Chester Hill 1988
A MISSION THAT BECAME DIPLOMATIC
In late 1943 on what I believe was our last Atlantic crossing we were escorting a Gibralter-to-New York convoy and passing south of the Azores. The screen commander, Captain A. J. Greenacre, COMDESDIV 26 riding in the WILKES ,ordered Swanson to break away from the screen and proceed to Ponta Delgado on the island of Sao Miquel and make contact with two non-belligerent tankers waiting in the harbor there, as they wanted to come out and join up with our convoy, knowing that U-Boats were not too choosy about the flags flying on tankers those days. Captain Robertson and I prepared a message for transmission to the neutral Azores stating our intention of entering the harbor there, in compliance with a very newly signed treaty between the Allies and neutral Portugal. I do not recall whether the proper routing was by way of London or Lisbon, but in any event the message did not seem to have its intended result. Not until forty-five years later did I learn that there was another (secret) reason for our mission, and I was glad to learn that I had not goofed my small part in the communications network but other forces were at work. It seemed that we were being used to test the sincerity of the Portuguese in signing the new treaty. Anyway-----
As we approached the harbor we were met by a very insistent 110 – foot patrol boat who made no bones about refusing us, a belligerent man-o-war, the right to enter the port , since we were not in any apparent distress. Our ex officio ship’s translator, Lt. David Jenckes, handled the bull horn for a bit of conversation whilst we steamed side by side with her 3 inch gun and our four 5-inchers trained on each other. I’m still not sure about all the details but it sort of ended up with our implying to him something about needing fuel. In any event, we gave them a final “WE ARE ENTERING THE HARBOR!” and proceeded on in. There were our tankers, a Norwegian and a Swede, tied up outbound, starboard side to the quay. Having had the little difficulty with the Patrol Boat and noticing some people on shore trying to get our attention, Captain Robertson told me to get into my blues while he did the same, planning to make contact with the American Consul.
Meanwhile, we were making a 180 degree turn to port in order to tie up outbound, starboard side to a Portuguese destroyer. We also were requesting a fuel barge to come alongside, and putting the Captain’s gig in the water to use for another purpose. The leading person on the dock turned out to be the American Consul himself, and he was offering the Captain ride with him to visit the Governor. No one else was to come ashore.
My orders from the Captain were to take the gig, now in the water outboard, and visit the two tankers with verbal sailing orders for them. I boarded the almost empty, high-riding Swede first, and at the Jacob’s ladder where her Captain met me gave me his instructions, through an interpreter: Get up steam with as little smoke as possible. Watch our gangway closely for our Captain’s return aboard. When you see us casting off, do the same and follow the Norwegian out behind us.
My call on the Norwegian Captain was essentially the same, except that he was a very pleasant and jovial type with perfect English, who insisted that I stay awhile in his beautifully appointed and spacious cabin for a beer and pleasant chatter about how things were going in the world. I could not refuse him but made my departure as soon as I could graciously break away and returned to Swanson with the boat. Knowing there was little chance of getting ashore and that we wouldn’t have much time for Christmas shopping after reaching New York, I made a quick purchase from a bum boat of a gift for my then fairly new girl friend. I’m looking at it now as I write this – a beautifully inlaid wooden stationary box with a picture of an ox cart on the lid.
Mean while, Captain Robertson was returning from his visit ashore and we were soon off and gone with our charges astern, picking up the whaleboat on the way. As we set course outside to rejoin the convoy our new friend, the patrol boat dipped his colors to us and we returned the salute.