WINTER 2014 - Volume 61, Number 4 … · The Air Force Historical Foundation Founded on May 27,...

WINTER 2014 - Volume 61, Number 4WWW.AFHISTORICALFOUNDATION.ORG

The Air ForceHistorical Foundation

Founded on May 27, 1953 by Gen Carl A. “Tooey” Spaatz and other air power pioneers, the Air Force Historical Foundation (AFHF) is a nonprofi t tax exempt organization. It is dedicated to the preservation, perpetuation and appropriate publication of the history and traditions of American aviation, with emphasis on the U.S. Air Force, its predecessor organizations, and the men and women whose lives and dreams were devoted to fl ight. The Foundation serves all components of the United States Air Force— Active, Reserve and Air National Guard.

AFHF strives to make available to the public and today’s government planners and decision makers information that is relevant and informative about all aspects of air and space power. By doing so, the Foundation hopes to assure the nation profi ts from past experiences as it helps keep the U.S. Air Force the most modern and effective military force in the world.

The Foundation’s four primary activities include a quarterly journal Air Power History, a book program, a biennial symposium, and an awards program.

MEMBERSHIP BENEFITSAll members receive our exciting and informative Air Power History Journal, either electronically or on paper, covering all aspects of aerospace history:

• Chronicles the great campaigns and the great leaders

• Eyewitness accounts and historical articles

• In depth resources to museums and activities, to keep members connected to the latest and greatest events.

Preserve the legacy, stay connected:

• Membership helps preserve the legacy of current and future US air force personnel.

• Provides reliable and accurate accounts of historical events.

• Establish connections between generations.

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Departments

Book Reviews

Features Major Ralph Royce and the First Pursuit Group’s 1930 Arctic PatrolExerciseDavid K. Vaughan

“Bar Napkin” Tactics, Combat Tactical Leadership In Southeast AsiaDarrel D. Whitcomb

Arctic Linchpin:The Polar Concept in American Air Atomic Strategy, 1946-48John T. Farquhar

The Arsenal of Democracy: FDR, Detroit, and an Epic Quest to Arm an America at WarBy A.J. Baime Review by Joseph Romito

Quieting the Boom: The Shaped Sonic Boom Demonstrator and the Quest for Quiet Supersonic FlightBy Lawrence Benson Review by Daniel J. Simonsen

Nimrod: Rise and FallBy Tony Blackman Review by Robin Higham

JG26: Top Guns of the LuftwaffeBy Donald Caldwell Review by Kenneth D. Werrell

The Goldsboro Broken ArrowBy Joel Dobson Review by Al Mongeon

The Shelburne Escape Line: Secret Rescues of Allied Aviators by the French Underground, The BritishRoyal Navy, and London’s MI-9

By Reanne Hemingway-Douglass & Don DouglassReview by Steven AgoratusMcNamara, Clifford, and the Burdens of Vietnam, 1965-1969

By Edward J. Drea Review by Joe McCueInvasion Rabaul: The Epic Story of Lark Force, the Forgotten Garrison, January-July 1942

By Bruce Gamble Review by Steven D. EllisFour-War Boer: The Century and Life of Pieter Arnoldus Krueler

By Colin D. Heaton & Anne-Marie Lewis Review by Henry ZeybelThe Next War in the Air: Britain’s Fear of the Bomber 1908-1941

By Brett Holman Review by Arnold D. HarveyThe Earhart Enigma: Retracing Amelia’s Last Flight

By Dave Horner Review by Scott MarquissWhy Mars: NASA and the Politics of Space Exploration

By W. Henry Lambright Review by Rick W. SturdevantAlexander P. de Seversky and the Quest for Air Power

By James K. Libbey Review by Steven D. EllisSelma to Saigon: The Civil Rights Movement and the Vietnam War

By Daniel S. Lucks Review by Rick W. StrudevantShifting Sands: Air Coercion and Iraq, 1991-2003

By J. R. McKay Review by John F. O’ConnellThe First Eagles: The Fearless American Aces Who Flew with the RAF in World War I

By Gavin Mortimer Review by Henry ZeybelThe Crash of Little Eva: The Ultimate World War II Survivor Story

By Barry Ralph Review by Steven AgoratusAllied Master Strategists: The Combined Chiefs of Staff in World War II

By David Rigby Review by Steven D. EllisRed Devils Over the Yalu

By Igor Seidov, Stuart Britton ed. & trans. Review by Douglas C. DildyUnsung Eagles: True Stories of America’s Citizen Airmen in the Skies of World War II

By Jay A. Stout Review by Steven AgoratusArea 51 Black Jets: A History of the Aircraft Developed at Groom Lake, America’s Secret Aviation Base

By Bill Yenne Review by Buz Carpenter

Books ReceivedUpcoming Events and ReunionsNotices, In Memoriam, Foundation Awards, and History Mystery

COVER: An A–1E Skyraider in Vietnam.

2 AIR POWER History / WINTER 2014

Board of Directors

Maj Gen Dale W. Meyerrose, USAF (Ret.)Chairman

Maj Gen Kenneth M. DeCuir, USAF (Ret.)1st Vice Chairman

Lt Gen Charles L. Johnson II, USAF (Ret.)2d Vice Chairman

Lt Gen Christopher Miller, USAF (Ret.)Secretary

CMSgt John R. McCauslin, USAF (Ret.)Treasurer

Col William J. Dalecky, USAF (Ret.)Lt Col Steven Gress, Jr., USAF (Ret.)Ms. Jonna Doolittle HoppesCol Thomas Owens, USAF (Ret.)Mr. Daniel R. Sitterly, USAF SES Maj Willard Strandberg, Jr. USAF (Ret.)Lt Gen Stephen G. Wood, USAF (Ret.)

Editor, Air Power HistoryJacob Neufeld

StaffLt Col James A. Vertenten, USAF (Ret.)

Secretary to the Board and Executive Director

Mrs. Angela J. Bear, Office Manager

Patron Members

Col Dennis M. Drew, USAF (Ret.)Dr. Jerome V. MartinMr. John L. McIverLt Gen George D. Miller, USAF (Ret.)Col Bobby Moorhatch, USAF (Ret.)Col J Calvin ShahbazLt Col Raymond C. Tagge, USAF (Ret.)

Benefactor

Lt Col Steven L. Diehl, USAFCol Wray Johnson, USAF (Ret)

President’s Circle

Col William J. Dalecky, USAF (Ret)Maj Gen Charles J. Dunlap, Jr., USAF

CORPORATE SPONSORS

Gold Level ($10,000 or more)Lockheed Martin Corporation

The Journal of theAir Force Historical FoundationWinter 2014 Volume 61 Number 4

EditorJacob Neufeld

Asst. Editor, Layout and DesignRichard I. Wolf

Technical EditorRobert F. Dorr

Book Review EditorScott A. Willey

AdvertisingJim Vertenten

CirculationAngela J. Bear

Air Power History (ISSN 1044-016X) is pro-duced for Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter bythe Air Force Historical Foun dation.

Prospective contributors should consult theGUIDELINES FOR CONTRIBUTORS atthe back of this journal. Unsolicited manu-scripts will be returned only on specificrequest. The Editor cannot accept responsibil-ity for any damage to or loss of the manu-script. The Editor reserves the right to editmanuscripts and letters.

Address LETTERS TO THE EDITOR to:

Air Power History11908 Gainsborough Rd.Potomac, MD 20854e-mail: [email protected]

Correspondence regarding missed issues orchanges of address should be addressed tothe CIRCULATION OFFICE:

Air Power HistoryP.O. Box 790Clinton, MD 20735-0790(301) 736-1959e-mail: [email protected]

ADVERTISING

Jim VertentenP.O. Box 790Clinton, MD 20735-0790(301) 736-1959e-mail: [email protected]

Copyright © 2014 by the Air Force HistoricalFoundation. All rights reserved.Periodicals postage paid at Clinton, MD20735 and additional mailing offices.

Postmaster: Please send change of addressto the Circulation Office.

The Air Force Historical Foundation

Air Force Historical FoundationP.O. Box 790

Clinton, MD 20735-0790(301) 736-1959

E-mail: [email protected] the Web at http://www.afhistoricalfoundation.org

3AIR POWER History / WINTER 2014

There comes a time in everyone’s life when he must make a difficult choice. I have arrived at thispoint. Ironically, last year when I was asked how much longer I was going to edit Air Power History,I replied, “As long as it’s fun to do.” What I didn’t realize was how difficult it would become to balanceediting and Parkinson’s. I would have loved to go on as a full-time editor, but that’s just not possible.The most I can do is to be an editor emeritus.

I have edited this journal since the fall of 1993 and was afflicted with Parkinson’s in 1999. A pret-ty good run, all things considered. I am sorry to see Bob Dorr also ending his popular “HistoryMystery,” but I know Richard Wolf will do a great job as my successor, and Scott Willey will continueproducing superior book reviews.

The leadership is in very good hands, under General Dale Meyerrose, executive director JimVertenten, and Mrs. Angela Bear, our fine office manager. The Board of Directors is as talented andaccomplished as one is likely to find anywhere.

In this issue, we begin with David Vaughan’s tale of “Major Ralph Royce and the First PursuitGroup’s 1930 Arctic Patrol Exercises,” which awarded the participants the McKay Trophy and helpedprepare the Army flyers for World War II.

“Bar NapkinTactics: Combat Tactical Leadership in Southeast Asia,” by Darrel Whitcomb tells ofthe refinements to search and rescue in the Vietnam War.

John Farquhar concludes the issue with his account “Arctic Linchpin: The Polar Concept inAmerican Air Atomic Strategy, 1946-1948,” where he details the significance of the North PolarRegion in U.S. Cold War strategy (no pun intended.)

Scott Willey has come up with more than twenty new book reviews. Bob Dorr completes his finalHistory Mystery. Rob Bardua and George Cully have compiled the latest reunions and symposia.Don’t miss the photos of the Doolittle Award ceremonies and Foundation Award banquet on pages 62and 63. There are also a few other departments and, sadly, obituaries.

As the heir to a fine tradition, I accept the baton passed by Jack Neufeld. I accompanied Jack on thestart of this voyage in 1993, and together over twenty-one years, we have produced the best productwe could. Going it alone is a daunting task. Fortunately, Jack has agreed to be our emeritus editor, sohis opinions are a phone call away. I hope that all our readers will join me in wishing Jack well, andthat they will stay with us as we transition to a new editorial era. This is a most challenging envi-ronment in which to publish a magazine, and we shall strive to keep it relevant in the new electron-ics-heavy marketplace. Keep submitting those great articles and top-notch book reviews. I look for-ward to working directly with all of you.

From the Editor

Air Power History and the Air Force Historical Foundation disclaim responsibility for statements,either of fact or of opinion, made by contributors. The submission of an article, book review, or othercommunication with the intention that it be published in this journal shall be construed as prima facieevidence that the contributor willingly transfers the copyright to Air Power History and the Air ForceHistorical Foundation, which will, however, freely grant authors the right to reprint their own works,if published in the authors’ own works.

Call For PapersViolent Skies: The Air War Over VietnamA Symposium Proposed for October 2015

Four military service historical foundations—the Air Force Historical Foundation, the ArmyHistorical Foundation, the Marine Corps Heritage Foundation, and the Naval HistoricalFoundation—recognize that a half century has passed since the United States became militarilyengaged in Southeast Asia, and hope to sponsor a series of conferences involving scholars and vet-erans, aimed at exploring aspects and consequences of what once was known as America’s LongestWar.

For the first conference in the series, since all military services employed their combat aircraftcapabilities in that conflict, the leaders of the four nonprofit organizations agree that the air warover Southeast Asia offers a compelling joint topic for reflective examination and discussion. Theintent is to host a symposium on this subject in the national capital region on Thursday and Friday,October 15 and 16, 2015, potentially extending into Saturday, October 17. Other stakeholder orga-nizations will be approached to join as co-sponsors of this event.

The organizers of the symposium envision plenary and concurrent sessions to accommodate awide variety of topics and issues. Panel participants will be allotted 20 minutes to present theirresearch or discuss their experiences. A panel chair will be assigned to provide commentary andmoderate discussion. Commenters from academia, veterans, Vietnamese émigrés, and scholars fromthe region may be invited to provide additional insights.

Panel/Paper proposals may employ both chronological and topical approaches: Examples ofchronological subjects can include: U.S. air support in the early years; The Gulf of Tonkin Resolutionand American escalation; the Rolling Thunder campaign; Tet and its aftermath; concluding combatoperations to include aerial mining and Linebacker operations; and evacuation operations in 1975.

Topical proposals could include political and military leadership and decision making; recogni-tion of individual service and sacrifice; joint service coordination; organizational command infra-structures; the rules of engagement; aircraft and armament capabilities; close air support; air mobil-ity; airlift and logistical support; search and rescue; aeromedical evacuation; air-to-air combat; airdefense challenges; air interdiction efforts; the prisoner of war experience; media coverage and pub-lic opinion; basing at sea and on land; training and advisory missions; air reconnaissance and intel-ligence operations; South Vietnamese/allied nation/ other organizations (eg. CIA) air operations; eth-ical and legal considerations; and environmental impact.

Those proposing a symposium presentation shall submit a 250 to 400 word paper abstract anda curriculum vitae /or short autobiography to Dr. David F. Winkler of the Naval HistoricalFoundation ([email protected]) not later than April 30, 2015. Panel proposals will be wel-comed with a panel objective statement added to the submission of paper abstracts and C.V./bios.

5AIR POWER History / WINTER 2014

From the President

Dear Members:

As always, let me thank you for the part each of you hasplayed in the history and legacy of air power across thedecades, and for your generous contributions to ourFoundation.

Since our last communication to you we presented theFoundation’s most esteemed awards on October 8th. On apicture-perfect afternoon at the Air Force Memorial, wegave the 19th Airlift Wing of Little Rock AFB the 2014Doolittle Award for its sustained superior record in multi-ple conflicts. Later that evening we presented GeneralLloyd “Fig” Newton, USAF (Ret), with the Spaatz Award,honoring him for his lifetime contribution to the making ofair power history. We also honored Colonel Walter J.Boyne, USAF (Ret) with our Holley Award for his lifetime contribution in documenting air powerand aviation history. Five of the original Tuskegee Airmen, a World War II Honor Flight fromcentral Missouri, and numerous other leaders and dignitaries graced the event. You can catchthe highlights and see pictures on the Foundation web site and on pages 62 and 63.

And speaking of the Foundation web site, we recently completed numerous upgrades to thismember service. The Book Review section in Air Power History, one of our most strongly praisedfeatures, has now been expanded on the website to include an up-to-date listing of books avail-able for review. If you are interested, please contact us to become a reviewer. Also added to thewebsite is a Wall of Memory feature, enabling all of us to recognize a comrade, loved one, orfriend with a donation to the Air Force Historical Foundation. Please check out these new fea-tures at: www.afhistoricalfoundation.org, where you can also read the Foundation’s full year-endsummary of 2014.

It is with great regret that we must say good bye to the longtime editor of our journal AirPower History, Mr. Jack Neufeld. Jack is retiring following the winter issue after 21 years in thisposition of leadership. No individual has been more responsible for the great reputation ourorganization enjoys today than Jack. Exemplary vision and painstaking devotion to his craft,coupled with great wisdom and humor made him truly one of a kind. We wish him good luck andGod speed!

As we conclude the year, we stand proud of our accomplishments, but remain very concernedabout our ability to survive for much longer as the Foundation continues to struggle financially.We have done much in recent years to increase our appeal and value proposition while control-ling expenses. In spite of these efforts, our Foundation remains in a tenuous situation. Not onlydo we need your continued financial support but your ideas as well in keeping our organizationrelevant and true to our mission. Our fervent bottom line: continue the tradition of the preserv-ing our legacy to educate future generations on the contributions of air power to our Nation.Failing to do so would mean that we won’t pass on the “torch of enthusiasm” for air power thatwe inherited from our founders and those who grew our Foundation—revered men like Spaatz,Vandenberg, Foulois, LeMay, Schriver, and Doolittle. Looking forward to your continued supportin the New Year as we need you more than ever.

On behalf of the Board and our staff—I wish you a happy holiday season, and a healthy andprosperous 2015!

Dale W. Meyerrose, Maj Gen, USAF (Ret)President and Chairman of the Board


Major Ralph Royce and theFirst Pursuit Group’s 1930Arctic Patrol Exercise

AIR POWER History / WINTER 2014 7

David K. Vaughan

D uring the Fall of 1929, the higher authoritiesof the United States Army Air Corps, fore-runner of the Army Air Forces and eventu-

ally of the United States Air Force, directed theFirst Pursuit Group to conduct a training exerciseto test the capability of its men and aircraft to oper-ate in cold winter weather. The squadrons assignedto conduct the exercise were those of the 1st PursuitGroup, at Selfridge Field, near Detroit, Michigan, atthat time under the command of Maj. Ralph Royce.The squadrons located at Selfridge included the94th Aero Squadron, the 27th Aero Squadron, the17th Aero Squadron (replacing the 147th AeroSquadron, which had been one of the originalsquadrons during World War I), and associated sup-port units assigned to the field. The 95th AeroSquadron, the fourth of the original squadrons inthe 1st Pursuit Group in France, had been assignedelsewhere after the end of the war.

These squadrons had been prominent in theAmerican war effort during World War I: the 94thhad been led by Capt. Eddie Rickenbacker, and hadclaimed the record of the most aircraft shot down byan American unit during the war. The 27th AeroSquadron had been the unit to which “BalloonBuster” Frank Luke had been assigned before hewas shot down and killed in a gun battle withGerman soldiers. And the 17th Aero Squadron(attached to the British forces for nearly all of itsoperational time in World War I) had accounted forfifty-three enemy aircraft destroyed during the war.While the cold weather test would not call for thepilots of the 1st Pursuit Group to fly against anyhuman opponents, they would face one of the tough-est forms of opposition, the forces of “King Boreas,”“Old Man Winter.”

The three squadrons of the 1st Pursuit Groupwere to fly from Selfridge Field to Spokane,Washington, and return, following routes close tothe border between the United States and Canada,during the first weeks of January 1930. The aircraftflown by the men of the First Pursuit Group was theCurtiss P–1C Hawk, the first models of which werebuilt in 1925. The Hawk was an open-cockpit, sin-gle-seat biplane powered by a 435 horsepower V-12liquid-cooled engine, capable of producing airspeedsof approximately 150 miles per hour, with a range ofapproximately 450 miles. These aircraft were light,with a total operational weight of just under 3,000pounds, and afforded the pilots relatively little pro-tection against the weather. To simulate combatconditions, all aircraft were fitted with two .30 cal-iber machine guns, mounted within the fuselagedirectly in front of the pilot.1

This challenging exercise called for the pilots ofthe 1st Pursuit Group to endure severe weatherconditions, for in the late 1920s, all single-seat AirCorps aircraft were open-cockpit aircraft, in whichthe pilots or other flying crew members wereexposed to the wind and weather, protected only bytheir aircraft windscreens and the layers of clothingthat they wore. Maj. Gen. Frank Parker, Com -mander of the Sixth Corps Area, stated that “thesemaneuvers are of great military importance in thatthey not only put pursuit tactics to the acid testunder extremely rigorous weather conditions, butalso afford a very broad opportunity for testing fly-ing equipment in zero temperatures.”2

Even though the aircraft engines generatedsome heat, almost none of that heat could be felt inthe open-air cockpits. To protect themselves fromthe cold, the pilots on the winter test flight worethick leather flying suits lined with fur, heavy insu-lated boots, insulated gloves, and fur-lined leatherhelmets. The pilots also wore knitted face maskswith openings for the eyes, which were covered bylight-weight flying goggles, which, as they unhap-pily discovered, easily frosted over in the frigidwind. Both flying suits and other flight gear hadbeen recently developed, and the test was designedto evaluate the effectiveness of the personal equip-ment in cold weather. Another aspect under evalua-tion was the performance of skis, which had beenplaced on the aircraft instead of the traditionalwheels, and which required the aircraft to land onfrozen lake surfaces or snow-covered fields.

The most important motivation for undertak-ing the “Arctic Patrol,” as it came to be called, may


David Vaughan is Professor Emeritus of the Air Force Institute of Technology, where he taught courses intechnical communication, military ethics, and the literature of the U. S. Air Force. He is a graduate of theUnited States Air Force Academy and flew a variety of training and cargo aircraft during his twenty-yearcareer in the U.S. Air Force. While serving in the Air Force, he received his MA from the University ofMichigan and his PhD from the University of Washington. After retiring from the Air Force, he taught atthe University of Maine for five years prior to joining the faculty of the Air Force Institute of Technology(AFIT), Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, Ohio. He was also head of the Business CommunicationProgram in the College of Commerce at Sultan Qaboos University for a five-year period in Muscat, Oman.He has published a number of articles and books in the area of aviation literature and history. He con-tinues to teach technical writing courses as an adjunct instructor at the Air Force Institute of Technology.

(Overleaf) Selfridge FieldHeadquarters, December23, 1929. (All photos cour-tesy of the author.)

The Curtiss P–1 Hawk innormal configuration.

AUTHORITIES… DIRECTEDTHE FIRSTPURSUITGROUP TOCONDUCT ATRAININGEXERCISE TOTEST THECAPABILITYOF ITS MENAND AIR-CRAFT TOOPERATE INCOLD WIN-TERWEATHER

have been the development of Prestone fluid as acoolant instead of water. Prestone® ethylene glycolwas advertised to provide anti-freeze protectionstrength according to specific water-productcombinations. It would not boil away or burn,maintained its liquid nature well below normal

freezing temperatures, and was comparativelyodorless. It was a more scientific mixture thanprevious ingredients, which had included suchunusual substances as honey, sugar, and molasses.Methyl alcohol had been tried previously as well butwas unsatisfactory. Prestone was first developed in1927 by the Union Carbide Corporation and was arelatively new product.3

Reginald Cleveland, aviation correspondent forthe New York Times, commented specifically on theimportance of the performance of this new anti-freezing ingredient for the aircraft that participatedin the Arctic Patrol; his comments appeared onJanuary 19, 1930, when the flight was approxi -mately halfway complete:

The flight, undertaken to test both men and materialon long cross-country hops under the most adverseconditions, is the first extended trial of the kind ofthe new chemical-cooling system of which the ArmyAir Corps has such high hopes. Some of the ships areequipped for Prestone cooling and in the others thisliquid has been added to the water [in the enginecoolant]. . . . Its performance under conditions of sub-zero temperatures is awaited with interest.4

The men and aircraft of the 1st Pursuit Grouphad been involved in midwinter cross-countryflights for a number of years. In the last week ofJanuary, 1927, for example, they had participated ina winter cross-country flight to Canada; in thisflight twelve pursuit aircraft and one transportaircraft had flown from Selfridge to Ottawa,Canada.5 During the previous winter, the pilots ofthe 1st Pursuit Group had been severely challengedby the winter weather in their efforts to find amissing person near Petoskey, Michigan, north ofTraverse City, Michigan, a year earlier, in January1929. The extremely low temperatures during thePetoskey rescue effort, which reached −30 °F,


1st Pursuit Group pilot incold weather flying gear.

Pilot and P–1 aircraftequipped with skis.

THE MENAND AIR-CRAFT OFTHE 1STPURSUITGROUP HADBEENINVOLVED INMIDWINTERCROSS-COUNTRYFLIGHTS FORA NUMBEROF YEARS

prevented normal operation of their aircraftengines. A local cement company extended a steamhose to thaw engine oil and other components,enabling the aircraft to operate.6

In preparation for their flight to Spokane, thepilots selected to participate in the exercise prac-ticed their cold weather procedures in Novemberand December 1929 by flying from Selfridge Field toan auxiliary training field, Camp Skeel, namedafter an Air Corps pilot, Burt Skeel, commandingofficer of the 27th Aero Squadron, who had beenkilled in a Dayton, Ohio, air race in the fall of 1924.Camp Skeel was located on the south shore of VanEttan Lake, a few miles west of Oscoda and AuSable, Michigan, former lumbering towns on theeast shore of Lake Huron, at the mouth of the AuSable River. The lumbering activities of the townshad been ended by a devastating fire in the summerof 1911, and the local citizens were happy to havethe business that came with the government use ofthe flying field. The airfield at Camp Skeel had beenused regularly in the winter months since 1924 topractice winter flying techniques and would con-tinue to be used for that purpose until the onset ofWorld War II. At Camp Skeel, the pilots practicedlanding and taking off on skis affixed to their P–1s.They also experimented with methods for warmingtheir frozen engines after the aircraft had stood idleduring the frigid winter nights. They thought theyhad developed a satisfactory method for warmingthe engines, but their experiences in a January1930 winter test flight proved otherwise.

The planned route of flight was as follows: From Selfridge Field to Spokane, Washington (theoutbound segment):

1st day: Selfridge Field to St. Ignace, Michigan, 250miles; refueling stop. St. Ignace to Duluth, Min -ne sota, via Hancock (Houghton) Michigan, 400miles; overnight stop.

2d day: Duluth to Grand Forks, North Dakota, 250miles; refueling stop. Grand Forks to Minot,North Dakota, 200 miles; overnight stop.

3d day: Minot to Glasgow, Montana, 250 miles; refu-eling stop. Glasgow to Great Falls, Montana, viaHavre, 250 miles; overnight stop.

4th day: Great Falls to Kalispell, Montana, 200miles; refueling stop. Kalispell to Spokane,Washington, 200 miles.

5th day: One day stopover at Spokane.

From Spokane to Selfridge (the return segment): 6th day: Spokane to Helena, Montana, via Missoula,

Montana, 275 miles; refueling stop. Helena toMiles City, Montana, 200 miles; overnight stop.

7th day: Miles City to Bismarck, North Dakota, 230miles; refueling stop. Bismarck to Fargo, NorthDakota, 200 miles; overnight stop.

8th day: Fargo to Minneapolis, Minnesota, 230miles; refueling stop. Minneapolis to Wausau,Wisconsin, 175 miles; overnight stop.

9th day: Wausau to Escanaba, Michigan, 150 miles;refueling stop. Escanaba to Selfridge Field, 350miles.

The total mileage for the exercise was 3,810miles, 2,000 miles outbound, and 1,810 miles on thereturn. However, due to bad weather and aircraftmaintenance problems, the itinerary was modifiedslightly, and the planned nine-day exercise turnedinto a 21-day endurance test.

The Arctic Patrol pilots flew their test flight inJanuary, when the weather typically at its wintryworst. As it turned out, the winter weather theyexperienced in the flight was much colder than nor-mal. There was no way they could have known thatthe weather during January 1930 would be excep-tionally cold, one of the coldest on record. The tem-peratures they experienced during the last threeweeks of January 1930, when the aircraft were fly-ing the route from Selfridge to Spokane and back,were well below average. To give some idea of howcold it was, in Chicago, during the first six days ofJanuary, before the men departed Selfridge, theweather was relatively mild; the average high wasthirty-four degrees Fahrenheit (F), and the averagelow was fourteen degrees F. During the remainingtwenty-five days of January, when the Arctic Patrolwas flying across the northern portion of the UnitedStates, the average high in Chicago was elevendegrees F, and the average low was minus fivedegrees F. There were nineteen days when the lowwas zero degrees F or below, and during one twelve-day span (from January 15-26) the coldest temper-atures rose above zero only once.7

Farther west, temperatures recorded for themonth of January, 1930, at Fargo, North Dakota,show a similar pattern. For the first six days ofJanuary, the average high was twenty-five degrees F,and the average low was five degrees F. These tem-peratures were normal for this time of year. But forthe remaining twenty-five days in January, the aver-age high was only six degrees above zero F, and theaverage low was minus eleven degrees F. Of thethirty-one days in January, low temperatures roseabove zero degrees F in Fargo on only six days, andon fifteen days (nearly half the month) the high tem-perature was in the single digits or below.8 Althoughthere were no unusually large snowfall amountsduring the month of January (Chicago records indi-cate a maximum of seven inches of snow on theground, while Fargo had between four and fiveinches), the frigid weather produced near arctic fly-ing conditions, in which even small amounts of mois-ture seriously restricted visibility in the form of lightsnow flurries and ice fog. Although the men involvedin the test were not flying anywhere near the ArcticCircle, the weather through which they flew closelysimulated arctic flying conditions, earning for theexercise the well-deserved title of “Arctic Patrol.”

Because they were flying their test flight inJanuary, the pilots were adding to their aerial chal-lenges by limiting their available light during theshort winter days. They could count on only eighthours of useful flying time, from about 9:00 in themorning until 5:00 in the afternoon. They had noinstrument flying capabilities, as instrument flightwas still in the process of being developed. Theywere navigating strictly by visual means, following


THE FRIGIDWEATHERPRODUCEDNEAR ARCTICFLYING CON-DITIONS, …EARNINGFOR THEEXERCISETHE WELL-DESERVEDTITLE OFARCTICPATROL

lake shorelines, rivers, and roads, a challenging taskeven in the best visibility conditions. In addition, theairfields at which they intended to land offered lim-ited support facilities and no lights to aid in landingduring darkness or semi-darkness. Because theywere flying the route on skis instead of wheels(though wheels could be mounted if necessary), theywere required to land on snow-covered fields or ice-covered lakes; landing on bare ground would dam-

age the skis and could result in aircraft accidents.The cold weather severely hindered engine and air-craft maintenance tasks on the ground. Although acontingent of maintenance men was assigned toassist with ground maintenance, the support air-craft did not always maintain the same flyingschedule as the pursuit pilots (though one C–9 air-craft did an admirable job of keeping up with thepilots for most of the stops).

That they would have difficulties successfullycompleting their planned route of flight withoutincident should have been made clear to them whenthe advance pilot, Lt. Walter E. Richards, who flewthe designated route in December, was forced toleave his ship at Kalispell, Montana. The P1-C air-craft he was piloting was equipped with wheels, notskis, and it flipped over on its back when he failedto keep the aircraft within the plowed section of therunway at Kalispell. He returned to Selfridge Fieldby rail. Even before he reached Kalispell, the lasttown before Spokane, Richards experienced consid-erable difficulties and delays due to heavy snow. AtKalispell his ship was damaged beyond the capacityfor repairs to be accomplished locally, and the air-craft was dismantled and shipped to the Air Depotat Fairfield (Dayton), Ohio, for general overhaul.Throughout the segments of the trip that he com-pleted, however, Richards transmitted to SelfridgeField relevant information on the support facilitiesat each stop.

The flight commander of the Arctic Patrol wasMaj. Ralph Royce, Commanding Officer of the FirstPursuit Group. Royce was a native of Marquette,Michigan, and had graduated from the West PointMilitary Academy in 1914. He had flown with the1st Aero Squadron in France during World War I.The other pilots selected to participate in the flightincluded, in addition to Major Royce,

From the 94th Aero Squadron: 1st Lt. Cecil E.Henry and 2d Lts. Ralph C. Rhudy, Paul B.Wurtsmith, Theodore M. Bolen, Edward H.Under hill, and D. M. Lowry.

From the 17th Aero Squadron: 1st Lts. Paul W. Wolf,Alden R. Crawford, and Kenneth A. Rogers, and2d Lts. Donald L. Putt, Ernest K. Warburton,Robert K. Giovanolli, Edwin R. French (on loanfrom the 57th Service Squadron), and Paul E.Shanahan.

From the 27th Aero Squadron: 1st Lt. Marion L.Elliott and 2d Lts. Charles A. Harrington,Homer L. Sanders, Austin Straubel, Norman D.Sillin, and Paul M. Jacobs (on loan from the57th Service Squadron).

Of these twenty-one pilots, eighteen flew the P–1aircraft; three, Lts. Shanahan, French, and Lowry,flew support aircraft.

Several support aircraft were intended toaccompany the P–1s around their route of flight.These included three cargo aircraft, one of whichwas a Douglas C–1, a single-engine aircraft, similarin shape and performance to the Douglas WorldCruiser, in which Air Service pilots and mainte-


Major Ralph Royce in coldweather flying gear prior tothe start of the flight.

Seven pilots and crewmembers of the ArcticPatrol.

nance men had flown around the world in 1924. Theother two transport aircraft were C–9s, Ford Tri-motor transports. 2d Lts. Edwin R. French and D.M. Lowry, Jr., were the pilots of the DouglasTransport C–1; they were accompanied by twomechanics. One C–9 Ford transport carried ninemaintenance and support personnel and equip-ment; 2d Lt. Paul E. Shanahan piloted this aircraft.

As the pilots in the single-seat pursuit aircraftdid not have the time or the equipment necessaryto communicate their positions, a communicationaircraft was expected to maintain radio communi-cation with specified radio stations as the aircraftprogressed along their intended route of flight. This

aircraft, the second C–9 Ford transport, wasequipped with radio receiving and sending units,which were operated on two wavelengths, 32.5 and54 meters.

While the primary purpose of the Arctic Patrolwas to test the efficiency of planes, personnel, andequipment under the most severe winter conditions,the secondary object was to obtain first-hand expe-rience on the value of short-wave radio in connec-tion with Army Air Corps operations in remote sec-tions and covering long distances. The primaryradio contact was a short-wave radio station(Station AB6) which was operated by amateur radiooperators. A number of individuals were responsiblefor monitoring the communications process, includ-ing F. E. Handy, of the American Radio RelayLeague, at Hartford, Connecticut; Capt. Frank E.Stoner, of the U. S. Army Signal Corps; and B. R.Cummings of the Radio Engineering Department,General Electric Company, Schenectady, New York.First Lt. James E. Duke, of the 57th ServiceSquadron, piloted the Radio C–9 airplane, accompa-nied by nine mechanics. SSgt. Kennard Wilson wasthe primary radio operator.

In addition to the three cargo aircraft, an obser-vation aircraft, a Douglas O–2K, accompanied theother aircraft; this aircraft was piloted by 1st Lt.Ennis C. Whitehead, assigned to Wright Field atDayton, Ohio; his passenger in the observation air-craft was Hans J. Adamson, assistant to theSecretary of War for Aviation, F. Trubee Davison.Adamson was supposed to prepare the pressreleases describing the progress of the flight whichwould be passed to the outside world by the person-nel in the radio C–9 transport.


1st Pursuit Group pilotsbeing briefed by Maj.orRoyce prior to the start ofthe flight.

C–9 Cargo Aircraft.

THE SEC-ONDARYOBJECT WASTO OBTAINFIRST-HANDEXPERIENCEON THEVALUE OFSHORT-WAVERADIO INCONNECTIONWITH ARMYAIR CORPSOPERATIONSIN REMOTESECTIONS

Departure from Selfridge

The winter weather had set in early atSelfridge, and plans were made to position the air-craft, equipped with skis, on the ice of Lake St.Clair. The aircraft were originally scheduled todepart from Selfridge Field on January 8. Inpreparation for departure, on January 7, skis werefitted on all aircraft, including the support aircraft,and they were positioned on the frozen surface ofLake St. Clair, which bordered the north edge ofthe field. Unfortunately, the night before depar-ture, a rain and sleet storm struck the area. As aresult, all aircraft were covered with ice, and the

extra weight caused the radio aircraft, alreadyheavy as a result of the radio equipment it wascarrying, to start to sink beneath the surface of thelake; at one point the right wheel of the aircraftwas entirely under water. All available personnelwere hurriedly called to assist in moving all air-craft to the solid ground of the field. The departurewas delayed in order for the ice to be removed fromthe aircraft; as a result, the first aircraft did notdepart Selfridge until two days later, January 10.That day dawned “clear and crisp,” according tothe unofficial report. One inch of snow had fallen.The visibility was good and the temperature wasabout ten degrees above zero, a perfect, if delayed,start for a winter flying exercise. All eighteen P–1aircraft departed Selfridge Field shortly after 9:00in the morning.

The C–1 cargo plane departed Selfridge shortlyafter the P–1s departed, and the first C–9 FordTrimotor aircraft, carrying most of the mainte-nance men, departed at 11:30. The second C–9, car-rying the radio equipment and official photogra-phers, did not manage to take off until 2:20 in theafternoon; the delay was due to the need to replacea coil in one of the radios. Lieutenant EnnisWhitehead was unable to start the engine on hisobservation aircraft, the Douglas O–2K, until thefollowing morning. Thus his passenger, HansAdamson, was immediately separated from theradio communications C–9, whose radio equipmentwas intended to transmit his daily summaries ofthe progress of the flight.

The first destination of the flight of the eigh-teen P–1s was St. Ignace, Michigan, located at thatportion of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula across fromthe tip of the “mitten,” Michigan’s Lower Peninsula,where the north end of today’s Mackinac Bridgetouches land. Their route of flight took the P–1pilots on a north-northwest heading to theSaginaw/Bay City area, and then up the LakeHuron shore to St. Ignace. The aircraft were flyingin formation, probably in three flights of six aircrafteach, each flight consisting of the aircraft from eachsquadron, the 94th, the 17th, and the 27th, withMajor Royce in the lead. Flying at 150 miles perhour over a distance of 250 miles, they should havearrived well before noon. However, their visibilitywas severely reduced by fog and cloud as theypassed over the Saginaw Bay area, and Major Roycemade the decision to land on the frozen surface ofTawas Bay to wait for conditions to improve. Afteran extended wait, they finally departed for St.Ignace.

When they climbed above the clouds north ofTawas Bay, they saw that the cloud deck extendedindefinitely to the north, but they determined tocontinue, relying on their compass headings to takethem to their destination. However, with nothingbut cloud cover beneath them, they eventuallybecame disoriented and were uncertain about theirlocation. In addition, their fuel was running low, solow that one pilot was preparing to parachute fromhis aircraft when the shoreline of the MackinacStraits was spotted through the clouds. Although a


Sergeant Kennard at theradio controls inside theradio C–9 aircraft.

Lieutenant EnnisWhitehead. Picture takenMarch 1925.

landing had been planned at the St. Ignace airport,the aircraft landed on the ice-covered bay next to St.Ignace due to the poor visibility and low fuel.9 Thepilots quickly refueled their aircraft and departedfor Duluth, Minnesota; their route took them on adirect flight across the Upper Peninsula to the twintowns of Hancock and Houghton on the KeweenawPeninsula. At that point they followed the northshoreline of the Upper Peninsula’s Lake Superiorcoast to Duluth, Minnesota. Fortunately, the visibil-ity improved as they flew west, and they landed onthe ice of Duluth Harbor at 3:30 PM after circlingover the neighboring cities of Superior, Wisconsin,and Duluth. Their flying time from St. Ignace wastwo hours and fifteen minutes.

The larger support aircraft were not as fortu-nate in their forward progress as the pursuit air-craft. The Douglas C–1 and the maintenance sup-port C–9, also delayed by the fog and cloud, spentthe night of January 10 at the airport at Munising,Michigan, located on the northern shoreline of theUpper Peninsula, approximately one-third of theway between St. Ignace and Duluth. The radio com-munication C–9, having departed Selfridge mid-afternoon, proceeded only as far as St. Ignacebefore nightfall halted any further flying for theday.

The pilots who arrived at Duluth were wel-comed at a banquet hosted by the Mayor of Duluth,S. F. Snively, city officials, and members of theDuluth Chamber of Commerce. Even though thetemperature at Duluth was near zero degreesFahrenheit when the planes landed, Major Roycesaid the weather was “ideal” for testing their equip-ment. He told the dignitaries in attendance that“the weather is favorable to determine mobility ofplanes in zero weather and to test the numerousrecently developed devices designed to facilitateWinter flying, which is the main purpose of theflight.”10

The next day, January 11th, the route of flightfollowed the northern highway (modern U.S.Highway 2) west from Duluth to Grand Forks,North Dakota, then on to Minot, North Dakota.Seventeen of the eighteen pursuit aircraft success-fully started engines without difficulty on themorning of the 11th; the eighteenth was finallystarted, and all eighteen aircraft departed Duluthat 9:35 AM for Grand Forks, where they landedshortly after noon and refueled. In landing atGrand Forks, Lieutenant Rogers, of the 17thSquadron, damaged one of his skis; he remained atGrand Forks overnight while his damaged ski wasrepaired and replaced. The other seventeen aircraft

proceeded to Minot, North Dakota, where the pilotsspent the night. Lieutenant Whitehead, pilotingthe O–2K observation aircraft with Hans Adamsonas a passenger, finally departed Selfridge Field forSt. Ignace just before 9:00 in the morning; at St.Ignace he and his passenger learned that the radiocommunications C–9 had proceeded to Manistique,Michigan, on the Lake Michigan side of the UpperPeninsula, where it had been delayed. The DouglasC–1 and the maintenance C–9 proceeded toDuluth.

On January 12th, the pilots at Minot experi-enced difficulties starting their engines, as theovernight temperatures had dropped to twentydegrees below zero Fahrenheit. The unofficialreport states, “every known and many unknowndevices were tried in an effort to break the enginesloose enough to use the inertia starters.” However,none of the methods was successful. The crankcaseof Lieutenant Bolen’s P–1 was damaged when thestarter failed. A decision was made to delay furtherattempts to start engines until the arrival of theFord C–9 transport aircraft, which was carryingaircraft engine heating equipment. The mainte-nance C–9, piloted by Lieutenant Shanahan,arrived in the early afternoon. Lieutenant Rogers,who had been delayed at Grand Forks with a dam-aged ski on his P–1, also arrived. The Douglas C–1Transport, piloted by Lieutenants French andLowry, landed later in the afternoon. It had beenforced down twenty-five miles east of Minot by abreak in one of the engine fuel lines; it proceeded toMinot after the break was repaired, but the rightaxle broke when it landed at Minot. As a result ofthe delay due to difficulties starting engines, all air-craft remained at Minot on the 12th.

The radio communications C–9, which hadspent the night at Manistique, attempted to catchup with the main body of pursuit aircraft. However,it proceeded only as far as the small, remote com-munity of Amasa, Michigan, about ten miles northof Crystal Falls, Michigan, before it was forced toland due to engine difficulties. On the 12th,Lieutenant Whitehead, in his O–2K, finally joinedthe radio communications plane at Amasa. But see-ing that the radio C–9 was experiencing mechanicalproblems, Whitehead flew on to Wausau, Wisconsin,the nearest large airport, on the 13th, where theyhoped the radio C–9 would soon join them.However, engine problems and weather delays keptthe radio C–9 at Amasa for four more days, untilJanuary 16.

On January 13th, the pilots and maintenancemen at Minot used a special cold-weather technique


Arctic Patrol aircraft linedup prior to departure.

EVENTHOUGH THETEMPERA-TURE ATDULUTH WASNEAR ZERO… WHEN THEPLANESLANDED,MAJORROYCE SAIDTHEWEATHERWAS “IDEAL”FOR TESTING

to start their engines: water and oil were drainedfrom engines and live steam injected into theengines using hot air actuated by blow torches. Asmight be expected, this technique caused somestrain on the engine components, and three radia-tors developed leaks. This was a long process, andthe planes were forced to depart in smaller groupsas the engines were started. The route of flight forthe day called for the aircraft to follow a westerlyheading from Minot, North Dakota, to Glasgow,Montana, for refueling, and then on to Great Falls,Montana, via Havre, Montana. From Minot toHavre the aircraft continued to follow the mainnorthern highway (modern U.S. Route 2) connectingthese cities. At Havre, their direction of flightchanged from west to southwest.

From the Montana border to Glasgow, theMissouri River paralleled the highway and providedadditional navigation assistance. At Glasgow, how-ever, the Missouri River separated from the north-ern highway and did not reappear to the pilots untilthey were approximately halfway from Havre toGreat Falls. From Glasgow to Havre, the pilotscould follow the course of another river, the MilkRiver, a smaller tributary of the Missouri River. Dueto the sequential departure times, by the time thelast aircraft arrived at Glasgow, at 1:15 PM, the firstaircraft was taking off for Great Falls. While theweather was generally good between Minot andGlasgow, flying conditions deteriorated betweenGlasgow and Great Falls.

Major Royce and eleven other aircraftdeparted early enough in the day to follow theroute as scheduled. Although the weather condi-tions worsened as they approached Great Falls,they were able to follow the Missouri River intoGreat Falls, where they landed by 3:45 PM. One ofthe pilots flying with Major Royce, LieutenantRogers, was suffering from the effects of frostbite,

and badly damaged his landing gear when helanded at Great Falls. During the segment of theflight from Glasgow to Great Falls, the pilots expe-rienced some of the most challenging winterweather they had yet flown through: the tempera-ture varied from five degrees above zero to tendegrees below zero. The wind chill factor at 0degrees in a wind of 100 miles per hour is 40degrees below zero, and frostbite on open skin canoccur in less than two minutes. In addition, visibil-ity was reduced by snow fog and snow flurries. Tofollow their route, pilots were required to fly as lowas 200 feet above the terrain. Fortunately, the ter-rain between Glasgow and Great Falls was rela-tively flat, so the pilots did not have to worry toomuch about avoiding hills or mountains.

Two other groups of aircraft experienced delaysin arriving at Great Falls. Lt. Marion Elliott, of the27th Pursuit Squadron, leading a flight of two otheraircraft following behind Major Royce, was forced byengine problems to land at a remote ranch nearHosey, Montana, southeast of Big Sandy, Montana,approximately halfway between Havre and GreatFalls. His two wingmen landed beside him to giveassistance, but when they discovered that one of hispistons was inoperative, they continued on to GreatFalls, leaving him behind; there was no room in aP–1 for another individual to fit into the cockpit.The last group of aircraft to depart Glasgow,Lieutenants Wolf, Warburton, and Putt, were notable to proceed any farther than Havre before dark-ness forced them to land; they were joined enrouteby Lieutenant Shanahan, who was flying the main-tenance C–9; initially intending to land at Kalispell,he was unable to find his way through the mountainpasses, and he returned to Havre. On his initialtakeoff from Glasgow, Lieutenant Warburton real-ized that his skis had been damaged, and they wereremoved and replaced with wheels. Fortunately, he


Curtiss P–1 Hawk aircraftshowing the effects of theice storm prior to departureat Selfridge Field.

THE TEMPER-ATURE VAR-IED FROMFIVEDEGREESABOVE ZEROTO TENDEGREESBELOW ZERO… ANDFROSTBITEON OPENSKIN CANOCCUR INLESS THANTWO MIN-UTES

was able to continue, landing safely on wheels atHavre.

Delay at Great Falls

On January 14th, cold and snowy weather con-ditions at Great Falls severely hampered the effortsof the pilots to start their aircraft, even though theywere assisted by the citizens of the city in startingthe engines of the aircraft, an effort which requiredmost of the morning. About one o’clock in the after-noon, Lieutenant Crawford, took off to determine ifvisibility was sufficient for departure. By the timehe reached a distance of five miles from the field, hewas forced to fly at an altitude of 200 feet to main-tain visual contact with the ground, and hereturned to the field and landed. Good visibility wasessential for the next leg of the trip, which requiredthe pilots to fly north and then west through moun-tainous valleys to Kalispell. Due to persistent snowflurries, very cold weather (the temperatures variedfrom minus fifteen to minus thirty degrees F.), andlow visibility, the pilots decided to remain in the citythat day. Lieutenants Wolf, Warburton, and Putt,who had landed at Havre on the 13th, proceededdirectly to Kalispell, Montana. In landing atKalispell, however, Lieutenant Putt broke one of hisskis. Lieutenant Shanahan, flying the maintenanceC–9, also arrived at Kalispell from Havre. Afterlanding at Kalispell, Shanahan reported that hehad “encountered the worst flying conditions of hisexperience” between Havre and Kalispell.11

On the morning of January 15, with theweather still prohibitively cold, Great Falls city offi-cials arranged to position three locomotives on arailroad siding near the aircraft to provide steam tohelp start the aircraft engines; pipes transferredsteam generated by the locomotive engine boilersto the area where the aircraft were parked. A mix-ture of steam, hot Prestone, and hot oil was used tostart the engines of seven aircraft. These aircraft,led by Lieutenant Crawford, attempted to fly toKalispell, following the highway from Great Fallsnorth to Shelby, Montana, and then west toKalispell. One pilot, Lieutenant Sanders, wasunable to depart due to the unserviceable condi-tions of his skis. The other six ships approachedwithin thirty miles of Kalispell, but were forced toturn back due to poor visibility in the mountainvalleys. Two pilots had to make emergency land-ings to refuel: Lieutenant Sillins landed at Brady,Montana, approximately fifty miles north of GreatFalls, and Lieutenant Giovanolli landed at Power,Montana, twenty-five miles north. Just as MajorRoyce was preparing to order search parties to besent out to locate the missing pilots, they returnedto Great Falls.

Another missing pilot arrived in Great Falls onthe 15th: Lieutenant Elliott, who had been forceddown due to engine failure near Hosey, Montana,arrived on the train from Big Sandy, Montana. Arancher living in the remote area where Elliott wasforced down brought Elliott to Big Sandy; they trav-eled a distance of seventy miles across primitive

roads in a wagon drawn by a team of horses in bliz-zard conditions. Apparently the ground journey wasas arduous as any the airmen had experienced inthe skies that day: Elliott reported that one horsedied after arrival in Big Sandy, and the individualwho had driven the wagon was taken to a local hos-pital in critical condition.

On January 16th, one of locomotive boilers sup-plying steam to start the engines malfunctionedand efforts to start the aircraft engines were haltedfor the day while repairs were made. On the 17th,the Great Falls area was hit by a blizzard; thirty-five mile per hour winds combined with falling tem-peratures (the low temperature was fourteendegrees below zero), and snow piled up around theaircraft. That the weather was proving to be asevere challenge to the men in the flight was indi-cated by the remarks of Major Royce, who expressedthe opinion that the “ships isolated by the RockyMountain weather were in a worse predicamentthan probably would prevail in actual warfare.”12 InKalispell, flying conditions were less severe, and thethree pursuit aircraft which had landed there pro-ceeded to Spokane, along with the maintenance C–9transport; these were the first aircraft to success-fully complete the outbound leg of the expedition.On the 18th, weather conditions remained poor atGreat Falls.

During the five day layover at Great Falls nec-essary repairs were made to the aircraft; in additionto normal engine maintenance, the aircraft skis hadbeen badly worn, and four skis were replaced. Thepilots’ health and well-being required attention aswell, as nearly every pilot had experienced someform of frostbite: it was reported that all pilots “suf-fered extremely” from the cold weather. LieutenantsUnderhill, Giovanolli, and Straubel experiencedfrostbite on their noses and other portions of theirfaces. Lieutenant Rogers, who had nosed over onlanding at Great Falls, had suffered from frostbiteon one foot; his condition was serious enough thathe was treated in a Great Falls hospital until the26th of January. The pilots had found, to their dis-comfort and dissatisfaction, that their flying equip-ment was not well suited to the frigid flying condi-tions. Their leather flying suits, for example, tendedto become stiff and unwieldy in the extremely coldtemperatures they were experiencing. They had totake off their gloves in order to work on theirengines, and Major Royce suffered from frostbite ofthe hands when he attempted to tighten a bolt onhis engine. In flight their goggles frosted overalmost immediately, due to the contrast of humanbody heat and frigid temperatures, forcing the pilotsto fly without goggles, thus increasing chances forfrostbite of the face. One officer commented favor-ably on the cold weather clothing that the natives ofGreat Falls were wearing (apparently layered flan-nel clothing), suggesting that that kind of clothingwould be more suitable than their own cold weatherflying gear.

In general, winter conditions and the relativefragility of their equipment had taken a toll on theArctic Patrol aircraft and pilots. One indication of


A RANCHERLIVING IN THEREMOTEAREA WHEREELLIOTT WASFORCEDDOWNBROUGHTELLIOTT TOBIG SANDY …THE GROUNDJOURNEYWAS ASARDUOUS ASANY THE AIR-MEN HADEXPERI-ENCED

the difficulties the men were experiencing is shownin a snapshot summary of the location and condi-tion of all aircraft involved in the expedition onJanuary 15, one week after they had departed fromtheir home field at Selfridge. Of the eighteen pur-suit aircraft, thirteen were located at Great Falls,most of which were under repair while awaitingsuitable weather for departure; three aircraft wereparked at Kalispell, waiting to depart for Spokane;one aircraft was sitting in a rancher’s field nearHosey, Montana, awaiting a new engine; andanother aircraft was sitting on the airfield at Minot,North Dakota, also waiting for a new engine. Of thethree transport aircraft, only one, the maintenanceC–9, piloted by Lieutenant Shanahan, had beenable to keep up with the vanguard of the Patrol; itwas sitting on the field at Kalispell with the threeP–1s, waiting to fly to Spokane. The other mainte-nance transport, the C–1, was sitting on the field atMinot, North Dakota; the maintenance men on thetransport were repairing an axle while waiting toinstall a new engine for Lieutenant Bolen’s P–1. Thethird transport, the radio C–9, was sitting on theairfield at Wausau, Wisconsin, waiting for moreengine repairs. And the final aircraft, the observa-tion O–2K, was also at Wausau. Thus, the Patrol’stwenty-two aircraft were sitting at five locations, inthree states, almost all of them needing major orminor repairs.

Arrival in Spokane

Finally, on January 19th, weather conditionsimproved at Great Falls, and Major Royce was ableto lead the other twelve pursuit aircraft intoSpokane, but following a more southerly routethan originally intended, through the mountainvalleys into Missoula and Thompson Falls, Mon -tana. Major C. V. Haynes, of the Washington Natio -nal Guard, joined the aircraft as they circled overSpokane and led them to on the frozen surface ofNewman Lake, fifteen miles east of Spokane,where they landed at 3:00 PM.13 LieutenantElliott, whose aircraft was sitting on a hillside inHosey, Montana, with an inoperative engine, flewthe aircraft that had been assigned to LieutenantRogers, who remained hospitalized in Great Fallsfor frostbite.

After arriving in Spokane, Major Roycereported that they had encountered especially diffi-cult flying conditions between Great Falls andSpokane. Immediately after departing Great Falls,they encountered snow and low clouds, forcing themto fly low through the valleys near Missoula, wherethey stopped to refuel. The nearly bare ground atMissoula caused some ski damage, and one ski hadto be repaired. They took off from Missoula in windand snow; en route to Spokane they found that theair currents over the Rocky Mountains “tossed thetiny planes like leaves in a windstorm,” and thepilots struggled to maintain level flight. AtThompson Falls, Montana, an intense snowstormforced the aircraft to fly though mountain passeswell below the mountain tops. The final leg of the

flight was described as “combat in the front yard ofthe Arctic Circle.”14

After their safe arrival in Spokane, Major Roycetelegraphed the following news to the home stationat Selfridge:

Having battled the forces of King Winter ten daysand won from them secrets of how they intend to aidenemies of the United States in wartime, the FirstPursuit rests in Spokane, Washington, while battlewounds are healed. . . . Battered skis are beingrepaired, motors looked over, valves checked, fabricpatched and broken parts replaced as well as can bedone in this operation of a fighting air unit far awayfrom base of supplies. . . . 15

In his telegram Royce summarized the status ofall Arctic Patrol aircraft and pilots, relaying his planto have a replacement engine for LieutenantElliott’s aircraft shipped to Great Falls, where itwould then be delivered to Hosey, Montana, by themaintenance C–9, and it was hoped that LieutenantRogers, hospitalized in Great Falls, would then haverecovered sufficiently to fly his own aircraft on theremainder of the homeward leg.

A new engine for Lieutenant Bolen’s P–1arrived in Minot on the 17th of January and wasinstalled on the 18th. Bolen departed Minot on the19th and arrived in Great Falls that afternoon,where he learned that Major Royce and the otheraircraft had departed for Spokane that morning.Taking advantage of the cooperative weather, Bolendeparted Great Falls at 10:00 AM on the 20th andarrived in Spokane at 2:30 PM, one day after MajorRoyce had arrived. Bolen’s seven-day delay in Minothad allowed him to miss the blizzard conditionsthat had held up the others in Great Falls, and hewas able to cover in two days what it had taken theother pilots six days to traverse.

After replacing Lieutenant Bolen’s engine, themaintenance men boarded the Douglas C–1 trans-port, on which the axle had been repaired, and theaircraft departed Minot for Great Falls. But justpast the Montana border, weather forced the C–1 toland at Sidney, Montana, where the axle was onceagain damaged on landing. The entire right half ofthe landing gear needed to be replaced, andLieutenant French and his maintenance men set-tled in to await the arrival of a new axle.

On January 21st, aircraft repairs continued onall pursuit aircraft. All worn and damaged skis werereplaced on the aircraft; on all aircraft, only two skiswere determined to be in good condition. Engineswere tested on the ground and on short test flights.The idea of wiring heaters onto the aircraft enginesto facilitate engine starting in cold weather was con-sidered, but discarded in favor of placing plumbers’fire pots beneath the aircraft engines. A plumber’sfire pot was a small stove that plumbers used tomelt solder to repair copper pipes. The heat gener-ated by the flame on these fire pots was intense, andwhen focused by a short section of standard stovepipe, it could generate a stream of very hot airupwards to an aircraft engine placed above it.


IMMEDIATELYAFTERDEPARTINGGREATFALLS, THEYENCOUN-TERED SNOWAND LOWCLOUDS,FORCINGTHEM TO FLYLOWTHROUGHTHE VALLEYSNEARMISSOULA

Because plumbers’ fire pots were standard equip-ment used by plumbers in northern latitudes, thedecision was made to request the temporary use ofthese devices in the cities where they intended tospend the night. In addition, pilots had made someadjustments to their cold weather flying gear,including techniques for keeping their goggles freeof frost. Finally, after all repairs were made, the air-craft were ready to depart on the return leg.

Departure from Spokane

At 10:45 AM, January 22, the Selfridge flyersdeparted Spokane, nearly two hours later thanthey had hoped to depart. Engine starting prob-lems and ski replacements caused the delay. Theyhad hoped to depart early enough to demonstrate aformation flyover for the citizens of Spokane, butthe late departure resulted in the cancellation ofthat activity. The weather was excellent for flyingover the mountains: cold but clear, with unlimitedvisibility. Partly due to the late departure, the ini-tial route of flight, from Spokane to Helena,Montana, via Missoula, to Miles City, Montana,was modified, and the aircraft landed at Helena forthe night. The aircraft flew at 4,000 feet, at a muchhigher altitude than they had flown in their earlierflights, from Newman Lake to Sand Point, Idaho, toThompson Falls, Montana, across the southern endof the Flathead Indian Reservation to Missoula,and then above the Little Blackfoot River Canyonto Helena. After they landed in Helena, three hoursafter leaving Spokane, Major Royce said that thevisibility was the best that they encountered “onthe entire trip” and that “for the first time theyenjoyed mountain flying regardless of the coldweather.” It was cold indeed; when they landed atHelena, the temperature was twelve degrees belowzero.

The arrival of the aircraft was a major event forthe citizens of Helena, and workers “swarmed to thestreets” to watch the planes as they circled the cityprior to landing. The maintenance Ford TrimotorC–9 transport followed the smaller aircraft onto thelanding field. A local newspaper reporter describedthe scene:

As the fast little Curtiss Hawks were placed in line[on the field], the tri-motored Ford transport arrivedwith the enlisted crew of mechanics. The huge mono-plane was brought to the earth with the same appar-ent ease of the small pursuit planes and taxied intoposition. It gave an impression of a giant bird thathad remained aloft and then settled when its youngwere found to be safe.16

One unfortunate incident occurred whenLieutenant Bolen, who had just caught up with theother flyers after having a replacement engineinstalled at Minot, struck a metal fence post whiletaxying in at Helena. The landing gear on one sideof his aircraft broke, and his aircraft nosed over,breaking the propeller. Two local welders werecalled in to assist in the repairs.

City officials hosted Major Royce and the otherofficers at the Montana Club, a luxurious privateclub still in existence, while the enlisted men weretreated to dinner at the Eddy Café, a popularrestaurant that continued in existence until thelate 1930s. At the Montana Club, two local busi-nessmen, Norman Winestein and John Brown,made official welcoming speeches; Major Roycesummarized the purpose of the Arctic Patrol flightand recommended improving facilities at the localairport, as Helena was naturally situated to be abusy location on the east-west route of flight acrossthe nation. Lieutenant Crawford, speaking onbehalf of the aviators, thanked the residents fortheir hospitality.17

The only officer who did not attend the banquetat the Montana was Lieutenant Elliott, who did notland at Helena. As the aircraft had descendedtowards the Helena airport after clearing the lastmountain ridge, he departed on a northeast headingfor Great Falls, where he landed about an hourlater. At Great Falls he handed over his P–1 toLieutenant Rogers, who had been recovering fromfrostbite in a Great Falls hospital. This aircraft hadoriginally been assigned to Lieutenant Rogers. Anew engine to replace the engine in his abandonedaircraft at Hosey, Montana, had been shipped toGreat Falls, and Rogers hoped, with the assistanceof the men in the maintenance C–9 transport, toaccompany the new engine to his remote landingsite and, after it had been installed and tested, fly itout of Montana to rejoin the other aircraft in theArctic Patrol as they returned to Selfridge Field.

The temperatures at Helena on January 22,were unusually cold: the high was minus one degreeFahrenheit and the low was minus eighteen. Themen were worried that the engines would be espe-cially difficult to start on the morning of the 23d.However, using the steam provided by a NorthernPacific engine parked on a siding near the airfieldand the heat from several plumbers’ fire pots, manyprovided by local plumbers, all engines were suc-cessfully started. In attempting to use the inertiastarters on the engines, four were broken, and theengines had to be started by hand. Once these air-craft engines were successfully started, the pilotswere told to proceed directly to Miles City, Montana,without stopping at Billings, the designated enroutestop. The other aircraft proceeded normally, andboth groups of aircraft arrived at Miles City withinminutes of each other.

The route of flight for the day was from Helenato Billings to Miles City; the aircraft followed themain road south from Helena to Three Forks, whichparalleled part of the Missouri River. From ThreeForks to Billings and then to Miles City, the mainroad paralleled the Yellowstone River, which flowedin an easterly direction. The route of flight wastherefore reasonably easy to follow. However, as theaircraft flew from Billings to Miles City, the visibil-ity began to deteriorate; the pilots encountered aseries of snow squalls, and the aircraft were forcedinto an echelon formation, each man riding a littleabove and behind the aircraft in front. In the winter


THE ARRIVALOF THE AIR-CRAFT WASA MAJOREVENT FORTHE CITIZENSOF HELENA,AND WORKERS“SWARMEDTO THESTREETS” TOWATCH THEPLANES

conditions, the aircraft flying in the top positionoften could see only the aircraft beneath him, andmaybe one aircraft below that. Flying in such con-ditions in the cold winds and in limited visibilitywould test the nerve of any pilot. However, as theunofficial report laconically stated, the pilots “weregrowing accustomed to flying through such storms.”Lieutenant Bolen, the last to leave because his air-craft had been damaged on landing at Helena, suc-cessfully found his way to Miles City, arriving last,at 4:55 PM.

Lieutenant Shanahan, flying the maintenanceC–9, flew to Great Falls from Helena, where heloaded the new engine for Lieutenant Elliott’s air-craft and carried it, the maintenance crew, andLieutenant Elliott to the remote area of Hosey,Montana.

If the men of the Arctic Patrol thought that theworst conditions of their test flight were behindthem, the events of January 24 tested them as theyhad not experienced before. As they looked at theirmaps, they would have thought that the route offlight for January 24 was nothing exceptional. Theirroute of flight would take them from Miles City,Montana, northeast alongside the YellowstoneRiver to Glendive, Montana, and then east along themain highway to Bismarck, North Dakota, and thenfarther east to Fargo, North Dakota. At least, thatwas the plan.

Emergency Landing at Beach

When the aircraft left Miles City on the morn-ing of the 24th, the weather reports indicated thatthey would encounter snow flurries and an esti-mated ceiling of 1,000 feet. But there were noweather stations along their route of flight, and theweather they encountered was much worse thanforecast. Once they turned east at Glendive, at theeastern end of Montana, away from the YellowstoneRiver, the visibility worsened and the ground routebecame increasingly difficult to follow. As theycrossed into western North Dakota, they foundthemselves flying in blizzard conditions so severethat they were unable to follow the road to Fargo.Finally, five miles east of Beach, North Dakota, bat-tling the wind-driven snow in severely reduced vis-ibility, Major Royce spotted a ranch building on ahillside and decided to land. Flying low in the blind-ing snowstorm, he circled the ranch buildings in aneffort to determine the wind direction and locate agood landing area. Unable to see clearly in the blow-ing snow, Major Royce set his aircraft down in whathe hoped was a promising location. But he could notsee the obstacles in front of him, and his aircraftplowed through two fence lines before coming torest on top of a fence post in a third fence line.Following closely behind Major Royce, LieutenantWarburton aimed for what he thought was a cleararea, then discovered that he was heading directlytowards a ranch house. In a frantic effort to avoidcrashing into the ranch house, Warburton pulledback on the control stick, causing the aircraft tonose up over the top of the house; then it lost flying

speed, and the aircraft stalled and fell off on theright wing as it crashed into the ground a few hun-dred feet beyond the house. The other pilots, circlingabove in the wind and snow, and unable to see theground in the blowing snow, spotted a windmill notfar from the ranch house. Observing the movementof the vane and the speed with which the bladeswere spinning, they were able to determine thewind direction and estimate the velocity of thewind. Estimating the height of the windmill thatwas visible above the snow-covered field, they wereable to guess at the depth of the snow. They set upa left hand circling pattern and one by one landedsafely nearby in a clearer section of the field.

Lieutenant Warburton had been badly injuredin the crash, receiving deep cuts about his face,including two deep cuts in his forehead and one onhis chin. The injuries had occurred when his facestruck an object in the cockpit as the aircraft con-tacted the ground, quite possibly the end of one ofthe machine guns which were mounted in front ofthe cockpit. The rancher who lived in the house, A.H. Arnold, pulled Warburton clear of the wreckedaircraft and brought him inside the house. In a stateof shock, Warburton was transferred to the smalltown of Beach in a wagon sled, the weather beingtoo difficult for automobiles to maneuver throughthe blowing snow. Warburton was later moved to anarmy hospital at Fort Lincoln, North Dakota, southof Mandan, near Bismarck, North Dakota. He waseventually transferred to Selfridge Field by rail.When he recovered he could remember no details ofthe crash.

During the afternoon of the 24th, Major Royce,who had been uninjured in his landing, and theother pilots surveyed the damage to the two air-craft. Lieutenant Warburton’s aircraft had beenalmost completely destroyed. Portions of his aircraftwere used to repair the damage on Major Royce’saircraft, including some fabric, the stabilizer, andtail surface. The instruments, machine gun, and onemagneto were removed from Warburton’s aircraft.What remained was, according to the informalreport, “nothing but junk,” and was eventuallyhauled away. Six of the pilots spent most of theafternoon sewing up the torn fabric in Major Royce’splane. Other adjustments had to be made as well, asthe lower wings had been stretched away from thelower section of the fuselage as a result of the hardlanding, and a fence post had punched through thebottom of the fuselage. Work was made difficult bythe blowing and drifting snow. The pilots spent thenight in the ranch house, listening to the stormblowing outside.

On the morning of January 25, the force of thestorm had decreased, and six pilots were able tostart their engines, using some of the plumbers’ firepots that they had stowed on their aircraft. Afterthey started their engines, Lieutenants Crawford,Straubel, Sillin, Rhudy, Underhill, and Wurtsmithflew to Bismarck, North Dakota, where theyawaited the arrival of the other aircraft.

Back at Hosey Ranch, Montana, LieutenantShanahan had succeeded in safely landing his


SIX OF THEPILOTSSPENT MOSTOF THEAFTERNOONSEWING UPTHE TORNFABRIC INMAJORROYCE’SPLANE …OTHERADJUST-MENTS HADTO BE MADEAS WELL, ASTHE LOWERWINGS HADBEENSTRETCHEDAWAY FROMTHE LOWERSECTION OFTHE FUSE-LAGE

maintenance C–9 transport on a hillside slope. Themechanics on the aircraft removed the new enginefrom the transport, transferred it to the strandedP–1, replaced the old engine with the new, and thenloaded the old engine on the transport. After suc-cessfully starting the new engine, LieutenantElliott, who had been a passenger on the transport,flew his P–1 off the hilly slope and headed back toGreat Falls, with Lieutenant Shanahan and hismaintenance crew following in the C–9. With nodaylight left, they spent the night in Great Falls.

On the 26th, Lieutenant Rogers, who had beenreleased from the hospital in Great Falls afterrecovering from frostbite, was able to climb backinto his original P–1; flying in formation withLieutenant Elliott in his P–1 with a new engine,both pilots departed Great Falls for Fargo, NorthDakota, via Miles City and Bismarck. LieutenantShanahan in his C–9 followed behind. On the 26thalso, the other C–9, the radio transport, finallydeparted from the airport at Wasau, Wisconsin, butcould proceed only as far as Minneapolis before amalfunctioning engine halted further progress. Atthis point, realizing that further attempts to partic-ipate in the radio communication process of theArctic Patrol were fruitless, Lieutenant Whiteheadand his passenger, Hans Adamson, flew back toDayton, Ohio, in the O–2K aircraft.

At the Arnold farm at Beach, North Dakota, theremaining nine aircraft were finally preparing to

depart. However, just as they were about to depart,they saw that their Douglas C–1 transport, whichhad been sidelined at Sidney, Montana, only about50 miles north of Beach, was circling overhead.Apparently the pilot, Lieutenant French, seeing theaircraft parked on the ground, assumed that thefield was safe for landing, and was about to touchdown in the snow-covered field; however, the airmenon the ground successfully waved the aircraft off.The Douglas transport had repaired its landinggear, but had replaced the skis with wheels, andattempting a wheel landing in a snow-covered fieldwould have had catastrophic results.

Once airborne, Major Royce and the other eightpilots soon encountered another snowstorm halfwayto Bismarck. Major Royce narrowly avoided strikinga church steeple near Richardton, North Dakota,and briefly considered returning to Beach. However,after orbiting for a short period, the pilots noticedthat the visibility was improving, and they wereable to continue to Bismarck, where they landedjust as the six pilots who had arrived earlier weredeparting for Fargo. While refueling and eatinglunch at Bismarck, Major Royce was interviewed bysome members of the press, and his comments indi-cated that the stress of the aerial undertaking wasbeginning to tell on him and undoubtedly on hispilots as well. He said that “inadequate equipmenthad caused his men intense suffering.” He com-pared their unpleasant flying experience to that ofair mail pilots, whose engines “are started in warmhangars” where “all the pilot has to do is climb in.”Their experience, Royce stated, had been much dif-ferent:

At Beach we were up at 6:00 AM this morning. From7:10 AM until 1:15 PM we had to work to get ourengines started in the cold, open fields. When wefinally got ready to leave for Bismarck we were alldog-tired. Under [these] conditions . . . our men arerequired to do too much work to get off the ground.18

To suggest that the air mail pilots of the time wereflying in relatively comfortable conditions comparedto those experienced by the Arctic Patrol indicatesthe fatigue and weariness that Major Royce musthave been feeling.

After refueling and enjoying a quick lunch,Major Royce and the others departed for Fargo also.The weather was good, and the visibility hadimproved so that all aircraft could follow the roadfrom Bismarck to Fargo. Lieutenant Crawford andthe first flight of six aircraft arrived at Fargo at 4:30PM, and Major Royce’s group arrived 25 minuteslater, and at about the same time the Douglas C–1transport landed at Fargo as well.

On January27th, all aircraft that had landed atFargo proceeded without incident from Fargo toMinneapolis. They departed Fargo at 10:30 AM andarrived at Minneapolis by 12:30 PM, following themain road from Fargo. Lieutenant Shanahan in themaintenance C–9 arrived from Bismarck just as thepursuit aircraft were departing and joined thegroup on the flight to Minneapolis. As they departed


Major Royce examines tornfabric on his aircraft atBeach, North Dakota.

HE COMPAREDTHEIRUNPLEASANTFLYINGEXPERIENCETO THAT OFAIR MAILPILOTS,

Fargo, the formation of aircraft encountered anintense snow storm shortly after take-off. MajorRoyce led the aircraft in a circling climb until theywere above the clouds and then, after spotting anopening in the storm clouds, dove down through theopening and followed the road into Minneapolis,dodging the occasional snow shower on the way.When they landed at Minneapolis, for the first timesince departure, almost all aircraft were together inone location since they had departed Selfridge Fieldseventeen days earlier. The two missing aircraftwere Lieutenant Warburton’s P–1, which hadcrashed at Beach, North Dakota, and the Douglasobservation aircraft O–2K, which had returned toDayton.

On January 28, all aircraft left Minneapolis justafter noon and flew a relatively short hop due eastin cold, clear weather to Wausau, Wisconsin, wherethey landed on snow-covered runways for their lastovernight stay before returning to Selfridge Field.The route of flight on the 29th called for the pursuitaircraft to fly due east to Green Bay, Wisconsin, andthen up the coast of Green Bay to Escanaba,Michigan, where they were to land on the ice-cov-ered waters to refuel. From Escanaba their route offlight took them east along the northern LakeMichigan coastline to St. Ignace, and then southalong the Lake Huron shore to the Saginaw/BayCity, Michigan area, and then southeast to theirhome field at Mt. Clemens, Michigan. From St.Ignace they were essentially following the reversecourse of their route north on the first day of theirdeparture twenty days earlier. Major Royce electedto follow the shoreline route to the northern tip ofMichigan’s Lower Peninsula rather than risk adirect flight across Lake Michigan in the winterweather.

Using the plumbers’ fire pots, the pilots wereable to start all engines successfully, and theydeparted Wausau at 9:20 AM. They landed on anice-covered lake at Escanaba, where the aircraftwere refueled and the pilots ate lunch. Theydeparted for the long, three-hour return flight toSelfridge Field around 2:00 PM. The weather on the29th was cold and clear, so the pilots anticipated noproblems in returning to Selfridge. However, shortlyafter departing Escanaba, Lieutenant Sillins’ P–1developed engine trouble, and he landed on thefrozen surface of the bay at Cooks, Michigan,approximately thirty miles east of Escanaba.Lieutenant Elliott landed as well to render assis-tance. The two pilots determined that Sillins’ enginehad a broken connecting rod, which would requirean engine change. Lieutenant Sillins remained withhis disabled aircraft, and Lieutenant Elliott, unableto provide additional help, took off, hoping to catchup with the other aircraft on their homeward flight.

The main group of fifteen aircraft arrived atSelfridge Field shortly before dark, at 5:15 PM, andpassed in review over the hangar line in a “tightlypacked formation.” Lieutenant Elliott, who haddropped out of the flight to assist Lieutenant Sillinsat Cooks, arrived one hour later, at 6:15 PM, afterdarkness had fallen. Only one of the three transportaircraft arrived at Selfridge on the 29th: LieutenantShanahan, piloting the maintenance C–9, landed at6:25, well after dark; at Selfridge floodlights wereturned on to aid both Elliott and Shanahan in theirnight landings.19 The radio C–9 and the DouglasC–1, following behind the others, landed at Bay Cityto avoid landing in the dark and arrived at Selfridgeat noon the following day.

Lieutenant Sillins, waiting for a new engineat Cooks, did not arrive until several days later.


Major Royce and P–1 air-craft at Fargo, NorthDakota.

USING THEPLUMBERS’FIRE POTS,THE PILOTSWERE ABLETO STARTALL ENGINESSUCCESS-FULLY, ANDTHEYDEPARTEDWAUSAU

TO SUGGESTTHAT THEAIR MAILPILOTS OFTHE TIMEWERE FLY-ING IN RELA-TIVELY COM-FORTABLECONDITIONSCOMPAREDTO THOSEEXPERI-ENCED BYTHE ARCTICPATROL INDI-CATES THEFATIGUE ANDWEARINESSTHAT MAJORROYCE MUSTHAVE BEENFEELING

Bad weather on January 30th, prevented anyflights from departing Selfridge to assistLieutenant Sillins. On January 31, LieutenantHarry Johnson, a Selfridge Field pilot, departed ina maintenance C–9 loaded with four mechanicsand a new engine. He first flew to Cooks, but therewas no place to land, so he flew to the airfield atManistique, Michigan, approximately fifteenmiles to the east, where he offloaded the newengine and the mechanics. Arrangements weremade to transport the engine and mechanics toCooks, where Sillin’s aircraft was located. Allrepairs were complete by February 1st, but badweather prevented his departure until the follow-ing day, and on February 2d, Sillins made his suc-cessful return to Selfridge Field, arriving fourdays after the main contingent of aircraft hadarrived. Sillins’ return on February 2d, officiallyconcluded the flight of the Arctic Patrol aircraft,which had required twenty-four days to complete,although the main body of aircraft had arrivedfour days earlier, on January 29.

However, flying activities related to the ArcticPatrol were not yet concluded. After loading thedamaged engine from Lieutenant Sillins’ aircraft,Lieutenant Johnson departed Manistique with themechanics in his C–9 and was heading south forSelfridge, flying at low altitude due to poor visibilityin occasional snow showers. He had just passed overthe small town of Alba, Michigan, about twentymiles west of Gaylord and seven miles northeast ofMancelona, when two of his three engines (his cen-ter and right engines) abruptly stopped, probably asa result of water in the gas lines which froze, block-

ing the fuel flow. Apparently water had entered theaircraft fuel tanks during refueling at Manistique; itis likely that water in the gas lines had causedengine problems in the radio C–9, which had refu-eled there two weeks earlier. At low altitude andwith insufficient power, Johnson had no choice butto land immediately. He saw an open, snow-coveredfield that appeared to have a reasonably smoothsurface. Unfortunately, the field was coated with athick layer of snow which covered several treestumps, the remnants of earlier logging operationsin the area. The ensuing landing was brief and vio-lent.

As the aircraft settled onto the field, the rightlanding gear struck a stump; the impact tore off theright ski and caused the right engine to be torn outof its mounting on the wing. The impact also causedthe right wing to separate from the fuselage. Thefuselage abruptly swung to the right and quicklycame to a stop. Surprisingly, no one was injured. Themen could easily see that the aircraft would be inca-pable of flying without major repairs. They deter-mined that their best course of action was to seekassistance by walking back to the small town overwhich they had just flown. Unfortunately, recentsnow storms had deposited deep snow in the areaand no clear routes were evident. Determined toavoid spending the night in the woods, the menreached Alba as darkness fell. Due to the winterseason and the remote location, it was several daysbefore a crew with necessary equipment could besent to Alba, and a further delay was necessarybefore a path to the wreck could be cleared.Eventually the salvageable parts of the C–9 were


Lieutenant H. A. Johnson,second from right, briefsColonel Charles Donforth,Selfridge Field Com -mander, left, General FrankParker, Commander of 6thCorps Area, second fromleft, and Lieutenant PaulWolff, right, on new P–12Aircraft, Jun. 12, 1930.

SILLINS’RETURN ONFEBRUARY2D, OFFI-CIALLY CON-CLUDED THEFLIGHT OFTHE ARCTICPATROL AIR-CRAFT

trucked to the Ford plant at Dearborn, Michigan,and Lieutenant Johnson and the mechanicsreturned to Selfridge Field. Although the date ofLieutenant Johnson’s final return to Selfridge is notknown, it can be reasonably assumed that at least aweek passed before he was able to do so. Thus, thereturn of the final pilot associated with the ArcticPatrol can be estimated as February 10th. Assu -ming this is the date, the mission that was initiallyestimated to last 8 days actually required an entiremonth before the last person actively involved inthe operation returned to Selfridge Field. However,the official return date for the Arctic Patrol wasJanuary 29th, when Major Royce and sixteen of theseventeen pursuit pilots landed at Selfridge Field.

Results of the Flight

The results of the three main areas of the flightwere clear. The use of Prestone in the aircraftengine coolant was probably helpful in aircraftengine operation, although by itself, it was not suf-ficient to solve the problem of cold-weather enginestarts. The problem of cold weather engine startswas initially supposed to have been solved by anunknown version of engine heater that was carriedin the support aircraft. Unfortunately, the supportaircraft were rarely able to keep up with the pursuitaircraft, so those devices were not available to thepilots. And even when those engine heating deviceswere available, they did not perform satisfactorily.That problem was best dealt with by the belateddiscovery of the usefulness of the “plumbers’ pots,”those portable fire pots that plumbers used to heatsolder for pipe fittings; these were modified with theaddition of stove pipe sections to channel heatdirectly under the aircraft engines. The principle ofthe “plumber’s pots” was applied in later designs ofengine warming equipment.

The second area of concern, pilots’ personalequipment, also had its problems. The speciallydesigned leather flight suits were not useful inextreme cold weather, as the leather tended tostiffen, making pilots’ movements difficult in theair, but especially on the ground, when theyneeded to work around or on their engines and dis-covered that movement was very limited in below-zero degree temperatures. Other personal equip-ment, like glove and pocket warmers, also did notfunction satisfactorily. The third area of concernwas the ski apparatus attached to the aircraft. Thepilots discovered that ice- or snow-covered landingsurfaces were absolutely essential to operationallandings when skis were fitted on the aircraft.When the landing surfaces were clear of snow, thefriction caused by the skis’ contact with the groundmade aircraft controllability difficult if not impos-sible. Major Royce stated that the basic design ofthe ski system left something to be desired aswell.20

One important aspect of the flight was essen-tially untested: the ability to track aircraft progresswith the aid of short-range radio equipment wasnever able to be confirmed due to the maintenance

problems experienced by the radio C–9 aircraft.Delayed on its initial take-off from Selfridge Field, itnever caught up with any of the smaller pursuit air-craft until the aircraft had reached Minneapolis onthe return segment of the exercise, with the resultthat it was able to transmit little useful informationabout the progress of the flight until its route offlight was nearly complete. It seems evident, basedon the engine problems experienced by LieutenantJohnson and his crew, that those aircraft whichwere refueled at the airport at Manistique,Michigan, received fuel mixed with water, a combi-nation seriously impairing the operation of anyengine. The radio C–9, which had refueled atManistique on January 11th, must have alsoreceived polluted fuel, which would account for itsongoing engine problems. Thus, it could report onlyon its progress, which was hampered by delays, andnot on the progress of the other aircraft in the win-ter test flight. This must have been a disappoint-ment for those assigned to track the progress of theflight by radio.

A correspondent from Great Falls, Montana,later confirmed Major Royce’s assessment of theresults of his flight test when he reported that

it was remarkable that Major Royce was able to takehis squadron across country, and while the tripundoubtedly proved that there were many shortcom-ings in both the motor equipment and other equip-ment furnished the fliers, it equally proved that thespirit of the Air Service [actually at this time it wasthe Air Corps] was such that when they started aproject, no hardship could keep them from complet-ing it.21

The members of the First Pursuit Groupresponded with suitable humor to the achievementsof its pilots after their return. A representative fromthe 17th Pursuit Squadron recorded that “now thatthe snowbirds are back from Spokane,” thosesquadron pilots who had remained at Selfridge had“become resigned to listening to lies about how coldit was in Montana” but “reluctantly” acknowledgedthat all pilots in the squadron who participated hadindeed “covered themselves with glory and ice.” TheArmy Air Corps eventually acknowledged theefforts of the members of the Arctic Patrol by award-ing them the 1930 Mackay Trophy for participatingin the most meritorious flight of the year.

An interesting reference to the achievement ofthe Arctic Patrol can be found in From the GroundUp, by William Simonds and Fred Black. The bookdescribes the adventures of a young man named PatCallahan, who is given a guided tour of the variousaviation activities occurring in the Detroit area inthe winter of 1929 and 1930. One of his last stops isSelfridge Field, which he visits early in the spring of1930, where he meets Major Ralph Royce and alieutenant who participated in the Arctic Patrol.The Arctic Patrol was still a current topic, as thelieutenant tells Callahan that the Arctic Flight toSpokane and back was a “hard, cold battle” and thattaking “eighteen pursuit planes and two big trans-


IT WASREMARK-ABLE THATMAJORROYCE WASABLE TOTAKE HISSQUADRONACROSSCOUNTRY…THE TRIPUNDOUBT-EDLYPROVEDTHAT THEREWERE MANYSHORTCOM-INGS

ports over a front of thirty-five hundred miles insub-zero weather was no soft snap.” One newspaperaccount mentioned in the book says that the flight“was a combat in the front yard of the Arctic Circleagainst snow, ice, and cold” and that it “measuredthe endurance of the men and army equipment inthe hardest kind of weather.”22

There is little doubt that the Arctic Patrolproved to be a difficult and challenging experiencefor all concerned. Of the eighteen pilots involved,only seven appear to have survived the ordeal with-out significantly damaging themselves or their air-

craft. The names of these seven lieutenants deservespecial mention for their ability to avoid accidentsor personal injury while flying in extremely haz-ardous conditions: Rhudy, Henry, Wolf, Crawford,Wurtsmith, Harrington, and Jacobs. In addition, thepilot of one of the transport aircraft, LieutenantShanahan, pilot of the maintenance C–9, should berecognized for his ability to consistently accompanyand assist the pursuit pilots.

Of the eighteen pursuit pilots who participatedin the Arctic Patrol, eight subsequently achievedgeneral officer rank (Royce, Crawford, Putt,


Assistant Secretary of Warfor Aviation TrubeeDavison presents theMacKay Trophy and Medalto Major Ralph Royce forleading the most outstand-ing and meritorious flightof the Army for the year1930. Award was presentedSeptember 17, 1931.

THE ARMYAIR CORPSEVENTUALLYACKNOWL-EDGED THEEFFORTS OFTHE MEM-BERS OF THEARCTICPATROL BYAWARDINGTHEM THE1930 MACKAYTROPHY

Note: Details about the Arctic Patrol can be found inthe Air Service News Letter,Volume XIV, Number 1 (16January 1930) (pp. 13, 18); Number 2 (6 February1930) (pp. 31-37); Number 3 (5 March 1930) (pp. 54-55,59, 71-72); and Number 4 (31 March 1930) (p. 86).Supplementary details about the flight have beenobtained from New York Times newspaper articlesarchived in the NewYorkTimes.Com online web site.

1. “Curtiss P–1 Hawk.” Wikipedia.Com. 2. “Ice Coats Planes, Halts Army Flight.” New YorkTimes. Jan. 9, 1930.3. “History,” Prestone.Com. 4. Reginald Cleveland, “Contact,” New York Times,Jan. 19, 1930.5. Air Corps Newsletter, Vol 11, No 3. Mar. 10, 1927.6. “1st Operations Group.” Wikipedia.Com.7. “Chicago Daily Maximum/Minimum Tempera -tures for 1930.” ClimateStations.Com. 8. “Fargo Weather Almanac.” In-Forum.Com. 9. “Looking Back.” St. Ignace News. Feb. 27, 1930.StIgnaceNews.Com. 10. “Army Fliers Reach First Day’s Goal.” New YorkTimes. Jan. 11, 1930.

11. “Army Fliers Blocked.” New York Times. Jan. 16, 1930.12. “Four Army Planes Arrive at Spokane.” New YorkTimes. Jan. 18, 1930.13. “Army Flier Reports Bad Weather Flight.” NewYork Times. Jan. 21, 1930.14. Ibid.15. Air Corps News Letter, Vol. XIV, Number 2 (Feb. 6,1930), p. 34. 16. “Army ‘Snowbirds’ Come to Roost on HelenaAirport on Homeward Flight.” Helena Daily Indepen -dent. Jan. 22, 1930. HelenaHistory.Org. 17. Ibid. 18. “Stragglers Rejoin Army Arctic Patrol.” New YorkTimes. Jan. 27, 1930.19. “Army Snowbirds Arrive Home After Coast Trip.”The Billings Gazette. Jan. 30, 1930. HelenaHistory.Org.20. Ibid. 21. Air Corps News Letter, Vol. XIV, Number 3 (Mar. 5,1930), p. 59.22. William A. Simonds and Fred L. Black, From theGround Up (New York: Doubleday Doran, 1930), pp.256-57. 23. John Schamel, “How Pilot’s Checklist CameAbout.” Sep. 10, 2012. ATCHistory.Org.


NOTES

Sanders, Sillin, Underhill, Warburton, andWurtsmith), as did the pilot who flew the O–2Kobservation aircraft, Lieutenant (later General)Ennis Whitehead. At least five of the other pursuitpilots served during World War II (Henry, Bolen,Rhudy, Straubel, and Jacobs). The paths of two ofthe men, Putt and Giovanolli, crossed tragically in1935, when they were involved in the crash of oneof the prototype B–17 bombers at Wright Field,Dayton, Ohio. On October 30, 1935, LieutenantDonald Putt was a co-pilot of the XB–17 (Model299) when it crashed on takeoff due to locked con-trols. Two other pilots were on board. LieutenantGiovanolli, who happened to be on the field observ-ing the takeoff, helped to pull the other two pilots

clear of the burning wreck, while Putt was able toexit the aircraft without assistance. Unfortunately,both B–17 pilots later died as a result of theirinjuries. Putt, though burned, survived. Giovanolliwas scheduled to be given an award for his heroicactions but died in an aircraft accident before theaward was officially presented.23

This was the most challenging task which the1st Pursuit Group’s pilots and their P–1 aircrafthad to face. Soon after the Arctic Patrol returned toSelfridge, P–1s were no longer flown by the men ofthe First Pursuit Group. Later in 1930, the groupreceived newer, more powerful P–26 aircraft andflew these aircraft to the west coast to participatein army war maneuvers held there. �

O–2 Aircraft.

OF THE EIGH-TEEN PUR-SUIT PILOTSWHO PARTIC-IPATED INTHE ARCTICPATROL,EIGHT SUB-SEQUENTLYACHIEVEDGENERALOFFICERRANK


““BBaarr NNaappkkiinn”” TTaaccttiiccss,,CCoommbbaatt TTaaccttiiccaallLLeeaaddeerrsshhiipp iinnSSoouutthheeaasstt AAssiiaa


DDaarrrree ll DD.. WWhhiittccoommbb

I n December 1971, U.S. Air Force rescue crewsfrom the 40th Air Rescue and Recovery Squadron(ARRS) at Nakhon Phanom (NKP) Air Base,

Thailand, were scrambled to rescue an F–105Gcrew (Ashcan 01) and F–4 crew (Gunfighter 82)downed near Mu Gia pass and an F–4 crew (Falcon74) downed in northeastern Laos. All missions werelong, involved, and dangerous and tasked the crewsand machines to the limit. As a result of their effortsand the efforts of supporting A–1s and forward aircontrollers (FACs), one man from the F–105 andboth members of each of the F–4s were recoveredand sent home.

However, those successes were not just blindluck. They were the result of technological improve-ments made to rescue and support forces in the the-ater, and leavened with a great deal of tactical ini-tiative and leadership displayed by young officerswho flew those aircraft.1

Initially, the 40th was based at Udorn Air Base,Thailand. However, it was moved NKP in July 1971,giving its crews the ability to directly “liaise” withother key elements of the search and rescue (SAR)forces. The unit flew HH–53B/C helicopters. Six ofthe aircraft had been recently modified with aLimited Night Recovery System (LNRS) as part of aprogram called Pave Imp, and a Doppler navigationsystem. In theory, this equipment upgrade providedthe crews a basic capability to perform rescues innight and low visibility conditions, something whichwas long needed in the conflict. However, theDoppler was proving not to have the necessary nav-igational precision needed to get the helicopter intothe immediate area of the survivors, and design

engineers and commanders were looking for furtherimprovements.

Also located at NKP was the 1st SpecialOperations Squadron (SOS), the remaining U.S. AirForce A–1 unit. Its primary mission was SAR sup-port, and it kept several aircraft on alert at all timesfor SAR tasking.2

The 40th’s parent unit, the 3d Air Rescue andRecovery Group had a command and control centerthere, call sign Joker, which provided critical com-mand and control and liaison for the various SARforces. Joker had an intelligence section, and during1971, it established a critical intelligence link toTask Force Alpha (TFA), also located at NKP. TFAcommanded and controlled all of the sensorsimplanted along the Ho Chi Minh Trail and otherareas of SEA. The data that it was collecting couldbe very useful in real time for SAR missions. As mis-sions occurred, Joker began asking TFA for data,which it then began passing out to the rescue andsupport squadrons and/or briefing directly to thecrews as they prepared for their missions.Additionally, Joker procured secure radios, givingTFA the capability to pass intelligence via securevoice communications to the aircrews in their air-craft, which had compatible equipment. This nodewas in full bloom for the December SARs.3

Also stationed at NKP was the 23d Tactical AirSupport Squadron (TASS). This FAC unit currentlyflew the OV–10 and patrolled over large sections ofLaos and Cambodia. Like all FAC units, its pilotswere able to initiate and support SARs as a basicskill. Recently, though, fifteen of its OV–10s hadbeen highly modified with some new and exciting


Col. Darrel Whitcomb, USAF (Ret.), flew the OV–10 and O–1 as a Nail and Raven Forward Air Controllerin Southeast Asia from 1972-1974. He is a prolific writer of Air Force aviation and rescue history, and afrequent contributor to Air Power History. His most recent book, On a Steel Horse I Ride: A History ofthe MH–53 Pave Low Helicopters in War and Peace was published in 2013.

THOSE SUCCESSES… WERE THERESULT OFTECHNOLO -GICALIMPROVE-MENTS MADETO RESCUEAND SUPPORTFORCES INTHE THEATER

(Overleaf) A U.S. Air Forcepararescueman is loweredon a forest penetrator froma hovering 37th ARRSHH–53 helicopter during arescue mission inSoutheast Asia, June 1970.(USAF photo. Except wherenoted, all illustrations cour-tesy of the author.)

(Right) One of the proudA–1E Skyraider "Sandys."(Photo courtesy of Col.Fred Boli.)

PAVE SPOTWASDESIGNED TOPROVIDEMAGNIFICA-TION FORBETTERVISUALRECONNAIS-SANCEALONG THEHO CHI MINHTRAIL

technology. The aircraft were equipped with thePave Spot, an optical system that a weapons sys-tems operator (WSO) in the back seat of the OV–10operated. Pave Spot was designed to provide mag-

nification for better visual reconnaissance along theHo Chi Minh Trail.4

Built into the Pave Spot was a LASER designa-tion system that allowed the WSO to illuminate atarget with an energy beam so that a LASER-guided bomb (LGB) could track the beam to the des-ignated target. This system proved to be extremelyuseful against trucks and supplies along the trail. Itwas also effective for destroying antiaircraft guns,something of great use in SARs.

Additionally, these OV–10s were equipped witha Long Range Aid to Navigation (LORAN) system,a precise (for its day) navigational device integratedinto the Pave Spot system. When a target was des-ignated on the ground with a LASER beam, thecrew would get a LORAN readout on its exact loca-tion, which could be expressed in either a militarygrid system or geographical coordinates. Those coor-dinates could be passed to another LORAN-equipped aircraft. That aircraft could then be flownto that target point to drop bombs or cluster bombunits (CBU) on the position through the weatherwith reasonable accuracy. These CBUs also servedas area-denial ordnance that could protect the sur-vivor for a period of time until the rescue forcescould arrive.5

If the delivering LORAN equipped aircraftdropped an LGB on LORAN coordinates it couldand then be guided to the target by the LASER des-ignator on the “Pave Nail” OV–10s, as they came tobe called. The use of a LASER/LORAN combinedsystem proved an effective way to deliver bombsthrough the weather, for precision delivery as longas the Pave Nail crew could maintain visual contactwith the target and illuminate it with the Pave Spotsystem.6

This combination of LASER and LORAN capa-bility also gave the Pave Nail crews another criticalSAR capability. When they located downed airmen,they could use the system to determine their loca-


Nakhon Phanom AB washome to the Jollys, Sandys,and Nails in 1971-1972.

tion coordinates and then pass them to the rest ofthe rescue forces. The sensors in the Pave Spot sys-tem could also “see” the infrared strobes carried bydowned aircrews, giving them the ability to find sur-vivors at night—a useful tactical advantage.7

It did not take the crews long to realize thevalue of the LASER/LORAN combination not onlyin SAR situations for finding and pinpointing sur-vivors but also for leading non-LORAN-equippedaircraft at least to the area of the survivor, wherethey could then use their own limited navigationalsystems. Effectively, this meant that the Pave Nailcould provide the precision navigation that waslacking on the HH–53C helicopters recently modi-fied with the LNRS. While not the optimum solu-tion, certainly, this capability was a definite battle-field expedient until the HH–53s could be equippedwith LORAN or some other long-range precisionnavigational device.8

Very soon, young officers from the varioussquadrons at NKP were holding informal confer-

ences to compare tactics and to explore how thesenew technological advances could be used in theSAR arena. Such extemporaneous meetings led tomany “bar-napkin agreements” among the partici-pants as they jotted down their ideas in the variousunit “hootch bars.”

The Nails proposed that the Pave Nail aircraftshould be called in early in any SAR situation toquickly determine the exact survivor position. Theyeven developed a procedure whereby in badweather that prevented visual search, they coulduse a collection of automatic-direction-finding cutstaken from a survivor’s radio plotted from preciselyrecorded LORAN positions to calculate a locationwithin 1,000 meters—accurate enough to enableSAR operations in instrument flight rule (IFR) con-

ditions. The crews then used three-dimensional tac-tical maps of the area and literally planned a bestapproach to the survivor’s location through theweather, which could then be used by the JollyGreen crew in the Doppler system aboard a PaveImp–equipped aircraft.9

On December 9, 1971, SAR training was held atNKP for the first SAR qualified Pave Nail crewsunder the supervision of Capt. Dan Gibson andCapt. Rick Atchison from the 23d TASS. A mapexercise was held in the late afternoon. That nightAshcan 01 an F–105G was shot down by an SA–2missile, with apparently only one survivor, the pilot.OV–10 Pave Nails were launched during the nightto locate the survivor and prepare for a morning res-cue attempt. The survivor was located within a kilo-meter of the previous day’s map exercise area, butthe horrible weather shut down immediate rescueattempts. Aviators from the Jollies, Sandys, andNails met that night and developed a plan. A PaveNail OV–10 would be located to the south of the sur-


(Above) The OV–10 PaveNail. Their LASER andLORAN capabilities gavethe rescue forces newcapabilities.

(Right) HH–53 of the 40thARRS, sitting alert at aremote site. (Photo fromthe collection of Robert F.Dorr.)

IT DID NOTTAKE THECREWS LONGTO REALIZETHE VALUEOF THELASER/LORAN COM-BINATIONNOT ONLY INSAR SITUA-TIONS FORFINDING ANDPINPOINTINGSURVIVORS

vivor and a second Pave Nail aircraft would belocated to the west of the survivor. The Pave Impequipped HH–53 Jolly Green would use its Dopplersystem for overall area reference and then fly infrom the west and turn north toward the survivor.The Pave Nail south of the Jolly, using Jolly UHFradio bearings and azimuth to the survivor wouldhelp align the Jolly’s run-in heading to the F–105pilot, while the Pave Nail to the west would assistwith estimated range to the survivor. The plan wastaken to the SAR Command post. It was approved,and the details were worked out with the aircrewsscheduled for a first light attempt.

Capt. Randy Jayne of the 1st SOS was the on-scene-commander as the Jolly crew membersentered the recovery area. They spotted the body

of the F–105G WSO, but a flight surgeon aboardthe Jolly Green stated that he was clearly dead.No recovery attempt was made. Instead, theyoverflew him to get the pilot. The after-actionreport written for the SAR stated, “the coordina-tion between the Jolly, the Pave-Nail, and theSandy resumed as Jolly Green 30 continued toinch its way toward the [pilot] until a hover wasestablished over [the survivor]. Approximatelyone hour had been spent in mostly IFR weather.”The survivor then spotted them. He recalled, “Icould see the penetrator with the PJs comingdown, and I could see the bottom of the helicopter,but the top of it was in the clouds. I thought thatthe chopper pilot must be having one ‘helluva’tough time trying to hover there, with the gustywind, and him just about IFR. Anyway, they gotme on the penetrator and pulled me aboard.”10

The after-action report further continued toacknowledge the value of the Doppler system on theHH–53 and the added value of the Pave Nails. Itexplained how the ad hoc coordination between thevarious elements facilitated the recovery of the sur-vivor:

The SAR [task force] arrived back at the scene at[5:45 a.m.] . . . and awaited first light. Major [Ken]Ernest’s crew in Jolly Green 30 (Jolly Low) secured aDoppler fix [determined by a Pave Nail] from overthe survivor’s position to aid in returning to him and. . . descended through a hole in the clouds andbegan searching. Beginning his run-in to Ashcan01[A] from about two miles southwest, Major Ernestwas IFR, and required assistance in locating the


(Above) Capt. RandyJayne, of the 1st SOS,Celebrating Ashcan 01Search and Rescue suc-cess. (Photo courtesy ofCapt. Jayne.)

(Right) Priscilla’s Phoenix,personal aircraft of the 1stSOS commander, Maj. JimHarding. (Photo courtesyof Maj. Harding.)

THE AFTER-ACTIONREPORT FUR-THER CON-TINUED TOACKNOWL-EDGE THEVALUE OFTHEDOPPLERSYSTEM ONTHE HH–53

survivor. The assistance was provided by a Sandy[A–1] and Pave-Nail.11

These new procedures were used in a similarcombination a week later in the same area torecover the crew from Gunfighter 82, an F–4, shotdown at night by an SA-2. Both survivors werelocated at night by a Pave Nail using the IR filter onthe survivors’ strobe lights and the integratedLASER /LORAN system. Four A–1s led by Capt.Roger Youngblood, arrived at first light and took on-scene-command from the FAC. They escorted JollyGreen 30, commanded by Maj. Clyde Bennett, whopicked up both men.12

Falcon 74 was another USAF F–4, shot downon December 18, in northern Laos along the borderwith North Vietnam. The terrain was mountainousand the weather blocked a visual approach to thesurvivors. Rescue operations were hampered byNorth Vietnamese MiG–21s which were active inthe area. When the two survivors were located,heavy weather again prevented a quick rescue.Instead, Pave Nails used their LASER / LORANsystems to design protection boxes into whichLORAN equipped aircraft could deliver area denial

ordnance, to include a riot control agent, throughthe heavy weather to protect the survivors. TheSandys were able to lead a Jolly Green into the val-ley. However, the helicopter was damaged by enemyguns and had to divert to a friendly base in Laos.13

Captains Randy Jayne and Lloyd Welken of the1st SOS flew as the Sandy leads. Working withintelligence specialists, they and Pave Nail crewsused three dimensional maps to design an instru-ment approach that the Pave Nails could fly to leadthe Sandys and Jollies down through the weatherinto the valley in which the survivors were located.Pave Nail FAC, Capt. Ian Cooke of the 23d TASSwas then able to guide the rescue force through theweather using the instrument approach procedure.As the Sandys circled above, Jolly Green 55, com-manded by Capt. Harold Jones, was able to recoverboth men, although, the crew had to wear gasmasks to protect them from some of the riot controlagent which had been dropped near one of the sur-vivors.14

Soon, these procedures were codified and coor-dinated with more precise intelligence to furtherheighten their effectiveness. For the Sandy, JollyGreen and Nail crews, these missions showed thatthe new LNRS, Pave Spot and LORAN systems,while clearly recognized as limited tools, could stillbe used in unforeseen ways to affect successfulrecoveries, even when facing stiff enemy opposition.The evolving technology was a clear advancement ofcapabilities, especially when it was combined witheager and smart young operators who would pushthe technology well beyond intended uses and lim-its. It was also testimony to the inventiveness andcreativity of young aircrews from the various


(Top) OV–10 wingtip hit byNorth Vietnamese anti-air-craft artillery.

(Above) Inflight refuelingfrom the HC–130 "King"aircraft was critical to therescue forces

WORKINGWITH INTEL-LIGENCESPECIALISTS,THEY ANDPAVE NAILCREWS USEDTHREEDIMEN-SIONALMAPS TODESIGN ANINSTRUMENTAPPROACH

1. Whitcomb, Darrel, On a Steel Horse I Ride: A His toryof the MH–53 Pave Low Helicopters in War and Peace,(Maxwell AFB, Ala.: Air University Press, 2013), p. 36.2. Ibid., p. 37.3. Ibid.4. History of the 23d Tactical Air Support Squadron,1 July – 30 Sept 1971, in History of the 504th TacticalAir Support Group, vol 3, pp. 3-6.5. Whitcomb, Darrel, “PAVE NAIL: there at theBeginning of the Precision Weapons Revolution,” AirPower History, Spring 2011, pp. 21-23.6. Atchison, Rick, email to author, Sep. 21, 2014. Hewas a lead Weapons System Officer (WSO) in the 23dTASS and flew on these missions. 7. Ibid.8. Whitcomb, Darrel, “PAVE NAIL: there at theBeginning of the Precision Weapons Revolution,” AirPower History, Spring 2011, pp. 21-23.9. Ibid.

10. Ernest, Maj. Kenneth, “Craziest SAR I’ve EverSeen,” Jolly Green Association website. www.jolly-green.org/Stories/stories.htm; accessed Feb. 4, 2014.11. Ibid.12. Atchison email; History of the 40th ARRS, 1 Oct –31 Dec 1971, Maxwell AFB, Ala., Mission narrative.Also; Hobson, Chris, Vietnam Air Losses, (Hinckley,England; Midland Publishing, 2001), p. 217; 13. History of the 1st SOS, in History of the 56thSpecial Operations Wing,, Oct – Dec 1971, MaxwellAFB, Ala., Mission narrative, n.p. 14. Atchison email; Jayne, Maj. Gen. (ret) Randy,email to author, Sept. 19, 2014. Also, History of the40th ARRS, 1 Oct – 31 Dec 971, Maxwell AFB, Ala.,Mission narrative.15. Letter, Col. Jack Robinson, 56th SOW Com -mander to 7AF/CC, subject: Improvements to Searchand Rescue (SAR) Capabilities, Dec. 30, 1971, inHistory of the 56th SOW, 1 Oct – 31 Dec 1971, vol 2.


NOTES

squadrons who were able and willing to take it intobattle.

All of this was captured by the NKP wing com-mander, Col. Jack Robinson, who wrote of theseamazing events directly to the Seventh Air Forcecommander, now Gen. John Lavelle:

Recent introduction of sophisticated navigationand ordnance delivery systems designed for IFRconditions . . . have major implications for USAFrescue capabilities.

. . . The PAVENAIL can lead the helicopterdirectly over the survivor and provide a zero refer-ence for the Jolly’s Doppler navigation system. This

technique permitted the rescue of Ashcan 01[A] . . .in IFR conditions, and the PAVE IMP instrumenta-tion proved invaluable in this situation.

. . . TFA sensor monitoring provided real-timetargeting of traffic attempting to move through theroute structure into the survivor’s location.15

Subsequently, throughout the tumultuous bat-tles of 1972, this combination of evolving technol-ogy combined with creative and savvy young air-men was utilized numerous times to recoverdowned U.S. and allied airmen across the breadthand depth of Southeast Asia. All facilitated, ofcourse, by a handy supply of bar-napkins. �

(Left) Capt. Rick Atchisonof the 23d TASS, one of the"young tigers" who made itall work. (Photo courtesy ofCapt. Atchison.)

(Right) OV–10s flown bythe Nail FACs were a keycomponent of the rescuetask force.

FACILITATED,OF COURSE,BY A HANDYSUPPLY OFBAR-NAPKINS


John T. Farquhar

ArcticLinchpin: The Polar Conceptin American Air Atomic Strategy,1946-1948

United States Plans for a Postwar Overseas MilitaryBase System, 1942-1948, Elliott Converse depicted aconceptual battle between visions of the UnitedStates as a regional, or hemispheric, power and theU.S. as a global force. In the June 1944 revision ofthe Army Air Force’s Initial Postwar Air Force Plan(IPWAF), Col R. C. Moffat, Chief of the Post WarDivision, argued that even though Alaska is close toeastern Siberia, “it is far distant from the sources ofSoviet power.” The IPWAF called for outposts inAlaska “purposely not strong enough to constitute adagger pointed at the Soviet heart or at Europe, butdo provide routes for reinforcement . . . [and] consti-tute a deterrent to offensive action aimed at thewestern hemisphere.”4 Along the same lines, aDecember 1945 Joint Chiefs of Staff (JCS) docu-ment, “An Outline Plan for the MilitaryDevelopment of Alaska,” emphasized the low proba-bility of conflict between the U.S. and U.S.SR:

The Soviet capability to launch a major operationagainst the Alaskan Area in the next five years isestimated to be almost nil; . . . it does not appear nec-essary to station air forces or ground force combattroops in the Alaskan Area except for training,acclimatization, experimental purposes, limitedreconnaissance and surveillance, and for limitedlocal defense of selected bases.5

In stark contrast, prominent airmen embraced“the Polar Concept” as central to their postwarvision. In a February 1946 National Geographicmagazine article, “Air Power for Peace,” General ofthe Army H[enry] H. Arnold argued, “A surpriseattack could readily come from across the roof of theworld unless we are in possession of adequate air-bases outflanking such a route of approach.”6 Heargued that any danger to the United States mustcome from north of thirty degrees north latitude andthat with 5,000-mile-radius bombers, U.S. air forcescould cover practically all danger spots in Europe orAsia. Conversely, by the polar route similar enemyplanes would threaten our principal industrial cen-ters.7 To further illustrate the point, the NationalGeographic issue featured a polar projection map ofthe Northern Hemisphere with air distancesbetween major cities based on trans-polar routes.

The Polar Concept meshed with the “airatomic” or strategic air warfare vision stronglyadvocated by senior Air Force leaders. In someways, General Arnold’s National Geographic articleserved as a manifesto of their beliefs: “With presentequipment, an enemy air power can, without warn-ing, pass over all formerly visualized barriers or“lines of defense” and can deliver devastating blowsat our population centers and our industrial, eco-


With the Japanese surrender on the deck ofthe U.S.S Missouri on August 14, 1945,American civil and military leaders faced

a bewildering array of problems: unaccustomedworld leadership, a potential renewed economicdepression, demobilization, structuring postwarnational defense, the breakup of European colonial-ism, and signs of an impending Cold War. Amongthe postwar strategic visions, American air leadersadvanced an “air atomic strategy” based on per-ceived lessons from World War II and the terriblepotential of the atomic bomb, viewed by many as aweapon that revolutionized warfare. As Cold Warhostilities increased, American war planningadopted strategic air warfare as a primary compo-nent. Yet, the problem of transforming a strategicconcept into operational and tactical realitiesremained. At the heart of the issue in geographic,strategic, and conceptual terms emerged theAmerican territory of Alaska and what becameknown as the “Polar Concept,” the idea that theshortest, most direct, and least defended routebetween U.S. bases and Soviet targets involved fly-ing great circle routes over the Arctic and NorthPole. By examining Air Force efforts in 1946-1948 topioneer Arctic flying, map the vast northernreaches, and plot possible transpolar bomber routes,Alaska emerged as the linchpin of American airatomic strategy. The role of arctic aerial reconnais-sance during the early Cold War also served as acase study of military innovation, problem solving,and the limits of Air Force strategic theory.

Awareness of Alaska’s strategic importancefirst appeared with interwar thinking about thegrowing threat of Japan. Most notable, Brig. Gen.William “Billy” Mitchell called attention to a greatcircle route from the United States to Alaska andthe Aleutian Islands, to Kamchatka, the KurileIslands, and to Japan.1 In a manuscript, “American,Air Power, and the Pacific,” Mitchell claimed Alaskaas the key to a strategic bombing campaign againstvulnerable Japanese cities in an inevitable andimminent war.2 Likewise, seizing Alaskan basesoffered Japan an attack avenue to the United Statesas dramatized by World War II’s significant, butunheralded, Aleutian campaign. Before hostilities,the U.S. Army and Navy recognized Alaska’s geo-graphic significance and resource potential and con-structed military, naval, and air bases at Adak,Anchorage, Fairbanks, and other locations.Fairbanks, in particular, served as an experimentalcold weather station where winter temperaturesdropped to as low as minus seventy-two degrees F.3

Postwar military base planning varied over therelative importance of Alaska to U.S. nationaldefense concepts. In his book, Circling the Earth:

(Overleaf) Working in tem-peratures as low as -50degrees, 46thReconnaissance Squadronmaintenance personnelwere the unsung heroes ofAlaskan aerial reconnais-sance.

John T. Farquhar was graduated from the Air Force Academy and flew as a navigator in the RC–135reconnaissance aircraft with the Strategic Air Command. With a Master’s Degree in U.S. DiplomaticHistory from Creighton University and a Ph.D. in American Military History from Ohio State, Dr.Farquhar has taught courses in military history, air power, and military & strategic studies at the UnitedStates Air Force Academy. In 2004, he published ANeed to Know: The Role of Air Force Reconnaissancein War Planning, 1945-1953.

ALASKA’SGEOGRAPHICSIGNIFI-CANCE ANDRESOURCEPOTENTIALAND CON-STRUCTED …BASES ATADAK,ANCHORAGE,FAIRBANKS,AND OTHERLOCATIONS.FAIRBANKS,IN PARTICU-LAR, SERVEDAS ANEXPERIMEN-TAL COLDWEATHERSTATION

nomic, or government heart even before our surfaceforces can be employed.” He believed that theatomic bomb made air power all-important, the pri-mary requisite of national survival: “Air power pro-vides not only the best present means of striking theenemy with atomic bombs, but also the best avail-able defense against them.”8

On March 21, 1946, the Army Air Forces soughtto operationalize strategic air warfare by creatingthe Strategic Air Command (SAC). Its mission wasstraight forward:

The Strategic Air Command will be prepared to con-duct long-range offensive operations in any part of theworld either independently or in cooperation withland and Naval forces; to conduct maximum rangereconnaissance over land or sea either independentlyor in cooperation with land and Naval forces; to pro-vide combat units capable of intense and sustainedcombat operations employing the latest and mostadvanced weapons; to train units and personnel forthe maintenance of the Strategic Forces in all parts ofthe world; to perform such special missions as theCommanding General, Army Air Forces may direct.9

The creation of SAC institutionalized the Air Force’sconviction that strategic bombing played a vital, ifnot decisive, role in winning World War II.

As strategic air campaigns in World War IIshowed, there was a vast gulf between the vision ofstrategic air warfare and the reality of Europe’sCombined Bomber Offensive and the strategicbombing campaign against Japan. Similarly, vastuncharted miles of polar ice cap, freezing tempera-tures, magnetic anomalies that jeopardized naviga-tion, unknown winds, and other significant, practi-cal obstacles presented significant challenges to thePolar Concept as described in postwar air atomicstrategy. Although a handful of daring explorersflew across Arctic regions in the 1920s and 1930s, nopractical means of arctic air travel existed.

In an attempt to bridge the operational gaps,the War Department General Staff initiated a topsecret Project No. 5, codenamed Operation FLOOD-LIGHT, to conduct aerial reconnaissance of theArctic. Army Chief of Staff General Dwight D.Eisenhower approved the concept, and General CarlA. Spaatz as Commanding General, Army AirForces, directed the new Strategic Air Command(SAC) to lead the effort. On June 14, 1946, SACordered the deployment of the 46th ReconnaissanceSquadron to Ladd Field, near Fairbanks, Alaska, aspart of Project NANOOK.10

From August 1946 until October 1947, the 46thReconnaissance Squadron, under the command ofMaj. Maynard E. White, tested the feasibility of trans-polar operations and arctic flying. In compliance withProject NANOOK, 46th crews conducted visual andradar photography of the arctic ice pack, Alaska, andthe Canadian Archipelago. The mission directedcrews to search for previously undiscovered landmasses, accumulate meteorological data, record mag-netic variation, and explore potential air routes.11 Inthe first month of operations in August 1946, the 46thflew thirty photo missions, yet even before onset of fullwinter, icing and other weather conditions hamperedoperations. The 46th Recon naissance Squadron flewF–13A reconnaissance aircraft (Boeing B–29s modi-fied for aerial photography) and discovered that cam-eras installed in unpressurized areas froze and wereimpossible to maintain.12 These early flights encoun-tered ice that formed on propeller hubs that wouldbreak off and damage the aircraft’s skin. The cold alsorequired oil-lubricant changes and eventually thirty-six additional modifications to the planes.13 Makingmatters worse, December 1946 marked one of thecoldest months on record, including a span of thirtydays with temperatures never higher than minus fiftydegreesF. In an assessment of the arctic flying efforts,Mr. Carroll L. Zimmerman, Strategic Air Command’sChief of Ope rations Analysis concluded: “One of thelarge lessons learned in this winter’s operations inAlaska is that AAF knows how to operate aircraft inflight at any temperature, but it does not know how topreserve and maintain aircraft on the ground atextreme temperatures with limited facilities.”14Nevertheless, drawing upon the ingenuity and forti-tude of the maintenance and support personnel andthe courage of aircrews, the 46th eventually con-quered the elements.

Overcoming the unique challenges of polar nav-igation through the development of grid navigation


General Arnold’s 1946National Geographic articleincluded a polar projectionmap of the NorthernHemisphere.

THE CREATION OFSAC INSTITU-TIONALIZEDTHE AIRFORCE’SCONVICTIONTHATSTRATEGICBOMBINGPLAYED AVITAL …ROLE IN WIN-NING WORLDWAR II

procedures marked a significant advancement inmaking the Polar Concept a reality. As was sug-gested, early arctic flights were a hit-or-miss affairdue to the unreliability of magnetic compasses nearthe magnetic North Pole. Before their deployment,none of the 46th’s thirty-five navigators had everbeen north of the 50th parallel or had attemptedpolar navigation techniques. Hence, in the words of1st Lt Wayland W. Williams, “Know-how on the sub-ject was accumulated and dispensed as rapidly andthoroughly as possible.”15 Project NANOOK flightsutilized electronic, gyro-stabilized compasses thatessentially created an artificial “North” not depen-dent on the earth’s magnetic field. This grid naviga-tion technique had been developed by British,Canadian, and American navigators earlier, but hadremained largely theoretical until ProjectNANOOK. Navigators used celestial navigation todetermine True North and then adjusted the elec-tronic, gyro-stabilized compass for precession andother technical errors. Additionally, the crews mea-sured magnetic variation that combined with aerialphotography to create usable flying charts.16

As aerial reconnaissance advanced in 1946 and1947, Project NANOOK accomplished the fourtasks associated with Operation FLOODLIGHTand added two related photo-mapping projects:Project 14 and Operation EARDRUM. Sorties

mapped Area “A” (between 160 and 180 degreesEast Longitude and 73 and 77 degrees NorthLatitude), Area “B” (north and east of A), Area “C”(the route between Alaska and Iceland also knownas Operation POLARIS), and Area “D” (the areabetween 85 degrees North Latitude and the NorthPole).17 In late 1946, Operation POLARIS increasedin scope to include photography on the northernCanadian Archipelago. Aircrews from the RoyalCanadian Air Force flew with the 46th Recon -naissance Squadron for these missions.18 Along thesame lines, during the summer of 1947, SAC addedOperation EARDRUM, the tri-metrogon photomap-ping of Greenland.19

Exploring a feasible air route between Alaskaand Iceland addressed a major postwar issue linkedto the Polar Concept. During World War II,President Franklin D. Roosevelt and others viewedcommercial aviation as a key to future economicprosperity. Regular air travel between Alaska andthe continental United States would reduceAlaska’s isolation and in turn, commercial aviationbetween Alaska and points in Europe and Asiapromised trade, travel, and profit. Civil and militaryleaders looked to Pan American Airline’s prewarsuccess in Latin America. Hence, OperationPOLARIS’s creation of a viable Alaska-Iceland airroute foreshadowed greater economic develop -ment.20 In strategic terms, some analysts viewedthe establishment of air bases akin to Alfred ThayerMahan’s advocacy of coaling stations in the Age ofSteam.21 Thus, Operations POLARIS andEARDRUM fit into the economic developmentdimension of polar flying operations.

Paralleling the rise of Cold War tensions in 1947,Alaskan-based aerial reconnaissance increasinglyfocused on assessing Soviet military capabilities. InFebruary 1947, the Chief of Naval Operations, FleetAdmiral Chester W. Nimitz requested a formal studyof “Russian air capabilities for defense against strate-gic bombardment within the next five years.”22 Froma bureaucratic perspective, the study representedammunition in the inter-service battle for decliningdefense budgets, with the U.S. Navy seeking justifi-cation for the 65,000-ton supercarrier, U.S.S UnitedStates, capable of launching nuclear-armed bombers,and independence-minded Air Force leaders viewingstrategic air warfare as the primary mission for anew service.23 At the strategic policy level, the Sovietcapabilities request underscored the dearth of reli-able intelligence needed for a strategic air campaign.Specifically, planners needed information on Sovietexploitation of German rocket and jet technology,indigenous Soviet aviation technology, radar andantiaircraft capabilities and coverage, air defenseand fighter bases, communications, and the otherplanning details.24

Building on “Radar Countermeasures” (RCM)missions of World War II, Alaskan-based electronicreconnaissance, known as “ferret,” missions soughtinformation on Soviet radars in Siberia and theArctic. In January 1947, technicians at Wright Field(later Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, Ohio) modi-fied a Boeing B–29 [Tail number 45-21812] by


Extreme cold weather fly-ing and maintenance oper-ations challenged the 46thand 72nd ReconnaissanceSquadrons duringOperation NANOOK.

PROJECTNANOOKFLIGHTS UTI-LIZED ELEC-TRONIC,GYRO-STABI-LIZED COM-PASSESTHAT ESSEN-TIALLY CRE-ATED ANARTIFICIAL“NORTH”

tional long-range ferret aircraft now designated asRB–29s. In addition, the new USAF shifted controlof arctic reconnaissance from SAC to the AlaskanAir Command (AAC) and the 46th ReconnaissanceSqua dron was renumbered as the 72d Reconnais -sance Squadron, still commanded by Major May -nard White. Operations NANOOK, POLARIS, andEARDRUM continued their aerial photography andphotomapping assignments until completion nearthe end of 1948.28

Worries over possible atomic strikes by “SovietB–29s” flying one-way missions over polar regionsfocused Alaskan-based reconnaissance on thepotential of Soviet air bases on Siberia’s ChukotskiPeninsula.29 Lying directly opposite Alaska’sSeward Peninsula, early Cold War Air Force intelli-gence estimates considered the Chukotski Penin -sula as the most likely area for Soviet long-rangebomber bases. The Air Force Directorate ofIntelligence assessed the Soviets capable of produc-ing reverse-engineered B–29 type bombers in April1946 and called attention to fifty-four sightings ofSoviet B–29 type aircraft between October 1946 andNovember 1947.30 In addition, one memorandumestimated 200 Soviet aircraft opposite Alaska,including 100 fighters, fifty attack, and fifty lightbombers. It cited one paved airfield of 6,000-footlength and four other unpaved airfields of 4,500feet, capable of extension to 6,000 feet. The analysisestimated that from Chukotski fields the Russianscould operate “300 bombers or sufficient troop car-rier aircraft to lift 7,000 paratroops to a radius of700 nautical miles, (the distance to Fairbanks).”31Despite the dire intelligence picture, Air Force andState Department officials fully understood thepolitical consequences of aerial reconnaissance ofthe Chukotski Peninsula: “Overflying sovereignSoviet territory to procure vertical photographiccoverage is certain to be construed by the USSR. asa warlike act.” 32

The problem of Soviet (B–29s) Tu–4s flownfrom Chukotski Peninsula airfields illustrated thetactical, operational, and strategic challenges facedby the Alaskan Air Command. The issue pitted agap in strategic intelligence against significantdiplomatic and political consequences associatedwith the needed photographic aerial reconnais-sance. At an operational level, two additional TopSecret projects attempted to address the Chukotskiconcerns, yet balance negative political conse-quences. In Project 20, the 72d ReconnaissanceSquadron flew semi-monthly missions from PointBarrow to the tip of the Aleutian Chain by way ofthe Bering Strait. Intended for intelligence and sur-veillance, Headquarters USAF Air Intelligencedirected the aircraft to photograph any objects orunusual activity. Although similar in intent, Project23 focused primarily on ferret operations againstSoviet radar. Beginning in October 1947, and fea-turing two aircraft each mission, Project 23 coveredthe north and south coasts of Siberia adjacent toAlaska. One aircraft flew at high altitude near theSoviet coastline while a second aircraft flew parallelseveral miles out to sea. 33


adding specialized radar detection and analysisequipment. Known initially as “the ELINT B–29,”and nicknamed “Sitting Duck” by its crew, the ferretaircraft deployed to Ladd Field on May 21, 1947,under command of pilot Capt. Landon Tanner, SACproject officer Capt. Les Manbeck, and seniorElectronic Warfare Officer (EWO or “Raven”) Capt.Robert Perry.25 After arctic and polar flying train-ing, including a flight to the North Pole on June 5th,the “Sitting Duck” flew eleven electronic reconnais-sance missions. Interestingly, Captain Perry repor -ted receiving rather vague guidance from higherheadquarters: “Nobody gave me a briefing on whatwas where or what they wanted or anything. Theyjust said, ‘Go and see what radars are there.’ Thatwas all.”26 By mid-August 1947, the ELINT B–29explored the northern Siberian coast, the BeringStrait, the southern Siberian coast along theKamchatka peninsula. The six Raven crew mem-bers identified a small number of Soviet RU.S.-2radars along the coast of the Soviet Far East, but nosignals in the Soviet arctic. Warned to stay fifteenmiles from Soviet territory, on at least one occasionthe crew overflew the Soviet landmass. Captain RobPerry explained that on a mission into Anadyr Bay,he noticed that the radar showed them overland,when he called the navigators, they explained:“Well, we’ve hit a reverse jet stream and we’re try-ing to get out. It’s carried us inland about 50 milesand we’re making about 20 knots ground speed try-ing to get out.” Captain Perry recalled that theyspotted some airfields with “nothing on them” andeventually returned to course uneventfully.27 Uponcompletion of approximately 150 flying hours of fer-ret reconnaissance, the “Sitting Duck” and crewreturned to Andrews Army Air Field for debriefing.The success of the ELINT B–29 encouraged thenewly established United States Air Force (USAF),activated on September 18, 1947, to create addi-

72nd ReconnaissanceSquadron personnel down-load a camera from an RB-29. Film magazines wereloaded into the cart on theright

NOBODYGAVE ME ABRIEFING ONWHAT WASWHERE ORWHAT THEYWANTED ORANYTHING.THEY JUSTSAID, “GOAND SEEWHATRADARS ARETHERE”

The initial attempts to resolve the initialChukotski dilemma failed for tactical and technicalreasons. Although Project 23 sorties provided valu-able information on Soviet radar defenses, aerialphotography of Soviet air bases proved inadequate.Despite the Alaskan Air Command’s interpretationof the territorial restriction for Project 23 missionsas the international limit of three miles (versus thetwelve-mile limit backed by the U.S. StateDepartment), the RB–29’s short focal-length K-20cameras provided limited photographic range.Consequently, a December 1947 air intelligencememo randum assessed that the missions hadresulted in oblique photos (cameras placed at anangle to provide a panoramic view) of very poorquality with no significant intelligence value. Likeearlier challenges of cold weather flying and gridnavigation, arctic aerial reconnaissance still faced asignificant tactical problem to achieve the opera-tional mission.

On January 8, 1948, the Soviets emphasizedthe political risk of aerial reconnaissance by issuinga formal diplomatic protest for a December 23, 1947mission. The Soviet Embassy claimed that anAmerican airplane flew for seven miles along thecoast of the Chukotski Peninsula at a distance twomiles from the shore and requested an investigationand measures to prevent further violations.34

At State Department insistence, HeadquartersU.S. Air Force conducted an investigation thatshowed the aircraft as a 72d Reconnaissance Squa -dron RB–29 flying a Project 23 mission. The officialU.S. response acknowledged that an American air-craft was in the vicinity, but declared, “No landbelonging to the Soviets was overflown and it can-not be determined that the Soviet frontier was vio-lated. There are indications that the pilot of the air-craft may not have complied with the Departmentof State’s limitation, . . . of 12 miles from the terri-tory other than the United States.”35 Although theincident did not escalate into a major diplomatic cri-sis, it communicated the significant consequences ofarctic probes of Soviet air defenses and foreshad-owed future incidents. The investigation of theSoviet protest also revealed gaps betweenHeadquarters U.S. Air Force guidance influenced bythe Department of State, Alaskan Air Command’sdirectives regarding the closest point of approach toSoviet territory, and actual instructions issued to72d Reconnaissance Squadron air crews.36

The Berlin Crisis of 1948 dramatized the dan-ger of inadequate strategic intelligence and paral-leled the political tensions over arctic aerial recon-naissance. Within weeks of a Communist coup inCzechoslovakia, the Soviets moved to close highway,rail, and river access to Berlin on April 1, 1948,ostensibly for “technical difficulties.” This act cas-caded into a major diplomatic crisis, the BerlinAirlift, and increased worries over a potentialatomic war.37 President Harry S Truman viewed thecrisis and blockade as a test of Western resolve andpatience.38 Fortunately, the Berlin Airlift’s success-ful application of non-kinetic air power allowed timefor the political crisis to diffuse, but increased ColdWar tensions focused attention on both the offensiveand defensive assumptions of strategic air warfareand the Polar Concept. Trans-polar routes served asan offensive path for American bombers for futureatomic war, but they also suggested the possibilityof a surprise Soviet attack, an atomic Pearl Harborwith no-notice or means of defense.

Making matters worse from an operational andtactical viewpoint, tensions from the Berlin Crisisprompted the U.S. State Department to limit aerialreconnaissance missions to a forty-mile buffer fromSoviet territory effective May 14, 1948.39 Senior offi-cials faced a dilemma: determining the suitability ofChukotski airfields for Soviet B–29s constituted atop priority for strategic intelligence and militaryplanners, yet the Berlin Crisis sparked tensions anda genuine war scare. Because of the tactical limita-tions of existing cameras, the Air Force Directorateof Intelligence and Alaskan Air Command wantedthe limits reduced ideally to the internationally rec-ognized limit of three miles, or as a fallback, theSoviet declared twelve-mile limit for its territorialwaters, while the U.S. State Department sought aforty-mile limit to avoid provoking the Soviets.40During this internal Air Force-Department of Statedebate, another strategic air power vision capturedheadlines.

Reminiscent of General Arnold’s “Air Power forPeace,” retiring Air Force Chief of Staff General CarlA. Spaatz articulated atomic war fears in two Lifemagazine articles in July and August 1948. In “IfWe Should Have to Fight Again,” Spaatz recon-firmed the lessons of World War II by citing conclu-sions from the U.S. Strategic Bombing Survey:

Even a first-class military power . . . cannot live longunder full-scale and free exploitation of air weaponsover the heart of its territory. . . . For the future it isimportant fully to grasp the fact that enemy air-planes enjoying control of the sky over one’s head canbe as disastrous to one’s country as its occupation byphysical invasion.41

He tied these lessons to the Berlin Crisis by observ-ing that a force of B–29s deployed to the UnitedKingdom “created an impression of purpose, resolu-tion and strength far beyond their numbers. Indeedit is difficult to understand what does restrain theRussians from seizing Berlin, unless it is respect forAmerican air power.”42


Although designated theTupolev Tu-4, “the SovietB-29” threatened Americansecurity.

IT IS DIFFI-CULT TOUNDER-STAND WHATDOESRESTRAINTHERUSSIANSFROM SEIZ-ING BERLIN,UNLESS IT ISRESPECTFORAMERICANAIRPOWER

In the event the B–29 deterrence and BerlinAirlift failed to prevent war, Spaatz argued that asea blockade would be “ineffectual against aselF–contained heartland power like Russia” andthat a land war would be problematic; approachesfrom the south, north, east, and west blocked by dis-tance, terrain, and climate. He cited WinstonChurchill’s advice, “If you should ever go to war withRussia, whatever you do never try to invade thatcountry’s vast space.”43 Therefore, a future warwould feature an air atomic strategy: “the precisionbombing of a few hundred square miles industrialarea in a score of Russian cities would fatally crip-ple Russian industrial power.”44

In August 1948’s “Phase II Air War,” Spaatzalerted the American public to the dangers of aSoviet “flash” attack. He explained that U.S.national security in the atomic age would consist ofthree phases: Phase I consisted of a U.S. monopolyon the atomic bomb; In Phase II other nationswould possess the bomb; and Phase III described afuture of possible intercontinental war with super-

sonic planes and guided missiles. Spaatz’s articlereinforced the Polar Concept: “If war breaks out inPhase II, then, we must be prepared for the possi-bility that the Russians would send against us astriking force of some hundreds of long-rangebombers. . . launched against us in secrecy and prob-ably carry atomic bombs.” He stated the bomberswould strike from the east coast of Siberia and fromMurmansk across the polar ice cap and penetrateAmerican defenses.45

In both Life articles, intended for a mass audi-ence, General Spaatz voiced a previously classifiedconcern of air intelligence analysts: Soviet B–29type bombers flown from Siberian bases. In his Julyarticle, Spaatz described the Soviet internment ofthree intact U.S. B–29s during the latter months ofWorld War II and evidence of Soviet attempts toreverse engineer the aircraft. He then describedreports of Russian B–29 type airplanes being spot-ted over Moscow which were then confirmed at the1948 May Day parade: “Although there were only 10“B–29s” in this parade, there is reason to believethat the Russians now possess several hundred ofthem and are manufacturing more at a fairly goodrate.”46 Spaatz summarized the danger by observ-ing that from Murmansk or Siberia practicallyevery major U.S. “industrial area” fell within theirone-way range.47 Although critics might be temptedto dismiss General Spaatz’s articles as mere hyper-bole to maintain Congressional funding for the newB–50 and B–36 bombers entering service in 1948,the articles not only summarized some Air Forceintelligence assessments, but emphasized theimportance of photographing the ChukotskiPeninsula airfields.48

Faced with a strategic imperative articulated byGeneral Spaatz and an operational dilemma regard-ing limits to approaching Soviet territory, an unex-pected tactical solution emerged that solved yetanother practical problem associated with the PolarConcept. Searching for answers to the limits of shortfocal-length aerial cameras, Air Material Command’sColonel George W. Goddard led a team that producednew experimental cameras of 48-, 60-, and 100-inchfocal length. These new cameras offered a technolog-


Legendary in Air Force aer-ial photography, George W.Goddard’s team at AirMaterial Command devel-oped long-range, 100-inchcamera.

46th ReconnaissanceSquadron RB-29s at LaddField, Alaska in 1946 or1947

CHURCHILL’SADVICE, “IFYOU SHOULDEVER GO TOWAR WITHRUSSIA,WHATEVERYOU DONEVER TRYTO INVADETHAT COUN-TRY’S VASTSPACE”

ical solution: a series of special missions flown with atwenty-mile restriction from Soviet territory and theuse of Goddard’s new, experimental 100-inch cameraon loan from Air Material Command.49 Flown inOctober and November 1948, the missions examined

the southern Soviet shore from approximately 179o Eto a point on the northern shore 175o E, includingWrangel Island.50

The long-range aerial photography of theChukotski Peninsula quickly abated the immediateworries of a Soviet B–29 attack. The photographsrevealed that the Soviet airfields in question werenot suitable for imminent bomber operations. Theresults confirmed an August 1948 SAC AirIntelligence Briefing that downgraded the threat ofairfields at Uelen, Bukhta Providenya, and Anadyron the Chukotski Peninsula and bases in thePetropavlovsk-Northern Kuriles (much farthersouth):

The many difficulties inherent in arctic conditionstend to suggest that Northeastern Siberia will notbecome a base for a powerful air offensive againstNorth America in the event of war in the immediatefuture. . . . [But] “it constitutes potentially a strategicbase for launching air attack against NorthAmerica.51

In other words, General Spaatz’s vision for strategicair war may have been valid for Soviet potential,but significantly overstated Soviet air attack capa-bilities in 1948.

To a large extent, aerial photography of theChukotski Peninsula ended the pioneering era ofArctic aerial reconnaissance and marked the tran-sition to a normalized, routine vigilance. In an after-action letter, the Commander-in-Chief, Alaskan AirCommand lauded the excellent results of the 100-inch and 48-inch long-range cameras and urgedcontinuous coverage (sorties at least every threemonths) for future comparison. He sought procure-ment of a 100-inch camera for the command andexplained the benefits of photography over a rangeof light and surface conditions.52 In addition, by July26, 1948, the Air Force Directorate of Intelligencesignificantly tightened control of arctic aerial recon-naissance operations by issuing an “RCM FerretProgram-Alaskan Air Command” that specified col-lection objectives, formalized procedures, andadopted the State Department’s 40-mile limit toprevent unsanctioned overflights and diplomaticincidents.53 Finally, by November 1948, the 72dReconnaissance Squadron formally completedOperation FLOODLIGHT (Project No. 5), the origi-nal reason for deploying aerial reconnaissanceassets to Alaska. Finally, by November 1948, the72d Reconnaissance Squadron formally completedOperation FLOODLIGHT (Project No. 5), the origi-nal reason for deploying aerial reconnaissanceassets to Alaska. The final report recapped theextensive collection of Polar ice data that recordedthe distribution, thickness, and smoothness of Polarice and further recommended its security classifica-tion downgrade so others might benefit from thedata.54

The early months of Project NANOOK andOperations POLARIS and EARDRUM representedmilitary innovation and cutting-edge scientificexploration of the unknown. The histories of the


(Below)Ladd Army AirField, near Fairbanks,Alaska in July 1946.

(Above) Maj. MaynardWhite.

1. Alfred F. Hurley, Billy Mitchell: Crusader for AirPower (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1975),pp. 52, 87.2. Ibid., p. 118.3. William M. Franklin, “Alaska, Outpost of AmericanDefense,” Foreign Affairs 19, no. 1 (October 1940): 248.4. Drafted in October 1943, the IPWAF was one of thefirst postwar basing plans and written before Cold Wartensions. Elliott V. Converse, Circling the Earth: UnitedStates Plans for a Postwar Overseas Military BaseSystem, 1942-1948 (Maxwell Air Force Base, Ala.: AirUniversity Press, 2005), pp. 51, 53-54.5. JCS 1295/2, Appendix B: “An Outline Plan for theMilitary Development of Alaska,” Dec. 21, 1945, File:CCS 660.2 Alaska, 3-23-45, Record Group (RG) 218,National Archives, Washington, D.C. (NA).6. General of the Army H [enry] H. Arnold, “Air Power

for Peace,” National Geographic 89, no. 2 (Feb.1946):170.7. Ibid., pp. 160, 170.8. Ibid., pp. 137, 139, 153. Although not specificallycited, Anthony Leviero’s “The Polar Concept in AirStrategy” Army Information Digest 2, no.1 (Dec. 1947):45-48 also links the polar concept to strategic air warfare.9. Carl Spaatz, Commanding General, Army AirForces, to Commanding General, Strategic AirCommand, Subject: Interim Mission, Mar. 12, 1946, inStrategic Air Command Statistical Summary, HQStrategic Air Command, Vol. 1, No. 1 (Jun. 1, 1946), File:416.01, 21 March-31 December 1946, vol. 4, Air ForceHistorical Research Agency (AFHRA), Maxwell AirForce Base, Ala.; J. C. Hopkins and Sheldon A.Goldberg, The Development of the Strategic Air Com -mand 1946-1986 (The Fortieth Anniversary History)


46th and 72d Reconnaissance Squadrons high-lighted the dedication, ingenuity, and initiative ofrelatively junior officers and NCOs who overcamedaunting obstacles imposed by weather, terrain,and isolation.55 Developing grid navigation, cold-weather flying and maintenance procedures, arcticphotography and mapping, the personnel of the46th and 72d Reconnaissance Squadrons show-cased the new Air Force as problem solvers, willingto grant tactical autonomy and resist burdensomeoversight. The 1946-1948 arctic aerial reconnais-

sance effort transformed the Polar Concept from asimplistic vision, derived simply by looking at aglobe, to a strategic war-planning reality.

Solving the Polar Concept’s tactical and opera-tional challenges also revealed significant flaws inAmerican air power strategy. As shown by thevisions of strategic air warfare published byGenerals Arnold and Spaatz, American air leadersheld rigidly to a series of assumptions of futurewar: it would be a total war, a global war, an atomicwar similar to, but even more destructive thanWorld War II. The next war required a powerful,modern, atomic force-in-being because of the gen-uine likelihood of a nuclear Pearl Harbor. Americanair atomic strategy and the Polar Concept alsoassumed a mirror image of the Soviets. The SovietB–29 and Chukotski Peninsula scare assumed theenemy would fly across the Pole and “nuke” theUnited States just as the U.S. planned to do to theSoviets. At no point did the air leaders raiseClausewitzian questions: what was the politicalobjective? What was the desired end-state (otherthan survival)? Did the end justify the ways andmeans? No Air Force documents of the period ques-tioned the assumptions, proposed alternatives, orexplored limited war. Considering their recentexperience in the massive strategic air campaignsover Europe and Japan, the senior airmen’s limitedstrategic perspective was understandable.Nevertheless, Alaskan aerial reconnaissance repre-sented a conceptual linchpin as well as an opera-tional and tactical cornerstone to the air atomicstrategy of the late 1940s.

The intellectual and resource focus to solvesuccessfully the practical aspects of the PolarConcept overshadowed Air Force efforts to thinkthrough the greater strategic questions. Thus, theearly Air Force operations in Alaska demonstratedboth the tactical and operational strengths of thenew service marked by determined, innovativeproblem solving, and its strategic conceptual limi-tations that would become readily apparent in itsnext war, not the “flash attack” of World War III, butthe infantryman’s grind in the hills of Korea. �

NOTES

(Left) Major Maynard E.White commanded the46th/72d ReconnaissanceSquadron that pioneeredpolar flight operations.

(Above) A 1951 map depict-ing the perceived Sovietbomber threat.

(Offutt Air Force Base, Neb: Office of the Historian,Headquarters Strategic Air Command, 1986), p. 2.10. Although the exact relationship of ProjectsNANOOK and FLOODLIGHT are unclear in the docu-mentary record with the terms used almost inter-changeably, it appears that Operation FLOODLIGHT(Project No. 5) was the classified aerial photographiccomponent of Project NANOOK, the overall arcticreconnaissance mission. Ladd Field is now Fort Wain -wright. History Strategic Air Command 1948. Vol. I:Narrative, pp. 248-49; Fred John Wack, Secret Explo -rers: Saga of the 46th/72nd Reconnaissance Squadrons(Turlock, Calif.: Seeger’s Printing, 1992), 1; Routing andRecord sheet (R&R), Air Intelligence RequirementsDivision, Reconnaissance Branch, Directorate ofIntelligence (AFOIR-RC) to Chief of Staff GeneralIntelligence Division (CSGID), subject: Photography ofFloodlight (Project No. 5), 18 Nov 48, File: 2-5373,Folder: 2-5600- to 2-5699, Box 43, Entry 214, RG 341,NA. [Since the remaining primary documents cited arefrom Entry 214 (the Top Secret Cable file) of RecordGroup 341 (Department of the Air Force), all remainingcitations from this source will be simply be abbreviated“NA.”]11. Early Strategic Air Command doctrine recognizedthe advantage of bomber operations against fighterdefenses flying at night or in bad weather; hence, radarscope photography, a built-in camera taking pictures ofthe navigator’s radar scope, would be included in targetfolders to assist bomber navigators in identifying tar-gets and key geographical features en route. HistoryStrategic Air Command 1948, Vol. I: Narrative, p. 248;Wack, Secret Explorers, p. 1.12. Wack, Secret Explorers, pp. 3, 21; Ken White, Worldin Peril: The Origin, Mission & Scientific Findings of the46th/72nd Reconnaissance Squadron (Elkhart, Ind.: K.W. White & Associates, 1992), pp. 33-35, 73-84.13. White, World in Peril, 13; Wack, Secret Explorers,pp. 3, 4, 7.14. R&R, Headquarters Strategic Air Command, “Tripto Alaska,” Mr. Carroll L. Zimmerman, Chief, Opera -tions Analysis, Exhibit 112, The Strategic Air Com -mand 1947, Vol. 4: Supporting Data (Operations), File:416.01 v. 4 1947, AFHRA.15. 1st Lt Wayland W. Williams, 46th ReconnaissanceSquadron (VLR) Photographic, “A Summary of PolarNavigation,” File: USSTAF-Historical Section-Histo -ries, Box 291, Carl A. Spaatz Papers, Library of Con -gress.16. 1st Lt. David J. Haney, “Difference Between Polarand Low-Latitude Navigation,” in White, World in Peril,pp. 53-55; Wack, Secret Explorers, p. 7; For an in-depthlook at the problems of polar navigation, see chapter 17of Air Force Manual 51-40, Air Navigation,Departments of the Air Force and Navy (Washington,D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1983).17. Historical Section, Strategic Air Command, TheStrategic Air Command 1947, Vol. 1: Narrative, pp. 248-249, File: 416.01, v.1, 1947, AFHRA.18. Wack, Secret Explorers, p. 16.19. Tri-metrogon photography involved three cam-eras, one vertical and two mounted at oblique angles toprovide a horizon-to-horizon photographic mosaic.Historical Section, Strategic Air Command, TheStrategic Air Command 1947, Vol. 1: Narrative, pp. 140-46, File: 416.01, v.1, 1947, AFHRA; Col. Kenneth P.Bergquist, Deputy Assistant Chief of Air Staff, toCommanding General, Strategic Air Command, sub-ject: Operation EARDRUM, Mar. 3, 1947, p. 113, TheStrategic Air Command 1947, Vol. 4: Supporting

Documents, File: 416.01, v.4, 1947, AFHRA.20. Converse, Circling, pp. 35, 39-40, 75.21. Ibid., pp. 76-77.22. Memo for General Spaatz from Major GeneralGeorge C. McDonald, Assistant Chief of Air Staff-2,Subject: Air Intelligence Division (ONI) Study No. 156,10 Feb 47, File: ABI- 744, Folder: ABI 700 to 799, Box38, NA.23. Robert Frank Futrell, Ideas, Concepts, Doctrine:Basic Thinking in the United States Air Force, Vol. 1:1907-1960 (Maxwell Air Force Base, Ala.: Air Univer -sity Press, 1989), pp. 197-98.24. Headquarters AAF Air Intelligence Report, No.100-146/4-34, “Operational Capabilities of U.S.S.R. inCertain Areas,” 6 June 1947, Folder: 2-200 to 2-299 Jul47-Aug 47, Box 39, NA.25. The ferret aircraft was equipped with APH-4 andAPH-5 radar receivers, an APA-17 direction finder,APA-11 signal analyzers, and ARR-5 and ARR-7 radioreceivers with wire recording equipment. During WorldWar II, electronic warfare officers picked up the nick-name of “Crows,” while electronic reconnaissanceEWOs became known as “Ravens.” The Association ofOld Crows, a professional organization supporting for-mer and current electronic warfare officers headquar-tered in Alexandria, Virginia, maintains an archive ofinterviews of veterans of early ferret missions fromWorld War II and the Cold War. Files are organized bynumber and last name of individual. File: F. Voltaggio,pp. 8-12; File 31: Col R. Perry, pp. 9-10; File 11: Col JoeWack, pp. 1-4; Frank Voltaggio, Jr., “Out in the Cold:Early ELINT Activities of the Strategic Air Command,”(unpublished), Association of Old Crows archive (AOC),Alexandria, Virginia.26. File 31: Col R. Perry, 9; File: F. Voltaggio, 11, AOC.27. File 31: Col R. Perry, 10; File: F. Voltaggio, pp. 12-13, AOC.28. Staff Summary Sheet, Subject: Photography ofFloodlight (Project No. 5), Nov 18, 1948, File: 2-5373,Folder: 2-5600 to 2-5699, Box 43, NA.29. Although often referred to as the ChukchiPeninsula (or Chukota Peninsula) today, most contem-porary documents referred to the landmass approxi-mately N 66° W 172° as the Chukotski Peninsula and Iwill use this transliteration.30. Memo from Col. Robert Taylor, Chief, CollectionBranch, Air Intelligence Requirements Division,Directorate of Intelligence, for Col. Hugh D. Wallace,Subject: Distribution of Studies, 8 March 1948, File: 2-8389, Folder: 2-8300 to 2-8399, Box 45, NA.31. Evidently the analysts had no first-hand knowl-edge of the difficulties in cold-weather flying encoun-tered by the 46th/72nd Reconnaissance Squadron totone down these extravagant claims. Memorandum forthe Secretary of the Air Force from General CarlSpaatz, Chief of Staff, United States Air Force, Subject:Some Reports of Soviet Activities in Alaska andAdjacent Thereto, March 25, 1948, File: 2-1193, Folder:2-1100 to 2-1199, Box 40, NA.32. Staff Summary Sheet, Subject: PhotographicCoverage – Chukotski Peninsula Airfields, n. d., GeorgeC. McDonald, Director of Intelligence, to Director ofPlans and Operations, Apr. 23, 1948, File: 2-1432,Folder: 2-1400 to 2-1499, Box 41, NA. 33. Memorandum for Chief, Air Intelligence Require -ments Division from Major Carl M. Green, Recon -naissance Branch, Air Intelligence Requirements Divi -sion, Directorate of Intelligence, Dec. 11, 1947, File: 2-682, Folder: 2-600 to 2-699, Box 40, NA.34. The international dateline explains the difference


in dates. The December 22nd Project 23 flight (Alaskatime) would be December 23rd in the Soviet Far East.Embassy of Union of Soviet Socialist Republics No. 261,January 5, 1948, attachment 1 to Francis B. Stevens,Acting Chief, Division of Eastern European Affairs,Department of State, Subject: Alleged Violation ofSoviet Frontier, File: 2-934, Folder: 2-900 to 2-999 Feb48, Box 40, NA.35. Brig. Gen. F. J. Timberlake, Jr., Chief, OperationsDivision, Directorate of Plans and Operations to Mr.Francis B. Stevens, Acting Chief, Division of Easternand European Affairs, Department of State, Mar. 2, 48,File: 2-934, Folder: 2-900 to 2-999 Feb 48, Box 40, NA.36. A series of staff studies initiated by the incidentrevealed that the Headquarters U.S. Air Force Staff inWashington thought the Alaskan missions were follow-ing the State Department guidelines of a twelve-milerestriction from Soviet territory, but that for this mis-sion the AAC authorized the internationally recognizedterritorial waters of three nautical miles. The docu-ments do not capture the specific instructions to the air-crews. The mixed guidance is revealed by comparingMemorandum for Record, Subject: To reply to Depart -ment of State request for investigation of Soviet allega-tion of American airplane violation of Soviet frontier, n.d. [16 Feb 48], File: 2-934, Folder: 2-900 to 2-999 Feb 48,Box 40, NA with Staff Summary Sheet, Subject: Toreply to memorandum sent by Mr. Symington toGeneral Spaatz, n. d. [Apr. 5, 48], File: 2-1378, Folder: 2-1300 to 2-1399 (1948), Box 41, NA.37. On March 31, 1948, General Dratvin, the Sovietdeputy military governor of Berlin, announced that theSoviets would check all U.S. personnel passing throughtheir zone for identification and inspect all freight ship-ments. The Allies objected since they had receivedassurance of free access to Berlin at the end of the war.Harry S. Truman, Memoirs by Harry S. Truman(Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday & Co., 1956) vol. 2: Yearsof Trial and Hope, p. 122; Warren A. Trest and GeorgeM. Watson, Jr., “Framing Air Force Missions,” in WingedShield, Winged Sword: A History of the United StatesAir Force, Vol. 1: 1907-1950 , gen. ed. Bernard C. Nalty(Washington: Air Force History and Museums Pro -gram, 1997), pp. 426-27; and Roger G. Miller,“Freedom’s Eagles: The Berlin Airlift, 1948-1949,” AirPower History 45, no. 3 (Fall 1998): p. 8.38. Truman, Memoirs, vol. 2, pp. 123, 125.39. Memo, Subject: Limit on Offshore Dis tance forRecon Flights in Pacific Areas and R&R, Subject: Limiton Offshore Distance for Recon Flights in Pacific Areas,Maj. Gen. C. P. Cabell, Director of Intelligence, Office ofDeputy Chief of Staff, Operations, Jul. 27, 1948, File: 2-3060, Folder: 2- 3003 to 2-3099 (Jul 1948), NA. 40. The investigation of the Soviet diplomatic protestgenerated eight Air Staff studies on the issue of “Pho -tographic coverage—Chukotski Peninsula” betweenDecember 1947 and May 1948. These studies led to twomore staff papers related to establishing a 40-mile limiton reconnaissance flights in the Pacific area betweenMay and July 1948. Each staff study or memorandumcontained a staff summary sheet that captured the keyarguments of the documents. A good summary of thearguments may be found in Memorandum for Record,Subject: Limit on Offshore Distance for Recon Flightsin Pacific Area, [July 1948], File: 2-3060, Folder: 2-3003to 2-3099, Box 42, NA.41. Gen. Carl A. Spaatz, “If We Should Have to FightAgain,” Life, July 5, 1948, p. 35.42. Ibid., p. 36. Gen. Spaatz is referring to the deploy-

ment of the 301st Bomb Group, equipped with B–29s,to Europe on June 28, 1948. R&R, Richard McMullen toHistorical Section, Strategic Air Command, Aug. 12,1949, History Strategic Air Command 1948, Vol. 4:Supporting Documents, File: 416.01 v. 4 1948, AFHRA.Historian Harry R. Borowski pointed out that none ofthe B–29 groups, the 301st, 28th, and 307th, thatdeployed during the Berlin Crisis was equipped withaircraft capable of dropping atomic bombs, althoughmost people did not realize the fact. Harry R. Borowski,A Hollow Threat: Strategic Air Power and ContainmentBefore Korea (Westport, Ct.: Greenwood Press, 1982), p.126.43. Spaatz, “If We Should Have to Fight Again,” p. 39.44. Ibid.45. General Carl A. Spaatz, “Phase II Air War.” Life,Aug. 16, 1948, p. 91.46. Although officially designated the Tupolev Tu–4,early U.S. air intelligence documents did not learn ofthe nomenclature till later and simply used the term“Soviet B–29” or “Russian B–29 type.” Spaatz, “If WeShould Have to Fight Again,” pp. 44-45.47. Ibid., p. 45.48. “The Russian B–29” in Memorandum for Col.Hugh D. Wallace from Col. Robert Taylor III, Chief,Collection Branch, Air Intelligence RequirementsDivision, Directorate of Intelligence, Mar. 8, 48, File: 2-8389, Folder: 2-8300 to 2-8399, NA. 49. Col. George W. Goddard pioneered early aerialphotography, including photographing parts ofAlaska during General Hap Arnold’s demonstrationof the Martin B–10 bomber in 1934. At this time, the100-inch camera was one of a kind and not fullytested. Brig. Gen. Walter R. Agee, Chief Air Intel -ligence Requirements Division, Directorate of Intel -li gence, to Commander, Alaskan Air Command, let-ter, Dec. 15, 1948, File: 2-5676A, Folder: 2-5600 to 2-5699, Box 43, NA.50. R&R Sheet, Maj. Gen. George C. McDonald to[Lieutenant General Earle E. Partridge.] Director ofPlans and Operations, Subject: Photographic Coverage– Chukotski Peninsula Airfields, Apr. 23, 1948, File: 2-1432, Folder: 2-1400 to 2-1499, Box 41, Entry 241, RG341, NA.51. HQ SAC Intel Brief No. 63, “Soviet Air Facilities inNortheastern Siberia,” Aug. 2, 1948, File: 416.606-63,AFHRA.52. Commander-in-Chief, Alaskan Air Command toChief of Staff, USAF, Subject: Importance of Long-rangePhotography to Alaskan Theater, n. d. [Dec 1948], File:2-5676A, Folder: 2-5600 to 2-5699, Box 43, NA.53. Major General C[harles] P. Cabell, Director ofIntelligence, to Commanding General, Alaskan AirCommand, Subject: RCM Ferret Program – AlaskanAir Command, 26 Jul 1948, File: 2-3027, Folder: 2-3003to 2-3099 Jul 48, Box 42, NA.54. Staff Summary Sheet, Subject: Photography ofFloodlight (Project No. 5), Nov. 18, 1948, File: 2-5373,Folder: 2-5600 to 2-5699, Box 43, NA.55. Two excellent unit histories of the 46th and 72ndReconnaissance Squadrons provide the human andscientific dimension of arctic and polar flying opera-tions in Project NANOOK. See Ken White, World inPeril: The Origins, Mission & Scientific Findings of the46th/72nd Reconnaissance Squadron (Elkhart, IN: K.W. White & Associates, 1992) and Fred John Wack,The Secret Explorers: Saga of the 46th/72d Recon -naissance Squadrons (Turlock, Calif.: Seeger’s Prin -ting, 1992).



The Arsenal of Democracy: FDR,Detroit, and an Epic Quest to Arm anAmerica at War. By A. J. Baime. Boston:Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2014. Photo -graphs. Notes. Index. Pp. xviii, 364. $27.00ISBN: 978-0-547-71928-3

In its broadest meaning, the “Arsenalof Democracy” refers to the totality of U.S.industry that mobilized to produce themilitary hardware America (and, to a sig-nificant extent, its allies) used to defeatthe Axis powers in World War II. Withinthis broad context, A. J. Baime has a morenarrow focus: Detroit and its automotiveindustry, specifically the Ford MotorCompany. The Arsenal of Democracy tellsthe story of how Ford transformed itselffrom a peacetime manufacturer of carsand trucks into a business that by war’send had achieved its remarkable goal ofproducing one B–24 Liberator bomberevery hour.

The Ford story centered on the diffi-cult relationship between companyfounder Henry Ford, the man creditedwith creating mass production, and sonEdsel, whose convictions about what wasbest for the company and the country ledhim to struggle against his father’s anti-war sentiments and strong antipathytoward President Franklin Roosevelt.

Even though Henry appointed Edselcompany president at the young age oftwenty-five, the elder Ford still controlled55 percent of the stock in the family-owned business. Thus, while Edsel was thetitular head of the company, Henry wasable to effectively overturn any of his son’sdecisions with which he disagreed, and didso on numerous occasions, even before theissue of ramping up for military produc-tion took center stage.

Father-son contention regarding mili-tary production peaked in 1940. On behalfof the Roosevelt Administration, TreasurySecretary Henry Morgenthau asked Edselwhether Ford’s mass production andassembly line techniques could be appliedto airplanes and related equipment. Edselsaid yes and, somewhat to his surprise, gothis father to agree that Ford would pro-duce more than 10,000 Merlin engines forU.S. and British aircraft. Edsel wastremendously embarrassed when, just twodays later, Henry reversed the decisionand angrily cancelled the deal. It is diffi-cult to say exactly why he did this. Was he(as some charged) a Nazi sympathizer?Was he sincere in his belief that the U.S.should not engage in or actively supportforeign wars? Or did he simply refuse tocooperate because of the anti-businessactions Roosevelt had taken to deal withthe Great Depression? Baime leaves thefirst question open to debate but concludes

that the second two issues clearly werefactors in the decision.

The turning point in Ford’s positionseems to have begun later in 1940, atabout the time the Battle of Britain wasdrawing to a close. That was when theRoosevelt administration laid out a pro-gram for U.S. industry to produce incredi-ble amounts of military hardware: 50,000airplanes, 130,000 engines, 55,000 artil -lery pieces and mortars, 9,200 tanks, 580ships, and two million machine guns andrifles (even these numbers understatedthe capacity of American industry; in theyears of war production, industry rolledout nearly 300,000 aircraft, six times theinitial goal). William Knudsen, mostrecently the President of General Motorsand newly appointed by Roosevelt asChairman of the Office of ProductionManagement, convinced many Detroitmanufacturers to agree to military pro-duction contracts.

The specific impetus for Ford to jointhe team came in December 1940, whenJimmy Doolittle asked Edsel if Ford couldsupply machine parts for the B–24Liberator bomber. The ConsolidatedAircraft Company had designed the air-plane but didn’t have major productionknow-how. Edsel convinced Henry thatFord had to get on board: not only was itthe right thing to do for the company andfor the nation, but if Ford didn’t voluntari-ly get with the program, there was a veryreal concern that Roosevelt would takeover Ford’s production facilities. Henrysomewhat reluctantly gave in but stillstated that the company would providemateriel only for U.S. defense, not for for-eign wars. Even he must have recognizedby this time that the boundary betweenthe two was a subtlety that had little realmeaning.

By the end of the month Edsel led ateam of Ford engineers and executives ona trip to Consolidated’s plant in California.Although Consolidated wanted to lead theproduction effort and expected Ford toplay a supporting role, Ford’s team quicklydetermined that Consolidated had no ideaof what it would take to ramp up to massproduction to meet the administration’sdemand for thousands of bombers. Edsel’sright-hand man, Charles Sorensen,overnight outlined the design of whatwould eventually become Ford’s WillowRun facility, a massive, mile-long plantnear Detroit to build B–24s on an assem-bly line. By March 1941, Ford had signed acontract (valued at more than $7 billion intoday’s dollars) to produce the plant, 800complete airplanes, and 1,200 mostly com-plete air frames. By the time the warended, Ford had produced approximately9,000 B–24s.

Baime has two central themes. First,he makes the point, as others have donepreviously, that once it became clear WorldWar II would be fought by men but enabledby industry, the U.S. would be an over-whelming force the Axis powers couldn’tmatch. Second, Edsel Ford had to endureand prevail in a long-term battle with hisfather in order to bring their company intothe fold as a full participant in the wartimeproduction. The Arsenal of Democracy is awell-researched, well-written book thatsupports these themes and does a superbjob telling a fascinating story.

Lt. Col. Joseph Romito, USA (Ret.), Docent,National Air and Space Museum’s Udvar-Hazy Center and National Mall Facility

Quieting the Boom: The Shaped SonicBoom Demonstrator and the Quest forQuiet Supersonic Flight. By Law renceBenson. Washington, D.C.: National Air andSpace Administration, 2013. Pho to graphs.Illustrations. Bibliography. Index. Pp. 388.$24.00 (Printed version) ISBN: 978-1-626-83-004-2

This book is part of NASA’s Aero -nautics Book Series and covers develop-ment and flight testing of its Shaped SonicBoom Demonstrator (SSBD).

Benson begins by explaining the sci-ence behind the cause of the sonic phe-nomenon known as a sonic boom. He dis-cusses early research, beginning withAustrian physicist-philosopher ErnstMach, who explained the concept of sonicbooms. Mach determined that the speed ofsound was affected by the mediumthrough which an object passes. In thecase of flight, sound waves travel faster inwarmer temperatures. In recognition ofhis work, the Mach number (the ratiobetween the speed of an object and thespeed of sound) is named in his honor.

After briefly outlining the events sur-rounding Yeager’s breaking the sound bar-rier in October 1947, Benson explains howsonic booms are created. He uses multiplediagrams to show both the sonic boom sig-nature and shock cone. Having providedthe reader with a basic understanding ofsonic booms, Benson discusses in detailsubsequent research into the phenomenonas well as the rise in sonic boom com-plaints submitted to the Air Force, morethan 38,000 from 1956 to 1968.

Benson tackles the efforts of thenewly formed NASA and its work with thesupersonic transport (SST) concept.Coupled with NASA and USAF sonic-boom research of the late fifties and six-ties, the FAA entered the sonic-boom-

Book Reviews

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research arena by participating in tests tounderstand the effects of sonic booms onpeople, structures, and animals. As aresult of concerns over the noise fromSSTs, the FAA banned “commercial or civilaircraft from supersonic flight over thelandmass or territorial waters of theUnited States if measurable overpressurewould reach the surface” in 1973. Withcancellation of the American SST pro-gram, research into sonic-booms and theirabatement decreased significantly.

The final three chapters focus on theSSBD. Begun in the spring of 2001, theprogram used a specially modified F–5Efighter to show the persistence of a shapedsonic boom. To achieve the desired results,Northrop engineers produced sixty differ-ent aircraft configurations, primarilyfocused on the F–5E’s nose. Ultimately, thefinal design adding a curved lower addi-tion to the nose that resulted in themoniker “Pelican.” In test flights, thePelican nose proved to be successful inreducing the intensity of sonic booms bycreating a plateau of “flattopped” sonicwave signature. Success!

The book ends by describing subse-quent, yet dwindling, research efforts.Benson notes that when the day comes fora practical SST, “a worn out former fighterplane, with the front of its fuselage modi-fied to resemble a long pelican’s beak, willhave helped lead the way.”

Quieting the Boom is a very detailedstudy available in both printed and elec-tronic (www.nasa.gov/connect/ebooks) for-mats. Benson mentions, by name, all of thekey participants in an effort to crediteveryone involved. Each SSBD test flightis described in detail. The book is heavilyannotated, with close to half of the textdevoted to endnotes. The graphics aresmall and challenging for older eyes toread, but the electronic version providesan excellent way to study the graphics ingreater enlarged detail. While the techni-cal detail will not appeal to everyone, read-ers interested in either supersonic flight orflight research will find this work a valu-able read.

Lt. Col. Daniel J. Simonsen, USAF (Ret.),Bossier City, Louisiana

Nimrod: Rise and Fall. By Tony Blackman.London: Grub Street, 2011, 2013. Photo -graphs. Illustrations. Maps. Pp. 223. $30.00ISBN 978-1909166022

This work should be in libraries forreaders from high school and up.Blackman was the associate test pilot forthe program to convert the deHavilland

Comet IV into a much-needed maritimereconnaissance platform.

Both the excellence of the frequent full-color photographs and the helpfulness ofthe explanatory technical concepts are use-ful. In fact, this is a well-conceived and exe-cuted publication. A professional test pilotand author of many books in the subject,Blackman was associated with the CometIV conversion into the various Nimrod mar-itime surveillance machines during theforty years of their native service. He flew inmost of the aircraft built—much of the timespent at less than 1,000 feet ASL.

Blackman walks the reader throughnot only the equipment, but also the tasksfor which the airplane was designed,including both anti-submarine warfareand search and rescue missions. Hisdescriptions are backed up with specificexamples. Especially interesting are thestories of the Cold War cat-and-mousegame with the Soviet Navy’s submarines.There is a lot worthy of note in this book,down to the UK government’s final baddecision to scrap the Nimrod MRA4.Blackburn points to the developments ofthe early 2000s when, instead of simplygutting the hull and installing new equip-ment, the final redesign replaced 95 per-cent of a perfectly viable design with amuch costlier proposed version at a time offiscal crisis.

As with other British ideas, theremaining aircraft were fenced in and bro-ken up. Not only did this decision leave theUK defenseless, it also created a significantunemployed cadre of skilled personnel, aswell as the likelihood that Britain will haveto buy a less capable U.S. aircraft.

One thing that affected the Nimrodwas the consolidation and dispersal of itsfounders and, thus, the loss of technical anddesign support in the forty-odd years of itslife. The Nimrod was a safe aircraft withonly one out of forty being lost operational-ly. Through during all 500,000 hours ofoperation, only five were lost. This, then, isthe story of a great aircraft whose opera-tional life was abruptly ended way too soon.

Robin Higham, Professor Emeritus,Military History, Kansas State University

JG26: Top Guns of the Luftwaffe. ByDonald Caldwell. London: Frontline Books,2013. Illustrations. Bibliography. Glossary.Appendices. Index. Pp. xxii, 440. $32.95ISBN: 978-1-84832-746-7

JG26 was one of the most successfulfighter units of all time with almost 2,700victory claims during World War II. It wasformed shortly before the outbreak of the

war and was about 50 percent larger thanan American fighter group. FromCaldwell’s appendices, it appears the unitaveraged an aircraft strength of about 125and an in commission rate of about 70 per-cent throughout the war. It fought almostentirely on the western front, althoughsome of its subordinate units brieflyserved in the Mediterranean and Russiantheaters. JG26 flew Bf 109s and FW 190s.It flew no jets.

Caldwell’s massive and excellentbook, originally published in 1991, chroni-cles the unit’s history in detail. Althoughmost of the unit’s official records weredestroyed, he makes good use of inter-views with survivors (German and Anglo-American) as well as with rich secondarysources. He covers his subject from theindividual’s perspective and from a higherlevel as well. By necessity, the story is toldfrom a German point-of-view.

Even with good books such as this,there are criticisms. Factually, I rejectCaldwell’s summary of the January 1,1945, Bodenplatte operation that “Germanplanning for the mission was thorough,and nearly flawless.” The large number ofGerman friendly fire incidents, the loss of300 Luftwaffe aircraft and 214 pilots, andthe fact that part of JG26 attacked anunused Allied airfield indicate otherwise.Some will criticize the book for its lengthand seeming repetition of engagementafter engagement; but that is the price ofdetail. Most regrettably, there are no notes.

The book’s positive attributes far out-weigh these criticisms, however. The discus-sion of JG26’s role in numerous air battles(especially the Battle of Britain and theBodenplatte operation) is well done,. Alsosuperior is the description and analysis ofthe virtues and vices of the various Alliedand German aircraft. Caldwell writes acandid, somewhat critical, and sometimesunflattering account. He deals with a num-ber of controversies connected to the air warnoting, for example, four instances ofLuftwaffe pilots being shot at in their para-chutes and the killing of a German pilot byAmerican infantrymen. He also notes alarge number of “friendly fire” incidents,although without comment. And he getsinto one of the enduring and frustratingquestions of aerial combat—victoryclaims—writing that the Luftwaffe empha-sized individual victory claims more thanany other air force. Throughout the bookthe numbers of aircraft claimed destroyedby the opposing fighters appear along withadmitted losses. Caldwell also gets into thedetails of the German system to confirmvictory claims; unfortunately he spreadsthis discussion across the text’s more than400 pages. In addition he explains aLuftwaffe point policy used in awarding

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decorations that some have misinterpretedas the victory confirmation procedure.

The book will be seen mostly for itsconsiderable detail and effective use ofpilot testimony. But it delivers far more. Itlinks this excellent view from the cockpitsof Luftwaffe fighters with the overall airsuperiority battle, exploring the micro andthe macro aspects of the story. In additionto his narrative, Caldwell added a numberof useful features such as tables of organi-zation/order of battle on eleven dates andstatistical summaries of claims and losses.

Overall, this is an important and welldone book. JG26 was a key German fight-er unit that served throughout the entirewar. Thus, its story is essentially that ofthe fighter war in microcosm, certainly thebattles over northwestern Europe. As oneof the few books on German fighter unitspublished in English, it is indispensablefor the language-challenged reader.Caldwell is to be highly commended foradding this major contribution to the liter-ature.

Dr. Ken Werrell, Christiansburg, Virginia

The Goldsboro Broken Arrow, 2nd Ed.By Joel Dobson. Lulu Publishing Services,2013. Maps. Diagrams. Illustrations. Photo -graphs. Notes. Appendices. Bibliography. Pp.xxii, 425. $24.99 ISBN 978-1-4834-0132-4

In 1961, as the pressures of the ColdWar heightened, John F. Kennedy wassworn in as President succeeding DwightEisenhower. Gen. Thomas Power wasCommander-in-Chief, Strategic Air Com -mand (SAC), and Gen. Curtis Lemay wasUSAF Chief of Staff. Concern was growingthat a lack of warning of a missile attackon the U.S. by the USSR would catch thebombers of SAC on the ground. Therefore,Gen. Power devised a plan, eventuallyknown as Chrome Dome, wherein a num-ber of SAC’s bomber aircraft would be kepton airborne alert. The airborne bombersflew designated routes around NorthAmerica or over the Mediterranean andwere, therefore, safe from any attack ontheir home bases. Missions lasted about 24hours and required several mid-air refuel-ing, The aircraft carried live nuclearweapons and appropriate release codes.

At 10:56 a.m., January 23, 1961, thecrew of B–52G 58-0187 took off on the lastsortie needed to qualify them to flyChrome Dome missions. The flight wasscheduled for 24 hours with two heavy-weight refuelings. Although primarilyflown around the southeast U.S. andAtlantic Ocean, the route was close to theactual time and distance the crew would

fly if this were a real “go-to-war” mission.Joel Dobson has done a credible job of

retracing the accident and placing it in thecontext of the day. The story is divided intothree parts: 1) pre-flight (close examina-tion of the crew and plane) through thecrash and bailout; 2) aftermath, that looksat the tensions of command, a worst casescenario of detonation of one or more of theweapons, and post-Goldsboro; and 3)debrief, where comparisons to Chernobyland Fukushima are made. Following themain story, Dobson added ten appendicesto further add substance to examination.These present details on each of the crew,official findings, bomb component behav-ior, and other enhancements. Particularlygood is his use of first-person descriptionsof the accident and the recovery efforts bythe leader of the explosive ordnance dis-posal team.

The Goldsboro incident is not one ofthe better known accidents involvingnuclear weapons. The loss and recovery ofweapons off Palomares, Spain; the loss of aweapon near Savannah, Georgia; and theTitan II fire and explosion in Damascus,Arkansas (recently well covered by EricSchlosser in his book Command andControl) usually come to mind first.Although Dobson subtitles his story “as apotential tipping point for nuclear war,” Idon’t find his support for that position par-ticularly strong, but it is worthy of consid-eration.

Overall, I found the book to be a goodread, well researched and presented.Dobson provides sufficient detail toexplain to all levels of readers the how’sand why’s of some very complicated issues,especially the arming and fusing ofnuclear weapons and the subtleties ofcommand resulting from command pres-sures. Sufficient maps and pictures areprovided to put the reader in the area.This book makes an excellent companionto Schlosser’s Command and Control inthe area of nuclear weapons safety.

Msgt. Al Mongeon, USAF (Ret.)

The Shelburne Escape Line: SecretRescues of Allied Aviators by theFrench Underground, the BritishRoyal Navy and London’s MI-9. ByReanne Hemingway-Douglass and DonDouglass. Anacortes Washington: CaveArt Press, 2014. Photographs. Maps.Glossary. Dia grams. Bibliography. Pp.xxiv, 197. $18.95 ISBN: 978-1-934199-05-3

This book is about evasion, escape, theFrench Resistance, life under the enemyin occupied France, downed airmen, and

the strategic air war that brought them alltogether. It is told from the perspective ofmilitary intelligence agents, Resistancemembers and civilians, and evaders whomade it back to England. The namesakesection relates the planning, organizingand execution of an evade-and-escapeorganization in the Brittany area ofFrance, termed the Shelburne Line by itsBritish military intelligence (MI-9) plan-ners, that returned Allied airmen toEngland during the first six months of1944. Downed aircrew were located,authenticated (to prevent enemy infiltra-tion), provided fake identity papers anddisguises, and hidden in attics and base-ments. Gradually they were moved—sometimes right past enemy patrols—to asafe house on the Brittany coast, where aRoyal Navy torpedo boat would pick themup. Seven such operations removed justover 100 men. Hemingway-Douglas is awriter with extensive works on nauticaland outdoor subjects to her credit.Studying in France just after the war, shebecame interested in the lives of the peo-ple who endured the occupation.

Included are accounts of downed air-men: Gordon Carter, an RAF Halifax bom-bardier-navigator who was smuggled backto England in a fishing boat; ChickBlakley, a B–24 gunner evacuated over-land into Spain and Gibraltar; and KenSorgenfrei, a B–24 pilot who was simplyconcealed in the French Alps until theAllies liberated Grenoble

Examples of how civilians becameinvolved in the Resistance are found in thestories of Robert Janin, a student whosetown in Vichy France faced constantenemy surveillance, arrest, and reprisals;and Marie-Therese Le Meur-Jouvent, aschoolgirl in Brittany wounded by strafingon D-Day, who struggled to get homethrough enemy patrols on the rails androads and amid strafing and bombing byAllied aircraft that attacked anything thatmoved.

The book relates in greater detail thestory of the Shelburne Line covered morebriefly in such standard works as HermanBodson, Downed Allied Airmen andEvasion of Capture: The Role of LocalResistance Networks in World War II;Sherri Greene Ottis, Silent Heroes:Downed Airmen and the FrenchUnderground; Graham Pitchfork, ShotDown and on the Run: The RCAF andCommonwealth Aircrews who Got Homefrom Behind Enemy Lines, 1940-1945; andBrooks Richards, Secret Flotillas: Clan -destine Sea Operations to Brittany 1940-44(2013). The bibliography is fairly compre-hensive, although I missed citation ofOliver Clutton-Brock, RAF Evaders: TheComprehensive Story of Thousands of

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Escapers and Their Escape Lines, WesternEurope, 1940-1945.

Copious photos, maps, and diagramsare closely tied to the text. Many of thephotos are from evaders or formerResistance members. The author herselfwalked and photographed the hiddenpaths, secluded coves, roads, and safehouses. The glossary is quite helpful inkeeping up with Resistance-related termsand the acronyms characteristic of anymilitary endeavor. Lists of individualsinvolved in the Shelburne line as well asthose whom they aided help the readerkeep them straight.

This book’s strength is its reliance oninterviews with participants and witness-es. Hemingway-Douglass’s familiaritywith French language, culture and geogra-phy enables her to vividly characterizesuch harrowing moments as evacuationsat night under the constant threat ofenemy surveillance. The result is as freshand engaging seventy years later as theday it happened, shining a fresh light onan otherwise unpublicized chapter ofWorld War II. The text is liberally sprin-kled with source references, althoughchapter notes might have been more use-ful in quickly finding a specific citation.The stories subsequent to the Shelburneline suffer from a typo or two and are notas well arranged in some cases. These areminor quibbles, however, in a book thatwill become a standard of evade/escape lit-erature. I highly recommend it for all stu-dents of the air war over Europe.

Steven Agoratus, Hamilton, New Jersey

McNamara, Clifford, and the Burdensof Vietnam 1965-1969: Secretaries ofDefense Historical Series, Volume VI.By Edward J. Drea. Washington, D.C.:Defense Department, 2011. Photographs.Maps. Diagrams. Pp. 694. $68.00 ISBN:978-016088135-0

This book is a detailed history ofbureaucratic decisions, discussions, andissue resolutions at the Department ofDefense (DoD) from the lens of theSecretary of Defense (SecDef) during1965-1969. The two SecDefs were RobertMcNamara and Clark Clifford. Most of thebook centers on the four years (1965-1968)of McNamara, with fleeting comments onthe change of leadership at DoD whenClifford took the reins in 1968. Drea iden-tifies the agreements and disagreementsthroughout the highest levels of FederalGovernment during this time when thecountry was faced with the growing con-cern over appropriate military and politi-

cal actions during the Vietnam War.From an air power perspective, Drea

describes the issues, discussions, and ulti-mate decisions made by President Johnson,and the means and methods employed byMcNamara during Congressional and DoDdebates on a host of military aircraft sys-tems. For example, there is a detailedanalysis of McNamara’s testimony toCongress for future funding of defenseneeds, as well as a description of an ongoingdebate within DoD concerning procure-ment of F–111 aircraft. The Joint Chiefs ofStaff (JCS) had one perspective on F–111procurement; Secretary McNa mara hadanother, wanting to procure a “common”aircraft to satisfy both Air Force and Navymissions. This debate resulted in cancella-tion of the F–111B (the intended Navy vari-ant) and subsequent research and develop-ment of the heralded F–14A. Additionally,there were spill-over discussions concern-ing retiring “older” B–52 aircraft to bereplaced by the yet-to-be-developedFB–111. The Air Force was not favorablydisposed to morphing the F–111 into astrategic bomber replacement. There wereongoing discussions on B–52 flight opera-tions in Vietnam, as well as the urgent needfor procurement of additional 500- and 750-lb general purpose bombs used by B–52s intheir escalating role in the Vietnam War.Another interesting force structure andfunding debate was whether to procureadditional SR–71 aircraft, as requested bythe JCS. SecDef and the OSD staff won thatdebate, and SR–71 procurement was trun-cated at a lower number of aircraft.

Drea explains the political discus-sions held at the weekly Tuesday WhiteHouse lunch meetings attended by only aselect few high-ranking government offi-cials, meetings where Johnson andMcNamara discussed the current status ofmilitary efforts and the next direction forthe U.S. to take in the war. Of particularinterest was how targets in Vietnam werechosen. Military strategists made inputs,but these were subject to guidance andapproval of OSD staff and then ultimatelyapproved by the President and theSecretary of State. This highlights thepolitical environment in which RollingThunder operations were forced to beemployed.

Also described in the book are sub-stantive events beyond Vietnam such asthe attempted communist incursion intoSanto Domingo and the Soviet Unioninvasion into Czechoslovakia. Drea retellsan incident where the Soviet Unioninformed the U.S. that if we would over-look their Czechoslovakia incursion, theywould “influence” North Vietnam to reducetheir military actions in South Vietnam.Political upheaval in the Middle East was

another distraction. In 1967, U.S. attentionwas fixed on the need to maintain an openSuez Canal during U.S. political problemswith Egypt. But, during this period, Israelstruck the USS Liberty, an intelligencegathering ship under the control of theNational Security Agency, off their coast.The next year, North Korea took anotherintelligence gathering ship, the USSPueblo off their coast. One of the factorsdetailed in the book was U.S. inability torespond in a timely and adequate militarymanner to the capture of the Pueblo,because needed military forces werealready deployed in Vietnam.

This book is well worth the time andeffort, though it is hefty and not an easyread. It certainly will enrich the knowl-edge of anyone interested in the politics ofdefense during this period and the actionstaken by SecDef McNamara. While suc-cessor Clifford’s efforts are also described,the vast majority of the book is truly aboutMcNamara.

Col. Joe McCue, USAF (Ret.), Leesburg,Virginia

Invasion Rabaul: The Epic Story ofLark Force, the Forgotten Garrison,January-July 1942. By Bruce Gamble.Minneapolis, Minn.: Zenith Press, 2014.Maps. Photographs. Notes. Bibliography.Index. Pp. 304. $18.99 paperback ISBN:13: 978-07603-4591-7

Zenith Press originally published thiswork as Darkest Hour in 2006. With thesuccess of Gamble’s Target Rabaul(reviewed in the Summer 2011 issue of AirPower History) and Fortress Rabaul, thepublisher has re-issued it as a paperbackunder a new title consistent with the twoother works in the trilogy. Gamble initial-ly became interested in the battles involv-ing Rabaul because of a family memberwho participated in the air attacks.

Invasion Rabaul covers the first sixmonths of the Pacific War’s impact on theisland of New Britain and its principalport, Rabaul. Gamble details the fate of theAustralian army garrison and the civilianpopulation it was expected to protect fromJapanese invaders. With the bulk of theirregular army committed to the EasternMediterranean, government officials dis-patched garrison troops, one battalion toeach of three islands to the north ofAustralia: Ambon, Timor, and New Britain.The Western powers arrogantly believedthat this feeble show of force, including theperception of a far more formidable navalbase at Singapore, would discourageJapanese adventures at least until rein-

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forcements could arrive from the UnitedKingdom and United States.

Of course, these leaders totally under-estimated the ability of the Japanese toquickly expand their perimeter through-out the Central and Southwest Pacificafter hostilities were initiated inDecember 1941.

Gamble examines the situation atRabaul prior to the conflict. Once hostili-ties began, the Australian governmentquickly realized it would be unable to rein-force Rabaul yet made virtually noattempt to organize an evacuation of civil-ians and military personnel when it stillhad the opportunity. Contributing to thequick Japanese advance was the ineptnessof the on-scene Australian army comman-ders, mostly pre-war members of theequivalent of the National Guard in theUnited States. Lacking training in tacticaloperations, they made poor choices thoughthe superior numbers of the Japaneseassured there would be only one outcome.

Left to fend for themselves, smallbands of soldiers, rather than surrenderlike many of their comrades, chose to evadetheir pursuers in the incredibly hostile jun-gle. They received some support from mis-sionary outposts and, in some instances,were safely evacuated. However, mosteither perished in the jungle, or, at somepoint, were captured by the Japanese.

The story discusses the atrocities per-petrated by the Japanese occupiersagainst their prisoners. Finally, in June1942, the Japanese chose to transfer morethan 1,000 prisoners to Hainan Island ofthe southeast coast of China in anunescorted freighter. They never arrived,resulting in the greatest maritime loss oflife in Australia’s history.

This work offers an insightful per-spective on human nature under duress.On a very personal basis, it brings to lifethe ferocity of the first six months of thePacific War in a location almost unsuitablefor human habitation. In fact, other thanpummeling Rabaul with aerial attacks,Allied strategists later in the war chose tobypass New Britain.

Lt. Col. Steven D. Ellis, USAFR (Ret.),Docent, Museum of Flight, Seattle, Wash.

Four-War Boer: The Century and Lifeof Pieter Arnoldus Krueler. By Colin D.Heaton and Anne-Marie Lewis. Haver -town, Penn.: Casemate, 2014. Photographs.Appendix. Notes. Bibliography. Index. Pp.274. $32.95 ISBN: 978-1-61200-175-3

In Four-War Boer, Heaton and Lewisstrive to attain the highest level of histori-

cal truth with their approach to the biog-raphy of Pieter Arnoldus Krueler. Theyspent six years in researching four twenti-eth-century wars and validated their find-ings through extensive interviews withKrueler who played significant roles in allof the wars. Although the book focuses onone man’s experience mostly in Africa, itsaccount of activities with internationalimplications could stand alone as a historylesson.

The book makes it easy to see Krueleras a model for the ultimate warrior. Hefirst engaged in combat at the age of four-teen, fighting the British in the SecondBoer War. Initially, he was a messenger onhorseback but became a rifleman duringthe Boer victory at Spion Kop. For the fol-lowing two years, Boer commander LouisBotha recognized Krueler’s courage andgave him ever-increasing responsibilityand authority.

During the war, the British killedKrueler’s father, older brother, and uncle;and they put his mother, sister, andyounger brother into a concentrationcamp, from where they disappeared. Afterlosing his family’s land when the out-manned and out-gunned Boers weredefeated, Krueler, too, spent time in aBritish-run concentration camp. Onrelease, he received second-class citizenstatus. The British confiscated the SouthAfrican gold and diamond mines, whichwas one of their war aims.

Krueler resumed his combat role inWorld War I. Rather than join the British,as many former-Boer soldiers such asBotha did, Krueler’s bitterness toward theBritish made him choose to fight for theGermans. For three years, he led far-rang-ing commando raids against the British,mainly fighting small engagements anddestroying convoys, trains, and railways.Krueler originated tactics that eventuallybecame basic insurgent practices.

Occasionally, the book resembles atraining manual. For example, when clari-fying a point during an interview, Kruelerexplains how he and his men survivedwhile operating self-sufficiently behindenemy lines:The tactic in the field was to maintaincamps that could not be observed by care-fully choosing low points and defilades inwhich to build small cooking fires whilemaintaining security vigilance along highpoints, such as ridges and hilltops, withsentries always poster on high ground andsending out roving patrols. Once the mealswere eaten the group would immediatelyrelocate their camp with no fires and main-tain security throughout the night.

In his third and fourth wars—Spainand the Congo Republic—Krueler advisedas much as he fought. In 1937, at age fifty-

two, he contracted as a mercenaryspokesman for the Germans and, there-fore, the Nationalists in the Spanish CivilWar. Once on the scene, he developed asympathy for the Republicans, particular-ly the Basques. Consequently, he aban-doned Hitler and Franco. He lived with theBasques and taught them insurgent skillssuch as bomb making. At the end of theCivil War, Krueler found himself again onthe losing side and had to leave Spain.

Amid the turmoil surrounding theCongo Republic’s organization and work-ing for De Beers, Krueler led MoiseTshombe’s rebel forces in guerilla stylewarfare. As the political situation fluctuat-ed, he helped Tshombe flee and return tothe Congo. Finally in 1964, at age 79,Krueler declared he was too old to solvethe Congo’s problems and left the country,never to return.

Surprisingly, World War II passedKrueler by “and he could not have caredless.” In 1940, Prime Minister JanChristiaan Smut appointed him as amajor to train South African soldiers.Shortly thereafter, Krueler’s wife died inchildbirth. Distraught, he continuedinstructing until 1942 and then retired tocoast watcher duty.

Along with satisfying one’s intellect,the book’s physical qualities reflect theprofessionalism of its authors and publish-er.

Lt. Col. Henry Zeybel, USAF (Ret.), Austin,Texas

The Next War in the Air: Britain’s Fearof the Bomber 1908-1941. By Dr. BrettHolman. Surrey, UK: Ashgate, 2014. Tables.Diagrams. Illustrations. Photo graphs. Notes.Glossary. Bibliography. Index. £62.00 ISBN:978-140944733-7

Holman has given us a well-writtenand carefully foot-noted academic mono-graph logging the ebb and flow of civilianfears regarding attacks on population cen-tres. He acknowledges that his subject isnot an original one but argues that “themost critical bias in the secondary litera-ture is the neglect of non-military ideasabout aviation.” A good point: but the mostcritical bias in this book is its neglect of theattitude and activity of the civilians whoseactual job it was to think about a possibleattack from the air. No use has been madeof the files of the Ministry of HomeSecurity or the Ministry of Health (thedepartment then chiefly concerned withdealing with local government bodies) inThe National Archives at Kew, or the volu-minous surviving records of the Air Raid

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Precautions (A.R.P.) and EmergencyCommittees of the various borough admin-istrations in and outside London.However, it is in these local records, pre-sumably, that one must look for the expla-nation of why a borough like Poplar wasmuch better prepared for the Blitz thanneighbouring boroughs like Stepney andWest Ham.

On the other hand, Holman’s famil-iarity with the relevant printed and pub-lished material is, at first glance, impres-sive. Closer examination, however, sug-gests a somewhat erratic approach toresearch. He mentions Tom Wintring -ham’s book The Coming World War (1935)but not his pamphlet Air Raid Warning!Why the Royal Air Force is to be Doubled,issued the previous year. He mentions aNew Statesman article by Ritchie Calderbut not Calder’s book The Lesson ofLondon (1941). He prints a list of the peri-odicals he consulted, but it does notinclude The Daily Telegraph, The DailyWorker, or any of the big provincial dailiesother than The Manchester Guardian, orThe Journal of the Air Raid ProtectionInstitute, effectively the mouthpiece of theInstitute’s influential and knowledgeablechairman, Oliver Simmonds M.P. He dis-cusses several novels but not the one fic-tional evocation of the fears of the periodthat is still in print, George Orwell’sComing Up For Air (1939), with its unfor-gettable description of an A.R.P. practice,or rather, parade (“Get the kids war-mind-ed. Give us all the feeling that there’s noway out of it, the bombers are coming assure as Christmas, so down to the cellaryou go and don’t argue. . . . Already we’relistening for the first bomb.”). And therather weak discussion of air-raid shelterpolicy would have been greatly improved ifhe had looked at the relevant pages inC.M. Kohan’s volume in the CivilHistories, Works and Buildings (1952).Come to that, the archival sources, both atKew and in municipal archives (which hedid not consult) have been used in some ofthe secondary works that should haveappeared in his bibliography in place of anumber of irrelevant items that are listed.A better directed programme of readingmight have drawn Holman’s attention tothe fact that though there was no panic orbreak-down of administration in Londonin 1940-1941, and that the concept of“nerve centres” dates not from the 1900sbut from the 1880s and had itsantecedents even earlier.

In the end this book is a testimony notto Holman’s hard work but to the inade-quacies of his doctoral supervisors. Theanalytic framework he attempts to imposehas all the hallmarks of a doctoral disser-tation adjusted to the demands of supervi-

sors who themselves knew little about thesubject. Or perhaps Holman added thisattempt at analysis while rewriting hisPh.D. for publication. Either way this is abook that, like so many reheated doctoraldissertations, would have benefited frommore thought and more reading.

Arnold D. Harvey, Ph.D., novelist and his-torian, UK

The Earhart Enigma: RetracingAmelia’s Last Flight. By Dave Horner.Gretna, Louisiana: Pelican Publishing,2013. Photographs. Bibliography Pp. 480.$19.94. ISBN: 978-145561781-4

Google Amelia Earhart and you get1.5 million hits. Google Amelia EarhartDisappearance and it’s still a staggering147 thousand hits. For more than seventy-five years, Earhart’s disappearance hasbeen discussed in print, film, and, now, online. Webster’s Dictionary defines enigmaas someone or something that is difficultto understand or explain. Amelia andFred’s disappearance somewhere in theSouth Pacific is clearly an enigma!

There are three scenarios on the ulti-mate fate of Amelia and her navigator,Fred Noonan: 1) Flying from Lea, NewGuinea, to Howland Island (near theEquator and International Date Lineintersection) they landed due to fuelexhaustion in the Marshall Islands andwere picked up by the Japanese. 2) Flyingfrom Lea to Howland they landed due tofuel exhaustion on an island or ditched atsea and died awaiting rescue that nevercame. And 3) They were alive and wellwith her living in New Jersey as late as1970.

A careful reading of his Acknow -ledgments suggests where Horner will endup: the first scenario. A lifelong divingenthusiast, he became interested in Ear -hart’s disappearance when a friend invitedhim along on a search of the waters sur-rounding Howland. Over the years he hasstudied books, U.S. Government reports,and other reports and papers. He makesno mention of Elgin Long (who believesEarhart disappeared near Howland) or ofRic Gillespie (who believes she landed onGardner Island, 300 miles south ofHowland and died awaiting rescue thatnever came). The one person he is mostindebted to is Fred Goerner, author of TheSearch for Amelia Earhart. Goerner, aKCBS-radio personality, hosted a weekdayafternoon talk show during the 1960s. Oneafternoon he interviewed several residentsof Saipan who remembered seeing a whitewoman and man being escorted by several

Japanese soldiers. These residentsdescribe how the soldiers talked of howthey were “rescued” and then hearing gun-shots. These interviews began Goerner’slong search for the ultimate fate ofEarhart. Reviewing Georner’s papers andresearch convinced Horner that Goernerwas a few pieces short of solving the mys-tery. Essentially, then, The EarhartEnigma is Horner’s continuation ofGeorner’s work.

Horner revisited interviews by othersof citizens of the Marshalls and Saipanand U.S. Military to gain further knowl-edge. One striking piece of evidence thatHorner turned up is “Genevieve’sDiscovery,” a note in a bottle washed up ona Bay of Biscay beach in October 1938.Written by a prisoner in the Marshalls, thenote’s writer mentions Amelia Earhart byname as well as a mechanic in anothercell.

The first two-thirds of the book startswith a very edge-of-your-seat account ofthe fliers’ last leg to Howland Island.Horner covers the Itasca, the Coast Guardcutter tasked to provide radio fixes forEarhart to find the island; a history ofHowland and its importance; the aviatorsand their support personnel; the Lockheed10 Electra; and an account of the six weekjourney around the world. The final thirdof the book presents Horner’s theory onthe fate of the fliers, with several appen-dices presenting the proof for the basis ofhis conclusion. The first two-thirds aresome of the best writing of the Earhart dis-appearance I’ve read to date. The finalthird is, of course, speculation, since noconcrete proof (e.g., a known serial numberof a part of her Electra) has ever beenfound.

Whether this work will enhance orchange what a reader believes happenedto the doomed aviators is open for ques-tion. However, if one is new to the Earhartdisappearance and wants a great intro-duction to the Earhart-Japanese scenario,Horner’s work is a great place to start.

Scott Marquiss, National Air and SpaceMuseum, Mall and Udvar-Hazy CenterDocent

Why Mars: NASA and the Politics ofSpace Exploration. By W. Henry Lam -bright. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Univer -sity Press, 2014. Notes. Index. Pp. xii, 321.$49.95 ISBN: 978-1-4214-1279-5

With two rovers�Opportunity and theconsiderably larger, more sophisticatedCuriosity�actively trekking across the sur-face of Mars, collecting valuable scientific

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data and searching for signs of life, shouldwe assume Mars exploration has a pre-dictably bright future? Professor Lam -bright of Syracuse University, while hope-ful for such a future, understands howunpredictable policy formulation can be atthe nexus of science and politics, wheredesires and fiscal realities mesh or collide.In Why Mars, Lambright identifies fivedistinct eras of policymaking, with a sixthpresumably beginning in 2016, related toMars exploration. He finds that failures,ironically, triggered policy changes andresulted in program reformulations thathave advanced Mars exploration.

Mindful that people, acting individu-ally or in concert, make history, Lambrightargues that an “advocacy coalition” haspropelled Mars exploration. The individu-als within that coalition have come andgone over time, but they have includedsuch luminaries as astronomer CarlSagan, science fiction writer RayBradbury, politician Al Gore, JPL advan -ced-program manager Louis Friedman,astrochemist and NASA manager WesleyHuntress, NASA Administrator DanGoldin, and a host of others. Some of thoseindividuals also expressed their senti-ments through interest groups, such as thePlanetary Society, the Mars Underground,and the later Mars Society founded by BobZubrin. Why Mars presents a detailedaccount of how those individuals andgroups countered opponents within NASAitself, at the Office of Management andBudget, and in Congress to perpetuateMars exploration�a program of programs.

With skillful dexterity, Lambright hasmined an impressive amount and varietyof source material, from which he has con-structed an analytically superb narrative.Perusal of his endnotes exposes hisbreadth of research across official NASAhistories, narrower academic volumes,trade magazines, professional or academicjournals, newspapers, and websites. Thenotes also reveal the depth of his relianceon NASA History Office and JetPropulsion Laboratory (JPL) files, person-al interviews and correspondence, oral his-tories, and unpublished papers. Despiteseveral relatively recent, praiseworthytechnical studies on various Mars mis-sions, Why Mars provides the mostthoughtful and thorough explanation todate of NASA’s successful strategy to gainpublic and political support for Marsexploration during the mid 1990s andagain, after twin failures, in 1999.

Lest anyone doubt that history caninform our understanding of the presentand enlighten prospects for tomorrow,Lambright’s volume carries the policy-making story of Mars exploration up to thepoint where he sent the manuscript to the

publisher. He even peeks into a probablefuture, which seems fraught with dimin-ished fiscal outlays and uncertainty about“the journey ahead.” Still, he finds solacein humankind’s intrinsic need to explore.

Any mandatory reading list for NASAmanagers or space historians ought tohighlight Lambright’s book. Furthermore,defense experts and military historiansshould avoid thinking the subject matterof Why Mars irrelevant. The researchmethodology and analytical model used toproduce this narrative might bear equallyrewarding fruit if applied to historicalstudies of the acquisition and employmentof various types of weapon systems; of mil-itary leadership and defense managementin peacetime or war; and of DefenseDepartment efforts to establish cost-shar-ing relationships with other governmentorganizations, commercial enterprises, orforeign entities.

Dr. Rick W. Sturdevant, Deputy Director ofHistory, HQ Air Force Space Command

Alexander P. de Seversky and theQuest for Air Power. By James K.Libbey. Washington, D.C.: Potomac Books,2013. Photographs. Notes. Bibliography.Index. Pp. xii, 349. $39.95 ISBN: 978-1-61234-179-8

Libbey is a professor emeritus atEmory-Riddle University, where he taughtAmerican aviation history and American-Soviet relations. He brings ideal qualifica-tions to this work on the Russian immi-grant who passionately argued for anindependent American air force andremained an advocate of air power untilhis death in 1974.

De Seversky today may best beremembered for authoring Victory throughAir Power and later appearing in a WaltDisney feature film as himself. However,his lifetime achievements in aviation gobeyond his time in the media spotlight.Libbey traces de Seversky’s life from hisearly interest in aviation in St. Petersburg,Russia, to his final years when his obses-sion with air power began to underminehis credibility as a media commentator ontechnology and military affairs. To say deSeversky entered aviation on the groundfloor is almost an understatement. Hisfather purchased a 1909 Farman and a1910 Bleriot while de Seversky wasattending the Russian naval academy,from which he would graduate as an offi-cer at the outbreak of World War I in 1914.De Seversky flew with his father and withhis father’s friend, Igor Sikorsky.Ultimately, de Seversky would become a

naval aviator serving with distinction inthe Baltic, where he lost his lower rightleg. Despite this handicap, he eventuallyreturned to combat.

The Bolsheviks’ ascension to powerforced the de Seversky family to flee to thewest. De Seversky cunningly did so, join-ing a Russian naval mission in the UnitedStates. He established ties with Americanmilitary flyers and became a disciple ofWilliam “Billy” Mitchell. In time, he wasawarded the rank of major in the U.S.Army.

Throughout the 1920s, de Seversky’sactive mind led him to patent a number ofdevices including a bombsight that wouldevolve into the better-known Norden.Meanwhile, he excelled as a stunt pilot atair shows and worked with Sikorsky onhis seaplane development. De Seversky’spassion for seaplanes and amphibiansdated from his World War I days. Heformed his own company intending tobuild amphibians but transitioned intofighter aircraft. Failing to meet his con-tract obligations led to a falling out withGeneral Henry “Hap” Arnold. They wouldmaintain a relatively bitter relationshipuntil Arnold’s death in 1949.

A clever designer, de Seversky repeat-edly failed as a businessman. He eventual-ly lost control of his aircraft company,which evolved into Republic Aircraft.Turning to other endeavors, he emerged asAmerica’s No. 1 commentator on aviationthrough the 1940s and 1950s.

Without maps of the Eastern Baltic,the World War I combat accounts are diffi-cult to follow. In addition, photographs ofthe de Seversky-designed aircraft wouldhave been appreciated. Despite these defi-ciencies, I highly recommend this book foranyone with an interest in the evolution ofaviation from World War I into the ColdWar. While the perspective is necessarilynarrow, it provides insight into one of thenation’s more influential aviation person-alities. Though de Seversky neverachieved the financial success of his com-petitors, he established his own legacy.

Lt. Col. Steven D. Ellis, USAFR (Ret.),Docent, Museum of Flight, Seattle, Wash.

Selma to Saigon: The Civil RightsMovement and the Vietnam War. ByDaniel S. Lucks. Lexington: University ofKentucky Press, 2014. Photographs.Notes. Bibliography. Index. Pp. viii, 366.$35.00 ISBN: 978-0-8131-4507-5

Since the 1960s, historians and spe-cialists in other disciplines have writtenmuch about the Vietnam War and much, if

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not more, about the civil rights movement.Fewer, such as Lawrence Eldridge andSimon Hall, have focused on interrelatedaspects of the conflict in Southeast Asiaand the civil rights struggle in the UnitedStates. Now, in Selma to Saigon, DanielLucks drills deeply into how leaders of thecivil rights movement responded to risingantiwar sentiment during the 1960s. Heconcludes that the Vietnam War supplant-ed civil rights as the most pressing issueand polarized the struggle for racial justiceat home, ultimately derailing prospects forfurther advances in civil rights after pas-sage of the Voting Rights Act in 1965.

A refinement of Lucks’s doctoral dis-sertation at the University of California,Berkeley, Selma to Saigon begins with anexplanation of how leaders of the NationalAssociation for the Advancement of Colo -red People (NAACP) sought self-preserva-tion during the early 1950s: they aban-doned left-wing opposition to racism andanti-colonialism and pragmatically adopt-ed Cold War liberalism. The organizationpurged itself of ties to communism andother left-wing ideologies. As Americanmilitary activity in Vietnam intensifiedduring the latter half of the 1960s, NAACPleader Roy Wilkins and the organization’shierarchy refused to criticize PresidentLyndon Johnson’s conduct of the war.

More than anything else, the emer-gence of the Student Nonviolent Coor -dinating Committee (SNCC) in the early1960s “emboldened and reoriented thecivil rights movement, giving it an anti-imperialist and pacifist sensibility.” Itsfidelity to nonviolence shaped SNCC’sopposition to U.S. military action abroad,and its identification with foreign anticolo-nial struggles left the organization’s mem-bership open to communists and otherleft-wing thinkers. Air Force veteranJames Forman and other SNCC leadershad little or no compunction about criticiz-ing the war from 1965 onward. By the fallof 1966, SNCC’s Stokely Carmichaelbecame the outspoken advocate of BlackPower, which undermined alliancesbetween civil rights and white peaceactivists.

Between those opposites�NAACP andSNCC�stood civil rights leader ReverendMartin Luther King, Jr., who consistentlyadvocated nonviolent direct action. Kingvacillated on speaking out against the warduring 1964–1966. Gradually, however, heshifted his attention to racial injustice,poverty, and war out of frustration withslow civil rights reform after 1965 and agrowing awareness that his constituencywas becoming antiwar. A transformativemoment occurred on January 14, 1967,when King saw pictures of Vietnamesechildren mutilated by American napalm

bombs. Once and for all, King resolved tobreak with President Johnson and pro-claim his unequivocal opposition to theVietnam War.

Lucks has skillfully plumbed animpressive variety of primary mate -rial�manuscript and microfilm collections,oral histories, telephone recordings, tran-scripts, and personal memoirs�and sec-ondary sources, such as biographies, histo-ries, and academic journals, to craft anamazingly detailed social history. Hisanalysis of how the civil rights and anti-war movements intertwined and affectedeach other is breathtaking in its complexi-ty. For those who lived through the confu-sion of the 1960s, Selma to Saigon pro-vides some perceptive clarity. For ayounger generation unfamiliar with thoseevents, this book might prove too dauntingas a starting point, but its content sug-gests numerous avenues for developing abetter understanding of one of the mosttraumatic decades in American history.

Dr. Rick W. Sturdevant, Deputy Director ofHistory, HQ Air Force Space Command

Shifting Sands: Air Coercion andIraq, 1991-2003. By J. R. McKay. Ottawa,Ontario: Canadian Forces AerospaceWarfare Centre Production Section, 2014.Bibliography. Pp. 189. E-publication ISBN978-1-100-54623-0.

This is an interesting review of theuse of air power as an instrument of coer-cion in Iraq, presented by a Canadian, whois an Assistant Professor at the RoyalMilitary College of Canada.

McKay goes into great detail in out-lining the meaning of “coercion.” He goeson to examine coercive attempts duringthree American political administrations:Bush the elder, Clinton, and Bush thejunior—outlining their successes and fail-ures. He also discusses the Coalition(nations): Britain, France, Saudi Arabiaand the Gulf Cooperation Council States,and Turkey—describing their motivationsand the limiting political and economicfactors affecting their support for variouscoercive measures that were proposed orimplemented.

The book examines specific opera-tions: Desert Storm, the aftermath involv-ing the Kurds, Provide Comfort/ProvideComfort II, Southern Watch, January1993, Vigilant Warrior, Desert Strike, andDesert Fox.

In his final chapter, McKay assessesthe triumphs and failures of coercive mea-sures as carried out through air power. I

disagree with an early sentence of hiswhere he states “Cruise missiles and airpower are swift means of applying force ina controllable manner.” He apparentlymeans “manned aircraft” when he uses theterm air power. To me air power includescruise missiles as well as manned aircraft.For that matter, ballistic missiles shouldalso be included.

This book is appropriate for war-col-lege-level discussion of air power, coercivemeasures involving air power, and the like.It is not light reading by any means, but itis a thought-provoking introduction to animportant subject.

I checked Amazon.com, looking for abook price but it is not listed there, evenusing the ISBN code. I also looked up theCanadian Forces Aerospace WarfareCenter (CFAWC—the publisher) on theinternet and found that the site lists anumber of books that can be downloaded.Apparently this one is too newly publishedto be currently listed. The printed volumeI reviewed has both English and Frenchtexts. The Canadian Government Publica -tions website indicates that as of 2014 alltheir government publications will beavailable in electronic media only.

Capt. John F. O’Connell, USN (Ret.),Docent, National Air and Space Museum

The First Eagles: The FearlessAmerican Aces Who Flew with theRAF in World War I. By Gavin Mortimer.Minneapolis, Minn.: Zenith Press, 2014.Photographs. Appendixes. Bibliography.Index. Pp 240. $30.00. ISBN: 978-0-7603-4639-6.

The First Eagles resurrects the spiritsof Americans who flew for the BritishRoyal Flying Corps (RFC) in World War I.Photographs of the pilots and their air-planes help to bring to life events from acentury ago. Author Gavin Mortimer’sresearch relied on the flyers’ letters andjournals, squadron diaries, archives, andmemoirs.

Mortimer begins by explaining that,prior to World War I, American leadershad little faith in the airplane. In 1914,Congress created the Aviation Section ofthe Signal Corps, approving a strength ofsixty officers and two hundred sixty enlist-ed men. A month later when war startedin Europe, the Aviation Section had onlyfive aircraft. As a result, Americans whowanted to fly against Germany joined theRFC.

Although American volunteers didnot enter the war until late in 1917, theyarrived when needed most. Following the

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April 1918 German offensive, of 1,200 RAF(the RFC had been renamed and orga-nized as the Royal Air Force on April 1,1918) aircraft on the Western Front, only200 had not been destroyed or damagedbeyond repair, Mortimer says.

The book is entertaining becauseMortimer presents a long string of storiesabout the American flyers’ behavior over-seas in training and in combat. He focuseson a trio of Americans who call themselvesThe Three Musketeers. During training,their talents to sing and play blues on thepiano and to dance ragtime make themthe darlings of England’s fashionable soci-ety. They are wined and dined and partakeof much “horizontal refreshment.”

The mood changes when The ThreeMusketeers, along with hundreds of otherAmericans, reached France and facedexperienced German pilots. They quicklylearned that every pilot stood an excellentchance of crashing at some stage, either byaccident or as a result of enemy fire. TheAmericans initially are limited to patrol -ling and escorting as they learn battle tac-tics through trial and error. Under theguidance of men such as Billy Bishop—theleading British ace—twenty-eight of theAmerican volunteers eventually becameaces themselves.

Mortimer takes his research full circleby summarizing the post-war lives of hismost prominent subjects. Several of thesepilots went on to serve in World War II aswell.

Lt. Col. Henry Zeybel, USAF (Ret.), Austin,Texas

The Crash of Little Eva: The UltimateWorld War II Survivor Story. By BarryRalph. Gretna Louisiana: Pelican, 2006.Index. Maps. Sources. Photographs. Pp.209. $15.96 ISBN: 978-1-58980-447-0

Last reviewed under its original titleof Savage Wilderness: The Epic OutbackSearch for the Crew of Little Eva (AirPower History Fall 2006), this book is aU.S. reissue of a volume first published inAustralia in 2004. Little Eva describes theoutcome of the first mission of 90th BombGroup B–24D Liberator 41-23762 onDecember 2, 1942 over New Guinea.Becoming lost in violent thunderstorms onreturn from the mission, Little Eva flewdeep into the wild and sparsely populatedinterior of northeast Australia. With fueldwindling, the crew bailed out. The ensu-ing five-month ordeal in the hostile jungleclaimed the lives of all but three.

Australian Barry Ralph wrote a

groundbreaking book about the interac-tions of U.S. soldiers and Australians dur-ing World War II, They Passed This Way:The United States of America, The States ofAustralia and World War II (2000).Unfortunately, Little Eva makes foruneven reading. The first two chapterssummarize the history of the Army AirForces, early U.S. military effort in theSouth West Pacific, and the B–24Liberator. Ralph’s attempt to condense anadmittedly complex era into a few pages isoccasionally awkward and inaccurate. Imissed such key developments as thenumerous aviation boards, establishmentof GHQ Air Force, and Rex interception;Lindbergh is cited as an expert on aviationwithout the context of his isolationistactivities. Aside from Geoffrey Perrets’Winged Victory, the bibliography is disap-pointingly thin. Air Force histories byStephen McFarland (1997), David Ander -ton (1989) and Bill Yenne (1992) were allrecently published at the time. EricBergerud, Fire in the Sky (2001); ThomasGriffith, MacArthur’s Airman (1998); orSteve Birdsall, Flying Buccaneers (1977)all cover the South West Pacific air war.The account of the B–24’s development isfairly complete but would have been bol-stered by such works as those of Birdsall(1973), Robert Dorr (1999), MartinBowman (1995), and Frederick A Johnsen(1999). The Preface does not mention con-sultation with fellow Australian SteveBirdsall, dean of the South West Pacific airwar.

The account of the 90th BG’s historyis solidly based on interviews with veter-ans, group records, and Wiley Woods’Legacy of the 90th Bombardment Group:the Jolly Rogers (1994). However, opportu-nities are missed to exploit evidence. Forinstance, following the unsuccessful inau-gural November 16, 1942, mission, addi-tional training was ordered for the 90th.This episode, which emphasized the unit’slack of experience, is not mentioned.

Ralph is on surer ground withdescriptions of Australian terrain, climate,wildlife, people, places, and institutions.He admits that—true to the originaltitle—the search itself was his inspirationto write this book. Meticulous files main-tained by local police constitute the book’sstrongest evidence, and the narrationpaints a vivid picture of the harsh localconditions. Better organization of sectionsnarrating the crew’s trek through thewilderness and the searchers’ effortswould have enhanced their impact, espe-cially where they tragically missed oneanother by a relatively narrow margin.

The use of Australian terms andspellings adds local flavor, although a glos-sary would have been helpful. Beyond

that, occasional typographical (“cowell” for“cowl”) and grammatical errors shouldhave been corrected for this reissue.

The where-are-they-now conclusion isinformative, but even brief coverage ofhow the experience of Little Eva’s crew(and other early-war incidents such asthat of Lady Be Good) spurred improve-ments in survival and search and rescuetraining and techniques would nicely haverounded out the story.

Endnotes, or at least chapter notes,would have been helpful in understandingthe use of sources. The map of northeastAustralia is well-labeled and informative.Culled from police files and private collec-tions, the photos vividly illustrate LittleEva’s crew, the B–24 Liberator, the crashscene, its aftermath, local conditions, andsearchers and are tied to the text withdetailed captions.

Little Eva explores at length a facet ofthe air war often skimmed over by surveyhistories. Those interested in the earlydays of the South West Pacific air war willfind this book a valuable addition to theirlibraries.

Steve Agoratus, Hamilton, New Jersey

Allied Master Strategists: The Com -bined Chiefs of Staff in World War II.By David Rigby. Annapolis, Md.: NavalInstitute Press, 2012. Maps. Tables. Illus -trations. Notes. Bibliography. Index. Pp.xvi, 270. $29.95 ISBN: 978-1-61251-081-1

This is the first published work byDavid Rigby, a history instructor at col-leges in and around Boston. He examines,on a thematic basis, the personalities andinteractions of the military leaders whoexecuted the Western Allies’ grand strate-gy while advising U.S. President FranklinD. Roosevelt and British Prime MinisterWinston Churchill throughout World WarII. In the bibliography, Rigby lists fourunpublished works on European Theaterstrategy, Pacific Theater strategy, strategicbombing of Europe, and economic mobi-lization that he wrote in the early 1990s.Presumably, this earlier research servedas the foundation for his current book.

Rigby begins by introducing the keyfigures. Nearly 20 percent of the text isdevoted to these biographical sketches,which read like expanded encyclopedicentries. Besides the leaders of the variousmilitary branches, he includes those officerswho exerted considerable influence but, inhis opinion, were slightly lower in stature.

Next, Rigby offers his perspective onhow the two nations’ military commandstructures evolved into their organization-

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al formats during the war. He particularlyemphasizes the role of the British JointStaff Mission in Washington. Perhaps sur-prisingly, he examines only one of theRoosevelt-Churchill conferences in anydetail, using the January 1943 Casa -blanca Conference as an example of theseintense and contentious gatherings.

The remaining chapters discussAllied strategy in the Pacific, the morefavorable Allied position versus the Axisregarding internal cooperation and mobi-lization of resources, discussions concern-ing the Allied invasion of France versus amore aggressive Mediterranean strategy,military leaders’ relationships with so-called “armchair strategists,” examples ofthe Combined Chiefs’ relationships withtheater commanders, and the CombinedChiefs’ influence on military mobilizationand their involvement with diplomaticissues.

Discussions of the Combined BomberOffensive directed at Germany and thebombing of Japan are covered in less thana dozen pages. Military aviation buffs willfind a few nits to pick. For example, theLockheed P–38 is mentioned as beingeffective in close air support and interdic-tion, while the Republic P–47—the back-bone of the Ninth Air Force in France inthe summer and fall of 1944—is omitted.

Rigby understandably makes fre-quent references to the various strategicconferences, sometimes by name andsometimes by location. An appendix list-ing the major conferences including loca-tion, date, and perhaps a note or two as tothe significance would have been mostuseful, particularly for readers previouslyunfamiliar with them.

While I would have preferred agreater emphasis on why decisions andpolicies developed the way they did, thiswork provides a starting place for under-standing the personalities that affectedAnglo-American grand strategy and coali-tion warfare in World War II.

Lt. Col. Steve Ellis, USAFR (Ret.), docent,Museum of Flight, Seattle

Red Devils Over the Yalu. By IgorSeidov. Stuart Britton ed. and trans.Solihull, UK: Helion & Company Ltd,2014. Tables. Photographs. Notes. Appen -dices. Glossary. Index. Pp. xx, 598. $49.95ISBN: 978-1-9093842-41-5

“An excuse is the skin of a reasonstuffed with a lie” (Billy Sunday, 1914).Seidov’s Red Devils Over the Yalu is anexcuse for a military aviation historybook—and a poor one at that. Seidov is an

ardent Soviet aviation enthusiast but anundisciplined amateur historian, unhelp-fully assisted by “Argentine historian”Diego Zampini. This English-languageversion is the third iteration of Seidov’sstory of how the Soviet MiG–15 pilots wonthe air war over North Korea by amassingmore “victories claimed than the U.S. willadmit aircraft lost.”

The foundation of his assertion is hisunbridled acceptance of North Korean,Chinese, and Russian victory claims asfact while vilifying and denouncing allAmerican and British documentation ofaircraft and aircrew lost as fallacious pro-paganda (i.e., “lies”). By doing so he con-cludes that the Soviet pilots—whoclaimed 650 Sabres shot down in two-and-a-half years of combat—won the battle forair superiority against the USAF; a thor-ough, independent analysis of USAFKorean War records shows 224 F–86swere lost in Korea to all causes. The booklacks totally any source references forSeidov’s misinformation, relying insteadon Zampini’s selective internet research.

Seidov and Zampini’s search for sub-stantiated American losses to fulfil theSoviet claims reaches far and wide, occa-sionally including Japan-based aircraft(other than F–86s) that had accidents ontraining or functional test flights. Such istheir quest to verify every kill claim madeby Soviet aviators, that Seidov asserts thatCaptain Vorobev’s February 3, 1951 victo-ry credit—claimed as an “F–94 Starfighter[sic],” a type not deployed to Korea untilthe next month and not allowed to flynorth of the front lines until January1953—was actually “a twin-engine combattraining aircraft, the T–33A” that (healleges) was shot down on a visual recon-naissance mission over Singisiu (his namefor Sinuiju) two days later!

As can be imagined from this exam-ple, Seidov’s technical knowledge, espe-cially of western aircraft, is grossly defi-cient, crediting the F–86 with an engine“supercharger” that occasionally allowedit to escape MiG attacks and that its A-1C(M) range-only radar was able to locateMiGs in murky weather. He uses anassortment of disconcertingly bogus orga-nizational titles and acronyms, and hisgeographical knowledge is grossly flawed:Yangste is a river in China, not a location(for a North Korean flight school—thatwas Yanji, in Jilin Province). Qingdao (for-merly the colonial Tsingtao) is on thecoast, not “deep in the interior of southernChina.” Erroneous data such as theseruinously discredit this book.

But between his flawed premise andhis false conclusions, Seidov supplies awealth of detail and data regarding Sovietunits, commanders, pilots, and operations.

His accounting of Russian losses seemsaccurate and tallies well (within 30 percent) with other sources, includingUSAF’s official victory credits. His book isbest when reading the many personalaccounts, allowing the Russian comman-ders and pilots to speak for themselvesabout their combat experiences.

Seidov’s book would have been muchbetter if he had limited himself to pre-senting the facts of the Soviet side of theconflict—as his title infers—rather thanattempting to convince the reader of thecorrectness of his opinion. In that case itwould have been a very readable andvaluable book of about 200 pages. Becauseit includes approximately 400 pages ofmisinformation, Red Devils can only berecommended for only the most knowl-edgeable and discerning readers. For themilitary historian/enthusiast not yet well-informed on the Korean War, this bookshould only be read after all other sourceshave been exhausted.

Col. Douglas C. Dildy, USAF (Ret.), histo-rian & author, Albuquerque, New Mexico

Unsung Eagles: True Stories ofAmerica’s Citizen Airmen in theSkies of World War II. By Lt. Col. (Ret.)Jay A. Stout. Havertown, Pennsylvania:Casemate Publishers, 2013. Index. Pp.288. $32.95 ISBN: 978-1-61200-209-5

Unsung Eagles consists of first-handaccounts of the experiences of Americanswho matured in the 1930s and becamemilitary pilots in World War II. Whatmotivated them? How did they becomecombat military aviators? What weretheir reflections on the outcome later inlife? This book more than answers thosequestions, giving the reader uniqueinsights into the American tradition of thecitizen soldier. Jay Stout, an award-win-ning military historian (Fortress Ploestiand The Men who Killed the Luftwaffe), isa Marine Corps F/A–18 pilot veteran ofDesert Storm familiar with the experi-ences of his subjects. His descriptions ofaerial combat, strafing, bad-weather fly-ing, navigation issues, or fear ring true.

Stout sought an angle on aerial battlesuntold in standard histories, asking his sub-jects about their childhoods, interest in avi-ation, joining the military, training andcombat, and subsequent lives. For example,most writings on the Yamamoto missionconcentrate on the relatively few shooters;but Julius Jacobson, of the top-cover flight,related a new perspective on that mission.Donald Whitright searched in low-levelP–47 patrols for pilots downed in freezing

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English Channel waters; Willard Caddellflew reconnaissance in F–5 (P–8) aircraft;and Marine pilot Emilius Ciampa conduct-ed forward air control in the Philippines.

A short background of the campaign inwhich the subject flew precedes each chap-ter. The battles are well known; the partici-pants’ perspectives shed fresh light on them.It’s one thing to know that Admiral Kurita’sships “suddenly closed in on” AdmiralSprague’s escort carriers as so many histo-ries relate; it’s quite another to read howAvenger pilot Ray Crandall had to bedragged out of his bunk on the USS ManilaBay to see them right outside his porthole!

The unfettered personal impressionsStout elicited from his subjects add a newdimension to the usual combat accounts.Despite months of heavy combat in gun-nose B–25s with the famed Air Apaches,Roman Ohnemus noted that the most fearhe ever felt was during a bad weatherlanding! No one will ever comment on howthe P–51 changed the air war over Europebetter than Herman Schonenberg, whoexclaimed that it had enough gas “to cre-ate your own excitement.”

Readers of works that rely on personalrecollections such as Gerald Astor’s TheMighty Eighth: the Air War in Europe asTold by the Men Who Fought it; Rob Morris’sUntold Valor: Forgotten Stories of AmericanBomber Crews over Europe in World War II;or Osprey’s Combat Units series will findfamiliar ground in this book.

Unfortunately Unsung Eagles con-tains no maps to trace the often globaljourneys of its subjects. The carefullyselected photos, supplied by subjects wher-ever possible, illustrate salient points inthe text. The detailed index focuses on peo-ple, places, battles, and aircraft. In somecases, especially Far East locations, placename spellings differ from other sources; atable of comparative terms would havebeen helpful. Source citations, or at least abibliography, would have been helpful toprovide context or to check facts.

The author nicely sets the scene forhis interviewees and then lets them telltheir own story with minimal interlocu-tion. Crisply edited with the support offamed aviation writer Eric Hammel, thebriskly flowing text keeps the spotlight onthe subjects and engages the reader fromthe outset. This is a book you will turn totime and again to learn more about the cit-izen airmen who merit only a brief men-tion in basic histories.

Steve Agoratus, Hamilton, New Jersey

Area 51 Black Jets: A History of theAircraft Developed at Groom Lake,America’s Secret Aviation Base. ByBill Yenne. Minneapolis, Minn.: ZenithPress, 2014. Maps. Diagrams. Illustra -tions. Photo graphs. Prologue. Epilogue.Acronyms. Bibliography. Index. Pg.192.$40.00 ISBN-13:978-0-7603-4426-2

Author Bill Yenne, an expert in thisfield, has done an absolutely superb jobtracing the remarkable history of Area 51and accurately presenting the aircraft thathave been tested, developed, and fieldedunder very high-security conditions tomeet our nation’s needs. His incredibleselection of supporting pictures, maps, anddiagrams vividly brings the story alive.

President Eisenhower had assessed agrowing security risk to the U.S. fromunknown, but threatening, Soviet nuclearand strategic weapons developments. Itwas difficult to determine what theSoviets were developing and fielding andhow far along they were. Conventionalmilitary aircraft had been used for limitedoverflight and peripheral missions withthe loss of over fourteen aircraft and morethan 170 acknowledged aircrew members.A revolutionary new aircraft was neededspecifically designed for undetected over-flights, as the Soviets could view suchflights as potential acts of war.

Kelly Johnson, head of the Lockheed“Skunk Works,” developed the revolution-ary U–2 aircraft. But where could he testthis vehicle in utmost secrecy? A remotesite beside a dry lake inside the Nevadanuclear test area would provide excellentlanding strips for test aircraft. So beganthe legend of Area 51 with its magic, fasci-nation, and endless tales on what might beunder development in this isolated gov-ernment location.

The land surrounding Area 51 hadhosted more than 1,000 nuclear tests andthe attempted development of a nuclearrocket engine. This area had a long historyof very tight security—remote and secureyet easily accessible to major military andindustrial areas of the southwest. In April1955, Johnson visited the Groom LakeArea 51 location and approved the loca-tion. A bare-base facility was quicklydeveloped with a runway and airport com-plex known as the “Ranch,” “Watertown,”or “Dream Land.” The U–2 went from con-tract signing to first flight at Groom Lakein just nine months—August 1955. Tobring men and materials in and out of thislocation, a large government airlift wasestablished, later replaced by a flexible

private airline service that is still verymuch in operation today.

With increased risk to U–2 overflights,Eisenhower sought a new aircraft; theArchangel A–12 developed by Lockheed forthe CIA and DoD was the answer. Deri -vatives of the Blackbird were developed atBurbank. The USAF managed develop-ment of the YF–12A interceptor and theSR–71 strategic reconnaissance variants(Senior Crown). The YF–12A was tested inArea 51, whose runway had to be extendedand the overall complex greatly expandedto handle these new high performance air-craft.

A Mach-3 drone was developed to belaunched off the back of a modified A–12 tooverfly China. The Senior Bowl projectshifted to B–52H launch aircraft whichwere tested at Area 51.

Then the MiGs came to Area 51 fortesting and training: MiG–15s, –17s, –19sand, eventually, –21s and –23s. USAF,Navy, and Marine Corps aircrews wereexposed to the MiGs’ capabilities throughthe Constant Peg operational training pro-gram that was flown from Tonopah.

With the Have Blue program, newforms of aircraft body shaping, radar-defeating materials, and advanced flightcontrols ushered in a new era of significant-ly increased radar stealthiness. The SeniorTrend program resulted in sixty-five opera-tional F–117 stealth fighter aircraft thatwere deployed to Tonopah Air Base.

The mysterious Aurora program con-tinues to fascinate conspiracy believers.Some programs, such as the Tacit BlueWhale, take on unusual identities. Thisvehicle was successfully tested as astealthy Joint STARS-type but was deter-mined unsuitable for operations.

The Bird of Prey and LockheedRQ–170 are but a few of the things weknow about from Area 51. A large newhangar has been built. The future isbright, and the continuing need for anArea 51 is all the more evident. In Nevada,Highway 375 may end in Area 51, butadvanced development and employmentwork goes forward.

This book clearly captures the spirit,continuing national requirement, and suc-cesses that Area 51 has given us in thepast and gives us hope for more excitingcreations in the future! It is a must-buy foranyone interested in the mysteries of Area51.

Col. Buz Carpenter, USAF (Ret.), NASMUdvar-Hazy Center Docent

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Books ReceivedCleaver, Thomas McKelvey, Fabled Fifteenth: ThePacific War Saga of Carrier Air Group 15. Phila -delphia & Oxford: Casemate, 2014. Photographs.Bibliography. Index. Pp. 340. $32.95 ISBN: 978-1-6-1299-267-4

Fox, Michael C. To Rule the Winds: the Evolution ofthe British Fighter Force through Two World Wars,Vol. 1: Prelude to Air War—the Years to 1914. UK:Helion & Co., Ltd., 2014. Notes. Illustrations.Photographs. Bibliography. Index. Pp. xviii, 313.$69.95 ISBN: 978-1-909384-14-9

The Medal of Honor: A History of Service Above andBeyond. From the Editors of Boston Publishing Co.:Zenith Press, 2014. Notes. Illustrations. Photo -graphs. Appendix. Bibliography. Index. Pp. 304.$40.00 ISBN: 978-0-7603-4624-2

Mersky, Peter B, Whitey: The Story of rear admiralE. L. Freightner, A Navy Fighter Ace. Annapolis,Md.: Naval Institute Press, 2014. Maps. Notes.Photographs Appendices. Bibliography. Index. Pp.185.439.95 ISBN: 978-1-61251-791-1

PROSPECTIVE REVIEWERS

Anyone who believes he or she is qualified to substantively assess one of the new books listed above is invited to applyfor a gratis copy of the book. The prospective reviewer should contact:

Col. Scott A. Willey, USAF (Ret.)3704 Brices Ford Ct.Fairfax, VA 22033Tel. (703) 620-4139e-mail: [email protected]

Books Available to be Reviewed

Barzilai—102 Days of War: How Osama bin Laden, al Qaeda & the Taliban Survived 2001. 167p.Boston Pub Eds—The Medal of Honor: A History of Service Above and Beyond. 304p.Cleaver—Fabled Fifteen: The Pacific War Saga of Carrier Air Group 15. 240p.Dorn, ed.—Air Power in UN Operations: Wings for Peace. 350p. Dougherty, ed.—History of Rocketry and Astronautics, Vol 41 (AAS History Series). 446p.Homan & Reilly—Black Knights: The Story of the Tuskegee Airmen. 336p. Huddleston—An American Pilot with the Luftwaffe: A Novella. 94p. Popravak—The Oregon Air National Guard. 127p.Sine—Guardian Angel: Life and Death Adventures with Pararescue, the World’s Most Powerful Commando Rescue

Force. 239p.Snyder—Shot Down: The True Story of Pilot Howard Snyder and the Crew of the B–17 Susan Ruth. 360p.

Recent Publications from the Air Force Historical Support Division

Two recent works from the Air Force Historical SupportDivision. First, Dr. Jean A Mansavage has completed astudy of the USAF’s contribution to the development ofthe DoD conservation program. The second work is by Dr.Michael Rouland, a former intern in the Air ForceHistorical Studies Office now working for the NavalHistorical Center. His study focuses on the tangled histo-ry of Afghanistan and how it has ended up mired in thecurrent turmoil.

Available for download in PDF format at www.afhso.af.mil


2015January 2-5, 2015

The American Historical Associationwill hold its annual meeting in New YorkCity, New York. For details visit the Associa -tion’s website at www.historians.org.

January 5-9, 2015The American Institute of Aeronau -tics and Astronautics will hold its 53rdAIAA Aerospace Sciences Meeting in par-allel with its SciTech 2015 Forum andExhibition; these events will be held at theGaylord Palms and Convention Center inKissimmee, Florida. For more informationvisit the Institute’s website atwww.aiaa.org/Forums/.

February 7, 2015The American Aviation HistoricalSociety will co-host a gathering at thehistoric Flabob Airport in Rubideaux,California; its event partners include theAntique Aircraft Association and theInternational Stinson Club. The eventincludes historical presentations, an air-craft fly-in and a Stinson RestorationWorkshop. For details, visit the Society’swebsite at www.aahs-online.org.

February 11-13, 2015The Air Force Association will presentits 31st annual Air Warfare Symposiumand Technology Exposition at the RosenShingle Creek Hotel in Orlando, Florida.Invited speakers to the Symposium willinclude the Secretary of the Air Force, theUSAF Chief of Staff, and the Chief MasterSergeant of the Air Force. For furtherinformation, see the Association’s websiteat www.afa.org/AirWarfare/Home.

March 3-4, 2015The National Air and Space Museumand the History Office of the NationalAeronautics and Space Administra -tion (NASA) will co-sponsor a specialsymposium commemorating the creationof NASA’s forerunner, the NationalAdvisory Committee for Aeronautics, anda century of aerospace research and devel-opment. The symposium will be held inWashington, DC. For more details as theydevelop, check with the NASA HistoryOffice via its website, history.nasa.gov/.

March 7-14, 2015The American Institute of Aeronau -tics and Astronautics and the IEEE willco-sponsor their 36th annual Inter -national Conference for AerospaceExperts, Academics, Military Personnel,and Industry Leaders at the YellowstoneConference Center in Big Sky, Montana.For more information, visit the Institute’swebsite at www.aiaa.org/.

March 10-12, 2015The American Astronautical Societywill present its 53rd annual Robert H.Goddard Memorial Symposium inGreenbelt, Maryland. For more details asthey become available, see the Society’swebsite at astronautical.org/goddard.

March 29-31, 2015The Army Aviation Association ofAmerica, will host its 2015 MissionSolutions Summit at the Gaylord Opry -land Hotel in Nashville, Tennessee. Fordetails, including a schedule of events anda list of associated participating organiza-tions, see the Association’s website atwww.quad-a.org/2015summit/ index.php/proffer.

March 31-April 2, 2015The Association of the United StatesArmy, working in consort with the AUSAInstitute of Land Warfare, will present aGlobal Force Symposium and Exhibitionat the Von Braun Center in Huntsville,Alabama. For details, see the Association’swebsite at ausameetings.org/globalforce/

March 31-April 2, 2015The Armed Forces Communicationsand Electronics Association will hostan Air Operations Symposium at theHenry B. Gonzalez Convention Center inSan Antonio, Texas. The keynote addresswill be given by Secretary of the Air ForceDebra Lee James. For more information,see the Association’s website atwww.afcea.org/events/airops/15/.

April 9-12, 2015The Society for Military History willhold its annual meeting at the RenaissanceHotel in Montgomery, Alabama. This year’stheme will be “Conflict and Commemo -ration: the Influence of War on Society.” Foradditional information on the meeting, seethe Society’s website at www.smh-hq-org.

April 13-16, 2015The Space Foundation will host its 31stannual Space Symposium at theBroadmoor Hotel in Colorado Springs,Colorado. For more on the schedule andagenda, see the Foundation’s website atwww.spacesymposium.org/.

April 15-18, 2015The National Council on PublicHistory will hold its annual meeting inNashville, Tennessee. More information isat the Council’s website at www.ncph.org.

April 16-19, 2015The Organization of American Histo -rians will conduct its annual meeting atthe America’s Center Renaissance Hotel inSt. Louis, Missouri. More details at theOrganization’s website: www.oah.org.

April 24-25, 2015The Society for History in the FederalGovernment will hold its annual meet-ing at the Robert C. Byrd Center forLegislative Studies in Shepherdstown,West Virginia. This year’s theme is “Acrossthe Great Divide: Historical Research in aDigital World.” For meeting particulars,see the Society’s website atshfg.org/shfg/events/annual-meeting/.

May 4-7, 2015The Association for UnmannedVehicle Systems International willhost “Unmanned Systems 2015” at theGeorgia World Congress Center inAtlanta, Georgia. For program details, seethe Association’s website atwww.auvsi.org/events1/.

Compiled byGeorge W. Cully

Readers are invited to submit listings ofupcoming events Please include the name ofthe organization, title of the event, datesand location of where it will be held, as wellas contact information. Send listings to:

George W. Cully3300 Evergreen HillMontgomery, AL 36106(334) 277-2165E-mail: [email protected]


91st Tactical Fighter Squadron Sep24-27, 2015, Fairborn, OH Contact:

Dion Makris7152 Hartcrest Ln,Centerville, OH [email protected]

95th Bomb Group May 7, 2015, Dayton/Fairborn, OH Contact:

Meg Brackney261 Northwood Dr,Yellow Springs, OH [email protected]

97th Air Refueling Squadron Jun 18-21, 2015, Dayton/Fairborn, OH Contact:

Lou Kaelin57 Millbrook Rd,Stafford, VA [email protected]

98th Bomb Group/Wing Aug 27-30,2015, Fairborn, OH Contact:

Dennis Posey1780 Chasewood Park Ln,Marietta, GA [email protected]

950th Test Wing/Aria 328 MemorialMay 6, 2015, Fairborn, OH Contact:

Bob Beach1616 Ridgeway Dr,Springfield, OH [email protected]

PTC-55K Sep 3-6, 2015, Dayton/Fairborn, Ohio Contact:

Thomas RoeP.O. Box 25494,Patrick AFB, FL [email protected]

PTC-55V Sep 15-19, 2015, Dayton, OHContact:

Richard Brown388 23rd St SWLoveland, CO [email protected]

PTC-56M Apr 23-26, 2016, Fairborn, OHContact:

John Mitchell11713 Decade Ct,Reston, VA [email protected]

PTC-62A Oct 1-4, 2015, Fairborn, OHContact:

Dave Tippett227 Forest Creek Dr,Bozeman, MT [email protected]

PTC-65H (50th Anniversary) Oct 22-25, 2015, Fairborn, OH Contact:

Ken Normand4036 West Enon Rd,Fairborn, OH [email protected]

PTC-71-04 (Webb AFB) Oct 1-4, 2015,Fairborn, OH Contact:

Keith Houk1805 Creekwood Dr,Troy, OH [email protected]

Arc Light - Young Tiger Jun 15-18,2015, Fairborn, OH Contact:

Russell Stephenson4625 Broken Lute Way,Ellicott City, MD [email protected]

C-119 Flying Jennies 815th TCS,483rd TWC (Ashiya, Japan) Sep 10-12,2015, Dayton/Fairborn OH Contact:

Amy (Vincent) Richards502 N Union St,Union City, IN [email protected]

FB-111 Assn Sep 10-13, 2015, Fairborn,OH Contact:

Curt Nelson2584 Ridge Rd,Xenia, OH [email protected]

1965 Golden Flyers MS IV (UD ArmyROTC) Jun 12-14, 2015, Dayton, OHContact:

Norbert Wethington42 Glendale Ave,Fremont, OH [email protected]

Pleiku Pals May 21-24, 2015,Dayton/Fairborn OH Contact:

Earl Lanning1700 Utah Ct,Xenia, OH [email protected]

Redhorse Association 50thAnniversary Reunion Oct 12-16, 2015,Ft Walton Beach, FL Contact:

Greg MacDougalP.O. Box 936, Redhorse AssociationMidway, GA [email protected]

Saigon Mission May 1-2, 2015, Fairborn,OH Contact:

Harold Segerson468 Colonial Dr,Lexington, TN [email protected]

Super SabreApr 9-12, 2015, Dayton, OHContact:

Robert Hopkins317 S. Main St,Lexington, VA [email protected]

USAF/DOD Firefighters May 15-17,2015, Fairborn, OH Contact:

Karl Hainisch1109 Bern Cir,Anderson, SC [email protected]

U.S. Radar Sites Iceland, 677th,932nd, 933rd, 934th, AC&W Squa -drons Jun 8-11, 2015, Fairborn, OHContact:

William Chick104 Summit Point CreekChapin, SC [email protected]

Wild Weasels Oct 8-11, 2015, Fairborn,OH Contact:

Larry Lemieux10497 S 475 WWilliamsburg, IN [email protected]

Reunions

List provided by: Rob Bardua National Museum of the U.S. Air ForcePublic Affairs Division1100 Spaatz StreetWPAFB, OH 45433-7102(937) 255-1386


From 1968 to 1971, he served atPACAF Headquarters, the National WarCollege, and the Pentagon. In late 1971,he commanded the 86th Tactical FighterWing at Zweibrucken, West Germany.Promoted to general officer he served inTurkey, and was Director of MilitaryAssistance and Sales, Commandant of theIndustrial College of the Armed Forces,and DCS/Programs and Analyses.

After he retired from the USAF in1980, he joined McDonnell Douglas, theNational Defense Industrial Association,the American Air Museum in Britain. hewas appointed Commander of the BritishEmpire (CBE).

His wife Mary Hill, died in May 2011.General McInerney is survived by his girl-friend, his son, daughter, granddaughter,sister, and brother.

Washington Post, October 25, 2014

Max Rosenberg, 1923-2014

Max Rosenberg, the Deputy U.S. Air ForceHistorian from 1955 to 1977, died onSeptember 8, 2014, at the age of ninety-one. Mr. Rosenberg was born and raisedin Erie, Pennsylvania. He wrote the book,The Building of the Perry’s Fleet, 1812-1813. During World War II, he served inthe Army Air Forces. After his retirement,he worked for many years as a contracteditor for the Office of the Secretary ofDefense’s history program. Mr. Rosenbergwas very active in the Jewish Communityof Northern, Virginia. He is survived byhis wife Mimi, children Jan, Paul, andShelly, and five grandchildren.

Washington Post, September 8, 2014

Great Web Site

(Editor’s Note) The photo at right was usedas the opening pages (6-7) of our articlelast issue on the disappearance of Brig.Gen. Kenneth Walker in 1943. The web siteowners at www.warofourfathers.comgraciously granted Air Power History per-mission to use the photograph. The editorswould like to point out to our readers thatthere is a great deal more to be found atthe Web Site and recommend their readersgive it a visit. It’s well worth the timespent. www.warofourfathers.com

World War II veterans holding70th reunion

The Checkertail Association, theWorld War II veterans group for the 325thFighter Group will be holding its 70threunion in the fall of 2015 at Tyndall AirForce Base, Florida. We were invited tohold our reunion at Tyndall since it ishome to the 325th Fighter Wing, and allthe history and linage that started back in1942. We want to include all Checkertailsat this reunion. This will include our vet-erans who flew combat in Korea, duringthe Cold War, and our current veterans.After World War II our three squadrons,the 317th, 318th, and 319th FighterSquadrons did different missions andhave unique histories.

We are hoping to find as manyChecker tails as possible by doing a storyabout our upcoming reunion. The 319thFighter Interceptor Squadron does haveits own veterans group that covers fromthe Korean War until the squadron wasde-activated in 1977. We are working withthem, but the 317th and 318th do nothave veteran groups, but did fly through-out the Cold War. Our current veteransare from the 325th Fighter Wing, whichtrains F–22 pilots.

The WWII Checkertails have a longand bold history. Things like flying ArmyP–40s off the carrier USS Ranger when itwent to war in North Africa, earning twoDistinguished Unit Citations, and beingpart of the first “shuttle mission” toRussia are just a few examples. To learnmore about the 325th during World WarII, please visit our web page;Checkertails.org and our facebook page.While on facebook, please go to‘Checkertails di Lesina.’ The town ofLesina Italy recently dedicated a monu-ment to our WWII veterans for saving thetown and its people in 1944. To learn moreabout the 319th FIS, please visit;319th.com

Notices

Maj. Gen. James E. McInerney, Jr.,1930-2014

Maj. Gen. James E. McInerney, Jr. (USAF,Ret.), died on October 14, 2014. He wasborn in Springfield, Mass. on Aug. 30,1930.

He entered West Point in 1848, hav-ing served previously with the 82dAirborne Division. At West Point, he wascaptain of the boxing team and EasternIntercollegiate light-heavy weight cham-pion. following graduation he attendedflight school. He flew the F-86 in Korea.

In 1960, he was assigned to theMilitary Air Transport Service, where heferried many fighter aircraft. He thenwent to Princeton University. where heearned an MA in aeronautical engineer-ing and later was assigned to the R&Dsection of the USAF Fighter weaponsSchool at Nellis AFB, Nevada. He laterearned an mA in international relationsfrom GWU.

In 1963, he was assigned to the RAFstaff college at Bracknell, England. By1967, Lt. Col. McInerney took command ofthe 13th Tactical Fighter Squadron, in theSoutheast Asia War. He led the famous“Wild Weasel” flights, suppressing NorthVietnamese air defenses. Through hisleadership and training, the Weasels werevery successful. McInerney personallydestroyed seventeen SAM sites.

Among his decorations are the AirForce Cross, three Silver Stars, and sevenDistinguished Flying Crosses. He com-pleted 101 combat missions over NorthVietnam.

In Memoriam


Col. Jack Broughton, USAF (Ret.) 1925-2014

Born on January 4, 1925, in Utica, N.Y.Jacksel Markham Broughton was gradu-ated from the U.S. Military Academy atWest Point, but too late to fight in WorldWar II. However, he flew 114 missions inthe Korean War, including use of an exper-imental air-to-ground antitank rocket thatsaved many American lives. He wasassigned as an instructor and later as com-mander of the U.S. Air Force’s elite aero-batic team, the Thunderbirds. During theWar in Southeast Asia, he flew 102 mis-

sions, in the F-105, winning the Air ForceCross and two Silver Star medals. He wascourts-martialed during the Vietnam war,for allegedly violating the rules of engage-ment by striking against off-limits targets,thereby losing his chance to become a gen-eral officer. The main charges against himwere dropped. [He was accused and con-victed of firing on Soviet ships and thendestroying the gun-camera film,]. In 1968,after retiring from the Air Force, he lashedout against President Lyndon B. Johnson,and his Defense Secretary Robert S.McNamara for their incompetence inmicromanaging the war.

He wrote Thud Ridge in 1968, and inhis 1988 book, Going Downtown: The WarAgainst Hanoi and Washington, he criti-cized the American leaders for prohibitingthe USAF from striking enemy anti-air-craft weapons and other sanctuaries. Hewent on to write his memoir, Rupert RedTwo in 2007. After retirement he workedas a lead pilot for the Antilles Air Board,Rockwell and the space shuttle.

Jack Broughton is survived by hiswife, Alice, four children, a brother, andnine grandchildren.

Washington Post, November 11, 2014

Clark-Yudkin Research Fellowships at the Air Force Academy

Applications are being accepted for 2015 Clark-Yudkin Research Fellowships at the US Air Force Academy.These fellowships are sponsored by The Friends of the Air Force Academy Library to promote awareness anduse of the scholarly holdings available in the library’s Clark Special Collections Branch. Grants range from$1000 to $15,000 and are intended to assist visiting researchers with travel and living expenses during theirstay at the Academy. Applications are invited from senior and early career scholars, recent PhDs, andadvanced graduate students. Recipients are expected to complete their research within one year from thedate of the award.

For detailed descriptions of the holdings in the Clark Special Collections branch, go to the Air ForceAcademy Library home page: http://www.usafa.edu/df/dflib and then open the link to “Special Collections.”

Additional information and an application are available at The Friends’ home page: www.friends.usafal-ibrary.com , open the link to “Research Fellowship” and then scroll down to “Application and Overview.”Applications and related materials are due no later than March 1, 2015. Applicants will be notified of TheFriends’ decision in early April.

Questions concerning Clark-Yudkin fellowships may be submitted via email to [email protected]

We seek quality articles—based on sound scholarship, perceptive analysis, and/or firsthand experience—which arewell-written and attractively illustrated. The primary criterion is that the manuscript contributes to knowledge. Articlessubmitted to Air Power History must be original contributions and not be under consideration by any other publicationat the same time. If a manuscript is under consideration by another publication, the author should clearly indicate thisat the time of submission. Each submission must include an abstract—a statement of the article’s theme, its historicalcontext, major subsidiary issues, and research sources. Abstracts should not be longer than one page.

Manuscripts should be double-spaced throughout, and prepared according to the Chicago Manual of Style (University ofChicago Press). Use civilian dates and endnotes. Because submissions are evaluated anonymously, the author’s name shouldappear only on the title page. Authors should provide on a separate page brief biographical details, to include institutionalor professional affiliation and recent publications, for inclusion in the printed article. Pages, including those containing illus-trations, diagrams or tables, should be numbered consecutively. Any figures and tables must be clearly produced ready forphotographic reproduction. The source should be given below the table. Endnotes should be numbered consecutively throughthe article with a raised numeral corresponding to the list of notes placed at the end.

Electronic submissions are preferred. Articles should be submitted via e-mail as an attachment, in Microsoft Word.Electronic photographs and graphics should be copied to a CD and mailed if they exceed 5-8 megabytes.

There is no standard length for articles, but 4,500-5,500 words is a general guide.Manuscripts and editorial correspondence should be sent to Richard Wolf, Editor, c/o Air Power History, 6022 Cromwell

PL. Alexandria, VA 22315, e-mail: [email protected].

Guidelines for Contributors


2014 Foundation AwardsMajor General Dale W. Meyerrose,

USAF (Ret.), President and Chairman ofthe Board of the Air Historical Foun dation(left) served as Master of Cere monies atawards ceremonies on October 8, 2014.The awards ceremonies were observed bythe Central Missouri Honor FlightVietnam Vete rans (bottom left).

The Doolittle Award recognized thebest U.S. Air Force unit, the 19th AirliftWing from Little Rock AFB, Arkansas.The award ceremony (below right) washeld on a brisk day at the Air ForceMemorial in Arlington, Virginia, followedby remarks from Col Patrick J. Rhatigan,the commander of the 19th Wing (belowleft) and by Jonna Doolittle Hoppes,granddaughter of the legendary GeneralJimmy Doolittle (bottom right).

Later in the afternoon, the cere-monies relocated to the Army Navy Coun -try Club, where Lt. Gen. William J.

Foundation. The two awards are picturedat middle left. Gen Newton presented hisremarks (below left) while the cere-

monies were attended by a number of theTuskegee Airmen (below right). Theawards dinner was attended by more than

150 people. The two awards are shownabove left, the Spaatz Award to the left,and the Holley Award to the right.


Bender, Chief, Information Dominanceand Chief Information Officer at Head -quarters U.S. Air Force (below left, sec-ond from left), Maj. Gen. Meyerrose,(below left at left), honor Colonel WalterBoyne, USAF (Ret.) (below left, second

Award Winnersfrom right) with the I.B. HolleyAward, for lifetime achievements in writ-ing air power history, along with Col.William Dalecky, USAF (Ret.) from Pratt& Whitney. Col. Boyne followed up withhis remarks (below right). Gen. Lloyd W.

“Fig” Newton, USAF (Ret.) was recog-nized with the “Tooey” Spaatz Award forhis remarkable contributions to the U.S.Air Force (middle right). Lt. Gen Benderpresented the award, flanked by the cur-rent and previous Presidents of the


In our last issue, as we’ve done in each issue formore than a quarter century, we challenged AirPower History readers to identify a mystery aircraft.

Our final “Can you name it?” airplane was theDouglas XB–42 Mixmaster, a unique bomber designthat relied on pusher-prop power.

This was an unorthodox aircraft with a crew ofthree, powered by two Allison V-1710 liquid-cooledpiston engines, one for each contra-rotating pro-peller. Its first flight, in the hands of pilot BobBrush, took place on May 6, 1944. Douglas built twoXB–42s.

The XB–42 can claim to have been one of themost advanced piston-engine warplanes ever built—as fast as the speedy De Havilland Mosquito (at488 miles per hour in its final form) but with twicethe bombload (8,000 pounds). Had World War IIlasted longer, we might have seen swarms ofMixmasters in hostile skies.

As a child, I saw one of the XB–42s at BollingArmy Air Field in Washington, D.C. A day or so lateron December 16, 1945, that aircraft crashed. Thecrew survived. The mishap was found not to be dueto any flaw in the aircraft design.

The surviving XB–42 is part of the collection ofthe National Air and Space Museum. The designstrongly influenced the Douglas XB–43, anotherrare bird that was America’s first jet bomber.

In the past, this space has announced a winnerin the History Mystery contest and the awarding ofa prize.

This time around, no one entered our context.

In reflecting on how the “History Mystery” featuretouched many lives, it’s also time to reflect on gen-erational change and, in my case, no pun intended,to head for the door.

In 1989, a small band of history buffs re-invent-ed the magazine that had been known as AerospaceHistorian, re-labeled it Air Power History, and begana new era — something we all need to do from timeto time.

The inventors included publisher Ramsay D.Potts, editor in chief F. Clifton Berry, Jr., managingeditor Stephen P. Aubin, advertising manager TheaA. Kreis, circulation manager Sarah A. Smith —and me. The “History Mystery” contest made itsdebut in the second issue of APH, the Summer 1989edition. The contest brought many postcards fromreaders identifying the mystery plane, long beforemost of us had heard of e-mail.

In those days, APH was briefly being consid-ered as a viable commercial magazine and had anoffice in downtown Washington. To pick our first“History Mystery” winner, Clif and I threw all thecorrect entries on the floor, blindfolded Sarah, andhad her cheerfully select a winner by touch.

Yes. Times have changed.Many who read APH are also readers of enthu-

siast magazines such as Aviation History and

Flight Journal. Many of us devoured these maga-zines as teen-agers. In their present-day form, theyrun advertisements targeted at citizens onMedicare.

Times have changed a lot. I’ll soon celebratesixty years of writing books, articles and newspapercolumns about Air Force aircraft, history and oper-ations. I started before I was in the Air Force, notafter. My fondest hope is that no one today owns acopy of the November 1955 issue of Air Force mag-azine so that the long-ago launch of my literaryluminescence can be forever forgotten.

Times have changed and this magazine, thisFoundation, and this author are looking at afuture that can be bright with hope and opti-mism. I’m taking off my hat as technical editor ofAir Power History, putting a wrap on the name-the-plane-contest, and hoping that friends willcontinue to keep in touch at (703) 264-8950 [email protected].

This time around, everybody wins the HistoryMystery. It has been a great run. Whatever followsin future issues of this great magazine — whichowes so much, today, to the ministrations of editorJack Neufeld — there is no direction to go but up.

Robert F. Dorr, Oakton, Virginia

Thanksfor theMystery

History Mysteryby Robert F. Dorr

Air Force Historical FoundationP.O. Box 790 Clinton, MD 20735-0790

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WINTER 2014 - Volume 61, Number 4 … · The Air Force Historical Foundation Founded on May 27,...

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