I checked the bags in at the depot and the two girls and I went up to the cafe on the corner of Eighth and Phillips Avenue for a cup of coffee. It tasted like varnish and there were a lot of bums hanging around in there drinking beer but it was the last few moments with some of the things a guy holds dear and so it held fond memories. We went to the depot and I boarded the train. The porter took me to my berth #10 and I had just time to raise the shade as we pulled out and see Deane and Peggy standing by the little Dodge. I'll still be able to see that sight till the day I die.
I went to bed immediately - having a hard time going to sleep as there was too much on my mind - I felt just like I'd lost something very precious to me. I don't believe I got any sleep until we were through Mankato, Minnesota and then it seemed like a very brief time before the porter called that we were pulling into St. Paul. I got up and went to the men's room, shaved and when we pulled into Minneapolis I was ready to leave the train. I took a taxi to the Curtis Hotel as the Home Office had informed me previously that there would be room reservations arranged at that hotel. However, there wasn't but there was a note there from Paul Hatlestad to be up at the plant at 8:00 AM.
It was 7:30 AM so I checked in my bags and got some breakfast, shoes shined and then went out to Fourth Avenue to catch a street car to the plant. Who should I meet first as I stepped out of the elevator on the 6th floor of Aero Division but the man who was to be my boss - Mr. Claude Smith. "Hello Herb, glad you're here - looks like they are going to get us out on the noon plane for Frisco - Hatlestad and Dave McDonald are talking with priority board now." We walked down to Hatlestad's office and I was greeted with, "Christ I'm glad your here - we really have been sweating you out boy - too bad we had to call you in so soon."
I secured my clearance, army orders and a hundred other things. I didn't have my uniform on so Claude Smith gave me his room key at the Nicollet and I grabbed a taxi at the plant - dropped off at the Nicollet after picking up my bags at the Curtis. I had a good bath and then Hatlestad called that I could relax a bit as the priorities came thru and we'd leave on the 9:00 PM plane. I remember I sat down in my shorts and smoked a cigarette. Smith came all in a hurry and when I told him we'd be leaving on the 9:00 PM plane instead of at noon. He was very happy. "Herb, I'm going to wash up a bit and then you and I are going downstairs to the Jolly Miller bar and have us a damn good drink." It was the first moment in a very hectic time that I really felt somewhat relaxed. Also, it was the first time I'd worn my uniform in public and I naturally felt very conspicuous.
We went back to the plant briefly in the afternoon to get our tickets on the airlines to Frisco, last minute instructions, and to say goodbye to the fellows. I remember Smith said, "Well fellows, if I can get plenty of whiskey and cigars I'll get along. I don't give a damn where they send me." So amid the farewell comments of the men and the whistles of the office girls, Smith and I walked down the hall from the home offices to the elevator and were off to the wars.
It was 2:30 PM so we went down to Smith's room in the Nicollet - packed our bags and had the hotel porter bring up a scale and weigh them. Our excess baggage cost $85 a piece for us from Minneapolis to Frisco. We then went up to town to do some shopping - I bought a good jack knife, sewing kit and other incidentals. About 5:00 PM we ran into "Swannie" Peterson in the Nicollet. Both Smith and I knew him as he was chief design engineer of the Chicago plant. We had a good drink in the bar on Swannie then at 6:00 PM we went into the Minnesota Terrace for dinner. We saw part of the floor show then had to leave as we were to catch the taxi for Wold Chamberlain airport at 8:30 PM.
We arrived there about 9:00 PM and weighed in and checked our tickets. Smith and I went outside for a few minutes to watch the activity on the airport. I looked over at the Minneapolis Honeywell hanger where I'd had six weeks of schooling - thought I sure never realized then that a little over a year later I'd be heading for the Pacific. The gal announced "Passengers on flight 9 board plane - check your passage with hostess." "This is it - goodbye Minneapolis", said Smith. We filed into the plane found our seats, and then took off on the northeast runway heading out over the city.
The air was bumpy and it was raining. We were in a two engine C-47 commercial of Midcontinent Airlines. Cute little brunette hostess in gray uniform. We arrived in Sioux Falls airport at about 10:45 PM and there was a 15 minute stop. I got out even though it was raining and I looked up toward Chester where my loved ones were. I tried to send some kind of a message to Peggy by mental telepathy. Funny - I was still worried about how Peggy & Deane had got home in the rain the night before with that bum windshield wiper.
We took off from Sioux Falls about 11:00 PM and landed at Sioux City 40 minutes later. I wasn't much inclined to do any sleeping & neither was Smith as the air was quite rough that night. Smith sat telling me his life history. We landed in Omaha about 12:30 AM and there we had a 2 1/2 hour wait for the west bound United Airline plane. We checked in our bags and tickets at the desk and there we saw a sign over the door stating that there was a Red Cross canteen across from the terminal for all service men. Smith said, "that sure as hell includes us", so over we went.
There were three ladies and they served us a very delicious lunch - coffee, hamburgers, potato salad, and pie alamode. Smith said to the ladies, "That's the first time in my life I've ever received anything from the Red Cross and I sure do thank you ladies." They said we could lay down in the lounge and sleep if we wanted to and they would call us at 2:30 AM but as exhausted as I was I had no inclination to sleep and neither did Smith. Smith had flown from Wright Field to Minneapolis on the day before I'd arrived in Minneapolis so he was tired as me.
Finally the west bound airliner that we were to ride from Omaha to San Francisco arrived and we "bumped" off a couple of civilians by having higher priorities. We boarded a C-47 commercial plane same type as we'd flown to Omaha from Minneapolis. The hostess was a blond and wore a blue uniform.
As we boarded the plane we both noticed there were a lot of foreign looking people aboard. I imagined they were heading for the United Nations conference in Frisco and I was right in my assumption. I sat next to the window and Smith next to the aisle. He called my attention to the couple sitting across from us - the lights were dim but we noticed that they were sort of dark skinned and quite nicely dressed. The lady was very pretty I thought but she was jabbering in a foreign tongue and was giving the man hell constantly about something.
The air was very smooth and those lovely adjustable seats in commercial airplanes surely were conducive to sleep. I really went to sleep in earnest. As we neared the mountains, my sleep was interrupted occasionally by the rough air. We let down at about 4:30 AM to the airport near Cheyenne, Wyoming. Smith knew this airfield quite well as he'd spent a three month assignment there in '43 with the Modification Center. We left Cheyenne after about a 20 minute stop. I went to sleep in earnest and didn't wake up until the hostess started putting my safety belt on. We were coming into Salt Lake City. It was day light and we had a beautiful view of the lake, salt flats and the mighty mountains surrounding it. Having been asleep, my ears were all plugged up and I did a lot of yawning and swallowing to open them again.
We set down at about 6:15 AM for a 20 minute stop. Smith being an ardent cigar smoker would light up a stogie as soon as he'd get out of the plane and then cut the fire off with his knife before boarding the plane as cigar smoking is not permitted in flight. We were sitting on a davenport in the Salt Lake City terminal waiting to be called back to the plane and Smith was sitting beside a cute blond. Suddenly he turned to her and said, "Lady, does my cigar bother you? - you know lady that you can't be particular about cigars these days."
After leaving Salt Lake the hostess served us a very delicious breakfast. We were over mountainous country constantly from here on. Our next stop was Reno, Nev. As we boarded the plane here again Smith asked the hostess who the couple was sitting across from us. We found out to our surprise that they were the King Farouk and Queen of Egypt. Here we had been sitting across from royalty.
We were soon over the most beautiful country I've ever seen - the Sierra Nevada Mountains with those beautiful snow capped peaks - then beautiful Lake Tahoe. That is positively the most beautiful and marvelous scenery I've ever seen from the air.
We landed at Sacramento Air Field and then headed for Frisco. I looked out the window for my first glimpse of the Pacific Ocean but there was a very heavy fog bank out from Frisco as we came in and I could only see the shore. We flew directly over the southern part of the city - it was pretty as most of Frisco's houses are of a white and light color and hilly and close together. I could see both of the bridges, Alcatraz, Treasure Island. We let down and came directly over the bay (the Frisco airport bordered right on the bay). We landed and were astonished to see a large group of newspaper photographers - not for us - but they made the Egyptians stand by the plane while they snapped pictures.
We finally located a taxi and then set out for the Sir Francis Drake Hotel where we had reservations. The taxi driver cussed - grunted and groaned when he lifted our luggage. He commented to Smith that he must have a case of whiskey in his B-4 bag and Smith said, "Cabby, I sure as hell wish it was." Much to our delight Mr. Elton Richardson the Honeywell Western Divisional Manager was at the hotel to meet us, together with Toby Tuthill and Irving Sanderson - who were going overseas with us.
We showered, shaved and cleaned up and then the five of us went down to a restaurant where we had a lovely dinner - I had shrimp cocktail and lobster and it was very delicious. There were lots of foreign looking people in the hotel lobby. They wore badges signifying they were delegates to the United Nations conference. God I was tired. We, Smith and I, went up to the room and slept from about 2:00 PM to 6:00 PM. Then Elton Richardson called us saying that he could get tickets for the stage show "Desert Song" for the evening performance. We took him up on it and went to it even though both of us were so tired we didn't enjoy it so much. John Boles played the lead and Sterling Halloway held the comedian role. We didn't get up until noon the following day - Saturday June 9th. We were to report in to Hamilton Field. Smith called them by telephone and we were to report out there at 9:00 AM on June 10th.
On Saturday night we went out to see some of the high spots of Frisco. Of the numerous places we visited I liked the "Top of the Mark" and "International Settlement" the best. Top of the Mark is a bar on the top of Mark Hopkins Hotel situated on Knob Hill. It is entirely enclosed with glass and one gets a breath taking view of the city and bay in all directions. "International Settlement" is the remaining part of Barberry Coast of old historical notoriety. Most of it is made up of amusement establishments. At the Top of the Mark bar I sat beside a 3 star General and on the other side of me was a buck Private. One saw just millions of men in uniform in all branches of service and in all ranks. Of course we had to experience a ride on the famous cable cars for which that city is noted.
On Sunday morning we went to the down town office of ATC where we secured army transportation to Hamilton Field. We rode in an army "recon" car down along the docks and then over across the golden gate bridge - gosh what a sight. Words just can't begin to describe it. A small cruiser was sailing under the bridge as we went over it. Then we went past some of the ship yards, through San Raphael, and then finally arrived at Hamilton Field. Here I saw for the first time some of the camouflage work done on our western defense areas. The buildings, etc. were painted in green, brown, yellow, and gray in irregular shapes and patterns. I noticed a lot more security being kept then at some of our air bases I'd been on in the central US. We were taken directly to the Port of Embarkation office where our papers, orders etc. were examined. We were given our instructions and then continued over to the medical department where we received medical examinations during the remainder of the forenoon.
In the afternoon we were given two briefings: overseas rules regarding censorship, security etc. and a briefing on tropical diseases. We were to report back to the port officer for further instructions and here we were issued musette bags, canteen, bayonet, etc., also a steel helmet. All of our baggage and equipment was stored and we were permitted to take toiletries and a few clean shirts along in our musette bags.
Much to our delight we were informed by ATC officer that there would be no space available for a few days and that if the port officer would give us permission we could go back to our hotels in Frisco. The port officer OK'd it but we were to report to the ATC officer in the ATC office in San Francisco twice daily for alerts – 8:00 AM and 5:00 PM. I also went over to Hamilton Field commissary and purchased sun tan trousers and another pair of shoes. We hitched a ride in an army car back to San Francisco. We were happy - it meant a day or two more in the good old USA. And Elton Richardson had held our room just in case this were to happen and so we still had a room - otherwise we'd have stayed at the BOQ for transient officers on Hamilton Field.
That night we really pitched a good one. Smith told one story after another - something that was very entertaining in days to come. That man was wonderful to be around because he was very humorous and could always bring out the very best of people he was around. He always had a witty comment and answer for anything and everyone. He was about six foot, had his hair cut short in a crew cut, he wore a mustache and there was always a cigar in his mouth which he rolled around in his mouth when he talked. That night I heard the famous "Grafters" story for the first time.
The following two days: June 11th and 12th were spent reporting for alerts at 8:00 AM and 5:00 PM and then going shopping for small incidentals we didn't have and thought we needed. There were many things later on I'd wished I'd purchased and many things I had along with me that I had no use for but of course we didn't know that then. One thing I purchased in Frisco that I'll save the rest of my life was a summer garrison cap which I called my "hot rocker". It was on my head in some very trying moments later on in the Pacific.
Our Wright Field orders specified that we were permitted to carry 165 lbs of luggage and normally one was permitted only 65 lbs. The extra hundred was for tools and technical data. Then we were permitted to carry our belts, canteen, bayonet, steel helmet and raincoats on our person plus one musette bag, into which I loaded all my toilet articles. I had my B-4 bag and small brown leather Honeywell bag which I had carried throughout my travels in the states. I had about 55 lbs short of my allowed weight so that night we visited several liquor stores and I picked up 12 quarts of good whiskey to take along - later finding out that they were worth their weight in gold.
This Irving Sanderson - one of the men going out with us had brought his typewriter along - God knows what for, as we knew that the army would furnish typewriters for us if we needed them - also he hadn't left his tools in Minneapolis like the rest of us had and so his weight was about 50 lbs over the limit. Toby Tuthill felt sorry for him finally and unloaded some of the things he was taking along - shipped them home and carried Irv's typewriter for him. I packed my dress uniform, pinks, and heavy shirt in a box and had them stored at the Sir Francis Drake Hotel wardroom. On Tuesday afternoon Smith and I were in the bookstore just off the hotel and I happened to run into Hal Kurtz - a man I met at Dyersberg, Tennessee the preceding winter.
That evening we were all set to go but were not alerted at the 5 o'clock meeting at the ATC office. The following morning we were up bright and early - had breakfast in the hotel coffee shop then walked over to the ATC office. Toby Tuthill's name was called and he left for Hamilton Field about a half hour later. Amid goodbyes, "see you in Kuuminy, China" (that's where we'd heard we were going strictly through rumor), we saw Toby on the recon car.
Smith and I went back to the hotel knowing full well that it was likely we'd be called on the 5:00 o'clock alert. We had a good dinner and sat around most of the afternoon in the hotel room. Finally it drew close to 5:00 PM and being sure our few things were ready to take along out to Hamilton, we walked over to the ATC office which was about three blocks from the hotel. At 5:00 PM the announcer came on: "The following people will report back here in one hour for transportation to Hamilton Field. Bach, Smith, Sanderson, etc., etc." This was it and we would be going out. We went back to the hotel and we all wired our folks the telegrams. I sent the following one to Peggy, "Putting Uncle Charlie on plane tonight. Hope he arrives soon." Charlie standing for China according to our prearranged code. All of us were certain that was our destination.
We rode out to Hamilton in the same army recon car going out over the Golden Gate Bridge and catching our last look at the bay and city of San Francisco from the ground. We were taken directly to the ATC terminal where an officer sent us into a room where a motion picture was shown "Survival at Sea" in case of being forced down in flight. We were then taken up to the transient officer’s quarters with the orders that our names would be called over the public address system one hour before we were report down to the ATC office. We were given a blanket, towel, pillow case, and sheets, and taken over to some barracks where there were a lot of double-decker beds. We found one that wasn't being occupied and Smith and I flipped for it - I lost and took over the top bunk. We hung up our musette bags, helmets, canteens, etc. over the bed posts, washed up, then went up to the transient officer's mess where we had a very delicious supper.
Over across from the mess hall was the transient officer's club where we found out that we could get a good cold beer. We found Toby Tuthill here sipping a cool one and playing a slot machine. We were glad to see him. He was to report down to the ATC terminal at midnight and was leaving at 3:00 AM so he wasn't going to bed. Smith and I drank about three bottles of beer and then went down to our quarters and went to bed. Men were coming in and going out all night long but at 9:00 AM Irving Sanderson rushed in, woke us up, and said that our names were called over the PA system and that a truck was waiting outside for us. We hurriedly jumped into our clothes, washed and rushed into the truck. There was no time for breakfast and they'd told us that we were to fill our canteens and also drink a quart of water before going on an over water flight. We didn't get around to doing any of these.
At the ATC terminal we first lined up to have ourselves and baggage inspected, then our baggage and ourselves were weighed - from here we went into a room where for two hours we were lectured to by an officer on how to conduct ourselves on an overseas flight. We were issued "Mae West" jackets - shown how to use them, etc. Our plane was called and with our paraphernalia on we filed out of the briefing room and out of the building toward a Douglas, four engine C-54 waiting out on the line for us. I was both thirsty and hungry and cussed myself for not having filled my canteen the night before. The dispatcher had previously collected 50 cents from each of us for a box lunch which would be served aboard plane during flight. We stood around the portable steps waiting to board the plane and we admired the plane - a Douglas C-54 transport. I could see through the door that it had nice cushion seats and we were happy about this as we'd heard all about these "bucket" seat planes which were mainly used by the ATC in transporting personnel. The flight clerk came to the door and started calling names and as our names were called we filed up the steps into the plane. I can vividly recall the feeling I had as I stepped on to that first step - wondering when and if I'd set foot on the USA again.
There were 44 passengers. Smith, Sanderson, and myself plus a large number of P-38 pilots who were going out to Biak Island. We stowed our gear - musette bags etc. up on a shelf. Put on our Mae West jackets and settled down in our seats preparatory to taking off. The flight clerk - a sergeant takes similar duties as the hostess does in commercial airlines, stepped up to the front of the cabin and gave us instructions as to how we would conduct ourselves during the flight and what the procedure would be in case the plane was forced down and had to ditch in the ocean.
Smith and I sat in the two rear seats on the left hand side. Sanderson sat across from us. Soon we could feel them starting the engines and then the flight clerk closed the door and walked through the cabin with an insect aerosol spray bomb. We taxied out to the end of the runway and they made their engine run ups and power checks preparatory to takeoff. Suddenly they turned around and taxied back to the line. Smith and I thought that perhaps an engine wasn't functioning properly. The flight clerk told us the radio wasn't working right and they were having one of the units replaced - there would be a few minutes delay and we could step outside so long as we stayed near the ship.
I walked back of the ship where a few of the P-38 pilots were hobnobbing and lit up a cigarette. Smith made a beeline for the PX which was about two blocks from where we were standing and came back with six candy bars for our breakfast. We were called back into the plane, engines were again started and we again taxied out to the end of the runway. At exactly 12:30 PM San Francisco time, the pilot poured the coal to the engines, we started rolling down the runway in a north direction, pulled off and started a spiral turning climb toward the east back south over the bay and into a straight climb directly over Oakland bridge, Golden Gate bridge and southwest toward Hickam Field near Honolulu in the Hawaiian Islands.
The windows in a C-54 are round and bulge out. I could look down and back and see all of San Francisco, the Golden Gate Bridge and all the ships going in and out of that great harbor. It would be difficult to express the feeling I had as I looked back to that city and bay and watched it gradually diminish in size and fade into the distance and finally fade out entirely in the haze.
We leveled out at about 10,000 feet altitude. The flight clerk informed us that there was a latrine in the rear end and ice water in some jugs on the wall with a paper cup rack. Only two of us would be permitted to the back there at a time otherwise it would put the ship out of trim. Smith and I made a beeline and I really quenched my thirst. We were also permitted to smoke every 15 minutes of the hour. We were told by the flight clerk to take our Mae West jackets and place them under our seats where they would be handy in case they were needed. I took out a package that had been given to me by the Red Cross back at Hamilton Field. It was prepared by the Omaha Red Cross chapter. It contained two packs of cigarettes, a deck of cards, dice, a small checker board and checkers, sewing kit, mosquito repellent, sunburn oil and ointment, mirror, comb, and a good luck token. Smith had a map of the Pacific on which he'd drawn some lines between San Francisco and Hawaii and as it was 2,500 miles between them he'd divided lines into 12 parts as it was to take us 12 hours to make the flight and we'd be able to plot where we were every hour.
The sky was surprisingly clear and about two hours out of Hamilton we could occasionally see ships down below us many merchant ships going both east and west. Looking down at the water it is pretty hard to estimate altitude but whenever we could see a ship you could get an idea how high we were flying. There were a few destroyers that appeared to be on patrol and we saw two navy blimps below us. Soon we were over a solid cloud layer and so most of us busied ourselves with reading.
I got out my notebook and pencil and continued my diary - which I started back in the hotel in Frisco. Occasionally, I would consult my watch and figure out what the time would be back in South Dakota and I wondered what Peggy, the kids and the folks would be doing. They knew from my telegram that I was on my way out. I was glad that they knew. Smith started telling stories about 3:00 PM (Frisco time) and that killed about an hour and a half. Finally about 5:00 PM the traffic clerk brought out our box lunches - two sandwiches, a pickle, an apple and a cup of broth soup followed by a cup of coffee and some cookies. After lunch I went to sleep and didn't wake up until dark. I had a funny sensation looking out the window. I could see the green navigation light on the left wing tip but as there was no moon the sky and everything was very black. It was 10:30 PM San Francisco time and we were about two hours out of Hickam Field.
About 12:15 AM one of the fellows on the right side said, "I can see the lights". We could feel the pilot had begun his let down and soon the traffic clerk came in from the flight deck and told us to put on our Mae West jackets and fasten our seat belts. I thought about how it would have been if we were in this position about December 7th 1941. There were many search lights and ground lights below us so we figured we were over Honolulu and Pearl Harbor. We made a slow turn to the right and then we could feel the flaps come down and we were in final approach. I put my head into the window in time to see his landing lights come on and the rectangle of the runway lights ahead. He made a nice landing. At the end of the runway he taxied over to the ATC terminal of Hickam Field.
We got off our ship and walked through a gate into a patio with chairs and tables. Some Red Cross ladies were serving doughnuts, coffee, pineapple juice (ice cold) and strips of pineapple. Over the PA system they announced that we were to report for baggage and army orders inspection in the ATC briefing room. Here we were issued billeting instructions, checked our luggage, then boarded an army truck for a ride to the transient officer's quarters - Hickam Field. Here we signed up for a towel, sheet, blanket and pillow case for a charge of 25 cents. Smith and I found our bunks and disposed of our stuff then went out to the officer's mess for some supper. It was 1:30 AM San Francisco time. I set my watch back to 10:30 PM Honolulu time. We shaved and showered and then went to bed. Ah - the bed felt good. I went right to sleep.
Smith came over and awakened me at 7:00 AM the following morning. We planned to get on the sight seeing tour the ATC had if we weren't alerted. First we had breakfast then walked down to the ATC terminal to see when we'd be alerted. Found out that we would be going out at 1:00 PM so we canceled any plans we had for sight seeing. Anyway, we walked around Hickam Field and as it bordered on Pearl Harbor we saw some of the remains of the December 7th bombing. The barracks in which we quartered the night before had taken a direct hit that Sunday morning. Thirty-five men had been killed and many wounded. We could still see where they'd patched up the buildings and the hangers. It was a busy air base. The runways were parallel and I believe there were about six of them and they were approximately six to eight thousand feet long. We saw lots of B-29's being ferried through and we presumed they must be replacements for some other Wing than the 315th which we were attached to as their airplanes would be flown out by the crews themselves.
Smith and I reported back to the ATC traffic officer at 11:30 AM and then went over to the officer's mess for lunch. We didn't know it then but it was to be the last time we were to eat out of dishes and have regular food. Also it was to be the last time for a long while that we'd have ice in a glass of water. Our luggage was cleared and weighed again and we were ready to leave on flight #71 for Johnston Island which was about 950 miles southwest of Hawaii. We were on a different plane than the one we came on to Hawaii from the states. One thing we were tickled about was that this C-54 also had plush seats - were we lucky. They said that only one out of a hundred ATC ships had cushion seats.
There were relatively high mountains all around Honolulu so we took off in an easterly direction turning toward south soon after takeoff and then swinging around southwest as we climbed to the cruising altitude. We got a good view of Honolulu, Waikiki beach, and Pearl Harbor. There were lots of naval vessels - carriers and battleships in the harbor and quite a bit of activity visible from the air. It was hot and we were sweating considerably under our Mae West jackets but it was quite comfortable when we reached cruising altitude which I judged to be about 10,000 feet. The flight clerk said we could smoke as much as we pleased. Smith sat next to the window and I was in the aisle seat. We were in the second row from the front. There were 44 men and 2 flight nurses aboard. The nurses were going to Okinawa and most of the men were on their way to join the 501st B-29 group which was in the Wing we were attached to. They were all ground officers and enlisted men. From them we learned that the 315th Wing was being based at Tinian so, as we discovered later, we were all confused and it didn't pay to take much stock in rumors. It was a beautiful day. There were scattered cumulus clouds and the Pacific Ocean has a deep blue color. We saw no ships on the flight to Johnston Island.
At about 5:30 PM we were told to put on Mae West jackets and fasten seat belts and then we could see tiny Johnston Island just below our right wing. It was very small - just a tiny dot of coral in the vast Pacific. It was about a mile and a half long and 300 yards at its widest point. The runway ran full length on the southern edge and then a taxi lane went around the other side of the island where the ATC buildings were located. The administrative buildings and navy barracks etc. were in the center along a road that ran the full length of the island. It was solid white coral and quite hard on the eyes in the bright sunlight. We were informed that we would have a 2 1/2 hour wait and that we could get supper at the officer's mess.
We got out and walked the few steps to the shore on the north side. As with most Pacific islands, there was a coral reef surrounding the little island and in the lagoon on the north side they had a navy PBY Catalina flying boat or seaplane base. There were thousands of white birds that resembled seagulls at home only much larger and they made a lot of noise. Smith called them "gooney birds". There was a 600 foot radar antenna tower right in the center of the island and they had electric light power and a water distillation plant together with an ice plant. It was the first I noticed that it was hot and I sweated very profusely.
The sun went down about 7:15 PM (-1 1/2 hour Hawaii Time) - we set our watches back 1 1/2 hours from Hawaii Time. It was Saturday night and back home in South Dakota my loved ones would be sleeping. Smith and I both remarked that it would sure be hell to have to spend several months on a little spot like Johnston Island but we both soon arrived in a place that made Johnston Island seem like a paradise. With the exception of the ATC, most of the island was navy. All personnel wore shorts - pants cut off about 8 inches above the knee. We saw our first Pacific sunset and I am unable to express its beauty in words. There was a mild breeze blowing across the little island and it became quite comfortable. Up in the navy service club a dance orchestra was playing and you could hear it all over the island. Even though Ernie Pyle expressed it in his book as " two aircraft carriers tied end to end" it was a sort of a nice little spot.
We were called over the PA system at 8:00 PM to board our plane #71 and we taxied over to the west end of the island and took off. An incident happened that caused the first scare to us on a trip that so far had gone pretty smoothly. We were about 500 feet in the air when No. 4 engine suddenly backfired. Of course I'd been on many ships back in the states where engines had backfired in flight - an indication of one of two things: either the pilot had a faulty mixture setting or else there was a malfunction in the engine. Smith and I reasoned that it must have been a faulty mixture setting as the backfiring did not continue. As soon as we reached cruising altitude we removed our Mae Wests and started settling down for the night.
It was very dark outside - no moon but I could see the stars. It became quite cloudy as I could see them drift by the wing tip. Smith had curled up on his side and apparently asleep and I was just dozing off when, " Bing - Bing - Bing" number four back fired three times in a row shaking the whole ship. Smith was wide awake and said, " Herb - that ain't good - wonder why they don't turn around and go back to Johnston." Smith noticed too that he could see the exhaust flare of # 4 engine and that indicated we'd blown an exhaust stack. That created a serious danger of fire, but a few minutes later the co-pilot came back and we asked him and he said there were no fuel cells near that engine, consequently absolutely no danger. The engine was OK only that they were running on auto lean instead of a lean setting as they normally would run - we figured out that he had a magneto drop. Still it seemed that neither Smith nor I felt much like sleep so he entertained me by telling about farming at Bloomfield, Iowa.
We passed over the international dateline at about 11:30 PM Johnston Island time. It was now Sunday night instead of Saturday night - we'd lost a whole day. Lights in the ship were dimmed as we were soon to fly near the Jap held island of Wotgie - the daylight planes detoured 100 miles to the south as a precaution. I did feel a bit uncomfortable flying in Jap territory for the first time in an airplane far out over the pacific with what I thought to be a bum engine. A C-54 can maintain altitude on three engines but air speed is cut about 40 MPH. It can stay aloft at 10,000 feet for 90 minutes on two engines before it hits the water. But the glow from the stack of # 4 lighted up so much that it lit up the whole cabin. I thought sure all the Japs within 100 miles could see us for sure. As I think back it was a Sunday school picnic as compared to some of the flights I was to go on later on in the summer.
I figured out from my watch that it was Sunday afternoon back in Chester and it was the day that dad held his band picnic - funny how a person can daydream about things far away. In just a few days I was out in an airplane in the middle of the Pacific in a dark night and my loved ones were sitting around on a lawn at home having a picnic dinner and listening to dad's band.
We started our letdown to Kwajalein Atoll and landed there at 5:00 AM Johnston time, 1:30 AM Kwajalein time. Couldn't see very much as there were few lights but we walked into a "shack" which was the ATC terminal of the island. Even at that time of the night the heat was terrific - the temperature and humidity just seemed to stun a person. Even from what we could see this island seemed like a hell hole, which it was. We had a 1 1/2 hour wait and we were sent up a few buildings where we were to pay 50 cents and get a ticket to go over to a mess hall for a meal. A young private handed out slips of paper to the officers and then we got on a truck which took us over to a mess hall. That young private actually stunk so terribly that it seemed he couldn't have had a bath for two years. As we were riding in the truck over to the mess hall Smith said, "Herb, after you and I've been out here two weeks we'll smell just like that guy in there does."
At the mess hall we found two fellows stripped to the waist and in shorts - a dozen rough benches, tin cups and pie tins, mealy old dehydrated potatoes, powdered eggs, bread and grease, and luke warm "iced" tea. I could hardly eat it but that was to be our type of living for the following months - only we were not adjusted to anything like that. We were wringing wet with perspiration. I was very thirsty from then on for a few weeks until I became adjusted to drinking warm water. While there I thought of Russell Hurt, Vic Fennor, Mark Barber and Curt Severson who were in the 7th Division that had taken this place from the Japs. That must have been hell.
After we had eaten we went back over to the ATC office and stood around out in the front of the shacks which composed their headquarters, etc. My God it was hot. Our pilot and crew finally started walking out to our airplane so we all followed along. We were soon told to get aboard and the inside of the plane was like an oven, my God but it was hot. We were all wringing wet with perspiration. Finally we took off and headed for Guam – 1,700 miles away. We were told to keep our safety belts on as they were expecting rough weather ahead. It felt good to get up to cruising altitude again. I would judge that the temperature was about 70 degrees up there and about 120 degrees on the ground.
Finally we hit the first rough weather - the plane was tossed around a good deal but I was well adjusted from past experience. One of the men in the back seats became quite airsick. Wax paper sacks were passed around to those feeling sick. The rough weather lasted about two hours. The exhaust stack of # 4 engine was still missing and it flared up considerably. Smith was asleep and finally I went to sleep. When I awoke it was just getting daylight. The sky was full of large billowing cumulus clouds. Soon the sun was up and we could see the ocean again for miles in each direction. Suddenly below us we spotted a convoy heading west. There were about 40 merchant ships with a few destroyers around them and a small aircraft carrier. About three navy single engine planes were to be seen flying around the convoy - patrolling for Jap submarines.
We finally could feel that we were losing altitude and Smith said he thought he could see land ahead. Sure enough it was Guam and we flew over the entire length of the island at about 5,000 feet turning out over the ocean on the west side and started letting down in final approach to an airstrip near the southwest side of the island. There seemed to be a lot of activity on Guam - one could detect it from the air. We landed on Harmon Field - the landing strip used by the ATC on Guam.
It was 7:30 AM Guam time and already one could detect the heat - we left our plane and stood around in a large shed with a dirt floor where finally our luggage was brought in and handed out to us. The men of the 501st group who were with us were taken over to transient quarters in trucks but Smith, Sanderson and I were to report to 20th Air Force headquarters so there was no transportation for us. We sat around with our luggage for about a half hour wondering what next and then Smith and I decided we'd go into an office and ask every officer we saw to line us up some transportation. About the 15th one got on a telephone and ordered a weapons carrier truck (6 ft x 6 ft) to come down and transport ourselves and our luggage. It was hot and we were dripping wet. I drank the last water I had in my canteen. We waited about 40 minutes and finally a three ton army truck rolled up in front of the door. It wasn't the one for us but we talked the driver into taking us up to headquarters of the 20th Air Force which he did.
We pulled out on a four lane tar highway. There was certainly a lot of traffic for so early in the morning. These are my first impressions of Guam: lots of tall coconut trees everywhere, the soil was brick red and the reddish color penetrated buildings, trucks, and everything. All along the highway were stacks of material. It was only two miles from Harmon field to the 20th AF headquarters and soon we pulled up to the front of a large flat building which had a sign out in front marked "Headquarters 20th AAF". We went in and were greeted by a hell of a fine fellow - a sergeant sitting behind a desk - he was the receptionist - he told us to leave our gear on the floor beside his desk and then he sent us over to the headquarters officer's mess for breakfast. It was a long screened hall where about 25 Negro mess boys were serving. We lined up for pancakes, syrup, fried spam, and coffee. It tasted very fine and I must have eaten at least 10 pancakes.
As we were walking over toward the headquarters building who should we meet but Toby Tuthill and John Anderson. Toby had arrived the evening before and had been lucky to contact John immediately. John was the Honeywell Pacific Theater Coordinator and served on the 20th AF staff. As we were to report immediately to the commanding officer (General Lemay) we three went into headquarters and the sergeant sent us into an office where we met Colonel Knowles - the General's adjutant. We gave him our orders and then he told us that the 315th Wing was to be located on what was called "Northwest Field" here on the island of Guam. The hitch was that the field was about half completed and living conditions up there would be pretty rugged for awhile. He said that our orders would be cut that afternoon and we were to report up there on the following day to General Armstrong - CO of the 315th Wing. Transportation would be ready for us at 10:00 AM. We were then sent over to a billeting officer where we were furnished one blanket and then taken over to a barracks where there were about 40 army cots set up. Alongside the barracks was a shower shed and wash room. There was a large canvass lister bag on top of the shed.
The first thing Smith, Sanderson, and I did was to peel off our clothes and have a shower bath. We were pretty tired so we lay down on the cots and went to sleep. About 12:30 PM John Anderson and Tuthill came over and got us. We had lunch at the officers mess and then John took us for a ride in his jeep around the headquarters area and then over to the building where he had his office. He gave us the dope on the setup out here and the type of living, etc. that we'd have. Also informed Smith and me that we would be called on to go to various islands - Tinian, Saipan, Iwo Jima and Okinawa, wherever our services were needed.
Smith already was the boss of our group and the fixings on our respective duties were planned long ago back in the states at Wright Field. Sanderson and Tuthill were to be in charge of maintenance and service of the turbos and C-1 autopilot for the entire wing. My job would be instructional and I would be in charge of briefings on bombing with the autopilot and AGLD radar unit for the entire Wing - also to assist the others in their duties whenever help was needed. Smith was to be in full charge of all our activities and was to assist the army on supply and depot 4th echelon maintenance.
We hadn't had much of a Sunday - having crossed the international dateline and in flying west we had been moving the clock back. Monday, consequently, was a mighty long day. It seemed that I was all mixed up on time anyway. It got dark early in the tropics - about 7:15 PM the sun went down and in a few minutes it was dark - there was no twilight - it got dark in a hurry. There was electric power at this area and we had two tiny light bulbs in this large barracks. I went out to the latrine - a screened-in 12 holer - no plumbing of course. It was the first BM I'd had since leaving Frisco and it was a big one. I thought things were very primitive but it was paradise compared to what I was getting into the following day. We lay down on our cots and Smith got started telling stories again. What a character! No pillows and those army cots were hard as the floor but I went to sleep in a hurry.
We were up at 6:00 AM on Tuesday, June 19th. A weapons carrier truck was sent up to our barracks soon after we'd had breakfast and we loaded our gear aboard, sat on the plank seats on the sides and started out for the 315th Wing Headquarters Northwest Field out on a four lane road along the west side of the island. Traffic was terrific - jeeps and trucks going like hell. It was as bad as the traffic on Michigan Avenue in Chicago. Everywhere we looked we could see tent camps, bull dozers working and piles (yes piles) of equipment. For about a mile there were wooden boxes piled up about 25 - 30 ft high and it seemed like driving up a city street. We passed the 2nd Marine Division encampment, ground forces headquarters, several Sea-bee encampments, and in one area there were at least 500 new trucks parked in rows. All of these areas had been cleared out of solid jungle by bull dozers. Suddenly, B-29's started flying over us - about 100 feet off the ground, one after the other. Our driver said they were the 314th Wing ships based on "North Field" and they were on their way no doubt to bomb Japan. There were then two large B-29 bases on Guam - Northwest Field where we were to be based and North Field about 5 miles south of ours where the 314th Wing was based.
Finally we turned off the road and drove on a bumpy dirt road till we came to a sign saying 315th Wing Headquarters. All it was were tents sitting under the coconut trees. After a lot of inquiring around we found out where the temporary headquarters was located. We stepped into a tent and reported to a Colonel Fulton, Adjutant, who was sitting behind a wooden box that served as a desk.
"Gentlemen", he said. "I can't offer you a chair as you can see what the situation is around here." We handed him our orders and he said that it would be advisable for us to spread around and live with each Group. The 331st and the 502nd Group were on the north side of the field and the 501st and 16th Group were on the south side. As I'd worked with the 331st back at McCook, Nebraska and Smith had been with the 502nd at Grand Island, Nebraska, it was decided that we would live with them and Tuthill and Sanderson would live with the 501st and 16th Group.
The 501st bivouac area was a few hundred yards away so we drove through a winding dirt road (bumpy as all hell) to a clearing where there were about a hundred small tents. We dropped Toby off at the 501st Headquarters, took Sanderson over to the 16th area which was a few hundred yards farther into the jungle, then came back through the Wing Headquarters area and on to a two lane coral - tarred highway around the west end of the field to the north side where the 331st and 502nd areas were supposed to be. We finally found them and they were right together on a road leading off the highway - the 331st area was on the left hand side and the 502nd area on the right hand side. The men of the ground echelon were here and they'd left the states in March - coming out by boat. None of the flying echelon was here as yet except for one plane - General Armstrong's and that was sitting down on Harmon Field.
We caught a glimpse of the airfield as we came around the "perimeter" road. There were hundreds of bull dozers and trucks and machines working. There was a rise on the one end where they had knocked down the trees and were excavating a big cut so as to lower the clearance at the end of the runway. This entire north end of the island was on a rock - there was a cliff that was about 600 feet high all around this edge of the island - that's probably why the marines referred to it as "the rock". Vegetation was dense - only the clearings had been opened up with bull dozers. One couldn't walk through it. Along the edges of the highway and roads were piles of coconut trees and brush from being pushed over and to the side by the bull dozers.
We found the tent marked "Hdqtrs - 331st Bomb Group", jumped off the truck and Smith handed me my bags. I thanked the driver then walked into the tent to report. There were two enlisted men in one end and a young blond man with a 1st Lt. bar on his cap sitting behind a box that served as the desk. "I'm Herb Bach, a bombing technician assigned for duty with the 315th Wing and Colonel Fulton has asked me to live with the 331st Group". "I'm Lt. Russell Riley acting adjutant of the 331st Group, I'm sure glad to know you Bach". It was 12 o'clock noon and Lt. Riley took me over to the officer's mess. I noticed that the tents were lined up in rows and some had wooden floors built in from scrounged lumber. It was very muddy and we wadded through ankle deep mud up between the rows of tents until we came to an area where there were several large tents situated close together.
We stepped into one where about 25 officers were sitting at some benches eating out of pie tins. Riley took me over to an end table where he introduced me to Lt. Colonel Mackey - CO of the forward ground echelon of the 331st Group. Colonel Mackey was a gray haired, short, stocky man whom I judged to be about 45 - 50 years old. He was nice and I liked him right away. He had one of the KP's bring me a plate and utensils and then turned to the others and introduced me to all the officers present. When I told him that I'd been at McCook, Nebraska working with the flight crews of the 331st Group in May he was quite surprised and the first thing they all wanted to know was when they would arrive out here - a question I couldn't answer. I told them how we'd heard through rumor that the 315th Wing was to operate in China they laughed and said that they had heard that before they sailed in March. I was chided and razzed a bit about my appearance. Here I was with long hair neatly combed (I'd just had a haircut in Frisco the day before we left), a pair of fairly clean pants on and a new suntan shirt I'd put on clean that morning. One fellow said, "And to think I looked like that once". Well, they were a seedy looking bunch of men - hair cut off, a dirty brown color - browned by the sun and most of them had on shorts and combat boots, bared to the waist, and as they all wore their rank insignia on their caps, I couldn't tell whether they were a Lieutenant or a Major. The food was entirely C rations - ground up meat, vegetables, gravy and spuds all in one. Bread with a butter like stuff that they called "grease", warm water.
I was sitting near a fellow they called Padre - a young Captain - the Catholic Chaplain, Father Gaines. I was to get to know him quite well in the future. Two doctors were sitting across from me; Captain Wiggers and Captain Krausharr. I told Captain Krausharr that I knew a man by the same name that had been an educator back in South Dakota and wondered if there could be any connection. "There sure as hell is, he's my uncle. I'm from Aberdeen and my father was a physician there until he died a few years ago." Doc Krausharr was a swell guy and we were to have lots of good times together later on that summer.
This group of men composing about 50 officers and 400 men had left the states in March, sailing by boat to Guam. There they were loaded onto trucks and moved up to the north end of the island, given some lumber and tools and unloaded into a clearing in the jungle where they pitched their tents - built up their temporary living area and they began to build up the maintenance shops out along the line - then to build up a permanent housing area for the group. When I arrived they hadn't received any lumber so everything was dumped in the open and everyone was living in two man tents.
Colonel Mackey asked Lt. Riley to line a place for me to live and Riley told me he'd attend to that this afternoon and I'd have some place to sleep and store my stuff. During the afternoon I walked around the area with Doc Krausharr. Some of the fellows had fixed up their tents pretty nice. Beds had been made by building a frame out of coconut and bamboo logs and lacing rubber strips from old truck inner tubes to form a mattress that was very comfortable. Several chairs had been built out of boxes and it was amazing to me how much some of them had made out of so little. Those little tents were not very roomy and when two cots were put inside there was only a little space between them. Many of the fellows had built a frame out of bamboo and then hanging the tent over it and then by putting a shelter half (pup tent) on each end and staking them out, they could increase the room a great deal. Clothes lines were hung in between the tents and between the coconut and banyan trees. I asked Doc if a guy had to wash his own clothes (what a foolish question). "Yes, unless you want to go dirty." There was a time in my life when I enjoyed being a boy scout but I was over that phase of my life now. Most everybody's clothes were brownish red in color now and all things white such as towels and handkerchiefs soon became reddish brown. Even the tents which had once been army green in color were the same color as the soil. The reddish jungle dirt seemed to penetrate everything just like a dye.
In between the 331st and the 502nd areas was a clearing where about fifteen straddle ditches were located. This was the latrine area and both groups used it. There was no toilet paper so we used mimeograph paper for the first few weeks. On the one end of the area was a wooden board walk with a pipe running above it. There was a faucet on this pipe about every six feet and a large canvass lister bag was sitting on a platform on an end where water was brought in by trucks and stored. The men could get some resemblance of a shower bath.
Doc Krausharr gave me a grim warning of the dangers of skin disease due to jungle crud and fungus of the skin. Tropical jungles were lousy with molds and fungus that attacked all living tissue - and the human body was no exception. The best precaution was frequent bathing with soap and dusting skin with some borated talcum powder. About 25% of the men in the group had fungus infections and some of them were down at the army base hospital in serious condition. I realized that was the first of many things I'd forgotten to bring along although I did have a small can of Quintana foot powder and this I used sparingly. It was impossible to get either soap or powder. I did have enough soap along to last a month at least. They had a small PX (Post Exchange) fixed up in a tent but this was open only for an hour in the evening after supper. The supply of things for sale was very meager. Men would line up and stand in line for a long time to buy the few things they could get.
In the middle of the afternoon Lt. Riley found me and took me over to a tent where only one officer was living - name of Captain (name omitted, an S-2 officer). Nobody could stand him and other men who'd lived with him soon lined up another place. We went over to the tent and I noticed that he'd built a floor but it only covered the ground in half the tent - the side on which he lived. It was the only thing available so I went along with Lt. Riley to the supply tent where I checked out an army cot, mosquito netting, and two mattress covers (they were all out of blankets so they gave me two mattress covers instead). I also got a flashlight, galvanized pail, scrub brush, and a cake of GI soap. This we carried over to the tent and Riley helped me set up the cot and drape the mosquito netting over it. We carried my bags over from headquarters tent and I piled it all on top of my cot. I didn't know where I was going to put everything so I just left my bags packed as they were and they stayed that way for a long time. My B-4 bag was water proof but my little brown leather Honeywell bag was due to catch it from the weather.
That night we had C rations again supplemented with canned peach sauce. The peaches seemed a great treat to the fellows but not much to me - I hadn't been there long enough to get a longing for any food. I thought the C rations were quite tasty. That evening after supper I sat out in front of our tent on my laundry pail hobnobbing with my new acquaintances and then we went up to the officer's club which was a tent that had a coral floor and a few boxes for tables - craps and poker. Down in the tent area near the PX was a large banyan tree where they had hung a gas lantern. Under the tree was a large craps table (where they got the lumber God only knows). This table could handle 20 to 30 men at a time and it ran continuously. I saw $1, $5, and $10 bills that had changed hands so many times and worn so bad you couldn't tell whether it was American or Chinese money.
It grew dark at 7:15 PM and around 8:30 PM I walked over to my new little home and prepared to go to bed. My new roommate was lying in his cot under his netting reading, using a flashlight. All he said was, "You're that new guy aren't you" - that was all. I didn't have much to say to the fellow and never from that time and on did I have much to do with him. He was a very funny fellow.
They said this was the dry season as the wet season would commence after June 21st, however, even in the dry season it rained several times daily - generally during the night and the rain fell down at about a 10 degree angle from true vertical always from a northwesterly direction due to prevailing wind. I took my galvanized pail and set it in the middle of the tent, laid my B-4 bag down on that, set the leather bag on top of that, hung the musette bag on the tent pole, rolled up my clothes and laid them on top of the bags and crawled under the netting and laid on top of the mattress covers. Gosh but South Dakota was a long ways off.
About 2:00 AM I was awakened by the rain hitting me in the face. Water was running in the tent floor like a river. I had my flashlight in the cot beside me and I turned it on and looked out the south tent flaps which were open. There was a solid downpour - water stood four inches deep all over the ground. The north tent flaps were tied shut but rain was coming in through a small slit between the flaps. I couldn't do much about it but I did reach down and get my shoes and tied them to the corner of the cot before they were washed away. This roommate fellow was on the west side of the tent so he and all his stuff was OK and out of line of the rain. Not too much rain was hitting me so I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep - anyway I felt cool for once.
The following morning, Wednesday June 20th, I woke up around 5:30 AM - men in all the tents around me were stirring. Captain Wiggers and Captain Krausharr lived in the tent right across from me and they were out in front washing in their helmets and at the same time they were razzing Captain Gaines - Catholic Chaplain, who lived in the tent right next to mine, "Come on Padre - get your ass out of the sack. Guess we should be chaplains instead of the medical corps. Cripes what a life." By this time I'd gotten my pants and shoes on and was out with my helmet and on my way to the lister bag to get some water. Father Gaines was sitting up in his bunk and when he saw me he said, "Bach, I pity you having to live so close to a couple of pill peddlers - all they have to do is go down for a couple of hours in the morning to the first aid tent for sick call and then they sit around on their dead ends for the rest of the day - now look at me - I run all over this damn island trying to get stuff for these guys - and am I appreciated, Hell No!" This friendly chiding went on all summer. I was to get to know all these men intimately and this friendly razzing that was continuously going on did a lot for these men. Men who had left lovely homes and families and conveniences to come out here and live in this primitive manner.
I washed out of my helmet - brushed my teeth with water out of my canteen, then went along with Doc Krausharr down to the mess tent for breakfast. Colonel Mackey was there and eating. When he saw me he asked, "Well young fellow how did you sleep?" I said, "Well --." And they all roared. "You'll get use to it." I was sweating like the devil already but I noticed that the others were not. I was acclimated by about two weeks later and I seldom perspired heavily after that unless doing heavy work. We had French toast and spam and oatmeal with powdered milk that had been watered. It was a good breakfast - I thought. We would line up with enlisted men and everyone and pass through the mess tent - (kitchen) then over to the tents. The officers had a separate tent from the enlisted men but we had the same food and ate out of the same kind of dishes.
After breakfast I went back up to my tent and began thinking about what I could do to improve my new little home. About then a heavy set blond Captain came up and said, "I'm Harry Malcom, I'm in charge of construction around here and if I can be of any help to you--." Right then I met one of the characters of the outfit. He had been football coach of the Santa Barbara Junior College, Calif. He was the greatest scrounger in the southwest Pacific (I'll have a lot more to write about him later on). "I'll send up a couple of my boys with some boxes and tools and I know where you can get a couple of shelter halves and they'll build up that tent for you so it's livable. That sh-- eating roommate of yours wouldn't do anything, but if you've got a little whiskey along with you, why give the boys each a good drink."
About ten minutes later here come two enlisted men in a jeep with about five boxes and tools. We took down the tent moved all our stuff out and built up a nice large floor by laying boards over coconut logs. We then got some nice coconut poles, built a frame and set the tent up over it, tied the shelter halves to each end of the tent and staked them out. They also nailed two small wooden boxes up on the side pole and I set my toiletries in one and other gear in another. With large nails in the side pole I could hang up my B-4 bag and little brown leather bag so they wouldn't get wet. They left another small box which I could use as a stool. Outside they wired three small poles together like a tripod and I could set my helmet in that when I washed. Everything was finished by 10:30 AM and I began to have a pretty good feeling about everything. I took the two boys into my tent, got a quart of whiskey out of my B-4 bag. They both had a good snort as the bottle was half empty when they left. I don't know if Captain Malcom got much work out of either of them the rest of the day.
About noon my roommate came over to the tent and he was so pleased that he actually acted as though he was glad I was living with him. Colonel Mackey lived in a tent about two doors up from mine and dropped in on his way to lunch - expressed his satisfaction that I had secured a half way decent place to live. I told him I would be happy to help him in any way until the airplanes and flight crews arrived and he said he'd remember that. In a few days I was to get pretty busy and anyway Colonel Mackey never came around to ask me to help him with anything. I liked Colonel Mackey and continued to like him even though a lot of fellows felt he was a slave driver.
That afternoon a Lt. Hinkle - who was acting as officer’s club manager - besides his other duties, came over and asked if I wanted to join the officer's liquor ration association. It cost $40 bond - which we could get back when we left the island - and then we'd buy each bottle every week as we got it. He was going down to Aguana where the island command was located and pick up the liquor for the officers that week and he invited me to go along and as I didn't have a thing to do I took him up on it.
I hadn't seen the airfield so we drove in his jeep out through a jungle road to the landing strips. I was a bit amazed at the density of the jungle. We went past two large coral pits where bull dozers and scoops were hauling out loads of coral to be used in building the runways, taxi strips, and hard stands for parking airplanes. We went out on the field - it was about three miles long and two miles wide. Two long runways parallel to each other were built - they were about two miles long and they extended almost from the east side to the west side of the island. They were constructed out of asphalt and coral. Surrounding them many taxi strips and hardstands were in the process of building. I had seen construction crews working on roads etc., back in the states but never anything like this. There were hundreds of machines going full blast. We drove down one of the runways and it really was something - 11,000 ft long and I'd thought those 6,500 ft runways back at Dyersburg, Tennessee were long. We saw about 25 B-29s were sitting parked over on the south side so we went over there - they were 16th Group ships and they had arrived that morning. I hadn't been over the highway on the east side of the island so we went down that way cutting over across the island on a two lane highway which took us past North Field where the 314th Wing was based. It was a huge airdrome built in the same general plan as it appeared ours would be (a photo of Northwest Field appears in the Life Magazine and I shall try to clip it out and attach it here in this book).
We joined the western highway near 20th AF Headquarters drove past Harmon Field and then to Agauna. It had been the capitol city of Guam and the pre-war population was about 20,000. But there was nothing left of the old city but rubble, there was no high cliff at this end of the island and there was a gradual slope up from the beach. Consequently both the Japs and the Americans had invaded the island at this area. What the Japs didn't blow up the Americans did. It was now a city of quonset huts (quonset huts are built of round sheets of corrugated iron). The ends are screened. They varied in size from 100 feet long down to 30 feet in length. I could see that the Americans had been pretty good to the natives. Building up a complete city with quonset huts and panel board prefabricated buildings while most of the army service men lived in tents.
We were stopped by MP's and as we had a pass we were permitted to enter Aguana otherwise we could not have gone in. They kept the natives and the Americans apart for various reasons. We were not permitted to go into Aguana or Anaharan or any of the other native villages and they were not permitted in our areas. We could enter Aguana with a pass but we were never permitted to enter Anaharan which was on the southeast side of the island.
I signed up and paid my $40 then Lt. Hinkle secured about four cases of whiskey, rum, brandy, and gin and we started back for Northwest Field. Lt. Hinkle knew a P-38 photo reconnaissance group so we stopped in there a few minutes while he looked up some of his old buddies. He learned that this outfit would move up to Northwest Field as soon as it was operable and live there (they arrived about July 1st and lived in an area about three miles from the 331st Group area). We arrived back in our area about 4:00 PM and I helped Lt. Hinkle unload and store the liquor in the officer’s club tent.
After supper the fellows drew slips of paper from a hat and those that were lucky drew whiskey - those not so lucky got rum, gin and brandy. Lt. Riley gave me my beer, coke, and juice ration card. We could get five cans of beer, four cokes, and three cans of juice (grapefruit) every week. As this was beer night, we went down to the PX tent where we lined up to buy our one can of beer. The beer was warm though - refrigeration being something a guy dreamed about. The fellows of course started nipping on some of their liquor. The usual procedure was to take a canteen cup - pour in a can of grapefruit juice then add about three jiggers of whiskey. I discovered immediately that it didn't take much liquor in the tropics to put a guy into a spin.
Colonel Joyce - Group Engineering CO was a great singer and about 40 of the officers got started in a song fest under his direction. It was wonderful and the harmony etc. was really something. Of course the songs were not of the best - such as "I've Got Six Pense", "Roll Me Over", "Send Them All - The Long and the Short and the Tall", but there was one that I learned that night that I shall never forget and it was sung principally by the air corps. It went like this.
"We are little black sheep who have lost our way
baa - baa – baa
We are like little sheep who have gone astray
baa - baa – baa
God look down upon we three
As we pass into eternity
And have mercy on such as we
baa - baa - baa"
Something about that tune made me feel melancholy that night and every time afterwards that I heard it.
It rained again that night and I woke up. I was prepared for it now and I felt very comfortable (there's something soothing about rain falling on a tent roof).
After breakfast the following morning I was in my tent getting ready to walk over to the 502nd area and find Smith when the old boy himself walked in and surprised me. "Is this your tent? If it is you're just an old plutocrat." Smith had a jeep and he and I were going to go over to Wing and start getting organized. Smith had heard that about fifty or more airplanes of our Wing were expected in from the states within the next few days. If so it meant work for us. "I'm glad you've got your living quarters fixed up somewhat decent Herb because in few days we'll be so busy you won’t have time to fix up anything. I was lucky - they moved me into a tent that already had a floor and was fixed up. First thing we've got to do is go to the wing transportation officer and get a jeep requisitioned to each of us as we're going to need it. I borrowed this one I've got from an officer over at the 502nd and can use it for the day."
I put on my colored glasses - went out to the lister bag and filled my canteen - picked up my rain slicker and Smith and I set out in the jeep and headed for Wing Headquarters. "Anything you want to know about a jeep just ask your old friend Smith." He was a good jeep driver but I became as proficient at wheeling one of those things in a few weeks as anybody was. We found the Wing Engineering Officer – and Smith and I went with him over to the tent where the Wing S-2 Department was located. Here I met Colonel Hatfield and Major Chapman - with whom I was to work in close contact. I spent about two hours with them. It was planned that I was to spend a good deal of my time working with them. My duties would include studying plans with them and I would assist their department in briefing targets on all empire strikes. I would be informed 48 hours in advance to report over there - go over the details with them and then on the afternoon on the day preceding all missions, I would brief all bombardiers and radar operators on scope pictures and AGLD and then brief pilots and copilots on the C-1 setup. This meant that I would have a days work in connection with each mission the Wing would make. They said that a large pre-fab building - "the briefing room", was being constructed and they expected it would be ready by the time the Wing went on its first empire strike.
Smith and I had lunch over at Wing that day. The food was C-rations but they had MP's waiting on tables and we didn't have to stand in line. They were much farther ahead in building construction on this side of the field than they were on the north side. After lunch we set out to find Toby and Sanderson. We finally found Toby's tent and there he was - swinging a hammer - building a floor in his tent. Toby said he'd been down to operations office and had made a ground check on all airplanes the 501st and 16th Groups had in. Irving Sanderson had checked all ships for turbo malfunctions and everything had been cleared up. The three of us then went down to the "line" where Smith wanted to look into how they were coming along with their C-1 and turbo maintenance shops.
Smith and I then went back over to our side of the field and I went over to his tent to give it an inspection - it was a bit better than mine. He was rooming at the time with Captain Duffy - who'd been a taxi driver at one time in the city of Boston. Duffy was motor pool officer of the 502nd Group. Over his tent was a sign "Duffy's Tavern". I could see that he was the type of individual that would get along great with Smith. Duffy had swapped with the Sea-Bees and had two cases of canned beer so naturally the three of us sat around in the tent drinking warm beer. Smith said, "Herb, we've got to put our engineering talents together and figure out some way of building a mechanical refrigerator." That was to come but Toby Tuthill was the boy that built it. That night I stayed with Smith for supper with the 502nd Group and met all the officers over there. Smith hadn't known any of them back in Grand Island, Nebraska as he'd arrived after they had left for the Pacific.
The following morning - June 22nd (Friday) Smith came over with two order sheets and gave me one, "One vehicle will be issued daily for uses of H.C. Bach, Technician, for dispatch of duties, by 331st Motor Pool Officer." I was to have a jeep to use at any time I desired. We went down to the 331st Group motor pool where I was to be issued a jeep. Instructions were that I was to check it out every morning and return it in the evening. All oiling, gassing, and servicing would be carried out in the evening - so it would have a full tank of gas and oil and everything checked every morning I'd come down to get it. A stencil was cut and with a spray gun they painted on the right hand windshield, "Tech Rep 315th Wing". Smith said, "Herb, I'll have to check you out on a jeep." I had driven one before back in Dyersburg but I had to re-familiarize myself with the two and four wheel drives, etc. It was a Willy's jeep - practically new and had a good top on it.
We drove down to the north side of the field so Smith could check on how they were progressing with construction of C-1 and turbo maintenance shops. We then drove over to the south side where about 25 B-29's were parked. They were painting the bottom of the wings and fuselage of these planes with black paint - something they did to all of the ships in our Wing being as they would be raiding Japan at night. The General's ship "Fluffy Fuzz the 2nd" was sitting out on a taxi strip and we saw Toby Tuthill sitting over there under a wing talking to group of men huddled around him. We drove over. Toby handed us the form 1 of the airplane on which General Armstrong had written "C-1 autopilot entirely out of adjustment - precessing both right to left. Impossible to adjust for proper flight - this must be attended to and properly adjusted immediately." Toby said, "I've ground checked it completely and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that autopilot." A Major - who was the General's copilot, and the rest of the crew were there.
We decided that we would flight check the ship and with Smith, Tuthill, and I, we should be able to determine where the trouble was. While the Major went up to the Wing Air Inspector's office to get a pilot to go along as copilot, we borrowed chutes and Mae Wests from the crew members and fitted them. We gave the C-1 another complete check but neither of us could detect a thing wrong there on the ground. Finally, the Major came back with a Captain who could act as a copilot. We took a radar operator and a flight engineer along. I sat up in bombardier's seat and would set up that part of the equipment.
The engines were started and we taxied over to the east end of the runway - received take off signal from the control tower (which was then in operation) took off and headed out west of Guam. At about 8,000 feet they leveled off and Smith set up the C-1 while I leveled the stabilizer and centered the "PDI" We flew along level in a straight course for 20 minutes and there was absolutely no precession - the compass stayed right on the dot. There was absolutely no wing hunting or fishtailing. The Major remarked that that was the first time he'd flown in this ship that the C-1 autopilot handled like that. There was a ship off ahead of us so I made several bombing runs - (simulated) on it with the bomb sight. The autopilot and ship responded beautifully so it became evident to the Major that the trouble was General Armstrong and not the autopilot. We went back to Northwest Field, landed and taxied up to the hard stand.
After we got out Smith took a piece of paper and wrote, "Autopilot ground checked and flight checked and found to function perfectly. Suggest you set up your ratio and sensitivity knobs in the following positions and refrain from changing them in flight etc., etc., signed Floyd Tuthill, H.C. Bach, C.H. Smith, Tech Reps." The Major said that he knew the trouble was General Armstrong screwing the knobs on the control panel all over so that the unit would have a lot of cross control, "But what can a Major like I am do? You can't tell off a General." "Well", says Smith, "About the only thing one can do in a situation like this is to tie a hammer onto that control panel and after you get the C-1 set up and the General starts reaching for the knobs, take the hammer and hit him on the hand." I don't know if the Major carried out Smith's instructions but we never had a bit of complaint the rest of that summer.
There was nothing else to do so Smith and I drove back to our areas, I left the jeep at the motor pool and Smith stayed over with me for lunch and met the fellows in the 331st Group. The Wing officers were building a club house down at the beach so Smith and I drove down there in the afternoon. It was situated between Harmon Field and Aguana. We turned off the main highway and took a single lane dirt road that crisscrossed back and forth from the highway to the beach. To describe the beach I'd say it looked just like something one would see in the movies. It had Waikiki beach in Honolulu, Hawaii, all beat to hell for beauty (I was on Waikiki beach on way back to Frisco in September). There was a coral reef out about 1 - 2 miles and there was about 100 yards of pure white sand between the water's edge and the coconut trees. Those coconut trees in this area were quite tall - I'd say 50 to 100 feet in height, and they bent out toward the water. Under the trees were many tents that served as dressing rooms or bath houses. The one end of the beach, and also the best part, was roped off and a sign along the rope read, "Flag Officer's Beach" - all navy four strippers or better could swim there. There were many two man and four man rubber life rafts and a few improvised sail boats made out of empty drop fuel tanks as used on fighter planes. It was really a beautiful beach and we were to spend quite a few leisure hours there during the summer.
The 315th club house was being constructed near the east end of the beach. It consisted of a patio constructed of bamboo with palm fronds interwoven - like a fence around it. Near the rear end they were constructing a club house out of the same material - this would hold a bar and a dressing room. Later on they added a lot of tables and chairs made out of bamboo for the patio. Fellows could bring out their beer and put on their swim suits and then sit out around these tables - enjoy the nice breeze coming off the ocean. It was to be a fine spot later on. All officers of the 315th Wing were expected to help out in the construction. Smith did but I never got around to doing any work there although I made use and enjoyed the place quite frequently.
One could walk all the way out to the coral reef when the tide was out but when the tide was in there was a quite a few spots where the water would be over your head. They had dug out spots along the beach and had put up diving boards. Most fellows would lay in the wet sands, swim around a little or ride around in the lagoon on the rubber rafts. There were always hundreds of men down there in the afternoons. Right next to the place where the beach club was being constructed was the remains of a Japanese pillbox - (machine gun nest). When I crawled into it and looked out the port holes I could see that it commanded a wide view of the entire beach. Out beyond the reef were two tankers lying at anchor. They were delivering aviation gasoline into large pipelines that carried the gas up to a huge gasoline storage area up somewhere on top of the cliff over northeast of the beach. We could see navy destroyers going back and forth out about 10 miles from the beach - no doubt they were on submarine patrol.
At supper that night the 331st Group had as a guest a Mr. Ed Tregaskis - author of the "Guadalcanal Diary." Mr. Tregaskis had arrived with a combat crew over in the 16th Group - had been with them through their training in the states and was going to be with them through their combat. He was writing a series of articles on the experiences for the Saturday Evening Post (I read the articles after I arrived home and thought them to be very good). He spent a few hours in the officer's club tent hobnobbing with a few of us about his experiences and how long he thought the war would last (he predicted, as I remember, that we'd be lucky if we had the Japs whipped by Christmas day 1947). I was to see Ed Tregaskis occasionally in the following weeks - and I remember he sat in and listened to one of my target briefings for AGLD preceding one of the empire strikes. But he was sure a gooney looking guy - tall and scrawny, and he wore a pair of thick lens, horned rimmed glasses.
The following forenoon there were eight B-29's come in from the states. Colonel Peyton - CO of the 331st Group back at McCook, Nebraska and Smith had known him when he was base commander at Clovis, N.M. Army Air Base. He was a splendid fellow - 6 ft 3, gray haired, and about 40 - 45 years old. He had a wonderful personality - was called, "Big Jim" by most of the fellows. On another ship #612 was Captain Jesse Williams - also an old friend of Smith's at Clovis and a fellow that became a great friend of mine. Also in the few planes was Colonel Waltanski who became a great pal of mine. I shall have a lot more to say about Jesse and Colonel Walt in words to come.
I saw "Big Jim" Peyton in the area a short while after he'd had a shower and a chance to rest up. "Bach, I'm glad to see you", he said. "I didn't think you'd arrive out here ahead of us when you left McCook." I asked him where and when the rest of the outfit would arrive and he said they'd be arriving in any day now. The entire Wing was somewhere between Guam and Mather Field California (staging base). Colonel Peyton had a marvelous personality. It just seemed to raise the spirits and moral of the entire 331st Group to have him there. I would say that he was the finest commanding officer ("Old Man" as the army put it) that I'd ever met and known. He had loaded the camera well of his airplane with quite a few cases of whiskey so that night he treated all the officers in the group - including Smith and I, to a big binge. Doc Krausharr & Wiggers had gone over to the base hospital where they had an ice machine - one of the few times we ice during that summer.
I must add here that during that afternoon after I'd talked with Peyton and the flight crews that came in during the forenoon, I decided I better do something about all my dirty clothes that were accumulating in a rapid pace. So I took my pail and helmet and filled them with water from the lister bag, got a cake of Ivory Soap and scrub brush, laid the pants up on a board that was nailed between two coconut trees, and went to work. The usual procedure was to soak the clothes in water, rub some soap on them and then scrub to beat hell with a scrub brush. About two hours later I'd finished three pairs of khaki pants, four shirts, and a lot of underwear and socks. I thought if Peggy could see me now - what a wallop she'd get out of it all.
During the binge that Colonel Peyton put on for us that night Smith had introduced me to Captain Jesse Williams and Colonel Waltanski. Jesse had been married just a short while before he left for overseas. They'd flown from Mather to Hickam Field in Hawaii in first lap. Then from Hawaii to Kwajalein in the second, and from Kwajalein on to Guam. They had been informed at Mather Field, California that they were coming to an air base in the north part of Guam and briefed on its exact location. Jesse had had engine trouble and flown his ship on three engines all the way from Kwajalein to Guam. Waltanski had been an army pilot since 1935 and had a hitch of duty in B-17's in the Eighth Air Force in England before getting into B-29's. He was deputy CO under Colonel Peyton of the 331st Group. He claimed he had been an All American football tackle of Notre Dame and had played football under Knute Rockne. Jesse was a small fellow - dark hair and blue eyes, and had a very pleasant manner about him that one couldn't help but like. Colonel Waltanski was a rough and hard sort of individual and had a collection of cuss words in his vocabulary - the likes of which I've never heard. But Waltanski had a heart of gold and I liked him and for some reason he took a big liking to me. Both men were wonderful pilots - as good or better than any of the others in the wing and I put my trust to fly with either of them from hell to breakfast.
The following day, June 24th, several more of the wing ships came in and among them was Colonel Sam Gurney - CO of the 16th Group. He'd been base commander of the Dyersburg, Tennessee Army Air Field during the summer of 1944. When I heard that the CO of the 16th Group was Colonel Gurney it meant one joyous thing to me - a lot of my old pals from Dyersburg were in that outfit - Colonel Rawls, Tex Maersh, Kenny Mitkif, and many others. Away back in the fall of 1944 when Sam Gurney had left Dyersburg to go to Kearney, Nebraska to form a B-29 Group he'd talked a lot of fellows there into going along with him. I didn't however get to see Colonel Gurney until a few days later. A Major Art Goring - (no relation to Field Marshall Herman Goring) arrived that day with his plane. Art was one of the squadron CO's in the 331st Group. I'd known him back in McCook, Nebraska and I was later to do quite a bit of flying with him. He was quite heavy set and, as was natural, everyone nicknamed him "Herman". He was a heck of a nice fellow, also a darned fine pilot. Art was 31 years old and had entered cadets in 1942 just a month before he would have passed the age limit of 27. He'd had a tour of duty in the Pacific before on B-25's.
That evening they had a grand opening of the 315th Wing beach club. Smith went down for it but I didn't go. Reports indicated that they'd had a pretty big time. General Armstrong and the CO's of all the groups plus a lot of other big wheels of the island were among those that attended. Smith cut his foot quite badly on a piece of sharp coral so he was laid up for a few days. He was so full of booze at the time it happened he didn't know he'd cut his foot until someone discovered blood all over the club house floor and a foot inspection revealed old C.H. Smith bleeding like a stuck hog.
I went over to Smith's tent on the morning of June 25th to hear about the big beach party and found him confined to quarters with his foot in a bandage. While he was describing the details of the orgy the night before an enlisted man came in with a TWX (army teletype message) for him from John Anderson down at 20th AF Headquarters. John wanted either Smith or I to make a trip to Naha Air Base, Okinawa, to supervise installation of a C-1 autopilot and turbo 4th echelon maintenance depot for the 93rd VH Bombardment Group operating at that base. "Well I guess this damn foot of mine decides which one of us will go", Smith said.
I went over to the 331st Group message center - where I contacted John Anderson on the phone. I informed him the condition of Smith's foot and that I'd be the one of us to go. "Take a few clothes and your toilet articles in your musette bag - be sure to carry your helmet and canteen. I'll have Colonel Knowles make out your orders now and I think you can get out on the ATC at eleven o'clock this morning." I ran over and told Smith the dope then back over to my tent where I threw a couple of shirts, extra pants, and socks in my musette bag. Cleaned up my helmet a bit (had been using it as a wash basin) then went down to the motor pool where I got an enlisted man to go along and drive the jeep back. When I arrived at John Anderson's office at 20th Air Force he'd already had my orders cut, "They have a complete 4th echelon maintenance unit up there and they'll need a man to supervise the set up and help them get started. They have plenty of men with the necessary MOS but the army wants one of us to get them set up right. Order came here from 5th Air Force via 20th. I'm too busy to go up there myself and I know you fellows with the 315th Wing haven't much to do as yet so I picked you for the job." I was tickled to death to have the chance to go up there as they were still doing some fighting up there on that island and I was anxious to see some of the real thing.
I sent the boy home with the jeep and John took me over to Harmon Field and dropped me off at the ATC terminal. I took my orders into the dispatcher and as they read, "Expedite the transportation of technician at earliest possible time - - and to be returned to Guam immediately after completion of said mission, etc., etc." I had no trouble being put on a passenger list for the 11:15 plane - my orders were on the regular 20th Air Force daily order sheet and it had been signed by order of General Lemay (I have kept a copy of the orders and have them in my souvenir collection). About 11:00AM my name was called and I went out with eight other men and boarded a C-46 Curtis two engine transport. Here's where I first encountered bucket seats. There were a lot of large cases strapped to the floor so the other passengers and I sat in the bucket seats near the rear of the plane. The back rest was of cloth straps interlaced. We put on our Mae West jackets and put on the safety belts which were attached to the side of the plane.
We took off in an easterly direction flew up along the east side of Guam where I could look down on both Northwest and North Fields. About a half hour later we flew near the Jap island of Rota which is only about 80 miles north of Guam (we were later to use this Rota Island quite extensively as a bombing practice target). The other passengers comprised several Marine officers and a few other whose branch of the service I wasn't able to determine - they were army though - that I could tell.
In about an hour and a half from the time we left Guam we could see Tinian and then Saipan. The B-29 bases on Tinian's south end were clearly visible - it was large and hundreds of B-29's could be seen parked around the base on their individual hard stands. Tinian was not nearly so tropical as was Guam. There were not nearly so many jungle areas - looked more like eastern Tennessee from the air. We came up the east coast of Saipan which was only a few miles from Tinian. We could see a large B-29 base on the south side of that island. We swung into the left and let down and landed on an air strip right in the middle of the island. This air strip was connected to the B-29 base - Isely Field by a long taxi strip but we taxied over to the north end of the air strip where there was a group of large quonset huts which served as the ATC terminal. The crew members informed us that there would be a 30 minute stop. In one of the quonsets was a Red Cross girl behind a doughnut and coffee counter. I had a tin cup full of coffee and a couple of doughnuts - seemed nice to see a white girl again.
We took off in a westerly direction, flew along the west coast of Saipan - could see all the naval vessels and naval installations on the west side. The southern part of Saipan is flat and quite suitable for air bases but the north part is quite hilly and mountainous. The extreme north cliff ends in a high cliff - I should judge around eight or nine hundred feet above the water. We saw a couple of small convoys north of Saipan.
Two and a half hours after leaving Saipan we arrived in sight of Iwo Jima. We came in toward the center of the island and landed on an air strip near the center of that island. I got a good view of Mount Suribachi as we came in. One thing that impressed me a great deal were all the wrecked B-29's and other war equipment on that island. The soil wasn't that red clay like there was on Guam. It was a darker gray like color. There were not very many trees here and one could see the ravages of war even around the air strips as we taxied up towards some shacks that served as the ATC terminal. We had only a few minutes wait so we were not permitted to leave the plane. It was 3:45 in the afternoon and as both Iwo and Okinawa are in the same time zone as Guam, I didn't have to change settings on my watch.
We took off from the air strip in what seems to me to be a southwest direction (it seemed that I always had difficulty out there keeping myself oriented as to the correct direction). We flew past the south side of Mount Suribachi and I could see that the flag the marines had planted there during February was still on top. It really wasn't a mountain but a very steep hill. It was quite rocky and there wasn't a tree or plant to be seen on it, or around it - I suppose everything had been burned to crisp by the flame throwers during the fighting. We swung to the west and then the northwest from Iwo. That island is shaped and looks just like the continent of South America from the air.
It was getting dusk as we came in over land on Okinawa. It looked just like coming in over the coast of California as this was a fairly good sized island. It was quite rugged and hilly. We crossed the island and landed on an air strip on the west side of the island. There were a few shacks and the rest were tents. It was the first time that I'd been on an air field that had been made with the steel matting. I walked into the operations tent and had to stand around about 10 minutes before I could get the attention of the officer there in charge to look over my orders. Although the ATC had been operating in Okinawa only about a week - so they said - on a regular schedule, there's one thing about that organization - it was the most courteous in the army.
After awhile, a First Lieutenant, ATC looked over my orders then called an enlisted man who took me over to a building where they'd set up mess facilities and got me some food. I was the only one in the mess hall - a tent with about 15 tables in it - but the Mess Sergeant got me some food that was left. They had two gas lanterns in there for light. I ate rice with gravy, mutton, black tea and some pear sauce. The enlisted man came back before I'd finished eating and took me over to another tent where there were about a dozen cots. There were two men sleeping and several others sitting there talking. They were all infantry officers and when they saw the Tech Rep badge I wore they were quite curious. One fellow, a young 2nd Lieutenant was going home on emergency leave and I had a pretty good talk with him. He had been in the 7th Division and had been in some of the fighting on Okinawa. He told me that the Japs had capitulated about four days before but there was still a lot of localized fighting going on down south of Naha which was about 10 miles away. Every once in awhile I thought I could hear rumbling of cannonading going on but wasn't sure.
It was a bit cooler on Okinawa than it was on Guam. There were no blankets - I didn't have one with me so I curled up on the cot and covered up with my rain slicker that I brought along in the musette bag. I did get a bit cold during the night but spent a very comfortable night in spite of that. It was raining when I woke up so I put my little "hot - rocker" in my bag and put on my helmet liner and rain slicker. Had breakfast - powdered eggs, bread and coffee followed with stewed prunes, paid the Mess Sergeant and went over to the ATC operations office. There an ATC Captain after reading my orders said he thought there might be a chance of my getting a ride over to Naha air strip (the air strip was just outside the city of Naha and about 8 miles from where this ATC strip was located). Finally a sergeant came in and after the captain had talked with him he informed me that there was a 6 by 6 going over to that field with some materials and if I'd come along with him he'd take me down and see if I could go along with them. Sure enough I could - they were just leaving.
I rode in the back end of the truck - two enlisted men were up front. We left there on what was supposed to be a road but was just a path leading in between debris and junk that had been pushed aside by bull dozers. This had been the first time I'd been on what was recently a battlefield. Just a few weeks ago there had been some real hard bitter fighting take place on this very ground and my eyes were wide open trying to digest it all and remember all I could. We came over to a two lane road where the traffic was quite heavy. Many trucks carried both personnel and material. The road was quite rough and full of holes and all along the sides was debris, smashed tanks, trucks, and everywhere were empty boxes and oil drums - piles and piles of them. There were hardly any jungle plants like on Guam - most of them were trees that resembled those back home but I wouldn't know what kind they were. Most trees had been damaged, some were just stumps.
Near a terminal - cross road - we were held up momentarily by traffic and there I saw a sight I shall always remember - there were a large number of men moving up the other road to our left. They came right past our truck as we sat there. They were marines and I don't have words to express how they looked. Evidently they were out of combat recently - they were caked with the red mud, their faces were dirty and some had beards and some didn't - no doubt those that didn't were too young to have whiskers. They evidently were getting on or getting off a string of trucks that were standing on the road to our left but they were just out of combat after a month or two of it was quite evident. The one enlisted man in the cab remarked, "Those guys look like all that's left of them is eyeballs and assholes."
We turned off that road and turned left and right past smashed buildings and more debris and came near what the enlisted man told me was Sugar Loaf Hill and then finally came to Naha air strip. It had been a Jap airfield but bull dozers and other machinery were then working on it and had it pretty well operable. There were quite a few planes here - mostly B-24's, B-25's, P-51 fighters and a few C-47's. There were also a lot of wrecked Japanese air craft piled over on the far side near the end. Although I wanted to, I never did get over to see any of these.
As luck would have it, the two enlisted men and truck were going to the engineering office and that was where I was headed. There were a few buildings and hangers in use that hadn't been all knocked to pieces (I understand that this air field had changed hands by Japs and Americans several times before finally it was secured by the Americans). A lot of work and building was in progress - nobody seemed to know where anything was located. We did find the engineering office and reported to a Major who was the chief engineering officer of the 93rd B-24 Group - the outfit I was looking for. They had moved in there from New Guinea and Biak and were carrying out strike missions on the Jap island of Kyushu from where the Japanese kamikaze planes were coming (considerable Japanese kamikaze attacks were carried out in July on ships around Okinawa).
They had a bomb sight, C-1 and turbo maintenance unit but it was for 1st and 2nd echelon maintenance available on island so they were stuck. They had 6 enlisted men with an MOS for the 3rd and 4th echelon and they had by luck obtained a portable unit - this was a steel box about 8 x 10 x 10 feet in which instruments and gyros could be prepared in dust free atmosphere.
The Major was a fine fellow - took me down the line to a wooden shed where I met a 2nd Lieutenant bombsight maintenance officer and about half a dozen enlisted men. They were pretty happy to see me - "Now we'll get something set up and going around here." I looked over their shop - they had plenty of tools and had built two work benches out of old waste lumber. Well I went right to work with them. Three things had to be done before anything else - they had to have a supply of 24 volt AC current and 19 volt DC current so they could operate the units in the shop. They had a ("Putt Putt") - which is what the air corps called the external power unit used in starting airplanes - so this furnished the 19 volt DC so they got two inverters from wrecked airplanes and plenty of electronic wire out of same wreck. Hooked up the circuit through the "Putt Putt" and this furnished the 24 AC. Even with this crude method the power was available and it would have been indispensable as we couldn't have begun to set up any repair shop without first having a power source.
That morning I located and reported to the commanding officer of the 93rd Group. To add to the confusion of everything - he didn't seem to know anything about my having to be there - it looked as though he was as confused as everything else was around there. Anyway, it was on the records that I'd reported to the CO and I'd also see him when I finished my job and was ready to leave for Guam.
Only a part of their group of airplanes had arrived but they were already in operation even though all of their maintenance was in a primitive - hit and miss situation. The P-51 fighter group operating on that field had been there a few days longer and they were pretty well organized.
That noon I had for lunch one lunch or dinner unit of K rations. Had secured a few of them through the fellows as their mess facilities were not set up. It was my first experience with K rations and it wasn't bad. During the afternoon the men got hold of a derrick which was on caterpillar track and had them lift the dust proof steel maintenance unit over against the shack so that they were adjoining each other. The next problem was building some kind of gyro stabilizer precession stand (we all had these units back in the states and the shops down on Guam). Two of the enlisted men had worked with them before so they knew what they were. A piece of heavy timber 8" x 8" was found and this they put into a steel drum which was set in hole in the ground. On two pieces of plank 2" x 12" they shaped the correct fittings for a stabilizer and bomb sight. This was bolted to the 8" x 8" timber and that was sunk into the steel drum and asphalt and rock poured around the side. I used a bombsight to level it and the stand was as stable as those we'd had back home that were mounted in concrete.
That evening I had the K rations supper unit - it was pretty good for a change. There was no place to sleep so I laid down on one of the benches in the shop - it wasn't much harder than those army cots so I didn't have much trouble getting to sleep. There was a lot of noise outside - mechanics running engines up and trucks and jeeps bouncing past. It was a clear moonlit night and I did feel somewhat "alone" and far from home.
The following morning some of the men came in and woke me up - I was quite a bit stiff but felt fine after a little moving around. There was a lister bag not far from the shop so I filled my helmet and canteen. Went over behind the shop - washed up and brushed my teeth. I'd brought some "Haline" tablets along for water purification and every time I'd fill my canteen I'd put one of the tablets in it. I had a K ration breakfast unit to eat.
That morning we brought in units from one of the B-24's that was having an engine change. I took the stabilizer and bombsight first and supervised while two of the men tore it down and gave it a regular 100 hour maintenance inspection. They were lacking a strobotac – an air instrument for determining speed or RPM of gyros. But with the exception of this, they had the facilities for ordinary shop maintenance work on the equipment.
That morning we watched a take off of about 24 P-51 fighters from the strip. They said they were going on a strafing mission to the Japanese island of Kyushu. They were carrying droppable fuel tanks under their wings. Just before noon one of our men in the shop who was standing in the doorway yelled at us to come out - a P-51 had come in over the field and had dropped a red flare indicating he was in trouble and was coming in for an emergency landing. He had his wheels down and was swinging in off land over the water - it looked as though he was having a hard time flying it appeared. He came in over the end of the runway too high - cut the engine and stalled it about 25 feet above the runway - he hit and bounced and it looked as though he'd go off the runway when it appeared that he put in too much rudder and almost went off the other side - it continued to weave back and forth and finally we could see that he'd completely lost control. The ship left the runway barely missing some parked B-24's from which mechanics were running as fast as they could to get out of the way. It started heading straight for us but we got out of there fast, when finally it ground looped and came to a stop right side up only about 200 yards from where we were standing. A fire truck and ambulance were coming down the line fast. We started running out of there and by the time we'd arrived they lifted the pilot out of the plane and laid him on a stretcher on the ground. Right there I saw another sight I shall never forget. The pilot was a young kid - couldn't have been more than 21 years old. His left shoulder and back were torn open and his back was soaked red with blood. He was dead. Evidently had hung on long enough to get his ship back and land and had passed out a few seconds after he had set his ship down. He was a nice looking kid - blond hair cut short. I couldn't help but think and wonder about his mother who'd be getting a telegram soon from the war department. They threw a cloth sheet over him, put him into the ambulance and drove off. When we looked over the plane we saw a large gapping hole just behind the cockpit where it appeared a large piece of anti aircraft shell "flack" had hit him. There was blood all over the seat and on the floor. It affected me a great deal - seeing a man die in the war for the first time. It brought the realization to me just exactly what war was and what it meant. I thought of my own little boy and wondered if this war would bring about the end of all those things whereby a nice young blond boy like that wouldn't have to go out and die on a stinking island like Okinawa again. I shall never forget it.
During the balance of that day I put on a demonstration of correctly adjusting one of the servo motors for the autopilot. I then went over to the Group Engineering Officer and together with the Lieutenant in charge of bombsight maintenance, we went over to the maintenance set up - there was a lot of things they'd have to get - providing they could get them. I made out a list of things for them that they would need and as it was I thought they could get along - they had a few sharp enlisted men that would do OK.
The Engineering Officer accompanied me over to the CO's office and I made my clearance through him. The Engineering Officer provided the transportation and I left on a jeep with an enlisted man driving for the ATC airstrip. We rode over the same territory I'd come over a couple days before. At the ATC office I was informed that they'd be able to get me out about 4:00 AM in the morning. As soon as I'd located a place to bunk for the night (the same tent and bunch of cots I'd been in a few nights before), I went over to the lister bag, drew a helmet full of water - went out behind the tent - took off the clothes and had a good spit bath - first bath I'd had since leaving Guam. I had a good supper - fried spam, and rice, coffee and baked peach pie. Then went over to the ATC office where they promised me someone would come over and wake me up at 3:00 AM so I'd be all ready to go at 4:00 on the plane for Guam. At that time the take offs and landings at Okinawa were only in the morning and evenings for security reasons. I put on a clean shirt and a clean pair of pants then laid down on the cot - using my rain slicker as a pillow and felt pretty good about it all - I was glad to be on the way back to Guam and old C.H. Smith. It's not so easy to be all alone in a place like Okinawa in the confused state of everything, but I'd done a good job up there and I was glad about that.
On that morning of June 28th I woke up while it was still dark - it was a quarter to three and I had myself washed and had brushed the teeth when the enlisted man came in to get me. At that hour of the day there seemed to be lots of activity around us. Bull dozers, trucks, airplane engines being run up. I went over to the mess hall tent and things were already beginning to stir around there - the coffee was hot but like all army coffee - it tasted like something altogether different. Bread and scrambled eggs made from powdered eggs. I filled my canteen, collected my gear, then went down to the ATC office and found to my wishes that I was still on the "loading list". A little before 4:00 AM we were alerted and 14 men besides myself boarded the plane - another C-46. They were dandy airplanes - very roomy and a lot faster than the C-47's. We had two high ranking naval officers aboard. The rest were air corps officers. There was a lot of stuff packed up near the front end which appeared to be mail.
We took off over water - circling around and coming back over the island in a southeasterly direction. For over 10 minutes we stayed within 1,000 feet of the ground and water - I could see a lot of ships off to the left up along the shore of the island. We went up to around five or six thousand feet and stayed there all the way to Iwo. Even though we had some high navy brass aboard we still were not permitted to smoke.
The trip down to Iwo was uneventful with the exception that there were many small tropical rain squalls which we'd circle around. These local rain squalls were characteristic of the Pacific. There would be a large cloud with the shaded dark rain extending down into the water. In some instances one could see many of them - as many as six or eight at a time and there would always be the accompanying rainbows in them to add to the color. We landed at Iwo Jima and stayed there long enough to drop off the dozen air corps officers, pick up some more freight and some more men. These fellows were Sea-Bees and they were going to Saipan. I talked to one of the fellows sitting next to me and learned that he was in underwater demolition - what a rugged duty - their job was to go into a landing beach just prior to the time the marines would land and blow up all the underwater defenses the Japs would have set up. He'd been on the Iwo Jima and Okinawa landings and was going back to Saipan for a rest before they tackled another one. I suppose at that time that the next one would perhaps be the Japanese home islands. He was a rugged looking type of individual - powerfully built. He said he'd been in salvage work at San Diego, San Francisco, and all up and down the west coast prior to the war. Said it was tough work but that he'd enjoyed it - how anyone could have gone for that was beyond me.
We saw lots of ships between Iwo and Saipan - small convoys of merchant ships with destroyer escort. At one time we saw three PT boats close together. It was hard to see them but one could clearly see the wake they kicked up. We landed at Saipan about 11:45 AM. My lunch consisted of doughnuts and coffee served by a pretty Red Cross girl. I wondered how these girls kept themselves looking so nice out here - maybe they looked nice only because one rarely saw them.
We could look down at Iseley Field where the 73rd Wing, B-29's was located. They were moving ships around pulling them into lines with cleat tracks (caterpillar on rubber treads) and there were a lot of trucks and hustle bustle down there so I presumed they were getting ready for a take off. We took off for Guam at 1:00 PM From the air I could see the long lines of B-29's parked in straight rows along taxi strips leading up to the main runways on both Iseley Field, Saipan and over on the 58th Wing base on Tinian - looked like a powerful strike on Japan in the making (I later found out when our own Wing 315th on Guam started flying empire strikes that ships were lined up like that half a day before take off).
There was a good deal of activity going on the northwest side of Saipan. It appeared that there was a practice amphibious landing going on down there. Long lines of landing barges were coming in toward the shore and out a few miles in the ocean near some ships we could see other landing barges forming and coming in - quite a sight from the air. About an hour later we passed the Jap held island of Rota and then a short while later the north tip of Guam slipped under our left wing. I looked down and tried to spot where my little "home" was located - I could determine the area but couldn't see the tent because of the jungle. We came up alongside the bathing beach and he let down just over the 20th AF Headquarters and we landed on Harmon Field airstrip.
After clearing at the ATC office I got on a telephone and contacted John Anderson over at 20th AF. John came over in a few minutes and picked me up. I could notice that it was hotter on Guam than on Okinawa. John took me along in his jeep up to his office where I gave him the report on the Okinawa trip. At 5:15 PM we went over to the 20th AF officer's club where they had the finest bar (next to the fleet club bar at Admiral Nimitz' Headquarters). All officers instead of getting one quart of liquor as we did over in the 315th Wing would turn in their ration and receive instead a small book of 20 coupons per week. Each coupon would be worth one drink over the bar. John didn't care for hard liquor but he did like beer so I had three snorts while he drank two bottles of beer. On the south wall of their club they had two pictures of Air Corps Generals - Hap Arnold and Curtis Lemay. Above their bar was the insignia and broken propeller of a Jap "Zero" airplane. Around the north and west side was a veranda from which one could sit and look down upon the ocean - and our bathing beach. It was very nice and I enjoyed it. Saw all kinds of high brass there.
Following this we went over to the 20th AF officer's mess (same one I'd eaten ate first day in Guam). Had mutton, potatoes, carrots and peas, pineapple juice (with ice), and baked apple pie. It was the best meal I'd had for a long time and it sure tasted wonderful. John took me back to Northwest Field after supper and as we couldn't locate Smith anywhere at the time, he left me at my tent and started back to 20th AF Headquarters.
It was 7 o'clock and already starting to get dark. I found all my stuff OK except that there was a quarter inch of green mold all over my dress shoes and my little leather bag. Lt. Russ Riley came in and welcomed me back and said Smith was up in our 331st officer's club tent - telling stories to the fellows. As he was on his way over there I told him to tell Smith that I was back. A few minutes later Smith, Waltanski, and Jesse Williams stepped into my tent, "Well Herb - your back - thought you'd be gone at least a week." It seemed good to see old Smith. "Before I forget to tell you - Colonel Hatfield wants you over at Wing as soon as possible. We've got over half our Wing airplanes here now and things are about to happen. I came over to help Jesse and Walt drink up a bottle of their snake bite remedy so let's go back up to the club tent." Smith was wearing a tennis shoe on the left foot he'd cut down at the beach. "That's Duffy's shoe", he said. "He's got a hell of a big foot - must be 14's anyway." When the four of us walked into the tent the men started calling for Smith again, "C'mon Smith you gotta tell us that 'Grafter's' story again." So Smith sat down on the bench in the middle of the tent and went through the procedure of telling his most famous story. That one led to a few more of his choice ones.
My roommate was in bed when I went back to my bunk. "Where have you been?" he asked. I told him and that's all that was said. I crawled under my netting and thought how nice it felt to be back on Guam again.
As hard as that old cot was it was still hard for me to get out of bed the next morning. When I woke up some of the fellows had already been down for breakfast and were back tiding up their tents. Finally Chaplain Gaines stopped outside and when he saw me in bed he said, "Bach! What is the meaning of this? Are you still an elite civilian or are you in the army? For God's sake get your dead ass out of the sack." All this was friendly chaffing but it rather surprised me to hear a member of clergy use that kind of language. He hadn't had breakfast either so when I was ready the two of us went down to the mess tent. On the way I noticed a quite a few rows of new tents put up - they were the flight crews that had arrived while I'd been in Okinawa. They'd had to pitch their own tents and set up rugged housekeeping same as everyone else had done before.
At breakfast I saw Colonel's Peyton and Mackey and gave them a short account of my trip to Okinawa. Following breakfast I got down to the motor pool, checked out my jeep and started for Wing Headquarters. On the way over there I took the perimeter road (one leading around one end of the runways) and here I caught a glimpse of the field. Gosh, but things had developed. The two main runways were all finished - most of the taxi strips were done and it appeared they were working on the hardstands mainly. There were about 75 B-29's on the south side of the field and about 50 on the north side. Things were sure picking up fast. I was more amazed at seeing the progress in a few days on building construction in Wing Headquarters area. As I drove up to the office building of S-2, I noticed that they were working on the large consolidated briefing room building and it was nearing completion.
Colonel Hatfield was not in when I reported to the S-2 section but Major Chapman was there, and for about two hours until the Colonel came in, he went over the procedure as would be used by the Wing in briefings and interrogations and the part I was to play in it. Between now and the date of the Wing's first empire strike, the flight crews would make three orientation and training flights: the Jap held island of Rota - just north of Guam; Piyoris - Jap held island just north of Iwo Jima; and then the Jap naval base island of Truk - 950 miles southeast of Guam. Daylight regular pictures and radar scope camera pictures would be made previous to the mission by photo-reconnaissance airplanes and we'd have them. Also all data would be given to us on weather from the weather section, also, we would have all data from operations on altitude, airspeed, etc. My job would be briefing on AGLD and C-1 setting up procedures during flight and over target area. They had the dope on the island of Rota there at the time so I set down at a table and started getting ready on that. I'd done lots of that sort of thing back at Great Bend, Kansas, and McCook, Nebraska, so it was old stuff to me.
Colonel Hatfield brought in a new plan that had been devised by a Staff Sergeant there in the department. I agreed with him that the system was swell and we used it all the rest of the summer - until the war was over. The idea was to place the blown up aerial picture of the target on a stand in front of the room. Project the radar scope picture on it so that the two conformed then brush in lightly some fluorescent paint on to the outline of the radar scope image. Then a battery of ultra violet lamps taken from airplane instrument panels was placed around it. During briefing the bombardier and radar operator would be shown the actual photograph of the target and familiarized with the main parts - then the ultra violet lamps would be turned on and he'd see it exactly as he'd see it on his radar scope. It was a dandy method of presenting the target information to these men. I'd have to get the information ahead of time over there on weather, planned altitude and airspeed of bombing to give them a plan on correct set up procedure for the autopilot and ALGD. For example: high altitude and high air speed - high sensitivity and low ratio settings, or low altitude and high airspeed: high sensitivity and high ratio, etc., etc. Pilots had to be briefed on high accurate C-1 autopilot set up. Bombardiers and radar operators and navigators on their landfall, initial point, aiming point and target. I would meet each group on the afternoon preceding day of mission and spend two hours with them - one half hour with each group.
I had lunch at Wing Mess that noon then went back over to S-2 for a few hours. I was ready for the Rota briefing so with the instructions that they'd inform through 331st message center when to be there. I got into the jeep and decided I'd go over to the 16th Group area and look up some of my old Dyersburg friends. I saw Colonel Sam Gurney right off. He hadn't changed much and he remembered me. He was the same type of individual he'd been in Dyersburg when I knew him - fiery and energetic as could be. He was very disgusted with the situation as a whole. "How in name of hell can we operate out of here when we can't get decent living, food, maintenance, or anything?", he said. All I heard while I was with him the few minutes I was there was cussing about the situation (he was later to be dismissed from command of the 16th Group much to the disappointment of the men under him because he had guts enough to get up in a staff meeting and really tell off General Armstrong and General Lemay).
I went over to the 16th Group operations office where I saw Colonel Rawls. He and I had worked closely together down at Dyersburg, Tennessee during the summer of 1944. Rawls was another darn good officer in my estimation. I learned from him where Tex Maresh was living but when I got over there I was informed that Tex and a bunch of the fellows had gone down to the beach for the afternoon. I then went over to the 501st area and located Toby Tuthill - we had a couple of beers together and I went home.
That night we had our first picture show in the 331st area. It was Walter Pidgeon and Heddy Lamar in "White Cargo". An area had been cleared out of the jungle on the side of a slope - stools made from bomb crates had been set in there in rows for the men to sit on. A large screen was made by painting a board white and this sat down on the bottom of the slope. There was room for about 2,000 men to sit and watch the movie. This area would also be used for a chapel for religious services by both Catholics and Protestants.
It was raining when I woke up on the morning of June 30th - this was the rainy season on Guam and would continue being that until approximately Sept. 21st. It just meant that it would rain a dozen or more times a day instead of about six times. A cloud would move in over the island and all of a sudden it would pour down hard for a few minutes and then as suddenly as it started it would end.
While shaving - which was done outside the tent using a small mirror tacked onto a coconut tree I decided I looked so bad I'd better get in contact with one of the fellows in the group that cut hair. At breakfast the fellows told me that the best barber in the outfit was an Italian that worked as the dentist's assistant. So over there I went as soon as I'd tidied up the tent a bit. He took me over under a banyan tree where he'd set up shop. He'd built a barber chair out of a box. There was no cloth to put around one's neck so the hair would get down your neck and back, but he had a paint brush that he'd use to try brushing the hair off. He used a hand clipper, scissors and comb. Talked continually during the ordeal just like any other barber back home would do. Said he'd been the operator of a woman's beauty salon in New York City. I had him cut my hair real short - about one-half inch long as it was much easier to keep it clean that way. I was digging hair off my back for the rest of that day.
That noon I was informed by Wing S-2 to be over there at 9:00 AM the following morning. Smith came over and told me that John Anderson had called that he was getting a few of the fellows down from Saipan and Tinian for a get together and also the boys from the 314th Wing. He wanted Smith and I to come down to his office by 2:00 PM as he'd arranged a trip on a PT boat for the bunch of fellows (it was one of the boats used by air - sea rescue and was like a PT boat with the exception that they'd taken the guns and torpedo tubes off.
Smith picked me up about 12:30 PM and we stopped down on the field for a few minutes while Smith checked into a few situations in the maintenance shops. We arrived down at 20th AF Headquarters - John's office about 1:15 PM. There we met the other Honeywell men whom John had called in from the Mariana's bases; Charlie Webber and Miller from Saipan, also Bill Ebletoft and Stardahl from 314th Wing and Ed Wascavage from Tinian. Smith had known them all from previous contacts in the states. I'd met Ebletoft back at SE Division conference at Jacksonville, Florida in August of 1944.
John had secured a 6 by 6 truck and we set off for Apri Harbor Naval Base on the southwestern end of the island where neither Smith or I had been before. About four miles south of Aguana we came to the naval area. It was pretty well built up with quonset huts and prefabricated buildings - there were no tents. Up on a plateau overlooking the entire bay and area was Admi