* * *
21st January 1944
Carol Rogan
East Sydney
Australia
Dear Harold,
You won’t know what to think at getting a letter from me but first I will explain. I am an Australian girl my age is just eighteen. Tonight is January the 20th 1944. On my bed next to me is my 17 year old sister. She has just finished reading “True Detective magazine.” She and I just read a story about you and those other prisoners who tried to make that prison break. We felt very miserable when we read about you and I said a prayer for you. I have never been in prison myself but I have a pretty good idea what “hell” it must be. I don’t ever go out much down here. Australia is a pretty quiet place you know. There’s no night clubs or like of any description. The “Yankee” soldiers see it a lot different to back home. I have 6 sisters and two brothers. My young brother is just 2 months old. He’s a little ginger headed bloke. He’s lovely.
My sister here and I left home a month or so back and came up north. It’s about a thousand miles from home. We get awful homesick so we’re going home on the 15th February and never going to wander for a long time.
Although after the war we are going to be stewardesses on a ship going from here to America so I’ll probably call in and see you. That’s if you’re allowed to see visitors.
I am a waitress. I work in a large hotel. I wait on all kinds of people, mostly rich people. I often wish I was a little better off but I don’t mind being a good hard working girl. I have 2 sisters who are machinist. They have been at their jobs 8 years but my other sister and I are the two tom-boys. I suppose we’ve have worked in “chocolate factories” woolen mills” and all kind of places but it’s fun. We like a change now and then.
The large town hall clock has just struck 11 o’clock and all my workmates have just came home from the pictures and they are all talking about their romances. You know when girls are at that silly age and they won’t stop talking about who they have been out with, funny we two never bother going out much. I don’t think the girls can understand it. We are said to be attractive but that’s neither here or there.
Well I really don’t know what to say to you in this letter only I hope you don’t get very miserable for your not really missing much not the way the world is today with all this war and killing and one thing and another.
I know you aren’t as tough as they make out you are when I read about how you tried to keep your dead mate afloat when they shot him. I knew then you must be a pretty decent bloke.
Well Harold I suppose you’re tired of my silly girlish rambling so I’ll close. But remember don’t get too miserable or down hearted for there’s 2 “Aussie” girls who are praying and thinking of you and they both wish you all the luck in the world so goodbye for now Harold and keep your chin up. I think you’re a fine fellow.
Lots of luck
Carol Rogan
P.S. Please write soon and if you ever need any little thing let me know.
Battle of Alcatraz
The Battle of Alcatraz was one of the most violent prison escape attempts ever recorded in United States history. Reinforcements were brought in from a variety of agencies to help gain back control of Alcatraz Island. They included personnel from the Bureau of Prisons, law enforcement agencies, and the military.
May 13, 1946,
Washington D.C.
My Dear Warden Johnston:
Mr. Bennett has just given me an account of the manner in which the courage, bravery and quick thinking of you and your staff prevented the mutiny at Alcatraz from becoming a truly serious calamity.
I would like you and every member of your staff to know of my appreciation and admiration for the outstandingly courageous and intelligent with which you and your officers coped with the revolt. All of you performed a signal service in protecting the public from the desperate criminals with whom you must deal and showed a devotion to duty which I am sure will command the admiration of every good citizen. The fine job you did under extremely difficult and seriously dangerous circumstances will add further to the excellent reputation the Federal Prison Service has earned.
Our sincerest sympathy goes forward to the families of those officers who died shielding the lives of others and our best wishes for a speedy recovery are extended to those who performed their tasks so unselfishly.
Sincerely yours,
Tom Clark
Attorney General
United States of America
Spectators lined the shores of San Francisco, watching the embattled prison. The sounds of gunfire and bombing resonated throughout the city.
On May 2, 1946, six convicts embarked on one of the most violent escape attempts ever made on the Rock. Many historians rank this attempt as the most significant event in the island’s 29-year history as a federal penitentiary, and the contemporary press appropriately labeled it the Battle of Alcatraz. Of the 39 convicts who attempted to escape over the years, Bernie Coy was the only inmate to successfully plot and execute a plan to secure weapons – which were used with deadly consequences. In the wake of the conflict, two correctional officers and three inmates lay dead from bullet wounds, and several others were left seriously injured. This legendary escape attempt would remain a topic of discussion for inmates and guards alike until the prison’s closure in 1963.
Forty-six year old Bernard Paul Coy was a hillbilly bank robber serving out the remainder of a 25-year sentence on the Rock. His escape plan was derived from carefully studying the habits of various guards and their assignments over a period of several months. On May 2, 1946, Coy, with the help of accomplice and former Public Enemy Joseph Cretzer, smeared axle grease over his chest, head, and extremities, and started climbing the west end gun gallery from the juncture at Times Square and Michigan Avenue. Climbing hand over hand, he scaled the barred gallery until he reached the top.
Clinched in his teeth was a small cloth bag that contained a crudely fashioned bar spreader device that was made from toilet fixtures from one of the prison workshops. The device was firmly set between the two bars (approximately 5 inches apart) and by using a small wrench, Coy was able to exert enough force to effectively spread the bars to create an opening nearly 10 inches in width. It was believed that he had also been limiting his intake of food to reduce his body mass. With Cretzer eagerly watching his progress from below, Coy painfully squeezed his body through the opening and made entrance into the west gun gallery.
Officer Phil Bergen later provided his perspective on the progression of events:
Coy’s experienced escape prone eyes, noticed what he thought to be a weakness in the physical structure of one of the gun galleys. The only thing that he had to do in order to put his escape plan in motion, was to distract the attention of the armed officer in the gallery, which he was able to do by creating with the aid of an accessory in the treatment unit, a disturbance which drew the officer off-post. When the officer did return a few minutes later, Coy was ready for him. He pounced on him, overpowered him, knocked him unconscious and took his weapons.
The convicts were now armed, and were able to capture nine unarmed guards and lock them into Cells #402 and #403. These were the end cells located at the juncture of Seedy Street and Times Square. Their escape plans folded when they were unable to locate the key that would unlock the door leading to the recreation yard. The key was bravely concealed by Correctional Officer Bill Miller, who had surrendered all of his keys except the most critical. Miller was able to quietly hide the key in the cell toilet (some references indicate that the key was kept behind the toilet) where he and the other correctional officers were being held hostage.
Coy & Cretzer had also released three other accomplices from their cells. Clarence Carnes (the youngest convict ever sent to Alcatraz), Sam Shockley, and Miran Thompson were serving sentences for violent crimes. The distress sirens that indicated grave trouble at Alcatraz began to wail endlessly, and could be easily heard from the shores of San Francisco. T
he US Coast Guard and Marines were mobilized, and provided demolition and weapon experts. All off-duty correctional officers were brought in to help take back the cellhouse.
Clarence Carnes, at 18 years of age was the youngest inmate incarcerated at Alcatraz as a Federal Penitentiary.
Sam Shockley
Since the takeover occurred after lunch, the majority of inmates were in the Industries building, and the cellblock was largely empty. Marines assisted correctional officers in assembling all of the industry workers into the recreation yard and helped to gather blankets and jackets for the inmates unable to return to their cells.
Inside the cellblock a battle was raging. The inmates, realizing that they were unable to gain access to the recreation yard, became desperate. In a violent rage and cheered on by Shockley and Thompson, Joseph Cretzer took his revolver and leaning against the bars of cell #403, started unloading rounds into the cramped cell. Officers fell in the gunfire; some were critically wounded.
The warden had called together his lieutenants and formulated a strategy to send in strike teams to rescue the captive guards. Lt. Philip R. Bergen was assigned to lead the first team into the cellhouse through the west end gun gallery. Led by Bergen, two guards fired several rounds to clear the corridor. The team rapidly made their assault into the gallery and up the stairs to the first level. As one of the inmates fired rifle rounds at the assault team, Bergen and fellow officers worked feverishly to rescue the officer that had been ambushed by Coy.
Harold Stites was also part of Bergen’s team and courageously returned fire, attempting to suppress the barrage. Stites was no stranger to this type of scenario. In 1938, three inmates rushed him while he was posted in a guard tower. In an attempt to stop them from securing firearms, he was forced to shoot two inmates, one fatally. The 1938 break attempt was one of the most violent in the Island’s history. The tragedy resulted in the death of a correctional officer who had been fatally assaulted with a hammer by inmate named Rufus Franklin.
As Bergen rendered care to the downed officer, Stites continued to lay rifle fire into the cellhouse. In a sudden flash, Stites was struck, and yelled out that he’d been hit. Three other officers were hit by gunfire during this assault. Stites was carried unconscious out of the gun gallery and laid onto a couch. He was quickly examined by the prison’s physician and pronounced dead. Stites would be the first causality, and it was later determined that he had been hit by friendly fire. The other officers were quickly transported by boat back to the mainland to be sent by ambulance to a local hospital.
Officer Donald Martin’s entries in his personal journal relating to the 1946 “Big Break.”
Amid the smoke in the aftermath of the battle, the United States flag was brought down to half-mast in honor of the officers who lost their lives during the siege.
Scenes of Alcatraz at war. Armed with field guns and mortars, the US Marines used heavy artillery to barrage the cellhouse in an effort to regain control.
Warden Johnston showing members of the press the blood-stained wall of cell #403, where four officers were shot in cold blood by Joseph Cretzer.
Hand drawn diagrams by Alcatraz Officer Philip Bergen which chronicle the violent events.
The lifeless bodies of the inmates presented by the medical examiner to the press. Clarence Carnes later commented in a documentary interview, “When they decided to die, I was there... It was on the bottom steps of C-Block, and they were talking about it like ordinary conversation. That struck me... I didn’t know what I expected but I didn’t expect them to casually talk about dying. Coy said, ‘Well... they’re not going to get me...’ Hubbard then said, ‘Well... they’re not going to get me either....’ Cretzer then said, ‘Well, we better save some bullets for ourselves...’.”
Bergen and four other officers returned to the gallery and communicated information from one of the gallery phone lines. It appeared that an inmate was running from cell to cell firing random shots into the gun gallery. At a little after 10:00 PM, the associate warden took a group of 14 officers and burst into the cellhouse, looking to rescue their fellow officers. The team fell under heavy gunfire from the inmates who had positioned themselves on top of Block C. One of the officers was able to close the Block D access door, and then was immediately struck in the shoulder by gunfire. After realizing their chances of escape were over, Shockley and Thompson retreated back into their cells to contemplate how to defend their involvement.
Not knowing the origin of the barrage of gunfire, the Marines started bombing Block D with explosives. The cellblock filled with dense smoke. Coy, Cretzer, and fellow conspirator Marvin Hubbard retreated into the utility corridor as the bombing continued. The Marines drilled holes in the ceilings; lowered hand grenades attached to wires and then detonated the grenades. The concussions were fierce and the prisoners in Block D hid behind soaking wet mattresses with little protection. The barrage of gunfire, mortars, and tear gas was ceaseless. Water from the broken plumbing started flowing from the tiers and flooded Block D.
Robert Stroud, the “Birdman of Alcatraz”, made efforts to end the battle. At 56 years old, he climbed over the railing of the third tier, lowered himself to the second tier, and dropped onto the floor of Block D. In what seemed to be a valiant move, he started closing the front solid steel doors of the six isolation cells to protect the helpless men. Stroud yelled up to Bergen, explaining that there were no firearms in Block D and that those involved had retreated to another section of the prison. He made it clear that many innocent men would die if they continued to barrage them with gunfire.
After nearly 48 hours of battle, the gunfire ceased. In the violent aftermath, Cretzer, Coy, and Hubbard were killed in the corridor. They died from bullet wounds and shrapnel. The mastermind Coy was found dead, and wearing a guard uniform. Officer Bill Miller later died from his injuries. A second officer, Harold Stites, was shot and killed during an attempt to regain control of the cellhouse. Thompson and Shockley were later executed sitting side by side in the Gas Chamber at San Quentin for their role in the murders of both officers. Clarence Carnes received an additional 99-year sentence and was eventually released into free society. He found life on the outside difficult and ultimately died in a federal prison hospital in 1988 at only 61 years of age.
It would take months before the cellblocks returned to any normalcy. The scars on the cement and the cell walls would remain strong reminders until the closure of the prison of the consequences of attempted escape.
Coconspirator and former Alcatraz inmate Clarence Carnes, seen here visiting Alcatraz as a tourist in 1980.
Bernard Paul Coy, 415-AZ
Bernard Paul Coy was the primary architect of one of the most ingenious escape plots ever implemented at Alcatraz. He would be the only inmate in the prison’s history to successfully secure prison firearms.
Reading Coy’s letters from the years prior to his Alcatraz escape attempt, it would be nearly impossible to predict his violent and premeditated break for freedom. His letters articulate what appeared to be a true desire to reform, as is illustrated in these excerpts written to the superintendent of the prison where he was incarcerated on August 30, 1936:
August 30, 1936
Mr. James Hammond:
I regret that this request must be made under the present unfavorable conditions, rather than under circumstances relevant to the continued progress of some noble social service. Please believe me sincere in my regret, Mr. Hammond; and if there is a loyalty of promise incapable of future betrayal, you may be assured, Sir, that your confidence in me, however great or small, shall never be abused.
I become eligible for parole, under the present stature governing similar cases, in October of this year. I should like to go home at that time, Mr. Hammond. I have a position awaiting me in Detroit, Michigan; also one in Elizabethtown, Kentucky. I shall take either of the two, at your discretion. However, I do hold preference to the former named. Without your recommendation, I can hope for little to be done. Won�
��t you do this for me?
It is true, I have served “Time” in other prisons than this one. I served – from 1 to 3 years – in the Wisconsin State Reformatory, at Green Bay. I also served a 5 year sentence in the Wisconsin State Prison, at Waupun. I was paroled on the first sentence and made good. On the latter sentence, however, I could obtain no consideration, due to the fact that I refused to change my plea of Not Guilty, to one of, Guilty, after arriving behind walls. It is a rare occasion when a man is paroled from Waupun unless he changes his plea of Not Guilty. I served the full five years. I was not guilty, and could not plead guilty. The reformatory sentence, on the other hand, was different. I was guilty as charged. And I plead guilty. These former counts, because of my attorney’s refusing to take the stand at the time of trial, were not used against me. This would have been unconstitutional had it come to pass. And I am of the opinion that what is unconstitutional in court is also unconstitutional at any other time or place. The parole board will not further punish me for offenses paid in full. Of this, I am sure.
Since my incarceration, I have made a record which is the envy of everyone. Not one time have I been disobedient, or sullen, nor have I set an example which would not be commendable in the best society. I am a firm believer in discipline, and regulate my actions according to my belief. I believe I have proved myself trustworthy. I am president of the Holy Names Society here inside the prison, a Catholic society, and I know that I have acquitted my office satisfactorily every moment. I do know right from wrong, and certainly try to be well thought of by everyone I meet. The Army and the World War, at age seventeen, gave me a background upon which to build a life equally as remarkable as your own; and I may yet put the right foot first. I am not too proud to ask for help, nor too weak to win if refused. I am not guilty of any crime and have nothing of which to be ashamed. Your will is my determination, Sir, in prison or, at home. More than this no man can promise.
Letters from Alcatraz Page 29