Cement

The equatorial Pacific actually has seasons: Two. They are the rainy season and February.  That doesn’t mean February has no rain.  Since rain is measured in feet, not inches, February's downpours don’t count. 

LCT 973 built at Mare Island. Laid down 11/1943.
Launched   2/2/1944.   Commissioned 2/1944

Fate:  harbor utility craft YFU62 in 3/1966

Our ship was taking on maybe a thousand sacks of cement, and it wasn’t February.  

My crew didn’t care about the weather conditions. They folded their cap brims down so the slosh wouldn’t accumulate and suddenly gush down their necks.  And rain didn't mean a break in activity.  Squishy feet were ignored, and wet jeans would steam dry as soon as the drenching let up.  Sea Bees who were hand signaling the cargoes over the side to us wore ponchos, and merchantmen peered out from passageway cover, probably thinking maybe we on our LCT were nuts. But month after month of watching mist rise from our shoes,  our hair, and off equipment  had inured us to humidity.  We just didn’t enjoy it in our eyes, so the officers then would wear a “uniform” cap, and the men would wear their caps with the brims folded down.

   

Our open deck was less than two feet above a calm sea, and our progress through it was -- as one admiral put it -- not a matter of cutting through the waves, but of beating them out of the way.  So, even in dry, calm weather, being on the open deck of an LCT included a regular series of thumps, spraying foam over the rail walls. It didn’t register on us anymore.  Taking on hundreds of sacks of cement in a cloudburst that limited vision to one hundred yards was par.

This time Yarwick had a question.  He had been assigned to mind the fenders, a slight sea coming with this rain, and I didn’t want any fenders to be jerked loose as we almost rhythmically bumped the ship we were alongside.  Not against the ship loading us.

Yarwick kept looking up at the pallet loads of sacks coming over the side and gradually filling our deck. Then he'd look at those already there. When motor machinist mate Ellis came out of the engine room, Yarwick called over to him.

"Don," he asked. "What's the difference between cement and concrete?"

Ellis pointed up to a pallet load coming over the side.

         

"See those sacks up there?"

         

"Yeah," Yarwick  nodded.

         

"That's cement," stated Ellis. "Now see these sacks down here?"

Yarwick said, "Of course."

"This on the deck," proclaimed Ellis, "is concrete."

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