December 29th, 1941 to April 8, 1942

First raid on the Rock—unknown number of HBs and 13 DBs—How many HBs shot down-one to No. 1 gun of James. From then on raids at same time of day; day in, day out—Me lying in the pit spotting planes, chewing tobacco, unconcerned and Minnis and Aprai down there on a visit—Thank goodness Ramsay wasn’t there—the timid soul in person. Mona-seaplane, airplane, M and C sea-jap shooting at own floating pilot-nine dog fights “Blue Goose.” Made sgt. Wheeler No. 3 was hit—wanted volunteers for crew to take it over—yes, I would—Yaeger, Knisley, Mason, McKinney, Jaks, Jaegers, Parks, me-Parks, the only one of the original crew, and McGovern. The place was wrecked—Tyko, Judgill, and Kelly dead—everyone else hurt or scratched up or frightened to death. Lots of work but finally everything in shape—short on water but Battery Wheeler feeds fair-better than cracked wheat-rice and Vienna sausage are delicious. What is the matter with Marviles [Mariveles]? The dry dock is gone—there goes the ammunition ship—Three PTs going out the harbor—The damn japs must have sneaked in and sunk them (the drydock and ammo ship.) Looking through the glasses at the ammo ship when she went up—one big blast and absolutely nothing else—a few smoking embers on the shore and a little oil burning in places where she was—the air blast trying to hit them (our own boats leaving but returned without orders.)

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