by Dave Thornton
Dick Sawtell was serving as a Quarter-Master
Third Class aboard the Heavy Cruiser USS Quincy in 1936. One night
after coming off shift while the Cruiser was in the middle of the
Atlantic Ocean, on its maiden voyage and shakedown cruise, powerful
vibrations coursed through the 10,000-ton vessel.
Sawtell contacted the radio room. "What the
Devil's going on, Sparks," he asked.
"We've been ordered to steam for Gibraltar," came
the reply.
A Navy veteran at the ripe old age of 18, Dick
Sawtell was about to participate in the Spanish Civil War.
There were 1,500 Americans residing in Spain at
that time, Sawtell recalls. He is 77 years old now, and his wartime
experiences are long behind him. But those times are some of the
most vivid of his memories.
COMMUNISTS, FASCISTS
When the Communists and the Fascists squared off
in Spain in what was to be a prelude to the Second World War, all
foreign nationals were in danger. The United States sent two of its
Naval vessels, the Quincy and the Battleship Oklahoma, to rescue
Americans, if need.
The Americans would soon find themselves rubbing
elbows with the crewmen of the German pocket battleship the Graf
Spee, it, too, bent on rescuing civilians.
Other Nations did the same.
The Quincy was commissioned in February, 1936.
She lasted exactly six years. She got her name from Quincy, Mass.,
where she was built.
She had a crew of 1,000 men. For armament, she
boasted three huge turrets of eight-inch cannons. There were also
eight five-inch anti-aircraft cannon and 8 50-caliber machine guns.
There were four 36-inch searchlights mounted on a
platform between the two smoke stacks. They could be synchronized
with the eight inch guns and the AA guns, so that wherever the
search lights pointed, the guns would automatically train to that
spot.
In August, 1936, Sailor Sawtell was alight with
pride in his ship, which was the Flagship of a European squadron,
formed in response to the Spanish war. Dick's mother back home at
Buskirk's Bridge, clipped from the newspaper every article about it
and pasted them up with Dick's letters, when they arrived.
In 1936, in a letter to his mother, Dick boasted
of the five aeroplanes on board that could be launched for patrol
duty or converted for pursuit. They were double-winged, and armed
with twin Vickers machine-guns that were synchronized to shoot
through the propeller.
A Lewis, air cooled gun was mounted on a ring
around the cockpit coaming so the pilot could aim it as he flew.
The planes could fly at the breath-taking speed
of 350 mph.
A major function of the planes was to provide the
triangulation needed for the pinpoint accuracy of the long-range
guns.
Dick Sawtell grew up on a farm near Buskirk's
Bridge, where his father had grown up. Every day he and other kids
from the north bank of the River would walk across the famous
covered bridge to attend School # 12. The teachers were Mary Flynn
and Eleanor Pratt. Today the Buskirk Fire Dept uses the school
building.
Like many boys in those days, Dick dropped out of
school to go to war. Before it was over, ten years of his youth
would have passed, mostly spent in two cruises with the US Navy.
TRIAL RUNS
The USS Quincy was eventually relieved from the
Spanish War duty by the USS Raleigh. She had been sent so
precipitously into the war that the Navy had never taken official
possession of her. She returned to the East Coast for testing and
refitting. Off Old Orchard, Maine was a measured mile. Before the
Navy would accept her, the Quincy had to steam through that mile
making 36 knots.
Then, at full steam, she had to perform a tight
"figure eight".
Then, while at full steam, came the command over
the speaker: "Prepare for full reverse!" The screws were stopped and
reversed, the whine of the turbines could be heard throughout the
10,000-ton dreadnaught.
Dick recalled that when she backed down at full
speed, the entire stern would go under water.
Dick was on board when the Quincy was
commissioned and he served aboard until March, 1939, when his tour
was up. This was just before the Quincy steamed around the tip of
South America on a Good Will tour.
While the Quincy and the USS Oklahoma finally
steamed through the Panama Canal to their similar fates in World War
II in the South Pacific, Dick returned temporarily to civilian life.
MONUMENTAL BLUNDERS
Both the Quincy and the Oklahoma were lost
through Navy blunders of monumental proportions.
When the Japs bombed Pearl Harbor in the infamous
sneak attack that brought the United States into WW II, the USS
Oklahoma was one of those ships tied up along Battleship Row. The
attack left her capsized at the dock.
But Navy salvage crews raised her and refitted
her for action. Seventeen months after Pearl Harbor, February 13,
1944, the USS Oklahoma rejoined the Fleet.
Then, on August 9th, 1942, the Quincy was lost in
one of the worst Naval blunders of the War. The US discovered that
the Japanese were constructing an airfield on the strategically
located South Pacific island of Guadalcanal.
Marines were rushed ashore under the very noses
of the arrogant Japanese, who, too late, sent a powerful force to
drive out the Americans.
The battle for Guadalcanal was the first American
ground offensive in the Pacific. It wrote a heroic chapter in the
annals of the US Marine Corps, and it marked the end of Japanese
territorial gains.
But it was a chapter of pure ignominy for the US
Navy.
The Japanese rushed a naval squadron to push the
Americans off the island. Anticipating this, the Americans sent out
two cruiser-destroyer groups to intercept the enemy near Savo
Island.
Through incredible bungling, the two groups
allowed the Japanese armada to approach undetected to almost
point-blank range, when they opened fire. The result was that within
13 minutes of the opening salvo, four US heavy cruisers, including
Dick's beloved USS Quincy, went to the bottom.
When dawn broke over the debacle, the US Navy
steamed away and abandoned the handful of US Marines already put
ashore. Without fresh troops or logistical support, the Marines held
the island and prevented the Japanese from retaking Henderson Field.
GOOD FRIENDS LOST
Dick lost some good friends that night, for many
of the original crew were still serving on the Quincy. One friend in
particular is shown in a picture of Dick's quartermaster shift. As a
backdrop for the picture, one of the huge, gun turrets was used.
The young sailor was fighting in that turret when
a Japanese shell tore it right off.
The battle started that morning at 20 minutes
after one. By daybreak, the ships lay on the bottom in 1,000 feet of
water.
Recently, a U S Navy nuclear sub launched a robot
mini-sub to photograph the bottom off Savo Island. There today sits
the USS Quincy, as upright as if she were still sailing the high
seas, clearly revealing the six gaping wounds in her hull that
destroyed her.
Dick stayed retired during the first few months
after Pearl Harbor. Then he returned to duty, this time as a
quartermaster third class aboard the USS Veritase, a troop ship.
Until the War's end, he would ply the Atlantic,
bringing home war-ravaged Veterans and carrying into combat fresh
troops.
In 1945, he returned to Buskirk and bought his
uncle's house. He was already married by this time, the father of
three kids, at the time: Pat, Terry and Gloria.
Later would come Gail, Penny, Tammy and Jackie.
After the war, Dick drove buses in Troy. He
retired from the United Traction Co.
The mother of his children, Marjorie Roberts,
died in April, 1977.
Today he and his second wife, the former Jeanette
Ladd, live in Cambridge, where they are very active in Capt. Maxson
Post of the American Legion.
Dick still pursues his interest in miniature
trains and buses.
(Note: Dick died in the fall of 2002. dt)