90th Bomb Group 2015 Annual Reunion New Orleans, Louisiana

G.
Ford, Sec/Treas
Robert
J, Tupa,
8320 San Leandro
Dallas, TX 75218
Phone 214-327-8796
[email protected]
[email protected]
Treasurer
273Dr,
Wellington
Cutoff, Wellington,
NV 89444 Fax 214E-Mail
Phone 775-465-2930
February 2015
Volume 140
90th Bomb Group 2015 Annual Reunion
New Orleans, Louisiana
October 21-24, 2015
The 90th Bomb Group will head to New Orleans for
the 2015 Annual Reunion, landing at the Crowne
Plaza New Orleans Airport hotel from October 2124. The room rate will be $115 per night
(excluding tax). A breakfast package may be added
to individual reservations for $10 per person per
day. The Crowne Plaza offers complimentary
shuttle service to and from the airport, as well as for
outings.
www.ihg.com/crowneplaza/hotels/us/en/kenner/msy
ap/hoteldetail
ph. 800-227-6963
The Reunion will kick off with registration on
October 21. For the annual outing, the Jolly Rogers
will tour the National World War II Museum. The
museum, founded by author and historian Stephen
Ambrose, combines displays of historic artifacts
with interactive exhibits, taped interviews, films,
and live shows to take visitors back in time to
“experience” the war through the eyes of the
Greatest Generation.
Reunion attendees will have the opportunity to
visit the World War II Airpower Expo 2015. A
fleet of fully restored World War II aircraft will be
displayed on the tarmac at the New Orleans
Lakefront Airport. Visitors are invited to touch the
planes, climb inside, and watch the planes take off
and land. For an additional charge, you can even
strap in for a flight on some of the aircraft.
The General Membership Meeting will convene
the morning of October 24. That evening, the
annual banquet will be held in the Crowne Plaza. In
Jolly Rogers’ fashion, the hospitality suite will be
open each day for your enjoyment and refreshment.
Please look for complete details in the May 2015
newsletter. If you have any questions or comments,
please do not hesitate to contact:
Vince Verrocchio
P.O. Box 942
Vienna, VA 22183
[email protected]
The First Trip to Hawaii
The 90ths Deployment to the Pacific from Art
Rogers’ Memoirs
“For a war time Group, after seeing others that
were in our same predicament preparing for
overseas, we considered ourselves as well trained as
many others. But when the task of flying the B24
from San Francisco to Hawaii was faced even the
four officers with experience carried many doubts
which we could not express to our eager bunch of
cubs. No B24 had ever made this flight and
accurate range data was not at hand to give us the
confidence we badly needed. We made many
transcontinent flights to give us the information
needed to prove that the plane could be flown that
far.
We had flown our old training planes to a depot
on the West Coast not far from San Francisco. Here
we exchanged them for new ones, complete with all
of our flying equipment. Knowing that there were
no supplies for the new Liberator West of San
Francisco and also having doubts as to whether any
of our supplies shipped by boat would reach us, we
made a complete list of all the accessories and parts
we felt we might need for ninety days operations.
When all the material was massed together in a
huge pile, we realized that his would make our
planes exceedingly heavy for our take off with our
crew and all the gasoline we would have to carry.
After going through the list and cutting many of the
original items off, we finally loaded each airplane to
its capacity and then found that we still had plenty
left that we could not take. We flew our planes to
Hamilton Field and on the way over we checked our
compasses and radios to make sure that they were
accurately calibrated.
In the meantime, along with my job as Squadron
commander, I had been made Deputy Group
Commander and not only did I feel responsible for
my own pilots and men but for the entire Group.
Upon landing at Hamilton Field the Group
Commander, Col. Mussett, and I checked with each
pilot to ascertain whether his airplane was
functioning all right and if it would be ready to
make the flight the next morning at daybreak. It
was found that two airplanes had had difficulties in
their short hop over due to sabotage and this put
fear in everyone’s mind to such an extent that many
of the pilots stated they would rather fly their old
worn out planes, at least they knew the condition
they were in. Some of the other airplanes had
developed small mechanical troubles that would
have to be corrected before they could make the
flight. At this time Colonel Mussett and I decided
to split the flight in half and we would take the first
half the next morning and would leave the other two
experienced officers, Colonel Unruh and Major
Bullis, to bring the other half after the necessary
repairs had been made.
By this time all the crews were on edge as most of
them had never flown over any water larger that the
Mississippi. None of the navigators had navigated
over water and they were none too confident of
their ability. It is doubtful whether any of the
Group got much sleep that night.
We were faced with the problem of whether to
take off at daybreak or dusk. With a completely
trained Group with thoroughly confident navigators
and pilots the navigation problem would have been
simplified by taking off at night, since celestial
navigation is much easier because a fix can be made
by any two heavenly bodies. In fact the first flight
made by the Flying Fortresses before the War, by an
excellently trained Group, was made at night and
they landed in Hawaii the following morning. The
reason we were forced to make an early morning
takeoff was due to the fact we doubted the ability of
the newly graduated navigators. Of course, loaded
down as heavily as we were it would have been
almost impossible both from the stand point of
gasoline and ability on the part of the pilots to stay
in formation all night.
Colonel Mussett and I decided we would fly in the
same airplane so that one of us could be checking
the navigators work while the other was flying.
Our plan was to take off just at dawn and circle
the airdrome until our young fledglings were all in
sight of us, then strike out for the long distant Island
twenty four hundred miles away. To execute this
plan we had a great deal to do before hand such as
briefing our pilots on the takeoff procedure, the
altitudes at which we could find favorable winds,
emergency procedure in case of engine trouble,
radio communications and recognition signals
necessary to approach the Islands of Hawaii. This,
in addition to seeing that all the airplanes were
properly serviced and a final check on the engines,
carried us late into the night.
When the alarm clock sounded at four a.m., I was
still awake and though I had not slept I was too
excited to be tired. I jumped out of bed anxious to
be off. After our crowd had eaten breakfast and
lunches were packed we had a final briefing of all
of our crews that were to make the flight. We
decided it would be necessary to recap all of our
fuel tanks since it would cost us approximately fifty
gallons of gasoline to warm up our engines and we
knew that every drop would be precious if we were
running short at the other end. Every crew was
dispatched to his airplane and Mussett and I
departed for our airplane. In addition to our normal
combat crew we carried along our flight Surgeon,
Captain Mitchell, as an extra passenger.
Due to a dry cigarette lighter belonging to Captain
Mitchell, the flight surgeon, I received one of the
most exciting moments of my life. All the crew
were at their stations and I was checking my radio
to see if I had contact with the tower. The big four
thousand gallon gasoline truck was filling all of our
tanks, which held thirty one hundred gallons of
hundred octane gasoline and filling them to
overflowing. All of a sudden the darkness was
broken by a flash of light and I heard the screaming
of our aerial engineer that the airplane was on fire.
Unless you have been sitting on thirty one hundred
gallons of hundred octane gasoline and heard the
word “FIRE” you can never know the feeling that
all of us had. We all made a mad rush to jump out
of the bomb-bay doors, flames were coming from
the concrete as though it were burning and the
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flames were filling the expanse in which the bombs
were usually stored. We all dove headlong into the
flames, which by this time were dying down some
as the fire extinguishers had been put into action.
This made our escape possible with only a few
singes. Once on the outside we saw gas burning
under the wings and right up to the nozzle of the
large gasoline truck. We all grabbed emergency
fire extinguishers and soon put the fire out. As soon
as the last flame was extinguished everyone with
one accord said, “How in the hell did the fire
start?” Our medical officer with a sheepish
expression on his face stepped forward and said in a
meek voice, “Sir, I did it with this blasted cigarette
lighter. It was dry and the over flowing gasoline
was dripping off the wing and I decided to fill it.
When I opened the lighter a spark came from the
flint and the next thing I knew the flames were
running up the wing.” There is one thing that can
be said for the medical officer, after he had started
the fire his reaction time was perfect since he had
the fire extinguisher playing the flame in a split
second after the fire started. I am sure all of our
crew can credit him with our lives for his quick
thinking in this emergency. It was indeed a shaky
crew that went back to their stations just as the first
streaks of dawn came over the horizon. We started
our great four powerful twelve hundred horsepower
engines and the roaring was reassuring as we taxied
down to the end of the runway for our take off.
On checking with the tower we received our
clearance along with good wishes for a safe flight.
We shoved the four throttles forward and the great
props started biting into the air with a forward
acceleration that threw us back in our seats. The
Group Commander and I were both wondering if
she would get into the air with such a tremendous
load but neither of us expressed our fears to the
other. We barely cleared a little rise in the ground
at the end of the runway as we became airborne.
In a short time we were cruising over the Golden
Gate bridge preparing to circle back over the Field
according to our plans to wait for the other
airplanes. On our return to the Field we could see
three of our planes already in the air but after
circling for fifteen minutes over the Field no other
planes took off. We started calling the tower since
any great loss in time might mean we would not
have enough gasoline to make Hawaii. We were
notified by the tower that one of our planes had
taxied out for a take off and had electrical trouble.
They were towing him off the runway and another
airplane was taking his place.
Forty five minutes after our take off the last
airplane was in the air but we were afraid to have
them close in to a tight formation since all the pilots
were having trouble keeping the planes flying with
such a heavy load. We just called the pilots and
told them to close in a reasonable distance but not
attempt to get too close because if they got into a
skid they may crash into one another.
About this time Mussett let out a scream and I
glanced up just in time to see a huge bomber
descending on us at a terrific speed. It looked as
though it were going to dive into the middle of our
airplane. The only thing that flashed into my mind
was that one of the pilots had probably lost
complete control of his plane and that maybe some
day somebody would fish our bodies out of the
Bay. Just as I had given up hope the airplane
missed us by a few feet and pulled up into a climb
in a chandelle maneuver. Over the radio came a
cheery goodbye and I knew then that this stunt was
pulled by an old classmate of mine, Lt. Col. Red
Elkins, who had taken off before we did and had
checked to see if the weather was okay and had
flown out to give us a special send-off. This second
fright began to show on my exhausted nerves and I
felt plenty weak in the knees.
It could hardly be said it was a formation leaving
San Francisco but at least the planes were in sight of
each other.
Eleven hundred miles from land while changing
the gasoline on to our bomb-bay tanks our four
engines quit. I had never seen a larger or more
cruel ocean than I saw up to that time. We were
flying at approximately 11,000 feet and when the
engines quit it necessitated getting the nose down at
a steep angle so the air speed could be maintained.
This meant losing precious altitude. An aerial
engineer and two pilots worked furiously while
seven other men fingered their life jackets
nervously. At 4000 feet three of our engines came
back in with a roar and a few minutes later the
fourth one caught and we sat weak from excitement
as many of the other airplanes called to see if we
were okay.
After thirteen hours of flying and checking
navigation we saw the large mountain in the
distance on the Island where we were to land.
Successful landings were made by all pilots. A
tired but happy crowd were ready for bed after
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putting the planes away and taking their small
belongings with them.”
and the other (2) two bomb bays were gas tanks to
enable this mission. The 321st Squadron with others
made these 18 hour missions (3) three times.
The first mission consisting of 16 planes got to the
target and found it covered with heavy clouds and it
was canceled, we returned to base. The second time
we went was clear weather and the target was
bombed as we were attacked by Japanese fighters. I
believe some 6 or 8 bombers did not make it back.
The third time out, I was selected to be the lead
bomber and the squadron would drop when I
dropped for saturation bombing.
I can’t say how much damage was done, but
before leaving the war zone (Biak) and returning to
the States (November, 1944) we were awarded with
a Distinguish Flying Cross and were told that the
Paul Ackberg crew and the Gus Rham crew were
the only ones in the 321st Squadron to make these
(3) missions and be alive.
I write this to see if we can raise any interest to
see how many others made these long trips to
Borneo and can relate their experiences. I hope
some of Gus Rahm’s crew may still be alive. On
my, Paul Ackberg crew, I was the youngest member
and in 1944 was all of 20 years old. In closing, last
July 24th I passed my 90th.
Be looking forward to see if any articles appear on
the Longest Flights of our theatre of war.
Theodore J. Theodore
Standing on the left is Ellis Carlson with his
crewmates on Jack Pelander’s crew whose
escapades on their deployment to Hawaii were in
the last two newsletters. This last December I
received a Christmas card from Ellis with his dues
and a birthday announcement for his 103rd birthday.
Sadly as I was preparing to report on his longevity
in this newsletter I received a card from his son
Charles reporting that Ellis died peacefully at home
last week. At the old age of 32 at the time of their
deployment to the Southwest Pacific, I am sure
there were times when another 71 years were
unimaginable.
(Bob Tupa)
With Dues I Get Notes
George Schwab says that he entered WWII as a
teenager but went on to serve in Korea as a Night
Photo Reccon Pilot.
JP Welch writes that he is 93 and still proud of the
Jolly Rogers of the South West Pacific, always
remembered.
Bob Cooper writes that he enjoyed the San Antonio
reunion. Getting back to the Riverwalk was
wonderful. About July 15, 1943, he was a member
of the 43-10 graduating class from the Hondo Army
Air Base Navigation School and they had their
graduation party on the Riverwalk.
Theodore J. Theodore Remembers
Your October 2014 issue of your TAPS listings
revived memories for me personally seeing the
name of Fred C. Kircher, who was the co-pilot of
the Paul Ackberg crew, with Jerry Green, navigator
and I bombardier.
I would like to comment on the bombing of the oil
refineries in Balikpapan, Borneo, which were
supplying fuel to the Japanese fleet.
The missions from Biak to Borneo required crews
to be on the flight line at 2:00 AM and be ready to
take off. The actual time to get to the target and
return took 18 hours. We carried (2) two bombs
After All These Years
Tom Baker is working with James Horner of
Florida to document his service in the Pacific as the
pilot of B-24s. Tom recently contacted the
Association to report the following:
“Just thought I'd let you know that former gunners
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Jim Baca and Nick Barone finally got together on
the phone, Baca told me yesterday, 70 years after
they both parted to go home after they finished their
combat tours as waist gunners on Lt. Horner's and
Lt. Holland's bomber crews, respectively.
They had flown to the Pacific together, served
their combat missions in the same squadron (320th),
and been good friends the whole while, but after
they went home they'd lost track of each other and
had no contact, until James Horner in Florida
recently found Barone's e-mail address and phone
number and sent it to me (since Baca has no e-mail
address or computer) and I gave it to Baca, as well
as sending Baca's phone number to Barone.
Horner said that he and Holland were very good
friends, and he thought he remembered that Baca
and Barone were also. He was correct.
Baca said that he had no idea that Barone was still
around, or where he might be. He last saw and
spoke to him in 1944.
They both called each other and got answering
machines at first, but finally a few days ago they
connected. Baca said it was a grand reunion on the
phone. He immediately recognized Barone's New
York accent (he told me that when they were out in
the Pacific, he used to tease Barone for calling girls
"goils" and oil "erl").
I'll get the whole story when I have breakfast with
Deacon Baca next week, but he told me in a brief
phone conversation yesterday that he and Barone
were very happy to find each other again after all
these years. After the war Baca went to college on
the GI Bill and became a school teacher, and after
retiring from that he became a deacon in the
Catholic church. He said that Barone told him that
he'd become a welder after the war and worked for
the city of New York on many of their construction
projects until retiring.
Baca is 91, and Barone is 94.”
Tom Baker
October 21, 2014. Buddy was radio
operator/gunner on the Heitmeyer crew in the 319th
Squadron.
Charles Carlson notified us that his father, Ellis
Carlson, passed away on February 9, 2015 at the
age of 103. Ellis was a member of the Pelander
crew in the 400th Squadron.
Nancy Smith Hill notified us that her father and
Edward Herrick notified us that fellow pilot and
squadron mate, Henry K. Smith, passes away on
September 29, 2014. HK was a command pilot in
the 321st Squadron.
Phyllis Riley notified us that her husband,
Bernard J. ‘Red’ Riley, passed away on October
25, 2014. Red was the tail gunner on the Jewell
crew in the 319th Squadron.
Ottis L. Dilworth passed away on January 29,
2014. Ottis was a member of the Nielsen crew in
the 321st Squadron.
Richard Snyder notified us that his father, W. Ray
Snyder, passed away on January 18, 2015. Ray
was a member of the P W Floyd crew in the 400th
Squadron.
Janet Caudle notified us that her father, William F.
‘Bill’ Caudle, died on December 18, 2014. Bill
was a member of the 319th Squadron.
Curtis J. Nickerson passed into the wild blue
yonder on December 16, 2014 at the age of 95.
Curtis was the navigator on the Moody crew in the
400th Squadron.
Robert H. ‘Bob’ Wagenblast died at his home
on October 6, 2014 at the age of 89. Bob was the
tail gunner on the WG Johnson crew in the 320th
Squadron.
DUES: Your 2015 annual dues of $10 are payable
now. The date shown on the line above your name
on the address label indicates when your
membership expires.
Make the check payable to the 90th Bomb Group
Association and mail it to:
273 Wellington Cutoff,
Wellington, NV 89444.
TAPS
These buddies, wives, friends and comrades-inarms forever remain heroes.
Harold E. Reeves passed away on October 15,
2014 in Fairfield, Illinois. Harold was a member of
the 400th Squadron.
Harold “Buddy” Schryver passed away on
If the letter W, H, or L is on the line above your
address you DO NOT need to pay dues.
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90th Bomb Group Association
273Wellington Cutoff
Wellington, NV 89444
RETURN SERVICE REQUESTED
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