The following is one of several incidents related to me by my friends who did fight in the pacific as crew members of the bombers who were responsible for the defeat of our enemies in that part of the world.

As the pressure of the Allies began to increase in early 1945, the B-29 Superbombers began low altitude bombing of Japanese cities. A major portion of the Emperor's fighting planes were either unable to fly or were totally destroyed by the time the “Divine Wind” or Kamikaze program had been devised and activated to protect the homeland.

The Warriors would be in the air before the bombers made the run to drop the terrible incendiary cluster bombs that wreaked horrible havoc on the Japanese cities targeted. As the American planes came on to target, the Kamikazes aimed at them head-on in hopes of crashing and bringing them to the ground in flames.

The electronic controlled gun turrets in each B-29 could focus the fire power of a dozen caliber 50 machine guns on a single target. By coordinating the sighting of four gunners, the combined effect could break a small airplane into tiny harmless pieces from a distance of 1,000 yards.

This 4 turret combination was the technique developed, practically in an instant, to enable the Super Forts to get through the animated minefields in the sky. The aiming, coordination and firing of such a program took the abilities of every member of the bomber crew except the pilot. His job was to determine, second-by-second, how to evade the objects coming at him at closing speeds up to almost 400 miles per hour.

One of the crews that had been through the very heaviest and longest attack finally made it back and landed with heavy damage to their airplane. After every mission, the crews were called in for debriefing. This was to allow the Command people to gather a wealth of information which was evaluated, and if helpful was included in the next attack upon the Japanese enemy. The particular group of this recounting was the last one to go for debriefing because of the late arrival of their crippled B-29.

Each member of the crew related his actions in detail during the entire trip. The Gunners, who described the kind and frequency of the Kamikaze aircraft they had literally blasted from the sky. The Bombardier, Copilot, Navigator and Radar operator took turns operating the forward gun turrets and spotting the incoming suicide machines on which to concentrate the guns.

For some reason, which no one will ever know, the Pilot was the last one to relate his part in this microcosmic portion of the Great War. The man (again, most of these people were barely of voting age) started to speak rapidly and loudly, complaining over and over because his crew refused to let him fire back at those Japs who wanted to kill him. His friends made him just sit and fly the damn plane.

After a few minutes, the Pilot dropped to the floor, screamed, “Oh God!” and assumed a fetal position. The medics had to carry him out to the hospital tent. As far as anyone knew, the young man never regained his sanity while on the island. His fellow crew members could only watch as he was loaded on a transport plane for home and mental treatment.

Two years after the end of WW II Pete Papazian, my old buddy from Lowry and Great Bend days, was stationed at the Air Base in my home town, Rapid City, SD He remembered our bull sessions and my constant bragging about the Black Hills, Mt. Rushmore and all the wonderful advantages of my origins.

After he got settled in, it only took a moment with the phone book to determine his old friend was in town, so he gave me a telephone call. We got together over many a scotch-on-the rocks, to compare military experiences after we lost track of each other in the grind of our air force individual assignments.

“Pappy” was assigned to one of the first B-29 groups to go overseas. This was before the necessary tactical islands in the Marianas had been wrested from the Japanese. The Allies plan was to base in New Delhi, India, fly over the Himalayas and accumulate fuel in Western China for an attack on Japan.

My friend couldn't recall how many times his aerial gas truck flew the “Hump” with a 500 gallon tank of fuel carried in each of the two bomb bays in his plane. The Chinese were our friends at this point in the Century's history, and they constructed the landing strips and storing facilities for this plan.

The workers literally carried millions of woven baskets full of small stones which they placed individually on the leveled road to make an adequate surface for the big airplanes to land and take off. These people were peasants who had no knowledge of machinery or much else common to others in the 20th Century.

When they saw the huge propellors of these enormous airplanes, they concocted a surefire way to rid themselves of evil spirits. As the Super Fortresses taxied in to unload, the natives threw themselves directly under the whirring blades of steel. This probably cleansed the people of their resident evil forces, but it drove the crew members almost crazy.

Instructions from the High Command forbid any harming of our allies who were making it possible to start the final defeat of our enemy. The words “Gung Ho” were the Chinese equivalent of “We are best pals, we love each other, together we have the spirit to win, and etc., etc., etc., Our guys were ordered to return every “gung Ho” with a “back at you” repetition and a big smile.

After several of the oriental workers misjudged the location of the propeller tips and became chopped meat, the Americans fast lost their patience. No amount of complaining to the Chinese officials resulted in any noticeable changes in the “spirit cleansing” efforts of their people. The change in feelings was illustrated by the answer to the passwords. The Airmen held up “the finger”, smiled ear-to-ear chanting, “Gung Ho, you stupid little yellow bastards!”

Somehow the purpose of the China stockpile efforts did pay off with the first B-29 raid on the Japanese Islands.