If I recall, this was during the Salween River campaign, we had left our aircraft at Bahmo or Lasheo at the end of the flying day and all of the flight crews got on one Gooney Bird for return to Sylhet, India.  That bird was always a tired, broken, or war weary bird, and in need of an inspection.  Then the next morning, we'd get into a fresh, hot to trot newly inspected aircraft and return to the front lines and our ships, that had been loaded during the night by (and for) the British.   On the surface, that sounds like a pretty good idea.  But the reality of it was clear that Monsoon morning. They could have lost an entire squadron of pilots, crew chiefs, co-pilots and RO’s in one big Gooney Bird pile. (I've regressed off the point)

     So every thing checked out fine and we taxied out for take off.  I’ve tried for years to think of the names of who the pilots were, but I always draw a blank.  Dusty Roads was standing between the two pilots.  I was seated in the navigator’s position and, I think, Ken Naven, an old, ex-Merchant Marine type was in the RO’s.seat.  We were about half way down the ‘psp’ runway when the left engine just stopped running!!!  We might have been up to, maybe, 70---80 Mph., I don’t know.  Someone in the cockpit yelled "we need more power!!!".  Someone else (I think it was Dusty) yelled #~!!*&+%#, we need more runway!!!!   Whoever it was, was right, we surely were not gonna fly and we damn sure were not gonna stop in a conventional manner.  We were off the runway in a split second, the right engine went silent, the left landing gear yoke went through the main spar and into the left auxiliary fuel tank and the left tire and wheel went backwards into the left main fuel tank.  With no gear holding up the left side we went into a high speed screaming left skid that put the left engine tucked neatly where the left landing gear used to belong.  Somebody in the cockpit hit the crash bar and it all went dark------and quiet, when finally someone, wisely suggested we all get out and not be part of the fire.  It didn’t burn, it was raining too hard to support combustion.

     I had a hell of a time getting out from under the navigators table, so by the time I got to the cockpit everyone was gone ,just a big hole where the escape hatch used to be.  I was told that it was hell in the cargo cabin----I doubt that anyone had a seat belt on.  After they agreed on where every one's arms and legs belonged, they all organized to locate the cargo door and freedom.

     I heard that someone in the cabin had stepped into a hornet’s nest and qualified the whole bunch of them the Purple Heart. First Sgt. McBride, I'm told objected, and stopped the whole process.   ( I've regressed of the subject again)