While I was in the NAVY during World War II, I was stationed on an ammuition ship called the Bernard Victory. One night when leaving Yap in the Islands, one of my buddies was on bow watch when a sudden storm came and darkened the horizon.
I was in the mess hall having a cup of coffee when I suddenly felt the ship rock and make a quick turn. I knew something was wrong so I ran out on top deck. Through the fog, about 15 feet from our ship was another ship. It was a fast moving troop ship. I then realized we had missed death by about 15 feet. If the troop ship had rammed us every man on both ships would have been killed, because we were very heavily loaded with ammo.
That incident made nearly every man on the ship nervous, but
most of them went back to bed. At midnight I went on bow watch. I had been on watch about three and a half hours when the submarine alarm went off. I knew then that we were being followed by a submarine. We did not know if it was a Jap or American. At that moment the silent darkness was broke by the general alarm bell and three short blasts of the ships whistle. I turned quickly and jerked the tarp off the 3 inch gun and opened the ready ammo box. By that time the men were on the guns ready for action. I did notice that dawn was breaking by this time.
Then came the awful moment of waiting. Yes, waiting for some dirty Jap to plant a torpedo in our side and the end of us all. Or... hoping maybe it would be a American Submarine. There was not a sound heard. And then the silence was peirced by the roar of our number 5 inch gun on the stern. Just then over the loud speaker I heard, "Submarine, dead stearn". You could barely see it. Finally the first torpedo came into sight. It only missed us by about 20 feet. The the second one came, which missed us again by about the same distance. By that time our guns were making it too hot for the Jap sub and so they submerged.
In this same spot, July 29, 1945, my brother, who was on the USS Indianapolis (heavy cruiser), lost his life when his ship was torpedoed and sunk. His name was James Preston Nunley. This short story was written in memory of him. |
