John Carmichael Part 2a

CHITTAGONG AND COX’S BAZAAR

When I returned to my outfit, I was sent to Cox's Bazaar, south of Chittagong, for a two-week rest tour. This would give me a chance to recover some strength in my knee. The weather was beautiful and warm, and I did a lot of walking and a little slow running on the beach. The rest camp was also on the shore of the Bay of Bengal. It was a very pretty beach, with almost white sand, and high cliffs behind it. I swam some, and went into the jungle with some of the other men that were there for their rest tour. We thought we might see some monkeys or some other wild life; but we didn't get a chance to see anything but jungle, and it was wild.

I did a little target practice with my Colt 45 Automatic while I was there. I took a shot at a vulture, flying overhead, and the feathers flew. He kept right on flying, and I think I only scared him. Since they were mostly feathers, I probably didn’t hit him; but only loosened a few feathers, or it shed the feathers when it quickly veered away. One of these big birds flew directly into the leading edge of the wing of one of our planes and tore the wing open, and lodged inside the wing. It could have wrecked the plane; but the pilot managed to bring the plane back to the base, without any mishap. We were lucky that we never hit one with a propeller, as it might have broken a blade off of the propeller and could have caused us to crash.

A military police sergeant was also assigned to the rest camp, for our security. We had a Basha boy, hired to clean, and sweep, and make up our beds, daily. We paid him five rupees a week, each, and there were at least twelve beds to each tent. There were two tents, and they were always occupied with our men. He made very good wages and kept everything very clean and neat. The MP had left his billfold on his bed, and realized he didn't have it with him. He rushed back to his bed and it wasn't on his bed. He just knew the Basha boy had taken it, as the boy had finished his work and gone home, for the day. He asked me to go with him, in his jeep, to this boy's home. When he got there he was mad, as he was sure the boy had stolen it. The boy’s father came to the door, and the sergeant began to rave that his son had stolen his wallet. The father went back into the house and when he returned, he told him that the wallet had been left on the bed, where everyone could have seen it. The son had taken the wallet and put it out of sight, under his pillow, for safekeeping. When the M P cooled down and we returned to the tent, there was the wallet, with all of his money, just as the boy had said it was.

He drove back over to the boy's home to apologize; but he had accused him of stealing, and the boy would not return to work for us. He had hurt the boy’s pride very much, as he had doubted his honesty. We lost a good Basha-boy. In all the times and places we had a Basha-boy while in the CBI, I never knew one of them to be dishonest. They were trustworthy, and did their work very well. Our Basha’s were always swept and beds made, daily. They also took care of our laundry, and linens. We only paid them a nominal fee, five rupees a week each, and they did a lot for that little bit. There were twelve of us to a tent, at our camps, as the tents were large. This amounted to sixty rupees or twenty dollars a week and they normally never made more than a few Anna’s a day. An Anna equaled to two cents. Some of the people made as little as two Anna’s a day, or four cents. They were very happy to be employed by us, as we paid well.

When I returned to my outfit, my plane was grounded. No one seemed to be interested in getting it back in the air. Cox and Starky were very glad to have me back on the job. I had the ground crew change out both engines, and after I ground tested it, I was ready for it to be test flown. Colonel Hatch, our Commanding Officer, was going to be the test pilot, and another pilot was going along as co-pilot. We took off and flew high above the base. Colonel Hatch proceeded to feather one prop, and before I knew what he was up to, he feathered the other prop. The plane began to shudder and stall. When I asked him what he was doing, he laughed and asked if I was afraid we might crash? To me, that was a very dumb thing to do. If those engines, being new and untested in flight had not re-started, we could have been just another name on a tombstone. He let me sweat for a moment, and then he unfethered one prop and the engine began to come back to normal. Then he unfethered the other one and it started also. He laughed at me for being so worried. He was a very highly experienced pilot, and had flown many hours in his life. This had been a new experience for me, and one I had not relished. We landed and he put his approval on the plane for flight service. He was satisfied with what I had done to get it flying again. We never had another bit of trouble with my plane after that. My crew was finally back together, and we started flying missions again.

I had a confrontation with a British officer, who was in charge of the Indian laborers loading our planes with cargo at the flight line one day. He was trying to give me orders, and trying to keep me from boarding my plane, and I didn’t have to take orders from the British. He acted as If he were in command there, over our planes. I quickly straightened him out on that, and told him that I would board my plane, as I had things I had to check. He said he would report me for insubordination, and my pilot, Cox, walked up at about that time, and wanted to know what all the fuss was about? When I told him that this officer was trying to keep me from boarding our plane, he told the officer that this was my plane, and I could board it whenever I pleased, without his interference.

The Officer was livid; but he turned and walked away as Cox, who had made Captain, outranked him, and it was our airplane not the British’s. We didn’t see him around the flight line after that. I guess that someone of his group, straightened him out on whose planes these were, and under whose authority, as he had no authority over our planes, nor was he to interfere with us again. All the authority he had was seeing that the plane was loaded, with the supplies we were to fly to the forward bases. Of course that was his detail, and I guess he thought it was very important, and it was. I think he may have been watching over the security of the plane while his crew was loading it. I am sure he did not like to be reprimanded in front of all those Indian laborers. It made him lose face in front of those low laborers.

We had a Lt. Alfred J. (Jack) Tarr, who’s home was in Galveston, Texas, where I had enlisted from. I had lived and worked in Galveston for two years before I came into the Air Corps. Lt. Tarr had flown his crew and the Chaplain, along with a load of supplies, into a forward base, so the personnel there could have the Chaplain hold services for them. While there, the Co-pilot, crew, and Chaplain were talking near the plane. Lt. Tarr pulled his pistol, pointed it at them, and told them that they were all going to die. They just froze in their tracks. The Chaplain started talking to Lt. Tarr in a soft voice, and asked Lt. Tarr to hand him the pistol. Lt. Tarr stood there looking at them, and never moved, and his eyes looked glazed. The Chaplain walked slowly toward him with outstretched hand, and caught the pistol in his hand and Lt. Tarr didn't resist. He took the gun and Lt. Tarr started crying. The co-pilot flew them back to Chittagong and Lt. Tarr was sent back to the states. He had snapped under all of the pressure from so much flying. Lt. Tarr had always been one of the nicest and friendliest pilots in the squadron. He would laugh and joke with us. He was also a very good pilot, and I had flown with him, back in Louisville, and when Cox and Starky were off duty. As I said before, the pilots had more time off to rest than the enlisted men.

The reason I remember him so well, is the fact that one of the nice restaurants on the Boulevard in Galveston, Texas was named the Jack Tarr. It had good food, good music, and a good dance floor. I would sit there and listen to the jukebox play songs by Artie Shaw, Glenn Miller, the Dorsey brothers, and several other popular bands of the day. I spent a few evenings there while I lived in Galveston. I have no idea if he was related to the people, who owned the restaurant, as I never thought to ask him.

On another occasion, one of the planes was flying over dense jungles, and one of the engines caught fire. The plane was loaded with 55-gallon drums of 100-octane gasoline, for the fighter planes, at the base they were heading for. The pilot told the engineer and the radio operator to bail out in their parachutes. They asked if the pilot and co-pilot were coming? The pilot told them that he was going to try to fly the plane to an airstrip not too distant. He did not want the reputation of losing a plane. The two of the enlisted men crew bailed out, not knowing how bad the fire was. They had fallen only a short distance, when they looked back, and the co-pilot was attempting to bail out when the plane exploded, with a great flash of fire, killing both the co-pilot and the pilot.

The engineer and radio operator landed in the jungle, and luckily some villagers had seen them and the explosion of the plane. They were rescued by these villagers, and spent several days in their village before they could send word of their location. The villagers treated them very well, and the villagers wanted no reward for what they did; but I think they were rewarded in some way. A small plane picked them up, and returned them to Chittagong in good condition, although they were a little hungry for some of the good old “C” rations. The pilot and co-pilot were never found, and a search for any body parts was unsuccessful. I imagine they were blown to bits when the plane exploded. The villagers found bits and pieces of the plane, and of course they were of no value to us.

When Cox and Starky, and I and Sully were all back together, and flying, we never had any more trouble with our plane. It flew every day without any down time, except while we were off duty. While we were at Chittagong, we hauled five-gallon, sealed tin containers of Australian foods, containing canned beef, cigarettes, crackers, and canned fruit. We also carried ammunition, 55-gallon drums of 100-octane gasoline and engine oil for the fighter planes at the forward bases, near the combat zones. We were flying to the same bases where General Charles Chenault and his P-40, Flying Tigers, had been based. He had already been sent back to America when we flew into there. He and Stilwell did not see eye to eye in their ways to fight the war. Chenault tried to fight as if they alone could win the war against Japan by their air power; but he was badly outnumbered by the Japanese Air Force.

It was won with the help of air power; but not by his methods. His planes were replaced by the newer, heavier and more powerful P-47 Thunderbolts, and P-38 Lightning’s. There were also P-51 Mustangs flying farther north of us. We were supplying them also, by one of our other squadrons. The Japanese were trying to infiltrate Burma, in several areas; but they were met with very strong resistance, by all of our allied troops. Now that we were supplying them with the things needed to fight with, our allied troops were overwhelming them, and driving them back into China. Their superiority was beginning to fade. The British, Indian and Burmese troops were beginning to make progress with all of the new supplies we were bringing in.

We would watch these P-47, fighter planes, come in for a landing, and when their wheels touched the ground, they actually jarred the ground, for quite a distance. They were heavy and solidly built. They also carried heavy armament. They were equipped with the Pratt and Whitney R- 2750 engines. This may have been the largest radial engine that was used on any plane during the war. The R-2750 P.and W. engine, was the same type engine that we used on our C-46 Cargo planes. It took a lot of power to lift the heavy loads that we were carrying. Our top speed was around 195 miles per hour when we were loaded.

The P-38’s had two in-line Allyson engines, and they flew like the wind. They flew so fast, that when they tried to turn, they would actually skid, a long way in the air, in making their turn. The British used the P-51’s before we entered the war, and we perfected them more after we entered the war. The early P-51’s used the Allyson, in-line engine; and by 1944 they were using the Rolls-Royce Merlin engine, with speeds up to 445 miles per hour. It was the fastest of the three fighter planes, and had a much longer range than the P-38’s and P-47’s.

During this time, the cigarette warehouse for the whole CBI Theater burned, and burned all the cigarettes inside. That put every man that smoked, out of cigarettes. The Australian five-gallon tins of food had British Lion cigarettes packed inside them. We managed to secret away a couple of tins, behind my desk, and in this way we had a few cigarettes. The British Lion cigarettes were very sour tasting. They were much stronger than Chesterfields, and even sourer tasting. They finally made a deal with the maker of Raleigh and we were sent several planeloads of Raleigh cigarettes. After smoking Lucky Strike and Camels for so long, these Raleigh's tasted like I was smoking rope. It took some getting used to them, until we began to get our favorite brands back. I finally became accustomed to their taste.

A WAR UNHERALDED Part 4