[bobbysocks]

pineapple af pilots cont......

Major Jim Tapp, 78th Squadron:
When we started into the target area we were flying a neat squadron tactical formation. As we began engaging enemy aircraft, we broke down to flights pretty much independent of one another. Now, as we departed Japan, there we were (the 78th) all together again. That really amazed and pleased me. We had all our pros on that mission. As the P-51 pilots left Japan they returned to the discipline of cruise control. Auxiliary tanks long since dropped, they had been flying and fighting on fuselage tanks for some 50 minutes. Many were into the reserve supply of 184 gallons in the internal wing tanks, and with Iwo Jima over 600 miles away, the contest to conserve fuel engrossed them. It was a hopeless exercise for one young pilot.

First Lieutenant Frank Ayres, 47th Squadron:
By the time Sammy Powell and I started heading out to the RP, I was pretty sure I couldn't make it home, because my fuel gauges were going down so fast. I didn't say anything about it until we rejoined John Piper and Joe Brunette. When I realized that I couldn't make it back to Iwo Jima, I got the shakes for a minute and (this may sound like I was ready for a "Section 8") I heard a voice saying, "Don't worry, you will be alright." I was totally relaxed from then on. Over the years I have thought back to that time and thought how close I felt to my Maker - it was an eerie experience and, if that is how our good Lord works, I wish I could experience it again. By then, Piper was excited and kept saying, we'll get you home, Frankie," and I just said, "I know it," and really believed it. The B-29 pilot (Cloudhopper Charlie) told me to set my power for max range and he would adjust his power to keep me in formation so I never had to reset my throttle. Two hundred miles short of Iwo Jima, Ayres' fuel gauges went to empty and the B-29 advised him that they should be near the station of an ASR destroyer, code named Warcloud.

As we approached the area where Warcloud (DD Cassin) should be, we had to let down into the overcast. The B-29 couldn't contact Cassin by radio but we started letting down. Just as we broke out of the clouds at about 50 to 100 feet, the navigator said, "Warcloud should be straight ahead," and there it was! I broke away, buzzed the DD about mast height and jettisoned my canopy to let them know I was in trouble. Visibility was very low and there were at least 20 foot waves and strong winds. I unfastened my safety belt, rolled the trim tab forward and climbed to 2,000 feet at approximately 180 mph. When I reached 2,000 ft I half rolled to the right and as soon as I stopped the roll the wind sucked me out. All I knew about bailing out was to pull the D ring to open the chute. Never had a briefing or any training.

When I cleared the plane, I pulled, and the D ring and two cables to the chute pins came out. My first thought was, "My gosh, you've broken it!" I didn't know the whole assembly came out. I must have been sprawled out with legs spread because the next thing I knew the chute came through my legs and I flipped. Being in the soup is like no place else - I heard my plane go off and hit the water and then there was a total silence. I slid back into the seat and unfastened the leg straps and held onto the chest strap latch. I thought you just floated down easily and that when my feet hit the water, I would just unfasten the chest strap and slide into the ocean. Imagine my surprise when I broke out of the overcast and was in the water before I could do anything. I went so deep in the water I was at the point that if I didn't surface soon, I wouldn't make it. I had taught Boy Scout life saving and had taken the Instructor Survival Course at Hickam, so I considered myself a good swimmer and I think that is what saved me. When I finally surfaced, the wind had caught my chute and it started dragging me across the water like an aquaplane.

The leg straps went through a slot in the life raft seat pack and that's where it stuck so I couldn't get free. My Mae West strap was fastened to the life raft, so I pulled myself by that up to the raft pack and up to the shrouds while I was skimming from wave to wave. Finally I was able to spill my chute. Some time later, the Cassin appeared - I could see them one moment and then they would go behind a wave. They spotted my chute floating on the water and then me. They started to come alongside me and threw ropes with weights on the end for me to catch, but they would sink before I could grasp one, so then they would reverse engines and try again. I didn't want to get too close to them because of the high waves and danger of being sucked into the screws. Finally, I yelled into the wind, "Throw me a ring buoy." The skipper thought I was in a panic, couldn't hear what I was saying. A sailor with a bright bushy beard dived overboard with a rope around his waist and swam out to me and grabbed me by the arm. They reeled us in like big fish. As we approached the rope ladder on the port side, one moment the waves had us almost under the ship and the next you were above the rail. On one of the "ups" someone grabbed me by the back of my flight suit and lifted me right on deck. Until then I felt perfectly calm and under control, but when I started to walk, my legs turned to rubber and they helped me to the ship's doctor's cabin.

By 1430 the P-51s had returned to base, including Charlie Heil, who had done a solo escort to Nagoya with a rough engine. Three B-29s had been lost over Tokyo, two to AA and one a victim of a Ta-Dan bomber. Two P-51s and one pilot had been lost but XXI Bomber Command and Seventh Fighter Command were elated with overall mission results as were the participants. The fighters, while performing their escort job to near perfection, had combined to claim 21-6-6 over Japanese attackers as substantiated by witnesses and gun camera film. It was a mission of historic achievement considering its length and duration, and prompted an award of the Distinguished Unit Citation to both 15th and 21st Groups.

However, unlike most historic events, this was not a once in a lifetime effort. Plans were immediately laid for the next VLR mission. They had to repeat the feat of flying and fighting 1300 miles from their base another 50 times before war's end, under conditions judged so arduous that 15 VLR missions had tentatively been established as the goal for completion of an individual combat tour. Along with the statistical success of the first VLR mission the pilots had a dual sense of humility and deep self-satisfaction.

First Lieutenant Hank Ryniker, 47th Squadron:
Over Tokyo, there were planes all over the sky. We (our flight) saw 10 or 12 enemy planes. Gave chase to a couple, all of us got in some bursts - may have made some hits. Cameron, number three man, was very low on gas so we didn't chase too much - he landed with five gallons! I was scared - just plain fool scared and I think it was justified. Not so much from the enemy, but from being so far from home, limited (very) gas and just one old engine turning that fan up front. Logged seven hours, 15 minutes and my rear end is so sore I can't sit down. Had interrogation, movies taken and a party thrown by fighter command -1 was so tired, I slipped out early. Come what may, I've seen combat, seen the enemy and I've been over Tokyo so everything has been worth it.

A field order for the next VLR mission looked like a repeat of the first - escort 73rd Bomb Wing to Tokyo, takeoff at 0800, 12 April, 1945. The similarity ended there. The mission went badly from takeoff as a sudden wind change caused Captain Sam Powell to ground loop his fully loaded P-51. Second Lieutenant Ralph N. Heintz made an emergency landing after a panel under his engine was blown off. At departure time on Field Number 2 there was a wind change and the 21st Group had to taxi to another runway, wasting precious fuel and getting off late. Their B-29 navigators left the assembly point on schedule, however, and the Group had to chase them for some distance. The last squadron to take off, the 531st, estimated that they would burn too much fuel catching up and turned back. Together the two groups mustered just 82 aircraft.

16 April 45, P-51s attacked aircraft and installations at Kanoya airfield, Kyushu.
At the target, two squadrons flew diversionary and protective high cover at 16,000 feet, while two squadrons went into the target at a minimum altitude to strafe. Another squadron flew medium altitude cover for VWB 612 Marine PBJs which made a rocket attack coordinated with the fighter sweep. No enemy airborne aircraft were sighted until after retirement. When several were seen a few miles to the north and too far to follow and attack. Enemy losses of aircraft on the ground-were undetermined. Four of our aircraft and two of our pilots were lost. A FBJ was lost and 2 crew members are listed as missing. These missions were followed during the ensuing months of April, May and June by 22 additional VLR Missions, 14 of which were effective. The air echelon of the 506th Fighter Group assigned to the Twentieth Air Force and attached to VII Fighter Command for-administration and operational control, began to arrive on Iwo on 11 May. Their first tactical mission was flown against the Bcnins on 18 May and 53 aircraft were airborne on their first VIR Fighter Strike May 28th on Kasumigaura airfield.

First Lieutenant Hank Ryniker, 47th Squadron
"Of all things!! All of us who returned yesterday because of engine trouble, had to meet a Group board who determined whether or not it was justified. The armchair strategists who sit behind their armor plated desks thought the pilots might be goofing off evidently. I've got a dozen missions each one certainly at risk to my life, but if they think I'll fly an airplane over 1,200 to 1,300 miles of open water that my experience of nearly 1,000 hours says isn't airworthy, they are mistaken. I like at least a 50-50 chance and I'll not reduce those odds unless it's a damn site more important than some ranking officer's reputation."



By the end of May, Twentieth Air Force had assembled sixteen B-29 groups in the Marianas, and the strategic offensive against Japan was being delivered in four hundred planes, sledgehammer blows. Earlier low level night raids had been effective, but costly, so LeMay reverted to high altitude daylight missions, attacking Yokohama on 29 May.

Three hundred miles from Iwo Jima the familiar front appeared before 15th and 21st Groups sent as escort. However, this one seemed not to be anchored in the ocean, so the squadrons let down to 2,000 feet and passed under the weather. Five hundred miles from base, just 100 miles short of Honshu, 20,000 feet over Hachijo Jima, 101 Mustangs rendezvoused with 454 Superforts and the great fleet proceeded three hundred miles from Iwo Jima the familiar front appeared before 15th and 21st Groups sent as escort. However, this one seemed not to be anchored in the ocean, so the squadrons let down to 2,000 feet and passed under the weather. Five hundred miles from base, just 100 miles short of Honshu, 20,000 feet over Hachijo Jima, 101 Mustangs rendezvoused with 454 Superforts and the great fleet proceeded toward Yokohama. From the IP to the target Japanese fighters lanced their way through the bomber stream displaying aggressive tactics not witnessed since early April.

Major Jim Tapp, CO, 78th Squadron
My squadron was level with the 29's and a couple of miles out front...I was flying a new aircraft with a K-14 computing gunsight. We had no chance to train with it... From our vantage point we could see fighters all over the place ahead. Then they started in and we took them head-on. The first one broke below us. I found two big problems: One, the new sight was not easy to use and two, the firing pin springs in the six 50s had taken a permanent set. Four guns failed to fire, one fired a few rounds and quit, and I was left with one gun for the rest of the mission. Since we were taking mostly head-on passes, I had a feeling of deep futility. I must have made over twenty passes wishing for my own airplane, the old N-9 gunsight and six good machine guns. We were effective, however, in that the Japanese seemed willing to break off their attacks on the B-29s and engage us.
One of them, a Zeke 52, broke early and turned ahead of us. We were closing on him, of course, and about 10 to 15 degrees off his tail. I was able to manage the sight and the one gun did its job. Incendiary strikes were seen in the wing root area and he caught fire.

First Lieutenant Bob Roseberry, 78th Squadron
"It's one of those days I should have stayed in bed. When Major Tapp gave the order to drop wing tanks both of mine refused, cutting down my speed. We got involved with some Jacks. Tapp fired on one and when it dove past us my wingman and I rolled over and went down after it. During this time a Jap fighter made a pass at us and apparently scored several hits on my gas tanks or a fuel line. I then realized that I was all by myself over Japan with two wing tanks that refused to come off and a slightly used P-51. My wingman had lost me in the clouds and the squadron had turned out to sea."

Second Lieutenant Leon Sher, 47th Squadron
I was tail end Charlie and we were jumped by Tojos. We scissored too soon and I got hit with two or three 20 mm shells in the wing and flap, another through the fuselage below the tail and one shattered the canopy and passed between my legs. Fortunately, they broke off. I had lost some flap area and the stick was fluttering."



Aces on both sides were up this day as near 150 Japanese fighters tore at the great formation, some displaying dazzling acrobatics. Captain Todd Moore was distracted by a lone Zero on the tail of a P-51 amid the 45th Squadron. To distant to intervene, he watched as Sadaaki Akamatsu, a legendary Japanese ace, shot down Rufus Moore and sped on with seeming impunity through the escort.

Captain Todd Moore, 45th Squadron
If he had been an American he would have been awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor.

Second Lieutenant Jack Wilson, 531st Squadron
"He made us look like a bunch of truck drivers."

Moore had himself shot down two Jacks and a George in a series of savage actions, and as the battle waned he played the tourist.