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Useless Trivia The world's first passenger train made its debut in England in 1825.
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Member Biographies :
Member Biography
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| Title: |
NAVY DAYS - CHAPTER 5 |
| By: |
John Prichard
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THE GUN FACTORY |
| Bio: |
The Navy Gun Factory is situated in Southeast Washington where the Anacostia joins the Potomac. Bethesda, Maryland is a suburb of Washington off the Northwest corner of Washington, a considerable distance away. Esther and I decided to move closer to the gun factory, especially since the Navy would pay for the move. We moved to 5103 3rd Street, North East. (Perhaps, I should explain here: Washington, D.C. is divided into four quadrants, the United States Capitol being the center.) It was a red brick "Row" house.
As per "Orders", I reported to Captain McCommus at the Gun Factory. I was a "General Practitioner", "Michigan", Charlie Ryan was Radiologist, "Screw" Driver, from Bluefield, Virginia was Ophthalmologist, Commander Fleck was second in Command. And, we had another junior Medical Officer, whose name I forget. The name of the Medical Service Officer, who loved to play Bridge fades from memory. We played Bridge at Lunch time, sometimes a two hour lunch. The Corpsmen: Ah! the corpsmen. I have told you that to be a Naval Medical Officer places you in a privileged class. Navy Corpsmen adhere to this fabrication. My corpsman did most everything for me. kept me in line, acted as my factotum. This sounds sycophantic, but Navy corpsmen are far from that. Perhaps, I should explain their bravery. He is the Marine's doctor on the battlefield. For instance, when a Marine is shot, the corpsman rushes to his aid. He then becomes the second target for that enemy who shot the Marine. In battle, I believe the highest casualty rate is Navy Corpsmen.
Commander Fleck had been on Tarawa and Iwo Jima. He was a clean cut Naval Medical Officer. I remember his story. The caves on the beaches had been cleared of "Japs" by "Flame Throwers" Taking the "Beaches" had been accomplished, yes, the Marines again, from LSTs and LCIs. The third wave, of the eight waves is the most deadly, for by then the enemy on the beach has set his "Sights". Night fell; "Our Boys" began slipping into those same caves for protection from enemy fire higher up. The enemy fire from higher up was intense. I remember his grim and determined face. "For my own sake, my protection, my life, the Marines urged me to take cover in a cave." I told them "I am not going into any cave; the stench alone is abhorrent. I am going to spend the night on the beach", mid fire, mid danger, mid death. Later Commander Fleck somewhat shyly admitted that he was claustrophobic. He survived, unharmed. War is like that; Athena has her favorites. ----- Commander Pollard, (I can't remember his role at the dispensary). His Story: Commander Pollard was a Medical Officer on the Carrier Yorktown when It was sunk by the Japanese in the Pacific. He told us that rescue came from nearby Destroyers. Many sailors were picked up from the sea. A few however, were "chewed up" by the propellers of these same Destroyers, as they would suddenly turn on full power to jump-escape an enemy submarine or a suspected, false alarmed, enemy submarine. I have often wondered what the official Navy letter said to the parents of a sailor "chewed up" by the screws of our own destroyers.
Head Quarters for the Navy Band were at the Naval Gun Factory. I talked with the Cellist, a young guy, who had played for the New York Philharmonic or some such orchestra in New York City. They were all professional musicians.
THE DUTY: About once a month I had "The Duty"; had to spend the night at the Gun Factory. We ate dinner in a small dinning room above the hall where the Navy Band practiced. This duty evening, I sat with a Marine Warrent Officer. Blue eyed, blue as blue can be, soft spoken, he confided in me that he was retiring from the Service, going home to Kentucky and getting married. He was asking me, as a physician, about some of the aspects of marriage. As we were quietly discussing some of these aspects, I glanced at his breast full of medals. At the top of this heap of medals was one, a field of blue with five stars. - The Congressional Medal of Honor. Mutedly, I inquired: "Would you tell me how you got that?" - "We were defending on top of a hill, my squad of Marines, when the Chinese swooped down on us. Massively outnumbered, we saw them advance, come up the hill, swarm up the hill. (It wasn't Porkchop Hill); it was one of those other famous, or famous then, hills.) "My corporal turned to me.: We're gonna die, aren't we Sergeant?" Softly, "No Corporal, and I told them what we could do to get out of that mess." I cannot recall the details of his "Get out", but get out they did, and the now Warrent Officer in the U.S. Marines was wearing the Congressional Medal of Honor. We resumed eating and the marriage talk. I always "tear up" when I tell this story. His story was modestly muted, down played; there must have been violence, mayhem and blood on that hill. --- How many military men of high rank, who have come to achieve high political status, who knew war, have led this country into war? How many recreant draft dodgers have?
THE NAVY WAY: The Head quarters of the United States Marines is located only a few blocks from the Navy Gun Factory. The four star general, Marine Corps Commandant lives there in a large white frame home. The parade grounds are his front yard. This is the headquarters of the Marine Band. They practice there. Colonel Philip Sousa was their band master in times past. For perfunctory medical assessments, this Marine Command wove us Gun Factory Doctors into their table of organization. One of our duties was a monthly inspection of the food service, the meat in the Large refrigerators, anything to do with food, which might become contaminated and cause sickness. This day was my day to inspect. I knew nothing of such a role. My Captain, McCommus said, "Don't worry, they'll take care of you." I reported. Arriving early, I had time to watch the Marine Band march on the Parade Ground; in addition on that day, Richard Nixon, Vice President then, ceremoniously presented seven Congressional Medals of Honor, six post humously. I reported to a Veterinarian Doctor: "Come with me Doc". We inspected. I knew nothing. At the meat locker he condemned many pounds of steak. "Sour Round". I still do not know what "Sour Round" is except that it must be bad meat. But, I signed the paper. T'was all "Navy Proper". I returned to the Navy Gun Factory about ten blocks away.
My stories are thinning out. MY INVENTION: I was at the Navy Gun Factory, after all. a source of many and divergent talents. It seems they could do anything with metal. As most big organizations, the Navy had a rule: We'll process your invention through the Patent Office, obtain a patent, but then it's ours. My invention was an 8mm. movie reel which would grasp the damn end of the 8mm. film without the teasing trouble of difficult insertion. The guys at the gun factory made me a model. It worked perfectly. (I still have it.) The Navy lawyers researched it and found out that some Swedish guy had invented it in 1939. Some of the Doctors had their automobile bumpers "Chromed" I was one of them. My 1952 Dodge had shiny chrome bumpers. In the Navy it's called "Cumshaw". You get a little something; stealing is too strong a word, you trade a little something, you always come out ahead. It's called "Cumshaw". It's a Navy word.
NOW, FOR THE REFLECTIONS OF AN OLD MAN:
Joining the Navy is like sin or addiction, a little at the beginning, a little more, and finally, you're in, and you don't realize how smoothly you've adapted to a war machine. As a Medical Officer, you are adulated, looked up to, and even pampered. In peace time life on a Cruiser is exceedingly fine. For the sailor pulled through the screws of a Destroyer in wartime, not so fine. He cannot express his opinion, else argumentation for "Just or Unjust War" would not be so lopsided. I'd like to put in a "Plug" for the Human Race. we're all pretty much alike. Look at the genetic code. I have written before: As a medical student, I used to "Cut brains" with Walter Freeman, eminent psycho-neurologist of that time. Pulling a brain from the crock, I could not tell whether black or white, terrorist or not, good or bad. In the end, we are products of our environment to which we adapt. I believed we had disproved Bismarck: "Might makes Right". Going back in chronology, I believe Plato: "FOR FACTIONS, THRASYMACHUS, ARE THE OUTCOME OF INJUSTICE AND HATREDS AND INTERNECINE CONFLICTS, BUT JUSTICE BRINGS ONENESS OF MIND AND HARMONY. IS IT NOT SO?" Socrates, "The Republic". If you believe this, as I do, why not attempt to break the barriers of factions with oneness of mind and justice?
John Prichard, M.D.
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