The Bluffton news. [volume] (Bluffton, Ohio) 1875-current, 1945-03-01


desperately wanted to slide in be-
hind one of those enemy bombers
or fighters and shoot him down.
Finally I had my chance to tell
the story Of my ambitions &c Gen.
eral Chennault. Busy as he was, he
listened to my case, and even as |
talked I admired the great man
more and more. Here, knew, was
a great officer and leader as well as
a great pilot. Here was an Amer
ican who was a General in the Chi
nese Army, held by the Chinese in
admiration and respect-a soldier
who could see the problems that his
modern war imposed on land armies
as well as on navies and air power.
Here, knew, was genius.
I told the General that I wanted
one single P-40 to use in India and
Burma. I knew they were scarce,
but I would promise him that noth-
ing would happen to it, and the in
slant he needed the ship would fly
1t back to him in China. The Gen.
eral smiled. I'm sure he was think
ing back and wondering whether,
if he were in my position, he
wouldn't have begged for the same
chance. He didn't give me some
excuse that he well might have
used-that the P-40's belonged to the
Chinese Government, that it would
have been against regulations, and
so forth. General Chennault knew
that I would use that shark" as
we called the P-40's, against the
Japs. He made his own regula-
tions then; what did it matter who
killed the Japs and who used the
P-40's so long as they were being
used for China?
BY the twinkle in his eyes I knew
that ! had won my case. The Gen.
eral said, Some Forties are on the
way from Africa now. You take the
next one that comes through. Use it
as long as you want to- That's the
way I got the single fighter plane
that was to work out of Assam.
With anxious eyes ] waited, look
ing to the West for the next sharks"
to come to India
Three P-40E's or Kittyhawks came
to us from Africa on April 29. Two
went on to Running for the AVG,
but Number 4l-1496 stayed with me.
It was mine, and / was as proud of
1t as of the first bicycle my father
had given me. All through the night
read the technical files and learned
every little item about the Allison
engine and the engine controls.
memorized the armament section of
the book, and by morning was
ready to put theory into practice and
test it out.
That morning ! found a painter.
Buying red and white paint from the
village, had him paint the shark
mouth on the lower nose of the Cur
tiss Kittyhawk. On that afternoon
of April 80, I remember that as
waited for the paint to dry I
walked round and round my ship,
admiring the graceful lines, a feel
ing of pride in my heart. I gloried
in the slender fuselage, in the knife
like edges of the little wings. The
sharp nose of the spinner looked like
an arrow to me-the nose that
sloped back to the leering shark $
mouth. At sight of the wicked-look-
ing blast tubes of the six fifty-calibre
guns in the wings, / felt my chest
expand another inch. This was
shark-nosed dynamite, all right-but
even then I did not quite realize
what weapon this fighter ship could
be when properly handled.
I don't know how long | walked
around the fighter admiring it and
caressing its wicked-looking body. I
know the paint on the sharks mouth
hadn't dried yet-but I'd held the
suspense as long as ! could. This
was as if ! were rolling old sherry
around on my tongue; sometime !
had to really taste it. Now, step
ping on the walkway of the left wing,
threw first one leg and then the
other over the side of the fuselage
and slid into the little cockpit of the
fighter. As ! adjusted the rudder
pedals and fastened my safety belt,
! primed the engine a few shots.
Turning on the toggle switches, I
energized and engaged the starter
with my foot, and now I heard the
Allison break into steady roar as
/ moved the mixture control from
idle cutoff" Out in front of me-a
long distance, it seemed-the heavy,
eleven-foot, three-bladed prop be-
came gray blur in my vision. An
Allison, or any high-powered engine,
doesn't have to warm up, and idling
will soon foul the plugs. was taxy-
ing almost as soon as the engine
settled down to the steady roar.
Very proudly ! TAXED out for my
first take-off in the new Kittyhawk.
All around me on the airdrome I
could feel the jealous eyes of every
American and British pilot, even
those of the earth-bound coolies-or
at least my ego thought it felt their
looks.
During the test fight over the
dark green acres of Assam tea gar
dens, sweeping low over the Brah-
maputra and then climbing steeply
for the Naga Hills, l contemplated
with keen anticipation the wonderful
days that lay ahead. Here was no
defenseless transport, no numbering
and unwieldy four-engine bomber
here was fighting weapon, with a
heart and soul like the other COM
bat ships. But more than that, here
was an instrument of war with a
distinct individuality, a tempera-
mental devil of the skies. Truly like
a beautiful woman, it went smoothly
and sweetly at times; and then, as
Sraaad ixacronrnd L. x,.sxxn4