Memoirs: Meeting Rock Hudson

A bunch of sailors were sitting around having lunchtime chow at the Underwater Demolition Team mess tent in Manila, The Philippines. Considering the lousy K-ration food we usually had at the tent city near the Navy Fleet Landing just down the Pasig River, an invitation to join the UDT guys for a meal featuring fresh meat, vegetables and ice cream was a real treat. I’m sure of the exact date, August 15, 1945, because it was one for the history books.

After the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki the previous week, the announcement had been made just hours before that the Japanese government was asking for surrender terms. To those who remember those hysterically happy days, the final surrender ceremony took place about the battleship USS Missouri two weeks later in Tokyo Bay, presided over by General MacArthur.

To my shipmates and all the other service men and women in the Pacific, the war’s end had even deeper meaning. At the time, our amphibious ships were part of the build-up for the final landings on Japan’s main island of Honshu, scheduled just 60 days away. After the horrendous Navy and Marine casualties during the previous 1945 campaigns on Iwo Jima and Okinawa, our expected losses in the landings and support of the ground forces for the invasion were to be as high as half a million Americans. The sudden end of the war meant we were going to survive and go home.

Therefore, it was a very happy group of sailors who assembled at the UDT chow tent. Most of us knew each other from other campaigns and assignments, but there was a new guy at our chow table. He was my age, 19, but while I resembled a kid playing dress-up sailor, he was a big, husky guy who looked like he could pose for an ad in a bodybuilder magazine.

We got to talking about … of course … what we were going to do after the war. My ambition was to get to college, complete my degree and become a famous writer or illustrator. Other guys said they were going back to the farm, open a gas station, or work in their dad’s store or make a million on Wall Street.

One sailor slapped the big fellow on the back and laughed, “What are you gonna do, Roy, become a pro wrestler?” We all laughed, but Roy Fitzgerald was serious with his answer. “I’m going to Hollywood and become an actor.” That brought on some more laughs. We talked some more that day, and continued to meet together for the next month, getting to know each other as only guys who share war experiences can do.

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