There have been countless stories over the years, both fictional and factual, about World War II. Some of these have been sweeping novels that have taken liberties with well known periods of history while others have focused on specific events, places or battles. In the following pages the author will attempt to combine lesser known events and factual happenings with a unique group of colorful characters. While the main characters in the story are fictional, their spirit and the importance of their deeds represent the attitude and actions of the day. Duty, honor and patriotism. More importantly it tells a story that needs to be told.
This story is inspired by actual events in the life of a real individual, my father. The decision to write this book comes from a love of history and a quest to learn more about my Dad's participation in this period of time. How the events of the day affected and motivated Dad to enlist, his perspective of war before, during and after was rarely, if ever shared.
The things that happen to the main characters in the story are pure fiction and any similarities to real or actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Like the main character in the story, my father dropped out of college to enlist in the Navy after learning of his older brother's death while serving on the USS Atlanta. After completing Motor Torpedo Boat (MTB) training in Melville, Rhode Island, he was assigned to MTB Squadron 24, also known as Ron24. MTB's were also commonly referred to as PT Boats and their squadrons were deployed to all corners of the globe. This story has its focus in the South Pacific.
PT Boats were 80 feet in length, constructed of laminated wood, and capable of reaching speeds of 45 knots…..under ideal conditions. In reality these “ideal conditions” almost never existed. In the early years of the war, most especially in the Pacific, advance PT bases were few and far between. Forced to operate with extremely limited spare parts or equipment for servicing the boats, it wasn’t uncommon for a boat to loose an engine or two at the most inopportune times. If the boats could reach and maintain speeds over 30 knots, the men considered themselves fortunate. This is significant to note when one also considers that the Japanese destroyers and cruisers of the day were capable of speeds of over 35 knots and had very long range firepower.
While pound for pound the PT’s were the most heavily armed ships in any navy, they were easily damaged and the crew had minimal protection when at station on deck. Yet they regularly engaged the enemy when outnumbered and outgunned, with dramatic results. A typical Squadron was comprised of 10-12 boats but due to the challenges of keeping the boats “in the water” and to keep from becoming over-exposed, a typical patrol included only 2-3 boats. By war’s end 44 squadrons had been commissioned for service primarily in the Atlantic, Mediterranean, South Pacific and the waters of the Aleutian Islands with a total of over 550 PT’s.
In the Pacific, the PT’s patrolled shallow and uncharted waters, and as dangerous as it was to lose a boat to enemy fire, more PT’s were destroyed intentionally by our own Navy than by the enemy. This was usually due to boats becoming stuck on one of the countless uncharted reefs. Patrolling at night with no radar made this a common occurrence. Too near to enemy shores to safely be recovered, an accompanying boat would pickup the personnel and set the boat afire. Often done within range of enemy snipers, shore batteries and enemy planes, this brings a new meaning to the word “vulnerability”...like ducks on a pond.
The men themselves were truly unique. To give the reader an idea of the mindset of a typical PT Boater, nearly 100% were enlisted. The Mosquito Fleet, as the PT Boat service was affectionately referred, had tougher physical and academic qualifications than the regular Navy Service. Lastly, the men strongly believed in what they were doing and that it needed to be done, in spite of the potential costs. Like many war veterans, my father spoke very little of his personal experiences of service spanning 3 years and 9 days. It is with much pride, I humbly dedicate this book to my late Father, William Henry Swick, QM2c V6 USNR, (6/3/22 – 3/27/90).