Veteran's Help - Submitted War Stories

     All the men of the USS LST 66 were heroes just as all the men who served on the LST were heroes. As A matter of fact all the men who serve in the armed forces both past and present are heroes including those at home who helped to win all the wars we have encountered.
     I want to write about a special hero who was on the USS LST 66 and what occurred on November 12, 1944. His name is Robert Goldman, Pharmacists Mate Second Class.
     We were participating in the second invasion of Leyte, Philippines Islands. As we hit the beach near the city of Tacloban we began to unload our cargo and troops when all hell broke loose.
     The sky was filled with enemy planes, which started to slam directly into ships in the harbor. The ships that were hit were large transports. These were the first suicide planes of the war.
     As we completed unloading, aboard came an Army group called Jackal Communication Battalion who had landed ashore on D-Day minus 3 in order to set up communications. This was done in order to help direct the Battleships, Cruisers, Destroyers and other heavy artillery bombardment units to bomb the enemy on shore. This bombardment was to soften and destroy the enemy before our landings.
     This Jackal Communication Group was tough but they were so happy and relieved that they were on board and were ready to go back to a rear area for a well-deserved rest. One of the men had a white parrot on his shoulder. He looked like Captain Hook from Treasure Island. But they were happy. Happy that it was all over for them for a while. Most of them hung around the fantail near the three inch fifty six cannon gun tub and the 20-millimeter guns for some safety while showing us their souvenir. I spoke to them for a while as they were telling us about their exploits. Later I went forward to the focsle to take a close look at the beach and the palm trees and the up sloping topography. Over the high area forward I saw two P- 38s fighters zooming straight up as if to avoid our ship from being gunned down by us. At that very instance I saw and heard this roaring Japanese Kamikaze (suicide) plane with the meatball markings almost 15 feet directly overhead that is forever imprinted in my brain. I immediately heard and saw the crash and explosion on the rear starboard side of the ship. My job and station was to go to the wardroom to tend to the wounded. I ran to the section of the ship and there I saw Robert Goldman giving a morphine shot to Robert Hardman. HIS legs were almost severed and pinned down by the hot metal of the forty-millimeter gun tub that was twisted and curled around his legs like cut up sardine can. Harden was in agony and Robert Goldman was still aflame and smoldering. He continued helping the wounded with great resolution and seemed to have the situation well in hand. Everything was hot and carnage was all around us. I have never seen nor will I ever see how instantly men can go into action and do the correct things right now. There was a Quartermaster Second Class, whose name I cannot recall, (maybe some of the fellows may recall his name), who immediately picked up a cutting torch and so professionally started to cut the metal around Hardin in order to free him.
Poor Hardin passed away later.
     It seemed that Robert Goldman was initially on the main deck talking to the Army Lieutenant with the parrot when the plane struck. That Army lieutenant together with his parrot and several Army men died immediately.
     The plane came crashing into the 40 millimeter gun tub, killed all the men in the tub, pushed the gun into the main deck into the 20 millimeter guns below and killed more men and crashed into the water.
     Here are the words of Robert Goldman as he described in his article, “The Death Wind”.

"The Death Wind"
     “I was on fire! At first there was a warm comforting feeling and then nothing but searing pain. Instinctively I rolled on the deck to smother the flames. However, the deck had been sprayed with gas and each time I was still on fire. A shipmate finally smothered the flames with one of the padded life jackets.
     The place was the beach at Tacloban, Leyte Island, the Philippines. It was November of 1944. I was a crewman on USS LST 66, a pharmacist’s mate. We had been attacked by a Japanese Kamikaze (suicide) plane. All day long ships in the Leyte harbor were under attack by the Japanese. The attack on my ship came without warning. The Japanese plane came in from behind the mountain. We had been loading army people to take them back to Hollandia in New Guinea for a rest. I had been speaking to a Lieutenant about the white cockatoo he had on his shoulder. After the attack there were white feathers in all directions and the lieutenant was dead. The plane, when it struck, hit the boat deck and skidded to hear where we were standing. It exploded and gas and metal fragments were strewn about.
     As a pharmacist’s mate I was supposed to provide medical assistance to those aboard ship. Because of the discipline of my training, and though I had been hurt, I sought out casualties to give them help. I went up to the boat deck, and found Harden, a seaman in the 40-millimeter gun tub. The wing of the plane had sheared his legs. I gave him some morphine from the aid bag I carried, and along with others got him to a small boat for surgical treatment. Harden asked about his legs and I told him they would be all right. His response was, “as long as I can get home to Mom.” P.S. Harden didn’t make it. Seven were killed that day, and thirteen wounded. One, a motor machinist’s mate, came up from the engine room to see what was banging against the hull of the ship. He was one of the dead.
     I worked with the doctor to treat the wounded, and I was the last to be cared for. The dead skin was cut away from the burn on my back. It was cleansed with tincture of green soap and then vasoline gauze was applied to the burned areas. The doctor examined the rest of me and found shrapnel from the exploding plane in my legs. These were treated. I and the other casualties were transferred to a surgical LST in the harbor.
     We were placed in compartments below the main deck and all the rest of the day we heard guns firing away at attackers from the air and on shipping in the bay. We waited till a convoy war formed going back to Hollandia. On arriving there we were taken to the Naval Hospital. There were no medical personnel in the sick bay we were taken to. However, there were medical supplies and I treated the shrapnel injuries with powdered sulphur drugs.
     Ultimately I was returned to a navy hospital in San Francisco, treated there, and placed on a troop train made up of wounded and sent to the navy hospital in Portsmouth, Virginia. They tried to get us to the facilities nearest to home. It made it easier for family visits. Three months later I was discharged from the hospital, and sent back to limited duty in the third naval district (NY. NY). While in the hospital in Virginia I received the Purple Heart and the Bronze Star Medal with V.” ****

     Robert Goldman, because he was a corpsman like us, was the last to be treated and administered aide. He knew this, waited and did not say a word.
     That was the last time I saw Robert Goldman until 57 years later at the USS LST 66 Reunion Reno, Nevada May 2001.
Click to see reunion picture
YOUR A BETTER MAN THAN I AM ROBERT GOLDMAN. GOD BLESS YOU.

Peter M. (Casanova) Chase, PHM 2/c USCGR
244 Cresta Vista Drive
San Francisco, CA 94127
Email: PMMChase@aol.com