A Call to Arms: The Personal History of a World War Ii Pilot

By Gerald G. Hogan

In A Call to Arms a highly-decorated World War II U.S. Navy pilot recounts his experiences searching for Nazi submarines in the North Atlantic and providing air support during the Allied invasion of Southern France. Written in 1988 while the author was dying of lung cancer, the book provides a personal account of a Navy pilots life during the war and a thoughtful, and at times excruciating, moral self-evaluation from the point of view of a war veteran as he faces his own mortality many years after the war. Part personal chronicle, part examination of conscience, A Call to Arms is unique among military memoirs.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 9, 2016
• ISBN: 9781514451427

Gerald G. Hogan

After graduating form the University of Notre Dame in 1940, Gerald Griffin “Jerry” Hogan entered the U.S. Navy where he served as a carrier-based pilot involved in anti-submarine warfare. Later he provided air support to Allied troops during the invasion of Southern France. After the war, he married and joined his brother-in-law in starting Templegate, a Catholic religious goods store and book publishing business with locations in Springfield, Illinois and Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. He retired from the business world in 1968, earned a master’s degree in English from the University of Pittsburgh, and taught high school English at Shadyside Academy in Pittsburgh for ten years. He died of lung cancer in 1989.

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Copyright © 2016 by Griff Hogan.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2016900873

ISBN:   Hardcover   978-1-5144-5144-1

             Softcover    978-1-5144-5143-4

             eBook        978-1-5144-5142-7

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Cover: Gerald G. Hogan flying a U.S. Navy Avenger, October 26, 1943.

U.S.S. Block Island visible in background   (Official U.S. Navy photograph)

Rev. date: 03/08/2016

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CONTENTS

Acknowledgements

Introduction

1   Floyd Bennett Field

2   Pensacola

3   Miami And Leaves

4   Panama Canal

5   Norfolk

6   Convoy Duty And Casablanca

7   Malta

8   U-66417

9   Invasion Of Southern France

10 San Tropez

Appendix

Awards

Bibliography

Notes

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I am deeply indebted to those who assisted me in the preparation of my father’s memoirs. My sister Grace provided invaluable information and assisted me in correcting several errors, as well as helping my father by proofreading the original manuscript. My cousin Hugh Garvey of Springfield, Illinois, provided moral support, as always, and generously shared information that enriched the manuscript’s notes. My cousin Connie Hogan Jones graciously provided many family photos, two of which appear here.

I am particularly indebted to naval historian Dave Schwind who, in writing his excellent book Blue Seas, Red Stars: Soviet Military Medals to U.S. Sea Service Recipients in World War II, contacted me for information about my father, and then reciprocated by providing me with many details to which I had no access. The records, photographs, corrections, and encouragement that he provided are deeply appreciated.

Most of all I would like to thank my wife, Kathy, for her loving support throughout the editing process.

I am grateful to all who helped me with this manuscript, and I take sole responsibility for any errors that escaped my attention.

Griff Hogan

INTRODUCTION

"A Call to Arms" was written in 1988 when the author was suffering through the final stages of lung cancer. He died at home on January 11, 1989 at the age of 70.

His memoirs of World War II are exceptional in many ways—a very personal account of extraordinary actions during a critical period of world history. Gerald Griffin Jerry Hogan, my father, was a U.S. Navy pilot involved in anti-submarine warfare and the Allied invasion of southern France. He served with extraordinary bravery and inflicted great damage on the enemy. He led the sinking of one submarine, assisted in the destruction of another, and attacked the Nazi army as it retreated toward Germany.

He also received considerable acclaim for his service. For an American military pilot the ultimate recognition is the Distinguished Flying Cross. The Navy awarded him three. His accomplishments were featured in several American newspapers, including The Chicago Tribune and The New York Times. So outstanding was his service that after the war he was one of 27 American naval personnel recognized by the Presidium of the Supreme Soviet of the U.S.S.R. with the Red Star, a prestigious Soviet military award. A Presidential citation was awarded to his entire anti-submarine task unit for outstanding performance during anti-submarine operations in [the] mid-Atlantic.

Any of this would make "A Call to Arms interesting reading, but what distinguishes it further is my father’s unique approach to his subject, both as a writer and as a man. Many war veterans of that era were reluctant to discuss their experiences, and some never did. My father spoke of the war without hesitation whenever the topic arose, although always in his own way. His recollections never emphasized his heroics, but usually highlighted his extreme good fortune as a pilot for the Navy. Except when asked, he never spoke about the awards he earned. He took the same approach in A Call to Arms. His combat missions received due attention, but his interest and concern was simply to tell the truth, certainly not to draw praise or attention to himself. His recollections were honest and often painfully self-critical. And although he frequently described all that he enjoyed during this period, he never romanticized the war itself. Rather, he stated categorically that war is not anything that is glamorous or heroic or virtuous. It is all grim and horrible."

To fully appreciate this unusual narrative it would serve the reader to better understand its author.

My father was born on March 7, 1918 in Brooklyn, New York, the third of five sons of John and Elizabeth Greiner Hogan. My grandfather, an engineer who specialized in the construction of bridges, died in 1947 and was reportedly a very demanding taskmaster. My grandmother was born in New York, a second generation German American. Her own mother had been dispatched from Germany by her fiancé with the understanding that he would soon join her in America. She never saw him again. My grandparents raised their lower middle class family in Brooklyn, and had many Irish, German and Jewish neighbors.

In his narrative my father described his mother as brave, and I believe his description was intended to commend her courage in matters far beyond the anecdote he was relating. Under any circumstances, keeping a large family together in Depression-era New York would have been difficult. With my grandfather it was likely much more so. I do not recall my father ever discussing the man in any detail, and what little my sister and I know of him we heard from others. In "A Call to Arms he mentioned having a falling out" with his father, and a later reconciliation, but provided no further details.

He did tell my sister Grace and me, however, of growing up in a family that was stressful and at times painful. One story that we heard several times is particularly striking. During his grammar school years my father’s family lived in a rented house. One day he walked home from school to find the home empty and the entire family gone, with no indication of where they were. My father was devastated, and went from room to room, sobbing, in a panicked search. Eventually he learned from a neighbor that during the day the family had moved to another house several blocks away. When he made his way there his mother and brothers apologized to him, explaining that they had simply forgotten to tell him their plans.

Despite enduring hardships both in Depression-era America and his own family, my father survived his childhood and managed to receive a very good education. He graduated from Brooklyn Preparatory High School in 1936 and was president of the student body. He then headed off to the University of Notre Dame, as did two of his brothers, where he became an excellent student, majoring in English literature. He was active in student dramatic productions, had the male lead in Room Service, and wrote for Juggler, the campus literary periodical. A play that he authored received the Orestes Brownson Award as the outstanding drama written by a student.

As described in his memoirs, following graduation from college, and a brief stint as an advertising copywriter in New York, he entered the Navy for elimination training as a pilot. In combat, his assignments were almost entirely aboard two aircraft carriers, the U.S.S. Kasaan Bay and the U.S.S. Card. From the carriers he hunted and engaged enemy submarines; later, he provided air cover for the invasion of southern France. As the Nazi army retreated north, the usefulness of carrier-based aircraft was over, and the narrative ends as the convoy headed back to Rhode Island. He was discharged from the Navy in 1945.

Although his return voyage may have been uneventful as he writes, the subsequent months and years were anything but. When he returned back to the states, my father rekindled a romance with Mary Driscoll, a St. Mary’s College graduate from Decatur, Illinois, whom he had dated during their student years in South Bend, and with whom he may have corresponded during the war. After a courtship of only two weeks they became engaged, and married on January 8, 1945.

Following his discharge he and Mary moved to Brooklyn, where they lived for a time at 759 E. 18th Street. During this time my father began working for Pan American Airways in its advertising department. Mary soon became pregnant with my sister Grace, who was born prematurely on September 4, 1945, weighing less than three pounds. Grace remained in the hospital for 57 days, and during this time my father and Mary gave up their apartment and moved in with Jane and Hugh Garvey, Mary’s sister and brother-in-law, in Pelham, New York. In November, shortly after Grace was released from the hospital, my father was transferred to Lima, Peru. Grace was not permitted to travel by air until February, so Mary took her by train to her father’s home in Decatur until after Christmas. They then flew to Lima and lived there until Mary became pregnant for a second time. Coming home once again to Decatur, Mary suffered complications during the delivery, which proved to be fatal for both her and the baby. She died on December 1, 1946.

It is impossible to know the depth of the pain that my father must have endured during this time. As a young widower with a baby, he lived for a time in Decatur, where Mary Driscoll’s father temporarily assisted with the care of Grace. While there, he was introduced by Jane Garvey, Mary’s sister, to my mother, Patience Garvey. Jane Driscoll Garvey was my mother’s sister-in-law, the wife of her brother Hugh.

My parents became engaged, and married on November 11, 1948. They settled in Springfield, Illinois where I was born. My father had known Hugh Garvey at Notre Dame, and they shared interests in both Catholicism and literature. Together, they started Templegate, a Catholic book and religious goods store in Springfield. Eventually, they also developed a small publishing company, also named Templegate, which specialized in religious books and was directed by my Uncle Hugh.

Our family lived in Springfield until 1957. During this time Hugh and Jane Garvey’s family had grown to include nine children, and there were too many of us to be supported by the Springfield store alone. Therefore, our family moved to Pittsburgh, where my father opened a second Templegate location at 500 Liberty Avenue, the center of the city. The store supported our family throughout my childhood.

When I was a freshman at Notre Dame my parents came to visit during Freshmen Parents’ Weekend. After breakfast that Saturday my father asked me if I thought I would want to take over his business upon graduation. For two summers I had worked at Templegate, and I knew a bit about what the store involved. I also knew that I had no desire to run it. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, I said I was considering majoring in English and perhaps pursuing a teaching career. I paused to see if I had disappointed him, but I didn’t have to wait long. A smile broke out on his face, and he said, "That’s exactly what I’d like to do! If you think you wouldn’t want to run Templegate, I’d like to sell the store and go to graduate school."

And that’s what he did. Shortly after the sale he was accepted into graduate school, and received a master’s degree in English from the University of Pittsburgh in 1970. After brief stints as an adjunct professor, first at Pitt and later at Clarion State College, he taught English at Shadyside Academy in Pittsburgh, until retiring from his second career in 1982.

This biographical sketch briefly describes the man who wrote "A Call to Arms." His narrative was also succinct, but echoes of his major life experiences, interests, strengths and weaknesses can be found throughout it.

To know my father was to appreciate that he was a man of literature, with a keen interest in modern Catholic writers. To some who grew up in the Irish Catholic culture of the twentieth century, literature was like a national sport. Others might have been preoccupied with star athletes; my father was that way about writers. His parents named him after Gerald Griffin, a prominent 19th century Irish novelist. As a boy he was a voracious reader, an interest nourished at Brooklyn Prep. At Notre Dame he majored in English and was strongly influenced by several teachers, most of all by Professor Frank O’Malley, a legendary bachelor don whose specialty was modern Catholic literature.

The literary world that O’Malley explored in his lectures influenced my father’s entire life. It was likely Professor O’Malley who got him his first job in the advertising business in New York immediately following his graduation. After the war my father was involved in the publishing end