It was during Allied drive on the enemy, in late summer, when the fighting reached its peak on the Burma Frontier against the Japanese strongholds all along the Arakan and Kaehin mountains. Our 7th Bomb Group was called to halt the vital supplies reaching the key enemy city of Moulmein, in the southeast lower part of Burma.

    The day was very hot, which kept the boys down to very limited activity such as playing cards, musical instruments, etc. Then came the gruesome wail of a siren, a call that made many hearts heavy and heave an unhealthy sigh. A low murmur could be heard as the lads headed for the briefing room to see if they scheduled for trip layed out for us.

    Groups scanned the bulletin board to see if their ship was going to make the hop. Some went away with smiles, others with lumps in their throats, for the party was for them. Yes, I was one of the unfortunate also. The camp hustled more lively for there were many things to be done. The first objective was to get our flying equipment and then head for the mess hall. For some it may be their last meal, but they don't eat very heartily as I have many times observed. On their return, you should see the appetites they have. The moods and tensions of the day explain that they'll tell you.

    Now to the briefing room we go to get the low down on the target we were to obliterate. It all concerns the enemies ack-ack positions, weather, our course, enemy fighters and exact position of railroad transportation (rolling stock).

    After receiving all the latest information, we climbed onto the waiting jeeps, 6x6 trucks and recon cars, to the stalls where our planes were parked. The engines already revved (warmed) by the ground crews as they made their final inspection. We climb aboard and again gave the instruments, guns and bomb racks the over all check.

    From the revetment areas the planes noisily, cautiously, proceeded to the apron for the take off at 1/2 minute intervals. As each left the earth, friends and comrades below waved us a parting farewell as we circled the field to get into formation.

    The date, October 20th 1943. The average time to make the trip was 9 hrs., 15 min. from previous times at the same target - Moulmein, the Hamburg of Burma, a hot and lively place next to Rangoon, the capital of Burma. Which reminds me of a saying we had, "Rangoon at Noon." We seemed to always get there at that time, so the Japs had to change their dinner hour to 11:00 a.m. or 1:OO p.m.

    We sailed along smoothly for 2 hrs., 50 mins., then all hell broke loose as the Zeros came darting from the blazing Burma sun. It was a story of heavy bomber vs. fighters, for the trips were too long for our fighters with their small gas capacity. We staved them off fairly well and kept them at a respective range until we approached the target. It was then we start sweating even though the weather was much below freezing. At 24,000 ft., it gets around 40 below. The odds against us made one get green in the pit of the stomach. Our small force of 28 B-24's against approximately 60 Zeros, Zekes, Haps, Tonys and Oscars.

    I've saw splendid coordination work from our crews to do a great job in somebody else's back yard, when the odds are against you.

    The flak was building up fast and the sky was soon spotted with black, mean, puffy clouds of the bursting ack-ack. The spitting cannons from the Zeros were shooting out green flames like angry dragons. So far the squadron was holding up very well against the repeated and pressing fighter attacks.

    The formation now opened the bomb bays. Most any moment the sound of the bombardier's voice would call out, "Bombs away!"

    The Japs dove into their own fire, which is an unorthodox method when ground fire vs. air is engaged, unless the priority of the intended target runs a triple AAA. The objective below us were the munitions ships, rolling stock and warehouses spotted with supply dumps, which the Japs hauled a long way, from their homeland.

    Over the interphone came the words "Bombs Away." Just then a burst of flack tore into our right wing. They had our range and it was getting mighty hot under the collar for us. Two more hits on the left side of the fuselage ripping gaping holes. Then our No. 2 engine gas line has been fouled. Suddenly the ship bucked like a bronco and dropped sharply. Our No. 3 engine was knocked out completely. The engineer's fast thinking brought No. 2 in working order by transferring gas from No. 3.

    There was no time to estimate the extent of the damage, for we were constantly menaced by the Japs and our lack of speed to keep up with our Group. We fell behind and the gap between the formation and us grew till they were out of sight. We still were under fire by four Tonys and Zekes and we continually lost altitude from the lack of power.

    The co-pilot said they hit our top turret gunner. It was futile to get an answer from him because his life was snuffed out. The pilot gave us our orders to hit the blue. We were at 8,000 ft. when our radio man gave us our last message. "We're 55 miles north of HeHo, head for the northern hills and God be with you." I secured my chest chute & jungle pack and waited for the waist gunner to bail out and I in turn would follow him. By this time the Zeros knew they had our number and attacked so close that the emblem of the Rising Sun seemed to singe your hair, or you could hit them with rocks. One after the other we tripped out the camera hatch, while others made escape through their respective escape hatch. We kept falling till the ground start racing before us, then we jerked our rip cords. The reason for the delayed jump was so the Japs couldn't have much time to strafe us as we descended. We took no chances on their kind of sportsmanship. About 3 miles ahead we saw two more chutes blossom, before I hit earth. My waist gunner had been about a mile from me the last time I saw him. We tried in vain to work our shroud cords to draw closer to each other, but it proved in vain. I landed among some heavy brush and bruised myself considerably, plus a number of scratches.

    Before settling down to earth, I made a visual inspection of the terrain I was to make my march out of. The time was 3:35 P.M. A lot depended on my choice of direction with only a few minutes to memorize the landscape, for I knew it was my last look. My first thought as whether I'd meet up with the waist gunner and that it would be very unhealthy to stay there and wait for him for soon the Japs would send a patrol out in search for us, so I hastily bundled up my chute fearing a patrol from HeHo,(a Japanese air field only 35 miles away) So I made tracks. I used my compass from my money belt, and headed north, praying to God I was striking in the right direction. I traveled about 8 hrs., before I even gave myself second thought about resting. Progress was steady but often interrupted by many elements which was to my dismay. Thru heavy brush, large enough to call small trees, insects by the score always buzzing around you and feasting when you stood still for a single moment. The under growth was getting thicker and gradually closing the daylight out, showing just streams of grey light that vainly broke thru the heavy foliage. Now and then a ray of sunshine would, find. its way into the damp smelling growth of jungle rot. Sometimes you could smell five different odors from the steam stenched earth. Using my jungle knife, from my jungle pack that had almost every thing imaginable for just such emergency, I hacked myself a shallow hole and spread sheaves of bamboo to act as a tress and used branches from cocoanut trees as a shelter from above.

    Wrapped in my parachute as a blanket and my pack for a pillow I lay there weary and tired but unable to sleep for countless fears swept thru my mind. The noise of branches rustling, occasional animal prowling about, Jackals sending their weary cry to its mate or a pack in quest for food. The birds, too, had something to say as well as the Insects who were the worse of all. Life in the dark jungles was by no means silent as one would probably expect. I finally fell off to sleep thru sheer exhaustion I believe.

    October 21. Before the break of dawn, I was rudely awaken by a gibbering lot of monkeys who seem to be running away from some unseen, object that I later detected was a group of native hunters. I remained quietly until they passed. I didn^t move for at least 15 min. to make sure they were well beyond, me, for the density of the Jungle enabled me to keep a visual sight on them., I had feared them to be Jap patrols at first and held a sweating grip on my 45 automatic for instant use. I now prepared to start on my precious item of all, it was 3 large bars of vitamin D chocolate. Each bar contained 12 squares and I was to depend largely on that for my energy of survival. Hunger had already antagonized me, so I ate one square per meal, at that rate it would surely last me 12 days and I figured on other means to help me carry on. I traveled again till late noon, and prepared my self a resting berth, before night fall. Now I took all the added protection my mind was able to supply me with. It was the mind over matter plus nature and a clever jungle fighter the Japs.

    Firstly I had some heavy flying equipment to get rid of then soil one side of my chute with mud and green dye from the leaves and rid myself of excess weight. Each time before getting ready for retiring I'd dig a shallow hole and before leaving it I would always spread the branches and leaves about so no one could realize that a camp site had been in use. It was mostly covering up traces of human existence, in case of Jap patrols running across it and pick up a lead.




STORY IS INCOMPLETE