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SS ANCONby Susan Harp The Panama Canal Spillway, September 25, 1992 |
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When the Panama Railroad Steamship line christened the SS Ancon in 1939,
no one would have predicted that the first-rate cargo and passenger transport vessel would
one day serve as the World War II U.S. Navy communications ship that would broadcast the
news of the Japanese surrender from Tokyo Bay to an anxiously awaiting world.
The original Ancon had become famous in 1914 as the first ship to officially
transit the Panama Canal. Its namesake was built to make a routine ten-day voyage between
New York and Cristobal, via Haiti, its cargo: up to 206 passengers, housed in modern
accommodations and served excellent cuisine. In the hold for the southbound voyage were
supplies for the commissary and Canal operations. Bananas, coffee and raw cotton made the
northbound trip.
Designed by well-known naval architect George Sharp and industrial engineer Raymond
Loewy, the Ancon and sister ships, the Panama and Cristobal,were
built by the Bethlehem Steel Corporation. Their 493 foot- long and 64-foot-wide hulls were
painted pearl grey, with white decks and cream smoke stacks. Brochures lured passengers
with pictures of comfortable, air conditioned interiors and emphasized the vessel's
fireproof construction and tile swimming pools.
Pearl Harbor changed all that. After the United States declared war on Japan on
December 7, 1941, the Ancon was taken over by the U.S. Army Transport Service. Guns
were mounted on the decks, and the entire ship was camouflaged with a dull,
battleship-grey paint. The holds became troop accommodations; the pool, a bath-house; and
the lounge, the officers' wardroom. Officers quarters still had pink-tiled private
bathrooms, and the air conditioning was still functional - but the Ancon was now a
working military vessel.
The Ancon's peacetime captain, David H. Swinson, had been with the Panama
Line since 1921. He stayed on in 1942 and made two voyages carrying U.S. Army troops to
Australia. When the U.S. Navy commissioned the Ancon and made it a flagship, the
tenacious Swinson joined the Navy and stayed on again as the ship's executive officer. He
remained with the Ancon through three invasions in the Atlantic before moving on to
other assignments.
The Ancon's first war action as a flagship was at Fedalia, French Morocco,
in the November 1942 invasion of Casablanca. There were many close calls. Alongside the Ancon,
the USS Joseph Hewes, another transport, was torpedoed and sunk, and the Ancon's
crew rescued the survivors. The next night was worse. Torpedoes struck and sank five more
transport ships and an oil tanker that were around the Ancon,which only escaped by
quickly cutting its anchor and putting out to sea.
After the narrow escape at Fedalia, the Ancon crew members proudly nicknamed
the ship "The Mighty A." They took wounded American soldiers and a few German
prisoners back to the United States and began preparations for a new mission.
On April 20, 1943, with the area that had once been a swimming pool now converted
into a radio shack and miles of wire and tons of sensitive communications devices
installed, the Ancon became the flagship and communications center for the invasion
of Normandy, France. For the first two years of U.S. involvement in the war, the Ancon
remained the only communications ship in the Atlantic.
(During the invasion of Sicily, Gen. Omar Bradley was aboard, as commanding general
of the operation.) At Salerno, (with Lt. Gen. Mark Clark aboard as the commander of the
5th Army) "The Mighty A" escaped the German air force bombs by burning smoke
pots during the day to hide its exact location and by changing positions at night.
Nevertheless, an Italian submarine managed to locate it and surfaced close by. Instead of
attacking, however, the submarine immediately surrendered. Some of the Ancon's crew
members boarded the submarine and escorted it to Malta. During the massive D-Day invasion
of the beaches at Normandy, the Ancon served as the eyes, ears and voice of Rear
Admiral John L. Hall as he coordinated air, land and sea forces.
That fall, the Ancon returned to the United States to be recamouflaged and
refitted. The day after Christmas 1944, it left Charleston, SC to spend New Year's Eve in
Panama. But it was not yet time to resume the parties once held on its decks; the Ancon
was headed for the Pacific.
A report spread through the ship that Tokyo Rose had announced that "The
Mighty A" was in the Pacific and that Japanese forces were looking for it. The crew
lit the smoke pots and burned them continually through the April 1945 invasion of Okinawa.
One night in Okinawa, one of the smoke generators on the deck exploded into flames
just as Japanese planes were flying in. The crew put the fire out so quickly that it was
never spotted by the enemy planes. Later, the crew blasted a kamikaze pilot out of the
sky, only to watch another one plunge into a nearby battleship. Another day, the crew
stayed on alert for 14 hours, repelling 19 air raids.
After the Japanese offered to surrender, the Ancon served as the
communications ship for the Iowa,Admiral William Halsey's Missouri and
Admiral Chester Nimitz's South Dakota in Tokyo Bay. It was from the Ancon
that some 90 war correspondents from the United States, China, England and Australia sent
jubilant messages to the world that the war was over.
With the glorious record of service to the Allied cause, the Ancon was
returned to the Panama Line on February 25, 1946. Captain Swinson was on hand to once
again take the helm. The Cristobal and the Panama (renamed the James
Parker during the war) also returned from duty as troop transports.
Its hulls again painted pearl grey with a white trim, the Ancon settled down
to a relaxed routine of carrying Canal employees to the States and returning with
everything from locomotive engines to stenography pads in the hold.
The Ancon remained with the Canal until 1961, when it became a training ship
for the Maine Maritime Academy. Twelve years later, "The Mighty A" was
dismantled, its machinery and equipment sold and its hull cut up for scrap. The SS
Ancon is gone now, but the tale of its exploits recalls a time in history when it
served its mission well.