Just what to do with the Air Commandos had long been a source of discussion within the CBI, even before they had arrived in the theater. There were some, notably SEAC air CinC Peirse, who had been against the Air Commando concept from the beginning. The critics’ dislike may have been prompted more by their antipathy toward Wingate and anything associated with him, but, rightly or wrongly, they wished to see such an “irregular” organization disappear. This meant absorbing the Air Commandos back into standard military formations. And with the death of Wingate, that now seemed attainable.
Another who wished to see the Air Commandos absorbed into conventional units was Air Marshal Baldwin, the 3rd TAF leader. He made his feelings plain in a letter to Stratemeyer on March 24, 1944. Baldwin wanted a quick resolution to the matter, saying, “The longer this remains an independent outfit working with the Special Force, the harder it is going to be to get it away from Wingate.”1
Baldwin was particularly incensed that, although Cochran was very cooperative, Wingate continually butted in on air operations and regarded the Air Commandos (in Baldwin’s view) as his “private air force.” In one instance, Baldwin related, this reached the point that Wingate forbade the Air Commandos from participating with other units in an operation that was designed to gain air superiority in the area near Broadway. This was totally unacceptable to the 3rd TAF commander, and he told Stratemeyer “how delighted I shall be if you can, at an early date, arrange for the absorption of No. 1 Air Commando Force.”2
The British Air Ministry also voiced concern about the independence of the Air Commandos. “We cannot afford to lock up packets of air forces outside centralized control of TAF,” the ministry wrote Peirse in mid-April, “when with careful planning of equipment and training we can guarantee LRPG’s fuller measure of support from within TAF than could hope for from independent commandos.”3
Stratemeyer had to tell Baldwin and Peirse that the Air Commandos would not be dissolved. He had recommended to Arnold on March 18 that such an action should take place as of May 1, 1944, and that then the components of the unit would be absorbed by other USAAF units in the theater. Because support of the LRPGs could just as easily come from regularly constituted organizations as from the Air Commandos, Stratemeyer reasoned, he could not justify using them for the exclusive support of Special Force. Stratemeyer initially recommended to Arnold that the TCC and the 3rd TAF take over the functions of the Air Commandos and that the American unit should be dissolved. He next proposed that the 1st ACG be made a wing that would then be inactivated and absorbed into the Tenth Air Force. Arnold turned down this idea because personnel would not be available for a wing. He did state that the 1st ACG could be maintained at its present strength and asked Stratemeyer if, given this, did the junior office still want to dissolve the group.4
Stratemeyer demurred, for he was not about to butt heads with Arnold. As the commanding general of the USAAF and a member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Arnold wielded considerable clout, and at the moment, he was very interested in establishing four more Air Commando groups and a like number of transport units known as Combat Cargo Groups (CCGs) for employment in the CBI. In fact in mid-March 1944, Arnold had already orally directed his Plans Division to take the first steps to organize, train, and dispatch these two organizations to the CBI. Finally, a message from Cochran to Arnold that passed through Stratemeyer’s hands may have given Stratemeyer pause also. Cochran stated in it, “We would not have been able to do our job had our boss not set us up the way he did. . . . Freewheeling is wonderful. I am convinced after recent goings on that the line from the Almighty to us must be as direct as possible. George Washington said it.”5
To clarify the situation and explain what he wanted from these new units, Arnold wrote a “Dear Dickie” letter to Mountbatten on March 24, 1944. Arnold told the SEAC leader that he was insisting on five principles that had to be followed for the employment of these units. These principles were:
1. They would be known as U.S. Army Air Forces Air Commando Unit No. _____.
2. Their operations would be directed by the senior U.S. Air Force Commander.
3. Orders and control would employ a U.S. chain of command.
4. The American integrity of the units was to be maintained.
5. The theater had to contribute to the support of their operations.
Additionally, Arnold requested that Alison and several other key Air Commando personnel be returned to the United States to assist him in organizing the four new units.6
Alison actually received two messages ordering him to report. The first, of course, was from Arnold, but the second was from Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower, directing him to report to England without delay. Alison radioed Arnold for authorization to see Eisenhower. Permission came swiftly, and Alison left India for England almost immediately. Eisenhower, who was then in the final planning stages for the Normandy invasion, wanted to hear about the Air Commandos experiences with gliders because the aircraft would be used extensively in the invasion. Alison spent a couple of days discussing Operation Thursday with General Spaatz, who was commanding the U.S. strategic air forces in Europe, and General Vandenberg, who was deputy commander of the Allied Expeditionary Air Force, before returning to Washington, D.C.7
Alison arrived back in the United States in early April and reported to Arnold. The general was in an exuberant mood, having seen the publicity generated by Thursday. According to Alison, the general told him, “This has been such a success. I have given authorization to form four more Air Commando groups and the necessary transport. I have already implemented the organization of two of them.”
“General, what are they going to do?” Alison replied.
“We are going to retake Burma from the air.”
“Whose troops are we going to use?” a skeptical Alison asked.
Arnold said, “We are going to move the British Army into Burma.”
This was too much for Alison, who blurted, “General, I don’t think the British Army is going into Burma.”8
Alison then told the USAAF leader that from what he had seen in India, the British were not expending a great deal of energy planning for large operations in Burma. Alison added that Cochran probably had a better feel for the situation because he had close relationships with Mountbatten and Wingate. Now angry and disturbed, Arnold ordered his staff to bring back Cochran as soon as possible. What Alison and Cochran could tell Arnold would certainly have an impact on what additional forces would be sent to the CBI, and the information they provided could play a decisive role in determining the number of Air Commando groups that would be formed. Stratemeyer, however, did not wish to release Cochran until the Air Commandos had been removed from combat, so it took a number of increasingly insistent messages from Washington before Cochran was pried loose. He finally arrived in the United States in late May.9
When he had spoken with both Alison and Cochran, Arnold pressed Mountbatten and Stratemeyer on their plans for the use of the Air Commandos in the overall operational strategy for the theater and their ability to support more Air Commando groups. Although Stratemeyer warned Arnold that Mountbatten and Peirse might be planning to pressure the USAAF leader to let them control the Air Commandos in a different manner than Arnold had insisted on, little other information reached Arnold concerning future plans. After a while, Arnold became impatient. It was becoming evident that, given the continual shortage of transports in the CBI, the British and, to a lesser extent, the senior American leaders in the theater were more interested in obtaining additional transports than in gaining more Air Commando groups.10
While Arnold awaited some indication of what Mountbatten and his subordinates intended to do in Burma, he directed Alison to prepare a plan to retake northern Burma utilizing the Air Commando and Combat Cargo units. On April 22 Alison submitted a broad overview for the employment of these forces. His one-page plan postulated the use of three Air Commando and four CCGs in the “vertical envelopment” of the enemy. The plan was dependent on knowing the exact number of troops to be maintained behind the lines, a figure that the SEAC commander was slow in presenting. Alison was well aware of this tendency of the British command, for he stated, “The success of this plan will depend on the willingness of the British Commanders in India to commit themselves to this operation, and this decision will be made or denied depending on the ability of the Air Commander to sell the planners on the advisability of putting troops down and maintaining them by air.”11
Alison went on to describe the composition of the first three (and, as it turned out, only) Air Commando units. Unusually, the groups would consist of five P-51 squadrons and one B-25H squadron. He evidently figured that since they were familiar with the bombers, the 1st ACG would get the newly created B-25 section and an additional fighter squadron. Indeed, the 1st ACG initially had just one P-51 squadron, but a second was swiftly added when the B-25s did not materialize. Significantly, in light of what he had already told Arnold concerning the ennui surrounding the British in the CBI, Alison concluded, “The results to be obtained by employment of an Air Commando force in conjunction with Combat Cargo units is limited only by the imagination and driving force of the Commander.”12 Sadly, what was lacking in the senior leadership in the CBI was imagination and drive.
Nonetheless, movement was made on a reorganization of the EAC. Despite the misgivings by both the Americans and the British about an “integrated” organization such as the EAC, the command had worked. But as spring flowed into summer, both sides felt that it was time for a change. In one way this was the result of shifts in headquarters. Mountbatten left Delhi to set up his headquarters at Kandy on Ceylon (now Sri Lanka), which really was in his command area, unlike Delhi. Stratemeyer also moved the EAC headquarters to the Hastings jute mill north of Calcutta. These moves freed both leaders from the stifling closeness and lackadaisical atmosphere of Delhi, and allowed them to work more efficiently.
Following his move Stratemeyer directed his staff to come up with a plan to streamline the EAC and reduce its overhead. Stratemeyer also felt that a reorganization would result in a closer coordination between air and ground forces. The staff study met with the EAC leader’s approval, and on June 20, 1944, the EAC was reorganized. Two weeks earlier the TCC had been disbanded, and its units were placed under the 3rd TAF’s control.
The “new” EAC consisted of five components: the Strategic Air Force was composed of the 231 Bombardment Group (BG) and the 7th BG; Photographic Reconnaissance Force consisted of the 171 Wing and the 8th Photographic Group; the 3rd TAF kept the 221 Group, the 224 Group, the 12th BG, and the 3rd CCG (which was not yet in the theater); the Tenth Air Force was composed of the 80th Fighter Group, the 311th Fighter Bomber Group, and the 443rd Troop Carrier Group, plus the 11th Combat Cargo Squadron; and an Air Task Force made up of the 1st ACG and the 3rd CCG (pulling double duty, it seems). Numerous other supporting units were also assigned.13
It is doubtful if any of the Air Commandos were aware of the attempts to break up their unit. Even if they were, they were too busy training to worry about things they had no control over anyway. On August 9, 1944, USAAF Headquarters authorized Stratemeyer to activate a new 1st ACG utilizing the personnel of the original group and replacements as needed. The reconstituted group was to consist of a fighter squadron, a troop carrier squadron, three liaison squadrons, and a medical unit. Like the two Air Commando groups organized in the United States, the second version of the 1st ACG would reflect a more standard USAAF group structure than it had earlier.14
The omission of a second fighter squadron bothered Stratemeyer, and he radioed Arnold to amend the activation instructions to include the second squadron. Arnold was willing to activate it but worried that the theater had inadequate service units to accommodate an additional unit. Stratemeyer agreed that theater service facilities were spread thin, but added, “We feel that the necessity to fight this group properly outweighs the handicap of the additional strain of one fighter squadron on our service facilities. Our urgent recommendation for the additional fighter squadron stands.”15 A second squadron was quickly authorized.
Another organization type that was slow in reaching the 1st ACG was the airdrome squadron, or ADS. This unit, which handled maintenance and housekeeping chores for a squadron, was part of the other two Air Commando groups from the start, but such squadrons did not reach the 1st ACG until the fall, when three were assigned.16
The new 1st ACG was activated at Asansol on September 1, 1944, under the command of Gaty. The squadron commanders are listed in the accompanying table. Beginning the fall of 1944, the 1st ACG consisted of the 5th Fighter Squadron (Commando), equipped with twenty-five P-47D Thunderbolts; the 319th Troop Carrier Squadron (Commando)—the 319th TCS—with sixteen C-47s and thirty-two CG-4As; the 164th Liaison Squadron (LS), the 165th LS, and the 166th LS, each with thirty-two L-5s and four UC-64s; and the 285th Medical Dispensary, Aviation. The group’s second fighter squadron, the 6th, was activated on September 30 and also had twenty-five Thunderbolts.
1st Air Commando Group, September 1944
Col. Clinton B. Gaty
5th Fighter Squadron (Commando)
Capt. Roland R. Lynn
6th Fighter Squadron (Commando)
Capt. Olin B. Carter
319th Troop Carrier Squadron (Commando)
Maj. Neil L. Holm
164th Liaison Squadron, Commando
1st Lt. David C. Beasley
165th Liaison Squadron, Commando
Capt. Vincent L. Ulery
166th Liaison Squadron, Commando
1st Lt. Fred H. Van Wagner
72nd Airdrome Squadron
Maj. Henry Barry (November 26, 1944)
309th Airdrome Squadron
Capt. Ray E. Stewart (November 26, 1944)
326th Airdrome Squadron
Maj. Peter Skalin (November 26, 1944)
285th Medical Dispensary, Aviation
Maj. Donald C. Tulloch
The group was placed under the operational control of the Combat Cargo Task Force, which was established on September 15. This organization, commanded by Brig. Gen. Frederick W. Evans, would control all phases of combat cargo flying, including the delivery of supplies, the transport of ground or airborne troops, and the air evacuation of personnel.17
With the Air Commandos still intended to support LRPGs, Gaty had one of his first meetings as commander of the reformed 1st ACG on September 3. The purpose was to discuss training with Special Force. Although the Air Commandos would spend considerable time training with Special Force at Lalitpur over the next few months, they would never again be used to support the Chindits. Because Mountbatten and Slim now placed less emphasis on LRP operations, the British commanders were planning to use the Chindits more as regular infantry. Actually, the Chindits had already fought their last battle in August near Mogaung. They had been bled dry, as had Merrill’s Marauders, by foolish actions on Stilwell’s part. Incapable of further action, the Chindits were finally withdrawn. After a rest period, what was left of the Chindits went back into training for battles that never came.18
Training for its own men consumed most of the 1st ACG’s time in September. The war-weary P-51s were flown to Karachi and turned in, while new P-47s arrived to be checked out. Brand-new C-64s and L-5s arrived in crates to be assembled and test-flown. The L-1s they had also used had now gone out of production and were in short supply in the theater. Stilwell wanted to place the remaining planes into one formation, so the Air Commandos ferried their L-1s to Ledo, where the planes became part of the 1st Liaison Group (Provisional). Group headquarters also took possession of a B-25H to act as a liaison ship and general hack aircraft. In addition to training, men of the group began with enthusiasm to turn Asansol into something looking more like a base back home than the somewhat shabby spot it had been. The underlying current running through Asansol, though, was speculation over when the group would return to combat. That time was fast approaching. The liaison squadrons had been the last to return from combat in the spring, but they would be the first to begin operations in the fall.19
But as the group prepared to reenter combat, momentous changes were occurring within the CBI. For many months the antagonism between Stilwell and Chiang Kai-shek had been growing more pernicious. The American saw the Generalissimo as corrupt and venal, militarily inept, and unwilling to fight. Stilwell viewed the Chinese leader as not worth the effort the United States was exerting to support him against the Japanese. Chiang, on the other hand, saw Stilwell as one trying to usurp his power and as an individual incapable of grasping the broader aspects of diplomacy or Chinese politics.
A series of events in September brought the Stilwell–Chiang situation to a head. Earlier, the British had already been seeking Stilwell’s removal, citing his prickly personality and the complicated and awkward command arrangements under which Stilwell operated. In June the Japanese had an offensive well under way in eastern China. The situation was looking grim for Chiang’s troops and for the Fourteenth Air Force’s bases located in eastern China. Marshall suggested that Stilwell give up his position as the SEAC deputy commander to Maj. Gen. Daniel I. Sultan and go to China to reinvigorate the Chinese.
Stilwell preferred that President Roosevelt write a “stiff” letter to Chiang stating the massive contributions in supplies and money that the United States had already given China and insisting that Chiang needed to act decisively. Stilwell also believed that the Nationalist troops stationed in northwest China just to keep an eye on the Chinese Communists there were needed to help stem the Japanese offensive. Roosevelt did write a blunt letter in which he recommended that the Generalissimo place Stilwell in charge of all Chinese and American forces in China. Such an option would be a bitter pill for Chiang to swallow, but he did reply that he agreed in principle, but political considerations could delay acting on this proposal. The U.S. president attempted to bring Chiang and Stilwell together by sending his personal representative, Brig. Gen. Patrick J. Hurley, to mediate the differences and to assure the Chinese leader of the United States’ continued support.
Hurley’s mission was doomed to failure. Following his arrival in early September, Hurley had several meetings with Chiang and came away from them feeling that the issue of Stilwell assuming command of the Chinese forces had been settled. His positive feelings were abruptly quashed within a few days. On September 15 Chiang informed Stilwell that he was going to withdraw his Yunnan Force (then under Stilwell’s command) back across the Salween unless Stilwell resumed the offensive toward Bhamo within a week. Stilwell was quick to see this ultimatum as another instance of the usual foot-dragging and blackmail that he always ascribed to Chiang. He reported as much to Roosevelt.
After the president received Stilwell’s message, Roosevelt responded with an ultimatum of his own. He wrote that placing Stilwell in command of the Chinese forces offered the greatest opportunity to defeat the Japanese. On the other hand Chiang could be jeopardizing his air supply route over the Hump by withdrawing his troops. Was the Generalissimo willing to accept the consequences of such an action?
Ironically, the man who delivered Roosevelt’s message was not Hurley, but Stilwell. He handed it to Chiang on September 19 in Chungking as Hurley was preparing to meet the Generalissimo. The Chinese leader quickly excused himself, leaving the two Americans to ponder what to do next. They did not have long to wait. Chiang notified Hurley on September 23 that Stilwell had to go. He followed this two days later with a formal aide-mémoire calling for Stilwell’s removal.
After long discussions with his Joint Chiefs of Staff, Roosevelt finally wrote Chiang on October 18 that Stilwell would be recalled. The president did state, however, that Stilwell had been operating under the directives of the CCS, Churchill, and himself. Nevertheless, Stilwell was to go.
A new command structure was also established with Stilwell’s departure. The CBI theater was split in two. General Wedemeyer20 was named commander, U.S. Forces, China Theater, and also chief of staff to Chiang, while Sultan became commander, U.S. Forces, India–Burma Theater. Sultan also became commander of the NCAC, which was the organization controlling American and Chinese forces in Burma. Finally, Lt. Gen. Raymond A. Wheeler, who had been Mountbatten’s principal administrative officer, became the deputy Supreme Allied Commander on November 12. As Mountbatten pointed out later, Stilwell had to be succeeded by three lieutenant generals, of whom each had at least two entirely separate functions.21
The Air Commandos took little notice of these high-level maneuvers. They were too busy working. A detachment nicknamed the Boston Detachment was established in October to evacuate wounded from the Kabaw Valley south of Tamu in Burma. It was made up primarily of men and aircraft of the 165th LS and initially consisted of sixteen L-5s, three UC-64s, four RAF DH 82 Tiger Moths, and three CG-4As. The squadron moved first to Palel, India, but quickly realized that an evacuation strip was needed closer to the front lines. A further move was made to Tamu on October 18, where the squadron remained until November 4. At that time a new strip at Yazagyo (code-named Yell) at the southern end of the valley opened, and the squadron again moved forward.22 The 319th TCS was also directed to rush a C-47 and a glider to Imphal to evacuate wounded from that area. The glider, with nine wounded aboard, was snatched on October 9, and the men were safely delivered to a hospital in the rear.23
The evacuation of wounded was helped immeasurably by a modification to the L-5s that made loading litters easier. Although the L-5s could already carry litters, it was a time-consuming effort to place a litter in a plane. Members of the liaison squadrons’ engineering sections removed the rear seats from a couple of the planes and cut into the rear fuselages directly behind the cockpit so that a section of the fuselage hinged upwards. This modification proved so successful that more of the L-5s quickly underwent this surgery.24
The men at Yazagyo quickly found themselves in the thick of the action. Enemy ground troops were in the area, although none made any attempt to attack the strip. It was a different story in the air. Several earlier alerts had come to nothing, but on the morning of November 5 a lone Oscar jumped a Spitfire landing at Yazagyo. The enemy pilot did not get the Spitfire, but when he saw a B-25 parked alongside the strip, he fired an accurate burst into the bomber and destroyed it. He then made one more pass on the field, lightly damaging a pair of L-5s. There was no return fire because antiaircraft defenses had yet to be emplaced. This was swiftly remedied. The dangerousness of the area was emphasized three days later when a C-47 was shot down close to the field and several other transports were reported shot down nearby.25
As can be seen, the light plane operations were never easy. Just a couple of days after they arrived at Yazagyo, the men of the 165th LS found themselves short of gasoline, and all flying had to be curtailed. C-47s dropped an emergency supply of gasoline in two-gallon containers on the morning of November 7. These were scattered all over the field, and it took time to recover the cans. The cans were delivered to the L-5s, where the crews (after laboriously separating rusty water from the fuel) poured eighteen cans of fuel into each plane by hand.
This process took up most of the morning, but the light planes were back in the air that afternoon.
Yazagyo was a very dusty place, and when the aircraft returned they churned up so much dust that the late arrivals had to make several passes before landing. Once everyone was on the ground, there was a “general stampede” for the nearby river to wash away the layers of dust coating everyone.26
Though the little planes suffered no losses to enemy aircraft, the rather short and narrow strip carved out of the jungle was itself a factor in accidents. One particularly serious accident occurred on November 5 as night descended on Yazagyo. A 165th LS UC-64 pilot with passengers on board attempted to land in the growing darkness. His first try, with landing lights on, was unsuccessful. He turned his lights off on his second approach, perhaps thinking he could see out of his windshield better that way. He touched down fine but apparently lost his sense of direction on the unlighted strip and struck another UC-64 parked alongside the runway. The impact swung the landing plane around, which then plowed into a pair of Tiger Moths, starting a fire that consumed all three aircraft. Two passengers were killed, two more suffered critical burns, and the remaining two passengers and the pilot received minor burns. This incident ended tragically, but less severe takeoff and landing accidents on such rough and dusty fields were not uncommon.27
The 1st ACG’s fighter squadrons entered combat not soon after the liaison squadrons did. Increased enemy air activity in the Rangoon area brought intense scrutiny by the EAC’s intelligence officers. They estimated that some fifty-five single-engine Japanese fighters were based on the Rangoon fields, but they soon noted that this number had dropped while there was a corresponding increase in numbers of aircraft at Bangkok. This was interpreted to be the result of American activity toward the Philippines. Nevertheless, there were numerous targets still available at Rangoon, and Stratemeyer decided it was a good time to hit the enemy. A major effort, called Operation “L,” was scheduled to begin October 17 but no later than the 19th, weather permitting, and it was to last for three days. In addition to the Rangoon strikes, a series of diversionary attacks were to be made on Japanese airfields in central Burma two days prior to the main operation. The diversionary attacks started on October 15, but weather did hamper operations, and the main effort did not commence until the 18th.28
In addition to an Air Commando composite squadron composed of its two fighter units, two USAAF squadrons with P-47s and P-38s, and four RAF squadrons flying Bristol Type 156 Beaufighters, DH 98 Mosquitoes, and Thunderbolts were tapped for the Rangoon operation. The twenty-four planes of the Air Commandos were placed under the operational control of the 3rd TAF and attached to the 224 Group at Cox’s Bazar in Arakan. Maintenance personnel to tend the squadron’s Thunderbolts were flown in by the 319th TCS’s C-47s, and the P-47s arrived at Cox’s Bazar on October 15 to prepare for the mission.29
Weather did delay the start of Operation “L,” but the Allied formations took off finally for Rangoon early on October 18. Led by six Beaufighters of the 177 Squadron, the squadrons arrived over Rangoon at intervals of approximately forty minutes. The first four Allied units generally had little luck in their attacks, claiming just one Dinah damaged on the ground. The 58th Fighter Squadron did better, claiming two Oscars destroyed in the air and four destroyed on the ground.
The twenty-four 1st ACG Thunderbolts arrived over Mingaladon a few minutes before 11:00 AM and found eight Oscars airborne. The defenders were not particularly aggressive, generally making rather feeble passes on the attackers and breaking these off before they got too close. Captain Lynn, the 5th Fighter Squadron commander leading the mission, got involved in a tight, turning battle with one of the more aggressive enemy pilots and was able to pump enough shells into the Oscar to set it spinning wildly. The last Lynn saw of his adversary, the plane was still spinning as it fell through four thousand feet. Lynn received credit for a probable kill.30
In the meantime, the other Air Commandos were beating up Mingaladon quite badly. Many enemy aircraft had been unable to take off, and they were prime targets. Although the defenders put up some antiaircraft fire, it was sparse and inaccurate. The raid was over by 12:30 PM, and the attackers started back. On the way home 1st Lt. Everett L. Kelly, a 6th Fighter Squadron pilot, heard his wingman calling that an enemy fighter was on his tail and asking if Kelly could chase it off. Kelly and his wingman began a dive, and Kelly whipped his Mustang around to get a side shot on the pursuer. The Oscar shuddered and burst into flames. Kelly followed it down and saw the pilot bail out and land in the marshes. It was Kelly’s first combat mission.31
The mission was not a stunning success, however, and one Beaufighter was lost. Nevertheless, the attackers left behind six enemy aircraft destroyed on the ground, three more destroyed in the air, one probably destroyed in the air, and another six planes damaged on the ground. Of these victories, the Air Commandos were credited with five.32
Twenty P-38s of the 459th Fighter Squadron returned to Mingaladon the following day but did not have any success. A final mission against the Rangoon airfields was flown by four squadrons, including the Air Commandos, on October 20. One of these squadrons, the 58th Fighter Squadron spent its time circling over the area and did not even attack. A pilot from the 459th shot down an Oscar, but honors again went to the Air Commandos, who bagged another fighter in the air and damaged three more on the ground. Second Lt. Marion C. Ball, on just his second combat mission, had become separated from his element leader as they flew through some clouds. When he emerged Ball found an Oscar just beneath him. The enemy pilot was caught unaware and died for his carelessness when Ball set his plane aflame.33
Second Lt. Lee “Moon” Mullins damaged an Oscar but came under machine-gun fire during his run across Mingaladon. The gun was mounted atop a hangar, and Mullins was flying so low that the gunners were firing down on him. A shell hit his windshield, broke the armored glass and dropped into his lap but, fortunately, did not injure him. When he got back to Cox’s Bazar, Mullins hopped out of his plane to inspect the damage. As he looked at the cracked windshield, he began cursing the enemy, the damage, anything he could think of. Someone walked up behind him and asked what had happened. Mullins ignored the questioner, continuing to swear at full throttle. When he finally calmed down and turned to face the inquirer, an embarrassed Mullins discovered it was Stratemeyer, who had only been interested in the circumstances of the incident.34
With the three-day operation concluded, the EAC analyzed the results. It was not particularly happy with what it found. Although seventeen enemy aircraft were claimed destroyed in the air and on the ground, with two probables and another thirteen planes damaged against the loss of a single Beaufighter and minor damage to several others, the EAC had expected more. Except for the Air Commandos, most of the other participating units were cited for a lack of aggressiveness. The writer of the study had especially caustic comments for some of these units. For example, he described the leader of the 58th Fighter Squadron as having exercised poor judgment inasmuch as it appeared “that he preferred a totally abortive mission, to attacking the target with a smaller force” when he was in a position to make a very successful attack. The author recommended possible replacement of group, squadron, and flight leaders who showed a lack of aggressive spirit and the will to destroy the enemy.35
The 459th Fighter Squadron received similar chastisement. Even when the squadron had been in an excellent position to bounce the enemy, the report notes, the resulting attack had been lackluster, and only one Japanese plane had been shot down by the 459th. The writer believed this had been due to a “prolonged siesta on their back-sides during the past few months. It is recommended that adequate measures be instigated in order to show them the light.”36
Only the Air Commandos received overall praise. “This unit conducted itself most admirably in carrying out their mission,” the author said. “It was amazing to see a squadron composed of inexperienced pilots flying over unfamiliar territory, achieve success which was better than twice the combined efforts of other units participating.”37
The EAC and the 3rd TAF decided a return to Rangoon was needed when they noted that the Japanese were moving aircraft back there following Operation “L”. This time not only the airfields would be attacked, but other facilities as well, notably the Insein locomotive shops. It was hoped that these raids would finally succeed at making the airfields untenable for the Japanese aircraft. A new operation, named Eruption, was laid on for November 3 and 4. This was a very large operation that would include not only P-47s and P-38s, but B-24s and XX Bomber Command B-29s, as well. Allied intelligence personnel estimated that the Japanese now had more than sixty aircraft operational on the fields surrounding Rangoon. A sweep of the airfields was scheduled to open the action on the 3rd, followed by B-29s bombing the Mahlwagon marshaling yards, and finishing with a second sweep of the airfields by the Air Commandos.
Before moving forward to Cox’s Bazar for the operation, the fighter pilots spent the first couple of days of November painting their Thunderbolts in SEAC’s newly required markings. These markings consisted of dark blue bands on the wings, vertical and horizontal stabilizers, and forward portions of the cowlings. In addition, the five diagonal stripes (also blue) carried by the original group were painted on. Finally, the planes’ markings identified them by squadron. The 5th Fighter Squadron’s planes had their aircraft numbers painted under the cockpit, and the 6th Fighter Squadron’s planes had their aircraft numbers in white on the tail band.38
On the morning of the 3rd, Lynn led twenty freshly painted 5th Fighter Squadron aircraft toward Rangoon, while now-Capt. Younger Pitts had seventeen 6th Fighter Squadron planes under his command. Mechanical problems forced the return of one 5th Fighter Squadron and two 6th Fighter Squadron planes. A third P-47 from the 6th crashed in shallow water shortly after takeoff when its engine failed, but its pilot was uninjured. The remaining thirty-three planes pressed on for Rangoon.
RAF Thunderbolts and USAAF P-38s opened the action with attacks against the Mingaladon, Zayatkwin, and Hmawbi airfields. A few Japanese aircraft were spotted airborne, but except for one brief encounter with three Oscars, no aerial combat ensued. Even fewer aircraft were seen on the ground, and no claims were made by the three squadrons attacking the airfields. Close on the heels of the fighters came forty-four B-29s to lay their bombs onto the marshaling yards in an extremely tight pattern. As the bombers were dropping their last bombs, the Air Commandos arrived for the final sweep of the airfields.
When the nineteen 5th Fighter Squadron planes arrived over Mingaladon at about 10:30 AM, they found numerous clouds obscuring the field. As eleven planes flew a high cover, the remaining eight went low to strafe. The clouds almost completely foiled the strafers. Three became lost in the clouds, another failed to find any targets, and the four that were left reported only one aircraft visible on the ground. No claims were made, and light flak slightly damaged one of the Thunderbolts.
The 6th Fighter Squadron’s pilots had better luck. Leaving four planes as top cover, ten P-47s strafed Zayatkwin. No planes were seen, but a hangarette was burned, as were several other structures. As the planes swept over the field, an unusual “jet-like” explosion that sent debris soaring 150 feet into the air was noted. It was thought this might have been a land mine set off by the defenders in hopes of catching an attacker. The top cover spotted a couple of Oscars at 30,000 feet, well above the Americans, but these disappeared before they could be reached.
Meanwhile, the other Air Commandos headed for Hmawbi and ran into a pair of Oscars on the deck. These two planes proved too nimble to be shot down, but they were holed by several Thunderbolts before escaping. Lt. Joe Setnor blew up a Sally on the ground, and another Sally and a Tony were claimed damaged. Flak was light but damaged two planes. Another burst shot away a fighter’s rudder controls. By skillful flying, the pilot of the rudderless plane was able to bring his plane back to Cox’s Bazar. He might have made a successful landing had his brakes not been disabled also. Unable to stop, he ran off the runway and smashed into a truck, unfortunately killing an Indian worker. The pilot walked away unhurt.39
The two squadrons returned to Asansol on November 5. The 5th Fighter Squadron remained only briefly at the home field, leaving for Fenny, about one hundred miles north of Cox’s Bazar, three days later. Fenny was home to the 12th BG, a B-25 outfit, and the Air Commandos would be used to escort the bombers and fly independent sweeps. The men of the bomb group were delighted to see the P-47s and went out of their way to make the Air Commandos welcome and comfortable. Just two days after their arrival, the 5th flew its first mission from Fenny, a sweep of the airfields at Meiktila. The mission began poorly when one P-47’s engine failed on takeoff, and the plane slammed into a revetment and burned. Luckily, the pilot escaped with minor injuries and was flying again at the end of the month. Nothing was found that day and little turned up over the next few missions.
An Oscar was burned on the ground at Nawnghkio on November 11, a Sally was destroyed at Laihka the following day, and another Oscar was damaged on the 19th at Hmawbi as the Air Commandos were flying an escort mission. During the November 12 mission, however, 2nd Lt. Hilton D. Weesner was hit by ground fire while strafing a Meiktila field and plowed into a hill. He was last seen slumped over in his cockpit as flames began to spread along the fuselage. Appearances can be deceiving, though. Weesner survived the crash, was taken prisoner, and was freed from a Rangoon POW camp in May 1945.40
Another 1st ACG pilot went down on November 22 during an attack on the Mu River Bridge bypass, an oft-visited target of the Air Commandos. As he pulled out of his run 2nd Lt. Walter C. Lair smelled gasoline fumes in his cockpit. He also noted that his fuel gauge was beginning to drop rapidly. About ten minutes later his engine stopped, and a switch to the auxiliary tank only worked momentarily. Lair picked out some firm ground to belly in on. He overshot the spot, however, and plowed through some trees, which sheared off both wings about four feet from the P-47’s fuselage.
Just slightly bruised from this rough encounter, Lair was able to start walking west. He tried to avoid natives for some time, but growing weakness from lack of food finally forced him to seek help. Fortunately, the Karens he met were friendly, and they eventually took him to a British patrol. Lair was reunited with his buddies at Fenny in January after some 39 days in the jungle.41
While the 1st ACG’s fighter pilots plied their trade, the liaison squadrons remained busy evacuating wounded soldiers, primarily those of the 11th Division in the Chindwin area and the 5th Division south of Tiddim. Eight evacuation strips were built specifically for this purpose, and many other airstrips near the front lines were also used for light plane evacuations. Most of the latter were hardly worth the designation of airstrip, being just a few hundred yards of somewhat level ground carved out of the jungle.
The little planes were not the only means of evacuating the wounded, however. The 1st ACG’s gliders were used extensively in that role. Between November 11 and November 16, for example, the CG-4s delivered 127,330 pounds of supplies and brought out 208 casualties. These flights were not without danger. A glider pilot washed out his aircraft on the 12th when he stalled out on landing and ripped the tail off his glider. A short time later another pilot came in too fast and slammed into a pair of gliders that were parked off the end of the runway. Although all of the aircraft were destroyed, no one was seriously injured.42
The pilots of the 165th LS had been flying as many as twenty missions a day, and by mid-November both they and their planes were weary. Men and planes of the 166th LS began arriving on November 13, and that squadron took over operations on November 20. The 165th returned to Asansol to have its planes reconditioned and allow its men to get some rest. This change in squadrons did not mean any letdown in operations. Evacuation and supply missions continued without skipping a beat.43
Some very welcome additions to the 1st ACG arrived in late November when the airdrome squadrons joined the group. After sitting for some time awaiting orders, the 72nd Airdrome Squadron (ADS), the 309th ADS, and the 326th ADS had moved from their training bases to Camp Anza, Calif. The men tramped aboard the USS General H. W. Butner, which weighed anchor on October 2 for the journey to India. On November 23 the H. W. Butner docked at Bombay, whereupon ADS crews boarded a train for Asansol. It took three days to reach Asansol but when the squadrons reached the field, they were greeted warmly by the Air Commandos, who had been maintaining their own aircraft. The 326th ADS was assigned to work with the fighter squadrons, the 72nd assisted the 319th TCS, and the 309th went to the liaison squadrons. The 326th was first to begin work, being sent to Fenny to join the 6th Fighter Squadron, which was then based there. The yeoman work of all the airdrome squadrons was immediately apparent, as sortie and in-commission rates soared.44
December also saw a final reorganization of the EAC. Mountbatten wished to have two of the command’s RAF groups released for use in support of the ground forces that would shortly be opening what was hoped would be the final offensive in Burma. Therefore, Stratemeyer inactivated the 3rd TAF as of November 21 and directed on December 1 that a reorganization take place on December 4. The EAC now consisted of the Tenth Air Force, the Strategic Air Force, the 221 Group, the 224 Group, the Combat Cargo Task Force (which included the Air Commandos, the 1st CCG, and the 4th CCG), the Photo Reconnaissance Force, and a Wing headquarters for the air defense of Calcutta and the B-29 bases nearby.45
In the meantime, the Japanese 11th Army in China had begun an offensive from Liuchow to the northwest toward Tushan. By the beginning of December the 11th Army neared Kweiyang. If the Japanese took this town, they could head toward either Chungking or Kunming. Chiang Kai-shek, who had threatened earlier to remove his troops and who had never been that enthusiastic about using his troops in Burma anyway, used this danger to recall a couple of his divisions. He demanded that two divisions and some of his other forces be flown back immediately.
Having arrived in China only on October 31, Wedemeyer was still getting his new command organized and was unsure of the abilities of the Chinese forces. Too, given the troubles between Stilwell and Chiang, Wedemeyer did not want to further strain relations between the United States and China. Thus, he decided that Chiang’s demand must be met. Moreover, he requested that two CCGs be sent to China. This would be about half of the SEAC’s transports.
While Mountbatten may have been sympathetic to Chiang’s problems, he had problems and upcoming operations of his own to consider. The removal of the CCGs could very well result in the Fourteenth Army’s operations grinding to a halt, for it relied heavily on air supply. Returning the Chinese divisions could have serious repercussions on operations in northern Burma and could conceivably delay the opening of the Burma Road to China. Mountbatten could not accept this and reported that to the British chiefs of staff. Following serious discussions the CCS decided that some of the aircraft could be sent to China, but the planes would only be on loan and they must be returned by March 1, 1945. They also agreed that the two Chinese divisions could be returned to China.46
Initially, Chiang had wanted the 22nd Division and the 38th Division, which he considered two of his best. These two units, however, were in action and Sultan asked if the 14th Division and the 50th Division, which were then in back areas, could be substituted. Chiang was unwilling to lose both of his top divisions, so Sultan suggested returning the 14th and one other division. Chiang approved, and the 14th and 22nd Divisions were chosen. The 22nd became a relatively easy choice because it was much less involved in combat than was the 38th.47
With that settled the EAC directed the Tenth Air Force to handle the movement of the divisions. In turn, Davidson placed his deputy chief of staff, Col. S. D. Grubbs, in charge. It is unknown what wit first dubbed it so, but in a play on the colonel’s name, the operation became known as Grubworm. The transport squadrons for the operation came from the Air Transport Command (ATC), the Tenth Air Force, the 1st ACG’s 319th TCS, and the newly arrived 317th TCS of the 2nd ACG. The Air Commandos received short notice of their assignment but were in place at Myitkyina North on the evening of December 4. Little tent-age and few cots were available for the men, so most settled for sleeping in the open on the ground.
The first flights were out of Myitkyina North, but four other fields were swiftly put to use. One of these, Nansin, had been finished only the day before Grubworm began and was still subjected to Japanese sniper and artillery fire, which slowed operations there somewhat. Capt. Archie L. McKay of the 319th flew the first mission. On this first day of Grubworm, sixteen C-47s of the 319th and ten of the 317th flew thirty-six sorties over the Hump to Chanyi, seventy miles northeast of Kunming.
With these first sorties under their belts, the Air Commandos and the other transport pilots began a remarkably efficient and speedy delivery of Chinese troops back to China. It was remarkable in that the Americans often did not know how many individuals or how much equipment was to be transported. It seemed that every day additional units were added to those selected to be flown back. The Tenth Air Force later reported that Grubworm appeared to be an operation to haul “an unknown amount of cargo, with an indefinite number of aircraft, to an undetermined number of bases.”48
Grubworm was completed on January 5, 1945, despite weather over the Hump that often threatened to force the cancellation of missions. There was a momentary suspension of the operation between December 16 and December 22 when the ground situation seemed to be improving in China. This allowed the hardworking transport crews to get some needed rest and their aircraft to receive maintenance.
All of the horses and mules were hauled by the Air Commandos. Bamboo stalls were fitted into the C-47s, and their floors were covered to prevent damage. Because the flight crews could not then reach the cockpit through the cargo cabin, they had to enter through the baggage door in the forward fuselage. The animals proved surprisingly docile; only one acted up in any manner.
When Grubworm ended the two Air commando squadrons had flown 488 sorties, carrying 3,451 personnel and 488 animals. The ATC squadrons accounted for 597 sorties, and the Tenth Air Force units added another 243 sorties. A total of 25,095 Chinese troops were moved. In addition, forty-two jeeps, forty-eight 75-mm howitzers, forty-eight 4.2-in. mortars, and forty-eight antitank guns were transported. Grubworm was not a well-known operation compared with those mounted in Europe, but it was one of the major accomplishments of USAAF transport units in World War II.49
While the 319th had been participating in Grubworm, the other 1st ACG units had hardly been resting, and a new unit had been added to the group. This was the Night Intruder Section with B-25Hs. The attachment of this section is somewhat mysterious. It is not known what organization supplied the Mitchells—whether it was CBI Air Service Command or one of the bomb groups—and no orders can be found attaching the bombers to the 1st ACG. Nonetheless, the B-25s became very useful and welcome additions to the group. Capt. Edward Wagner, a UC-64 pilot during Operation Thursday, was named commander of the Night Intruder Section.50
The bombers flew their missions by the light of the moon, and when the moon waned, they would return to Asansol until the moon’s next phase. Based at Chittagong in what is now Bangladesh for operations, the Night Intruders made their operational debut on November 25, when four B-25s went out to harass enemy supply lines and airfields. The Air Commandos became very adept at destroying locomotives with their 75-mm cannon, as well as trucks and railway rolling stock. Additionally, the Night Intruders provided valuable information for early morning fighter sweeps by observing road and rail traffic.51
Although Japanese antiaircraft fire was light at first, it picked up quickly as the B-25s became more destructive. Capt. Frank B. Merchant found out the hard way that this fire could be very accurate. On the night of December 29 Merchant and his crew were pulling off from strafing a train when a stream of tracers began tracking them. Merchant felt and heard a thud and saw the oil pressure jump on one of his engines. The top turret gunner called out that something had just gone past his leg.
Merchant began a climb. A quick check with his crew showed that everyone was okay, though one man had been hit in the back by a ricochet and been bruised. As the B-25 climbed through five thousand feet, the radio operator reported the left vertical stabilizer was getting coated with oil. Merchant continued to climb, hoping that both engines would keep purring, but he also told his crew to prepare to jettison the guns, ammunition, tools, and other loose equipment.
Suddenly, the left engine’s oil pressure dropped to zero, followed shortly by its propeller beginning to run away. Merchant shut down the engine immediately and feathered the propeller. His crew began to toss equipment out, and most of it was jettisoned quickly. In the rear of the plane, though, there was a difference of opinion on what to save until the last—machine guns or tool boxes. The tail gunner wanted to wait until the last minute to throw his guns out, while the crew chief was loath to part with the tool boxes containing his carefully obtained tools. The pair finally came to an agreement under which the gunner was able to save some of the more irreplaceable gun parts, and the crew chief got to keep a few of his favorite pliers and wrenches.
When he was unable to transfer fuel from the left to right tanks, Merchant knew he was not going much farther. To make things worse, ground fog had covered most of the area, and it was out of the question to crash land. Then, a break in the fog showed trucks moving along a road, headlights blazing. Merchant ordered his crew out. He was the last to go. The Air Commandos had picked a good spot to bail out. The trucks they had seen were British, and most of the Americans had been picked up within a few hours. Only the radio operator decided to wait for daylight, wrapping himself in his chute and making himself comfortable. A few sprained ankles and minor cuts and bruises were all the crew suffered, and they were back flying a couple of weeks later.52
Meanwhile, the 6th Fighter Squadron replaced its sister squadron at Fenny on December 1. During its stay the 5th Squadron had compiled an outstanding record, flying 355 sorties on 51 missions. Although escorting the B-25s remained the primary mission, bridge busting had occupied a great deal of the 5th’s time, as it would for the 6th also. The ACG fighters’ attacks on these structures were generally accurate, but the industrious Japanese kept repairing the bridges, so the targets had to be revisited often. The Mu River bypass, dubbed “Old Faithful,” was in particular attacked and reattacked. The Japanese, desperate to keep that vital rail line open, continued to repair it after every raid. Not until the advancing Fourteenth Army drove the Japanese back was that bridge finally removed from the target list.53
Other bridges were also sturdy. Such a structure was the bridge at Sinthegon, which had heavy concrete abutments. An attack on December 15 by eight planes dropping sixteen 500-pound bombs was unsuccessful. A return the next day by ten P-47s was equally ineffectual. Even after a third raid by ten aircraft on the December 20, the bridge remained serviceable.54
The 6th Fighter Squadron wasted no time getting started at Fenny, flying its first missions the morning after its arrival. Eleven Thunderbolts made a sweep of the Heho, Meiktila, and Kangaung airfields, while another eight aircraft escorted thirty-two Mitchells to Yamethin, south of Meiktila. Sadly, a pilot was lost on the fighter sweep. Finding nothing on the airfields, the Air Commandos began prowling for targets. Near Yanzingyi, 2nd Lt. Brents M. Lowry found a line of boxcars. As he strafed them, one erupted in a huge blast, and the explosion engulfed Lowry’s plane. A pass over the area later revealed just small pieces of the P-47 scattered about.55
By this time Japanese aircraft had almost disappeared from the air. Every now and then, however, a few would put in an appearance. On December 13 the two Air Commando squadrons joined with the Thunderbolt-equipped 30 Squadron and 135 Squadron of the RAF to escort a dozen RAF B-24s on a mission to bomb bridges. As the mixed escort unit neared the target Pitts, the 6th Fighter Squadron’s commander, sighted Oscars high and to the left of the formation. Klarr’s flight was nearest the enemy, and Pitts told him, “Go get ’em!” Klarr pulled up and fired a burst at the enemy leader. The Oscar began to smoke, then rolled over and headed for the deck. Klarr’s wingman, Lt. A. E. Haunt, fired at a second Oscar and blew off several pieces of it. Although Klarr believed he had scored a kill, he was credited only for a probable, and Haunt was given credit for one plane damaged.56
The two 1st ACG fighter squadrons again exchanged places on December 28, and as 1945 began, the Air Commandos and Slim’s Fourteenth Army were ready and eager to carry the fight to the enemy. The final battle for Burma was about to commence.