Profile 46 - "Satan's Chill'en" as flown by W. Mannix and "Dick" Rostrom

Satan's Chill'en is alive.  I have much to write about this airplane, but the bulk will wait.

Two weeks ago, Dick Rostrom was leaning over a draft of his old aerial office, trying - at least to me - to hold back a wry smile and perhaps the satisfied laugh that comes from seeing something good.

My artwork "good"?  No.  It was the memory.  Next to the airplane was a printout of an unpublished photo of the crew - Dick's finger tapping on the jackets of each man, recalling his name and the role he'd played aboard the bomber.  "...and there's Thompson. Radio Operator.  He saved my life.  And there's..."

Until he got to the man in charge - Satan's Chill'en's pilot, William C. Mannix.  There, Dick's finger hovered for a moment, then tapped. And tapped. A few seconds passed, the bombardier's eyes fixed on the photo, momentarily lost to the present... "and that's Mannix.  He was our pilot.  And he..."  Tap tap tap tap.  "And he was a good one. A good leader.  A good..."

You know, I started this blog post fully intending on writing about the half-naked girl on the nose but Dick's distinct memory of Mannix took precedent.

And therein lies the incredible experience that the study of History provides those who care.  Watching Dick go back in time over a forgotten photo, remembering the positive influences in his life, sharing them with me, is gawd-damned priceless.

I fear our culture's reliance on entertainment has perforated our value of History, punching out the human substance, leaving a skeleton of dates and places.  Thanks to Dick and so many others, I can never look at a WW2 warbird without thinking of the pilots, the crew, what happened 'after the war'...

And there I go off on a tangent!  Let's focus on the pinup! (laughs)

When I started this bird, I had poor photographic reference of the topless devil-woman - a small black and white photo with no color, no definition, no detail.  Darn. ;)

Well, the response to my call for help in figuring out what "she" really looked like was fantastic.  Little bits from around the world trickled, adding suggestive peeks until a relative of one of the gunners emailed, "My wife still has her dad's bomber jacket with the girl on the back."


SCORE!


The only thing worse than my artwork of airplanes is my artwork of PEOPLE.  Especially nude women. Remember, I started sketching airplanes as a pre-schooler.  Having teachers crab about my doodling of warbirds on homework was bad enough.  Practicing pinups as a 3rd grader would have undoubtedly charted a different history for me!


Anyway.


With the jacket photo and the new crew photo, I was able to piece together a plausible rendering of Satan's girlfriend enough to finish the piece.  For those of you who are interested in purchasing a signed print, realize this - most of her is hiding behind the engine cowling.  I know, I know...


To Dick, the prurient parts are all but forgotten.  But the memories of those he served alongside remain clear.  "Let me tell you another story about Mannix.  What kind of a guy he was.  See, we were..."


Tap tap tap.

Thank you to R.C. for taking the time to photograph the jacket.

Oh.  One more thing.  Mannix is the short guy, middle of the back row, under the engine.  Dick is on the left, squatting down, first row.

Profile 44 - "28" as flown by Harold Thune

And there it is.  "28" - a workaday F6F-5 as flown by Lt. Harold Thune of the USS Intrepid, circa Fall, 1944.

Yesterday morning, Harold signed prints of my hack, passing them down the table to his son, a US Senator, where he too penciled his name.  

But the star of this moment was not Senator John Thune.  Nor was it me.  Nor was it Harold.  It was the camera man from the local TV station who had shown up to document the event.  For whatever it's worth, I dedicate this print of Harold's Hellcat to...him.

If you were there, you would have seen what you'd have expected from the office of a US Senator - polished people of profession and poise - laughing at the right places, shaking hands with appropriate grip and confidence.  It was all authentic, but still tinged with the superficialities that come from position and power.

Then the TV guy showed up.  One man, carrying two heavy tripods, a camera and a day full of other stops to make.  He set up, turned on the camera and documented every moment of my self-importance and Harold's self-effacing recollection of his part in history.

Though it was a short interview, Harold articulated the values of his time & tide with the wisdom that can only come from 91 years.  He signed his prints, "thanks" were sprayed liberally around the room...

...and the camera guy said "Thank you.  For winning."

Sweet jimminy, his words stopped me cold.

Thank. You. For. Winning.

If I'd been a little less star-struck by having a US Senator and his WW2 Fighter Pilot father signing my paltry art, I would have turned the camera on him.

See...about twenty minutes before, Harold began describing an aerial victory.  His hands pantomiming the dogfight - the Japanese fighter speeding under Harold's stall-climb and the split-second push of the control stick that dropped the Hellcat's nose, bringing 6 .50 cal machine guns to bear with predictable result.  Machine aflame, the enemy pilot climbed out onto the wing and prepared to leap clear of certain doom.

Harold had a choice to make and you know what that choice was.

If anything comes from my time with these old guys it will be this - that the study of human History is a mystery. I have a more satisfying time wondering what color dinosaurs were than reconciling human behavior.

Harold said the oft-quoted line, "War is hell."  But he said it with the choke and gulp of someone who's earned the right to say it.  Hollywood can script it, but Harold knows.  As a History teacher himself, Harold knows full well the in-congruencies of things like American Freedom and the expansion that ruined Native America.  Of Western empire building versus Japanese empire building.  Of two guys who happened to be fighter pilots, one flying a plane with a white star on its wing, the other a red circle.

Kill him?  Kill the - as the line goes - "yellow bastard"?*

Nope.  Harold did not fire.  The Japanese pilot tumbled away, snatched from momentary death by the snap of a parachute while his defeated machine arced to its doom, trailing smoke and fire.

Every day, I become more of a Patriot. I'm in awe of the American Constitution, Bill of Rights and Declaration of Independence.  And every day, I become more convinced that the soul is far sharper than the sword.

I too am thankful that Harold "won."


Are you?


*Harold never used the term.   In fact, I've never heard an American WW2 pilot call the Japanese "yellow bastards." I think the line was used more in propaganda films than anywhere else, save for hand-to-hand combat and anyone who survives that can say anything he/she wants.


If you find this stuff half as fun as I do, we're all having a ball.

Profile 47 - "1" as flown by Lt. Ted Hutchins

Done!  Sort of.  I'm not happy with the wing and I might redo it.  But for now, I'm content to put "1" up for  readers to see/read about this machine and the man that flew her.

In case you're new to all-things-OS2U, the Chance Vought "Kingfisher" was a seaplane charged with the job of "Observation" hence the "O."  The particular airplane above, BuNo (Serial Number) 01487 flew from the battleship USS South Dakota.  Launched from a gun-powder charged catapult, this little machine buzzed above, serving as the Fleet's aerial eye, helping target the 'big guns' and spotting enemy submarines.

But, what I think is especially cool about this airplane is its additional role in recovering lost pilots.

I can vividly imagine the sensation of being adrift in the ocean, rising and falling with the swells of gray, working at keeping alive in an utterly unhuman environment.   Having been scared senseless by the movie Jaws, the Unknown swimming beneath my paddling feet adds to a feeling of helplessness.  Ok, terror.

Until...the blat of an airplane engine, bouncing across the water's surface provides the heart-leaping word that becomes everything in moments of hopelessness - Rescue.

I then think about Ted, alighting on the waves in a spray of salt water, motoring to the dirty yellow speck of life raft, or inflatable vest and cutting the engine, letting inertia, wind and wave push him to the once-lost man.  Rescue!

On one such mission, Ted had to step out onto the airplane's wing and haul up a pilot who had barely energy to stay afloat, let alone climb up into the rear cockpit.

Can you imagine how rewarding such work must have been?!  To be the heart, hands and face of one who saves another?!

An emergency room doc told me, "(my work) doesn't get any more 'real.'  It's the human experience in its most urgent."  I bet Ted felt the same way.  In fact, in a few days, I'll be interviewing Ted formally - and I'll ask him just that.   Of course, I'll let you know what he says on my website.

But in the meantime, I hope this airplane...and the photos below inspire you to think about those people who play the role of Rescuer in modern life.

Special thank you to Tom Fallon and Rick Lingberg for providing me the opportunity to document this airplane and her very cool pilot.

Also, do yourself a favor and visit the website of the USS South Dakota.  Rick Lingberg and his team have worked hard to create a satisfying digital monument to the most decorated capital ship in American history.


NOTE:  Airplane geeks will notice the gray rudder and think, "Hey!  That's not a standard paint job!"  Well, the USS South Dakota went through two Pacific storms in December of 1944, damaging the exposed airplanes.  The Kingfishers were repaired at the depot on the island of Ulithi using standard, primer-painted spare parts.  This illustration shows Ted's airplane in between repair and the point in time where the ship's maintenance crew found time to bring the airplane up to standard.

Progress - Profile 46 (Satan's Chille'n) and Profile 47 (#1 - OS2U Kingfisher)

Two airplanes at once is proving to be difficult and I don't quite like it.    I enjoy the feeling of focusing on one airplane - after finishing Rostrom's B-17 and Ted's Kingfisher, it's back to one-at-a-time.

However, a loyal reader has asked to see more of my sketchwork, so I'm attaching two pages from my journal - one from April 3 while I was at church, the other done yesterday while at one of those "all day" business training/management events.

So, here you go, Reader from Phoenix, Arizona - a "ballpoint pen" of Satan's Chille'n releasing her payload over a Nazi-held target and a pencil study of an OS2U-3 Kingfisher and some random notes that have nothing to do with the seminar.

And to another reader who is interested in Rostrom's B-17, it's below - the wing has yet to be masked in, the turrets are barely started and I haven't begun the Plexiglas at all.  I give it 60% finished.

"1" - Hutchin's Kingfisher - is still in sketch-phase.

But, I do have something to share about Ted Hutchins, Kingfisher pilot.  The photo below is of Ted (right) and an unknown (to date) pilot that Ted snatched* from the Pacific.

Imagine what it must have been floating in the expanse of the ocean, in a waterlogged flight suit, suspended above the unknown depths by the thin rubber of a life raft. Marine ace and Medal of Honor recipient Joe Foss described the sensation to me as feeling, "very small."

Judging from the smiles on the two pilot's faces, I have to think that Ted Hutchins had extremely rewarding work in WW2, don't you think?

Photo: U.S. Navy Archives, Ted Hutchins

*In case you're unfamiliar, the OS2U Kingfisher that Ted flew was a "float plane" able to be catapulted from ships and also able to land/take-off from the water.  Though designed to perform Observation work for the fleet, the Kingfisher was also used as a Rescue aircraft, picking up aircrew and seamen adrift in the ocean.

Profile 47 - Chance Vought Kingfisher

First, would I do this for a living?  I mean - real living?

Damn right.  Gawd, I love this part of American history and...you should too.

This morning, I started out having breakfast with a medic assigned to McArthur's "return" to the Philippines circa 1944.  Then, a new acquaintance let me know that a pilot assigned to the USS South Dakota (battleship) was not only alive but had sold his Harley last year.  Would he like to have his plane memorialized for all digital-eternity?

Hell yeah.

So, I guess Satan's Chille'n and Lt. Ted Hutchins' Chance Vought OS2U Kingfisher are now BOTH on the drawing board.

Put the coffee pot on "full throttle."  I'm not sleeping for a while.

Anyway, in the words of my buddy Lt. John Forrette who served in the Philippines circa 1944-45, "History doesn't sleep."

Watch this space - it's going to be awesome.

PHOTO:  National Archives


PS - no kidding, as this is being typed, my kid is scratching the American anthem on his violin.  It sounds awful but...is wonderful at the same time.


PSS - here's my first sketch!  

Profile 46 - More of Satan's Chille'n (update)

My call for help in capturing the half-naked pinup girl painted on Satan's Chille'n was as expected - so, thank you to those who helped with the "research."  (ha ha).  But suffice it to state, until we have a Time Machine, I'm confident enough that this B-17's nose art is going to be accurate.   Shown is my progress as of 10:32pm this evening.

I'm now giving the countdown for about 2 weeks.   One more progress post after this and I hope to have it finished!  

Did you watch the video of Dick - Satan's Chille'n's bombardier - describe a particularly interesting bomb-run?  If not, scroll down.

However, I thought you might like to see what Dick looked like back in 1944 when he was undoubtedly one of the best bombardiers in the 8th Air Force.  At least good enough to fly as lead bombardier in 15 of his 30 combat missions.

This is a good time for a bit of explanation.  Just because a young man sat in the nose and had his finger on "the button," it didn't mean he was a "Bombardier."  The term describes a Role more than a Function.

Bombardiers were men who had the gift of control over their Norden branded bomb sites, the ability to fly the bomber during the last twenty or so miles to the target and of course, put the pickle in the pickle barrel.  From 20,000+ feet.

These Bombardiers were the men who aimed for the Squadron.  The rest of the men in the noses of their respective B-17s watched the Lead Plane and waited until they saw the stack of death fall away, then punch their own buttons. These 'rest of the men' were called "Toggliers."

The reason?  For one, there weren't enough Norden bomb sites to equip EVERY bomber in combat. Plus, these bomb sites were considered a Top Secret weapon.  Bombardiers were commanded to shoot the eyepiece out of their Norden in the event they were to crash land - or even bail out - in case the device would end up in the hands of the enemy.

But also, the Army Air Force had spent a terrific amount of time analyzing bomb blast patterns and concluded that the best results were obtained with one man leading, the others following.  In short, the Bombardier was the guy, the master that signaled the Squadron to drop their terrifying load onto the target.  

I asked Dick why he thought he was such a good Bombardier and he replied, "I gave that task my all!  I wanted to!"  

One thing I've learned from talking with old guys, is this - a vital ingredient to success is Passion.  Today, Dick still gets animated describing how he would mentally prepare to lead the Squadron on the run, even when not flying.  To Dick, success isn't so much about Luck or Skill as it is Desire.

Anyway, back to that picture of Dick circa'44 - he's the second from the left.  When I see him, I see the same nervous energy, the same restless motion that I know today. He still walks faster than a few teenagers I know and last week, he let me know that his car will top 100mph, "easy!"

More to come...

Profile 46 - Satan's Chillen update

Regarding the picture above - on the left is my wretched pencil-work of the nose art of Satan's Chille'n.  The boxing "bomber-dude" didn't appear on the airplane - it's actually the 613th Bomb Squadron mascot - I just scribbled it for something to do.

On the right, however,  is a 401st BG photo of what the art really-might-have looked like.  No photo of the specific B-17 is known to exist; only this nearly-70 year old photo of someone's flight-jacket, which may or may not have been anything like what it actually looked on the bomber*.

The struggle for capturing the correct nose art for "Satan's Chillen" continues - I'm lost in the 21st Century haze of fading memories, lack of documentation and imagination.  This sucks because I understand that each post establishes itself into the digital record.

So, to the folks of 2050, I'm doing the best I can.  Sometimes I have to punt.  So, I'm moving forward on "Satan's Chillen'" knowing that no photograph of the actual bird is known to exist and likely will never come to light.

In the meantime, Satan's Chillen's bombardier has a story to tell.  In this time of bombing Libya, bear in mind that back in WW2, there were no "Cruise Missiles" or single-pilot jets guided by a team of digital genius.  Nope.  WW2 was low-tech, guys in windows, looking over the precipice of a bombsight with a finger on a mechanical switch.

I hope you listen to the bombardier tell (in the words of my kid), "A funny story." - click below:

*Dick said the jacket art was "very close" to what actually appeared on his B-17G.  But without a photograph, we just. Can't. Tell. For. Sure.

Profile 46 - "Satan's Chillen"

I couldn't bear the previous paltry sketch, so I fleshed out the study a bit tonight. These little pencil sketches are important to me because they help train my mind for the airplane's proportions.

Bombers have never been my 'thing.'  Temperament-wise, I can't imagine the idea of riding along in what is essentially a military bus, stuck to my office. Sitting or standing for a 3, 4, 5, 6 hour mission is hard to fathom, don't you think?

There's an interesting analog between a WW2 bomber and many people's work environment - their cubicle, their office, is their position.  Pilot, bombardier, gunner, navigator...CEO, Director, Sales, Marketing...  More than once, I've thought about this while driving the family in the mini-van; the grocery store is the target, the kids are the gunners (usually shooting each other) and my wife, the navigator and bombardier.

"We forgot the milk!  Back to Target!" (ha ha)

Amused?  I am.  Until I remember just how thin the aluminum skin on a B-17 was.  And I remember the recollections of those who remember seeing the telltale flickers of the wing and nose guns mounted on the German fighters.  And how holes would suddenly appear in the airplane as flak and cannon fire sliced out chunks the bomber's flesh.  Or crew's.

Maybe that's how some people feel about their offices these days - wondering if a layoff or firing is going to happen.

Maybe I'm being too philosophical.  But, as Satan's Chillen comes to life here, expect more as I share the story of her particularly successful bombardier as he describes his, well -  job - in a way you've never heard before.

That's him - far left, kneeling, first row.

Crew photo courtesy 401st Bombardment Group Association

Profile 46 - "Satan's Chillen"

The study sketch above is of a B-17G that flew with the 401st Bomb Group based at Deenethorpe, Northhamptonshire, England.  Specifically, the bomber belonged to the 613th Squadron.  But, if you're really, really into the details, her serial number was 43-37706 and was accepted into the U.S. Army Air Force inventory on May 13, 1944.

Today, all that's left of this bomber resides in the minds of her two surviving air crew, pilot Lt. William Mannix and bombardier, "Dick" Rostrom.

The closest I've gotten to the bomber's pilot was a scratchy phone call to Mannix's wife - her husband was not feeling well and she didn't want to wake him.  Life got haywire for me and...I've lost his phone number.  Damnit.  I have no idea if he's even alive right now.

But, I know Dick pretty well.  He and I have talked alot, traveled a bit... if you'd like to know more, stay tuned.  "Satan's Chillen" is about to crank -

CLEAR!