Category Archives: Stories

More Stories on Noble Peterson

  Noble Peterson served with the 358th Squadron of the 355th Fighter Group based at Steeple Morden in Cambridgeshire, England.  Noble flew two tours, the first in a P-51B, (Dakota Kid) and the second in a D model, (Dakota Kid II).  Known as the Morden Strafers, the 355th became renowned for their low-level attacks on German targets after being released from escort duties. 

 On one such mission while beating up a German aerodrome, Noble caught sight of a multi cannon antiaircraft emplacement nestled in among some hay stacks.  They were four barreled 20mm Flakveirling with an eight man crew.  What gave them away was the tell-tail puff, puff, puff smoke signatures of the cannons as they fired.  He noted the location of the gun emplacement as the group withdrew to the west.  He led his flight in the withdrawal at several thousand feet, all the time noting landmarks over which they were passing.  When they were some five miles from the aerodrome, he signaled he was taking another run, alone, reversed direction and got down on the deck following the landmarks back to the aerodrome, hugging the ground, rising to go over trees and buildings.  When he was less than a half mile from the hay stacks, he pulled up until he could clearly see the site, and then roared toward it in a power glide, unleashing his six .50 calibers into the target.  Dust and debris erupted from the haystacks and gun emplacement where the rounds hit.  As he passed over the site he took a quick glance down over his shoulder and caught a fleeting snapshot of what his hundreds of half inch bullets had done to the gun crew.  That single terrible image was seared into his memory the rest of his life.

      Some of Noble’s most precious memories was using his war plane to save lives.  He always flew his machine very carefully, never slamming the throttle open and closed.  Other pilots were constantly opening and closing their throttles to keep in formation.  Noble made throttle changes slowly, by degrees, and leaned his mixture on cruise.  He always got back to base with much more fuel than the others in his flight, even though they had flown virtually the same distance.  It was because of this that many times he could remain airborne much longer if the need arose.  

  One such time was the late fall of 1944.  Noble was returning with his flight over the English Channel when they heard a mayday call of two planes running out of fuel somewhere north of them.  Noble looked down at the cold, cold Channel and thought how miserable it would be to be in that water.  He checked his fuel supply and, like usual, he had enough to stay airborne for awhile longer.  Flying north he reached where the planes had been and caught sight of two parachutes descending about a half mile apart.  He followed them down and anxiously watched as they were able to get in their small rafts in the rough seas.  While keeping an eye on both rafts, which was hard to do in the heavy swells, he called Air Sea Rescue and was informed a launch was on its way.  Noble checked his fuel supply.  His two wing tanks had fuel left as he began flying a figure eight course between the two and called Air Sea Rescue again.  The launch was still 20 miles out.  He leaned the mixture as much as possible and stayed on station.  At the altitude he was flying, if he ran out of fuel in one tank and the engine quit, he would be in the drink before he could recover, so every 15 minutes he would gain some altitude and switch tanks to keep from running one tank dry.  He continue his vigil.  Another call to ASR; still ten miles out.  Grab some altitude, switch tanks again.  Finally, in the distance, he saw the launch bucking the waves but was on a course that would miss the pilots.  “ASR, are you in contact with the Launch?”

  “Yes!”

  “Have them correct their course!”  The launch turned toward the rafts.  Noble stayed until the pilots were safely in the boat.  One last pass resulted in exuberant waves from all on board.

  He got back to Steeple Morden several hours after the others and missed out on the debriefing.  Hungry and tired, he caught a bite and hit the sack.  Just another day in the Eighth Air Force.

 Many years later Noble started reminiscing about his time in the service and the men with whom he served.   His memory also drifted back to those two pilots he had last seen after they were pulled from the Channel.  He wondered, “Did they survive the war?  Where are they now?  If it could be possible, it would be great if he could visit with one or both of them.”  He had forgotten the date the incident happened, and he hadn’t written it in his log.  Having gotten back after debriefing it wouldn’t be recorded in Squadron records, either.

  Noble made some phone calls and inquiries and finally was directed to a lady in Hawaii who had the records of all the Air Sea Rescues conducted from the English Isles. (This was before the internet) Calling the lady, Noble related the incident but couldn’t nail down a specific date.  The lady explained that thousands of flyers had been rescued during the war and to find one particular event without a date or names of the individuals involved would be very difficult.  Noble offered to pay the lady for her time to search the records.  The lady declined, it would be just too hard to accomplish.  Disappointed, Noble realized it was not to be.  

Noble and his crew chief……

When Noble first met his crew chief, he didn’t know what to expect of this young 19 year old, Robert Coleman.  Would this kid be able to keep his P-51 flying?  Robert Coleman proved himself admirably.  His P51 was always excellently serviced and ready to go when called.

  One day he went to Noble and asked if it would it be OK to paint Long Island Kid below the exhausts on Dakota Kid II.  Robert Coleman was from New York.  “What could he say?”  Noble flew the plane but Robert kept it flying.  It was just as much his plane as Noble’s.  And so, Long Island Kid was also added to the cowling.  This is the only time known that a crew chief was acknowledged on the plane’s name or artwork.

  One thing Noble didn’t find out until many years after the war was at a Group Reunion. Robert Coleman told him that every morning he would check the board to see if Noble would be flying that day.  If not, he would go out and pull the cowling to make it look like it was being serviced.  Sometimes when readying for a mission a plane might have a sudden mechanical problem.  In such cases the pilot could grab any other plane that was ready but not going on that mission.  Coleman didn’t want anyone flying his plane but Peterson!  He knew that many pilots were rough with their airplanes and Robert didn’t want them near his Dakota Kid.    

 

Babies…….

  One of the innovations that enabled fighter range deep into Germany was the wing drop tanks, or “Babies” as they were popularly known.  Metal tanks were first used but in a war economy where metal was in limited supply and the tanks were commonly jettisoned after use, pressed paper tanks were developed to be used instead.  Filling of the tanks took place immediately before the mission, because if they were filled beforehand, the pressed paper would absorb the fuel and would begin to get soggy and the tanks would droop over an extended period of time.

 Noble related that take off was always done using fuel from the fuselage tank right behind the pilot’s seat and continued until that tank was about half empty, then fuel would be taken from the drop tanks.  The reason for this was the Mustang handled much better if the fuselage tank was not full. Thus, it was advantageous to run fuel out of that tank first. 

  One day a new young pilot was assigned to Noble’s flight. This was his first official mission, a deep penetration escort into Germany.  Take off, as usual, was from the fuselage tank, and when they got over the Channel Noble reminded his flight to switch to drop tanks.  When the tanks were empty or nearly empty far into the Reichland, Noble ordered his flight to drop their “babies.”  They did and the new guy’s plane jumped!  He had released 2 full drop tanks!  In all the excitement of his first mission he had forgotten to switch to the drop tanks.  Now what!  Here he was, that far into Germany, with very little fuel left.  There was a very good possibility of having to bail out and becoming a POW.  OK, Noble radioed,  “Turn around and reduce power, start gliding back toward England.  When you get down to a thousand feet, just apply enough power to stay airborne.  I’ll escort you and try to take on any German planes we may encounter.”

 They took care to avoid populated areas or known flak sites.  Noble advised the new pilot to keep his speed just above a stall.  It was slow going!  Amazingly the trip was uneventful, and they were not even shot at as far as they knew.  They did get shocked stares from some German soldiers that were marching down a road, but no one even bothered to shoulder their weapon.  They even received friendly waves from German farmers working in the fields.  It was sure a good way to get a beautiful tour of the German countryside. 

  Finally, they reached the Netherlands and breathed a little easier.  By no means yet were they out of the woods as Holland was still occupied. Still, there was an active resistance that would help you if you dropped in providing the Germans didn’t get to you first.  The fuel situation was holding, and Noble started to think they might even be able to reach the Channel.  “How’s your fuel?”

  “I’m still showing a few gallons.”

 “We’ve crossed the Dutch coast,” Noble radioed his Newbie.  “Shoot for England?”

  “Yes. Not much left, but….” 

 When they crossed the English coast, Noble and his charge breathed a relieved sigh.  “Hell, we’ve gone this far, let’s try for home base.”  They made it.  The ground crew said there was nothing more than a few gallons left in his tanks.  This showed how fuel efficient the Mustang was if you knew how to manage it.  If the same thing had happened to a P-47, they probably would not have gotten out of Germany.     

       After the war, Noble went home, started ranching, and raised a wonderful family.

 

 

 

Armand Haugstad, Elmo Hanson, self sealing tanks

2nd Lieutenant Armand Haugstad of Columbus, North Dakota was a navigator with the 389th Bomb Group based at Darwin, Australia during World War Two.

On August 17, 1943, B-24 bombers from the 389th Bomb Group flew the marathon mission to the Balikpapan oil refinery in Borneo. This refinery provided the Japanese with half their lubricating oil and 60 percent of their aviation fuel. This mission would take the bombers round trip of over 2600 miles and last more than 16 hours.

Haugstad was on the B-24 named PUG when they bombed the refinery and tankers anchored in harbor through a curtain of anti-aircraft fire thrown up by the Japanese. PUG was hit and a raging fire in the right-wing root was the result. The situation did not look good with 1300 miles back to base. The burning bomber could blow at any minute and preparations were made to bail out over open water, far from any possibility of rescue. Just before the pilot ordered the crew out of the plane, a miracle happened. The fire decreased and finally went out. Inspection upon landing showed the plane was saved by its self-sealing gas tank.

Little did Armand know that he owed his life to his one-time neighbor, Elmo Hanson, of Wildrose, North Dakota.

Elmo, born in 1900, ended up getting a doctorate in physics and chemistry, had become lead scientist with Firestone Tire and Rubber Company in Akron, Ohio. Hanson was the inventor of the type of fuel bladder that would seal itself if punctured. On January 21st, 1941, Elmo filed on the patent for self-sealing tanks. These fuel tanks could self-seal even if punctured by large caliber rounds and saved countless airmen over the course of the war.

Japanese planes did not have the luxury of self-sealing tanks and were called flaming coffins by their crews.

Armand Haugstad survived the war, married and raised a family. He went on to be a math teacher and taught at Minot High School for many years. Haugstad passed away in 1997.

Elmo Hanson continued his work at Firestone, unfortunately passing away at the young age of 56 while developing the Firestone 500 tires. So noted was his work and patents for the company including the self-sealing tanks that the Harvey Firestone family financed all the further education for his two children.

Ray Wicklander Navy Helldiver Pilot

Raymond  G. Wicklander was born in 1921, in a log home seven miles east of  Washburn, ND, on his grandpa’s homestead.

Ray graduated from the Washburn High School in 1938 and went to college that fall in Minot for basic courses in engineering .

The next fall, Ray went to the Agricultural College in Fargo for mechanical engineering. While in Fargo, Ray got the opportunity to learn to fly through the civilian pilot program.

When Ray came home that summer, a neighbor had purchased a Curtis pusher airplane but was afraid to fly it.  Ray was told he could fly it as much as he wanted and he spent many enjoyable hours flying that pusher plane around the Washburn area.  One time he was giving a friend a ride when the three cylinder engine blew out a spark plug.  The plane lost power and lost altitude.  Ray quickly found a place to land and set the plane down.  They put in a new spark plug and started the engine again.  Problem was there was not a lot of room for a takeoff run.  They were in a small pasture but Ray figured they could get airborne before they reached the fence.  Ray told his apprehensive friend to get in the plane and Ray revved it up.  They got off the ground before they reached the fence but caught the tail on the top wire.  They were slammed down on the other side but then bounced back in the air again.  The rest of the flight was uneventful, but for some reason Ray’s friend never wanted to fly with him again.  (This plane still exists, it is owned by a collector in Oregon.)

In July of 1941 Ray decided to join the Navy to be an aviator.  Ray was told he would be able to finish his last years of college before he would be called up.  Pearl Harbor was bombed on December 7, 1941.  Ray was home for Christmas vacation when the call came to report to duty.  He would not be finishing college but found himself excited about the change of events.

In January, Ray took the train down to Minneapolis to start his training but with all the new recruits coming in they were full.  Ray then got on the train with some other recruits and went all the way to New Orleans on Lake Pontchartrain to begin Navy basic training.  The weather was beautiful and Ray felt pretty lucky not to be training in Minnesota during the winter.

After several months of basic, Ray began flight training.  The first trainer Ray flew was the “Yellow Peril”, a yellow biplane Navy trainer. The base on Lake Pontchartrain was very muddy and the taxi ways were covered with planks.  If you got a wheel off the planks you were instantly stuck.

Next, Ray went to Pensacola, Florida.  At Pensacola, on one end of the runway, off base, someone owned an elephant.  It was said that for the instructor to pass you, the elephant had to have its tail up as you took off, if his tail was down, you failed.

Then he was sent to Miami where he received his wings as a Navy ensign.   Here Ray flew the Brewster Buffalo, the small, underpowered, portly, Navy fighter that was found no match for the Japanese Zero.  The landing gear had to be cranked up and down by hand.  It had been relegated to training only. Ray practiced take-offs and landings on a circular air field with instructions from a landing signal officer to prepare for carrier operations.

From here, Ray went to Chicago. A coal-burning paddle wheel passenger ship had been converted into a training carrier called the Wolverine.  Passenger cabins were stripped off and a 500 foot flight deck built on top of the hull that sailed on Lake Michigan.  Ray practiced carrier operations with the SNJ North American Texan equipped with a tail hook.  The training of carrier pilots on Lake Michigan early in the war was necessary as both coasts were susceptible to submarine attacks from the Japanese and the Germans.

Ray was able to go home on leave for two weeks, married his sweetheart and had a short honeymoon.

Ray then reported for duty at San Diego where he started flying the Douglas SBD Dauntless Dive-bomber.  The Dauntless carried a crew of 2, pilot and radio gunner.  It carried an external bomb load and two forward firing 50 cal. machine guns, the radio gunner had a twin 30 cal. in the rear cockpit.   After a short period of training he was assigned to VB-26 (dive bombing squadron) of Air Group 26, which consisted of 3 squadrons, F4F Wildcats, TBF Avengers, SBD Dauntless’.

AG 26 personnel and planes were loaded on a jeep carrier to head for Hawaii. As luck would have it, the jeep carrier was so full, that some got to go to Hawaii on the cruise ship Matsonia with a bunch of college girls that had been stranded in the states since the bombing of Pearl Harbor.  Ray was one of the few who was able to make the trip on the cruise ship.   Ray lived like a king, food was great and he had the finest of accommodations.  Ray figured this Navy life couldn’t be beat!  And all those nice college gals!!  Ray met Mrs. Dagmar Cooke on the ship.  She was from the famous Cooke family in Hawaii. When Ray got to Maui,Hawaii, he and the other officers that had been on the Matsonia were invited to the Cooke mansion for a party.  After a good time at the party, Ray and another fellow who was also married decided to go back to base and let the single guys do all the dancing.  They didn’t have any transportation but thought they could catch a ride with someone. While they were waiting outside the mansion, a limousine drove up with Dagmar’s widowed mother-in-law and none other than Admiral Nimitz, Commander and Chief of the Pacific Fleet.  Admiral Nimitz had escorted Mrs. Cooke out for dinner and was bringing her back.  Nimitz asked, “You boys need a ride back to base”.  “Yes sir, we sure would”, said Ray.  Ray and the other fellow rode back with Nimitz and had a nice visit on the way although the conversation was thoroughly laced with “yes sirs” and “no sirs”.

Based at Wailuku, Maui, Ray trained with the Dauntless until finally they were loaded on the jeep carrier, Long Island, and headed with orders for Guadalcanal.  The Marines had a bunch of watch dogs contained in kennels for the trip.  These kennels were on the deck.  By the time they had reached their destination the dogs were all out of the kennels roaming the deck and the kennels were stashed with booze!  They first went to Efate and unloaded the Marines, dogs and the booze still in the kennels.  The Long Island then went up to Guadalcanal where Ray and VB-26 were based off Henderson field.

There were still some Japanese on Guadalcanal but there was not much trouble with them other than a sniper now and then.  Japanese bombers would occasionally fly in from Bougainville at night on harassment raids to drop a bomb or two.  Ray started flying raids against the Japanese and attacked Munda air field several times, even though there wasn’t much left there to bomb except for some entrenched soldiers and antiaircraft guns.  One memorable mission was a 600 mile flight up to Bougainville with drop tanks.  Ray’s skipper, Smiling Bob Beebe, couldn’t drop his wing tanks when they were empty and had to turn back.  When they got to Bougainville, Ray dived on a merchant ship anchored in the bay when a Zero got on his tail.  Luckily a VF26 F4F Wildcat shot him down before he could shoot up Ray’s Dauntless.

Ray spent most of 1943 at Guadalcanal flying missions against islands in the area.  Finally, Ray was sent back to the states on a transport and didn’t get much to eat during the trip. Ray, as an officer, got 2 meals a day that consisted of a small helping of reconstituted scrambled eggs and two slices of bread.  The poor Marine soldiers on the ship only got one meal a day.  The Merchant Marine crew of the ship ate like kings.  Garbage was placed on the fan tail every evening to be dumped after dark.  The poor Marines would go through the garbage to try to find something to eat every evening. Finally, the transport got to San Francisco.

Ray received several weeks of leave and caught the train home.  Early in 1944, Ray reported to a Navy base in San Diego and was assigned to VB-19 in Air Group 19 as a Junior Grade Lt.

Ray started flying the new Navy dive bomber, the Curtis SB2C Helldiver.  The Dauntless was too slow and the wings didn’t fold for storage on the carrier.  The Helldiver was a bigger and heavier plane than the Dauntless and took some getting used to.  The first Helldiver (SB2C-1) was underpowered and the pilots didn’t like them but later versions (SB2C-3) had a bigger engine and performed much better.  The Helldiver also carried a crew of two, pilot and radio-gunner.  It had an internal bomb bay and two forward firing 20mm cannon in the wings.  It also had the twin 30 cal. in the rear seat.  Air Group 19 consisted of three squadrons, F6F Hellcats, TBM Avengers, and the Helldivers.

Late in February of 1944 AG 19 boarded the Lexington and departed for Hawaii.  After arriving in Maui, Ray and the rest of AG 19 conducted training missions for the next several months.  Training for Ray consisted of dive bombing, glide bombing, navigation and gunnery practice.  They also trained in night operations.

Ray got his first full time gunner-radioman, Jerry Warnke. Up to this point, and while Ray was with AG-26, the radio gunners would fly with different pilots for every mission.

In June of 1944, AG-19 conducted refresher carrier operations from the USS Franklin.  Later that month AG-19 boarded the USS Intrepid for transportation to Eniwetok.  The Intrepid arrived at Eniwetok the last of June and the first of July AG-19 transferred to the USS Bunker Hill to practice carrier operations.

By July 10, 1944, AG-19 was permanently stationed on the Lexington and conducted its first combat missions against Guam.  The last of July, strikes were conducted against Palau.

Aboard the Lexington was Admiral Marc A. Mitscher, commander of the Fast Carrier Task Force, the Lexington served as his flagship.  When they first got on the Lexington one of Ray’s squadron mates, Lt. Wallace Griffin, was walking around the ship just taking things in.  He found himself on the carrier island near the bridge on one of the observation decks high above the landing deck. There was an older fellow sitting up there wearing a baseball cap and a khaki uniform with no rank.  Wallace took him for a reporter and started causally visiting with him about the wonderful view they had up there. Wallace was mortified to later learn that he in fact had been visiting with Admiral Mitscher himself!!  The rest of the squadron forever after gave Wallace a bad time about being buddies with the Admiral.

During the first part of August, strikes were conducted against Bonins, Kazans and Iwa Jima.

The last of August was spent rearming and re-supplying at Eniwetok.

September was spent flying strikes against Peleliu and the Philippines.  During this time Ray and his gunner, Jerry, flew many strikes against Japanese ships and ground targets. Most missions, Lt. Ray Wicklander flew right wing in a 3 plane formation led by VB-19 Skipper, Lt. D. Banker.  Left wing was flown by Lt.  Bill Emerson.

In late August, Emerson was hit during a mission and had to ditch in the ocean.  Emerson and his gunner were rescued by the submarine, USS Shark and were with them for about a month until early October.  The USS Shark was reported lost with all hands on Oct. 24, 1944.  The Shark was never found and bodies of the crew never recovered.  Japanese records, after the war, suggest the Shark may have been depth charged by a destroyer east of the Philippines.

On one mission, Ray dived on a Japanese transport ship and his bomb did not release.  The other planes in the formation dropped their bombs, hit the ship and sank it.  On the way back, Ray asked for permission to use his bomb against a Japanese radio station on the south east side of the island of Formosa.  Ray obtained what was described as a beautiful direct hit, which went through the roof of the building and destroyed it.

On Sept. 13, 1944, early morning just before sunrise, Ray was in his plane with the engine running awaiting take off when they were ordered to cut engines and things were deathly quiet.  A plane was heard approaching the carrier in the dark, flying low over the water.  Every one held their breaths as the engine noise of the plane got louder and closer.  At the last moment the plane pulled up and over the Lexington, at the same moment releasing its bomb which passed over the carrier and exploded in the water on the other side.  Ray saw the red “meat ball” on the underside of the wing as the plane went over.  If that bomb had landed amongst all the planes sitting on the deck full of bombs and fuel, it would have been a disaster with much loss of life and perhaps the loss of the Lexington itself. After several minutes, engine startup was again ordered and after takeoff, Ray flew a strike against a Japanese airfield on Negros Island.  Ray dived on a concentration of 7 Japanese planes and destroyed or damaged all of them.

One mission, in October, after Bill Emerson and his gunner returned to the Lexington, Ray, Banker and Emerson dived on the main power plant at Lake Jitsugetsutan, Formosa.  Hits were obtained on the main power building and covered the plant with smoke and debris.  Another mission destroyed the main dock facilities at Iloilo city harbor in the western Philippines.

One incident where Ray was to bomb some oil tanks at Cebu City in the Philippines, he was flying a Helldiver that just had a wing replaced.  The left wing was heavy and couldn’t be corrected with the trim tab.  Ray had to hold the stick over to the right to keep the plane level.  After pushing over in his dive on the target he went into a spin, pulled out and tried it again.  Spun out again!  Ray dropped his bomb in a glide and went back to the Lexington.  They found out the trim tab cables had been crossed when the wing was changed.

Early October the Lexington went to Ulithi to rearm and resupply.  Ray visited the famous Mog Mog island, was given two cans of warm beer and was told to have “a good time”.

In October of 1944, the largest sea-air battle ever, occurred in and around the Philippines.  The Japanese Navy planned an all-out assault against the American fleet.  The northern Japanese force had the last four surviving aircraft carriers.  The central force consisted of battleships (including the largest battleships that ever sailed, the Yamato and Musashi), cruisers and destroyers.  The southern force had the rest of the Japanese naval forces, battle ships, cruisers, destroyers.

On October 24, 1944, Ray along with Lt. Banker and Lt. Emerson were sent on a search mission near Luzon with a cover of Hellcat fighters.  They found the Japanese cruiser, Nachi, in Manila Bay.  Banker decided to try a glide attack on the Nachi but it sent up such a curtain of antiaircraft fire that they left it alone and continued their search for the main fleet.   The only thing they found in the rest of their search were two small Japanese freighters anchored near Mariveles at Bataan.  They glide-bombed the freighters and succeeded in sinking one of them while receiving some antiaircraft fire from Corregidor.  When they returned to the Lexington, Ray saw the USS Princeton fiercely burning and putting up a column of black smoke. Japanese planes had attacked the American carriers.  The carrier USS Princeton was hit with a bomb and ended up being lost.

Strikes from the Lexington and other carriers hit the central Japanese force.  The battle ship Musashi was sunk and the Yamato was damaged and many air battles ensued.   Air Group 19 shot down 60 enemy planes, most being credited to the Hellcat fighters .  The bomber squadron alone brought down nine planes which was pretty good for a big heavy dive bomber that had the maneuverability of a dump truck!

One of the pilots in Ray’s squadron, Lt. Stu Crapser and his gunner Jim Barns were on a search mission several hundred miles north of the American carrier fleet.  Late on the 24th they caught sight of the Japanese carriers.   Barns radioed the position of the carriers back to the fleet, then Crasper, knowing it was too late to launch a strike from the fleet, decided to take on one of the carriers all by himself.  Crapser dived on a carrier and in turn was attacked by Zeros.  Barns did his best keeping the fighters off their tail and shot one down.  Crapser and Barns were able to get back, but just barely.  Their plane was heavily battle damaged.

Early on the morning of Oct. 25th, 06:30 hours, Air Group 19 launched against the Japanese carrier force that was found about 100 miles north of the fleet.  Ray along with Banker and Emerson dived on the carrier Zuikaku and got hits on the flight deck.  These hits were followed by 14 more dive bombers with at least 8 more hits.  Immediately after the strike, the Zuikaku was rocked by two large internal explosions  and sank within several hours.  The Zuikaku was the last surviving carrier that had launched planes against Pearl Harbor almost 3 years before.  The other carriers were also hit and sunk that morning.

Another strike on the northern force was launched in the afternoon of the 25th.  Ray dived on a Japanese Fuso class battleship through a terrible amount of antiaircraft fire.  Ray’s armor-piercing-thousand-pound bomb hit the battleship just ahead of the forward gun turret.  The combined air and sea actions of Oct 24th and 25th decimated what was left of the Japanese naval forces and they were never again able to seriously threaten the Allied forces.

For his action against the Japanese aircraft carrier, Zuikaku, Lt. Raymond G. Wicklander was awarded the Navy Cross.

On Oct. 26th the Lexington spent the day refueling and rearming.  One of the fighters shot down a Japanese snooper plane.

Oct. 27th on standby off Leyte to support MacArthur’s forces if needed.

On Oct. 28 Ray went on a patrol to look for a PBY crew that had landed to pick up a stranded aircrew but the PBY had sunk because of rough seas. During the search, Ray spotted a Japanese plane, chased it for 40 miles but it got away.

On Nov. 5, 1944 Ray’s skipper, Lt. Banker led a mission that returned to Manila bay to attack the same cruiser they had tried to get on Oct. 24th, the Nachi. (Ray and Emerson didn’t fly this strike)  The formation dived and again the Nachi put up a lethal amount of antiaircraft fire.  Banker’s plane took a hit and crashed in the water near the cruiser.  The other planes completed their dives, hitting the ship with numerous bombs.  The Nachi exploded, broke in three pieces and sank within minutes.  The bodies of Banker and his gunner were never recovered.

Before the strike returned to the Lexington, the task group came under attack by a number of Japanese planes.  Ray and Bill Emerson along with a number of other pilots from VB-19 were on one of the catwalks on the carrier island.  They watched the planes coming in on the fleet with most of them being shot down before reaching the ships.  Several planes singled out the Lexington.  One was shot down then a second came hurtling down through the broken cloud cover.  A shower of antiaircraft fire was directed at the plane and it was hit repeatedly.  The plane came on and in an instant it struck the forward island structure of the Lexington.  The bomb the plane was carrying broke away and exploded, showering the side of the ship with fire and debris.   Ray was wounded with flash burns and shrapnel.  Bill Emerson and another pilot, Joe Williams, were also wounded.  Bomber 19 lost five pilots to the attack, Bob Parker, Chuck Fisher, Bob Smith, Bob Doyle, John Gilchrist and Francis Jackson were killed.  Altogether, 47 personnel were killed and 127 injured.  This was considered to be one of the first organized Kamikaze attacks of the war. The fires were quickly extinguished and wreckage was cleared off the deck in time for the returning Manila strike planes to safely land.

Ray, along with the other wounded, were taken below decks to be treated. Ray was given a shot to knock him out for pain while he was being treated.  Some hours later, Ray awoke and was in a dark room below decks.  After sorting things and trying to remember what happened, Ray swung his legs out over the bunk to try and get up.  His feet came down on a canvas bag. Looking around the room in the dim light he noticed the room was full of bags, FULL BODY BAGS.  Ray was able to get himself up to find other quarters.  Ray eventually was sent to the hospital ship USS Solace along with many of the other wounded. Ray was in a room with Emerson, Williams and a number of others that had been wounded on the Lexington.  They received a visit from none other than fleet commander, Admiral William F. Halsey.

Bill Emerson wrote about this incident……

The day after our arrival on SOLACE, 10 to 15 of us were ensconced in a cozy little officers’ sick bay, basically doing nothing more than comparing notes on where we were on LEX when it hit the fan. All of a sudden much hustle and bustle in the passageway, and through the hatch to our little convention pops the Bull himself. Halsey, that is! The next few minutes were a blur of him whipping around the room speaking to each of us occupants about our general health and welfare. As he was about to depart, he turned in the hatch and declared to all us has-been warriors, “OK men, thirty days leave and back at ’em, Right?” With that he was gone! One of his aides had not quite left the room when a response to the Bull’s declaration was forthcoming from a very seriously wounded Commander. The Commander may have been hurt, but I assure you his vocal cords were not impaired. The Admiral’s aide froze on the spot, but thought better of saying anything when he saw the fire on the eyes of the wounded Commander. The three striper verbalized his thoughts with the following immortal words. “That crazy son-of-a-bitch must be out of his Goddamned mind!” We never did find out if the Admiral heard the rebuttal to his broad plan for our immediate future. I don’t think the Commander really cared if he did. The Admiral’s aide, without comment, jammed on his hat and departed the area with the irreverent howls and roaring laughter beating on his ears.

The war was over for Ray Wicklander and he made his way home to continue his recovery and to see for the first time his little girl that was born while he was away at war. Ray’s gunner, Jerry Warnke, who was not wounded in the attack, stayed on the Lexington.  Here are some of his memories.

WARNKE: My memories of our tour of combat operations on the Lexington are probably unremarkable from most everyone else. I don’t believe I was ever really terrified of anything that happened (stupidity? naivete? ignorance? probably some of all three.) but am also sure that my blood pressure and pulse rates rose a bit when somebody told me what all those “black puffs” were! However, I was also informed not to worry about those “explosions” you can see, so I sat back and enjoyed the fireworks — knowing my fearless pilot would dodge all that crap they were throwing up to greet us! The old BP & pulse rate did elevate to record heights at Iwo Jima and over the Japanese fleet! Multicolored bursts all around us, and I swear I saw a kitchen sink go by close abeam! But the Mighty Wicklander never let them “lay a glove on us”! As a matter of fact, we came thru it all “untouched” except for a small dent in the middle of a prop blade. (Probably hit by musket fire from a rice farmer)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stew Bass, Avenger Pilot

IMG_0022Stewart Bass was born on May 25th, 1921 at Stevensville, Montana, in the beautiful Bitterroot Valley.Stew Bass went to   school in Stevensville and after high school, learned to fly Piper Cubs by way of the Navy V-5 program.    In 1941, Stew’s draft number   was coming up so he applied for both the Army and Navy aviation   programs.  One day he was accepted into the Navy and the next day the Army confirmation came.  Stew thought about it and decided he better go with the Navy.  If he failed Army flight training, he may end up as a ground pounder.  If he failed Navy training, on the other hand, he at least would end up serving on a ship.Stew went to pre-flight school at St. Mary’s College in California for three months of intense classroom studies.  Then he went to intermediate and advanced flight training in Pasco Washington, Naval Air Station, where he flew the N2S Steerman and SNJ Texan training planes.After that, Stew went to Corpus Christi, Texas, for advanced training and graduated as an Ensign and received his wings as a Naval Aviator in Oct. of 1943.  It was here that he was assigned to the Grumman TBF-1 Avenger and started training for combat.  The Avenger had an internal torpedo bay that   could carry a 13 ft. 2200lb torpedo or 1000lb to 100lb bombs as well as   rockets under the wings.  It had a 50 cal. Machine gun in each wing and a 50 cal. in a rear turret.  It also had a 30 cal. protruding under the rear of the plane in the radio compartment.    Stew loved flying the Avenger.    It was slow compared to the fighters and was called the “Turkey” by the other pilots.  The Avenger did its   job well and was a very tough airplane.    The Avenger carried a crew of three; pilot (who sighted and released the torpedoes, bombs and handled the two wing guns), gunner and radio/spotter man.Stew flew and got used to handling the Avenger at several bases on the west coast.Stew then went down to Okinaka, near Jacksonville, Florida.    It was here that he started practicing carrier operations.  They had built an airstrip out in the swamps that had a moat around it filled with water that served as a stationary flight deck.  12 pilots would fly out with 6 planes.  First one pilot would do   several landings and takeoffs by direction of a landing signal officer using   signal flags, then they would change off and the other pilot would do his.  Stew had finished a series of takeoffs and landings, and switched with the other pilot so he could do his.  Stew was down in the “tunnel” of the Avenger when it took off.  The plane had just cleared the ground at full power when the prop shaft failed.  The Avenger come down hard and hit the bank of the moat and bounced across the water and crashed into the sugar pines on the other side, tearing the wings off.    The 30 cal. machine gun in the rear of the tunnel flew off its mounting and smashed into the radio over Stew’s head, just missing him.  Stew smelled gas and struggled out of the plane along with the other pilot, fearing the wrecked plane may explode.  It was at this time that Stew realized he had a badly injured foot and ankle.    The other pilot escaped with scrapes and bruises.Stew ended up recovering for two and a half months in a Navy hospital, his foot and ankle had been severely broken.  All the other pilots Stew had been training with went on and were assigned to units headed for combat in the Pacific.After his recovery, Stew trained some more in Florida.  Finally he was assigned to a training unit based in Glenville, Illinois and practiced carrier operations on a small training carrier in Lake Michigan.

After the invaluable training he received in Illinois, Stew was finally assigned to Air Group 9, a veteran unit just back from operations in the Pacific.  Stew ended up with Air Group 9 at Pasco, Washington, where he previously had done his air training.  Air Group Nine (consisting of TBM Avengers, SB2C Helldivers and F6F Hellcat fighters) was reorganizing with new crews being assigned.  More training was in store for Stew with this unit at several other bases on the west coast.  Stew had his permanent crew assigned to him, Howard Wrede was his gunner and Elmer Fenzau, his radio operator.  Finally personal of Air Group 9 was sent to Hawaii on a carrier full of men and cargo.    More training was in store for them in Hawaii, practicing night operations.  From here they were loaded on a jeep carrier and taken to the Admiralty Islands in the South Pacific.  They were unloaded at a small island called   Ponam for several more weeks of training.

Air Group 9 started its tour aboard the Lexington and participated in missions attacking small Japanese held islands in the area, then the Lexington, along with numerous other carriers and support ships, steamed toward Japan.

 

On February 16th 1945, Stew flew a major combat mission over none other than Japan proper and Tokyo.  This mission was part of the first naval strike against Tokyo from a carrier force.  Air Group Nine hit an aircraft factory just   inland from Tokyo.  This combined strike was done to minimize opposition to the Iwo Jima landings on Feb 19th.  The Avenger was designed as a torpedo bomber to be used against ships but they mostly carried bombs.  Almost all the missions Stew flew was carrying conventional bombs against ground targets (as they did in Tokyo) and for bombing enemy supply ships.  After the Tokyo strikes, the Lexington sailed for Iwo Jima and Air Group 9 participated in strikes supporting the landings, Feb. 19 to 22.  Air Group 9 then flew further strikes against the Japanese home islands, particularly on Okinawa.

 

The Lexington was badly in need of an overhaul and returned to the States.

Air Group Nine transferred to the Yorktown.

 

During the middle of March, Air Group 9 flew strikes against Okinawa and surrounding islands from the Yorktown.  It was during this period that the Japanese started launching hundreds of Kamikaze attacks against the Okinawa task force.  The Yorktown had many close calls during this time.  On March 18th it was struck by a bomb that tore a large hole in the flight deck and exploded on the hanger deck, killing five men and wounding 26.  The brave and efficient deck crews had the ship ready for landings and take offs in just a few hours.

One time Stew was in his plane waiting to take off when the five inchers started to fire, then the 40mms, then the 20mms.  This was the worst place to be during a Kamikaze attack, stuck in the cockpit of a plane on deck with a bunch of other planes loaded full of bombs and fuel.    Stew hoped he could launch before the ship was hit but time was running out.    Every gun on the Yorktown was now firing at a lone Japanese plane that was headed right for the carrier.  The tracers could be seen making direct hits but the plane still came on.  The plane passed over the flight deck about 50 feet in front of where Stew sat in his Avenger.  Stew could see the Japanese pilot was dead, slumped over in the cockpit as it flew by.  The plane missed the deck but its tail section caught on the deck catwalk and railing, violently throwing it down into the water right next to the ship, the explosion throwing water and debris up on the deck.

 

Stew flew many strikes in preparation of the landings on Okinawa.    Air Group Nine’s fighters, F6F Hellcats, flew cover for the Avengers.    During one strike, Stew witnessed a terrible midair collision that killed Stew’s Commander, Byron Cooke.  A Hellcat that may have been hit by ground fire, slid in too close to the Avengers and sheared a wing off of Lt. Commander Cooke’s plane, sending it crashing to the ground.  The Hellcat also hit the ground and exploded.

Cooke along with his crewmen, Norm Brown and Matty Matthews were killed and the Hellcat pilot, Lt. Fred Fox, was also believed to have perished.

Several days later Lt. Fox was picked up off a reef near the island by a float plane from the USS San Francisco!  Fox had been thrown, uninjured, free of the aircraft when it crashed.  He made his way to the western beaches of   Okinawa and hid in a cave for 3 days until he found a small boat and rowed   out to the reef where he was rescued.

In early April the huge battleship Yamato, (one of the two largest battleships ever built) cruiser Yahagi and eight destroyers made their way out of Japanese home waters in a desperate move to attack the forces at Okinawa.

The Yamato had just enough fuel for a one way trip.  She was to run herself aground near the landing beaches and unleash her large 18 inch guns on the landing forces.  Spotter planes sighted the ships heading south on the morning of April 7, 1945.  Around noon the American fleet started launching their air groups from the carriers in sequence.  Air Group Nine was the last group   launched.  AG9 Avengers launched with torpedoes.  This is the first and last   time Stew would go into combat with a torpedo in all the missions he had   flown.  Dive bombers and torpedo planes from other groups had hit the Yamato, Yahagi and some of the destroyers.  The Yamato was listing some 15 degrees and the Yahagi was steaming oil.  The decks were badly damaged but their antiaircraft guns were still very active.  Other torpedo planes had made hits on the Yamato but the explosions had been repelled by the very heavy armor belt at the water line of the ship.  On the way to the target, Air Group 9 Avengers were instructed by radio to set their torpedoes to run deep to get under the armor.    This could be done in the air by the radioman.  Elmer Fenzau reached through an access hatch to the bomb bay and set the depth on the torpedo.  Air Group Commander Herbert N. Hauck, who was guiding the attack from above in his F6F then decided that of the 13 Avengers, 6 would hit the Yamato and 7 would go after the cruiser Yahagi.

Stew was one of the ones to hit the Yahagi.  Because the Yahagi didn’t run as deep as the Yamato, the torpedo had to be reset again!    Fenzau again calibrated it to run shallow.  Stew made a run through heavy antiaircraft fire from the Yahagi and accompanying destroyers and was able to send his torpedo into the side of the Yahagi.  This along with several other torpedo hits destroyed the Yahagi and it quickly sank.  One of Stew’s squadron mates figured it was too crowded around the Yahagi, veered off and made a run on one of the destroyers, made a direct hit and sank it.

Soon, after many bomb   and torpedo strikes, the Yamato exploded, broke in two, and also sank.  Four destroyers were sunk and 4, although damaged, were able to escape back to Japan.    (this was the last time aerial torpedoes were ever used in combat)

Stew’s Air Group 9 pilots and crews were believed to be the only ones to actually see both big ships sink.

This turned out to be the longest mission Stew and the other Avenger pilots flew, over 6 hours.  They were running very short on fuel by the time they   returned.  There were a number of planes from other carriers that ran out of fuel before reaching their ships and had to ditch in the ocean.

For this mission Stew was decorated with the Navy Cross.

Attention was turned back toward strikes against Okinawa, supporting the troops fighting on the island.  After the island was secured and airfields taken, Stew landed on the island with a message from the ship to the Marine   headquarters.  One of the officers on the Yorktown was an anthropologist in civilian life and asked Stew to try and procure a Japanese skull for him.  When he landed on Okinawa he passed on the request to one of the Marines.  In short order, the Marine handed over a bag that contained a fresh Japanese skull and some lye.    Stew flew the grisly artifact back with him and gave it to the Yorktown officer.

After completing over 70 missions, Stew and his squadron was shipped back to the States in late June, 1945.  Stew was home on leave when Japan surrendered.  The day the war ended, Stew was half a world away, fishing for trout in the beautiful Bitterroot Valley of Montana.

 

After the war, Stew returned to civilian life, graduated from the University of Montana, married and raised a daughter and son.  He spent 34 years with American crystal Sugar Co in Missoula MT, Denver CO and Fargo ND, retiring as Vice President of the Company and remaining in the Fargo Moorhead area.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Forgotten North Dakota Hero

North Dakota Rancher,Cowboy Poet and Author, Rodney Nelson, had an uncle named Orin Olson (his mothers brother).  Rodney never knew this uncle as he was killed in action during World War II in 1944 and Rod wasn’t born tell several years later.  Orin Olson was raised on a farm near New Rockford ND, was married and had a daughter that was born while he was overseas, he never got to see his little girl. Continue reading

Navy War Diary – Aleutian Front

My uncle George Sinclair (married to my mom’s sister Ella) served in the Navy during WW II as a Sound Man (Sonar) on the USS Casco III (AVP-12) – Sea Plane tender.  He was on this ship when it was torpedoed on 30 August 1942 with the result of 5 men killed and 20 wounded.  Quick action brought flooding to a halt.  Casco was beached and later salvaged.  Casco was floated on 12 September, and after emergency repairs at Dutch Harbor and Kodiak, she received a thorough overhaul at Puget Sound Navy Yard and returned to fog-bound Aleutian duty in March 1943. Continue reading