(above) Grandson to Craig McConnell Waldner standing in front of room 4146 which was occupied by Craig Waldner when he was a 90 day wonder at the beginning of WWII. 

​(above) Culpepper Military Cemetery

Memorial for Lt. Craig McConnell Waldner, USN

Written by Heidi Waldner Nufer

My father, Craig McConnell Waldner, was in his senior year studying Mechanical Engineering at Bucknell University when Pearl Harbor was attacked. Without hesitation, he enlisted in the United States Navy. He was instructed to complete his final exams and await further orders. Shortly thereafter, he was sent to the U.S. Naval Academy as a “Ninety Day Wonder” to complete officer training, living in Bancroft Hall, Room 4146, from January 8 to April 15, 1942.

My sister still has one of his books from that time, with the room number and dates written inside the cover in his handwriting. Years later, with some persistent lobbying, I was able to convince my own midshipman to have his photo taken in front of my father’s old room—an unexpected and meaningful connection across generations.

My parents were married in September 1943 at Columbia University in New York City. Because of wartime demands, they obtained a special dispensation to bypass the normal waiting period. They were married in uniform by the campus chaplain, witnessed only by my mother’s two roommates and the chaplain’s wife. After the ceremony, my father helped the three young women move into a new apartment. Then, my parents celebrated by going to see For Whom the Bell Tolls. The next morning, my father departed for a year and a half of service in the South Pacific aboard the USS Pringle—the only ship on which he served.

Although I do not know the name of his bunkmate, I do know with certainty that the man did not survive the sinking of the Pringle. My father, however, was home on leave in San Francisco at the time of the ship’s loss.

During that leave, while my father was visiting my mother—Anne Randle Waldner, a Navy LTJG and member of the second class of WAVES—they received a knock at the door. A chaplain and two MPs informed her that the Pringle had been sunk and that Lt. Craig Waldner was not listed among the survivors. My mother simply pointed to the couch and said, “Well, he’s here.”

My mother had her own remarkable Navy story. She served as a commissioned officer and was aboard the maiden voyage of the USS Kidd, an unusual honor for a woman at the time, when women were still regarded as bad luck on ships. She had signed up for the voyage using only her initials—“LTJG A. Randle”—and when she arrived, there was considerable objection. The commanding officer overruled everyone, stating, “She’s in the Navy. I say she goes.” A front‑page newspaper story later ran with the headline “The WAVE Delivers the Ship.”

Years later, when the USS Kidd became a museum ship permanently docked in Baton Rouge, my mother donated her original newspaper from that maiden voyage. At the same time, my father contributed several small artifacts from the Pringle. When my husband and I toured the Kidd in the mid‑1990s, the museum director showed us an area with footlockers displayed beneath a plexiglass floor—each dedicated to a World War II ship. The only items they had for the USS Pringle were those donated by my father: a small leather change pouch marked “USS Pringle,” a pocket notebook, and a pen or pencil bearing the ship’s name.

My father never returned to college to complete his engineering degree. His health began to decline around 1985, and he passed away in 1995. My mother died in 2008. Both are buried together at Culpeper National Cemetery in Culpeper, Virginia.

I am proud to share their story.

—Heidi Waldner Nufer

(above) Anne Waldner