An artist who was at the scene depicted the explosion aboard the USS Wasp after it was hit by three torpedoes on September 15, 1942.

A Tale of Two Ships

Frank Kinney served on four ships during World War II. Two of them, both aircraft carriers, were sunk by the Japanese. Kinney survived both sinkings and served until the end of the war.

By Al Zdon

His nickname probably never was "Lucky." Frank Kinney served on four ships before and during World War II, and two of them were sunk.
Twice Kinney was on the crew of an aircraft carrier in a battle against the Japanese. Twice he found himself in the drink in the South Pacific. Twice he was rescued and was able to serve his country again.
Kinney, who has lived in Minnesota since 1964, grew up in Ayer, Massachusetts. When he was still in high school he saw a recruiting poster that proclaimed "Earn, Learn and Travel," and he traveled to Boston in March 1938 to enlist in the U.S. Navy.
Kinney's father had died when he was five, and his mother had taught school to keep the family together. After high school, Kinney worked on a farm until he was finally called up by the Navy in October of 1938. "You didn't have fun in those days, you worked."
He was excited about joining up. "I had the travel uppermost in my mind," said Kinney, who lives in Chatfield in southeastern Minnesota. "And nobody talked about war in those days. Nobody."
After bootcamp in Newport, R.I., Kinney was given orders to the heavy cruiser Wichita, and he spent a year aboard. At first, his role on the ship was "deck ape," but he tired of scrubbing the decks and shining the bright work.
He was convinced to join the engineers. "I really wanted to apprentice in the bake shop, but I could see that wasn't going to happen."
Kinney was assigned to the boiler room were he began his apprenticeship as a machinist's mate. During his first year, he worked his way up from apprentice seaman ($21 a month) to seaman second class ($36 a month) to Seaman First Class ($54 a month).
He was transferred to the USS Wasp as the new carrier was readied for her maiden voyage. Assigned to the "A" Division, he eventually was given the job of running the hydraulics for the massive aircraft elevators that ran between the hangar deck and the flight deck. His duty station was five decks below the hangar deck in the bowels of the ship.
The Wasp was tied up in Bermuda when news of Pearl Harbor came. "That was some pretty good liberty, but I'll tell you, we didn't stay in Bermuda very long."
Kinney only had nine months left on his enlistment when the war started. "They were offering me bonuses to stay in, but I wanted out. Well, all that changed."
The ship crossed the Atlantic in the early months of the war after Churchill had requested U.S. help in getting aircraft from England to the island of Malta in the Mediterranean Sea. Malta was a key base for protecting the sea lanes and supporting the action in North Africa.
The Wasp would go through the straits of Gibraltar, and when it was in flying range of Malta, the Spitfires would be launched. It was a risky business because they were not equipped with tail hooks, and there was no turning back.
"This one Spitfire, though, had engine trouble right after it was launched. The pilot requested permission to circle and land on the deck, but with no tail hook, that was going to be pretty hard. We got the ship going to full speed, about 32 knots, and he brought that airplane in. He stopped about six yards short of the bow, but by God he made it. Everybody on the ship was cheering that guy."
The airplane was quickly fixed. "They loaded him up with candy bars, and he was on his way again."
The USS Wasp made two trips delivering planes, and then headed for the Pacific. She passed through the Panama Canal in June 1942 and headed for the South Pacific. The ship was assigned to protect the landings at Guadal Canal.
On Sept. 15, 1942, a Japanese submarine, I-19, launched six torpedoes at a fleet of 23 American ships in the Solomon Islands. One hit the battleship North Carolina, a second hit the destroyer O'Brien, and three hit the Wasp.
"We were at battle stations, and I was operating the hydraulic pumps. I had the earphones on, listening for orders. It was about 3 p.m. All of a sudden, it was like an earthquake. The upward concussion was just terrific."
Kinney was tossed about like a rag doll and grabbed a steam line to prevent being thrown to the deck. The fear was instantaneous. "It felt like it was frozen inside your gut."
Seconds later, there were two more massive concussions as the other torpedoes struck the Wasp forward on the starboard side.
"The lights went out, the communications went out. All I remember are these bluish shades of light. There was steam escaping, but luckily it was the low pressure steam lines. If it was a main line, we'd all have been dead."
Despite the darkness, the men stayed at their stations. "Everybody knew their way around the engine room. You didn't need any lights to know where you were."
When the order came to leave the room, Kinney joined the others in the trip up to the hangar deck. "Somebody noticed that I didn't have my gas mask, and I was told to go back and get it. As it turned out, it nearly killed me."
Alone now, Kinney felt his way up the ladder to the next deck. When he got to the next ladder, though, he found it was crumpled from the force of the explosions. "I knew there was a ladder on the port side, though, and I made my way to it. That ladder was still intact.
"The abandon ship order had been by word of mouth because there wasn't any communications any more.
"It's funny what you remember, but when I got up on deck I'll never forget all those shoes lined up the full length of the ship. The guys had all taken their shoes off, and lined them up very carefully."
Kinney made his way down a knotted rope to the sea. "I guess the guy behind me wanted to go a little bit faster and his butt hit me right on the head. I slid down the rope and got a hell of a rope burn. It was my only wound of the day."
Kinney, wearing a life jacket, swam away from the stricken ship. "When I got a couple of hundred yards away, that was the first time I thought, "By God, I'm going to make it."
He joined a group of about 12 or 13 other sailors who were clutching what seemed to be a fishing net help up by large pieces of cork. "You couldn't get into it, but you could cling to it." 
After some time in the water, the men saw a U.S. destroyer heading for them. "We were all excited. We thought it was coming for us."  Instead, the destroyer was chasing the Japanese submarine, and it began launching depth charges into the water.
Although still quite a ways off, the concussion from the depth charges had quite an effect on the men in the water.
"We had one guy in our group who was a pilot, and he'd had more survival training than the rest of us. He told us that if the depth charges are close enough, they'll kill you. There wouldn't be a mark on your body, but they'd kill you. The only way to protect yourself was to put a finger up your rectum."
After about three or four hours in the water, another destroyer headed for the small group of sailors. The men were apprehensive, not knowing if it was coming to rescue them or to drop more depth charges.
"It's too bad Hollywood wasn't there to film that rescue. Here were 12 guys with one arm holding onto the net, and their other arm under water with their fingers up their rear ends."
The destroyer, the USS Laffey (DD 459) stopped dead in the water, and rope ladders were lowered down. The crew from the Wasp was help aboard. "The first thing they did was bring up bales of rags from down below, and we all were ordered to wipe the oil off our bodies. We were so covered from head to toe that the only thing that looked clear was right around the eyes.
"We wiped the best we could, and then they let us take a shower."
The destroyer picked up 600 crew members. "The ship was full of humanity. We all wore rags on our feet because the deck was so hot and, of course, we had no shoes."
In all, 193 men had been lost on the USS Wasp. "We all thought because of the explosions and fire that it would be more like five or six hundred."
The men were taken to the Naval base at Esperito Santos, and eventually were transported back to the United States. All were given 30 days leave, the standard Navy practice for sailors whose ship was sunk.

Kinney went home to Massachusetts, and then received orders to Bremerton, Washington. When he got there, he was ordered back to the East Coast where he became part of the pre-commissioning crew of the soon to be launched fast carrier USS Princeton.
Princeton was part of the Independence Class of carriers, built atop a cruiser's hull.
Again Kinney and his mates took the trip through the Panama Canal. "On one of those trips through the canal, I was out on liberty and I couldn't find the ship when I got back. Too many of those rum and Cokes."
For the next 17 months, the ship seemed to be constantly at sea. "We could go 300 miles a day, and we went 300 miles every day. My feet got so tired of that steel deck, they were just itching for some sand between my toes."
The ship headed for the South Pacific in June of 1943. In December, the Princeton was ordered to the shipyards at Bremerton for some refitting. The men were given ample time to enjoy their time ashore.
"The only way you could get liquor was to buy it on the black market, usually from the guys who drove the cabs. All you could get was Sunny Brook, and they charged 15 or 16 dollars a bottle. Those cabbies must have gotten rich."
Back in the Pacific, the Princeton followed the U.S forces island hopping across the Pacific. When the army landed at Leyte Island on the Philippines, the Princeton was supporting the landing with air cover.
Kinney had advanced to first class machinist's mate by this time, and his job was to run the throttle for the forward engines. "There were about 35 gauges on the wall and two throttles. I had the engineering officer standing behind me watching every move I made."
On Oct. 24, 1944, an armor piercing bomb from a Japanese aircraft hit the Princeton's flight deck, slicing through to the hangar deck, and then down into the mess deck below where it exploded. It ignited six torpedo planes on the hangar deck, and the ship was soon engulfed in flames and explosions.
"I thought the end of the world had come. For a moment you just go into shock and you can't do anything. It was the same as the last time, all the lights went out."
Kinney was amazed at the discipline aboard the ship. "One of the reasons the officers carry a pistol is to maintain good order. But I never saw a single man lose it. Everyone did what he was trained to do. It was amazing how calm everyone seemed to be."
The engineers stayed at their station for a half hour as the crew tried to save the ship.
With the order to abandon ship, again Kinney made his way topside. There were no ropes leading down to the sea, but Kinney grabbed a two inch fuel hose that was draped over the side and lowered himself into the water.
"I wasn't in the water more than 15 or 20 minutes when a destroyer came along." Ropes were hanging down the side of the destroyer, the USS Irwin (DD 794), and he grabbed at one of them. "Myself and another guy grabbed the rope at the same time. The water was going over our heads, and he was even more frantic that I was. He thought he was going to drown. So I let him have the rope, and I tried to grab another."
The destroyer was moving slowly through the water, and Kinney was finally able to grab the final rope on the stern of the rescue ship. "I was holding on to the rope but the screw (propeller) was sucking me down. It was all I could do to hold onto the rope. Meanwhile, there were about three crew members trying to haul me in. They finally pulled me up like a sack of potatoes. I laid on the deck for 15 minutes trying to catch my breath. I was just full of sea water. I was close to being on the verge of drowning, but I made it."
Meanwhile, the captain of the Princeton was still trying to save his ship. Other Navy ships, including the cruiser Birmingham, came along side with fire hoses pouring water on the Princeton's infernos.
The Birmingham was gaining ground on the fires when she was ordered to back off because of a possible Japanese attack. "The flames came back up then, and when the Birmingham came back with its hoses, the Princeton just blew up. It was one hell of an explosion."
In all, 108 men were killed on the Princeton and 229 were killed on the Birmingham. Kinney took part in the ceremony as the men were buried at sea.
Again, Kinney and the others were transported to Esperito Santos and then back to the United States. Again, he got 30 days leave. Again, he was ordered to Bremerton, Washington.

Kinney spent the remainder of the war in a relatively safe place, aboard the destroyer USS Lawrence, cruising back and forth on patrol outside San Francisco Bay. "With all that stuff going on in 1945, and all those kamikaze attacks, I was glad I was in a safe spot."
Kinney remembers clearly the last day of the war.
"I was in a warehouse in San Francisco getting a pound of sugar with a ration coupon. Just then, you couldn't believe the racket that started up. There were bells and horns and sirens. It was just bedlam.
"The lady behind the counter said, 'What do you know, son. It sounds like the war is over. How would you like another pound of sugar?'"
Kinney went to agricultural college in Washington, and eventually his work for the American Breeder's Association took him to Minnesota where he has lived for the past 37 years.
Through the years he has amassed a collection of books, magazines and photos about the Wasp and Princeton. Kinney, who has been cheerful all through the telling of his war experiences, starts to choke up as he holds a photo of his Class of 1938 at Ayer High School. "There were 23 boys in the class, and these four were killed," he said, silently pointing out the four. Finally, he is able to talk again. "Imagine that. One-sixth of my class was killed in the war."