It has become the most ignored national
day, memorializing the country's most forgotten historical event and
honoring the most ignored element of its military structure, the U.S.
merchant marine.
Congress adopted the resolution creating
the day on May 20, 1933, taking note of May 22, 1819, the day the
steamer Savannah sailed from its home port on the first successful
transoceanic voyage by steamship. President Franklin Roosevelt issued
the proclamation. Every
succeeding president proclaimed it, and every succeeding generation
ignored it.
It was easy to remember winning World
War II but easy to forget the merchant marine, the logistical miracle
that enabled the victory. The
merchant marine story is all about lessons learned on the cruel seas,
of scandalous political treatment of its sailors after the war, of
long-fought battles for recognition as veterans, and of a commitment as
deep, and a risk at least as high, as any soldier's on any battlefield.
But the merchant marine was invisible.
It had scant public-relations apparatus
and no mass grass-roots support. The 13 million men and women of the
Army, Navy, Marines and Coast Guard had professional cheerleaders in
Washington and war correspondents embedded with them in the field,
along with 20-odd-million voting parents. The 250,000 merchant mariners--1.9
percent as many--had only their parents. Lacking practical ships
In the beginning, it didn't even have
practical ships. The U.S.
Maritime Commission's C2 design of 1938-39 was 459 feet long, 63 feet
abeam, 25 feet of draft, 6,000 to 8,000 tons, turbo-electric and
steamed along at a maximum 15.5 knots.
They took time to build and, when war arrived, the luxury of time did not exist.
Only 173 were launched in six years
through 1945, an average of fewer than 30 a year. It quickly became
evident when the U-boat blitz began that that many ships could be sunk
in a matter of weeks. Moreover, engine room crews had to be trained to
operate the C2's sophisticated machinery, a sharp departure from the
oil-fired reciprocal steam engines of the era.
The solution was to adopt the design of
a virtual relic, an old British tramp steamer of the Sunderland class,
being built in American shipyards for the king's merchant marine navy. Simple to build, reliable, capacious,
but slow. They called it the Liberty ship. Those who love it believe it
won the war. Liberty ships
were slow: 10 knots, maybe 11 with a following sea and following wind.
But their old-fashioned engines were easy to run and maintain.
Liberty hulls, built in sections and welded together, could be turned out with astonishing speed: 70 days was an average, but the record was two days. We joked that they were built by the mile and chopped off by the yard.
Shipyards on all three coasts cranked
them out--2,751 from September 1940 through the end of the war, the
greatest number of oceangoing vessels built to a single design in all
history. The basic design was flexible enough so
that the hull could become a tanker, a troop ship, a hospital ship, a
break-bulk freighter--even a seagoing machine shop rigged to repair
damaged airplanes.
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SS Jeramiah O'Brien |
| USS GAGE APA-168 |
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As Roosevelt's "Bridge of Ships" sending
aid from the New World to the Old began to slide down the ways, vessels
of the growing merchant marine fleet were rushed into convoys carrying
lend-lease war cargoes to embattled Britain. These included ships of
many nations, including American-owned ships under foreign flags,
especially Panamanian.
German subs zeroed in on the bridge,
picking off Panama-registered U.S.-owned ships headed for Britain. In
the spring of 1941, a U-boat in the south Atlantic stopped a U.S.-flag
freighter, the Robin Moor. One item of its cargo, railroad rails on
deck, was deemed contraband, and the ship was sunk with gunfire. The
crew and passengers had 20 minutes to abandon ship. This stiffened the spines of
foot-draggers in Congress and slightly accelerated the pace of bona
fide American preparations for war.
Immediately after the Pearl Harbor
attack, German Adm. Karl Doenitz, commander of the submarine force,
sent six U-boats to the Atlantic off the American coast, launching a
campaign of terror on U.S. shipping that, in Winston Churchill's words,
"almost brought us to the disaster of an indefinite prolongation of the
war." Before Pearl Harbor, Congress, chary of violating neutrality
laws, had been reluctant to arm merchant marine ships, but now the die
had been cast.
The navy began arming ships and training
gun crews at its capacity of 100 crews a month. Merchant marine officer
cadets and seaman trainees were already receiving such training, and
all hands performed well and in general effectively. Early on, though, the arming was
sporadic. The toll exacted
by German subs and bombers underscored the urgency of the need to build
ships faster than they were being sunk, however, and with the new
vessels properly armed, the tide began to turn.
Proper arming involved installing gun
tubs for naval cannon fore and aft and pairs of them for 20 mm
anti-aircraft machine guns, the middle pair on the bridge wings. All
the guns had steel splinter shields.
Everyone a target
But every man aboard a seagoing merchant
marine ship in World War II was a target, gunner or not. No one was
immune from the consequences of a hit, for a well-placed torpedo or
aerial bomb sent the ship to the bottom, often wrecking some or all of
the lifeboats. After a few early tragedies when there was no time to
swing boats out on their davits for lowering, the navy ordered all
merchant marine ships to sail with boats swung out, ready for instant
launching. (Life rafts were positioned to be slid over the side and
boarded once in the water.)
But an angry sea was a lethal enemy, boats or not.
Hundreds and hundreds of men were forced
by fire to leap into the sea in life jackets when lifeboats were
wrecked in launching or walled off by fire. A bomb- or torpedo-ruptured
fuel tank could turn a ship into a flaming pyre.
Sometimes with freighters and often with
tankers, a torpedo or bomb could set ship and sea afire. Oil gushing
from ruptured tanks could blaze for hours. Expert swimmers, unwounded,
could dive through flames, swim underwater long enough to clear the
burning fuel, and hope to find a raft or scrap or maybe lifeboat. If
not, drowning or sharks awaited.
The odds were not good.
A ruptured tanker loaded with fuel oil
was bad news for the swimmer even without fire. In a cold ocean, oil
congeals into a thick pad that quickly exhausts any swimmer. The foam
is thick enough to make surface swimming impossible but not thick
enough to keep a man afloat. Catch-22 for the seafarer. But beyond that, whatever the strength
of the swimmer, without protective clothing he can live in the ocean
only until hypothermia claims him, and in the North Atlantic that span
is measured in minutes.
Not all the deaths lurking in wait for
the wartime seafarer were slow and tortured, though. A few hundred of
those killed (estimates vary from 6,847 to 8,412) died quickly--the
fate of anyone torpedoed or bombed on an ammunition ship or a tanker
loaded with high-octane gasoline was instant obliteration.
Sailors in convoys where such cataclysms
occurred were unanimous: The explosion was horrendous. There was a
rising cloud of dust or vapor. Nothing fell to earth. The ship and its
people disappeared, vaporized.
These were facts of life for the
merchant marine seamen in World War II, all of them volunteers (the
minimum age was only 16). These men suffered the highest mortality rate
of any service, in that war, with the possible exception of the U.S.
Marine Corps, dwarfing those of the Army, Navy, Army Air Force and
Coast Guard. This explains why the canard that mariners hated most was
that they were draft dodgers.
Almost simultaneously, a Seamen's Bill of Rights was proposed, strongly endorsed by President Roosevelt and influential members of Congress. But it was rigidly opposed by other members, swayed by the leaders of the American Legion and the Veterans of Foreign Wars, who had been persuaded by a series of lies and misunderstanding about the merchant marine.
These were circulated most effectively by columnists Westbrook Pegler and Walter Winchell who spread the notion that many merchant seamen and their unions were communists or "pinkos." They told tales of seamen refusing to help unload war cargoes, of sky-high bonuses for sailing into war zones.
The barrage of falsehood and disinformation poisoned enough votes in Congress to kill the Seamen's Bill of Rights despite Roosevelt's and later President Harry Truman's efforts to resurrect it. Military heroes--Douglas MacArthur, Jonathan Wainwright, Dwight Eisenhower, Chester Nimitz, Alexander Vandegrift and many others--praised the valor and gallantry and selfless service of the merchant marine--but all too little and too late.
Until, that is, three merchant mariners who had been shipmates and fellow POWs in the Japanese prison camp on the notorious River Kwai took the government to court.
Taking on the government
The Defense Department had assigned the secretary of the Air Force to oversee veterans' group applications for recognition. He had repeatedly rejected the application of Edward Fitzgerald, Dennis Roland and Stanley Willner, though in their judgment they met all the stated qualifications.
When the case came to trial in federal court in Washington in 1987, Roland had died and been replaced by Lane Kirkland, a merchant marine veteran and head of the AFL-CIO's maritime department.
The court found--in pungent terms--for the plaintiffs, and ordered further actions leading to legislation recognizing men with oceangoing merchant marine service in World War II as veterans. The American Legion let them in; the Veterans of Foreign Wars did not.
This led to a cascade of rulings and regulations that among other things recognized merchant marine veterans organizations, granted the old mariners--43 years after the war--access to veterans' hospitals and medical care, residence in Veterans Homes, burial in National Cemeteries, and an inexpensive symbol cherished most of all by many: a flag for their coffins and a veteran's marker for their gravesites.
The truly major benefits of the GI Bill, college tuition and Veterans Administration home loan guarantees, had long since bypassed this dwindling cohort of old men. A credible estimate is that of the 250,000, about 60,000 are left.
Even the 16-year-olds of 1945 are in their late 70s now.
The old salts of then, who left retirement and patriotically went back to sea, are long dead.
But let's not ignore them.
- - -
The merchant marine in peacetime and in war
The merchant marine is the fleet of ships that carries imports and exports during peacetime and becomes a naval auxiliary during wartime to deliver troops and war materiel.
During World War II, the fleet was in effect nationalized. The U.S. government controlled the cargo and the destinations, contracted with companies to operate the ships, and put guns and Navy Armed Guards on board. The government trained crews to operate the ships and help man the guns through the U.S. Maritime Service.
In today's merchant marine, fewer companies operate fewer and much larger freighters and tankers than in the first half of the 20th Century. Cruise ships have supplanted ocean liners. The Military Sealift Command handles logistics for all the armed forces on huge modern freighters and tankers crewed by civilian mariners.
Graduates of the U.S. Merchant Marine Academy (deck and engineering officers, men and women) can serve in any military branch or the merchant marine and are in demand on foreign ships.
The major union, Seafarers International Union, operates schools and hiring halls for men and women in unlicensed jobs (non-officers).
New technologies brought a need for new seafaring jobs, such as electronics technicians and electricians in the turbo-electric world.
In war the biggest difference for the merchant marine is that control of the sea is not an issue but cargo inspection is, and eternal vigilance (e.g., USS Cole) is essential.
The biggest surprise is that, for 44
years after the war, merchant marine survivors were not even war
veterans, though their armed guard shipmates were vets by definition.
As it began to appear that the Allies would win, the GI Bill of Rights
was drafted in Congress, discussed and debated, then passed and signed
into law.
Almost simultaneously, a Seamen's Bill of Rights was proposed, strongly endorsed by President Roosevelt and influential members of Congress. But it was rigidly opposed by other members, swayed by the leaders of the American Legion and the Veterans of Foreign Wars, who had been persuaded by a series of lies and misunderstanding about the merchant marine.
These were circulated most effectively by columnists Westbrook Pegler and Walter Winchell who spread the notion that many merchant seamen and their unions were communists or "pinkos." They told tales of seamen refusing to help unload war cargoes, of sky-high bonuses for sailing into war zones.
The barrage of falsehood and disinformation poisoned enough votes in Congress to kill the Seamen's Bill of Rights despite Roosevelt's and later President Harry Truman's efforts to resurrect it. Military heroes--Douglas MacArthur, Jonathan Wainwright, Dwight Eisenhower, Chester Nimitz, Alexander Vandegrift and many others--praised the valor and gallantry and selfless service of the merchant marine--but all too little and too late.
Until, that is, three merchant mariners who had been shipmates and fellow POWs in the Japanese prison camp on the notorious River Kwai took the government to court.
Taking on the government
The Defense Department had assigned the secretary of the Air Force to oversee veterans' group applications for recognition. He had repeatedly rejected the application of Edward Fitzgerald, Dennis Roland and Stanley Willner, though in their judgment they met all the stated qualifications.
When the case came to trial in federal court in Washington in 1987, Roland had died and been replaced by Lane Kirkland, a merchant marine veteran and head of the AFL-CIO's maritime department.
The court found--in pungent terms--for the plaintiffs, and ordered further actions leading to legislation recognizing men with oceangoing merchant marine service in World War II as veterans. The American Legion let them in; the Veterans of Foreign Wars did not.
This led to a cascade of rulings and regulations that among other things recognized merchant marine veterans organizations, granted the old mariners--43 years after the war--access to veterans' hospitals and medical care, residence in Veterans Homes, burial in National Cemeteries, and an inexpensive symbol cherished most of all by many: a flag for their coffins and a veteran's marker for their gravesites.
The truly major benefits of the GI Bill, college tuition and Veterans Administration home loan guarantees, had long since bypassed this dwindling cohort of old men. A credible estimate is that of the 250,000, about 60,000 are left.
Even the 16-year-olds of 1945 are in their late 70s now.
The old salts of then, who left retirement and patriotically went back to sea, are long dead.
But let's not ignore them.
- - -
The merchant marine in peacetime and in war
The merchant marine is the fleet of ships that carries imports and exports during peacetime and becomes a naval auxiliary during wartime to deliver troops and war materiel.
During World War II, the fleet was in effect nationalized. The U.S. government controlled the cargo and the destinations, contracted with companies to operate the ships, and put guns and Navy Armed Guards on board. The government trained crews to operate the ships and help man the guns through the U.S. Maritime Service.
In today's merchant marine, fewer companies operate fewer and much larger freighters and tankers than in the first half of the 20th Century. Cruise ships have supplanted ocean liners. The Military Sealift Command handles logistics for all the armed forces on huge modern freighters and tankers crewed by civilian mariners.
Graduates of the U.S. Merchant Marine Academy (deck and engineering officers, men and women) can serve in any military branch or the merchant marine and are in demand on foreign ships.
The major union, Seafarers International Union, operates schools and hiring halls for men and women in unlicensed jobs (non-officers).
New technologies brought a need for new seafaring jobs, such as electronics technicians and electricians in the turbo-electric world.
In war the biggest difference for the merchant marine is that control of the sea is not an issue but cargo inspection is, and eternal vigilance (e.g., USS Cole) is essential.