The WardroomAn alumnus of the Pennsylvania StateNautical School would indeed be negli-gent to forget the staff of the Annie’s 11officers, whose dedication and faithfulservice, coupled with many long years ofexperience at sea, were the principlesources of his knowledge and the cata-lyst in cutting his eye teeth in the way ofthe sea. There were times when theymay have gone against his grain, and hewould rebel as when a child against hisparents, when disciplined. However, inretrospect they had gained his respect

and admiration for having molded thecadets from boys to men.

A brief mention of their backgroundsand personal traits is recalled with refer-ence to a specific incident with officersthat characterized them appropriately. Itwas during my cadet days aboard theAnnie (1931-1933) that the followingwardroom and crews mess existed.

Captain John ForeHines, USN (Ret.),commanding officerand superintendent,who was a native ofBowling Green,Kentucky, graduatedfrom the NavalAcademy in 1892and the Naval WarCollege and sawextensive sea duty in his career. Duringthe Spanish-American War he wasattached to the USS Dorothea, then USSCincinnati, followed by a tour at theNaval Academy. He returned to sea asexecutive officer and then in commandof USS North Carolina, followed by USSPertel. He returned to the NavalAcademy staff and once again went tosea in command, successively, of USSChattanaooga, USS Cleveland, USSMinneapolis, and USS Charleston. At theoutbreak of World War I he was chief ofstaff, then commander of Newport NewsDivision of cruisers and transports. Hislast sea command was the battleship USS

BACKGROUND

USS Annapolis (PG-10) wasthe first of four gunboats(Vicksburg, Newport,Princeton) built during thetransition period of the mar-itime world, that is -sail tosteam, wood to steel.

The Annapolis’ originalbarkentine rig was of thecomposite type, typical forthe day — steel keel andframes, steel shell platingfrom main deck to waterline,and wood planking withcopper sheathing to the keel.Copper being resistant tobarnacles, this method wasused, in as much as drydocks were a scarcity inthose days.

Rear Admiral PhillipHichborn, chief constructor ofthe Bureau of Constructionand Repair, designed the hull.

Rear Admiral GeorgeWallace Melville, chief of theBureau of Steam Engineering,designed her power plant. Hewas one of few survivors ofthe Jeannette expeditionthrough the Bering Straits tothe North Pole.

Her power plant was a tripleexpansion reciprocatingsteam engine, better knownas an “Up-n-Downer”. Steamwas supplied by two water-tube boilers at 180 psi. Thesegunboats were pioneers in theuse of watertube boilers.

USS Annapolis: The Wardroom and The Crews Mess■ Cdr. E. D. Maissian, USNR (Ret.)

H I S T O R I C A L P E R S P E C T I V E

NAVAL ENGINEERS JOURNAL WINTER 2003 ■ 9 7

ABOVE, LEFT: The USS Annapolis on June 29, 1939 on the Delaware River in the Port Day Parade. TheBenjamin Franklin Bridge is in the background.

Pennsylvania, followed by his last shoreassignment as commandant of the GreatLakes Naval Training Station. He receivedboth the Navy Cross and the DistinguishedService Medal of the War Department for hisconvoy work during World War I.

It was during our first class training cruise tothe West Indies, when Capt. Hines sum-moned my entire first class on the carpet. Westood at attention, while he reprimanded usfrom a written edict for our excessive hazingof the boot class. He was so worked up thathis dentures did not keep in step with hisjaw. “ …surreptitious hazing will not be tol-erated… .” He paused, lowered his head, andpeered over the upper rim of his spectacles tosee if we understood the strange word.Simultaneously we looked wide-eyed at eachother in awe, and nervously balanced our-selves against the Annie’s violent roll, tryingto comprehend the mysterious word.

The captain was a strict disciplinarian andcommanded extreme respect to authority.When on the bridge he had all the embryonavigators on their toes. He took everyopportunity to have ship’s sails set. CaptainHines had his private mess in his cabin.

When a seagull looks down through thewardroom skyport, it sees a green-cloth-cov-ered table set athwartship, surrounded by 10officers.

Commander Charles C.W.Densmore, USN (Ret.),senior engineer officer, whowas a native of Avalon,Wisconsin, sat at the star-board end of the table. Hereceived an electrical engi-neering degree and workedfor the Pullman Co. for ashort period before enlisting in the Navy asmachinist mate 2nd class. He served aboard theUSS Vermont and USS Terror, which was amonitor during the Spanish-American War.Susequently he served as warrant machinist onvarious assignments and engineer officer of theUSS Celtic. In 1904 he was commissioned anensign, but before long he received a double pro-motion to lieutenant.

World War I saw him in his first command,USS Pastores, a trooper, followed by a spe-cial assignment to Holland, and then incommand of USS Maumee. Following thiswas his last assignment as assistant inspectorof machinery at Cramps shipyard afterwhich he retired in 1923.

Commander Densmore joined the USSAnnapolis in May 1925 and served until1942. With the advent of World War II, hewas again called to active duty and assignedto Cramps shipyard; he fully retired as acommander in 1945.

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RIGHT: The USSAnnapolis“Wardroom Officers”from L to R: Ensign E.Youngjohns; Lt. G.Hassel; Lt. P. Althouse;Lt. P. Steger; Lt. W.Armstrong; and CBMT. Flaherty

His rich Navy background gave him a vastpotential of engineering knowledge to enrichthe cadets’ training. He was meticulous,resourceful, and a perfectionist by natureand was very much respected by the cadets.

Commander Edward J.Kingsland, USNR, executive officer and messpresident sat at the portend of the table. Betterknown to the cadets as“Uncle Ed,” he was a dis-ciplinarian and a keystoneof our transition from“boys to men” and ran ataught ship. He controlled all operations ofthe ship and cadets and taught naval architec-ture classes. He dispensed demerits, where itwas merited. It meant extra duty with Bos’nTom Flaherty’s scraper and chipping hammersquad or the palm and needle class, betterknown as “The Bos’n’s sewing circle.” But ittaught us discipline and self-dependency.During World War II, he was called to activeduty and achieved the rank of commander.

Lieutenant Parton Althouse, (Class 1922),navigator and watch officer. He was anexcellent navigator and a good instructor inthe subject, as well as signals. Pete was aman of few words and fewer smiles. He wasquiet and serious in nature. He taught usmuch in star identification, the technique ofhandling sails, and standing a good watch.He taught us navigation with the dedicationof a college professor.

Lieutenant George C. Hassel, (Class 1923),watch officer, and instructor, was a real like-able guy. Always with a smiling disposition,he liked to tease the cadets with “…Youpeople… .” He was a stickler on Rules ofthe Road and woe unto him who had a dirtymattress cover turned inside-out at ham-mock and bedding inspection or a dirtywhite hat cover in a liberty party line-up.

Ensign Ernest J. Youngjohn, USNR, (Class1925), watch officer and instructor. Erniewas the supply and commissary officer. He

was the backbone of Annie’s athletic activi-ty. We will never forget those boxing match-es better known as strawberry festivals thathe promoted on the fo’c’sl.

Lieutenant I.T. “Pop” Steger USN (Ret.),engineering officer, who retired from theNavy after 30 years of active service. Hebrought with him a rich background of engi-neering experience. He was a native of thePennsylvania Dutch country and made itknown. Often when he had the watch at theNavy yard, he conducted the morning physi-cal training classes and drills on the dock.On one such occasion he said “Ven I tell youab-aat face, vatchu gonna doo ab-aat it.” Hewas a real likeable guy indeed.

Lieutenant William Armstrong, (Class1927), engineering officer, stayed aboardafter graduation as an officer and instructor.Bill was very conscientious, and knew noend to the day. To him work hours werearound the clock. He was very resourceful.Give him a lathe and some bar stock and hecould build a new engine for the Annie.

Dr. John D. Target, medical officer and mas-ter of the dispensary. Hecame from a most eminentstock, and long line ofphysicians and surgeons.At sea he was busy as abee between the dispen-sary, his fishing line overthe taffrail, and first aidclasses. He was alwaysmending broken bones,stitching cuts and bruises. When constipationprevailed, he would be concocting super dosesof take-it-and-run, medicines when the “CC”pills didn’t work.

Chief Boatswains Mate Thomas Flaherty,USN (Ret.), was the ship’s Bos’n and the old-est salt aboard. Jokingly it was said that hewas a messcook during Christ’s Last Supper.

He related the time in World War I, whenhis four stack destroyer weighed anchorfrom Charleston, South Carolina. Tom was

NAVAL ENGINEERS JOURNAL WINTER 2003 ■ 9 9

calling off the anchor chain shots to thebridge — “Anchor’s aweigh, Sir” — “Fouledanchor — Sir, the anchor’s wrapped arounda model T Ford.” The model T had rolledoff the stern of a ferry several days earlier.

Tom was a stickler for cleanliness of thedeck planking. With new deck plankinginstalled before our boot cruise, he nevermissed a chance, following a field day toholystone to the chant of “Six days thoushalt labor, and on the seventh thou shaltholystone.” Although we jettisoned everyholystone we could lay our hands on fromthe Bos’n’s locker, Tom never failed toreplenish the shortages from an inex-haustible source we never could find. Hemust have kept them under his bunk.

Calvin “Sparks” Fredericks, Radio operatorduring the cruises. He broke away from hiscronies at the downtown YMCA andmanned the Annie’s powerful 5 watter in theradio shack. He taught us semaphore at sea.

The Crews MessAside from her 11 officers and 90 cadets USSAnnapolis carried a permanent crew. Fromthe galley’s sacred domain of coal stove, castiron frying pans and soup kettles, the star-board galley doorway formed a perfectpanorama of 10 sea-going characters, thespectrum of which could only be found in aJoseph Conrad novel. This was the crewsmess. We knew many of them by their nicknames.

An alumnus would be remiss not to men-tion some of these men, whose faithful ser-vice, and many long years of experiencewere a principle source of knowledge, whichno textbook could provide.

Carlos “Cuba” Macari, chief machinist, wasthe crew’s two-fisted mess president. Hiscongenial personality won every cadet. Noone could ever forget his radiant smile andthe glistening mouthful of gold teeth.

Shorty West, mess attendant, was an ex-pug. This much tattooed guy could spin

yarns taller than the fore topmast on themorning following liberty in a foreign port.

Papadapoulous the Greek, fireman, was skinand bones. He prided a walrus mustache andwas as coolheaded as an Englishman and ascalm as the doldrums.

Abdulla the Turk, fireman, was sullen, quiet,and moody in disposition. He was very muchliked by all hands. He was seen, but not heard.

Big Jim Knetjethew, the Russian, fireman,was the best in the business. When he wason watch, the safety valves on both boilerswere uneasy. He would do anything for thecadets to enhance their learning.

Cecil “Bos’n” Palmer, baker first class, wasslow to move his massive stature around thepantry and often got in Bill Smith’s way. Hissea bread was not only heavy in nourish-ment, but also in displacement and perhapsbetter suited as a small boat anchor, wethought. A devout man, he used to singhymns while kneading dough. Whenever adisheartened cadet would ease by the galley,he would give scriptural solace: “Well donethou good and faithful servant, thou hastbeen faithful over few things, I will makethee ruler over greater things.”

Bill Smith, head cook, the supreme andundisputed master of the galley. His con-stant quote: “My chow will remove thewrinkles from your bellies.” Bill was thebest friend of the cadets. We felt an affec-tionate regard for him. Whenever bootswere chased to the galley for seconds, healways managed to scrape up a few goodcuts for the youngsters. He had an especial-ly soft spot in his heart for them. Bill’s prideand joy in life was to load his prize, encrust-ed corncob pipe, set his weary bones on ahalf bag of flour in the pantry, draw thecadets near him, and then relate his days asa “Boy” aboard the old schoolshipSaratoga. He would describe slowly andmeticulously how Admiral Dewey visitedthe Saratoga’s galley and accepted a cup ofjamoke (coffee) from him. Bill’s pride wouldswell to the bursting point and not even his

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Mk 5 unwieldy soup strainer could possiblyconceal his ear to ear smile.

Bill was very strong. He could tackle a quar-ter of beef with the greatest of ease. Some ofus recall the night off Cape Hatteras whenthe Annie was laboring heavily, and the lash-ings of three drums of the ice machine oilparted, causing them to roll from side to sidein a great turmoil. Bill tackled the renegadessingle handedly, and in short order thingswere under control again.

Wilford “Willi” Smith, crew’s steward, wasthe son of Bill Smith. He was small ofstature but tough as a railroad spike. Whenhis dad bawled “Wilford,” junior snappedlike a puppet.

Ol’ Forty Fathom Raddick, wardroom stew-ard, was a card sharp extraordinaire of thefo’c’sle. Built like the actor Stephen Fechetand lacking a smile, his quick movements andwitticisms were befitting a Hollywood comic.

Gene, the captain’s steward, had the cordiali-ty and finesse of a maitre d’hotel. He was amost likeable chap from the captain’s homestate in the Deep South. Occasionally hewould smuggle the captain’s special seacrackers to the cadets during the cruise.

Terry, last but not the least, was the cap-tain’s dog. It was a salty wire-haired terrier,and could walk along a deck plank withoutfaltering, regardless of how violently the shiprolled. Everyone liked him except the thirddivision, when Terry would use the division’sflemished lines as a sand box.

There were other crew members aboard,whose names I cannot remember because ofthe short duration of their service.

Life aboard the Annapolis had its floods andebbs for the young lads fresh out of highschool. The transition from the ease and luxu-ry of the home to a highly regimented way oflife aboard was abrupt. We acquired a newvocabulary. It was a surprise to learn thatfield day did not resemble an athletic eventand that a strawberry festival was not a

Danish cake-bake. We also learned thatholystoning was not ecclesiastical ritual andthat the berth deck was not a maternity ward.

The new life meant submission to strict dis-cipline and rigid class distinction imposed onthe boot class, which was not only repulsive,but downright unbearable. This was a weed-ing out period and many fell by the wayside.The new way of life meant hard work, longsea watches, and sleepless nights. However,our bodies became well seasoned.

Becoming accustomed to living in the crampedquarters of the gun deck with 89 roommates,each with differing personalities and varyingtemperaments was not easy but it taught uscompatibility. We learned how to get alongwith our fellow men under all circumstances.

Sleeping in fat-bellied parabolic hammockswas a new experience but hard on our backsat first. To chin ourselves in and out of thosedream sacks without hitting the deck withour faces was an achievement. Neverthelesswe learned contentment. Thereafter, wecould sleep on a bare wooden deck withequal comfort.

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Left: Holystone

— “Six Days

thou shalt labor

and on the sev-

enth day thou

shalt holystone.”

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1 0 2 ■ WINTER 2003 NAVAL ENGINEERS JOURNAL

CDR. EDWARD D. MAISSIAN, USNR (RET) has a BS and ME in mechanical engineering from theUniversity of Pennsylvania. He also completed graduate engineering studies in naval architecture atthe Post Graduate School of the U.S. Naval Academy, Annapolis, Maryland and is a graduate of thePennsylvania State Maritime School. Cdr. Maissian’s civilian service began in the Design Section ofthe Philadelphia Naval Base with continued service with the Supervisor of Shipbuilding, Camden,New Jersey where he worked on the design and construction of the USS Kitty Hawk. He was thentransferred to the Naval Plant Rep. Office where he served until his retirement in May, 1995. His civil-ian service was interrupted by active war service in the U.S. Navy with his commission to Lieutenant(jg). His service included many engineering billets in naval vessel design, construction, and battledamage repair. After the war he became actively involved in the U.S. Naval Reserve, holding severaladministrative assignments including Commanding Officer of two Naval Reserve Units and duty asstaff advisor advancing to his present rank of Commander. During this time he served aboard nineaircraft carriers, three destroyers, a guided missile cruiser, and a battleship in addition to his manyshore assignments. Cdr. Maissian, a frequent contributor to the Naval Engineers Journal, is a 56-yearmember of the American Society of Naval Engineers, as well as a member of the American Society ofMechanical Engineers, the Society of Naval Architects and Marine Engineers, and the CaliforniaSociety of Professional Engineers. He is also a registered professional engineer in California,Pennsylvania, and New Jersey.

THE ANNAPOLIS was built at the Crescent Shipyard in Elizabethport, New Jersey, by the yard presi-dent Lewis Nixon (first in his Naval Academy class of 1882). Miss Georgiana Porter, the granddaughterof Vice Admiral David Dixon Porter, sponsored the launching on December 24, 1896. The Annapolisserved with distinction during the Spanish-American War.

Perhaps the chow lacked the taste and dainti-ness of home cooked food, but it was whole-some and nourishing, and we gained a betterappreciation of our homes. As Bill Smithonce put it so aptly, “My chow will removethe wrinkles from your bellies.” How true,many pounds and many inches were addedin all directions.

Hazing of the boots by the upper classmensometimes bordered on brutal proportions. Itrubbed against our grain and taxed ourpatience to the elastic limit. Sometime it pre-cipitated a challenge on the fo’c’sl. A boothad to carry matches and a knife and had towear a clean white hat at all times. He wasrestricted to many of the ship’s so-called lux-uries — the athwartship bench, hammockstretchers, and the one and only AtwaterKent Radio. However, this new regimenenhanced our humility and loyalty, and wegained a profound respect for authority.

The antics of the upper classmen were manyand varied and sometimes ridiculous, but itwas great fun.

We can well remember such doings as the ritualburning crumpled newspapers that were castadrift in the swift tide of the cadet’s head trough.

It required Job’s patience for a boot to sur-vive until the day of the time-honored semi-annual ceremonial presentation of the covet-ed (to the boots) head seat award to the mostunpopular first classman.

When new cadets stepped aboard, the bootswere promoted to third classmen, earned onegold hashmark, and drew a sigh of relief. Inmodern parlance, this was the day of libera-tion. We had conquered the seeminglyimpossible, the first term, and we were nowready to learn new things and to assumegreater responsibilities.

In retrospect, it may be realized that eachobvious hardship at the time had its subtlebut long range and priceless asset in store forour lifetime benefit.

The alumni will recognize the fact that oursojourn aboard the Annie was indeedrewarding in innumerable ways and the besttwo years of our lives. ■