Japanese airpower in Southeast Asia was a shell of its former self by early 1945. Many irreplaceable aircraft, not to say pilots, had been lost to the growing number of Allied aircraft and skilled pilots. Then, too, following the invasion of the Philippines in October 1944, the Japanese had begun transferring their aircraft from Southeast Asia to other theaters where they saw more imminent danger. From a Japanese force of 525 combat aircraft in southeast Asia in June 1944, the number had dwindled to only 258 in January 1945.1 These few aircraft were still capable of inflicting serious pain on unsuspecting targets, however.
On Christmas Day 1944, three Lilys from the 8th Sentai managed to reach Calcutta, where they excited the populace but created little damage. Two of the three attackers were brought down by defending Beaufighters. Much more vulnerable were the USAAF and RAF transports. Japanese fighters downed five C-47s in November, destroyed two USAAF C-47s on the ground at Onbauk on January 12, and shot down two RAF DC-3 Dakotas near Shwebo on January 12. Hit-and-run raids on General Slim’s troops were seldom very successful, but an inordinate number of Allied aircraft had to be diverted from ground support missions to combat the threat.2
With the Japanese finally being pushed away from Meiktila, IV Corps did not require as much close support, and the 2nd ACG’s fighter squadrons could be utilized in counterair operations. On March 6 the fighter squadrons returned to the operational control of the 224 Group. The following day the fighters escorted B-24s to Moulmein and Martaban, southeast of Rangoon. No enemy aircraft attempted to intercept the bombers, and the fighter pilots returned to Cox’s Bazar with nothing more than some sore rear ends from the flight.
A visit to air bases at Rangoon on March 8 proved more profitable. Chase led thirty-one Mustangs from both 2nd ACG fighter squadrons against the fields at Mingaladon and Hmawbi that afternoon. Not many enemy aircraft were found, but those that were discovered were caught flatfooted. As he led the 1st Fighter Squadron over Mingaladon, Chase saw an Oscar on the ground and burned it. Another parked Oscar caught his eye, and Chase slammed more shells into it. Although he claimed one aircraft destroyed and a second probably destroyed, a Tenth Air Force review changed that to just one aircraft probably destroyed. Capt. Walter R. Eason also claimed an Oscar destroyed during his pass, but the claims review changed that to damaged.
The enemy was slow to react but did shatter the canopy of one Mustang without causing injury to the pilot and holed another plane. That was the extent of the damage to the Air Commandos.
For its part the 2nd Fighter Squadron found no planes at Hwambi and took out their frustrations on the ground installations there. The Air Commandos could put only one probable and one damaged enemy plane into their “game bag,” as they called their record of victories, for this mission, but they were just warming up. Something more exciting was in the offing.3
Another escort mission to Rangoon on March 9 should have alerted the Japanese that Allied fighters were out in force offensively and might press farther south, but it appears that they remained unconvinced that the Allies could or wanted to press farther south. They did not realize how far P-51s could fly or just what the Allied air planners had in store. Levi Chase had been studying the problem of bringing the JAAF out into the open and destroying it for some time. It was not enough to nibble at the edges of the enemy’s airpower in Burma. The Japanese were holding back their main forces in Thailand and French Indochina (now Vietnam) and were only sending aircraft to forward bases in Burma to conduct quick forays against the Allies. It was necessary to strike at the heart of Japanese airpower to inflict the greatest damage.
Don Muang Airfield, located 12 miles north of Bangkok, had been a major base for the Japanese 5th Air Division since early in the war. It had become even more important as the central staging base for operations into Burma as JAAF units were pulled out of that country. The field was about 780 miles from the nearest Allied airfield, Cox’s Bazar, and this meant that it was normally vulnerable only to attacks by long-range bombers. Though such attacks could put Don Muang out of action temporarily, they seldom caught aircraft on the ground because the Allied bombers usually were detected far enough distant that the Japanese planes could be flown to safety.
Thanks to aerial reconnaissance and agents on the ground, Allied intelligence on JAAF activities at Don Muang were generally reliable. Chase believed the Japanese would not expect supposedly short-ranged fighters to appear and would thus be more likely to be caught by surprise if P-51s were sent in attack. He calculated fuel management over and over using data collected from the hours of training the 2nd ACG fighter squadrons had flown in the United States. He figured the maximum weights a Mustang could carry, and he chose the routes out and back with care. The mission would require precision flying and navigation; there was no room for error. Still, Chase knew his pilots could do it.
With the data under his arm, Chase flew to Calcutta to discuss his plans with Stratemeyer. The EAC commander was doubtful about Chase’s plans, but the Air Commando was persuasive, and Stratemeyer finally gave his approval.4
The moment for the Don Muang attack was not long in coming. On March 12 aerial reconnaissance spotted more than fifty aircraft parked around the Japanese airfield. Among these aircraft were Sallys, Helens, Lilys, and many Oscars. Ground reports confirmed the number of aircraft, and the EAC quickly passed the reports on to the 2nd ACG. This would be the longest fighter mission of the war, corresponding to a flight from England to Vienna and back. While the shuttle missions flown by Eighth Air Force fighters from England to Russia were longer from takeoff to target, some 1,440 miles, they were one-way missions.
The Don Muang mission was set for March 15. Upon receipt of the orders authorizing the mission, Chase told the fighter squadron operations and engineering officers to ready forty aircraft. On the evening of the 14th Chase and Mallen briefed the pilots on the target. There were audible intakes of breath as the pilots saw how far they were going to fly, but when they were told what targets awaited them, smiles of anticipation of good hunting broke out. Maps with courses plotted, and photos of Don Muang were given to the element leaders.
At 8:00 AM the following morning, the final briefing was given. Chase, who would lead the attack, gave the operational details of the mission. The two squadrons would proceed on a course to an initial point (IP) about thirty-five miles north of Bangkok. From there, the 1st Fighter Squadrons would turn south toward Don Muang. The 2nd Fighter Squadron, led by Pryor, was to turn to a heading of 210 degrees and then attack from the west about two minutes after the 1st had. The fliers were told to make only one pass over the field. They would not have enough fuel to stick around, so they were to make their lone pass a good one. Further briefings were given on what the enemy still had at Don Muang, the antiaircraft artillery situation, escape and evasion procedures, and the weather. The pilots went over their call signs and other information, and then it was time to head for their planes.
They were met by their ground crews who had been attending meticulously to their charges throughout the night and early morning. A quick walk-around of their planes, and the airmen climbed into their cockpits and, with the help of their crew chiefs, strapped in. Takeoff had been set for 10:15 AM, and the signal came from the ramshackle structure they called the control tower, “Start engines!” A propeller flicked over on one plane, followed by another and another. There was a slight delay as Chase had a problem with his carburetor air intake filter system fixed. Soon, the Air Commando ramp throbbed to the sound of forty Merlin engines idling. Another signal, and Chase led a parade of fighters weaving to the runway. One final signal, and he roared down the runway, followed closely by the rest of the force. By 10:29, the last Mustang was off the ground, and the Air Commandos had begun a three hour and fifteen minute flight for Don Muang.5
The outbound flight at 15,000 feet was generally quiet. There was no need to talk; the pilots had been well-briefed, and they knew what to do. So they watched their engine instruments while keeping their heads on a swivel to catch a glint in the sky that would reveal an enemy plane. But nothing was seen until they reached the target.
Near the IP, the Air Commandos descended to two thousand feet. Chase led his men over the IP right on schedule and turned south toward Don Muang, descending farther to a couple of hundred feet off the ground. About ten miles from the field the 1st Fighter Squadron dropped their tanks. At this point Pryor called to say his men were ready to attack. Although he thought Pryor was early, Chase told him to go ahead. Pryor had identified the wrong airfield and radioed to admit his mistake seconds later. He told Chase that the 2nd Fighter Squadron would attack later.
Moments after this exchange Chase spotted an Oscar flying about one thousand feet above him. As he pulled up for a pass on the fighter, a second Oscar joined the first one Chase had seen. Neither pilot seemed to know the Americans were there. Chase fired a long burst at the right-hand plane, which began to smoke and then rolled over and crashed. Switching to the other plane, Chase poured more shells into it. The Oscar began a left turn in front of the colonel’s wingman, 1st Lt. Hadley M. Dixon, who nailed him. By this time the rest of the 1st Fighter Squadron was raking the airfield while flying in line abreast, and Chase saw numerous fires scattered around the enemy base.
Meanwhile, Maj. Bill Buxton and 2nd Lt. William D. Holman shared the kill of a twin-engine bomber identified as a Sally after the plane had evidently just taken off. Actually, a third member of the flight, 1st Lt. Bobby J. Spann, probably got in the first shots at the fleeing bomber. After making his run on the airfield, Spann saw the Sally desperately attempting to escape. When he could not gain on the enemy plane, Spann suddenly realized he had pulled back on his throttle while making his strafing run. Advancing his throttle, he began to gain on his quarry. He fired a few ranging shots as he closed in, and when he got within three hundred yards, he began firing in earnest. Twinkles of light spreading over the bomber’s fuselage showed his shells were hitting. Another Mustang (Buxton) suddenly crossed in front of him, and Spann had to stop firing for fear of hitting it. Irritation over a poacher stealing his kill faded as the other fighter swung away after a few seconds. Spann resumed firing only to stop again when another P-51 (Holman) cut him off. When that plane was clear, Spann was only about one hundred yards behind the Sally. The bomber exploded and tumbled out of the sky Spann passed over it.
Spann decided later not to claim a one-third share of the enemy plane, so half credits for its demise were given Buxton and Holman. Despite losing this victory Spann had a big day at Don Muang. The evening before the mission, as he studied the reconnaissance photos, Spann noticed a line of attack that led over several bombers. As luck would have it, when he made his run on the field it was almost exactly on the same line he noted in the photos. He made the best of the opportunity and was credited with destroying two twin-engine aircraft on the ground and damaging five more.6
Don Muang was thrown into utter chaos as the Mustangs crisscrossed the field. Enemy personnel running to man guns or just ducking for cover were scythed down by the six .50-cal. machine guns on each P-51. Aircraft supposedly safe in hangars were not immune to the destruction. A number of Japanese planes were destroyed or damaged as the Air Commandos dropped down to just feet off the deck to fire through open doors straight into the hangars. Most of the ground fire was inaccurate as the antiaircraft gunners could not follow the attackers as they zipped by at close to eye level. But they did score a fatal hit on Capt. Warren Modine’s fighter. Chase reported seeing Modine’s P-51 pass him in a “strange attitude,” its cockpit full of flames. Others saw Modine crash near the airfield. He would be the Air Commando’s only loss over Don Muang.
Although he had directed his men to make only one pass on the field, the lack of significant opposition on the ground or in the air heartened Chase to order one more pass. Those who did not hear him headed for home, but those who did returned to beat up the field once more. Soon, burning aircraft, buildings, and fuel trucks and dumps were sending towering columns of smoke into the air to dirty the sky. It would be some time before Don Muang was fully operational again.
Chase landed at Cox’s Bazar at 4:40 PM, followed by the remaining thirty-eight fighters. The average duration of the mission was six hours and forty-five minutes, and the fliers were worn out by the time they returned. But they were jubilant over the amount of damage they had caused. Their attack was one of the most successful such raid in any theater during the war. They left behind one Sally and two Oscars shot out of the sky, thirteen twin-engine and four single-engine aircraft destroyed on the ground, another four twin-engine planes probably destroyed on the ground, and twelve twin-engine and six single-engine aircraft damaged.7
Following his return Pryor had put in a claim for a twin-engine plane destroyed on the ground. Examination of his gun camera film showed that the aircraft was single-engine. His men would not let Pryor forget his error, promptly dubbing him “Weak Eyes Yokum,” after a character in the comic strip Li’l Abner. Ever game, Pryor issued a memorandum to his squadron the day following the raid directing them (in his words, “I has spoken”) to paint each squadron aircraft with the name of a character from the comic strip. Every plane soon sported names such as “Earthquake McGoon,” “Available Jones,” “Moonbeam McSwine,” and the like.8
Praise for the Don Muang strike was quick in coming from the senior leaders in SEAC, including Stratemeyer, ACSEA commander (since February 24, 1945) Air Chief Marshal Sir Keith Park, and, particularly, Mountbatten.9 The SEAC leader wrote, “Please convey my heartiest congratulations to Nos. 1 and 2 U.S. Squadrons of 2nd Air Commandos on their magnificent attack on Don Muang Airfield Bangkok. Apart from highly successful results which were achieved, the round trip from Cox’s Bazar to Bangkok involved some 1600 miles representing some 8 or 9 flying hours. This remarkable achievement carried out by single-seater aircraft reflects most favourable on 2nd Air Commandos as a whole and in particular, on high standard of training and determination of pilots concerned.”10
Don Muang would see the Air Commandos again, but for the time being the 2nd ACG was occupied with other places. On the morning of March 18 the 1st Fighter Squadron sent twelve P-51s to Mingaladon and Zayatkwin while the 2nd Fighter Squadron had sixteen more Mustangs over the Hmawbi and Hlegu fields. Pickings were slim this day, but the pilots took advantage of every opportunity given them. Eason got a clear shot at a pair of Oscars parked in a revetment at Mingaladon and hammered them with several long bursts. Second Lt. James R. Fishburn and 2nd Lt. Dean E. Wimer were able to put in telling blows on two more Oscars. Although three of the enemy fighters were claimed destroyed and the fourth was claimed as probably destroyed, the Tenth Air Force later reduced all the claims to damaged.11
The pilots of the 2nd Fighter Squadron, except for Atha, found little of importance at their fields. After making one pass at Hmawbi the squadron headed for Hlegu. As he neared the field, Atha saw a twin-engine plane approaching from the direction of Rangoon. At first he though it might be either a Mosquito or a Beaufighter, but as he closed the distance he could see that it was a Dinah, the JAAF’s premier reconnaissance aircraft. He opened fire at four hundred yards and quickly got strikes on the enemy’s left engine and wing. The Dinah shuddered as fire broke out. Atha made a sharp chandelle and dove in again to put a burst into the plane’s other engine. By this time other pilots were firing at the hapless Dinah, and it exploded and crashed in a ball of fire. This time there was no doubt about the damage, and Atha was credited with the kill.12
Airfields in northern Thailand received the attention of the two fighter squadrons on March 20. Near Khun Yuam, Capt. William C. Marshall spotted a small plane he identified as a Stinson. The unarmed plane had no chance. Marshall made a rear quarter attack and sent the little aircraft into the ground burning. The “Stinson” was actually a Fairchild 24 belonging to the Aerial Transport Company of Thailand. It had unknowingly blundered into the path of the attackers.13
Pryor found himself caught between a rock and a hard place when he landed back at Cox’s Bazar. Just as he was approaching the runway, his engine cut out, the result of a fuel line vapor lock. With a suddenly dead engine and a gusty thirty miles per hour crosswind, Pryor had little chance to recover. He landed short, wiped out his landing gear, and almost caught fire when his left wing tank dragged across the ground, causing a sheet of flame to trail behind. Pryor exited his plane swiftly with just a few bruises, but his Mustang was a washout.14
The Air Commandos lost another plane the following day. The fighters were out again on March 21, going after airfields in southern Burma. Thirteen 1st First Squadron Mustangs went to Tavoy, Burma, which is near the coast and in line with Bangkok, but came up empty when no enemy aircraft were found. The 2nd Fighter Squadron had better luck at Moulmein. First Lt. Julian Gilliam saw a twin-engine bomber parked in a hangar and poured one thousand rounds into it, causing it to burst into flames. The hangar was burning fiercely when he joined up for the return flight. Second Lt. Paul C. Kent saw an Oscar parked off the north end of the field’s ramp. He proceeded to beat it up with very accurate fire, so accurate in fact that he lost sight of it in the dust and smoke his guns had raised.
On the return flight the men decided to take a quick look at the Zayatkwin airfield. Nothing was found there, but the Japanese defenders got their antiaircraft guns in action quickly and hit Gilliam’s plane in its tail section. When Gilliam arrived back over Cox’s Bazar and flight-checked the damage, he spun from 10,000 feet to 4,000 feet when he attempted to lower the landing gear and flaps. He tried unsuccessfully to bail out, but he eventually managed to get his fighter under control and made a belly landing. Gilliam walked away from the crash, but his plane would not fly again.15
The two squadrons went to the Bassein area west of Rangoon on the next two days and destroyed a couple of radar stations. On March 24 they returned to the Rangoon area with little success and lost a plane anyway when 2nd Lt. R. L. Galloway’s engine cut out on takeoff. Galloway was not injured in the ensuing crash, but his aircraft’s prop was demolished, both landing gear were sheared off, and the right wing suffered major damage.16
To show that they had not yet been rendered ineffective, the Japanese raided Akyab on the night of March 25. The four Sallys from the 58th Sentai, four Lilys from the 8th Sentai, and seven Oscars of the 64th Sentai did not inflict much damage. The British, however, were listening in on the Japanese as they returned and determined that the Oscars had landed at Hmawbi. This information was passed on to Chase.
Fearing that the Japanese fighters would get refueled and be off again for safer territory, Chase decided to catch them early on the 26th. He swiftly planned a sweep of the Hmawbi, Mingaladon, and Moulmein airfields just in case the intelligence people were a bit off on where the Japanese were. The Air Commando pilots were briefed at 3:00 AM, and takeoffs began at 4:30 AM. With the runway lined with dimly burning flare pots, it was a tricky takeoff, but no one had any problems. The 1st Fighter Squadron took off first, followed immediately by the 2nd Fighter Squadron.
At 6:25 AM the Air Commandos were a few miles north of Hmawbi. Suddenly, Chase saw a trio of Oscars taking off from the field and heading right for him. The Japanese pilots evidently saw the Americans at the same time, for they suddenly pulled up sharply and turned to the south. It was too late. The faster American planes were quickly upon the Oscars. Chase took the plane in the middle of the Japanese flight, his wingman, Spann, took the Oscar on the right, and 1st Lt. Harold Hettema Jr. took the fighter on the right. Hettema’s wingman, Dixon, was left to watch. All three Air Commandos fired together. The lightweight Oscars could not stand up to this devastating fire, and all three plowed into the ground at the same time, still in a vee formation.17
The Japanese on the ground saw what had happened and were aggressively manning their guns when the Mustangs swept over the field. Chase’s coolant system, a very vulnerable spot on a Mustang, was hit. A stream of liquid began pouring from his plane. Eason saw this and warned Chase. By that time Chase was also aware of his situation, as he saw his coolant temperature rise and his oil pressure drop. He decided it was time to leave his aircraft, but he also saw that he was only a few hundred feet off the ground. A rice paddy looked good to him, and he bellied in to it.
Chase was about twenty miles west of Hmawbi when he ditched. His men circling overhead saw him climb out of his cockpit and sprint toward the trees. Spann then strafed the wreck, setting it afire. The Japanese would not glean any information from that wreckage.
Chase was not the only Air Commando to go down. Antiaircraft fire at Mingaladon holed Pryor’s P-51 in the same vulnerable spot as on Chase’s plane. Coolant gushed from his stricken fighter as Pryor climbed away from the enemy airfield. In matter-of-fact tones Pryor radioed his flight, “Willie (1st Lt. William Wilson), you and Charlie (2nd Lt. Charles H. LeFan) go on and finish the mission, and Bonnie (1st Lt. Boniface J. Meyer), you come with me.”18 Pryor finally bailed out about twenty-five miles from where Chase had landed.
The rest of the squadron headed for Moulmein, where LeFan and 2nd Lt. Edwin W. Pearle caught a couple of Sallys on the ground and claimed them as destroyed. A review of their gun camera films later reduced their claims to damaged. During his attacks LeFan took a hit in his plane’s prop reduction gear housing, which sent oil spraying not only over his windshield and canopy, but into his cockpit, as well. He had to open his canopy a few inches so he could see anything.19
LeFan was escorted back to Akyab by his flight leader, Capt. Al Abraham. As LeFan came in to land at the RAF field, he was told by Abraham to move a little to the left. Only when a row of Spitfires lined up alongside the runway flashed by did LeFan realize how close he had come to a disaster. LeFan’s travails were not quite over. As he hopped off the wing of his plane, he stepped on a patch of oil and found himself staring at the sky from a prone position. Luckily, he was more irritated than hurt.20
After Chase bellied in, Eason and his wingman, Fishburn, raced for Kyaukpyu on Ramree Island south of Akyab. Kyaukpyu was the closest Allied base, and perhaps someone or something could be found there to rescue Chase. Not far behind Eason and Fishburn were Spann and Hettema, who were considering a rescue attempt also. Luckily, the 127th LS had a detachment of L-5s based at Kyaukpyu, and Eason and Spann talked their light plane colleagues into loaning them a couple of the puddle jumpers to look for Chase and Pryor. The flight would be well beyond the usual range of the liaison aircraft, so the two men loaded the back seats of the planes with extra five-gallon cans of gasoline.
With Hettema and Fishburn providing escort in their P-51s, Eason and Spann headed east to locate their crashed leaders. Chase’s Mustang was found, and Eason put down in a rice paddy about a mile away, unfortunately becoming stuck in the process. In the meantime, Chase, who had gone to a nearby village, had seen the Mustangs flying overhead and then had seen Eason approaching to land. He immediately took leave of the villagers, who had apparently been deciding whether or not to turn Chase over to the local police, and began running toward Eason.
Immediately after landing, Eason had begun refueling his plane from the five-gallon cans. He was just finishing when Chase came up. Overhead, Spann saw that Eason’s plane appeared to be stuck, so he landed, fortunately on firmer ground, to lend a hand. The three men could not free the mired L-5, however, and a number of Burmese had gathered to watch the proceedings. Eason offered them some silver rupees from the escape kit the pilots always carried on their flights, and the villagers soon had the plane out of the mud.
With the L-5 free Eason and Chase hopped in to attempt a takeoff. The takeoff was across several rutted rice paddies separated by earthen dikes. It was a teeth-rattling takeoff, and the plane’s tail skid was pushed up into the fuselage after encountering one of the dikes, but the L-5 finally staggered into the air. With Hettema and Fishburn weaving overhead, Eason headed back to Kyaukpyu. He landed with just half a gallon of fuel remaining. It was a successful ending to a remarkable rescue attempt.
While Eason headed back west Spann refueled his plane and took off to search for Pryor. The 2nd Fighter Squadron leader had gone down several miles farther east, and Spann hoped his search would be as successful as the first. But it was not to be.
The area where Pryor had gone down was photographed, and two L-1s from the Tenth Air Force moved to Cox’s Bazar to participate in any rescue attempt. In addition, a YR-4 helicopter was crated and transported from Asansol to Cox’s Bazar on March 29. There it was assembled and placed in readiness in case Pryor was located. Finally, the Air Commandos modified a pair of L-5s with long-range fuel tanks. This gave the little planes a range of five hundred miles. Both were flown to Akyab and assigned to the 127th LS for use in the search and rescue role.21
Sadly, all this effort came to naught. Pryor had landed safely, but he was captured by the Japanese before Spann could find him. His captors tied him to a tree and apparently had thoughts of executing him on the spot. A firing squad was lined up before him, but someone decided to let him live. Instead, Pryor would be held prisoner in Rangoon until the city fell in May. In Pryor’s absence Grosvenor took command of the 2nd Fighter Squadron. For their remarkable actions in these rescue attempts, Eason and Spann received Silver Stars.22
Meanwhile, the rest of the two squadrons also headed for Akyab. Not aware of Eason’s and Spann’s efforts, they, too, hoped to rescue their leaders. Instead of a rescue attempt, though, more tragedy awaited them. The Dabaing No. 1 strip on Akyab was a very dusty field, and as the planes landed, they raised roiling clouds of dust which obscured vision. Capt. Sherard A. Sorenson landed safely, but his engine quit before he could clear the runway. Another pilot landed close behind and could not see Sorenson’s plane still on the runway. He smashed into the first plane, killing Sorenson instantly. The second pilot escaped with minor burns to his face, but both planes caught fire and were destroyed.23
Not one to let such things as belly landing behind enemy lines and being picked up by a small L-5 bother him, Chase was flying the next day. He led the fighters on an escort mission for B-24s bombing enemy installations near Bangkok. That was a milk run, as enemy fighters did not put in an appearance. But on the way home Fishburn, flying wing on Hawkins, spotted a twin-engine plane parked in front of a revetment on the Pegu strip. Both men took turns strafing the plane, which they identified as a Lily. Hawkins was later given credit for the probable destruction of the aircraft.24
The mission ended badly, however. As the Mustangs neared Ramree, 2nd Lt. Robert H. Morris dropped out of formation. Flames could be seen behind his head. His flight leader called him several times to tell him to bail out, and he was seen to open his canopy, but then he rolled to the left and dove straight into the ground.25
March had been a spectacular month for the 2nd ACG’s fighter squadrons. Seven Japanese aircraft were claimed destroyed in the air and another eighteen were claimed destroyed on the ground. Thirty-four were claimed as probables or as damaged. These victories added up to 82 percent of all claims by Allied units during the month.26
It had been evident to the Allies for some time, however, that the Japanese were pulling their air units out of Burma. With the deteriorating situation in the Philippines and the home islands under attack by B-29s, Burma had lost what little strategic value it had left. Many of the JAAF units were pulled back to Sumatra, French Indochina, and Thailand. A few aircraft remained in Burma to make hit-and-run raids on the advancing Allied forces, but for all intents and purposes, the Burmese airfields were useful to the Japanese only as forward staging bases.
The Air Commandos, though, were not yet finished with the enemy in Burma. April 1 was both Easter Sunday and April Fools’ Day, and the Air Commandos celebrated the day by dropping their own Easter eggs on the enemy bases at Mingaladon and Hmawbi. The Americans were not seeking aircraft this time, but enemy installations. Of the forty Mustangs making the attack, twenty-four carried 500-pound bombs and sixteen carried 110-gallon tanks of napalm. As was usual with the fighter pilots, their drops were made with precision, and the enemy lost more badly needed machinery shops, barracks, and other facilities.27
The danger from Japanese aircraft in Thailand remained a concern of the Allied air leaders, however, and they directed the Air Commandos to put more emphasis on attacks there. Nakhon Sawan, a base in central Thailand, was hit on April 2. Twelve 1st Fighter Squadron Mustangs strafed hangars and other buildings, setting most on fire. Second Lt. Herman G. “Doc” Lyons caught the only aircraft found and destroyed it in three strafing runs. Later identified as a Betty (actually a Japanese Navy plane) or a Helen, it was most likely a Sally. While Nakhon Sawan was being beaten up, six other 1st Fighter Squadron planes joined six 2nd Fighter Squadron P-51s in pounding the fields at Koke Kathiem and Takhli. No aircraft were found, but many buildings went up in flames to the strafings.28
Don Muang continued to exert its pull on the Air Commandos, and when information was received that the enemy was again moving aircraft there, the Americans were eager to make a return visit. Careful planning was done again, but this time Chase decided to make one full-blooded attack instead of splitting his force into two. April 9 saw Chase lead thirty-two Mustangs from both ACG fighter squadrons against the enemy base. Another eight fighters of the 2nd would attack Nakhon Pathom, which lay about twenty miles west of Don Muang, at the same time.
The fighters hit the IP right on time, whereupon the Nakhon Pathom attackers turned for their target. The other pilots spread out in line abreast and poured the coal to their planes. In this formation the Air Commandos swept over Don Muang. Although there were not quite as many enemy aircraft on the field as had been present during the previous raid, there were enough to provide good hunting.
Chase bagged a single-engine fighter on his pass, while his wingman, 1st Lt. Malcolm MacKenzie, set a couple of JAAF fighters and a bomber ablaze. The Japanese reacted more quickly than they had earlier, and as MacKenzie began a pass on another aircraft, he was buffeted by a loud explosion. He immediately headed west and looked for some altitude as he opened his canopy to clear the smoke pouring into his cockpit.
MacKenzie made it across the Chao Phraya River, several miles west from Don Muang, but his plane was not going much farther, so he bellied into a rice paddy. First Lt. Benjamin F. Lundberg, who had also fired a couple of bombers, watched as MacKenzie leaped from his plane carrying his escape kit and an M1 carbine, which was not the usual personal weapon of a fighter pilot. As MacKenzie headed into the jungle, Lundberg made sure the Japanese could not gain any useful information from the P-51 by strafing it.
MacKenzie headed west and soon came upon a creek. Having stashed several packs of cigarettes in the lower pockets of his flight suit, he did not want to wade across. Instead, he turned north and quickly met some natives. Attempts to communicate with them were fruitless, so he decided to cross the creek anyway. Not many minutes later, he heard a large group shouting barely one hundred yards behind him. MacKenzie dropped to the ground and rolled behind a rice paddy embankment. The Thais—they were not Japanese—began firing. The shooting was not too close, but it did get MacKenzie’s attention. He decided to return fire with his carbine, apparently killing one and wounding two others in the group. His firing did not last long, as a bullet hit his carbine and knocked it out of his hands.
He jumped up and ran for the middle of the rice paddy. This did not offer much cover, and when the Thais approached, they began throwing clumps of dirt at him. Using hand motions, they ordered him to throw away his pistol, which he did. Still unable to communicate with anyone, even by using the translation book from his escape kit, MacKenzie was unsure of what was going to happen next. Fortunately, the Thais were not interested in killing him and took him to the local police station. There, he was transferred to a small boat with an inboard engine. His captors motioned MacKenzie to lie down, then covered him with a rug. MacKenzie suddenly realized that they were hiding him from the Japanese.
The boat took him to Bangkok, where he was furtively taken to another police station. Inside, a policeman who spoke English talked to him briefly and told MacKenzie that a couple of other pilots had been shot down. He informed MacKenzie that he was being taken to an internment camp where he would probably be interrogated by the Japanese. Despite the circumstances, it appeared to MacKenzie that his problems could have been a lot worse.29
Meanwhile, the Air Commandos found the Japanese at Don Muang thoroughly riled. Antiaircraft fire had been quick in coming, and it was intense. Captain Marshall took several hits in his engine area. This did not stop him from destroying a couple of fighters. Fortunately, the hits were not fatal, and Marshall got home.
Not as lucky were Abraham and Wimer. Both had their coolant systems taken out by the ground fire, and they had to leave their planes. Both were injured when they bailed out. Abraham sprained his ankle when he landed heavily, and he hobbled about for the next few days. Wimer hit the tail of his plane when he bailed out, breaking several ribs. Like MacKenzie, they, too, were swiftly rounded up by the Thai police. The two men were taken to Bangkok, where their injuries were treated. At one point the Thai doctor treating Wimer told him that he would try to get him out of Thailand, but when word was received that the Japanese were looking for the Americans, Abraham and Wimer were turned over to the Japanese.
They were taken to the same internment camp to which MacKenzie had been sent. In the abandoned college a few miles outside of Bangkok, POWs and civilian internees were separated by just a strand of barbed wire. It was not long before the three Air Commandos were reunited. The Thais told the trio that they would be interrogated by the Japanese within a few days, so the Americans got together to concoct stories that would seem plausible and would also be similar. The interrogations did not take long, and the Japanese were relatively reserved in their handling of the prisoners. MacKenzie was threatened with beheading at one point, and Abraham was slapped with a rolled-up newspaper, but that was the extent of any physical abuse.
Returned to the camp Abraham, MacKenzie, and Wimer sat out the rest of the war in some comfort, if one can be comfortable in a POW camp. Through the Swiss Consulate, they were able to obtain Thai money. This enabled them to buy some shirts and shorts and tobacco and cigarette paper. Boredom was the big problem for the captives, but they did learn to play cricket and, at times, were able to listen to BBC broadcasts over a hidden radio.30
Despite the loss of three men and aircraft, the second raid on Don Muang was nearly as successful as the first. The attackers destroyed nine bombers and seventeen fighters and damaged another bomber. The eight fighters sent to Nakhon Pathom had good success, also. When no aerial or ground opposition was encountered, the Air Commandos took their time in plastering the field and left behind four enemy fighters reduced to scrap.31
Although more costly, the second Don Muang raid had been another well-planned and well-executed attack. Three days later Stratemeyer visited Cox’s Bazar to honor the men of the 1st and 2nd fighter squadrons. A bit under the weather from a bad cold, Stratemeyer still took obvious delight in presenting Chase with the Oak Leaf Cluster to the Silver Star. He then told the assembled men that they were now “nationally known” in the United States and that they had compiled an outstanding record.32
Chase called a general assembly in the base theater that evening. He talked about receiving the award but stressed that he did not regard it as a personal decoration. Rather, he viewed it as the high command’s appreciation of the excellent work done by all members of the group.33
Much of the 2nd ACG fighter squadrons’ work for the remainder of the month was in support of IV Corps as it pushed toward Rangoon. It was on one of these cover missions on April 22 that the 1st Fighter Squadron came close to losing another pilot. Second Lt. John R. Hanna’s engine began running rough, and when he turned to return to base, it cut out on him completely. Hanna bailed out and was picked up by some natives. Although not entirely trusting them, he was able to talk them into taking him toward the front lines. They ran into a Gurkha patrol as night fell, and Hanna was turned over to them. The next morning he was taken to a nearby village that had an L-5 strip for the evacuation of wounded. An L-5 flight to Myitcha followed and after a short wait there, Buxton picked up Hanna in a B-25.
The last counterair mission of the month was flown April 29 against Japanese airfields in central Thailand. Chase sent sixteen P-51s from both squadrons against Koke Kathiem, and he dispatched another eight Mustangs to Nakhon Sawan. Nothing was found at the latter field, but three enemy fighters were caught and destroyed on the ground at Koke Kathiem. These aircraft had probably been part of a group that had attacked a British convoy near Toungoo earlier in the day.
The 2nd ACG’s very last counterair mission took place on May 2, when twelve 1st Fighter Squadron aircraft made a sweep of the Moulmein airfield. Little of interest was found except for one aircraft parked in the open. It was most likely a wreck that had been set out to serve as a decoy, for although it was heavily strafed, it did not burn.34
The work of the 2nd ACG’s fighter squadrons throughout their combat operations had been outstanding. The first Don Muang raid, in particular, had drawn much praise. On April 30 the two fighter squadrons and the 327th ADS were recognized for their efforts in planning, preparing, and executing that raid when Stratemeyer awarded them a unit citation. This award was rescinded and replaced on June 23 with a new unit citation covering operations between February 12 and May 10.35
But the fighter squadrons had not been the only pistons in the engine driving the 2nd ACG. The men of the liaison squadrons and the TCS had been extremely active, as well.