• Posted in: Home
• 49
• Author: admin

USS DETECTOR CREWCREW MEMORIES     I was on the commissioning crew and still have my "PLANK OWNER CERTIFICATE," and pictures taken of the commissioning ceremonies. We had a fire during sea trials in the engine room, and from reading the various reports of her history down through years this was a reoccurring problem. I remember Lt. Com. Tingle he was an ex tin can man from W. W. II who was torpedoed twice in the Atlantic. He hated sharks as he had seen his mates killed in the water, and every time sharks were spotted at sea, he would break out small arms and we got target practice. Watch Ways Of The Flesh Online (2017). He left the ship in '5.

Pentagon, and we got a real Capt. Queek as his replacement. I left the ship for civilian life in '5. I met my future wife in Charleston while on the Detector, we recently celebrated 4.

Fake News Papers Fake News Videos. A Few Abbreviations.

The trip from Fort Dix to Baltimore lasted approximately three hours. It had occurred to me that it was the first time in eight weeks that I actually was sitting in a. A true band of brothers, the Charlie Company was one of the last combat infantry companies in the Vietnam War to be drafted, trained and sent to battle together. USS DETECTOR MSO-429 CREW LISTS The Goal is to Locate as many Ex- Detector Shipmates as Possible, Gather as much Memories, Info and Photos we can and preserve them on. Miami Edison Veterans And First Responders. This candle burns in memory of all veterans. You are not forgotten. Back to O.T.H.G. Thanks to all of our Veteran’s, we. Issuu is a digital publishing platform that makes it simple to publish magazines, catalogs, newspapers, books, and more online. Easily share your publications and get.

For those of you who served, here is why the ship's bell was chrome plated. When first commissioned, the leading CPO had us polishing that damn bell twice a day as it was brass. One night in Long Beach, the bell disappeared, next morning it was back in place Chrome plated, never to be polished again. Another story, In Charleston 1. Ensigns went sailing beyond the sea buoy and a storm came up. One was the son of an Adm.

We were ordered to sea to search for them with the usual weekend crew aboard about 1/4. Along with other sweeps we looked for 3 days, finally we found the sailboat upside down with a preserver, but no bodies. We grapalled for the boat but it sank, we got the preserver with the name "ONDINE." THAT ENDED THE SEARCH after we notified Hdq. We later received a note from the Adm. I got about 6 hrs.

I was the only qualified radar operator on board, everybody else was ashore. I didn't even have weekend duty, I just got caught on board. Don Prosser SO3 1.

Pro. 06. 01. 57@aol. COM     I was on the Detector in 6. IC2. made first on Detector.

I was there for 2 1/2 years. Captain Hanigan LCDR .

LCDR CD Collis.. I loved that ship. I spent a lot of hours stringing those hammer boxes and acoustical devices. I saw where the ship was sold for just over 2. I made a med cruise on Detector. We refueled from a LST. George L. Cleveland IC1 USN Retglleve.

During the med cruise of 1. Detector hit a reef or rock or ran aground while picking up practice mines off the coast of Malta. Divers found that the hull and the port variable pitch propeller were damaged. We went to Naples Italy for repairs. The ship was put in a floating dry dock. Workers started the repairs and things seemed to be going nicely.     One morning about a week later, the crew was awakened to abandon ship.

The dry dock had started to sink on one side and the Detector was still on it. The weather was cold and the crew was dressed from just under ware and blanket to full uniform. Everyone made it off and the shipyard workers took us to warm buildings and fed us and gave us booze to get rid of any chill that one may have or may want to get later.     The yard workers sank the other side while some of the engine room crew went aboard and replaced sea valves. The ship was safe once more and repaired in a regular dry dock. Charles "Chuck" Critzer EX EN3 1. FUEL & OIL KING".

I'm a Detector shipmate (ENS, later LTJG USNR, 1. Naples and the sinking drydock. It's all correct except for one thing - - we were minehunting near Sardinia. I remember because the exec had a chart of Sardinia he was concerned about the accuracy of - - and the ledge we hit was marked somewhat inaccurately.

I was on the bridge at the moment we hit, and the skipper (Marvin Hanigan) said, God damn it, Chris [to Chris Robbins, the XO] - - we've run aground!" All the rest of your story is right on the money. I abandoned ship in my skivvies and bridge coat along with everyone else.     Charles Collis, the PCO, had reported aboard and they had started the turnover of command process. Hanigan said to him, as they stood on the seawall in their blues on that chilly looking at the poor MSO cocked at a high angle and taking on water, "Sure you don't want to relieve me right now?"     I love the website. Glad you sent in that story. I'm writing a book about that Med cruise! Art Norton ENS 1. After enlisting in Oct.

San Diego, Gunners Mate schooling in Great Lakes, I reported to the U. S. S. Detector for my sea duty. I was on the Detector for two Med. Carib. I left the ship just before she went to Charleston in 1.

I had some medical needs to take care of before my discharge. I remember running aground during our combined training off of Sardina. I was below in. the forward compartment at the time and remember the shudder when we ran aground and again as the ship would be lifted by a ground swell then set. The Capt., as I understood, gave the order to back off and we did. We usually carried a few underwater dem. I can remember the die floating in the water from, I was told from the Sonar dome.     Any way, we went back to Naples on one screw to the floating dry dock, the abandon ship, very early in the cold cold morning, the breakfast, the booze cart etc.

I remember people were in all different stages of dress, depending on how long they decided to take to get dressed after the watch came through telling everyone to get off the ship and the angle of the deck when we rolled out of our bunks. I was the sea detail helmsman and was on the helm when we went into the Naples harbor on the one screw. I was also on the helm when we ran aground while we were leaving Little Creek, just before we cleared the breakwater. Any way lots of memories. Gary Johnston. Gunners Mate USS Detector MSO 4. Having only served a few months on the Detector from March till the end of August 1. I served with. lol.

That was long enough for me to just get aboard.. Med cruise and get back in time to be discharged after four years in the Navy.     I wasn't the only short- timer.. An RM2 was also getting out in a short time.

So before we got back in port from the Med cruise, the Captain wanted the passage way and steps painted between deck levels outside of the radio shack as I can remember.     So I talked it over with the short timer.. Navy. We used white, red and black paint to accent everything we could fine. And as a last finishing touch.. This may be the only time a Navy ship had pink railings. We knew quite well what we were doing with the detail colors..

And as far as the pink railings would go.. But as luck was not on our side, the Captain, after looking at that pink for three days..

Frank ex- RM3     There are many memories I have taken with me from the Detector.     The most impressive part of her was how she brought all of us together as one. She was small enough to know everyone, yet Mighty enough to successfully complete any task given. I fondly recall the many days in Radio while underway.

It was tight as we were undermanned, we were working port and starboard watches and the workload was pretty intense, yet with RM3 Johnny Adams, ET2 Kevin Harrison, and the rest of the crew. It was always as if we were working alongside family.     With nothing much to do on our free time while underway, we always seemed to gravitate towards Radio.     Always working on something or other whether on duty or not. I recall the many liberties in Charleston, The Overhaul just before Decomm, Climbing up to the Bridge in the dead of night, in a storm off of.

Hatteras to deliver Message traffic. I fondly Recall that ET2 Kevin Harrison had a remarkable scense of Humor and an incredible selection of music to listen to. I remember MANU DEBANGO (SP) LOL.

Parkway Rest Stop » Fort Holabird or the Twilight Zone? The trip from Fort Dix to Baltimore lasted approximately three hours.

It had occurred to me that it was the first time in eight weeks that I actually was sitting in a relatively comfortable seat. In basic training, there are virtually no chairs. True, one sits in training rooms and in the mess hall, but those chairs are built for function, not for comfort. Sitting on a bunk is just not the same as sitting in a real chair.

I wonder if today I would find a seat on Greyhound bus quite as wonderful as it seemed then. More importantly, however, the trip meant three hours alone – away from other soldiers and drill sergeants for the first time in more than eight weeks. It had been easy to forget that the world did not stop at the Fort Dix gates, but rather it was humming along quite nicely. The tiny island of civilian life on the Greyhound bus gave me three hours to stare out the window and think about the past eight weeks, about my life prior to those eight weeks, and how strange it seemed that things I had nothing to do with and had no control over placed me on this bus headed south to some damned place no one seemed to know anything about. Once in Baltimore, I dragged my jam- packed duffel bag off the bus, and asked a few people where I could catch the bus to Fort Holabird.

One person said, “I heard of Fort Meade, but I really don’t know anything about Fort Holabird. Are you sure you don’t mean Fort Meade?” A couple other people were equally as ignorant about Fort Holabird. I thought Christ, these people live here, and they never heard of the place? What the hell…??? Finally, I asked the information person at the bus terminal, who mercifully knew what bus I should take to get to this mystery military post. Shortly thereafter, duffel bag and I boarded the local bus that would take us to the base. I asked the bus driver to let me know when we got to Fort Holabird.

No problem,” he said. I was more than a little relieved to confirm that I was on the right bus and that the driver actually knew where the damned place was. The uniform again provoked stares, smiles and glares from the other passengers. By this time, I was becoming accustomed to it.

Besides, I was tired, and I just wanted to get to wherever the hell I was supposed to be.“Here’s the base, son,” the driver said, as he stopped the bus by the gate, in front of a guardhouse. I struggled with the duffle bag down the bus aisle and thanked the driver as I turned to step off through the bus doors. As I got off the bus, I was horrified to see an MP (military policeman) looking at me and walking at a brisk pace from the guardhouse in my direction. Oh hell. Here it comes. He was a tall, staff sergeant, the same rank as my drill sergeant. I didn’t think it possible, but the MP looked even more frightening than the drill sergeants I had just spent eight weeks with.

He was wearing the white MP helmet and a black MP armband. His trousers were bloused over his spit- shined airborne boots, and he wore a 4. I braced myself for what I was certain would be a ration of shit about something or other I was not doing right. Before I could say that I was reporting for duty (that’s what one is supposed to say), he said, “Hi. You need help with that bag?”I said, “Pardon me?” What did he say?? He repeated, “How ya doing? You look like you could use some help with that bag.”I was speechless.

I could only nod my head in the affirmative, something that would have unleashed a torrent of invective from a drill sergeant about the importance of “sounding off like you got a pair!”The MP looked at me for a moment, and I thought, OK, let the hollering begin. He didn’t holler; He said, “You look beat,” and he effortlessly tossed my duffel bag over his shoulder and carried it to the guardhouse. He set it down and asked, “Where on the base are you headed?” Still in shock, I told him that I had no idea where I was headed. I just knew that I was ordered to come here. He smiled – he actually smiled – and said, “No problem.

Let me take a look at your orders.”He took a quick look at the orders and said, “O. K. The building you have to report to is about a quarter mile down this street on the right side – big brick building – you can’t miss it. When you get there, ask for Sergeant Perez.

He’ll get you squared away.” I thanked him and began walk in the direction he had indicated. The MP shouted behind me, “Wait!” I thought, OK, I knew that this was too good to be true – this must be some kind of trap. Now, the hollering will begin. I turned in his direction and said, “Yes?” He said, “It’s really too far for you to walk with that bag.

I’ll have someone drive you.” OK, Jimbo, this must be some kind of a Twilight- friggin’- Zone thing. There is no way that white- helmeted, bloused- trousered, pistol packin’staff sergeant MP just said that he would get me a ride because it was too far for me to walk with a heavy bag. But, that’s what he said. The MP got on the phone, and in a minute or two a corporal appeared in an Army car and said, “You the guy who needs a ride? Hop in.”. During the short ride to my destination, I couldn’t think of anything to say to the corporal, other than to thank him for the lift.

Here’s the barracks building” he said. Sergeant Perez should be in the orderly room. He’ll check you in.”I found the orderly room, and, just as promised, Sergeant Perez was there. He was a sergeant- first class (three stripes up and two rockers). Again, I found myself thinking that it was absolutely impossible for a sergeant- first- class to be anything other than mean and ornery.

When I entered the room, breathless from having lugged the bag up the stairs, Sergeant Perez looked up from the papers on his desk, and said, “Yes? What can I do for you?” Wait a minute.

This is the way civilized people speak. Sergeants don’t talk this way. What in Christ’s name is going on here?“I’m reporting for duty, sergeant.”“Oh, you must be one of the new students. You’re a little early, but that is not a problem.” Did he say “students?”I could no longer contain myself.

I blurted out, “What is this place?”“You don’t know?” the sergeant said.“No I don’t, and I have not been able to find anyone who knows anything about this place.”“This is the United States Army Military Intelligence School.”I stood there in silence trying to process it all. After a few seconds, I asked, “What will I be doing here?”“Let’s take a look at your orders, and we’ll see.” I handed him my orders, and he said, “You are a 9. C. You’re an interrogator.”“An interrogator?” He remained patient, despite my stupidly repeating everything I had just heard.“Yes, that’s what a 9. C is. I also see that you speak German.”“Well, I took the German test. How can you tell from looking at the orders that I speak German?”The sergeant explained, “It says that your MOS (military occupation specialty) is 9. C2. L2. 9. The “9. C” tells me that you are an interrogator, and the “2.

L2. 9” tells me that you speak German.” I couldn’t help thinking back to that miserable bastard at Fort Dix who tried to intimidate me into not taking the German test. The sergeant, still looking at my orders, continued, “Oh, now I know why you might be a little puzzled by all this. I see that you are a draftee. We don’t get many draftees.