Sea Stories
by Buddy Wilson
Dear John:
Here are a few things I recall from my service aboard the Whetstone. You may use them as you please. Sometime later I may have some more if you would like
Buddy Wilson, or Buddy "Willy" Wilson, BMSN. I went aboard the Whetstone of March 1952, and that was my home until summer of 1955 I was transferred to the Coronado amphib base summer of 1955 to await separation in Dec 2 1955. I entered the navy Dec 5 1951 boot camp in great lakes. What's so special Dec 5 1951? That's the day the Whetstone set sail back to San Diego ending their first deployment to Korea after being recommissioned taken out of mothball. When I enlisted in the Navy I hitched a ride to Rolla, MO from my home at Duke to join. One of the people in the truck with us was a retired Navy captain. When I told him I was going to Rolla to join the Navy he gave me some real sound advice He said, "Son, you will do ok in the Navy if you will remember two things if it moves salute it, if it doesn't paint it. If you will do that, you will be ok." I thought of him when I got to go to Chicago for my first day of Liberty when I was in boot camp and I saluted the doorman in front of the hotel. By the look on his face he had been saluted many times before. When I enlisted or a year or so before that, I quit high school in my junior year. I thought I had to quit because I had a problem getting to school. It rained a lot that spring, creek would flood, wash out the bridge. Would miss 2 or 3 days. The county would repair the bridge. Buses would run so I could get to school. About a week later here comes the rain again, and, do the same thing over and over. I got so far behind I just quit school. I went to Ft. Wood to work for #1 service club washing dishes in the cafeteria. I became friends with some young army recruits in basic training. Some of them told me over and over "Don't get drafted in the army. Join the navy. You will not like the army." So I joined the Navy. When I went into the recruiting office the Marine Sgt. was sitting at the front desk, he asked, "May I help you?", I said, "I want to join the Navy", I then seen machinist mate first class Eldon Rosenberg sitting at a desk. Eldon Rosenberg stayed with me got me signed up to go into the navy. He asked me what religion I was, I asked him what he meant, he said, "What church? Protestant or Catholic?" I said "Neither, I go to the Church of God." He wrote down Protestant. How many people would remember their recruiter 55 years later. I have a special reason for remembering Eldon Rosenberg MM1.
A year or so after I went aboard the Whetstone, while watching some shipmates playing cards, I noticed a machinist mate first class also watching the card game. As I looked at him he looked very familiar, so I asked him, "Do I know you?" he said, "You should, I recruited you." Yes, it was the Eldon Rosenberg who had recruited me into the Navy. Now a crew member of the USS Whetstone LSD 27. What are the chances of that happening? To serve with your recruiter. Also Bill Rosenberg, Eldon's cousin, came aboard to visit Eldon. Bill later was assigned to the Stone after I left. Bill tells me Eldon went to nuclear school, received a commission, and was captain of his own sub, and was Lt commander. Eldon passed from this life. He succumbed to cancer. After boot camp at Great Lakes, I was assigned to the Whetstone. The navy sent us by train to San Diego to go aboard. Remember this was 1952. When I arrived in San Diego, the Stone was at sea on some kind of training exercise. The navy put us up at a Naval base, I don't remember but one person that was with us that I'd went through boot camp with. But anyway there were more than two of us waiting for the Whetstone to come back. There was a Whetstone crew member returning from leave. His name was Goldberg. Poor fella, When we discovered he was from the Whetstone we gave him no rest. We asked him so many questions he about flipped his lid. Finally he said angrily, "No more questions! You just wait. You will see when you get there" After dark one evening the Whetstone sent number one LCVP to take us to the ship. It was dark and the boat had a cover over the well deck. As we were boarding the coxswain said, "Careful, one of the bilge plates are out." Having no idea what a bilge-plate is, or was, I just hung on for dear life. Just about scared out of my wits. Later I became bow-hook and then coxswain of that same LCVP.
When I went aboard the Stone I was assigned to the deck force division 1. I was given a new name. I was no longer called Buddy or Bud Wilson. My new name was "Willy". I don't remember anyone ever calling me Bud, Buddy, or even Wilson. It was Willy. Most everyone was called by their last name, while some, like me, were called by their nickname. For most people, being assigned to the deck force was but a temporary thing, they soon moved on to other ratings, as for me, I wanted to be a Boatswain-mate. You all know what kind of job a seamen apprentice would do, sweeping, swabbing, chipping, and painting. But one job was messenger of the watch, which included reporting to the captain at twelve noon. One of my first, if not the first time, as messenger of the watch I knocked on the captain's office door, entered, clicked my heels together and saluted sharply and said, "Sir, the officer of the deck reports, it is twelve noon, all is well, and the chronometers are wound." Returning my salute and asked with a grin, "Son, what is a chronometer?" -- I said, ""Duh, I don't know, sir." He proceeded to tell me what a chronometer is. That was about 54 years ago. I don't remember the captain's name, but I will never forget what a chronometer is. That's the start of my career aboard the Whetstone. The remainder of these stories may or may not be in chronological order.
By the end of 1952, we were heading to Korea via Japan. We had a new captain, his first command. I just happened to be on helmwatch when we entered Tokyo bay. As most of you know the submarine nets are quite a long distance from where we would tie up, Otherwise the captain or officer of the con would have set special sea detail. And at that time a quartermaster would take the helm watch when we were going into port. When we approached the sub net to go through the opening the officer gave me an order, "Left full rudder." In a few seconds a frantic order, "Reverse the rudder, reverse the rudder." Please remember this happened over 50 years ago, and I'm telling you what I remember. Later I was told the port side collided with a net buoy from about mid-ship to the stern. I have, as far as I know, the distinction of being the only seamen to paint a red-stripe at the water-level without using a paintbrush on the Whetstone.
One time, when special sea detail was set. It may have been the same time we rubbed the submarine net buoy going into the Tokyo bay. Quartermaster Russell came into the wheel-house to take the wheel. Quartermaster Russell was a native American. His nickname was 'Little Beaver'. That is what all the enlisted men called him. Little Beaver. I pressed the buzzer to inform the officer in charge of the con I was being relieved. I should have said 'Quartermaster Russell', but instead I said 'Little Beaver was taking the helm'. The officer said, " What!' in a very loud voice. I quickly said 'Quartermaster Russell sir.' The officer in charge did not appreciate Little Beaver taking the helm.
