Boise Veteran, Smiling Russ Coslett Helps Make Projectiles for Buddies
A silver plate in his back and part of his lumbar vertebrae replaced by hunk of shin bone have made it impossible for smiling Russ Coslett of building 130 to put on his blues and go back to sea.
But Russ, as an eager, loyal young American, is helping his buddies who are still aboard shit by passing them ammunition.
The recent engagment in which the U.S. light cruiser, Boise, sank six Jap warships in the space of twenty-seven minutes, will go down in history books as one of the most spectacular sea battles ever fought.
It was shortly after midnight off Guadalcanal, and the Boise was steaming along at about twenty-five knots in the company of heavy and light cruisers and destroyers.
Aboard her at one of the six-inch gun turrets, was Russ Coslett.
Russ, a native Iowan, enlisted in the navy in December of 1939, and went through boot camp at Great Lakes.
"I got my advanced training and indocrination at Norfolk, Va. Then around June, 1940, I went aboard the Boise at Philadelphia as GM 3c."
Nothing much happened to the Boise till that morning off Guadalcanal. By pure coincidence, she had missed the Japs at every turn at Pearl Harbor and at Manila. The crew, disliking the title, "Reluctant Dragon," which she had been dubbed, were eager and alert.
"It was dark and we could see only the outlines of ships," Russ explained when asked about the detailed account of the battle. "We were pretty busy at that six-inch gun."
It is easy to see how Russ might have been busy. One account of the battle has the Boise's Commanding officer, Captain "Iron" Mike Moran, giving the word to pick out the largest Jap ship and start shooting.
The fact is that the Boise, with her six-inch batteries, sank, in turn, a Jap destoryer with the second, followed, in the course of a few minutes, by two more destoryers, another heavy cruiser, and a light cruiser.
There was a five-minute breather at one time, but aside from that, in the words of one participant, "It was just like shooting clay pigeons. No sooner did you knock one off but another was in your sights."
The Boise took a beating too. An eight-inch shell from a Jap heavy cruiser hit below the water line, and another knocked out two forward turrets. It was one of these hits that put the lights out for Russ.
"I don't remember much after that," he continued, "I know the Boise made New Guinea, and because I was in a hospital there, and I also have a hazy recollection of a plane ride. I really woke up for the first time in a hospital in Bethesda, Md., to learn that I had been flown all the way from Hawaii.
At the hospital in Bethesda, doctors took a good-sized hunk of shrapnel out of his back and in its place put a silver plate. They replaced some of the missing parts by taking a piece of bone from his leg. Upon his release from the hospital, Russ was honorably discharged from the navy.
The account of this overhauling may not be strictly a la Kearney, but Russ doesn't care. He's out there at building 130, helping to load more six-inch shells so that his buddies on the Boise can sink more Jap cruisers.
Analysis:
This is an example of the "hero" style veteran profile. It's very much focused on the trials and tribulations that the veteran has endured and talks about little else. It solidifies the man's identity as a tried and true hero, a man that as proven himself in treacherous battle and come out on top.
Source: Powder Keg, May 19th, 1944, Pg 1
