In December 1941 Joseph A. Groden was a twenty-three year old Navy Ensign serving aboard the destroyer U.S.S. Henley (DD 391), home ported at Pearl Harbor, Territory of Hawaii. He graduated from Boston College in 1940 and, upon completion of the V-7 Navy Officer Candidate School at Northwestern University in March 194, was commissioned an Ensign, U.S.N.R.
While the United States Navy fought an undeclared war against German U-boats in the Atlantic, life in Hawaii aboard the Henley was very peaceful. Little did Joe realize that he would soon be defending himself and his ship against one of the most “infamous” deeds of his generation at Pearl Harbor and soon thereafter fighting to save the lives of his shipmates off the coast of New Guinea.
A native of Cambridge, Massachusetts, and one of ten children, Joe’s parents had died when he was a teen. In spite of the loss of their parents, the children, some grown, others still youngsters, remained together in their parent’s large Victorian home on Garfield Street. Joe and his younger ones were raised and educated by their older brothers and sisters who were young doctors, lawyers, and teachers. After graduating from Boston College, and not planning on military service, Joe took a job with the International Paper Company in Maine.
In the spirit of watching out for him, one of the Joe’s older brothers, John, a Boston attorney, and later an Operations Officer for a torpedo squadron on the U.S.S. Enterprise, called Joe in Maine on his birthday. In what was ostensibly a “Happy Birthday” call, John said that the draft bill before the U.S. Congress would likely pass and that Joe ought to quickly consider applying for one of the new navy officer programs. John believed that having spent many hours sailing off the Atlantic coast, Joe would probably be happier in the navy than the army.
Leaving the International Paper Company for Joe was difficult because jobs for recent college
graduates were very scarce. But, he heeded his older brother’s advice, and shortly thereafter, took the qualifying midshipman’s physical at the Boston Navy Yard. Within a few weeks he received an appointment as a midshipman on the battleship U.S.S. New York (BB-34) that was sailing north to Boston from New York City, then south to the Caribbean before returning.
After successfully completing the midshipman’s cruise, Joe reported in December 1940 to the V-7 Officer Candidate Program at Northwestern University in Chicago. After 90 days of saluting, marching, and classes in naval subjects he received his commission as an Ensign, United States Navy Reserve along with orders to the U.S.S. Henley, a Pacific Fleet destroyer, based at Pearl Harbor.
Was the Henley a new ship?
The U.S.S. Henley was built in the late 1930s and one of only eight in her class. I believe this was a limited construction class due to a flaw in the design of the ships. In addition to having just a single stack design, the naval architects bestowed two quadruple mounts on the starboard side and two quadruple mounts to the port. They believed that it was a great idea on the main deck to have these sixteen torpedoes, primed, and ready to fire. The theory was that the Henley and the other seven ships of her class would fire the starboard quadruple mounts first at an enemy and then do a fast 180 degree turn and fire the port quadruple mounts aft at the same target.
Obviously, the naval architects had never been to sea themselves because, if they had, they would have realized that a destroyer traveling at flank speed of 36 or 37 knots and turning 180 degrees would heel over to such an extent that the portside torpedoes would have been fired at the seabed rather than on a horizontal plane. Fortunately, in all the combat we saw, we never had to fire all 16 torpedoes at one time.
Were you the junior Ensign when you reported aboard the Henley?
I was the day I reported aboard. There was another V7 Ensign aboard who was senior to me. His name was Sparkman. He later became the ship’s gunnery officer. When he was transferred off the hip, I assumed his duties as gunnery officer.
When did the Henley arrive at Pearl Harbor?
After I came aboard the ship at Bremerton, we sailed to Long Beach and then to San Diego where we picked up the Division Commander. He had been in San Diego at the naval base while the Henley was in Bremerton's Navy Yard. We arrived in Pearl in early April, 1941.
Wasn't the Pacific Fleet originally based in San Pedro?
Yes, it was. And Pearl Harbor was where the Commander-in-Chief, United States Pacific Fleet
(CINCUSPAC) had his headquarters too. That’s an interesting abbreviation because if you
pronounce the abbreviation phonetically it's "SINK US". Not too surprisingly, shortly after December 7th, the abbreviation was quickly changed to CINCPAC.
Did the ship travel to Pearl Harbor alone?
Yes, but only part of the way. It was kind of interesting. We were escorting the carrier U.S.S. Enterprise commanded by “Bull” Halsey. Well, when we were halfway to Pearl Harbor, Halsey ran up a signal stating, “The uniform of the day will be black pants and white jackets.” I believe this was due to the fact that one wore a blue uniform on the mainland, but at Pearl Harbor and the other areas of the Pacific you usually wore a white uniform. Halsey ran up this oddball uniform, which was not official, and, of course, we looked like mess attendants, wearing black pants with a white top of ‘em. This was such an annoyance to CDR. L.B. Austin, our commander of Division Seven, and, by the way, one of the nicest guys I ever met in the Navy, that he logged himself on the sick list so he wouldn’t have to wear that uniform. As a result, he just stayed in his suite of rooms in the main deck. He was an old time Navy line officer and really a terrific guy. I saw a lot of him because one of my first assignments, besides being wardroom mess treasurer and laundry officer, I was also one of the ship’s communications officers.
As a communications officer I was taught to operate a secret decoding machine. It had four rollers inside and you’d type up a message in English under a certain code, which changes every 24 hours, and then it comes out the other end of the machine all encoded. Or, you can reverse it and type up an encoding message that was top secret or something and as long as you had all the pin settings right it would automatically type up the English translation of the encoded message. I spent an
awful lot of time using it because I was the only one knew how to operate it aboard ship.
What was the mood at Pearl Harbor in the months prior to the attack?
As a communications officer I read most of the incoming messages. Plus, we had a Division
Commander embarked on the Henley so we received all kinds of top-secret messages for only
Division Commanders and above. The machine was in a little room off the Division Commander’s
stateroom. As a result of the room’s location I was in close contact with the Division Commander.
However, the attitude of most of the people was pretty relaxed. For example, all senior officers left
the ship at 1600 hrs. Friday and nobody saw them again until Monday morning at Quarters.
I can remember one particularly long message that I decoded way back in August of ’41. Two or
three consulate offices in the Far East created a joint encoded Top Secret message that announced
that the Japanese were withdrawing their entire merchant shipping from all foreign ports. It was
kind of interesting then because, I, not being as experienced or jaded as everyone else, was very
interested and said “Hey, we should look into this,” but not much was done. The senior officers
still left the ship every weekend and danced every Saturday night at the Officers’ Club. No one
appeared more concerned or alert than before. It was as though everything was happening as it
always had.
Did you live aboard ship while in port at Pearl Harbor?
Yes, I always stayed aboard ship. I’d go ashore on Saturday or Sunday, depending on whether I had
the duty or not. I would go to Waikiki and swim all day. I had a friend, a fellow Ensign, from
Worcester, MA, who was quite well off. His father owned a lead company or something and he
made the mistake of making his son treasurer of this company. As a result, this friend, whose name
was Jim Baker, would rent a cottage every weekend at the Halekalani Hotel. He would have this
big bar all set up and everybody would come to these parties, and, of course, he was paying for it
all with checks drawn on his father’s company. It was pretty nice and we became good friends
because we both from Massachusetts. He was a graduate of Harvard. He was about four years
older than I and we became life long friends until he passed away several years ago.
How did you spend Saturday, December 6th?
I didn’t do anything unusual. I had the 24-hour duty as Officer of the Deck in Port beginning at
1200 hrs. Saturday. Prior to reporting for the watch I read some simple things, picked up my mail,
etc. So I was just doing odds and ends until I took over the watch from the guy who had it the day
before. He promptly jumped in his civies and left the ship for the weekend.
We were moored alongside the U.S.S. Ralph Talbot and the U.S.S. Patterson over in East Loch. It
had been arranged that one Officer of the Deck would fill in for the other two so that no one had to
remain on duty for more than four hours. That Saturday night being “movie night” the Chief
Bosun’s Mate on the Henley had erected a canopy over the afterdeck so we could show the movie.
It was “Charlie Chan in San Francisco” In black and white… I’ll never forget that movie as long as
I live.
I drew the midnight to 0400 hrs. watch on the three ships. I had dinner with two of the fellows in
the wardroom that night. I then made my rounds to make sure the watch was all right. I checked our
own gangway watch and bridge watch. I checked the moorings of each of the ships, fore and aft, to
see if their sentries were posted and at least half-awake. I turned over the watch at 0345 hrs. and
told the gangway watch to wake me at 0730 hrs so I could throw on my uniform and go out for
Colors at 0800 hrs.
When did you first sense the attack was underway?
I was asleep for about 2½ hours when I suddenly heard the General Quarters alarm go off. I was
completely amazed. I threw on the top of my uniform and pulled on my pants over my pajamas. I
still had my slippers on as I ran out of my cabin through the wardroom, onto the main deck, and out
to the Quarterdeck where I saw this sailor by the name of Don Wilson.
He was a 3rd Class Torpedoman, and he had come on duty early to enable the sailor on the earlier
watch to go to breakfast. He was supposed to ring five gongs on the gas alarm with single buzzers.
It was Sunday, and nobody had to do any work, so he was busy chatting with all the guys around
there, and telling ‘em what a great time he had the previous night in Honolulu. Apparently he was
so busy with his big story that he rang General Quarters instead of the watch change. Anyway,
when I got to the Quarterdeck, he said “Oh, sorry Mr. Groden! Sorry! I rang the wrong alarm!”
Aboard ship, even though you know it’s a mistake, when General Quarters sounds, you must man
your battle stations, bring the ammunition up on deck, turn the main engine over, and single up all
lines. Meanwhile, the sailors from the U.S.S. Ralph Talbot and the U.S.S. Patterson were ridiculing
our guys because they knew it was a mistake. It was a bright sunny day, not a cloud in the sky, not
an enemy in sight.
And I’m yelling at this fellow Wilson, I said, “What in the hell have you done? You made us look
like damn fools to the whole harbor! Tell Anglen (a signalman) to run up a hoist that DD391 was
exercising at drills—at least we won’t look stupid! And you, forget your Liberty Card for the next
couple of weeks…” That was just before 0800 hrs.
Just then we heard this loud noise. There was this plane approaching from the bow of our ship and
running down the portside of the ship at eye level. It looked like a fighter plane, black, with a big
orange ball on its side. For just a few seconds I saw the face and head of the pilot looking at us. He
had goggles, a lot of teeth, and for a split second looked directly at us. He roared past us towards
where the U.S.S. Enterprise normally would have tied up on Ford Island. He released a torpedo just
as he passed where I was standing on the Henley. But the Enterprise wasn’t in port. The old
battleship, the U.S.S. Utah, now a target ship and covered with lumber, was in the Enterprise’s
berth!
How close did he come to the Henley?
Well, he came from the bow, which would have been over towards Pearl City, and then down our
portside. He couldn’t have been more than 25 feet from the side of our ship. He had come down to
eye level, dropped the torpedo, which ran straight into the Utah, and then veered up and headed
west ward along the side of Ford Island.
What did you think when you saw Japanese plane attack the U.S.S. Utah?
As a communications officer on the Henley I read all the incoming messages prior to passing them
to our skipper. As I recall, each one began with a warning for all Commanding Officers to
safeguard their ships and stations in anticipation of a probable sneak attack. I had assumed the
attackers would be the Japanese, so when I saw the big orange ball on the side of the aircraft I knew
the Japanese was attacking us. It was definitely a sneak attack, but I was not too surprised. I knew
we were now at war.
So what happened next?
Well, we had our fires lit, engines turned over, and all lines singled up because the ship had been
mistakenly called to General Quarters. The Chief Bosun’s mate had put up this awning with a
whole bunch of fancy granny knots for the Saturday night movie. He was feverishly trying to
unhook the knots when my Chief Gunner’s mate, said, “Stand back, I’ll take that down for you.”
So he immediately took a powder case and slammed it into number four gun and fired it without a
projectile so all you get is a big blast of flames and gas coming out of the muzzle of the gun. The
next thing you know there was just little shreds of canvas hanging around the side of the stern, and,
of course, the boatswains mate thought it was the worst thing that ever happened to him. The chief
gunners mate said, “There you go, it’s down!”
After that, the senior officer onboard at the time, Lt.(j.g.) Francis Fleck, an Annapolis graduate,
assumed command, backed the Henley up and away and swung out into the current and past
another destroyer, the U.S.S. Monahan, which had sighted a midget sub.
So you passed the Monahan?
We passed between the Monahan and Fort Island as we bent around to port. We then headed
straight down the channel into Honolulu Bay. We also passed the U.S.S. Nevada, which had been
intentionally beached on the east side of the channel at Hospital Point by her captain rather than
allow the Japanese to sink her and block the harbor.
What were you doing at this point?
My General Quarters position was between the two 50 caliber machine gun mounts we had amid
ship. We had begun firing at the Japanese planes immediately after we witnessed the attack on the
Utah.
As you moved into the channel were you firing?
Absolutely! We started firing when still moored as all our guns were manned and ammunition at
the ready when the attack began. Due to the false General Quarters alarm, we were the only ship
that had ammunition topside, guns manned, and ready to fire when the Japanese attacked. We had
it all up in the guns and the handling rooms and hoists were bringing up 5” projectiles.
One of the things that we did, for example, was fire at a flight of planes at an high altitude about
16,000 to 20,000 feet that was to the north of us. I could see it way up in the air. We threw some
black bursts at it. Turns out they were B-17s, but the strange thing is, we’d never seen the B-17
before. We couldn’t even come close to hitting them, but we figured that while we don’t know
whom they are, they’d at least know that we’re here. That’s why we fired at them a couple times.
And then, we were heading out towards the channel out into Honolulu Bay, when a couple of
Japanese planes tried to come in on us from our stern. The Japanese planes fired a point seven-
millimeter bullet. We found one inside a director later, after things calmed down. One of the men
in the crew found that he had a hole in his jumper, between his arm and his chest. This spent 7mm
round had passed through the gap and then dropped in the floor of the director. But, we got the
Japanese plane with 50-caliber machine gun fire.
Did you hit him?
We hit him all the way down the channel when he was trying to strafe us and we saw all the 50-
caliber ammunition going right into him. He ended up in the drink. BOOM! He went down outside
in the bay.
And, one more thing, I’m afraid we shot down one of our own planes too.
It was a fighter plane. He was bringing in the guard mail from the Enterprise. He flew straight up
the channel right into the attack. Probably humming some Hawaiian music as he prepared to land at
Ford Island. He was literally headed straight at us as we headed down the channel to the harbor. We
had no choice at all. We had to protect our ship. We opened fire at him. Unfortunately, when you’re
firing at a plane, you cannot tell whose plane it is because fighter planes all look alike, from the
nose in. And we didn’t know whether it was a Japanese plane or not. We just hit him with one
blast from our number one 5” gun.
After the blast all that remained was a little debris on the surface of the water. Fortunately, he
probably never knew what hit him. It was sad, but as I say, it was our job to protect our ship, and
we couldn’t take a chance of having a Japanese plane come in like that and spray us with bullets or
drop a bomb on us.
Were you frightened during the attack?
No, Not too much!. The fact that I was not frightened I attribute to navy training and drills. Our job
was to defend our ship and get into the outer harbor. If I allowed myself to be too frightened I
would never be able to do my job.
Were the CO and XO aboard or ashore when the attack started?
Both were ashore for the weekend. We had about one-third of the crew aboard when we hauled in
our mooring lines. As I mentioned earlier, the senior officer aboard Sunday morning was a Lt.(j.g.)
Fleck, a graduate of the Naval Academy. He had come back to the ship late Saturday night. Shortly
after the attack began he was on the bridge and I passed the officer of the deck’s instructions to him
over the phone. He took over as the acting commander. Lt. Fleck took the ship out and conned it
all around the Monahan and brought it out into Honolulu Bay.
Once we reached the bay we began doing lazy circles and figure eights with all our guns at the
ready, in case any Japanese planes to come near us. Finally, we received a signal from a four
piper; one of the old destroyers with four stacks. It was the U.S.S. Trevor. The time was a little
after 1000 hrs. and the attacks were well over. The Trever had picked up our
commanding officer, LCDR Smith and the X.O. who wanted to come aboard. Lt. Fleck ordered that
a life raft streamed at the stern of our ship and pulled ahead of the Trever enabling the C.O. and
X.O. to scramble onto the raft and be hauled aboard the Henley.
Remember my friend Jim Baker, the fellow who used to host the weekend parties at Waikiki
Beach? On December 7th, Jim was assigned to the U.S.S. Helm, a sister ship to the Henley. We
anchored in the East Loch and the Helm was in the West Lock. “Blackie”, the nickname of the
Captain of the Helm, came aboard at about 0700hrs. Sunday morning and he brought his 10-year-
old son with him. After coming aboard, “Blackie” ordered the Helm moved over to anchor near us
in East Loch. Unfortunately, before he completed the movement and while his son was still aboard,
the Japanese attacked. Instead of heading into East Lock, he headed out into Honolulu Harbor, as
were his standing orders in case of an attack. As the Helm got underway one of the Japanese planes
dropped a huge bomb near her that practically bent the bow of his ship.
Jim Baker, realizing that “Blackie’s” son was in the wardroom alone, ran from the bridge down the
inside ladder to the main deck and into the wardroom. It was really chaotic with everyone firing at
the Japanese. Anyway, Jim raced down there, spread out all the funny papers he could find on the
wardroom table, put the kid on a chair so he could read the comics, and said, “You stay there, read
all the funny papers, and don’t worry if you hear a lot of noise, we’re just repairing something.”
Jim then he raced up the stairs and went back to his post on the Bridge. It really was amazing that
he took care of that little kid at the beginning of the war.
Your account differs from the official After Action Report submitted by your commanding officer, LCDR Smith. Why?
Your right, it does. The reason is that I was an actual participant on board the Henley during the
two attacks and LCDR Smith was not. Remember, LCDR Smith was ashore when the Japanese
attacked and did not join the ship until after 10:00am. Also, perhaps he wanted to spare the ship
some embarrassment by not stating completely why we had been at General Quarters and able to
respond to the Japanese so quickly. Secondly, he chose to rely on the statements of others in
preparing the After Action Report. However, in the end, what really matters is that we were in an
ideal position to be first to fight at Pearl Harbor! How we got there is pretty funny, but not very
important.
Where did the Henley moor after the attack?
We went over to East Loch again and we tied up to the same mooring there. And, of course, on the
other side of Fort Island, the ships were upside down. The Oklahoma was turned upside down and
they still trying to cut through her bottom because people were knocking. They were pulling
people out of those overturned battlewagons for about two weeks.
Did you see the U.S.S. Arizona?
We saw all the terrible sights, especially the Arizona, which was awful. It looked like fried steel.
Today most of the ship is under water with the government memorial built above it. Even after all
these years there’s still some oil bubbling to the surface every few minutes.
How did you let your family know that you were safe?
Naturally, my family was a little disturbed when they heard about the attack on Pearl Harbor as
they knew that I was there on the Henley. However, my brother Henry, another doctor, had a friend
by the name of Joe Herlihy, a navy admiral, who was in charge of all the oil tankers and fuel
supplies at Pearl. Henry called the Admiral Herlihy in Hawaii and asked him if he knew anything
about the status of the Henley. Admiral Herlihy said, “Yes, I do. The Henley was not touched at all.
There was no damage to her and there were no casualties. She’s operational, and, matter of fact,
I’m sending somebody over to refuel her today for her next operation. I’ll go over there myself and
look your brother up.” And, he did just that which completely amazed our Captain when the
Admiral came aboard the Henley and inquired as to the health of Ensign Groden!
Where was the Henley sent next?
We were sent down to the Phoenix Island Group. There were a couple of weather stations down
there. To get there, you head southwesterly down towards Tahiti. We went down there and took
the weather people off the station because Japanese submarines were shelling them. The next order
we were given was to escort a whole bunch of ships from Pearl Harbor to Samoa. We stayed awhile
in Samoa, and then we were assigned to the 7th Fleet to operate under this English Admiral in a
mixed Australian, New Zealand, American naval group.
Was it difficult operating with three navies together?
No it wasn’t really at all. The English were pretty good. We operated with them for quite a while.
We would come inside the Great Barrier Reef, after going up to New Guinea or over in the
Solomons, and I’d have one of the Signalmen standing up looking towards the H.M.A.S. Australia,
and meanwhile, on the other side of the ship, we had all the guys, about 3 or 4 of the officers in the
motor whale boat, already to shove off waiting for our invitation to come aboard the Australia for
drinks! As you know, the U.S. Navy was dry.
So, the British or Australian would invite us over for drinks almost every time we came into a port.
Later I tried to convince our commanding officer to talk with the Australian commanding officer
about the Americans making a contribution or joining their mess. In those days, their officers were
paid about as much money as an American Navy Seamen First Class. I didn’t feel it was right that
we should go over there and drink their liquor, which they had to pay for. And I tried to see if
they’d let us join their Wardroom and we’d pay it ourselves! Vice Admiral Crutchley wouldn’t let
us. “Absolutely not,” he said, “You’re our guests!” I told our Captain that doesn’t make sense! I
mean, these guys don’t make enough money to be paying for all our drinks all the time…”
Anyway, nothing ever changed.
You were operating out of Australia?
Actually, we were based in Brisbane most of the time. We were operating as an escort ship. Prior
to that, we were involved in the Guadalcanal -Tulagi invasion. We took the Marine forces down
there, I think on the 7th of August of ’42. It was a huge task force; believe me, one of the most
welcome sights I ever saw. We left to gather the ships down in New Zealand’s, North and South
Island, and then headed up towards the Solomon Islands. Once we were there, this great big ship
came over the horizon. It was the U.S.S. North Carolina, the first of the modern battleships with
16” guns. She was absolutely the tops in everything! The North Carolina was the first one that ever
came out to the Pacific. It was very comforting to know that we had that kind of firepower with us.
Did you spend much time in Australian waters?
Off and on, but one incident comes to mind while we were there. After our fleet activities in the
Coral Sea under command of Vice Admiral Crutchley on the HMAS Australia, we returned to a
safe anchorage inside the Great Barrier Reef, on the north-east coast of Australia. This area was a
usual rest stop for our task force after several weeks at sea.
What would you do while inside the reef?
Aboard the Henley we used the time to make minor repairs, remove the rust, repaint, refuel and
take on provisions from our usual supply ship, the Australian ship the HMAS Merkur. During one
of these re-supply opportunities, towards the end of November, 1942, it dawned on me that
Thanksgiving was approaching. As the senior watch officer I was sensitive about the morale of the
crew and decided to create a good, old fashioned American Thanksgiving Day for them. As a result
I believe many of the surviving members of the Henley crew remember it to this day!
How did you arrange Thanksgiving Day?
First, I wired the Merkur that I wanted about one hundred turkeys delivered; fresh, crates, plus our
usual order of eggs, spam, fresh vegitables, and fresh fruit such as plums, oranges, peaches, and
apples. I also planned a day on the beach where one half would go ashore in the morning and the
other half in the afternoon. For the beach party I ordered beer, figuring three 12 oz. bottles of 4%
alcohol beer per sailor. This beer was to be consumed entirely on the beach after the guys had a
swim.
On the day of the beach party, the Captain got the ship underway and tied us up alongside the
Merkur as each destroyer took its turn to take on supplies. As soon as we tied up to her I had the
duty crew load up supplies. At the same time I had the motor whale boat begin ferrying the
morning beach party crew with the beer to a beautiful, sunny beach nearby.
At the same time, the Captain, Exec, and the other officers aboard the Henley headed for the
officer’s wardroom aboard the Merkur for a few drinks. I was the only officer left aboard to handle
the beach party activities.
After about two hours we were finished loading the supplies and I ordered our mooring lines
singled up as the U.S.S. Helm lay to waiting her turn to come alongside the Merkur. I then jumped
from our ship to the Merkur and hurried into their wardroom to get our Captain and the other
officers back aboard the Henley. Once inside the wardroom I found a scene resembling a frat house
at 3:00 am on an early Sunday morning. They were all laughing, joking, patting each other on the
back. Over the noise I called to the Captain, “Sir, we have to move the ship so the Helm can come
alongside.”
He sees me and says, “Mr. Groden, sit down and have a drink!” I said to him, “Captain, I’m the
only officer aboard ship and I have the duty.” The Captain responds, “Well, you’re not much of a
duty officer if you cannot have a drink and still handle your duty.” Thinking quickly, I said “ Sir,
I’ll have mine later, but we have to move the ship now.” The Captain then says, “O.K., you move it
then.” I responded, “Captain, that’s the best idea you’ve had all day. I’ll send the motor whale boat
back for you later and I’ll add the pharmacist mate to the boat crew,” and quickly ran back to the
Henley and brought our ship to an anchorage close to the beach where our crew’s party was now
underway.
Shortly after anchoring, the members of the crew attending the morning beach party arrived
alongside and they were all plastered! They were so drunk that the duty crew had to literally lift
them aboard using a net. Fortunately, I was able to get them aboard and into their bunks
before the Captain and Exec came back aboard from their party on the Merkur. What had happened
became quite clear when one of the CPOs said that each bottle of beer delivered by the Merkur
was not a 12 oz., 4% alcohol bottle, as I had ordered, but an imperial quart bottle containing 13%
alcohol Australian beer. Each man had gratefully consumed his ration of three beers as I had
allotted! Needless to say, I immediately adjusted the beer ration for the afternoon party. After
pushing off this group in our whaleboat, I borrowed the whale boat from the Helm and retrieved
our Captain and his party from the Merkur. Upon returning to our ship, each one came aboard and
walked across the desk as if the ship were rolling in heavy seas, not one remembering to ask
permission to come aboard.
Do you remember seeing any Japanese destroyers?
The only ones I saw were at night. They came in at night and one time we illuminated what we
thought was one with our 32” searchlight. It turned out to be the U.S.S. Ralph Talbot! So really, I
couldn’t say that I had seen them at all, but I saw evidence of their presence.
Can you tell me about the sinking of the Henley?
Sure. After escorting supply ships to Guadalcanal to support the Marines for several months we
were shifted to the New Guinea area and operated out of Milne Bay. Our new role was to escort
supply ships for the army troops who were island hopping under General MacArthur.
On the night of the 3rd. of October, 1943 we went looking for Japanese subs. We had just secured
from General Quarters, a half hour after dusk as were our standing orders, and Phil Johnson,
Robert Ulrich, and myself went to the wardroom to have dinner. I had just swallowed a mouthful
of soup when suddenly General Quarters sounded again.
I ran quickly out the door of the wardroom and up the ladders to the gun director station to take
over for John Tyrrell, who was the officer on watch. I thought planes were hitting us because I saw
what looked like a stick of bombs, in the water off our port bow. I looked over abeam and it wasn’t
a stick of bombs I saw, it was a broaching torpedo! And it was coming right toward the port beam.
I watched that torpedo bubble under the water and hit the ship. It sounded like someone banging a
huge tin ashcan. The noise was so unbelievable. Instantly, our big one stack keeled over and
snapped off. I ordered all the men out of the director to the main deck. The torpedo explosion had
broken the ship in half. It hit in the forward fire room, and unfortunately, the galley was directly
above the engine room. Our cook and his assistant were both killed instantly.
My friend Phil Johnson was half way up on the ladder going to the bridge deck when the torpedo
hit. The concussion blew him off the starboard side of the ship and into the water. Unfortunately for
Phil, the rest of the crewmen were in the water on the port side of the ship. He managed to stay
afloat, even though he had a compound fracture to one of his legs, by clinging to debris. Phil was
alone and adrift for 24 hours until a motor torpedo boat happened upon him while searching the site
for survivors.
We had a black mess attendant by the name of Jackson. He was a former Navy boxer and
was built like a triangle. He must have had a 25” waist, and his shoulders and his chest must have
been about 50”. He was tough and he was huge. They brought him up and he had a compound
fracture of the femur. You could see the bone and the blood sticking out. He was a nice guy too. I
jabbed him with a morphine surret to ease his pain.
I said to Jackson, “I’m going to lower you into the water and it’s going to be very, very painful
because your leg is going to sting. We’ll get somebody to tow you over to a life raft. Don’t be
alarmed and just grit your teeth and do the best you can do.” We then lowered him into the water.
Then Waggoner, our supply officer, says to me, “I don’t swim too well,” he said, “Why don’t you
take this?” And he handed me his big heavy book with all the names and numbers of the pay
records for everybody aboard ship…
I said, “What do you want me to do with that? Didn’t you sent a copy of that ashore before we left
port? I’ll take care of it!” So I took hold of it and threw it in the water.
You were all gathered on the bow?
We had one group gathered at the bow and another group at the stern. As a matter of fact, the Chief
on the stern was awarded the Navy Cross posthumously for helping so many men off the ship.
Anyway, Waggoner then hands me his .45. As gunnery officer I was responsible for issuing each
officer a .45 pistol and ammunition. However, knowing what they were like, I never gave ‘em a
clip! I mean, who would want these guys carrying ammunition for a weapon they did not know
how to fire. I said to Waggoner, “I’ll take the gun” I immediately threw it into the water.
What happened next amounted to about the worse experience I ever had in the ten years I was in
the Navy. I looked over, and standing against the bulkhead behind the Number 2 gun, was Red
Roman, He was my first class fire controlman in charge of all the sights, wiring, and the control
systems. I said, “Come on, Red, quick! We don’t have much time… come on over here, we’ll get
you on one of these life rafts that’s close by…” He said, “No, Sir.” I said, “Red, you must come,
we don’t have time, quit fooling around!” He said, “No. I can’t swim!” I said, “Red, what
difference does that make? I can swim for both of us! I’ll show you how, and I’ll put your hands
on my shoulders and we’ll just push through the water, come on over…” He wouldn’t come. I
ordered him, I threatened him, I did everything I possibly could do, but he wouldn’t come. He
stayed where he was and went down with the ship.
Who was the officer who went down with the ship?
That was Robert Ulrich. He was the fellow from Alaska. I had been having dinner with him just a
few minutes before General Quarters sounded. The splinters from a wooden boat blown apart by
the torpedo explosion hit him. After the war his brothers and sisters come to all the reunions for the
Henley. I guess it was their way of remembering him by being with the crew of the Henley. And,
as it turns out, I understand that Roberts’s family has recently erected a totem pole in his memory
in Alaska.
Did you lose anybody in the water?
We lost about three men. One of them, I know, was run over by one of the rescue ships. He
evidently struck out to swim over to it, and instead, they made a turn and I think he was sucked into
the propeller wash. I believe we lost one officer and 16 men in the submarine attack or who
subsequently died of their wounds.
So he was trying to swim to an island?
No. We weren’t near enough to an island. We were out in the middle of the Coral Sea.
How were you rescued?
The new two-stacker destroyer U.S.S. Reid picked us up after we were in the water about 7-8
hours. The Reid took us to Milne Bay, which is on the eastern tip of New Guinea. Upon arrival we
were placed aboard a destroyer repair ship, the U.S.S. Whitney. We were all covered with oil; I
was digging oil out of my ears for three months afterwards. The engineer on the repair ship
complained to our captain, Rolla Adams, that we using too much of his desalinated water as we
attempted to get the oil off our bodies and out of our ears and noses. I’m afraid he was told, in no
uncertain terms, “that’s too bad, you better make more water!”
After a couple of days, another destroyer came into Milne Bay and took us down to Brisbane. We
stayed in Brisbane for about 3-4 days and were issued new clothes. I was lucky, I ran across a
friend of mine on the Reid who gave me a whole bunch of uniforms. He even had the same size of
shoes as I. Next, we took a train from Brisbane to Sidney. On the 14th. of October we boarded a
transport, the USS West Point, formerly the S.S. America. There were over 860 people
aboard, all heading back to the States, including nurses!
Did you go straight back to San Francisco?
Yes. We went nonstop and unescorted from Sidney harbor, south towards New Zealand and then
all the way up the California coast to San Francisco. We arrived on the 27th. of October, 1943 and
the navy put us up in 3-4 suites at the Palace Hotel on Market Street. Each crew member was
granted 30 days Survivor Leave.
Postscript
After 30 days of Survivors Leave back in Cambridge, Mass., Lt. Groden reported to Bath, Maine as
A member of the pre-commissioning crew of the new destroyer U.S.S. O’Brien (DD-725). Four
other officers from the Henley joined the O’Brien too. The O’Brien took part in the Normandy
Invasion and the subsequent bombardment of Cherbourg where it was hit by a shell fired from the
German Battery Hamburg. After the war in Europe ended, Joe Groden, now a LCDR, was
transferred to the Pacific Fleet where he helped repatriate Allied soldiers and civilians from Korea
to their home countries. He left active duty in 1946 after almost five years continuous sea duty and
rejoined International Paper. Joe retired from the International Paper Company in 1976 as General
Manager, Sales. He now lives in retirement in Plymouth, Mass.
David Stephenson is a retired navy reserve intelligence officer and former software marketing
executive. He is a veteran of Operation Desert Storm where he served as an Operations Officer
on the Iraqi Intelligence Task Force, Defense Intelligence Agency. He now teaches history at
Las Lomas High School in Walnut Creek, California.
Sidebar
The U.S.S. Henley (DD-391) was launched 12 January 1937 at the Mare Island Navy Yard,
Vallejo, California. She was sponsored by Miss Beryl Henley Joslin, a descendant of Captain
Robert Henley for whom the ship was named. The ship was commissioned on August 14, 1937.
After a shakedown cruise to Hawaiian waters, the Henley joined the Pacific Battle Force, Destroyer
Division 11, at San Diego. She sailed from San Diego in April 1941 to join the fleet at Pearl
Harbor. When the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor on December 7th, the Henley was nested with
three other destroyers in the East Loch. Due a mistaken call to General Quarters by a temporarily
inattentive sailor, the Henley was manned and guns at the ready when the Japanese attacked. This
fortunate mistake gave Henley the opportunity to fire the first shots as wave after wave of enemy
planes attacked the sleeping fleet. Under the command of a LT(j.g.) she headed for the open sea
beyond Pearl Harbor as were her standing orders.
In the weeks immediately following the Japanese attack, the Henley operated with naval task forces
to reinforce Wake Island and to conduct patrols for the protection of Midway and convoy lanes. In
1942, she moved south-west to Samoa and subsequently to Australia and New Zealand. The Henley
performed as an ASW platform during the U.S. Marine invasion of Guadalcanal-Tulagi and that by
the by the Australian Army at Finschafen, New Guinea.
Most of 1943 was spent in convoy duty, anti-submarine patrols, shore bombardment, and anti-air
defense. On October 3, 1943, the Henley, in company with the U.S.S. Smith (DD-378) and the
U.S.S. Reid (DD-369) were sweeping the waters off Finschafen. At dusk, the Japanese submarine
RO-108 fired three torpedoes. Fast action at the helm enabled the Henley to dodge the first two
torpedoes, but a third struck the Henley on her port side exploding in the fire room, destroying her
boilers, and breaking the ship in half.Abandon ship was ordered and at 6:29 pm the Henley sank,
stern first. The Reid and Smith searched unsuccessfully for the Ro-108, then returned to rescue the
Henley's survivors, who had lashed their life rafts together.
The honor of avenging the Henley fell to the USS England (DE-635), a 1400-ton Buckley class
escort destroyer. The England was named for Ensign John C. England who was killed on board the
U.S.S. Oklahoma (BB-37) on December 7th. The England was one of the smallest fighting ships in
the U.S. Navy. However, this little escort had a great crew with plenty of guts and a lot of luck.
During one twelve day period in May, 1944, the England sank six Japanese submarines, including
the RO-108, the slayer of the Henley. This impressive feat, facilitated by the breaking of the
Japanese naval codes, earned the England a Presidential Unit Citation. In admiration, the CNO proclaimed, "There'll always be an England in the United States Navy.”
