TBS 2-67 Cruisebook_Updated_7Jan23

John Burwell Wilkes
For several weeks I fought the battery alone but with the good help
from my corporal ops chief who was a smart kid. I did find out there
was a lieutenant who belonged to the battery, but he was recovering
from malaria on a hospital ship out in the South China Sea. When this
officer did return I was sadly disappointed. He was somebody not cut
out for combat and thus, also not cut out to be an officer of Marines.
He was more of an obstacle to me than an asset. He spent most of his
time trying to manufacture reasons that he needed to go to the
battalion’s rear area at relatively safe Quang Tri. I suspected that he
had acquired the malaria on purpose by failing to take the prophylactic
pills that protected all Marines. Finally, I sent him to Quang Tri
permanently, and had him reassigned to a non­ combatant role outside
the artillery.
The first days with the battery took a toll on my well being, because I
was also doing the work of a fire direction officer and an executive
officer. Sleep was hard to come by since I could not turn down a fire
mission just because I was tired. Since a 155 towed battery was not
part of the Battalion Table of Organization, I was fortunate in that,
technically, I was not an official Battery Commander. I carried the title
Officer­in­Charge. This meant I did not have to spend a lot of time
doing the normal commander’s administrative paperwork duties. Such
was handled for me by the commander of the battalion’s Headquarters
Battery. However, I still had to write fitness reports and do enlisted
evaluations, but that also was not yet an issue in the early days of my
command.
Finally, LtCol Foxworth must have taken pity on me because I
received word that I was getting a first lieutenant fresh out of artillery
school. His name was Joseph Ferrari, and he was from New York City
with an Italian heritage. He was a mustang officer having been a
gunnery sergeant with a logistics background before being selected
meritoriously for Officer Candidate School. I couldn’t wait to meet
him. At the time we were situated at a firebase near the DMZ that was
accessible by land transportation, but the route required a river
crossing that was made on an old amphibious vehicle called a DUKW
which was pronounced “duck.” I would have to meet Ferrari and pick
him up on our side of the river.
On that day it had been raining and the river was badly swollen with
a dangerous current. I spotted Ferrari right away as he boarded the
DUKW carrying his duffel bag and wearing a flak jacket and full
deuce gear. He was a short stocky man of about 40 years and sported a
bushy mustache. When the DUKW was about halfway across the
river, the rushing current pushed it out of its intended route and it hit a
boulder causing it to roll on its side throwing Ferrari and his duffel bag
into the current. It was quickly evident to me that Ferrari was not a
swimmer. With all the deuce gear and flack jacket, he was having
difficulty keeping his head above water as he was being swept
downstream.
As a young man, I had been a competitive swimmer, as well as a life
guard, during my college summers. I told my driver to get the rope out
of his vehicle and follow me down river. I ran along the bank until I
got ahead of Ferrari. The driver caught up. I grabbed one end and told
him to hold the other end before I dove into the river and made it to
Ferrari just before he was about to slip by. My driver wrapped his end
of the rope around a tree trunk to hold the line taut, and the current
helped me pull Ferrari to the bank still holding onto his duffel bag!
As a side note, Ferrari wasn’t the only thing that came out of that
A‐66