We are seeking information on the USS Brackett and her crews. Files and photos may be emailed to usand we will incorporate them into this page. When enough informationhas been assembled we will then build the ship her own section.

U.S.S. Brackett (DE-41)
Date: Sat, 11 Mar 2000
From: William L. Roberts
Rank: EM 2/c
Reported: 1943
Departed: 1945

I am a plank member of the U.S.S. Brackett (DE-41) and its historian. She served in the Pacific during WW-II, Marshall Is., Saipan, Tinian & Guam, Okniawa. I have completed writing the full history of ship.

Anyone interested in specific information may contact me at e-mail address above.

March 1945:

We watch the feathered high level cirrus clouds coming from an easterly quarter of the sky. We are part of the invasion Task Force headed for Okinawa for a big one. Some think we may not come back. Our luck has held on too long. The barometer is rising slightly with clear, dry, hot weather. The wind is shallow - in fact we can hardly feel the breeze, it is so light. Night time comes. There is a halo around the moon, a sure sign of rain. The ship's wake is full of phosphorescent creatures providing an unnatural arrow pointing to the Brackett, we affectionately call "The Old Lady."

The next day's sunset looks like the flag of Japan, the final rays of the sun imaging pointed fingers in the sky. Is this an omen? Another day passes and the ocean appears to be in slight turmoil. Swells are increasing. The bow of the ship raises, then slams into the sea with increasing amounts of water and spray flooding both 3"-50cal guns on the bow. The Quartermaster informs us the barometer is beginning to really fall. The crew expects something, but we know not what.

We watch, with anxiety, the big and little carriers wallowing like ducks in the rising seas. The bows of the battleships and the heavy cruisers raise high in the air and then drop into the sea like submarines going under only to rise again from the trough, repeating the cyclic motion time after time. The heavily loaded oilers are deep in the swells, only parts of the superstructure and masts to be seen from time to time. Sometimes you can't see them at all.

Air becomes onerous, the cross sea is upon us. Old Lady Brackett is laboring - or at least it seems so. But so is the crew. The air is cooling down now, the sky getting very dark. The wind continues picking up, as is the sea. It starts to rain. Waves are higher than the mast of the ship. When we go into a trough, the ship shakes, rattles and rolls. When the bow drops into the sea, the ship shakes and shivers, almost like a dog after a bath.

It is damn scary. Dishes fly off the Mess cooks cupboard. Pots fly through the air. Sandwiches, made instead of meals, are like shingles rushing back and forth on the water covered deck. When some screwball breaks open the hatch, water pours in on top of us.

Are they stupid? Did they hear the "old Man" over the PA system, say not to go out on deck? The screw's whine and we think they are going to spin off as they speed up when the stern of the ship raises out of the sea. This is a Destroyer Escort, she shouldn't be doing this.

The shaking and shivering get worse. Some faces of the crew are alabaster white, a contrast from their dark tan color of yesterday. Is this an invitation to Davy Jones Locker?

All of a sudden the wind calms. There is no wind. Blackened silence. We open the hatch and sneak a peek. The sea is deadly flat. Is this the end of the earth where we drop off?.

Hundreds of birds are flying around all over the place. Some, beat and tired, landing all over our mast, on the gun shields. For a while the sea is calm, then it starts again. The rolling, pitching, shaking, shivering. The trying to hold yourself in your bunk with white knuckles. There has been a couple of times you were tipping, seemingly falling straight down to the bunk, normally level across from you.

The word is out, some men from another ship have gone overboard. Some say it was from an oiler. We also hear that two guys that went over the side were dumped on the deck of a destroyer in back of us. Hurt, but alive. Now the ship is squealing, squeaking and moaning. Steel grinds against steel.

She screams as she buckles and turns.

Hold on "Old Lady" we whisper to ourselves as we silently pray. Please God help us through this mess, cause God, there just ain't no atheist out here.

Carlton Paul EM1/c , our part time barber, works on Stone, while Fox and Levesque await their turn.

Photo 03 First Row: Warren Carmony, Elden Glaesman, Bill Roberts & George Stange
Second Row: Robert Nagle, Steve Halza, Bill Stasch, George Kostak, Maimon Miller,
Gayle McCann & Keith Hall