When we hit the thing, whatever it was, it was big enough and buoyant enough so that the whole bow of the destroyer went up in the air. It cleaned off everything underneath the ship. It cleaned off the sonar, it cleaned off the pit log,* and it also hit one of our propellers. We were up in the air, and then we came down.
War Diary (11 January 1945): At 0021 a heavy shock was felt forward, speed was not materially reduced and charges were dropped on orders of chemical recorder. Lookouts reported wreckage floating down both sides of the ship. At 0023 changed speed to full for new attack, giving O’TOOLE a range and bearing to the contact. At 0028, further amplifying report made to CTG and orders received to rejoin in 60 minutes if contact was not regained.
Farrell: Hitting that thing slowed the ship down. You have to go fifteen knots before you drop depth charges to get away from them. It slowed us down enough so that we weren’t going fifteen knots. The depth charges went off. Now the whole stern of the ship was up in the air.
It was utter chaos for a little while. I got a call from the bridge. “Bill, why the hell did you stop?” They had the pit log. It showed that we were not going.
I looked at the engine revolution counters on the thing and said, “Well, maybe you stopped, but we’re still going.” I thought we’d been cut in half. Except, if we had been cut in half, how could I be talking to him on the telephone? But you don’t think of all those things.
Peters: We had slammed into something, and everything got quiet. The lights went out, and it was just completely silent. Then, eventually, the skipper came on the PA system and said, “This is your captain speaking. I think we got red-dog.” We referred to the German wolf packs as “red-dog.” So we were all jubilant. We had sunk a German submarine!
Gordon: We hit it, we hit this object. I felt it roll under the ship. I knew it had to be a submarine, because I felt it roll as it went under the ship. It wrecked the sonar because the sonar part hung down under the ship. After it damaged that, I had no more control over it.
Buchanan: Now I have to go down to the signal bridge. DuFau is on the signal bridge. There’s this officer leaning over and talking to us. They want it lit up, but they don’t want it lit too long. So we turn on a twelve-inch light. It lit up the whole ocean, and I said, “Oh, Lord, if that’s a submarine, we’ve had it.” Because if they were sitting there underneath us, and they saw us . . . I grabbed a shield to turn it down to a six-inch light.
Divers: When we hit it, everything rattled. I was thinking, “I wonder how cold that water is.” Then everything was quiet, and all I kept hearing was, “Barracks clear! Repair One, Repair One.” They had to send a party to check for damage up forward.
Divers: I didn’t have my life preserver when we hit.
Watkins: Didn’t you wear the belts?
Divers: I had the belts, but I got tired of wearing them because you never knew when you might go down.
Watkins: We had this belt of rubber a few inches wide, and you put it around you.
Divers: You know, I carried that thing the whole time I was on the Mason, and when I got off the ship, I brought it with me. I said, “Let me see this thing, how it works.” I broke that thing, and nothing happened. It didn’t inflate!
Buchanan: They said, “Okay, light it up again.” So they’re right above me and they’re telling me what to do, and I light it up again, and I see these huge beams sticking out of the water. Huge beams. I’ve never seen beams like that even here when they’re doing construction. And we realized we were over some sunken derelict, and we had to get off of it. We were stuck on it! And we backed off. We managed to shake ourselves loose and back off of it.
Gordon: I never questioned that we had hit a submarine. I never heard any different. As a matter of fact, the skipper notified the crew over the loudspeaker. He said, “It looks like we got red-dog.” We showed the lights only long enough to see that there was wreckage, and then they turned the lights out. By that time in the war, the submarines were operating in multiple units—wolf packs. If you sank a submarine, while you were gloating over your kill another submarine would sink you. So we didn’t keep the lights on long; just enough to see wreckage.
But we never got credit for a kill, and I often wondered why. And now I hear the story has come out in recent years that it was a wooden barge of some kind. But I never heard that as long as we were aboard the Mason. That’s something new.
History has proven that in the other military services, any real accomplishments by a black unit were somewhat covered up and put on the back burner. So this was not publicized properly like it would have been done for other ships. They didn’t want to give the black enlisted men the credit like they did the others. If they had given credit, perhaps we would have been looked at differently as a race after the war. I am totally bewildered that it’s been almost fifty years since the ship was commissioned, and the average public doesn’t know that we ever existed. I still ask myself why.
The men of the Mason still argue the question when they meet—Was it a sub? Did they get red-dog? Most of them think not, and the official version concurs. But those who are convinced they did remain resolute.
War Diary (11 January 1945): Illumination by searchlight revealed plainly that the target was wooden derelict, probably a barge about 100 feet by 50 feet. This was reported at 0046. Sound gear and pit log found to be inoperative as a result of the collision. This was reported at 0105 and orders received to take station astern for balance of the night.
Buchanan: We had cut into it pretty deep. We damaged our bow. Water was rushing in. But the guys got mattresses to plug up the hole and made a good watertight thing. Our sonar gear was down. It was bent up under the ship.
And on the way back, we put the pit log on. We knew the Germans were listening for us all the time, so we had to keep the pit log going. That was the only thing that kept the submarines away from us.
Divers: There was a sonar contact, and they said it was a submarine. I know one guy, a sonar guy, who swears up and down that it was a submarine. He even wrote to the German admiralty, to the German government, to find out whether at that date and time there had been a submarine missing. But the official line is that we collided with a barge, with one of the barges that we had tried to sink on convoy NY-119.
We collided with something. It took all our sonar gear off. We bent one of the screws. We didn’t have any protection. I was on the bridge all the time, so I know. We didn’t have any way to detect submarines the exact same way the sonar did.
War Diary (11 January 1945): The newly installed manual control for the pit log proved to be of the utmost value to C-I-C during the latter part of this operation. It was cut in immediately after it was discovered that the pit log swordarm had been damaged and by using the RPM speed scale in the pilot house, the quartermaster was able to inform the C-I-C room of all changes in speed. As a result of this a good C-I-C plot was possible for directing “observant” and lost contact procedure. The extent of damage to the sound gear was not realized until after the target was identified; this included damage to the retraction assembly beyond repair at sea. After-steering helmsman reported excessive while returning to station.
MASON’s visual to CTG 60.11 at 1022 gave report of damage. CTG’s visual 1044 ordered MASON to proceed to Bermuda at best possible speed for emergency repairs and to rejoin as soon as possible, reporting departure to proper authorities when 100 miles from convoy. At 1045 departed from convoy for Bermuda via great circle route course 280 degrees speed 13 knots, port shaft secured to eliminate vibration.
Farrell: We reported to the commodore of the convoy that we couldn’t maintain speed. The ship was jumping around, and we couldn’t maintain speed. We had to make some emergency repairs. First, they detached one of the DEs to escort us, to screen us while we made repairs. But we couldn’t do it fast enough. They had the DE rejoin the convoy and told us to go to Bermuda.
Divers: We had to leave the convoy. We had to limp back by ourselves.
&
nbsp; Watkins: I don’t know. It was a little slower than we ordinarily traveled because it had only one screw.
Divers: It didn’t seem scary to us at that time because we were young and crazy. We didn’t know any better.
Watkins: Young and goofy.
Divers: I’ll tell you, if I had to do it over again, I’d think twice, since I know I got sense now. But we were all kids.
Farrell: Now, here we’re going along, except, number one, we have no way of telling if there are any submarines down there, because we had no sonar—that was knocked off. We didn’t have a pit log, and we still had a bent propeller. We were finally able to make some temporary repairs, so we could come back on one shaft. We didn’t sleep too good until we got to Bermuda.
Garrison: I was glad we went back, because Bermuda meant warm weather, probably short duty. I wasn’t scared at all. I’m not boasting, but I had confidence enough in that crew. If a submarine surfaced, and they didn’t have their guns operating the minute they surfaced, they wouldn’t have had a chance with the Mason. The most foolish thing that he could have done would be to surface. Now, if he stayed under, submerged, he might have a chance. But with the sonar, we should pick up the torpedo, and might be able to move out of the way. We had about nine 20-millimeter guns. We had one gun called the 1.1, which had four barrels, firing simultaneously. It could fire horizontally or vertically. And you could rake a submarine. I mean, anybody coming topside wouldn’t stand a chance! For that reason, I didn’t fear at all. But I supposed if he hit us in the wrong place, hit the magazines, for example, we could blow up.
The navy trains you to be anxious. You are already prepared, but you are anxious to do what you’re trained to do. So that sort of lessens the fear when you have to do what you’re supposed to do. And when that alarm goes off, you are ready to face whatever comes, whether it be a submarine or an aircraft or another vessel. You’re just trained that way.
Graham: It’s after it’s over and you’re secure from general quarters that you start thinking, “What if that was a submarine that came topside and started shooting at me?” Then you’d start shaking in your boots.
War Diary (19 January 1945): Underway at 0840 for St. George’s Harbor, fueled to capacity, and had local diver inspect sound dome and shafts. Inspection showed conditions satisfactory for trip to New York.
Buchanan: There was this big harbor at Hamilton, Bermuda. I had to go ashore to pick up my prisoner. One of our guys was in the brig there. He’d been sent there while we were repairing the ship. I can’t remember what he’d done.
The U-505 was there, a German submarine. The only thing I kept thinking was, “Why wasn’t I lucky enough to capture that?” Oh, I would have been high on the hog then. When I got down to the barracks that the marines originally had, there were navy guys at the door. They were security for the crew of the U-505. But I went in not knowing what I was walking into; I was just there to pick up my prisoner. I saw these fellows sitting at a table all playing cards. These were the Germans that had been captured. The American sailors told me to go up the road and find where the marines were keeping U.S. prisoners.
So I walked away from there. The Germans were playing cards, but when I found my prisoner, he was cleaning the decks, scraping the decks. The navy security guards for the Germans just had 45s holstered, but the guys guarding our American sailor prisoners pointed rifles right at them. This turned me against the marines because of how they treated the navy guys. The fellow that I had to pick up told me later, “Boy, when I saw you at that door, I was so happy to see you. You don’t know what went on in this place.” So I got him back to the ship, and we went on with the convoy.
The divers in Bermuda went under the Mason to look at the ship, and they said we could get back to New York. We got back to New York and then got into the Brooklyn Navy Yard to straighten out the ship.
* From Integration of the Armed Forces 1940–1965 by Morris J. MacGregor, Jr. (Center of Military History, U.S. Army, 1985), p. 78.
* Short for pitometer log, a device that indicates the speed of a ship and distance run by measuring water pressure on a pitot tube projected outside the ship’s hull.
8
Steaming as Before
The Mason shepherded three more convoys across the Atlantic to Oran, Algeria, in February, March, and April 1945. The U-boats made their final frantic effort to impede the advancing Allies by relaying weather information to the German army as well as attempting to staunch the continuous procession of ships. The men found Algeria both exotic and welcoming. The war diary mentions the good facilities provided by the Mers el-Kébir port authorities. But even as the men picnicked on the beach, the poverty of the Algerian people disturbed them, and they devised ways to get around the rules against giving food to the people. As they made their way to Oran, however, more mundane matters—with their own chow—presented themselves.
Deck Log (8 February 1945): 16–18 Steaming as before. 1700–Inspected crew’s chow consisting of unsavory and tough beef stew, very greasy fried potatoes, delicious beets, salad and cake. Biscuits also were served. Notified Captain, Executive Officer, Supply Officer, and acting commissary steward of unsatisfactory meal. Trouble tracked down to [the man], who cooked the offensive part of meal using his own methods of seasoning. [He] was reprimanded again this time for his careless preparation of crew’s food. Supply Officer and commissary steward taking steps to prevent recurrences.
It is tempting to draw psychological implications from this incident. Imagine how men who still served in the servants ratings must have felt about those who had advanced to the seaman’s branch. But the crew rejects such speculations. “He just acted mean sometimes. We set him straight.”
The DEs had gone on the offensive: hunter-killer groups sank U-248 in February and U-866 in March. One of the DEs that attacked U-866 was the USS Menges (DE-320). In May 1944, while rescuing sailors from the USS Lansdale (DD-426) after a German air attack, the Menges had been hit by the U-371. Though his ship was badly damaged and thirty-one of his crew were killed, Comdr. Frank McCabe refused to abandon his ship. The Menges was towed to Brooklyn Navy Yard where her aft section was joined to the stern section of the USS Holder to make one whole ship. The Holder had been torpedoed by German aircraft on April 11, 1944. The crew kept her afloat so she could be towed, first to Oran and then to New York. The salvageable parts of her forward hull were used for the Menges.
The stories of DE exploits encouraged the Mason’s crew to hope for their own U-boat kill. Contacts continued to alternate with the routines of shipboard life. Vigilance in the face of boredom was the particular challenge of escort duty.
Garrison: Let me explain about the submarine runs we were doing in the spring of 1945. Some were meant to divert the sub, and on some we were actually trying to sink them. The sonar men operated a machine that sent out an echo to a submerged object. You would measure the time between when the sound went out and hit the object and when it came back. That told us whether there really was a sub and how close the submarine was. Then we were called to general quarters. Every man manned his battle station. We would drop depth charges until we were sure that we had hit him, or he had gotten away. Sometimes we’d have what they’d call embarrassing runs. You didn’t really mean to sink the sub as much as just run it away, get it out of there so that we could get on about our business.
When you really wanted to have a kill, the escort commander would assign two or three ships to stay for an hour or so more, if it was necessary, over the area where the depth charges had been dropped. We’d stay until we didn’t get any more contact from him. Sometimes the U-boats sent out debris like oil or mattresses through the torpedo tubes. Anything to make us think we’d hit them, so we would go away. But if you really hit him, he had to come up. Once he surfaced, all the other guns were leveled on him.
Once we assisted a destroyer on a submarine attack, and we did see oil come up. But as I say, we didn’t know whether this guy was faking it or whether it w
as a real hit. So after awhile, we were called off.
War Diary (28 February 1945): Screening as before. 0100–convoy commenced reducing front to three columns, MASON took station on port quarter. 0108–convoy course changed to 077 for passage through Straits of Gibraltar. 0539–Europa Point abeam. 0547–escorts relieved. MASON (senior) with POWERS and GULFPORT proceeded in formation and performed DesLant Gunnery practices, breeches buoy exercises, etc., throughout day while en route to Oran. 1527–Alboran Island sighted, . . . 2206, POWERS reported a human cry in the water. Area was thoroughly searched by all three ships without result. Muster of three ships showed all hands to be present. 2310, formation proceeded toward destination.
The men knew there were many human cries unheard and that the Mediterranean Sea had claimed the bodies of seamen since before history. But there were rescues too.
Divers: I recall one time in the Mediterranean when the convoy ahead of us lost a seaman, a Frenchman. We were at the rear of the convoy. They said, “Watch out for this guy.” We spotted him. He had been in the water for twenty-four hours. We picked him up, but we didn’t have to put him in sick bay or anything. He was just a remarkable specimen of a man.
War Diary (2-4 March 1945): Moored at Mers el-Kébir, Algeria, awaiting orders.
Deck Log (5 March 1945): 08–12 Moored as before. 0805–All final preparations made for Annual Military Inspection. Magazines open; smoking lamp out. 0825–Inspecting party headed by Comdr. Lind, ComCortDiv 80 and consisting of officers from the DE-528–POWERS aboard. AT 0845 all divisions called to quarters and Annual Military Inspection begun. Personnel inspection by Divisions, followed by cleaning station and material inspection ended at 0945 when all hands changed into the uniform of the day (dungarees) for Battle Problems.
Farrell: We passed all our inspections. In fact, I’d visit the other engineering officers and look in at their engine rooms. It’s not for me to say ours was better, but I was pleased at the comparison. On the anniversary of our ship’s commissioning, Captain Blackford awarded citations.
Proudly We Served Page 17