USS Intrepid Battle Brand of Bonding...Sadly, my good buddy "Smitty" didn't survive a triple bypass operation. FCM Leon Smith and I reported to Intepid's pre-commissioning crew direct from Radar School in Virginia Beach. On the ferry ride over to Newport News we asked an old salt "What kind of a ship is the Intrepid?"...he replied..."A sea going gargage scow!" Well...after checking in at the Newport News barracks, which seemed to be run by a secretary in the Administration Building, who told us..."toss your sea bag on an empty bunk...get your meals and pay here."
There were no fences; no gates, and no guards anywhere. We found this odd, and the next day Casey appeared. Casey was a Chief Bo'sun Mate with five hash marks on his sleeve, and a good conduct medal. He bellowed and rounded up eveeryone in sight into the back of an open platform truck which headed for the ship. About half the sailors jumped off at red lights, but Smitty and I, who now knew Intrepid was an aircraft carrier stayed. We couldn't wait to see it, even though it meant loading stores. We stood on the dock, in stunned silence, awestruck, with jaws agape. Neither of us had ever seen any ship this huge. It was spectacular. By the time Commissioning Day came around (August 16, '43), Smitty and I no longer got lost on the ship. Smitty, a tough Jew from the Bronx, and me, a tough Mick from Long Island had become the best of buddies.
Fast forward to November 23, '44...Smitty had the luck of the Irish that day (we called him Sheriff Snuffy Smith...he was in charge of the standby radarmen in Ready Room Four during GQ). That day, he went to Commander Mitchell, our division Officer and said "Look Commander, I'm a damn good radar operator, one of the best, and I belong in CIC during GQ, not baby sitting back in Ready Room Four". Commander Mitchell agreed..."OK...back to CIC from now on." That order gave Smitty 65 more years of life, since all 26 of the radarmen on stand-by duty in Ready Room Four were killed instantly when the Kamikazes crashed into Intrepid. Smitties's bonus years were spent working, raising a family and retiring with wife Essie to Palm Beach Gardens in Florida, where I finally caught up with him after a 50 year gap.
This tough Jew and this tough Mick, may have gone through gentrification, but our special Intrepid Brand of Bonding remained intact. Especially when shared a couple of days on my annual visit with him in Florida each year. "I know he's waitinf for me, hopefully...up there!" - Story by FCM Ray Stone, Radarman 2/c, '43-'45.
Racing the Randy!...We were out at sea and I was on watch on #4 Ships Service Generator which is in #4 boiler room. Over the 1MC came Commander Jalbert (Chief Engineering Officer)..."dial 001"...(the Captain). Soon, the speed of the forced draft blower on the boiler increased. A few minutes later, over the 1MC, another call..."Cmdr. Jalbert, dial 001".
The 2nd boiler in #4 fire room was then fired up and I asked one of the boiler men what was going on. He siad they had all 8 boilers fired and on-the-line (normal steaming is 4 of 8 boilers on-line), and he didn't know why.
I got relieved from my watch and went up to the electrical power shop and asked what was going on. Word was that the USS Randolph and Intrepid were both heading for home and there was only one carrier pier open. The last one in would have to anchor out...SO!...the race for the pier was on...and...WE WON! We moored to pier 7 and the Randolph had to anchor out in the bay. - Story by FCM Curt Garrett, June '62 - Oct. '65
"One year, Curt planned to present Boston Brewer pitcher Curt Suppan with a Flag flown from the Intrepid. Mr. Suppan donated $50 for each strikeout he made to the Intrepid Fallen Heroes Fund. "Well Done to both men!"
The DOME...I served aboard Intrepid back in '69-'70, and was aft, oon the 0-6 level. My space and responsibility was the 'Dome' which had the SPN-30 radar inside. As the Captain was up forward on the same level, I would run into him every so often. It was Capt. I. Linder, and I literally ran into him a lot.
One time I ran into him just forward of my space (I was looking down when it happened)...and...not thinking and not knowing who it was...and my mind was somewhere else...I abruptly said "Hey, watch where your going!", before looking up to see it was the old man. WELL!...if I could have jumped ship at that time I would have! Anyway, he was pretty nice to me. He knew where I worked so he said to me "I think you need to go back to your space and remember who you ran into." He did this with a slight smile so I knew I wasn't in much trouble.
I was in OE Division as an ET. I loved the Intrepid when I was aboard and made some good friends but unfortunately I don't know where they are today. I was born in Brooklyn, NY and lived there my first 18 years. After that, I was in NJ for years until my wife and I moved to Melbourne, FL. Regards to all. - Story by FCM Marc Worchel, ETN3
My Brightest Moment...Actually, it wasn't the brightest move during my time as a Flight Deck Director...not even close. It was a bright sunny day as we sailed around the Mediterranean Sea conducting Air Operations. The project at hand for the flight deck crews was to re-spot aircraft that were scheduled for the next launch.
I was spotting A4Ds along the port side deck edge aft of #2 elevator...standard practice for launch preparations. After I spotted two or three A4s they were chocked and tied down. In my head phones I heard the Air Boss ask me if there was enough room to operate the elevator without interfering with the parked A4, first one in line. The Boss was looming far above in the Island and had a bird's eye view of the activities going on below on the flight deck. #2 elevator had a guard rail system which consisted of stanchions rising straight out of the deck surrounding the elevator for safety. Along the top of them a cable connected each one to the next in line creating a guad rail of sorts.
The Boss's question went on to see if I accounted for the height of the stanchions when raised. I turned and looked at the A4 realizing one of it's drop tanks was directly over one of the stanchions. He and I agreed to summon the elevator operator before having to re-spot the already prepared aircraft parked wing tip to wing tip, to save time.
The Elevator operator arrived on site and before I could confer with him about the height of the stanchions, he automatically pushed the "up" button. As they raised from the deck I screamed at him, at the top of my lungs, to get him to stop them but, alas, it was too late. I glanced up at the Boss and saw his bewildered face glaring at me through his observation window.
It usually took around 9 or 10 seconds for the stanchions to reach full height. Those 9 or 10 seconds were the longest seconds of my whole four month Yellow Shirt career...I quaked in my boots, reluctant to look up at the Boss again.
There was silence by the time the stanchions reached their full extension...NO!...they didn't puncture the drop tank (with 300 gal of JP4). They stopped, fortunately, short of the tank, 'bout 2" short. The Air Boss; elevator Operator and I had said nothing (.I think we were in shock at the thought of what could have happened. I sheepishly looked up at the Boss's window...he was gone! - Story by FCM Robert Copple, '60-'61