[bobbysocks]

the south pacific Jack Cook

After our training mission at Lae, we flew a new B-24 to Biak, a Dutch-held island near the "head" of New Guinea. Biak was a huge supply depot for the Allied Forces. We were there a few days and all cash transactions were in Dutch guilders. We had to exchange our dollars for guilders before making any purchase. While at Biak we received our assignment to the 22nd Bomb Group which was located on Palau Island in the Pelelieu Group.

We departed Biak for Palau on our first solo flight over water. We were given maps of the Pacific Ocean and the radio frequency of a homing beacon located on Palau. I can assure you that nothing focuses your attention more than flying over open water, trying to find a small chain of islands, with a "green" navigator providing directions and a radio homing frequency you hope is valid and operating. As it turned out, the heading provided by my navigator, and the heading provided by the radio beacon (when we got within range) was about a ten-degree variance. My co-pilot, Rick, and I discussed this variance for about two minutes, and elected to go with the radio beacon. Had we stayed with the navigator's heading we would have missed the islands.

After landing at Palau, and reporting to Group Headquarters, we were assigned to the 33rd Squadron. Our squadron commander turned out to be Major Albert Hutchinson who was on his third tour of combat duty. We were shown to our tent quarters and found our way around the area locating such necessities as the mess hall, latrine, operations and other facilities.

From Palau our group was supporting the invasion of the southern Philippine Islands by land forces led by General MacArthur. After the ground forces secured Samar and Leyte in the Southern Philippines, our group moved to Samar. During this time I was flying as a co-pilot as part of the squadron indoctrination process. No pilot was allowed to fly, as first pilot, in combat until he had satisfied the squadron commander as to his abilities. Also, during this time, I learned that my navigator and bombardier had requested they be removed from my crew, alleging I was an unsafe pilot. I likely flew additional missions as co-pilot because of their allegations. When I was released to fly as first pilot, I received a replacement navigator and bombardier. All other crew members remained.

From Samar our group supported the invasion of Luzon and the northern portions of the Philippines. After MacArthur's forces secured Luzon our group moved to Clark Field, about 50 miles north of Manila. We used our B-24s as transport planes and hauled much of our squadron equipment from Samar to Clark field. Heavy gear, such as trucks and jeeps, was hauled by sea transport. Since telephone communications were not in place during the early days of the move, it was standard operating procedure to fly over the squadron tent area at 1000 feet, "razz" the props, and the squadron would send trucks to the airfield to pick up the incoming equipment. On one flight I decided to fly lower than 1000 feet and give my buddies a louder notice of my arrival.

I flew along the edge of the tent area about 10 feet above the ground at top speed (around 200 miles per hour) and made a beautiful left climbing turn. As I climbed to around 1000 feet I looked back over my shoulder and noticed two tents had blown from the prop wash. My momentary joy quickly faded.

I proceeded to the landing field and as I taxied to a stop on the ramp area, Major Hutchinson cam roaring up in a jeep. He was dressed only in his undershorts, tennis shoes, a ball cap, and he was hopping mad. It turned out that one of the tents was Major Hutchinson's, and he was taking a nap as I flew by. He gave me a thorough "chewing out" and told me to report to him in the squadron area. After further lecturing in his tent he gave me additional punishment as Duty Officer for four consecutive days. This meant I had to spend my nights in Squadron Headquarters (awake) monitoring the phones and maintaining contact with Group Headquarters. I also had to fly my regularly-assigned missions. I did not get much sleep during those four days. I did not "buzz" the tent area again.

About fifty years later I found Major Hutchinson's address through a group newsletter, and wrote him. I introduced myself as the one who had "buzzed" the tent area at Clark Field many years ago. He answered that he remembered the incident quite well. Unfortunately, he passed away shortly thereafter from massive cancer. I would have enjoyed visiting with him about some of the antics I and other pilots perpetrated during our tours of duty. He later promoted me to Flight Leader and I had the honor of leading the Squadron and Group on several missions.

Some flying antics by other pilots may be of interest. While the group was stationed at Palau one pilot decided to entertain his buddies by "buzzing" the beach. He flew a few inches too low and cooped some sand into the bomb bay of the B-24. His flight engineer told him about the sand, so he proceeded a short distance off shore and flew low enough to scoop up sea water to flush out the sand. The combination of sand and salt water in the cables and other mechanisms resulted in the airplane being scrapped. Another incident happened after we moved to Clark field. The peasant rice farmers used bamboo trees to mark the boundaries between their rice paddies. Bamboo is a tough, fibrous plant that will not easily break. One afternoon a pilot was having some fun "buzzing" the local rice paddies, when he saw a farmer with his water buffalo plowing the field. He focused on the farmer and forgot to pull up in time to clear the bamboo. When he landed at Clark Field, bamboo was impeded in the nose, wings and engine nacelles. The airplane had to be scrapped.

Each pilot took his turn performing local engineering flights. This happened when a new engine was installed, or other major maintenance was performed, and the airplane was tested before sending it on a mission. It was my turn, this particular day, and as I was being briefed by the line chief, he mentioned that three or four infantry GIs standing nearby wanted an airplane ride. I said, "Sure." Since a new engine has been installed on this plane, I asked the line chief if it would be OK to feather the engine on take-off. He said, "Yes. In fact, it would be a good test of the feathering system."

We feathered the engine at about the time we lifted off and continued the climb on three engines. After a few minutes we started the engine and continued to local flight. We were to fly for about an hour to thoroughly check all the systems. During this time, my co-pilot, Rick Giannarelli, asked how slow a B-24 would fly. I replied I didn't know, but we could find out. We slowed the aircraft, dropped wing flaps and landing gear, and were mushing along in a nose-high attitude. Rick was watching the airspeed and I was waiting for the signs of a stall. All of a sudden the plane fell off in a spin to the left, and we made about one and a half turns, losing about 1500 feet before I could recover. To this day I can't remember how slow we were going. Soon it was time to return tot he field. We landed and taxied to the parking area. After shutting off the engines, I noticed those infantry GIs off to the side, kissing the ground. They obviously had more of an airplane ride than they anticipated. Unusual things can happen when B-24s are flown by fun-seeking pilots in the 20-to-24 age bracket.

Another unusual incident sticks in my memory. It was customary to send a single aircraft to the next day's target area to gather weather information and to harass the enemy. I thought it unusual that this crew wore their combat boots, had their pistols and canteens on their web belts, and were fully dressed in combat fatigues and flight jackets. We usually flew in very casual clothes, such as shorts and tennis shoes. Our concern changed to worry when their plane failed to return from their mission over China. Three weeks later the entire crew returned, and we learned they had bailed out over China to "test" the escape methods established to recover downed American airmen. They each had a barracks bag filled with many Chinese "souvenirs", some looked quite valuable.

During all this "fun" activity, we continued to fly our assigned missions, and each crew flew on a schedule of about every other day. From Clark Field we regularly bombed Formosa and mainland China. On one occasion, I led a squadron detachment to the island of Palawan, in southern Philippines, and from there we bombed Japanese airfields along the west coast of Borneo. We flew four missions on that assignment, and since the missions were about 13 hours long, we had to carry extra fuel in bomb bay tanks and a reduced bomb load. We bombed from low altitude, at 5000 feet, and could feel the concussion from the bombs as they detonated. On one of our Borneo missions, a plane was hit and was unable to return to home base. The pilot made a belly landing on the beach and a Navy Catalina amphibious aircraft picked the crew up. As I recall, the crew did not suffer any serious injuries.

A P-38 fighter outfit was stationed at the airstrip on Palawan, and they used to show off by flying over the runway, in formation, and peeling off to land. As our B-24 squadron returned from our last mission, I had our planes form an "echelon right" formation and approached the runway at an altitude of about 50 feet. As I crossed the threshold, I pulled my plane in a steep climbing left turn, and each plane followed in sequence. The crews on the ground said it was the greatest show they had ever seen. The P-38 pilots were unable to top our little act. Morale and esprit de corps were especially high in our outfit.

Weather systems were a continual factor during our flight operations. Major Hutchinson required each pilot to maintain instrument flight proficiency by scheduling regular training flights in the local area. Captain James F. Rock was our instrument flight instructor, and although he was an excellent instructor, he had an abrasive, superior attitude and was universally disliked by all the pilots. In addition to instrument flight, he would usually include "engine out" practice and other emergency procedures during an instruction period.

His usual format was to start with the "student pilot" making a series of turns at a 30 degree angle of bank. Then the same series at a 45 degree angle of bank, and at a 60 degree angle of bank. In order to maintain constant altitude in a steep turn, the B-24 required a lot of back pressure on the control column. Rock would never allow us to use both hands, and this placed considerable strain on the left arm. He insisted we always keep our right hand on the throttle controls. Our instruction was performed "under the hood", that is, the windows were covered with colored plastic and the students were wearing contrasting glasses that made the windows appear black. We could not see out. Then Capt. Rock would have the student repeat the series of turns with certain flight instruments covered. Soon we would be flying using needle, ball, airspeed, and altimeter. Capt. Rock was seldom pleased with our performance.

On one mission, I was grateful for the instruction received from Capt. Rock. Ours was a single ship mission to perform weather recon, and to bomb Japanese barracks near Canton, China. We encountered a broad weather system off the coast of China and had to penetrate it to get to the target, as well as return. While in the weather system on the return flight, I noticed the vacuum gauge was reading "zero". This meant most of our flight instruments were unreliable. I immediately started flying by "needle, ball, airspeed and altimeter", and we passed safely through the weather front. Due to Capt. Rock's instruction we made a safe landing at Clark Field, rather than becoming another statistic. Thereafter, I was never reluctant to fly training missions with Capt. Rock. My last information concerning Capt. Rock was that he was suffering from Alzheimer's disease. I am not sure he still lives.

Another interesting part of combat was formation flying. After take-off we would form on the lead ship and proceed to the target. Our average mission was 10 hours, so this provided a lot of time to sharpen our skills. My co-pilot, Rick, and I established the schedule of flying 30 minute shifts. During our early missions our skill level was not that great and we had to work extra hard to keep a good position, but after several missions we noticed an improvement. After climbing to altitude and establishing cruising speed, the lead aircraft would rarely change power settings. Theoretically, all other aircraft in the formation should be able to do the same. Not so, at least with low-skilled pilots and very cumbersome aircraft. At the end of our early missions, both Rick and I would be soaked with perspiration from the exertion of formation flying.

After several missions, we had each refined our technique to the point where we could fly our shift by making a few minor power adjustments. We soon became expert at the art of formation flying, and would not be "worn out" after a mission.

One more incident regarding formation flying. A new replacement pilot had been assigned to me for this particular mission. He was a captain, I was a first lieutenant, and he had been a B-24 instructor pilot prior to coming overseas. I informed him of my practice of the 30-minute schedule while in formation, and he accepted. After take-off and once we had formed on the lead ship, I gave him the controls. His skill level was the same as I had experienced early in my combat flying. It came time for my 30 minute shift. I quickly stabilized the aircraft as to speed and position, and flew with much less effort than the captain. Then it was his turn again. The same thing happened all over again. He was working extra hard to maintain speed and position. All during the mission he struggled and then watched me smoothly handle the ship. After our landing he stated, "I have instructed for over a year, but I have never seen, or even believed, a B-24 could be flown in that manner." I accepted his compliment.