July 1941: Day Trips

Summers in Hawaii were hot, but so were the springs, falls, and winters. If anything set the season apart, it was the Chew crew’s determination to enjoy it. Elmer’s letters that July described the many kinds of recreation available on – and via – the ship, even as the boat continued to drill for a possible war. “All kinds of athletic equipment” were available to the crew, he wrote on the 9th, including “punching bags, boxing gloves, [and] hand balls.” The sailors even liked to skeet shoot off the Chew’s deck. In the evening, the officers played a phonograph for the crew “with all the popular songs” and showed movies on the deck. “[The officers] do all they can to make us happy and break the daily routine,” he wrote. “They are really swell.” If the Chew had a Captain Queeg, he must not have ever set foot in the engine room.

The officers also organized a recreational cruise to Hilo, a town located on the east coast of the Big Island. The trip included three days of liberty on the island, as well as two separate excursions to Hawaii National Park. “It was a swell cruise,” he reported to his folks. “[Hilo] was a nice town (people liked the sailors a lot – we practically had the whole town to ourselves as there were only two other ships there), whereas Honolulu is overflowing with gobs.*” The sailors were ferried around the island in station wagons, with eight men per car. Despite the cramped quarters, the payoff was grand: “We arrived at the park and saw all volcano craters, flows, and lava tubes. Sure was interesting.” Of course, no Elmer sightseeing report would be complete without an update on lunch: “ham and egg sandwiches, fruit and cake.” Once back in Hilo, Elmer and his friends knocked back a few beers and went to the movies. “Saw Jack Holt in The Great Swindle,” he announced.

Memorandum to all hands announcing the Chew’s cruise to Hilo.

The movies had become one of his favorite destinations in Honolulu. On July 2nd, he watched It All Came True, starring Humphrey Bogart, which he thought was “a pretty good show.” Two days later, they saw another one. But Elmer never mentioned the name of the flick, for once it let out something more exciting awaited him and his group of friends: the SS Lurline. The widely renowned passenger ship was docked at Honolulu for the afternoon, and it disgorged its many passengers onto the busy city streets. Elmer and his friends were allowed to board and check out the boat for themselves. “Sure was fun,” he recalled. “All the people were happy and wore flower leis around their necks.” When the ship departed, a large crowd gathered at the dock to wave goodbye, “just like in the movies.” But while sometimes life imitates art, there is no substitution in life for art. Elmer and his group spent the night at the Y in town, and then saw two more movies the next day. “We’re regular ‘show-bugs.’ Ha ha.”

The SS Lurline ferried passengers across the Pacific for decades, and was widely renown for its splendor and comfort. During the war, however, it traded its deep pocketed clientele for another kind of VIP passenger: U.S. troops.

Elmer’s descriptions of his many adventures that month jazzed up what had otherwise become a somewhat routine correspondence. His parents continued to emote their concerns about his service to him in their letters, and he responded by stating that it would “make [him] very unhappy” for him to learn they were worried. They also continued to send gifts back and forth – Elmer sent something to his mom for her birthday, and she in turn sent him a package containing “1 lb of tobacco, 2 boxes cigars, candy, soap, tooth powder, and shave lotion.” Perhaps one new dynamic emerged this month: Elmer and his family expressing their true feelings about his girlfriend, Pat. Apparently Bud and Elsie did so in one of their letters, prompting Elmer to reassure his mother that he was not offended. “I believe I said the same things about her myself,” he wrote, casting doubt on the future of their relationship.

In any case, his letters had grown slightly less frequent in light of the Chew’s constant sea duty. “Yes sir, this is a sea going son of a gun,” he wrote with pride. But the week-on, week-off neutrality zone rotations were phased out in favor of a more staggered schedule. Sometimes they would head out for a week, and at other times they would only head out for the day in order to practice torpedo runs in the waters surrounding the harbor entrance.

However, the day trips out to sea for shooting fake subs and clay pigeons would soon be put on hold. “[The Chew] is supposed to go in the Navy Yard for two months,” he reported. “Our ship is to be overhauled completely . . . we’ll probably get tired of it after so much sea duty, but a change won’t be bad to take. You won’t have to worry about me being at sea then.” While August could make no promises about milder weather, it certainly did seem to mark the end of the summer.

* “Gob” is slang for a sailor

Things to “Chew” on: Daily ice cream and the process of becoming a “salty sailor”

By early March 1941, Elmer was beginning to get acclimated to his new surroundings: the Chew, Pearl Harbor, the Neutrality Zone, Honolulu, and Waikiki Beach. “I feel fine,” he wrote in a letter to his brother Bud and his family, “[and I] really have a swell sun tan.”

Although still on mess duty, Grandpa did not mind starting his Naval career in the Chew’s kitchen. “I am glad I got mess cook first,” he reported to his parents. “It will be over soon[,] then I can dive right in and learn all about running this destroyer. The other fellows will all have to take their mess cook duty in turn. Every man in the Navy has [to do it.]” Mess duty had its advantages as well. “The ‘chow’ is plenty good, too. You can eat as much as you want. Ice cream every day,” he wrote on January 25th. It was also financially lucrative, with mess cooks earning an extra $5 a month in pay plus whatever was in the mess tip jar. Elmer sent his extra earnings home each month. On March 1st, he informed his parents that he was sending them $20, but that they should not worry about him keeping enough for himself. Between that and the $6 he had won in a card game the past week, Elmer was flush with walking around money (“I am a careful gambler,” he wrote reassuringly).

Outside of the mess kitchen, Elmer was also getting to know the wider world on and beyond the base. On March 1st Elmer described the overall organization of the 80th Destroyer Division, which was made up of the Chew, the Schely, the Allen, and the Ward. The four ships shared patrol duties through the Hawai’ian neutrality zone, which included searching for hostile ships and submarines, performing battle drills, and ensuring the safety of Pearl Harbor and its many inhabitants. He told his parents that they would soon embark on a ten day patrol cruise and that they shouldn’t expect any letters during that time. With all of the patrolling, “[I am] getting to be a salty sailor.”

Despite the cruises, Elmer was also getting to know and enjoy Oahu. In Honolulu he frequented the YMCA and enjoyed going to the movies, while at Waikiki he and his pals “really had a swell time. Swimming and surf boat riding. Boy is that the life! We all had a good time.” Although the beach was a ways away from town, he had no problems hitchhiking. “It is easy to catch a ride. A sailor in uniform gets a ride very easy.”

In any case, Elmer’s mess duty was scheduled to end on April 1st, and a brand new set of experiences would begin. He would then have a little over eight months to learn as much as he could about “running this destroyer” before he, his shipmates, and the rest of the country found themselves smack dab in the middle of a war.

“The Roughest Ships in the Navy”

One thing I always wondered about . . . how frequently do newly enlisted seamen in the Navy get seasickness? Is it common, or infrequent enough for those who do to get razzed about it?

Elmer’s letter of January 30, 1941 answered that question. His ship arrived in Pearl a day earlier after patrolling the neutral zone, and the crew soon discovered that “the old ‘Chew’ didn’t ride as smoothly as the big old Lexington. In fact, destroyers are the roughest ships in the navy.” Grandpa did not sugarcoat the experience. “Of course, little Elmer was [not] feeling up to par at first,” he recalled, “but he stuck it out and by Tuesday night [he] was feeling fine.” He estimated that three fourths of the crew was seasick. “So I had company.” Elmer also predicted that they would all “get used to it in a few trips.”

The Chew was not only out to sea in order to patrol the surrounding waters and shakedown its new crew. “We had many battle drills, fire drills, gunnery practice and everything in general,” wrote Elmer. The ship was slowly beginning its preparation for the coming war, which included moving and operating in the dark. “The lights all went out at 6:30 every night, and I would sit on the top deck and look at the stars and sky. It was so soothing and comforting. It is really a wonderful feeling. The old salty sea air smell.”

Elmer also related his first impressions of Honolulu. “Pretty nice town,” he thought, “but very Oriental. Most of the people are Chinese and Japanese.” Admittedly, his experience with “Oriental” towns and neighbors was limited, and his perception was of course shaped by having spent most of his life in the mostly French and German-influenced city of Saint Louis. But Honolulu was already well on its way to becoming a cosmopolitan metropolis and an important cultural and economic nexus between America, Asia, and Oceania. Native Hawai’ian culture was palpable as well, and his friends and family had already began expressing their curiosity about it. Pat wrote him asking for a grass skirt – “she’s a good kid and deserves it.”

The letter closed with Elmer assuring his mother that he “will always make you proud to have me for a son,” and telling his father to not worry about him “pulling AWOL – I know better than that.” Although I have not located the letter which prompted this curious defense, it is hard to imagine Elmer deciding to leave his post. Temperamentally, as well as officially, he was committed to serving in the Navy.

Besides, between his duties aboard the Chew and his adventures on the Island of Oahu . . . where could he even go? It is a good thing that seasickness is a temporary condition, because Elmer wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.