Legend of Millie Durgan Indian Captive
14th Air Force
322nd Troop Carrying Squadron
Lo Ping, China
In Memory Of My Beloved Uncle
Harry L. Hewitt
1920 - 1999
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Memories of Staff Sergeant
Harry L. Hewitt |
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Squadron Patch for the 322nd was sent to me by Tom Flanagan who served in the same squadron as Harry. Thank you Tom.
This account of the service of Staff Sergeant Harry
L. Hewitt in the United States Army Air Corps, was taken from his memoirs
shortly after his death.
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| C46 Curtis Commando | C47 | B26 Marauder |
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A 18 |
Left Harry
L. Hewitt Right Unknown Friend |
B 25 |
At fort Ord we had just four weeks of basic training. This was war and the government had to rush everything. They trained us a little bit in military discipline, articles of war, what the war was all about, history of the Army and a little marching. We were issued uniforms and some equipment and in four weeks, almost instant GI’s ( government issue). From then until discharge everything we owned or wore was government issue. We were even insured by the government for ten thousand dollars. Of course, at that time, I named Bonnie as my beneficiary. Incidentally it was about this time that I found out that my brothers Fred, Jim and Sam had all joined the army air force at about the same time as I.
After completing basic training, I was assigned to Mather Air Force Base in Sacramento. Mather was a navigation training base with a squadron of AT 18’s, Lockheed twin engine planes. I joined the communication department under a Capt. Williams. The communication section was in charge of a ground station, the control tower and supplied radio operators to the planes for the navigation missions. The whole mission here was to train cadets to be qualified navigators so they could be assigned to combat crews. When they graduated from Mather, they became 2nd. Lieutenants. I was sent to ground school to learn all about the radios used in the airplanes , control tower operation and I had to learn the Morse code good enough to send and receive 35 words per minute. All long distance communication was done by Morse code then and when you completed this school you were called “dit” happy. “Dit “dit” “dit” daa, “dit” “dit” “dit” daa!” It was drummed into me so soundly that I still remember most of the Morse code alphabet and the phonetic alphabet, able, baker, charlie, dog, etc. When I completed this school and became a qualified radio operator I was promoted from private Hewitt to buck sergeant Hewitt! I don't remember ever being a corporal and if I was it must have been for a very short time. At last my dreams came true.
I was flying two or three times a week, getting flying pay and was wearing a crew members silver wings! Our flying missions were usually simulated submarine searches over the Pacific ocean that lasted four or five hours a day. My job was to stay in contact with the ground station and give our position periodically. One of the missions that I really liked was when we used Crater lake, Oregon, as our target. What a beautiful sight it was and what a thrill when the pilot decided to dive down and fly around the crater less than a hundred feet off of the water.
Having duty at Mather was almost like a civilian job to me as I was allowed to live off the base at our apartment. Bonnie and I entertained some of my army buddies there and life was pretty good at that time. In fact it was so good, I found out that when I knew I wasn't flying the next day, I could call in sick and have an extra day off. Well one day, I pulled that stunt once too often. I was laying in bed one morning when much to my surprise came a knock on our door. Bonnie opened the door and there was an ambulance driver with a medic. The first sergeant, of my squadron, had ordered them to pick me up and take me to the base hospital! That was the last time I called in sick.
After several months at Mather, our navigation training squadron received orders to pack up and move to Ellington Field, Texas. Our “gravy train” was over and we would, at last, be closer to the war time regulations and experience life as regular soldiers in the army. We would be moving all our planes, about fifty, and as much equipment as we could get aboard. The rest would be trucked to Texas. When my turn came to go, I was to fly in the copilots seat with a young pilot and help him navigate and operate the radio for him. In the back we were carrying some equipment and three enlisted men from our ground crew. Well, this was a. trip I will never forget! The young pilot, I could tell, didn't have many hours of flying, and hardly any in the Lockheed AT 18. He was very nervous and his flying had much to be desired. He even asked me, a buck sergeant, if I had any experience flying this airplane!
Our route was to fly south to L.A. and then east to Houston, Texas. Almost immediately after take off we flew into a storm and was flying blind or on instruments. This didn't help the pilots moral in the least! It was very cold in the airplane and he was sweating! This didn't help my moral! The pilot started complaining about the engines, and thought they sounded rough to him. In the meantime, as we were climbing to about ten thousand feet, the plane was picking up ice. You could see it on the leading edge of the wing and then the propellers started picking up ice on the tips and would fling it off and hit the skin of the airplane just behind the cockpit. The noise was loud and nerve racking. To make things worse, the windshield was fogging over and you couldn't see at all. The pilot yelled that we would have to find a hole in the overcast and land as soon as possible. I could see out of my side window and noticed a hole in the clouds. I could even see Fresno below. Informing the pilot, he literally dove down through the hole and told me to call Fresno tower, that we would make an emergency landing. I got landing instructions and we made an emergency landing with all the ground emergency vehicles following us.
We taxied up to the ramp and was met by
an officer and some aircraft mechanics. Going all over the engines, the
mechanics could not find any thing wrong with them. The officer in charge of
transit aircraft convinced our pilot to continue on our flight and with
misgivings, we proceeded to take off. The weather had cleared to CAVU, (ceiling
and visibility unlimited), and the flight was uneventful until we started to
land at Demming, New Mexico to refuel and RON, (remain over night). I called
Demming tower and got landing instructions and we proceeded to enter the landing
pattern. Turning on final approach the tower yelled at us that we were on
fire! Glancing back over our right wing I could see flames trailing out of the
engine clear back to the tail. Once again the emergency vehicles were out
following us down the runway!
As I understand it, the pilot screwed
up the mixture controls on the engine and the excess gasoline was burning out
the exhaust pipes. Anyway, he shut down the engines and the fire went out.
Thank God we got to spend the night in Demming and get a good nights sleep. The
next morning the mechanics checked out the engines again and we were off to
Houston. Flying over Texas was awesome, nothing but prairie as far as you could
see
.
Finally, after hours of flying, up over
the horizon appeared the city of Houston. It was big and reminded me of a fairy
tale city like the city of Oz. Looking on the chart we could see that Ellington
Field was a few miles south of Houston, so I called for landing instructions.
We were told to enter the downwind leg on runway 4L, 40 degrees, left hand
traffic and notify the tower when we entered the downwind leg. When an airport
came in sight, the pilot told me to tell the tower we were entering the
pattern. I did so and the tower acknowledged but said he did not have us in
sight yet. When we turned on to the base leg I called again and once again the
tower acknowledged but still couldn't see us. Turning on final approach, I
called again and the tower said, “ You must be far out as I still cannot see
you”! It didn't make sense as we could see the runway, big and clearly. All of
a sudden, about fifty feet below us appeared an enormous four engine American
Airlines passenger plane! “ Oh my God ”, yelled the pilot, “ this isn't
Ellington, it's Houston Municipal ! ”. Giving both engines full throttle, he
pulled up and got us the hell out of there! We finally found Ellington Field
and landed safely without further incident. I never saw that pilot again and
later heard that he asked to give up flying and was assigned some sort of desk
duty.
Ellington Field is an enormous air base, (it has since been taken over by NASA). It has two sets of runways side by side. The north has right hand traffic and the south has left hand traffic. Our navigation training squadron took over the south end of the field. The base had three control towers , the north tower, south tower and what we called the transient tower for transient aircraft which of course was in the middle of the field. The north side was an advanced pilot training base with about a hundred small twin engine planes we used to call the bamboo bombers. I believe they were AT 11’s By this time we had about a hundred planes also. This was a very busy air base as the two groups were flying day and night.
Although Capt. Williams kept me on flying status, he made me a control tower operator as well. You were only allowed to be on duty for four hours at a time as it was such a nerve racking duty. We called our tower “navigation control” and not only had our planes to worry about but the pilot trainers sometimes would fly at our end also, when they were busy with too many airplanes taking off and landing at the same time. We had four frequencies to monitor with our planes, four with the pilot trainers, four transit aircraft plus Air Traffic Control for long distance flight plans to relay and phones to all the different air groups. Phones also to the emergency departments, fire stations, ambulance, etc. and the commanding officers HQ! We had to coordinate traffic with the North tower and the transient tower. Night and day there were planes lined up for take off, the traffic pattern would be crowded with landing airplanes, the radios would be busy with planes flying their missions all over the state and wanting information and they all wanted attention now! The planes on the ground had to hurry as their engines were heating up. The planes in the pattern had to hurry as they were running out of gas. There were flights coming into the pattern at all times and you had to keep track of all of them. Different planes had different air speeds so you had to space them so that they didn't run into each other. Each plane called in at each leg of the pattern and you had to acknowledge every radio transmission and, you were supposed to log each call in the log book. So, there were ten to fifteen in the pattern, twenty or more waiting for take off and forty or fifty about to call for landing instructions. Yes, we were very busy for just two men! That's why you could only work four hours and then have at least 24 hours off.
We had six rotating shifts to cover the twenty four hours. We were always behind and finally we were assigned a WAC (women's army corps.) to help keep the logs. That helped some but the casualty rate was very high in the training bases. At our base alone there were four to five cadets killed in training every month. We were not too proud of this and it was a great source of depression for us. I have heard that there were more men killed in training than there were in combat battles. Most of the fatalities at Ellington happened during night flying and usually in the traffic pattern. The cadets were really harassed in the push to get them through their rigorous training. Most of them were nineteen or twenty years old. They had so much to learn in so little time and they had to call everyone “Sir”. Even the enlisted men. It seemed to them that everyone was on their case. So, under stress like they were, it was no wonder they would get confused flying at night. Most of the fatalities happened on final approach. With the traffic pattern so crowded sometimes there would be two planes on final approach one on top of the other.
We would try very calmly to let them know what the situation was and tell them not to do anything until they ascertained who was where and then pull up or take evasive action. It didn't always work though and they would sometimes panic and pull up into the plane above. These pilot trainers had two cadets flying at the same time, so when there was a collision it would usually involve four men. I was on duty one day after a night accident that had killed four cadets when I was ordered to report to the commanding officer. The colonel was waiting for me at headquarters in the main office. I reported to him as told and he proceeded to ream my butt for about fifteen minutes in front of all the people in the main office. Standing there at attention, he told me in loud clear and precise language what he thought about our pitiful, inefficient, terrible and ineffective communication section. The fact that I wasn't on duty during the crash didn't make any difference to him as long as he had someone to come down on. Of course I had to stand there and take it with my red face, or I could have told him to go to hell and spend the rest of my military life in the brig. When at last, he got finished, it seemed like hours, he did say, sergeant, I don't blame you, it's that idiot of a commanding officer of yours. To myself I wondered why Capt. Williams wasn't here instead of me but that is the way of the army. Looking back on it now, I can understand the frustration the Colonel felt, having to explain those fatalities to the cadets family and to the air force. As I said before, war is hell.
By this time, Fred was in a B26 target towing squadron at the old Glendale airport. Jim went to an air force collage and was entering pilot training, where, I don't know. Sam had volunteered out of high school and was training as a flight engineer and gunner for combat in B 17’s. The timing and etc. may not be absolutely correct but this was what I thought was happening to them at that time.
I was at Ellington for about a year. Bonnie got a room in Houston and I could visit her on a weekend pass. The war in the Pacific was still going badly but the war in the ETO was really heating up. At last the British and American air forces were making progress against the German air force. We were actually bombing Germany now and carrying the war to them for a change. Shicklegruber had made a mistake in attacking Russia and had his military forces spread too thin. We had beaten him in Africa and were chasing him up his butt and the Italian boot. That was about the time Sam finished training and joined a B17 crew. They flew their new B17 to South America and across the Atlantic to Africa and then up to Italy. The only contact I had with my brothers was through Mom. She would write me often and tell me all the news. June and Tony had joined the USO (United Service Order) and was entertaining the GI’s in the South Pacific. Brother Cliff was at the Mare Island Naval Shipyard in Vallejo, working as a machinist and was frozen to that occupation. He could not quit that job as he was considered a key employee in that place.
After you have been in the army you will quickly find that nothing stays the same. They love to shake you up and transfer you at short notice. After a year at Ellington, a bunch of us were transferred to different places. I ended up at Del Rio Texas in a B26 training squadron as an radio operator. Bonnie went back to California and got a job somewhere. We corresponded a lot but I was really preoccupied with the job in the air force.
Del Rio is right on the border with Mexico and across the river is a town called Via Acu`na but that is another story! Del Rio air force base was a lot smaller than Ellington. The squadron there was an advanced pilot training field using the B26 Martin bomber called the Marauder. It was also called the flying bum as it had no visible means of support! It was a medium size bomber and used mainly, then, as a low level attack plane. It had very short wings and even the engine cowling had built in lift to help it fly! It had two RA 2800 Pratt and Whitney engines with four bladed Hamilton electric propellers. It was fast as hell, for that time and had a landing speed of one hundred and thirty miles an hour. It would stall at about one hundred miles an hour.
The first ride I had as radio operator was at four thirty in the morning for a cross country to Los Angeles. The young pilot, noting that it was my first trip, told me a little about the B26 and I remember well, him telling me that if we have engine trouble to look at the altimeter and if we are above ten thousand feet, try to bail out but if we were below ten thousand to forget it as we will be on the ground before you can get to the bomb bay door.! Four thirty in the morning, sick to my stomach, a strange and hot airplane, a new crew, a nervous cadet flying it, Lord, what am I doing here!
The young pilots name was Lieutenant Riley and was the personification of what was called a hot pilot! He was riding the co-pilots seat and the cadet was doing the flying. With us also, was the navigator, the engineer and another student pilot. Much to my surprise the trip was uneventful until we got to L.A.. When we got to L.A. the pilot couldn't locate the Glendale airport. Since I had told him that I used to live there, he asked me to come up front and locate it for him. We were at about ten thousand feet and it was hard to see as it was camouflaged for wartime. I pointed out the runway which ran along the Griffith park hills and at last he spotted it. Without warning, he put the plane in a dive, with me hanging on to the back of his seat. What a wild ride! I think he left my stomach at ten thousand feet!
By the way, I had found out that Fred was the communication chief there and I contacted him on CW (morse code), to let him know I was coming in. With Fred watching, Lt. Riley made a hot landing and so fast he had to ground loop at the end of the runway to keep from running onto the dirt. Fred was very helpful to us and he replaced a lot of our equipment such as throat mikes and head phones that we needed. Since we were to remain overnight the crew went to Hollywood for some R and R. I, of course, went with Fred to stay with the family. We were supposed to take off early the next morning but when I arrived I found out that Lt. Riley was having so much fun in Hollywood he contacted our squadron at Laughlin AFB and made up a story about engine trouble so he could stay another day.
So I had another day to visit the family which I enjoyed very much. Since cigarettes were rationed, I had brought along several packs for Dad as they cost only 10 cents a pack at the PX. At that time Mom was living at June and Tony's “farm” in Becket Mass. with Tony Jr. and “Bessie” of course. When I arrived back at the Glendale airport, it was obvious that the crew had had a wild time in Hollywood. Lt. Riley was still drunk and unfit to fly, so the engineer a Master sergeant, said he and one of the student pilots would fly the airplane in order to keep Lt. Riley out of trouble. I was to contact our air base as soon as we were airborne to let them know we were on our way home.
Part of the radio equipment we had was a big Collins transmitter and receiver for long distance communication. It had a 300 foot trailing antenna with a ten pound tear drop shaped lead weight on the end. It was operated by an electric motor powered reel with a counter and a brake to stop it at the proper length. The Glendale airport had only a single runway and when we took off we had to fly directly over the city of L.A. When we had climbed to about a thousand feet, I started letting out my trailing antenna. Putting on the brake at the right length, nothing happened and the whole antenna went all the way out and broke off right over downtown L.A. I often wonder what or whom it hit and I hope it didn't do any damage or hurt someone. Without the antenna, the radio didn't have enough power to get out to our ground station in Del Rio. We were almost to New Mexico before I could contact them. Pressing the head phones tightly to my ears I could just barely hear their signal. They said that Laughlin was closed because of weather and for us to divert to Albuquerque air force base and remain until the weather cleared. By this time Lt. Riley had sobered up to the point that he knew he was in trouble for staying an extra day in L.A.. When I gave him the message he said, to use his words, (I hope I don't offend anyone), “ the colonel is going to nail my balls to the sh—t house walls”. However, we did make it back and Lt. Riley was still flying and didn't get in too much trouble.
I was able to make many cross country trips after that and began to enjoy the rides in the B26 Marauder. The radio operators who lived on the coast would fly those missions and the one's who lived on the east coast took those trips. It got to be pretty routine after a while and we didn't have as many accidents as we did at Ellington. The pilots trained at Laughlin became 2nd Lieutenants and went directly into combat units at various places around the world. When they completed their training and received their commissions we enlisted men would hang around the graduating class when they came out and try to be the first one's to salute them. You see, the custom then was, they had to give a dollar bill to the first enlisted man to salute them! If one was on his toes, he could make quite a bit of money.
One day, I received a telegram from Mom that Sam was missing in action. I cant tell of the feeling I had. Here I was in a “safe” occupation in the states and my little brother had been shot down in combat somewhere in the ETO. Now one thing you learn in the army is, never volunteer for anything! I was upset about Sam, I had a guilty conscious about being in the states and I felt that I had to change that. So, stopping my commanding officer on the street, a major, I saluted, stood at attention and told him about Sam being shot down over enemy territory. The major was very understanding and said he would see what he could do. Sure enough, a few days later, I received orders to transfer to a special B26 outfit in Italy that were training for low altitude attack missions.
I was put aboard a troop train and along with many other men, transported to a camp at Ashville North Carolina. There, we were issued clothing and equipment for the ETO. We were assigned to a barracks and waited for orders and waited and waited. There is a true saying in the army, “hurry up and wait!”. This was winter and it was snowing and it was very cold. We were restricted to this camp and couldn't go anywhere or do anything. There was an oil heater in our barracks and we had to take turns getting out of our cots and light the fire and get it warm enough to get dressed. After a couple of weeks of this, they changed our clothing and equipment to Alaska type weather! Two weeks after that, we were issued warm weather clothing and equipment! Then, suddenly, we were back on a troop train and we thought, “here we go, off to embarkation in New York City”. How wrong we were!
The train was heading west, way west, we wound up in Los Angeles! We were put up in a camp somewhere in the California desert and given many overseas shots for many types of things. Did they make me sick? Yes they did! That night I spent many hours in the latrine, sitting on one toilet with diarrhea and my head on the other toilet vomiting till it seemed to never quit! We spent a few days there, not allowed any communication with anybody outside the camp. Hollywood celebrities would entertain us at times. Then finally we were trucked to the port of L.A. and put aboard a troop ship, the USS Robert E Callen. Later I found out there were five thousand of us, including red cross women and army nurses. It was obvious then that we were not headed for the ETO. The war in Europe was winding down and new troops were not needed there.
All the troops aboard were air force replacements. One group aboard was a paratroops outfit that had seen combat in Europe and they were a mean bunch of guys. I found out later that they hated the air force because when they were dropped into combat in Europe they were accidentally fired on by our fighter planes and many of their buddies were killed. I think that happened too often in combat and as I have said, war is hell!
The enlisted men aboard were bunked below decks with bunks stacked five high. The officers and women were above deck and I suppose just as crowded. The first night out of L.A. the ship sailed into a violent coastal storm that rocked and rolled us pretty hard. Now I have never been seasick or airsick, for some quirk of my body I suppose but 99 percent of the five thousand troops were. Picture a crowded troop ship with most of the passengers seasick and you have a hell of a mess! The heads (toilets) were full of vomit, all the decks were covered and if you slept in the bottom deck Lord help you! This seasickness went on all that night and the next morning the mess halls were serving baked beans with large chunks of pork in them! Just the smell of the pork and beans alone would set the seasick passengers to vomiting again! The rough seas had collapsed the mess hall tables and the navy had set buckets around the floor to vomit in. I can still see a poor sick GI on his knees trying to keep his head over the bucket that was sliding on the steel deck when the ship would heel over from the storm. Well the whole ship was a God awful mess until we sailed into calm seas. Then the navy crewmen broke out the fire hoses and hosed down the whole ship stem to stern. Things were quiet for a few days after that.
We would periodically have cleaning or mess hall duty. I can still remember the ships PA system saying, “now hear this, passenger sweepers, man your brooms, clean sweep down fore and aft! When not on duty, some of us would play pinochle in the shade, under the five inch gun turrets on the main deck. Sometimes the navy crew would have a “dry run” at their combat stations and make believe they were firing the guns at imaginary targets. We got so we would ignore them after a while and concentrate on our card games. Then one day, all of a sudden, they fired that five inch gun which was about ten feet above our heads! Talk about being scared! The whole ship vibrated from stem to stern! The sound was deafening, without earplugs to protect us. We damned near jumped overboard! The marines were looking down and laughing at us. We didn't see the humor of it at all. Then all the ships guns were firing including the twin fifty caliber's or pompom guns. The first gun had fired a target up in the air and the other guns were having target practice with it.
We soon picked up a British destroyer to escort us through dangerous waters. Danger from the Japanese of course. They still held that part of the pacific and were still a threat to shipping in that area. Our ship passed over the equator and we were all initiated and inducted into the King Neptune Society. Somewhere I still have the document. Our course took us to Melbourne Australia where we stopped for a night for supplies. The Australian authorities would not let us go ashore because they thought the American soldier was too wild and undisciplined. They were also afraid for their women! I think. While in port in Melbourne, the news came over the ships P A system that our president had passed away. Mr. Roosevelt was very popular with the troops and we were saddened by this news. Except one GI who was heard to remark that he was glad he died as he blamed FR for getting him into the army. This GI was promptly thrown overboard!
From Melbourne we sailed along the southern coast of Australia and our last sight of it was the night lights of the city of Perth. We then sailed north up into the Indian ocean and into the Bay of Bengal and after 31 days from L.A., docked at Calcutta India.
To an American, India is a very strange country. The first thing you notice is the smell. The smell is hard to describe. It smells old and decayed which you never forget, its so overpowering. The natives look very poor and of course their dress is much different than an American is used to. Of course some parts of the city have modern buildings and some of the people dress like westerners do. But most of what I saw was pretty old and run down. To put it in a GI way, most of the people of India were like the snake that didn't have a pit to hiss in. Our group was trucked to a British camp outside Calcutta, where we stayed for a week or so.
The first day at the British camp we were given a talk by an American Army Captain about the Indian nation. The first thing he said was that we would see things in India that were so strange that your people back home would not believe you when you told them what you have seen. He was right! So I wont tell you! ( Hey I'm Just kidding). Ill tell you later on. One of the other things he stressed was about the venereal disease in this country. The Captain told us that if anyone had any idea of being intimate with the native women here, he would strongly advice against it. He said the strain of venereal decease in India was incurable and so devastating to the human body that they would never be allowed to return to the United States! As a matter of fact, he said, you would be given a choice of staying in India or they would let you go into a room by yourself with a loaded Colt 45 with one bullet in it. That, of course, discouraged most of us from any attempts at extracurricular activity with the natives.
There was and probably still is a lot of Elephantitus disease in India. One of the first things I saw was this little man that worked at the camp who had one testicle about the size of a large watermelon. He offered to let us take a picture of him sitting on it for a few anna’s. (A few American cents). I personally thought it was too revolting to take a picture of it.
The second night there, I had to stand guard duty at a lonely army dock along the Ganges river. My tour was from 8 PM until 2 AM in the morning. There was absolutely no lights and the night was so dark, you couldn't see your hand in front of your face. That tour seemed long and scary. The strange animal sounds I heard and once in a while I could hear people on the dirt road along the river. How glad I was, when finally I saw the army jeep coming down the road with my relief man!
After about two weeks at Calcutta, they finally gave some of us orders to move on. About fifty of us air force replacements were moved by trucks to a train depot about 20 miles away. We were in open trucks and the dust and smell were so bad that we put on our gas masks so we could breath. When we got to the train station, we boarded a very old and narrow gauge train. The cars were tiny with hard wooden seats and the windows had no glass. The train was almost like one you would find in a theme park in the United States today. We headed north out of Calcutta and every time we got to a river we had to get off the train and go across by boat. Each man had a tiny native man to carry his baggage for them. One man would carry a heavily loaded barracks bag, B4 bag, and anything else the GI had, balanced on his head! Every time we boarded another train the gauge got narrower. The tracks were laid through thick jungle and every few miles we would stop in a small crude village. I guess the train stopped for wood fuel and water.
The natives from the villages would always crowd around the train and entertain us with magic tricks and trained animals. One trick that impressed me was a small boy, about 12, naked except for a breech cloth around his torso and he would have a lighted cigarette in his fingers. He held his arm straight out and you could see both ends of the cigarette. Putting his mouth to the inside of his elbow, he would take a deep breath, you could see the lit end of the cigarette glow as he sucked in his breath against his elbow and you could see the other end of the cigarette. Then he would blow the smoke out of his mouth! He did this several times, much to our amazement. We would give him and other children cigarettes and chocolate bars from our “C” rations. Then at one village, that looked like no westerner had ever been there, a small child in a clear and deep voice started singing ,“Oh Johnny oh Johnny how you can love”, which was a popular song in the states at that time. It was like the sign you would see at the most remote places, “Kilroy was here!” That song really went over big with the GI’s. So on this three day trip, we were pretty well entertained by the native Indians. Of course we ran out of cigarettes and chocolate bars too.
The end of the trip terminated at the base of the Himalayan mountains. It was here that we found out that we were going to fly over the “hump” to Kunming, China and join the fourteenth air force. About twenty of us at a time, were loaded on to C 47’s and we would circle around and around until we got almost to the planes ceiling, about twenty thousand feet. We had to wear oxygen masks and sit on the floor as these cargo planes had no seats at all. About two and a half hours later, we landed in Kunming, China, which is about sixty-five hundred feet altitude.
Kunming was the home of the “volunteer”
group called the Flying Tigers That group was secretly supported by FDR and the
United States until the declaration of war with Japan. After the declaration,
the group was inducted into the US Army Air Force and became the fourteenth air
force.
The leader of the volunteer group, Claire
Chenault, was named the commanding general. Thus, I became a flying tiger! My
uniforms had a flying tiger patch on the shoulder.
I was assigned to the 322nd troop carrying squadron, based in Lo Ping, about an hours flight from Kunming. Kunming became the main supply base. The supplies were brought over the “hump” Himalayan mountains, by the Air Transport Command, (ATC). At that point the US and the allies were “taking the war to the Japanese”. Our mission at Lo Ping was to drop Chinese and American paratroopers, US marines and supplies to the forward battle lines.
There was really no clear cut battle lines. Instead there would be pockets of Japanese and pockets of allies scattered all over China. On some of the missions, we had the P51 Mustang fighter planes to escort us over enemy territory. The supply missions usually lasted six to eight hours and you had to contact our troops on a prearranged frequency and, using a prearranged code name, they would set up panels and smoke canisters so we could see them. Then, making several passes, at about six hundred feet, we would drop our supplies and troops. It was pretty hard work for the whole crew as you had to work fast to drag the supplies to the door while the plane was jumping up and down in the low altitude turbulence. Then, at a signal from the pilot, quickly push the bundles out the door.
Some of the time we had to fly over Japanese held ground to make our passes and they would fire anti aircraft guns at us from railroad flat cars. When this happened, the P51 fighters would drop belly tanks filled with hundred octane gasoline with a detonator, on the train which would set the whole thing on fire. They would also strafe the train and the area with their fifty caliber machine guns. We appreciated this very much as it is not fun to have people shooting at you and trying their best to kill you while flying slow and at six hundred feet.
One drop mission I went on really gave me a scare. While pushing a bundle out the door, the rip cord got wrapped around my wrist. I jerked my hand away and the cord stripped off the stainless steel identification bracelet I was wearing. It had my name rank and serial number on it. Much to my surprise, a marine found it by one of the parachutes and managed to get it back to me a few weeks later.
We flew every other day, weather permitting and always with a different crew. We had C 47’s for awhile, then we started getting the new C46 Curtis Commandos. These new cargo planes carried twice as much payload as the C 47’s and twice as many paratroopers. They also were equipped with the RA 2800 Pratt and Whitney engines and had the four bladed Hamilton electric props that measured 16 feet tip to tip.
We operated off of short dirt runways that were always being worked on by the Chinese laborers. Some of these workers had a superstition that if they would run across the front of landing airplanes, so that the big propellers would just miss them, the props would cut off any evil spirits that they were cursed with. Sometimes their judgment was very poor with very bad and fatal results. This was a very nerve racking experience for landing pilots and fortunately it didn't happen too often.
The Chinese people are honest, hard working and very peacefully inclined. They are certainly not warlike people like the Japanese. So when you went on a drop mission with Chinese paratroopers they would jump out of the plane gladly, when it was a practice drop, but when we dropped them into combat they were very reluctant to jump. Some times we had to “help” them jump by pushing them out the doorway. We always flew with the door off as we were always on drop missions. These airplanes did not have seats so the paratroopers had to sit on the floor until time to jump.
On long missions the Chinese would amuse themselves with some kind of card game. They would play in silence for a long time and then with great shouting and laughter they would pick up one of the paratroopers and throw him out the door! I have never figured out whether he was the winner or the loser. At least he didn't have to jump into combat but I always wondered where he landed. This problem became so bad that General Chenault put out and order that one crewman had to stand guard at the door with a fire extinguisher during the entire flight. They were very afraid of the white “smoke” that came out of the extinguisher and the sound it made.
Only a few of our pilots were “checked out” on the C46, so when we went on a drop mission the pilot would teach the co-pilot how to fly the Curtis C46. After the drop, on the way back, one of the things he taught the co-pilot was normal stalls. This airplane would stall at about forty five or fifty miles per hour. On one trip we had stalled the plane a couple times, then on the third stall, for no apparent reason, the right wing stalled out first and we flipped over into a tight spin straight down! I looked through the windshield and all I could see was the ground spinning around about ten thousand feet below us. What a thrill that was! This airplane was not build to spin. Thank God we were empty and the pilot was able to pull it out of the spin without pulling the wings off. Needless to say we didn't do any more stalls that day. The Curtis C46 was a good airplane but there were a few instances of it stalling on landing and it had the reputation of being a “tricky” airplane.
One day after a long flight and difficult drop, we were returning to our base, the whole crew except the pilot fell asleep. The pilot woke me up and told me he was lost! He pointed out the windshield at a huge mountain sticking up out of a lower overcast and disappearing into a higher overcast above us. The pilot said that mountain was not on his chart and we had at least three more hours to fly before we could get home. The charts of the Chinese continent at that time were very inaccurate and couldn't be depended on. He told me to call a Mayday (emergency) message to HQ in Kunming to get a fix on our position. Otherwise, he said, we were in danger of running out of gas if we spent to much time trying to find our way home. So, I tuned up the big Collins transmitter and called Kunming. I got them immediately and after giving them a long count they gave us a course to fly. After about five minutes I gave them another long count and they corrected our course slightly. Three hours later, what a beautiful site, as we broke through the overcast and there was Kunming below us. It was reassuring to know that they could get a fix on you anywhere in China and guide you home.
When I was off duty, sometimes a buddy and I would hike around the country side and explore the areas around the airfield. All the level ground was planted with rice and flooded into paddy's. There were small villages scattered around with perhaps ten or so small houses and the steep hilly ground that was untillable was used as burial sites. Most of the coffins were left above ground. When flying over the country side, it appeared to be a vast irregular shaped checker board of rice patties. Some of the people of China had never seen a foreigner or an airplane. Old people would come down out of the hills and touch and marvel at the planes parked around the field. The old men wore long “goatees” and some of the women, young and old had their feet bound. Probably from birth as they looked like they walked on stilts. I found out that it was an old custom to do this, I guess they didn't like their women to have feet.
One day, the countryside was hit by a devastating Cholera epidemic. Every morning you could see long lines of mourners carrying their dead in crude wooden coffins to bury at the cemeteries. Now I was grateful for the shots we received before going overseas even though they made me so sick. We also had to use Atabrine tablets in our drinking water to prevent diseases. Because of my stay in China, I have never been able to donate blood to the Red Cross. They wont take a chance on anyone who has been exposed to Malaria.
The food we had in China was terrible! Breakfast was the only meal we could eat because they seemed to have a good quantity of eggs. Lunch and dinner consisted of Buffalo meat that was so tough you could absolutely not cut it, let alone chew it. There was lots of cabbage but we wouldn't eat that because they got the fertilizer out of our latrines every morning. So, we ate a lot of the “C” rations. There were a lot of customs in China that I didn't like. For instance, if you helped a sick or wounded person, then you became responsible for that person the rest of his or her life. If a person was caught stealing, no matter how petty, that persons hand or hands, depending on what he stole, were chopped off. Their system of justice was very swift and harsh compared with ours. Which system is best is debatable, as there are very few crimes in China, compared to the US. Our system of being permissive with criminals doesn't seem to work. All it really does is keep lawyers rich. Maybe a little barbaric justice is what we need in this country. Also, the Chinese have “family values” in that whole generations live together and take care of one another with respect and love. The Chinese people that I came in contact with had very little material things but very seldom did I see an unhappy one. Especially the children, they were always happy and eager to get to know an American.
It was about this time that I received a “Dear John” from Bonnie. It seems she had met a fellow who was 4f (deferred from the draft because a physical disability), whom she thought she was in love with and wanted a divorce so she could marry him. Although Bonnie and I wrote to one another quite often, I don't think we really cared that much for each other. It didn't bother me that she wanted a divorce and in fact I was glad I could change my insurance to my mother. I had always had a sort of guilty conscience about that anyway. I often dreamed of getting back to the states and getting my own apartment and having a good time without any family responsibilities. By this time I was about 24 years old and looked at things differently than when we were married. So I wrote Bonnie to go ahead with the divorce and when I received the papers I had my status changed in my military personal file. I knew I didn't have to marry Bonnie when I did but in those days it was the right thing to do. I don't have any regrets about it and we did have a lot of happy times together. Flying these missions was exciting and that is all I could worry about at that time.
Our squadron made up of about 300 officers and enlisted men. There was not much military discipline in fact we all ate in the same mess hall and although we had separate four man tents we had party's together. In fact the commanding officer was a major who in civilian life was an insurance salesman. He really liked to drink and because liquor was very scarce he was always trying to make whiskey out of a mixture of Chinese rice wine, de-icing alcohol and God knows what else. His attempts were so bad that we called his efforts Jing bow juice. Of course it always had a hell of a kick! In fact, anyone who was scheduled to fly the next day, was restricted from his Jing bow parties. (Jing Bow was the Chinese name for an air raid).
We had a GI paper called the Stars and Stripes that we got about once a month. It had all the news about how the war was going or at least as much as the Army wanted you to know. We knew the Japs were being pushed farther and farther up the Pacific and closer and closer to Japan. The war in Europe was over and my brother Sam had been liberated and was back in the states. That was ironic as he was the reason I started this sojourn and here he was home and I was on the other side of the world. In fact I received news that he and his pretty girl Betty had gotten married!
One day, we started hearing rumors that a terrible bomb had been dropped on Japan and rumors were going around that the Japanese surrender was near! Then the news was official, the Japanese had unconditionally surrendered!! There was much rejoicing in our camp, except I noticed that the Chinese workers were not too happy about it. Some G I’s said that they worried about losing their jobs with the army and some said that they were making money on the black market and selling stolen property to the Japanese, which of course would end. Personally, I have great respect for the Chinese people and I know that they are inherently honest. If there was a black market, I am sure that it was done by a few bad guys which every country has.
We soon leaned that although the war was over it didn't mean we were on the way home. There were many things we had to do first. All the squadrons like ours were assigned to liberate all of China from the Japanese. We started flying Chinese troops to all the cities held by the Japs. Our squadrons first order was to fly the Chinese 4th and 5th army's to liberate Pieping. Today it is called Beijing which is the capitol of China. Part of our group was sent up to Manchuria to free General Wainrights men held captive there by the Japs. Believe me those men were in every bit as bad shape as the Jewish prisoners held by the Germans. They were skin and bones, maimed, and very sick. They looked just like the pictures we saw of the Jews in the German death camps.
This is one of the Japanese atrocities that I can never forget The Bible speaks of mans inhumanity to man but I cannot understand how it can be. These things can never be forgiven by those who lived though it.
One of the missions we had to accomplish was to fly displaced Catholic personal back to their home churches. China at the time of the war had many French Catholic people on lifetime missions. They volunteered to spend their lifetime in China to convert as many Chinese as possible to the Catholic religion. Of course, I am not Catholic but we admired these people very much. There fearless dedication to there missions and there complete faith in their religion was unsurpassed. They had churches and Catholic schools all over China. Evidently, they were imprisoned by the Japanese and held in Pieping during the war.
One day, after flying some Chinese troops into the capitol our crew was assigned to fly a group of about eight Catholic Nuns back to a small town somewhere in the interior. I cant remember the name of the town but it had not been liberated from the Japs as yet. We flew west out of Peiping for about 4 or 5 hours until we reached this town. It had a small Japanese fighter strip which we were to land our C46. The pilot said it looked pretty small but he thought he could get in all right. We made a few passes at the dirt strip and finally landed without running out of runway. Taxiing up to the parking ramp we saw right away that the field was still in the control of the Japanese. The soldiers were patrolling with their rifles and all the personnel were fully armed. We were the first allied troops to arrive here since the surrender! To put it mildly, the situation was very tense!
Our young pilot, about 21, of course was the ranking officer, 2nd Lieutenant. True to the fearlessness of youth, he took immediate command of the situation. He had us all get out of the airplane and we faced the Japanese soldiers. All we had as arms were our own Colt 45 pistols. The pilot walked up to a Japanese officer and made him understand by motions that we had to have a truck to take the Nuns and their baggage into the town which was about 12 miles away. He showed us to a Japanese army truck and the pilot tried to start it up. Failing to understand how to start it, he made a Japanese soldier start it for him. With the Japanese soldiers watching we loaded the truck. The pilot and co-pilot got in front and I and the navigator, engineer and the Nuns got into the back.
It was a flat bed truck with a stake body. With the young pilot driving, we started down the narrow dirt road towards town. About 2 miles from the airport we drove around a sharp curve and came face to face with a Japanese armored column! This consisted of tanks, half tracks, personnel carriers etc. and extended as far down the road as you could see. All units were armed, the machine guns had belts of ammunition feeding into them and all the men had loaded rifles and side arms.
The Japanese commander was in the turret, of the lead tank, and gazed down on us with a stoic but very fierce expression on his face. I can still see that face today as if it had happened yesterday. I was standing up in the truck looking out over the cab and directly into that face. What seemed like hours but was probably less than a minute we stared at each other. The crew and I all had on our flying jackets which had the American and Chinese flags sewed onto the back. I am sure that the Japanese commander recognized us as American soldiers.
Finally our fearless young pilot jumped out of the truck and motioning with his arms he yelled to get those G D units off the road and let us pass by. Again it seemed like hours but was probably less than a minute the commander stared down at the pilot, then turning around and yelling back at the column he motioned them to get off the road and let us pass. As we passed by this armored column the Jap soldiers stared at us and held there guns at ready. What an experience! I am sure my hair was standing on end! It could have easily ended in a different manner and become just another “incident” in the war. Anyway we finally got to the town and we were greeted like heroes by the Chinese people.
They crowded around our truck and clapped their hands. The town was pretty good size and still full of Japanese soldiers and they were still armed. I saw our young pilot take a German type pistol away from a Japanese officer who did not resist in any way. They must have had orders not to do any hostile acts in fact when you came face to face with one, he would promptly turn his back to us. I think it was a custom in order to save “face” when they realized that they had lost the war. I only assume this as the Japanese thinking was not anything a westerner could comprehend. Some people will blame the Japanese behavior on Admiral Perry for opening up Japan to the western world. I, personally, do not buy this. I think the political and military leaders were completely to blame for the savage mentality of the Japanese soldiers.
After getting the Nuns back to their church and settling them in, we were visited by some of the town leaders. We didn't stay long as we were worried about our airplane at the Japanese field. Besides we didn't really trust the Chinese political leaders as they very well might have been Japanese collaborators. Also we had a communication problem as none of them spoke English. So we quickly drove back to the airfield and were thankful that we didn't run into any more enemy tanks on the way back.
Our airplane appeared to be untouched and after a thorough inspection taxied out for take off. The dirt strip was so short that the pilot got as far back on the runway as possible, locked the breaks, gave the engines full throttles, and then released the breaks and with fingers crossed we became air borne just as we reached the end of the strip. Actually he just pulled up the wheels and hoped for the best!
Shortly after this experience, our squadron was moved to a liberated Japanese fighter base at Hangkow on the Yangtze river about four hundred miles inland from Shanghai. We used a huge metal hanger for our barracks, there must have been at least one hundred of us using it for our sleeping quarters. We still had a few missions to fly but we were not as busy as before. At this point, some of our pilots were reporting being fired on from the ground during some of their missions. We heard that the Chinese communists were fighting the Chang Kai-Shek nationalist government and they were firing on us, as we were allies of the Generalmisimo. There may have been casualties but I never heard of one of our planes being hit. It got so bad that some of our officers wrote to congressmen to protest the communist aggression.
When we had time on our hands a buddy of mine and I would explore the city. Hangkow is a fairly large city and we could see that it had been heavily damaged by our bombers. I think, although we ruined the city, the Chinese didn't hold it against us. Every where we went we were greeted by friendly Chinese people. Especially the children. There was always a cluster of young Chinese kids around us chattering happily away. One day, we came across a French Catholic primary school. We walked into the play ground and was greeted by a church member who introduced himself as Brother Charles. He spoke good English and invited us into the building. It was a brick building which was old but very clean and had apparently not suffered any damage from the bombing. He showed us some of the classrooms which were a lot like our K to 6 schools. The kids seemed happy and applauded us when we appeared. Chinese kids were always happy and laughing with us. It was a pleasure to be around them after the years of mostly somber war life.
Brother Charles showed us into a room that looked like a conference room. It had a large hardwood table with a couple dozen chairs around it. Brother Charles excused himself for a few minutes and returned with the priest whom he introduced as Father Florence. The Father also gave us a very friendly greeting and asked us to sit down and visit for a while. Before we knew it, he quickly produced a bottle of cognac and some miniature shot glasses. We sat there for hours discussing all topics. The war of course and things like politics and national philosophies. Every time my friend and I emptied our glass, Brother Charles would fill it up. He and Father Florence were drinking glass for glass with us. I don't know when I have enjoyed a conversation more than I did that day! Of course my friend and I were getting a little tipsy which made the visit that much more enjoyable. Our two Catholic friends seemed to be enjoying themselves too. Before we knew it we began to notice how dark it was getting. Since we had a curfew at the airfield, we had to make a hasty departure in order not to be declared AWOL. It was about a mile to our base and we were about halfway there when we heard Brother Charles running after us. I had inadvertently left my overseas cap in the school and he was returning it to me. I apologized for his trouble and told him I had several caps at the barracks. His words were, “Oh you rich Americans! In the French army, you could be shot if you lost your cap”
Brother Charles had told us that toward the end of the war, when the air raid alarm would sound, the Japanese fighters would take off and fly away from Hangkow as they could not compete with the fire power of our B 25’s. You could tell from the damaged city how devastating the bombing had been. We were happy that the French Catholic school had not been damaged. I often wondered what happened to Brother Charles and Father Florence. I tried to write to them after I got to the states but the Communists had taken over and I got no reply.
About three hundred feet behind our hanger barracks was a Japanese ammunition dump. Stored there was a great quantity of bombs, large and small, grenades and machine gun bullets. At one time or another, we all inspected this building out of curiosity to see enemy ammo. One morning while most of us had showered and were dressing someone went into the ammo dump and probably inadvertently, set off a timing fuse on an aerial bomb. I was sitting on my bunk after a shower and shave, dressing, when the ammo dump blew up. I guess it was instinct or a natural reaction but I threw myself flat on the cement floor. The back of the metal hanger came apart and I could see unexploded bombs and debris sliding along the floor all over the hanger.
As if on a signal everyone in the hanger jumped up and hit the floor running! We got the hell out of there fast! Like a miracle, none of the bombs in the hanger exploded. One of the older guys, we called him Rip, ( he was almost forty ), was in the shower and was so scared that he ran stark naked all the way across the field. He said it took him about two seconds to get there but ten minutes to get back as he was barefooted. There were about fourteen men killed by the explosion. Two men were passing by in a jeep when it blew and no trace of them were ever found. What a tragedy since war hostilities had ceased.
Our stay at Hangkow lasted about two or three months. We had completed our missions and got the word that we were to be shipped home! General Chenault issued an announcement to the effect that we could volunteer to join the Chinese National Air force. He was deeply involved in the Chinese welfare and had married a daughter of Chiang Kai Shek . In his announcement, he promised double our regular pay. The Chinese National Army's were gearing up to the fight the communist who were bent on taking over all of China when the allies left the country. None of us G I’s were very enthusiastic about joining the Chinese air force as we knew that the Chinese pilots were not very proficient in flying the airplanes. Besides this, we did not know anything about Chinese politics and could only think about finally getting back home. We had just finished a war and did not care to get involved in another one. I don't know how many volunteered but perhaps if we had known more about the politics, more of us would have been concerned. Evidently, the communists were the superior force and drove the Nationalists to the Island of Formosa, now know as Taiwan.
Before we left Hangkow, we had to turn in all our clothes and equipment that was not needed for our trip back to the states. They made us turn in our flying gear including our leather flying jackets, hack watches, colt pistols, carbine rifles among many other things. All of this was dumped into a pile in an open field and burned! Chinese people watched in consternation as all this nice warm clothing went up in smoke.
Most of our airplanes were destroyed on the ground. I saw B 25s cut in two just behind the trailing edge of there wings. I suppose there were political reasons for this but I could not understand the waste. The army also lied to us when they said that our baggage would be inspected when we got to the states. We could have kept a lot of those expensive things. To this day I regret not keeping my 45 and the neat carbine rifle. Also the leather flying jacket that you can't buy today.
General Chenault made a last pitch to get us to volunteer into the Chinese Air Force. I don't think he had many takers as we all wanted to get home. Finally we were flown into Shanghai on the east coast of China. We were billeted in a large building close to downtown Shanghai. While waiting for transportation home, we made many trips into Shanghai along Bubbling Well road, the main street. We would shop for souvenirs in the stores and quickly learned that you do not pay the first price asked for on an item you wanted to buy. The Chinese merchants did not respect you unless you got into a heated bargaining argument with them. Usually you would wind up paying about half the price originally asked for. Then you and the merchants would part great friends. One trick we learned was that if you could be the first customer on a Monday morning, you could get it at almost any price as they believed it was bad luck if they didn't make the first sale on Mondays.
The night clubs in that city were fantastic and the entertainment was great. Many a night, I was carried back to the barracks, unable to navigate after drinking Japanese beer! The Japs had made the beer bottle labels exactly like American beer manufacturers. I drank what they called Lucky Lager with the big red X on it. Their beer must have had as much alcohol content as whiskey.
We enjoyed this life for about three or four weeks and finally boarded a baby aircraft carrier called the USS Maken Island. It was named after one of the costly island battles in the Pacific, on the way to beating the Japs all the way up to their home island. What a great feeling to be aboard an American naval ship. It was so neat and clean and “shipshape”. Finally we got to eat stateside food! They had fresh milk, fresh baked bread, fresh red meat, real butter and fresh vegetables! We drove the cooks crazy as we could eat a whole loaf of bread apiece at each meal. The crew of the ship looked like kids to us as the average age seemed to be about eighteen or nineteen to us. They treated us with respect as they looked on us as old “combat veterans”. We found out that they were all new recruits as all the “older men” had long since been drafted. As a matter of fact some of our navigators had to help them out running the LORAN navigation equipment so we could find our way back to the states. A few days out one night, we passed by the coast of Japan.
Looking at our enemy country, I was glad the barbarous Japs were finally under the control of the American forces. I was very proud to be a part of the military might that although started out at Peal Harbor with practically nothing had at last driven the greedy Japs back to there Islands in disgrace.
It is my fond hope today, that the American people can some day pull together like they did then to achieve peace and economic tranquillity for all their people without some third rate countries attack to wake them up. We must remember Peal Harbor for what it was and always be fully prepared to meet any aggressor in the world and be able to withstand their attack without the terrible war the Japs started. As I said before, war is Hell! For those of you reading this that have not experienced first hand the horror of war please believe me you do not want to! It is not “romantic”, it is not glamorous, it is not even adventurous, it is like I and most people who experienced it say, it is Hell! I hope you will excuse my “editorializing” but I just cant stress this point enough.
Originally we were scheduled to dock in
L.A. but because of the millions of troops returning to the states, we were
diverted to San Francisco and then a few days later to Seattle. We had a great
Christmas dinner at sea. The menu had all the trimmings including fresh baked
turkey and even an after dinner cigar! After being on wartime rations for
almost four years believe me I really did enjoy that dinner aboard the USS Maken
Island. About ten days later we finally docked in the Navy port at Bremerton
Washington near Seattle. We stayed aboard for a couple of days and then were
trucked to Fort Lewis north of Seattle. We were allowed to visit Seattle for
about five days and it was good to be back in an American city again. Then we
were put back on a passenger ship ( I don't remember the name) and sailed to San
Francisco. While there, I was able to visit Cliff and Ester and their two sons
Sunny (Cliff Jr.) and Bobby, in Vallejo, for a few days. They acted glad to see
me again. They owned and operated the Vallejo Boat Center on the Napa river,
which looked like a lot of fun for them. I guess I was there for one or two
days and then, back on the ship and we sailed to L.A., finally. At this time
Mom and Dad were living in an unfinished house in Alhambra. Dad was always
building houses and he built this one and moved in before it was finished.
After a few days I reported to Fort Mac
Arthur California and after 3 years, 3 months and 11 days, S/Sgt. Harry L Hewitt
serial Number 191 29 390 was honorably discharged from the United States Army on
January 17, 1946.
It was really a miracle that although Sam had been a POW in Germany, Fred was in England, Jim, a pilot of the B29 bomber ready to go overseas and I had been in China, that we all got home safely with a whole body and good health. When you consider all the men killed or maimed all over the world and four of us in one family got out safely, we were really lucky. Except of course the terrible experience that Sam had as a POW in Germany. The war was an era that, although, I hope the country never has to go through it again, it was also an era that was remarkable in that the country was so united and had a patriotic spirit that was unbelievable....."
Harry L Hewitt
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