Mandalay Was in the Other Direction
When Rudyard Kipling wrote his poem “Mandalay” in 1892, the flotilla’s paddles were “a-chunking from Rangoon to Mandalay,” and the route to that fabled city was generally by water. The Irrawaddy River was the preferred route north.1 Fifty-three years later, in 1945, Mandalay had been just a way station along the road to the Allies’ primary target in Burma, Rangoon. And waterways were just one method of travel. Mechanized warfare had made movement through the jungle, if still arduous, at least less difficult. Perhaps the most important component of modern war, particularly in the jungles of Burma, however, was air. American and British aircraft supplied Slim’s advancing troops even where roads were poor or nonexistent and approach by water was impossible. The Japanese were never able to do the same. As a result, the enemy could launch pinprick raids that could hurt, but never stop, the British and Indian troops. On the other hand, the Allies had both a qualitative and quantitative edge over their adversaries. Eventually, the USAAF and RAF obtained air superiority over the enemy and with that, the Japanese lost any chance to regain the initiative. The men of the 2nd ACG played important roles in securing that air superiority and helping ensure that the Fourteenth Army would take Rangoon.
For Mountbatten, however, Rangoon was not an end in itself. Nor did the British chiefs of staff view it that way. Several other operations were planned to follow Rangoon’s capture. Operation Roger, the capture of the Thai island of Phuket off the Kra Isthmus, would be next. Unsurprisingly, the island’s name gave rise to a number of waggish interpretations by the planners. Next would be Zipper, a four- or five-division landing on Malaysia’s west coast near Port Swettenham/Port Dickson. This was to take place in October 1945. Finally, as soon as possible after Zipper, Operation Mailfist, the capture of Singapore, was to occur. This was a pretty tight timetable.
Dracula was the operation to capture Rangoon. In it, an amphibious force would land at the mouth of the Rangoon River while an infantry division would drive south overland to the city and a parachute battalion would drop on Elephant Point to take out the enemy defenses overlooking the river. Weather was a significant factor in planning the operation. The Allies had to be in Rangoon before the monsoon set in. Otherwise, offensive operations would come to a sodden halt as roads and tracks turned into impassable mud holes or lakes.
Air transport was a big concern, too. The Fourteenth Army was very dependent on air supply to continue its forward movement. The airlift of Chinese troops back to China and Chiang Kai-Shek’s demand on February 23 that U.S. troops and his remaining troops in northern Burma leave for China to undertake an offensive there against the Japanese were worrisome problems for Mountbatten and Slim. On top of these demands Chiang wanted the Fourteenth Army to halt its advance well north of Mandalay.
Mountbatten received assurances from General Marshall that the United States was not about to remove the invaluable transports from Burma just then. These assurances came with a caveat, however, that the aircraft would stay until June 1 or Rangoon’s capture, whichever came first. After that time the United States planned on removing most of its forces from Burma and sending them to China, which had always been the more important country to the Americans. So Mountbatten and Slim had a great impetus placed upon them to take Rangoon as quickly as possible.
The success of Dracula depended greatly on the capture of Toungoo, which lay almost 190 miles north of Rangoon, because of its pair of all-weather airfields. Mountbatten stressed to Slim that Toungoo had to be taken by April 25 so that the airfields could be used for the close air support of the attack on Rangoon, which had now been set for May 2. While Slim had great confidence that his men would capture Rangoon in due course, the fierce fighting at Meiktila showed that the cities en route would not be walkovers.
The transports were not the only aircraft proving their worth in Burma. The liaison squadrons, not only from both Air Commando groups but others assigned to Tenth Air Force, received little publicity but were very popular with the ground forces. The L-1s and L-5s were requested constantly for the pickup and transport of wounded, for flying senior officers to their units, and for the seemingly more mundane, though important to the troops, tasks of delivering mail and fresh fruits, vegetables, and bread.
At the start of April the 2nd ACG’s three liaison squadrons were widely separated. Most of the 127th LS was down at Akyab supporting XV Corps in its Arakan operations. During the month the squadron flew more than 1,600 missions, including a rescue mission of a 2nd ACG fighter pilot near Rangoon. The 155th LS was based at Myitche, southwest of Pakokku on the Irrawaddy. From there, they supported units of the Fourteenth Army. Their missions included the usual evacuation (the little L-5s flew out some 1,110 wounded in April), courier, air supply, passenger, and reconnaissance flights, and even some artillery spotting. The 156th LS, which had been hit hard by the tornado at Kalaikunda, finally moved most of its planes to Myitche on April 8. Not wishing to be outdone by the pilots of the other squadrons who had seen most of the action so far, the 156th’s pilots flew 4,232 sorties in 2,815 hours of flying in April while supporting XXXIII Corps. The 2nd ACG’s historian described the liaison squadrons as like “ants building mountains” for their efforts.2
The work of the 317th TCS had been as important as that of the liaison squadrons. Following Meiktila’s capture, the 317th remained at Palel until April 12. During this period the TCS continued to supply Fourteenth Army units at numerous forward airfields. On April 9 the squadron was alerted for a move to Meiktila. From there, the 317th and its partner in the 1st ACG, the 319th TCS, would supply the ground forces attacking southward. The following day the TCSs began ferrying gasoline to Meiktila for a fuel dump. They would also bring gliders forward to the newly captured field.
As some C-47s continued to fly in gasoline, others ferried gliders from Lalaghat to Palel. Ten of the gliders were then towed to Meiktila on April 12, followed by another eight the next day. In the meantime the rest of the 317th flew back to Kalaikunda for training in formation flying and dropping paratroopers. Joined by the 319th and a detachment of CCG C-47s, the 317th practiced from April 14 to April 26 on night formation missions, dropping supply parapacks, and doing parachute drops with men of the 2nd Gurkha Parachute Battalion. Because the Gurkhas were trained in the British method of jumping, which differed greatly from the American style, the U.S. crews had to pick up this new method quickly. In addition, the planes had to be fitted with parapacks to hold supply bundles and with British static lines.3
While this training was going on eight of the gliders at Meiktila were loaded with engineering equipment in preparation for movement forward in an operation code-named Gumption I. This commenced on April 21. The 317th’s C-47 and glider pilots were briefed on a mission to Lewe, about eighty-five miles south of Meiktila, at 8:00 AM, and the first glider was airborne an hour later. Lewe had been taken on April 20, and British engineers, always located at the head of the advancing columns so they could begin rebuilding bridges and airfields as quickly as possible, set about refurbishing the airfield there using a couple of bulldozers they brought with them. They soon had a glider strip leveled and ready for use, as well as a shorter, narrower L-5 strip laid out on one of the taxiways.
The Air Commandos had been briefed that the airstrip they were to land on would be outlined. When they arrived over Lewe they found that both strips had been outlined. Not seeing smoke pots and green flares that normally marked a glider strip, the lead glider pilot picked the wrong field. Four other gliders followed him in. The chosen strip had a number of camouflaged ditches, and one of the gliders was lost when it struck one of them. Fortunately, no one was injured. The last three pilots landed on the correct strip, where their supplies were swiftly unloaded and put to work by the engineers.
With no job now, the glider pilots began digging foxholes at the edge of the airstrip. Their digging was hastened by the fire of Japanese snipers still in the area. Enemy artillery and machine-gun fire during the night also served to keep the men tense. Rain, which began in the late afternoon and kept falling through the night, turned the foxholes into muddy bathtubs, and the pilots were glad to return to “shore” when dawn broke. Several of the pilots went back to their gliders to see how personal equipment that had been left inside had fared.
While inventorying this equipment, the Air Commandos noticed eight fighter planes cavorting about the sky. The glidermen did not pay much attention to the planes aloft because enemy aircraft were no longer considered a threat. Shortly, the men saw the planes making what they thought was going to be a buzz job of the field. Work on prepping the gliders stopped as crews gazed curiously at the planes. This curiosity suddenly turned to panic when the lead fighter’s engine “appeared to be on fire.”4 Sprays of dirt and grass flew into the air as shells from the enemy fighters dug into the ground. The Americans hit the ground as Japanese bullets tore into the gliders, just missing the men. As quickly as it began, the attack ended. The Japanese headed for home, and the Air Commandos dusted themselves off. One of the gliders that was carrying gas and had not yet been unloaded was hit and exploded. The resulting fire spread and destroyed several other gliders. It had been a close thing, but fortunately, no one had been killed or injured.5
While the 317th TCS had been readying itself for a drop on Rangoon, the 1st Fighter Squadron and the 2nd Fighter Squadron had not been resting. The Fourteenth Army needed photos of the invasion area, and the fighters of the 2nd ACG were given the tasks of covering the photo planes as they made their low-level runs and of taking out gun positions that might cause trouble for landing craft. On April 20 sixteen planes from the 1st Fighter Squadron and twenty-two from the 2nd Fighter Squadron hit antiaircraft and artillery positions with bombs and rockets and enabled the photo planes to complete their mission without loss. This was not the case for the Air Commandos, however.
Enemy flak hit Lyons’ P-51. He got as far as Bassein, ninety miles west, before he had to bail out. Japanese troops captured him shortly afterwards. Tragically, unlike the other Air Commandos who had been captured, Lyons would not return home. Unwilling to take their prisoner with them when they retreated, the Japanese soldiers beheaded Lyons.6
Earlier, for three days beginning April 12, the 2nd ACG fighter squadrons had plastered the Kyauktainggan area east of Pegu with bombs and napalm. The area was covered thoroughly, but not one Japanese was seen. Nevertheless, reconnaissance units claimed that the Air Commandos had killed nearly two thousand Japanese in these attacks.7
Pegu itself, which lay about fifty-five miles northeast of Rangoon, was the site of several supply dumps and a major railroad junction. The American fighters spent several days pounding these installations and the roads surrounding the area. On the afternoon of April 23 Captain Marshall was leading a flight searching for vehicles. Several trucks were spotted, and the Air Commandos dove after them. Lt. McGinnis Clark went after a truck speeding down the road. As he roared along at fifty feet or less, Clark began walking his shells up toward the truck, which suddenly veered off into a field. Intent on bagging his quarry, Clark did not see a telegraph pole until it was too late. His Mustang slammed into the pole and broke it in two. The impact almost flipped his P-51 over, but Clark was able to regain control. When he looked to his left Clark saw bits of wire, some wooden cross arms, and other remnants of the pole hanging from a huge gash in this wing just outboard of the machine guns. These fragments soon fell away.
His plane seemed to be flying reasonably well considering what had just happened, but Clark knew this might not continue for long. He had to get it down soon. Lewe had just been captured days earlier, so Clark and his element leader, Lt. Edward Harkins, headed there. Clark was running low on fuel when he and Harkins arrived, and Clark could make but one approach. C-47s were taking off in the opposite direction as Clark lined up to land. Harkins led the way, waggling his wings to warn a pair of transports preparing to take off. One of the transport pilots got the message and pulled off the runway. The other pilot did not and barreled down the runway, fortunately to one side of the strip. Clark landed on the other side as the C-47 swept by, each plane passing less than 50 feet from the other.
The Air Commandos flew in materials and mechanics to attempt repairs on Clark’s plane. Their efforts were successful, and Clark flew his fighter out the following day, carrying only enough fuel to get him back to Cox’s Bazar and with his landing gear down in case some damage had gone undetected. The flight home was uneventful, and Clark was able to relate to a rapt audience how he had tangled with a telegraph pole.8
A similar attack with similar results on April 28 was not quite as lucky for Captain Marshall. He spotted a big staff car motoring along a road and came down to strafe it. Although he succeeded in destroying the car, in his excitement, he failed to see a grove of trees ahead and flew right through them, which did his Mustang no good. Marshall was able to coax a few miles and a few hundred feet out of his plane before he had to bail out.
Marshall’s wingman, Clark (back in the air again after his meeting with the telegraph pole), noted where Marshall landed and then sped back to Cox’s Bazar to report. There, it was decided that Clark would fly to Akyab, where he and a 127th LS pilot would team up to attempt to rescue Marshall. Clark and MSgt. Stanley G. Morris loaded two L-5s with five-gallon cans of gasoline and took off for the rescue attempt. When the pair arrived over the spot where Marshall had gone down, some 170 miles from Akyab, he could not be found. Actually, Marshall had found a village where the residents had taken him in.
After some time in fruitless searching, Morris signaled Clark that he would have to land and refuel if he was going to get back to Akyab. The two men landed and refueled. They took off once more only after having to spend some time in dislodging Morris’ tail wheel, which had become stuck in mud. By the time they returned to Akyab, it was dark. Clark, a P-51 pilot not an L-5 pilot, could not find the landing light switch, so he and Morris landed simultaneously using Morris’ lights. Disappointed that he had been unable to find Marshall, Clark talked his superiors into allowing him to resume the search the next day.
Marshall’s benefactors were taking him to another village on April 30 when Marshall saw a couple of Mustangs passing overhead. Whipping out his signal mirror, he caught the fighter pilots’ attention, and they dropped down to take a look. The Mustangs were from the 2nd Fighter Squadron, and the pilots recognized Marshall. They radioed Akyab, and Clark and Morris were on their way, led by one of the Mustangs.
Within a few hours, Morris saw the captain on the road and landed while Clark circled overhead. Marshall introduced Morris to the natives, and Marshall gave them the contents of his jungle pack while Morris chipped in a couple of empty gas cans. The natives waved goodbye as Morris took off for Akyab, where they stopped only to be refueled on their way to Cox’s Bazar. Marshall received a tremendous welcome, and the little liaison planes had once again proved their value.9
While Marshall’s luck held, that of another Air Commando ran out. A group of enemy motor torpedo boats had been patrolling the waters of the Gulf of Martaban south of Rangoon. These had to be neutralized for the protection of the invasion fleet, but they had proved elusive. On April 29 two flights of 2nd Fighter Squadron Mustangs came upon the Japanese boats at anchor near Amherst, about twenty miles south of Moulmein. The pilots immediately went after these choice targets with rockets and gunfire. Two of the boats began to sink, and six others were heavily damaged. Return fire was not heavy, but it was very accurate. Lt. Roy H. Long Jr. was just above the water when his plane was hit. Unable to recover, he plowed into the water. Long’s plane disintegrated, and he was killed immediately. His death was the group’s last combat loss.10
In the meantime Slim’s forces drove toward Rangoon. Toungoo, with its all-important airfields, fell on April 22. It was in the nick of time, for the monsoons arrived ahead of schedule. The final assault on Rangoon began under scudding clouds and increasing showers, and the Japanese defenses swiftly crumbled. Some stout resistance was met, notably around Pegu, but for all intents and purposes, the Japanese were spent. This became evident on April 30 when reconnaissance aircraft flying over Rangoon reported seeing words painted on the roof of the city jail. One message read, “Japs Gone.” The other boldly stated, “Extract Digit.” While the first one might have been Japanese trickery, the second was RAF slang for “get your tails moving.” By this time, however, Operation Dracula could not be called off, and the three-pronged assault on Rangoon went ahead as planned.11
The last day of April also saw the 2nd ACG receive great news when a telephone call revealed that Pryor was a prisoner in Rangoon. Plans were initiated to fly there as soon as possible to retrieve him and bring him home. First, though, Rangoon had to be taken.
Leading the way to Rangoon were the Air Commandos. Mustangs from both of the group’s fighter squadrons, along with planes from another squadron, provided air cover for the invaders. Also participating were the TCSs, which had moved to Akyab on April 29 to make final preparations for the drop of the men of the 50th Indian Parachute Brigade. The drop zone was located five miles southwest of Elephant Point, which extended into the Gulf of Martaban. There, several guns overlooking the sea approaches to Rangoon had to be neutralized.
At 2:30 AM on May 1 a 317th TCS C-47 containing a twenty-man pathfinder team took off for Rangoon, followed by a CCG plane carrying a pair of VCP teams. Half an hour later the main force of thirty-nine planes followed. The weather was poor, with an overcast continually lowering until it was at just 1,500 feet over the drop zone. The transports slogged through intermittent rain to reach the drop zone on schedule at 6:35 AM. The inclement weather forced most of the fighters that were to escort the transports to abort, but six P-51s from the group were able to break through to complete the mission. Little opposition was noted over the drop zone, and the seven hundred Ghurka paratroopers and their supplies were dropped right on target. A second mission in the afternoon brought more supplies to the paratroopers.12
Because most of the defenders had fled south or moved into the hills northeast of the city, fighting was not heavy, and Slim’s troops occupied Rangoon on May 3. That same day, DeBolt and Ball, the deputy group commander, flew a borrowed B-25 to the city to pick up Pryor. Before this, however, Pryor and many other prisoners had been marched north toward Pegu by their captors, who had panicked and set all the prisoners free before fleeing. Nevertheless, DeBolt and Hall finally found Pryor after commandeering a jeep. The 2nd Fighter Squadron commander had lost considerable weight while being imprisoned, but he had not lost his spirit. A joyous reception awaited him when he returned to Cox’s Bazar before he headed to the rear for medical attention.13
It took a bit longer for the other three Air Commando prisoners—Mac-Kenzie, Abraham, and Wimer—to reach home. Imprisoned in Bangkok, it was not until August 25 that they were released by the Thais. The three were taken on that day to Don Muang, where they boarded a Japanese bomber flown by a Thai pilot. They were flown to a field in northern Thailand, where medical personnel were waiting to check them over before sending them back to Calcutta for hospitalization. They spent a couple of weeks in the hospital, and then it was back to the United States. Imprisonment had not been too harsh for these men. While boredom had been their main problem, they did lose weight, and both Wimer and MacKenzie contracted malaria, which afflicted them for several years afterward.14
Following the Rangoon missions the 2nd ACG’s C-47s returned to Kalaikunda and then moved on to Comilla. The TCS crews spent the next two weeks supplying XV Corps troops fighting in the hills northeast of Rangoon. This mission proved difficult because the monsoon had settled in, and the rains and turbulence had made flying extremely hazardous and flooded many of the forward airfields. Nonetheless, the 317th TCS was able to complete most of its missions in support of XV Corps. The squadron finished this job on May 19 and returned to Kalaikunda the following day. Its stay there was relatively brief, as orders were received to move to Ledo on June 1.15
Meanwhile, in spite of the terrible weather that had descended on the area, the 2nd ACG’s fighter squadrons continued to provide air cover over Rangoon. With no enemy air opposition, the task was completed on May 9, so they, too, returned to Kalaikunda. At this time the 1st Provisional Fighter Group was dissolved, and its component units returned to the control of their groups.
By May 21 all of the 2nd ACG’s squadrons except the 156th LS, which remained in Burma until June 3, were back at their home field. Earlier, however, the 2nd ACG bid farewell to two men who had been with the group from almost the beginning. On May 15, as men of the group gathered to wish them well, DeBolt and Chase boarded a B-25 that would take them on the first leg of their trip back to the United States. Colonel Ball replaced DeBolt as commanding officer, and Major Hawkins took over as group operations officer. More Air Commando veterans soon followed as a few replacements trickled in.16
For most of the men of the 2nd ACG, the war was essentially over. Training occupied much of their time after their reunion at Kalaikunda, but passes to see the sights of India became easier to get. The 317th TCS, however, labored on. Transports, ever the rare commodity in the CBI, were still needed. Operating from Ledo, the Air Commando transports flew supplies and men throughout northern Burma and into China. It was hard, demanding work, flying over some of the worst terrain imaginable and in weather that could obliterate any signs of the ground in an instant. Losses were inevitable. Two C-47s crashed during landings, fortunately without injury to their crews. Second Lt. Herbert H. Gumble’s plane with three other crewmen aboard, however, disappeared without a trace. Yet in spite of the poor weather throughout most of the summer, the 317th logged more flying hours per month and carried more tons in that period than it had since it arrived in the theater.17
The 2nd ACG began losing aircraft and men at an increasing rate during the summer of 1945. One of the most interesting transfers of men and planes began on June 13, when Hawkins left his normal fighter pilot role to climb into the cockpit of an L-5 to lead thirty of the light planes (ten from each liaison squadron) over the Hump to Kunming. Hawkins was chosen to lead this mission because of his previous experience in the theater.
He led ten L-5s from the 127th LS from Kalaikunda on June 13 bound for Myitkyina. Heavy rain forced this group to land on a road a few miles from Tezpur, which is on the Indian side of the Himalayas and was scheduled as an intermediate stop. A few L-5s hit trees crowding the road, but the planes were not rendered unflyable. After some gas was begged off a nearby engineer unit, the planes reached Tezpur, where they spent the night.
The 127th’s crews flew to Chabua the next morning, where the damaged wingtips were repaired. Then they were off for Myitkyina, but heavy rains forced the pilots to land their little planes on an abandoned strip alongside the Ledo Road. While the Air Commandos waited for the weather to clear, some Army engineers appeared, this time with C rations for the hungry fliers. The planes took off again in the afternoon and finally reached Myitkyina, where they would rendezvous with the rest of the group.
The second element of ten ACG liaison planes left Kalaikunda on June 14, led by 1st Lt. Benedict Lukacs from the 155th LS. They stayed overnight at Lalmanhir Hat, India (now Rajshadi, Bangladesh) before proceeding to Tezpur for another overnight stay. These aircraft reached Myitkyina on June 16.
Meanwhile, the last ten liaison aircraft left Kalaikunda on June 15. Led by 2nd Lt. John F. Nevins of the 156th LS, they encountered little of the weather that had plagued the other two groups and reached Myitkyina shortly after the planes of the 155th arrived.
For the final leg from Myitkyina across the Hump to Kunming, Hawkins led the twenty aircraft of the 127th LS and the 156th LS, while Lukacs led the remaining L-5s of the 155th LS. All three squadrons took off on the morning of June 17. Horrendous weather met them as they battled their way over the Hump. Hawkins decided to detour a bit to the south to get around thunderstorms, and his planes finally broke out into the clear. The fliers were greeted by jagged peaks sticking up out of the clouds. Some of the peaks soared well above the altitude of the planes. Now in the clear, the twenty L-5s reached Yunnanyi, China, after about three hours of flying. The final 140-mile leg to Kunming was routine.
The flight by the planes of the 155th LS was anything but routine. The group initially headed for Paoshan, China, east of Myitkyina, but the planes became separated when the passed through a line of thunderstorms. Seven fliers were able to return to Myitkyina, but the other three were reported missing. SSgt. Lee E. East was last heard reporting that he was out of control in the heavy weather, and nothing was heard from MSgt. William Oldaker or TSgt. John Raynak Jr.
Attempts to reach Bhamo over the next couple of days were thwarted by the weather, but on June 20 the seven remaining ACG L-5s finally reached Paoshan. There, the Air Commandos met a pilot from the 5th LS who was on a run to pick up eggs. He agreed to lead them to Kunming, and on June 22 the last of the L-5s arrived in that city. Waiting for them were Oldaker and Raynak. The pair had kept going through the thunderstorms to reach Kunming. Even better news reached the Air Commandos a few days later: East was alive and well. He had survived the crash of his aircraft and then walked fifty miles before meeting some Chinese engineers who delivered him to American forces.
Along with the delivery of the aircraft, fifteen pilots, five from each liaison squadron, were transferred to the Fourteenth Air Force. This had been a remarkable journey for such small planes over such a forbidding landscape. But twenty-nine of the thirty planes had made it, and, in the end, there had been no casualties. It was just one more indication of the skill and determination of the Air Commandos.18
August 10 should have been a day of celebration for the men of the 2nd ACG. Word came that the Japanese had agreed to surrender terms. Sadly, any excitement was swiftly dampened. Gordon, who had exhibited such courage in rescuing Beck and attempting to do the same for Atha, had finally recovered from the terrible injuries he had suffered when he crashed while searching for Atha. But the ebullient Gordon, who so much wanted to see combat, never got the chance. On the 10th, he was out on a night training flight when the news came that the war was over.
The men on the ground were still celebrating when they were informed that radio contact with Gordon had been lost. It was too dark to look for him then, but a search set out early the next morning. It was not long before the crash site was found three miles north of the field. What happened was never ascertained. Gordon’s plane had plowed almost vertically into the ground, and the pilot’s body was found buried nearly ten feet into the soft earth. Instead of elation over the war being over, gloom over Gordon’s loss settled over the group.19
There was gloom, too, on what the future held for the men. It was already apparent to many in the group that the unit’s days were numbered, but they soldiered on. Earlier, on August 3 and 4, the first squadrons left the 2nd ACG. The three liaison squadrons were relieved from their assignment to the group and embarked by train for Calcutta, where they boarded the USS General John T. Collins for transport to an unknown destination. Most of the men were hoping that it was the United States, and when they received word about the atomic bomb, they were sure that was where they were heading. It would be a few more months, however, before most would see “Uncle Sugar.”
The transport stopped in Fremantle, Australia, for a couple of days, and the men took full advantage of the opportunities to visit a modern city, drink good beer, see women, and be able to converse in English. Fremantle was just a stopover, though, and the General John T. Collins sailed again northward, stopping at Hollandia on New Guinea, and Leyte and Lingayen Gulf in the Philippines before arriving at Okinawa on September 15.20
Thus, war’s end found the 2nd ACG’s elements widely scattered. The liaison squadrons were en route to Okinawa and were no longer assigned to the group. The 318th ADS and the 342nd ADS were at Ledo and would soon be sent to China. For the rest of the Air Commandos, they could only wonder and wait.