A Chronicle by Alvin Robert Hensley
as a member of the crew aboard the USS Boyd DD544
during its WWII tour of duty in the Pacific
Our first Mission of War, assigned to us after reporting to the Fleet at Pearl Harbor, was to make a run down to NOUMEA, NEW CALEDONIA, and pick up the British Carrier, H.M.S. VICTORIOUS and the battleship Indiana, and escort them back to Pearl. On the way down to NOUMEA, we stopped off at Suva, in the Fiji Islands, where we "gassed up" and some of us got to go ashore and do likewise. We went on, then to New Caledonia, picked up the carrier and battlewagon and brought them safely back.
After a few days of training, which included sniping at sleeves towed overhead by planes, and blazing away at sled targets pulled along by small craft, we were pronounced ready for combat and left Pearl on August 25, 1943, as part of a Task Force that was formed for the purpose of occupying Baker Island, a tiny spit of coral, right smack on the equator. Nothing much happened around there except that we must have crossed the equator about 50 times while patrolling that area and our troops occupied the island (which was ours anyway) without any opposition. I do remember that it was hot as heck and I wouldn't have traded places with those guys going ashore for anything.
After we got Baker squared away, we went back to Pearl but left a couple of days later with the Fast Carriers including the Essex, Yorktown, and Cowpens, to go to Wake Island in order to drop a few eggs and work the place over a bit in general. 'D' Day was on October 5th and we let them have it all that day and the next and then headed back home. Those leathernecks that fought so bravely trying to defend Wake would have loved the way that joint looked when we left it.
When we got back to Pearl we had a few more days of chasing sleds and sniping at sleeves again and then we hauled in to the Navy Yard to get our bottom scraped and a few things tightened up.
On November 10th, we steamed out of Pearl, and although destination was unknown, scuttlebutt had it that we were going out on one of the first big offensives of the Pacific War and later, when it was announced that we were headed for the Gilbert Islands with an occupation force, we began to get hepped up with prospects of some real action. Our Task Group was part of Task Force 50, headed by Admiral Spruance, and was the biggest chunk of fighting ships ever to be assembled at that time. It was great stuff to look about us and see ships to the right and left of us as far as the eye could reach.
Our first air strikes were launched against Makin Island in the Gilberts, on the 19th, and we figured our arrival and the calling cards we dropped would bring out the Jap planes like mad hornets, but they didn't come that night, nor the next, but all of a sudden one night they did come-big groups of them, dropping their flares, trying to single us out of the dark. It was an eerie feeling, watching those flares parachute down among us, lighting up the area to the brightness of day, but luckily, they couldn't find their target.
The next night they came out again, dropping their flares and searching for us in the dark, and some of them found us and sneaked in over our formation. But our AA batteries were ready for them and let them have it. We got our first chance to fire that night, our gunners blazed away at a group of about 12 planes that came nearby. Finally, the combined fire of our ships broke up the attack which we found out later was the biggest Jap air raid up to that time on our fleet. We saw about a dozen 'meat balls' flame into the sea and all in all it was good hunting.
We were scared out of our sacks later that night by the General Alarm which had been sounded because of a surface contact dead ahead. As we closed the target, some of the guys claimed they could make out the silhouette of a submarine just a short distance away. It was kind of foggy and visibility wasn't very good, and when we crept in for the 'kill', it crashed dived and we immediately let go with a pattern of depth charges that shook the hinges off us. We let go a few more after that and a few minutes later heard a loud underwater explosion that went off near our fantail which could have meant, either they threw a fish (torpedo) at us, or the Japs could scratch one submarine. The next morning some patrol planes reported a large oil slick near the spot where we dropped the ash cans and though it wasn't positive enough to chalk it up, we figured we had left a lot of Jap submariners with worse than a headache.
Our next mission was one that most of us won't forget very easily. We were assigned to accompany a heavy bombardment group consisting of 6 brand new battleships, a couple of carriers and some destroyers, to blast Nauru, a small but important Jap-held island in the Ocean Group. This spot was a pretty big phosphate center among other things and we were given some specific targets which we managed to take pretty good care of. After about an hour of heavy shellacking by the bigger ships and destroyers, we left the place, smoking and stacked with debris.
While heading back to join the carriers who had sat out the bombardment a short distance away, we were ordered to return and search for possible survivors of a plane crash off the island. One of the planes sent out to help us locate the downed airmen, told us they saw a raft about 2 miles off shore but there were no signs of life nearby. This was about 1130 and just about that time we saw the raft and began to close it. At about 1135, one of our lookouts thought he saw a man in the water, but on getting closer, identified it as a float light. We stopped just about a mile and a half from the beach to take in the area and just seconds later we were hit by two shells-one exploding in the forward engine room and the other bursting right inside our #1 stack. We tried to get out of there in a hurry for by that time the whole island, it seemed, began shooting at us, but our starboard engine was knocked out and number two was plenty slow in responding. We sat there like sitting ducks while the Japs took pot shots at us and then they must have figured we were dead in the water for they began 'laddering'; their bursts right in to the bull's-eye. Then almost miraculously, we got power and began zigzagging around the salvos that were, by that time straddling the ship. At that point our guns got their vital 'juice' and we poured shell after shell in the direction of the flashes from the shore. There was nothing the matter with Jap marksmanship that day, we had about a half dozen near misses and one baby exploded close-by, killing and wounding some of our men manning the waist machine guns. By expert ship handling on the part of our skipper, some terrific shooting by our gunners who silenced several of the shore guns, and by the grace of God, we got out of that one, but only after paying a toll of 12 of our shipmates killed and 8 wounded. All the men in the forward engine room with the exception of one, were killed as a result of that first shell-hit. We held burial service next day at sea; the wounded were taken aboard the battleship Washington, and we limped to Espiritu Santos, in the New Hebrides for repairs.
We learned at Espiritu that we were to go back to the United States for overhaul and battle damage repairs, and although the thought of returning home was an exciting one, it was sobered by the memory of our recent experience. We made but two stops from New Hebrides to San Francisco, a brief layover at Pago Pago, Samoa, a day at Pearl and then 'Frisco. I guess you know that Golden Gate looked might sweet to all of us.
We rejoined the fleet just in time to be included in on the Hollandia and Truk Operation, and after a few days of sniping at sleeves and stuff again, we left for Majuro in the Marshalls, where we joined up with the famous Task Force 58, led by Vice Admiral Mark Mitscher.
While patrolling off New Guinea, shortly after the operation began, the Boyd was picked to make a night-time 'Express-Run' in to within a few hundred yards of the beach in order to draw out any P.T. Boats or small craft we could find and shoot it out with them. Although the job had an exciting prospect we didn't scare up anything but ourselves. We fired on a couple of 'snooper' planes a few days later but they wouldn't come in to our range, however, one of our carrier planes shot down a 'Betty' that day and we were sent out to pick up the survivors. We found 4 of the Jap flyers huddled together in a little red and white rubber boat and after making with the sign language the invite to come aboard, one of them was so eager, he said 'okay', and made a speed run over in our direction. The others didn't seem too happy about the whole thing but cooperated anyway and we tossed them a line. They were a bit banged up and our Doc stitched up some lacerations and then we tried to feed them some of our chow which they wouldn't touch (?), but they did nibble at some rice. Later that day, we transferred them to a carrier.
Towards the tail-end of the operation, some of us 'cans' and a few of the cruisers, steamed over to Satawan, a pretty fair-sized chunk of real estate in the Truk area, and we gave it a pretty thorough massage job. During the bombardment some of our guys saw the wake of a torpedo that just missed our fantail by inches. We didn't like that!
In early June we pulled out of Kwajalein in the Marshall Islands with Task Force 58 and headed over toward the Marianas. We were slated to do some picket duty, bringing us all by our lonesome several miles ahead of our outfit, while the Fast Carriers were conducting air strikes against Guam, Saipan and Tinian, as a softening up job in preparation for their later seizure and occupation. We interrupted this after several days and moved up toward the Bonins, and while steaming along one day, we got the word that a couple of our search planes had spotted a Jap Merchantman and we were giving it a spray job with their machine guns. The Charrette, another tin can, and ourselves, went out to get it. We opened up at about 6000 yards and our first salvo was ' right on'. Our next couple shots caused a loud explosion and the Charrette got in a few hits, then we found the bull's-eye again and that one sent her to the bottom. The ship was the 1900 ton Tatsutakawa Maru and carried a cargo of Jap soldiers and laborers. We helped the Charrette pick up all those survivors wiling to come aboard which numbered about 112 assorted Japs. Some of those Nips in the drink, holding on to pieces of wreckage, debris, or anything that would float, preferred to join Hon. Davey Jones.
After this experience we headed back to the Marianas where our planes were to support 'D' Day landings on Saipan. On June 19th the Japs made their all-out attack attempt on our outfit, but our fighters intercepted them before they could get in to us and had their famous 'Turkey Shoot', destroying nearly every enemy plane in the air. A few of them snuck in however, but our combined AA batteries were ready and we saw many a 'Zeke', 'Oscar' and 'Val' flame into the stream. The Boyd did some fancy shooting on its own that night and although we didn't get any 'sures', we loused up several torpedo runs and gave them a pretty bad time. Later that night, we were attracted by a flashing light off our beam and fished one of our pilots out of the sea who had been forced down and adrift for 8 hours.
The next day, our planes went out after the enemy Task Force in their epic flight that was to be known as the First Battle of the Philippine Sea. That night, when it was learned most of our victorious planes were coming back on a prayer, and a practically empty gas tank, we were sent out a considerable distance from the Carriers to act as directional ship and guide for our returning aircraft. Behind us we could see dozens of powerful searchlights rips aside the dark, beckoning our airmen home. It was a thrilling sight, and it was great to know, too, that none of those guys were expendable. Here we were in Japanese waters, leaving ourselves plenty side open, but there were lives to be saved. Many of our planes made water landings but nearly all their personnel were recovered and we spent the next 24 hours combing the area for the rest.
Another big moment in our war-torn years came a few days later when we were cruising up to the Bonins. One of our alert lookouts, a fellow by the name of Escalante spotted a little yellow object bobbing around the surface about 6000 yards distant and when we came about to investigate, saw a tiny rubber life raft with a weather beaten, half-starved pilot, crouched on it. He didn't have the strength to wave, just kept grinning away at us. Well, you should have seen that guy when we hauled him aboard. Our ship was Heaven and the Bosun's Mate on the other end of the heaving line was St. Peter. It seemed this pilot had been afloat for 11 days on this little rubber outfit, hardly bigger than a hot water bottle, and all he had to drink was the water in his issue flask plus whatever he could tap from the skies, and the squeezing of an occasional fish. He told us that it was his little boy's birthday and he was thinking of home when we came along and out here where anything can happen, you'd think saving a guy's life like that was just another thing for the log, but there was a lump as big as an ice cube in everybody's throat.
We celebrated the 4th of July by bombarding Iwo Jima. There were plenty of fireworks and we got in a few patriotic licks by helping sink a landing craft, shooting up a number of planes on the air strip and lowering a few important-looking buildings to the ground floor. We gave ourselves a 'well done' on that one.
After the Iwo job, we spent a few days on rescue patrol missions, then another DD and the Boyd were sent in to bombard Agana Town and Orote Peninsula on Guam. We knocked out some installations, a pillbox and damaged a building.
Rescue Patrol duty occupied us for a few more days then we headed back for the Bonins with the carriers to work over the landing strip on Chichi Jima. While in that area we tangled with a Jap landing craft and left it for the seagulls.
We officially joined forces with 'Bull' Halsey and his Third Fleet at Eniwetok after the Bonin job, and left a few days later to conduct air strikes against Mindanao, Cebu and Negbos Islands in the Philippines. After hitting the Visayans, we moved on up to Luzon where we broke up another big Jap air attack and then steamed over to Manus Island in the Admiralty's, dropping the hook in Seadler Harbor.
Early October found us leaving Manus for our next assignment which, we learned, would take us to Okinawa in the Ryukyus and from there over to Formosa. We didn't have much trouble in the Okinawa area but ran into a hornet's nest at Formosa. The Jap raids came 'round the clock', they hit us night and day, and there was hardly a moment when we weren't at General Quarters because of 'bogies' in the neighborhood. The night of Friday, October 13th was a lulu. We were under constant attack and in one of the heavy raids the cruiser Canberra which was only a few hundred yards off our bow, was hit by an aerial torpedo. The next night was even worse, they were all over the place, and one of them dropped a fish on the Houston.
Many of the Houston men were ordered to abandon ship when it was believed she wouldn't stay afloat and with the assistance of the Cowell, a DD in our division, we began picking up survivors. We picked up 385 men all told and our crew did a bang up job in sticking to their rescue stations in spite of the fact that we were still under attack and our guns were busy driving of enemy planes, one of which was sent to blaze into the sea.
The Houston, still miraculously afloat, and the Canberra were taken in tow and we limped slowly back toward port with the Jap planes pecking at us night and day. While on the long, slow voyage home to Ulithi, we got another and bigger scare. We were told, that if an expected Jap surface raid which was supposed to be on its way down to stymie our landing the Philippines, were to come off, we, 'us cripples', were to go out and head them off. Halsey, later, referred to us good-naturedly as 'streamlined bait', and even though it didn't pan out, we didn't see anything funny.
On October 24th we switched over to another outfit that was heading for Ulithi but that same afternoon reversed our course and raced for the Philippines to assist the 7th Fleet who had made contact with a large Jap surface force. Planes form our group took off and hit enemy ships which had by that time advanced through San Bernardino Strait. Before we could get in much closer, the Jap Fleet had been practically blasted out of the sea.
In the Luzon area with the Fast Carriers a few days later, we got a couple of shots at a surfaced sub, but it crashed dived immediately. We laid out a barrage of depth charges and then decided to spend the rest of the night waiting for it to surface-if it could. Shortly after sundown about 8 or 9 assorted 'Judys', 'Vals' and 'Kates' came winging down on us and after doing a lot of fancy maneuvering and shooting we managed to scare them off, but not until half of them at least had dropped their fish, several of which criss-crossed just inches ahead of our bow and stern. We kept up the hunt in spite of the interruption but left after deciding he wasn't going to come up.
In between this operation and the next, we sandwiched in a little 'USO' duty which consisted of patrol and escort jobs between Guam, Saipan and Eniwetok, but by January 24th, 1945, we were back at IWO leveling the countryside as part of a heavy bombardment group. While taking pot shots at some very choice targets, a 'Jill' made a pass at us but we turned it away with a crippling hit and another tin can a few hundred yards away sent it spinning into the drink. The Jap shore batteries welcomed us a couple of minutes later and it looked as though they had singled us out as a primary target. Their shells were dropping about us like hailstones. We made top speed getting out of their range.
'D' Day on Iwo Jima was February 19th and we were there. We had brought some Transports out from Guam and after they unloaded their green-clad Marines into Higgins Boats, Alligators and other amphibious craft at 'H' Hour, we watched the first assault waves clamber on to the beach and had a Boyd's-eye view of our first Marine landing. There was some mighty tough fighting going on after the beach heads were established, especially on the incline that rose sharply from the volcanic-ash shore. Mt. Surabachi, an extinct volcano, was erupting with the fire of hundreds of hidden Jap guns of all caliber and they rained death on those crawling leathernecks.
We moved in close to the beach and opened upon the pillboxes and caves along the side of the mountain and the exposed side of the crater. We spent most of the afternoon working on the gun nests and emplacements that were doing so much damage to our advancing troops, moving to either side of the island as we were needed.
Lending fire support to the Marines who continued to make slow, painful progress on that tiny, gun infested island, was our main job at Iwo, and it was a 24 hour one with us, too. By day we blasted the path ahead of our next advance. At night we kept up a constant harassing fire, keeping the Japs out of their sacks, and every so often throw in an illumination shell that kept them from counter-attacking.
It was a great thrill for all of us to finally see 'Old Glory' flying from the top of Mt. Surabachi. We figured we had played small role in that victory but the great honors want to those fighting 'Devil Dogs'. It was their show and what a terrific performance.
We knew we had a long siege of sea duty ahead of us when we pulled out of Leyte, in the Philippines, March 21st for our next operation. We were headed straight for the land of Sukiyaki and Tokio Rose with the idea of taking over a big slice of the Ryukyus and particularly Kerama Retto and Okinawa, both practically 'spittin' distance from the Imperial Palace.
Our first job was protecting the 'Jeep' carriers while airmen flew support of the Kerama landings and relatively speaking it wasn't bad pickin's. We had heard of the intensive suicide campaign against our shipping closer in to the islands and the Japs were throwing every trick in the book at us and some that weren't. They brought 'Baka' Bombs, suicide boats and the 'Kamikazes' out after us but we took Kerama and grabbed off half of Okinawa in pretty quick time. The Japs made a couple of all-out raids on some of our shipping at Okinawa which caused considerable damage and we decided that we were pretty well off with the 'Jeeps'.
Later the 'Kamikazes' took particular delight in diving into our Destroyers who patrolled on picket station and there was one field day when each of the picket stations was 'rammed' by at least one suicider. We didn't want any of that, but-we got it!
Guess that was the ruggedest duty we ever had. We were in some mighty tough spots in those days on 'Roger Peter' but our luck held out. We saw one can a few hundred yards away get hit by a 'Kamikazer' and when we came up to give them a hand, we saw the damage done by just one plane and it was unbelievable. Suicide attacks on destroyers later were so frequent that it was hardly news to hear of a tin can getting sunk. We, too, were expendable.
We had out share of suicide attacks, more than we care to remember and although there were many dark moments, we luckily came through unscathed. There was one night when the Japs made about 25 passes at us, we were on our toes a'plenty. We knocked one off and our guns managed to talk the others out of it. The destroyer that relieved us that night wasn't so lucky. Soon after we pulled out, she 'took' one and later, sank.
We not only had our luck but at times actually depended on 'miracles' to get us out of tight spots and one night when the moon as at its brightest, they came again. Plenty of them. But our gunners were hot and everybody was on the ball and they couldn't get through our fire. Just when they seemed to be heading back for the 'kill', the moon began to black out and almost immediately after, we were swallowed into the dark. Our skipper told the guns to keep blazing away, saying 'if they can't see you, make them feel you' and we really poured the lead out. Two of them burst into bits, the others tossed in the sponge. It was quite a night.
We think being on picket duty was a fitting climax to our job out here. I'm sure we did our share and now that its all over, we're proud to have been part of that great destroyer outfit that took everything the Japs could throw at them and came back for more. (now I'd like to get home).