William "Bruce" Tinneny
An American Hero
By Richard J. Tinneny
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c 1996 R. Tinneny
PREFACE
He was born and raised in the Manayunk section of Philadelphia. He quit
high school when he was 17 years old and left his family to serve his
country as a member of the United States Navy in World War II. By the
time he was 19 years old, he was a seasoned combat veteran and a naval
hero.
After the war he married a girl from the neighborhood and raised a
family. He worked in the private sector for some time and then for the
government with the United States Postal Service. He died at home with
his family in the neighborhood in which he was raised.
William B. Tinneny, “Bruce,” as he was called from childhood, was the
son of James J. Tinneny and Gertrude A. Spence. His roots, like all of
the descendents of “Yankee Pat” Tinneny, go back to the little
island-like townland of Goladuff which is located between counties
Fermanagh and Cavan in Ireland.
In the course of writing a book about the Tinneny family, I’ve reviewed
many pages of research material and listened to and read stories about
many Tinnenys all around the world. One of the most moving among them
was the first hand account written by Bruce of his experience in combat
aboard a merchant ship in the North Atlantic during World War II.
That account is illustrative of the sacrifices, feelings and
contributions made by those of our family around the world who served in
combat in various conflicts and under a variety of national flags.
This booklet has been prepared as a momento for his family and as a
reminder to all of us of the sacrifices he made in the service of his
country — in the toughest of times and situations.
Richard J. Tinneny
Columbia, South Carolina
December 20, 1996
William "Bruce" Tinneny
"I always like to see the sun come up in the morning because it gives me a sense of security."
Bruce Tinneny
Somewhere in the North Atlantic
March 6, 1943
DEDICATION
To: Aunt Dot, Bruce & Gail
With love and fond memories of Uncle Bruce.
R.J.T.
William Bruce Tinneny was the eighth child and fifth son of James J.
Tinneny and Gertrude A. Spence. He was born in the family home at 240
Gates Street in the Manayunk section of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania on
August 18, 1925. He was baptized at Holy Family Catholic Church in
Manayunk on September 6, 1925.
Bruce, as did his brothers and sisters, attended Holy Family Elementary
School. It was while a student at Holy Family that he was seriously
injured one day when he tried to help the nun open or close one of the
large windows in the classroom. He climbed up onto the window sill and
fell through the glass down to a metal grating which was one story below
on the outside of the school. Bruce landed on his head and received
severe cuts of the face and head some of which left significant scars
which were evident for the remainder of his life.
On September 24, 1942, with the United States heavily engaged in World
War II, Bruce left Saint John’s High School and enlisted in the United
States Navy Reserve. Because he had a heart murmur he entered service
through the reserve rather than the regular Navy which had more rigorous
enlistment standards. Once in the Navy, there was no significant
difference between those who entered through the reserve and those who
entered as regular Navy enlistees.
Bruce signed up after his brothers Joe and Tom and some of his friends
had enlisted. He went to the Great Lakes Naval Training Center for
basic training which lasted for about one month. Following basic
training he volunteered to serve as a gunner with the Naval Armed Guard
units aboard the vessels of the United States Merchant Marine fleet.
From basic training at Great Lakes Naval Training Center, he was sent to
the Armed Guard Center in Gulfport, Mississippi, where he was trained as
a shipboard gunner.
Except for the Navy gun crews aboard the merchant ships, the rest of the
crews were civilian. Bruce was assigned to ships that carried materials
and supplies throughout the North Atlantic. Some of these cruises
involved transporting supplies from the United States to the port of
Murmansk in Russia. Those cruises were called the Murmansk Run.
It was extremely hazardous duty since the merchant ships involved in
these North Atlantic convoys were constantly tracked and attacked by
German submarines. Many of those aboard the merchant ships who survived
the initial torpedo attacks, met their death when they entered the rough
and frigid water. It was during cruises aboard the merchant ships that
Bruce became a naval hero in the frigid waters of the North Atlantic.
In 1996 I received a copy of a 21 page diary that Bruce kept while he
was at sea on one of the Murmansk Runs from his wife Dorothea Tinneny.
The diary provides a first hand account of the feelings that must have
been common to thousands of naval personnel who served in combat during
the war. The hand written entries in red ink were on United States Navy
note paper which had a U.S. Navy emblem at the top of each page.
The cruise that Bruce described in the diary was aboard the merchant
ship the S.S. Henry Wynkoop. The Wynkoop was a liberty ship owned by
the United Fruit Company of Boston, Massachusetts. Its dimensions were
441 ft. by 57ft. by 37ft. and her gross tons were 7176. The master of
the ship that cruise was Glen Feltus.
The diary described Bruce’s thoughts prior to departing New York aboard
the Wynkoop on February 28, 1943, the events leading up to the night the
ship rammed a German submarine, that terrifying night’s activity, and
his thoughts as the ship limped into Belfast Harbor in Northern Ireland
on March 15th. The diary follows:
Feb. 28
The cargo is loaded and the ship is ready to start on it’s
voyage. She is scheduled to leave at midnight. One week ago today she
split in two forward of the port beam. The next day they welded it and
continued to work at it all through the week. Yesterday they finished
the job on it and she is now a sea worthy ship.
We were denied shore liberty though no one seemed to mind that because
all hands were anxious to set sail. If they had only known what was in
store for us we wouldn’t ever have wanted to sail. Most of the old crew
from the last trip were on her. They added six more Navy men to the
Navy gun crew, so I guess we are all set.
March 1
Cates our cox woke me up at 3:15 a.m. to go on watch. We are
well on our way out of New York and are now going on sea watches. My
watch is the 4 to 8, the same as the last trip. Sheppard GM3 is PO
[Petty Officer] of the watch. I wish we had a different one because I
don’t get along with him.
The sea is very calm and we are just starting to form a convoy. We will
keep on picking up ships and escorts until we pass Halifax. We have a
boy on here that has made this Russian run before and he tells me it
isn’t going to be a picnic. I didn’t think it would be a picnic but I
never dreamed what was in store for us.
March 2
I woke up this morning feeling very good. The sea is starting
to get rougher and the weather is getting colder but it doesn’t bother
me. In fact I seem to like it.
In the afternoon, I was sitting on number 5 hatch talking to Cates and
before I could move a wave run over me and I came close to being washed
overboard.
We are getting a real taste of the North Atlantic. We ought to pass
Halifax in about three more days. As soon as we hit Halifax then we
will be in dangerous waters. The sea is rough but I had yet to know how
rough the North Atlantic is.
March 3
I am tired of the four to eight. Shep is starting to get on my
nerves but as I am his room mate, I guess I will have to get along with
him the best I can. He is always on my ear about cleaning up the room.
He don’t know it but the sooner he stops pestering me about cleaning the
room, the sooner it will be cleaned.
The Ensign used to be strict on us, how many times the guns were to be
cleaned. Now we are cleaning them whenever we feel they are necessary.
I went to bed late tonight about 1 a.m. If I had known what was in
store for us and how many sleepless nights I was soon to spend I would
have hit the hay 7 hrs. earlier.
March 4
Weather is gradually getting colder and the fog is starting to
set in. The convoy is going along on a fine clip. We are doing 9 knots
but we will have to cut down our speed when we join the main branch of
the convoy.
We now have about 25 ships with us and about 20 escort boats. It looks
like this trip isn’t going to be as bad as I thought it was. Tonight I
was out on deck and the sea was a beautiful sight to see. The moon is
out in full and the waves are rolling into breakers. Well, I guess I
will go down and hit the hay.
March 5
We picked up the main branch of the convoy about 7:30 a.m. and
it is a beautiful sight to see. There are now about 60 merchant vessels
with us and about 5 extra destroyers and a few more corvettes. The
waves are pounding against the port side and once or twice I thought it
was going to crash the bulkhead in.
It is about 7 p.m. and I am out on the gun deck doing my nightly watch.
I am just wondering when we will get back to the States again. The moon
isn’t out tonight and I am glad for that fact because if there are any
subs around it is good to be cloaked in darkness.
March 6
I got off guard at 8 a.m. and just as I was getting off, the sun
was raising so I stood on the gun deck and watched it come up. I always
like to see the sun come up in the morning because it gives me a sense
of security.
The convoy is now going about 7 knots. Tonight, as I am standing on the
watch, the fog is so thick you could cut it with a knife. The ships are
all blowing their fog warnings and it is a funny feeling to hear a horn
blow right next to your ear and then see it almost ram it.
The fog is getting thicker and thicker and I don’t like the looks of it.
I can hear the fog horns in the distance and they seem to get further
away at each toot.
March 7
I am on watch and the fog started to lift at about 6 a.m. I
can’t see any ships around so we must be lost from the convoy. It gives
me a sick feeling in the stomach because subs just wait for a chance
like this to get a lone unprotected ship.
As darkness descends my feeling turns to fear but I doubt that anything
will happen tonight. The Captain says, the convoy is to the north of us
and that we ought to see it tomorrow. Now I hope so because I don’t
like this traveling alone. I am going down to hit the hay but I don’t
think I will sleep very good tonight. But I am going to try it.
March 8
We have joined the convoy now and I am feeling safe again.
About 10 a.m. our cargo in the hold started shifting. It sounded like
we were hit by a torpedo but we weren’t. I went to sleep and about 12
a.m. one of the fellows came in to wake me up for chow. He told me that
we had an aircraft carrier with us and two destroyers. I went out on
the deck to see for myself and sure enough there it was dead ahead of
us.
Just about dusk we had our first warning. The destroyers started
dropping depth charges. Our cargo shifted again and we had to drop out
of the convoy. I don’t think any of us will get any sleep tonight. I
am going to try but I don’t think it will be much good.
March 10
I never want to live through another day like this one. It was
7:30 a.m. and we were still lost from the convoy. I was on guard when
all at once I felt the ship lurch and heard a grinding sound as if the
ship was hit and was cracking. I was looking out to sea and when I
turned around there on the port side the deck cargo broke loose from her
mooring and almost broke through the railing. This was only the
beginning.
We caught up to the convoy at 3:15 a.m. and I almost shouted for joy but
if I had known what was in store for us I would have cursed the day I
ever saw that convoy.
The 8 to 12 watch relieved us for chow and about 5:30 p.m. I was looking
out the starboard side. We were still about 2 miles from the convoy on
the after end but it looked as if the ships were right next to us.
I was looking at a munitions ship forward of the beam when suddenly the
sky seemed to be all lighted up. At first I thought it was the sun come
out but that was impossible because it was when the sun should be
setting. Bickers, the man on watch with me, hollered torpedo then ran
over and threw the bell for the general alarm.
It was then I saw a flare go up and then the ship blew up before my
eyes. I was so scared that I stood rooted to the spot for about 5
minutes. It was the first actual torpedo I had ever seen and I felt
like vomiting on the deck. I prayed to God that our ships wouldn’t be
next on the list.
Right after they blew up the munitions ship they let go and hit a cargo
ship on the port side of us. They must have been laying in wait for us
because our detectors on the destroyers and the corvettes didn’t pick
off a sound. It was a wolf pack and God knows how long they were
waiting for us to come.
The corvettes started dropping depth charges left and right and some
came so close to our ship that from the way it rocked the ship I thought
we had been torpedoed. They were the only two ships they let have it
that time. We secured the lookout at 7:30 p.m. and the men who weren’t
on regular watch went down in the galley to talk it over.
We were all down there at 10:15 p.m. since none of us could sleep, when
the second attack came. We ran up on deck and I saw one ship shooting
up flares, showing that she was sinking and another one was just getting
there. I don’t know why God spared us because one of the ships was
forward and the other was aft and we were in the middle.
This attack lasted for about an hour and they were the only two ships
molested. We went down the galley again and everybody was so jumpy that
all they would do was smoke one cigarette after another.
At 1:15 a.m. the worse attack of them all came. I was sitting near the
door with 2 life preservers on, a pair of dungarees, 3 sweaters, a fur
vest jacket, hat and gloves when we felt something hit our ship.
I jumped out of my chair with one thought in mind. We were hit and were
sinking. I had a pair of jungle cloth pants in my hand and still had
them when I ran out on deck and aft to the gun deck. I was just about
to climb the ladder and go to the deck when I heard Cates our cox holler
“Go to the boat decks we’ve been hit and are sinking.”
My heart jumped in my mouth and I thought it stopped beating. I ran as
fast as I could to the boat and the first one I came to was number 3 on
the starboard side. An ordinary seaman was already in the boat and was
putting in the plug, which was his job, when one gunner jumped in the
after part and another jumped into the bow.
I was just about to jump in myself. I had already thrown my jungle
cloth pants into the boat and had told Pepper Martin to hold on to them
until I got in. I was just about to jump for it when the ship rolled to
the starboard side and swung the boat from my reach. It was a good
thing it did because it was the only thing that saved my life.
A second after that, the ordinary seaman hollered for the man on the
davits to lower the boat into the water. The man was so excited that he
just let the slack off the davit and the line run through his fingers.
There was no man on the after davit and the boat swung down bow first.
I was on the edge of the ship where they had the scaling ladders ready
to go down them as soon as the ship touched the water so I saw every
thing that happened.
When the boat swung down bow first, Pepper was in the bow holding my
jungle cloth pants. I heard him scream then I saw him loose his balance
and [he was] tossed him in the water, then the boat landed on top of
him.
The ordinary seaman was the only one who had the common sense to hold
onto the lifeline when the boat was lowered. Wagner was tossed out into
the sea clear of everything. I have hope that he was picked up by
another ship but Pepper is a goner.
Number one boat was passing underneath where number 3 had been then I
saw the ordinary seaman jump into it. I felt myself being pulled away
from the edge. After that I couldn’t think clear because if it hadn’t
of been for the ship rolling at the time I was going to get in the boat
I would have been a goner along with Pepper.
I could see the Captain hollering to the men to lower the rest of the
life boats and the Chief, Cate, after seeing what happened to number 3
boat, went down to the boat deck to see that the rest of the boats were
lowered safely.
Number 4 lifeboat was the last to be lowered. After that hit the waves
the Ensign told the Gunner, that we’re left to go to the life rafts that
were aft and forward.
After number 3 boat capsized we saw a tanker get her end. All there was
to it was a great glowing light that lit the whole sky and then the
explosion followed. It made such a noise and seeing the men on her
decks being blown to bits that I didn’t care if I died or not.
All the time we were sending up flares and all the men had their red
lights turned on. Its a wonder that we weren’t shot at in the
confusion.
One of the gunners let loose 2 life rafts and nobody was on them. There
were only 3 rafts left and there were about 56 men. After all the boats
were gone and there wasn’t much hope left, the Ensign found out that we
weren’t hit. He figures we rammed a sub as she was submerging. A
submarine came up and shelled the ship in front of us. And the 4 inch
50s after gun they had, blew the sub out of the water with 3 shots. The
oil on the water was so thick you could have cut it with a knife.
We stayed up on the gun deck until the sun came up then some of us went
below and tried to get some sleep. The convoy had already left us and
we were by our self again. I don’t think there is much hope left
because if a sub spots us we are a goner.
March 11
I awoke at 7:30 after 3 hours sleep. One of the gunners came
down and shook me and told me one of our life boats was coming toward
the ship. Then I remember the events of last night and I thought it was
a nightmare. This thought only lasted a second until I went on deck and
saw the life boats missing and debris all over the deck.
I then proceeded up on the boat decks to lend a helping hand if one was
needed. It was then that I saw a corvette was with us there and then I
felt safe. From the boat decks I could see a life boat coming toward us
from the stern. In the bow was the Chief Cook and at the rudder was the
Boson. It took about a half hour until the boat could come alongside of
us. In it were 3 Gunners, the Boson, Chief Cook, ordinary seamen and
able bodied seamen. The Chief Mate wanted to see if they could hoist
the boat up but the sea was too rough and it was impossible.
When everybody was safe on board the ship started to get up steam and we
went full speed ahead. There were still 2 lifeboats not accounted for
one contained 5 people and the other one contained 25 merchantmen.
Altogether there were 31 men not accounted for, there is three that I
give up hope for, 2 jumped over board that I know of and the other one I
don’t know what happened to him.
The corvette signaled over to us and told us she was going back and
looking for survivors. My heart dropped out on the deck because, before
it should happen that we would be torpedoed, we had a damn good chance
of being picked up but now with 56 men and only 3 rafts it seemed
impossible that we would ever get picked up.
Our destination was changed we were to go to Belfast, Ireland instead of
Lockhue Scotland. We only have about 3 days more travel and I hope to
live to see land again.
March 12
We had no alarms during the night but I still didn’t sleep
good. I was eating in the galley this morning when an oiler from the
engine room came up and asked for volunteers to go down and work as
wipers. Me and another gunner went down with a kind of a shaky feeling
because if a torpedo hits that is where she aims for, the engine room.
I worked there until 12 o’ clock when I came up to eat chow.
I went out on the deck to see how things looked. The sea was calmer and
the weather looked fine. I was still shaky but this sort of cheered me
up.
I went down the engine room and stayed there till 5 p.m. when I knocked
off. The work is alright but you sweat like a pig. Most of the men
still seem shaked up but we are doing 13 knots and ought to see land in
two days.
March 13
Had about 3 hours sleep last night. Can’t sleep very good yet.
Had no alarms during the night. I pray to God that we don’t have any
more. I have seen enough action to last me a lifetime. At times I am
so jumpy that I am beginning to go crazy.
Went down the engine room and started to work. If anyone thinks that
wiping is easy they ought to try it. I don’t stand any sea watches now
that I am working. I stayed on deck until about 10 p.m. then I went
down to go to sleep.
I still can’t get the memory of that night out of my mind. I think when
I hit shore I will take to drink and try to forget it if that is
possible. Some of the boys are starting to get brave and are taking off
their rubber suits but are still sleeping with their preservers on. I
hope to God I never have to go to sea again.
March 14
Didn’t sleep very good last night, still no alarms. That is
comforting. It looks like we will reach land safe after all.
I went up on deck and could see land. I almost shouted with joy. We
were in the Irish sea. On the starboard side of us there was a convoy
of transports. They had a good escort and I could have almost jumped
overboard I was so filled with joy. My joy was short lived because
about 10 a.m. that morning I was sitting in the galley when I heard the
first depth charge go off. I was scared. I didn’t know what to do. I
ran out on deck and just about that time the depth charges started
dropping in earnest. There was 25 all together.
I curse the day I ever seen a convoy. It seems that every time we meet
a convoy we always get an alarm. Subs are lurking because a destroyer
sent up two flares . About 5:30 a.m. we were in safe anchorage. We
didn’t pull into port but expect to tomorrow. At least we’re safe.
__________
As a result of the above experience, Bruce’s story was broadcast October
21, 1943, on the radio show “Valor Knows No Creed.” The radio show was
aired weekly in the Philadelphia area on radio station WIP. Following
is an actual transcript of that broadcast. It is Copywrite protected and
not to be reprinted for financial gain or publication:
__________
“VALOR KNOWS NO CREED”
SCRIPT XVI October 21, 1943
MUSIC: (up and out)
ANNOUNCER: VALOR KNOWS NO CREED
MUSIC:
ANNOUNCER: WIP, in cooperation with the Philadelphia
Fellowship Commission presents the fourteenth in
a series of broadcasts dedicated to
Philadelphia’s heroic sons serving in the Armed
Forces of the United States. These dramatized
true stories are brought to you regularly
every Thursday night at this time.
MUSIC: (softly under)
NARRATOR: Cold winds are sweeping across the Atlantic
tonight…..Autumn’s prelude to the winter
which will soon hold the sea in its freezing
grasp. But…
SOUND: (Faint suggestion of sound of waves & wind)
come ice or sleet or storms, convoys of
hundreds of ships will continue to beat
their way over the vast expanse in a steady
unending, carrying precious cargoes of
munitions, food and medical supplies to
American fighters and their Allies abroad.
Every freighter is a link to their
life-line and on every ship of the Merchant
Marine a picked Navy gun crew stands guard
against the threat of submarine attack.
William Bruce Tinneny, of 4129 Pechin Street,
Roxborough, is one of those guards. He
is only eighteen, but in September of last
year he decided to enlist….(fade) (MUSIC OUT)
MOTHER: (calling) Did Bill go upstairs to do
his homework?
FATHER: (coming in) He went upstairs, but I’m
not too sure about the homework getting done.
MOTHER: That boy is so restless, lately! Pa,
you’ll have to talk to him.
He doesn’t concentrate on anything for more
than two minutes!
FATHER: (patiently) All boys are restless these
days, Mother, and he is growing up.
-2-
MOTHER: (sighing) Yes, I know. But these
younger ones, like Bill,
wanting to rush off…..
FATHER: (significantly) Has he said anything
to you — yet?
MOTHER: No-o-o. But I can see it coming! He’s
showing all the signs
of wanting to get into uniform just–
FATHER: (proudly) Just like his brother’s, eh?
MOTHER: Yes. Tom was the same way until he
joined the Navy.
FATHER: And so was Joe before–
BILL: (coming in) (breezily) And
what about our Joe? He’s a
sergeant in the air Corps already!
MOTHER: Bill! You gave me a freight coming in
like that.
FATHER: What about your lessons, son?
BILL: Aw, gee, Pop. I can’t seem to
get my mind on my books.
FATHER: Why not?
BILL: (hurriedly) Well, on account of
a lot of things. Y’know Ed
Martin, Pop? The fellow we call “Pepper”
Martin after the ball-payer? Well,
“Pepper” is signing up for the Navy.
FATHER Mmm-m. y’don’t say!
BILL: Yes, he is going down to the
recruiting office tomorrow. And
you know we’re buddies and he was saying
today it would be great if —
FATHER: Yes
BILL: — if we could go together!
MOTHER: Bill!
FATHER: Well, do you want to go?
BILL: (heartily) I’ll say I do.
MOTHER: But Bill — what about your school? you
ought to finish High School — you’ll be
called soon enough —
-3-
BILL: That’s just it! They’re going to
call 18 year olds. I saw it in the paper.
I might as well go now — with Pepper…
and I have a choice. I want to go in the
Navy. (appealing) Look Pop —
FATHER: (encouragingly) Yes, Bill…?
BILL: I want to serve…
FATHER: I know how you feel, boy. I tried
twice to enlist myself —
BILL: (awed surprise) You did!
FATHER: (bristling a bit) And why not? I’m
not quite 50. They turned me down once for
being too old and the second time because
of my eyes.
BILL: Gee, Pop. I didn’t know —
FATHER: (ruefully) So now I’ll fight all my
battles in a war plant.
MOTHER: (half in sorrow – half humorous) Well,
and it’s a good thing they turned you down
— or you’d all be running off and
leaving me —
FATHER: Now, Mother you know it’s only
because we want to —
MOTHER: I know. I know why you tried — still
you’d better give up the idea that you’re
as young as your sons!
FATHER: (resignedly) Yes, I guess I’ll have
to, at that!
MOTHER: (mischievously) Bill — I don’t see how
all your girlfriends at school and in the
neighborhood could get along without you!
BILL: Aw, now Mom — you know you are
the only sweetheart I’ve got, the only girl
I’ll miss — if I go away —
MOTHER: Bill! Not so tight!
(SOUND): (clatter of dishes)
MOTHER: There I nearly broke a plate!
BILL: (suddenly) But Pop you didn’t
say if I could —
FATHER: It’s all right. You go ahead down
with “Pepper” and if you pass your physical
you can go. But if you don’t — you’ll have
to promise to finish your high school course.
-4-
BILL: (eagerly) I promise, Pop.
MUSIC:
(Sound): Voices in background at recruiting station.
CPO: Tinneny! Martin! O.K. you two. You’re
accepted.
BILL-“PEPPER”: Swell! ‘Ray!
CPO: Fill out these papers, sign em and leave em at
the desk. You report back here 7 o’clock
Monday morning without fail, understand?
BILL-PEPPER: Yes sir!
CPO: Very little baggage. Your stuff will be issued.
BILL-PEPPER: Yes sir!
CPO: You’ll go to the great Lakes Training
station. Here, wear this armband.
MUSIC:
NARRATOR: Well! Things moved fast after that,
didn’t they Bill. The training period was
short but the course was very vigorous,
intensive…
BILL: And we thought high school was something!
PEPPER: Yeah. That was a cinch compared to this!
BILL: Would you rather be back?
PEPPER: Not on your life. No sir-ee.
BILL: I didn’t think you would either. I don’t know
how it is, but we work like the duce — and
feel like a million bucks!
BILL-PEPPER (both laugh) Uh-huh! And eat like a horse
— and always hungry!
SOUND: (BUGLE) Assembly
SOUND: (faint murmur and buzz of large gathering)
-5-
OFFICER: (echo chamber effect) That’s the story,
men. This is the first call issued in the
country. The Navy must man these merchant
ships with gun crews — as many as possible —
as quickly as possible. You know what the subs
are doing to our shipping. This type duty is
arduous and — it is dangerous. Therefore we
will take only volunteers. No one is required
to enter this branch of the service and if you
do not volunteer it will be no discredit to your
record. If you do volunteer and you are
accepted you will be sent immediately to
Gulfport, Mississippi, for special training.
Volunteers forward!
SOUND: Footsteps.
OFFICER: (calling off list) Cadet Tinneny.
Cadet Martin. (fading) Cadet….
MUSIC:
NARRATOR Your letter home said: “Dear Mom and Pop: I
graduated at Gulfport alright and am rated a
gunner and seaman first class. We were sent
immediately to New Orleans. (Pepper and I are
still together) and we are assigned to a
freighter for our first trip — to Puerto
Rico ……(fade)
1st Seaman: Hey, you guys. Come over here to the
rail. Look what’s coming up the gang-plank!
2nd Seaman: Well, waddya know! the Navy on parade!
3rd Seaman: This must be the outfit that is going
to handle the new gun.
1st Seaman: Dey look like a buncha kids to me!
2nd Seaman: Yea. Even the top-kick — or what
ever he is — oughta be wearin’ short pants.
Listen!
ENSIGN: Ensign Wagner, U.S. Navy, Sir. Reporting with
gun-crew. May I see the captain?
-6-
MATE: (easy) Glad to meet you Ensign. I’m first
mate. MacDonald. Jim MacDonald.
ENSIGN: Thanks, glad to know you MacDonald.
MATE: (Trifle doubtfully) This your crew?
Look a little young to me.
ENSIGN: (confidentially) Yes. They’re young
alright. But they know their business.
MATE: (not unpleasant but still skeptical)
I hope so. Leave them at ease on deck. I’ll
take you to the Captain’s quarters.
(fading off)
1st Seaman: (heavy sarcasm)Are you sure you boys
are old enough to go on this ride? You might
get sea-sick you know!
BILL: Oh yeah!
2nd Seaman: (feigning wonder) We didn’t know the
Navy is taking kids outta kindergarten.
3rd Seaman: No I didn’t either! No wonder they
wanta draft fathers. They musta run out of
other men!
Ed: You guys can’t be so tough. They had to send us
here to guard you!
1st Seaman: Oh-h-h! Izzat-so? Well, we kin
look out for ourselves, fresh guy!
We been torpedoed a few times. It’s the ship
you come to guard, not us, see.
2nd Seaman: Yeah! And you better be able to hit
a sub when you see it.
MATE: Alright, alright. Break it up.
Show these men to their quarters.
3rd Seaman: (fading off) This way to the fo’c’sle!
MUSIC:
-7-
NARRATOR: (as if still reading Bill’s letter) That
West Indies trip was just a pleasant run
folks, and there was no trouble at all. we
had a couple of false alarms. But didn’t see
a single sub. By the time you get this it will
be alright for you to know that I am on my way
to Russia…” Yes Bill, and probably on your
way to trouble, too… on that convoy route to
Murmansk…across the Atlantic…along the
top of the North Sea…past Reykjavik, Iceland,
and over the top of Norway and Sweden…the
toughest, the coldest, the gloomiest and
windiest run in the service.
SOUND: (door opens to roar of wind, swish of sea)
PEPPER: Close it quick, Bill!
SOUND: Door closing shutting out nearly all sound.
BILL: (explosively from cold) Whew! How’s about some
of that hot java. Say, Pepper, if it’s like
this now what’s it going to be when we get
further north?
PEPPER: We’ll probably come into Murmansk all
covered with ice — like a ghost ship — if we
get there!
BILL: Oh, we’ll get there, alright. Look we’re
out now — how long? — about seven days?…
PEPPER: Yeah! It’s just a week. Remember,
we made the rendezvous with the rest of the
convoy the second day out.
BILL: That’s when our plane escort left
us and we were picked up by the destroyers.
1st Seaman: (on edge) Forget it, you guys. You
can go nuts on this route trying to figure out
what’s going to happen. Pass the coffee pot.
2nd Seaman (solemnly) Yeah! This is one run
where you just gotta wait…and wait…and wait.
1st Seaman: Aw-right, so what? Pipe down!
3rd Seaman: (brightly) Sure, if it’s gonna
happen. It’s gonna happen that’s all!
-8-
SOUND: EXPLOSION! (Not on this ship, but the one
nearest it is blown up)
BILL: and it DID happen! Come on Pepper.
VOICES: If you guys hadn’t talked so much —
Hurry up. Let’s get on deck. Are we hit?
You might think we did it ourselves —
I didn’t feel nothin’ — only heard it!
Get through that hatch!
SOUND: (on deck) Bell ringing. running feet.
VOICE: ALL HANDS ON DECK!
ENSIGN: GUN CREW TO STATIONS!
SOUND: (ON BRIDGE — SAME AS ABOVE — BUT IN
BACKGROUND)
CAPTAIN: Now, Mister, follow that zig-zag course.
HELMSMAN: Aye sir.
CAPTAIN: Full steam.
MATE: Full steam.
CAPTAIN: Well, we’re on our way now, for awhile, anyway.
MATE: If it wasn’t for the fog, sir —
CAPTAIN: Well try to keep some of the ships in
sight, but our orders are for the convoy ships
to scatter.
MATE: too bad for the freighter!
CAPTAIN: blasted amidships. And she was carrying
ammunition!
MATE: (sadly) The crew —
CAPTAIN: (a bit sharply) If any survived, they’ll
be picked up by the escort. We have to keep going.
MATE: I understand, sir.
CAPTAIN: It may be a wolf pack — or just a lone
sub. can’t tell yet. (fade)
-9-
NARRATOR: And it was hours before the real danger
was known. Long. cold hours of watchfulness
on deck as the grey day faded into
a black night. The convoy had just reunited
when…
SOUND: EXPLOSION!
CAPTAIN: Another one gone! It’s a pack, alright,
and they’re still on our tail! Did you check
our black-out?
MATE: It’s complete, sir; not a light showing.
CAPTAIN: then order motors cut to lowest speed,
and complete silence through-out the ship.
The sound detectors will be trying to
pick us up.
MATE: (repeating order) Cut engines to lowest (fade).
BILL: (subdued Tone) It looks like we may be next
Pepper.
PEPPER: I hope not. Maybe we can slip through the dark.
BILL: Yes but we’re scattering again. That’s the way
a U-boat pack operates. Make the convoy
scatter then pick off the stragglers.
SOUND: another explosion (more distant).
PEPPER: (dully) Maybe you’re right. There
goes No. 3. See off the starboard. Must be
about a mile away.
BILL: Yeah. It’s a rotten night to go overside.
PEPPER: This quiet riding gives me the creeps!
BILL: S — sh!
ENSIGN: (Hoarse whisper) Quiet, there!
SOUND: Terrific boom and jarring (Sounds
like but is not an explosion).
PEPPER: This time WE got it. We’re hit!
BILL: Got your life-belt on?
PEPPER: Yes. Got yours?
SOUND: Bell.
MATE: (Filter) Prepare to abandon. all hands to
boat stations.
CPO: (closer) (ditto) (ditto)
-10-
SOUND: Running feet. Boat davits squeaking.
Shouts
PEPPER: (sudden frantic cry) Bill! Bill! where
you going? Come back here!
BILL: I’m going to get my leather jacket. You
know the one my brother gave me. Be right
back!
PEPPER: You’re suppose to be in this boat
with me! You’ll be left behind. Bill.
CPO: Alright. No. 3 boat. Lower away – Hey!
SOUND: Shouts. Screams. Splashes. Sound
of boat hitting side of ship.
CPO: Grab the rope!
SEAMAN: It broke.
2nd SEAMAN: She capsized.
CPO: Overboard with those rafts. Quick.
1st SEAMAN: The boat struck some of ’em. They’re gone.
2nd SEAMAN: Poor “Pepper”.
SOUND: Hatch closing. Footsteps. (The
uproar on deck is faint).
ENSIGN: (breathing hard) Tinneny. Has our
gun crew gone?
BILL: Most of ’em were in the boats, sir. I just
came back for —
ENSIGN: (snapping) Never mind. Hurry out and
round up as many of ’em as you can. Any
seaman. Any officers. We’re not sinking.
I inspected the damage below. We weren’t
torpedoed. We rammed a sub. And we can
still save the ship.
BILL: (running up) Bob! The ensign
says don’t leave. Tell everybody you can
find. Where’s Pepper… the boat?
1st SEAMAN: Easy, son. You just missed getting it.
BILL: The ropes are broken —
1st SEAMAN: She capsized. “Pepper” went down just
under it. The gunwale cracked his skull.
-11-
BILL: (sobbing) “Pepper” — “Pepper” — gone!
SOUND: GUN FIRING.
SEAMAN: What the —?
BILL: It’s the ensign — at the gun —
alone — come on.
ENSIGN: Another shell quickly, Tinneny.
BILL: Yes, sir.
SOUND: Click of gun breaches. Shot.
BILL: Was it a sub?
ENSIGN: (chuckling) It was two of ’em. I
didn’t have very good range. But it was close
enough to make ’em submerge. Now we’ve
got to count noses…
MUSIC:
NARRATOR: Most of the officers and crew had abandoned
ship. the ensign asked for volunteers to
man the engine-room — and again you stepped
forward, didn’t you, bill? For four days you
labored and sweated with three other men down
in the vitals of the ship. You stoked coal
in the boilers, you oiled the engines and
helped keep the turbines running. You worked
like a madman. Without sleep and with
very little food…. Knowing all the while
that any moment if a torpedo struck you would
be… Well you didn’t mind. It eased your
grief over “Pepper” and your other lost
mates… They would have wanted to bring
that ship and it’s cargo in… and you helped
to do it!
VOICE: (reading citation)
“Seaman First Class Tinneny disregarded
personal danger and although not familiar
(reading citation) with the work for which
he had volunteered helped keep the turbines
in operation until the ship reached port
safely with the result that vital cargo was
delivered to the allies. This act of
heroism reflects the heroic actions which
are a credit to him and the United States
Armed Forces.”
MUSIC: UP
-12-
ANNOUNCER: This story of a Philadelphia hero is the story
of millions of American boys – marching,
fighting and sometimes dying together, to
preserve their common heritage for future
generations. Bruce Tinneny is a Catholic boy.
Next week’s hero may be a Protestant
or a Jew, for VALOR KNOWS NO CREED. He may
be a Swede, an Irishman or a Pole. He may be
a white or a Negro. These boys, fighting
our battles, bleeding and dying in many
parts of the world, for our safety
and our security, make no distinctions of
race, color or creed among their comrades.
They are Americans all. Shoulder to shoulder,
united in the faith of American brotherhood,
in common love to God and Country, they
fight for the right to be what they are —
They fight, and perhaps die, so that we may
continue to live for that day when
peace shall bless the people of the world
and none to make them afraid.
MUSIC: (up and out)
ANNOUNCER: And so the curtain falls on the fourteenth
chapter of the new series, “VALOR KNOWS NO
CREED.” Speakers and literature to promote
a better understanding and spiritual unity
between all racial and religious groups are
available free, and can be obtained
from the Philadelphia Fellowship Commission.
If you would like to have a copy of the script
of this broadcast and those to follow, or if
you would like to send a copy to your friends
and relatives in the Armed Services, write
the Philadelphia Fellowship Commission,
1431 Brown Street, Philadelphia, Pa.
Next Thursday, at 8:40 p.m. WIP will bring you
another in the series of “VALOR KNOWS NO
CREED.”
MUSIC.
_________
Bruce was aboard the merchant ship described in the above accounts when
it limped into Belfast, Northern Ireland, for repairs. While there he
tried unsuccessfully to find Irish Tinneny cousins. Although he didn’t
know it, James Tinneny and his family, including his eldest daughter
Mary (Mary Tinneny O’Kane presently of Limavady, Northern Ireland), were
living nearby in the small town of Strabane. Their home was not far
from the American Navy Base in Belfast where the damaged ship and Bruce
were housed while the ship underwent repairs.
Another account of the fateful cruise of the Wynkoop, which Bruce had
described in his diary was provided to me by Mr. Thomas R. Bowerman of
Anniston, Alabama. Mr. Bowerman also served with the Armed Guard aboard
the merchant ships during the war. As of 1997, he managed the data base
for the U.S.N. Armed Guard WW II Veterans Association. He obtained the
below account from a work titled A Careless Word … A Needless Sinking,
Sixth Printing 1993, page 401 by Captain Arthur R. Moore which was
published by the American Merchant Marine Museum.
Captain Moore’s account follows:
“The Liberty Ship, SS Wynkoop, struck an unidentified object at 0350 GCT
March 11, 1943 in the North Atlantic (51.19 North/29.21 West) while en
route in Convoy HX-228 (#22) from New York to Belfast, Northern Ireland
with 8300 tons of cargo including ammunition and a deck cargo of
tractors and trucks. Her complement was 41 merchant crew and 25 Naval
Armed Guard. Two crew members and one Navy man were lost.
After straggling for two days due to heavy seas, the ship had finally
regained the convoy. At 0350 GCT, the ship suffered a violent shock
forward causing her to roll heavily to starboard and then right herself.
From the below decks there was a rumbling and roaring sound as if
something was rolling along under the hull of the ship. After this
initial shock, the sea was covered with oil. the Master stopped the
engines for a short time after the impact. Flares were fired and 2 red
lights displayed signaling the ship was hit. It is assumed the ship
collided with a submerged submarine and in all likelihood sank it. The
ship made Belfast under her own power.
After impact, some of the crew assumed the order to abandon ship had
been given, and lowered lifeboats into a very rough sea. The # 3
lifeboat was lost while being lowered and the 3 men in it were thrown
into the sea and never seen again. When it was determined that the
abandon ship order had not been given, no further action was taken to
abandon ship. Thirty-three men, including 7 Navy gunners, had abandoned
ship. At 5:30 GCT, the Master got the ship underway and cruised around
picking up the lifeboats. Sixteen men were picked up by the French
corvette Aconit (K-58) and landed at the River Clyde. The British SS
Stuart Prince picked up 5 men and landed them at Liverpool, [England].
One man, who had jumped overboard, was picked up by H.M.S. Sundew (K-57)
and landed in Glasgow [Scotland].”
The following article telling of Bruce’s experience and heroism during
the war was published in the internal newsletter at the plant where his
father worked. It describes the incident and citation from the “Valor
Knows No Creed” radio transcript. It also tells of two other combat
incidents that he was involved in while serving as a gunner on the
merchant ships in the North Atlantic.
__________
NAVY CITATION
Call it luck, good fortune anything you will, the fact remains
that Wm. B. J. Tinneny, S1/C, 18 years of age, member of a gun crew
aboard a ship of the Merchant Marine and son of Mr. James Tinneny of our
Pattern shop, is still alive to tell of his hair-raising experiences
since joining the Navy.
His first ship rammed a submarine while en route to Murmansk,
Russia, and after seeing other ships in the convoy being blown to bits,
theirs had to limp into Belfast, Ireland, for repairs.
The second ship he was on, was ordered to fall out of line from
the convoy, due to engine trouble. The ship that replaced it in line
was torpedoed shortly after.
The next ship he was assigned to was torpedoed about 162 miles
off Halifax, Nova Scotia. The craft was split in two, the half he was
on remaining afloat because of a water-tight bulkhead, and managed to
make port. Now he is serving on another Liberty ship.
The following is a part of the citation he received from the
Navy Department: – “Reports of the experience reveal that you were a
member of the Naval Armed Guard Unit aboard an American merchantman
which was subjected to viciously repeated attacks of great numbers of
enemy German submarines. When with terrific impact the vessel struck an
unidentified submerged object, many crew members, through a coincidence
of separate signals, believed the order had been given to abandon ship,
and took to the lifeboats, leaving the engine room partially unmanned.
Although such action was clearly beyond the scope of your already
assigned duty, you unhesitatingly volunteered to take the place of
missing engine room seamen and performed a difficult and unfamiliar task
in such a manner that the turbines were kept in operation and a vital
cargo was delivered to an ally.”
To this we can add only an entirely inadequate, “Good Luck,” and
god Bless You, S1/C Tinneny!
_________
The actual United States Navy commendation that Bruce received for his
actions when his ship rammed the submarine ) Correspondence Reference
Number Pers-650-RwB MM/651-48-01) follows:
__________
Navy Department
BUREAU OF NAVAL AFFAIRS
WASHINGTON, D.C.
AUG. 25, 1943
From: Chief of Naval Personnel
To: TINNENY, William Bruce Joseph, Seaman First Class, V6,
U. S. Naval Reserves
Via: Commanding Officer, Armed Guard Center, Receiving
Station, New Orleans, Louisiana.
Subj: Commendation
1. The Chief of Naval Personnel takes pleasure in commending you for
meritorious conduct during a recent hazardous voyage through the North
Atlantic war zone.
2. Reports of the experience indicate that you were a member of the
Naval Armed Guard Unit aboard an American merchantman which was
subjected to the viciously repeated attacks of a great number of enemy
German submarines. When with terrific impact the vessel struck an
unidentified submerged object, many crew members, through a coincidence
of separate signals, believed the order had been given to abandon ship
and took to the lifeboats, leaving the engine room partially unmanned.
Although action was clearly beyond the scope of your already assigned
duty, you unhesitatingly volunteered to take the place of the missing
engine room seaman and performed a difficult and unfamiliar task in such
a manner that the turbines were kept in operation and a vital cargo was
delivered to an ally.
3. The outstanding cooperation and unfailing devotion to duty which you
displayed during the above emergency were in keeping with the best
traditions of the Naval Service.
4. A copy of this record has been made an official part of your record
in the Bureau.
[SIGNED]
Randall Jacobs
_________
As if the experience aboard the Wynkoop wasn’t enough, on March 4, 1944,
Bruce was a member of the Armed Guard crew aboard another Liberty ship
the S.S. Joel Poinsett when it foundered and broke in two in very heavy
seas while enroute from Liverpool, England to New York in Convoy ON 225.
The Poinsett was built in February 1943 at Houston, Texas. Its
dimensions were 447ft. by 57ft by 37ft. It was owned by the Standard
Fruit & Steam Ship Company of New York.
According to an account provided in Art Moore’s book, A Careless Word,
the ship’s position was at the rear of the 5th column of the convoy.
The wind was force 8 from the west north west with very poor visibility.
All hands who abandoned ship were rescued by the British freighter S.S.
Eddystone and taken to Halifax, Nova Scotia. The ship broke in two.
Mr. Moore went on to describe in his work how the master of the Poinsett
reported a loud report like an explosion followed by two smaller ones.
The ship had been vibrating badly in the heavy seas for several days.
The ship broke in two forward of the midship house. The bow section
sank but the stern section was towed to Halifax, arriving there at 2200
[10:00p.m.] on March 22, 1944. The section of the ship that was towed
into Halifax was subsequently used for storage.
From time to time Bruce was given leave when the ships that he was on
were in England. On several occasions he spent these leaves visiting
with his brother Joe who was a sergeant in the Army Air Corps’ 8th Air
Force stationed at the Royal Air Force Base at Bury Saint Edmund,
England.
During those visits Joe, Bruce, and some of Bruce’s shipmates would
enjoy evenings of drinking in the local pubs near the base. On at least
one occassion Bruce and three or four of his buddies got into a fight in
one of Joe’s favorite watering holes that resulted in the pub being
wrecked. Needless to say, Joe got mad over the incident.
On another occassion Bruce and Joe were headed back to the base after a
night in the pubs. Joe was armed with his military weapon, and the two
of them were shooting the gun which was against both military and
civilian rules.
In addition to serving as a gunner with the Armed Guard crews aboard the
S.S. Henry Wynkoop and the S.S. Joel Poinsett described above, Bruce
also served aboard the S.S. John H. Murphy, S.S. Paulsboro and two
assignments to the crew of the U.S.S. Auk during the war.
He, also served two brief shore assignments at the Armed Guard Command
(AGC) in Brooklyn, New York, where he was probably awaiting assignments
to other ships.He was also assigned to the U.S. Navy Hospital at
Portsmouth, Virginia.
Bruce’s distinguished and heroic wartime service lasted three years,
three months and one day and ended when he was honorably discharged from
the Navy at the United States Navy Personnel Separation Center,
Bainbridge, Maryland, on Christmas Eve, December 24, 1945. He had risen
through the ranks from apprentice seaman, eeaman second class to the
rank of seaman first class. His discharge was signed by Lieutenant (JG)
J.R. Etz, Assistant Records Officer, of the Separation Center. Bruce
received his final pay from Lieutenant Commander John J. Noone, Jr.,
which amounted to $61.44, including $3.20 travel pay. He returned to
Philadelphia and to the family home at 4129 Pechin Street where he
celebrated Christmas 1945.
Civilian life took some getting used to and living again in his parent’s
home presented some real adjustment problems. Sunday mornings in the
Tinneny house always had a very definite routine which included going to
Mass. This was a cardinal rule of Bruce’s father. His philosophy was
that if you lived in his house, no matter what, you got up out of bed
and went to church on Sunday morning.
Bruce’s brother Donald recalled that the first Sunday Bruce was home
from the war he had been out drinking with his friends the night before
and didn’t get home until very early Sunday morning. Donald said
everyone in the family except Bruce went to Mass at Saint John’s at some
point throughout the morning. Bruce’s father said nothing that first
Sunday; however, the next Sunday was another story.
The next week his father came home from Mass at about noon and called up
the stairs to the third floor for Bruce to come down. Bruce said
something about not being dressed and, in his own very special way, Jim
convinced Bruce that he had better get down to the living room without
delay.
When he did, his father started out by reminding Bruce that when he was
a boy he could take him by the hand and make him go to Mass. He told
Bruce in no uncertain terms that in the future, as long as he lived in
his house, he would get up out of bed and leave the house for at least
an hour every Sunday morning. His father said that although he hoped
Bruce would go to Mass during that hour, he could go to his friends, to
the taproom, or anyplace else; but he wasn’t going to lay in bed on
Sunday mornings.
His father then told Bruce that if he ignored the warning and stayed in
bed again on Sunday morning, he would come up to his room and if his
bags were packed, he would take them out into the front yard and Bruce
with them. He said if the bags weren’t packed, he would throw Bruce’s
cloths out the window into the yard and Bruce would follow.
From that day on, no matter how tough a Saturday night Bruce had, he got
up every Sunday morning and left the house for an hour. On some Sundays
he jumped back into bed after spending his hour out. For a time after
the war, Bruce also lived with his brother John [ my father and our
family] at 4741 Fowler Street.
After the war Bruce found work as a welder with the ITE Circuit Breaker
Company. Then he worked as a welder with General Electric Corporation
at their 69th and Elmwood Avenue plant in Philadelphia.
After he left the Navy he became a lifetime member of the Disabled
American Veterans. This group champions the causes of veterans of the
military service who have service connected disabilities.
On June 19, 1948, Bruce married Dorothea Patricia “Dot” Kottler. Dot
was the daughter of the Tinneny neighbors Gustave Kottler and Marion
Mary Platchek who lived at 4133 Pechin Street in Philadelphia. Bruce
and Dot were married at Saint John the Baptist Church. The sponsors for
their wedding were Bruce’s brother John P. Tinneny and Mary Haggerty a
friend of Dot’s. The wedding was followed by a reception at the
Manayunk Club which was a private club that was frequented by Bruce and
his brothers and sisters.
After their marriage Dot and Bruce lived in an apartment on Tulpehocken
Street in the Germantown section of Philadelphia near Bruce’s work.
They then moved in with Dot’s mother at 4133 Pechin Street. In 1954
they moved from Philadelphia to Stratford, New Jersey, which is about a
half hour drive from Philadelphia. There, they bought a home at 58 West
Temple Avenue. It was while they lived in Stratford that their two
children Gail Patricia and Bruce Joseph Tinneny were born.
They lived in Stratford until 1960 when they returned to Philadelphia
and lived again at 4132 Pechin Street in Roxborough. Then, for a short
time, they lived in a house on East Street prior to purchasing their
home at 4215 Pechin Street.
In the late 1960s, Bruce left the welding trade and got a job with the
United States Postal Service. His initial work there involved sorting
the mail. He subsequently moved to the parcel section where he worked
until he was medically retired in 1980.
About May 1980, Bruce was diagnosed with cancer of the lung. Although
exploratory surgery was performed, it was determined that the cancer was
inoperable, and Bruce was told that he had six months to live. This
projection was correct nearly to the day. Toward the end, his son slept
in a bed in the living room on the first floor of his home. Usually his
son Bruce slept there also, to be available if Bruce needed assistance
during the night. During the night of November 18th, young Bruce was
awakened by his father who had begun severely hemorrhaging and within
minutes Bruce was dead.
Throughout his adult life Bruce was an avid gambler. He liked to bet on
the horse races and sports games. The night before he died he bought
into a football pool and put the ticket into his pajama shirt pocket.
After he passed away, his body was taken to the funeral home of the
local undertaker, William P. Koller. Mr. Koller called Dot a short time
after receiving the body and told her that he had found the betting
ticket for the football pool in Bruce’s pocket.
It turned out that it was a winning ticket, and the local bookie brought
a payment of $50.00 to the house. Dot and the children placed the
winning ticket in Bruce’s pocket at the funeral, and that token of his
great interest in betting went with him to the grave.
Bruce’s viewing was held at the Koller Funeral Home on November 21st.
The next day, after a Mass of Christian burial at Saint John the Baptist
Church in Manayunk, he was laid to rest in Westminister Cemetery, high
above the west bank of the Schulykill River across from Manayunk. His
obituary in the neighborhood newspaper The Review read as follows:
__________
BRUCE TINNENY DIES; NAVY HERO IN WAR
As a young man he went off to war at age 18 serving in the
United States Navy Reserve in 1943. He signed up after his brothers and
several of his pals had enlisted. And he became a hero in the waters of
the North Atlantic war zone.
W. Bruce Tinneny, husband of Mrs. Dorothea Kottler Tinneny, 4215
Pechin St. died Nov. 18 at home. He was 55. He was a member of the
Disabled American War Veterans.
Mr. Tinneny was commended by the Bureau of Naval Personnel for
“meritorious conduct during a hazardous voyage.” He was a member of a
Naval Armed Guard Unit aboard an American merchant ship that was
subjected to repeated attacks by a great number of German submarines.
Mr. Tinneny’s ship struck an underwater object and many crew
members, through a coincidence of separate signals, believed the order
had been given to abandon ship. They took to the lifeboats leaving the
engine room partially unmanned. Mr. Tinneny hustled to the engine room.
The Naval commendation in citing his heroic effort said:
“Although such action was clearly beyond the scope of your already
assigned duty, you unhesitatingly volunteered to take the place of the
missing engine room seaman and performed a difficult and unfamiliar task
in such a manner that the turbines were kept in operation and a vital
cargo was delivered to an ally.” Mr. Tinneny’s ship made it to
Murmansk.
The Navy Dept. said that Mr. Tinneny’s “outstanding co-operation
and unfailing devotion to duty during the emergency were in keeping with
the best traditions of the Naval service.”
Mr. Tinneny is also survived by a son Bruce J.; a daughter, Mrs.
Gail McBride; four brothers, James; John; Thomas and Donald; three
sisters, Mrs. Mary Haughey; Mrs. Clare Kelly; Mrs. Trudy Gallagher; and
two grandchildren.
Arrangements were by Koller Funeral Home, 6835 Ridge Ave. Mass
of Christian Burial was celebrated November 22 at St. John the Baptist
Church. Burial was in Westminister Cemetery.
__________
POSTSCRIPT
As of 1996, Dot remains in the family home on Pechin Street. She keeps
busy helping her son Bruce as secretary-receptionist in his plumbing
business, going to Betterton, Maryland with the family on summer
weekends and traveling. Bruce owns and manages a successful plumbing
business and lives in Fort Washington, Pennsylvania, just outside
Philadelphia with his wife Carol and their children Bruce and Eric.
Gail lives in Florida with her husband Jim Bullock and their children
Ian and Ryan. Gail’s two older sons Kevin and Timothy no longer live at
home.