GLENMOOR - The Merchant Marine, although often forgotten, have played a vital part during times of war. The merchant ships were the lifeline of the war efforts supplying important cargo, military supplies and even troops that would aid the men and women of the Armed Forces overseas.
The ugly face of war struck these mariners especially during World War II where over 700 cargo ships were sunk costing the lives of nearly 9,000 who served on the troubled waters.
One of 24 perished helping their country.
Glenmoor resident Asa A. Baumgarner, able-bodied seaman Z355116, recalls first-hand the exciting life of being part of the Merchant Marine during the second Great War. His dreams of sailing the world's oceans and seas were reached. He met great friends and has extraordinary tales of his service. But he also carries the nightmares of enemy attacks, lost comrades and the dangerous missions in enemy territory.
In total, he was involved with the Merchant Marine for three years taking 12 voyages on 11 different ships.
To this day, he continues to fight to see a Merchant Marine house bill that would offer lost benefits to the surviving marines. This comes after about 20 years when they were finally recognized as veterans in 1988.
Baumgarner's adventures starts in 1942, at the age of 22-years old, when he was in a home on Sophia Street in East Liverpool in 1942. During that year, he married Inez Ernestine Brown, a young girl he met on a blind date who worked at the Homer Laughlin Pottery company. Some six months later, "Uncle Sam came breathing down my neck," according to Baumgarner, and in the fall of that year, he began training for the Merchant Marine.
From the Ohio Valley, the once Sophia Street resident traveled to Sheepshead Bay in Manhattan, Hoffman Island in the harbor and then to Boston where he was housed in seamen's quarters awaiting the call to war.
He got that call in early 1943.
In March of that year, Baumgarner was on the Bennington and while adjusting to the rough seas he scurried down to the mess hall to grab a few crackers to settle his stomach. That is when he received word the captain wanted him on the bridge. The young ordinary seaman said knowing the captain wanted to see him on the bridge turned his stomach even worse.
But it turned out the ship was down a man that could steer a ship and without the proper qualifications, Baumgarner literally took the wheel at the request of the captain. The man in charge left the bridge and Baumgarner said he basically was zig-zagging down an open ocean trying to handle the waters for the first time.
The third mate, overseeing the inaugural steering opportunity, told the seaman that, according to Baumgarner, "Young man, if you didn't grip on that wheel so tight, you'd go a lot further in life."
At that time, Baumgarner did not know those words would not only apply to the current situation but in life, in general.
He had another opportunity to steer a ship on his third voyage later that year in 1943. And in 1944, he steered the Jalapa from the Marshall Islands in the central Pacific Ocean back to the Panama Canal. During some fun in the sun on the island atoll of Eniwetok, Baumgarner's eyes were stinging from the salt water and he was also hurting from head-to-toe after a run-in with a jellyfish.
Approaching midnight, the ship was on course to the Panama Canal and the seaman was ready to begin his 12 a.m. to 4 a.m. shift. After taking the helm, Baumgarner's eyes began to slowly and close and before he knew, another shipmate awoken him sometime later and he realized he was in full swing, heading west.
The official recording that evening, though, as sent in to the War Department, was the ship took evasive actions towards China for some time to avoid a lurking submarine shadowing the ship.
Travelling across the waterways was frightening, though, especially with the deadly German U-boats patrolling the seas. Merchant ships would have to be escorted by the Navy and guns would often be mounted on board the cargo-carrying vessels.
The fear of the submarines, depth charge explosions and even the deadly weather made it difficult to get a good rest aboard ships travelling across the oceans.
"You were tormented all of the way until you got there," Baumgarner said. "You would get convey fatigue when you're at this very long. You don't know (when an attack may happen)."
One close call with an enemy submarine stands out in Baumgarner's memory. He was on his way to the bridge while his cargo ship was part of an escort convoy. As he got on deck, he saw one of the patrol boats break off course.
"Here comes this destroyer down between the (cargo) ships and this little blue light came on and the gun went 'pom pom' and the second pom hit a submarine coming out of the water," he said. "They hit this thing and it went up like a mushroom cloud. I tell you, it made us shake, rattle and roll."
The sonar picked up 60 vessels in a 59 ship convoy.
Back Stateside, Baumgarner said he was glad to see Lady Liberty seemingly waving at the mariners returning home from their voyage. After the time at sea, the East Liverpool resident was in a hurry to return home and surprise his wife.
But it was his wife that had the surprise for him.
"I grabbed this train and here I was on my way home and when I got home I was going to surprise my wife," Baumgarner said. "And I snuck home in the middle of the night and when I showed up here she wasn't alone. She had this baby girl with her about six-weeks old."
The mother and father finally were able to welcome their first-born daughter into the world together.
Baumgarner has many more memories of the war and he has recorded a lot of it on paper and through audio interviews and storytelling.
Some cause grief like the monotony of the days on the ship and, of course, seeing fellow marines perish on the seas. Some are of happier times like meeting the crewmen of the various ships and being able to visit other countries and see the world like he once dreamed about. He also loved visiting his wife and family while on leave in between voyages.
In 1946, Baumgarner stepped off the George Bellows and that would be the last time he would have the repetitive sound of the boat propeller humming in the background while he lived his life.
Today, he keeps a close eye on the "Belated Thank You to the Merchant Mariners of World War II Act of 2009" that he, his wife and other marines have been campaigning for during the years. His wife passed away some nine years ago, but Baumgarner is very active at home taking care of his gardens and plants and enjoying the company of friends and family.
He is not shy to tell visitors of his pride of the Merchant Marine and will not hesitate to tell stories about the two ladies of life that he cared for so much starting in around the time of World War II to today - Lady Liberty and his beloved wife Ernestine Brown.
