The story that follows is based on the real-life experiences of Raynald E. Bergeron. Prior to the war, he had received a sports scholarship for playing football and baseball for Canton; but he was unable to attend college due to receiving draft papers. Mr. Bergeron then decided to enlist in the Navy. He became a Chief Petty Officer aboard the U.S.S. Denver and stayed on this ship for the duration of the time he served in World War II, from 1942-1946. He was in charge of basically everything, except oil and ammunition. He still resides in Canton, Connecticut.

Deadly Waters

Raynald Bergeron had seen his fair share of fights, for he was Boxing Captain aboard the great U.S.S. Denver in the Pacific during World War II. Trained at Coddington Point, Rhode Island, Ray was confident that he was prepared to handle anything that came his way, even if others weren’t. But, unbeknownst to him, he would soon find himself taking part in a fight that would remain in his memory for the rest of his life.

It was a cool night at sea. The wind was blowing at a steady pace, and the ship rocked back and forth, like a child’s crib. The four hours of sleep Ray received every night, followed by all the hard work, cooking, and cleaning, left him tired and restless. He and every other man aboard ship slipped quietly into their bunks and fell into a deep slumber, no matter the fears of war that hung over their heads.

That night, shortly after their dreams of family and friends had come and gone, the alarm bells began to sound. Some men aboard the ship began yelling, “Bogey, enemy planes are dangerously close, 300 miles!” It took a minute for Ray to shake away the sleepy glaze and realize what was happening. He looked around and waited for some sign of confirmation. His heart raced. He feared that the worst had come; he feared for his life and the lives of the other men aboard ship. He heard the alarm sound once again, mixed with the voices of other sailors on the outer deck. The cabin bunks were usually crowded. But now there were only two other people in the barracks with him. Raynald swiftly jumped out of bed and put on his uniform. Running to join the huge crowd trying to squeeze their way through the tiny door leading to fresh air, Ray passed by an empty poker table with the chips and cards frighteningly scattered everywhere. He knew this wasn’t a good sign.

When the first torpedo hit, Ray was below deck. It had created a huge splash, which filtered even more fear into him. The men were shaken and began to feel that the ten days in training was not enough. Some regretted not telling their families how much they loved them and feared that they might never be able to. The ship was dead in the water; and soon other ships would come to help, surrounding the U.S.S. Denver, making it a less obvious target.

By the time Ray finally reached the outer deck, the huge 700-foot cruiser had started to tilt, and Ray braced himself and held on to a nearby railing. The men, all in their specified battle stations, yelled, “Torpedoes!” Those trained to shoot, jumped behind their six-inch guns and fired at the enemy planes barely visible in the gloomy skies above. They were going to win this fight the U.S.S. Denver would not go down.

One torpedo took out a powder room full of powder cans for the projectors. All of a sudden, a second powder room was hit. Both were engulfed in flames, and the navy personnel aboard retrieved buckets to help put the fires out. Two of the four engines were destroyed, but the men fought on. They refused to be lost in the middle of the Pacific. They were going to win this fight and make it home to see their families once again.

Raynald could hear the explosions, but the sky was pitch dark. All he could see was the smoke rising in the reflection of the deadly waters. The men manned their battle stations bravely as they awaited the arrival of another aircraft.

Some time later, when the sun had risen to its highest peak in the sky, and a musty fog had surrounded the ship, the men began to look around at each other, and at the men who weren’t so fortunate. They realized that they had won the battle. They had fought off the enemy planes that torpedoed them, leaving twenty-two dead. A deep sadness arose for their dear friends lost. The sailors looked ahead to a long week, fixing the damage done to the ship; and Ray looked forward to putting that night, behind him and moving on to the rest of his life.

The U.S.S. Denver traveled to the Solomon Islands for a temporary patch, then traveled to Pearl Harbor, and finally ended up in San Francisco, where it would stay for 40 days to get repairs. Raynald was granted a short liberty, and was now free to go where he pleased until the ship departed. Unfortunately, for him this would be a most memorable experience and one that would change him for a lifetime to come.