Book Review: From Yeomanettes to Fighter Jets: A Century of Women in the U.S. Navy

by Randy Carol Goguen
Reviewed by Lee Duckworth, HRNM docent

From Yeomanettes to Fighter Jets covers a century of the role of women in the U.S. Navy as author Randy Carol Goguen paints a vivid canvas of their storied advancement. Her book is divided into four phases: 1917-1947 militarization; 1948-1966 marginalization; 1967-1993 transition; and 1994 to present. Goguen’s book goes into great detail surrounding the economic and political conditions, and cultural and technological changes that both plagued and advanced their cause.

The path to progress for Navy women is highlighted by examples of some unlikely leaders with unique personalities and views that bolstered women’s rights over the course of the century. She opens the book in 1917 with Josephus Daniels, the secretary of the navy who acted independently of the secretary of war and others, including senior navy officers. Daniels took advantage of a gap in law (others later do the same) with the Naval Reserve Act of 1916 which didn’t specify sex as defining eligibility to bring women into the navy. Eventually, 11,880 women served as yeoman (F) during WWI and the author details how the exigency of war prevented others from overriding this new policy.

Four Yeoman (F) in the late 1910s (NHHC)

Though openings were advertised for numerous positions, WWI Navy women were assigned mostly administrative duties. The author’s premise is that new technology, such as the typewriter and telephone, opened opportunities for women and, as there were many unknowns as to how this technology would be used, little prejudice against women had developed. Despite the overall satisfaction of the performance of the yeomen (F), they were rapidly discharged at the end of the war.

Goguen’s research reveals that during the inter-war period, only two offices (Bureau of Aeronautics and Office of the Chief of Naval Operations) were “positive” about allowing women in the Navy. As aviation was a “new” industry, there were no preexisting barriers or traditions in that field to break down. A wide variety of billets were opened to women but they (other than nurses) were not allowed to serve outside the continental United States or aboard vessels or combat aircraft. Additional detail and discussion of the WWII era would have provided a more even balance to the book.

Members of the first class of WAVES to graduate from the Aviation Metalsmith School, at the Naval Air Technical Training Center, Norman, Oklahoma, 1943. (NHHC)

The concept of separate spheres for men and women enjoyed a resurgence in the post-WWII era, marginalizing military women for the ensuing three decades. In June 1948 the first peacetime draft was initiated, with a two percent ceiling established for women in the total force. Several factions wanted to retain women in a “reserve status” while others felt a need for regular commissions. Most of the service leaders supported a regular commission for women, though Congress did not. President Harry Truman signed the 1948 Women’s Armed Service Integration Act, which set permanent status for women in regular components in the armed forces, though they were prohibited from going to sea in ships other than transports and hospital ships. Yet, two years later when the Korean War broke out, an active-duty recall was established which included women.

By the mid-1960s, despite much controversy over the Equal Rights Amendment (ERA), cultural attitudes toward women in the Navy had changed little since 1917. The author goes into great depth as to how Chief of Naval Operations Adm. Elmo Zumwalt Jr. charted a new course for Navy women by expanding opportunities. As the advent of the telephone in the WWI era provided a viable career path for Navy women, development of the Integrated Undersea Surveillance System (IUSS) specialty did the same in the 1970s.

The final section of her book goes into significant detail of the turmoil of the late 1980s and the initiatives and changes to allow women on combat ships and aircraft. During those strained times, Congress, SecNav, CNO, and presidential influence wavered greatly, depending on who was in office. The Tailhook scandal of 1991 demonstrated a catastrophic failure of leadership, yet finally opened the door for Navy women to go to combat.

Airman Ora Howard, Plane Captain, (left), and Airman Grisselle Martinez, perform a routine maintenance on an A-7 Corsair II aircraft, November 1988. (US Navy)

The author delineates the rapid progress in the 1990s and recognition that successful integration could be achieved in units that possessed an excellent command climate and strong leadership. By the early 2000s, successful integration in aircraft and ships was commonplace and warfare specialties became available to women in nearly every area of the U.S. Navy. The integration of women into the Navy succeeded despite the cultural challenges. Set in motion by the exigency of war, progress in the first half of the twentieth century and scandals in the second half led to eventual qualification for sea-going and combat assignments.

CNO Admiral Lisa Francetti (US Navy)

This well researched and written book is a must-read and belongs in the library of every Navy person—man and woman.

What’s down there? Part I: USS Jacob Jones

By Zach Smyers
HRNM Educator

In the 21st century, the technology used in underwater archaeology and deep sea diving has advanced significantly. Historic ships are being discovered in their final resting place regularly. This is the first in a series of blogs about recent underwater discoveries.

On August 11, 2022, a team of British divers from the vessel Darkstar discovered USS Jacob Jones (DD 61). The ship is 60 miles south of Newlyn (in the Cornwall region) and lies 400 feet below the ocean’s surface. The expedition’s divers were able to confirm that what they found was indeed the Jacob Jones when they discovered the ship’s bell. During the expedition, the divers also inspected one of the ship’s boilers along with the steam turbines.

Diver Dom Robinson investigates the wreck of Jacob Jones (dailymail.co.uk)

The Tucker-class destroyer Jacob Jones was built in Camden, New Jersey. Named after Commodore Jacob Jones, who served during the War of 1812, the ship was commissioned on February 10, 1916. Under the command of Lieutenant Commander David Bagley and with a crew of seven officers and 103 enlisted Sailors, Jacob Jones sailed for Ireland in April 1917 as the United States officially entered World War I.

USS Jacob Jones underway (Navsource)

When Jacob Jones arrived in theater in May 1917, its primary task was to escort Allied convoys and pick up survivors from British merchant ships that had been attacked by German U-boats. Jacob Jones picked up almost 400 survivors from three British ships: Orama, Valetta, and Dalfia. On December 6, 1917, Jacob Jones left Brest, France, bound for Queenstown, Ireland, which was being used by the U.S. Navy as a base during the war. While underway, the ship was hit by a German torpedo twenty miles off the coast of southern England. The torpedo ruptured the ship’s fuel tank, and the ship’s depth charges exploded as it was sinking. Commander Bagley ordered the crew to abandon ship. Jacob Jones sank in eight minutes, taking with it 64 Sailors.

Jacob Jones sinks after being torpedoed (NHHC)

Lieutenant (j.g.) Stanton F. Kalk was officer of the deck when Jacob Jones was hit. He worked tirelessly while in the frigid water to ensure that Sailors were on life rafts or lifeboats, and he eventually died from a combination of exhaustion and exposure to the cold. For his efforts that day, Kalk was awarded the Dinstinguished Service Medal posthumously. U-53, the German U-boat that sank Jacob Jones, radioed the Queenstown base, passing along the final position of the ship. In addition to sending the radio message, U-53 took on two wounded survivors from Jacob Jones: Seaman Second Class Albert De Mello and the ship’s cook, Petty Officer Second Class John Francis Murphy. The actions of Lt. (j.g.) Kalk, and the decision to call in the ship’s location by U-53's commanding officer, helped save the survivors.

Stanton F. Kalk as a midshipman in 1916 (NHHC)

Due to the Sunken Military Craft Act, which was enacted October 28, 2004, Jacob Jones is protected from potential looting and mistreatment. The ship is also still owned by the United States Navy. Therefore, the divers from the vessel Darkstar are working in cooperation with the U.S. Embassy in London and the Naval History and Heritage Command (NHHC). Fulfilling the request of NHHC, the ship’s bell was recovered in 2024 by a salvage unit that is part of the United Kingdom’s Ministry of Defense. Due to the ship’s status as a war grave, the salvage unit surveyed the site using remotely operated equipment, making sure not to disturb anything on the ship. Prior to leaving the wreck site, the salvage team placed a wreath with an American flag to honor the Sailors who were lost with Jacob Jones.

At this time, the ship’s bell is with Wessex Archaeology in England. There are plans for a formal ceremony to hand over the bell to NHHC later this year. Upon completion of the ceremony, NHHC’s Underwater Archaeology Branch will take custody of the bell for further conservation. The discovery of Jacob Jones helps bring closure regarding the story of the ship, and the recovery of the bell enables the public to pay tribute to the Sailors lost on that fateful day.

USS Jacob Jones's bell (USNI)

Before Electric Light: Ships’ Lanterns in the HRNM Collection, Part 2

By William Clarkson
HRNM Educator

Front view of Signal Lantern from HMAS Australia, manufactured in 1912 (William Clarkson)

Communicating at sea can be difficult in the best conditions, but what did Sailors do before the integration of electricity and radio into a ship’s infrastructure? Crews utilized many methods of passing messages, one of which was oil burning signal lanterns. The lantern pictured above is the second from the museum’s collection to be featured in our look into lighting before electricity and is used for signaling other ships and observers. Communicating with light sources continues today with electric signal lamps, but the fundamentals of their use began with fuel-burning lanterns.

Rear view of Signal Lantern from HMAS Australia, showing the adjustment port and key-tool, as well as instruction panel (William Clarkson)

Produced in Birmingham, England by Griffiths and Brown Ltd in 1912, this copper and brass lantern was hand made for use by the Australian Navy. Standing about 20.5” inches tall and approximately 10” in diameter, a series of fins that acts as a shutter sits behind the thick glass lens. The shutter is attached to an exterior flipper that when toggled produces short or long flashes of light, or visible Morse code. The lantern opens via a sliding door on the rear and reveals a removable fuel tank and burner which, when removed, provides access to the shutter and lens. The rear of the lantern also includes a keyhole, allowing for regulation of the flame inside. The lantern is affixed with a stamped plate instructing, “Suspend lantern when in use, if vessel is rolling through a total arc of more than 20 degrees,” a reminder of the realities and dangers of seafaring.

Letter certifying this lantern was taken from HMAS Australia (William Clarkson)

HRNM’s collection also includes a letter, dated 11 November 1942, certifying that this lantern was retrieved from His Majesty’s Australian Ship Australia, prior to its scuttling in 1924. The letter is signed by a Mr. Brewster of the Royal Australian Naval Store Depot at Darling Island, Sydney. In the letter, Mr. Brewster makes a point of mentioning that HMAS Australia was scuttled in accordance with the Washington Disarmament Agreement of 1922-23, an agreement to prevent a naval arms race after the First World War. He states at the close of his letter, “The Governments of the World, at that time, thought that this procedure was in the Cause of Peace. DIIS ALITER VISUM!! (The Gods thought otherwise).” The letter’s envelope, also in our collection, is printed with the words “Hand Message,” and “On His Majesty’s Service,” providing a nice reminder that the message inside is an official missive of a foreign government.

Envelope from the lantern's donation (William Clarkson)

This lantern saw use aboard HMAS Australia, an Indefatigable-class battlecruiser commissioned in 1913. It served as the Australian Navy’s first flagship. HMAS Australia saw action during the First World War, in both the Pacific and Atlantic, but was absent from the Battle of Jutland, as the ship was in port undergoing repair after a collision with HMAS New Zealand. After the end of the war, HMAS Australia returned to its namesake nation and was scuttled in 1924 off Sydney Heads, near Sydney, Australia.

HMAS Australia, undated (Australian Navy)

Even with the advent of new technologies at the turn of the 20th century, older and tested methods, like oil-burning signal lanterns, remained in use throughout navies across the globe for years to come. Such devices were kept and maintained as redundancies in case of equipment failure, ensuring that communications and operations could continue. Artifacts like this lantern serve as a window into bygone eras, as well as reminders that the skills honed by past Sailors are still with us, in many cases with few, if any, changes.

Before Electric Light: Ships’ Lanterns in the HRNM Collection, Part 1

By William Clarkson
HRNM Educator

Front view of Masthead or ‘Steaming’ Lantern now in HRNM’s collection (William Clarkson)

Lanterns have been in use on ships for thousands of years, both for providing vision, and preventing collisions at sea. Today, electric lights fill this roll, and are employed in standard practice with strict protocols. Before the transition to electricity, lanterns came in many sizes shapes and styles, and used many fuel sources, including whale oil and later, kerosene. In an oil-burning lantern, a wick is partially suspended into the fuel tank, and the exposed portion of the wick is lit. The flame causes the oil to be carried up through the saturated wick, keeping it burning without destroying the wick’s material. The masthead, or ‘steaming’ lantern, pictured above and below, is part of the Hampton Roads Naval Museum's collection and is a fine example of this fuel-based lighting.

Rear view of lantern. Notice the access door at lower right, allowing for adjustment of the flame and brightness.
(William Clarkson)

Produced in 1914/15 by the Telford Grier and Mackay Company in Glasgow, Scotland, this lantern is hand made with copper, brass, and a glass lens. It measures 12 inches in diameter and 22 inches tall, weighing approximately 35 pounds. The exhaust cylinder atop the lantern is stamped “1914,” while the sliding back plate is stamped “1915,” along with the serial number C1154. Metal rings are attached to the side of the lantern to secure it to the foremast during ship operations. It is important to note that a lantern like this one is not used to provide visibility for Sailors on the ship; rather, it is meant to help other vessels identify the ship’s presence and heading in low visibility conditions. A masthead lantern could be placed anywhere along the fore and aft centerline of larger vessels, provided it shows unbroken light and is visible in an arc from right ahead, as well as at an angle from either side of the ship.

Diagram of Queen Elizabeth-class ships, showing the position of a masthead lantern at the foremast and orientation of visibility off the port and starboard from ahead (Wikipedia)

Packing note from 1945, showing provenance for this lantern as being from the HMS Queen Elizabeth (William Clarkson)

Accompanying this lantern is a packing note dated December 18th, 1945, identifying it as a ‘steaming’ lantern from His Majesty’s Ship Queen Elizabeth, a ‘Fast Battleship’ in the Royal Navy. It certifies that the lantern was transferred in one case (with measurements), from an officer of the British Admiralty Delegation in Washington DC, where it likely ended up after removal from HMS Queen Elizabeth, during the ship’s repair and upgrade at the Norfolk Naval Shipyard between 1942-1943.

HMS Queen Elizabeth as seen June 1943 after repair and overhaul at the Norfolk Navy Shipyard (Naval History and Heritage Command)

Completed in 1915, HMS Queen Elizabeth saw action in the Dardanelles during the Gallipoli Campaign of the First World War, providing shore bombardment during an attempt to force the straits. From there it joined the Grand Fleet in the Atlantic, but was absent from the battle of Jutland while undergoing minor repairs. HMS Queen Elizabeth served as the Atlantic Fleet’s flagship until 1924. After a refit, HMS Queen Elizabeth joined the Mediterranean fleet in 1941, where it was mined by Italian forces in December, off the coast of Alexandria, Egypt. From here Queen Elizabeth was transported to Norfolk Naval Shipyard, Virginia, for a year and a half of repairs. During this time, the ship was upgraded to electric lighting systems, and the lantern now in HRNM’s collection was removed. After returning to service in the Pacific until the end of World War Two, HMS Queen Elizabeth was sold for scrap in 1948.

While HMS Queen Elizabeth was not part of the United States Navy, the lantern now in HRNM’s collection gives us a glimpse at what contemporary U.S. vessels might have used. It also provides us with the opportunity to admire a bit of skilled handcraft in an age of automated production. Lastly, it allows us to connect with navies and Sailors around the globe, whose experiences at sea are often universal.

Douglas MacArthur and Chester Nimitz: Five-Star Leadership, Part 1

By Lee Duckworth
HRNM Volunteer 

A study of the background and early careers of General Douglas MacArthur and Admiral Chester Nimitz is essential to understanding the leadership styles and personalities of the two senior five-star officers in the Second World War’s Pacific Theater. MacArthur appears to have been born with the proverbial “silver spoon” and Nimitz came from a hard scrabble background. The marked differences in their upbringing and personality traits are reflected in their dissimilar leadership styles, yet both are venerated for their accomplishments during the Second World War.

The Early Years

MacArthur has an almost unmatched pedigree. On his paternal side, his grandfather was Lieutenant Governor of the state of Wisconsin and a Justice of the Supreme Court of Washington DC; his father was a Medal of Honor recipient and three-star army general (highest rank in the US Army at that time). From his mother’s side he was related to Winston Churchill and Franklin Roosevelt. MacArthur’s mother, Mary “Pinky” Hardy MacArthur, played prominently in his career and unhesitatingly reminded senior officers who had served under her husband to see that her son was promoted. His father, Arthur MacArthur, was stationed throughout the West during the late 1800s, and that was the place where Douglas learned first-hand about riding horses, the cavalry, and the army.

A young Douglas MacArthur (Wikimedia Commons)

MacArthur was seemingly a shoo-in for West Point, although it took three attempts for him to be accepted. His father was stationed in the Philippines during much of the time Douglas was at the military academy, so his mother decided to spend all four years there and met almost daily with her son. Despite the hazing he received for being the son of a senior officer and having his mother watch over him, he rose to be the First Captain (head of the Corps of Cadets) and graduated first in the class of 1903.

By contrast, Nimitz came from a completely opposite background. His family was very poor and his father died before he was born. He too was raised by a strong mother, Anna Nimitz, who concentrated on keeping her son physically fit. Nimitz was strongly influenced by his paternal grandfather, Charles Henry Nimitz, who was a former Texas Ranger and Confederate Civil War veteran. The grandfather had served in the German merchant marine and was an innkeeper who loved to tell stories of his life at sea and in the military. He counseled his grandson to “…learn all you can, then do your best and don’t worry—especially about things over which you have no control.”[1]

Midshipman Chester Nimitz with his grandfather, c. 1905
(Naval History and Heritage Command)

Nimitz grew up in the land-locked German immigrant city of Fredericksburg, Texas, and was an excellent student. His family could not afford college so an appointment to a military academy was Chester’s only avenue for further education. He studied hard for the better part of a year in preparation for the Naval Academy’s entrance exam, besting all other candidates and was admitted to the class of 1905.

Commissioning and Early Careers

Nimitz in 1905
(Wikimedia Commons)

Both men were extremely intelligent and academy classmates sensed they were destined for great military futures. Nimitz graduated 7th in his class and immediately after graduation went to sea on a destroyer. He yearned for command as a young officer, receiving his first command as the CO of USS Decatur, a torpedo boat destroyer. As a 22-year-old ensign he managed to run it aground in the Philippines and was court-martialed for the incident. He accepted full responsibility and learned to never let down his guard. Because Nimitz had a strong engineering background and proficiency in the German language, in 1913 he was selected to serve in Germany, learning about diesel engines and their application in submarines. He later became a submariner, where he spent the majority of his career prior to reaching flag rank.

MacArthur as a student in 1897
(Wikimedia Commons)

MacArthur elected to go into the Army Corps of Engineers and didn’t distinguish himself initially. While stationed in Washington DC he was more interested in the social scene serving as a temporary aide in the White House--his evaluations reflected his less than enthusiastic interest in engineering. In 1905-1906 he served as aide to his father in the Philippines, and along with his mother, made a nine-month tour of Asia observing military capabilities and operations in various countries from Japan to India. This was the first of his four assignments to Asia, where he fell in love with the culture and people. He had the benefit of learning about leadership from a senior officer perspective at his father’s knee. From him he was urged to be bold, do the unexpected, and to act quickly and decisively.

An added benefit of being the son of a three-star general officer was that Douglas was asked for by name to fill vital positions. The posting that paid the most dividends was to Washington DC in 1912, where he joined the Army Staff and later served as its first Public Relations person (then called the Bureau of Information). He became a favorite of Secretary of War Newton Baker and his career soared.

World War I

MacArthur was in the trenches and on the front lines in Europe in 1917-1918 and was the nation’s most decorated soldier, earning two Distinguished Service Crosses and seven Silver Stars. He was promoted from major to colonel (skipping over Lt Col) and by war’s end, was a brigadier general. MacArthur saw firsthand the futility of fighting from the trenches and the use of direct assault. He applied those lessons in his World War II island-hopping campaigns.

Conversely, during World War I, Nimitz served on a surface ship that never saw combat. He was however, instrumental in pioneering the underway refueling of ships from auxiliary vessels, which stood him in good stead for World War II.

Check back next week for part 2 of the Nimitz and MacArthur story!

[1] Potter, E. B. Nimitz. Naval Institute Press, Annapolis, MD (1976)

USS Langley (CV 1): The Beginning (Part One)

USS Langley (CV 1) with battleships of the fleet in the 1920s. (Naval History and Heritage Command)

By Thomas Grubbs
Contributing Writer

A collier was perhaps the most unprepossessing vessel afloat. Mostly empty space, it plodded from one port to another laden with coal, metallic ores or other bulky cargoes, fuel for the economy. But one collier, laid down as USS Jupiter (AC 3) on October 18, 1911 at Mare Island Naval Yard in Vallejo, California, would go on to become a nautical trailblazer.

The collier USS Jupiter (AC 3) seen in 1913. (Naval History and Heritage Command)

The second of four sister ships, Jupiter was the first vessel in the fleet to be powered by a turbo electric drive. After being commissioned on April 7, 1913, it spent time with the Pacific Fleet before passing through the Panama Canal on Columbus Day 1914, becoming the first ship to transit the Canal from west to east in the process. It would spend the prewar and the First World War years engaged in the hum drum life of a naval collier, enlivened only by a pair of voyages to France in June 1917 and November 1918 carrying a detachment of 129 naval aviators. After supplying coaling services to ships transporting the American Expeditionary Force home, it returned to Norfolk for decommissioning on August 17, 1918. But its story was not to end there.

After the end of the First World War, the five great naval powers gathered in Washington D.C. in early 1921 to attempt to prevent another ruinous naval arms race like that that had led to the recently ended conflict. Most of the resulting arms treaty, colloquially known as the Washington Treaty, dealt with the battleship: entirely appropriate given that vessel’s then central role in the Fleet. However, recent wartime experience had revealed that ship-based aircraft could prove decisive in any future conflict. Therefore, each of the signatories were allowed to convert for experimental purposes several already existing vessels into aircraft carriers under Article VII of the Treaty.

Langley (ex-Jupiter) being converted at Norfolk Naval Shipyard in 1921 (National Naval Aviation Museum via wikipedia)

Because of its relative newness and ease of conversion, Jupiter was chosen to become America’s first aircraft carrier. Renamed Langley after an aviation pioneer on April 11, 1920, the collier would spend the next two years undergoing an extensive conversion at Norfolk Naval Shipyard. It would eventually be recommissioned as USS Langley (CV 1) on March 20, 1922 as an aviation trials ship. Data on everything from flight deck procedures to arrestor gear collected over its career would be the basis for the great carrier fleet that would lead America to victory a generation later. Under the command of Commander Kenneth Whiting, who had originally proposed the conversion of a collier to a carrier, the little Langley set out to face the future.

USS Langley with aircraft aboard in the 1920s (Wikimedia commons)

One Century Ago: Bringing 'Em Back after "The Navy Put 'Em Across"

Front side of a postcard featuring an artwork by Norman Rockwell, used by returning troops to report their arrival in the United States from Europe. This example was sent on May 28, 1919, by Private Howard P. Moyer, of the 111th Engineer Regiment, 36th Division, who was embarked on USS Great Northern (ID # 4569). It was mailed to his sister, Mrs. Edith Folger of Richmond, Indiana. (Donation of Dr. Mark Kulikowski/ Naval History and Heritage Command image)

By M.C. Farrington
HRNM Historian

Naval historians of the First World War tend to gravitate towards great battles such as Jutland and the ferociously frustrating Dardanelles campaign, but these dramatic naval and littoral actions had nothing to do with the U.S. Navy's most decisive contribution to the war, delivering the two-million-man American Expeditionary Force (AEF) to Europe. By this time one hundred years ago, what was then known as the Great War had been over for months, but many of the American Soldiers and Marines who fought its final, bloody campaigns were still coming home.

Front side of a postcard used by returning troops to report their arrival in the United States from Europe. This example was sent on August 6, 1919, reporting the arrival of a member of the 34th Engineer Regiment at Norfolk, Virginia, on USS Texan (ID # 1354). It was mailed to his mother, Mrs. Arthur Dean of Nevada, Iowa. (Donation of Dr. Mark Kulikowski/ Naval History and Heritage Command image)

Although many different kinds of American surface combatants played important roles in containing the German submarine threat and saving Great Britain from potential starvation, the U.S. Atlantic Fleet's Cruiser and Transport Force, consisting of 45,000 U.S. naval personnel manning 24 cruisers and 42 transport vessels (many of which were German passenger liners confiscated after the American entry into the war) put an entire American army across the Atlantic, a feat inconceivable to European leaders on all sides of the conflict before the Navy actually accomplished it.

Postcards for virtually every troopship in the Cruiser and Transport Force were produced by enterprising entrepreneurs in 1919 for returning members of the American Expeditionary Force (AEF), plus the warships that were also pressed into service to bring soldiers back to America. USS DeKalb, which brought 8,949 AEF personnel back to America after the Armistice, served as the German auxillary cruiser Prinz Eitel Friedrich, sinking 11 vessels before its crew sought refuge at Norfolk Naval Shipyard in 1915. (Donation of Dr. Mark Kulikowski/ Naval History and Heritage Command image)

Even after American troops irrevocably tipped the balance against Germany and the Cental Powers and the war was ostensibly over, the Navy had much more to do. Even battleships and cruisers were pressed into the effort to bring home the Soldiers and Marines as quickly as possible, which stretched into the summer of 1919.

This hastily-made postcard shows USS Virginia (BB-13), which brought back 5,784 members of the AEF to American shores before resuming its regular duties in July, 1919. (Donation of Dr. Mark Kulikowski/ Naval History and Heritage Command image)

"After the signing of the Armistice," wrote Vice Admiral Albert Gleaves, Cruiser and Transport Force commander, "the United States Transport Fleet expanded still more, and developed into a fleet of 149 ships manned by 4,238 officers and 59,030 men, with the gratifying result that 86.7 per cent[sic] of our overseas army was brought home under the Stars and Stripes."

Such an unprecedented feat was accomplished largely to an unprecedented recruiting effort, one which artists contrubuted to by accentuating the great fun to be had by those who volunteered.  A recruiting poster in our collection by the famous maritime artist Henry Reuterdahl shows a smiling, cheerful Sailor bearing a Soldier across the waves.

(Hampton Roads Naval Museum collection)

Despite the vital job Sailors performed in making sure the AEF returned home safe and sound, many of the volunteers who made it possible felt that the returning Doughboys were basking in the public's adulation at their expense.

Don't take my word for it.  Check out this editorial cartoon from a magazine published at Naval Operating Base Norfolk (now Naval Station Norfolk) during the war:

This editorial cartoon was made as part of a contest for the readers of Navy Life, but so far the issue of the magazine announcing the winner has not been found. (M.C. Farrington/ Courtesy of the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard Museum) 

The similarity between the recruiting poster and the cartoon might be coincidental, but probably not.  The cartoonist, Ensign Adolph Goodwin, had probably seen Reuterdahl's poster. The magazine he worked for, Navy Life, was a short-lived contemporary of The Stars and Stripes, published by the AEF in France by uniformed service members. Although official publications, the editorial policies of Navy Life and Stars and Stripes didn't necessarily adhere to official United States Government policy.

Adolph Goodwin made charactures of Secretary of the Navy Josephus Daniels, among other luminiaries, in a book about his hometown, Who's Who in Raleigh (1916). (Libraty of Congress via Internet Archive/ Hathi Trust)

While famous artists like Henry Reuterdahl produced well-received work presenting the Navy to the public as its leaders wished it to be seen, some lesser-known artists in uniform have bequeathed work that shows us how members of the Navy saw themselves.