<< Back

Forward >>

Edward McGuckin

I continued my search for specifics on what happened to my father during the disaster on the U.S.S. Franklin on March 19, 1945. In my phone interview with Ordnance Gunner 3rd Class Edward McGuckin, on the list of living VT5 members that Jim Stuart had provided me, I hit the jackpot.

In a calm and lucid voice, Mr. McGuckin told me that Ace was definitely not killed in the initial explosion, or by falling in the gaping hole from that explosion, or in the whirling propellers of the bouncing TBM Avenger torpedo planes--all the speculations of wing man Ensign Wally Young.

I scribbled furiously on my notepad as Mr. McGuckin was talking, asking him to repeat some of his statements a number of times. I was trembling as I wrote.

After the initial explosion, Mr. McGuckin made it aft to just starboard of the landing signal officer's station, which is on the port stern of the flight deck. That was the only logical place to go, since forward from there was an inferno of thick smoke, raging fire, and continuing explosions.

Mr. McGuckin was absolutely certain that he saw Ace, his commanding officer, among about twenty men there. Ace was not wounded.

Someone (Mr. McGuckin thinks it might have been Ensign McAlister) asked Ace: "What are we going to do now, skipper?"

Ace responded that since there was no way to go forward into the smoke, flames, and explosions, they would probably have to go over the side.

Just then there was a huge explosion, blowing Mr. McGuckin about 10 to 15 feet backward and stunning him. When he came to his senses, he could see only five men left of the original twenty or so. Ace was not among them.

Mr. McGuckin did not see Ace after that explosion. From that statement, I have made a number of conclusions: I conclude that Ace was killed in that explosion, probably erupting from underneath the flight deck--in other words, on the terrible hangar deck. The explosion was violent enough to kill men on the flight deck at the landing signal officer's station and to blow them overboard. I conclude that Ace must have been blown overboard. (It is possible, I suppose, that his remains were still aboard the ship, unrecognizable to Mr. McGuckin, but I doubt it, because the intensity of the fires rendered most of the bodies unrecognizable, as Wally Young had said in one of his letters. In a subsequent phone call, Mr. McGuckin told me, very tactfully I might add, that it was very unlikely that Ace's remains were discovered on board ship, considering the horrific explosions and fires that were raging on both the flight and hangar decks. He told me that very many remains were discovered in the water, however. I had earlier shared my sister's conclusion that Ace's Academy ring and dog tags were recovered from his remains, not from his room, as Lt. Carr had told my mother in his letter. Lt. Carr had wanted to shelter my mother from the gruesome details about Ace's remains. I now conclude that what was left of Ace, floating in his "Mae West" life preserver (standard apparel for each man in a combat situation, certainly for a pilot warming up his plane), was retrieved from the water later, perhaps hours later. The dog tags served to identify Ace. I conclude that later, sometime over the next few days as the Franklin made its sad way back to Ulithi Atoll, Ace was "buried at sea" with Taps playing (see Thomas Hagan's story).

Soon after that explosion, with the Franklin "out of control" with the explosions and fires and listing dangerously, Mr. McGuckin went over the side with the other men at that location. He was able to get onto a raft with several others. They were rescued by the destroyer U.S.S. Marshall some six hours later.

Mr. McGuckin later gave me the picture on the left of what was left of the VT5 crew, when it re-formed several weeks later in Klamath Falls, Oregon (click it to enlarge it and to see the names of the men).

On the right is an enlargement of just Mr. McGuckin in that picture.

Mr. McGuckin had quite a bit to say about his skipper. He told me that he had a great deal of respect for him; he had never heard anything bad ever said about him.

Oh yes, one thing: He was "not adroit." I asked what he meant. My father, well over six feet tall, would lead the squadron in calisthenics during the morning muster, but apparently he was not well coordinated himself.

Mr. McGuckin said that my father was "too nice a guy" to be a commanding officer.

He said Ace was a "very efficient leader." The reputation of VT5 among the other squadrons in Air Group 5 had suffered, he told me, from their poor practice performances "stateside" (California): From their Santa Rosa home base, the squadron did torpedo practice in Monterey, rocket practice in Humboldt Bay (Arcata), and night flying in Modesto. In the months leading up to their shipping out on the Franklin, Ace had worked hard to improve his squadron's reputation.

Just the day before the Japanese bomber struck the carrier, the squadron had flown two missions against Kagoshima and ports in Kyushu, doing quite a bit of damage to Japanese shipping there. Mr. McGuckin attributed the success of the missions to Ace's fine leadership. The squadron's reputation had been salvaged in actual combat performance, and they were looking to enhance it further during the scheduled raids on March 19.

Mr. McGuckin told me that, as a 17-year-old enlisted man, he had not socialized with the officers, so he really did not get to know his skipper very well as a person. He did say, however, that he preferred him as a commanding officer over any other officer he had observed or experienced.

He said he always gave good information, "words of wisdom," during squadron briefings.

He related one anecdote, further illustrating Ace as an "efficient leader": Apparently there had been one instance stateside of an enlisted man making a homosexual pass at other men in the squadron. Mr. McGuckin and five other sailors reported the incident to my father, and by the next day this individual was no longer with them.

Mr. McGuckin remembered my father as a "regular guy" at a squadron party in Santa Rosa; he didn't keep himself aloof and holy from the non-coms.

As with the other men I contacted from Jim Stuart's list, I wrote Mr. McGuckin a letter, enclosing copies of some of the digitized pictures of Ace. I told him that he had filled in a large gap in my knowledge and that I greatly appreciated it.

I spoke with Mr. McGuckin several times after that initial interview, and I made sure that I understand the details of his story clearly. I began to feel confident that I wouldn't learn information more precise than his report.

It was comforting to realize that my father probably felt no pain at all in his death.

Continue with the narrative