Lost Boats Memorial
Special Thanks and Recognition to National Artist Stephen Petreshock
sketch of "The Submariners Tomb" and to Billy Grieves presentation of his
1993 Submarine Memorial Speech
1993 MEMORIAL SERVICE SPEECH by: Billy Grieves
at Anaheim, CA
There is a story...a story not easy to tell. And yet one that must be told.
There was no one in the entertainment field more admired and appreciated by
the American G.I. than Bob Hope. Bob was once asked why he did it; why he
continued to travel all over the world, giving so much of his time and energy
to entertain our troops. And his answer was this: “Because you’ve got to be
there. You can read about it in the press, or you can see it on the screen,
but if you really want to know what our boys are going through, you’ve got to
be there.” And so it was with us.
World War II has been well documented; stories, books, movies but the full
story of the submarine service has never been told... nor can it be. Can gut—
wrenching fear be recorded by a camera? Can interminable fatigue and
discomfort that goes on for days and weeks on end? And what about dedication
to duty.... and the deep fraternal bond that was forged only among men who
took our submarines to war? We know they can’t.. and this was the story of
the submarine service.
And now as we look back on it all it’s like an observer of a darkened stage;
all the players are gone and the huge theater is empty. And yet, out of the
emptiness, there still echoes the excitement, the laughter, and the sadness
that was part of the play. But supposing our observer should leave the
theater and step out onto the busy street. Would a passing stranger be able
to understand his faint half-smile as he recalls some cheerful part of the
story? Or would that stranger be able to hear the haunting melody of the
theme that keeps echoing through the background of his mind? To understand it
you had to be a part of it, you had to be there.
After the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, many of our Navy men were left
with a feeling of deep, PERSONAL loss. For several days after the attack a
heavy pall of gray smoke hung like fog over the entire harbor and the Navy
shipyard. And as we sailed slowly past Battleship Row and viewed the
horrifying destruction: The Arizona, on the bottom; the Oklahoma, capsized
and keel up; the West Virginia; the California; the Maryland; the
Pennsylvania; the Tennessee; and others, all heavily damaged and some still
burning with smoke pouring from their bowels, the men just stood at the rail,
most did not speak. These were not ships that belonged to some remote
population back in the States who just happened to have built them and paid
for them with their tax money. Many of the men felt, “This is MY Navy and
these are MY ships and the Japanese have destroyed them.” It left a sense of
fury that for some has never entirely abated.
And then the war progressed... and one by one, 52 of our submarines were sent
to the bottom. And now the sense of loss became even more personal and we
said, “Those were MY shipmates.” And this is the story that must be told. It
is a story of great suffering, a story of tremendous sacrifice, a story of
heroic achievement. To that end, we have erected memorials all across this
country.
There is a tiny island out in the Pacific. It’s one of a small group of
islands known as French Frigate Shoals. And it lies about half way between
Pearl Harbor and Midway Island. Those of you who were involved with the
navigation of our boats; you who were officers, or quartermasters, or
signal men, will remember them clearly because we passed them either to port
or starboard whenever we put in or out of Pearl on war patrol. And on this
tiny island is an abandoned Coast Guard Station. One of it’s former
occupants was so taken by the beauty and serenity of the place that he left a
note in a wooden box which was subsequently recovered and recorded. The
message of this note, with some modification, would make an appropriate
addition to each of our memorials. It would impress upon future generations
our purpose in putting them there. Here is the message:
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Walk softly.
Walk softly stranger.
You stand on holy ground.
As you journey across this broad and beautiful land from sea to shining sea,
you cannot help being moved by the wonder of the things you see:
Historic New England with it’s rocky coast and frothy surf,
still breathing an aura of whaling ships and sailing days;
The majestic mountains of the west with their towering peaks and pink spires
and the sun gleaming off granite cliffs rising shear for thousands of feet;
The grandeur of the old south with it's flowering trees and scented air and
golden beaches that dazzle the eye;
The dynamic west coast with it’s cloud-piercing mountains looming over the
shore and curving roads that overlook the sea.
This is the beauty that is America, the wonder that is America. It is your
God-given inheritance to use and enjoy at your pleasure. But these pathways
to the good life did not come free of charge. More than a million Americans
down through the yellowing pages of history have sacrificed their lives for
your irreplaceable legacy and your American way of life. For more than 3,500
of these who gave their lives on American submarines in World War II, there
can be no rows of polished markers. Their tombs are buried in the silent
depths of the oceans, forever rocked by the eternal tides of history. It is
to them this place and this moment in time are dedicated.
Walk softly,
walk softly stranger.
You stand on holy ground.
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Every country owes an enormous debt to those heroes who have given their
lives to protect the freedom of its people. No country recognizes this more
than Australia. The city of Melbourne is a city world famous for it’s many
beautiful parks. More than 20% of this city is comprised of parks and
gardens. In one of the most prominent of these located on the south side of
Melbourne, they have erected a war memorial. They call it ‘THE SHRINE OF
REMEMBRANCE” and we have nothing in this country to compare with it. This
shrine is really an edifice, a broad-based building seven stories tall
constructed of white granite in the architecture of the ancient Greeks. The
outside of this building is embellished with huge marble statues and fluted
columns that cause the eye to sweep upward. The roof of the building is a
truncated pyramid made of cascading layers of stone. And mounted on the top
is a large bronze “Symbol of Glory”. But herein lies the crowning
distinction of this memorial: On one side of the roof, one of the stone’s is
removable. But I’ll get back to this later.
As you step through the massive bronze doors into the sanctuary, even the
little children are admonished to speak in whispers. And you will notice
that, except for an enclosed balcony around the first floor, this entire
building, floor to roof, is completely hollow. And mounted in the very
center of the marble floor is a large bronze plaque surrounded by a low
carved-stone railing, about a foot high. But the plaque, itself, is
depressed about a foot below the floor level. It is depressed so that anyone
reading the words on that plaque must bow his head in reverence.
The 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month is known as “Armistice Hour”
in Australia. And it is on this day that the stone is removed from the roof.
And at exactly 11:00 A.M., and for a period of four minutes, the sun’s rays
shine down through the opening and beam like a laser right on that plaque.
The words on that plaque read “GREATER LOVE HATH NO MAN”. Just seeing it
is a tremendously moving experience. It has a presence about it which seems
to say, “THIS IS A HOLY SPOT WHERE VALOR PROUDLY SLEEPS”.
Walk softly, walk softly stranger.
You stand on holy ground.
The final curtain on the play has fallen. And all that remains is for you
and I to close the show. But, for us, there will always be the memory of the
glory, and the triumph, and the tragedy that was part of the play. And if
some day some stranger should ask,
“What was it like living and going through
an attack on that submarine you were on?”
There's just one answer you can give
“You had to be a part of it. You had to be there”.
The last page of a booklet obtainable at the Melbourne “Shrine of
Remembrance” contains only these four lines of an Australian poem:
They were young, Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.
Bravely they died. In proud remembrance we salute them.
Will you stand please?
Followed by the:
BELL TOLLING CEREMONY