From Deseret News archives:
History fair honors ship's survivors
317 lived to tell about sinking of USS Indianapolis
He wondered what happened to cause nearly all the crew to be killed by sharks or dehydration in that history-making event at the end of World War II.
Scott, now 19, delved deeper into the story of the Navy cruiser that delivered atomic bomb parts to the island of Tinian for the B-29 Enola Gay to drop over Hiroshima in August 1945.
After leaving Tinian, the Indianapolis was torpedoed twice on its way to Leyte, Philippines. The worst naval disaster of the war ended with only 317 men (of a crew of nearly 1,200) left alive after five days in the water.
The ship's commander, Capt. Charles B. McVay III, was court-martialed for dereliction of duty.
Scott, who started the ball rolling in the exoneration of McVay, helped write the book, "Left for Dead, A Young Man's Search for Justice for the USS Indianapolis." He spoke this past week to a packed house in the Utah State University ballroom as part of Cache Valley's first World War II History Fair to honor veterans.
The 800 folding chairs set up in the ballroom weren't enough to seat the crowd that came to hear Scott and others, including Salt Lake City resident Woody James, a survivor of the sinking.
Two other Utahns, Brian Blanthorn of Grouse Creek and George Whitting of St. George, also survived the sinking. Blanthorn was at the event, but Whitting couldn't make it, James said.
Kim Nielsen of Hyrum organized the event, saying she wants to honor the men and women of World War II before it is too late. She asked local people to make displays relating to the war — some 60 exhibits were set up outside the ballroom on topics ranging from boats, war-time fashions for women, books and pictures of the era.
James, a native of Alabama who was traveling around the country right after the war, said he ended up drunk and broke in Salt Lake City in 1946 and has been there ever since.
"I married a girl from Orem with six kids, and she helped me straighten up my life," he said.
As a coxswain on the Indianapolis, James' battle station was in Turret No. 1. Just before midnight on July 30, 1945, James finished his watch and went downstairs to get a blanket so he could sleep under the turret's overhang. He hadn't been asleep long when the first torpedo hit, shaking the ship and rolling him around the deck. Then the second one hit and he knew it would be bad, he said.
"The first torpedo took 60 feet off the bow of the ship, and we were just like a scoop making 17 knots," he said.
