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African Safari (Part 1) by Henry A. Jones, 764th Bomb Squadron African Safari From Hammer Field, Fresno, CA to Torretta Field, Cerignola, Italy 1944 Having completed the training of the Combat Air Crewmen and the Ground Personnel in flying and maintaining B-24 bombers, the 461st Bombardment Group (H) began moving from Hammer Field, Fresno, CA. The first to leave were the clerical workers, truck drivers and mechanics, armament and aircraft mechanics, etc. They left shortly after Christmas of 1943, going via train to Newport News, VA, where they boarded victory ships bound for the European Theater of Operations (ETO). They were to go in armed convoys as a deterrent to submarine attacks. The last to make the move were the Air Crews and the Airplanes, with all of the Crew Chiefs and other key personnel. This move began on Tuesday, 18 January 1944. I was included in this group of people, being a Crew Chief on one of the airplanes, #9 the "Evil Weevil". Upon leaving Hammer Field, the entire Group came under the command of the Air Transport Command (ATC); they would direct our movements from this point on. Many of the men had their wives in town, so on the morning we left they all came to the field to say good-bye. This made it much harder on those of us whose wives were many miles away. A Bombardment Group was made up of four Squadrons, each having eighteen airplanes and the same number of Combat Crews. Our Group, the 461st Bombardment Group, was made up of the 764th (my Squadron), the 765th, 766th and 767th Bombardment Squadrons. For the move to Italy each plane was carrying four additional men, of which I was one. There were between 900 and 1000 men being flown to Italy in this way. The planes were flown in formation the entire distance. The first leg of our journey took us north from Hammer Field to Hamilton Field which is near San Francisco, CA. It was a relatively short flight, and we flew over the Golden Gate bridge as we arrived. The air base is one of the oldest in the country, and we quartered in the old four story brick barracks. I recall what a chore it was to carry my bags up the flights of stairs, as I was on the fourth floor and I had four large, well stuffed bags. Our main purpose for being at Hamilton Field was to make certain we had all of the equipment necessary. We had to carry the bags up the stairs when we arrived, then down the following morning for inspection, then back up again when that was finished, and then down again on the day we left. It seemed those bags grew heavier each time I carried them - I was glad to have it done with. On 28 January 1944 we began the next part of our journey which took us South from San Francisco to Palm Springs, CA, a sort of "playground" for the movie people of that time. It is also not too far from the Salton Sea which is one of the lowest points in the country, being 235 feet below sea level. Flying from San Francisco through the mountains caused my sinus to give me a lot of pain. It was lucky for me to have the Group Flight Surgeon as a passenger on my airplane because he called for a jeep and took me to the first aid-station and took care of my sinus problem for me. We spent two days and nights at Palm Springs because of some bad weather ahead of us. That gave my sinus time enough to get better. Next we flew to Midland, Texas where we spent one night before flying on to Memphis, TN the next day. On the way to Memphis the "Evil Weevil" developed Generator trouble - a problem for which the airplane would become noted as time went by. I had to get a new generator from Air Corps Supply and I worked until well after dark putting it on the the engine. Two ladies from the Red Cross heard that I was working and hadn't eaten supper so they brought food to me. A nice gesture and a well appreciated one at that! The next part of our trip was to be the last in the continental limits of the USA. It took us to Morrison Field, West Palm Beach, FL. We made the trip from California (about 3,000 miles), made three stopovers, and were airborne about 18-19 hours in four days. I don't recall that we had any difficulty, aside from the generator trouble on the "Evil Weevil". That's amazing since there were more than 50 airplanes involved. It was here in Florida that the ATC made a big change - they "cut" the four passengers from the airplanes at this point and they would permit no more than ten men to fly on each airplane. That meant about 150 men would be left behind and shipped by boat later. The Combat Crews and the airplanes went on without us. After the departure of the Group we were "at loose ends" with nothing to do and nobody really in charge. Some of the men played cards, some went to the USO and some went to the nearby dog track. Anything to pass the time!! We did manage to keep ourselves entertained the next week or so until arrangements could be made to "ship" us North by train. This time we wound up at Camp Patrick Henry, Newport News, VA, the Port of Embarkation for the ETO. This was where we became painfully aware that we really were going overseas to fight war. Everywhere you looked were military uniforms - Infantry, Artillery, Quartermaster, etc. We represented the Air Corps and we were in the minority. There was also a POW compound where German and Italian Prisoners of War were housed. All of the men who made up the Group I was with were Non-commissioned Officers and that created some problems everywhere we went. We could not be put on KP duty or any duties that would keep us busy for any length of time. As a result we sat around and became more bored all of the time. Finally they did come up with something that was different and kept us busy for at least a few hours. A boat load of POW's came into port and their baggage needed to be searched for anything that could be used as a weapon. So, we were given the job of searching the bags. Bright and early one morning we were loaded on trucks and taken to a warehouse down at the port. We were told to remove our jackets, roll up our sleeves and to form a line standing about ten feet apart. After we had done all this, the prisoners began coming into the warehouse. You could tell from their expressions that they were not sure what they were in for. However, they were searched for any sort of weapon. The first question we asked was, "do you speak English?" Some did, but most did not. Most of them had what any other German soldier would have had. However, one man had a "collection" of string, thread, and little bits of cloth all stuffed into a round German gas mask canister. What possible use he might have for saving all of it is a mystery. One rather small Luftwaffe Officer, perhaps a Pilot, was not the least bit pleased that an Enlisted Man was going to search his bags - that was beneath his dignity!! He did finally see the error of his ways and permitted it to be done. I believe the main reason he felt as he did was that he didn't want his uniforms disturbed. They were neatly folded or rolled and placed "just so" in his bags. He was never really what you would call cooperative at any time. All of this commotion helped to break up the monotony for us. After about a week at Camp Patrick Henry, things began to get boring again. Mostly we were a well behaved bunch, so we didn't need a "watch dog", although one man did take an "unauthorized pass" to Chicago and returned without being caught. Another one left and I'm not sure what happened to him. His name was "red-lined" from the orders. We didn't have any problems getting passes to town, but only for a few hours at a time. Our mail was censored, although you could say what you pleased on the telephone. Mainly because it would have been impossible to censor conversation. In one letter to my wife I mentioned having eaten in the Casablanca restaurant and the name of the restaurant was cut from the letter. The strange part of that was that Casablanca was where we were going, but we did not know it at the time. The next thing we heard was that we were going to go on the USS General W. A. Mann, and that we would be doing MP duty during the trip across. We also heard that we would have compartments with only four bunks in them. All of this was good news if it had been true. We did make the trip to Casablanca on the USS General W. A. Mann, a new troop ship on its second voyage. We also did the MP duty on board ship. But we didn't get the compartments as we had thought. That was apparently nothing more than a rumor someone started. We were in regular compartments with bunks that were "stacked" four high and with very little room to move around. We ate from tables that were waist high so that you didn't need to sit down. Those of us on MP duty had one advantage over the others because we could eat at any time since we were on duty four hours and then off duty four hours. Having that "advantage" depended upon your point of view. There were a couple of "comedians" in the bunch who helped to see something humorous in the things that happened to us. One fellow used to jump down from his bunk and say, "hey - let's go somewhere!" That would immediately start lot of nonsensical talk from everyone around him. The main purpose for our being on MP duty was to make sure everyone stayed in his designated area. They were not allowed on deck at night. The hatch door was to be closed and the stairways were to be kept clear. We could not smoke on deck at night when we were on duty. No light could be visible no matter how faint. The ship used no navigation lights which made us as "invisible" as was possible. The General Mann was a new fast troop carrying ship. We had about 3,000 - 4,000 troops onboard. It was possible to outrun a German submarine but, even so, they steered a zigzag course just in case we spotted one. Ordinarily, ships carrying troops would have been in a convoy for protection, but not only was the ship fast, it had radar and some armament. I don't believe we were ever in any danger. One reason being the weather - it was anything but nice during most of the voyage. I remember how foggy it was on the morning we pulled away from Newport News - other ships passed, but just barely visible. The second day out was when we really got into bad weather, and it didn't let up until we were almost to the coast of Africa. A part of our trip took us through the now famous Bermuda triangle, though it was of no importance to us at the time. A good number of the men were seasick because of the rolling of the ship. I was not affected very much, although I was in the "head" in the back of the ship one time and came pretty close to "losing it". There was some water on the floor that constantly ran back and forth with movements of the ship. The longer I sat there and watched it the worse my stomach felt. Finally, when I stood it as long as I could, I made some fast arrangements of my clothes and took off for the main deck and some fresh air. One fellow whose unit was on one of the lower decks became sick and, thinking he was only seasick, didn't report it to sick bay. Finally, by the time he had to do something, it was too late, and he died of complications of appendicitis. The ship had no facility for keeping a body, so he had to be buried at sea. I was on duty when they carried his body out for burial. As they carried the body down the narrow stairway from the deck 3 above, someone lost their grip. The body slid to the deck below before they could gain another hold on it. They placed the body, which was in some sort of body bag, on what appeared to be one of the mess tables. A flag was draped over the body and the board placed on the rail. After a few words by the chaplain, the body was allowed to slip from under the flag into the water below. That was not a pleasant thing to see and I was upset about it for quite a while. It took nine days to cross from Newport news, Virginia to Casablanca, Morocco. We were unescorted the entire trip, except for the last two days, when we had airplanes overhead at regular intervals during the day. Upon arrival in the port at Casablanca, we tied up alongside a damaged French battleship. I believe it had been badly damaged in a battle near Gibraltar. We disembarked across its deck. |
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