I have a picture of a shipmate who signed it "Bo Bo" - this picture was taken in Manila just before ` the war. Wondered if this could be the Thomas Brown from Chicago?

Frank Hamilton writes:

December 7, 2000

Dear Jack:

      I am writing to congratulate you on the job you are doing with THE HUBBLE-BUBBLE a copy of which I found waiting for me when I returned home for Thanksgiving. The number of responses you have had from shipmates who served on the ship is evidence of the deep interest they have in the paper and the Association. I know that each edition represents a great deal of work on your part and those who have assisted you. Your efforts, I believe, result in a paper which contributes much to strengthen the bonds which hold together we who served on the ship.

      The items which so many shipmates have contributed to the paper have added many interesting details to the history of the ship. There is one item in the last issue, however, on which I would like to set the record straight. This is the report of what happened on the quarter-deck on the morning of 7 December, 1941. I have heard or seen this version of the happenings before and did nothing to correct it because it seemed in some ways to be inconsequential. In the interest of accuracy I wish to report what did occur.

      On the Sunday morning of 7 Dec I did have the 8-12 watch as Officer Of The Deck. A little before 0745, I left the Ward Room where I had been having breakfast to relieve the watch. As you know, it was customary to relieve the watch 15 minutes before the hour so that there was time to permit the man whom you were relieving to brief you on the matters of concern to the oncoming watch. Just before I left to go on deck, Cmdr. Fink, the Executive Officer came into breakfast. I said good morning to him. He nodded and I proceeded up to the deck..

      I do not believe that Lt. Grantham was the officer whom I relieved. At that time he was a senior lieutenant and I was an ensign who had come a board for duty in June of `40. "Angel" Grantham was not an officer who was known for taking night watches. In any case, the briefing was brief.

      The Orders of The Day had very little of consequence in them. I do remember that I was told that there was one boiler steaming for auxiliary purposes. I believe I was also told that the contacts for the 5" Mounts and the Turrets were in the Navy yard. I already knew this as I was 4th Div Officer and the port 5" Mounts were my responsibility. I do not believe that I was told that all the sound powered phones were down in Central Station for inspection and repair.

      My Junior Officer of The Deck had come on deck. He was a Chief Warrant Officer by the name of Campbell or Wallace. I remember each of these names but I have forgotten which name went with the short one and which went with the tall one. Both of these men were considered to be fine officers. The one on deck that day was the short one. I'll guess his name was Campbell. Wallace came aboard during the Solomon Campaign, as I recall. Campbell and I walked over towards the life lines on the starboard quarterdeck. We chatted for a moment. I was to have a date with a girl that day, after our watch section got off duty, on some beach where a picnic was to be held. I was looking forward to the date but had no idea where that beach was. I thought Campbell might know where it was but he didn't.

      While we were talking, some fighter planes began to stream down from the sky and fire machine guns at the air strip on Ford Island. I had some identification training in foreign aircraft but I had never seen silhouettes of this model. I remarked that it was a very realistic drill and Campbell agreed . We could see no damage at that point on Ford Island and we were too far away to see any markings on the planes. The St. Louis had on a number of occasions towed targets for our fighters to strafe. I noticed that the rhythm of the guns of the planes diving on Ford Island was different than that of our Navy fighters . I mentioned this to Campbell and he agreed. At this point our attention was drawn to a plane that was flying just off our fan tail. It was headed towards battleship row. A long torpedo hung beneath its fuselage and the torpedo was not parallel to the fuselage. The torpedo was pointed down about 10 degrees. There was a large orange ball on the plane and as it passed by, the man in the bucket seat swiveled a machine gun around and fired a short burst at us. We stood there in our white uniforms and white gloves and I had a long glass under my arm, the badge of the Officer of The Deck. It was not a uniform in which I would have chosen to start a war. I can not remember what my thoughts were. I walked across the deck towards the deck office. The quartermaster of the deck came running out to meet me. I told him to sound General Quarters. He did not question me but ran into the office and pulled the lever. I saw the bugler looking at me and I told him to blow General Quarters. The Captain's orderly was supposed to be posted at the door to The Captain's quarters. I inquired of someone where he was and they replied that he had gone in to wake the Captain.

      Until this time, I had not had any time to think but in some way I had become conscious of the enormity of the action I had taken. Suddenly I was very shaken up by the thought of the unmitigated Hell I would unquestionably catch. My condition was not calmed by the sound of the steps of a heavy man on the ladder from the deck below. It could only be Cmdr. Fink. It was he. He was red in the face and looked speechless from rage but he was not speechless.

      "What the hell have you got going on up here, Hamilton ?" he exploded.

      I replied, "Cmdr.. we are under attack by Japanese aircraft." He looked at me as though I were lying in my teeth or as if he thought I was out of my mind and he was going to send for the men in the white coats. I spoke quickly, "CMDR., would you walk out on deck with me ?" A sailor ran by us and shouted that the Russians were bombing us. The CMDR. Followed me out onto the starboard quarterdeck. He stood there looking around for a few seconds. At that moment another torpedo plane flew by the fan tail - close aboard. Again the man in the after seat fired a short burst before the plane was gone.

      The Cmdr. said, " I'll be God damned, Hamilton, you're right. I've got to notify the Captain."

      " He has been notified, Cmdr.," I said. "Do you want me to move the watch to the bridge?"

      " Get up to your battle station. I'm going up to the bridge."

      I started towards the deck office to drop off the long glass. Once there I took off my white gloves and threw them in the waste basket. I suppose I thought the war would not be fought in white gloves.

      Several days after we had fought our way out of the Harbor some one showed me some bullet holes in the superstructure eight or ten feet above the starboard quarterdeck. I don't know for certain whether these holes were made by the two planes who crossed by our fan tail but I saw no other planes that day which passed close enough astern to have made them.

      I have never liked recounting this story. It was a personal experience. My shipmates who knew the story thought it was very funny and it was. For many years the phone would ring on 7 Dec and when I picked up the phone, a voice would say, "Hamilton, what the Hell have you got going up here ?" Then there would be a roar of laughter and I would recognize Barney Lewis or Harry Milne or Ben Pickett who said last year that the story had earned him many drinks over the years. Civilians who had heard it thought it was a remarkable feat that I had pulled off. The story was meant to be a story of the remarkable feat that the officers, the crew and Captain George Rood pulled of I would have been a remarkable idiot if I had not ordered General Quarters.

      The crew and the officers went ahead without any orders and fought the ship and got her out of there. That was the remarkable story. I have heard that Captain Rood never received any formal recognition for his service that day - not even a letter of commendation. He got the ship out of there with remarkable ship handling skill and courage.   He got it out of there with no personnel killed or wounded and no damage to the ship. He laid his career on the line. He was an officer who took action without waiting to be told what to do.

      I remember that I was in Sky Aft when as Captain Rood was making preparations for getting underway. There was a momentary lull in the action in our area of the harbor. The Admiral on the Honolulu shouted over from the bridge, "George, what are getting ready to do?" Capt. Rood replied, "I am going to take my ship out of here." The Admiral yelled back, "You'll never make it George. You'll never make it."

      Several days after the attack Cmdr. Fink called me in and said, "Hamilton, the Captain said he thought you reacted promptly and properly the other day." I have always hoped that some people higher up would be as generous in their recognition of Captain Rood's exceptional courage and skill as Captain Rood was with an officer of the deck who sent the ship to General Quarters when it required no skill or courage or brains to do so.

      I don't know who started the story about Lt. Grantham on the quarterdeck that day. I never saw him on the quarterdeck that day and no one I have talked to did either. It is, perhaps, a matter of small moment that the story is inaccurate but I would feel badly if it became part of the record.

      When I arrived at Sky Aft, I found there were no sound power phones. We could not communicate with the mounts or Sky Control. I sent a talker down to try and get our phones. He was gone a long time. When he returned, he had the phones and reported that he had to stand in line because an officer had ordered the man passing out the phones to require the men from the various battle stations trying to get phones to sign receipts for the phones and list their battle station.

      As I recall, we did not get power in our 5" Mounts in time to take under fire the dive bomber which scored the hit on the Honolulu. We saw her diving on us. When the dive bomber released the bomb, it seemed to hang up there in the air for a long time before suddenly the bomb began to fall so fast that it became invisible. In the beginning the bomb seemed to be aimed at us, but after I lost sight of it, I, for one, had no idea where it would land. Then a flash appeared near Honolulu's bow. There was a loud "crump". Our ship whipped a little and Honolulu whipped more. It appeared that Honolulu had been hit but we could observe no damage from our station.

      All the while, the fifty millimeters and twenty millimeters were firing. The fifties and the twenties on the Honolulu were also firing and at times they seemed to be firing at our superstructure and directors. They, like we, had cut out cams installed but the cut out cams on their ship, of course, did us did not protect our ship. Several men on the machine guns had ear drums punctured from the blasts of the Honolulu's guns.

      I had noticed much earlier that before all the battleships were put out of action one or two of them were firing their 5" in their gun castles at torpedo planes. These 5" guns, I knew from having trained on them on summer cruises, did not fire anti- aircraft shells and I always believed that the City of Honolulu did not get bombed but were hit by shells fired at low trajectories from the battleships.

      At one point I sighted a flight of enormous planes approaching the harbor from over the mountains. I was sure we were really going to take a pasting but these planes suddenly turned and flew off at about ninety degrees from their original course.

      Many years later I learned that these planes must have been the B-17`s which the Army expected and so were not alarmed when they picked up the Japanese planes on their experimental radar. I did not continue to try to keep them in sight because there were other more threatening planes at a closer range.

      One of these planes, a zero I believe, although I did not know about zeros then, flew down the side of the ship at an altitude no higher than our director so close aboard that I could see the pilot laughing.

      When the sea detail began to cast off or chop through our mooring lines, I could not believe that the engineering gang had been able to get enough boilers on line to permit us to sortie from the harbor. It was an incredible accomplishment.

      Captain Rood then had his short conversation with the admiral and we began to back down turning as we did until we were parallel with the docks at the sub base. Then we headed towards battleship row. We swung around to pass down the row and as we proceeded , the flames from the burning ships seared our cheeks. Nevada was up ahead of us. She was low in the water and apparently continuing to take on more water. After she had pulled out of the channel to beach herself, I understand we had that we had rung up considerable turns but in the beginning we weren't making many knots.

      The burning and capsized ships, the huge clouds of black smoke boiling up from the Arizona were an amazing contrast to the bright sunny sky, the little clouds over the mountains, and the few motor launches still plowing white wakes through the blue water. We had the 5" Mounts in action now. We had the fuses set for air targets. Everybody above deck must have seen the two streaks of bubbles advancing at us. Suddenly the conning tower of a midget sub popped up. Possibly, she did not have time to compensate for the loss of weight when she fired her torpedoes. We got off one 5"volley. I thought the shells exploded on the conning tower but no one alive seems to know whether it did or not. You all know the rest of the story.

      On another subject, I do not know if Admiral Ben Pickett's death has been reported. He died on the 24th of October. While he was aboard the ship, he was an officer whom many respected and admired greatly. I and a number of other junior officers felt that he was an officer in whom were embodied all the finest qualities of the ideal naval officer. While he was aboard the ST. LOUIS, he was a mentor for us.. After the War some of us visited him in Washington and later in Glouster, VA where he built a home I kept in touch with him over the years and in recent years he and I corresponded often.

      He had a number of personal tragedies after retiring from the Navy. He lost a young daughter who died of Cystic Fibrosis. His wife died of a brain tumor. He married again and his second wife died. He had been struggling with Prostate Cancer last year and overcame it but early this summer he was found to have Lung Cancer. He had started a series of treatments but came down with pneumonia. His spirit never wavered. He was steady and uncomplaining. The pneumonia was too much for his body and he died quickly and quietly. I shall miss him. I know other shipmates will also.

      Again, thanks for your work on the Hubble - Bubble which keeps us up to date on the status of shipmates and helps us remember how lucky we were to have served with such fine men on such a great ship.

Best regards,

Frank Hamilton

      Ralph W. Emerson - 6626 Burgundy St. - San Diego, CA

      February 10^th, 2001

      ................as continuation and still putting together the events of December 7^th, 1941 I will add for our readers................

      The junior officer of the deck that morning was W.G Wallace, Warrant Gunner USN not Mr. Campbell. Mr. Wallace has been a good friend of mine for over 50 years and we often discuss the morning of the 7^th of Dec. Mr. Wallace retired in the grade of Commander USN many years ago and is still living in Oakland California.

      I do believe Mr. Hamilton could not of heard the "Admiral" shouting from the bridge of the Honolulu, our division flagship, when he, Mr. Hamilton was in "Sky Aft" (his battle station) and besides the admiral never shouted. - he talked in a normal voice, which I heard when he was talking to Captain Rood. "The Admiral" was Admiral Leary, Commander of the Cruiser Division, made up of the Honolulu, St. Louis and Helena, all cruisers of the Brooklyn Class.

      Admiral Leary (nicknamed) "needle nose" and Captain Rood were standing at the extreme end of the respective catwalks that extended to the perpendicular plumb of their ships, and Captain Rood said "Admiral, I would like to get underway and get out of here" Admiral Leary said "OK George, but you’re a damm fool" That is about the extent of the conversation.

      And Captain Rood ordered "let go or chop all lines" and proceeded to back out away from the Honolulu. "How did I know all this"?

      I was gun captain of No 2 mount of the quadruple 1.1 battery on the St. Louis, with a crew of 10 including loaders and ammo handlers. My mount was located immediately above the navigation bridge as well as the catwalks, which were in clear view and earshot range.

      We fired approximately 4500 rounds (four barrels at a time) and I’m sure all heard them, cause they made considerable more noise than 50 cal. or 20mm. And yes Lt Grantham was there in Sky Forward one level above us in plain sight near the range finder, giving us orders when and when not to fire.

      I was a BM1/c on Pearl Harbor Day. I put the St. Louis in commission in 1939. I advanced to Warrant Bosun, Ensign and thence through to LtCmdr. USN retired in 1956 and I can read and write in spite of being a bosun mate.

      I loved the Navy - and the St. Louis in particular. Two of my former ships are lying peacefully at the bottom of the ocean having been sunk while under tow. The Oklahoma in the Pacific, and the Boise in the Atlantic.

      (THREE SHIPS, RALPH) , the St. Louis went down off the bottom tip of Africa under same conditions in the early 80's.)

      Before I sign off Jack, and before I get to verbal about all the things that are different now than when I was strolling up and down "Hotel Street" in Honolulu and drifting into the "Black Cat Restaurant" across from the Army-Navy YMCA for a full meal for 45¢, let me say that I fully intend to "God Willing" attend your next reunion where ever it is.

      Minneapolis isn’t it?

      Yours very truly, Ralph W. Emerson

      Ed'r Jack’s note! Such an interesting bit of memorabilia and enlightenment Ralph. None of us wish to hurt or cast aspirations on others in putting together our saga stories. We all must remember, that while we truly believe in our minds everything we say and write about those days, each mind remembers just a little differently. It’s the way God put us together. The future "Historian" will put all these memories together, one after another like detectives. What we are doing at this time in life is giving them the words, figures and numbers to work with.  Thanks so much for your letters, I love them, and enjoy reading and writing all this into history.

My memories on Sunday Dec 7^th , 1941
written by Ralph W. Emerson

      Ralph W. Emerson writes:

      December 7^th 1941 Pearl Harbor memories

      At that time, the populace of Honolulu (and indeed the entire Hawaiian Islands, in general) were approximately 40% of Oriental descent "ie". Japanese, Chinese, Philippine extraction, so it is little wonder that I opted for a Chinese lassie for my girl friend.

      And it was this Chinese lassie that I spent the night of 6 December 1941. After purchasing a morning newspaper for a dime (it was Sunday, 7 December the weekday rate was a nickel), I boarded a taxicab at the loading point outside the Army and Navy YMCA, paid my 25 cents fare, as did all the other sailors who had climbed into the cab, and I settled back to read the newspaper during the return to my ship in Pearl Harbor,, some 5 or 6 miles distant.

      As I settled in the back seat of the 4-door taxicab, and as I opened the newspaper, I saw the front page headlines " JAPAN LIES" in bold four inch block print, I could not help reflect on the antagonistic behavior of the Japanese Embassy in Washington, D.C. the past several weeks in dealing with our State Department, and in particular with our Secretary of State, Cordell Hull. I blandly stated to the sailor sitting next to me, showing him the headline, saying, I think these "slope-heads" are going to get ticked off at us one of these days if this type of press coverage continues.

      The newspaper was merely further explanation (as well as any news reporter can explain) the eroding relations between the United States and Japan. Within 15 minutes we had arrived at the Pearl Harbor Fleet Landing, where liberty boats, 40 and 50 foot motor launches, and an occasional 26 foot motor whaleboat, picked the members of their crew to transport them to their ships which were tied up to mooring berths around Ford Island or at Mooring buoys in the harbor itself. Since the St Louis was tied alongside her flagship ( Honolulu ) at a pier in the Navy Yard, I completed my journey to the ship by walking several hundred yards in the Navy Yard.

      Upon boarding the St. Louis, (I had to walk over the main deck of the Honolulu since we were out board of her), I proceeded first to the ship's galley and mooched a large pork link sausage sandwich and a cup of (about a half-pint) of "Jo" (coffee), from a friendly cook, and devoured them promptly. My plans for the day was to go ashore again early, perhaps 1030 or 1100 - so - I first, showered, put on clean white shorts, which was the uniform of the day and , since it was Sunday and "holiday routine" was in effect, I climbed into bunk (the middle one of three-high) on the starboard (right) side of the ship, second deck, about amidships fore and aft, and lay down for a snooze before my planned return shore.

      I had no sooner lain down before I heard a terrific explosion - several of them, in fact. I immediately sprang from my bunk and looked out the port hole not more than 4 or 5 feet away, just above the division pea coat locker, and I saw an airplane clearly marked with the Japanese "rising sun" flying low over the water heading toward the battleships that were moored alongside the pilings around Ford Island and dropped a torpedo aimed at " battleship row" - one of them the USS Arizona - and another tremendously loud explosion followed within a few seconds. Another Japanese torpedo bomber followed the first low-flying warplane, then another. That was enough to convince me that our Navy was under attack by the Japanese airplanes. Since I was already dressed in my nice clean white shorts, I headed, on the double, to my battle station some 5 decks above in the superstructure directly above the navigation bridge.

      General quarters (the claxon alarm which calls all hands to battle stations via the public address system - with speakers located throughout the ship) finally sounded while I was on my way to 1.1" quadruple gun mount No. 2, on the port side. When I arrived at the gun mount, none of my gun crew were there yet - so I ran down one level to the ammunition clipping room and stuffed several clips of ammunition up through the slots in deck provided for that purpose, and hurried back to the gun mount to assume my duties as gun captain. By that time, which couldn't have been more than two minutes, my gun crew had all arrived, and I reported to the 1.1' battery control officer that my gun was "manned and ready".

      The heavy machine gun anti-aircraft control officer was LT E.B. Grantham, whom I could plainly see just above me, waving his 44 caliber automatic service pistol and giving the order to commence firing. Fire at will, when range and bearing will permit". By this order, he meant, of course, that we had only a short time to fire at low flying planes that were dropping bombs and torpedoes in such a congested area. The attacking planes barely cleared the top of the Island of Oahu - and flew low - only a few hundred feet from the ground - to their targets in Pearl Harbor. In spite of the perpetrator's well planned and cunning attack, I managed to fire 4500 rounds aimed at attacking aircraft, during the attack, and in the process, was given credit for downing two of the torpedo bombers.

      As the attack continued - wave after wave of aircraft - there was a lull in the battle. As I have noted before, the navigation bridge was directly below my gun mount. The bridge had a "cat walk" that extended to the perpendicular line of the side or hull of the vessel. The cat walk was narrow and provided the captain an excellent view of how close his ship was when coming alongside a dock or another vessel. Like most everything else on board ship, it was of steel construction. The Honolulu, our flagship, had a similar catwalk. I was in clear earshot, as our captain, George Rood, walked out to the end of the St Louis catwalk, and Admiral Leary, our Cruiser Division commander, met Captain Rood at the end of Honolulu's' catwalk - the following conversation ensued:

Captain Rood: "Admiral, I would like to get underway and get out of here".

Admiral Leary: " O.K. George. Permission granted, but I think you are a damn fool."

Captain Rood: "Thank you, Admiral".

Captain Rood: " Cut all lines. I will take the conn".

      It would be appropriate to explain that the Honolulu had already been hit by an enemy bomb that had disabled her and "rocked" us quite a bit. Also, that the St Louis had been taking steam, water and electricity from the dock for several days while in the Navy Yard (as all ships do) - and as a result - had cold boilers. Of course when "battle stations" is sounded, that dictates that all divisions prepare for battle - thus, boilers are lighted and the ship is readied for getting underway. The Captain had already received word from the engine room that everything was ready. This meant that the required level of steam pressure had been brought from zero to approximately 720 pounds, superheated, in about 45 minutes. This was a remarkable feat and a solid testimonial for the shipbuilders at Newport News Shipbuilding and Dry dock Company, where the St. Louis was built.

      The lines were chopped, and the St. Louis backed out of the slip and away from the Honolulu, eased through the burning oil, floating bodies, gunfire, falling bombs, burning battleships - some had capsized when hit by torpedoes , others had simply blown up or exploded and sunk to the bottom with only their superstructure visible to the naked eye. One, the Battleship USS Nevada had beached itself while attempting to get out of the harbor and almost blocked the St. Louis" exit but we managed to squeak by to reach the dredged channel that led to the open sea. At this time, it appeared that the air attack was over. However there was yet another hurdle to leap over before we could get to the open sea. Our speed was now about 31 knots, which was nearing our maximum, even during our acceptance trials off the coast of Bangor, Maine a couple of years before. A lookout suddenly reported "Periscope sighted, starboard beam!" The captain immediately ordered a zigzag course, and the 5 inch anti-aircraft guns, which were being operated manually, and the submarine was sunk, but not before it had fired it's two torpedoes - one went under the ship and the second one missed astern, apparently because of our speed and maneuvering. The midget submarine, which was operated by one man, was subsequently raised and is in a Naval museum as an artifact of WWII history. The tiny sub wasn't much bigger the torpedoes that were fired from it - maybe 35 feet long, overall - about 4 or 5 feet wide, and even resembled a large torpedo. So it was obvious that the operator (pilot) of the contraption was not intended to return to a mother ship - just sacrifice his life, or scuttle his mini-sub and reach shore for a rendezvous with friendly sympathizers who had entered into prearranged survival plans. Similar heroic gestures were commonplace with Japanese military men throughout the war - some will be mentioned later in this book.

      Our hurried departure from Pearl Harbor was accomplished with naval personnel who had been training relentlessly to withstand an enemy confrontation However, not one of our military or naval commanders seemed to anticipate a sneak attack such as the one launched on Peal Harbor and vicinity on 7 December 1941. The St. Louis had survived the attack with minor damage - a bit of bomb shrapnel here and there on deck, and on my hand which I merely treated with iodine and bandaged it later at my locker.

      An assessment of the damage received revealed no structural damage to the ship - no loss of life - and as we sped to our rendezvous point with a carrier task force, which included the USS Lexington and USS Saratoga, operating some 100 miles northwest of Oahu, for the first time the ship Secured from General Quarters (battle stations) and assumed a watch and watch condition, which meant that half the crew remained at battle stations and the other half could eat., sleep, bathe, and perform ship's duties for four hours. Then they would relieve the other half of the crew that was still at battle stations in order for them to do the same things - eat, sleep. bathe. etc. This was called "condition I , and we did a lot of this during WWII.

      After joining up with the carrier task force, we had our first and only casualty of the battle thus far. A powder loader on one of the 6 inch turrets fell asleep during his watch. An alert was sounded. The guns were quickly elevated for long range firing while the loader's legs were hanging in the breech well of the 3-gun turret, and his legs were literally chopped off. He survived, but his fighting days were over, when he became an instant paraplegic .

      We stayed with the carrier force a couple of days, searching desperately, and I might add, unsuccessfully, for any signs of enemy forces, always steaming at high speeds, steering zigzag courses , to prevent easy torpedo attack by submarines that might be lurking under the surface - and in so doing - we expended our fuel rather quickly. It had been calculated by U.S. intelligence sources that the Japanese naval force that attacked Pearl Harbor was made up of 5 aircraft carriers and supporting ships, and that the air strike force was launched about 500 miles northeast of Oahu -then reversed course and headed east toward Japan at full speed, making it impossible for our surface ships to overtake them and engage them in battle. And the fact that our air patrols fanned out about 400 miles before returning to their base carriers, that fell about 100 to 150 miles short for the patrols to sight the retreating force.

      In a special joint session of the United States Congress, the president of the United States, Franklin Delano Roosevelt asked Congress to declare that " a state of war has existed between the United States and the Governments of Italy, Germany, and the Empire of Japan" since the infamous attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. The Congress did exactly that.

      With fuel running low, the carrier task force, including the St. Louis, returned to Pearl Harbor to take on fuel and supplies. While most of the fires were out, there remained a smoldering mass of ships and military infrastructure that had been sunk or severely damaged. Yet reconstruction had already begun, and security in the area was tight and plentiful.

      As soon as we had refueled and brought aboard consumable store and food, the St Louis was off and running again. This time the destination was San Francisco, arriving there in a little more than four days. Everything moved a little faster, now that we were at war. Since we were not scheduled to be in San Francisco more than a couple of days, the captain insisted that everyone get ashore - or at least be given the chance to telephone their families to let them know that they were safe and well following the Pearl Harbor attack. I made the first liberty, leaving the ship in the early afternoon, took care of my family notification, and did what any other red-blooded sailor would do - "eat, drink, and be merry". San Francisco was always a nice place to do just that.

      After the other half of the crew had their one liberty, we set sail for a San Diego - where also had liberty for a couple of days. I had an opportunity to see my cousin, J.T. Hillbrand, who was then stationed at North Island Naval Air Station, on Coronado Island, was now an Ensign USN and pilot of a PBY seaplane then stationed at North Island in a PBY squadron. His squadron would later move to Ford Island in Pearl Harbor and ultimately to Kodiak, Alaska where he regularly patrolled the seas along the Aleutian chain of islands which stretch practically all the way to the Russian peninsula, Kamchatka, in the Bering Sea. It was on one of these patrol missions that the plane disappeared and nothing was ever learned exactly what happened to J.T. and his crew of six. There was nothing else for the Navy to do but declare him "missing in action" , and his crew as well.

      Oscar Valasz
7064 E. Jefferson Ave. Mentor Ohio 44060

      I was aboard the St. Louis in late 1940 to late 1943. I knew Doug Huggins real well, he was in "E" Div. and so was I . I’m sure Doug will remember me.   I should of stayed on the St. Louis, but my division officer and I had a feud going and I couldn’t do much to help the situation.

      The week before the Pearl Harbor attack we were changing officers. The officer leaving was very good and smart. Mr. Murphy was replacing him. I was in the I. C. gang, had all the sound powered phones to take care of. One day because there was one phone not accounted for, "Murphy" had all the phones taken down to Central Station. All the phones were put in one big pile.

      The officer wanted every serial no. on each phone listed and who had the phone. This was Dec. 6^th ---- Dec. 7^th ---- you know what happened. Nobody had phones anyplace.

      People were asking for all kinds of phones. Because one phone was missing, this incident had to happen. The officer was staring over my shoulder watching me hand out phones to everybody who needed a phone. I was so mad at "Mr. Murphy" that I swore him up one side and down the other. There was other incidents also.

      Had Carter in I.C. with me, he was 10 years older than me, and brown nosing "Murphy" all the time. But I had electrical training in High School for two years so the Navy put me in "E" division, and with my previous training had a lot more knowledge of electrical work than Carter. I made 3^rd Class in eight months and that made me a lot of enemies in "E" division. They got over that SLOWLY A lot of the Petty Officers told me it took them 4 years to make 3^rd Class. The Navy was a poor excuse for electrical training.

      Everybody in "E" division had a lot of equipment to take care of, and some of these PO’s had trouble fixing their circuits. I was sent to help fix the problems and I did. They spent days on their probe and I would fix the problem in less than a half an hour. Later in life I was the trouble shooter in all the shops I worked in.

      I guess you know Elmer, a lot of good PO’s were transferred from the St. Louis. There was a transfer for a 2^nd Class to Cleveland , so I took it. My shipmates told me I was crazy to go there. What I didn’t tell them, was Cleveland was my hometown.

      I could talk a lot more about ancient history on the ship, like the torpedo hit up forward. While the ship was in the yard being repaired I married my girl friend. The transfer came a little later.

      I should call you and find out how much the dues are for membership in the St. Louis Assoc.

      Hope you can read this mess. Sincerely

      Oscar Valasz

      Marine Captain Louis Detweiler

      Pearl Harbor on the 7^th of December:

      Remembers a burst of machine gun fire......from U.S. ships....startling him during breakfast on the cruiser St. Louis. "We ran out on deck and the Japanese planes were flying right over and dropping their torpedoes," Detweiler said, "We had to get out of the harbor." The undamaged St. Louis moved through towering sheets of flame from oil burning on the surface of the water to get out of Pearl Harbor and into open sea, he said.

      Max J. Schmeling - 6314 NW 56^th St. - Johnston, IA 50131 - Ph.(515) 276-5888
 

          After reading the story about the special flag that Martin Barnes passed on to you after he received it from George Currier and Captain Rood, I felt I had to add a little to the beginning of the story about the morning of December 7^th, 1941.

          I was a member of the Marine color guard, December 7^th , there were 4 of us Marines with empty rifles and Marine bugler assigned to the flag raising detail for the ceremony at 8 A.M. This was a morning duty while in port.

          We arrived at the fantail of the ship about 7:45 after picking up the flag from the officer of the deck and were waiting for the bugler to show up, when a lot of aircraft came in from the north. We thought it unusual for the Army to do maneuvers on Sunday morning, until the planes were close enough so we could see the red balls on the wings and body and realized they weren’t ours.

          This was about 7:50 AM, we realized they were Jap planes and they were only about 50 or 60 feet above us. We hoisted the Flag, I remember having trouble getting it hooked up and I now don’t remember who was helping me, but General Quarters sounded about that time, and after getting the flag raised, the bugler never did show up, apparently he was stopped at the quarterdeck to sound GQ.

          We went to our battle stations, the Marines were assigned to the 6" turret #3. We saw a lot of the action of the first bombing, strafing and torpedoes as turret #3 was forward of the quarterdeck.

          I was a trainer in turret #3 and as we got underway I could see some of the devastation through the trainers scope and the white uniforms in the water on our way out of the harbor.   We were the first large ship out of the harbor that morning.
 

      I am 85 years of age now, still chugging along, and very proud of my military service in the U.S. Marine Corps both aboard the St. Louis and other stations I served on during my six year tour of duty.

Received from Jan Svane (Swannie) via Internet

Aloha Jack:

      Just a few words, is the price for mailing the H-B still $6.00 a year ???? Thank you for the kind words of encouragement regarding my use of a computer. Just a few kind words help in the small world we live in. I am a member of Chapter 1 PHSA and also State Chairman of Arkansas.

      Some time back Alva R. Jones joined our Chapter and he was also on the St Louis 12/7/41. The St.. Louis was tied up out board of the Honolulu 12-7-41, I remember Dec.7 going to my battle station in central station and all the trouble with the phones all in one pile.

      In conversation I asked him if he had seen the torpedoes that was fired at us as we were leaving, the harbor via the channel. He responded HELL YES!. One went astray the other one hit a sand bar. I was sure lucky that day. I was in central station starboard side.

      I came aboard in Norfolk when she was called the two screw Lou, I had just come out of boot camp, Newport R.I. as did Warren Cormier. I was with the 3rd. deck division the Quartermaster gang with Ski, Adams Hopper & Chief Price. When Adm. Rood & Cmdr. Fink left that was when I left that wonderful ship St.. LOUIS.

Alva Jones, 7927 Claremont,

Little Rock, AR 72120 (501) 835-6751

Eyewitness to the torpedo attack on the St. Louis, Dec. 7^th 1941 at Pearl Harbor.Via Phone Conversation with Jack R. Jones, Editor of Hubble-Bubble

As spoken to Jones,

      On the Sunday morning of December 7^th 1941, having just finished breakfast I was on my way up to the signal bridge (my work station) dressed in white shorts ( regular white summer uniform pants -cut off) and white jumper top with sleeves cut off. {I had questioned Alva about the shorts, was advised this was a common mode of dress in Peacetime in tropic areas if wanted}. On the bridge and vicinity whites were the uniform of the day. Not dungarees.

      Starting up the ladder through the 01 level, heading to the bridge, the GQ alarm sounded. I proceeded quickly on up to the bridge. Arrived before the quartermaster of the GQ detail got there. The attack had started on Pearl. "Some young Ensign" said in bewilderment "Why are they shooting machine guns at Wheeler Field" The attack was under way. There was no sound powered phones on the bridge, I ran down to Central Station to get phones, they were all down there, for inspection and repair I think. Gathering up a half dozen sets, I went back up to the bridge. People were grabbing the phones, plugging in and quickly getting organized.

      From my spot on the outside of the bridge, on the signal bridge, I could look back towards the fantail. Three Japanese planes were making a very low level run towards the Battleships.

      The planes were so low they, they were hardly higher than the main deck. The St. Louis had 20 foot freeboard, so the planes couldn’t of been much higher than that. I saw an event that stayed in my mind vividly. There was no "weapons" available at all on the fantail. There were several crewmen clustered watching the attack in awe. Apparently by now it had sunk in that an attack by Japanese forces was occurring, the battleships had been hit already. The pilot and rear seat gunner could be seen very clearly on the low and close flying plane. All this taking place in just a few minutes or less. The plane was paying no attention to the St. Louis or Honolulu tied to a slip, no fire was coming from them. What stands out in my mind was in frustration "One of the sailors" grabbed up some potatoes sitting there from a food break out work party and was throwing same at the passing plane.

      Captain Rood was on the bridge in PJ’s, in contact with the engine room. Apparently there had been work on some kind of valve in the engine room, and this work had to be completed before steam could be gotten up. Captain Rood went personally down to the engine room trip after trip to speed things up, then back to the Bridge. Making the trip up and down the ladders several times. Captain Rood was always in touch with all events taking place. A good ships captain. By phone while in the engine room, and completely on top of everything on the bridge.

      By the time the second wave came in, probably in an hour and a half, or so. The ship had steam up and ready to go. Captain Rood was in contact with the squadron commander and had advised the ship was undocking and preparing to leave the Harbor for open sea. The squadron commander, replied it would be impossible and you will never make it with the second wave of planes now attacking. Captain Rood replied "You just watch us" Captain Rood was an excellent ship handler, without the aid of tugs, by direction and superior ship handling the St. Louis backed down out of the slip, made a turn by the burning California and commenced her journey down the channel gathering speed all the time towards the open sea. By the time the St. Louis was steaming down the channel she was doing over 20 knots. All this from a dead cold ship with no fires under the boilers less than two hours before when the attack started.

      The damaged and sinking USS Nevada had beached herself by running her nose aground to allow the channel to stay open. The St. Louis was brought under attack by a strafing plane that was aware of the fact "If the channel could be blocked with sunken shipping, all vessels would be trapped inside the anchorage. The impact of machine gun bullets striking the forward twin 5"38 mount made scars that remained on the ship through its life. "Proud scars" not to be erased. Mount #3 was firing by this time, manually. There being no electric in the mount. The guns, I find were loaded manually and the pointer was kicking them by foot pedal to fire, as directed by the gun captain. I saw splashes out to sea, I suppose that is where the shells were hitting. I did not see a conning tower, but did see the torpedo tracks of 2 incoming torpedo’s. Lucky for us, one exploded on the reef and the other did not explode, but must of went haywire and settled to the bottom.

      I think we were credited with assists on three planes shot down that morning using our 50 caliber machine guns and 1.1 anti aircraft guns. All these events happened so fast they are on and off quickly. Some stands out in my mind, I’m sure many other writable events will surface.

Internet from John L Du Bosque

Just received the Hubble Bubble and as usual enjoyed it much. I went aboard the  St. Louis 7/12/1940 as a S2/c V6 reserve. for 1 year active duty. Ha! Ha!

      Went gun striker as soon as I could get off the deck force. I was a qualified pointer in 5 "38 Mount 3. We had no power on Dec 7^th in the mount, and had to operate every thing by manually Each time a gun was loaded the gun captain would pound me on my back to kick one out. I have wondered many times where some of those shells landed . I did get in two shots at the midget submarine that was challenging our right to exit. If I did not hit it I sure came close.

      On the way to Alaska I made GM 3/c transferred to treasure island in early 1942 for new construction another Ha! Ha! In less than two weeks my name came up for Auckland New Zealand; I went AWOL .

Latest letter from John DuBosque

Feb. 17^th 2000
Dear Jack,

      Received your letter today 2-11-00, nice to hear from you. Yes I was pointer in Mount #3 5"38, Trainer was "LaJune" of Oakland CA, I have not been able to contact him, (Luther Yates ) lives close by, and he has not been able to make contact with him either. You might try Robert Sorries of 3 Bay First St., Islip NY 11751, I think he was in one of the directors maybe Sky Forward.

      You mentioned the gun captain. The "Left" gun captain was (Stinky) Kluseman, BM 2/c, I have no idea who gave the orders to load and fire. We were in a closed mount (no head phones) I just got a slap on the back to kick one out.

      As we cleared the harbor that morning, I saw a torpedo wake, we ran over it, and then I spotted a sub conning tower, so I kicked out two shots, it was just like short range battle practice (close)

Thoughts and memories received from Doug Huggins

      The memory of returning to Pearl Harbor on Wednesday Dec. 10th, 1941 where there were small craft of every description busy cleaning the anchorage of bodies, parts, debris and the damage of indescribable proportions in the harbor and on the still smoldering wreckage of Battleship Row ............The memory of seeing a large portion of the Pacific Battle Fleet lying in ruins in the harbor...........some of us felt ( I did ) that the world as we knew it had ended, and if what lay before us was a harbinger of what was sure to come, then we were not likely to reach the ripe old age that we are now enjoying.......The fact that in spite of such a bleak appearing future, we could each accept what ever fate might befall us.........in other words, it is truly amazing what we can accept when it seems to be inevitable........there were few instances among the thousands of men at Pearl Harbor where panic or fear paralyzed anyone to the point of being unable to respond as expected.

      >There were two instances on board, that I know of, where one man sat down and began writing a letter to his family, then came around and shook hands of goodbye with all hands in the Battle Station and as far as I know he never "Lost it again"..............The second instance was after the attack ended and we were safely at sea, condition II watch was set............when I arrived at my condition II watch station, a man was sitting on the deck with his arms clasped tightly around his drawn up knees, and he was shivering as though he was having a severe chill.............One of these men was an officer and one was an enlisted man..............The officer was promptly transferred from the ship, and several months later I met him on the streets of San Francisco. We talked and he told me that he was now in charge of an armed guard crew on a merchant ship...........so obviously his panic had been short lived...............these two instances show that we never really know exactly how we will respond to a set of circumstances .............But.............in the vast majority of cases our inbred instincts of survival and drilled shipboard training will bring out the best in us almost every time....................

      Thoughts of "Doug" Huggins,  Lucky Lou Treasurer

 Excerpts from Stan Kotovsky letter

What came to mind as I' m writing is the remarks made by one of our guys at the convention, concerning his four visits with Captain Rood.

      Two things I remember were about him asking Commander Fink if he had given the order to prepare to get underway at Pearl Harbor. When he found out he hadn't given the order either Rood decided the crew had done it on their own much to their credit. The other was that it was late afternoon before he realized he was still dressed in his pajamas.

 excerpts from Gunners Mate, Charles I. Loud

 "Quote"

 Sunday morning, Dec. 7^th held for me prospects of a day of liberty in Honolulu, so I was up and breakfasted by 7 A.M.

 "When the bombing started just before eight" I just naturally ran for my gun mount and started shooting.  Bombs from the attacking Japanese aircraft exploded close to the ship next to the St. Louis (USS Honolulu) "but they missed us" no damage occurred.

      In the middle of all that, the thing that bothered me the most wasn’t the bombing. In the rush to get the ship moving, the crew just chopped away the lines holding our beautiful personnel ladder on the side of the ship and it just sank into the water.

      I had spent hours and hours polishing the beautiful wood and brass ladder, and my heart went right to the bottom with it.

      ;Unquote

Remembrances of Ellie Smith

 I was a signalman on December 7^th, 1941 and remember standing on the "Signal Bridge" and watching the happenings.

When GQ was sounded, I jumped out of my rack and said "I know I am not going to re-enlist when they start having GQ on Sunday morning.

 When we got out to sea, we got orders to join the other ships and seek out the enemy, sure glad we didn’t find them.      I remember the St. Louis having a gunnery "E" for exceptional firing on target range. In those days a turret or 5"mount received extra pay as a reward for this kind of shooting which was don in competition with the Fleet. These large letters were painted for all to see, on all main battery and AA 5" mounts. This was not duplicated on any other ship in our fleet.

Excerpts from Earl G. Hensley

      On Dec 7^th, 1941 Hensley was an 18 year old ammunition passer aboard the St. Louis. I had just heard the call to colors while I was scrubbing clothes in a topside washroom when I heard the planes come in" recalled Hensley. "I wondered why there was a drill on Sunday morning"   When he saw the bombs falling nearby in the harbor, though, he scrambled to join the gun crew at his anti-aircraft station as the ship opened fire.

      "You know" ‘Commence Firing’ is a serious command, the former seaman reflected. But all the ship's guns were firing before the captain even got up to the bridge. Everybody knew it was no drill.

      The "St. Louis", which received no casualties and only minor damage in the attack, was dubbed "Lucky Lou" for the remainder of the war.

Excerpts from Captain Raphael Semmes USN (Ret.)  (Ships Aviation)

      Our airplanes were at Ford Island since the ship had just come into the Navy Yard. When I returned to the ship that morning during the attack, Capt. Rood was preparing to get the ship underway. He told Lt(jg) Dick Jack (then Senior Aviator) to proceed to Ford Island with the aviators how ever we could get there. The way turned out to be hitching a ride from a passing motor whaleboat. Witnessed the capsizing of the Oklahoma, then made our way past battleship row, then aflame and sinking. Passed through Fleet Landing waiting room on Ford Island side, for a drink of water from fountain there. (Returned next day - nothing left but the pipes to the fountain - waiting room burned down.)

      Planes all damaged from falling shrapnel and concrete from the ramps, but damage mostly superficial - holes in fabric, etc. All were later repaired and in commission by the evening of the 8th. When the destroyer Shaw blew up in dry dock, I dived for a drainage ditch for protection and lost my new officer's cap my wife had given me. In the confusion I never recovered it.

      On the afternoon of the 7th we manned SOCS with 100 lb. bombs to repel a supposed Japanese landing force off Barber's Point. This was soon found to be a false report and the launch was cancelled. Spent the night at the B.O.Q.  - firing going on all night. Several planes from Enterprise (then at sea) shot down attempting to land at Ford Island.

      Predawn on 8 Dec. I took off with about 10 SOC and OS2U seaplanes for 200 nautical mile radius search mission all sectors around Pearl. Just as we were nearly clear of harbor on climb out, many guns in harbor opened up. I was next to last plane. The one behind me seemed engulfed in tracers, but somehow he made it through. On return from search mission was fired at by army machine guns deployed along each road on West side of Oahu at designated entry point for our return. Apparently, they didn't have the word. Rear seat gunner observed fire and called to me. I dived for the deck and hedge hopped into the harbor safely. One 50 cal. hole was found in tail. This airplane and rear crewman were from another ship as our planes were still being worked on.

      After Pearl, ST. LOUIS spent some time in convoy duty then joined up with YORKTOWN and ENTERPRISE and sailed from San Diego for the Marshall and Gilbert Islands where the carrier planes made raids. This strike was the first offensive action of U.S. forces in the war. The SOC mission, as dictated in message received in the ST. LOUIS from R Adm. Frank Jack Fletcher in YORKTOWN (R. Adm. William F. Halsey was in ENTERPRISE); Form defensive low altitude patrol around ships to defend against torpedo plane attack. LUCKILY, there was none.

 A "Pearl Harbor tugboat an example of endangered pieces of history"

      The rusting tugboat "HOGA", the only Navy vessel left from the attack on Pearl Harbor, is one of the nation's 11 most seriously endangered historic places, the National Trust for Historic Preservation’s says.

      The 100-foot "HOGA faces the scrap heap if funds can't be raised to restore it to the condition it was in when Japanese bombers flew over Honolulu on Dec 7, 1941, dragging the United States into WW II. The ship "represents a pivotal part of our military heritage" the trust said in a list of the endangered sites.

      The "HOGA" helped beach the burning battleship Nevada, which was hit by bombs while trying to reach the open sea. Running the larger ship aground thwarted enemy in their efforts to sink the Nevada in a channel and bottle up Pearl Harbor.

 Chew, Seaman 1st Class

It seems like yesterday:

      I remember December 7, 1941 so very well. I was a 19-Year old Seaman 1st Class and a gunner on a heavy 1.1 machine gun aboard the Light Cruiser, The USS St. Louis.

      We had just returned from a short stint with the Asiatic Fleet and were moored outboard of the USS Honolulu, flag ship of CRU-DIV #9. That morning the machine guns began to be heard along with bombs exploding. The General Alarm called us all to our "General Quarters". and our bugler sounded Air Defense.

      We manned our battle stations, as the Japanese torpedo planes flew over dropping their torpedo’s which were aimed at Battleship row, just off our fantail. We could see clearly the Pilots faces as they flew overhead. Of course we were "cold-iron,"  being in the "Yard," but our magnificent "Black Gang" rose to the challenge and we had steam up in short order.

      The skipper ordered all lines to be let go and he backed that 10,000 ton ship out into Merry Point Channel without any tug assistance. He spun her around and headed for Pearl Harbor channel, building up speed.

      We went past the burning and sinking USS Nevada We were attacked by a Japanese Submarine as we neared the channel entrance. She fired two fish at us but fortunately they both hit a coral reef which was between us, they both exploded on the reef , harmlessly. Our #3, 5 inch mount put a round in the Jap’s conning tower and St. Louis was free of the land.

      Our wonderful Captain took his ship to sea in the best traditions on the United States Navy, to seek out our enemy. Captain George Rood, USN – a warrior if there ever was one, St. Louis was the first "major" ship to sortie that morning. She was involved in many actions in the days and years that followed, and became known as the "Lucky Lou". I left her as a Chief Boatswains Mate in early 1945 to become a destroyer man, but the St. Louis was my first ship and has always will be in my heart.

        JOHN J. O’NEILL F2, WHALEBOAT ENGINEER -- USS ST. LOUIS (CL49), DEC. , 1941

      Our whaleboat crew consisting of coxswain, bow hook and I, the engineer, were tied up at dockside at the liberty landing at Meri-Point having delivered a five-hand dock sweeping party. The three of us were enjoying a visit with the shore patrol there at their shack while awaiting completion of the detail.

       We watched some high flying aircraft over Ford Island without too much concern. Just about that time bombs began to explode on the island, torpedo planes with that large red circle on their sides appeared right of the dock headed straight for battleship row. Stunned and somewhat bewildered we watched in disbelief for an undetermined amount of time. The planes were so close we could see if the pilots were with or without beard.

       Seeing the terrible destruction raining down upon our battleships, we jumped into our boat to go to the aid of those in the water, probably ¼ mile away. As we left the dock we saw our ship, the St. Louis, slowly backing down away from dockside to get underway. We decided to catch her and man our battle stations before she moved out to sea.

       A Jacobs Ladder was lowered to us for boarding by the boatswain mate. As we scrambled up the ladder, I realized I had forgotten to turn off that diesel engine in the whaleboat. She just bobbed and weaved as the screws churned up the waters. ( If I can find any humor in all of this, it would be those many months later spent aboard that great ship. Anytime I was called up for any reason at all, I figured "Oh! Oh! I’m really in trouble for losing that boat!")

       The three of us ran to our battle stations. My station was at the mid-ship repair station, one deck down, being below the main deck, I could witness no more of that terrible scene. I know we had to lay to for a bit while the USS Nevada, bruised and beaten, beached herself to keep from sinking.

       As we exited the harbor at high speed we rammed what was thought to be a midget submarine, putting a hole in the bulkhead of our chain locker. I have never read anything to confirm that though. We did require repair later at Mare Island in the area of the chain locker. Capt. Rood (a truly great man in my book) was on the bridge in his pajamas, his hat with all those scrambled eggs on his head and a 45 strapped to his side.

       I’m told that it was the first task force ever formed as we gathered whatever ships we could find with guns. Then we proceeded to seek out the enemy fleet. We were dubbed "The Lucky Lou" about this time. I don’t know if it was because of our escape during that sneak attack or maybe because we never did find the enemy.

       Let me add this final note. We re-entered the harbor three days later. Through all of this I can’t say I felt true fear. However, as we sailed back into the harbor those few days later, and slowly drifted by the simmering destruction that lay there before our eyes, my knees weakened to a point that made me grab hold of the life line to steady myself. Did I mention that I was 17 years of age at this time? It was a truly sad experience that my God allowed me to survive.

      John J. O’Neill, F1/c-WT1/c - B Division - Kirkland WA - Aboard 1941,1942