Click here for “A Tough Month For The Fifth Group”
Click here for “Selections From The Diary of Oscar Fitzhenry”
At 0036 hours on the morning of September
30,1944 on Noemfoor Island, Netherlands East Indies, a B-24 Liberator of the
394th Bomb Group known as the " Mary Day " piloted by 1st Lt Russell
taxied onto the runway, locked its brakes, raced its engines convulsively,
released its brakes, opened the throttles wide and began eating up the 7,000
foot runway, easing its 34 tons into the air within the last 1,000 feet. The
target for today was Balikpapan, Borneo--to the Japanese refineries which
produced 40% of Japan' s aviation fuel. The round trip flight was 2610 miles
entirely over water and enemy held territory--the longest daylight mass
formation ever flown by a B-24 aircraft. The " Mary Day " carried
3,500 gallons of fuel. The bomb load was 1 1/4 tons. When the "Mary Day
" weighed-in, she tipped the beam at more that 12,000 lbs over the
recommended load.
Over Cape Manimboga the strike force
assembled. The crewmembers of the " Mary Day " checked and rechecked
their equipment. They knew that the Japanese would put everything in their
power up in the air to stop the raid. The crew knew that the refinery was
defended by Japanese fighter planes and antiaircraft guns. At 250 miles from
the target a Japanese reconnaissance plane spotted the bomber formation and called
it in. The Japanese would be waiting.
Fifteen minutes from the refinery about 30 Japanese Zero's rose to attack the bomb group. The enemy fighter pilots were experienced, determined, and aggressive. The gunners of the " Mary Day " opened fire from their 50-cal. machine guns as the fighters closed in. A Zero started firing on the " Mary Day" at 900 yards away, the tail gunner shot up the cockpit of it, and it burst into flames and went down. The top turret gunner spotted a Zero at 1,000 yards and closing fast, firing until almost 300 yards until the gunner found his target and flamed it out. A head-on attack was shot up by the nose gunner and as the Zero went under the Mary Day, the ball turret gunner finished him off. Over and over the fighters kept up the attack until the group got near the target. The Zeros broke off and the ground fire from the antiaircraft guns started. Though the flak filled skies the bombers came. The " Mary Day" released her bombs as flak peppered the aircraft. Flak knocked out the hydraulic lines, bomb bay doors and lines to the nose turret. The " Mary Day " cleared the target area and the fighters attacked again. A fighter came in firing at the waist gunner and the gunner put about 76 rounds into the cockpit; it went down smoking.
The attack kept up for 30 more minutes
from the target until they broke off. Lt. Russell assessed the damage and knew
he would not be able to make it back to Noemfoor so he headed for the closest
airstrip on Morotai, which wasn't completed but was the only one he could make.
With the hydraulic lines shot up the brakes wouldn't work so the crew hooked
their parachutes to the aircraft interior and upon landing threw the chutes out
the window to slow it down. On Impact the landing gear broke and the aircraft
veered off the runway and came to rest on some corral reef. Sgt. Jack Phillips
was hurt in the landing but all other crewmembers were OK.
Of the 6 bombers of the 394th Bomb Group
that took off that morning, one turned back after takeoff because of engine
trouble. One crashed at the refinery with the loss of all 10 crewmembers. One
crashed into the sea but all members were rescued. Two made it back to
Noemfoor, badly damaged but safe and the " Mary Day" was pushed out
of the way by bulldozers as work continued on the runway. The "Mary
Day" never flew again. The 5th Bomb Group was awarded the Presidential
Unit Citation and all members received Air Medals for gallantry and devotion to
duty.
Submitted by Daniel Philllips, son of Sgt. Talbert Jackson Phillips, one of the waist gunners on the Mary Day.
*****************************************************************************************
(The
following war story is reprinted from S. Sidney Ulmer, Waist Gunner, Xlibris,
2000, pp. 219-242)
A TOUGH MONTH FOR THE 5TH GROUP
NOVEMBER
1944
INTRODUCTION
After completing 23 missions and surviving the
strike on Balikpapan on September 30, 1944 I was ready for a break. I got one immediately following that strike
with rest leave in Sydney. Upon my
return to Morotai, I was pretty upbeat.
I had conquered Sydney and all its many attractions/temptations and was
somewhat rested from the rigors of aerial combat. In my head I caressed the notion that compared to Balikpapan my
remaining missions may not be milk runs, but perhaps they would not be as
stressful (gut- wrenching) as Balikpapan.
How wrong I was! And my naiveté
was never more evident than in the month of November 1944.
The 31st was based on Morotai with the 5th Group
at that time and flew most of its missions with the Group. In November the Group flew 21 missions -- 17
of which were flown against Japanese air bases in the Philippines. Most of these were strikes against airdromes
on Negros Island. One was against
Japanese headquarters on Leyte and one was flown to Borneo. The two remaining missions were against
Japanese shipping. One was a strike
against a Japanese reinforcing convoy off Ormoc Bay, Leyte on November
2nd. The other was the well-known
strike against Japanese warships sitting in Brunei Bay, Borneo on November
16th, 1944. Losses to the Group during
the month were significant. A total of
21 B-24's were lost to enemy action in November -- 12 in aerial combat.
NEGROS (AIRDROMES)
EMIG CREW
SHOT DOWN
My first November mission took place on November
7th. It had been preceded a week earlier by a Group mission to hit Alicante
Airdrome on Negros, PI. This was the
first land-based bomber strike on Negros. And it cost us the loss of John Emig
and his crew, who were shot down by attacking Japanese fighters. Two of the
crew were killed in the attack. The
other crewmembers bailed out. Several
were seriously wounded--one with a shell embedded five inches in his thigh--
and were later strafed after hitting the water. John Duarte and Bob Mahanes, sought to make land in a rubber
raft. Later that same day, two other crewmembers, Lt. Harris and T/Sgt. Frank
Brown tried to make it to Negros in another raft. They were never heard from again. The remaining four men were on the water for 33 days until their
rafts beached and they were rescued by a Navy Catalina. The two who made land,
Duarte and Mahanes, were not rescued until December 20th, 51 days after taking
off from Morotai and after many exciting adventures living with natives and
evading the Japanese.
In addition, the Group mission to Ormoc Bay, PI
on November 2nd further enlightened us. The goal of the mission on the 2nd was
to see if we could interfere with a convoy that was reinforcing Japanese forces
still fighting on the island. Overall
it was a spectacular success since the 5th Group on that day deftly sank a
10,000-ton transport and damaged a second one.
A smoke screen laid by the Japanese did not deter the 5th Group.
Bomb
coverage on the transport was complete from stem to stern. The 31st Squadron
reported two bomb hits in the center of the ship followed by a terrific
explosion, flame and smoke. Before the
5th Group left the area only the stern of the ship could be seen, sitting
straight up in the air. All this
occurred while the Group was being attacked by 12 Zekes and 4 Oscars. Yet while 51 passes were made against the
Group, only three of the 24's were damaged by fighter fire. The 15,250 rounds of 50-caliber ammo we
expended may have had something to do with that outcome.
As the Group approached the area, it encountered
a veritable wall of anti-aircraft fire being put up by ships in the Bay. This wall was between shipping in the Bay
and 5th Group bombers. It was described by experienced personnel as the most
accurate and intense anti-aircraft fire they had ever seen. It was coming from a flak ship with 20
anti-aircraft mounts (visible in aerial photographs) and seven naval vessels
sitting in the Bay. The warships had
been shelling eastern Leyte, but as we approached, they turned all their
attention toward the Group.
As is always the case, naval anti-aircraft fire
is concentrated and especially dangerous for B-24's, given their slow speed at
altitudes of 9,000 to 10,000 feet. So one
can't be surprised to learn that the anti-aircraft fire damaged 7 B-24's,
including one of those already hit by fighter fire. But all returned safely to base while the Japanese lost three of
their fighters to our fighter cover.
Thus, on the 7th of November, we all knew that in
the preceding week the Emig crew had been jumped by 20 to 30 Japanese fighters
in the vicinity of Negros and that the Group had been hit by 16 Japanese
fighters and ferocious flak on November 2nd.
We recognized that we were about to participate in a bombing phase
designed to support MacArthur's efforts to retake the Philippines. And the talk around the men's tents was that
these missions were likely to be challenging. So we were somewhat apprehensive
when told that our mission on November 7th would be Fabrica and Alicante
airdromes on Negros.
A
TROUBLED DEPARTURE
On the day of the strike, we were waked in our tent at 0300 after a
Japanese bombing raid earlier that night.
Takeoff was set for 0540 at 65-second intervals. Once at the strip, in
line, with engines running, we were suddenly alerted and ordered off the
plane. The Japanese were bombing and
strafing Pitoe strip and we had to wait about 30 minutes until an all clear had
sounded and some debris was removed from the strip. When, ostensibly, the raid was over, we resumed takeoff. But as we went down the strip in A/C 613,
the same aircraft in which I had flown to Balikpapan, Japanese fighters were
actually strafing the adjacent strip.
But we got off successfully and looked for the fighters, P-38's and
P-47's that were scheduled to accompany us.
However, prior to reaching Mindanao on the way up, we lost the fighters
-- due to weather -- and we saw no more of them that day. So this was a mission without fighter cover,
as -- because of distance -- most of our missions had been to that time.
The 23rd Squadron led the mission with the 31st,
394th and the 72nd taking off in that order.
At Negros the entire Group flew over both Fabrica and Alicante airfields
in order to maintain maximum gun power against any enemy fighters that might
rise to meet us--with the 23rd and the 31st dropping on Fabrica and the other
squadrons on Alicante. Although Japanese fighters were spotted at several
points during the actual bombing, none attacked at that point. We then headed
for home.
A
SURPRISE ATTACK
About an hour and a half later, we were
approaching Mindanao -- still at our guns and riding along comfortably. It was midday
and I was hungry. So over the intercom I asked my pilot, Pat Earhart, if we
could eat lunch. He said: "Go
ahead but stay alert." So at 1239 I was sitting in the tail eating from a
can of C rations when a gaggle of Japanese fighters began an attack. I first spotted four specks at 9:00 o'clock
high. The mission report describes what
followed this way:
"The enemy attack was made by six Zekes on a
lagging 24 in the rear. This plane
[from the 72nd squadron] was reported to be on fire with smoke coming from the
fuselage, however some crews were definite it was not on fire until it
exploded. Some crews reported that only
the top turret returned the enemy fire.
The B-24 gained speed and caught up with the formation, slightly below
it, then made a left turn. At least 5
men were observed to jump and believed to have landed within a maximum distance
of four miles from Sila Point."
Other Fighters quickly joined the fray and the mission report estimates 19
fighters in all: 4 Tonys, 2 Tojos, 2 Zeke 32's, and 11 Zekes. Over the next 19 minutes, 104 passes
were made at the formation. And two
more B-24's were quickly lost, one flown by Lt. McFarlane of the 72nd, the
other by Lt. Robinson of the 23rd squadron.
The Japanese pilots were very aggressive and
eager. They appeared to be quite experienced. And they were so intent on doing
us in that they flew within 25 feet of our planes and on several occasions
almost collided with a bomber.1 Other crews reported similar experiences. As for
the pilots, I remember that after the mission there was widespread speculation
that the pilots must have been German since no one believed that Japanese
fighter pilots were so skilled or courageous.
WE
LEAVE THE SQUADRON TO COVER DOWNED CREWS
As
the two 72nd planes went down close by me on the right, I informed Earhart and
counted six parachutes for him as they blossomed. I also informed him that the
Japanese were strafing the men in their chutes, as they were wont to do on many
occasions. On hearing that, Earhart immediately replied: "Hold on, we are
going down to cover those men." And going down we did in a fast spiral
that, in my opinion, crossed the red line. The radioman on my crew, Stuart
Clemmer, told me later that he only heard
"We are going down…" which, as he puts it, "scared the
hell out of me."
As
for those of us in the rear of the plane, the centrifugal forces occasioned by
the circling dive immobilized me in the tail and had the waist gunners holding
on for dear life. We finally pulled out over Murcielagos Bay off Mindanao at
what seemed about 10 (but probably was
30) feet off the water. At any rate, we
were so low that the ball turret gunner, Dave Hopson, felt it necessary to
remind Earhart that he, Hopson, was still in the ball.
The story
of the second 72nd plane, piloted by Lt. McFarlane, is one of great courage and
valor. This plane was flying along at
the rear of the formation when the first plane was hit. When the crew of the first 72nd plane bailed
out, McFarlane dropped back to cover the flyers that were being strafed in
their parachutes. But when nobody
covered McFarlane and his crew, they were quickly shot down. First they took a 20-mm shell through the
front windshield -- hitting the top turret gunner in the back. The navigator,
Peter Traber, "took a shower in his blood". One crewmember panicked, left his post and had to be calmed down.
Another was screaming.
Explosions and fire erupted in the waist
and bomb bay. But when it was obvious there was no longer hope, the crew
started bailing out. Six of the crew went first, followed by Traber and one
other crewmember. Both the top turret
gunner and a waist gunner were killed and went down with the plane. Traber
starkly describes his jump as follows:
"As I jumped, I planned a delayed opening of
the parachute to preclude being strafed by the zeros. At the point of departure, our altitude was 10,000 feet; I pulled
on the release at approximately 4,000 feet.
I experienced a sharp pain in my ears and quite a jolt when the
parachute opened. Even though I was
quite sure that the chute was free of the burning plane, I looked up
apprehensively. For the next few moments, I considered options on what to
do. Since it appeared imminent that I
would land in a lagoon on Northern Mindanao, I prepared for a water
landing. To avoid being trapped in the
chute, I unlocked the leg straps at about a couple of hundred feet. When I hit the water, I unlocked the chest
straps, freeing myself completely.
Here, I tried to inflate the Mae West, which didn't work, so I had to
swim. (A Mae West was a rubber jacket
that when inflated would keep you afloat. ) Fortunately I didn't have to swim
long before I got into shallow water.
In the meantime, hundreds of rowboats with
outriggers attached were rowing in my direction. Although they were Philippine natives, I wasn't sure because some
looked like Japanese. I had difficulty
hearing and my hair and uniform were covered with blood. Some were pointing at
my head so I wasn't sure whether I had been shot. When we reached the village and I saw women, children, pigs, and
chickens, I felt safe. When I washed up and felt no wounds, it was further
relief. The Filipinos took my bloody
uniform, GI shoes, and all my clothing.
These were replaced with a straw hat, white shirt, white trousers, white
sox, black belt, and black shoes. My apparel remained the same for the five-day
stay and eventual rescue. Under the Geneva Convention rules I could been shot
as a spy for not being in uniform behind enemy lines."2
As I, Earhart and the boys leveled off at water
level, we saw six men in the water who appeared to be a mile or two from shore.
These were the six men from the Traber crew who bailed out prior to Traber and
his colleague, the same six members of the crew I had spotted bailing out
earlier. We spent quite a while protecting the men in the water, and preventing
further strafing by the Japanese at their ease. As we flew back and forth over the bay, the Japanese fighters
that had followed us down accompanied us. The fact that we were so close to the
water created a problem for the fighters. They could not dive past us as they
normally did. Coming in very fast and eager, some chose to fly over a few feet above us but when they did
we got good shots at them, both coming and going. Our ball turret gunner, Dave
Hopson, thinks he shot down one Zeke as a pair zoomed over us at low altitude
and flew in a straight line for too long after passing over our plane. While
protecting the flyers in the water, we also dropped needed supplies. The mission report contains the following
statement:
" A/C 613, Lt. Earhart, gave aerial
protection to survivors of one of our crashed crews for one hour and a half,
during which time he dropped three one-man life rafts one larger raft, two
packets of marker and an emergency kit.
All this equipment was picked up by the crewmembers. Also during this time he observed natives in
canoes picking up the crewmembers. They had six members of the crew when Lt.
Earhart had to return to base. The
natives appeared friendly, waving to the plane. The rescued crew members waved also."3
BAD
WEATHER AND COLONEL MUSGRAVE
Flying back to Morotai, and short on gas, we encountered terrible weather
-- some of the worst I have ever seen.
Suddenly we would bounce up, then shoot down, jumping all over the
place. The sky was dark and we had some
trouble finding the base. (I remember
being quite concerned at this point) The fog and rain made it impossible to see
the strip until we were 50 feet from ground level. On landing, we bounced up
about six feet. (Though it seemed like sixteen.) I later said to Earhart
--"That must have been the copilot landing." He replied: "It was I. There's no way I
would let the copilot land under these conditions." After landing, Earhart
was summoned by Colonel Musgrave, the Group Commander.
According to Earhart, the Colonel proceeded to give him a royal chewing
for leaving the formation. This is not surprising given the fact that we were
constantly told never to leave a formation to assist another plane. Not only
did Earhart leave the formation; on this day he was the 31st Squadron leader
and had to turn the Squadron over to someone else before we could assist a crew
from another Squadron. He did turn the
31st over to Clyde Avery who proceeded to take the remaining five ships on back
to Morotai. In doing so, Avery apparently encountered the weather we were
destined to see since his log shows he was on instruments for two hours on the
way home.
Later, not too long before he
died, Pat told me that Musgrave was right.
He said: "Sid, if I had it to do over again, I would not have left
the squadron. It was a foolish thing to do." Yet, I know of a number of
instances, before and after the November 7th mission, when B-24's left
formations to come to the assistance of other crews. And even on the November 7th strike to Negros, we see a 72nd
plane trying to help another. But it
paid a price -- which underscores the wisdom of Musgrave's teaching.4 Later, when the six rescued
flyers were returned to Morotai by Catalina, some came around to our tent and
thanked us for "saving their lives." For our crew at least, this
tended to put Colonel Musgrave's condemnation in proper perspective. And it
reminds us that rational men may choose to behave irrationally or in violation
of orders when the emotional currents running through an event are sufficiently
robust.5
LT.
ROBINSON'S PLANE LOST
Lt.
Robinson, of the 23rd Squadron, flew the third plane lost on November 7th. The
damage to his plane occurred on three initial passes by Zekes, which pressed to
within 25 yards of his plane. In these
initial attacks, some of the controls were shot out and this caused the plane
to glide to the left. The ball turret
was also damaged and no longer functioned.
Seeing Robinson's predicament, other Zekes now swarmed the plane. The
meaning of the word "swarmed" is easily sensed when one specifically
describes the passes Robinson and his crew endured. According to the mission report, which breaks the passes down
into high, low and level attacks, the following passes occurred: High-- one
from 7:00 o'clock, one from 6:00 o'clock, one from 4:00 o'clock, and three from
12:00 o'clock: Level-- one from 2:00 o'clock, four from 3:00 o'clock, one from
7:00 o'clock, one from 8:00 o'clock, three from 9:00 o'clock, two from 1:00
o'clock, and two from 11:00 o'clock:
Low-- one from 6:30 and one from 5:00 o'clock
These attacks killed staff Sergeant Walter C.
Donnell who had a 20-mm shell explode in his abdomen. Sergeant Robert C. Bowers, Staff Sergeant Albert W. Meyer, and
Staff Sergeant John F. Carney were seriously wounded. On top of all that, the crew ran out of ammunition just as the
Japanese concluded their attacks. Their
plane was severely damaged. It no
longer had rudder, trim tabs, and elevator controls. Only the right aileron was operative. None of the direct current electrical systems were
functioning. All the radio equipment
had been shot out, including the intercom.
All hydraulic systems were out of commission. And the plane was flying at a 30-degree angle to the
horizontal. But it was still flying.
Robinson decided to head for San Pablo on Leyte.
Reaching there safely, he first flew over strip number one. But workers on the ground did not clear the
strip, so he could not land. Had he
done so a number of people would have been killed. So Robinson proceeded to strip number two. He was afraid to put
his wheels down for fear he would lose what little control he had of the
plane. So he prepared for a belly
landing--the only preparation for which was leaving an uninjured crewmember in
the waist to hold down the wounded man who could not be moved to the flight
deck.
Since the plane would mush out at a 160 mph, the
landing was made at 170 mph. Just
before reaching the ground, feathering buttons were pulled but the propellers
failed to feather. Upon hitting the
ground, the number 1 and 3 propellers flew off; the plane slid 4,000 feet and
stopped on the runway. Number 3 engine
caught fire but was quickly put out. After the crash, a count was made of the
holes in the plane. The count showed that 396 holes were caused by 7.7-mm ammo
and 28 by 20-mm shells. The only injury to a crewmember resulting from the
crash was to Lt. Robert C. Hoeksema whose eyes were damaged by flying glass.
Given
all of the mayhem that the Japanese inflicted on the 5th group on November 7th,
1944 one might wonder what price we extracted in return. Well, it was substantial. Eight Japanese fighters were shot down in
aerial combat, Robinson's crew getting two of those. The 394th got one Zeke and damaged two Tojos. The 72nd Squadron shot down one Zeke
32. The 31st Squadron shot down four
Zekes and had one additional probable. The particular individuals in the 31st
who made the kills were-- Corporal Stegma, Corporal Kukarula, Corporal
Finkboner, and Staff Sergeant Neely. In addition to these aerial losses, our
bombing of the Alicante and Fabrica airdromes resulted in 6 aircraft being
destroyed and 11 severely damaged on the ground. As for the strips, both were filled with so many holes they looked like Swiss cheese. So there is little doubt that, in spite of
our losses, the 5th Group discharged its responsibilities with great success on
November 7th, 1944. MacArthur needed our help in his Philippine campaign. On
that day, we gave it to him.
BRUNEI
BAY (SHIPPING)
On November 16th, 1944 I was flying the tail with
Pat Earhart and my crew in A/C 935. Former 31st Commander, Beach
Thurlow, was also on the trip--flying as copilot with a 394th crew.
It was his first mission. As we cleared the end of the runway, our
anti-aircraft gunners gave us a rousing "bon voyage" of friendly
fire. We were headed for Brunei bay in Northwest Borneo where a sizable group
of Japanese warships had been sighted.
The convoy included three battleships, six cruisers, five destroyers,
five cargo ships and a large number of barges.
This fleet was on its way to the Philippines to support and supply Japanese
forces still fighting on Luzon and other Philippine Islands. We were 26 planes
in number (7 from the 31st) and were accompanied by three squadrons of the
307th bomb group. We also were covered by a flight of P-38's. We were in combat
box formation.
SAALFIELD
ON FIRE
The 23rd Squadron was in the lead with Squadron
Commander Major Saalfield leading the Group in A/C 387. He was hit first about
8 to 10 miles before we reached the target, just as he was beginning his bomb
run. On fire, he peeled off immediately and took a NW heading. The pilot of one
of the P-38's providing our cover reported that Saalfield's crew bailed out
about an hour later. Also hit by the same bursts were Lt. Corberly in A/C 924
and Lt. Norris in the A/C 962. In my
mind's eye, this scene remains sharply focused after all these years.
I CALL
EARHART
I was flying along rather mesmerized by the
colorful display around me. Believe it
or not I found the display rather appealing in spite of the fear each flak burst
occasioned. Suddenly I looked to my right and, astonished, saw two planes
quickly start to descend. In the midst
of all this, I immediately called Earhart on the intercom and calmly
said-"There goes one, there goes two", for they started to descend only
seconds apart. Earhart replied
"What?" in such a loud voice
he almost burst my eardrums. He was clearly surprised, if not shocked. For it
was unusual for two planes flying wing-to-wing to go down in tandem in a matter
of seconds, particularly when we had experienced a similar event only 9 days
earlier. I then spelled out the details, the exact location of the planes
relative to our position, whether anyone was bailing out, etc. We then went on in and dropped our bombs.
CORBERLY'S
DISASTER
Lt.
Corberly's plane took a big shell in the cockpit that killed the navigator,
blinded the nose gunner, and injured both pilots severely. The pilot had a fractured right leg and it
was bleeding profusely. He was also in
shock. The engineer, Jim Knoch, pulled
him out of his seat, gave him two shots of morphine, and put him down on the
flight deck. Although the plane was full of holes with the number three engine
stopped, and all hydraulic and electrical systems out of commission, the
copilot -- Jerry Rosenthal -- continued to try to fly the ship. But Rosenthal was badly wounded with a large
hole in his head. He started back
toward Morotai but only lasted about 20 minutes. Then, after giving a bailout signal, he died in his seat. So the
crewmembers dropped the pilot out the bomb bay door, popping his chute at the
same time. The copilot and navigator
were dead in the plane and went down with it to a watery grave. The rest of the crew bailed out over
Borneo. The wounded pilot died in the
jungles three days later. Other
crewmembers survived and spent seven months in Borneo living with natives and
dodging Japanese daily before being rescued and returned to Morotai.7
NORRIS
CREW BAILS OUT
The third plane to go down was that of Lt.
Norris. As Norris turned on to the bomb run a shell burst on his left wing and
knocked out his number two engine.
However he completed his bomb run without further damage. Subsequently he found that, in addition to
his number two engine freezing, the number two fuel cell had been hit and had
lost all its gas. He noted that his air
speed had been cut to 130 mph. Consequently, he decided to go as far as
possible on the remaining gas and headed for a friendly spot in the Talaud
Island area. He was in continual
contact with a Catalina for quite a while.
However, at 1630 radio silence occurred -- reasons unknown.
At this time, Norris thought he saw the Catalina
and having only 90 gallons of gas left for the remaining three engines, ordered
his crew to bail out. Altitude at that point was approximately 5000 feet. Lt.
Carlos Page, the navigator, jumped second and counted eight open chutes. Page later saw two men in a life raft that
evening but saw no one else before a Catalina picked him up at 1530 the
following day. As of December 10, 1944,
four members of the Norris crew had been saved. Norris was still listed as missing in action.
In
addition to the three planes lost on this mission, 23 of the 26 B-24's over the
target were damaged -- some severely.
But it was the flak that did the damage rather than fighters. In fact, only two fighters attacked us on
the mission. That was relatively light, as indicated by the fact that we
expended only 5,260 rounds of 50-caliber ammunition against approximately 15
passes. This compares with 31,200
rounds used on 104 passes on November 7th.
However, light the interception, the 31st apparently shot down one Jack.
The mission report is informative here:
"As the fighter zoomed through the formation
on his second pass, all gun positions were brought to bear on him and several
thousand rounds were fired at him. Smoke was seen to emerge in great quantities
from the cowling and the aircraft went out of control and dived into clouds
below the formation."
As for other results of the mission, the 31st
reported that it straddled a battleship with bombs and scored a direct
hit. The 394th claimed two direct hits
on a cruiser. And the 72nd claimed a hit and the sinking of another cruiser. As
soon as the bombs were dropped the 5th Group planes made violent evasive turns
in order to evade the intense ack-ack fire coming from the naval ships below.
As a consequence, 50 % of the bombs dropped were not photographed. This made it
difficult for Intelligence to evaluate our claims. But we did not know that at
the time and viewed our claims as a true reflection of the facts. Consequently
we had two reasons for elation-a real high--as we landed back on Morotai. First
we had survived a rather hectic day filled with surprises and, secondly, we
believed we had contributed significantly to the ongoing battle for the
Philippines. As for our losses, of course they were hard to take. But we always
hoped that any downed flyers would be rescued. And we had no doubt that the
sacrifice of our men and planes was worth the rewards to be gained for stopping
the Japanese.
___________________________________________________________
1 This was the
era of the Kamikazes, which came even closer. So one can't be surprised at the
courage or foolhardiness of these particular pilots.
2 This
quotation and other material pertaining to Traber's experiences on November 7,
1944 are from his unpublished memoirs, which he was kind enough to share with
me. The Filipinos who rescued Traber were
under the command of a guerrilla leader, a Major Quieda. Major Q, as he was called, was headquartered
only 20 miles from a Japanese stronghold.
The Major was the supreme power for his constituents. If he thought you a traitor, he might pull
his 45 and kill you on the spot.
However, Traber never witnessed any such incident.
The first decision that Traber and his copilot
made after capture was to travel only at night. The Filipinos were obviously frightened but said not a word. The reason for their fear later came to
light. At night they had to light
torches to avoid the crocodiles that came on land after dark. The torches made the travelers a target for
the Japanese. So, after the first
night, travel was conducted in the late afternoon.
After rescue by Catalina and return to Morotai,
Traber and his copilot were taken to 13th Air Force headquarters. There they met with General Street, the
Commanding Officer. The General and his
aide, a Colonel, interviewed them for several hours. They were able to provide much valuable information since they
were the first Americans in that part of the Philippines in three years.
3 Someone to
whom I told this story several weeks ago asked:” Did it not occur to you and
your fellow crewmembers that you may need some of the equipment you dropped
overboard before you got back to base?" Well--to tell the truth, the
thought had never occurred to me until that very moment. For we always thought
it would be "the other guy."
4
Why my crew did not suffer the same fate as McFarlane's plane is a mystery to me.
We left our squadron to help another crew in distress; therefore exposing
ourselves to the same danger that was fatal for the 72nd crew --even though the
crew we sought to help was not even in our squadron. In any event few days go
by that I don't thank God for our good fortune on November 7, 1944.
5 As for Pat Earhart, if he used poor
judgment in leaving his Squadron--a matter which I do not judge--it detracts
little from his overall record in the 31st. His crew considered him a
cracker-jack pilot. And I truly believe his ability to hold compass headings,
air speed, and altitudes steady--in short to fly tight formation no matter the
weather, flak, or attacking fighters --is the capsule reason why his crew
survived Balikpapan, Negros, Brunei Bay and other tough missions flown by the
31st Bomb Squadron. Toward the end of his tour, Earhart contracted hepatitis
and spent two months in the hospital. He died in Hawaii in 1999.
6 This comment is taken from Everett (Beach)
Thurlow's unpublished Memoirs and is used here with his permission.
7 For a lengthy interview with one of the survivors of the Corberly crew,
(the bombardier, Lt. Phillip R. Corrin) see: Bob Hamilton, Pacific War bird,
Princeton NJ, and Xlibris (1999) pp.337-353.
Ed. Note: This paper is based on my recollection of events fifty years after the fact, conversations with other veteran 5th Group members, and additional information gleaned from mission reports and histories on file at the Air force Historical Research Agency, Maxwell Field, Alabama.
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March
30, (Thursday) 1944
Yeager and I took a 5 hour cruise among the islands this morning. Had
an engine mounted on a boat with a wind propeller;
really had a good time;
Lots of fish, shells, sharks and weird jungle animals. Have radio report that
Robbiels crew is in trouble, Hine's crew is in the
drink (crash landed in ocean)
and no word from Glass's crew. The boys had 1 1/4
hour fight with zeros. Final
report is that
Glass' and Robbie's are OK and Dumbo (rescue sea plane) has
picked up
eight of Hine's crew.
March 31, (Friday) 1944
We're really sweating for the boys this morning.
Hine's and his copilot
were killed and the rest were picked up. Glass's
crew was missing, but at 1:30
AM (Saturday) we were told that a destroyer had
picked them up. The 72nd
is still missing David's crew. And two fellows on
Reese's crew were killed.
Heathco had a 7.7 go through his seat parachute and
lodged against his
holster. Klundt,
Robbie, LaHie crews were pretty well shot up. I'm flying
the next
mission mainly because I'm ticked off about not going home.
April 1, (Saturday) 1944 And again there is a Truk
mission in the making.
Our Sqdn is leading the two groups (307th & 5th)
and I'm going as deputy
group CO. We
were to take off at l:00 but I had an engine go out on my first
try for a
take off. Finally got off at 3:00 and reached Green at 5:00. Ate,
went
swimming and were briefed. Davis, Thompson, McConnell and I played
cards until
10:00.
April 2, (Sunday) 1944
We were awakened at 4:30, ate and were in the air at
7:00. Saw the 307th
ship that hit the grader on the runway. Gee, it was
just a mass of twisted metal
(two
crewmembers survived). We flew loose formation A.P.C. all the way up.
Made one frontal penetration (bad weather) and
arrived at a clear target
shortly after noon. We could see plenty of zeros in
the sky before turning on
the bomb
run. They hit us--Haps, Zekes, and Tojos, about 45 of them, eight
minutes before
bombs away. Several zeros dropped aerial bombs (phosphorus)
on us and one "simple fool", diving
straight down on us, released his bombs
and flew
into them, exploding the zero at the same time the bombs burst. We turned
off the target after dropping 3,000 lbs of
incendendiaries on the city of Dublon.
By this time Rauh was in a bad shape and called for
us to slow the formation down.
The zeros were attacking us from all frontal
positions; several passed so close
that they
appeared to be nothing but a shadow. I
could see them coming from
the side with all guns going at the same time. I could see the Col.'s ship
giving
out a full stream of lead. They attacked us at
12:32; at 1:45 Cader's ship hit
Zinner's,
knocked the tail off and poor old Zinner hit the drink.(ocean)
No one got out. By the time Cader's ship had one
engine feathered; Baker was
like a seive
(shot up) and out of formation. Rauh's
top turret gunner
and turret was shot out, his ball gunner was dead,
one engine was feathered
and the fourth was on fire. Several zeros attacked
them while they were out
of
formation, both were able to slide back under us.! A twenty mm cannon
shell hit
the Col's ship and exploded his oxygen bottles. Greene and I both
slid out,
thinking that he may explode any minute. He was OK though. The
last zero
made a pass at 11:20 shortly before this my top turret got one of them
and he burst
into flames. Davis (our navigator) was handing him ammunition
all this
time. He had already used his first 800 rounds.
After the fight one 24 was
down (Zinner) . Rauh was in bad shape,
Baker
had five men and himself wounded, his controls shot out. Cader had
an engine feathered and Stonarkay had one man
dead and shot up. The
72nd Sqd did not get to the target (because
of the bad weather) and several
of
their ships were covering Rauh when his ship suddenly rolled over and
went in to the drink. All killed.) I kept
contact with all of the boys and kept
their positions in case they went down. Baker
did not bail out, but landed the
ship
on AFC (automatic flight control). Only three ships were able to make it
back
to Torakina. We landed after12 ¼ hours in the air and found only one
7. 7 in our wing and the aerial shot off.
Tonight the Jap artillery did not keep
us
awake and we Slept 11 hours. I caught
much of the combat action on 16
Mm
color movie
film.
Landed back here at Munda the 3rd day after
leaving. MacKinley (Sqdn'CO),
greeted us
with tears in his eyes. The night before a report came in that we had
landed at Green Island, shot up with everyone wounded. Monday night I believe
everyone was
on a binge. Baker's engineer gave me the camera at 6:00 and
at 9:00 he
dropped dead from 'shock. My ball gunner is in the hospital with
shock, his guns were jammed during the whole fight.
Bucky had been sweating me
out. Saw him receive the Silver Star for their
raid before ours.
Received
D.F.C. cluster (second Distinguished Flying Cross) this morning
and had Mac
& my orders sent in to go home.
This
morning Davis, McConnell, Thompson and I flew down to the Russell
Islands to eat dinner. It is really a nice
Island and offered quite a few good
movie
shots (for my 6 mm movie camera). We got back about 3:00, had a
fair
supper and stayed in the sack all evening reading and writing.
(This
selection was submitted by Oscar Fitzhenry, a pilot with the 394th
Bomb
Squadron of the 5th Bomb Group)