Wayne Fowers

Yoeman Third Class

 After sixteen weeks of yeoman school, I was handed orders to report to Treasure Island in San Francisco, assigned to the pre-commissioning detail of the U.S.S. AARON WARD (DM34), under construction at Terminal Island in San Pedro, California. That is where I first met LtCdr Karl F. Neupert who was in charge of the detail as newly-assigned sailors arrived for destroyer training. I was his yeoman, even though only a seaman first class with qualified striker status. I served LtCdr Neupert from then until he was ordered to his own command from the AARON WARD, following her near-destruction on 3 May 1945. I will always remember Mr. Neupert as one of the finest men I have ever known and certainly the smartest. Tears filled my eyes as they did his; he said “goodbye” and left the AARON WARD. 

While aboard, I also became quite close to our Skipper. He was a San Diego native and his wife, children and parents still lived there as did my parents.

I was assigned as talker on the bridge for the Captain during special sea detail as well as during general quarters. My regular underway watches were also on the bridge as talker for the officer-of-the-deck. So whenever anything important was going on I was in the thick of it and pretty much in the know, as I was always on the bridge during such times. When Captain Sanders learned that I also grew up in San Diego and that my parents lived there, he came to know me quite well. He was a unique human being as a naval officer. He took a personal interest in his people, no matter what their rate, rank or status. As a result of his caring, his parents made contact with mine and became valued friends

.

Aboard ship, whenever the Captain or the Executive Officer (Neupert) needed a yeoman to take inspection notes or to keep the log for Captain's Mast, it seemed I was always the lucky one. As a result I became well-acquainted with two very fine but very different naval officers. I shall never forget either of them. Captain Sanders really cared about his men and I believe that it was important to him that they liked him. Sometimes, when underway, we might find it difficult to locate the Skipper, only to find him sitting on the mine tracks on the fantail, shooting the breeze with the mess cooks. He was so human and so unpretentious.

The Exec was different. He seemed to feel the weight of his responsibilities and so came across as tough and unsympathetic. I remember one specific incident where the wife of one of our shipmates was expecting. The Exec turned down his request for leave since we were in the process of shakedown which included all kinds of training which would become critical in the event we were to see action. Many thought this was too tough and uncaring; little did they know, the Exec's wife was due to give birth as well. He didn't consider leave because of his duty to the ship and it's crew.

After the attack of 3 May while tied up to the U.S.S. ZANIAH in Kerama Retto awaiting our fate, I accompanied the Skipper and the senior MinePac officer who came aboard to assess the damage and to determine what should be done. At the conclusion of the inspection, our Skipper was told that the damage was so severe that we would never be able to keep up with a convoy back to the States. All useable gear should be salvaged, the Ship scrapped and the men transferred to other minecraft to replace casualties.

The Skipper rose to the support of his men, "you give me a week, sir, and we'll keep up with any goddam convoy you can put together". The rest is history. With the help of the men from the ZANIAH, repairs were made, non-critical gear was salvaged (including a propeller and shaft, sound gear, etc.) and we completed satisfactory sea trials. A few days later we joined a convoy and ultimately arrived in San Diego. All west coast navy yards were full and we were ordered to the Brooklyn Navy Yard via the Panama canal. After work was commenced on AARON WARD's repairs, the war in Europe ended. The repairs were suspended and we were ordered decommissioned and scrapped. The colors were unceremoniously hauled down exactly eleven months to the day of her proud commissioning.

I was aboard until the very end at which time I was transferred to the Naval Separation Center, Lido Beach, Long Island, N.Y. While the location was great, I hated the work. I was just part of a typing pool. I agitated to get back to sea and was ultimately transferred to the light cruiser, U.S.S. CLEVELAND (CL55) which was at the Charleston Navy Yard in Boston. She had a proud history but was in a state of flux, preparing to take on a graduating class of midshipmen for a training cruise to Bermuda. After picking up the midshipmen at Newport, R.I. and heading out to sea, we ran in to a severe hurricane. The trip that was to have taken 3 or 4 days took more than a week. We lost a float plane over the side and took green water in the ship's office when someone carelessly opened the hatch to the weather deck at the wrong time and just above the office location. We had lashed all typewriters to the deck to protect against them falling off desks. The result: they all ended up under water. We finally arrived in Bermuda and enjoyed great liberty there. The entire ship wreaked of you know what from seasick midshipmen.

After our return to Boston I marked time until I had enough points for discharge in June of 1946. I returned home to San Diego and resumed one of my passions; a job I had while in high school in a fine furniture store. But my real passion, the printing business, finally won out and I returned to it. Meanwhile, now Captain Sanders, had duty at Eleventh Naval District Headquarters where he became friends with the District Intelligence Officer. The Skipper called me one evening and asked me if I would be interested in the active reserve. He indicated that the Intelligence Office was organizing an enlisted component of selected candidates and that he could get me in.

It sounded great, I agreed, and after a year of extensive background investigation of me, I was in. When the Korean war was in full bloom, I was called to active duty. From San Diego, I transferred to the Zone Intelligence Office in downtown Los Angeles where I learned of an opening with a printing press importing company in Los Angeles. The company was well-known to me and their product was one I had become familiar with at my prior job in a San Diego print shop. The challenge was irresistible. I applied, got the job, the war had ended and I was able to get a discharge after two-plus years of additional active service. I joined the company as a mechanic trainee to which job I was never assigned. Instead, since my interest was in sales, I was trained as a demonstrator. After spending about two years on the road as a press demonstrator, traveling throughout northern California and Nevada, Washington, Oregon and Idaho, I was asked to take over a sales territory out of Portland, Oregon. After two years there, in July of 1956, I was transferred to Seattle as Regional Manager..

I was totally wrapped up in my job when on the 4th of July, 1959, I was introduced to Erika. She had come to experience the West after spending a year in New York, having immigrated from Germany. We were married late in September. We adopted our daughter, Heidi, and brought her home four days after her birth in October 1962. Niel, our son, was born to us in April 1964. We were a happy family in Seattle but that ended in 1976 when I was asked to move to the San Francisco area as Assistant to the President. I worked my way through the chairs and became President of the company in 1980. After 32 years, the company was sold and I retired. The company had grown from selling one small press model for a little over $3,000. a copy to a product line consisting of multi-color presses with price tags over $1,000,000. as well as major lines of other equipment for the graphic arts industry.

In retirement,1982, we moved to a small town in California's historic Gold Country. We built a log home on five acres of the Tahoe National Forest.

I shall never forget the friendships and the associations I had with an incredibly diverse group of men that were brought together for a common purpose for which we performed as one. Many close friendships lasted until death and others continue to this very day.