VOL.12 NO.140
Adar II 5782
March 2022
Price in US $10.99
Canada $12.95
UK £9.00
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IN-DEPTH COVERAGE, TIMELY ISSUES, STIMULATING STORIES FOR THE JEWISH FAMILY
ASSAULT ON
RUBY
RIDGE
The US Offensive Against
One American Family
Hundreds of federal law enforcement agents, heavily armed
troops, state police, helicopters, and even tanks went to war in
the summer of 1992… against a family of seven living in the
wilds of Northern Idaho. Learn about the case that prompted such
extreme action against relatively minor lawbreakers—and how
the police themselves became lawbreakers in the process.
Torn In Two
Unsolved Forensic Mysteries
Successful Imposters
T
O
R
O
T N
IN TWO
A ship caught in turbulent waters at sea may not sound like the
most unusual event as there have been many such tragic disasters
in human history. But on one stormy night in 1952, events took
even the most seasoned US Coastguards by surprise. During the
worst blizzard to hit the coast of New England for decades, there
was not just one ship in distress… but two.
• Rivky Blum
Two Ships Split During
a Terrible Storm…
Did Anyone Survive?
28 | ZMAN • March 2022
ZMAN • Adar II 5782 | 29
Chatham, Massachusetts
I
t was February 18, 1952. Bernie Webber
cradled a cup of coffee in his hands as he
stared out of the foggy window. Outside
the Coast Guard headquarters the storm
roared as clouds of snow beat against the
building. The wind had been gathering
strength for the last two days, but he
wondered if the worst was yet to come.
Thinking of any vessels that might still be at
sea, he shuddered. This was Chatham, after
all, nicknamed by sailors as “the graveyard
of the Atlantic.” The area was known for its
dangerous and unforgiving waters, even in
calm weather. Many a ship had sunk due to
the strong currents off the coast of Cape
Cod. He prayed that no one was out there
tonight.
Although he was only 24, Webber was
no stranger to the sea. Too restless for the
career in the ministry that his father had
planned for him, Webber dropped out of
school at 16 and soon found his calling in
a US Maritime training course. He enlisted
in the coast guard, and that was it for
him. The life of a Coast Guard member is
tough, but Webber wouldn’t trade it for
any other. He had been on the seas for
nearly a decade, and in that time earned an
impressive record. But looking at the storm
raging outside now, none of this came to
mind. Only a primal fear of the sea and the
dangers it posed.
The SS Pendleton
Captain John J Fitzgerald, commander
of the SS Pendleton, gazed at the churning
waters beneath him. It had been a difficult
journey since they had run into a storm
shortly after departing Louisiana on February 12, and the bad weather had never truly
left them. But this, he thought morosely,
was their toughest challenge yet. A blizzard
raged around them, making it impossible to
see more than a few feet in any direction.
On February 17, 1952, the Pendleton
reached the outskirts of Boston Harbor.
After their harrowing experience on board,
the crew was looking forward to walking
30 | ZMAN • March 2022
on
solid
ground.
Several crew members
had loved ones in
New England whom
they had been waiting
weeks to see.
But
the
longawaited
reunions
would have to wait.
As Captain Fitzgerald
drew the ship toward Bernie Webber.
the coast, he realized
something was missing. The bright beam
of the Boston lighthouse had disappeared,
invisible in the flurries of snow attacking
from all sides. Without the beacon to guide
them, he would not be able to steer the
massive tanker into the harbor without
putting their lives at risk. With little choice,
Fitzgerald gave the order to take the Pendleton back to sea. They would ride out the
storm until it became possible to approach
land safely.
The Situation Worsens
As the hours wore on, the storm only
increased. By midnight, the Pendleton found
itself in a gale with arctic winds blowing in
every direction. Even venturing onto the
exposed deck had become perilous. The
waves had now reached the height of small
buildings. The ship was being pushed by
the wind into the ocean just east of Cape
Cod. Still, Captain Fitzgerald remained
calm. The ship was riding well despite the
harsh weather conditions, and they had no
reason to fear for their safety.
That would soon change.
At 5:30 AM, a thunderous roar echoed
throughout the ship. The crew suddenly
felt the massive tanker rising out of the
sea. This was followed by a shudder and
then a loud crash as the Pendleton nosed
down moments later. The slumbering crew
members were awakened to find themselves in darkness as the ship’s power cut
out.
All was confusion as the men tried to get
their bearings. Eighteen-year-old Charles
Bridges ran to the catwalk to find out what
had happened. What he saw shocked him.
As he later described:
I shone the flashlight on the steel
floor of the catwalk and quickly followed
it amidships. The waves were enormous,
and their spray was whipping across the
deck, mingling with the cold sleet falling.
Then I stopped in my tracks because the
catwalk floor disappeared, and I realized
just two more steps and I’d drop straight
down into the ocean.
other officers all had their quarters in the
forward bridge house on the ship’s bow. Now
they were separated and getting further
apart with every passing moment. Suddenly,
the seamen felt a flicker of hope. The bow
appeared to be getting nearer, but their hope
was premature. The bow drifted against the
stern, only to be pulled away again, drifting
into the distance like an apparition. The
men on the stern were on their own with no
leader.
One man found himself quickly filling
that position. Chief Engineer Sybert, 33,
soon found himself in charge. As the highestranking member now on board, the crew
looked to him for guidance. The responsibility was a heavy one. With no prior
leadership experience, he found himself in
The tanker had split into two.
Charles Bridges wheeled around and
scurried back to the mess deck where his
colleagues were waiting, shouting “We’re
in trouble! The ship has broke in
two!” Pandemonium broke out as
the crew tried to make sense of
what he was saying. As they were
pounded by blasts of freezing sea
spray, the men could make out
through the haze that the ship’s
bow was receding away from the
ship.
On the bow, they soon realized,
was almost every member of the
ship’s command staff. Captain
Fitzgerald, the chief mate, and Chatham Coast Guard Station.
The bow of the SS Pendleton,
after splitting from its stern.
charge of a crew of 31 in a situation that is
every seaman’s worst nightmare.
Immediately, Sybert ordered all watertight doors closed. With waves reaching over
50 feet, the deck had been flooded and the
immediate priority was to limit the damage
caused. He then assigned watch details with
lookouts at both ends of the ship.
The two parts of the ship continued to
drift apart. The stern section, containing
the crew, was carried by strong waves down
Cape Cod. The bow section, with the captain
and seven other officers, was on a nearly
identical path, but higher up and further
offshore. Their chances were dismal. They
were stranded at sea with no way of calling
for help. When the ship split in two, all the
power had cut out in the bow, leaving them
without heat and light. The radio room was
in the bow but had been rendered useless
by the lack of power. Meanwhile, the stern
had retained electricity but without a radio
room, the sailors had no way of signaling for
assistance.
The situation had escalated so swiftly
that no one had time to send out an SOS
while the ship was still intact. Now it looked
as though the ship was doomed.
The Fort Mercer
The Pendleton was not the only ship
caught at sea on that stormy night. Unbelievably, another T2 tanker called the Fort
After the split, the stern section of the Fort Mercer
narrowly escaped being run down by the bow, which
was being driven toward it by hurricane-force winds.
Mercer had also set sail mid-February. It was
currently locked in its own battle off the
coast of Cape Cod.
The 503-foot oil tanker was 30 miles
southeast of Chatham. Its captain, Frederick
Paetzel, had guided the ship safely until this
point, and he was unfazed by the stormy
seas. The nor’easter, however, showed no
signs of weakening. Instead it seemed to
be intensifying with each passing hour.
Enormous 50-foot waves assailed the ship,
causing it to pitch and rock. The deck was
slick with sea spray, and snow attacked the
crew from all sides.
At 8:00 AM, Captain Paetzel heard a
sharp crack from the belly of the ship. No
one could see what had happened, and they
hoped it was insignificant. Soon, however,
the crew saw oil spewing into the ocean
from the starboard side of the Mercer. The
truth hit them with a sickening thud—the
hull of the ship had cracked.
Wasting no time, the captain slowed the
speed of the ship by a third and positioned
the vessel so the waves were on the port
side, to stop the fracture from growing. He
then radioed the Coast Guard for assistance,
reporting the fracture and the fact that the
ship’s oily cargo was leaking into the sea.
After that, Paetzel and his crew could only
pray that rescue would arrive in time.
•
The Pendleton, a sinking ship.
Radio operator Len Whitmore was
aboard the Coast Guard cutter Eastwind
when he heard a strong SOS. It was the
Fort Mercer. Whitmore was alarmed. The
distress call had come out of the blue. He
quickly alerted the Coast Guard regional
communications station. He then went to
work trying to get the ship’s position and
assess the danger. The tanker’s radio operator reported there was a crack in the hull
and gave their approximate position. Now
that they had the ship’s bearings, the next
step was obvious: The Eastwind would go to
her rescue.
But Whitmore had a problem. The Eastwind was quite a distance from the tanker,
The Fort Mercer.
The coast guard vessel Eastwind.
so it would take several hours to reach them.
This was besides the fact that the wind was
blowing wildly, half his crew was seasick, and
the trip could prove as dangerous to them
as it had been to the Mercer. But a distress
call was a distress call, and Whitmore was
determined to set out for the floundering
ship despite the 150-mile distance.
Eastwind was not the only rescue
launched in response to the Mercer’s call.
In Provincetown, Massachusetts, a cutter
called Yakutat was dispatched to the scene,
as was the McCulloch out of Boston. Other
cutters—including the Acushnet in Portland,
Maine—were put on alert. A military sea
transportation
service vessel
called Short Splice also went to
ZMAN • Adar II 5782 | 33
the tanker’s aid. But none of them could go
faster than a sluggish three knots due to the
towering waves and gale force wind.
Help was on the way, but would it arrive
in time?
Disaster Strikes
on the Mercer
On board the Fort Mercer, conditions
were getting worse. The waves had now
reached 68 feet high and oil was spilling out
at a still faster rate. At 10:00 AM, the Boston
Globe was able to make a shore to ship telephone connection with the captain. Paetzel
described the conditions as “very rough” but
said that the ship “did not appear to be in
any immediate danger.”
At 10:30 AM, another tremendous crack
was heard, and the ship lurched frighteningly. Paetzel immediately sent a message to the
Coast Guard saying the situation appeared to
be worsening. A sharp chill coursed through
the normally unshakeable captain. Was this
the beginning of the end? The stress on the
ship was now building with waves attacking
from all angles, intensifying the pressure on
her weakened hull and crew.
A long hour went by without incident.
Then at 11:40 AM, a third loud report was
heard as more metal cracked. Paetzel, now
apprehensive, sent an SOS at 11:48 with the
message “Our hull is splitting.” The time for
optimism had passed. It was clear to the
captain they would be in big trouble if help
didn’t arrive soon. But even he couldn’t have
imagined just how big the trouble would be.
A couple minutes later, the crew
suddenly found themselves flung to the deck
by the force of a massive wave hitting the
ship. When they got to their feet, they were
stunned at the sight that met them: The
vessel had split into two! Crew member Alanson Winn said that when the final crack and
split occurred it was so loud and violent, he
thought the ship had been rammed. “Then
she lifted up out of the water like an elevator,” he described. “She gave two jumps. And
when she’d done that, she tore away.”
34 | ZMAN • March 2022
Daniel Cluff, Chatham Coast Guard commander.
The tanker was now in two pieces, drifting away from each other. Captain Paetzel
was stranded on the bow with eight other
men. The stern held 34 crew members.
The bow was tossed wildly around by
the seas with the men on it fearing for their
lives. The lifeboats had been washed away
when the boat split. Even more devastating
was the loss of power in the radio room. The
Coast Guard could no longer contact Paetzel.
The stern of the ship with the bulk of the
crew appeared to be in better shape, but
neither half could be confident of survival.
The arrival of a rescue team was their only
hope.
The Pendleton
is discovered
Meanwhile, at the Chatham Coast Guard
station, the rescue effort was being mobilized. In addition to the vessels that were
already dispatched, planes, motor lifeboats,
and an additional cutter were on their way.
Station Commander Cluff was standing in
Chatham’s watchtower when he noticed
something surprising on the radar screen.
Two strange objects had been picked up
five miles offshore from Chatham, nowhere
near where the Mercer’s position had been
reported. Was this a technical glitch or was
something else going on?
Cluff redirected one of the planes,
whose pilot had been flying to the Mercer,
to identify the object. The pilot, perplexed
by the order, nevertheless turned his plane
west. He flew at a low altitude, and soon
identified a landmark – the Pollock Rip lightship. Then he gaped in amazement. Not far
from the lightship was a broken ship’s bow.
This couldn’t be the bow of the Mercer as
it couldn’t have drifted that far. Flying still
lower, he made out the words painted on the
bow: The Pendleton.
The Coast Guard was stunned by the
news. A second vessel had split into two
in the same waters? It was almost beyond
belief. A rescue team had already been sent
out for the Mercer. Now the remaining Coast
Guard members would have to be mobilized
and sent out to assist the Pendleton.
•
they arrived at Nauset Beach. Normally this
was a vantage point to scan miles of shoreline. Unfortunately, the shoreline had all but
disappeared due to the thick snow. After
a few moments, the snow abated briefly
and the men were able to spot a gray hulk.
It was half of a ship, drifting south toward
Chatham. There was no way the truck could
catch her now.
The Coast Guard issued a directive to all
ships that were actively involved in the Fort
Mercer rescue operation. The alert was classified operational immediate and was printed
in bold type:
DEFINITE INDICATION
THAT
TANKER PENDLETON HAS BROKEN IN
TWO—STERN SECTION IN BREAKERS
OFF CHATHAM—BOW SECTION DRIFTING NEAR POLLOCK RIP LV—NO PRIOR
INDICATION REGARDING CASUALTY
TO PENDLETON—PENDLETON DUE
IN BOSTON YESTERDAY AND NOT
ARRIVED—THIS IN ADDITION TO FORT
MERCER.
Rescue Mission
Bernie Webber had spent a busy day
helping fishermen moor their boats. It
It was almost evening when Bernie
was hard work tugging the boats in the
Webber and his crew finally returned to HQ
bone-chilling cold and blinding snow, but
in their truck. Entering Chatham Station,
the work was essential if there were to be
they found Cluff, their commanding officer,
any survivors. Now, he and his crew were
pacing the floor. When they entered, he
looking forward to a change of clothes and
wheeled around. “Webber,” he said, “pick
a hot meal. But this was not to
be. As the tired men paused on
the Chatham fishing pier, a Coast
Guard truck drew up alongside
them. “Get over to Orleans and
Nauset Beach!” the driver yelled.
“There’s a shipwreck offshore
and they need help.” Webber and his crew were
instructed to join the Nauset
Station crew in their amphibious
vehicle to try to locate the tanker
and give aid if possible. The four
of them drove up the unplowed
icy roads. After a long drive, made
longer by the difficult conditions, Coasties load a Coast Guard DUKW amphibious vehicle.
ZMAN • Adar II 5782 | 35
yourself a crew. You got to take the 36500
out over the bar and assist that ship, ya
hear?”
Webber’s heart sank. Take a crew out
in one of the most perilous coasts of New
England, during the worst storm they had
seen in years? Chatham Bar was hazardous,
with ocean currents that could splinter boats
in a matter of seconds. He was being asked
to take a boat into waters that were terrifying even in good weather. But no matter
how dangerous the task might be, Webber
knew he was required to do it. Against every
instinct in his body, he found himself saying
hoarsely, “Yes sir, I’ll get ready.” In his mind,
words were ringing: You have to go out, but
you do not have to come back. This was the
unofficial motto of the Coast Guard; words
that every Coast Guard member know to be
true. However dangerous the mission, you
always did it.
Now, Webber needed men brave enough
to follow his lead. Who would volunteer to
join him on such a risky mission? If it came
to it, he would have to order men to join
him. But that was something he preferred to
avoid.
His friend, Richard Livesey, was the
first to volunteer. An engineer named
Andy Fitzgerald was next. Only one more
was needed. A guest at the
station named Ervin Maske
was the fourth to throw
his lot in with Webber.
The oldest of the four was
Webber at only 24. Young as
they were, they bravely set
aside their fears and headed
into the blizzard.
Into the Storm
Webber started the motor and they set
off. Already their feet felt like blocks of ice
inside their rubber overshoes. Reaching the
end of the harbor, they could hear the waves
pounding relentlessly over Chatham Bar,
and see the yellowish white foam thrown
high into the air. This is not going to be a good
trip, Richard Livesey thought to himself.
The sound grew louder as they got closer.
Webber’s hands tightened on the controls.
The waves seemed invincible as they roared
up, towering above the little boat. The little
boat, Webber suddenly realized, was all
that stood between them and the churning
maelstrom of fury that was the sea.
Then they hit the bar and the world
around them exploded.
A mountain of brutally cold water hit the
boat and the 60-foot wave carried it high into
the air. They landed back in the water with a
breathtaking jolt, only to be picked up again
by another powerful wave. Knocked to the
deck and helpless, they could only close their
eyes and pray for the nightmare to be over
as their boat was tossed around mercilessly.
Then the windshield shattered, sending
shards of glass flying in every direction.
Webber pulled himself up and fought
frantically to get the boat under control.
Using every ounce of strength, he struggled
The air was so thick
with snow, the crew could
barely see ahead of them.
Trudging through the snow,
they finally reached their
lifeboat, a small but solid
CG36500. Would it be solid The brave crew (left to right): Bernie Webber,
Andy Fitzgerald, Richard Livesey, and Irving Maske.
enough for their task?
36 | ZMAN • March 2022
to push the boat through the waves that
were hitting it like a concrete wall.
And then, blessedly, somehow they were
through. Webber had succeeded in getting
the vessel across Chatham Bar, and they had
escaped the crushing waves with their boat
still sea-worthy. But the men realized that
one sound was missing among the noises
that surrounded them: It was the hum of the
motor. Their engine had stopped.
The Fort Mercer
Rescue Attempt
While Bernie Webber and his crew were
being pounded at Chatham Bar, the Eastwind
was ploughing steadily on toward the Fort
Mercer. Tensions were high. The crew had
heard that previous rescue attempts had
been unsuccessful, which meant timing was
everything. Would the boat stay afloat until
they arrived?
By 6:30 PM the cutter Yakutat arrived
at the Mercer’s bow. Darkness had fallen.
Captain Naab of the Yakutat tried to position
the cutter near the Mercer, but it was difficult work. As they approached, the Mercer
surged toward them, then back, rising and
falling with the waves. The ship’s movement
was unpredictable, putting them at risk of a
collision in which they would all be killed.
Naab decided to edge the cutter away and
wait for the storm to subside.
The Pendleton Bow
Rescue Attempt
Meanwhile, another lifeboat—skippered
by Donald Bangs—was on its way toward
Pendleton. Their journey had been perilous,
with Bangs and his crew barely surviving
the first few minutes of the trip. On route
to the Mercer, Bangs was suddenly ordered
to turn his crew around and head toward
Chatham, where two large objects had been
spotted.
Weary and frustrated, Bangs obeyed
and made a U-turn. Spray from the waves
US Coast Guard motor lifeboat CG36500.
The US Coast Guard cutter Yakutat.
drenched the men while snow pelted them
from above. Between the sky and the sea the
journey was extremely difficult. With frozen
fingers and numb toes, they kept going
toward their new destination. At this point
they learned they were heading toward the
stranded Pendleton.
Soon they arrived at the bow of the
Pendleton, an eerie hulk shrouded in darkness. Bangs blasted his horn, but no one
appeared on the deck. Listening for the cries
of trapped sailors, the crew heard only the
wind, howling above the crashing waves
of the ocean. From the ship there was only
silence. Where was the crew? The Pendleton
appeared to be a ghost ship, devoid of life.
And so, the freezing crew turned their
vessel toward Chatham, thinking they could
help locate the Pendleton’s stern.
They were more than halfway
ZMAN • Adar II 5782 | 37
to the stern when the radio crackled. The
captain of the cutter McCulloch shouted that
he was at the bow of the Pendleton, and they
had just seen a light flicker—there were
survivors on board after all!
For the third time that stormy evening
Bangs altered course, heading as fast as
he could go toward the bow. This time he
moved even closer, the waves carrying his
small vessel upward so that he was almost
eye-level with the deck of the ship. They saw
a lone man on the starboard wing of the ship.
As Bangs recalled:
He was hollering at us but we couldn’t
hear a word. We went in close and
could see that he was standing on the
wing of the bridge. The wind and waves
were pitching the ship at tremendous
degrees. We tried to get a line aboard but
had to give up. The man was then seen to
jump or fall into the sea. He came to the
surface floating about a boat length and a
half from us. Just as we were about to fish
him out of the water, the biggest wave of
the night broke over our deck.
before Bangs made his attempt to rescue the
man who jumped.
Mercer Bow Rescue
Attempts Continue
Meanwhile, on the Mercer bow, Captain
Paetzel and crew were becoming increasingly desperate. The front of the bow section
was sticking out of the water, but the back
of it, where they were stuck, was sinking
deeper into the sea with every passing
minute. Soon they would be submerged.
Just before midnight, they decided to
take a risk. They would move to the forecastle room in the front of the bow, where
they hoped to escape the rising water and
find signaling equipment. This meant going
out onto the exposed deck, which was slippery with snow and seawater. The crew got
to work, taking signal flags and tying them
together to create a line, which they lowered
onto the deck. One by one the men started
out, lowering themselves down the flag line
and taking the most harrowing steps of
their lives as they headed forward on the icy
catwalk.
The ship pitched and rolled, and the
men ran toward the forecastle as seething white water surged around their feet.
Bangs used his searchlight to try to find
the man in the water. Maybe, just maybe,
they would be able to save him. In the light,
Bangs spotted him a few yards away floating on his back in the water. He
drove the boat closer but the sea
engulfed him, and he was swept
away. Bangs and crew searched
and circled throughout the
night, but they did not see the
man again. Incredibly, the four
frozen Coast Guard men continued searching for survivors for
several more hours, spending a
total of 22 hours in the stormtossed seas.
None of the other seven
men known to be on the Pendleton bow, including Captain
Fitzgerald, ever appeared at the
railing, fired a flare, or flashed a
light. It was assumed that they A photo taken by the Coast Guard of the
had been swept off the ship long SS Pendleton, grounded seven miles off Chatham.
38 | ZMAN • March 2022
Radio operator John O’Reilly—who had
been transmitting to Len Whitmore earlier
that morning—slipped, lost his footing, and
was swept overboard, disappearing into
the churning abyss. The other eight crew
members made it safely to the forecastle,
including Captain Paetzel, who had been
caught in his slippers when the tanker split,
and had to make the crossing barefoot.
Realizing how desperate the men were,
Naab decided to launch another rescue
attempt. He and his men tied several rafts in
a row and dropped them overboard, where
the wind would carry them toward the men.
On the bow, the sailors watched the rafts
coming toward them. It was decision time.
They could stay on the ship and risk it sinking, trapping them in freezing water below.
Or they could jump, but what if they missed
the raft? The freezing ocean made swimming almost impossible.
Three of the crew decided that jumping
for the rafts would be their best chance of
survival. One by one they threw themselves
overboard – and missed the rafts. Flailing
desperately in the freezing cold water, the
men tried to reach the rafts and failed. From
the Yakutat, the crew watched helplessly
as the mountainous sea subsumed them. A
fourth crewmen, perhaps not seeing what
had befallen his fellows, leapt from the
Mercer towards the Yakutat. He also missed
the boat and was swept away. Naab, not
wanting to witness any more drowning,
backed the cutter away. Later, Naab would
say that watching the crewmen jump from
the ship and be taken by the sea was the
worst hour of his life.
There were now only four men remaining
on the fractured bow of the Mercer. Would
they fare any better than their colleagues,
who had sadly jumped to their deaths? Time
would tell.
Help for Pendleton Stern
The men aboard the stern of the Pendleton had now been adrift for nearly 14
hours. Although they had enough food and
water, they were running low on hope.
Survivors on board the Fort Mercer were rescued by
rafts and surfboats from the cutter Yakutat after five of
the nine men trapped in the bow were lost at the sea.
Chief Engineer Ray Sybert was the de facto
captain of the stern, and the responsibility
weighed heavily on him. He knew there was
little chance they would make it out alive.
But he did what he could to increase their
chances.
Sybert ordered the crew to turn the
screws astern to keep the weak bulkheads
on the broken end out of the violent weather
as much as possible and keep the crippled
vessel as far offshore as they could. They
also rigged up an around-the-clock whistle
watch, since the stern was able to maintain
some of its power. The survivors blew the
whistle for twelve straight hours without a
response. Any hope they’d had was steadily
fading.
•
Meanwhile on the CG36500, Bernie
Webber and his crew knew their only hope
was to get the lifeboat’s engine restarted.
Without it, the boat would be at the mercy
of every wave. Andy Fitzgerald, the engineer, began making his way to
the engine compartment. The
ZMAN • Adar II 5782 | 39
lifeboat was pitching and rearing violently,
and he clutched the rails until his knuckles
turned white, inching his way across.
Eventually he made it inside the small
compartment that housed the boat’s engine.
Suddenly, a heavy wave slammed into the
lifeboat, bouncing Fitzgerald around the
engine room. He cried out as he was thrown
against the red-hot engine. But despite the
burns and bruises, Fitzgerald managed to
stay focused on the task, holding down the
priming lever so the gasoline could flow to
the engine. The crew breathed in relief as
the engine sputtered and then kicked back
to life.
Wasting no time, Webber pushed the
throttle down and headed into the storm.
The compass had been torn from its mount
by crushing waves, leaving them with no
effective way of navigating. Finding the
ship under these conditions would take
incredible luck as well as fortitude. The
waves were higher than ever now, 60 to 70
feet, pounding against the small vessel and
drenching its passengers. Still they forged
onward as wave after wave crashed down
on the little boat.
They knew the odds. All four men were
thinking of their families, praying that
this would not be their last night on earth.
Webber peered through the broken windshield into the inky-black darkness beyond.
Suddenly, his heart gave a leap.
“Andy!” he yelled, “Go to the bow and
turn on the searchlight!” Fitzgerald followed
the order and cast a small beam of light
ahead. They saw a huge object less than 50
feet away. Had Webber gone any further he
would have collided with it. The steel hulk
was dark and ominous, with no apparent
signs of life. My God, we’re too late, Webber
thought to himself. It’s a ghost ship.
•
On board the Pendleton, the men sat helplessly, waiting for help to arrive. The crew
members had been standing watch all day,
but the seas beyond the fractured ship were
devoid of any activity. Suddenly, the man on
40 | ZMAN • March 2022
watch spotted something bobbing up and
down in the rolling seas. It was a small light,
heading their way. “It was the most glorious
sight,” a crew member later recalled, “this
single light bobbing up and down in the rolling seas. No one cheered. We just watched
spellbound.”
Pendleton Stern
Rescue attempt
On the CG36500, Webber was becoming
convinced that their perilous trip had been
in vain. He looked up at the Pendleton, with
its twisted and torn rails. He saw the gaping
hole that was once the bow, and the empty
deck, feeling his heart drop. Had he risked
the lives of his crew for nothing? An eerie
silence fell on the crew as they gazed at the
wreckage.
As the ship rose and fell with the waves,
Webber steered the lifeboat around to the
stern section of the boat. The crew was now
startled by something else. High up on the
stern of the ship twinkled a string of lights—
the ship had not totally lost power after all.
As they stared they could see something
else. Amid the glow of the lights was a tiny
figure! A man was waving his arms wildly.
They watched as more crew members joined
him. Within a minute, there were more than
two dozen men lining the rails, looking
down at the diminutive lifeboat with hope in
their eyes.
Looking up at the men on the stern,
Webber felt a surge of relief that so many
had survived the horrifying crash. This was
followed, however, by apprehension. How
would they manage to get them all back to
safety? The CG36500 was only designed to
carry a maximum of 12 people. The responsibility hit Webber like a tidal wave.
Webber’s first thought was to get his
men onto the ruptured stern. Fractured as
it was, the Pendleton appeared sturdier than
the little lifeboat, which was being tossed
every which way by the turbulent seas and
could offer them a better chance of survival.
But before he had a chance to relay his plan
(Right to left) Webber stands with Livesey and Fitzgerald.
to the crew, the men on the stern had taken
matters into their own hands.
Webber saw a rope ladder with wooden
steps, commonly known as a Jacob’s ladder,
stream down the side of the Pendleton. The
stranded seamen began coming down the
ladder as quickly as they could. The first
man down the ladder jumped and landed
with a crash onto the CG36500. The boat
rocked dangerously but stayed upright. The
rope ladder swayed perilously as the Pendleton rocked in the sea. The men clung on
desperately, their shouts echoing above the
pounding waves.
Webber drove the lifeboat even closer,
trying to maneuver it so that each man
would land on the boat and not in the freezing cold waters. But this was an impossible
task. More than one of the Pendleton crew
leaped for the safety of the lifeboat only to
find themselves swimming for their lives
in the frigid sea. The CG36500 was fitted
with a safety rope, and the desperately
thrashing seamen caught hold of it one by
one and held on for dear life. On the boat,
Fitzgerald, Maske, and Livesey grabbed the
waterlogged men and hoisted them aboard.
Once they were safely aboard, the lifeboat
crew ushered them inside the dry cabin, but
that small space was filling up quickly.
With the weight of its added passengers,
the CG36500 was taking in too much water.
As captain, Webber now had to make a lifeand-death decision. Did he stop now, taking
those already aboard back to shore? Or
would they keep going, overloading the boat
beyond what anyone could imagine. Webber
decided it was all or nothing. “We would
all live or we would all die,” he commented
later. And so they continued to take survivors aboard, squeezing them wherever they
could. Eventually there were 31 survivors
aboard a vessel designed for 12.
By this time, there were only two men
left on the Pendleton. The first was Raymond
Sybert, who, as de facto captain of the stern,
would wait until all his men were off safely
before leaving himself. The other was George
Myers, teasingly nicknamed “Tiny” due to
his 300-pound frame. Fitzgerald kept his
flashlight aimed at Myers as he slowly made
his way down the ladder. By now the swells
surrounding the ship had become even more
violent, making the lifeboat a nightmare to
control.
When he was halfway down the ladder,
disaster struck. Myers slipped and fell into
the ocean. He resurfaced seconds later, and
the lifeboat crew frantically tried to pull him
aboard. Myers grabbed hold of the line, and
Richard Livesey leaned over to pull him in,
to no avail. Myers was too heavy and Livesey
nearly fell into the water trying to save him.
Maske and Fitzgerald dashed over to
help, but as they did so a huge wave swallowed Myers and he disappeared. A gasp
of horror rose from the lifeboat as the men
watched their friend being consumed by the
sea. Webber put the CG36500 in reverse,
circling around to find him, their searchlight
The CG36500 lifeboat, now restored.
ZMAN • Adar II 5782 | 41
trained on the water. They finally caught
sight of Myers, who was now drifting perilously close to the ship’s sharp propellor
blades.
Webber knew he’d have only one chance
to save the man. He steered slowly and carefully toward Myers. Suddenly, the crew felt
themselves lifted into the air as a huge wave
picked up the lifeboat and tossed it toward
the Pendleton. Webber fought to steer the
ship away, but it was too late. The out-ofcontrol lifeboat surged ahead toward Myers.
A second later, the crew felt the impact of
a thunderous collision as the bow of the
lifeboat rammed Myers, driving his broken
body into the side of the ship.
Homebound
The crew was subdued as Webber turned
the CG36500 around and prepared to head
home. Although they had managed to save
all but one, the tragic death weighed heavily on all of them. And their own survival
was not yet guaranteed. Webber knew that
with the boat so heavily overloaded and no
compass to guide them, making it back to
shore would be a difficult task.
Indeed, the journey back was not easy.
“The worst time for me was when we were
going back in,” Richard Livesey recalled.
They were in churning seas, the CG36500
weighed down by its human cargo as powerful waves crashed over its crowded deck.
Each wave doused the exhausted sailors in
a torrent of ice-cold water. The lifeboat was
riding so low, it was starting to feel as though
they were in a submarine. If she doesn’t come
up a bit more, I’m gonna drown right here in
the boat, Livesey thought to himself.
As the lifeboat motored on, the sea began
to change. The waves were not as heavy.
They must be in shallower waters. Suddenly,
Webber noticed a flashing red light in the
distance. Was it a buoy? The light became
clearer. Soon the crew realized it was
coming from atop the buoy inside Chatham
Bar, leading to the entrance of Old Harbor.
They still had to make it over Chatham
Bar, where they had nearly been killed
hours earlier. This time, though, they would
be going with the ocean current. As they
approached, the crew noticed that the
crashing of the waves seemed to be quieter
than before. Webber turned up the throttle,
punched the boat through the foam, and
they were through! They had done it. He
radioed the Chatham Lifeboat Station and
told the operator his position. The stunned
radio operator could hardly believe his ears
and immediately sent a dispatch to the other
Coast Guard vessels:
CG36500 HAS 32 MEN ABOARD FROM
THE STERN SECTION ALL EXCEPT ONE
MAN WHO IS ON THE WATER THAT
THEY CANNOT GET. NO OTHER MEN ARE
MISSING THAT THEY KNOW OF. THERE
The stern of the Pendleton, grounded. The
Jacob’s ladder is visible down its side.
A newspaper article from 1952.
SHOULD BE ABOUT SIX MEN ON THE
BOW SECTION.
As he pulled the bow up to Chatham
dock, where hundreds of spectators greeted
him, Webber felt a wave of relief course
through him. He had done it! He had made it
safely back home with his passengers intact.
One by one, townspeople pulled the shaken
survivors out of the boat. Finally only Bernie
Webber was left, standing quietly at the
boat’s stern. Terrifying images of the last
few hours filled his mind as he remembered
the bravery of his crew and the tragedy of
Myers’ death. The townspeople watched in
silence as he sobbed openly by the cockpit of
his lifeboat. A boat with which he had saved
so many lives.
Mercer Bow
Rescue Attempt #3
While the townspeople of Cheltenham
were celebrating the safe return of 32
sailors from the Pendleton, the Mercer bow
crew was still aboard and huddled together
for warmth. The fate of their colleagues
who had jumped from the ship was fresh in
their mind, and all they could do was wait
in the darkness, hoping that in the morning
their chances at making it off the ship safely
would increase.
Captain Naab of the Yakutat felt the
desperation of the men keenly. As he
glimpsed the first light of dawn from the
east, he knew it was time to launch a rescue.
He could not risk sending over rafts again,
not after what had transpired the previous
night. Instead, he decided to take a risk. He
would launch the cutter’s 26-foot lifeboat
with five of his own crew, who would then be
able to help the men inside. It was a gamble.
Not only would the survivors of the Mercer
be at risk, but also the lives of his crew in the
lifeboat. But he knew that the Mercer could
capsize at any time. They could not afford
to wait a moment longer. And so the lifeboat
was launched.
On the Mercer bow, an argument broke
out over who would jump first. Captain Paetzel said he should be the last to leave, but his
crew argued that as he was deteriorating
the fastest with hypothermia, he should go
first. The four survivors were conscious of
the fact that the lifeboat might not hold all
of them, nor did they know whether the lifeboat crew would be able to pluck them out of
the sea. But they all felt it was a chance they
would have to take. The men told Paetzel
that if he didn’t jump for safety, they would
throw him over.
Standing on the edge of the Mercer’s bow,
Paetzel gazed at the churning waters below.
From that height, the wooden lifeboat looked
little more than a toy, no match for the
towering waves tossing it from side to side.
Was he jumping to his death? Pushing this
thought to the back of his mind, Paetzel took
a deep breath and jumped. Seconds later he
hit the water, the impact driving the breath
from his lungs. He was several feet from the
lifeboat, and the men aboard did their best
to maneuver alongside him. He plunged
completely underwater before the lifeboat
crew pulled him, gasping and spluttering,
to the surface. Bobbing in the frigid seas, he
felt waves of pain course through his body
before the cold numbed his limbs.
The lifeboat crew did their best to draw
near enough to pull him aboard without
risking collision. One of the men stretched
out his arm and pulled, but the waterlogged
Paetzel was far too heavy, and he felt himself
tilting. Two more Coast Guard members
joined the effort, and together, panting and
heaving, they succeeded in pulling Paetzel on board the lifeboat.
ZMAN • Adar II 5782 | 43
Now that the captain was aboard, it was
WILL ATTEMPT RESCUE BY SHOT LINE
time for round two. On the Mercer bow a
AND RUBBER RAFT.
second sailor named Turner readied himself
for his chance at rescue. The men motioned
to him and he leapt with all the strength he
possessed toward the lifeboat. As he jumped,
It was time for Naab to attempt another
a wave lifted the lifeboat and sent it hurtling
rescue by raft. A line would be shot to the
toward Turner. They only had a moment,
Mercer’s bow with a rubber raft tied to the
but as the Coasties passed by they grabbed
end of it. The survivors would pull on the
Turner and held onto him. As they pulled
line to bring the raft toward them, secure
him aboard, waves slammed
the lifeboat into the Mercer’s
hull.
The shock of the impact
almost knocked the Coast
Guard men off the boat, but
they managed to pull Turner
aboard. But the lifeboat was
in a bad state. Its side had
been crushed by the collision, and it was filling with
water fast. The lifeboat was
sinking.
The crew would have to
abort the rescue or forfeit
their lives. That didn’t make
the decision any easier. With
tears in their eyes, the Coast The CG36500 returns with survivors safely on board.
Guard crew turned their boat
away from the Mercer, the
two remaining men on their
bow watching their chance at
rescue disappearing. Slowly,
they navigated toward the
Yakutat, and everyone was
hoisted safely aboard.
On board the Yakutat, the
radioman sent the following
message to the Coast Guard
Communications Centre:
Try, Try, Try Again
TWO
SURVIVORS,
FREDERICK C. PAETZEL
(MASTER) AND EDWARD
E. TURNER (PURSER)
RESCUED
BY
BOAT.
WEATHER CONDITIONS
WORSENING.
NOT
ABLE TO USE BOAT FOR
REMAINDER TWO MEN. Survivors of the Pendleton prepare to leave the lifeboat.
44 | ZMAN • March 2022
their end of the line to the Mercer, and climb
on. Once they were safely aboard, they would
cut the line securing them to the Mercer, and
the Yakutat crew would tug on the line and
bring them to safety.
The line was fired and the raft launched
as planned. On the Mercer, the men watched
with hopeful eyes as they were offered
another chance at rescue. They secured
their end of the line and prepared to climb
over the rail. One of the men mustered his
courage and slid down the line, landing in
the water about 50 yards from the raft. He
managed to claw his way over to the raft.
But when he tried to pull himself aboard,
the raft capsized, leaving him thrashing in
the icy water. Immediately, the second man,
perhaps hoping to help him, slid down the
line to the raft. The crew aboard the Yakutat
watched anxiously as the two struggled in
the sea, trying desperately to make it aboard
the raft before their limbs were rendered
useless by hypothermia. It was touch and go
at first, but at last they managed to flip the
raft upright and clamber aboard.
Now they faced a new hurdle. The raft
was still attached to the Mercer, but the
men’s fingers were so numb there was no
way they could handle a knife to sever the
line. This meant the raft could not be pulled
in by the cutter. Had they come this far only
to die anyway? On the Yakutat, Naab thought
of a solution. He would back the cutter away
at full speed and hope the line would sever,
allowing them to pull the raft to safety. But
it was a last resort. If the wrong line broke,
the men would be cast into the frigid sea to
their deaths.
Naab reversed the ship. As the line tightened, the crew drew a collective breath. A
second passed.
Then a cheer rose from the men on the
cutter. The line between the raft and the
Mercer bow had parted! They quickly pulled
the raft toward the Yakutat, lowering ropes
and a net. The crew climbed down into the
netting and went to work tying lines around
the survivors in order to pull them aboard.
Shaking and traumatized, the two men were
safely lifted into the cutter.
A tired Webber and Maske stand aboard the CG36500.
Crewmen of the Yakutat pull in a rubber life raft with the last two
survivors from the bow section of the broken tanker SS Fort Mercer.
Seconds later, one of the crew pointed
towards the Mercer and shouted “Look!
There she goes!” They watched as the bow
of the Mercer reared up toward the sky and
then pivoted, falling back into the sea, having
completely capsized. Only a small portion of
its keel remained above the surface. Exactly
17 minutes had passed since the last crew
member had leaped from the ship.
ZMAN • Adar II 5782 | 45
Captain Naab then drove the cutter
full steam to Portland, Maine where the
survivors would be hospitalized. The four
of them were suffering from frostbite and
hypothermia, and Captain Paetzel was in the
worst shape with pneumonia. But against all
odds, they were alive.
Help Arrives
for Mercer Stern
One half of the Mercer lay at the bottom
of the sea. But the other half, the stern, was
still afloat. Because the men still had power,
the ship was heated and lit. Unfortunately
they didn’t have any way to communicate
with the Coast Guard.
Finally, the Eastwind, led by Captain
Peterson, arrived and pulled up alongside the
Fort Mercer. Eastwind established communication by shooting a line across with the
radio sealed in a watertight container. The
men on the Mercer informed Peterson that
some of them wanted to stay on the fractured ship for now while others wanted to
leave immediately. Peterson responded that
he would send them a rubber raft.
His crew fired a line over to the Mercer
with the raft tied to it. When the survivors
pulled the raft close , three men immediately
leaped from the stern and scrambled aboard
the raft. But the seas were choppy, and the
A surfboat from the Yakutat carries two survivors
from the Mercer bow—Captain Frederick Paetzel
(far side) and purser Edward Turner—to safety.
Eastwind rolled so much that the raft was
lifted clean out of the water. Then it fell back
down, threatening to loosen the survivors’
grip and send them into the sea.
A cargo net was lowered and three
Coast Guard men volunteered to go with it
to wait until the raft drew close enough for
the survivors to climb aboard. Each time the
lifeboat rolled, the volunteers got dunked,
but still they waited. Finally, the raft drew
alongside, and the Coasties were able to get
the men safely aboard. But Captain Peterson
had seen enough and called off the rescue
operation. He felt they were pushing their
luck.
At this point, a second cutter called
Acushnet arrived on the scene. John Joseph,
its captain, had seen the risky operation and
decided to take a different approach. Mercer
looked like it was about to sink. He decided
to take the cutter alongside the Mercer so
the survivors could jump directly aboard the
Acushnet.
Captain Joseph maneuvered the vessel
until the two ships were inches apart. It
was a dangerous position to be in—the two
vessels were rolling with the waves and in
danger of a possible collision. The survivors
on deck were paralyzed with indecision,
none of them willing to make the first move.
Coast Guard Lieutenant Mahoney screamed,
“Come on guys, we’ll catch you!” but still
no one moved. Frustrated, Mahoney yelled
A view of the crewmen as they are rescued from the Fort Mercer.
again, “Look, we can’t stay
here all day! Jump!”
This time, one survivor
climbed over the rail. He
paused, waiting for the
Acushnet to rise on the next
wave and then threw himself
forward, landing safely on
deck. His successful leap gave
the others confidence and a
second man jumped, making
it with inches to square. The
third man was not so lucky.
Mistiming his jump, his
feet hit the rail and he fell
backward into the narrow
space between the two ships.
Two Coasties lunged forward The cutter Eastwind cruises around the still-floating stern section of the Fort Mercer.
to catch the man, but his
momentum and weight began to pull them
the Acushnet. They were preparing to make
overboard. Three more Coasties grabbed
another grab when the Mercer rose up and
the sailors and survivor, pulling them all to
threatened to crash onto the cutter. “Full
safety.
speed ahead!” Joseph screamed, and the
Those who remained on the Mercer
Mercer surged forward and out of danger.
were now reluctant to make the jump. Two
Captain Joseph decided to go back for
Coast Guard men acted on their own so
the ones who remained. Once again, they
that when the waves carried the Acushnet
had to coax the survivors to jump from
to the same level as the Mercer, they leaned
one ship to the other. This time, it went
over and physically yanked survivors onto
more smoothly. Altogether, 18 men were
ZMAN • Adar II 5782 | 47
transferred from the Mercer to the Acushnet without a single casualty. As successful
as the rescue was, however, 13 men decided it was safer to remain on the tanker.
Seeing as they could not be convinced,
Captain Joseph set off for Boston with the
18 survivors on board. Arriving in Boston
Harbor, they were greeted by a large
cheering crowd.
The 13 Left
Everyone who had leaped from
the Mercer’s stern had survived, but what
about the 13 who remained? Shortly after the Eastwind arrived in
Boston, tugs were dispatched to look for
the remaining crewmen. By the time they
caught up with it, 48 hours had passed
since the first distress message. The ship
had drifted approximately 40 miles south
of Nantucket. The two tugs each fired a
line to the Mercer, which the crewmen
then secured to the aft end of the stern.
Between them, the tugs carried the
Mercer to safety, arriving in Narraganset
Bay, Newport on Friday morning. All
13 crew members were safe and sound.
In fact, upon boarding the stern, a local
photographer was surprised to see just
how well they had been living when the
men showed him a spotless galley and
invited him to join them for a breakfast of
hotcakes, potatoes, milk, and coffee.
The arrival of the Mercer in Newport
was big news, with photographers, journalists, and well-wishers turning out in
the thousands to witness the Mercer as
it pulled calmly into port. Acushnet crew
member John Mihlbauer happened to be
on the scene that day. “I was shocked,”
Mihlbauer said, “when I was told that tugs
were pulling the Mercer’s stern into port. I
walked down to watch it and I thought, if
this thing is still afloat, why did we go to
all that trouble removing men?” But then
he remembered that the Mercer’s bow had
capsized a mere 20 minutes after the men
had been removed and that the outcome
for the stern could have been the same.
48 | ZMAN • March 2022
Article from the Detroit News on February 19, 1952.
The Detroit News from February 20, 1952.
Boarding the Pendleton
In the days following the disaster,
several attempts were made by the
Chatham Coast Guard crew to board the
bow of the Pendleton, which had been
discovered grounded in waters almost
seven miles off the Chatham coast. But
the storm had not died down completely,
so the rough conditions prevented crew
members from climbing aboard the
unsteady vessel.
Only on February 24, almost a week
after the tanker had broken in two, did
the weather finally break. Several Coast
Guardsmen boarded a lifeboat and drew
alongside the Pendleton. Climbing aboard
was painstaking work with the men
climbing hand over hand up the side of
the ship. As they emerged over the rail
of the ship, the men were gripped by
apprehension. Who knew what horrors
they might find?
They moved gingerly along the railing,
knowing that one false step could take
them plunging into the icy waters. Then
they used flashlights as they entered
the dark underbelly of the ship. Moving
around the ship, now devoid of life, the
crew could only imagine the desperate
scenes that had taken place days earlier.
“It was eerie,” one Coastie recalled,
“because the ship was making all kinds of
rumbling noises, perhaps from when the
seas were hitting the area where the boat
had split.”
Suddenly, the crew made a painful
discovery. Entering one of the ship’s
compartments, their flashlights illuminated an outstretched figure lying on a
paint locker shelf. It was a young man,
clearly dead and covered in newspaper.
It appeared as though the sailor couldn’t
find any blankets (which would have
been kept in the stern) and had covered
himself with newspaper in an attempt
to ward off hypothermia. They found his
driver’s license, which identified him as
25-year-old Herman Gatlin of Greenville,
Mississippi. It was later concluded that
the cause of death was exposure and
shock.
There was no sign of what might have
befallen the other men on board the Pendleton’s bow. Had Captain Fitzgerald and his
fellow officers been swept away by waves?
Were they killed when the ship had broken
in two? There were no clues as to what
happened to them. But the discovery of
the fate of 25-year-old Gatlin highlighted
the fact that if not for the bravery of the
Coasties who had risked their lives in the
storm, the tragedy would have been much
worse.
The Heroes
In the months following the rescue,
Bernie Webber and his crew found
themselves constantly in the limelight,
acclaimed as national heroes. As well as
genuine admiration for their bravery, this
was also due to the fact that America
was at that time firmly entrenched in the
Korean War, and the public needed something to rally around. The men of CG36500
had provided that something, and the US
government had no qualms about using
them as icons to lift America’s spirits.
For Webber, this was more of a burden
then a blessing. He wanted to be at sea,
doing what he did best, not giving speeches
at elegant functions.
Several days after the rescue, Webber
received a phone call. On the line was an
official from Coast Guard headquarters
who congratulated Webber on the rescue,
The stern of the Pendleton, grounded
several miles off the Chatham coast.
and then informed him that he would be
awarded the Gold Lifesaving Medal.
“What about my crew?” Webber asked.
“They will all receive the Silver Lifesaving Medal,” the official replied. This award
was one level down than the gold.
Bernie was outraged. If his crew
couldn’t receive the highest honor of the
Coast Guard, neither would he.
“I think it stinks,” he shouted into the
receiver. “They were there, the same as me,
and did all the heavy rescuing. If they can’t
get the gold then I don’t want it.”
Coast Guard officials gave into his
ultimatum, knowing that the public would
never stand for it. And so all four of the
CG36500 crew members were awarded
the Gold Lifesaving Medal for their rescue
efforts at “extreme peril and risk of life.”
There is no doubt that the honor was richly
deserved.
Conclusion
It could well have been the disaster
of the century. Two ships had split in half
in the same area on the same night. But
thanks to the bravery and ingenuity of the
Coast Guardsmen who risked their lives in
the storm, the story is not one of tragedy
but of rescue. Only four men received the
Gold Lifesaving Medal for their efforts, but
The SS Schenectady as she appeared on the
morning of January 17, 1943, after suddenly and
unexpectedly cracking in half for no apparent reason
while moored at the fitting dock at Swan Island.
The USS Ponganset, a T2 tanker which broke in
half during reactivation on December 9, 1947.
many more demonstrated heroism on
that terrifying February night.
Sidebar
T2 Tankers – A Dubious History
It was no coincidence that the
Mercer and Pendleton—two ships that
met a similar fate—were cut from the
same cloth. Both were T2 tankers,
ships that had already gained notoriety with the nickname “Kaiser’s
coffins.” Constructed and produced in
large quantities during World War II,
these tankers were used to transport
oil and gasoline during the war.
The crew of the CG36500 receive their awards at the treasury building in Washington DC.
The first ship to highlight the
risks inherent in the construction of
the tankers was the Schenectady. On
January 16, 1943, she was moored
at the fitting dock in Swan Island
shortly after completing her trials.
The weather was calm. Suddenly,
without warning, the Schenectady’s
hull cracked almost in half, with the
noise audible for at least a mile. The
cracks reached throughout the ship,
leaving only the bottom plates of the
vessel intact. Coast Guard reports At the 50th anniversary of the rescue, the crew of the CG-36500 sit together:
named faulty welding as the cause of Bernard Webber, Andrew Fitzgerald, Richard Livesey, and Irving Maske.
failure.
Despite the widely publicized SchenectJanuary 9, 1952, and the Pendleton had been
ady fracture, T2 tankers remained in usage
deemed seaworthy.
even after the war was over. The Fort Mercer
Following the ill-fated journey of the
and Pendleton were both constructed under
Pendleton in February 1952, the Coast Guard
the same circumstances as the Schenectady,
held an official inquiry into the cause of the
so perhaps it is not entirely surprising
tragedy. The investigators listened to crew
that they met the same end. Both were
member after crew member of the Pendleton
constructed using “tired iron,” steel that has
as they all testified that the ship’s equipment
been weakened by exposure to sulfur. As
was in poor working order. Most concerning
sturdy as they looked, this fatal flaw meant
were the structural flaws, particularly the
they were vulnerable to any pressure. It was
fact that the fracture of a year earlier had
inevitable that pressure would interfere,
never been repaired. Surprisingly, although
given that they were traveling regularly
the board found fault with the construction
through turbulent waters. In the case of
of the ship, they concluded that “there was
the Pendleton, the news was even worse.
no incompetence, misconduct, unskillfulThe ship had already suffered a three-way
ness, or willful violation of the law or any
fracture a year earlier, in January 1951. This
rule or regulation.” Because of this, no one
fracture had never been repaired. Incredibly,
was held accountable for the disaster that
the ship passed its coast guard inspection on
struck the ship that night.
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| Moshe Holender
ORN
TTO
IN TWO
A ship caught in turbulent waters at sea may not sound like the
most unusual event as there have been many such tragic disasters
in human history. But on one stormy night in 1952, events took
even the most seasoned US Coastguards by surprise. During the
worst blizzard to hit the coast of New England for decades, there
was not just one ship in distress… but two.
• Rivky Blum
Two Ships Split During
a Terrible Storm…
Did Anyone Survive?
Fighting
All The Way
To The Bank
Today’s world is filled with
companies ready to fight for
a paycheck. Some of them are
huge, multinational corporations
that are even traded on the
stock exchange. Here is an
overview of some major players
in today’s mercenary—or as
they prefer, “private military
contractor”—economy.
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SUCCESSFUL
IMPOSTERS
Purim is around the corner and maybe you’re one of
the many who plan to wear a disguise so good that no
one will recognize you. On the topic of disguises, here
are several stories of imposters who played their role
so well that the entire world believed them, until their
identities were exposed.
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FORENSIC
• Moshe Miller
MYSTERIES
Dov Levy
Detectives and forensic
investigators are at work trying to
solve crimes every day. Although
many of them work very hard to
uncover the facts, there are times
when their best efforts fail to get
to the bottom of the mystery.
Following are some fascinating
mysteries from police archives
that have never been solved.
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FACE-OFF ON
RUBY
RIDGE
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An American Offensive Against One Family
In the summer of 1992, the US government sent its best agents, tanks, and helicopters
along with 500 heavily-armed troops. They went to war against… one fanatic family of seven,
including a ten-month-old baby. What prompted the government to undertake such extreme
action against a single family? Read on to learn about a case when the US government went
overboard in pursuit of lawbreakers, and became lawbreakers in the process.
• Shlomo Leizerson
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IN-DEPTH COVERAGE, TIMELY ISSUES, STIMULATING STORIES FOR THE JEWISH FAMILY