Stories

I was born at about two o'clock in the morning of October 17, 1925. The house in which this happened was at 819 So. F Street in Arkansas City, Kansas. I know nothing else about the place. I never saw it later, and we didn't live there long. Actually, Grandpa and Grandma Hargett lived there. We were just staying there temporarily. I was told it was about 6 miles north of Oklahoma. A check of the map indicates it was probably closer to 4 miles.

The area just south of Kansas at this place was known as the Cherokee Strip. It was a piece of land 226 miles from east to west and about 58 miles from north to south. Arkansas City was near the center of this east west line. About 32 years before I was born, the Cherokee Strip Land Rush occurred. The story of this land rush is beyond the scope of this narrative, but gives an idea of the wildness of the time.

My father was working on the Southern Division of the Santa Fe Railroad. The Southern Division went from Newton, Kansas, to Fort Worth, Texas. Dad worked on the Bridge Repair crew in the central section, which was in Oklahoma. As I said we didn't live on F street very long because my mother took me and tried to follow my father as he went from place to place in Oklahoma. Mother talked about several of the Oklahoma towns where we lived briefly, but I can't remember much about what she said. I do remember a few things she told me.

I learned to walk twice before I was a year old. It seems I learned to walk rather early, about August. Then shortly after that I came down with whooping cough and wasn't able to walk. Then in Late September, I recovered enough ot start walking again.

Shortly after my first birthday, mother and I went to Ellington, Missouri, to visit Aunt Esther and Uncle Rowland. Ellington was a little town about 100 miles south of St. Louis. I think she went to help out when Eva Dell was born, or a little after. She was born on October 20, 1926 so that would work out, though it might have been later. Two things I remember my mother telling about the trip.

We took the train across Oklahoma and into Missouri. It was probably the Missouri Pacific R.R. We traveled on a pass that other lines honored. When mother put me down on the leather seat of the coach, I cried and wouldn't settle down. It just wasn't like my bed. Mother got a pillow from the porter and laid me down on the pillow. It was enough like my bed that I went to sleep and was all right the rest of the trip.

The other thing I remember she told me was that I collected ticks. Apparently every tick in Missouri decided I was food. I don't know how the ticks found me, I am sure they didn't let me roam the hills at that age. I also can't imagine that they let me outside much at that time of year. Maybe they brought them in on their clothes.

After my second birthday, I don't know how long after, my folks bought a house. Actually, they bought it on contract. It was located on South 7th Street in Arkansas City. It was the first house I actually remember, though I was too young to remember when they bought it. This was probably in early 1928.

The first think I remember was a tragedy. It occurred in late 1928 or very early 1929; about the time I turned 3, or shortly after. The time can be narrowed down because it was after cool weather and before about mid December, when mother couldn't get around too goo. There was a neighbor across the street who had a little girl about my age. We played together quite a bit. One morning there was a scream from their house. Mother picked me up and ran over to their house. When we walked in, this little girl was laid on the sofa, stark naked. Her skin was red and the blood vessels were quite visible. What had happened was that she had come down and stood in front of an open gas stove in her flannel night dress, and it caught fire.

The reason I know I remember that incident rather than remembering mother talking about it is because she never mentioned it. When I was in my fifties, I was telling her about it. She was surprised. She remembered it, and commented that she remembered that I had my head buried in the hollow of her shoulder. She was sure I was too young to remember and she never talked about it.

Another thing I remember is when granddad Davis died. That was in January of 1928, so I am sure I remember them telling about it as I was only 2. He died in Whitewater, Kansas, so the folks went, about 80 miles. With transportation being what it was in those days, this was a fairly long trip. They left me with the grandparents. Granddad Hargett was very protective of me. I was the only grandchild at that time, and remained the only grandson for over 20 years. He insisted that I was to sleep with them. I insisted that I would sleep with Aunt Pearl, who was still in high school. Grandmother sided with me, probably because I was insisting more loudly. Eventually, I slept with Aunt Pearl.

The next thing I remember was the twin’s birth. It is difficult to determine what I actually remember as opposed to what I was told later. But either way, I remember. On the night of February 6th, granddad Hargett stopped by the house, and when he left I was with him. Had I been older, this would have raised a red flag, because it just didn’t happen. The next day I was taken back home, probably only for a visit. And, surprise, surprise, there were two little baby girls Actually, they weren’t so little. They were exactly 7 lbs each. Although I had no idea where they came from, I think I decided right then they were keepers.

Aunt Elma was living with us when the twins were born. She lived with us off and on while we lived in Arkansas City. On the morning of the 7th, she stayed with Mother as long as she could, then she raced to work. On the way she stopped at Grandmother’s and told her that mother needed her, then went by and told Aunt Mildred. She had probably called Dr. Clayton from the Simpson’s, across the street. At 9:30 am Grandmother and Aunt Mildred were there, and Dr. Clayton was there. That was when Alberta was born. Mother always laughed at how excited Grandmother was when at 9:45 Dr Clayton said, “here comes another one.”

Dad was not there, he was working in Oklahoma on a bridge. The twins were born on Thursday and he came in on the weekend. I think he arrived early Saturday morning. When he arrived, Aunt Elma and Aunt Mildred were there and decided to pull a trick on him. They hid one of the girls behind the cedar chest. When he got there the other girl was in bed with mother. Dad didn't say anything, so in a few minutes they handed him the other girl saying "surprise". The surprise backfired. As big as mother was, dad knew that there were two. So when they only gave him one, he assumed something had happened to the other. Hiding the girl was an impulse and they never thought he would jump to that conclusion.

Aunt Zeoda and Aunt Pearl were not present at the event. However they got involved after. Aunt Zeoda tells me they may have set a record when it came to diaper washing.

We lived in this house until just before the second grade, so I remember a lot about it. It was not a large house, but it had a front room and a kitchen along the south side and two bedrooms on the north side. There was a front porch and a back porch, which went clear across the house. The roof of the porches was attic, which made the roofline longer than the living quarters of the house. The house had gas, running water, and sewer. All these were added after the house was built. Originally, there was an outhouse at the back lot line. The people who owned the house before us, knowing what was done in the outhouse, couldn’t imagine doing that in the house. So they compromised. They moved the outhouse to the north end of the back porch. They put in a commode with a water closet over it. It flushed with a chain pull. It worked perfectly except in the winter it would have frozen. So, in the winter carrying a pail of water out from the kitchen and pouring it in flushed it.

There was a family that lived one or two blocks from us while we lived on 7th St. whose name was Cullers. They had a little girl named Melba Frances. She and I were born at about the same time, and both our families lived in the neighborhood of F. Street. We also were both named Franci(e)s. I don’t know if there is a story connected with that, but it is possible. I remember that we walked up to their house to visit on 7th street.

I started to school while living there. The boy next door and I walked everyday. It was about a mile and we usually walked along the canal instead of along the street. One or two days before the last day of school, we noticed some minnows in the canal. This distracted us enough that we were late for school. It ruined a perfect attendance record. That night Mother asked me if I was late for school, and I denied it. She asked me why I had lied to her and kept after me until I finally admitted it. I never lied to her again. I knew she was psychic. It was years later I found out how she knew. Granddad drove up the street with his team and wagon and saw us down in the canal. He got to mother before I got home. My teacher was Mrs. Vaughter. She was a schoolmate of mother’s in normal school. Normal school was where they trained teachers. It wasn’t exactly college, but beyond high school. At the completion of normal school, they received their teacher’s certificate.

Dad was laid off in 1929 before the crash, so things got rougher financially. There was no work because no one had any money. Dad was never one to remain idle, so he worked, when work was available, at a local furniture and appliance store. They had an understanding, they would pay him when and if they got money, but there was a risk there wouldn't be any. When the time came for him to leave, they offered him a radio. It was a high tech radio at the time, so he brought it home. It wasn’t of equal value to the work he did, and it wasn’t what we really needed, but it was something. He placed it on the south wall next to a window. The nearest radio transmitter was Wichita, Kansas, probably 70 miles away. Naturally, nothing came in. He put a wire on the antenna lug and hooked it up to the window screen. We received a signal, but it was more static than signal. He then put a wire on the ground lug and ran it back into the kitchen and wrapped it around the gas pipe. We now had a signal, scratchy, but we could listen. This made an impression on me. I walked back and forth between the gas stove where he tied the ground wire and the radio. I remember so clearly wondering how my dad got music out of that stove and played it through the radio.

The next day I helped him run a wire down through the floor and out to the outside water hydrant for a better ground. We also ran a wire up to the top of the house and made an antenna from the front of the house to the back at the roof peak. I was really amazed when it worked better out of the water faucet. I made up my mind right then I would be a radioman. That was 72 years ago, and I have never wavered from that goal.

Times were hard, food was scarce, but most of what I remember from this era was pleasant. I don’t remember that we children ever went to bed hungry. I am sure that my folks or at least my mother went to bed with no food several times. But, mostly we had food, not what we would have preferred maybe, but food. The same could be said for clothes. Not the latest style, but clean. That is clean until I found a mud hole somewhere.

I especially remember Independence Day, several of them. I shot off firecrackers, big ones. There were 2 and 3 inch ones, cherry bombs, and torpedoes. We got a tiny cannon, put a firecracker in it and stuffed a jacks’ ball in it and fired it. It shot the ball 200 to 300 feet. The following year the Simpson “kids”, they were as old as my parents, across the street got another one and we fired the ball back and forth. All of this would be outlawed today. As far as I am concerned they have totally ruined the Fourth of July.

There were some special things that happened on 7th Street. Uncle Ted and Aunt Mary would drive down occasionally, Elmina and Gloris were lots of fun. Gloris was so near my age we were especially close. At some time while we lived there Uncle Elridge and Aunt Mildred were married. They sent us a telegram. Uncle Earlden came to visit and stayed several days. He was in college and was in ROTC. This made him special in my eyes and I pestered him till he made me a rifle. He cut it out of a board with a coping saw.

Several of my cousins were born while we lived on 7th Street, both on the Hargett and the Davis sides. Some are much older. We were closer to the Hargett side since we all lived in the same area. Later, when we moved to Wichita, this reversed

Since I am talking about cousins, we need to make a “flashback”. My father’s oldest sister, Fay, died when my cousin, Opal, was born. Opal was in the same age group as my parents, and was actually reared by my grandparents, so we always treated her more like an aunt. Then his next sister, May, had 2 children, Roland and Gwendolyn. They seemed much older than I, and we didn’t visit with them much. We were with them some when we were teenagers. Then dad’s older brother, Ted, and Aunt Mary had Elmina, who was about a year and one half older than I, and Gloris who was 3 months younger. These five cousins, of course, were born before we moved to 7th Street. Then Lyle was born in 1931 to Uncle Ted and Aunt Mary.

Aunt Esther, Dad’s older sister married a Davis. He had the same name but was not even distant relation. She had seven children, 4 of them in this time period. Eva Dell was about a year younger, and then came Bubby, Don Dee, and Joyce. These were all on the Davis side of the family. I was the fifth grandchild and the second grandson on that side.

On the Hargett side, I was the first grandchild and the first grandson. The cousins on the Hargett side were all younger. Aunt Zeoda, Mother’s sister, presented us with LaVona. Aunt Mildred, Mother’s oldest sister had 2 daughters, Jaunita and Evelyn. This is the list of cousins at this point of my story. I left Evelyn until last because there is a story here. I got to name her.

One evening Uncle Glenn stopped by to visit with the folks. A new baby had just been born to Aunt Mildred and him earlier that day. I didn’t understand most of what they were talking about, but I picked up on one thing. He asked if they had any suggestions for a name. I immediately “demanded” that they name her Marcille. I was in the first grade and I had fallen head over heels in love with Marcille Morning. She was a beautiful little girl and we got along well together. I walked her home from school a time or two. She lived in the opposite direction so I was late. My mother never scolded me for being late, but discouraged the practice. Apparently they liked the name as well because they named her Marcille. They had already picked out Evelyn as that was Aunt Mildred’s middle name, so Marcille was her middle name. Of course I lost track of Marcille Morning when we left Arkansas City, but I still think it is a pretty name. And, I think Evelyn does too.

My sisters, Alberta and Roberta, were not, of course, my cousins, but must be listed with the “cousins”. They were identical twins. Almost no one could tell them apart. This actually was the case through high school. Mother could tell them apart, as could Aunt Elma. I knew which was which, but my father didn’t. As near as I can remember, no one else could tell them apart until in later years, some of their friends could.

by Frank Davis

If you know anything about the west, you will probably jump to the conclusion that I am talking about Buffalo Bill Cody. I am not, but he will be involved. This story starts in 1936 and I was 11 years old. It was the last of the school year; school was out in Arkansas City, Kansas, when we moved to Wichita. In Wichita there was two more weeks of school. That gave me some time to get acquainted. We rented a house in the 600 block of North Pennsylvania St. We were just about two blocks from Washington School, which was located on the southwest corner of Central and Hydraulic Streets. This is where I would be going to school in the fall.

Central Ave and Hydraulic Street were main streets, Central was U. S. Highway 54. Washington School was located in the eastern 2 blocks of a 5 or 6 block tract of land. The rest of the tract was open land and was referred to as Mathewson's Pasture. We used it as our personal playground. It made a good place to fly model airplanes, and kites. When Carnivals or Circuses came to town, they located there. I learned a lesson that summer. When the Circus came in, several of us hired out the "man" to help unload and set up the circus. It was hard work, but fun. The most fun though, was the prospect of free passes to the circus that evening. When we finished the work and went to collect our passes, the "man" was nowhere to be found. We got our heads together and decided that wasn’t going to be the end of the story. When evening came, we found a place where we could sneak under the tent. Naturally we got caught. The man that caught us looked like as mean a man as we could imagine. However, when we told him what happened, he said "Sure, this has happened before, go ahead. But don't tell anyone I let you in."

During the summer I was told a lot of things about Mathewson's Pasture. Some of it was true and some was not. What I was told was this: William (Bill) Mathewson had owned the land. It was part of his ranch, which was located east of Wichita. He had killed many buffalo to feed the early settlers and had earned the nickname "Buffalo Bill Mathewson". As he grew older he sold off parts of the ranch for housing developments, but kept the "pasture". The story I got was that he had donated the eastern twp blocks for the school. Then when he died, the rest was tied up in the courts. There was a street named Mathewson St. which would have gone through it, but didn't. Later, after we moved away, the street got put through and others were put in named Mathewson Ln., and Mathewson Ct.

I was also told that Buffalo Bill Cody was a fake. He stole the name of Buffalo Bill to use in his western show and he was a showman, not a hero. This was only partly true, as I found out later.

What actually happened was this. Bill Mathewson was the original Buffalo Bill. He got his nickname from killing Buffalo to provide food for the settlers. He was born in 1830. Bill Cody was born in 1846. This was before my time; in spite of the fact that my Grandkids think I am older than dirt. This would have made Bill Mathewson 16 years older than Bill Cody. After Bill Mathewson had earned his nickname, he acquired a ranch on the Santa Fe Trail near Lyons, Kansas, between Huchinson, Kansas, and Great Bend, Kansas. While there, he hired a young wrangler named Bill Cody and they became good friends. Cody was a hero in his own right. He was a Pony Express Rider when he was only 15. During the Civil War he was a scout and a member of the Kansas National Guard. These were only a few of his many accomplishments. When the Kansas Pacific Railway was being built, he contracted to provide the laborers with meat. He killed over 4000 Buffalo to accomplish this. That is the way he earned the nickname of Buffalo Bill.

Years later, Buffalo Bill Mathewson had moved to Wichita and acquired his ranch there, and was an old man. Buffalo Bill Cody was getting up in years and starting the Wild West Show; he visited Buffalo Bill Mathewson in Wichita. He wanted Buffalo Bill's permission to use the nickname in his show, and he realized Buffalo Bill Mathewson was the original "Buffalo Bill". Buffalo Bill Mathewson, told him to go ahead, he had earned it

So I think it is obvious that Buffalo Bill Cody, though not the original "Buffalo Bill", was a legitimate hero and actually did most of the things he was reputed to have done. Buffalo Bill Mathewson did not care that much about the nickname, he was more interested in being a rancher. They died about a year apart. I am pleased to be a part of this history, even if I did get involved nearly 20 years after their death. I would have been more pleased if they had turned Mathewson's Pasture into a park instead of a housing development. But, we don't always get our wishes.

by Frank Davis

The setting for this story is 1945. The events will be as I remember them. Hold in mind that this all happened 57 years ago, so some of the events, especially numbers may have changed a little. They may have increased, as this is normal for old people.

Everyone called him Captain Mac. He was a full four striper, which was unusual for the top man on a destroyer. Usually they were Commanders, and sometimes Lieutenant Commanders. Captain Mac was also commander of our ComDesRon. If I knew what his name was then, I forgot it later. I have located some information lately that indicates that his name is Edwin McDonald.

The ship was USS Wren, DD568. She was a Fletcher class Destroyer. My first experience with the ship was in Pearl Harbor. She had spent several months in duty around Kiska and Attu. These were Islands in the Aleutian chain. I heard a lot about the duty and it was rough duty. Besides the Japs, there was the weather. This was before my time. I think all the Destroyers in ComDesRon were transferring, though it may have been just our five. They were being transferred to Leyte, and their first stop was Pearl Harbor. At Leyte the Destroyers were to be repaired including new equipment. The crews would receive some well-earned R & R.

I had been through a year of school. I had just graduated from radio school at Navy Pier in Chicago and had been advanced to Electronics Technicians Mate 3rd Class (ETM3c). I boarded and was assigned a bunk. Then I was introduced to my superior ETM's. There were only 2 ETMs aboard, an ETM2c and an ETM1c.

My first experience with Captain Mac was not pleasant. Our first stop would be Enewitok Atoll. But on the way, we would drill for battle. The first day out we were called to General Quarters. I had been assigned to my GQ station. I was to get to Emergency Radio first and be sure the transmitters and receivers were operational. This should only take 5 min or so. In the meantime the radioman had another, 5 min, duty he had to perform, and then he showed up. My main GQ station was the Waist Gunner Sound Power Phone. One of the 40mm Ammo passers would be standing in for me until I got there.

Emergency Radio was only important if Main Radio took a direct hit. So we hoped it would never be called on. It was located on the aft side of the passageway on the port side amidships. The ships "hospital", really a first aid station, was located on the aft side of the passageway on the starboard side. The 40mm guns were located on both sides of the ship outside this passageway.

My unpleasant experience started when I took over the sound powered phones. I reported in and got a reply. I didn't understand a word of it. When I was a kid, we made a telephone using 2 tin cans with a piece of string that sounded better. Besides the poor sound quality there was the navy jargon I wasn't acquainted with. After a few exchanges, Captain Mac came on the other end. "Who is this?" "Frank Davis, ETM3c, Sir". "As soon as we secure from general quarters report to me on the Bridge". And the line went dead.

When GQ secured I reported to the Bridge as ordered. I could picture my first Captains Mast. I could see my newly acquired crow sliding down the scuppers. I walked up to Captain Mac, and stood at attention. Not a normal thing to do when under way, but due to the gravity of the situation, it seemed appropriate.

Captain Mac finally looked at me; "who are you?” I told him I was the one he ordered to report to him. "Oh, you are one of the new men. What was your problem?" My hopes slipped up just a little, he was much gentler than a Captains Mast would have been. I told him what the problem was. He turned to one of petty officers on the Bridge and told him to find some time before the next GQ and work with me until I was comfortable with Sound Power Phones. I was immediately dismissed. And, my new friend on the Bridge and I spent several hours on Sound Powered Phones. I never had the problem again, and as far as I know the incident is forgotten, except I will never forget it.

The next day Captain Mac summoned me to the wardroom. You can imagine my feeling of intrepidation. Why would he want me, and in the wardroom? It turned out that his Officers had bought him a gift while in Honolulu. It was a short wave radio, a Halicrafters Sky Buddy. He had it mounted in the wardroom on a shelf so all the officers could enjoy it. I don’t know why he picked on me. Maybe it was because of the sound power phone incident. Or, maybe it was because I was the new man on board. Bur, probably it was because I was the lowest ranking ETM aboard. Anyway, what he wanted me to do was run an antenna for the radio. I hooked up a wire antenna from the radio, ran it out through a porthole and up to the mast. I had to fasten the wire to a place near the end of the yardarm. It was the first time I had to work on the mast, but it wouldn’t be my last. It would not even be the last time I worked on the mast when we were underway.

We made our stop at Enewitok, a couple days work and R & R. We took on provisions and fuel, went swimming in the lagoon, climbed cocoanut trees, and drank green beer. Our next stop was Ulithi where we did about the same things. However, something happened at Ulithi that showed me another facet of Captain Mac. We received a message from Admiral Halsey. I think it was in normal radio code. Anyway the message asked for a volunteer Destroyer for special duty. Captain Mac immediately replied, "We will go, we have a full head of steam and are ready." I learned this was his standard response. Anyway the orders were that we would Escort the USS Idaho to Okinawa, where they were needed. As soon as we got them there, we were to steam on to Leyte.

On the way to Okinawa, the USS Idaho put up their plane towing a target. After the USS Idaho painted the sky black with their big guns, leaving the target in tatters, they invited us to shoot. This would be the first time we had used the 5-inch guns since I came aboard. Captain Mac radioed over to the USS Idaho, saying that they; hadn’t left much of the target, was it all right if we just shot at the tow ring? OK. I don't remember how many shots it took, but we hit the tow ring and the target came floating down.

When we arrived at Okinawa, so many destroyers had been lost; they pressed us into tomcat duty. All through the battle, the volunteer routine was followed. We would get word that a certain tomcat station was having trouble with kamikazes and a destroyer would be damaged or sunk. Captain Mac would volunteer to take its place.

A few days before they secured Okinawa, they sent us on to Leyte to join the rest of our destroyers. We arrived five days before we were to ship out and form the Third Fleet, which was to soften Japan for the invasion. When we arrived we had to cram 2 months of repair and recondition into 5 days. Captain Mac got lots of help from the other ships under his command. And during those 5 days we each had one full day of R & R. I think we had two days of it, with half of us going each day. We went out to a small Island in the gulf. We had a Philippine native doing the cooking.

When we steamed out of Leyte Gulf, we presented a huge spectacle. If anyone was on a cliff overlooking the gulf, he would have been impressed. The Third Fleet under Admiral Bull Halsey was massive. There were six parts of the fleet, each consisting of three Carriers, three Battleships, 3 Cruisers in the nucleus, and six Destroyers forming a ring around them. I think there were a Canadian and an Australian group also. Our primary plan was to steam up and down the east coast of Japan and send planes into the Island to bomb them. The idea was to soften them up for an invasion. As Destroyers, we were called on to rescue downed pilots. Usually the nearest Destroyer would do it. But there were times when the “We volunteer” attitude prevailed. One time Captain Mac volunteered for a mission and we wound up right in the middle of Tokyo Harbor. It seems that a PBM had flown over the area picking up pilots. They either ran out of fuel, or were hit. They managed to get the plane as far as the center of the bay. After we took 23 pilots and crewmembers off the PBM we received orders from Admiral Halsey to sink the plane. So we lay back a few hundred feet and started shooting at the plane. We used our 5-inch rifles and our 40 mm. We were sitting dead in the water in the middle of the Bay making all the noise it was possible for us to make. After we sank the PBM we steamed out of the harbor with no problem. They never shot at us or sent out a plane.

We picked up airmen in all conditions. Some were not injured, or barely so. Some were injured, and some badly injured. Some were not alive. We had one that seemed to be slightly injured. We transferred him to a hospital ship via Bo’sns chair and he arrived dead. Several we buried at sea. We did what we had to do; it was war.

Captain Mac volunteered again and we found ourselves along with four other Destroyers and two Cruisers sailing up and down the coast firing our “big” guns at the island. What we were trying to do was to have them fire back at us. If they did our battle ships were lying out ready to fire back. They never shot at us; if they had I would probably not be writing this.

Another time when Captain Mac Volunteered for special duty, we were sent to Chichi Jima. This was a small Japanese Island that they had bypassed. It just wasn’t important enough for us to invade. We didn’t need it, but I guess they wanted them to know we were aware of them. We spent about 24 hours circling the Island firing our five-inch guns at them. I don’t think we expected any return fire we were just harassing them.

The Japanese surrendered and we were ordered to shoot down all Japanese planes in a friendly manner. There were some who didn’t get the word. We didn’t have to do this; I don’t know if anyone did, but I expect some had to. Within the next day or two Captain Mac volunteered for one of the most interesting experience of the campaign. We were to rendezvous with some Japanese Submarines. When we arrived at their location there were about 37 Submarines of various sizes. They needed to come back into home base and were understandably afraid to come in alone. We wouldn’t have allowed them to anyway. We told them what flags to fly and had them follow us into Tokyo Harbor. It was sort of like a Hen and Chicks.

We brought them back along approximately the same route we used when we, the Cruisers and Destroyers, were bombarding the coast. The Japanese had been instructed to place a ten foot red triangle at each gun emplacement. As we steamed along the shore the triangles were every four hundred feet or so. Each of these places had the possibility of an 18-inch gun mounted on a flat car capable of being pulled back into the cliff. Our goal was Tokyo Harbor, which we made without incident. We delivered the Submarines to their destination and then we tied up to a Destroyer Tender that had just sailed in. This is the reason we were the first Destroyer into Tokyo Harbor after the surrender. We stayed there until almost Thanksgiving Day.

We were across the bay from the USS Missouri when the formal surrender was signed. We could see it, but even up the mast with binoculars we couldn’t see much in the way of detail. But, we knew what was happening. It was after this that Captain Mac was transferred and I lost track of him. Our new Captain was not as colorful as Captain Mac and was either a Commander or Lt. Commander. As I remember the new skipper didn’t try to make too many changes, so we went on as usual.

When I boarded the Destroyer in Pearl Harbor, since I was a Petty Officer, I was issued a Pistol. It was a 45 cal automatic. It was a symbol of authority and we carried it when on special duty such as Gangway Watch. It was always loaded. Captain Mac said that there was nothing so useless as an unloaded gun. As it turned out he may have been the only skipper that felt that way, but it never caused any problem. It did cause what turned out to be an amusing incident. It was our custom when standing watch to take care of the business required. There were reports to complete. But on the midnight watch we were through with all that by 1:30 or 2:00 and we would go back into the passageway and field strip our pistol. It was something to do. The new skipper didn’t change the policy of live ammunition. While we were in Philadelphia, they were beginning to discharge people rather rapidly, and we were getting replacements from other ships. We received a new Petty Officer and he was assigned to Gangway Watch. Everything went according to schedule. Time came that he had time to field strip the automatic. When he finished, he pulled the slide back, aimed the pistol at the overhead and pulled the trigger. After the smoke cleared, we were issued dummy ammunition.

by Frank Davis

Aunt Elma was a very special lady. She was the "old maid" aunt that every child ought to have. In later years she married, but she was still that close to us. She lived with her older brother, my dad, off and on for many years. She was living with us when my sisters were born. Dad was out of work during the big depression so he was barely able to keep food on the table. Aunt Elma worked and used some of her income to provide us children with a few toys and books, as well as some clothing we needed.

She worked in printing offices, that was the job she learned from her father. I don't know all that she did, but I know that she ran a Job Press. This was a press that printed business cards, letterheads, handbills, and small things of that nature. An electric motor drove a relatively heavy press which acted as a flywheel. It took several cycles for it to stop when shut down. She would put the paper, card, or whatever on the bed, guided by some clips so it would be positioned right. While this was happening a roller which had just rolled over some ink now rolled over the type. then the inked type pressed down hard on the paper. The machine was moving fast and when she placed the paper in the press and then pulled her hand back, she never seemed to have enough time. I got to watch her once, and stood by the machine and fully expected her hand to be mangled. She did this all day for years, and never had an accident, that kind anyway.

When I was nine or ten years old she dated a man by the name of Troy Howeisen. I am not sure of the spelling, but that is what it sounded like. He was a barber, but the reason "I" approved was that he was a radio amateur. But a little later she came in and announced that she had married. A man by the name of Fred Qualls. As I remember, we had not heard of him, I am sure the folks had. Of course, I was disappointed, mainly because he was not an amateur. The twins didn't have that hang-up, but resented him because he was taking our Aunt away from us. Naturally we got over these hang-ups later.

After we moved to Wichita, Aunt Elma and Uncle Fred also move to Wichita. Uncle Fred worked part of the time at Boeing. As far as I can remember Aunt Elma didn't work outside of home at that time, although later in life she worked as proof reader at the Wichita Eagle. I visited them several times during my high school years.

After high school I was drafted into the Navy. When I was on my way over seas, I spent a couple weeks in Hawaii. Uncle Fred and Aunt Elma had taken a job with the Army Air Force and he had been sent to Hickam Field, Hawai. I knew this much, but didn't know exactly where he was. Telephones weren't as plentiful and not as technically advanced as now. So I was unable to contact him. I couldn't find him at Hickam Field, mostly because he was fairly new and also he was a civilian. Aunt Elma was in school in the states and would join him in about 6 months. I wrote a letter to him telling him exactly where I was and how he could get in touch with me. I found out later that he got my letter, about 2 months later, and everything was cut out of it except the signature by the censor.

On my way back home, the ship stopped in Hawaii. The war was over and things were less strict. Aunt Elma was there by then and I had no trouble finding them. I had several visits with them while there. Uncle Fred had bought a car, an old Whippet coupe. It was old, but ran smoothly. It really was a 2 passenger car, but we three squeezed into it and toured the whole Island. That way I saw a lot of the sights that the other guys had no way to see.

After we all got home from the war, we settled in Wichita. They bought a place, 3 or 4 acres, near Arkansas Ave., North of Wichita. Uncle Fred died there in 1973, he was born in 1903. After a few years Aunt Elma moved to an assisted living apartment as she couldn't take care of the house. She stayed there for several years, then had to move over to a nursing home. After several years she died there, March 25, 2004. She was 98 years old. She was mentally alert right to the last few minutes. She could write a good letter, it made sense, and the penmanship was far better than mine.

I was born October 17, 1925. She always said I was impatient. If I hadn't been so impatient and got here a day later I would have been born on her twentieth birthday. My dad named me Francis after his sister, Elma Frances. From what I learned later, I am sure this is true.

If you were to contact my sisters and get all our experiences, almost entirely good, about Aunt Elma, it would fill a book, a large book.