While the crews had been training at Langley Field, Lt. Clayton L. Bissell, advance officer for the First Division, was gathering data to prepare for the flight down the Aleutians and found out how difficult his job would be. He received a seventeen-page set of instructions outlining what he would have to do before leaving for Alaska. He was to confer in Washington with U.S. Coast Guard and Bureau of Fisheries personnel and also obtain suggestions from the eight fliers about what would be needed to expedite their passage through the Aleutians. He would next proceed to the Fairfield Air Intermediate Depot, near Dayton, Ohio, to discuss shipments of supplies. Afterward, he was instructed to visit Oakland, California, to interview Capt. C. E. Lindquist, a trading-ship skipper who had sailed the Aleutian and Kurile islands for many years. This was an important meeting because “this section of the route is far removed from the regular route of travel and, on account of its barrenness, very little information is available on these islands from any of the sources which have heretofore been searched.”1
Bissell and all the other advance officers were instructed to arrange for their own transportation to cover the flight’s scheduled stops through their respective divisions. This would be especially difficult for Bissell. He was to go to Seattle and then to the Aleutians to make arrangements at all the planned stops for the flight: from changing the wheels to pontoons at Seattle, lodging for the fliers at each planned stop, and locating emergency stops, to investigating personally the harbors where landings were planned and arrange for the placement of 500-pound anchors and buoys in the harbors. He was also to have emergency rafts made at each location, arrange for small boats to be available, clear the harbor of small craft for the landings, and have ramps constructed on the beaches so the planes could be pulled up to allow the wooden pontoons to dry out. Fueling facilities had to be arranged, local representatives, guards, and interpreters interviewed and selected, and communications set up. Bissell was further instructed “not to overload the flight commander with information until he needs it.”2
Lt. W. E. Gillmore in Washington wrote Bissell a personal letter with detailed information about steamships on which he could book passage. The trip from Seattle to Seward and Unalaska, he wrote, was relatively easy but the rest was a different story. The distance from Unalaska to Attu, the last island in the Aleutian chain, is about 1,000 miles, through heavy seas, Gillmore said, and “there are three or four revenue cutters that cruise around the Alaskan Peninsula and the Bering Sea that make their headquarters at Unalaska. Perhaps you might persuade one of these boats to take you and your supplies to Attu.” He continued, “You undoubtedly know that Attu is wholly without means of communication with the outside world. The last station you will find with radio facilities is Unalaska.”3
Bissell learned that the population of Attu was thirty-five native-borns and that Frederick Schroeder, a trapper of blue foxes, was the only white man there and the only person with a house–-and he might not be there when the fliers reached the island. He ran a store “but cannot be depended upon to furnish provisions in other than very small quantities, and only the necessities at that, so it might be well for you to take as many provisions as possible with you.”4
Before Lt. Clifford Nutt left the Philippines for Japan, he learned that Lt. Col. L. E. Broome, the advance officer for the anticipated flight of British Royal Air Force Squad. Ldr. A. Stuart MacLaren, had been visiting facilities in the Far East in March and had provided much information about Japan and the Kurile Islands to the American embassy. The availability of fuel and oil would be a vital requirement where landings were anticipated and the Vacuum Oil Company agreed to have its representatives around the world cooperate wherever they had facilities. Petroleum supplies would be shipped on coastal steamers to Alaskan stops and, when necessary, on a U.S. Coast Guard cutter.5
Lieutenant Nutt was in Tokyo by mid-January 1924 and was sent instructions similar to Bissell’s but with special information about the Japanese stops. He learned that the Japanese military leaders did not want the fliers to make as many landings as had been planned. Since the political situation in Japan was still sensitive, Lieutenant Colonel Fechet’s letter informed Nutt to “make clear that we have no military motive in making this round-the-world flight other than the training of personnel, testing of equipment, and such incidental motives.”6
“The point to bear in mind,” Fechet noted, “is that we must land as soon as we reach Japanese territory in view of the long hop from Attu Island and the fact that we cannot land in Russian territory. The selection of the stops should be made with the important consideration in mind that flights of over 500 miles are very undesirable and, in fact, impossible for continuous flying on consecutive days, due to the fact that 500 miles is nearly seven hours’ flying, at the end of which time three or four hours must be consumed in servicing the airplanes. All of this work must be done during daylight. Such a continuous strain on the personnel would obviously be very detrimental to the success of the flight; furthermore, it will be practically impossible for the flight to obtain accurate reports of weather conditions 500 miles in advance, which means it desirable that the hops be shorter than this and that, in any case, emergency landing harbors be provided so that, in case of running into bad weather, it will not be necessary for the flight to return to the last main stop, thus losing important time, not to speak of the strain on the personnel and the wear on the equipment.”7
Nutt was also reminded that the time element in making his arrangements was urgent and that the flight should pass through his division to India as rapidly as possible to avoid the typhoon season. He was instructed, as were all advance officers, to “take steps to curtail entertainment, explaining to the local authorities that it is absolutely essential that the flight be expedited and entertainment which would tire the personnel, should be dispensed with.”8
Fechet cautioned Nutt not to spend too much time checking out emergency harbors. One of them was Akkeshi, which the Japanese strenuously objected to as a possible emergency field. Fechet said, “This objection might be removed if it were understood that we were using pontoons entirely through Japan and making no land landings.”9
Lieutenant Nutt later informed Washington that the Japanese were going to station a destroyer at Kashiwabara Bay on Paramushiru Island in the Kuriles and would have fuel and oil on board. They would not allow Nutt to be on board, however, so he would have to hire a boat to take him to Kashiwabara at great expense. The U.S. Navy meanwhile completed plans to assign two ships to the Yellow Sea during the passage of the flight through Nutt’s division to “guard passage and furnish a radio chain.” They would patrol and be available for rescue purposes and communications from the initial landing in Japan to Shanghai; two other ships would be placed on patrol at points farther west.10 The Navy also agreed to have four vessels assigned to patrol the North Atlantic for that portion of the trip. All patrolling Navy ships would have on board aviation fuel and oil for the Cruisers.
The advance officers were advised to use discretion in answering inquiries from the news media involving diplomatic, military, or commercial relations between the United States and foreign countries. The Japanese at this time were still hedging about allowing the flight to land on the route that had been requested through Japan and it was feared that they might renege and refuse any landings at all.
“Just bear in mind the importance of getting the flight through Japan in as few days as possible,” Nutt was instructed by committee chairman Brown. “It will probably devolve upon you to negotiate with the Japanese authorities that flights of over 500 miles are very hazardous and undesirable. All important matters should be handled by cable to this office. Anything you recommend will receive serious consideration and immediate action as we want you to know we are behind you in everything you do.”11
Brown added, “the British are pretty well worked up over our flight and are planning to beat us if possible, making a race of it. They intend to leave the same time we leave Seattle.” Brown said there were two prizes at stake: one, the crossing of the Pacific first and the other, the completion of the World Flight.12
While the world’s newspapers were calling the preparations for world-girdling flights then being made in England, Argentina, Italy, and France a race, the urgency to make the schedule of a departure by 1 April from Seattle was being felt by the American planners. The U.S. Navy was also planning to upstage the Army Air Service publicity-wise by sending the dirigible Shenandoah to the North Pole to capture that much-prized aviation “first.” Flown on her maiden voyage on 4 September 1923, the Navy airship was touted as the latest proof that its air arm was worth the high appropriations requested and that powered lighter-than-air ships had a potential far superior to its rival service. Obsessed with the need for publicity, Rear Admiral William A. Moffett, first chief of the U.S. Navy Bureau of Aeronautics, boasted six months before the Shenandoah flew that this untried lighter-than-air behemoth would cruise over all of America’s principal cities and fly around the world, as well as over both poles.13
A preliminary Navy expedition was to sail from Seattle for Alaska on 16 February 1924 to prepare a mast and ground facilities for that flight. A Navy pilot named Ben H. Wyatt bragged to St. Claire Streett that soon after their arrival at Nome, he intended to hop from there to Russia and thereby be the first aviator to fly across the Pacific, bringing that honor to the United States Navy.14 But President Coolidge canceled the Shenandoah flight as not worth the cost.
Maj. William R. Blair, the meteorological officer, was given orders to proceed with his equipment from McCook Field to Seattle and on to Unalaska on board the U.S. Coast Guard cutter Haida. The cutter would provide a valuable communications link with Nutt in Japan, stations in Alaska, and headquarters in Washington. Companion ships, Algonquin and Eider, would join the effort. When it was learned that the commercial coastal steamer Starr on which supplies and extra pontoons were to be shipped to Seward and Unalaska was too small, the Coast Guard volunteered to take them on one of their cutters. General Patrick immediately acknowledged this gesture, saying, “Due to the utter lack of transportation facilities of any kind over a great part of this section of the route … it would have been highly impossible to attempt this flight without assistance of the U.S. Coast Guard.”15
The U.S. Navy was also gearing up to assist the flight. The commander of the Asiatic Fleet radioed Naval Operations in Washington that the destroyers USS Pope and USS Ford would arrive in Yokohama on 6 April 1924 and proceed to the Kurile Islands. In addition the USS Truxton, USS Perry, USS Paul Jones, and USS Pillsbury would patrol the Japanese area of flight and arrive in Yokohama on 15 April 1924.16
While the logistic and government arrangements for their arrival were being made around the world, the crews flew the four planes individually over a ten-day period beginning on 5 March to the Rockwell Intermediate Air Depot at San Diego to have their compasses swung. Each pilot had difficulty with the engine during the flight and immediately requested that new engines be installed. Nelson was especially concerned that he would not make it all the way. He flew the 125 miles at 8,000 feet in order to look continually for landing fields. The engines were changed because of valve clearance problems and the pilots were extremely concerned about their chances of completing a flight of more than a hundred miles. If the rest of the 35 engines that had been overhauled at McCook Field had the same difficulties, the flight would end sooner or later in disaster.
Major Martin sent a short progress report to General Patrick when he arrived at Clover Field from San Diego. He told about the engine problems and forecast that the first three ships would leave Clover Field, Santa Monica, on 17 March for the flight north to Seattle; the fourth (Nelson’s) would follow later.
Possibly fearing criticism from Patrick about any stories in the press about his seven bachelor crewmen having a wild time, Martin explained: “It has been impossible to control publicity excepting to a limited extent. Every effort has been made to limit the amount of entertainment but we find that it has been much less a strain to accept the appointments which had been made for us by Lt. [C. C.] Moseley prior to our arrival, than to attempt to refuse all engagements. Being in the atmosphere of Hollywood, we have had some rather unusual experiences forced upon us, some of which have been rather embarrassing at times. They savored of a lack of appreciation of the dignity of the service. It is hoped that if some of the pictures which have been made when screen stars have been asked to be guests with us at some of the luncheons and dinners given in our honor, they will be accepted as not detracting from the dignity or seriousness of the mission to which we have been assigned, as it was felt by those planning these entertainments that this was a distinct compliment to the members of the flight. Of course, the cameramen have taken full advantage of these opportunities. The people of Los Angeles are wildly enthusiastic about our mission and have extended to us every possible courtesy. The Wills-Sinclaire automobiles and one Rickenbacker have been at the disposal of the members of the flight while in the city. These have been most useful as without motor transportation, we would have been quite helpless on account of the great distances to be covered in the performance of our duties. I am writing a letter of appreciation for these services. Every effort is being made to discourage prearranged entertainment in Sacramento, Portland, and Seattle. As to how successful this may be I am unable to say. We will be very thankful and happy when the flight leaves Seattle, with the nose of the planes ever pointed westward.”17
Many airmen of those early days about to embark on an adventurous flight carried some lucky charms with them. On the day they were to leave Santa Monica, two stuffed monkeys were presented to each of the fliers. “If, after the flight, the monkeys are safely delivered to their California owners, the aviators will be paid $50 each for their trophies,” Martin told a reporter.
“The owners expect to raffle the pair, the money to be donated to charity. Another unique gift was presented by a Los Angeles man. It was a $5 bill, with his name written on it. He said he would also pay $50 for its safe return. A chap from Chicago gave me a little bronze image that he said he had carried for good luck. After I took it I noticed good luck had not prevented the fellow from losing an eye.”18
The three planes departed Santa Monica on 17 March as scheduled but ran into low clouds over the Tehachapi Mountains so they had to zigzag through the passes. “I signaled to Lt. Smith to take the lead of the formation which he did,” Martin reported later, “and with his accurate knowledge of the mountain formations, he led us safely through the passes.”19
They arrived at Mather Field, Sacramento, after 4 hours, 30 minutes of flying. They were met by the mayor and a crowd of several hundred. The crews immediately serviced their planes and were taken to town where they were guests of honor at a dinner sponsored by the Chamber of Commerce. They intended to fly to Portland, Oregon, next morning but the head winds were so strong that Martin decided they should fly instead to Eugene, Oregon. After an hour’s flight they were only forty miles from Sacramento, but pushed on and the wind gradually lessened. Wade had to make a forced landing at Cottonwood, Oregon, to fix a water leak in the radiator and bent the plane’s tail but the damage was not sufficient to prevent taking off when the leak was fixed. Martin decided not to land to risk damage to the other two planes and he and Smith continued to Eugene, a flight that took more than six hours. Wade and Ogden arrived three hours later and had to have a cross brace on the landing gear welded by a local worker. Again they were met by most of the city’s prominent leaders and a larger crowd than at Sacramento, followed by a Chamber of Commerce dinner. It was a pattern they were to experience many times in the weeks ahead despite their fatigue from flying.
The three planes left late next morning for Vancouver, Washington, and were intercepted by five Curtiss JN-4s from the Vancouver Barracks Airdrome. Waiting for them was a large crowd from the cities of Portland and Vancouver. Vancouver’s Mayor N. E. Allen had declared all government offices be closed to free the employees to go to the field. The Vancouver Prunarians, a civic organization that reflected the importance of the county’s prune industry, were on hand in uniform.
The fliers motored across the Columbia River to Portland for a luncheon where they were all presented with bouquets of roses to remind then that they were in the City of Roses. They intended to leave that afternoon for Seattle but after an hour’s flight, the ceiling dropped to less than 500 feet so Martin led the formation back to Vancouver for the night. That evening they received word that Nelson and Harding had flown for 9 hours, 45 minutes directly to Eugene from Santa Monica. Anxious to catch up, they followed a railroad at low altitude for the last 75 miles through fog and rain. Martin notified Nelson to join the flight at Vancouver if weather permitted but it did not. The other three departed Vancouver the next morning and arrived at the Air Service’s Sand Point Field on the shore of Lake Washington by noon. Nelson landed there two hours later.
Once more they were met by local dignitaries including the state’s lieutenant governor and Seattle’s mayor and were motored into the city for a luncheon. Lt. Theodore J. Koenig, the field commander, had made arrangements for their lodging at the College Club in Seattle but the fliers did not want to waste the rest of the day. It was here that the planes would trade their wheels for pontoons and prepare for the long flight down the Aleutians. They returned to Sand Point that afternoon to begin the installation of the pontoons, and protect the metal parts with a no-oxide oil and spar varnish to protect them from the salt water and harsh weather conditions they would experience. A wharf had been constructed for the pontoon installations.
The men worked on their planes for the next three weeks. Engine and cockpit covers had to be made; propellers had to be changed to gain more power for the coming water takeoffs; maps needed to be assembled; and metal parts had to be continually oiled to prevent corrosion. Survival equipment was selected. This included a rifle, ammunition, a Very signal pistol and colored flares, fish hooks and lines, some concentrated food, a first-aid kit, a sixty-pound sea anchor with rope, and spare engine parts.
The limiting factor was that the total weight could not exceed 8,200 pounds and everything was weighed to the ounce. With this in mind, each man had to limit himself to two changes of underwear, fur-lined flying suit, cap, and gloves, two wool shirts, two pairs of breeches, one pair of hunting boots, handkerchiefs, a safety razor, toothbrush, and an automatic pistol. Although parachutes and life belts had been included on the original list of equipment, they were eliminated because of their weight and the space needed to include them. Nelson had to limit his personal items because as the flight’s engineering officer, his plane also carried a variety of other items: a bridle sling for lifting a plane out of the water, bracing wire, gasoline hand pump for servicing the plane from a boat alongside pontoons, cans of clear dope and shellac, radiator no-leak compound, blow torch and soldering iron, extra pontoon port-hole wrench, waterproof glue, heavy canvas, small sheets of aluminum and plywood for patching pontoons, and a selection of bolts, nuts, cotter pins, and tape. The others joked that Nelson was ready for pleasure or shipwreck.
All the crews spent much time providing compartments and arranging the items for easy retrieval. The tools, spare parts, and standard utility supplies for the depots were specially packed and labeled at the Fairfield Intermediate Depot so that any tool or part needed could be readily located. The boxes themselves were waterproofed and made of ash, spruce, and plywood that could be used for emergency repairs. Carpenter tools for working the wood were sent in the tool chests. Tubing and other items that could not be bent readily were packed with the propellers in lengths of six feet or more. The weight, cubic contents, and dimensions of every article were carefully considered, and about 480 separate items were sent to each depot. All supplies that were being distributed to the various depots were scheduled to be in place at least a month before the Cruisers were scheduled to arrive.
The preparations took up most of their days but the citizens of Seattle would not let the fliers rest when a day’s work was over. They were invited to dinners where Fred Martin usually delivered a talk about the preparations thus far and the route they were to fly after leaving Seattle. Arnold and Schulze, the alternate pilots, arrived from Washington and filled some of the speaking engagements.
General Patrick forwarded instructions that the planes were to be christened on 27 March in formal ceremonies and be named after four important American cities located on the four points of the compass. The pilots could select these cities and the planes were to be referred to by these names for the rest of the flight. The pilots drew names out of a hat in the order of their rank and date of rank. Martin named his plane Seattle out of sentiment for his home state of Washington and it was christened by Mrs. David Whitcomb Jr., wife of the Seattle Chamber of Commerce president. Mrs. Auwilda Connell, wife of Air Service Capt. Carl W. Connell, christened Smith’s plane Chicago. Wade’s plane was christened Boston by Mrs. Millard F. Harmon, wife of Major Harmon of the Air Service, while Nelson’s was christened New Orleans by Mrs. Theodore J. Koenig, wife of the Sand Point Airfield commander. Martin assured Patrick that the beverage used for the christening was pure water from Lake Washington “in accordance with the spirits of the times.”20 The names were promptly painted in four-inch letters on the nose of each aircraft.
On the night of 2 April, President Coolidge sent a message to the fliers:
More than 400 years ago men first navigated the world. Two years were required, in which many hardships were encountered. Now men travel around the earth by land and water in twenty-eight days. You are going to demonstrate the practicability of making such a voyage by air. Before another 400 years this may be the safest and most comfortable way. Your countrymen will watch your progress with hope and record your success with pride.
As the crews had been getting ready to depart, Tech. Sgt. Arthur H. Turner developed a severe cold and lung trouble and felt too weak to continue. Lowell Smith immediately chose Lt. Leslie Arnold, one of the two alternate pilots, to replace him as the mechanic on the Chicago.
“No man was ever more astonished than I when I found that I was to go along,” Arnold said. “For months I had been assigned to the World Flight, but merely as an alternate pilot. I never dreamed that there would be the remotest chance of my actually going, because I thought that none of the pilots was likely to fall ill.”21
Takeoff was planned for 4 April 1924 and a large crowd had gathered. The weather, however, was reported stormy all the way to Prince Rupert, Canada, the first stop, and did not clear up until the next day. There were cheers as Major Martin taxied away from the mooring marker, faced into the wind, and pushed the throttle forward. The others waited patiently for their leader to become airborne. As he gathered speed, there was a loud noise and the propeller began to vibrate. Martin immediately cut the throttle and taxied back to his buoy. The others cut their engines and waited to see if the problem would be solved quickly. It was not.
The tip of the Seattle’s propeller had been damaged from the water spray and was removed, repaired in the shops of the Boeing Aircraft Company and reinstalled. The next day at 8:45 A.M., Martin taxied out and took off, followed by the Chicago and the New Orleans. They made a climbing turn to gain altitude, then flew down the lake, across the narrows, and out over Puget Sound. The planes were full with the maximum load of gasoline, but the Boston was too tail-heavy and couldn’t break the surface tension of the water. While the others continued, Wade taxied back and helped Ogden unload their rifle, a small anchor, and extra clothing. They adjusted the stabilizer slightly, taxied out hurriedly and made a smooth takeoff, an hour after the others.
Wade flew solo to Prince Rupert through thick fog and a dead calm. “I flew right down on the water so glassy that I was constantly fearful of slapping the surface,” Wade said. “I used the tree line on my left as a guide and followed it for a long way. In skimming over Johnstone Strait, we almost collided with ships twice. Later I learned that the three planes ahead of us had experienced the same floating hazard.”22
The four planes were finally headed on one of aviation history’s most daring flights. No one had crossed the Pacific Ocean before and some critics predicted that no one ever would, especially the eight who chose to fly down the Aleutian chain in frail machines of wood, wire, and cloth into the teeth of the infamous williwaws that brought heavy fog, face-stinging sleet, and extremely high winds. The fliers were aware from their contacts with the public that there were some who did not believe they had even a remote chance for success. Others were wagering that not more than one of the four planes would get all around the world when it seemed that the delays before they had all departed was only the beginning of the kinds of problems they would face as they headed down the treacherous string of islands noted for their unpredictable storms. But the eight men who volunteered for this epic flight were on a mission for their country and felt duty-bound to do their best to complete it.
Lt. Leslie Arnold recorded his impressions in a notebook after the takeoff of the Chicago:
As I look down on Lake Washington and Seattle and see them growing smaller and smaller behind us, I keep wondering what the people in the streets are thinking.… I wonder how many of us will get all the way around.…
Visibility is only fair this morning, but above the haze that half veils the earth the summit of Rainier stands out as clear as crystal. No wonder the Indians call it Iahuma, the mountain that is God. I saw Lowell glance back over his shoulder at it several times, and I’m sure the memory of its grandeur will inspire us all the way around the world. This undertaking somehow makes you feel the presence of the Ruler of the Universe as you have never felt it before.23
Lt. L. D. Schulze, the other alternate pilot, returned to Washington after the planes were airborne and made a report of his observations and recommendations to General Patrick. He noted the type of pontoon installed on the planes was very vulnerable to leaks and recommended future ones be made with two layers of plywood separated by a layer of waterproof canvas and then the whole wrapped in canvas. He was particularly critical about the condition of the four engines that had been removed at San Diego. They were “certainly not of a quality demanded by a venture of this importance, even though intended for a short flight, or even a test flight, for to subject the safety of any of these planes to the dangers involved in a forced landing, even for a minor cause, is, in my opinion, inexcusable where it is humanly possible to prevent this danger. In this regard it was discovered, according to a report of several officers, that one of the motors shipped to Seattle and intended for use on the long over-water hops to Japan was faulty in one of the shaft assemblies, which would undoubtedly have caused damage before reaching Japan and this would have seriously endangered the success of the venture had this motor been used.”24
Schulze, based on the experience on Lake Washington, reported that the crews must be vigilant about mooring their planes at an ample distance between them to avoid fouling one another in swinging with the tide and wind, as well as to obviate the possibility of collisions with the other planes and buoys when taxiing. He also recommended a safe way to moor to the buoys. This information was passed on to the advance officers for transmission to the crews.
Two days after the Cruisers departed Seattle, an article appeared in a San Diego newspaper headlined “Military Fliers Foresee Failure of World Trip.” The subhead stated: “Martin’s Squadron 10 Days Behind Schedule With 28,000 Miles Yet To Go.” Anonymous military aviators were reported as saying that the flight would fail because the fliers were already a thousand miles behind their original schedule and thus would not be able to escape storms in Iceland and Greenland. “Many aviators believe that the war department would have achieved better results if orders had been issued for the world fliers to ‘go on their own’ after leaving Rockwell Field,” the article stated. “At least two of the fliers, it is believed, would have been well along the Aleutian Island airway by this time, whereas the present finds the squadron limping along with a ‘lame duck’ and the flight to the next stop postponed indefinitely.”25 An investigation by the Air Service reported that the information originated from U.S. Navy sources.
On the diplomatic front, a communication had been received from the Japanese War Department that permission had finally been approved for the fliers to pass through Japanese waters. Most of Lieutenant Nutt’s requests had been granted in his discussions with a special committee composed of eleven Japanese Army Air Service officers, seven naval officers, and representatives of the Japanese foreign office. The Japanese planned to have warships in all the harbors where the Americans intended to stop and would stand by along the route for the purpose of rendering aid in the event of forced landings or emergencies.
The Japanese Navy Department also authorized two American destroyers to proceed within the fortified zone of the Kurile Islands to carry supplies for the World Flight. Two Japanese officers would be on board each of the American destroyers to assist in guiding them through the straits between the islands. Two Japanese destroyers would accompany these American vessels. The decision to send destroyers arose when it was found that no private shipping company would risk its ships going into those waters at that time of year.
The Japanese expressed concern for all the vessels making the expedition because of the ice floes and fog prevalent during the month of April. It was presumed that there would be snow in the islands when the fliers arrived and the temperatures would be freezing. Ice would have begun to move in floes and would be a serious menace to the ships at night, as well as dangerous for the planes to land for servicing. While the Aleutians normally have a warming trend in April and May because of the warm current from the Philippines and southern Japan, the Kuriles do not benefit from this current and the fliers could expect a sudden, bitter change in temperatures during the 860-mile flight between Attu and Paramushiru.
The eight Americans were well aware of the risks. They had their orders and were determined to carry them out.