
Book ReviewTHE LUCKIEST LIBERTY SHIPby Ged Gasperas, Ph.D.1 THE LAST LIBERTY, The Biography of the SS JEREMIAH O’BRIEN, by Capt. Walter W. Jaffee (The Glencannon Press), Hard cover, 490 pp, 100 photos & illustrations, ship plans, wartime extracts, ISBN 0-9637586-0-8, $29.95. Click on the "Available" Button below for the Gift Store, where the book can be purchased.
In a book which details the history, past and present, of the SS Jeremiah O’Brien, Jaffee also provides details of the circumstances which led to Liberty Ships being built, as well as wartime details. A wealth of material is provided via Appendices. The human aspects of serving aboard are also very well presented, with liberal quotations from the crew on everything from food (it was quite good, prepared usually by Chinese cooks), to how it felt to be under fire (it was a terror), to how spare time was passed (a lot of poker, a lot of reading, and some boxing). The Liberty Ships were “built by the mile and chopped off by the yard”. As President Roosevelt said, they were to form a “bridge of ships” across the Atlantic. They were meant to be built quicker than German U-Boats could sink them. Sailing in large numbers in convoys, they were originally designed to supply Great Britain with food, supplies and troops when that country was under siege. Some were even converted to hospital ships. Crossing the North Atlantic could be, and often was, a difficult process. The seas were very often rough, providing ample distress to those on board. In the winter, it was even worse with ice forming almost everywhere on the ship, making walking both difficult and hazardous. At times, the ice was so thick that ships were in danger of capsizing. But the biggest problem was the U-Boats that roamed the Atlantic. Whether singly or in groups known as Wolfpacks, they were there for only one purpose, and that was to sink ships. In the early years of the war, the U-Boats had tremendous success sinking so many ships that Britain faced severe shortages of food and supplies. With the advent of Liberty Ship convoys, protected by destroyers, Germany’s stranglehold was broken. The namesake of the SS Jeremiah O’Brien was a Scots-Irish lumberjack from Maine whose family settled in Machias in 1765. In 1775, at the age of 31, O’Brien was chosen captain of the Unity and while in charge, defeated and commandeered the British ship Margaretta, winning the first naval battle of the Revolutionary War. Outfitted with the arms from the British ship, Unity became an armed cruiser renamed Machias Liberty. O’Brien went on to capture a number of British ships but was himself later captured and sent to prison in Great Britain. He eventually escaped, going first to France and then later back to America at about the time the war was ending. During the War of 1812, when the British threatened to take Machias, O’Brien, now a colonel of advanced years, defiantly brandished his Revolutionary War sword against them. A Liberty Ship was named to honor this tough old bird. The First Voyage Built in a blistering 40 days and launched in South Portland, Maine on June 19, 1943, the SS Jeremiah O’Brien set out about a month later from Boston Harbor as part of her first convoy. There were 23 ships and three escorts, heading first to Halifax, Nova Scotia. The speed was set at eight knots. No lights were allowed and radio silence was enforced. To maintain a distance of 400 yards between the ships was no easy matter, especially when it was pitch black, on heavy seas and in thick fog. Continual adjustments to the speed were necessary to maintain an “arm’s length” between ships, not an easy task when there was very poor visibility. It was a wonder ships did not collide with each other more often.
Typical of most cargo carriers of the time, the SS Jeremiah O’Brien was armed, but relatively lightly. She had two 3 inch cannons and eight 20 mm anti-aircraft guns. Although the majority of seamen manning the ship were non-military—the ship was nominally a part of the Merchant Marine--a Navy crew was always on board to man the guns. After picking up some equipment in Halifax, the O’Brien continued her trip across the ocean, this time as part of a convoy with 32 ships and two escorts. Speed was set at ten knots. Aside from the nerve wracking tension of knowing that she could be attacked at any time, and the general discomfort of sailing in twenty and thirty foot seas, the voyage was uneventful, and the O’Brien arrived in Aultbea, Loch Ewe, Scotland. This occurred on August 5, 1943, and was her first foreign port. A few days later, she was in London at the Victoria Docks discharging her cargo. Shore leave for the sailors was a welcome respite. Some went to visit the sights and others went for less cultural activities. The pubs provided ample fuel for the thirsty seamen (no liquor was officially allowed on board), and there was some trouble with drunken seamen fighting. The cause of the disputes was either arguments, for one reason or another, or, very commonly, women. Some of the British resented the Yanks and were upset that their women were fraternizing. So, in one incident, a brawl ensued with the Yanks getting the worst of it—a radioman was cut up by a knife and a bosun lost an eye because of a piece of glass. One of the participants was given a Dishonorable Discharge, a carton of cigarettes, and a ten-dollar fine and then detached from the ship. Shore leave was cancelled for a while. But shore leave was eventually re-instated, and the results were more peaceful. A type of barter system was set up, and some of the seamen’s comments are telling. One is quoted as saying “Eggs for the girls. They’d do almost anything for fresh eggs. One time I brought some eggs. You had to hard boil them first.” Another is quoted as “After awhile we couldn’t afford to go ashore. I got a bag of lemons from the steward, chicks liked the lemons. Any kind of citrus was scarce. Better than nylons. Citrus fruits. If you brought them ashore in England, you was king. If they was susceptible…” It can be guessed that venereal disease was a significant problem among seamen Other activities were also pursued as is evident from some further quotes. “I did like England ‘cause they spoke our language. The parks were beautiful, with flower decorations. The English people I found to be very good people, very friendly”. “In England they have a lot of history and I like history. I saw a Roman fort in Cardiff and they had a Roman statue there”. And in general, “I got treated good by the English. They were good people”. The return trip to the states was to follow a course over toward Scotland and then west. It was to be more eventful than the first crossing, but the O’Brien was lucky. Sailing close to land as part of a return convoy, crewmembers heard the firing of guns and loud explosions. Although the convoy was not attacked, it turned out that the port of Hull was under air attack. The next day, a loud explosion was heard in the vicinity, bringing everyone to battle stations. It turned out that a minesweeper had detonated a mine directly in front of the O’Brien. The O’Brien was very lucky. A few days later, a periscope was sighted and the escort vessels dropped depth charges. The O’Brien made an emergency turn as the ship’s alarm was sounded. After a while, it was determined that the submarine had been frightened away, and the crew breathed a sigh of relief. Other incidents also occurred. Enemy aircraft were spotted in the area, and battle stations were manned. There was no incident at that time, but two of the boilers were found to be leaking, and the O’Brien had to dock for repairs. Escorts were not available for a single ship, so the O’Brien sailed alone to the Firth of Clyde, Scotland. Again without incident, but sailing alone in hostile waters with no protection must have been very tense. Aside from sailing through the oil slick of a torpedoed ship, a ship which had been forward of the O’Brien’s position--the O’Brien was lucky again!--the ship entered New York City on September 10, 1943. She had survived the crossing and her first voyage was over. Normandy After three more voyages to Britain, the O’Brien was readied to take part in the Normandy invasion. As part of the many thousands of ships that served in the allies’ foothold in France, the O’Brien carried troops, explosives and armored vehicles to Omaha Beach on June 9, 1944. Only three days earlier, Omaha Beach saw the bitterest fighting of any of the landing locations. By the time the O’Brien arrived, the fighting had died down considerably, but she was still attacked by German planes and was frequently peppered with shrapnel. The only casualty however, was a damaged lifeboat. The O’Brien’s luck continued to hold.
A total of four voyages to Omaha Beachhead and an additional seven to the Utah Beachhead were made. Each time, the O’Brien carried supplies and troops, and each time the O’Brien was fortunate. While other ships were strafed by planes and were sunk by mines, the O’Brien was not. There were many scares, to be sure, and the alert to man battle stations was sounded many times, but little damage was sustained from all the shrapnel whizzing through the air. The O’Brien took part in the largest invasion ever, and it was time for her to go back to the United States and proceed to more exotic places. Other Ports of Call The war was not over, but it was clear that the Allies were winning. Still, the O’Brien had a lot of sailing to do, even after the war was already over. In the next 16 months, she would go to, among other places, Chile, Peru, New Guinea, the Philippines, India, China and Australia before ending up in San Francisco. And her luck would hold up.
Going into Mindoro in the Philippines carrying a large load of explosives, the crew of the O’Brien learned that the ship that just preceded it had been hit by a kamikaze. The ship had also been carrying explosives, and when hit, simply disintegrated. Always nervous anyway because they were carrying explosives, this information renewed the crew’s tensions, tensions that were not eased until the cargo was discharged several days later. The ship went to Calcutta, India to load U.S. Army cargo, which it then transported to Shanghai, China. The war was already over, so things were less tense aboard ship. Radio silence was a thing of the past, alerts were rare although danger still roamed in the waters because there were many mines that were still floating about. Still, things were gearing down, and the trip was relatively relaxed. Perhaps the most unusual cargo that the O’Brien carried was on her last voyage from abroad, from Freemantle, Australia to San Francisco. Nine Australian war brides and three of their children were passengers. The nine war brides were married to Navy personnel, and were transported to the states to join their husbands. Some adjustments had to be made, and there was a no fraternization rule in effect (not strictly enforced), but the voyage turned out to be incident free. The presence of women on board the O’Brien made the voyage home quite enjoyable. Playing cards together and chatting let time pass more pleasantly. And since the women liked to sunbathe and the crew had cameras, an additional activity to pass the time was born. From Rust to Renaissance The war was well over, and the O’Brien was in San Francisco Bay. If the Liberty Ships were ever needed again, there was no shortage. Because of the surplus—only about 200 were lost during wartime-- many were sold to other countries such as Greece, Taiwan and Panama. But the O’Brien was scheduled for retention, which means it was preserved in case it ever needed to be called out again. A preservative grease, Cosmoline, was applied to surfaces that would rust, the portholes were left ajar for air circulation, and the O’Brien waited.
The years passed, and it was decided that the old Liberty Ships would no longer be included in future military plans. They were just too slow, and many were sold off for scrap, some eventually ending up as razor blades. In December 1963, retention on the O’Brien was terminated and she was fair game for the scrapyard. She may have ended up there but for a savior, Admiral Thomas J. Patterson. After having inspected all the Liberty Ships in dock, Patterson decided that one of them should become a museum. Since the O’Brien was the best preserved and was all original, he settled on her, and in 1978, the O’Brien was declared a National Monument and placed on the National Register as an historic object. This being done, the work of restoration was started. And it was a labor of love. With a grant and matching amount in services and materials from the volunteers and the maritime community, the O’Brien was able to steam for the first time in 33 years in 1979. These days, about 300 volunteers annually devote their time to the preservation and maintenance of the SS Jeremiah O’Brien, and the ship is in better shape in many ways than it was when it was new. Several times a year, the O’Brien sails around the San Francisco Bay to the delight of all on board. To visit the ship or to take a cruise is to have a close-up view of our history. It is not often that such opportunities still arise, and anyone who can do so is fortunate indeed. The SS Jeremiah O’Brien may not exactly be the last Liberty Ship, but it certainly is the luckiest. "The Last Liberty" will greatly reward any reader with an interest in history, in ships and in the personal details of what it meant it to live in such dangerous and exciting times.
[Ged Gasperas, Ph.D. is an aeronautical engineer and head of DigiDyne, Inc.]
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