Cleatus Lebow was born in 1924 in Happy, Texas. He grew up as one of 11 children during the Great Depression, but, as a kid, didn't realize that times were tough. His father, a section foreman for the railroad, was able to keep his job. During high school and after graduation, Lebow worked in a grocery store. He liked to box, and was doing well in "Golden Gloves." When he was called to the armed forces induction center, he asked for one of the seven available Navy slots because he thought that branch would be better than the "walking Army." He went from Lubbock, Texas to San Diego, California for boot camp, and did some boxing there. After basic training, he was in general detail for about six months, simultaneously attending rangefinder school, where he learned to operate stereoscopic and coincidence rangefinders. Once he boarded the USS Indianapolis (CA-35), the rangefinders gave Lebow a ringside seat for the rest of the war. He was ordered to report to Pearl Harbor [Annotator's Note: Pearl Harbor, Hawaii] and left the San Diego on a minesweeper, but a storm rerouted the ship to San Francisco, California. Lebow spent the next 30 days on shore patrol. His one memorable event during that time was to take a sailor who had jumped ship back to San Diego, and Lebow handcuffed himself to the much larger man and had to guard him until they reached their destination. When he finally left San Francisco on an LST [Annotator's Note: Landing Ship, Tank], it took ten days to reach Pearl Harbor. When he reached Pearl Harbor, Lebow was on general detail with nothing to do but wander around the island for two days. On the third day, he was "three holds deep" on the USS Oklahoma (BB-37), which had just been raised, "scooping up what was left of anybody or anything," and sending the matter up by the bucketful. Lebow said it was the "creepiest" thing he ever did. But just after noon on that day, he was called out to board the USS Indianapolis (CA-35), and sailed to the South Pacific.

The first island the USS Indianapolis (CA-35) approached was Tarawa [Annotator's Note: Tarawa, Gilbert Islands], and Cleatus Lebow said the invasion troops had not yet gained "footage" at that time. So, for about a week, the Indianapolis used its eight inch guns, and airplanes from aircraft carriers dropped bombs on the concrete emplacements of the Japanese forces. Once the island was secured, his ship supported another seven major campaigns, including Kwajalein [Annotator's Note: Kwajalein Atoll, Marshall Islands], Eniwetok [Annotator's Note: Eniwetok Atoll, Marshall Islands], Guam [Annotator's Note: Guam, Mariana Islands], Saipan [Annotator's Note: Saipan, Mariana Islands], Tinian [Annotator's Note: Tinian, Mariana Islands], Iwo Jima [Annotator's Note: Iwo Jima, Japan], and Okinawa [Annotator's Note: Okinawa, Japan]. Lebow's job was "sitting on that rangefinder, watching the war play out." His second duty was the operation of a quad 40mm antiaircraft gun [Annotator's Note: 40mm Bofors antiaircraft automatic cannon]. Lebow thought that was "great sport," and on 19 June 1944, he was credited with shooting down one and a half Zeros [Annotator's Note: Japanese Mitsubishi A6M fighter aircraft, referred to as the Zeke or Zero], for which he earned little Japanese flags that were painted on the side of the gun shields. On that day, the Indianapolis caught up with the 5th Fleet, and during what was called the "turkey shoot" [Annotator's Note: Battle of the Philippine Sea, also known as the Great Marianas Turkey Shoot], they shot down 402 enemy aircraft. Among the eight amphibious operations in which he participated, Iwo Jima, in the first part of February 1945, stands out. The Indianapolis was about 30 miles off the shores of Japan, when an aircraft carrier in their group was hit by a bomb and a Kamikaze, and had to be towed away from the scene. Lebow's ship defended the airspace for four days. He observed that the Marines "went through Hell" getting onto that island; the beach was ash, making it extremely difficult to get the tanks and troops up. On the third day, Lebow witnessed the Marines raise the American flag on Mount Suribachi. After Iwo Jima was secure, the Indianapolis went back to Okinawa and started bombarding the island again, preparatory to the landing planned for 1 April. But on 31 March, a suicide plane hit the ship, killing nine and seriously injuring 21 men. Lebow had pulled the night watch, and was in his bunk when the attack happened, with one wall between him and the area the bomb went through. The enemy plane hit "right on the edge of the ship," Lebow said, its wing tip clipped off into a 20mm [Annotator's Note: Oerlikon 20mm antiaircraft automatic cannon] gun tub, breaking the leg of the gunner at that station. The ship went into Kerama Retto harbor, where underwater divers patched the hole in its bottom sufficiently enough for it to return to the United States for an overhaul.

Back in the United States, the USS Indianapolis (CA-35) went into dry dock, and Lebow went to Texas on leave [Annotator's Note: an authorized absence for a short period of time]. During a family gathering, Lebow told his mother he was dreading his return to the Pacific, and she told him to rely on his faith. He returned to the ship, and on 16 July 1945, the Indianapolis left for Tinian [Annotator's Note: Tinian, Mariana Islands] with valuable cargo in a box about six feet square and 12 feet long, an atomic bomb. They stopped at Pearl Harbor [Annotator's Note: Pearl Harbor, Hawaii] to drop off passengers, and set a fleet speed record going to Tinian, arriving on 29 July. They unloaded the bomb on Tinian, and the next day sailed to Guam [Annotator's Note: Guam, Mariana Islands] where the captain [Annotator's Note: then US Navy Captain, later Rear Admiral, Charles Butler McVay, III] asked for an escort vessel. The request was denied, because the area had supposedly been cleared of submarine activity, but on 30 July, two enemy torpedoes hit the Indianapolis. Once again, an attack found Lebow in his bunk. He jumped out of bed, dressed, and went up one deck to find seamen bloody and burned. He passed out life jackets to guys on watch, and helped some sailors trying to push a whaleboat off the deck. The boat was rolling to the starboard side, and when it shifted some more, Lebow and several others went up a deck, over the gun shield, and down the side of the ship to the water. No one said they heard an order to abandon ship, but the propellers were sticking up in the air, and men were panicking and jumping off everywhere. Lebow said it was one of the worst sights he saw in the war. Lebow pushed off into the water, "scared half to death," and started swimming toward the sound of voices he recognized. He remembered his mother's advice to have faith, and after a short prayer, a feeling that everything was going to be ok came over him. He reached four life rafts that had been tied together and filled with wounded, and held on to the side. The next morning, a cork floater net from the ship came within reach; the men stretched it out, and about 80 guys climbed on. They counted off, and there were 139 sailors in the bunch.

Sharks began circling the group of survivors, and Cleatus Lebow said the predators were attacking men who broke away from the pack. After about the three days of thirst and hunger, some men were hallucinating, and started swimming toward an imaginary island. The remaining men talked about home and tried to keep from looking into the water. Lebow said he didn't think rescue would take so long, and "cussed" a number of "blind, dumb aviators" in planes flying so high up it was almost impossible for them to see survivors in the vast ocean. On the morning of the fifth day, a patrol plane pilot spotted them, and, eventually a PBY [Annotator's Note: Consolidated PBY Catalina flying boat] picked up 56 of the men. During that night, Lebow was hallucinating a little, and tried to swim away, but was fetched back by one of his buddies. The next thing he remembered was laying in the bottom of an inflatable life raft, then being picked up by a life boat, and trying to mount a rope ladder to board a ship. But he passed out again, and woke up on a liter on the deck. He was given liquids, and struggled when medics tried to give him intravenous glucose, but finally gave in. Sometime later, he woke for a short time when two sailors cleaned the oil off his body in a shower, but he was unconscious for several days afterward, until he woke up in a Navy hospital intensive care room. When he was moved to the ward with his buddies, he was given shots Lebow believed to be experimental penicillin injections.

Hunger and thirst tormented Cleatus Lebow and his fellow shipmates from the USS Indianapolis (CA-35) who were stranded at sea. It was reported that Captain McVay [Annotator's Note: then US Navy Captain, later Rear Admiral Charles Butler McVay, III] and three other men were on a raft that had some emergency food packets on board, but Lebow pointed out that if it actually happened, it was not a privilege the officer had, but a "coincidence," and McVay and his raft-mates had no idea of who else was "out there" because the survivors were so widely dispersed. In Lebow's group, the men counted off to 139 on the morning after the disaster; the rescue ship picked up about 60 remainders. Shark attacks were an ever-present dander. At one point, Lebow was dangling his foot in the water, and had to withdraw it quickly when a shark came in striking range. Slowly but surely, some of the original count, especially those that were burned and badly hurt, died, and had to be "let go" over the side of the raft. One of the able men kept their dog tags and personal effects to hand over to officials on the rescue ship. Lebow reiterated that his faith and his mother's reassurance kept him going. When the ship was hit, it was midnight on an overcast night. The captain of the enemy submarine [Annotator's Note: Imperial Japanese Navy Commander Mochitsura Hashimoto] that hit the Indianapolis appeared at the court-martial of Captain McVay and said they spied the ship as it went through a sliver of moonlight, then dove, set up their pattern, and fired their torpedoes. Had it been daylight, the ship would have been zig-zagging [Annotator's Note: a naval anti-submarine maneuver]; in the dark it was pointless. But, Lebow stated, "They still got him for that" [Annotator's Note: Captain McVay was court martialled asa result of the loss of the USS Indianapolis (CA-35)].

Cleatus Lebow was kept in the hospital ward for four weeks, then flew from Samar Island [Annotator's Note: Samar Island, Philippines] in an old transport plane to a submarine rest camp on Guam [Annotator's Note: Guam, Mariana Islands]. He was well fed, and stayed there for a month before returning to San Diego, California on the USS Hollandia (CVE-97). He had a 30 day leave [Annotator's Note: an authorized absence for a short period of time], then returned to Los Angeles [Annotator's Note: Los Angeles, California] for his discharge on 11 November 1945. Lebow was back home in Texas he when read about the court martial of Admiral Charles McVay in the newspaper. He was shocked; he thought it was unfair; and he was very angry. It was rumored that Admiral King [Annotator's Note: US Navy Admiral Ernest Joseph King; Commander in Chief, United States Fleet and Chief of Naval Operations] insisted upon the court martial in retribution for an old family feud; regardless of the reasons, Lebow feels it was stupid and uncalled for, and he does not like Admiral King. He was further aggravated when, four months after his discharge, he got a bill for clothes he picked up on the dock in Pearl Harbor on his way home. He wrote a nasty letter saying what had happened to him, and that he left the submarine rest camp with nothing but the clothes they gave him in the hospital; if they wanted money or the clothes back, they had better send the Marines to get it. In a return post from the vice-admiral, he was advised that the bill was "forgiven and paid."

Cleatus Lebow believes that, although the contents of the crate they carried to was top secret, speculation among the crew as to its contents was rife [Annotator's Note: Lebow is referring to the crate containing the atomic bomb components carried on the deck of the USS Indianapolis (CA-35)]. Some said it was whiskey, some thought it was a Cadillac for MacArthur [Annotator's Note: General of the Army Douglas MacArthur, Supreme Commander, Southwest Pacific Area], and others said it was toilet paper. Lebow learned the answer when he was in the hospital in Guam [Annotator's Note: Guam, Mariana Islands]; the atomic bomb was dropped on 6 August [Annotator's Note: 6 August 1945]. He thought it was awful but he knew that the fire bombings over Japan were killing almost as many people. Still, he was glad, because it meant a sooner end to the war. Asked if the crew had any subsequent contact with McVay [Annotator's Note: then US Navy Captain, later Rear Admiral Charles Butler McVay, III], Lebow said he attended the first reunion of the Indianapolis in 1960, and he committed suicide before the next five-year interval had passed. Lebow said McVay was well liked, and as Lebow remembered the 1960 occasion, the court martial was not mentioned. After he was discharged, Lebow returned to Abernathy, Texas, and after several odd jobs, he went to work for the telephone company, where his military experience was helpful. He worked in various locations in that field for 35 years. After he retired, he married a Texas lady, and moved back home to care for his ailing mother.

Asked if the war changed him in any way, Cleatus Lebow said it helped him have a little more faith, and mentioned that he wrote poems of gratitude and memoriam. As for what World War 2 did for America, Lebow said he would hate to think about how the country and the world would have fared if the victory over Japan and Germany had not been secured. He said he would be willing to fight for the country again, if the need arose. He believes The National WWII Museum will be good for coming generations, so that they will know the story. Reflecting on the message his family received when the USS Indianapolis (CA-35) was torpedoed, the telegram the Navy sent them said the ship was sunk with 100 percent casualties. His family thought casualties meant "dead," and it wasn't until they received a second telegram, saying that Lebow had been injured, that they knew he was still alive, although they did not know where he was. From that time on, his father resumed going to church on Sundays. When his mail caught up with him on Guam [Annotator's Note: Guam, Mariana Islands], a letter from his mother said she thought she heard him call for her, at the very time the Indianapolis was struck and sinking. Lebow was able to make contact with his family, by letter, from Guam; but he didn't speak with them until he got home. Lebow has kept a record of his Navy career and all that has subsequently happened in connection with his service on the fateful ship.