Evening star., 1942-02-12
BY DANIEL DE LUCE,

BY DANIEL DE LUCE,
Associated Press War Correspondent.
AN ADVANCED BRITISH AIR
BASE IN BURMA. Feb. IL de-
layed Young bomber crews and
fighter pilots from the British EN-
pire and the United States have
been sent into action together as
aerial artillery and cavalry with
wings to help hold the jungle front
where the spectacular battle for
Burma Is under way.
I rode with them today and wit
messed from a Blenheim bomber a
typical daylight attack escorted by
British Hurricanes and American
Tomahawk fighters.
This morning this same squadron
attacked the japanese headquarters
at Paan, on the east bank of the
Salween River north of Moulmein
and Martaban. starting three fires
This afternoon it was expected
that Paan would be rsided again,
but just before the squadron took
OF from the Simmering heat and
dust of converted Burmese paddy
field instructions came to relieve
japanese pressure farther down the
river
Airmen Talk Of Singapore.
We were not informed of the
reason, but could guess. Eleven
days ago had squatted near Dogrs
Indian machine gunners who were
staving of persistent japanese at
tempts to ferry troops from Moul-
mein across the broad lower reach
es Of the Salween to Martabsn.
However, back in the thatched
mess hut. over q snack of crackers
cheese, canned salmon and luke
warm beer, the youthful airmen OF
the squadron-men from every
British dominion across the seas
had talked not of the battle for
Burma, but Of the fight for Singa-
pore.
They talked dispassionately Of its
chances. as if they were discussing
a tennis match. They regard most
Of life dispassionately, these young
men who have gone up on offensive
flights daily, week after week.
Now at take-off time l squash
back into the navigator's seat so my
parachute kit. long arms and size IL
shoes will not foul the intricate con-
trolls in the tight Blenheim cockpit.
I hold the lanky, .blondmus-
tached New Zealand navigator-ob
server -bombard dier on my lap in the
crowded cockpit as we make the
noisy start up the graveled runway.
Blizzard Of Sound.
am right behind the elbow of
the South African captain pilot.
who bears a boyish resemblance to
DR.. Dafoe.
The Blenheim, paint peeling from
its radial engine cowling and pro-
peller shaft dark with rust like that
of a tramp steamer, bumps thrice
and then shoots upward into the
climb while the motor 4 feet from
my right ear creates a blizzard of
sound.
As nat as Holland and demarcated
only by low ridge lines, like a map,
the rice fields of the Rangoon
delta spread below our green and
khaki camouf1aged wings as Sergt.
''Brooky" of Auckland, New Zea-
land, goes forward to his desk and
bombsight in the transparent, plas-
tic covered nose
Sergt. Jack" of Melbourne. Aus
tralia. sits alone in his rear gun
turret with only the dangling cord
Of his earphones visible about IL feet
back In the fusilage
We are in shirtsleeves and khaki
shorts and the sweat trickles down
our necks from under our helmets.
We follow oxbow creeks on which
natives pole their tiny sampans and
We see dozens of little temple spires.
bullock cartS-and
then Rangoon itself with its green
fringed lakes and the great golden
bulb of lofty Shwe Dagon pagoda.
Now our flying escort appears
six TomahawkS with the white
spiked sun of the Chinese Air Force
on their wings, keeping "V" forma-
ton, and passing ABOUT 200 feet
over us-cn time to q second for
the rendezvous
Over Moulmein.
am not sure which of the Amer
lean volunteers are up this after
noon, but they probably include
Squadron Leader Bob Neale of
Gil Bright of Reading. Pa;
H. M. Geselbracht of Glendale.
Calf, and Bob Little of Spokane.
Soon we are over Moulmein prop
er, cruising slowly and methodically
with public buildings, squares,
churches and temples about a quar-
ter mile below-so near we can pick
out the broken windows and the
empty carts at the curbs. There Is not
\ sign Of life-not even a stray dog.
The river jetties are almost de-
serted. Only three craft of row.
BOAT size are tied up there.
The enemy is known to have
,lenty Of machine guns here and our
Blenheim isn't too difncult target
rom the warehouse roofs.
Suddenly there is q thudding
noise like some one kicking the bot
,om of the fuselage.
We r,eel M to tie leff n, q diva