Douglas On the Road to Hungnam, North Korea

1. Auflage 2016
ISBN: 978-1-4835-7163-8
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 200 Seiten

The Hoquiam PF-5 has just been commissioned. For the next month, she will undergo Sea Trials and crew training to prepare her for war. The Captain receives orders cutting short his training schedule, to report to Commander Task Force 90, and escort them to Wonsan, North Korea, where the US Marines will disembark to chase the North Korean Army and Marines northward until they are killed or captured. The Captain expects to be there for about two weeks before returning to Yokosuka or Sasebo, Japan. Instead, the Hoquiam is transferred to Commander Task Force 96 and will support landing operations all the way to the Manchurian border with North Korea. They act as 'Gate Guard' (Harbor Entrance Control Vessel---HECV) at Iwon, Hungnam, Songjin, and Chongjin, North Korea. Meanwhile, she is assigned to duties chasing down sampans or junks moving south to South Korean ports. Urgent dispatches indicate the Chinese Communists are entering the fray. The Hoquiam is urgently dispatched back to Hungnam as HECV and then into the Inner Harbor to support the Naval Facility Activity as the Port Commander. They tie up next to the Port Commander and were resting there when the Army ands Marines arrived from their long walk from the Chosin Reservoir. The crew watched as these exhausted troops boarded LCVPs and LCMs for rides to Hospital ships, Cargo ships, ands Attack Transports. Some were moved aboard the Hoquiam for a ride to South Korea. The crew watched as at least one hundred ships moved out of Hungnam on Christmas Eve loaded with all the troops, their equipment, and some civilians.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Douglas, Mark

Leseproben

TWO

0900, September 27

Patrol Frigate, Hull Number 5

Piedmont Pier

SRF Yokosuka, Japan

Robert Smith QM3, 5 feet 9 inches tall, 203 pounds, nearly bald blond hair (what was left of it), round freckle-faced, USN, the duty Quartermaster, standing at his lectern behind the gangway to the USS Everett, hummed nervously examining what he had carefully printed as the initiating entry in the brand new Rough Log book. His habit of rocking side to side was more pronounced this morning.

PF-5 Officers, Chiefs, and men on parade, 01-deck amidships

Flag Officers present:

Commander, U.S. Naval Forces, Far East

Commander, U.S. Naval Fleet Activities, Yokosuka

         Others present:

         Commander, Escort Squadron Five

         Commanding Officer U.S.S. Everett PF-8

         Supervisor, SRF Re-commissioning Detail

            (Japanese National)

Boiler No. One on line, cross-connected to both engines

Singled up, portside to U.S.S. Everett (PF-8) starboard side

There were no ink smears, erasures, or mistakes. Smith thought it looked pretty good, even though he had been continually jostled as more men squeezed by him hurrying aft to join their division formation.

Four—even three weeks ago—this vessel had been a grim, ugly, smelly bucket of rusty, battered nuts and bolts. The amount of work the crew accomplished and the Herculean tasks completed by the shipyard workers was unbelievable. PF-5, to be a small man-of-war, the United States Ship Hoquiam, whose namesake is the small town of Hoquiam, Washington, next to Aberdeen, at the mouth of the Hoquiam River, sparkled with fresh paint from stem to stern and from the keel up to the radar antenna. Fresh Haze Gray paint was on all vertical surfaces and outside overheads. Sanded Light Gray Deck paint was on all weather decks; unsanded Light Gray Deck paint was on other outside horizontal surfaces. Gleaming Black enamel paint covered the top-ring around the smokestack. The entire vertical length of the Galley stack—known as Charlie Noble—was encased in the same gleaming black paint.

Most of the Engineering Department had worked in shifts around the clock with the Ship Repair Facility Japanese civilians to get the two old three-cylinder reciprocating steam engines ready to answer bells. There was an odor of hot metal in the air, mixed with burned fuel oil. Heat was rising from the smokestack with a faint suggestion of light brown smoke—a good fuel-air mixture in the firebox of Boiler Number One. Boiler Number Two was still not ready.

PF-5 could not fly the National Colors yet. That was not permitted until the Rear Admiral, Commander, U.S. Navy Fleet Activities, Yokosuka, read his orders directing this vessel’s re-commissioning, and Lieutenant Commander Maxfield Julius Brown read his orders directing him to take command of the Tacoma class Patrol Frigate, United States Ship Hoquiam PF-5; a copy of the orders would be appended to the Rough Log.

Five enlisted men were on special duty this morning. Two sailors stood at the bow with a folded Union Jack—a blue flag with 48 stars; one of them was Seaman Apprentice Lee Stewart, USN. Lee, 19, was slim, almost skinny at 6 feet 1 inch tall, 163 pounds, sort of a square face with a smattering of freckles, chicken pox scars, and the teen-aged variety of pimples. The other sailor was holding the folded flag snapped onto the halyard of the jackstaff; Stewart was holding the halyard up-haul, ready to hoist the Union Jack on signal. Two other sailors stood at the stern with a folded American Flag—the National Colors—snapped onto the halyard, ready to hoist. One more sailor stood amidships with the Commission Pennant snapped onto the halyard of the truck of the Foremast. (The truck is the highest point on the ship’s masts below radar antennas.)

The rest of the crew were in tight ranks in an open square surrounding Secondary Conn. Ninety-eight White Hats, in undress White (Baker) without jumper, were in ranks with their respective Chiefs or Leading Petty Officers, by department and division, facing inward. Seven officers and five chiefs were in their khakis without blouse or tie. The Operations Department personnel were farthest away from the ceremonies.

Most of the crew were facing inward where the senior officers stood waiting to begin the commissioning ceremony. But, if they had been facing aft looking beyond the fantail, they would have seen the two rows of the remaining twenty of the twenty-seven patrol frigates across the bay returned from the Soviet Russian Navy moored there, waiting for a decision of what to do with them.

Lieutenant Marston, the Prospective Executive Officer, stepped forward and blew into the microphone. Satisfied that it was ready, he leaned forward and called out,

“Inaugural Crew, aaa ten chun!” He paused until the noise settled down.

“Commander, United States Naval Fleet Activities, Yokosuka, Japan, will read the orders.” LT Marston looked over his shoulder at the Admiral and stepped aside, then stepped back as the Admiral stepped forward to the microphone. The Rear Admiral, USN, whose name has passed in history, was about 45, 5 feet 7 inches tall, squat in build, looked to be about 200 pounds, opened a notebook, looked around at the officers, chiefs, and enlisted men, cleared his throat and began to speak in a nasal drone.

His orders from the Chief of Naval Operations directed him to prepare the United States Ship Hoquiam, Patrol Frigate Number Five, then out of service and out of commission, then moored in Yokosuka Inner Harbor, for active duty in the United States Navy for urgent duty involving the hostilities in Korea. Lieutenant Commander Maxfield J. Brown, USNR, 1100/4, had been ordered by Bureau of Naval Personnel to the U.S.S. Hoquiam PF-5, as the Prospective Commanding Officer. The open mike picked up the flapping of the orders as the wind brought sounds of construction from around the Ship Repair Facility. It was difficult for the assembled crew to distinguish what he was saying. The Admiral paused, turned and recognized Lieutenant Commander Brown. He nodded to him, snapped his notebook shut and stepped back.

Prospective Commanding Officer Lieutenant Commander Maxfield Julius Brown, USNR, exchanged salutes with the Admiral. He stepped forward to the microphone and read his orders in a loud voice so all could hear over the wind. His orders directed him to assume command of the U.S.S. Hoquiam PF-5, and take possession of the vessel, its equipment, publications, and personnel. Pausing, the Lieutenant Commander looked around at the people assembled before him, then bellowed:

“Admiral, I accept command of the Hoquiam.” He saluted the Admiral, who walked over to the Captain, shook his hand, and stood beside him for photographs to record the event. Then, Captain Brown returned to the microphone.

“Boatswain’s Mate, hoist the Commission Pennant,” called the new (no longer prospective) Commanding Officer.

“Aye aye, Captain.”

The four men with the flags who could neither see nor hear any of this had had their ears cocked, waiting for Lieutenant Commander Brown to accept command. A Boatswain’s Mate Second Class (BM2), USNR, from Hoquiam, Washington, had the honor of raising the Commission Pennant. George Peavey, 28, 5 feet 11 inches, 195 pounds, squarish ruddy face, green eyes, and a raspy voice, pulled smoothly on the up-haul, two-blocking the Commission Pennant at the peak of the truck. The three-foot long, very narrow Commission Pennant consisted of a blue field containing seven white stars and a single red and white stripe. It spilled into the breeze and fluttered outward for a moment, and as the puff of wind passed, the ribbon pennant dropped limply below the Truck of the Foremast. This pennant would fly day and night until it was too worn to continue. Without ceremony, another would replace it.

A Quartermaster blew a police whistle as loud as he could. That meant “Shift Colors”. Aft on the fantail, the Color Guard raised the American flag for the first time since World War Two when the U.S. Coast Guard manned her. Forward at the bow, another pair of sailors raised the Union Jack for the first time since World War Two. Smith, the Quartermaster, whistle still clenched in his teeth, noted the time on his wristwatch, 0915 Item, and leaned over his log. He made the last entry in the old rough log of the “Out-Of-Service, Out-Of-Commission PF5.”

0915 U.S.S. Hoquiam (PF-5) formally re-commissioned.

Lieutenant Commander Maxfield Julius Brown, USNR, commanding.

He closed that cloth bound book and re-opened the brand new logbook, cracking the spine, repeating the same information as the first entry in the new logbook. This was the new rough log of the U.S.S. HOQUIAM (PF-5), now In Service, In Commission, as a member of Escort Squadron Five (CortRon Five) and U.S. Navy, Cruiser Destroyer Forces, Pacific Fleet (CruDesPac). Temporarily, the Hoquiam would report to Commander, U.S. Navy Fleet...