VF-9 was the first squadron to be equipped with the Navy’s newest fighter, the F6F Hellcat. Better in every respect than the Wildcat, it dominated the Japanese through the rest of the war. (U.S. Navy)
Chapter 11
Things were happening fast. The aircraft carrier Essex (CV-9) was commissioned on December 31, 1942. She was to be VF-9’s ship. Along with VB-9 in SBDs and VT-9 in TBFs, the Essex was to deliver VF-9 to the Pacific Theater for combat. Once there, we would strike out against the Japanese and would continue to strike out until the war was won. Between now and then, however, there was a lot of work to be done.
Probably the biggest item on our agenda—and the most anticipated—was the small matter of trading in our trusty but outclassed Wildcats for new fighters. To say we were excited would be a dramatic understatement. In the ready room there was almost nonstop discussion about what fighters we would get and when. The mood was perfect for the Christmas season; we were like kids who couldn’t wait for the big day.
For a number of reasons the Vought F4U Corsair was not yet considered suitable for carrier service. This disappointed some of us who had seen the big fighter earlier in the year. That disappointment was relieved somewhat by the announcement that we were to be the first squadron in the Navy to receive the new Grumman F6F Hellcat.
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It’s been often told that the design work on the Hellcat began after the attack on Pearl Harbor, in a hurried effort to build an airplane that could handle the Zero. In fact, work on the new fighter had started earlier in 1941, several months before America’s entry into the war. The Hellcat bore a marked resemblance to the Wildcat but was larger in every respect. At 11,400 pounds, loaded, it weighed almost two tons more than its older sibling. Its wingspan and length—42 feet, 10 inches and 33 feet, 7 inches, respectively—also made it noticeably bigger than the Wildcat.
Bigger doesn’t necessarily mean better. But the Hellcat, with its Pratt & Whitney 2,000-horsepower R-2800-8, 18-cylinder radial engine, was more than 80 miles per hour faster than the Wildcat. The Hellcat also had a range of nearly 1,200 miles compared to the Wildcat’s 800 miles. The added size allowed for a roomier cockpit, more armor plating, hydraulically operated landing gear and gun chargers, and 2,400 rounds of ammunition—nearly a thousand more than the F4F.
The Hellcat had a very large wing area—nearly 350 square feet—which contributed a great deal to its stability. The Hellcat’s wings—which rotated backward to save deck space on the carrier—were mounted on the fuselage at a minimum angle of incidence so as to create as little drag as possible. This ensured good range and excess power. To get an acceptable angle of attack and approach speed for carrier operations, though, the engine was mounted with a negative thrust line. That is, the engine was tipped forward a bit relative to the longitudinal axis of the airplane. As a result of these design characteristics, the F6F flew in a peculiar tail-down attitude while in level flight.
VF-9 was the first squadron to be equipped with the Navy’s newest fighter, the F6F Hellcat. Better in every respect than the Wildcat, it dominated the Japanese through the rest of the war. (U.S. Navy)
We got our first Hellcats on January 16, the same day that Louise and I were married. Jack Raby, Herb Houck, and Chick Smith flew the first three down from the Grumman factory at Bethpage, New York. These were F6F-3s, the first production model, of which more than 4,000 were built. Everyone in the squadron checked out on those first three aircraft while we waited for Grumman to build more for us.
My first flight in the Hellcat, on January 23, 1943, was an incredible experience. Being so much bigger than the Wildcat, it of course felt more substantial, more solid. The more powerful engine had a smoother purr to it as well. And everything was powered hydraulically. There was no more wrestling with the landing gear—cranking it up or down by hand and hoping not to bust a set of knuckles or break a wrist or crack a shin. As with the F4F, though, we still had to manually crank the canopy open and closed.
When I poured the coal to the big new fighter, I was amazed at how much power the engine produced. It seemed like the airplane just leapt off the ground; the takeoff roll was so short compared to the Wildcat’s. And once airborne, the Hellcat seemed to want to climb and climb and climb. Best of all, it was a dream to fly—so stable and much easier to handle than the Wildcat. Landings were a snap as well. The landing gear struts were widely spaced, so there was little tendency to ground loop on landing. This was a very welcome change from the little Wildcat.
As new airplanes became available, squadron pilots continued to travel to New York to bring them back. On February 2, 1943, eight or ten of us piled into an R4D Navy transport to fly up to the Grumman plant at Bethpage to pick up new airplanes. When we got there we found that only one airplane was ready to go. Jack Raby, with his exquisitely tuned ability to recognize an opportunity for a party, volunteered the junior ensign—me—to ferry the airplane back while the rest of them enjoyed a night on the town, courtesy of Mr. Grumman. I didn’t mind that much at all. After a briefing with the crew at Grumman, I climbed into the factory-fresh airplane and was on my way.
Along the way I stopped for fuel at Naval Air Station Anacostia, near Washington, D.C. The pilots there hadn’t seen an F6F before. The questions and envious looks I got further helped to take the sting out of missing a night in New York with the rest of the boys.
The folks at Anacostia weren’t the only envious ones. Some of our fellow fighter pilots in Norfolk wondered how we managed to be the first to get our hands on the F6F, since Raby was far from being the most senior squadron commander. The truth was, since we were assigned to the Essex, the first of the newer, larger class of carriers, the powers that be wanted us equipped with the newest fighters.
The VF-9 squadron patch. Light blue sky, orange-gold cat, white clouds and cat muzzle, red nose. (U.S. Navy)
The next month or so was a hectic time for everyone at VF-9. While I was busy learning how to “play house” with Louise, I was also training hard. We flew the new fighters several times a day, and our passion for them never wavered. Like all new designs, the F6F had a few teething problems, but for the most part it was simple to fly, easy to maintain, and very reliable.
Casey Childers very nearly fell victim to one notable exception to that reliability. He was ferrying a Hellcat back from Bethpage on February 5, when his engine quit somewhere over New Jersey. Try as he could, he couldn’t get it started again and ended up landing dead-stick, with his wheels up, in a grove of pine trees. Grumman’s penchant for overdesigning its aircraft saved his life. The rugged Hellcat plowed right through the trees. Casey crawled out unhurt and waved for the rest of the flight to press on.
All through February and into March we continued to get more airplanes. As we received enough to make it worthwhile, we began our tactical training in earnest—lots of formation flying, strafing, and gunnery flights. The F6F was extremely stable, and because of that it was a superb gunnery platform. I had done quite well in air-to-air gunnery with the F4F, but my scores improved considerably with the F6F.
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In late February we started getting ready for our carrier qualifications on the Essex. We did a lot of field-carrier landing practice and were again overjoyed with our new airplane. It was so stable that it almost flew itself in the carrier landing pattern. The proof was in the pudding on March 7, 1943, when we flew out to the Essex and made history. Each of us made our eight qualification landings with no difficulty whatsoever, and VF-9 became the first operational Hellcat squadron to qualify aboard an aircraft carrier.
VF-9 was building a solid relationship all during this period with the rest of the air group and the ship’s company of the Essex. This particular group of organizations and people clicked in a way that seldom occurs. The chemistry couldn’t have been better. Professionally and socially, the air group and the ship’s company enjoyed a very satisfying bond that would prove critical to our wartime successes.