Profiles 18-22: Hellcats and Wildcats

Profile 22 - 22 flown by Jack Hankins

Seems like everyone has one of those Weird Stories that make a person wonder if there are unseen forces at work.  My Weird Story involves the research behind this particular aircraft.

The artwork was commissioned by a businessman who knew the pilot and wanted to honor him by dedicating a large work of Jack's Hellcat at the man's hometown airport in Martinsville, Virginia (the original print is hanging there, btw).

The print was to be a surprise but there were no known photographs or references of any of the specific aircraft Jack flew in combat.  The man paying my tab wanted either hard documentation and/or Jack Hankin's personal blessing that "...that Hellcat was the one he flew."

Since I interview pilots often enough, I was able to quiz Jack on vitals (markings, numbers, coloration) without arousing too much suspicion.  However, Jack admitted he didn't have any photographs of any of the Hellcats he flew in combat.  Like so many pilots I've interviewed, he said something similar to "If I would have known then that 60 years later, someone was going to need references on the oil stains on my windscreen..."

He then embarked on one of those rambing memory joggers  - "Hmmmm. I might have a photo...no, no...hmmm....maybe I could call up so'n so...no, he wouldn't have..." 

After a bit, Jack sighed and drawled, "Well, the only photo I know of me in a Hellcat is from the August 1944 issue of National Geographic."

Now it gets weird.  The next day, I bump into a guy at the gym - a guy I know only casually - and I get this peculiar urge to ask him if he had any old National Geographics.  Up until this point, there was nothing in our casual "Hey!"  "How's it goin'?" relationship to warrant any hope that he'd be any help at all.  I'm not even a mystic - skepticism runs strong in my veins - but I followed my impulse.

"Hey.  Jean.  You know where I can get any old National Geographics? From the World War Two?"

He looked at me a little crosseyed, stopped and replied, "Well, my mother has a couple.  Not many.  Maybe. What one?" 

The next week, he shows up with an August 1944 edition.  (insert spooky sound effects).  Jean was as wide-eyed as I was after I explained the significance - he said his mom had a mere handful of NG's!  Peeling open the pristine, but brittle pages, sure enough, on Color Plate "V", there was Jack on the Yorktown, idling in "22" awaiting the cue to take off!

I called Jack that day and he had a howl.  We discussed markings, paint schemes and settled on the art above - the greenish nose, the larger fuselage insignia and the block "22."  Of course, he thought I was documenting his plane for some article...and was blown away to see his plane at the surprise presentation held at the Martinsville airport later that Summer.  

He had a lot to remember from his days on the Yorktown...

“It was just a scratch! About an inch long - it bled, but there wasn’t even enough for a single stitch!” Jack recalled, laughing. “Just a scratch. Looking at my airplane, I just couldn’t believe that I’d take a hit like that and get just a little cut. The engineers made a quick decision, grabbed the color film from the cameras and just pushed my Hellcat overboard. It wasn’t worth the time and effort to repair. I just got a scratch.”

He couldn't remember if "22" or some other Hellcat was the one pushed over, but the story of improbable events that lead through circumstance and crook to the Martinsville airport remains fascinating.  I like to think that somewhere in the Pacific, "22" is sitting in the deep, blissfully unaware of the happenstance that pushed it to print.

Profile 21 - 9 flown by Hamilton McWhorter

The Grumman Hellcat wasn't the fastest American fighter. Nor did the pilot enjoy great visibility. Even the machine's aesthetic qualities leave room for improvement.

However, with (what is reported to be) the highest serviceability rate of any American fighter, the second highest number of victories, a whopping 19:1 victory ratio over the enemy, and the legendary durability of its air-cooled engine,  the Hellcat may have been the best investment of allocated fighter resources in WW2. 

Hamilton McWhorter would agree, too. He was the first Hellcat pilot to make the coveted "ace" status of five victories and eventually achieved eleven victories in the airplane. However, enemy aircraft weren't the fighter's only target.

Hellcats were also used for additional fire support during attacks on Japanese island ports and bases.  Mac recalled such a mission - I believe late 1944 - where he took part in such an attack...

"As I approached the line of warships from about a mile or so out, at about 100 feet off the water, they all opened up with every AAA gun, including the main 8” batteries.  There were many, many muzzle flashes and smoke from stem to stern on each ship as they fired at me.  I can attest to the fact that you can see an 8” shell coming toward you - they spin slowly, leaving a thin trail of smoke and you have time to move out of the way, hoping they don’t explode as they pass nearby.”

Traveling at over 400 miles an hour, rushing into a hose of supersonic metal darts, danger’s threat is silenced by the hours of training and self discipline.  Hamilton squeezed the trigger, unleashing a spray of bullets from his Hellcat’s six .50 caliber machine guns.  Firing at a combined rate of 3,600 rounds per minute, the volley of bullets cut into the cruiser.

“I can still remember that in spite of the intense AAA fire I was flying through, I was amazed at the huge number of bright flashes as the API’s (every fifth round was an API armor-piercing bullet) hit on and around the open AAA batteries.  As I passed over the cruiser, about mast high, I looked down and saw the Japanese gunners looking at me!”

As a footnote, Mac passed away earlier this year.  In the words of his wife, "...he was a man who had only good to say about everyone."  

Profile 20 - BLACK DEATH flown by Bruce Porter

"Black Death" is one of my favorite illustrations because I got the lighting and metal texture right. It's also a favorite because of the nose art - a bottle of Schenley's whisky.

Bruce proofed the art and pronounced it good when compared to photographs of his plane. Thankfully, the actual nose art was rather crude (and thereby easy to duplicate). There aren't many bottles of Schenley's around to use as a reference!

The story behind the nose art was told with a chuckle - when first presented with the airplane above, a red heart and the name, "Millie Lou" was painted on the cowl. Bruce was looking to make a "tough guy" impression on his new ground crew and ordered that the love-sick scrawl be immediately painted over with something "...that sounded a lot meaner."  On the spot, he ordered "Black Death" and "a bottle of Schenley's!"  

Of all the fighter pilots I've interviewed, Bruce is the only one who comes close to the brawling, hard-drinking image and even then, he seemed to play it for laughs. Still, he was clearly thrilled that fortune had honored him with the title of "ace fighter pilot."

Me: So, what does any fighter pilot need to be successful?

Well...let’s see...first of all, above average intelligence, man!  And, I think another thing too is following directions...paying attention...and then utmost is to be alert and know where you are. When you fly head on in a dogfight, you’ve got a closure rate of...600 miles per hour and you’ve got to be thinking...whereever you go.

I’m still jumpy...my wife comes in the room and I still jump...I guess it’s combat. You never get it out of your system.

If you’ve got self-discipline...and survive, you go out and can do things in life. It’s like eating habits...you don’t see fat fighter pilots.

I would put all the fighter pilots in the top 5% of whatever in the world...maybe not in math (laughs)...but in grasping things.

Profile 19 - 18 flown by Milton Tootle

Unfortunately, I never got to meet Milton Tootle. This art was commissioned by a buddy who met Milton and decided to take it upon himself to honor the man by hosting a celebratory dinner. The closest I got to being there was knowing that this illustration was given to him as a present. Afterwards, I found out Milton was thrilled with the event and surprised his deeds were respected so many years after the fact - a common feeling among these aerial warriors.

There's something inherently humble about heroism. For the most part, "heroes" seem to have an accidental quality about their circumstances. Instead of recognizing or calculating their moment, they simply "do." Aside from their moments, heroes are surprisingly ordinary, with the exception that when the "moment" comes, they have an automatic reaction of selflessness. Instead of retreating, ignoring, blaming or hiding, they do whatever the moment demands.

To be fair, combat pilots were trained to be instinctive and this "rote behavior" is undoubtedly why so many of them were able to perform so well under pressure. Practice, practice, practice and when the moment comes...

A snippet of the Tootle's Navy Cross citation is below:

TOOTLE, MILTON, IV
Citation:

The President of the United States takes pleasure in presenting the Navy Cross to Milton Tootle, IV, Ensign, U.S. Navy (Reserve), for extraordinary heroism in operations against the enemy while serving as Pilot of a carrier-based Navy Fighter Plane in Fighting Squadron THREE (VF-3), embarked from the U.S.S. YORKTOWN (CV-5), during the "Air Battle of Midway," against enemy Japanese forces on 4 June 1942. While engaged in an assault against Japanese aerial forces about to attack his aircraft carrier, Ensign Tootle pursued a Torpedo Plane so relentlessly that he came under a fierce barrage of antiaircraft fire from his own ship. Although the resultant damage to his plane caused the cockpit to become filled with smoke, he nevertheless pressed home the attack until his gunfire struck down the Torpedo Plane and sent it exploding into the sea. Despite the terrific hazard of flying his battered and smoking craft, he continued to carry on with grim determination and magnificent fortitude until ordered to crash-land in the water. As a last resort he was required to bail out and a short time afterward was picked up by a friendly destroyer. The outstanding courage and determined skill displayed by Ensign Tootle were at all times inspiring and in keeping with the highest traditions of the United States Naval Service.

Bureau of Naval Personnel Information Bulletin No. 311 (February 1943)

PROFILE 18 - 53 flown by Joe Foss

Joe Foss is one of WW2 history's most documented figures and anything I would contribute about his military or post-military career would be just parroting someone else's stuff.

Nevertheless, some people are uncomfortable in their own skin and strive to conform it to their surroundings. Joe knew that behavior be a form of vanity, of conceit and avoided it like fetid water. If the reader has ever wanted to look into the mechanics of a someone who achieved the Zen of Leadership, look no further; you may differ with Joe's views, but his integrity is an example to everyone.

He was a man without Guile, without Pretense...and one of the nicest people you could hope to meet.

Profiles 14-17: The Dragonflies

Profile 17 - DOTTY flown by William "Bill" Creech

"Dotty" just about didn't happen. On June 17, 1944, Lt. William "Bill" Creech was flying an A-36 "Apache" on a ground-support mission in Burma.  These missions were performed at very low level - often times, at shoe-top height.  However, on that particular day, Bill's airplane took a hit in the cooling system from bomb shrapnel. In short, he survived a nasty belly landing in the Burmese jungle and managed to hack his way back to base - an amazing story in and of itself but it will have to be saved for another time...

Nevertheless, Bill went on to fly a considerable number of missions* in China until on March 15, 1945, Bill and his P-51B (Dotty as shown above) were hit again and he was forced to bail out 150 or so miles North of Sian.

The following is from an advance, unedited draft of Bill's book, "Third Greatest Fighter Pilot" (google it.)

The coolant temp wasn’t even rising and this confused me a bit but not for long. Suddenly she started running rough and the oil temp rose to the red line. She started vibrating quite a bit and losing power. She started down slowly and as I was intent upon keeping good control throughout, kept the airspeed above 120 mph. I made up my mind that five thousand was my limit. I was planning to stay with her to that point, then over the side. As I approached five thousand, I pulled the canopy release and it was gone in a flash. I had her all perfectly trimmed so I stood up in the seat, with one hand on the windshield and the other on the rear canopy, and dived as hard as I could toward the right wing tip, just as we were trained to do. As I went over the side my flying suit was splattered with molten aluminum from the burning engine. In retrospect that old Merlin was trying to save my ass and was still actually running and producing power! Don’t tell me that airplanes don’t have souls!...I tumbled a time or two, pulled the ripcord, and was delighted to see the chute blossom above me. I landed rather hard on my butt and realized that the desert floor was frozen.

In case you're wondering how Bill's family found out their boy was having a hard day in China, the graphic below is a scan of the Western Union telegram delivered to his mom.



If I ever publish my book, Bill Creech and a few other 528th pilots will undoubtedly take up a chapter or two!  

Happy 4th!

Liberal, Conservative, Independent...if we're not impressed by the selfless leadership of the people who wrote the American Constitution, it's because we haven't read it.

Profile 16 - "1031" flown by Hank Snow

From Hank Snow's personal log:

"May 5, 1945: Mission #88; this mission was scheduled as four flights of four aircraft each to destroy a radar station located on the Yellow River just 90 miles from Sian. Ironically, it was a station which I had seen several weeks earlier. Lt. Col. Donald “Flash” Gordon, our commander briefed that I was to lead the third flight and was to bomb and then strafe the site until he called me to break off because he would be in low level for a napalm drop. My flight consisted of Horace Cumberland and William Knavel. I do not recall the name of the fourth pilot who had aborted on take-off due to a rough engine.

"We bombed on schedule and started strafing. We were on our sixth pass which is next to suicidal, because Lt. Col. Gordon had not called a break. I got hit hard, knocking out my radio and starting a fire somewhere underneath me. I crossed the river into friendly Chinese territory and climbed to about 3,500 feet before I bailed out. When I jettisoned the canopy, I got a face full of hot coolant which added to the severity of the situation. What saved me was discipline in having thought out what I would do ahead of time so everything went as previously planned. I slowed the aircraft to just about the stall speed, got my left leg up on the seat, let go of the stick, grabbed the edge of the windshield and cockpit and launched myself face first toward the wing. I kept my head down so that if any part of my hit the tail, it would be my legs. I fell clear with not contact, did a flip or two, was impressed with how quiet it was once I left the aircraft. I grabbed my “D” ring, pulled it and threw it halfway across China. My chute opened but one of the risers hit me on the right temple, an injury which I did not discover until several hours later. That is what adrenaline will do for you.

"The aircraft had nosed over, crashed and was burning furiously below me, so I started pulling the risers in an attempt to avoid the fire. As a result I got to swinging back and forth so that when I contacted the ground, but I did so on my rear end, hard enough to jar my eye teeth, but luckily, it was freshly plowed ground which prevented injury. As I stood, I was looking down the muzzles of 8 rifles held by Chinese soldiers. I raised my arms and said, “Americano! Ding Hoa!” and turned so that they could see the flag on the back of my jacket. They lowered their guns and gathered up my chute as we started walking toward the aircraft which was still burning. As we drew near, I saw a Jeep and recognized Lt. Lang, an American laison officer with the Chinese forces, whom I had met at Sian. Lang said, “Snowball, nice of you to come visit us!” I had a few choice words in reply..."

Most combat pilots have 50-80 combat missions. Bomber crew might have a few less, reccon pilots might have a few more. Hank Snow has 666 spread over W.W.II, Korea and the Vietnam conflict and that also includes a combat parachute jump into North Vietnam! One might expect a man who’s literally beat death’s gamble beyond all odds to be a braggart or boorish. Not so with Colonel Snow. He's a real life version of the cartoon, "Mr. Incredible" - affable, paternal and when he can get away with it, silly. But when it comes to the raw dynamics of leadership, he is a master of the most effective method - Example.

Profile 15 - JOHNNY REB - flown by John O. "Doc" Perritt

John Olin "Doc" Perritt's Mustang, comically titled “Johnny Reb” received hits numerous times. “I was very scared...very scared. I’d be thinking about [bailing] out, which I didn’t want to do. They’d skin you alive if they caught you.”

Fortunately for Doc, none of the hits he received were severe enough to cause him to bail out or crash. He always returned from his missions, a fact he states with a humble pride. Doc recalls considering a decision to stay with his flight or return home.

“My tachometer went out. It measured engine speed. It was a necessary instrument and one that we needed to fly the mission. I was flying as wingman on my Flight Leader and I needed to stay there. (In the end) it was a magician’s trick that I learned that kept me there. The eye processes things in cycles and if you take a strobe light and shine it on a fan, you can make that fan look like it wasn’t moving. I was able to make sure my engine was running at the same rpm as my Flight Leader by tucking up under his tail and looking through my prop arc, match it against my Flight Leaders...and adjust the speed so my prop looked like it was standing still. Then I knew I was running the same rpm as my Flight Leader.”

“When one of us had to turn back, we always sent two. You never sent a guy back alone.” One reason to abort a mission meant two less planes on the attack run, four less bombs on target, thousands of fewer bullets fired and possibly one more munitions train would get through, arming one more garrison for one more day...one more day of soldiers on both sides being killed. The ripple effect of one abort could spoil the whole mission, requiring a second, more costly attempt.

Doc, and so many of the successful airmen, had a belief that above all, the worst thing a guy could do in combat was to let the other guy down.

Profile 14 - PUNCHY'S PAL - flown by Earl Ashworth

Note:  Earl Ashworth died February 4, 2009.  He leaves a void that can't be filled.  

Earl Ashworth grew up a poor kid, even by Great Depression standards.  From the moment he recognized his status, Earl longed for nothing more than to leave it far behind.  The imaginative little boy could not have comprehended that one day, he'd end up as far away from Wilco, West Virgina as a human being could get - China.

Arriving with the 528th Fighter Squadron in 1944, Earl was also trained to fly Tactical Reconnaissance - photographic missions designed to evaluate potential and past targets.  Though his combat record would earn him honor, (DFC) he remains one of the few combat pilots to have spent any time at all with the enemy.

"Two days after the war was over, I was assigned to fly a Recon flight over a route that would take me over a pretty large city named Suchow.  It was only a two-man flight and I had a wingman who had only a few weeks in the squadron.  I don't believe that he had ever flown a mission before.

"Anyway, as I neared Suchow, my engine begun to run rough and it was the first time (I had ever) had an engine problem!  I knew there was a Japanese airfield there, so I was attempting to make that rather than face the possibility of bailing out.  As it turned out, the engine lasted until I was over the base.  Since the war was over only 2 days, I wasn't sure the Japanese had received word they had surrendered.  Still, I chose to land.  I instructed my wingman to circle the base until I cleared him to return...after landing, the engine was running well enough for me to taxi to a hangar.

"There were a few hundred Japanese that came out of the hangar!  I flipped my machine guns on, got my .45 cocked...my wingman was circling, ready to strafe the ramp around me in the event (they) were hostile.

"A Chinese officer approached, climbed on my wing, and I was ready with the .45 until (I trusted) his identification. He spoke English and told me the Japanese knew the war was over and it was safe fro me to come out.  I did, and soon a Japanese Colonel approached and inquired if he could see my plane up close! He seemed like a nice guy...and I did let him in the cockpit.  He stayed there for almost half an hour.  (When he got out) he saluted me smartly and walked off mumbling. 

"I spent the night in a Catholic College run by an American Bishop.  We talked until the wee hours and he told me the Communist would take over China in a matter of a few years.  That was in 1945 and the Communists fulfilled his prediction in 1949.  That Bishop was ultimately captured and spent, I believe, over 20 years in prison in Shanghai.  But that night, I had been the first American military man he had talked with and the first American outside of the college he'd seen in over 4 years."

Earl went on to fly combat in the Korean War, test aircraft for North American Aviation and retire from the U.S. Air Force in 1967 - achieving levels of leadership, opportunity and success far, far beyond Wilcoe, WV.

Note:  The name "Punchy's Pal" scrawled across the nose of Earl's P-51 is in respect to his boyhood buddy, "Punchy Powell".  See Profile 12 in this series.

Profiles 1-12: The Bluenosed Bastards of Bodney

Profile 12 - THE WEST by gawd VIRGINIAN - flown by Robert "Punchy" Powell

There are a number of websites, books and magazines containing pictures of the illustrated P51B Mustang, "The West 'by Gawd' Virginian with its middle section burned out lying in the middle of an English field. One would think that having an ammo and fuel-laden airplane burst into flames shortly after takeoff and having to belly-land it would be enough of a thrill.

However, pilot Bob 'Punchy' Powell tells of a mission that he maintains gave him a more meaningful thrill. On May 4, 1944, the 328th Squadron of the 352nd Fighter Group, led by Col. John C. Meyer, Jr., took off on a "Ramrod" (bomber escort) mission. Four flights of four, 16 Mustangs in all, climbed into a low-hanging overcast expecting to breakout at about 8,000 feet.

Typically, the squadron leader flew on his instruments and the other 15 pilots, flying only 15 to 20 feet apart, focused intently on the silhouetted aircraft next to them to maintain their position with virtually zero visibility.

But the human element is a slippery factor. Just imagine 16 aircraft loaded with fuel and ammunition, flying in dense, dark clouds just a few feet apart and the intense concentration required of these pilots just to maintain their position in the formation. Someone must surely crack . . . lose their cool. Or, loosen up a fraction, and slide a few deadly feet left or right...or maybe forget to switch fuel tanks, and the sputtering engine slows the plane just enough to collide with an airplane behind...

The reported 8,000 foot ceiling never opened. Instead, the thick clouds (called soup) continued up and past the assigned 27,000 feet altitude of the formation. There, they got a call that the bombers had been ordered to abort the mission. No Ramrod today. Time elapsed? About 90 minutes.

Anyone who's ever driven in a white-out blizzard at 5 mpg can testify that after 15 minutes, nerves get frayed. To imagine nearly two hours of the stuff, in wing-to-wing traffic at 250 mph is staggering!

Nevertheless, the 328th wasn't going to stay in the air forever, and landing at one of the plentiful Luftwaffe airfields wasn't an option. So, J. C. Meyer called to the three squadrons to make precise, incremental turns, still on instruments, to return to base, still depending on their skills and fortitude to get home safely. Regardless of one's affections, faith becomes quite tangible considering the variables offered them.

Each of the three squadrons began their 180 degree turns and opting to let down to try to get under the dense clouds. (Punchy recalls cold sweat on his face and body from the lengthy stress of flying tight formation for such a long period). Finally, they punched through the base of the overcast still over enemy territory. Without a word of command, these pilots quickly moved to combat formation as if on signal. Punchy remembers his feeling of pride in this exhibition of precise teamwork on this memorable mission, one of the 87 he flew.

Profile 11 - DREAMGIRL flown by James Brocklehurst

This past year, a man who lived next door to the wartime pilot of DreamGirl, James Brocklehurst, had an aneurysm that laid him up in the hospital for some time.  James was kind enough to take care of the man's home as well as shuttle the man's family to and from the hospital.   The family had no idea of James' combat service - only that this neighbor was unusually compassionate and attentive without asking for anything in return.

However, as time passed, James and one of the family members got to be friends and James casually mentioned he flew Mustangs in WWII.  Blue-nosed Mustangs.  That particular fact stuck and came out in conversation that passed like a virus from mouth to ear...until it landed on me.

Knowing of the family's gratitude to James and of the 352nd's motto of "Second to None," a whole host of historians, veterans and amazing people conspired to present James and his family with prints of the airplane he flew in WWII - as a totem to his service, then and now.  

The picture in the lower right corner of the profile was taken last weekend.  It's James and the framed print of his DreamGirl, sixty four years later - an unexpected and tearful thank you for a man who never stopped serving.

Profile 10 - LITTLE ONE III flown by Donald S. Bryan

"In addition to getting the first shot, (being the Leader) made you responsible for the success or failure of the action.  Like, in strafing.  Everyone knows that if you stick around long enough, someone is going to get clobbered.  So, get in, get it done and get the hell out.  I never lost an aircraft in my flight or section.  Mostly luck? But I damned well tried to make (that luck) happen."

Don is one of those guys given the gift of gab and a sharp mind.  This whole blog could be filled with his anecdotes and observations on life.  But one of Don's best quotes came out of a discussion on the role fear plays in decision making (we were talking about business, not airplanes).  "No plan survives the first thirty seconds of combat."  He stated.  "The best you can do is just be damned good at what you do before you show up."

Can't argue with that.

"Little One III" is the succession of a number of airplanes, starting with a razorback P-47 and ending with the P-51 shown, named after his wife Francis.  She is indeed, "little" at barely 5' tall.  Don's no physical giant either, towering over her by a handful of inches.   But I guess what'd be a liability on a basketball court wasn't anything at all in the cockpit of a P-51.  

Don ended the war with over 13 confirmed aerial victories and one of the top aces of the 8th Air Force. 

Profile 9 - SOCKY flown by James White

James White, a pilot with the 352nd FG, got a chance to climb inside a P-51 Mustang again, some six decades later.  Only this time, he's riding in a decidedly post-war "2nd seat" modification. "No stick time for you, pal!"  

Before he got in the plane, I handed him my camera and asked that he take some pictures. When he landed, he could have spent the whole day talking about how much "fun" it was to be back in a P-51.  Strange that a weapon of war be regarded as "fun."

Studs Terkel wrote that WWII was a "Good War." When you think about it, the enemy was straight out of The Book of Evil, the weapons were gorgeous, the stakes were high and so many people loved their nation...

Hmmm.  I asked James if he'd 'do it again,' and this is what he stated: 

"If I were 18 (again) I do not think I would like years of technical study to become a fighter pilot.  Contemporary technical aspects of flight would turn me into a human robot who could respond only to technical demands.  I joined the AAF when I was 18 for the pleasure of flying in a free uninhibited manner, with a vigorous application of enthusiasm....in WWII, fighter pilots were the happiest of all warriors."

Profile 8 - KAY III flown by Sanford "Sandy" Moats

Sandy Moats is accomplished at many things - leadership (he's a retired Lt. General in the Air Force), being a fighter pilot (he's an Ace with nine victories) and a craftsman (he builds airplanes, too). He's also one of the most interesting story tellers I've ever been around. His passion for history, sociology and fact comes out in ways that make me wonder if Sandy would have been an even better High School teacher!

The then-Lieutenant flew an eventful mission a few days past the June 6 invasion at Normandy, France. His P-51 developed engine trouble and he was forced to land on a hastily converted airstrip on one of the French beachheads. One has to appreciate the huge number of Allied aircraft going back and forth over the English Channel at the time - aside from the obvious hazards of combat, these aircraft were worked thin and mechanical breakdowns were inevitable.

Being a continual student of life, and a pilot, not a foot soldier, Sandy was curious to get a little "sight seeing" in on the fresh battlefield. Standing near one of the now-relic concrete bunkers of Pointe du Hoc near Omaha Beach, he described a time 60 year's prior, examining a belt of ammunition hanging from a silenced German machine gun - not so unusual save for the fact the bullets were wooden.

For those who are experienced with shooting, the idea of wooden bullets working in the violent and volcanic breech of a machine gun may sound impossible. However, wooden bullets were indeed used. There are a lot of reasons - wooden bullets conserved strategic resources, they inflicted nasty wounds...nevertheless, I'll never forget the mental pictures his story inspired, the ground-bound fighter pilot, recalling his awestruck taste of what life was like for those who had to fight on the ground below...

Profile 7 - ELEEN & JERRY flown by Alden Rigby

Alden Rigby may well be the "last" ace of WWII.  In 2000, the American Fighter Aces Association confirmed an aerial victory at "Y-29" (see post on Dean Huston) raising his tally to 5 enemy aircraft destroyed in air-to-air combat.

To meet Alden in person is to shake hands with a man who looks you in the eye, listens to your words and responds with a confidence and humility that can't be overlooked.  Frankly, Alden's the real McCoy of a man.  As this is Father's Day, I'm toasting Alden as this is being written - "Eleen & Jerry" was named after his wife and baby daughter.

Not to be sappy, but dads will understand that raising kids is like Alden's late-confirmed victory - we never really know if we've "made ace" until many years later.  In Alden's case, he's still married to Eleen and the proud dad of a whole tribe of Rigbys.

“August 16 (1944) the was the first real combat mission for me. The mission was to a target just south of Berlin and a little more than I expected. Escorting the bombers was quiet until just before the bomb run. We then had reports of bandits hitting the bombers ahead of us.


We dropped our wing tanks and headed for the front box of bombers. I still had about an hour’s fuel left in mine and hated to release them. When we located the action, I was so busy trying to protect my leader’s tail that I couldn’t see much of what else was happening. I did see my first enemy aircraft, but even my flight leader did not get any shooting.


I recorded in my log book that both Me-109s and Fw-190s were encountered. My flight leader had a lot of combat time, but only 2 victories. Now, I would not want to accuse him of running away, but I thought we left the scene a little early. We were separated from our Squadron, so we joined three other P-51s escorting a box of 36 bombers. We circled above them until after the target and then had to leave because of fuel.


I write to [Eleen] about how grateful I am to be flying fighters, as I also describe the heavy flak in the area of the target. I had seen it in many films, but now it became a part of real life. I soon learned that the time to worry, or take evasive action was when the red flame is seen in the black explosion, when it is close enough to be heard over the roar of the engine...shakes the aircraft or all of the above. After this experience, I wondered if I had gotten too far away from the farm...”

Happy Father's Day, Alden!

Profile 6 - LITTLE SKUNK - flown by Charlie Price

"Squadron" and "Group" can be confusing. Simplistically, Sections fit into Squadrons.  Squadrons fit into Groups.  Groups fit into Air Forces and Air Forces fit into the giant AIR FORCE.  At least it works for The Air Force.  

Anyway, in WWII, the 352nd Fighter Group was a Group of three Squadrons that painted the noses of their P-51 Mustangs blue.  The three Squadrons, the 328th, 486th and 487th, painted their tails red, yellow and blue respectively.  Typically, fighter pilots in WWII identified themselves with a Group rather than a Squadron...and even then, the number was identified with a nickname.  In the case of the 352nd, the pilots and crew were proud to say, "I was a Bluenoser!"

Though Charlie Price arrived late enough in the war to not get a full tour of duty, he is no less passionate or proud of his association with one of the Air Force's most decorated and excellent units.  But, this pride isn't selfish or egocentric.  Instead, it's the kind of pride that includes and welcomes.  One night, over a beer Charlie explained how happy he was that people were so interested in history;  that playing a part in something bigger than oneself was vital.  One day, Charlie explained, the people of the 352nd would be gone.  What would remain would be all they stood for - excellence, service to others, duty to country. He asked us "young guys" if we agreed with those values.  As if there'd be any argument!  

We clinked glasses, drank to the 352 and winking, Charlie deemed us all worthy Bluenosers. But we knew he was just being gracious...