Earthquake Alaska 1964

CGRADSTA Kodiak - NOJ---Semper Paratus

27 March, 1964.  As a young RM1, I lived just across the street from the Navy control tower on Civilian Hill.  It was one of the highest elevations at the Navy Station Kodiak. Living in government housing, I could walk across the street to perform my very enjoyable duties as a Coast Guard Radioman.  NOJ was located on the first floor of the Navy tower building.  Just two rooms, it was a major hub of communications for the 17th Coast Guard District. 

During the cold war between U.S. and Russia all residents of America were constantly reminded of procedures to protect them in case of nuclear attack.  Get in your closet, get into your basement if you have one, and cover yourself with anything that would help protect you from a devastating blast.  At 5:36 PM, it happened!  Russia, being not more than a few hundred miles from Kodiak, had just released the most horrendous catastrophe imaginable.  (In my mind.)  The house started shaking.  The pictures fell from the walls.  The dishes came flying from the cabinets.  My wife's agile and beautiful 23-year-old body could barely remain standing.  With a need to survive, at this instant my mind could only think of the precautions that had been drummed into heads of most citizens.  Immediately, I  grabbed my wife and two small children and started to shove them into the closet, yelling, "We are under attack, we are under attack."  As usual, her senses were more pragmatic than mine.  "It's an earthquake honey, just relax," she screamed and refused to move. 

Indeed, we had been hit by an earthquake...not a nuclear blast.  As I would later learn, not only was it an earthquake but one of the strongest and most deadly that had ever occurred in the U.S.  Within 15 minutes, the classic old black telephone rang.  It was my chief.  "Get to the station fast and just in case, have your wife take the kids up to the chiefs club for the tidal wave that is expected at any time."  Enough said!  I hadn't been in the Coast Guard for that long, but I knew if the chief said it, it was true.  So away she and the kids went, and away I went.

Being the senior RM1, I had recently been put on the day watch.  My duty was to hold down the aircraft position.  Maintaining communications with the several HU16s, one C123 and other transit aircraft was my responsibility.  I can honestly say that the job would never been done properly, had the innovative old chief not "comshawed" a Collins 51J4 receiver and strung a long wire antenna outside the window.  Prior to that, we were expected to operate exclusively using the remotely controlled receivers located at the Navy Receiver Site at Holiday Beach, a distance of 15 miles north.  No doubt, they had an all-encompassing array of excellent receivers.  Had we been able to use them locally and do what all old timey RMs do, it would have been a pleasure.  "Just tinker with the knobs until you get your best signal, try a different antenna and you were in business."  The lack of that simple maneuver with the remote receivers, thanks to the chief, left us with the old reliable locally installed 51J4. It saved the day more than once.   

After a few weeks working aircraft flying between Kodiak and places like Cape Hinchinbrook, Cape St Elias, St Paul, and as far north as Nome you would soon learn where to expect comm problems.  From our location, a well-known dead zone existed for aircraft from about 75 miles to 125 miles out.  You could consistently expect the signal on 5695.5 KHZ to fade at this circumference from Kodiak.  No matter what you would do, and we tried everything, this could be expected.  The "Ops Normal" report from the aircraft would not be forthcoming during this time.  We received a daily propagation report from Washington.  If the report was bad the dead zone would be increased.  With good prop reports, it wouldn't be so bad. 

In our small comms space, we also had two other operator positions.  One was 2182 KHz and the other was 500 KHz.  The 2182 position along with the district working frequency was where all of the remote light stations, loran stations, and others relayed their official traffic.  No need to explain what we did on the 500 position.  We also had landline between us and the district, CGAD and a few Navy units. 

Upon arriving at the site that day, it didn't take long to settle down to my routine.  One aircraft was airborne and several others were trying to get off the ground.  There was only one problem!  The hangar and CGAD were located adjacent to the bay with the ramp for seaplanes to enter and return from the water.  Within an hour or so, a tidal wave had caused the water to rise into the hanger.  With few pilots at the site, the enlisted ADs and others ramped up the HU16s and the one C123 and moved them to the high end of the runway.  Things were in havoc for a while, but in the end, all were saved. 

At first, there was some nervousness at NOJ.  Soon, we all realized it was just another day of heavy traffic.  By around 8 PM all aircraft that could fly were in the air.  As mentioned in CGAD 290012Z, NOJ was swarmed by the CO, XO, several other officers and the small staff supporting the OOD.  NOJ had suddenly become KODIAKSARCOORD.  The small chief's office adjacent to the radio room was about 16x16 and had two facing desks.  It didn't take anyone long to figure out that this just wouldn't work.  Eventually, the only people remaining were the OOD (a LT) and a couple of support people.  This worked out fine for a day or so, until the water subsided from the hanger and it was declared safe.   

One thing not noted in the message traffic, was that NOJ not only accommodated the CGAD Headquarters, but also COMALSEAFRON.  The office for them was just next to the CGAD hanger and it was also inundated.  Since the air traffic control tower, and NOJ, were on "the hill" COMALSEAFRON also evacuated to the three story tower.  The tower didn't have any room for the admiral or his staff, so initially, the admiral was located in the chief's office along with the CGAD OOD.  It goes without saying, the chief gladly gave up his office.  With all the chaos going on, he wound up being a vital assistant for the very busy OOD.  The chief loved his novel duties.  Anyone who ever knew Chief Holton, would appreciate his embellishment of how he was able to guide the LT during his brief tutelage period.  The truth be known, he did provide a much needed hand of guidance for the LT in this time where team playing often carries the day.

When I saw the COMM-ONE rag recently, I looked at the messages with awe and appreciation.  It is not the first time I have seen many of them.  Many of these messages I personally received from aircraft such as 1325, 1271, 1314, and 7228.  The aircraft numbers are indelibly imprinted in my head.  Anyone who has ever been a radioman has certain minute details such as these still echoing in their ears. 

I have never had the pleasure of knowing RM2 John R. Smith, the person who submitted these messages.  I am glad that they were so graciously published in the last rag.  I can say that we all owe a debt of gratitude to John.  The few pages he provided are a small but rare note in history.  What I do know, is that this chronicle will now survive for generations to come.  Present-day Coast Guard communicators are not referred to as radiomen.  No doubt, that in the future they will go by monikers other than what they are called even now.  Whatever they will be called, like other items in COMM-ONE future communicators can look back at how a few of the "pioneers" in their field made their mark. 

The descendants of all NOJ personnel will be proud to have known that their forbearers had a small but positive contribution to history.  Thank you RMC Delbert Holton, RMC William Sawyer, RM1 Dick Bundy, RM1 Denny Klosterman, RM1 Emery Crews, all deceased.  In addition, thank you RM1 Al Blakeney, RM2 Ted Walker, RM2 Lippich and one or two others whose names I cannot remember.  Finally, thank the publishers and staff of COMM-ONE for making this information available for us to read. 

At 81, I am still kicking.  I cannot have more respect for these men and others that I have served with during my 30 years of Coast Guard service.  Whatever time I have left, I plan to continue writing books and other pieces.  A few of my books can be seen at my website http://www.blingbooks.com for those who may be interested. --- CWO4 Ron Hudson, USCG (ret)