Sea Stories -Page five
Player Piano in the Wardroom
by John "Jake" Jacobsen 71-72
Anyone
who lived in
When the piano arrived he learned getting it in the wardroom was not quite as easy as he planned. It seems that the builders of the good ship Buchanan had not foreseen a player piano in the wardroom. Thus the WT door leading from the main deck, being standard issue, was not wide enough to allow access into the wardroom.
As
DCA I turned to my ship fitters and asked what to do. They scratched their
heads and tried to figure out what to do. Enter the new Chief Engineering
Officer, LT Richard Beal. He was fresh from a year plus duty in-country
Looking over the situation he figured that "if you can't raise the bridge, lower the river." If the WT door wasn't big enough then take off the whole door section . As most of you recall the doors are a sectioned part of the bulkhead that are riveted into place where required. So that is what the ship fitters did. They unriveted the door section and the piano was moved into to the wardroom. It took up residence on the aft bulkhead on the port side of the wardroom.
During various times of the day it was not unusual to hear "My Wild Irish Rose" and other hits of the 20's and 30's coming from the wardroom. To play the piano you loaded a perforated music paper roll and then pumped the foot treadles to get the piano to play. I must admit that it was a bit surreal during our times on the Gunline to hear the after mount firing and the piano pumping out a golden hit from the past.
I transferred off Buchanan in August of 1972 and shortly thereafter Buchanan became part of the "Mod Squad." Captain Thearle was relieved and first act of the new CO was to have the piano removed. Or at least that was the story I was told.
Dropped Bullet
by
Mark Pfeifer 77-80
It
was during my first WesPac. I was an STGSN onboard the ole' Buchanan.
I was in somewhat of a funk because I had been promised (as almost all of us
had, I suppose) that as an STG (or OS, PN, SM, put your own rating in here) that
I wouldn't mess cook. Well, my turn in the barrel came. One of my
duties was to report to MT 51 Magazine during GQ. We loaded the elevator
which took powders (38#) and bullets (85#) up to the mount. Following a
gunnery shoot, we had to download, working party style, all the unused rounds
and powders. It always came down to someone to man the ladders to pass the
powders and bullets down to the man on the next deck down. Our Magazine
captain, BM1 Robertson, had trained us all and impressed upon us that dropping a
bullet was one of the worst things we could do, as if the fuse in the nose broke
off, no one knew what the fuse time was. It could go off immediately,
within 2 minutes, 5 minutes, 10 minutes, etc. One of the other men in the
magazine was a cook. I don't remember his name, but he was rather skinny
(an understatement if there ever was one) and the best night baker we ever had.
On
this particular day, we had just finished a gunnery exercise and were
downloading the ammunition. The night baker had somehow been positioned on
the ladder into the magazine. about halfway through the download, he
dropped a bullet, and it hit the deck, breaking the fuse. BM1 Robertson
immediately, before anyone could do much more than think, grabbed the bullet in
one hand, the fuse in the other hand, and ascended the vertical ladder, pushing
the night baker ahead of him. We were still in condition Zebra, with the
allowance to hpen the scuttles to download the ammo. BM1 went through the
scuttle, to the next vertical ladder, through another scuttle, up two diagonal
ladders and scuttles, out three watertight doors and tossed the bullet and fuse
over the side, without ever touching either a ladder or door with his hands.
He did all of this in about 2 minutes. I don't know if he ever received
any recognition for what he did (if he did, I never heard of it), but he
potentially saved the ship and over half the crew. He was one of the petty
officers who set the bar for me, personally, as to what a true leader was.
Re-Arming gone Awry
by Anthony S. Leanza 1969 - 71.
This all started during my ASROC sentry watch, at sea....somewhere off the coast of Viet Nam....as I recall. I was doing the 8:00 am to 12:00 pm watch that morning...although it may have been the 4:00 am to 8:00 am watch...but the watch I was on is not of any impact to the story.
We were scheduled to do a re-arming early that morning. The seas were as rough as I have ever seen them. The ship was tossing all over. I went to the bridge to report condition normal, and as I spoke to the Office of the Deck I had to hold on to something to keep from being knocked over. The OD was an ex-white hat, and you could really talk down to earth to him. I had asked him if they were still going through with this re-arming despite these extremely rough seas, and he said as far as he knew, that yes they were. I was really amazed personally that they were going to go through with it, with the seas being as rough as they were. I knew that in the past, anytime the seas were like this, any form of unreps were canceled due to the rough conditions of the seas
I left the bridge and I returned to the desk, which is located right near the ASROC magazine, right akin to the ASROC deck where the re-arming would take place. So I had a good overview of all that transpired there. Not too long after that the re-arming ship came along side, and their lines were sent over and established. They then started to send the pallets of five inch projectiles over. They set the first pallet down on the port side of the ASROC deck. While this was going, on the ship drastically began to pitch and roll. Then the second pallet was sent over and placed on the deck along side the first pallet, the ship pitching even more fervently than before. Then the third pallet was sent over and placed on the deck next to the other two pallets.
Suddenly the ship took an enormous roll to starboard, which in turn set the three pallets in motion. All three slid across the deck tread, making a horrendous scrapping noise. Two of the pallets were stopped on the starboard side, most likely by the stanchion that supports the starboard lifelines, but not before they had injured two men in the course of their slide. Meanwhile a little further down, the third pallet went unchecked, careening right through the starboard life lines, taking a crewman over the side with it into rough seas.
Someone yelled "man overboard." Emergency Break-away.....the ship in short order was free of the re-arming ship and made a 180 degree turn back to locate that man in the water. Fortunately they were able to locate that sailor in the sea, and I say that was great. It was a miracle that he was even seen in those high caps that day. Accolades for the man who spotted him. We then retrieved the man from the water.
Later on I had heard all three were in the Chief's Quarters awaiting transfer. I walked past the Chief's Quarters and the door was open. I saw all three there on the deck. I believe they were laying on Stokes stretchers. Later, they were transferred (I believe) to the hospital ship USS Sanctuary, for treatment and evaluation. This was indeed a re-arming gone awry.
The Zone Inspection
by
Mark Pfeifer 77-80
When
I was aboard the ole' Puchy Buch (her nickname in the mid to late 70's), we had
the normal zone inspections familiar to all old salts. I was a green STG3 at the
time. We were at sea, and the sonar supervisor, STG2 John Thompson, had decided
that he wasn't up to a zone inspection that day. He advised the rest of the
watch to let him know when the inspector came around (our new suppo, never been
to sea before, and green as they came). As the suppo was coming down the ladder
to sonar control, the word was passed to John. The suppo opened the door, at
which time, John hit the switch which turned off the white lights, turning on
the battle (RED) lights, and called over the (sonar control only) mc,
"Sonar Contact", with range and bearing. The suppo stood there with a
blank look on his face, then turned around and walked away. We all had a good
laugh. The next morning, during quarters, the XO came to inspect us. Following
his inspection, he gave us a well done, then, called us to gather round him. In
a conspiratorial voice he advised us that there would be no more sonar contacts
during zone inspections. With a hearty laugh and smile, he left, leaving us
feeling rather happy that we had a good XO who was a mustanger.