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With
Christmas 1955 not far away, the Gardiners Bay returned to its homeport in
Alameda. My relief arrived to assume the duties as disbursing officer. He
double checked the pay records, counted the money in the safe, and signed the
papers lifting my primary job on the ship. I had received orders to report to
the Hamilton County (LST-802) to relieve the supply officer of that ship. The
ships homeport was Long Beach, and was scheduled to remain stateside for
several months. I knew nothing about the ship, but had seen an LST from a
distance during exercises in Little Creek three years earlier. As we would not
be returning to the bay area, we packed our stuff, loaded the car, and headed
east.
After a short Christmas visit in Kansas, we took the southern route back
to Long Beach. The Hamilton County was in port. It was a beautiful, - hulk.
All the suave and debonair that accompanied the Gardiners Bay was left behind
when they designed the LST. Before I could say Jack Robinson, I had
moved from club level suites to steerage.

The above 1950 Navy Archive picture
of the 802 was taken in Inchon, Korea. It shows the bow doors open, and
its ramp on the beach for loading or unloading cargo or personnel. While
the ship is over 300 feet long, the forward two-thirds is a single tank-deck, a
long narrow warehouse in which may be placed anything that fits. With this
huge cargo space, it was perfectly adapted for moving objects large and small and as
many men, women, and children with their personal belongings as could be crammed
in for a short trip. To commemorate the valuable contribution of the LST, a
bronze sculpture was erected in Washington DC entitled Large Slow Target.
The Hamilton County was an outstanding, but traditional ship of this class for
eleven years until 1 July 1955, six months before I reported for duty. The
ship's distinguished service record included one WWII battle star, and seven
Korean battle stars, with service from Guadalcanal, Saipan, and Okinawa to
Inchon and Pusan.
As
ships go, the LST was designed for making one trip across the ocean, - slowly.
They had a tendency to wallow through the waves like a surfboard. With
their flat bottom, if the bow raised much above the waves, its fall to the water
produced a pounding jolt initially, then a slow longitudinal gyration, which can
be clearly observed from either end of the ship. This vibration may last for
three or four seconds before it subsides, a beautiful imitation of Elvis the
Pelvis, the heartthrob at the time. LSTs were virtually unsinkable
because of the honeycomb structure over which they were built. At their top
speed of 10 knots, they created a dashing and awesome spectacle, striking terror
in the hearts of her enemies and her crew alike.
The
802 had performed many evacuations of civilians, military personnel and
equipment through the years. As such, the tank deck became the final resting
place for whatever the evacuees did not want, or could not find as they left the
ship. The most recent evacuation was the previous year from the Tachen Islands
to Formosa. The story was that the rubbish was several feet deep on the tank
deck, and was carried off the ship by the truckload. The untold story
included a ton or two of wharf rats which came aboard with the refugees, and
refused to leave.
The details of the rat story tied together the evacuation of refugees to the structure of the LST, which included
thousands of nooks and crannies in which rodents, mostly rats, could hide
forever. Most rats, I learned, were nocturnal, preferring to come out only
after dark. The nooks and crannies in the ship were dark most of the time,
making it an ideal habitat for nocturnal animals. Because of the infestation, it was said that port
authorities required the 802 to place its rat guards on the lines securing the
ship to the dock in reverse, thus keeping the rats from going ashore. The ship
was a virtual buffet of leavings and hiding places, and unlike every good
sailor, there was no good reason
for any rat to go ashore.
Like
the unsinkable Molly Brown, the Navy discovered that the old Ts were amazingly
versatile, and could be converted to dozens of specialized uses with minor
modifications. With this in mind, it fell the lot of the 802 to become the
newest of three minesweeper tenders. In this role, it was to be outfitted to
supply many of those things needed by minesweepers for clearing waterways of
explosive devices. On 1 July 1955 a magnificent transformation was begun,
converting the ship into a modern and sleek man-o-war, - hulk. Her new
assignment earned it the additional name, Hamilton County, to be appended to the
front of its old number, USS LST-802. In the following picture, the Hamilton
County is ready for exercises off Catalina Island. Just above the yellow mines
is a railing that surrounds the 01 level deck just forward of the bridge. This
is the deck where Captain Quegg, on a similar ship, made many of his
announcements to the crew. It was also where he maintained his pet tree, until
Ensign Pulver threw it overboard.

On
reporting aboard the captain was ashore, and was not expected to return till the
next day. First I found the supply officer who I was to relieve. He was called
up as a reservist, and was looking forward to his return to civilian life. He
took me through the ship and introduced me to the men in the Supply Division. We
made a quick tour of the supply areas for which the department was responsible.
That area covered about 80% of the ship below the main deck, plus the officers
quarters and wardroom facilities. Then he filled me in on the recent story of
the supply department from his perspective. It was not pretty, and bore no
relationship to supply management as taught in school. I was fortunate to miss
the shipyard modifications and re-supply process for its new mission.
The
small group of officers had all arrived within the past few months. They were
young, alert, and well educated, as all had earned at least a bachelors degree
from some college or university. They were all ensigns, or newly promoted JGs,
like me. The executive officer, a former merchant marine for a dozen years, was
on his second Navy tour as a lieutenant JG. By contrast, the captain was
reported to have completed all eight years in elementary school quite
successfully. His credentials as a seaman were never in question, but he
was reported to make derogatory references to those with an education, which
included all of us. The communications officer, a graduate of Harvard, received
an abundance of such comments, owing to his New England accent, coming from the
Ivy League, and for driving a three-wheel Morgan. The stage was nicely set for a
rerun of the Caine Mutiny.
With
the serious problems in the Supply Department, I didn't know if I was about to
take on the role of Mr. Roberts or Ensign Pulver, but I knew I was on the right
ship. Having met the officers, the only thing left to do was meet Captain Quegg.
I wondered if he would juggle three little steel balls in the palm of his right
hand. The next day in Long Beach would tell the story.
On
arriving at the ship the next day, I went first to the captain's quarters. The
captain was Lieutenant Vernon W. Weatherby, a mustang who had arisen from the
ranks of submariners. I reported myself for duty.
"Great little supply
ship you have here, Captain," I added.
He smiled broadly, showing his missing front
teeth. Then he was speechless for several seconds. The delay suggested that
he had never really thought of the ship that way before. It could be that he
had a rush of a dozen derogatory comments, and he just didn't know which one to
choke out first.
"Is this a supply ship?" he asked.
In that moment, I knew it was going to be a very long, action-packed tour of
duty. As all sailors do, I knew I would come to love this great little
ship. As I left his quarters, I could hear the sound of those three little
steel balls.
"Clack, clack, clack, clack"
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