Identified as RPE OCR-DA-402-P
NOTE: This is as scanned from a typed document. There are probably some typos still in this version!

When I graduated from Flying School at Valdosta, Shaw Field I was ordered to MacDill Field to the 21st Bomb Group which was training B-26 groups to be sent over seas to the European Theatre of operation. There were several of us going there cause the T 9's that we flew at Shaw had some of the same characteristics at the B-26 particularly when the power was pulled off. Without power the wing loading was high and they both seemed to drop like a rock though the B-26 was much worse.

When we reported in they gave us indoctrination rides and I guess we were all horrified at the way the plane landed. The approach was at 16O MPH and the touchdown was at about 12O which was horrifying in those days. There were all kinds of horror stories but I don't believe they were as bad as the stories that developed while we were at MacDill. Those were the days of "one a day in Tampa Bay" and that was almost no exaggeration. During the first few months no one was able to bring the plane back on one engine. When ever there was a power loss the plane seemed to roll over on its back and go in and everyone was convinced that was the way it was. Don't loose power on one of your engines.

one day there was an order out that all flight crews were to be on the flight line, I think it was a Saturday morning for some sort of demonstration. They were also flying the B-26 at Barksdale, La. and one of their people brought a plane down, flew over the base for us and on the second pass one of the engines had a feathered prop, not turning at all. We were all amazed but there it was, flying on one engine. He flew the pattern and came in and landed, still on one engine. That was, up to that time, unheard of. It was just a short time till Crabtree lost one engine and brought the plane back and from then on things changed. We still lost planes but it didn't happen every time there was a problem. We had many single engine operations, in fact it was taught but not with the engine shut down but where the power was cut enough till the drag about equaled the thrust. Very difficult to hold it during the first few seconds if the shut down was close to instantaneous. Most of us had some experience in which we lost most of the power on one engine without a disaster.

Very shortly after we arrived at MacDill some of us were assigned to the 32O Bomb Group and we moved to Drane Field which was at Lakeland, to train as a unit. Shortly after getting there we had to take physicals and I got caught up on my eyes. I was grounded and sent back to MacDill and assigned to HQ of the 21st Group. They really didn't know what to do with me, a pilot who was grounded indefinitely. They put me in Group Operations and the flight surgeon ordered a set of prisms for me to use to strengthen the muscles that move the eyeball from side to side. I had a desk in operations and a sign on the wall opposite the desk with an arrow on it and several times a day I was to look at the arrow, put the prisms up in front of one eye and bring the images back together. This worked well and just before the end of the three months, the longest you could go back to collect flying pay, I took another eye exam and passed it. By that time I was an old man in operations, since they were continually moving people in and out of the organization, forming new groups. The people who were assigned as operations officers were usually Majors, some Captains and some Lt Cols so they were the ones I was working with and since I was a checked out B-26 pilot, all they had on me was rank. There were periods when I really ran the shop even though I was a 2nd Lt. The result was that I stayed at MacDill till the 21st BG was disbanded and the 397th took their personnel and got squared up for overseas duty. By this time I was about the oldest 1st Lt in the Army Air Corps, I had not been in a spot where I could get promoted and still had a long time to go. one of the things I got out of the grounding and return to MacDill was the three months flying pay that I got all at once. It came about the first of December so I took the money and bought a set of sterling silver dinner service and gave it to Martha for Christmas. She was surprised to get the silver but even more surprised to know that it was all paid for.

The 397th moved from MacDill and the B-29s came it. We moved to Avon Park for a while and then to Savannah where we got our aircraft and continued to work till we went overseas. I remember well having to calibrate our airspeed indicators and we did it following the straight line of the railroad and US17 north of the river at Savannah. There was a place there where the track and highway went really straight north. We had to go both ways for about lO miles at speeds of 14O, 15O, 16O, 17O, 18O and 19O. This was fun cause we had to do it at treetop level. The bombardier sat in the nose with a stop watch and timed between two intersections. one of the two times I ever really flew the aircraft at less the lOOOft except on landing or take off. Never felt that I really wanted to take the chances that were involved.

While there we had to live in a hotel right downtown and that was very unsatisfactory with a small baby. I guess Bill was about 6-7 months old when we went there. We got an apartment, one bedroom, living room and Kitchen in a housing project north of Savannah, at Fort Wentworth. The kitchen had a two plate wood fired cook stove. Martha had seen one in Connecticut at Thompson's but it was a new thing for her to try to cook on one. We did have a small hot plate which we had to heat Bill's bottle on but the only heat was the cook stove. Pretty primitive. That winter we made a trip to Connecticut and when we came back I brought some of oliver's wood with us cause it was hard for us to get wood. Mary and Nubbins Fortner lived just across from us in the project and we got pretty well acquainted with them. The girls were together in the daytime while we were at the base and Nubbins and I rode back and forth across Savannah to the base. We got a burlap bag and he and I would go to the coal pile and while I stood with my hands on my hips he would shovel the coal into the bag. It looked real legitimate I thought since he was an enlisted man. That was where Martha got into baked taters. There was a cracker woman next door and she would invite Martha over, not for coffee but a tater. She kept them in the oven of her little cook stove all the time for snacks and Martha liked them.

At one point while we were getting all our stuff together for us to go overseas we were to have a show down inspection and all our clothing was to be checked. Martha had gotten them all clean, ironed and Piled seParatelY so we could check them against the check list. They were spread out all over the whole apartment. She asked me to poke up the fire so she could fix supper. When I looked in the stove I couldn't see any fire so I poured a little kerosene in to get it started but there wasn't enough fire for it to light. I lit a match and dropped it in and when I did it exploded with a Whoosh and blew black sticky soot all over the inside of the apartment. All my clothes had a layer of soot on them but it wasn't too bad. All I did was carry each pile outside and blow on it and the soot went away. I felt pretty stupid and lucky too.

When we completed our staging it was time to head out for Europe. I told Martha and Billy goodbye and we took off for West Palm Beach Feb. 25th, 1944. for the first stop. From there we took off for Borinquin Field which was on one of the islands down by Cuba. our squadron commander, Major Berkencamp, didn't make that stop with us so one of the other squadron commanders briefed us on the next leg of our flight. He told his people that any of them who had any money they could spare should put it in whiskey cause it was cheap on the island and was going to be expensive in England. The price, as I remember was about $3.5O a fifth. I was the only one in my plane who had and money and they all thought I was crazy because I didn't want to buy liquor. I felt that the only thing I would be able to do with it when I got to England was to sell it and if I did and charged more they would think that I was a profiteer. It really didn't set well with my conscience. We had plenty of room and weren't too heavily loaded and they kept after me till a bought several cases, I don't even remember how many. I knew that we were ok weight wise, not like some others I saw leave for overseas one time when I was up at Myrtle Beach, SC. They were flying the older planes with the shorter wings and were loaded to the gills when they took off. We watched and they would disappear like into the ocean where we couldn't see them for about a minute and then they would show up starting their climb. that was real hairy to watch.

We got off all right and when we landed at our new home, we were met by Lt Timberlake, who was part of the advance party. He came on and talked to us before anyone got off the plane and explained that he was the o club officer and that whiskey was hard to come by and when they did they were having to pay something like $28 or $3O a bottle on the black market. He said that they would like to buy any that we had that we didn't want to use ourselves. Since I didn't want any of it I let them have it all but 2 bottles which, I guess, I finally gave away to someone who thought they needed it. Maybe I traded it for cokes cause they were rationed. The first thing I did then from England was to send a government money order back to Martha for $18OO. I knew Martha would wonder about that when it was the first thing she heard from me after leaving.

We flew from Borinquin field to Atkinson Field which was in British Guiana I think. It was a field that had been cut right out of the raw forest. The hugh trees came right up to the sides of the plane when we landed. of course we didn't see anything there but the sleeping area and the briefing area since we stayed only overnight. our flight the next day was from Atkinson along the coast to the beginning of Brazil to Belem. It is about half way along the Brazilian coast, mostly east of Atkinson.Another night to rest. I remember the navigation briefing in Belem in which they said we didn't need the navigators cause all we had to do was keep the land mass or the right, the water on the left and we were going in the right direction. Wker" we had to make a hard right turn we were there cause Nata" is on the very tip of Brazil so if we went any farther we would be getting away from it. We spent a night there and the next day took off for the over water part of the trip. We were to land at Ascension Island and they told it was just a big rock in the middle of the Atlantic. They were right, and the runway was just blasted out of the rock and the ocean was at each end of it. It wasn't even flat, uphill one way and down the other. We had to depend on the navigator for that leg cause we were under radio silence to prevent the Germans from knowing when and how many there were coming over. He hit it just right and got in and back out without any trouble.

We flew form Ascension to Roberts Field which was in Liberia on the southern part of the African bulge. This was a place that had been under the control of the Firestone Rubber Co. From there we went up the African bulge to Rufisque which is near Dakar on the tip of the bulge. The next leg was one of the more memorable ones. When we were briefed they told us that we had to go through a mountain pass to get to Marrakech. The mountains were too high for us to get over the way we were loaded. The catch was that there was a dog leg in the pass and you could not see through it. The valley was too narrow to make a U turn so we had to be sure we weren't going up a blind draw. As we approached the range I asked the Navigator if he knew for sure where we were and I got an affirmative answer but with"I think" tacked on the end. I flew on and asked again how it looked and said that he was pretty sure we were ok but still not a good solid yes. I'm not sure how many times I asked him but I had no confidence in his answers. The ground was coming up and the valley was starting to get narrow enough that I was worried about the U turn. I finally called him and told him that we were going to do a 18O and let him look some more before went any farther. We came back and made another approach and shortly he said I know where we are and began to talk all the way into the pass. That time I felt quite comfortable but was tickled pink when I turned the dog leg and there was the ocean staring me in the face and Marrakech was right in front of us.

The only other thing I remember about Marrakech was the take off the next morning. We took off after about 1/2an hour or so after sun up and directly into the east. It was very difficult to see with it in my eyes but we got lined up to take off at 15 second intervals. I was on the left side of the runway and there was a little breeze from the right so no problem. The plane on my right started to roll and at my appointed time I also started to roll. There evidently was a good deal of sand on the runway which got caught up in the propwash from the plane in front of me. About the time I was beginning to roll, the sand, the dew on the windshield and the sun blinded me completely and all I could see was the edge of the runway out my side window. There was only one thing to do and that was to roll cause I was being followed and they weren't going to be able to see me either. It was really no problem cause all I had to do was keep it straight and fly it off when it got the speed up. I do remember having my stomach up in my mouth during the roll however.

From Marrakech we flew to St. Mawgan which is on the south west of th" UK for a night and then on to our new home at Gosport which was near Rivenhall. This was the home of the 397th for several months. Since I wac promoted to 1st Lt in Dec 1942, when I went overseas, I was about the oldest 1st Lt in the Air Corps. The 397th took all the upper level people out of the 21st BG so it was loaded with rank. I sat in the 21st Gp Ops and watched the promotions to Capt pass me by, but as I said before it was worth it for the experience. When we got to England I was made Asst Sq ops officer and that was a slot that called for 1st Lt. The Sq ops officer was a Capt and all the flight leaders were, and had, for some time been Capts.

By the time of the invasion in June '44 I was flying my share of missions and because I was the Asst Sq ops Officer I had a good bit to do with who flew which missions. I notice that I signed both Combat crew loading lists for the missions on D day. There were very few of the crew members who flew them both. The first operation that day involved 53 aircraft. Take off was at 04:O7 and we bombed, dropping about lOO tons of bombs, at O6:2O which was just before the first wave of landings made the beach. our targets were in close support of the landing operation. The second mission that day took off at 16:51 With various gun emplacement as the targets. There were 38 aircraft that time dropping about 6O tons of bombs at 18:15. Its nice to remember that I got in on both missions. I have some pictures of the ocean that morning and it was really crowded with thousands of boats. Quite a sight. Since we were in England and they were operating on Double British Summer Time We could start at four in the morning anland at 11:30 at night and never log night time. It was difficult to get any nighttime with the targets we were flying against anyway. ours was almost all daytime, pin-point bombing. If the weather got bad enough we sometimes bombed blind, that is, on some sort of radio coordinates.

About the first of July word came to the groups that the 98th Bomb Wing Headquarters was in need of an additional controller and the Group Commanders were requested to recommend someone for the position. Col Coiner called me in and asked if I would be interested. It called for a Captain and he felt that it was the only way I would ever get promoted, specially since our attrition rate was so low. I didn't want to sit there just waiting for some one to get killed so I went to the 98th Bomb Wing. There were four Groups in the 98th wing and after I got there I found that the 394th Group Commander, Col Hall, also recommended me. He had worked in Group operations with me back at MacDill before, and while, the 394th was being formed. I thought that was pretty nice but then maybe he didn't have any one in his group he wanted to get rid of. oh well.

It was an interesting job most of the time. The wing received the Field orders from Bomber Command and our job was to break them down to show what each of the Groups was to do and the Group in turn would break them down for each of their squadrons. These came at any time, many and porbably most at night, so someone had to be on duty 24 hrs a day to handle them. We had good, or maybe I could call them fancy, quarters all exceptwhen we first arrived in France after the invasion. Those were tents but it didn't last very long, not with a General in command. Just before the invasion we were stationed in a big Country Estate almost on the south coast near Bournmouth. It was a beautiful spot and the owners who were sharing with us had two or three saddle horses yet and we even got to ride them some if we wanted. one of the nicest was the Chateau de Marchis, which was a hunting lodge and preserve of several hundred acres. This the one we finally made it back so I could show Martha. I had to write the Prince of Monaco to get permission to get in. We met the caretaker in Marchis and he and his pretty wife took us into the Chateau and also on a tour of the grounds. I think all the people in the town are involved in keeping the property. We did that the time we were there with Bob & Pat Dick so they got to see it too.

one of the good things about the Wing was that they had several small aircraft and I was checked out in them all so we could make administrative flights. When we were to leave and go to France the planes had to be flown over and I guess I must have been the low man cause I was assigned the L-4 which is about the smallest Taylor Cub there is. It doesn't come close to having any flight instruments so the weather had to be clear to make the channel crossing. The weather was bad and although all the others got off, I couldn't get cleared. As I remember I had to wait 4 or 5 days before I could invade the continent. I sat in that big country house by myself, no bed, slept on the floor in front of the fireplace and had to walk about two miles to get to an active base where I could get something to eat. I think that was almost the only time I had t go more than one day without a bath. I remember it was night by the time I Took off and caught up with a place to sleep and my feet were most stinking. I could hardly stand me till I got them down in the sleeping bag. I don't remember where I got it but I had a rubber air mattress that I hung onto all the time and it was great for sleeping even when not on a canvas cot.

When we moved to France George Weaver was the Mess officer for the officers Mess. He was sick during the move and the General put me in charge of moving the kitchen. We had C-47's or something like that that was to fly everything across the channel but we had to load everything on them ourselves. In the process I looked at a couple of GI (garbage) cans that were full of liquid that was obviously spoiled. It appeared that they were being moved and that made no sense to me, not having been much involved with the kitchen. I started to have someone dump the stuff and move the cans empty but when Frenchy the cook for the officers mess heard me he had a fit. He minced no words in letting me know that they were very valuable cause peaches and apricots were not easy to come by and he would have died if I'd had his"almost" brandy thrown out.

At that particular place in England we had a toaster in the officers Mess like in a restaurant where you put the toast in and it goes around the back side and comes out nicely done. That was one thing that the General particularly liked so we had it every morning. When we got to France one of the first mornings the General called Frenchy and asked why we didn't have any toast. Frenchy explained that the toaster was not ours and now we didn't have a toaster. The general reminded him that we had an oven and that it was possible to make toast in the oven. The next morning the general had his toast but it was dried out completely like zwieback. The general called Frenchy again but this time congratulated him on the toast and said he loved it and he wanted it just that was every morning. So from then on we had crunchy toast every morning. Never knew if Frenchy dried it out on purpose or not but we had it and enjoyed it.

I got my promotion very shortly after transferring to the wing but after a year there I was aging, getting way behind every one else. I was no longer flying very much and saw no hope of ever reaching the point I would be rotated home like every one else I went over with. I WANTED To Go HOME. Nothing else was mattering to me. In late Feb of '45 George Hughes, another one of the higher ups whose acquaintance I made back at MacDill called me from the 397th Group. He had been the Asst Group ops Officer when I left the group. The Gp ops officer had gone home and George was put in his job and had to have an assistant. Again I was remembered. He asked if I was interested in coming back and I said yes, if I could fly one out of four missions. That was agreeable and I went back and it was the result of that move that I was promoted again. George and I were on the same promotion orders, he to Lt Col and I to Major in May of that year.

I was lucky on that score but the war was about over and since it did stop shortly I never did get my missions in. It really didn't make any difference cause when VE day came I was about the top of the list to come home if I wanted. George left shortly before I did and I got appointed Group Operations officer but at that point it didn't mean much to me caus, I was thinking about getting out and going to Vet School anyway. When I got to be Gp op officer I had Alvin Lowe as my Assistant and sorry to say I've lost track of him, never shown up on the roster of the 397th post war.

I got my orders and returned to the States via Victory Ship, sicker than a dog for two or three days but made it to Boston, train to Jacksonville, to report to Camp Blanding for further assignment. Met Martha at one of the hotels in downtown Jacksonville and then home for 3O days before going to Greensboro, NC for further assignment. By this time VJ had occurred and they were taking requests for separation. We went to Ft MacArthur, at Long Beach, CA, to be processed for separation.