Download (Summer 2008) [World War II]

Volume 1, Number 2
Stanislaus
Historical
Quarterly
Summer 2008
Stanislaus County
Founded 1854
An Independent Publication of Stanislaus County History
What Did You Do in the War Daddy?
Stanislaus County WW II Servicemen
Stanislaus Historical Quarterly
Summer 2008
Women Serving the War Effort
WAVES, SPARS Are Sought for State Battalion
Modesto Bee, April 20, 1943
Four hundred and fifty Northern California women, a battalion of WAVES and SPARS, which will release enough men
to man two destroyers, are sought for immediate enlistment
in the women’s reserves of the Navy and Coast Guard. This
unit will be welcomed into the Navy and Coast Guard at a
mass swearing in
ceremony by
Governor Earl
Warren. Each
city in Northern
California will be
represented in the
group. WAVES
and SPARS will
be ordered to an
indoctrination
school for their
naval training. At
the school, they will learn work, which will enable them to
take over shore jobs now done by men and qualify for ratings
which will pay them $136.50 to $220 a month in salaries.
Applications for enlistment may be made at the Navy recruiting station in the main firehouse at 610 Eleventh Street.
Eleven Recruits Are Sought by WAVES, SPARES
Modesto Bee, May 7, 1943
Mayor Carl W. Shannon today issued a call for 11 women
volunteers for duty in the WAVES or SPARS by next Wednesday. To alert and healthy women, between 20 and 36 years
of age, with a minimum of two years of high school education
and preferably with office experience, the Navy offers professional training at a leading college, good pay, and an opportunity to serve where all of their efforts will be war efforts.
Cover photos: Army and Navy photos
Above: WACS operating teletype equipment
75 Women from This Area Have Joined WACS
Modesto Bee, November 2, 1943
Between now and Pearl Harbor Day (December 7th), the
women’s army corps will seek 30 women from Modesto and
vicinity to join the 75 who have enlisted since May 1942 in
the WACS. The all-states recruiting drive, which seeks a total of 70,000 women to replace U.S. battle casualties, is being conducted here and in other cities by citizen committees.
The Modesto committee is headed by Mayor Carl W. Shannon. The 75 WACS from this area who have joined since the
creation of the corps last year, now are serving at posts in
this country and overseas. Women between the ages of 20
and 49 may join the WACS, and commissions are available
after training to women with sufficient education and business experience. The same insurance and dependency benefits accorded to men in the Army are given to WACS. More
than 150 types of jobs now are open to women to join.
Stanislaus County Emerges As Major Packing Center
Thousands of Workers Prepare Products
Commodities Shipped Out of District Find Their
Way to America’s Allies Throughout the World
Modesto Bee, January 29, 1943
The canneries of Stanislaus County continued in 1942 to be
one of the principal industries in the face of wartime restrictions. In the Modesto district, more than 5,400 persons were
given employment, and the payrolls, while not definitely announced, were estimated to have approached $1.5 million for
the year. One of the greatest changes of the past season was
the increased number of women who have been employed in
the packing houses. Jobs formerly believed the sole province
of men have been filled by women. Food packed in this county
has gone to the four points of the compass. Literally, from
Greenland’s icy mountains to India’s coral shores have gone
products this area processed to meet the call of the United
States and the nations engaged with her in battle to put the ax
to the Axis.
Edited by RLS
Stanislaus Historical Quarterly
Stanislaus Historical Quarterly is published four times a year, featuring freshly researched articles on Stanislaus County
history. Currently, there is no charge per subscription or individual issues, but readers must notify the editor to be placed
on the mailing list. Manuscripts of articles may be submitted to the editor. Ideas for articles or historical information
concerning topics of county history are eagerly sought and may be sent to the editor. Stanislaus Historical Quarterly is
edited, copyrighted, and published by Robert LeRoy Santos, Alley-Cass Publications, 2240 Nordic Way, Turlock, CA,
95382. Tel: 209.634.8218. Email: [email protected]. Ellen Ruth Wine Santos is assistant editor and proofreader.
18
Stanislaus Historical Quarterly
Summer 2008
Our War Stories
Stanislaus County’s Band of Brothers
In Different Services and Combat Roles
T hese accounts of war come from the Modesto Bee during the World War II era. They were selected for their representation of certain types of combat activity and regions
served. Each story is a rewritten version of the news article
to furnish a more precise and readable narrative. Most selections contain quotations from the servicemen to provide their
specific observations of their experiences. This representation is far from complete and certainly unfair to others who
may have had significant combat roles, which went unreported. The Stanislaus County servicemen portrayed in this
issue arrived home alive, some were wounded, but they returned and are honored here. As is said by every returning
combat serviceman, the real heroes are those who were left
behind, dying while serving their country. This issue is dedicated to everyone involved in the war effort, abroad and at
home, who saved the world for democracy, that future generations may enjoy the freedoms fought for and protected on
the battlefields of the world, 1941-1945.
A wounded gunner crawled from his position to another waist
gun, feeding ammunition to it, to assist, but died in his attempt. Huckabee noted that the gun crew shot down 11 enemy fighters, claiming five for himself. Davis ordered the
remaining crew to bail out, as recalled by Huckabee:
The plane was in a spin when I jumped, and I saw it crash in
flames as we floated down. Within 15 minutes after hitting the
ground, we were taken prisoner and moved by an ambulance to
a Catholic hospital, where we were treated for our wounds.
European Theater
Modesto Pilot Is Taken Prisoner after Fortress
Downs Eleven Planes
Modesto Bee, July 16, 1943
Rewritten version: On July 5, 1943, while Lieutenant Albert
E. Davis was piloting a B-17 Flying Fortress on a mission to
bomb the Italian airfield at Comiso, his airplane was attacked
by German and Italian fighter aircraft and struck by antiaircraft fire. Aboard Davis’ B-17 was First Sergeant Allen
Huckabee, who told of their ordeal from his hospital bed in
Ragusa, Italy:
Everything was going fine until we were about ten minutes from
the target, and then we were attacked by swarms of Me 109s
and Macchi 202s, but we kept on and dropped our bombs. As
we were pulling off from the target, more of the enemy kept
coming at us, and ack-ack knocked out our number four engine,
setting it afire. It slowed us up, and we were forced to drop back
from the formation. Ack-ack later hit our number one engine,
and we were losing altitude fast and accompanying wing ships
had to leave us to protect themselves. There we were all alone,
and those 109s and 202s started pouring it on us. We counted at
least 20 enemy planes attacking us.
Within minutes, four crew members and the copilot were killed.
Army photo
B-17 Flying Fortress, similar to the one flown by Albert
E. Davis, Philip M. Algar, and Dan Lionudakis
Hearing that Americans had invaded Sicily, Davis and his
hospitalized crew faked their pain, hoping to remain in Italy.
They were moved to Venice, Italy as POWs. Davis was the
son of Mr. and Mrs. S.A. Davis of Modesto, graduating from
Modesto High School and Modesto Junior College. He joined
the service on December 18, 1941, being awarded his pilot’s
wings at Lubbock Field, Texas on August 5, 1942.
Modesto Pilot Brings Fort Home Safe
after Hard Fight
Modesto Bee, September 27, 1943
Rewritten version: In August 1943, bombing the ball-bearing plant at Schweinfurt, Germany was a high priority in hopes
of severely crippling the German war industry. Modestan,
First Lieutenant Philip M. Algar, piloted a B-17 Flying For-
19
Stanislaus Historical Quarterly
Summer 2008
tress in one of the raids on Schweinfurt. German fighter planes
swarmed the formation, doing massive damage. A 30-caliber
shell tore into the middle of Algar’s Fortress, wounding one
waste gunner seriously. He was wrapped in blankets and given
morphine, hoping to keep him alive until the bomber returned
to England.
German fighters downed the lead Fortress in the formation,
which caused Algar to place his B-17 in the front position,
while the other bombers tightened the formation for defensive purposes. They fought the enemy’s fighters for three
hours, during which a wounded gunner bounced back and
forth inside the fuselage, firing both waist guns, as German
planes were targeted.
Belshaw was assigned to the British 8th Army in Syria, driving an ambulance. In January 1942, while at the battle of
Tobruk, he was taken prisoner, along with 50 New Zealanders,
being classified as a British POW. While at a German field
hospital, he attended to both British and German wounded.
He was transferred to a prison at Mersa Matruh, being placed
in a POW compound with 80 British soldiers. It was a dangerous site, because RAF pilots bombed the area, while the
British Navy shelled it. The POWs were moved by lorries to
Bengazi, becoming Italian prisoners. Most of the POWs were
ill, lacking sufficient medical care, while being retained temporarily in outside holding pens. A prisoner’s daily food ration consisted of a half loaf of half-baked bread, seven ounces
of canned Italian meat, a teaspoon of coffee grounds, and a
teaspoonful of sugar. Belshaw remarked: “No clothing and
blankets were issued to us. We had limited medical attention
and only a pint of water a day for drinking and bathing.”
Shortly after bombing the factory, Algar’s Fortress’ right nose
gun was disabled, and flak damaged the front ball turret gun,
causing the gunner’s oxygen bottle to leak. Algar ordered
him to vacate his position and assume one of the waste guns. The
Fortress now lacked most of its
guns, but fortunately, Algar flew
his bomber to an English airfield
where his men received immediate medical care. While being
lifted out of the aircraft, the seriously wounded gunner said softly
to Algar, “Sir, you did a good job.
Thanks for bringing us home.”
Algar’s navigator summed up the
mission this way: “We believe the
main reason why our crew came
through was because of cooperaArmy photo
tion. Not only did every man do
British soldiers at Tobruk, where Mortimer Belshaw was taken prisoner
his own job, but when he was
called upon, he did any other
tasks which were necessary to bring the aircraft and the crew On September 8th, Belshaw was among 1,600 POWs transhome safely.” After piloting a number of bombing missions, ported to camps at Taranto and then to Alta Mura, where
Algar was promoted to captain. His parents were Mr. and they remained for three weeks. He and an American from
Mrs. Harry P. Algar of Modesto.
Fresno were sent to a more permanent POW camp at
Servigliano, joining 2,000 prisoners from the Royal Canadian
Air Force. Belshaw commented on the conditions at the camp:
Former Modestan Tells of 11 Months
as Axis Prisoner
Modesto Bee, September 2, 1943
Rewritten version: In October 1941, Mortimer Belshaw,
a former Modesto Junior College graduate, enlisted in the
American Field Service (AFS) with 21 other University of
California students. Since the nation was not at war, these
young Americans wanted to join the British in their fight
against Nazi Germany.
20
We were pretty lucky. The Red Cross helped out enormously
with extra rations of food; with books and warm clothing. The
camp had prisoner management, and we got along all right except that food wasn’t too good. We had a camp infirmary, and
men who were really ill, were sent to outside hospitals. We had
with us two British doctors, one British dentist, and two British padres. We didn’t have much access to outside news, but we
were able to keep track of what was going on. For instance, we
were only a few days late in learning about the Tunisian inva-
Stanislaus Historical Quarterly
Summer 2008
sion, and despite the distortions in the Italian papers, we knew
pretty well how the battle was going.
Belshaw was not a Catholic, but the church sent a message
from him to his mother, Grace Belshaw of Modesto. The
pope provided the POWs with Christmas gifts and had the
camp inspected by papal authorities, making sure the prisoners
were treated humanely.
all English were good sports. While assisting in the filming of
the movie “Welcome to Britain,” starring Bob Hope and Burgess Meredith, he stirred the ire of a Westminster Abbey’s
custodian. During the filming, he was busy capturing on celluloid the abbey’s grounds, when told by the custodian that it
On his April 3 rd birthday,
Belshaw learned from the
camp’s loudspeaker that he was
to be part of a prisoner exchange.
He was sent to a POW camp in
Laterian, with another 29 prisoners to be exchanged for Italian
medical personnel. On May 24th,
he was transported to Bari and
Army photo
German V-1 rocket bomb, similar to the ones Audry “Jack” Johnson described
then to Smyrna on June 2nd. It
was at Smyrna, the Red Cross negotiated a prisoner exchange, was undignified to film the sacred terrain. Later, he photoreleasing him on June 2nd. He commented: “It was strange, graphed D-Day landings in Normandy.
being my own boss after 11 months. I hardly knew how to
cope with my own freedom. I kept running up and down the
Modesto Pilot Escapes Death in Raid
street looking for guards who weren’t there.” He was flown
Hurt in Train Wreck
to Cairo, arriving in the U.S. on August 10, 1943.
Modesto Bee, July 8, 1944
Rewritten version: In January 1943, Modestan, Lieutenant
Sergeant Ham of Ceres Does His Shooting
Dan Lionudakis piloted a B-17 in his first and only mission
with a Camera
over Europe. The operation’s objective was to drop incendiModesto Bee, June 20, 1944
ary bombs on war production factories in Brunswick, GerRewritten version: Sergeant Richard Ham of Ceres was many. While cruising in formation, German fighter aircraft
a professional photographer before being drafted by the Army buzzed around them, strafing the bombers during their passes.
in 1942. He continued his professional work in the military, As the flight neared Brunswick, it picked up heavy flak that
serving in the Army’s Pictorial Service. His first assignment damaged two engines in Lionudakis’ aircraft and tore gaping
was photographing the ship convoy he was in, as it sailed to holes in its fuselage. His bomber struggled onward, but even
England. During the North African invasion, he photographed so, his gunners were busy, downing seven German fighters in
the landings and the ships arriving in Algeria.
the aerial combat.
For three months, he assisted the British Royal Engineers in
producing a training film for the upcoming Allied landings in
Italy. During the process, he nearly lost his life, while aboard
a lifeboat with the filming crew. A fierce storm arose, driving
the lifeboat onto a sand bar, which was in the midst of a mine
field. The crew was stranded for over five hours, waiting for
the storm to calm, so the men could push the watercraft back
onto a quieter sea.
Ham had the opportunity of photographing King George and
Queen Elizabeth, while they toured aircraft facilities in England. He noted that the royal pair were “natural and poised”
throughout their public appearance. He found though that not
While approaching the English Channel, the last two engines
on the bomber ceased running, forcing Lionudakis to ditch
the airplane. Coming in for the crash-landing, at 100 knots or
so, he kept the aircraft’s nose up, trying to ease it on top of
the waves, but as it skip-bounced across the water, the B-17
broke apart. The injured crew somehow threw their rubber
rafts onto the sea, while the bomber was submerging. Luckily, a rescue patrol plane saw the stranded crew 15 minutes
later, and within four hours, they were aboard a ship. His
bombing group received the presidential citation for its extraordinary service.
After surviving the spectacular crash-landing, ironically,
21
Stanislaus Historical Quarterly
Summer 2008
Lionudakis was a passenger aboard a train that wrecked a
week later outside London. His legs, right arm, right hip, and
pelvis were fractured. After receiving medical care in England, he was transported to Hammond General Hospital in
Modesto, where his wife was employed, who was the former
Julia Maria Goodrich of Riverbank. Lionudakis exclaimed,
“It’s great to be back!” His parents, Mr. and Mrs. Steve
Lionudakis of Modesto, felt blessed as well.
mission being achieved by being organized and communicating with other units.” They pushed the Germans across the
Merderet River and captured Shef du Pont in heavy fighting.
Modestan Says Robot Bombs
Make “Terrible Racket”
Modesto Bee, August 2, 1944
Rewritten version: Army Staff Sergeant Audry “Jack”
Johnson wrote his parents about Germany’s V-1 rocket, while
serving in England at the Allied Supreme Headquarters:
I have seen them, too many of them. They make a terrible racket
while flying. Perhaps that is one of the fortunate features though,
for one can hear them for miles, and it gives people time to get
out of the way and in a protected spot. I have been sleeping in
a shelter ever since they started and take every measure provided us, which is more than adequate. We have a broadcasting
unit outside where it can be heard all over our camp, and if any
one of the bugs gets near, we are warned in plenty of time. So
you can see, we are actually safer than the British people. One
has to marvel at the way they take things.
Johnson graduated from Modesto High School and Modesto
Junior College. He held a BS degree in business administration from the University of California. He lettered in track at
each of the three institutions. His parents were Mr. and Mrs.
W.H. Johnson of Modesto. His brother, Marc, was an officer
in the Navy.
Paratrooper Officer from Modesto
Invaded Normandy
Modesto Bee, August 19, 1944
Rewritten version: On D-Day of the Normandy Invasion,
Second Lieutenant Anthony Zarakian of Modesto parachuted onto Cotentin Peninsula, as a member of the 82nd Airborne Division. Its mission was to prevent German troops
from occupying the beachheads and to clear a path, allowing
Allied forces to move inland.
Members of his regiment were scattered, landing in swamps,
trees, and along railroad tracks. Once they hit the ground,
they were in immediate combat for the next 34 hours, many
times just by themselves. Zarakian recalled having to wade
through 300 yards of flooded farmland, fighting in fields, which
were sectioned by hedgerows and covered with hay, but his
unit held their ground, without any relief from replacements.
He commented: “Every mission was accomplished and no
ground gained was ever relinquished, with the success of the
22
Army photo
D-Day parachuters, similar to Anthony Zarakian
Legion of Merit Award Is Given Modesto Man
Modesto Bee, September 28, 1944
Rewritten version: For his exceptional meritorious service
as battalion supply officer, during the African, Sicilian, and
Italian campaigns, Captain Gael S. Kauffman of Modesto
received the Legion of Merit. He was attached to General
George Patton’s armored division of the American 3rd Army.
According to the citation:
From September 19, 1942 to November 18, 1943, he displayed
great initiative and ingenuity in securing specialized equipment
for his unit during the Moroccan and Sicilian amphibious operations. . . . From November 12, 1942 to April 27, 1943, while his
battalion was practically detached from the regiment, Lieutenant Kauffman overcame obstacles of limited transportation and
distances as great as 90 miles from his supply line to keep his
organization supplied at all times. He demonstrated notable
versatility in managing the air movement of one company and
transportation of the remainder of the battalion over a foreign
road system in Morocco. Throughout the vigorous Sicilian campaign, Lieutenant Kauffman supplied his battalion substantially
and efficiently, although it advanced 90 miles in 24 hours, having on occasion engaged in mountain combat for four to five
days at a time.
After the Normandy Invasion, while with Patton’s armored
division, Kauffman once again continued to maintain a high
level of efficiency by supplying his unit with needed equipment and materials, through the Moselle Valley on the way to
Berlin. His parents were Mr. and Mrs. J.R. Kauffman of
Modesto, and his wife, Marian Kauffman of Denair.
Stanislaus Historical Quarterly
Summer 2008
Oakdale Pilot Loses Leg Bailing Out Over Channel
enough in which to land, and the majority of us were successful.”
Modesto Bee, October 4, 1944
Rewritten version: On June 12, 1944, Second Lieutenant
Edwin H. Peters of Oakdale was flying his P-47 Thunderbolt near Paris, dive-bombing railroad targets, when he was
attacked by German Messerschmitts. His aircraft was hit on
both wings by a number of 20 mm shells, causing him to seek
low altitude, flying just over the French countryside’s
hedgerows. As he crossed the English Channel, his plane began to disintegrate. He later told his story to a New York
newspaperman at Long Island’s Mitchell Field:
Hollingsworth had been with the Army Air Force, seeing action in North Africa, Sicily, and Italy. He received his glider
training at Twenty-nine Palms, CA. His parents were Mr.
and Mrs. G.O. Hollingsworth of Modesto. He graduated from
Modesto High School, and attended Modesto Junior College
and Cal Poly, majoring in engineering. He joined the Army in
May 1941 and was formerly employed by the California Department of Agriculture as a fruit inspector.
By the time I jettisoned my bombs from the belly rack, both my
radio and my rudder control cable were shot out. There was an
overcast at 3,000 feet. Forty Messerschmitts lobbed into us
from on top. I went into a tight, steep spin, then leveled out, and
hopped hedgerows over France. Finally, I climbed back to 10,000
feet. In sight of the British coast the filler neck of my gas tank
melted and the gas siphoned off. The left wing melted and
snapped off. I started to get out at 10,000 feet, but didn’t make
it until 4,000. The plane was screaming like an air raid siren. As
I fell before opening the parachute, I noticed blood coming past
me. I looked down and saw my left leg was off. I’m not sure
whether the cockpit jerked it off or if it went through the propeller.
After landing on the water, he freed a belt, twisting it tightly
around the leg’s stump, stopping the blood flow. To compound
his troubles, his lifejacket inflated only halfway, causing him
to duck under the waves, while holding tightly to his tourniquet. A British rescue ship spotted his parachute, picking him
up after an hour in the water. He had surgery at a British
hospital, severing his leg just below the knee, at the spot where
an artificial limb could be properly attached. While there, an
English boy with one arm, another war casualty, brought Peters fresh cherries, strawberries, and eggs, plus cakes his
mother baked.
Army photo
P-47 Thunderbolt firing rockets, similar to the one
flown by Edwin H. Peters and Karsell W. Bates
Hughson Soldier Stops German Counter Attack
Modesto Bee, November 9, 1944
Rewritten version: While serving in northern Italy with the
91st Infantry Division, Sergeant David Baptista drove off a
strong German counterattack with only an automatic rifle and
hand grenades. His heroism was reported:
From Mitchell Field, Peters was transported to Bushnell General Hospital at Brigham City, Utah, for further treatment
and recovery. He spent his childhood on an Oakdale ranch
along with his brothers and sisters, being raised by their mother,
Anna Oehrlein. His three brothers also served in the military
overseas.
Baptista and his platoon were holding a small hill when the
enemy attacked with machine guns, mortars, and artillery. Under this all out barrage, the German infantry stormed the hill,
but Baptista remained, firing with everything he had, while his
platoon withdrew to reorganize for another attack. Using up his
rifle ammunition, he resorted to tossing hand grenades. When
the unit relieved him, Baptista was on his last grenade.
Former Modestan Flies Glider to Invasion Coast
Later in battle, Baptista was wounded and received attention
at a military hospital in Italy. He was a graduate of Hughson
High School and was sent to Italy in May 1944.
Modesto Bee, October 14, 1944
Rewritten version: During the Normandy invasion, Flight
Officer Robert G. Hollingsworth of Modesto piloted a glider
transporting troops to a beachhead. He was attached to the
IX Troop Carrier Command. He commented that they met
“very little resistance or confusion. The element of surprise
paid off, for no organized resistance was met, as we landed
on this new beachhead. Our main problem was finding space
Soldier Describes Close Brushes with Death
Modesto Bee, March 8, 1945
Rewritten version: On January 2, 1945, Army Private
Archie Chatterton of Modesto went through more lives
23
Stanislaus Historical Quarterly
Summer 2008
Flier Returns with Silver Star, DFC, 11 Air Medals
than most cats. On the previous day, he was on patrol near
Bitche, France, when he was cut off from American lines.
Modesto Bee, August 8, 1945
He waited until darkness to escape, bedding down in a village Rewritten version: Serving as squadron operations officer
held by American troops. German units surrounded the vil- of the 366th Fighter Group, known as the “Hun Hunters,”
lage, and for the next two days, bombarded it ruthlessly.
Major Karsell W. Bates of Modesto led an attack of P-47
Thunderbolts on a train near Bonn, Germany. They began
Chatterton had a number of close calls, saying he “lost ten their assault at 11,000 feet, diving nearly vertically through an
years.” While occupying a house, a mortar concussion blew opening in a clouded sky. Bates recalled the action:
I started my bomb run, then some character down there on the
out the windows, knocking him down, tearing his clothing with
ground started shooting. He must have been fooled by our speed
glass splinters, which flew everywhere. Metal shrapnel cabecause his bursts were breaking behind us. We were doing 650
reened over his head, striking a Madonna, while sparing baby
miles per hour. I fired a short burst from my guns and silenced
Jesus. In another house, a German soldier threw a grenade
him. Then I released my bombs at 2,500 feet and blacked out.
When I snapped back to consciousness, I was climbing at a rate
through the window, causing Chatterton to dive to the floor
of 400 miles an hour. I looked back and saw both my bombs
for protection. Then the soldier machine-gunned the room
explode on the train. The rest of my flight I bombed at the same
speeds. We scored two direct hits and two near misses. When
they finished their runs, we reformed so that the second flight
could attack. They did. Then we made our rocket passes from
8,000 feet, leveled off and attacked the train broadside. I saw
one of mine lift a flat car from its track, which disappeared. Our
controller confirmed five cars with their contents destroyed.
Army photo
Archie Chatterton faced similar German foes and grenades
while Chatterton lay in the corner. Immediately, three German soldiers entered the shredded chambers, while Bates
played possum. Either they didn’t see him, because of all of
the debris, or they assumed he was dead. He wrote his parents, Mr. and Mrs. W.E. Chatterton of Modesto, giving his
thoughts on war:
Bates’ fighter group was stationed in Belgium with the 9th Air
Force. He flew in 112 missions, downing two German airplanes, destroying a number of trains, tanks, military vehicles,
and strafing enemy troops, while in close support of Allied
troops, during combat in France, Belgium, and Germany. He
flew three different Thunderbolts, all named “Patsy Sharon,”
after his wife Patsy, the former Patricia Caldwell of Modesto,
and daughter, Sharon.
Bates told of a battle that he called the “biggest show.” On
January 1, 1945, the Germans put 1,000 aircraft into the sky.
His squadron of 24 fighters was attacked by 80 enemy fighters. In a 20-minute dogfight, American fighters shot down 43
Many times I have thought it better to be dead than continue enemy planes, while just losing one of their own. It was in
this terrible misery called war. War is not so much shooting and this aerial combat that he downed two fighters himself.
killing as it is suffering nervous torture; the misery of lying out
in the snow all night, not sleeping for days and nights on end,
not eating much, except water and biscuits and maybe a small
can of beans. Yes, Dad, war is an awful mess. I don’t think war
ever solves any country’s problems. It just makes everything
worse than before.
During another operation, his unit placed one of its pilots aboard
a tank to radio the enemy’s position to his squadron members
flying above. His fellow pilots would then dive down and strafe
enemy troops. Bates took his turn riding in a tank, but unfortunately, it was struck by an armor-piercing shell, killing a
He signed his letter: “Your praying hard son, Archie,” giving tank crewmember, but Bates was uninjured. He was awarded
credence to the old adage: “There are no atheists in fox- the Silver Star as described in the citation:
For gallantry in action in the vicinity of Malmedy, Belgium,
holes.” He visited the French Riviera, which reminded him of
with intrepid courage, Major Bates gallantly continued into a
his home in the San Joaquin Valley, with its vineyards, palm
hail of light and heavy antiaircraft fire and dropped his bombs
trees, and Spanish style houses. He was a graduate of Modesto
accurately between two tanks, and the fire from his armament at
pointblank range, destroyed a concentration of armored halftrack
High School and Modesto Junior College.
vehicles. His brilliant leadership, bombing proficiency, and aggressiveness in the face of intense mobile antiaircraft fire, as
well as, the hazard of attack by enemy aircraft was of inesti-
Modesto Captain Leads Attackers on Nazi Train
Modesto Bee, April 7, 1945
24
Stanislaus Historical Quarterly
Summer 2008
mable value to the ground forces at a critical juncture in operations against the enemy.
had escaped, and some of these told us what had happened. The
SS troops poured gasoline on the inmates, locked them in the
barn and then set it afire. When a few of the prisoners sought to
escape, they were shot through the head or bayoneted. These
people had been in hell for the last four or five years. The liberated slaves expressed their gratitude, nearly always saluting
the liberators. It makes you hate every German you see.
Bates also received the Distinguished Flying Cross for “serving as a leader of a formation of P-47s, in which he led to the
target, executing a series of dive-bombing, rocket, and machine gun attacks, the group inflicting heavy losses on the
enemy.” His squadron was issued the Presidential Citation
Fliers Are Saved from Death by Oakdale Soldier
Modesto Bee, June 1, 1945
Rewritten version: In July 1943, Army Surgical Technician
Sergeant Clarence E. Lowry, serving with the 15th Air Force
Service Command in Libya, saved the lives of crewmembers
in a crashed B-24 Liberator bomber. The aircraft crash-landed
on a runway, while returning from a mission, bursting immediately into fire, trapping the injured crewmembers. Lowry
and two other medical technicians arrived in an ambulance,
threw themselves into the intense heat, removing the injured
men from the plane. Just when everyone was clear from the
burning bomber, it exploded, knocking nearly everyone to the
sandy runway.
Army photo
Sherman tank, similar to the one Karsell W. Bates occupied
when it halted a German counterattack at St. Lo, France, on
July 11, 1944.
While flying home after the war, the C-47 troop transport he
occupied lost an engine while flying across the Sahara Desert,
from Casablanca to Dakar. He described the incident: “We
had to dump everything overboard to save the ship, and I lost
$1,000 worth of clothing, which I had to toss out along with
the rest to lighten the ship.” The transport crash-landed at
Dakar, fortunately not injuring its crew and passengers.
Before joining the Army in March 1941, Bates was employed
in the advertising department at the Modesto Bee. He received his commission in June 1942, being deployed to Europe in July 1944. His father was Walter Bates of Modesto.
Ceres Soldier’s Indignation Is Stirred by Atrocities
Modesto Bee, May 11, 1945
Rewritten version: In April 1945, while serving in the American 9th Army, Private First Class Drew Schamahorn of Ceres
was sickened and outraged by the sight of a Nazi atrocity.
His unit found the charred bodies of nearly 1,000 Nazi SS
prisoners in a barn. The brutal murderers had left the scene
48 hours earlier. He wrote:
These prisoners or slaves were of all nationalities. Mostly they
were Russians and Poles. There were piles of bodies near doors.
Smoke still rose from the funeral pyre. The legs and skulls of
some of the victims had been all but burned off. What appeared
to be charcoal, covered some of the cadavers. Twenty persons
Lowry was well-traveled in the military, seeing Australia, India, Egypt, Libya, Tunisia, and Italy. He was the son of Mr.
and Mrs. W.D. Lowry of Oakdale. Before the war, he worked
for a Stockton milk company. His brothers, Roy and Stanley,
also served the in military overseas.
Pacific Theater
Patterson Youth Lost $300 Cash in Carrier Sinking
Modesto Bee, July 8, 1942
Rewritten version: During the Battle of Coral Sea, May 67, 1942, the American aircraft carrier, Lexington, was struck
by a bomb and numerous torpedoes, sinking at 8 p.m. on May
8. William Hoppe of Patterson was aboard the ship and
was fortunately unharmed. The only thing he lost was $300,
because he couldn’t retrieve it from his locker, once the order was given to vacate the ship. He remarked that throughout it all, his shipmates remained orderly, maintained high
morale, while looking forward to their next opportunity to strike
back at the enemy. Hoppe was one of 2,700 Lexington crew
members to evacuate the aircraft carrier. He was comforted
in knowing that the Lexington downed a number of Japanese aircraft and sank an aircraft carrier before ending its
duty. His father was William Hoppe of Patterson, a rancher
and member of the American Legion Post, Elijah B. Hayes.
25
Modesto Youth Is Credited With
Five Japanese Planes
Stanislaus Historical Quarterly
Summer 2008
Modesto Bee, April 1, 1943
Rewritten version: During the early part of the Pacific war,
aerial battles took place near Guadalcanal and the Solomon
Islands, which was where Modestan, Lieutenant Phillip
Souza, saw action flying his F4F Wildcat. He was a natural
fighter pilot, downing a four-engine Japanese bomber, three
Zeros, and a torpedo plane in October 1942, earning the Distinguished Flying Cross (DFC). He also claimed a Zero and a
dive bomber, but those kills weren’t confirmed.
For a time, he was on the aircraft carrier Hornet, along with
two other Modesto fliers, Ensign Jack Kopf and Lieutenant
Robert Weeks. Souza assessed his Japanese foe:
Suicide fighting, magnified in popular accounts, is seldom exhibited, although a pilot if definitely shot down, will attempt to
ram other planes or crash into a ship, as was done in the case of
the Hornet. Generally, they are good persistent fighters, coming
in waves. Always outnumbering their opponent, they will fight
to a finish. They are not yellow, by any manner of means.
naval units, Ensign Souza upon his return to base boldly and
daringly engaged enemy aircraft over our forces, shooting down
a Zero. His courageous actions were in keeping with the highest
traditions in naval service.
Halsey awarded Souza the DFC, stating that the fighter pilot,
“boldly and daringly engaged enemy aircraft.” He received
early pilot training at Modesto Junior College in the CAA
program, along with further training at naval air stations at
Jacksonville, FL and Norfolk, VA. His parents were Mr. and
Mrs. J.M. Souza of Modesto.
Modestan Tells of Navy Torpedo Plane Experience
Modesto Bee, July 8, 1943
Rewritten version: “You can get scared to death in the
morning, come through it, and spend the afternoon reading
and playing cards. It’s what you’ve been trained for and become used to,” commented Aviation Machinist’s Mate Third
Class, Joseph Silva, Jr. of
Modesto. He was the gunner and
navigator occupying the rear seat
of a two-seated torpedo bomber,
seeing most of his action over the
“alley,” which was the natural
shipping channel between New
Georgia and Santa Isabelle islands. For his combat service, he
received a Purple Heart “for
wounds received in action by
shrapnel, while with a torpedo
squadron in the Solomon Islands
Navy photo
area.”
Torpedo dive bombers (TDB), similar to Silva’s aircraft, aboard U.S.S. Enterprise
Silva recalled Guadalcanal:
During an attack on Henderson Field on Guadalcanal, Souza
was in a flight of nine fighters engaging 15 Zeros, in which
they shot down eight of the enemy planes, forcing the others
to turn tail for their home base. In one very serious encounter
with a Zero, he was strafed with nearly 60 shells near his
cockpit, which caused the attacking pilot to think that Souza
was dead, thereby pulling out of the fight, but the Modestan
was alive to fly again and again.
Admiral W.F. Halsey cited Souza for downing a Japanese
fighter plane, with this commentary:
The commander, South Pacific Area and South Pacific force,
takes pleasure in commending Ensign P.E. Souza, United States
Naval Reserve, for service as set forth in the following: For
extraordinary devotion to duty during the aerial engagement
with the Japanese naval forces near the Santa Cruz Islands on
October 26, 1942. After ably escorting and protecting an attack
group of planes, which inflicted heavy damage on Japanese
26
The Japanese were apparently willing to sacrifice any number
of ships and men to land goods on Guadalcanal. It was up to the
American air and naval forces in that area to meet this challenge.
Bad weather and darkness gave the Japanese ships some cover.
It was murderous weather. I was serving as gunner on a torpedo
bomber. We headed up through the squalls and fog patches just
about dusk, with fighter protection of fat barrel Wildcats and
P39s. It got where we could not see the fighters, because of the
overcast. Then about 6:40 o’clock, just off the tip of New
Georgias, we sighted the Japanese ships.
There were 12 Japanese ships, divided into three columns,
coming down the alley. When they spotted the American
planes, the ships began to weave and sent up anti-aircraft
(AA) fire, blackening the sky. Soon, there were Japanese
Zeros on the attack against American fighters and torpedo
bombers. Silva saw two Zeros go down, retelling the incident:
Our 39s and Wildcats shot down 11 of them. We lost one plane,
Stanislaus Historical Quarterly
Summer 2008
but the pilot was saved. The A.A. had us bouncing around
plenty. Ours was the second plane to dive. We released our
bombs quite low, afterwards going right down to the water to
get out of the cone of explosion. The enemy was giving us
everything they had.
San Francisco, who shot the final enemy soldier. Baldwin
heard his radio squawking a short distance away. It was his
company commander trying to locate him.
It was time for his bomber to dive and release its torpedo.
The pilot flew the aircraft through the crossfire and AA, eluding
a destroyer, heading straight for a heavy cruiser, with its Rising Sun flag clearly visible. His torpedo and those from other
bombers struck deadly blows. Silva remarked: “The Rising
Sun looked like a bonfire that night. We saw ship after ship
aflame.”
Modesto Bee, January 20, 1945
Rewritten version: Riverbank sailor, Fireman First Class
Bart Mertino, was aboard a light cruiser off Bonin Island,
600 miles south of Tokyo, during the bombardment of the
island on December 24th. B-24 Liberators bombed the Japanese-held island, while P-38s harangued the enemy with straf-
Riverbank Youth Tells of Attack on Enemy Isle
On their return flight to the base, they encountered dense
fog, and then a gasoline tank malfunctioned, requiring the
pilot to resort to using a hand pump. This caused their plane
to fall out of formation, and soon they were alone. Silva
glanced at the compass, realizing they were heading in the
wrong direction. He commented:
That’s where a course I once took in practical navigation came
in handy. I tried my damnedest to figure the way home. Every
spot looked like an island. If you looked out and tried to find
one, you’d get really balmy. Twice I had to pull myself back
into the cockpit.
Finally, through the clouds, they saw a searchlight from an
American airfield, landing their torpedo bomber safely. Silva
had shot down one Zero, and the pilot dropped two 500 lb.
bombs directly on a Japanese cruiser. His squadron had sunk
four ships, with the loss of just one plane. Silva was given a
medical discharge, and then became employed at an aircraft
plant in southern California. He was the son of Mr. and Mrs.
Joseph Silva of Modesto.
Modestan Jumps into Shell Hole
Meets Six Japanese
Navy photo
Martin L. Jones’ fellow Marines firing artilley on Iwo Jima
ing and other firepower, keeping them away from their large
artillery. Mertino commented on the barrage:
Our targets were coastal guns, buildings, fuel dumps, ships,
planes, anything with the Japanese red circle on it. We pumped
our big shells into their gun positions, and we lobbed over plenty
of five- inch stuff too. It was really something. We plugged at
them for over an hour. We started some fires. . . . We also did
some counter-battery fire; that is, we fired back at some shore
batteries, which revealed themselves by shooting at us. It was
better than a turkey shoot, and we left a lot of Christmas Eve
headaches for the Japanese on the island that day. . . . We raked
their airfields with five-inch fire and poured in plenty of big
stuff, while our spotter kept saying: “Right on – no change – no
change,” which meant we were hitting the target. We worked
over boats, buildings, and gun emplacements. We hit one Japanese plane dead center on the runway, and when the smoke
cleared, the plane was gone. That made our captain pretty happy,
and he passed around a “well done.”
Modesto Bee, November 7, 1944
Rewritten version: Trying to escape a heavy firefight in
the Leyte jungle during the invasion, Lieutenant William
Baldwin of Modesto decided to jump into a shell hole. He
was carrying a radio on his back at the time. To his surprise,
he had landed on top of six Japanese soldiers, camouflaged
with leaves, but they were equally surprised. One enemy
solider reached for his rifle, causing Baldwin to step on his
hand, while another Japanese soldier yanked the radio off
Baldwin’s back. It was at that time Technical Sergeant Pinnelli
of Los Banos peered over the rim of the crater, firing his
tommy gun, killing five of the enemy. Baldwin went to shoot
the sixth Japanese soldier, but the ammo clip from his rifle fell
out. The enemy soldier hurriedly covered himself with the Two days later, the squadron of ships returned to bombard
dead bodies. Three hand grenades were tossed into the hole, Bonin once again, as recalled by Mertino:
During that bombardment we fired on a Japanese escort gunbut he still escaped. Into the hole steps Sergeant McElroy of
27
Stanislaus Historical Quarterly
Summer 2008
boat and another large landing ship near the boat basin. The
gunboat blew up, and the ammunition in the other ship was still
exploding when we went over the horizon. These Nips were
sorry to see this Christian Christmas holiday. . . . After all,
Christmas is a time when you give people presents . . . and this
year our present to you back home was the walloping we handed
the Japanese on that island.
Mertino joined the Navy on February 14, 1943, at the age of
18, being trained in Farragut, ID and San Diego. He saw
action in the Philippine Sea and in the invasions of the Marshall
Islands, Saipan, and Tinian. His brother, Nick, was a Fireman
First Class, as well, and was deployed in the Pacific too.
They were the sons of Mr. and Mrs. Pete Mertino of
Riverbank.
Marine Sergeant Writes of Hard Battle on Iwo
Modesto Bee, March 10, 1945
Rewritten version: Marine Sergeant Martin L. Jones of
Ceres, attached to the 4th Pioneer Battalion of the 4th Marine
Division, characterized the Iwo Jima as “a hell of a mess.”
Jones was wounded by shrapnel and shipped to an Army
hospital, where he was treated for superficial leg wounds.
He noted that the island was pretty cold during the invasion,
about 40 degrees. Not deterred by his wounds, he commented
from his hospital bed: “I sure hope I can get back in my old
outfit if there are any of them left.” He was 22 at the time
and had seen action in the invasions of Roi, Namur, Tinian,
and Saipan. He had attended Jones Grammar School on
Grayson Road and graduated from Turlock High School in
1941. He joined the Marines in late 1943, being trained at
Camp Pendleton and Camp Elliott. His brother was a sergeant in the Army, attached to a combat engineering unit in
the European Theater. They were the sons of Mr. and Mrs.
J.A. Jones of Ceres.
Modestan’s Sub Sinks Ship in
Japanese Home Waters
Modesto Bee, June 2, 1945
Rewritten version: Modestan, Arthur W. Clark, Jr., served
aboard the submarine Tirante that became renowned for its
combat performance. Lt. Commander Edward
L. Beach was a crewmember, who would later
write the novel, Run Silent, Run Deep, which
was made into a movie. The submarine’s first
kill was recounted:
A blunt nosed Japanese freighter serene in the knowledge she was in home waters, churned southward one
day, carrying supplies to the emperor’s troops. Crewmen slouched indolently at the rails. Then there was a
terrific explosion and the vessel disappeared . . . roundfaced, genial young skipper, Lieutenant Commander
George L. Street, III, of Norfolk, Va., turned away from
his periscope and grinned. His submarine had drawn its
first blood.
Street searched for other targets, one time
sending his submarine under Japanese fishing
Navy photo
nets off the coast of Japan. When he surfaced
U.S. submarine Tirante that Arthur W. Clark, Jr. occupied
one morning, he discovered his submarine was
in
the
midst
of
a fleet of Japanese fishing schooners. His
The invasion began on February 19, 1945, with Jones being
crew fired a five-inch shell through a large schooner’s rigwounded by shrapnel on the 21st. He described the action:
ging notifying the vessel that it would be boarded. Tirante’s
They cut loose on us with artillery, mortars, machine guns, and
even ack ack shells. Men kept falling all around me. I was really
crew took on three Japanese fishermen for interrogation. The
scared. They were really good with those damn mortars, and
submarine continued to track enemy vessels, sinking them in
they could shoot them anywhere. They held the advantage as
order, amassing an astounding record of destruction in its first
they were on high ground and could see every movement we
cruise.
made. . . . We hadn’t been on the beach five minutes when three
of them came from behind a big sand pile with grenades in their
hands. One of them somehow didn’t like my looks, so he threw
a grenade at me as he yelled “banzai.” I was so excited I forgot all
about the grenade and let him have about six slugs – and he went
down. Then I looked around and saw the grenade, and I ran like
hell – but it never did go off. Thank God!
28
The submarine came across a downed Japanese plane, with
three disconsolate Japanese fliers sitting on its wing. Still having the Japanese fishermen aboard the sub, one of them
shouted to the aircrew in Japanese that they were being rescued. When the submarine came alongside the floating aircraft, the pilot threw a flare on the submarine’s deck, prompt-
Stanislaus Historical Quarterly
Summer 2008
graduate of Oakdale High School and attended Modesto Junior College before entering the Navy in June 1943. He was
the son of Mr. and Mrs. J.T. Winkle of Riverbank.
ing Lt. Commander Beach to “part his hair with a rifle shot.”
The Japanese pilot played dead, but his ploy was discovered
while being hauled aboard. One of the fliers drowned himself
purposely, but the remaining enemy airman conceded to be
rescued. Beach then peppered the plane with rifle fire, being
the first person to sink an airplane from a submarine deck
with a rifle.
“City of Modesto” Fortress Sets Many Records
Modesto Bee, October 4, 1945
Rewritten version: Captain James Brian Douglass named
his B-29 Superfortress “City of Modesto,” after his home
town. It set a record 29 straight bombing missions, without
breaking from formation or failing to drop its bombs. Douglass
took his aircraft in raids over Japan in flights of 200, 300, 400,
500, and 600 Superfortresses. The “City of Modesto” would
Riverbank Torpedoman Tells of
Suicide Attack on Ship
Modesto Bee, July 9, 1945
Rewritten version: As crew member of the Navy destroyer,
Hazelwood, Torpedoman Third Class Wilburn
Winkle of Riverbank told of the kamikaze attack
off Okinawa that killed 77 shipmates. It occurred
on April 29, 1945:
It was just about 6 p.m., and near sunset, when we
first picked up three planes on our listening devices.
We had been in a screening position, protecting carriers, when a suicide pilot hit another destroyer, and
we were going to her aid when our attack came. We
shot down one plane about two miles away, and the
second came in afire, just barely missed the No. 4
gun, where I was stationed. . . . I think he would
have had us if he had his wheels down. We could feel
the heat of the burning plane. We were shooting at
him but could not hit him. The pilot evidently was
dead, or he could easily have dipped and hit us. He
crashed into the ocean about 50 feet away but did
not damage our ship. We began to search for the
third plane but did not see it. Just as we were making a
hard right turn, he came sneaking in over the fantail at
about 10 feet altitude and crashed into the No. 2 stack and
exploded on the deck just about amidships, some 50 feet from
my gun position. The fire from the explosion divided the ship
into two parts, and I was on the aft or rear. Some fellows around
me were wounded by shrapnel, but I didn’t get a scratch. We
later decided the third pilot was lurking in one of the two clouds
in the sky. After the crash our power was out, and we couldn’t
man our guns, so we retired to the fantail where an officer gave
the order to abandon ship. I spent about an hour and a half or
two hours in the water before being picked up by another destroyer. I just swam around and relied on my life belt to keep me
afloat until help came. We threw powder cans overboard, so
wounded men could cling to them for support.
Army photo
B-29 Superfortress, similar to the “City of Modesto”
While in the water, Winkle helped two shipmates to keep
afloat. One was wounded, and the other was not a good swimmer. Hazelwood actually survived and returned to Mare Island Navy Yard for repairs. Winkle noted that the suicide
planes were poorly constructed, covered with oil cloth, and
held together by wire. It was his opinion that the kamikaze
attacks were to kill as many sailors as possible, while sinking
any size ship. He said his ship sank two Japanese destroyers,
while it was returning from a Tokyo raid. Winkle had seen
action in the invasions of Iwo Jima and Okinawa. He was a
29
have 35 bombing missions, which included runs on Tokyo,
Nagoya, Kobe, Osaka, Yokohama, and Kyoto. The bomber
was declared “war weary,” being retired from combat duty.
Its machine gunners were credited with shooting down six
Japanese fighter planes.
Crew member, Lt. Colonel George W. Taylor, described one
lethal attack by the “City of Modesto” on Tokyo:
On March 9th, the Super Forts of three wings of the 21st Bomber
Command were on their way to Tokyo. It was a good night.
From the moment the lead airplanes came over the target the
mission was highly dramatic. The Japanese homeland was hidden under a perfect blackout. Suddenly, off a little to the right,
there was an oblong of yellow flame. Japanese searchlights
combed the sky at the expected altitudes – 25,000 to 30,000
feet. The first two airplanes dropped their bombs from a perfect blazing X. Two hundred and twenty-seven B29s followed
to spread that X into one of the greatest fires in history. The
first incendiary bombs had been dropped on Tokyo.
Douglass was the son of Dr. and Mrs. Aubrey A. Douglass
of Modesto. His father was superintendent of Modesto City
Schools during his son’s piloting exploits over Japan.
Stanislaus Historical Quarterly
Summer 2008
Youth, Prisoner of Japanese Two Years, Returns
slept on thin strawmats and ate gruel of pumpkin greens and
carrot tops, plus rice and barley. Forty-four Marines and Navy
Modesto Bee, October 25, 1945
Rewritten version: On April 22, 1943, Modestan, men were liberated at Sumidagawa, flown home, becoming
Electrician’s Mate First Class Richard Hinkson, was taken immediate patients at a Navy hospital. Hinkson was the son
prisoner by the Japanese. He was aboard the submarine, of Mr. and Mrs. R.L. Hinkson of Modesto.
Grenadier, which was on duty in the Indian Ocean, when it
was scuttled by its skipper, Lt. Commander J.A. Fitzgerald, Modestan, Killer of 39 Japanese, Returning Home
Modesto Bee, November 26, 1945
to avoid being taken by the Japanese. The entire crew was
taken captive and considered missing in action for the dura- Rewritten version: Modestan, Staff Sergeant Clarence
Teller, was officially credited with killing 39 Japanese soltion of the war.
diers, while being wounded four different
times, during 44 months of combat in the
Pacific. In December 1942, he was
wounded in the leg by a Japanese rifleman
on Buna. He received another rifle wound
in the fall of 1943, during combat on Sador.
He was wounded by a mortar shell in December 1944, during action in Ormoc Valley on Luzon. His final wound came from
shrapnel of his own grenade that landed
near him. He carried a submachine gun
during most of his combat, being a platoon
leader, seeing hand-to-hand fighting. His
outfit once spent 43 consecutive days fighting on a hill, where his unit killed 157 Japanese soldiers. He was awarded the Purple
Heart, with three Oak Leaf Clusters; Presidential Unit Citation, with two Oak Leaf
Clusters;
Combat Infantryman’s Badge; and
Navy photo
Japanese POW camp Sumidagawa, where Richard Hinkson resided
seven campaign ribbons for battles in New
Guinea, Buna, and the Philippines. He was
For over two years, Hinkson and his shipmates worked as discharged after 49 months of military service. He was the
slaves in copper mines, some 2,000 feet below ground. They son of Mr. and Mrs. A. Gardner of Modesto.
Article by Robert LeRoy Santos
History of My Activities during World War II
I
by Jean T. Smith
had been working at the Claremont Hotel in Berkeley,
when I was drafted into the Army in September 1941. The
Army sent me to Camp Callan near San Diego, where I received basic training and instruction concerning coastal artillery. On December 7th, I finished training and was stationed
on the cliffs near Torrey Pines golf course, operating coastal
artillery. I was assigned next to an anti-aircraft battalion going overseas. We had some brief training at Camp Irwin. I
was assigned to a searchlight company and shipped to Hawaii, where we set up our searchlights and radar in an area
that covered one-fourth of Oahu. In the middle of 1942, I
suffered major burns from a gasoline fire and was hospitalized for four months. Returning to duty, I was assigned to a
30
radar and searchlight unit in the middle of Oahu. In the spring
1943, our battalion went to the Gilbert Islands and set up a
radar site on the island of Apemama, 60 miles from Tarawa.
In spring 1944, we returned to Hawaii. In August, I was
diagnosed as having filariasis, a disease affecting the lymph
glands. I was sent to Queens Hospital in Honolulu and then
to De Witt Hospital in Auburn, CA. Having recovered, I reported to Fort Bliss in Texas to teach at an anti-aircraft school
and to do experimental radar work. I traveled to Camp Stewart,
GA, to demonstrate anti-aircraft equipment and technology
to West Point graduates. In May 1945, I returned to Fort
Bliss and was discharged in October. Bette Belle Anderson
and I were married at the Ft. Bliss chapel on May 4, 1945.
Stanislaus Historical Quarterly
Summer 2008
Riverbank Aluminum Plant of World War II
Providing Material for the Nation’s Warplanes
nce again, the country was forced to enter a world war,
O
this time by an attack on Pearl Harbor. It was a frantic time
that called for urgent measures, forcing the nation to go on a
war-footing in its industries. Military aircraft would be the
backbone of the nation’s fighting force, causing the establishment of numerous factories producing aircraft materials. Light
weight aluminum was the fabric used throughout all aircraft,
making aluminum production crucial to the war effort. There
were aluminum plants in the East, which led to the necessity
of having such a facility on the West Coast, where numerous
aircraft assembly plants were already located.
The vast Central Valley would be the home of a number of
new military facilities, necessary to the prosecution of the
war. Stanislaus County would have two auxiliary naval air
stations, an Army hospital, an Army rehabilitation center, a
manufacturer of incendiary bombs, and an aluminum manufacturing facility.
Word of a New Plant
The first public notice of interest in building “an ordnance or
munitions plant near Modesto or Riverbank” appeared in the
Modesto Bee on February 26, 1942. It came from an odd
source. San Francisco’s assistant city attorney, Dion Holm,
along with other city officials, had been in contact with the
federal government in Washington, D.C., wanting to sell electricity to the burgeoning war industry. J.A. Krug, chief of the
War Production Board’s (WPB) power division, had commented to Holm that a munitions plant was being considered
for the Modesto area that would need ample amounts of electricity. Lines from San Francisco’s Hetch Hetchy power source
crossed Stanislaus County on its way to the Bay Area. At
that time, San Francisco was selling electricity at wholesale
prices to Pacific Gas & Electric (PG&E), then a private utility, which was in violation of the law. San Francisco was
receiving $2.4 million a year from the utility for 83,000 kilowatts of power coming from its Hetch Hetchy power plants
at Early Intake and Moccasin Creek.
In 1913, the U.S. Supreme Court upheld the Raker Act of
1912, which stated that power produced on federal land could
not be sold to a private utility. San Francisco was defying that
ruling and was given by the federal courts until July 1942 to
find a public consumer for its electricity. The city wanted to
buy PG&E, but San Francisco voters rejected such a pur-
31
chase in nine different elections; thus, the city was anxiously
seeking another buyer for its electricity, now turning to the
federal government, a public consumer. It contacted WPB
and Interior Secretary Harold Ickes, with the hopes of selling
electrical power to the Defense Plant Corporation (DPC).
On March 14, 1942, word was received in Modesto that the
WPB approved the location of an aluminum production plant
in the Central Valley. It was said that a plant near Modesto or
Riverbank was being considered. Not only was there access
to Hetch Hetchy power lines locally, there were major railroad systems nearby.
On March 23rd, local congressman, B.W. Gearhart, announced
that WPB approved the location of an aluminum plant near
Modesto, which would receive financing from the Reconstruction Finance Corporation (RFC) and owned by the DPC.
A representative from DPC visited the Riverbank area to
evaluate local sites. It was calculated that the aluminum plant
under consideration would need 100,000 kilowatts of power
when in full production. San Francisco could provide 83,000
kilowatts, and the rest would be purchased from the irrigation
districts.
The Aluminum Plant Is Planned
On March 25th, Gearhart received further information concerning the aluminum plant. WPB wanted the facility to produce 100 million lbs. of aluminum a year, which would be
one-fourth of the nation’s aluminum production in 1940. The
new plant would cost $12 million to construct and equip, requiring 600 employees when in full production. Studies were
done in the area to determine manpower supply, housing needs,
and transportation availability.
Aluminum Company of America (ALCOA) was contracted
by the government to operate the aluminum plant for the duration of the war. Company engineers had been involved in
the selection of a site, originally considering three locations in
the Riverbank-Oakdale area. DPC’s engineer, Clifton H.
Chadwick, made the final decision after visiting the area. On
May 12th, Gearhart disclosed that DPC had selected a 320acre Riverbank site for the aluminum plant. It was located at
the northeast corner of Claribel and Claus roads. Deeds were
sent to RFC’s San Francisco office to purchase the land. On
May 30th, DPC signed a contract with San Francisco to pur-
Stanislaus Historical Quarterly
Summer 2008
chase 83,000 kilowatts of power for $2.4 million annually. In
July, the new plant manager, Howard W. Frye, arrived in
Modesto from the Pacific coast division of ALCOA.
Construction of the facility cost $4 million, involving several
hundred workers. Cahill Brothers of San Francisco was given
the contract to lay the plant’s foundation, with construction
tion of gasoline and rubber tires. The Federal Housing Administration (FHA) could not help, because its funds were
spent on permanent residences. Private construction companies weren’t interested, not seeing profits in marketing temporary houses. Oakdale discussed the installation of a trailer
camp at the northern edge of town, on the backside of the
Almonda camp grounds. This was a two-block area, owned
Web photo
Today’s Riverbank Industrial Complex, formerly Riverbank Aluminum Plant and Riverbank Army Ammunition Plant
beginning July 10th, employing at nearly 200 workers, who
were mostly from the Bay Area. The plant’s buildings were
constructed in brick, cement, and steel, which by government
standards was considered to be a permanent facility, an important fact for the postwar era. The facility would be built in
three units, with the first unit ready for aluminum production
on February 1, 1943. Westinghouse Electric Company was
contracted to manufacture the motors and other electrical
equipment.
In August 1942, the federal government found that copper
was in short supply, which was a key metal in the transmission of electricity. Permission was given to borrow silver from
the U.S. Treasury to substitute for copper in war production,
with the stipulation that the silver would be returned when
the war ended; therefore, the aluminum plant used silver in
its electrical components, and Westinghouse did the same for
its large electrical devices it was making for the facility.
Concerns about Local Housing and Transportation
There was local concern about housing the workers expected
at the aluminum plant, especially in Riverbank and Oakdale.
On July 8, 1942, the Oakdale Leader urged local residents
to rent spare rooms to the visiting construction workers. In
August, a citizens committee for housing was formed in
Riverbank, with the purpose of convincing the federal government to build governmental public residences, since the
aluminum plant was a federal project. The committee argued
that such housing near the plant would help in the conserva-
32
by Santa Fe Railroad. State health authorities cautioned that
such a facility had to have lavatories, sewers, laundries, and
bathing facilities.
In mid-December, the National Housing Agency announced
that it had approved construction in Riverbank of 150 dwelling units and a community facility through its defense housing
program. Riverbank Housing Authority was constituted and
provided with construction plans. Each dwelling would have
2,100 sq. ft., 21 ft. wide and 100 ft. long, containing four
rooms. Modesto architect, Russell G. DeLappe, was contracted to design the 3,500 sq. ft. community facility, which
would be an L-shaped structure, having a craft room, kitchen,
store room, lobby, furnace room, two offices, community
meeting room, maintenance room, and paint shop. Construction began in January 1943, and as residences were completed, they were rented and occupied.
Concerning the issue of worker’s transportation to the aluminum plant, it was government policy to give priority in gasoline and tires to an automobile that carpooled three or more
workers. Willis M. Kleinenbroich of Modesto operated the
Modesto-Riverbank-Oakdale Stage Line, a sanctioned public transportation business. His stages carried passengers, baggage, and express packages, with fares for round trips from
Modesto to the Riverbank plant costing $7.50 monthly, Oakdale
$7, and Riverbank $5.
In May 1943, Oakdale opened its trailer camp. It was located
Stanislaus Historical Quarterly
Summer 2008
at East Railroad Avenue and Fourth Street, once leased by
the Oakdale Garden Club. The campsite had some 30 oak
trees and would accommodate 100 trailers. Water, electricity, gas, and sewage hookups were present. Floyd Edwards
was the manager, who also managed another trailer camp in
Oakdale.
Manufacturing Aluminum
American aluminum industry, similar to all American industries on war-footing, sprang to life, soon out-producing the
world. The president of ALCOA, Roy Hunt, declared that
his company’s output for 1942 was already greater than Nazi
Europe and eight times more than Japan. ALCOA’s overall
productivity, in fact, was 63% higher than the entire world
together, with its 1943 production projected at two billion lbs.
of quality aluminum. Just one of ALCOA’s sheet mills was
turning out more high strength alloy in one month than the
entire nation had produced in one year. Also, the mills were
rolling out a finished product 50 times quicker than before the
war. A lighter aluminum alloy for aircraft engines had been
developed, reducing the weight of a B-17 Flying Fortress,
allowing it to carry more payload and fly greater distances.
To manufacture aluminum, an electrolytic process, known as
electroplating, was used. At the Riverbank plant, electroplating occurred in a series of “pot rooms,” utilizing direct current (DC) electricity. Enormous transformers at the plant
converted Hetch Hetchy alternating current (AC) into DC.
A refined clay, alumina, was shipped to the facility, which
was reduced in the electroplating process to aluminum. Railroad cars delivered alumina, with conveyors carrying the
material to outside storage tanks until it was needed. The
mineral, cryolite, which was imported from Greenland, was
used as a solvent in the process as well. From the pots, molten aluminum was poured into casts, where nonmetallic impurities were removed, with the pure metal being drained into
iron molds, forming ingots. Sheets of aluminum would be produced from the aluminum ingots.
Plant Production Begins
On April 20, 1943, W.N. Farquhar replaced plant manager,
D.H. Tilson, who had operated the facility for awhile. Farquhar
came from a Washington ALCOA plant, with Tilson moving
to ALCOA’s St. Louis facility. On May 8th, ALCOA ran this
advertisement in the Modesto Bee:
Aluminum Needed for the War Now -A Peacetime Necessity
Immediate Openings - For Steady and Permanent Jobs
Unskilled Men Satisfactory -Training Program Under Way
Training Rate 85 Cents per Hour - 48 Hours per Week
Time One-Half Over 40 Hours -Rapid Advancement
After a Short Training Period,
Considerably Higher Wages Will Be Earned
Get in on the Ground Floor of a New Vital War Plant
Apply Employment Dept. -Aluminum Co. of America
Riverbank, Calif. - Phone 150-Y-1
Farquhar, hired 200 employees to operate the plant’s first
unit, which was 40% of full production. The weekly payroll
was $10,000 for this initial workforce. The facility opened
midnight on May 18th, with nearly all of the employees coming from the region, with a few specialists hired elsewhere.
All employees received extensive training, because of the
complex technology and the dangers encountered when producing aluminum.
Farquhar told the
Modesto Bee that
“Everything went
off without a hitch,
even better than we
expected.” When
asked about opening ceremonies, he
replied, “We are too
busy. This is all business for things like
that.” A month later,
Harvey Blair, 24, of
Riverbank, was
savagely burned
when scalded by
escaping steam
from a boiler. The
safety plug blew,
burning 75% of his
Webphoto
body. He was rushed
Aerial
view
of
today’s
Riverbank
Industo the hospital, was
trial Complex, formerly Riverbank Alurevived and treated.
minum Plant and Riverbank Army AmIn August, the plant’s munition Plant
second unit began
operation, requiring 120 additional men. The third unit was
ready in the fall, employing another 100 workers.
The plant was fully staffed in September, prompting the National Labor Relations Board to call for a collective bargaining election. Employees had two unions from which to select:
Stanislaus County Central Labor Council (AFL) and the
Warehousemen’s Union (CIO). They could also choose not
to have a union, but CIO was the victor.
Complaints of Pollution
Complaints concerning air pollution from the plant became
public on August 21st, when the Modesto Bee reported that a
dozen ranchers declared that livestock and crop damage was
33
Stanislaus Historical Quarterly
Summer 2008
occurring downwind from the facility. Blame was placed on
the dust particles emitted into the air by the plant. One dairyman commented that his cows’ butterfat production fell 50%.
Another rancher reported that his apricot trees had defoliated. These complaints were sent to the aluminum plant, with
Farquhar assuring the public that the matter was “being carefully investigated.”
In the meantime, a contract to erect public housing in
Riverbank was granted to Matthew A. Little, a San Francisco contractor, with a winning bid of $85,000. The company
built 40 temporary dwelling units and 24 dormitory sections
for the Federal Public Housing Authority (FPHA). On August 26th, the Riverbank City Council and city school officials
met with Fred D. Prakel, regional tax analyst for FPHA, to
discuss budgetary problems. Riverbank representatives expressed to Prakel that the city did not have money to fund the
additional expenses incurred by the housing project, such as,
law enforcement, school needs, and sewer expenditures.
Prakel assured those present that FPHA would contribute its
share through city and county taxes, as required for any resident.
On September 28th, Claus-Riverbank Farm Bureau met at
the Dry Creek Clubhouse to discuss the pollution issue. Evidence of destruction to livestock and crops was presented by
area ranchers. It was decided to contact Stanislaus County
Board of Supervisors, requesting immediate testing of the
dust and fumes emitted into the air by the aluminum plant. In
response, county supervisors ordered county health and agricultural officials to make “a full and complete investigation of
the damage to trees, crops and other vegetation, livestock,
and health.”
The investigation was completed, with a full report filed with
the county supervisors by Milo M. Schrock, agricultural commissioner; J. Lyle Spelmann, county health officer; C.M.
Steiger, county livestock inspector; and Mark Odell, county
sanitary inspector, which read in part:
In the course of our survey, dust was found in quite large amounts
on plants and very small concentrations of fluorine were found
in samples of water collected from the survey area. Both subjective and objective evidence indicates that damage to livestock in
this area has taken place, and this damage may be due to fluorine
content of the dust given off. . . . It would seem that the greater
damage at present is to livestock in the immediate vicinity of the
plant and in the areas in which the dust is carried by the prevailing winds. This will undoubtedly be influenced by seasonal
wind changes, and the damage may, in large part, be dissipated
during the rainy season. At present, there is no definite indication of hazard to human beings.
The investigators added that monitoring should continue, urg-
ing federal government involvement. Aluminum plant officials
promised to do everything possible to curb the pollution. Monitoring continued, with some of the local ranchers receiving
monetary settlement from DPC for the damage done to their
crops and livestock.
Plant to Close
On January 1, 1944, the Modesto Bee reported that the
Riverbank aluminum plant was among plants in New York
and New Jersey ordered by the WPB to stop production,
because of a significant aluminum surplus of some 700 million lbs. According to Missouri senator, Harry Truman, of the
Senate’s War Investigating Committee, $8 billion in military
contracts had to be canceled because of surpluses. On January 14th, the new Riverbank plant manager, R.B. Weaver,
indicated that he had not heard of a shutdown, but the facility
had indeed closed some of its production lines as part of a
slowdown.
Concern was voiced locally over loss of revenue to the region. The Modesto Chamber of Commerce was the first to
go on record requesting the federal government to keep the
aluminum plant operating, stating:
The factors favoring continuation of this plant are: (1)
Hydrogenerated electric power is used at this plant, so there is
no consumption of vital natural resources, such as, oil and coals;
(2) local residents are employed; hence, there is no manpower
problem. This is not a critical labor area; (3) Information available indicates that the cost of production is close to the average
costs at other plants; (4) the product of this plant is of high
quality; (5) no greater demand is made on transportation facilities by this plant than at other plants in the nation. The closing
of the plant would be a serious economic loss to this community.
Donald M. Nelson, chairman of the WPB, informed Congressman Gearhart that it was his desire to keep the Riverbank
plant operating, because he considered the aluminum industry a promising one in the postwar era. Nelson noted that his
department was continuing to study plant emissions in its quest
to eliminate damage to livestock and crops. The Modesto
Bee reported on July 26th that Robert C. McCandless had
filed a $22,100 suit against the plant for damages done. He
owned a 54-acre ranch, a mile south of the plant. By this
time, more than 40 such suits had been filed against the government by local ranchers, which amounted to $500,000 in
restitution, with $90,000 already paid out.
It was the government’s turn to file a lawsuit of its own. In
June, DPC sued to recover $69,690 in 1943 taxes, paid under
protest, to Stanislaus County, Riverbank School District, and
Riverbank Fire Department District. The plant’s land was
assessed at $20,720 and improvements at $2,105,500. The
34
Stanislaus Historical Quarterly
Summer 2008
government’s argument was that “personal property” belonging to the federal government, such as transformers, furnaces,
and rectifiers, could not be taxed according to federal law.
DPC asked that the county’s assessment be reduced by
$1,377,568 for items that were clearly personal property of
the government.
Too Much Aluminum
Bad news came to the community on August 3rd, when Congressman Gearhart learned that the plant was to close immediately. He commented in the Modesto Bee:
If the plant is closed, it will be due directly to aluminum overproduction, the fruit of a boondoggling project, which without
the consent or knowledge of congress, has set up competition
for American businessmen outside American borders, with the
money of American taxpayers . . . from a contract entered into
by WPB and its Small Plant Corporation, with the Aluminum
Corporation of Canada, for purchase of Alcoa’s entire aluminum production, at 11 cents a pound above the American market price and its construction with American money of a
$500,000,000 aluminum plant project near Quebec.
which meant it would be manned by a skeleton crew, using
only 400 kilowatts of power. San Francisco was upset with
this development, because it would lose $2.4 million from DPC
for Hetch Hetchy power. Federal judge Michael Roche and
Interior Secretary Ickes were contacted concerning the city’s
contract with DPC, charging contract violation.
Ickes explained that the Riverbank plant was closed because
of its remoteness to high grade aluminum clays. California
aluminum clays were of a lower grade. He felt that within
time, there would be better technology to utilize the lower
grade ore more fully. Official reasons for closing the Riverbank
plant were reported by the Associated Press:
1. Existence of an excess supply of aluminum.
2. The War Manpower Commission feels the plant’s workers
could be better utilized in that area, considered a critical
labor region.
3. Alleged damages to surrounding vegetation from poisonous
dust and gases from the plant had resulted in filing of many
damage suits against the government.
The Chemurgic Corporation in Turlock, a plant that assembled
incendiary bombs, curtailed its production too. In fact, nearly
50 wartime factories and sites in California were closed and
earmarked for sale. It wasn’t known if the aluminum plant
would be sold as war surplus. The site was sizeable with its
330 acres, 24 buildings, and an immense amount of machinery and equipment. The U.S. Justice Department declared
that ALCOA could not purchase the closed Riverbank plant
or the closed eastern plants, because the corporation would
be considered a monopoly. On October 3 rd, President
Roosevelt reluctantly signed a law, requiring the Surplus War
Property Administration to seek congress’ approval before
selling plants that were worth more than $5 million. In November, equipment and materials from the aluminum plant
were auctioned off, such as, rubber boots, electric torches,
hand tools, and electric motors.
National Archives photo
Rosie the Riveter, fastening an aluminum sheet during
He further commented that the Quebec installation included
the erection of a hydroelectric power plant, with machinery.
He blamed the Quebec plant’s production for the overproduction of aluminum, since it was supplying 3.7 billion lbs. of
aluminum a year. Gearhart was livid over the use of American taxpayer’s money to damage the American aluminum
industry. He planned to introduce legislation, requesting the
dismantling of the Quebec plant. He was disappointed about
the announced closure of the Riverbank plant, because he
had received full assurance from WPB’s Nelson that it would
remain open.
The plant ended operation the first week of August, after just
15 months of production, being placed in “standby condition,”
On January 9, 1945, Congressman Gearhart announced that
the Riverbank aluminum plant was to reopen partially in May
to manufacture military fuses. The manufacturing company
was the Production Engineering Company of Berkeley, with
a government contract of $4.5 million, employing 400 to 500
workers, of which two-thirds would be women. Machinery
for the fuse project was received at the plant and 50 employees began working on the project, but news was received on
May 3rd that the contract was cancelled, because the war in
Europe was over.
On January 29, 1945, the Congress of Industrial Organizations (CIO) claimed that ALCOA closed down its aluminum
plants too soon in its haste to reorganize for the postwar era.
35
Stanislaus Historical Quarterly
CIO president, Philip Murray, declared that there was “a critical
shortage of aluminum sheet for warplane construction.” He
stated further that an “unbelievable series of errors and misjudgments by high ranking officials in the WPB and other
government agencies” led to the current aluminum shortage.
His complaint fell on mute ears.
In February, RFC in San Francisco announced that the
Riverbank plant would be one of 80 plants in the nation selected to store and sell surplus equipment and materials, but
on September 28, 1945, the government declared that the
Riverbank plant would be sold as surplus property, as would
60 other governmental facilities in California and 950 nationwide; however, the Riverbank plant instead underwent a series of intergovernmental transfers, ending up with the Army
as its keeper on June 1, 1951.
Army Ammunition Plant
The Korean War brought life to the old plant. Norris
Thermador Corporation was given a contract to produce steel
cartridge cases for Army and Navy munitions. The plant began production on September 17, 1952, ending in 1954. The
facility became known as the Riverbank Army Ammunition
Plant, and occasionally, as the Riverbank Ordnance Plant.
In 1966, production was reactivated for the Vietnam War,
with Norris Thermador manufacturing 105 mm, 60 mm, and
81 mm casings, stopping production in 1975. From 1975 until
1994, short-term manufacturing took place under military
contracts. In 1994, the facility was deactivated and was assigned preservation status.
Concerns over environmental pollution in the 1970s led to
studies by the Environmental Protection Agency of ground
Summer 2008
pollution at the plant. When the facility was used for the production of aluminum, wastes were buried or burned on the
property. The plating of ammunition cases for Korean and
Vietnam wars required large quantities of cyanide and zinc,
plus quantities of chromium, cobalt, copper, lead, mercury,
nickel, and silver. These wastes, including sludge and solid
waste, were disposed in a landfill at the northeastern section
of the plant’s acreage. After 1966, solid wastes were transported off the property.
The cyanide waste was treated with chlorine before flowing
to unlined industrial treatment ponds, located over a mile north
of the facility, on the flood plain of the Stanislaus River. The
ponds occupied 30 acres, where evaporation-percolation technique was used. Treated liquid was then released into the
river.
The greatest concern was the contamination of ground water at the plant site and the treatment ponds. Ground water
was used for drinking, washing, irrigation, and recreation. Environmental studies done during the 1970s concluded that
ground pollution levels never posed a health hazard, but the
old disposal site at the facility was thoroughly treated and
capped-off, as specified by governmental standards. No further action was required, but monitoring of the site continued.
In 1990, the facility was placed on closure status by the U.S.
Department of Defense, with the date of closure scheduled
for 2011. In the 1990s, in conjunction with the city of Riverbank,
the facility become the home of over a dozen civilian industrial enterprises and named the Riverbank Industrial Complex. The facility has 109 buildings, six miles of pavement,
and five miles of railroad tracks.
Article by Robert LeRoy Santos
Missed the first issue of Stanislaus Historical Quarterly?
There are copies available, and one can be sent to you without cost. Also,
consider being placed on the mailing list to receive the new issues when published. We are trying to develop a mailing list of interested readers. Please
consider sharing your SHQ issues with others. No charge for the issues. Just
contact: Robert LeRoy Santos, Alley-Cass Publications, 2240 Nordic Way,
Turlock, CA, 95382. Tel: 209.634.8218. Email: [email protected]
Also in this Summer’s issue: WW II’s Riverbank Aluminum Plant