A red-letter day

Theodore Roosevelt Reiner

Radioman third class

“At 7:30 a.m. I entered the main radio spaces and prepared to take over duties as supervisor for the first time, which made it a red-letter day for me. At 7:55, while I was preparing the day’s liberty list for the radio gang … a radio striker ran in great haste and snatched his battle-talkers telephone from the hook. I said something like ‘What’s going on?’ He replied, ‘Air raid.’”

At that moment, Reiner said, “there was an explosion, which was probably a near miss. Radiomen and officers ran in to man their battle stations.” After relinquishing the watch to a first-class radioman, he tuned in the OTC FOX frequency amid several explosions including “one extremely violent one, which sent me straight up off my stool about 2 feet, with my hand still on the tuning knob of the radio.”

That was “probably the torpedo that ripped open our hull and put us in sinking condition.”

Reiner said, “While listening to my radio, I could copy an operator on a merchant vessel describing his view of the attack and then a message from CINPAC (U.S. Commander in Chief Pacific) to Nevada, which read, ‘DO NOT ENTER CHANNEL. REPEAT. DO NOT ENTER CHANNEL.’”

Reiner continued, “This was the order that brought about our beaching at the now well-known Nevada Point. Had we entered the channel in sinking condition, we might well have caused blocking of the channel,” leaving seaworthy ships trapped there.

The radiomen then received a call from a radio officer “advising us not to open the starboard door because the ship was flooding on that side. The port door was opened to reveal 2 feet of water or so on that side.”

Later, when the men made their way topside, Reiner said, “We had to shinny up ropes to reach the main deck. Topside things were a complete shambles. Main deck had been pierced several times, and huge winches were upended, smoke rising from the holes.”

Reiner said, “I was drafted for a working party and went to the ammunition dump at Lualualei for several days.” Upon returning to the ship, the “usually austere” executive officer “greeted me warmly, erasing my name from the list of the missing.”