30 April 1938 Nashville Commissioning
“After 22 months I was
transferred (30 April 1938) to new construction USS Nashville, being
commissioned in Camden NJ and the Philadelphia Navy Yard.”
“We had a wonderful Shakedown
cruise to Europe and Britain – my first trip to Paris and other fun. While in
Britain fraternizing with the Brits, we were told to be on the alert for a new
ASW thing called ASDIC. But the Brits
were too smart for us. We did, however, discover the pros and cons of Scotch.”
Shipmate March 2004
Commissioning
a ship is like Plebe Year, you don’t want to miss one but you don’t want to
ever do it again. My guardian angel failed to heed this advice. For twice I was
assigned commissioning details, Nashville
(C43) in 1938 and Cleveland in
1942. From 1938 on with the rapid expansion of the Navy, I suspect many of you
went through this process several times. Both of these light cruisers were
built in the New York Shipbuilding Company in Camden, New Jersey, across the
Delaware River. The winds of war were blowing in the Far East and in Europe.
But in 1938 the United States was mired in a euphoric delusion of peace. The
Navy was manned at 65% complement. Nashville
had a crew of 875. The wartime complement for Brooklyn
class light cruisers was 1,200. The Two Ocean Navy Act of 1940 awakened the
nation to the reality of international affairs. As the Navy began to mobilize,
reserves were brought up permanently manning levels of the Fleet units slowly
to increase to complement.
When
you go to new construction, things are different than reporting to active
ships. You find a dead ship. It takes people, the crew, to bring it to life.
You start from scratch. The philosopher Horace Kallen wrote, “When you start
with nothing you can go anywhere.” There were myriads of instructions for
organizing a ship that were theoretical and very general in nature. Our aim was
to develop a practical ship’s organization that would meld the ship and crew
into a fighting force for the obvious tough times ahead.
There
are so many things to be done in a short time that the only priority was one:
to work on the ship’s organization manual, crew assignment, provisioning ship
stores, developing a database for machinery upkeep and repair, etc. All work
was going on simultaneously. I was involved in crew assignment. Those coming
from the Fleet trickled in. on one day a detail of 500 from the Norfolk
Training Center arrived. A few were veterans, but most were recruits. Each man
had a questionnaire listing his qualifications and experience. These were
helpful in doing my job. I admit possible there were mistakes but only one left
me with chagrin. It happened during the mad house o assigning this large
detail. I placed on recruit on the shell deck of a turret to handle 6-inch AP
projectiles weighing 135 pounds, the sailor weighed 125 pounds. It was clear
from working with these recruits that their civilian careers were quite varied.
We needed three barbers and our search located ten, each with up to `13 years’
experience.
The
above is a sampling only of the commissioning process. Every department and
every man was involved. It was an all hands evolution. After the festivities of
commissioning were over, Nashville
sailed for GITMO to commence training. Training did not stop at GITMO for like
education training never ends; it’s a life long endeavor. We went through the
full catalogue of exercises including a competitive landing force drill. At the
completion, CAPT William W. Wilson
assembled the officers in the wardroom and informed us in no uncertain terms
that he was dissatisfied with our progress. We simply had not reached an
acceptable state of readiness. We junior officers were taken aback for we
thought we had done a great job. We felt the captain’s remarks were a pep talk,
not a dressing down. Apparently we were not going to be court marshaled for our
next mission was a shakedown cruise to Northern Europe and Britain – a most
delightful and exciting trip.
6 June 1938 Shakedown Cruise
Nashville
Shakedown Cruise – Nashville (CL-43) was commissioned in Philadelphia on 6 June
1938. I was a plankowner assigned to the gunnery department. In July we shook
down at GTMO. In early August Nashville departed on a shake down (goodwill)
cruise par excellence to Northern Europe.
The
first port of call was Cherbourg, France, from which leave parties visited
Paris. A Reserve lieutenant, a professor from Penn State, joined Nashville for
the cruise. He offered to guide us on the Paris trip (He and his bride spent
their honeymoon in Paris and he was fluent in French). Steve Carpenter 35, several others, and I joined him for a most
adventure-filled tour. He found us lodgings in a Left Bank pension. Steve and I
shared a large room with a balcony (the tariff $1.50 per day). We ate in the
garden (lunch of filet mignon, French fries, and watercress salad; cost: $1.00
– a bottle of wine was $0.50).
Our
French speaking shipmate led us to a huge department store and commandeered a
sales lady to escort us throughout the store and help us with shopping.
Afterwards Steve and I felt confident enough to go sightseeing on our own. We
stopped at a street side restaurant. Steve spoke a bit of French, but I did
not. He left me at a table while he visited the men’s room. A burly waiter
asked me to order. The only thing I could think of was beer and apparently my
version was close enough to his language that he took my order. We had a couple
more, then decided to visit the Louvre. Before long we needed to visit a
restroom. The quest became urgent so we literally ran through the museum
looking for a restroom. We held the world record of touring the Louvre – 30
minutes. Some of us visited a nightclub (CAPT Wilson also was present) about
which I will limit comment to the fact that waitresses were scantily clad in
shoes. Later we were escorted through the International House that was famous
for bedroom replicas of Classical French architecture. Even in today’s relaxed
atmosphere I will not discuss our guide’s commentary.
One
day after we returned to Cherbourg several of us were strolling through a
suburb. It was drizzling so we wore raincoats. We passed some children playing
in their yard. When their mother saw us (in uniform) she rushed out to gather
up her kids yelling “Allemande!” as she rushed them into the house. In the fall
of 1938 the winds of war were swirling over Europe, creating a tension that was
quite evident.
The
next ports of call were in Scandinavia – Oslo, Norway, and Copenhagen, Denmark.
Because our First Class Cruise also visited these ports in 1935, my memory of
these two visits is confused. So comments of Nashville visiting will be limited
to a few items that made a lasting impression. Oslo, Norway, will always be
remembered as a city of superb pastries and, unadulterated milk and a most
friendly people. Copenhagen, Denmark, has the delightfully beautiful statue of
the Little Mermaid at the entrance to the Harbor – a character from a fairy
tale by Hans Christian Andersen; the world famous Orrefors crystal that I
prefer to cut glass; and the 150-year old Tivoli Gardens amusement park with
the great restaurant. The bicycle must have been their main mode of
transportation for there are 300,000 in Copenhagen.
Leaving
Scandinavia, Nashville’s last port of call (we thought) was Portsmouth,
England. Before we left Norfolk we were told to get information on the British
Asdic (SONAR in American). With the war just over the horizon, the Brits were
more interested in making sure that if the United States would not join the
Allies at the beginning but remain neutral. They entertained us royally with
wining and dining. There was a formal reception at which we wore full dress
uniforms. Afterwards British officers escorted us for a night on the town,
lending us civilian attire to keep our uniforms pure. Finally we retrieved our
uniforms and returned to Nashville. Somehow Steve Carpenter left his railroad
trousers ashore but they were returned the next day by a British launch. All
this “Hail, fellow, well met” was fine but I don’t know if anyone learned much
about Asdic.
The
next day Nashville was ordered to Gravesend, the port of London, in the River
Thames. On anchoring, our berth was so near to shore that on the tide-change
the motor launches were used to swing the ship away from the shore. Captain
Wilson reported to the Embassy and returned with classified orders to proceed
to Portland to pick up 25 million dollars in gold bullion, payment for weapons
replaced by the United States for those lost at Dunkirk.
Upon
arrival we moored alongside a rather run down looking wharf. Preparations were
made for loading the shipment and for security. On the portside the ship, next
to the wharf, the 20MM battery was manned, augmented by the Marines, with
machine guns, Browning automatics and rifles. I was in charge of the unarmed
loading party. Gazing at the firepower on the ship and visualizing an attack
from shoreward, I noted that our party would be in the middle of any exchange
of fire – unfavorable odds of our survival.
The
shipment had not arrived by noon. The captain became increasingly concerned for
Nashville had to cross the bar before low water and the tide was ebbing. The
shipment finally arrived in an unescorted dilapidated old biscuit truck.
Britain opted not to transport the gold
in a well-escorted convoy along direct highways. Although it took longer the
subterfuge of routing this unmarked truck by back roads was Britain’s way of
providing security. The loading was completed without incident. The captain was
asked to sign a statement in the invoice that read, “X” number (I don’t
remember the exact figure) of boxes containing gold. He insisted that the words
“said to contain” be added.
After
a routine trip home Nashville moored in the Brooklyn Shipyard in view of the
vast population of the area. The U.S. plan for receiving the shipment was quite
different from the British method. A convoy of armored trucks escorted by
police cars and motorcycles, fire engines, and ambulances. Noise was deafening,
with horns and sirens blasting and lights flashing. I don’t know if the press
covered our arrival, but I feel certain that if any hijackers had aspiration
for the gold, they would have been thwarted by traffic jams and hordes of
pedestrians.
Thus
ended peaceably but noisily Nashville’s wonderful shakedown cruise.
21 September 1938 Shipment of Gold
Getting underway 21 September from Portland England,
with 25 million dollars in British gold bullion aboard Nashville arrived at Brooklyn Navy Yard 30 September 1938,
offloaded the gold, and returned to Philadelphia 5 October 1938.
Shipmate May 2002
“Suddenly we were ordered to Graves End in the
Thames River. The Captain received secret orders and we charged over to
Portland to pick up a shipment of gold – a transfer of funds for war material.
The shipment was due in time for Nashville to sortie on a full tide. It was
late. The Captain was very upset. Finally two old, beat-up biscuit trucks
arrived with the loot. I was in charge of the loading party on the dock. We
were not permitted to carry arms, but every machine gun in the ship and the
Marine detachment was fully deployed. We
took on 2.5 million dollars in gold and departed for the US. On arrival at the
Brooklyn Ship Yard, police cars and fire engines – all sounding sirens and
flashing lights – arrived at great speed and removed the gold.”
End of Article
30 April 1939 Nashville at the New York
World’s Fair
President
Roosevelt considered the New York World’s Fair of 1939 important enough for
major naval participation. He ordered
the Commander-in-Chief of the U.S. Fleet (CINCUS), ADML Claude C. Bloch ‘99, to
take the Pacific Fleet to the World’s Fair.
Enroute the Fleet engaged in Fleet Problem XX in the Lesser
Antilles. Upon arrival on the East
Coast, the U.S. Fleet, now including ships of the Atlantic Squadron, moored at
bases along the Atlantic Coast where they prepared to attend the Fair. President Roosevelt opened the Fair on 30
April 1939. The Navy was expected to
participate in numerous official activities. However, the Roosevelt
Administration became alarmed at Japanese rampaging in the Western
Pacific. Pacflt was ordered back to the
Pacific. ADML Block who had not been
consulted, was at a dinner party in Washington where the order was delivered to
him.
Only
about three dozen ships remained to attend the Fair on which the full brunt of
participation fell. The augmented
Atlantic Squadron steamed through the Narrows at 5:30 am on 29 April to
assigned moorings completing the operation at 3:00 PM. Leading the parade were old “four piper tin
cans” followed in order by six new CL’s, New York BB24 (Flagship of RADN A.W.
Johnson ’99 Commander Atlantic Squadron) and Texas BB25 (Tennessee BB 43 had
arrived earlier). Astern of the BB were
a division of new DD, carrier Ranger CV 4 and carrier tender LangleyAV3. Finally R and SS class submarines with a
tender and miscellaneous other
types.
The
larger ships moored in the Hudson River, the carriers and smaller ship at
piers. Ships were open for visitors with
an estimate of over 50,000 visitors. On
30 April, the Crown Prince and Princess of Denmark reviewed the Fleet aboard
the Presidential Yacht Potomac AG-25.
Ships
that moored in the narrow Hudson River anchored used the flying moor method to
avoid the wide swing on changing tides.
Moving upstream of the anchorage, the first anchor was dropped while underway
to set it. Then the ship backed down paying out the chain to a point down
stream from the anchorage where the second anchor was dropped and set. In the final step the ship moved up to the
anchorage adjusting the chains. This
tactic provided the tight radius necessary for mooring in narrow tidal waters.
The
City of New York hosted a banquet in a large ballroom. The invitation read: “Officers and their bona
fide wives are invited...”. Officers
were seated at tables on the ballroom floor, the wives on the balcony that
encircled the ballroom. Following dinner
high dignitaries spoke with vigor “pointing with pride and viewing with alarm”
(Will Rogers), I don’t recall any substance to what was said.
In the spring of 1939, Nashville carried American representatives to the Pan American
Defense Conference in Rio de Janeiro, returning them to Annapolis 20 June 1939.
On the 23 June 1939 she sailed from Norfolk for the Pacific via the Panama
Canal, arriving San Pedro, California, 16 July 1939 for two years of
operations. In February 1941, she and three other cruisers carried marines to
Wake Island.
Shipemate
“While operating in the
Hawaiian area in early 1941, we were called alongside USS New Mexico and given
orders to proceed to the East Coast. A division of BBs and Cruisers were
transferred to appease the British and to beef up our Atlantic force.
Nashville, a CVE and a few DDs were placed on the neutrality patrol – from
Norfolk to Azores non-stop and back to Bermuda. We had a four-day layover and
then did the reverse – a thirty day round trip. Once we escorted the Marines to
Iceland to replace the British forces there.”
Shipemate December
2002
Sailing Down To Rio
10 May 1939 Trip to Rio
When General Marshall's appointment as the new Chief of Staff was announced at the end of April, it was decided that Marshall would make the trip.9 He and his party departed New York on 10 May 1939 aboard the USS Nashville and arrived in Rio on the twenty-fifth. Their itinerary for twelve days included visits, dinners, receptions, and discussions with the Brazilians. On 6 June, the Nashville departed for the United States with the Brazilian Chief of Staff General Góes Monteiro and his party aboard. General Góes Monteiro was given an extensive tour of the United States, which must have impressed him, for he never made the visit to Berlin. The process of bringing the Brazilians "into the fold" had begun.
Shipmate September 2001
Sailing Down to Rio. On the last weekend of Nashville’s participation in the New York World’s Fair, I visited friends in New Jersey. I arrived back aboard just in time for morning quarters. I mustered my division. Then with other Division officers and heads of departments reported for the Executive Officer’s daily orders-of-the-day conference. In addition to routine matters it was mentioned that the ship was going to Rio de Janeiro. Back at my division I passed the word to the men, adding that there was talk of going to Rio. The division Boatswain’s Mate said to me, “Mr. Carmichael it’s in the plan of the day—that I had not read. (Dave Nash ’35, one of the junior officers, had just married. At the time he and his bride planned their honeymoon the Rio trip was unknown. His messmates consoled him by sort of a post-marriage bachelor’s party during his six weeks sojourn in limbo.) But I digress.
The spring of 1939 was a very dangerous time. Hitler was gobbling up small nations in central Europe and Japan was violating China andpreparing for the conquest of South East Asia---their Co Prosperity Sphere campaign. Mussolini sent his daughter Edda to Brazil to persuade Dictator Getulio Vargas to join the Axis. Following Edda’s visit the Pan American Defense Council was held. Nashville was selected to carry the American representative, Major General George Marshall (who though nominated for Chief-of-Staff of the Army had not made his number) with a small staff was sent to counter the Axis effort to coerce Brazil. The trip down took thirteen days. At the equator we were underway with no way on long enough to convert all the pollywogs to shellbacks.
On arrival Rio, Nashville moored along side a quay in the center of the city, where we reposed for thirteen days. A shore patrol was formed in two sections to allow each to get liberty. I opted for the first trick to case the joint so I would learn better what to do and purchase when on liberty. The senior patrol officer and I were housed in the top hotel in Rio (Connecting rooms with balconies and board--$3.50 per day. Breakfast in our room ten cents extra.) We were quartered in the Vice Squad’s headquarters—each provided a car and driver. My driver was quite wild, charging about as if he was in a tank. He gave me a Brazilian driver’s Ed course: The first car to enter an intersection had the right of way, a very hazardous policy and vehicular traffic had right of way over pedestrians. I witnessed a car bump a lady who was not seriously hurt and as he drove by shook his fist at her for getting in his way. My driver told me that Brazil had a dictator who acted like a president and the U.S. had a president who acted like a dictator. The shore patrol tour was uneventful except the one night we visited an area where ladies of ‘negotiable virtue’ operated. I am not a prude but I was shocked at the depth of human decadence.
My time on shore patrol may have been educational but liberty was more enjoyable. Brazilians invited officers into their homes. My group was hosted at a very swank 3000 acre orange plantation. There was a pool for swimming and the cocktail was a powerful concoction made from a sugar cane called kuchaci (I don’t know it that is spelled correctly but it was only slightly less lethal than Lucrezia Borgia’s “social” wine used in assisted deaths.) Shopping was pleasant with a very favorable exchange rate.
Next, I was put in charge of supervising 125 enlisted men invited to a country club party hosted by the Rio English Speaking Society. (The young ladies were prettier and more jovial than those at officers’ parties.) The Nashville band came to provide music for the evening. In the beginning the music sounded as though the musicians were using different sheet music. About half way through the evening the band sounded like a real orchestra. I went to investigate the source of this miracle and found two bottles of scotch amidst the bandsmen. (They were placed there by the local Standard Oil executive and president of the Society.) There after the atmosphere of the party was greatly improved. This gesture proved that scotch indeed is the “water of life”. (In Gaelic usiga beathe.)
But dark clouds soon appeared on the horizon. A dowager, one of the sponsors, charged towards me in the words of P.G. Wodehouse, “...like a Spanish Galleon under full sail.” When within range with gun ports open her opening salve was, “This is a terrible party.” When asked what was the trouble, she replied, “We ladies went to a great deal of trouble preparing a fine buffet and the sailors are not eating anything. They are all in the bar drinking.” I told her that would be corrected. Gathering some of the leaders, I gave the following orders: The bar is closed. Go into the food room and consume all the food, then the bar will be reopened. About thirty minutes later the food was gone and I reopened the bar. The Spanish Galleon was happy and the party continued in full spirits. Our sailors’ conduct was a credit to the Navy. Only one old rummy became a bit pixilated and was returned to the ship in the paddy wagon and put to bed.
Finally, General Marshall hosted a dinner party for Brazilian guests on the forecastle of Nashville. Photo 1 shows the layout. Heads of departments dressed for the occasion stood by in the background in case a guest didn’t show to fill any vacant seats. I was in charge of serving after dinner coffee. Drinking my coffee black I forgot to serve sugar. Brazilians are heavy sugar users so the error quickly was remedied. The trip home was uneventful. General Marshall and staff were disembarked at Annapolis.
Everyone was on the best behavior, except one old rummy had to be sent home. Suddenly a very bosomy old gal approached me. She said it was a terrible party. They had prepared a huge table of comestibles with a lovely non-alcoholic punch. But the sailors were collected around the bar. I replied, “That’s terrible!” So I collected the ring leaders and told them that I would close the bar, and for them to get the boys to consume the food, after which I would reopen the bar. Everybody was happy, the sailors had a better base for consuming alcohol. The ladies, I might add, were better looking than the ones supplied for the officer parties and they loved to learn the new dances from the sailors. The band began to sound like Glenn Miller which was due to two bottles of scotch surreptitiously placed in the band by the American head of Standard Oil.
1940 Spring
In
the spring to 1940 the annual Fleet problem was held in the Hawaiian Islands (I
was in Nashville). While thus deployed, President Roosevelt ordered the Fleet
to base at Pearl Harbor – permanently.
CinCUS, ADML Joe Richardson was alarmed.
The Fleet would be dangerously exposed and could not be supported by the
base. After several attempts to get the
decision reversed so annoyed the President that he replaced ADML Richardson
with ADML Husband Kimmel. Nashville,
scheduled for overhaul, returned to the States with the Secretary of the Navy,
Charles Edison, embarked.
While
still in Pearl arbor I wrote my mother living in Washington, D.C., to come out
to Long Beach for a visit. I had no idea
that she would accept. A telegram
arrived asking, “What do I wear?” She informed me that a friend, Mrs. Arthur
Smith, would accompany her. After
Nashville returned for overhaul I rented a two-bedroom apartment ($16 per week)
and a car. On the day the ladies
arrived, when I met them at the station and welcomed them to sunny California,
it was raining. The Smiths were patrons of the Washington’s National Theater
Players and friends of Edward Arnold, one of the actors. Mrs. Smith contacted
Arnold, who invited us to dinner. His
house was impressive, as were the drinks served in standpipe size glasses. Arnold was an epicure of renown. He served a standing rib of beef that was
beautiful to behold and watching him carve was of equal delight. After dinner, I invited him to dinner aboard
Nashville, and he accepted. On the given
day, I met him and the ladies at the boat landing and escorted them
aboard. I had not warned anyone that
Arnold was coming to dinner. He created
some surprise at first but being a congenial person, he melded easily with our
messmates. I should have alerted the
galley, however, for the meal was a disaster; meat load and canned spinach that
Arnold consumed without a grimace.
Afterwards we retired to the fantail for movies. Showing was “My Little
Chickadee” with W. C. Fields and Mae West.
Mr. Arnold’s famous deep laughter could be heard throughout the
harbor. The next day the duty commander
dressed me down with something like, “Carmichael, don’t you ever do that
again.”
20 May 1941
On 20 May 1941she departed Pearl Harbor for the east
coast, arriving Boston 19 June 1941 to escort a convoy carrying marines to
Iceland.
Shipmate
July 2002
“Next we were ordered to proceed to Annapolis
and pick up Major General Marshall, who had been selected as Chief of Staff but
had not made his number, to a visit to Brazil to counter a recent visit of Eda
Mussolini. It was a contest for the loyalty of Brazil. We stayed two weeks,
tied up at a quay in the middle of Rio de Janiero. I was put in charge of 125
enlisted men to attend a party given by the English-speaking society. We took
the ship’s band, which seldom ended up with the music with which they started.”
7 December 1941
From August to December 1941 Nashville was based in Bermuda for neutrality patrols in the
Central Atlantic.
Shipmate December 2002
7 December 1941
Carmichael
was in a task unit patrolling Roosevelt’s neutrality zone between Norfolk and
the Azores. On the westward leg we
stopped off Bermuda. Several of us were in Nashville’s wardroom
playing poker when we got the word that the Japs had bombed Pearl Harbor.
“On 7th December,
we were in Bermuda, and I was playing poker with a few friends. The word came
over the radio that Pearl Harbor had been attacked. We were excited and
concerned for we had many friends at Pearl. We expected to return to the West
Coast but instead we were ordered to Portland ME to pick up a convoy to
Iceland. Together with the old USS Texas, all 12” gun BB were sent along to
protect the convoy from Bismarck, totally unacceptable odds.”
With the bombing of Pearl Harbor, Nashville sailed to Casco Bay, Maine,
where she picked up a troop and cargo convoy to escort to Iceland. She
continued escort duty to Bermuda and Iceland until February 1942.
On return from Iceland I was
ordered to commission Cleveland, a modernized Nashville type, again in the
Camden/Philadelphia area.
Shipmate October 2006
From the USS Nashville official web site
http://www.history.navy.mil/danfs/n2/nashville-ii.htm
The following is a history of the ship while Capt. Carmichael (Lt. Carmichael)
The second Nashville (CL–43) was laid down 24
January 1935 by New York Shipbuilding Corp., Camden, N.J.; launched 2 October
1937; sponsored by Misses Ann and Mildred Stahlman; and commissioned 6 June
1938, Capt. William W. Wilson in command.
Nashville departed Philadelphia 19 July 1938 for
shakedown in the Caribbean. In early August, she sailed for Northern Europe on
a good will visit, arriving at Cherbourg, France, 24 August 1938. Getting
underway 21 September from Portland, England, with 25 million dollars in
British gold bullion aboard, Nashville arrived at Brooklyn Navy Yard 30
September, offloaded the gold, and returned to Philadelphia 5 October.
In the spring of 1939, Nashville carried American
representatives to the Pan American Defense Conference in Rio de Janiero,
returning them to Annapolis 20 June 1939. On the 23rd she sailed from Norfolk
for the Pacific via the Panama Canal, arriving San Pedro, California, 16 July
for two years of operations. In February 1941, she and three other cruisers
carried marines to Wake Island. On 20 May she departed Pearl Harbor for the
east coast, arriving Boston 19 June to escort a convoy carrying marines to
Iceland.
From August to December 1941 Nashville was based at
Bermuda for neutrality patrols in the Central Atlantic. With the bombing of
Pearl Harbor, Nashville sailed to Casco Bay, Maine, where she picked up
a troop and cargo convoy to escort to Iceland. She continued escort duty to
Bermuda and Iceland until February 1942.
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