Phil Davies
Age: 85
Born: Jan. 12, 1925
Hometown: Pasadena
Residence: Rancho Mirage
Military branch: U.S. Navy; PT-192
Years served: December 1942- March 1946
Rank: Motor machinist mate second class
Family: Wife, Appie; three children, Michael Davies of Pasadena, Kimberly O'Brien of Northridge, and John Davies of San Diego; three grandchildren.
About this series
Staff writer Denise Goolsby will profile desert veterans from World War II through the end of 2010 — the 65th anniversary of the end of the war. Contact her at (760) 778-4587 or via e-mail at denise.goolsby@thedesertsun.com
Coming tomorrow
U.S. Army veteran William McLain of Palm Springs
LEARN MORE: Read about other Coachella Valley residents who served in World War II at mydesert.com/wwii
More
Phil Davies was a member of a PT boat crew that knocked out more than 20 Japanese troop and supply ships in the South Pacific during World War II.
While the men on deck fired on the enemy, Davies, a motor machinist mate second class, was down below in the engine room, making sure the boat was running in top form.
“I never knew what went on topside until we came off of patrol, and then I was scared when I found out where the hell we had been,” Davies said.
Davies was stationed on the tiny island of Mios Woendi, “a coral sand spit,” he said, off the coast of New Guinea.
“They sent me up there as a replacement,” he said. He was assigned to Squadron 12 and joined the crew of PT-192.
The swift PT boats patrolled the waters around the islands of New Guinea and the Philippines, intercepting and destroying Japanese ships trying to deliver supplies to their troops.
“We came up (the coast of) New Guinea and cut off their ships,” he said. “We'd hit these barges and small craft and sink 'em.”
PT-192 was among the many patrol torpedo boats used to watch for and report on the position of the Japanese fleet as it made its way to Surigao Strait during the Battle of Leyte Gulf — considered to be the largest naval battle of World War II and one of the largest in history.
“We reported their progress reported their position,” he said. “We'd go out and make a run on them, shoot their floodlights out and they'd shoot our floodlights out.”
PT-192 strafed the shoreline of islands including Cebu — one of the many islands inhabited by the Japanese.
“They would return fire from the beach and we'd blow the smithereens out of them,” he said.
Davies enlisted in the Navy when he was 17, but had to wait until he was 18 to officially join the ranks. He signed up early because he wanted no part of the Army.
“I wasn't about to be drafted and end up in a mud hole,” he said.
Davies, who liked boats and machinery, volunteered for submarine or PT boat service.
“I went in and flunked the eye examine for submarines,” he said.
It wasn't a big disappointment, because Davies was enamored with the PT boats.
“I'd read about them,” he said. “It was a boat and it was fast and small. None of that battleship stuff.”
“I was in the gunboat era of PTs,” he said. “They got rid of the torpedo tubes and loaded (the boat) with guns.”
The four torpedos were moved topside, and if needed, could be manually released from the deck of the boat.
“You pull the lever and they just slide off in the water while (the boat) was running,” he said, describing the procedure.
The heavily armed, 80-foot-long by 20-foot-wide boat was outfitted with firepower including 20 and 40 mm cannons and eight .50-caliber guns.
“With eight .50s, you could sink any Japanese ship,” he said. “We never used the torpedos. We carried them just in case.”
The PT boat was built to hold nine enlisted men and two officers, Davies said, but PT-192 carried a crew of 14 — three officers and 11 enlisted men.
Davies said he slept on deck, because it was too hot below.
“It was so nice at night,” he said. “The nice, cool breezes blowing across you — except when it rained.”
The salt-encrusted sailors spent most of their time shirtless, in undershorts and cut-off combat boots.
“Our supplies were few and far between,” he said. So when a cruiser or other light craft was seen nearby, the PT boat pulled alongside and asked for provisions — surprising their fellow sailors with their bedraggled appearance.
Someone from the cruiser would say, “‘You guys down there — what navy do you belong to?'” Davies said. “‘Don't you have an officer on there?'
“Our skipper was a grouchy guy with his shirt full of salt,” Davies said, laughing.
Bathing was a luxury — when they weren't on the ship.
Davies recalled a time at Ormoc Bay in Leyte.
“Oh, the great fresh water showers,” he said.
An artesian well provided a refreshing alternative to the men's usual bathing regimen.
“Instead of taking a salt water bath oh, that fresh water felt so good,” he said.
If the men were on patrol and a rain squall was sighted, the skipper would turn the PT toward the rainy patch of sky.
“The skipper would go idling along,” he said. “Everybody would take off their clothes,” and take a rain shower.
Advice from a skipper helped Davies decide his career path.
“He said, ‘You're right about not wanting to be an engineer, engineers deal with things. You want to be an architect — architects deal with people.'
“I went back to school, graduated from USC with a bachelor's degree in architecture,” he said. He earned a master's degree in architecture from Cal Poly Pomona, launching a 50-year career as an architect.
