Bare-Faced Messiah (PDF) - Apologetics Index

without dark glasses. Moulton, understandably, was impressed.
By judiciously lacing his conversation with jargon and anecdotes, Ron possessed an uncanny
ability to be totally convincing. It was soon 'common knowledge' at the Center that he had served on
destroyers; indeed, said Moulton, he was 'used as something of an authority in the classroom'.[5]
While they were training together in Miami, mastering the intricacies of tracking and attacking
enemy submarines, Moulton was treated to further details of his new friend's astonishing exploits
in the early months of the war. His strong recollection was that Ron was a reticent sort of hero,
reluctant to talk about himself, but over the weeks his story came out bit by bit.
On the day the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, it seemed that Ron was landed from the Edsel on
the north coast of Java in the Dutch East Indies, not far from the port of Surabaya, to carry out a
secret mission. The Edsel was sunk a couple of days later [not quite accurate - she was sunk in
March 1942] and went down with all hands. When the Japanese occupied the island, Ron took off
for the hills and lived rough in the jungle. Once he was almost caught by a Japanese patrol and
was hit in the back by machine-gun fire before he was able to make his escape. Those wounds
still troubled him, he confessed. He often suffered severe pain in his right side and the bullets had
damaged his urinary system, making it difficult for him to urinate. He was in bad shape for quite a
while after being shot, but eventually he teamed up with another officer and they constructed a raft
on which they sailed across the shark-infested Timor Sea to within one hundred miles of the
Australian coast, where they were picked up by a British or Australian destroyer. It was, Moulton
thought, a remarkable piece of navigation.
In January 1943, Ron was sent on a ten-day anti-submarine warfare course at the Fleet Sound
School in Key West, Florida, prior to being posted to Portland, Oregon, as prospective
Commanding Officer of USS PC-815, a 280-ton submarine-chaser under construction at the Albina
Engine and Machine Works. Ron asked Moulton if he would be his Executive Officer. Moulton was
really hoping for a ship of his own, but he so admired Ron that he agreed.
While the PC-815 was being built, the two officers found time to enjoy life a little in the pleasant city
of Portland. Moulton's wife came over from the East Coast and Polly was able to visit from
Bremerton, which was only 150 miles to the north. As a foursome they enjoyed each other's
company and frequently had dinner together, despite rationing, in one of the restaurants
overlooking the green valley of the Willamette river and the distant snow-capped peak of Mount
Hood. On one well-remembered occasion, the prospective Commanding Officer of PC-815 and his
Executive Officer drove up to Seattle for a dance at the tennis club. Ron was wearing his mysterious
dark glasses, as usual, and was being gently teased by one of the women in their group. When he
explained why they were necessary, the woman raised her eyebrows as if she did not believe him.
Moulton was quite shocked. However, to prove what he was saying, Ron took off his glasses and
within five or ten minutes his eyes began watering and were clearly sore. His friend was deeply
gratified.
At ten o'clock on Tuesday 20 April 1943, the USS PC-815 was commissioned. Ron noted the event
in a pencilled entry on the first page of the ship's log book, signing his name with a proud flourish.
Two days later, the Oregon Journal published a photograph of Ron and Moulton in uniform with an
article about the commissioning of the new ship. Ron wore his dark glasses and an intrepid
expression, his coat collar was turned up and he gripped a pipe in his right hand: he looked just
like a man ready to go to war.
In the story, Ron was described as a 'veteran sub-hunter of the battles of the Pacific and Atlantic . . .
an old band at knocking tails off enemy subs'. To add a little local interest, it seems he told the