Empty Nest: Thanksgiving on a Pig boat

It was Thanksgiving Day, 1944. Petty Officer Dean Dixon, from Bloomfield was on duty aboard the submarine, USS Hammerhead, in the South China Sea. They were trying to evade depth charges dropped by a Japanese Destroyer after they had sunk a Japanese freighter delivering munitions. It was a deadly, stressful game of cat-and-mouse. As a machinist mate, it was Dean Dixon's job to seal off compartments, put out fires, and make emergency repairs. Each of the 77 men on board knew what fate could await them on the murky bottoms of the South China Sea, but they were also dedicated to serving their country in time of need.

It had been 18 days since Dean, or any of the other sailors aboard the Hammerhead, including the captain, had taken a shower. They would reach 42. Precious fresh water could only be used for cooking, drinking or brushing teeth. The one shower they had was used as a spud locker. The fumes of diesel fuel, charging batteries, and each other?s bodies, made for ripe, stifling conditions in the 100-degree heat. They were jokingly referred to as ?sewer-pipe sailors on pig boats.? There were no doors on the two toilets aboard the Hammerhead. But they had a bed to sleep in at night, instead of having to crawl around in the dirt somewhere, and for that they were thankful. The bonds they formed with each other would last a lifetime.

An explosion off the bow rocked the Hammerhead, but she held true. Dean Dixon's mind returned to Thanksgivings when he was a little boy in Bloomfield. It was the 1930s, and the U.S. was in the grip of the Great Depression. If you walked down main street and collected money from 20 people, you couldn't have scared up $5. Davis County had a practice of throwing live turkeys out of a second-story window of the courthouse to people gathered below. The county would throw out 12 or 15 turkeys, and any eager person who caught one could take it home for Thanksgiving dinner. Dean wanted a turkey in the worst way. But he was only eight or 9 years old, and too small to compete with the longer arms of the adults. However, after all the turkeys were thrown out, the county tossed out 50-cent pieces. The crowd outside the majestic, stately Davis County Courthouse went wild. Dean tried desperately to catch a 50-cent piece, or scramble for any that hit the ground. One 50-cent piece bounced off a couple pair of hands, and hit the ground in front of Dean. He dove for it, but a skinny farmer in bib overalls grabbed it up first. ?Sorry, Sonny,? was all the farmer said. Times were tough. People think the economy is bad now, but it's nothing compared to the Great Depression.

An alert sounded. Lookouts on the Hammerhead had spotted a lone figure aboard a tiny raft in the middle of the South China Sea. It turned out to be the sole survivor, the navigator of a 10-man crew from an American B-24. Sailors on the Hammerhead pulled the half-starved, sunburned, dehydrated lieutenant aboard. He had been in the water three days, and had drifted 300 miles. The lieutenant stared at the crew in disbelief. They were not in uniform, were dressed in skivvies, including the captain, and smelled badly. They searched for two days for any other survivors of the downed aircraft, but found none.

Dean Dixon, of Bloomfield, will be 92 in January. His wife, Dorothy, is 89. Weather permitting, Dean plays golf most days, with a group of old friends. Dean and his wife look forward to Thanksgiving with family and friends once again. Then as now, they have a lot to be thankful for.

Have a good story? Call or text Curt Swarm in Mt. Pleasant at 319-217-0526, email him at curtswarm@yahoo.com, or visit his website at www.empty-nest-words-photos-and-frames.com. Curt also reads his columns at www.lostlakeradio.com.