On leaving Auckland we headed north, past Australia, past the Solomon Island, New Guinea and New Ireland, then continued on to Manus Island. Why Manus is long forgotten other than the Australians had a navy refueling facility there. Guam was the primary destination and still a couple of days away.

Guy Thompson (LTJG 1944-1946) wrote recently, "You had the opportunity to participate in one of the most taxing navigational tasks I encountered in the Navy.  The problem of going from New Zealand to Manus with the least consumption of fuel is NOT one that can be solved by the average QMC or junior officer navigator.  Since Spangler wasn’t flagship she probably only had to follow the instructions of the commodore.  You weren’t sure why you went to Manus, anyway.  Spangler was probably running on empty when you got there.

At nearly 2300 nautical miles north of New Zealand, Manus sits very near the equator and is hotter than heck day and night.   Guy served aboard the Spangler from 1944 to 1946, initially as an Ensign and later as a LTJG.  He retired as a Commander in 1961.  His memoirs of his years aboard the Spangler are available on the website and well worth reading if you haven't already.  It's facinating that the Spangler sailed in many of the same waters and either passed or visited the same islands during the war years.

Writing letters home while at sea was darn near impossible, what with duty details of four hours on and four hours off.   And it was certainly impossible to do much of anything below deck due to the darkened quarters and the need for guys to get their sleep in between duty details.

A small signal shack attached to the back of the Pilot House solved that problem to a limited extent, for writing letters that is!   It was a signalman's private haven, a virtual paradise!  Okay, that's exaggerating a little; but only a wee-bit!  It wasn’t much, as shacks go, just a little 3x4 room, but big enough for a couple of guys to stand in during foul weather or a place to study signal books and occasionally get a letter written home.  It had been was constructed, in all likelyhood, as an after thought to protect against weather during the 1956 and 1957 WESPAC cruises.  The reason for mentioning the shack here is because it had a wall electric socket.

We made some of the best, fried cheese sandwiches late at night one could imagine.  A half stick of sizzling butter for french-frying two slices of bread with cheese in between, heated until the cheese melted and the toast was golden brown -- a pure delight;  Nothing tastier!

Being in the signal gang was good for bartering: we had something the cooks wanted and they had something we wanted -- we wanted coffee, bread, cheese and butter -- they wanted messages sent to friends on other ships.  Staying on the friendly side with those folks made good sense!   Those late night cheese sandwiches and the fact that us signalman had access to the ship's only sewing machine made us good friends with "lots" of folks aboard.  In case you've forgotten or didn't know, the sewing machine was located in a small room off the starboard side of main deck near the bow.

I wonder how many uniforms I tailored aboard the Spangler?  Bell-bottom trousers and tight jerseys weren't regulation but they were the in-thing back then.  So the sewing machine came in handy!   We signalman weren't alone in this, just about everyone aboard ship had something someone else wanted, so someone was always bartering something.

In my letter on February 5th to my girlfriend (my my wife and the lady who has put up with me over all these years), I wrote, "Gee, but it's hot here! I never thought it possible anywhere in the world to get this hot.  But what gets me is there are hotter days to come and we were still a day or two from the equator).  I said Joe Mitchell was at it again, "he wants to go over and get plastered while we're at Manus Island.  And we're going to be there overnight.  Frankly I doubt we will go over and have one beer much less get drunk.  But the thought of a few cool beers does help a little in this heat..."

I added, "The USS Cockrell steaming abreast of us lost steering control early in the afternoon and almost ran into us, causing LTJG Simmons, OOD, to order a hard left rudder.  Damn near caused me to have a heart attack!  Ha!  Yep, if she would have come a few yards closer, I think this old ship's number would have been up."

About 0845 on the February 6th we passed through the straits between the Islands of New Ireland and New Britian (today known as Papua New Guinea). And from there to Manus for our first overnight stop since New Zealand six days earlier.  Interestingly, the Spangler had passed through these same waters on several occassions during the war years n 1944 and 1945.

We arrived at Manus the following morning on the 7th about 9:30 and moored to a dock at the Tarangua Royal Austrailian Navy Base about 0930. The ships tied up in a nest arrangement with the USS Cockrell next to the dock, then the USS George, us and the USS Wilson on the outside.  I don't recall if Joe got his beer or not, but I recall we made up for it when we got to Truk Island a few weeks later.

Stopping there gave most of the crew an opportunity to leave the ship for a while and wonder around in a nearby village.  The islanders weren't just dark complexioned, they were "black!"   When they learned our ship was coming into port they herded all their younger women and children into the hills until we departed.  So the only folks we got to see were the men, some really older women and teenage boys. The sailors at the depot said that's the way it always is, the islanders had a taboo against outsiders seeing their women and children.

Again, for us guys on the Spangler it was another cultural experience. We had read about people living in grass huts and people that once were headhunters, but this was our first time to see their environment.  The teenage boys could shimmy up a coconut tree faster than we could run on flat ground. They liked to do it to show off and we liked the coconuts!

Ron Knight (SN '57) recalls that, "After the big letdown of being at sea again following our stay in Auckland, and being so near the equator, we needed a break big time!  So on arriving at Manus Island the CO let us go ashore for a little R&R.  We had a hell of a time!  Dick Lalicker and I returned to the ship drunk as skunks!  Dick no sooner stepped aboard and he pulled off his jersey and threw it overboard.  And what did I do, I dove overboard after it!  Yeah, in my present state I forgot these were shark infested waters.  BM1 Langschwager rushed to the side, grabbed a throw line, tied a loop in it and threw it at me.  I managed to stuggle into it enough to get it around my chest and under my arms pits and he began to pull me in. The damn roap nearly ripped my arms off and as he was pulling me up the side of the ship I hit my head on something and had to have stiches. But, damn it, I had that jersey!" -- Source: Seatales - Man Overboard.

Equally humorous was Andy Hanson's day at Manus. Andy was a RM3 in our radio gang and says, "I played basketball against the Aussies, they took me out of the game at half time because I had already scored 20 pts.  I met and drank with an Aussie E.M. and we struck up a friendship.   He took me by jeep out to an airfield with hundreds of abandoned fighter planes with the jungle growing up around them.  An incredible sight.  Then we drank more and he deposited me at the landing.  By that time we had swaped uniforms so when I got back to the ship I was written up by the deck officer. Not the first time either." -- Source: Seatales - No Swapping Uniforms.

By early the morning of the 8th we were underway again, this time for Guam and surveillance of the Bonin, Mariannas and Eastern Caroline Islands.  

John B. Orzalli, a Lieutenant aboard the USS Leray Wilson (DE-414), one of the ships in our destroyer escort group on the trip, published his memories on the internet of the WESPAC Cruise in 1957. "It's a fascinating, fun filled publication available on the internet and well worth reading.  You can find it at http://tobi.gmu.edu/tobithenandnow/ifirititi/orzallileraywilsoncruise1957.pdf, or simply by clicking on the address here.  But if you go there, and I hope you do, please be sure to return and continue on here.

John explaines that "the US Navy assigned ships to make patrols in these areas to maintain National interests in the Marianas Islands, the Bonin/Volcano Group, and to provide surveillance and security in support of the Trust Territories Administration in the Caroline Islands. These patrols were scheduled for different Navy vessels, about every 6 months."

The Spangler, as part of it's role in this undertaking, passed on the 9th near Elato and Olimore Atolls (in the Caroline Islands) on the way to Apra Harbor, Guam, arriving there on the 10th.  This was about noon and we moored at Dock #2.

LTJG Elif A. Anderson reported for duty almost immediately on our arrival. And evidently he bought along some special orders with him because we were soon underway again, departing the harbor by 1715 and headed out for "Operation Skyhook" at a location about a 100 miles east of Guam.

Phil Eng, when you talk to him today, remains convinced all of this was part of a top secret NASA project in preparation for putting men on the moon.  And, he may well be right: The February '57 issue of the Spangler Newspaper explained,

The first of the balloons was recovered on the 11th about 1700, sighted our 2nd on the morning of the 12th and made the recovery that afternoon about 1615.  Another on the 13th about the same time.  But for some reason, and I'm not sure why, the Spangler at this point was released from these fun and games.  And we headed back for Guam at a grand speed of 6 knots.  Likely we were in need of a little repair work.  By the following morning we were in port and moored alongside the USS 'Whitehurst (DE) at Lima Dock, Apra Harbor and remained there for several days.

Guam offered our first "real" liberty since New Zealand.  And a lot of us guys were eager to take advantage of it.  Wednesday evening before departing Guam on the 17th was one of those "going ashore" nights.  Joe Mitchell, Dick Lalicker, Ron Knight along with a few other guys found a nice bar with a dance floor just outskirts of town.  It only took a few minutes for the girls to begin sitting on our laps pleading with us to buy them a drink.  Of course the drinks were nothing but colored water, that’s all any of these girls ever drank, it seemed, but we didn't care - they were girls!

The young girl that set by me was somewhat shy.  It must have been her first night to work in the bar and I think she needed me as a friend as much if not more than I needed her.  The more the evening went on the friendlier we became and, of course, the more I drank the more we talked about wanting to leave for awhile.  She became increasingly frustrated as the evening moved on over the fact she wasn't permitted to leave the bar until the end of her shift.  Now I know what you are thinking, yes, she might have been been the best little actress on the island, but it sure didn't seem so.  The girl wanted to go and she definitely didn’t want me going back to the ship, not without leaving for a while with her. 

I’m pretty sure it was all talk on my side, but it made the evening interesting!

Eleven-thirty finally rolled around and someone said, "Hey, guys, it’s time to head back!" Man, I didn’t want to go back to the ship right then, but everyone was leaving so I had no other choice.  You would have thought I was leaving a long time girl friend from the way she looked!

I said, "Don’t worry I’ll come back to see you the next time we’re in port!" She smiled with a big grin and said, in broken English, "I anxious see you next time! Ok! Please!"

On returning to the ship, the Duty Officer asked me how the night went? I said, "It went damn good, but would have been a lot better if I didn’t have to have come back aboard!  I had to leave a really nice gal back there!"

He looked at me, laughed, and said, "Who said you had to come back aboard?"

"I was told we only had mid-night liberty," I responded.

He laughed again and said; "I don’t know who told you that, everyone got over-night liberty tonight."

"Damn, if that’s the case I’m going back ashore," I said as I turned and stepped back on the gangway.

"Oh no you’re not!" he said. "You’ve had enough for one night! Go below and get some sleep!"

Ah! Such was Navy life!!!

Guy Thompson notes with some humor, "I’ll have you know that from late in 1946 to late in 1948 I commanded a ship home ported in Guam – we made liberty in no other port, During that time we did not have one, solitary, single case of clap, crabs, syphilis, or Old Joe, This was not due to abstention and purity on the part of my crew. It was due to the total, maddening, frustrating lack of girls. Our consumption of condoms was zero. In fact, for years the only thing I used a condom for was keeping matches dry in my abandon ship kit.

To be fair to some of the crew that didn't behave as some of us.  At least some of the guys from the Spangler that evening remained behind and played a basketball game with guys off the USS Whitehurst (DE 634 ). "This included Hanson, Smith, Brossia, Kuntz, Lund, and Pulaski, all under the watchful eye of LTJG Simmons.  Unfortunately our team lost 46 to 37.

Anyway, by the 17th were were underway again, departing independently for "Island Survelience" of the Bonin, Eastern Caroline and Marianas Islands .  Of the twenty islands in the Bonin and Caroline Islands group, only ten have any appreciable size.  Some were nothing more than large volcanic mountain outcrops.   Nearly all of the islands, however, were large enough to hide a fishing boat in one embayment or another.  The Spangler's responsibility was to circle each island looking for Japanese fishing boats operating within a restricted 3-mile limit of the islands.  We were told that the Japanese had used fishing boats under guise to gain a foothold on the islands before the war and the U.S. was not about to permit it again.  Japanese presence on the islands remained prohibited following the war until the islands were released from American Administration back to the Japanese in 1968.

A tabulation of all islands and atolls visited or sighted during the island surveillance activities is posted at the bottom of the page here.

Our new assignment was underway full swing by the morning of February 18th.  We passed near Aguyuan Island about 0730, Tinian Island by 0940, Siapan by 1043 and Anathan by 1605. While at Anathan a boat with seven islanders came alongside and remained long enough for the local chief (Chief Biete) and one of his men to come aboard for about fifteen minutes.

What I recall most about the Islands, in addition to their beauty, were the frequent number of large, clear glass balls bobbing around in the ocean.  These were one to two-foot diameter in size!   I suppose they had something to do with fishing.  But what ever their purpose they were a beautiful sight with sunlight glistening off the surface.  I'd loved to have gotten my hands on one, now what I would have done with them I don't know, but the desire was there.

Ocassionally we anchored off an island for the night.  Some of these were inhabited and the islanders would come out to greet us in outriggers and sail boats. They would wave and shout but mostly wanted to show off by diving for coins we would toss into the water.  I seriously doubt a coin touched the bottom.   Several teenagers would dive in and in a second or two surface with a smile and holding up the coin.

By 2100 on the 8th we made radar contact with Gugeran Island, then Alamagan Island and wound up the evening near Pagan Island.  Early the following morning at 0100 we passed abeam of Alamagan Island and then abeam of Pagan Island at 0325.  We reached Agrihan Island about 0700 and began a surveillance moving clockwise around the island 1000 to 2000 yards offshore.   All was proceeding well until the fuel oil service pump in the steaming fire room tripped, bringing the command to stop all engines for a few minutes.  With that soon corrected we continued ahead at 5 knots until the surveillance was completed about 0855.  Finding nothing significant, we cranked up speed to 15 knots and headed to Asuncion Island, our next destination, arriving there about 1245.  Repeating our clockwise circular surveillance of the island and finding nothing of notice we headed on to Maug Island, arriving there about 1455.

Now Maug is where the fun began!  Ok...so bobbing around in a rubber lifeboat wasn't all that fun for the few guys involved, but it had to be exciting! And it certainly left the remainder of us aboard ship in envy.  If it wasn't fun and exciting, it's odd that the guys involved were so reluctant to release their seats during subsequent surveillance efforts over the following weeks.

Maug Island is actually three islets comprising the crater rim of a large volcanic outcropping.  Shallow water depths and rocky outcroppings made it unwise to use the motor launch, so using a rubber life raft equipped with an outboard motor made better sense for moving between the islands to conduct the surveillance.  While the surveillance team was doing it's thing the Spangler continued it's surveillance clockwise around the three islets until the surveillance team returned about two hours later.

Later that evening we picked up radar contact with a fishing boat off Farallon De Pajoros Island, headed in that direction and by 2230 pulled along side and illuminated it with a search light.  And I think we aimed our big 5-inchers at it as well to make certain our message came across.  A visit and search party using the whaleboat was sent over for investigation with instructions for the fishing vessel to follow us at "best possibe speed" to ChiChi Jima.   This was the nearest Naval Authority where we could hand the boat over.  Given the slow speed of the fishing boat it took us at 7 knots nearly a day and a half to arrive there.

ChiChi is the largest of the Bonin Islands and during the war was heavily fortified by the Japanese.  We got a kick out of the name!  In Japanese "chichi" is slang for breast  The older salts on the ship tried to make us younger guys believe young Japanese ladies were sent there to be trained in the Geisha art of satisfying men.   I wrote my girlfriend jokingly saying how pretty Japanese women were on ChiChi Jima Island and that "they had been sent there to be educated in the ways of manners and love."  But I added she needn't worry, "we are only going to stop for about 2-hours."  In a subsequent letter I wrote that someone really put out bum dope about Chi Chi Island, because there was only a small naval base there.  In other words there were no young Japanese Geishi Girls in training."   Mostly what I recall from seeing ChiChi, was not pretty women, but high bluffs areas with massive numbers of tunnel openings used by the Japan for gun emplacements.

By 1500 we were back at sea again, this time headed for surveillance of Nishino Shima. With that done we headed back to Futami ChiChi Harbor for a short visit, then on to the Island of Saipan with the fishing boat MG2-108 in escort.  By 1241 we had spotted another fishing boat (S02-1140), questioned it, released it and proceeded on at 7.5 knots, arriving at Dock "C" Fabauog Harbor, Saipan Ialand by 1520 on February 27th. Custody of the Japanese fishing trawler was handed over to the local U.S. Naval Administration Unit.

We remained in port overnight with the goal of transporting 170 Philippino workers to Guam.  This many folks were nearly double the size of our crew.  When we did get underway we had folks standing and sitting everywhere!

One of my buddies had been bugging me for days prior to arriving in Saipan that we should go ashore on our next stop and get plastered (I'll leave him anonymous for the moment, but he'll know who he is and some of his other buddies will know too. And, of course he will say it was the other way around on who was bugging whom).   Anyway, the ship, after a week of four on and four off duty-details finally pulls into port.  There wasn't much there other than a small Seabee station it seemed.  Those of the crew not on duty were given a few hours ashore.  Likely none of us had much money since we had been at sea so long and not paid recently, so we were a little short on cash and definitely short on time.

We made our way over to the EM Club (little more than a quonset hut), walk up to the bar and, with a quirky grin on our face, commenced in telling the bartender that "we don't have much money; we don't have much time; but we won't to get plastered!"   He said, "I've got just the thing!"  Then he rattled off some weird drink name and began to mix this concoction.  We asked what it was and he said, "It's a double shot of IW Harper sitting in a screwdriver.  Make sure down both at the same time to get the full effect!" We paid him, grinned at each, then swallowed the drinks in one big gulp!

The next thing I know I'm waking up in the after-steering room, with grease from the bolt imprints on the back of my white jersey from the hatch leading to the next lower level. I was sore as heck and had a terrific headache!  And...I was totally confused on where I was or how I got there.  If the hatch was open and I stepped into it, or if I climbed down part way and fell, I'll never know.

I climb the ladder up to the top deck and headed forward to the Operations Division sleeping compartment.  As I reached the stairwell to the bridge area I see my buddy coming down.  The right, topside of his head was wrapped in bandages.  I asked, "What the hell happened to you?"  He said, "I don't know!"  I responded, "What do you mean you don't know!  He came back with "I don't have the slightest idea!"o

We learned later from some of our other buddies that I had passed out in the EM Club and that my friend fell flat of his face in the latrine, slid across the floor and cut his head on an exposed floor bolt holding a toilet in place.  How I managed to make it back to the ship is beyond me.

My buddy, by the way, still has a scar as proof of the evening!

Gene Lund let me know recently that he took on the task that night of getting our friend to the hospital.  He added, that given how drunk he was himself, making it to the hospital was no easy task, but he got the job done and made sure they both got back to the ship.

By March 1st we were back in Guam tied up Lima War, Naval Repair Facility, U.S. Navy Station and remained there until the 7th when we headed out to East Fayu Island for continuation with surveillance activities.  After the fiasco at the EM Club on Saipan, going ashore in Guam was not high on our desire list.  And that was definitely true of my buddy with a bandage over part of his fore head. Nope at this point I didn't have much interest in going ashore and seeing the young lady I had met at a bar on my earlier visit to Guam. It was time to behave and write a few letters home.