Donald W. Harris
Era: World War II
Military Branch: Coast Guard
Donald W. Harris served iduring World War II in the U.S. Coast Guard.
He served on the Coast Guard cutter Walnut in Hawaii just after the bombing of Pearl Harbor. He was a Chief Pharmacist's Mate.
He was later transferred to Duluth, Minnesota. He was discharged on November 15, 1945.
Source: Excerpts by Mr. Harris (see below); Veterans' Memorial Hall entry (second entry, see below)
Mr. Harris wrote: I was about to graduate from St. Elizabeth’s Hospital in Washington, D.C., when my draft number came up. Male nurses were not recognized as such by the armed forces at that time, although women in my class were granted commissions as officers (sexual discrimination in reverse).
I could get no deferment, but Martha Strayer, a newspaper columnist, heard about it and made an issue out of it. She was, by the way, a good friend of Eleanor Roosevelt. Just think: two women fighting sexual discrimination in the case of a man!! I got my deferment and completed the course. I then joined the Coast Guard as an enlisted man, Pharmacist’s Mate Third Class.
On Nov. 15, 1941, I reported for duty at the Coast Guard Academy at New London, Conn. On Saturday, Dec. 6, 1941, I was invited by another pharmacist's mate to ride with him to Boston the following day. We both had the 7th off, and he was going to meet his parents and his fiancé there at 4 p.m. We got there early in the day, and we had some time to kill, so first we had some lunch, and then we took in a movie. It was a Jane Russell film. I think it was "Stagecoach".
What happened during the next three hours still seems so unreal! When the movie was over and we left the theater, we walked into a world of confusion. Newsboys were shouting, and their headlines screamed "Pearl Harbor Bombed"! We learned right away that all military people were supposed to return to their bases immediately!
Soon after I was assigned to a Coast Guard vessel in Hawaii. After a cross-country trip by train and via ship to the Islands, I arrived not long after the Japanese attack. After arriving in Honolulu I was immediately assigned to the Coast Guard buoy tender Walnut. The Walnut was already a veteran. She had been under fire when she was at Midway Island during the initial Japanese attack. Now she was scheduled to go to Pearl Harbor in just a few days for a complete going over.
I'll never forget the sights that confronted us when we pulled into Pearl Harbor! People in the states hadn't been told how nearly complete the destruction of our fleet had been. Our military authorities didn't want word to get out as to what really had happened, for fear that the Japanese would find out and decide to come back and finish the job. In the meanwhile the islands and our entire West Coast were wide open to attack!
All about our ship, from stem to stern, the welding torches were going full blast. First they welded all of the portholes shut. Then they put in new bunks, three high, in the crew's quarters. We could then sleep a complement of seventy-five rather than just the original twenty-six. They put two depth charge racks on the fantail. Next, there were two three-inch cannon installed, one fore and one aft. As if that weren't enough, they placed four 20-millimeter machine guns topside. When they got through installing radar on top and a little room for sound gear at the very bottom of the ship (for detection of submarines) she was no doubt both the most heavily armed buoy tender and the smallest battleship afloat!
The Walnut also had a sick bay, a compartment on the main deck, and I think it had formerly been used as quarters for chief petty officers. There was a double-deck bunk, with coil springs and real mattresses. Also, there was a closet-size locker, a desk and a wash basin. The best thing about the setup was that I was to have use of the upper bunk, while the lower one was to be reserved for emergency patients. As it turned out, though, that was a drawback, because so many of my shipmates tried to be emergency cases in order to get to sleep in a better bed!
My immediate job was to keep custody of all of the health records and to make sure that inoculations were kept up to date. The necessary serum was kept in a box stored in the galley refrigerator. I would take my patients to and receive instructions from the medical officers who were stationed at a Navy dispensary near to where we tied up when at Honolulu.
As for me, the worst thing about the Walnut was the seasickness I experienced when we were underway. She was a round-bottomed thing, and she pitched and wallowed when the seas were even the least bit rough. Of course, I wasn't busy all of the time at my own work, so when we were underway I was often assigned the job of bridge watch. That meant that I stood just outside the wheelhouse and reported whatever might come into view. I really liked that job because, with the saltwater spray hitting me in the face, I'd never get seasick!
The Walnut was my home for a little more than a year. Although it was rather rugged duty because of the crowded conditions, it was perhaps the best way to see the islands. Of the eight islands which comprise the state of Hawaii, we became familiar with all except two, Niihau and Kahoolawe.
Something I can't forget is the special experience I had in Kauai. One time when we were tied up there I did a little exploring through the wild appearing area near the ship. I came across a banana tree with a large bunch of just beginning to ripen bananas. It didn't look like they belonged to anybody, so I took out my pocket knife and cut them loose. I lugged the bunch back to the ship, and I made space for it in the upper part of my locker. There ensued a "banana open house", and for as long as they lasted the sick bay was a popular place for both officers and men.
The next time we visited Kauai there was a new sign posted on the dock. It read: "Any serviceman caught stealing bananas will be court-martialed. Signed: The Commanding General of the Islands"!
We had been at Maui a number of times, but many of us had never visited the island's main attraction, the inactive crater of Haleakala, one of the largest in the world. One day, when we were anchored off that part of the island, it was announced that a liberty party would be leaving in a small boat to visit the crater. For some reason or other I didn't make it in time, and the others left without me. It didn't look so far to shore, though, so I decided that I could make it on my own. I put on my swim trunks, and I dove in. That's when I learned that distance at sea can be so deceiving!
I swam for a while, but when I looked up it seemed that the shore was every bit as far away as when I started! I looked behind me, and the ship was way back there! I'm not that good a swimmer, and I knew that I was in trouble. I yelled back at the ship "help, I can't make it". If I hadn't been in such desperate straits, what I observed would have seemed almost comical. I could see the ship's silhouette, with figures scurrying about on the top deck and tugging at a long low chest. It turned out that they couldn't find the key to the life preserver locker! I was exhausted, and I was having trouble breathing, when I heard someone yell to me "lie on your back". I remember how hard it was to overcome the panic and do as I was told, but I somehow managed it. I was floating and gasping when one of the fellows swam out to me, wearing one life jacket and carrying one for me. I paddled back to the ship very slowly, and when I got there I had to be pulled on board!
I never did get to Haleakala!
We were fortunate in not having any extremely serious injuries, but two of those that occurred while I was aboard were serious enough. Two different fellows got their hands caught in the pulleys, and each of them lost a finger down to the first knuckle. We were out of port each time it happened, so it was a while before we could get them to the hospital. All I could do in the meanwhile was give them pain shots and apply protective bandages.
Payday aboard ship always divided the crew into three categories: those who lost all their money gambling, those who won, and those who would have nothing to do with gambling in the first place. I went along with the last group. The dice might be rolling most of the night down in the enlisted men's quarters. That wasn't supposed to be going on, but it would have been almost impossible to catch anyone in the act. There was just one steep ladder going down there, and the game was going on behind all of those bunks. Also, there was always someone on guard.
The chief cook usually lost all of his money. He was an old timer, and he had “hash" marks all up and down his sleeve, each stripe representing four years in the service. The big winner always seemed to be Rastus (that was his real name). He was the officers' steward, and he wore a ring with a rock as big as a marble on his finger. He once told me his secret of winning: "All you have to do is have more money than anybody else". It seemed to work for him.
While we were in port we usually had "liberty" every third day, one-third of the crew going each day. Regrettably, the bars were the big attraction, especially for the younger ones. A lot of them hadn't been out from under their parents' supervision very long and didn't know how to handle themselves. Of course, peer pressure played a powerful role. In general the older men seemed to behave themselves better, though. They were more likely to have minds of their own. A lot of them had dependents back home, and they needed their money for more important things.
And then the captain got his orders to return to the states for retirement! When his replacement arrived the crew's morale went way down, because it was obvious that this new one was going to be a real stinker. He even went out of his way to impress us with that fact! As if that weren't enough, the executive officer was leaving, too, and he had been a pretty good sort of a person. He was being replaced by our old chief boatswain's mate, who had just been given a commission. There were so many crew members whom he didn't like and who didn't like him!
Now that it was no longer going to be a happy ship. It didn't seem worthwhile to any longer tolerate that continuous sick feeling in my stomach, so I requested a transfer. I was taking a big chance, because I could have wound up almost any place. There was considerable satisfaction in just asking for the transfer, though. If there's no stated reason for it, the captain can't help but consider it a slap in the face. Although I hadn't known about it, the senior pharmacist's mate at the Hilo Base was being transferred. My request just happened to fit in with the Districts' needs, so Hilo was where I was sent.
I had always liked Hilo. The Walnut had been there numerous times, and it seemed to be a nice-size town, not too crowded with military personnel, either. Hilo, by the way, is located on the island of Hawaii, the largest of the group and therefore known as the Big Island. It is also known as the ranching island because of the large numbers of beef cattle it produces. That is what made the Hilo docks so important. There were large buildings there with cold storage facilities for storing the beef until it could be picked up by refrigerated ships.
I can't remember just how many men were attached to the base, something over 100, I'm sure. It was called the captain of the port detail, and its purpose was to guard the docks and the waterfront area. There was also a string of radio-equipped lookout stations around the circumference of the island. Their job was to keep the main base informed of their observations. Some of them were located in lighthouses that had been shut down for the duration.
The main base was mostly located in what was the U. S. Customs Building. It was a masonry structure near the waterfront, and it provided sufficient space for the office, the radio room and the enlisted men's quarters. The Customs Bureau still reserved space in it, but their work was pretty much reduced by the war. The compound was completed by the construction of temporary buildings to house the mess hall and the washrooms. Also, two other buildings were erected: a supply building and one to serve as officers' quarters. They were all grouped so as to leave an open court in the middle.
The sick bay was located in the corner of the barracks area, and it had two hospital beds. One bed was to be used by me, and the other was for possible emergency use. The other was used by pharmacist’s mate, a fellow with a second class rating. He was a very likable guy, and we got along fine. When I wasn't at the base he would take over the use of my bunk in order that there would be someone on duty at all times."
Donald was discharged Nov. 15, 1945.
