My father loved to tell his war stories, so I thought I would share one that he typed up. He was in the submarine service for about 3 years in WWII.
Court-Martialed at Sea
We had just finished our 6th patrol and were enjoying our R&R in Honolulu. Johnny Moore, Harry Gault and I, decided to see the town and have lunch at some nice restaurant for a change. While we were eating, Harry mentioned that he was having a problem, that he wanted to share with us. Harry was a chief torpedoman and a nice, friendly guy. He was also a former crewman on the Perch, a submarine that was in Bataan when the Japanese attacked the Philippines. The Perch, according to the accounts that I had heard, packed their bags and fled the Philippines, leaving 23 army nurses, that they could have taken with them, on the beach. They were, of course, captured by the Japanese and God knows what befell them after their capture. The Perch’s crew were singled out after that episode and given a hard time wherever they went. Harry said that the torpedomen on the Blackfish treated him like some kind of venereal disease. He would give an order to one of the guys and they would tell him to “F---- OFF”. He said that this behavior was getting worse as time went on and it was really starting to affect him psychologically. I said, “Harry, all you have to do is run one of them up to the man and your problems will be solved. Word will get around and they will give that kind of response a second thought.” Harry looked at me for a minute or so… thinking about my suggestion and finally said, “No, I couldn’t do that. We’re out on patrol, living so close and if I did something like that, they would really treat me like you know what.” I said, “Well Harry, you’ll just have to put with this lack of respect. Just remember that Johnny and I like you and respect you and will always be your buddy.”
Shortly after that, we went out on our seventh war patrol. We headed straight for the Philippines and would patrol the northern end of the islands, where the ocean depth was 35,000 feet. About a week after we arrived, a typhoon hit us. It would later be known as the Philippine typhoon and it lasted for three days. We lost two destroyers in that wind blast. The sea was in such turmoil, that we would surface, charge our batteries as quickly as we could and submerge to 90 feet and even then, our boats rocked to a 45 degree angle. Everyone eventually got very sick and had to stand their watch with a bucket. Several of us did not get sick and I was one of them. I was on the third watch and one day, as I passed through the after battery, I noticed that no one was eating and the food was just sitting there, getting cold. So, I sat myself down and had myself a bite. Shortly after I started my meal, Harry walked through the after battery and spotted me. He said, “Jack aren’t you on the third watch.” I said, “Yes Harry, but no one is eating and the food is just being wasted.” He said, “Jack, you are on the third watch and that’s when you are supposed to eat. Please leave.” I said, “Harry, no one is eating and the food is just being wasted.” He said, “Jack I’m ordering you to leave, so leave.” I said, “Harry, kiss my ass” and continued to finish my meal. After eating, I went on my regular watch in the radio shack.
Shortly after I started my watch, the executive officer came to the door of the radio shack. (Same guy that checked the engine room out with white gloves to determine whether it was clean enough). He requested that I get a replacement, that he wanted to talk to me in his cabin. Another radioman took over and I went up to the forward battery to his room. He sat me down and asked me to describe what had happened in the after battery. I ran the whole thing by him and when I finished, he told me that there would be a hearing the next day in the officer’s conference room. I felt a bit edgy about the whole thing, but figured that I had made a stupid decision and would have to suffer the consequences.
The next day, the court-martial was held. The executive officer turned out to be the prosecuting attorney and I went up pro-se. The exec detailed the happening as I had described it to him and at the end of his statement, suggested to the captain that I should be found guilty of what I had done.
Captain Gillette asked me to stand before him.. which I did. He looked me straight in the eye and said, “Jack, I don’t believe you really meant to say what you did.” I said, “Yes Captain, I did.” He said, “Jaaaack…. I don’t believe you meant to say what you did.” By this time, I was in an emotional mess… 19 years old, standing before the captain of my submarine and accused of total authority disregard. I said, and this time in tears… “Yes Captain, I did.” “No Jack… I don’t believe you meant to say what you did. Case dismissed.” I stood there, frozen for a few seconds and then realized that my court martial was over and that I was not going to be punished. I turned and slowly left the room and went back to the war as usual. Incidentally, that’s the last time I gave that kind of advise to anyone….
Jack Woltjen – Blackfish (SS221)
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