31 March 1946

19:30

Dear Folks,

Here I is in Newport. By the grace of God, and nothing else, I’m okay. Believe me, this has been a very eventful weekend and week too, as far as that goes.

To start things off with a bang, the night we got here and we were anchored, aeration gasoline fumes exploded in the hanging deck. It’s really a peculiar sensation to hear fire call after an explosion and realize it’s no drill. It did quite a bit of damage, put four guys in sick bay with burns and one fellow knocked silly by the concussion. In the compartment next to the hanging deck, the bedding on the bunkers was all rolled up and thrown to the forward end of the compartment by the blast. It ripped cables out of the escape trunks, stripped ‘em clean. Smoke poured out of every ventilator on the ships. It took about a half hour to get the fire out. We thought for a while we were going back to Norfolk, but we didn’t.

But that was just a prelude. In the past twenty-four hours I have been through quite an experience, a pretty terrible one to say the least. Yesterday Fritz and I went into Newport on liberty. We had the weekend. About 12:15 night we went to the fleet launching to catch a liberty boat back. 38 men piled into an open motor whale boat (50 footer) and shoved off. It was terribly rough and everybody was getting soaked by the spray. The wind was blowing a young gale. It was pitch black. About twelve thirty, the boat hit a reef with a terrifying crunch. This bay is full of them and the coxswain missed the buoy. We were stuck good and proper right broadside against the waves. Then the boat started shipping water over the side and we were being thrown against the rocks. We sent out an SOS with a big flashlight like the red one we’ve got at home. It was an hour before any of the ships picked it up. It seemed like a week. Most of us by that time had Mae West Jackets on but some didn’t. The nearest land seemed to be about a mile away. The rocks and the pounding water started putting holes in the side and although we were sitting on a reef, the tide was coming in and the water got deeper. After a while we couldn’t even see the reef. Fritz was the only one that knew any code and he was sending as best he could up on the bow, holding on for dear life while the waves swept over the side. A few of the boys were drunk when they got on but by that time were cold sober. There was a huge hole in the side and we were going down pretty fast. After another hour or so, a landing barge came out from one of the cruises and after an hour of trying, they had to give up and go back. That was the most disheartening feeling I’ve ever seen. By that time everybody was knee-deep in water. I was so cold I thought I would shake to pieces. Believe it or not, nobody got panicky and I swear I wasn’t scared. I guess I was too cold. One big hole had been bashed in on the side where I was standing and I was really drenched. Every time a wave came up the water poured in. Finally, about dawn, another landing barge came up from the Columbia and the executive officer of the Columbia was handling the barge. They are awful clumsy in calm water and you can imagine how hard they are to handle in rough water. That was the trouble with the first one. He almost rammed us once and kept on going on the reef himself. But this second one was on the ball and in ten minutes after he came up we were on the barge. I got on just as he pulled away, bashed a shin or two getting on but I couldn’t feel it then. I was so numb that I felt like I was getting warm again. I had a terrible time keeping my eyes open. Five hours we were out there and just as we left, the boat swamped completely and was all the way under. They took us on board the Columbia and gave us hot coffee and blankets and gave us sacks after cutting our life jackets off and helping us get undressed. We get over here to the Denver this afternoon. Several of the boys are in the sick bay of the Colombia suffering from exposure. So, I’m okay now, a wee bit stiff and with a slight cold. For a long time I felt like I was rocking back and forth, I couldn’t even walk straight, but after three hours sleep afternoon I got rid of most of it. It looks like the good lord looks after anybody if you ask him and believe he’ll help. There are also no atheists in swamped boats!

You people should have seen me, salt caked all over my face, my hat was stuck on, I was really a sight to behold. I’m really “salty” now!

Newport is really some place. It’s about 10,000 in population, probably an over estimate. It’s very quaint with nothing but narrow cobblestone streets mostly and Dutch and English style homes.

It’s very hilly and the people are almost 75% Italian, I think. All the girls are real dark-haired with dark eyes but they’re pekid as the dickens. The population seems to never get any sun.

Fritz and I had a good time. There’s a swell Army Navy Y.M.C.A. and U.S.O. which we make our head quarters. We got a steak dinner first and then shot pool at the U.S.O. Then we walked all over the place and got something else to eat. Then we went to the Opera Haus to see Cornel Wilde and Anita Louise in “The Bandit of Sherwood Forest”. It was about Robin Hood’s son and was pretty good.

Then we went and got another steak dinner. There were a lot of signs, welcoming a basketball team from Philadelphia, in all the store windows so we asked one of the cops we saw how to get to the game. It was a double header, pretty good and we had a lot of fun. Then we bought a lot of food to take back to the ship. Lord only knows where that bag full is now.

Our trip up from Norfolk was nice. None of us got sick although it was kind of rough. We had some funny practices and also we catapulted a plane- I got a picture of it. That roll is being developed at the U.S.O. If it’s good I’ll send it to you, the whole roll.

Well, I’m dead tired; I’m going to hit the sack. Write and give me the local news. Good night.

Love to all,

Bro