Maximum Effort Missions
When
I took over Maximum Effort missions had become the rule rather than the
exception. When the last of the planes
had taken off we returned dog tired, stop for some chow and head to our
quarters. It was always a long day and getting off a Maximum Effort mission was
exhausting. A Maximum Effort did not permit substituting planes if malfunctions
developed. It was necessary to get all aircraft airborne if it was at all
possible to do so. This could not be sustained. The ground crews had long since
passed the point of normal fatigue and were approaching the point of
exhaustion. Maximum efforts demanded that planes be flown though not in full
repair provided it was not critical. Navigators for example often flew without
the full contingent of Navigation aids originally provided. Good ground crews
strived for perfection. It was disturbing to them to not have time to make all
repairs they knew of – but more disturbing to feel there might be some they
didn't know of because there was not enough time to check. Flight crews gave
their plane a visual inspection, which hardly merits the term inspection. The Flight Engineer checked out the plane to
the extent it's instruments could tell him, ground crews knew such was cosmetic,
the problems they worried about could not be seen. Those of us performing
maintenance were aware things could be much worse than could be seen. It wasn't
until removal of some major item that you could inspect parts, some critical to
a system. I recall a check valve chaffed paper thin from hours and hours of
vibration inside a loose clamp. New airplanes became old airplanes. A Maximum
Effort with new planes was not the same to the ground crews as Maximum Efforts
on old planes. Many were flying with some equipment inoperative or performing
marginally adequate at best. Maximum Efforts demanded that all manpower be used
just to repair those items which had to work in order to make a mission
possible.
Most flight crew
personnel felt their plane was well maintained, and they were. My world was being told of what didn't
worked. If a ground crew needed help or
were stumped I heard about it, If a flight crew member didn’t like having to
make do, I’d hear about it. Operations
held me accountable to get aircraft airborne unless in the service center for
major repair. When going on a test hop
I felt no reluctance about the plane, my concern was if the flight crew could
land with an engine out – the greatest cause of North Field crashes.
Engine Change, Repeated
Some
efforts tested the endurance and self discipline of the men. I stayed through
one night to help a crew do an engine change.
By about 3:00 am we were ready to start
the engine. Each of us had been working silently with essential
conversation only. Moonlight was poor and each man worked by feel and with
dogged efficiency to save time and energy.
While doing the awkward things we’d comment there ought to be a better
way. Messerschmit engineers did a
superb job on the ME-109 for fast engine change using quick disconnects and
color coded parts. Such B-29
refinements had not been incorporated.
We felt we were almost done when we pull through the prop and the Crew
Chief climbed into the plane to start the engine. I stood in front so I could
see him and the engine. Another man stood to one side with a fire extinguisher.
The Crew Chief turned over the engine and hit the primer switch to inject some
gas before turning on the ignition. The engine expelled excess gas through the regurgitation tube. In the dim light I
watched the gas arc from the tube to the ground – something was wrong! A material that looked like rock salt had
flushed out with the gas. I took a second look then waved my arms overhead to
get the attention of the Crew Chief, drew my hand across my throat for him to
cut activity and waved him down.
Each
of the crew walked over and had a look, it was silica jell, a dehydrate bag had
broken and dumped into the carburetor.
Each person looked, said nothing and joined me to sit on a sand bag to
one side of the hard stand. I lit a
cigar stub I left on the nose strut and they lit their cigarettes. We were
silent except someone asking what time it was.
After a while I put my cigar out, walked back and started the processes
of removing the engine. One by one they joined me. Finally one said, "How in the hell did that silica gel get
into the carburetor?" Someone packaging the engine had broken a bag of
silica gel, used to absorb excess moisture in a sealed shipping container, and
it had spilled into the carburetor. The
plywood cover had been placed over the carburetor opening and the raw engine
packaged and shipped. We wondered if
anyone knew that happened? The problem
remained unknown till we primed the engine.
As I smoked my cigar stub I wondered if the carburetor would still work
OK. I created images in my mind of all
the internal parts. There was a good
chance it would work just fine, but there was also a chance that it might
not. It was a no contest choice, we
would not gamble on it’s being OK. No
one questioned my choice to remove the engine and put on another. By dawn we had the flawed new engine off and
I arranged for another crew to take over while we got some sleep.
The Cletrack could not back a full B-29 uphill
Until
a KS method was applied
A loaded B-29 weighed 70 ton with 6400 gal of gas and 10 ton of bombs. Tow bar attach point is just above tire on nose gear. Cletract at right
“Lt,
your needed at M-13, it’s loaded with fuel and bombs and we can’t back it up
the incline, it’s blocking the Taxi Strip.
Line Chief T/Sgt Hupp, located me at M-11 and said the M-13 problem
needed immediate attention. Returning
crews taxi in to the hard stand and their plane must be turned about by ground
crew so they can taxi out. Most of the
hard stands on North Field Guam were on flat ground, but M-13 was on a mound
area and shared it’s hard stand with M-3.
The air field was still being carved out of the jungle when the B-29s
arrived and made operational on an urgent basis.
It was quicker to
cut across on foot than to drive by Jeep. As we walked T/Sgt Hupp explained
that repairs on M-3 had prevented turning M-13 about when empty. It was difficult enough to pull a loaded
B-29 with a Cletrack, let alone back one – especially up an incline.
The
tow bar was a long tube within a tube with spring inside to absorb sudden
loads. A hinge pin attached the back of
the bar to the nose gear, and a open ring attached to the back of the Cletrack. The Cletrack had a gasoline powered engine
and was equipped with a pair of rubber
padded tracks with a 45 degree slope at front and back end.
Attempts
to back the 70 ton load up the slight incline had attracted a lot of attention,
some fifty guys had gathered, and several had tried to back the loaded plane up
the slope. My boss, Capt Keough, had
just been moved up to Group, now I was expected to know how to solve problems
and get things done. These fellows had
been teaching me about B-29s, they must have encountered a new kind of
problem. They made way for me to have a
ring side view of what was happening.
One fellow was in the cockpit, manning the brakes so the B-29 would not roll down hill. For my benefit one got in the Cletrack and began backing up. The fellow in the plane released the brakes as the tow bar spring compressed. The Cletrack driver tried to ease into the load using the foot throttle, if too little throttle the engine died, if too much the tow bar jackknifed lifting the Cletrack up on it’s nose. The carburetor would not work at that angle, mercifully stalling the engine before tossing the driver as if from a bucking horse.
They
stood back, making room for me to climb in the Cletrack. I’d never driven a
Cletrack before but I had driven an Allis Chalmers Cat for my uncle one summer. I readily found the big clutches and brakes
for each track plus the foot and manual throttle setting. I repeated the procedure they had been
trying – and immediately felt I was going to be tossed in front of the
Cletrack; a very uncomfortable sensation.
They didn’t laugh, like them I had swung and missed. I let the Cletrack settle back in place and
just sat there thinking a bit, nobody said a word.
Some
had said something’s wrong with the cletrack, it stalls out. Thank goodness it did, there is nothing
wrong with the Cletrack, the carburetor is not designed to work at a 60 degree
angle. With all those bombs and fuel,
this is one hell of an inertial load – like trying to move a box car of
wheat. None of these guys had ever
tried to move a box car full of wheat; but I had, when working at the Oberlin
Milling Company. Howard Banta wanted to
unload elevator bins into box cars to make room for new wheat, he did not want
to wait a full day until railroad crews could move box cars; and the time honored
manual pinch bar method was way too slow.
Howard asked if I thought I could move them with a tractor? I’d never seen it done but believed it had
been and could be done, by connecting to the heavy duty foot step on the back
side. Howard said the Railroad did not look kindly on damage to their cars or
track bed. I said it should work if we
took care to do it right, to pull steady and not lunge and stay beyond the
track ties. Howard said he could rent a
tractor. I said better rent an old one
as I’ll have to slip the clutch, and wouldn’t want to ruin a new tractor
clutch. Howard rented an old tractor
with iron lugs, only new tractors had rubber tires in 1939. I connected with a long log chain, and left
lots of slack, when I got the car moving I slacked off and idled along side the
box car till it was braked to rest out of the way. (This was easy to recall as one dark night when most busy and
using transient hired help, my helper tied the log chain, apparently miss
interpreting my instruction to leave lots of slack, he left no slack. I got the box car moving but the log chain
caught in the lugs dragging the tractor into a railroad tie and pulled the
tractor over on it’s side. I’d made a
leap into the dark to escape, luckily stepping on the side of the tractor
engine and not into the fan belt.)
That was it, I knew how to back the loaded B-29 up the incline.
Banta Elevator-Mill. RR track at left where box cars of wheat were moved with tractor. Keough solution?
I
knew Cletracks had heavy duty manual clutches for each track. Using the manual throttle, I set the engine
to deliver plenty of power and keep running.
I knew I’d need to slip the clutches for some time in order to put the
heavy mass in motion; I did not want to push too hard and jackknife the tow
bar. I was confident it would work, so
long as the clutches held out. Those
watching did not know how I was keeping the engine delivering full power while
only inching backward. It worked like a
charm and soon the guys were cheering when it became obvious the B-29 was
backing up the incline.
When I jumped down from the Cletrack several asked, now just how in the hell did you know how to do that. I smiled and said I learned that stunt growing up in Kansas.
Afterward I wondered how Keough would
have handled that. I smiled, he would
not have continued trying to put a square peg in a round hole, he would have
them tow it to a place on the diagonal turn off from which the flight crew
could load and taxi out.
Fix the Fluxgate Compass With Belt Buckle Polish
Most
planes used a regular magnetic compass, which tried to stand on end near the
magnetic pole. B-29s used a gyro
stabilized compass system for solving this problem. At Yale we were shown Pioneer Instrument company compasses with
special weighted needles for trips in magnetic polar regions. At the magnetic
equator, they'd hang weight down and point up, but near the poles they'd rest
horizontal and provide a direction vector.
The
Fluxgate Compass system had a transmitter mounted in the left wing tip. It had
an electro magnet held level by a gyro. The electro magnet's position was
sensed and sent over 3 phase wires to an electronic amplifier then to a
receiver indicator for the navigator, this was called a Selson system and used
a Magneson system for repeaters to pilots & bombardier. This permitted
flying with quality directional indication close to the magnetic poles.
Crew chiefs called upon Electrical Instrument specialists when there was a problem. Specialists had worked for many hours but this system was still performing erratically. They had gone through the usual remove and replace of send and receive instruments and had checked the wiring. They'd become frustrated and kicking the tires didn’t help. That’s when I would hear about it.
Trouble
shooting was simplified by the fact that one could stand on a ladder in the
bomb bay and check the wiring to and from the wing and to and from the
electronics by disconnecting a pigtail cable to the connector on the
pressurized compartment bulkhead.
After
my usual questions I took the volt-ohm meter and checked the wiring from this
location myself. The instrument leads had sharp points and one could poke the
point into the desired close spaced pins and sockets. It checked OK. I stood
staring at the bulkhead trying to reason the problem. My mind was distracted by
the traces of corrosion on the aluminum parts. The bomb bays were always open
on the ground and the humidity of the tropics was showing its slow but steady
corrosive advance. I wiped the gray chalky aluminum oxide with my finger so I
could concentrate on the problem. Then I wondered if the electrical terminals
were corroding? I called for a flash light and carefully inspected the
connector. The meter probes penetrated the surface tarnish to bare metal but
when the two halves of the connector came together their combined surface
tarnish caused a poor contact. Oxide is
an insulator, anodize treatment of aluminum is an oxidation process and creates
an insulation. The fact that these were low voltage signals which had to be
amplified to detect their difference required a high quality connection. The
exposed bomb bay and time had caught up with these planes especially if a
connection was left open during maintenance.
High voltage power circuits could break through the contact resistance
but not this sensitive instrument with feeble output.
I
got down and called the guys together telling them what I thought the problem
was. I asked them to crush some jewelers rouge, used for polishing uniform brass,
and mix it with some oil. (Model-T valve grinding compound was made by mixing
oil and carborundum grit.) I said to put the paste on a single pin (and socket)
and polish each contact. I was convinced that would work and had the specialist
take my jeep to get his personal jewelers rouge issued to all GI’s. I was told that fixed that chronic problem.
(This was one of the first applications of passing low level electronic signals
through such contacts. Post WWII
designs made use of non-corrosive pins and established standards such as 3ma
minimum to pass current through a switch contact. We knew none of this at the
time.)
Throttle Set to Inverse
I stopped to look in on a crew finishing an engine change. They asked me to do the start up and checkout. I sat down at the flight engineers console to start the engine when they yelled OK. I turned the engine through with the starter and it turned free. I set the throttle at about 1/8 open and the mixture control at auto-rich. I put one hand on the primer switch, which would release gas into the engine to help it start until it could pump and meter its own supply. I put the other hand on the starter switch. I flipped the starter switch to energize, the starter motor with a flywheel like armature revved up storing energy. When my ear detected it had reached the right pitch I flipped the switch to engage so it would connect the starter to the engine. I hit the primer switch. The engine coughed, began to catch hold and then, VROOOOM!! The thing surged to maximum RPM with a screaming roar violently shaking the aircraft. pushing against chocks and locked brakes!
Instinctively
I pulled the throttle back to full cutoff to stop the engine, but with no
effect. As this didn't work one part of me said shove the throttle forward, the
other part said no, that would drive it to full power, but that's what its
doing now! With will power I overcame instinctive reflex by placing both hands
on the throttle and shoved it forward to full throttle. The engine settled to a comfortable idle. Someone connected the carburetor link
backwards.
As
I sat there I wondered why it had taken me so long to implement the needed
action. I had a car foot feed stick and
stopped the engine by turning off the ignition, Why didn’t I turn off the ignition rather than hang up in a tug
of war with my instincts? Our minds get
stuck in thought patterns.
Change in Modis Operandi
My method of operation changed without my being aware, they were coming to me before I could make it to them. Due to some lucky guesses they thought I knew more than I did. They came to the engineering tent, in part to take a break and relieve their frustration. By then I knew each quite well, having busted knuckles together. I’d say, “take to load off and have a seat.” We’d grin at each other and I’d ask, “what was wrong before you fix it?” This began a dialog of me going through a check list of items and him giving his response. This was a learning session for me as well, I learned from their answers. Most often at some point they’d slam their fist on the table and say, “that’s it” and be gone with a “thanks” tossed back as they headed to their plane. I’d usually smile inside saying to myself as if to them, “you solved that yourself and taught me a thing or two.” I developed a great affection and learned a lot from them, almost all older and more experienced than I.
Connect the Wires "Wrong" to Make it “Right”
A crew chief stepped into the office saying we can’t get engine rpm to work and we’ve checked and recheck what we did. So with the usual have a seat and what was wrong before you fixed it, He said they repaired wiring in the engine compartment caused by flak damage. He said we’ve checked everything twice. As we drove to his plane in the jeep I asked if he'd checked for voltage from the generator when the engine was run, He said it put out voltage at the generator and at the wires to the indicator.
He said we put on new generators and new indicators and continuity checked the wiring; but it still didn't work. I looked at the generator connector. It had three pins marked A, B and C. I asked how they repaired the wires. He said we checked and rechecked them; A is to A, B is to B, and C is to C.
I
knew you reverse the direction of rotation of a 3 phase motor by reversing any
two wires. I recalled that at Yale there was a devise that did not wire A-A,
B-B, C-C.
I
got in the plane and started the engine, focusing my eyes on the rpm indicator
– seeking any indication the needle was trying to move. When I cut back to idle the needle seemed to
jiggle, but when I revved the engine it pressed solid against the stop as if
trying to run backwards. Ah, this must
be the instrument! I told the Crew
Chief to take the connector apart at the engine, the easiest to get at, and
reverse wires A and B, then it will work. Without further word I got in the
jeep and drove off to face another problem.
After
take off the crew chief came over and asked, "Lt, how in the hell did you
know the leads needed to be reversed?"
I waved to others near by to join us, telling of the problem and
solution, so they could pass on the information, the fellows appreciated this
kind of exchange.
I'll Have You Court Martialed for That!
In
addition to knowing aircraft maintenance and ground crews a Sqd EO had to deal
with problems they didn’t teach in cadets.
A new Bird Col fresh from the states, probably an air base commander
with an excellent prior war record, found himself “ordered” to fly missions
over Japan – he didn’t want to. (later
Maj Chandler said he didn’t remember the fellow – adding he probably thought his number was coming up
– that happened to some.)
No 2 engine on M-6,
the plane he was to fly, had a “liquid lock” and he made it known he would not
fly the plane if it was cleared by pulling the prop backwards. It was a “maximum effort” mission and there
was no time to remove plugs for a “proper” fix. I was called and found a collection of ground crew gathered, as
most other planes had taxied out.
I went to crew
chief Johnson who said, “that Col is dead set on nailing anyone that pulls that
prop backwards to clear the liquid lock.”
I asked how are the mag drops on that engine? (There are two spark plugs per cylinder powered by independent
magnetos – their condition is tested by running on one then the other and
checking for a difference in rpm.) He
said OK but marginal, if the flight engineer runs them too rich he can cause
the mag test to fail. I asked if he
knew the flight engineer? He said yes,
he’s OK, in fact he and the crew are irritated with how the Col is
behaving. I said OK, I’ll pull the prop
back to clear the liquid lock and have both you and the flight engineer check
it out before I call it in as fit to fly.
I waved all others
aside and pulled the prop backwards, it only took about 6 inches and I could
push it through. The Col came charging
out, angrily saying, “I saw you do that, this plane is not fit to fly!” I had expected this, and said, “Sir I’d like
for you and your crew to stand back out of the way, we are not finished and
I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”
From football I knew a good offense was the best defense – my treating
him with respect, but as if another GI, was not the effect he expected. I deliberately barked orders to ground crew
and they deliberately jumped to respond.
(I had two things going for me, the ground crew and I were as one, I’d
been an GI mechanic before becoming an officer, which helped make me one of
them. I also had a loud commending
voice well practiced from yelling Adjutant commands on the parade grounds at
Yale – I knew how to sound and play the part of one in command.) The Col took note of my obvious authority –
he was not in charge of the flight line.
After exaggerated checks I called for the flight engineer only, to join
the crew chief to check out the plane.
When the crew chief
came down, saying it was OK, I turned to the Col and said. “Sir it’s now all
yours”, and turned to walk away. He
exploded, as I thought he would, saying. “You made this plane unsafe to fly, I
saw what you did.” and loudly repeated
for all to hear, “I’ll have you court martialed for this.” My dander was up but I tried to keep my
cool, a 2/Lt does not smart off to a full Col – used to having the last word, I
was certain he’d earned his rank. I
turned to the Col and said, “this is a maximum effort mission and I’ve been
ordered to call in every airplane that’s fit to fly – I’m going over to that
phone and call in this airplane as fit to fly.
Now you can do whatever you wish about me, but I highly recommend you
get you ass in that airplane and fly it, as you’ve been ordered – or you will
have too many problems of your own to worry about me.” I looked him square in the eye as he flipped
through his choices. With few options
he said, “you’ve not heard the last of
this”, then angrily went to the plane.
He’d been making such a fuss – he was trying to save face – all knew
that.
As they taxied out, large number of ground crew gathered about asking, “can he really have you court martialed?” I said, “he sure can if Tech Orders say it’s not to be done.” For the next half hour the guys became lawyers combing through tech orders – but couldn’t find any such order. All had read notices posted in the states “Do Not Pull a Prop Backwards” and for good reason, it can cause problems for a plane with tail wheel in cold climate. Hot engine oil will drain into the cylinder head, if the prop is pulled backwards it shoves oil into the intake, it is retained there by gravity. It can come out as a glob when the engine starts, harming the engine.
When I arrived I
observed ground crews were pulling props backward and at first felt this was
wrong. So I studied the B-29
application and realized that due to the nose wheel, oil could not hang up, it
was perfectly safe so long as the prop was properly pulled through before
starting. I knew what I’d done was
safe.
The next morning
Maj Keough and Maj Uhrich came by and called me over saying, “we understand you
had a bit of trouble here last night.”
I said, “yes we did.” Keough
said, “the tower called about the Col’s complaint – he was quite upset.” Keough had been through this kind of thing
before, and said. “don’t worry, you did the right thing.” Uhrich added, “just keep doing a good
job.” They smiled, waved an informal salute
and drove off.
Following this
event Keough told me it had been decided to add another squadron to the current
28th 30th and 93rd
when we move to Okinawa and you are to be EO of the new squadron,
that he would return as EO of the 28th. He said the new squadron will be equipped with new B-29s using
fuel injection engines. Keough seemed
pleased “they” decided to put me in charge of the new squadron. This choice required endorsements higher
than Keough’s pay grade, I’d become known by the Col’s action. Operations CO’s also cope with people
problems they didn’t teach in cadets, I’d earned the right to chew on my
cigar.
Wind
Break on far side
Weighing a B-29
The Air Inspector threatened to write us up for not performing Weight and Balance checks. I sent word for the closest one to the wind break to start. About two hours later that crew chiefs entered the engineering tent saying, “Lt the reason these B-29’s have not been weighed is because nobody found a way to back a plane into that wind break and line up with the fixed jacks.” While we drove there in my Jeep he said, “I’ve been trying, but the damn thing jacknifes on me.” We got out and I said. “OK show me so I can see what’s happening.” Reluctantly he gave it another try which demonstrated the problem.
I
climbed in and tried it myself, and didn’t get much farther than he did. He smiled knowingly and said, “now you see
why this check has not been run.” (I’ve
omitted the four letter expletives.) I said, “yeah, now I understand; the design
should have been made so planes could be towed in place, not backed in place.”
The Cletrack needed
to be moved sideways to realign the tow bar.
I toyed with several options and recalled driving my uncles Cat. When busting open Lister ridges I guided with
the big track clutches, the load would drag and the clutch engaged track pull
the nose into alignment. One day,
moving the tractor to a different field I was coasting down a hill, and was
veering into a gully. I had to quickly
find the track brake peddle and guided down hill motion with the brake. I had admonishing myself for not
knowing. As I sat in the Cletrack I
thought why not use a combination of brake and clutch. By going forward then
backward, alternating brake and clutch, I could waddle the Cletrack
sideways. So I did just that, I walked
the Cletrack side ways, each time realigning the tow bar before backing some
more. In short order the B-29 was in
place over the weighing jacks. I jumped
off the Cletrack and said to the crew chief, don’t feel bad, I had the
advantage of driving a farm cat in Kansas. Now tell and show the others how
it’s done.
Scottie Salvos the Bombs – On the Hardstand!
I
asked why Scottie an electrical specialist was of lesser rank when he seemed to
be one of the most capable? They said
Scottie got busted, then explained.
Scottie had been called to check out a malfunction in the electrical
system. The aircraft was fully loaded
with fuel and bombs and Scottie was the only one in the plane when – Crunch –
Thud – Rumble! The bombs fell onto the blacktop! Those near by ran, then came back to look. They saw Scottie coming out of the airplane
“shaking like a leaf”. Scottie was a tall, quick moving, red headed, a nervous
acting, likable guy. He said he didn’t
know what releases the bombs. Scottie
was busted to set an example, while others advanced leaving Scottie noticeably
behind.
Dear John
Not
all requests for help or consultation pertained to aircraft. Maximum age for
enlisted personnel was 38. One of the fellows nearing that age and an excellent
mechanic came to me one day. I was very busy when he first arrived but he
waited patiently till he could find the right moment to say, “I’d like to talk
with you – it’s personal.” I broke away
as soon as I could and we walked off to an isolated spot.
He pulled out a letter from home and in a voice that became choked told me that his wife had run off with another man and this was a Dear John letter. I realized that he was taking this quite hard - he didn't want the others to know - yet he had to confide in someone. I thought he should talk with someone else, someone older a married person. I rejected the idea of suggesting he see the Chaplain - he had that option before he came to me. I felt awkward, he was coming to me, not as an officer but as one in need of a friend. His problem was too personal to go to just anyone, it seemed right to him to come to me with his problem. I felt compassion for him and did my best to help him. We talked for a long time, although others were seeking my attention. He appreciated my devoting time to him and his needs.
I
became a better officer because of this and tried to remain aware of the
fellows needs. Personnel needs were supposed to be handled by squadron
personnel officers and the Chaplain. In
practice it didn't work that way, ground crew were only in their quarters to
sleep and eat, “their” officer was the one they knew on the flight line.
The Air Inspector
The
military organization had a pyramid structure with a chain of command from the
president down to the private and visa versa. It was a part of the military
code that you never broke the chain of command. Since this left no alternative
to appeal a decision the military established the Inspector Generals office so
grievances could be filed through this channel. If the complaint was legitimate
the Inspector Generals office had the authority to cause the normal chain of
command to correct the situation. This channel was also used to investigate and
rate the performance of the regular chain of command. Air Force personnel in this branch were called Air Inspectors.
A
visit by the Air Inspector was generally preannounce, a bit like GI room inspection. The Air Inspector would log their findings as “squawks” and the
inspected work them off.
Sqd
maintenance had it’s own “Inspector” who in theory was to be called upon to
come inspect any major repair. I found
that in the urgency of meeting takeoff deadlines the practice of calling the
inspector had been abandon, there was simply not enough time. I was unaware of any lack of quality because
of this. Each crew chief inspected what
his crew did such that more than one pair of eyes checked to make sure things
were right.
The
CO had called Keough and Keough called me that an Air Inspector had selected
28th squadron for a shake down inspection. I was told he'd be there the next
day and to have things in order. I said fine but I didn't see what we could do
that we were not doing. I was told to treat him with kid gloves because he had
the authority to raise a lot of hell.
I
expected some Lt like myself but was surprised when a full bird Colonel walked
in early the next morning, introduced himself and said he wanted to go over the
maintenance records. We did in fact
have excellent records. The aircraft maintenance system had been set up on the
basis that records were to be kept by the crew chiefs. There was a Form lA
filled in by the flight crew before a flight and Form 2A after the flight, a
Form 41B for the aircraft, Form 60 for props, Form 61 for engines, etc. Keough
found records kept by the crew chiefs were always in arrears and almost
unintelligible from blackened smears, so he set up a clerk to keep the records
and make the rounds each day so crew chiefs were relieved of this worry, and
our records legible and maintained.
I
introduced the clerk and requested he provide the Colonel whatever records he
needed, then told the Colonel that if there was anything I could help him to
ask the clerk to get me as I'd be out on the flight line.
I
found the Colonel was quite impressed with the quality of our records, but
didn't say so to me, he informed me of complaints. His main complaint was
incomplete modification kit changes. He became a bit demanding almost
insinuating in behavior. He probably found this form of intimidation quite
effective in getting fast response and corrective action. This simply ruffled my feathers and set the
tone for a difficult two days. He was determined to show this young Lt who was
boss and the young Lt was determined to immediately correct any discrepancies
and not take any guff.
It really began when he said the planes should be grounded for not having incorporated the mod kits. I told him they were red diagonal items not red X's, that we carried them on the records as such and any pilot could sign off and fly the plane. A red / (diagonal) mark was placed in the maintenance form status block for a major but not critical fault and a description given for what the problem was. A pilot could sign the preflight form acknowledging same and assume the risk of flying the plane. A red X in this block indicated that there was a critical fault and that the plane could not be flown. An engineering officers signature was required to remove the red X which was certification that the fault had been corrected.
In
airplane mechanic school I taught how to keep these records and knew the fine
lines of authority established in technical orders. There was a degree of
legality to the entire procedure and definitions of authority. This had been
evolved over the years as a protection and definition of liability in the event
of crashes with loss of lives and property damage. The fact that I was correct on this issue didn't help and he told
me he'd have to write me up for being negligent. I couldn't see that I was
negligent about anything and that such a report would reflect on those I
reported to, so I told him if he did I would appeal it because he had no
grounds for such a report. The conversation became heated.
I
asked him the degree of my responsibility. For example were we to be considered
negligible if the mod kits were not available? He said yes, you have to order
them. I responded, that was a lot of malarkey, the mod kits didn't sit in the
warehouses, the system was set up to have them delivered to the aircraft on
arrival.
Now
he knew he had me, I had not attempted to get them but had just sat back and
waited. He let me have it with both barrels. I walked over to the desk, pulled
open the drawer and tossed a stack of requests for mod kits on the desk and
said help yourself to these. They are all request for mod kits and all marked
not in stock. He leafed through them,
he was impressed but wouldn't admit it. Then he said but these are over 30 days
old. They have to be requested every 30 days. He had searched till he found
some over 30 days old. With that I
leaned out of the office and yelled to the Sergeant in our supply tent, who I
could see behind his makeshift counter giving a guy a hair cut. I told him to
close his barber shop and run these requests to the supply center, get the
parts or have them stamped not in stock, pronto.
We
broke up to go to chow shortly after that. When I got back to the flight line I
had a call from the CO wanting to know what the hell I was doing to the Air
Inspector. He said he was as mad as a wet hen and determined to nail us with
something. I told him what had been going on.
Maj Uhrich said he understood but that I should stop contesting him;
i.e., let him write up something so he'll go away.
That
afternoon he was all over the place writing up squawks and by the end of the
day presented me with the list. I
looked it over, grinned and asked if he thought he'd missed anything. Then I told him I'd put two guys on it till
it was done and asked if any of the items were of a nature that needed
immediate attention. His mood softened
and we parted with courteous amicability.
I was later told he’d given us the highest rating in the Group. I
respected him for doing his job well, but knew he was not enthusiastic about
me.
There are Japs in the Jungle
I
needed to drive down the island for some parts and stopped at the mess hall for
a bite before leaving. During small talk in the chow line a friend said he'd
like to go along if I'd take him by the main Navy base near Agana as he wanted
to send a money order.
Hi
Way to North Field Jeep flag
“weapon”
We
obtained the parts at Harmon Field in the center of the island, completed his
business and headed back to North Field. There was little traffic and we were
traveling through a jungle lined region of the road when a Guamanian policeman
come out onto the road and wave us down.
He
was very excited and spoke to us in a low voice between quick glances back into
the jungle. He pointed saying, “there are Japanese in the jungle!” he said he
had heard them, he didn't want to go in again without help – he wanted me to go
get the Marines.
The
situation seemed both foolish and realistic. The war was still on and it was
well known there were Japanese on the island, they were known to hid out in the
cliff area rimming the north end of the island. This cliff region was
militarily off limits, we were told some soldiers had been shot exploring the
region. The numerous caves and nature
of the area made it impractical and pointless to search out and make safe.
However no one spoke of Japs being in the main plateau jungle.
It
seemed ridiculous to go charging into the nearest Marine base and “tell them to
go after Japs in the jungle” – this might be an over-imaginative native
policeman. There was little doubt he
believed Japanese were there. He wanted to know if we had any guns. Guns issued
to us had been in our barracks since arrival with little thought of their being
needed. I asked my friend what he
thought. He said there might be Japs there and he'd just as soon leave it that
way, he had no interest in finding out.
The
policeman then turned to me, his facial expression saying it’s in your hands,
what are you going to do? To him I was
a US Officer, and was expected to “do something”. I asked, how far is it?
He said I’ll take you to where you can hear them, but no more without
guns and help. I felt rather foolish as
I looked in the jeep for a weapon of some sort, there was nothing. The Guamanian had a big knife for hacking
vegetation and insisted I should have some kind of weapon – so I pulled out the
flag pipe mounted on the front bumper. Jeeps used on the airfield had flags on
the front bumper. I rolled up the flag
and grabbed it by the flag end – feeling a bit silly doing so.
Thus "armed", the native policeman, myself and reluctant unarmed friend headed for the jungle, to hear proof. The policeman led the way becoming more cautious the further we went – then stopped and pointed to where I should go while he and my friend followed. I felt like a kid playing cowboys and Indians – my friend stopped following. I began to wonder if maybe this was for real, perhaps I was being foolish rather than it being a foolish endeavor.
The
policeman's mode changed to that of silent alertness and hesitancy, motioning
me to go on – to be quiet and listen. I
listened and went on and listened some more wondering what I'd do if I came
across a Jap, or if one came at me, an intruder in their safe domain – the
policeman no longer followed.
After
going some distance alone – I could hear the sound of human voices. It was high pitched and had a sing song
pattern to it but I couldn't hear well enough to be certain, so I went on
crouched as I moved, weapon ready, not making a sound. I could hear better, it still seemed
unintelligible, I wished I knew what Japanese sounded like. There would be a pause, then a sound,
something like "Oh God" followed by unidentifiable sounds.
The
“Oh God” was not Japanese ! ? I
proceeded a little further and could make out the form of a man laying on the
ground in a small clearing ahead? He
was face down and seemed to be beating the ground with his fists and making
noises. As he couldn't see me, I went closer.
He had on GI fatigues but that didn't prove anything. Then I could
definitely catch words, English words! It was a GI! Was he nuts or something! I stood erect and walked toward him
wondering if he was off his rocker and might be dangerous.
He
abruptly rolled over and saw me there. His mouth opened in sudden silence as we
stared at each other. The native policeman was not in sight and I didn't know
what the man might do. I was about to
speak when he jumped to his feet, came to attention and saluted me. I was so dumb founded, I don't recall if I
saluted back or not. I asked if he was all right, was he sick or something, was
he in any kind of pain?
In
a very soldierly military manner he explained that he was worshipping God in
the manner of his belief. I said this
seemed an odd place to worship? He
explained that he went out alone away from others, because they didn't
understand. I told him that the native
policeman, who had also come into the clearing, thought he heard Japs and that
from the sound of his voice it almost sounded that way to me. The GI said he'd
never though of that, but could see how it might be mistaken.
Though
the whole thing seemed odd, he was perfectly rational in his manner and
attitude, identifying his name and outfit and stating he was off duty. I said fine, but recommended he modify his
sound a bit – it would be unfortunate to be mistaken as a Jap and shot by
mistake. He thanked me for being more
understanding than most.
The policeman and I
walked in silence back to the Jeep. I
smiled at the native policeman and shook his hand – to let him know I
understood, saying thanks for doing a good job.
A
month after the war ended, returning from 315 wing, a few miles from there I
observed about 40 Japanese walked out of the jungle onto the road and
surrendered.
The Roar-- Then Crash, Eleven Dead
19th
BG B-29 crash, same location as another described below
I
gave a lift to a flight crew member to pick up a chute and May West and had
commented on the homemade aluminum watch band he'd made with unique engraving.
Later
while driving from the service center in a jeep I heard the roar of engines
groaning under emergency power. I looked in time to see the crash. The classic
error had taken its toll again. When landing with one engine out the pilot saw
that he was not lining up with the runway and decided to go around again. He'd
applied full power equally to all three good engines then found he was falling
into the bad engine. Too late he'd slammed the lone engine on the weak side to
max power.
The
area on the left sides of the main runways was full of bull-dozed tree trunks.
It was a horrible sight to see a plane burst into flames as it augured into the
trunks. The above crash photo's is of a
prior crash at almost the identical location.
I
rushed there in my jeep and was the first to arrive. I searched the rubble on
the runway. A wing section, engine and fuel tank were strewn there. I passed
what I thought was a burning piece of fuel tank in my search for bodies, others
rolled a body out of what I thought was the burning rubber fuel tank.
I
rushed down among the tree trunks and helped get a stretcher to a body and
helped pass it over tree trunks to others to the ambulance. In this instance as
I lifted the stretcher I saw the left arm dangle and on it was the engraved
watch band I had admired about two hours before. None survived.
These
images were in the back of my mind whenever they'd land with one engine out. I
was not alone. All flight crew members left word with Bernard B. Bugg regarding
what to do with their personal effects in the event they did not return.
Moral Support, for Test Hop
The
man I replaced had been killed in a test hop when their plane crashed near the
tower. The pilot and some of the crew
survived. Vern Chandler said the pilot of
that plane was at the 20th AF Reunion in Seattle Aug 92, unfortunately I didn't
get to see him or recall his name.
When
I asked to go along on a mission I was told engineering officers were not
permitted to go on mission flights. The rational was that the training system
had not been set up to provide replacements for those lost. However we could go on test hops with no
questions asked.
After
an engine change the engine was run on the ground for 1/2 hour of Slow Time,
the oil was drained and the permanent magnet in the drain plug checked for
metal particles. If all was well the plane was flown for an hour by a flight
test crew. When they returned the oil was drained and the plug checked again.
The flight crew would report any items in need of repair and the ground crew
would make repairs and prepare it for the next mission.
A
call was put into operations for a flight test crew as soon as we'd start the
slow time. This way they'd be ready with the parachutes, etc., so no time was
lost in getting airborne. M/Sgt Hunt
and I were visiting with the flight test crew who had just arrived, waiting
till they completed slow time. Suddenly right before our eyes it looked like
the engine had exploded, oil and smoke going everywhere in the prop wash! The
Pilot turned and said, "and you expect us to fly THAT!"
Hunt and I were already on our way to have a look. Hunt said, "damn, they must have only put the sump plug in finger tight and it fell out!" The crew chief was embarrassed, at having made such a mess, saying, "it's my fault I should have taken time to tighten it with a wrench." I said nothing. Then glancing at the flight crew he added, "it must have looked like hell to them. I'm sorry Lt it will take us about 15 min to get it cleaned up and ready for them." His crew were already at work with solvent and the means to clean up the mess. Hunt stayed with them to help and I walked back to the flight test crew.
They
were a new green crew, I didn't know them and they didn't know me. My
explanation that everything was all right didn't sell well. To indicate my
conviction I said I'd be willing to fly in it – they immediately took me up on
that – telling me how to get a parachute as if this act would guarantee it
really was all right. Actually I was delighted, I'd never been on a B-29 test
hop before, now I could go without permission. They showed me how to put on the
chute, but as we accelerated down the runway I wondered how high you had to be
before it would do any good and what the procedure was to operate it. I decided
to hell with the chute just enjoy the flight and did, my concern was not of the
aircraft's maintenance but if these guys knew how to fly it.
I
was always apprehensive about an inexperienced crew. I had watched many
landings where the plane wasn't level and one gear hit and then the other. I
had observed the amplitude and speed with which this would throw the tail
section from one side to the other side of the runway. In the zip-zip time
between tire screeches the tail would whip across the runway and back. Aware of
how bad landings cracked the landing gears on B-26's and how crews training in
UC-78's would crack the horizontal stabilizers – my thoughts never ceased to
wonder if such treatment could cause hidden damage. I often wondered if I would
have been a good pilot.
Mother
Hen for P-51 Chicks
Aircraft letters
and numbers 19th
BG planes were identified with a large M on their tail fin. 28th Sqd airplanes were numbered from
M-1..M-20. When I got there M-15 was the largest numbered M airplane in the
Sqd, higher numbers were missing. The
original set included an M-20 which had been lost. Some of the planes had been moved to Iwo Jima for air sea rescue
or Mother Hen duty.
Mother Hen for P-51
Chicks One of our B-29's served out of Iwo,
providing Navigation for P-51 chicks.
Mine Laying The Resume of 20th AF Missions, a
collection of Summary Sheets prepared by 20th AF Headquarters, shows that mine
laying operations were assigned to the 6th BG, 313th Wing Tinian.
Mining Missions were flown at night, repeatedly reseeding the waters about
Japan. These operations had a lower loss rate than General Purpose or
Incendiary raid missions. The Japanese used Search Lights to make sightings of
where the Mines were dropped.
315th Wing against
the Oil Industry and Supply
The Resume data shows that the planes from the 315th Wing operating from
North West Field Guam seldom merged with other wings on missions, they flew at
night carrying heavy high explosive bomb loads, their targets were the Oil
Industry and Supply. These were the latest B-29's equipped with the latest
radar and all but the Tail Guns had been removed. This permitted extra heavy
loads – Their mission data showed few losses due to Enemy Action. The Japanese were very short of fuel near
the end and many Japanese navy ships became off shore artillery. It was such
a ship that shot down my cousin Vince Aug 9, 1945 after a raid on a Japanese
air field.
No More Good Targets
Repeated
Maximum Effort missions caused everyone to feel beat. I recalled the damage assessment maps at 20th AF headquarters war
room, and the comment “we are running out of good targets.” Some flight crews wrote home that they
couldn’t understand why the Japanese didn’t surrender. Ground crews had no visibility except
awareness the 20th AF capability kept growing and growing. Our field was only one of five just like it
in the Marianas, and few were being loosest over the target.
In an effort to encourage surrender and save civilian lives the 20th AF announced we’d bomb one of three targets, knowing Japanese defense was greatly diminished. The Maximum Effort missions were intended to cause them to recognize they could not win and should quite. Unfortunately they didn’t have a surrender mode.
Wings-N-Flaps
A fundamental attribute that made the B-29 a success was it's wing and flap design. Boeing chose to use their own special wing design to achieve low drag for long range and high lift for heavy loads. Special large flaps were used in conjunction with the wing to provide necessary lift for take off and landing yet provide low drag for long flights. The wing loading was 69 lb/sq ft, and was as much as 80 lb/sq ft for the heavy loads from the Marianas. The AF was not pleased with such high wing loading as it made the plane more difficult to fly, yet it was necessary to achieve the long range required. The primary credit for this design goes to Eddie Allen head of Advanced Engineering and Flight Test and George Scherer an aerodynamicists both graduate engineers from MIT.
Abruptly the A-Bomb
It
was a complete surprise to us when we too heard of the dropping of the Atomic
Bomb. The operation had been launched from Tinian which is within sight of
Saipan. Smitty, the graduate chemical engineer, was quite concerned about what
had been turned loose. It had been
hoped our maximum effort missions would cause them to recognize the futility of
continuing. The A-Bomb was beyond our
comprehension, we couldn’t understand why a second bomb would be needed.