P
PoorOldSpike
Guest
Kennedy (centre front)
To understand the events of August 1 - 2, 1943, which culminated in the sinking of PT-109, it is important to remember that it was dark deeply, unrelievedly dark. The disorienting effect, even for experienced sailors, of a moonless, starless night on the ocean should not be underestimated.
In this profound darkness, PT-109 stood at her station in Blackett Strait, south of Kolombangara in the Solomon Islands, one of the remnants of an operation born into futility, the heir to bad planning and worse communication.
Fifteen PT boats ("Patrol Torpedo" boats) had set out to engage, damage, and maybe even turn back the well-known "Tokyo Express," the Japanese navy's more or less regular resupply convoy that enabled resistance to the advance of U.S. forces in the islands farther south. When the patrol actually did come in contact with the Tokyo Express three Japanese destroyers acting as transports with a fourth serving as escort the encounter had not gone well.
Thirty torpedoes were fired with no more effect than to make the Japanese even warier than they had been. Boats that had used up their complement of torpedoes were ordered home. The few that still had torpedoes remained in the strait, in the doubtful hope of catching the Express on its return voyage.
The only thing that could be said about the action was that if the Japanese had not been damaged, neither had the Americans. That was about to change.
PT-109 was one of the boats left behind. Lieutenant Kennedy rendezvoused his boat with PT-162 of his own patrol section and PT-169, which had been separated from another section, and the three boats spread out to make a picket line across the strait. At about 2:30 in the morning, a shape loomed out of the darkness three hundred yards off PT-109's starboard bow. So difficult was visibility that it was first believed to be another PT.
When it became apparent that it was one of the Japanese destroyers, Kennedy attempted to turn to starboard to bring his torpedoes to bear. But there was not enough time. The destroyer, later identified as the Amagiri, the escort ship of the Express, struck PT-109 just forward of the forward starboard torpedo tube, ripping away the starboard aft side of the boat. Less than a minute had passed since the first sighting.
The impact tossed Kennedy around the cockpit, and his radioman, John E. Maguire, was actually thrown from it. Most of the crew were knocked or fell into the water. The one man below decks, engineer Patrick McMahon, miraculously escaped, although he was badly burned by exploding fuel.
Fear that PT-109 would go up in flames drove Kennedy to order the men who still remained on the wreck to abandon ship. But the destroyer's wake dispersed the burning fuel, and when the fire began to subside, Kennedy sent his men back to what was left of the boat.
From the wreckage of the boat, Kennedy ordered the men with him, Edgar Mauer and John E. Maguire, to identify the location of their shipmates still in the water. Ens. Leonard Thom, Gerard Zinser, Ens. George Ross, and Raymond Albert were able to swim back on their own. Kennedy swam out to McMahon and Charles Harris.
Towing the incapacitated McMahon by a life-vest strap, Kennedy returned to the boat, alternately cajoling and berating the hurt, exhausted Harris, who followed behind, to get him through the difficult swim. Meanwhile, Thom pulled in William Johnston, who was debilitated by the gasoline he had accidentally swallowed and the heavy fumes that lay on the water.
Finally Raymond Starkey swam in from where he had been flung by the shock.
Floating on and around the hulk, the crew took stock. Two men, Harold Marney and Andrew Jackson Kirksey, had disappeared in the collision, very likely killed at the impact. All the men were exhausted, a few were hurt, although none as badly as McMahon, and several had been sickened by the fuel fumes, with Johnston the most severely affected. On the other hand, there had been no sign of other boats or ships in the area; the men were afraid to fire their flare gun for fear of attracting the attention of the Japanese who were on islands on all sides.
Furthermore, although the wreckage was still afloat because of its sealed bulkheads, it was taking on water, and it capsized on the morning of August 2. After a discussion of options, and aware that time was running out, the men abandoned the remains of PT-109 and struck out for an islet, three and a half miles away, that they hoped was unoccupied.
Kennedy had been on the swim team at Harvard; even towing McMahon by a belt through his teeth, he was undaunted by the distance. Several of the other men were also good swimmers, but several were not; two, Johnston and Mauer, could not swim at all. These last two were lashed to a plank that the other seven men pulled and pushed as they could. Kennedy arrived first at the island, named Plum Pudding but called by the men "Bird" Island because of the guano that coated the bushes. So spent that he had to be helped up the beach by the man he had towed, Kennedy collapsed and waited for the rest of the crew.
