SHIP, CREW SAILED INTO HISTORY
By Foreign Correspondent, Thomas Sullivan
The seed for my wanderlust, on the seas of the world, was planted in
me when I enlisted in the U.S. Navy in World War II. I was an enlisted
man in the Atlantic Fleet and later was commissioned and sailed the Pacific
Ocean and the South China Sea for two years in the Pacific Fleet.
One story of those years covers 18 days in late 1944 and early 1945.
I was the gunnery officer on the LST 912. LST, in Navy manuals, stands for Landing
Ship Tank. For all those who served on LSTs, they were known as “Large Slow
Targets.” And thus they were, with standard speed at nine knots.
A ship like this made old Navy men shudder. To see 4,000-plus tons ram
the beach and then drop the ramp, and tanks and trucks and soldiers pour out onto
the beach was against all erudite Navy training.
So it was. We were beached in Humboldt Bay, New Guinea. It was Dec. 24,
1944. In the morning hours we loaded U.S. Navy Communications Unit 40A, Group 2,
with all their equipment. In the afternoon we loaded the U.S. Army 79th Construction
Battalion with all their rolling stock, equipment and supplies. The passenger list for the
day totaled 343 men.
On naval vessels every passenger is entered in the ship’s log. The listing is by
name, rate or rank and serial number. It may sound repetitious, but this procedure also
takes place on the day the passengers leave the ship.
Early on Dec. 25 we sailed in convoy with other ships. We were under orders from
C.T.F. 78-operation plan 103-44 with Group 5 echelon G.I. Ultimately our destination was for
an amphibious landing in the Lingayen Gulf on the Island of Luzon in the Philippines.
On Dec. 29, 1944, we anchored in Port Sansapor, New Guinea. We were anchored
there waiting for other ships to join the convoy. Early in the morning of the 30th, there was
an air raid. Everybody was shooting, and the planes that didn’t get shot down left the area.
The afternoon of Dec. 30, we got underway. By now there were 21 LSTs and a growing
number of naval vessels of all descriptions.
As we sailed north in the South China Sea, more and more ships joined the convoy; and
enemy action was anytime around the clock. The action involved enemy planes and submarines.
By Jan. 7, 1945, the convoy was moving; and we saw our own ships almost from horizon to horizon.
All night long, ships were making smoke to confound enemy planes and submarines.
On Jan. 8, 1945, at 0400 hours, an enemy plane dived into the smoke. I am sure one of our
Navy nightfighters was on his tail. Well, the plane that dived into the smoke hit our ship. It was only
by the grace of God that only four were injured and four killed. That was pretty lucky, considering that
the total passengers and crew were 467.
The LST 912 also received total damage to an LCVP, and railings on two decks and vents and
two guns were knocked out. If that plane had come in one degree lower, I wouldn’t be with you today.
During the early daylight hours, enemy action was very active. During the action one of the
Zeros that got knocked out of the sky fell into the AKA Calloway. It was not our time, I guess, as two
air bombs hit 200 yards off the beam.
By 1400 hours we had a burial at sea, latitude 15 degrees north and 179 degrees east longitude
for the four crew members who were killed in the early morning hours. The 79th Engineers had a chaplain
in their unit. Father William Loesch conducted the burial at sea.
By Jan. 11, 1945, we beached in the Lingayen Gulf, Luzon, The Philippines. We put ashore U.S.
Navy Communications Unit 40A and the U.S. Army 79th Construction Battalion.
Later on Jan. 11, 1945, we joined up with other ships and headed south into the South China
Sea for the rear area to effect repairs.
A few months later, when Manila was secured, our ship was there. I crossed the Passig River in
Manila on two Bailey bridges, and it is interesting to note those Bailey bridges were put there by the 79th
Construction Battalion of the U.S. Army. We landed those bridges in the Lingayen Gulf along with the 79th
Engineers.
Thomas Sullivan has been a resident of Lake Oswego since 1962 and is an occasional contributor to the
Lake Oswego Review.