U.S. Navy Seabee R.S. Leslie's WWII Pacific Footlocker

R.M. Leslie was one of my relative's dad. He fought in the Pacific in World War Two as a Seabee. About ten years ago, Jeannie, his daughter, gave me the contents of his old Navy footlocker for my teaching and research on World War Two. These photos show most of the kit. He had two blue cloth jackets, a lighter summer white jacket, and a khaki jacket. He also had pants to match the blues and the whites. The clothing is all in pretty decent shape considering it was packed away in a box for fifty years before I got it. Enjoy this little slice of U.S. Navy history and thanks to R.M. Leslie for his service to his family and his nation. Sadly, I do not have a photo of Leslie, but I'll continue to try to find one.

Note ruptured duck on right breast, bullion insignia device, and 'CB' badge on lower sleeve.

Amazing bullion on the blue and the gray shoulder insignia patches.

Where in the World Have I Been?

Marine Second Lt. Robert 'Bob' Crowton's Navy Cross, awarded for heroism at Okinawa.

My former teacher Pete Benavage as a Marine Sergeant before heading to Iwo Jima.

Joseph Lajzer as he appeared after over three and a half years of Japanese captivity, including the Bataan Death March and slave labor in Japan.

Have been interviewing a gentleman who was on the Clark Field Baseball Team in Philippines before war broke out. He was on the Bataan Death March, then helped build the airfield at Palawan as slave labor, then took a Hell Ship to Japan and spent a long time "digging coal for the Emperor" at Hiroshima Omine and saw the A-bomb fall thirty miles away that fateful August day. He is in the photo above. (Name withheld)

This youthful gentleman was my Western Civilization teacher in high school. He is Major Pete Benavage, United States Marine Corps (Ret.). As a young sergeant of Marines, Pete helped lead a platoon on Iwo Jima. This is a photo capture from a Japanese TV program about Iwo Jima entitled 'Island of Death'.

Pete Benavage, teacher and friend.

Marine Second Lt. Robert Crowton's "Old Breed" First Marine Division patch that he wore on Okinawa, where he won the Navy Cross for heroism.

Marine Lt. Bob Crowton's lovely wife, Marge, admires his Navy Cross, awarded at a hospital in San Diego after he had undergone surgery to shrapnel damage to his face. (Bob Crowton collection)

Bob's Purple Heart and the box for his Navy Cross.

Bob awarded his Navy Cross in San Diego, CA.

William Morrison, who as a young Marine guarded a gun emplacement at the base of Mt. Suribachi and saw the flag go up.

Navy Corpsman William 'Bill' Lynne, who served with the First Marines at Peleliu and Okinawa. The corpsmen fought alongside the Marines, and saved many lives in battle. (Bill Lynne photo)

The wounded Corpsman in this famous press photo is Bill Lynne. (Bill Lynne collection)

Greetings to my faithful readers, all 26 of you. :)

Sorry I have not written on the blog much lately. I've been very busy working on my next book, and since it is not about WWII airmen, this page hasn't gotten the attention it did before

Right now, I am deeply involved in researching a book about the Pacific War. Lately, I've been working on two chapters in depth. The first involves the men who were on the Bataan Death March and the ensuing years as POWs. The second involves men who were at Iwo. These are but two chapters but I tend to immerse in just a few at a time. I've already put a lot of time into Pacific aviators and into Okinawa, the USS Indianapolis, and Navy Corpsmen. I have also been interviewing several Pearl Harbor survivors. This on top of the fact that I work sixty to seventy hours a week in the highly lucrative field of teaching high school.

I am putting a small sampling of photos of some of the guys I'm writing about at the moment, and who will all appear in the book when it comes out next year.

Stay tuned. I will be back.

George Wahlen Passes Away, Iwo Jima Corpsman, Utah's Last Surviving WWII Medal of Honor Winner

I never met Mr. Wahlen, but I do have a signed copy of his book, which I consider recommended reading for any WWII historian.
Read about the book here: http://www.americanlegacymedia.com/TQH/TQHIntro_black.html

Reluctant WW II hero was a champion of veterans causes
By Matthew D. LaPlante
The Salt Lake Tribune
Updated: 06/06/2009 03:57:35 PM MDT

(Paul Fraugton / Tribune file photo)

Every now and again, when her husband was feeling strong enough, Melba Wahlen and her children would take him for a drive.
He could have gone anywhere in the Weber Valley, but George Wahlen always wanted to go to the same place.
"Let's go watch the construction of the nursing home," he would say. "Let's see how they're coming along."
Utah's last surviving Medal of Honor winner, a zealous advocate for veterans' rights who helped lobby for cemeteries, hospitals -- and, most recently, a veterans nursing home in Ogden -- died Friday morning after a long battle with cancer. Doctors said Wahlen passed comfortably at the Salt Lake City Veterans Affairs Medical Center which, much to Whalen's humble chagrin, was named in his honor in 2004.
He'd never liked the spotlight, but in his waning years, he understood his place in it.

A hero is born
It all began on Feb. 19, 1945. U.S. military leaders, prepping for an invasion of Japan, had set their sights on a little-known island 600 miles south of Tokyo, known as Iwo Jima.
Wahlen, a 20-year-old Navy corpsman who had never seen combat, rushed with his platoon from a beach-landing craft -- right into machine gun and artillery fire.
Seemingly unconcerned for his own well-being, according to those he treated, Wahlen set immediately to work tending to the wounded. But the Ogden native quickly learned he could not save everyone.
"We turned over one Marine and he had been shot between the eyes and was bleeding all over," Wahlen told The Salt Lake Tribune in 2004. "That was quite a shock."

Wahlen would spend the next two weeks trying to keep his comrades alive, often dashing through machine gun fire to reach the wounded.

Trying to reach several injured Marines about a week into the fighting, he came upon a Japanese grenade bunker that was holding U.S. forces at bay. He called to a Marine to throw him a grenade, then crawled to the bunker to kill those inside. Wahlen, hit by grenade fragments, bandaged his own right eye and helped a badly wounded Marine off the deadly hill.
Several days later, Wahlen was trying to pull a wounded Marine from the lines when a shell landed nearby, hitting him in the shoulder and the back. Wounded once again, he could have been evacuated. He chose to stay.

"When you've been with these guys, they're like family," he said. "You don't want to let them down."

The next day Wahlen was headed to an artillery crater to attend to five wounded Marines when a shell landed in their position. A piece of shrapnel struck Wahlen near his right ankle, breaking his leg. "I bandaged myself up, took a shot of morphine and crawled over and started helping a Marine that had both his legs blown off," he recalled.

After putting tourniquets on the Marine, Wahlen was too badly injured to continue. The medic was put on a stretcher and evacuated.

Seven months later he received the Medal of Honor from President Harry S. Truman while recovering in a Marine hospital in Camp Pendleton, Calif.

In and out of the spotlight

Friends and family said Wahlen never wanted his life to be defined by the blue-and-white-ribboned medal he'd received "for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life."
In fact, Melba Wahlen said she didn't know that her husband had won the U.S. military's highest honor for heroism until a peculiar letter arrived, several years after they were married.
"It was an invitation for an event with the president at The White House," she laughed. "I had no idea what it was for."

As word of Wahlen's heroism drew attention in Utah after the war, his wife recalled, the quiet man longed for anonymity.

He found it back in uniform, enlisting in the Army and serving in Korea and Vietnam before finally retiring to take a job assisting veterans at Weber State University.

In the post-Vietnam era, when many Americans wanted to forget about their nation's wars, Wahlen found some of the obscurity he'd been seeking. But he also found a lack of attention to the needs of those who had answered their country's call.

As veterans groups sought state funding to improve the Utah Veterans Memorial Cemetery at Camp Williams, they leaned on Whalen's fame.

Melba Wahlen said her husband reluctantly obliged -- and "found that he was very good at it. He would do anything for veterans."

When the cause was right, Department of Veterans affairs Director Terry Schow said, Wahlen would make an appearance, give a short speech or go shake a few hands on Capitol Hill -- all in the name of loosening purse strings for fellow veterans.

But Wahlen never did grow used to the spotlight. In brief remarks at a 2004 ceremony in which the Salt Lake City hospital was named for him, Wahlen said nothing about his fateful fortnight on Iwo Jima.

"I just represent the veterans, that's what this is all about," he said.

"The way George always rationalized in his mind, he was a symbol for all of the other veterans," said Gary Toyn, who wrote about Wahlen's war experiences in the biography Quiet Hero . "He got all the attention, and he never liked that, but he understood that he had a role to play. At one point he realized, 'You know, I can really do some good with this.' And that's how he continued to serve."

A legacy continues
Just hours after his father's death, Brock Wahlen stood before television cameras in a hastily arranged press conference in the medical center lobby. Patients passed by, some shuffling with walkers and others gliding through in wheelchairs, en route to medical appointments.
Brock Wahlen made a vow: "He always fought for the veterans and their rights. We're going to continue that legacy as a family."

Schow had asked George Wahlen to speak at the November opening of the Veterans Nursing Home in Ogden. And Wahlen was looking forward to doing so.

But when Schow visited, last week, it was clear that his friend would not make it.

"But his thoughts were still on what he could do to help," said Schow. "We gave him a progress report and he asked about sponsoring a room there."

Schow choked back tears at the loss of a man he called his hero. "He won't be there to speak at the dedication," he said. "But he will be there. By God, he'll be there."
mlaplante@sltrib.com

"Our state has lost our humble hero."
Gov. Jon Huntsman, Jr.
"His service to this country and Utah will not soon be forgotten."
Sen. Orrin Hatch
"His real contribution came from a lifetime of dedication to those in the military and his fellow veterans."
Sen. Bob Bennett
"Though he could have easily acted like the celebrity he was, George never thought of himself as anything more than a humble friend to those he met."
Rep. Rob Bishop
"He said, 'So many other people have done so much.' But we all know the truth."
Department of Veterans Affairs Director Terry Schow
"He was a hero in his own right, but he viewed all veterans as heroes."
VA Hospital Chief of Staff Ronald Gebhart
"Our hearts are broken... he was part of our famliy."
VA Spokeswoman Jill Atwood

Old Photos by a Marine on Board the USS San Diego in 1917-1918 Found in Idaho Falls

The Marine wrote "Big seas" on the back of this photo.

A Marine honor guard at sea, possibly for a burial at sea.

The Marine labeled this shot "Brooklyn Bridge" but it is actually the Manhattan Bridge. The San Diego enters the harbor in 1917.

The written backs on some of the photos provide a glimpse into the life of one young Marine on board.

Marines pose in uniform on deck of USS San Diego, 1917.

Sailors wash their uniforms in a half-bucket of fresh water, then rinse them with salt water from a hose.

March 16, 1917, morning inspection on the deck of the Marine Guards by the C.O.

"X" over one man shows the Marine who owned these photos--he identifies it as himself.

Ice on the bow, Atlantic 1918.

Convoy duty, Atlantic.

Yesterday a ran across a cache of old photos taken by a Marine guard on board the USS San Diego in 1917 and 1918 during World War One. They provide a fascinating look at life on board a Navy ship nearly a hundred years ago. The USS San Diego was originally built about 1905 and named the USS California, with the name change coming a few years later. She sailed in the Pacific as a Navy flagship and then spent her last year in the Atlantic escorting convoys during World War One. Unfortunately, near the end of the war, she was sunk--possibly by a German U-Boat--and she rests on the ocean floor.

The Marine wrote on the backs of some of the photos, giving us more of a glimpse of life on this great ship.

Facts about the USS San Diego.

The United States Ship (USS) California was the second of that name; She was an Armored Class Cruiser, assigned number 6. She was laid down in 1902 and launched 28 April 1904 by the Union Iron Works, San Francisco, Calif.; sponsored by Miss F. Pardee; and commissioned 1 August 1907, Captain V. L. Cottman in command. She was powered by two coal burning, four cylinder, triple expansion steam engines, which drove her two 37,000 pound bronze/magnesium propellers.
Joining the 2d Division, Pacific Fleet, the California took part in the naval review at San Francisco in May 1908 for the Secretary of the Navy. Aside from a cruise to Hawaii and Samoa in the fall of 1908, the cruiser operated along the west coast, sharpening her readiness through training exercises and drills. In December 1911 she sailed for Honolulu, and in March 1912 continued westward for duty on the Asiatic Station.
After this service representing American power and prestige in the Far East, she returned home in August 1912, and was ordered to Corinto, Nicaragua, then embroiled in internal political disturbance. Here she protected American lives and property, and then resumed her operations along the west coast; she cruised off California, and kept a watchful eye on Mexico, at that time also suffering political disturbance (1).
In September 1914 the California was renamed the San Diego to make her original name available for assignment to a battleship, as directed by Congress. She served as flagship for Commander-in-Chief, Pacific Fleet, intermittently until a boiler explosion put her in Mare Island Naval Ship Yard in reduced commission through the summer of 1915 (1).
The USS San Diego on 28 January 1915 while serving as flagship of the Pacific Fleet. Her name had been changed from the California on 1 September of the previous year.
On 21 January 1915 the San Diego suffered a boiler explosion. While taking the half hour readings of the steam pressure at every boiler, Ensign Robert Webester Cary Jr. had just read the steam and air pressure on number 2 boiler. He had just stepped through the electric watertight door into number 1 fire room when the boilers in number 2 fire room exploded. In fire room number 2 at the time was Second Class Fireman Telesforo Trinidad, of the Philippines and R. E. Daly, along with one other man. Ensign Cary stopped and held open the watertight doors which were being closed electrically from the bridge, and yelling to the men in No. 2 fire room to escape through these doors, which 3 of them did do. Ensign Cary held the doors open for a full minute with the escaping steam from the ruptured boilers around him. For His extraordinary heroism Ensign Cary was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor2,3. He would later retire with the rank of Rear Admiral. Fireman Telesforo Trinidad was driven out fire room No. 2 by the explosion, but at once returned and picked up R. E. Daly, Fireman Second Class, whom he saw injured, and proceeded to bring him out. While coming into No. 4 fire room, Trinidad was just in time to catch the explosion in No. 3 fire room, but without consideration of his own safety, passed Daly on and then assisted in rescuing another injured man from No. 3 fire room. Trinidad was himself burned about the face by the blast from the explosion in No. 3 fire room. For his extraordinary heroism Fireman Second Class Trinidad was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor also for this incident (2).
The San Diego returned to duty as flagship through 12 February 1917, when she went into reserve status until the opening of World War I. Placed in full commission 7 April, the cruiser operated as flagship for Commander, Patrol Force Pacific Fleet (1).
USS San Diego ACR-6 (ex-USS California) about 1917. Officers are Rear Admiral W.B. Caperton and his staff
On April 6, 1917, California Governor William D. Stephens received a telegram from the Secretary of the Navy calling the State’s Naval Militia into Federal Service. Upon the Governor’s orders the Naval Militia was immediately directed to assemble at their Armories and prepare for muster. The following organizations were mustered in as National Naval Volunteers: First Division, San Francisco; Second Division, San Francisco; Third Division, San Diego; Fourth Division, Santa Cruz; Engineer Section, Fourth Division, Santa Cruz; Fifth Division, Eureka; Sixth Division, Santa Barbara; Seventh, Eight, and Ninth Divisions, Los Angeles; Aeronautic Section, Ninth Division, Los Angeles; Tenth Division, San Diego; Eleventh Division, Los Angeles; First Engineer Division, San Francisco; Second Engineer Division, Los Angeles; and the First Marine Company, Los Angeles. The entire organization was subsequently mobilized on board the USS Oregon, USS San Diego, USS Huntington (4) and USS Frederich (5).
On April 15th Lieutenant Adolph B. Adams and his 5th Division, California Naval Militia left with the San Francisco and Santa Cruz Divisions for Mare Island. At Mare Island the Division reported to George W. Williams on the USS Oregon and were assigned to the Armored Cruiser USS San Diego. On April 17th, sixteen men of the division were transferred to the USS Frederich (5). Between May 31st and July 18th 1917 those of the Division that were aboard the USS San Diego participated in Convoy duty along the California coast. One mission was a trip from Honolulu, Hawaiian Territory to Port Townsend with an interned German vessel under convoy escort (6). These duties entitled all the members of the ship to the “Escort” bar for their World War I Victory Medals.
On 18 July, the USS San Diego was ordered to the Atlantic Fleet. Reaching Hampton Roads, Virginia on 4 August, she joined Cruiser Division 2, and later bore the flag of Commander, Cruiser Force, Atlantic, which she flew until 19 September. San Diego's essential mission was the escort of convoys through the first dangerous leg of their passages to Europe. Based on Tompkinsville, New York, and Halifax, Nova Scotia, she operated in the weather-torn, submarine-infested North Atlantic safely convoying all of her charges to the ocean escorts1. Prior to the sinking of the USS San Diego, Lt. Adolph B. Adams was transferred off the ship and assigned to the USS Tallahassee at the Panama Canal Zone (6).
On 8 July 1918, the San Diego left Portsmouth, New Hampshire, en route to New York. She had rounded Nantucket Light and was heading west. On 19 July 1918, she was zigzagging as per war instructions on a course for New York. The Sea was smooth, and the visibility was 6 miles. At 11:23 AM, a huge explosion tore a large hole in her port side amidships. The explosion crippled the port engine. Captain Christy immediately sounded the submarine defense quarters, which involved a general alarm and closing of all watertight doors. Soon after two more explosions ripped through her hull. These secondary explosions were later determined to have been caused by the rupturing of one of her boilers and the ignition of one of her magazines. The ship immediately started to list to port. Captain Christy ordered the starboard engine rung up to full speed and headed toward the shore in an attempt to ground the San Diego in a salvageable depth of water. Soon afterward the starboard engine quit. The Officers and crew quickly went to their battle stations. Guns were fired from all sides of the warship at anything that could be a periscope or submarine. Her port guns fire until they were awash. Her starboard guns fired until the list of the ship pointed them into the sky. Under the impression that a submarine was in the area, the men stayed at their posts until Captain Christy gave the order “All hands abandon ship” after the starboard engine quit. At 11:51 AM the San Diego sunk only 28 minutes after the initial explosion. As per Navy tradition Captain Christy was the last man off the ship. As the Captain left the ship, the crew in the lifeboats gave him a cheer and burst in to signing the National Anthem. As the Officers and crew watched from their lifeboats the San Diego capsized and sunk to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean about 8 miles off Long Island’s south shore. Today she lies in water ranging from 65 to 116 feet deep.

Correction on Previous Post: Tip of the Hat to Barrett Tillman

I got an email today from WWII historian Barrett Tillman pointing out that I posted an article that was in error some time ago. I am posting his correction and clarification here, with my apologies. I got the story from a fellow historian but did not verify it, so the fault is mine.
Thanks, Barrett, for your correction, and also for your fine coverage of the war in the Pacific.
Rob

Following is Mr. Tillman's correction:

"Congratulations on your web site and Untold Valor. Your tribute to the genuinely heroic airmen who served the nation will be appreciated by so many people.
However, the post about "Andy Cowan" needs serious scrutiny. I'm a professional author and historian with over 40 books and 500 articles published, mainly on aviation history, so I'm confident of my sources.
I tried registering to post on the blog but could not sign on so I'm sending you the info directly.
Here’s the facts of the message and video, point by point:
The flakked-up Hellcat sliding to a stop against the carrier’s island bears the “high hat” insignia of Fighting Squadron One, which flew from USS Yorktown (CV-10) in 1944. The name Andy Cowan does not appear on any VF-1 roster I’ve found.
When I first spoke aboard “The Fighting Lady” in Charleston, SC, I asked some ship’s veterans about the oft-seen footage of Number 30 sliding into the superstructure, possibly crunching a fire fighter. I was told that the “hot papa” ducked inside the island just in time. Nobody was hurt.
Furthermore, the Navy doesn’t have “crew chiefs.” It has plane captains. Anyone who’d ever been in the U.S. Navy would know that.
The longest-serving Navy fighter pilot in WW II was the late Captain Jim Daniels, an Enterprise aviator whose Wildcat was shot down by American gunners on December 7 ‘41. On VJ-Day he was off Japan, flying from USS Boxer. The Pearl Harbor Survivors Association declared him the only fighter pilot airborne on the day the war started and when it ended. There’s no mention of anybody named Cowan.
The Naval War College does not present “Top Gun” briefings to fighter pilots. It teaches national strategy and military theory to senior officers. Anyone who’d ever visited the War College would know that. In truth, “young fighter jocks” get their education at the Naval Strike Warfare Center in Nevada.
On December 7, 1941, USS Ranger was not in Cuba. She was off Trinidad. Anybody who had been aboard the ship would know that.
For someone who had four carriers shot out from under him, 'Andy' had to move around a great deal. Considering that we lost four flattops in 1942, he would have to transfer from Lexington in May to Yorktown in June, to Wasp in September, to Hornet in October. Since each had a different air group, nobody served in more than two of those ships in that period. So…presumably our hero was aboard the light carrier Princeton off the Philippines in October 1944, and-or one or more escort carriers between 1943 and 1945.
'Andy' claims 4.5 aerial kills, apparently believing that he could sneak in beneath the “ace radar.” But Dr. Frank Olynyk’s exhaustive study of Navy aerial victory credits shows nobody named Cowan scoring in any squadron. (Consider this: anyone who flew combat for 44 months and only scored 4.5 kills wasn’t very good at his job.)
We are told that andy served with Jimmy “Thatch” (I knew him: he spelled his name with one T), Butch O’Hare, Dave McCampbell, etc, etc. The First Team, John B. Lundstrom’s exquisitely detailed two-volume history of Navy air combat in 1942, lists every pilot in the eight Pacific Fleet fighter squadrons. Nobody with AC’s name appears in either book.
Dave McCampbell (whom I knew) commanded Air Group 15 aboard USS Essex in 1944, at the same time Princeton was sunk. Furthermore, nobody named cowan ever served in VF-15.
We are told that cowan is “a recognized expert” on the Japanese Navy. But a sampling of genuine historians—the New York Yankees of IJN history—have never heard of him before this email began circulating. Neither has any publisher, since Cowan the Expert has never written a single book on that subject. Nor, according to Amazon.com, on anything else (though his name appears in credits for books on cooking and music.)
Conclusion: Andy Cowan (reportedly he lives near Salinas) is a fake, trading on the achievements of vastly better men than himself. Furthermore, he spins tall tales to gullible people who unfortunately take such statements at face value. It would be interesting to know the original source of the story, which has been on email circulars for several months now.
Sincerely,
Barrett Tillman"

I recomment the following book by Mr. Tillman: http://www.amazon.com/Clash-Carriers-Story-Marianas-Turkey/dp/0451219562/ref=pd_bbs_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1217789077&sr=8-2

Honoring Women Who Served--Lena Mae O'Neal--WAVE

Lena Mae O'Neal in a close-up from a group photo. (Courtesy of Nancy Hart, O'Neal's niece)

A photograph of Peggy O'Neal stands in front of her US Navy WAVE uniform. The immaculate and complete uniform, with cap and leather purse, was donated to me by a colleague Nancy Hart. Peggy was Nancy's aunt.

Peggy's WAVE uniform, looking as new as the day she got it, stands in a place of honor in my small museum. Note her name "L.M. ONEAL" stenciled on the WAVE-issued purse.

The WAVES were the women's arm of the United States Navy during World War Two. Many women served in jobs that would otherwise have been done by men, thus freeing the men to fight in the war effort.

A colleague of mine at work, Nancy Hart, had an aunt named Lena Mae O'Neal. Ms. O'Neal went by Peggy. Peggy served in the WAVES in World War Two as a cook. She was stationed in San Diego, California and in New York. A few years ago, her niece Nancy gave me Peggy's entire WAVE uniform, complete with purse and cap. This set is a priceless artifact and one of the crown jewels of my collection.

Peggy O'Neal was born in 1917 in Springfield, Missouri. In 1939, she went to California. Her brothers and sisters were all involved once the United States entered the war. Her oldest brother, James O'Neal, taught pilots to fly in Oklahoma. Her older sister Betty was a secretary on several different bases. Her brother Frank O'Neal, was injured in the Phillipines. While being transported on a hospital ship, the ship was bombed by the Japanese and Frank was killed. Her brother William O'Neal was in the Marines, and brother Emmitt was in the Coast Guard. Another sister, Dorothy, worked as a 'Rosie the Riveter' for McDonnell Douglas, building aircraft. Of the eight children in the O'Neal family, seven were involved in the war effort in some way.

Peggy passed away a few years ago. Today we honor her service and that of her siblings.

A wartime recruiting poster shows a young WAVE prepared to serve her country.

The United States Navy's history website has the following information on the WAVES:

"After a twenty-three-year absence, women returned to general Navy service in early August 1942, when Mildred McAfee was sworn in as a Naval Reserve Lieutenant Commander, the first female commissioned officer in U.S. Navy history, and the first Director of the WAVES, or "Women Accepted for Volunteer Emergency Service". In the decades since the last of the Yeomen (F) left active duty, only a relatively small corps of Navy Nurses represented their gender in the Naval service, and they had never had formal officer status. Now, the Navy was preparing to accept not just a large number of enlisted women, as it had done during World War I, but female Commissioned Officers to supervise them. It was a development of lasting significance, notwithstanding the WAVES' name, which indicated that they would only be around during the wartime "Emergency".

Recruiting had to be undertaken (or at least managed, as the number of interested women was vast), training establishments set up, an administrative structure put in place and uniforms designed. The latter effort produced a classic design that still has many elements in use nearly six decades later. Difficulties were overcome with energy and indispensable good humor, and within a year 27,000 women wore the WAVES uniform.

These women served in a far wider range of occupations than had the Yeomen (F). While traditionally female secretarial and clerical jobs took an expected large portion, thousands of WAVES performed previously atypical duties in the aviation community, Judge Advocate General Corps, medical professions, communications, intelligence, science and technology. The wartime Navy's demand for them was intense as it struggled to defeat Hitler and Mussolini in Europe and the Japanese in the Pacific.

At the end of the conflict, there were well over 8,000 female officers and some ten times that many enlisted WAVES, about 2 ½ percent of the Navy's total strength. In some places WAVES constituted a majority of the uniformed Naval personnel. And many remained in uniform to help get the Navy into, and through, the post-war era.

Brothers Serving Together--And Dying Together

A reader made a good observation concerning the story posted today on the RCAF Wellington bomber that crashed in England, killing the crew. There were two brothers on the crew, Flight Lieutenant Frank Lorne Burston, age 30, and Flying Officer Glen Richard Burston, age 28, both of London, Ontario. The reader wondered how common this was. The only instance I know about is that of the Sullivan Brothers, who all served together on the U.S.S. Juneau in World War Two.

Their strange and tragic story follows, quoted from the U.S. Navy website.

"Albert, Francis, George, Joseph and Madison Sullivan were born in Waterloo, Iowa, between 1914 and 1920. George and Francis enlisted in the Navy in 1937. Their three younger brothers joined the service in early 1942. All five were assigned to the commissioning crew of USS Juneau (CL-52) in February 1942. They remained with the ship through her Atlantic shakedown operations and subsequent combat actions in the Guadalcanal Campaign. All were lost with her on 13 November 1942, a tragedy that received wide publicity in the United States and resulted in a new Navy policy discouraging family members from serving together in the same ship.

For more information on this subject, see The Sullivan Brothers ...

In February 1943, the destroyer Putnam, then under construction at San Francisco, California, was renamed USS The Sullivans (DD- 537) in honor of the Sullivan Brothers. More recently, an Arleigh Burke class destroyer, DDG-68, was named USS The Sullivans. This ship was commissioned in 1997."

For more on this story, go to this link: http://www.history.navy.mil/faqs/faq72-1.htm

Does anyone know of any situations involving air crews where brothers served on the same aircraft? Please contact me if you do.

Great question, Richard.

My friend Moofy in England, 8th Air Force researcher extraordinaire, sent me this photo to add to this blog. It was shown her by her late friend Jack Ilfry, the fighter pilot. In it, Ilfrey is meeting Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan, the parents of the Sullivan Brothers.