Chanute Field is in the corn belt of Illinois and has the hot humid weather to go with it. We wore coveralls most of the time including all class work. Our desks consisted of chairs with arm rests having a writing area on the one arm rest. It was so hot we would unbutton the top and slip our arms out the sleeves leaving our bodies with only a tee shirt above the waist. Sweat would run down the arm rest and form a puddle behind each chair. Our sleeping quarters consisted of one large room housing 150 cadets. We were on the third floor with dining facilities on the first floor.

Having had four years R.O.T.C. training in high school and another two years in college I was picked to be a cadet officer and asked to instruct them in basic close-order drill. The old squad formation had been dropped as had the squad movements. With that little adjustment I had no trouble teaching the platoon the basics of

clear most of the trees at the end of the runway and was not gaining any altitude. The control tower was having a fit as Whitey brushed the tops of the trees until his Co-Pilot noticed the wheels were still down. Raising the wheels the ship then climbed to a safe altitude. Both Whitehurst and Scivally, the two engineers on the ship, had all but given up the ghost before the wheels were raised.

The trip was a relatively short hop of about 307 miles. Another navigator, nicknamed" Smoosell was to be given a chance to show his stuff by leading the group down the coast to the river that would lead in ten miles to the field. Flying at only 400 to 500 feet the weather which had not been good was getting no better. Smoose found the river but looking inland the ceiling seemed to be down on the deck. Milling around near the mouth of this river were some twenty B-26's all trying to decide what to do next. Capt. Fair finally called the tower and was told the ceiling was 2000 feet over the field so up the river they went to an island where they were to bear left to the field. Rather than 2000 feet the ceiling was 200 feet or less. It took a couple of shots at the end of the runway before making a successful landing. All the while there were these other twenty plus planes also trying to find the end of the runway. In time they all found it and made good landings. It is remarkable that none collided either at the mouth of the river or over the field.

As the crew left the plane they became aware of the fact that all were dripping with sweet but Capt. Fair looked like he had just had a bath.

Working along the runway were natives trying to fill pot holes etc. Many of the crew had never seen a truly black person before. These were truly black

The barracks were again standing about ten feet off the ground and every opening was covered with mosquito netting. Netting was also provided for each bunk and used by all but the foolish.

It was here that some poor pilot in an "A-2011 was found to be circling the field unable to get the wheels down. He was calling for help and it was some time before an engineer with knowledge was found to provide the help. once the engineer told the Pilot what to try the wheels came down and the plane landed with no trouble. Deep down, many of the B-26 crews were a little disappointed they missed a wheels up landing.

While visiting the PX news of a friend of Lt.Jorden was received. He had been in the squadron but shipped out early to take a plane to N. Africa. His plane had developed engine trouble at this field and no knowledgeable engineer was available to fix it. The plane would fly but only at just above take off speed. Added to his problems was the fact he had developed a bad case of Bloody Dysentery Looking him up at the hospital they were pleasantly surprised to find a clean,neat,hospital staffed with American Nurses and

Doctors. He had lost some 50 pounds, was skin and bones and a nervous wreck. When good care for both the pilot and the plane were provided both recovered and continued their trip.

It was here that news of Tommy Harmon was received. Tommy had complained at each stop that his plane was not developing full power and wanted to delay any further flights until the condition was corrected. At each stop he was told to continue. He asked other pilots to check his plane and they agreed but Harmon was threatened with a court martial unless he continued his trip. It was no surprise when we learned he had been lost when his plane went down in the jungle.

Lack of knowledgeable engineering help continued to be .a problem at every field on the entire trip.

GEORGETOWN (ATKINSON FIELD) TO BELEM 750 miles

As usual on these stops,they were told to take off again despite the fact that their compasses had not been corrected. Rush, rush, rush.

Leaving at 6;55 am on April 21,1943 they broke up into flights of four and headed to Belem. The weather was foul and a few minutes after take-off they hit rain. It turned out to be just a shower but not long after it passed they were in another down- pour. How it did rain -in buckets. None of the pilots had encountered rain like this. There was water outside and inside as well. The navigators maps! compass etc: were all wet.

The rain beat on the plane so hard we wondered how those good old engines could continue to run with that much water on them. It sounded like hail. The ships were tossed up and down and sideways until some thought it would come apart. Finally they broke out into the clear and started looking for check points. Most of this flight had been over water but now they were to look for a river, a big, river, the one really big river , the Amazon. After some thirty minutes an island in the river was located and it was little trouble finding the airport after that.

Dropping down close to the deck they did some sight-seeing until they reached the airport. Boats with funny sails, good looking beef cattle, houses and part of the city slipped under the wings all to quickly.

A quick check of the plane on landing verified the beating they had been taking. All the paint on the leading edge of the wings and tail surfaces had been beat off and the bright bare skin was shining in the sun. Harniman stated they looked beat and battered but still able to take it. This was later proved to be the case in combat. Many of the crew thanked the lord for those beautiful,faithful Pratt and Whitney R-2800 engines.

Leaving the planes they were surprised by natives appearing out of nowhere. Some were in rags, some a bit better clothed and some in the latest 1928 catalog

fashion. The crews were not much to look at either with their white sweat stained tee-shirts, army shorts, a pistol and hunting knife strapped to their belts."Frank Buck" helmets completed the dress for the day.

The natives had special passes to permit them on the field to sell their wares. Alligator skin wallets, belts, monkeys, knives, coconuts--all at exceptionally high prices. The Americans before us had established us as "Easy Marks". Some of the boys still bit and bought.

Their next surprise was the barracks. These were of plaster,painted white and covered with orange tile roofs. Laid out in a square with grass and flowers lining the paved walks. It was like flying into a tropical paradise.

Now only a few miles from the Equator they were warned again to use the mosquito netting and to guard against unhealthy diseases. Stay inside the screened in porches at night or else become bait for a thousand different forms of biting insects. Behind the barracks was a thick,green, odorous and uncompromising jungle.

There was no American dishes on the menu and the waiter spoke Portuguese. He could not understand English.Each menu had a complete word p-r-o-n-u-n-c-i-a-t-i-o-n for every item specified.It was a challenge to know what to order and then to find out what the hell it was.

At this field,as with all others,they no sooner stepped out of the plane before they were asked"How soon will you be leaving?" Any other answer than first thing in the morning started a howl that could be heard for miles.It mattered little whether you had engine trouble, a wing missing, or worse the answer was the same -- - Get going"

The natives,especially the children were often heard to utter ""Americans, reech bastards", "Gott tamm" and the favorite "Hey Joe".

The crews often were "taken" on the exchange rate of local money. Combine that with over-priced merchandise and few bargains were to be found

The Post Exchange sold just about every thing you could think of.The clerks were natural born salesmen and loved their work. They had silk stockings and the crews were told what wonderful trading items stockings would be in England. Silk stockings were just as scarce in the U.S. and many a pair was shipped home to mothers and wives.

Talking with others on the field the crews learned that President Roosevelt had stopped here on his trip to "Casablanca". Security had been a big problem in that all the natives wanted to pay honor to "Big Daddy". They were told by the soldiers lining the field that they must stand with their backs to the field --to look around would be cause for them to be shot.

It was here the crews met their first Brazilian soldier as they came in for dinner at the officers club. They were slim,well- built,looked in excellent physical shape, and

intelligent looking. Their uniforms were of German Green, with black puttees,and a good looking,green, tropical helmet for a head dress.Taken as a whole they presented a look of crisp, military efficiency.

Harniman was reminded of this a couple of years later when a Brazilian flyer, a brother prisoner of war, walked into a crowded room of worn out POWs resting during a forced march and waiting for a Red Cross truck to give them a lift.

This Brazilian flyer was dirty, unshaven, mind-weary, and foot sore..totally unlike the trim soldier they had seen in Belam. But then, the American POWs were no better

The further South the crews flew the more it became clear that to have the "in gaucho" look you just had to have alligator boots. This presented somewhat of a problem because the only place they were available was off the base. Crews were not supposed to leave the base. This rule was usually followed but in this case it just had to be broken -

Capt. Fair and a few other officers managed somehow to get into Belem only to find it was I'siestalltime and everything was closed and only a few stragglers were to be found on the streets. Spotting a black-skinned negro Capt. Fair proceeded to inquire as to where one might find such boots. He outdid himself by going into a detailed pantomime , using pidgin English gibberish to explain,with, appropriate gestures, that he wanted to purchase a pair of knee-length boots made of alligator skin.

Much to their surprise the native responded in perfect British English that he knew of a boot maker that probably could be of help and he would show them where.The boot maker turned out to be from New Orleans and did have several pair of both fancy and plain boots of various sizes. Lieutenants Simler and Cordill just happened to have the right size feet to fit two of the better alligator skinned boots. Capt. Fair could only be fitted in plain leather ones which was a thing that grated on his mind every time he looked at his subordinate officers Simler and Cordil. These two were the envy of all others for the rest of the trip.

Fair and his friends came back with tales of the narrow streets, the filth, the flies and the lack of sanitation in this Brazilian city of Belem. They described in great detail how the local butcher had the meat on tables in the street with the blood running off the edge and how the flies were having a great feast in the many juicy cavities of the meat.

Capt.Fair's description was nothing compared to the lecture the crews received on the vigorous forms of social diseases common in the tropics and its bearing on the life expectancy of the average Brazilian which at that time was 38 years. The American 60 to 70 years made them realize the advancement in physical care they had enjoyed in the states.

On a totally different note the crews were told the 451 Squadron had set a record for bringing all 14 of its aircraft this far without leaving some stragglers along the way. As a matter of f act the record had been broken two stops back.Our feeling of celebration was to be short lived.

BELEM, BRAZIL TO NATAL,BRAZIL 1000 miles

Harniman reports he has flown in a lot of bad weather both before and since April 22,1943 but never has he experienced as long and scary one, as their trip from Belem to Natal, Brazil.

He reports that in all the B-26 flying he had done up to that date never had he felt the need nor comfort of a safety belt. He found it impossible to stay in the navigator's seat without the restraint of the safety belt. Even a direct barrage of flack, which they encountered in combat, was nothing compared to the tossing around they got that day. Throughout it all they just kept "Thanking God" that the engines kept running and the wings stayed on.

The Meteorology Department had informed them, in their preflight briefing, that the Equatorial Front was supposed to be some 500 miles south near Fortalaza. They were given definite warnings about the front and told to go around it or under it. If it had not built up too high, so that they could top it by 2000 feet, they could try to go over it.

Actually the crews can still be heard cussing about this. The front was less than a hundred miles from them. The station people had to know where it was. Just more of this, rush, rush, rush crap.

It was with a great sense of security they entered what they thought was just a local rain storm less than a half hour after takeoff. Not being given the right information nearly got them killed.

When the front was first sighted some thirty minutes after takeoff Capt. Fair asked was this the dreaded Equatorial Front or just a rain squall. Having been assured the front was still 400 miles away he was told it was just a rain cloud.

Harniman reports that within two minutes of entering the front, it seemed as though all heaven and earth had shaken loose. Had he not been able to look around and be assured he was in a B- 26 he would have been led to believe he was on the "Grand Canyon" roller coaster in the Luna Park, Coney Island, with a couple of donkey hoofs thrown in,

plus the thrills and chills of a haunted house.

The navigators instrument panel seemed to be revolving in all directions and even the temperature gauges were constantly changing. The altimeter looked like it had suddenly incurred the "St. Vitus" dance while,at the same time,the speedometer was doing a fantastic jitterbug all of it's own. If the constantly pelting of rain and hail was not enough, there were curious blue flashes zig-zagging around the compartment.Every now and then a blinding, lightning flash would be observed lighting up the entire heavens.

Capt. Fair and Lt. Jordon were hanging onto the controls trying, with some success, to keep the ship halfway

upright. In the navigators . compartment Sgt. Maynard and Lt. Harniman were being soaked from the pressurized ran that seeped through every nook and cranny. From time to time they would exchange sickly grins to assure each other that they were holding on OK.

Navigating under these conditions was near impossible but the entire crew were doing their best to keep on some desired course and keep the ship in the air. Again thanks were expressed for those faithful Pratt and Whitney engines.

After what seemed hours Harniman reported to the pilots that Sao-Luis should be about five minutes ahead and to the right. A few minutes later Lt.reported he could spot St-Luis through a hole in the clouds just where it should be. Capt. Fair was then given a course to Natal and asked to look for a small village that should show up in about five minutes a little to the left. From there to Natal the trip was a "breeze".

Once the problems of the plane were cared for Harniman made his way to the weather office to report the Equatorial front was not where he had been told but, in fact, just south of Belem. His report provided them with a laugh because they said the front was known to be there and had been f or weeks. To the crews this was just another example of the "Army" giving out false information just to keep the planes moving. The fact that it came close to costing the lose of several ships was, apparently, of no concern to them

The only plausible reason must have been the known fear crews had of the much talked about "Equatorial Front". Thinking it was far south and not much of it would be encountered would give the crews courage enough to go ahead. To the Field Commander keeping the planes moving along the "Southern Route" was all important to them.

Soon after landing Capt. Fair went to the operations shack to see what he could learn about the other planes in the squadron. When he returned he had a look of much concern. Several of our ships had not left Belem, some had turned back to Belem after hitting the front and Lt. Ernest Reese's plane was reported to have turned back but had not been heard from since. Cold shivers ran down the backs of all those who had made it to Belem. They knew Reese had to be down somewhere, and the country over which they had been flying had little to offer in the way of emergency landing field or open spots.

All those at Belem hastened to the operations office to see what new word could be had on Reese. After what seemed to be hours they were told Reese's crew had bailed out over the jungle and that Reese had made a crash landing. Capt. Fair requested permission to go back and search f or Reese. Permission was denied. Fair' then telegraphed Lt. Taylor, who had been delayed at Belem with engine trouble, to make a search but permission was again denied. The reason in each case was that a War was going on and there was not time nor fuel to spare for a search. That

left them with nothing to do but wait for the rest of the squadron planes to make it to Natal.

Our next hop was to be the big one---from Natal to the Ascension Island --- 1448 miles out over the Atlantic to a five by seven mile place to land---the absolute limit of our gas supply.

I insisted our compass had to be swung and convinced Capt. Fair our ship was due for a hundred hour engine check. Both these facts provided us with a solid good reason to remain at Natal for a few days longer. We thought we would know about Reese by that time. So we stayed and finally left on April 27,1943.

While in Natal they were able to get their clothes washed by native who had a very unique way of pressing the clothes. They would spread them out flat on a table or rock and smooth out the wrinkles with anything smooth available, and let the sun dry them in that way. The pants came away with a pretty good crease and the shirts were quite acceptable. This method was very useful for the rest of the trip and later when Harniman became a prisoner of war in Germany.

Native boys were offering shoe shines for five or ten cents. When approached by a couple of them the first one offered a shine for ten cents. The second kid quickly said his price was still five cents. Most of the crews got a five cents shine.

Lunch proved to be bananas, coffee, and powdered eggs. Powdered eggs were standard fair on the entire trip and later in England, but, at Natal the mixture was just right and were consumed in much more than normal amounts.

It was here they were introduced to the Brazilian "Coke", Guarana Sula. No American cokes were available only tomato or pineapple juice in small cans were offered.

So they tried "Guarana Sula".It had a decidedly sweet, coffee- like taste, crossed with a faintly bitter tang, selling for a nickel a bottle. Some liked it and some did not.

A few planks over a barrel made an open air shop from which could be purchased "Natal Boots" for five bucks. They were shoe like but about twelve inches high. They were excellent for walking over the deep, white, Natal sand. Capt. Fair again shook his head at the trouble he had gone to try to get a pair at Belem.

Fancy "Swiss" watches were offered at good bargains. Few of the well known makes were discernible and most of those on sale were fat and oversized. Some of the fellows bought more than one and later made good profit when selling them in England.

The shoe-shine kids became the pets of the entire squadron and many a shine was had when not truly needed.

When Capt. Taylor's ship finally reached Natal the full story of Lt. Reese's crash unfolded. Reese had been airborne

only about thirty minutes, and was still climbing, when,at only 1000 feet, one engine failed. Fully loaded it would not maintain altitude with only one engine. Considerable altitude was lost trying to restart the engine. The crew then dropped the rear bomb bay fuel tanks and threw every thing they could overboard. Still not being able to hold what little altitude they had Reese gave the bail-out call. Sgt. Lamont and Lt. Egan bailed out first. Lt. Luce remained for a while trying to help Reese but then finding the problem hopeless he jumped. By this time the ship was too low for Reese to jump so he crashed into the jungle.

Lamont was the first to arrive back at Belem. Natives hearing of the big reward for bringing home downed flyers had found Lamont and Egan. Both were put into dugout canoes and paddled down the river to Belem. Egan had a fractured ankle but OK otherwise. Luce came in later and it was Luce that led the recovery team back to the crash site. Reese was found dead in the crash.

Reese was awarded the distinguished flying cross for bravery in remaining with the ship until the crew had gotten out safely.

During the four days the crews remained at Natal much was accomplished. Most of the ships underwent a much needed one hundred hour inspection and the compasses were checked. Several un-authorized trips into Natal were made by the crews. This took some scheming to first get out the field gate and later get back again.

The ships looked quite different from each other depending on how much of a beating they had taken in the front. Lamb's ship still looked like new while Fair's ship looked old and beat up. Most of the paint on Fair's ship was gone.

The Army Brass at the field was still pushing us to leave.We were still delaying in an effort to get the compasses checked. They even had the gall to tell us we could use the radio beacon on the Ascension Island which, according to the "Army Brass" never faltered. The point was made over and over again that the beacon was flawless like the one here. The argument was won when the crews pointed out the fact that the beacon here was now out of service for repairs.

A Lt. Colonel came along and resolved the argument by offering us the alternative of flying out toward the Ascension Island and if we did not break out into sunshine within an hour we were to turn back. In the sun we could take sun-shots, correct our compasses, and proceed.

Meanwhile, Capt. Nestherode, who had Lt.Irvin Sanow check his compass the day before, had already left for the Ascension Island. However one hour later, Nestlerode returned. He had found the warm front too much and had returned. Despite all this they were told to leave the next day.

NATAL TO ASCENSION ISLAND 1448 miles

April 27,1943,the 451st Bomb Squadron planes left for the Ascension Island. Take off had been before daylight and in cloudy weather. After only about twenty minutes they popped out of the clouds into bright sunshine. Nothing can describe the relief and joy that bright tropical sun brought to all the crews.

Harniman was able to make several sun shots to confirm his location so he could report with conviction their eta(estimated time of arrival). Capt.Fair broke radio silence and checked with some of the other ships as to when they expected to arrive.Everything went well and all landed only several minutes apart except Lt.Nestlerode.

Most of the flight had been made at an altitude of 9000 feet. For the last hour and a half Lt.Nestlerode had pointed the nose of his ship slightly downward so as to pick up extra speed.He came in some twenty five minutes ahead of the others.

Harniman took advantage of the clear weather to experiment with the use of the drift meter. By picking a wave and following it as it passes from one edge to the other of the meter one can calculate the wind drift. To get any degree of accuracy one must know first the true altitude of the plane.

Speed can also be calculated in much the same way providing the altitude is correct and the navigator careful.

Six ships(from other squadrons) missed spotting the Island and had to be called back when they flew past the Island.Lucky for them their radios were working and the control fellows were on their toes.

There is only one runway on the Island. Reaching the end of it you must taxi up a hundred foot hill to reach the parking area. On leaving you have to taxi back down the same hill. This was the first time the crews had encountered hill climbing in a B-26.

The entire Island is bare lava rock. You can take in just about everything on the Island by looking around. There are no trees. All the facilities were housed in tents including the mess hall. The one wooden building housed operations. Lava rock and rock dust was everywhere and in everything.

Swimming was not recommended because of a very strong undertow. Despite this a few tried it and found the _:~oral cut their feet which brought a swarm of small fish feeding on the blood seeping from the cut. The swimming was of short duration and tried only once.

There was a movie on the Island. It was open air style with the projector up on a hill shinning down to a screen below. The film being shown was relatively new and a joy to watch.

Capt.Fair received a telegram just shortly before time for take-off informing him that Lt.Cordill's navigator, Bill Clark, had suddenly become ill at Natal and Cordell would be coming along with his flight using a borrowed ATC

navigator. He was requesting Fair to leave behind one navigator to guide Cordel’s flight from the Ascension Island to Africa. Capt. Fair choose Harniman so he grabbed his B-4 bag,instruments and was left behind.

Harniman was put in a tent with Ltd.Sawyer and Peters. Their plane had cracked up at Natal and they were waiting for a replacement to be flown in to them.

It seemed Sawyer and Peters had run into a bombardier, named Brown,who claimed he could navigate as well as any because he had been taught by a fellow named Harniman. It dawned on them suddenly sitting before them was the fellow Brown had been talking about.

Crossing the Equator qualified you to become a member of the "short snorter" club. Any member could hit any non member for a buck until the non-member had his proof of member-ship. Proof consisted of two signatures,dates, and place where you joined. Once a member you kept your "short snorter"bill handy to prove your standing. It also enabled you to collect from other non- members.

Harniman found Lt. Cordill to be a "fliers flyer". He was the kind of fellow one could follow with confidence.

ASCENSION ISLAND TO LIBERIA, AFRICA 1000+ miles

The briefing, the evening before leaving Ascension,the crews were told they would have a small front to fly through before hitting the much dreaded Equatorial Front again. Harniman reports his sleep was anything but sound that night.

April 29,1943 they left for Roberts Field,Liberia. It was early dawn as they climbed up from Ascension only to run into soup. Harniman and Cordill had agreed to fly around as many of the clouds as possible and under those that could not be avoided. Harniman would try to keep track of what average course they were making. The clouds and soup stayed with them for four and a half hours, much to their displeasure. Flying over water for hours , when you can't get a good f ix on your course and location is un- nerving to say the least. Breaking into the clear for a short time gave the navigators time to get sun shots and confirm their calculations as to where they were and what course to follow from that point.

In a very short time trouble could be seen ahead. The Equatorial Front was there and the top was above 9000 feet. As previously agreed Cordill chose to go under it.

Contrary to their previous experience the front was no great problem. Sure there was rain and plenty of it but the ride was pretty smooth and the hail, what there was of- it, was no problem. An hour after again getting into the clear they could make out land.

Harniman had plotted a course that would bring them in over the shoreline to the right of their intended

destination. This often is done to be sure the turn required is in the right direction. He was pretty sure of his position because the arrival was within three and a half minutes of his calculated land fall time.

It was just when every thing seemed to be going great when they were challenged by a U.S.Naval convoy. No time was lost in shooting colored flares of the colors designated for that day. It worked and they continued with no more trouble landing at Roberts Field about at the time estimate.d.,

Liberia turned out to be quite different from what the crews expected. The dense tropical jungle, which had become all to familiar to them, was missing and in its place was burned grass land.

They were more surprised at the lack of activity on the flight line. A jeep guided them to a tie-down spot and directed them to the operations and barracks areas. Over riding all else was a slow, somber, drum beat coming from somewhere off the field. It continued for the entire stay at Rooberts Field. It seemed a local chief had died and the drums were beating in memory of him.

Moving along the flight line were two interesting things. First there was a DC-3 airplane with both wingtips torn off and the rest of the plane in equal condition to exhibit the severe beating it had taken on the trip from the Ascension Island to Roberts. The pilot must have had one horrible ride and demonstrated exceptional skill in being able to bring the thing in for a safe landing.

Next was a ship named "Herman The German". It was named after the bombardier "Lt. Herman". The pilot Lt. MacArthur was a nephew of General MacArthur. Lt. MacArthur was a friend of several of the 451st crews. They had been chasing him from the time they left Florida. The reports were the same at every stop. MacAuthur was just ahead.

Lts.Simler and Hailey did find MacAuthur. He was in the only bar within miles of the field. It was a Firestone rubber plantation accessible only via a dug-out canoe. A small barracuda infested stream led down through the brush to the field. They found MacArthur, a bar, got a thrill, and came back with their thirst quenched.

Nighttime found the lights on the usual poker game and the doors open so the bugs could get in. Those bugs,Ugh!. They were of all sizes as well as all colors. They seemed blind in that they flew around bumping into everything in their way and being crushed underfoot. It was like having a room full of flying commanders.

It was here the full story of Tommy Harmon was revealed. He had been rushed off just one too many fields with engines that were short of the power required to carry the loaded plane. The plane had crashed into the jungle. Harmon had walked out in his shorts and undershirt with the help of some natives. He led a search party back to the crash site only to find all the crew dead.

This is a terrible thing to happen to a pilot. He is taught to be the last one to get out not the only one. The story was told over and over again without the facts of the faulty engines. He was returned to the States and trained as a fighter pilot and made a good record in the Pacific.

The story goes that when he walked into the Copacabana with his wife all the pilots stood up and walked out to show their feelings about a pilot that would leave his ship before the last member of his crew were safely out.

The jet blackness of the natives continued to impress the crews. They were not used to such true blackness. The language was such as to make speaking English difficult. Our waiter at breakfast had most of his front teeth missing which added to our trouble understanding him.

LIBERIA TO DAKAR 750 miles

April 30,1943 Harniman left Liberia for Dakar. This was to be a simple flight up the coast to the famous, ancient city of Dakar.

Harniman planned on getting a good drift, wind speed, and location early in the flight so he could then sit back and have a simple work free ride. He reports that Cordill and others on the flight had planned to make his trip a little different. Every time he settled down to do some serious calculations he would be called up to the front to have some point of interest shown him. Finally he removed his head phones so he would not be bothered. That did not work either for the engineer, Cunningham, motioned him to come up front again. This time a splash had been observed in the water and it was believed to be a plane going down. Several of the other ships had observed the same splash and were circling the spot looking for life rafts. Believing they could see people waving from a inflatable raft they reported the position and called for help.

Harniman thought they were about 50 miles off shore so it was this position being reported. A check of his position led him to believe the figure in error so a correction was sent in.

On arriving at Dakar they found no lost ship was believed to have gone down and no reports of picking up any downed airmen. As a matter of fact they seemed to question the accuracy of the sighting and reports. Nothing was ever heard to clear up the mystery.

Some time after the downed ship activity all the horsing around suddenly stopped when they ran into fog which extended down to about 800 feet. That is not an ideal altitude to be flying over unknown areas. Luck was with them because before it became serious they flew out of it and had clear weather on into Dakar. This had been of great concern

to Harniman because he had determined the wind was not what they had been told to expect.

Harniman recalls spotting Dakar. They had flown over a myriad of islands and ahead could be seen vast expanses of white sand. Off to the left could be seen the natural colored roof tops of he city. Slightly to the right the airport could be seen.

As the wheels touched down a surprise ran through the crews for the runway was made of steel mats. Unless you have landed on these you can't believe the noise they make as the wheels clank over them.

There were no hills around only flat,white miles of sand.As,they taxied up to their parking area they were glad to see "Fearless Freddie Fosdick" sitting there with the rest of the squadron ships. They had caught up again and were a whole unit with the exception of Lt.Reece's ship which had gone down in the jungle outside Belem, Brazil.

Dakar was hot. The natives looked like so many others along the "Southern Route". These were dressed in tattered long robes and,what could be seen of heir arms and legs, were covered with sores.Big , raw, sore spots seemed to be all over them.

However, these natives had grins a mile wide and were always sneaking out of the underbrush, having watched you smoke a cigarette, immediately filching the butt as soon as it was thrown away.

They were constantly around the planes and would take anything not nailed down or under guard. A revolver shot would send them scampering for the underbrush,but would return soon enough.

Once a woman was trying to recover a butt she had seen behind one of the planes. Despite the fact the engines were running she got pretty close and when the pilot gunned the engines she went tumbling back a good hundred feet before getting clear of the prop blast. The pilot could not see her and fortunately she was not hurt, just sand blasted. She picked herself up and ran into the underbrush.

The barracks at Dakar were the same as Roberts Field. The field was British run.Thank goodness the meals were better than average which helped.

The"powers that bell were soon after Capt.Fair to get his group off the field and on its way. A briefing for the crews was held that afternoon by a Lt.Rupp. Harniman had gone through pilots training with him. Harniman had washed out in primary school and Rupp in the next step up"basic". Both men had then gone to navigators school with Rupp being sent to ATC.

There were to be few check points on the flight to Marrakech. The route took them through a pass in the Atlas mountains. There was little to guide them to and through the

pass. There was a field at Tindorf, which was just south of the mountains.If the pass was not clear they would be called back to Tindorf.Such a briefing did little to settle ones nerves and assure a good nights sleep.

No one warned them that they would pass over an iron ore deposit that would throw their compasses way off a true reading.

The tension was broken a little by a film being shown. Monty Wooley was showing in "The Man Who Came To Dinner".To this day Harniman still says thanks to Mr. Wooley.

DAKAR TO TINDORF 1200 miles

May 1,1943 the squadron left for Tindouf with the understanding that they would try for Marrackech if the weather would permit it. The Atlas Mountains stood in the flight line from Tindouf to Marrackech and they were high enough to require going through passes rather than just over them. Unless the passes were clear the planes were to land at Tindouf.

The flight would be over dessert country with few if any land marks to determine your whereabouts. The weather was fine and there was little trouble staying out of trouble with the countries that were not friendly. All went well until an emergency field had been located and later an easy to identify outcropping of rock had slipped under the wings.

It was at this point Harniman noticed the compass was not reading what he thought it should read. They had been following the Tindouf radio beacon and not the compass readings. A check with the astro compass confirmed the compass error. From then on frequent checks were made and soon they were getting landing instructions from Tindouf tower.

The only trouble was they could not find the airport. After much searching they found the runway which was only a line in the dessert with landing lights along the side. Once found the landing was normal. After landing they learned their flight path had taken them over another large iron deposit and was the cause of the compass error.

The Tindouf tower had instructed them down because the mountain passes were covered with clouds and Marrackech was being drowned with rain.

Captain Taylor's flight was two hours late because they had not caught the compass error until flying over a lake that was just on the edge of their maps. A drastic change in course had brought them back to Tindouf with only a few gallons of fuel left. They had wasted time and gas looking for Tindouf until believing the lake to be what it was they turned and soon found Tindouf. Those planes that had landed helped Taylor locate the strip.

Thee first thing that caught their attention was an airplane that looked like a world war one machine. It seemed to have only two motors but four propellers. In fact there were four eight hundred and sixty horsepower engines with the front ones pulling and the rear ones pushing.It was a French "Farmen Tandem 2221'and had seen action as a bomber at the outbreak of war. Bombs were rolled out the door since it had no bomb bay. It was covered with patches, that covered holes, made by flack and shells.

Two French pilots had flown it here only to be caught waiting for parts for months and months. What a miserable place to be stuck.

If you can remember the picture "Beau Geste"you will recall the desert fortress where that long, drawn out battle took place; miles and miles of shimmering sand in all directions that one could see as the liberating French troops came riding up to the death-ridden bodies that rimmed the fortress wall.

Looking around the air field, one could see the weather- beaten windsock on the barren roof of the operations building with the American and French flags billing in the wind, side by side, at its top. The planes completed this picture of World War II modern warfare.

Just a short distance away was the fort --- old,ageless, deteriorated.The French colonial troops guarding it blended perfectly in the background as they kept sentry duty at the ancient gate.

With bare feet and dressed in sand-colored khaki, with gold trimmings;white pantaloons, and two bullet belts crossing their chests, they fitted perfectly our picture- of the famed French Foreign Legion.Their black hair and dark faces made them seem as tough a soldier as their predecessors. Despite this,they turned out to be just as human and able to laugh as any one.

Inside the fort walls the buildings were made with mud walls,low roofs and the streets were of sand with the wind pilling up more every day. The soldiers were dressed in every conceivable vintage of French uniform ever commissioned for the Foreign Legion. The children with black teeth and ragged clothes were begging for cigarettes and chewing gum. All this made one feel like they were in another world --- not our modern world.

The quarters at Tindouf consisted of a 15 by 40 foot low ceiling building with cots placed side by side. Three blankets were given to each man which one would believe would be enough,considering how hot the days were.The first night the crews got a big surprise in that they were very cold all night long. They soon learned to sleep with all the clothes they had available. Some even brought their sleeping bags from the planes.

Getting washed before breakfast brought another surprise. The only water available was from five gallon tin cans that had been out in the cold all night. One splash of that and you were wide awake.

The local latrines were another shocker. Holes-in-the-floor, with rough hewn outlines for your feet was all there was. No flushing. No problem locating them for the smell was all too present. With your feet in the proper spots you never missed the hole. These facilities smelled and looked like they had been used for centuries.

The weather at Marrakech was reported to be rain and the passes through the Atlas mountains closed for B-26 flying. Having the day off, visits to the local village, the fort, and a few other places were made.

The village chieftain's home had a well kept garden and an ancient, circular, wooden pump that supplied water for this desert paradise. This home was separate from the rest of the village. Running around, and slyly watching the Americans, from above their nose-covered veils, were an all-aged, variety of females...busy with their appointed tasks.The crews had been told or had heard not to gaze upon these veiled women. Not knowing the true score some did and some did not. They tried to avoid looking directly at them and then only when they thought the women were looking the other way.

Passing the chieftain's house the village homes were seen to be made of that same,dull, brownish-red mud that blended with the desert landscape. Each home had a small square courtyard, walled in with the same-colored mud and brick. Dilapidated, weather beaten doors were at each entranceway.The roofs of each house however, were white.

All the homes were built around a central courtyard, which was also the market-place or "medina". Standing alone at the corner of the village was a tall tower which was believed to be the local Moslem prayer tower. Any thought of inspecting the wares of the merchants was killed by the heat of the day,the smelling stench and the ever present flies.

What did prove of interest was the grouping of the raggedly- clad merchants...in groups of twos or threes ... gabbing away much the same as was the custom in American small towns when our merchants gathered around the pot belly stoves to chat.

Just across the way was the French Foreign Legion garrison. It was here the Frenchman's love for color became apparent.A very colorful uniformed Legionnaire emerged from the garrison and was presumed to be an officer. His tunic was red-gold-and white. His white baggy pants did much to enhance his colorful appearance. His cap however, was pride and joy within itself. It combined all the colors of his tunic and pants together. He looked like a captain but turned out to be the 11 sergeant-Maj or". From him they learned

this post was part of the Camel Corps only there no camels nor corp in as much as they were away fighting with the British and Americans on the Tunisian Front. Much interest was shown about our forty-five pistols but no trades were made.

Having discovered the section of town supporting the "oldest professional establishments' in the world, most of the squadron had sense enough to stay clear of their services but there is in every group some who 'have to try the wares.

Many found a sleek, dark-haired native girl who put on a strip tease dance for them. They also arranged to have a candle light dance the next evening.

Wine ("vino"") also came into its own on the afternoon of the second Tindouf day. At 20 cents a canteenful the natives were soon getting plenty of customers.It left an almost permanent, purple discoloration to the lips, teeth and tongue. What it did to the stomach was something else.It proved to be a powerful stomach- wrenching laxative. All were soon sick or passing out where ever they happen to be.

The rate of exchange for the franc had been 22g to 28g before the war but was now only two cents. A pocket full of these French bills were practically worthless in American money.

After one night in the cold single room the Squadron was moved about two miles to a villa owned by the Foreign Legion. The villa was much better having several rooms and toilets with cold showers. The toilet was of great interest, --none of the group had ever seen a vaginal flush heretofore.

That evening, they 'heard the story about the "strip tease" some of the boys had been given by "Negritall , a local negro girl. Interest increased as the evening wore on and soon all were looking forward to attending tomorrow nights "candle light dance".

All depended on the weather. The last report was that it was still raining hard in Marrakech and in the Atlas Mountain pass that had to be flown through.

The next morning, May 3,1943, we found the wind and sun just as miserable as before. The wind blew the fine sand into everything and all over everything. The planes had been protected as best as possible by placing wooden plugs in the air intakes of the engines and closing all the windows and hatches.

During the day General Munson of Ordinance had flown in. He became stuck in Tindouf the same as the bomb squadron group. Harniman reports that it makes the plain soldier feel better knowing the "higher ups" are having to cope with the same conditions as they.

Laundry had become a problem again but was solved by turning it over to local natives that, using Squadron soap,

the clothes were returned in a few hours clean and dry.

This was the night the great "strip teasel' dance or "candle light" dance was to be seen. Leaving the quarters the entire group strolled down to the place of entertainment. There were all kinds of remarks being made and little was known what to really expect.

The place of entertainment turned out to be a room about 10 feet wide and 20 feet long. An old crone was in charge of the three or four teen age girls and the only light provided was by a twig fire.

The roof was low, the walls and floor earthen. There was a peculiar musk smell that permeated the place.All in all the situation appeared ludicrous. Harniman reports that had it not been for the "razzing" he would have to endure, he would have left.The whole deal left him, and a few others he learned later, slightly nauseated and disgusted.

The girls were interested in money only and after every five minutes of cavorting around in the nude, they would fly around to take up a collection.

Instead of improving, the situation got worse. The girls, being teenagers, were trying but the performance was crudely amateurish. In the first place, their profession was not dancing. In the second place,they did not have candles. In the third place, the fellows who arranged the whole deal and sold us on t , did it mostly to have a laugh on the whole squadron.

When the fellows quit paying, the girls got mad and tried to drum up some of their regular business. There' were no takers.This was supposed to be the night of "Nagrita" She had been sent for but had not put in an appearance.

In due time, a lovely-bodied Egyptian woman appeared. She was older and more fully developed.She must have been around eighteen or nineteen with flowing black hair and a tantalizing body. This now seemed to be getting much better. First came the slow strip and then dancing but so tame the fellows were demanding more and asking about the candles.

After much haggling one of the fellows that could speak French explained the problem. "Negrita 11 let it be known there were no candles but if she could borrow a flash light it would have to do. She pounced on Harniman asking for his flash light. With some concern he let her have it.

With that, she went back to her rhythmic dance' and then, with one quick swoop, she put the lighted head of that flashlight up into where no self-respecting flashlight would ever have thought to intrude.She then cavorted and danced with the glow of the flashlight keeping in tune with her gyrations.

Later when the show was all over she tried to return the flashlight. Harniman refused at which point she offered other services in payment of the light but these were also

refused. Later in England he was using a flashlight and some one called out,"Heh,Ken, I thought you gave that away in Tindouf.11

As no one could guess how long a flight the trip to Marrakech would be, the ships had to be filled with gas. Each ship would require about 400 gallons. All the fuel at Tindouf was in 54 gallon barrels. Fuel was hand pumped from the barrels into the ships.The price was $6.00 per gallon or $2,400.00 per ship.

Tindouf To Marrakech Aprox.350 miles.

May 4