
Preservation of American Hellenic History
December 23, 1943, the officers and men of the Greek/USOG boarded the liberty ship Pierre L'Enfant at Newport News, Virginia. Christmas Day, 1943, the USS Pierre L'Enfant departed from Newport News, via Chesapeake Bay, onto the Atlantic Ocean, where it joined a large convoy of ships.
For security reasons, this top-secret unit was assigned to a liberty ship. These ships normally transported supplies. (Another sidelight: the USS Pierre L'Enfant was named after the architect who designed Washington, D.C., the city that was the headquarters of the OSS.) The enlisted men were placed in the ship's no. 3 hold. The hold was not unlike a quad, with bunks, four high, rimming the hold, and tables and benches in the middle of the room where, between meals, the men played cards, checkers, barbouti and craps. We had a portable Victrola (phonograph) and three contemporary records.
Typical of navy ships, steep steps descended into the hold. The latrine was located halfway down the steps and onto a loft on an extended platform above the bunks. The urinal was a trough the length of the platform with seawater continually running through it. There were also three or four toilet bowls on the platform. Pity the OGs whose bunks were located beneath the platform. The five Californians were among the unlucky ones.
The Greek/USOG galley was a small room adjacent to the sleeping and eating quarters. Two meals were served each day. The remaining four holds on the ship carried freight. Large military vehicles such as tanks and trucks were anchored on deck. Unlike most troop ships there was decent space in the hold and substantial space on deck where we exercised and lounged when the weather permitted. At dusk garbage would be thrown overboard so that it would not be discovered by the German U-boats until morning. By then the convoy would be many miles away from the garbage drop.
The Greek/USOG officers were quartered above deck in the ship's officers' quarters.
Many ships in the convoy, including the Pierre L'Enfant, had torpedo nets parallel to the ship on the starboard and port sides. The nets were nearly the length of the ship and extended approximately 25 feet from the bulkhead. Theoretically, the torpedo nets would detonate enemy torpedoes before they struck the ship. The nets slowed the ships to a speed of 8 knots and every convoy moved at the speed of the slowest ship. At this critical period of the war, convoys in the Atlantic were under constant attack by German U-boats. Other than a few alerts, fortunately, neither submarines nor the Luftwaffe attacked our convoy. Although it was winter, the weather in the Atlantic was mild for January and the ocean fairly calm. Numerous U.S. Destroyer Escorts and a small aircraft carrier escorted our convoy to Gibraltar.
Approximately three weeks after embarking from Newport News, we reached the African coast near Dakar. It was around midnight and I was on deck anxious to see Gibraltar; ships were receiving and sending orders by signal lights and moving into new positions. The convoy split into three parts: a few ships were sent to Dakar, Africa, with the majority deployed north to England or through the Strait of Gibraltar, which is where our ship headed. Approximately 75 ships remained in our convoy when we crossed Gibraltar into the Mediterranean Sea. The many ships maneuvering in the dark, appearing as silhouettes, was a spectacular sight.
The convoy was escorted by a few British Corvettes. There was no need for an aircraft carrier in the Mediterranean because we skirted the North African coast, where the Allies had air bases. At this time in the war, the Axis occupied southern France, most of Italy, Greece, and the island of Crete.
Our convoy was not attacked by the Nazis, but we encountered a hurricane type of storm off the Libyan coast in the Gulf of Sirte. The ship was bobbing and weaving in the turbulent storm, and the lifeboats filled with water. The captain of the Pierre L'Enfant decided to cut loose the lifeboats because he worried the weight of the water in the lifeboats might capsize the liberty ship. Fortunately, the heavy vehicles remained anchored on deck.
During the height of the storm I was on guard duty from midnight to 4:00 a.m. on the port side close to the bow. I found it amusing that I was on duty with my rifle, on a ship that was in distress, and I could not see two feet in front of me. I could hear the crew shouting orders and cutting loose the lifeboats.
When I was relieved from guard duty I returned to number 3 hold. I found it in shambles; the tables and benches had collapsed, the latrine trough had flooded, and water, debris, vomit, and feces were on the deck of the hold; the debris was so deep it virtually reached the lower bunks. The top bunks directly underneath the trough were showered with the rubbish. Most of the troops were in their bunks, so I crawled into my lower bunk and waited out the storm. Fortunately there was no damage to the ship.
The Gulf of Sirte, because of its close proximity to the Nazi airfields on Crete, was called Blood Alley.
Years later, First Lieutenant Theodore Russell, the OG liaison to the captain of the Pierre L'Enfant, recalled the captain's words: The horrific storm was a blessing since it prevented the Nazi planes from bombing our convoy.
This was one of many lucky breaks that I encountered throughout my three years of service.
There were other interesting highlights on the trip. A day or two after leaving Gibraltar and continuing our journey in the Mediterranean, a huge silver blue shark was trapped in the torpedo net on the starboard side of the ship, just below the water line. We observed this tremendous creature struggling and fighting to free itself for days, but finally after a week or so it succumbed. When we docked at Port Suez the net was raised, the shark still attached to the net was placed on deck, where we got a good look at this marvelous fish. The shark was at least 15 to 20 feet long.
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