Lt. James thought he could fly the men out if they built a strip for him to land his L-5. He dropped a map showing a clearing two miles away where he would meet Gibbons and Rhodes. The next day, James was back with more supplies and a note requesting the men to clear an area at least 150 paces long and informing them that T/Sgt. Allen J. Lockwood would be picking them up soon. That afternoon, Lockwood landed his L-4 on the soft strip and realized he would not be able to reach takeoff speed with another person on board. He stayed with the men overnight and helped them clear out more grass. The next day, the ground was still soft, but with the help of the wind, Lockwood was airborne with Gibbons. There was not enough daylight to go back and get Rhodes, who ended up spending the night worrying about Japanese troops. Lockwood returned to the site and retrieved Rhodes the next morning.

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Lt. Davidson was flying his plane, THE HELL’N PELICAN II, with two other aircraft lagging behind the main formation making its way back from Hollandia. This three-aircraft flight, led by 1/Lt. Edward T. Cassidy, burned more fuel as they tried to catch up. Davidson knew that he could not stay with the group much longer because he was very low on fuel. He relayed the information to Cassidy and then left the two planes to find a clearing he had passed by not too long ago. He gave his gunner, Sgt. John McKenna the option to bail, but McKenna decided to stay with Davidson. As Davidson lowered the flaps for landing, the left engine cut out, and the aircraft landed nearly 50 yards from the jungle’s edge. The uninjured men climbed out of the lightly damaged aircraft and prepared to spend the night in the jungle.

Davidson’s plane remained where it landed until 1984 when it was salvaged by the Royal Australian Air Force.

The next morning, the men discovered the turret guns still worked since they ran off the plane’s battery. They took turns manning the guns while waiting for help. Supplies were dropped from a P-40 (those disappeared into the jungle), followed by an A-20, and two B-24s. Intelligence officers at Gusap thought the best way to rescue the two men would be for them to meet up with Gibbons and Rhodes, 16 miles to the southwest. The men set off toward the other crew, only to be caught in a heavy downpour that night. This forced the men to find higher ground. The next morning, they returned to the A-20 because their compass had been ruined by the water and they needed it to navigate through the swamp. The next rescue plan was to clear a strip for the “Guinea Short Lines” to land. After spending five days trying to clear the grass, the L-4A pilot decided landing there would not work.

On April 24th, the town of Madang was secured by the Allies. It was decided that Davidson and McKenna should float 60 miles down the Gogol River to Madang. Two one-man rafts were dropped, and the 312th monitored their progress from the air as the crew made its way downstream.  They signaled for a five-man raft so it would be easier to stay away from crocodiles in the river. They found the new raft in a tree a day later and received a note saying they were two miles away from Astrolabe Bay, south of Madang. Sixteen days after setting off from Gusap on April 16th, the men made it to the bay, where Australians took them to Madang. From there, two L-5s flew the men back to Gusap. This was McKenna’s third crash landing, and it left him feeling like he would die if he flew again. He was granted a request for ground duty back at the States and boarded a B-25 for Nadzab, the first step in returning to the States. The plane that carried him out of Nadzab disappeared into a storm, never to be seen or heard from again.

The L-4 JUG HAID.

Because of this capability, A Flight, the group based at Gusap, received the nickname of the “Guinea Short Lines.” Their symbol of a kangaroo was very fitting for this squadron that hopped all over New Guinea. The “Guinea Short Lines” would play a key role in the rescue of three Roarin’ 20′s crews.

———–

Out of the four crews that had not been accounted for by the end of April 16th, one would never make it back. After ditching in the sea near Yalau Plantation, Smart and Music waited to be picked up by a Catalina. They were never seen or heard from again. The other three crews, 1/Lt. Glen Benskin and S/Sgt. Winifred F. Westerman of the 387th Squadron, 2/Lt. Joseph E. Gibbons and Cpl. Orville J. Rhodes of the 388th Squadron, and 2/Lt. Charles H. Davidson and Sgt. John J. McKenna also of the 388th, had their own stories of survival in returning to the 312th.
Lt. Benskin was flying back from the Hollandia raid with the rest of the 312th when he discovered his radio did not work and he lost contact with his wingmen. Benskin spotted Smart’s plane, THE TEXAN, and followed him for awhile. Smart soon appeared to head for Wewak as he turned towards the Ramu River, so Benskin thought Smart might be lost and flew off on his own. Benskin’s gunner, Westermann, told Benskin that their aircraft BENNY’S BABY did not have much fuel left and that they needed to land. Benskin made a gear-up landing and set down in a kunai grass swamp 200 yards from the Ramu River and 20 miles north of the Japanese-occupied village of Annenberg. The grass spun their plane around and the nose ended up bent sideways, which did not let the canopy of the cockpit open. Benskin was helped out through a window by Westermann.

Benskin’s plane in the kunai grass.

The two men spent the night battling mosquitoes and leeches in the swamp. The next morning, a search plane spotted the men and dropped supplies. With that came a note saying they should walk west ten miles to a native village, but that was nearly impossible due to the thick kunai grass that was up to ten feet tall in some areas.
While the men were building a shelter a few hundred yards away from the crash site, Benskin accidentally cut his knee with his folding machete. It wasn’t long before the wound became infected. At this point, the chance of being rescued was not good. With the Japanese so close by, a rescue plane could not risk landing on the river. After some searching, a suitable site that could be turned into an improvised landing strip was spotted about a mile and a half downstream. The area was cleared by P-40s from the 49th Fighter Group dropping belly tanks and setting them on fire with tracer rounds and then the men received supplies for making the 225-foot strip. Fifteen days after Benskin had landed in the swamp, the men were back at Gusap. They were rescued by S/Sgt. Walter A. James of the 25th Liaison Squadron. James first took Benskin to Gusap and then returned to the crash site for Westermann about an hour later. Benskin had scrub typhus, malaria and blood poisoning due to his leg wound and spent six weeks in the Gusap Field Hospital. His gunner fared much better and was in good condition when the two were rescued.

Lt. Benskin recovering at Gusap.

Stay tuned for part three of the Black Sunday raid.

Bad weather at Hollandia delayed the Group from leaving Gusap until 1055. The crews bombed their targets of barges, stores and fuel dumps in between Sentani Lake and Jautefa Bay. After making their runs, the 312th formed up and headed for Gusap. With decent weather for the first half of the journey back, the men were able to grab a bite to eat while they flew home.

This photo from the Black Sunday raid shows the attacks going on behind the Japanese officer quarters.

As they flew on towards the Ramu Valley, conditions rapidly deteriorated. The planes were near Amaimon, 78 miles north of Gusap, when the weather completely closed in around them. Col. Strauss was in the lead and had to decide what the best way back home would be. He rejected flying to Saidor because he did not know what the weather was like there or if Saidor would be able to handle the number of planes since this base was only a few weeks old.
Strauss and the rest of the formation circled for about an hour in hopes of spotting a break in the clouds. As they circled, visibility improved enough for the hilltops to be seen, and Strauss thought there might be fair skies on the other side. Sure enough, he was right. At 1715, the Group began landing at rainy Gusap. Not everyone stayed with Col. Strauss. There were still 16 312th aircraft somewhere out in the stormy weather. The 312th wasn’t the only group with missing crews. By the end of the day Fifth Air Force could not account for 70 planes.

By nightfall, 12 Roarin’ 20′s aircraft had landed at Faita, Saidor and Finschhafen, four at each base. There were still four crews missing: Capt. Frank P. Smart with gunner T/Sgt. Michael Music, Lt. Glen Benskin and S/Sgt. Winifred F. Westerman, 2/Lt. Joseph E. Gibbons and Cpl. Orville J. Rhodes, and 2/Lt. Charles H. Davidson and Sgt. John J. McKenna.

Smart had been granted permission from Col. Strauss to leave the formation and fly to Saidor. He left with four other planes piloted by 1/Lts. Donald J. McGibbon and Robert J. Findley, and 2/Lts. Robert C. Smith and James L. Knarr.

Knarr landing his plane at Gusap in April 1944.

As they flew, the weather improved and Smart, Findley and Knarr decided to fly five miles offshore to avoid enemy ack-ack, while  McGibbon and Smith stayed near the coastline. At 1730, McGibbon heard Smart contacting a Catalina about ditching. As Smart descended, Smith noted that the propellers were working and thought Smart wanted to ditch while he could still control his plane. Smart and Music made it out of the plane safely, McGibbon and Findley radioed Smart’s position to Saidor and two PT boats that seemed to be on their way to the ditching site. Feeling confident that Smart and his gunner would soon be in good hands, the remaining crews flew off to Saidor. The next day, there was still no sign of Smart or Music. The four planes flew over the ditching site and saw the submerged plane, but neither crew member. Their fate is still a mystery.

Stay tuned for part two!

Hollandia before Operation Reckless.

Hollandia after Operation Reckless.

Kenney continued organizing missions to Hollandia on April 5-8th. The 312th was sent to Humboldt and Jautefa Bays to take out various military targets including Japanese ships and barges. The Roarin’ 20′s left the bays enveloped in a plume of black smoke that rose over 1000 feet. The Group was not able to attack Hollandia on the 8th because of the infamous bad weather.

Some of the Japanese aircraft after Fifth Air Force bombed Hollandia.

MacArthur wanted to invade Hollandia on April 22nd, however, Kenney wanted to make sure none of the Japanese planes survived the previous attacks and that reinforcements had not arrived. He chose April 16th as the day for the last attack on  Hollandia. This day would come to be known as “Black Sunday.”

Operation Reckless was in the works when the Americans broke the Japanese military code and discovered that the enemy felt secure. The Japanese had no idea that the newest P-38 Lightning, the J model, was equipped with wing tanks that enabled the planes to fly all the way to Hollandia. Fifth Air Force modified 75 older Lightnings to carry long range fuel tanks as well.
General MacArthur planned to invade Hollandia with the use of surprise and deception. With the help of Gen. Kenney, Fifth Air Force was able to lure the Japanese into the trap. Kenney told the P-38 pilots that they could not fly farther than Tadji, a village at least 100 miles away from Hollandia, and that they must not stay in the area for longer than 15 minutes if the pilots became engaged in combat. He also began ineffective night raids to make the Japanese think the Allies did not dare fly daylight raids without escorts. This worked so well that Tokyo Rose began mocking the Allies, and the Japanese started parking their planes near the runways because there were not enough revetments.

Kenney wanted to make a low-level strike, but there were many antiaircraft guns that would have to be taken out by the B-24s first. On March 29th, a message from the Japanese Army High Command to Lt. Gen. Kumaichi Teramoto was intercepted by the Allies. This message was ordering Teramoto to move the airplanes stationed at Hollandia because of Fifth Air Force’s planned attack, which made the timing of the B-24 assault urgent. Maj. Gen. Ennis C. Whitehead would be the man in charge of carrying out the attack.

Stay tuned for part 2!

• Any photos of 3rd Bomb Group A-20s from 1944-1945

• Information on pilots and/or crew chiefs of the 3rd Bomb Group 1944-1945 aircraft

• Any close up photos of THE HOT HORSE, an early 13th Squadron 3rd Bomb Group B-25 (nose art would be ideal)

• 13th Squadron B-25 photos of the white skull nose from late 1943 to early 1944 and the checkerboard on the rear engine nacelles

• Color photos of airplanes belonging to the 3rd or 43rd Bomb Groups and Tainan Kokutai

• Any photos from the 417th Bomb Group and any crew (air or ground crew) contact information

Thank you!

Officers and enlisted men of the 312th play a friendly game of baseball.

The men never forgot they were in a war. The return of the air echelon to Gusap was staggered with the 387th arriving on March 7th, the 389th on the 11th and the 388th returning on the 27th. Not long after each squadron arrived came the first taste of combat. The 387th Squadron flew its first combat mission on March 8th, the 389th on the 13th and the 388th on the 29th. March was a difficult month for the 389th Squadron with the loss of four crews. On the 13th, nine planes from the 389th flew a mission to Alexishafen. Maj. Wells led the mission and was hit by antiaircraft fire during the attack, but was able to ditch in the ocean. Col. Strauss left Lt. Hedges to lead the rest of the formation home while he circled over Wells and his gunner, S/Sgt. Jack W. Bachelder. After the two were picked up by a PBY Catalina, Strauss flew back to Gusap.
The seven remaining A-20s flew into bad weather on their way back to Gusap. Hedges was running low on fuel and figured the safest thing to do would be to cross the Finnesterre Mountains and glide into Gusap if necessary. When there was a break in the clouds, Hedges saw three other planes instead of six.
2/Lt. Calvin Slade was a pilot in one of the remaining planes, but he was having trouble keeping his position in the bad weather and decided to leave the formation and turn back. Relying on his instruments, Slade flew to the ocean where the cloud bank ended. From there, he followed the coastline and eventually found his way to the Ramu River and Gusap. The three missing A-20s never made it back.
The next day, the Squadron began looking for the missing crews or plane wreckage but could not find either. The searched continued for a week before the Squadron gave up. The men thought the crews had either run out of fuel or crashed into the mountains. Nearly 40 years later, the aircraft belonging to 2/Lt. Henry J. Miar and gunner S/Sgt. Harley A. Spear was discovered in the Finnesterre Mountains near Saidor. Over the next few years, searchers found the other two planes flown by 2/Lt. Valerie L. Pollard and gunner Sgt. Dominick J. Licari and 2/Lt. Carl H. Hansen and gunner Sgt. Ernest Bustamante. They had flown in formation into the mountains.

The tail section of A-20 #42-54117.

The fourth loss occurred March 22nd when the 389th was flying to Valif Island for another mission. As pilots were maneuvering to avoid being hit by antiaircraft fire, the formation approached the tree-lined coast. 1/Lt. Cyril J. Karsnia’s aircraft clipped a palm tree, flipped over, crashed and exploded on the ground. He and his gunner, Cpl. James B. Caldwell, did not survive. With this accident came the question, was the 389th was jinxed? A quarter of the Squadron’s strength was lost in less than two weeks.
Lts. Edgar Hambleton and Kenneth Hedges put a stop to those thoughts with their narrow escapes. During a mission to Wom Point on March 25th, the 389th was bombing and strafing when an explosion occurred in front of Hamblelton’s plane. Debris from the explosion shattered the windscreen and a piece of glass hit Hambleton’s face. The shard was found to be part of a 500-pound bomb. Hambleton credited wearing his helmet and goggles on every mission for saving his vision and possibly his life.
Two days after Hambleton’s close call, the 389th was once again on a mission to Wom Point. Hedges dove down on his target, but miscalculated his pullout and slammed the rear of his A-20 into the ground while trying to escape a disastrous wreck. While pulling up, Hedges clipped a coconut tree with one wing. The collision ripped off one bomb bay door and left the other attached by the rear hinge, banging against the fuselage. Because the plane was in such poor shape, Hedges told his gunner, S/Sgt. Thomas A. Donovan, to prepare for a water landing. This was aborted when the other bomb bay door fell off and the plane gained some altitude. The new problem was coconut leaves getting stuck in the starboard engine, causing it to overheat. Hedges was able to keep the engine temperature in the “green” zone by continuously changing the power setting, and the plane limped back to Gusap.
Hedges had sent various radio transmissions about his status, and by the time he got to the runway, people had lined up to watch his landing. After he landed, he applied the brakes very hard and caused the landing gear to lock. The plane was damaged beyond repair and became a source for spare parts. Many of the men were amazed that the plane had made it back to Gusap. These two experiences banished the thought of a jinx on the 389th.

Lt. Kenneth Hedges poses with his plane back at Gusap after hitting a tree on a mission to Wom Point.

Two of the 312th’s A-20s at Durand Airdrome.

The 386th Squadron was the first to train and fly the A-20. The planes arrived from the U.S. by ship and were assembled in Townsville, Australia. Pilots flew to Townsville in a C-47 and would fly back to Port Moresby in their new planes. Of course there was always the occasional adventure while flying back from Townsville.
On January 19th, 1/Lt. John M. Huber, 2/Lt. Eliot R. Young and their gunners, Thomas Smith and James Wannich, respectively, were flying to Horn Island when they became separated from the rest of the formation. Due to an error in navigation, the pilots became lost. They force-landed on Mornington Island, which happened to be 450 miles to the south of Horn Island.

Lt. John Huber’s A-20 stuck in the sand after landing on Mornington Island.

They spent ten days there waiting for help and surviving the elements. A PBY Catalina on patrol spotted the four men on January 28th, picked them up and flew them to Karumba, where they spent the next three weeks recovering from their ordeal. They knew they were lucky to be alive. Throughout the 312th’s stay at Port Moresby, there were several fatalities. 2/Lt. Chester B. Rimer was practicing a bombing run on February 4th when his plane spiraled into the sea with Pvt. Stanley J. Monroe, PFC Morlan B. Priebe and Cpl. Mitchell P. Iler aboard as passengers. On the 22nd, the 388th’s B-25 AVAILABLE JONES disappeared with 1/Lt. Anthony Hartley, 1/Lt. George K. Nichols, Sgt. Claude O. Langlinais, Capt. Samuel D. Perry, 1/Lt. Henry E. Felix, 2/Lt. Leo W. Tiberghien and 2/Lt. Hugh H. Eaton on board. The 388th lost three more members on March 26th when an A-20 carrying 1/Lt. John W. Hoover, Sgt. Warren E. Pelissier and S/Sgt. Louis E. Lawson crashed not long after taking off in a thunderstorm.
The 386th also got to be the first squadron of the Group to take the A-20s into combat. The Squadron flew a mission to Alexishafen on February 25th to take out the Japanese antiaircraft positions.

Alexishafen before it was destroyed by Allied bombings.

The mission was a success. Three days later, they wrote off their first A-20, O’RILEY’S DAUGHTER, after the pilot forgot to lower the landing gear, which damaged the plane beyond repair. It wasn’t long before the rest of the squadrons would join the 386th in their new A-20s.