In January 1971, the Denebola was on her way to the Med filled with replenishment supplies for the ships already there.  On the day before we were supposed to enter the Med, I received a message via the Red Cross that my wife had been admitted to the hospital.  She was in her seventh month of a pregnancy and went into labor.  Things did not go well and the pregnancy ended with a stillborn child.  The XO (I don't remember his name) told me that they would send me home when the ship reached Naples, in four or five days.  This was not great news but there wasn't much that I could do about it.  The next morning, the Commanding Officer, Carl Herrick (I remember his name) called me up to the bridge and told me to get my things together because he had arranged for me to leave the ship at Rota, Spain.  We could not enter the port there - but he had a buddy who was the Chief on a Naval Tugboat who had agreed to come out and get me.  I climbed over the side of the ship onto the tug and they took me to the Naval Base.  The Captain sent ice cream and coffee for the tugboat's crew along with me as "payment" for my transfer. The Chief drove me to the Air Station and I was on a plane back to the states within hours.  I was home with my wife and two year old son the next morning, all because of the concern of the officers and men on board that ship. 

One of the other things that sticks in my mind was "retro-grade cargo." We always stopped at Rota before returning to the states and they filled our ship with household effects for servicemen returning to the states.  They filled every inch of space above and below decks.  This made moving around difficult, but it also made GQ drills impossible. The crew used to really enjoy the trip back to the states uninterrupted by the blaring horn sounding General Quarters.

                                    Harvey Bernstein
                                    DK2, USS Denebola (1970-71)




In January 1971, the Denebola was on her way to the Med filled with replenishment supplies for the ships already there.  On the day before we were supposed to enter the Med, I received a message via the Red Cross that my wife had been admitted to the hospital.  She was in her seventh month of a pregnancy and went into labor.  Things did not go well and the pregnancy ended with a stillborn child.  The XO (I don't remember his name) told me that they would send me home when the ship reached Naples, in four or five days.  This was not great news but there wasn't much that I could do about it.  The next morning, the Commanding Officer, Carl Herrick (I remember his name) called me up to the bridge and told me to get my things together because he had arranged for me to leave the ship at Rota, Spain.  We could not enter the port there - but he had a buddy who was the Chief on a Naval Tugboat who had agreed to come out and get me.  I climbed over the side of the ship onto the tug and they took me to the Naval Base.  The Captain sent ice cream and coffee for the tugboat's crew along with me as "payment" for my transfer. The Chief drove me to the Air Station and I was on a plane back to the states within hours.  I was home with my wife and two year old son the next morning, all because of the concern of the officers and men on board that ship. 

One of the other things that sticks in my mind was "retro-grade cargo." We always stopped at Rota before returning to the states and they filled our ship with household effects for servicemen returning to the states.  They filled every inch of space above and below decks.  This made moving around difficult, but it also made GQ drills impossible. The crew used to really enjoy the trip back to the states uninterrupted by the blaring horn sounding General Quarters.

                                    Harvey Bernstein
                                    DK2, USS Denebola (1970-71)


In January 1971, the Denebola was on her way to the Med filled with replenishment supplies for the ships already there.  On the day before we were supposed to enter the Med, I received a message via the Red Cross that my wife had been admitted to the hospital.  She was in her seventh month of a pregnancy and went into labor.  Things did not go well and the pregnancy ended with a stillborn child.  The XO (I don't remember his name) told me that they would send me home when the ship reached Naples, in four or five days.  This was not great news but there wasn't much that I could do about it.  The next morning, the Commanding Officer, Carl Herrick (I remember his name) called me up to the bridge and told me to get my things together because he had arranged for me to leave the ship at Rota, Spain.  We could not enter the port there - but he had a buddy who was the Chief on a Naval Tugboat who had agreed to come out and get me.  I climbed over the side of the ship onto the tug and they took me to the Naval Base.  The Captain sent ice cream and coffee for the tugboat's crew along with me as "payment" for my transfer. The Chief drove me to the Air Station and I was on a plane back to the states within hours.  I was home with my wife and two year old son the next morning, all because of the concern of the officers and men on board that ship. 

One of the other things that sticks in my mind was "retro-grade cargo." We always stopped at Rota before returning to the states and they filled our ship with household effects for servicemen returning to the states.  They filled every inch of space above and below decks.  This made moving around difficult, but it also made GQ drills impossible. The crew used to really enjoy the trip back to the states uninterrupted by the blaring horn sounding General Quarters.

                                    Harvey Bernstein
                                    DK2, USS Denebola (1970-71)