Comment on-Remembering WW2

Hi TJ,

I read your blog.  As an adult I became a semi-scholar on all of WWII history, including North Africa, Europe, and the Pacific theaters.  As you know, my father, Dee Collie, was the second officer aboard the repair ship USS Vestal, which was tied to the battleship, Arizona, on the morning of December 7.  When the Arizona exploded, both my dad and the captain, Cassin Young, were blown off the bridge deck into a sea of burning oil.  My dad was hit with shrapnel in mid-air as well as being burned when he landed in the burning oil slick.  He was pulled out of the water by a shore patrol boat.  He told the seaman handling the boat that he needed to get back to his ship.  The seaman overruled his demands and said he was going to the hospital. Captain Cassin Young was able to swim back to the Vestal, and beached the ship to avoid sinking.  For his action at Pearl Harbor, he was awarded the Medal of Honor. 

My dad recovered from his injuries and got back into the war.  He had the choice of serving out the remainder of the war as a staff officer, but he said it wouldn’t be fair to all the young soldiers putting themselves into harm’s way if he took the easy way out.  He was assigned to the ammunition ship, USS Mt. Hood.  He was killed at Manus Island, New Guinea, on November 10, 1944, exactly six months after I was born. 

Commander Cassin Young was killed 3 days later.  As captain of the heavy cruiser, USS San Francisco, he was killed in the naval battle of Guadalcanal, while engaging the battleship, Hiei.  For his actions during the battle, he was posthumously awarded the Navy Cross. 

My dad only saw me one time while I was in an incubator, but he so revered Cassin Young that he named me after him.  My middle name is Cassin.

After raising me alone for five years my mother met another sailor, Chief Gunners Mate Robert M. Schwieder.  They were married when I was only 5-1/2 years old.  Before Bob came into my life I was struggling with periodic tantrums which had no basis other than the lack of a father.  When he became my father, the tantrums ended almost miraculously.  Having a father made all of the difference, although he was still in the navy and there was a war going on, the Korean War.  Bob had also been at Pearl Harbor, a seaman, only 18 years old.  One year after Pearl Harbor, at the age of 19, he was responsible for the lives of 40 men under his command.  By the time he met my mom he had experienced the horrors of war for five long years.  Like your father, he had his own demons to contend with and self-medicated.  Even at the age of five, I had an intuitive understanding of why he needed to drink.  Bob didn’t talk much about the war, either, but I somehow knew.  During the last four years of his 20-year naval service , he was posted to USC, where he taught Naval History.  During his tenure as a naval historian, he took classes at night to earn his graduate degrees and PHD’s in psychology and sociology.  He transferred to Cal Poly Pomona where he became head of the social science department, where he died at the age of 65 from cancer due to exposure to toxic chemicals during WWII and the Korean War.

During the remainder of his life, he struggled with the physical injuries and emotional trauma of his war experiences. 

We are very fortunate to have been given our bountiful lives by the heroic efforts of men like your dad and mine. Like thousands of others, they were heroes.

Dan

P.S.

The explosion of the Mt. Hood had the force of a small atomic bomb.  It created a mushroom shaped cloud.  The force of the blast created an 80’ trench beneath the ship.  Everyone on board was evaporated, and men on other ships in the harbor were also killed.  One man who is on shore picking up the mail was the only survivor of the ship’s crew.  He was knocked on the ground at a distance of ½ mile.