THE SWAMP ANGELS

Brad Goins Thursday, January 21, 2016 Comments Off on THE SWAMP ANGELS
THE SWAMP ANGELS

IN WWII, A HUNDRED AREA VOLUNTEERS BANDED TOGETHER TO KEEP NAZIS OFF THE SOUTHWEST LOUISIANA COAST

BY BRAD GOINS

In 1944, Collier Magazine called them “the most unusual military outfit to serve in the war.”

They were the Swamp Angels of Grand Chenier, La. — a group of 100 men who patrolled the beaches of Southwest Louisiana during World War II.

The Uboat -- the scourge of the Gulf Coast in 1941 & ‘42.

The Uboat — the scourge of the Gulf Coast in 1941 & ‘42.

What made them so “unusual” that they drew the attention of the then-popular national magazine Collier? Well, they had never been through boot camp. They’d never lived in barracks. They’d had no formal training in anti-submarine attack techniques or even the most basic combat attack maneuvers.

Almost all of them were members of a group little-known to Collier readers — the Cajuns. Many of them spoke only French.

None of them had been drafted. They were an all-volunteer force.

They relied not on modern military technology, but on the old bayou and Cajun techniques of using horses, dogs and pirogues for maneuvering the waterways of the swamp lands. They may have seemed unusual indeed to big city writers and editors who had no idea what a “pirogue” was.

The unorthodox quasi-military group began to come together in 1942, when German Uboats in the Gulf of Mexico were endangering ships there. Residents on the Louisiana coast were, quite naturally, deeply concerned about German infiltration or sabotage on the Louisiana coast.

When the VIIC — the “workhorse” of Uboats — glided into the Gulf of Mexico, it brought with it 18 torpedoes and 26 mines. And the threat was even greater than that, as Uboats tended to travel in groups, which were known as “Wolfpacks.”

In spite of the fearsome reputation of these crafts, they did have some limitations.

Because their battery power was limited, Uboats tended to move on the surface of the water under the power of diesel fuel. Thus, they were not usually silent.

Also, in the early years of the war, Uboat crews could do little more with their weaponry than launch it or drop it. It was only in the last years of the war that technological innovation enabled Uboat operators to become extremely accurate in the aiming of their weapons.

Still, it’s hard to exaggerate the public’s fear of the havoc the Uboat could wreak on maritime commerce. British war leader Winston Churchill was once quoted as saying that the Uboat was the “only thing” in World War II that “frightened” him.

The Threat  In The Gulf

In his history of the U.S. Coast Guard station at Biloxi, Air Force Lt. Col. Ted Allan Morris, Ret., tells the story of the German threat:

A Uboat, sunken south of the Mississippi Delta.

A Uboat, sunken south of the Mississippi Delta.

“Throughout 1942, German submarines were having a field day along the U.S. east coast, sinking many ships. They also moved into the Gulf of Mexico, concentrating on the shipping ports of Tampa, Mobile, the Mississippi Delta, Port Arthur and Houston.

“They scored heavily against ships steaming independently, since initially there were no efforts to form convoys or to give merchant ships the protection of warships in American waters.

“In addition, there were very few aircraft equipped to hunt and sink submarines, and effective tactics still had to be devised. In those early days, tactics were often, for both warships and aircraft, ‘If you see an enemy submarine, try to sink it somehow.’

“The Germans were winning, and shipping had to have more aerial coverage. While developing the convoy system, along with more effective anti-submarine tactics, everyone made do with what they had at hand.

“In December, 1941, the Coast Guard began anti-submarine patrols from Biloxi … None [of its airplanes] were designed to be equipped with armament or depth bombs … Several jury-rigged systems were utilized until more sophisticated systems were developed and installed. The aiming of depth charges relied on the same seaman’s eye used to drop message blocks to the shrimping fleet.”

The Coast Guard Takes On The Nazis

As 1942 wore on, the damage in the Gulf of Mexico became severe. In mid-May of 1942, Uboats sank the S.S. David McKelvey and the S.S. William C. McTarnahan in a location 50 miles south of the Mississippi Delta. The boats were sunk within 72 hours of each other.

Shortly thereafter, the freighter S.S. Heredia was sunk south of Atchafalaya Bay.

In July, the S.S. Robert E. Lee was hit 200 miles south of Biloxi. Fortunately, the boat did not sink.

In a three-hour operation, the Coast Guard flew 300 survivors, all of whom were coated in the oil that floated around the stricken boat, to hospitals in New Orleans.

The Biloxi Coast Guard Air Base in 1941.

The Biloxi Coast Guard Air Base in 1941.

It seemed that it was only a matter of time until the Coast Guard encountered a Uboat in the Gulf. When it happened, it happened in those waters south of the Mississippi Delta that the Germans seemed to love so much.

Pilot H. White was flying a Grumman J4F-1, which carried a single depth charge of 325 pounds (and no other device for a attacking a boat  or submarine). There was no sighting mechanism for the depth charge. The pilot had to drop it simply according to sight.

When White sighted the Uboat in the Gulf waters, it made a sudden and sharp dive to avoid attack. White chose to approach aggressively at a very low altitude.

In spite of the Uboat’s vigorous attempt at evasion, White made a solid hit on the tail of the craft. Although debris floated to the surface, the hit was not verified until the war was over.

For his work, White received the Distinguished Flying Cross. He likewise had the distinction of being the only Coast Guard pilot to sink a German submarine during World War II. And he did it all with nothing but eye-sight.

`Win’ HAWKINS: Duck Hunter And Would-Be Player

Meanwhile, a leading citizen of Lafayette had been working concertedly to keep the chaos and danger of the Uboat attacks off the coasts of Southwest Louisiana.

William Winford “Win” Hawkins, a retired Lafayette oil man and a diehard Louisiana duck hunter, was working in New Orleans with the U.S. Coast Guard during the time the Uboat scare spread through coastal Louisiana.

Hawkins seems to have gone into the war with a significant influence on the U.S. military. In her blog on Cajun culture (“On The Bayou …”), “MizMa” says that at the beginning of the war period, she attended a wedding party in Abbeville at the same time that Hawkins was entertaining members of the “military brass.” MizMa says that at the time, Hawkins was a friend of Gen. Dwight Eisenhower, who would go on to become the head of Allied forces in the European Theater in World War II. (It’s worth noting that some victims of Uboat attacks had been hospitalized in Abbeville — a circumstance that was highly publicized in the Houma Press.)

When Hawkins offered the U.S. Coast Guard in New Orleans the use of his hunting camp in Grand Chenier in Cameron Parish as a base of operations, he got a cold reception at first.

Hawkins may have been moved to make the unusual offer when he’d heard reports of a Coast Guard discovery of mysterious footprints on a remote Vermillion Parish coast. The Coast Guard had speculated the prints may have been made by Uboat crew members trying to find fresh water. The incident is described in the book The Cajuns: Americanization of a People by Shane K. Bernard.

Could the Coast Guard have known more than it was letting on? After all, could a set of footprints really be so menacing?

At any rate, it was a report delivered at a meeting of customs and Coast Guard officials conducted at the time that spurred the U.S. Coast Guard to take the extraordinary measures Win Hawkins proposed to protect the Louisiana coast.

One official in attendance at the meeting said he had picked up two hitchhikers on Highway 90 who spoke little English but were fluent in German. He said they told him a story of being delivered to SWLA by a convoluted scheme involving Spanish and Cuban boats and a lot of swimming in bayous.

When the two men were asked how many were in their group, they answered 26. The 26 German-speaking men, who one assumes must have been saboteurs, were all grouped together in the Big Bayou Constance area. If their claims of having swum a great deal in treacherous coastal waters was true, they may have been tired and disoriented — and hence willing to accept a ride from a potentially hostile American. They said they walked in pairs and hid in ditches along the highway when they weren’t walking.

It’s said that this incident unnerved the Coast Guard and immediately sparked an interest in Hawkins’ offer. In fact, so enthusiastic was the Coast Guard that it commissioned Hawkins and put him in a Coast Guard uniform immediately.

Hawkins was told to put together a team in his Grand Chenier hunting camp. Anything he needed, the Coast Guard would gladly provide. Members of Hawkins’ group would have the job of patrolling the coasts of Southwest Louisiana.

Come One, Come All

Most men in and around Grand Chenier volunteered for the patrol duty. There was no age cut-off. One Swamp Angel was aged 65.

An unknown Swamp Angel patrols on horseback.

An unknown Swamp Angel patrols on horseback.

Men patrolled on horseback or on foot; some brought dogs along. Inductees preferred their own horses to those offered by the U.S. military, as they felt the military horses would not be able to adjust to the bayou mosquitos.

Many of the volunteers spoke only French.

Age wasn’t a barrier; neither was any sort of physical limitation. Those who’d been classified as 4F by the U.S. Armed Forces were welcome to serve.

There was only one requirement: that the inductees know the terrain. They had to know the layout and workings of the bayous and cheniers. As we’ll soon see, many of the rescue operations they wound up undertaking were necessary because of the dangerous terrain of the area.

The patrols were walking the beaches of Cameron Parish within 48 hours of Hawkins’ commission.

MizMa says the Swamp Angels worked 12-hour shifts and received $21 a month in pay. Those who patrolled on horseback swapped out every eight hours. During their off hours, they sometimes engaged in horse races.

Hawkins built three 50-feet-high towers that were used for observation of the beach.

Eventually, lookout stations were built at Johnson Bayou, Cameron, Creole, Big Bayou Constance, Rollover Bayou, Mulberry and Chenier au Tigre. Each had a radio and a look-out tower. Wives of recruits cooked meals at some stations.

The group’s reach spread as far east as Southwest Pass in Vermillion Parish. In sum, the Swamp Angels’ membership may have totaled about a hundred.

Nazis, No; Rescues, Yes

“We never saw any trace of a submarine,” said former Swamp Angel Anthony “Toonie” Segura when he was interviewed in 2001 by the Houma Courier. Segura was 80 at the time.

What the shore patrollers did manage to do was rescue Army-Airmen who crashed in flights from the Army-Air Force base in Lake Charles.

A Grumman J4F-1 — the only Coast Guard plane to take out a Uboat.

A Grumman J4F-1 — the only Coast Guard
plane to take out a Uboat.

In one episode, one man (and possibly two) died in an off-shore crash; others were very seriously injured by burns, and by saw grass and mosquitos they encountered when they found their way inland and became lost in the bayou. They were in desperate states when the Swamp Angels located them and brought them to medical care centers.

Segura said the Swamp Angels were told by the military to stay away from one crash scene — perhaps because experimental equipment was involved. When the experimental craft being used by the military to navigate the bayou failed, the Swamp Angels were then invited back, and wound up rescuing both the victims and their would-be rescuers.

The Swamp Angels were the only U.S. military unit in World War II whose members were recruited, served and were discharged at the site of their homes. Because of their quasi-official statues, the group was called various names at various times — the Coast Guard Auxiliary, Beach Patrol and Cajun Coast Guard.

It’s said the name “Swamp Angels” was concocted by the airmen who’d been saved by the group. By the end of World War II, the Swamp Angels had saved a total of 35 Army-Airmen on the coasts of Southwest Louisiana.

After The War

After the war, Hawkins remained more interested than ever in hunting ducks in the Grand Chenier area. As he expanded his camp into a lodge, he employed members of his former beach patrol group as the guides.

Friends who were pleased with the lodge lobbied Hawkins to form a hunting club; he complied, and the Oak Grove Club was formed.

It was completely destroyed by Hurricane Audrey in 1957. Hawkins responded by building an even bigger club.

It did not survive Hurricane Rita in 2005. Some members claim the destruction was so severe that only a few shotgun shells and dishes were found on the site.

This time, it was necessary to rebuild on a new 10-acre tract in Little Chenier. When construction was completed in 2007, the Oak Grove Hunting Lodge stood 3 1/2 feet above the high water marks of Hurricane Rita.

Former members of the Swamp Angels may no longer grace the rooms and grounds of the Oak Grove Hunting Lodge. After all, if the records are correct, the youngest of the Swamp Angels would be 91 if he were still alive today.

But who knows? Even at this late date, secret stories of the almost unknown World War II conflict of the Gulf of Mexico and the Louisiana coast may still be passed around in front of the fireplace late at night.

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