RECOLLECTIONS

E.L. Robertson 1986

“ MILNE BAY, NEW GUINEA”

Shortly after the Admiralty Islands assault and not long before the big push at Hollandia the Swanson’s starboard propeller hit some floating debris off the New Guinea coast. To make repairs we had to go into the floating drydock at Milne Bay, on the southeastern tip of New Guinea. By this time Milne Bay had become a back area, and miserable as it was, represented civilization in capital letters especially since no one had been off the ship in several months. There was a rumor that an officer’s club had been established , and that if you pushed and shoved hard enough at the bar you could get as many as two or three drinks before the daily liquor ration ran out. An even wilder rumor was that 800 Army Nurses were billeted in a staging area not far away, and that a hundred or so of these fair warriors appeared every afternoon at the O Club.

Consequently when four o’clock came on the day of our arrival and the Swanson had been snugged into the drydock for a five day overhaul, there was a considerable atmosphere of anticipation in the Wardroom. Those officers fortunate enough to have shore leave on the first day were wearing freshly pressed khakis and their best caps and shoes. I remember watching them shove off in the boat and thinking they were a fine looking lot of young men, tall, athletic and healthy looking: a credit to the ship.

I was on the Quarterdeck shortly after six when the boat returned carrying the same group. They seemed strangely subdued and uncommunicative for individuals who had just come back from making merry at the O Club.

“What’s the matter, did you get there after the grog ran out ?” I asked the Torpedo Officer, Big Hill (so known to distinguish him from his smaller namesake Little Hill, the Communication Officer.)

“No Captain, we had plenty to drink. It isn’t that.” Big Hill paused and then seemed to come to a decision.

“I guess I’d better tell you about it. The fact is, we pushed the Shore Patrol Officer off the end of the dock.”

“You what?”

“Yes sire, we pushed him in, but it sounds much worse than it really was. We didn’t mean to do it. We were only fooling around.”

“I don’t have to explain to you that the Base Commander will take a pretty dim view of what you did. I’ll be certain to hear from him about this. You’d better tell me the details.”

Big Hill spoke for the group. “Captain, we left the O Club just before six so as to catch the six o’clock boat. You have to walk for several minutes down a road lined with coconut palms to reach the dock. We were feeling no pain, but we weren’t drunk, just horsing around a bit. Pretty soon a short puny little ensign, with a voice so squeaky you wouldn’t think he’d reached puberty, came up to us and told us to stop frolicking. He was so ridiculous we couldn’t take him seriously, and we didn’t notice his SP badge, so we told to shut up. When we did this he got furious, he screamed and yelled and his voice got shriller and higher. As a matter of fact we found out later his nickname was Squeaky. Anyway, it wasn’t until after we took his revolver away from him that we noticed the SP badge.”

“You mean you deliberately took a revolver away from and armed Shore Patrol Officer?” I asked. I was aghast.

“Well Captain, he kept waving it at us and threatening to shoot us. We wanted to give it back to him, but he was so squeaky and so mad we were scared he’d really shoot us. We didn’t hurt him any and finally he tried to grab it away from us. In the scuffle he got pushed off the dock. While he was getting out of the water we put the revolver on the dock, got in the boat and shoved off. We saw him pick up the pistol and aim it our way, but he didn’t fire. I guess the water cooled him off.”

“Any of you others have anything to add?” I asked. They didn’t .

“Well then, you are all restricted to the ship pending investigation. This is one hell of a mess gentlemen. You’ve brought no credit to the Swanson.”

Dinner in the Wardroom that evening was a grim and silent meal. After it I went to my cabin to think things over. On the one hand my officers might possibly be tried by General Court Martial for molesting the Shore Patrol Officer and above all for taking his pistol.

Traditionally the authority of the Shore Patrol was unquestionable and those who challenge it anyway had always suffered . On the other hand it seemed to me that Squeaky just might not be the ideal Shore Patrol Officer, and perhaps he had not turned in a perfect performance.

And was it so abnormal for a group of healthy red blooded junior officers who had been penned up aboard ship for several months and then had a few drinks to let off a little steam? There certainly was nothing vicious in what they had done. Besides I needed their full time efforts to run the Swanson. We could hardly stand the distraction of a General Court Martial, which in addition would badly hurt the ship’s morale.

There was a knock on my door, and Little Hill, the Communication Officer, who had the duty that day handed me two incoming dispatches. The first, in plain language, was brief and to the point. “Commanding Officer report to Base Commander.” it read. Oh Boy, I thought, here it comes.

The second dispatch was secret, and had to be decoded. It directed the Swanson to get underway at 0800 the next morning and proceed to Lae, several hundred miles up the New Guinea coast. I reviewed our situation quickly. Our new propeller had been installed and other repairs could wait. Yes, we could make it. I turned to Little Hill.

“How many people have seen this decoded dispatch?” I asked.

“I decoded it myself, Captain. You’re the only other person who has seen it.”

“Good. Don’t let anyone else see it until I tell you to. Now get the boat alongside.”

I walked into the Base Commander’s Office about 8:30 that evening. He was a grizzled Commodore and I was a fresh – caught Commander. He immediately took advantage of this fact.

“Well young man, your officers put on a pretty bad show this afternoon. What are you going to do about it?” he asked.

“Commodore”, I began, “I don’t for one second condone what they did. The authority of the Shore Patrol Officer has to be upheld and my officers flouted it directly. I have considered giving them General Court Martial, but the amount of dislocation which would occur if I had to detach these officers and leave them here at Milne Bay for trial would render my ship nearly helpless. These officers are key officers; I can’t run my ship in time of war without them. Another thing should be considered. We have been up the slot for four months under the constant threat of enemy action.

The pressure from this has been great. When my officers found they would be released from it for a brief period in a back area, and that they would have the opportunity to have a few drinks and enjoy the company of women at your fine base, what is more natural than they should kick up their heels a little bit?

You do not realize sir, what a privilege it is for us to be here. Therefore I have decided to remove that privilege from those who misbehaved today. This to them is a severe punishment after four months up the slot.”

“I do not consider five days restriction to be adequate punishment.” The Commodore replied.

I heaved an inward sigh of relief. From this remark it clear that the Commodore was still unaware that we were sailing in the morning. With luck we could be gone before he knew it. Now if I could only convince him that my suggested punishment was sufficient.

“It seems to me, sir, that if their conduct is reflected in their fitness reports, and if they are restricted-“

“Well, I guess you’re are right.” the Commodore broke in. I knew he also must be thinking of the added work load of a General Court Martial which would be thrust upon his Base if he pushed the matter that far.

“How about coming over to my Quarters for a night cap?”

I arrived back aboard ship a little after ten and called the group of youngsters who had caused all the trouble to my cabin.

“I’ve thought this matter over carefully”, I told them, and I can see no single mitigating circumstance in your behavior. If we were not at war you would most certainly be tried by General Court Martial. As it is, I can’t spare your services. Therefore you are restricted to the ship for the next five days. Any questions?” There were none.

I sent for Little Hill and the Executive Officer after they left my cabin. Together we made the necessary preparations for getting underway at six, not eight o’clock in the morning.

Post Script: I have never heard another word from anybody about this episode.