CJ435_-WC

Chief of Seattle Crew by J Compton

[08-__-42] Long before day light one August morning, I watched “The Chief of Seattle” take to the air, from a landing strip, somewhere in the interior of New Guinea. Her hot exhausts looked like dim headlights disappearing.

"The Chief of Seattle" (a Boeing B-17E) the army’s well named Flying Fortress, was presented to the Air Corps by the people of Seattle, Washington.

On her crew were men from the 435th Bombardment Sqd, men that we all were proud to know. One of the 435ths best, if the 435th had a best.

Her captain was Lt Wilson L. Cook, a medium built, quiet, modest, Oklahoma boy. I knew him well; we learned to fly together, were room mates at Kelly Field and had been together ever since. He knew that this mission was dangerous, that it was important, important to so many. But as he lifted the huge ship from the narrow runway of this unsettled island that was so far away from his country and his home, he was not afraid. He never once thought of the dangers he’d meet. His thoughts were of what he had to do, how he would do it, help win the war and get back home. As I saw him circle away out of sight, I knew he’d be back if anyone could, for he was a veteran. He had flown this area and knew it by heart. He flew into Pearl Harbor on Dec 7 1941 and was in the Philippines, had flown 45 missions. He learned all he knew the hard way; and he had a good crew. He had lots of faith in each one.

His navigator was Lt Hubert Mobley, from Florida, a tall, lean likable boy, just out of school and into the war. A boy of 21 with navigation experience that few will ever surpass. He too had navigation experience that few will ever surpass. He too had approximately 45 missions to his credit, and was in the Philippines and his record was good.

His bombardier was in Hawaii when we received orders to go south. We were the first and we needed the best bombardiers. They gave us Lt Joe Cunningham. A well built, quiet boy from Travelers Rest, South Carolina. The Hawaiian Dept had not made a mistake. He was one of our best and had done his share in the Coral Sea Battle, New Guinea and New Britain areas. Dropping bombs on ships, airdromes and then shooting his way back home by manning a gun down in the nose.

His Co-pilot was Geo S. Andrews, a husky, likable, cheerful, well-mannered man from Brisbane, Queensland Australia. A man whose own home was in danger from the Japanese invasion forces. He was one of a very few who were selected from the Royal Australian Air Force, to learn to fly the American made Flying Fortresses. A man that his country and ours may well be proud.

S/Sgt Elwyn Rahier whose good gunnery had helped this crew our of many a close call, was the Aerial Engineer. He was an old hand and had a score to even, as he had been wounded at Pearl Harbor and returned to do his part.

T/Sgt Irving McMichael, the radio operator and gunner from Lincoln, NB had seen much of was as anyone. He was on duty in England, came back to the United States just in time to land in Pearl Harbor. He fought in the Philippines, New Guinea and the whole South Pacific.

S/Sgt Jno Dunbar, from Tujuga, CA, a big, husky boy always ready to fight it out with the Japs, and had already done more than his share. He was one of those fortunate enough to get out of the battle scarred Java just before it was too late, and in time to help out in New Guinea and New Britain.

Cpl Chas Hartman another gunner and radioman and another veteran from Java, had volunteered for this trip. He was a quiet country boy from Gettysburg, South Dakota, a young lad who had to learn how to fight the hard way. It wasn’t his flight, he volunteered for another who was ill.

Pvt David Beattie, young in the army, one of the first volunteers for a special radio school, wasn’t with us as long as the rest but in a short time had done so well.

Cpl Richard Pastor, a rough and ready boy with lots of whatever it takes, for an aerial gunner was from Lynbrook, Long Island. He was one of those boys that we received when we asked for the best that the Hawaiian Dept could give. And they gave us exactly that. He started in the was Dec 7, 1941 and had followed it since.

It was men like these that flew “The Chief of Seattle” out beyond friendly waters and far back of enemy lines, to bring back that ever important information. Exactly what was the enemy doing at Rabaul Harbor, was what this crew went to find out. They were always ready for the toughest missions. How little did they know what awaited them this morning. How little did I think this ship, that the people of Seattle had given, caring a crew that I knew so well, fading out in the distance over the Owen Stanley Range would not again return that evening; and the crew would not be talking and everyone laughing about their troubles or luck that they would have that day.

I waited that evening until long after there was no hope, long after I knew that their gas would be gone. They my hope was that they had landed somewhere on some other island and would be safe. Days, weeks and months have gone by. Nothing was ever heard. No radio contact was ever made. Where those brave boys may be or what their fates might be, whether lives have been spared we do not know. But of one thing we can be sure, that there are no greater men than those who give their lives in war that we may live ours in peace.