Adkins, Donald V.
In Vietnam air combat, from 50 feet above the ground to an altitude of 2000 feet is the “dead zone”. You had to fly a helicopter below 50 feet from the ground to surprise the enemy or else over 2000 feet altitude, which was outside the effective range of small arms fire. You did not survive in the dead zone. Donald V. Adkins avoided the dead zone and survived his 750 Vietnam combat missions as a helicopter pilot to enable him to later retire with many honors from the Army.
Upon graduation from high school in Charleston WVA, Adkins enrolled at Marshall University on an athletic scholarship, participating in football, wrestling, and track. His father, who was a World War II veteran, encouraged the military life, so Adkins joined the Army ROTC. He was obligated to two years of active duty upon graduation. Shortly after graduation from Marshall, he was commissioned as a second lieutenant and assigned to an Armor (tank) unit in Fort Knox, KY. It was only four months later when he was sent to Korea, assigned to the Seventh Infantry Division to assist in guarding the two-mile wide demilitarized zone on the 38th parallel between North and South Korea. On the way to Korea, while waiting in an airport, Adkins heard John Foster Dulles, US Secretary of State; say, “If necessary, we will fight to the last man in Korea”. Adkins and his fellow soldiers looked at each other and remarked, “He is talking about us”.
When not on the DMZ border, Adkins was assigned as reconnaissance platoon leader, commanding two tanks, and five machine gun jeeps doing “war games” and training exercises. His mission was to find the enemy and suppress their activity.
Adkins had been married to Jane for a year when assigned to Korea and she could not officially join him for the thirteen-month assignment. She did come over as a “tourist” however, and lived in an apartment in Seoul. Adkins’ first daughter was born in Korea.
After his 13-month Korea duty, Adkins was able to choose his next assignment to Fort Knox KY, training soldiers in tank operations. Upon returning to Fort Knox, Adkins decided to make the Army his career and applied for a regular commission.
Adkins remarked that the worst job in a tank is that of “gunner”. The other tank crew members can look out a hatch or slit opening but the loader cannot see outside from his position except through an optical viewfinder. The confined tank space can cause problems for a crewmember who is not psychologically suited for the task. There is much foam padding inside a tank, but crew members still must wear head protection for the frequent jolts and bumps. Firing a gun is very dangerous in a tank. A crewmember could be crushed by the gun’s recoil if he is not in the proper position.
After receiving his regular commission, Adkins applied for Airborne and Ranger training – a 13-week course. This was both physically and emotionally demanding. It included hand-to-hand and bayonet combat training. Several men dropped out before completion of the courses. The instructors were known to say “Completion of the course is a matter of mind over matter – we don’t mind and you don’t matter.” Going five days without sleep and food, except what could be dug up or found growing, worked on a man’s mind more than the physical aspects of the training. Earning a Ranger badge is an extraordinary achievement.
The airborne portion of the training included that of building up the whole body, especially the legs, as well as practicing the acrobatic part of the landing, which allows a person to absorb the shock over his whole body. The instructors joked that all parachutes were guaranteed, saying, “If a parachute does not open, you can always come back and get another one”. After the required five jumps, Adkins earned his parachutist wings. This, not being enough for Adkins, he volunteered to attend a jungle-training course in Panama. This taught him how to navigate and survive in primitive conditions.
Upon return to Fort Knox, Adkins applied for flight school; first at Fort Rucker, Alabama as a fixed wing observation pilot and later to Fort Walters Texas for helicopter training. He graduated in October 1962 in the middle of the Cuban Missile Crisis and was assigned a special command going into Cuba as part of an attack force. These orders were countermanded, and he returned to Fort Knox to an Advanced Armor course. Germany was his next duty station for two years as Adjutant of an Aviation Battalion. About this time in 1966, combat in Vietnam was heating up. Pilots qualified in the “Huey” helicopter were needed badly in Vietnam. Adkins was not trained in the Huey so was sent to a quick instruction course. His instructor told Adkins that he “could not fail” the course because he was needed in Vietnam. Adkins received orders to the First Cavalry Division in Vietnam for one year, arriving on 8/11/66 at Pleiku. Upon arrival, he observed ambulances moving about and wounded being treated – not a good omen. Adkins was promptly sent to An Khe, his base camp, called a Landing Zone, where he would live the next year. His new home was a tent.
Captain Adkins was put in charge of a scout platoon consisting of ten OH 13 light observation helicopters. These had two seats and a bubble canopy with machine guns on either side. His job was to find the enemy. The night before the mission, he would be briefed and then go to bed. He would get up before daylight, eat a good breakfast, and look at maps showing recent trails where Viet Cong were traveling. If he found VC, he would call in the lift helicopters with their troops to deal with the enemy. If much enemy activity was found he would fly for his limit of 2 hours and 40 minutes of fuel, return, refuel, and go out again until the problems were handled – that sometimes was from dawn to dusk. Then came the reports of the day’s activity to mission interrogators before concluding the day’s work. Every day was the same. The way Adkins kept up with the day of the week was; each Monday he had to take a large malaria “horse pill” in addition to the small one he took every day. Worship services did not help him remember because services could be held any day of the week due to the chaplain’s erratic schedule.
The same ground was fought over several times during Adkins’ time in Vietnam. In September of 1966, he was sent to Phan Thiet near Saigon to clear out enemy strongholds. The base always had razor wire around the perimeter and guards on duty, to watch for infiltrators. Adkins typically had “first light” and “last light” missions. The first light missions frequently caught the VC guerrillas still marching to their destination. Sometimes smoke from breakfast fires gave away their location for later attack by our forces. Last light missions were flown to keep the enemy from advancing near the base for a night attack. Flights had to be close to the ground to see the enemy in the jungle. Many times Adkins’ helicopter skids almost hit the treetops. Sometimes, he could not tell where the enemy was until he was fired upon.
In his cavalry troop, there were scout helicopters, gunships, lift ships, and platoons of infantry. The scouts would find the enemy; lift helicopters would take the troops to the enemy with fire support from gunships. Adkins stayed in Phan Thiet until December 1966 and returned to troop headquarters where he was promoted to Major and made Troop Commander. Adkins then began flying gun ship missions. Adkins’ Huey gunship had mini guns like Gatling guns on both sides capable of firing 5000 rounds per minute. It had 14 rockets, which were fired two at a time by aiming the helicopter at the target. Some gunships also had grenade launchers.
The cooperation with the Air force was superb. Adkins could call in B-52 strikes on large targets he found, and the sensation was similar to an earthquake when the bombs struck their target. The bombers could obliterate a square mile of countryside. It was routine that civilians be warned of the impending strikes so they could evacuate the area.
Adkins was often in the position of helping his fellow soldiers escape from dangerous situations. On one mission, two helicopters had been shot down and Adkins put himself in an exposed position while hovering over the downed helicopters, suppressing enemy fire as other helicopters came to rescue the crew. Adkins himself was shot down twice. The first time, he was rescued by an Air Force helicopter and the second time by an infantry platoon, which provided security to escape. The medals and commendations Adkins earned are testimony to his valor under fire.
One of the most difficult problems was identifying the enemy. Viet Cong guerrillas would live inconspicuously in the villages but while friendly today, tomorrow they would try to kill you. Some of the VC were only 14 years old and some of the VC women were tougher fighters than the men. Adkins had no animosity toward the Vietnamese people per se and liked some of the civilians very much. However, the atrocities he heard about made him eager to rid the earth of the enemy who could do such things.
Adkins had opportunity to take rest and recreation leave to Hawaii while in Vietnam and Jane could have traveled to be with him but they elected not to do so. As difficult as it was the first time he had to say goodbye to Jane as he left for combat, it would be doubly difficult now that he knew what awaited him upon his return to Vietnam. He did finally take a few personal days off and his destination was wherever the “next airplane” was headed. It happened to be Penang, Malaysia where he enjoyed a brief respite from combat.
The Ahn Lo valley was called the valley of death. Nothing lived there because it had been bombed and fought over until no living thing survived. When Adkins was sent home after his year in Vietnam, it sickened him to hear of later battles in that same valley where some of his men had been killed while capturing it.
Adkins is proud to say that his unit never left a man behind. Every crewmember down was rescued and brought to safety. All bodies of those killed in action were also recovered. One of Adkins’ most heart wrenching duties was to write home to the wives and parents of those killed in action.
Adkins is proud of the young soldiers he served with. Without exception, they did a good job in an unpopular war and would not let their friends down in very trying circumstances.
Adkins completed his duty in Vietnam and enjoyed a happy homecoming with his family, one of whom was an 18-month-old child who did not know “daddy”. Adkins career continued with assignments including Command and General Staff School, Force Development in the Pentagon (obtaining a master’s degree in systems management while there), Physical Education Instructor at West Point, Commander of an Air Cavalry Squadron at Ft. Bragg and Recruiting Duty in WVA. He was then offered an assignment in Germany but because of his family needs decided to retire and take a position with Morehead High School as ROTC Commander, and where he later became Athletic Director. He retired a second time after serving as principal at Holmes Middle School.
Adkins appreciates every day and is proud of his career as a soldier. It helps put life in perspective for him. In Vietnam, every decision he made caused someone to live or die. He vowed never to let life’s small problems disturb him. In comparison to combat, all other problems he has faced since then have been small ones
Lieutenant Colonel Adkins flew 750 combat missions, earned the Silver Star, Distinguished Flying Cross, and 30 Air Medals, one for valor, among other medals. All the awards commended Adkins bravery and valor under fire. He still serves his community in significant ways and continues an active life. He and wife Jane also enjoy being with their six children and their families, including seven grandchildren.
Barbee, Ann Collins
The air raid sirens began wailing at 11 pm. The German Luftwaffe bombers arrived on their nightly schedule while young Ann Mooney was running home from a dance. She saw neighbors running to air raid shelters in heavy coats with nightclothes underneath. She knew her mother would be upset because she was not home yet but that did not bother Ann much. Attending a dance was more important than a few German bombers and she did not like air raid shelters. War was not very real to her, yet!
Ann Barbee was born in Dundee north of Edinburgh, Scotland. Her family is part of the Fraser clan. Before being drafted by the Royal Air Force, Ann had never been more than fifty miles from her home. Loving parents sheltered her life. Her mother even spared her some of the normal chores such as doing dishes after the family meal. Her two older brothers did most of the chores.
She attended St. Mary’s catholic school in Dundee, graduating from high school at age sixteen. There were few jobs available for young girls but her skill at sewing led her to a five-year apprenticeship in tailoring. It was enjoyable work to her and she was paid $1.50 per week while being trained. Her pay increased as she learned and her expenses where minimal since she was living at home.
Barbee remembers well the Sunday, September 3, 1939, speech when she heard Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain speak on the radio to announce the sad news that England was at war with Germany. She remembers her mother crying in fear that her two sons would have to go off to war. Nightly blackouts started immediately in Dundee and all the British Isles to avoid giving the Germans easy bombing targets.
Barbee’s two brothers did go to war but the family never thought that daughter Ann would have to go too. Barbee continued her work at the tailor shop and in 1940, the company she worked for began making covers for gas masks from a heavy fabric. Citizens on the British Isles had to always carry a gas mask with them.
Bombings were intense in England after the war started, especially in London. Bombing started in Scotland in 1941 as Barbee recalls. She remembers that bombing was relatively light but typically started at 11 pm. It was particularly worrisome during summer because Scotland is so far north, there was enough light at midnight to allow German bombers to see their targets.
Life did go on for a young girl full of energy and Barbee loved to dance. She would attend dances beginning at 8 pm in a local hall but made sure she was on her way home when they ended at 11 pm or earlier. She would hear the air raid sirens going off and see neighbors running to the air raid shelters. There were aircraft flying overhead and in one case, a German plane machine-gunned a neighbor’s house for no apparent reason. Not everyone went to an air raid shelter. Most shelters were above ground and primarily made of concrete blocks. People sat on hard benches until all clear sounded. Some shelters collapsed from bombs landing nearby and temporarily trapped the people inside. It could be dangerous inside, or outside, an air raid shelter.
There was little damage around Dundee because no vital industry was there. Barbee remembers seeing the “Pathe-Gazette” newsreels at the movies and the terrible devastation in Germany due to Allied bombing campaigns. She thought to herself “this could never happen in Dundee”.
Rationing started about this time. Everyone received a ration book; even babies. Meat was in short supply and butcher shops were only open one or two days a week. Sugar was used in ammunition so that was very scarce. Worst of all, tea was in short supply. Used tea bags were the norm in most households. One egg per person was allowed every six weeks. Gasoline supply was not a problem as it was in the United States because few people had automobiles in Dundee. Most people rode bicycles, walked, or took the bus.
It soon became obvious that all the young men in town were gone to the service. Most of them went early to the African campaign against General Erwin Rommel and his tanks. There were primarily women and older folks around town. One day, Barbee got the shock of her life when she received a draft notice. Her employer told the draft board that he needed her in defense work and Barbee was deferred three times. The fourth time, the request was denied because military personnel needs were so critical that Barbee had to go. In September 1942, Barbee was given no choice and drafted into the Royal Air Force. She could have been drafted into the Army, Navy, or the “Land Army” which was essentially work on a farm. In any case, Barbee was devastated. She thought Britain had lost the war if she were needed in the military!
Her basic training at a station near Andover, Scotland was a rude awakening to wartime training. After her physical, she went down a line of corpsmen who gave her countless shots in both arms. She was given uniforms in the traditional RAF blue color and a hard straw pillow along with her blankets and sheets. She ran – she did pushups – and marched – and marched. Barbee evolved into excellent physical condition but could not believe she was in the service.
Her aptitude test indicated she would have talent as an armorer or a flight mechanic. She received some advice indicating she should opt for the armorer job as a flight mechanic would have to be available all hours of the day or night repairing aircraft and she would not have a life. Barbee got the armorer job and was transferred to Tealing Air Base only eight miles from her home in Dundee. She was able to commute to work by bicycle.
Tealing was a training base for Spitfire fighter pilots. Barbee’s job was to clean the machine guns after the pilots returned from their training flights. This involved taking guns from the planes, taking them apart and using emery cloth to clean off any rust; then using an anti-freeze solution to clean every bit of residue from the guns so they sparkled when she finished. Barbee did not do dishes at home but here she was with her hands in anti-freeze and using emery cloth on machine guns. In her words, “It was a mess.” In the morning, she remounted the guns in the Spitfires and fired a burst to be sure they were firing properly. Fortunately, her physical strength gained in basic training allowed her to handle heavy guns without too much strain. After a year, Barbee was transferred to Leuchers Air Base in Scotland.
Leuchers was Barbee’s taste of the real war. This was also near Dundee, but she had to live on the base because of the demands of her work. Instead of training flights, Leuchers was a bomber base supporting the Wellington and Lancaster four engine bombers. She was loading machine guns for gunners who fired from waist positions and turrets on the bombers. Each day she received orders designed for the mission of the day. Depending on the mission, its target, and likely opposition she loaded appropriate belts of ammunition. If there was a long mission, there would be less ammunition to make room for more fuel. Typically, Barbee would load the ammunition belt with standard shells, and then every fifth would be a tracer so the gunner could see the projectile path. If appropriate, incendiary shells would be loaded in the belt.
There were Australian, Polish, French, New Zealanders, and Czech crews at Leuchers so it was a broadening experience to get to know people of so many different nationalities. Her work was just as dirty and demanding, only there was a new element; it was personal. She knew the guns being cleaned and armed were going to be used against the enemy in the air war. As the bombers took off on a mission, Barbee knew who was on the planes and knew they were flying into harm’s way. When the planes were due back, people on the base would gather watching to count the planes as they returned. Frequently, planes did not come back, and this was very distressful for Barbee.
After several months as an armorer at Leuchers, an opening came up in the tailor shop on base for which she qualified. She took a crash course in military tailoring and began work. At that time, Boyce Barbee, her future husband, was flying out of Leuchers on top-secret missions.
One day, Boyce Barbee came into the shop for some tailoring work. They began seeing each other regularly and “love bloomed”. Boyce Barbee was going to be sent back to the states and time was short to get married. Normally, the “Banns of marriage” had to be published by law. This was a three-week period where anyone could object to a marriage for cause. Due to the circumstances, a license was issued quickly. Boyce and Ann were married but Boyce was going back to the states! As the war wound down Ann Barbee was anxious to get out and begin her new life as Boyce Barbee’s wife.
Barbee was released from the Royal Air force in October 1945. When she boarded the vessel for America, it was to be a nine-day trip with 900 other British war brides and about 300 children. Ann Barbee was the first down the gangplank in New York. Boyce Barbee was there and jumped over the restraining gate to take his bride in his arms for a welcoming embrace. The rest is history.
In 1994, the Barbee’s made a visit to Leuchers Air Base. When the commanding officer heard their background of service on the base, they were treated like royalty and given a grand tour of the base seeing some of the old buildings that held many memories for them.
The Barbee’s have lived and been retired in Rockingham County for many years but also enjoy time at Oak Island, NC. Barbee is retired from the teaching profession and has raised purebred dogs as a hobby. On her time in the service, Barbee remarks, “My time in the service changed my whole life because I married an American and became a citizen of the United States. I have tried diligently to be a model citizen and good example, particularly to young people that I taught”.
The marriage of Boyce and Ann Barbee produced a son, a daughter, and one grandchild. Ann and Boyce continue to lead active lives.
Barbee, Boyce B.
After Boyce Barbee completed his 25th combat mission in a B-24 Liberator bomber, his military career would take a most unusual turn. He became involved in a top secret “airline” that delivered men and information to and from the Soviet Union via Sweden. His aircraft also brought aircrews back to fight again after forced landing in Sweden due to lack of fuel or aircraft malfunction. If the unmarked and defenseless B-24 on which he was a crewmember had been shot down, the outside world would not be given any facts and if captured, he would have been shot as a spy because he carried no identification and was dressed in civilian clothes.
Barbee was born in Concord NC and graduated from Stoney Point high school, near Taylorsville. His father was a disabled WW I veteran who had been wounded and gassed. Through his father’s condition, Barbee became familiar with the aftermath of combat at an early age. After high school graduation, Barbee worked in a textile mill until drafted October 24, 1942. He was sent to Statesville for testing but did not leave Fort Bragg for indoctrination until November 11.
He did well on a test for “code work” and was assigned to the Army Air Force base in Atlantic City for basic training. Barbee went on to Scott Field IL for five months, studying Morse code and communication skills in preparation for his work as radioman on a bomber.
After radio school, he went to Harlingen, TX to air gunnery school. The training included shooting at target sleeves towed by a tow plane. He found out quickly that you had better not put a bullet hole in the towplane, or you would wash out immediately. Barbee passed with flying colors. Upon completion of the course in early 1943, he was promoted to sergeant and sent to Tucson AZ for assignment to a bomber crew as a radio operator. With Lt. Carnine as pilot, the crew flew day and night in preparation for combat – then on to Lincoln NB for assignment overseas.
At Lincoln NB, his crew was assigned as a replacement crew for those planes and crews lost in combat. Soon his crew was flown to North Africa, but still without their own plane. After a short time, his crew returned to England and joined the 392nd Bomb Group, flying some missions in other crew’s planes.
Lt. Carnine learned of a B-24 that had run out of fuel and landed in a nearby field. It was to be dismantled for parts because it was thought there was no room to take off from the field. Carnine said, “Let me see it!” Regulations required at least a pilot and radioman to be aboard any airborne B-24. Carnine and Barbee went to the field, had some minimum amount of fuel added to the tanks, all extraneous material removed, climbed in, ran up the engines to full power until the braked wheels slid on the ground. Carnine released brakes and took off, pulling up sharply to clear an apartment building at the end of the field, almost stalling, and then leveling off. Carnine had his B-24 – with just a little fuselage damage from the forced landing but with a shaken pilot and radioman on board.
The combat routine began – thirteen missions in thirty-seven days. In one instance, Captain Jimmy Stewart, the Hollywood actor, was the lead pilot of a bombing mission. On most missions, the bomb groups had to fight their way into, and out from, the target. It was too early in the war for long-range fighter escort to be available. It was bombers against fighters! Flak and German fighters were in abundance. The Germans also used a technique of dropping steel cables from fighter planes to drag through the bomber formations and this was effective in entangling and bringing down many of our aircraft. During Barbee’s tour of 25 combat missions in the worst air combat period of the war, over 700 crewmembers and about 70 aircraft were lost from his base alone.
Barbee’s station was his radioman desk in the bomber. On one high altitude mission, it was 50 degrees below zero in the plane. Barbee’s right electrically heated glove and his facemask shorted out as he was in process of decoding a message from Bomber Command. He lost consciousness and fell from his seat. The flight engineer noticed it and put another facemask on Barbee so he could breathe. It saved Barbee’s life and the lives of many of the crews as the message Barbee decoded instructed the Bomb Group to turn back immediately because jet stream wind changes would prevent them from making it back to base if they continued the mission.
Upon return from another mission, Barbee’s plane was very low on fuel. Just as Lt. Carnine noticed a fighter strip under construction as a possible landing spot, all engines quit! He landed with little room to spare. As the crew got out of their plane, a P-47 fighter, also low on fuel, landed. The fighter pilot said to Lt. Carnine, “I did not think I could land here but if a B-24 can land, I knew I could”.
Flight plans for bombing missions were designed to avoid flak where possible. However, as the Germans moved their antiaircraft guns on railcars from place to place, flak was difficult to avoid. On the “bomb run”, the bombers were sitting ducks for flak, and many planes were lost during this phase of a bombing mission.
One of Barbee’s duties was to see that all bombs had dropped, and the bomb bay was clear after the bomb run before closing the bomb bay doors. In one case, Barbee did not notice that one 500-pound bomb did not drop but was hanging precariously in the bomb bay. Barbee signaled the bombardier to close the bomb bay doors. After closing the doors, the bomb dropped. It went through the bomb bay door and fortunately did not hit any aircraft below Barbee’s plane. If the bomb had stayed in the bomb bay, it would certainly have exploded upon landing, with disastrous consequences.
A most unusual event happened on Barbee’s 25th and final bombing mission. Upon nearing the coast of France, just before crossing the English Channel, the tail gunner said, “There is a strange B-24 pulling up behind us. Their life vests are not like ours and it just does not look right.” Carnine told the tail, top turret, and ball turret gunner “Train your guns on the pilot of that plane and if there is one false move, blow that plane out of the sky”. As Barbee’s plane reached the English Channel, the B-24 turned back. It was Germans operating a captured B-24 with the intent of getting into our formation and shooting down our planes from the rear. This tactic of the Germans worked many times.
In March 1944, Barbee could not go home yet although he had completed his 25 missions. He was asked to report to his Commanding Officer who told him to pack up and leave the base in two hours for a top-secret assignment. He was given authority to obtain two sets of civilian clothes at Harrods Department Store in London. He had earlier received a letter from his mother asking what he had done as the FBI had been asking questions about him in his hometown. Barbee was then sent to Leuchers RAF base, Scotland where incidentally, he met his wife to be – Ann. His new commanding officer was Colonel Bernt Balchen, a world-famous arctic explorer who had accompanied Admiral Byrd on Arctic Expeditions and was the first pilot to land a plane in the Arctic.
A secret “airline”, under the command of Balchen and the auspices of the Office of Strategic Services, was being formed to carry men and information to and from Sweden in collaboration with the Russians. The airline, flying war weary, unmarked, unarmed, B-24s, only flew in bad weather so the Germans would not see them. The plane was configured to hold as many as 30 passengers lined up on the sidewalls of the aircraft. Barbee was issued a Russian visa, just in case he had need of it. Officially, the airline did not exist. Most of the people the airline carried were unknown to Barbee but there were some high-profile persons occasionally, including Count Bernadotte from Sweden. While in Stockholm, it was common to be seated near German or Japanese patrons in a restaurant or hotel – probably on secret missions themselves. Stockholm was an international hotbed of spies. Barbee also experienced his hotel room having been searched for by people unknown while out for dinner.
After the war ended in Europe, the airline was disbanded. Barbee was then involved in ferrying Navy crews to Germany to operate captured German naval vessels. The Potsdam conference with President Truman, Prime Minister Churchill, and Russian leader, Joseph Stalin, was about to take place and Barbee was notified to be available to accompany President Truman’s entourage if a flight to Moscow was necessary. Barbee was involved because he was the only radioman stationed in Europe with a Top-Secret clearance AND Russian visa, plus he was good at his job. The trip to Moscow did not take place.
Barbee married Ann and was transferred to the US for discharge, but Ann had to do a lot of paperwork to get here. Finally, she arrived in the US in March 1946 – one of thousands of “war brides”. When she arrived in New York by ship Boyce Barbee was there to meet her and jumped over the restraining fence to reach her as soon as he saw her come down the gangplank. This was a great reunion and the end to his WW II odyssey.
Barbee commented that his WW II experience showed him one person could make a difference even though part of a huge endeavor. He has particularly high respect for the British Royal Air Force pilots who were outnumbered and out manned yet won a great victory in the Battle of Britain in 1940. The memory of many friends lost in combat is a burden he still carries.
Boyce and Ann Barbee have one son, one daughter, and one grandson. He and Ann enjoy their family, time at the beach and still lead active lives.
Barham, Joseph L.
There was an important man aboard the aircraft parked on an outlying portion of the Cairo, Egypt air base where Joe Barham was stationed. His identity was a secret but later revealed as Franklin D. Roosevelt, the President of the United States. President Roosevelt was on his way to attend the Teheran conference, an historic meeting with Winston Churchill and Joseph Stalin to chart the course of the war. Joe Barham got close enough to take a picture of the aircraft that brought Roosevelt to the meeting of the “Big Three” allied powers.
Barham was born in Spray NC and grew up during the Depression. He attended Leaksville High School but had to drop out at age 15 to go to work. He worked at Marshall Field & Co. in the Blanket Finishing Mill until he was drafted into military service in August 1941. Barham was not enthusiastic about the Army and because of his interest in airplanes, he and four friends volunteered for the Army Air Corps. After joining, he was sent to Camp Lee VA on a very crowded troop train – then on to Jefferson Barracks MO three days later. This is where he received rigorous basic training with close order drill, kitchen police duty (KP), physical training, marching, training films, frequent inspections and harassment from his drill sergeant. One evening while in basic training, Barham was ordered to guard a pile of coal. A skunk happened to come along, and it wet him thoroughly. The odor was terrible and could not be removed so his clothes were burned and a new set issued promptly.
After eight weeks of basic training, Barham was assigned to Cochran Field near Macon GA for eight weeks of training as an aircraft mechanic. Barham wanted to learn to fly and requested flight training. As pilots were in short supply, he was given the opportunity. The instructor took him up in a BT-13 trainer and after a few aerobatics, was successful in making Barham sick to his stomach. This experience ended Barham’s interest in becoming a pilot. His aircraft mechanic ability was very good and after graduation from mechanical school, Barham was promoted to corporal and made crew chief on a BT-13 trainer at Cochran Field.
On December 7, 1941, while Barham was at Cochran Field, the Japanese made the sneak attack on Pearl Harbor Naval Base in Hawaii. Everyone on Cochran Field wanted to contact his or her families. Because there were few pay phones on the base, lines of men and women stretched for ¼ mile. It took hours for Barham to reach a pay phone to call his family. The news of the attack disturbed him as it would anyone, but Barham knew he had a job to do and he would do it.
After 14 months at Cochran Field, he was transferred to Warner Robbins Air base as a fuel truck driver. There was an auxiliary field at Waycross GA and Barham had to drive from Warner Robbins to Waycross regularly. On one evening trip, he was crossing a bridge and a city bus started across the bridge after Barham was on the bridge. There was no room for both vehicles and the sparks flew as the two scrapped each other and the tanker was in danger of leaking and exploding. An accompanying safety truck foamed down the bus and tanker and, along with the noise and commotion, scared the wits out of the bus passengers. That was the only problem Barham ever had while driving a tanker truck.
In September of 1943, Barham was transferred to Link Trainer School. A Link Trainer was a device used to train pilots safely under simulated instrument flying conditions. Oddly enough, it was invented by a pipe organ maker who used his knowledge of pumps and bellows to create this aviation-training device. After Barham was trained, he was put in charge of one of the Link trainers. He enjoyed putting pilots through the paces under simulated adverse flying conditions. However, this did not satisfy Barham for long and he wanted to get back doing flight line mechanical work – keeping the planes flying – as he originally had been trained to do. It was in 1943 that he married his girlfriend, Pauline.
In late 1943, he saw a bulletin asking volunteers to go to Seymour Johnson Air Base in North Carolina for work as flight line mechanics. This was close to home and his new wife, so Barham volunteered. He was transferred and upon arrival at Seymour Johnson was promptly put in the kitchen as a cook. Barham had trouble understanding that assignment. After complaining, he was assigned to the flight line, where he wanted to be.
One day while another mechanic was warming up the engine on a P-40 Warhawk, the propeller came off and careened across the field. It tore through a hanger wall, missing about 20 men on the way and continued tearing through the other side of the hanger before coming to rest. The noise was so great that others heard the propeller hit the hanger and thought the air base was under attack. On another occasion, Barham was warming up a P-47 Thunderbolt fighter plane. It was hard to start and caught on fire. Barham knew he had little chance of getting out of the plane alive. He kept grinding the starter hoping to get the engine started and blow the fire out. Fortunately, the engine started, and the fire was blown out by the rush of wind from the turning propeller -a narrow escape indeed!
In the fall of 1944, Barham learned there was a squadron being formed flying C-46 transport planes over the “hump” (Himalayan Mountains) in Burma, carrying supplies to China. The squadron would be based in Egypt and fly to Karachi, India, on to Burma and to China. It was a long supply line, but it worked. Within several days, he was in New York ready to sail to Egypt in a 36-ship convoy. Guns, boats, airplanes and supplies were lashed to the decks of the transport. Upon arrival at Port Said, Egypt, the material and planes were transferred to John Payne Field near Cairo. John Payne was the name of a pilot who led the first attack of a bomber group from Africa against the Italian fleet. He was later killed in action. Barham remembers the orders of his commanding officer when his unit arrived. He said,” Don’t eat the food, don’t drink the water and don’t touch the women”. If any one of our troops made a pass at a Muslim woman, he would be marked for death. The food and water were full of organisms causing amoebic dysentery. That could kill you too!
At John Payne Field, Barham had a permanent Quonset hut to live in, but the temperature rarely got below 125 degrees during the day and frequently dropped to freezing at night. Life in Egypt was very trying with the weather and poor working conditions. There were movies in the evening and occasionally a USO celebrity show would come through. Barham remembers Jack Benny, Clark Gable and Tennessee Ernie Ford as some of the entertainers.
Sandstorms were frequent and blinding. Sometimes you could only see a few feet ahead and sand was everywhere – in your clothes, hair and living space. Fortunately, the cooks kept it out of the food. During a sandstorm, uncomfortable gas masks were worn to be able to breathe. Barham’s time was spent repairing battle-damaged aircraft. Barham was also the squadron barber after finding he had a knack for that. The British had an air base near John Payne Field and Barham was impressed with the fact that British troops always stopped work for a spot of tea at certain times in the day no matter what was happening.
When Roosevelt visited Cairo, he made King Farouk of Egypt a gift of a C-47 transport for his personal use. Barham was assigned as a mechanic on that plane, and he came in frequent incidental contact with King Farouk, who knew Barham by name. King Farouk wanted his mechanics to ride in the plane with him when he went on a trip. These trips were mostly to Alexandria or Luxor, Egypt to visit government officials. While on King Farouk’s aircrew, Barham had the opportunity to visit many of the sights in Egypt and surrounding countries, including Palestine (this was before Israel was created in 1948). Barham was probably one of the first US citizens to go rabbit hunting in Palestine. He saw the Sphinx, King Tut’s artifacts and climbed the Egyptian pyramids. He visited the Valley of the Kings and saw tomb artifacts of the ancient Kings of Egypt. He enjoyed a wonderful learning experience as one of King Farouk’s aircrew men.
On May 8, 1945, the war in Europe was over and of course, this was cause for joyful celebration. There was only warm beer on the base so CO2 from the fire extinguishers was used to cool 00000 enough “points”, in a few months Barham was on his way home. His ship took him to Norfolk, and he caught a train to Fort Bragg for discharge September 13, 1945. His wife Pauline and a 12-month-old daughter he had not seen yet were eagerly awaiting him at home.
Barham returned to work at Marshall Field and Company, but poor economic conditions caused a layoff, and he found work at A&P Tea Co in the produce department. He worked for 22 years for A&P and after his retirement in 1975, worked at Fieldcrest Mills in the Security Department for 25 years, retiring in 2000.
He is convinced that America is the greatest country on earth and is pleased he had an opportunity to help protect it. World War II took a sheltered young person who had never been anywhere to speak of and sent him halfway around the world, molding him into a man in the process.
Barham has two sons and one daughter. He and his wife also enjoy their six grandchildren and two great grandchildren.
Baumgardner, Sterling
As a young man, Sterling Baumgardner sang in a southern gospel quartet with his brothers. During his senior year at Greenville TX high school, he and his brothers were enticed to move to Siloam Springs, Arkansas to perform on a radio program – all living expenses paid. He did not make much money but finished high school there and enjoyed the experience. Upon graduating in 1939, he moved to Lawrenceburg IN to attend music school. However, his older brother left the quartet, causing Baumgardner to lose interest in pursuing a music career. He returned to Greenville to work in his father’s grocery store.
It was required that men Baumgardner’s age register for the draft. After registering, he quickly was drafted into military service on February 16, 1941. He was assigned to a National Guard unit from Greenville and sent to Camp Bowie, Brownwood TX for heavy weapons training. Baumgardner was destined to be a machine gunner at that point.
In the summer of 1941, his unit went on maneuvers in Louisiana. Baumgardner weighed 125 pounds. At the end of the two-month maneuvers, he weighed 150 pounds. Most men lost weight. His training at Camp Bowie continued and while home on leave December 7, 1941, after a singing performance, his brother shared the news he heard that Pearl Harbor had been attacked. Baumgardner was recalled to Camp Bowie and felt he would never see his home again. On Tuesday, December 9, he received orders to leave by troop train to the west coast. He arrived at Fort Lewis, Washington and his unit was immediately assigned to help guard the West Coast from an expected attack by Japan. He drove a truck carrying machine guns, up and down the coast as far as San Francisco. He stayed overnight in Civilian Conservation Corps buildings and at County fairgrounds. Baumgardner was on this type of guard duty until January 1942 when he applied to the Air Corps for flight training. He had aspired to be a pilot for as long as he could remember. His application was accepted, and he passed the physical but did not pass the written test. In June 1942, he took the test again and passed the written test but did not pass the physical. He failed because he told the interviewer of an accident he had had years before which caused him to be unconscious for five days: automatic disqualification.
In January 1943, Baumgardner was transferred to Hialeah, Florida for guard duty on the East Coast like his West Coast duty. He again applied for flight training and this time he passed both the physical and written test. The interviewers did not ask about accidents. In August 1943, he was assigned to Peabody College in Nashville TN for one semester of training and passed the aptitude tests for pilot, navigator and bombardier. He learned that there was to be a cut back in pilot training and those on pilot track would go into the infantry. Baumgardner elected to go into navigation and felt confident he would continue in the Air Corps. He continued on to Pre-Flight training in Montgomery AL but only completed half the course. The need for navigators was so great that all students with a 90 or above average were immediately sent to advanced navigation school in Coral Gables FL. He graduated in Florida and received his Navigator wings July 4, 1944.
The crew was formed and assigned to Rapid City SD. It was thrilling to be assigned to further training on a B-17 Flying Fortress. Baumgardner was very comfortable in his navigator work and was highly regarded in his unit.
In a B-17, the navigator sits at a desk directly below the pilot, next to the bombardier. It is vital that the navigator has the precise time shown on his watch to do navigation work in coordination with navigators on other aircraft. Being just a few seconds off could mean a mid-air collision. Baumgardner carried a 45-caliber pistol, wore an electrically heated flying suit, boots, gloves as well as oxygen mask and steel helmet in addition to regular clothing. While at high altitude in the unheated plane, he was tethered to an electrical cord and oxygen tube for survival at 45 degrees below zero centigrade. He was also the “recorder” for significant events aboard the aircraft. For example, the navigator records when engines were started, when roll out for takeoff begins, unusual observations while in flight and when bombs are dropped. He is also responsible for firing a nose gun under combat conditions.
His crew went to Lincoln NB to pick up a new B-17 and immediately headed for the east coast and then on to Scotland. The crew left the B-17 in Scotland and traveled to Podington, England as their permanent base assignment. There were so many temporary airbases in England it was easy to mistakenly land at the wrong base. His crew was assigned another plane and Baumgardner flew his first mission on November 9, 1944, to Metz, Germany. The typical mission was assigned the night before on the bulletin board. Wakeup call was at two or three a.m. depending on the length of the mission with breakfast following. The briefing was in a large room with a map behind a curtain. The curtain would be drawn back and the crews would be told the target for that day, the route, expected opposition, weather, bomb load and reason for the mission. Pilots, navigators and enlisted crew members would then break out to individual sessions relating to their specialties.
After a quick trip in a jeep to the aircraft and a review of checklists, the plane was ready for takeoff. Usually, 36 aircraft were in a group, taking off at 30-second intervals. They joined up with aircraft from other bases to form the “bomber train” to the target. This was a highly orchestrated production, and a timing mistake could spell disaster in the air.
Baumgardner’s 92nd Bomb Group was the first to drop the “Disney Bomb” (as in Walt Disney), a bomb we would call “high tech” today. His aircraft carried two of the 4,500-pound bombs. They were dropped from high altitude and designed to penetrate 20 to 30 feet of concrete, primarily on submarine pens. Upon falling to 5,000 feet, an attached rocket motor fired and increased the velocity to 2,400 feet per second. When they hit, concrete would erupt in all directions.
After dropping bombs, the Bomb Group would fly back in formation, land, and then report for debriefing. In poor visibility, the aircraft would fly back to base very low, under the weather. Baumgardner recollects one time when his pilot said half-jokingly over the intercom, “Convoy, 12 o’clock high”. The plane was so low it had to climb to miss the masts of the ships in the convoy.
After landing, a shot of whisky was provided in the debriefing room for crewmembers to calm their nerves. Those who did not drink would usually give their ration of liquor to those who did. Baumgardner’s job required him to keep good records of everything that merited reporting to the debriefing personnel. For example, any planes shot down, enemy troop activity and high concentrations of anti-aircraft fire.
Flying through heavy flak on the bomb run is a memory, which even today, gives Baumgardner flashbacks to the danger he faced in those days. He remembers the “bam” sound that flak made when it penetrated the fuselage. He also remembers the day a group of bombers, out of position overhead, almost dropped their full load of bombs on his bomb group. Quick action on his pilot’s part to get out of the way saved many lives that day. On another occasion, a shell hit a steel structural member in the nose of his B-17 and caused the flak to be directed away from the plane. A hit two or three feet away on the fuselage would have destroyed Baumgardner’s B-17. He saw many of his friends go down. He watched for their parachutes and prayed for their safety as they fell.
Baumgardner’s last flight was March 24, 1945; his 31st mission – he was going home! He wrote three letters that day, one to his mother and dad and letters to two friends. Unfortunately, one of his dear friends had already died during the invasion of Iwo Jima. Baumgardner expected to be assigned to a B-29 bomber in the Far East to fly bombing missions against the Japanese. He was assigned as train commander on a troop train to California. He learned that victory was declared in Europe while on the train. There was a major celebration that night. When Baumgardner arrived in Santa Ana, California, he started to have nightmares about his bombing missions. They subsided but came back many, many years later on a vacation trip to Germany.
Baumgardner was sent back to Love field in Dallas for further training to be a navigator on long distance transport flights. On the way, he learned about the victory over Japan. Baumgardner wanted to stay in the service and become a pilot but some administrative problems prevented that. If he stayed in as an officer he would have had to sign up for a longer term of service, Baumgardner elected to revert to enlisted status and stay in only 20 years rather than committing to a longer term of service. He was given the rank of Senior Master Sergeant with a rating of “enlisted navigator.” When in an aircraft, he did the same job he had done in combat in Europe. His ground job eventually involved machine accounting systems in the early years of those systems.
Baumgardner says he made some poor investment decisions long ago and decided to learn more about investing and he became quite good at it. When he retired in 1961, he went into the investment business full time, eventually moving to Reidsville, Ann’s hometown. He presently has investment clients around the world, served from his Reidsville home.
Baumgardner has four daughters, seven grandchildren and two great grandchildren that he and Ann enjoy. His children live across the country and traveling to see them is one of Baumgardner’s pleasures.
Baumgardner’s World War II experience made him a more disciplined person who appreciates life and the great sacrifices made by young men and women who go to war.
Brown, Robert
IN HIS OWN WORDS
On bombing missions: I do not know how I survived. The 100th bomb group was a very specific target of the Germans. The first four or five missions were exciting but then the fear set in. It was very unnerving knowing someone was shooting to kill me.
On the B-17 “All American Girl”: She was weary but just felt good in the air. Solid and safe like a good automobile. She had a lot of holes patched but brought me back safely every time.
On being a tail gunner: I had a great view, but it was very tight and I was very exposed back there.
On the Bloody Hundredth: It was well named. We spilled too much blood due to loss of crews in combat.
On P-51 fighters: When the P-51s got drop tanks for extra fuel and could accompany us, we felt a lot safer.
On D-Day: We knew it would happen but did not know when. Before we left, our colonel said, “Good luck and God bless you”. The view I had that day would live in my memory forever. A thousand ships spread as far as I could see.
On his service: If I had to do it all over again, I would.
The first time Bob Brown saw his father cry was when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. Brown’s father had fought in WWI and had been gassed as well as seriously wounded. His two sons were of draft age and he knew they would be involved in war as he had been some 23 years earlier.
Bob Brown, however, was excited and ready to go to war. Brown turned 19 shortly after Pearl Harbor occurred and had a good job at Fieldcrest Mills but wanted to get into the defense industry. After registering for the draft in Leaksville, he went to Baltimore to work for the Glenn L. Martin company building airplanes. Feeling he was about to be drafted, Brown came back to Leaksville in early 1943 and enlisted in the Army.
While in basic training at Camp Croft, South Carolina, Brown decided he would rather be in the Air Corps and a corporal friend in the personnel office changed the records so Brown would be assigned to the Air Corps. It was not questioned and Brown quickly found himself in the Air Corps just as he desired.
After further training in gunnery and aircraft maintenance in various locations, Salt Lake City was the next stop where the ten member crews for B-17s were made up for assignment overseas. The crews were sent to Camp Kilmer, New Jersey to be assigned to a troop ship for the voyage to England. By this time, Brown had been promoted to sergeant and earned $46 per month; a far cry from the $21 per month a private earned.
In England, Brown’s crew was part of a replacement pool, which meant they would be assigned to a squadron that had lost a crew for some reason and needed replacements for combat duty. His crew was eventually assigned to the Bomb Group known as the Bloody Hundredth (100th Bomb Group). It was called the Bloody Hundredth because the German fighter pilots were determined to decimate the Bomb Group due to a German pilot having been shot down by a 100th Bomb Group B-17 bomber after he had lowered his wheels indicating surrender. As it happened, during a period of 2 years the Bloody Hundredth lost 177 aircraft to enemy fire and another 53 due to mechanical problems on combat missions.
Brown’s first combat mission was on June 6, 1944, which was D-Day. He learned about his mission at 10 p.m. on June 5. He did not sleep well and was awakened at 2:30 a.m. for the mission with a briefing at 4 a.m. and takeoff shortly thereafter. After takeoff, part of his duty, from his tail gunner position, was to use a flashing light to signal other bombers to form up behind his plane. There were hundreds of aircraft in the air and it was very confusing, especially in dawn’s early light.
His war weary B-17 bomber, “All American Girl” was assigned with other bombers to a tactical bombing mission in support of the troops that landed on the beaches. Brown’s view was magnificent from his tail gunner position as he flew over the English Channel. Brown says “it will live in my memory forever. There were a thousand vessels from battleships on down.”
While on bombing missions at high altitudes, Brown wore a heavy knit cap, long underwear, electrically heated boots, and suit with a fatigue uniform over that and lastly a sheepskin jacket. Electrically heated gloves were also issued and if these were lost or fell off for some reason, fingers could be lost due to frostbite. An oxygen mask was used at altitudes over 12,000 feet, tethered to an oxygen valve at the tail gunner position. Brown also carried a Colt 45 and a combat knife. With all this equipment Brown had to crawl to the tail gunner position and sit on a seat much like a bicycle seat. Once in combat Brown also had a flak jacket to wear and a steel helmet. There was nothing to lean back on so all missions were very fatiguing in very tight quarters. Protecting him were a 2-inch-thick Plexiglas windshield to the rear of the bomber and 1 inch Plexiglas on both sides of the tail gunner position, near his head. Facing out the back of the airplane were two 50 caliber machine guns, with ammunition cases holding 1000 rounds of ammunition next to Brown. During the maximum effort missions, sometimes ammunition was in short supply and Brown only had about 200 rounds of ammunition for the guns.
Brown flew 16 missions as a tail gunner over Europe and five more as a toggler (similar to bombardier). His job was to drop bombs on signals from the lead aircraft. Fighters were not seen very often due to shortages of planes, pilots, and fuel in Germany. However, flak was very heavy and took a terrible toll on the bombers. Brown says, “It was very unnerving to know someone was shooting to kill me. We did not shoot at many fighters but did dodge a lot of flak.”
On one mission, an enemy plane approached from the side and was firing directly at the tail gun position. Brown leaned back and a bullet hit where his head would have been. He missed death by an inch or less. One of his superiors said the only reason Brown was alive had to be because he had abandoned his tail gunner position under combat and should be courts martialed. In other words, because he was not dead, he should be punished. Witnesses supported the fact that he had not abandoned his position, so the courts martial never happened.
On one occasion, while on the way back to England after a bombing mission, a B-24 heavy bomber named Cabin in the Sky slid in formation behind Brown’s plane. When flak came up, the plane flew away but came back when the flak stopped. The next day, crews were informed that Cabin in the Sky was flown by a German crew and should be shot down. Typically, such an aircraft would shoot down planes from the rear knowing it would not be chased due to low fuel on the returning bombers.
All American Girl flew 99 missions, one of the longest service records during the war. She was finally shot down on her 99th mission with a new crew aboard and with loss of all lives.
Due to illness in the family, Brown was allowed to come back to the United States in December of 1944 to further duty in aircraft maintenance in Illinois and Virginia. Brown had enough points to get out of the Air Corps in November 1945 and returned to Leaksville. He began work as an aircraft mechanic on the following Monday after returning home. Brown’s career was primarily in machine shop management until retirement in 1986. He remained with the Air Force reserve for 18 1/2 years retiring as Master Sergeant. He is married to Edna, and both are deceased now.
In 1982, Brown was reading an aircraft magazine, and he noticed an ad for a print showing planes from the 100th bomb group on a mission, painted by well-known aircraft artist Keith Ferris. Brown ordered the print and when he received it, to his surprise, Brown saw the print featured All American Girl, the plane that he had flown in for 20 missions. That print was proudly displayed in Brown’s home and is shown in the picture included with this article.
Concluding his thoughts about World War II, Brown says if he had to do it over again he would. He was proud to be part of the effort to save our world from tyranny.
Burton, Jesse
June 6, 1944. It was D-Day! The Allies were attacking “Fortress Europe” with 3,000 landing craft, 3,000 naval ships for bombardment and miscellaneous support, and thousands of aircraft to suppress German resistance to the landings. Early in the morning on D-Day, transports pulled gliders carrying paratroopers who had specific missions in advance of the regular assault troops. Jesse Burton, a waist gunner on a B-24 Liberator bomber, was with the 44th bomb group which was assigned the mission of dropping bombs on a key target 15 minutes before US troops were to land on Utah and Omaha beaches. Burton was part of the largest invasion in history.
War was the farthest thing from Burton’s mind while attending one room Mount Hermon School in Rockingham County. Burton’s mother was his teacher. He continued to Wentworth Consolidated School, graduating from High School in 1932. Burton’s first love was baseball; playing first base on his high school team.
He decided to attend King’s Business College in Greensboro while also working at a tobacco crop in Rockingham County. In 1936, he went to work for National Biscuit Company in Greensboro but after a short time came home to Rockingham County to work for Carolina Woolen Mills, which later became Fieldcrest Mills. This was his first real job since “following mules” on the farm.
Burton heard about the sneak attack on Pearl Harbor December 7, 1941, while taking his newly drafted brother to Danville on the way to Fort Eustis VA. He knew it meant trouble for our country and possibly for him. Burton kept up with war news and continued working at Fieldcrest until October 14, 1942, when he was drafted.
He was sent to Fort Bragg and who should greet him on arrival but Floyd Osborne, mayor of Leaksville, who had been drafted earlier. Burton went through the usual routine of getting his uniform and taking shots but due to his records being lost, he had to take all shots again. After a week he was sent to Fresno CA to a former Japanese Internment Camp for further limited training and tests. His test results showed he was suited for duty as a gunner/armorer on aircraft. His physical examination revealed that he was 6 feet 1 inch tall and the limit for aircraft gunners was 6 feet. Since there was a great need for gunners, the examining doctor took 1 inch off Burton’s recorded height so he “qualified” as a gunner.
Gunnery school at Tyndall Field, FL was Burton’s next stop. Using marked projectiles in 50 caliber machine guns, he fired at target sleeves trailing behind tow planes and was graded on how accurate he was. There was no free time during the several weeks of training except for one evening in town for a movie. Even so, Burton enjoyed the training.
After a brief time in Tucson AZ, he went on to El Paso TX as part of the process of assembling and training crews for the four engine B-24 Liberator bombers. There were navigation problems, mock bombing runs, and formation flying to get the crews ready for combat.
The 40 crew members assembled in Arizona went to Camp Kilmer NJ for embarkation on Queen Mary to Liverpool, England. The food was terrible, and the voyage was rough. Burton survived for eight days on hard biscuits and fried liver.
The night Burton arrived; the Germans bombed the cathedral at Coventry. British Prime Minister Churchill knew of the attack beforehand because the German code had been broken. Churchill could not take defensive measures because the secret of the code breaking would have been compromised.
The 44th Bomb Group’s permanent station became Shipdham, England.
After heavy action in North Africa in 1943, the Group did not fly any combat missions until early 1944. Upon arrival, Burton’s crew was assigned a war weary B-24, known as “Lemon Drop” that had survived the infamous and costly raid on the Rumanian Ploesti oil fields. On some missions in early 1944, “Lemon Drop” had to abort due to mechanical problems.
Burton did not think about dying on a mission but rather about doing the job he was assigned. He felt he could do nothing about the situation he was in so had to perform well if he wanted to survive. The whole crew had similar feelings and even in those bleak circumstances considered themselves brothers in arms. Oddly, the stress of battle and combat did not affect any of the men unduly until they approached the 35-mission level, at which point they would be relieved of air combat duty. That is when the men felt they might just make it to the “magic number” of missions. Before that, they felt the odds of making 35 successful missions were remote.
The B-24 was the most sought-after bomber of World War II as it could fly higher, faster, and farther, with a heavier bomb load, than the B-17 Flying Fortress. It just was not as pretty. Its ungainly appearance earned its nickname “Pregnant Cow”. B-24 crews called the B-17 a “Hand Grenade Carrier”. To this day, the crews of the Flying Fortresses and Liberators carry on their friendly, competitive banter.
Burton did not know from day to day when he would be called to take part in a bombing mission. Such information was kept from the men until the last minute. If the crews did not know mission plans, it was unlikely the enemy would find out by listening to “loose lips”. On mission days, the crews usually awakened about 5 am. There was limited time to do what they had to do, including eating a light breakfast and attending briefings about the route to target, weather, and the number of enemy fighters likely to be encountered on the way as well as the level of flak expected. Most crew members ate very light breakfasts to reduce the possibility of upset stomachs during the long flights. The next step was getting dressed in electrically heated flight suits, heavy socks, gloves, and flying boots. Also included in their pack was information on escape routes if shot down, steel helmet, earphones, 45 caliber pistol, parachute and K rations. The crew then boarded a truck to carry them out to the plane. After an inspection of the plane, they were ready for takeoff. Burton’s 50 caliber machine guns on the bomber were already armed and ready. A well-loved chaplain always came by for prayer with the men
Typically, 24 aircraft in his squadron took off, one after the other. The planes formed up with others at about 15,000 feet and later split off, heading for their respective targets. Sometimes the German 88s did not fire on the planes as they approached their targets. Anti-aircraft artillery was expected and if it did not come, that also worked on the crew’s minds. The best time for enemy planes to attack was during the bomb run as the bombers were flying straight to the target. When over the target, the enemy fighters stopped attacking and the flak became heavy. The German gunners knew the altitude and direction of the planes, so bombers were sitting ducks during the bomb run. In one case Burton was called to another location on the plane and while he was away from his position a piece of flak came through the skin of the bomber right where he had been stationed next to his gun; a narrow escape indeed!
After the release of bombs, the pilot turned the plane quickly and headed for home. Then fighters usually started attacking again. Later in the war, long range US fighter aircraft were able to escort our bombers, so the enemy had our fighters to deal with, saving many crewmembers lives. Burton’s longest mission was to Berlin – a ten-hour mission. The flak was the heaviest he had ever seen, coming from what he later learned were 844 anti-aircraft guns dispersed around Berlin.
When returning safely over the English Channel, after the strain and excitement of a mission, Burton would sometimes fall asleep on a lumpy bed of spent 50 caliber machine gun casings. If a bomber had a wounded crewmember on board, a flare was fired from the plane to indicate it needed priority in landing as well as needing the “meat wagon” to pick up and care for the wounded crewmember. Then came a 45-minute debriefing on anything of importance during the mission, a shot of whisky to help calm the nerves, a nap and then a visit to the mess hall for some “chow”.
After 35 missions and being relieved from further combat, the food got noticeably worse. The best food was saved to feed the combat crews. Burton remembers a lot of Spam being served to him after his 35th mission.
The most memorable flight Burton made in Europe was the bomb run in support of the June 6, D-Day invasion. He was awakened on June 5 at 10 pm and told “this is for real; the invasion is on”. Every member of the invasion force was given a letter from General Eisenhower, the Supreme Allied commander telling them of his confidence in each person and asking the blessings of Almighty God on the great undertaking about to begin.
The excitement and morale was so high there were people volunteering to fly on D-Day. Burton’s plane was to fly over Colleville, France and drop bombs in support of the landing. Each bomber was marked with two thick black stripes surrounding the fuselage to distinguish them from any of our planes the Germans may have captured and in turn, might try to enter our formations to shoot down our planes.
After the bombs were dropped, the planes had to turn east to avoid flying over our men and perhaps getting shot down by friendly, but confused, forces. Burton’s bomb run was successful, and all bombs were dropped 15 minutes before the landings. Burton’s next D-Day bombing mission was at 5:15 pm over Vire, France dropping 12 – 500# fragmentation bombs to disrupt communication lines. There were no enemy planes in sight on either mission.
In total, Burton spent 219 combat hours on B-24s and a similar amount of time in training flights. After 35 missions in combat Burton volunteered as a gunnery instructor in Laredo Texas but there were more instructors than students, so he was sent to Greenville MS to do office work until he was discharged. The news of victory in Europe and later, over Japan, thrilled him. He was proud to have served his country and thankful he did not meet the fate of so many of his friends who died in combat. He returned to Eden and his work in Production Scheduling at Fieldcrest Mills. He also continued as an active member of Bethlehem United Methodist Church, the church he originally joined in 1927.
Burton married his sweetheart Frances August 11, 1945. They had no children. Frances died February 25, 1999, after almost 54 years of marriage. She had been a teacher for many years in Eden schools. Since 1951, Burton has been very active as a volunteer, particularly with youth at the YMCA and as a member of the board of directors of the Y’s Men’s Club. He also served as a Y’s Men Regional Director. He continues to help when he is able. Jesse Burton never gives up!
Harden, Robert Allen
Engine trouble! Navigator Bob Harden did not want to hear those words while flying in a B 29 Superfortress over the Himalayan Mountains. Engine problems were all too common on these huge bombers. There was no choice; Harden and the rest of the crew had to bail out at 20,000 feet or perish in the skies over China.
It was a long journey to China from Harden’s Burke County, Georgia birthplace. His family moved to Birmingham AL when he was two and then to Greenville SC for Harden’s last two years of high school. After graduation from high school, he was accepted at Georgia Tech in an engineering program that allowed him to work a quarter and then attend school for a quarter. While Harden was in his third quarter at Georgia Tech the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. Harden wanted to fly and joined the Army Air Force pilot training program as soon as possible after the December 7 surprise attack.
He was called to active duty in January 1942 and assigned to Kelly Field in Texas for basic training. After basic training, he and his fellow enlistees were given aptitude tests and assigned to pilot, navigator, or bombardier training. Due to Harden’s math and science background, he was initially assigned to navigator training. Navigator classes were full so Harden was sent instead to bombardier school at Albuquerque NM. He received his commission as second lieutenant – bombardier in October 1942. At this point, Harden learned about the B 29 Superfortress destined to be the long-range bomber needed desperately in the Pacific due to the extreme distances between air bases and bombing targets. There was a “catch” though as bombardiers on B 29s also had to be trained as navigators.
Harden went on to navigator school at Hondo Air Base TX, graduating in June 1943. At Hondo Air Base, Harden practiced his navigation skills by flying between Hondo, Amarillo, and Big Springs Texas. As B 29s were not yet ready for deployment to the Pacific, Harden taught at bombardier and navigator schools for a time.
The development of the B 29 is called the “Battle of Kansas” due to the problems in developing this new bomber on a rush basis without the normal testing and modification of new equipment before deploying for combat. Engines were a weak point!
Finally, B 29s were available, and bomb groups were formed for Pacific duty. Harden was sent to Salinas KS assigned to the 58th Bomb Wing. The B 29 was just what was needed in the Pacific, but it was so complicated that a “Flight Engineer” position was created to handle the complex equipment.
Each of the new B 29s had two crews. One flew the bomber to an airbase near Calcutta – 11,500 miles away. The other crew, including Harden, went by navy ship, leaving March 10 and arriving April 4 in Calcutta. Distances were so great in Asia that four airfields had to be built in Chengdu, China as stopovers on the way to bomb Japan. Unfortunately, the Himalayan Mountains stood between the India base and the China base. The B 29s in India supplied the bases in China with fuel, bombs, and supplies to allow arming and refueling the B 29s before leaving on a bombing run to Japan. It took four six-hour one-way flights to China to support one bomb run to Japan. This was a perilous route called the “Aluminum Trail” due to the number of aircraft going down in the Himalayan Mountains. Flying at 25,000 feet in a pressurized aircraft allowed the B 29 to fly over most of the Himalayas – the hump. However, plane crews still looked up to the peak of Mount Everest.
In April 1944, Harden took his first flight over the “hump” on a supply run. He was substituting for a navigator on another crew. During the flight, an engine began to overheat and lose oil pressure. The pilot feathered the propeller, but the plane was heavy with gasoline and a spare engine that could not be manhandled to dump it out to reduce weight and perhaps allow the plane to make it to its destination.
This was Harden’s first experience bailing out of an aircraft. The Air Force did not practice bailing out at 20,000 feet as too many crew members were injured when they practiced. The aircraft was over northern India and Harden was concerned about the danger of wild animals. The crew went out the nose wheel hatch with one crewmember killed in the process. When Harden bailed out, he had supplies to help him survive including food rations, Indian and Chinese currency, a machete, 45 caliber pistol, poncho, first aid kit, compass, water purifying tablets and other helpful items.
Once safely down, they followed jungle trails and a river until they came upon some natives who recognized them as US airmen. The next day they reunited with the other crew members and were rescued by Army personnel who flew them back to the air base. A few days after returning to base, he left on his first bombing mission – the target – Sumatra oil refineries. It was one of the longest missions of the war, totaling about 20 hours over water, including one fuel stop. The plane flew 100 feet above water, as the plane was too heavy to climb to higher altitude because of the heavy fuel consumption required to do so. Due to cloud cover, Harden had to fly by dead reckoning, factoring in wind, course, speed, time and distance. Harden was right on target, and the mission was successful, catching the enemy by surprise.
Harden’s next mission was over the Himalayas to supply the China air base. The load was very heavy with gasoline, bombs, and supplies. The plane had a skeleton crew, was stripped of gun turrets and the bomb bays had auxiliary tanks filled with fuel. The B 29 flew over the Himalayas and arrived on the Chinese side of the mountains, but one engine started to overheat and lose oil. Too much oil escaped before the pilot could feather the propeller, so the propeller began wind milling with consequent loss of air speed and altitude.
Again, Harden and other crew members had to bail out from 20,000 feet. The tail gunner broke his leg in the process. The crew came down close enough so they could get together and plan their next move. A retired Chinese General – Ren-An Yang, who lived in the nearby small village of Fulin heard the noise of the plane coming down and sent some men to bring the crew to the village. Three or four days later, a rescue team came but only had room for three crewmembers in the rescue vehicle. The pilot, copilot and injured tail gunner were given priority to go back first to give details of the plane crash. It was monsoon season, and rain was constantly causing a delay of six weeks for a team to rescue the reminder of the crew. While the crewmembers were at Fulin in General Yang’s home, they became very friendly with the Chinese villagers, young and old, including Shu-Jon, the eight-year-old daughter of General Yang: more about her, later.
The rescue team took the crew to the China base and then flew them back to their India base. In the meantime, some of Harden’s other crewmembers not involved in the six-week delay were sent out on a tanker supply mission to China. They crashed in the Himalayas with all killed. With most of his crew gone, Harden substituted on another plane and completed several low altitude missions to Shanghai, mining the harbor, as well as bombing missions to Rangoon, Burma.
In late 1944, Harden’s 58th Bomb wing was transferred to Tinian in the Mariana Islands. This was within bombing range of Japan. Harden made 19 bombing runs to Japan out of Tinian. Several were high altitude daylight raids, but these were not effective. General Curtis LeMay changed the tactics to night saturation incendiary bombing. The object was to create firestorms and destroy the Japanese will to resist. The nighttime scene over the target was surreal with 500 or more planes in the air, searchlights with daggers of light in the sky and anti-aircraft shells exploding. These low-level missions had their own set of hazards of barrage balloons, antiaircraft flak, and suicide planes trying to crash into the B 29s. Many planes were lost with crews killed or captured. Every time Harden took off, he was concerned about his chances for survival. He was troubled by the firestorm of devastation created by the bombing; on the other hand, he knew if he went down and were captured, he had a very remote chance of survival.
A typical flight for Harden was leaving in the early evening, arriving over the target at night, and returning to Tinian in the morning. Many in the crew could sleep periodically on the way out and back but not the pilot, copilot or navigator. After the return was debriefing and then rest. In his off time after a mission, Harden sometimes listened to Tokyo Rose to enjoy the music, disregarding her propaganda. Harden says she knew a lot about his bomb group and its missions.
The Enola Gay and Bochs Car, the planes that dropped the bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, were on Tinian and kept separate from the rest of the B 29s. Harden learned of the dropping of the atomic bomb on Hiroshima after the fact. Several days after the bombs were dropped, Japan officially surrendered on September 2, 1945. It was October 10, 1945, when Harden received his discharge orders and flew back to the United States in his B 29.
Harden returned to Georgia Tech and earned an Engineering degree, marrying his sweetheart Jean, during his senior year. He worked briefly for B.F. Goodrich and in 1953 came to Fieldcrest Cannon where he rose to be Director of Engineering. Harden retired in 1983. He believes his four plus years of military discipline and service helped him succeed in later years. Harden and wife Jean have two daughters, two granddaughters and enjoy an active life in Eden.
As a postscript to Harden’s military experience, he received a letter from China on November 12, 2003. It was from Shu-Jon Yang, the daughter of General Yang who took care of the crew after they bailed out over Fulin, China August 26, 1944. Her letter says in part “…during the 1980s I had tried to find you but failed. Now 60 years have passed, but I can clearly remember everything happening in those days. When Mr. Liu brought me your address, I was overcome with strong emotion that I could not hold back my tears.” Harden had similar emotions when he received her letter and replied to her promptly. He has been in touch since. He hopes that Shu-Jon can someday visit him in Eden.
McGlohon, John A.
This reconnaissance mission was like any other mission. The B-29 Super Fortress crew got up in the wee hours of the morning to get ready for the 15-hour round trip flight to Japan to take reconnaissance photos. John McGlohon was the photographer and had his cameras ready and a full load of film canisters. However, this day, August 6, 1945, was different as it marked the beginning of the age of atomic warfare and McGlohon and the crew of his aircraft Shutterbug was to be an accidental eyewitness to history.
John McGlohon has lived in Asheboro virtually all his life. He attended local schools and graduated from high school in 1940 at age 16. After graduation, he worked for a time at Rose’s Dept Store and left for a higher paying job at Sun Spun Chenille Co. There was not much going on in Asheboro, and he knew he did not want to work in the mill much longer. The draft was just getting started but few men from Asheboro had been called. On June 3, 1941, his 18th birthday, he joined the Army Air Corps to see something beyond Asheboro. He wanted to be a parachute rigger.
On June 10, 1941, McGlohon was on his way to Charlotte to be sworn into the Air Corps. Later that same day, he went from Charlotte by train to Maxwell Field AL, arriving at two a.m. the next morning. He was assigned to an empty hanger with only one cot in it, his own. By the end of June 1941, the hanger was full of new recruits. There was not much to do yet, so his days were filled with sweeping streets, digging ditches, KP duty, marching and general orientation to the Air Corps.
McGlohon learned a photo squadron was being formed at the base and he volunteered. When asked what he could do, McGlohon replied, “I can type”, His first job in the Air Corps was as a typist with the 3rd Photo Mapping Squadron in September 1941. McGlohon had become very interested in photography in earlier years. He hung around the squadron photo lab so much it was clear he had an interest in that line of work. He was put in charge of developing and copying photos for the squadron.
War was heating up in Europe, and he was aware of increased activity on his base. In November, his unit was moved to a textile mill in Montgomery AL to provide more space for operations. Four weeks later, on December 7, 1941, Pearl Harbor was bombed. McGlohon has been a regular attendee of church since his youth. He was attending church that day and went to a movie afterwards. In the middle of the movie, the lights were turned on and all military personnel were told to return to their duty stations. When he arrived back at his base, he was told to get rid of his civilian clothes and wear only his Air Corps uniform. His squadron was sent briefly to Tampa FL and then assigned to Recife, Brazil. The first plane in his squadron, with the Commanding Officer aboard, crashed on takeoff to Recife and all were killed. This delayed the beginning of the project for a few months.
The plan was to map the east coast of South America. Our aircraft going to Europe would leave from South America when the route to destination was shorter. Our pilots needed good maps to make the flights over South America safer. Three cameras were mounted in the photo planes, one pointing vertically down and two at 45-degree angles, one to the left and one to the right. With overlapping exposures, the cameras would give 100% coverage from horizon to horizon. Each camera weighed about 50 pounds and carried film 9 ½ inches wide and 500 feet long in each of the many canisters on board the plane.
One time, a photographer got sick and asked McGlohon to fly for him. From that time on McGlohon started to fly regularly. The 3rd Photo Mapping Squadron operated almost independently with little support from anyone in the area. The crew scrounged for food and water and felt as though they were orphans. It was known there were German spies in their area and that made the mapping work even less comfortable.
One night a message came in asking the sizes of the crew for arctic clothing. That seemed unbelievable since they were in sweltering heat in South America. Soon, orders were received to go to Alaska and western Canada to map the area in advance of our invasion of the Aleutian Islands to rid it of Japanese troops. The crews were assigned B-25 Mitchell bombers fitted for photo mapping. The weather was very cold, foggy and uncomfortable. Volcanic ash pitted the propellers so badly they had to be refurbished every three missions. The Japanese abandoned the Aleutians, and an invasion was not necessary.
McGlohon’s squadron was transferred from Alaska back to the states and then on to the China-Burma-India (CBI) Theater in late 1943 to map the Himalayas. The squadron was now flying four engine B-24 Liberator bombers fitted for photo mapping. Upon landing at stopping points, they slept under the planes in hammocks. One night in India, a cobra was discovered, poised ready to strike a sleeping crewmember. The cobra was seen just in time and killed. During the mapping of the Himalayas, McGlohon was in the forward gun turret helping the pilot avoid mountains. On the outward portion of the flight, the plane had to fly low because it was heavy with gasoline. On the way back, the plane was lighter, and they could fly over most of the mountains and get good pictures. About this time, McGlohon caught malaria and was out of action for several days. He recovered and shortly after, his squadron was transferred back to McDill Air Base FL.
McGlohon got leave to go home for a few days. While home, he suffered a malaria relapse and was delayed in returning to McDill. When he got to McDill some days later his squadron had been transferred to Salinas, Kansas and was to be given a brand-new B-29 Super Fortress reconfigured as an F-13 photo recon aircraft. The plane was named Shutterbug by the crew.
It was the sixth one produced by Boing. This long-range aircraft was needed to fly extreme distances in the Pacific. McGlohon flew to Salinas and arrived before his crew did by train. As a side note, one of McGlohon’s fellow crewmembers was “Stocky” Stockdale. The navigator was Lt. Mac Hyman who later wrote “No Time for Sergeants” which was made into a movie starring Andy Griffith. Griffith’s role was based on crewmember Stockdale.
About this time, McGlohon’s brother, a pilot in the European Theater, was killed in action. McGlohon returned home for the funeral and upon return, his squadron was transferred from Salinas to India for mapping of the Burma and Lido roads through the Himalayas. In the spring of 1945, his squadron was transferred to Guam to fly mapping missions to Japan, Korea and western Russia, preceding a planned invasion of Japan by Allied Forces.
Departure for these long-distance flights was usually at 3 a.m. and arrival over target at daybreak. On some of the 15-hour recon flights, his aircraft faced enemy fighters and much anti-aircraft flak. It was common to patch holes in his B-29’s fuselage. Japan was running out of gas for its war effort, so enemy fighter aircraft were not faced very often. On another occasion while flying through the clouds, McGlohon’s plane nearly collided with a Japanese bomber. The crew could alternate by taking naps on the long, tiring flights. Typically, the recon flight would go in advance of a bombing mission to help pick targets, or after the mission to assess damage. The plane would just skim the water to avoid enemy radars until climbing to altitude for taking pictures.
The flight on August 6, 1945, started routinely. Of course, there was no knowledge of the momentous event that was to take place that day. On August 6 – at 8:16 a.m. – McGlohon’s plane was headed toward Hiroshima, Japan and as Shutterbug crossed the coast of Japan, the crew was surprised by something akin to a million flashbulbs going off at one time and all crewmembers were momentarily blinded. Shortly after the blast, they noticed another B-29 going past, presumably headed to Tinian. McGlohon thought to himself, “Wow, that bomber must have hit a huge fuel or ammo dump right on the button.” They later learned the mystery bomber was the “Enola Gay”. The combined speed of the planes was about 600 miles an hour, so they were approaching each other rapidly. As McGlohon’s plane continued to Hiroshima, McGlohon turned on his cameras and recorded the “hit” for the mystery B-29 and Shutterbug continued its photo mission to northern Japan.
Upon arrival back at Guam, officials heard about McGlohon’s plane and its experience earlier that day. Two marine sentries were at the photo labs as the truckload of film was delivered from McGlohon’s plane. Shutterbug was isolated at one end of the field and checked for radiation. There was none! McGlohon saw some of his pictures, which were already stamped “top secret”. McGlohon’s pictures were flown to Tinian where the Enola Gay, the plane that dropped the bomb, was stationed and then on to the United States for evaluation. He did not see any of the pictures again for about 50 years because of the top-secret classification. The former photo lab chief on Guam, gave him a copy at a squadron reunion in 1995.
With the quick release of service members after surrender documents were signed on September 2, 1945, McGlohon was sent to the US for discharge. After a flight across the ocean and a seven-day train ride, McGlohon was discharged at Fort Bragg. He was home that same night, October 6, 1945, for dinner with his surprised mother and dad.
McGlohon feels strongly that the atomic bomb ended a war that could have gone on with untold loss of life. As horrific as the bomb was, in McGlohon’s opinion the consequences of not dropping it would have been much worse. He has vivid memories of August 6, 1945.
McGlohon’s primary occupation after the war was as fire chief in Asheboro for 25 years. He also has been elected as city council member in Asheboro where he lives with his wife, Jane. They have two sons, two grandchildren and five great grandchildren. John McGlohon is one of the very few eyewitnesses to the atomic bomb explosion over Hiroshima.
Monsees, John Hilton
In action over Germany
“Everything happened so fast that you didn’t have time to think”
On approaching a bombing target
“You could see this big black thunderstorm ahead only it wasn’t a thunderstorm,
It was flak as far as you could see and we were heading right into it. We prayed a lot”
On losing an engine over Germany
“We threw overboard everything we could except our parachutes, in order to stay in the air”
On Axis Sally – German radio propaganda personality
“She knew who we were, where we had been and how many losses we took before we knew”
On loss of plane in the squadron
“Planes alongside me with my buddies inside just disintegrated in midair”
On his time in the Army Air Corps
”I am proud to have served, and I would do it again – right now!”
John Hilton Monsees was born and raised in Reidsville, NC but lost both parents before WWII and lived with his sister Hazel Fitz until entering the service. While in the 12th grade in November 1942, many of his friends were being drafted and Monsees enlisted in the Army Air Corps rather than wait for the draft to call him into the Army.
He reported to duty at Fort Bragg 2 days after enlisting. After 2 weeks of indoctrination at Ft. Bragg, he was sent to Keesler Field in Mississippi for basic training. The Master Sgt in charge (a good friend of the family) was from Rural Hall NC and intended to spare Monsees some of the indignities trainees usually endure. However, he spent 13 days peeling potatoes and washing pots and pans which was worse than the training he missed. At Keesler Field, Monsees spent 6 months in basic training as well as intense training in aircraft mechanic training and aircraft maintenance. This included 7 am to 5 pm in class during the week and on Saturdays for inspections.
In mid-1943, Monsees was transferred to Laredo, Texas for intensive gunnery training. As part of this training an aircraft would tow a target sleeve and Monsees, in another aircraft, would shoot at the target sleeve with a 30-caliber machine gun. Bullets were marked with paint that would come off when the sleeve was hit so the accuracy of each gunner could be determined by examining the target sleeve.
After gunnery training Monsees was transferred by train to Salt Lake City. This was a 5-day trip with only hard seats to sleep on and one bathroom for 100 men in each railroad car. Salt Lake City was a replacement depot and a stopping point before being assigned to Clovis, NM for transition school which was to prepare for assignment with a bomb group overseas. Monsees was assigned as a flight engineer. His duties were to stand behind the pilot and co-pilot to maintain, repair equipment or replace if possible, or do anything to keep the plane airworthy. This included watching gauges, transferring gasoline from tank to tank as necessary, keeping the four engines in synchronization, and generally keeping the aircraft in flying condition.
At Clovis, air crews were formed for overseas assignments and Monsees chose to volunteer for the crew of Lt. Joe MacAlister’s plane. MacAlister is the toughest man Monsee has ever known. He was accepted as Flight engineer and his job at that point was to choose the remainder of the enlisted air crew. He was 19 years old at the time.
From September 1943 to December 1943 he was assigned to Charleston, SC for overseas crew training and then back to Clovis and on to Mitchell Field Long Island where his crew and others were given brand new, combat equipped, B 24 Heavy Bombers. While at Mitchell Field, more training ensued with close formation flying and simulated bombing runs on 50-gallon steel drums in the ocean. On 12/18/1943 his crew left Mitchell Field and except for the pilot and navigator, had no idea where they were going. Morrison Field, Fl was the destination. After 2 days at Morrison Field, on 12/20/1943 the crew left for Trinidad and then in Brazil. While in Brazil one of the crewmen lamented “I miss America already”. Thus, was born the name of their B 24 – Miss America ’44. A Varga girl graced the nose of the B 24 above the name “Miss America ‘44”. At exactly midnight on 12/31/1943, the crew of Miss America ’44 left to cross the Atlantic Ocean bound for North Africa.
A heavy storm was encountered on the way and along with low fuel, caused a Mayday call to be sent. A British Air base responded and fortunately, it was close to Miss America 44’s location. The ceiling was about 200 feet and after a frightening approach and landing, Miss America “44 was safe on the ground. As this was a small fighter base, the wings of the giant bomber barely cleared the fighters parked near the runway. The crew was met by British machine guns until identification was verified.
The aircraft and crew went on to Algiers for 4 weeks close formation flying and then to San Giovanni, Italy. Twenty-five allied air bases were within 50 miles of San Giovanni.
Hilton Monsees flew 50 combat missions from that base during the next 8 months. Before each mission, he wrote a letter home, believing it might be the last correspondence he would ever send.
On a typical bombing mission day, he would get up at 3 am to a wakeup call from his pilot. There was no hot water, so a cold-water shave followed the wake-up call. Oxygen masks are very close fitting, so a shave was necessary each flying day to avoid any loss of oxygen due to seepage around the face mask. These masks were required on all missions because of the high-altitude operations. He ate a breakfast of powdered eggs, toast, marmalade and grits. After breakfast he went to the briefing room where a map was displayed showing the weather, route to and from the target, pockets of anti-aircraft artillery and enemy fighter air bases which could cause trouble enroute.
Pre-fight checking of the bomber was followed by last minute comments from the ground crew chief on anything of significance regarding the aircraft. Squadrons lined up and when the flare from the control tower was fired, take off started and bomber formations began forming in the sky. Typical targets were ball bearing plants, tank manufacturing locations and rail marshalling yards. Two bombing runs to Rumanian oil fields were included in the 50 missions Hilton flew.
German fighters usually attacked the formation about 2 hours after leaving the base and continued intermittently until 2 hours before arriving back at the base. On the bomb run itself, the German fighters held back because they did not want to be destroyed by their own anti-aircraft fire. Many aircraft were lost due to enemy fighters or anti-aircraft fire. Most of the bombing missions Hilton flew were unescorted by our fighters due to endurance limits of the fighters. This improved later when the fighters were able to use droppable gas tanks.
Upon returning to the base, the crew was debriefed concerning number and type of enemy aircraft met, anti-aircraft fire concentration points, weather encountered and any aircraft lost. Except for one man injured by flak, several engines shot out and hundreds of bullet holes in Miss America ’44, the crew was unscathed after 50 missions.
On 9/3/1944, Hilton embarked back to the states on a Liberty ship which also held 700 German POWs. After turning down an offer to “enjoy” a B 29 bomber assignment in the Pacific, Hilton spent the remainder of his time in the service in Denver, Colorado, teaching aircraft maintenance to air crewmen. While in Denver he finished his High School requirements which were transferred to Reidsville in time for him to graduate with the Reidsville High School class of 1946.
Hilton Monsees later became Fire Chief of the City of Reidsville, retiring in 1984.
He is married to the former Juanita Talley. They have one daughter Lynn, married to Ray Carter. They have one grandson, Nolan Monsees Carter.
Morgan, Robert K.
Colonel Robert K. Morgan, pilot of the famed World War II bomber Memphis Belle, celebrated his 85th birthday in 2003 in Asheville, North Carolina, his hometown. Morgan is a charismatic individual and a personification of the thousands of crew members who fought in the air during that long ago war. His aircraft, Memphis Belle, was the first bomber to complete 25 missions in Europe when 80% of bomber crews did not complete 25 missions because they were shot down or otherwise lost. Morgan was not born to be a pilot although he was a good one, and he still flies. He was a fun-loving college student at the University of Pennsylvania in 1940 when he realized our country was headed for war and he wanted to get into the service. Morgan states, “I didn’t like to walk, and I couldn’t swim well so that left the Air Corps by default.”
Morgan entered active Air Corps service in February of 1941. His first training was at Camden, South Carolina where his instructor took him up in a PT-17 trainer plane for a series of snap rolls, spins and enough acrobatics that Morgan wondered whether he was in the right branch of service. Even so, Morgan soloed in less time than usual – six- and one-half hours. On one training mission, Morgan succumbed to the temptation to buzz the row of trainer aircraft lined up on the field. This resulted in a serious threat from his commanding officer to eliminate him from the flight-training program. This was the first of several devilish stunts he did.
At one of his next training stations, he was allowed to choose which he wanted, fighters or bombers. He surprised all his boyhood friends by choosing bombers. Driving his father’s car at high speeds through the mountains near Asheville, in their minds, qualified him as a fighter pilot. As Morgan states, “I chose bombers because I liked company in the air, and I would have a navigator to get me home.” Morgan graduated from basic flight training in early 1942 and was sent to McDill Field to train for multi engine aircraft. There were no four-engine bombers at McDill, only the twin engine Lockheed Hudson. His time was spent patrolling the Gulf of Mexico looking for submarines. One day on a boring patrol mission, Morgan noticed a party going on at St. Petersburg Beach. Going down for a close look, and again for an even closer look, was a mistake. The next day the commanding general called Morgan in for a conference and asked if he had been flying a Lockheed Hudson and had buzzed the cocktail party the general had attended. Morgan replied, “Yes sir!” and General Olds told Morgan he should eliminate him from flight training but since the government had $30,000 invested in him, he would not recommend that. Instead, General Olds said, “If I have anything to do with it, you will be the oldest second lieutenant in the Army Air Corps.” That almost happened!
Morgan was originally destined for Africa on a B-24 heavy bomber but orders were changed, and he stayed at McDill for training in B-17s. Morgan says the B-17 was the most beautiful airplane he had ever seen. On one of his training flights, he was over Asheville, North Carolina and while his instructions were not to land during the training flight, the thought of showing this beautiful airplane to some of his friends in Asheville was too much to resist. He landed on the short runway and burned out his brakes. A call to his squadron commander resulted in repairs being made but another black mark on the Morgan record. Two weeks later the squadron was flying to Walla Walla, Washington to continue training in B-17s. As punishment for the brake replacement caused by the unauthorized landing in Asheville two weeks earlier, Morgan had the “privilege” of riding an overcrowded troop train to Walla Walla. While in Walla Walla, he met the sister-in-law of the flight surgeon of the squadron, a beauty from Memphis Tennessee named Margaret Polk – the real Memphis Belle. A romance blossomed!
The squadron was assigned to Bangor, Maine to pick up a brand-new B-17 before going to Europe. All the crews were naming their planes and Morgan felt his crew should name their plane also. After much discussion, the bomber was named Memphis Belle by a slim margin. Two votes for Memphis Belle and one vote each for eight other names. Morgan called Esquire magazine in New York and talked to George Petty, the creator of the 1940’s Petty Girl drawings, to design the nose art for Memphis Belle. He agreed. An artist in the squadron painted it on the nose of the bomber. A red bathing suit on one side and a blue bathing suit on the other side, adorned the Memphis Belle.
In October 1942, Memphis Belle and crew went to Bassingbourn, England, a luxurious base of operations compared to most Air Corps bases. Morgan says everything was better except the food. On November 6, 1942, Morgan and crew went on their first bombing mission to Brest, France against Nazi submarine pens. The mission was accomplished without too many difficulties but the next mission against submarine pens at St. Nazaire, France was an entirely different matter. One plane from the squadron was lost and Memphis Belle came back with 50 or more bullet holes in the fuselage. At that point, the reality of the brutal air war came home to the crew of the Memphis Belle. During the 25 missions Memphis Belle flew, she lost eight engines that were shot out, a large piece of the right wing blown off and a six-foot piece of stabilizer destroyed along with many hundreds of bullet holes, all without the loss of any crewmember.
In the dark days of 1943, due to losses among air crews reaching as high as 80% of a squadron, a new rule was put in effect; any crew attaining 25 missions would go home, with their combat service completed. On Belle’s 20th mission a famous Hollywood director, William Wyler asked if he could come along and take movies for a training film. After filming the 25th mission, Wyler told Morgan the film was a documentary that was to be shown around the free world with Memphis Belle and her crew as the focal point. Morgan asked, “What if we hadn’t come back from the 25th mission?” Wyler replied, “We had a backup; Hell’s Angels.” This documentary called “Memphis Belle, the story of a B-17” is currently shown on the History Channel from time to time.
Upon the completion of 25 missions, Belle and her crew started out on their 26th mission, which was to help sell war bonds and thank the production workers all over the country for what they were doing to win the war and their help bringing the Memphis Belle crew and other military personnel home. A visit to Asheville was part of the tour and true to form; Morgan flew the Memphis Belle between City Hall and the County Court House upon leaving Asheville. One hundred seventy-three feet separate the two buildings. Old timers still talk about that.
Media coverage of the war bond tour was intense and the romance with the real Memphis belle, Margaret Polk, fell apart. However, Morgan was a close friend of Polk until her death in 1990. In her later years, Polk was a leader in the restoration efforts on the Memphis Belle.
While he could have had an easy job after his experience in Europe, Morgan went on to the Pacific to continue his military career with a B-29 Super Fortress squadron. His aircraft was named Dauntless Dottie. He completed another 26 missions and on November 24, 1944, was the leader of the first bombing mission on Tokyo, since Jimmy Doolittle’s famous raid in 1942. He also took part in the firebombing of Tokyo in early 1945 that burned 54 square miles to ashes. After Morgan left the Pacific, Dauntless Dottie crashed off the island of Kwajalein. Morgan is part of a current effort to find and rehabilitate the aircraft.
In 1990, William Wyler’s daughter, who is a movie producer, wanted to create a “Hollywood” movie on the World War II exploits of the Memphis Bell. She was going to name it the “Dixie Belle” but thought better of that and named it “The Memphis Belle.” It was a composite of every combat flight the Memphis Belle had made, and Morgan was not happy with it although it was entertaining and a box office success. Matthew Modine played the part of Morgan in the movie.
The B-17 Memphis Belle today is on triumphant display in the U S Airforce Museum in Dayton Ohio. Robert Morgan is very generous with his personal time, regularly speaking to high school history and ROTC classes and college classes. He attends air shows all over the world and continues to fly military and civilian aircraft. In 1997, he met the Queen Mother in England again, 54 years after she had congratulated him on the completion of 25 missions in the Memphis Belle.
Morgan has four children and resides in Asheville with his wife Linda, also a pilot, along with miscellaneous dogs and cats.
B-17 statistics: Cost $314,000 in 1943, Wingspan 103’9”, Length 74’9”, Height 19’1”, Weight 65,000 pounds, Speed 160 mph @ 25,000 feet, Bomb Load 8,000 lbs., Fuel 2,520 gallons, Guns, 13 – 50 caliber machine guns, Crew 10
Myers, Ralph E.
Ralph Myers learned to fly in the late 1930s. The US Marines would later use this skill when as a Staff Sergeant, Myers was assigned as pilot of a military transport to carry US paratroopers invading the South Pacific Island of Bougainville. That mission took a deadly turn, and Myers was fortunate to survive.
Growing up as the son of a farmer and grocer in Florida in the 20s and 30s had its good points. The country was in a depression for a major part of that time, but Myers remembers his family always had enough to eat. They did not have much else in those “boom and bust” times. When a senior in high school, Myers took courses at Florida Southern College and for extra money, did carpentry work on a new building at the college designed by world-renowned architect Frank Lloyd Wright.
On December 7, 1941, while attending college, he was at his fraternity house and heard the news of the sneak attack by Japanese forces. On Monday December 8, all fraternity members gathered around a radio and heard President Roosevelt deliver his famous “Day of Infamy speech” to congress and the nation. On December 18, Myers went home on a Christmas holiday but did not return to college; instead, he went to Tampa to take a physical to enter the Army Air Corps aviation program.
He failed the Air Corps physical exam due to low blood pressure, so he joined the Marine Corps instead in March 1942. The Marines told him to go home temporarily and in May 1942, he was assigned to boot camp at Parris Island SC. Upon his arrival late in the evening, his drill instructor said, “…I plan to make you suffer! Hit the sack because you will be up at 4:30 am.” This set the tone for his training, and the drill instructor was a man of his word.
After thirteen weeks of boot camp, Myers graduated in late 1942 with a great deal of respect for his tough drill sergeant. He felt well trained as a Marine fighting man and believed he could lick anyone.
After two short assignments in the states, he was sent by ship to an airfield in New Caledonia to drive an “Oshkosh” a tractor that is used to position aircraft on an airfield. In January 1943, Myers was sent to Guadalcanal to take part in mop up operations on that embattled island – our first offensive action in the Pacific. As part of that effort, Myers grimly realized the Japanese wanted to kill him. On his two patrols in the jungle, Myers said his unit concentrated on snipers in trees and a space 10 feet wide and 20 feet in front of each man. One had to pay close attention or be a casualty.
After the mop up, Myers was brought back to New Caledonia. Naval ships were bringing in transport planes (DC-3s) with their wings off, to be attached after unloading. There was a shortage of pilots and headquarters was searching service records for men with pilot training. When they discovered Myers had pilot training, he was “told” he must be trained to fly the transports. He was promoted to staff sergeant and after three weeks of training was certified as a pilot. He would fly co-pilot initially in carrying men and materiel on dozens of flights to and from Australia. Myers made two combat missions as pilot, to Bougainville during invasion operations. The first flight was only a 45-minute flight, so a bare minimum of fuel was carried, and all unnecessary equipment was removed from the plane to maximize the number of paratroopers carried. Slowly gaining speed and lifting off with full throttle, the plane was so loaded it could only climb 100 feet per minute. While gaining altitude, machine gun fire from a Japanese Zero fighter caused Myers’ plane to crash in the ocean. Myers made a good pancake landing in the water and fortunately, the partially filled gas tanks aided floatation. Just as help arrived, the plane started to go underwater. Myers and all the paratroopers were saved.
The second mission to Bougainville was also to drop paratroopers. As Myers gained altitude after dropping the paratroopers, his twin-engine transport was hit by cannon fire, which killed his radioman, tore off the right propeller, and blew a hole in the wing. The propeller flew through the cockpit, instantly killing his co-pilot but miraculously missing Myers except for minor pieces of shrapnel in his arm. The aircraft was almost uncontrollable on one engine and with large holes in the wing and cockpit areas. Myers was dazed but alert enough to put the plane on autopilot and struggle to the rear door of the plane to bail out. Ironically, Myers landed in a group of landing craft that were taking troops to shore as part of an invasion force. He was rescued by personnel on one of the landing crafts and became part of the landing force. He embarked from the landing craft and got halfway up the beach when it felt as though he had been hit in the back by a large baseball bat. He saw flashes of lights and stars. That is all he remembers. The man next to him had stepped on a land mine and he had been killed instantly while Myers received 17 pieces of shrapnel in his back.
Myers was evacuated to a hospital on New Caledonia for an operation to remove the shrapnel. All shrapnel was removed except three pieces too close to his spine for a routine operation. A specialist would have to handle that. While waiting some weeks for the specialist to arrive on New Caledonia, Myers recuperated enough to allow him to take a rest and recreation leave in Australia. While there he was involved in an automobile accident, which was not his fault, and the person with him had a broken leg, punctured lung and was unconscious for several days. Myers was not injured but would not leave until his friend was conscious. This caused Myers to be AWOL (absent without official leave) and when he returned to New Caledonia for the operation to remove the shrapnel he was punished by demotion to sergeant from staff sergeant. His time in the hospital counted as part of his punishment so that was the end of the AWOL episode. The surgeon took out only two pieces of shrapnel and Myers did not fly again.
He was assigned to headquarters duty on Bougainville, handling mail and other administrative duties while dodging sniper bullets. He was classified as walking wounded as he still had one piece of shrapnel in his back. On Bougainville, he had many opportunities to hear Tokyo Rose’s music and her propaganda broadcast from Japan in English. One night while listening to Tokyo Rose’s music, there was an astounding announcement by Tokyo Rose that the Japanese were currently mounting a large-scale attack on Bougainville to retake it. Myers jumped up, accidentally breaking the light bulb in his tent and listening for further information. It was deadly quiet and nothing was happening. It was determined later that the Japanese were perpetrating a hoax on their own troops to inspire them to fight with more determination on other islands because of “their success on Bougainville”.
The most courageous man that Myers remembers from WWII was a friend nicknamed Smitty. Myers visited him at the hospital after the battle for Bougainville was over. This man had operated a machine gun against one of the Japanese suicidal attacks on our lines and killed hundreds of Japanese soldiers. A grenade hit him and blew off most of both hands. The Japanese assumed he was dead but a day later when the area was retaken, our troops found him still alive. Smitty embodied all Myers had learned about courage in combat.
Myers came home on a hospital ship in October 1944 and was returned to Camp Miramar in California, being assigned to military police and security duties until May 1946. Myers was discharged and entered the University of Florida under the GI bill, majoring in Architectural Engineering. This led him to a long, successful career as a building contractor in Florida. In the latter part of his career, he took a job in Greensboro as NC State Director of Public Housing, living in Reidsville.
Myers is married to Isabelle and has three children and six grandchildren. They continue to lead very active lives in civic and church affairs in Reidsville. He sums up his WWII experience by saying “I am proud to have served my country in time of need”. Oh yes, the last piece of shrapnel worked its way out in 1992 with some minor surgical help. The scars in his memory remain.
Newman, Phil
On joining the service: I could have been exempt but I wanted to serve.
On his choice to go into multi engine aircraft: I liked the thought of four engines out there.
On his training: We were lean, fit, well trained, and ready to go to war.
On his pay: I was making $347 a month at age 21 and felt good about that.
On his first mission: All the glory was gone. It was work and being scared.
On losing a friend in combat: It was terrible, going through a friend’s personal effects.
On writing letters: I wrote a letter home before a mission. My return was uncertain.
On the Tuskegee Airmen: They were our friends, and they took good care of us.
On his service: One of the best things I have ever done, and I would do it again.
As a young man, Phil Newman did not believe he would ever fly in an airplane, not to mention, pilot one. That all changed in 1942 when he enlisted in the U.S Army and requested assignment to the air cadets. This request was to change his life and confront him at a very young age with experiences that most men never face.
As a young man, he watched planes take off and land at Greensboro airport. He wanted to fly! He graduated from High School in June 1941 leaving Greensboro to work for his uncle in New Jersey as a machine operator. After Pearl Harbor, he could have been deferred to continue his work in the machine shop, as it was vital work in the national defense effort. However, Newman was impressed with all the military planes regularly flying overhead and elected to join the U. S. Army in November 1942 with a goal of becoming a pilot.
He was assigned to Atlantic City to take his 10 weeks’ basic training. While there, he learned to greatly respect his drill sergeant who had been a sparring partner for ex-heavyweight boxing champion Jack Dempsey.
Newman was finally accepted as an air cadet and assigned to Grove City, Pennsylvania for 10 weeks of training. From Grove City, he went to Nashville, Tennessee to a classification center where he took a battery of motor skill, eye and depth perception tests, as well as physical training. There, aviation cadets were classified as pilots, navigators, or bombardiers or sent to the infantry if a cadet failed the tests. All the cadets wanted fighters except Newman. He liked the idea of four engines on the wings and wanted to go into heavy bombers.
Newman’s next assignments were to Maxwell Field, Alabama and then to advanced flying school in Stuttgart, Arkansas where he met his wife to be. If a pilot washed out during this advanced training, he was usually assigned as a navigator or bombardier.
In June 1944, Newman graduated from advanced flying school as a Flight Officer, which was the equivalent of second Lieutenant. He was making $347 per month, which were outstanding earnings for a high school graduate in those days.
Newman was next assigned to Plant City, Florida to go into transitional training to B-17 heavy bombers and on to Drew Field where he trained night and day for two months under all flying conditions.
In November 1944, he was assigned to go to Hunter Field to pick up his crew and a new B-17G, the latest model of the bomber. He was ready to go to war after one- and one-half years of training. After additional familiarization flights, he flew to Fort Dix, N.J. and prepared for the flight overseas. He and his crew readied themselves for the flight and took off at 11:30 P.M. headed for the Azores, then on to Marrakech, Morocco. Upon leaving the Azores, Newman held the plane to an altitude of 300 feet all the way to Morocco to avoid being sighted by enemy radar. This was the most difficult part of the trip due to the intense concentration necessary to fly at such a low altitude.
After a brief stay in Morocco, he took off with his crew and opened sealed orders which directed him to Foggia, Italy which was a former Luftwaffe air base, which had, been abandoned quickly as the allies advanced up the boot of Italy. Many German aircraft had been left on the field. The aircraft were a strange sight as the Italians had stripped them of anything useful, including the tires, which they fashioned into soles for their shoes.
When Newman arrived at the Foggia base, the weather was rainy, cold, wet, and most depressing. He was now part of the 15th Air Force, 99th Bomb Group, 347th Bomb Squadron.
Every night the crew checked the battle orders for the next day. If your plane and crew were on the orders, you went to bed and got your rest because tomorrow would be a long day. The first day Newman saw his name on the battle order, all the glory of being a pilot faded. It was just work and fear of combat and knowledge that he would have to put his life on the line for his country. The first flight, as was typical, was a milk run. No enemy planes and an easy target. This was to build confidence and allow crews to face some danger.
Targets were typically fighter manufacturing facilities, rail marshalling yards, and oil fields. A typical bombing mission would include 25 to 30 aircraft each one loaded with 10 men, 13 machine guns, 6,380 rounds of ammunition, 2800 gallons of gas and 6,000 to 10,000 pounds of bombs. The most critical problem of the long bomb runs were the anti-aircraft guns which became increasingly concentrated as the Germans moved back into their homeland and brought the guns with them. On a bombing mission, an air group could face thousands of anti-aircraft guns. Before every mission, Newman wrote letters home so there would be a last letter to his wife and family sent if he did not return. The worst duty Newman had was to go through the belongings of a flyer that did not return.
On the days he was assigned to fly a mission he would be awakened at about three A.M. In half an hour, he would do his morning routine and eat breakfast. After breakfast, all crew members would go to their briefing rooms where a large stage was set up with a map covered by a drape. The drape would be removed and the target for the day revealed. The pilots, navigators, and bombardiers would get separate briefings for their specialties. Before takeoff, all had the opportunity to see the Chaplain for spiritual counseling. Most crew members took advantage of that.
It was still dark when the crew rode out to their plane in an open truck or large wagon pulled by a jeep. All crewmembers would go through their check off list to be certain the bomber had, for example, a proper fuel load. The flight engineer would open all 13 separate gas tanks to be certain they were full. More than one bomber took off without a proper fuel load due to a mistake in fueling. On several bombing missions a field toilet was sealed and autographed by all the flight and ground crews with epithets for Hitler that don’t bear repeating. This was the last item put in and rested on the floor of the bomb bay and, of course, was the first thing dropped on the target.
Engines were starting and the flare from the control tower indicated the planes were to line up for takeoff. Planes took off at 30-second intervals, and it took about half an hour for the group to form up and head for the target.
When Newman’s plane was ready, he applied full power and started rolling. Climbing at 500 feet per minute to an altitude of 30,000 feet at a speed of 150 miles per hour on the eight-to-ten-hour flights to the target used two thirds of the fuel supply. When arriving in enemy territory the flak started to appear in the sky. Newman said “if you saw a black cloud, you were ok on that blast, as it had already dissipated. If you saw what appeared to be a match strike in the sky it was too close, and you would probably be hit by flak.” The B-17 had 13 separate oxygen systems for the crew of 10. Some crew members that failed to put on the mask tightly did not survive at high altitude. Heated suits kept the crew from freezing to death, as the waist gunner windows had no way to close. It was always freezing at high altitude. Even at sub-freezing altitude, the pilot was perspiring in his flight suit due to the stress of flying.
At about 15 miles from target, the bomb run began and the bombardier took over to fly the plane through his bombsight controls. Newman explains, “The German gunners knew our altitude and direction and planes were sitting ducks on the bomb run”. These were the scariest times of Newman’s life. Sometimes it was just slaughter with 20% of planes being lost over the target or damaged beyond their ability to return to base. If one engine was lost, you could get back—maybe. Two engines out and you were in serious trouble. If more than two engines were out, you normally could not make it back to base. If fighters were in the air this is when they attacked, looking for damaged aircraft and stragglers. At this stage of the war, fuel shortages allowed the Germans to place strong air defenses at only the most important targets.
During 1944 and later, P-51 fighters were able to escort bombers to and from the targets due to the invention of the fuel drop tanks which vastly improved the range of the fighters. The pilots most often accompanying Newman’s group were the famous Tuskegee Airmen, made up of black pilots. The Tuskegee Airmen, flying red tailed P-51s, never lost a bomber they escorted during enemy action. Even so, tight formations were critical to group integrity and to maximize firepower against the enemy fighters. The trip back was faster because the bomber weighed thousands of pounds less than on the outgoing trip and only needed the last 1/3 of the fuel supply. In a sense, Newman’s plane was coasting downhill back to base. If a crewmember was badly injured during the bomb run, he either froze to death or bled to death, as medical care was extremely limited on the plane. When arriving at home base, the damaged planes landed first to get wounded off and those planes still intact came in last.
`Debriefing followed the return and this was about a 30-minute recap of what was seen and done during the mission. Newman states, “Each successful mission was a victory which allowed me to live and fight another day”. Newman points out that these were, for the most part, 20-year-old boys doing extraordinary things to keep our country free. If you thought too much about what you were doing you would go crazy. Some did.
After the war, Newman returned to Greensboro with his wife and entered the communication business. He feels his time in service was the best experience he ever had because he was doing something very important for our country and learned to bear some very important responsibilities without breaking. Newman has two children, a son and daughter.
He is a founding member of the Combat Airmen of WWII (Now known as Veterans of America) a local organization of war veterans.
Riggs, William E.
When Bill Riggs graduated from high school in Grimesland, NC in 1939, he had no money, no job, and little idea of what he would do as his life’s work. The intervention of World War II gave Riggs strong direction to his life and resulted in significant accomplishments during his careers in both civilian and military work.
To Riggs, as for most high school graduates in 1939, the war in Europe was far away and not an immediate concern. His main concern was getting a job and upon the advice of his sister, went to Business College in Fayetteville, NC for a one-year course of study. Upon graduation, he went to work for the Civil Service at Ft. Bragg for a time.
On December 7, 1941, Riggs and some friends were riding in a car and listening to the radio. They heard the news of the attack on Pearl Harbor and unlike most young people, Riggs was a student of history and current events, and he understood better than most what this meant for our country.
As required, Riggs promptly registered for the draft. His superior at Ft. Bragg told Riggs he thought a deferment from military service might be possible due to the nature of his work at Ft. Bragg, but Riggs was not interested in deferment and indicated he would let events take their course. That decision resulted in his being drafted in November 1942. He had seven days to get his affairs in order and could only bring the clothes he was wearing to Ft. Bragg where he was inducted. He was told his civilian clothes would be shipped back home. He never saw the clothes again.
Riggs left Ft. Bragg for Camp Claiborne, LA after five days of getting uniforms, shots, KP duty, as well as limited indoctrination to the US Army. His trip to Camp Claiborne was on a crowded troop train. The trip started with lunch, and a fellow soldier spilled a full cup of hot coffee on Riggs’ new olive drab trousers. The sharp crease in his trousers was gone!
The 103rd Infantry Division was formed at Camp Claiborne and Riggs was asked his preference for duty. Having only his experience in Civil Service at Ft. Bragg in Ordnance, he chose Ordnance with the 103rd Infantry Division. His basic training was at Camp Claiborne. The only wound Riggs received during WWII was there during a demonstration where dynamite caps were used. One of the caps exploded at a distance from him during the demonstration and Riggs immediately felt a shock and blood running down his hand. A portion of the exploded dynamite cap had imbedded itself in his hand. The surgeon at the hospital could never find it and today that little piece of metal sometimes bothers Riggs.
One day, a notice on the bulletin board appeared asking for volunteers for Army Air Corps pilot training. Riggs volunteered along with a few friends. In September of 1943, Riggs received orders to Keesler Field, Biloxi, MS to begin the pilot training process. Riggs recalls one test called the sweaty palms test. If your palms were sweaty when you shook hands with the examining doctors, you were dropped from the program. The theory being, if you could not take the stress of an Air Corps physical without sweaty palms you could not take the stress of piloting an airplane. This was great duty for 5 months until the news was published that the air war in Europe was going so well that additional pilots were not needed. His pilot training ended.
Riggs was eventually sent back to the 103rd Infantry Division, now in Houston Texas. Back to the same typewriter he had used and with the people he had left some months before. This time however, the 103rd was headed for Europe. In October 1944, Riggs’ division was loaded on a converted Italian luxury liner bound for Marseilles, France.
Sixteen days before the ship arrived, the German army had been driven from Marseilles, so the city and port were bombed out and it was an awful scene to Riggs. During the two weeks Riggs was in Marseilles, trucks and jeeps were being unloaded from the ships in boxes. They had to be put together like an assembly line. Typical of an assembly line, when work was finished on a vehicle, a driver jumped into the vehicle and drove it off to the waiting army unit for whom it was destined. After all the 103rd units were delivered, Riggs asked for, and received, one more Jeep – unauthorized but delivered nevertheless – and it allowed Riggs as the driver, and his commanding officer, to ride over 10,000 miles in Europe with their own private transportation accommodations.
As the 103rd advanced in late 1944 on the same path the retreating German army took, the carnage of war was evident everywhere. Dead soldiers, dead horses, and burned-out vehicles lined the roads. In mid-December 1944, with the war seemingly winding down, heavy snow started falling and the 103rd pulled back for a time to watch for any action by the Germans. At this time the Battle of the Bulge started. At 4 a.m., the division was notified to leave in one hour, heading toward the raging battle to take up position in the area the 101st airborne division had vacated when they went to Bastogne. Every day and night, the battle sounds could be heard. Snow was 48 inches deep in many places and movement was almost impossible. Each night Riggs was responsible for typing up the day’s activity report and hand delivering it to headquarters. The first night he delivered the report, Riggs ran into a German roadblock but there were no German defenders. Then he saw two dead German soldiers, which were all that remained of the defenders of the roadblock.
Riggs spent many months going across Germany, to Darmstadt, Ulm, Heidelberg, and Nuremberg among many cities. Visiting the stadium in Nuremberg where Hitler had made so many political speeches was a sobering experience to Riggs, and the vision of that stadium lives in his memory. By April of 1945, the German army was in fast retreat. It was necessary to find gasoline for Patton’s tanks as they were advancing so fast that gas was in short supply. Riggs accompanied his superior officer on a mission to find gasoline wherever they could. In coming into a small town in Germany, they noticed several German soldiers with a crowd of persons going into a church service. This happened to be in front of the mayor’s office and Riggs’s superior told the mayor to tell the soldiers to turn in their arms and surrender to the two of them. There were 32 soldiers and they all surrendered and walked behind Riggs’s jeep back to the main lines as prisoners. Riggs and his superior went back and found 14 more German soldiers, who became their prisoners. Riggs still perspires when he thinks of the audacity of, he and his superior officer rounding up 46 armed German soldiers as prisoners, having only a rifle and a pistol as weapons to use if they had to do so.
Riggs was in Innsbruck, Austria when the war ended. He and others collected arms from the Germans still standing guard. They were very docile and offered no resistance. He sent a copy of the Star and Stripes newspaper to his sister showing the headline of the war being over and he received this treasured paper back from his sister’s family 50 years later.
Riggs had sufficient points to get out of the service so was ordered to Camp Lucky Strike for processing to return to the United States. He went to the United States by ship in July 1945, landing in New York. He received 30 days leave, which he spent in Grimesland, NC, and Tulsa, OK. In September 1945, he went to Fort Campbell KY and was discharged on Thanksgiving Day from Fort Campbell.
Riggs attended NC State on the GI Bill, majoring in Textile Engineering. A major part of his career, however, was spent as a Division Manager for Chase Packaging in Reidsville, NC.
Riggs had joined the ROTC at NC State and in 1947, when an Air Force unit was formed immediately after the establishment of the Air Force as a separate branch of service; he transferred to the Air Force ROTC. That was a good move as in his succeeding years in the Air Force Reserve, Riggs advanced to the point where he was appointed by Governor James Hunt as Assistant Adjutant General for Air with the rank of Brigadier General.
Riggs was married to Rebecca, now deceased, for 54 years and has 3 daughters, one deceased, and 7 grandchildren.
Riggs says his WWII experience was personally rewarding in many ways, but he would not want to repeat it. The changes it made in his life are profound. He also wonders if he would ever have left Black Jack, NC except for his participation in World War II.
Ritchie, Richard Stephen (Steve)
In all likelihood, there will not be another “ace” in aerial combat. General SteveRitchie is the last aviator to earn that distinction by shooting down five North Vietnamese MIG 21 aircraft in 1972.
Ritchie was born and raised in Reidsville. In high school days, he was the star quarterback on the Reidsville football team and a very good athlete. He credits Reidsville football coach George Wingfield with much of his desire and determination to succeed in life. Through a high school friend, Ritchie learned about the new Air Force Academy in Colorado and the adventures that it could offer. After graduation from high school in 1960, he received a nomination to attend the Academy and quickly accepted it, thus beginning a 39-year relationship with the United States Air Force. Ritchie retired from the Air Force reserve as a Brigadier General in 1999.
Life was rigorous at the Air Force Academy, but Ritchie believes his time there was an unmatched learning and character-building experience. Not long after arriving at the Academy in June 1960, Ritchie concluded he wanted to be a fighter pilot. He also wanted to continue to play football and “walked on” to an Air Force team that was new to collegiate ranks, the Academy having just graduated its first four-year class in 1959. The first four-year team was undefeated under legendary coach Ben Martin and ranked 10th in the nation. Ritchie had built up his strength and weight over the summer, made the team, and started as halfback his final two years on the team. In the 1963 season, Ritchie’s senior year, a very good Air Force team lost to University of North Carolina in the Gator Bowl.
After graduation, Ritchie attended flight school at Laredo TX. He graduated number one in flight school and was able to choose the aircraft in which he would receive further training. He chose the F-104 Starfighter. After training in the Starfighter, a new aircraft was coming on the scene, the F-4 Phantom, originally developed for the Navy but reengineered for Air Force duty. Ritchie went to Homestead Air Force base to learn to fly the F-4. The F-4 was a multipurpose aircraft for the Air Force. It was heavy and hard to turn in flight. However, it held the speed and climb to altitude records, could carry much armament and made a good fighter. It also left a smoke contrail that could be seen for 20 miles. On the other hand, its adversary, the Russian built MIG 21 did not leave much trail and could not be seen beyond 2 miles. At supersonic speeds, this was a distinct disadvantage to the F-4 pilot. As Ritchie comments, “Fortunately the North Vietnamese were not very accurate with their missiles.”
Ritchie volunteered for, and was assigned to, Vietnam. He flew a magnificent, brand-new F-4 to Vietnam, refueling every 45 minutes from an accompanying tanker aircraft. There were some stops along the way. The planes tanks were topped off regularly so if there were any trouble they could reach a base in the Pacific.
Ritchie arrived in Vietnam on April 1, 1968. His first night in Danang, there was an enemy rocket attack. This happened every few nights, aiming primarily for aircraft, not the service members stationed there. Ritchie lived in an old French compound built in 1954 with a high wall around it. All the service help in the compound were Vietnamese. While Ritchie was there, he noticed one day that half the Vietnamese service help was gone. He learned that the missing half were all Viet Cong – helping us during the day and fighting against us at night. A person did not go off the base at night if that person valued his life.
Captain Ritchie flew some routine missions and became qualified for night missions. On his fourth mission after being qualified as night flight leader, he was to take off at night in a raging thunderstorm. His wingman was a major flying his first night mission. At night, pilots kept in touch through radar and radio. While on the runway prior to takeoff, Ritchie and his wingman were held up, awaiting a plane coming in with battle damage from Viet Cong guerillas, incurred on their approach to the airfield. The crew of the damaged plane bailed out and the plane crashed on the airfield. It was a disturbing sight for Ritchie and his wingman preparing for his first night mission.
As soon as Ritchie and his wingman took off, the wingman radioed Ritchie that his radar had failed and he could not detect Ritchie’s aircraft. Ritchie and his wingman pressed on, but the thunderstorm caused the F-4s to be tossed about uncontrollably even with a full load of fuel and armament. It was the most frightened Ritchie had ever been in his life. Then the wingman said, “My radio is going out.” The wingman immediately went down to 1500 feet, saw the field and went in for an emergency landing. Ritchie also aborted and as he came in tracer bullets from Viet Cong guerillas passed by his cockpit. He had a heavy plane in a thunderstorm and tracer bullets flying past him. To avoid hydroplaning off the runway, Ritchie asked for the Navy arresting cable to be set up on the runway to catch his plane and control it while slowing it down. Everything worked. Ritchie, his wingman and their crewmembers were safe but weak-kneed. After that experience, Ritchie thought, “This will be a long tour of duty.”
While in Vietnam, Ritchie worked on a procedure of Forward Air Control (Fast Fac) calling in Air strikes by using F-4 jet aircraft instead of vulnerable, small, slow, piston engine observation planes. Ritchie was instrumental in the success of the program and flew 95 missions of 6-to-8-hour duration identifying targets and calling for air strikes by F-4s or B-52 bombers.
On one flight over the Ho Chi Min trail, his F-4 was hit by enemy fire. His plane shook and his right engine started vibrating. Ritchie cut back power on his damaged right engine and made it back to base. A bullet had gone cleanly through the engine and did not hit anything except rotor blades, thus the strong vibrations. If it had been an explosive shell, Ritchie would probably not have made it back. With a new right engine, his plane again flew perfectly.
In 1968, Ritchie volunteered for Top Gun school and was accepted. After graduating with honors, he stayed on for two and a half years as one of the youngest instructors in the program.
He again volunteered for combat in Vietnam and after some brief non-combat duty there, was assigned to 555 (triple nickel) Fighter Squadron flying the F-4 Phantom again. In April 1972, he flew his first mission as protective cover for a B-52 strike mission on downtown Hanoi. On May 10, 1972, Ritchie’s squadron met four MIG-21s head on. They were identified and the F-4s opened fire. Ritchie got his first kill that day. His squadron leader got two kills that day but was later shot down in the skirmish. He had always said he would not be captured so rather than bailing out and risking capture, he went down with his plane. His remains were identified six years later. His crewmember bailed out and was later rescued – an exciting story. From that point on, Ritchie led all missions over Vietnam for the 555 squadron.
Ritchie scored another kill on May 31, 1972. On July 8, 1972, Ritchie scored two more MIG-21 kills. Ritchie calls it a perfect mission. Everything worked as planned. All the training, education, communication skills and experience he had gained in the air gelled into two remarkable kills. It started when a radar control aircraft 150 miles away warned there were two bandits approaching Ritchie and that he was under attack. Ritchie could not see them but immediately turned and saw a MIG. Ritchie said, “If I had stayed on my course another 15 seconds I would not be here. I got a good radar lock on him and fired” – one kill. Ritchie went after the other MIG, got a good radar lock and fired. Two MIGs downed in one minute and 29 seconds.
Ritchie got a lot of attention after that as most thought it was only a matter of time before he would get kill number five. In Ritchie’s eyes, his four kills made him more cautious than ever because he did not want to be diverted and put another aircraft and crew in harm’s way due to seeking ace status. His first mission was to protect the flight, second to take pictures of strike damage, third, kill MIGs. He concentrated on the first two.
The mission on August 28, 1972, was one he had flown in training and taught a dozen times. His squadron was leaving North Vietnam heading southwest and met a group of MIGs heading northeast returning to base. Slightly out of range, Ritchie fired two missiles and missed. After some “right out of the book” combat aerobatics, he fired two more and one of the MIGs turned right into the path of the third missile fired. That kill was number five and Ritchie became the only Air Force ace of the Vietnam War and the last ace. The party at the officer’s club that night was one to remember.
Ritchie is one of the most highly decorated Air Force pilots having earned the Air Force Cross, 10 Distinguished Flying Crosses, Four Silver Stars and many other medals. Ritchie flew 339 missions with 800 air combat hours. He retired from the Air Force in 1974 to run for Congress on the Republican ticket at the request of Barry Goldwater. The Nixon Watergate scandal sank many Republican candidates, so Ritchie was not successful in his bid for office. He also concluded he would rather fly in combat than run for public office.
His varied career since retirement has included work with the Air Force in recruitment, motivational talks to various groups and to high school students about protecting the American market system, national defense as well as to be a positive role model to young people. Even today, he will meet someone who heard him talk a long time ago and he or she will say that his talk changed his or her life. Ritchie says, “That is worth it all.”
Shinn, Conrad “Gus”
Mount Shinn is the third highest mountain in Antarctica at 15,292 feet. It is named after Conrad “Gus” Shinn from Spray NC, the first aviator to land an aircraft on the South Pole, in connection with Operation Deep Freeze II, an Antarctic Expedition in 1956.
Some of Gus Shinn’s earliest memories are of his father’s World War I uniform, and other accessories kept in a trunk in the attic. Shinn was intrigued as his father talked of combat and the aviators with their heroics in WW I. As a youngster, Shinn would dress up in his father’s uniform, put on the gas mask and play soldier. His father and mother were always a great inspiration to him and the early exposure to things military later guided Shinn to a career as an aviator in the US Navy.
During his growing up years and into high school, Shinn followed current events and was aware of the history unfolding in Europe in the late 1930s. After graduation from Leaksville high school, Shinn entered NC State to study aeronautical engineering and felt a natural inclination to join the Reserve Officers Training Corps.
In 1942, at the end of his 3rd year at NC State, Shinn elected to join, and was accepted in, the US Navy aviation cadet program. Pre-flight training was at University of North Carolina followed by primary training at Naval Air Station (NAS) Olathe KS and advanced training at NAS Corpus Christi TX. Shinn wanted to be a multi engine pilot and it was helpful that single engine (fighter aircraft) and multi engine (transport aircraft) pilots were separated into their categories alphabetically. Shinn’s name being near the end of the alphabet put him on the multi engine path.
Shinn was commissioned an Ensign and received his “gold wings” as a naval aviator in August 1943. He went on to advanced instrument school in late 1943 and in early 1944 was assigned to VR-1 (transport squadron 1). For about six months, he was flying high priority equipment in the anti-submarine effort to east coast destinations. Shinn was transferred to the South Pacific in late 1944.
Shinn explains, “Flying in combat conditions in the South Pacific was an extreme challenge, continually flying beyond our capabilities in all kinds of weather. We were just plain lucky we did not get killed.” Shinn would fly onto an island, which was not secured yet by our forces, to deliver whole blood, and on the return, take wounded soldiers back for medical care. The lumbering R5Ds (larger transport aircraft) made tempting targets for Japanese sharpshooters. It was common to have bullet holes in the fuselage of the aircraft after one of those missions. Coming into Okinawa on one such mission, Shinn could see US Navy ships firing their big guns and Japanese kamikaze (suicide) aircraft targeting our ships – with some success. One wounded soldier being evacuated for medical care by Shinn said, “I feel safer in my foxhole than in your plane.”
Shinn was on a flying mission when he heard news of the Japanese surrender – VJ Day (victory over Japan). A Happy Day!
For six months after VJ Day, Shinn was stationed on Guam, assigned to a medical evacuation squadron flying former US prisoners of war back to the states. When that assignment was completed, Shinn was sent back to his old squadron, VR-1 at Anacostia Naval Air station in Washington DC. He was contacted by Trigger Hawkes, a friend from South Pacific days who asked Shinn if he would like to go to Antarctica with the famous Admiral Byrd as part of a secret operation – Operation High Jump. It is said the reason for Operation High Jump was to help prepare the US Navy to fight the Russians in polar conditions. Shinn enthusiastically agreed.
Operation High Jump lasted from September 1946 to May of 1947, but only 30 days were spent at Little America in Antarctica. The participants went to within 400 miles of Antarctica on the aircraft carrier Philippine Sea with six R4Ds (smaller transport aircraft) aboard. Shinn’s plane and the others flew from the deck, and it was the first time aircraft of that size had taken off from an aircraft carrier. Colonel Doolittle’s B-25 bombers, which took off from the aircraft carrier Hornet on the Tokyo raid in 1942, were smaller but heavier.
The R4Ds were also fitted with skis for snow landings, which barely allowed the wheels to protrude and roll on the deck. Shinn was the person who tested the skis and found them satisfactory for use in Operation High Jump.
Shinn’s R4D and the five others mapped about 200,000 square miles of Antarctica in 30 days. Shinn came to know Admiral Byrd well and was a great admirer of this world-famous explorer.
Shinn then returned to Washington DC to his old squadron – VR-1. In early 1949, Shinn was assigned for two years to London where he transported high profile military and civilian personnel.
From December 1951 to March 1955 Shinn was in advanced schools, flight operations at Pensacola FL and in helicopter pilot training. In March 1955, Shinn read a Navy release requesting volunteers for a new exploration initiative to Antarctica called Operation Deep Freeze. The challenge appealed to Shinn’s adventuresome spirit, and he volunteered to become part of the operation. Deep Freeze I called for the establishment of a permanent research station to support later Deep Freeze operations. The Navy’s part was to support US scientists for their part in later International Geophysical Year studies. Unfortunately, the R4Ds flown by Shinn and others did not have enough fuel to overcome the fierce winds so had to turn back. Timing issues prevented Shinn from taking any additional flights to Antarctica in Deep Freeze I. The goal of Deep Freeze II was to establish a permanent station at the South Pole.
The R4Ds had additional fuel tanks installed to give greater range. Shinn’s flight to McMurdo Sound, Antarctica was in October 1956. The weather was terrible. Shinn and his crew had on the survival suits in case they had to ditch in freezing water with 50-foot waves. Shinn knew he would die if that option came up, so tried not to think about it. Prior to Shinn’s arrival, another plane had crashed into a mountain, and everyone aboard was killed. Shinn’s first flight over Antarctica was almost a disaster. Shinn’s R4D was fitted with nineteen JATOs (jet assisted take off) attached to the fuselage, in case of trouble. Over the Executive Range of mountains, the aircraft was hit with a wind shear and airspeed dropped precipitously causing the plane to drop like a rock. A wing brushed the ground and threw up a cloud of ice crystals as Shinn fired all nineteen JATOs. The plane rose like a helicopter from this great driving force, averting disaster. Several planes were lost during the eight months duration of Deep Freeze II.
At about 3 a.m. on October 31, 1956, Admiral Dufek, the Commander of Deep Freeze, had Shinn and the crew of his aircraft; “Que Sera Sera” awakened and were told that the flight to the South Pole would take off in secret at 8 a.m. There was a bit of rivalry as to which person would land first at the South Pole, Admiral Dufek or veteran Antarctic explorer Paul Siple who had accompanied Admiral Byrd on his first expedition in 1927. Dufek won this contest.
Lights and shadows on the icy ground at South Pole made it difficult to be certain the landing was not to be in a crevasse. Shinn circled several times and finally felt comfortable enough with the lay of the land to come in safely. The passengers and Shinn left the aircraft with the engines idling, to avoid any possibility of the engines freezing at a temperature of 65 degrees below zero. All the instruments were sluggish and there was real danger of hydraulic fluid freezing which would prevent takeoff. In addition, the South Pole is at approximately 9,000 feet elevation, which adds to the difficulty of takeoff due to “thin air.”
After 45 minutes outside the aircraft, the group was ready to head back to McMurdo Sound. In preparation for takeoff, it was obvious the skis were frozen to the ground. Shinn gunned the engines, but the plane did not move. It took all 16 of his JATOs to move the lumbering aircraft into the freezing air. It was touch and go while the plane slowly gained altitude and then safely returned to McMurdo Sound. Conrad Shinn from Spray NC – the first pilot to land an aircraft at the South Pole! The best part is, Shinn was also the first to take off from the South Pole.
Shinn describes the South Pole as the most remote, windy, cold, desolate, rugged yet beautiful place on earth in his opinion. Temperatures range from 20 degrees below zero in “warm” weather to 126 degrees below zero in the coldest weather. Antarctica is one- and one-half times the size of the United States and has an 18,000 mile coastline..
Shinn remained in Antarctica for the remainder of the expedition carrying men and material for the permanent station at South Pole. He also returned the following year for Deep Freeze III doing similar work.
In mid-1958, Shinn was transferred to NAS Pensacola FL to a flight operations job, and he retired from his Navy career 4/1/1963. Shinn has remained in the Pensacola area and even now he will see Navy acquaintances browsing in the National Museum of Naval Aviation in Pensacola or visiting at restaurants and they will remember him and thank him for the leadership he displayed over the years, especially to younger aviators.
On November 10, 2006, the Museum celebrated the 50th anniversary of the South Pole landing and paid tribute to Shinn’s courage in accomplishing this aviation milestone. Shinn says he never thought about the danger. He said, “I was in the military and when our superior officer said go, we went.”
Starke, Robert J.
Bob Starke felt a sense of history while being instructed by “Lucky Lindy”, Charles A. Lindbergh, regarding maintenance on newly arrived P-51 Mustang fighters in New Guinea. Lindbergh was an aviation icon, being the first person to fly solo from the US to Europe in 1927. The instruction took place on the same Lae, New Guinea airfield from which Amelia Earhart had last taken off on her flight around the world in 1937. Earhart was never found after her takeoff from Lae. Starke was favorably impressed with Lindbergh’s friendly demeanor, his knowledge and the badly needed help he provided.
Starke’s family moved from Bozeman MT to Nutley NJ while Starke was a child. He finished high school in Nutley and worked as a draftsman for a few years after graduation. On June 3, 1942, he was drafted into the Army Air Corps and told to report the next day for departure to Fort Dix NJ for processing. The Air Corps needed new recruits desperately in 1942! He was at Ft. Dix for three days and then sent to Miami FL for physical conditioning and military basics. The Air Corps had taken over several hotels on Miami Beach. Most of the drilling, conditioning and marching were done on the beach or at a local golf course.
Within a month, he was transferred to Jefferson Barracks MO for basic training. The training was tough, and Starke was happy to get orders to Brisbane, Australia to the 40th Fighter Squadron. It was a 30-day voyage to Australia, which was the staging area for further assignment to New Guinea. He received training in aircraft maintenance in Brisbane. Starke arrived at Port Moresby, New Guinea in late summer of 1942 and became immediately involved in aircraft inspections. His airfield was located close to the enemy’s positions so there were numerous combat missions flown every day. His routine was to get up at 4 am to preflight the aircraft before the mission; wait about four hours for the mission to be completed, and then do it again. During the wait, other aircraft were maintained. There was no break from this routine and little time off. There was a war on and it was close by. It was common to cannibalize damaged aircraft for parts to repair other aircraft which were still repairable. Parts were always in short supply.
All the while, the Japanese were engaged in frequent bombing runs on Starke’s airbase, usually at night. They used “daisy cutter” bombs, which sent shrapnel low, in a wide circle from the point of detonation. It was necessary to have a foxhole outside Starke’s tent so he could literally jump out of bed and be in his foxhole in an instant. Starke recalls at one location it took 100 sticks of dynamite to blast out a foxhole in coral, deep enough for protection. While in the foxhole, it was unnerving to hear the many bombs hitting the ground and “walking” toward his foxhole. He just prayed they did not hit his foxhole.
It was frustrating to take the daily bombings so during time off, Starke volunteered on six combat missions, as a waist gunner on a B 24 “Liberator” heavy bomber. This was a way of getting back at the Japanese instead of just absorbing their bombing every day. One of the cooks also volunteered for combat missions and he shot down two Japanese aircraft. As his symbol of air combat success, he painted two Japanese planes on a frying pan he proudly displayed in the mess tent.
Our troops were making good progress against the Japanese and Starke moved up the island of New Guinea always doing the same work as crew chief on fighters and helping on bombers. It was in 1944 when the combat units received the latest fighter, the P-51 that had a British Rolls Royce engine. This fighter had metric fittings, but Starke had no metric tools and none were on the way. Charles Lindbergh was hired by North American Aviation, the builder of the fighter to help assimilate the aircraft into combat in the South Pacific and instruct the crews how to shape the tools to work on metric fittings.
Starke moved on to the Shelton Islands to a forward airstrip where he stayed for four months. While working a mapping project in one of General Douglas MacArthur’s offices, MacArthur came in late one evening and asked Starke how he was doing on the project and showed concern for his wellbeing. Starke has never forgotten that personal encounter with a military legend.
The combat missions became more frequent and work more demanding. An investigation team came to the islands, headed by Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt (wife of President Roosevelt) with five senators, concerning the delay in getting enlisted men out of combat on rotation after 18 months. Pilots were rotated out regularly based on reaching a certain number of combat missions, but the ground crews were not. Nothing came of Mrs. Roosevelt’s investigation.
Uniforms became very greasy and dirty from the constant work on aircraft. Crew Chief Starke and the other mechanics used 100-octane gasoline to dissolve the grease. Soapy water was a luxury. There was a “no smoking” sign near the makeshift laundry for good reason.
Food was terrible at the forward locations. Starke recalls eating corned beef hash for 96 consecutive meals. Packages from home did arrive occasionally but only after a delay enroute of 5 to 6 months. Any food in the packages was either stolen before the package arrived or spoiled. Periodically a B-25 bomber would go to Australia for provisions, and the men would get some fresh food. They could also request some personal items to be brought back which seemed real luxury.
The top US ace fighter pilot of WWII, Major Richard Bong was in a fighter group stationed on the same field. Starke watched with interest as Bong’s air combat prowess set a US record for kills.
The men in Starke’s outfit were a very tight knit group, all over worked and tired. It was very informal, even with the officers. There was no saluting, and all were on a first name basis. Everyone just wanted to get the job done and go home. If high-ranking officers came on an inspection tour, things became “more military.”
It was amazing to Starke that some of the natives that worked for food maintaining the runways had never seen a photograph or heard recorded music. If Starke would take a photo of any of them, the natives were afraid that their spirit had been captured, and it could kill them. It took some serious explaining to convince them this was not the case.
Early one morning, Starke was up pre-flighting a fighter and noticed a Japanese soldier crawling up on the wing with a knife in his hand. Starke released the brakes on the P-51 and swung the plane around, throwing the Japanese soldier off the wing and into the whirling propeller. This action killed the soldier before he killed Starke.
His unit was assigned to the Philippines for a few weeks and again the combat missions were heavy and work unending. There were fewer Japanese aircraft in the air because most of them had been destroyed. More missions were flown as US forces worked their way toward Japan, and less time was spent in transit to the target.
It was common for the crews and pilots to get dengue fever, malaria and fungus infections. Starke had all three health problems and probably others he did not know about. He took Atabrine tablets every day, and it turned his skin yellow. He did not get all the Atabrine out of his system until six months after he stopped taking it.
While in the combat zone, he heard Tokyo Rose daily broadcasts. She talked of home and made-up stories about girlfriends and wives being untrue while their men fought far from home. Her broadcasts did not bother Starke, but he feels it did hurt the morale of some others. All the men enjoyed her music. Several of the men Starke knew became psychological cases due to the stress, danger and morale issues faced daily. Some just disappeared, never to be seen again. He also remembers the great morale boost that a visit by Bob Hope and his troupe brought to men in the combat zone.
After the brief time in the Philippines, his unit was transferred to Okinawa. There were still many Japanese soldiers in caves on the island. Being the target of small arms fire and hand grenades was common. Starke once went up in a P-47 fighter that was configured to take a passenger by removing an auxiliary gas tank behind the cockpit. That was the most thrilling ride Starke ever had. He was part of a mission that located a camouflaged Japanese airstrip, which was later destroyed.
After VE day, (Victory in Europe) May 7, 1945, the supplies and aircraft from Europe were sent to the Pacific theater. VJ (Victory over Japan) day followed on August 15, 1945. Starke became ill with malaria at that time, which delayed his return home until October 1945. He went by plane and ship to San Francisco and by train to Fort Dix NJ, where he was mustered out of the 40th Fighter squadron. Starke feels he matured very quickly during his time in the service and is proud that he was part of the fight to save the world from tyranny.
After his time in the service, Starke worked as a Mechanical Engineer for General Electric, Bell Labs and Harris Corporation. His wife Nadia is deceased. Starke has four children, three grandchildren and one grandchild.
Tuttle, George Warren
The B-24 heavy bomber was straining all its four powerful engines to make a desperate, almost vertical, climb out of a valley in New Guinea where another aircraft had crashed a day earlier. The wings brushed the treetops but there was enough momentum to take the plane safely to altitude for the trip back to base in Hollandia, New Guinea. In the valley were other stranded aircrew members checking out the lost civilization found by a reconnaissance crew a few days earlier. Warren Tuttle remembers that narrow escape from the valley as though it were yesterday. The complete story of the rescue of the stranded crew and the lost civilization was reported in November 1945 Reader’s Digest.
Tuttle was born in Madison NC and his family moved to a newly purchased farm in Reidsville in 1934. He graduated from Reidsville High School in 1940 and worked on the family farm until he was drafted. He did not know much about the war but on December 7th, 1941, the day Pearl Harbor was attacked, some Army troops were marching through Reidsville on the way back from maneuvers and he and his friends told the troops about the attack. Tuttle knew he would be drafted eventually so continued to work on the farm. When he was drafted, he did not expect to visit thirty of the United States and fourteen foreign countries before his release from the Army.
When the draft board letter arrived in September 1942, he promptly went to Fort Bragg for his physical and tests and was assigned to aircraft engine mechanic school in Gulfport, MS. The Air Corps was so desperate for aircraft mechanics that it dispensed with normal basic training for Tuttle and his fellow trainees. After additional training on engines at Wright Patterson Air Base in Ohio he was sent to Laredo TX to a Photo Mapping Squadron. Tuttle’s job was to help map Mexico and Central America over several months using the Lockheed Vega twin engine aircraft. By this time Tuttle had been promoted to instrument specialist, which involved repair and replacement of aircraft instruments.
During a temporary tour of duty in Florida, his Commanding Officer requested two volunteers to go to Brazil for mapping duty. Tuttle agreed to go at 9:30 a.m. and was on a plane by 11 a.m. to Sao Paolo, Brazil. Tuttle’s unit was responsible for mapping Brazil but Tuttle’s time in Sao Paolo was primarily spent in refueling aircraft from 55-gallon drums and repairing aircraft instruments. The Brazilian Air Force was responsible for anti-submarine patrol off South America where many German submarines lurked. No good maps were available, and several aircraft crashed into unmarked mountains. While mapping, four planes flew side by side about one half mile apart at 20,000 feet. Literally miles of photographic film were used mapping Brazil.
While Tuttle was in Sao Paolo, he wore his Army uniform as he had not had time to obtain any civilian clothes. Sao Paolo was a hot bed of German spies. The US Army radio men were successful in locating about seventy German short wave transmitters reporting information to German intelligence. One night while walking back to his hotel in Sao Paolo, a dark limousine seemed to be following him. He stopped under a streetlight and looked at the car. One of the passengers got out and asked him if he was a US soldier. Tuttle said “Yes” and the man invited him to join them at a private bar for some refreshments. It turned out that the men who entertained Tuttle that evening were high profile businessmen including the President of Bell Telephone of South America, the President of a large Department store in Sao Paolo and the editor of the Sao Paolo newspaper. It was an enjoyable evening for Tuttle. About Christmas of 1943, Tuttle was transferred to Venezuela and started to fly regular mapping missions for several months. After his Venezuela tour of duty, he received a 20 day leave enroute to Riverside CA where his group was assigned B 24 Liberator heavy bombers to be used as mapping aircraft in the Far East. Tuttle took gunnery training in the four months he waited while pilots were being trained to fly the Liberator bombers. Tuttle’s pilot did not allow Tuttle to graduate from gunnery school for fear a newly trained and certified gunner would be taken from his crew to Europe, where gunners were needed desperately.
After this training Tuttle’s unit was transferred to Leyte in the Philippines and later, New Guinea. While in the Philippines, Tuttle took mapping flights to islands that were invasion targets for our forces, some as long as 17 hours in the air over enemy territory, thus the gunnery training. However, Tuttle never had occasion to fire on an enemy aircraft. In the Philippines Tuttle was wounded in an unusual way. A building was being torn down, and Tuttle happened to be observing it. There were many mice in the building. A man threw a knife at a mouse but missed and the knife imbedded itself on the side of Tuttle’s foot. The knife was pulled out and his foot sewn up by a doctor without benefit of any anesthetic. Fortunately, it was not a serious wound. No purple heart award was made.
While in the South Pacific, Tuttle and his fellow aircrew men listened to Tokyo Rose who played good American music as well as spewing out propaganda to attempt to destroy morale among the troops. When Tuttle’s group was transferred to New Guinea, Tokyo Rose announced it on the radio and welcomed his group to New Guinea. Her intelligence sources were very good!
It was in New Guinea that the lost civilization called Shangri-La was discovered in a remote valley. Tuttle’s aircraft was sent to find the plane that had crashed while on a reconnaissance mission over the valley. Later, Philippine workers were dropped into the valley to build a short runway. A glider was flown into the valley to land on the runway and rigging was set up to allow a C 47 transport to snatch it with the personnel who were still alive on board, out of the valley behind the C 47.
When on flying duty, Tuttle always had a certain fear while over enemy held territory. While he never shot at an enemy plane, his plane was shot many times from the ground.
One fond memory Tuttle has is of the wonderful food that his unit enjoyed. Since his unit was totally separate from the bases where they operated, the unit had its own cooks and obtained its own food from Australia. Only the best food would do and that is what he and his fellow crew members enjoyed. Tuttle was on one trip of the “Fat Cat” run to get food when a violent storm came up tossing the plane around like a rag doll. The pilot told the crew to prepare to bail out over what was either the ocean or New Guinea. Just before bailing out, which likely would have meant certain death, the storm stopped as suddenly as it began. The trip continued uneventfully from that point back to the New Guinea base.
On more than one occasion, a Japanese soldier still at large would wear a US uniform from a dead soldier and use it to sneak into the mess hall at the New Guinea base and eat from the Army chow line. Some were caught and captured in the mess hall.
On August 14th, on Leyte, while Tuttle watched a movie, shouts arose, and guns began to go off. It was the VJ day announcement. Victory over Japan! One of the men ran across a road to tell his buddy. He was hit by an Army vehicle and killed instantly.
Things happened fast after that. Tuttle was transferred to Seoul, Korea for duty and later made crew chief of the “Click and Shutter” a B-24 Photo Recon plane. He never served as crew chief though as immediately after being made crew chief, he received orders to return to the United States. When his transport ship arrived in Seattle, it was greeted by thousands of well-wishers.
After a train ride of eight days to Ft. Bragg, Tuttle was discharged on Christmas Eve, 1945. He obtained a ride to Greensboro on that bitterly cold day and then hitchhiked to Reidsville. His parents did not know he was on his way home. He stopped at Belk’s Department store where his brother worked, and his brother took him home for the great reunion with his parents after more than three years of seeing much of the world and being in harm’s way. Tuttle says he would not take anything for his experiences and the friends he made during his time in WW II.
Most of Tuttle’s career after World War II was with the NC Highway Department. Warren Tuttle and his wife Frances were married on December 25, 1946, and have lived their entire married life on the Reid School Road family property purchased in 1934 by Tuttle’s father. The Tuttle’s have one married daughter and one granddaughter.
Underwood, Howard L.
In April 1944, Howard Underwood could see the German Army was in retreat from his vantage point looking out from his waist gunner position on a twin engine B-25 Mitchell medium bomber 12,000 feet above the Italian countryside. He could almost taste the inevitable victory in Europe that would occur within a month. However, that did not diminish the effectiveness of the remaining German 88 mm anti- aircraft artillery shooting at his aircraft and trying to kill him. The German 88 was a fearsome weapon capable of firing 25 rounds a minute with extreme accuracy. Crewmembers of all our aircraft flying against the Nazis were very respectful of that weapon. It could send shells with flak so thick you could walk on it at 37,000 feet, according to Underwood.
It was a circuitous route from his birthplace on a farm in Alamance County to the Italian battlefront in 1945. Underwood graduated from high school and worked for his uncle for a while in the grocery business. He was certain he would be drafted and was not surprised to get his induction letter in late 1942. He was on active-duty January 8, 1943.
After induction at Camp Croft, he was assigned to Fort Jackson, MS and there was given an aptitude test, which indicated he would do well in the Air Corps. After the usual marching, calisthenics and classroom training at Miami Beach, FL and occasionally enjoying the warm sun and water he was issued a heavy overcoat and sent to Lincoln NB in March 1943 to be trained in aircraft engine repair. Underwood had applied to pilot training school, but his preliminary orders did not come through until he had been at Lincoln NB for 3 months. He took the physical for pilot training from Doctor Penn who asked Underwood where he was from. Underwood replied that he was from NC and Dr. Penn said, “So am I”. Underwood passed all the Pre-Flight tests, perhaps with a little help from Dr. Penn. As there were no specific openings for pilot training at that time, he was sent along with other aspiring pilots to Oklahoma A&M for college training in Physics, Chemistry and other technical courses.
Upon being assigned to San Antonio for pilot training, Underwood was put in charge of his barracks and one of the aviation students was the man to be the pilot of the B-25 bomber which Underwood was later assigned. For nine weeks, Underwood toiled in the flight-training program, and he really wanted to fly. Underwood’s transfer to Pine Bluff AR for further flight training coincided with an Air Corps cutback in pilot training, reflective of success in the air war in Europe and the Pacific. One rough landing on a training flight put Underwood out of pilot training and into radioman school. The day he washed out of pilot training there were hundreds more being washed out.
Radio school and gunnery school prepared Underwood for his combat duty to come in Italy. He learned to take a 50-caliber machine gun apart and put it together again while blindfolded with gloves on. While in combat, typically a bomber crewman is at freezing altitudes and vision could be limited due to fogged goggles or flying in darkness. Hands would freeze without gloves on.
Underwood had not been home on leave for twenty-two months and when transferred to Columbia SC to join a B-25 crew, he had 10 days leave enroute to visit his family. While home, his father was putting up hay, so Underwood requested, and was granted, an additional seven days leave to help his father.
While in Columbia he met an officer who had been an Aviation Student in San Antonio assigned to the barracks Underwood. oversaw and the officer said, “You are in my crew as of now”. Interestingly, the pilot had been one Underwood had to chastise for poor behavior while a student and now he was Underwood’s pilot and ultimately a good friend.
As radioman, Underwood had to unreel a 30-foot antenna with a 3-pound lead weight at the end from the belly of the B-25 to pick up radio signals. He could not see outside from his position. On one mission, as the plane was coming in for a landing in Columbia, the pilot did not warn Underwood that a landing was about to take place. When Underwood heard the engines cut off, he knew the landing was imminent and started to reel in the antenna, but it was too late. The lead weight flew loose at 90 miles an hour and was never found.
Underwood finished his training in December 1944 and on Easter Sunday 1945, he went aboard the Mariposa, a luxury liner, headed for Europe. About two weeks later, after a train trip from Naples, he arrived at a B-25 base at Farno, Italy. Underwood was in the air on bombing missions a few days later. While in the air on a mission to Brenner Pass in Austria, the airplane’s radio was tuned in to BBC and on April 12, he learned of the death of President Roosevelt over the B-25’s radio. It was not unusual to tune in to Axis Sally, German propagandist, and hear the names of individuals in squadrons and their targets for the day.
The view from the B-25 was excellent and Underwood could see below the massive retreat of the German army as it was taking place in April 1945. While the German troops were in disarray, the German 88 guns were in full force against the allied aircraft. In some cases, because the guns were in caves, it was necessary for small fighter-bombers to fly directly toward the caves and, in effect, throw a bomb into the cave. The 88s took their toll on aircraft and several planes were lost due to enemy fire.
Most of Underwood’s missions were to blow up railroad marshalling yards and bridges at Brenner Pass and in the Po Valley. Frequently the famed Tuskegee Airmen, a squadron made up of black pilots, accompanied Underwood’s squadron on its missions. On bombing runs, part of Underwood’s duty was to be certain all bombs released from the bomb racks properly. If they did not, his responsibility was to push them out of the rack. He could not do this with his parachute on, so it was a very dangerous activity. Fortunately, he never had to do that.
Sometimes a bombing mission was against German troops, and the plane was armed with fragmentation bombs, which were deadly against personnel. Dropping fragmentation bombs was like dropping hand grenades on the troops. On one bomb run, a plane accidentally dropped fragmentation bombs on another plane in the formation, and they exploded upon hitting the plane. Fortunately, the plane made it back to base but with some injuries to crew members.
Underwood’s last few missions were to fly over the retreating German troops and drop leaflets written in German asking them to surrender to our forces. On the first mission to drop leaflets, instructions were not good on how to do it. Before throwing the leaflets from the bomb bay doors, Underwood and his fellow crewmember took the binding from around the leaflets and tried to throw them from the plane. Due to the wind tunnel effect with the bomb bay doors open, all the leaflets flew back inside the plane, and it was a massive cleanup job picking up paper from the interior of the aircraft. This happened on more than one plane so headquarters made it clear that the propeller airflow would break the bindings of the leaflets as they were thrown out of the plane.
The food was not very satisfying at the Farno base as the crews had an overabundance of horsemeat and Spam to eat. Underwood still does not like Spam. As unsatisfactory as the military food was, the Italian people were under much poorer conditions for food. It was not unusual for Underwood and his fellow crewmembers to take extra food and give it to the Italian children through the fence surrounding the base. Boxes of food from home were especially welcome and even though the boxes might be broken and the contents a bit stale, they were still good because the airmen appreciated the ‘love” from home that was also in that box.
When the war in Europe was formally over, on May 8, 1945 Underwood did not have enough points to be released from duty and was retained in Europe for a time. Finally, he was sent home on leave and it took 10 days via Algiers, Morocco, Liberia, Ascension Island, Brazil, and Puerto Rico back to Savannah GA. Underwood’s stop at Ascension Island as a refueling point was precarious as fuel was running out and the Island was not in sight. Finally, after circling for a time, it was sighted and the plane landed.
Upon completion of his 30-day leave, the atomic bomb had been dropped on Japan, and the war was over. Underwood’s final months in the service were spent in Greensboro NC, and he found himself mustering out several of the officers he served with in Europe. Mustering out day arrived for Underwood on December 1, 1945.
After release from the service, he undertook electronic training in Chicago and eventually moved to Reidsville NC. In 1947, he established Underwood’s Radio and TV Service. He continues to operate that business 57 years later, at the same location. Underwood married the former Frances Stadler in 1947 and has a son and daughter and several grandchildren.
He appreciated the close friends he made during the war, and he remains in close contact with them. His WWII friends are still as close as brothers, even 58 years later.
Wisecup, Martin
It was a beautiful Sunday morning December 7, 1941, at Wheeler Field in Oahu, Hawaii. Martin Wisecup had risen early from a peaceful sleep and was looking forward to a good breakfast in the 78th Pursuit Squadron mess hall. Sunday breakfasts were unusual because squadron members were able to request a special breakfast of ham, eggs, bacon, pancakes, and coffee, all cooked to order. What he did not expect to have with his breakfast were the sound and fury of exploding bombs and machine gun fire from Japanese aircraft during a 7:55 a.m. surprise attack on our forces on Hawaii.
Wisecup was born in a rural farming area of Brown County, Ohio and attended a one-room elementary school. When he graduated from Manchester, Ohio high school, there were no jobs locally for unskilled new graduates, so he decided to see the world. Wisecup enlisted in the Army on October 10, 1939, and specifically requested the Army Air Corps and an overseas assignment. Fortunately, the Air Corps had an opening in Hawaii. Not long after enlisting and indoctrination, he boarded the US Army Transport “Republic” in New York and went through the Panama Canal on to Hawaii.
Upon arrival in Hawaii, he was sent on to Wheeler Field with the 78th Pursuit Squadron to take basic training as well as advanced training as an armament specialist. His specialty was maintaining aircraft machine guns, loading them with ammunition, sighting in the guns, as well as attaching bomb racks to the planes and loading them with bombs. In those days, the Ford Tri Motor transport was used to pull targets that pilots would shoot at to improve accuracy. Wisecup would reel out the target sleeves about 200 yards behind the Ford Tri Motor and reel it in when practice was finished. Each pilot had bullets in their machine guns, painted in a unique color, which would leave a mark on the target sleeve to gauge the accuracy of a pilot.
Wisecup’s quarters were in one of several long concrete buildings with a mess hall and supply offices on the first floor and an open barracks room on the second floor. He had a cot, footlocker, and a small place to hang his clothes. Each building held a squadron’s unmarried enlisted men along with their top sergeant. Officers were in separate officer’s quarters. The few married enlisted men also had separate quarters. Sports took up a lot of time in those days. Boxing and softball were especially popular. Wisecup also would make very acceptable wine for his friends using native fruits. While life in peacetime military was quiet in beautiful Hawaii, most of the men wished to see some action. That wish was granted on December 7, 1941.
On December 7, before 8 a.m., Wisecup was on his way downstairs from the second floor of his building, looking forward to a wonderful breakfast in the mess hall. On the way, he heard tremendous noise outside and thought it was US Navy pilots practicing their dive-bombing. However, the noise was too loud and sustained for that. He saw the building next to his explode and later learned several pilots had been killed while at breakfast. When he looked outside, he saw the rising sun emblem on the Japanese planes so knew it was an attack. The headscarves the Japanese pilots wore were clearly visible in the open cockpits. He heard another bomb go off close by and began to run back into the barracks to get his 45-caliber pistol. Knowing that the 1918 pistol ammunition was so old that it rarely fired well, he gave up that idea. His cot was covered with fine plaster falling from the ceiling. The door of the barracks blew off from the concussion of a bomb landing nearby and barely missed Wisecup. Wisecup went outside again and noticed at the non-commissioned officer housing, many people were outside in their bathrobes watching the unbelievable event.
Wisecup went up a slope toward Schofield Barracks to a location where some bulldozers had taken out trees and expected to get into one of the holes where tree roots had been. They were full of people, with room for no more, so Wisecup sat down with his back to a tree and from a high vantage point watched the attack in disbelief. Several Japanese planes were in the form of a big circle in the sky and were coming around repeatedly to drop bombs and to machine gun the US warplanes lined up neatly on Wheeler Field. In those days, the fuselages of some aircraft were primarily made from magnesium or aluminum, which can burn in a spectacular way. As the fires started and gasoline from ruptured fuel tanks exploded, many aircraft simply disintegrated with only the engine identifying that it had been an airplane. No guns or ammunition were in the planes so even if planes had taken off, they could not have been an effective defense against the attack.
The surprise attack was designed to destroy the US Navy big ships including aircraft carriers, as well as the fighters at Wheeler Field and bombers at Hickam Field. Fortunately for the United States, there were no aircraft carriers in the area. In about 30 minutes, the attack on Wheeler Field stopped but Wisecup could see the smoke from the Pearl Harbor anchorage rising high in the sky. After the attack, some of our B 17 bombers coming in from the west coast were misidentified and met with anti-aircraft fire from our gunners. That incoming flight of B 17 bombers, coincidentally, was part of the problem in determining whether an attack was taking place.
Wisecup’s problem was that he wanted to report to his unit but was confused because this was Sunday and on Monday, he was scheduled to report to the newly formed 73rd Fighter Squadron. Men were being told to get out machine guns for defense and to stay on guard all night for an expected Japanese landing on Oahu. No one knew the Japanese forces were already headed away from Hawaiian waters. The only available army tanks were set up in defensive positions, but they were only training tanks. A 50-caliber bullet would go completely through a training tank. As there was little official communication, the men talked among themselves regarding what they would do if a Japanese invasion came with overwhelming force. The Air Corps men agreed they would simply have to join some army unit as a rifleman or else escape to the hills around Wheeler Field and engage in guerilla warfare.
Due to the confusion, Wisecup was reported as “missing in action” to his parents. On December 8, the men were allowed to mail letters home to say they were survivors. Wisecup’s letter was not delivered to his parent’s home until mid-February.
Fighter Squadron. Wisecup finally was integrated into the 73rd and began work on the planes that were salvageable. He took it upon himself to count all the planes destroyed on the field and determined that 138 were beyond repair.
Shortly after the Battle of Midway and after several months of aircraft repair work at Wheeler Field, his squadron was sent to Midway Island. Conditions were poor on Midway. Most of the men came down with dysentery due to unsanitary conditions caused by the multitude of flies and birds. The men immediately started to build a mess hall but had no window screening. In desperation, they used mesh aerial target practice sleeves as screening to keep the flies out of the mess hall. It was very expensive screening.
Midway was a base for anti-submarine patrols and as a refueling stop for planes bombing Wake Island to retake it. Wisecup was active as a support person to accomplish those goals. After about 6 months on Midway, Wisecup returned to Hawaii and continued in his armament work until mid-1944 when his unit was carried to Saipan on an aircraft carrier as part of a huge convoy. The convoy arrived at Saipan in late June 1944 but before the island was secure. The convoy anchored offshore and that night had a submarine scare. All ships were blacked out but after “all clear” sounded many of the men came up on deck and lit cigarettes, which in total darkness were bright enough to lead a Japanese kamikaze plane toward the ship, narrowly missing the ship Wisecup was on, but hitting the next ship. The next day, Wisecup was told to go ashore with some men and was successful in capturing an inland airfield so planes could leave the carrier and be based ashore for action; one of the few times Air Corps men were engaged in ground combat. The island was devastated and Wisecup’s group was dodging shells from the Japanese as well as shells from our ships. In capturing the island, over 30,000 Japanese troops were killed. The United States had over 16,000 casualties, 13,000 of whom were Marines.
After being in Saipan for four months, the 73rd was transferred to Iwo Jima for more combat duty. During this time, Wisecup received a 30-day furlough and returned home to get married. In mid-1945, Tech Sergeant Wisecup received orders to go back to the states after 5 years in the Pacific. He objected, but to no avail, and was sent to Florida as a support person in the training of bomber pilots. When the war was over in August of 1945, Wisecup was discharged from Camp Atterbury, Indiana and went on the GI Bill of Rights to Berea College in Ohio to major in Agriculture. After graduating, he worked teaching agricultural skills to war veterans. Wisecup later bought a farm and operated that until 1971 when he went to work for the Department of Housing and Urban Development as a Housing Management Supervisor. Now divorced, a transfer brought him to Greensboro in 1974, and he retired from HUD in 1992.
Today, Wisecup has four sons and two daughters living across the country and he spends time visiting them and his grandchildren as well as maintaining his 11-acre farm in Reidsville. He still makes a great homemade Elderberry wine!
He is proud to have served his country but is also deeply saddened due to many friends having been killed during the war.