Indianapolis

by Lynn Vincent

  Pilot Adrian Marks, who landed his PBY-5 Catalina in the open sea to rescue Indy survivors.

  USS Cecil J. Doyle skipper W. Graham Claytor (center) and his crew.

  When found, survivors Troy Nunley (left) and Joseph Van Meter (right) were “riding a rolled-up floater net cowboy style, with sharks circling,” their USS Register rescuers reported.

  USS Bassett rescuer Seaman Bill Van Wilpe.

  An Indianapolis survivor is transported to an ambulance from Base Hospital #20 at Peleliu.

  (L to R) Bernard Bateman, A. C. King, and Erick Anderson, recuperating at Base Hospital #20, Peleliu, August 5, 1945.

  Known for her kindness, Eva Jane Bolents treats Vincent Allard at Base Hospital #18, Guam. Several survivors proposed marriage to Eva Jane.

  ADM Spruance awards Purple Hearts to survivors (L to R) Glenn Morgan, J. J. Moran, and Louis Bitonti.

  Emperor Hirohito meets with his War Council.

  VADM Matome Ugaki prepares to make his final flight, August 15, 1945.

  Japanese forces surrender in the Philippines. On the near side of the table, at center, is the Japanese commander GEN Tomoyuki Yamashita. Across from Yamashita, second from the left, is LTG Jonathan Wainwright, who, as Allied Commander, surrendered at Corregidor Island in 1942 and became the highest-ranking American POW of the war. At the opposite end of the American side of the table is Commodore Norman C. Gillette, who can be seen just to the left of Yamashita’s head. Gillette was acting Philippine Sea Frontier commander when Indianapolis sank.

  During the court-martial, Hashimoto draws a chart showing his track from Japan to the Philippine Sea.

  McVay during his court-martial.

  Surviving officers and sailors called to testify at the court-martial of Captain McVay.

  Thomas Ryan, the Navy judge advocate, or prosecutor, who tried McVay.

  These key figures were at odds over McVay’s court-martial. ADM Ernest King and Navy Secretary James Forrestal (left and center) supported the trial. ADM Chester Nimitz (right) did not.

  McVay receives warm greetings from the survivors and their wives at the first survivors’ reunion in July 1960.

  McVay and his wife, Louise, at the 1960 reunion.

  Indy’s “5th Division” at the 1960 reunion (L to R): R. B. McLain, Felton Outland, Louis Bitonti, Robert Schaffer, William Simpson, Norman Krueger, Richard Stephens, Bryan Blanthorn, Donald Beatty, Talbert Green, and Archie Farmer (lower front).

  Senator John Warner of Virginia.

  Senator Bob Smith of New Hampshire led the Senate effort to exonerate McVay.

  Rep. Julia Carson (D-Indiana) at left, and Rep. Joe Scarborough (R-Florida) in gray suit, look on as a young Hunter Scott advocates exoneration for CAPT McVay. Survivor Buck Gibson (in American flag shirt) is in the background, along with McVay’s son, Kimo (in red blazer).

  ADM Donald Pilling, Vice Chief of Naval Operations.

  CAPT William J. Toti, the last skipper of the submarine Indianapolis.

  (L to R): Unidentified, Eugene Morgan, Glenn Morgan, Richard Paroubek, Mike Kuryla, John Spinelli, Buck Gibson, Bob McGuiggan, Cleatus Lebow, Paul Murphy, and Lyle Umenhoffer stand before SSN-697, the cruiser Indianapolis’s namesake sub.

  Mochitsura Hashimoto (center) served as a Shinto priest in his later years.

  From the deck of the submarine USS Ohio, Jason Witty, grandson of Indy survivor Eugene Morgan, spreads his grandfather’s ashes near the site of the sinking, fulfilling Morgan’s final wish that he be returned to the waters of the Pacific with his lost shipmates.

  Hashimoto’s granddaughter Atsuko Iida and her sons at the 2005 survivors’ reunion.

  Survivor Donald McCall with LtCol (Ret.) Oliver North.

  (L to R): At the 2005 survivors’ reunion, Mel Jacob, Vic Buckett, Harold Bray, Navy secretary Gordon England, Jim Jarvis, and Woodie James.

  L. D. Cox rides in the 2005 survivors’ parade in downtown Indianapolis.

  Art Leenerman (left) and Earl Riggins share the survivors’ book.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  To God, for choosing us as storytellers for this incredible project, and for always going before us along the journey. Thank you for every little step up the mountain, and each slide in to the valley that brought us here together.

  To the USS Indianapolis Survivors Organization and the members of the USS Indianapolis Legacy group, we give you a million and one thanks. There were so many Indianapolis crew and family members who took us in and shared their stories, their love, and their support that we could write another book and fill it easily. To each and every one of you—thank you for allowing us to spend time with your husbands, fathers, grandfathers, brothers, and uncles, so that they would feel comfortable enough to share, some for the first time, their experiences aboard the Indianapolis. Suzanne and Craig Baumann, Julia Berg-Stahel, Dale and Rhonda Bogard, the Brays, the Bucketts, Bonny “Sailor” Campbell, Dean Cox, the Draytons, Shirley King Ezel, the Fortins, DeeDee Gutierrez, Cheeky Hampton, the Harrells, Juaneta Hershberger, the Horvaths, the Howisons, the Hupkas, the Jarvis family, Mary Larson, the Lebows, the Leenermans, the Lopez family, the Maldonados, Marcella McGinnis, DJ and Rod Melotte, the Millers, the Modishers and Shores, the Nunleys, the O’Donnells, the Outlands, the Procai and Perchyshyn family, Kaden Streck and Carissa Rosenbhom, Dennis and Adria Smith, the Stamm family, Janet Goff Stefan, Charline Summers, Ryan Summers, the Twibles, Kenny Umenhoffer, Missy Vandyke, Jason and Staci Witty, the Witzigs.

  Paul and Mary Lou Murphy deserve some of the biggest thanks possible. For returning the phone call of a naïve twenty-one-year-old, who had only an enormous respect for the story, and the idea to share it with the world. It felt more like a dream than reality for many years. Paul and Mary Lou invited Sara to her first Survivors’ reunion in 2001, and stood by her as her biggest champions for years.

  We also want to especially thank Mary Lou for her invaluable work as editor of the seminal book Only 317 Survived. Authored by the survivors themselves, the book is a collection of first-person accounts. Mary Lou conceived the idea for the book in 2002, collected and typed the men’s stories, and found a publisher who bound them into a hardcover book. For us, Only 317 Survived provided both first-person accounts of survivors who had already passed on, and crucial details of the men’s stories that did not appear in other forms, such as articles, Navy documents, and interviews that we conducted ourselves. Thank you, Mary Lou, for this great work of love that so honors the brave men of Indianapolis.

  Harold and Steph Bray, when Paul and Mary Lou passed the Survivors Organization torch to you, there was nothing but love, respect (and the best hugs ever) that came our way. Thank you for championing us and always being among the first people to show us you had our backs.

  Jim and Sandi Belcher—you both have been tremendously supportive and helpful in our efforts to get the Indianapolis story told, and the work you’ve done to reunite a large and incredibly diverse group of Indy family and friends is nothing short of awe inspiring. Thank you. Toyoko, we thank you for sharing the story of James, and your beautiful love story.

  Adolfo Celaya, we still chuckle about the first time Sara showed up at your door to do an interview. You wondered what in the world a young girl like her wanted to know about your story. But you invited her in and shared one of the most incredible stories we’ve heard. Even better was joking about being fellow high divers. Sara was a platform diver, Celaya jumped off the high side of a ship, seventy-three years earlier. Almost the same, right?

  From the first time Sara received a letter from Kayo, thanking her for the milkshake at Steak N’ Shake, to the visit to Chattanooga in 2017, the love and support shown by survivor Louis “Kayo” Erwin and his family has been one of the many driving forces that helped get the Indianapolis story out there.

  To survivor Don McCall and the McCall family. Jeff, thank you for everything you’ve contributed at the reunions, and for the help you’ve given to share your dad’s story. Skip, your early suggestion
of the seminal Spruance biography, The Quiet Warrior by LCDR Thomas Buell, served as a foundation and a compass for all that came afterward. And Peggy, we have so much respect and gratitude for your role in the Survivors Organization, and for all the information and assistance you’ve given us. You’ve made a huge impact on all the lives you’ve touched, and we’re thankful to you for it.

  Survivor Glenn Morgan was one of the very first to begin this journey with Sara, and it took a lot of work to prove to Glenn that Sara was made of the right stuff to tell his story . . . but once that happened, the love and support given by Glenn, and his son, Tom, and Tom’s wife, Sharon, were unmatched. Sharon and Tom were among those who embraced Lynn as a dear friend when she entered this journey, and we so appreciate that. Our friendship with the Morgan family will be treasured always.

  To Dick Thelen and the Thelen family. We never felt more loved than when we finally made it to the receiving end of your delightful sarcasm and good-natured ribbing. You guys are the best, and we couldn’t thank you enough for the support over the years, and all the laughs we’ve shared. And Dick, thank you for giving us access to all your stories, photos, and albums—we owe an enormous debt of gratitude to your lovely wife, JoAnne, for keeping an incredible collection of Indianapolis history.

  John Woolston, you started out as an acquaintance and lent us your expertise, both as an eyewitness to this historic event, and an expert witness as the junior damage control officer . . . but you quickly became a dear friend, and like family to Sara. Thank you for everything you gave us to make sure we got the story right. And thank you for the many fantastic conversations we shared over a glass of wine, or our new favorite, shaved ice!

  To the survivors, now gone but never forgotten, who called Sara weekly . . . this book is especially for you. You always timed your calls perfectly when she needed an extra kick in the butt: Victor Buckett, Frank Centazzo, LD Cox, Clarence Hupka, Sal Maldonado, Troy Nunley, and Lindsey “Zeb” Wilcox—We know you’re all up there keeping an eye on us, and we hope you’re proud.

  Earl O. Henry, Jr., and his lovely wife, Marilyn, we are so grateful for your faithful support. It was such a privilege reading through the 160 pages of letters that your sweet father, LCDR Earl O. Henry, Sr., wrote to your mother, Jane. Every spring and summer, the oak trees in Lynn’s yard come alive with birds of every color—mountain bluebirds, red-tailed hawks, green willow flycatchers, yellow Western king birds. Lynn has named this area the Earl O. Henry, Sr., Memorial Bird Sanctuary in honor of your dad (because, well, she kind of has a historical crush on Earl, Sr.!) Thank you, Earl, Jr., for keeping his legacy alive through group talks and by sharing his bird paintings with the world. We wish we could have known him.

  Michael Emery, for everything you do to preserve the story of your uncle, and for traveling around the country to support our efforts, thank you. Sara would also like to add a special thank you for being the first lost-at-sea family member to grant her an interview.

  And the many lost-at-sea families who have since shared the stories of their loved ones with us, and who work so hard to keep their legacies alive—Jae Anderson, Michael Annis, the Barksdales, Edwin Crouch, Kristine Connelly, Rebecca Dalrymple, Joni Deaver, Bob Dollins, Michael Emery, Paul Everts, James Fasthorse, Fred Harrison, Kathy Lipski, Katherine Moore, Russ Neal, Jaclyn Bradley Palmer, Tom Rhoten, Cecil Trotter, and Cindy Wilson. Thank you.

  Elko Perchyshyn, the “guy who signs the checks for the men who carried the bomb.” Your friendship, your sense of humor, and the support you’ve given us over the years has been essential to this book’s success . . . and for everything you do on top of that to help the survivors, as well as to honor your uncle, Earl Procai.

  To the rescuers, some just teenagers at the time, who bravely risked your lives to save these men, we thank you repeatedly. Eva Jane Bolents-Savel, George Barber, James Bargsley, Dabny Doty, Charles Doyle, Tom Gray, Bill Fouts, Al Lederer, Albert Lutz, Jack Paul, Malcolm Smook, William Van Wilpe, and L. Peter Wren—thank you for representing your fellow shipmates and giving us this important part of the Indianapolis story. And to Tom Balunis, the Houghtons, Etta McLendon, Bill Milhomme, and the friends and family of the rescue crew who work hard to preserve and share their accounts, we thank you.

  To the Gwinn and Marks families—if not for Chuck and Adrian, we would not be able to tell these stories today. Beyond discovering and rescuing the men from the water, they were angels who became friends to many. To Alexes Shuman, Norma Gwinn, Jane and Steve Goodall, and Carol Burnside, we thank you for giving us the personal stories of Chuck and Adrian, and for constantly cheering us on, and inspiring us to keep working hard. We are honored to call you all friends. And David Levine—thank you for providing the crucial document that helped us get the record straight. Just like your grandfather, Adrian Marks, you swooped in to save the day.

  And then there’s Captain William Toti. It is impossible to properly thank Bill Toti without writing an ode or a sonnet. Throughout our research, Bill made himself available at every turn as a subject-matter expert (naval warfare, submarine tactics, naval history and protocol, the exoneration, interpreting ancient midshipman lore found in the Lucky Bag, and more.) We interviewed Bill many, many times, and he also served as a sounding board for our analysis as we uncovered new details about the sinking, the Harris chase, Navy supplemental investigation, and the court-martial. Amidst this gracious donation of his time, Bill continued his work as a tireless advocate for the survivors and families of the lost-at-sea. We also want to thank Bill’s wife, the beautiful Karen Toti, for being so gracious as we took up so much of Bill’s time. And so, Mr. and Mrs. Toti, we deliver to you a googol of gratitude. Our appreciation for you is literally immeasurable.

  To Hunter Scott—now Lieutenant Commander Hunter Scott!—thank you for everything you did to help the survivors press their fight to exonerate Captain McVay. You grabbed the world’s attention, and did what nobody before you could. And from us personally, thank you for sharing your stories, photos, and friendship with Sara over the years. We sat down together at the survivors’ banquet in 2015 and united over the realization that you and Sara shared a bond: that of telling the Indianapolis story, and setting the record straight.

  Senator Bob Smith, you have been such a blessing to us and to the entire Indianapolis family. Thank you so much for helping us with the story, but thanks even more for the unpopular task you took on, putting your reputation on the line to settle a half-century-old question: Was the court-martial of Captain McVay just? It was a question that seemed already to have been answered, repeatedly, by the Navy, an institution that both you and your colleagues held—and still hold—in the highest regard. Your legislative career shows that you always cared more about following your conscience than about how people would judge you for it, and we are so thankful that you took on this great cause. We also very much appreciate the generous spirit and enthusiasm with which you donated your time in providing interviews for this book. Finally, we would like to reprise the applause of hundreds when you warmed up the crowd at the 2017 Survivors’ Reunion with a hilarious, spot-on impression of your friend President Bill Clinton. Unlike most impressions of public figures, this one was based on direct experience!

  Margaret “Ducky” Hemenway, Senator Smith’s former military affairs liaison, who battled valiantly with Senator Warner’s staff, as well as with Navy JAG staff, to get the language approved for Captain McVay’s exoneration. In the fight for justice for McVay, Ducky took many figurative bullets and withering stares from many unhappy people in government. Though our narrative did not take readers through those skirmishes, we want to acknowledge Ducky’s front-line role here, her vital assistance to Senator Smith, and to say, on behalf of the survivors, the lost-at-sea and their families, thank you!

  Atsuko Iida, granddaughter of Mochitsura Hashimoto, we are so thankful for the courage you showed in attending that first Indianapolis reunion, so many years ago. And to your husband, Jahn, for encouraging you in th
at decision. We can’t begin to thank you enough for being the voice of your grandfather, Commander Hashimoto, and your family.

  David Furman, son of Robert Furman and James Nolan, grandson and namesake of James F. Nolan. Thank you for filling in many blanks, and sharing more personal details of the men who helped carry out one of the most important missions in the effort to end WWII. Scott Rifleman, thank you for sharing the notes that your father, Robert Rifleman, recorded about his time on the Indianapolis, serving as a communications officer for Admiral Spruance.

  To members of Admiral Raymond Spruance’s family, including David Bogart and Ellen Holscher—thank you for showing us a side of the admiral that we may never have been lucky enough to learn of: that of a beloved father and grandfather, and a man who you personally admired greatly. It has been a pleasure and an honor getting to know you and call you friends.

  Kim Roller, Honorary Survivor, friend above friends, shoulder to lean, laugh, and cry on . . . and the lady who sacrificed an enormous amount of her time (and her flight attendant vouchers) to help Sara visit survivors across the country. The love and care that Kim, and her husband, Steve, give to the Indy families often goes unrecognized, but is nothing short of tremendous. There are not enough thanks out there to be given, and this book wouldn’t be what it is without your friendship and help . . . and especially the laughs that served as therapy throughout the journey.