The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1945-03-16
CHAPTER XVIII

So Johnny glided to the field with
his missing engine, and then we
heard him say that he couldn't make
the field and was going to sit down
in the river. The moon made 1t
fairly bright, but even at that I knew
that Johnny had to be mighty good
and very lucky. Then I wondered
whether or not he was wounded.
Silhouetted against the light from
the three bombers he had shot down,
his fighter looked awfilly low. He
skinned over the Chinese junks on
the river, and I saw the splash as
the P-40, with its wheels up, hit the
Slang Kiang. Down on the ground
they heard his engine give one more
dying gasp, as with surge of power
probably from full gun and prop
in low pitch-it lifted him over the
last of the masts of the junks and
let him level off to skid across the
surface of the river.
We came in and landed now, for
the ground crew had gotten the
smudge-pot boundary lights set out
to mark the runway as well as the
bomb craters. We gathered togeth-
er fast with the boys who had stayed
on the ground, and talked about the
great battle. l remember Tex Hill
shaking his head and saying, "I'm
afraid Johnny didn't make it. Dog
gone, he was a good boy" We all
felt sinking in our hearts. We
waited and we kind of prayed too.
sent Captain Wang, our salvage
man, out to see if he could get any
news of Major Alison. We made our
reports out and kept waiting on the
alert. Just when we had really
given up hope, we heard the sound
of sharp explosions. All of us ran
out of the alert shack, to see the
strangest sight that we ever saw,
even in China.
A procession had entered the field.
The Chinese sentry had passed the
crowd of people and was himself
holding his thumb in the air calling
"Ding-hao-ding-hao." In the midst
of the procession and surrounded by
children shooting Chinese firecrack-
ers in celebration, was sedan chair
carried on the backs of the villagers
of Hengyang. And Johnny Alison
was in the sedan chair-smiling.
Joanny Alison had a couple Of
burns on his hands and legs where
soras bits of the Japs' explosive bull
let's had hit him. He'd been slightly
cut on the forehead when, on land
ing in the river, his head had hit
the heavy metal of the gun-sight.
But the scar that would leave would
be a common one after the war, for
every fighter pilot flies along with
his head just inches behind that
hunk Of steel that contains the lights
and prisms of the modern gun
sights. Just the slightest accident
and it Is out there to split your head.
/ asked Johnny why in hell he
went SO close to the bomber forma-
ton, and he grinned and said, 81
was scared I'd miss one of them"
Our salvage crew worked and
worked at the job of raising the P-40
from the bottom of the Siang-Kiang.
But with the fourteen-foot depth and
the swift current, they had more
than modern engineering with the
limitations of our floating equipment
could accomplish. Under Captain
Wang Chinese-American and in our
Army-they fioated barges out to
the spot and tried to tow it ashore
with lines. Then they lowered steel
drums, tied them to the ship, tried
to pump the water from the SUBJ
merged drums and thus float the
P-40-but everything failed.
During all the work of the Amer
leans with windlass and block-and-
tackle, the Chinese villagers, who
had offered their services long be-
fore, smiled and stood by. We asked
ourselves: What in hell could the
Chinese coolies and rivermen do if
we, with our general knowledge and
advanced civilization, couldn't raise
the ship? We went on and failed
for three days, and then to the per-
sistent Chinese we said, "Okay, 90
ahead"
We watched them float raft after
raft of long thick bamboo poles to
the buoy that now marked the SPOT
where Johnny's fighter had sunk.
Mentally we set down the raising
of the ship as impossible and got
ready to mark it off the list. But
the Chinese went on cheerfully with
their work. saw them pull them
selves down into the river with
ropes tied to the fighter, taking with
them an eighteen-foot length of bann-
200. They would slide this under
the wing of the ship and lash it into
place with grass rope Hundreds of
times they did this, until perfect
mat of bamboo was under the entire
wing of the little P-40. Then they
dashed the mat to the fuselage and
started another row under the wing.
Through it all we smiled at the vast
ed effort, and I heard men say, ooh
well. there are lots of Chinese any.
way Let them work."
But towards the second days