to travel,
I'm washing the mud from my face.
And I don't give a damn where they send me,
As long as it's some other place.
We live like a hog in a mud hole,
In a 2x4 hut made of tin.
They say it's the rain that makes it muddy,
But it's only the tide coming in.
They can send me out front in the morning,
And the Axis can turn on the heat.
If the only way back is through Peary,
Don't worry, I'll never retreat.
Here's another poem along the same line, author unknown:
You can have our Army khaki, but I'll take my Navy Blue.
There is still another fighter that I'll introduce to you.
His uniform is sure well known, to which you will agree.
The Huns call him a seadog - but he's really a Seabee.
He came to sea with one idea - to work at a trade he knew.
A rating he got to fit the trade, but the training was something new.
He trained down at Camp Peary, the land that God forgot,
Where the mud is 14 inches deep, and the rain just doesn't stop.
Where it's cold as ice one day and mighty warm the next
Where he hears about the Civil War and learns the fight was fixed.
Where he stands in line most everyday from early morn 'til night
Where he learns to march - throw hand grenades and ends full of fight.
He's put on K.P. detail and many dish he's dried
He's also learned to make beds - a broom he sure can guide.
He's peeled a million onions and twice as many spuds.
He also spends his leisure time in washing out his duds.
Now, honey, take this tip from me - I hand it on to you
Just grab yourself a Seabee, for there's nothing he can't do
And when he gets to Heaven - to Saint Peter he will tell
A Seabee, Sir, reporting - I've served my time in Hell.
As a native born Virginian, I didn't agree with everything said in these two poems, but they still tell a pretty good story of Camp Peary.
II. CALIFORNIA BOUND
On 4–5-43 our battalion boarded two trains for the west coast. After a five-day ride in a day coach and hardly enough to eat, we arrived at Port Hueneme, California, 50 miles north of Los Angeles, the naval embarkation point. They used two trains because of fear of sabotage, and, in addition, we were routed differently, as we traveled across the states. At chow time they would stop and connect onto two diner cars (all of which was planned ahead). Being afraid of someone deserting, we were not allowed off of the train for any exercise. We complained so much they, finally, let us off after four days, at Yuma, Arizona. All along we were confined to an assigned car with a guard at each end. Only officers or anyone with a pass was permitted to leave the car.
The following day we were given a fourteen day leave. I purchased a round-trip train ticket back to my home in Virginia to spend a few days there before going overseas, and then again back to California. My parents home was only 250 miles from Camp Peary where we had just left, and almost in sight of the railroad we traveled on. During the last 18 days I had crossed the United States three times from coast to coast by train, in day-coaches. It was surprising how they kept an eye on us going to California and then turned us loose for 14 days.
During the few days in California they gave us lectures on various subjects before going overseas, and issued our "pieces" (M1 Rifles) and other necessary items for a full pack. We went out on the rifle range for target practice a number of times to get the feel of our pieces. This was down my alley. With my score of 120 points out of a possible 125, I qualified for a sharp shooter immediately, but the Seabees did not recognize this accomplishment.
While there we went out of the camp area on a work detail crossing the road into the dock area. About the time we arrived there, I found it necessary to look for a head (rest-room). I asked permission from the Chief in charge to return across the road back into camp, and that was no problem. In starting back across the road I was halted by a marine guard who asked: "Where are you going?" I told him. He said, "You are not going to cross that road, you may start across but I am going to shoot you." I didn't start across, for he meant what he said. I went back to camp and sacked up.
III. ISLAND X HERE WE COME
On 4–30-43, our battalion of approximately 1000, along with several other outfits, the C. B. Battalion, the V.M.B. 312 Unit and the Argus 14 Unit, a total of 3500 troops went aboard a troop transport ship, the MORMACPORT.
That afternoon we pulled anchor and headed for parts unknown. We were cautioned not to fall overboard, because the ship would not stop to pick us up, for fear of enemy submarine.
When I woke up the next morning I had to head for the "rail" along with alot of other men and try to empty my stomach, (even though it was already empty). After that I had no problem of being seasick.
Very few people on the ship knew where we were going, the rest of us had no idea, but from the scuttlebutt that went on, you could pick any island in the Pacific.
After being at sea for a few days someone spotted the Southern Cross just above the horizon. As we continued to watch this each night it would be a little higher in the sky. This told us we were going south as well as west.
It was very hot below deck, particularly in the day time, and a half way decent seat on deck of the ship was always at a premium. One day "Utah" Johnson and I had good ones in the shade, so George Miller walks up in a hurry and said, "Johnson, you are wanted at the OD's Office" (Officer of the Day). Away he went, but he was back shortly and calling Miller names I can't print here. Of course, Miller wanted his seat.
After ten days at sea, as we were about to cross the Equator, the honorable "King Neptune" came aboard. He is King of the ship while there and no one dares cross his path. The majority of us not having crossed the Equator before were known as Polliwogs. As Polliwogs we had to go through the initiation ceremony performed by the more experienced voyagers, known as Shellbacks, that had been through this initiation before. Going through this ordeal we were well aware that you had officially become a Shellback.
On 5–12-43, a Tuesday, we went to bed and surprisingly the next morning when we arose, it was Thursday. Going west we had crossed the International Date Line during the night, which caused us to lose a day.
For the long and lonely two weeks we were traveling at about 22 knotts, and our speed was our only defense against submarines. Sitting on deck at night we could tell by the position of the stars that we were on a zig-zag course, to keep from being tracked by enemy submarines. During this time we saw only two other ships, (friendly). Water, water, water.
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