Entry 91 — Monday, March 1, 2010

Part I

… … … … … ….......... ….......... … … … … …

…. This Date In Argentia's History …

On Saturday, March 1, 1941, Vice Admiral Arthur LeRoy Bristol formally commissioned the U.S. Navy's Task Force-24 at U.S. Naval Operating Base, Argentia. At the same time, he assumed command and total control of the new entity, which was established for the purpose of escorting Allied merchant ships bound for Great Britain with cargos of fuel and other vital supplies. Task Force-24 was decommissioned on Friday, March 1, 1946. The beginning and end of Task Force-24 both occurred on this date in Argentia's American history.

Timely Commentary

It has been a total of 15 years 5 months, and 2 days since U.S. Naval Facility, Argentia was decommissioned and the Americans left Argentia. In all that time, nothing has replaced the former core of economic prosperity for the region. Indeed, the new caretakers have systematically destroyed Argentia by eradicating more than 90 percent of the assets that the U.S. Navy left behind. At least everyone now knows about innate stupidity and destructiveness of the infamous Argentia Management Authority (AMA) and PWGSC (Public Works and Government Services Canada).

Part II

Placentia Women Receive Caring Canadian Awards

Genevieve Follett and Frances Pearson of Placentia were each recently presented with a Caring Canadian Award. The awards are given to people whose voluntary contributions to the community have been deemed to be extraordinary. Genevieve Follett has volunteered many hundreds of hours to helping seniors in Placentia and has also devoted many years attending to the needs of residents at the Placentia Health Center. She is also a 23-year member of the Star of the Sea Association's Ladies Auxiliary. Frances Pearson has also dedicated a significant portion of her life to helping seniors in Placentia. She has also dedicated more than twenty years serving the needs of patients at Placentia Cottage Hospital and its replacement, the Placentia Health Center. Lieutenant Governor John Crosbie presented to two women with their awards on behalf of Michaelle Jean, Governor General of Canada.

Left to right: Frances Pearson of Placentia, Philip Arthur Saunders of St. John's, and Genevieve Follett of Placentia were each presented with a Caring Canadian Award at Government House on Friday, February 12, 2010. The non-credited photo is from The Charter website.

Argentia.org takes this opportunity to congratulate Genevieve Follett and Frances Pearson on being formally recognized for so many years of outstanding service to their community.

Part III

Dunville Native to Release First Solo CD

Denielle Hann of Dunville is preparing for the release of her first solo CD. She has opened concerts for Ronnie Milsap and Rick Springfield, hosted her shows on Coast 101.1 FM Radio in Newfoundland, and has been the lead singer with the dance pop cover band Blue Eyed Blonde at the Mile One Convention Center in St. John's.

Hann helps to run the “Open Mic for Young Performers” at the Shamrock City in St. John's. The regular show provides a public performance space for youth not yet of legal age. She is also planning to release a four-track collection on iTunes. Currently, Hann's song “What Am I Supposed To Do?” can be heard on the CD Goin' Back Home, which was produced by Quickstar Productions of Baltimore, Maryland.

Denielle Hann of Dunville, as seen during a stage performance. A Denielle Hann promotional photo.

Argentia.orghereby congratulates Denielle Hann on the success she is experiencing in the music industry.

Part IV

The Barrel From The States

By

Marina Gambin

As part of a Social Studies assignment, recently I was discussing with my granddaughter some interesting details about growing up in Branch during the 1950s. She inquired about where I shopped for clothes when I was young. First, I offered her a little commentary informing her that I certainly never possessed as many articles of clothing as she has owned. She eyed me with disbelief when I told her that maybe once or twice a year we were allowed to order something from the Eaton's or Simpson-Sears catalogue.

Hand-me-downs and made-over garments were the order of the day. My mother owned a Singer sewing machine that was often used to remake over-sized or under-sized dresses and coats so they fit just right. Unlike today, when we give away our stuff to the goodwill centers, then we were our own goodwill recipients.

Apart from the mail order and second-hand duds, there was “The Barrel.” That source of clothing was made possible because many Newfoundland women married American men. There is probably not one community in Newfoundland that did not have a native daughter living in “The States. Those emigrated ladies hardly ever forgot their roots. Hence, “The Barrel” or, more precisely, a barrel of clothes! Several times a year, a few families received bountiful supplies of clothing that appeared as if it had never been worn. And, as American fashion has always been eons ahead of the Newfoundland mode, many garments were classy and spiffy and unheard of in local circles.

Unlucky for us, my family had no close relatives residing south of the border. We were not eligible for a free wardrobe from Boston, New York, or Miami. That does not mean we did not benefit from the vogue of Macy's, J. C. Penney's, or some department store in Dallas, Texas. When a barrel arrived, there was sure to be finery for sale. For a few dollars, young ladies could purchase attire that was fit for a queen. I distinctly remember one summer, when I was about twelve years old, I strutted about in a half-dozen or more outfits made up of bright colored slacks, blue jeans, and pedal pushers with T-shirts, sweaters, and blouses to match. If memory serves me right, I bought each article for 25 or 50 cents. With penny loafers or saddle oxfords to complete the ensemble, I would saunter down to The Gut as proud as a peacock.

As I recall, sometimes more than clothing could be acquired via The Barrel from the States. I seem to recall my mother buying a nice set of lace curtains from Mrs. Katie Power and we used to own a gorgeous tablecloth that probably once graced the table of someone much more celebrated than we were.

When I look at the expensive jeans worn by the young people of today, with brand-name tops to match, I remark to myself “For sure, that never came out of The Barrel.” Then I smile and ponder fondly on the pink pedal pushers I spoiled one Sunday under the wharf in Branch.

Part V

And now for the feature presentation on this edition of Postings!

….. ….. ….. ….. ….. ….. …..

….. ….. ….. ….. ….. ….. …..

… … … … … U.S. NAVY … … … … …

Many thousands of American servicemen were assigned to U.S. Naval Operating Base, Argentia and Fort McAndrew U.S. Army Base during World War II. While thousands of personnel were stationed in Argentia, many more tens of thousands came and went on various kinds of vessels and aircraft. Some of the surface vessels, especially the ones assigned to escorting convoys across the North Atlantic, operated out of Argentia throughout the war years. Hundreds of other Allied warships stood in at Argentia for refueling, rearming, maintenance, repairs, medical treatment for crewmembers, or brief periods of R and R (Rest and Relaxation).

While the majority of all the U.S. Navy personnel assigned to or visited Argentia were classed as “Full Time Navy,” or “Regular Navy,” as it was also known, a substantial number of servicemen were members of the United States Naval Reserves (USNR). Even one of the 36 commanding officers at Argentia between 1941 and 1994 had the designation USNR.

For this edition of Postings, we have tapped the American side of our “Profiles of the Ordinary” files to give you a presentation on a young member of the U.S. Naval Reserve who visited U.S. Naval Operating Base, Argentia multiple times during the war years. He was also there in December 1941 when the crew of the battleship USS Texas (BB-35) hosted the entire population of Ship Harbour for a special on-board Christmas party. Those brief encounters with Argentia did not pass without making an impression upon that young American seaman. They were significant enough for him to cite in his written journals, which he eventually left to his children to study, enjoy, and appreciate.

…… …… ...... ….. ….. …… …… ……

Commander William F. Ansley, USNR

Born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania on Thursday, May 16, 1914, William Francis Ansley was the son of John Henry Ansley and Marie Xavier Gartland. Better known as “Bill,” he was the fifth of nine children. His siblings, in chronological order were Ruth, Marie (better known as Bobby), Helen, Elizabeth (called Betty), John Henry (nicknamed Jack), Charles Cosslett, who died in infancy, Mary, who died in infancy, and Barbara, who also died in infancy. John and Marie Ansley were Roman Catholics and they reared their children in that faith.

After finishing high school, Bill Ansley attended the Drexel Institute of Technology in Philadelphia, where he obtained a Bachelor of Science degree in Commerce. As a matter of interest, the Drexel Institute of Technology is now known as Drexel University. On Monday, July 29, 1940, he joined the U.S. Naval Reserve. As to why he took that route, part of his autobiography that he left for his children reads:

However, at that time, the military draft act was being discussed in Congress and it looked like I would soon have a military job. I discussed the railroad job and the military proposed draft with the railroad people I had worked with, and it was their opinion that I should follow my proposed route: take a 90-day course for a commission in the U.S. Naval Reserve, then decide whether or not I would work for the railroad. I returned to them in March 1941, now an Ensign, on a 10 day leave of absence towards my destination, Norfolk, Va., assignment on the USS Arkansas, active duty.

Ensign William F. Ansley, as seen in 1941. Photo by John H. Ansley of Devon, Pennsylvania and is courtesy of Ensign Ansley's daughter, Patricia Keimig.

Bill enlisted as an Apprentice Seaman and took a one-month V-7 — a specific classification of recruiting for college-trained men — cruise on the USS New York from September 30 to October 25, 1940. He was then was discharged with instructions to attend Northwestern University in Chicago Illinois for the 90-day course, which began with him being commissioned as a Midshipman on December 16, 1940. It concluded March 14, 1941, at which time he received his commission as an Ensign. He went on to attain the rank of Commander.

Commander William F. Ansley, as seen in 1956. Photo by John H. Ansley of Devon, Pennsylvania and is courtesy of his daughter, Patricia Keimig.

Ensign Ansley was released from active duty on November 19, 1945 and entered inactive duty. He returned to active duty on July 12, 1948. He left active duty again on March 27, 1953 and returned to inactive duty. Bill's assignments were usually on battleships and remote from combat. Those assignments were always in communications — the radio shack — and thus in the bowels of whatever ship on which he was stationed. He retired from the USNR on Thursday, May 16, 1974, which was also his 60th birthday. When he re-entered the Navy in July 1948, he began a career as a comptroller and continued in that line of work from April 1953 as a civilian employee of the U.S. Air Force until he retired from that position on June 27, 1973.

Ensign William Ansley married Margaret Helen Mahoney, also of Philadelphia, on Monday, April 27, 1942. Margaret was a registered nurse who had graduated two years earlier. After furthering her education with a baccalaureate degree, she went on to become a Grade 4 teacher.

Margaret's biological parents were John Francis Purcell and Margaret Summers and she was baptized as Helen Margaret Purcell. Her mother died two days after she was born, a victim of the 1918 influenza epidemic — the Spanish flu — that hit Philadelphia extremely hard. Three days later, her three-year-old brother, John, also died. Margaret's sister — Mary Ellen, who was married to Francis A. Mahoney — then assumed responsibility for rearing Helen, and her older sister, Carmelita, and older brother, Francis. Her older sister and brother eventually returned to their father's care. On Monday, July 12, 1920, Mary Ellen and Francis Mahoney legally adopted Helen and changed her name to Margaret Helen Mahoney. Her adoptive siblings (first cousins) were Eleanor and Catherine. Margaret grew up not knowing her biological father and siblings.

William Ansley worked at several sales jobs in the immediate post-war period. When he re-entered the USNR in July 1948, he began a career as a comptroller. He continued in that line of work as a civilian employee of the U.S. Air Force from April 1953 until his retirement on Wednesday, June 27, 1973.

William and Margaret had four children, two girls and two boys. Unfortunately, there was not a consensus among them to allow all their names and a lovely family photo to be published in this presentation. We can state that the oldest of the four is now Patricia Keimig and she has been corresponding with Argentia.org for several weeks. In terms of Bill Ansley having hobbies, Mrs. Keimig wrote:

Dad always maintained that his job got in the way of his personal life, but he was not a lazy man. He always did construction and repair jobs around the house. The most significant task he undertook in retirement was the building of a new retirement home in Sea Isle City, New Jersey. Mom was the general contractor, but Dad and she designed the entire house. Dad did a huge amount of the construction, except for pouring concrete, putting on the siding, and roughing in the plumbing.

Dad was at heart a carpenter. He was always reconstructing, putting on an addition, dry-walling, building bookcases, and putting down new flooring, etc. We always told him we would bury him with a hammer in his hand … and we did! The most enduring monument to his carpentry skills are seven Christmas stables that he designed and built from a rough wood called pecky cedar. They are barn-shaped but without front and side walls, just timbers, so one can see inside. They are entirely hand-made and treasures to his four children, the family who were my parents' best friends when Dad worked for the Air Force, and whoever among my cousins inherited the one he made for his oldest sister, Ruth. The seventh, which Dad made for Mom and himself, is in my brother's possession. Dad's grandkids will inherit the five stables we have among us.

Another hobby was travel. Dad loved to travel all his life. He found the vast distances and new places he encountered during World War II exhilarating. When he was stationed at San Diego, California and at Charleston, South Carolina from 1948-1953, he and Mom took us kids on many trips to see parts of the United States. Those were carefully planned and Dad often wrote for state/provincial maps, and to local Chambers of Commerce for information. As we got older, the trips got longer: three weeks for Michigan, Ontario, Quebec, and New England; three weeks for the western U.S. on a loop from Dayton, Ohio to Yellowstone and the Grand Canyon; and a couple of weeks in Washington, D.C. as well as many trips to Philadelphia to see family, and to various places on the southern New Jersey seashore. Dad and Mom took a 25th wedding anniversary trip to Europe on one of those “if it's Tuesday, it must be Belgium ” tours. After their retirement, they took tours to Greece and the Mediterranean islands, Scandinavia, Great Britain, Ireland, the Far East, and Alaska, always having a marvelous time with an appetite for more.

With his busy life professional and home lives, Bill Ansley did not have time to participate in sports. However, he did follow Ohio 's University of Dayton basketball and the Indianapolis 500 car races.

As for his military experiences, he generally did not talk much about them. However, the name “Argentia” did come up in conversations often enough that his family considered the topic to be second only to Norfolk, Virginia, which is the primary U.S. Navy installation on the east coast of the United States. According to his daughter, Patricia, Bill Ansley did not express his memories as “best” or “worst” but his autobiographical descriptions were graphic enough to give one a sense of what he had experienced. She sent us the following excerpts from her father's written memoirs:

Excerpt One — had been written after the 1941 Christmas party aboard the USS Texas in Argentia outer harbour (the mouth of Ship Harbour):

The winter months in the North Atlantic were exceedingly rough. We found out just how rough on our return. Traveling at [a] speed of no more than 4 knots for some 20 days, we bucked that storming ocean. The bow of our great ship was rising and falling some 90 feet, and at the same time sliding sideways, heeling over to more than 45º so that it was mandatory to walk on the bulkheads (walls) as well as the deck. My radio crew were mostly sick; water was leaking into our radio shack and sloshed back and forth with the vomit of the sailors. Through it all, I would sit in a chair with me and the chair secured to a pole eating a sandwich. Any sailor seeing me only added to the contents of the liquid sloshing back & forth. In my bunk (what little time I had to sleep) I stuffed clothes, books etc. to form my mattress around me. In my radio shack and other radio stations I kept ready every hour a simple message “Texas torpedoed at Lat ____ Long ____.”

Excerpt Two — was written about how he felt leaving his wife to face bearing her first child alone:

In the end of March 1943, I came home on leave to find my Margaret in the hospital trying to induce our first baby to come, while I had 10 days' leave. The baby was stubborn and refused to budge, so Margaret came home — and we both hoped “it” would soon come. Time passed all too quickly and now it was time to say so-long. Many a time Margaret would meet me on arrival in port but we both preferred to say, so-long (never good-bye), I'll be back soon, in the privacy of home. I had told her of the tearful eyes of wives, parents, girl friends, and families at railroad stations, and at the port for the last boat to leave. We wanted none of those public scenes, though our hearts were especially sad at my departure. At 2 AM I said so long, I'll be back, and left our bedroom, and stood silently at the top of the dark stairs. I reflected on our forthcoming cruise to Europe , the long time before I would see my wonderful wife and our child yet unborn. O, for a few more days. How easy it would be to fall down those steps, break a leg, be sent to the Phila Navy hospital, and miss my ship's departure. Silently I stood, how long I know not, then carefully walked down the steps, closed silently the front door behind me, and with head held high, walked into the night to catch my train — saying to God a prayer for her, for “it” and for me. How long before I shall come home!

Excerpt Three — pertained to the war in the Pacific in which he participated from September 1943 until April 1944:

We were now operating with the largest task force ever in any ocean — here was tremendous sea power, the like of which probably will never be seen again. Twenty battleships of modern design, each armed with nine 16" guns, firing a shell weighing 2000 lbs (as tall as 6'), many antiaircraft guns. Twenty-five or more huge attack carriers, each equipped with 100 or more fighting aircraft; cruisers and destroyers. When this grand fleet sailed, it covered the ocean area to the horizon in all directions, and over the horizon would be a destroyer screen. Above very high would be many protecting aircraft.

Excerpt Four — an entry about his return from sea duty in April 1944:

We arrived in San Francisco on April 28th 1944, some 11,000 miles from the Alabama. The Red Cross met us at the dock, escorted us to the Navy Office, thence to our hotels where rooms had been reserved for us. And the first thing to do in our room (two officers) was to call our wives. I got the phone first and called Margaret; she could hardly talk, so I did the talking. It was one day after our wedding anniversary and nine months since I had talked to her. While I waited for five days for further orders, I called Margaret each evening, but now she did most of the talking, and of course our Pat was some of the subjects. My orders finally came –– to report to Newport, R.I. I flew home, having 20 days leave, and since it took 24 hours to fly home, with a dozen stops, I sent Margaret a teletype message at every stop. Even throughout the night. These telegrams were phoned to Margaret by the local telegraph office. My last plane stop in New York, thence to Phila., I took off my “dog tags” from around my neck, for I was near home. The days were glorious, and knowing that our family would be going to Newport for some months, made our times even more happy [sic]. Together, Margaret, Pat and I, rode the train to Newport, R.I. , and on May 30, 1944, I reported to the Commander, Newport Training Center. We rented an apartment, shared the joys of living together again, bought a used 1939 Chrysler, operated on gasoline rationing and food stamps. Bought shoes on other shoe stamps, pushed our baby carriage, rode out a hurricane that felled a big tree against our apartment house.…

We started our Christmas planning early — it was to be our first big Christmas — our family — rented apartment, far from relatives — but we would make it jingle! Since toys were almost non-existent in those war days, Mom and I made Pat and our future child a table and chair set, and a slide, the height of our kitchen table since Pat was always climbing up. The slide was like a giraffe, with its head toward the floor, painted yellow with brown spots and a linoleum piece for the slide. The table and chair set were cut from plywood, outlining the shape of puppy dogs. Also, I made a wooden baby-doll stroller, and a giraffe-shaped table/clothes hanger. Mom & I had a great time making them, but to brighten our Xmas morning even more she gave me a beautiful jig saw — 19" and a motor. Of course, we laughed — it would have been greatly used to cut out Pat's toys!”

When Edward Lake asked Mrs. Keimig if there was any information she would like him to know about her father which did not come out in the questionnaire she had completed for him, she replied:

Oh, yes! What isn't clear from the foregoing is that Dad was a silent romantic. This trait came out in gestures and in writing, not in words. During the war, Dad knew that “loose lips sink ships.” But it revealed nothing when Dad would wire his florist from a ship to deliver a gardenia — no card — to Mom. To her, alone, it meant, “I'm coming, I'm on my way home.” When I was born, knowing that he would not be there for the entire hospitalization, and perhaps not at my birth (and he did miss it), Dad left instructions with his florist to deliver a gardenia to Mom every day she was hospitalized (12 days), with a specially-written gift card for each one, to enclose in a specific order. My mother's sister had only to notify the florist when I was born and to which hospital to deliver the gardenias. Throughout Dad's life, he would cut huge hearts into the grass before mowing it, stamp large hearts into the snow before shoveling the walks, and paint big hearts onto walls before he repainted them. He wrote poems to Mom, to me, to my siblings — not great poetry, but precious insights into his heart.

Part of the initial e-mail we received from Patricia Keimig — after we had asked her sister, Marge, if she would agree to Edward Lake preparing a profile for publication on her father — also read:

Our parents left behind thousands of pages of letters, most of which we are still in the process of copying and transcribing, and we have several chapters of their lives drafted. We are working on matching letters to events of their lives, especially Dad's life since nearly all the surviving WWII correspondence is in his letters, not Mom's. But because Dad did not record his life on a day-to-day basis, and the letters written from ships were vague because of wartime necessity, we will have to go through various ships' logs hoping to see his name as arrivals and departures were sometimes recorded therein.

Our parents met some time in the summer of autumn of 1940, when Dad had already committed himself to the U.S. Navy and was heading for the Midshipmen's School near Chicago, where he was from December to March 1941. That was the “90-day-wonder” school and Dad was in the second of eventually 25 classes that were conducted throughout the war. During that time, he and Mom fell in love by mail. He boarded his first ship in late March 1941 and spent months on neutrality patrol, the garrisoning of Iceland in July 1941, and escorting troopships before the U.S. even formally entered the war. The Task Force escort ships sailed from Argentia and Dad was on the USS New York.

He and Mom broke up for several months, it seems because he was unwilling to commit to marriage when, as he wrote, he was embarking simultaneously on the “ship of war.” They re-established their romance some time in early 1942 and became engaged April 5, 1942 — when the war was nothing but defeat on every single front, an act of hope that still brings tears to my eyes — and were married on April 27. I was born a year later, while Dad's ship — then the USS Alabama — was on its way to serve for several months with the British Home Fleet in order to free British warships for service elsewhere.

Dad first met me in August 1943, for perhaps a week or two. Then the Alabama transited the Panama Canal and he took part in the Pacific war until April 1944, at which time he was transferred home for shore duty. It was the first time in more than three years that he had not been assigned to sea duty. My sister Marge was born at Newport, Rhode Island, in March 1945.

After the war, Dad was among the veterans who struggled to find a way to support his wife and children in a job market flooded with men in the same situation. He re-entered the U.S. Navy in 1948 and completed another five-year tour. Eventually, the family grew to four children. Dad took a civilian job with the US Air Force and we grew up near Dayton, Ohio. After Dad retired, he and Mom — native Philadelphians — moved the southern New Jersey seashore … until their need to be close to me and my husband prompted them to move to suburban Baltimore, Maryland, where we were living. Dad died at the age of 80 in 1994. He had deeply loved Mom and us kids. He was a man who understood his duty and willingly did it, and he was a happy man. Mom lived until the early part of 2000 and died at the age of 81.

Marge and I have always thought that our parents' lives — begun during World War I, growing up during the Depression, marriage during World War II, and finding prosperity in the 1950s — was emblematic of the 20th century and was full of romance. Dad was at Argentia several times between July 1941 and March 1943. We would be enormously honored if you were to include a profile of him for publication on your website, and will be happy to supply you with more than the “bare bones” I've recounted above. At heart, Dad was a Navy man all his life; he was proud of his service and we children were proud of what he was and did.

Attached are some photos of Dad … I always thought that he was so handsome! We don't have any photographs of him at Argentia, although the group photo of Navy officers could easily have been taken there. It isn't often that an offer to provide requested information is combined with a request for reciprocation that is itself a gift to the person asking for the information. That is what your request amounts to, a second gift to Dad's family! Please do send along the questionnaire and I will answer it to the best of my ability. I will also be happy to do what I can to supply further information as it comes to light.

Margaret and William Ansley, as seen in 1963. Image is an artistic composite by Edward Lake of a family photo by John H. Ansley of Devon, Pennsylvania which was made available to Argentia.org by Patricia Ansley Keimig.

William and Margaret Ansley, as seen in 1987. Photo is courtesy of their daughter, Patricia Keimig.

William Francis Ansley died on Friday, June 10, 1994, the same year that the U.S. Department of Defence closed U.S. Naval Facility, Argentia, which was the last U.S. military installation in Newfoundland and all of Canada. He was buried at Valor Hill, an area for U.S. military veterans at Loudon Park Cemetery. Valor Hill is not the National Cemetery at Loudon Park in Baltimore, Maryland, which is maintained by the U.S. government, but a separate area set aside by the cemetery's management body.

Margaret Ansley died on Saturday, January 8, 2000, on what would have been Elvis Presley's 65th birthday. She was cremated and her ashes were also interred at Valor Hill.

People and places live on as long as there is someone to remember them. William Ansley was a piece of American Argentia's history and through conversations he had with family and friends in the past, and the written memories he left for his descendents, the name Argentia lives on in various parts of the United States.

Argentia.org hereby expresses gratitude to Patricia Ansley Keimig for helping to make this presentation on a specific human aspect of Argentia's U.S. military history possible.

Carry The History And Memories Along!