FP-1943-1944.DOC

19th BG Moves from Pocatello ID to Pyote TX

Pocatello ID: 19th BG personnel returning from the Far Pacific, were sent to Pocatello, Idaho and from there to well earned leave with family and friend. Upon return most were sent to Pyote, TX for the purpose of preparing new crews for pending B-29 operations. B-29 bases were still being constructed, and B-29s were slow coming off the production lines in sufficient number. Many 19th personnel were sent to various places to fill urgently needed personnel assignments, some to the European Theater and many to bases within the US. What happened to most of original 19th personnel from this time on is unknown. What is known is that many became key players in B-29 operations. The reader will recognize names from the first year in the Far Pacific as now being commanders of squadrons, groups & wings being formed to return to the Pacific.

Pyote TX: At Pyote many of the original 19th personnel took on the task of telling what happened by writing squadron histories, updating missions diary's and composing a personnel roster. These documents, those available, are stored on the accompanying CD.

The 19^th BG Operations Diary was been used to describe operational events from Dec 8, 1941 to mid Mar 1942, when the log was discontinued.

A Roster of 19^th BG personnel in the Far Pacific was also constructed. I used this listing, other surviving lists plus rosters created in Australia in April 1942 to make the composite list contained on the accompanying CD. Persons falling back from Java plus new arrivals in Australia were assigned to the reconstructed 19^th BG. This is a best effort listing – Clark Field records were buried, then dug up and destroyed by the Japanese. It’s unknown if any personnel records had been taken to Australia in Dec 1941, it is known that all pay records had to be reconstructed by memory in late March-April 1942 for those who fell back.

Many of the original 19th had their papers sent to the Museum at Pyote TX, for visitors to see and browse.

Pyote Awards

Hardison at center looking up at 93^rd Sqd Suzy flown back from Australia to train new crews

That may be Connally being pinned at lower left and center lower right. Connally had flown one of the original B-17s to Clark Field, would be sent to Europe, then head the ___ B-29 BG on Tinian before being shot down over Japan.

Army & Navy; The Draft; Fathers Next from Time Feb 22 1943

General George 'Marshall buttoned himself into his four‑starred overcoat and went to Capitol Hill. He had to go and explain the Army's plan to expand to 8,200,000 officers and men by 1943's end. Honest, persuasive George Marshall, who enjoys as much Congressional confidence as any other U.S. military figure, apparently made a good job of it. After a two‑hour secret session, members of the Senate and House Military Affairs Committees told newsmen that many a doubter of the Army's program was now a convert.

George Marshall's testimony was deeply secret. Perhaps his program was in preparation for military reverses which laymen cannot foresee. Perhaps it was insurance against the possibility that a victorious Russia might dominate tile entire continent of Europe. Perhaps the expansion, unquestionably approved by Franklin Roosevelt, might have been planned to make U.S. weight felt at the peace table.

Hidden Cause, Open Effect. For the real reasons, the U.S. public might have to wait months. But to learn its effects on the U.S. home, it had to wait only one day. Next afternoon Major General Lewis B. Hershey laid it on the table before the House Committee:

Most of the men inducted into the armed forces in the next two or three months, said. Draft Director Hershey , will be married men with children. Reason: "There will be nobody left to induct."

Bottom of the Barrel. The U.S. was finally scraping the bottom of its manpower barrel. Planning to induct about 400,000 men a month, it has already found that the leavings are thin indeed. General Hershey reported that rejections (mainly for physical and occupational reasons) already run from 35 to 40 %, are expected to increase. By the end of the year only 3,000,000 fit men in the 18 - 37 age bracket will be left in civilian life.

To stay a civilian, a male will have to justify his status by holding a job essential to the prosecution of the war. The draft director laid down the principle that will govern from now on: "I believe it will be the inevitable tendency of manpower procurement ... to give more weight to what a man is doing than to dependency."

Already tile U.S. had tasted, if only lightly, the blood, sweat, toil and tears of war. But the taste would become sharper as the manpower program forced men to work or fight, regardless of family ties.

Already, the New York Herald Tribune found, four New York City draft boards had all but exhausted their supply of childless married men. Seven boards had just begun to draft the married. Nineteen expected to begin late this month or in March. Soon, throughout tile nation, the fathers of children would be taken from their jobs and sent to war.

Their Last Parade

The cold prairie winds sent shivers down their spines and swirled the dust of west Texas in grey clouds. But it was not dust that misted the eyes of tile famed 19th Bombardment Group. The old outfit was on its last parade.

Sgt Gradle, Gen Olds & Standard

The 19^th will scatter it’s seasoned seeds in fertile ground

The 19th had fought a costly war continuously from the bombing of Pearl Harbor and Manila (TIME, Dec. 7) until it was relieved in Australia last fall. It had lost 65% of its original strength in battles, crashes and prison camps. Now it was being broken up. Now its battle‑seasoned officers and men would be scattered, like so many tough & tested seeds, in the fertile ground of other heavy bombardment crews, squadrons and groups.

The 19th is the most decorated outfit in the U.S. Army. At its last parade Major General Robert Olds, commander of the Second Air Force, added a decoration to every man of the Group: a blue bar framed in a gold laurel band which each member is entitled to wear because the Group has been cited at least twice.

Thus Lieut. Colonel Felix Hardison, 31 year‑old pilot of the Suzy‑Q, won his ninth decoration. Staff Sergeant Kenneth Gracile of St. Louis, 22‑year‑old radioman on the plane that flew MacArthur out of the Philippines, received his eighth award, became the U.S.'s most decorated enlisted hero (he already wore the D.F.C. with oak leaf cluster, the silver star with two oak, leaf clusters, the Purple Heart with one). Sergeant Gradle bad flown on 60 missions, more than any other man in the 19th, and shot down six Zeros‑more than enough to call himself an ace if he were a pursuit pilot. He joined the Air Corps six months after he graduated from high school, because jobs were hard to find.

During the decoration ceremony many men of the 19th discovered for the first time that the Group had a standard. It was uncovered in a vault at Tucson, Ariz., flown to Pyote, where Olds pinned the four silken streamers on it. No other outfit in the U.S. Army could boast four World War II citations.

Before they said their farewells, the 19^th’s men danced in the officers' mess with wives and girls, dined on "snaggle-tooth Texas steer whose rump is stamped ‘Suzy‑Q, approved,' " and toasted each other at the new Pyote Officers' Club. On the stroke of midnight, an officer stepped to the microphone. asked for a moment of silence "as a small tribute to those we left over there" ‑ to men like Captain Harl Pease, Lieut. Colonel Austin Straubel, Major Dean ("Pinky") Hoevet, Master Sergeant Louis ("Soup") Silva, Lieut. R. B. Burleson and Captain Colin Kelly. The widows of many men of the 19th were present.

Promotions and Dispersions. Last week the 19th Group got its orders. A few would remain at Pyote as the nucleus of a new 19th under command of Major Elbert (“Butch") Helton, 27‑year‑old Texan who led one of its old squadrons for a year. At least a record dozen pilots of the 19th would get commands of other groups stationed from Kansas to California.

First full colonel among the 19th's pilots is 29‑year‑old Richard Carmichael, the group's commander until it was relieved, now a bombardment officer on Lieut. General ("hap") Arnold's staff. A sure bet to get a colonel's eagles was Felix Hardison, assigned as operations officer of General Olds's Second Air Force Bomber Command. Lieut. Colonel Ted Faulkner, already assigned to a Kansas air base, and Lieut. Colonel James Connally, assigned to a bombardment tactics school in Florida, were also in line for higher rank. 'Many enlisted men were being commissioned. The 19th's influence on U.S. air power was already being felt.

Significance. As group commanders the 19th's graduates may be able to build . . . . . (end of available article)

Returned crews use war weary planes to make movies about times passed

New personnel arrive and train before going to new B-29 bases. Some 19^th BG stay to train new arrivals, some move on to fill leadership positions in the rapidly expanding Air Force.

Gen Kenney was reluctant to give up flyable B-17s and experienced crews. But in the big picture it made sense. New aircraft were arriving in the Far Pacific to replace early model war weary birds. New personnel were arriving to replace the senior crews among the first sent to blunt Japanese ambitions. The tide had been stopped, and they were desperately needed to form new organizations from new recruits.

Many would pass through Pyote to new bases before proceeding overseas in new B-29s.

The B-29 Goes into Production, Genesis of the Superfortress by E. Phillips

Historians pay homage to the many combat soldiers, sailors and airmen who took part in World War II. But on America's home front, armies of forgotten workers were engaged in a different and seemingly endless struggle to produce vital war materiel. Those men and women faced a daily demanding job that was of incalculable importance to the Allied cause, even though their Herculean efforts rarely made the headlines.

One of the most crucial confrontations of the war centered on the massive buildup of personnel and facilities at Boeing's sprawling airplane factory in Wichita, Kan. On what had been virgin prairie in the heartland of the United States, a 'battle" of titanic proportions was fought in 1943-44, under some of the most adverse conditions, to produce, modify and deliver the Boeing B-29 Superfortress to the U.S. Army Air Forces (USAAF). (Work on the Wichita plant was begun about 1940 using depression era WPA, PWA & CCC public works funds due to Congress reluctance to fund weapons production. Europe was in desperate need of aircraft and were funding plants to build them. The US would need a new plant to build the pending long range bomber then in early design phase. DL)

Strategic bombardment was the "Holy Grail" of General Henry H. "Hap" Arnold, who had become chief of the prewar U.S. Army Air Corps (USAAC) in September 1938. But to achieve it, he needed a more powerful and capable aircraft than the venerable Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress. He needed an advanced, four-engine heavy bomber, one with more range, more bomb-load and more speed than any previous design.

Arnold and his band of believers in the theory of strategic bombardment had gained official approval in December 1939 to pursue development of a new bomber capable of flying nearly 400 mph, with a range of more than 5,300 miles, while carrying a 1-ton bomb-load for at least half that distance. Arnold formed a committee to detail every requirement the bomber must meet. In January 1940, the Air Corps issued proposals to Boeing, Douglas, Consolidated and Lockheed.

The response was less than impressive. Lockheed submitted the XB-30, a bomber version of its Constellation then under development, and Douglas' XB-31 was an outgrowth of the DC-4 transport design. Consolidated proposed the XB-32 (which eventually was built in limited numbers as a precaution in case the B-29 program was terminated). As for Boeing, it originally planned to offer a modified version of the gigantic XB-15. That plan was soon shelved in favor of the Model 307 Stratoliner passenger aircraft, which in turn was replaced by the Model 341, which formed the basis for the mighty B-29.

Boeing's revised design, known as the Model 345, was selected by the Air Corps and given the designation XB-29. Its wing featured a laminar-flow airfoil for speed but was equipped with large, Fowler-type trailing edge flaps to reduce stall and landing speeds to acceptable levels. For power, Boeing engineers chose the relatively new and unproven R-3350 engine developed in 1939 by the Wright Aeronautical Corporation. Developing 2,200 hp, the 18-cylinder, air-cooled, static radial power plant would generate the most serious technical challenge of the entire B-29 program. The engine was initially fitted with three-blade Hamilton Standard propellers, but production aircraft would feature four-blade units.

Boeing began the awesome task of designing and building the B-29 under tremendous pressure to start production as soon as possible. Adolf Hitler already had invaded Poland and ignited World War II, and the intensity of Japan's saber rattling increased as its relations with the United States continued to deteriorate. Against this backdrop of tension, in May 1940 President Franklin D. Roosevelt called on the nation to produce 50,000 airplanes. This number was needed not only to help Britain and France in their fight against Nazi Germany but also to help prepare for possible American involvement in the war on the Allied side.

The first flight of an XB-29 was still one year away when, in September 1941, Boeing received orders for 250 B-29s to be built in a new factory complex in Wichita. In addition to designing the Superfortress, Boeing now had to design and build a sprawling facility and hire thousands of laborers to work within its walls. With the rapid expansion of the entire U.S. industrial base after 1940, it was becoming increasingly difficult for aircraft companies to find workers, especially those with the skills needed to construct modern combat airplanes.

General Arnold and his staff had chosen Wichita as a primary B-29 production facility chiefly because they wanted the bomber built at a site far inland from either coast, thereby affording some level of protection against possible German or Japanese bombing raids. In mid-May 1941, J. Earl Schaefer, a Boeing vice president and general manager of the company's Wichita division, was stunned to receive an official War Department directive instructing him to procure jigs, dies, fixtures and all critical materials essential to production of the B-29 at Wichita. In addition, the directive stated that initial delivery to the U.S. Army Air Forces was scheduled for February 1, 1943. (The date was later changed to June, but the first B-29 did not leave Wichita until July of that year.)

The directive caught Schaefer and the Boeing-Wichita facility totally unprepared to build an airplane such as the Superfortress. At the time, Boeing-Wichita's experience in aircraft production centered chiefly on the Boeing PT-13 and N2S-series primary trainer for the Air Corps and U.S. Navy, respectively, along with construction of control surfaces and outer wing panels for the B-17. These were being built in relatively small buildings. Despite these acute disadvantages, Schaefer and his troops at Boeing-Wichita were being called upon to produce a large, highly sophisticated bomber whose design detail was almost constantly changing, using inexperienced people working in a phantom factory with tools that did not exist. Fortunately, Schaefer had a dedicated corps of competent workers and managers who were up to the task of building the B-29s Arnold so desperately needed. The "Battle of Kansas" was about to begin.

With no time to waste, on June 24, 1941, the Austin Company of Cleveland, Ohio, broke ground on 180 acres for the huge production and assembly complex designated as Boeing-Wichita's Plant 11. It was so large that the existing buildings were easily encapsulated within it and disappeared from sight. After the December 7, 1941, Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, the Austin Company and Boeing workers doubled their efforts to complete the facility and prepare to build the B-29.

Construction of the factory progressed, and initial deliveries of major tooling began to arrive in November. These were hastily installed and fabrication of components began, even while the building was still under construction. Many of the Austin Company's men were surprised to see jigs and fixtures being set in areas that had only recently been completed. But before mass production and assembly operations could begin in earnest, the factory needed light, power, heat and water to bring it to life.

The first 10 months of 1942 were spent setting up the assembly line. Boeing workers were able to expedite the production process by building some tooling instead of waiting for it to be shipped from Seattle. In January 1943, the complex was finished, but installation of the nearly 130,000 pieces of tooling was not completed until December 1944. Tooling for the B-29 cost about $47.8 million. Total floor space of the Plant II facility exceeded 2.8 million square feet, and a 1.6-million-square-foot ramp area adjacent to the factory was included as part of the project.

Back in Seattle, the first XB-29 had flown on September 21, 1942, under the command of Boeing test pilot Eddie Allen. But before the airplane flew that day, Boeing already had received orders for a staggering 1,600 bombers. Although the Superfortress had flown, engine problems marred the flight testing and cast a dark shadow of doubt over the B-29 program. Engine cooling trouble soon became a major concern when, in only two weeks, the cylinders of three R-3350s overheated and failed. In December 1942 a fire broke out in the No. 4 engine of the first YB-29 during a test flight. After activating the fire bottles, Allen managed to get the airplane back on the ground before the fire spread.

Boeing's sprawling Plant II facility in Wichita, Kan., which built 1,664 B-29s between July 1943 and October 1945.

A two-month lull in flying commenced while the prototype bomber was repaired and modified. On February 18,1943, Allen flew the second XB-29. While he was flying at 5,000 feet, a fire erupted in the No. 1 engine, and it was shut down and the propeller feathered. Unfortunately, the fire continued to burn, fed by hot, melting magnesium in the crankcase and accessory section. Allen began a descent to return to Boeing field, but the flames had spread to the left wing, which was burning furiously as the stricken airplane flew low over Seattle's business district.

Unable to make the airport, Allen and his co-pilot fought to control the crippled XB-29, but it rolled sharply to the left and crashed into the fifth story of an industrial building. Allen and his entire flight-test crew died, as did 20 other people in the building. An investigation team blamed the crash on the engine's intake and exhaust valves, which had overheated and separated from their stems, producing an engine fire that spread to the wing and weakened the main spar. Despite the tragic setback and a special investigation that was led bv Senator Harry S. Truman, Boeing and Arnold kept the B-29 program moving forward.

As if the nearly round-the-clock struggle to build the Superfortress was not enough, in June 1942 B/Gen Kenneth B. Wolfe of Materiel Command, who would later be chosen to head the powerful Twentieth Air Force equipped with B-29s, called Schaefer in Wichita and made an astounding pronouncement. The Boeing-Wichita division was now in the "glider business." As part of Allied preparations to invade Hitler's Fortress Europe in 1944, the military needed 750 Waco CG-4-series gliders to train pilots and troops for the epic invasion. "OK. We'll do anything we can, K.B. Anything to win the war," was Schaefer's succinct reply. The deadline for delivery of all the CG-4s was October 1, 1942.

Boeing-Wichita was not alone in its crusade to produce the gliders in a mere five months. Across town at the Beech Aircraft Corp. and the nearby Cessna Aircraft Co., those two smaller but extremely active manufacturers were enlisted to build the gliders' airframes while Boeing was assigned the task of final assembly. Subassemblies began to pour in from the Beech and Cessna factories and their subcontractors, while Boeing-Wichita workers assembled the un-powered aircraft virtually alongside the burgeoning B-29 assembly lines. The gliders were delivered on schedule.

B-29 center sections under construction in Plant II. The first 10 months of 1942 were spent setting up the assembly line.

At the peak of production, 35,000workers, 40 percent whom were women, were completing 4.2 bombers per day.

A primary reason for that success was the availability of trained manpower. Long before the Plant 11 facility was completed, the call for help went out to every corner of the United States for willing hands to build "Hap" Arnold's big bombers. The response was swift and overwhelming. Americans from every walk of life-farmers, clerks, housewives, teachers, pastors, roustabouts and many others – flocked to Wichita from far-flung communities in Kansas, Nebraska, Colorado, Missouri and beyond. After undergoing intense training, they quickly learned the art of aircraft construction by helping to build the PT-13/N2S biplanes, plus component parts for the B-17 -- experience that would prove invaluable when they built the B-29.

Housing the thousands of people flooding into Wichita was a major problem for the local aircraft companies, who were largely responsible for providing their employees with shelter. Thanks to government money and help from the USAAF, more than 5,400 new apartment units sprang up in 1942-43 in the local housing developments of Hilltop Manor and Planeview to meet the pressing need. In addition, hundreds more apartments and homes were built by private contractors, and some temporary quarters were also erected to accommodate overflow.

Communities surrounding Wichita also helped by boarding workers, and a shuttle service was established to ferry workers to and from the bustling aircraft factories of Boeing, Beech and Cessna. According to Boeing records, in January 1942 employment at Boeing-Wichita stood at only 2,829 people. But one year later it had swelled to 22,138, peaking in January 1944 at 29,402, including 11,620 women who played a major role in construction of the Superfortress.

Most of the tooling necessary to build the bomber was installed by late 1942, and some equipment already was in operation. Soon parts and assemblies streamed from the fabrication shops. Production was forced forward at such a seemingly reckless pace that the first few thousand parts were fabricated by hand because not all of the tooling was operational. The situation was a program manager's nightmare -- to simultaneously engineer, develop and build the B-29. "Rush!" quickly became standard operating procedure throughout the shops and assembly lines of Plant II.

The first B-29s made in Wichita slowly began to take shape, but quality control problems began to emerge as the hectic pace of fabrication and production took its toll. The empty weight of early production airplanes varied by hundreds of pounds, chiefly because Boeing was constantly changing material specifications and manufacturing tolerances during the initial production process.

The B-29 was pressurized, and that feature alone carried with it distinct problems not found on the B-17 and other bombers. Seals around the cockpit windows and gun blisters had to be mated perfectly to prevent air leaks. To do the job correctly, workers endured a lengthy training period, but gradually they learned exactly what had to be done to seal the pressurized compartments and meet the rigid specifications. In addition to troubles with sealant, at least 75 B-29s had to have their cockpit window panels replaced because of distortion that degraded pilot visibility during taxi, takeoff and landing. The replacement process virtually halted the assembly lines in the winter, since crews forced to do the work outside could only perform the delicate task for 20 minutes because of snow and freezing temperatures. After the windows were installed, the pressurization systems had to be rechecked for proper sealing.

Boeing designed the B-29 to be built in large modular sections that eventually cut production time from 157, 000 man-hours per plane for the first 100, to 17, 000 man-hours for each of the last 100.

The wing was also frequently modified. As static fatigue testing continued in Seattle, Boeing required that minor structural reinforcements be made to production wings, many of which had already been built or were being built in the jigs and fixtures. The result was sheer chaos. Airplanes rolling down the assembly lines had to be stopped, their wings removed, modifications made, and the wings reinstalled. Aircraft that had been completed were modified outside on the expansive ramp by 1,200 technicians who had been shifted from final assembly operations. During the winter of 1943-44, they worked gallantly under bitter conditions. The wing modifications proved serious enough to warrant new tooling, and production was constantly hampered by changes until the manufacturing configuration was finalized in 1944. The lessons of mass-producing a super bomber were being learned painfully by Boeing-Wichita and the USAAF. An airplane of the magnitude of Boeing's B-29 would normally have had a five year development period prior to production, but it was being designed, developed, produced and tested in only three years, using a largely unskilled work force. Persistence, however, overcame these obstacles.

Another recurring problem centered on electrical connectors located throughout the B-29's 10 miles of wiring harnesses. Referred to as "cannon plugs," the connectors had multiple pins in one half of the plug that mated with receptacles in the other half Although the connectors worked perfectly when tested, after installation in the airplanes they failed to work properly because of vibration. The resulting intermittent electrical problems and loss of power to key systems was traced to the retention device used to hold the pins in place. To remedy the situation, Boeing-Wichita employees removed, disassembled and re-soldered 586,000 connectors used in completed airplanes, in those on the assembly lines and in wiring bundles ready for installation. More than 40,000 man-hours of work were required to resolve the problem.

In addition to Boeing, the Glenn L. Martin Company in Omaha, Neb., and the Bell Aircraft Company in Marietta, Ga., also had been designated manufacturers of the B-29. But the heaviest load fell on Boeing-Wichita. By late 1943, the Plant II complex was working three 7 ½ hour shifts, six days per week. Even that arrangement soon proved inadequate, and on December 13, 1943, the schedule accelerated to two 10-hour shifts, working six days per week.

A newly completed B-29 rolls out of plant II during a night shift. Normally the workers operated in two 10-hour shifts, six days a week, but some volunteered for multiple shifts.

The first shift began at 6 a.m. and continued until 4:45 p.m., when the second shift took over and worked until 3:30 a.m. Many of the employees traveled 20-50 miles from their homes to the factory. It was not unusual for workers, foremen, leadmen, supervisors and specialists to work back-to-back 10-hour shifts for three days, sleeping when they could. A 60-hour work week became the norm, and Boeing-Wichita managed to maintain that blistering pace until the peak demand for B-29s passed late in 1944. The factory then shifted to a 55-hour work schedule for the remainder of the war.

The massive amount of re-engineering and rework needed to make the B-29s meet delivery specifications significantly increased the time required to build the early production bombers. When the Plant II workers completed the 100^th Wichita built Superfortress early in 1944, it had taken 157,000 man-hours to build each airplane. By mid-1945 it took only 17,000 man-hours to build the last 100 B-29s produced at Wichita. Peak production occurred in July 1945, when the factory rolled out 4.2 bombers every workday.

The original B-29 contract called for a batch of 14 YB-29 service test aircraft, but that number was supplemented six times as production models were ordered during the course of the war, for a final total of 3,970 airplanes. Boeing-Wichita built the majority of those aircraft-1,644 of them.

The outcome of World War II was still uncertain in 1944. Reeling from day and night bombardment by the British and the U.S. Eighth Air Force, Germany nevertheless remained a potent foe as it struggled to fight a war on two fronts. Japan's air and naval forces had been severely weakened, and her army was slowly being driven back toward its homeland as the Allied forces drew ever closer to Tokyo.

General Arnold watched closely as Boeing fought to produce the Superfortress. His support for the program never wavered. He knew that the big, four-engine B-29s that were slowly rolling out of the Wichita factory would form the nucleus of his XX Bomber Command. And by 1944, the general desperately needed the planes to vindicate his much-debated theory of long-range, strategic bombardment. The mission of the new Twentieth Air Force was simple: bomb Japan into complete submission.

Over the skies of Germany, the crews of B-17s and Consolidated B-24s were paying a heavy price to test that theory. Despite much political wrangling within the USAAF and in Washington about the efficacy of massive bombardment, the decision had been made to pummel Japan from bases in the China-Burma-India (CBI) Theater of Operations. President Franklin D. Roosevelt agreed with Arnolds plan, but he wanted results-not excuses.

The final B-29 produced at Wichita taxies out for takeoff on October 10, 1945. In March of reduction had stabilized at a staggering 100 planes a month.

Arnold had estimated that he would need a minimum of 175 B-29s to equip the new Twentieth Air Force, and he assigned General Wolfe to develop a master plan for the subjugation of Japan from the air. To assist him in implementing what became known as the "Wolfe Project," he had many talented officers under his command, including battle-seasoned Eighth Air Force veterans. On January 11, 1944, Arnold flew to Wichita to check the progress on his 175 bombers. He was met and escorted through the Plant II facility by plant manager Earl Schaefer. Arnold was impressed by what he saw-B-29s everywhere he looked, an ocean of bright aluminum alloy moving slowly but steadily toward the flight line. There was one B-29 in particular that Arnold sought-number 175. Schaefer later recalled that Arnold turned to him and proclaimed, "This is the plane I want, and I want it before the first of March."

His mandate was met. The 175th Superfortress for the Twentieth Air Force emerged from Plant II on February 28, 1944. The bomber command was scheduled to be ready for deployment to the CBI theater in March, but when Arnold went to the Salina, Kan., staging base on March 9, he found not one B-29 ready to go.

He soon learned why. The delay was being caused by the bane of the B-29 program -- endless repairs, changes to changes and extensive modifications. The airplanes were at Salina for final outfitting that would make them combat-ready, but they all lacked vital parts because Boeing's subcontractors were building them by hand. With parts fabrication moving at a snail's pace, it would be months before the bombers were ready.

President Roosevelt wanted Japan bombed, and Arnold had told him the B-29 was the airplane for the job. Intricate plans had been developed and approved. Red tape was cut. Crews were trained. Bases were waiting. But the bombers were going nowhere. To make matters worse, organization of the modification program was poor, and management was not much better.

Arnold was furious. To break the costly impasse, he hastily assembled a special team and immediately ordered them to work in concert with a company of technical and logistics experts to get the B-29 into combat. Special modification centers were quickly established at Walker, Pratt and Great Bend, Kan., as well as at Salina. The team also contacted vendors and suppliers of the parts that were needed to modify the airplanes, instructing them to cease all nonessential production and meet their obligations to the B-29 program first. Soon parts began to arrive in Kansas by truck and train. Each B-29 consisted of 40,450 parts. Boeing-Wichita fabricated 62 percent of the bomber, with subcontractors providing the remaining 38 percent.

Arnold and his team were beginning to see results of his reorganization efforts, but the need for skilled personnel was obvious. There simply were not enough technicians with experience on the new bomber, and the Army's men, despite their technical training on the bomber, lacked a basic understanding of production and modification techniques needed to transform the B-29 into a fighting machine. In their opinion, they were trained to maintain the Superfortress, not re-engineer it. But that was exactly what Boeing and the USAAF were attempting to do, often struggling with terrible weather and work conditions to perform intricate maintenance on the worlds most advanced heavy bomber. After receiving pleas from the USAAF, Boeing agreed to send 600 technicians, and Martin and Bell also sent workers to fight Arnold’s battle against time to modify the B-29.

A chief target was the engines. The original R-3350 had undergone major design revisions by Wright Aeronautical that helped to remedy failure of the intake and exhaust valves. New engines with drilled rocker arms for improved lubrication, modified nose cases and lower oil cavities, as well as a host of other improvements, were re-designated as R-3350-23A. Teams of workers changed engines on every B-29 with the old model. Biting, late-winter winds and the cold of the prairie made an already arduous task all the more difficult. Oil and fuel hoses were stiff, and tightening a nut or screw became a major problem because of numb fingers. Although the four modification centers had some enclosed buildings, most of the work was performed outside, where there was little shelter from the elements. As a result, progress, although steady, was slow.

In addition to changing engines, new rudders and main landing gear tires had to be installed and cowl flaps had to be reworked. Problems with the latter surfaced during early flights of the B-29. With the cowl flaps opened fully, cooling airflow was adequate, but the flaps induced significant buffeting. Partially closing the flaps stopped the buffeting, but cylinder head temperatures soared to near redline levels. Finally, the cowl flaps were reconfigured to provide enough airflow to keep cylinder heads sufficiently cool without adverse buffeting. More than 30 of the bombers also had to have new APQ-13 radar sets installed, and all the work was performed by technicians with no experience installing that type of unit.

An increasing number of bombers were leaving the centers by late March, bound for China. As each airplane was completed and flight-tested, it left Kansas headed for the reality of offensive operations against Japan. Despite the enormous logistical and manpower problems, as well as the primitive working conditions, after five grueling weeks the job was finally done. The Battle of Kansas had been won by people who were determined to get the Superfortress into combat. Because of their heroic efforts, Arnold’s Twentieth Air Force was officially activated on April 4, 1944. Those unsung warriors built the 175 B-29s Arnold needed to launch the most devastating bomber offensive the world had ever seen-an offensive that would culminate in the dark dawn of the Atomic Age.

In the first of many raids against Japanese-held targets, on June 5, 1944, Wichita-built B-29s bombed Bangkok, Thailand, followed on June 15 by a strike against the Yawata steel mills in Japan. All of the B-29s that participated in the raids had been produced by Boeing Wichita workers.

According to the USAAF's Air Technical Service Command, during the more than two years when B-29s were being produced, the Boeing-Wichita plant led all the manufacturers building heavy bombers in terms of the number of direct man-hours needed per pound of complete units produced. It also ranked first in total pounds of airplane accepted per square foot of direct floor area, and first in total hours worked compared with total hours scheduled in the whole of the U.S. airplane industry.

Another 1,119 B-29s were completed by Boeing at the Seattle-Renton facilities in Washington. The Glenn L. Martin Company of Omaha, Neb., and Bell Aircraft Company of Marietta, Ga., together built an additional 1,204 B-29s. The amended wartime government contract had called for 6,289 B-29s, but all three manufacturers produced a total of 3,970 of the bombers during the war.

As the war in the Pacific began to wane, in March 1945 B-29 production was slowed to 100 bombers per month. On August 6, a Martin-built B-29 dubbed Enola Gay dropped an atomic bomb on Hiroshima, Japan. Then, three days after that bombing, another Martin-built B-29 named Bockscar unleashed another bomb on Nagasaki. The B-29s and the use of atomic bombs had made further resistance futile, and the Japanese surrendered unconditionally in mid-August.

Two months later, on October 10, 1945, a USAAF ferry command crew accepted delivery of the final B-29 from Boeing Wichita. The mighty R-3350 engines coughed, belched clouds of smoke, and then settled into their familiar powerful rumble as the pilots taxied away from the vacant Plant II ramp. Minutes later, the cool Kansas air lifted the last leviathan into her element, with the big Wright radials bellowing their final farewell to Kansas. At last, the Battle of Kansas had come to an end.

Saga of the General H. H. Arnold Special

The 175th B-29 built by Boeing-Wichita (USAAF Serial No. 42-6365) for the fledgling Twentieth Air Force was dedicated to General Henry H. "Hap" Arnold, commanding officer of the United States Army Air Forces during World War II. It had a brief but colorful career, eventually serving not only in the USAAF but also in the Soviet air force. Although the story of this famous bomber had been approved for release to the public on November 23, 1944, for reasons of national security it was not published until October 1946.

During his visit to Boeing-Wichita on January 11, 1944, Arnold had inspected the B-29 that would bear his name and told the division's vice president, J. Earl Schaefer, that he wanted the airplane before the first of March. To Arnold, the 175^th Superfortress built at Wichita was more than an airplane – it was the last "brick" he needed to build the 20th Bomber Command and inaugurate the strategic bombardment of Japan.

While closely observing progress on the airplane, Arnold took out his pencil and wrote a note below the cockpit on the right side of the fuselage: "The end of a good job splendidly done. Thanx from the AAF." He also signed his name on the inside wall of the fuselage under the bombardier's instrument panel.

In response to Arnold's visit, workers dubbed the airplane the General H.H. Arnold Special. Armed with renewed vigor following Arnold's visit, production personnel completed the B-29 late in February, ahead of the general's schedule. A Boeing test crew climbed aboard the bomber and took it aloft on its maiden flight on the date Arnold said he wanted the 175th Superfortress. After flight testing, the airplane was flown from Wichita to Smoky Hill Army Air Base at Salina, Kan., where it was assigned to the 468th Very Heavy Bombardment Group of the Twentieth Air Force. On April 13, 1944, it took off on a 14,000-mile trek nearly halfway around the globe to India, where Arnold planned to initiate offensive bombing operations against the Japanese homeland.

The bomber flew only 11 missions. On June 5, 1944, Arnold's B-29 was the first bomber to strike Bangkok, Thailand, on an exploratory raid against the Japanese-held city. It was also among the first airplanes to drop their lethal load of bombs on the Yawata steel mills on June 15, in the first American strike against Japan's home islands since L/Col James H. "Jimmy" Doolittle's Tokyo raid of April 18, 1942. Other raids included missions against Sasebo, Singapore, Formosa and targets in Japanese-occupied China. Its longest foray, however, was a 3,700-mile flight to bomb a petroleum refinery at Palembang, Sumatra. The B-29 and its crew fought off determined enemy fighters and survived flak hits on both wings, an engine fire and bad weather to make it home safely.

On November 11, 1944, the airplane was among more than 90 B-29s that took off to strike aircraft factories at Omura, Japan, in what would prove to be its final mission. Because of foul weather reported over the primary target, about half of the force was diverted to bomb Nanking, China. Failing to receive the change in orders, 29 airplanes continued on to Omura, but turbulence and cloud cover persisted, and no new damage was inflicted. Captain Weston Price was in command of the General H.H. Arnold Special that day, and with fuel running low, he decided to divert to Vladivostok, in the Soviet Union.

Although Price transmitted the international word for "friend" as he approached the Soviet coast, anti-aircraft fire erupted, followed soon by fighters that surrounded the Superfortress on all sides. After landing at Vladivostok, Price and his crew were interned with other American airmen at Tashkent, but their bomber disappeared. It eventually served as a template for the Soviet Tupolev Tu-4, a virtual duplicate of the venerable B-29 that appeared after the war. During its eight months of service with the Twentieth Air Force, the General H.H. Arnold Special accumulated about 600 hours of flying time and flew more than 100,000 miles. 

B-29 Flight Test

Birth and Deployment of the B-29 By Col A. Harvey

Few men in the Army Air Force were closer to the development and deployment into combat of the B-29 Superfortress than Colonel Alva L. Harvey. Eddie Allen, Boeing Airplane Company's famed test pilot had made the first flight in a B-29 on September 1st of 1942, before Colonel Harvey reported for duty at the Boeing plant in Seattle, Washington, as the Air Force's B-29 Project Officer. Thus October 1, 1942 became a date closely associated with the success of the airplane that was to become the nemesis of the Japanese homeland. Colonel Harvey's association with the Superfortress is told here in an excerpt from his autobiography.

New assignments in the military are at times surprising and challenging. I learned of my most challenging assignment in September of 1942 and looked forward to it with great enthusiasm. It was to the Bombardment Section at Air Force Headquarters, the Pentagon, with duty station at the Boeing Company's factory in Seattle, Washington as project officer on the B-29.

I reported on October 1st. The B-29, known as the Superfortress, was being built for employment against the Japanese mainland. My responsibility was to study and make recommendations pertaining to the combat employment of the aircraft; armament and bomb carrying capabilities; equipment required for maintenance at overseas bases; size and composition of aircrews and units; and to keep in close liaison with Air Force Headquarters.

Boeing continued building the B 17 in large numbers which required testing and delivery to modification centers. The opportunities -- testing and delivering B17's-satisfied my flying desires. Early in 1943 I moved to the Boeing plant at Wichita Kansas where production of the B-29 was in progress.

A good part of my time was consumed in acceptance test flights of the .new aircraft and checking out pilots. Each flight was a thrill in itself. The Wright R-3350 engines, each delivering 2250 horsepower, and built especially for the B-29, were not perfected. If we returned to base with three of the four engines running, that was considered par for the course. Engine failures came mostly from overheating and the hot mid-summer days of Kansas did not add favorably to the problem. It was a delight to observe those enthusiastic young pilots, eager to fly the Superfortresses. This was grim serious business for we would all soon be off to combat. “Falling through the Crack” follows. DL

In mid-summer of 1943 the first of the B-29 bombardment wings was organized, designated the 58th, and commanded by Brigadier General K.B. Wolfe. In the initial planning the 58th and 73rd Bomb Wings were destined for India and assigned to the XX Bomber Command under General Wolfe. Plans were changed and the 73rd was sent to Saipan. Brigadier General Bernie Saunders took command of the 58th, and was succeeded in February 1945 by Brigadier General Roger Ramey.

The 58th Wing, which was the first wing of the 20th Air Force, was further organized into four bombardment groups -- the 40th, 462nd, 444th, and the 468th. Group commanders were: Colonels Lew Parker, Dick Carmichael (ex 19th BG CO, photo), Al Harvey, and Howard Engler, respectively. They were selected from those officers having seniority and broad experience.

Training bases were prepared for the groups at Pratt, Walker, Great Bend and Salina Kansas. Salina was the headquarters base. Personnel, aircraft and equipment soon filled these bases and a period of concentrated training got under way. In January of 1944 the B-29's were grounded for a series of modifications which would better prepare them for combat All other training continued relentlessly. The ground units departed to ports of embarkation for ship voyages to India some by way of Australia and other via Algeria

During the period our B-29's were grounded for modification, Lew Parker and I were sent to England to observe bombardment techniques being used against German targets. We each flew five bombardment missions with the 8th Air Force. Our fifth mission was the first daylight raid on Berlin, on which the 8th dispatched 800 B-17 and B-24 bombers. This strike force was composed of two wings: the B-17 wing was commanded by Colonel Curtis LeMay and the B-24 wing by Colonel Bob Williams. Eighty bombers were lost to German fighter planes and anti-aircraft fire. I flew on this raid with the 100th Bombardment Group which was commanded by Colonel "Chick" Harding. Of the 30 B-17's that this group sent our fifteen went down over Germany.

It was a thrill-packed, breathtaking nine hours -- bombers spinning out of formation, some in flames. Hermann Goering's fighter aircraft attacked our formations viciously. They came at us from out of the sun -- from twelve o'clock high -- their guns flaming, spitting fire and fury .Our own fighter escorts were right there, dealing a devastating blow to the German fighter force. Lew Parker went down with one of the B-17's; fortunately, his life was spared and he spent the next two years in a German prison camp.

I returned soon thereafter to my 444th Group at Great Bend. The B-29's were again operational and all was in readiness for our movement to India and China where the aircraft and their crews would be exposed to the crucial test of combat.

B-29 bases were constructed in India and China for our combat operations against the Japanese. The rear bases were in the Calcutta area and the forward bases were in ....

B-29 bases were constructed in India and China for our combat operations against the Japanese. The rear bases were in the Calcutta area and the forward bases were in the Hsinching-Pengshan-Chengtu area in the province of Szuchwan, China. Movement of the four groups to these bases began at the end of April 1944. Our route of flight from Kansas was via Bangor, Maine; Marrekech, Morocco; Cairo, Egypt; Karachi, Pakistan; Calcutta, India; and Chengtu, China. These long flights gave our crews needed experience in long-range operations of the B-29, experience they were sure to need on their future combat missions. In the Calcutta area groups were deployed on former Royal Air Force bases. New bases were built in the Chengtu area by the Chinese.

From our India bases we flew bombing and mining missions against Japanese held installations in Burma and along the Malay Peninsula as far south as Singapore. From Chengtu many of our strikes were against targets on the Japanese mainland. Two were flown against the Japanese steel mills at Harbin, Manchuria. The enemy met us with strong fighter aircraft resistance at many of the targets. Their naval bases were strongly defended by both fighter aircraft and radar-laying anti-aircraft guns. This combination provided them strong defensive action.

Most of the missions were of long duration, requiring up to 21 hours in flight. The longest B-29 bombardment and mining mission of the war took place on August 10-11 of 1944 -- from the RAF base at China Bay, Ceylon to Palembang, Sumatra where we bombed the oil refineries and mined the Moesi River. The crews would return from these long missions requiring hours of rest and sleep. They slept -- not in comparison to Washington Irving's "Old Rip" -- just deep, restful sleep. These were courageous, well-motivated men, "men you could ride the river with." Inevitably, some aircraft and crews were lost shot down by enemy aircraft or anti-aircraft fire. Losses are to be expected in war; nevertheless, our hearts were always heavy after the loss of these valiant young men.

Flights made from Calcutta and Chengtu required that we cruise at high altitudes, normally 25,000 feet when crossing the rugged Himalaya Mountains the "Hump," or "Roof of the World" -- and usually in the clouds. Some days we encountered severe turbulent winds that would toss our B-29's around like a cork on the sea. On other days, when the snow-capped peak of Mount Everest was visible, the flight was much more enjoyable. Although Mount Everest was located within the ancient land of Tibet some 150 miles north of our flight path, the airmen could revel in its majestic beauty. Winds of 200 to 250 miles per hour were recorded over the hump, these were later called the "Jet Stream."

We found strange customs in some localities. It wasn't unusual to see groups of families bathing fully dressed in streams along with their cattle, pigs, and water buffalo. In one area the burial custom was somewhat surprising. When a death occurred, the body of the dearly departed was tossed over a high stone wall that formed an enclosure of about two acres. At Chengtu food shops were operated in the open. Freshly butchered beef, port and fowl were hung in the open, readily available for inspection. The pesky flies had a field day, but this didn't appear to deter the customers. 

We had to rough it a bit at Chengtu. we lived in tents and had relatively no recreation facilities. The mess was run by the Chinese, which was far short of being a wise decision no matter who made it. the Chinese cooks would take the best loin of beef and cut it up and cook it with bean sprouts and other vegetables unknown to us from the Western world. The result was anything but appetizing, to say the least. Some of the more enterprising Chinese established short-order stands around the base. Fresh eggs -- they called them "eggeses"-were plentiful, so I practically lived on "eggeses."

By late 1944 and early 1945, air bases had been built in the Mariana Island group. The B-29 bombardment wings began operations from Guam, Saipan, and Tinian Islands, all part of the XXI Bomber Command under the command of Major General Curtis LeMay.

The Mariana bases were nearer the Japanese mainland and targets could be reached in much less time than from Chengtu. With the supply situation being critical in China, the 58th Wing with its four bombardment groups was ordered to move to Tinian. We made the move in May of 1945 and the first mission from West Field Tinian took place on May 10th.

Living conditions on Tinian were vastly more enjoyable than those at Chengtu. Even though we still slept in tents, the climate was milder. Our mess was run by Air Force personnel movies were shown each night, baseball teams were organize and the crystal clear waters along the beaches drew our troops in great numbers to get in a swim and enjoy a few relaxing moments between missions.

Some organization changes were made. I moved up to duty as Deputy Wing Commander of the 58th. The wing commanders were: Generals Tommy Power (314th), Jim Davies (313th), Roger Ramey (58th), Rosey O'Donnell (73rd)(photo, ex CO 14th Sqd HW & 19th BG PI), and Frank "Twelve O'Clock High" Armstrong (315th). Although it was an interesting experience working with the top brass, my heart remained with my old 444th Group. Our 58th Wing became an integral part of the XXI Bomber Command.

Ground Crew Training

Flight crews were only a small percentage of personnel in a B-29 organization.

All enlisted personnel went through some kind of training before they became part of an operational organization. It’s quite natural that aviation stories tell about missions, as flying missions are the purpose of an Air Force. In reality, the largest percent of those who served in the Army Air Corps (Air Force) were ground crew who’s task was “To Sustain The Wings”. In pre-WWII peace time the Air Corps pursued a policy that all personnel would be “rated”, that all ground crew also have a flight crew roll. On Java, Field Artillery personnel replace mechanics as gunners in order to keep planes flying. Skilled maintenance personnel were urgently needed to make repairs, they could not do both, fly & fix. Flight officers with engineering back grounds such as Pilot/Navigator M. McKinsie, were pulled off flight duty to operate service centers requiring their skills. From early 1942 on personnel were trained for the specialty needed, everybody being flight rated had become a peace time luxury.

A history of those times would be incomplete if it did not include the process of going from enlistment, or induction center, to an operational assignment. The CD includes files of authors experiences going from civilian to GI to B-29 maintenance. These experiences were typical for all enlisted personnel, no matter what branch of service. Those stories are omitted to conserve space in this book – their stories on CD are recommended for further reading.

The B-29

Nose Gear Main Gear

Forward Bomb bay, looking aft Aft Bomb bay looking aft at pressurized bulkhead

Looking aft toward Tail Gunner’s position. V-2 Put-Put engine lower right Brig/Gen Eugene Eubank:

Brig/Gen Eugene Eubank

There is very little information about what happened to “Col” Eubank who trained and led the 19^th BG from March Field to Albuquerque to Clark Field PI, to Malang Java, to Australia. After Gen Kenney arrived to take over from Gen Brett, there was only an occasional mention of Eubank. McAuliff, when helping clear up pay roll records was having trouble getting anyone to take his word on what had happened, he tells of Eubank interrupting, telling others to accept what McAuliff said as right.

There was a report of someone saying they were on the same airplane in Australia when Eubank was en-route to see a Dr.

Eubank’s Oral Interview, when he retired, never had much to say about events from Australia on except that he returned to the states to head bomber crews training. He did go to see his good friend Jimmy Doolitte, then head of the 8^th AF in Europe. After the war Eubanks returned to Clark Field, there are photos of him there. He retired as a Brig/Gen and went to work for a large bank in TX, serving for many years with them. He was present when the 19^th BG Association was formed about 1966, looking fit but no longer his trim wartime self.

One thing was certain, everyone who ever served under him held him in the highest regard – with out exception. John Carpenter who retired as a Brig/Gen spoke of Eubank as being the best instructor he ever had. Members of the 19^th Association considered it a special honor to have him present or to pay him a visit. His wife was with him for his 104^th birth day, then she died a couple years later at age 97. (need to validate years)

At the 1998 Association reunion in Tucson, I had occasion to visit with Bob Altman who had been the radio operator on Colin Kelley’s crew. Bob had been filling me in on many things. Though many others escaped, Bob become a POW. There was a pause in our conversation and I said, “Bob what can you tell me about Eubank? Everyone who served under him express nothing but praise and affection for him – but for some reason he did not rise as one might expect?” Bob paused for a few moments. I knew Bob had talked with Eubank after the war because Bob told of visiting with him after he returned. Bob said, “Eubank asked me, ‘Bob could you tell me just what happened when Kelley’s plane was shot down, I’ve always been confused about just what did happen’ ”. Knowing this I was waiting for Bob to end his pause before answering. Then Bob said, “Yes your right, everyone admired and respected him. Perhaps this event will explain it. We had come up from Del Monte and landed at Clark to load up with fuel and bombs for that fateful mission. One of the wheels got stuck in a bomb crater, and it looked like our plane, one of the few left, would be out of action. Eubank came running out all excited and upset that another airplane was lost. Kelley, who was a West Point graduate did an unusual thing, as he was a stickler for military protocol, he laid his hand on Eubanks shoulder and said, ‘don’t worry, I flew the damn thing in here, and I’ll fly it out.’ This calmed Eubank and Colin did fly it out.” Another pause and Bob said, “perhaps he became a bit too excitable under stress.”

I told this story at the 1999 reunion in Cincinnati and afterward Charlie Bowman came up to me and said, “I’m so glad you told that story. What Bob told you was right, I was there, Eubank was very upset. You see, I was a backup pilot for Kelley’s plane and was there to help get it ready. That crater was not too big but deep and the wheel was stuck. We used my (WW I type) helmet as a scoop, to dig a ramp so the wheel could climb out.” Charlie, now crippled with arthritis, beamed as his thoughts recalled those events.

Some, who were not there, blamed Eubank for the B-17s at Clark Field being on the ground when the Japanese attack. Some faulted him for becoming excited under stress. Thank goodness this man who had searched for Pancho Villa in a bi-plane, who had been a test pilot for many years; was there to teach, create and lead the 19^th BG at a critical time. There were few others who could have done as well. There is good reason why those who knew him, loved and respected him -- and affectionately refer to him as “the old man”. Other Bomb Groups also had leaders they admired – that’s the way it was.

Mr & Mrs Eubank for his 100 birthday at 19^th BG Reunion 1991

There is a vidio clip of Eubank & Doughty speaking at the 1991 19^th BG reunion on the CD.

The Options for Bombing Japan

There were two options for reaching Japan, even with B-29s: via China or the Pacific. In early 1943 Japan still controlled the Pacific so that left China, the hard way, via the Burma Road. By mid 1944 the Navy gained control of the seas in the mid Pacific and the Marianas could be taken, things were looking up. 

The Global 20th AF becomes Operational

Prior to WW II, the US Air Forces had always been a sub-tier part of either he Army or the Navy. The British separated their forces into Army, Navy and Air Force. When coordination took place, at the beginning of hostilities, Gen Marshall arranged for Hap Arnold to be the Air Corp representative to work with his British counterpart. It had become obvious that air power would play a major roll, from then on the Army Air Corp began to play an independent Air Force roll, as if a separate service. Though the uniform remained Army the transition continued to a separate branch of service. Navy airpower continued to be a sub-tier part of the Navy though carriers took over the dominate roll from battle ships. The Marines, Marine airpower and Navy carrier air power were sub parts of the Navy.

It was traditional to have territorial commanders, thus the Pacific and it's islands fell under Nimitz Navy command and the Australia to Philippines land areas fell under MacArthur’s Army command. The B-29, with it's global reach, could span multiple theater commands, it covered a global domain. It was decided by Gen Marshall, and staff, that B-29 operations should be under the direct command of Gen Arnold -- it was given a Global logo and the designation 20th Air Force. This was a new concept and accepted by MacArthur and Nimitz with reluctance. Gen Hansel tells of this and problems encountered. Other services provided support but Operations were under Arnolds command. The system work well and has continued since.

Gen Hansell led the 73^rd Wing to Saipan. A short time later Gen E. O’Donnell, (CO of 19^th BG personnel left on PI Jan-March 1942) replace Hansell as CO of the 73^rd Wing during it’s operations against Japan.

58th Wing to China

As soon as B-29s became available they were sent to China, which was the closest land mass from which the B-29 could bomb Japan. Early on the Burma Road had been planned as a major supply route to China. The Japanese were intent on cutting off a supply line into China and pushed a rail line into the region. The movie “Bridge on the River Kwi” was made this effort famous. The story of Merril’s raiders describe the time, effort and manpower spent fending off the Japanese and taking the necessary territory in order to build the Burma Road. While the road was being built, C-47s were "flying the hump" to carry a meager trickle of supplies into China. The C-47, with it's two R1820 engines, was just too feeble to carry loads that high and that far. The C-54 came to the rescue with it's four R2400 engines -- it was so successful at carrying conventional supplies that the fleet of trucks, ordered for the Burma Road, were cancelled.

However, getting supplies of fuel and bombs to the B-29s was a much greater problem. This was an enormous logistical undertaking, barely accommodated by use of B-29s to fly in their own supplies. It was obvious a better launch site was needed, one the Navy could reach with the enormous tonnage of supplies, bombs and fuel needed to sustain heavy bombing operations.

The Marianas

There were three usable islands for air bases in the Marianas; Saipan, Tinian & Guam. Guam had been a territory of the US before the war and the Navy had supported a sizable operation there in peace time. The design criteria for the B-29 had been based on flying a distanced such as from Guam to Japan and back. From the beginning advanced planning had focused on this task but first the Navy had to drive Japanese carrier forces from these seas so US forces could be landed to take the islands. It was decided to take Saipan first.

The Marianas Islands are mountain tips that extend from the rim of the Marianas Trench, the deepest place in the ocean, and poke above sea level. Surrounded by a vast expanse of water, these provided enough elbow room in which to set up bases for the growing numbers of new B-29s coming off the assembly lines. Once the Navy and Marines got a toe hold, the Army and Engineers moved in to build facilities where none had existed before. Provisions were made for the small native populations to co exist in areas reserved for them while military forces swarmed in. These islands were soon a beehive of focused activity – Japan’s protective mote, the Pacific Ocean, was about to be breached.

1. Marines move away from an exploding charge just tossed into an underground bunker. 2. An American marine takes time out to help a terrified family escape. 3. A US bulldozer rumbles over the barren and rocky soil as it carries our the grim task of digging a mass grave for hundreds of Japanese soldiers. More than 2000 enemy troops who were slaughtered in a great but futile banzai charge. 4. US ground crew struggle against flames and smoke in order to smother a blazing B-29 bomber with bulldozed earth. Plane was hit and set on fire during Japanese bombing raid on the Island.

Before Saipan was cleared, crews were at work building Isley Field which was to be the site of the 73rd Wing of the new 20th AF. Saipan B-29s arrived Oct 8 1944 and after some practice missions 110 B-29s took off Nov 24 1944 on their first mission against Japan. It was the beginning of effective operations.

Tinian North Field was the largest in the Mariana. B-29s of the 313th Wing began to arrive Dec 1944 and flew their first mission Jan 1945. The 58^th wing was pulled out of China in 1945 and reestablished on Tinian. When the war ended, all wings, groups, squadrons took part in flying supplies to POWs held in Japan and other Pacific locations. The above photo shows about half of the available Saipan planes lined up for take off. Some 900 20^th AF B-29s were applied to delivering POW supplies.

Tinian was selected as the most secure isolated site from which the A-bombs would be launched. The spacious field left plenty of room for a special operation.

North Field home of 314^th Wing 1945

Guam was taken last, being the largest of the islands it took more time to mop up and clear it's major harbor facilities. The north end of Guam had to be cleared of the Japanese, who holed up in caves -- many Japanese remained hidden in caves and did not surrender until after the war was over. Because Guam had been a US territory and the largest island, it was selected as the site for Nimitz Navy headquarters and also the site of the 20th AF Headquarters under Gen Curtis LeMay. North Field Guam was still under construction when the 19th BG ground echelon arrived in January of 1945. Work on North West field, home of the 315^th wing did not begin until after North Field was completed. By Feb 1945 there were more base facilities than there were B-29s. 314th Wing’s North Field, later named Anderson Field, took off over Pati Point on right & 315^th Wing took off over Ridian point. Unlike Tinian’s sea level runways, N Field had a 600 foot cliff off the end of the runway.

Ridian Point far left, Looking down 600 ft Patti Point cliff, pointing to Ridian from Pati Point

Apra Harbor (looking west), Navy air field on Orote peninsula (center), Nimitz beach is to the left

(composite photo taken by author 1945 using newly purchased PX 35 mm camera & barracks developed film)

Headquarters for Pacific operations is now ashore

Facilities for Navy carrier and Army transport aircraft (at Harmon Field) are the first to be operational

19th BG Trains at Great Bend KS 1944

A Swim in the Gulf by Fred Bigelow

I was stationed in Smyrna, TN when the orders came for me to report to Lincoln, Nebr. for reassignment. Shortly after arrival there, I received orders to report to Great Bend, KS for duty in B-29s.

My new crew was headed by AC Lt. Eugene Hammond. We met and hit it off well immediately. It was as if we were long friends and this was our destiny.

Great Bend, KS was not the garden spot of the world and living space was at a premium. Quarters were found in nearby Larned, KS. Training started almost upon my arrival. Our first mission was aborted because of an engine failure, the second failed because of fuel problems, the third failed because the wheel on the left side would not fully retract. This resulting in an 8 1/2 hour circle over Tinker Field whilst all manner of things were tried to fix the problem. We landed at Tinker without any big fuss, there were fire teams and ambulances following us but Gene Hammond did a wonderful job. I was not aware that a plane could be evacuated so swiftly! By the time I could shut off the Auxiliary Power Unit, five men cleared the aircraft!

This brings us to the fourth mission. We were to take off, fly to Boston, then to Miami, thence out in the gulf to bomb a small sand spit 40 miles out from Biloxi, MS. and return to Great Bend. Whilst on a run to drop my first bomb, a fire broke out in the area just aft of the cowl flaps on engine #2. All efforts to kill the blaze failed and the wing behind the fire was becoming charred. After discussions with Co-pilot Ed Gresham, Commander Hammond and myself, it was decided that since the engine fire could not be doused, the order should be given to abandon the aircraft. The bombs were salvoed, the wheels were lowered and the crew was signaled to bail out. We were flying on a heading of South-South-West at 12,000 ft altitude under a clear sky and low winds. I was detailed to jump with the Navigator Jim Clark as he could not swim.

I counted eleven chutes open as I floated down (we had an observer aboard), as I watched for the twelfth I saw a black object falling from the plane as it headed into the sun. Thinking that object was the pilot whose chute did not open, I was feeling somewhat dejected. But the most immediate problem was to land safely and to be close to Jim on the surface.

On hitting the water, I tried to make the chute billow out and pull me to the sand spit I had been bombing, but that maneuver failed miserably. Ridding myself of the chute and harness, I shouted for Jim and received no response despite regular shouts at close intervals. The time was fixed on my watch at 17:15 hours on November 24, 1944.

There were two PBY aircraft from the largest Air-Sea Rescue School in the world which landed and picked up one of the crew then took off. Another landed and a short time later took off directly over my head. If I had a broom I could have swept the hull. Then a B-24 circled us flashing its lights to let us know we were seen and help was on it's way. As it was 17:15 on a late November night, the B-24 departed and was not seen again.

Almost two hours later, a boat came within hailing distance but it was going too fast and did not hear my shouts. I heard another voice shouting so we kept up voice contact until we were together, it was Bill Jones, one of the side gunners. He was in bad shape, his Mae West had failed and he was tired out from treading water. So I gave him my Mae West and strapped it to him and tied him to me with the straps of his useless vest. Bill promptly passed out and I could not arouse him. We floated in the water looking for help. Somewhere about 8:30 or nine o'clock we could see aircraft circling above us and dropping flares about twenty miles from our position. Approximately three hours later along about 11:30 we could see a boat coming toward us at a slow speed. I tried to maneuver to an intercepting course. When they were within hailing distance, I shouted a couple of times and tried to awaken Bill but that didn't work. The coast guard cutter heard me calling, hove to and asked how I was. I said I was OK but didn't know the status of my friend Bill Jones. Some one tossed me a line and another dove into the water to secure Bill. Both of us were safe aboard and then I found that we, plus one other fellow were the only ones picked up that evening. It was approximately midnight or a little after when we were clutched from the sea, so we had a 7 1/2 hour swim and a pair of charley horses that would not quit!

The Air Sea Rescue School had managed to pick up only one person out of twelve only 40 mi from their base. A great confidence builder for crews about to fly from the Marianas to Japan.

Upon reaching shore, we were transferred to the base hospital at Biloxi. There I remained for a week while I recovered from shock, over-exposure and charley horses. They found the body of our Navigator the next day and I was on orders to take him home for burial. When the flight surgeon heard about this, he raised holy Ned with the adjutant and I stayed in bed. After I was discharged from the hospital, two more weeks would pass before we could return to Great Bend. It was on the third day of my stay that I learned that the pilot Gene Hammond, watched the engine fall off and returned the plane to Biloxi. He was the only person who ever flew a B-29 with only three engines and the bomb bay doors open and landed it solo! Gene received the DFC for that bit of skill.

Now that was the most memorable flight I ever had in a B-29. There were incidents experienced in combat which were scary, and which were at least as dangerous, but none have been so indelibly written into my memory as that training flight.

When I returned to duty, I was assigned to crew #21 under the command of Capt. Chester Wells. We trained in Puerto Rico where the weather was warm and the planes could be worked on and correctly maintained. Returning to Great Bend late in January, 1945, we received orders to appear on Guam as part of the 28th Sqd; 19th Bomb Group; 314th Bomb Wing; 20th Air Force.

Fred would later receive the Soldiers Medal, for saving a fellows life when caught unexpectedly in the surf off Guam. DL

Ground Crew Training

Seymour Johnson Field NC -- Pre-Technical Cadets by D Landau

It was late at night when Ned Kendal and I arrived at the train station, we helped each other place our belongings in a truck sent to pick us up – Ned would become a “bottle cap” Colonel, the top cadet officer, and I a “bottle cap” L/Col and Adjutant for parades at Yale University. The buddy system was at work, we met as strangers and were buddies till we parted after graduation. Ned had been in Flying Cadets before and knew the ropes. "Tack" Officers were in charge of our training; Tack Officers, our grades, and the demerit system determined if we passed or washed out. If we made poor grades or became burdened with demerits they could do nothing to help -- but it was the Tack Officer choice of who moved up in cadet rank.

Pre-Technical Cadets was the name for 3 months of OCS (Officer Candidate School) followed by one month of pre technical training before going to Yale University. OCS graduates came out as 2nd Lts, we were still cadets not yet half way through our training. The school was fashioned after West Point: rules were stringent, there was hazing by upperclassmen and we were bound by the Honor Code. During the first week hazing was rigorous with the intent of culling out anyone who could not stand up to it's intensity. I was present when a M/Sgt broke under the deliberately applied pressure. Though I didn't like the process it certainly was effective – best to break under artificial stress than under the real thing. Once the hazing was over the pace was kept deliberately pressing and demanding. Cadet Officers, under the watchful eye of Tack Officers, would issue gig slips for any infraction of a cadet rule. You had to "work off" a gig slip by spending a specified period of time marching a post. This had to be done during precious time needed for study or other duties. To keep up, you could not afford to get behind.

A few minutes before falling out to form up for a parade Capt Miller, our tack officer, came into the barracks looking for me -- motioned and said follow me! I did so, having no idea what this was about. He was tall and long legged and I had trouble keeping up. He instructed me to go to the far end of a near by drill field and yell commands back to him. I ran there at double time and shouted commands to him – he waved me back to join him. Hurrying back he said the cadet who had been trained to head our parade group had come down with an attack of appendicitis – I was to take his place. I have no idea why he selected me for this test to proved if my voice could be heard. As he was rated on how well “his outfit” did, this was no small matter to him. We performed well in the subsequent parade, making him look good – from then on I was a "bottle cap" cadet officer.

About half way through, some six of us out of about 500, were excused from all classes and served as assistants to the tack officers. This was no small thing to those of us selected, we knew the system was washing out about 25%, and now we were immune to wash out – provided we didn't screw up in he eyes of a tack officer. We "bottle caps" did our best to help those in trouble, they were our barracks mates and friends. Applebatt, in our upper bunk, told me he was washing out. He'd been looking after me, being sure my shoes were properly placed during inspections when I was off on other assignments. When I asked if there was any way I could help, he shook his head, saying I don't know enough about aircraft, I don't belong here – but you do, that's why I've made sure your things are in order and pass inspection. I felt compassion, but I knew he was right – he was a wonderful fellow but technically out of his element. He confessed that the physical training instructor, were he'd been stationed, liked him and had pushed things through to get him into the cadet program. The system worked in strange ways.

San Antonio TX

Abruptly they closed the cadet program at Seymour Johnson Field NC and we moved to San Antonio TX to finish our last month of training. Our part of the base had once housed many who were now scattered overseas. Due to wash outs, our outfit was now sharp, focused and well trained. At a final dinner the tack officers almost treated us as one of them – though we knew we were less than half way through the program.

Before boarding the train for our trip to New Haven CN, we were given a quick inspection. The dentist looked in my mouth and said sit over there. Between looking in other fellows mouths, he pulled one of my wisdom teeth, showed it to me, saying now you're OK. I fell back in line and boarded the train. The clickity click of that long ride caused me to sleep and sleep, a refreshing relief from constantly being "on the ball".

Yale University New Haven CN

We marched from the train station to Yale Universities Old Quad entrance where "on the ball" discipline began all over again. Time was allocated for classes, physical training, drilling, parades, and study with lights out at 10:00 pm and “rise and shine” at 6:00 am. We had three hours off after the Saturday and Sunday afternoon parade, with time allowed Sunday morning for those attending services. Discipline was very strict, public demeanor had to be impeccable. For the most part we were too busy keeping up with demands; going to classes, studying, preparing for and participating in parades to have time for personal lives. By now almost everyone could handle the demerit system and keep out of that kind of trouble, now the focus was on maintaining passing grades.

Yale was supported by wealthy families, the Old Quad had been built by the Rockefeller family. It’s marble stairway steps had been wore by a parade of many shoes. Siliman Hall, our quarters, was recent and of elegant quality. The band (previously the Glenn Miller Band) would exit the Old Quad to form up on the “lower green”. A very large contingent of cadets would form up abreast in groups 20 deep for the length of the lower green, our parade ground. At upper right is Kendal, label CC the cadet commander, and Landau, label A the Adjutant, as our squadron moved from upper to lower green for the weekly parade. Citizens came for miles to watch. Room mates Kendal, Neudorfer, Brown and Landau take a break from studies for photo. At bottom, newly graduated 2^nd Lt Airplane Mechanics.

We studied a given subject for a week with a daily 10 question quiz on what we had studied the night before, the topic for the pending class. You could miss two questions and pass. You could fail two tests a week and pass. At the end of each week we were given a 100 question test on that weeks subject. Two weeks later we were given an oral exam, usually in conjunction with a lab trouble shooting test. If you flunked the set of daily tests, the written end of week test or the two week later oral exam, you flunked the week. Fail two weeks and you were on probation, few survived probation. The system was washing out about 25% of those left after a previous 25% loss in PreCadets. In the beginning they were less strict, they needed all that could pass; but now they could afford to tighten the screws, we were only needed to fill replacement requests.

Our motto was "cooperation means graduation". Tech Orders, describing and defining service of the equipment, were our text books. Most of the equipment was newly created and there was no other source of information. Some one in each class would take notes on the questions asked and pass them to the next class -- it became essential to memorize all these notes as if they were text books. We didn't know what the questions might be so we had to learn the answers to all possible questions -- it certainly did enhance learning. In effect we memorized how all the systems worked in order to pass – later this proved to be very helpful when called upon to trouble shoot a system.

An event happened that I've never been able to explain. An infection developed in my left foot that I would not cure. My class mates insisted that I go to the Dr, but I procrastinated as I didn't want to be parted from my class mates, who would be going on while I was out. Finally I had to go and was put in the hospital for a week during which they had me soak my foot in potassium permanganate -- it was a fungus brought back from the tropics. One fellow had it all over his body and had been there over a month. I was cured in a few days and was back in time for the change in class schedule. Only I found my buddies and I were still in the same class? I asked how that could be? The only answer I got was an emphatic "don't ask". What ever they did they had taken a considerable risk of being washed out. Various instructors had commented that we had one of the best classes they'd taught – my classmates wanted us to keep together.

Our prior "bottle cap" rank had been dropped when we arrived at Yale. The parade ground was full of cadets, we were simply the tail end class. I don't know how it happened but I was again called upon to march our group of some 100 during parade practice. One day out on the drill field one of the fellows who had been an upper classman bottle cap in pre-tech training told me “you have been selected to be one of the top cadets for parades? I wondered how in the world could he know? Sure enough a week later Kendall, Neudorpher and I were assigned to be the Cadet Commander, Second in Command and Adjutant for our parades. So for the next four months I did the “Adjutant’s Walk” from the right front of the ranks, diagonally to front and center, according to time honored tradition and protocol for such parades. My place out front was in back and to the left of the 1st in command. At the appropriate time I moved to the front and shouted “Attention to Orders of the Day”, shouted commands as left face, right face about face – to which the ranks responded as if wired to do so. The last command was to “Pass In Review” at which the band led out followed by the ranks of cadets. I became certain nobody paid any attention to what I said – it was all in the manner of how the commands and orders were shouted so they could be heard by the large numbers of people. It was a high profile job but would have counted for nothing had my grades or demerits gotten out of line.

We cadets were always aware of our special surroundings. In my case, my father was born in a sod house, his parents were homesteaders. I’d grown up during the depression, and though my father was a banker and perceived as well to do, we lived a frugal life as did all in our community. The Yale facilities reeked with tradition and we felt it’s immediacy. We had been drilling inside the spacious old quad and had paused to take a breather. Being the “drill instructor” I was standing separate from the main body – when I felt someone was standing at my elbow? I turned to look and it was Nathan Hale! I knew he was there from history books – sure enough it was Nathan, ever on duty for his country, standing as if a sentinel by the original main building inside the Quad. I saw the tack officer look at me with a puzzled expression – I smiled and said, Nathan took me by surprise. The officer nodded with an understanding smile – I called for the fellows to fall in and we continued. I don’t know what went through the minds of others but for me this was a very special place.

This phase moved very fast, yet at night before going to sleep, it seemed like an eternity. In civilian life we were not used to being confined, the cadet program had been very very confining.

Our class finally graduated in Dec of 1944. We had fitted out in new uniforms, were inspected and commissioned as 2nd Lts. It had been a long difficult struggle, we didn't feel like 90 day wonders, we felt proud we had made it. Most of the fellows were older than I, at age 20 I was next to the youngest, one a week younger – we were not yet able to vote.

Our final parting was a thing to remember. A group of us had gathered at the train station in New York. We were shipping out at various times and had several hours to wait. A business man putting on a dinner for a group of girls working for him invited us to join them. We were delighted and were soon paired with a lady at the dinning table, they were bright, delightful – and beautiful. Ever so often we would get up to “see someone off”. We fellows exchanged smiles, laughter and hand shakes parting with “take care, be seeing you”. The girl I was with commented, it’s obvious you fellows are very close. I said yes and explained what we'd been through together. She asked but where are you going to meet next? I said perhaps never, we are sure to be scattered all over. She felt that was so sad, almost unbelievable, from the way we parted. I said we all know we will probably never see each other again, we know there is nothing we can do about it, so we make the best of it, I'll be seeing you is a hope it might come true. I was among the last to leave, all the girls had stayed to see us off. When we looked out the train window to wave, they were smiling – most were crying. In a matter of a few hours we strangers had bonded to become personal friends. Their tears revealed how their feelings had been caught up by the event. As our train began to move I thought how sad it was, we didn't even know their names – yet they had touched our hearts too. Had we stayed some would have become spouses and have raised families. That's how it was. I only saw two of those fellows again.

Inside the B29

Pilot (Airplane Commander) Bombardier, between Pilot & CoPilot

Bombardier at Nordon sight Radar Operator at Radar Scope in aft compartment
The advent of Radar permitted bombing through cloud layers

left: Scanner using remote controlled sight, there were left and right side scanners
right: Central Fire Control in top position, he had master control of which remote guns connected to which scanner position

left side scanner bubble top side Central Fire Control bubble

Tail Gunners position, 20 mm gun

View from Flight Engineers window Flight Engineers console