My 1102 Days of W.W. II

Front matter

"MY 1102 DAYS OF W. W. II"

By ERNEST L. SECREST

EDITED BY ROSE S. SECREST

Forward

- FOREWORD -

This is a brief summary of my service for my country in the Seabees during World War II, from 1-11-43 to 11-6-45. During this time I was with the Special U.S.N. Seabee Construction Battalion. I served time in the Fijis, Guadalcanal, Bougainville and the Ulithi in the Western Carolines. Part of the time we were attached to the famous 3RD Marine Division in the Pacific.

I dedicate the following memoirs to my wife, Rose, and children, Lynn Secrest Brainard and Ernest L. Secrest II and other members of my family, so that they may better understand my contribution in the armed forces.

Chapter 1

I. TRAINING

On 11-1-42, I enlisted in the Navy Seabees as a Machinist Mate First Class Petty Officer, and was called to report for Active Duty at Jacksonville, Florida, 1-11-43, for induction into the service. From there I was taken to Camp Bradford near Norfolk, Virginia, where I went through six weeks of basic training in the 85th Construction Battalion. I was pulled out of this battalion on 2-24-43, along with a number of other experienced men of different trades and sent to Camp Peary near Williamsburg, Virginia, and placed in a replacement center. In a few days we were placed in the 6th Special Battalion which was to serve as a stevadore outfit. The word "Special" meant that we had been selected for our task.

In a very short time we were required to learn cargo handling plus all types of Marine Combat Training. The Marine training us - an N.C.O. - had seen service overseas and was just as tough and mean as they get to be. If there was a mud-hole around, he would see that we got in it before the day was over; we obeyed him as we didn't dare open our mouth. Luckily there were not many mud-holes because the ground was frozen solid most of the time. In addition I had my share of other duties, such as KP, guard duty and policing the grounds, which consisted mostly of picking up cigarette butts. But we had one thing in our favor, no one went hungry as they fed us very well.

One night when the temperature was at zero, Brill - another mate - and I had guard duty from 0200 to 0600 on connecting posts. Brill said he was freezing. I said, "Why don't you put on more clothes?" He replied that he had on all the clothes he owned.

While in replacement we were sleeping in tents and before going to bed I removed only my shoes and put on my coveralls over the clothes I had on, for we were provided with one blanket only. We had a coal stove, but being in a tent it didn't do much good. The cold weather was hard to take after spending the five previous winters in Florida.

The following poem tells what one mate (F. W. Tagtmeier) thought of Camp Peary:

Three months in Camp Peary, Three months of nerve wracking hell. I can't say I'm sorry I'm leaving, I'm ready to travel a spell.

So I'm packing my sea bag to travel, I'm washing the mud from my face. And I don't give a damn where they send me, As long as it's some other place.

We live like a hog in a mud hole, In a 2x4 hut made of tin. They say it's the rain that makes it muddy, But it's only the tide coming in.

They can send me out front in the morning, And the Axis can turn on the heat. If the only way back is through Peary, Don't worry, I'll never retreat.

Here's another poem along the same line, author unknown:

You can have our Army khaki, but I'll take my Navy Blue. There is still another fighter that I'll introduce to you. His uniform is sure well known, to which you will agree. The Huns call him a seadog - but he's really a Seabee.

He came to sea with one idea - to work at a trade he knew. A rating he got to fit the trade, but the training was something new. He trained down at Camp Peary, the land that God forgot, Where the mud is 14 inches deep, and the rain just doesn't stop.

Where it's cold as ice one day and mighty warm the next Where he hears about the Civil War and learns the fight was fixed. Where he stands in line most everyday from early morn 'til night Where he learns to march - throw hand grenades and ends full of fight.

He's put on K.P. detail and many dish he's dried He's also learned to make beds - a broom he sure can guide. He's peeled a million onions and twice as many spuds. He also spends his leisure time in washing out his duds.

Now, honey, take this tip from me - I hand it on to you Just grab yourself a Seabee, for there's nothing he can't do And when he gets to Heaven - to Saint Peter he will tell A Seabee, Sir, reporting - I've served my time in Hell.

As a native born Virginian, I didn't agree with everything said in these two poems, but they still tell a pretty good story of Camp Peary.

Chapter 2

II. CALIFORNIA BOUND

On 4-5-43 our battalion boarded two trains for the west coast. After a five-day ride in a day coach and hardly enough to eat, we arrived at Port Hueneme, California, 50 miles north of Los Angeles, the naval embarkation point. They used two trains because of fear of sabotage, and, in addition, we were routed differently, as we traveled across the states. At chow time they would stop and connect onto two diner cars (all of which was planned ahead). Being afraid of someone deserting, we were not allowed off of the train for any exercise. We complained so much they, finally, let us off after four days, at Yuma, Arizona. All along we were confined to an assigned car with a guard at each end. Only officers or anyone with a pass was permitted to leave the car.

The following day we were given a fourteen day leave. I purchased a round-trip train ticket back to my home in Virginia to spend a few days there before going overseas, and then again back to California. My parents home was only 250 miles from Camp Peary where we had just left, and almost in sight of the railroad we traveled on. During the last 18 days I had crossed the United States three times from coast to coast by train, in day-coaches. It was surprising how they kept an eye on us going to California and then turned us loose for 14 days.

During the few days in California they gave us lectures on various subjects before going overseas, and issued our "pieces" (M1 Rifles) and other necessary items for a full pack. We went out on the rifle range for target practice a number of times to get the feel of our pieces. This was down my alley. With my score of 120 points out of a possible 125, I qualified for a sharp shooter immediately, but the Seabees did not recognize this accomplishment.

While there we went out of the camp area on a work detail crossing the road into the dock area. About the time we arrived there, I found it necessary to look for a head (rest-room). I asked permission from the Chief in charge to return across the road back into camp, and that was no problem. In starting back across the road I was halted by a marine guard who asked: "Where are you going?" I told him. He said, "You are not going to cross that road, you may start across but I am going to shoot you." I didn't start across, for he meant what he said. I went back to camp and sacked up.

Chapter 3

III. ISLAND X HERE WE COME

On 4-30-43, our battalion of approximately 1000, along with several other outfits, the C. B. Battalion, the V.M.B. 312 Unit and the Argus 14 Unit, a total of 3500 troops went aboard a troop transport ship, the MORMACPORT.

That afternoon we pulled anchor and headed for parts unknown. We were cautioned not to fall overboard, because the ship would not stop to pick us up, for fear of enemy submarine.

When I woke up the next morning I had to head for the "rail" along with alot of other men and try to empty my stomach, (even though it was already empty). After that I had no problem of being seasick.

Very few people on the ship knew where we were going, the rest of us had no idea, but from the scuttlebutt that went on, you could pick any island in the Pacific.

After being at sea for a few days someone spotted the Southern Cross just above the horizon. As we continued to watch this each night it would be a little higher in the sky. This told us we were going south as well as west.

It was very hot below deck, particularly in the day time, and a half way decent seat on deck of the ship was always at a premium. One day "Utah" Johnson and I had good ones in the shade, so George Miller walks up in a hurry and said, "Johnson, you are wanted at the OD's Office" (Officer of the Day). Away he went, but he was back shortly and calling Miller names I can't print here. Of course, Miller wanted his seat.

After ten days at sea, as we were about to cross the Equator, the honorable "King Neptune" came aboard. He is King of the ship while there and no one dares cross his path. The majority of us not having crossed the Equator before were known as Polliwogs. As Polliwogs we had to go through the initiation ceremony performed by the more experienced voyagers, known as Shellbacks, that had been through this initiation before. Going through this ordeal we were well aware that you had officially become a Shellback.

On 5-12-43, a Tuesday, we went to bed and surprisingly the next morning when we arose, it was Thursday. Going west we had crossed the International Date Line during the night, which caused us to lose a day.

For the long and lonely two weeks we were traveling at about 22 knotts, and our speed was our only defense against submarines. Sitting on deck at night we could tell by the position of the stars that we were on a zig-zag course, to keep from being tracked by enemy submarines. During this time we saw only two other ships, (friendly). Water, water, water.

Chapter 4

IV. SO THIS IS ISLAND X - FIJI

On 5-14-43 we sighted land for the first time since leaving the states. This turned out to be Viti Levu, the main island of the Fiji group, 1700 miles N. E. of Australia. We landed at Vunda Point, disembarked and set up camp nearby, this was about half way between Lautoka and Nadi (Nandi) on the northwest side of the island.

Only half - about 500 of the battalion stopped at Viti Levu, C & D Companies and half of headquarters. I never did learn where the other half (A and B Companies) went.

The Fijians people were good-natured and friendly. If we visited one of their homes (grass huts) they would insist on us having a drink of Kava, a brew they made from the roots of a pepper plant grown there. It tasted putrid. "Bula Monocco" was their way of greeting one another, and consequently we were all greeted "Bula Joe." About 50 years prior to our being there, the natives from these and other islands practiced cannibalism.

Fortunately the Marines and Army were there first to set up a base before the Japanese did.

Lautoka, a small town nearby had a bar and a few stores where we could buy (British) Indian jewelry and a lot of other junk. Rice (one of my tent mates), and I usually spent our Saturday's Liberty there. If we arrived there at twelve o'clock noon when the bar opened, we could get a cold Australian beer; after that they were hot, because it was sold so fast from the keg. We soon learned to like it warm, as the Australians and English do. We had no problem getting a ride to and from town. The (Army and Marine) trucks would pick us up. On one trip we rode into town on top of a load of 500 pound, live bombs.

Our main job was what we had been trained for - handling cargo from ship to shore, shore to ship and ship to ship. As there were not any loading docks on the island large enough for ships to dock by, nor that had an area on land for storage nearby, all cargo had to be moved by barge from one place to another.

Everything the troops used on the island from toothpicks to 32-ton Sherman Tanks had to be brought in, as well as supplies for the fighting ships. These ships wanted a supply base as near as possible to the front line or where their action was to eliminate travel time for supplies.

The cargo ships carried these supplies from the states to wherever necessary. Some arrived completely loaded with gasoline and oil (50 gallon drums), some ammunition (shells and bombs), others with mixed or general cargo, trucks, jeeps, guns (90, 105 mm and 5-inch), canned food and all the other supplies necessary to conduct a campaign of this magnitude.

It is inconceivable how much work is involved in unloading an average size Cargo Ship, for it is capable of carrying about 7000 tons (depending on the type of cargo) in her 5 Holes or Hatches - two of which are forward of the Bridge and the other three aft. When necessary we could assign around the clock a crew (18 or 20 men) to each hole to move a lot of cargo.

For a while I was assigned as coxswain on a LCM (landing craft medium 25 tons capacity), that was used to move cargo in the Fiji. The difficult part of the task was having to stay with this craft day and night except for the times I went to chow. It had no cover to get out of the weather and no sleeping quarters, so I used an army cot and my poncho for shelter. If the weather became to rough, I had to tie down the cot so it would not slide off into the water. Sharks fins were a common sight around most any day.

If I happen to be at anchor in the harbor at meal time one of the men from camp would come out to take me ashore. One evening during a bad thunderstorm my ride who was using a small boat came half way out into the bay - became frightened and returned to camp. His superior ordered him back to pick me up. I was thankful for the rescue, because I was being pitched every direction on that flat bottom barge.

The LCM had two 220 H.P. marine engines that made this craft very powerful and maneuverable. This power was required to pull it back off the beach. With a load you could throw the rudder first right and then left to "walk" the barge back off of the beach. You could reverse one of the screws and spin it around like a top.

The Fijians, by far, had the most delicious pineapple that I had ever tasted. They were huge and golden yellow. The natives lads would bring them to us for a mere 25 cents apiece.

Chapter 5

V. MOVING ON UP - GUADALCANAL

We left the Fijis on 12-30-43, on a Navy attack troop transport along with several other combat and support ships. Two days later 1-1-44, we stopped at Espiritu Santo Island of the New Hebrides group, 1100 miles N.E. of Australia - the Navy's port of rendezvous with other ships. Ashore all we saw was a few natives and coconut groves. Leaving there the same afternoon with more ships of all types, we knew we were bound for enemy territory.

After two more days (1-3-44) we pulled into the bay at Tenarue Beach, Guadalcanal of the Solomon Islands, 700 miles east of New Guinea. At this time the beachhead was pretty well secured, but there were still some enemy on other parts of the island.

I had heard of the steaming jungles but never thought I would ever see them as real as they were on this island. In most places the undergrowth was so dense it never dried out and the humidity stayed close to 100 percent. It would rain for a few minutes, then the clouds would move on and the sun would bear down causing the steam to actually rise from the jungles. Shortly it would be raining again, with another repeat performance.

The most beautiful sights we encountered on this island were flocks of wild parrots. Their feathers were brilliantly colored in different combinations of blue, green, red and yellow. They were continuously chattering and flying around carefree in the trees as any wild birds would.

We were there for about two weeks without much to do; so this gave us a chance to look around at all the wrecked planes around Henderson Field and the burned out ships on the beach. We visited a native village and, also, "Bloody Knoll", which overlooked Henderson Field. This knoll was a network of fox-holes, that had exchanged hands several times a day when the Japanese were trying to retake this airfield. Whichever side controlled Bloody Knoll controlled the airfield.

This native village we visited was quite an adventure; one of the men in the group of about eight checked out a truck and said get in, we're going for a ride, and off we went. Evidently the driver knew where he was going for after a couple of miles on this road he turned up a stream for another mile or so. I thought he would never make it, as the stream was nothing but a continuous bed of large stones and deep water holes. Their village consisted of 8 or 10 huts built up on stilts or piling, the floor being about head high. We saw no reason for this as they were built on high ground. They were friendly but we didn't find out much since the natives did not speak English, nor did we speak their language.

We knew there was something big in the future because of all the "Gold Braid" around. There were Admiral Chester W. Nimitz, Vice-Admiral Williams F. "Bull" Halsey Jr. and all of their Lieutenants. In addition there was alot of scuttlebutt as to our next move.

Chapter 6

VI. MOVING ON UP - BOUGAINVILLE

We left Guadalcanal on 1-18-44, on a LCI - Landing Craft Infantry - along with a flotilla of ships. After two days at sea we went into Empress Augusta Bay at Bougainville, just as it was getting daylight. This was planned so as to enable us to unload and give the ships time to get back out on the high seas before dark. The Jap's planes would be there with their bombs as soon as it was dark. They waited until then in order to avoid our fighter planes. Bougainville, another one of the Solomon Islands group, about 50 miles wide, 150 miles long and 6 degrees south of the equator, was well fortified by the enemy.

We landed on Puruata, a very small island in the bay which was about one half mile in diameter and one half mile offshore, as the water was too shallow for the LCI to go into Torokina Beach which was located on the main island of Bougainville.

While the ships were being unloaded all guns were manned as a precautionary measure. I was assigned to a 50 caliber machine gun on the bow, that I had target practice on the first day out. About the time we sat down to eat breakfast the PA system blared out, "A plane has been picked up on radar; all gunners man your guns on the double." Shortly another message - "Hold your fire - this is a friendly plane - repeat: hold your fire - this is a friendly plane." This turned out to be a damaged carrier-based plane diverted to land at our air strip rather than to attempt a landing on the carrier.

Just before dark we were able to obtain an LST landing craft to take us over to the the main island, where we slept in the jungles and ate K rations until we cleared a spot for our tent and had the mess hall operating. The tent location we (Morris, Sloan, Rice and I) were assigned happened to have a small stream running through it. I wrote Rose we were living in class as we had running water in our tent. This was soon corrected by a ditch back of the tent and also a board floor.

Before the American forces landed on Bougainville, the Navy had really poured the big gun ammunition and bombs into the beachhead area, particularly the small island of Puruata. This left the island in a desolate shambles of blasted trees and countless shell holes, the majority of the Japanese were killed; the rest committed suicide, rather than being taken prisoners - consequently it was given the name "Suicide Island."

When we - the United States - went into Bougainville, our intentions were not to take the whole island but to gain a beachhead. This was accomplished. This horseshoe-shaped area was about 5 miles deep and 15 miles around which included two airfields taken from the enemy. This was secured and a three-stage defense line built around it.

For several months the Japanese planes came over every night just after dark and this meant a total blackout. They did not do a lot of damage - it was more of a nuisance raid that kept us in our foxholes for about half of the night. They did hit one of our gasoline storage dumps which caused a terrific explosion and fire. They had a big airbase 300 miles west of us on Rabaul, plus a huge naval base 900 miles north of us at Truk Lagoon.

Our real danger was from flak or shrapnel falling from the exploding 90 millimeter shells being thrown at the planes. To protect ourselves we built bunk-size shelves over our bunks and stored our sea bags, duffle bags and all our gear there to protect us in case we were not able to make it to the foxhole in time. This flak would come down about the speed of a bullet which would go right through the tent and floor into the ground.

Our beachhead area had a squadron of Australian fighter pilots, a battalion of Fijians soldiers in addition to the American troops. All total there were about 45,000 of us at the height of the conflict. Our estimate of the enemy troops at that time was about half as many as ours, but it turned out that there were about 80,000 of them.

Both Guadalcanal and Bougainville are very mountainous, the latter had two active volcanoes. One of those, Mt. Bogona, over a mile high, was only about ten miles from our camp. It steamed and smoked continually; a number of times at night we were awakened by its rumbling and shaking the ground.

The 3rd Marine Division - 2nd Raider Reg. placed this sign on Bougainville in honor to the Seabees of which I have a picture:

When we reach the isle of Japan With our caps at a jaunty tilt We'll enter the city of Tokyo On the roads the Seabees built.

On 2-27-44, 27 months since Pearly Harbor, our forces launched the largest naval air strike of W. W. II against the huge Japanese naval base in the Truk Lagoon, sinking more than 50 of their ships of the First, Second, Third and Fourth Fleet, destroying 265 of their planes in the air and on the ground, plus the majority of their ground fortifications.

Chapter 7

VII. THE SECOND BATTLE OF BOUGAINVILLE

In March 1944, the Japs made an assault to drive us off the island, which they almost accomplished. They over-ran the two outer defense lines in places but were stopped by the third line, with the exception of a few that managed to slip through. Previously the marines had secured the beachhead area and had already moved on, and the area had been turned over to the army.

A call was made for re-enforcement and in a few days the harbor was full of troop, cargo and combat ships. As it turned out the troops were not used at that time, but we did unload the badly needed ammo, bombs, and gasoline. We were put on an 18-hour day - 6 on and 12 off. We had to go to work 6 hours earlier each day when you think in terms of a 24 hour day. It was impossible to get your system adjusted to this, (18 hour day), but we lived through it with very little complaining at a time like this.

On one occasion at the height of the push we were unloading 500 pound bombs onto Ducks (a 2 1/2 ton amphibious truck nicknamed "DUCK"), which would take their loads to the beach and right on to the fighter strip. The planes (Douglas dive bombers) would load up and head for the enemy line. The enemy was so close we could see the planes from the ship dive to drop their bombs. The planes would come out over the harbor from the air strip and one plane accidently dropped her bombs not far from the ship we were working on. The pilot immediately turned around and went back for another load.

With the use of these Ducks we were able to save time since we did not have to transfer the cargo onto a truck at the beach. Still it was difficult to load these ducks by the ship, as the water there was never very calm. They were about the size of a heavy truck and almost impossible to set the load down in the cargo area, as they were continually bobbing up and down and sideways like a cork. On one occasion we had a load come down on one side of the duck as it was coming up caused the vehicle to turn over and sink. The driver managed to swim to the Jacobs ladder and climb aboard the ship safely.

To better understand the above you should know the procedure of this type of unloading a ship. One of the booms is rigged to hold the cable approximately over the center of the ship's Hatch and the other one is set to hang out over the side over the barge. The winch operator who sits in the center of the ship by the controls right near the ship's hatch, cannot see the load once he lets it over the outside of the ship, where the average deck is 30 or 40 feet above the water. He must take orders from a signalman by the rail where he can see both the load and the barge. Thus, it is obvious that the margin of error and danger is great, with the ship rolling and the duck or barge moving.

The above method of unloading cargo is limited to the weight per load, depending on the size of the ship and its structure, and is used mostly on loose cargo that requires a net. On heavier loads such as trucks, guns and tanks it is necessary to use the "Jumbo Boom" which is more complicated and slower. This single wooden boom (being 15 or 18 inches in diameter and about 40 feet long) carries the load from the ship's hatch to the barge (or whatever) on a heavy cable and moving the load sideways by heavy lines being controlled from two powered capstans, one near each side of the ship.

On one occasion in using the Jumbo Boom we worked ourselves into an embarrassing situation, as we were unloading a 5 Inch Gun weighing 5 or 6 tons. As usual the men on the two capstans were taking orders from the signalman when one of them failed to release his line (controlling the side movement of the load) as the other man was taking his side in. This broke the 1 1/2 inch line - allowing the load to swing out over the water, ahead and beyond the barge. No one volunteered to crawl out on the boom to attach a line, but someone came up with the idea of lassoing it. This soon relieved us of this predicament.

The heaviest piece of equipment we unloaded was a 60 ton floating target, used for Naval gun practice.

During the push a few of the enemy broke through the lines into our territory, hiding out during the day and coming out at night to find something to eat in our mess halls. Several were captured or killed. One of our men - a cook - was killed with a knife as he went into the mess hall early one morning.

If for any reason we left the camp other than work (and sometimes then), we had better have the M1 with us. When we went to bed that rifle and my knife were ready and within reach. The latter was an eleven inch bowie knife that my brother Roy had made for me.