I Dennis R. York was born 24 July 1946, at Watertown, South Dakota. My hair was brown and my eyes are hazel. I enlisted in the navy at Sioux Falls, South Dakota 8 August 1963, and went to boot camp in San Diego, California. On 25 November 1963, I reported on board USS FRANK E. EVANS (DD 754) to 1 Division. I was a Boatswain Mate Striker.
Dennis currently resides at 709 1 St. SW., Watertown, SD, 57201- st 4714. You can reach him at 605-880-0287.
I Ken Thrailkill “Killer” was born 2 June 1943, at Colorado Springs, Colorado. My hair was brown, my eyes are blue. I enlisted in the Navy at Colorado Springs in September 1960
I had an
“Killer” currently resides at 118 E. Laura Lane, Knoxville, Iowa. You can reach him at kthrailkill@co.marion.ia.us or 641-842-4592 (home) or 641-828-2244 (business) or 641-891-5922 (cell).
I “Steve,” was born on a farm east of Bremen, Ohio, 26 June 1941. My hair and eyes were brown. I entered the Navy 12 August 1958, at Lancaster, Ohio and went to San Diego for recruit training because Great Lakes was closed for renovation. I was in Company 492
I joined the Navy to be a pilot via the Silver Eagles program but as you can see I wasn’t even close. My first ship was USS DEHAVEN (DD 727). I made Westpac cruises on her as well as put her through FRAM at Hunters Point Naval Shipyard, San Francisco. After 3+ years in her, I reenlisted for BT “B” school in Philadelphia. After graduating in February 1962 I received orders for USS FRANK E. EVANS (DD 754). I was a happy puppy to be going back to the 2200 ton destroyers.
As BT2 JERRY L. STEPHENSON, I was aboard USS FRANK E. EVANS for about nine months in 1962. I was assigned to “B” Division. Prior to departing for Westpac, all of the ORI drills for the steam plant, as well as the rest of the ship, had been conducted. During a full power run, the fuel oil heaters in the forward fireroom blew a gasket resulting in a fuel spill and a stop bell. I was assigned After Fireroom. Of
FRANK E. EVANS departed for Westpac in June 1962. During the deployment, while tied up
I eventually went to Nuclear Power school, stayed as an Instructor and then spent over four years on board USS LONG BEACH (CGN 9), including Vietnam deployments. My last ship was USS SPIEGEL GROVE LSD-32 out of Little Creek, Virginia. I had numerous Caribbean and Mediterranean cruises to go along with the Westpac tours.
I retired as a BTC with 22 years service, with 12 years active and 10 years reserve. I then spent the rest of my working life as a Stationary Engineer and a Boiler Inspector.
Currently, Jerry L. Stephenson, BTC USN Retired resides at 2340 Pumpkinvine Road SE, Lancaster, Ohio 43130-8010. You can reach him at JerryDD727@aol.com or by phone at Home 740-569-1053, or his Cell 740-503-2073.
Memories of USS FRANK E. EVANS (DD 754) returned to me as my wife and sons toured USS LAFFEY (DD 724) at Patriots Point in Charleston about seven years ago. This was my first time on a destroyer since that night of June
After one final walk through the ship, I slowly started back toward the prow that led to the pier where reality starts again. I had to stop and look back one more time, for I was sure I heard a voice from the past call out, “Get a haircut
As we walked the decks of this old destroyer, memories had started flowing from somewhere in the back of my mind where I had buried them so long ago. This day is not a day for selfish thoughts so I turned my remembrances to the crew, ports, and pleasant things and this is what I wrote. I remember USS FRANK E. EVANS in Long Beach shipyard so far out on the mole that we had to take the old raggedy Navy bus out to her.
I remember EVANS in the shipyard covered with the orange and yellow primer and soon
I remember my first rack, top bunk under the 1MC loud speaker. When reveille was sounded the next morning, I jumped up and hit my head on one of the overhead pipes.
Then there were the short cold showers, the distinct stench of the scullery, and standing fire watches for the civilian welders as they transformed our old tin can into a superior fighting ship.
I remember how amazed I was to see EVANS in dry dock with no water to float her. Then the first time we went out past the breakwater, which would determine if I was going to be
I remember the calm beauty of the sea, but I couldn’t comprehend how angry and deadly it could get. I feared the lightning storms and the concern of the restless waves that washed up on the bridge and drenched all of us on watch.
I remember our cruise to Hawaii and taking bearings of Diamond Head for the XO. One of the greatest
and most humbling experiences was the manning the rails in dress whites with an appreciated and
reverend salute to USS ARIZONA and all who perished that December day.
The Post Office where I handed out the mail, the only links we had to love ones back home and how frustrated and angry I was when I learn that our mail had been
I remember the glorious
I remember the big five-inch guns blasting away at the coastline of Vietnam and then at night firing illuminating shells so the Marines could see to continue their battle. That’s when I moved to a lower bunk because my top rack was filled with paint chips and asbestos dust.
I remember buying the Tonkin Gulf Yacht Club patch to go on my work jacket with the other patches as a map of memories to all the places I had been.
Then there was an oyster I purchased in Japan that was guaranteed to have a pearl growing in it; a material reminder from King Solomon that God has treasures hidden all over his beautiful earth. I sent it back home to my
I remember how lonely Christmas was as we sat gazing at the decorated tree with festive holiday music tenderly playing in the background. Even though the adorned mess decks were crowded, it was unusually quiet throughout. No one was talking, and we all wondered if our family would think of us during this special season. I overheard Melvin softly whisper, “Happy Birthday Jesus!” God, we were so young and innocent.
I remembered how awful it was the first time we ran out of milk and eggs and went to powered, but then I remember how good ice cream was and how enjoyable the weekly “Star Trek” and “Mission Impossible” TV series could be.
Learning new card games from friends on the mess decks. I didn’t realize then, but we were becoming more than just friends; we were an elite Destroyer Family.
Finally, I remembered my last evening aboard EVANS, a new movie on the mess decks, then laughing, talking and playing cards in a
Life on a small ship like our destroyer goes deep in your blood, and of all the men aboard, I hate that I can remember so few, especially on this Memorial Day when as the postal clerk, I should be able to remember everyone onboard USS FRANK E. EVANS. I don’t want to spoil it by forgetting any crew member especially one of the 74, for this is their day.
On the 3rd day of every June, I’ll be up early to pay my respects. I’ll be up late remembering. SALUTE!
After completing RM “A” school in November 1964, I
We were running a port & starboard watch. I had showered, shaved, and was ready to head for the chow line. I chose to go
Needless to say, I next heard, “General Quarters,” (twice) “All hands man your battle station… This is not a drill…
The year 1966; location Taiwan Straits; area between mainland China and the island of Taiwan. We’d been on the Taiwan patrol for almost two weeks. The captain is “upset” to put it
Mid-watch 24 September 1966, I’m called to the teletype to witness an amazing happening. “Look at this Rodman,” it’s a message from the Red Cross informing me of the birth of our first baby, a healthy girl. Every number and letter is in its proper location, a perfect receipt of “Traffic.”
Well! Damn! The “old man” wants to see immediately all messages that are decipherable. I call the bridge, reluctantly, to let Capt. Hanson know I’m coming up with “A” just received
I put the message on the routing board and I’m off to the bridge. It’s a beautiful night, calm sea, clear, lots of stars. He’s waiting for me and says, “Let’s see what you’ve got there Rodman.” I hand him the board, he reads the message, smiles and says, “You know what this is Rodman?! This is divine intervention. Congratulations!”
Tom and his wife Sandy celebrated 42 years of marriage and currently reside at 10849 Prescott Road in Licking, Missouri 65542. That’s in the Ozarks where Tom built a log home from trees cut on the property using the Scandinavian scribe method. You can reach him at tjsjrodman@yahoo.com or 573-674-4449.
I Steven Thomas Painter was
I remember the day JFK was shot, 22 November 1963. We were about a day out of Yokosuka, Japan. All the crew were stunned.
The electricians were restricted to the ship when in Hong Kong because the dress ship lights were not completed. Everyone was unhappy about that.
I just got done reading Jo Stephenson’s book, “In the Wake.” Wow, what a story!
Submitted by Andrew (Joe) Mulitsch MMFN
As a new Fireman (MMFN), I was ordered to report in early February 1969, to USS FRANK E. EVANS (DD 754),
I was then introduced to the forward engine room (Main Control) where I worked and stood my watches. Work generally consisted of chipping, wire brushing, and painting the various pieces of machinery, mostly pumps that fed the boilers, usually the forward fire room. Our turbines turned the starboard screw to propel the ship. We also made electricity for the ship and distilled fresh water for the boilers and the crew to drink and shower. Since I was an MMFN striker, with school, I was sometimes allowed to pack a valve under close supervision by one of the petty officers. Mostly, I found myself in the bilges cleaning and painting.
FRANK E. EVANS was an old proud ship from WWII, Korea, and now she was going back to Vietnam. Shortly after I went aboard, we departed for a short 10-day shakedown cruise that introduced me to seasickness. I always was able to make the adjustment within a day or two although it has really never gone away as my subsequent exploits at sea have continued to remind me. A week or so after our little excursion up and down the California coast we left for Pearl Harbor en route to the western Pacific, (WESTPAC) – Vietnam.
I remember being in Pearl. We mustered one morning to be entertained by WWII Zero replicas diving at a mock-up of the Pearl fleet as it was on 7 December 1941. We found out later, they were filming the epic, “TORA, TORA, TORA.” After refuelling and reprovisioning, we set off to Yokosuka, Japan, then on to Subic Bay in the Philippine Islands; more fuel and food. During these excursions there was liberty. Time off to leave the ship for free time to yourself. As a healthy 19-year-old male, I found out how to drink and have a great time ashore as all sailors do.
We had anchored just off the coast one day after doing some firing, when all of a sudden, there were splashes with loud reports along the shoreline. We were immediately called to general quarters. After a few minutes, it was determined that the U. S. Army was over-shooting
Every day or two we put out to sea for underway replenishment. We took on fuel, food, and ammo from the supply ship. This evolution required an all hands
After our stint on the gun line, we went back to Manila and joined forces with many SEATO countries with many more ships. Australia provided the aircraft carrier for this exercise and show of force, HMAS MELBOURNE. We had met some of the Australian Sailors while on liberty in Manila. I was thankful for my tutorial on drinking and put my limited previous experience to good use. I now knew I was not going to die, it was just a hangover.
I remember being on deck as we slid effortlessly through the serene waters of the South China Sea. Beautiful! A moonlit night and everything was good. We were scheduled to be in Thailand in a few days and we were all looking forward to some great, well earned, liberty. It was about 2200. Since I had the midwatch (0000-0400), and my 19-year-old logic told me I needed some sleep, I retired.
My watch on 3 June 1969, was supposed to have been the messenger. On that morning I asked the lower level watch, MM3 Roy Peters, to trade watches so I could get the necessary experience to become qualified for that position. Everything went well. Around 0300, Peters went aft to wake the next watch and he sent me forward to wake up the chief for the next watch, 0400-0800. Chief’s berthing was all the way forward. I woke up Chief Vernon Cash and returned to the engine room and took more temperature and pressure readings on the equipment in my area on the lower level. There were six of us in Main Control with Boiler Tender Chief Senior Macayan in charge, Fireman Bob Lockwood was on throttles, Fireman Terry (Boot) Baughman was on the evaporators, Fireman Michael Peacock was the electrician on the switchboard, MM3 Roy Peters had the messenger assignment and I, MMFN Andrew (Joe) Mulitsch, was on the lower level.
The watch was nearly over. I had just completed work on my log sheet when I decided to go up to the upper level. It was some time after 0310. I grabbed the ladder with one foot on the bottom rung. All at once the ship rose up and the lights went out! Water began rushing in from everywhere. I was swept up in the darkness, under the water with whatever last breath I had taken. My mind was working with so many thoughts simultaneously. I was looking for the hole where the ladder went up and onto the upper level. I was looking for an air pocket where I could get more breath, all the while thinking of what my family would think about me being gone, my girlfriend, what happened?
I had nearly met my limit and was resigned to die. There seemed to be some strange sort of peace and a bright light, oxygen deprivation, I suppose. Woosh! I popped up through the surface of the water. I got a breath! I felt exhilarated and calm all at the same time! The surroundings were all black. The loud sounds of the engine room had given way to some sobbing and whines of pain. There was a slight hissing sound and the air was dank with the smell and taste of steam. I immediately began looking up for the hatch and an escape from what I did not know. I did know there was a battle lantern at the top of the hatch. There it was, a faint, dim brown beam of light across the hatch at the top of the ladder. Unfortunately, the ladder was gone. I knew there was a handheld lantern there as well. I yelled out, “Here it is, here is the way out!” I tried to get to that handheld lantern by climbing up and grabbing a pipe. It was a hot steam line and immediately released it from my grasp. I then found an adjacent compressed air line that provided a secure hand hold. As I got mid-thigh out of the water and was rising up towards the hatch, I felt a tug on my belt. I was pulled back into the water. I turned and grabbed my anxious shipmate and pushed him ahead of me. We both struggled. He rolled out on the deck. I recognized it was the Chief. He was disconsolate. I momentarily tried to bring him to his senses but to no avail. I turned around. There stood Michael Peacock, the electrician. He was smiling. I’ll never for
I’ve lived with this over and over in my head for so many years. I am sharing it one more time. I now understand many things beyond my grasp then and out of my control now. I was 19 years old then and searching for my niche in life. I was fortunate and finally got it together later rather than sooner. How does one measure survival? Why was I spared when just a few feet away so many of my shipmates died? Everyone I ate dinner with that night perished. Two of them were young officers, Ensigns, that
I went to Australia for the 40 memorial. There I met many Australians who were also still deeply affected by this truly tragic event that occurred so many years and so many lives ago. I always thought the Australians were the true heroes that night. They did so much to save many lives and have carried the heavy burden of the lives of our 74 that were lost.
I cannot understand the recalcitrance of our own government to acknowledge the event for what it was: 74 lives lost during the Vietnam conflict; 74 sailors who gave the ultimate sacrifice while on the station as ordered.
In the last 42 years, the government, the
I attended the funeral of
I Earl W. Marchbanks was born 13 March 1934, at Columbus, Georgia. My hair is
My first duty station was USS KULA GULF (CVE 108), then USS ROBERT L WILSON (DD 847), and then USS SIERRA (AD 18). On 17 April 1963, I came aboard USS FRANK E. EVANS (DD 754) where I was assigned to “S” Division as a Commissaryman. My experiences would take a very long time to tell with all the memories I have of FRANK E. EVANS. A
Doc Wilson (corpsman) and I talked a lot on the mess deck. Some of the guys kept taking pies. One night Doc said we will find out who was doing it. So ‘ole Doc laced the pies with red
While on board FRANK E. EVANS we won the award “Best Feeding Ship In The U. S. Navy,” the only ship of this size to ever reach this accomplishment. We also won “Navy Cake Bake 1964″ for originality.
My years in FRANK E. EVANS gave me good memories. I cooked lots of meals, baked lots, and most of all had very good friends.
Along the
Earl and Marie currently reside at 5171 Seminole Road, Richland, GA 31905. You can reach them at home:229-887-9893; business: 706- 682-1021 Ext 24; or cell: 706-577-9790.
It was with heartfelt sadness that I learned today of our beloved shipmate Tom Manley’s passing this morning (Saturday, Feb 9, 2008). Tom’s son Christopher called me at noon to inform me of his fathers passing. Tom had not been ill and had not been in poor health. Mary woke up in the middle of the night and found Tom on the floor. This is all the information we have at this time. Information on the services will be forthcoming sometime early in the upcoming week.
Tom was a
A loved one that has finished their life on earth is not dead,
