TRANSCRIPT OF THE PERSONAL ACCOUNT OF BOB LANDON AKA: ROBERT J. LEVENDUSKY 2ND BOMBARDMENT SQUADRON (M) 22ND BOMBARDMENT GROUP (M) AS CONTAINED IN AN UNDATED LETTER TO WALTER GAYLOR, PRESIDENT 22ND BOMB GROUP ASSOCIATION ACCOUNT COVERS THE PERIOD FROM DECEMBER 7, 1941 TO CIRCA JANUARY 25, 1942 See Diary of Levendusky, Robert J. AKA Bob Landon Manuscript [unpublished] / Personal Account of Bob Landon, AKA Robert J. Levendusky / 22BG / 2BS / B-26 Marauder B-26 "Daisy Mae" / also PBY, P-40 / December 7, 1941 - circa January 25, 1942 geographical locations: Bolling Field, Langley Field, Barksdale Field, Kelly Field, Muroc Dry Lake, Naval Air Station @ San Diego, March Field / 22BG deployment from Langley Field / submarine patrol / Bob HieIman death by sentry / Jap attack from Mexico / B-26 maintenance / life in San Francisco / 8.511 X 11" / 27 p. / transcript 15 p. / original hand-written data in file: Manuscript [letter] - Bob Landon (Levendusky) - loose pages-numbered / copy - plastic spine bound - reproduction of original at 95% / typescript. [From the collection of the 22nd Bombardment Squadron Association, Walter Gaylor, President.] Transcript and copy of original file folder provided for: Marauder Archive; San Diego Aerospace Museum (Alternate Marauder Archive); Richard P. EIlinger (Editor of THE MARAUDER THUNDER & MHS Video); John 0. Moench (MHS Historian). Original documentation is fragile and should be sparingly used; original file to Marauder Archive. TRANSCRIPT, PRINTING AND BINDING BY MAJ. GEN. JOHN 0. MOENCH, USAF (RET) HISTORIAN, B-26 MARAUDER HISTORICAL SOCIETY 1

This transcript was made from a copy of the copy on file. This transcript should be read in conjunction with the: Manuscript [diary] / Diary of Levendusky, Robert J AFA Bob Landon. The brother of Robert I Levendusky was Edward F. Levendusky (Eddie). The crew names related in this transcript are (not listed in the key word coverage): Willis C. Bumgarner, pilot. Burnside, co-pilot. Skinner, bombardier. Marshall, navigator. Benoff, radio operator. Donald W. Marker, gunner. To ascertain the full of names not so covered, reference should be made to the upgraded "roster" record of Nevin Price. 2

To: Walt Gaylor [Walter Gaylor, President, 22nd Bombardment Group Association) From: Bob Landon (Levendusky) It all started on December seventh, nineteen hundred and forty-one. I was near my ship on the line at Langley Field waiting to take off for Bolling Field, Washington, D.C. We were to take the group commander there on official business. About three o'clock, the sentry on duty, Steve Kubiaska, came up to me and said, "Guess what?" "What," I said, not having the slightest idea what he was about to tell me. "The Japs have bombed Pearl Harbor," Steve replied with a funny smile. "Get away, who are you trying to kid," for I thought he was joking. With his arm braced against the fuselage, he murmured that if I didn't believe him, all I needed to do was to go into operations and listen to the radio. At that, I took his word for it and dropped the subject, but back in my mind I thought surely it couldn't be true. Having my camera with me, I asked Steve to snap a couple pictures of me. As he didn't have much else to do, he waited until I put on my flying clothes and parachute. In that attire, I had him snap me. Also took shots of him and "Daisy Mae," the title that we gave to our B-26. I then went to chow and there we were instructed to go back to the hangar. Arriving there much commotion was in progress and orders were flying everywhere. Mechanics were pulling inspections and, final check-ups, radio men were busy with their various equipment and the armorers were cleaning and oiling machine-guns. I busied myself by installing armor plating around the pilot and co-pilot seats. It was hard work because the plating was heavy and you had only a small place in which to work. While the assistant crew-chief and I were doing that, other men were installing the guns and ammunition. Another crew was putting in the bombay tank. About mid-night someone came with instructions for all combat members to go back to the barracks and pack their clothes. I was trying to install a bushing at that time, so didn't leave immediately. Butch had bet me a ham sandwich that I couldn't put it in for he had worked at it at least a half hour. Being tired and rattled from working all day straight, it seemed hard for him. I won the ham sandwich by puffing it in place in about five minutes. After Butch and I had eaten, I left him to pack. The barracks was a mess. Clothes were laying everywhere. Anyone could buy a twenty-five dollar suit for five dollars. I had my brother Eddie's suitcase and put as many of his and my civilian clothes in it as it would hold. We were to take off early in the morning so I gave the suitcase to a friend to mail home for me. He was a member of the ground staff and wouldn't be leaving for three or four days. That completed, I decided to get a little sleep. Even with all the noise, I fell asleep for I was dead tired. At three o'clock, I was wakened and told to take my baggage to the ship. I only had a cross-country and one barracks bag but they were crammed full and heavy. 3

It was still dark and as I got to the hangar, I could faintly see "Daisy Mae" parked near the gas pit. She had been fully gassed including the bombay tank. I put my bags in the forward bombay along with the bags of the rest of our crew. However, after I had finished, I decided they might shift on take off or in rough air, so put some in the rear bombay. The turret & tail section was loaded down with thirty and fifty caliber ammunition. Dawn came at last and a steady flow of cars and people began coming. Mostly wives, families & relatives of the officers and enlisted men. Many spectators also came to see us off. All sixty of the group's bombers were parked on the ramp. About 6:30, good-byes were said. It was a sorrowful sight too. Wives were crying and holding on to their husbands and some had to forcibly back away. One bomber started its engines and then another and another until all were started. As we all waited for the lead ship to pull out, everyone sensed a new exciting thrill. The men of our crew were pilot, Lt. Bumgarner; co-pilot, Lt. Burnside; bombardier, Skinner; navigator, Marshall; engineer, myself; radio operator, Benoff, and gunner, Marker. We also took along our crew chief to help out in case we developed any trouble. His name being Ray. At last the lead ship began to taxi out to the runway with the others pulling out one by one. As we taxied past the hangar, I pushed my head and shoulders through the hatch and waved good- bye to the people. In return, they were waving handkerchiefs for all they were worth. Soon it was our turn to take off. I was standing between the pilot and copilot holding on to the armor plating.. With a deep roar as our engines were throttled to full r.p.m., we tore down the runway gaining speed. At 70 m.p.h. our nose-wheel raised and at 130 m.p.h. we lifted. The co-pilot retracted the wheels and flaps and soon we were in formation. It was decided to fly over the field as a final farewell and, as we did, I wondered how many of us would see the place again. Our squadron separated from the group and headed for Barksdale Field, La. We were leading "C" flight in a V formation. In front of us about fifty feet higher was "B" flight and in front of them "A" flight. It was a beautiful sight and I could see Eddie's ship flying right wing in "B" flight. He is a radio operator and one of the best in the squadron. Cruising at 200 m.p.h., we soon sighted the Blue Ridge Mountains of the Allegheny chain. It was the first time I had ever seen them. New scenery, cities and rivers always drew my attention and, when I didn't know where we were, I'd ask the navigator who showed me exactly our present position on his maps. Switching generators and transferring fuel kept me busy throughout. Six hours from take off we landed at Barksdale and in that time passed over N. Carolina, S. Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi and part of Louisiana. We were quite hungry, so Benoff went to the PX to get some sandwiches while Ray and I refueled the ship. In an hour's time, we were ready to take off again, our destination being Kelly Field, Texas. While we were getting into position, I checked the flaps, prop 4

switches, controls and instruments. Everything checked OX and down the runway we go with a roar. The flight was the same, namely formation flying all the way, both close and spread positions. The Mississippi River was the only interesting sight. About four o'clock, San Antonio came into view. We flew over it and there was Randolph Field. What a picturesque place that is. Much more wonderful than the pictures I have seen of it. Kelly Field was nearby, so we circled to make our approach. Lt. Bumgarner made a swell landing and after taxing to a stop the field maintenance crew took over. They knew we were tired and wouldn't let us do a thing. Up on the wing they went and started to gas us at the same time telling us to get something to eat. I'll never forget how nice they treated us. After chow, Ray and I went back to the ship for we had a fuel pressure gage out and the right engine mixture control was out of adjustment. We took "Daisy Mae" into the hangar and at 11:00 we had everything ship-shape again. Next morning we were awakened at dawn & ate breakfast. The water there was the best I have ever drank. I went down for doubles more than once. As we stood around the ship waiting to take off, a number of Kelly boys came over and told us in earnest how they wished they were in our place. They asked us questions about our individual duties and we answered them as best we could. I remember Marker asking Benoff if he saw San Antonio Rose last night. To this Benny answered something about him being a wise guy and we all laughed. However, it was all in fun for there isn't any better friendship than among the combat members of a bomber. Out came the pilots. Lt. Bumgarner asked me the condition of the ship. I said it's O.K. for everything checked out on the pre-flight. The preflight is an inspection done by the engineer or crew chief. It includes running up the engines to full r.p.m. and checking props, controls and instruments. The take off was a spectacular one. Going into the wind, we passed directly over the operations tower with only feet to spare. It was one of those take-offs that takes your breath away. In our cross-country hop, Tucson, Ariz. was our next stop. The land gradually raising and as a result we had to gain altitude. Even so, our bomber flew about two hundred feet above the mountainous range to take in the scenery. Mountain trails, roads, ravines and all types of trees and bushes flew beneath us. Burnside snapped a few pictures. I never got to see the results. No sooner did we land than it started to rain. We parked the ships and went to our barracks. For four days we left them only for chow, so hard did it rain. The altitude here is 2,660 ft. above sea-level. I seems funny to step into the ship to find your altimeter registering almost 3,000 ft. when you are still on the ground. Civilians working the PX knew we were disgusted because of the weather and they practically begged us not to go away from Tucson with the impression that the weather was always bad here. They told us that for three months they didn't have a drop of rain & just as we arrived it started. 5

In the morning of December 17th, the weather turned good. Ray was pulling the pre- flight and no matter what he did the right engine wouldn't start. Finally, he burned out the booster and she went dead. While I took out the damaged booster, Ray went after a new one. After installing it, she started fine but we were losing r.p.m. on the magnetos. We decided to chance the take-off anyway. Just as we expected, the whole runway was needed to get off and then we couldn't climb too rapidly. However, getting into formation, we were soon on our way to Muroc Dry Lake, a part of the Mojave Desert. There below us, after 2:45 flying time, was what appeared to be a vast slag field, level as a table top about twenty miles long and five miles wide. We circled for the approach and on landing just let the ship roll at 100 m.p.h. for the entire length. One by one we piled out of Daisy Mae. Looking around it truly seemed desolate and out of the way. Benny laughed and said to Marker, "Remember you asked me if I saw San Antonio Rose?" Marker replied, "Yes. Why?" "Well," said Benny, "now you can start looking up Sierra Sue." Everyone laughed as we walked to a G.I. Truck. We were taken across the entire width of the lake to some tents. Beside them was a pile of straw and, taking my mattress cover, I loaded it with the stuff. It made a good bed, although it was a little bumpy in places. By now it was very dark and a strict blackout was demanded. Marker and I headed for the latrine, just a broken down old shack with a dilapidated airplane beacon tower beside it. Gong inside, we looked all over for the light switch to no avail. "Maybe it's outside," Marker said and out he goes looking for it. All of a sudden, I notice the beacon light going around and a lot of commotion outside. Stepping out, I saw Marker struggling with the switch in an effort to shut off the light. At the same time, officers were yelling, "What the hell's wrong with that guy? Doesn't he know there's a blackout?" Finally, the light went out and the beacon stopped revolving and Marker came back all in a sweat. "How was I to know that old think still worked?" he said. "Anyway, there's no light switch for the latrine. I guess we'll have to wash by flashlight." Next day we changed mags for we found it caused our loss in r.p.m. The carburetor then went bad and as a result that was changed. It took five days to get the ship back into condition and during that time the ground staff had arrived and put up tents. We then moved to the other side of the lake and joined our squadron. The group soon put us to work doing patrol duty along the Calif. coast. We loaded 3-600 lb. bombs in the bombay and along with a full bombay tank it was quite a load. Our first mission was between Los Angeles and San Francisco. We flew for 5:20 without sighting an enemy submarine. They were sinking our boats right and left and it was up to us to stop them. 6

The next day, Dec. 21, 1 had a surprise visit. Two of my uncles from L.A. pulled in as Eddie was flying so I met than at the gate. I didn't see them for three years so we had a lot to talk about. They left with the promise of coming again next Sunday. At dawn the next morning we took off again. To get over the mountains, we had to climb to 14,000 ft. Once over them, the ground drops rapidly to the ocean. The mountains are beautiful with the snow-covered peaks. We have to go over the coast at a certain time or the Coast Guard units will open up on us and, when we have a little time, we circle in and out of the ridges. When our time is up and we head out to the coast a beautiful sight is offered us below. Orange groves in perfectly straight lines can be seen as far as we look. To me, California's beauty is from the mts. to the Pacific. East of the nits. there is nothing. Over the ocean we wear our "Mae West" life vests under our parachutes. flying over water always makes me more cautious for we are in a land plane and, if we should have to make a water landing, I hate to think what would happen. Right off San Pedro we spied a freighter listing heavily. Evidently it was carrying lumber for wood was floating all around it and it had a gaping hole in its side. We circled it for half an hour each time increasing our diameter in an effort to locate the sub that torpedoed the freighter. It must have immediately submerged for we couldn't find the slightest trace of it. In these operations, I ride in the tail in order to get a better view of the ocean. It is quite a sensation flying with your back to the direction we are moving and get bounced around a lot but one gets used to it in time. We came back to Muroc after 6:10 of patrol. Bumgarner wants to get a sub so bad he patrols the ocean thoroughly for some sign of one. After chow, we play cards or I go to Eddie's tent and hear Lyman play the guitar. Eddie, being on a different crew, is naturally in a different tent. Dec. 24, a day before Christmas. We were awakened at 4:00 to eat breakfast. It was a hasty one and I just made the truck going to the ships. We were traveling at 35 m.p.h. when I heard someone holler "Halt." The driver apparently didn't hear him for he kept going. Just then a shot was fired and I felt something whiz past my arm. Someone said, "Who did it get?" Bob Heilman, who was sitting across from me said, "I got it," and fell to the floor of the truck. The driver heard the shot and stopped as a fellow put a flashlight on Heilman and we all could see a hole in his flying jacket right over the heart. His eyes fell back and gurgling sounds could be heard in his throat. He had died instantly. Being on the end, I was the first one out, just as the sentry who had fired the shot ran up with the pistol still in his hand. I said to him, "Why didn't you fire the first shot over the truck? You just killed a man." He said, "I was only doing my duty. Just then our inspector who is a technical sergeant yelled out, "We'll see what kind of duty you were performing when you're up before a court martial." We took his name, rank and serial number. 7

Heilman was taken to the hospital and we walked to our ships. The guards had a fire going and I looked at the sleeve of my flying jacket and, sure enough, there was a hole through it. I took it off and the same thing appeared in the sweater. You can imagine how I felt as I hastily tore off my coveralls and under shirt and there on the upper part of my right arm was a little red welt where the bullet touched. I thought I was the luckiest person in the world though I had a sickening feeling in my stomach. The fellow that was sifting on the left side of Heilman suddenly felt weak in the knees and had to go back to his tent. Heilman was a turret gunner on one of our bombers and a swell fellow. The squadron lost a good man. At dawn we took off again for patrol duty. Leaving the coast we headed directly for Catalina Island. Bumgarner flew very low over it trying to locate a sub that might be hiding in one of the many alcoves. We had no luck so circled the beach where a lot of tourists abound. After 4:40 we gave up and came back. Tonight all combat members were on the alert. We had to sleep in our flying clothes and be ready for action. A strong rumor was around that the Japs had an airfield in Mexico and were coming to bomb us. However, nothing of the sort happened and the next morning found us in our bombers ready for take off. This was Xmas day. Flying over the ocean is very monotonous for no matter which way you look all you see is water. The weather is very bad. The visibility is almost zero and the ceiling in places is on the water. The rain gets more terrible as we go. Bumgarner, knowing he can't get away from the storms, begins climbing Daisy Mae in an effort to get above it. We go up to 16,000 feet. The weather is still bad and it is very cold. All of a sudden the ship began to fall in a steep dive. We fell 3 or 4,000 ft. before we pulled out and I knew what had occurred. Ice had formed on our wings and its weight plus a bomb load caused it to dive. Benoff got a report from San Diego Naval Air Station for us to land there immediately and not attempt to go over the nits. to Muroc. At San Diego the weather was a little better and we landed. We knew we wouldn't fly the rest of the day so we checked our bedding for the night. Benoff, Marker and I ate supper in the Navy's mess and as we were in army flying clothes all the gobs gave us the eyes. We ate royally and were treated swell. The evening was over and we decided to do the town. To get to the city from the airfield, you have to take a ferry. It was run by the navy so it didn't cost us a cent. To see lights again was a pleasant sight after being in total darkness every night. We stopped in a hamburger stand to get a bite and the waitress wanted to know where we were from. Having on our sheep-lined flying clothes, we said from Alaska. She took it all in as most girls do. Going up the main drag, I spied a dance hall. I was eager to dance for it was a long time that I hadn't. Marker took in a show as he didn't care for dancing. Benny and I went in and had a swell time. Most of the girls were dark, probably coming from Mexican stock. It is only 15 miles from San Diego to the Mexican border. Considering the other fellows back at the depot, we had a fine Xmas. 8

The next day proved to be just as bad. I went out to the line and ran up the ship. She checked O.K. An officer came just then and told me to take the ship to the far end of the field. They wanted to disperse them as far apart as possible. With Marker in the co-pilot seat and I in the pilot's, I ran it up again and let got of the brakes. It was the first time I had ever taxied it by myself. It came easy. I had Daisy Mae rolling across the field and in a short time had it parked. I would have given a lot to take it off. Lt. Bumgarner came over to the ship as Marker and I were about to leave. He said we could go into town again if one of us stayed to guard the plane. We said okay but Benoff, Marker and I all wanted to go to town together. Lt. Crosson's ship was also grounded and one of his crew had to stay also. Johnston, turret-gunner of Crosson's crew, volunteered to stand guard on both our ships until we came back from town. I said fine but I knew one of us should stay on my ship. Anyway, we borrowed some clothes from the boys around and took off to town. Going up the main street laughing and talking we ran right smack into Lt. Bumgarner and the rest of the officers. Of all the people to meet, it would have to be them. Lt. Bumgarner came to me and asked," Who is standing guard on the airplane?" I answered, "Johnston, sir," for I knew he saw Benny, Marker and myself "Johnston, who is Johnston, Levendusky?" said the Lt. "He is the turret-gunner on Lt. Crosson's ship and is pulling guard on both our ships until we come back." Lt. Bumgarner looked at me kind of funny, the started laughing. "O.K." he said. "Have a good time men," and walked away. I thought for sure I had myself in a mess of trouble but everything turned out fine and we sure did have a swell time. The next morning we got up at five, ate breakfast and were ready to take off at six. It was still pitch dark but we got into position and were given the O.K. from the tower. We shot down the field and Lt. Bumgarner began pulling her up. We didn't have enough flying speed and she settled down on the runway at the same time hitting a little rise in the concrete. The jar broke both our tack- generators from the engine with a loud crack. From then on we had no r.p.m. indication and flew by manifold pressure and sound. For three hours we patrolled the ocean but saw no trace of a sub. Lt. Bumgarner decided to go back to our base for further orders. On approaching Muroc we put our wheels down for a landing. Our nose wheel indicator didn't register the nose-wheel down and locked. I lifted the door to see if it was all the way down and as best I could see it was okay. I closed the door and told the pilot it looked all right to me. He said to hold tight, that he is going to land, to prepare to nose over. With our load of bombs we hit pretty hard and I think the jerk locked the nose wheel for when we settled on our nose she rolled as smooth as glass. Eddie and I got a 36 hour pass and hitch-hiked to Hollywood. We visited Joe and Jane and stayed over for the night. Had a swell time. Ted and Betty were also there to complete the fun. 9

Coming back to Muroc, my ship had orders to fly to Oakland, Calif, We took off immediately with dress clothes in case we had a chance to take in the town. We landed at Oakland municipal airport after 5:40. It was a pretty nice hop with low mt. ranges and big trees below us. On the field was a P-40 and four B-26s. Being a municipal airport, airline ships were always coming in and taking off. Our crew, along with Lt. Hitchcock's who also came with us, was gathered in the operations building. There, we were given instructions and the purpose of all this. The operations officer told us that PBY`s would do all the patrolling and when they spied a sub they would radio San Francisco & in turn they would call the airport & the location of the sub would be given to the navigator and we were to take off in five minutes. One of our ships had to be warmed up and ready while the other was to be on the alert. That afternoon, we were given a call & flew to the location given us but there was nothing in sight. Evidently, the sub had submerged. We came back with two hours flying time. Tonight being New Years Eve, we dressed up for town. Hitchcock's crew was to stay. Marker, Benny, Ray and I took a bus for San Francisco which is only across the bay. We bought a quart of Scotch and it was emptied in short order. Ray did it the most justice & the left us to go on his own. Going down the street, we ran across a fellow with a cigar that measured at least a foot and a half long. Benoff bargained for it and won. We lit it for him and continued on toward the city. As Benny is only a little over 5 ft. in height, he had all the people who saw him screaming with laughter. Seeing a place called the "Rancho Grande," we decided to get a few drinks. The place was of Mexican design and featured a Mexican band. We took a table & ordered up. I saw a very pretty girl and asked her for a dance. She consented and as I passed our table Benny yelled out, "What a hunk of meat." The girl pulled away from my arm and would have belted Benny square across the face if I hadn't stopped her in time. With a lot of fast talking, I convinced her that he was referring to some one else. We finished our dance & I came back to the table. I told Benny to watch his step from now on because these Mexicans are plenty tough. In reply he said, "Don't worry about me. I'm plenty tough myself, tonight." With that he went up to the band stand. Marker and I didn't know what he was after until he came back saying that he had talked the leader into letting Marker beat out a number on the drums. Marker was going to turn it down at first but was persuaded to go ahead. When he was given the okay he took his place behind the drums & the orchestra started a tango. We got the biggest kick watching him go to town. He had a smile from ear to ear and gave out all he had. The girl vocalist went to the mike and drew the crowds attention to the "soldier drummer" as she put it. After the number was over, everyone gave him a big hand. Benny and I applauded the loudest and longest. 10

After a couple more drinks we decided to leave. Outside the people were yelling & stumbling all over the place. I never saw anything like it. "Let's take in the biggest & best place in town," I suggested. "Okay, lead the way," shouted Benny. I saw a tall building and as we got near I could see it was a hotel. Out front they had a large sign advertising the "Sky Room." "That's our place," I said to the boys as we headed for the lobby. Once inside, we got into line and waited for the elevator. There were two girls in front of us obviously by themselves. I said to one of the girls, "Are you going to the Sky Room?" "Why, yes." "May we accompany you?" "Surely," she answered with a pretty smile. Just then the elevator came down and everyone began rushing in. As we were about to enter, the operator said we would have to wait for the next one. However, the girls said they would wait for us at the top. It wasn't long till we were again with the girls. I spied a nice table and we made way for it. Being only two girls and three of us, Marker was left out but not for long for he began making eyes at some cute girl and she winked back. Marker immediately got up and joined her leaving Benny & I with our girls. We ordered Tom Collins all around. To make the girls laugh, Benny started telling jokes. When he gets started everyone has more fun than a barrel of monkeys. The girls just split their sides laughing at him. Suddenly, the light went out and horns began blowing. It was 12:00 so we joined in singing the New Year in. Benny & I both kissed our girls Happy New Year. We were all in a joyous mood. No one thought of the war or what it would bring. We just kept drinking, singing & laughing to our hearts content. About 2:30 A.M. the party broke up. I hailed a cab and we kissed the girls good-bye. They lived way on the other side of town and as we had to get back to Oakland by 5:00 we couldn't go with them. I gave my girl one of my squadron pins to remember me by for I knew I would never see her again. New Year's Day I was up at seven and out to the ship. We expected a mission today so kept everything in readiness. However, to our disappointment, nothing happened. All day long was spent tuning up the engines by Ray and I. They needed it, for one engine had considerable drop of r.p.m. on one mag. The next day, we got word from the PBYs to take off immediately. They had sighted a sub some distance out to sea. Everyone was around but Benny, our radio operator. I remembered him saying something about going to the restaurant for a bite to eat, so I set out after him. Sure enough, there was Benny coming out the door still chewing. I yelled to him that we had a mission & get a move on. He followed me at a run to the runway. Bumgarner had the engines running and taxied down to us. We got aboard & started down the runway at full throttle. The right engine sounded like it was about to tear itself to pieces which made Bumgarner put on the brakes. Looking at the pedestal, I saw the three-way propeller switch in the manual I I

position instead of automatic. I knew that was our trouble & told the pilot about it. He put it in the proper position & asked me if the wind was very strong. "Hardly any wind at all, sir," I answered. Instead of taxing back in order not to take off into the wind again, Bumgarner just turned Daisy Mae around & we took off down wind. We got off okay but needed every inch to do it. In no time at all, we were on our way to the surfaced sub. The day was fairly clear so we flew around 5,000 ft. As we neared the location given us, Bumgarner advised us to keep a sharp look-out over the interphone. However, when over the supposed target, no sub was to be found. We circled the spot for a half hour before we gave up. All there was to be seen was greenish water. On the way back, we spied something that looked an awful lot like a sub. Coming down to 500 ft., Bumgarner made a run over the black shape which turned out to be a school of porpoises, much to our disappointment. After 3:30 flying, our wheels touched the runway. Ray took care of the ship as we went to chow. Everyone had to use mess kits, so in that respect Oakland wasn't any different from Muroc. I thought our flying was done for that day but not so. Around 2 o'clock, we got another call and took off immediately. Marker said, "I hope this isn't another bum steer," and we all agreed with him. Bumgarner yelled over the interphone. "Men, we're flying big game this time. No more subs; aircraft carrier for us." We all laughed for we knew he was kidding. Again we flew over the location given us by operations and again nothing was to be found. This thoroughly made everyone mad. The only thing that greeted us was endless miles of water. After circling for a while, we gave up and started for our home base. 3:20 flying time brought us over Oakland. Bumgarner notified us that he was going to buzz the field. From 6,000 ft. he nosed Daisy Mae down over the airfield. At 75 ft. we leveled off and the air speed indicator said 365 m.p.h. I was in the tail and as we flashed by I could see people staring up at us in wonder. We probably would have gone faster but Bumgarner's window flew open and scared the hell out of him. On landing, everyone rushed over to us for it was the fastest they had ever seen a bomber travel. To date, that has been the fastest I have traveled. It was a real thrill. The following. day, Hitchcock's ship had settled deep in the mud of the dispersal area. As we were the only other available bomber that put us again on the alert. The wheels were down very deep which made the propellers touch the ground. A diesel tractor was procured and, with much tugging, it was finally brought to the runway. Benny suddenly ran out of the alert tent and said that we have a sub on the line. Ray & I had the ship all ready to go & in five minutes time we were taking off. On our way, we passed over Alcatraz and from the tail I could see the prisoners 12

walking around the enclosed walls. I wondered how many of those fellows would like to be in my place. Bumgarner kept the ship flying low, hardly fifty feet off the water. At that altitude, one has an idea how fast he is traveling. At the target site, as usual, nothing was to be found. Another bum steer, as Marker put it. Coming back, we spied one of our destroyers & decided to have a little fun. Bumgarner circled the boat and got no identification signal from them. "Open the bomb-bay door," said the pilot to the bombardier. With the door open, we made a run over the destroyer. You never saw so much commotion. The blinker started flashing signals, flags began waving & the radio buzzing. We laughed and laughed because that boat crew was really scared. This must have been our day for a little further below us was a freighter lying to port with a big hole in the side. Lumber was the cargo for it was floating all around the boat. It would have been sunk by the sub we were looking for and that made us mad. We flew over the wreckage for a long time but there was no sign of a sub. In three hours we flew 600 miles when we sighted Oakland airport. That was all the flying we did for the day. The next three days were spent working on the engines. Hitchcock did all the flying for we had magneto trouble. That corrected, a complete change of spark plugs was needed. With the ship in perfect shape, we waited for our next mission. Everyone was flat broke, so it was not one was going to town. The news of a plane crash with Carol Lombard aboard was heard. One of the pilots at the field knew his wife was on that ship coming out to see him. He broke down completely on learning that his wife was killed and was no good for anything. Poor fellow, everyone did their best to help him but it was no use. The morning of Jan. 8, we all decided to fly back to Muroc for our pay, laundry & mail. No one took their bags for we were all certain to come back that day. We flew over the Golden Gate Bridge & Oakland Bay Bridge and after circling San Francisco, we headed for Los Angeles & March Field. It was a beautiful hop close to the ocean all the way down. Below us was small mountains with loads of full trees. It reminded me of the Blue Ridge range near Ligonier, Pa. In 2:10, Bumgarner set Daisy Mae down on March Field runway. It was understood we were to be here for a half hour & take off for Muroc. I immediately grabbed a phone and called up Ted at Pamona. He answered and said he would be down to see me in an hour & a half Benny, Marker and I ate & made rounds of the field. Out of nowhere a call came for us to report back to the ship. I hailed a tug & as the boys piled on top we headed out to the line where Daisy Mae was parked. Bumgarner was waiting for us & I would tell you he was a little angry at our delay. However, he didn't say anything as we climbed aboard. Burnside, the co-pilot, took the plane off and I swear I could do a better job myself Gathering speed, he would be on the extreme right side of the runway & 13

then the left. How we ever got off I don't know but we did and in forty minutes we hit Muroc. Missed Ted. It was good to see the old place again. No sooner had we got out of the ship when they told us that we were grounded. Eddie's ship landed right behind us & he was grounded also. I asked what the reason was and they said an order came through for all B-26s to remove their carburetor air scoops and look at the hot air shutter for a loose bushing. We started at seven o'clock & worked to mid-night by flash light. I had charge of the left engine and sure enough the bushing was gone. Not so with the right engine. The carburetor had to be taken off in order to inspect the impeller or blower. There on each blade like shape of the impeller were small nicks. It looked just like someone had taken a file & worked on each blade. The bushing must have come loose in flight and fell through the carburetor into the impeller as it was going at terrific speed. An engine change was booked for Daisy Mae which meant we were grounded & couldn't go back to Oakland. What a disappointment to everyone. The next day the line chief came over to the ship and said it would be a couple days before we get a new engine. All the accessories were taken off and the damaged engine was ready to be pulled out of the mount. In the afternoon, Eddie and I were given a 36 hour pass and so we went to visit Joe and Jane in N. Hollywood. We hitch-hiked the whole way and made very good time. They were both at home much to our good fortune. I needed a shower and shave awfully bad and took advantage of the facilities their home offered. About nine o'clock in the evening, Joe rode Eddie and I into Hollywood and took in the sights. Tommy Dorsey was playing at the Palladium. Not ever seeing him before, we all decided to go. The ballroom was the most beautiful I have ever seen and the floor wonderful so we went upstairs to the balcony, got a table and ordered cokes. Looking over the side, we could see the orchestra and dancers. It looked tempting and I decided to ask some girl for a dance. I easily found a pretty one and, after asking her to dance, we were out on the floor. The rest of the evening was spent joyishly in that manner. -- THIS IS THE END OF THIS TEXT - 14

To download a PDF file of this account click here