Veteran Voices from LifeBio: Walter Allsop's Story

By Walter Allsop, Claremont Manor Retirement Community

My name is Walter Allsop, and I was born in 1928. I served in the Navy as a Seaman 1st Class on the Aircraft Carrier USS Valley Forge CV-45.  

I had graduated high school mid-term, and I was working part-time in a machine shop and also delivering by motor scooter for a drug store. I chose to enlist because I wanted to be in the Navy, mainly because my father had been. Older friends from school felt the Navy had been the best choice for them, as well, so in April of 1946, I enlisted in Los Angeles. My parents took me to the “Enlistment Ceremony" at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, which had a large class. From there, we were bussed to the San Diego Naval Base for training.

Boot camp and training sure was a new way of life for me! Every day was different, but always regulated. We were tested for water safety, up early, and participated in military drilling. I had a short haircut, which led to sunburn on my nose and ears. I missed home and my girlfriend, Mary. I also missed my car, which I had given to my brother. The food was plain, and some days better than others, but we had little choice. The barracks and routines were preparing us for military life. There were no weekend passes until toward the end of training.

Finally, the long hours of basic training ended. We left by train for Rhode Island (by way of Mexico and Canada). There was no travel priority for a troop train, and it took almost a week. There were no showers or bunks, and the food was brought aboard on certain stops.

Everything was new to me on the East Coast. I felt the "Petty Officers" in the First Division were fair and reasonable, resulting in a "tight-knit" group, and I made lasting friends. We went to New York many times on "leave" from Philadelphia. We saw the Empire State Building, Ellis Island, and much more. Often at the movies, there would be entertainers on stage, such as Billie Holiday.

An amusing incident comes to mind. Several of our group were returning to the ship from a "Night on the town." One of our group wanted to bring liquor on board with him, which was strictly against the rules. Bradley was ordered to throw the bottle overboard. He quickly removed one of his new shoes and threw it over. The officer on duty didn't see the shoe go, but heard the splash. He took it to be the liquor.

While waiting for the Valley Forge CV-45 to be commissioned, I had three weeks of leave, and I sent for Mary to come to Philadelphia, where we were married. After our wedding, we stayed in Philadelphia. We often had friends from the ship visit us to play cards and join us for dinner. My friends were as anxious to start the cruise as I was.

Once underway, I was so impressed to be onboard this huge carrier as we went through the docks! I had been trained in firing the 5" cannons in the “Gun Tubs,” which needed to be removed for passage. We were on the way to San Diego. As soon as we got there, I was taken off the ship and sent to Balboa Naval Hospital where I had surgery on my knee. It wasn’t long until I was aboard the next ship leaving San Diego for Hawaii to rejoin my crew. Arriving in Hawaii, I could see ships that were sunk in the bay, and there was much destruction. From there, our ship was soon headed for the Panama Canal.

I wrote many letters home to my parents and Mary. I gave them much information about the Valley Forge maiden cruise: a good will cruise around the world. There have been three Valley Forge Aircraft Carriers. I have a "plank" from the flight deck of the original ship that I was on. 

I was discharged in February of 1948 at the U.S. Naval Air Station in Alameda, California. I flew home from Hawaii to San Francisco for it. Mary had found an apartment; and there was so much to do: start school, work, and family. After I left the service, I returned to work at the machine shop. I entered John Muir College, graduated, and applied to Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department, and was accepted. I applied to USC, using the GI Bill of Rights, and I stayed in college until I received my master's degree. 

Mary and I went on to have two daughters, and now we have eight grandchildren and three great-grandchildren!

-Walter Allsop, Claremont Manor Retirement Community

LifeBio is an engagement program that captures cherished memories and lasting legacies through storytelling. Since launching in 2000, LifeBio has helped 20,000 people tell their life stories through autobiographical tools and services for all levels of care. LifeBio uses technologies as mediums to help individual document their stories in an easy and unique way such as tablets, web cams, and audio and video equipment. LifeBio has been a partner with Front Porch since 2009. For more details, check out LifeBio’s Impact Story on the Front Porch Center for Innovation and Wellbeing (FPCIW) website.

 

Veteran Voices from LifeBio: Dr. John Grover

by Dr. John Grover, resident at Fredericka Manor Retirement Community

On my 18th birthday, I enlisted in the Navy – my older brother was already a Navy pilot. At the time that I enlisted, the war was still on, so I felt committed to being a serviceman. I wanted to be a hospital corpsman, but because I did well on the Eddy Test, I was earmarked for electronics school, which is what I ended up doing. A whole year of intensive technical training in electronics was good preparation for college. After my training ended, I volunteered to go anywhere in the world and was sent to Washington, D.C., where I helped develop new electronic communications equipment. Learning to deal with the pressures and experiences of complex electronics service was a good background for my future medical career. I later "shipped over" to gain the GI Bill to help pay for my educational expenses. By then the war was over, so I did not see combat.

Boot camp at the Great Lakes Naval Training Station was marred by my catching mumps and being hospitalized for three weeks. The war ended while I was in basic training, and I remember singing in a 10,000-voice choir to celebrate. I kept a diary during my technical schooling in Gulfport, Mississippi, but I was more concerned with describing the pretty girls at the USO or sailing trips on the Gulf of Mexico. I remember one time when I knitted a pair of booties at the USO for my new nephew, to amazing looks from the girls.

Upon my discharge from the Navy, I went directly from my station in Maryland to Harvard College, and did not get home until Christmas, 1949. I felt immediately at home at Harvard Yard that year. I was one of the vets still turning up for college, and we had mature goals. I had a Pepsi Cola scholarship that helped with college expenses, and I had saved the GI Bill so that I could attend medical school. A fellowship sponsored by the Josiah Macy Foundation helped with post-graduate education. I felt excited but really at home in finally getting the medical training I had always wanted. I went on to become a doctor, specializing in obstetrics/gynecology. In fact, I have delivered over 5,000 babies in my 40-year medical career!

Music has always been an important part of my life, from the early tutorings of my mother on piano to learning the trombone with Frank Troy, Sr. and Mildred Fowler in high school. I played in a traveling dance band in the summers of 1943 and 1944, and also with a band in the Navy, with weekly concerts on the Potomac River. In college, I played with the Harvard band, a full-sized dance band, and a small Dixieland group. During my adult life, I sang in church choirs regularly, because tenors are always needed. These activities have continued throughout my retirement, both in Chicago and here in Chula Vista.

I am grateful for the gift of good health throughout my life. I am especially grateful for my wife, Philippa, whom I have known since our childhood days in West Virginia, and the wonderful family we have shared.

LifeBio is an engagement program that captures cherished memories and lasting legacies through storytelling. Since launching in 2000, LifeBio has helped 20,000 people tell their life stories through autobiographical tools and services for all levels of care. LifeBio uses technologies as mediums to help individual document their stories in an easy and unique way such as tablets, web cams, and audio and video equipment. LifeBio has been a partner with Front Porch since 2009. For more details, check out LifeBio’s Impact Story on the Front Porch Center for Innovation and Wellbeing (FPCIW) website. 

My First-Hand Account of the Attack on Pearl Harbor, December 7, 1941

by Edward McQuiston, resident at Casa de Mañana Retirement Community

Everyone who was alive at the time remembers where they were on this date. I remember where I was, because we lived on Malama Way in Manoa Valley, overlooking Waikiki Beach on Oahu, Territory of Hawaii. We were just waking up on Sunday morning, preparing to have breakfast and then go to church. Dad was on the USS William Ward Burroughs, two days from Wake Island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, towing a barge with a huge crane on it. My sister, Marge, was attending the University of Hawaii, and I was in the 10th grade at Roosevelt High School. 

At the time, I kept a diary, and this is my entry from that date: "I awoke this morning to the well-known anti-aircraft fire and although it sounded a little more often than usual practice, I thought not much of it, except that why they were firing on Sunday. It was around 8:25 or 8:30 that I was fully awake, and I heard someone downstairs switch on the radio to find the correct time so we would not be late for church. The first thing we heard was the announcer bawl out, ‘Stay off the telephone! Do not use your telephone; keep the lines clear for the Army; this is the real McCoy.’ (Hawaii's king at the time). Mother and Marjorie were getting excited and so was I, but then I said to myself, ‘I don't think this is real, the Army is just seeing what the public would do in case a real raid happened along. This is all a joke.’ I said, ‘Hadn't we had a practice blackout last May? How silly it was for everyone to get heated up over a little practice.’ Boy, would I kid them about it at breakfast when Margie and Mother find out it is just a practice. Everyone started to collect outside in pajamas and other night apparel and were talking excitedly. I hurried and got dressed, not wanting to miss any of the showing."

First, we heard an airplane overhead and then an explosion. The radio was on, and the program was interrupted by an announcer telling us that Pearl Harbor had been attacked by airplanes with the rising sun emblem on the wings! This is no drill!

I climbed out of my bedroom window onto the roof from the second story of our home; I was going to take some pictures. Smoke was rising from the direction of Punaho School, down the hill about a mile away. I saw a P-38 fighter high in the sky zooming along. Mt. Tantalus blocked our view of Pearl Harbor, so I was going to call my friend and hike to the top, where we could see what was going on. Then Mom called me down from the roof and wouldn't let me leave the house. I was to stay and look after Marge and her, she said. However, we could see Waikiki Beach, Diamond Head, and the ocean. Soon, we saw destroyers taking positions at intervals out from the shoreline as if to repel landings and search for submarines. That seemed to be the only activity going on from our vantage point.

Later in the day, I got a call from my Boy Scout troop leader, telling me that I was needed to patrol Waikiki Beach for "blackout." Mom reluctantly let me go with several other Scouts, in our uniforms, hiking down two-and-a-half miles to the patrol area. It was getting dark when we were given our instructions and started in pairs, walking up and down the residential streets. It became pitch dark, with no moonlight.

We were very thorough in our search for any light coming from the homes and apartments. We crossed the main street, Kalakaua Avenue, very carefully. Military vehicles that drove by were very hard to see, because their headlights were taped over, with just a small slit of light showing. It was dangerous to cross. Our method was to stand on the curb, look and listen carefully, then dash across. One time, we had barely gotten to the other side when a vehicle swished by us! Later, we were walking along when a figure jumped out in front of us with a rifle and said, "Halt! Who goes there?" This really scared us, but we managed a squeaky, "It's just us Boy Scouts." Fortunately, he was friendly and allowed us to pass. We were lucky, because there were a lot of trigger happy people that night.

On our hike home, we suddenly heard a shell coming our way from the sky. We dove for cover by the side of the road, just like in the movies. It went over us and hit a field some distance away, but didn't explode. Later, we were told that some of the gunners near Pearl Harbor fired some rounds and that was a dud that didn't explode in the air.

The expected landings did not occur, but people were frightened and some reported anything that looked suspicious. On one occasion, there was a report that someone was on a telephone pole, signaling seaward with a light. This turned out to be a telephone repairman just doing his work.

The next day, one of my sister Marge's naval officer friends appeared at our door in his white uniform, wrinkled and very dirty. He came from his ship in Pearl Harbor. After a bath and a change of clothes, he described the devastation.

When we finally returned to school, we were issued gas masks in a case and shoulder strap. We carried them everywhere we went and had practice drills. When I went surfing at Waikiki, there was barbed wire strung all along the beaches in front of the hotels. The businesses boarded up or taped their windows to protect them and to keep the glass from shattering. Sitting on our surfboards, waiting for the "right" wave, we occasionally saw ship convoys passing just off Diamond Head, with destroyer escorts patrolling for submarines. On one occasion, they made contact and we watched as they launched depth charges that exploded, sending water high into the air. We never heard whether they sank a sub or not.

We heard very little about Dad on the "Willlie" War Burroughs Navy ship. Friends of ours would call now and then to let us know that he was still afloat. It was a very stressful time for my mother. Dad's task prior to the war was to supply materials and equipment to build the docks and piers to make a port at Wake Island. When war broke out, he was on radio silence, making four knots speed while towing a barge. No change of orders came as he steamed on towards the island. Finally, the next day, having heard nothing, he broke radio silence and requested instructions. He expected them to direct him to cut the barge loose, stay clear of Wake, and return to Pearl Harbor. Instead, they realized his predicament and ordered him instead to change course and tow the barge to Johnston Island, another small island south of Wake, and then return to Pearl Harbor.

He delivered the barge with the crane as ordered, without incident. The officer in charge at Johnston asked that the ship remain at anchor in the harbor until the next morning, as they had some civilian personnel for him to take back to Pearl. During the night, while at anchor in the small uncharted harbor, a Japanese submarine surfaced on the opposite side of the island and proceeded to bombard the installations. Shells that missed the island landed around the ship! Dad got the ship underway and tried to weigh anchor, only to have the anchor fall on one of the coral heads. They broke the anchor chain and cleared the harbor. Fortunately, they missed hitting other uncharted coral heads as they got away in the dark and the submarine never knew the ship was there. He then returned to Pearl Harbor.

In February 1942, Mother, my sister Marge, and I were evacuated to the States, along with other families. We boarded a Navy transport ship in a convoy. As we passed Diamond Head, I was thankful that the destroyers around us did not need to drop any depth charges!

LifeBio is an engagement program that captures cherished memories and lasting legacies through storytelling. Since launching in 2000, LifeBio has helped 20,000 people tell their life stories through autobiographical tools and services for all levels of care. LifeBio uses technologies as mediums to help individual document their stories in an easy and unique way such as tablets, web cams, and audio and video equipment. LifeBio has been a partner with Front Porch since 2009. For more details, check out LifeBio’s Impact Story on the Front Porch Center for Innovation and Wellbeing (FPCIW) website. 

Veterans' Voices from LifeBio: Ronald Max Bailey

In honor of Veterans Day, we are featuring stories of Front Porch residents who served in our armed forces. This is the story of Ronald Max Bailey, an England Oaks Retirement Community resident, who began his service in the U.S. Navy during the Vietnam War.

"I served in the United States Navy. I was on active duty from September 1970 until October 1982. I achieved the rank of Senior Chief while I was on active duty. I then served in the Reserves from 1983-1996, and I was promoted to Warrant Officer CW2 while in the Naval Reserves.

I attended Lamar University in Beaumont, Texas. I graduated with my Bachelor of Arts in Biology. During this time, I married my wife, and we have now been together 46 years. My reason for receiving a Bachelor of Arts in Biology was because I planned to be a teacher. Plans changed.

I enlisted in the Navy, so that I was not drafted. It was my decision to enlist, because I wanted to serve my country by ensuring the Navy ships accomplished their missions. I liked watching ships when I was young. I also liked traveling.  

It was bittersweet for me to leave home. My wife was expecting our son and even though she was very anxious, she saw me off. After about two months, it was requested by our OB that I should be allowed to come home for the birth of our son, as it was going to be a risky delivery. I was there for three or four days before we knew he was out of danger.

Boot camp was an initiation to Hell Week! I lost about 30-40 pounds during boot camp. We had many hours of rigorous exercises and the food was very BAD! I was one of a few enlistees who could type, so I did that most of the time. That was a great escape for me, as I enjoyed the air conditioned office and not having to complete most of the exercises.

After completing boot camp, I received specialization in my Naval Rate as Machinist Mate. When I went to my first duty station in Alameda, California, I got to be more hands-on at nuclear power plants in my rate of Machinist Mate. After completing my required schooling, I stayed in Alameda, California, for about six months before I was told to go to the nuclear powered aircraft carrier, the USS Enterprise. Life on an aircraft carrier is like living on a floating city. Like any other job in the civilian world, if you do your job well and promptly, everyone was happy.

I did not see any actual combat, because the Enterprise was out at sea. The aircraft completing missions took off from the carrier. Some returned in bad condition, but they were home safe and sound. Even though we did not see combat, I felt proud that I was completing my assigned tasks to the best of my ability. My most memorable experience was in our port of call in Tasmania. The locals met the ship and took several of us home to eat, sight-see, and talk! The family I went home with treated me very well. We ate wonderful home-cooked meals, did a lot of guided sight-seeing, and just having a comfortable bed was great. 

My wife and mother wrote a lot of letters and we were able to call home some during long deployments. The letters acted as a link between my wife, son, and parents. My wife wrote many more letters than I did, which was a source of support for me. This, along with my faith in God, got me through rough times.  

My last duty command was under Captain Hilt, who was in command of the USS South Carolina (CGN 37). He was a good leader, in that our whole command received the Enlisted Surface Warfare Service Award. My wife worked with Mrs. Hilt in the Wives Club and as an ombudsman! Being on my last deployment to the home port of Norfolk was bittersweet, as I knew my discharge from the Navy was near. I truly loved my service in the U.S. Navy. We were welcomed home by a huge mass of people who met the ship. The community was a great welcome, too.

Upon my discharge from the Navy, I worked for three nuclear power plants as an instructor for new operators. I also spent several years employed by the Nuclear Regulatory Commission. I did many on-site inspections of nuclear power plants in many states. I would have stayed in the Navy longer, but deployments were often long and in-port time was not nearly long enough. One of my deployments lasted 13 months. All in all, I was very proud of being a sailor in our U.S. Navy. I felt I was doing my part to protect our country!”

-Ronald Max Bailey

LifeBio is an engagement program that captures cherished memories and lasting legacies through storytelling. Since launching in 2000, LifeBio has helped 20,000 people tell their life stories through autobiographical tools and services for all levels of care. LifeBio uses technologies as mediums to help individual document their stories in an easy and unique way such as tablets, web cams, and audio and video equipment. LifeBio has been a partner with Front Porch since 2009. For more details, check out LifeBio’s Impact Story on the Front Porch Center for Innovation and Wellbeing (FPCIW) website.