Sheppard and the French Rescue

by G. William Weatherly

  “Please don’t mention it, Admiral,” Sheppard concluded as he walked the Admiral to the door. Lieutenant Halverson was holding the sedan door open for the Admiral. As soon as John Hamblen the 3rd got in, his aide climbed in the left side and the car sped off.

  As if on cue, Evelyn came in with a silver tray of coffee cups, saucers, sugar bowl, and cream server. “Where is the Admiral?”

  “He had to leave, something about a meeting with the President.”

  “Darling, you know these walls are paper thin.” Evelyn ran her fingers through his hair—more grey at the temples now than the last time they had been together, though still black and full.

  “Yes, dear, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It is going to be a long war and anything can happen between now and when the Board meets.”

  “Well, darling, I am just as glad he left. I have something else planned for a lazy May afternoon,” she said with a come-hither look, her lithe frame arched, allowing her auburn tresses to frame her creamy white complexion. She kissed him full on the lips, her tongue meeting his. Sheppard smiled, took the tray and set it on the coffee table, sweeping her off her feet, and carried her upstairs as smoothly as his game leg could manage.

  Corporal Pease was waiting at attention when Sheppard came out of the guest quarters at 0700 on Monday May 18th. Evelyn stood at the door to wave goodbye with her usual total lack of propriety. Dressed only in Sheppard’s uniform shirt from the previous day, there wasn’t a man on the planet that would not look lustfully at her beauty. Corporal Pease, however, was too disciplined a Marine to start any rumors of the Captain’s wife’s attire or the Captain’s virility, contrary to Evelyn’s intentions for the latter. Sheppard had long since stopped trying to tame his wife’s wild side. Getting her to conform to the Navy’s white gloves and hat etiquette in their personal life was impossible. Besides, he reveled in it. Most men away at sea would worry about faithfulness, but Evelyn had spurned every advance and was completely at peace with the mate she had selected. Sheppard had always been amazed at the faithfulness of her correspondence since the first day they met his senior year at the Academy. She had picked him but it took two years and a Pacific assignment for him to realize that she was a jewel and he needed to make their relationship permanent.

  The superintendent of the yard had been kind enough to provide a sedan for his use and the Marine orderlies were assigned as his drivers. Corporal Pease gave a smart salute with his usual, “Good morning, how is the Captain today?” as he held the right rear door open for Sheppard.

  “Fine, thank you, Corporal Pease; and how are you today?” Sheppard enjoyed teasing his orderlies about the Marine tradition of addressing people in the third person. Corporal Pease smiled in response but refused to answer. Sheppard knew the standard return was “Yew, what do I look like a female sheep;” but they would never tell him that. Still the morning exchange brought smiles to both of them and set a pleasant tone for the day.

  Corporal Pease shut the door and accelerated off toward the Platt Bridge and Province Island where the annex to the Philadelphia Navy Yard was located with its immense construction docks—numbers 7, 8, and 9. Each dock was well over a quarter mile long, the better part of a football field wide, with 54 feet over the sill at mean low water. Designed and constructed to support the fleet expansion authorized in the mid 1930’s, the latest battleships were already beginning to tax their dimensions. Argonne was currently located in number 7. Aligned to a bearing of 325 degrees, the dock was adequate for the main battery realignment that Sheppard wanted to conduct. Any orientation would do for a batten beam procedure, but Sheppard had directed his Gunnery Officer, Commander Chuck Williamson, to align the 18-inch guns to the North Star.

  There were some benefits to being a national hero and Sheppard had made sure that his personal status translated to benefits for his crew and ship. The Shipyard Superintendent had promised any support that he could as long as Argonne left the dry dock on time. The four new ice cream machines installed in each of the crew’s messes, the chief’s quarters, and the wardroom would contribute more to morale than any non-sailor would ever understand. There was one personal luxury that he was allowing himself by having the yard install a standard shipboard bunk for his personal use in his cabin. A bed even if the same size just didn’t feel right aboard ship.

  Argonne’s repair would only require about two weeks of the dry dock’s schedule for the propeller change, turret alignments, and repair of the damage suffered in the Battle of Cape Vilan. Belleau Wood’s repair would delay the next battleship by the better part of a year to repair her hull damage and rudder machinery. That would give Captain Greg Anderson, formerly of the light cruiser Colchester, a chance to learn his ship and start a training program undoing the damage done by Kevin Bailey. Colchester had performed well in the battle and Sheppard in his reports had made certain to commend Greg’s leadership and tactical acumen in the employment of Colchester and Burlington. It was ironic that Greg’s reassignment meant the loss of Sheppard’s Engineer Officer Andy Scott. He was transferred as soon as Argonne was docked to relieve Greg on Colchester.

  As Corporal Pease drove up to the brow, Sheppard could see the side-boys forming up. Despite his urging, his Executive Officer Ted Grabowski had not relented to Sheppard’s request to do away with the quarterdeck ceremonies that he hated. Ted had a good point—that Sheppard would notice any errors and correct them before Argonne offended an important visitor. He knew it was good practice for when it counted in making an impression. Nevertheless, Sheppard did not have to enjoy it.

  Sheppard started across the aft starboard brow to the quarterdeck. About half way Coxswain Jacob Bergman started the call Over the Side on his boatswain’s pipe, “ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss”; all four side boys and the officer of the deck saluted on the first note of the call. The pipe was timed so that Sheppard had sufficient time to reach the quarterdeck and salute the Officer of the Deck before it ended. Since it was earlier than the 0800 colors, the national ensign was not flying at the stern and a salute to it was not rendered by Sheppard before he raised his right arm and hand, ramrod straight, to the bill of his gold braided hat in salute to his watch officer. The only imperfection in Sheppard’s appearance, a slightly crooked nose, was a continuous reminder of the day he won the light-heavyweight intercollegiate boxing title. Alone among all the sailors and officers who were assigned to Argonne, as the Commanding Officer, he did not have to, “Request Permission to Come Aboard!” By tradition and fact, Argonne was his ship and the deck officer was his representative.

  The moment that Sheppard’s foot hit the deck, a signalman watching from the signal bridge lowered the Third-Repeat from the port yardarm indicating to all ships and the yard that the Captain was back onboard. Sheppard paused for a moment to allow Petty Officer Bergman to remove himself and the side-boys as Corporal Pease followed him across the brow.

  “Good morning, Lieutenant Hamblen, I see that you have a new officer under your instruction this morning.”

  “Yes, Captain, may I introduce Ensign William Fairchild. He reported aboard shortly after we docked and the Commander assigned him to me for orientation and instruction.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Fairchild, I look forward to meeting you officially later today.” Bergman had gone to the microphone for the General Announcing system or 1MC as it was called. He keyed the system and gave the call, Word to be Passed, ss-s-s-sssssss, followed by, “Argonne arriving.” Now everyone onboard knew that Sheppard had returned to the ship.

  Scared speechless by this national hero, Will Fairchild was unable to respond. Sheppard sensed his difficulty and promptly asked John Hamblen if anything of significance had occurred during the night. When John responded in the negative Sheppard left with Corporal Pease in tow. He knew that John would give Will the correct perspective on how to deal with Sheppard in the future. It was not the first time nor would it be the last that a brand new Ensign, his head filled with horror stories from his instr
uctors concerning the power of ship Commanding Officers, had been rendered incapable of the simplest actions when introduced to their first.

  Corporal Pease fell in one pace behind and to the left of Sheppard as they walked forward along the starboard side of Argonne’s main deck. In port, the starboard side was reserved for the commanding officer’s use and any official guests that he entertained. On most ships, if the crew had a limitation on paint or time, the starboard side still got the most attention and remained the best maintained by the deck gang. Sheppard, though, made sure that both sides of his ship were maintained the same. He was not going to create a false impression of the true nature of his command.

  When they arrived at the passage door to Sheppard’s in-port cabin on the starboard side forward, just aft of Number II main battery turret, Corporal Pease posted himself at parade rest outside. Sheppard entered and was greeted by his steward, Officer’s Steward First Class George Washington Carver Jefferson, “Morn’in Cap’n, It is another fine Navy Day,” holding a steaming mug of black coffee for the Captain.

  “That it is, Petty Officer Jefferson, and good morning to you too.” Sheppard smiled, he never tired of this morning ritual that he had with Jefferson ever since he had met him on his second command, the light cruiser Lancaster. Jefferson, by hook or crook, had managed to remain with Sheppard on each of his ships since that time. If what Admiral Hamblen said was true, Sheppard could make their relationship permanent as a flag officer.

  “Captain, would you like the usual for breakfast, or something special? I whipped up some blueberry muffins this morning.”

  “Jefferson, those muffins sound wonderful, I’ll have them along with the usual.”

  Corporal Pease made a loud knock and ushered in Radioman First Class Sinnett with the morning message boards. As was his custom, Sheppard would read and initial each message that had come to Argonne during the night. Usually, Ted Grabowski, Sheppard’s executive officer, had seen them already and designated any action that was needed to be taken by Argonne’s officers before they got to the Captain. Sheppard could then serve as a double check that everything, as it was this morning, had been properly assigned. In addition to messages directed only to Argonne, there were also messages that were sent to AIGs that included Argonne—in the case of one this morning sent to Scouting Forces Atlantic by Admiral Ingraham.

  Jefferson entered Sheppard’s stateroom and set out a plate of ham, two eggs fried, corn beef hash and bacon, as well as a dish with three hot muffins wrapped in a linen napkin and a plate with a stick of butter. Jefferson always marveled how Sheppard could eat as much as he did and remain fit and slender.

  Sheppard took his time eating as he knew this would be the only peaceful period of his workday. In addition to the morning message boards, he was given a copy of the local morning newspaper, the Philadelphia Enquirer. The war news was getting worse. General MacArthur had been forced to retreat off of Luzon onto the Island of Corregidor. Sheppard knew that with the Pacific fleet bottled up in Pearl Harbor, where the narrow channel was blocked by wrecks; there was no hope of relief. It was inevitable that the Japanese would soon have possession of the Philippines and with that conquest, have a free hand throughout Southeast Asia.

  No sooner had Jefferson cleared away the breakfast dishes and place setting than his personal yeoman Petty Officer second class Brewster entered with the Captain’s schedule for the 18th of May 1942. Sheppard noticed that the first meeting was with the shipyard concerning the installation of the new propellers on Argonne. Officially the reason for the docking, he wondered why an additional meeting was needed beyond the routine daily progress meeting with the Engineer.

  Corporal Pease knocked and announced Argonne’s new engineer, Commander Christopher Peterson, who entered with a short stout man in a tweed jacket and bowler hat, whose identity Pease did not know. Sheppard rose greeting his guests with a smile, hand shake and a warm, “Good morning, gentlemen. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  As expected both men nodded. Before Sheppard could say anything, Jefferson entered carrying a gleaming silver tray of mugs and a thermos pitcher of hot strong coffee with a sugar bowl, creamer, and spoons.

  Chris started. “Captain, this is Mr. Arthur Hess, the yard supervisor assigned to oversee Argonne’s refitting here in Philadelphia.”

  “Mr. Hess, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. How can I help you this morning?”

  “Captain, may I say that it is a genuine honor to meet the hero of the Battle of Cape Vilan.”

  “Mr. Hess, the real heroes of that battle are all around you. It was the crew of Argonne that achieved the victory in conjunction with the fine crews of the other ships of Admiral Hamilton’s task force.” Embarrassed, Sheppard wanted to change the subject quickly. “What brings you to Argonne this morning?”

  “Captain, I am not really the yard supervisor to oversee your refit—that would be Mr. Gregg Feldman. My job in the shipyard is supervisor of the propeller foundry and machine shop. As you know all the propellers of the Navy are made right here at the Philadelphia Navy Yard. We are very proud of that distinction, and with the Superintendent’s and Bureau of Construction and Repair’s blessing have embarked on an extensive research project to improve the durability of your propellers.”

  “Mr. Hess, that sounds very interesting but how does it affect Argonne?”

  “Captain, I know from talking to Commander Peterson that you are aware of the erosion problem with the propellers on this class of battle cruisers. When the lead ship of the class, Santiago, came back to Fore River for her post shakedown availability, everyone was surprised at how badly her propellers were eroded and her speed affected in only six months. The Bureau began an immediate investigation to find a better material with which to make large high power screws. There were two promising alloys. The first was a nickel, copper, aluminum, iron and manganese alloy with some other elements in small percentages called Monel K500. The second was a high chromium stainless steel. Both are believed to have much better erosion characteristics than the aluminum bronze with which your old propellers were made.”

  “Mr. Hess, that is very good to hear, but how can Argonne help you in this effort?”

  “Captain, the Bureau contracted with us to make a full set of four of each material. We finished the Monel ones last week. I’ll tell you that K500 is tough stuff to work with. We went through a full year’s worth of tool bits smoothing down the casting. The stainless steel was much easier to work. Let me get to the point.

  “Captain, we are going to put one set on Argonne, and the other set on the next Santiago class battle cruiser to dock. It may well be Belleau Wood, but having seen the extent of her damage it probably will be one of the others. Since both sets are currently available, the Bureau thought that since you are here, you might as well get your choice.”

  “Mr. Hess, do you have a background in metallurgy?”

  “Yes, Captain, but I am a little behind the latest research on these alloys erosion characteristics. My expertise is more in casting than those details of alloy metallurgy. I really can’t give you any more information except that we have seen Stainless Steel tend to crack in solutions with chloride salts at high temperature. That should not make a difference in this application.”

  “Well, Mr. Hess, if it is my decision, I would like to try the Monel propellers, solely on the basis of how tough they were for you to machine.”

  “Captain, that would have been my choice also. Both materials are stronger than the old bronze ones. As a result they are somewhat thinner at the tips. The only change you will notice is the onset of cavitation being at a slightly higher speed.

  “We hope that you will give them a good trial and spend as much time as you can at high speed. When you get back, we’ll send divers down to inspect and take measurements on the blade wear.”

  “Mr. Hess, we on Argonne will be happy to do what we can to support your trial.” Sheppard asked, “When do you think the propeller change will be
completed?”

  “Captain, you have the highest priority in the shipyard. My orders are to have the change completed by early tomorrow night. We will have four gangs of men simultaneously installing your new screws. The old ones are already removed and the tail shaft surfaces inspected. New keys have been manufactured of the same K-monel. We have been varnishing the mating surfaces of your current tail shafts to minimize the electrical connectivity between the Monel and steel.

  “Whoa, Mr. Hess, I am afraid you are way beyond this gunnery specialist’s understanding. I trust you to do your best for Argonne.”

  “Thank you, Captain, but from what your officers tell me, you are far more than just a gunnery specialist.”

  Embarrassed, Sheppard changed the subject. “Is there anything else?”

  Taking their cue, both men got up to leave. As Mr. Hess left, Chris Peterson hung back. “Captain, I am sorry that I introduced Mr. Hess incorrectly. He has been here every day fussing about the propeller removal, making sure that everything else was also being addressed. We have all gotten comfortable in going to him with our problems with any of the work being done by the yard. I assumed he was the supervisor in charge of our yard period.”

  “Chris, it would be an easy mistake to make. Unfortunately, it does lead to something I need to address with the superintendent though. If Mr. Feldman is an unknown to you as Chief Engineer, his absence does not speak well of his capabilities.

  “How have the repairs to the hanger, side protective system and bridge been progressing? Will everything be finished with the completion of the propeller change, or will we need additional time alongside in the yard?”

  “Captain, everything should be finished by midnight tomorrow, but there will still be a lot of wet paint in the morning.”

  “Very well, Chris, but make sure the yard does not paint the hanger!”