By Luke Lorenz
Manager of Government Affairs
Navy League of the United States

This is part of an ongoing series, where we look at the lives and legacies of U.S. sea service men and women. 

Growing up in the small steel town of Sharon, Pennsylvania, Neil Jones might not have expected to travel the world, collaborate on cutting-edge new military technologies and even write a book about his experiences (“Random Courses and Scattered Squalls”). But his time in the Merchant Marine and the Navy would chart a life’s journey that is worthy of a book, and one that is well worth reading.

By the age of 16, Neil was looking to do something extraordinary. Despite a bustling steel industry, teenagers in Sharon were typically stuck with unappealing “grunt” jobs. Neil wanted something different. He went up to the Great Lakes to get a summer job working on a steam ship. He didn’t have seaman’s papers or training, but he had the spirit of a sailor. In no time, he was climbing a ladder onto his first ship and shoveling coal to heat the boilers.

For a young man still in high school, shoveling coal wasn’t the worst job out there. But after he graduated, Neil wanted something more. He went back to the Great Lakes, but an older seaman told him to go to New York City, to the Army shipping hall in Brooklyn, and get a job out on the ocean. Neil went to New York and stayed on a cot at the YMCA before being sent aboard the Edmund B. Alexander. This ship had been a German passenger boat until World War I when America had confiscated it and used it to transport troops. Confiscating German ships had been a necessity due to America’s inadequate fleet at the time. Neil would remember this lesson for the rest of his life — don’t wait until you need ships to build them.

His first voyage took him to Bremerhaven, Germany, carrying perhaps the most precious cargo of all. With the war coming to a close and the need for Americans to remain stationed in Germany to discourage Soviet advance, soldier families were being transported from the U.S. to Germany to accompany their husbands. These women and children were transported aboard the Edmund B. Alexander to reunite with their war-weary husbands.

After this voyage Neil went on several more, including a transport of rail cars to Havana, Cuba. As Neil describes it, “this was back when Havana was fun” and where you could get a cheap “rum and coke with more rum than coke.” He enjoyed his trip and found the Cuban locals to be very pleasant and friendly.

He attended King’s Point Academy and graduated, sailing off on a tanker for a few months before Uncle Sam sent him a letter. The Army was drafting him for the Korean War. With his sailing background he was able to transition to the Navy and he was even selected to test a brand new mine sweeping system in Annapolis, Maryland. He became an operations officer and tested the system before the Navy could commit to making more of them.

After he was discharged, he went to the University of Colorado and began working as a civil engineer, overseeing the construction of dams and lakes. But his Mariner license would soon be expiring unless he went back to sea as a mate. So, he returned to New York and sailed off on a passenger ship headed for Buenos Aires. This would be his last voyage.

Back in Colorado he was recruited to work on a brand new intercontinental ballistic missile weapon system. It was a stage separation missile, meaning that after the booster stage the rocket would separate and then the primary stage would carry the warhead farther to its target. No one had ever done this before. Missiles and rockets were brand new then. The development was being done in Denver, and Neil was recruited to implement a pioneering new preventive maintenance plan for the test equipment.

Neil still recounts his Merchant Marine days fondly and laments the fact that more Americans are not aware of the vital work of the Merchant Marine and the U.S.-flag fleet. “Our Merchant Marine doesn’t have any ships. That’s an exaggeration but not much of an exaggeration,” Neil says. “In World War I, we had no way to get our troops to Europe.” Let’s hope that history doesn’t repeat itself and that Congress ensures adequate funding for our U.S.-flag fleet, tankers and Merchant Marine.

By Luke Lorenz
Manager of Government Affairs
Navy League of the United States

This is part of an ongoing series, where we look at the lives and legacies of U.S. sea service men and women. 

It’s official. Election season is in full swing. And while millions will be watching the conventions for rising stars and familiar names in the political realm, the Navy League continues to focus its attention on those proven leaders who have transformed the sea services and safeguarded our nation — leaders like Michelle Howard, the first female four-star admiral in the history of the U.S. Navy.

Opportunities for women in the military were still in the nascent stages when a young Howard began to contemplate a career in the Navy. Her father had been a master sergeant in the U.S. Air Force, so she had grown up in the military community and felt at home there. She applied to the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis and was accepted along with six other African-American women in a class of 1,363 students.

Throughout her career she would be recognized regularly for her impressive abilities. While serving on the USS Lexington, still fresh from the academy, she received the Secretary of the Navy/Navy League Captain Winifred Collins Award, which is given to a female for her outstanding leadership. She would serve in the first Gulf War aboard the USS Mount Hood before becoming 1st lieutenant aboard the USS Flint. Continuing to advance through the ranks, she would support NATO efforts in the Balkans during the Kosovo conflict while serving as executive officer aboard the USS Tortuga.

When Howard assumed command of the USS Rushmore, she became the first African American woman to command a ship in the history of the U.S. Navy. But this groundbreaking American hero would not stop there. In 2014, she became the first female four-star admiral in the Navy’s history. It is hard to imagine anyone more deserving of the honor.

And so, as we spend the coming weeks and months focused on our civilian leadership let us not lose sight of those who earned every medal, ribbon and award with their sweat, blood and tears. Heroes like Michelle Howard did not achieve their position through campaigning. They fought, and they worked, and they made their nation proud every step of the way. Whenever you grow tired of the campaigns this fall, just look to the sea services for all the inspiration you need!

By Luke Lorenz
Manager of Government Affairs
Navy League of the United States

This is part of an ongoing series, where we look at the lives and legacies of U.S. sea service men and women. 

Having undergone a minor (yet no less stressful) medical procedure earlier this week, this author was reminded of the indescribably critical nature of medical professionals in the civilian and military realms. Their service, while easily overlooked during more tranquil periods, becomes the defining factor in stabilizing society during pandemics and keeping our troops in the fight during wartime. In the spirit of honoring these heroes, we would like to highlight the courage and dedication of Medal of Honor recipient Cmdr. John Henry Balch.

Balch was born in Kansas just before the turn of the century. As a result, he, along with the rest of his generation, would endure two world wars. The young man would enter the first on May 26, 1917, assigned to the 3rd Battalion, 6th Marine Regiment. Perhaps he had no idea at the time that he possessed the courage and fortitude which would lead him to receive our nation’s most prestigious military recognition, but this inner strength would be revealed under heavy fire.

The Battle of Vierzy (part of the larger German Spring Offensive of 1918) was in full fury when Balch entered the fray. The Germans had turned their attention to the western front after Russia’s withdrawal from the war, and they were now eager to punch through allied lines before American forces could become a decisive factor on the battlefield. Of course, the Germans weren’t aware that a division of Marines is all it takes to assert U.S. military dominance.

On July 19, 1918, Pharmacists Mate 1st Class John Balch fearlessly traversed the battlefield under heavy machine gun fire in order to set up a forward medical dressing station and to carry wounded Marines out of the combat zone. The fighting was intense and ebbed back and forth between American and German advances before the allies decisively cleared the objective of enemy troops. This would mark the turning point of the war, as the Germans were unable to engage in any significant offensive operations after this loss.

Balch’s bravery was exceptional, but his dedication to his fellow warfighters would define him as a true American hero. For his gallantry on the battlefield, he would receive the Medal of Honor in September 1919. His story might be inspiring to us, but he is just one of many heroes in the archives of our medical practitioners. Thank you to all of our combat medics and civilian medical professionals for all that you do!

By Luke Lorenz
Manager of Government Affairs
Navy League of the United States

This is part of an ongoing series, where we look at the lives and legacies of U.S. sea service men and women. 

For some, giving all you’ve got is a credo taken literally. Mark Oncale has lived those words since he was a child, working tough jobs long before he was old enough to drive. Mark recalls how his family of nine (two parents and seven children) never had six eggs to split between them. But that didn’t stop him from hauling wood for the local wood stover to help provide. This experience would profoundly shape his life.

When he joined the Merchant Marine at 16 years old, he asked his captain to send his entire paycheck back to his family. The captain refused, saying that Sailors needed to keep some wages for themselves. So Mark literally sent back the maximum amount he was allowed to send. He would learn the opposite lesson on his first trip to the galley when he discovered that for the first time he could have as much food as he wanted. For a boy who had grown up poor, this was too good to be true. He asked the cook how many eggs he could have. The cook responded that he could have as many eggs as he wanted. So, he asked for six eggs. The cook asked if he wanted any flapjacks. Mark asked if he would lose his eggs by ordering flapjacks. The cook said he could have both, so Mark sat down to a joyful meal of six eggs and three flapjacks. There was good eating to be had in the Merchant Marine. 

Mark’s experience with both lack of food and abundance would stir in him as his ship delivered grain to the starving people of Greece. The warring armies had eaten or destroyed all of their crops, and the people were desperate for food. When Mark’s ship arrived they found no functioning port equipment for unloading the grain so they had to dump it on the pier where Greeks shoveled it by hand into bags as local bishops and cardinals blessed the food and the Merchant Marine who had brought it. 

On another trip, they transported German and Italian prisoners of war from Egypt to Europe. The German POWs were taken to France where they were transported over ground back to Germany. The Italian POWs were taken to Naples. Later, Mark would be asked if he had to carry weapons to defend himself against these POWs during the voyage. He responds that he did not. The POWs were just happy to be alive after the devastating war.  

Taking great effort to educate himself and move up the professional ranks, Mark taught himself how to be an oiler and maintain the ship’s engines. He took some initial grief because he was new, but soon everyone saw that he was good at his job and he was a hard worker. This made him an essential member of the crew, something that Mark had worked toward from the day he set foot on his first ship. 

Mark would meet his wife in 1950, but the Merchant Marine had little time to grant them for marriage. Another war was starting in Korea and the French were fighting in southeast Asia. Initially, Mark wanted to join the Army but as his commanders told him “we’ve got plenty of guys to shoot the guns but not enough guys to carry them over there.” They needed him in the Merchant Marine, and after two weeks for his wedding and honeymoon he was back on a ship headed for Japan. He made ammunition deliveries to Korea at a time when things were very fraught in the port city of Pusan. They made their delivery and headed to Siam (modern-day Thailand) to bring weaponry to the French. 

At that time, the water routes in southeast Asia were very dangerous. Actually, the land was not much safer. As Mark recalls, he was told that the French owned the cities by day but the rebels owned them by night. On the water, enemy forces would attempt to swim up to the boats with hand grenades to throw into the ammunition-filled holds. Mark’s ship did not fall victim to this tactic but a sister ship running the exact same route was attacked, blown up and left no survivors. 

After his wife became pregnant with their first child, Mark left the Merchant Marine. He became an electrician and would later help to build a pumping station in Liberia. But his greatest success came from his fishing company. He hauled in huge takes of crab and made more money than he ever saw as an electrician. This would allow him to retire and take up long-distance bike riding which included several trips across the entire country while Mark was in his 70s. This amazing feat would earn him recognition from the New Orleans Saints as well as countless media outlets. 

As I asked Mark if there was anything else that he wanted me to include in this article, he teared up a bit. “My greatest pleasure was my time with the Merchant Marine,” he said. “With no education, I got to see the world and was an essential member of the crew. … I take my hat off to the Merchant Marine. I have my veteran’s hat on while sitting here. I have a banner on the front porch that says ‘Let’s finish the job!’ for the Merchant Marine. I wouldn’t take nothing for the experience.” If it hadn’t been for his happy marriage (which would eventually provide him with three children, nine grandchildren, fifteen great-grandchildren and one great-great-grandchild) he probably would have stayed in the Merchant Marine until he retired. 

By Luke Lorenz
Manager of Government Affairs
Navy League of the United States

This is part of an ongoing series, where we look at the lives and legacies of U.S. sea service men and women. 

The fight continues for World War II Merchant Marine veteran Bill Balabanow. This time it’s not in the Pacific or Atlantic, but at a local memorial in Lititz, Pennsylvania. When Bill learned that the veterans memorial would recognize all of the branches of the service but not the Merchant Marine, he sprung into action just like he did nearly 80 years ago. 

Bill had tried to join every branch of the armed forces during World War II but was listed as 4F, or unfit for duty, due to a serious curvature of the spine resulting from scoliosis. Not deterred by this (or the need to falsify his mother’s signature), he tried the Merchant Marine. Bill remembers that they were desperate for men at the time and in particular they needed radio operators. So, he signed up and went from the training center at Sheepshead Bay in New York to nearby Hoffman Island for specialized training on radio equipment. 

His first ship, which he recalls “wasn’t very new and wasn’t very pretty,” took him to Marseilles, France. They were carrying general Army cargo with tanks on the deck, and they moved in a small convoy. Bill wasn’t scared of entering enemy territory. He was just excited to see France.   

After a few more trips moving supplies back and forth between Europe, America and the Caribbean, Bill headed out to the Pacific for the first time. The Japanese were still a serious threat to U.S. ships and, for the first time, Bill was worried. Despite being loaded down with fighter planes, this vessel was faster than his previous cargo ships, and so they moved quickly without escort. Unloading their goods safely in the Philippines, they would learn on their way back to the States that the bomb had been dropped and the war was over. 

Sadly, this was not the end of the fight for Merchant Marine like Bill Balabanow. Many jobs were being reserved for those who had served in the other branches of the armed forces. Bill would remain in the Merchant Marine for another 31 years but would keep his occupation secret. He felt there was a stigma attached to the Merchant Marine, that people either didn’t know what they were or bad-mouthed them for not being part of the other armed services. This would change in 1988 when the Merchant Marine were finally given the veteran status that they had always deserved. 

From that point on, Bill has been a proud and vocal advocate for the Merchant Marine. He began giving speeches across his corner of Pennsylvania, educating Navy clubs, oral history groups and schools on the important contributions of the Merchant Marine. But when a new memorial to veterans was proposed without any recognition of the Merchant Marine, Bill became a one-man political movement. He contacted the governor and his federal representatives, he went to the VA and sent letters to the editor of local newspapers, he worked with other veteran’s groups to rectify the situation. Eventually, he was able to get the local American Legion to provide the funds to add a plaque for the Merchant Marine. I hope somewhere on that plaque is the name of the man who got it there, Bill Balabanow. 

By Luke Lorenz
Manager of Government Affairs
Navy League of the United States

This is part of an ongoing series, where we look at the lives and legacies of U.S. sea service men and women. 

Perhaps growing up without a father was the impetus for John Keane Sr.’s lifelong dedication to family. If so, then at least something good came of such a tough upbringing. Raised during the Great Depression and shipping off with the Merchant Marine at the age of 16, John’s early life was full of challenges and peril, but these things only brought him closer to his mother and brothers. The difficulties they faced made them stronger as individuals and as a unit.

Everyone in the family worked, including young John who sold so many newspapers that he was rewarded with a trip to the 1939 World’s Fair. Activity was buzzing all around them. The factories were churning out supplies and equipment for the war. John remembered a certain unity of purpose which could be felt all around him. From the men signing up to fight, to the women filing into the factories, everyone seemed focused and eager to do their part for their country. This would include John’s older brother Joe, who joined up with the 82nd Airborne and would stay in the Army for 18 years.

John was ready to enlist but was turned away by the Navy for being too young. That’s when he learned that the Merchant Marine would take you at 16 years old, off he went to train at Sheepshead Bay in New York. Things moved quickly from there. John was sent to Boston, but before he could unpack his bag he was taken out to a Liberty ship off the harbor. Climbing up a rope ladder onto the deck, he barely had time to set down his gear before an air siren sounded and an attack drill commenced. John ran to the 20 mm gun to assist as a feeder for the ammunition.

The Liberty ship that John crewed was one in a 60-vessel convoy that spanned over 5 miles. There were Navy destroyers escorting them, dropping depth charges to ward off German U-boats. They arrived in Cherbourg, France, to deliver vehicles and K-rations to the troops moving across Northern Europe. While here, John would see his first enemy prisoners of war. One of them was ordered to help John secure a rope on the dockside of the ship. He still remembers how the enemy soldier was just a young boy like himself. That experience would stay with him the rest of his life.

The world was changing around him. The Russians had pushed into Germany and taken most of Eastern Europe. U.S. forces had dropped the bomb on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, bringing the Japanese to surrender. John stayed in the shipping industry, and his journeys brought him face-to-face with the post-WW II global community. He visited a newly formed nation called Israel. He saw Eastern Europe descend into authoritarianism. He saw North Korea fall to communism. He visited Africa as its nations were decoupling from European colonialism. His trade was simply to deliver goods, but through this endeavor John witnessed the birth of a world that would form the foundation of the Cold War era.

He stayed in the Merchant Marine until 1952, when he married his wife and started his own family. He has seven children, 13 grandchildren and 13 great-grandchildren. He stays in touch with them regularly and clearly cares deeply about them. 

By Luke Lorenz
Manager of Government Affairs
Navy League of the United States

This is part of an ongoing series, where we look at the lives and legacies of U.S. sea service men and women. 

A man’s life is never an easy thing to put into words, but Jack Laub makes it especially difficult. From varsity athlete, to officer and ship doctor in the Merchant Marine, to NBA draft pick, to transformative force in the pharmaceutical industry, to hall of fame inductee, Jack has led a life that cannot be adequately detailed in one article. In fact, we’ve already skipped over his time in the Coast Guard and his years coaching basketball. But perhaps we can condense this voluminous legacy by focusing on the one constant that has defined the many chapters of Jack’s life — his dedication to helping others. 

Crediting both basketball and his time in the Merchant Marine as the formative experiences that would shape his character for decades to come, Jack took quickly to the teamwork and camaraderie required in both endeavors. Having signed up voluntarily with the Merchant Marine, he emerged from training at Sheepshead Bay, New York, as an officer. In this capacity he was not only responsible for the paychecks of all the men aboard, he was also the ship’s only medical staff. His shipmates could not have asked for a better steward of their personal and financial safety. Hardworking and reliable, this 19-year-old officer was accepted and respected by a crew averaging twice his age.  

Jack sailed on six different ships for six different voyages across the Atlantic. The cargo varied widely. On one trip they transported oil from Venezuela to the allied troops in Europe. Another time they brought enemy prisoners of war from their point of capture back to recently occupied German land. Whatever the mission, Jack accounted for every penny that his men earned and dispensed funds when they arrived in port. He was also in charge of dispensing candy and cigarettes, which made him a very important young man. 

In addition to shaping his character, his time in the Merchant Marine would have two lasting impacts on his life. The first was his participation in the liberation of France, for which he would receive the honor of “Chevalier” in the French Legion of Honor (a distinction which traces its origins all the way back to Napoleon Bonaparte). The second would be the emergence of his indomitable spirit when tested under pressure. There was one incident which depicted this side of Jack vividly. 

In the midst of a brutal storm in the Northern Atlantic, one of his crewmates fell from a great height to the unforgiving deck below. Jack charged out into the storm to retrieve the man and provide the necessary medical treatments, which included setting his broken leg with a splint (something young Jack had never done before). His quick-thinking and fearless action kept his shipmate safe until they arrived in port. The less dramatic treatments that he provided to other shipmates were no less vital to the health and welfare of the crew.

Jack’s Mariner career, as well as his time serving as a lieutenant in the Coast Guard, would be sandwiched between varsity athletics at two separate universities. He had started at City College of New York before joining the Merchant Marine, and upon completing his time there he received a basketball scholarship to continue his sports career at the University of Cincinnati. This made him the only NCAA player in history to have played six years of varsity ball at two separate universities. In 1950, he was drafted into a new sports league that you might know as the NBA. Starting with the Baltimore Bullets, he would go on to play for the Minneapolis Lakers (long before they moved to sunny Los Angeles) and the Scranton Miners.  

Despite his accomplishments on the court, my conversation with Mr. Laub led me to believe that he was most proud of his brief but impressive coaching career. I found this period of his life to be remarkable for two reasons. First, he was able to produce tremendous results in a very short period of time, like when he helped to propel the Bearcats to their first National Invitation Tournament during his initial year as assistant coach. Second, the several years that he dedicated to coaching basketball both at the University of Cincinnati and at the Kings Point Merchant Marine Academy were not part of his chosen career path but rather were selfless and voluntary contributions to the institutions that he cared about. In both instances, Jack had already decided that he would be moving on to a career in medicine but agreed to dedicate a year of his life to coaching simply as a way of giving back.  

There is so much more to cover in the long and storied career of Jack Laub, but we will just discuss one additional aspect here today, and that is his time working in the field of medicine. Most people would never know it, but Laub is responsible for a transformation in the distribution and pricing of the medicines that we rely on. He spent years developing a plan and convincing various stakeholders to produce, stock and distribute a wide variety of generic drugs in a manner that would save the United States healthcare system (and the individuals within it, like you and me) hundreds of billions of dollars. For this tremendous contribution to our country, Jack Laub was awarded the Distinguished Alumni Award from the University of Cincinnati.  

Jack would go on to fund a scholarship at the Florida Atlantic University for medical students pursuing breast cancer research, an issue close to his heart as a result of loved ones that had been lost. He would be inducted into the National Jewish Sports Hall of Fame and Museum, the James P. Kelly University of Cincinnati Athletics Hall of Fame and the Brooklyn Jewish Hall of Fame. He was also inducted into the City College of New York Basketball Hall of Fame.  

By Luke Lorenz
Manager of Government Affairs
Navy League of the United States

This is part of an ongoing series, where we look at the lives and legacies of U.S. sea service men and women. 

The most decorated enlisted Sailor in the U.S. Navy’s long and eventful history, James Elliott “Willy” Williams earned his medals several times over. Signing up amid the backdrop of the Korean War, Willy would serve a truly distinguished 20-year career before leaving the Navy for the U.S. Marshals service. During this career, he would exemplify the greatest attributes of an American warrior.

It would be along the serpentine rivers of Vietnam that Willy would engage in the incredible acts of heroism that would make him an American hero and a most fearsome adversary to enemy forces. Assigned to River Squadron 5 in South Vietnam, he would conduct two operations within as many months, which would earn him multiple Bronze Stars as well as a Silver Star and Purple Heart. In both instances, Willy’s Patrol Boat came under attack from Viet Cong sampans. Moving with great agility, he closed in on the sampans and captured them. Willy’s aggressive tactics overwhelmed the enemy forces even when they outnumbered Willy and his crew. This successful strategy would result in a near-impossible victory only a few months later.

In October of 1966, Willy was in command of a two-boat patrol along the Mekong River. Coming under fire from two sampans, he utilized his instincts for offensive maneuvers and quickly eliminated one sampan while giving chase to the second. This pursuit would bring his patrol directly into a Viet Cong staging area with numerous enemy vessels and machine gun positions along the riverbanks. Having called for air support Willy sprang into action, fighting through immense enemy forces. His patrol boats and the accompanying helicopter support would destroy some 65 Viet Cong boats while inflicting overwhelming damage against enemy troops.

Willy would go on to rescue a Sailor from the sinking Jamaica Bay dredge only a few months later. For these actions, James Elliott Williams would receive the hallowed “Big Three” valor awards to include the Medal of Honor, Navy Cross and Silver Star. It would be hard to find anyone more deserving of these honors.