Military Moments Ww Ii

By Don Saunders and Mel Saunders

American civilians who were on the home front during World War II would each have different stories to tell. With most, almost certainly their stories would not be as dramatic as the stories of many of those who lived in the battle zones of Europe and the Far East. Despite the difference, there would be many moving stories to tell of Americans who lost loved ones or received them home wounded or tarnished in some way by the war. Our parents welcomed us home untarnished, but changed by our experiences.

Our stories range from the intense action of combat flying that Don experienced to the more ordinary action of flight training that both of us went through. We hope that the older reader will find in this book some things familiar to their experiences, and to those who were not living during this period in our history, may they find some of the limited history in this book to be of interest to them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Jan 12, 2012
• ISBN: 9781449732790

Don Saunders

Don Saunders is an author, engaging speaker and successful entrepreneur. Don defines his life by an amazing personal experience that provided him powerful knowledge. Don created The BEAM Institute a Learning Oasis @ Lake Las Vegas. www.thebeaminstitute.com Don is a sought after teacher, speaker, personal and business coach.

Book preview

Military Moments

World War II

Don Saunders

Combat Pilot

Mel Saunders

Pilot

logoBlackwTN.ai

Copyright © 2012 by Don Saunders, Mel Saunders.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

WestBow Press books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.westbowpress.com

1-[phone]

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Cover Pictures: Doug Fisher—Wardbird Depot

ISBN: 978-1-4497-3280-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4497-3279-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011961255

Printed in the United States of America

WestBow Press rev. date: 1/09/2012

Contents

Introduction

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Don

High Flight

Underway

Nashville

Preflight

Avon Park

Greenville

Seymour

Sebring

Hap

Plant Park

Drew Field

Going Over

On To Italy

Tent Village

Sterparone

Flying Again

Logging Missions

Red Tails

In The Sunset

500 Guns

And A Toaster

Oil Leaks

Special Friend

Christmas

Remembered

Winter Flying

Night Mission

Standing Down

Capri

George

Vienna

Berlin

Faith

Going Back-

The Mariposa

Home

Epilogue

Mel

Enlistment

Miami Beach

College Training

Bryan Airfield

SAACC-

San Antonio

Uvalde

Mission-Moore Field

Pampa Army Air Base

Brooks Field

Post War

Final Landing

Introduction

This book gives the stories of two brothers who went through pilot training during World War II, one who flew through 35 missions over Europe, and the other who completed training as the war ended. The accounts of Don’s service are much more interesting than those of mine, but I thought mine would be of some interest as well.

Don had previously written a book he entitled Military Moments—WW II. He had it bound to give to his grandchildren and other relatives and friends, but never had it published. It was my feeling that his book was interesting enough to be worthy of publishing. There is a repetition of training events that both Don and I shared that I never thought about until I started to write my section of the book. The hope is that it will not bore you in the reading. The telling of my flight training has none of the dramatic events in it as in Don’s, with his combat accounts, but it does bring together how one set of brothers served in WW II

There are innumerable books on WW II and one might ask the question Why write any more? However, there are WW II history buffs who might like to read another account of a different set of experiences and some veterans of the conflict still remaining might find some things in common with their time in the service.

The reader will find that this is more like two books tacked together than one continuous read. This is the case because of Don having written his ten years before I decided to try to put our two stories together and then get the book published.

Don’s account with its acknowledgments comes first and then mine, (Mel’s), follows.

To our Grandchildren

Don’s

Ellen Amanda

And

Elizabeth Jean

Mel’s

Jeremiah

Jenna

Jaclynn

Jacob

Zachariah

Isaiah

Victoria

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Don’s

My deep and heartfelt thanks to the following people without whom these narratives would not have been produced. To Jane and Henry Nall for their enthusiastic reception of a few stories and their encouragement that more should be forthcoming. To my sister, Jean, for her critique and knowledgeable encouragement toward more understandable stories and her initial typing and smoothing the story flow. To my talented niece, Patty McCord, for her indefatigable attack on my almost unreadable handwriting, for her unquenchably positive approach to my problems and for the resulting beautiful copy she produced from her computer. Lastly, but not in the least, to my wife Nancy, for usual enthusiasm and for her critique and proofreading and supportive suggestions so needed to make these stories readable.

Mel’s

I would like to thank my wife, Beverly, for her support and encouragement in the writing of my portion of this book. Also I want to thank my son Dave for his help with computer problems and also his help in explaining software nuances that saved me a lot of time in the composition of my stories. Thanks also to Janel Saunders, my daughter in law, for changes in the picture format that improved the cover and several pictures in the body of the book.

Don

0002.jpg

High Flight

Pilot Officer John Gillespie Magee Jr. RCAF

1922-1941

Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth

And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings

Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth

Of sun-split clouds—and done a hundred things

You have not dreamed of—wheeled and soared and swung

High in the sunlit silence, hov’ring there

I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung

My eager craft through footless halls of air,

Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue

I’ve topped the windswept heights with easy grace

Where never lark or even eagle flew

And, while with silent lifting mind I’ve trod

The high untrespassed sanctity of space Put out my hand, and touched the face of God

0003.jpg

Underway

The surprise attack by Japan at Pearl Harbor made a lot of young American men do some serious thinking. I was a first year college student with a plan to complete two years of college and then enlist in the Navy’s flight training program. Pearl Harbor changed my thinking.

At the end of my first collegiate year, it became apparent to me that the Army Aviation Cadet program was the way to go. My friend, Alan, had similar thoughts, and during the summer of 1942 Alan and I decided to enlist. I had just turned nineteen and Alan was a year older so we hitchhiked to the Army Aviation Cadet recruiting station at Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. We each had been to Harrisburg a few times and while it was fifty miles away, the route up the historical Cumberland Valley was completely familiar to us. Hitchhiking posed no problem for us for it was a common method of transportation at that time.

We found the recruiting station and filled out all the necessary papers and then were told enlistment would not be final until we completed the physical examination and we would be called to Harrisburg later for that.

We walked out of Harrisburg and caught a ride back down the valley. We were dropped off somewhere in the north end of Carlisle and as we walked through the town we discussed the future physical. We both felt that good eyesight was paramount for acceptance into the cadet program and knowing that we had been hitting the books assiduously for the past nine months we thought we should give our eyes some help. We had read that carrots were helpful to eyes since they contained a great deal of Vitamin A. We dropped into a grocery store in Carlisle and picked up a few cans of carrot juice. As we headed for the outskirts of town to resume hitchhiking, we consumed one of the small cans of carrot juice. It was like a bitter medicine, and we didn’t open another can. So much for improving our eyesight.

Within a few weeks we were called back to Harrisburg for the complete physical examination and both Alan and I passed without any problems.

Autumn was upon us and we were back in school. The first semester of the second year went by without incident. Around February and March of 1943, fellow students in the Aviation Cadet program began receiving orders to report for training. The first set of all orders received were cancelled and shortly thereafter, I was sent a second set of orders directing me to Keesler Field at Biloxi, Mississippi. My second set of orders was also cancelled. I believe some of my classmates getting orders did report. My third set of orders indicated that I should report to Harrisburg for a further trip to Nashville, Tennessee. Alan left home on similar orders a month before. These were welcome instructions for they cut out any preliminary training many men were subjected to and were sending me to the classification center at Nashville.

I was on a bus headed up the valley to Harrisburg and we stopped at the next town up the line. A young man whom I recognized got on the bus, and upon seeing me, came to sit with me. Bob was an adversary against whom I played high school basketball. We were both happy to see each other and as we compared notes we realized we were in the same Army program and headed in the same direction.

At Harrisburg we got on the train that would take us to Pittsburgh and then to Nashville. On the train, Bob and I talked to a few of the men and it became evident that all of these lads were college students like us. More of the same would pile on the train at Pittsburgh and as it got underway from there the train was loaded with hundreds of Aviation Cadet Candidates. From Pittsburgh to Nashville the route wound through the rough back country of West Virginia and Kentucky. The train was old and dirty and sleep was almost impossible. We finally arrived at Nashville and were shown to our standard two story barracks. By this time, the thoughts of carrot juice were expunged from my mind and I have not tried any since then.

Nashville

The Nashville Cadet Classification Center was a beehive of activity. We arrived in our civilian clothes so one of the first things that had to be done was get an issue of uniforms. In the past, Aviation Cadets had a special uniform similar to that worn by officers

Our uniform was strictly Government Issue but with distinctive badges to be worn. We were soon shunted into the big two story barracks. There was nothing different about these—strictly standard barracks. The front door opened into a hallway on one side of which was a room for an enlisted man whose duties were to help us over some of the military rough spots. Off the other side of the hallway was the latrine with all the facilities to accommodate the lower floor occupants. The hallway led into the main room consisting of a multitude of double bunks. I managed to get a lower bunk only a couple of beds away from the entry hall.

I did not have much trouble getting rid of my civilian clothes since the base dumped a pile of cardboard boxes in front of the barracks. I managed to snag a large box that would accommodate the brown tweed suit that I had been wearing. That suit plus other items was shipped home from the base without a problem.

With the disposal of civilian clothes and the receipt of our uniforms, we were now ready for the barrage of tests that were planned for us. These tests were to help determine whether you qualified for the aviation position you preferred. We had been asked to indicate our preference for duty as pilot, navigation or bombardier. We were given mathematics tests, psychological tests, manual dexterity tests and, of course, the ever present physical training tests. While testing was the essence of Nashville, we also were taught the basic marching formations and such little items as the proper making of beds. In Nashville, beds had to be made so tightly that a quarter dropped on the middle of a made bed would bounce a little. Great emphasis was placed on neatness and cleanliness of barracks and area and we collectively went all over the grounds picking up any paper, cigarette butts and other unsightly trash. Another duty requiring participation was that of kitchen police. KP consisted of any duty in the mess hall that the mess officer saw fit to assign. This included peeling potatoes, preparing various foods, cleaning tables and floors, Washing dishes and taking out garbage. Bob and I still stuck together and we were fortunate enough not to get assigned to KP duty. Part of the emphasis on neatness centered on the barracks and our uniforms. It was an old way to motivate a soldier to lead a disciplined life. We had weekly barracks inspection which not only included the barracks but your personal uniform as well. Anything determined to be not up to standard brought forth to the guilty soldier some form of punishment, usually extra KP or additional duty policing the grounds. All shoes had to be shiny, all brass had to be highly polished and the uniform had to be pressed with the shirt and tie properly tucked in. Within the month’s stay at Nashville all the testing was finished, all the military drills learned, and all the physical training completed. While we were at the moment Aviation Cadet Candidates, the day of reckoning was approaching and we would learn whether we would become Aviation Cadets and go on to some form of flight training. My preference was for pilot training and when the listing was posted I had been given my choice and the opportunity to become a pilot. My next stop would be Maxwell Field, Montgomery, Alabama. There I would go through the Aviation Cadet Preflight School. Maxwell Field would be a tough nut to crack.

Preflight

Maxwell Field was one of the permanent Army Air Corps installations. By the time I got there the name Army Air Corps had been changed to Army Air Forces. Maxwell Field, for cadets, had long, single story brick barracks. The entire front of each building had a concrete porch enclosed by screen. The building contained approximately ten rooms, each of which was furnished to accommodate six cadets. The floors were concrete, the beds were double bunks made of steel pipe. Against one wall were six adjoining closets with drawers underneath each. The bathroom was a double one but shared with those cadets in the adjoining room.

Preflight was a busy and difficult time. We had two months of academic training covering Morse code, aircraft engines, meteorology, navigation and aeronautics. Physical training, a requirement everywhere we went, was particularly vigorous at preflight.

During the first month at Maxwell, one was an underclassman and underwent a small degree of hazing. Hazing was virtually eliminated across the cadet corps when I became an upperclassman. For underclassmen, life could be difficult. You always walked on the double making square corners to turn and you even ate square meals. Sitting at attention at a picnic type table in the mess hall, you could hardly look at your plate. Your fork went into your food and was raised vertically to the level of your mouth. Then a ninety degree turn into your mouth was made so that one barely saw the food. Any upperclassman could order you to hit a brace, an exaggerated position of attention. From this position he might order you to recite certain rules of military etiquette. All of this conduct, peculiar for a civilian, was a way of establishing military discipline.

The assignment of quarters and other activities was carried out in alphabetical order.