Home : Remembering :

Liberty & Victory Ships

Cassiopeia (AK-75) was launched 15 November 1942 as Melville W. Fuller by Permanente Metals Corp., Richmond, Calif., under a Maritime Commission contract; acquired by the Navy 27 November 1942; and commissioned 8 December 1942 USS Cassiopeia (AK-75).

Liberty ship was the name given to the EC2 type ship designed for "Emergency" construction by the United States Maritime Commission in World War II. Liberty ships, nicknamed "ugly ducklings" by President Franklin Delano Roosevelt. The first of the 2,751 Liberty ships was the SS Patrick Henry, launched on Sept. 27, 1941, and built to a standardized, mass produced design. The 250,000 parts were pre-fabricated throughout the country in 250-ton sections and welded together in about 70 days. One Liberty ship, the SS Robert E. Peary was built in four and a half days. A Liberty cost under $2,000,000.

When the United States entered World War II at the end of 1941, it had the beginnings of a great merchant fleet. But the lethal U-Boats, submarines of the German Navy, prowled the shipping lanes hunting American merchant ships. The Liberty ships proved to be too slow and too small to carry the tons of supplies the United States and her Allies would need to win the war. In 1943, the United States began a new ship-building program. These new ships would be faster, larger, and able to carry cargo long after the war was finished. These were the Victory ships. The Liberty and Victory ships fulfilled President Roosevelt's prophetic words, serving the nation well in war and peace. Today, of the thousands of Liberty ships and Victory ships built during World War II, only a handful remains.

USS Cassiopeia

A northern constellation.

Truth is often stranger than fiction, and in a journey that zig-zags its way through 65 years of American history, this Liberty Ship's helm wheel now makes its home in land-locked Rolla. Ask any World War II historian and you'll learn that Liberty Ships played a major part in the US war effort. Standardized and mass-produced, these 441 foot long ships were pre-fabricated in 250 ton sections from 250,000 parts and welded together.

Nicknamed "ugly ducklings", even President Franklin D. Roosevelt said they were "dreadful looking objects". Yet, they could carry incredible loads! According to one of the many web-sites keeping naval history alive, the 5 holds of a Liberty could carry 2,840 jeeps, 440 tanks, or 230 million rounds of rifle ammunition.

Long time Rolla resident Bosco Eudaly recalls serving on one of the 2,751 ships made during the war. Eudaly joined the navy after a boyhood friend went down on the battleship Arizona during the Pearl Harbor attack. Assigned to the Liberty ship USS Cassiopeia, he helped supply war necessities to New Zealand, Guadalcanal and the Solomon Islands.

With Eudaly aboard, the Cassy (as her crew members named her) was present at the battle of Leyte Gulf. Marking the first time the Japanese used Kamikaze pilots, this massive battle involved more ships, planes and men than any battle ever fought.

Ending the war with three Battle Stars and 4 Campaign Medals, the Cassiopeia met the fate of many Liberty Ships and was sunk in 1961 by a torpedo from a US Navy submarine as part of a target practice exercise. However, all is not lost. The ship's helm wheel had been removed before the sinking and was presented as a gift to the captain of the USS Cutlass, the submarine responsible for the Cassy's demise.

Technology not even dreamed of during World War II now plays a part in the story. While learning to use a search engine on the internet, Eudaly's wife Tina found that the wheel was still in existence 45 years after the ship's sinking. After arriving at its new Rolla home, family members presented the wheel to Bosco Eudaly as an 81st birthday gift.

Speaking of the wheel, Eudaly remembers that it got a workout. "To avoid submarine attack, we had to change course every 7 minutes. That is how long it took for a Japanese torpedo crew to lock in on their target, so every few minutes the wheel operator would zig-zag the ship through the South Pacific waters all the way to our destination. It's great to finally take the wheel of the Cassy!" he adds.

Mark Eudaly. Ship's wheel comes home to land-locked Rolla. Special to the Rolla Daily News.

David Friederich

Granite City resident and proud father to four girls, was diagnosed with Stage 4 terminal lung cancer last year. Today, on Father's Day, he will gather with family members and celebrate, perhaps for the last time. Friederich, 80, is a World War II veteran who fought in the largest Naval battle in the history of the world at Leyte Gulf. He served in the Pacific for three years during the war, came home, raised a family. Today, he is not wasting his time thinking about how he will die. Instead, he tells the stories of how he lived. "I've always been proud of serving during the war," Friederich said. "It was an incredible time in the history of the country. A person can't go through something like that without being deeply affected."

Friederich is full of stories. Born in May of 1926, he grew up on a Depression-era farm in Clinton County. He still talks about that old farmhouse, remembers the large walnut tree in the front yard. When the war came, the tree was chopped down and used to make gun stocks.

He can still remember how his family plowed the fields, grew corn, survived through tough circumstances. He has photos of the old steam engine and threshing machine his family used to cultivate crops. He talks about the time when he was 7, trying desperately to resist the temptation of being a cowboy. When the urge finally overcame him, he mounted up on a cow, held on for dear life, but was finally thrown over the bovine's head and into the mud.

He speaks of tragic moments as well. In 1934, Friederich's mother was diagnosed with a heart defect. The hard-working woman from Franklin County, Ark., succumbed to the condition not long after, passing away at age 31 and leaving behind four children. David was 9.

David's father kept the family together after the tragedy, raising all four kids on the family farm. Many years later, Friederich looked back on the decision and was grateful. "Dad took on the task of raising us alone," Friederich said. "Each of our godparents offered to take one of us, but Dad wanted to keep us together."

More than 70 years later, Friederich still remembers the lessons he learned on that farm. He has remained close to his own children and keeps pictures of his family close to him. He has 10 grandchildren, three great grandchildren with a fourth on the way, and one great-great grandchild. "I've always been grateful for that, for my family," Friederich said. "I've been blessed."

Writing It Down

In 1985, Friederich's daughters began encouraging him to write down some of his memories from the war. He went along with the idea, authoring an autobiography that detailed his experiences in the Navy. He wrote candidly and openly, hoping that his daughters might someday be able to gain a better understanding of his life. The stories are often times painfully honest, as he describes experiences with naval hazing, dealing with the fear and loneliness that comes from being at sea for months at a time, and seeing his comrades die during the war. "I wrote it all down, and then locked it away," Friederich said. "I figured they could read after I was dead and gone."

Over the next decade, Friederich's daughters persuaded him to unlock those stories. Theresa Campbell, the second-oldest of the four girls, said she desperately wanted her father to share his stories with the world. "We always knew that he had some incredible experiences during the war and it seemed so important for him to share that history," Campbell said. "We're losing our World War II veterans at an alarming rate. This was a way for those stories to live on."

In 1996, Friederich opened the vault to his wartime experiences. After retiring from General Motors in the 1980s, Friederich was spending much of his time learning about computers and the world wide web. He taught himself to type, to use a computer, and eventually he put his stories on the Web at David A. Friederich's World War II Navy Page.

Friederich hoped the digital publishing would allow him to reconnect with many of his shipmates from the U.S.S. Cassiopeia AK 75, a 10,000-ton Liberty ship used to deliver cargo, ammunition, and supplies to the Allied fleet in the Pacific.

The site did just, allowing Friederich to reach dozens of fellow veterans who served with him on the Cassiopeia. The site caused an unexpected outcome as well, with Friederich receiving thousands of e-mails from school students across the country over the past decade. It seems his Web site keeps popping up in search engines, and any time a student needed to do a report on a World War II veteran, the history of the Navy, or the battle of Leyte Gulf, Friederich received an e-mail. He has helped literally hundreds of kids complete their reports. "They're always very nice, saying they have a research project they're working on," Friederich said. "I let them use whatever they want, do anything I can to help them out." Friederich now has a binder full of school reports written about him and his Web site, as well as a number of thank you letters from students.

Eating Bananas

Friederich's account of serving in World War II starts with bananas. It was May of 1943 and Friederich had just turned 17. The lanky, 5-foot-6 teen-ager traveled 35 miles to St. Louis to enlist in the Navy. His father had to sign a consent form for him to join.

When Friederich began his physical for the Navy, he found out that he was underweight, unable to meet the 115-pound requirement for a 5-foot-6 man. "They told me to get some bananas and eat as many as I could and drink all the water I could hold," Friederich said. "I did this and returned, weighing in at 115 ½ pounds."

So begins Friederich's story about the war, his long journey across the ocean to the Philippines, the battle of Leyte Gulf, and the unbelievable courage shown by the crew of the U.S.S. Cassiopeia. His tales are a sobering experience of war, told in a straight-forward and honest fashion. When the Japanese fleet launched a counter-attack off the coast of Leyte, the U.S.S. Cassiopeia was separated from the main fleet, a prime target for Japanese kamikazes and submarines. "We knew that we didn't have a chance if battleships and cruisers started firing on us," Friederich writes on his Web site. "We waited in stunned silence, in desperation. My childhood dream of being in something ‘great' had turned into my worst nightmare."

The Cassiopeia survived the battle at Leyte, using its 10 guns to shoot down several Japanese plans. Friederich served as a sight-setter on the 5-inch gun, working a system of cranks and dials to aim the weapon. By the end of the battle, the Cassiopeia was officially credited with bringing down seven Japanese planes, with three more probables.

Friederich also recounts more light-hearted episodes aboard the Cassie. Some crew members become famous in his stories for their exploits. One of his shipmates had a habit of storing bottles of alcohol underwater, attaching to the ship's hull to keep it hidden from constant searches by the officers. Retrieving the alcohol required a home-made diving apparatus that allowed crew members to reach the stash.

He also talks about constantly writing to his pen-pal, a cute, 15-year-old girl named Delores. Just two years younger than he, Friederich said he was immediately taken by her eloquent correspondence and liked her immediately. "I started writing her love letters and she finally sent her picture," Friederich said. "I liked that, too. I realized early on that you had to write letters to get them, so I became a prolific letter writer." When Friederich returned from the war, he married Delores on June 10, 1946, starting a marriage that has lasted more than 60 years.

Despite serving so much time at sea on the Cassie, Friederich said he had never touched the helm wheel of the ship until last week. Former shipmate Bosco Eudaly, who now owns the wheel, traveled from Springfield (Rolla), Mo., to let Friederich finally feel the most historical piece of the ship. "That was remarkable, to touch it after all these years," Friederich said. "The Cassie was an incredible ship. It held so many great memories for me."

Final Farewell

Today, Friederich is busy preparing a hospice room at his Granite City home, where a nurse will care for him in his final months. Doctors have already tried chemotherapy, a treatment that offered no hope and did nothing to reduce the cancer. Oncologists believe he will pass away within a few months.

His family has spent the past few weeks treasuring every moment. All four of his daughters, Sandra, Theresa, Kathy, and Marianne, have taken time to express their love and gratitude for everything their dad has done over the years. "We look at this Father's Day as a gift from God," Theresa said. "The most important thing in Dad's life has been his feeling of responsibility for his family. We never went hungry and he never paid a bill late in his life."

Theresa said that her father stands out as an incredible individual, that his stories and passion for life will live on long after he is gone. "For the many happy memories, for the vacations in Florida, for the camping trips, for the fishing lessons, for the life lessons, we want to thank him for everything," Theresa said. "He is the best father anyone could ever wish for."

David Friederich will tell his daughters more stories today, rejoicing in a long life of love and happiness. As always, he speaks openly and honestly about his condition, about his final farewell. "I won't be here much longer," he said. "But hopefully, by writing down my experiences, they'll always be around."

Chad Morelli Of the Suburban Journals. A father's story. Granite City Press Record. Sunday, Jun. 18 2006.

top of page

back a page