“Unraveling the Fate of Three POWs”
Editor’s note: The most gratifying In Contact letters we receive are written by veterans or their family members who have read an article in Naval History that sparked a recollection from long ago. We received two especially memorable ones recently from people who had read Chinese historian and researcher Yang Jing’s article in the February 2007 issue (pp. 32-37).
Yang’s story concerned the escape attempt by Sergeant Joseph Chastain, USMC; Corporal Victor Paliotti, USMC; and Seaman First Class Ferdinand Meringolo, USN, from the Japanese POW camp at Mukden, Manchuria. While making their way north toward the Soviet Union, the three Americans were recaptured and later executed by the Japanese. One letter we received was from the sister of one of the escapees; the other was from a fellow Mukden POW.
Catherine Quoma
◆ My brother, Ferdinand (Fred) Meringolo was only 22 years old when he was executed by the Japanese. I will never forget the day my family received that heart-wrenching telegram that distorted our reality forever. Ever since I found out about my brother’s unjust execution, I had a calling. I didn’t want my brother’s memory to be buried in a box like his body; I had to keep him alive. Throughout the years, I have been searching for ways to make my brother’s story known—from calling newspaper editors to collaborating with the World War II Mukden POW Memorial Museum.
I was so elated when I found out that my brother’s story was retold in Naval History. I think the article movingly honored the memories of my brother and the two Marines who died. Even though emotionally if was difficult to read about the hardships they suffered, Yang Jing wrote so eloquently and told the story so comprehensively that I was touched that my brother’s memory was so gracefully honored.
Ken Towery
◆ I want to thank you very much for running the Mukden POW article. I was in that camp during the time of the attempted escape, having gone down with the surrender of Corregidor. I saw all three men before they were shot and saw the spot where they were executed. I thought I was thoroughly familiar with the entire episode, but realized just how much I didn’t know when I read Yang Jing’s article. He is to be commended for the work he has done, and you for running it. As a survivor of that camp, I want to thank all of you. In camp my number was 858.
“The Valparaiso Incident Reassessed”
(See P. MacDougall, pp. 50-57, April 2007 Naval History)
Commander Tyrone G. Martin, U.S. Navy (Retired)
◆ How refreshing to read an article by a British naval historian willing to break free of the dead hand of William James!
For some years now, his American counterparts similarly have been moving away from the admittedly yellow journalism of much of the early efforts in naval history.
At a naval history symposium at Annapolis in 1993, a trio of Yank authors under the theme of “Caveat Historicus” (“Historian Beware”) compared the victory reports from five U.S. skippers in the War of 1812 with all the materials to be found recorded by participants on both sides of their respective fights. The five were Isaac Hull, Stephen Decatur, William Bainbridge, Johnston Blakely, and Charles Stewart. Only the last was found to have reported factually, i.e., in essential agreement with his foes. Isaac Hull was found to be at the other end of the truth. His imprecise brief report was such as to cause his readers to believe his victory over HMS Guerrière had required but 30 minutes (it took 2½ hours).
It also said nothing about the two collisions that occurred, and he went so far as to reverse the ships’ positions in a painting he commissioned.
I hope Dr. MacDougall’s article is the first of many reassessments from his colleagues.
“Odyssey of Ericsson’s Ironclad” and “Voyage to Destiny”
(See C. Symonds, pp. 14-25, and S. D. Greene, pp. 26-32, April 2007 Naval History)
William F. B. Vodrey
◆ I was very pleased with this issue that focused on the celebrated and innovative Civil War ironclad USS Monitor.
The members of the Cleveland Civil War Roundtable believe that it would be fitting for one of the new attack submarines of the Virginia (SSN-774)-class to be named the USS Monitor.
We are mounting a national grassroots campaign to persuade the Navy to do so and are pleased to count Professor Symonds among our many supporters. The Committee to Honor the Monitor’s Web site is at: www.clevelandcivilwarroundtable.com/honor_the_monitor.htm.
“Pray for a Miracle”
(See E. H. Taylor, pp. 58-62, April 2007 Naval History)
Captain Akihiko Yoshida, Japan Maritime Self Defense Force (Retired)
◆ I would like to comment about the Japanese destroyers’ action fought against the USS Cooper (DD-695) and two other Allen M. Sumner (DD-692)-class destroyers.
As the author noted, in December 1944 the Imperial Japanese Army intended to reinforce troops at Leyte. The Imperial Japanese Navy, despite suffering serious damage at the Battle of the Philippine Sea and Leyte Gulf, provided troop-convoy escorts to Ormoc Bay in western Leyte.
At midnight, 2 December, a small troop convoy arrived at the bay escorted by two small, shabby, wartime-built destroyers, the Kuwa (Mulberry Tree) and Take (Bamboo).
Destroyers of this type, named after trees or flowers, were built under the rapid reinforcement program of 1944 and they typically were of low performance. They had a maximum speed of only 27 knots, had a 1,200-ton displacement, and carried three 5-inch/40-caliber dual-purpose guns, one quadruple Type 93 Long Lance torpedo mount, and 25-mm antiaircraft weapons. These could never be a match for the latest gold-plated Allen M. Sumners, but they fought furiously against their stronger enemies.
As the convoy began unloading, at about 0030 on 3 December, a hawk-eyed lookout in the Take sighted the Americans. A perilous fight began.
The Kuwa was immediately hit and sunk by the concentrated fire of the Sumner and Cooper. Luckily, the Take was not hit by fire from the Moale (DD-693). Lieutenant Commander Tsuyoshi Unagi, the ship’s brilliant young commanding officer, charged the enemy. Although his ship missed its first torpedo launching opportunity, the indefatigable Unagi and his men circled to attack again. The Take then launched four Long Lances. Torpedo officer Lieutenant Hiroshi Shiga (later a captain in the Japan Maritime Self Defense Force) saw a huge column of water climb a destroyer’s broadside and recognized it as a torpedo hit. No Japanese saw the ship sink. At that moment, the Take was hit by one shell in the forward engine room, which flooded it. After the action, the Take resumed her duties to safely escort the now-empty transport ships to Manila on just one shaft.
I was Shiga’s operations officer when he later commanded a destroyer. His only recollection of the battle at Ormoc Bay was the sadness he felt at hearing voices from the dark sea calling out “Take!”—the voices of survivors of the Kuwa.
“Naval History News”
(See “U-boat Still a Threat,” p. 8, April 2007 Naval History)
Captain Thomas J. Moody, U.S. Navy (Retired)
◆ Lieutenant James S. Launders, commanding officer of HMS Venturer mentioned in the article, was subsequently commanding officer of HMS Alcide, another submarine. The Alcide joined an Allied antisubmarine warfare exercise in March 1953, sailing from Londonderry, Northern Ireland. The USS Charles R. Ware (DD-865) was in Londonderry at the time, and in a swap of some officers and crew, I was privileged to ride the Alcide for four days during the exercise.
Then–Lieutenant Commander Launders was an exceptional raconteur, and at one evening meal he related, in some detail, the sinking of the German submarine while both were submerged. It was, and still is, a fascinating tale, one aspect of which is worthy of further mention.
He told of spotting the German periscope, of watchful waiting, and how once the U-boat started up, the British boat slipped in behind to trail her. Much of the trail time was spent in devising a method to sink her. Launders was impressed with German submarine skill and knew that as soon as he launched a torpedo the Germans would be alerted, would quickly understand what was happening, and take immediate evasive action. Eventually he decided not to fire directly at the target, but would instead fire four torpedoes with different spreads, one each right, left, up, and down. He had no sooner launched than the U-boat evasively maneuvered, but right into the path of one of the fish.
(See “Sons Find Missing Father,” pp. 9-10, February 2007 Naval History)
Lieutenant John J. P. Long, U.S. Coast Guard Reserve (Retired)
◆ While the article states that the USS Grunion (SS-216) is the only known sunken vessel in the area, don’t be surprised if a Japanese submarine is also found there.
As executive officer on board the USCGC Aurora (WPC-103), I was confident we had sunk a Japanese submarine, which was in the act of evacuating troops from Kiska in the Aleutians. If this is the case, that sub would lie on the bottom in the same general area where the search for the Grunion is being conducted.
Could the Aurora have sunk the Grunion? This I doubt because the sub could have easily recognized the approach of a U.S. Liberty Ship being protected by a zig-zagging escort. All the Grunion had to do was send the appropriate Morse code three-letter reply by way of sonar, or she could have surfaced and sent the code with a signal lamp.
Later, the Aurora had the honor of escorting our subs from their base at Dutch Harbor to Attu. After topping off, we escorted them on their way to Japanese waters. Then we reversed this process.
(See “Second Time’s the Charm,” pp. 8-9, February 2007 Naval History)
Ken Groom
◆ The article about the move of the USS Intrepid states that the ship is 920-feet long. The Intrepid was built as a short-hull Essex (CV-9)-class carrier that was 872 feet long when launched. The long-hull Essex ships, such as mine, the USS Hancock (CV-19), were 888 feet long when launched.
Editor’s note: According to an official with the Intrepid Sea, Air & Space Museum, the ship’s overall length is 912 feet 15/8 inches. Most sources state the as-launched length for the two versions as 872 feet and 888 feet 5 inches. These sources also note their length between perpendiculars is 820 feet. The 920-feet figure came from a museum press release.
“Sailors of the Battleship Navy”
(See P. Stillwell, pp. 16-25, February 2007 Naval History)
John L. Whitmeyer
◆ It was with great relish that I read this piece, for I served my first seven months of sea duty in one of the old girls, the USS New York (BB-34). In 1943 she was doing convoy duty acting as a guide for the fast 15-knot run to Africa and the Mediterranean. Her 14-inch rifles were considered at the time a good match for whatever the Germans might throw at us.
There were many memorable moments from the cruise, such as losing steering during the midwatch and veering between ships of the convoy, welcoming the sultan of Morocco aboard at Casablanca, grounding because of heavy seas as we left that port, making hot water for showers by putting a bucket of water on a steam pipe, and, of course, liberty in New York City while the ship was in the Bayonne drydock. These are just a few of the memories of a then-young quartermaster fresh out of school. It was still the Old Navy and I for one am still proud to say I was a battleship Sailor.
“Book Review”
(See J. B. Bryant, p. 70, February 2007 Naval History)
Captain Lefteris Lavrakas, U.S. Navy (Retired)
◆ As an old destroyer Sailor who spent many of his years engaged in wartime and peacetime antisubmarine operations, I read Captain Bryant’s review with keen and somewhat analytic interest. It appears that the lessons learned by the British military leadership during this earlier war paid off in World War II.
Rear Admiral Samuel Eliot Morison, in his review of the U-boat operations in the Atlantic, determined that the British Coastal Command flew its planes so effectively during the latter war that the waters extending out to 600 miles from the British Isles were “safe as the Great Lakes.” Unfortunately, the “lessons learned of timeless value” that Captain Bryant highlights, did not make their way across the Atlantic to the United States’ Eastern Sea Frontier during the early phases of World War II. Here, Morison notes, “the lack of defensive measures was devastating; the antisubmarine air patrol, by April 1942, had been built up to only 170 aircraft, mostly of very short range, based between Bangor and Jacksonville.” Consequently, the German Navy pulled off one of the greatest merchant-ship massacres in history. “Some 137 ships totaling approximately 850,000 tons were sent to the bottom by German
U-boats.” It’s obvious that the Abbatiello book does have its lessons not only to be learned, but, historically, to be taught.
Correction
An editing change created the erroneous statement attributing the swastikas on Finnish Brewster Buffalos to Finland’s alliance with Nazi Germany (“Historic Aircraft,” p. 12, April 2007 Naval History). The use of the markings—called hakaristi—predates the Nazis. The emblem was adopted from the coat of arms of the Swedish aristocrat Count Erich von Rosen, and had been painted on the aircraft that he donated to the Finns in 1918 to help found the Finnish Air Force. Finland adopted his markings for their national insignia in his honor. It was purely coincidence that Finnish and Nazi German aircraft carried similar insignia during 1933-1945.