You are here: Troop Movements: Troop Accounts: On Board!
 
On Board! by Frank Lowry A/276
 
USS WEST POINT 
By Frank H Lowry  A/276

On December 6, 1944, the infantrymen of the 275th and the 276th Infantry Regiments, and a contingent of Army Nurses, 7764 passengers in all, went up the gangplanks of the nation's newest and largest luxury liner, the SS America.  The infantrymen carried full field packs, duffle bags, rifles and combat gear.  Much earlier, the U.S. Navy took over the SS America and converted her to a troop transport, painted her slate gray camouflage and renamed her USS West Point.  She was manned by a Navy crew and showed no resemblance to the luxurious liner that she once was. The only armaments were two batteries of antiaircraft guns.  American Red Cross girls were on hand to bid the troops farewell and gave each soldier a cup of coffee, a couple of donuts.

Above: The USS West Point, photo sent by Mac McLain.

Late afternoon, under an overcast sky, the USS West Point was fully loaded and slowly sailed out of Boston Harbor.  At Camp Myles Standish, post regulations required that everyone leaving the garrison for any reason have condoms in his possession.  When a soldier remembered he still had some in his wallet, he inflated them and sent them aloft.  The idea soon caught on, and in just a few moments, hundreds of the balloon-like objects were rising above the wake of the USS West Point. That was the GIs farewell to Boston and it did not surprise anyone when the Ship's officers and the Army officers failed to manifest any humor in the incident.

The first night at sea was cold and rough causing the huge ship to pitch and roll with the swells.  That was the onset of many cases of mal-de-mer that would continue in increasing numbers while the men were at sea.  The next day, the sea was calm and remained that way for the rest of the journey. The GIs expected the West Point to rendezvous with a convoy or pick up a Naval escort, but that did not happen.  The West Point sailed alone out into the Atlantic. 

Very few of the men had experienced life aboard a troop ship.  Many had never been on a ship of any kind and a few had never seen an ocean.  On the top deck, the officers and nurses were comfortably quartered in cabins designed for passengers traveling first class.  Enlisted men were quartered like sardines in all the compartments of the lower decks. They slept on narrow canvas bunks stacked four and five high, and so close together that there was hardly room to walk between them.  The tiers of bunks and narrow aisles took up every square foot of available space, consequently each man had to keep his gear on the bunk with him. There was only enough vertical clearance between bunks for a man to squeeze in.  To keep one's bunk from sagging and crowding the man below, it was frequently necessary to tighten the ropes that held the canvass to the steel frame.  From any bunk, a man could reach out and easily touch half a dozen of his buddies in nearby bunks. 

Fresh water was available to the troops for drinking and cooking only. The men used sea water for washing, shaving, and showering.  The Army provided an all-purpose saltwater soap because ordinary soap and shaving cream would not lather in the sea water. That soap had the appearance of black sandstone, and felt the same when applied to one's skin.  A person could not easily rinse the soapy brine from his body and it left him feeling as though he had not bathed.  

The latrines, or as the sailors called them the "heads,"  presented another novel experience for the GIs.  They consisted of about a dozen toilet seats secured side by side to the top of a long metal trough. Sea water flowed into one end of the trough and a continuous stream flushed the waste out the opposite end through a pipe to the sea below. The rolling of the ship sometimes sucked frigid air through the pipe onto the bare posteriors of those seated on the stools.  That encouraged a man to drastically cut short the business at hand.  When the sea was calm, the latrine functioned with no particular problems, but if the ship was rolling the water and contents would sometimes wash over the seats.  That often resulted in some getting more out of the trough than was put in.  More than once, someone floated a piece of flaming crumpled paper soaked in lighter fluid down the trough.  That gave the GIs downstream unexpected and startling hot-seats.  It may have been humorous to the perpetrator but proved to be no laughing matter to the recipients of the floating flames.  It became a serious matter when 1st/Sgt. Palacio got the "hot seat."  By the time he felt the heat, there was no one other than himself anywhere near the latrine.

Hot chow was served twice a day in a huge mess hall located down in the hold of the ship. The chow lines were long and it usually took an hour or more to sweat them out.  Unappetizing sustenance was dispensed at one end of the huge compartment.  Each man carried his individual mess gear and ate standing at long narrow tables that ran the full length of the room.  As one tried to eat his meal, he moved down the table.  By the time he got to the end, he was either through eating, gave it up as a bad job, or got weak at the stomach and let it go!  Next he went to an area aft of the hold where he washed his mess gear in large garbage cans filled with boiling soapy saltwater.  The stench of the boiling brine and GI soap in the hot hold frequently made a strong stomach weaken. After washing their mess gear, it was essential to rinse it in a similar can filled with boiling water.  If the mess gear was not thoroughly rinsed, one was sure to get a severe case of the GIs (diarrhea).  The steel deck was always wet and slippery with spilled food and lost meals.  Frequently men were unable to retain their meals long enough to get out of the hold, consequently most did not linger while they were eating or washing their mess gear.  When they were finished, they made their way up the endless flights of ladders and out to the open deck to fresh air.  It was a common sight after meals to see the rails lined with seasick GIs.  They hung on for dear life, wrenched and fed the remains of their meal to the fish.  

Many men suffered from severe cases of mal-de-mer, which discouraged them from going down the long hot ladders and passages to the mess. There was supposedly a strict rule against taking food from the mess hall to the sleeping quarters, which nearly everyone openly violated. Sandwiches and other items were carried to the men who were too sick to leave their bunks.  One of the most afflicted men on the ship was 1st/Sgt. Palacio, who did not object when someone broke the rule and brought him a bite to eat. 

Fatigue details, such as KP, scrubbing decks and cleaning latrines, were everyday routine, but no one was overworked and everyone managed to get plenty of sack time.  There were no written duty rosters such as the men were accustomed to in garrison however, each day the 1st Sergeant would seek out KP and latrine details, and put the finger on whomever he could catch.  Dodging work details became SOP and was a game that the men loved to play with 1st/Sgt. Palacio.  At the sight of the "Top Kick," a man would quickly and quietly make himself scarce and hide out in a lifeboat or another concealed place on deck.

One afternoon, after pulling KP in the officers mess, Pvt. Bill Carello returned to the squad area with a large canned ham and some loaves of bread.  For supper that evening, several Second Platoon GIs feasted on ham sandwiches on the open deck.  That was far more pleasant than making the onerous trip down to the reeking hold.  Company A was fortunate in having been quartered on the Promenade Deck, only one deck below the officers' mess.  That strategic location of the Company made it possible for other men in the Second Platoon to make similar unauthorized requisitions during the journey.   Daily "abandon ship" drills were SOP.  Company officers attempted to hold training sessions on topics such as: instruction on the care and cleaning of equipment, how to survive in combat, what to do and say if captured, etc.  The training sessions never seriously got underway, and after a day or two the "brass hats" abandoned the idea.  There really was not sufficient space on the crowded ship to hold the sessions and seasickness caught up with many officers and NCOs.  Previously, the men had sat through many sessions on those subjects, so nothing was lost. 

Regulations allowed each man to bring only five dollars aboard the ship to spend in the ship's store.  Other than for the purchase of cigarettes, the money was mainly used to finance the poker and crap games that took place day and night.  Some men found themselves in games of chance with the Navy men and frequently came out second best.  Though no one wanted to admit it, the sailors were probably the better poker players, which resulted in most of the soldiers' currency remaining at sea with the crew.  

The ship's officers frequently reminded the troops that the USS West Point was sailing alone without escort or protection of any kind.  To avoid detection by the Nazi U-boats, the ship sailed across the open sea at full speed.  Every few minutes it changed its course, making a clearly visible zigzag wake.  Naval personnel informed the troops that at 29 knots or better, the USS West Point could outrun any Nazi U-boat that it sighted.  At night she sailed under strict blackout conditions, which meant that after dark the men were forbidden to light a match or smoke on deck.  Standing orders were to never throw anything overboard, not even a match or a cigarette butt.  Trash of any kind, no matter how small, could leave a trail detectable by well- trained surface or air spotters.

During the daylight hours men could be seen sitting and standing around the open decks, leaning against the bulkheads, or on their bunks reading the pocket books.  In the evenings men would often gather around in small groups and sing.  A few of the fellows provided some accompaniment with harmonicas.  Among the most popular songs with the troops were "Meet Me in St. Louis," "Don't Fence Me in," "The Last Time I Saw Paris," "The White Cliffs of Dover," "Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition," "Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall," "Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree," "Der Fuehrer's Face," and "Comin' In On A Wing And A Prayer."   . . .  and of course the ever popular cowboy and hillbilly songs, which made for good group singing.

The long evenings between chow and retreat provided a great deal of time for chatting and just general shooting the breeze.  Every night men lined the rails in the darkness.  Some simply gazed at the stars or watched the bright phosphorescent waves roll by as the huge ship plowed through the sea. The salty aroma of the ocean was ever present in the air.  Men talked at length about their homes, wives, kids, sweethearts, families, what they did before the war, and what they planned to do after the war.  During the nine days the regiments were at sea, the men learned more about each other's personal lives than they did all during the time that they were together in training.  For some strange reason, very seldom did anyone bring up the subject that many would not be making the return trip home..  Pfc George Sheeley recalled: "I was sitting in a circle on the deck with six or eight of my Company A/276 comrades.  We were discussing what the future held for us.  My buddies were very confident that nothing bad would happen and we would all go home when the war was over.  Those GIs were later killed."  One night Sgt. John Cummings and Pfc Brian Ledoux were leaning on the rail and chatting as they watched the stars.  Sgt. Cummings commented that one or possibly both of them would be killed before it was over.  A month later John Cummings was killed on the banks of the Rhine River.  Brian Ledoux was one of those very few in the Company who was not wounded. 

Frequent topics of discussion were speculation about where the USS West Point was bound and about what the mission of the Trailblazers would be.  Rumors were commonplace. From nowhere rumors developed that had the Trailblazers bound for all corners of the globe.  One day the "scuttlebutt" would be that the ship was bound for Liverpool, the next day Morocco, the next day Greenland, etc.  The most palatable, yet the most unlikely, rumor was that they were going to Liverpool then to Paris.  In Paris, a special cadre would retrain the men to be Military Police for future occupation duty.  That rumor went as far as to report that seamen saw cases of white helmets, white leggings, white belts, and other MP gear down in the hold.  Passing those rumors along with a little embellishment at each repetition helped pass the time of day. Everyone knew that the crates in the hold contained machine guns, mortars, spare parts, and other weapons of war.  As for the ship's destination, the crew had many convinced that it would be Liverpool. Other ports in Europe were either too small or too badly damaged to accommodate a vessel as large as the USS West Point.  

During the midmorning hours of December 13, some soldiers sighted land on the distant horizon.  They thought for sure that they were looking at the British Isles and would soon be in Liverpool.  Later when the USS West Point sailed through the Straits of Gibraltar, the men discovered that the land they saw was not England but Spain.  For most of the day one could clearly see the coast of Spain from the port side and faintly the coast of Africa from the starboard side.  Seeing the Rock of Gibraltar, which everyone immediately recognized from pictures, shattered all hopes that the regiments were destined for Liverpool.

That morning the USS West Point picked up a destroyer escort, which remained with her for the rest of the journey.  Watching the destroyer and the aircraft over Gibraltar, reassured the troops that they were no longer alone in a world of nothing but ocean.  After passing Gibraltar, the weather ceased to be sunny and balmy and there was a decided chill in the air.   The Ship's Captain lifted all blackout and smoking restrictions and the GIs had the comfort of knowing that their ship had some protection from the nearby destroyer.   At night the entire ship was lit up with running lights and for the first time since leaving Boston Harbor, the men were allowed smoke on deck after dark.  At that point in time, the Allies had air supremacy in the Mediterranean.

On the morning of December 16, after two days of peaceful sailing on the Mediterranean, the USS West Point reached her destination.  She lowered her anchors a few miles offshore in the harbor of the French Port of Marseilles.  Bombed out wreckage littered the harbor and docks. Due to the severe damage to the piers and breakwaters, the port simply could not accommodate a ship as large as the USS West Point.  British and American bombings and total destruction by the retreating Germans, left the Port of Marseilles in shambles.  The superstructures of many scuttled French naval vessels were observed protruding through the surface of the bay.  It was very unlikely that any GI aboard the West Point would soon forget his first sight of Europe.  That massive destruction was a small sample of the warfare that he would soon be a part of.