 
# 28 Months of

# Heaven and Hell

## J.D. Karns

## Janet Beasley

## Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Copyright © 2014 by J.D. Karns Janet Beasley

All rights reserved. Photo of _USS Melvin R. Nawman_ DE-416 courtesy of the U.S. Navy: www.navsource.org

ISBN: 978-1-63324-033-9

10: 1633240339

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

The views and opinions expressed in this book may not be those of the publisher.

To find out more about this book or the author, visit: www.authorjanetbeasley.com

## Dedication

I dedicate this book to my "Big Brother" Carl Lee Young, Jr. and to each and every service man and woman who gave their all in that war that I might continue to have the freedom I have always known.

-Charles L. Young

## Acknowledgments

To J.D. Karns, author: thank you for this creative endeavor. Not only did you expertly use Carl's journal entries to relate the historical facts, but also you put your imagination to work and portrayed a warm, family-oriented story that captures the true feeling of the WWII era in the Midwestern United States.

To my brother Carl: thank you for providing your journal so that the life of a sailor aboard a destroyer escort in the WWII Pacific arena could be shared with everyone. It gives readers a chance to see the life of a sailor from that sailor's point of view. I also thank you for keeping your promise and telling me about it; "someday" finally arrived.

To my family: thanks to all of you for the motivation to keep those memorable years alive.

Chapter 1

BIG DECISION

I was playing with my Lincoln Logs, minding my own business. At age 11 it was tough being the youngest of three boys, though it had its advantages at times. I was taking such pride in steadying the last miniature log on my incredible fort, without any help from either of my siblings, when I was rudely interrupted. I heard what seemed to be a laughing ruckus coming from everyone downstairs (all but Dad of course).

Having been born nearly deaf in my right ear, I rarely could hear the family through the heat vent in the floor, let alone hear them above the World War II news that blared over the radio in the front room every evening after supper. But this particular evening was different. I raced to the banister, slid down, then ran into the kitchen. I wanted in on the fun, too, but it had gone silent for the moment. Everyone was still sitting around the table, picking at what crumbs were left from my oldest brother Chester's birthday cake, which we had devoured earlier that evening to cap off the celebration. I took my seat between Chester and Mom.

Chester rapped me on the head and said, "Hey, Bean Belly."

I enthusiastically replied, "Hey, Big Brother." Truth be known, "Bean Belly" wasn't cutting it for me anymore. I was 11-going-on-12, for crying out loud. I wanted him and Mike, the middle brother, to start calling me by my real name, Jeb. But somehow I knew better than to bring that up right then.

Chester looked at all of us as he continued smiling and spoke, "Since everyone's in such a good mood..." A huff came from Dad, but Chester ignored it. "...I've got something really exciting to say." He paused a bit too long.

"Well say it, boy," Dad grunted without looking up from his newspaper.

Chester wasted no time after Dad's request. "Now that I'm 18, and the United States has been involved with World War II since December 7, 1941, I've given it a lot of thought, and I want to serve my country."

I saw Mom beam with pride and fear all in the same fraction of a second. She said, "Well that's nice dear. We've raised you to be a proud American, and as well you should be. This is a great country." I saw her look around at some of the things we had, then at each one of us. "I think wanting to protect our freedom is a very noble thing for any young man to want to do." Her voice trembled with her next words. "So we'll just wait and see if the draft cards fall in your favor." She patted Chester's forearm with one hand and ran her other hand over her new hairdo. "Until then we can all rest easy and enjoy our time together." She smiled right at Chester. "I know, with you being 18 now, you're going to want to get out on your own soon, and I want to make certain you're absolutely ready for that. I want to be sure you have all that you need. You'll need a job, for one thing." She chuckled. I saw Dad nod, and the smoke from his pipe whirled from the motion.

I looked back at Chester and saw his eyes widen a bit before he said, "And you see, that's just it." It appeared as though he was thinking about how to say his next words. "You're right Mom. I do want to get out on my own, and I definitely need a job to do that." He took her hand in his, though she did not look at him. She mashed a few more cake crumbs on her fork and brought them to her mouth as he said, "But here's the thing. I don't want to wait and take a chance on the draft." He hesitated for only a second. "I'd like to enlist."

I remember the sound of Mom's fork hitting the floor and the sight of her mouth dropping open. I also remember Mike and me cheering at the tops of our lungs! Heck, more exciting than the news of our big brother enlisting was the fact that we both knew if he left, we'd each have our own room.

"I think you should join the Navy!" I blurted.

"Me too!" Mike shouted.

We had played countless hours together planning and strategizing as though we were captains on the mighty battleships. And now our big brother wanted to be one of those captains for real. How exciting! Plus, Mike and I had only heard on the radio about the great pilots, soldiers, and sailors. We'd never met one, let alone think about having one in our family.

"Now just a minute." Chester smiled and continued. "Did you guys ever stop to think _I'd_ like to have a say in the matter?"

"As would I!" Mom's tone was harsh. We all backed down. "I don't think you should go at all. And to tell you the truth, I've been fearing that the war would still be going on when you turned 18 and that the draft would take you away, possibly never to be seen again." I saw her wipe a tear with her stubby little finger. "What do you say, Dad?"

Dad barely lowered the newspaper and looked over his eyeglasses. "Don't care what he does, Mom. He's a big boy now. In fact, he's a man. He's 18. He's plenty capable of making his own decisions. But if you want my two cents worth, I'd have to say it's a damned good idea." Dad snapped the newspaper back into reading position. Mom glared at him.

I couldn't help that my excitement for boats and the water spilled into my next words. "I think the Navy'd be great!" I saw Mom sit even straighter, and I tried to cover my enthusiasm with a quick, comforting addition, "Because it'd be the safest for sure."

"Yeah, the safest for sure!" echoed Mike, in what I assumed was a rare attempt to actually help me and my cause. But then I remembered there was a bedroom at stake.

I took it down another notch. "And besides, Chester would make a really great sailor captain. Probably the best the Navy's ever seen." Mom's expression never changed. I looked at Chester and said, "Imagine sailing a big ship out on the ocean. You'd get to see sharks, and eels, and maybe even a mermaid! You'd get to see the world."

"Bean Belly, slow down. I've heard of putting the cart before the horse, but I've never witnessed putting the mermaid before the naval ship." Dad got a kick out of that one.

Mom's voice was sternly directed at me, as was her pointing finger. "He's not going on a vacation. And the Navy doesn't have luxury cruise ships. Have you forgotten we are at war? Putting your brother on a ship—or on the ground or up in the sky flying in one of those fancy airplanes—makes him nothing more than a target for those lousy Japs and Nazis."

Dad chimed in, "Mom, you might want to watch your mouth." I chuckled, but that only resulted in the stink-eye from Dad, so I shut up.

The next hour or so the conversation remained heated, but in the end Mom granted Chester's wish, with no help from Dad. I leaped from my chair when Big Brother chose the Navy.

Chapter 2

HOPE I MAKE IT

November 19, 1943

The day had come. I'd always been forbidden to use Chester's pomade, but I figured, since he'd left it on the dresser, it was fair game today; I wanted to look my best. Mike and I didn't have suits and ties, but we each had a pair of dress pants and one nice button-down shirt. As I was slicking my hair back with the greasy goop, I could hear Mom drilling Chester as if he were already at boot camp. "Do you have your socks? Clean underwear? Your toothbrush?"

"Mom. I've got all I need. You've done a swell job."

"But what if..."

"'But what if' nothing. I'm sure they'll provide me everything I need to get by. Remember, this is the Navy, not a luxury cruise ship."

I stepped to Chester's bedroom door in time to see Mom blush. She hung her head, and Chester kissed her cheek. She looked him in the eye and said, "Then come on. Let's get downstairs." I watched her straighten Chester's collar, then I took off running before either of them could see me. I joined the others at the bottom of the stairs. We all stood at attention as Mom and Chester came down arm in arm.

"What's this? A bon voyage party?" Chester laughed, as did we. He looked straight at me and said, "You look as dapper as anyone. Especially your hair." I couldn't tell if he noticed the pomade or not, but I really didn't care. And that compliment stuck with me for a long time.

Chester's red-headed beauty's sweet voice melted any boy's or man's heart. "A bon voyage party? You might say that, sailor."

"Sailor? But I don't even have my uniform yet. How can you be sure I'll be a sailor?"

"Who said anything about a uniform? I just called you sailor out of respect, though come to think of it, I should've called you captain." Sue took a few sultry steps forward and planted one on his cheek. "You look mighty handsome, Navy man." She stood on her tip toes, and her lips met his ear. Softer, in a sexier tone, she said, "You'd better be looking that handsome when you return home, because I'll be here waiting for you." Sue strutted back into our line. Even I could hear Chester's heart beating faster.

Chester's voice squeaked, "Well, I'll certainly do my best." He winked at her. He cleared his throat, turned and looked in the big mirror that hung in the tiny foyer, and wiped the ruby red lipstick from his cheek.

I saluted him. He returned a salute so sharp he looked like admiral material to me, uniform or not. I just knew he was going to be someone important.

Dad, Mom, Mike, Sue, me, and one of Big Brother's school chums all took Chester to the bus station in Xenia, Ohio, not too long of a drive from our home in Osborn. Mom let him ride shotgun, and she sat in the middle. Because there were seven of us, and I was the littlest, Mom let me ride on Chester's lap. When we reached the bus station Dad parked the car, and we made our way into the terminal through the crowd. _So far so good,_ I thought. Chester still hadn't mentioned anything about the forbidden pomade.

Chester went to the window and presented his ticket and papers. I saw the lady behind the window smile. As best I could read her lips, she said, "I just love handsome sailors. I always hate to approve their tickets outta here." She handed him his boarding pass under the bars in the brass tray. He took it, and I saw him sigh. He turned and looked at all of us. It was the first time I had ever seen an expression like that on his face. It concerned me, but then he smiled right at me, and I knew everything was going to be okay.

"I guess this is it, huh?" Chester's voice sounded surer than ever.

"I guess it is," Mom said. I saw her swallow hard.

We went out to the lot where the bus was waiting. Plenty of hugs were going around, along with lots of tears being shed, though Chester and I were all smiles. Oddly, even Dad had tears in his eyes when he gave his oldest a firm handshake and wished him well.

Like Chester, I wasn't sad. Instead I was so excited I could've exploded. I was proud as a peacock watching Big Brother climb the couple of stairs onto the bus. I couldn't help but salute him again when he took his seat by the window right above us. Again, he saluted me back. I was doing fine, but then I saw a tear fall from his eye, and I lost it. I went to Mom, sobbing. I understood why he'd had that foreign expression earlier.

The bus engine revved, the door shut, and the wheels started turning. Mom let me run a ways down the street with a bunch of others chasing after the bus. The crowd came to a halt, and I broke through everyone to the front of the line. I waved until the bus crested the hill and turned the corner out of sight.

Not much was said as we returned to the car. We all held hands. I mostly remember the milling sounds of the dissipating crowd. I also heard quite a few sniffles from those passing by.

This time Mom rode shotgun, and I sat between her and Dad. Sue sat between the other boys in the back. It seemed like the ride was taking a lot longer to get home than it had to get there. To make it seem even longer, Dad stopped for gas at the corner filling station. But finally I saw our driveway.

Mom had rolled out noodles that morning, and they were still drying on the kitchen counter when we got home. She sliced them and put them to boiling. It didn't take her long to boil the chicken in another pot, pull it, and then add it to the noodles. I saw her throw a stick of butter on top of the chicken and noodles along with some salt and pepper and then cover the pot while she mashed the potatoes. It was Chester's favorite meal, as well as mine. I wanted to think she'd made it for me because she knew I'd need cheering up, but she'd probably made it in honor of Chester.

Mom had invited Sue and Big Brother's school chum to stay for food. We sat down at the table, and I felt funny with Chester's chair empty for the first time. I noticed Mom had set a place at Chester's chair, and that's when I realized the chicken and noodles were in honor of him.

Dad reached out, and we all joined hands. He bowed his head; we all followed suit. The prayer he prayed at that supper sounded like one from a man who'd followed God all of his life. It was the first time I'd ever heard Dad talk to God _that_ way.

There was no conversation, no "mmm's" when dessert was served. The occasional request for a dish to be passed echoed through the seemingly empty house. The only other sounds were of silverware clinking on the plates and ice cubes melting and sliding down the insides of the glasses.

When supper was over Dad turned on the radio. We all gathered around and listened to the turmoil that had happened in other parts of the world that day. Even though no one spoke, I was certain we were all thinking the same thing: _God, please watch over Chester._ I'd never heard the radio knob click so loud when Dad turned it off.

Sue and Chester's school chum let themselves out. Before they could get into the car, I ran to the door and out onto the sidewalk. I shouted, "Thanks for being there for Big Brother today. I know it meant a lot to him. But don't worry, he's tough! We'll hear from him soon, I just know it. All we have to do is wait." I remember seeing them smile through their tears and nod. They came back and hugged me and told me a couple of the funniest stories I'd ever heard about Chester. They managed to fill the pit in my stomach, for the moment, with joy.

I went back into the house and straight up to Mike's and my room. Mike was already sniffling under his covers. I said nothing to him; what could I say? I put my pajamas on and hopped under my covers. Unwanted tears drenched my pillow. When I reached my hand under my pillow I felt something crinkle. I pulled out a note, held it up to the window, and the moonlight shone just enough for me to see.

Dear Bean Belly, I have a picture of you and Mike tucked away in my billfold next to Mom and Dad's, along with one of Sue. I know I never said it, but I want you to know that I love you with all of my heart. Take care of Mike. I know he's hurting bad from "losing" me today. This now makes him the oldest, and I don't think he thought about that until later. But I know you're the strong one and will help him be the leader. Hang in there for Mom and Dad, too. I'll be sure and write to you as soon as I can, just like I said I would.

Now get some sleep, you goofy kid!

All my love,

Chester.

I sighed and choked back yet another lump. It had been a very emotional day.

Chapter 3

FIRST LETTER

The first weekend after Big Brother had left, Mom helped Mike and me separate our stuff, and Dad helped move the furniture so we could get situated in our own rooms. It wasn't as thrilling as I'd first thought it'd be. Oh, I was happy to move into Chester's room, but it was tough dealing with the excitement and sadness that'd gotten all jumbled up inside of me during the process. I remember hanging my bulletin board—now void of my creative artwork and a ribbon I'd received in second grade for drawing the best animal—in my new room, next to my roll-top desk. The bulletin board was where I'd hang all of the letters Chester had promised he'd send.

I shoved my bed into the dormer, putting the foot of it by the window so when I lay in it each night I'd be facing the window and could look out and see the same stars that Chester would be seeing. Somehow, in my mind, that helped me not miss him quite so much. I promised Chester in my heart that I'd check the mailbox every day when I got home from school.

A FEW WEEKS HAD PASSED. It being a Saturday, I could watch for the mailman. He'd no sooner finished loading the big metal box than I was out the door. I dropped the mailbox lid, looked inside, and pulled out a few envelopes. I went racing back into the house shouting, "It's here! It's here!" I dashed into the front room where everybody was sitting and nearly tripped over the footstool.

"Slow down, young man. You know you're not to run in the house," Mom said. "What's here?"

I stopped and caught my breath. "The first letter from Big Brother!" I held it up with pride. "Can _I_ open it?"

Mom barely laughed and said, "I suppose so."

I tore off the end of the envelope and handed the narrow strip to Mike. I pulled the letter from the envelope and handed it, empty, to Mike as well. I saw him roll his eyes. I remember breathing so fast I began to feel like I was going to pass out, but I couldn't help it knowing that I was holding the first piece of anything we'd received from Chester. And the fact that it was something Big Brother had last touched sent me over the top. I held it to my nose and sniffed the paper. I don't know if it really did smell like Chester, but it sure did in my mind. I noticed Dad put his paper down; he'd become fully attentive to me. I instantly unfolded the letter and began to read it to myself.

"Well, can the rest of us hear what he has to say?" Dad asked.

" _Oh. Yes sir, sorry about that." I didn't want to move my eyes back up to the top and start over because I'd just gotten to the best part, but I did it out of respect. "Okay. Chester wrote: Dear Mom, Dad, Mike, and Jeb." I couldn't figure out how he knew I wanted him to call me Jeb, but it was certainly an honor. "First off, I've arrived safe and sound. So Mom, there's no need to worry." I heard a nervous laugh escape her lips. "The bus took us to Cincinnati where I got my physical exam and was sworn into the U.S. Navy. From there we went by train to the Chicago naval training center at Great Lakes, N.T.S., Illinois. Who'd have ever thought I'd see such a big city? And believe me when I say it's big! We got here on November 26th around midnight, but I learned really fast that the Navy works twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week." When I looked up to see if everyone was still listening (as though they wouldn't have been) I saw Dad crack half a smile. "Sue will be happy to know I've got my uniform now. I was assigned to my barracks and found my bunk with no trouble. The guys I'm with are all good men. It's quite the experience being around so many men who are as enthused as I am to serve our country."_

Mom sighed. "Imagine. Our oldest...a man. And a sailor man nonetheless." I saw her smile at Dad, but of course Dad didn't respond. Mom said, "You ol' goat. Would it hurt your face to smile big, just once? You should be proud of our oldest."

"Who said I wasn't?"

"Well, you never acknowledge half of what I say. I thought perhaps this was important enough you'd least ways agree with me." She cocked her head and gave him sad eyes.

Dad said, "Like I said a while back—I believe it was on his birthday—he's 18, and that makes him a man. I already knew that, so why would I need to acknowledge it again?"

"Oh, never mind." Mom looked back at me and smiled. "Go ahead, Jeb."

I was kind of glad they'd had a little dispute. It had given me time to catch my breath. I combed through the letter to find my place then continued, "I will say, the first night I laid my head on that strange pillow, it hit me; I'm 480 miles from home, and there's no turning back until the Navy says so. But it's OK now, because we're full swing into boot camp training. I've learned so much already. This place has a way of changing a person, all for the better. I can honestly say I'm not fond of mess duty or guard duty in the middle of the night, but I'm sure it's preparing me in some way. As soon as I have more news I'll let you know. I miss all of you terribly, but luckily they seem to enjoy keeping me so busy I don't have time to think about much of anything else but training.

Yours truly,

Chester."

Dad held out his hand, and I handed him the letter. He took one look, and his face changed expression. "Well I'll be. That boy finally learned how to write legibly." He laughed and handed the letter to Mom.

When she'd finished looking at it, she handed it to Mike. I watched Mike frown just a tad, and I could tell he was looking past the letter. I figured it was too hard for him to hold it and read it, as he still talked to me every night about how much he missed Chester.

I asked Mike if I could have the letter back, and he didn't hesitate to give it to me. I went up the stairs, skipping every other one, and into my room. I opened the drawer on my desk and pulled out a thumb tack. I pinned the letter to the bulletin board then stepped back and admired it. I was as proud as a peacock.

Chapter 4

A SHORT 15

January 9, 1944

One of the best days of my life...I just didn't know it.

I'd gotten home from school and checked the mailbox. We hadn't received a letter from Chester since the first one. I hung my head and carried what I felt to be useless mail into the house. I dumped my school books on the kitchen counter and headed for the refrigerator. I had to push Mike over a bit to see what was available for a snack. I chose the leftover half of a bologna sandwich.

Mom came into the kitchen to start dinner. All "H-E-double toothpicks" was bound to break loose if dinner wasn't on the table when Dad got home. Her kind voice met our ears. "So what did you boys learn at school today?"

I shrugged. "The usual stuff I guess. Arithmetic, English, science." I took another bite of my sandwich.

Mike added, "Yeah. Same for me. Except I learned one extra thing I'll definitely remember."

"What's that?" Mom was peeling carrots at the sink, so she had her back turned to us.

"I learned that I sure miss recess!"

Mom and I both laughed; I agreed with him 100 percent on that one.

A knock came at the door. Puzzled, we looked at each other. Mom said, "I didn't think the Jewel Tea man would be here today. And even if he is, it's getting late for him." She smoothed out her apron as she walked to the door.

We went tearing through the house when we heard Mom scream.

I could not believe my eyes. Chester had her in his arms, her feet off of the ground, spinning her in circles. This time I _did_ trip over the footstool. After we all greeted one another, we decided to plan a surprise for Dad.

THE DOOR PUSHED OPEN AND Dad made his way inside. I saw him loosening his tie. He kissed Mom on the cheek—something new he'd started doing ever since Chester had gone. She smiled. Dad started to walk by the table when something caught his eye. He said, "I see you have Chester's place setting on the table."

Mom didn't turn around, but I heard her sniffle. Dad approached her from behind. I saw him place a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You're missing him badly aren't you?"

Mom never looked at him, but she wiped her nose with the underside of her wrist.

"So what's for supper?" Chester came bounding in from the other room where he'd been hiding.

Son! What are you doing here?" Dad stared at Chester in what I figured was total disbelief.

"They granted me a fifteen-day leave, and I couldn't think of any place I'd rather be than home. So here I am!"

"Well isn't that something? You look mighty strong and confident, son. I think you made a good choice, enlisting." Dad walked back over to Mom and said, "And YOU are a little fake! Sniffling like that just to set me up."

Mom turned and faced Dad, obvious joy covering her face. "I just love surprises, don't you?"

Dad's face went to stone. "No." He looked at Chester. "But I guess a surprise today is OK." Then he smiled. I'll always remember the manly hug he gave Big Brother.

Supper was served, but it wasn't chicken and noodles since Mom had no idea Chester would be arriving near supper time. In fact, I really don't remember exactly what we had, but I definitely remember that particular meal tasting extra good.

After supper we all went into the front room to listen to the radio. I watched Chester's expressions change with every tidbit of news delivered. When Dad turned the radio off we bombarded Chester with questions. Silly questions really, but it was light conversation that made the evening seem even more special.

During the fifteen days Chester was home Sue spent most of her time at our house. I couldn't always tell whether she was there or not when I got home from school, because her sweet perfume lingered pleasantly in the air regardless.

Chester treated Mike and me to a very special evening on Saturday. He took Sue and us to see a picture show, "Two Girls and a Sailor." There was something about that big screen that made Ava Gardner, June Allyson, Van Johnson, and Jimmy Durante look amazing. And to top it off, we had a detailed presentation of the newsreel before the main feature; Chester told us bits and pieces about the war as the pictures appeared. I remember that trip to the box office being a real eye-opener. I wondered how many other guys were home on leave and telling their families about the war as the images jittered on the silver screen.

Fifteen days seemed like fifteen minutes. But those few days created memories that would last forever. When Chester finally had to go back, it didn't seem as hard for me to say goodbye. But Sue clung to him like a bee on honey. I can't say as though I blamed her, and Chester certainly wasn't telling her to let go!

He dished out the remaining hugs and made certain to muss up my hair. I laughed at that. He walked out the door and waved. We watched him until he once again disappeared out of sight as he went to the corner where the bus would pick him up. Mom shut the door, and we all looked at each other. I saw Mom holding back tears. I noticed Mike was maintaining his composure with a bit more strength this time.

Mom took us boys by the hands, and we went to the kitchen. The breakfast mess nearly brought me to tears; I swear I saw all of the fun we'd had over the last fifteen days flash before my eyes. I grabbed my school books and sack lunch and gave Mom a kiss on the cheek. "See ya after school, Mom." I figured Mike wouldn't be too far behind me.

I thought about Chester all the way to school. I didn't want any of my friends to see me crying, so I choked back the sappy emotions every time they tried to overtake me. I constantly told myself that since he'd left and come home once, surely it'd happen again, and hopefully in the very near future.

Chapter 5

SCABIES

Our next letter from Chester came a few short weeks after he'd left. Again I raced to the house from the mailbox with the prize in my hand, ready to find out everything I could from Big Brother.

Patience sure can aggravate a boy, but I did as asked and waited. Supper was over and, as always, we headed for the living room. This time Dad didn't turn on the radio, and he allowed me to open and read Chester's news. Without missing a beat I pulled it from my back pocket.

"Kind of crumpled there boy, don't you think?" Dad held half a grin.

I looked at it and felt my face blush. "Kind of...I guess." I tore it open and began to read the news aloud. "Dear family, I made it back safe and sound. It sure was great getting to see all of you. I miss you already, but as we all know by now, the Navy is getting ready to keep me busy once again, so luckily I won't have time on my hands to be getting all misty-eyed. It's looking like they're going to be sending me to some type of schooling—Sound School, I believe they said. I have no idea what it's about, but I do know I'm going to Key West, Florida, to begin the schooling and my actual Naval service. Kind of scares me, but I'm excited too. I'll do my best to write you from Key West and let you know how things are going there. Be sure and have Mom make a batch of chicken and noodles and mashed potatoes! Give Sue a hug.

My love to all of you,

Chester."

I rushed upstairs and pinned the letter to my bulletin board and figured that the time between that letter and his next trip home would be about the same. I was sadly mistaken.

CHESTER TOSSED HIS DUFFLE BAG onto his bunk in the barracks. He met some new faces, and together they swapped stories about boot camp. Chester could hardly wait to hear what this Sound School was all about. After getting settled in, he heard the announcement and reported immediately.

A loud voice resonated. "Welcome gentleman, to Fleet Sonar School here in sunny Key West, Florida. You will be training in sonar techniques and equipment, as well as anti-submarine warfare."

Chester did not let his disappointment show when he thought, This doesn't sound very interesting at all. I want to be on a ship, not learning this junk. I've already had my basic training. What in the world do I need more training for? When he's done yelling I think I'll ask him if I can move onto the ship now. I mean, come on, I graduated boot camp with honors. There must be some mistake.

The loud voice continued. "There will be testing on the information you receive. The ships have no room for failures. If you fail to pass this test you will spend your entire Naval service here in sunny Key West, Florida, doing mess duty. Do I make myself clear?"

"AYE SIR!" Chester joined the chorus of men returning the conditioned response.

"Dismissed!"

Chester grabbed his newest buddy Hank by the arm and whispered, "Do you think he was serious about the mess duty thing?"

"Whether he is or not makes no difference to me. All I know is you have to pass this if you want on a ship. So I'm going to stomach through the training for a chance to be a captain someday." He patted Chester's grasp, and Chester released him.

"I can see your point." Chester nodded. "Thanks."

"I'll catch you back at the bunkhouse. I'm going to go run some laps to let off some of this energy." Hank looked at Chester for a moment longer. "You're welcome to join me."

"Uh...not this time. I've got a letter or two I'd like to write while we still have a few hours to ourselves."

"And I can see _your_ point. Catch you later, sailor." Chester watched Hank thump off in his boots.

CHESTER'S FIRST DAY OF CLASS ended up being a nightmare. The information came fast and furious. Though Chester had been a good student and a smart kid, he had never been a quick note-taker.

For the duration of the class Chester did nothing but eat, sleep, and drink Sound School. He was glad his buddies were kind enough to share and compare their notes with him so he could get the detailed information down pat.

When it came test time Chester made certain to focus on nothing but the skills for which he had been trained. Every tick of the clock's second hand could be heard during the assessment. One by one Chester watched the others in the class close their test booklets and make their way to the front. Chester finished next to last, but he wanted to be certain all of his answers were correct.

March 16, 1944

Chester could be heard shouting for joy across the barracks. He had passed with flying colors as a Sonarman 3rd Class Petty Officer. He made an effort to thank each of his buddies, especially Hank, for helping him make the grade.

Chester could not wait to share the news with his family. It had been weeks since he had written. He pulled out his tablet, but before he could even scratch the first word he was informed of his reassignment, and they shipped him off by rail to Norfolk, Virginia.

During his travel Chester had plenty of time to think. _I wonder what Mike and Jeb are up to? I wonder if Dad misses me yet? I'll bet Mom's counting the days—no, minutes—until I can return home._ Chester almost smiled. _I sure miss her cooking._ The train whistle blew, jolting Chester's trend of thought. Now all he could think about was finishing that letter he had not had the chance to start, but his notepad and pencil were tucked away in his duffle bag that was nowhere in immediate sight.

After the train ride came a truck ride to the new barracks in Norfolk. In a few days he found himself in a pickle, itching like crazy.

"I've got what?"

"Scabies," the stern doctor answered.

"So I can't report for duty. Is that what you're saying?"

"That is correct."

Chester watched the doctor fill out some paperwork then leave the room. Chester never had cared much for medical professionals and always wondered why their conversations were so short. Not knowing whether to stay in the room or leave, Chester decided to give it another five minutes.

A nurse came into the room. "You'll need to report to the hospital." She handed Chester some papers. "You'll need to take these with you to be admitted." Her smile, if that what it was supposed to be, did not settle well with Chester, but he knew better than to question her. Chester also tried to get the hospital nurse to laugh after his first jelly coating. "All I can say is this is not my idea of a fancy hotel." But his attempt at humor made no changes to her stony face.

While he had nothing to do but take goo baths for five days, Chester decided to finish that letter he had started. He told the family everything good and left out the part about the scabies. He knew Dad would be fine and probably commend him for coming through it with flying colors. But Chester also knew for a fact that Mom would get scared, Mike would hyperventilate, and Jeb would have the letter proudly hanging in his room, and he did not want to present a token that would cause any of them to worry about him.

Chapter 6

GUESS WHO'S COMING TO DINNER

May 10, 1944

Chester arrived in Houston, Texas. His temporary home would be Camp Wallace for the next four days. On May 14 Chester boarded a ship for the first time. When he initially laid eyes on the DE-416 USS _Melvin R. Nawman_ , a destroyer escort, the massive size of the vessel anchored before him made the hair on his arms stand. He could not believe he would be sailing on something so impressive.

The first thing he did was spend time in the Galveston Todd Dry Dock where the crew loaded stores and ammunition and took on fuel. The tasks seemed grueling, but he fully understood how necessary they were.

June 2, 1944

The DE-416 USS _Melvin R. Nawman_ set sail, heading out to sea where the big rollers rocked the ship in slow motion. Chester had never been so excited. The smell of the air, the sight of the salty sea water spraying over the bow, and the sound of the mighty engines thrilled him beyond belief. The first night in the bunk Chester felt himself slowly rolling from right to left, but it did not keep him from sleeping. Working so hard during the day had exhausted him.

"Rise and shine!" The extra loud voices and the banging on the steel trash can lids between the bunks shot through Chester's head. He had not slept so soundly in a while, but thanks to basic training he jumped up without hesitation, got dressed, made his bed, and reported to the mess hall for some breakfast. He sat at the table with his closest bunk mates.

Chester felt an elbow in his side. "Did you hear Steve hurling a little bit ago?" Randall asked Chester.

Chester saw Steve turn red as a beet. He looked at the sailor next to Randall and said, "No, but I heard Tim!"

"Hey, those scrambled eggs you've got there...they look kind of slimy, don't they?" Randall poked at Steve and Tim's eggs with his fork.

"Yeah, and is this really gravy on these biscuits?" Chester dug his spoon into his own gravy, held it up and let it splat back onto the biscuits. "Looks kinda like glue!"

Randall laughed out loud when Steve and Tim got up and took off running. "Is it just me, or did they look a little green around the gills?"

Chester nodded and said, "If not green, at least gray!"

The sailors laughed and finished their food.

"Today's the big day, huh?" Chester looked at Randall with fire in his eyes.

"I guess it is." Randall wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Sounds like this shakedown cruise could get pretty hairy, if you ask me."

Chester thought for a second then nodded. "Yeah it could. But probably not as hairy as going into battle." He saw Randall's face flush, and the reality of being called to escort the destroyers began to sink deep into Chester's soul.

He found himself being run ragged over the next several weeks, breaking in the ship, doing some steering and speed drills and running battle drills, all while stationed in Bermuda until the Fourth of July when the ship returned to Boston, Massachusetts, for repairs and new orders.

~ Back Home ~

I THOUGHT IT SEEMED LIKE years since we'd received a letter from Chester, let alone actually getting to see him. For me, the town's Fourth of July celebration fizzled out; it had never done that before. Five days had passed since then, and Mom was still trying to cheer me up. I didn't like that summer. It was nowhere close to being the same without Chester home to watch the fireworks with, boss me around, play ball, swim in the creek, and shoot some archery. Mike tried to help me, but I could tell neither of us was truly in the mood to enjoy our first summer without Big Brother.

I couldn't believe it was only 11:00AM. I can remember the sweat rolling down my face as Mike and I were weeding the flower bed. No one had asked us to do it, but we were bored and thought maybe we could earn some extra "atta-boy" points that evening when Dad got home. I remember thinking I could never have too many "atta-boy" points.

"Lunch, boys!" Mom called from the back porch. We went running inside.

I frowned. "Hi Sue." I took my seat at the table, a bit surprised. "Haven't seen you for a long time." I knew I sounded a bit put-off, but I couldn't help it.

"Sue wanted to join us for lunch. I hope you boys approve," Mom's voice was kind.

We both shrugged then nodded. But I had to say _something._ I mean there she was, right in my face for the first time in months, and a situation had been bothering me. "Are you ever gonna tell Chester you've been engaged twice so far since he's been gone? I thought you were gonna wait for him to come back? And now you're thinking of marrying this second guy? Speaking of the second guy, how is your number 2?" Mike sniggered, and I realized what I'd actually said. I couldn't help laughing as well.

Mom was quick to scold with a pointing finger. "Now, now. We don't need to pry and make others feel bad. Sue has joined us to tell us some news. Some good news, she says."

Sue smiled then spoke. "Well," she bit her bottom lip. She took in a deep breath and said, "I broke off the latest engagement last night."

"Hot dog!" I shouted and whistled, but I got a dirty look from Mom. Again, I couldn't help myself. "So you're gonna marry Chester?"

Sue sighed then said, "I can't answer for _him,_ but I got to looking at some pictures of Chester and me, and I realized how happy he makes me. And no matter how long it takes for him to come home, he's the man for me." She looked directly at Mike and me and said, "You can't ever tell Chester about them. That's my job. Understood?" Her tone caused us to nod without thinking.

She looked at Mom. "But it's been close to seven months since he's laid eyes on me. And who knows how much longer it's going to be? I only hope when he gets another leave and comes home he'll still want me."

Mom reached out and took her hand. "And why wouldn't he? You're a beautiful girl with a heart the size of the moon." I could tell by Mom's expression and suppressed tone she was much happier than she looked and sounded. "And rest assured, if he's changed his mind about you, _I'll_ be changing it back." Mom patted Sue's hand.

"Well it's about time you came to your senses." I said to Sue. "Because I sure don't want to call anyone Sis but you." I winked at her.

"Me either," Mike said. "I don't know of another girl worthy of being part of this family. We've been around you for a long time. Long enough you seem like family already."

Mom beamed with what I assumed had to be pride in her two youngest boys. But truth be known, Sue really was keen, and we'd always secretly hoped for her to become a part of our real family. I thought, _Chester better not have changed his mind. And thank goodness Mom can be pretty persuasive._ I'd always been bitter against those other two guys Sue had tried to marry. They were no good, always into some kind of mischief. No way did they measure up to Big Brother. They didn't deserve _our_ Sue.

We finished our lunch, and I went to the mailbox while everyone else stayed at the table. Again, no letter. But Chester was running toward me from a block away! I tore toward him shouting, "Chester! Chester! You're home!" I saw him drop his duffle bag. I threw the mail and ran into his open arms.

Chapter 7

POP THE BIG QUESTION

July 9, 1944

Chester and I raced down the sidewalk, stopping to pick up the mail I'd tossed, then ran to the house. If Mom hadn't heard me screaming before I got there it would've been a miracle. I saw her come dashing out onto the porch with Mike and Sue. The smiles couldn't be peeled from our faces.

Sue came running toward us. I stepped aside and let her slam into Chester in the front yard. It actually knocked him off balance, and he fell backwards into the soft summer grass. Sue landed square on top of his chest and planted a big one on him. I saw Chester's arms wrap around Sue, and they locked lips for more than a few seconds. My heart pounded (I wasn't sure why at the time, but learned later on when I had my first kiss).

When the magnificent greeting on the ground was over, they both stood and walked arm in arm. I assumed Chester had forgotten all about his duffle bag, so I picked it up and carried it to the porch.

After the hugs were dished out we all went inside and sat down in the front room. The chit chat lasted for a few minutes then Chester looked at Mom. "What's for supper?"

She broke out in an even bigger smile. "How about a nice big pot of chicken and noodles, some sweet fried corn, and mashed potatoes?" Before Chester could answer, Mom had already gone back into the kitchen to get the noodles ready to dry. Sue tagged along to help, leaving us three "men" alone.

Since the previous conversation was still fresh in my mind, I found that this time I was not as interested in his service and duties so much as I was talking to him about Sue. I was blunt. "So when are you and Sue getting married?"

"Married? Where did you get that idea, Bean Belly?"

Mike laughed.

I scowled. "I'm just saying Sue's a pretty gal. And if she's not tied down soon, someone else may get her instead of you. And we really want Sue to be a part of _our_ family, not somebody else's."

A bit of orneriness leaked out around the edges of Chester's grin. He opened his duffle bag and pulled out a small black velvet box and held his finger to his lips. "Shhhh. Don't say a word; don't make any noise." He cracked open the box, and the biggest diamond I had ever seen stared me in the face. It was perched on a square setting atop a very shiny gold band. I have no idea what Mike did, but I gulped. Chester whispered, "I'm going to ask Sue to marry me sometime while I'm home here these next few days. And I'd like to get her father's permission, too. So don't be spilling the beans...Bean Belly!" We all laughed.

"What's so funny in there?" Mom shouted from the kitchen.

"Oh, nothing. Just sailor talk." It felt good to have Chester getting us off the hook again. He'd done it for us all the time while we were growing up.

"Well you'd better not be telling them rude things that they shouldn't be repeating later!"

"I'm not, just normal ship stuff and some funny stuff about the food they make us eat."

Mike and I couldn't stop elbowing each other.

Chester had no more than put the black velvet box in his uniform's pocket when Sue walked back into the room. Cool as a cucumber Chester said, "Come here, pretty girl." She sat on his lap. "Have I ever told you you're a sight for sore eyes?"

Sue giggled and said, "Well, you've never quite put it that way."

We moved our conversation outside as the weather lent itself to a perfect summer day. We laughed and talked the afternoon away. Mom made some fresh-squeezed lemonade and served it to us out on the back porch. I took one sip and said, "Now this is what I call a real summer."

Chester stayed in uniform and greeted Dad when he pulled into the driveway. I'd never seen Dad move so fast to get out of the car. Then I found out why he usually took his time.

"Great to see you, boy!" Dad hugged Chester then turned to get his work stuff out of the car. "Dag nab it!" He pulled hard on the car doors. "I've gone and locked my keys in the car."

"Don't worry, Honey!" Mom's voice came from the porch. She was holding a metal coat hanger that she'd already bent out of shape. Apparently she'd seen Dad rush to get out of the car before and knew the routine.

The chicken and noodles were ready just in time. When the meal was over and the last bite of rhubarb pie had been consumed, Chester clinked his spoon gently on his water glass. "May I have your attention please?" A hush fell over the room.

Wide-eyed and chomping at the bit to hear what I thought he would say about the ship from the conversation that afternoon, I was disappointed when all he did was stand there. And it seemed like he stood there forever. Finally he made a move. He walked around the table to Sue, got down on one knee, pulled out the black velvet box, opened it and said, "Sue, will you marry me?"

I saw Dad's eyes bug. Mom cried, Mike's jaw dropped, and I felt my own head subtly bob.

Sue batted her eyes, smiled big, nodded, and said, "Yes!" Chester slid the ring onto her finger. We all cheered, except Dad.

Dad glared at Sue. "How are you going to stay married to a man who's gallivanting around the world as a sailor? Don't you know these Navy men all have access to ladies of the evening? He'll break your heart, I tell you. He'll rip it right in two."

Chester slowly stood and turned. "Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Dad." I could see that Chester was going to take-on Dad on a whole new level this time. I lowered my head and smooshed my fork over the remaining smear left by my mashed potatoes. Chester continued. "I've been in the Navy for over half a year now, and not once...NOT ONCE...have I given into a hooker!"

Mom gasped.

Dad tried to correct Chester. "Don't you mean 'lady of the evening?'" I saw Dad, out of the corner of my eye, throw his head a couple of times toward Mike and me.

Out of the other corner I saw Chester stand at attention when he said loudly, "No sir, I don't. I _mean_ hookers. Come on. Where have you been? Wise up. Jeb's the youngest, and he's 12, and in some countries that almost makes him a man." I looked up for a brief second and smiled at Chester, then quickly returned to drawing with my fork in my smeared food. Chester's volume escalated. "Yes, hookers _are_ abundant at the docks. But not every sailor is a runaround kind of man. In fact I have three other friends who have not given into those si-reens."

"Well, aren't you just the big tough man? You need to remember who's in charge here. You're not a petty officer in this house, boy. When you're here, you're still my boy, and that means you're going to listen to me!"

"Oh really? Who was the one, when I was trying to make a decision of whether to enlist or wait for the draft, who said, 'He's a man now, he's 18..."

Mom butted in. "OK. Now the both of you need to settle down."

Out of what I assumed was respect, Chester's voice softened. "Not this time, Mom. Dad is over-stepping his boundaries." He looked back at Dad and returned to full volume. "I want to marry Sue. And obviously..." he picked up her left hand, "...she wants to marry me."

My guts twisted in a knot at this point.

Chester finished with, "I'm going to take her back home now, and I'm going to ask her father's permission. Does that sound like some man who enjoys running around? No it doesn't, and you know it. And another thing, I'll bet Sue's dad will think more of me than you do right now!" Chester took Sue by the hand, and they made a surprisingly quiet exit.

I cringed, waiting for Dad to break the silence. Oddly enough it wasn't him, it was Mom. "OK. Time to clear the table, do the dishes, and then listen to the radio." I looked up in time to see her straighten her apron and pat Dad on the shoulder. He never changed his solemn expression. He simply picked up the mail and headed for the living room.

I was glad to hear the radio click on. We joined Dad and listened to the war news. I asked to be excused early and headed up to my room. Mike did the same. We listened through the vent in the floor, but heard nothing from either Mom or Dad. That put me at ease. I put my pajamas on, brushed my teeth, then ducked under my covers with my flashlight and read a bit more of "Two Captains" before falling asleep.

Chapter 8

A BIG SECRET

The next morning Chester was whistling a happy tune. I already knew why, but I asked, just to be sure, "Did Sue's dad give you the go-ahead to marry her?"

"He sure did. No big plans or a date as of yet, but we'll be getting married."

I had no words, only shouts of joy to give Big Brother.

The morning came when Chester had to leave us once again. Mom hadn't called us for breakfast as of yet, so I stayed put, sitting at my desk drawing a diagram of a kite I wanted to build. Chester knocked on the open bedroom door and asked if he could invite himself into my room. I agreed. He shut the door behind him, and I knew then whatever he was about to say would be important. I held my breath as he approached my bed and took a seat.

"Hey, Bean Belly."

I looked at him and cracked up. "Thank goodness you're kidding about Bean Belly."

"Who said I was kidding?" Chester smirked. He had me going for a moment, but I caught on fast. We both chuckled.

"How come you shut the door? Is this like a secret meeting or something?"

Chester licked his lips and looked out the window. "No, not really." He looked back at me. "Jeb, I can't lie. It's kind of scary out there on that water. Our ship is big, but sometimes I'm not so sure it's going to be big enough."

"Whadda ya mean, 'big enough'? You're a sailor! Shoot, you're even a petty officer already. You can handle anything. I know you can. You're my big brother. If you get scared, then I know I should be scared."

"Hold on, slow down there. I'm not saying I'm scared, I'm just saying, with what I've seen so far, it seems like our ship may not be big enough. I guess this all sounds stupid. But I can't help it. I've got a gut feeling something bad's going to happen. And that's why I wanted to talk to you."

I remember feeling my stomach doing flips and flops. "Don't think that way. It's not stupid, but still, don't think that way. You're gonna be fine. You've made it home twice in seven months. You'll always come back, no matter how long it is between leaves."

"I wish I felt the same way. But I don't."

I looked at him, and with every ounce of sincerity I could muster I said, "Chester, you're gonna make it through. You've made it through tougher times than these. Shoot, remember when me and you and Mike accidentally set the lawn mower shed on fire? We could've sworn Dad would beat us within a half-inch of our lives then kick us out of the house, and we'd be homeless. But that didn't happen because you got us out of it. If those enemies come at you, just talk your way right out of being shot at!"

Chester shook his head and said, "Oh, how I wish it were that easy, kid. The Navy's not like that. The _war's_ not like that. Those enemies are trained to kill us and not think twice about us when we die."

"Then quit! Drop out. You can come back home. You know how happy that'd make Mom? And who cares if Dad yelled at you a couple of days ago. He's yelled at you before, and you're still alive. Plus we'd get to smell Sue's sweet perfume again." I smiled at Chester, but he did not return the favor.

"What do you mean, again? Hasn't she been spending most of her time here while I'm gone?"

I tried not to allow my fear of letting the news show on my face. I guess I pulled it off when I made up a story and said, "Well, yeah. But she stopped wearing her perfume because she said there wasn't anybody special to wear it for." I held my breath.

"That's mighty thoughtful of her, I must say. And that's just one of the reasons I want to marry her." Chester smiled big, and I let out an internal sigh of relief. Chester continued. "Jeb, it's not the enemies that have my guts in knots, it's the dag gum seas. We've been over some mighty big rollers and sailed through a few storms, but I have a feeling that, one of these days, we're in for a doozy. We can't escape Mother Nature forever out there on those waters." Chester looked at me, and I couldn't fight back the tears. He reached up and wiped them away.

I turned back around and continued drawing on my kite diagram, though I had to erase most of it because I trembled so while drawing. I wanted so badly for him to give in and come home. I felt bad now that I'd lied to him about Sue, but she had sternly said to me not to tell him, that it was her place to let him know about the other guys. I thought, _Maybe there really is some truth to what Chester's saying about the storms._ I turned back around to face him and said, "Why are you telling me this stuff? Are you just trying to scare me? Because if so, you've done an outstanding job. And why aren't you talking to Mike about this too?"

"I'm not talking to Mike about this because Mom would find out. Get my drift?"

I paused then spoke. "Yeah. You're right. Mike never was very good at secrets." Those words made me shudder inside knowing Mike knew about the other two guys Sue had been engaged to.

Chester nodded. "Exactly. And I need to tell someone about this in case I...I...don't make it back one of these times."

"Stop talking that way!"

Chester put a finger to my lips and said, "Shh. Don't talk. Just listen." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small cardboard box. He opened it, and I saw several small pieces of paper folded up in it. "I need you to keep these safe and sound. They're not to be pinned on your bulletin board for the family to see. The only time you or anyone else needs to look at these is if I don't make it back one of these times. They hold very special greetings to each of you, should I have to die for my country."

I stared at the folded notes in the box for a long time before I said anything. "OK. I'll hide them. But I'm gonna hide them so good I'll forget where I put them. And if I forget where I put them, that means you'll always come home because I won't be able to find and deliver the notes."

I'll never forget Chester's most genuine smile at that moment. He reached out, put a hand on my shoulder and said, "I wish that were true." He patted my shoulder. "Do what you must, think what you may. But I'm telling you, my gut feeling is _not_ good. I love you, Bean Belly, and I'm trusting you with these notes because you've proven yourself worthy." He stood, placed the box in my hand, and put my other hand on top of it. He stepped back, snapped to attention, and saluted me. It was nothing shy of impressive.

Again I paused, then I stepped back, set the box of notes on my desk, snapped to attention, and returned a salute.

"Breakfast is ready!" I heard Mom shout from the bottom of the stairs. I opened my door at the same time Mike did, and we all raced to the kitchen. Chester's leave had lasted four whole days. But it seemed like I had just seen him coming down the street. Then I blinked and he was going back up the street to leave us once again. I'm certain I wasn't the only one wishing the war would hurry up and end.

Chapter 9

LET'S HAVE A PARTY

Chester returned to Boston then on to Norfolk. The day after arriving at Norfolk, Chester boarded the USS _Melvin R. Nawman_. Accompanied by its sister ships, the DE-413 and the DE-418, the _Nawman_ escorted twelve various ships to their destinations. Chester's first stop would be Cuba, then on to the Panama Canal, and a final escort of a transport ship, the AK-13 filled with Marines and Japanese prisoners, to Pearl Harbor. That particular day Chester crossed the International Dateline twice, remaining fully attentive as part of the escorting mission entailed anti-sub patrol screening. The Pacific Ocean was in America's control. Humbly, Chester gave silent thanks to the fighting forces of the brave sailors and marines who had preceded him.

The weather held for quite some time making it a pleasant cruise to all twelve destinations and keeping Chester's nerves at rest as they journeyed over smooth seas.

September 14, 1944

The USS _Melvin R. Nawman_ cast off and set sail out of Pearl Harbor. While cruising the Pacific over several weeks the crew participated in gunnery practice and other drills. The DE-416 earned a place among the first five DEs that became known as the "Sub-Killer Group." During a battle station drill Chester remembered one of the seaman getting shell shocked and later being sent back to the States. Again the ship crossed the International Dateline. The next stop would be Perry Island, Eniwetok.

Chester had received a couple of letters, but he had not yet opened them. He wanted to wait for the right time. He left them lying on his bunk and took off out the door. He jogged past Randall on his way to the mess hall and said, "You'd better get a move on, sailor, if you want any of that delicious grub they're slopping on the trays."

Randall laughed and replied, "I wouldn't be in too big a hurry if I were you!"

Chester found it strange that he was the only one in line with his tray, but he quickly justified it by giving himself kudos for being the first one there. He scooted his tray along the ledge, the cooks dumping beans, rice, and whatever that brownish yellow stuff was, onto his divided plate. He grabbed a couple of cartons of milk and headed out into the dining area.

"SURPRISE!"

Chester nearly dropped his tray. There stood all of his buddies, including Randall, and some guys he did not know.

"Happy birthday to you..." the chorus began, and Chester could do nothing but stand there and turn red; he felt the heat in his cheeks intensify when they followed the birthday song with, "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow."

"Well geez, guys. Thanks a million." Chester looked around. "And here I thought I was finally first in line at the mess hall!" Everyone laughed. "But my birthday's no more special than the next guy's. Why me?"

Randall spoke up with pride, "We figured we could all use a break and some fun before we start in with the hardcore training drills tomorrow. So we cleared it through the Skipper for just this once. We chose _you_ because _your_ birthday is actually today." That brought a roar of laughter. Chester blushed, and Randall then turned sincere. "AND everyone on this ship is proud of you and your accomplishments. We haven't seen anyone try harder and make a go of it like you do." Randall turned and shouted, "Ain't that right boys?"

The "yesses," the "sures," and the "absolutelies," all resounded throughout the room.

Tim approached Chester and said, "We have your seat all ready for you." He started walking toward a table and motioned. Chester followed. Tim made sure to speak a little louder, "Oh, and by the way, you were dead last in line!" Again, laughter filled the mess hall.

Randall looked across the table at Chester. "Live it up, sailor! We probably only get to have a party on this ship once."

Chester smiled, but his insides twirled when he thought, I wonder if he means because we're not really supposed to do this, or does he have the same hunch about something bad happening that I do?

The crew spent the day on the island living it up. Steve hollered, "Hey guys! Come on! Skipper's giving rides on his aqua board. He'll tow you behind the motor whaleboat!"

Chester was first to reach the aqua board. His ride ended up being one of the fondest memories of his service. He marveled at the crystal clear water that shown ever so turquoise beneath the board. He saw a sea turtle, a couple of rays, and a small shark. The sand of the beach felt wonderful between his toes. After a few drinks he ran—well, more like staggered—with the others playing a game of football with a coconut. And of course they played full tackle with no rules. It was truly a day to be remembered with his buddies, whooping it up in the middle of the Pacific.

For Chester, and most likely all of the other sailors as well, the party did not last long enough. He could not wait to share the news with his family and Sue about the fun he and the others had had. Out came the paper and pencil. When he had sealed the letters in their envelopes and handed them off to be mailed, he returned to his bunk and opened the two envelopes he had received from home: one from the family and one from Sue. Both were birthday cards with greetings that brought a tear to his eye. There were also a few black and white photos included in the cards. Chester laughed at the group shots with everyone in those goofy pointed birthday hats, all holding horns and noise makers. He could tell that Mike had made the wooden "Happy Birthday" sign that leaned against their ankles and thighs. He loved how everyone was acting silly in the pictures. But the single shot of Jeb in his party hat, with his eyes crossed, looking as though he were blowing the party horn as loud as he could, made Chester laugh right out loud. He missed them all so very much.

November 1, 1944

HALLOWEEN CAME AND WENT, BUT the scares were not what one would expect on such a holiday. On this particular morning the _Melvin R. Nawman_ pulled into port at the Ulithian Islands and anchored among several warships and tankers. Chester's jaw dropped. He leaned over to Randall and said, "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

Randall had no words.

Chester continued, "Look at the size of that hole in the USS _Houston's_ stern."

Steve added, "Yeah, they say there's forty-two dead in her compartment, and she's supposed to be towed back to San Francisco."

The reality sunk in even further for Chester that the Japanese were not messing around. They meant business, and they meant war. Again Chester took a moment and gave a silent thanks for those on the USS _Houston._

On November 4 the _Melvin R. Nawman_ left the Ulithian Islands, heading for the Philippines. On November 5 the sailors received word that the CL-96 USS _Reno_ had been reported as being hit with a "fish," otherwise known as a torpedo. On November 6 Chester watched through his porthole as they passed the USS _Reno_ being towed by a tug and escorted by several DDs.

Randall approached Chester, and together they watched through the porthole. Randall asked, "Did you get the news?"

Chester sighed, "If you mean about the supposed hundred dead below her decks, yeah." He hung his head.

"You doing OK, buddy? You seem a little distraught there."

Chester looked back out the porthole, his eyes meeting with waves that were growing in height and strength. "It's just a bit more...I don't know...REAL than I ever expected."

Randall patted him on the back. "I know what you mean. I do my best to stay focused on my job..." He nodded toward the porthole. "...and not so much on what's going on out there."

"I know I need to be doing that too, but it seems like every time the weather takes a turn my gut gets sour."

"Don't tell me you're turning into one of those seasick-Navy-sailors."

Chester looked at Randall and half smiled. "No, it's not that. I've just got a bad feeling about never seeing home again. And when the seas get rough, that seems scarier than being attacked by the enemy. That's what my gut's sour over—maybe not making it back home. Last time I was there I got engaged, and I really want to make it back to go to my wedding. She's real special Randall. I can't begin to describe her beauty and warm heart."

"You got a picture of this sassy gal? Is she really that gorgeous?"

Chester wasted no time pulling her photo from his wallet. He beamed as he handed it to Randall and said, "See for yourself."

Randall's eyes widened. "Wow! I guess she is. You're one lucky sailor, and you're right, you need to make it back home alive for that very reason. If I were you I'd keep focused on that radar and sonar, 'cause you're just the guy to help guide us through every storm and battle. Successfully!"

Chester took Sue's picture back and tucked it away in his wallet. "I guess that would be me, huh?" He straightened and focused on his job a notch higher than ever before.

A couple of tugs joined the _Nawman_ that same day. Chester could feel the ship starting to roll more and more. The sounds of those few seasick-Navy-sailors could be heard randomly throughout the ship. Chester swallowed hard when the report came through that ships were being ordered out of port due to the rough weather.

The next day, November 7, Chester was relieved to feel the ship's unusual movements subsiding somewhat. As the day went on the tail end of the tropical storm passed. Nothing had been damaged on the ship, and Chester relaxed when his gut feeling gave way to relief. _Finally, maybe I can get some sleep tonight,_ he thought.

He breathed easy and made his way up on deck when Steve showed up to relieve him. He met Tim on deck, and together they noticed several flying fish that had landed on the ship. Tim moved one with his foot and said, "They most likely came on board while we were going through the storm.

"That's probably a really good guess."

"Well, I think I'm going to head back to my bunk and get out of these wet clothes. I'll catch up with you at mess time."

"Sounds good to me." Chester looked across the deck at the flying phenomena. He knelt and picked one up. Examining the limp fish closely gave him an idea.

Chapter 10

~ BACK HOME ~

STINKY MAIL

My bulletin board was filling up nicely with all of the letters we'd gotten from Chester. I have to say that the entire family was thrilled to receive a letter almost every week. Mom cried every time, but I've learned in life that's just what moms do during times such as those. Mom's crying aside, the letters seemed to help all of us ease the massive gap between us and Chester.

The letters I'd read and pinned from Big Brother over the last year held a mish-mash of news and stories, some with sad news, some holding news that was beyond frightening, and others with stories that were just plain hilarious. I remember my voice fading as I read one letter where Chester told of a plane that had been coming in for a landing on an American carrier, the USS _Ranger._ The pilot was flagged off to climb, but when he did, the plane stalled then crashed into the ocean, sinking almost immediately. Chester went on to say that the _Melvin R. Nawman_ had been appointed as a rear guard several hundred feet off the stern of the USS _Ranger._ When the _Nawman_ was in the right position, one of her seaman was sent over the side with a line attached and was able to save the pilot. Once back on board the _Nawman_ they found a bad cut over the pilot's eye that exposed his skull. The crew of the _Nawman_ gave him medical attention and reported that, after a couple of days, the pilot was doing fine.

A different letter had held the frightening news of yet another plane that had slid off the carrier's deck and ended up between two smoke stacks. No one was injured, and the plane was pushed off by several of the guys, but not before plenty of pictures had been taken of the accident.

Another letter brought the intense news from Chester that his ship had been involved in a rescue of three men on a life raft: a pilot, a navigator, and a radioman. Apparently the destroyed plane had been on dawn patrol. The altimeter registered 800 feet coming out of a dive when it crashed into the ocean. Luckily it took close to 60 seconds for that particular plane to sink, giving its crew ample time to get out.

It was hard to comprehend that all of those happenings occurred during training. Chester must have known we'd be thinking along those lines and assured us that things like that did happen, but because they weren't being bombarded by the enemy during the drills, it made for satisfying endings to the mishaps, for the most part.

The letters I read that included engaging with the enemy made not only me but the rest of the family, and especially Sue, very nervous. At first I wanted to screen the letters before I read them out loud so as not to worry everyone, but then I decided it was best that they know the truth. It made reading the letters a bit unnerving for me, but as soon as something came through that made us laugh, the terrors were quickly forgotten.

IT WAS A COLD, LATE November day, and Mike and I slipped and slid as we walked all the way home from school, throwing the occasional snowball at each other. I skidded into the mailbox. When I opened it I found nothing from Chester. I let out a sigh then traipsed to the back porch and into the house right behind Mike.

Before our feet even hit the floor Mom shouted, "Make sure you boys take off your boots right there in the mud room. I just mopped this kitchen floor, and I'm not doing it again for another week!"

I don't know if it was just ours, or if all snow boots were that tough to unbuckle and pull off, but we always had a time of it getting those blasted rubbery traps to let loose our feet.

The final "POP" sounded, and the boots were off. I set my books down on the kitchen table and went to the refrigerator. The apples that filled a soft cardboard box caught my eye this time for an afternoon snack; I figured they were nearly out of season and I wouldn't be seeing them again until next August.

I took my first crispy bite, and the juice squirted and ran down my chin. Instead of using a napkin or my sleeve to sop it up, I did my darnedest to lap it up with my tongue. I'm proud to say I got it all. Mike joined me at the table with an apple of his own.

Mom disappeared then returned with something in her hand. Handing me the plastic-wrapped package she said, "The postman brought this to the door today." I couldn't see through the thick wrapping, so I couldn't tell who it was from. "The postman said it's from Chester, then something about it stinking so bad they wrapped it in the plastic to keep it from smelling. I can't even imagine what that crazy big brother of yours is up to now."

I hung my head and said, "We have to wait for Dad, don't we?" Then I gave Mom the sad puppy eyes, but to no avail.

"Of course we do. Now finish your apples and get busy on your homework."

When we stood to head to our rooms Mom made sure we left the plastic-wrapped package in the kitchen. Somehow, using that incredible magic that mom's possess, she knew we'd peek if left without supervision.

The aroma of ham and beans cooking, along with a hint of sweet cornbread baking, wafted up through the bedroom floor vent. I could hardly wait for Dad to get home. I finished my last algebra problem and headed back downstairs, straight into the kitchen.

"Oh good. You can help set the table," Mom said.

_Drats! I finished my homework too soon._ Mom had already put the plates out, leaving me with the silverware, glasses, and napkins.

Sue knocked and let herself in just in time to help me finish my job. I put the last knife in its place, and the mudroom door squeaked open then closed. I ran to it. "Hi Dad! We got a package from Chester today! The postman specially wrapped it in plastic and delivered it. Come on, I'll show you."

"Wait till I get these blasted boots off." He hung up his frosted coat and put his wooly half-frozen scarf on a separate hook. He took a seat on the bench and began the process of removing his boots. I watched him struggle and helped pull the second boot from his foot.

We walked into the kitchen, and there it was—the plastic mystery package. Dad stopped, picked it up and shook his head. "I wonder what that boy's up to now." He sniffed it a couple of times. "Don't smell anything." He examined it a bit further then laid it back down, right beside his place setting. I stood motionless, staring at the package. Dad walked over and gave Mom a kiss on the cheek then returned to his chair and took a seat.

Mom pulled the cornbread from the oven and walked to the table with it. "OK. That should do it. Supper's ready. Let's eat!"

I had never found my chair so fast.

We had just put the food on our plates when Dad picked up the package and said, "Curiosity's got the best of me. How 'bout we do something a little different this evening. How 'bout we open up this package from Chester before we dive into our meals?"

I looked at Mom. When I saw her nod I joined right in with my vocal approval. "Killer-diller!"

Dad's head jerked up, and he looked at me with a weird expression. "You kids and your crazy words these days. I'm assuming that means it would be good?"

I nodded so fast my vision blurred.

"OK," Dad continued, "We'll do that. But first I want to say grace." Dad reached out, and we all joined hands as he led us in a short prayer. He picked up the envelope and looked at me. "How about I open this one?" Being as he was the dad, I had to say yes. Inside I was traumatized though, as this was the first letter I hadn't opened. All I could think about was the fact that he'd better not ruin anything inside!

Dad gave half a smile as he grabbed Mom's hand and squeezed it. She smiled back. Dad said, "I can't believe our oldest is sending us something from around the world. Not just a letter, but a gift. And it's not even a special occasion."

He let loose Mom's hand and held the package out in front of him. He stared at it for what seemed like hours. Mom finally said, "Well, are you going to open it?"

"Uh, oh, yeah. Here goes."

We all watched in anticipation as Dad pulled out his pocket knife and cut the tape. I couldn't believe he took the time to put the knife back in his pocket. I wanted to shout, _Come on already,_ but I knew better than to do that.

Dad took care in unrolling layer after layer of the plastic. He peeled back the last layer and exposed the envelope. He grabbed his nose. "What in tarnation is in this letter?"

"Ewwwww!"

"Aaaack!"

"Puuuueeeey!"

We were all holding our noses right along with Dad. Bravely he let go of his nose, turned his head and took in a deep breath; he held it as he pulled out his pocket knife again. He slit the envelope open and pulled out the letter. SPLAT! Right out of the folded letter and into Dad's ham and beans dropped two unusual, transparent, crispy-looking things. He reached for the "things" and "un-glued" them from his plateful of food. He brought them toward his nose. "PHEW!" he shouted and pulled them away from his nose, ever so fast. The tone of his voice while he was holding his nose made us all laugh...in the same funny tone, of course, since we were still holding our noses, too. It took us a few minutes to quit laughing at the sounds of each other's silly voices, but we managed to do so and catch our breath. When the noise subsided Dad pushed the letter to me and said (still sounding like an elf), "Here boy, open it up and read it. Certainly he'll tell us what these..." he held up the things and took a closer look then rapidly pulled them away from his face, "...wonderful treasures from the Pacific actually are."

Luckily the letter unfolded one-handed. I started reading aloud, "Hello everyone. I hope the flying fish wings made it to you safe and sound."

Dad didn't eat his dinner that night.

Chapter 11

~BACK AT SEA~

NOW I KNOW GOD REALLY EXISTS

Early morning, December 18, 1944

Chester was devastated when the news report came through: STORM WARNING...TYPHOON WEATHER EXPECTED APPROXIMATELY 10:00AM. His heart sank, and his gut feeling returned.

The skipper soon realized that out-sailing this beast was not a possibility. He shouted order after order. Men went scrambling from bow to stern as Chester and the crew began making preparations for the approaching fierce storm. The other ships near the _Nawman_ began to break their patterns and sail their own ways to avoid collisions with the other ships in the group. In minutes the sea had taken on a haunting appearance, and Chester believed it had become angry with the ships and was beginning to take out its personal vengeance on the helpless vessels and their crews.

Chester finished his on-deck duties in the drenching rain and salty spray and slid down the ladder to the berth quarters. A wave caught the ship, and it listed more drastically than when he had been on deck. The sound of the wind let Chester know it had begun to barrel over the water with more force. He found it harder than usual to make his way through the small doorways but eventually reached his chair. The roar of the engine and the noise of the creaking ship drilled their way into the depths of Chester's ears.

Randall came rushing by and saw Chester in trouble. "Strap in! Strap in!"

"I'm trying, but the ship's rolling so bad I can't seem to hang on long enough to get it fastened!"

The ship listed to port. Randall rushed to the lower side of the chair and pushed up on Chester, giving the straps enough slack for him to fasten the buckles.

"Thanks, buddy!" Chester pulled on the straps to tighten them to the point where it was difficult for him to take a deep breath.

Randall headed toward the door. He shouted before he ducked out, "Now you hang on Chester, and I'll see you on the other side of this storm. She's a doozy!"

Chester nodded. He could not help but wonder how the ship and he and his crew mates would ever weather this typhoon. He looked out the porthole. His eyes could open no wider as the _Nawman_ crested a wave he thought was big enough to crush the ship. Each time the _Nawman_ passed over the tops of the waves, Chester had a few seconds to see that the moving, frothy-topped walls coming from the horizon seemed to be building by the minute. Frightened, he returned his focus to the radar and kept a keen ear to the radio.

The radio hissed and crackled, but Chester was able to make out most of what was said. He glanced out the porthole again as the ship crested another wave. He had not been raised as a cussing man, but the intense ride lent itself to knowing where the phrase 'cuss like a sailor' may have originated. He could not help himself when he shouted, "Holy shit!" He saw it coming, the wave that had just been reported to be over fifty feet tall. His heart pounded in his chest, and the same thumping hammered in his ears. He snapped his neck rapidly from radar to porthole and back multiple times. That motion, in addition to the extreme listing, began to make Chester severely disoriented. He closed his eyes and lowered his head, clenching the handles on either side of the radar. It took several seconds before he felt his equilibrium come back to a somewhat normal state. He opened his eyes and looked back out the porthole. The _Nawman_ was cresting, catty-whompus, the wave before the giant one. Chester heard over the radio that the winds were in excess of 132 mph and climbing.

His stomach flipped as the ship dropped from the top of the wave and into the trench before the big one. "Damn!" he shouted when the ship landed hard in the liquid gulley. _Bad timing! We're in the wrong position to take on that massive wall of water coming up next!_ The enormous wave had gotten close enough now that Chester could no longer see the top of it through the porthole. He whispered with a tremble in his voice, "Dear Lord, help us all."

BAM! The big wave hit. Chester felt the ship list, and he checked his gauges. He quickly made peace with his maker when he saw that the _Nawman_ was listing at sixty-plus degrees! Strapped in his chair, on his way to being upside down, he detested the thought that his gut feeling had been right many weeks before. He thought of the box of letters he had left with Jeb. The radio went dead, and he was certain this was the end. The _Nawman's_ creaking, snapping, and low rumbling brought him to tears. He closed his eyes and whispered, "I love you Mom, Dad, Mike, Jeb, and especially you, Sue. I'll see you in Heaven." He braced himself for the worst.

The _Melvin R. Nawman_ rolled back upright.

Chester sat in awe. He screamed as he banged on the radio, but no sound returned. He felt he could do no good from his chair now, so he unbuckled his seat straps and jumped from his chair, his feet landing flat on the starboard bulkhead. From below deck aft he walked, stumbled, and crawled back and forth from the starboard bulkhead to the port bulkhead while the ship continued through the waves. Somehow he made it topside and into the pilot house. He grabbed Randall's leg for balance and pulled himself up.

"The mast! We've lost the main mast!" Randall shouted.

Chester now knew why the radio had gone dead. He peered through the driving rain as best he could and saw the enormous mast dangling over the side of the ship with cables still attached, making for a dangerous situation.

"Hang on!" the skipper shouted. BANG! The ship dropped again into a water-walled canyon, knocking Chester to his knees.

Purely from habit, the skipper grabbed the intercom mic. When he realized it would not work, he shouted at a couple of other sailors who had just stepped inside the door. "Go below and tell the maintenance crew to hustle their asses topside with acetylene torches...PRONTO!"

Chester and Randall, arm in arm and clinging to the cable railing, raced aft to help the maintenance men bring the torches up on deck. But the ship listed. Randall fell, his arm-lock slipping from Chester's. Chester screamed and tried to grab him, but his last sight was his friend sliding across the deck toward starboard. "Hang on, buddy!" Chester shouted. "Hang on!" He wanted to help, but he knew he dared not let go the wire rope or he would suffer the same fate. He never thought he would be faced with letting a friend meet such a death as that. The thought made him shudder, but he knew his duty was to save the most men he could, not just the one. Though he was torn up mentally and emotionally, he had no time to dwell on it as he helped the men emerging from below with their torches.

Chester returned to the pilot house and watched the maintenance men strap themselves securely to the deck. They used the torches to cut the mast off and let it sink. Chester was amazed at the skipper's remarkable composure and ability to think straight. If the captain had not called on the men and their torches when he did, the ship would have capsized at the next set of fifty-footers that came crashing over them within minutes of dropping the mast.

It was now 5:30PM, and the storm had been raging since 10:00AM. Chester and the men were tiring, even though their adrenaline was flowing. With the radio out, the crew was forced to use signal lights through the rest of the storm to communicate with other ships in their task group.

It took hours for the seas to calm, but finally by 3:00AM on December 19, 1944, the typhoon had passed. The wretched aftermath was hard for Chester to stomach. Even though he was glad to be alive, guilt plagued his soul over those who had lost their lives. As Chester did a ship sweep to aid in assessing the damage, he noticed that the life raft nets had been lost, among many other things. Still seemingly in shock, he returned to his petty officer's chair below deck and slowly took a seat. When he pulled the seat straps up from their hanging position he saw that one of the buckles had been ripped from the webbing and was nowhere to be found. _I wonder if I did that when I broke loose to go to the pilot house?_ He looked at the radar and saw his fingerprints on the handles. He wondered just how hard he had grasped those when he thought death was knocking at the door.

Chester felt a hand on his shoulder. "I told you I'd see you on the other side of that storm."

"Randall!" Chester leaped out of his chair and hugged his friend. "I thought you were a goner. I can't begin to tell you how glad I am to see you."

Randall hung his head, "Well, don't get too excited just yet." He looked at Chester.

"Why? What is it?" Chester felt his face go pale. "There's not another storm coming is there?"

Randall sighed, "No, there's not another storm coming." Chester saw a tear trickle down Randall's cheek. Randall nearly whispered, "We may have lost Tim and Steve."

Chester gasped. "What? No! Weren't they below deck?"

"Yeah. But I caught a glimpse of them as I slid across the deck. They were with the maintenance guys. I'm guessing they wanted to help too. Then I hit the railing and grabbed on. Steve and Tim must have slipped and fell right after me, because they banged into me as they slid past while I was hanging onto the starboard railing for dear life." He broke down and cried hard, then he continued, "It happened so fast I couldn't catch them, and...and I don't know what happened after that. The skipper said they were beat up pretty bad and were taken for medical help, but other than that..." Randall threw himself around Chester and sobbed. "Their desperate, fading cries for help were just about more than I could take." He pulled away from Chester, whose face looked as though he were in shock. Randall wiped his nose and said, "I really can't tell you how glad I am to see you sitting here."

Chester hugged Randall. "Whadda ya say we head to our soggy bunks and get some sleep while the gettin's good?"

Randall silently agreed, so off they went, passing the few crew members who were still left standing, sailing the _Nawman._

Before he closed his eyes Chester thought hard about writing a letter to the family to let them know he was alive and well. He knew the news would travel faster through the radio than his letter would to the States—if it would even be allowed to be sent—and the news would upset, scare, and worry everyone. But being so exhausted, the letter and its chance to make it home would have to wait until another day.

Chapter 12

~BACK HOME~

GOOD NEWS, BAD NEWS

Evening, December 21, 1944

It had been two weeks; still there had been no letter from Chester. I kept telling myself that he was trying to time it just right so we'd get a letter as close to Christmas Day as possible, just like he'd done at Thanksgiving.

I raced from the supper table to the front room and turned on the radio. The news intro played its sharp staccato tones. The first words out of the newscaster's mouth shocked me, as they were stern and loud. "It is with great sorrow I bring you the news this evening. A violent typhoon passed through a region of the Pacific. It has brought the worst loss and destruction since the hurricane at Apia, Samoa, in 1889. This announcement will delay our regularly scheduled program. More after this brief message."

"Turn it up boy!" Dad shouted.

I wasted no time.

"A typhoon?" Sue screamed.

"Quiet! We don't want to miss any of this." Dad meant business. We quieted down and nervously waited for the product ad to end. It seemed much longer than usual.

Finally, the stuttering tones came back on and faded. The newscaster's voice was still stern and at a high volume. "In the late morning of December 18 an angry typhoon ripped through a portion of the Pacific leaving a path of mayhem and devastation. Despite its size and strength, the storm gave very little warning that it was approaching.

"I am bringing you the information directly from the reports that are coming in regarding the wicked typhoon that has plowed through a portion of the Pacific where many of our ships and Navy men are currently serving. We now know that the fierce hurricane consisted of winds in excess of 130 miles per hour, and seas rose to fifty-plus feet in large areas.

"Several of the Pacific Fleet vessels, some of which had recently been engaged in raids against Japanese airfields, were caught in the raging storm. There were also many ships attempting to refuel at the time of the storm.

"So far we have received reports of the following Commands and ships that were affected by this tropical monster. That would include Task Force 38, seven fleet carriers, six light carriers, eight battleships, 15 cruisers, and about 50 destroyers. Numerous fires ignited on the carriers as planes broke loose from their moorings, the planes sustaining damage beyond any economical repair."

I heard the newscaster put his hand over the microphone. His voice became muffled. I heard his hand leave the microphone, and some papers rustled.

"This just in. Three destroyers have capsized and sunk. They were the USS _Hull,_ the USS _Spence,_ and the USS _Monaghan._ Almost all hands were lost. Seriously damaged were the CL _Miami_ , the CVLs _Monterey, Cowpens,_ and _San Jacinto,_ the CVEs _Cape Esperance_ and _Altamaha,_ and the DDs _Aylwin, Hickox_ , and _Dewey._ Many lives were lost." He paused.

His tone startled me when he continued. "Folks, this is a terrible thing, and we must all pray together for these brave men's souls and lives. Let us take a moment of silence before we continue this report."

I remember sitting as still as I ever had, realizing that we were all holding hands, very tightly. I felt a drop hit my arm, it was a tear from Mom. I am sure we were all wishing the newscaster would stop and not say anymore. Yet as horrific as the news was coming from the radio, we wanted to know more.

After several seconds of silence the newscaster continued, "And now for the staggering numbers report." I heard the newscaster's papers crinkle over the microphone. He cleared his throat and began, "There have been somewhere in the vicinity of seven hundred and ninety officers and men lost or killed. Eighty have been reported injured. The list of damaged ships is overwhelming. I will be reading the list of them after this brief message from our sponsor."

Again we sat motionless, eyes glued to the radio, waiting to hear the list. I remember saying another silent prayer and crossing my fingers that rested in Sue's hand.

The short introductory beeps played once more, and the newscaster returned, this time with a solemn voice. "Ladies and gentleman, before I continue, please be aware that our thoughts and prayers are with those of you who are about to hear the fleets and ship names, as I am now going to read the list of the Third Fleet: Second Carrier Task Force Pacific and the ships of that fleet which were involved in this typhoon.

"I will read slowly and clearly for all of you to hear. They are: the Task Groups 30.7, 38.1, 38.2, and 38.3. Task Units 38.1.3 and 38.2.2. Destroyer Squadrons 1, 52, and 61. Escort Division 72 (we all gasped at that name), Carrier Divisions 3, 4, and 1. Destroyer Squadron 53. And Battleship Division 7.

" _The ships in this fleet include the following, The USS Alabama, Altamaha, Anzio, Astoria, Aylwin, Baltimore, Benham, Biloxi, Boston, Buchanan, Cabot, Cache, Cape Esperance, Cowpens, Dewey, Donaldson, Dyson, Gatling, Hickox, Hilbert, Hull, Jicarilla, Independence, Iowa, and Kwajalein."_

The newscaster stopped to take a couple of sips of what I assumed was water. I held my breath, not wanting to hear Chester's ship's name, as he was sailing in that fleet. I clung to every bit of hope I could muster.

The newscaster returned, "Folks, if you are just joining us, we are announcing the list of ships that were affected in the ferocious typhoon that hit our Navy ships. Due to this announcement our regularly scheduled program has been delayed. Now back to the ships. The _Maddox, Massachusetts, Melvin R. Nawman..."_

Tears poured from my eyes, and I finally took a breath; I hadn't realized I'd not breathed for the last couple of minutes. Out of respect for the others, we all remained as composed as possible and listened to the rest of the ship names.

"... _Miami, Monaghan, Monterey, Nantahala, Nehnta Bay, New Orleans, Pasadena, San Diego, San Jacinto, Santa Fe, Spence, Swearer, Tabberer, Twining, Vincennes, Waterman, and the Wisconsin."_

I could tell the newscaster was now choked up, like us, after all of those names, when he closed out the program that evening. "Again folks, our thoughts and prayers are with those of you who have husbands, sons, brothers, uncles, cousins, and even fathers who are protecting this mighty country with their lives. And now, back to our regularly scheduled program."

I don't remember how long we sat together clenching hands, but I do remember it being quite some time. I didn't want to be the one to break up the group, but the box Chester had given me to hide and open only if something happened to him, was calling my name. Somehow I managed to hold tight to Mom's and Sue's hands without completely losing it.

Dad said, "That's enough for tonight. I'm going to bed." He let loose Mom's other hand and stood. He stared into space for a few seconds before he began to walk. Mom grabbed me with her free arm and sobbed louder than I had ever heard her sob. Mike burst into a frenzy, crying with gritted teeth and pulling his hair. He ran up the stairs, skipping every other one, and slammed his bedroom door. I heard him scream several times. Sue did not let go of my hand until Mom released me.

I slowly climbed the stairs. The task of having to bring out the hidden box and gather everyone back in the living room was daunting from all angles. I stopped mid step when it hit me, Hey, it's only been three days since the typhoon. No way is that enough time for Big Brother to have written a letter and gotten it sent off yet! He's OK, I just know it. It could take a month or more for a letter to get here now, especially with all of the holidays. I smiled and ran up the last few stairs.

Thursday, January 18, 1945

MY SECRET PRAYER WAS ANSWERED. We finally received our first letter from Chester since the typhoon. After choking back tears while reading aloud the details about losing some of the ships and 80% of their crew, Chester's next glorious words rang in my ears, like angels singing from Heaven, when I heard myself reading, _"But by the grace of God, the skill of our captain, and the efforts of many, I and my best friend Randall are still alive and well. In fact, our ship has earned the nickname 'Roly-Poly.'"_

That weekend I remember Dad telling us to put on our best clothes. He took us all out to celebrate Chester's good news. We braved the snow, sleet, and ice for the opportunity to feast like royalty at the fancy restaurant, King Cole, in Dayton, Ohio.

Chester sent another letter the next week stating that it would be the last one for a while, as they were in preparations for escort duty. He made it a point to let us know he was not allowed to write home about their position, nor could he disclose any details about the fighting. He asked us to pray for him and the crew each and every day. He told us that he loved us all and would write once his duty had been served.

I took that particular letter to my room, but instead of pinning it to the overflowing bulletin board, I kept it under my pillow; it stayed there for what ended up being the longest span of time in my life.

Chapter 13

~IWO JIMA~

HEAVEN AND HELL

Chester leaned against the railing of the ship next to Randall, sighed, and said, "I can't believe it's already February 7, AND 1945 to boot! And who knows how long it's gonna be before I can write home again. They sure are strict on letting letters go out describing the mess we're in, huh?"

Randall said, "Yeah, and rightfully so. No need to have the families worrying or spreading gossip. Ya know?"

Chester nodded.

Randall looked over the railing. "How can a fish fly that far? Those flying finned phenomena intrigue me. I wonder if their wings stink if you try to mail them back home?" He tossed Chester a smug grin.

Chester laughed. "Hmm, I wonder?" He laughed again, then looked over the railing at the flying fish. "They're pretty amazing, aren't they?"

"Yup. That they are." Randall looked toward the horizon. "And how about that sea of glass?" He elbowed Chester.

"It's a sight for sore eyes, I tell you. It's hard to believe we're at war when we just end up cruising for a day, and especially on this slick water." Chester had no more than said that when water gushed upward, disturbing the mirrored water's top about 75 feet off the port bow. Chester pointed and shouted, "Look! Whales! We don't get to see those from atop too often. But I do pick them up on my sonar, probably more often than I pick up submarines." Randall laughed with Chester, and both enjoyed the view of the gentle giants swimming along with the _Nawman._

Chester's tasks kept him busy until suppertime. He made his way through the mess line then took a seat across from Randall.

Randall said, "I'd like to say I enjoyed that meal, but I'd be lying!" He laughed.

"Yeah. I'd have to agree with you on that for sure." Chester cleaned off his tray and placed it in the appropriate spot. "I'm gonna head to the bow to check out the sunset while things are quiet. Want to join me?"

"Thanks, but no. I've got a couple things I need to do before lights out. I'll catch you in the morning."

"Sounds good to me." Chester said.

Randall nodded and headed toward the bunks.

Chester made his way to the bow. He watched some dolphins racing and leaping in the _Nawman's_ wake as the brilliant colors of the setting sun barely rippled from the horizon to the ship. He found himself getting homesick. Not being able to send any letters because of the ship's position and the crew's duties made him feel even farther apart from his family and Sue. The homesickness escalated when he thought about holding Sue in his arms to watch the wonderment before him. The gorgeous view made it difficult to force himself to think of something to look at that would be a little less emotional than the sunset, but he succeeded. He walked to the stern and watched the sharks feasting on the garbage dump from the mess hall.

February 16, 1945

The _Melvin R. Nawman_ had made it to Iwo Jima. Randall hollered at Chester to look out the porthole.

Chester blurted, "Dang! That must be the volcano they've been talking about. Mt. Suribachi."

"Yup! That's Hot Rocks all right. They say she's over 520 feet tall."

"Impressive, to say the least." Chester looked down and shouted, "Radar's showing we're only 25 miles west of the island. I don't know if I'm ready for this? How 'bout you?"

"Oh I'm ready all right. I've lived for this day! Any day I can be involved in killing off those lousy slant-eyed monsters, I'm all for it!"

Chester was uncomfortable with Randall's description of the enemy, but truth be known, after hearing so many of the reports before they arrived, Chester was starting to feel the same way about the foreign armies they were fighting. As the ship drew closer to the island, Chester said to Randall, "It's hard to imagine we were just watching whales on a calm sea, and now we're watching this."

A call came over the radio from the observation plane, letting the big ships know that their salvos and explosives were making direct hits; they were doing great. Chester looked at Randall when the sounds of the bombing began to escalate.

GQ sounded, "Red alert! Bettys have been reported in the area." Chester and Randall knew the kamikazes had to be close to the _Nawman_ because of all of the extra fire power that opened up immediately after the alert.

Chester walked to the porthole to see for himself, and what he saw shocked him. Rapidly the sky was filling with flack from all of the ships firing their big guns. Black smoke began to cover the water's surface, and not long after the fires ignited, the faint smell of gun powder seeped into the sonar room.

Randall squeezed his face next to Chester's to take a look. "Looks pretty bad out there, but we're winning, I just know it!" He stepped back, leaving Chester the full view once again.

"OH MY GOD!" Chester stood motionless, his face glued to the glass. "She's coming right at us. We're gonna die. We're really going to die. Right here. Today." He reached his hand out. Randall grabbed it and pushed his face back onto half of the glass. Chester could feel Randall shaking. They put their arms around each other and stood in awe. Chester barely squeaked out, "That Betty's too low. Our boys can't gun her down. She's too low. She's too low. OH MY GOD! SHE'S TOO DAMN LOW!" He could not close his eyes. He and Randall braced for the impact.

Chester inhaled what he thought would be his last breath and held it, his gaze never wavering. He watched the Betty until she was a few yards from the _Nawman,_ aimed directly at their porthole.

Then for no reason it made a sudden maneuver, cutting straight upward, missing the _Nawman_ by mere feet. Chester raced to the other side of the ship and peered through another porthole. He shouted, "Good Lord, Randall. That Betty just slammed nose-first into a carrier. It's the USS _Bismarck Sea!"_

Randall came running. He pushed Chester out of the way to take a look, then he turned to Chester and said, "With all of this smoke and powder smell, I think I just added another aroma," and went running to the head.

Chester returned to his sonar and put on his headphones. He said to himself, "This sounds like a gigantic Fourth of July celebration!"

The _Nawman_ was racing toward the _Bismarck Sea._

Randall returned and went immediately to the porthole. "Jesus, Chester. The _Bismarck Sea_ ...she's listing at least 45 degrees. I can see about fifty men in the water. Oh my God, there are others jumping...on purpose!" Randall ran to get on his radar.

Chester went to the porthole. "My God. Is there nothing we can do to save those poor men?"

"Get back on your radar. I can hear them coming!" Randall shouted.

Chester rushed to his chair at his radar.

"GQ! More incoming Bettys!" came the shout over the intercom.

Randall ran back to the porthole. "Goddamn! Chester! The _Bismarck Sea_ is sinking!"

Chester came running back to the window and yelled, "She's rolling over! Those men...they're being trapped beneath her deck! What in the Hell can we do?"

"Obey orders. You heard the call from the skipper, GQ! We need to get back to our radars. NOW!" They both took off running.

More Bettys growled over the _Nawman_ , dive-bombing the big ships that were left.

Chester and Randall watched from their stations. Betty after Betty was being shot out of the sky, and Chester caught himself smiling a little bigger with every explosion.

February 19, 1945

It was the third day of bombing, noise, and mayhem for those aboard the _Nawman_. In numb frustration Chester watched yet another carrier taking hits. He gritted his teeth and yelled, "Those dirty, rotten, crazed, kamikaze idiots!"

Randall sighed and said, "Yeah. Someday this Hell will be over, I hope. Right now this all seems like a bad dream. This is much worse than that cyclone we went through."

Chester felt his stomach turn at the thought of the typhoon. "All I can say is, between that and this, somebody up there is sure looking out for us, and I thank Him with all my heart."

Chester and Randall went up on deck when their relief sailors showed up. The sound of the big guns, still blasting the island with all they had, had been going on so long Chester found it to be merely a constant drone in his ears, but a new roar could now be heard. He shouted, "Look Randall! There goes the first wave of LSIs. And there's two more waves right behind them. Those Japs better watch out now. America is sending in the troops!"

"Why Chester, I believe that's the first time I've ever heard you call the enemy that. I believe this Navy's rubbing off on you."

"I wouldn't say it's the Navy; I'd say it's YOU rubbing off on me." They laughed and continued to watch the wave of LSIs making their way over Iwo Jima. "I sure hope the man upstairs is watching over those marines like He's been watching over us," Chester said.

Randall was quick to agree.

The LSIs reached 1000 yards off the beach with no opposition. But at 500 yards the Japanese opened fire with 20mm mortars. The _Nawman_ pulled back and cruised at a distance where Chester and Randall could no longer see the second and third waves hitting the beach. The vessel continued to patrol around and screen the fleet.

Chester and Randall returned to relieve the other sonarmen. Chester was first to put on the headset. He said, "Sounds like we've got something stuck in the propeller. I'm gonna call the skipper and let him know."

Randall gave him the thumbs up then said, "Roger that. I don't know how you heard that over all of the explosions. You really are a top-notch sonarman."

"Thanks, big guy. I appreciate the kind words."

A CALL CAME OVER THE radio that the _Nawman_ would be departing from the task group and heading back toward Iwo Jima, positioning themselves with Hot Rocks in sight, to have the repairs made from the shrapnel and such that had damaged the vessel. The _Nawman_ tied up alongside the repair ship _Adonis_ about 1000 yards offshore.

Chester told Randall to bring his binoculars and meet him on deck. Chester combed the island, but when his view through the binoculars reached the top of Mt. Suribachi, he shouted to all who could hear, "Look! On the top of Hot Rocks. It's five or six of OUR guys! And they're raising the American flag!"

When the sights of the flag being raised and the marines celebrating their victory reached Randall's eyes, he leaned over to Chester and said softly, "You know, that actually gave me goose bumps. Maybe this damn war is getting closer to being over than we thought."

Chester agreed.

"SOUNDS LIKE THE REPAIRS TO the props are done," Chester said. "And guessing from the motion of ol' Roly-Poly, it looks like we're heading back out to the task group." He calmly swallowed his last bit of scrambled eggs.

Upon re-joining their task group, Chester made his way up on deck once again. He heard a low rumble, looked up, and said to Randall, "That's one, two, three, four... Holy cow! That's nine of those big B-29's headed north-northwest." He shot a sheepish grin at Randall and continued, "I wonder where they're going?"

"Yeah, me too." Randall's sarcasm matched that of Chester's, and that was just what Chester had been hoping for.

"Let's go below and get back on the sonar." Chester led the way. The sounds of the _Nawman's_ big guns joined the others in shelling the enemy. The reports were bringing bittersweet news. Though the US was gaining ground, the positions where the Japanese were launching their mortars were presenting stiff opposition and producing numerous casualties.

At 7:00PM Chester stood on deck with several others. He heard the sound of the B-29s returning from their raids. Looking up and thinking out loud as they flew over, he said, "I sure am glad I wasn't on the receiving end of that bunch." He heard the others laughing around him. He blushed. Looking out at the island he pointed and said, "But you know, it's weird; even with the war going full blast over that way..." then he pointed the opposite direction, "...that ocean out there still seems so peaceful and beautiful this evening. I mean look at those gentle waves and the sunset sparkling off of them. This really is Heaven and Hell."

Chester went to his bunk where he pulled out a pad of paper and pencil. "I'm at least gonna write home and tell them I'm OK. Certainly the Navy'll send a letter like that," he said to himself.

Chapter 14

~BACK HOME~

HE'S ALIVE...I HOPE

So far the winter hadn't been kind. January had been bad enough, but the second half of February had made walking to school and back a project rather than just an annoyance. It was already the beginning of March, and winter had not let up. Where was spring? Donning the extra-needed clothing every morning and afternoon had become tiresome, let alone getting home and having to shovel the driveway for Mom since Mike wouldn't do it.

Mike was gone for longer and longer periods of time these days. He was hanging with the wrong crowd, in my opinion. I worried about him a lot, but I never said anything to Mom about it; I didn't want her to worry. I certainly didn't want to see any harm come to Mike, but Chester being in the Navy was enough for Mom to handle. I really wanted to say something to Mike but didn't feel it was my place to be butting in, being the younger brother and all. But no matter what I thought Mike was up to, I always knew he was my brother, and I'd always love him just the same.

The snow and ice had piled high from the plows, nearly covering the mailbox. I cringed at the sleet and snow pelting my face in the stiff wind and felt the sting of the melted snow chapping my wrists underneath the wristband of my soggy, half-frozen mittens. Glad to be home, I leaned over the stiff hump of icy brown snow and jerked on the cold metal mailbox door. "Darn it!" I sighed. Then in a fit of rage I beat the ice off the rim of the mailbox door with my mitten-covered fist, stabbing pain shooting through my cold fingers with each pound. When a bunch of the ice had dropped off I jerked again, and the remaining ice around the door snapped; it crackled open. I reached in and pulled out the mail, fumbling through every piece in detail with my mitten-laden hands, hoping to find a letter from Chester. It had been so long.

My breath rolled white in the frosty air as I spoke, "Nothing. He's probably forgotten about all of us back here in Ohio. I can't blame him. If I were on a ship in the Pacific I'd forget this frozen place too." I yelled into the mailbox's empty inside as if the fault lay with it for not delivering us a letter from Chester.

I shoved my snow-caked mitten under the mailbox door and slammed it shut. I stopped dead for a moment, giving my brain time enough to convince me that I might have seen something else inside. I jerked the door back open and squinted, peering deeply into the dingy box. "What's that?" I barely made out a letter stuck to the back wall.

I pulled myself higher onto the bank of ugly winter, ripped my mitten from my hand, and reached in. With my fingers steaming in the cold, I pulled the frozen letter off the back wall. I turned it over and noticed that the ink had smeared considerably in many places, and the front of the envelope had started to tear. But there was enough evidence to know who it was from. "Chester," I whispered. I deciphered the postmark and realized it had been hiding in there for several days.

Forgetting my mitten perched on the eyesore of an iceberg, I went tearing to the house. "Mom! Mom! We got a letter from Chester!" I wasn't sure if Mom had heard me, but there was no doubt the neighbors had. I burst through the door, nearly hitting Mom in the face. Apparently she _had_ heard me shouting and came to the mudroom door to see what the commotion was.

I held the mussed-up letter inches from her face. "We got a letter from Chester!"

Mom gently pushed my hands down and adjusted her glasses. "I see that." She took it from me, and I saw tears start to well. Even in its tattered shape, Mom held the letter to her nose and inhaled. "My boy. He's alive." She turned it over and inhaled again.

"I hope that doesn't smell like fish wings." I smiled at Mom, and she laughed.

"No, it doesn't. Actually it smells like the mailbox, but I can dream of smelling his aftershave, can't I?" We both chuckled at that. Mom continued, "I'll call Sue and invite her to supper, then we can all read it together. Sound good?"

"Sounds swell."

I went upstairs to my room and took a look at the bulletin board. I rearranged Chester's previous letters to make room for this one to go right in the center of all of them. Only for a brief moment did the thought cross my mind that he'd be writing from a hospital to tell us he was badly hurt and lying in a medical unit bed somewhere in some foreign country. But as quickly as the thought had come, I tossed it to the wind and kept my focus on Chester being alive and well.

Dad got home, and I heard Mom telling him we'd received Chester's letter. I heard Dad through the floor vent when he said, "Thank God. I was beginning to worry about that kid, believe it or not." That made me smile.

"Supper!" Mom shouted, and I went sliding down the banister. I ran through the front room but slowed my pace to a walk before she and Dad could see me.

Dad's voice was low and gruff. "I guess Mike isn't going to join us yet again?"

"I guess not," Mom said. "But I always set a place for him just in case." She smiled and winked at Dad.

Dad huffed. "What's he up to now-a-days?"

I froze. I didn't want to be the one to break any kind of unwanted news about the company he kept. Luckily, Mom answered. "I suppose he's busy with basketball practice, and he tells me that the guys 'hit up' the malt shop a lot of times afterwards."

Relieved, I now knew that Mom was aware of who he was hanging with, and it was strange because it didn't seem to bother her. I have to say, it made staying quiet about the situation a bit easier for me.

Dad grunted, "Wasting all of his hard-earned allowance on ice cream. That boy has no sense of responsibility."

I thought, _I hope he's wasting it on ice cream and not on other stuff that could be much worse._ I'd seen Mike's "friends" in action in the distance, but I'd kept my mouth shut.

The mudroom door flung open. "Mike!" I shouted.

"Hey, everybody. Thought I'd come home for supper tonight." He walked over and hugged Mom.

Dad glared at him. "What? Did the malt shop run out of your flavor?"

Mom punched Dad on the arm and said, "Oh Dad, don't be so rude. Mike hasn't been home for a few nights for supper, and tonight he is. AND he couldn't have chosen a better night." She looked at Mike and smiled. Then she looked at me, "Tell him, Jeb."

Proudly I held up the envelope. "We finally got a letter from Chester!"

Mike's eyes widened. "Then, that means he's OK. Right?"

Right!" I blurted.

"Well now, we don't know that for sure," Sue added with a tremble in her voice.

"Whadda ya mean? Of course he's all right, and don't think otherwise. You could jinx him." Scowling at her I put the letter back under my placemat.

Dad said grace, then we dug into some of the best chili and grilled cheese sandwiches I ever tasted.

When supper was over we went into the front room for the big deal. Dad made us wait a bit longer, as he wanted to hear about the war first. The news was glum to say the least, but I kept my spirits high, hoping Chester's news would be good.

The radio announcer reported that the US was still bombing in and around Tokyo, Japan, and that the marines were still advancing with success on Iwo Jima despite the intense artillery, rocket, and bazooka fire from the enemy. He mentioned areas being trenched with pill boxes, block houses, and fortified caves. The announcer's voice was stern, but somehow it seemed reassuring that our guys were winning. As scary as it sounded when the reporter said the Navy boys were mopping up the dead and giving medical attention to those in need from Iwo, I still refused to believe that Big Brother was one of the dead, or even in on those duties. I chose to believe that his ship had been sent elsewhere to serve.

The reporter went on with his broadcast describing the Japanese maze of underground, interlocking trenches and tunnels. He brought the broadcast to a close with the words, "Even though our boys have taken over half of the island of Iwo Jima, and our aircraft can now land and take off from that island, the Japanese are still fighting savagely. But the word is that it should not be too much longer before Japan surrenders. Keep your hopes up, folks, and keep saying those prayers for our fine troops and their families."

I swallowed hard as I tore open the envelope. I hadn't had the chance for a while, so I made sure to toss the empty envelope to Mike. I unfolded the letter and began to read aloud. "Dear Mom, Dad, Sue, Mike, and Jeb, I want to say up front that I am alive and well as of this letter and plan on staying that way! It's different out here for sure. Lots of noise in the background, but the best part of it all is the sunsets. They are something else to see from the ship. I've watched dolphins play in the wake, and I've even seen whales spouting off now and then."

I went on to read about all of the good things that had been taking place, including the sights, the sounds, and even the food they were being served. He made it sound as though we had nothing to worry about. I could tell both Mom and Sue were relieved. Dad and Mike stayed strong and tough, but I knew that underneath both of them were struggling with staying positive about Big Brother' situation.

We all talked and laughed together for another hour or so, then Sue made her way home, and that was my cue to head for bed. Mike didn't race me up the stairs anymore; I guess he'd outgrown that fun. But that was OK. I knew someday I'd grow up too, but it wouldn't be tonight.

I put on my pajamas, brushed my teeth, and hit the bed making sure I gave extra thanks to God for keeping Chester safe. It was an understatement to say that I couldn't wait until he got to come home. I wasn't able to go to sleep right away, so I pulled out some paper and a pencil and, with a smile on my face, began to write another letter to Chester. I felt bad that it had been so long since my last one.

Chapter 15

~BACK AT SEA~

CRITTERS, SHARKS, MEASLES, AND THREE SHEETS TO THE WIND

March 6, 1945

The early news of the day was that the marine assault was about to begin on what was left of the original Japanese garrison of 20,000 men. By early evening reports were delivered stating there were 14,456 Japanese dead or missing, and the remaining were crammed into the northeast end of Iwo Jima. Predictions were that approximately 2000-3000 effective enemy troops had left after today's fighting. The Japanese were reported as resorting to hand-to-hand combat with the US marines.

The sounds of planes making their runs and dropping all of their bombs had become commonplace. At the end of Chester's shift on March 8 he rubbed his sleepy eyes as he sat on the edge of his sonar chair. His ears perked up when the announcement came through that the _Nawman's_ orders were changing from the day before. The ship had originally been ordered to pull away from task group 52.2 and rejoin task group 50.7.1 en route to Ulithi's Carolina Islands. Now the _Nawman,_ joined by the USS _Steamer Bay_ CVE-87, USS _Helm_ DD-388, and the USS _Edmonds_ DE-406, would be escorting a fleet consisting of two carriers, two DDs, and six DEs on their way to Leyte in the Philippines.

Chester thought, _Thank God we're leaving Iwo. This has been a rough and bloody place. I'll sure be glad to get out of here for a while._ He stood and walked to the porthole. The rising smoke above the chaos on Iwo Jima met his eyes, and he mumbled in sarcastic hatred, "It's hard to believe those lousy pillbox dwellers are coming after our marines in hand-to-hand. I almost wish I could see that fiasco up close; a US marine against a slant-eye in hand-to-hand?" His laughter fogged the porthole for a brief second. "Why don't those Jap knuckleheads just surrender? I'm sure we've won this one." He glared, silently cheering for the marines, then spoke directly to Iwo, "Goodbye and good riddance!" He slapped the porthole with both hands.

He turned and bumped into Randall, who said, "You do realize the enemy would rather commit suicide than ever surrender to us, don't you?"

Quick on the spot Chester said, "Yeah, but I'd rather be an American in this war than a Jap!" He punched Randall in the arm.

"I guess you have a point there."

Both laughed.

Chester slightly lost his balance when the _Nawman_ bumped into its carrier, the USS _Anzio,_ for refueling. During the process the sailors of both ships exchanged movies, and Chester could not wait until the first showing in the mess hall that evening. After the duties were complete the announcement came that the fleet had now been designated as task group 51.2.1 and was ready to sail.

March 10, 1945

SPECIAL NEWS CAME TO THE sailors on the _Nawman_ and their surrounding vessels. Word rang over the intercom that the US boys had fought hard and gained 200 yards that the Japanese did not want to give up. The enemy had come at us with an all-out attack but were severely defeated. The entire island of Iwo Jima would belong to the US after mopping operations were completed! Chester grinned with pride as he watched his sonar screen.

The next couple of days were filled with routine duties. Chester could not have been more relieved with the humdrum he had once cursed. He had his eyes on the radar when it picked up land 53 miles out. By 10:00AM the _Nawman_ was anchored off Leyte in the Surigao Straits.

While sailing alongside the USS _Leonis,_ Chester was assigned to work detail. He boarded the impressive ship and gathered the requested store supplies. Walking near the bow of the ship on his way back to the _Nawman,_ he noticed a school of sharks. Thinking no one was around he said, "I can't wait to get back and tell Randall that I just saw a school of tiger sharks."

Chester jumped when a sailor behind him said, "A shark is a shark, I don't give a damn what kind it is." He pushed Chester aside and took a look. "Yup. I'm sure they bite just as hard as the rest of those disgusting beasts."

Chester suppressed his laughter when he saw the man's military stripes. "You're absolutely correct, Sir." He nodded and made his way back onto the _Nawman._ He dropped off the supplies at the designated spot and headed to tell Randall about the sharks, along with the top brass that had been so lily-livered about them.

"Randall!" Chester shouted as he entered the bunkroom. Randall was not there, so Chester dashed below deck to the sonar room. "Randall!" Chester stopped in his tracks. "Where's Randall?"

Randall's replacement sonarman replied, "He came down with something. Looked like the measles to me. They came and took him to Sick Bay."

Chester was off like a shot. He reached Sick Bay and was met by another sailor. "Whoa, slow down. You don't want to go in there, do you?"

Chester frowned. "Of course I do, or I wouldn't have come running. Where's Randall?"

"Randall's in there, but I'm telling you, you don't want to go in."

Chester, being one rank higher, ordered the sailor to step aside. He entered Sick Bay and saw a few sailors moaning and groaning. "Randall," he whispered. He ran to the bedside, and a nurse approached. "What's wrong with him?" Chester blurted. "He looks terrible."

"Gee thanks, pal. You're making me feel better already."

The nurse said, "At first we thought it was the measles, but lucky for him he has had an allergic reaction to something. It will only be a couple of days, and he'll be out of here."

Chester looked at Randall and shook his head. "What did you get into now? I leave you alone for a little while and, well, look at you!" He smiled, and Randall forced a laugh. "You'll never guess what I saw from the bow of the _Leonis_."

"A ticket out of here?"

Chester laughed out loud at his best friend's humor. "No, nothing that good, but it was good. I saw a school of tiger sharks. They were really something to see." Chester leaned down and whispered in Randall's ear, "And a top brass was all squeamish over them. It took all I had not to laugh, but I knew I didn't dare; that is, unless I wanted to be force fed whatever you ate!"

The next couple of days seemed to pass quickly for Chester, even without Randall. The movies helped, as well as the view of the sunrises and sunsets from the ship. But the event that made it go by the fastest was the liberty party on Samara Island.

The ship docked, and Chester joined the sailors on deck for the briefing before going ashore. All he really got out of it was that cigarettes would buy a lot on the island.

When their feet hit the dirt Chester and a few other sailors ventured off to find a good eating place. "Now THAT looks like a good greasy spoon. Whadda you think guys?" Chester headed toward the off-kilter opening. He looked back, and his buddies were still trying to decide. "C'mon!" Chester motioned. He could tell that all of them were reluctant about his choice. "Seriously, it can't be any scarier than that typhoon!" He watched them shrug and make their way toward him.

Chester pushed a gauzy, moth-eaten, curtain to the side, and they made their entrance. Chester looked around and said, "I have to admit, I wouldn't stay if I didn't see some of our other Navy boys in here."

He and the others timidly made their way to the bar and sat down next to a couple of other sailors. The sight of the bartender made Chester uneasy; it was a woman, and her massive size and gritty appearance were not what he was used to back home. She approached Chester and pinched his cheek. "What I get you, fancy sairor?" She must have seen by his expression that he felt uneasy at her touch, because she let go his cheek. "You no have to be scared. I Mama-san. Everybody in here know me by that name. You can car me Mama-san, too. You got pretty brue eyes. I rike."

Chester took a deep breath and nearly gagged, but he managed to get a few words out. Not wanting to look like the first-timer he was, he leaned toward her, his buddies doing the same, and said, "What can a guy get for a pack of Lucky Strikes?"

"Oh, no for one pack. For two pack Rucky Strike, Mama-san get you big steak, vegetaber, and Baijiu."

Chester hesitated. "Hmmm. What if we have Camels?" He watched her face light up.

"Oh, two pack Camer get you extra Baijiu." She leaned over the bar, her face almost touching Chester's. "And four pack Camer get you bed partner for night." She winked.

Chester and the guys all leaned back. Chester looked around the bar at the ladies dotted here and there. Each time he made eye contact with one she would smile and wave then curl her finger in, calling to him to come to her. Even if he had not been engaged to Sue, he did not think he would go for such. He preferred women with clean hair and all of their teeth!

He looked at the other sailors who were with him. Once he saw their faces, he looked back at Mama-san and said, "I think we'll all be content with the two Camel pack special."

Mama-san busted a belly laugh that embarrassed Chester and the guys. She said loudly, "These sairor boy no rike the hanky panky!"

The bar crowd roared with laughter.

One of Chester's fellow sailors stood up with fire in his eyes, ready to fight. Chester held him back and said loudly to Mama-san, "It's not that we don't like it, it's just that these cigarettes are hard to come by, and we want to keep as many in our pockets as we can. But we _are_ hungry, and I'll bet you make the best steak and vegetables around." He winked at Mama-san, who tilted her head and cut her eyes toward him.

"You seem rike nice ferrow. For you I do two-pack Camer speciar, no question ask."

"Thank you." Chester smiled warmly at her, then turned and told his sailor buddies not to start any trouble.

Chester and the sailors devoured their meals, a few of them even picking up their plates and licking them clean. At first Chester would have sworn it really was the best meal of mouth-watering steak and vegetables he had ever eaten, but the thought that it might be something other than beef did cross his mind. He wondered, _Does the ship's food really taste that bad, or did the steak really taste that good?_

SOUSED BEYOND COMPREHENSION, CHESTER AND the other sailors made their way back to the ship later that night. Mama-san had proven to be quite the hostess with her jokes and fantastic food. But the next morning came early. Chester's eyes appeared a little more bloodshot than if he had merely lost sleep. Since reporting to duty that morning, he had kept a continual supply of coffee in his cup, and he thanked his lucky stars that he knew the cook well enough to talk him into not watering it down.

He choked when he heard a voice behind him say, "So, how was last night?"

Chester almost fell off of his chair. He whipped around and saw Randall standing at his sonar station. Chester wiped his eyes and stood, but he felt his legs go wobbly.

Randall laughed and said, "Wow! By the looks of things, I'd say last night was better than most! I want to hear all about it."

Chester waved his hands as he slurred his words, "Oh, come on. I can't tell you down here. It'll have to wait." He straightened his sailor's attire, took a big swig of the thick coffee, stood straighter, and slapped himself on the cheeks. Then he pointed at Randall and slurred, "And by the way, since you've been in Sick Bay, you may not know that it's March 21st, and we are under way to take part in another invasion." He clapped his hands and shouted, "Boom!"

Randall folded his arms. "Is that right?"

Chester tried to point again and said, "Yup! That's right." His glassy eyes rolled back, and Randall reached out in time to catch his falling friend as Chester passed out cold.

Chapter 16

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

March 22, 1945

Chester jolted awake when an explosion shook the walls. He had vividly been watching Randall make a special trip to Ohio to tell the family that Big Brother had lost his life in an explosion. He helplessly witnessed their reactions to the harsh news as it sent his mom to her knees and Jeb running and screaming uncontrollably through the house.

Abruptly opening his eyes, he realized he'd been experiencing a nightmare. He shook his head to clear the horrific vision and wiped the sweat from his brow as he thought, Wow, that was too real. I've gotta get a letter ready to send back home and let them know I'm OK. I'll bet poor Jeb's on the edge of his school desk seat every weekday, waiting for the bell to ring so he can get home and check the mailbox. I don't want to keep scaring him by making him wonder every minute of every day, especially when I can do something about it. But it'll have to wait for now. He headed to the radio room to man his station.

A GQ firing drill had been the culprit that caused the explosion when a stray shell slammed into DE-417. The report came through that there had been eight casualties and one seriously injured.

When things settled down Chester was relieved of duty for a few hours. He returned to his bunk and pulled out his pad and paper and wrote a short letter so the family would know that he was doing fine. Even though Chester knew where the _Nawman_ was sailing and what lay ahead, he did not have the liberty to write home about it.

In the letter he encouraged his family to stop listening to the radio reports every night after dinner; he knew the reports were general information and not specific, and in the very near future those generalized reports would keep the family wondering and worrying about him. In reality, he knew Dad would not take his advice. But he also knew that if he did not get back to writing once a week, his family back home would become extremely nervous after hearing the reports. He was afraid they would jump to conclusions if they heard anything about what he was pretty sure was going to happen.

He let them know that he would be writing every week for a while. He also apologized for the possible time delay of his upcoming letters. Chester actually had no idea how fast the letters would be getting out over the next several weeks. He closed the letter with the news that he had sealed the envelope with two kisses: one for Mom and one for Sue.

CHESTER'S GUTS TIED IN A knot when the orders came to change course due to bad weather. His memories of the last typhoon were still too fresh. But the _Nawman_ sailed gracefully out of harm's way, and Chester could not have been happier.

He and Randall had been on different shifts for a few days. One of the other sonarmen had to go to Sick Bay, and Chester had been assigned that guy's hours.

But today, everybody was back on the regular duty roster. When Chester reported to his station, he and Randall body-slammed in a manly hug. Chester said, "Man, is it ever good to be back on duty with you."

"I think I'm more thrilled than you!" Randall pushed Chester away in excitement, slapped his hands together, smiled big, and said, "It's been so long, I thought maybe you'd been transferred to another ship."

"Nope," Chester assured his friend.

"Thank goodness. It's great to have you back." Randall sounded both relieved and sincere.

Chester smiled and said, "It's great to BE back."

Later that evening, Chester finished his shift and grabbed some food. Before leaving the table he said, "I'll see you in the morning Randall. I'm heading to take a shower."

"Sounds good. You need to wash that stink off. The whole ship's beginning to smell!" Chester swung to punch Randall, but Randall moved just in time to cause a miss.

A GQ came in the middle of Chester's shower, so he went running to his station. "Can't a guy catch a break around here?" he asked Randall when he made it to his screen.

Randall busted out laughing. "Looks like they caught you with your pants down, buddy!" He laughed even louder at the sight of his soggy friend standing there in dripping skivvies.

Chester said, "Yeah, I guess they did." He reached down, wrung some water out of the right leg, and chuckled.

Randall shook his head.

Chester quickly went from laughing to locking his full attention on his sonar screen. He knew when it was time to laugh and when it was time to get down to business, and he was glad Randall knew the same. They had talked early on about how their crew mates' very lives depended on their ability to spot the enemy. Chester knew the two of them would serve such a duty no matter what time of day or night. And now Chester had silently added _...and no matter how we're dressed_.

But even after talking so much about it the past few weeks, Chester found it sobering today that, as he listened to the big guns firing, he and Randall were the ones responsible at the moment for keeping the _Nawman_ and the fleet safe from the bottom up. He felt he would never be able to describe the stress and tension he experienced at that screen when the heat was on. For that matter, he wondered why he would even want to remember.

March 26, 1945

THE USS NAWMAN DEPARTED FROM the Transport Group and was now in Task Group 52.1.1., along with an additional carrier group consisting of 15 carriers and numerous DEs and DDs. When the _Nawman_ was approximately 25 miles from Okinawa, it left its current carrier group and rejoined its original carrier and sister ships for night anti-submarine patrol duty between Okinawa and Formosa.

Chester stretched, trying to keep himself awake, and he could tell from their conversation that Randall was feeling the stress of the long hours as well. Sailing past midnight and on into the early morning of March 27, Chester sat in a daze.

Randall asked, "What are you thinking so hard about?"

Chester hardly budged. He sighed and said, "I wonder how many of our fellow American fighters we'll lose on this invasion at Okinawa? I mean...oh, I don't know what I mean. I know we lost over 6800 and had somewhere around 17,000 wounded on Iwo Jima. And Okinawa is much bigger." He turned and looked straight at Randall. "I'm praying that regardless the size, our losses will be much less." He hung his head.

Randall said, "Only God knows for sure."

"You're right, and only God knows when this will end." Chester lifted his head and stared at Randall for a moment before he continued. "The marines who captured several islands around Okinawa reported they found 12 Japanese women and a child—a child—strangled to death in one of the caves." Chester shook his head. "I don't understand. Women and children? Strangled?"

Randall shook his head and said, "It's nothing I can comprehend. And the worst part of that is, who knows how many more caves are full of the same horrific sights?"

Chester had no answer. He asked Randall, "Have you heard anything about the pilot that crashed near a Japanese island close to here and then swam ashore and hid in a cave? What if they find him? What'll they do to him?"

Randall perked up. "We got him. We rescued him."

"We did?"

"Yup!"

"How did they ever know where to find him?"

"I have no idea how they knew where he was. I _do_ know that after he'd been missing for three days, a group of sailors from one of our DDs volunteered to go ashore, undercover, at night. And sure as shootin' they rescued him."

Chester broke a smile. "Thank goodness for gutsy sons of bitches like them. It's nice to know they're on our side." Chester winked at Randall.

"I'll say." Randall glanced down at his sonar.

"How about those six Jap PT boats that tried to destroy one of our DDs?" Chester waited for Randall to stop laughing. "I know. It's humorous to think they thought they were just so tough. I wonder how they felt when our boys wiped out two of them?"

Randall said, "It's obvious how they felt! Two more of the six turned tail and ran, and the other two just...disappeared."

Chester laughed, as did Randall. Chester knew they both needed a tension reliever. He tried to ignore the sound of the constant bombing in the distance. He looked back at his screen, wishing it were over.

The reports began coming through once again. Chester made his way to the machine and tore off the news. As he read through it he felt his face go pale. He walked to Randall and said, "Hey, look here. It's now believed the Japs are launching floating mines off the west coast of Okinawa. That's gonna put us back on anti-sub patrol with the carrier _Anzio_ and our sister ships for the night."

Randall hesitated, then he read the news report for himself and responded nonchalantly, "Yay. Whoopee."

Patrol lasted for a few days; luckily Chester did not have to be on the radar that entire time. On the evening of March 31, he got word that the USS _Morsen_ DD-506 had dropped depth charges on an enemy sub. When the sub surfaced the DD opened fire with 5-inch and 40mm guns until it sank. Chester took the news straight to Randall, who responded, "Looks like we're starting off this invasion on the right foot. And it technically doesn't even start until tomorrow!"

Randall's optimism was contagious. Chester blurted, "I know. And the USS _Stockton_ DD-646 also sank a midget sub while screening a group of tankers!" They both punched each other in the arm. "Let's go up top and take a look before we have to be back on the screens tonight."

"I'm right behind you."

Chester's heart sank when he saw the beautiful sunset. He longed to be back home with Sue. He just wanted to feel her lips against his and hold her in his arms. But as gorgeous as the sunset was and his thoughts sweet, he looked across the water, sighed, and said, "That sunset is surely a beauty, but this war is certainly a beast."

Randall nodded in agreement.

Chester leaned against the railing, facing Okinawa, and continued, "Tomorrow is L-Day. I feel for those land troops having to invade in the morning. If this war has done anything, it's made men out of us boys in a hurry." He looked through his binoculars. "Man, you can see the ships stretched out to the far horizon." He slowly combed the fleets. "There's transports, LSTs, LCIs, tankers...everything we've got. Take a look." He handed the binoculars to Randall.

Randall combed the horizon. "Wow. I say all HELL is gonna break loose tomorrow."

Chester took the binoculars from Randall, took another look, and said. "That's what I'm afraid of."

Chapter 17

GOOD MORNING TROOPS - IT'S L-DAY!

Very early morning, April 1, 1945

Chester found himself to be a mix of emotions. Lying in his bunk after only two hours of sleep, he had awakened to the same sounds, only louder, that he had gone to sleep by. He thought, How can anyone even think this is right? Bombing on Easter Sunday! And come to think of it, it's April Fools' Day. I'll bet Jeb's up to his old antics of trying to play jokes on Mike. I wish I were there to help him. And I can just see Mom getting those two and Dad ready to go to church; that's been a fiasco as long as I can remember. Chester smiled big and thought, But it's for Mom, so how could we say no.

He rolled out of bed, and more thoughts bombarded his head. _On the other hand, those Japs are getting the worst April Fools' Day prank pulled on them in history._ He felt guilty for chuckling at that thought, but only for a moment, as he instantly remembered what their soldiers had done to our troops.

Chester met Randall in the sonar room at 6:00AM sharp to relieve the other guys on duty. At 8:30AM, just as Randall had predicted and Chester had feared, all Hell broke loose. The US ships had only been giving the enemy a warmup, little to their knowledge, for several days. But presently there was not a ship in the bay that was not giving it all she had. The invasion had begun.

Reports came through more often than usual. Chester dashed to grab a report. He read it and shouted to Randall, "The troops have landed on the beach at Point Bolo and south along the coast." He silently read some more then blurted, "Get this! We faked a landing on the east coast last night. The Japs had PT boats lining the west coast where we landed, but our rocket fire took care of them. We advanced another one-and-a-half miles on the west side. Marching on, our guys then discovered places along the east coast that had been evacuated. We landed on those beaches with very little opposition! Hooray!"

The intense fighting continued for hours. By 12:00 noon the US armed forces had captured an airfield southeast of Point Bolo. By 3:00PM the troops had captured several small towns. Supply ships were being landed for the US troops, but they ran into tough times on the beach, as the tide had gone out, leaving many reefs and large rocks exposed; avoiding them was quite a challenge.

The obliteration continued into the night. At 1:00AM on April 2 the USS _Nawman's_ task group received an order. Chester reported to Randall, shouting over the extreme battle noise, "We've been re-assigned to a special mission. We're going to be escorting the carrier _Kerama Retto_ for ammunition and supplies. We're headed to the islands where our supply tanker and ammunition transports are. You know, the temporary Navy anchorage."

Randall nodded then said, "It's hard to believe we're in Japanese waters only 250 miles out from Japan."

"I agree!"

A GQ resounded.

"Holy shit!" Chester covered his ears when several of the larger ships nearby opened fire with their biggest barrels. He ran to the porthole. "Randall! It's a damn kamikaze, and it's dive-bombing right at our carrier!"

KABOOM!

"Dammit!" Randall shouted.

Chester watched the event unfold before his eyes. Another explosion boomed and shook the walls of the _Nawman._ Chester jerked back from the porthole and hollered, "Whoopee! That lousy coward just took a direct hit and dropped about 50 feet in front of an LST that's sitting about 1000 yards off our starboard quarter!" He raced to his sonar screen.

Randall shouted, "Who hit him?"

"It's hard to tell with all of that fire power out there."

The GQ was secured, and Chester and Randall were all eyes on their screens. With all of the pounding, the ringing, and sheer fear, Chester found himself having to fight for every ounce of strength he had to stay sane.

By 10:00AM the USS _Nawman_ was alongside the USS _Brazos_ AO-4 to refuel. By 4:30PM the _Nawman_ was underway, returning to sea duty.

Chester and Randall put in their earplugs and headed up on deck for a quick break. Something caught Chester's eye, and he leaned over the railing. He shouted to Randall standing next to him, "Did you see our chief signalman trying to catch that pigeon flying in and landing on our secured motor whale-boat?"

"No." Randall leaned over the railing with Chester and hollered to the signalman. "Did you get him?"

Before the signalman answered, he pointed across the burning water and yelled, "There's a ship on fire, and it's exploding!"

Another red-flash GQ sounded. In seconds the roaring of four enemy planes cluttered the sparse, quiet spaces in the sky and were flying high, heading right for the USS _Nawman's_ stern.

KABOOM! KABOOM! KABOOM!

Chester and Randall were knocked off balance. Chester watched the scene unfold, then he and Randall took off running back down below. "Break's over!" Randall shouted.

Chester did not return a reply; he hollered, "I can't believe the power behind those five-inchers and 40-millimeters on deck, and to think our DEs are the smallest ones in the fleet. Can you imagine the sound on a full-blown battleship?"

Randall added, "That IS something to think about. Did you see the plane go into a small dive trying to keep from being hit?"

"Yeah. Did you see him pull out and head into the clouds?"

"Sure did! And our guns were sure putting out the ammo!"

Chester saw something on the radar. "Randall! We've got two bandits on our port bow!" The gunfire from the enemy plane rang in Chester's ears. He ran to the porthole. "Holy shit! They're headed toward the DE-417. They're gonna dive-bomb her!"

Randall came running and looked out of the next porthole. "I can't believe it. They're pulling up and heading into the clouds, just like the others did. I can't imagine them getting away without a few holes in their sides."

"LOOK!" Chester shouted. Together he and Randall watched as three planes came crashing into the sea of fire.

"That ship the signalman saw, it's a transport ship, the USS _Henrico_ APA-45."

Chester brought up the binoculars from his chest, looked out the porthole, and said, "And it looks like they're making preparations to tow her in. Probably to the Kerama Islands for repairs. I sure hope we didn't lose anybody."

More enemy plane noise growled, and drowning out the sound was that of the _Nawman's_ big guns. Chester and Randall continued to watch the event unfold through their portholes. Chester yelled, "What are our guys doing? Those are our shells dropping 300 yards out! Man, that's scary."

"They were probably shooting at the enemy, and those were the shells that didn't hit anything. And luckily they didn't hit us or another ship of our own."

Chester said, "I can't believe those kamikaze bastards didn't try to dive-bomb the carrier."

Randall laughed and said, "Even if I knew I was gonna die slamming into a ship, I wouldn't pick that one to commit hari-kari. That ring of destroyers would scare anybody off!"

Chester and Randall returned to their stations and completed their shifts. By the end of the day the USS _Nawman_ had been given the orders to join up with the carrier group 52.1.1. The sonar relief team showed up and Chester said, "It's all yours, boys. I'm gonna go get some sleep while things are a little bit quieter."

Randall let them know he would be doing the same.

Chester found his bunk; the next morning he did not remember the time frame between finding it and falling asleep.

Chapter 18

NEVER SAY "IT CAN'T GET WORSE"

Chester had lost track of time. The only way he could identify the day and the hour was to look at the reports that came through. He decided, _Being on duty from 3:00PM one day straight until 6:00AM two days later has a tendency to do that to a man._ But Chester never minded; he knew he was saving lives and protecting his country, the very reasons he had enlisted in the first place.

Late on April 3 Chester yawned, and his head bobbed for only a short second. He snapped it back up and stared at his radar screen.

"I'm doing the same thing back here, buddy," Randall said. "It's been a long one this time, for all of us." All of the sonarmen agreed.

The skipper entered the Sonar Room. "Who's going on break first?"

"I'll go!" shouted one of the other sonarmen.

"No, you're staying right here. Anyone else?"

Neither Chester nor any of the other sonarmen volunteered; the skipper would choose who he wanted anyway.

When no one spoke up the skipper said, "That's more like it. I want to see dedicated sailors willing to do anything for their team and country."

Chester figured then it had been a test, and he did his best to tell himself it would be still more hours before he saw his bunk.

The skipper then said, "Chester, Randall, dismissed."

Chester could hardly believe his ears. He made the necessary preparations for leaving his station and headed out with Randall.

The skipper stopped them and said, "I picked you two because with what's coming our way I'm going to need my best men to be well rested and ready to go for another long round. Keep up the good work men. You've made me and your team proud."

Chester and Randall both saluted the skipper and rushed to their bunks. Chester could not fall asleep. "You awake Randall?" he whispered.

"Unfortunately. I guess our innard-clocks are all buggered up, huh?"

"I guess so." Chester paused then said, "Hey, did you happen to see that F4-U go flying off the USS _Lunga Point_ and into the water this morning? They said the _Lunga_ rolled 23 degrees and that's what caused it."

Randall let out a big sigh then said, "Boy, that was something. I watched it during my short breakfast break. At least they rescued the pilot. Did you hear about the USS _Steamer Bay?_ They lost a plane as well earlier this evening."

"You're joking, right?" Chester was hoping for a yes.

Randall said, "No, I wish I were. It went in the water just like the other one, but this pilot wasn't so lucky. I heard them talking about it. They said it looked like he lost his life jacket and just disappeared. I hate to think of the poor soul being eaten by sharks."

"I guess I never thought about it that way, but you're right. And with all of the blood being spilled in that water I'm sure it's making a resounding call to those carnivores."

Randall butted in, "That makes it sound even worse."

"Yeah, it does. And if we keep going like we are, losing planes and shelling our own ships, the Japs won't have to fire another shot—we'll just destroy ourselves!"

Chester remembered laughing at that the night before as he woke up the next morning, April 4. Much to his liking the USS _Nawman_ was pulling alongside the USS _Bagley_ DD-386 to pass them their mail.

"Hot dog!" Chester shouted when mail call came and he had a couple letters and a small box filled with goodies from the family. He stumbled over his own fast-moving feet as he returned to his bunk. He spread everything out and sniffed the envelopes and the package to see if he could catch a whiff of home, and he did. Then he wasted no time tearing them open. He chuckled when he saw all of the memorable trinkets from Jeb's room that fell out of the box. He opened the tin of pomade, only to find it empty of the goop, but filled with a note that said, "Thanks Big Brother!" And that made him laugh out loud. He finished going through the items, finding a hair ribbon from Sue that he immediately tied to his bunk, a new handkerchief from Mom, and a couple of dollars with a note that said, surprisingly, "From Dad."

He read the two letters...several times. Jeb was fine but missed his big brother really bad. Chester read between the lines when Jeb mentioned that Mike was doing his own thing but Mom approved. Chester was glad to hear that the letter he had sent during his stint at Iwo Jima—the one he had written to let them know he was doing fine—had reached them, but he hated to hear that Mom was extremely worried because, as expected, Dad was still making them listen to the war news every night.

Chester smiled at the bright red lip imprint circled by x's and o's from Sue. He was glad to know she was still waiting for him to get home.

April 5, 1945

THE NEWS CAME IN THAT the island of Okinawa was equally divided with the Japanese since our gains of ground. They had been showing little resistance the past few days. Chester thought, _They may be turning keen to just how futile it'll be to keep fighting the impressive American troops on land, sea, and in the air._ He secretly hoped it would never get as bad as—or worse than—what he had already been through.

He spent the rest of the day cleaning his bunk area, taking a shower (uninterrupted), and feasting on three square meals in the mess hall; they actually tasted good enough that he politely asked for seconds if they were available. He returned to his bunk a bit before "lights out" that evening. He looked around for anyone else who might be there. He did not even want Randall to be in sight. This was something special. He lifted up his mattress and pulled out the Baby Ruth candy bar he had received in the box from the family. Quietly he hopped up into his bed and hid under the covers. _What am I, 12?_ Slowly, and with barely any noise of the candy wrapper crackling, he unwrapped the chocolaty peanut and nougat wonder. He ran it under his nose like a cigar and inhaled deeply. He took his first bite and thought he had died and gone to Heaven. He was quick to gobble up the rest before anyone else might come in. Needless to say, he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

April 6, 1945

A golden dawn broke over the smoldering, char-filled water, the sounds of war still rumbling in the distance. Chester awoke to Randall standing by his bunk, twiddling the Baby Ruth wrapper. Chester's eyes widened. "Uh, I can explain. But really, I have nothing to explain, because that's _not_ mine. I swear it!"

Randall laughed at Chester and said, "I'd believe you except for that chocolate all around your mouth!"

Chester rubbed his lips with his arm and looked at the residue. "Well I'll be darned. When did that elf get in here and force feed me chocolate?"

Randall laughed then said, "A gift from home?"

Chester hung his head. "Yeah. It's not that you aren't worthy of sharing it with. It's just that..."

"Don't worry. I've gotten the same things from my family and never shared them with you!" Both laughed, Randall continued, "And it sure gives you some sweet hope to know they haven't forgotten about you, doesn't it?"

Chester nodded. "I'll say!"

"Well I hate to bring you out of your chocolate dreams, but we need to get down and relieve those guys in the sonar room. They've been at it a long while, trading shifts, but only for a few hours at a time. You and I are sure lucky we got a couple of days off. But I have to say, I'm not too excited about why the skipper chose us."

"I hear you. Let me throw on my pants and shirt, and we'll get down there ASAP."

Chester and Randall relieved the sonarmen on their radars at 6:30AM. When Chester and Randall stepped to their stations all seemed quiet. Within minutes a red-flash GQ came blasting over the intercom.

"Holy cow!" Chester shouted. He grabbed his earplugs.

"Holy cow is right!" Randall scrambled to grab his, too.

The sound of the enemy was increasing in volume by the second.

Chester shouted, "There must be at least 150 blips on these screens."

Randall hollered back, "I see them! Chester, I don't know if I've got it in me to fight another round. And this looks bigger than the last!"

"Don't you give up on me now, sailor! You're all I've got, and I'm all _you've_ got to make it through these 28 months of Heaven and Hell. This is surely the Hell part, but we can take them. We're American, remember? We don't go down easy. We've got to do our jobs. There are lives at stake, including ours! Now STAY on that radar and DON'T budge!" Chester, flummoxed at his own gumption, which he figured had built up from the good rest, was glad to see that his pep talk had given Randall the strength to continue.

The loud, intense, low whirring of the enemy planes caused the ship's gears to vibrate. When Chester looked out the porthole from his station all he could see was the sky turning black with planes. The big guns began to fire at full strength. The ack-acks were really starting to rattle things. The planes Chester was watching began to ignite here and there. Soon it became a sky of mayhem filled with flack burst and clouds of explosives. It looked to Chester as though the planes were diving in all directions. The sounds of war had escalated to a new level, something Chester had hoped he would never have to hear.

Across the water Chester helplessly watched a kamikaze bore into the destroyer USS _Bush._ His jaw dropped, and he became nauseated when a ball of smoke and fire shot sky high, and flames engulfed the entire ship. The suicide bomber had made a direct hit on the powder compartment.

Neither Chester nor Randall were short on words to describe the airplanes blowing up in midair, one right after another. Chester's voice shook when he shouted, "We've never seen action like this!" Explosions sounded like an off-kilter metronome trying to keep time to a symphony that had gotten out of hand. Clouds of smoke were rising from carriers, destroyers, cruisers, and anything else that seemed to be floating.

Randall hollered, "God must be watching over us. We haven't taken a hit."

"Yeah...yet!" Chester yelled. Even with his earplugs in he was sickened by the disturbing screams of some of the _Nawman's_ crew. He pointed at the porthole and shouted, "Watch out! He's coming in low enough, he's probably going to drop a torpedo." Chester felt his butt pucker as he waited for the hit that would end it all. But instead of taking the hit, Chester watched the Japanese plane explode in midair.

"Damn! That was too close!" Randall shouted.

"Did you feel the blast and the shrapnel hit the ship?"

"Unfortunately! But stay on your radar. Who knows, they may have enemy subs headed this way. We've got to stay on top of our duty. The skipper's counting on us!"

Chester pulled his skivvies out of his butt crack and looked at the machine where the news was emerging. "Report says our damage was minimal with that episode."

"Great! NOW FOCUS!"

"Holy shit! Here they come again! It's like they're not giving up until we're all obliterated!"

Randall sounded composed. He ordered Chester, "Just keep doing your job. Quit looking out of that damned porthole!"

Without even thinking Chester replied with a strong, "Aye, Sir!" He looked at his radar again. "Looks like waves of 50 or so knucklehead Japs in those suicide contraptions."

"Yeah, I see it. Keep your eyes moving on that screen. Don't let any blip go unnoticed. We've got to protect this ship."

Chester did just that, though he hated that he could not stop his hands from trembling on the knobs and handles. The high decibel Doppler effect of the planes coming in and the dropping bomb shells whizzing overhead made it difficult to maintain his composure. But Chester stayed glued to his screen and focused on listening for any orders coming through.

Chester could hear the numerous kamikazes popping and sizzling like the caps on an overheated radiator as the US air troops took them out left and right. He watched as the enemy blips on the radar vanished, realizing they were being blown to pieces. He knew the Japanese were still doing massive amounts of damage, but he kept himself in line knowing the US troops were fighting back even harder.

The fighting lasted well into the night and on into the next morning. Still at his sonar station on the morning of April 7, Chester was relieved not to hear so many enemy planes. The ack-acks were still firing pretty consistently, but the heavy noise had subsided. He sat back in his chair, took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly through his pursed lips. He stood and walked to the porthole. "My God. Randall, come look at this fiery mess on the water."

Randall made his way over to the porthole. Chester stepped aside with tears in his eyes. Randall looked then echoed, "My God."

THE NAWMAN, THE USS MITCHELL DE-417, and carrier USS _Anzio_ CVE-51 were instructed to proceed to the Kerama Islands for fuel, ammunition, and assorted supplies. During the night they passed the task force group 58. At 3:00AM the _Nawman's_ orders were canceled, and they were directed to taskforce group 52.1.1.

Chapter 19

SO YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE TOUGH

6:30AM, April 7, 1945

The USS _Nawman_ had completed its refueling alongside the AO-32 tanker, the USS _Guadeloupe._ Chester stood on deck watching as they sailed with seven carriers, including the USS _Shamrock Bay_ CVE-84, which had joined the task group, and thirteen escorts.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw the Big "E" carrier group night fighter squadron on the horizon. Six enemy mines had already been sunk before sunrise. The day at sea remained uneventful for Chester and the crew of the _Nawman._

April 8, 1945

Chester found himself at the sonar for another red-flash GQ that had come in the middle of the night. It was now secured, and he was on his way to an early breakfast with a paper in his pocket. He sat down at the table with Randall and the other sonarmen and hastily downed his unrecognizable eggs. He gulped the swill they called coffee then said, "You guys aren't going to believe that we're actually still alive. God DID watch over us, and I can prove it. I've got the intelligence report."

He pulled out the statistics paper and began to read. "It says here, in so many words, that we lost four ships, sustained a lot of damage to quite a few more, including some of the carriers. The ones that sunk were the USS _Bush_ DD-529, the USS _Colhoun_ DD-801, cargo ships the _Hobbs_ and the _Logan_." Chester felt a lump build in his throat, knowing he had seen the _Bush's_ fate firsthand. He choked back the tears and read on. "So far we've lost 175 US soldiers and 200-plus marines, add to that 798 wounded soldiers and marines." He wiped his eyes.

"What about the Japs? Does it say what kind of damage we dealt them?" Randall asked in a flurry.

"Yeah. It does. It says here that they had 65 aircraft destroyed."

Randall slammed his fist on the table. "That's it? All that work, noise, and turmoil, and we only got 65?"

Chester did not answer him. He continued with the report. "And they don't have an accurate count of the Japanese who were killed or wounded. But I'm sure the raw numbers will come in time." Chester looked up. When he saw the expressions that met his eyes he said, "I'm only reading what this intelligence report says. But there is a bit of good news: we were given credit for three enemy planes that the US shot down."

Chester had barely finished reading the report when yet another red-flash GQ came. By 8:15AM it was secured. Chester and Randall remained at their stations until suppertime.

Once again the guys gathered with Chester at the same table, and they swapped stories of the day. Chester was first. "I saw us passing the convoy of LSTs. Any news there?"

Randall answered, "No, but I did see the report that around 3:00PM the USS _Lowry_ and the USS _Powell_ had possible sub contacts."

"Did we take 'em out?" another sonarman asked.

Randall shook his head. "Not that I know of, at least not as of yet."

At 6:45PM the call came that there would be both dusk and dawn ongoing GQs until further notice. No one moaned or groaned, they simply took their places.

Word came through that the Japanese had attempted small counter attacks against us, but so far they had failed. Another report read that a large group of enemy aircraft had attacked our forces on Okinawa, but we had destroyed 116 of theirs, 55 being taken out by our fighter planes. The enemy, however, had succeeded in sinking three more of our destroyers and damaging several DDs and smaller craft. Upon discovery of this news Chester could not help but bow his head and give thanks to God one more time for protecting the _Nawman_ and its crew.

By late evening word had reached the USS _Nawman_ that the Japanese taskforce had been spotted passing south of Kyushu Island and heading into the China Sea. The force included the Japanese super battleship, the _Yamato,_ along with two cruisers, one of which was the Agano-class light cruiser. The other one was suspected to be a smaller craft, or possibly a heavy destroyer. And still other ships were noted and reported as DDs of our type.

Chester felt his guts wrench and said to Randall, "Isn't that _Yamato_ supposed to be the most powerful battleship in the world?"

Randall replied, "Yup. It's supposed to be a huge one. But I've got a feeling that's not going to matter to the US Navy. Listen." He winked at Chester.

Chester lent an ear. "What is that?"

"I believe it's our boys cutting loose on that behemoth from overhead.

KABOOM! Pow! Pow! Pow!

"Are you seeing anything on radar?" Chester asked.

Randall answered, "No. Are you?"

"Nope." With that Chester went to the porthole to see if he could see anything going on.

A small break came for Chester and Randall, and they headed up on deck but could not see the _Yamato._ Chester startled when he heard the skipper say from right behind him, "We've got a plan. We're not only bombing them from above, we're also unleashing eight torpedoes into one side of the monstrous Jap vessel. Do you know why, sailors?"

Even though Chester thought he knew why, he also knew better than to say yes. He said, "No, Sir, Why?"

"Because if we would bomb both sides of that Neanderthal of a ship at the same time, the water would rush in and balance it out. She would stabilize rather than sink, and she'd continue on course straight toward our fleets. But, if we bomb only one side of the giant, it'll fill up and capsize. Brilliant don't you think?"

A resounding "Aye, Sir!" came from Chester and Randall in unison.

"Those crazy-ass Japs have no idea who they're dealing with. Why don't they just give up before it gets really ugly?"

Chester fully agreed with the skipper and said, "I don't believe those Japs have enough sense to know they're losing this war. What a pity." He saluted the skipper, as did Randall, and they both returned to their stations to finish their shifts.

When all was said and done, the US had sunk the _Yamato,_ both cruisers, and three destroyers and left three more burning. Approximately 275 Japanese aircraft went down compared to only seven of the US's. The reports from the rest of the day included news of the US troops encountering stiff resistance from the enemy on Okinawa. One of the airfields the US had captured, however, had had 1000 feet of runway added so the heavy and medium bombers could land; this was a strategic move in the plan to help bomb Japan in the coming days.

A new report stated that 150 enemy planes had been shot down in the biggest raid yet on our troops. Since the invasion the total number of enemy aircraft the US had shot down totaled approximately 2500 with approximately 1781 of them definitely destroyed. The sobering news had brought Chester to tears.

As he lay silently in his bunk Chester wondered what Jeb had dne for his birthday today _. I wish I could have been there to give him his very first, very own tin of pomade for his special day._ But the fun thoughts turned somber when he realized how overwhelmed he was at all that had taken place since he had left his home in Ohio back in 1944. He had never dreamed it would be like this. He knew he was a proud American, and he knew he would continue to serve his country with valor. But deep down, he felt as though not only he, but so many other soldiers, sailors, and airmen were beginning to feel the invisible, emotional scars forming that would haunt them for a lifetime.

Chapter 20

NEWS AND MORE NEWS

April 13, 1945

Between 4:30AM and 6:10AM Chester found himself serving back-to-back red-flash GQ calls. Hoping the last one would be the final one for a while, he headed to breakfast. As he made his way through the line he began to hear rumors he hoped were not true. He could not wait to get to his table; Randall had gotten through the line well before him, and Chester hoped Randall had the real news.

"Hey Chester! Good to see you this morning," the sonarmen greeted in unison.

"Good to be here. Though I must say those back-to-back GQ calls are getting old." Everyone laughed. Chester took his seat next to Randall and asked, "So, are the rumors true? Have we lost Roosevelt?"

Randall nodded. "Harry Truman took his seat as president now."

Chester bit his lip. "Damn. I hope he can get us through this blasted war OK." He held up crossed fingers, and the other sonarmen, including Randall, nodded and mimicked Chester's actions.

"So what's on tap for today?" Randall asked.

"GQ!" Chester sounded off. All laughed.

"No. Seriously, what are we to do today?"

Chester piped in and gave him the rundown. "We're heading to refuel at sea alongside the USS _Anzio_ CVE-57. I heard that one of her planes shot down eight Nips yesterday!" Cheers followed. Chester continued. "And let's see...oh yeah, we transferred a seaman to the carrier due to acute appendicitis. OUCH!" Everyone agreed "ouch" did not even begin to describe that pain. "Other than that, sounds like we're going to be rejoining our screen soon."

A few days passed uneventfully, much to Chester's relief. He read his letters from home a few more times, watched the sunsets from the deck, and worked his normal shifts with Randall. He did some research and found out the surprising fact that the USS _Nawman_ had now sailed a total of 64,378 miles since her commission. He was glad he had chosen the Navy and was getting to see the sights of the world. He had especially grown accustomed to the days they were at sea, and he could watch the sea life gliding by beneath the clear turquoise-blue waves.

It was not until April 16 that Chester found himself heading for the first red-flash GQ since a few days ago, so he did not mind rushing to and manning his station. Between April 16 and April 30 Chester kept a keen eye on the reports that came through and made certain to keep the other sonarmen informed as best he could. The news regarding the number of enemy wounded and casualties was staggering. As of April 26 enemy casualties came to 22,269. Add to that 399 POWs plus 125,259 civilian POWs. American soldier casualties were slightly more at 22, 889 plus 4819 wounded and 289 missing in action.

April 27, 1945

Chester came to the breakfast table with the latest reports. He could tell that the realness of it all was starting to weigh on his mind. With intensity he stated, "As of today we've lost 11 ships."

"Do we know which ones?" Randall asked.

"Yeah. I've got it right here. Did you want me to name them?"

"Absolutely. I want to know what those Japs have taken from us. It makes me want to fight all that much harder!" Randall's small speech had come out as a pep talk, and now others had gathered around the table to listen.

Chester sighed, straightened the paper and said, "Some of these are a few you've already heard about, but I'll read the entire list to bring everyone up to speed." He laid the paper on the table and used his finger to guide him through the exhausting list. "The 11 ships include the USS _Bush_ DD-529." Again he felt a lump in his throat from watching that one firsthand. He continued, trying not to tear up. "The USS _Colhoun_ DD-801, the _Hobbs Victory_ cargo ship, the _Login Victory_ cargo ship, LST-447, USS _Abele_ DD-733, the LCS-33, the USS _Pringle_ DD-477, the _Swallow_ AM-65 mine sweeper, the LCS-15, and the cargo ship _Canada Victory_." Chester shook his head. "I wonder how many more we'll lose before this damned invasion is over."

"Too damn many!" another sailor responded.

Chester said, "There is a tad of good news. Our soldiers have captured another airfield on Okinawa." The group's cheerful response brought a smile to Chester's face.

"Way to go, Walter Winchell!" Randall mocked Chester. The other sailors nearly split their britches in laughter.

Chester scowled. He had deemed it a very important task to keep the guys informed and was sincere about the news he found in the reports. His heart always sank when he read the casualties of men and ships. When he thought about what he was going to read, he fired back at Randall. "Laugh it up all you want, but to quote that great man, I think he summed up this war without knowing it when he said, 'The same thing happened today that happened yesterday, only to different people.'" The tone of Chester's voice must have delivered a good dose of reality to the guys, because they quickly clammed up.

Chester spent the next five days stewing over the mockery he faced at each breakfast. He thought, _Hmmm, that must be how Jeb feels when I call him "Bean Belly."_ Chester's feelings had been hurt, and all he was trying to do was keep the guys informed about the seriousness of the war. During those five days, in between stewing and duties, he had taken the time to prepare a condensed report. He was not in the mood for any more snide remarks from Randall, but before he could get a word in edgewise, Randall sounded off, "OK crew, pipe down, it's time for Walter to give us the scoop." Everyone laughed. Everyone but Chester.

Chester tossed Randall a smirk, and his statement held a pinch of anger, "I'll have you know, I don't mind you calling me Walter. Heaven knows you've called me much worse!"

Chester cringed until the laughter subsided; he thought Randall's rolled eyes would stick in the top of his head.

Chester began his newscast, somewhat deflated. "For whoever wants to listen, a few days ago approximately 50 miles southwest of Okinawa, the hospital ship USS _Comfort_ AH-6 was hit by a Japanese suicide plane. There were 29 casualties, 33 injured, and one missing. In a strike against Okinawa another of our ships got hit during the night. The survivors were taken into Kerama Retto to the hospital ship there." He looked up at the men and said, "The casualties were too high and serious to count."

Randall said, "Walter, you sure know how to be the life of the party!"

This time the mockery and laughter shot through Chester's veins like icy water. Calmly he looked at the clock in the mess hall. He then pulled another piece of paper from his shirt pocket. "Randall. You've been so inconsiderate regarding the reports I've been bringing to you and the others, I wasn't going to tell you this. But I've decided to do the right thing." Chester watched as cockiness overtook Randall's face. Chester unfolded the paper, and this time he looked at his watch before he said, "I wrote it down because it seemed pretty important."

"Yeah. What is it? Come on! Tell me."

"Sheesh, calm down. I'll tell you if you clam up." He watched Randall back down ever so slightly then continued, "The Officer of the Day asked me to send you up to the bridge where he's waiting. You're to be there at..." Chester looked over his note. "...oh here it is, at 7:00AM."

Randall looked at the clock and then at his watch. Chester saw Randall's face light-up when he said, "Then I'd best get going! Did he say it was good?"

Chester pursed his lips and shrugged. "He didn't really say either way."

Randall stood and added, "I know I haven't done anything wrong, so it's GOT to be good." He winked at Chester. "Oh, and don't read anymore without me...Walter." The laughter from Randall and the others echoed with annoyance in Chester's ears.

RANDALL RETURNED AND RUSHED TO the table. He sat down. With a sparkle in his eye he said, "You're not going to believe this, but I just talked to the OD, and he wanted some personal information so they can give a dedication to me and the entire sonar group for achievement above and beyond our calls of duty. PLUS, there's going to be a promotion in rank for me."

Chester's mouth dropped open as his face went beet red. He looked Randall in the eye, and Randall returned a head nod while boasting a cocky smile. Chester's voice had never sounded so meek. "Really?" he squeaked.

Randall nodded his head, then he shook it, slammed his fist on the table, and said, through gritted teeth, "NO! You got me!"

Chester spouted back, "Well good! Maybe that'll teach you to stop making fun of me and these serious reports. We've got thousands out there dying to keep us alive!"

Randall retaliated, "Well, well, well. You shouldn't be sending me to an officer without a real reason. Do you know how stupid I sounded to him?"

Chester leaned in, "I'm glad you did."

"Oh yeah?"

"YEAH!" Chester began to stand up, but Randall beat him to the standing position. This angered Chester even further, and he squinted his eyes at Randall, contemplating what mean-spirited trick he could do next. When he picked up his empty tray and pulled it back ready to swing it, Randall scooped up his eggs in his hand.

A nearby sailor stepped in and said, "Whoa. Guys, guys. You're the best of friends. There's no reason to let some mockery and a prank get this far out of hand. I know we've been under a lot of stress, but you two need to quit it, and quit it right now." He stepped back. "Go on. Shake hands."

Chester backed down and returned his empty tray to the table, though on the inside he was still fuming. He could tell from Randall's other hand, which was forming a clenched fist tucked tight against his side, that he was still thinking about taking a swing. Chester suppressed his anger and did his best to force a sincere apology. It took Randall a bit longer to return the same. Once they had verbally said their "sorries" they did not budge; they remained stiffened, staring into each other's eyes.

"You two gonna kiss or what?"

Chester and Randall joined right in the laughter.

Chester thought how much good Randall had done for him, and that drove him to say, "OK. OK. Truce. I promise if you stop calling me Walter, I'll stop sending you on wild goose chases. Deal?"

Randall did not hesitate to answer. "Deal." He dropped the eggs back onto his plate, wiped his hand and extended it, and Chester returned a firm handshake (then wiped his hands on his pants). Randall added, "This ship's too small for us to be acting like a couple of school brats, don't you think?"

The others laughed along with Chester. Realizing the silliness of it all, he felt bad that he had treated his best friend like he had, and he made a promise to himself never to do that again. He figured it had all come about due to the high stress of the war. He was glad to see everyone smiling once again.

Randall spoke, "Now let's get down to business. What's on the rest of the report you've got there?"

Chester could feel Randall's sincerity, so he gladly continued with the report of the morning. "Well, the Japs attempted a counter attack and were repulsed. It was an amphibious attack that included kamikazes, boats similar to our PTs, and rocket bombs. Every Jap attack was broken up, but somehow they still managed to sink five of our ships and damage several others."

"Did we get any of the Japs?" Randall asked.

Chester nodded and said, "Yeah. We were able to shoot down 168 planes, including 15 suicide crazies." He checked his condensed notes for the next bullet point. "In fact, one attack by the Japs included 3000 troops landing on the beach with tanks, and we cooked 20 of those with our heavy guns." He glanced down again at his notes and shook his head. "They said there was fierce hand-to-hand combat, and the result of that took out another 1000 Japs."

"My God. How many of those sons of bitches have we wiped out now? Surely with those numbers there can't be any left. Damn them!" Randall was furious and kicked the table leg. Chester was glad Randall had taken out his frustration on the table rather than completing that swing he had been contemplating earlier.

Chester ran his finger along the line of text as he spoke. "Report says since the invasion of Okinawa the total is now 33,462 enemies killed, 700 taken prisoner, including 297 of their labor troops."

"What about our guys in the 10th Army?" Randall asked.

Chester paused. He said with tears in his eyes, "As of May 3 the 10th Army has lost 2,337 soldiers. Wounded make up 11,432 and there are 514 missing in action." Chester assumed the others felt the heaviness fall upon them just as he had. It was sobering to think where he was actually sitting in the Pacific and still had his life. He silently thanked God for the umpteenth time.

Not wanting to leave a bad taste in everybody's mouth, Chester said, "There is a bit more good news." He smiled.

"We're going home?" Randall chimed in.

"Not quite that good, but close. We've now cruised 70,610 miles. Let's see a fancy cruise line do that all while keeping its passengers happy. Well, they may have better food." Chester peered over the note at the scraps on another sonarman's tray and turned his lip up. Everyone agreed with his gesture. "And there's more. We got word that Hitler and Goebbels have committed suicide, and the Germans in northern Italy have surrendered unconditionally. America's making progress boys!" For Chester, the cheers ringing out from the other sailors said it all.

He arrived at his station only a few seconds before Randall. Chester yawned and prepared himself for the next few days of what he hoped to be smooth sailing.

"Hey, Chester. My best guess is we make it to Guam in three days. We're 856 miles from there. We need to travel 285 miles a day at 12 knots continually for 72 hours."

Chester laughed then said, "What are you now, a mathematician? Oh wait, maybe a physicist?"

Randall chuckled. "Maybe! But am I right?"

Chester nodded. "Absolutely, mate!"

Chapter 21

MUCH-NEEDED FUN

8:00AM, May 10, 1945

The USS _Melvin R._ _Nawman_ was 327 miles from Guam. The expected arrival date was the morning of May 11. Chester had reported at breakfast that every gun on shore and every ship which had encountered the enemy on Okinawa had fired one round simultaneously in recognition of the victory in Europe over Germany. In terms of lives, the European war had cost the US Army 732,000 casualties, including 144,000 killed, 467,000 wounded, and 72,000 missing in action. Overall the European war involved 27 million men on both sides, 16 million fighting with the allies. The Germans had 8 million plus those killed in conquered countries. In terms of dollars, so far the war had cost the US over $275 billion.

The _Nawman_ was 42 miles from Guam at 8:00AM on May 11. By noon it was entering Apra Harbor at Guam.

May 12, 1945

The order of the day was refueling and liberty. Chester made his way up on deck and found Randall. "What are you so intrigued by?" he asked Randall.

Randall pointed and said, "That. Look at her. The USS _Windham Bay."_

Chester looked. "Wow. That poor gal sure has a bad port list." He pointed and said, "And that DD over there; look at her." His mouth gaped open, and he shook his head.

Randall exclaimed, "Holy cow! The entire bow's blown off."

"Sure makes you wonder how the _Nawman_ has made it this far unscathed."

Randall nodded and added, "I don't wonder. I _know_ how. It's the man upstairs. If you can't see that by now, you're plumb blind, sailor!"

Chester said, "You're right. That's the only explanation there can be, because it's a miracle." He punched Randall. "Hey, whadda ya say we take advantage of some of this free time and clean up our bunks?"

BUMP! Chester and Randall lost their footing. "What the Hell?" Chester peered over the railing.

Randall looked and said, "What happened?"

"I think we bumped into the DE-418."

"I'm not seeing any damage, are you?" Randall leaned a bit farther.

Chester shook his head. "None from here. But that was scary. I think we're _all,_ skipper included, gonna be glad to get off this hunk of floating metal and put our feet on dry land for a few hours."

Almost an hour later the _Nawman_ had accomplished tie-up alongside the USS _Tabberer_ DE-418, which was moored alongside the SS _Cape Newenham._ By 1:00PM the much anticipated call came...liberty with a beer party on Guam Island!

CHESTER GASPED. "MY KNEES ARE knocking. And that's not all! Look at those white gals over there. They're the first ones we've seen in four months."

Randall gave Chester a disgusted look and said, "You can't be serious. Those are Red Cross girls. You mean to tell me you've got the guts to look at those ladies like you would Sue? That's a disgrace."

Chester gave Randall a look of disbelief. When Randall cracked up, Chester said, "You had me going there for a minute. I thought you were serious!"

Randall said, "Hell no! They're our girls. You know, Americans. They've got all the curves in all the right places." He made sure to sculpt a woman's shape in the air when he spoke.

Just then one caught Chester's eye and winked at him. Chester felt his face go red, but he winked back anyway. He said, "I think we need to find the beer and give up on this flock of lovely ladies, or I'm gonna get myself in trouble."

Randall laughed then said, "I understand. Oh, if only Sue knew how lucky she is to have a guy like you." He took Chester by the arm and pointed him in the opposite direction. "There's some beer over there. Let's go."

When Chester got to the beer cooler he grabbed a couple, tossed one to Randall, and headed for the action that had caught his eye. Some of the guys had put together a football game and a baseball game. He did not hesitate to join the baseball team, while Randall took to football. Both of them, however, took to the beer like pros.

When the games were over Chester met up with Randall. "How'd you fare?"

"Well, at least I was on the winning team." Randall brushed the grass and dirt off his chest and shook the legs of his shorts. Chester laughed when a few mud balls fell out. Randall asked, "How about you? You do any good?"

"Let's just say the harbor is one baseball to the good!"

Together they laughed and downed another beer each. Before returning to the ship they stocked up with supplies from dry land.

When Chester boarded the ship he walked—no, staggered—to his bunk, tossed down his supplies, and then grabbed what he needed for a shower. After he had washed off the sand and salt he returned to his bunk, and he and Randall talked and laughed for quite a while reminiscing about the fun of the day, until he passed out sound asleep.

9:00AM, May 13, 1945

CHESTER JUMPED UP, THREW ON his shirt, and pulled up his swim trunks. "Woohoo! More liberty!" He whirled his hand in the air. "Even with as little sleep as I got because of talking to you, I thought this morning would NEVER get here! Let's go Randall." Chester took a step and felt his head go swimming, causing him to reel a bit. Randall could not hold back his chuckling.

Chester grabbed hold of his bunk and said, "Laugh it up, beer buddy! Better yet, _stand_ up." When Randall stood up his eyes jittered, he wobbled, and Chester got the last laugh.

Randall clunked his fist against his head and shook it then said, "I hear you on the short night and long wait. Finally! A day at the beach. No hangover's gonna stop us from some more fun." Randall hurried to get his swim trunks on.

In minutes they had disembarked, ready to join the day's event—a swimming party. With as much fun as swimming and playing in the water looked and sounded to Chester and Randall, sunbathing at Hoover Park on Piti Beach was the chosen sport of the day, with a dip in the water now and then to cool off.

While sitting next to Randall on the beach, a horrifying sight caught Chester's eye. "Randall, check out those DDs coming in. You can sure tell they've been hit by those damn kamikazes, can't you?"

Randall lifted his head and looked. "You sure can. Unfortunately. I can't believe we get a day on the beach and _still_ have to look at that devastation and be reminded of the war." He watched in silence for several seconds. "Damn Japs," he muttered.

Despite the horrific sights, Chester managed to keep his main focus on the fun everyone was having. He thought, _A few more beers won't hurt,_ and popped open another bottle. He knew he would be up all night either puking or peeing, but for now he did not care.

May 23, 1945

THE USS MELVIN R. NAWMAN was underway for sea duty. At cast-off the destination was unknown, but once they got out to sea the mind-boggling report came that she was headed back to the Okinawa area. By May 26 the _Nawman_ was to rendezvous with a tanker group and exchange the USS _Lunga Point_ for the USS _Steamer Bay_ on an escort back to Guam. Chester could not have been more relieved to know they did not have to stay in the Okinawa area.

On May 28 it was announced that the _Nawman_ was expected to arrive at Guam sometime on May 30 with the carrier USS _Steamer Bay._ At 8:30AM on May 30 the _Nawman_ once again entered Apra Harbor and moored alongside the USS _Wilmarth_ DE-638.

The next day, May 31, the call over the intercom came to Chester's ears like music. Liberty again at Piti Beach with swimming and another beer party.

"WHAT A WAY TO RELAX," Chester said, sipping his beer while standing waist deep in the cool water.

"I can't argue there, my friend." Randall squatted so that the cool water would cover his chest. "Ahhhh. That feels so good right now."

Chester headed back to the ship for some snacks then went up on deck. Randall showed up and invited him to go swimming in the harbor. Chester had no reason to turn him down...well, maybe one—sharks.

Chester dived off the deck and into the magnificent clear water. POP! POP! POP! The nearby sentries had ripped off shots aimed at sharks. The water's top became an instant froth from all of the swimmers thrashing their way to the ladder. Chester wished he were a flying fish. He wanted out of the water NOW, just like everyone else. Randall grabbed onto him. Chester thought it was from sheer terror of being eaten alive. "Let go of me! You're slowing us both down!"

Randall's grip tightened, and he started screaming.

"If you don't settle down we're gonna be the last ones out! Is that what you want?" Chester received no reply from Randall, who had seemingly gone into a mild case of shock, so Chester just kept swimming as fast as he could for the two of them. Everyone made it out of the water without any bite marks.

Randall, obviously still shaken up, said, "I guess it's hard to see those saw-mouthed bastards when you're in the water."

Chester replied, "You can at least see their top fin if they get close enough." He chuckled.

Randall, widened his eyes. "When you see their fin then they're _too_ damn close!" Everyone within hearing distance had a good laugh.

Chester said, "Whadda ya say we head back to the sand for the rest of the day?"

Randall nodded, "I like that plan. I like it a lot. Besides, there's beer there."

June 1, 1945

THE NAWMAN SAILED OUT OF Apra Harbor and was once again underway for Okinawa. Chester's insides curdled, but he kept a keen eye out for enemy subs. The mission took them to a rendezvous with the carrier USS _Anzio_ and the _Nawman's_ sister ships, the DEs 415, 417, 418, and 419. Later, orders were given to detach from the group and proceed, though their destination was unknown.

By June 9 there were still over 15,000 Japanese within 19 square miles on the southern tip of Okinawa. That was a small enough amount to let the American troops know it would only be a matter of days until the island was secured. It was reported that over 65,000 Japanese had been killed on Okinawa as of June 9.

The call came, and Chester thought returning to his tour of duty would be a snap. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned and instantly saluted the skipper.

"At ease, boy." Chester relaxed. The skipper continued. "Seems we have a small problem."

"What is that, Sir?" Chester watched the skipper pull a shirt out from behind his back.

"It seems as though an inspection doesn't apply to you. Do you think I'm your mama?"

Chester stood in a daze, wondering why his shirt was in the skipper's hand. "No, Sir. I would never think that of you. You're a man." Chester could have booted himself for saying something that ridiculous. Then it came to him why his shirt was dangling there; he had left in too big a hurry when the call came, forgetting about inspection. He cringed when the skipper spoke his next words.

"Well, Chester, this is your shirt, and it was lying on your bunk. You didn't even take the time to fold it. It was nothing but a heap."

Chester said, "Sir, I apologize, Sir. It won't happen again, Sir."

The skipper stared at Chester then said, "Just to make sure it doesn't, I'm extending you for two hours of duty."

Chester felt he had gotten off easy, then the skipper continued.

"After your regular shift here, you'll need to report immediately to the Number 2 Fire Room below deck."

Chester thought, _That's WAY below deck._ He said, "Aye, Sir."

The skipper tossed Chester's shirt into his face. Chester caught it and pulled it down. He knew he dared say nothing.

When the skipper had gone Chester slammed the shirt down on his chair. Randall wheezed a quiet laugh then said, "Didn't your mama teach you to pick up after yourself? That's a darn shame, because now you have to spend 2 hours in Hades!" Randall laughed again.

Chester looked at him and cracked up. He said, "What do you mean, Hades? Don't we sail through it and dead on into it every day?" Both laughed.

Randall said, "We sure do. But the deeper you go into Hades, the hotter it gets!"

Chester served his punishment, all the while reminding himself NEVER to leave another shirt, or any other piece of clothing, lying out during inspection, because if he did, there'd be _HELL_ to pay.

Chapter 22

IT'S COMING TO AN END

Chester had been able to write and send a few more letters to the family. He could tell that his letters were making it home because his requests for more Baby Ruth candy bars were being fulfilled in the packages he received in return. In fact, he had received so many, he shared a couple with Randall.

Morning, June 15, 1945

Chester made his way to the mess hall. "Morning, sailors!" he shouted as he sat down at the table. "I've got some good news to report." Many more gathered around to hear what he had to say. He pulled the paper from his pocket, unfolded it, and said, "We're 105 miles from Okinawa, and we just got word that the Jap soldiers on Okinawa are surrendering." Chester waited for the cheers and hollering to dwindle. "It says here that they're doing so by revealing themselves half-naked to show they aren't carrying any concealed weapons. And listen to this. A Jap officer was reported to be shooting many of them as deserters." Chester looked up, his thoughts matching the other sailors' expressions.

"That's hard to believe." Everyone seemed to agree. Randall asked, "What else does the report say?"

"Well..." Chester moved his finger down the page to pick up where he had left off. "...it says here that one Jap asked to return to a cave so he could bring out some of his fellow soldiers. Permission was granted, and he returned with 24 of them, all surrendering to a marine!"

When the excessive celebration died down Randall said, "Certainly it's got to be only a matter of days now before Okinawa will be completely in our control, thank the Lord."

Chester piped up, "Yeah, I'd like to think so." He then motioned for everyone to lean in and he spoke softly. "And how many of you, along with me, think the B-24s and fighters are now based there to carry our battle on to Japan?" Chester watched fire ignite in the eyes of the nodding sailors.

ESCORTING AND REFUELING BECAME THE norm for quite some time. The war was still going on around Chester, but he felt as though the _Nawman_ was no longer an immediate target. Sailing in and around the Philippines, Chester found himself and Randall at the radar for several mine sweeps and sea target practice.

July 6, 1945

Chester had read the report that the USS _Melvin R. Nawman's_ new destination would be in the Tokyo area. The orders were to screen tankers in an area of 300 square miles. The GQ, survivor rescue, and "Abandon Ship" drills became the order of the week.

A loud noise caught Chester's attention; he happened to be standing by the porthole. "Not again!" He shouted to Randall.

Randall came running and looked out. "I can't believe my own eyes." He shook his head. "Why on earth is that plane in the water?"

"It came in from a run, skidded sideways, and did a flip in midair. It landed upside down there next to the carrier."

After a few short seconds Randall said, "Looks like the DE-418 is going in."

Chester watched and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the 3 survivors transfer back onto the deck of the carrier.

Being approximately 1260 miles from the rendezvous point, Chester grabbed the report sheet. "Randall, listen to this. Carrier and land force planes are making daily attack strikes on Tokyo."

"Why don't they just GIVE UP?"

Chester could tell from Randall's tone and actions that he was seemingly losing his patience with the war. But honestly, he could not blame his best friend. "I don't know," Chester said. "Just plumb dumb I guess." He walked back to his radar.

July 14, 1945

The USS _Melvin R. Nawman_ joined a tanker group consisting of 3 carriers, 12 DEs and DDs, 8 tankers, and the cruiser USS _Detroit_ CL-8. By mid-morning the _Nawman_ was alongside the DE-417 to deliver official and US mail. An hour later the ship was alongside the DE-415 delivering more mail. Early that afternoon the _Nawman_ was refueling alongside the USS _Lackawanna_ AO-40. Just before supper the _Nawman_ was ordered to depart from the tanker group and proceed to a point between the tanker group and Honshu for ASW patrol and anti-aircraft protection.

Chester told Randall at supper, "Report says we're 700 miles from Tokyo. And would you believe we've now sailed 84,401.85 miles since commission?" Randall stared at Chester and said nothing. Chester sensed that his best friend was getting worse at dealing with the whole thing. "Whadda ya say we call it a day and head up on deck to watch one of those gorgeous sunsets?" Chester was glad to see Randall agree.

July 15, 1945

The GQ call came at 6:00AM. A mine had been spotted and had been sunk thanks to the _Nawman's_ 40mm gunfire. This type of action continued for a few days. The US continued to take out enemy subs and mines.

July 20, 1945

Chester sat down for some breakfast. He looked at Randall and said, "Ol' Roly-Poly sure is living up to her name." He watched his tray go sliding down the table, and caught it before it hit the floor.

"Yeah, I'll say. It's been like this for 3 or 4 days. I'm not sure I can take much more."

"I understand exactly what you're saying." Chester caught Randall's spoon and handed it back to him. "But it's nice to know that they're rerouting us out of this mess, even if it is nowhere near the strength of the typhoon of '44." He watched his juice slide up one side of his glass and back to the other.

"How long till this damn war's over, Chester?" Randall's eyes teared up.

"I don't know, buddy. I don't want to lie and tell you it'll only be a few days. That would only make things worse. Agreed?"

Randall nodded, then fidgeted his fork in his eggs.

Chester said, "I know it's tough. But we're in this together. If we've made it this far, you know we'll make it out of this. Not just you and me, but America. You've seen our boys fighting. Those Japs don't stand a chance. Just hang in there with me. We'll help each other get through this. I promise." Chester could not have presented a more sincere look into Randall's eyes. Chester thought for a moment then said, "Hey, I've got an idea. Whadda ya say we get a few of our other buddies together and all start to grow beards? We could do that and make a promise to each other that we won't shave them off until we're discharged?"

Randall laughed out loud, then called to their friends. After he explained Chester's idea, there was no doubt that they were all in.

July 29, 1945

The beard-growing sailors were called to report immediately to the skipper.

"Attention!" shouted the skipper.

Chester had never snapped-to so fast. Had it not been for the action going on outside around them, Chester knew he could have heard a pin drop. "This is the Navy, sailors! We are fighting for, and represent, the United States of America. We don't need to be perceived as hoodlums. We need to be feared, respected, and honored. NOW GO SHAVE OFF THOSE UNSIGHTLY BEARDS—OR ELSE!"

Chester was first out of the door and to the showers. He had never seen so much hair going down a drain in his life. He did not know what "or else" meant, and he did not ever want to find out, especially after spending two extra hours in the heat of the lower decks.

August 6, 1945

CHESTER RACED TO HIS SONAR station. At 8:00AM the _Nawman_ pulled into its station in screen while its sister ships refueled one at a time. At 2:00PM Chester went to GQ for ack-ack drill. He said to Randall, "You think we'll hit over 100,000 miles logged? We're at 91,229.65 right now."

"There's a good chance."

A loud call from the skipper came over the speaker, "Men! We have received word that the bomber, _Enola Gay_ , has dropped an atomic bomb on Hiroshima!"

Chester could hear the other sailors, even up on deck, hollering their cheers of victory. He rushed to Randall, bear-hugged him, and shouted, "It won't be long now, pal!"

4:00AM, August 8, 1945

The logistics group was spotted on the horizon. Just before 5:00AM the DE-416 escort had joined the tanker group 30.8 and took station #7 in a ten-ship screen. Tasks were concluded, and the _Nawman_ pulled away at 9:30AM to rejoin their 30.6 group. The ASW patrol continued around the tanker group.

Early morning, August 9, 1945

The DE-419 spotted a mine and sank it. At 8:30AM a hospital ship had been spotted on the horizon. Within 45 minutes the DE-419 came alongside to transfer some ASW officers to the _Nawman_ and an SOM 1C for sonar inspection. Chester made doubly sure none of his Baby Ruth wrappers—or shirts—were lying around. At 10:00AM they participated in sonar and radar tracking exercises with the DE-415. At high noon the task group 38 had been spotted on the horizon.

Chester could not fathom the report that now rested in his hands; it was filled with overwhelming information. He went running to the mess hall, skipped the food line, and went right to the table. "Guys! Guys! Listen to this! At one minute past midnight Russia declared war on Japan."

Randall broke the silence, "I guess they wanted a piece of Japan for themselves." Everyone laughed.

"Shut up! That's not the best part." Chester looked back down at his paper and paraphrased, "It's been reported that we dropped another atomic bomb in Japan, on Nagasaki, and they speculate that over 343,000 people have died in a—get this—seven square-mile area. Everything in the area was destroyed." Instead of cheers, there was dead air.

"Are you sure that's true?"

Chester looked back down at his paper. He laid it on the table so all could see, pointed, and said, "Read it and weep, fellas!"

Within a few seconds the sailors cut loose with deafening cheers.

Randall shouted over the noise, "I cannot believe they didn't surrender after the first one!"

August 10, 1945

Chester reported more news. "Guys. I just heard that Japan said they would surrender, if they could keep their emperor."

Randall smirked. He looked upward, put a couple of fingers on his chin and said smugly, "Hmmmm. I wonder if they even know who brought about their war?" Everyone laughed.

Chester added, "I don't know, but I sure am happy." He looked right at Randall when he said, "Maybe we'll get to go home sooner than later."

Chapter 23

IT'S OVER!

The USS _Melvin R. Nawman_ continued to sail and perform her duties with ease. Chester had no doubt that he, along with the entire crew of the _Nawman_ , were being watched over by God. He found it sobering and hoped that the other sailors realized just how blessed they were.

September 3, 1945

Chester was the first to spot land on his radar and reported, "Looks like it's approximately 50 miles dead ahead."

Randall said, "And what land is that?"

Chester sighed, "Okinawa, of course."

Within a short time the _Nawman_ was entering Buckner Bay Naval Anchorage. Chester said, "Wow. Look at the devastation of that poor island. I hope this was all worth it."

Once the ship was set up to refuel, Chester took the printed report from the machine and headed for the mess hall. He met Randall and a few others there. "Anybody interested in details of the signing of the peace treaty?"

"You mean it's a done deal?"

Chester nodded. "Yup!"

A rush of sailors gathered around the table.

Randall said, "Lay it on us, sport!"

"OK, here goes. First of all, it was accomplished on the USS _Missouri_ BB-63. They were in Tokyo Bay at 9:04AM yesterday."

"Well I'll be jiggered," Randall said. "Those kami- _crazies_ have finally come to their senses. I would have loved to have seen their faces when they stepped foot on that big and mighty ship!" The others laughed.

Chester looked at Randall and said, "You nut. The kami- _crazies_ wouldn't be there; they die when they hit a ship! It would be the kami- _crazies'_ dignitaries." Chester saw Randall blush. Feeling bad, he quickly added, "But I would have loved to have seen the big-wig dignitaries' faces. I'll bet they cowered at the sight of General MacArthur standing at full attention." That brought laughter, and Chester hoped it had helped Randall get over his embarrassment.

Chester flattened the paper report on the table and continued. "After General MacArthur finished his introductory statements he directed the representatives of Japan to sign both of the Instruments of Surrender. There was one each for the Allied and the Japanese governments. Foreign Minister Shigemitsu signed first. Lastly for them was General Yoshijiro Umezu, the chief of the Army General Staff."

Randall interrupted, "Man, you pronounce those Jap names like a pro. I think you've been over here too long."

Chester retaliated, "Think? Hell, I KNOW I've been over here too long!"

"Who were the Americans that signed?"

"Let's see..." Chester glanced down to find the names. "...I'll see if I can pronounce these guys' names as good as I did the Japs'." Everyone erupted in laughter. Chester continued, "After Umezu, it was our first man, General of the Army Douglas MacArthur, the Supreme Allied Commander." Chester waited for the clapping and whistling to die down. "Next was the Fleet Admiral Chester W. Nimitz, Commander in Chief of the Pacific Ocean Arenas." Chester noticed the whistling escalated a notch for this admiral. He continued to read the names that followed Admiral Nimitz, those being representatives for China, the United Kingdom, the Soviet Union, Australia, Canada, France, the Netherlands, and New Zealand. "All of the signatures were in place by 9:22AM."

Randall had Chester turn the report around so he could see it. "I'll bet it took as long for you to read all of that as it did for all of them to sign it." He then thanked Chester for taking the time to be such a great sport, staying on top of the news he had relayed to the sailors for the past several months.

Chester returned a nod of heartfelt thanks, and said, "Boys, the war is over. All we have to do now is wait for that coveted magic word, 'discharge.'" He looked up at the sailors and added, "I don't know about you guys, but I can't wait to get home."

Chapter 24

THE LAST LEG

September 7, 1945

Even though the war was officially over there was still much to be done. Chester was still on the USS _Melvin R. Nawman_ and headed toward the Yellow Sea of China. There was a total of 60 ships sailing with the _Nawman,_ the USS _Anzio,_ and DEs 415, 417, 418, and 419. By 2:00PM the island of Kokozutu was in sight on the horizon. The 32 x 20-mile island rose 6300 feet. It became obvious to Chester that the Yellow Sea had gotten its name from the yellow water of the rivers running into it.

Chester picked up his binoculars and looked. "Hey Randall, take a look through your binocs and check out those beautiful white buildings in the distance."

Randall looked and gasped. "That is quite a beautiful sight if I've ever seen one. Those buildings are so white. Amazing."

The _Nawman_ sailed to their operation area, through the middle of the sea where minesweepers had already cleared a path. More minesweepers and LSMs joined the convoy. It was reported that the amphibious forces of task group 78.1 were carrying the 24th Army Corp. and were going to Jinsen, Korea. By 9:00AM on September 8 the USS _Melvin R. Nawman_ was twenty-six miles from Jinsen.

Chester took a look at the report and filled Randall in on the happenings. "Looks like we're leaving the convoy and staying in the vicinity for at least two days to give the convoy air cover."

"Well, let's hope we get it right." Randall smiled and shook his head.

At 10:00AM Chester and Randall were on deck. A screaming crash-bang-kersplash caught their attention. "Holy shit, Chester! Another one down."

Chester turned in time to see a plane in the water. "What on earth happened? He's still fifty feet from the carrier!"

Chester and Randall watched the DE-415 come to the rescue.

"I'm heading down to find out what comes through on the report." Randall instantly became Chester's shadow. The report came through that the plane had had engine trouble and did not make it to the landing deck. The good news was that the pilot had been rescued.

By evening another report came through, and Chester could not wait to take it to supper. "Guys, gather 'round. You're gonna love this report. It'll bring a tear and make the hair on the back of your neck stand up." Chester waited until he had their full attention. "It has been reported that 'Old Glory' is flying high over Tokyo!" This time the whistling and cheering were accompanied by jumping up and down and hugging one another. Chester even felt one of the sailors kiss him on the top of the head. "Whadda ya say we eat this slop, then everybody meet me at the ladder to go up top. I've got another surprise."

Chester had never seen any of the sailors eat so fast. He made his way to the bottom of the ladder. When all were accounted for they climbed the rungs and gathered. Chester said, "Look at that men! Those are our sailors!"

"YEA!" was the chosen, resounding, word of the sailors.

Chester added, "The ships are now using their running lights for the first time in four years!" Chester noticed he was not the only sailor who teared up at the overwhelming sight of history being made.

September 10, 1945

The day brought hope to Chester as he learned that the carrier USS Anzio would be leaving them that evening under orders, acting as a transport to carry troops back to the States. He smiled and thought, Congratulations men! Be safe on your journey home. May God be with you. My time is coming too. All I have to do is get my discharge and sail across the ocean (hopefully not encountering another storm), hop on the train, make my way to the good ol' Midwest where Osborn, Ohio, sits, and Sue will be in my arms.

Chester could not put into words the wondrous sights that met his eyes as they sailed on to Jinsen Bay, Korea. There were many small isles, several that the _Nawman_ passed close enough to for Chester to see large villages with buildings that appeared to be made of wood and straw. He saw what looked like caves in some of the isles' cliffs. He thought perhaps they had been used by the Japanese. His imagination raced. He sailed by several "junk" boats with one or two sails, filled with people, though he could not tell if they were Korean or Japanese. It startled him when they waved at the sailors on the _Nawman._

Task group 78.1.17 was made up of several ships including the USS _Holton_ DE-703, the USS _Harry E. Hubbard_ DD-748, the USS _Devosa_ AKA-27, the USS _Tate_ AKA-70, the USS _Caswell_ AKA-72, the USS _Trousdale_ AKA-79, and the DE-419. The _Nawman_ sailed with them and eventually anchored in berth 6BS.

September 14, 1945

Chester could not believe he would be spending another birthday at sea, but he was glad to be alive, nonetheless. He turned 20 years old. Liberty was at hand, though only 5% of the crew each day had liberty. But as luck would have it, Chester was in the 5% on his special day. The sailors were not permitted to enter cafes and other public types of places, but there were plenty of red-light districts that met Chester's eyes when he went ashore. That was enough to make him return to the ship and spend his special day relaxing, doing a lot of nothing.

The _Nawman_ remained in Jinsen Bay, Korea, and did not set sail until September 20 on its way to a new berth. Mid-morning Chester found himself helping anchor the _Nawman_ astern the DE-417. Once the DE was good to go the _Nawman_ was underway with the DEs 415, 418, and 419 along with the USS _Montague_ AKA-98, proceeding to Okinawa, Ryukyas Islands.

Chester punched Randall in the arm. "Hey buddy. Do you realize we have officially sailed over 100,000 miles?"

"You're kidding."

"Nope, saw the report this morning. 104,412.89 miles since commission date."

"No wonder I feel like a squid on a hook!"

Chester leaned in and took a whiff. "Thank goodness you don't smell like one!" Together they laughed. Chester added, "Sounds like it's going to be a couple of days at sea before we get there."

Randall patted Chester on the back. "Yup. And that's why I'm glad we have picture shows on the fantail. Tonight they're showing the film 'That Other Woman.'"

"Sounds like a nice break and a wonderful time killer."

September 22, 1945

The Nawman reached its destination and anchored in the area of Hauska Harbor, Okinawa, located on the southwest side of the island where the marines had landed during the invasion. There were approximately 200-300 ships at anchor.

September 23, 1945

Chester and Randall were together in the Sonar Room. Chester looked down at his radar and gently rubbed his hand over it. He said, "Randall, I can't begin to fathom the memories we've made sitting at these radars together. I don't know if I would have ever made it through without you."

Randall replied, "I feel the same way, buddy. I can't believe we're securing this sound gear for good."

Staring at his radar screen and the photo of his mom, dad, brothers, and Sue slid in the edge of some of the sonar equipment, Chester thought, It's been nearly two years since I've seen my family, but for some odd reason Randall seems more like family now. This cruise has become my life. How am I ever going to carry on back on dry land? I've met death square on and survived. I've watched men be trapped beneath enormous ships. I've seen brain-washed Japs fly planes straight into ships, exploding, and killing our sailors, let alone the pilots. I've sailed this ol' gal through one of the worst typhoons in history and lived to tell about it. But how can I ever tell that story and give it justice? There are no words to describe the fear I felt that day.

Through my binoculars I've watched marines get slaughtered beyond recognition while others raised our flag on Iwo Jima with pride. I've heard the sounds of hundreds of airplanes approaching islands on a raid. Like the fear I experienced in the typhoon, there are no words to describe the growling of those planes and knowing our boys were most likely flying head-on to their end. I'm one of the few who helped guide this ship through absolute horror, avoiding the enemies' traps. I am one of the few who helped sail this ship through Heaven and Hell.

Chester took in a deep, stuttering breath and looked out the porthole. As hateful and scary as parts of this cruise have been, there have been moments I'll cherish for a lifetime. I've seen sunsets more beautiful than anyone in Ohio has probably ever laid eyes on. I've watched magnificent sea life dancing in the clear turquoise wake of the Nawman, and other sea life gliding beside us, flying in the moonlight. I've watched God's power roll along with the white-capped waves of the sea. I've met people in countries I never thought I would visit.

He broke out in a smile when he thought, I've played football with a coconut and drunk beer with Randall till I puked. I've walked the deck at night on a calm sea, so calm I couldn't tell where the horizon stopped and the star-filled sky began. And strangely enough, I've become a man in such a way I would not have guessed possible.

Chester placed the cover over his station, turned, and walked away, standing tall with pride in being a sonarman third class petty officer.

Chapter 25

HOMEWARD BOUND - ALMOST THERE

Christmas Day, 1945

Chester had sailed well over 115,400 miles.

January, 1946

THE MEMORABLE NEW YEAR HAD begun. He would never forget watching the giant banner trailing from the mast to the back of the _Nawman,_ flapping in the air with dignity, as they left Enewitok en route to Pearl Harbor. Upon anchoring in Pearl, the _Nawman_ had sailed 119,789.25 miles since its commission. Liberty in Honolulu opened Chester's eyes, as things had changed dramatically since last being there a year ago.

The _Nawman_ sailed on to San Francisco, and Chester was thrilled to see the West Coast of his homeland.

CHESTER AND RANDALL RECEIVED THEIR official discharge papers. They put their feet on land and shouted with joy to each other. They made their way to the train station together but would be traveling home in different directions.

"Well, Randall, I guess this is good-bye until we meet again, huh?"

"I guess it is." Randall grabbed Chester and gave him a bear-hug, slapping his back in a manly fashion. Chester returned the same. Randall said, "It's funny, Chester. You feel more like family to me than my real family now."

Chester cracked half a smile and said, "I know exactly what you mean."

Randall asked, "If you had it to do all over again, would you?"

Chester answered without hesitation, "In a heartbeat, Randall, in a heartbeat." He looked over and saw his train sitting at the station.

"All aboard!" the conductor shouted. "Train leaving for Chicago in five minutes. Five minutes!"

"Well, that's me." Chester stood as straight as he could and saluted Randall. He turned and never looked back; he did not want his best friend to see him crying.

Chester made it to Chicago, then traveled to Indiana where he caught up with his aunt and uncle. They drove him home to Osborn, Ohio.

~Back Home~

THE NEWS HAD COME THAT the war was over, but so far Big Brother hadn't written home regarding when he'd be discharged. His letters may have dwindled, but I knew he could walk through that door any minute, and I hoped sooner than later, because every day had become longer than the one before it, waiting to see him.

Mom and Dad bought him a new bed, nightstand, and desk. I figured I'd be moving back in with Mike any day now. They set up his desk and nightstand in my room—well, Chester's old room—and I started packing my stuff.

"What are you doing that for?" Mom asked.

"I figured I may as well start getting things ready to move back in with Mike."

"Put your stuff back. You're staying here with Chester when he gets home. Knowing him and Sue, they'll probably be married and have a place of their own before you know it." She winked at me, and I knew she was sincere about what she said.

The new nightstand sat next to mine, and the new desk was opposite mine on the other end of the room. Mom said she wanted to wait until Chester got home before setting up the bed. When I asked her why, she said it was too hard to look at an empty bed in his room. I realized I felt the same way.

MID APRIL CAME, AND A gentle knock sounded at the front door. Mom straightened her hair before going to see who it was. I heard it open, and she shouted, "Jeb! Come quick!"

I took off running. When I saw who was standing in the door I let out the biggest shout of joy anyone had ever shouted. I don't remember for sure, but I think I may have pushed Mom out of the way, kind of roughly. I flung my arms around Big Brother and squeezed him so hard I could hear the last bit of air escape from his lungs.

I looked back at Mom, who was crying. She stepped in and held him real tight. Her voice was barely audible. "Are you home to stay?"

I saw Chester nod. "Yes, Ma'am, I am."

"Jeb, go call Sue and tell her to be sure and be here for dinner tonight. But don't tell her why."

I ran to the phone and made the call, but being so excited, I accidentally couldn't fulfill Mom's request.

My aunt and uncle stepped up to the door, and Mom invited them in. The day just kept getting better.

Sue came bursting through the door screaming. She leaped into Chester's arms, wrapped her legs around him, and planted a big kiss on his lips. I thought the two of them had become Siamese twins, because it seemed like they were _never_ gonna separate.

Dad would be home from work in a couple of hours, leaving us time to prepare to replay the scenario we had on Chester's first trip home back in '44.

The table was set, and once again Mom added the extra place setting for Chester. Mike came in the back door and saw his aunt and uncle sitting there. "Well, it's a nice surprise to see you two. What's the occasion?"

Everyone looked at each other. Mom said, "Oh nothing special, just a visit. Why don't you head on upstairs and wash up for supper?"

Mike shrugged and said, "OK." He tore up the steps, skipping every other one.

"HOLY COW! YOU'RE HOME!" I heard Mike shout from upstairs. Mom, Sue, and the others all laughed. I hoped Chester would fill Mike in on the surprise for Dad.

"I'm home!" Dad called from the front door at 5:30PM sharp.

"We're in here, dear."

Dad saw my aunt and uncle sitting at the supper table. He said, "What are you two doing here? Mom's cookin' certainly can't be good enough to drag you all the way from Indiana just for supper?" Everyone laughed. Dad continued, "Sue, good to see you. Where's Mike?"

Footsteps could be heard racing down the stairs. Mike dashed to the table. "I'm here. I was just upstairs freshening up."

"Well that's a first," Dad said with a smile. I saw Mike's face turn red.

Dad looked at Mom with raised eyebrows and said, "I see you set a place for Chester like you used to do. Why'd you do it tonight? Just because we have extra company?"

"NO! Because I'm home. For good!" Chester resounded.

I'll never forget Dad's facial expression. It took him a few seconds before he said, "Well I'll be damned." I was shocked Mom didn't correct Dad's choice of words. He walked over to Chester and stood, staring at my oldest brother. "Son, you are a man to be thanked for all you've done for this country. You've made me proud." I watched Dad hug Chester, and I saw a tear start to fall, but Dad wiped it away before he stepped back.

It was the best suppertime I can remember. We ate, we laughed, we cried, we sang songs.

Chester stood up and tapped on his blue metal water cup. We all quieted. "I have an announcement to make. Sue and I are going to be married on June 17, 1946!" I heard Mom gasp. We all clapped and cheered.

Dad said, "You mean you got her pregnant all the way from Japan?" It took us a moment, but when we realized Dad was joking, we laughed even harder.

I tucked June 17 away in my heart and decided that was the day I would marry my sweetheart, whomever she might be.

After supper everyone pitched in to set up Chester's new bed. He apologized for retiring so early in the evening, but the past few days had been quite hectic. We all saw my aunt and uncle off to Indiana. When the door closed Dad took a seat by the radio with Mom at his side. Mike left to go out with his friends, and I went upstairs with Chester. In all the commotion he had not had a chance to take in everything his old room had to offer. He was admiring his new bed and nightstand. He turned toward me, and that's when he caught sight of the bulletin board with all of the letters he'd written pinned there, along with the sealed bag of fish wings. I could tell by the look on his face that his heart had melted.

Everything should have been back to normal that night, now that Big Brother was home. Everyone had gone to bed, and I could hear dad snoring like a freight train. But hard as I tried, I couldn't get to sleep. It must have been really late, because I heard Mike creep through the back door then sneak into his room, something I'd never been awake to hear before. The excitement of having Chester back home in his room, and on his own new bed, kept me wide awake. I wanted to close my eyes, but somehow they were locked on Chester in disbelief.

When I couldn't take it any longer I snuck out of my bed and crept to Chester's. "Psst. Big Brother. Big Brother." I tugged on Chester's pajamas.

Chester's eyes popped open. He rubbed them and said, "Hey you. How's a sailor supposed to get any sleep around here?"

My mind was racing. It had been so long, and I had so many questions. He looked the same as the last time I'd seen him, but yet I could tell he was a different person. I asked him point blank, "Will you tell me all about it? I want to hear everything about the war. I know it's too late now, but maybe tomorrow, huh?"

Chester put his hand on my shoulder. I saw tears well up in his eyes, and I felt his hand slightly jittering. He barely nodded and answered me with a trembling voice, "Someday, Bean Belly. Someday."

## Carl Lee Young, Jr.

Honolulu, HI 1945

**Rate/Rank:** SO3

**Significant Duty Stations:** Naval training Station, Great Lakes IL; Fleet Sound School, Key West FL; Naval Assignment Station, Norfolk VA; USS _Melvin R. Nawman_ DE-416

**Invasions:** Iwo Jima, Okinawa, Japan, Philippines

**Significant Awards:** Navy Good Conduct Medal, American Campaign Medal, Asiatic-Pacific Campaign Medal with 1 Silver Star; WWII Victory Medal; Philippine Liberation Medal with 2 Gold Stars

## USS MELVIN R. NAWMAN DE-416

SPECIFICATIONS

**Class:** John C. Butler

**Type:** WGT (geared-turbine drive, 5" guns)

**Displacement:** 1350 tons (light), 1745 tons (full)

**Length:** 300' (wl), 306' (oa)

**Beam:** 36' 10" (extreme)

**Draft:** 11' 0" (draft limit)

**Propulsion:** 2 "D" Express boilers, 2 geared turbine engines, 12,000 shp,

2 screws

**Speed:** 24 kts

**Range** : 6,000 nm @ 12 knots

**Armament:** 2 - 5"/38 cal. DP guns (2x1), 4 - 40mm AA (2x2), 10 - 20mm AA, 3 - 21" TT, 1 Mk10 Hedgehog, 8 Mk6 Depth Charge Projectors, 2 Mk9 Depth Charge Stern Racks

**Complement:** 14 / 201

BUILDING AND OPERATIONAL DATA

• 03 January 1944: Keel laid at the Brown Shipbuilding Co., Houston, Tex.

• 16 February 1944: Launched and christened, sponsored by Mrs. R. B. Nawman mother of the late 2d Lt. Melvin R. Nawman

• 16 May 1944: Commissioned, Lcdr F. W. Kinsley in command

• 24 April 1946: Decommissioned at San Diego, Cal. after 1.9 years of service

• 28 March 1951: Recommissioned at San Diego, Lcdr P. H. Teeter in command, assigned to Destroyer Force, Atlantic Fleet, at Melville, R.I.

• June 1958: Assigned to NRT 1st Naval District at Davisville, R.I., soon moving to Providence, R.I.

• 30 August 1960: Decommissioned at the New York Navy Yard, Brooklyn, N.Y. after 9.4 years of service

• 01 July 1972: Struck from the NVR with a total of 11.3 years of service

• 03 October 1973: Sold for scrapping

