Beginning in 2009 and up until 2016, Clayton C. “Bud” Shortridge of New Haven, Indiana, churned out a number of informational texts regarding Liberty and Victory ships that were attacked by Axis forces. He passed away in July 2017, with his comcast site soon going offline; this left archive.org, blogspot, and several Google Docs links (mostly passworded and slated to disappear) as the holders of his work. In an effort to preserve his writing and to keep everything readily accessible for those interested, I have made available my archive of his articles.
In a scant year after its creation, the War Shipping Administration (WSA) thought it wise to create another uniformed civil service organization under its jurisdiction. At the time, the other uniformed divisions within the War Shipping Administration were the Merchant Marine Cadet Corps and the Maritime Service. The new uniformed service would comprise members of the Field Service Branch; when the case was set before Congress in 1943, the WSA engaged about 450 individuals involved in the Field Service – they were colloquially known as “Shipping Inspectors.” Their tasks revolved around repair and conversion activities at the 80 major repair yards and 117 repair contractors; at any given time there were 600 WSA-controlled vessels in drydock, repair, or conversion. Tasks performed by the Field Service involved:
The Field Service Branch also served as “eyes, ears, and legs for the resident auditor, enabling them to better approve charges made for time and material and to know that such time and material [was spent on vessels under question].” WSA recruited heavily among ex-Navy and Army men, who looked favorably upon donning a uniform. Such uniforms, it was argued, would give them an air of authority – and not be viewed as plainclothes spies as asserts a comment at the 1 October 1943 Hearing; the same hearing also mentions union rejection of uniforming agents of the WSA, as a uniform would create “certain attitudes” on the part of the Shipping Inspector, which would inevitably result in a shipyard riot. Instead it was floated that the Shipping Inspector wear a large badge – the WSA thought ill of this.
WSA did a trial of uniforming its Field Service with good review, as related by Mr. J. L. Murphy, Chairman of Price Adjustment Board, War Shipping Administration on a 1 October 1943 Hearing:
These uniforms, though, were purchased at the employee’s expense without reimbursement by the WSA – at the time the Comptroller General ruled no agency of the government could procure uniforms on the part of its employees. Further, in northern shipyards, a garrison cap was prescribed, and all men were to war puttees to protect them from getting their trouser cuffs in machinery while down in a ship’s holds. The Senate Hearing provided the following on additional articles to be worn:
The argument for a uniformed service – civilian and voluntary organized in a military fashion and following the model of the USMS – met with Congressional approval without much fanfare or debate on 5 June 1944:
Afterward, the subject was dropped, and a uniformed WSA Field Service did not reach fruition.
This did not stop members of the Field Service from wearing their khakis and placing insignia on combination caps and pith helmets. They also wore a repurposed Maritime Eagle with “Ships for Victory” inscribed upon it (it was once an award). Below find an example of their cap badge and Maritime Eagle.
References
United States Congress House Committee on Merchant Marine and Fisheries. Report of the War Shipping Administration on House Joint Resolution 182. Washington D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1943. N.B. Penned 15 November 1943 by E. S. Land.
United States Congress House Committee on Merchant Marine and Fisheries. War Shipping Field Service: hearings before the United States Senate Committee on Commerce, Seventy-Eighth Congress, first session, on Oct. 1, 5, 1943. Washington D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1943.
United States Congress House Committee on Merchant Marine and Fisheries. War Shipping Field Service: Hearings Before the Committee on Merchant Marine and Fisheries, 78th Congress, 1st Session, on House Joint Resolution 182, a Joint Resolution to Create the War Shipping Field Service, November 18 and 19, 1943. Washington D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1943.
United States War Shipping Administration. U.S. Merchant Marine at War. Washington D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1944.
In searching through the National Archives, a friend forwarded me a curious set of images that originated from a file on United States Maritime Service uniforms. It brought up a couple of questions: Where are these from? And, who wore this uniform?
U. S. Maritime Academy band uniform
The first question has an easy answer. The moniker in the specifications – “Maritime Academy” strikes out the uniform as being at any of the other United States Maritime Service-run schools; they were called “training stations” or “schools” during the war. Before Kings Point became known as the Merchant Marine Academy, it was sometimes referred to as the United States Maritime Academy in internal publications through 1943 – this places the uniform’s wear at the United States Merchant Marine Academy at Kings Point.
The second question is a little harder to pin down, but all evidence points to a professional bandsman. Like the United States Naval Academy at Annapolis and the United States Maritime Service training stations, the United States Merchant Marine Academy at Kings Point had a professional band; the years of its operation are unclear. There is evidence that the Academy had a professional band recruited from local New York City swing bands in 1942. Confusing matters, the Academy also had a band formed by cadet-midshipmen in 1944 – a Regimental “Dance Band.” This band was to alternate performances at Regimental dances with the Academy band. The Dance band eventually became today’s Regimental band.
Polaris, 1942
Could this be a uniform for a bandsman in the professional United States Merchant Marine Academy’s professional band or the cadet-midshipman Dance band? I would suggest, a professional bandsman; perhaps a band leader.
The illustrated uniform does not follow the pattern worn by other United States Maritime Service bandsmen, they wore fairly drab six-button coats without loops and lace. Also, in looking at the notions, the uniform buttons are of Cadet Corps-type, or star-anchor-star – pointing to the uniform as belonging to Kings Point. It is worth mentioning that instructors and the United States Maritime Service Ship’s Service men at Kings Point did not wear these buttons with their uniforms – theirs were the USMS-type. The cap badge is also of the cadet-midshipman type worn until 1944. It follows that bandsmen were not members of the United States Maritime Service but contracted musicians – they are absent from Midships and period Kings Point faculty rosters, except Lt. (jg) James F. Nilan (USMS) as the director in 1942. If we ignore the organizational incongruities and taken together, the cap badge and deck gun date the uniform between 1942 and 1944, and the location definitively is Kings Point. In terms of whether or not the Regimental Dance band wore the uniform (comprised of solely cadet-midshipmen), in 1944 we see both the Dance and Jazz Band wearing a variation of the USNA short coat – which was later donned by the entire Regiment – in 1944. Thus, could this be a professional bandsman uniform from 1942 through whenever the Academy band was disbanded.
Regimental Dance band, 1944.
In a rare photograph from March 1943, as seen below, there is a complement of bandsmen leading a parade of cadet-midshipmen from the Pass Christian Merchant Marine Cader Corps Basic School on Red Cross Day in Louis, Mississippi. The bandsmen are wearing the uniform coat, replete with sleeve braid (albeit muted) and collar insignia as seen in the first photograph; however, differing from the cadet-midshipmen following them and the first photograph, is the fact that their caps have black patent-leather chinstraps. This difference in cap construction, suggests the first photograph details a band leader. It is worth mentioning that the course of study at the Basic School was only a few months in duration, which would mean forming a cadet band would be impractical; thus, the bandsmen are most probably professional musicians.
Bay Street, Louis, Mississippi, Red Cross Day Parade, 22 March 1943.Choir leader & bugler, Kings Point, 1943.
In taking a careful look at the collar devices of the bandsmen as well as the badge on the sleeve of the choir leader from the Kings Point, 1943 image (on right), it appears that all devices were adopted from the wartime United States Navy band. The image on the right alludes to another, not documented, uniform configuration which mirrors that of midshipmen, but without cadet-midshipman insignia; interestingly. these bandsmen do not wear caps with black chinstraps.
from United States Navy Uniform Regulations, 1941.
Whatever the uniform below represents, it is unlike any other seen at Kings Point. We would only see some form of fancy dress later at Academy when the Regimental band was under Captain Kenneth Force; he introduced pomp in the 1970s. I have not seen any photographs proving or disproving that this specific uniform was in use – perhaps this is the proof. Perhaps.
Earlier this week the Congressional Gold Medal for World War II Merchant Mariners arrived in my mailbox. I was tapped to participate in the Design Committee in mid-2020; it was the greatest of honors to be involved in the committee to help guide the designers in crafting the medal – and even more an honor to assist in the celebration of America’s unsung heroes of the Second World War after all these years. Indeed, Merchant Mariners were belatedly given veteran’s status in 1988; however, their recognition took place at the Capitol, underlying the key role they played in winning the war.
In terms of the design itself, we on the Committee had been going back and forth over various designs without actually having any trial strikes or maquettes – holding the final result in my hand was pretty neat. I should mention, that the figures are a broad representation of a ship’s crew. I am really glad the Lundeberg Stetson was included – it is a nod to the unions; since, without their tacit cooperation, we would not have had anyone running the ships through the gauntlet. I had lots to say about the importance of the unions and officer’s cap and coat in our meetings – I am glad my suggestions were followed-up upon.
Apply for or purchase a Congressional Gold Medal Duplicate
A duplicate medal may be applied for or purchased; all medals available to veterans, their families, or the general public are struck in matte bronze. It is important to note Congressional Gold Medals awarded to groups are not an individual honor, group members do not receive their own gold medal – rather, a bronze medal. There is no limit to the number of medals an individual may purchase.
Application
The Merchant Mariners of World War II Congressional Gold Medal Act of 2020 authorizes the Maritime Administration (MARAD) to award duplicates of the medal to individuals who, between December 7, 1941, and December 31, 1946, were members of the United States Merchant Marine, or other related services – namely the Army Transport Service (ATS) or Navy Transport Service (NTS). If a qualified individual is no longer available to receive their medal, MARAD is authorized to issue a smaller duplicate of the medal to the next of kin.
To request a medal, MARAD asks that veterans or their family members or survivors submit (follow the bolded links for example documents – in the event you don’t know what you’re looking for):
Mariner’s Full Name
A copy of the Merchant Mariner’s DD Form 214, “Certificate of Release or Discharge from Active duty” with continuation sheet if provided (the DD Form 214 is required to verify Merchant Marine service on vessels during World War II – see the information below on how to file the DD-214);
A summary, if available, of World War II sailing history to include the theater(s) of operation and ports of discharge; and
Inquires, along with the required documents, can be emailed to Katrina McRae at the Office of Sealift Support: katrina.mcrae@dot.gov
N.B.: I suspect the “duplicate” as noted above to be the 3-inch medal, and the “smaller duplicate” to be the 1.5-inch medal. The image above is of the 3-inch medal.
Purchase
The medal may be purchased from the United States Mint. The orders are dispatched from the US Mint’s fulfillment center in Memphis, Tennessee; depending upon the destination address, medals may be received anywhere from four to fourteen days after processing if using standard shipping.
The US Mint offers the medal in two sizes: 1.5-inches or 3-inches in diameter. Although the mintage of either medal has not been published, using numbers from previous years (2017-2020), the US Mint struck an average of 3,780 3-inch medals, and 2,560 1.5-inch medals. Once all stocks are depleted, medals are not re-struck. The price (as of this writing) for each is $20.00 and $160.00, respectively.
Merchant Mariners of the Second World War may gain veteran’s status if they both prove their wartime service and if they hold an Honorable Discharge. Just like their uniformed peers, a discharge other than honorable invalidates a mariner from receiving veteran’s benefits – including receiving a duplicate of the Congressional Gold Medal. The key to this status is having a DD-214.
The DD-214 holds all pertinent information regarding a Merchant Mariner’s wartime service, including their positions aboard ships, vessels sailed, training stations attended, any decorations awarded, as well as the type of discharge they may hold. Unless they were kicked out of the industry or banned from War Shipping Administration ships – or did not skip out of training – most mariners served honorably.
As a note, for families of deceased veterans, the DD-214 allows for them to petition the United States Maritime Administration for replacement or missing wartime decorations awarded to their kin as well as a duplicate Congressional Gold Medal.
The US Coast Guard published a short Frequently Asked Questions document regarding the application process as well as information on what to provide in applying for a deceased relative. The document is here: https://www.dco.uscg.mil/Portals/9/NMC/pdfs/faq/WWII_veteran_faq.pdf
Many thanks are due to Sheila Sova of AMMV regarding the DD-214 application process.
At its outset, the United States Merchant Marine Academy’s predecessor, the United States Maritime Commission Cadet Corps bucked the prevalent sartorial trend and uniformed its members in the garb of a ship’s officer, eschewing the popular eight-button coat of the maritime cadet or midshipman. This ethos of non-conformity continued through the Second World War – culminating in the Kings Point cadet-midshipman jazz band taking the round coat of their Annapolis peers and eventually extending its wear to the Regiment. Headwear was no exception.
Garrison caps were first called “aviation caps” in Cadet Corps regulations; for good reason, they were the primary headgear worn by aviators; for some reason, Naval aviators did not have the tradition of wearing “crushers” like their Army Air Corps contemporaries (although sub sailors did). These caps first appeared in Cadet Corps sea bags in Summer 1941 and came in khaki with blue piping – piping was a notably a U.S. Army innovation; the color of the cord translated to the Corps a soldier belonged. Thus in a maritime setting, the Cadet Corps adopted this novel headgear before midshipmen at Annapolis or New London, or cadets at Fort Schuyler.
In terms of insignia on Cadet Corps garrison caps, the United States Maritime Commission (USMC) pin was worn on the left side from 1939 to 1942 with a blank blouse; at some point in 1942 it was replaced with Cadet Corps Shield and the piping was deleted from the cap. The anchor appeared on the blank curtain (triangle of folded cloth at the front) in June 1943. The shield remained until November 1943; after this date, the Merchant Marine service emblem replaced both the anchor and shield. It should be noted that the reason why there was no anchor device on the blouse between some point in 1942 and mid-1943, was because no anchor device existed at the time – only in 1943 did U.S. Navy officers begin wearing miniature devices on garrison caps.
White garrison caps first appeared in January 1941 in U.S. Navy sea bags; at the time, they were only worn with tropical uniforms (short sleeve shirts and shorts). As the Navy began building up shore installations in the Pacific, officers found their usual visor cap and sometimes pith helmets impractical (if not visually silly). The Navy looked to the U.S. Army for inspiration where garrison caps were the rule for “informal formal” wear. Clotheshorses that they were, since Naval officers needed something to wear with their tropical uniforms as they did with their service uniforms Stateside, voila: white garrison cap.
Maritime Commission Cadets on parade, Summer 1943
In Summer 1943, the recently-formed Merchant Marine Academy and its Basic Schools issued white service uniforms to its cadet-midshipmen along with a white garrison cap. The cap appears to have been first issued to members of the Cadet Corps at Cadet Basic School in Pass Christian, Mississippi; and curiously, it was seen on the parade ground in combination with the white service uniform – the military discipline of day (to which the Cadet Corps subscribed) forebade the public to ever see a service member in a garrison cap since it was considered undress; it was a gaffe on the order of a gentleman being seen in shirt sleeves in public. By Spring 1944, the white garrison cap was a memory.
In 1974, the United States Merchant Marine Academy removed a unique piece of headwear from midshipman seabags after twenty-eight years of use: a denim garrison cap. This cap was a unique uniform item only used at Kings Point and not at anywhere else among the sea services; the other state maritime or federal academies issued their inmates in white hats (Plebes wore a blue-rimmed hat at USNA) and eventually command ball caps.
November 1945 vs. December 1946
This garrison hat was issued from November 1946 through at most Spring 1974. The denim garrison cap supplanted khaki garrison caps that were previously worn with dungarees and chambray work shirts; its first appearance is noted in a photograph of a new thermodynamics laboratory. The change from khaki to denim makes sense as grease strains are extremely difficult to clean from khaki; and khaki garrison caps were worn for inspection and for “official, unofficial functions” and as such stains would reflect poorly on the wearer. Luckily, dungarees were work clothes and not subject to the rigors of inspection, except shirts were expected to be bloused. It was worn by Engineer midshipmen in shop and laboratory spaces, and by midshipmen assigned to maintenance activities in the dormitories (e.g. swabbing the deck). As for insignia, extant photographs show it featured both the midshipman anchor and Merchant Marine Service emblem, and without the anchor (like this example); this is due to the fact that cadets in their preliminary phase of training – their first couple of weeks at the Basic Schools – were not full members of Cadet Corps, and were in a preliminary state. Once they survived the first two weeks, they rated an anchor pin on their caps and hats. The disappearance of the Service Emblem occurred in the late 1950s, with the anchor remaining its only adornment.
In later years, the dungaree uniform, which came in both long and short-sleeve versions, was supplanted by the boiler suit. This uniform was an integral pair of trousers and a shirt in dark blue. It was a popular article of wear in civilian machine shops and was de rigueur in U.S. Navy hull repair and engineering spaces. From 1973-1975, there were two years of un-uniformity in Kings Point’s working uniforms and allied headwear.
Last sighting of denim garrison cap, Midships 1973 & 1975
In Fall 1974, the denim cap was removed as an item of wear for the class of ’76 and replaced with a command ball cap after nearly thirty years of official wear. Kings Pointers afterward wore caps like those worn at Annapolis – and no longer was a distinctive visual emblem of the Cadet Corps. Prior to full abolishment of the denim cap, degrading Kings Point’s distinctive look was the retirement of dungarees; apparently, the Superintendent’s wife thought midshipmen wearing the dungaree uniform made them look like “hippies” (it must have been the flared pant legs of their Seafarer dungaree trousers). Their uniforms were summarily replaced with polyester boiler suits in 1973. The switch over was not complete across all classes as upperclassmen still wore their dungarees (see the image above). By the end of the 1970s, Kings Point willfully shed most of its idiosyncratic uniform components and adopted a marked Naval Reserve Officer Training Corps appearance – the denim garrison cap was the third uniform item, after the Zombo shoulder boards and hippie dungarees in a long line of abandonments.
Command ball caps at Annapolis and Kings Point, Fall 974
Special thanks are due to Thomas F. McCaffery, USMMA ’76.
Unlike today’s freighters where a crew can be aboard for several soul-crushing months at a time without seeing a port, freighters in the 1940s and 1950s made frequent port calls – either for replenishment of stores or cargo transfers. Port calls for a ship’s crew meant a jaunt around the port district or visits to places further afield. Sometimes, a merchant seaman might go to a seedy bookshop and purchase a racy postcard and magazine or two, or maybe see a show. Despite popular conceptions of them having libertine sensibilities, most seamen did not have a penchant for hard liquor and frequenting jiggle joints. For the most part, merchant seamen operated under the mores of their era and their appetites by today’s standards would be considered tame – yet context is important. And so, from time to time, when families sift through mementos of their merchant mariner relatives, strange risque photocards and the odd cheesecake snapshot may appear. These may be of friends or lovers of the moment. And other times, a photograph may appear and instantly becomes the site of trauma.
The photograph below was produced by an ex-Merchant Marine man by the name of David C. Tucker. He snapped photographs for local media in Baltimore, Maryland primarily of the waterfront; with his output being of ships and shipping. However, he apparently also traded in fetish images – a trio have surfaced of a semi-nude without context from 1947; this series, in particular, features a young woman holding the props of a majorette. During the mid-1940s through the 1950s, majorettes were a theme of pin-up artists with images gracing calendars and invariably a trope of burlesque performers. From a composition standpoint, Mr. Tucker has the majorette character not engaging the gaze of the viewer, which would imply licentiousness. As opposed to a demure look to the side which would convey that the majorette is a coquette, and thus inviting the male gaze, Mr. Tucker’s majorette is posed looking away from the viewer; this gives the image an almost voyeuristic quality. Albeit, the sheer fabric of the costume suggests the voyeur’s imagination has penetrated the layers of clothing and rambles freely over the almost naked form of the object of their gaze. This photograph could have been a promotional copy for a burlesque dancer, however, the envelope suggests it was sold for fetish purposes since it lacks the performer’s name.
This specific image was once in the collection of an ex-Merchant Mariner whose adult child discovered it while cleaning out her father’s belongings after his death. The other two images in the series were destroyed due to water damage. The destroyed images comprised one image of the majorette character with the baton pressed against her breasts, and another without a baton; both in the same pose as the one presented.
The discovery of the photographs was disturbing for the daughter as she was a majorette in junior and senior high school – the period when this photograph was procured by her father. Although I did not press the finder of the image, she stated that after finding it, many questions she had about her father fell into place and the unease she felt growing up – that she, in her youth banished as the markers of paranoid thought – came rushing back. Along with these photographs were others of her and her friends as majorettes. She mentioned how he looked at her when she was a young woman and made passes at her teenage friends.
She told me her father was a war veteran and he was quiet about what he experienced out at sea; he once and only once spoke of a buddy whose body was ripped apart by shrapnel and how others who were washed off deck and burned alive in flaming oil slicks while his convoy was attacked. He must have been traumatized, I said. “He took it out on ma and me.” She told me she could not tell me what he did, but it was all very wrong in retrospect, “A father does not do what he did to his daughter.”
The photograph and the narrative that accompany it affected me deeply for several years – especially since the daughter passed away and her surviving family knows nothing of their grandfather, his war service, or much of who he was. The story and the revelation brought to the fore the veritable code of silence that has pervaded the lives of those who lived through the trauma of the war and domestic abuse; the daughter linked what her mother said about how her father changed from an optimistic man to a sullen one when he returned. If he had treatment, if he talked, perhaps things that had happened would not have, I posited. The photograph, easily overlooked as a racy pin-up, when put in the context of the abuse it represented to the daughter, had me look at it as a perverse memento by a damaged man.
In no way do I wish to besmirch the good deeds and sacrifices done by the few for the many by presenting this story; I am, though, left asking how we have so quickly forgotten the horrors merchant seamen underwent and how some “cracked” by the weight of their pain. Some lost themselves in drink, others by womanizing, and others to abusing those who loved and trusted them. If this fellow had access to psychiatric care as offered to service members who returned from the war, would his pain have manifested itself in abuse? This is a question that may never have an answer.
In 1972 the Soviet Union and Europe suffered a drought that resulted in catastrophic crop failures. Although the Soviet Union was perenially plagued with periodic droughts and crop failure, 1972 was significant since the main crop affected was wheat – a dietary mainstay for both people and livestock. This failure brought about talks between the United States and the Soviet Union that culminated in the grain agreement of 1975 between the two countries; the United States pledged to send 8 million tons of wheat a year to the Soviet Union. This agreement was significant for the Unites States shipping industry as it came on the heels of the United States-Soviet Maritime Agreement of 1972. The earlier deal called for one-third of the U.S.-Soviet trade to be carried in U.S.-flag vessels, one-third in Soviet-flag vessels, and one-third in third flag vessels – the latter enabled United States’ allies to benefit from the trade agreement. In addition, part of the 1972 agreement was the opening of 40 United States and the reciprocal opening of 40 Soviet ports to trade. As a result, the Soviet grain trade offered a steep increase in American ships visiting Soviet ports.
“The [1972] accord, described by the Administration as “an indispensable first step” toward a contemplated vast increase in Soviet-American commercial relations, also provides for the unloading and loading of Soviet merchant vessels in East Coast and Gulf Coast ports for the first time since 1963. New York, Philadelphia, and Baltimore are among the United States ports in which American union leaders have agreed to handle Soviet vessels under the over-all accord.”
Of those ports opened to the West was Petrograd, today’s St. Petersburg. Due to both accords, Petrograd saw both the import of grain and a collateral clandestine trade in foreign media grow. Soviet merchant sailor sea bags increasingly contained magazines, newspapers, records, and pornography; they imported these materials at their peril: the Soviet state followed a stringent policy of censorship and ban on materials deemed subversive to the Communist Party, the State, and society. In spite (or despite) the threat of imprisonment or worse, the trade of forbidden items flourished in Petrograd and other large urban areas. Media was often translated and copied via various means and entered the underground economy in forbidden texts; these materials had the blanket term samizdat (самиздат). This was a coy play on the word Gosizdat (Госиздат):
“[Which] is a telescoping of Gosudarstvennoye Izdatelstvo, the name of the monopoly‐wielding State Publishing House. The same part of the new word means “self.” The whole samizdat—translates as: “We publish ourselves”—that is, not the state, but we, the people.”
The means of samizdat production could be by the author of the media or by a reader – and thus not sanctioned, and being forbidden, it circulated outside of official distribution channels. All media in the Soviet Union was censored and sold under license by the State; samizdat, not so – it circulated under the noses of the authorities. In early periods, samizdat came in typewritten, photographic, or longhand forms; by the end of the Soviet era, some were produced via primitive computer word processing applications. Examples of samizdat comprise of smuggled books may be found where their pages were photographed and cut to size and stapled or sewn together and glued into a cover of another book; still, others were created with photostats placed between plain cardboard wrappers, or simply stapled-together manuscripts. An underlying ethos of samizdat was that the production of these materials meant resistance to state repression, and to resist was a means to live.
In the late-1970s, when the Soviet Union opened itself ever so carefully to the West in a time of need, did an American merchant seaman acquire the small collection of photographs below for a carton of cigarettes and smuggle them out of Petrograd to the United States. The collection features a series of four photographs and a single photograph. I am unsure if the four and the one are connected; the latter is a single photograph of a woman posing like a Greek statue; the remaining four photographs offer some sort of erotic social satire – as explained to me, they employ universal characters of the Soviet period used in dirty or satirical stories: a militiaman, a market trader from the Caucasus, a street tough, and a bodybuilder. Each hunts for a woman’s body and attempts to possess her; in the end, she chooses the bodybuilder, to the chagrin of all.
Samizdat often seen by Westerners involves forbidden literature such as the political tract “Memoirs of a Bolshevik-Leninist” or hand-made books; photographs such as this collection are rarely commented upon. Nevertheless, despite the harsh cultural repression at play in the Soviet Union, the images represent resistance and the need to poke fun at authority.
This was quite the trade for a carton of cigarettes. My lingering question is what was the context that led to the trade.
War Shipping Administration, U.S. Maritime Service training cadre CPO/trainee. 1942.
U.S. Maritime Service Chief Petty Office cap badge (Type 2a – Variant 1) One-piece construction. Seal, 25mm diameter; Anchor, 50mm length. A. E. Co. (American Emblem Company, Utica, New York) hallmark. Anchor and device stamped nickel; red enamel band and shield. Circa 1942.
This is the first example of the second design of the USMS CPO hat badge; the first design was worn briefly from 1941, up until WSA control of the USMS in July 1942 with the illustrated badge appearing in August 1942. The former badge may be found in plain brass as well as in nickel – as is the case of this badge. This badge, appearing in nickel is a bridge between the more common second design manufactured by Coro in silver plate.
It is unknown at this time whether or not American Emblem Company manufactured a miniature of this device. It is also unknown if there are collar dogs made by American Emblem Company; thus far, only Coro hallmarked examples are known.
USMS CPO Hat badge, obverse.
USMS CPO Hat badge, reverse. A close-up of the reverse details the A. E. Co (American Emblem Company) hallmark as well as the relative thinness of the badge. This variant, most likely due to the preponderance of Coro badges may be of a short, limited run. Coro, it is noted, did not produce the first variant of the CPO badge. Either A. E. Co. nor Coro produced the USMS commissioned officer cap badge patterns from 1942 onward.
Current ship wardroom plaques, otherwise known as ship’s plaques or ship’s emblems, or formally as ship’s badges came from an old tradition that reaches back to the age of sail. As a means of identification, sailing ships used carved figureheads as a distinguishing feature; however, with the move from sail to steam, there was no place on the prow or the bow to place ornate carvings. Utilitarianism eventually won out over embellishment and on haze-gray hulls became painted dull numbers and names. Yet, sailors wished to hold on to tradition and over time developed a system of naval heraldry; similar to, but distinct from that of landsmen.
Ships’ badges first appeared on United Kingdom Royal Navy vessels in the 1850s. Originally, they were found on ship’s stationery, and this innovation came to mark the small boats assigned to a ship and also the ship itself, on the bridge. The Admiralty decided to reign in the rather haphazard means of creating badges and appointed its first advisor on naval heraldry in the person of Charles ffoulkes, then curator of the Imperial War Museum, in 1918. He picked up the mantle of the Ships’ Badge Committee. Their main innovation was the use of a visual means to determine the class of ship or establishment by shape of badge: circular (battleships and battle cruisers), pentagonal (cruisers), U-shaped shield (destroyers), and diamond (shore establishments, depot ships, small war vessels, and aircraft carriers).
By 1940, the designs for all ships were standardized to a circular design. This was due to the bureaucratic nightmare of re-use of names on newly commissioned ships requiring re-configuration of badges to match ship type. Post-war, After the war, the pentagonal badge shape was assigned to Royal Fleet Auxiliary vessels and the diamond to commissioned shore establishments. RRS ship also used a circular configuration badge was noted in the example of the RRS Shackleton.
The RRS Shackleton was in service with the Falkland Islands Dependencies Survey (FIDS)/British Antarctic Survey (BAS) from 1955/56 until 1968/69. Her role was primarily that of a survey and science vessel, supporting marine geophysics programs. Originally named the Arendal, she was built in 1954 at Sölvesborg in Sweden for Arendals Dampskibsselskab, Norway. In August 1955, she was bought by FIDS for £230,000, and further strengthened for work in sea ice. She was renamed RRS Shackleton by Mrs. Arthur, wife of the then Governor of the Falkland Islands and Dependencies, in a ceremony at Southampton on 19 December 1955.
Her namesake is Sir Ernest Shackleton, 1874-1922, one of the most famous figures from the Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration. Sir Shackleton served on Scott’s Discovery Expedition (British National Antarctic Expedition) 1901-04, he led the Nimrod Expedition (British Antarctic Expedition) 1907-09 but is most well-known for the Endurance Expedition (Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition) 1914–17 – a remarkable story of survival against the odds. Sir Shackleton died during the Quest Expedition (Shackleton-Rowett Antarctic Expedition) 1921-1922, and is buried in the whalers’ graveyard at Grytviken, South Georgia.
From 1969, the RRS Shackleton was operated by BAS’s parent body, NERC (Natural Environment Research Council) as an oceanographic research vessel. Under NERC ownership she carried out geophysical and marine geology cruises in Antarctic waters until being withdrawn from service in May 1983 and sold.
Technical specification Lloyds classification: 2-3 for ice Dimensions: length 200 ft 6 ins; breadth 36 ft 1 ins Loaded displacement: 1658 tons Gross tonnage: 1102 tons Propulsion: diesel engine, 785 SHP Speed: service speed 12 knots Port of registry Stanley, Falkland Islands
A second ship was also named after Ernest Shackleton in 1999 – the current RRS Ernest Shackleton.
Several years ago, I received a lovely collection of Merchant Marine memorabilia, and was my custom, I queried the sender if there was anything known about the original owner: James Thomas Bowling. For over a month, I had a lively correspondence with the original owner’s son. After a couple of exchanges, he shared a trove of documents with me – some captured from Ancestry.com.
Since I’m generally a stickler for documentation, I was more than delighted to be provided with copies of Mr. Bowling’s career data – from his First World War draft card to his résumé upon retirement. And one line item intrigued me:
Decorations: Order of St. Sava (Serbian)
This medal was awarded to Mr. Bowling due to his deeds in support of the Kingdom of Serbia during the First World War. The collection I had in my possession has a number of standard Second World War Merchant Marine Award cards, ribbons, and badges, but no Serbian award document nor the Order of St. Sava decoration itself. The objects alone speak to an active career: one where Mr. Bowling reached license status through the hawsepipe and experienced the horrors of the Second World War. As often happens over time, medals are sold, given away, or lost, so the medal not being present in the collection makes sense. However, after rolling it around, something struck me as off about the Order of St. Sava.
The decorations note came directly from Ancestry, yet, the website had no original media to consult. As luck would have it, I stumbled across the cited volume in a digitized library while looking for something else. I was finally able to look at the text and see if the Order of St. Sava was in his record. It was not.
from: Maryland in the World War, 1917-1919; Military and Naval Service Records. Vol. I. Baltimore: Twentieth Century Press, 1933, p, 198.
Mr. Bowling’s military experience in the First World War was brief. He is identified in the record above as a militiaman who was later subsumed into the U.S. Navy proper, or more specific: “NRF (MNM) app sea” denotes him as a Seaman Apprentice in the Maryland Naval Militia, later Naval Reserve Force.
The Maryland Naval Militia was mobilized at 6:00 pm on 6 April 1917, and all militiamen reported to the USS Missouri (BB-11) for duty three days later at the Philadelphia Navy Yard. Interestingly, he is noted as being on the USS Missouri from 6 April – 9 April 1917; this is probably an administrative place-holder since no militiamen were at the Navy Yard until the ninth. After 9 April, Mr. Bowling was a member of the Navy-proper. As a Naval Reservist, he reported to USS Indiana (BB-1), a gunnery and engineering training ship moored off Staten Island, New York (9 April – 16 April 1917). He was then at the Fourth Naval District in Philadelphia in an unknown capacity (16 April – 16 June 1917) – most probably for training. After his sojourn in Philadephia, he was assigned to the newly re-commissioned USS Massachusetts (BB-2) seven days after it entered service. The USS Massachusetts spent its time during Mr. Bowling’s tenure aboard steaming from Philadelphia to Block Island. On 24 July 1917, he was at the United States Naval Home in Philadelphia and then separated from service just before Christmas on 21 December 1917.
I am not quite sure what Mr. Bowling was doing at the Naval Home; it was a convalescent home for old sailors and had a medical facility during the war. If Mr. Bowling was injured during his Naval service, I could not say; a United States Maritime Service Regular Enrollment certificate from 1942 indicates him as having a “midline abdominal scar” – which may be been a result of a great many things between 1917 and 1942. However, his work with the U.S. Navy did not bring him close to Serbia or the Adriatic Sea.
The only two recorded service members from Maryland who received the medal do not include Mr. Bowling:
from: Maryland in the World War, 1917-1919; Military and Naval Service Records. Vol. I. Baltimore: Twentieth Century Press, 1933, p, 243.
I would have loved to say Mr. Bowling received this exceptional and beautiful medal; however, Ancestry’s transcription of his record was in error. Also missing among Mr. Bowling’s items is the World War Victory Medal; this is due to no fault of his own – the U.S. Navy began sending it out to all those who served on active duty during the war in 1920. And, of the 500,000 people eligible to receive the medal in the U.S. Navy, about half never claimed their medal. Claiming the medal involved providing a notarized copy of one’s discharge papers to the nearest Naval Recruiting Office or the Naval Department itself; in 1920, Mr. Bowling was an oiler at sea, and going to an American Legion hall to fill out a form was probably low on his priority list at the time. He also left the U.S. Navy with a dishonorable discharge, so his love for military service was probably low as well.
So, no medal for you.
In the intervening years between my initial research of Mr. Bowling’s career and now, I became quite interested in the Order of St. Sava. As a result, I obtained an example to add to my collection. It is a beautiful object and is one of my favorite medals.
King Milan Obrenović IV of Serbia founded the Order of Saint Sava on 24 February 1883, and it remained in force through the reign of rival Karađorđević rulers of the Kingdom Serbia and later Yugoslavia (they took over after their allies assassinated King Milan’s son in 1903). However, its award ceased with the invasion of the Kingdom of Yugoslavia in 1941. Furthermore, the creation of the communist Republic of Yugoslavia in 1945 saw the order dropped as a state award. Although, King Peter II – the last reigning king of Yugoslavia – made a handful of awards in exile in the intervening years before his death in 1970. It began as a military award, but its scope expanded. It was awarded to individuals as a tribute to either humanitarian or military service to the Kingdom of Serbia through the First World War on through the 1930s.
The medal is a silver-gilt Maltese cross with balls at the tips of the cross with blue and white enamels. In between each of the arms of the cross, it has a Serbian double-headed eagle with an inescutcheon comprising of a red shield with a white cross in the midst of four firesteels.
The obverse central medallion portrays the Serbian national Saint Sava in green vestments surrounded by a blue band; on the band is inscribed “BY HIS TALENTS HE ACQUIRED ALL” (in translation). The reverse shows the silver filigree date 1883 (the year of the Order’s foundation), surrounded by a blue band with an inscribed gold laurel wreath.
The medal is suspended by a gold crown. The triangular ribbon is white with two blue stripes along the borders.
This medal is the 2nd model, 2nd pattern, Fourth Class Knight’s Cross, dating from 1921-1941.
References
Merle T. Cole. “Maryland’s Naval Militia, 1891-1940.” Maryland Historical Magazine, 90 (Spring 1995). pp. 56-71.
Alexander J. Laslo. The Interallied Victory Medals of World War I. Pieces of History; Revised edition (1 June 1992). Albuqueque: Dorado Publishing, 1992.
Maryland War Records Commission. Maryland in the World War, 1917-1919; Military and Naval Service Records. Vol. I. Baltimore: Twentieth Century Press, 1933.
