Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1943-01-16
BY LIT. JAMES C. WHITAKER
.. s. Army Ar Force transport Commaf
As Told to Charles Leavelle.


AS a coppery sun shot into the sky
on our sixth day adrift we al
began to realize the extreme gravity
of our situation. 1t has been almost
100 hours since we had set our
Flying Fortress into the sea out OF
fuel after a take-of accident at
Hickam Field, Honolulu, had dam
aged our octant and sent us miles
off our course,
In that time we each had eaten
about half an orange, a piece OF
raw fish an inch square, and three
minnows. The strain was telling, ]
/ noted as I glanced along the three
! rubber RATS that stood between us
end the depths of the equatorial
Pacific.
Capt Eddie Rickenbacker, whom
we had been carrying on War De-
partment mission at the time of the
accident, appeared the most COM
posed
His military aide, Col. Hans
Adamson, looked depressed and sick.
| Their raft companion, Pvt. Johnny
| Bartek, engineer on the plane,
I looked pretty good. In the smallest
raft, 1t. John J. De Angels, our
navigator, and Sergt, Alex Kazy-
marzyk, a passenger, were huddled
miserably together. Alex looked bad.
He had been As days in the hospital
with yellow jaundice just before the
start of the trip.
Felt Baked Out"
In ours, the lead raft, Capt. Will
liam It. Cherry, our pilot and COM
mander, looked drawn beneath his
heavy stubble. Staff Sergt. James
w. Reynolds, who had sent sos
calls almost until our plane hit the
water, appeared pretty well pre-
served. My thoughts were somber
as I observed the day would be
another scorcher.
MY reaction to lack Of water was
not so much thirst as dryness. 1t
/ seemed as though all the water in me
/ had been baked out. The wet trunks
| about my head and shoulders
| helped some, but salt water Stings
and burns. You don't just want to
drink fresh water. You want to
wallow in it. You feel you could
soak it up by gallons through the
/ pores.
1t was obvious we were out OF the
way of either patrol planes or ships;
in one of those cul de sacs OF the
| Pacific that may go years without
! hi
, hopes stirred within me at last
nights PRAYER service had vanished
in the face of what I was fond OF
calling hard reality" Yet l joined
| passively in that nights service after
an agonizing day. And in few min
utes something happened that made
me wonder greatly.
Col. Adamson read from Johnny
Bartek's pocket Testament and we
all prayed for food. Capt. Cherry
repeated his favorite text about food
and drink being provided on the
morrow. Always tomorrow
thought bitterly. What is this; a
come-on game?" But Capt. Cherry
was praying. The sturdy Texan al
ways addressed the Lord, with a
strange difference, as old Master"
When Chips Are Down.
old Master" he was saying, I'VE
know this isn't guarantee that
we'll eat IN the morning. But we're
in an awful fix, as you know. We
sure are counting on a little some
thing by day after tomorrow al least
See what you can Go for US, Old
Master
That is the way we all talked tc
God: just as we would talk TO any
one we respected and from whom we
craved a boon. We made it simple
no "theeS" or "thous." There was
nothing irreverant or kidding about
it. Men don't kid when the chips
are down.
Capt, Cherry finished his talk tc
God and fired of our evening fare
in the hope something might hap.
pen. And it certainly did, though
not anything we could have forecast
The flares propulsion charge wa
faulty and the flaming ball rose only
so feet into the air, then fell bach
among the RATS.
1t Kissed and zlgzagged arount
, the water blazing a brlllisn red
One contact with a raft airchambel
would have meant the finish O.
somebody. The dazzling light H.
Illuminated the ocean for hundred.
of yards and in the depths we coulc
see barracuda playing havoc witt
school of fish attracted by thu
, glare.
Two Leap Into Raft.
Two fair sized specimens. pursued
by the barracuda, broke water anc
leaped into our raft. We had JUS
time to grab them when the fare
sputtered and died. The moor
came out and shed a ehostly light
on the ocean. Fish were for break.
fast but l was too puzzled to sleep
Though our seventh day opened
with fish tidbits. our thirst rageo
on and our mental state grew lower
Col. Adamson's more than the 9th.
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