What is a Sailor? - In Honor of the 250th Anniversary of the U.S. Navy
- marywh346
- Oct 8
- 7 min read
The 250th anniversary of the official founding of the United States Navy will be commemorated on October 13, 2025. The Navy's origins can be traced back to the American Revolution, when in 1775 the Continental Congress established the first Continental Navy. My dad, John Patrick Whiteman, joined the Navy in 1942. He served with other sailors through the Normandy Invasion and D-Day on a minesweeper, the YMS-346. He became a sailor at Sampson Naval Training Station in Romulus, NY, preparing with other soon-to-be sailors for the great unknown of World War II. This post will include firsthand accounts, both written and pictorial, of what it was like to be a sailor in the U. S. Navy during WWII.
What is a Sailor?
I recently purchased a book called Off the Beaten Path WWII, a book of history, stories, songs and trivia compiled by M. Geoffrey Clough. Two entries from the book especially caught my attention. Both were printed in the USS Hornet Crew Newsletter June 10, 1945. The first was written by Lt. Terrence McMahon, Chaplain of the USS Hornet during WWII.
Father McMahon wrote:
No, it's not a picnic by any means, nor was it ever meant to be. There's nothing nice about war in spite of all the parades and speeches, pretty uniforms and dazzling ribbons. It means for a sailor, early rising and living in cramped quarters; standing in line for chow and for showers, to get your pay and to spend it; it means working parties and menial tasks, chipping paint and cleaning the head; it means condition watches and general quarters at any and all hours, manning a gun throughout long rainy nights when no self-respecting Japanese would even roll out of his sack to warm up a plane; it means sweating it out 30 feet below the ocean level in 120 degrees temperature, nursing overworked boilers and engines that are harder to handle than a child with its first tooth; it means respotting a flight deck 5, 10, 15 xs a day, pushing planes, folding wings, handling chocks and turning props from 0400 to 2000; it means breaking down engines and building them up, replacing wings, changing tires, transforming duds into operational aircraft to meet a high pressure schedule; it means breaking out bombs and rockets, setting fuses , loading bomb bays, filling gas tanks, replenishing ammunition; it means staying at sea seemingly forever; it means possibility of blood and wounds, familiarity with the thought of death.
But it has also had its compensations: it has meant a growing confidence in one's ability to do a job and do it well, the solid satisfaction of knowing that one had contributed directly to the winning of the war. It has meant growing older, not due to strain or the so-called ravages of war, but to a gradual maturing of thought, to a developing sense of proportion. For many it has meant learning something very important. To experience death -- that is to see it and to live with the possibility of it ever near -- puts the relative value of things in their proper perspective. For many it has meant seeing clearly for probably the first time the things in life that really matter, becoming suddenly aware of the appalling amount of dead wood in their lives. If this clarity of vision, this fine simplicity of thought remains when all is over, then to have been a sailor will be indeed a blessing.
In another entry a sailor wrote:
What is a Sailor? A sailor is a guy who is worked too hard, gets too little sleep, takes verbal abuse no civilian would take, does every imaginable kind of job at any imaginable hour, never seems to get paid, never knows where he's going, can seldom tell where he's been - yet accepts the worst with complete resignation, and last but not least, he really kinda likes it! You know why? When you're dog tired, been up since 4 am working like hell all day, and about to hit the sack at 8 pm, a voice shouts 'work detail!' Then you unload a ship's cargo of perishable refrigerated foods. You are ready to die by 3 am, but the job must be finished before dawn. Soon you don't care if you live or die, and suddenly, you're a sailor, it's over and you did it and you think of all the people you know and how they would react under circumstances and you begin to grin. You grin because you ain't scared of nothing, and it is a fact that there is no ordeal you can't face and you know it!
My dad had his own style for depicting what life was like as a sailor. He used his art and his humor on many of the letters he sent home to his family from the naval training station and from his ship. As to the question, 'What is a sailor?', here are just a few of his illustrations and accompanying excerpts from his letters. Each heading is a link to a related blog post.
1/19/43 - Dear Gracie: We had half a week of "Regimental Guard". I stood at the gate and stopped all the cars and made people identify themselves before they could enter the area. The officers had to produce buttons. I stood my post with another fellow from 6 o'clock to 9 o'clock, 6 A.M. 9 P.M. Brr-r-r it's cold on that post. It's lucky we have our little shack and a big fur-lined jacket or we would have froze to death. We were armed with clubs in case we had to persuade anyone that he couldn't enter. I'm glad I didn't have to use it on anyone. It's like the one a cop uses only a little shorter.
2/3/43 - Dear Brown Eyes: Last night I hooked up my hammock between two stations and slept in it. I tried getting in and out a few times at first to get the hang of it. I fell out once and banged my toe. I slid it down to about a foot off the floor just in case it happened again but it didn't.
3/18/43 - Dear Bess: I have bad news. I won't be home Saturday or Sunday. I am in the navy hospital with (sabotage) German Measles. ...Measles, Bah! It ain't funny.
4/18/43 - Dear Bessie: ...School here is very interesting. We are learning all about mines. I never knew there were so many different kinds of mines. We are taught to sweep them, how they are laid, how to destroy them, etc. ...We went to a mine depot yesterday. There we saw how mines are made. It's the first time I had ever seen T.N.T. It looks like soap. We had to leave all matches and cigarettes and stuff outside. They take no chances. There were a lot of girls working there too.
4/30/43 - Dear Bessie: ...I enjoyed reading your letter wishing me a Happy Easter and a Happy Birthday. This is how I spent my Happy Easter and Happy Birthday.
6/25/43 - Dear Gracie: ...We have weekly personnel inspections by the commander and if our uniforms aren't spotless, our hair cut right, shaved, etc., then it is just too bad.
8/24/44 Dear Bess...Well! I guess you know where I am now and where I've been. August 20 was the ship's anniversary, (one year in commision), and our Yeoman made up a regular newspaper telling of all our duties and things we've done. ...I helped out by putting cartoons in it.
Being a sailor often meant being away from loved ones during special occasions and holidays. These letters to his family and more of Jack's cartoons can be found with a link on the website's Letters page or here.
After WWII, the Secretary of the Navy, James Forrestal, sent letters of appreciation to former service members after discharge. The letters expressed the Navy's pride in their service and were a personal acknowledgment of their contributions as they transitioned back into civilian life. Below is a copy of a letter addressed to Mr. Meyer H. Leavitt, the yeoman on the YMS-346.
In the letter, the Secretary of the Navy states:
... without formality but as clearly as I know how to say it, I want the Navy's pride in you, which it is my privilege to express, to reach into your civil life and to remain with you always.
You have served in the greatest Navy in the world.
It crushed two enemy fleets at once, receiving their surrenders only four months apart.
It brought our land-based airpower within bombing range of the enemy, and set our ground armies on the beachheads of final victory.
It performed the multitude of tasks necessary to support these military operations.
No other Navy at any time has done so much. For your part in these achievements you deserve to be proud as long as you live. The Nation which you served at a time of crisis will remember you with gratitude.
So...What is a Sailor? I can't begin to know how to answer that question. This post is meant to show a small glimpse into what it was like to be a sailor from some who actually were.
As our nation commemorates the 250th anniversary of three branches of our military this year, the U.S. Army (June 14), the U.S. Navy (October 13) and the U.S. Marine Corps (November 10), I want to take this opportunity to thank all members of our armed forces, both active and veteran, for their service and their sacrifice. May the Nation which you served remember you with gratitude.
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*More stories and photographs of WWII Sailors, can be found on the blog page.
