Master Austin S. Fithian stood on the bridge wing, his eyes scanning the grey waters of the English Channel. Ahead of him were two ships in the port column of the ECM-17 convoy. As he leaned against the cold steel of the wing, he looked aft and saw the last ship in his column. Heading due east, the burden of the importance of the convoy hung heavily on his mind and thoughts. The Allied Forces had broken through the Atlantic Seawall only a few weeks earlier and the supply chain of troops, equipment, fuel, and other necessities for battling the Nazis was the only lifeline the frontline troops had that separated victory and potential failure. As he continued to scan the horizon, he couldn’t shake the overarching importance of his mission – the convoy had to get through. He had checked his position only moments before stepping out onto the bridge wing. His charge was roughly thirty miles south of St. Catherine’s Point, near the Isle of Wight. The seventeen ships in the convoy had left from Falmouth, Cornwall and were headed to France. As the commanding officer of the Liberty Ship Edward M. House, he was responsible for the vessel, his eight fellow officers, his thirty-three crewmen, twenty-eight members of his Naval Armed Guard, and five hundred and eighty-seven troops. The destination of the convoy was the Allied beachhead at Normandy. The grey water and weather hung as heavy as the responsibility on his shoulders. Unbeknownst to Master Fithian, another captain was scanning the horizon, and he saw the column of supply ships heading toward the western shores of France and the link to his homeland. Oberleutnant Zur See Heinze Sieder peered through his periscope and offered curt, though, hushed orders to his crew. Slithering below the surface and waiting to strike, the U-984 was about to unleash its terror on the S.S. Edward M. House and her convoy.
At 1528 hours on June 29, 1944, Sieder fired two torpedoes. The torpedoes sped through the water toward their targets. The first torpedo struck below the stern of the S.S. Edward M. House. A plume of water spewed skyward. The Liberty Ship was rocked by the explosion. Seconds later, a second explosion struck the S.S. H.G. Glasdel, astern of the S.S. Edward M. House. Master Fithian, jarred by the explosion, took immediate action to determine the damage to his vessel. As the Naval Armed Guard attempted to identify the location of the underwater hunter, Fithian and his crew took action to save their ship. Damage control parties quickly reported to the bridge. Though her engines had been temporarily stopped while the damage was assessed, Fithian was able to quickly order the ship back underway on her original course. Damage had been significant, but none of his men had been injured and the ship, despite damage to the forepeak, a partial flood in the number one port and starboard deep tanks, and buckled shell plating on the collision bulkhead, remained seaworthy. Dead in the water was not an ideal position for any vessel when a hunter lurked in the grey water of the horizon. A few moments after the S.S. Edward M. House began to trudge forward, another torpedo sped by her and struck the S.S. John A. Treutlen. At 1543, another ship in the convoy was stuck, this time the S.S. James A. Farrell. The U-984, though successful in disrupting the convoy, had struck only damage and fear in the men aboard the ships. The convoy and the inevitable end of the Nazi power, at sea and on land, had only been temporarily disrupted. For Fithian, it was a brush with death that had come uncomfortably close. Despite the attack, Fithian survived and later that same day, he successfully discharged his cargo of soldiers. By July 1, 1944, the S.S. Edward M. House had managed to limp back to the United Kingdom for much-needed repairs while three of his sister ships from the convoy had been lost. Fithian’s brush with death had been close. Fithian would not be so lucky across the world, after the War in Europe was already over, while serving as the Captain of the S.S. Arthur R. Lewis.
Austin Stuart Fithian, a New York native of Lynbrook, New York, was the son of the late Mr. and Mrs. Bertram Fithian of Brooklyn, New York. Fithian grew up in Lynbrook and after graduation from Lynbrook High School, he pursued a career at sea as a cadet at the New York State Merchant Marine Academy.1 In February of 1935, Cadet Austin S. Fithian completed his training in the deck department. Fithian entered the merchant fleet and began his time at sea. After his service in the European Theatre of Operations, he returned to the United States. During his brief respite at home, Commander Fithian spent time with his wife Jane, their two-year-old daughter Margo, and his sister Ruth. With the war in the Pacific Theatre of operations now in the focus of Allied forces, he answered the call to the sea and his responsibilities to his employer, the Robin Line, under contract with the War Shipping Administration. As master of the S.S. Arthur R. Lewis, Fithian was heading to the waters of the Pacific Ocean and unknown to him, his last command.
On December 15th, 1945, Jane Fithian heard a knock on the door of her home at number 25 Second Street, in Lynbrook. The cable was from P.P. Lanning, the operations manager of the Seas Shipping Company of New York. Unfortunately, the news was only being relayed from the War Shipping Administration, which had been provided the information from the U.S. Navy at Manus, in the Admiralty Islands. Mrs. Fithian ripped open the cable and sat down on the couch. She choked back tears as she read the cable. “Cable dated 12/10 through naval channels from Manus advises Capt. Austin Fithian of SS Arthur R. Lewis was shot and killed aboard the ship. Five crew members, including first and second mates, are under naval custody at Manus. Advise next of kin.” The cable fell to the floor. Mrs. Fithian’s husband, Captain Austin Fithian, was dead.
Six days earlier, on December 9, 1945, the S.S. Arthur R. Lewis was moored up in the serene waters of Seeadler Harbor, Manus Island, a part of the Admiralty Islands of Papua New Guinea.2 The ship might as well had been called Reluctant and with her “in the rear with the gear” status of operating status in a fleet of myriad ships throughout the vastness of the Pacific Ocean and its tiny islands, the Liberty ship was just another supply vessel that had taken an “occasional trip to Monotony” with a side-trip to “Tedium to Apathy and back” on several occasions.3 With a cargo of beer for the troops who were strung out across the Pacific Ocean’s island chains like laundry flapping in the breeze on the Allied clothesline of battle, the Liberty ship was waiting to discharge her cargo in support of the war effort. Though the cargo of beer had been relegated to the troops and despite their duty, some of the crew aboard had managed to get their hands on some of the coveted cargo and some of their own stowed contraband. The sweaty heat of the islands, swirled with a copious consumption of alcohol, had created a lethal concoction for the young captain. Trouble was brewing aboard the S.S. Arthur R. Lewis.
First Mate, Francis P. O’Leary, the Second Engineer, and Third Mate Cooper were in the latter’s stateroom and were several drinks in when the Second Engineer announced that he was going to invite Captain Fithian to the party. O’Leary and Cooper concurred with the planned invite and were disappointed when the Second Engineer returned to the stateroom, indicating that Captain Fithian’s lights were off and that he must have gone to bed. The three men continued to imbibe in their cocktails of choice. A half hour or so later, at roughly nineteen-thirty hours, Noble, the Chief Engineer, attempted to provide a report to Captain Fithian, but he also noticed that his quarters were dark. While the Chief Engineer went about his evening, O’Leary and Cooper had shifted their drinking location to the First Mate’s quarters. The pair also opened a bottle of whiskey. The pouring of the caramel-colored libation continued in earnest. The drinking then led to an argument.
A seaman named Watson, traversing the decks of the ship, heard a volley of violent voices and stopped to see what was going on. Watson could tell it was O’Leary and Cooper yelling at one another. It was clear to Watson that O’Leary was highly intoxicated. Watson watched as the First Mate violently shoved Cooper. With slurred speech, O’Leary then ordered Cooper to the other side of the deck. Cooper, equally under the influence, refused. O’Leary then ordered Cooper to the other side of the deck or else he would use his gun. Watson’s trained eyes saw movement above the two men, two decks up, on the wing of the Captain’s Deck. While Watson did not hear anything from the shadowy figure, he assumed it was Captain Fithian, as it was where he often stood. O’Leary and Cooper separated. Watson witnessed O’Leary entering the house.4 O’Leary’s quarters were on the deck below the captain’s office and quarters.
Three or four minutes later, the sound of gunfire erupted aboard the ship. Kennon, the purser, and Zents, the Second Mate, were the first to respond to the sound of the shots. Though both men reported what they saw, both had different recollections. Kennon, when reporting to the deck, saw O’Leary a few feet away from Captain Fithian’s cabin. “What happened?” questioned O’Leary as the purser arrived to investigate the gunfire. O’Leary was staggering down the passageway as his slurred words were offered. Kennon and O’Leary then walked toward the door of the quarters. O’Leary’s body partially blocked Kennon’s view at first. When O’Leary moved out of the way, Kennon saw Captain Fithian slumped over on the settee. Kennon rushed to the aid of his captain and quickly checked for a pulse. The purser looked down and saw a gun standing on its sights with the trigger guard facing upward. Kennon could not recall if O’Leary had said anything else during that time frame. His focus had been on the bloody scene and his captain’s condition.
Second Mate Zents’ recollection of his arrival at Captain Fithian’s quarters, which was within roughly twenty to thirty seconds after the shots, placed O’Leary in the doorway of the captain’s quarters. As Zents approached down the passageway, he saw O’Leary leave the room while uttering, “This will hold you for a while.” As O’Leary staggered further down the passageway away from the quarters, Zents entered the cabin and witnessed Captain Fithian slumping over on the settee. A gun, a Smith and Wesson revolver, lay at Captain Fithian’s feet. Second Mate Zents had seen the gun before. He had seen O’Leary with the revolver on several occasions and had witnessed him use it to shoot at birds on the deck of the ship.5 Zents also stated that he had seen a piece of paper on the deck with what he thought was a bloody footprint on it.
Though Kennon and Zents recalled the arrival and actions of O’Leary a little differently, one fact was clear. Captain Austin Fithian was dead. The naval authorities were summoned to the ship and two seamen were placed on guard duty to ensure that the scene was not trampled upon before an investigation could commence. The two seamen later reported that O’Leary, still under the influence, had what appeared to be a stain on one of his arms. One of the seamen thought it might be blood, but the other couldn’t tell if it was rust or possibly cocoa. They also both reported that O’Leary asked them both where Captain Fithian was. When the two seamen replied that he had gone ashore, O’Leary commented that he knew that the captain had not gone ashore.
The naval authorities placed five men from the crew under arrest as an autopsy was completed. Captain Fithian had been shot six times in his right side and chest. There was no way he could have survived the onslaught of the gunfire. Six bullets were later recovered in his quarters. The piece of paper, with what Second Mate Zents believed was a bloody footprint, however, was never turned over as evidence. Zents later recalled that he thought that a naval officer had taken the piece of paper during a review of the crime scene. Five of the crew, including First Mate O’Leary, languished in a naval brig awaiting the next step in the trial. Sadly, Captain Fithian was dead due to the careless actions of a drunken member of his crew.
The five men were confined until transferred to Los Angeles, California to stand trial. On March 20, 1946, after a thorough review of the deadly incident, First Mate Francis P. O’Leary was convicted of voluntary manslaughter. Two weeks later, the convicted man stood before Federal Judge Leon R. Yankich for his sentencing. O’Leary was sentenced to six years in prison for the death of Captain Fithian.6 Captain Austin S. Fithian was once a young boy who loved the sea and now his life had ended in a faraway place that many would need a globe and a knowing finger to find. He had attended and successfully graduated from the New York State Merchant Marine Academy, had risen through the ranks of the Merchant Marine to attain the rank of Master, and he had served his nation in harm’s way to rid the world of tyranny. He had survived the treacherous waters of the Atlantic Ocean during the Second World War and had evaded death after being torpedoed in the English Channel while ensuring the safe passage of troops to take on the last bastion of evil in Fortress Europa. And despite all of this, he was to die not by the hands of his sworn enemy but rather by one of his crewmen of his ship, the S.S. Arthur R. Lewis, as she lay at her mooring in Seeadler Harbor in the Admiralty Islands. He had been killed far from his home, his wife, and his young daughter, who would forever be without her father and who would have to stare upon the horizon and know that he was never to return home aboard his ship, in our waters.
About the Author – Adam M. Grohman is the researcher and author of over thirty-six books, which capture the rich history of our maritime environs and United States Coast Guard history. For more information about scheduling a lecture or to purchase any of his available titles, please visit www.lulu.com/spotlight/adamgrohman or email grohmandive@hotmail.com.
1 The New York State Merchant Marine Academy had originally been established in 1874 as the New York Nautical School. It is now known as Maritime College, a part of the SUNY or State University of New York system.
2 Seeadler Harbor was named after the SMS Seeadler, a Bussard-class cruiser built in 1892 for the Kaiserliche Marine.
3 A classic passage from Thomas Heggen’s wartime novel Mr. Roberts, when he describes the supply ship Reluctant. “It makes an occasional trip to Monotony, and once it made a run to Ennui, a distance of two thousand nautical miles from Tedium. It performs its dreary and unthanked job, and performs it, if not inspired, then at least adequately. …from Tedium to Apathy and back; about five days each way.”
4 The “house” refers to the inside of the ship.
5 Other crewmen later testified that they had seen O’Leary with a gun on his person.
6 In 1947, attorneys A.L. McCormick and Pat A. McCormick argued before Circuit Judges Denman, Healy, and Orr in the Circuit Court of Appeals, Ninth Circuit, that the appellant, O’Leary, should be granted an appeal. They argued that the “conviction should be set aside because the evidence, being circumstantial, fails to exclude every other reasonable hypothesis than that of guilt and that such evidence is not inconsistent with every reasonable hypothesis of innocence.” Despite O’Leary’s request for an appeal based on lack of motive, the missing evidence of the paper with the alleged bloody footprint, and other legal precedent, the circuit judges saw no reason to overturn the original conviction. In O’Leary v. United States, the United States Attorneys assigned to the case were victorious. Sadly, no matter what the outcome of the case, Captain Fithian was dead. At least, after the judgment that the original conviction would stand, his murderer was held accountable for what could have been an avoidable death.