Somewhere In The Pacific

"Somewhere In The Pacific" is as good a name as any for this tale. My father led a very colorful life as a Merchant Marine midshipman during WWII. For those who don't know, it was the task of the Merchant Marines to deliver troops, supplies, equipment and other necessary vitals like food for the Allied Forces during the war, and my father was very proud to do his part for the war effort, though originally he had tried to enlist in the regular services -- like his brother Albert who was honored to go to West Point -- but a bout of color blindness prevented him from joining the Army or Navy, so he sailed off with the Merchant Marines.

And sail he did around the Seven Seas, though mostly he was based in the Pacific. He visited Australia, Guam, the Philippines, New Zealand, the Panama Canal, Hawaii (and that's a story for another tale)... almost every Pacific port of call there was during his tour of duty. It was not the easiest of enlistments for dear Dad, the merchant ships were a very easy target for German U Boats or Japanese aircraft and subs and many were bombed, strafed, torpedoed, and sunk.

Like many who served during the Great Patriotic War, the Big WWII, the memories of his experiences was seared into his mind for easy recollection many years -- even 70 or more -- later. Dad would be in his comfy recliner, with Regis and Kathie Lee blasting away on the TV -- in his eldest years he would be very hard of hearing and so the level of TV volume would approach a 70's era Who concert -- sipping from a big, tall, cool cup of some Crystal Light concoction, Table Talk pie and Boston Herald on his TV tray and would start recalling events from decades earlier.

He was on a re-supply convoy somewhere out in the Pacific, exactly where I'm not quite sure, but if I had to pin down a general location it would be between Hawaii and the Philippines, and he and another midshipman were lowered down in a boat to do some menial task for the day. Jogging my slightly faulty memory, it may have either been to clean the hull or paint parts of it which needed a quick touch-up from the rust which had accumulated during the ship's tour.

So, there was my father and his fellow shipmate going about their simple task, and to show you that you can't take anything for granted, it was that at that moment when they were suspended by the vessel's side that a huge rogue wave hit the ship and tossed both of them out in to the stormy sea.

My father thought he was a goner! I'm not sure that he was that good of a swimmer -- and when you've just been dumped into the ocean rather forcefully, it may not matter if he was the second coming of Michael Phelps -- and the two of them may have been a bit lax in assuring that they were provided with the latest in safety preservers for that era. And this was the Pacific! Sharks and other deadly vipers of the sea on the prowl, the danger of being run over by another vessel, enemy patrols on the loose, things weren't looking all that terrific for the two of them.

But just as Davey Jones's Locker was about to reserve a spot for both of them, the crewmen on the ship noticed them missing and hurriedly went into Men Overboard protocol, and were able to spot them struggling to save afloat in the water, and thankfully were able to fish them out of the turbulent sea.

Saved, but a bit worse for wear was he and I'm sure in my father's mind, when he recollected events  of that day, he relived the nightmarish experience as he retold his story.

Image Credit: http://www.39-45war.com/merchantnavy.html