CTR1 George Morton remembers the shock of returning to the base and learning about the fire:

On 24 September 1965 the Operations Building in front of the tunnel caught fire early in the morning. It resulted in the deaths of 12 CT’s including the Officer of the Day, LTJG Moody, who bravely went into the flames to help save some who were inside. Ironically, item number three on the Plan of the Day for 23 September 1965 was a Disaster Control Drill.

I had the eve watch on the 24th. I knew nothing about the fire as I was somewhere in Chinatown, oblivious to the rest of the world.

I returned to the base and the scene of unbelievable destruction. We were mustered on our inspection spaces in front of the barracks and informed we would go on watch as usual.

I went to the work spaces early with others. The wooden building in front of the tunnel was gone, a mound of ashes and metal. Off to the left, in the parking lot, was an area fenced off that contained classified ash and was guarded by a CT seaman.

Fire trucks were still there, U.S. Army communications vans; and standing there looking on in disbelief was Captain Pearson. He was the Commanding Officer of one of the finest Security Group stations and now it had been knocked down for a nine count, but it would get up and go on to further victories.

We had to enter our work spaces that day from the back of the tunnel. Not a surprise, it smelled strongly of smoke. The tunnel was closed down, functions taking place elsewhere on the island of Honshu.

Several years later he was asked to expand on his earlier recollections of the fire. He wrote the following:

RECOLLECTIONS OF THE FIRE

By George Morton

The night the fire at Kamiseya took place September 23, 1965 my section was off. We had the Eve Watch that day. I was completely oblivious of the fire when I came through the front gate and started for the barracks.

It looked no different to me than any other day as there was no fire equipment or trucks running around and people were walking and talking as they always did. Nothing seemed different to me. Maybe I was just not too observant in those days.

I went to my room, which was occupied by just myself, as no other First Class had been assigned with me, and I secretly hoped that none would be.

I don’t recall who it was that was shaving when I entered the head to shower and shave, but he remarked to me something like, “One hell of a blaze last night wasn’t it?”

Asked what blaze and he stopped shaving to tell me all about it. How the building in front of the tunnel had burned down and that there were at least eight to ten people who had died in the fire. They still didn’t have the full count.

I quickly showered and shaved and went to my room to dress for the Eve. I wasn’t even sure now if I would have an Eve Watch.

Then a couple of my friends showed up. Duane Leifur and Jim Sullivan, two other First Class. They had more information they shared with me.

They had heard that the fire had started in the building out front of the tunnel, and also that there had been a burn detail. The furnace used was too hot and ignited the wood in the building. It was so old and dry it went right up. They had also heard there were eight people who had died in the fire including the OOD, LTJG Moody.

The early story was that he heard screams coming from the second floor of the building by someone trapped up there. He went into the building from the side entrance between the tunnel and the building. It collapsed on him and others who were trapped there.

About that time we were informed everyone, from all the barracks, were to form up outside in their respective inspection spots for muster. We lined up with the rest and answered when our name was called. Everyone knew they were trying to be sure just how many were dead, still accounting for people – many still downtown.

After muster, a Lieutenant began to inform us of the circumstances of the fire. He said that the tunnel was useless as far as operations were concerned. All assigned posits had been transferred to other stations like Misawa or Okinawa and other places that could handle the load.

The P & R Sections would be able to function in the back area and we were told no special assignments were being set up. If you had the Eve Watch, you showed up, if you had the day off, you were on liberty.

We were told stories, second hand in some cases, but others by people who were there. They were sad stories.

One was about a CTSN who stood by that night for his buddy. He stood by and he died in the fire. As I remember, it shook the other friend up quite a bit. He kept saying it should have been him and not his friend that died.

Between the tunnel and the wooden building that burned to the ground, was a passageway, constructed of wood.

Halfway between the exit of the tunnel and the area where the Marine Guard stood at the gate entrance, was an exit. Outside this exit was where swabs, etc. could be found for Field Day. Everyone knew it [the exit] was there.

When the time came to abandon the tunnel, lights went out, smoke filled the tunnel and as the men began to leave (as the story goes) they walked slowly with a hand on the shoulder of the man in front of them.

They were going (wrongly) to the Marine Guard Gate in the wooden building. It seems they did not know it was that building that was ablaze.

As the story goes, and I believe as the investigation showed, when these 10 men reached the gate it was locked and the Marine (of course because of the fire) was gone. They had no place to go but back into what they thought was the fire. These were new men and DID NOT KNOW about the Exit outside in the passageway.

As my recollection goes; those ten men were joined by LTJG Moody, who was the OOD that night. He had come down to the fire scene. He, LTJG Moody, heard one man who was still topside of the wooden building crying out for help as the ladder from topside had been burned away.

The second floor of the wooden building was being used by linguists, and as the story went, this CT was one of the last to leave. He was trying to fight the fire that was coming up through the floor from the first floor. By the time he decided to leave, the stairs were on fire. Being a classified space, there were bars on the windows. He couldn’t even jump out. Mr. Moody heard his screams, and I believe he was the building officer – he went through the exit from the passageway and into the wooden building.

It appears that what he found was ten sailors with no where to go. He most likely would have tried to lead them back to that Exit, but the building came down around them.

Mr. Moody and the ten men were found near the gate and of course the CT topside perished also. That was the 12 men who died in the fire.

If I am not mistaken, because it rings fresh in my memory, the sailor, the CT who was topside that died in the fire was CT3 Archie R. Garofalo. The reason I remember was because he was going with the daughter of the Mama-san who owned the GREEN HOUSE outside the base.

Another reason I remember is that girl, now (then) a teen-ager, had been a young child when I left on my first tour of duty at Seya in 1957. Now she was a teen-ager (19 I believe) and engaged to be married. She would have married Archie Garofalo, or so the story went in those days.

I know that the people who went to the GREEN HOUSE and people there were shook up after the fire. I never discussed it with the Mama-san.

What started the fire? Oh there was a LOT OF SPECULATION about that among the troops. The general opinion was that because of a burn detail that night the old wood in the building which housed the “new” and “larger” incinerator, broke out in flames. This incinerator was right below the area where the linguists were working topside.

I believe the official word on how the fire started was an “electrical short in the old building.” Many of us were a bit skeptical about that as one of our friends had told us about being in the parking lot when one of the investigators, from Washington, D.C., picked up two pieces of fused together metal in the parking lot and said loud enough for people near him to hear, “Well, that’s the way it started, electrical short.” He considered the evidence right in his hand. No, we never believed it started by electrical short. No, we blamed the incinerator.

Featured image: CTR1 George H. Morton standing next to radio club sign. Photo courtesy George Morton

Source: US NCVA Special Publication, Kamiseya 40th Anniversary Fire Memorial