While Thursday and the Chindit’s succeeding operations had been the primary reason for the Air Commandos’ existence, this did not preclude them from operating afield of Wingate’s troops. This was especially true of the fighters and bombers, which were often not needed for close support of the columns and could thus attack other targets. Of particular importance were the enemy airfields. The Japanese had moved many of their aircraft forward to support the offensive against Imphal. It was imperative for the Allies to gain air superiority over the Japanese lest the enemy’s aircraft be used with devastating effect against Allied ground forces. Air Commando aircraft would play a major role in achieving that superiority.
In March 1944 the Japanese still had a potent air force of approximately 270 aircraft in Burma. The Japanese Army Air Force’s (JAAF) main fields were in the Rangoon area at Mingaladon, Hmawbi, Zayatkwin, and Hlegu. The 5th Hikoshidan was headquartered at Rangoon and controlled several sentais (groups or air regiments) equipped with Oscars, Ki-46 Dinahs, Ki-21 Sallys, and Ki-49 Helens. Other important bases were located in the Meiktila region (Aungban and Heho) and the Mandalay area (Anisakan, Monywa, Shwebo, and Onbauk). Airfields farther forward included Indaw and Bhamo. These latter fields lay close to Broadway and Chowringhee.1
The need to gain air superiority did not negate the obligation to weaken the enemy in other ways. Numerous targets presented themselves for the Air Commandos’ attention. One such target was the town of Wuntho, east of Indaw. The Japanese had a number of supply installations there, and it was also the site of a major railroad marshaling yard, and 1st ACG planes visited it many times. The Air Commandos had first bombed the Wuntho rail yard on February 5. The enemy would regularly rebuild their warehouses following a raid, and just as regularly, the Americans would return to knock them down again. On March 13 and 14 B-25s and fighters made especially strong attacks that left the entire town burning. The March 13 attack was notable in that it was the first extensive use of rockets by the Mustangs.2
The 1st ACG was a pioneer in the USAAF in the use of aerial rockets. The service had developed a 4.5-inch projectile, and the rocket had worked well in tests. A more grueling combat test was needed, however. Because one of Cochran’s instructions had been to develop new forms of combat operations and tactics, it was natural that his group be given the task of trying out these new weapons. One of the rocket project officers, Maj. Frank Fazio, was sent from the United States along with one thousand rockets to assist the Air Commandos with the new rockets. The combat test was almost stillborn when the rockets were delivered to the Fourteenth Air Force instead of the Air Commandos. Probably unsure of what to do with these weapons, the Fourteenth’s head of logistics was easily induced to return them in exchange for three bottles of Scotch.3
Fazio’s first task was to determine how to mount the rockets on the P-51s. The rockets were encased in tubes similar to the bazookas used by the infantry. The recommended place to mount these tubes was on the Mustang’s bomb racks. Mahony was absolutely against this because his planes nearly always carried bombs, drop tanks, or both. A rocket installation would interfere with these normal loads, and changing back and forth between bombs and rockets would be too time-consuming. After consulting with the Fighter Section’s armament officer, 1st Lt. Andrew Postlewait, and obtaining the assistance of a couple of enlisted men to fabricate and install the device, Fazio created an attachment that was located nearly two feet outboard of the bomb racks. Though this was not supposed to be possible according to the manuals, the attachment worked.4
Carried in a triangular arrangement of three tubes under each wing, the 4.5-inch rockets soon became standard armament on the group’s Mustangs. When fired, the rockets would go in almost any direction and were thus not great for pinpoint accuracy, but they were devastating against buildings and other large targets. The pilots also liked to use them against locomotives, usually firing all six rockets at the same time. If a rocket hit, the explosion would tear the locomotive’s boiler to pieces, and steam and smoke would shoot hundreds of feet into the air, which was always a gratifying sight to the pilots.5
Meanwhile, two days before the landings at Broadway, twelve Air Commando P-51s carrying bombs attacked the Shwebo airfield north of Mandalay to open the campaign to obtain air superiority. Since no enemy aircraft were on the ground, the Air Commandos took their time bombing and strafing buildings and antiaircraft positions. A few hours later four B-25s also bombed and strafed the field and the neighboring town.6
On the morning of March 7, ten B-25s and a like number of P-51s raided the Bhamo II airstrip southeast of Broadway. They cratered the strip for most of its length but, once again, found no enemy aircraft. Later that afternoon Mahony and Capt. Mack Mitchell made an armed reconnaissance of the fields at Mandalay, Heho, and Anisakan. As they neared the latter Mahony saw six Oscars that appeared to be freshly painted in a dark green color and with yellow wingtips and cowling fronts that were taking off from the field. Four had already gotten airborne and were stacked up to about two thousand feet. The fifth plane was just leaving the ground, and the last one was at the end of the strip preparing for takeoff. Mahony and Mitchell immediately attacked, but the guns on one of the Mustangs jammed after just a couple of shots. Fortunately, this did not prove disastrous, as the enemy pilots were more intent on escaping and rapidly disappeared to the east. The Air Commandos claimed damage to one of the fighters.7
The Japanese may have escaped with little harm that day, but they had no such luck on the next. An early morning mission by nine B-25s and sixteen P-51s to the Indaw and Katha strips was moderately successful. The usual tactics on these joint missions was for the P-51s to open an attack with 500- or 1,000-pound bombs. They would be followed by the B-25s dropping bombs, fragmentation clusters, or incendiaries, and then both types of planes would return to beat up the target with repeated strafing runs.8 Although no enemy aircraft were found on this morning raid, the fields were well beaten up with 500- and 1,000-pound bombs. An afternoon visit to Anisakan, Shwebo, and Onbauk proved very profitable, however.
To support the offensive toward Imphal, which began on March 8, the 5th Hikoshidan moved its 62nd Sentai, 64th Sentai, and 204th Sentai from Mingaladon to the airfields in the Mandalay area that same morning. There was a mix-up when the 62nd Sentai arrived, as its bombers landed amid the already parked 64th Sentai’s Oscars. The subsequent congestion caused the cancellation of an afternoon mission and a very strong reprimand to the 62nd’s commander to get his planes to their proper field. As the two sentais were sorting out their problems, the 50th Sentai’s Oscars arrived at Shwebo from Anisakan only to be informed of the cancellation of the mission and to return to Anisakan.9
As the Japanese were trying to sort out this mess, the Air Commandos put in an appearance. The engagement the previous day had whetted the ever-aggressive Mahony’s appetite for combat, and sensing that more enemy aircraft could be found, he had requested another raid on the Mandalay fields. This time he led a force of twenty-two Mustangs carrying 500-pound bombs and belly tanks. When Mahony arrived over Anisakan, his mouth must have watered at seeing so many enemy aircraft caught on the ground. Leaving four planes as top cover, Mahony led the remainder of his flight group screaming down to savage the field.
Because the Japanese were unprepared and unable to take off, the Air Commandos raked the enemy planes unmercifully, returning again and again to strafe and bomb. Columns of smoke erupted one by one as the grounded fighters and bombers exploded and burned. Soon, a dirty pall cloaked the field. The strafers were well into their work when the top cover radioed of more fighters approaching. It was the 50th Sentai returning from the fiasco at Shwebo.
The two sides met in a furious but relatively brief battle in which Capt. Holly Keller claimed an Oscar destroyed. Another Oscar was claimed damaged. Sadly, Capt. Erle H. Schneider was lost when he apparently became fixated on an Oscar that was already on fire (possibly Keller’s victim) and flew into the enemy plane.
Leaving Anisakan burning fiercely, Mahony led his fighters toward Shwebo and Onbauk. The Japanese were still unaware of the presence of enemy aircraft, for these fields were also covered with planes. Towering smoke pyres once again marked the destruction of parked aircraft. Several 64th Sentai Oscars did manage to get off the ground to engage the Americans. They probably got 1st Lt. Martin O’Berry, who was never seen again, but may have lost a pair to Capt. Lester Murray, who got credit for probables, and had one more plane damaged by 1st Lt. Robert Boyd.
The big scorer at Onbauk was Krug. He was not flying his usual plane that day. Not all of the Air Commando P-51s carried gun cameras, but the one Krug was piloting did. Krug and 1st Lt. Roland Lynn were headed back to Hailakandi when they flew over Onbauk. It had appeared to be deserted earlier, but now it appeared to be crawling with bombers. The Americans dropped down and proceeded to beat up the field. To Krug it seemed that everywhere he looked, there was another target in his gunsight. Upon his return to Hailakandi, Krug was about to claim six bombers destroyed—there had been so many targets that he had lost track of what he had shot at—when his crew chief came in holding the gun camera film canister. The film was quickly developed and revealed that Krug had actually destroyed five Helen bombers.10
Mahony radioed that a second strike was needed and requested the B-25s be armed for this mission. As soon as he returned Mahony had his fighters hastily rearmed, also. Five B-25s and fifteen P-51s were sent on the second raid. The afternoon was descending into evening, however, and smoke smudged the air, making it difficult to see the target. Some of the smoke undoubtedly came from Burmese loggers, who often burned slash and undergrowth to clear the areas around where they were logging. The resulting haze caused all but two of the fighters to miss Onbauk. The bombers did reach Shwebo, though, and started fires that caused two heavy explosions.
This last mission almost turned into disaster for the fighters. Darkness had fallen when they returned to Hailakandi, but the field had no lights An unnamed but innovative individual had the idea of pouring drums of gasoline into a drainage ditch that ran around the field and setting the gasoline on fire. This was quickly done, and the resulting blaze outlined the runway perfectly. All planes landed safely, but it had been a close call.
The raids on the Mandalay fields had been spectacularly successful. The Air Commandos claimed twenty-seven Oscars, six Dinahs (actually Helens), one Sally, and an unidentified twin-engine transport destroyed on the ground and one Oscar destroyed, two probables, and two damaged in the air. On the other hand, the Japanese recorded only six Helens and five Oscars destroyed on the ground at Onbauk and another five fighters lost at Anisakan. Two more fighters were shot down. The 64th Sentai at Shwebo recorded only an unspecified number of aircraft damaged. Whatever the actual results, the Air Commandos had delayed the JAAF’s participation in the Imphal offensive by several days and had forced the 62nd Sentai to return to Malaya to be reequipped. Better still, the Japanese had been kept from attacking the Chindit landing zones until Wingate’s men were already in place.11
Onbauk received further attention on March 9, when eighteen fighters strafed and bombed the field. The attackers noticed that the Japanese had tried to clean up the wreckage of the day before, but piles of debris and pieces of aircraft still littered the field. One camouflaged bomber hidden in a revetment was set on fire, and an Oscar was damaged.12
Praise for the missions came swiftly. Stratemeyer wrote on March 9, “Our admiration for your mission on Shwebo and Onbauk is unsurpassed. In one mission you have obliterated nearly one-fifth of the known Japanese Air Force in Burma. Heartiest congratulations to the First Air Commando Force.”13
For the next few days the Air Commandos reconnoitered enemy airfields and found little activity. Several runs along the rivers were made, hunting for river steamers and other small vessels. One steamer was found south of Katha on the 10th and sunk. The rail yard at Hopin was struck the next day with good results.14
Then on the 12th, the Japanese struck back. That afternoon all three fighter sentais and a few bombers from the 8th Sentai went after the Allied airfields in the Silchar region, escorted by fighters from the 64th Sentai. Hailakandi lay along the enemy’s path. British radar provided some warning of the incoming raid, and a squadron of Hurricanes rose to meet the Oscars. The Japanese claimed fourteen Hurricanes shot down, but, in fact, the Japanese just damaged two of the British planes. In any event, this fight did not turn back the attackers, who continued toward Hailakandi.
At the time most of the Air Commando fighters were out supporting the 111th Brigade’s crossing of the Irrawaddy. Just a few P-51s were available to meet some eighteen raiders who were aiming at the Air Commando field. Four American fighters scrambled, but only two were able to make an intercept. First Lt. Neil Bollum and 1st Lt. Olin B. Carter had both been in the dispensary with dysentery (a common ailment among the Air Commandos) when the order to scramble came. Despite their illnesses, the two ran to their planes and took off. Neither man’s plane was ready for combat; they had not been fueled, nor had they a complete load of ammunition. Carter’s Mustang had an oxygen leak, as well, so he found himself at 24,000 feet without any oxygen.
The two fliers continued with the intercept despite these problems. When Carter reached the spot where the radar controllers said the Japanese were, he did not see anything. At this time in the war, however, radars were poor at indicating altitude, so Carter rolled onto his back and spotted the Japanese directly below him. Woozy from the lack of oxygen, he dove right through the formation without firing a shot. His pass still caused the Japanese to scatter momentarily, but they quickly regrouped.
Carter pulled up and ahead of the enemy and then whipped around to make a head-on pass. Still a bit oxygen-deprived, he did not hit anything as he zipped through the formation. Neither did the Japanese, who seemed to be content just to lob a few shells his way. With the adrenaline now rushing through him, Carter’s next attacks were more focused.
He crept up behind an Oscar and fired several bursts. A large section of its wing near the wing root ripped off, and the Oscar began to smoke. The plane fell off to the right, gradually steepening its dive until it was going straight down. It finally disappeared into the haze. Another Oscar came under Carter’s guns, and he blasted off a section of its stabilizer. The fighter flipped onto its back and fell away. Bollum had also been busy, damaging another Oscar before his guns jammed. Although Carter was credited with one probable and one damaged, he may have actually scored a victory because the 64th Sentai recorded the loss of one aircraft during this action.15
Meanwhile, the attacks on Broadway had shown the need to destroy the enemy’s air units whenever and wherever possible. The Japanese airfields around Meiktila were bombed on March 19 by twelve Mustangs. Little was found at any of the fields except for one shiny twin-engine aircraft hidden in a revetment at Onbauk. A 500-pounder dropped on it but failed to explode. The rest of the fighters expended their bombs on buildings and antiaircraft positions at Meiktila.16
The airfields were kept under observation over the next couple of weeks, and an occasional enemy plane was caught on the ground but little real damage was usually done. An attack on Anisakan on April 3 by six P-51s was successful, with one fighter claimed destroyed and three others damaged. But this was merely a warm-up for what would come a day later.17
Allied intelligence learned that the Japanese were again moving aircraft north from Rangoon as plans were drafted to raid the Heho and Aungban fields. EAC directed the 3rd TAF to be ready to make such raids at a moments notice. At 4:00 AM on April 4 word was received that twenty-one aircraft were at Aungban and seventeen more on the ground at Heho. The P-38-equipped 459th Fighter Squadron was directed to attack Heho, and the 1st ACG was given Aungban. Just four hours later, the 1st ACG’s Fighter Section launched nineteen Mustangs. As usual, Mahony led the mission.
As Mahony’s flight group neared the target, Mahony sent two fighters to look over another nearby field. Finding nothing, they rejoined the others circling to the south. At this time one of the pilots experienced engine problems and returned to Hailakandi. The rest pressed on for Aungban. About an hour and a half before the Air Commandos arrived, the 459th had attacked Heho and destroyed and damaged a number of 8th Sentai bombers and also damaged some 50th Sentai Oscars. The Japanese had attempted unsuccessfully to intercept the Americans. Because of the destruction at Heho, the Japanese interceptors had been told to land at Aungban. Now, as the Air Commandos approached, that field was even more crowded.18
A few miles north of Aungban Mahony ordered the wing tanks dropped and took eleven planes down for the attack. Seven P-51s led by Forcey remained at ten thousand feet as top cover. The sudden appearance of the Mustangs was a complete shock to the Japanese. Planes were crowded together on the ground, some with cowlings off as mechanics worked on them. A few were taxiing to parking spots, and at least one was being towed.
Mahony led two other pilots against the antiaircraft positions ringing the field. When the Americans saw that these guns were not manned, they switched over to strafing the aircraft. Mahony bagged one bomber and two fighters with his guns and damaged another fighter with rockets in six passes. First Lt. William Gilhausen made five runs, destroying two Oscars by gunfire and a third with a rocket. The latter plane disintegrated when the rocket struck. Boyd followed the other two down on the gun positions but quickly changed to the aircraft massed below. An Oscar taxiing along the strip groundlooped and then burned when it was hit by Boyd’s shells. Boyd also damaged two other fighters.
Aungban became chaotic as the Air Commandos zipped by just off the deck in pass after pass. As he climbed up to relieve the top cover, Boyd took the time to count the number of smoke columns rising from burning planes and came up with twelve separate plumes. A bit later, Petit counted at least twenty planes burning. Petit claimed three fighters destroyed, as did Bollum, who was flying Petit’s wing. The two also shared another aircraft destroyed. First Lt. Younger Pitts made nine passes over the field, claiming three fighters and a bomber destroyed. An unusual sighting was made by 1st Lt. John Meyer on one of his five runs. He believed that an aircraft he had destroyed had an inline engine, which was not a common feature of JAAF aircraft in the CBI. This plane may actually have been a Kawasaki Ki-61 Tony that the 50th Sentai was evaluating at the time.19
Mahony ordered the first group of attackers to change places with Forcey’s seven aircraft, which came down to inflict even more damage on the Japanese. Several enemy planes fell victim to the power of the new rockets, each one blowing up and flying to pieces when hit. Forcey also damaged an aircraft he identified as a Tony. Whether this was the same plane that Meyer saw or a different one is unknown. One of the unluckier pilots this day was 1st Lt. Robley Melton. Every time he lined up for a shot, another pilot cut in to blast his target.
The Japanese had called for help, but only four planes could get airborne from Heho. They did not seem that eager to mix it up with the Mustangs, however. Only one flier made a pass, and he was blasted off the tail of his quarry by Forcey. On the way home Carter remembered that he had seen a well-camouflaged Sally at Anisakan. Spotting it again he attacked and sent it up in flames. Behind them at Aungban, the Americans left four Sallys, nineteen Oscars, and one Tony destroyed, an Oscar and a Tony probably destroyed, and eight Oscars damaged. Enemy records of this encounter state that only about fifteen planes were destroyed or damaged. The Japanese also claimed one Mustang shot down. Actually, only one P-51 suffered minor damage from a single 7.7-mm round. The wide variance in claims just illustrates the difficulty in accurately assessing the actual damage incurred to an opposing force in a fast-moving aerial battle. And this dilemma applied to any air force in any theater.20
Whatever the true results were, they were devastating to the Japanese. Unlike the Allies, who could easily replace their aircraft and personnel, the Japanese were suffering losses that could not be sustained. For the Japanese, replacing aircraft was possible but increasingly difficult. The losses in aircrews were troublesome, however. Both the Japanese army and navy had started the war with small, well-trained air forces. As the war turned against it, though, many of Japan’s veteran fliers were dead or wounded, and there were not enough trained personnel to replace them. The young Japanese airmen who now entered combat were too often cannon fodder to their better-trained and better-equipped adversaries. It was a downward spiral from which there was no recovery.
Airfield attacks were not the only missions flown by the 1st ACG. Bridges were also often-visited targets. These ranged from simple wooden structures over small streams to more elaborate ones such as the Meza railroad bridge. This bridge, northeast of the landing zones, was a 700-foot-long, three-span, truss-type structure mounted on strong concrete and brick abutments. Five short spans at each end led to the main bridge. Tenth Air Force attacks in the autumn of 1943 had dropped at least one span into the river. Japanese engineers, though, were consummate rebuilders, and they often had temporary repairs in place very quickly so that repeat raids had to be made. The Air Commandos first joined in attacks on the Meza bridge on February 12, when a B-25 blew the rails out of the roadbed leading to the bridge and also destroyed a temporary bridge there. The ACG fliers continued to bomb the bridge off and on, as did the other Allied units, but a few days before the group was pulled out of combat, a reconnaissance mission reported that the bridge was still intact, with nearly one hundred railcars parked at the Meza station.21
The Shweli highway bridge on the road from Bhamo to China also received much attention. Shweli was a very difficult target. It was a 250-foot-long suspension bridge towering 70 feet above the Shweli River. Its suspension cables were securely anchored in huge concrete blocks. Hits on the bridge itself would just make easily-patched holes in its flooring. Only a direct hit on the towers between which the cables ran would produce any measure of major damage from an air raid. No attacker had been able to score a hit on a tower until the Air Commandos got a chance.22
In early April the ACG Fighter Section received five P-51Bs as replacements. The B was a much improved version of the Mustang, with a more powerful engine driving a four-bladed propeller and a greater range and service ceiling. It was also significantly faster than its predecessor. The B’s longer range enabled the 1st ACG to go after more distant targets, such as the Shweli bridge, which was 375 miles from Hailakandi. On April 20 Air Commando pilots got their first crack at the bridge when Petit and two other pilots took the brand-new P-51Bs against it. Their 1,000-pound bombs were just off target, and the bridge remained standing. Petit, accompanied by three other Air Commandos, returned the following day to score a brilliant success. Roaring in at just 1,200 feet, the quartet toggled off their 1,000-pounders. Petit’s pair were right on target in striking the towers, which crumbled and sent the bridge span and its torn cables tumbling into the river.23
Attempts to destroy the Gokteik Viaduct were not as successful. This remarkable structure had been built by American engineers in 1900–1901. It spanned a 2,260-foot-wide gorge and was mounted on 320-foot-tall latticed steel piers rising from a natural bridge. The rock formation itself was 550 feet above a stream, making the overall height of the viaduct 870 feet. Earlier Tenth Air Force raids had only done minor damage to the viaduct. The Air Commandos’ try at the Gokteik, which was heavily defended by many antiaircraft guns, on April 22 caused little damage, and no more attacks on it were mounted.24
Meanwhile, the 1st ACG was making aviation history elsewhere. Shortly after taking off from Aberdeen, an L-1 carrying three passengers, including two wounded, had engine failure and was forced down behind enemy lines about fifteen miles west of Mawlu. The pilot skillfully landed his plane on a road in an area devoid of enemy troops. There were indications, though, that the Japanese would soon become aware of the plane and come looking for the men. Rough terrain prevented a rescue attempt by a light plane, so Cochran decided to use one of his helicopters, which had not yet been tested under combat conditions.
Another light plane dropped a message to those on the ground. They were told to destroy the plane and then to head for higher ground nearby that would give them cover from prowling Japanese patrols. The party made it up a ridge, where they lived for the next four nights while being supplied with food and water dropped by the light planes.
Back at Lalaghat 1st Lt. Carter Harman was directed to bring his YR-4 helicopter forward. He left Lalaghat on April 21 and flew by stages to Jorhet, India. The next day he flew to Ledo and Taro. At Taro an L-5 gas tank was fitted to Harman’s YR-4 for the long flight over the hills to Aberdeen. Harman arrived at the Chindit bastion on the afternoon of the 23rd and was immediately sent out to pick up the stranded men.
A note dropped to the party told them to head for a nearby rice paddy. As the men made their way toward the paddy, Harman flew his chopper to a small field several miles from the paddy that was used by the light planes. There, he awaited a signal that the party had arrived to be picked up. This signal was soon received when an L-5 slowly flew over the strip and waggled its wings. Harman made two trips to the paddy, bringing one wounded man back each time. The men were then transferred to an L-5 for further transport to Aberdeen.
Harman could make but two trips the first day because the oppressive heat had put too much strain on the YR-4’s underpowered engine. He remained overnight and then brought the last two men out. On April 24, Harman flew back to Aberdeen, where he remained until May 4, flying four more missions, including the pickup of two more casualties. Because of enemy raids on Aberdeen that had destroyed all the aircraft there except for the helicopter, Harman was ordered back to Lalaghat. Fighting thunderstorms along the way, he returned home safely three days later.
Despite the unreliability and lack of power of the YR-4’s engine, Harman had demonstrated the bright future that lay ahead for helicopters for rescue missions. Today, such missions are flown on a regular basis and are taken for granted, but Harman and his YR-4 had shown the way.25
The raids by Tenth Air Force on enemy airfields had reduced Japanese air operations temporarily, and the 1st ACG fighters and bombers spent much time bombing enemy supply installations and transportation routes. In addition to flights in support of the Chindits, the Air Commandos were racking up an impressive number of combat sorties and hours in the process.
Road reconnaissance missions were flown regularly in hopes of finding any kind of vehicle. When they were found the results were usually bad for the enemy. For example, a group of camouflaged trucks was found near Momauk on April 13 by a Mustang pilot. He proceeded to destroy at least three of the vehicles and got another one speeding along a nearby road. A few hours later two Mustangs strafed a convoy near Ye-U, damaging several trucks. On April 16, twenty fighters and nine bombers attacked the village of Mohnyin, which lay along the railroad track from Indaw to Myitkyina, with good results. For missions such as this incendiaries and fragmentation bombs proved more destructive against the lightly built and flammable native structures used by the Japanese for storage. Using this ordnance, B-25s completely burned out the village of Nalong on April 22, did the same to Nanyinbya the following day, and finished off Tali on the 27th.26
Enemy aircraft were again sighted on April 16, when two P-51s made an offensive reconnaissance of Shwebo and Anisakan. The Americans sighted three or four fighters and a two-seater biplane at Anisakan and attacked immediately. Little antiaircraft fire was met, so six passes were made, and two of the Oscars went up in flames.27
Most of the fighter combat against the JAAF involved airfield attacks. Aerial battles were not as common, but on April 17 the Air Commandos ran into a batch of Oscars east of Imphal. The Japanese had dispatched a major attack against British airfields in the Imphal area. While twenty Oscars of the 50th Sentai went after nearby fields, fifty Oscars from the 64th Sentai and the 204th Sentais escorted six Sallys of the 8th Sentai to Imphal. Defending Spitfires downed one enemy plane and damaged several more, but with so many Japanese attacking, the RAF radioed for help. Thirteen Mustangs were on their way to support the Chindits at Mawlu when they were told to intercept the enemy formation. After jettisoning their bombs, the fighters turned west and soon saw twelve Oscars flying at about 14,000 feet. The 64th Sentai pilots saw the Americans at the same time and began to climb. Passing underneath the Oscars, Mahony led his men around behind them and also began a climb.
The two forces met, with the Americans doing the most damage. Mahony picked out a target and closed to four hundred yards before opening fire. He continued firing as he crept to within two hundred yards. The Oscar broke down and away, giving Mahony a good deflection shot. His shells tore into the Oscar’s fuselage, and the Japanese plane continued straight down into the ground. Meanwhile, Mahony’s wingman, Mitchell, followed up by damaging two other Japanese fighters.
Gilhausen put in a long burst into another Oscar but had to break off his attack when he got into the other plane’s prop wash. He was watching that plane disappear into the haze below when two more Japanese jumped him. Because he had to evade their passes and lost sight of his first victim, he could only claim one damaged.
Four Oscars bounced Forcey, who turned the tables on his attackers. He followed one down to five thousand feet and with his first burst, blew off the Oscar’s canopy and started a small fire. After a second burst Forcey saw the pilot’s head and arm drop over the side of the cockpit. Just before the Oscar spun in, Forcey passed just feet from it and saw blood splattered all over the cockpit. Just then another fighter closed on Forcey’s tail, and he dove for the deck at full throttle with the enemy close behind. Forcey headed for a cliff and made a violent pull-up at the last moment. The enemy pilot attempted to do the same, but as he did, his wing ripped off and his plane smashed into the ground.28
May saw the 1st ACG’s operations winding down, although it was hard to tell as the fighters and bombers continued to fly daily. But the monsoon season was about to begin, and when that happened, both Hailakandi and Lalaghat would be underwater and unusable. Too, the group was undergoing many personnel changes. Alison had gone back to Washington, D.C., in early April. Cochran had been held in the theater for awhile longer, but then turned command of the group over to Gaty. Olson, Mahony, Smith, and others also returned to the United States. The men who were left behind were tired, and many were ill. Dysentery and malaria were taking their toll, but the men still flew, still maintained the planes, still performed the everyday tasks required of combat units.
Three P-51s flew an armed reconnaissance of Shwebo and Anisakan on May 9. Nothing was seen at Shwebo, but an Oscar was found and burned at Anisakan. Another fighter was strafed without any observed results, and it was believed that it had already been wrecked.29
Several Oscars put in an appearance over Blackpool on May 16 and attempted to interfere with the Air Commandos supporting the Chindits. The Japanese pilots contented themselves with feinting at the B-25s, but four of them jumped a pair of Mustangs. In the brief action that followed, one of the Japanese planes was damaged and the Americans were forced to jettison their bombs.
The 1st ACG’s last fighter missions before the group was pulled back to reorganize were flown on May 19. The day began in tragedy but ended in satisfaction and partial retribution for the Air Commandos. Gilhausen had taken off at 6:00 AM to reconnoiter enemy airfields. Forty-five minutes later he reported finding aircraft on the Kawlin West strip and burning two planes there, but he also said he had been hit. At the time he made this report, he was five miles west of Kawlin, and said he was going to try to put a few more miles between him and the Japanese field before bailing out. That was the last message received from him. Gilhausen was carried on the group’s rolls as missing until the end of the war. It was revealed after the Japanese surrender that Gilhausen had bailed out successfully but had been captured. He was taken to Rangoon, where he eventually died from malnutrition. The Air Commandos had been noted for being somewhat casual in their dress, and Gilhausen was no exception. On his last mission he was wearing a T-shirt and slippers.30
An hour after Gilhausen took off seven more P-51s were airborne for Blackpool, where they were to bomb enemy positions. When they arrived over Blackpool the pilots spotted six Kawasaki Ki-48 Lilys flying at seven thousand feet. The bombers were escorted by fourteen Oscars, with one group of ten fighters about two thousand feet higher and to one side and the other four fighters on the other side. The Mustang pilots immediately salvoed their bombs on the enemy ground positions and turned to attack the bombers from the rear. The Lily pilots were very disciplined, keeping a tight formation throughout and letting their gunners handle the Mustangs. Six Oscars also remained with the bombers while the rest broke away to make individual runs on the P-51s.
While Mitchell led a flight against the Lilys, Carter took his men after the Oscars. First Lt. Jack Klarr was Carter’s wingman. When the two Americans attacked, Carter went after one Oscar, and Klarr took on the wingman of Carter’s target. It was a short fight. Klarr stitched his victim’s fuselage thoroughly, and the Oscar fell off to one side with flames completely enveloping its undersides. Klarr did not see his target crash but was told by others that it did. That “was a big thrill for me,” he recalled later.31
A second pass on the Oscars resulted in a victory with hardly a shot fired. Two were attacked, and one of the Japanese pilots attempted a split-S at too low an altitude when trying to escape and plowed into the ground. Melton was given credit for the demise of this plane. Another Oscar that was creeping up beneath the Mustangs was fended off and, when last seen, was diving toward the ground with its entire forward fuselage ablaze.
Mitchell and his flight, meanwhile, were raking over the Lilys. Mitchell destroyed one of the bombers with a burst into its right engine that set it afire. Two other bombers were damaged. The Japanese headed south at high speed as the Mustangs reformed. At this time one of the Japanese fliers became temporarily confused, for he tried to join up with the Air Commandos before realizing his mistake and swiftly scuttling for home. In the last aerial combat for the 1st ACG Fighter Section, the Americans were credited with one Lily destroyed and two damaged and two Oscars destroyed and two damaged.32
Two more missions were flown on the 19th. One was an unsuccessful search for Gilhausen, and the second, and last, mission for the original Air Commando group was a dive-bombing mission by eight Mustangs in support of the Chindits at Blackpool. Shortly thereafter the 1st ACG abandoned Hailakandi and Lalaghat for the drier climes of Asansol.33
Cochran’s 1st ACG established a fine record in its little more than four months of combat operations, a record for the later two Air Commando groups to aspire to. The 1st ACG Fighter Section had destroyed ninety Japanese aircraft in the air and on the ground against the loss of four fighters. One other fighter (Gilhausen’s) was apparently lost to ground fire, and one had been destroyed at Broadway. Three more had been lost in accidents. One B-25 had been lost in combat, and four others were lost in accidents. Seven fighter pilots and two bomber crews were also casualties. A quick statistical rundown shows the Fighter Section flew 1,432 sorties on 230 missions for a total of 4,495.5 combat hours. These totals were accomplished with an average of 19.8 Mustangs in commission. The B-25 statistics were just as impressive: 422 sorties flown on 102 mission for a total of 1,274 hours. Records for the Transport and Light Plane sections are harder to total, but both compiled equally impressive records. One C-47 was lost when it ran into a water buffalo on takeoff, and seven UC-64s were lost. The Light Plane Section wrote off some forty aircraft. Five of the L-1 and L-5 pilots were killed. The greatest losses, of course, were suffered by the gliders. Fragile to begin with, the operations to which they were committed resulted in nearly a 90 percent loss rate because few were ever retrieved. Such losses also came with high casualties—ten glider pilots and four enlisted men killed.34
Most of the 1st ACG moved on May 20 to Asansol, which was an abandoned British base in northeast India. The light planes, still busy evacuating casualties and providing supplies to the Chindits, returned a bit later. At Asansol, with the same élan that characterized their operations from the beginning, the Air Commandos set about building what they stated was “one of the finest rear bases in the Theater.”35 But being stationed at a rear base was not the purpose for which the group had been organized. Combat operations were their mission, and the 1st ACG would see combat again in a new and reinvigorated form.