of ships on station and we had to wait our turn to unload our cargo. A tug would come out and take us in to unload. Army DUKWs (colloquially called “ducks”) would haul the ammo inland, brand new DUKWs, they’d come back full of bullet holes. Fighting went on all night long, flares going off everywhere, and bullets hitting the ship.”

The old Chief: “We had a salty old Chief on our ship. He’d been in the Navy his whole life. We were standing there talking when a bullet hit the ship … well, this kid standing there with us hit the deck. The Chief said, “No need to duck, son, you’ll never hear the bullet that gets you.” Lots of shells came at us. I was a cook, but I manned a 20mm. I was a good shot and got the best position on a 20mm.”

“We went through two attacks our first night…they liked to come at night, and we’re sitting there with our holds full of ammo, black powder, TNT, but we never got bothered until we made the bay to unload. We only stuck up out of the water about 4 feet…heavy load.”

On Tokyo Rose: “The Japanese propaganda queen, Tokyo Rose, knew about our ship before we dropped anchor. She knew our cargo, what tonnage we carried, where we were …. she really spooked some of the guys. It was rougher in the bay, raids came one after the other.”

A shoot down: “We spotted one high up, circling, the search lights had him lit up like a Christmas tree. About the time he started his dive, the guns from the shore batteries blew him out of the sky. Blowing a plane out of the sky means the parts start falling to earth. The plane’s engine hit the side of the ship, then tumbled into one of the smaller boats tied up next to us. And there was the old Chief saying, ‘you won’t hear the one that gets you,’…. I didn’t care, I found something to hide behind.”

On manning the 20mm: “I stayed on the 20mm, but I really wanted to man a twin 40mm Bofors. Awesome weapon, looked like fun. I know we hit two or three planes, but they usually got shot down before reaching as far as we were. We never got bombed. I remember our own airplanes flying over real low, loaded down with bombs. They’d pull up, drop the belly bombs, then the wing bombs.

- 15 - We were always worried that one of those bombs would fall on us.”

Other dangers: “It was really dangerous when a Japanese plane came in real low. That’s when friendly fire could hit our own ships. Anyway, we stayed there 17 days, made a few other stops, then went back home to load up for the upcoming Invasion of Japan. Thank the Lord, we didn’t have to invade Japan … those two atomic bombs saved millions of lives, American and Japanese.”

The : “We went to Japan but couldn’t make port until all the mines were cleared. We did get ashore at Yokohama, and I remember all the kids were afraid of us. I bought some things for my momma and sent them home. You know, sometimes a soldier knows his general location, but we never did. It was always ‘somewhere in the Pacific,’ on our letters home. Infuriated Momma.”

After the war, Head worked at the Bibb Plant in Porterdale for about a year before returning to the life he knew … farming. “I met a girl from Atlanta that I really liked. She moved into the area, and, well, I really fell for her. We married in 1947. She passed on nine years ago, and I’ve been living by myself ever since. Folks say, ‘remarry’, I was even asked to go on a double-date, but I couldn’t … I loved my wife. No, I couldn’t replace her.”

Head returned to farming acreage about six miles from Monroe. In time he gave up the cash crop for cash cows. He said, “It got big, too, good business, but now it’s in a much smaller way, seven cows and 40 acres.”

Final thoughts: “I enjoyed my time in the Navy. But you know, during the first three days off Okinawa we saw bodies floating by, and I still see that. Don’t even know what bodies they were, Japanese or maybe American, all I know to say is the Japanese hit Pearl Harbor and we hit them right back. The country united, we wanted to serve, but now I don’t think the country could do that again. Young people need to do something, to serve at something, like the old Chief said, ‘I can’t make you do a darn thing, but I can make you wish you had!’ I believe that’s real good advice.”

NOTE: The fight against the Japanese Kamikaze attacks pitted men who wanted to live against men who wanted to die. At sea, the human and material loss was staggering: Roughly 4,900 sailors killed or missing. At least 34 ships sunk, another

- 16 - 368 damaged. Americans lost 763 aircraft; the Japanese 3,500.

Surprisingly, the exact figures are hard to come by. Estimates are the best information offered. What can be said, the men who wanted to live, won.

Reprinted by permission of The Rockdale Citizen, serving Rockdale and Newton Counties, Georgia. Written by Pete Mecca, this story originally appeared on May 21, 2017. Melvin Munch – Born 1926 S1C, 1946

Melvin Munch enlisted in the Navy in 1944 and went through communications training in Hawaii. In August, 1945, he landed with the Marines in the invasion of Okinawa. While on the beach and eating K rations, he said “I can bake better than this stuff, myself.” The C.O. overheard him, asked if he really meant what he said, and made Mel into a baker.

After three months on Okinawa, he got 30 days of rehabilitation leave in the states, then spent six months as the Rankin’s baker as he headed toward discharge and home. His apple turnovers are fondly remembered by many of his former shipmates.

After the Navy, Mel returned to Louisiana and became a Master Plumber.

Melvin and Melanie celebrated their 62nd anniversary on September 25, 2008. They have three children, four grandchildren (one a USAF major), and two great- grandchildren.

- 17 - Tom Jones – Born 1926 S1C, 1945-1946

In May 1944, I graduated from high school in Bridgeville, Penn- sylvania, near Pittsburgh. I cele- brated my 18th birthday in July and the next month I answered the “greetings” letter from Uncle Sam by going to U.S. Naval Training Station Sampson, New York for basic training, a.k.a. boot camp.

After boot camp, I was assigned to the Engineering Division at U.S. Naval Amphibious Training Base, Fort Pierce, Florida, learning about diesel engines for small boats. My Sampson group was being trained as a single complement of men for a ship to be named later.

This group was then sent to Newport, RI. (We spent Christmas in Florida and New Years in Rhode Island!) Along with other personnel from various training bases, we became the original crew of the USS Rankin. We completed sea training in the Atlantic before being shipped to Charleston, SC.

On February 25, 1945, the ship was put in commission and went on a shakedown cruise in with the full crew. Then we went through the Panama Canal to San Francisco, where we were to load supplies for Pearl Harbor. It was here on April 12 that we learned of the death of President Franklin D. Roosevelt.

During the time I was on the Rankin, I was in the Fireroom making sure the water level in the boilers was maintained. Once I experienced the inside of a boiler when it blew a superheater tube. It took three of us all night to repair it. Only one man at a time could enter, with a line secured around his waist and two men outside to pull him out over the baffle plates in case he collapsed from the heat.

After Hawaii, we crossed the International Date Line to the Carolines, Okinawa, , Manila, Luzon, Wakayama Japan and Japan.

- 18 - During one of our cruises we experienced a typhoon, and what a ride it was! With both anchors down, screws turning over 18 knots, we were trying to stay in one place.

While we were unloading ammunition in Okinawa, the weather was so bad we were anchored there for 23 days. During this time we had to conceal the ship by laying smoke around it.

One of my most memorable experiences was that of a kamikaze coming straight at us. Lucky for us, but unlucky for the pilot, he flew over he fantail and landed in the water. He survived. We fished him out of the water; put him in the brig and kept a 24-hour guard on him (mostly to keep him safe from us sailors on board!) He was turned over to authorities in Manila.

If the atomic bomb had not been dropped, we were set to invade Japan in two weeks.

I was discharged in May, 1946. I had gone into the Navy as an innocent 18-year- old and came out a man.

In civilian life, I spent 32 years with Eastern Air Lines in Cleveland, Pittsburgh, Los Angeles and Miami, retiring in 1986. Lucien Trigiano – Born 1926 ENS, 1945-1946

I was born in Easton, PA in 1926. My parents owned a corner grocery store where I worked as a kid. At an early age, I knew I wanted to be a doctor. When WWII started in 1941, I was a sophomore in high school, in the band and orchestra and playing on the football and baseball teams.

Every 18-year-old was required to register for the draft, and I realized that the more education I had, the better would be my chances of choosing the service branch I wanted. So on Thanksgiving Day 1942, I applied for admission to Ohio University. After much discussion, the principal and superintendent of schools let

- 19 - me drop out of high school to attend the university. So off to Athens, Ohio for my first time away from home.

I contracted polio in the summer of 1943. I was unable to walk and could not attend classes for several weeks. With time and many trips to the gym my physical status improved and in December 1943 I was accepted into the Navy’s V- 5 Naval Aviation Cadet program.

Active duty started at Milligan College in Tennessee, where I played baseball and football. In September 1944, I was transferred to Texas Christian University in Fort Worth. Football was in full swing, and I became a member of the team. As a result, I was a member of the 1945 TCU Cotton Bowl team!

In February 1945 the Navy sent me to Princeton University for pre midshipman school. From there to Northwestern University Midshipman School, where I was commissioned an ensign at the ripe old age of 19.

From there to Fort Schuyler, New York, to await assignment to school for Underwater Demolition. On August 15, 1945 I was in Times Square in when the news came that Japan had surrendered and all military personnel should return to their bases. The next thing I knew my orders for Underwater Demolition were cancelled and I was assigned to the USS Rankin, which was somewhere in the Pacific at the time.

After a few days at home in Pennsylvania, I boarded a United Airlines plane for San Francisco. It took 24 hours to get across the U.S. because the DC3 was slow and stopped at many towns along the way. Two weeks after arriving in San Francisco, the Navy located the Rankin and I was put aboard the U.S. Army ship SS Mormacdove for transport to the Philippines.

I landed in Manila and took a narrow gauge railroad to Lingayen Gulf in northern Luzon. I spent a month there, sharing a tent with Bill Daley, an All-American football player from the universities of Minnesota and Michigan.

I returned to Manila and joined the Rankin on November 7, 1945. Exciting things quickly began to happen—on Christmas Eve, the ship’s medical team did an emergency appendectomy at sea. One week later on New Year’s Eve, they did another one! Appendectomies were serious operations in those days, and to have

- 20 - one done at sea was quite exceptional.

I remained aboard the Rankin until July 19, 1946, when I was discharged to the Naval Reserves.

I went back to Ohio University and graduated from Temple Medical School in 1952. I practiced rehabilitation medicine in Johnstown, Pennsylvania until moving to San Francisco in 1973. I had gotten a pilot’s license in the 1960s, and in San Francisco I developed a consulting practice that enabled me to fly to every state including and Hawaii. Life was good, and I had a seven passenger plane with pressurization and all the latest navigation gear, with medical licenses in Pennsylvania, New York, Oklahoma, Nevada and Hawaii. I lived in Las Vegas for 11 years, returning to Easton in 2007.

I am now retired but still active. I’m on the Board of Visitors at Temple University Medical School and belong to the Raleigh Tavern Society of Colonial Williamsburg. I’m 87 years old, but still mow three acres of grass!

I’m grateful that I can still write emails, speak to my friends, and have close contact with all that I hold dear, including, of course, AKA-103. Harry Berry – Born 1928 EM3, 1946-1947

I come from a long line of sailors. My dad, Howard T. Berry Jr., served in the Navy during World War I, and my two older brothers, Bud and Bill, served in World War II. I myself officially joined the Navy in February of 1946. I had previously joined up, but did not take the oath until then.

Since I served during the time of national emergency following World War II, I hold a World War II discharge. I also hold a discharge from later years, when I was called back in 1950 during the Korean war.

- 21 - I enlisted in Philadelphia, PA when I was 17 and a Senior in school for the Electrical trade. On the advice of my father, I stayed in school until I had enough credits to graduate.

After reading about Billy Weckwerth in the Rankin newsletter, was inspired to relate some of my own experiences while on the Rankin. Rather than rewriting the history of our trip to Japan, I encourage you to read about Billy. I certainly can vouch for Billy's story, for I was there!

I will pick up my story during the time of the typhoon. We had a brief power outage, and the Rankin was powered by DC current. The ventilating motors did not start automatically when power was restored, so they had to be restarted manually. I worked my way along the lifeline to the air shaft ladder, and had to go down the ladder with one hand on the top and one on the bottom, so I would not be thrown either up or down the ladder as the ship plunged into the high waves. After the typhoon, we experienced some unusually calm seas, with the beautiful sun out. It was truly a relief after experiencing the typhoon.

We headed back toward Japan, then tied up to the dock at Yokosuka. If you look at the 1946 video on the Rankin website, you can see that an officer recorded some of the damage that the ship incurred from the typhoon. You can also see that upon our arrival in Yokosuka, there was a car that was unloaded from the ship onto the docks. I was asked by one of the officers to drive his car off of the dock.

On October 26, 1946, we sailed to Tsingtao, China, where we anchored until December 10th, 1946. While we were on liberty there, my friend and shipmate Al Brewer and I (we worked in the battery locker together) went out to the colony. They had some disabled people, as well as a lot of children there. Al had a few chocolate bars that he tried to give out to the kids. Boy, did we get mobbed by the kids there! We almost got into trouble, because we were playing around under a picture of Chiang Kai-shek. A couple of people got upset about that, so we backed off.

We then sailed to Northern Chinwangtao, China. While there, I got into another not-so-little episode. We were about to celebrate Christmas, and it was December 24th. We had gone out and picked up a small Christmas tree. I decided I wanted

- 22 - to put some lights on the tree, so I went up into the boatswain's locker where the light bulbs were stored. While up there looking around, an Ensign came in. We didn't acknowledge each other, and I don't know whether he saw me or not. Apparently he did not see me, because while I was still looking around for the light bulbs, he left the locker and locked the hatch behind him. There I was, on December 24th, locked in the boatswain's locker, and nobody knew I was there!

I tried several methods of trying to get someone's attention. I disconnected the submersible outlet and dropped a line down there and splashed it in the water. There were some Chinese people working on the ship and they were walking down the pier. While they made all kinds of Chinese sounds and hollering, laughing and kidding, it was to no avail. They did not notify the officer of the deck, so I abandoned that idea. I then took the fire extinguisher and shot that down the submersible pump outlet and foamed up a little salt water. The Chinese workers did the same thing again, laughing and pointing, and that sort of thing, but sill nobody thought about telling the officer of the deck. So I abandoned that idea as well. I needed to do something here. Being an electrician, and having stood many hours on watch on the main board, I decided to take apart the light fixture and grounded it. I then tapped out SOS on the grounding system and figured that the guy on the main board would see it. I believe the guy on duty was named Ray Roberts. He saw something was happening, and at first he didn't know what it was. He called for the First Class and the Chief. They looked at the flashing lights and then decided to track down where it was coming from. They got out the prints to find out what distribution box it was coming from and what spaces it serviced. They finally did track it down to the boatswain's locker, then they came down and opened the hatch. I was rescued! That was a happy time for me— because of the holiday routine I could have been stuck in there all weekend. Since the next day was Christmas, I would have missed out on a lot of festivities, including the Christmas dinner and a movie night in the cargo hold. I was not only happy, but proud of myself for getting rescued that way.

After my discharge, I went to work at General Electric Co. I was later recalled back into the Navy in 1950, at the start of the Korean war. When I got out of the Navy the second time, I worked for the New Jersey Bell Telephone Company for the next 31 years. I started out "up the poles and down the holes". After a couple of

- 23 - years, I was transferred into the telephone exchange. I worked on maintaining the automatic dial equipment. Later on I was promoted into management and taught others.

As of September 2016, I was married for 63 years to my lovely wife Helen. We have three children, ten grandchildren and five great grandchildren (so far). The Lord has really blessed us! I still golf occasionally, and go bowling several times a week. I have much to be thankful for! Ed Gaskell – Born 1928 LT, 1954-1956

CDR (Ret.) Ed Gaskell is a frequent sight at our reunions, usually seen in his impeccable uniform while making toasts at the banquet, or hanging a 48-star U. S. flag that formerly flew from Rankin’s starboard yardarm. He’s had an interesting life and career—so have his daughter, an archaeolo- gist in Virginia, and his son, a tennis pro in Baton Rouge.

Ed grew up in Paris and Normandy, France, where his father was an executive with United States Lines, the famous operator of ocean liners and merchant ships. He was educated in France and the U.S., ultimately graduating in 1950 from the U. S. Merchant Marine Academy at Kings Point, New York. After graduation, he spent four years on United States Lines cargo ships to Europe, Korea, and , then two years as a LTJG and LT aboard USS Rankin as 1st Division Officer and Navigator. With his background he was an exceptionally well-qualified junior officer.

He left the Navy and began a civilian career in public relations, where he produced motion pictures for Union Carbide and the Equitable Life Assurance Society.

Somewhere along the way the Navy recruited him for a reserve intelligence

- 24 - officer program, in which he diligently served for 25 years.

Ed recently moved into the Vinson Hall military officers’ retirement community near Washington. The staff there kept bugging him to enroll in one of their fitness programs, and he kept telling them he didn’t need to, because he was in pretty good shape already. To show them he meant what he said, last September he signed up for the “Run with the Warriors” 5K charity race. He ran with a contingent of “wounded warriors” and other youthful athletes. At age 83 he was the oldest person to run the race, and the oldest one to finish.

Needless to say, management is no longer bugging him about enrolling in their fitness programs. Billy M. Weckwerth – Born 1928 MM3, 1946-1947

Billy spent a year on the Rankin in 1946-47. He enlisted on April 6, 1946 and joined the Rankin as a Fireman Second Class in July (note the Fireman stripe around his left shoulder). Here’s his story in his own words:

I turned 17 in August, 1945, the same month that the atomic bombs were dropped on Japan. I wanted to join the Navy, and in December 1945 I was sent from my home in Casper, WY to Denver for a physical exam, which I failed to pass because they detected albumin in my urine. I returned to Casper and sometime during the next month or so I decided to go to Long Beach, CA to be with my Dad and his family for a time. While I was there I again attempted to join the Navy and was sent to Los Angeles for the physical exam. This time I was not rejected, and on April 6, 1946 I was sworn into the Navy and sent to the US Naval Training Station San Diego, where I underwent nine weeks of basic training.

During that time we were asked what area of service we thought we would like to pursue. I had the desire to go into underwater demolition but was steered toward the mechanical area and below decks training in the area of engine room and

- 25 - boiler room.

On completion of basic training I graduated from the Training Center with the rank of Fireman 2nd Class. On June 26, 1946, I transferred (by troop train) to Treasure Island Naval base to await transfer to a ship. On July 10, 1946, I was sent to Mare Island Naval Base at Vallejo, CA where I boarded my first ship, the USS Rankin (AKA 103). I was assigned duty in the engine room. On July 23, 1946 the Rankin went to sea for a "shakedown" cruise (after having undergone some repairs while at Mare Island) then sailed on to San Diego. My first job aboard the Rankin was to watch the bilge pumps in the lowest level of the ship. Later I was assigned to the evaporator watch, making fresh water for the ship.

After anchoring in San Diego harbor, we went through a few weeks of amphibious training, loading and offloading LCM and LCVP landing craft off Silver Strand at Coronado Island. On September 7, 1946, the Rankin joined a convoy of other ships and got underway for Japan. During the journey we went through a severe typhoon that lasted about four days and nights. There was a rumor that the merchant marine ship, the Empire State, sunk with all her crew about four hours ahead of us.

One of my duties was to inspect the bearing wells that lubricate the shaft that turns the ship's screw. To gain access to them, I had to first go on deck, then aft to the Fantail where the hatch to the shaft alley was located, then below by ladder to the shaft alley which ran from the engine room bulkhead aft to the screw.

During the storm the deck crew had installed an additional emergency lifeline which was inboard from the main lifeline about four feet, for extra safety on deck during the storm. Prior to going aft to take care of my duties, the Chief Machinist Mate had loaned me his flashlight and on my way I lost my footing and slipped through the first lifeline. Fortunately, I recovered by the time I reached the next lifeline, but unfortunately, I lost the Chief's flashlight. He chewed me out royally for the loss when I returned to the Engine Room without it.

We arrived in Tokyo Bay on September 22, 1946, and after a lengthy time at anchor, we moved into Yokosuka, where we tied up at docks previously occupied by the Japanese fleet. We remained in Yokosuka, where we frequently went to sea for boat maneuvers, and underwent some repairs to the ship. We also had

- 26 - lots of liberty, allowing us to explore the towns and the area in and around Yokosuka

During the time we were docked in Yokosuka some of the crew was sent by train to Nikko, a beautiful park in the mountains, for several days of rest and recreation. As we travelled through the Japanese countryside large areas were bombed out and much of it appeared to have burned. At first we thought it to be the site of the A-Bomb that ended the war, but we later found out that the destruction was caused by the many Allied bombing missions.

We all hated to leave this wonderful place of Nikko, but we returned to Yokosuka and on October 26, 1946 we sailed for Tsingtao, China where we anchored and remained until December 10, 1946, when we sailed for Chinwangtao, China. On December 12, 1946 we docked there until January 4, 1947 when we sailed for the States and moored at Navy Pier in San Diego harbor on January 25, 1947.

After the Navy, Billy worked in oil refining, and as a firefighter. Later on, he was the Wyoming State Fire Marshal and Director of the state’s Department of Fire Prevention and Electrical Safety. Dennis Heenan – Born 1929 LTJG, 1952-1953

Denny Heenan started his Navy career via OCS after graduating from the University of Michigan. His first assign- ment was on the newly- recommissioned USS Rankin in 1952, where he served as boat officer and navigator.

Executive Board member Jill Breslau, then just a little kid, recalls him visiting her home with some of the other junior officers. She remembers her father, Max Breslau, then the Rankin’s chief engineer, telling her about Denny’s great talent for music.

One of his brother officers from those days remembers a 23-ship landing at

- 27 - Onslow Beach, NC. Denny was in charge of the Line Of Departure from H-Hour at 0600 until early afternoon, when he was relieved and returned to the ship. Things soon fell apart at the LOD, and the Admiral ordered Mr. Heenan back into the fray to get them straightened out.

Somebody must have seen some talent in the eager young officer, because his subsequent assignments included three ship commands and two Navy-sponsored scholarships, plus a tour at the Naval War College.

In the 1950s, Denny was Executive Officer of USS Courtney (DE-1021), then commanded by CAPT John Exum, who later commanded the Rankin and two other ships. John remembers him as the best exec he ever had.

Denny was C.O. of USS Joseph K. Taussig (DE-1030), USS Talbot (DEG-4), and USS Albany (CG-10). While on shore duty, he earned a M.S. in Management at the Navy Postgraduate School and a Ph.D. in Public Administration at American University. While at American, he had a fellowship at the Brookings Institution, where he was responsible for conducting seminars in federal government operations for senior business executives. He also led seminars on private enterprise for super-grade civil service personnel. Before retirement, he had numerous assignments in the Washington area.

After his discharge in 1977, Denny did consulting work in Navy planning for Vitro Laboratory and Matrix Corporation. Then he taught management subjects in the Graduate School at George Mason University. While on campus, he was appointed Director of the Small Business Development Center for the State of Virginia.

He later moved to Florida and embarked on a new career as a musician. For many years he played keyboards at clubs and restaurants in Virginia and Florida.

In retirement, he lives in The Villages, Florida and Smith Mountain Lake, Virginia. His granddaughter is noted gymnast Katie Heenan (you can find her on the Internet).

- 28 - Bob Hilley – Born 1929 ENS/LTJG, 1952-1953

My Navy career started in Septem- ber of 1946, with an NROTC scholarship to Georgia Tech, which was then called Georgia School of Technology. This came with a requirement to serve a four year tour after graduation. What I did not know was that I had to be 17 years old on September 1. I didn't turn 17 until September 3, so I lost the scholarship.

I did stay in the program, and received $0.90/day for my last two years. The quarterly tuition at Tech at that time was $57.50 for in-state students (today, it is $3,050). I graduated with a degree in mechanical engineering, and started my business career with General Electric Co. on an engineering training program. I tested aircraft gas turbines in Cincinnati , Ohio until I received orders in June 1951 to report to San Diego as an newly minted Ensign for amphibious training.

At this point, I decided to marry my longtime girlfriend, Barbara Anne Barber. I think one of her reasons for marrying me was to ditch the name Barbara Barber, which got her a lot of double takes. It took us nine days in my 1939 Ford business coupe to get to California. On the first day of training I had to walk in the surf in my brand new expensive shoes. I had never in my entire life owned shoes that had cost as much.

After training, I reported to the USS Calvert (APA-32), which was then in Japan. Barbara went back to Georgia, and I sold my car to a friend who had also been in NROTC at Georgia Tech. I believe he had been assigned to USS Bayfield (APA 33). Several of us young Ensigns had been assigned to ships in Japan, and we all traveled to San Francisco to wait for our transportation, an escort carrier. We spent a hell of a week there, waiting for it to get out of the yard. It was a real rust bucket, but we had no duties, so it was a nice easy cruise to Japan.

Almost as soon as I reported to the Calvert, we set sail for the U.S. After several

- 29 - months, I was assigned to the Rankin as the Calvert went to Hawaii for repairs. I heard later that they stayed there six months and some family members accompanied them. Barbara came back to San Diego, and we enjoyed some time there before the Rankin set sail for Norfolk. I had bought a 1949 dark blue Ford convertible with wide whitewalls, white top and red seats. After making the down payment, I borrowed money from shipmates until the next payday. The loan was for 24 months at $78.60/month. I am good at remembering numbers.

My duties were in the engine room, and I was also a boat officer, and by now I was an LTJG. There was an incident in Goose Bay, Labrador that I will never forget. I was assigned to take the captain’s gig to a carrier to get the mail. The weather turned really bad and spray was freezing on the bow. By the time we finally found the ship, the waves were so high that we were almost eye to eye with men on the weather deck, and then we would drop way down. One of the crew got up on the bow to hook the boom hook to the ring on the boat sling. He failed several times, so I told him to let me try. I got it the first time, but fell into the water between the boat and the ship. Somehow I was able to get back on that ice-covered bow before being crushed. The doctor gave me some grog after we got back aboard the ship.

The officers decided to go cod fishing in Labrador. We started using bait, but found that we could catch them without bait. We stacked them on the deck like cord wood. The bad part was that we ending up eating some cod that was not very well prepared.

When the ship was in Gibraltar, three of us bought pellet pistols; I still have mine today. When the ship was bridged with several other ships, we used them to shoot out light bulbs strung on the mast of the next ship. The OD on that ship really looked funny when the lights kept breaking.

After my two years in the Navy, I rejoined GE and worked in various jobs in several locations until 1964, when a friend and I started a manufacturer’s representative business. This evolved into a small engineering firm, which has downsized to just me and one of my sons. We sell air pollution equipment and fiberglass reinforced plastics products, such as tanks for corrosive service. One of our largest projects was supplying a fiberglass lighting arrester tower for a launch

- 30 - pad at Cape Canaveral. It is one of the large towers you see around the pad when you watch a launch.

I still do a little work for the company, but I try to play tennis every day with my octogenarian friends. My wife died 10 years ago, but I have a lady friend that lives two blocks away. I robbed the cradle, since she is only 72. We cruise a lot, but the food and accommodations are somewhat better than they were on the Rankin. Vern Smith – Born 1929 ENS/LTJG, 1956-1958

Vern Smith joined the Navy as a lowly high school dropout in 1947. He joined the Rankin as a lowly Ensign in 1956. He retired from the Navy as a not-so-lowly Rear Admiral in 1989. The Gator Navy was quite important in his career.

I was Born 6 November 1929 in Bay City, Michigan and raised on a small farm in Midland. Delivered newspapers on horseback. Learned the value of hard work quickly but was behind the curve on education.

I finished the 10th grade and started the 11th, but in 1947 after a confrontation with a teacher quit school and joined the Navy.

The last thing I wanted was more school but my entrance test scores made me one of three in our company to go on to a service school. After almost a year in airman "P" and Aviation Radioman school I became an ALAA (Aviation Electronics Man Apprentice, E-2).

From March 1949 to August 1950 I was assigned to VR-44 overhauling R5Ds which were involved in the Berlin Airlift—mostly hauling coal.

I worked the evening shift and actually did some work, but for the most part I played fast pitch softball five days a week. Three days Navy league and two nights civilian league. Consequently I remained an E-2.

From April 1950 until August 1952 I was assigned to the flight test section of the overhaul & repair group of NAS Corpus Christi, Tex. I made E-3 on arrival through

- 31 - a cooperative Yeoman who accepted my story that I was advanced just before my departure from VR-44 but they must have forgotten to enter it in my record. I flew in all types of aircraft R5Ds, R4Ds, PB4Y2s, TBMs, SB2Cs to name a few. I continued playing ball but did not travel with the team. in November 1950 I married my on again off again sweetheart from the 7th grade.

In those days the Navy did not recognize marriage unless you were at least an E-5 or an E-4 with 7 years' service. in March of 1952 my first child was born and I got serious about advancement, making E-4 shortly thereafter.

In August 1952 I was assigned to the Naval Operating Base Argentia, Newfoundland, as a CW/voice operator at the Naval Communications Station. My family could not accompany me because the Navy did not recognize our marriage. At the first opportunity I made E-5 and became eligible to bring my family up, but I was a “left arm rate” and a “right arm rate” could bump me on the housing waiting list. I eventually found housing on the economy. Two 8' by 8' rooms with a semi-attached outhouse, a 55 gallon drum for running water, and a window box for an ice box. One hundred twenty-eight square feet of living space is tight when you consider I worked 3 days, 3 evenings, 3 mids and 3 days off. I now have a 140 square foot storage shed and my kids and grandkids wonder how we ever made it. I made AL1 at the first opportunity and AT1 (Aviation Electronics Technician) on the following exam. LCDR Rapp, later CO of USS Rankin, was my department head at this time. Shortly before detachment we moved into a condemned Quonset hut on base.

From September to the end of 1954, I was stationed with Utility Squadron 4 at Chincoteague, Va. VU-4 was a target towing squadron and I was Shanghaied to Target Drone School, El Centro, California. Detached within 24 hours of notification. After three months of learning how to launch, fly, recover and crash target drones our ten-man unit was assigned to Utility Squadron Six, Norfolk, Va.

In 1956 the OinC of my unit talked to me about the Seaman-to-Admiral program. I wasn't interested but he put the pressure on and the squadron XO practically ordered me to take the fleet-wide competitive test. First was the physical. The height requirement was 5'6". I was 5'5¾". The medical exam physician sent me back to the squadron without any further examination, marked “Failed Physical.”

- 32 - My XO, LCDR Anderson, was a Naval Academy grad where the height requirement was 5'4". He was actually about 5'2". LCDR Anderson took me back to medical and ordered the doctor to finish the exam and request a medical waiver for me.

Some months later the list for OCS came out and I was not on it. A few weeks passed, and a second list came out with four or five of us who had gotten medical waivers.

I saw LCDR Anderson in 1968 or 1969 in Vietnam. He was XO or OPS Officer on a seaplane tender. He was still a LCDR.

From April 1956 - August 1956. Officers Candidate School, Newport, Rhode Island. Commissioned as an Ensign August 2nd 1956.

From here on it is a different career and a much different life.

8/56 to 2/58. USS Rankin. This ship formed my future as an officer. First, I was lucky because there were Warrant Officers and Limited Duty Officers in the wardroom, so being an ex-enlisted man was not a negative.

Second my first Commanding Officer was Wally Wendt—tough as nails, and later four star CINCUSNAVEUR. He would have been CNO but for Admiral Zumwalt who was more personnel oriented.

Thirdly, my second Commanding Officer was John Harllee. He was people oriented to a fault. Unfortunately I was his Public Affairs Officer, and God help me if a new crew member’s picture was not on our famous quarterdeck picture board the day after he reported aboard. The same applies to the birthday party celebrations—each crew member had a birthday cake and dinner with the Captain on his birthday. We all cringed at the summons for the Division Officer or Department Head and sometimes the Executive Officer to report to the Captain’s cabin to answer for any complaints the individual had about the chain of command. I learned the importance of caring for your men, but also the foolishness of destroying the chain of command.

Fortunately I had an Executive Officer named Paul Hopkins. He saved my bacon more than once. Harllee was so upset with me that he refused to attend my piping over the side on detachment. For those who don't remember Paul, he was

- 33 - a big man and one of the many times I screwed up he picked me up and shook the devil out of me and said if I screwed up again he would “wear my guts for a necklace.” I loved this man. He put me in charge of his family and to this day I look after his widow, Ruthie, who lives in Vero Beach, Florida.

While in OCS I learned that there were two areas of a Naval Officer’s life that I was scared of: engineering and gunnery. I requested an assignment in either, and was then sent to an engineering school for officers.

4/59 to 7/60. After four months of engineering school I was assigned to the USS Ault (DD-698) as chief engineer. Here I encountered the “better than I” culture. Ex-enlisted were not all that welcome and I got loaded with most of the collateral duties that could be assigned, even though I had by far the largest department. Special events: we opened the Saint Lawrence Seaway to the Great Lakes—had over 100,000 attend an amphibious landing in Milwaukee—and we were the first U.S. ship to enter the Black Sea since World War II.

8/60 to 5/62. Commanding Officer USS Rockville (EPCER–851), a patrol craft rescue converted to an experimental research ship, home ported at the Naval Research Lab in Washington, DC.

We carried a research team of 8 to 10 scientists from NRL and did all sorts of weapons testing—sonar research and ocean bottom core sampling—mostly in the .

5/62 to 6/64. OPNAV staff, OP-943 where I was head of the Communications Procedure Unit. Most notable accomplishment was an internal memo on how to operate the coffee mess. A very demeaning assignment after being a Commanding Officer with my very own parking space, to one having to park in the West Parking lot at the Pentagon, 1.1 miles from the office.

During this Pentagon assignment I attended George Washington University night school, earning 30 semester hours of credit. More on this later.

7/64 to 6/66. Commanding Officer USS Avenge (MSO-423). I was a LT in a LCDR

- 34 - billet on the division flagship with a CDR that had never been away from his family and didn’t even know how allotments worked. He finished a 30-year career with one assignment separated from his family. We participated in the Cuban Blockade.

6/66 to 6/68. After years of night school and correspondence courses, I acquired the necessary 45 semester hours of credit to apply for the five term program. You get three terms on your own and then apply for the program and if accepted the Navy will put you in a program at a university to get the remaining five terms. I was selected and assigned to the Naval Post Graduate School at Monterey, Cal. Unfortunately my credit hours were in business administration and commercial law. They assigned me to the engineering curriculum with an advanced standing of eight credit hours. Therefore I needed 112 credit hours in engineering with all the necessary labs for EE, physics, chemistry etc., all to be completed in two years. Made it with BS in engineering science but with a terrible toll on family life.

7/68 to 2/70. CO, USS Washoe County (LST-1165). CAPT John Adams, the surface placement officer from BUPERS told me I could have command of a destroyer out of any East or West coast port upon graduation. Again the ring knockers came out. I hadn't paid my dues with enough time in destroyers and therefore had to serve as an XO. I declined the offer and took command of the Washoe County out of Yokosuka, Japan. Spent most of the next 18 months in Vietnam in support of Market Time operations and with the Swift Boats in the Bode River and off the Cau Mau Peninsula with 4th Corp.

3/70 to 12/71. Defense Communications Agency, Washington, DC. The greatest collection of incompetents in the world, with the possible exception of the . Enough said.

2/72 to 1/74. During this time I was selected for a graduate program in computer science at Washington State University. I was about to accept the assignment when I was offered command of the USS Harlan County (LST-1196). Needless to say I took the assignment back to sea. A wonderful assignment with lifelong ties to Harlan County, Kentucky.

- 35 - 2/74 to 6/75. Stashed at COMPHIBLANT for 3 months, then a year at the US Army War College, Carlisle Barracks, Pennsylvania. I majored in bass fishing and pheasant hunting. Also participated in a study that concluded that we would be a Spanish speaking nation by 2050. It may well be happening sooner.

7/75 to 7/77. Director of readiness and evaluation at the Naval Telecommunica- tions Command in Washington, DC. No one was quite ready for an independent department to tell them how poorly they performed. I was lucky to get out of there alive.

7/77 to 7/79. Executive Assistant and senior aide to the Director of Command, Control and Communications OP-094. A tough assignment which I was ill prepared for but after two years of 14 to 15 hour days working for a three star and one two star admiral I survived.

1/80 to 11/81. After three months at the nuclear power school Senior Officers Material Readiness class in Great Falls, Idaho, I assumed command of the USS Mount Whitney (LCC-20). Mount Whitney was the flagship of Commander Second Fleet, Commander Amphibious Group Two, and Commanding General of the Second Marine Amphibious Force. Three flag officers on one ship. Talk about a headache. Anyway I survived the experience.

12/81 to 6/83. Commander Amphibious Squadron Six. During this 18 month period I probably had less than eight weeks in home port. Deployed and redeployed. Ended up in , only to be directed to proceed at best speed into the Mediterranean for duty as Commander Amphibious Force U.S. Sixth Fleet. Ended up landing our Marines in Lebanon late 1982. After approximately five months as Commander U.S. Forces Lebanon, I was selected for flag rank at the age of 53. Probably the oldest flag select ever.

7/83 to 8/86. Commander Naval Telecommunication Command. In charge of naval communications around the world.

9/86 to 6/88. Commander Amphibious Group One, and Commander Amphibious Forces Seventh Fleet, and Commander Amphibious Forces Western Pacific. Many

- 36 - stories, but am getting tired of telling stories. My biggest challenge was command of 68 ships and over 200,000 people in an amphibious operation in South Korea.

7/88 to 7/89. Vice Chief of Naval Education and Training Command. My more important duties were NJROTC, NROTC, and Recruit Training Centers. A wonderful experience from a kid who could not swim to an Admiral in charge of the whole thing. Talk about the American dream! Does it get any better than this?

7/89 to Present. After retirement I worked for four years as VP of MILCOM Systems Corporation, a family owned electronics business headquartered in Virginia Beach but with offices worldwide.

In 1992 I bought 30 acres on the James River in Nelson County, VA and in 1994 started building my dream cabin. Still working on it. My wife and I are now living in our 28th home. She does not want to move anymore.

In 2004, I attended the Rankin reunion in Norfolk.

In May of 2007, I graduated from Liberty University Bible College at the young age 77. I am debating whether to proceed with a graduate degree in theology. I come from a long line of ministers so the heat is on.

I have one last story, about the diving board at Naval Recruit Training Center, Great Lakes, Illinois, where I and so many others went to boot camp. I am a nonswimmer. In fact I am almost deathly afraid of the water. In recruit training I was required to jump from a platform into the swimming pool. In my mind the platform was at least 20 to 30 feet above the water. I could not jump, so the instructors pushed me off the platform into the water. I was then placed in remedial swimming for the remainder of recruit training. I did not learn to swim, so upon the final swim test prior to graduation I hid in the overhead of the barracks and did not take the final swimming test. I was the company guide, so I wonder how I got away with it.

Over 40 years later, serving as Vice Chief of Naval Education and Training I was guest speaker at a recruit graduation at Great Lakes. During the tour of the training facility I saw the 20 to 30 foot platform. Somehow it was reduced in height to 6 to 8 feet. Things DO change with time.

- 37 - Marshall Carrick – Born 1931 QM3, 1952

Marshall, whose hometown was San Francisco, came to the Rankin from USS Leonard F. Mason (DD-852). He tells us that the Rankin may have saved his life, since he came to us after his ship had served two combat tours in Korea and was headed back for a third. The combat had been pretty serious, including the delivery of continuous shore bombardment at the Siege of Wonsan. While the Mason was anchored in Wonsan, the North Koreans tried to board her by climbing up her anchor chain. Luckily for all of us, they failed.

He left the dangers of Korea to help bring the Rankin out of mothballs.

“I was part of the recommissioning crew. On the day of recommissioning, I was Quartermaster of the Deck, in full dress uniform with a .45 caliber sidearm. There were lots of guests and extra bunting, of course. I manned the log book and a phone. I also welcomed my parents on board when they came over from San Francisco.”

Marshall had an interesting birthday on board the Rankin. “We had just completed passage through the Panama Canal and were steaming out into the Caribbean. I was Quartermaster of the Deck on the mid-watch. When 0000 came, I turned 21. It was easy for me to go into the chart house and note our position. On the Rankin I also registered to vote for the first time. Exciting times!” Ed Slomkowski – Born 1933 FN, 1952-1954

Ed lives in Pawley’s Island, SC, where he hosts his own Sunday polka show on Michigan-based radio WRHC 106.9 FM. His show, featuring Happy Music for Happy People, is also heard on the internet at www.radioharborcountry.org.

It all started many years ago in New Jersey where Ed grew up listening to Polka Music. In 1968 he was invited by a friend to attend The Monday Night Polka Party on radio station WSOU 89.5 FM at Seton Hall University in South Orange, NJ. Ed made several visits to the station and became one of the co-hosts. In 1972 a new community radio station

- 38 - was born in Elizabeth, NJ. With a large population of Polish, Slovenian, Ukrainian and Lithuanian people, Ed was able to get a one hour Polka Show on Sunday mornings. Within two years it grew to a two-hour Polka Show. In 1975 The Polka Carousel was born and the show became a three hour polka show on Sunday mornings on station WJDM 1530 AM. Ed Slomkowski had the Polka Show for 27 years.

In 1998 he and his family moved to South Carolina. It didn't take long for Ed to seek out a local radio station to play polka music. It was WGTN 1400 AM in Georgetown, SC. He was able to acquire one hour of radio time on Saturdays to play Happy Music for Happy People. The show lasted for a year and a half when the format of the station was changed. Now, Ed is back on the radio to play Polka Music for Happy People in Radio Harbor Country.

Ed is a regular participant in the USS Rankin Lottery Pool. Gary Montalbine – Born 1934 LT, 1961-1963

As a college student in upstate New York, I knew a professor who was a Captain in the Naval Reserve. At his suggestion, I enrolled in OCS at Newport, Rhode Island in May of 1957. In September of that year, I was commissioned as Ensign, USNR. After tours of duty in Morocco and Pittsburgh, I decided to make the Navy a career.

Needing to see what shipboard life was all about, I requested some sea duty and was assigned to the Rankin as Boat Group Commander, in charge of second division.

My new wife Heidi and I departed Pittsburgh on 17 June 1961, and arrived in Norfolk the next day. We were still on our honeymoon after our marriage on 29

- 39 - April. This was our first trip to Norfolk and we didn't know a soul. Our first order of business was to find a place to stay and get Heidi settled before my departure on 28 June, after which Heidi would be on her own. CAPT Howe apparently told his wife about Heidi, because Maxine Howe called her a couple weeks after I left and helped her with the acclimation to Navy life. She was quite helpful, and it was good to know that "the Navy takes care of its own".

I reported aboard the Rankin on 30 June 1961, in San Juan, . I was a senior LTJG, and was promoted to LT on 1 September 1961.

The Rankin was an excellent ship to start my sea duty. How many ships have port calls to exotic cities in the Caribbean? St Croix, where they drove on the wrong side of the road, seemed like our home port back then. The wardroom was friendly and efficient and of course the 2nd division was the best on the ship— otherwise there would have been difficulties in getting ashore for liberty.

After settling in and finding the bridge and determining what was port and starboard, I was required to complete a course that took me to all sections of the ship. I even found the engine room and also played navigator, trying to find stars at night. And then of course I had to learn about all those floating things stowed atop the hatches.

There were lots of positives aboard the Rankin, along with a few negatives. First the negatives. One LCVP sunk because the ramp wasn't properly secured; the water pump on the salvage boat wouldn’t start, so the water couldn't be pumped out. We failed the battle efficiency competition because the ramp on an LCM wouldn't come up. This was a big disappointment, since the Rankin had won five of these competitions in a row.

One of the positives was the Rankin's involvement in the . I worked with the Consulate in to establish an escape route for some U.S. officials that were in conference there. More than that, I believe our continued presence and port visits in the Caribbean had a positive influence in the area.

The biggest positive was the friendships established in the Wardroom. Heidi was at the base package store at NOB soon after I had departed. She signed her name

- 40 - and the name of the ship for the purchase. The person behind her noticed Rankin and said that was his new duty assignment. He was LCDR Ben Pester, then the Operations Officer and later to be the Exec. Heidi sent me a letter about meeting Ben. We were at sea. About a week after he arrived I noticed a package in his stateroom with the word Heidi on it. I asked him what was going on. It turned out that his daughter is also named Heidi. Whew!

ENS Skip Sander was a ham radio operator aboard the ship, and would phone patch us back to Norfolk so we could talk to our families. I thought that was a good idea. I learned Morse code and eventually got my ham license, which allowed me to phone patch back home, too.

My farewell to the Rankin was not so good, as I was transferred to the Naval Hospital in March 1963 for a back operation. Sometime later there was a Squadron party at the golf course near CINCLANT and we were talking to the Pesters. Nine months later the babies arrived. The Pesters had a girl and we had a boy.

The Rankin's Dale and Barbara Miner were also lifelong friends. Barbara was essentially the midwife for our boy. I was at sea when he was born. Heidi stayed with the Miners and Barbara took her to the hospital. It was about 7 weeks before I got to see our son.

After my time on the Rankin, I was assigned to USS Neosho (AO-143) as Ops Officer, and in November 1964 I went to USS Wallace L Lind (DD-703) as Ops Officer. In December 1969, I went to USS Damato (DD-871) as XO. I retired from the Navy in June 1977. Howard Hardegree – Born 1935 ENS, 1960-61

The summer of 1960 found me, a newly commissioned Naval officer, reporting to Little Creek for crypto and other training before proceeding to the Rankin. As it were, I had to arrive at Little Creek well in advance of required reporting date to try to figure out and obtain an appropriate uniform or two since all of my prior naval experience, including ROC training, had been as an enlisted reservist. Somehow it mostly got figured out except I didn't have a “Bridge Coat.” Peggy and

- 41 - I had only been married for a very short time and there was no money for a “Bridge Coat” any- way.

At the Little Creek schools there were five young officers headed for the Rankin—Dave Bartholo- mew, Al Caplan, Frank Ellett, Dave Stone and me. From Little Creek we found our way to Mayport, Florida, the Rankin and the “Ensigns’ Pit”, which was the assigned living quarters for most of us.

The “Pit” was notoriously hot with only a thinly insulated bulkhead between my bunk and the engine room. When you added in the climate of the Caribbean, you knew it was hot. On many of these hot sultry nights you could find me, as well as others, sleeping topside on the hard steel deck. There wasn't much need for a Bridge Coat under these conditions.

While on the Rankin, I was first assigned as EMO and later Ship’s Secretary. At some point in time, my sea and anchor detail assignment was the headphones on the bridge linking the Captain, OOD (Bill Hand during my time), helm, engine room, deck, etc.

Norfolk was not particularly known for bad winter weather but when you return to Norfolk finding yourself standing on the flying bridge with sleet, snow and a strong north wind hitting you in the face and all you have to wear is a raincoat and whatever else you could put under your uniform, you wish that CDR Poenicke had had an inspection–with “Bridge Coat” required—as did the XO of my next ship, the USS Wyandot (AKA 92). While I was on active duty, the Wyandot inspection was the only time I ever wore my new Bridge Coat.

I left the Rankin in September 1961 and proceeded to the Wyandot which had been pulled from mothballs and was being retrofitted at a shipyard up river from New Orleans. We got the Wyandot recommissioned in November 1961, but its life was short, and it was again headed to mothballs in July 1962. It was then that my orders sent me to Algiers Naval Station in New Orleans and an assignment in the

- 42 - Office of District Intelligence, 8th Naval District.

Following this assignment, Peggy and I returned to civilian life in December 1963 and I was employed by a law firm in Amarillo, Texas. Luckily I had completed law school and had passed the Texas bar exam before reporting to the Rankin. In Amarillo, the Bridge Coat actually made it to one or two weekly reserve meetings.

Subsequent to Amarillo, I engaged in the general practice of law in Alpine, Texas for about seven years. The Spring of 1971 found Peggy and me, together with our children—Stephanie and Scott—in Fort Worth, Texas, where I was employed in the Office of Regional Counsel, Region 7, General Services Administration, an agency of the federal government. As time went on, I advanced to the position of Regional Counsel in that office, and it was from there that I retired in 1994. Richard B. Lacy – Born 1935 ENS, 1958-1959

In 1953 I enrolled in the Navy ROTC at in my hometown of Ithaca, NY. It was wartime and every Cornell student needed to deal somehow with his Selective Service obligation. About 1,000 of them applied for the Navy ROTC program, with the successful applicants being notified the week before classes began. I was one of 300 successful applicants, because I lived in Ithaca and because my dentist agreed to grind down one of my teeth so I could pass the stringent dental exam.

At the time I was accepted, I signed a contract not to marry until I received my commission. I met my future wife Martha that very night! We married on August 17, 1958, moved to Norfolk, and I reported to Little Creek, as the Rankin was at sea. After three weeks, the ship pulled into Norfolk. I was assigned to the Engineering Department—me, a Science Education major, with no technical skills. My roommate, Dave Stump, an MIT Engineering grad, was the boat officer. I said, "We need to swap jobs. Let's talk to Commander Hopkins." We talked to the exec, he talked to Captain Harllee, and two days later, I was the boat officer!

- 43 - Captain Harllee always invited crew members to his cabin on their birthdays. Four weeks after I came aboard, I got an invitation, and we discussed amphibious operations. He also invited new officers and their wives to his home for dinner. John Vinson and I were chosen in late November 1958. We had just been told of a six-month Mediterranean mission. Mrs. Harllee told us that she always followed the ship and met it in every port; she would show our wives (Martha and Terrie) the ropes. I had bought a French Simca automobile through the AAA to pick up in Cannes, France. Captain Harllee said, "If you transport my wife all over the Mediterranean, I will make sure your car comes back on the Rankin."

But two weeks before the ship left for the Med, CAPT Harllee was transferred. But the new C.O., Captain Gabbert, had received a letter reporting the promise. He agreed to keep it, as long as we would give him a ride to Rome from Naples to visit a friend (no official vehicle for pleasure). I was granted "basket leave" for Martha to go, too, so everything happened as planned. John and I met our wives for over half of the days in port. There are lots of stories about these stops which Martha documented with photos in an album. The Med cruise was scheduled for February to August, 1959. Guess who got new orders in June? Me, the only one on board who was not chomping at the bit to get home! The car was filled with souvenirs and put on board before I left Naples on July 1, 1958 aboard an MSTS Ship. Martha left the same day on the SS Constitution and reached New York City three days ahead of me. One notable fact: down came the 48-star flag on July 4th and up went the 49-star version to add Alaska to the Union.

After the Rankin, I was assigned to Little Creek's Boat Unit 2. I was division officer of 12 LCUs skippered by senior chief boatswain's mates who had an average time in service of 24 years. I didn't have a year in, and was still an Ensign. I admitted I knew nothing, so they trained me! We made several trips to Morehead City to pick up Marines, then off to Vieques Island.

I left Norfolk in late August 1959, stopping on my way home to interview for a job with the Boy Scouts of America. I got the job, bought a house, and started immediately. I went to the Navy Reserve Building to join up, but the Commander, who was on the Board of the Boy Scouts Council, knew I worked every night with volunteers and said he would call me if the reserves ever needed me. Four years later when I was transferred to Hackensack NJ, the Commander said the same

- 44 - thing. So in six years, I never actually was in the Reserves. After seven years with the Boy Scouts, I found a job with a church camp in Titusville PA, where I developed a horseback riding program, build an Olympic size swimming pool, and encouraged young people to be leaders. Then I moved to a Dude Ranch and developed a resident horse camp. My last camp was near Syracuse NY, introducing horses there. At age 53 the 80 hour week was replaced by 37 hours at Syracuse University, where I spent ten years in the Audiovisual Department. I'm retired now, and still traveling. The Rankin reunions are good starting points for other experiences, so Martha and I usually stay in town a while to learn more about the area, the history, and the people. Paul Beaty – Born 1938 PN2, 1957-1959

I grew up in Osceola Mills, a small town in Clearfield County, Pennsylvania. I turned seventeen in December, 1956, when I was a senior in high school. In February, five classmates and I went to Altoona and enlisted in the Naval Reserve, mainly for some excitement and to have something to do. We graduated on May 24 and on the 31st we were on a train from Altoona to Baltimore and thence to the U.S. Naval Training Center, Bainbridge, Maryland.

In boot camp they discovered that I could type, so they made me the regimental clerk. I joined the Bainbridge choir and enjoyed the experience; our theme song was the Navy Hymn–Eternal Father Strong to Save. I still enjoy singing it in our church choir. I wanted to go to radioman school but didn’t get the opportunity, perhaps because my hearing wasn’t up to snuff. I had extended a year to try to get a school and ended up serving three years active duty instead of the usual reservist’s two years.

In August, 1956, I was assigned to Boston and the Naval Receiving Station 1st

- 45 - Naval District as a personnelman striker. While in Boston I was advanced to Seaman, took the test for PN3 and passed but not high enough and so I had to leave Boston for sea duty. I applied for an aircraft carrier out of Mayport, Florida, but was assigned to the USS Rankin, which at the time was at the Army piers in Norfolk. I wasn’t a happy camper… no service school, no aircraft carrier! When I saw the Rankin I was even more depressed as she may have been in dry-dock.

While on the Rankin I was in great company in the ship’s office, as most of the guys were my age. One PN3 was from Clearfield High School, and on long weekends I could get rides home with him and his buddy, who was stationed at Little Creek.

During my one year, eleven months and twenty-two days (but who’s counting?) aboard the Rankin, I made third class and then second class PN. Captain John Harllee made me his GQ phone talker, which I thought was pretty cool. I was also the guy on the fathometer when we entered and left port. While I was aboard we made three trips to the Caribbean and two to the Med. The second trip to the Med was only three months long for me, as I was sent from Naples via MSTS to Brooklyn, NY for separation at the end of May, 1959.

With the help of education officer ENS Richard Lacy, I had applied to Pennsylvania’s Indiana State Teachers College while we were in the Med. I was accepted, and I graduated in August, 1963. The school is now called Indiana University of Pennsylvania (IUP).

After graduation I taught geography and history at Huntingdon High School in Pennsylvania, then geography and New Mexico history at a junior high school in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

In 1965 I enrolled in the Library and Information Science Dept. of the University of

- 46 - Pittsburgh and after graduating in 1966 took a job as a college librarian at the University of Delaware. In 1968 I accepted a position at East Stroudsburg University of Pennsylvania. During my twenty-nine years at ESU I was lucky to rise to the rank of Associate Professor and was department chairperson for ten years and acting Library Director for one academic year. In 1997 I retired with the designation of Professor Emeritus.

While at college I met the love of my life, Linda Gay Herbst from West Mifflin, PA and in June, 1964, after she graduated we married. We have two grown children, Sean Paul and Heather Joelle. Sean lives in SC and Joelle in FL. We also have three granddaughters and one great granddaughter. Tom Drayton – Born 1938 PN3, 1961

I did two years of active duty in the Navy and four years of reserves. I was 21 when I went to Great Lakes Naval Training Center for boot camp. I was a graduate of Colorado State University in Fort Collins, so they made me the educational petty officer of my recruit company. I lost one man to test failure on the first test, but I figured out how to get them through and I never lost another. I was company honor man because of that.

After boot camp I did 13 months in Philadelphia at PHILAGRULANTRESFLT. I was a good typist, so they gave me a personal office! I made PN3 just before I was transferred to the USS Rankin for sea duty. I was aboard until July when my two years were done. I was in the reserves in Omaha for the next four years.

I didn’t know a lot of people on the Rankin. The ship assigned me two seaman apprentices who had no interest in learning anything about the Personnelman rate. They occupied the office when I went to lunch, and they cleaned and did errands. I took over the job on the Rankin from a 2nd class personnelman named Troy Johnson. I had come from a large personnel office and I didn’t have much knowledge of shipboard personnel matters. Troy taught me how to cope with things like separations, reenlistments, etc. After about two weeks he left and I was in charge of the personnel office. The personnel officer was an Ensign who

- 47 - made everything as hard and disagreeable as he could. I don’t think he ever said a civil word to me the entire time I was on the Rankin.

The Executive Officer was very nice to me and helped me when he could. He once told me “For my money, you are the best PN3 in the Navy; I won’t let this get out of hand.” For some reason I cannot recall his name. He made commander while I knew him. I had one real friend on that ship, and that was Dale Cox, a 2nd class hospital corpsman. He was a great friend, and look for his name every time I hear from the Rankin. So far no luck.

In 1963, Tom bought a King’s Food Host restaurant franchise in Lincoln, Nebraska, and operated it for sixteen years. He moved to Fargo-Moorhead Minnesota-North Dakota, where he became a Realtor and owned a laundry.

He became active in the AFS high school foreign exchange program, placing more than sixty students with host families overseas, and eight times hosting students from eight different countries. Lee Lathrop – Born 1938. SN, 1957-1959

I joined the Navy Reserve when I was 17 years old. I told my dad I had to go sooner or later, so I might as well get it over with. I enlisted at a reserve station on the Mississippi River in St. Paul Minnesota. I went to weekly meetings there, and eventually to boot camp at Great Lakes Naval Training Center.

In 1957 I went on active duty for two years. I requested the Rankin because I had a friend aboard her, and because I knew she was headed for the Med. We left for the Med the day after I came aboard. I had never seen an ocean before, and everything was new to me. I asked myself what I had gotten into. Fortunately I got in with a bunch of nice guys who took me under their wings, so and I learned

- 48 - things pretty fast.

Underway I stood lookout watches. During GQ, I was First Loader on 40mm gun #43. During ONE ALFAs, I was a bow hook on the Boat Group Commander's boat. I later became Coxswain and took the officers back and forth for liberty.

I knew every inch of that boat and what she could do. I had to handle her in some pretty rough seas. My engineer and bowhook were great. They knew their jobs very well. I can't remember their names, but we worked as a team.

I served under Captains Wendt, Harllee, and Gabbert. During that time, we earned the RED "E" and two hashmarks. The picture on the left above was taken on my eighteenth birthday in 1958. John Mazzarini – Born 1939 RM2, 1960-1962

John joined the Navy a year after graduating from high school in Pittsburgh. He wanted to be an ET, and the Navy told him he was on track for that rate. But at Great Lakes they discerned his great talent for Morse code and other RM duties, so they made him into a radioman and sent him to NAS Patuxent River. He got married there, then came to the Rankin where he was a watch supervisor and teletype repair expert. His best Navy memory is winning the Gold E in 1960.

In civilian life John finally got into electronics, spending many years in sales and support with top computer companies like Honeywell, Burroughs and UNISYS. He and Ginny have three grown children and five grandchildren. Bob Reynolds – Born 1940 ENS/LTJG, 1962-1964

While I was an Ensign waiting to join the Rankin as CIC officer, the Navy sent me to air control course. The course was useless on the Rankin since there were

- 49 - never any planes to control, but it qualified me to inspect air controllers on any ship that had them. I kept this qualification pretty low key because of the potential comments about air control on a gator freighter. Whenever the Rankin pulled into a port (most often Norfolk but occasionally San Juan and others) that had a ship with assigned air controllers, they would invariably need an annual or semi- annual air control inspection. Somehow, the Navy had a world-wide list of certified air control inspectors and what ship each one was on.

So it tended to work like this: We’d pull into port and about five minutes after our phone was installed the captain of the Rankin would get a call from the captain of the carrier asking for my services to inspect his air controllers the next day (of course, they always let it go until the last minute). The Rankin’s captain would always accept and invite the carrier’s captain to play golf.

The next morning I, a 22-year-old wet-behind-the-ears Ensign, would arrive aboard the carrier and be invited to the captain’s cabin for coffee. During this brief session, the captain would offer his ship and planes and ask me to conduct a good and fair evaluation. I would then ask him to take the ship out to a place where we could operate. I needed either four or six planes in the air, depending on the type of inspection. If we were anywhere near an air base, and the carrier was in for more than a day, the planes would come out from the base. But if he had planes aboard, they would launch them from the carrier. I would then put the controllers through air intercepts and other air control functions and assign a grade.

A couple of exercises involved two carriers steaming along side-by-side and launching planes from one while landing planes on the other—this was an air controller’s worst nightmare. After the inspection, it was back to the captain’s cabin for more coffee. I was back aboard the Rankin within 6-8 hours from the time I left. It all was a lot of fun, and it made this Ensign feel REAL powerful, but it had nothing to do with the Rankin or her mission.

- 50 - After the Navy, I went to law school and business school, and spent 32 years with DuPont as an IT Plant Manager. Mike Fulton – Born 1942 LTJG, 1966-1968

I believe I have a unique standing among the Rankin vets—I was assigned to her for two tours of duty.

When I enrolled at Ohio State in 1960, all males, unless they were veterans or in some other way exempt from the draft, were required to take two years of ROTC. I chose the Navy. Faced with the draft, completing the training and receiving a commission with an obligation of two years active duty made sense to me. In 1963, I was assigned to the USS Rankin for my midshipman cruise.

I reported on board that summer pretty gung ho, eager to begin my Navy experience and to complete my training guides. However, the ship had just returned from an extended cruise, and everyone else was glad to simply remain at the pier for those few weeks. Let’s just say it was not the most motivating experience. The captain was George Cook from Massachusetts. It was an informal requirement to watch his copy of the episode from the TV show The Silent Service which featured his (genuine) heroism during WWII. He also told us how “Jack” Kennedy had personally recommended the Rankin to him. Our reunion leader, Skip Sander, had left the ship by this time, but some of the other officers I remember yet. “Jake” Jacobs was in charge of the midshipmen.

I think the two experiences that stood out most from that half summer related to life in Norfolk. We four midshipmen were billeted in “boys town,” located right over the laundry. You could not walk barefoot on the hot steel deck. As soon as I could, I went to a drug store and picked out some shower thongs. When I took them to the cashier, she asked why I was buying them, and when I told her, she said she could not sell them to me on Sunday. She then advised me that if I were going to the beach for recreation, that would be OK. So I lied; ironic since the

- 51 - “blue laws” were intended to enforce morality. The second experience was just the awakening of a Midwest boy to the segregated South. Beginning with the bus station, I found waiting rooms and drinking fountains marked “Colored” and “White Only.” Restaurants, theaters, beaches—everything, it seemed, provided second-rate, even dirty facilities for “Colored” if they provided service at all. Norfolk was in the deep South. I am happy to say that the ship, as far as I could tell, was free of this overt discrimination.

Upon college graduation, I was granted a two-year deferment to attend graduate school. In 1966, I received my orders for active duty and I couldn’t believe it was right back to the USS Rankin. I was now a JG, and my assignment was as Assistant Communications Officer, an Ensign billet. I kept this assignment for the entire two years even after benefitting from an accelerated appointment to Lieutenant.

I am glad to say my second experience on the Rankin was much better than my first one. It is hard to believe how much Norfolk changed in three years and how much better it was to be a regular part of the Rankin crew. I liked my fellow officers and respected and admired the enlisted men. As a bachelor, life on the Rankin reminded me of fraternity life, except I had a regular paycheck. After marrying my hometown sweetheart while the ship was in the yards, we formed friendships with other couples, and we still have those friendships today. I enjoyed the cruises, even though I spent my first wedding anniversary somewhere between and Panama. I learned to sail, and sailing became and remains my favorite recreation. I once sailed through the area marked by buoys off Stuart, Florida, where the Rankin now rests. I learned the value of Dramamine on the Rankin and have made use of that knowledge ever since.

I have so many sea stories my wife finds it necessary to point out I was only in the Navy for two years. My favorite stories relate to the high seas off Morehead City, in which we lost a Mike boat and suffered big-time damage to other boats and to the ship. There was also hurricane Beulah which we tried to dodge and ended up going right through its middle. Once at the O Club at Gitmo I walked out of the head with my cover on. The bartender was quick on the bell; it cost me $20. I love to tell about the UDT member who missed his ship and rode with us to the operating zone. When we arrived, we sent the standard signal, “We have your man; send a boat.” We received back in the clear, “Boat, hell!” The UDT guy

- 52 - donned his diving gear, went over the side with his seabag, and swam the 1000 yards to his ship.

As a young Ensign, my "stateroom" was in "boy's town" on the port side just aft of the wardroom. It may have been over the bakery, and it was very hot in port (which we usually were). I slept totally in the nude with a fan, mopping with a towel--I think of it any time I try to sleep in a hot location. After a week or so we were encouraged to adopt a different bunk for the night. I slept in the bunk of the ship's bos'n, I believe it was. He had no duty days and slept at home at nights. I hardly knew him. Once we were getting underway early in the morning. I turned in the night before, and lights were out when the bos'n decided to stay the night on board. I don't know who was the most surprised when he climbed into his bunk.

I wrote the mid-watch verse log for January 1, 1968, although, since I didn't stand the watch, it was signed by CWO3 Oscar Baker. I very recently told a friend about my last Rankin assignment—writing a protocol to defend against the Komar missile boat. The plan mainly consisted of turning tail and making full speed. I loved conning the ship, especially maneuvering to pick up Oscar during man overboard drills.

I usually don’t tell people how I once picked up the PRITAC microphone instead of the bridge phone and commanded “right standard rudder” to the entire squadron and how Captain Exum threatened to send me below if it happened again. My stories also don’t tell about the trouble I got into for going ashore leaving the registered publications safe open.

I’m afraid my service to the Rankin and the Navy was lackluster at best. When I left the ship in 1968, the had become pretty unpopular, and I didn’t hold my tongue as well as I should have. Mustang LT Andy Anderson called me “the professor.” But I can tell you now, those two years were, without qualification, two of the best years of my life.

Upon leaving the Navy, I took a job in farm marketing with a major oil company before spending seven years in R&D with Scotts, the lawn company. One day in the company lunch room I was spinning a sea story to a couple coworkers about getting underway off Vieques without lights or radar. I had turned in and was

- 53 - awakened by repeated 5 short blasts, the shaking of the ship at reverse full, and calls to clear the fo’c’sle. The man sitting beside me had actually been on officer on the USS Fort Snelling, the ship we nearly rammed, and he remembered the incident quite well.

I left Scotts in 1976 and took a faculty position with The Ohio State University where I taught Turfgrass Management to youngsters preparing to become golf course superintendents. It was never lost on me that Andy Anderson’s prediction came true. I have been retired for several years now; I still enjoy sailing as well as biking and skiing. I'm fortunate to have the same wife and a family which I am proud of, including a son who has made the Navy his career. On those occasions when someone thanks me for my service, I assure them no thanks are needed for my service on the Rankin —it was, in fact, a privilege. Alfred J. Roy – Born 1942 RM2, 1962-1966

Back in 1961 I was working for my dad, and we had a long talk about my future. He had been a Carpenter’s Mate in the Seabees when they started up in 1942, and he offered me $50 if I would enlist in the Navy.

That was a good deal, so I went to see the recruiter. I passed the physical and all the tests and got sworn in. I was supposed go to boot camp in California, but they sent me instead to Great Lakes Naval Training Center in Illinois. There were two feet of snow on the runway when we landed at O’Hare.

Our bus arrived at Great Lakes at 4:30 AM, when they lined us up and marched us to old wooden barracks with steam heat. All I could think of was “What did I get myself into? It’s cold here, and reveille is at 0600!”

I was assigned to Company 26 and began my Naval career. Whether I liked it or not, I learned what was expected of me and became a sailor. I graduated boot camp and went to RM “A” school in Bainbridge, Maryland. Expecting to go to NAS

- 54 - , I went to Norfolk instead, to something called USS Rankin (AKA-103). No sooner had I come aboard than the Cuban Missile Crisis came up, and we were off to the beautiful island of . “Now hear this! General Quarters, General Quarters, this is NOT a drill!” Being a radioman, I got to hear what was going on and use the skills I was trained for.

In the years following I was promoted to RM3, then temporarily busted to RMSN. That made me a messcook for three months, in the scullery with all the roaches. I’m itching just thinking about it.

I finally straightened out and enjoyed my time aboard old Rusty Nuts, a.k.a. NEPY, Citrus Delta, and more. I learned to respect and care for the old girl, and I didn’t like it at all when she was finally sent to the bottom.

I left the Navy in May 1966, after a four-month extension due to the conflict in Vietnam. I was a civilian again, and back working for my dad, the former Seabee.

Over 20 years later, I went to see the recruiter and joined the Navy Reserves. I went to a Seabee unit as an E-3 since I had been out so long. I did the courses for Steelworker and was designated a SWCN. A year later I made SW3, did all the courses up to chief, and was advanced to SW2. I went on active duty as a Naval Reserve Recruiter for Manchester, New Hampshire. I did this for two years, earning gold wreath awards for recruiting goals achieved each month.

I attended many schools, and was Seabee military instructor, career counselor, training PO and LPO. I had good rapport with the Marine detachment, and I had the Marine Captain swear in all my female recruits.

My two-week ACDUTRAs were interesting adventures. In Fort Benning, Georgia, we constructed new sidewalks.

In the Seabee base at Gulfport, Mississippi, we trained by building a temporary advance base. As an SW2, I was in charge of assembling a 500 barrel water tank. The week after it was completed, another crew of Seabees did their training by taking it down. I still have pictures of me and my crew assembling that very large water tank.

During the Gulf War, I spent two weeks on the island of Crete, on a NATO base

- 55 - from which planes were flying to support the war. I made SW1, and with that there was some hazing and additional responsibilities.

I took the test for SWC three times, passing it and becoming board eligible, but there were no slots for me due to steelworker chiefs retiring. I decided that time was getting short and I was getting old and the Navy would probably retire me. I left in October, 2001.

During all this time I was driving tankers for EXXONMOBIL. I retired in 2005. Now I putter around and drive my 1949 Chevy custom/rod. I am the handyman of my street, and I’m even a substitute teacher’s aide in the middle school.

Oh yes! I work out with my uncle in his gym three days a week. He is 91 years old, and was in the Army as a communications specialist in a Jeep in Germany during WWII. James Michael Dousman - Born 1942 FTSN, 1962

I only spent five months aboard the USS Rankin in 1962, but it was just as memorable in my Navy adventure as the following three years aboard the high-tech USS Mahan (DLG-11).

I was assigned to the Rankin directly out of boot camp, waiting for a billet at Fire Control Technician A School. The Rankin wasn't in port in January 1962 so I reported to the Norfolk transient barracks for a while. One very cold evening in February, on muster, I was ordered to report to a launch with few other sailors because the Rankin was "anchored in the stream." As a fresh boot, I was most excited about this. We arrived about midnight at the accommodation ladder dangling from the side of the ship. I scurried up the ladder with my seabag over my shoulder, and presented my orders envelope to the OOD on the quarterdeck. After I checked in, a BM1 named Frenchy with an arm full of hash marks sent me down below to

- 56 - take a bunk for the night. I was awakened about 5:00 AM and told to join the deck force on deck. The ship was moving! We were at sea! I was given a squeegee and told to join the others scraping the ice from the deck.

After a couple of days working on the deck force, a Lieutenant came down and told me to report to the Armory with the Gunners Mates. I was still in a daze since we were still out to sea, so I did not realize what good fortune this was for me. Life was much easier than it had been on the deck force. I shared a duty with another SA every other morning to check and record magazine temperatures. That was it for my duties for the day.

A day later, I was sitting in the armory on the main deck looking out the porthole watching the waves during particularly rough weather while we sailed off Cape Hatteras. GM2 Clark was laughing at me for my amazement at the rolling of the ship when a very strong wave apparently hit us and everything in the compartment started moving around including a 400 lb. safe on the deck. I knew something was seriously wrong when Clark stopped laughing and grabbed for the pipes in the overhead. The safe crushed the 30 cup coffee pot against the bulkhead as the ship rolled heavily down on the starboard side and stayed there for a few seconds then back up again. Meanwhile green water spurted through the porthole as it was not tightly dogged down. The compartment was sloshing around with sea water. Finally the ship settled down to its previous rocking and rolling. A few minutes later our leading FT came in the armory and he had wet gray paint on his hat and shoulders. After we stopped laughing a bit, he told us that he had been painting in the radar room and felt a little seasick. He put the paint can on the deck and laid down to calm the motion. Then we took that roll and the paint can went flying. We found out later we had made a turn and a big wave hit us broadside.

Such were my memories of my first week aboard the Rankin. After my time in the Navy, I spent 27 years as an IBM Field Engineer in the Bay Area, then fifteen as the owner of two different tech companies.

- 57 - Dave Beeler – Born 1943 ET3, 1963-1966

I was on my way to college in Buckhannon, West Virginia, when a group of us from my high school decided to join the Navy. I enlisted Oct. 11, 1961 and after passing all exams was flown to Midway airport in for the ride to Great Lakes Naval Training Center.

I made it through Boot Camp by the skin of my teeth, and was scheduled for Electronics A School. The school was full, so I spent the first seven months of Navy life as an electronics striker on board the destroyer tender USS Arcadia (AD-23) stationed at Newport, Rhode Island.

I arrived at the ship in the middle of a blinding New England snow storm. All I could think was "What the Hell did I do?" But within two weeks we were in San Juan, PR, tied up for three months and servicing destroyers and the new nuclear subs. When we returned to Newport I was volunteered to go on the base to work for the DESLANT Ball. I spent two more months decorating a huge Drill Hall to look like Times Square. Then I was sent to "A" school, back at Great Lakes.

I spent the better part of a year there (we lived out of our seabags during he Cuban Crisis). When I graduated I was assigned to a new Comm station in Greece. As I was young and in love with a girl from Chicago, I asked a friend to lose my orders so I could stay at the school. He did, but I got assigned to the Rankin instead. When I reported aboard in 1963, she was moored three ships outboard of the pier. I’m glad I didn’t have a new hat on, since while crossing the other ships I got deck gray paint all over the one I was wearing. Thus started my time on the USS Rankin. I checked into OI Division and met the ETs on board: Will Overall, Mike Lipp, and Rich Eckler.

As the new man on board, I inherited boat radio maintenance from Eckler. At first I kept thinking "what the hell are these things for?” Then I started learning about amphibious landings, which I had previously thought were only John Wayne stuff.

- 58 - We worked on the radios and got them running before every landing. During a landing my job was to make sure the radios worked. They constantly crapped out, so I became the only ET to ride the Salvage Boat. I spent a good bit of time jumping from the Salvage Boat to a moving Mike boat. It’s not just a job, it’s an adventure.

Will Overall left the ship, and Eckler left not too much later. I made rate (ETN3), so for a while it was just Mike Lipp and me in the ET shack. Then he left, others came aboard, and life went on. I was aboard for the Dominican Republic intervention of 1965, and spent many a night riding around in a Mike boat, keeping those boat radios working. The powers that be finally decided to put me on the Boat Group Commander’s LCPL. At last, something without a flat bottom!

In NATO’s Operation Steel Pike in the Med, I worked with the Spanish Marines. During the day I was on the BGC’s boat. At night the Spaniards came alongside and we did our best to repair their electronics. The great part about that was the payback… as we worked, they plied us with Spanish white wine. It was an adventure returning to ship.

I was extended because of Vietnam and served an extra six months or so after my normal enlistment. In early 1966, I was a short timer and the ship was due for a three month deployment to the Caribbean, so I was transferred to NOB for discharge in February.

My experience on the Rankin was good times and bad times, and I enjoy reliving the good ones. The people in our division were some of the best. The work was fairly easy, and I acquired a lot of sea stories, like the infamous Christmas party in the ET shack. I’ll tell you about it some time. Harvey McCubbin — Born 1943 RD2, 1962-1965

On September 21, 1961, an article in the Bridgeton (NJ) Evening News, had the headline “Four BHS Grads Join U.S. Navy". Those four were my twin brother and I, plus two of our classmates. We were headed off to Great Lakes Naval Training Center to take our place with Company 430 and begin our four year Navy enlistment. Since that time, a lot of water has passed beneath our keels. Sadly, I

- 59 - am the only sailor of the four that is currently among the living.

Following recruit training; I was off to class A radar school for the next six months. After school, my orders directed me to the USS Rankin, (AKA-103) in Norfolk, Virginia. A daunting feeling crept over me as I walked down that pier with my sea bag on my shoulders and my orders in my hand. When I saw the ship that would be my home for the next three years, I thought “This thing doesn’t look like those fleet “greyhounds” that you see in the recruiting posters”. Welcome to the Gator Navy!

The Rankin turned out to be pretty good duty, even if the air conditioning didn't work so well on our many trips to the Caribbean. The OI division became a pretty close knit group as we stood hundreds of hours of watch together in CIC. One of my friends still reminds me today of the advice that I gave him shortly after he came aboard. When he asked what we were expected to do when we were not on watch, I told Jim McCourt, “hide”. He learned that lesson well. In turn, he taught me how to run a slush fund on the ship. Together, we made quite a bit of spending money. His training served him well as he became a CPA and owned a business.

The joint Naval exercise that took us to Rota, Spain was a highlight of the time I spent on the Rankin. On the return trip across the Atlantic from Spain in November of 1964, a hurricane blew up as we were somewhere off the Azores. I wasn’t sure the old bucket was up to the task as we slid down mountains of green water and the screw partially came out of the water. We would watch the inclinometer measure the degree of roll and for a while it didn’t look so good. Heavy equipment that should have been secure in the holds was breaking loose and that could have proven to be catastrophic. By the grace of God, we are still here to talk about it.

I eventually made E5 as my enlistment drew near to an end. Reenlistment did not

- 60 - seem like a viable option, Vietnam was heating up, and I was concerned about being extended.

After becoming re-acclimated to CIVLANT, I worked for an office supply company for a year. I then took a job with New Jersey Bell (which later became Bell Atlantic and then Verizon) and spent the next 42 years with them. During that time, I went back to Cumberland County College and earned my associate degree at night. I spent the last 22 years of my employment in management.

In 1970, Jane Coyle from Norristown, PA and I were married. Together, we have one daughter and two granddaughters. My involvements include activities with my church and the Cumberland County College alumni association. I am also a member of the Bridgeton Lions Club and have served as president, past president and current sight and program chairperson.

When I learned of the Ship’s reunion in San Antonio in 2013, I decided that since I had not attended any of the former events, and almost fifty years had passed, I'd make the effort to attend. It was a rewarding experience and was well attended by OI division people I hadn't seen for half a century. The group of men, both officers and enlisted, couldn't have been more cordial. It was sad to attend the memorial ceremony for those that had passed in the past year.

I was also lucky to attend the reunions in Rhode Island, Nashville, and this year in Harrisburg. Many of us are in the “fall” season of our lives and our ranks are thinning. I strongly encourage everyone to attend any of our future reunions. If you are able, come out and enjoy the company of others... Good accommodations, good meals, good tours, and a great Hospitality Room. Greg Kristof – Born 1946 EMFN, 1965

I arrived aboard the Rankin on March 8, 1965, fresh out of Electrician's Mate "A" school. I was headed to Nuclear Power Basic School, but the timing was bad and I had to delay for six months, spending that time on the USS Rankin. Three others were in the same situation.

After a couple of days of moving mattresses around for a deployment to Puerto Rico, I went into E-Division. Nelson Hadley EM2 took me under his wing, and we

- 61 - became good friends. We still have contact today. He was my mentor at the time, and showed me how to make do with what we had, even if the right parts weren't available. I’ve carried that experience with me throughout my whole life.

We loaded up the Marines and their equipment, then hauled them all off to their war games. We dropped them off at Vieques and went to a few liberty ports: St. Croix, St Thomas, and San Juan.

Civil war broke out in the Dominican Republic in August 1965 while we were down there. We had to go back and pick up the Marines and take them to the real war. We sat offshore until the war was over, then picked up the men and equipment and returned to Norfolk.

The next month I got orders to Nuclear Power training in Bainbridge, Maryland. I finished the nuke schools and submarine school, and was transferred to the USS Daniel Webster (SSBN-626) in January 1967. I made four patrols, plus a 14 month overhaul in Newport News, and was honorably discharged in June of 1970.

When I got out I headed West and went to college on the GI Bill in Idaho. I graduated and went to work for a major construction company. Over the next 30 years I traveled all over our country and many others. In 1980, I even went back to the Dominican Republic.

I'm now retired and sitting on a trout stream in Idaho. Life is good! Ron Sirois – Born 1946 SM2, 1965-1966

Ron, who was from Eagle Lake, Maine, told us of his history aboard the Rankin:

“When I went aboard the Rankin in 1965, I was a Seaman Apprentice in the deck force. There I made Seaman and a few weeks later requested an opening on the signal bridge. I got the opening, and after three months of mess cooking went up

- 62 - on the bridge. (I think the Signalmen needed a mess cook.)”

“In 1965 I went up for Signalman Third Class and got it near the end of the year. In 1966, I was able to go up for 2nd Class after they cut the waiting time to six months. I made SM2 and was transferred to the USS Direct (MSO-430) out of Little Creek. I stayed there until July 1968 when my four year tour was up.”

“I remember James McCourt and Paul Lint from my time on the Rankin.” Mark Thomas – Born 1947 IC3, 1967-1969

One of my most memorable events on the Rankin was actually the showing of the movie “The Wild Bunch.” I was the projectionist on the mess deck that night and the reaction of the crew to that movie made a lasting impression on me. Sam Peckinpah was the director of “The Wild Bunch” and it was a ground breaking movie at the time. It contained a lot of graphic action and mayhem unrivaled by any contemporary movie. Our crew loved it, clapping and yelling throughout the showing. It was the first time I had seen that kind of response to any movie I had shown.

My other duties on the Rankin were more mundane. As an Interior Communications Electrician, I was usually repairing sound powered phones or checking why the 1MC was not working. It actually was a pretty good gig. We had gear all over the ship which allowed the IC crew more freedom than most to roam around. On one occasion I had to climb up the ship’s mast to remove the anemometer for repair and on another, pull the ship’s sword (a device used to measure the ship’s speed) from the keel.

- 63 - By far the most important thing I was responsible for was the acquisition and showing of movies. How important? The only reason I had a Navy driver’s license was to operate the ship’s pickup or Suburban to go get movies. Norfolk Naval Base had hundreds of movies on hand including many newly released titles. In addition, I was trained to “field strip” a Bell & Howell 16mm movie projector. The Rankin carried enough spare parts on board to assemble an additional projector if necessary.

When the Rankin was tied up at Little Creek Naval Base, those movie runs usually had to include a side trip to the newly built Burger King located just outside the base entrance. Whoppers were a popular alternative to navy chow and I could not leave the ship without a large order. My movie chore was now a “Whopper run.” Due to the numerous orders, I was always more nervous about getting everything right than making it back to the ship with the movies.

One enduring fact of shipboard duty was boredom, especially at sea. A lot of energy was expended to alleviate this, but probably the most important was the availability of movies because there was no radio or TV. Before we would get underway for an extended tour at sea, I would stock up with at least half dozen titles that I carefully picked from the base library, usually with the help of Time magazine movie reviews. Movies were usually shown each evening on both the mess deck and the wardroom. Projectionists were trained to operate the 16mm projectors and repair a broken movie reel if necessary.

Trading movies at sea was a crap shoot. If we were refueling at sea, the tanker would send over several titles by highline and we would reciprocate with same. We usually just traded the dogs someone else gave us on our last trade and they, in turn, would return the favor. Sometimes I was required to get on a Mike boat or Papa boat and lug several movies to another ship. If the seas were rough, I had to time my grab for the ship’s ladder carefully or the movies and I would end up in the drink. On one movie run, I was immediately escorted to the other ship’s captain’s cabin. He looked at me and said, “What have you got?” Knowing I had pretty good movies to trade, I in turn, asked, “What have you got?” As I recall, we came to an amicable agreement.

My experience with movies and projectors came in handy after I left the Navy to

- 64 - go back to college. The training helped me to get a part-time job in the audio visual center at Oklahoma State University, where I had the skill and confidence to work on most of the gear they needed to maintain.

I got my degree there, and went on to a career publishing a weekly “swap and shop” newspaper that was distributed to 300 locations in nine Oklahoma counties. Lyle White – Born 1947 ENS/LTJG, 1969-1971

In central Nebraska, not far from Kearney, there once existed the “1733 Ranch” so named because of its supposed location 1733 miles from either coast. Having lived my first 22 years not far from that landmark, it may come as no great surprise that I never laid eyes on let alone put a toe in the ocean prior to my arrival at Officer Candidate School in Newport, RI in the summer of 1969. My journey to this new life began with the top down on my red 1962 MGB roadster, a vehicle not known for reliability or comfort for anyone over 5' 10" tall. But the car was fun to drive. When I pulled into Newport I was glad to park it. First gear was gone and the clutch was slipping badly, and I am sure there must have been oil leaking from something. I recall being met at OCS by some eager to be taken seriously officer candidate who immediately informed me (like while the car door was half open and I was unfolding my frame in effort to present myself) of the Navy way. Who buttons every button anyway? Officer candidates do.

In November I graduated as Ensign White physically fit and mentally polished— okay so there were a few extra weekend hours marching in circles to atone for some failed inspection or another. The Rankin had not yet returned from its Mediterranean deployment so I took orders to report to Norfolk and attend navigator school. I met the ship when it pulled into Little Creek sometime around Christmas as I recall. I also recall there was a lot more traffic leaving the ship than

- 65 - arriving. When I did make it aboard, the ship was nearly deserted. It was a lonely Christmas.

I learned later that week that Foster Howell Corwith, III had realized on the return voyage that he had been getting way too much sleep in X Division, and jumped at the opportunity to become the Rankin’s new Navigator. Thank you Foster! Consequently, I was assigned second division—a position I held through a winter/spring Caribbean cruise and part way through the subsequent Med cruise that began in July 1970 and finished in December. Sometime during that cruise, I replaced Steve Mamikonian as Gunnery Officer.

Thinking back on the one-alfas and other deck evolutions, I’m still amazed at the skill and care the Boatswains Mates showed as hatch captains, coxswains, and during sea and anchor detail. When I joined the gunnery division, I developed a similar respect for the sailors who managed to keep that ancient arsenal functioning—mostly.

I’m looking at the Med 2-70 cruise book (using reading glasses, thank you), smelling its musty odor and searching for clues into that past. They are definitely there. There is the landing party. Bondi, Earnest Prichard (who looked a bit like Steve McQueen then), Burkholder, Weinstein, and others whose faces I recognize, but the book does not name. What a crew! In Little Creek we trained with the Marines and watched the SEALs train on the beach at night. I’ll never forget the SEAL team dropping the inflatable raft they were carrying overhead. The DI ordered them to pick it up, and when they didn’t, he started to fill it with sand. Soon it was overhead again and the team and DI faded over the horizon. Later on, we did a night exercise in Crete where, unknown to me, the locals supplied some of the outfit with fine Cretan wine. Some of the lads became unfit for serious action, and fortunately none was required. I do have a vivid recollection of SN Powell elevating one of his colleagues (his identity is safe with me) by the heels in the belief that vertical inversion would lead to instant sobriety. Then there was liberty. I’ll leave that untold except to say, LT Corwith never failed to entertain.

After helping prepare the Rankin for decommissioning, I spent another tour on USS John King, (DDG-3) as the First Lieutenant. As the King had just come out of the shipyard, we had some fun at GTMO and then were off to the Med. I left

- 66 - active duty on September 11, 1972. That was it for me and the ocean.

Since then I have done a number of things, acquiring a number of graduate degrees in search of a path with heart. My first post-Navy job was as a psychiatry aide in a Nebraska mental health hospital, locked wards and all. A bit of a change for sure, from having someone make my bed to making the beds of others, not to mention emptying bedpans, giving showers, and chasing the residents who refused to take their meds. It was pretty close to One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. After a year and a half of that, I got degrees and graduate training in elementary teaching (third grade for two years—now that is a tough job!), school counseling, school psychology, and family therapy. Ultimately, I finished a Ph.D. at the University of Iowa in 1988 and became a faculty member at Southern Illinois University Carbondale where I worked for 27 years.

For a while I taught psychology courses on military bases for the university’s distance education program. During one of those weekend sessions, I absent- mindedly lined up empty tables while talking. One of the students called out “Dr. White was you ever in the military?” I still check my gig line every morning, too. I guess the Navy did make a lasting impression. I ended up as the interim dean of the College of Education and Human Services, retiring in June, 2016. John Haddox – Born 1950 QM3, 1968-1969

John Haddox, QM3, 1968-1969. From 2012-2016, John was a County Commissioner in Martin County, Florida, the home to Stuart, Florida, off the coast of which the for- mer USS Rankin serves as a fishing and diving reef. John had formerly been Martin county’s Director of Veterans Services, having served in that department since 1999. Young John, from Mon- aca, Pennsylvania, enlisted in the Navy in 1968. He went immediately to

- 67 - Quartermaster "A" School, then was assigned to the Rankin. He made QM2 after two years, and went on to become QMC. People saw leadership talent in John, and he soon became an officer, retiring as a Lieutenant in 1988.

John was a Gator throughout his career, serving as Ship’s Boatswain on USS Guam (LPH-9) and Deck Weapons Department Head on USS Shreveport (LPD-12). He held similar positions on USS Coronado (LPD/AGF-11).

His last assignment involved base security in Hawaii, and when he retired he worked as a civilian Director of Security in Florida. That led to his current position with the county, and the rest is history.

We had more or less lost track of John until we were planning our 2008 reunion in Stuart. Once he learned we were coming to town, he jumped in with both feet to make our reunion a success. He had a TV crew lined up to do live footage from the sunken Rankin as our tour boat hovered above her, but unfortunately his immense talents do not extend to turning the tides—the weather turned bad, and we had to call off the ocean portion of our trip.

We are waiting to declare him Honorary Captain of the USS Rankin, with all the honor and glory appertaining thereto.

This document contains all the “Shipmates on Parade” articles that appeared in the USS Rankin News through Issue #28, in March, 2020. Shipmates are listed alphabetically within the year of their birth.

Skip Sander The USS Rankin Association [email protected] (412) 367-1376

- 68 -