This Battle Flag was mounted in passageway outside Wardroom on the 590
SAGA OF A SCULPIN SURVIVOR
This is the saga of George Rocek, MoMMic,
USN,
one of the survivors of the sinking of the
USS SCULPIN (SS-191).
Published in POLARIS December 1979
On the night of 18 November 1943, SCULPIN made a radar
contact on a fast convoy and made an 'end around' at full
power. Submerging on the enemy track for a dawn attack,
SCULPIN began what promised to be a successful approach.
However, she was detected in the attack phase and the convoy
zigged toward, forcing her deep. There was no depth charge
attack at this time. About an hour later, the submarine
surfaced to begin another end around, but immediately dove
again, having surfaced 6,000 yards from a destroyer, which was
lagging the convoy. Depth charging started as soon as SCULPIN
dove again.
The Japanese destroyer, YOKOHAMA, dropped eighteen
600-pound charges on her first run directly over SULPIN.
Initial damage included a crack in one of the after-engine
room's exhaust valves, damage to the shallow and deep depth
gauges and pressure gauges around the diving station, broken
lights and valves backed off their seats although they had
been set with wrenches. Rocek recalls water gushing in on the
forward starboard side at the engine coolers. He pulled
himself up to that point and saw the seawater spraying out
between the pipe flanges from hull to coolers.
"It jarred holy hell out of us!"
The second string of explosives knocked the lighting system
out and worsened existing leaks; oxygen was in short supply,
the temperatures inside the submarine rose catastrophically.
"All this time the air is getting worse, the heat is terrific
and still he doesn't let up on us. Once we could hear his
screws going right over us.
It was like a message from heaven when 'sound' reported a
rainsquall off to starboard. SCULPIN headed for the protection
provided by the high noise level of the rainstorm. After
running in the squall for about 25 minutes, it appeared as if
SCULPIN had shaken the destroyer.
At this time the captain decided to risk noise by pumping
water from the after engine room to the forward torpedo room,
in order to give the boat a better trim and to reduce the
speed required to maintain depth. This would help conserve the
batteries. However, neither the drain nor the trim pump would
take suction. Captain Connaway then relieved Lieutenant Brown,
the Engineering Officer, from the diving station, so that he
could report the damage throughout the boat.
"Upon inspection," Brown reported, "I found the after
engine room had flooded to such an extent I believed it unwise
to attempt to place a bubble in No. 4 Main Ballast Tank, which
would have aided the trim considerably. The flow of water
forward might short the main motor leads. We decided to bail
the water forward to another compartment until we could trim
the ship without endangering the main motors."
"While a bucket brigade was being run by exhausted men in
temperatures well over q hundred degrees, the temporary diving
officer broached the ship. However, no one could be blamed for
this as the depth gauge was stuck at 170 feet and the pressure
gauges around the diving station were all flooded out."
"When SCULPIN stuck her nose up, the destroyer saw it and
came over again, dropping another string of depth charges
which tore the radio transmitter from the bulkhead and smashed
the receiver, popped light bulbs and severely damaged outboard
vents in both torpedo rooms." SCULPIN momentarily lost depth
control and was down over 500 feet before regaining control.
The steering mechanism had been damaged to such an extent that
it was next to impossible for exhausted, heat-stricken men to
operate the wheel by hand.
"At this time our evasion tactics were about at a
standstill. The heat was terrific. However, in spite of the
seriousness of the situation, it was decided to hold out for
at least one more string which was received at about 12:30
p.m. At this time the forward and aft torpedo rooms reported
cracks around the torpedo tubes. The sound heads were driven
up into the boat, shearing the holding down clamps. Thus we
were now without 'ears'. It required about 170 turns to
maintain depth. The battery was about exhausted and it was six
hours until sundown, so Captain Connaway decided to surface
and fight it out with the destroyer." "Connaway had been so
calm, resourceful persevering during these five hours of
severe depth charges that it was hard for the crew to realize
that the situation was as serious as it was. Connaway
explained to Captain J. Cromwell (Wolfpack Commander, who was
on board SCULPIN) that he did not think SULPIN could take
another string of depth charges and he owed his crew the
chance to fight it out on the surface. If all, finally, was
lost, they could abandon ship with an even chance of
survival."
"Make sure SCULPIN is scuttled in case we lose this
one-sided engagement." Connaway calmly instructed Brown, as he
started up the conning tower.
"The next thing we know," recalled Baker, the fireman, "the
word is passed through the intercom phones," Standby to Battle
Surface!" Up to the surface we go, the hatch is open and we
dash out on deck quickly to man the deck guns and have it out
with him once and for all."
"The day was a pretty one, with white caps coming over the
decks. At first when we went out on deck we couldn't see the
destroyer. Then one of the men spotted it on the starboard
side.. . right against the sun. He was about 3,000 yards off.
Immediately we went to our stations on the gun and began to
fire at him. We got off the first shot, which went over him.
The second fell short. In the meantime, he had begun to fire
at us with machine guns and his 5-inch-70. All we had was a
3-inch-50. One of his shots hit us in the main induction,
another went directly through the coming tower and came out
the portside, killing a number of men inside, and also some
men who were out on deck, hiding from the gunfire. Men were
being killed from the machine gun fire as they were coming out
of the - hatches. We had a fine crew . . . the guys really
showed the guts they had. A. B. Guillot, Fireman first class,
from Louisiana, was on the 50-caliber gun. The Japs made a
direct hit on his gun and wounded him severely. I still
remember how he looked with blood streaming from great rips in
his chest, passing ammunition to the 3-inch gun until he fell
over the side. J. Q. Harper, Torpedoman third class, stuck at
his 20mm gun until the very end."
The odds were uneven. SCULP!N lost her captain in the
surface battle. The Executive Officer, Lieutenant J. Nallen,
was killed at his station in the conning tower. Lieutenant Joe
Defress was killed commanding the fire of his 3-inch gun.
Brown, who had been at his station in the control room,
succeeded to command of the dying SCULPIN.
Though badly shaken by the continual bombardment, he
rallied to his new duties since it was apparent that the
destroyer now had their range. It was feared that a shell on
the next salvo might damage the hydraulic system, rendering it
impossible to operate the main vents, which Brown planned to
use in the scuttling operation. Thus he decided it was unwise
to postpone the scuttling of the SCULPIN.
With reluctance, Brown approached Cromwell, still a study
in poise, to advise him of his decision to scuttle.
"I informed Commodore Cromwell, who was in the control
room, of my intentions. He told me to go ahead and he said he
could not go with us because he was afraid that the
information he possessed might be injurious to his shipmates
at sea if the Japanese made him reveal it by torture. I then
rang up, 'Emergency speed" and passed the word, "Abandon
Ship", and sent Chief Hemphill forward and Chief Haverland aft
to pass the word in case the P. A. system was out. When they
returned to the control room we waited one minute by the
clock, then ordered the vents opened, knowing that it would
spell the doom of the submarine in minutes and thereby rob
the, Japanese of a valuable war trophy.
The wounded SCULPIN went down like a great boulder plunging
into the sea, "in a whirlpool of white foam," carrying with it
Captain Cromwell and others to the sands and coral of the
South Pacific.
Chief Machinist's Mate H. E. Hemphill later reported that
while he was forward passing the word to abandon ship, he
encountered Ensign Max Fielder in the wardroom playing cards
and talking with one of the crewmen, E. Apostol. "We do not
choose to go with you, Fielder replied to Hemphill's
entreaties that he hurry. 'We prefer death to capture by the
Japanese."
There was not time to argue with them. In spite of the
order to abandon ship, many others apparently could not
believe that the SCULPIN was lost; that she could not do other
than surface and return victoriously home. Instead, a number
of the faithful submariners, almost like automatons, were last
seen at their normal duty stations.
In nine hours of blasting by the YOKOHAMA, the SCULPIN had
been rocked by an estimated 52 heavy depth charge. But for the
survivors, their hell had just begun.
As Rocek reports, "On reaching topside, I saw one man
bloody and dead. I started running for the sail and looked to
see where the 'can' was, which was on my side. I started
through the 'doghouse' to the portside when a direct hit was
made. I was momentarily stunned and numb all over. After
seeing I was intact, I jumped over the side, Once in the
water, I watched SCULPIN submerge in a normal manner. Pete
Gabrunas was manning the hydraulic manifold and on scuttling
the boat, he and others were unable to escape due to the
wreckage in the conn. I could feel explosions, apparently from
the batteries."
The wet, oil-begrimed survivors were hauled aboard the
YOKOHAMA. One was tossed back into the sea after his captors
decided he was too badly wounded to live. Another, bleeding,
fought free from similar attempts.
Rocek noticed he had numerous amounts of watch-spring
shaped metal imbedded in his skin and minor shrapnel wounds in
both legs, apparently from the direct hit in the conn.
"That night," reported Baker, as the destroyer carried the
three surviving officers and 38 men of the SCULPIN toward the
island of Truk, we were all left on deck. Our hands and feet
tied, with only a piece of tarpaulin stretched over all 41 of
us for protection in a hard rainstorm, against a raging sea
many of the men were in terrible agony, because of their
wounds and were losing blood."
They had their hands tied and were blindfolded when they
were taken off the ship onto Truk and "this is where some of
us received our first slugging because we were curious and
tried to see from beneath our blindfolds." The 41 survivors
were placed in three eight by seven-foot cells, which included
a small outhouse in one corner. They were kept there for 12
days - "a living hell for everyone concerned . . . at first
they wouldn't feed us or give us any water to drink we were
questioned about our sub and other military information. Many
of us took some hard beatings."
H. J. Thomas, a Torpedoman First Class, resorted to the
ruses of warding off beatings by giving the Japanese erroneous
information. He said, for example that American submarines
were refueling at a secret island between the Gilberts and
Truk. Their inquisitors produced charts, some of them dating
back to the last century, but could find no such island, His
buddies solemnly repeated the fable.
"The men," said Thomas, "were subjected to constant
questioning, during which they were stimulated by frequent
beating with clubs and fists. It appeared that the officers
received the worse treatment, with the radar men being next in
line."
Now we continue with Rocek's story.
TRUK
We arrived in Truk and were taken to their outdoor
prisoner's compound, an area of about thirty square feet with
3 cells on one side. Each cell had a hole in the floor for a
toilet.
Our food rations consisted of one rice ball a day and a few
ounces of water. Water was a scarcity on Truk they relied on
rainwater for their supply. We had three wounded men in our
cell, so we all took turns standing to allow more room for
them. Lieutenant George E. Brown, Jr., tried repeatedly to get
medical attention for the wounded men, to no avail, After the
fifth or sixth day, their wounds were beginning to smell and
finally they were taken to the hospital.
We were let out of our cells twice a day for about 10
minutes, an event to which we gratefully looked forward to.
Repeatedly we were taken out of the compound for questioning
always blindfolded. If you hesitated in answering a question,
you received a whack across the rear with a piece of wood
larger than a bat. I learned to bide for time by saying I
didn't understand the question. The Japs had their own
interpreter and he couldn't speak English too well so I was
able to get away with it sometimes.
About the tenth day, they shaved all our hair off and
issued us Japanese Navy undress blues to wear and a square,
flat, wooden block with Japanese writing on it to wear around
our necks. Then the three wounded men returned from the
hospital. One man had his hand amputated and the other, his
arm. They told us the amputations were done without any
anesthetic and they were questioned at the same time.
We were then taken to the shoreline in trucks, blindfolded.
Here we were divided into two groups, there were 21 prisoners
in my group and 20 in the other, and put aboard two Japanese
aircraft carriers. Our group went aboard the CHUYO, where we
were taken below decks to a small, locked compartment. This
group of prisoners included the wounded men.
DEATH OF A CARRIER
On board the carrier, CHUYO conditions were bad. Food was
available, but very little water, we only received a few
ounces a day, per man. The compartment was crowded and the
ventilation was practically non-existent.
But this torture was to end in the death of the Jap
carrier.
At midnight on 31 December 1943, the ship was rocked with a
terrific explosion as it was hit with a torpedo from the USS
SAILFISH (formerly the SQUALUS), whose crew had no way of
divining that their own countrymen were on board. Submariners
themselves, the prisoners cheered the blast even though they
knew if the carrier went down they would probably never
survive.
A few of us were sitting on deck, and when the torpedo hit,
we flew straight up about 2 or 3 feet in the air. We could
sense she lost power and smoke filtered into our compartment.
We heard various alarms sound off and damage control men
running and yelling.
On deck below we could hear the frantic Jap crew attempting
to shore up the bulkheads with timber, but a heavy sea was
running and nullifying the efforts of the damage control
party. Soon we heard the bulkhead collapse and water pouring
into the compartment below us.
As the water rose to our compartment, we yelled and pounded
on the locked hatch. We undogged the hatch but it was locked
on the outside and we couldn't break it open. We then removed
the metal pump handle from the head (about 3 feet long) and
used it as a pry bar, then we all pushed and pulled and on the
second try, the hatch broke open. I don't think you could do
this on an American ship.
We held hands and let one man try to find the way to
topside. It was dark and the air was full of smoke. Through
smoking compartments we tried to reach the main deck. Frenzied
Jap damage control men ignored us and we finally reached
topside, which by now was covered with smoke. A small
compartment yielded life jackets, which were quickly donned.
Further along we found the galley, which was hastily looted of
food and particularly bottled soft drinks. This is where we
finally filled up on liquids to quench our parched throats.
Beyond the galley we found a ladder leading to the flight
deck and here, frantic Japs were passing timber for life rafts
by means of a human chain. On the flight deck they were
lashing the poles together to make rafts. I saw only one
12-foot boat in the water with three high ranking officers in
it. A Jap officer pulled us out of the line and escorted us to
the flight deck where we were stripped of our life jackets and
they started to tie us. In the confusion, however, only eight
men were tied and the others quickly freed them. There were
many life jackets in the compartment below, why they didn't
use them, I'll never know. Only about a third of the Japs had
life jackets on.
An internal explosion rocked the ship and the Japs began
passing out stores of beer, candy, canned goods and rice with
even the prisoners coming in for a share.
Despite the explosions, the carrier remained afloat. But
high winds, mist and huge swells made good submarine weather
and the prisoners waited for the submarine to close in for the
kill. SAILFISH made its second strike despite the protective
Jap destroyer. A violent explosion shattered the carrier, a
column of smoke billowed up on the port side and within
minutes the ship started down with a heavy port list.
Japanese crewmen and American prisoners together crowded to
the starboard side, including Jap officers with their long
swords stuck between their life jackets and overcoats. In the
melee, the prisoners were separated.
Dinty Moore, (Chief Signalman) and myself were holding on
to a collapsible searchlight on the flight deck, about thirty
feet off the starboard side. As the carrier was going down,
about a hundred feet from the water, I yelled to Dinty, "Let's
go' "and I slide down the flight deck into the sea. The
suction was so great that I could not break surface after
going under. I then believe an air pocket pushed me closer to
the surface, for I could see light and I made one more attempt
and broke surface near a raft. I swam over to it and hung on
for dear life. I never did see Dinty Moore again. Already on
the raft were an officer and a messboy from the SCULPIN,
Fearful of stopping because of the lurking submarine, the
Japanese destroyer circled the rafts for about five hours
before they finally made a run to pick up the survivors. She
came by with one Jacob's ladder and a number of lines trailing
over the side.
When you grabbed the lines and the ship rolled, you slid
right back into the sea. Your best chance was one Jacob's
ladder, One time, I grabbed the ladder while the other two men
grabbed the lines. A Jap officer stepped and crawled over me,
forcing me under. I was very weak by now, but luckily a huge
swell pushed me onto the Jacob's ladder again. I threw my arm
through the ladder and latched onto my wrist with the other
hand. They pulled the ladder and me both topside. The other
SCULPIN men were not able to pull themselves up and the Japs
jabbed at them with poles trying to knock them off the lines.
That was the last time I ever saw any of my shipmates from
the carrier, CHUVO.
ABOARD THE JAP DESTROYER
Apparently, being dressed in their undress blues, the Japs
must have thought at first, I was one of their sailors. They
hauled me and the ladder up and left me lying on deck. I was
just too weak to move. Then four sailors picked me up and
carried me to the fantail. I was sure they were going to throw
me overboard, but then they must have been ordered to return
me amidships, and I was put in their laundry compartment. They
did not tie me up or even close the hatch. Later that
afternoon, I felt the turbines wind up and the ship picked up
speed.
I was left alone in the compartment and as night came on, I
began to get very cold and started shaking badly. There was a
metal tub or tank that was filled with water in the
compartment, the water felt warm, so I climbed in the tub and
sat down, with only my head above water. I stayed there for
the rest of the night.
The next day I received numerous visits by a Jap chief who
did a lot of talking and then slugged the hell out of me and
then left. Every hour or two later he would return and do the
same thing over again. He also mentioned Tokyo, Doolittle, and
gave me the cutthroat sign.
One young Japanese sailor came and he managed to motion
that he worked in the engine room, I managed to convey to him
that I did the same kind of work. About a half an hour later
he came back and gave me a hard cracker and motioned me not to
say anything. It took me a long time to eat the cracker
because I couldn't work up any saliva.
The next morning we arrived in Yokohama. I was never given
any food or water on that ship except the one cracker.
As we entered the port, I saw many of their merchant and
naval ships that were heavily damaged. After tying up, along
comes that same chief again with three men and about 50 feet
of rope. They tied and blindfolded me so I couldn't even more.
A few hours later another chief, larger than the average Jap,
came in and untied me and loosened my blindfold so I could see
downward. He then tied my wrists together and led me with the
loose end to the gangway where I had to put on a pair of
'go-aheads.' I was put in a small craft and rode for about 15
minutes. I now began to realize I was the only SCULPIN
crewmember from the carrier, CHUYO, to survive.
After reaching shore, I was led through a part of the city,
I could see the women's shoes and bottoms of their kimonos. I
felt a little funny at first, because the seat of my uniform
was torn out from sliding down the carrier flight deck. We
arrived at a railroad station and sat down on a bench. I heard
the chief talking to a woman and after a few moments, he
removed my blindfold - apparently she wanted to see my face.
She was a doll and dressed stateside with a short skirt and
high heel shoes. He replaced my blindfold and a short time
later we boarded a train. The train was very crowded so we had
to stand for about an hour or two. After getting off the
train, he insisted I run. I could see the road, which was
narrow and stony. I pointed to his shoes, the rocks and my
'go-aheads', which kept falling off. He understood, but then
motioned he wanted to get me there (Camp Ofuna) in time for
eating, which we did.
On arriving at Ofuna, I was turned over to a
stateside-dressed Jap, who spoke perfect English. Most of
their Jap intelligence interrogators spoke good English and
were educated in the States. He asked where the rest of the
men were and when I told him about the carrier being sunk he
became very irritated."
They had moved most of the GRENADIER crew out to make room
for us. The Jap Commander of Ofuna could not speak English and
refused to believe a Jap carrier got sunk, but could never
understand what happened to the other men.
It was at this camp that I was reunited with the remainder
of the SCULPIN crew, who had sailed on the other carrier. We
believed we would become registered prisoners of war, but were
sadly mistaken . . . it was a secret questioning and
intimidation camp run by the Japanese Navy for nothing else
but to pump or beat military information out of the prisoners.
It was mainly comprised of aviation and submarine POW's only,
except for a few civilians.
One man was designated to a cell and no talking allowed.
Every week or two, you were questioned by a different
interrogator. They then would compare notes to see if you lied
on certain questions. We all had made up fake stories on Truk
and memorized them. I believe most of us said it was our first
patrol. My story was that I spent a year each at New London,
San Diego and Pearl, and the sinking was my first patrol.
If you were sitting outside on the bench and had your eyes
closed, periodically the guard would silently stand in front
of you and put his bayonet close to your eyes. Since no
talking was allowed, we had leg pressure warnings, to let you
be aware of the s.o.b. This was not a work camp. Every
Saturday was bath day and shave. We were shaved by their
barber, or butcher.
Most of the wounds I received in my lower legs were not
healing. The Japs had no medication to speak of, you had to
wash your own bandages. The medication I received looked and
smelled like fish oil. I remembered my father's advice - to
urinate on wounds. So I had Ricketts, MM1c, urinate on my
legs. After a period of time, all wounds healed except one,
which was near my left leg shinbone.
The SCULPIN's only surviving officer, Brown, was kept in
solitary confinement when not being interrogated, put on
reduced rations, given frequent beatings, and threatened with
death if he refused to answer questions. He divulged only
information, which was contained in "Jane's Fighting Ships",
to which he was allowed free access. He was able to convince
his tormentors that, being the engineering officer, he knew
nothing concerning matters of policy, fleet organization,
plans or logistics.
THE COPPER MINES OF ASHlO
In January 1944, a small group of about twenty men from
the SCULPIN, GRENADIER and S-44 were transferred to Oman. it
was the Japanese Army POW Headquarters in Tokyo. We spent a
few days there and then transferred to Ashio, a copper mining
camp, north of Tokyo. In the copper mines, with the
back-breaking hours and noxious sulfur fumes, the Americans
nonetheless bore up better than the other prisoners who were
constantly collapsing. The death rate among the latter was
appalling. The Navy men resorted to every ruse in the book,
and invented a few besides. They hid out behind the steam
boilers and took full advantage of air raid alarms to dive
into storehouses, out of which they would steal all sorts of
plunder, from rice to clothing.
The mine was located in a huge mountain, the POW camp on a
smaller mountain, separated by a stream. A bridge about five
feet wide connected both sides and the only means of bringing
in supplies was on a two-wheeled cart.
The camp comprised of two oblong barracks, two tiers on
each side with lice infested straw for bedding. At the rear
end of the barracks was the head, outdoors type. During the
winter months, the fresh water lines would freeze up,
therefore, no baths for months.
The majority of the prisoners (about 125) in Ashio, were
Dutch and Javanese, captured in Java. There was a Dutch
doctor, a British Army corpsman and a U. S. Army medic. Due to
the extreme cold, many of the Javanese died. They were taken
into town for cremation. I recall crewmembers of TANG,
GRENADIER, S-44 and PERCH being at Ashio. One of our camp
cooks was Tony Duva from the S-44. Medical aid was no better
in Ashio than Ofuna. My wound in the left shinbone area began
to get worse and smell. The Army medic (captured in the
Philippines) had secreted a few sulfa tablets and used them
only in emergencies. He ground one up and sprinkled it on my
wound every day, and eventually it healed. A year later I had
a small piece of metal work out of my left knee.
All enlisted men had to work unless you were ill or on
light duty. Those that were not working received only two
meals a day, except hospital patients.
The food was the same every day, which was a mixture of 40%
each of barley and maize or Indian corn and 20% rice. No salt,
sugar, vegetables, oil or meat. Once a month they would
butcher old horses for the civilians' meat supply and some of
the bones were given to us. These were boiled for a week to
make them soft and then rationed out to the men.
We broke them up and ate what we could. One man had a large
piece stuck in his rectum and the corpsman had to use a fork
to dislodge it. Most of us had a difficult time in adjusting
to the food, having the runs quite often.
The last winter in Ashio, most of the camp was unable to
work due to beri beri. The Japanese doctor in charge of all
POW camps came to Ashio to examine us. The examination took
place outside the barracks in January. About twelve men at a
time had to line up before him. We were naked and told to do
six knee bends. From this he designated about 30 men that were
to work. The rest were put on light duty. A few weeks later we
received some Chinese cabbage, oranges and boxes of baby
sharks that were so strong with ammonia odor, you held your
nose to be able to eat the soup.
The Japs had their own medic and he designated if you were
well enough to work or not. They had a punk-like fuzz which
they rolled into a ball about a quarter of an inch in diameter
and put this on you're skin and lighted it. When it burned
into the skin it hurt more and did more harm because of
infection. I believe this was their form of acupuncture.
Regardless of what you complained of, it seemed these punk
balls were placed the farthest from your ailment. For diarrhea
we were given charcoal to eat.
We understood the mine was worked out and closed before the
war, but reopened due to a copper shortage. The work was hard,
dirty, and dangerous. Inside the entrance of the mine, there
was a shrine, which we had to bow to on entering and leaving
the mine. Considering the earthquake tremors you felt on the
inside, we said our own prayers.
You were issued a small hand hoe, scoop and a large
sledgehammer. You had to break up the large rocks small enough
to lift. You were always leery of the overhead, which
occasionally would shed rocks,
One day, about five of us were sitting down taking a break
and felt sand drifting down from about. We scattered quickly,
but one man had his leg broken by a huge rock that fell from
the overhead,
We had carbide lamps for light, which we were permitted to
take back to camp. On occasion, we were in a position to steal
a little grain and used these lamps to cook it.
We learned to be able sometimes to arrange some flat rocks
in the copper cars to make it appear full. After months of
getting away with this, they caught on, and they would tap the
side of the car, if it sounded hollow, they dumped the car
over and made us refill it.
After a year of filling cars, some of us were 'drillers.'
We used an air drill with drill bits of various lengths, about
3 to 5 feet long. After drilling the holes, packed them with
dynamite sticks, but we were never allowed to ignite them,
Occasionally when we spotted an air drill used by the Japs,
and no one was in sight, we would pour the carbide dust into
the air supply. The drill would work for a short time and then
was put out of commission.
Some of the Koreans who worked in the mine treated us well,
sometimes giving us part of their food.
Occasionally a newspaper would be stolen by the prisoners
working the night shift. We had an Australian in camp that
could read and speak Japanese, and he would write down the
condensed war information, which was passed throughout the
camp.
Two of us had the personal satisfaction of ripping off a
Red Cross food package from the Jap C.O.'s room. Being on
light duty for a few days, I noticed the package while washing
windows in the Jap headquarters. On returning back to work in
the mine, I acquired twine and a spike. In one of our outhouse
stalls, I drove the spike under the deck opening to one side.
We took the package late one night, ate our fill, wrapped same
with twine and hung it on the spike. Every night we ate our
fill. About four days later, all barracks had to be vacated
and the guards ransacked the whole camp. If any submarine
POW's remember that day, it was the package they were
searching for.
I learned later, the theft was blamed on a group of young
secret police trainees that were in camp for a few weeks and
left prior to the discovery of the missing package.
Our first indication of the war ending was observed when
the day shift was brought back to camp and no one left camp
thereafter. A few days later, we fell in for quarters and the
Japs began to abide by the Geneva Convention rules concerning
POW's, They painted the rooftops with large POW letters and
doled out their supplies of clothing, shoes, etc. that we so
desperately wanted and needed. The supplies and some food
packages were donated by the Canadian Red Cross.
About a week later, some of our carrier planes buzzed the
camp in the process of locating all POW camps, as we learned
later. A few days after that, one of our four-engine bombers
made a food parachute drop about one hundred yards in front of
the camp. We really feasted then - day and night.
We then made up a list of the Korean and Japanese
mineworkers who had treated us decently. They were brought to
camp and we gave them all the supplies of - clothing, food,
etc. that would be left behind. They all left with tears in
their eyes.
A week later, we were escorted to town and boarded a train
for Tokyo. The secret police. or Kampia, were posted
throughout the town and we saw no civilians outside. On
arriving at the station, the first person to greet us was a U.
S. Army Nurse with cigarettes and candy bars. What a beautiful
sight! We were put in a large waiting room and waited for
trucks and busses to take us to the wharf where they had a
decontamination station set up and hospital ships alongside.
We were told if we ate too much we could get ill, but I can't
recall anyone doing so.
Some POW's were flown back to the States. I was sent to the
USS OZARK. They had more than enough volunteers for messcooks.
You could go through the mess line as often as you wanted
until the food ran out. I went through three times, but I know
some men went through 5 or 6 times. It was like puffing food
in an acid vat. We were still hungry during the night and the
commanding officer gave orders to break out the C-rations.
We stopped in Guam for a few weeks for thorough physicals
before heading for the states. Enroute to the states, a few
men would lose their senses and had to be taken to sick bay.
During the first year, I believe we all had to fight down the
sensation of going over the deep end.
We arrived in Frisco and all submarine men were the first
to depart. The Submarine Force had individual cars, with an
officer assigned, for each man, and they took us to a hotel
for a large welcome dinner. We were all impressed and proud to
be submariners, and knew that we were not forgotten.
We were then supposed to proceed to the Oakland Naval
Hospital, however, that took quite a while, as many
unscheduled stops were made along the way.
A month later, some of us were transferred to the Great
Lakes Naval Hospital, to be nearer home. Eventually, I was
sent back to duty.
Burned, beaten, starved, brutally overworked, forced to
exist with vermin as bed fellows, humiliation their unfailing
daily fare, the survivors of the SCULPIN proved to be tough
and ready. Twenty-one had entered the prisoner-of- war camps.
Twenty-one started home after VJ Day.
LAST MINUTE RECALLS
One feeling I experienced when the Jap Carrier sunk was one
I'll never forget.
When I was underwater trying to break the suction and reach
surface, I could no longer hold my breath and began taking in
water. At this point, my whole life flashed before me, even
the details that I normally never recalled before. It was an
eerie and serene sensation.
I looked upward, saw light and no suction. I believe an air
pocket must have pushed me closer to the surface. I made one
last effort and broke surface, saw the raft about 20 feet away
and made it. The carrier was completely out of sight.
Also, before and during the war, some of us spent a lot of
time in the pool at Pearl playing water polo, so were in good
physical condition.
In Manila we used to spend our 48 or 72's at a Villa north
of town which had 3 sulfur waterpools. It was a Spanish type
hacienda in the mountain area. It was owned by a
German who was married to a Filipino girl and had several
children who helped run the place. It was super. On arrival
you put your money and valuables in a huge walk in safe behind
the bar. From that point on you signed slips for food and
drink. When down to your last 2 pesos, you were notified,
which was cab fare back to Manila. I'm sure many sub sailors
remember this place. The name Casa Del Rio, or similar, comes
to mind.
At Ashio there was an American Army man, Jackolone, from
St. Louis, and he told me about a beer there called
Griesedieck - which I did not believe.
While waiting to enter the Decontamination station, a U. S.
sailor asked me if I cared for a beer. I replied that I swore
off of booze, but anything stateside was O.K. now. He brought
me 3 bottles of that Griesedieck. I removed one label and on
locating Jackolone showed him the same. His reply was, "See, I
told you so.
During the entire capture period the primary thought was
only of food. I used to write down some of the weirdest
recipes, sounded good then, such as a Milky Way Pie, Hershey
Bar Sweet Potatoes, etc.