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.
Army Transport Service (ATS) troopships held crews of considerable size, any large ship with more than a dozen folks was bound to have its share of interpersonal dynamics that might eventually come to blows. And for that, the ATS had a Master-at-arms and an assistant Master-at-arms stationed mostly aboard their troop and hospital ships. The responsibility of these individuals involved ship’s security and crew policing duties; and, unlike members of a Shore Patrol, their positions were permanent.
ATS uniform regulations plate, 1943.
The position is one of the oldest within the ATS, with its distinctive insignia of a five-pointed star appearing in ATS uniform regulations in 1899. The insignia for the Master-at-arms and the assistant Master-at-arms during this period comprised of an embroidered cap badge in gold bullion – it was a wreath with a center device of a star. ATS Masters-at-arms (MAA) had Chief Petty Officer (CPO) rank, with their uniform mirroring that of their U.S. Navy counterparts: double-breasted coat with a roll collar and blue or white trousers. Unlike their counterparts, however, ATS CPOs wore double rows of five and not four buttons, and wore no rank insignia on their sleeves. In 1930, the insignia on the cap changed to that of crossed batons.
What may be construed as a departure from nautical uniforming during the period – the wear of trade specialty on a cap badge – reflects more of the military nature of the ATS. The ATS was run by the U.S. Army Quartermaster Corps and fell along the lines of a logistic enterprise. The U.S. Army, beginning with uniform regulations in 1877, stipulated that a soldier’s corps – which might be considered a trade – be worn on their caps; and these devices were surrounded by a wreath of gold bullion laurel leaves. Given that the civilian seaman had specific trades onboard, it followed they too would wear insignia representing their specialty on their caps. The U.S. Army, unlike the U.S. Navy, did not wear trade badges on their sleeves, thus this is why they are absent from the uniforms of their contract seamen. However ATS insignia, especially that of their MAAs was initially influenced that the insignia of the U.S. Navy MAAs.
1866, U.S. Navy Master-at-arms
1886, U.S. Navy Master-at-arms First Class
The ATS Master-at-arms insignia of a star came directly from the enlisted rating badge of the same position in the U.S. Navy. The first U.S. Navy Master-at-arms rating badge appeared in 1866 and comprised of a star surmounting an anchor; this badge was worn on the forearm; the second rating badge was from 1885 and was reserved for petty officers and this took the form of three arcs over three chevrons with a star inside the arc and an eagle perched on the arc – do note: in 1893, this badge was re-used for chief petty officers, and the rating badge for first, second, third petty officers comprised of three, two, and one chevron with a star and eagle above, respecticely. Interestingly, there was a rate called ship’s corporal and it had the two chevrons of a petty officer, second class with the star; this position was in existence between 1885 and 1893 – in 1893 the position was abolished and absorbed into Master-at-arms rate. The original MAA rating badge (on left, above) had a star with one ray pointing up; with the redesign of insignia in the late 1800s (on right, above), followed the new style where all U.S. Navy star devices had a single ray pointing downward.
The star on the MAA rating badge is one of the more abstract trade symbols to decode – whereas other trade badges may have a symbol for a tool; e.g. carpenter’s square for carpenters, or gun turret for gunners – since Masters-at-arms wore no police badge (which some old salts attest the star must represent). The U.S. Navy, being a wholly Federal body used U.S. national symbols as part of its identity; in 1862, commissioned officers began wearing what came to be known as the “executive star” on their cuffs. The star, in this context, was a symbol of authority passed to them from the President of the United States. In this light, the star as a specialty mark for Masters-at-arms indicated that these petty officers were charged with keeping order onboard through the authority of the captain. In the ATS case, the star was adopted without this heavily laden symbology and was handed to ATS MAAs as a recognized trade symbol. Nevertheless, by 1930, the ATS Master-at-arms star became replaced by a shoreside symbol of authority – crossed batons for no apparent reason. Although the MAA insignia is that of a traditional baton, they allude strongly to the clubs used by shoreside police; similar to those they carried while on duty.
ATS MAA 1899-1930
ATS MAA 1946
The ATS of the 1940s was relatively unregulated in terms of what ship’s officers and crew wore for their uniforms insignia. The U.S. Army did publish uniform manuals, but these were taken more as a suggestion since a seaman’s job was to work and not stand for daily inspection. Wardroom officers took a more serious view toward their uniforms and insignia, but mainly when they were shoreside. Despite crossed batons being the official insignia for ATS MAAs, the star device re-appeared during the Second World War in two formats: bullion embroidered cap badges, and an ersatz metal star combined with a U.S. Maritime Service officer’s cap badge wreath. The former was worn through 1943, and the latter mid-war until the end up until the formation of the Military Sea Transportation Service (USMS). Crossed batons remained the official insignia and became enforced with the publication of USMS uniform regulations in 1952.
ATS MAA 1942
ATS MAA 1942
Ersatz ATS MAA 1943
Ersatz ATS MAA 1943
For seamen aboard ATS ships, due to star on the ATS Master-at-arms cap badge, MAAs were called “ship’s sheriffs.” As for the ubiquitous presence of the star device, it may be due to supply and demand issues: suppliers may have continued producing the old design or quartermasters did not issue the cap badges with the crossed batons until the old stock wore or ran out. There are two curious examples of the cap badge: above, the “ATS MAA 1946” cap badge – it was stamped brass and only seen after the war; and a bit more curious is the example in the photograph below – there are well-documented examples of ATS seamen wearing USMS cap badges with the eagle removed to denote a deck petty officer, but the metal star shows a bit of ingenuity. The stars for the former were originally manufactured for U.S. Navy commissioned officer shoulder boards to take the place of the embroidered stars – it was far more expedient to use a stamped-metal star than a woven one; however, these shoulder boards were not worn for long as they were unpopular in the officer community. Seeing the re-use for the ship’s sheriff is quite interesting. All N.S. Meyer hallmarked examples of the latter were produced for the collecting community after line drawings by Herbert Booker in Rudy Basurto Insignia of America’s Little Known Seafarers.
Photograph courtesy of Debbie Fleming via Joe Davis. See ship’s sheriff on right.
U.S. Navy V-7 midshipman cap badge. Single piece construction. Fouled anchor; gold-filled. Late Second World War era.
Herman Wouk, August 1942.
Almost twenty years ago I read Herman Wouk’s 1951 Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, The Caine Mutiny. Recalling Captain Queeg, ball bearings, and strawberries, I recently decided to re-read the novel. The work fashions a re-creation of the culture of urgency that both defined and circumscribed midshipman life during the Second World War. It accomplishes this by detailing the career of a U.S. Navy midshipman at Columbia University. Soon after completing this reading, I learned that Wouk not only took part in the V-7 midshipman program but he both attended and graduated from the U.S. Naval Reserve Midshipmen’s School at Columbia University.
Following this lead, I consulted a series of the program’s yearbooks – The Sideboy – and found Wouk in the August 1942 class. His company barracked at Furnald Hall, as did the protagonist of The Caine Mutiny: Willie Keith. Wouk’s descriptions of the place and the program match both Columbia and the photos in The Sideboy. Thus, despite his novel being a work of historical fiction, it offers a rare insight and serves as a good primary source as to the functions of a little-studied midshipman organization.
The V-7 program was one of four Reserve officer-intake programs inaugurated by the U.S. Navy in February 1942 (V-1, V-5, V-7, and V-12). V-7 was one in which recent college graduates or men about to complete their college training, were accepted by the U.S. Navy as apprentice seamen and sent to one of the seven Reserve Midshipmen’s Schools: Columbia, Cornell, Naval Academy at Annapolis, Northwestern, Notre Dame, Plattsburg, and Fort Schuyler. At the program’s outset, candidates served an initial month as seamen followed by four as an appointed midshipman; by war’s end, this was compressed to three. After this period of intense naval indoctrination, they were granted commissions as ensigns and went directly to the Fleet or to one of the numerous special advanced schools for final training; e.g. Wouk attended one of such at Harvard for Communications. Of his sojourn at the Midshipmen’s school and time with the Fleet, Wouk admitted that it figured as a major part of his education: “I learned about machinery, I learned how men behaved under pressure, and I learned about Americans.”
Columbia University Midshipmen’s Training Marker
At Columbia University there is a plaque commemorating the Midshipmen’s School, which operated on its campus during the Second World War. It was presented to the University at the cessation of school’s activities. It may be viewed on the south side of campus at Butler Library and is located on the east balustrade of the short staircase approaching Butler Library, just below waist level. It reads:
To Columbia University
In appreciation of its generous assistance and unceasing cooperation in the training of 23,000 officers who went from the U.S. Naval Reserve Midshipmen’s School New York to Active Duty in World War II to defend the principals which this University has always upheld
Commodore John K. Richards, U.S. Navy Commanding Officer April 20, 1942 November 2, 1945
Seal of U.S. Naval Reserve Midshipmen’s School
The U.S. Navy eventually used twelve Columbia buildings, including Furnald and John Jay Halls, to house the Midshipmen’s school; classes were held on Columbia’s Morningside campus and in a ship docked at Riverside and West 136th Street on the Hudson River. At one point, Columbia University’s USNR Midshipmen’s School rivaled the United States Naval Academy in size. In all, it trained more than 20,000 officers; most of whom served in the Pacific Theatre of Operations.
The following narrative of the Columbia USNR Midshipmen’s School is based upon two consecutive classes; the 7th of August 1942 and the 8th of October 1942. Within that three-month period, vast changes occurred in the fabric of the program.
Program candidates began their initial training at Notre Dame in April 1942. After two weeks of apprenticeship training, they traveled to Columbia for a continuation of their indoctrination. They were divided into two groups: Engineering and Deck. By graduation from the program, only 429 of the 500 of the former remained, and 284 of 350 of the latter. The instructional staff guiding the training of the midshipmen was divided into the following departments:
Administration Drill Navigation Seamanship Ordnance Construction and Main Engines Boilers and Auxiliaries Deck for Engineering Engineering for Deck Medical Corps Supply
Some senior officers were regular Navy. However, the majority of the staff were young USNR ensigns assisted by Chief Petty Officers and a few Warrant Officers.
Following the model as set at Annapolis, USNR Midshipmen followed a regimental and battalion structure. There were two battalions; the 1st at the USS Prairie State (a barracks ship known as “The Ark” or “Black Hole of Calcutta”) and the 2nd at Furnald Hall (the USS Furnald, the only ship with 10 decks – the lower deck was on top and vice versa). Each Battalion was comprised of four and three companies, respectively. Midshipmen stood watch, served in “black gangs,” drilled, and attended class from morning until night for each day of the week – unless granted weekend liberty or attending divine worship services.
The Regimental staff was comprised of a Staff and Color Guard component. The noted stripe count represents the number of stripes on the midshipman’s sleeve:
In August 1942, V-7 midshipmen at Columbia wore uniforms almost exactly like those of their counterparts at Annapolis, with some distinct changes. Since theirs was a four-month program with the classes compressed and joining year-round, their “plebe” period saw midshipmen wearing the appropriate uniform for the season. For instance, the October 1942 class started out wearing US Navy enlisted undress blues for their initial period at Notre Dame, then switched to the familiar usual plebe whites. These were USN enlisted undress white jumpers with stenciled U.S.N.R. at mid-chest on the blouse; the midshipmen-to-be were not issued black silk scarfs. Both uniforms shared the blue-rimmed white hat – at the time called a Bob Evans hat, and now colloquially called a Dixie-cup hat. Those apprentices holding a Company and above leadership, position wore a white covered combination cap, and not the white hat with their undress whites or blues.
Those passing basic indoctrination period – not being “bilged” – rated full USNR Midshipman status. They, in turn, gained the privilege of donning the six-button midshipman reefer, with the classic midshipman gold anchors on the upper coat collars. On the right cuff, they wore a three-prop propeller for Engineering or a nautical navigation triangle (also known as a Portland Navigational Triangle) for Deck as program markers. There were no “class” indicators of the vertical gold stripes on the coat sleeve like those at Annapolis; however, regimental officers wore horizontal rank stripes on both sleeves (with program indicator above, no stars). There were four, three, two, and one stripers as indicated above. Midshipmen petty officers and buglers, during this period, did not have crows and chevrons, nor bugle patches.
Columbia University U.S Navy V-7 Deck program insigne, 1942.
Depending upon the program, midshipmen wore dungarees, undress whites and blues (crackerjacks without tape or silk ties), khakis, and dress blues. Both programs wore dungarees were worn in machine spaces; Engineering midshipmen wore undress blues or whites depending on season in classrooms; and Deck midshipman wore undress khakis (without jackets) in classrooms. For Friday drill and inspection, all midshipmen wore service dress blues and combination caps with white covers. Regarding the khaki uniforms, midshipmen wore combination caps with khaki covers with a 1/8in-width gold chinstrap and on both collars, wore anchor devices on both collars. The anchor shank was horizontal in relation to the top of the wearer’s collar, with flukes inboard toward the neck, and stock outboard.
By September 1942, the USNR program at Columbia University contracted to four companies and comprised only of the Engineering program; the unique insigne for Deck become obsolete; yet, the midshipmen continued to wear the propellor insigne.
Columbia University, V-7 Engineering program. First Batallion officers, August 1942.
By comparison, at war’s end, Fort Schuyler’s V-7 program yearbook Gangway (published in October 1945) shows an altogether different organization of USNR Midshipmen. Their program was also for a period of four months. Images and texts suggest a need for expediency. Teaching methods and means of turning out newly minted Naval Officers was honed to a science; anything not tantamount to the ultimate purpose of producing officers was cut.
In uniform matters, from the laconic description of the program and presentation of collective memories, there is no indication of a plebe period where program inductees wore jumpers and Dixie-cup hats. These Atlantic Coast midshipmen wore working grays and were provided with service dress blues. They were not issued khaki uniforms. On their garrison hats was the midshipman anchor. They wore sets of horizontal midshipmen class anchors on their shirt collars. The service dress blues was the classic six-button USN officer uniform – except the coat collar had the midshipman anchor like those found on period Annapolis midshipman caps. These anchors were mirror images of each other, and are pin-back, and not with cap-screws (tabs). I see no indication of midshipman leadership positions; this program appears to be more of a boot-camp style organization. Midshipmen lacked chevrons, hashes, and shoulder boards on all uniforms – including the grays.
United States Maritime Commission Cadet Corps Training Cadre/Cadet Officer cap badge. Single piece construction. Woven in silver and bullion. Circa 1939-1940.
In the past, I’ve been asked if I’ve ever come across any examples of the United States Maritime Service (USMS) officer cap badge with eagles facing their left (viewer’s right). For researchers of U.S. Navy uniforms, the way the eagle faces has always been a good rule of thumb to date whether or not a naval cap or uniform is either pre-1941 or post-1941; U.S. Navy eagles began facing their own right (viewer’s left) from May 1941, onward. In this light, the question is valid, especially given that a naval badge awarded to merchant seamen – the U.S.N.R. badge – obeyed this stylistic maxim. But, in regard to USMS cap eagles, my answer has always been: I’m not sure. However, after examining early United States Maritime Commission Cadet Corps (USMC-CC) photographs, I can say with some certainty that there never was a USMC-CC/USMS cap eagle that faced their left.
I mention the USMC-CC and not USMS, since prior to the United States’ entry into the Second World War, the United States Maritime Commission had two training activities with two different missions with its own distinct set of uniforms and insignia. The USMC-CC was involved in training maritime cadets: that is young men out of high school or college who wished to become ship’s officers; and, the USMS was concerned with upgrade courses for merchant seamen to become licensed ships officers and basic seamanship training for entry-level positions in the merchant fleet. In no way did the insignia of these two organizations overlap; the USMS had a distinct U.S. Coast Guard feel to it since the Coast Guard was charged with administering training mission; whereas the Cadet Corps’ commandants and instructors were either drawn from the US Navy or officers in the Merchant Marine and enrolled in the U.S. Navy’s Merchant Marine Reserve, thus informing USMC-CC’s uniforming. With USMC’s training activity reorganization in July 1942, the USMS took training from the U.S. Coast Guard and assumed the administration of the USMC-CC. training.
U.S. Maritime Commission – U.S. Maritime Service, Captain. circa 1938-1941.
U.S. Maritime Commission – Cadet Corps, Training Cadre, circa 1939-1943.
The familiar USMS cap badge of eagle and shield with anchor was adopted by both USMC-CC training cadre and cadet officers in 1939. Sharing of the insignia by training cadre and students is curious; however, I posit this is not completely out of line with USMC-CC’s training mission. Cadet officers were in a liminal space – they were graduates of nautical schools, yet were unable to find employment – and they decided to avail themselves of additional training provided by USMC-CC instead of waiting it out on the beach. After enrollment in USMC-CC, they went to a processing station and shipped out. Between ships and while on the shore, they took on training roles at any of the USMC-CC training establishments; in this capacity, they were junior instructors. They donned USMC-CC training cadre cap badges while in their instructor role; on ship, if so prescribed, they wore uniforms and insignia of the steamship company. USMC-CC cadets proper wore a cap badge derived from the cadre cap badge – the anchor from the shield. I have not seen evidence that USMC-CC cadet officers continued to wear the cap badge after separation from the program at their new places of employment.
Detail of Cadet Officer cap badge figure in Uniform Regulations of United States Maritime Commission Cadet Corps (1942). Col.: AMMM.
USMS appropriated the cap badge from USMC-CC training cadre and cadet officers in 1942/1943. There is no literature stating why. If I am to offer an educated guess, in terms of the overall design, the eagle and shield device lends itself better to mass production than the then-existing USMS cap badge. At the time, insignia houses scaled-down production of embroidered cap badges across the board and began offering stamped metal badges en masse. And, the USMC-CC cap badge is more naval and perhaps a bit more handsome. It is worth mentioning that when USMS reconfigured its insignia, it did not simply adopt all USMC-CC insignia, it came out with shoulder boards, buttons, and cuff devices with completely new designs.
U.S. Maritime Commission – U.S. Maritime Service, training cadre/officer cap badge. circa 1938-1942.
U.S. Maritime Service, officer cap badge. circa 1942-1945.
The cap badge on the left is far too busy to be rendered into a metal version like the example on the right. Do note: the anchors to the right are not fouled; as any good sailor would point out: fouled anchors are useless, but a classic naval symbol, nonetheless.
Back to the initial discussion point, in taking a look at the early U.S. Maritime Commission Cadet Corps, I came across a group photo of all training cadres present at Fort Schuyler from 1940/1941. At the time, this photograph represented a quarter of USMC-CC training cadre; the other staff would be district cadet training officers at various ports, administration staff in Washington D.C., and training cadre at the other two training stations: Algiers Navy Yard, San Francisco, California, and Bayou St. John, Louisiana. The photograph also illustrated how all training cadre wore embroidered cap badges with eagles facing right (viewer’s left); incidentally, the U.S.N.R. badges show their eagles facing left (viewer’s right). The U.S. Navy officer is wearing a cap badge in the pre-May 1941 style.
USMC-CC Atlantic Coast School at Fort Schuyler: Commander John F. Wilson, Commanding Officer & Lieutenant Commander Harry H. Crow, Naval Science Instructor.
The cap badge at the top of this post is a 1939-1940 example from the estate of an ex-U.S. Maritime Commission Cadet Corps officer cadet. Embroidered cap badges continued to be made throughout the war and even during the period when manufacturers made stamped metal badges. Thus, unlike U.S. navy cap badges, where the time period of the cap badge may be determined by which direction the eagle faces, embroidered USMS badges may be dated by style and construction and the quality of the weave. Early USMC-CC cap badges have sharp, tapering wings with a thin, oval body, and are on a tombstone-style pad; the eagle’s head points up at an angle. Embroidery is with fine thread. Like U.S. Navy embroidered cap badges, the eagle is embroidered directly to the cap band and is not on an affixed badge. Stylistically, this eagle looks as though it is poised for flight. From 1942 onward, later eagles have bowing wings, a trapezoidal body, and a beak on a horizontal axis. Embroidery for these badges is often not so fine. The pad for the later eagles (often manufactured by Gemsco) is usually half-oval. This eagle appears at rest, replete with a hooked beak. Joe Tonelli has an excellent representation of most varieties of USMS embroidered cap badges, here.
U.S. Maritime Commission Cadet Corps, cadet officer circa 1939-1942
U.S. Maritime Service, officer/cadet officer cap badge. circa 1942-1945.
Note: the pad for the badge on the right started to be used in 1943/1944; cap badges with the design on the right, but the pad on the left are from 1942-1943.
This chunk of text was originally posted to Facebook and is swirling around the net.
A uniform says a lot. When Kings Point was in the process of construction, the U.S. Coast Guard (who was overseeing mariner training) was of the mind that the Academy and all the Maritime Service training stations were “for the duration.” When the role of training cadets was handed over to the War Shipping Administration/Maritime Service, the consensus under the new administration became the Academy was to be permanent. In 1943 there was a Dedication and re-styling of uniforms at Kings Point. Before 1943, cadet-midshipmen wore uniforms like those current in the industry – reefers and working khakis (and whites like banana boat officers). In July-September 1943, cadets began wearing dress uniforms just like the midshipmen at the U.S. Naval Academy at Annapolis and U.S. Coast Guard Academy in New London. Of particular importance is the fact the Merchant Marine Academy uniformed its cadets like those at Annapolis – the administration was very pointedly stating these cadets were at par with those of the other service academies.
Cadet-midshipmen with all possible ribbons on his chest (in order of precedence).
Below is a super neat booklet that is at the American Merchant Marine Museum – it shows cadet-midshipman in a dress uniform and all the medals and ribbons available to merchant mariners in early to mid-1944 (note: both the Meritorious Service medal and Gallant Ship ribbon were not yet created, they were instituted in August 1944).
The booklet also shows awards potentially awardable to Kings Pointers – showing these students served in war zones and could be (and were) decorated for bravery and service. During World War II there were two styles of ribbons: the thin U.S. Army sort and the taller U.S. Navy sorts. The ribbons depicted are in U.S. Navy format – showing the awardees are members of a sea service.
This post originated as a note for engravers interested in the faithful representation of United States Merchant Mariners of the Second World War – and the later years, in particular, when there was a surge in individuals joining the fleet.
1. Note on officer caps and cap badges
Liberty ship masters (captains) and licensed officers – more often than not – wore the insignia of the United States Maritime Service (USMS). The USMS was a voluntary organization that prescribed uniforms and caps of the same cut and design as those of the U.S. Navy (and U.S. Coast Guard), except they had different insignia. The insignia of the USMS underwent a change in mid-1943 – I would suggest consulting photographs post-1943 for insignia as this period’s is the most recognized and remains the insignia of the USMS today.
1.1 1941 – mid-1943
This note concerns Liberty ship officer headwear, in specific: the representation of caps and accouterments.
The central individual is Captain Hugh Mulzac at the delivery of the SS Booker T. Washington. The cap he wears is of the 1941 through mid-1943 vintage; the device on the cap is generally unknown today. Although not visible, the visor is black patent leather without ornamentation.
1.2 Mid-1943 – postwar
When the United States Maritime Service changed its uniform regulations in 1943, it visually aligned itself with the U.S. Navy. An innovation in 1943 was senior ranking USMS members could wear caps with “scrambled eggs” on the visor; these were embroidered oak leaf and acorn clusters. Officers in the U.S. Navy with the rank of Commander and higher – e.g., those who commanded a larger warship – wore caps with these sorts of visors. Merchant Mariners who also commanded a merchant ship wore visors with the same. All other officers wore visors without ornamentation.
Using the diagram above: (1) Chin straps were of importance. When a chin strap is shown “smooth” in an illustration, it is indicative of a black patent leather strap. Officers aboard Liberty ships wore chin straps made of gold lace with a leather backing; the lace pattern is similar to the braid worn on their service coat cuffs. You will notice two parallel ridges or bands on the strap; period illustrators went through great pains to correctly illustrate the chin strap. The (circled) chin strap slides were made of the same lace and were about the same width as the strap itself. Often, the slides’ leading-edge aligned with the outside edge of the eyebrow. Chin straps came in one length; the shorter the strap, the greater the cap’s circumference.
There was a black mohair band that ran around the bottom of the cap. The pad on which the cap badge was affixed was sewn behind the cap band – it is also known as the cap badge’s backing. Embroidered cap badges were sewn directly on the cap band and pad construction; the stamped metal badge was affixed in the center of the construction by bolts. (2) You may notice stitches to either side of the cap badge – these were to strengthen the pad. (3) The pad also had parallel lines with an arching top. As the pool of manufacturers of Maritime Service expanded, there was a variation in pad configuration; some made in 1944-1945 had a half-oval shape to them – see the examples below. Pads never had a U.S. Navy configuration.
1.4 Cap badges
There were two types of Maritime Service Eagles worn on the cap: embroidered and stamped metal. Stamped metal badges were initially supposed to be facsimiles of the embroidered. As the war wore on, masters were the only ones who wore embroidered devices, making them something of a prestige item. Below find examples of each:
Embroidered cap badge worn by a master; visor has “scrambled eggs.”
Above are two of the most common variations of the stamped metal badge – note the laurels do not extend beyond the wings’ tips. The wreath has six leaves on each side. The badge to the right is from 1945 – note the quality control on the pad is lacking; however, the wreath is closer to the embroidered cap badge’s design. The loop at the bottom of the badge is a stylized continuation of the cable (rope) fouling (wrapping around) the anchor. Note the shape of the pad – the left is a Vanguard-manufactured device, it is on a pad with horizontal edges; the right is a Gemsco-manufactured device, it is on an oval-shaped pad.
2. Note on unlicensed personnel hats
A merchant ship comprised various groups, each with different modes of dress depending upon their trade and position aboard the ship.
Unionism, coupled with the American Merchant Mariner’s fierce independence, contributed to a culture that eschewed the wear of a uniform among the unlicensed crew. The United States Maritime Service was responsible for the training of unlicensed Merchant Mariners – many of who make up today’s veterans. The USMS tried to regiment their trainees and, as such, dressed them in uniforms. All except the more practical uniform items made it into a mariner’s seabag when they left the training station. Those items that were quickly discarded were the white or dark blue U.S. Navy-style enlisted man’s cap (depending upon the season when the trainee enrolled). The blue hats appeared in 1943 because the U.S. Navy did not like Merchant Mariners looking too much like U.S. Navy sailors. However, some Merchant Mariners kept their hats and wore them when not on ship. In terms of appropriateness, depicting a Merchant Mariner in this hat style is not advised.
Here is an example of a hat in question:
3. Note on officer uniforms
Officers aboard ships had two types of dress: a six-button blue coat (also called a reefer) and white shirt with a tie and a three-button khaki coat and a khaki shirt with a black tie. The khaki uniform was predominantly a working uniform – the blue coat was often reserved for onshore use. The khaki shirt had devices on each collar tip – these were most commonly rank devices, which were the same as the U.S. Navy and a USMS officer wreath device. Some officers wore them; others did not. The khaki coat also had shoulder boards – the same type a U.S. Navy officer wore, only with different devices (USMS or anchors) above the stripes.
To represent an officer at work, the best way to indicate they were in a khaki coat is to put rank devices on their collar tips. The USMS officer wreath device was on the wearer’s left, while the rank device was to the left.
In the middle of January 1991 – on Wednesday the 16th, to be exact – my family flicked on the Zenith, and we sat and watched the evening news in silence. Dan Rather spoke in a droning monotone and then the screen went dark. We saw a collage of hulking forms outlined in an eerie green. At first, I could not make out what I was seeing, and then it dawned on me what was happening – in a moment, there was an exploding building, and then another. We were watching American jets launch missiles in a precision bombing raid over Baghdad. My stomach sank as I watched the attack, but the stage was set for months: Iraq invaded Kuwait the summer before, and its people called for liberation. Diplomacy and regional pressure did not dissuade Iraq’s leader Saddam Hussein (dubbed “So Damned Insane” by late-night comedians) to relinquish what he claimed was a lost province. The United Nations gave him an ultimatum to leave by January 15. He did not budge. We knew the war would come, and it came fully televised. Exactly a week later, my stepfather’s ship left for war. And thus began the United States’ actions against Iraq.
I grew up in a Navy family. For almost as long as I can remember, grey funnels, oily reprocessed air, and the clanging of ship’s bells people my memories. Unlike other Navy kids, I visited my stepfather’s place of work often. Weekends meant I got to hang around his R division shop; and as he advanced from chief to mustang, his wardroom. I paid close attention to fleet minutiae, shipboard politics, and even read all the manuals strewn about from an early age. By the time I was in First Grade, I knew our allies’ names and understood the Soviet Union as the greatest of evils (the Germans and Japanese confused me – we were enemies in the Big One, but we’re now friends). I also vividly remember the Shah of Iran’s overthrow and the hostage crisis; I cheered when the American embassy workers stepped off the plane. I learned to hate Hezbollah, Castro, and a host of foreign adversaries, including domestic turncoats like Lee Harvey Oswald (calling someone “a Lee Harvey” was the worst of insults). It was a dangerous world, and the Navy was ready at a moment’s notice to leave its role as a force of deterrence for one of war. No sailor wants war, my stepfather told me, but we must be ready.
Most of my classmates had a father or a mother part of the U.S. Navy Atlantic fleet. Any one of them was on a cruise at any point of the year – these were dress exercises of the ships in combat or to show the American flag in Europe, Africa, or the Persian Gulf. The implicit understanding that any of our parents could be deployed for war at any moment did not make the steaming of their ships to the Middle East after the attack on Iraq easy. All of us were on edge that our loved ones would die. Iraq’s army was the fourth largest globally, battle-hardened after a decade-long conflict with Iran, and versed in desert fighting. We knew about the Iraqi use of nerve agents on civilians – these same weapons would inevitably be unleashed on our forces by a rain of SCUD missiles we reckoned. Since mine was a military town, my high school held a gathering in the auditorium to calm the student body and to avail us counselors. My stepfather had gone on cruises before, so I knew my place was to stay the course: do well in school, take care of all the house, mind my mother, and take care of my siblings. Going to war was different from a jaunt to Gitmo. I did not allow myself to be scared. I put on a strong face and tried not to think of the worst, but the fear gnawed inside. More than once, I felt myself on the verge of tears and told myself to push through and “get on with it.”
I do not remember saying goodbye to my stepfather. I do remember the overpowering feeling of helplessness, and my resignation that he was going to die. I had no illusions of American might; I knew his ship would be helpless against a barrage of low flying anti-ship Silkworm missiles; these weapons honed in on radar – the eyes of a naval vessel.
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In ten days, my stepfather’s ship, the USS Guadalcanal, reached the Mediterranean. She was an amphibious assault helicopter carrier, meaning she held Marine helicopters, about 2,000 Marines, and allied support facilities. The thought when she left Norfolk was she was heading straight for the Gulf to be part of a beach strike-force. In fact, while the ship trained in Sicily to take part in Operation Desert, Saddam Hussein’s forces were in disarray, and her aircraft were not needed in the Gulf. The air assault on Baghdad I saw on January 16 was a precursor to over a month of the relentless bombing; every day, we learned of the decimation of cities, towns, and garrisons by Coalition aircraft – the euphemism for this activity was “softening the enemy.” The ground war began on February 24 and lasted 100 hours, with the Coalition Forces sweeping from Saudi Arabia into the Iraqi desert and liberating Kuwait. For the USS Guadalcanal, there was no amphibious assault. In March, she moored off Iskenderun, Turkey and took part in Operation Provide Comfort – this was a humanitarian effort to airlift food and cargo to starving Iraqis and Kurds whose settlements and infrastructure were destroyed by either the Coalition or the retreating Iraqi military. The newspapers told us desperate populations are often worse than the military when an occupying force comes in, and this was the reason for America’s munificence.
I followed the war, ceasefire, and the problems that wracked the region. I read as much as I could about current events and the history behind the strife the United States inserted itself into – it was not as simple as protecting oil. I learned of the problems in Cyprus between Greece and Turkey; the sectarian violence in Lebanon; how Britain and France dismembered the old Ottoman Empire and carved out countries with no regard to the people in them; and the Israeli occupation of Egyptian, Jordanian, and Lebanese territory and how this was anathema to peace in the region. I learned of the good work the United States was doing: in keeping the peace on Sinai as it had for a decade. I celebrated the United Nations’ work and its observer force keeping the peace and defusing the Iraqi machine. For a time, I wished to study at the American University in Cairo to learn Arabic and understand the problems and help with solutions in the Middle East. I was encouraged as I followed my stepfather’s travels in the region and as small packages drifted back to us stateside.
Just before the school year began, my stepfather’s ship returned. As a means for the sailors’ children to understand what their parents did aboard ship, we were invited for a “tiger cruise.” It is one of my fondest memories as a Navy kid. We embarked at Morehead City for a trip to Norfolk. For a couple of days, we slept and ate as sailors ate; we came to know the deprivations of military life, but we also saw the crew at work and play. I was able to see helicopters come and go, and weapons practice up close. After a ceremony in the cavernous hangar deck where the Captain gave out Surface Warfare Officer pins to junior officers, my stepfather and a few crew members hauled a drum-kit, amplifiers, and electric guitars from places unknown and rocked-out playing classic rock songs like Johnny B. Good before the entire ship – my stepfather was on lead guitar. With a few dollars earned from mowing lawns, I went to the slop chest. We kids could buy souvenir matchbooks and ribbons if we wanted. I decided to buy a newly created medal for award to service members who participated in the Gulf War and various operations around it, the Southwest Asia Service Medal, and the gedunk medal for merely being in the service at the time, National Defense Medal. Back in his stateroom, my stepfather gave me a Navy Good Conduct Medal for “holding down the fort” in his absence (the latter was loaned to his brother for a job interview, and I never saw it again).
My mother’s parents sent me some more memorabilia for Christmas – a Saddam Hussein banknote and some leaflets dropped on Iraqi soldiers before and during the Coalition’s invasion. These were given to my grandfather by a co-worker who was contracting in the region. These were the closest tangible things to the Gulf War I had, and I loved them. I kept them on my dresser in a small display case along with the medals I had gotten on the USS Guadalcanal and some Iraqi coins sent to me from my father – he incidentally worked in the region in the oil business and I followed his travels with rapt attention growing up, too. These became my prized souvenirs and bookended the Gulf War for me.
As the months went by, the peace in the region was uneasy and life in my Navy town returned to its mundane torpor. All faded and was soon forgotten as ships and cruises went on as before. I still held on to my collection, although it ended up in a cigar box as I went on the college and grad school. I have looked at the collection from time to time, but never really paid it much attention until now, thirty years later.
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This small collection has been in my possession for the greater part of thirty years – as long as the United States’ adventures in the Middle East. It has very little monetary value; I reflect on the objects since they are touchstones of another time.
National Defense Service Medal
The National Defense Service Medal (NDSM) is a service award of the United States Armed Forces established by President Dwight D. Eisenhower in 1953 for award during periods of armed conflict national emergency; it was akin to a blanket campaign medal and appeared with no guiding rationale. Prior to the first Gulf War, it was awarded to services members during the Korean War, and for enlistment during the Vietnam War. Prior to the ground offensive, the NDSM was again authorized by a memorandum, dated 20 February 1991, from Secretary of Defense Richard Cheney for active service on or after 2 August 1990 with no termination date established; although the term was later defined as to November 30, 1995. For sailors who served in Vietnam some seventeen years prior, they could place a bronze star on the medal’s ribbon. When I saw my stepfather’s ribbon rack, the first thing I noticed was the addition of a bronze star. It is called a gedunk medal: one that is less than a participation trophy and only serves to provides a splash to the fruit salad on one’s chest.
On the medal’s obverse is the eagle, the National emblem of the United States, and the reverse has a stylized shield of the Coat of Arms of the United States; together they signify the defense of the United States. The combination of oak and palm leaves signifies strength and preparedness. The ribbon has no particular significance, although the U.S. Marines had a colorful ditty about what the colors represented when the medals were handed out in boot camp:
Red is for the blood I didn’t shed, white is for the skies I’ve never flown, blue is for the seas I’ve never sailed, and yellow is the reason why.
Southwest Asia Service Medal
Growing up, I was attuned to ribbons on everyone’s uniform -they were colorful professional résumés. My stepfathers’ were a bit jarring – he was a junior officer in his thirties, and had an enlisted Good Conduct ribbon with three bronze stars; each star represented four years past the orignial award. He was a mustang – an officer with an enlisted ethic; or more precisely – a Limited Duty Officer. On the Tiger Cruise I noticed a new ribbon I’d never seen before, one with red, white, and blue bands with sand-colored swatches surrounding a central black band. This, I soon learned, was the newly-created Southwest Asia Service Medal or SWASM for short.
In October 1990, the Deputy Director of Personnel and Administrative Services, Office of the Secretary of Defense (OSD), requested that The Institute of Heraldry provide proposed designs of a service medal for Southwest Asia. Proposed medal designs were forwarded to OSD on 30 October 1990. A proposed Executive Order to authorize the service medal was staffed to the Services, by OSD, on 11 February 1991. President Bush established the Southwest Asia Service Medal by Executive Order 12754, dated 12 March 1991.
As early as October 1990, several months before the Coalition’s offensive, the Office of the Secretary of Defense requested the Army’s The Institute of Heraldry (TIOH) design a medal. The medal selected was designed by Miss Nadine Russell, a supervisor at TIOH. Its design was reminiscent of Second World War campaign medals: vehicles of war and depictions of theaters of battle; it depicts a tank, armored personnel, carrier, helicopter, ship, and an aircraft with a desert and seascape. The reverse design symbolizes “military might and preparedness in defense of peace.” The sand colored ribbon with red, white, blue, green and black stripes represent the national colors of the United States and the coalition members.
It was awarded for three campaigns: “Defense of Saudi Arabia” or “Operation Desert Shield” for the period 2 August 1990 through 16 January 1991; “Liberation and Defense of Kuwait” or “Operation Desert Storm” for the period 17 January 1991 through 11 April 1991; and “Southwest Asian Cease-Fire” for the period 12 April 1991 through 30 November 1995. If a service member participated in two campaigns, they would receive one bronze stare; two for three. Since the USS Guadalcanal was called up for service and had its helicopter crews operate in Northern Iraq after the cease-fire, the sailors and marines received no stars.
Safe Passage Leaflet & 25 Dinar Banknote
Fatalities were prevented by the mass-surrender of many Iraqi military units. The United States dropped leaflets over the enemy stating they were planning on bombing their positions the following day along with safe-passage leaflets such as this one.
The translation reads:
If you want to save yourself comply with the following: . Remove the magazine from your weapon. . Carry the weapon upon your left shoulder, pointing the muzzle downward. . When approaching our location, do so slowly, any person ahead of the group raises this leaflet above his head. . This will affirm your desire for safety. . You will be transferred into the hands of your Arab brothers as soon as possible. Hello and Welcome.
After the invasion, the once prosperous Iraq was propelled into an economic free-fall. Saddam notes were popular bring-backs and commanded a premium for a short period after the war. PsyOps groups dropped forged notes with messages of despair and warning on the reverse.
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As the years went by, I added a couple of medals to the collection as markers of the conflict and its aftermath:
Humanitarian medal
The USS Guadalcanal was atwitter on the Tiger Cruise about the skipper applying for the medal given the ship’s part it played in Operation Provide Comfort. The DoD denied the application for the ship, instead, it went to the Marine helicopter squadrons stationed on the ship at the time; one – the Black Knights (HMM-264) – flew over 1,000 hours and delivered 90,000 pounds of relief supplies. For the sailors, however, this is the medal not awarded.
Kuwait Liberation Medal (Saudi Arabia) & Kuwait Liberation Medal (Kuwait)
Along with the gedunk medal and various service ribbons for being deployed overseas, service members found themselves often more decorated in the six weeks of Operation Desert Storm than draftees in the Vietnam War. Among their chest fruit salad, they received Kuwait Liberation Medals in 1995 or thereabouts.
United Nations Iraq/Kuwait Observer Mission (UNIKOM) Medal
After the cessation of hostilities, the UN set up a cordon sanitaire for mine removal; later, the group monitored the cease-fire. UNIKOM spanned April 1991 through 1993.
Multinational Force and Observers Beret, Beret badge, and Medal
The Multinational Force and Observers (MFO) was formed by the United States to enforce the Egypt-Israel peace treaty of 1979 at the invitation of both Egypt and Israel. They are presently stationed in the Sinai Peninsula (hence the S of the olive branch and stylized dove). They came to be despite a failed United Nations resolution to monitor the peace – the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics vetoed the motion at the behest of Syria. So the troops donned a terra-cotta red beret to distinguish themselves from the blue berets of the United Nations Peacekeeping Force. Despite the normalization of relations between Egypt and Israel over the decades, theirs has been an uneasy peace, and the MFO remains at the request of both parties. When I learned about them at the time of the Gulf War, I was impressed with how nations worked together to keep the peace in such a volatile place. I still find it interesting and fascinating legacy of the Carter administration.
As for the symbolism on the medal, the olive branches and dove relate to the Multinational Force and Observers’ peaceful mission and the hope of peace throughout the world. The S-shaped configuration refers to the Sinai Peninsula as the place of service. The ribbon colors have no significance; the colors of the orange and green bands are reversed for civilian awardees.
Every time I visit the American Merchant Marine Museum at the United States Merchant Marine Academy, there’s always a little something that captures the imagination – it is like a huge curiosity cabinet. Since I have been looking a bit closer at the history of the Merchant Marine Combat Barribbon, seeing (and holding) a Tin Fish Club member card was particularly exciting. I know it is just a piece of cardboard with print on it, but that card represents perhaps one of the most terrifying days of the owner’s life up until that point. There’s something about the black humor – the creation of a club specifically to laugh at Death after having survived a torpedoing – that encapsulates the experience. And yet, having laughed at Death, the cadet-midshipmen went on to graduate and ship.
The card belonged to a fellow by the name of Oran F. Perks. Extant public records show his career as a licensed officer starting as a 3rd Assistant Engineer on the States Marine-operated ship SS Wolverine in June 1944 and ending as a 2nd Assistant Engineer aboard the Calmar Line ship SS Hagerstown Victory in October 1945. Taking into consideration the Tin Fish Club card’s issue date, it was barely three months before his first job as a Kings Point graduate when he experienced the cold reality of war at sea.. I found he supported a Maryland Maritime Museum and was a teacher, which probably means he left the maritime industry after the war and in retirement wanted to give something back. Many old seamen do this even after having been on the beach for decades – some out of an appreciation for their alma mater or for a place that captured their imaginations. He wasn’t a warrior, but his vocation expected him to be one – for just a moment. Thus, the war was only a brief chapter in his life. Along with the card was a note to the ex-museum director for him to return the card when he was done with it. That means it was something special, a touchstone, for the original owner. And now, it is in a box along with a club alumni pin to be re-discovered. I’m glad I had the privilege to see it.
On the same day, I held the Tin Fish Club card, I learned a mural of the SS America was leaving Academy’s dining hall – Delano Hall. It is a massive mural at 190″ high by 139 ½” wide; it is the focal point of the dining hall and has remained in place for generations of midshipmen. Once removed, it will reveal a cast stone plaque titled “The Last Full Measure.” The mural covered it for almost seventy-five years; and although the Academy wants the plaque to remain in place, the Administration is unsure of its condition given it has been buried for quite some time in an often humid dining hall. Archival photographs and an old issue of Polaris show the plaque featuring a shirtless cadet-midshipman behind a machine gun hovering over two columns of names. It was installed in October 1943 behind the head table in the center of Delano Hall in what was then called the Academy’s canteen; the intention of the plaque was to honor cadet-midshipmen who died over the course of the Second World War. Their names were periodically added as war reports filtered back to Kings Point.
Col.: Private
With no end to the war in sight, but with the tide turning, the Academy’s Superintendent Captain Giles Stedman commissioned the painting of SS America mural in 1944 and had it promptly placed over the plaque in 1945. Captain Stedman, who arrived at Kings Point a month after the plaque’s installation, was concerned that students seeing the names of their friends and fellow classmates being constantly added to the list was not good for overall morale. For Captain Stedman, the painting was particularly touching as it shows the ship entering New York harbor on the morning of July 29, 1940 – just before she became the flagship for the United Lines’ fleet with Captain Stedman at the ship’s helm. Howard Barclay French, who painted mural, “wanted the viewer to enter the moment of the painting” and captured the regal approach of the ship dressed overall into the country’s busiest port, guided and not pushed by tugs. And like Captain Stedman, he knew the SS America quite well as he painted a mural on the ship in 1940; his attention to her detail was unparalleled (click image for the full photograph).
I agree with Giles Stedman – the plaque is too depressing. I think dwelling too much on the militaristic at a place like Kings Point misses the core mission of what it means to be both a merchant officer and naval officer. The Academy, in many respects, is already full of memorials to those cadet-midshipmen who have died in past conflicts – the chapel on grounds is dedicated to the 142 who perished in the Second World War with a grand honor roll atop a platform with the inscription “Tell America.” A plaque such as the “Last Full Measure” was a fine piece of propaganda for the war – it was meant to inure young men for certain death. The SS America mural is deeply symbolic of what it wished to achieve as well. The mural has the ship dressed as it was during the time of Neutrality; the underlying message of the mural is the United States wanted freedom of the seas and to trade in peace – per the Maritime Act of 1936, that is what the nation was investing in by having a place like Kings Point. If you sit and eat under that mural day in and day out, and having taken a history class on maritime history, the idea of freedom of the seas and the idea of neutrality sits with you in your subconscious. You put a bare-chested warrior in its place, well, you get an entirely different result. Today’s military’s place is to keep the peace – the last thing most career military officers want to be involved in is a shooting war.
Nevertheless, the work order for moving the mural stands in the public record:
The purpose for moving the mural is to reveal the relief sculpture and plaque to inspire the U.S. Merchant Marine Academy (USMMA) midshipmen with the deeds of their forebears.
Apparently, the rendering of a ship in peacetime is not inspiring. The same ship served in the Second World War with great heroism as the USS Westpoint. She rescued two-thousand British refugees from Singapore before the fortress fell. The war was but a chapter of her career and one that did not define her worth. The same is true for an education at Kings Point – its motto is “In Peace and War.” Lest we forget, In Peace comes first.
I’m going to guess The Tin Fish Club would be divided on the subject of the mural or plaque. I am going to guess they would want the SS America.
U.S. Army Transportation Corps, Water Division hat badge
Three piece construction.
Stamped gold metal, red enamel on shield.
No hallmark.
Circa Second World War era.
In the post immediately preceding this one, I detailed several variations of the U.S. Army Transportation Corps, Water Division (USATC-WD) hat badge. Here, I present two additional examples of the hat badge, a fake, collar brass, shoulder boards and a cuff device.
It may be worth noting that much of the collar insignia worn and organization aboard today’s Military Sealift Command ships may be traced to the hazy and hurried period which saw the birth of USATC-WD. In the late 1940s (which reached its culmination in 1954), the USATC-WD was collapsed into its Navy analog and became the Military Sea Transportation Service; and a decade and a half later was renamed the Military Sealift Command. Most of the varied nautical customs and courtesies followed by USATC-WD personnel – they being old-salts or sea dogs at the tail end long of windjammer sailor traditions – as observed by troops and war brides ferried from overseas stateside, have fallen by the wayside. Today’s MSC technocrats, contract crews, and unionmen have a rich past to consider, if they so choose.
Hat Badges
USATC-WD, Hat badge, obverse.
Shield with red enamel on alternating stripes variation.
USATC-WD, Hat badge, obverse detail.
USATC-WD, Hat badge, reverse.
USATC-WD, Hat badge, reverse detail.
USATC-WD, Hat badge, obverse.
Plain shield with no enamel variation.
USATC-WD, Hat badge, obverse detail.
USATC-WD, Hat badge, reverse.
USATC-WD, Hat badge, obverse.
Plain shield with no enamel variation.
This specific hat badge is on display at the U.S. Merchant Marine Academy museum. It is in a shadowbox with an array of other hat badges worn by U.S. Merchant Marine Academy graduates. Among the other devices shown are U.S. Maritime Service commissioned and warrant officer, U.S. Army Corps of Engineers Floating Plant personnel, and Grace Lines. This badge appears to be a Pasquale badge, bringing to mind that these devices were crafted with expedience at the end of the Second World War. I suspect more care in regard to their detail came about in post-war years.
USATC-WD, Fake Hat badge, obverse.
This is a fake hat badge. During the Second World War, it appears that only Meyer and Gemsco eagles were used, with Vanguard-designed eagles being kept out of the fray. Perhaps maybe a Korean War-era Vanguard eagle such as this may have been defaced to create a TC-WD device; at least one is known to exist in the collection of Dave Collar. One means to determine a fake is to remove the TC device (if affixed with prongs) and look for an IOH (Institute of Heraldry) mark on the reverse. An easier determiner would be to look for the IOH number. For example, V-12 was used by Vanguard Industries beginning in 1965, with V-12-N after 1974 to denote a “Navy Approved” device. The TC-WD was long dissolved by this time.
Collar Brass
USATC-WD, Junior 3rd Officer collar brass
Despite the fact that the USATC-WD was a military organization, it was comprised of civilians, and as such they held traditional marine positions and titles. As follows is relative Army Rank and Marine title by department:
Deck
Colonel … Master
Lt. Col … Chief Officer
Major … 1st Officer
Captain … 2nd Officer
1st Lt … 3rd Officer
2nd Lt … Jr 3rd Officer
USATC-WD, Junior Officer shoulder boards
I would tentatively say that this set of shoulder boards would belong to a 3rd Officer; even though post-war regulations do not have such a board in the rank tables. Once again, for expediency’s sake, it is highly probable that the ½-stripe board was not available (these were not commonly manufactured items), and the closest corresponding board to a USATC-WD 3rd Officer in the other marine services would have been Lieutenant (Junior Grade); hence the incongruous Lt (jg.) board.
Do note also that the boards have an applied U.S. Army Transportation Corps device as opposed to a woven device. The buttons are of late war U.S. Maritime Service vintage.
Rank stripes on cuffs and shoulder boards somewhat followed the relative rank structure found in the other sea services.
Note the applied cuff device to the board. This device was used in place of the U.S. Navy officer and staff corps devices, specifying USATC-WD officer status; many of the marine services adopted some variation of U.S. Navy officer and enlisted uniforms, merely substituting buttons or devices for USN ones. Interestingly, the USATC-WD did not have its own specific button made; instead, USN and “Merchant Marine” buttons were used.
U.S. Army Transportation Corps, Water Division hat badge
Three piece construction.
Stamped brass with gold wash and applied red paint on shield.
Gemsco (NY) hallmark.
Circa Second World War era.
At the mid-point of the Second World War, and as the U.S. military establishment turned greater attention and allocated more resources toward the task of fighting the Japanese Empire, the U.S. Army streamlined its marine operations. The three disparate services which comprised the Army’s water-borne forces came under the jurisdiction of the Transportation Corps. No longer was there an Army Transport (ocean going), Inter Island (Phillipine Island transports) nor Harbor Boat (intercoastal) Service; rather the all-inclusive Water Division. The insignia and uniforms of the previous services were cast aside in 1944, and division took a distinctly Navy look.
This hat badge is one of two designs worn by licensed ship’s officers.
References
Dave Collar. “Insignia of the Army Transportation Service in World War II.” ASMIC: The Trading Post October-December 1994: 29-43.
William K. Emerson. “Section XIII. The Army’s Navy: Chapter Thirty-Six. Army Transport Service and Harbor Boat Service.” Encyclopedia of United States Army Insignia and Uniforms. Norman, Oklahoma: University of Oklahoma Press, 1996. 331-352.
Steve Soto and Cynthia Soto. “A collector’s guide to the History, Uniforms and Memorabilia of the U.S. Merchant Marine and Army Transport Service during World War II.” Privately Printed, 1996 (revised 2008).
USATC-WD, Hat badge, obverse.
Published regulations from August 1945 call for a red shield; however, for expediency’s sake, many examples of this hat badge lack the red shield. There are several variations on the theme:
Shield with no color.
Shield with red paint.
Shield with red enamel over all (obscuring the stars and stripes underneath).
Shield with red enamel on alternating stripes.
The reason behind calling for a red shield can only be guessed at.
USATC-WD, Hat badge, obverse, detail.
Changes to Army Transport and Harbor Boat Service uniforms and insignia was an evolving process, reflecting not only organizational but logistics processes within the services, but also the U.S. Army.
For close to a half-century the ATS maintained its own culture, traditions and fashion, closely mirroring that of the Merchant Marine and distinct from that of the U.S. Army. As was common, young graduates of the various maritime schools and old salts alike would sign on with the ATS for a period of time, return to industry, and then go back to government service. Service aboard ATS ships was akin to work on commercial ships manned by Merchant Mariners. As a result, they both groups spoke the same jargon, shared the same age-old rituals and wore fairly similar uniforms of the trade.
After the end of the First World War, nautical garb in the United States followed the smart trends set in Europe, and those of Great Britain in particular – albeit with an American interpretation. Gone were the old chokers and pillbox hats; in their place were rolled collar coats, Windsor-knot ties and combination hats. In the staterooms of the larger ships, licensed officers wore sleeve lace; on deck and in the wheelhouse, their hats had handsome and beautifully embroidered hat badges in silk floss and bullion thread. As shoulder boards with branch colors became the rage in Europe, they too were adopted by the Merchant Marine, and by extension the ATS. Thus, uniforms aboard ship were familiar to others in the same trade the world over.
As the Second World War wore on, the United States garment industry was taxed to the limits of production. To increase production, many uniforms were standardized and organizations within the Armed and Government Services tended to take on similar (if not the same) insignia. The ATS was not immune to these changes. Within the Army’s water-borne services, the once distinct look to ATS uniforms changed as fabrics disappeared and the influx of mariners increased. Its ranks were augmented by the best and brightest graduates from U.S. Maritime Service schools, who brought their training uniforms along with them; ever thrifty and in an effort to build division-wide esprit de corps and professional appearance (read: military), Army regulations adapted the contemporary stock of uniforms and insignia. For licensed officers, the striking ATS hat badge was replaced with the Navy-style device as seen above; regulations called for red shield with a Transportation Corps device atop it. Shoulder boards were replaced with U.S. Navy-style boards with TC devices as opposed to a star. And, the service – now division – retained the distinct U.S. Army tradition of having insignia on coat lapels. The mariners were officially permitted to wear khaki uniforms – like their counterparts in the Maritime Service and U.S. Navy – bringing about a small constellation of insignia and devices.
The illustrated hat badge was worn primarily by ship’s officers (licensed mates and engineers) serving at the Army schools in Louisiana and Florida, and on ships plying the Pacific. It was worn for a couple of years, and was quite unpopular as insignia go.
Many mariners held-out changing their uniforms and adopting the new insignia; but, with the transfer of the division to the newly-formed and Navy-controlled Military Sea Transportation Service, it was follow regulations or leave.
In the future I will post more images of USATC-WD insignia and its successor service, the MSTS; it provides an interesting windows on the convergence of nautical insignia trends at the close of the Second World War and into the Cold War.
October-December 1994: 29-43.
Norman, Oklahoma: University of Oklahoma Press, 1996. 331-352.
