[RascalPuff]

All of the following list of stressors are on file with the Bureau of Veterans Affairs.
I am twice diagnosed with severe childhood and military related PTSD.

Contingent nightmares and intrusive waking thoughts accompany all of the following incidents.

Two hurricanes, one in the Med, in 1960, and one in the North Atlantic in March, ‘62.

Our 25,000 ton ammunition ship (USS Great Sitkin AE-17 - named after a volcano in the Aleutian Chain), lost power in the middle of the 2nd day of the hurricane of ‘62. We lost forward way for about a minute, exposed our port beam to the oncoming weather and rolled over on our starboard side - approaching 90o for about a minute - before we regained power and recovered before rolling completely over.
In the last two days of the three day (Atlantic) hurricane, one man was pleading for someone to shoot him. Another comrade was threatening to kill himself with a knife. I was telling jokes while I was terrified. As a (three year seasoned) coxswain I had trained myself to endure bad weather (in small craft) while remaining stoic about the sometimes frightening - passenger panicking - weather. Composure under stress was expected of me, and fear is contagious. An undetermined number of men were sedated and some officers did not leave their quarters during this particularly bad, category five, storm (steady 120 foot swelling breakers with rogue 140 footers). We were in formation with several other navy ships, including the USS Canisteo, which lost two enlisted men swept over the side and a helicopter & crew that attempted to recover them.
I did not eat or sleep during this second hurricane in the North Atlantic. I passively surrendered to what I considered to be the imminent perishing of the ship and crew. This, and comforting others, made it easier for me to endure without panicking.
Although there is written (claim submitted) testimony from my shipmates (Roger Branch transferred about 9/’61, and consequently did not witness the second - and by far the worst - hurricane, of March ‘62), there is no report of these events in my *service medical record (*SMR).
_____________________________
Thanksgiving Day of ‘61. St. Tropez, France.
Contrary to the SMR report regarding this incident - that I ‘accepted a ride’ from four ‘French civilians’ in a car - I was forcibly thrown into that vehicle, after they offered me a ride and I declined. They harshly identified themselves as American hating Communists. Neither was I ‘thrown from’ it, but rather escaped the vehicle by voluntarily throwing myself out of it; when it was traveling at about 35 mph. I somersaulted out and my lower back hit the ground first before I continued rolling several times from off the side of the road and into a ditch. They turned around to come back and get me but it was dark and I had concealed myself in underbrush, anticipating that they might return. Because I escaped the vehicle, I had never considered this an ‘abduction’, until so advised by Vets Administration PTSD counselors.
________________________________

Hang Fire On A Hot Gun
We were at GQ stations and had been firing at aircraft towed targets (‘sleeves’ and radio controlled drones) all morning and afternoon. The artillery piece was excessively overheated. A dud (unfired/dud) round of live artillery ammo was consequently cooking off, inside the overheated breach. The warhead, under these circumstances, 'cooks off'; explodes, before the propellant charge does. The ignited warhead does not leave the muzzle and explode at a distance; it explodes inside the breach; transforming the entire artillery piece into high explosive (HE - super sonic) fragmentation. This circumstance also presents a secondary fire and explosion hazard.
Gun Captain, 2nd Div Petty Officer Branch asked for a volunteer and winked at me. As 1st Loader, I had homed the round and felt it my duty to unseat it. I volunteered. The Gun station was temporarily evacuated of its crew, which was moved to the outside of the splinter shield surrounding the hazarded mount, while through a head set, gun captain Branch described the situation to the bridge and received instructions from that location.
The people who were supposed to deal with it (Gunner's Mates ratings), paled and balked their assigned duties. Time was running out. If the round ‘cooked off’, the entire warhead, having a lower ignition temperature than the propellant charge, would detonate first, before the propellant charge; causing the steel breech surrounding it to automatically become a massive amount of shrapnel (frag), easily able to compromise both lightly shielded gun crews assembled underneath the gun turrets on the stern (14 men).
Petty officer Branch, did not argue with the reluctant Gunner's Mates ratings. Winked at his first loader and said: "I need another volunteer, besides myself ".
I volunteered for the objective of extracting the cooking off round, and throwing it over the side, before it detonated inside the breech.
.
Petty officer Branch broke the more secure cover of the splinter shield with me, returning back to the interior smoking gun mount. Paint was bubbling and peeling off of the entire artillery piece. Branch wore a headphone & speaker set, to receive instructions from the Gunner's Mates and the bridge.
The Gunner's Mate petty officer Laport gave petty officer Branch a special camming tool, with which to open the locked breech, to access and remove the round. Branch and I could hear the huddled men on the 'safer' side of the splinter shield (gun tub) talking about how the heated breech and round were probably expanded, and that for this reason, they weren't going to be able to extract the round, and that the two deployed men, and perhaps all the men huddled on the other side of the splinter shield, if not the entire ammunition ship's crew - in the event of secondary explosions and uncontrollable fires - and possibly the surrounding squadron of ships (because we were an ammo ship), therefore, might be endangered.
Under instructions through his head-set, Petty Officer Branch, successfully opened the locked breech.
Asbestos gloves protected me up to my shoulders. The grease from the gloves sizzled and projected a thick white smoke, as they came in contact with the baking round - which slid smoothly out of the breech when Branch unlocked it.
The brass casing reflected a purple-red hue; with its seated projectile - its’ formerly bright, code-painted warhead burned to gray, was peeling and smoldering. It sizzled on contact with the greasy asbestos gloves; exuding a thick, acrid column of opaque white smoke. I quickly sidestepped to the inboard splinter-shield, threw the tumbling round over the side and took cover on the deck behind the shield.
The round, struck the sea with a short, loud quenching sound. Like a scorched branding iron thrust in a water bucket - immediately followed by detonation on impact with the ocean's surface. The hot round apparently being so unstable as to explosively respond to its impact on the water, before it cooled below ignition temperature. Two gun crews (14 men) and several enlisted men and officers on the bridge with binoculars witnessed this incident. Petty Officer Branch commented that, had the round exploded a few seconds earlier, they wouldn’t even have found my dog-tags in a crimson mist.
Although there is enclosed testimony of every phase of this incident from shipmates, there is no report of this event in my *service medical record (*SMR).
__________

3" 50 Artillery Recoil
SMR incident of recoil injury. The (3" 50/105 howitzer) gun was angled at very high elevation with the breach down next to the deck when I homed the round, while the ship was in a heavy roll in that direction - I nearly fell into the recoil (The gun is not ‘lanyard activated’ - instead, it automatically fires as soon as the breach closes after each round is homed in the chamber by hand). The breach struck the heel of the loading right hand, spun me around and momentarily paralyzed my right shoulder; the arm was thrust behind my back and convulsing for several moments. I dropped to my knees, grabbed the sleeve of my right arm with my left hand and pulled the arm forward after placing the forearm between my knees. When medics arrived, Gun Captain Roger Branch and several of the gun crewman told them what had just happened and they said that this reaction had ‘reduced’ a dislocated shoulder. I was consequently allotted ‘light duty’ for several weeks. The incident is recorded as having occurred, 23 May '61, while the fleet was preparing to invade the Bay Of Pigs. I was first loader at my GQ station for 3 ½ years.

Please proceed to Pt II
_______________________