A Bud in Hawaii

We boarded a troop ship, the Sulton, for a 14-day trip to Hawaii. The 3,000 troops were much like me, never near an ocean, let alone aboard a ship

The result was that 90 per cent of the troops were seasick for the first three or four days at sea. That meant the other ten per cent had to pull the few duties not regularly assigned to the Navy crew running the ship. For some reason, I didn’t succumb to seasickness and got assigned as a telephone watch talker. That amounted to standing on the bridge at night looking for ships that radar might not pick up, thus avoiding collisions. Being able to see how a huge ship like that was run, and being a part of it, was thrilling duty for a young non-sailor like me.

The other good part was that the chow lines were nearly empty and those not sick were fed like kings. Eventually most of the troops got well and the usual waiting line for food resumed, but the telephone watch talking job continued for the two week cruise.

Another surprise came as we docked in Honolulu. Bud Farr, my friend from Murray, had enlisted in the Navy some time earlier and was with Military Sea Transport Service (MSTS). He actually got sea pay because his job took him out in the harbor at a lighthouse each day.

His mother and mine corresponded, so Bud knew I was coming to Hawaii for basic training. He had access to shipping logs and spent weeks scanning the rosters of incoming ships until he found which one I would be on.

It was a typical Army debarkment from a naval ship. We were rousted at 5 a.m. to make preparations for an 8 a.m. departure. It takes a long time for 3,000 men to get off, but after a couple hours standing in line with all our possessions in one duffel bag mounted on our shoulder, we finally made it to the gang plank

As I neared the shore, there was Bud shouting at my sergeant to let me out of the line. He had a hula girl and a Navy photographer to take our picture.

The sergeant relented and Bud said, “Take the duffel bag off your shoulder Pinky.”

“Bud,” I said, “if I take this duffel off my shoulder now, after two hours, I won’t have the strength to put it back up.”

It was true. That long with 50 pounds or more on your shoulder does somewhat weaken your lifting power. Besides, the sergeant was pushing us to get on with the picture-taking.

I still have a copy of the photo, my left arm around a hula girl and Bud helping me hold up the duffel bag.