ALBERT T. D. WAGNER
Chief Yeoman, USN
Since my return from a tour of duty in China, about a year previously, I had been assigned duty on board the USS UTAH, formerly a heavily armored battleship, but now converted to an aircraft training ship. She was being used as a target for bombing practice, and anti aircraft training school for gunners. We generally trained around 200 men in classes of two-week periods.
We were anchored in the Aircraft Carrier USS LEXINGTON's berth, as she was out on the high seas maneuvering with the balance of the PACIFIC FLEET, under war conditions. Our decks were completely covered with two layers of heavy timber, 6"thick, a foot wide, and from 10 to 20 feet long. Our guns were covered with protective steel.
Thus, our planes could drop light weight practice bombs on the ship without damaging the decks or equipment. When an aircraft would make a strike, the bomb, weighing around 3 lbs, would partially penetrate the 12" of protective planking. Each aircraft would have a color of it's own which enabled the ship's crew to mark and score the hit. In this category the UTAH has been made useless as a fighting ship.
The attack occurred - I was going to say on the most beautiful day of the year, but every day is beautiful in Honolulu. I have always been an early riser so had finished breakfast and was sitting at the table talking to some of my shipmates. As it was Sunday, many of the Chiefs were still in their bunks. Suddenly. the air was rent by a terrific explosion. Rushing to the porthole I saw a huge column of black smoke bellowing high into the heavens. At the same time that I saw the smoke, I saw three Japanese war planes nearing the edge of the harbor from over the horizon coming straight at the USS UTAH. I rushed toward my battle station which was on the third deck and in the after part of the ship.
I had just reached the third deck when the ship was rocked by a direct hit. I had reached the foot of the ladder when the explosion occurred and was drenched by the huge volume of water coming down the hatch and by the oil from tanks directly below me. An empty ship's boat, lying alongside, had been demolished in the blast. The torpedoes had hit the ship at the water's edge, to the rear of where I was standing.
As the explosion blocked passage to my battle station I came up the ladder and scrambled across the steel deck which was slippery with oil and water. Reaching the starboard side I found that men were being driven below. I descended the ladder to the next deck, but immediately realizing the ship was turning over, I reversed my direction and ascended to the quarterdeck, passing the line of men going down.
Upon reaching the quarterdeck an officer on duty attempted to send me below again. I told him, "To hell with that, sir, I can't reach my battle station on account of the explosions. and, besides the ship is turning over." I crossed the quarterdeck to pick up my lifejacket that had been stored in the aircastle, but found the space completely jammed with men.
As it looked like a death trap, I changed my course and headed for the side of the ship. She was listing so badly by this time that I could easily crawl through through the lifelines and walk on the side of the ship, upon the blister. I then saw that if I could climb on top of the heavy lines which stretched from the ship to some piling that had been driven deep into the dirt of the harbor for the purpose of securing the ship midstream, I could walk the tightly stretched line to the piling, climb down the piling to a small cement shelf and there undress, preparatory for my swim to the beach. about a quarter of a mile away.
I soon gave up this attempt as I did not have the strength to pull myself onto the approximately 2 feet of line. I dropped to the ship's side, but , again I was forced to walk down over the mass of barnacles, sharp as needles, and jump into the water. I then clambered up onto the small concrete shelf and removed all my clothing. Suddenly realizing I would be in an awful fix upon reaching the beach without a stitch of clothes on, I recovered my skivvies, folded by billfold which contained $10 and all my identification papers, over the edge of my skivvies, and then jumped into the water for the swim to the beach. There was a steel line running parallel to the beach about 200 feet out from the shore, and about two feet above the water, also, another line running from the beach to the line out in the harbor.
I made it to the wire running parallel to the beach and reached up and grabbed the wire. I was holding onto it resting when I heard word passed to abandon ship. Boats were already searching the water for men needing help. The coxswain, seeing me hanging onto the wire called out, "Hey Wagner, what are you doing there - I can't approach any closer but will throw you a life jacket."
The jacket failed to reach me and I wasn't about to let go of the wire line and reenter the deep water for a life jacket. After resting a while, I let go and swam for the line going into the beach and in a short time had walked that wire line into the beach. Upon reaching the beach, I discovered a partially dug sewer trench, and, with many others, watched the remainder of the battle.
It made as beautiful a war picture as I ever saw. Shells and bombs bursting everywhere with puffs of smoke and flame filling the atmosphere. The Japanese planes were flying high above our fire and zooming down at their targets.
Even with the clamor and confusion, I had heard a hammering noise on the UTAH, which by this time (14 minutes) had turned completely over. The men on one of the rescue boats also heard it. They approached the ship and struck the side with a wrench. The hammering from inside the hull immediately resumed and a couple of men climbed onto the ship's bottom, which was sticking out of the water about 6 feet; located the spot from which the hammering came, and signaled that rescue would be made.
The rescue boat then pulled to the USS RALEIGH, a heavy cruiser lying just ahead of us and listing badly. With the help of the USS RALEIGH men and an acetylene torch, a hole was cut through the bottom of the hull and the imprisoned sailor was rescued - Jack Vaessen. A very dramatic rescue to watch.
Later on, while making up a list of all our men safe on the beach, I asked the rescued sailor what made him go to the bottom of the ship. He told me that his duty watch that morning had been at the switchboard. When the lights went out he had taken his flashlight and having found a dog wrench [a wrench used for dogging, or closing watertight doors and hatches] for the hatch to the bilges which he crawled through to the bottom tapping for a hollow sound. Because of his ingenuity and tenacity, and his shipmate's bravery, Jack was miraculously rescued.
We lost 57 men from the UTAH, and a little over 2400 men over the island.
Albert T. D. Wagner, Chief Yeoman, USN
