I've been lucky to have had a few Strong family members find the web site when they became interested in the time their loved one spent at sea, or in researching how they either died or survived the sinking of Strong.  Just recently the family of George Vedder Ill (ILL) contacted me after their mother, George's sister, died.  His niece Ann W. wanted to see what information was out there and found my website, then sent this message from the contact form:

“Hi, I just came across this site. My mother was the youngest sister of George Vedder Ill, who died July 4-5 1943 on the Strong at the age of 22. Sadly my mom passed away last June and never got a chance to see all of this information. She would have been grateful.”

     I contacted Ann and am thrilled to have her on board.  She in turn shared the web site and my contact info with other members of her family, so I next heard from one of her cousins, Diane T.  Diane wrote sharing a bit of history on young George:

“Hello.  
     I am a niece of George R. Vedder Ill (ILL).  He was my mother's brother and one of the 46 who did not survive when the Strong went down in the Kula Gulf.  I have newspaper clippings from the local papers about his death (what little they really knew at the time) that I could copy and send you, along with other photos (this she did, and I now have this information).
     Also here is a brief overview of his life.  His father and mother, George Curtis and Rose Kreul Vedder, had three children - Mildred, Kathleen, and George (Junior, as they called him) - all born in Emmetsburg, Iowa.  When Rose and a fourth sibling died in childbirth, the girls went to live with their Grandmother Mary Williams Vedder and George Raymond was adopted by Vera Ill, a relative of Rose, and her husband and lived with them on a farm in Minnesota.  George Curtis Vedder subsequently remarried and had three more children with Kathryn van der Stoep Vedder.  That blended family stayed in close contact over the years, and - despite the difficulty of traveling back then - went to visit George Junior on the Ill farm when they could.  Before graduating from high school, his half-brother Frank Vedder also joined the Navy (he went back and got his diploma after the war) and served on three different ships, including two destroyers and the hospital ship Benevolence (about which I have not been able to find info).  His other half-brother Verlyn Vedder was with the Army's 1st Platoon that went into Korea in the immediate aftermath of WWII, well before the Korean War officially started.
     Do you know if those who went down with the Strong are remembered anywhere at the memorial to the Pacific war dead on Oahu?  My sister was there a few years ago, and she couldn't find him listed under either Vedder or Ill.”  

     Basically, in helping Diane and Ann I learned of the American Battle Monuments Commission and about the war cemetery and memorial site in The Punchbowl in Honolulu, Hawaii.  I've added links to these sites on the Navy Links & Research page.  Turns out George Vedder Ill is buried in this cemetery and my great-uncle Billy's name is memorialized on a wall there.  I'm sure more of you could search the site and find out if your lost loved one is also included on the memorial wall.  As for the list of men on Strong, I have a complete crew list on PDF and would be happy to share it with anyone who asks via email. 

     A photograph of George is now on the Memories of Strong page, along with those of other shipmates.  In this instance, I was not only able to provide information but learned a couple of new things myself.  So thank you family of George Vedder Ill, and here's to more discoveries to come!

-Tammi

*Photo below added 2/01/2018, taken by Natalie Schleusner Mallak at the Punchbowl on Oahu. 

In this letter excerpt, Wellings is getting angry over missed mail drops.  Not only had he had any communication from home, but his men are suffering low morale because there is nothing to look forward to for themselves.  Hearing from loved ones helped make their situation bearable.  Though they have not gotten into the thick of battle yet, there are many long and lonely days spent preparing for the battles to come:

"Well, still no mail from my sweetheart.  I guess the man in charge of the mail doesn't think anyone cares for me and my 307 men and 16 officers.  I am beginning to get mad over the mail situation now.  I sent a dispatch today and in addition wrote a letter to Al to check up and wake up the people in his area to forward out mail.  I had Jackie Fulham take the letter to Jackie Greenslade, aviator friend of mine in '26 who promised to send it to Al in one of the planes which frequently go to Al's home port. 

We did receive our supply officer, an Ensign fresh from the Harvard course for Supply Officers.  He appears to be a fine intelligent youngster – name Shirley from Seattle (Keith Shirley), Washington.  I signed a certified money list to which enabled us to be paid for the first time since we all drew $10.00 in Panama (?).  He drew his money from the tender so that from now on we will always have sufficient money to pay the officers and crews.

By the way have you seen anything of my new glasses?  I haven't been able to locate them since leaving New York.  Did I by any chance leave them at home on my last trip?  Please try my black suit case.  If you can't find them please call Montgomery Frost Co. 414 Boxlston St. and ask them to make up another pair to the same prescriptions and frames.  They have a record of my last glasses (about Oct. or Nov).  They could send them direct.  I want a stand-by – just in case I break my present ones.  You see you still have to take care of me even though I am many, many miles away.  Oh if I could only be with you and have you take real care of me and vice versa.

Two months ago tomorrow I sailed from New York.  Gosh it seems like two years ago – honestly.   However it does mean that I am two months nearer to returning home to the sweetest in all the world.  Until I do I will only exist because real life can no longer exist for me without my Darling by my side.

Goodnight Sweetheart,

Yours alone,
Harold

Soon I plan to have a couple of neat informational blogs, one about another Strong sailor whose relatives have contacted me recently, and another talking about a flag that Gus Wellings kept, and some recent discoveries as to its origin.  Until then, I welcome other suggestions and ideas for blogs.  If you would like to contribute or write a piece to be included, I'm open to that.

Tammi

I love reading the reflections of Captain Wellings as the ship made its way around the Solomons training for pushing the Japanese back west and out of the islands.  This letter has a lot to say and goes through his day from start to finish.  Enjoy!

USS Strong
17 February, 1943

Sweetheart,
Good morning my darling little  girl.  How is everything around the household this morning?  I trust that Anne
was up bright and early, closely followed by her charming mother, that Anne had  a fine breakfast and then went sailing off to school willingly and in good  humor.  Now it is about ten a.m. And of course there is nothing to do -  ????

Gosh I am still anxiously waiting  to receive my first mail from my sweetheart.  What I thought about the mail
orderly who sent our mail to another port would not be fit to print.  However I  hope they will get the information straight very soon so that my crew – and particularly the captain – will receive their first mail in almost two months.  
 
“My Day” by J.H.W.
This morning I was up as usual  long before sunrise.  As the stars began to lose their luster and as the first
indication of dawn appeared in the eastern horizon a new day was born – a day of hope and prayers that sometime in the not too distant future peace would once again reign and the captain of the finest destroyer in any Navy would be back
home with his two sweethearts.  

At this point my thoughts were  interrupted by my mess attendant who had carefully prepared a cup of delicious
coffee which appeared on a tray along with the morning news selected from the  various radio news bulletins.   I immediately retired to my sea cabin and for the next five minutes enjoyed the fresh aroma of fine coffee, the morning news
and one of the popular brands of cigarettes.  
 
I was not alone, except in my  thoughts as over three hundred keen eyed and well drilled American youths were
at their battle stations alert and ready for any eventualities which may occur  with the new born day.  
 
Exactly at the time predicted by the navigator the sun began to appear above the eastern horizon, first as the
smallest of crescents, then getting larger and larger until it was completely above the clear cut line where the sky reaches down and meets the deep blue and smooth ocean.  I only wish my readers could have seen the changing of colors in
the adjacent sky and in the sun itself as the sun changed from a deep rich red  to a beautiful shade of golden yellow.  

Sometime after sunrise the ship resumed its normal condition of watches.  The boys off watch were served a most
delicious breakfast from the neat and clean all electric kitchens.  I myself was served in the captains sea cabin a breakfast consisting of orange juice, cereal, scrambled eggs, toast and coffee.
 
During the morning the men were engaged in various drills and lectures.  The ship in reality appeared to be one
huge school with small groups everywhere receiving instruction in the numerous details of the many subjects in which a good destroyer must be proficient.  In addition an aircraft flew over the ship several times towing a cigar shape
sleeve on the end of a long tow line.  As the sleeve approached the many types of guns would start firing.  The criss-cross of the fire from the small guns and the puffs of smoke from the large guns as the shells detonated was a very
unusual sight.  Of course the many maneuvers performed were very fascinating.  Before I realized the time it was twelve o'clock and time for lunch.  I thoroughly enjoyed my lunch in the wardroom discussing many and varied conflicts with the officers.  

After lunch I was persuaded to take a fine nap for about two hours.  I must admit I felt very refreshed afterwards.  As I must go on deck to witness some more maneuvers I will continue this story tomorrow.

 Sweetheart remember I love you always.  I have no idea how regularly my mail arrives.  But you know by now no news is good news.

All my love is yours.
Your very own,
 Harold

More reflections of the Captain, and other things.  I welcome stories of your family members to post here.  This could be a banner year.  I'm doing my best to make it so.

Tammi

On February 12th, 1919, William "Billy" Clay Hedrick, Jr. was born in Wyoming, Bath County, Kentucky to William Sr. and Emma Manley Hedrick.  He was the 12th of 14 children and the youngest boy surrounded by a gaggle of doting sisters.  If he had survived, he would be 94.  My hero great-uncle shares a birthday with one of our greatest presidents, Abraham Lincoln.  I like to think that had he lived, Billy would have also achieved many great things.   Happy Birthday, Billy.

Captain Wellings also sent an update home to Dolly at this time, and just to keep the thread going on what was happening with the Strong crew in the south Pacific at the time, here's an excerpt from his letter home dated February 11th:

"Sweetheart,
This mornings’ press carried the news that the Japs have evacuated all their troops from Guadalcanal.  This is good news for us as it should bring to an end the general fighting – both land and sea – in this area.  It also confirms what we thought before I left, namely that we were getting firmly entrenched on the island and that it was only a question of time before we would have the entire island.

Since my arrival in the Pacific I have heard some marvelous stories about the land and sea fighting in the Solomons.  Some of the stories about the Marines are simply priceless.  I will remember the best of them for one of our sessions when I return.

Well Sweetheart your little boy feels fine.  I am continuing my policy of having Fred run the ship while I set the general directives and rest whenever possible ready for the big decisions if they have to be made in a hurry.  As a result everything is running very smoothly.  My men are improving by leaps and bounds."

Unfortunately it did not mean the end of Japanese actions in the area, but his optimism was always apparent.   He was always a man of hope and confidence, and that was beneficial for his own peace of mind and that of his men. 

This is also Fat Tuesday, so I hope all of you had a great day on Mardi Gras!

Tammi

Seventy years ago today, Strong landed at Guadalcanal.  This was also the day the Japanese finally pulled back and retreated to the westernmost islands.  Of course Captain Wellings wrote home to his wife to update her on their progress in port.  Here are a couple of snippets from the letter.  Unfortunately I believe the censors (of which Wellings was one) must have cut something out, as a portion of the page with some information was snipped out.  So here's the gist of his news about the happenings on Strong as they prepare to monitor the area around Guadalcanal:

"Sorry not to have written the past two or three days.  We have been quite busy running here and there doing odd jobs.  Guess they must reserve these odds and ends for the newcomers?  No – there was not anything exciting just the type of work which kept me busy on the bridge – without getting my usual 8-9 hours sleep.  However we have a little time to ourselves today – hence a letter to my darling.

My mail has not caught up with one as yet.  Gosh it has been six weeks since I have heard from my little girl.  (At this time, they have not received any letters from home.  As they meet ships at sea and in port, they are able to drop post in most places they stopped.  But they needed to be in one place long enough to receive letters from home.  This was a huge morale issue)

My ship is rapidly getting to be a snappy well-tuned organization.  The boys have at least realized that second place does not exist in the game.  Their improvement has been extremely gratifying.  I will be ready for any kind of an engagement.

Now how is my sweetheart?  Miss me??  And our little girl does she miss her Daddy?  I certainly miss you and believe it or not am always thinking regardless of how busy I may be – and when these beautiful sunsets radiate in the western horizon – boy oh boy how I miss you."

More later, as they prepare to do battle with the Japanese forces in the Solomon Islands. 

Tammi

Today they call it PTSD, or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  A person who suffers a severe physical or psychological injury (sometimes both) can develop symptoms of PTSD such as the tendency to relive the event when something triggers a memory, avoidance of situations that remind you of the event, emotional numbness and generally feeling keyed up or on the alert (http://www.webmd.com/anxiety-panic/tc/post-traumatic-stress-disorder--symptoms).  Other indicators are despair or hopelessness, difficulty with controlling emotions and impulsive or self-destructive behavior, including suicide.  PTSD does not only occur among the military, but an alarming number of our young men and women returning from the battle field are diagnosed with PTSD and are resorting to suicide to escape. The rate of suicides has risen alarmingly during our wars in Iraq and Afghanistan and I can’t understand why our medical professionals and the military strategists who are guiding the progress of this war aren’t doing more to keep them safe and well. 

This topic came from one of my favorite web sites.  I’m a huge fan of the Doonesbury comic strip.  Garry Trudeau has a page called The Sandbox that is a forum dedicated to the military.  Men and women serving overseas can blog their experiences in an open forum.  Some are downright hilarious, as they write about the humorous things that get them through the day.  Most are earthy, visceral and touching, such as the one you will find here titled Nightmare by James Gibson: http://gocomics.typepad.com/the_sandbox/.   It’s worth reading and worth pondering.   

When our men from Strong came home from war, terms used were “battle fatigue” or “shell shock”.  I heard stories from two men in particular that have stayed with me, and I will not name them but will relate their tales.  One gentleman (a Strong man who passed last year) and his wife had shared separate bedrooms for decades, because he would come alert in his sleep and attempt to strangle his wife, thinking he was killing a Japanese soldier.   Another man who passed a couple of years ago in his 90’s would to his death day sleep with his shoes on and fully clothed as, “You never know when you might have to evacuate.”  In their day I have no idea what kind of help they would receive, if any.  But now we know what causes this trauma, we know how to diagnose it and know how to effectively treat it and attempt to return these young people back to living their lives. The fact that we are so often dropping the ball is beyond catastrophic, and I speak from experience.

This issue is very personal, as we lost my Dad to suicide 33 years ago Christmas. I know what the families of these men and women go through – the trauma, the pain and the guilt of not understanding what was happening in front of you and of not being able to see the signs. In many cases it's simply denial that doesn't allow you to see that the person you love is falling apart piece by piece until it's too late.  Once they are buried and mourned, you begin to remember the little clues.  There's this constant thinking, ”I saw that, why didn't I do something?” or “What could I have said to change things?”  In my case we simply had no experience with such an event.  Funny how fast you learn.  It's a trauma that's not easy to share or to talk with others about, but in the case of our young military families, these days we know what causes this, we know how to recognize it and we know how to help them.  So why aren't we?  Are we truly pushing these people out on the battlefield, reeling them back in and sending them home to fend for themselves with no support systems in place?

I remember being with our godson Andrew and his mother when he returned from his first Army deployment to Iraq.  We met him at Ft. Bragg along with all the other military families with the hugs, photos and the general decompression that comes with “My God, he's/she's finally on safe ground.”  Once we got to the hotel room, it was evident that he was totally WIRED.  Whether it was from exhaustion, fatigue, or just generally being shuttled from a tent to 4 solid walls in a 24 hour period, I'm not sure.  But he only wanted to pull out his command laptop and show us film and photos of what he had to deal with while over there.  Once he booted up, we had difficulty pulling him away to go eat his first decent meal in months.  He was so focused still on the field of battle, his friends that he left over there and of what was to become of him now that he was back on base.  He had a second deployment to Afghanistan that lasted 16 months, and thankfully was better prepared and had more time to adjust to the situations thrust upon him.  He returned, went to law school and is now serving as a Navy JAG in San Diego, happy, married, well-adjusted and amazing.  Maybe he had better coping skills than others, I really can’t say.  But I can say that we can do more to help those who don't cope as well.

To those of you who have sons, daughters, nephews and nieces or grandchildren who are currently serving their country, be there for them.  That’s the simple message here.  Notice them, talk to them, do not assume that whatever they experienced, that they will “get over it.”  By the time they do get past it, it might be too late to make a difference.

To learn more, here’s a link to an article from CBS News: http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-504763_162-57394452-10391704/study-suicide-rates-among-army-soldiers-up-80-percent/

Tammi

   On January 10th, 1943, the men of Strong crossed the equator.  At this time they performed the ceremony of King Neptune’s Court in order to win safe passage on through the Pacific.    Photos highlighting this ceremony are for viewing on the Memories of Strong page, and speak of mucho fun and hilarity shared by all.  There’s a neat story that’s attached to these photos however, one that brought me so much closer to understanding the bond that I share with my great-uncle who died 15 years before I was even born.  I’d like to share the story of these photos and how I got them, and of the letter that came to me after the death of his sister Lillian, or Toots as she was called most of her life. 

Back in 2007, Milt Hackett was kind enough to share these photos with me of the crossing of the equator.  At the time, I was just so pleased and excited to get them, that at first didn’t really understand what was going on.  Looking at them it appeared to be some kind of fraternity-like hazing on board ship, and the explanation evaded me.  Milt’s letter accompanying them did not explain the significance of the day.  As I was holding them in my hands, I looked at my hubby and said, “I wish I knew what was going on here.  I wish I had something from Billy that would explain this!”

When you put your request out to the universe, sometimes the universe answers.

A few months later, Billy’s sister Lillian died in Illinois.  Her family shipped some of her belongings to her only surviving sibling, my Aunt Stella.  Among those belongings there was a letter that  Billy had sent home, dated January 17th, 1943.  Stella knew all along of my affection for Billy and of my research, so she forwarded the letter to me.  Upon opening the letter and reading it, I had to sit down and collect myself.  He heard my request, he truly did.  Otherwise, how did this come to me? 

It was 70 years ago tomorrow January 17th, 1943 that Billy wrote this letter home. Here's a precious excerpt:

“Several days ago we crossed the equator. Perhaps you've heard of the ceremonies attending that occasion. The day before we crossed the line Davy Jones and his crew came aboard to serve subpoenas to all Polliwogs (those who had never been across). The next day Neptunus Rex and his court were aboard for the trial. In the court were the Queen and royal baby, three royal barbers, the royal chaplain, the royal surgeons, and the royal judge (Convictus Certainus). Besides these there was a receiving line made up of about fifty other Shellbacks (those who had been across the line before) and the royal imp, with horns, tail and trident.

The imp sought out each polliwog and escorted him to the receiving line, who drove him on hands and knees with fludgeons through a shower of seawater. After the judge had passed the usual decision, we were sent to the royal barbers – now I'm as bald as a bean.

The royal baby was a fat chief petty officer. He had on a huge diaper and had mustard colored gun grease smeared on his belly. Each polliwog had to kiss the royal baby's belly. Next we had massages and facials with fuel oil and graphite. Boy, what a mess.”

  Later, when I met Lillian’s son Jim and daughter Lilith for the first time I asked Jim about the letter and how they came to send it to Stella.  His response was, “I have no recollection of sending that letter with her things, or how it got there.”  So am I being fanciful and silly?  Or do I accept it as the gift it was and continue to pursue this project in the hopes that some day we will get to the Kula Gulf, we will film a documentary, get that Medal of Honor for Hugh Barr Miller Jr., and give Strong her place in history? 

I think I’ll stick with it.  It’s been an awesome ride so far.

Tammi

Sadly I report the loss of another Strong sailor, William James Stancill, native of Pitt County, North Carolina.  Mr. Stancill departed on New Year's Eve after a long and productive life.   He is survived by his: wife of 66 years, Louise Sumerlin Stancill;
daughters, Gayle Stancill, of the home and Maxine Stancill Edwards and husband, Kelly, of Winterville; sons, William Jennings Stancill and wife, Nancy and A.J. Stancill and wife, Sherry, all of Greenville; grandchildren, Edwin Stancill and wife, Crystal, of Emeral Isle, Jennifer Stancill McKeel, and Wendy Stancill Gaskins, all of Greenville, and Alan Stancill and wife, Carole, of Roanoke, VA; great-grandchildren, Dylan Stancill, Jonathan R. Stancill, all of Greenville, Deanna Stancill, of Emerald Isle, Bryce McKeel, Joshua McKeel, Paige McKeel and Abby Gaskins, all of Greenville, Jonathan K. Stancill and Elizabeth Stancill, of Roanoke, VA; sister, Nora Stancill Sutton, of Greenville; and a niece, Marlene Sutton Dory and husband, Bill, of Greenville.  Click on the link here to read the entire obituary: http://www.wilkersonfuneralhome.com/new_view.php?id=1969345 (Photo from Wilkerson Funeral Home site)

Just before the holidays I heard from Mr. Stancill's daughter, Maxine Stancill Edwards.  At the time her father was in ill health.  After responding to her, it wasn't until today that I heard back from her and she shared her news.  If anyone would like to send condolences you can follow the information on the obituary link, or I can hook you up with Maxine if you contact me directly.  There are a couple of photos of him as a young man in the Navy that will be posted to the Memories of Strong page.  Another shipmate lost, but he lives on in the hearts of his family and here on the web site.  As long as we talk about them, as long as we remember them, they are never really gone.  That's the way I like to think about it anyway. 

Smooth sailing, Mr. Stancill.  Calm seas and clear skies to you.

Tammi

Hello all,
This holiday season most of us celebrate a traditional Christmas.  There are folks who celebrate Hanukkah, Kwanza, the Solstice or any number of other religions, beliefs, or traditions.   To all of us, all of you I wish you all the best in however you and your families celebrate the season and the New Year. 

That being said, I thought I'd share something with you from Captain Wellings' collection from the Naval War College.  While searching his archives for items to copy, I found this - the menu for the Christmas dinner served to the crew on December 25th, 1942 while the men were docked in the Brooklyn Navy Yard.  This document and an attached note to his wife are on the Memories of Strong page as well.  I was really moved by this menu because I realized that this was the very last Christmas dinner for 46 of the men, including my Uncle Billy.  It's a typical meal with turkey and the trimmings, but atypical in that some of them would not see another holiday season. 

I have an excerpt to share from the letter Gus wrote home on December 26th, 1942.  He speaks of calling Dolly and hearing her voice, then of his activities on Christmas Eve and the next day:

"Fred and I called from the Towers in Brooklyn, then had two drinks and were back aboard by 1045 pm.  We listened to “Command Performance” from 1100 to midnight and then to bed with thoughts of my two little girls in Boston.  After a late breakfast I opened my presents and was happy to read your card and to receive the scarf from Anne.  I received a tie from Gladys and a pocketbook from Marg.  Then Donald and Jackie Fulham and yours truly went to 1000 mass in Brooklyn.  The service was really beautiful.  I thanked God for his many kindnesses and promised that I would be worthy of this trust.  I also asked him to take good care of my darlings.  However I could not help but being sad.  On the way out of church a lady dressed in deep black broke into tears when she saw the three of us leave the pew to leave the church.  It was easy to guess that she had lost a son in the Navy or perhaps another branch of the service.

Before lunch I spoke to the crew and read your telegram.  I really think I “put it across”.  I then tried to call home but the earliest I could get a call through was from 2 to 3 hours.  We had a fine dinner at 1230 and sailed immediately afterwards."

So not much time was spent in any kind of celebration, before they headed to sea with purpose.  They were together as a crew for this last Christmas, their family at sea.  While they missed the families at home, I feel that Wellings and his fellow officers did their best to give these guys a memorable holiday. 

We remember the men and women who serve us now, and allow us to feel safe in our homes, and safe to celebrate in whatever fashion we see fit. 
Thank you for your service, and much love and happiness to all for the New Year!

Tammi