By Patty Roy

There are moments in time when a call for greatness goes out, and during World War II, that call came with the clarity of a bugle. “A rendezvous with destiny,” President Franklin Roosevelt called it and the people of Millbury stood ready to answer.

The town had only 7000 residents, but 1000 of them served in the military. 

The rest no doubt contributed in the usual ways, abiding by rationing goods such as sugar, meat, coffee, butter canned goods and shoes. Gasoline, tires and metal were also on the list of shorted items.

 

However, the folks of Millbury were ambitious beyond these measures of contributing to the war effort. In June 1941, Harold Bowker, the treasurer of Millbury Savings Bank, committed residents to sponsor building a ship, a real fighting vessel. He contacted the Mass. War Finance Committee to get approval and got back a letter okaying the town to raise $409,000.

Not good enough. That was just little more than half the cost of a Landing Craft Infantry ship which at the time cost $700,000 to build, said Geri Stead of the Millbury Historical Society.  

But, Bowker and his committee did not set out to build half a ship. They stuck to their civilian guns, as it were, and by the end of the month, they had raised $1,048,000. 

That’s about $15 million in today’s dollars. That ship celebrates its 80th birthday this year and is the last surviving LCI from the war.

The contributions came from adults buying $25 war bonds and children doing their bit by buying War Stamps for 25 cents each. These were put into a War Bond booklet, explained Sharon Anderson, also of the Millbury Historical Society. When the book was filled, the kids could buy a War Bond. 

There were also rallies to get people excited about fundraising and movie nights where proceeds went toward War Bonds.

The ship that Millbury purchased was a Landing Craft Infantry with the hull number LCI (L)-713 – a beaching craft that transported and delivered fighting troops, typically a company of infantry. LCIs were 158 feet long and 23 feet, 3 inches wide at the middle. The craft was in frequent use during the war, with a crew of 24-60 sailors and capable of carrying 200 soldiers.

“England was the first country that wanted landing craft to get soldiers closer to the sand on the beaches,” explained Geri Stead.

Originally, the flat-bottomed vessels had two ramps running down each side of the ship that men would use to disembark into the water and then clamber up onto the beach.  She referenced familiar scenes from the film, “Saving Private Ryan.”

“The problem was, the men would get shot as they ran down the ramps into the water,” she said.

The LCI – 713, however, was an improved model built in 1944 by the George S. Lawley and Sons Shipyard in Neponset, Massachusetts. It allowed soldiers to disembark from a wide door and ramp in the bow of the ship, providing them with a little more cover as they made their way out into the water.

The craft was launched on September 18 with 15 Millbury residents in attendance, among them Harold Bowker and the police chief. 

The LCI-713 headed towards southern waters, passed through the Panama Canal to the Pacific. It joined up with a flotilla and went on to spend its war days at the Philippines and Borneo.

Back at home, a celebration was laid on for the small town that made a big contribution to the war effort.

Geri Stead listed the events saluting both the ship and townspeople. A parade, a military band from Fort Devens, a radio station on hand with more music, followed by an evening dance with orchestra.

As for the LCI -713, it saw action in the Pacific Theater, making two assault landings in Zamboanga, Philippines in March 1945 and Brunei Bay, Borneo in June 1945 (as part of the Battle of North Borneo) for which it earned its lone battle star. 

Immediately post-war, the LCI-713 transported troops and supplies around the Philippines. It was decommissioned in Seattle in October 1946.

After decommissioning, the LCI-713 struggled to find it purpose in the world.  It was sold in 1948 at government auction as war surplus and was intended for use as a log hauling tugboat in Seattle. Just two days after the sale the craft was found unfit for that purpose, said Sharon Anderson. Its engines were removed and it became a floating storage unit for gear and gasoline. By the late 1950’s the ship was abandoned and sank in the brackish waters of the Columbia River where it lay for 25 years.

The ship is now raised and floating in the Swan Island Lagoon in Portland, Oregon. It was sold to Amphibious Forces Memorial Museum (AFMM) and planned for refurbishment as a historically correct museum ship. On April 12, 2007, it was listed on the National Parks Register as a Historic Vehicle. She is the last LCI craft in existence and now in possession AFMM, a 501 c 3 organization.

The local connection doesn’t end there, though. Impressed by Millbury’s initial contribution to the LCI (L) -713, the purchasers got in touch by letter in 2015 to see if money could be raised all over again. 

The gist of the letter was “isn’t this exciting. Your town paid to have one of these made and they were used for transpsort during the war,” Sharon Anderson said. Frank Gagliardi , Historical Society president, had to write back and tell them that Millbury was in fact quite a small town and it was unlikely that major fundraising was in its future.. 

In 2017, she said that a trove of LCI-713 materials were discovered in an attic and he shared with the Historical Society in 2019. The Historical Society put him in contact with the new owners of the ship.

A meat raffle was held at the St. Charles Hotel, and raised $1350 that was sent along for the restoration. The ship needs a new steel bottom, estimated to cost at least $100,000. 

It’s curious that the LCI-713 sort of drifted out of sight, out of mind, in post-war Millbury. Even a resident who was a teenager at the time didn’t have any memories of the War Bond rallies or movie nights.

“My theory is that the guys who come home from World War II, they wanted to get married and have babies and build houses,” Sharon theorized.  “We never talked about it, nobody cared what happened to the ship that Millbury raised the money for.”

Now that it is the last of its class, interest is renewed, Geri said, and the Historical Society is pleased about that.