There is an old military saying, "Any ship can be a minesweeper...once." I had never heard that phrase before connecting with the family of Charles Oliver Murphy, Pharmacist Mate 1c on the YMS-346. It's a phrase that truly underscores the dangers that minesweepers faced ensuring the waters were safe for all vessels in wartime. This post will focus on Charles Oliver Murphy, and include photographs and stories provided by his family.
Charles Oliver Murphy was Pharmacist Mate, First Class on the YMS-346. He was the only medical officer for the crew of thirty and was responsible for overseeing the requisitioning and fitting of all the medical supplies for the boat. The crew referred to him as "Doc". His service in the Navy began when he enlisted shortly after leaving high school in 1936. He was discharged from the Navy in September, 1941. Barely 8 weeks later Pearl Harbor was attacked. When it became apparent that the US was headed for a global conflict, Charles Oliver Murphy enlisted in the Navy for a second time. That service began on January 1, 1942. In early 1943 he was assigned to join the crew of the YMS-346 and was subsequently discharged again from the Navy in 1945 as a Chief Petty Officer.
This photograph, taken by Jack Whiteman on the YMS-346, is of Doc Murphy with two crewmates, Warrington Stark, Quartermaster 2c and Neal Smith, Signalman 1c.
I was fortunate to be able to connect with Doc Murphy's family. The photographs and stories in this post were provided by Doc's son, Charles M. Murphy. Charles M. Murphy was born in February 1944, prior to D-Day, while his Dad was on the YMS-346. He is mentioned under Blessed Events in the First Anniversary paper written by Yeoman Meyer H. Leavitt in 1945. This is the excerpt from the First Anniversary paper.
On February 22, 1944 word was received that our Pharmacist Mate, Charles Murphy, was presented with a seven pound baby boy. One can never tell, Murph, he may be another George Washington. The lad was named Charles Mark, a fine name. All the best to you Murph, and remember the drunk you promised us all back in God's Country. Incidentally, Charles, too bad you lost five dollars, stating that it would be a girl.
In 1990, Doc's son, Charles M., made video recordings of his Dad when he interviewed him about his life and later turned these into written accounts. He has graciously given me permission to include some of his writing pertaining to when his Dad served with the crew of the YMS-346. One story in particular sheds some light on another entry in the Anniversary paper. A list of the crew for August 20, 1943 includes Lt. John King as the Executive Officer. In the body of the paper Yeoman Leavitt states: On December 13, 1943, our Executive Officer, Mr. King, was transferred to the hospital and was ultimately lost to the ship. No words can adequately express how sorry we all were and we felt in losing Mr. King, for Mr. King was in the full sense of the word, a gentleman and a Naval Officer. Ensign Louis G. Dougherty was sent to replace Mr. King, with Mr. Tomson taking over the duties of Executive Officer and Mr. Dougherty handling the Gunner Department.
The following accounts were written by Charles M. Murphy regarding his Dad's YMS-346 experiences and included word for word with his permission.
"Dad concocted a plan."
Not every sailor was able to handle the pressure of a minesweeper assignment. Lt. John King was one of the two officers assigned to YMS-346. "Doc" Murphy and Lt. King had become good friends during their time together on YMS-346. John truly feared traveling to Europe and did not want to go. So, Dad concocted a plan. For security reasons, orders to leave port would come down only 1 hour before departure. Dad waited until 30 minutes before casting off and called the hospital requesting an ambulance for Lt. John King. The ambulance arrived in about 10 minutes and Dad had John collect all his belongings. He was taken to the hospital with an apparent kidney attack. The ship sailed with a new officer assigned. Dad would later reconnect with his friend John King when YMS-346 sailed back into New York at the end of WWII.
"Playing Decoy in English Ports"
Closer to the planned D-Day invasion, the YMS-346 was moved to Plymouth, England and then returned to the Falmouth shipyards on the far southern tip of England. In the shipyards, YMS-346 was retrofitted with a larger propeller. YMS-346 was to begin towing floating bridges along the English Channel. They were "playing decoy in English ports." YMS-346 was part of a group of ships "trying to give the Germans the impression that the invasion landing would be at Chalet, France. We prowled up and down the English Channel to give the Germans something to worry about." The Germans were aware something was going on. Dad said the German PT boats would harass his minesweeper, especially at night. The PT strikes did not damage YMS-346 or injure any of the crew. YMS-346 was ordered back to the shipyards once again to install the original propeller in preparation for the invasion.
"No, you work holding your breath..."
The minesweepers played a pivotal role in Normandy. Dad explained that there were two types of mines used in sea warfare, magnetic and contact. The average ship draws 9 feet or less water. The magnetic mines were anchored to the ocean floor by cables that allowed them to float 3 to 9 feet below the water surface. To further camouflage them, they were usually black or dark green in color. These types of mines were detonated when they struck steel, thus the need for the wooden minesweepers. The minesweepers would drag a sweep behind them. Dad described it as looking like a Venetian blind. It would drag behind at such an angle as to catch and set off the magnetic mines floating at the various levels. The other type of mine, contact, looked like a big balloon with spikes and would detonate when struck.
This type of mine had to be spotted visually and exploded by machine gun fire. Because of their dark color, they were tough to see in the water. The minesweepers went into Normandy on June 5, 1944, the eve of the invasion, to sweep for mines in the area near the beaches coded Omaha and Utah. They were to clear a path for the US landing crafts so the massive number of troops could hit the beaches at 6:30 AM on June 6, 1944. This means that the minesweepers were the first boats involved in the D-Day Invasion. I asked Dad if he ever got used to the sound of a mine going off and he simply stated "No, you work holding your breath..."
"The crew prayed that the anchor would not hit a mine on the way down."
They arrived in France late in the day on the 5th but could not sweep until after dark. Dad recalled a partiularly bad storm that night along the coast of France, one of the worst in years. His ship was in the middle of a minefield and the wind and waves were so strong that they could not hold position. Orders came to drop anchor. The crew prayed that the anchor would not hit a mine on the way down. Even with an anchor, the minesweeper could not hold position as it was tossed by the ferocious storm. They sat there holding their breath as they were dragged around by the sea and wind in the middle of that minefield. Miraculously, neither the ship nor the anchor hit any mines. We started sweeping about 3 AM on the morning of June 6th and found a lot of mines going in. The LST's [Landing Ship, Tank] and supply ships were behind us. The landing craft were to start with the first light of dawn.
After the invasion began on the 6th, the Germans flew in and dropped new mines each night. They also used small 2-man submarines to do the same. We were constantly sweeping 24 hours a day for the first seven days with no sleep at all. They gave Dad's crew pills to take to keep them awake. Between the pills and the adrenaline rush Dad and the crew did not feel at all sleepy.
After the beaches of Normandy were secured, some of the minesweepers were ordered to proceed south toward the deep-water port of Cherbourg, France. The Germans knew the Allies wanted this port, so they had sunk their merchant ships in the harbor. Mines had to be cleared so that the Allies could remove the sunken German vessels. This port was heavily fortified. German shore batteries high on the hills continually took shots at the minesweepers. Dad and another sailor were standing on the back deck of the minesweeper when they saw a flash of light from the shore about a half mile away. In a few seconds, a 90 mm shell came right between Dad and the other sailor, blistering both of their faces before it landed in the water behind their boat. One 90 mm shell could easily sink a minesweeper.
"Any ship can be a minesweeper...once."
This slogan represents the pride of the minesweeper sailors and describes the dangers they face when at war. During WWII, US Navy minesweepers paved the way and prepared the path for ships and troops that would assault the beaches from Normandy to the Island of the Pacific. Minesweeping, by nature is an inherently dangerous job. Minesweepers are the first vessel on the scene in preparation for the amphibious assaults and the first to transit dangerous waters and shipping lanes. During WWII over 50 minesweepers were sunk. They were subject to attack by enemy ships, airplanes and shore batteries but most went down as victims of the very quarry they pursued, mines.
I would like to thank Charles M. Murphy for allowing me to share some of his written accounts of his Dad's military service during WWII. It is an honor and a privilege to learn from another of my Dad's crew mates about their shared experiences on the YMS-346. And it is especially nice to learn that Doc Murphy and Warrington Stark remained friends after the war.
Below is a photograph of crew mate Warrington Stark that Jack took on the YMS-346.
Charles M. remembers him as "Sparky" and the photographs below are from family time spent together after the war.
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