That cry is something I'll never forget.
I think it was our second night at Iwo Jima. The USS Pickens had landed some of our Marines but the Japanese had opposed the landings so severely we still had many men and much materiel to put ashore. Now General Quarters had been called and we were crowded into the radar shack listening to the voices coming over the TBS. All ships had been ordered to make smoke, eliminating visibility but not affecting radar, and ships like ours with no ability to fight opposing air craft, had been ordered to leave the area and return in the morning.
Suddenly over the TBS we heard a terror-filled voice -- "I'm hit! I'm hit! I'm going down!" The voice was young, as one would expect. On board ship we felt protected; with the exception of beach parties our closet feeling of the horrors of the battle was the steady arrival of wounded Marines to be treated on our auxiliary hospital ship.
That young pilot's cry of hopelessness brought the war closer to me than anything that had happened before that time.
I think it was our second night at Iwo Jima. The USS Pickens had landed some of our Marines but the Japanese had opposed the landings so severely we still had many men and much materiel to put ashore. Now General Quarters had been called and we were crowded into the radar shack listening to the voices coming over the TBS. All ships had been ordered to make smoke, eliminating visibility but not affecting radar, and ships like ours with no ability to fight opposing air craft, had been ordered to leave the area and return in the morning.
Suddenly over the TBS we heard a terror-filled voice -- "I'm hit! I'm hit! I'm going down!" The voice was young, as one would expect. On board ship we felt protected; with the exception of beach parties our closet feeling of the horrors of the battle was the steady arrival of wounded Marines to be treated on our auxiliary hospital ship.
That young pilot's cry of hopelessness brought the war closer to me than anything that had happened before that time.
I just discovered your blogs. My father, Rankin "Tip" Tippins, from Auburn, Alabama was a signalman on the Pickens. He was at Iwo Jima and Okinawa. He has many memories of that time, including getting very sick eating bad turkey, being guided into Nagoya by a hungry-looking Japanese pilot, and the captain ordering "Speedy" to bring him a meal. He has a Plank Owner's certificate from the USS Pickens as well as a USS Pickens brochure. He is 88 years old and living in St. Joseph, Michigan. His e-mail address is rtippins@aol.com. Thank You for the blogs and for sharing your memories.
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