Nomad News-Vol.3-No.61

ABOARD THE USS FREDERICK LYKES: In Nomad News No. 60, I left you at Camp Shanks, New York. I wish to back-peddle to Marseille, and the USS Frederick Lykes. When I was at Camp Chicago, typing my fingers off preparing departure rosters, the Master Sergeant in charge stated there would be no duties on board ship if we worked now in preparing the rosters. On a brilliant, warm early October day, we boarded the USS Frederick Lykes, a Navy troopship. She was a spick & span clean craft, just the opposite to the Nieu Amsterdam, a Holland Line luxury liner that had been converted to a troop carrier. After getting settled in my compartment, I roamed the ship looking for a route of access to the galley. I detested standing in chow lines, and wherever I went I looked for a route that would put me near the front of the line when the call sounded. Rank carried with it some privileges but, in a chow line everyone is a buck private. Right in front of my compartment there was a spiral companionway that led to the deck below where the galley was aft. Having determined my path to the galley, I went on deck and discovered a bulletin board. In big letters were the words "Duty Roster". The first name on the list for KP the next day was "Staff Sergeant Andrew M. Dolan". Out loud I said "S.O.B", with that Master Sergeant in mind. The following morning I waited in my quarters for the chow bell, went to the front of the line, picked up my breakfast and while eating, the first call came over the PA system: "Sergeant Dolan, report to the galley". I finished my beakfast, went to the day room and picked up a book and as I was heading for the bow of the ship, the second call came. Shortly after getting settled down in the warm sun and starting to read, the third call came. That was the end of the harassment. I never looked at the bulletin board again. The Mediterrean Sea was as calm as a mill pond. When we passed through the Strait of Gibralter, I put my book down and mused: It's finally over. I'm on the way home. And the ocean seemed to relax, too. We experienced only gently rolling seas for the next eight days. Quite the opposite from the turbulent waters of the North Atlantic on the way over. The nearly five years away had passed quickly, and it was now time to file it away and proceed into the future. I published the following episode in Nomad News No. 55 over a year ago, but as it occured on board the USS Frederick Lykes, I am going to repeat it: FORT DEVANS AIR BASE, MA, SUMMER OF 1942: At the time I was Headquarters Staff Sergeant and when First Sergeant Don Jones was on furlough, I filled in for him, too. We had been getting draftees assigned since Pearl Harbor and one, Jerome Roller,didn't adjust well to army life. He was forever bellyaching and complaining. A "First Sergeant's delight". One you wouldn't hesitate to put on double duty if the opportunity arose. Roller applied for Officer Candidate School, Artillery; and was accepted. He was to leave in two days and had just come off guard duty. On the day before, I put him on KP. About 8 o'clock Sergeant of the Guard Calimita came to Headquarters and advised me that Roller had not reported to the Mess Hall and was still in his bunk, stating he was leaving for OCS the next day and had to get ready. I told Calimita that he may be leaving tomorrow, but today he was on KP. Calimita left and was back in five minutes saying Roller still wouldn't get up. I stopped what I was doing, but on my cap, went to the bunk house and there was Roller with the blanket pulled up over his head. I pulled the blanket off and told him he was on KP and to get his ass up there. He whined "I'm leaving for OCS tomorrow". I replied: "You're going no where tomorrow if you're not in the Mess Hall in five minutes." He hopped out of his bunk like a scared rabbit and started grabbing his clothes. I had no authority to stop him from leaving but, he didn't know that. Along about 10 o'clock, the Officer of the Day Captain Julian White came by and asked if I was ready to make the rounds. Our first stop was the Mess Hall and as we entered mess Sergeant Eddie Barodick stated he had just taken some raisen pies from the oven and would we care for a slice. We did, and as we proceeded to a table, Roller came over and asked if he could speak to the Captain. I kept walking as they conversed. After joining me at the table, Captain White informed he had OKd for Roller to leave early. I related the mornings' proceeding And the Captain rose, went back to Roller and advised him he would be on duty until officialy relieved. Early afternoon, Broderick called and said he had a bunch of dirty field ovens that needed cleaning and could he put Roller on them. I said: "He's yours until you relieve him." Later in the afternoon, I passed by and saw Roller sweating in the hot sun. He departed the next morning and I often thought, "I sure hope I never end up under his command". It wasn't likely as he would be Artillery and I was Air Corps, but you never know in the military Time went by and I am now on the USS Frederick Lykes on the way home. We were about three days at sea when I was in my compartment, waiting for the lunch bell. It rang and I headed for the spiral companianway to the next deck when I saw someone at the bottom, waiting to come up. When I hit the deck, there in front of me was Captain Roller. Can you believe it? We looked at each other and he said: "Don't I know you, Sergeant?" I replied: "I don't think so, Captain." He said: "Yes, the 103rd." (The 103rd Observation Squadron at Fort Devans) I replied: "You're right." He then started asking about various members of the 103rd and I told him the squadron had been split up and I had no knowledge as to the whereabouts of any of them. He suggested we get together before arrival in New York and I agreed as we parted. I had no intention of looking for him and, of course, I have no knowledge as to what he had decided. Now, for the $64,000 question: Sixteen million Americans had been in uniform and scattered over a large portion of the earth, three years later, the two of us alone in the belly of a ship, in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. It happened! But, what are the odds of this happening?