The Luckiest Cat in the World.

An Oral History of Joe Byrd, U.S.N., 1942-1945.

Transcribed by Wilda J. Byrd and John P. Dunn.

Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio, 2 March 2002 / Kent, Ohio, 28 December 2007.

Q. Where and when were you born?

Gainesville, Georgia, 22 September 1922.

Q. Why did you end up in Ohio, and what were you doing there right before the war?

Q. When did you join the Navy?

A week went by, and I was on a bus with 40-50 other guys from Akron – all headed for the same thing – a Navy physical, and more tests. The first physical was just to see if you were breathing, and we were officially sworn into service. We then had our first Navy meal, boarded a train for Great Lakes Naval Training Center. In Chicago, our cars were switched to another train which took us directly into the naval base. It was late in the day, and they just found us a place to sleep.

The next morning, after breakfast, we were all given thorough and complete physicals. There were hundreds of us from all over the country; we were stark naked. Our street clothes were put in a box, pending the completion of the physical. The medics came by and put all kinds of marks on our bodies. We lined up to follow the white line that led to various inoculations and ended with one very complete examination! Still naked, we went back to where our street clothes were stored. If you had passed, you told them where to ship your street clothes, if you failed, you put them back on. My friend Bud Meder failed the physical. He later passed with the Army, and served in Europe.

At this point my clothes were sent back home and I was still naked. After almost four hours, the white line finally took us to small stores. I remember the floor was gritty, grimy, and even had a little blood here and there. At small stores, you were first given a large white bag which could double as a mattress cover. We then received a hammock, clew ropes and rings, and a sea bag. As you continued to walk down the counter, you were given everything you would need in the navy: dress blues, pea coat, whites, work clothes, jeans, caps, sweaters. As the bag became heavier, it began to drag on the filthy floor. Finally, we were taken to showers, and after cleaning up, put on our new uniforms.

Because the Navy was short on undress blues (which featured a jumper without white stripes around the collar), we wore our blues trousers and sweater in Boot Camp. I later had my blues tailor-made. The Navy was not always happy about this, because some tailors had a slightly different shade of blue cloth, but you looked better in a tailored uniform, and almost every guy who kept what the Navy gave him had at least a bit too much, or a bit too little on his jumper or trousers.

Q. What were your impressions of Boot Camp?

Cold, dreary, and exhausting. Learn your Blue Jacket's Manuel (BJM), which explained all the basic skills needed by sailors like us. This helped you know rank insignia, how to tell machinists from deck hands, and what a specialty patch meant.

Then -- Tests! Tests! Tests! I took lots of tests, some very similar to the ones that got me a job with Ohio Bell. The Navy must have seen a future for me with electronics, and so that was the direction they sent me after boot camp. You know they even had a test to find guys who were partially color blind, as the Navy thought they would be better able to spot things that had been camouflaged!

The food was ok, better sometimes. I joined the Navy more than six months after taking my job with Ohio Bell, and this was long enough to qualify me for "bridge pay." [2] That made up the difference between my higher salary at Ohio Bell, and made it easier to send half of my Navy pay back home, where my widowed mother was still taking care of my two younger sisters.

Boot Camp was training to march, learning formations, getting familiar with rifles, and above all else, learning to take orders on the double. By the way, those rifles were in bad shape, and I think they were probably not safe to shoot – and we never fired live rounds with ours. We had lectures, some by men who had already seen combat. Not all these guys were young; some had been in the service and were in their forties. I remember the Navy was transitioning from hammocks to bunks right when I joined up, so I slept in hammocks for the first four weeks. I think the Navy got rid of hammocks because so many guys got busted arms or shoulders falling out! I was six foot five inches tall, and could never fit well in mine. Was real glad to get rid of that hammock, and I think most guys agreed. Boot Camp training was supposed to last for 12 weeks, I think we got out a little early, but it was 1942, and they needed men for service quickly. I was next going to radio school at Northwestern University in Evanston, Ill, just north of Chicago.[3]

Q. Tell us about Radio School.

This was a Navy school, even if some of the professors taught us. We did not mix with regular students, and marched in rank, to and from class. We slept in old Northwestern buildings that had been converted to barracks. These were fenced off from the rest of the university, again, no mixing between us and the students. The old University library had been turned into a mess hall. The food was catered, and it was the best chow I had while I was in the Navy.

In addition to class work, we stood watches, and exercised on a regular basis every morning. You got up at 5:30 when a bugler sounded reveille. You had 45 minutes to wash, shave, get dressed and fall out (line up for the march). Then exercise. We had four battalions, and we rotated between: one day around the town of Evanston, one day playing basketball, one day in the ballet hall for calisthenics, and another day for swimming. In winter, it was VERY cold on the shores of Lake Michigan, and without heavy clothing, which the Navy did not have for all, you could get frostbite. On those days, the marching group was sent to the cavernous area under the indoor pool, where we got a cat nap.

After exercise, it was off for a hearty breakfast, then dash to our barracks to clean up, making sure everything was "ship shape." Then fall in, and rush off to class. Our instructors were mainly military officers, but a few professors also. Our first class was learning to type, as you needed this skill to be part of a radio team. Next we studied procedure for handling Navy radio traffic, which included priorities, security, emergencies, and other aspects of radio traffic specific to ships or naval bases. We had radio theory, and that was the class I enjoyed the best. Upon graduation, they picked four of us to become instructors at the new Naval Training Center at Camp Sampson, near Geneva, New York.

This was another cold place, and very new. That meant very muddy when it was not freezing! By the way, I recall one day when it was 14 degrees below zero! I was chosen to teach Radio Theory – my favorite class. The other three guys taught typing and Morse Code.[4] Almost all radio traffic was transmitted in Morse code, and you put that through five-letter code groups encrypted by a U.S Navy machine, so the enemy would only get gobbldy-gook if they intercepted your message.

When my week ended, I could get a pass to visit Geneva, but as it was a rather small town, and could not handle so many sailors. It was possible to get seventy mile papers, which allowed me to visit bigger cities like Syracuse or Rochester. Geneva was ok, but I got itchy to go someplace else – after your third liberty from Sampson, you'd seen everything there was to see.

Several times I was placed in charge of seamen being transported to Jacksonville, Florida. This was by train, and if everything worked out, I could use one of the three days given to return for a visit to my mother and sisters, who now lived in Miami. One interesting part of this duty was my power to stop the train if it did not have a dining car, then march my command to get a meal. Did this once in Savannah, Georgia. We stopped, and I made a deal with a restaurant to feed my men.

Next I did a short training stint at Theodore Herzl Junior College in Chicago – which was in a Jewish neighborhood, and for the first time in my life, I saw all kinds of signs in Hebrew.[5] This only lasted a month or two, after which I was sent to Philadelphia, Pa on hold for transfer to the front lines. Mainly did guard duty here, as they did not have any training classes. Finally I was assigned to "Drew-6," which I never learned what it meant, but the bottom line was I ended up with a unit headed for the Loire River in France.

Q. How did you get to France? What kind of gear did you get for service in France?

We left from New York in July 1944, crossing the Atlantic in a troop transport, the U.S.S. Lejune. Since we were not part of the crew – the officers just tossed us in the hold.[6] There were over 4000 Navy personnel being transported to Europe, so you were there or on deck at appointed hours. It was very boring. My only break was being appointed to represent my group with ship stores. That was where you could buy candy, cigarettes, soap, or other small items. It was impossible for every man to go there, so guys like me would take orders, collect the money, and bring back the goodies. Gave you something to do.

We had one problem I recall, it concerned a poor guy who had survived the sinking of the U.S.S. Vincennes.[7] He was so worried about being trapped if our ship went down, so he refused to stay below deck, and was regularly caught trying to sleep topside, or in a passageway near the deck. He should not have been on board.

We landed in Glasgow, went directly to a train, and then made for Fowey, in Cornwall, where the U.S. Navy had a camp. My most vivid memory was very dark nights – black as the ace of spades --- to protect us from German bombing raids. There were a lot of us waiting for deployment to Europe, and we had odd and even companies, which switched between duty at the base, or liberty in town. One member of the even company, who was supposed to be on duty, went into town, got lost on his way back, and walked off a cliff to his death. He was "ashore without leave," and this would have had a terrible consequence for his wife and kids – no government insurance, since he was supposed to be on base. Petty officer asked if any would "stand by" for him, basically saying they had switched places with this guy, so he was not in trouble, and the family obtained his insurance. Lots of hands went up, as nobody wanted his family to suffer. Next, I found out Drew-6 was being disbanded, as Patton had punched through the German lines, and our original mission – whatever that was – had become obsolete.

Some of us crossed the Channel in an LST, and I remember tossing hard tack to sea gulls that followed us in vast numbers, and were very good at catching these treats.[8] We went to Utah and Omaha beaches, Brest, and finally Le Havre

Our LST finally transferred us to an old river steamer that was reconfigured to act as a floating barracks. We were there for three-four days before officers arrived to pick men for details. I was one of the first picked, and was then issued an M1 Carbine, which had smaller bullets than the Army's rifle, but big magazines with far more of them.[10] The truck was part of a convoy that pulled generators, fuel tanks, food, and ammunition. I remember really large whip antennas on one of the trucks, which had some pretty nice radio gear set up and operating. There were also explosions in the distance, and the sound of gunfire.

Before you knew it, we were back in Le Havre, and again being told -- "You're not needed." A few days later, finally a real job! We were told to build a transmitting tower and station for sending information to the backlog of ships waiting to unload supplies.

We were sent to a small town near Le Havre – Sainte Addresse. We later found out it was kind of famous in the last century, for having a lot of painters and writers who lived there.[11] We set up on the coast at Cap de la Hève, where there were German fortifications for coastal guns, troop bunkers, and a very large bomb-proof field hospital. Saw a tank not far away in the woods. There was junk everywhere. Some of it was dangerous, bullets, artillery shells, grenades, and we tossed most of it over the cliff sides into the water. Sometimes we would pull the cord on the grenades before quickly tossing them also!

I found uniforms, belts, insignia, photographs, aftershave, and unopened bottles of Vichy water. The most interesting thing left behind was a German radar unit. We were all over that trying to figure how it worked. We captured boxes of unused German army forms, and used the blank backs for scratch paper, or even to make our own forms. The red colored cardboard like paper with my chow line pass was made from this German paper.

[Above photos, left-to-right, show German radar station, antiaircraft gun, and self-propelled artillery.]

Q. What did you think about Germans in 1944?

I never had a hard opinion about the Germans, but I was going to shoot first if we got into a scrape. There were 20-25 sailors working on this project, including a cook, all under the direction of a Chief Petty Officer, or CPO.[12] We had a truck and jeep assigned to our group, and bivouacked in the former German hospital. At first we were not allowed to have fires, as there were still Germans about.

They probably were fairly far from the coast, but we took this seriously, and set up some defenses, which included strings attached to tin cans set low on the ground. We figured if Germans tried to sneak up to our position at night, the noise would give them away. Wouldn't you know it, me and Fay Butler were on guard duty one night, when we both heard the sound of metal scraping on metal. We took off the safety switch on our carbines, and were ready for action until we heard a long "meow" and saw a cat playing with one of the tin cans. Another minute and we'd have blown that cat to kingdom come! He was certainly the luckiest cat in the world.

We never were attacked, but had plenty to do. The German hospital was a giant concrete affair, with all the entrances designed in a way to channel bomb blasts into unoccupied side rooms. Our first job was to paint out the large red crosses, as to leave them on would imply it was still a hospital, which it was not – a violation of international law. Next we set up very long antennas, and ran into a problem. They needed counter-weights, and we did not have any. The solution was to take German gas mask canisters, which were all over the place and made of aluminum, fill these with concrete, and presto, we had our counterweights. The Navy needed these tall antennas here because you could send far out to sea from Sainte Addresse, but not from Le Havre. We set up 10-12 transmitters in Sainte Addresse.

Q. How did you get along with the French?

These supply problems also resulted from the local French people. They constantly took ropes and wires at night, which screwed up the system. They even cut off large sections of field wire connecting our phones. Sometimes they would cut one rope, leaving three behind, but as you needed all four, we had to redo the entire job. We never felt too angry about this, because they were very poor and often hungry. Their country was torn up, and they needed the rope or wire to bundle up fire wood for the winter. Some of the French kids would come see us during the day, and we shared our food with them. They were not supposed to be fed from our rations, and if an officer caught us, we might have been in trouble. They were allowed to have "table scraps." Our solution was to take gigantic portions we could not possibly eat, thus leaving plenty of "scraps" for the kids. Some were probably orphans, and we were happy to help them. They called our billet the “Maison de Marine.”

Like I said, the whole place was destroyed, and the French were rather poor. You could tell this when you were paid. We didn't get U.S. dollars, but occupation money made just for France. You could not buy much with these special francs, because the French did not have anything to sell.[13]

Q. Did you or your buddies ever "liberate" any German army gear?

That's a different story. Cigarettes were very inexpensive, maybe 5-10 cents per pack at the ship's store. You could easily get two-three cartons at a blow. Now these cigarettes were much more interesting to the French, and they had picked up lots of abandoned German military gear. If you met a Frenchman with a nice Mauser rifle, one, or no more than two cartons of cigarettes would get you that rifle. Next, you'd travel down to the docks in Le Havre. The U.S. ships were unloading fast, and their merchant marine crews were restricted to the dock area near their ship. These guys usually had some money, and were really hot for German military gear. You could sell them a Mauser for $30 to $40, a pretty good profit. For all I know, they sold the same rifle for even more when they returned state-side. I didn't care, as it was a big bonus added to my monthly pay, and allowed me to send extra money back home to my mother. Did this by visiting the Armed Forces Post Office, where you could buy a money order, and that probably clued the officers into what was going on, for a good number of my buddies were doing the same. By the way, I never saw one, but if you could find a P-38, it was worth a lot more.[14] I sold four rifles this way. Some of my buddies did it all the time, and one had a "company" complete with French employees scouring the forests for German gear! This might not have been a good idea, as the officers started asking questions on how we were getting all the extra money.

Q. When you completed the Sainte Addresse project, what happened next?

I started working for Captain Charles Olson, who was in charge of the Le Havre naval base. He had poor wiring for his power connections, and several of us worked our tails off re-wiring the offices for more efficient use of electricity. We never lacked for supplies. I remember one three story warehouse – No. 16 – which had everything you can imagine, and then some. I think you could have built a small city with the supplies stacked up in No. 16. Another neat thing about working in Le Havre was getting to drive in a DUKW – an amphibious truck. These were constantly in use to resupply No. 16, and I noticed almost all the drivers were African-Americans. These were a vital link in the supply chain. The Germans had sunk all kinds of boats near the docks and piers. You simply could not pull up with a big ship. Instead, the DUKW’s would pick up supplies hoisted from the ship, and then move them up ramps to be unloaded into trucks.

Once I was sent out on Le Havre’s sea wall to fix a signal light. There was a ship running parallel to the sea wall, and it hit a German oyster mine. These were activated by pressure, and could be set to explode after “x” number of ships passed over. This one went off, and sank the ship within five minutes. It was carrying soldiers back to England for R&R and I thought this was a real bad break, as they had avoided getting killed at the front, but almost 40 of them died here. It might have been worse, but a British PT boat was right behind the transport, and picked up survivors. I later saw planes fly over the same area emitting powerful magnetic fields in an effort to set off any remaining oyster mines. They were real dangerous, as they lay on the bottom and were hard to detect. I remember seeing the masts of that ship every time it was low tide.

Next I went out to a French Aircraft Carrier, the Béarn, which was having problems with its radio gear. I was on board for 3-4 hours, but could not find a problem. Finally it became clear, the French officers simply did not understand how the gear functioned, and expected it to be the same as what they had before. This was outside my league, so I just reported this to my superiors and let them handle it. Don't get me wrong, the French treated me real well, I obtained cognac from several sources, and it was quite good. This started with the pilot ship that took me to the carrier, and when it took these guys some time to pick me up for return to port, they made up for this with some more rounds afterwards.

Living space was not so good at first. We started in houses that had tarps for roofs until they were fixed. Chow was a mixed bag. I got tired of C-Rations real fast. We did have a cook, and after the supply situation improved, the food got better. I remember he was a very good baker, and we really liked his bread. He married a French girl after the war. Liberty at Le Havre was not too exciting. You'd go to the U.S.O. to play cards, or just walk through >town. We had money, but like I said, there was very little to buy. Some French shop owners were also suspicious of the occupation money we had. I guess they had already had the same given to them by the Germans.

The town was very badly messed up by all the fighting. A sad sight to me always. Sometimes you could take a jeep, and we'd go to Deauville. It was in much better shape. For Deauville, it was always in our dress blues, as it was a ritzy place by our standards. Never liked the back of a jeep, it was hard to fit my tall body in that little space, and I often had to hang on for dear life.

Captain Olson must have liked my work. He asked me to stay on for six months past my discharge, and in return, would jump me into a petty officer's slot and also offered a real good job at the Port of Miami, where he was returning to direct. I wanted to go home, though, and we parted with no hard feelings. He even helped me get back home a little early.

Q. Did you visit other parts of France outside the Le Havre region?

I made several trips to parts of France near Le Havre. Once I visited Fécamp, where the local monastery produces one of the oldest liqueurs still produced - Bénédictine. It only took two hours to get there, and we got a tour, by Catholic nuns, of the distillery, and the chance to sample the products. I still have two little bottles that date from 1944. I also made a short trip to Paris, and was there for Bastille Day in 1945. Also saw the Opera.

Captain Olson once put me on a nice detail. There was a captured U-Boat in Bremerhaven, one of the most recent models. A team of Navy experts were taking it apart to learn its secrets. They needed some supplies, and Captain Olson sent a truck. He told me we could take our time on the way back, meaning if we wanted to see a few places, no problem. We traveled through France and Belgium to make Bremerhaven, and it was a easy job. Roads were in good condition, and you could stop at Army bases for food and fuel. We saw Antwerp and Brussels on the way back.

Q. How did you get back to the States?

This was a very different experience than the trip over to Scotland. I had easy duty, although we did travel through four days of near hurricane weather with an awful lot of sick passengers. On 11 November 1945, we approached New York harbor, and a small carrier pulled up next to the LeJeune. There was a big band playing on deck, dancers, and other live entertainment – a spectacular welcome home on account of it being Armistice Day.

Q. What happened after discharge?

I got back to Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio, where friends put me up for awhile. Then I visited my family in Florida, bought some civilian clothes, looked for work, and rejoined the melting pot. I finally re-connected with Ohio Bell, and my Navy experience helped me get into their brand new mobile radio service.

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Joe Byrd provided all the illustrations from his own collection of newspaper clippings, photos, post cards, Navy manuals, etc. Here are a few of that we could not fit into the main body.

A.] Navy publications, forms, chits, etc…

B.] Sampson News, Vol. I, No. 17 (2 April 1943)…

C.] Le Havre in 1944, from a post card purchased by Joe Byrd.

D.] Joe at work about Le Havre, 1944-1945.

E.] Epaulets from German army uniform "liberated" by Joe Byrd in 1944. Red band indicates an artillery unit. Also a belt buckle worn by most German soldiers with the peculiar combination of a Nazi eagle and the traditional "God is with us."

F.] Possibly Joe Byrd's greatest sacrifice during WW II – an unopened bottle of French brandy he turned over to his daughter. Yes Joe, it is still unopened as of June 2008!

Want to know more about Joe Byrd's Navy? Here are a few web sites and books to get you started…

Bluejacket.com. < http://www.bluejacket.com/>.

Looks at all aspects of U.S. Navy history, but plenty of links to WW II.

Fowle, Barry W. The Reconstruction of Le Havre. http://www.usace.army.mil/publications/eng-pamphlets/ep870-1-42/c-5-2.pdf.

Le Havre was one of the most damaged cities in Western Europe during WW II. This article looks at U.S. efforts to fix the problem.

HyperWar .S. Navy in World War II. < http://www.ibiblio.org/hyperwar/USN/index.html>.

Some very useful articles; still a work in progress.

Samuel Eliot Morison. The Invasion of France and Germany, 1944-1945.

This is Volume 11 of Morison's history of the U.S. Navy during WW II. He is considered one of the great naval historians.

The United States Navy in World War II. Primary Source Documents. < http://www.ibiblio.org/pha/navywwii.html>.

US Navy Construction Battalions (SeaBees) in France and Germany during World War II.

< http://history.navy.mil/library/online/constructfrancegermanyww2.htm#che>.

Maintained by the Naval Historical Center; a detailed look at the critical role of Navy personnel in getting supplies lines running from D- Day to V-E day.

Edited and approved by Pearl Buck Dunn, @2008. All rights reserved, but for a few bags of Greenies, anything is possible…