Sailor Stories: A USS CASSIN YOUNG Virtual Tour

Welcome to "Sailor Stories: A USS CASSIN YOUNG Virtual Tour." This tour features the stories of the commissioned officers and enlisted men who served aboard the ship during World War II and the Cold War (1950s).

In the 1970s and 1980s, crew members sat down with Boston National Historical Park staff to record oral histories so the park could share their stories, and those of the ship, for generations to come.

Guided by these oral histories, this tour aims to highlight the crew members’ perspectives, experiences, sensory memories, and emotions. Please note, at times, the sailors used strong language to describe tense moments aboard.

Follow this tour by reading each point in order. To do so, use the arrows at the top of this text panel to travel between points.

If you are interested in exploring the uses of different compartments of the ship, visit this overview virtual tour.

For ranger-led videos that describe the ship’s operation, weaponry, and living quarters, please visit: USS CASSIN YOUNG Video Tour.

To continue with this tour, please click on the right arrow in the top right corner of this box.

Sailors from across the United States lived, worked, and died aboard USS CASSIN YOUNG, a Fletcher-class destroyer that served in World War II and the early years of the Cold War.

Through their tireless efforts, these men brought life to the ship. As one of CASSIN YOUNG’s Cold War era commanding officers said, "Without the crew, it's just a bunch of steel, lead cables and pipes and glass and electronics. It's not worth a damn. It's the crew that makes it alive…That gives it a character, a soul, and a heart."¹

The following tour shares the stories and memories of a handful of the sailors who served aboard this ship during World War II and the early years of the Cold War. Explore their experiences—what they saw, heard, smelled, and felt—as they lived and worked aboard CASSIN YOUNG. Delve into the sailors’ routine, hazards, and monotony of work, watch, and drill. Learn how they spent their time off-duty and forged deep and lasting friendships. Understand their anxiety and fear as they led daring rescues at sea and experienced death and devastation in battle during World War II.

According to one World War II officer, "We were a group that used the ship as an extension of ourselves to fight the war... It wasn't a group of people that got together to fight, to run the ship; it was a family..."²

Image

Caption

Crew members on deck, c. 1944-1945. (BOSTC 1616)

Visual Description

Sailors arranged for a group photo on the foredeck with the bow in the background. Two rows are standing, one row is kneeling, and another row sits on the ground. They wear their work dungarees and Navy "Dixie Cup" style hats.

Footnotes

Rear Admiral Thomas J. Rudden, interview by Francy K. Bockoven, August 13, 1983, transcript, USS CASSIN YOUNG (DD793) Oral History Project, 1942-1986, BOSTC 3426, Boston National Historical Park Archives, 29.
Paul M. Jones and William Snyder, interview by Brian Sullivan, August 23, 1980, transcript, USS CASSIN YOUNG (DD793) Oral History Project, 1942-1986, BOSTC 3426, Boston National Historical Park Archives, 14.

As World War II raged on at the end of 1943, the first crew of USS CASSIN YOUNG began to assemble in San Pedro, California. The members represented 44 out of the 48 states of the country.¹ Some had arrived weeks earlier to help prepare the ship for duty, while others came merely days before the commissioning. Their experiences varied. Those with wartime experience now faced a new assignment. On the other hand, as Fire Controlman 2^nd Class Sumner Wheeler remembered, "I think [for] some of the people it was the first time they’d ever seen the ocean!"²

The commissioning on December 31, 1943, marked the beginning of the ship's service. Mrs. Eleanor M. Young, the widow of Captain Cassin Young, attended the commissioning as the sponsor of the ship. Storekeeper 2^nd Class William Spangler recollected meeting Mrs. Young on that day. While standing on guard duty by the radar room, Mrs. Young walked by and "she turned to me and said 'Take care of my ship,' which made my day."³

Gunner's Mate 2^nd Class Heath Haggerty vividly described how it felt aboard USS CASSIN YOUNG whenever the ship left port:

Those first swells would hit you and you'd feel the wind blowing in your face, and you'd feel those propellers turning... the screws. And you could feel the power in that thing, you know. And it actually, you know, it felt good. And then you'd turn into the wind and you'd get a bit of the spray in your face and you'd taste the salt... Boy, that was a good feeling! And you could feel the vibrations, you know, from the engines... You could feel the power… and you felt you were really...you felt like you were really living.⁴

Once out in the open water, the crew employed their training and began their life at sea.

Image

Caption

Commissioning of USS CASSIN YOUNG at Bethlehem Steel on December 31, 1943. (National Archives, 19-NN-117682)

Visual Description

A crowd of people stand on a pier in an organized fashion. They face the stern of a ship next to the pier, which has sailors in uniform standing at attention.

Footnotes

William J. Craig, USS Cassin Young: Fletcher Class Destroyer DD793 (United Kingdom: Fonthill Media, 2013), 13.
Sumner Wheeler, interview by Francy K. Bockoven, March 8, 1980, transcript, USS CASSIN YOUNG (DD793) Oral History Project, 1942-1986, BOSTC 3426, Boston National Historical Park Archives, 4.
William Spangler, interview by Jenny Beaujean, August 13, 1983, audio, USS CASSIN YOUNG (DD793) Oral History Project, 1942-1986, BOSTC 3426, Boston National Historical Park Archives, tape 1, 2:42.
Heath Haggerty, interview by Jeniffer Beltz, August 12, 1983, transcript and audio, USS CASSIN YOUNG (DD793) Oral History Project, 1942-1986, BOSTC 3426, Boston National Historical Park Archives, transcript, 35, tape 3, 1:51.

Whether serving in World War II or the early years of the Cold War, sailors aboard USS CASSIN YOUNG trained and worked together to help this destroyer perform its primary mission and duties. These included: fleet defense; anti-submarine warfare; anti-aircraft defense; radar picket; screening larger ships; shore bombardment; and search and rescue.

Operating 24 hours a day, seven days a week, the crew ensured the ship remained in working order. Through repetition and drills, such as General Quarters, the crew also maintained a constant state of readiness for battle.

Every crew member and officer had jobs to complete day-in and day-out. They rotated between shifts of work, watch, and rest. A posted "Plan of the Day," as seen here, helped maintain this schedule. As Quartermaster 1^st Class James Marrs explained, "It was very ordered, very disciplined."¹

Both work and companionship helped sustain the crew during extended periods at sea. Signalman 3^rd Class "Temporary" William Downs emphasized:

And you had the routine to keep you going. Plus the fact that having only 290 or 300 men aboard, you became very closely attached to one another as you can well imagine sleeping and living that close together and so I think the comradeship of the whole thing as I recall helped very much.²

Everyone had a role to play and the crew worked together as a highly efficient and organized team.

Images

Captions

Crew members analyzing data in the Combat Information Center, 1956. (BOSTC 3072) A sailor operating a lathe in the machine shop, 1956-1957. (BOSTC 3074)

Visual Descriptions

Image 1: Two sailors looking down at a screen intensely in a compartment surrounded by other pieces of equipment. Another sailor sits behind them with headphones on.

Image 2: A sailor using a lathe machine with one of his hands visible on a piece of the equipment.

Footnotes

James Marrs, interview by Connie Witherby, August 14, 1983, audio, USS CASSIN YOUNG (DD793) Oral History Project, 1942-1986, BOSTC 3426, Boston National Historical Park Archives, tape 1, 22:27.
William Downs and Oliver Perry, interview by Ruth Wheeler, August 23, 1980, audio, USS CASSIN YOUNG (DD793) Oral History Project, 1942-1986, BOSTC 3426, Boston National Historical Park Archives, tape 2, 10:08.

The captain, or commanding officer (CO), primarily stayed here on the bridge. Here, he directed the ship’s movements, oversaw the ship’s operations, and made critical decisions in the midst of battle. Commanding Officer Rear Admiral Thomas J. Rudden recalled, "I felt like a conductor conducting a symphony orchestra!"¹

At times, the CO stayed awake for hours, occasionally resting in his chair in the pilothouse. Or he stayed in his nearby sea cabin, ready to respond to any emergency.

The enlisted men of CASSIN YOUNG deeply respected the captain’s authority. Torpedoman 2^nd Class Dave O’Connell described how he felt being in his captain’s presence when on the bridge:

...if that captain ever walked by me and spoke to me, I’d start shivering. Because he was God! That’s it. He looked like... he could point his finger at you and have you done away with and that’s the way he appeared.²

Heath Haggerty held this same view of all the officers: "I know the officers... they were God." Haggerty chuckled and continued, "You know, a guy that was twenty-five or thirty, you know, he seemed like an old man to you."³

Some officers, especially the executive officer (XO), recognized the responsibility they had over the enlisted men. Executive Officer Paul M. Jones described his role:

The executive officer had the combination of duties of a policeman, a priest as confessor, a mother for taking care of a kid that was really homesick, a father for punishing a kid that was doing something he shouldn't do. We were supposed to act like the father-image for all the kids.⁴

Image

Caption

Officers on the bridge in 1953. (BOSTC 3069)

Visual Description

Officers standing on the exterior bridge looking out. One wears a cap and smokes a cigarette.

Footnotes

Rear Admiral Thomas J. Rudden, interview by Francy K. Bockoven, 29.
Dave O’Connell, interview by Francy Bockoven, May 29, 1980, transcript and audio, USS CASSIN YOUNG (DD793) Oral History Project, 1942-1986, BOSTC 3426, Boston National Historical Park Archives, transcript 24, tape 3, 1:09.
Haggerty, interview by Jeniffer Beltz, transcript, 22, tape 2, 15:41.
Jones and Snyder, interview by Brian Sullivan, 8.

To successfully direct the ship, the commanding officer relied on the expertise of the navigator who worked here in the Chart Room. Through the use of charts, maps, and other equipment that helped identify the location of stars, the navigator monitored the ship's position at sea. Navigator George Finnegan recalled how he conducted this job during World War II:

You took your morning sights within a half-hour after dawn. You would go up in the bridge and take your morning star sights and plot your morning position. Then at noon... when the sun would be directly overhead from a longitudinal point of view, you would take your latitude position at noon... And then in the evening, within a half an hour after sunset, just before dark, you'd take your evening star sights.¹

He repeated this routine every day, and when moving with a fleet, he compared his position with the navigators of the other ships.

Navigators also faced challenges when charts were outdated or if they missed a star sight due to weather. Finnegan described a scary stretch in the South China Sea when CASSIN YOUNG operated out of the fleet’s communication range and clouds covered the sky for days:

I think we went for several days without ever getting a star sight, so it was completely dead reckoning. And I remember Captain Ailes used to come down to the chart room often and ask me, 'Honestly, you know where we are?' And I would tell him, 'Honestly, no I don’t. We're in the South China Sea somewhere.'²

Image

Caption

The navigator using a radio-based LORAN (LOng RAnge Navigation) to help monitor the ship's position at sea, 1956-57. (BOSTC 3074)

Visual Description

A sailor operates a machine up on a high shelf that has dials and he looks at a circular screen that is attached to it.

Footnotes

George T. Finnegan, interview by Peter Steele, May 18, 1979, transcript and audio, USS CASSIN YOUNG (DD793) Oral History Project, 1942-1986, BOSTC 3426, Boston National Historical Park Archives, transcript, 3, tape 1, 5:11.
Finnegan, interview by Peter Steele, transcript, 5, tape 1, 9:30.

Gunner's mates such as Heath Haggerty had the responsibility of maintaining and operating various weapons on the ship. Explaining his duties when not at General Quarters, Haggerty said:

It was maintenance on the guns and the mounts. The painting and scraping and cleaning...We just kept the guns up. We were maintenance men, actually. There was plenty to do, because you were always fighting the rust, you know, and the salt water, and it just never ends. You go from one end to the other and then you start in again.¹

Haggerty described the close quarters when stationed inside the gun mount:

In one of those five-inch guns, why in the mount you've got, let's see, there's a pointer, trainer, sight setter, fuse setter, first loader, powder man, hot shell man and the gun captain. There's eight guys in there. You know, it's pretty tight quarters. It wasn't so much then when I was young. I could go through that thing like a spaghetti, you know. But I go in there now and I... Sometimes you'd spend days in there. We all had a little spot to sit in. But I look at it now and it amazes me. It was so crowded, you know. Of course, we were skinnier then.²

Image

Caption

Sailor inside a gun mount, 1953. (BOSTC 3069)

Visual Description

A sailor sitting inside a gun mount resting his arm on the window opening and looking out.

Footnotes

Haggerty, interview by Jeniffer Beltz, transcript, 2-3.
Haggerty, interview by Jeniffer Beltz, transcript, 3.

Even outside of combat, crew members on CASSIN YOUNG faced danger in their routine work. Some hazards included the superheated steam powering the ship's engines, and the live ammunition of the weapons systems, such as the 5"/38 projectiles in this room. Dave O'Connell described a close call in the ammunition handling room:

...at 19 or 20 years old, nothing was dangerous. Really and truly, but there was always live ammunition around, 300 pounds of dynamite here and 600 pounds over here, but really and truly, you never really thought much about it. There was one particular time, myself and one of my shipmates, we were going into the after compartment and the water, the sea, was very, very, rough and we walked in and there was the five inch 38 projectiles had broken loose from the racks on the wall, and they weighed 55 pounds apiece and if they ever exploded, they’d blow you right out of the side of the ship. But you just went over, picked them up, put them back on the rack and forget about it, and just don’t think of it. But at my age now, I don’t think I’d do it!¹

Footnotes

O'Connell, interview by Francy Bockoven, transcript, 8.

In the sick bay, a medical officer attended to any injuries caused by the ship's many hazards. Here, he also treated minor illnesses such as headaches, the flu, and sore throats. While stationed in the Pacific during World War II, tropical weather caused problems for the ship's crew. According to Doctor Eugene Sevensma:

When we got down to the tropics, you know, there wasn't any air conditioning then, and where you’re hot twenty-four hours a day and just sweating all the time, the skin just breaks down very quickly, and just about everybody on the ship had impetigo [a bacterial skin infection].¹

Sevensma treated the crew’s infections with gentian violet, a dye that killed bacteria on the skin. He recalled, "You get these people just painted purple all over and they look like heck, and plus it gets in your clothes and it's hard to wash out."²

Heath Haggerty echoed the same sentiment, "They'd paint you with that purple stuff, and with their old raggedy clothes on, if that wasn't the wildest looking bunch of crumbs you ever saw!"³

Image

Caption

A medical crew member giving a sailor a check-up, 1956-57. (BOSTC 3074)

Visual Description

A medical crew member uses a flashlight and a tongue depressor to look inside a sailor’s mouth.

Footnotes

Eugene Sevensma, interview by Francy Bockoven, August 23, 1980, transcript and audio, USS CASSIN YOUNG (DD793) Oral History Project, 1942-1986, BOSTC 3426, Boston National Historical Park Archives, 13.
Sevensma, interview by Francy Bockoven, 14.
Haggerty, interview by Jeniffer Beltz, 36.

Frequently used as a living room and a dining room for officers, the wardroom also served as a conference room, courtroom, and classroom. In times of need, the ship’s doctor could turn this room into a makeshift operating room. Above the table is a large surgical lamp which the doctor and pharmacists' mates could use during surgery.

One night, a crew member developed a "hot appendix" – or, appendicitis – that required surgery in the wardroom. Eugene Sevensma recalled performing the surgery without the help of another doctor: "It was kind of a lonely feeling. I had to not only do the appendectomy, but I had to give the guy his spinal anesthetic and turn him over and do the operation."¹

His assistant, Chief Pharmacist Mate Raymond Lorichon, remembered the surgery and the rolling of the ship as they operated: "We operated in the wardroom, and that night, the doctor and myself – I was his assistant – we were strapped to the table, to stay with the patient… it was pitching us all over the place, but we got through it by being strapped right in and being very careful. Its touchy, very touchy surgery under those conditions."²

Footnotes

Sevensma, interview by Francy Bockoven, 14-15.
Raymond Lorichon, interview by Brian Sullivan, August 13, 1983, audio. USS CASSIN YOUNG (DD793) Oral History Project, 1942-1986, BOSTC 3426, Boston National Historical Park Archives, tape 1, 7:03.

One third of the crew aboard the ship serviced and operated the machinery and equipment in the engine and fire rooms. CASSIN YOUNG had two engine rooms and two fire rooms. This built-in redundancy ensured that the ship could still function if one of the rooms sustained damage or became inoperable.

To propel CASSIN YOUNG at full speed, the boilers in the fire rooms needed to produce superheated steam. When doing so, Assistant Engineer Officer Gary MacDougal explained how it would:

...get so hot down there you couldn't go down the ladder, your hands would burn on the rails. And everything would just be vibrating at the top levels, and you would be sure something was going to go.¹

Machinist Mate Brendan Doyle, remembering his responsibility over the ship's engine, said, "That was my baby. I was told to take care of it and that's what I had to do."²

Doyle spent the majority of his time in the engine room, even outside of his work obligations. He recalled:

I used to stay in the engine room all the time. I had a cot down there; I hardly ever slept in the crew's quarters. It was cooler in the engine room. So I was there at all times, and when we had our general quarters, you know, when I wasn't at watch and I'd be down there, you know, I'd be playing pinochle with somebody. We would stay down there.³

Images

Captions

Crew members monitor the ship's engine by looking at the throttle board in the engine room, 1956. (BOSTC 3072) Others take readings in the fire rooms, 1956-57. (BOSTC 3074)

Visual Descriptions

Image 1: Two sailors looking at a large control panel with gauges, dials, and indicator meters.

Image 2: One sailor holds a clipboard and takes notes while another sits on a barrel in the background. Pipes and gauges surround them.

Footnotes

Gary MacDougal, interview by Francy Bockoven and Peter Steele, June 18, 1980, transcript. USS CASSIN YOUNG (DD793) Oral History Project, 1942-1986, BOSTC 3426. Boston National Historical Park Archives, 20.
Brendan Doyle, interview by Francy Bockoven, August 24, 1980, transcript and audio, USS CASSIN YOUNG (DD793) Oral History Project, 1942-1986, BOSTC 3426. Boston National Historical Park Archives, 5.
Doyle, interview by Francy Bockoven, 4-5.

Two berthing areas housed the enlisted crew on the ship. More than 300 sailors slept in the quarters during World War II, compared to around 220 sailors during the Cold War. Dave O'Connell recalled:

You couldn't have too many fat men there, you know. I slept in the top rack, and that was the best one, because you had two fellows underneath you. But, it was crowded conditions, and you couldn’t turn around unless you were bumping into somebody, and yet you just accepted it. You just got used to stepping over this one, or somebody pulling their feet in, or asking this fellow if he'll lift up his rack so that you can get into your locker.¹

Poor ventilation of the berthing area caused issues for some crew members. As Heath Haggerty explained:

But it was so darn hot, I couldn't sleep down there...we didn't have any air conditioning. We had vents, and they blew air into the compartments, but it was totally inadequate. So guys would punch holes in them and divert a little onto their own bunk.²

Some sailors during WWII avoided the crew's quarters and resolved to sleep at their workstations. Torpedoman 3^rd Class Fred Swartz slept topside between the torpedo tubes and used a life jacket as a pillow.³

Haggerty remembered the difficulty of sleeping in berthing, and how he tried to sleep elsewhere:

...I'd wake up with a headache and I felt horrible...I felt like I had been beaten up, you know...I just couldn't take the air down there. It was horrible...I slept wherever I could find a spot. Cause I just, I couldn't sleep down below.⁴

Later renovations of the ship, completed in the Charlestown Navy Yard, improved living conditions for sailors during the 1950s. For example, the green tile added on the deck here helped make the berthing area cooler.

Image

Caption

A sailor rests in the cramped bunks in berthing. (BOSTC 1578)

Visual Description

A view in between bunks looking from a sailor’s leg to his head in the background as he lies down.

Footnotes

O’Connell, interview by Francy Bockoven, transcript, 21.
Haggerty, interview by Jeniffer Beltz, transcript, 10-11.
Fred Swartz, interview by Gail Hagstrom, August 14, 1983, audio, USS CASSIN YOUNG (DD793) Oral History Project, 1942-1986, BOSTC 3426, Boston National Historical Park Archives, 20:41.
Haggerty, interview by Jeniffer Beltz, transcript, 10-11.

While the enlisted men slept in the close quarters of berthing, the officers had their own sleeping compartments located here in Officer's Country, such as this one. Additional quarters line the passageway outside of this compartment. The commanding officer, however, had two cabins, one by the pilothouse and another on the main deck.

The separate living spaces for commissioned officers and the rest of the crew reinforced the hierarchy of the ship and the Navy. This military structure maintained a strict chain of command, upheld order and discipline, and ensured operational privacy. It also provided mental reprieve for all ranks and ratings, meaning that the enlisted sailors could focus on their duties and rely on their officers for decisions and orders.

As one of the previous XOs of USS CASSIN YOUNG, Paul Jones explained this separation and structure in his own way:

The Navy is designed... where the captain is isolated from the crew. Now, and in a certain respect, the officers are isolated from the crew... There is a barrier built up intentionally, between the officers and the men, and the captain and the whole...So if everybody, no matter what an order is, if it's wrong or if it's right, if everybody follows it, the ship acts as a coordinated unit and works perfectly.¹

Images

Caption

A commanding officer and a junior officer working in their respective quarters, 1956-57. (BOSTC 3074)

Visual Descriptions

Image 1: A naval commanding officer working at his desk looking at materials.

Image 2: A naval junior officer hunched over a typewriter that sits on a little desk. Bunks are in the background.

Footnotes

Jones and Snyder, interview by Brian Sullivan, 10, tape 1, 19:47.

Like their separate living spaces, officers and the enlisted sailors also had separate bathrooms, or heads.

While out at sea, the crew had to be mindful as to how much desalinated water they used because the boilers in the fire room relied on this water to power the engines. Therefore, washing clothes and taking showers could be limited if water supplies ran low. Yeoman 3^rd Class Theodore Johndrow described what it was like taking a shower on board:

You would turn on the water to get yourself wet, and then shut it off and then soap down, and then turn it back on again to get rinsed off to conserve water. Because we didn't have that much water.¹

Johndrow also recalled returning to port after a cruise in the Cold War because of a water shortage due to maintenance issues.

In fact, we came back from that North Atlantic cruise and we were having trouble with our evaporators. They were barely producing enough water to keep the boilers operating. We didn’t have water to drink; nor water to wash dishes with and so forth... There was very little drinking of anything, and no showers. I mean, they could probably smell us coming into port long before we got there!²

Footnotes

Theodore George Johndrow, interview by Diane Diamond, August 14, 1983, transcript, USS CASSIN YOUNG (DD793) Oral History Project, 1942-1986, BOSTC 3426. Boston National Historical Park Archives, 13.
Johndrow, interview by Diane Diamond, 12-13.

As smaller, faster, and lighter ships, destroyers such as CASSIN YOUNG experienced sea swells more so than larger warships.

Brendan Doyle considered being aboard CASSIN YOUNG "a rough life," and that the destroyer "wasn't the smoothest ship in the world."¹ Describing the challenge of moving through the ship during rough seas, Doyle said:

...if we had a heavy storm or anything, in order to get from the after end to the mess hall, they would string a line along the superstructure. You couldn't go on the main deck. You'd wait until the ship rolled a certain way, and then wrapped your arm around a rope and then run. You'd get to the other end before it rolled back.²

Encountering large storms in the Pacific, such as typhoons, intensified the difficulty. Eugene Sevensma remembered the experience:

But just the extreme depression and fatigue. Just fighting this tremendous roll, just twenty-four hours a day, three days in a row. As I say, you don't get seasick, but you had to strap yourself in your bunk so you didn't fall out. But you didn't feel like sleeping, yet you couldn't stay awake; you didn't feel like eating, you couldn't because of the roll; you couldn't concentrate on something like reading. You just totally, it was exhausting, a really strange experience.³

Image

Caption

"Hold picture as if horizon were flat," wrote the photographer on the back of this photo print showing USS CASSIN YOUNG rolling through ocean waves. (BOSTC 1578)

Visual Description

The bow of a destroyer slightly tilting right with waves crashing against the ship and up onto the deck.

Footnotes

Doyle, interview by Francy Bockoven, 7.
Doyle, interview by Francy Bockoven, 7.
Sevensma, interview by Francy Bockoven, 17.

For sailors, one break from the challenges of life aboard would be mealtime. Inside the galley, cooks and stewards worked around the clock to prepare three meals a day for the crew. While at times the ship had limited food supplies, many sailors recalled being satisfied by the food. As Heath Haggerty summarized, "Enough to eat is better than nothing to eat."¹

Crew members, up late at night on watch, found themselves drawn to the galley where cooks made baked goods. As Cook and Baker Bill McGee explained:

they could always smell that bread coming out of that vent. The aroma of bread coming out of the vent next to the galley. And that would just permeate the whole ship, whether you were in port or at sea. And they would always wind their way down to the galley.²

While stationed out at sea, simple treats like fresh fruit became delicacies. Eugene Sevensma remembered, "From time to time we'd get something special like, oh there might be a bunch of apples or oranges, or occasionally strawberries. Those were times of celebration."³

For holidays, such as Thanksgiving, McGee shared how they prepared special meals:

And we always used to give it our best.... We’d have to cook maybe eighteen or twenty turkeys. And of course, the guys wouldn't be rationed. We'd give them as much as they wanted. They could always come back for more during those special days.⁴

The work done in the galley contributed to the camaraderie amongst the crew. Boatswain's Mate 1^st Class Peter Byrum, whose birthday fell two days before Christmas, recalled receiving a birthday cake for the first time while aboard:

I never did get a birthday cake… So this was something new to me. Well, lo and behold, [the cook] went in the bake shop and baked, baked me a cake. And it was a big, huge, big cake.⁵

Images

Captions

A cook baking in the galley, 1956-57. Crew members walking through the "Chow Line" to receive their meals, 1956-57. Sailors enjoying a holiday meal in the mess, 1956-57. (BOSTC 3074)

Visual Descriptions

Image 1: A cook pulls baked goods on a cooking sheet out of an oven.

Image 2: Sailors wait in line as cooks serve them from a buffet line.

Image 3: Sailors enjoying a meal in the mess with a Christmas tree in the background.

Footnotes

Haggerty, interview by Jeniffer Beltz, transcript, 9.
Bill McGee, interview by Francy Bockoven, July 25, 1980, transcript, USS CASSIN YOUNG (DD793) Oral History Project, 1942-1986, BOSTC 3426, Boston National Historical Park Archives, 9-10.
Sevensma, interview by Francy Bockoven, 21.
McGee, interview by Francy Bockoven, 9.
Peter Byrum, Al Melville, and James O’Hara, interview by Francy Bockoven, August 23, 1980, audio, USS CASSIN YOUNG (DD793) Oral History Project, 1942-1986, BOSTC 3426, Boston National Historical Park Archives, tape 1, 21:57.

In between meals, rest, and work, sailors stood watch as part of USS CASSIN YOUNG's 24-hour operation. "Everyday, every four hours, the watch would change," explained Gary MacDougal.¹ The only exception to this continuous four-hour cycle was the dog watch, he described, where, "once a day there was a half-watch to kind of stagger it."² This staggering ensured the crew shared the responsibility of the midnight-to-four watch.

When on watch, the crew bonded and listened to each other's life stories. For example, when stationed on the bridge, seen here, William Spangler recalled, "I remember one night listening to Snyder, Lieutenant Commander Snyder... I heard his life history one night, for some unknown reason, he just stood there and he told me all about it..."³

Dave O'Connell remembered the camaraderie between crew members that helped pass the time during night watch:

...You really couldn't see anything, and the most likely thing you could do at night would be fall asleep. So while you’re on watch, you’d be up there on watch and somebody, oh say, back on the fantail at the depth charges, he’d start telling the story of his life, everybody would be listening. Or somebody else would tell a story or somebody knew a pretty good joke and they’d tell a joke. Just most anything to stay awake. That was, the hardest thing was staying awake at night.⁴

Image

Caption

A sailor on watch wearing a sound-powered telephone to communicate back to the pilot house, 1956. (BOSTC 3072)

Visual Description

A sailor wearing a cap and sunglasses has a telephone microphone device hanging around his neck.

Footnotes

MacDougal, interview by Francy Bockoven and Peter Steele, 43.
MacDougal, interview by Francy Bockoven and Peter Steele, 43.
Spangler, interview by Jenny Beaujean, tape 1, 13:17.
O’Connell, interview by Francy Bockoven, transcript, 12.

Despite the constant shifts of work and watch needed to keep the ship operational and ready for battle, many sailors during World War II remembered the monotony of their routines at sea. As Heath Haggerty recalled:

When you were in doing something, it was all right... But the one thing that stands out was the boredom. The sheer boredom! Day after day, week after week… You'd come out and look at the flat, the blazing hot [sun], you'd look at that flat horizon. Of course there were ships out there, but that's all. You never saw a tree, you never saw land, and the sun would blast you in the face and make your eyes hurt. You'd look at that and...you'd think you'd been there forever...But that's the one thing I can remember... Looking around, you can do a 360-degree circle, it was just flat and water and hot and you could see the other ships out there. And you felt like you'd been there forever.¹

Sharing a similar sentiment to Haggerty, Storekeeper 1^st Class "Temporary" Wally Dickerman explained:

I'm sure that almost any sailor will say that life aboard ship was mostly boredom. They used to say, 'Join the Navy and see the world.' We saw a lot of the world but what we saw was mostly water.²

Image

Caption

The crew taking a break on the foredeck, c. 1944-1945. (BOSTC 1630)

Visual Description

Sailors sitting around on the foredeck of a destroyer with a 5" gun mount behind them. An officer wears a uniform, while crew members wear work dungarees, some without their shirts.

Footnotes

Haggerty, interview by Jeniffer Beltz, audio, tape 1, 15:30.
Craig, USS Cassin Young: Fletcher Class Destroyer DD793, 36.

During World War II, sailors did not visit a port for nearly 16 months. Due to the demands of war cruising, they only found respite from the ship when occasionally visiting "Beer Islands" in places such as Ulithi Atoll and Kerama Retto. There, they relaxed, went for swims, and enjoyed beer and cookouts. George Finnegan explained how the doctor would grill:

...first of all the steaks would be in a big pile on a make-shift table there on this sandy part of a beach, and they were invariably covered, actually covered with a mass of flies. And the doc would be sitting there, drinking this beer, and periodically blasting these flies with a can of DDT or whatever it was at the time!...the doc used to assure us that, we cooked them in a fire, we used to get a fire going and just toss them in the fire, that that would be all right.¹

In the 1950s, however, CASSIN YOUNG made frequent visits to foreign ports during cruises across the globe. Once in-port, many sailors received off-duty time or shore leave called "liberty." Sailors on liberty used the gangway to get on and off the ship to explore these new places. During this time, the ship also stocked up on food, fuel, and spare parts and received any needed repairs.

Gary MacDougal remembered both the fun and diplomatic aspects of port calls:

Things would be pretty gray, and then all of a sudden, you'd pull into Nice, France. And it would be kind of exciting. You'd get all cleaned up and put your white uniform on, and you'd go in and often the Mayor would come out and meet with the Captain. And maybe we would get invited, in some places, to the Embassy or a party or something. And we’d let tourists come on, and then we would go off and see the sights. So that was exciting. You really felt you needed an opportunity for a break.²

Images

Captions

Crew members enjoying time on land, c. 1944-45. (BOSTC 1643) Sailors visiting ancient ruins in Greece, 1953. (BOSTC 3069)

Visual Descriptions

Image 1: Two sailors in casual clothes pouring bottles into large vessels while on land.

Image 2: The backs of a group of sailors as they look up at ancient ruins on a hill. Some sailors are in the distance walking down the hill.

Footnotes

Finnegan, interview by Peter Steele, transcript, 26.
MacDougal, interview by Francy Bockoven and Peter Steele, 43.

During World War II, the crew picked up a couple of pets who served as "mascots" to those on board.

While ashore in the Pacific, the chief boatswain (or bos'n) mate found a parrot and brought it aboard. George Finnegan humorously recounted the chief having the parrot on his shoulder while he and another sailor tried to get it to talk:

The parrot's looking right at [the chief] and he's looking right at the parrot about two inches away. And he's saying, 'Hell-o Parr-ott.' And of course the parrot would stare at him, you know, and this would go on for hours!¹

Finnegan also recalled "Bogey," a little white terrier, who "became a real pal to everybody aboard the ship."² With short legs and small feet, Bogey stayed on the main deck unless someone carried him up or down ladders to different decks.

Understandably, the firing of the 5-inch guns frightened both animals. The first time the parrot heard gun fire, he flew away "like mad" into the distance. Finnegan remembered:

Of course, the chief was just completely upset, he’s just screaming at the parrot to come back, you know, and behind him, this big bos'n mate, this big brute, was beating him on the back and saying, 'Hey, it's talking! It's talking! It's talking!' ...the fellow was just delighted because the parrot had finally talked.³

Likewise, the first time Bogey heard the gun, he disappeared. The crew searched for him and ultimately found him here, up on the bridge by the signal flags bags. The crew wondered how he could have climbed up the ladders, and Finnegan thought:

I got a feeling that once those guns started to go off, Bogey figured, boy, he just had to get out of there, and the only way he could see was to go was up! And he made the ladders, he made it all the way as high as he could go.⁴

Little Bogey remained a companion to the crew for several months until they returned to port in San Pedro, California, after the war.

Image

Caption

The little white terrier Bogey, c. 1944-45. (BOSTC 1634)

Visual Description

A little white terrier rests on top of a raised platform.

Footnotes

Finnegan, interview by Peter Steele, transcript, 28, tape 2, 13:21.
Finnegan, interview by Peter Steele, transcript, 29, tape 2, 18:02.
Finnegan, interview by Peter Steele, transcript, 29, tape 2, 16:47.
Finnegan, interview by Peter Steele, transcript, 30, tape 2, 19:01.

The crew passed the time and found ways to entertain themselves on board. They read, played cards, watched movies, and boxed, among other activities.

Eugene Sevensma remembered some of the card games the crew played:

In addition to reading, there was a lot of card playing. I never got into playing acey-deucey much or backgammon, but a lot of bridge, a lot of... cribbage. So cribbage and bridge were the games that the officers played mostly, and I guess pinochle was what the enlisted men played.¹

Chief Yeoman Thurman Sowle described that in addition to cards, they would box: "We would have a smoker on the fantail. Now a smoker is where we would have boxing gloves, we’d have a little boxing match on the fantail."²

Commanding Officer Rear Admiral Thomas Rudden sought a balance between sports and card playing so that everyone engaged in their competitive side:

Now, many ships just have athletic competitions: football, baseball, basketball, boxing. And usually the football team is the baseball team is the boxing team, they're all – all the jocks are the same and they all play the same kinds. And I don't believe that's broad enough, so I insist that there be competition all the way from acey-deucy to bridge, to backgammon to ping-pong, you name it. And the more events we can get competition in, the better it is. Because in its very essence, life in a warship is a competitive existence. Particularly if you have an enemy. So your competitive instincts better be very finely honed.³

Images

Caption

Sailors playing cards and boxing aboard, 1957-59. (Courtesy Jack Surre, Machinist Mate 3^rd Class)

Visual Descriptions

Image 1: Six crew members playing cards around a table in the berthing area of a ship. A bunk bed is tilted up to make room and they are surrounded by other bunks, 3-bunks high.

Image 2: Looking down on the fantail deck of a destroyer where there is a boxing match between two sailors. Other sailors, standing in a semi-circle, watch.

Footnotes

Sevensma, interview by Francy Bockoven, transcript, 26, tape 2, 21:21.
Arthur Morrell and Thurman Sowle, interview by Francy Bockoven, August 25, 1980, audio, USS CASSIN YOUNG (DD793) Oral History Project, 1942-1986, BOSTC 3426, Boston National Historical Park Archives, tape 2, 9:50.
Rear Admiral Thomas J. Rudden, interview by Francy K. Bockoven, 25.

Movies served as another activity for the crew. These movies would be projected onto a screen either here in the mess, or on a sheet out on the fantail. During World War II, the crew had to limit their movie watching outside to when they were in port or in a safe location, otherwise, the light could attract the enemy's attention.

Many crew members, particularly from the 1950s, recalled watching movies aboard. As Damage Controlman 2^nd Class, Petty Officer Anthony Marra remembered:

If it was a good day, it'd be on the fantail, and the screen would be the side of the gun mount... During the winter, we would be in the mess hall, downstairs, down below there with a screen and everything. And there'd be, I wouldn't exaggerate, 50, 60 guys jammed in there watching the movie.¹

William Spangler described how they arranged to watch movies with another destroyer in port:

We had also set up, if we were with another destroyer, we would set up one screen between the two, and then... they were able to shoot like a regular movie house, and we'd get double features.²

Whether they boxed or watched a movie on the fantail, or played card games in the mess, the crew relied on these activities to help distract from the challenges they faced during World War II. As Chief Storekeeper Arthur Morrell explained:

...these are some of the things... that really sustained us, you know, and, I can't say that we weren't frightened. We were frightened. Oh yeah, but this helped us. And I think it really kept us going... rather than getting all jittery and everything else and dwelling on what, what was to come, you know.³

Footnotes

Anthony Marra, interview by Peter Steele and Lionel Shapiro, May 16, 1979, transcript and audio, USS CASSIN YOUNG (DD793) Oral History Project, 1942-1986, BOSTC 3426, Boston National Historical Park Archives, tape 1, 18:55.
Spangler, interview by Jenny Beaujean, tape 2, 2:13.
Morrell and Sowle, interview by Francy Bockoven, tape 2, 15:00.

At any moment of the day or night, when sailors would be at work, at watch, off duty, or even asleep, the piercing sound of the General Quarters alarm signaled all aboard to combat readiness. Within minutes, all battle stations, such as this 40mm gun, had to be fully manned, ammunition ready for instant loading, and the ship secured and watertight. Regardless of their regular duty, every sailor had a specific battle station and vital role during General Quarters.

Fire Controlman 3^rd Class Louis Arata, who served during World War II, stated, "That was a bone chilling experience…this sound was perfected to completely open all your adrenaline and start it flowing at the sound of this thing."¹

Similarly, Paul Jones remembered that when the General Quarters alarm went off, "the adrenaline runs, and it gives you a strength that you don't have normally. I'm sure that is why I enjoyed destroyers so much, because on destroyers, they ran our ass off, and the adrenaline was running all the time."²

General Quarters would be called for drills and severe weather as well as for imminent combat. Louis Arata felt, "the longer we were associated with the terrors of the war, this sound became worse."³

Footnotes

Louis Arata, interview by Alan Hanigan, August 23, 1980, transcript, USS CASSIN YOUNG (DD793) Oral History Project, 1942-1986, BOSTC 3426. Boston National Historical Park Archives, 26.
Jones and Snyder, interview by Brian Sullivan, 16.
Arata, interview by Alan Hanigan, 26.

As part of their duties, crew members rescued downed pilots and others stranded at sea. Oftentimes, when they rescued a pilot and returned him to his home ship, they would light-heartedly barter him for items, such as ice cream, that they did not have normally onboard their own ship. As George Finnegan remembered:

And a lot of times, the amount of ice cream would depend upon the station in life of that the aviator had reached aboard the carrier... And it got to be the point, it was almost terrible, we almost [would] get to the point of being insulting before the crew would haul him aboard, they'd be yelling at him… what was his rank in the squadron, all the time they were figuring how much ice cream they were going to get for this poor guy they were hauling out of the water!¹

Image

Caption

A sailor being rescued from the ocean with a lifesaver, 1944. (National Archives, 80-G-281665-6)

Visual Description

Looking down at a man in the water with a life preserver around him. He’s holding on to a rope to be pulled out of the water.

Footnotes

Finnegan, interview by Peter Steele, transcript, 35-36, tape 2, 31:13.

Other times, rescues took on a more urgent and harrowing tone. For example, on October 24, 1944, the crew assisted with the rescue of sailors from USS PRINCETON, which had been attacked by Japanese bombers. As Electrician's Mate 3^rd Class Ralph S. Rhoads wrote in his diary, "It wasn't a very pleasant sight to see 7 or 8 hundred men in the water covered with about 3 inches of fuel oil and high-octane gasoline and hear their cries for help."¹

Dave O'Connell remembered:

...when they had to abandon ship…we must have picked up 250 survivors off the PRINCETON. Well, you would be leaning over the sides, and there were all kinds of sharks in the waters, and we would be throwing empty shells at them, and shooting at them… We just picked up the 20-millimeter shells, 40-millimeter shells. We would see a shark, we would throw something at it to try to hit it to distract it.²

He continued:

And you would reach up, pull somebody in... That was the sad part, you know, seeing fellows, you know they are dead, they are in their life jackets, and some would probably be partly eaten by a shark or something, and you would just see the blood around him. You would know he was gone, but you couldn’t bother with him. We used to have boat hooks; we would put a boat hook out and on the fellow’s kapok life jacket, and you would look at him, and he’s gone; you would have to let him go and get somebody else that could grab a hold of it and pull him in. Our whaleboats were out picking them up all the time, bringing them in.³

One rescued sailor later wrote that the crew "gave us their bunks and they slept on deck. Seems to me they had more reason to be tired than we – the rescue work they did was no easy task."⁴

Plaque

U.S.S. CASSIN YOUNG
IN APPRECIATION
FROM THE SURVIVORS OF THE
U.S.S. PRINCETON
24 OCTOBER 1944

Images

Captions

Survivors from USS PRINCETON awaiting rescue, 1944. (National Archives, 80-G-281662-4) XO W.H. Snyder shooting at sharks while PRINCETON survivors are still in the water, 1944. (National Archives, 80-G-281661-5)

Visual Descriptions

Image 1: A couple dozen sailors in a small boat in the middle of water.

Image 2: An officer leaning over the side of a ship, pointing a gun down to the water. He looks off to his right side talking to someone out of view.

Footnotes

Ralph Samuel Rhoads, U.S.S. Cassin Young (DD-793) War Diary, March, 1944-August, 1945, 2017.
O'Connell, interview by Francy Bockoven, transcript, 36-37.
O'Connell, interview by Francy Bockoven, transcript, 37.
Craig, USS Cassin Young: Fletcher Class Destroyer DD793, 64.

With the threat of battle always present, the crew lived in a constant state of anticipation and heightened anxiety, especially when working radar picket duty. Exposed and alone ahead of the fleet, destroyers on picket duty searched for approaching enemy planes.

According to George Finnegan:

it was a tremendous psychological experience…Because you were sitting on the ship, and you were just living from one minute to the next…you knew that they were coming in, but you weren't sure when. And psychologically, you were just drained. We had been up there for the longest period of time of any ship before we were hit. And the crew was just mentally and physically exhausted. Psychologically exhausted, really.¹

Electrician's Mate 1^st Class Charles Tripi recalled, "we all had fear…I was damn, damn near scared to death. I had seen so many ships sunk… and heard reports of so many, had seen so many, been to battle stations so many times that I just was really…I wasn't my normal self, I don't think anybody was."²

Stationed at the 5-inch gun, Heath Haggerty remembered the rising anticipation as enemy aircraft approached:

you'd just be loading and firing as fast as you could. Then you'd hear the forty-millimeters open up and you knew that they were getting in closer. When the forties started firing, their range was 4,000 yards. You hear the forties start to fire and you knew they were still coming. And then when you hear the twenty-millimeters open up, you knew they were close, they were really close. You couldn't see anything in there…Your adrenaline is pumping, and you're all excited, but you're doing your job. I think everybody goes a little bit crazy for a while.³

Footnotes

Finnegan, interview by Peter Steele, transcript, 18-19.
Eugene Taitt and Charles Tripi, interview by Ray Bloomer, August 23, 1980, audio, USS CASSIN YOUNG (DD793) Oral History Project, 1942-1986, BOSTC 3426, Boston National Historical Park Archives, tape 2, 32:08.
Haggerty, interview by Jeniffer Beltz, transcript, 14-15.

From his position on the bridge, the commanding officer directed all operations during the chaos of battle.

George Finnegan remembered Commander John W. Ailes running around the bridge "almost like a madman. He was almost like someone going through, say in a modern-type football game. Someone threading his way through tackle, running for a touchdown. He's just jumping, jumping around madly. And he'd be one side of the bridge to the other, looking up and screaming orders... His maneuvering of the ship, actually, in my opinion, saved it on several occasions from being hit."¹

Sumner Wheeler humorously recalled Commander Earl T. Schreiber once during an attack:

We were off Saipan at the time, and it was just around dusk. Some enemy aircraft were attacking, and he walks out of the sea cabin, which was up in the bridge, eating some ice cream. We were at General Quarters, and he points at some Japanese plane coming in, he says 'shoot that son of a bitch! Somebody shoot him!' And there he was, eating this dish of ice cream.²

For those stationed above deck, on the bridge or otherwise, combat became very intimate. Arthur Morrell remembered once getting to his station at the beginning of an attack and seeing "the face of the pilot, [and seeing] the little twinkle of light coming from the guns."³

Chief Gunner’s Mate Alfred H. "Stud" Whipple reflected that during these battles:

You got no place to go. Nothing you can do, you're just helpless, except you're firing at them, that's the only thing that's saving you...I guess mentally you're making yourself small as you can. There's no place to go… I mean, there's nothing else to do except fire and… God, you just hope.⁴

Image

Captions

Crew members on the bridge, c.1944-1945. (BOSTC 1638) Sumner Wheeler with “The Scoreboard” showing CASSIN YOUNG’s four shore bombardments, 14 downed enemy aircraft, and two kamikaze strikes, c. 1944-45. (BOSTC 1633)

Visual Description

Image 1: Four crewmembers outside on the bridge with the portholes of the pilothouse behind them.

Image 2: A sailor leans against a 5" gun mount with a cigarette in his hand. On the side of the gun mount is a series of symbols arranged in a table. The repeated symbol illustrates an explosion. There are five columns. The first has an island picture at the top, with four explosion symbols below. The second and third columns have a plane above them and they each have five explosion symbols. The fourth column has a plane graphic with four symbols below. The final column has a plane curving down and two symbols beneath it. Below the table of symbols are two stars.

Footnotes

Finnegan, interview by Peter Steele, transcript, 14, tape 1, 29:02.
Wheeler, interview by Francy K. Bockoven, 21-22.
Morrell and Sowle, interview by Francy Bockoven, tape 1, 13:53.
George Van Pelt and A.N. Whipple, interview by Arlene Coyle, August 14, 1983, audio, USS CASSIN YOUNG (DD793) Oral History Project, 1942-1986, BOSTC 3426. Boston National Historical Park Archives, tape 1, 30:01.

Despite all the dangers of battle during daytime, nighttime attacks brought additional hazards and complications. During these situations, the crew stationed at guns relied heavily on those who worked here in Radar Operations. Heath Haggerty remembered:

Why, you’d shoot into the dark. You never saw him. The radar had him, and you’d never see him or hear him, nothing. Just like punching nails into the blackness.¹

They sometimes had success, however. As Haggerty continued, "every once in a while, they'd hit one at night and you'd see this big fireball coming down. Of course, when that happened, you could open the hatch…you'd look out and see this big fireball and everyone would whistle and yell and scream."²

Arthur Morrell recalled the stunning visuals during nighttime battles, particularly from the tracer bullets that left a red trail. He said, "when we looked up into the sky, it was a red net and that's all there was. There was so many bullets in that air it looked as though there was a permanent net all over the sky."³

Despite surviving numerous attacks both day and night, the constant threat and stress of battle took its toll on the crew. Even after the intensity of battle, the anxiety remained. Raymond Lorichon explained how he had to counsel lots of patients, particularly after the first casualties. When asked why some sailors needed the counseling, he said:

Anxiety is the biggest thing - fear - fear - the war fear was the biggest thing that brought it on and they just couldn’t cope with that fear...anxiety was the prime thing that breaks a man quicker than anything else, really.⁴

Footnotes

Haggerty, interview by Jeniffer Beltz, transcript, 14.
Haggerty, interview by Jeniffer Beltz, transcript, 14-15.
Morrell and Sowle, interview by Francy Bockoven, tape 1, 14:47.
Lorichon, interview by Brian Sullivan tape 2, 12:04.

On April 12, 1945, Ralph Rhoads wrote in his diary, "Lady Luck kinda walked out on us today." He described how one enemy plane "hit our mast and exploded, two more dived on us but missed by a few ft. We had about thirty casualties and one man killed. A couple more are in very bad condition."¹

Paul Jones recalled being in the Combat Information Center when the attack occurred:

...there are just so many planes coming in that we couldn’t get them all, and one of them, the first, hit the upper radar and the foremast... And of course, at that time, the concussion was great enough so that the door of the Combat Information Center, which was just a standard door, it was not a sea door, buckled so that we couldn't get out. The room was so perforated that we could see fire through many holes in the wall.²

Torpedoman's Mate, 3^rd Class Robert Dean Moore lost his life in the attack and fifty-nine others sustained injuries. Crew members held a funeral service for Moore aboard.

They made their way to the island of Kerama Rhetto for repairs and to transfer the wounded to a hospital transport ship.

Louis Arata remembered that when repair crews came aboard, "our crewmembers would take their tool boxes and throw them over the side! Because we wanted to go back to the States! We had it up to our eyeballs with this war, and they’d bring more tools, and they all ended up in the deep!"³

Image

Caption

Damage to the ship's mast sustained during the April 12 kamikaze strike, 1945. (National Archives, 80-G-330115)

Visual Description

Smokestack of a naval destroyer with the mast (including antennas and other technological equipment) behind it. The top third of the mast is broken and leans perpendicular to the rest of the mast.

Footnotes

Ralph Samuel Rhoads, U.S.S. Cassin Young (DD-793), War Diary, March 1944-August, 1845 (2017).
Jones and Snyder, interview by Brian Sullivan, 19-21.
Arata, interview by Alan Hanigan, 11.

Repaired by early June 1945, USS CASSIN YOUNG once again resumed active service. On July 30,1945, while stationed off the coast of Okinawa, it suffered its second, and most devastating, kamikaze attack.

Heath Haggerty remembered:

I was on watch in the number two five-inch gun. It was about three or three-thirty a.m., there was somewhat of a moon; some things you can remember very clear and some things you're hazy on. But I can remember it was a moonlight night and they picked up … this bogey at quite a few thousand yards out… I know we got two shots off. Boom! He hit us. He came right through the starboard whaleboat, right back of the bridge…It blew up and started a fire…There were guys there with their heads gone, and their legs, and arms. And just some horrendous injuries! …But it didn't matter whether you were out on the topside or whether you were inside. When one of those things hit, why, it did so much damage it killed just as many guys inside as outside.¹

According to the ship’s medical officer, Dr. Eugene Sevensma:

The main impact was in the forward fire room, and the high pressure steam lines were broken down there, so whatever men were not killed by shrapnel were literally boiled alive by steam…There was just no way you could save them. All you could do was try to make them comfortable with morphine, and wait until they expired, which wasn't very long.²

The attack killed twenty-two men and left forty-five others seriously wounded. According to Paul Jones, "we had a ceremony for the dead, then we took them over to Okinawa and buried them on the beach."³

Within weeks of this attack, Japan surrendered and World War II finally came to an end.

Those who died in both kamikaze attacks aboard USS CASSIN YOUNG are remembered here on this plaque.

Plaque

IN MEMORIAM

This plaque commemorates the supreme sacrifice made by crewmembers of USS CASSIN YOUNG (DD-793) during the kamikaze attacks of 12 April 1945 and 30 July 1945

Killed in Action 12 April 1945

Moore, Robert Dean TM 3/c (T)

Killed in Action 30 July 1945

LCDR Alfred Brunson Wallace, PCO
Barnes, Joseph James, MM 3/c
Boegen, Billy Joe, S 1/c
Cleveland, “J.” “V.” Dale, SM2/c (T)
Combs, Arvel Lee, F 1/c
Conn, Ben, RdM 3/c (T)
Dominelli, Valentino Samuel, WT 3/c (T)
Erickson, Arnold William, RT 1/c
Fuller, John Edward, S 1/c
Isenmann, Milton Grant, RM 3/c (T)
Johnson, David Stewart, TM 1/c (T)
Kappa, John, MM 1/c (T)
McCartney, Jasper Clarence, CWT
Miller, Frank Leon, WT 2/c (T)
Mundschenck, Robert Lesser, WT 2/c
Reasoner, Clyde Milton, S 2/c
Renner, Eugene Addison, F 1/c
Smith, Byron “A”, S 1/c
Takacs, John James, WT 2/c (T)
Taylor, Robert Samuel, WT 2/c (T)
Wimer, Horace Bertman, WT 1/c
Wimley, Walter Budd, MM 1/c

Image

Caption

Burial on Okinawa for those killed in the July 30 attack. (BOSTC 1644)

Visual Description

Two rows of sailors, about 20 sailors total, standing in a cemetery filled with white crosses. They stand at attention with their heads slightly bowed.

Footnotes

Haggerty, interview by Jeniffer Beltz, transcript, 19-21.
Sevensma, interview by Francy Bockoven, 12.
Jones and Snyder, interview by Brian Sullivan, 32-33.

As a result of the damage incurred in the second kamikaze attack, USS CASSIN YOUNG returned to San Pedro, California, for full repairs. Decommissioned there in 1946, it became part of the Pacific Reserve Fleet, unofficially known as the mothball fleet.

In 1951, however, CASSIN YOUNG returned to active duty in the early years of the Cold War. It received repairs and modifications here in the Charlestown Navy Yard several times before its final decommissioning in 1960.

For those who served aboard, the ship played a defining role in their lives. Here, they found a common purpose, endured the risks of war, and forged lasting relationships.

William Downs recalled:

At the beginning of World War II, when our country became involved, I think everybody felt that sense of responsibility to do their part to win the war. And as a result... I felt it an honor to serve my country…being assigned to the CASSIN YOUNG was an honor for me.¹

According to Heath Haggerty:

I have always felt that I left a little something of myself on the ship. Something intangible, yet something that will always be there…There was a lot of sweat and blood that fell on those decks. And even some tears.²

Echoing the thoughts of his shipmates, James Marrs reflected, "when you go through some experiences like we did, and particularly you lose crew members, you always feel that you're a family."³

Sailors from the Cold War shared this sentiment of camaraderie. Bill McGee reminisced, "These people... you remember them even today. I may not remember their names, but I remember the things that we did, and the good times that we had."⁴

Today, CASSIN YOUNG remains berthed at the Charlestown Navy Yard. The ship reminds us of the service and sacrifice of the sailors who dedicated themselves to the defense and victory of the United States in World War II and the early years of the Cold War.

Images

Captions

Fire Control crew, c. 1944-1945. (BOSTC 1624) The S Division (Supply), 1954 World Cruise. (BOSTC 3068)

Visual Descriptions

Image 1: Group photo of sailors in work dungarees along with their officer. Most of the sailors wear “Dixie-cup” style caps. There are three rows of sailors. The first row of sailors is sitting, the second row is kneeling, and the third is standing. Standing at the far left is the officer.

Image 2: Group photo of sailors in navy dress with white caps. There are three rows of sailors. The first row of sailors is on their knees, the second row is hunched over, and the third is standing. The officers are to the right, with two in the first row, one in the second, and one in the back row.

Footnotes

Downs and Perry, interview by Ruth Wheeler, tape 2, 38:23.
Haggerty, interview by Jeniffer Beltz, transcript, 40-41.
Marrs, interview by Connie Witherby, 49:15.
McGee, interview by Francy Bockoven, transcript, 25, tape 2, 15:02.

Thank you for taking this tour. There are many other opportunities to continue learning about USS CASSIN YOUNG and its crew.

If you are interested in exploring the uses of different compartments of the ship, visit this USS CASSIN YOUNG overview virtual tour.

To watch ranger-led videos that describe the ship's operation, weaponry, and living quarters, please watch the USS CASSIN YOUNG video tour.

To honor the lives of those who died in the two kamikaze attacks, please visit: USS CASSIN YOUNG Honor Roll.

Contact Us

Arata, Louis

Byrum, Peter

Downs, William

Doyle, Brendan

Finnegan, George

Haggerty, Heath

Jones, Paul M.

Johndrow, Theodore G.

Lorichon, Raymond

MacDougal, Gary

Marra, Anthony

Marrs, James

McGee, Bill

Morrell, Arthur

O’Connell, Dave

Rudden, Thomas J., Rear Admiral

Sevensma, Eugene

Sowle, Thurman

Spangler, William

Swartz, Fred

Tripi, Charles

Wheeler, Sumner

Whipple, A.H. “Stud”

Commanding Officer

Executive Officer ("XO")

Commissioned Officers

Chief Petty Officers (CPOs)

Enlisted Men

Divisions

Information

Introduction

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Footnotes

Coming Aboard

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Footnotes

Routine

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Footnotes

Bridge

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Footnotes

Chart Room

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Gun Mounts

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Footnotes

Ammunition Handling Room

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Sickbay

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Footnotes

Wardroom

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Engine and Fire Rooms

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Footnotes

Crew's Berthing

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