Chapter 11


A Far-Ranging War

The novelty of being in a foreign country, with its exotic people, animals, and scenery, soon wore off the Air Commandos sitting at Kalaikunda. They had too much to do than admire the sights, anyway. When the group’s equipment that had also come over on the USS Pope finally arrived via the inimitable Indian railway system, all units began setting up their supply sections and orderly rooms. Tents began to display more individuality, as the men made frequent midnight requisitioning forays on nearby salvage dumps and abandoned buildings. Packing crates, bamboo, and bits of Indian fabric were turned into all kinds of furniture, from ashtrays to beds. With considerable ingenuity and skill, the men of the 1st Fighter Squadron constructed a veritable nightclub in the rice paddies of India as their alert room. It was so comfortable and nicely appointed that DeBolt wondered that the squadron had its “rest house, but where was the work room?”1

Some of this labor had to be redone when a strong storm hit Kalaikunda on January 6. The wind pulled tent stakes out of the mud and collapsed a number of tents, forcing the occupants to seek firmer and higher ground. The storm passed quickly, though, and the Air Commandos soon had their quarters reconstructed. While the storm dampened the men physically, it did not dampen their spirits, which rose spectacularly the following day with the delivery of the group’s first Mustang. The plane was a brand-new bubble-top P-51D, sparkling in the sun in its silver finish. To the men of the fighter squadrons the P-51D was a work of art far superior to the weary P-51Bs and Cs they had flown in the States. By the end of the month each squadron had received most of their P-51Ds, plus several F-6Ds, photo–reconnaissance versions of the Mustang. The fighters were swiftly adorned with the group’s spectacular markings of black lightning bolts on wings and fuselage, plus black theater identification bands on the wings and tail surfaces. Having seen the question mark emblem carried on the tails of the 1st ACG’s C-47s, the 2nd ACG decided to place an exclamation point on the tails of its aircraft. Meanwhile, the new group was officially assigned to operate under the Combat Cargo Task Force.2

Even as they were receiving their aircraft, the 2nd ACG’s fighter pilots began logging combat time, albeit on ferry flights. On January 13 ten pilots from each squadron ferried new P-51Ds across the Hump to Chengkung, a field near Kunming, China.3

As the fighter squadrons settled in, the 317th TCS had already seen action, as mentioned above. The transport squadron made brief visits to Kalaikunda as it moved here and there in India and Burma to supply troops in the field and to train British glider troops. This constant movement put a great strain on the 317th, as it seldom remained in one spot long enough to do proper maintenance on its aircraft or let its men get adequate rest. Nonetheless, the 317th continued to operate with great efficiency, receiving numerous congratulatory messages from the units it supported.4

The liaison squadrons also received new aircraft in the form of L-5Bs capable of carrying a litter. In a theater always facing shortages of almost everything, but particularly of transports and liaison aircraft, the arrival of the 2nd ACG and its three liaison squadrons was greeted warmly. It did not take long for the light planes to be pried away from the group’s direct control and to operate semiautonomously away from the rest of the Air Commandos. To acclimate them to conditions in the theater, a few planes and pilots were sent forward to operate with frontline units. The 156th LS sent six L-5s to the Shwebo area to work with the British XXXIII Corps, which was preparing to attack toward Mandalay. The fliers spent eight days flying high-ranking officers around the front lines and making mail deliveries to the troops before returning to Kalaikunda. Caught later in a tornado that destroyed many of its aircraft, the 156th would not be sent back to the front until April 8, when it reinforced the 155th LS at Myitchea.

In the meantime the 127th LS was the first 2nd ACG unit other than the 317th TCS to be committed in full strength, when it was dispatched to Cox’s Bazar on January 19 to support the XV Indian Corps. The 155th LS spent time at Lalitpur practicing with the Chindits’ 23rd Brigade before being assigned to the IV Corps at Sinthe on February 21.5

The liaison airmen quickly discovered that flying over the jungle was quite different from what they had experienced while training over Florida’s relatively open terrain. Navigation was much more difficult while flying over the featureless jungle canopy. Also, turbulence could be dangerous to the low-flying aircraft, as could mechanical problems, which pilots could have little time to fix. The 127th LS lost three planes in February in just such situations. Fortunately, the pilots and the wounded they were transporting survived the crash landings.6

The 2nd Fighter Squadron was not as lucky as the liaison squadrons. Shortly after arriving in India the 2nd ACG’s fighter squadrons received a shipment of rockets for their Mustangs. The 4.5-inch rockets could be mounted in triple tubes under each wing. While not the most accurate projectiles, the rockets still packed a potent punch. The airmen were sent to the Ranchi gunnery range for instruction by RAF Beaufighter pilots, who had been using rockets for some time. One of the old China hands, Captain Tempest, was practicing his rocket firing on February 6. Although his approach to the target looked fine to observers on the ground, he may have carried his pass too low. Just after firing his rockets, it appeared that Tempest was attempting an abrupt pull-up, but his plane snapped to the left and plunged into the ground.7

That same day Colonel Chase was made commander of the 1st Provisional Fighter Group that was made up of the fighter squadrons of both the ACGs and the 1st ACG’s B-25 section. Although both groups’ squadrons flew missions together, some 2nd ACG fliers claimed later that they never saw a P-47 from the 1st ACG.8

Early in February the 317th TCS flew members of the 327th ADS and the 236th Medical Dispensary to Cox’s Bazar to prepare the field for the arrival of the fighter squadrons. The squadrons operated from there for much of their stay in the CBI. Additionally, the C-47s flew in stocks of bombs and other equipment for the fighters. Cox’s Bazar lay just a few miles from the Burmese border and was situated on a narrow strip of land jutting into the Bay of Bengal. Space was at a premium, so some units already there were moved to other fields to accommodate the Air Commandos’ P-51s.

Cox’s Bazar was basically one large sand dune, which made dust and erosion a serious problem. Its runway and taxiways were tarred, but the hardstands were covered with a unique pattern of bamboo weaving overlaid with pierced steel plank. This worked surprisingly well in keeping both dust and erosion in check.9

As soon as the 317th finished transporting the advanced party to Cox’s Bazar, it moved to Palel to join the 319th TCS. There, the two Air Commando squadrons were combined into the 1st Provisional Troop Carrier Group which was under the direct command of Major Holm and came under the operational control of the Combat Cargo Task Force. At Palel, the 317th ran the control tower, while the 319th handled the field lighting. The field became a major staging point of both troops and supplies for Operation Multivite, the 14th Army’s offensive toward Mandalay and Meiktila that had begun in mid-January.10 Throughout the fighting for Mandalay the 317th had its planes in the air twelve hours a day or longer, supplying the frontline troops with ammunition, rations, gasoline, and clothing.

Meanwhile, in anticipation of the planes’ use when one of the Meiktila airstrips was captured, the 317th had towed sixteen gliders loaded with engineering equipment from Kalaikunda to Sinthe, which was about twenty-five miles northwest of Nyaungu. As it turned out, however, when the field at Thabutkon, twenty-five miles northwest of Meiktila, was captured in good condition on February 26, only one CG-4 was needed, and the rest of the glider operation was canceled.

A fly-in of the 99th Indian Infantry Brigade from Palel to Thabutkon code-named Crossbow began on the 27th, when the glider carrying radar and signal equipment and runway lighting was towed from Sinthe in midmorning. An hour and one-half later a 317th TCS C-47 landed the first combat troops. During the day the planes of the 1st Provisional Troop Carrier Group flew some sixty-three sorties into Thabutkon. The airfield’s capture did not mean that the enemy had been driven far from it. Both Air Commando TCSs found it to be quite a hot spot. Enemy mortar and artillery fire continued to fall within yards of the strip for some time. Japanese snipers also made nuisances of themselves by holing several planes, although with little damage.

On the first day of the operation the 317th did lose one plane when it landed downwind and ran off the end of the runway. Fortunately, there were no injuries to the crew or passengers. As the British and Indian infantrymen pushed the Japanese back and the fields at Meiktila became available, Thabutkon became less essential, and it was closed on the evening of March 3. The 317th’s C-47s had been very busy during the operation, transporting more than one thousand troops of the 99th Indian Infantry Brigade and delivering 330 tons of supplies.11

General Slim was especially pleased with the efforts of the troop carriers, writing Stratemeyer, “Particularly I am impressed with the record of the transport squadrons which lifted 99 Brigade into Thabutkon. Their five days of practically continuous flying without losing a single sortie because of maintenance difficulties is outstanding.”12

The 2nd ACG’s fighters flew their first offensive combat sorties in support of the 7th Division. The fighters, which had been under the operational control of the 224 Group but were then under IV Corps’ control, had arrived at Cox’s Bazar on February 13. The fighter squadrons had hardly settled in before they were being briefed for a mission to be flown the next day. Their targets were in front of the 7th Division near Pakokku.

On the afternoon of February 14 forty P-51s, twenty from each ACG fighter squadron, took off for Pakokku. Each plane carried a pair of 500-pound bombs. Chase led the 1st Fighter Squadron, and Pryor led the 2nd Fighter Squadron. Coached onto their targets by RAF ground parties operating as visual control parties (VCPs), a British version of U.S. forward air controllers, the Americans made accurate attacks on the enemy. Many fires and heavy smoke attested to this accuracy. Over the next several days the Air Commando units continued their support of the 7th Division as it expanded its bridgehead.13

Communications difficulties occasionally hampered the fighter squadrons on these missions. Arduous conditions on the ground knocked out most of the ground VHF radios, so they had to switch to HF radios. However, the 2nd ACG aircraft lacked the HF radios used by the VCPs. As a result instructions from the ground parties had to be relayed to the group’s intelligence officer, Major Mallen, at IV Corps headquarters, who then radioed the fliers. It was an imperfect and time-consuming process, but it worked. In contrast the P-47s of the 1st ACG carried both HF and VHF radios, and when they were on joint missions, the P-47 flight leaders would pass instructions from the VCPs on to the P-51D pilots.14

From February 14 until March 1 the Air Commando fighters were up almost daily supporting IV Corps units. During that period the 2nd Fighter Squadron flew 277 combat sorties. Villages in the Meiktila area that were believed to be harboring Japanese troops were hit using bombs, rockets, and napalm. The latter often became the weapon of choice on these missions. Its flames not only killed the enemy, but also helped clear the dense foliage covering enemy positions.15

The British offensive brought out the JAAF in force. On February 17 eight Oscars from the 64th Sentai strafed British and Indian troops near Nyaungu and also shot down an L-5. Two days later the enemy planes appeared again, at one point bouncing three 5th Fighter Squadron P-47s. The Thunderbolts escaped, and RAF Spitfires claimed several victories when they were able to intercept the enemy planes. Worried about this enemy activity, the 224 Group directed the 2nd ACG to hit Japanese airfields at Toungoo, Magwe, and Pyinmana. It was believed these fields were being used by the Japanese as advanced bases. The ACG fighter squadrons struck the fields on February 17, strafing and dropping napalm, but no enemy aircraft were seen. Meiktila was attacked on February 23 but, again, no aircraft appeared to be present.16

Concerned about the enemy air attacks, IV Corps requested that the Air Commandos station some aircraft at Sinthe, which lay a few miles south of corps headquarters. The 1st Fighter Squadron sent six Mustangs, and the 2nd Fighter Squadron sent another four aircraft to Sinthe on February 22. The Air Commandos remained at Sinthe for the next ten days. Nothing untoward happened for the first couple of days as the Mustangs covered the bridgehead and patrolled over Meiktila. That these missions could be dangerous, though, was underscored on February 25, when a couple of 2nd Fighter Squadron pilots had to bail out of their stricken planes.

First Lt. Robert A. Beck and Capt. Edward E. Atha had taken off from Sinthe in hopes of intercepting a group of enemy fighters that had been reported to be in the area. Near Ledawyo, Beck’s plane was hit by 20-mm antiaircraft fire. Pieces of cowling flew off, and his engine seized. Beck prepared to bail out, releasing his canopy and unbuckling his harness. Expecting to have to pull his ripcord immediately, he grabbed it and stood up to jump. The howling wind caught his arm and flung it back against the seat’s armor plate, causing him to pull the ripcord. His chute began to blossom in the cockpit! Beck hardly had time to curse when he was suddenly yanked from the cockpit.

There was another tremendous shock as his chute snagged on his plane’s tail and then tore loose, leaving a big hole in the chute. As Beck drifted down he noticed he was descending toward the burning remains of his P-51. Not wishing to burn to death, Beck chanced slipping his torn parachute to avoid the flames. It worked, but he fell like a stone toward the ground. He hit hard and sprained an arm and a leg, but fortunately did not suffer more serious injuries. Well behind enemy lines, Beck hobbled to nearby cover while Atha headed back to base to report the shootdown. Upon hearing of Beck’s plight, Maj. Charles M. Gordon rushed over to the other side of the field to grab an L-5 for a rescue attempt.

With Atha leading an escort of several other P-51s, Gordon headed for the spot where Beck had bailed out. Gordon landed in a rice paddy about half a mile from where Beck was hiding. The downed pilot saw the L-5 land and hobbled toward it. Gordon never shut off his engine, and as soon as Beck climbed in, he took off. Gordon’s takeoff from the tiny clearing almost led to two people being behind enemy lines, for he clipped the top of a tree. Luckily, it was just a glancing blow, and Gordon had Beck home just three hours after he had been shot down. Back at Sinthe Beck swiftly drained the quarter-full bottle of whiskey supplied him.17

Neither Gordon’s nor Atha’s day was over yet. Later in the day Atha went out again and found himself having to leave his Mustang when its engine seized. Gordon again comandeered an L-5 for a rescue attempt. Misfortune befell him this time. As he attempted to land in the growing darkness, he overshot a rice paddy and smashed into a grove of trees. His jaw, nose, and one leg were broken, but he had landed near some British troops, who soon pulled him from the wreckage. Gordon’s combat days were over, however. His valor was noted by the award of the Silver Star. As for Atha, he spent the next fifteen hours behind enemy lines, until he was rescued by British troops.18

Following the capture of Thabutkon, IV Corps drove toward Meiktila, which fell on March 4. That would not be the end of the fighting. His eyes still focused on Mandalay, although he considered the only reason for defending it was for its prestige value, Lt. Gen. Kimura Hyotaro, commander of the Burma Area Army, was slow to react to the danger developing at Meiktila. When he finally realized his vulnerability Kimura dispatched two divisions (less one regiment each) and the remnants of a third division, plus smaller units, to the aid of the 3,500 defenders of the town. As it turned out, the decisive battle for central Burma was fought not at legendary Mandalay, but at the little-known town of Meiktila.

Instead of the pervasive jungle that covered so much of northern and central Burma, a broad plain covered by scattered trees and cacti surrounded Meiktila. A few hillocks dotted the plain, and two lakes lay north and south of town. The two main airfields were about three miles east of Meiktila. These would prove critical in the coming days because although the town had fallen, the Japanese were not about to allow the British to keep it. Newly arriving enemy units cut the IV Corps’ land route back to its Irrawaddy bridgehead, and the corps found itself under siege and fighting a desperate battle. Control of the airfields was essential if the British were to retain Meiktila.19

The fight for the airfields was particularly fierce, as first one side and then the other gained control. Into this maelstrom flew the Air Commando C-47s. The first transports left Palel for Meiktila on the morning of March 15 carrying men of the 9th Brigade. Enemy artillery fire was seen bursting on the field as the aircraft came in to land. Luckily, only one 1st ACG plane suffered minor damage. After quickly unloading their passengers the C-47s returned to Palel to pick up more troops. These afternoon missions would be much more eventful.

After leaving Palel around 2:00 PM, the aircraft were directed by IV Corps to divert to Nyaungu because of heavy shelling of the field at Meiktila. Six of the 317th’s planes did not receive this message and proceeded on to their destination. Upon their arrival they found nothing much going on and unloaded their troops and supplies without difficulty. The remaining aircraft, which had landed at Nyaungu and then took off again for Meiktila, had a far more interesting time.

As the C-47s approached the airfield, artillery fire could be seen bursting all around the field and in the unloading area. The Air Commandos landed, nevertheless, but heeded the tower’s urgent instructions, “Land, taxi to the south end! Kick ’em out and get the hell out of here! Do not cut engines!”

When 1st Lt. Wayne Bishop began to land, he saw a shell hit midway down the runway. Pouring the coal to his plane, Bishop buzzed the runway to check its condition and then came around to land. More shells landed nearby as he taxied rapidly to the unloading area. Suddenly, an explosion under the tail threw everyone in the rear of the plane to the floor. Dust and smoke obscured the plane, and the tower called to see if they were okay. A quick inspection found nothing wrong, and everyone was speedily unloaded. Bishop took off as soon as possible, becoming airborne before reaching a huge shell hole in the runway. Further inspection of his plane back at Palel revealed several dents in its right elevator.

First Lt. Bert Russell also had some exciting moments. Russell had no problem landing and unloading even though the Japanese were shelling the airstrip. Takeoff was a different case. A shell hit fifty feet behind his plane as he taxied out, severely shaking the aircraft. As the crew chief checked out the tail section for damage, another shell burst seventy-five feet back, throwing the crew chief to his knees. Then, as Russell began to take off and had raised his tail, a shell struck in front of him. He jammed on the brakes and swerved left to miss the hole. Bennett stopped briefly to have his crew chief check again for damage and then took off down the middle of the runway. Standing in the C-47’s astrodome, the radio operator saw an explosion at the spot where they had stopped. It had been a very close call.20

Flights into Meiktila the next day were just as exciting and more costly for the 317th. Because of enemy activity the morning missions were diverted to Nyaungu, where their equipment was unloaded before the planes returned to Palel. The transports returned to Meiktila that afternoon to find the field still under fire. Despite the shelling the Air Commando C-47s landed. Unloading was a chore because as soon as an aircraft stopped, the soldiers on board leaped off to head for foxholes, leaving the crews to unload the equipment.

First Lt. Roy Burger had just landed and was taxiing to the unloading area when a shell struck his aircraft’s tail and collapsed it. Expecting another shell, Burger almost bent his throttles as he slammed them forward to gain speed. The drag of the ruptured tail kept him motoring at but ten miles per hour, however. Just as he reached the parking area, his plane received a direct hit on its right wing, which then burst into flames. Five Indian soldiers, the crew chief, and the radio operator managed to escape through the cargo door, but only after removing its hinges.

Meanwhile, the rapidly spreading blaze had trapped Burger, his copilot, and three other Indians in the front. Burger did not want to leave by the top escape hatch because he feared the right gas tank would explode. Instead, he kept trying to batter his way through a jammed escape hatch behind his seat. When he noticed everyone else going out the top, he decided to follow. Just as he left the airplane the cockpit was enveloped in flames. Luckily, those aboard suffered only minor injuries. The C-47 was a total loss, however.21

The 317th TCS continued to fly in reinforcements on March 17 and March 18. After the furor of the previous two days, these were remarkably peaceful. The lull was only temporary, though. On the 19th, the Air Commandos began delivering ammunition to Meiktila, and the enemy resumed bombardment of the field. Japanese snipers also crept close to fire on the transports. One airplane was hit by rifle fire on successive days, resulting in a “pretty breezy ship.” Another C-47 came perilously close to crashing when a shell exploded just below it as the plane was landing. It rocked violently and the pilot almost lost control. Coupled with a strong crosswind, the rocking caused the landing to be in a crab and hard. The C-47’s strong landing gear held up, though, and plane came to a safe stop.22

Another crew who also had a close call was that of Lt. Charles Brook and Lt. Glen Matousek. They had flown in the last supplies of the day before the British closed the strip for the night. Shellfire was sprinkling the strip when Brook and Matousek stopped to unload. The Indian troops they had brought in were so eager to get off the plane and into a foxhole that most left their duffel bags on the plane. The two pilots and the crew chief had to pitch the bags out onto the ground.

As soon as the last bag had been thrown out, Brook went back to the cockpit to prepare for a quick takeoff. In the meantime and unknown to either Brook or the crew chief, Matousek had jumped off the C-47 to kick away some of the bags that had fallen in front of the tail wheel. The crew chief closed the cargo door, and upon hearing the door slam shut, Brook advanced the throttles and began to taxi.

Suddenly, Brook heard a loud banging from the rear of the plane and the crew chief yelling to stop. Looking back to see what the problem was, Brook saw that the crew chief had opened the door and that Matousek was hanging onto it for dear life. Brook stopped just long enough for the crew chief to haul the copilot aboard and close the door.

He did not wait for Matousek to reach the cockpit to resume takeoff. Enemy shells were falling on the strip in increasing numbers, so Brook went to full power and headed down the runway. One shell hit the plane midway down the fuselage opposite the cargo door, leaving a big hole on that side of the C-47 and completely taking out the plane’s latrine. The explosion shoved the transport 45 degrees to the right. Brook stood hard on the left rudder pedal and was able to straighten out his plane, although with only one wheel on the runway. After a couple of bounces over the hard ground, he eased his plane back on the runway and managed to take off. Meiktila had been a very hot spot.23

While the battle for Mandalay had been important, it was the fighting around Meiktila that had doomed the Japanese. The attack there had split the enemy forces, placing them in danger of being defeated in detail. The Burma Area Army commander, General Kimura, rushed many troops to the defense of the town. They came close to pushing back the British and Indian troops several times, but they did not succeed and suffered horrendous losses in the process. Coupled with the severe casualties sustained by the Mandalay defenders, these losses could not be endured. Although Slim and his subordinates did not know it yet, the Burma Area Army was no longer an effective fighting force. Still, even a wounded animal can remain a danger and inflict serious injury if not treated with caution.

The land corridor was finally reopened, and the services of the 317th TCS and 319th TCS were no longer needed at Meiktila. This did not mean the Air Commandos would get a rest. For the remainder of the month the 317th was kept very busy hauling gasoline, rations, ammunition, and troops to both XXXIII Corps and IV Corps at various fields throughout central Burma.

It was not only the Japanese with which the Air Commandos had to contend, but the elements, as well. As the battle raged around Meiktila the men back at Kalaikunda discovered that Mother Nature packed a pretty good punch herself. March 12 began as just another warm, sunny day at the 2nd ACG’s home base. Parked around the field were numerous aircraft of the 2nd ACG and other units. Most of the L-5s of the 156th LS had been checked out, and the squadron was awaiting its first real combat missions. Maintenance was being done on other aircraft before sending them to the group’s forward fields.

Clouds started building in late afternoon, and the sky darkened. This was nothing new, but things would be different this time. Lightning began to play about the field. Thunder roiled the air. Within a few minutes the light breeze kicked up to tornado velocity. Maintenance crews scrambled to tie down planes and set brakes. Their efforts came to naught. Shortly before 8:00 PM the howling wind brought with it sheets of rain, followed by hailstones the size of billiard balls.

The storm bellowed for 15 minutes, picking up planes like they were toys. Four C-46s belonging to the 1st Air Transport Squadron (Mobile) of the XX Bomber Command became airborne before crashing back to earth.24 L-5s were mashed together in stacks of four. Gliders became kindling. Tents blew away, and other structures collapsed. Lights failed, and communications were knocked out. Men were flung through the air. At last, the storm passed.

When they could crawl from under the debris that littered the field, the Air Commandos were appalled at the destruction. The 2nd ACG lost twelve F-6Ds, forty-five L-5s, seven UC-64s, and forty-three gliders to the storm. The 1st Air Transport Squadron (ATS) had five C-46s destroyed and had another eleven C-46s and C-47s damaged. Twelve of the 93rd Fighter Squadron’s P-47s were damaged. A hangar was demolished, and many other buildings had various degrees of damage. Some two hundred men had been injured (most from the non-ACG units), and eight men of the 1st ATS had been killed when their quarters collapsed.

The ACG’s dispensary performed yeoman service following the storm, receiving and caring for personnel as they were brought in and administering first aid to men all over the field. For all the damage Kalaikunda experienced, though, operations continued, albeit at a reduced pace. This was a testament to the ingenuity and perseverance of the Air Commandos. Unluckily for the 156th LS, which had been just days from being committed to action, the loss of so many aircraft delayed their entrance into combat for several more weeks.25

The activities of the liaison squadrons were very important to the ground campaign in Burma. While the fighters and transports may have been more glamorous or generated more press, the operations of the light planes brought more praise from the ground troops. While the 156th was digging out at Kalaikunda, the other squadrons had already been seeing action. Much of the 155th LS’s activities in February included courier flights and reconnaissance missions for the 2nd ACG’s intelligence section. Air Commando aircraft were also sent to Pauk to work with the 7th Division and the 17th Division as they drove toward Meiktila.

The 127th LS was very busy supporting the British offensive in Arakan. Missions for this squadron ran the gamut from evacuating wounded to dropping supplies and couriering men and matériel and almost anything else an L-5 or UC-64 could do. High-ranking officers were often carried on inspection trips, but one special personage the 127th carried was Lady Mountbatten. The wife of the SEAC commander held the rank of a general officer in the Queen’s Ambulance Corps and was on an inspection visit to forward hospitals and casualty clearing stations for which 127th pilots took her from place to place.26 The 127th kept a detachment at Akyab throughout March and regularly rotated flights between there and Kalaikunda.

The 155th saw action at Meiktila. Perhaps the most valuable service the light planes provided at Meiktila was the evacuation of wounded. During March the 155th evacuated 1,201 patients. In addition, the unit continued to fly other missions, including artillery spotting and, on a couple of occasions, the transport of Japanese prisoners to the rear for interrogation. It was hard, demanding duty that had the pilots flying from dawn to dusk and the mechanics performing maintenance whenever they could in the most primitive of conditions. And it was dangerous duty. Several planes were holed by enemy gunfire, but fortunately without injury or loss.27

While the battle raged at Meiktila the 2nd ACG’s fighter squadrons entered a new phase of operations. Although Meiktila remained a hot spot for the next couple of weeks, support of the ground forces could be handled by other air units, and the Air Commandos were released from that support. They were then set to undertake the type of mission fighter pilots trained for and sought—counterair operations.