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EM2 STEVEN T. PAINTER 28 September 1963

I Steven Thomas Painter was originally aboard USS WATTS (DD 567). I transferred aboard USS FRANK E. EVANS for about a year, starting in summer of 1963. I wanted to make on more Westpac cruise before getting out. My hitch was up a year later in September. I thought the Navy was going to extend me due to the Vietnam War, but they let me out.

I remember the day JFK was shot, 22 November 1963. We were about a day out of Yokosuka, Japan. All the crew were stunned.

The electricians were restricted to the ship when in Hong Kong because the dress ship lights were not completed. Everyone was unhappy about that.

I just got done reading Jo Stephenson’s book, “In the Wake.” Wow, what a story!

A Survivor’s Account

Submitted by Andrew (Joe) Mulitsch MMFN

As a new Fireman (MMFN), I was ordered to report in early February 1969, to USS FRANK E. EVANS (DD 754), home ported in Long Beach, California. I had just completed Machinist Mate “A” School at Great Lakes Naval Training Center. FRANK E. EVANS was my first ship and now my new home as I was assigned a bunk in the rear berthing compartment, just forward and below the aft five inch gun. My rack consisted of a piece of canvas stitched amidst a metal pipe frame with a two inch thick, or so, mattress. Imanaged to acquire some accessories for my rack – two adjustable straps with hooks at either end that kept me in place during rough seas. I had a locker on the deck under my rack that was about thirty inches square, and not a foot deep. This was my home and where I could stow all my uniforms and personal possessions.

I was then introduced to the forward engine room (Main Control) where I worked and stood my watches. Work generally consisted of chipping, wire brushing, and painting the various pieces of machinery, mostly pumps that fed the boilers, usually the forward fire room. Our turbines turned the starboard screw to propel the ship. We also made electricity for the ship and distilled fresh water for the boilers and the crew to drink and shower. Since I was an MMFN striker, with school, I was sometimes allowed to pack a valve under close supervision by one of the petty officers. Mostly, I found myself in the bilges cleaning and painting.

FRANK E. EVANS was an old proud ship from WWII, Korea, and now she was going back to Vietnam. Shortly after I went aboard, we departed for a short 10-day shakedown cruise that introduced me to seasickness. I always was able to make the adjustment within a day or two although it has really never gone away as my subsequent exploits at sea have continued to remind me. A week or so after our little excursion up and down the California coast we left for Pearl Harbor en route to the western Pacific, (WESTPAC) – Vietnam.

I remember being in Pearl. We mustered one morning to be entertained by WWII Zero replicas diving at a mock-up of the Pearl fleet as it was on 7 December 1941. We found out later, they were filming the epic, “TORA, TORA, TORA.” After refuelling and reprovisioning, we set off to Yokosuka, Japan, then on to Subic Bay in the Philippine Islands; more fuel and food. During these excursions there was liberty. Time off to leave the ship for free time to yourself. As a healthy 19-year-old male, I found out how to drink and have a great time ashore as all sailors do.

We had anchored just off the coast one day after doing some firing, when all of a sudden, there were splashes with loud reports along the shoreline. We were immediately called to general quarters. After a few minutes, it was determined that the U. S. Army was over-shooting their target. When they finally got it all sorted out, we were back to sunning on the fantail with a leery eye to the shore.

Every day or two we put out to sea for underway replenishment. We took on fuel, food, and ammo from the supply ship. This evolution required an all hands working party. As the supplies were sent over to our ship, we formed human chains and passed a box, or a shell, or a powder casing from man to man until it reached its respective storage area. Imagine this is all taking place while two ships are tethered together doing 15 knots, or so, alongside each other, and we are all balancing ourselves on the pitching deck. Even when the waters were smooth the ship had a tendency to roll back and forth, and up and down, and it never stopped.

After our stint on the gun line, we went back to Manila and joined forces with many SEATO countries with many more ships. Australia provided the aircraft carrier for this exercise and show of force, HMAS MELBOURNE. We had met some of the Australian Sailors while on liberty in Manila. I was thankful for my tutorial on drinking and put my limited previous experience to good use. I now knew I was not going to die, it was just a hangover.

I remember being on deck as we slid effortlessly through the serene waters of the South China Sea. Beautiful! A moonlit night and everything was good. We were scheduled to be in Thailand in a few days and we were all looking forward to some great, well earned, liberty. It was about 2200. Since I had the midwatch (0000-0400), and my 19-year-old logic told me I needed some sleep, I retired.

My watch on 3 June 1969, was supposed to have been the messenger. On that morning I asked the lower level watch, MM3 Roy Peters, to trade watches so I could get the necessary experience to become qualified for that position. Everything went well. Around 0300, Peters went aft to wake the next watch and he sent me forward to wake up the chief for the next watch, 0400-0800. Chief’s berthing was all the way forward. I woke up Chief Vernon Cash and returned to the engine room and took more temperature and pressure readings on the equipment in my area on the lower level. There were six of us in Main Control with Boiler Tender Chief Senior Macayan in charge, Fireman Bob Lockwood was on throttles, Fireman Terry (Boot) Baughman was on the evaporators, Fireman Michael Peacock was the electrician on the switchboard, MM3 Roy Peters had the messenger assignment and I, MMFN Andrew (Joe) Mulitsch, was on the lower level.

The watch was nearly over. I had just completed work on my log sheet when I decided to go up to the upper level. It was some time after 0310. I grabbed the ladder with one foot on the bottom rung. All at once the ship rose up and the lights went out! Water began rushing in from everywhere. I was swept up in the darkness, under the water with whatever last breath I had taken. My mind was working with so many thoughts simultaneously. I was looking for the hole where the ladder went up and onto the upper level. I was looking for an air pocket where I could get more breath, all the while thinking of what my family would think about me being gone, my girlfriend, what happened?

I had nearly met my limit and was resigned to die. There seemed to be some strange sort of peace and a bright light, oxygen deprivation, I suppose. Woosh! I popped up through the surface of the water. I got a breath! I felt exhilarated and calm all at the same time! The surroundings were all black. The loud sounds of the engine room had given way to some sobbing and whines of pain. There was a slight hissing sound and the air was dank with the smell and taste of steam. I immediately began looking up for the hatch and an escape from what I did not know. I did know there was a battle lantern at the top of the hatch. There it was, a faint, dim brown beam of light across the hatch at the top of the ladder. Unfortunately, the ladder was gone. I knew there was a handheld lantern there as well. I yelled out, “Here it is, here is the way out!” I tried to get to that handheld lantern by climbing up and grabbing a pipe. It was a hot steam line and immediately released it from my grasp. I then found an adjacent compressed air line that provided a secure hand hold. As I got mid-thigh out of the water and was rising up towards the hatch, I felt a tug on my belt. I was pulled back into the water. I turned and grabbed my anxious shipmate and pushed him ahead of me. We both struggled. He rolled out on the deck. I recognized it was the Chief. He was disconsolate. I momentarily tried to bring him to his senses but to no avail. I turned around. There stood Michael Peacock, the electrician. He was smiling. I’ll never for get that smile! We then began helping our other shipmates up and out onto the deck. We were all accounted for and began moving about until we went out on the starboard side. As I looked aft I could see the motor whaleboat hanging in two pieces from its davits. I thought maybe a plane had crashed into us. I stepped back and then turned forward. To my total amazement the forward part of the ship was gone! I looked up to the port side and there sat MELBOURNE. I cursed her for what she had done to my ship.

I’ve lived with this over and over in my head for so many years. I am sharing it one more time. I now understand many things beyond my grasp then and out of my control now. I was 19 years old then and searching for my niche in life. I was fortunate and finally got it together later rather than sooner. How does one measure survival? Why was I spared when just a few feet away so many of my shipmates died? Everyone I ate dinner with that night perished. Two of them were young officers, Ensigns, that were learning as I was learning from another perspective.

I went to Australia for the 40 memorial. There I met many Australians who were also still deeply affected by this truly tragic event that occurred so many years and so many lives ago. I always thought the Australians were the true heroes that night. They did so much to save many lives and have carried the heavy burden of the lives of our 74 that were lost.

I cannot understand the recalcitrance of our own government to acknowledge the event for what it was: 74 lives lost during the Vietnam conflict; 74 sailors who gave the ultimate sacrifice while on the station as ordered.

In the last 42 years, the government, the defense department, the Navy, and the private foundation that administers the Wall have come up with so many reasons why the names are not there on the Wall. I believe it is time for them to finally say, “Why not!”

I attended the funeral of Mrs. Eunice Sage last September. I always thought she was the most courageous woman alive every time I saw her. She lost so much, and really longed for so little: THREE NAMES ON THAT WALL! Gary, Greg, and Kelly Sage. Need I say more?

MARVIN C. MENDENHALL 15 April 1964

CS1 EARL W. MARCHBANKS 17 April 1963

I Earl W. Marchbanks was born 13 March 1934, at Columbus, Georgia. My hair is gray and my eyes are brown. In my early years we moved to St. Louis, Missouri. After graduating from Roosevelt High School, I returned to Columbus and enlisted in the U. S. Navy in November 1952. I went to boot camp at San Diego, California.

My first duty station was USS KULA GULF (CVE 108), then USS ROBERT L WILSON (DD 847), and then USS SIERRA (AD 18). On 17 April 1963, I came aboard USS FRANK E. EVANS (DD 754) where I was assigned to “S” Division as a Commissaryman. My experiences would take a very long time to tell with all the memories I have of FRANK E. EVANS. A favorite does immediately come to mind.

Doc Wilson (corpsman) and I talked a lot on the mess deck. Some of the guys kept taking pies. One night Doc said we will find out who was doing it. So ‘ole Doc laced the pies with red coloring. Needless to say, next morning Doc was very busy with the fellows who thought they were urinating blood.

While on board FRANK E. EVANS we won the award “Best Feeding Ship In The U. S. Navy,” the only ship of this size to ever reach this accomplishment. We also won “Navy Cake Bake 1964″ for originality.

My years in FRANK E. EVANS gave me good memories. I cooked lots of meals, baked lots, and most of all had very good friends.

Along the way I met Marie. We were married in 1956 and just celebrated our 50 wedding anniversary with our 3 daughters, 1 son and 14 grandchildren. I retired from the U.S. Navy a CSC.

Earl and Marie currently reside at 5171 Seminole Road, Richland, GA 31905. You can reach them at home:229-887-9893; business: 706- 682-1021 Ext 24; or cell: 706-577-9790.

It was with heartfelt sadness that I learned today of our beloved shipmate Tom Manley’s passing this morning (Saturday, Feb 9, 2008). Tom’s son Christopher called me at noon to inform me of his fathers passing. Tom had not been ill and had not been in poor health. Mary woke up in the middle of the night and found Tom on the floor. This is all the information we have at this time. Information on the services will be forthcoming sometime early in the upcoming week.

Tom was a cornerstone of the Association. He was quite, reverent and genuine. Tom always had an attitude of perseverance. Both Tom & Mary lead the charge for Veteran’s rights and to get the names of our “Lost 74” on the Vietnam Wall. I know that each of you will want to know what you can do or where to send flowers, so Mary’s wish isn’t for flowers and donations but rather she asks that each of you contact the Department of Defense and your congressman and respectfully ask for their support of H.R 1172. The bill was Tom’s passion and he had great hopes that we would break through the barriers this year and make getting the names of our “Lost 74” on the Vietnam Wall. In his memory, please do this today!

A loved one that has finished their life on earth is not dead, their life has just began. They are still with us in spirit. That you must believe.

CS3 CARL ANTHONY MAIORINO – 21 November 1959 to 25 July 1963

I Carl Anthony Maiorino, “Cookie” was born 10 February 1941 at San Francisco, California. I have brown hair and brown eyes. I enlisted in the U. S. Navy on 25 August 1959 at San Mateo, California. I was 18 years old. I went to boot camp at USNTC San Diego where I was in Company 421, the best Company at that time. Company 421 won all the awards that were handed out such as academic, weekly competition awards, and most importantly, the Brigade Award.

After boot camp I went aboard USS FRANK E. EVANS (DD 754). It was 21 November 1959. Initially, I was assigned to 1 Division, the Deck Force. After about three months I went to “S” Division to become a cook.

In 1962, EVANS entered a contest with 1,012 other ships in the fleet to see who had the best feeding ship in the U.S. Navy. The USS FRANK E. EVANS won the Francis Ney Memorial Award, the first time that a destroyer had ever done so. In 1963, she won the award for the second consecutive year. I received three letters of commendation.

While aboard FRANK E. EVANS for four years, in 1960 she went through a FRAM conversion. We were in the yards for 18 months during which time a flight deck and helicopter hanger were installed. FRANK E. EVANS them made a Westpac cruise. During my time in FRANK E. EVANS I saw four captains, three executive officers and four changes in crew. From 1959-1963 there were only about 12 crew members that remained aboard the ship. On 25 July 1963, I transferred to the Long Beach Naval Station for discharge.

“Cookie” currently resides at 3150 Via Mazatlan, Corona, California. You can reach him at ashleyspappa@ca.rr.com or 951-736-2017.

LTJG JOHN R. LUCAS 23 April 1960-63

I John R. Lucas, “Luke” was born 5 February 1937, at Visalia, California. Currently I am bald. My eyes are hazel. I commenced Officer Candidate School at Newport, Rhode Island in October 1959. As a new ensign, I reported aboard USS FRANK E. EVANS (DD 754) and served as ASW and Gunnery Officer, attaining the rank of LTJG.

I suggest that few people knew that the USS APPLEBY really was USS FRANK E. EVANS (DD 754), which was used to develop the pilot episode of a new TV series “Ensign O’Toole.” This was in 1962 and the TV series was 1963 to 1966.

On one beautiful day in 1962, we did take cast and crew out to sea to pick up a lot of stock footage. In addition to the crew of the series, there were some actresses from the pilot program, six beautiful Asian ladies who were in the required dress of bikinis and then there was a chill at sea so as one of the duty bachelor officers I offered the beauties the use of my stateroom to keep warm. Remember that I am a sworn “officer and a gentleman.”

It was fun that day both in after officer quarters and just being at sea and watching the professional movie makers and actors.

The captain, CDR J. E. Feaster, Mike McGuire, and I were invited to the Paramount Studios to watch a day of filming and to be the technical advisers. It was a fascinating day. When we got to the stage where the series was being shot, Mike and I were escorted by one of the producers who wanted us to look over the set. It was absolutely amazing! Every little thing was exactly the same way. Mike and I went over every square inch trying to find an error and the only one was the window in my state room. It folded out rather than in. It was exactly the same in their replications of the pilot house, bridge and CIC.

The funny thing was, the wonderful, personal rapport with the young beauties that we had established when we were at sea was lost and gone forever. It seems that when you’re on a Hollywood set you pay attention only to the high staff of the studio and not a couple of dashing younger naval officers. Oh well, we did get to see a bit of Hollywood.

Now here’s a funny add to this story. When the pilot was edited, the studio was kind to send a 16mm print to the ship where the captain was able to show it to all of the crew. His name, Mike’s and mine were listed as technical advisors at the end of the credits. When we got the word that the first episode was to be aired, the captain decided that FRANK E. EVANS’ wardroom would have a “premiere party.” He had Andy, our finest chief steward, create a baked Alaska and he invited the squadron commanders and other special people.

So after a great dinner, we all sat at the ready to watch the first of Ensign O’Toole Series on television. And it was a good program and it was great to see FRANK E. EVANS tooling around in the high seas, but when it came time to watch the credits roll, the captain was shushing everyone so that the “technical advisers” names could be seen. So we were all sitting on the edge of our chairs as the names were about to appear, only to have the network break to a commercial. I think the studio was being nice to have added our names on the print that they sent us.

It was a good series, if you like Navy tales, and if you liked seeing USS FRANK E. EVANS (DD 754) at the opening of each and every episode. If only I could find a copy of that now.

“Luke” currently resides at 9 Juniper Trail, Hope, Rhode Island. You can reach him at jlucasils@aol.com or 401-827-0009.

EM3 JAMES HOOK 22 November 1964

I James William Hook “Jim” was born 25 November 1944, at Susanville, California. I had brown eyes and hair, which is now grey. I joined the navy in Chico, California, and entered at San Francisco. On 2 April 1964, I went to boot camp at NTC San Diego. After basic training I went to EM “A” School for 14 weeks and then on 22 November 1964, was assigned to USS FRANK E. EVANS (DD 754).

I made EM3 aboard FRANK E. EVANS, went on one Westpac cruise in 1965, and experienced a good case of sea sickness during a typhoon, never to get it again. Life was pretty uneventful during that time as we had only patrolled the Gulf of Tonkin and there wasn’t any sea combat. While on the cruise we received a message asking for volunteers for Vietnam duty. A radioman and I both responded.

In January 1966 I was sent orders to work with the Sea Bees in Saigon in the generator shop. After three months, I went off to the Mekong Delta to build PBR bases and provide support for the boats at Sa Dec. I was there for 15 months and got promoted to EM2. In September 1967 I went to Long Beach on board USS ENGLAND (DLG 22), until February 1968 when I was discharged.

YES, I WOULD DO IT AGAIN! (And maybe stay a little longer.) I worked as an electrician with the local power company. I studied electrical distribution, and later commercial refrigeration where I worked until 2000 when I retired to a wholesale sales and support position in a wholesale HVAC store.

Jim currently resides at 4530 Plum St., Boise, ID 83703. You can reach him at jhook@cableone.net

SKI CASEY GARCIA- 27 August 1961 to 63

I Casey Garcia was born at Brooklyn, Ohio. I served eight years in the Navy, the last two aboard USS FRANK E. EVANS (DD 754). In 1962, I made SK1.

Commander Cruiser-Destroyer Force, U.S. Pacific Fleet awarded the Supply Efficiency Plaque to FRANK E. EVANS in ‘62 and ‘63. The award is given when a ship attains OUTSTANDING as a grade during the annual Supply Inspection. The criteria to win this award are very stringent. It required teamwork and excellence on every ones part. To the best of my knowledge, this was the only time in the life of FRANK E. EVANS that such an award was given. As a Store-keeper, I was in charge of both the Commissary and Ship’s Store records. Command told me that I was largely responsible for this achievement and was deservedly recognized.

After service, I went to college in Long Beach, California where I lived until 1970 when I took a position as Sales Manager with a company in Cleveland, Ohio. I had the opportunity to travel to all 50 U.S. States and 91 countries. So I can say, I never got the urge to travel out of my system. The company manufactured engine and fuel injection parts for Detroit Diesel, Cummins, Caterpillar and EMD Diesel Engines. In 1981 we received the prestigious Presidential “E” award for excellence in Export. Only a handful achieve this goal. I retired in 2001 as Vice President, Sales.

Casey resides at 2312 Glenview Dr., Sierra Vista, AZ, 85650, with his wife Barbara. They have three children and two grandchildren who all live in California. You can reach Casey and Barbara at cgar520@juno.com or 520-378-9496.

CS3 STANLEY KENNETH EDWARDS – 7 April 1961 – August 64

I Stanley Kenneth Edwards was born 20 February 1941 at Auburn, Maine. My eyes are blue and I had blonde hair. I enlisted in the U. S. Navy at Auburn, Maine on 25 August 1960, and went to boot camp, Company 409, at Great Lakes, Illinois.

My first duty station was aboard the heavy cruiser USS ROCHESTER (CA 124). She had teak decks, 8″ gun turrets, and 6″ mounts. Boy, did I do some holystoning! ROCHESTER was decommissioned.

On 7 April 1961, I was sent to USS FRANK E. EVANS (DD 754) where I was put in 2 Division and trained in gun fire control under a nd guy named Adams. The FT rate was slow, so I went to “S” Division, for cooking. I became a commissaryman. It was excellent duty and I gained knowledge and rate during the long days at sea.

The commissary men won the Ney Memorial Award in 1963 for “Most Outstanding General Mess Afloat.” Best Feeding Ship was quite a tradition to maintain. We had great teamwork.

I have always been grateful for the help I had coming up through the ranks. I made lots of friends through the years. Upon being discharged in Long Beach, California on 18 August 1964, I was offered employment as assistant manger of a restaurant chain.

After the Navy, I graduated from Long Beach City College with an AA in Industrial Relations. I have been living in Sequim, Washington since 1978. You can reach Stan at 301 N. 7 Avenue, #54th Sequim, WA 98382.

The Pacific Fleet destroyer U.S.S. FRANK E. EVANS (DD 754) has won
the Ney Memorial Award for 1963 after being judged as having the best general mess of any ship in the U.S. Navy. A unit of CruiserDestroyer Force, Pacific Fleet, the Long Beach based ship won out over U.S.S. ORISKANY (CVA 34) and U.S.S. VULCAN (AR 5). ORISKANY is an aircraft carrier which serves in the Pacific, while VULCAN is a repair ship operating in the Atlantic.

The Ney Memorial Award is presented annually to the ship and the shore station considered most outstanding in mess management, preparation and service of food. It is sponsored by the Armed Forces Branch of the Food Services Executive Association.

The Ney Memorial Award Committee visited and evaluated U.S.S. FRANK E. EVANS on 10 June whiled the ship was in San Diego. Winning awards in a highly competitive Navy is not a new feat for destroyermen of FRANK E. EVANS. The ship won the type commander’s mess management award for conventional destroyer-class ships in 1962 and was judged outstanding in her annual supply inspection in both 1962 and 1963.

EVANS is one of more than 150 combat ready ships under the command of Rear Admiral Frank Virden that served in the eastern and central Pacific as part of the U.S. First Fleet, and in the western Pacific as units of the U.S. Seventh Fleet. Commander N. W. Sanders of Long Beach is commanding officer of U.S.S. FRANK E. EVANS (DD 754).

This Is The Winning Menu

Onion Soup, Barbecued and Fried Chicken, Cream Gravy, Mashed Potatoes, Southern Style Green Beans, O’Brien Whole Kernel Corn, Chilled Cranberry Sauce, Apple Pie with sliced American Cheese, Hot Dinner Rolls, Butter Patties, Assorted Salad Bar, Assorted Dressing, Hot Coffee, Fresh Milk, Chilled Chocolate Milk.

This is Who Made It Happen

CDR Nelson W. Sanders, Commanding Officer; LTJG Douglas C. Jacobs, Supply Officer; ENS Raymond L. Hahn, Assistant Supply Officer; CSC Delfin R. Marquez, Chief Commissaryman; BM1 Elmer F. Kelley Mess Decks, MAA. COOKS – CS2 E. W. Marchbanks, CS3 C. A. Maiorino, CS3 S. K. Edwards, SA A. E. Feulner. MESSMEN – SA J. A. Booher, FA D. J. Creed, RMSN J. A. Smith, SN W. S. Kuykendall, SN M. E. Kinney, SA F. D. Eddy, FA F. Rallo, FTGSN R. J. Wichman, FN P. E. Gebhard, SN T. C. Hewson, MMFN J. W. Hart.

OUR NAVY – OCTOBER 1963

In keeping with Navy Tradition, U.S.S. FRANK E. EVANS (DD 754) uses standard stock, six-section, tin trays. These present a problem since most meals over flow the 12″ X 18″ containers. Most FRANK E. EVANS’ sailors realize this, of course, and carefully stack their trays with crisp tossed salad topped with Thousand Island dressing, a slice or two of juicy roast beef, hot baked potatoes drenched in natural gravy and peas and carrots glistening with gently melting butter. Along with this goes a sprightly seasoned bowl of cream of tomato soup and hot rolls. This the poor fellow finishes off with milk, coffee, and rich chocolate ice cream served with a thick cut of light, white cake.

Food, important as it is, is not the only factor which determines the Ney contest winner, however. Cleanliness, serving techniques and management play key roles I the long fight for the award.

Two Supply Corps officers spent most of the final five hour inspection reviewing the ship’s commissary records. Serving techniques include the appearance of the food and the mess decks personnel, the condition of the food when it is served (is it hot?) and the promptness of each meal (does the chow go down on time?). FRANK E. EVANS came through on all points. Along with all these had to come cleanliness. In addition to serving and setting up tables, the mess-men must look out for cleanliness of the mess-decks. Three members of FRANK E. EVANS’ commissary team proudly display their work at the salad bar. From the left are SKSN Thomas R. Keller, “Jack-on-the Dust,” and cooks CS3 Carl A Maiorino, Jr, and CS3 Stanley E. Edwards. SN Earl M. Kinney, takes a sampling of the best food afloat. Kinney was the 3 Division mess man during the rd Ney Award Inspection. Elmer F. Kelley, BM1, mess-decks master at arms, oversees many hours of sweeping, swabbing, waxing, wiping and dusting on the mess-decks. Menus can offer well balance diets, commissary records might be perfect, serving techniques can shine like diamonds but ultimately the mess spaces and the ship must sparkle.

Although the Ney Award honors good food in 1016 afloat and 159
ashore messes throughout the Navy, FRANK E. EVANS’ award belongs
as much to the entire ship as it does to the commissary section.
The five man task force that boarded the ship for the final
inspection literally scattered from keel to mast. While the Supply
Officers combed the commissary records, a Supply Corp Captain and
two civilians from the Food Service Executive Association covered
spaces as far from the galley and scullery as the bridge, berthing
compartments, store rooms and main engine control.

Eleven mess-men, representing every division on the ship, and four cooks had readied the mess spaces. The remainder of the 265 man crew and her 15 officers took care of the rest of the ship. Their work included painting the entire exterior of the ship, welding and repairing those innumerable nubs and joints that always fail at the wrong time, and polishing each piece of brass and chrome on the 377-foot vessel.

The ship had some outside help. After winning the Group C Class competition in the Pacific Fleet for the 1962 Ney Award, FRANK E. EVANS was considered a prime contender for the beg award in 1963. When RADM Frank Virden, Commander Cruiser Destroyer Force Pacific, nominated FRANK E. EVANS for the semi-finals in May this year, he backed his ship all the way. He took an active interest in preparing her for the final inspection.

In the last few weeks before the Ney Award, the ship redecorated its mess-decks, repaired its World War II ovens and renovated part of its scullery room. All this was accomplished under the watchful eye and generous hand of RADM Virden. In addition, the ship’s force installed a new, transparent sneeze shield to protect the steam table. Observing this innovation one quick minded wag on the crew wanted to know if it was installed to prevent irate crew members from throwing food back at the servers.

Two days before the final inspection the Long Beach based destroyer sailed into San Diego Harbor and tied fast to a buoy. During this last 48 hours the crew concentrated its final energies on brightening the most remote corners of the ship. In the midst of this frantic drive to smooth out the finishing touches the Executive Officer called Port Services on an intra harbor radio circuit for a water barge “in order to complete preparations for the Ney Award Committee visit.” The answer came in a drab voice, “You’ll get your water, keep working.”

When the Ney Award Committee finally boarded FRANK E. EVANS on 10 June 1963, she was primed from stem to stern. With the chicken menu selected and the ship freshly painted a tire crew stood by in their best uniforms. They escorted committee members around the ship and answered their numerous questions. How do you like it aboard? What do you think of the food? Do you have enough to eat? What are the living conditions like?

When the Secretary of the Navy announced the Ney Award winner as U.S.S. FRANK E. EVANS (DD 754), the victory indeed belonged to the whole crew. It was something every man, whether by begging, borrowing, cooking, painting or polishing, had worked to attain. The announcement over the ship’s public address system brought a few scattered cheers and a host of tired, satisfied smiles.