Evening star., 1942-06-05
By DANIEL DE LUCE,
Wide World.

AN ALLIED AIR BASE IN
INDIA, May % Delayed.-Daily
through fair weather and foul
r. A. F. fighters and bombers are
smashing at the salvaged steamers
and crude bamboo RATS which bring
Japanese troops and equipment up
the winding, muddy waters OF the
Chindwin River, where the Naga
foothills range along the border OF
Burma and Assam, India's eastern
most province.
In the northern tip of Assam, 100
miles bomber flight from the head
waters of the Chindwin, lies one OF
India's two most important oil fields.
There, too. runs the Brahmaputra,
great waterway which joins the
Ranges in the Bengal plain and
surges on to the sea through scores
of mouths near Calcutta.
Today I flew more than 1900
miles. more than eight hours, with
one of the Blenheim bomber crews
engaged in the r. A. F.'s campaign
to smash the japanese outposts
along the palm shaded Chindwin.
Our Blenheim was assigned a
300-mile sweep inside enemy terri
tory, including 18O miles of low-level
reconnaissance attack on the upper
Chindwin route.
Ordered to Bomb Yu River
Soon after dawn 1 stood with ne
crew around a map in this air b, SC
while an army liaison officer plotted
our objectiveS. He gave instructions
for bombing of the Yu River just
west of the ChindWin.
In the tropical heat, wringing wet
with perspiration, my pilot, stocky,
mustached Squadron Leader Eric
from Kent, Navigator Pilot Officer
Dickey, also from England, and Air
Gunner Sergt. Paddy from Ballarat,
Australia, waited as mechanics re-
placed shredded tire on the Blen-
helms tail wheel.
Wearing a borrowed parachute
and helmet, climbed into the cock
pit and took seat by Eric.
We sliced through the mist that
curtained the fiat, patch-quilt In
dian farms from view. The wind
streamed in the half-opened window
on the pilots left. Eric closed the
window with one hand and trimmed
the ship with the other.
Our sweaty shirts became frigid.
Knees left bare by shorts turned
blue. In the midst of his naviga-
tional computations Dicky draped
his shoulders with a bath towel to
keep warm.
Our Blenheim climbed higher.
betting through cloud banks and
game as an old firehorse for more
alarms. In Asia the Blenheims still
have a big job to do. Ours saw duty
in the battle of Britain and the bat
tie of Burma and still carries on.
We sighted a formation of United
States Army bombers below the star
board wing, also Burma bound Eric
and Dickey exchanged signals
thumbs up.
Machine Guns Checked.
Then 1t was time to check the
machine guns fore and aft.
Dickey fired the couple which
slant to the rear from under the
cockpit where they guard the Blen-
helms belly. Paddy blazed away
from his turret. Eric pressed the
firing button on the joystick. All
were okay.
Ice formed on our wings and the
mist blotted out the sun and earth.
One engine started to miss.
There in the crowded cockpit we
experienced the airmen's nightmare
engine failure. The little needle
on the revolutions per minute
gauge pointed to 1000, then 1900.
1000. 1t continued to falter; 1900
revolutions and dropping fast.
Dicky peered at Eric and me and
forced wry grin.
With one engine left, Eric
couldn't make the Chindwin Valley
ahead of us but would have to run
back to Assam, out of enemy coun-