August 22, 2009
In 1998, I created a Web site relating to the USS Maloy (DE-791).  It was a part of my personal Web site, but it began to get detected by the search engines and soon I was getting emails every week from former shipmates, people with artifacts and photos they wanted to include on the site, and inquiries.  Sometime in 2005, my Internet service provider simply dropped all personal Web sites, saying that he was losing money on them.  I had no advance notice that this was going to happen.  At that time, I was too busy to reconstruct what we had previously had.  The site was dormant but not forgotten.  I apologize for the site's disappearance.

Recently I learned that Google would host sites free of charge.  I am attempting to reconstruct the old Maloy Web site here, on Google Sites.  Please bear with me as I gradually locate and post all the "stuff" our good shipmates sent me.
                                                           Bob Mead, last Executive Officer of USS Maloy, 1964-65

The Man
Thomas Joel Maloy, born 26 September 1906 in Portland, Oregon, enlisted in the Navy 30 September 1926.  On 13 November 1942, in action off Guadalcanal, Chief Watertender Maloy’s ship, light cruiser ATLANTA (CL-51), was torpedoed and went dead in the water. After ordering his crew to abandon number one fireroom, Maloy remained at his station struggling to stem the rapid flooding of the area.  Compelled to leave the compartment, he proceeded to the forward engineroom to investigate conditions there.  He perished in this heroic attempt to save the ship.  He was posthumously awarded the Navy Cross for his heroism during the Guadalcanal campaign.  MALOY (DE-791) was laid down by Consolidated Steel Corporation, Orange, Texas, 10 May 1943; launched 18 August 1943; sponsored by Mrs. Thomas J. Maloy, widow of Chief Watertender Maloy; and commissioned 13 December 1943, Lt. Frederic D. Kellogg in command.

          The Ship

USS MALOY (DE-791) spent her entire World War II service with the Atlantic Fleet.  On her first assignment she escorted troop transports to the Panama Canal and screened an escort carrier back to the east coast.  Then in early March 1944, she crossed the Atlantic to Northern Ireland and until June conducted amphibious training along the English coast in preparation for the invasion of France.

Maloy shown as she appeared during the Normandy Invasion.  This photo was saved by a plankowner, Joseph Mason Swick, and his grandson, Jeremy Porter, and only recently (1998) surfaced.

On D-Day, 6 June 1944, MALOY supported operations off Omaha Beach in this hard-fought assault where naval gunfire support played a decisive role in victory.  She continued to patrol off the Normandy coast and among the Channel Islands for the remainder of the war, raiding enemy shipping whenever possible.  With the capitulation of Germany 8 May 1945, she escorted the first convoy to reenter St. Peter Port, Guernsey, Channel Islands.  The destroyer escort then returned to the United States, arriving 18 June 1945.

The following May, MALOY commenced working for Operational Development Force, New London Detachment, and was redesignated EDE-791, 14 August 1946.  For the next 18 years MALOY played a large role in the ever-changing Navy, primarily testing and evaluating experimental equipment in connection with various projects of the Underwater Sound Laboratory.  While testing the new equipment, MALOY continued to fulfill regular duties, which included service as a school and training ship for the Fleet Sonar School at Key West, and participated in antisubmarine warfare, convoy and other fleet exercises.

Maloy shown sometime after she was fitted out with variable depth sonar used in underwater research.

During this time she also successfully completed emergency assignments.  At Portland, Maine, 11 November 1947 to 25 March 1948, MALOY provided electrical power for the city when, because of extreme drought conditions, local power companies could not draw on their normal power source, the lakes and rivers of the area.  In May and June 1961, she cruised off the Dominican Republic to provide, if necessary, protection for American citizens during the revolution in that country.  And the following year she provided support for the Cuban quarantine of October-November.

For the next 2 years, MALOY continued her test and evaluation assignments.  She was decommissioned at Philadelphia 28 May 1965 and was struck from the Navy list 1 June 1965.  On 11 March 1966, she was sold to the North American Smelting Company of Wilmington, Delaware, for scrap.

MALOY received one battle star for World War II service.

-- From the 'Dictionary of American Naval Fighting Ships,' (1969) Vol. 4, pp.207-208.
Transcribed by Michael Hansen

This page is dedicated to the memory of the Maloy shipmates who are no longer with us.

Once I Was a Navy Man

I like the Navy. I like standing on deck on a long voyage 
with the sea in my face and ocean winds whipping in from 
everywhere -- the feel of the giant steel ship beneath me, 
it's engine driving against the sea.
I like the Navy. I like the clang of steel, the ringing 
of the bell, the foghorns and strong laughter of Navy men 
at work. I like the ships of the Navy -- nervous darting 
destroyers, sleek cruisers, majestic battleships and 
steady solid carriers.
I like the names of the Navy ships: Midway, Hornet, 
Enterprise, Sea Wolf, Iwo Jima, Wasp, Shangri-La, Tidewater and 
Constitution -- majestic ships of the line.
I like the bounce of Navy music and the tempo of a Navy 
Band, "Liberty Whites" and the spice scent of a foreign port.
I like shipmates I've sailed with . . . the kid 
from the Iowa cornfield, a pal from New York's Eastside, 
an Irishman from Boston, the boogie boarders of California, 
and of course a drawling friendly Texan.  From all parts 
of the land they came -- farms of the Midwest, small 
towns of New England -- from the cities, the mountains 
and the prairies.  All Americans, all are comrades in arms. 
All are men of the sea.
I like the adventure in my heart when the ship puts out 
to sea, and I like the electric thrill of sailing home 
again, with the waving hands of welcome from family and
friends waiting on shore. The work is hard, the going 
rough at times, but there's the companionship of robust 
Navy laughter, the devil-may-care philosophy of the sea.
And after a day of hard duty, there is a serenity of the 
sea at dusk, as white caps dance on the ocean waves. The 
sea at night is mysterious. I like the lights of the 
Navy in darkness -- the masthead lights, and red and 
green sidelights, and stern light. They cut through the 
night and look like a mirror of stars in darkness. There 
are quiet nights and the quiet of the mid-watch when the 
ghosts of all the sailors of the world stand with you. 
And there is the aroma of fresh coffee from the galley.
I like the legends of the Navy and the men who made them. 
I like the proud names of Navy heroes: Halsey, Nimitz, 
Perry, Farragut, and John Paul Jones. A man can find much 
in the Navy -- comrades in arms, pride in a country. A 
man can find himself.
In years to come, when the sailor is home from the sea, 
he will still remember with fondness the ocean spray on 
his face when the sea is angry. There will still come a 
faint aroma of fresh paint in his nostrils, the echo of 
hearty laughter of the seafaring men who once were close 
. Locked on land, he will grow wistful of his Navy days, 
when the seas belonged to him and a new port of call was 
always over the horizon. Remembering this, he will stand 
taller and say, "ONCE I WAS A NAVY MAN."

 -- Author Unknown,  Contributed by Captain James E. Fernandes, USN, Retired, the last Commanding Officer of the USS Maloy