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THURSDAY, APRIL 19, 1945 CHAPTER IV: En route to New York Scott is stopped by police who mistake him for a bandit. He carries the mall for Unci? Sam in order to gain more flying time, and gets married CHAPTER V: IT.e wai edges closer and he is farther than ever from combat duty. He has been told he is too old for combat flying, and after December 7. 1941. he begins writing Generals all over the country for a chance to fly a fighter plane. CHAPTER VI: Scott solos a Flying Fortress for the first time and makes twenty practice landings. He leaves for India from a Florida point CHAPTER VII: Easter Sunday in Af rica. They fly along the Arabian coast and land at Karachi. India, covering 12,000 miles in eight days. CHAPTER VIII: Col. Haynes orders the group to report at a base in Eastern Assam, on the India-Burma border. CHAPTER IX: Burma is falling into the hands of the Japs. Flying over bombed and burned Chinese towns they land at Schwebo. Scott meets General Stilwell and his party. CHAPTER X: Scott's group carries refugees out of Burma, heavily overload ing the planes. He pays a visit to Gen. Chennault and tells him he is a fighter pilot and not a ferry pilot and is prom ised the next P-40 that arrives from Africa. CHAPTER XI: Open season on Japs— the big adventure is near. Scott gets his first Jap—an army bomber on the ground. He burns up some Jap trucks and a fuel dump. CHAPTER XH: Scott goes on some strafing missions with his "Old Ex terminator." as he has now nicknamed his Kittvhawk, and cuts a Jap battalion to bits. CHAPTER XIII: The AVG are told they are to be inducted into the U. S. army. Scott returns to India and con tinues his single |hlp raids on the Japs. He is now known back in the States as "the one man air force." CHAPTER XIV: Col. Haynes is moved to China to head the bomber command under Gen. Chennault and Scott is left alone as commanding officer of the Ferry Command. Scott is ordered to report to Gen. Chennault in Kunming. China, as commanding officer of the 23rd Fighter Group. CHAPTER XV: Col. Scott is ordered to proceed to the Kweilin area to take charge of fighter operations. CHAPTER XVI Well, the lost leader looked at his map and still couldn’t see how he was North of the course and really past his destination. So he began to argue again. The old Navy op erator stood the bickering as long as he could then he “took over.” With the initiative he had devel oped, he gave off some of the most classic advice that I’ve ever heard, and he gave it straight from the shoulder. “Goddamit,” he called, “who the hell’s lost, you or me? Now you fly the course I’m telling you and we’ll meet you.” And so another man of the Occi dent failed to change the East, and in failing learned a little and be came a little more like the East. It saved twenty-five airplanes. People have asked me what made me able to shoot down my first Jap, and probably they expected me to say that I had practised on tow targets until I could put every shot in the black. Or that I had been to all the schools from Leavenworth to Mount Holyoke, and had learned tactics. Or perhaps that I was bet ter at piloting than the Jap. I must have disappointed them. For if any one thing more than another enabled me to meet the Japanese fighter pi lots in the air and shoot them down while I escaped, it was an American girl. First of all, I don’t know exactly what democracy is, or the real, com mon-sense meaning of a republic. But as we used to talk things over in China, we all used to agree that we were fighting for The American Girl. She to us was America, De mocracy, Coca Colas, Hamburgers, Clean Places to Sleep, or The Amer ican Way of Life. To hurriedly explain this theory, let me say that I learned to fly as anybody else did—with an instructor in a flying school. That is, I learned to take a trainer off and to land it. But to correct this, I learned to be a combat pilot by flying all over the Western Hemisphere to see an American Girl. I went from every State in the Union to Georgia to see her. I went from South America to Panama to see the same girl. I went from Central America to the Canal Zone to see her. All on gov ernment missions certainly, but that mission was more to develop myself into being a pilot who could navigate over the world, or fly instruments when I had to, or fly at night, than it was to carry out the routine flight that I was on. I always imagined that my sole duty was to get through with the ship safely. I knew that if I could get through in peace time I could get through in war. Then if I could fly the ship as an expert, I would only have to point the guns at the ri^’.t place and the GOD IS MY CO-PILOT Col. Robert L.Scoff SYNOPSIS CHAPTER 1: Scott’s early experiences with gliders and airplanes He goes to Ft. McPherson and enlists in the regular army as a private. CHAPTER H: Scott wins the West Point competitive exam and gets a fur lough before reporting. He is graduated as a second lieutenant of infantry and goes to Europe, which he tours on a motorcycle. He sells his motorcycle and arrives at Randolph Field. Texas CHAPTER III: Scott makes his first solo flight. Drives 1.300 miles to Georgia over every week-end to see his girl. Scott is new graduated from Kelly Field and has wings pinned on his chest Ordered to report to Hawaii but wanting to get married he lays his plight before the General and is ordered to report at Mitchel Field. N Y.. instead. WN.U. RE.LEAS& enemy would go down. To prove this, I go on and answer the question further by saying, “No, ma’am, I didn’t learn it in school. Why, my greatest victory in the air was on a cross-country—that’s what we call a navigation flight.’’ And here’s the story. Early one morning—July 31, 1942 —I took off from Kunming head quarters to return to the eastern theater at Kweilin and Hengyang. High mountains are on this five hundred-mile route to the East, and I went on top of the overcast right away. From my twenty-thousand foot altitude I kept looking down at the solid cloud layer just below me, and I guess that subconsciously I prayed there would be breaks at my destination. There were mountains at my destination too, and it’s still not the best feeling to have to dive through overcast into hilly country with a fighter ship—or with any ship, for that matter. As the minutes rolled by and the miles spun behind the P-40, I still didn’t see the welcome shadow of a hole in the clouds. In just a little over two hours I arrived over the point above the clouds where Ling ling should have been. You see this point was in flat country, and be tween Kweilin and Hengyang. By intentionally making an error to the North I knew at least what side of Kweilin I was on, and knew further more that I could go down much more safely there than farther South in the mountains that surrounded Kweilin. I called Lingling over the radio, but before I could get a reply, Sas ser, the operator at Kweilin, broke in with an “alert” warning. He said: “Chinese net reports noise of enemy airplanes coming up the Can ton-Hengyang Railway at high al titude. Last report Section A-5.” Looking at my map, which was marked off in squares with letter and numeral co-ordinates, I saw that I was very close to that section. But at the same time I was really not oriented as to position, and was into the last twenty or so gallons of my fuel. Here was a chance at last to intercept enemy planes by the time the P-40’s from our fighter sta tions could get there, the enemy would have gone on with their mis sion. What was I to do? As I considered it for the second that was necessary to make up my mind, I remember thinking that my loss of this ship would be justified if I shot a Japanese ship down, and if I was out of fuel above the clouds I could dive down and land in a rice paddy. That would be an even trade. But I guess my ego thought I could shoot the whole formation down and the exchange of the Japanese flight for my one ship would certainly be favorable to our side. .zjMmu But my mind was already made up. Even then I was on my way towards the position that I thought was Section A-5, there on the pretty white tops of the overcast. Calling to Sasser, I told him I thought I was just East of Lingling and very close to the Jap formation, and was going to try to intercept. I dove down until I was just over the tops of the clouds, at 17,600 feet. I dodged in among the tops of the fluffy cumulus, looking ahead for the first sign of the black silhouette of an airplane. As the enemy ships had been reported heading North, I estimated where they should now be and flew to intercept them. I’ll never forget. I had just looked at the fuel gauge for the hundredth time, and as my eyes left the in strument board to go back to my diligent search, I saw the clock, and the hour was 9:08. At that instant I saw an enemy airplane—one sil houette. From that second on, I know I moved automatically. I saw that on our courses we were going to meet head-on. The other ship was now much nearer, and closing fast. It was a twin-engine bomber and was right down low over the clouds, just as I was. Down below now were holes in the overcast, and I imagine the bomber was trying to locate its po sition to go down through. He didn't see my ship, and I kept hidden by the clouds as much as possible. I felt my left hand go to the instr ment panel to turn on the gun switch. Then, as I looked at the red switch, I saw that I had evidently turned it on without being conscious of the act. I moved it off, then back on again, as a kind of test. I turned the gun-sight rheostat on and got the lighted sight reflected on my glass armor in front of my eyes. The enemy ship came on, “mushrooming” in my vision our relative speed of approach was per haps five hundred miles an hour. By now I had shoved everything forward on the throttle quadrant— the engine was pulling full power, and the prop pitch was set to high speed, low pitch. Then, just before I pressed the trigger, I saw the other planes, two enemy fighters above and be hind the bomber. I had evidently not been seen by any of the three ships, for after all I was coming on very close to the clouds. But I nearly stopped my aiming from the surprise of seeing them. They were about three thousand feet above the bomber, and were weaving back and forth in loose formation. 1 saw the square wing-tip that told they were Navy Zeros. There flashed in my mind the warning that I had heard from General Chennault about at tacking bombers when there was fighter escort. Everyone in China had always neglected to consider odds on the side.of the .enemy—they were useC to Hud just didn’t know enough about aerial combat to worry much, or I might have gone on anyway. My six guns would neutralize their four I could shoot the bomber down and dive into the clouds before the Zeros could get me. I really don’t know whether I thought it all out or not, for by now I was shooting. The tracers seemed to go towards the enemy all right, but now the Jap came into my sights so fast that I don't know whether they hit him then or not. I dove right under the nose of the twin engine ship, and I’ll bet he was one surprised pilot. I noted that he had started to turn and maybe that made me miss. As the ship crossed over my head, I pulled around in the tightest turn I have ever made, mushing down in the clouds a good distance, and that must have hid me momentarily from the fighter escort. As I came out, the bomber was completing its turn opposite to the way I had turned, and I moved in for a full deflection shot—a shot possible when the other ship is crossing your path, at 90 degrees. I had slowed down, however, and had to reef in and shoot at it from beneath and behind. I got a good burst in here. But now I saw tracers all around me and felt a couple of hits: the Zeros were shooting at me. One of the enemy fighters dove in front of me and I got a snap shot at it from ,a hundred yards. I dove under the bomber again, and with the speed that I gained, tried to make a belly attack I got in another shot burst and felt some more hits on my ship. As I pulled up, the Zero that had been shooting at me made the mis take of rolling at the top of his climb, and I dove at him and gave him about two hundred rounds with a no-deflection shot I knew the burst hit him badly. I shot at the other fighter from long range as he tried I I fe Some fifty-caliber ammunition for the P-40. a head-on run. But the clouds were worrying the Japs—they seemed to have trouble seeing me. As my dive at the Zero built my speed up, I turned towards the bomber again it saw me and started a turn to the right. I snapped a short head-on shot, and before I got to the enemy ship, I tossed caution to the winds and made a hundred and eighty de gree turn—the Jap was right in front of my guns and I was already shooting. I held the trigger down and saw the tracers hit the big wing, the fuselage, and saw the glass stream from the canopy. I just squeezed the trigger and “froze” as the bomber seemed to come back towards me. As I drew up to less than a hun dred yards the big red spots on the wing grew wider and wider apart, and I saw. pieces come from the left engine. I nearly rammed the enemy—I still don’t see how I missed the radio antenna pole be hind the glass canopy I could see the guns w’aving to and fro, and they shot at me. But the bomber was going down. I didn’t pull up as I went past him this time, but dove steeply. When I came out of the dive I looked back for the Zeros but they were not to be seen. Above and behind me, the bomber was spinning slowly in flames, the black smoke making a spiral above the clouds—I saw it go into the clouds as I mushed through in my pullout. I came out below the clouds, which were broken in a few places now, but I couldn’t see the Jap ships. I made one half circle and didn’t know where I was. Finally remembering my fuel sup ply, I breathlessly glanced at the gauges, and they were all bouncing around on—EMPTY! I turned and headed West with my throttle re tarded and the prop set back for cruising. Now I called Sasser, hav ing forgotten to call him at the mo ment of contact with the enemy. I. told him about the interception, that I knew I had shot down the bomber and had gotten some bursts on the fighters. Sasser told me that there was a flight on the way from Hengyang, led by Gil Bright. My altitude was ten thousand now and I held it while I just about glid ed with power to the West, where I should see the Hengyang-Kweilin railroad. As I finished my report over the radio, Sasser in Kweilin told me S-3, and Richardson at Hengyang said S-3 also. But Miller at Lingling told me I sounded very close to his station, and gave me the report S-5. These mean, in radio technical language, that my volume was louder iri Lingling than at either of the other two stations. More than likely I was closer to the middle town. I assumed this and flew West, letting down gradually. Just then Miller must have re ceived a report from a town that heard my engine, for he said, “You’re Northeast of the field.” I turned a little South and saw the welcome red clay of Lingling. I started feeling happy then—I’d been in the air on a cross-country for nearly four hours, and knew that I’d shot down at least one plane. I couldn't buzz the field though, for any minute I expected the engine to cou^h and the grop to jstart THE BLUFFTON NEWS, BLU1 War Vet /W 1 THIS LITTLE POLISH BOY knows about war at an age when—in peace time—be would have been knowing about fairy tales. He was orphaned during the Warsaw, uprising, he was wounded, he doesn’t even know his name. Now he is, awaiting the food, clothing, and medicines which UNRRA is preparing to give hm. “windmilling”—out of gas. I put the wheels down and landed without even looking to see which way the wind was on the runway. I got the ship parked without the engine’s dy ing, but the mechanics said they couldn’t see any fuel in the tanks. Rather excitedly I told my story. We counted the holes in my ship and then went over to count those in one of the fighters that had been in another battle that morning. Just then Miller came dashing up in a jeep to say that my air engage ment had been reported over Lei yang, sixty miles to the East, and that confirmation had already come in on my bomber. It had crashed and burned eight miles from the town. That noon I was so excited that I couldn’t eat my lunch—I just sat there and relived the battle. The sergeant came in to tell me there were seventeen holes in my ship, and two of them were from the cannon of the Zeros—they were all back near the tail so maybe George Paxton had been right, and maybe the little bastards couldn’t shoot. Well, we were to find out during the next ten days, very vividly. I flew on to Hengyang that after noon, and with Lieutenant Cluck in a jeep we drove to Leiyang. We had information that some of the crew or passengers had jumped from the bomber that morning and had been captured, and we needed the prison ers for information. With Chinese guides we climbed on foot over the rice paddies built on the hills, to wards the scene of the crashed plane. Even before we’d covered the ten or more miles that we had to walk, I saw evidence of the air plane. It seemed as if every coolie that came towards us was carrying a piece of the Jap plane. Near the wreck I saw pieces of aluminum on the houses covering holes in the roofs, and saw some of the clothes from the Jap airmen. These we ex amined, and found a notebook, a map, and a pistol. Later the soldiers at the wreck gave us a chute and some other things of military value. When we came to the burned bomber we found it pretty well scat tered. The fabric was gone from the parts that hadn’t burned, but the larger part was just a mass oi burned metal. I noticed that the bodies of four Japs were lying where they had fallen, and several days later other visitors reported them still in the same positions. I looked in vain through the wreckage for a Samurai sword, which is the souve nir we value most from the Jap. Beaverdam Mr. and Mrs. P. C. Solomon are vis iting Mr. and Mrs. Joe Pennington and daughter in Wisconsin. Mr. and Mrs. Elzie Gierhart, Pfc. Ronald Dunlap, Mrs. Dunlap and dau ghter Shirley were Sunday dinner guests of Mr. and Mrs. Albert Truax and family. Mrs. Etta Yant was a Saturday din ner guest of Mr. and Mrs. Cecil Hart man and family. Mrs. Donald Michael entertained the members of the Leisure Hour club at her home on Tuesday evening. The Win-A-Couple class of the Methodist church had a covered dish dinner Sunday evening in the church basement. Present were Rev. and Mrs. D. C. Chiles, Mr. and Mrs. Roy Herr, Mr. and Mrs. Ed Herr, Mr. and Mrs. Donald Michael, Mr. and Mrs. Kenneth Gierhart and son Jerry, Mr. and Mrs. Ray Zimmerman and dau ghter Wilma, Mr. and Mrs. Russell Augsburger of Waynesfield. Mrs. Charles Hall spent the past week in Dayton with her mother who is reported seriously ill. Mr. and Mrs. Byron Anderson and daughter Karen, Mr. and Mrs. Earl Matter and daughter Carolyn of Bluff ton were Sunday dinner guests of Mr. and Mrs. Ed Cook and Mrs. Win. Weick. Mr. and Mrs. Fred Murphy of Scott spent the week end with Mrs. Nettie Young. Mrs. Lillie Anderson spent the week end with Mrs. Margaret Yant and son Dickie at Lima. Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence Ludwig and family of Cincinnati ware week end visitors of Mrs. Mina Augsburger and Miss Louise Schaublin. Mr. and Mrs. Frank Roberts of Li ma were recent visitors of Mrs. Dora Roberts. News Want-ads bring results. ON, OHIO Oldtimers declare there’s always an Laster storm—so Monday’s rain and high wind must have been it blew down trees, electric lines and started a fire in an overturned brooder house and just to keep the record straight we’ll mention that it rained the second Sunday after Easter if it didn’t rain the first Bluffton’s downtown district strange ly quiet for an hour Saturday after noon as business places closed from 3 to 4 as a mark- of respect to the memory of President Roosevelt and this is opera week in Cleveland which used to be a high spot of the year for a lot of Bluffton music fans, when cars were younger and gas was plentiful and speaking of gas, there’s an extra ration for victory gardeners, if you are a gardener who really gardens and you need transportation to get to your garden and George Hacker of Cleveland, former Bluffton man had a happy birthday last Saturday, we are sure, since he received a year’s subscription to the Bluffton News as a present in honor of the occasion looks like happy days are coming back again—at least clothes pins have been added to un der the counter stocks that stores here keep for regular customers... but what we said about clothes pins doesn’t apply to telephones—we heard the other day there’s a waiting list of more than 40 at the central office here which looks like a lot of conversation will be indefinitely de layed and here in the middle of April is open season for mush rooms—never recall seeing it this early—mushroom hunters thick in the woods last Sunday reminded us of the first day of pheasant season last fall—and Harley Reichenbach who farms for Steiner Sisters north west of town topped the list with 171 luscious spring mushrooms in one day last w’eek. Even tho it arrives a month late, the Bluffton News is more than wel come at her mission station in French West Africa, writes Cather ine Gratz who says that it is read "from cover to cover—and then I read it all over again.” The Bluff ton missionary is located in the in terior of Africa not far from the fabled Timbuctoo region. She is ex- see pected home this summer on a fur lough. That crack-down on traffic vio lators which Marshal Lee Coon says is coming this spring will not be confined to motorists—but it will in clude youngsters who dash across the street when traffic has the green light. Green light crashing by youths is just as dangerous as red light crashing by motorists. Don’t know just what the penalty will be in case of the youngsters but a ses sion in the woodshed with a good birch rod might not be amiss. Prospects for Bluffton’s postwar airport dimmed this week with an nouncement of a proposal for a fed eral appropriation of $31 million for 250 airports in Ohio, but Bluffton was not included in the list. Places in this area included in the proposal are Lima, Delphos, Ada, Findlay, Wapakoneta, St. Marys, Kenton, Bowling Green and Bellefontaine. If you go west this summer, we’ll wager that you will enjoy a fine chicken dinner if you drop in on Noah N. Basinger, former Orange township resident who is on a chick en ranch near Tucson, Arizona. They have 3,000 chickens now and expect to have between 5,000 and 7,000 by June. Do fish bite better in clear, fair weather or cloudy and unsettled Weather. Since fishing has developed into a major outdoor sport here the question has assumed proportions of vital importance among local anglers. There have always been opinions on both sides—however now we learn that some of the boys are taking up the matter from a scientific point of view and are making an investigation and collecting data on the subject of whether fish bite better when the barometer is rising or falling. If we get any definite information later we’ll let you know. Comes word from J. J. "Jake” Makely of Columbia, Mo., former Blufftonite and erstwhile pillar in the Odd Fellow lodge when it was flour ishing here some fifty years ago. Jake is still on the job every day in Columbia’s Ford garage on way, and if any oldtimers that way this summer he glad to see you. Broad out be get will C. And word comes from “Arch” Griffith of Madison, West Virginia, another former Bluffton man that his son, Arch Jr., was re- 45 MEN WANTED The urgent need of truck tire? and tubes by our armed forces is on the increa Industry must produce a stil tity of truck tires and tubes. Truck tires and tubes hav/ a also a high manpower priority, essential If you are not now engaged in essential war work come in and talk if over with our Per sonnel Man, Mr. Capell. Cooper Corporation Find! ALL HIRING THROUGH U. S. E. S. Practise Typing a pci Standard Size 8.1-2 11 Inches cots. (No Broken Packages) Eluffton Ncuj PAGE SEVEN cently graduated from the San An gelo, Texas, Army Air Forces Bom bardier-Navigator school and is now commissioned a second lieutenant and expecting assignment soon. Mrs. Elizabeth Schoumatoff, the artist who was sketching President Roosevelt when he was stricken fat ally last Thursday lives in Locust Valley, N. Y., which is also the home town of Mrs. Alan Wolfe, the form er Grace Radebaugh of Bluffton. Mrs. Schoumatoff, a well known ar tist, had sketched the President on several previous occasions. She is a native of Russia and came to the United States in 1917 with her hus band Leo Schoumatoff who was sent to Washington as a representative of the Kerensky Government. Her brother, Andrei Avinoff is curator of the Carnegie Museum at Pittsburgh. Coincident with the drive for clothing for war torn areas, the Ohio Cutting room on the College campus operated by volunteers from four Mennonite churches in this district is becoming increasingly busy. On Monday a force of 25 women cut 1,200 yards of material into child ren’s clothing and men’s shirts for foreign relief. These garments, after being cut out are sent to societies of various Mennonite churches thru the Middle West for sewing. Also here was a delegation of women from Archbold with 100 yards of material to be cut for sewing by their society. Both in Uncle Sam’s Navy, James Gratz, watertender third class, son of Mr. and Mrs. Leonard Gratz met his uncle Hershel Moser, seaman first class in an unidentified port in the South Pacific area, according to word received here. On different ships located for some time in that area, the two navy men had ex changed greetings on several occa sions but never had an opportunity of meeting until both ships were in port at the same time. Preserves Crispness A saucer placed upside down in a salad bowl will keep the greens from getting saturated with dress ing and becoming soggy. The ex cess dressing will accumulate under the saucer and will not affect the crispness of the salad, even if it stands for some time. Tfa/eMOMf’ greater quan high priority, and are very WAR I [BONDS I