GH14P-HG

Col H. Godman Remembers:

Hawaii, Clark Field, Java, Australia; MacArthur & Kenney

This document was been extracted from information prepared by Henry Godman for his family and provided by Henry for incorporation in the 19th BG Assn history. DL 10-04-94.

CHAPTER 4

I had been at Langley Field, Virginia, for a little over three years and there came an opportunity to transfer to Honolulu. I put in for a transfer to my favorite place and not long afterward I found myself on the Army transport Republic.

It was a long trip from New York through the Panama Canal and up the west coast of California, stopping at Los Angeles and San Francisco. It must have taken a month.

The trip through the canal was very educational and one I really enjoyed. At Panama City, I met an old friend from Stanford, Jimmy Triola, who I swam against many times in college and NACC swimming meets. We had a good time talking Spanish and doing some shopping.

Upon arrival in Honolulu, I was assigned to Hickam Field, 23rd. Bomb Squadron as the operations officer. I was now a 1st. Lt and really felt good about it. I ran the squadron for the commander, Major "Blonde" Sounders. The big disappointment was that I was now going to fly B-18s, a slow twin-engined bomber that didn't compare with the B-17.

I immediately started a training program of dead reckoning navigation in all of its phases for pilots. It was not an easy course as most all of the legs were over water to distant reefs as small as a mile in diameter. I have a feeling now that this training came in very handy during the war when the pilots I had trained found themselves with a dead or injured navigator hundreds of miles from their base over the ocean.

Major Sounders was an officer I really learned to respect. He was a West Pointer and the coach of Hickam's base ball team. He later became a general in command of the 5th Bomb Group in the Pacific theater,

On April 29, 1940, my daughter Sandra Anne was born at Schofield Barracks. She was a beautiful baby and happy, as she had a loving mother and lots of attention. I hope that you Godman boys can meet her one of these days, and I think you will.

About this time in 1940 all squadrons of the 5th Bomb Group started to receive the new 2nd. Lts.. and I had to train them to be navigators and good co-pilots.

Life was really great and things were running along almost too smoothly, but in the background we heard the rumblings of war; Hitler was at war with all of Europe, and Japan was overrunning China and Korea.

Again I was in charge of the Norden bomb sights. The NCO in that section was a Tech. Sgt. John Wallach, a Judo "black belt" man. He offered to teach me the art of self defense. So we threw some GI mattresses on the hangar floor and we wrestled after work about three times a week. I worked up to a "brown belt" in a few months. He became my bombardier so we were able to continue in the Philippines.

In the Spring of 1941 B-17s started to arrive at Hickam. What a day that was for me. The B-17Ds were being ferried from March Field, California, by officers and men who would later become the 19th Bomb Group in the Philippines and with whom I would be associated.

Several, I think three, B-17s were assigned to the 23rd.. Naturally the pilots of our squadron had to be checked out in them. I was asked if I had any B-17 time and I told them that I had 365 hours in them. I didn't tell them that I had never made a landing in all that time, but after a few check rides, I was designated an "instructor pilot." It all seemed so easy and familiar for me.

Again, it was my job to check out the rest of the pilots in the 23rd. and to train them in overwater navigation even though we now had trained celestial navigators assigned. It didn't take long for our mechanics to learn the plane as they were really professional. I made up crews that trained together and stayed together. This was good for morale and gave them a feeling of unity and bonding together.

In the summer of 1941, I was asked to obtain nine sets of charts from the Navy for Midway Island, Wake Island, New guinea, Northern Australia and the Philippines. I was not to let them know why we wanted them or what we were going to do. The Navy wanted to know why and they refused to give them to me, so it took a high ranking colonel to obtain their cooperation.

In August of 1941, we were told that we were going to the Philippines. We were all excited and our morale was high. Didn't we have the best plane in the world to fly? We knew that war was coming, but what we didn't know was that many of us would be killed. We didn't think of that, in fact, it never crossed our minds.

Wives cried, and children didn't seem to understand that daddy was going away for a time. The excitement of the moment blotted out our fears but we knew we would miss our families, and we had no idea if or when we would return. We were in the military and we were trained to obey orders and like all government property, we were expendable!!

A provisional squadron was formed and designated the 14th. Bomb Squadron, Provisional. Major Emmett "Rosey" O'Donnell was the commander and the nine crews were made up of the cream of the 5th Bomb Group, the most experienced and professional. Capt. Colin Kelly was now the operations officer and I was the assistant. operations officer.

The day came on September 5, 1941 for us to leave and fly the first leg to Midway Island. Little did we know the part that that little island would play in the war. My crew was:

Henry C. Godman, Pilot

Robert S. Clinkscales, Co-pilot

Carl Epperson, Navigator

John Wallach, Bombardier

Junior Brooks, Radio and gunner

Herbert Weist, CrewChief/gunner

Norman Michelson, Gunner

James L-Coley, Gunner

We arrived at Midway Island in the late afternoon and refueled the planes. We had taken off at five minute intervals and we never saw another plane until we landed. All our navigators did a good

job.

I think the most fun we had on the trip was seeing the gooney birds trying to take off from the level ground. They seemed to run fifty yards, flapping their wings, before they got airborne. Seeing them land on the beach was just as funny. Sometimes they would just seem to crash. They were of the albatross family and were not designed for quick takeoffs. When airborne they remained aloft for days on end at sea. They had no fear of man so we could reach down and pick them up with no difficulty.

We made Wake Island the next day. I don't know if we rested a day or not, but take off for Port Moresby, New Guinea was set for about 11:00 PM in order to get us past Ponape Island, a Japanese mandate island and a fighter base, before daylight. Again, we took off at five minute intervals, I took off forty minutes later. That put me over Ponape at sun up. Our guns were loaded and we were ready for any attempt for the Japanese to intercept us, but none came. Later in the afternoon we passed over Rabaul City, New Britain Island which later became a Japanese strong hold and where one of my best friends was shot down with his whole crew. We made it into Port Moresby, New Guinea in the afternoon after passing over the Owen Stanley mountain range dodging thunder storms if we could. We rested a day and flew on to Darwin, Australia the next day and then rested another day waiting for weather reports to come in for the route to Manila, and Clark Field as there was a typhoon in the area.

On September 12, 1941 the squadron took off for the 2000 mile flight to Manila, at five minute intervals, with Lt. Godman bringing up the rear. We were given a good weather forecast which said that the typhoon that had been over Manila would pass and be out of our way by the time we were expected to arrive.

The weather was good until we got to the island of Mindanao. The ceilings kept getting lower and lower and we still had 600 miles to go! We were flying right above the water. I had my navigator, Carl Epperson, who is now with the Lord, stand beside me with maps in hand identifying the small islands as they loomed up out of the mist. If they were dead ahead, we went around them to the west, and eventually Epperson's finger on the map showed we were near the entrance of Manila bay.

We passed by Corrigador Island at the entrance of Manila bay and made a sharp left turn and followed the shore line of the Bataan Peninsula, as it pointed directly to Clark Field and Mt. Ararat. It was raining fairly hard but the visibility was more than a mile, and so we circled the field and saw the B-17s that had landed before us. Clark was a grass field then, and we landed without any trouble at all.

We piled out of the plane and were greeted by our squadron commander, and soon we were in a truck being shown our quarters, It was a historic flight for land planes on the route that we followed and later we were all awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross for our achievement. It was one of the few times in history of the U. S. Army Air Corps that a medal of that standing had been awarded in peace time.

We didn't think it was all that great, but the risks were present and professionalism was necessary to carry out that mission.

CHAPTER 5

The truck stopped in front of a house about fifty feet square raised up off the ground about five feet so that we had to go up seven steps to get in the front screened door. This allowed air to circulate under the house, making it cooler, if that was possible in the Philippines. The house was screened on all sides with a central core of a dining room, bathe rooms, and a sitting room and kitchen. Our sleeping places were on the screen porch that ran around three sides of the house. An army cot with a clothes rack beside it and my foot locker at the foot of the bed was my place. There was one huge closet in the central part of the house in which a small heating element was kept burning continually to hold down the humidity and the mold which would come on anything unless the item was kept dry or was in the sun outside. Even then, our clothes had that peculiar tropical smell,

I was quartered with five other officers with a house boy assigned to two of us to wash our clothes and to attend to the beds, etc. Oh yes, there was a cook too, and our meals were prepared and served to us in the dining room in the exact center of the house.

It was the custom to take a siesta after lunch and of course we stripped down to our shorts to stretch out and nap. Every day when I woke up, there would be a washed and pressed khaki uniform hanging on the rack with all the insignia in place ready for me. I told the house boy that he was going to wear out my clothes washing then so often and for him to stop it. He answered me that it was his job to do this and if he didn't he would be out of a job. I didn't say any more about it.

Although the house had a tin roof, there were woven palm branches or fronds woven in the ceiling next to the tin roof to act as insulation. Guess who lived up there? The ceiling was alive at times with lizards scampering around upside down. They were called geckos. They ate the insects and mosquitoes and were particularly active at night when we were eating our supper. I wondered what would happen if one would fall on our dining table.

The officers quartered with me were: Lt. Moe Friedman, Lt. Teats, Lt. R. S. Clinkscales, Lt. Weldon Smith, and Lt. Carl Epperson.

Our quarters were on the north side of Clark Field and faced the grass field. There were fake fighter planes made of bamboo and cloth parked right in front of our house. That was the worst possible place to put a decoy as any strafing or bombing run would put bullets into our quarters. There was even a bamboo and cloth B-17 to the left about a hundred yards away. You can see them in the pictures in the album.

Later, more of our possessions arrived with more uniforms to wear. Of course, we had to dress up in full dress whites for evening in case we had to go out or make an obligatory call on the commanding general or base commander.

We flew two or three times a week getting familiar with the island and landing at auxiliary fields on the coast to the west.

All this time there were rumors of bad relations with Japan and rumors of war, but we had no idea of how this rumored war would start or when. We relaxed on weekend visits to Manila to look, to shop, and to have a good time at the Manila Officers Club. We knew that there was a General in Manila named MacArthur, but we never saw him or heard much about him.

I think it was in late November 1941 that Japanese reconnaissance bombers flew down from Formosa at night and passed right over Clark Field and Manila. Our search lights attempted to pick them up, and I think on one or two occasions those huge lights did so. No fighter planes were allowed to go up and attempt to shoot them down. We were not prepared for anything like that. One night, they sent up one of our B-10 bombers to practice on. They did find it and kept it in the lights. The pilot got disoriented and spun into the ground from ten thousand feet. He didn't know how to fly instruments! All the crew were killed. We knew by this that things were getting pretty bad and permission was sought from General MacArthur to fly similar missions over Formosa and even drop some bombs, but of course, permission was denied.

About December 4th, Major Emmett O'Donnell, our squadron commander, asked permission of our group commander, Col. E. L. Eubanks, to take his squadron, the 14th.Bomb Squadron, to Del Monte airfield on the island of Mindanao, about six hundred miles south, for rest and recreation although there was little there for that. Major O'Donnell felt that war was imminent and that it was stupid to have all our planes on one field parked in neat rows making it easy for enemy bombers and fighters to destroy them. So off we went to Del Monte on Mindanao taking with us a bag full of clothes for a short stay and my golf clubs. I never got back to Clark

There was an officers club somewhere to the west of the camp and a golf course but I never saw them until much later.

We lived in tents with army cots an all the trimmings like mosquito nets. We ate outdoors from the army field kitchen on wooden benches. The chow wasn't too bad, but the meat was canned corned beef left over from WW I and fresh killed water buffalo. We passed through the chow line with our mess kits and the cooks would slop on large ladles of beans or potatoes and meat which was tough as a board. We had canned peaches for desert every meal. After the war I couldn't eat a canned peach, ever.

We did a lot of exploring in jeeps by driving around the country inspecting Del Monte's pineapple fields. Our washing was done in a creek running in a small ravine. We bathed in it too. A shower was taken under a five gallon gas can hoisted up on a tree limb. I got the creek water and set it in the sun to get it warm and then poured it in the can and quickly hoisted it up on the tree limb. Small holes had been poked in the bottom with an ice pick.

I soaped and rinsed in the minute the water ran out. By leaving the can in the sun for an hour we were able to have hot water for shaving with a razor. There were no electric shavers then and no electricity anyway. We were allowed to grow beards, but I didn't have enough hair to grow one anyway.

We communicated with Clark Field by short wave and telephone. On December 8, 1941 we heard that Clark Field had been bombed and strafed by the Japanese and that Pearl Harbor, Hickam Field and Wheeler Field in the Hawaiian Islands had been attacked with thousands killed and wounded. Since we were on the west side of the International Date Line we were bombed at the same time only it was Dec. 8, for us.

We heard that the damage to Clark Field was very serious and that hundreds of men had been killed and many B-17's had been destroyed. We were 600 miles south of Manila, we were not touched. My plane was immediately loaded with 500 pound bombs and I was immediately ordered to make an armed reconnaissance flight half way around the island and Lt. Schaetzel was to go the opposite way. We were to look for any Japanese naval activity around the island and attack. We saw none and landed back at Del Monte late in the afternoon.

Thus began World War II. We had brought our steel helmets and our 45 caliber automatics which we wore all the time. We dug fox holes near our tents and around the camp at strategic places where we could dive into them on a second's notice. The ravine where we washed our clothes was a good place to take cover in case there was too many men in a fox hole. On one occasion a man was shot in the behind as he dove over the cliff into the ravine. He wasn't fast enough.

On December 10, 1941, Major O'Donnell, Lt. Schaetzel, and myself bombed up and we flew in formation to Lingayan Gulf eight hundred miles north. There we saw a lot of Japanese destroyers and troop ships unloading supplies. The other two B-17s tried to bomb the ships below from twenty-five thousand feet, but they missed by a mile because the ships were always turning. The observers on the ships ordered the ship to change course when they saw the bombs come out of the bomb bay. Of course the ship was not there where the bomb sight predicted it would be. I saw this and decided to bomb ships unloading troops and supplies on the beach. After all, these were the troops that were going to invade and do the fighting--not the destroyers. I turned around and told Sgt. Wallech to drop on the ships tied up to the piers. We dropped right on target and turned inland. Our gunners in the rear told me on the interphone that we were being chased by about twenty-five Nakajima fighters climbing up to try and shoot us down. Our gunners could see them, so I gave Ol' Betsy full power and pulled away from them. We returned toward Clark to get gas but we were told not to land at Clark as it was to dangerous. I landed at a dirt strip and gassed up from a gas truck and later that night I flew back to Del Monte.

I flew back toward Clark the next day flying on Capt. Colin Kelly's wing. He was in the lead and as we neared the field, he was shot down by Zero's and I got out of there real fast. I saw the whole thing and it was tragic. I then realized that death could only be a matter of minutes away at any time. Again I flew to this abandoned air strip and gassed up from a GI gas truck that just happened to be parked in the bushes. We did the job in about thirty minutes as a bombing raid was in progress at a nearby naval base. The Jap bombers flew right over us. Again we parked the plane as close to the trees as we could and waited till night to take off for Del Monte.

The flight back was through a tropical front with much rain and St. Elmo's fire on the props and on the windows. The plane was outlined with fire and it startled some of the crew until I told them what it was. We landed at Del Monte just as daylight and had breakfast and a bath. What a day.

CHAPTER 6

After flying missions out of Del Monte field, on Mindanao, my parting gesture to the Japanese was to make a bombing run on the harbor docks in Davao where Japanese freighters were unloading. It was very early morning just before first light, and the lights were burning on the dock as I lined up. I told T/Sgt. Wallach to pick out the big fat freighter that was unloading supplies on the dock. There were Japanese fighter planes at the airport they had taken over, but this bomb run caught them by surprise, and we were not intercepted. I personally did not see the hit on the ship but Wallach said it was a direct hit. I did not circle or turn to look, but went full throttle south toward our destination 1500 miles away -- Darwin, Australia.

Later, some planes made the same bomb run on the shipping in Davao harbor and were intercepted by Zero's and a running fight began as the B-17s proceeded south to Australia with dead and wounded on board.

Several of us B-17 crews spent a week at Bachelor Field just south of Darwin living in one-man pup tents on the ground. The conditions were most primitive and we thanked God that it was not the rainy season. The nearest beer was in Darwin seventeen miles away, so as many as could stand in an army truck went there in the evenings. One night, my tent was pulled down around me as I slept by returning revelers. I didn't appreciate that one bit and I almost had a fight with Lt. Shorty Wheeless.

During this time we did what we could about inspecting the plane. The mechanics on the crew doing the maintenance on the engines. We did knock the plastic tail cone off Ol' Betsy, as we called our plane, and mounted a 30. caliber machine gun in the tail with 200 rounds of ammunition,. It was mounted very loosely so as to spray a cone of fire to cover quite an area behind us. There was no room in the tail for a gunner to aim and shoot the gun, so I suggested a thin wire cable be attached to the trigger. The cable could be pulled by either side gunner if a Zero was behind us. It worked!

In a few days we received orders to proceed to Malang, Java. We flew there and landed on a Dutch military field. It was not paved, but was all grass and mud. This was not good. I remember on approach that we were told to delay our approach a few minutes as a Jap strafing run was under way.

I don't know how many missions I flew out of Malang, but from the records made available to me, I was part of a large formation of bombers which flew back to Davao harbor and bombed Japanese tankers, cruisers and destroyers. Some were damaged and some were sunk. I told Sgt. Wallach to pick out a large oil tanker. We didn't have enough gas to fly back to Malang, but went somewhere else; I don't remember where.

I was asked in 1987 to remember all that I could about my B-17D 40-3097 because this plane was flown by other pilots and eventually flown to Melbourne, Australia. It was then named "The Swoose", half swan half goose, by Capt. Weldon Smith, because of the many repairs and parts put on it.

In Java I was promoted to Captain and was given a new B-17E, which had just come in from the United States. My new Capt bars were cut out of stainless steel by Monty Montgomery, our engineering officer and he gave them to me as a surprise. This plane had a tail gunner's position with two 50 caliber machine guns and a top turret just behind the pilot with two 50 caliber machine guns with a computing sight. On my first mission against the Japanese shipping, I felt the plane shudder without warning and the rear gunner called me on the interphone and informed me that he had just shot down two Japanese Zero's. The two 50 caliber machine guns in the tail came as a complete surprise to them -- what a surprise!

How that rear gunner got on my plane as a crew member is a story. Before we left Darwin for Malang, Java, this U. S. Army corporal from a tank outfit, came wandering up to the plane and asked if he could become a crew member on my crew. He said he was really bored and wanted some action. It just so happened that one of our side gunners had come down with a venereal disease and was in the hospital in Darwin.

I asked the man what he did in the tank outfit and he said he was the expert machine gunner on his tank and so I said okay and he immediately went to work on our very dirty guns He was the one who installed the machine gun in the tail of our plane.

He took off with us to Java and automatically he became AWOL (absent without leave) from his outfit. He went on all our missions and shot down two Zero's on his first mission. He was later transferred from the Army Tank Corps to the U. S. Air Corps officially and no harm came to him for his action.

Japanese fighters strafed the field every day and we lost planes as fast as they arrived from the States. I was riding in a crowed passenger bus going to the field one morning and just as we came to the edge of the field, here came a Zero strafing the new B-17s on the field. We all piled out of the bus in ten seconds and ran and lay on the ground. That Zero could have killed at least five B-17 crews in a hurry.

No records were kept from December 1941 to March 1942. The combat and maintenance records and forms we usually kept very meticulously before the war soon ran out, but we did the best we could,

Later, as the American forces regrouped in Melbourne, Australia, certain men sat down and wrote what they remembered and what they thought happened. Many medals were written up by buddies for each other. This really made me mad. Everybody was medal crazy.

The records were very bad. For example, they had my crew & I leaving Java in March 1942, but no record of us arriving! A few times old friends have asked me about a mission we flew to some target. I answered them that I did not remember. Fifty years is a long time to remember details, of a confused kaleidoscope of events where friends were being killed or wounded, and one did not know if one would be alive the next day -- killed or in some strafing run by a Japanese pilot. I do know that I was credited with over 300 hours of combat flying time. It's on the records.

Our morale in the 19th Bomb Group was very low in regard to any forthcoming help from the United States. They were all brave men and we flew every mission assigned to us as best we could, and without fighter support -- ever. My thoughts were that we were being fed into a meat grinder and that it was only a matter of time that we would all be killed, unless we fell back, regrouped and waited for reinforcements from the U.S.A. What I mean to say is that at no time, no definite tour of duty could be established, or how many missions had to be flown before reassignment to the States or go on leave. One flew until you were killed or wounded or taken prisoner. What we really wanted was help and fighter cover. All of these policies were later established when we had additional groups and combat fatigue set in. The original pilots sent to the Philippines were the best that could be sent. When they were sent back, most all the surviving officers became Colonels or Generals and the enlisted men went to colonels!

I did receive two more Distinguished Flying Crosses and an Air medal during my tour, but I don't know what for.

The Air Corps had to evacuate Java in early March of 1942 because we were losing our B-17s faster that they were being replaced. Dutch fighters were no match for the Zero, and there was no early warning system to tell when a raid was coming except for a native drum system which sounded when enemy aircraft were sighted, even as far away as one hundred miles. The drum code was relayed from one drummer to the next. The alarm could be passed a hundred miles in a matter of a minute or two! So, when we heard the drums sound, we knew that enemy aircraft had been sighted. The drums sounded like this: Boom---boom, boom. What a way to fight a war.

CHAPTER 7

Orders came to me to load all Air Corps enlisted men and officers available into my B-17E and take off for Melbourne, by way of Broome, Australia. This had to be about March 3, 1942, as I crash landed back in the Philippines on March 13th.

That B-17 was so crammed with mechanics and officers that men had to take turns sitting down!

I had the obligation to evacuate as many as possible so our men would not be taken prisoner and we would be able to operate effectively again. Suppose I had been without a plane and was left behind to be taken prisoner? I would have been mad as hell. There was no way I could overload the plane with passengers, it was only a matter of trying to get the center of gravity as close as possible to safe limits.

Our take off was about midnight. It would have been foolhardy to take off in daylight with so many men on board and risk interception. Men were crammed into the nose where Lt. Epperson was to navigate, there were men standing and sitting in the bomb bay, in the radio room, at the waist gun positions and in the tail gunner's position. I don't know how many were in the plane.

There was only one problem. The number two engine was not operating properly. I could not get full power, and when it went beyond twenty-five inches of manifold pressure it just wouldn't run. Normal take off power was thirty-six inches of mercury! It was a night take off for safety reasons. We didn't want to run into Japanese fighters with all these men on board. I was able to take off okay, but it was touch and go, and we had to go. We set a course for Broome, Australia where we landed on a dirt field near the town. The Japanese had been bombing the town and the Australian seaplanes in the harbor almost every day, and there were casualties.

We got into town somehow and got something to eat and put gas into the plane. My flight crew and I slept on a porch with no cover or pillow or anything, but we were glad to be alive and on our way to civilization.

The next morning there was an air raid alert and we all got into the plane and I lined up for take off. The number two engine was worse and for all intents and purposes it was no good at all, but it was better than a dead engine. As I started the takeoff roll, the plane veered severely to the left as the two right engines were pulling maximum power and I did not yet have rudder control. So I stopped the take off and taxied back to the starting point and tried again, only this time I lined up forty degrees to the right and didn't give the right engines full power until I had rudder control. This went better and we got off okay without going through the fence.

Later that afternoon we landed in the middle of the Australian outback at Alice Springs. We gassed up and I believe we spent the night again, I'm not sure, but we did get to Melbourne and reported in. I wanted to get lost where no one could find me for a few days and just relax. We were all assigned to hotels or Australian barracks. There were no American uniforms to buy so we wore Australian shirts and shorts.

As I related, I had been promoted to Captain and felt real good about it.

One afternoon, I was sitting in the lobby of my hotel when a military police sergeant walked up to me and asked if I was Capt. Godman. I said that I was. He told me to get my crew together and report to Laverton airport for a secret mission.

It was impossible to find them all, but I did find Lt. Epperson and Lt. Carlisle for my navigator and co-pilot. The rest of the story is in my book "Supreme Commander". We crashed in the ocean at night on Friday the 23th. of March, 1942.

After crashing, getting to shore, and getting back to Del Monte airstrip, I found out that my secret mission was to evacuate General MacArthur and his staff out of the Philippines and back to Australia. When the general arrived by PT boat, I made arrangements to see him and tell him of the circumstances of my being there and ask if my crew & I could be flown out with him. He said yes, and that I could work for him. When other planes arrived, I was assigned to MacArthur's plane and I sat up all night with him and his wife Jean and his little boy, Arthur. I told him as much about the war from the Army Air Corps standpoint as I could remember.

After flying out of the Philippines with the general, I started to work for him as his Air Officer. My job, I guess, was to educated him and his staff as to the status of the Air Corps and act as liaison with Air Corps Headquarters. My main job was to be the general's pilot.

Our first plane was a Dutch KLM airline DC-3 with over eight thousand hour on it. It was strictly fixed up for air line work, so we took out half the seats to make it more roomy.

I had never flown a DC-3 before, but somehow I learned where all the emergency controls were, and felt at home in it after a few circuits of the field. My first flight with MacArthur was to fly him to Canberra, the capital of Australia, to meet the Prime Minister. Other flights came in rapid succession to fly his staff to various parts of Australia to set up supply points and communications facilities. This was real fun and a lot better than flying combat missions; however, there were times in weather situations that I had to use all my skill and judgment to complete a safe flight because there were no navigational aids in the country. We used to call it the "Cold Sweat Factor" and other names I can't mention here.

Soon General MacArthur moved his head quarters to Brisbane, Australia and I moved with him. I soon gave up the Dutch airliner as the Australians had converted one of their new C-47's into a plush command plane with a Pullman bed, stove, and refrigerator. It was very nice, The Australian registration was VH-CXE, so it was natural to refer to the plane as Sexy. An Artist painted a beautiful oil painting of a nude woman flying in the wind on the right side of the nose where the embarking passengers could ;not see it, but some nut called Major General Sutherland's attention to it and he ordered me to have it removed. My pleading did no good. It was not dignified enough for MacArthur's plane and that was that.

Later in 1942, I was sent back to the United States to pick up a B-17 command plane for the General that had been extensively modified. The results of that mission is described in my book "Supreme

Commander".

I took a full crew back with me and we all got ten days leave as a result of the B-17 being further repaired at Boeing, Seattle.

The flight back to Australia was routine and the General was pleased with the plane when he saw it.

Later that year I flew MacArthur to Honolulu to meet President Roosevelt and all the navy brass to have the president decide who was to command the combined forces in the South West Pacific Area. The navy argued, but MacArthur won and become the commander of all armed forces in the theater. The rest is history. I was there.

After a time, an advanced headquarters was established at Port Moresby, New Guinea, and I flew the general and his staff there many times to the combat strips where fighters and bombers were taking off at all times of the day to bomb the Japanese.

I remember one time we landed at Seven Mile Strip and taxied the Bataan (the B-17) into a revetment. An air raid alarm sounded and the hundreds of soldiers and airmen who came to see Dugout Doug, as they called him, scattered like lightning and disappeared to take cover. The general just stood there not moving a muscle talking to General Kenney. I was there too, standing behind the general next to the plane. The alarm was called off in a few minutes and all the ones who ran away came back looking really ashamed of themselves. They had run for the dugout while the General just stood there unconcerned.

Later in the New Guinea campaign, he scheduled an air drop of an airborne regiment in the Markam Valley just west of Lae. The town and airstrip had to be taken. On the day of the assault, the General MacArthur, General Kenney and I transferred to a combat B-17 and we all observed the air drop looking out the side gunners windows as hundreds of C-47's dropped their troops, supplies, cannon, and jeeps. It was a sight to behold. General MacArthur had participated in a combat mission!

The town and airstrip were taken and Army engineers landed soon afterward and constructed a really good air base there.

The next assault would be to take Hollandia further to the north where the General would establish his headquarters just for a few months preparing for the invasion of the Philippines.

About that time I was transferred to Fifth Air Force headquarters under General Kenney and was assigned to the 90th Bomb Group (H) up north on Biak Island to fly some combat missions before being reassigned back to the United States. I asked General Kenney why I had to go back to combat. He said, "It has been a while since you have flown combat missions and when you get back to the United States, that is if you do get back, and they ask you when you last flew a combat mission, you can answer them and say, the day before yesterday, and they will respect you for it."

I packed all my belongings into one B-4 bag and flew up to Biak Island and reported in to General Crabb, an officer I had know at Langley Field in 1938.

I stayed with the 90th Bomb Group (The Jolly Rogers) for about a month and flew five or six missions, I don't remember exactly. The last one I will never forget as it was in a formation of over one hundred B-24's to bomb the oil refinery at Balikpapan in Borneo. We were attacked by about fifty Zero's for over fifty minutes going into the target and going out. I saw seven B-24's shot down in my formation. My top turret shot down one Zero as it passed directly overhead in front of us. A long burst of the twin fifties in the top turret set him on fire!

Word soon came that I could return to the U.S.A. and the next thing I knew I was on a B-24 Liberator bound for Honolulu. I then boarded a Boeing sea plane that took off from Pearl Harbor and cruised into San Francisco at about ninety knots. I was processed on Treasure Island in the middle of San Francisco Bay and given ten days leave. I was then to report to the Air Corps Instrument Flying School at Galveston, Texas to learn all the latest instrument flight rules etc. We didn't always go by the book in combat.