Herschel R. Riley US Navy USS Nevada |
I was aboard the USS Nevada (BB-36) during the Pearl Harbor attack. My "hitch" was from November 2, 1940 through December 8, 1946. It began in San Diego Naval Training Station. Mine was a voluntary enlistment. I was regular Navy. I served aboard three ships, the Nevada, the Indianapolis (a Heavy Cruiser), and the USS Sperry (Submarine Tender). I also did 18 months at a separation base in the Philippines (1945-1946), near Manila. I had 3 close calls (what I consider close). First, on finishing boot camp, we were lined up in alphabetical order for our choice of ship or duty, I had chosen to go aboard the USS Arizona, but when they got to the "R's" and to me, the Arizona's compliment was full (3/4th of the Arizona personnel lost their lives at Pearl Harbor), then I chose the Nevada. The Nevada, tied up at quay (key) #8, was the last ship in column, just astern of the Arizona. We took 8 bombs and one torpedo. Now my 2nd stroke of luck. The torpedo plane squadron commander had chosen (with his 8 planes) the port stern of the Nevada, where I was ensconced 5 decks below in the "N" (Navigation) division. My duty station was on the bridge steering the ship with our panoramic window view. I loved the bridge, BUT the oil on the 35' deep harbor waters was aflame, sending up balls of black smoke, and the Jap commander couldn't see the ship, and pulled out and hit the port bow (my battle station was in our compartment on a lever that switched from steam to electric steering) with no switching to do, I did what I compulsively do "write". I took minutes and second records (with a red pencil and paper) of every sound, bomb hit, forward, or reverse movement of the screws (these huge screw shafts ran openly throughout compartment and we had to step over them going from port to starboard. They jockeyed the propellers to move the ship from the quay and get underway. They had cut the hawsers with an axe. I would note all the speaker announcements, all the while, I was writing with my right hand, I was holding onto a chain with my left. In a tier of 5 bunks, when the torpedo hit (killing many forward) it knocked everyone in our compartment (about 20) flat, except me holding onto the chain. The "cheer up" ship (the Nevada) so labeled because it was the only ship to get under way. But, a discussion ensued between the OD and our chief quartermaster, Sedberry as to whether we should take her to sea, because the Nevada was sinking and if it sank at the mouth; the harbor would be blocked of all traffic. Sedberry had his way and the ship was beached. It took 2 days to sink and rest on the bottom with 4 feet of the main deck free board. It remained on the bottom for 2 years and was raised, recommissioned and was in many other engagements including the Normandy invasion. I returned to it after it was raised to retrieve my notes, but the seawater had destroyed everything in my locker. We slept the first night topside in army cots. The mosquitoes were awful. Then 4 nights in a bowling alley. We tried to notify our parents that we were okay, however mine never knew I was alive until they got a little picture a month later, posted just one day (the 6th) before the attack. I was assigned to the USS Indianapolis (my 3rd escape), later tragically sunk by a Jap submarine after delivering the bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. People ask if we should have done this. We say it shortened the war, saved many lives and if there had been no Pearl, there would never have been Hiroshima! The Indy (later granted the "Presidential Unit citation") lost most of its crew floundering 6 days in the water with sharks and some going crazy diving to their doom to lost cities and lights they imagined below. Capt McVey (Charles), was unjustly court-martialed, committed suicide and later vindicated (for not following a zig-zag course). He had asked for an escort and was denied coming back to the states. Though aboard the Indy only 6 months, it was such great duty. She was a magnificent warrior! During this 6 months, in a task force in the S/W Pacific, we were attacked by 6 Japanese bombers. The bombs falling harmlessly in the sea, but Lt. Edwin H. O'Hare off in a carrier based "Hell Cat" with us, shot down every last bomber. We were cheering like crazy as the bombers fell in sparkling, glittering, sun splattered pieces. And so, O'Hare Airport in Chicago. Then I went aboard the Sperry. I had wanted another battleship and in dry-dock someone hollered down to me, "Hey, Riley, you want the Sperry?" I thought he said a "Ferry" and I thought Lord, what could be better than duty on a Ferry in the US of A and become a shallow-water sailor! "Yes, yes", I said and ended up on the sub tender and became a torpedo man, a far cry from the good old bridge. Anyway, we were tied up at Midway Island for 6 months during my two year on her and served in many areas before being based in PI and so to my honorable discharge on December 8, 1946. It was a great experience. In May of 1942, we were (on the Sperry) shelling Bougainvillea Island (Jap held at the time), I was on the fantail, supplying ammo to a 20 mm and during what was supposed to be a dry run, a 5 in .38 went off with the nuzzle about 8' over my head and the concussion put me in the sick bay. I'd lost my hearing with a constant ringing in my ears. Luckily, my eardrums weren't busted and in 2 days the ringing stopped and I was released. I applied for a purple heart, but needed 2 witnesses. The force had ripped my pant legs up around my butt and the sand on the deck blasted and burned my legs. I'm a lucky feller. It was a great experience. The Nevada was chosen originally for the Peace signing. President Truman opted for the Missouri and changed all that. There were many heroes in the war. Ed Hill, our chief warrant and deck officer, was blown over the side, climbed back, blown over again and killed. He received the Medal of Honor. I can still hear him when you were too slow, "Today, today!" and if you messed up, "Fine, fine!" I still hear the crying, the cussing, the rage and the praying and the silence, many asking for a cigarette as they lay dying. Skin burned so bad it came off in your hands. To my buddies who lived in the war, where proximity rubbed raw and made us brothers, we were youths, almost kids, some whose lives flashed brightly and were gone, that memory nurtures. From the humblest of beginnings I chose. I know not where I go But, as we travel life's old, forgotten paths, I will see you in the sweet by and by. |
Information provided by Herschel R. Riley. |
