Doolittle

[SkyPup]

This is a really excellent firsthand account by the pilot of

aircraft #13 on the Doolittle Raid off the Hornet in 1942.

My name is Edgar McElroy. My friends call me "Mac". I was

born and raised in Ennis , Texas , the youngest of five children, son of

Harry and Jennie McElroy. Folks say that I was the quiet one. We lived at

609 North Dallas Street and attended the Presbyterian Church.

My dad had an auto mechanic's shop downtown close to the

main fire station. My family was a hard working bunch, and I was expected to

work at dad's garage after school and on Saturdays, so I grew up in an

atmosphere of machinery, oil and grease. Occasionally I would hear a lone

plane fly over, and would run out in the street and strain my eyes against

the sun to watch it. Someday, that would be me up there!

I really like cars, and I was always busy on some project,

and it wasn't long before I decided to build my very own Model-T out of

spare parts. I got an engine from over here, a frame from over there, and

wheels from someplace else, using only the good parts from old cars that

were otherwise shot. It wasn't very pretty, but it was all mine. I enjoyed

driving on the dirt roads around town and the feeling of freedom and speed.

That car of mine could really go fast, 40 miles per hour!

In high school I played football and tennis, and was good

enough at football to receive an athletic scholarship from Trinity

University in Waxahachie. I have to admit that sometimes I daydreamed in

class, and often times I thought about flying my very own airplane and being

up there in the clouds. That is when I even decided to take a correspondence

course in aircraft engines.

Whenever I got the chance, I would take my girl on a date

up to Love Field in Dallas . We would watch the airplanes and listen to

those mighty piston engines roar. I just loved it and if she didn't, well

that was just too bad.

After my schooling, I operated a filling station with my

brother, then drove a bus, and later had a job as a machinist in Longview ,

but I never lost my love of airplanes and my dream of flying. With what was

going on in Europe and in Asia , I figured that our country would be drawn

into war someday, so I decided to join the Army Air Corps in November of

1940. This way I could finally follow my dream.

I reported for primary training in California . The

training was rigorous and frustrating at times. We trained at airfields all

over California . It was tough going, and many of the guys washed out. When

I finally saw that I was going to make it, I wrote to my girl back in

Longview , Texas . Her name is Agnes Gill. I asked her to come out to

California for my graduation. and oh yeah, also to marry me.

I graduated on July 11, 1941. I was now a real,

honest-to-goodness Army Air Corps pilot. Two days later, I married "Aggie"

in Reno , Nevada . We were starting a new life together and were very happy.

I received my orders to report to Pendleton , Oregon and join the 17th Bomb

Group. Neither of us had traveled much before, and the drive north through

the Cascade Range of the Sierra Nevada 's was interesting and beautiful.

It was an exciting time for us. My unit was the first to

receive the new B-25 medium bomber. When I saw it for the first time I was

in awe. It looked so huge. It was so sleek and powerful. The guys started

calling it the "rocket plane", and I could hardly wait to get my hands on

it. I told Aggie that it was really something! Reminded me of a big old

scorpion, just ready to sting! Man, I could barely wait!

We were transferred to another airfield in Washington State

, where we spent a lot a time flying practice missions and attacking

imaginary targets. Then, there were other assignments in Mississippi and

Georgia , for more maneuvers and more practice.

We were on our way back to California on December 7th when

we got word of a Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor . We listened with mixed

emotions to the announcements on the radio, and the next day to the

declaration of war. What the President said, it just rang over and over in

my head, ".With confidence in our armed forces, with the un-bounding

determination of our people, we will gain the inevitable triumph. So help us

God." By gosh, I felt as though he was talking straight to me! I didn't know

what would happen to us, but we all knew that we would be going somewhere

now.

The first weeks of the war, we were back in Oregon flying

patrols at sea looking for possible Japanese submarines. We had to be up at

0330 hours to warm up the engines of our planes. There was 18 inches of snow

on the ground, and it was so cold that our engine oil congealed overnight.

We placed big tarps over the engines that reached down to the ground. Inside

this tent we used plumbers blow torches to thaw out the engines. I figured

that my dad would be proud of me, if he could see me inside this tent with

all this machinery, oil and grease. After about an hour of this, the

engines were warm enough to start.

We flew patrols over the coasts of Oregon and Washington

from dawn until dusk. Once I thought I spotted a sub, and started my bomb

run, even had my bomb doors open, but I pulled out of it when I realized

that it was just a big whale.

Lucky for me, I would have never heard the end of that!

Actually it was lucky for us that the Japanese didn't

attack the west coast, because we just didn't have a strong enough force to

beat them off. Our country was in a real fix now, and overall things looked

pretty bleak to most folks. In early February, we were ordered to report to

Columbus , South Carolina . Man, this Air Corps sure moves a fellow around a

lot! Little did I know what was coming next!

After we got settled in Columbus , my squadron commander

called us all together. He told us that an awfully hazardous mission was

being planned, and then he asked for volunteers. There were some of the guys

that did not step forward, but I was one of the ones that did. My co-pilot

was shocked. He said "You can't volunteer, Mac! You're married, and you and

Aggie are expecting a baby soon. Don't do it!" I told him that "I got into

the Air Force to do what I can, and Aggie understands how I feel. The war

won't be easy for any of us."

We that volunteered were transferred to Eglin Field near

Valparaiso , Florida in late February. When we all got together, there were

about 140 of us volunteers, and we were told that we were now part of the

"Special B-25 Project."

We set about our training, but none of us knew what it was

all about. We were ordered not to talk about it, not even to our wives.

In early March, we were all called in for a briefing, and

gathered together in a big building there on the base. Somebody said that

the fellow who head of this thing is coming to talk to us, and in walks

Lieutenant Colonel Jimmy Doolittle. He was already an aviation legend, and

there he stood right in front of us. I was truly amazed just to meet him.

Colonel Doolittle explained that this mission would be

extremely dangerous, and that only volunteers could take part. He said that

he could not tell us where we were going, but he could say that some of us

would not be coming back.

There was a silent pause; you could have heard a pin drop.

Then Doolittle said that anyone of us could withdraw now, and that no one

would criticize us for this decision. No one backed out! From the outset,

all volunteers worked from the early morning hours until well after sunset.

All excess weight was stripped from the planes and extra gas tanks were

added. The lower gun turret was removed, the heavy liaison radio was

removed, and then the tail guns were taken out and more gas tanks were put

aboard. We extended the range of that plane from 1000 miles out to 2500

miles.

Then I was assigned my crew. There was Richard Knobloch the

co-pilot, Clayton Campbell the navigator, Robert Bourgeous the bombardier,

Adam Williams the flight engineer and gunner, and me, Mac McElroy the pilot.

Over the coming days, I came to respect them a lot. They were a swell bunch

of guys, just regular All-American boys.

We got a few ideas from the training as to what type of

mission that we had signed on for. A Navy pilot had joined our group to

coach us at short takeoffs and also in shipboard etiquette. We began our

short takeoff practice. Taking off with first a light load, then a normal

load, and finally overloaded up to 31,000 lbs. The shortest possible

take-off was obtained with flaps full down, stabilizer set three-fourths,

tail heavy, full power against the brakes and releasing the brakes

simultaneously as the engine revved up to max power. We pulled back

gradually on the stick and the airplane left the ground with the tail skid

about one foot from the runway. It was a very unnatural and scary way to get

airborne! I could hardly believe it myself, the first time as I took off

with a full gas load and dummy bombs within just 700 feet of runway in a

near stall condition. We were, for all practical purposes, a slow flying

gasoline bomb!

In addition to take-off practice, we refined our skills in

day and night navigation, gunnery, bombing, and low level flying. We made

cross country flights at tree-top level, night flights and navigational

flights over the Gulf of Mexico without the use of a radio. After we started

that short-field takeoff routine, we had some pretty fancy competition

between the crews. I think that one crew got it down to about 300 feet on a

hot day. We were told that only the best crews would actually go on the

mission, and the rest would be held in reserve. One crew did stall on

takeoff, slipped back to the ground, busting up their landing gear. They

were eliminated from the mission. Doolittle emphasized again and again the

extreme danger of this operation, and made it clear that anyone of us who so

desired could drop out with no questions asked. No one did.

On one of our cross country flights, we landed at Barksdale

Field in Shreveport , and I was able to catch a bus over to Longview to see

Aggie. We had a few hours together, and then we had to say our goodbyes. I

told her I hoped to be back in time for the baby's birth, but I couldn't

tell her where I was going. As I walked away, I turned and walked backwards

for a ways, taking one last look at my beautiful pregnant Aggie.

Within a few days of returning to our base in Florida we

were abruptly told to pack our things. After just three weeks of practice,

we were on our way. This was it. It was time to go. It was the middle of

March 1942, and I was 30 years old. Our orders were to fly to McClelland Air

Base in Sacramento , California on our own, at the lowest possible level. So

here we went on our way west, scraping the tree tops at 160 miles per hour,

and skimming along just 50 feet above plowed fields. We crossed North Texas

and then the panhandle, scaring the dickens out of livestock, buzzing farm

houses and a many a barn along the way. Over the Rocky Mountains and across

the Mojave Desert dodging thunderstorms, we enjoyed the flight immensely and

although tempted, I didn't do too much dare-devil stuff. We didn't know it

at the time, but it was good practice for what lay ahead of us. It proved to

be our last fling. Once we arrived in Sacramento , the mechanics went over

our plane with a fine-toothed comb. Of the twenty-two planes that made it,

only those whose pilots reported no mechanical problems were allowed to go

on. The others were shunted aside.

After having our plane serviced, we flew on to Alameda

Naval Air Station in Oakland . As I came in for final approach, we saw it! I

excitedly called the rest of the crew to take a look. There below us was a

huge aircraft carrier. It was the USS Hornet, and it looked so gigantic!

Man, I had never even seen a carrier until this moment. There were already

two B-25s parked on the flight deck. Now we knew! My heart was racing, and I

thought about how puny my plane would look on board this mighty ship. As

soon as we landed and taxied off the runway, a jeep pulled in front of me

with a big "Follow Me" sign on the back. We followed it straight up to the

wharf, alongside the towering Hornet. All five of us were looking up and

just in awe, scarcely believing the size of this thing. As we left the

plane, there was already a Navy work crew swarming around attaching cables

to the lifting rings on top of the wings and the fuselage. As we walked

towards our quarters, I looked back and saw them lifting my plane up into

the air and swing it over the ship's deck. It looked so small and lonely.

Later that afternoon, all crews met with Colonel Doolittle

and he gave last minute assignments. He told me to go to the Presidio and

pick up two hundred extra "C" rations. I saluted, turned, and left, not

having any idea where the Presidio was, and not exactly sure what a "C"

ration was. I commandeered a Navy staff car and told the driver to take me

to the Presidio, and he did. On the way over, I realized that I had no

written signed orders and that this might get a little sticky. So in I

walked into the Army supply depot and made my request, trying to look poised

and confident. The supply officer asked "What is your authorization for this

request, sir?" I told him that I could not give him one. "And what is the

destination?" he asked. I answered, "The aircraft carrier, Hornet, docked at

Alameda ." He said, "Can you tell me who ordered the rations, sir?" And I

replied with a smile, "No, I cannot." The supply officers huddled together,

talking and glanced back over towards me. Then he walked back over and

assured me that the rations would be delivered that afternoon. Guess they

figured that something big was up. They were right. The next morning we all

boarded the ship.

Trying to remember my naval etiquette, I saluted the

Officer of the Deck and said "Lt. McElroy, requesting permission to come

aboard." The officer returned the salute and said "Permission granted." Then

I turned aft and saluted the flag. I made it, without messing up. It was

April 2, and in full sunlight, we left San Francisco Bay . The whole task

force of ships, two cruises, four destroyers, and a fleet oiler, moved

slowly with us under the Golden Gate Bridge . Thousands of people looked on.

Many stopped their cars on the bridge, and waved to us as we passed

underneath. I thought to myself, I hope there aren't any spies up there

waving.

Once at sea, Doolittle called us together. "Only a few of

you know our destination, and you others have guessed about various targets.

Gentlemen, your target is Japan !" A sudden cheer exploded among the men.

"Specifically, Yokohama , Tokyo , Nagoya , Kobe , Nagasaki and Osaka . The

Navy task force will get us as close as possible and we'll launch our

planes. We will hit our targets and proceed to airfields in China ." After

the cheering stopped, he asked again, if any of us desired to back out, no

questions asked. Not on did, not one. Then the ship's Captain then went over

the intercom to the whole ship's company. The loudspeaker blared, "The

destination is Tokyo !" A tremendous cheer broke out from everyone on board.

I could hear metal banging together and wild screams from down below decks.

It was quite a rush! I felt relieved actually. We finally knew where we were

going.

I set up quarters with two Navy pilots, putting my cot

between their two bunks. They couldn't get out of bed without stepping on

me. It was just fairly cozy in there, yes it was. Those guys were part of

the Torpedo Squadron Eight and were just swell fellows. The rest of the guys

bedded down in similar fashion to me, some had to sleep on bedrolls in the

Admiral's chartroom. As big as this ship was, there wasn't any extra room

anywhere. Every square foot had a purpose... A few days later we discovered

where they had an ice cream machine!

There were sixteen B-25s tied down on the flight deck, and

I was flying number 13. All the carrier's fighter planes were stored away

helplessly in the hangar deck. They couldn't move until we were gone. Our

Army mechanics were all on board, as well as our munitions loaders and

several back up crews, in case any of us got sick or backed out. We settled

into a daily routine of checking our planes. The aircraft were grouped so

closely together on deck that it wouldn't take much for them to get

damaged. Knowing that my life depended on this plane, I kept a close eye on

her.

Day after day, we met with the intelligence officer and

studied our mission plan. Our targets were assigned, and maps and objective

folders were furnished for study. We went over approach routes and our

escape route towards China . I never studied this hard back at Trinity.

Every day at dawn and at dusk the ship was called to general quarters and we

practiced finding the quickest way to our planes. If at any point along the

way, we were discovered by the enemy fleet, we were to launch our bombers

immediately so the Hornet could bring up its fighter planes. We would then

be on our own, and try to make it to the nearest land, either Hawaii or

Midway Island .

Dr. Thomas White , a volunteer member of plane number 15,

went over our medical records and gave us inoculations for a whole bunch of

diseases that hopefully I wouldn't catch. He gave us training sessions in

emergency first aid, and lectured us at length about water purification and

such. Tom, a medical doctor, had learned how to be a gunner just so he could

go on this mission. We put some new tail guns in place of the ones that had

been taken out to save weight. Not exactly functional, they were two broom

handles, painted black. The thinking was they might help scare any Jap

fighter planes. Maybe, maybe not.

On Sunday, April 14, we met up with Admiral Bull Halsey's

task force just out of Hawaii and joined into one big force. The carrier

Enterprise was now with us, another two heavy cruisers, four more destroyers

an another oiler. We were designated as Task Force 16. It was quite an

impressive sight to see, and represented the bulk of what was left of the

U.S. Navy after the devastation of Pearl Harbor .. There were over 10,000

Navy personnel sailing into harm's way, just to deliver us sixteen Army

planes to the Japs, orders of the President.

As we steamed further west, tension was rising as we drew

nearer and nearer to Japan . Someone thought of arming us with some old

...45 pistols that they had on board. I went through that box of 1911

pistols, they were in such bad condition that I took several of them apart,

using the good parts from several useless guns until I built a serviceable

weapon. Several of the other pilots did the same. Admiring my "new" pistol,

I held it up, and thought about my old Model-T.

Colonel Doolittle called us together on the flight deck. We

all gathered round, as well as many Navy personnel. He pulled out some

medals and told us how these friendship medals from the Japanese government

had been given to some of our Navy officers several years back. And now the

Secretary of the Navy had requested us to return them. Doolittle wired them

to a bomb while we all posed for pictures. Something to cheer up the folks

back home!

I began to pack my things for the flight, scheduled for the

19th. I packed some extra clothes and a little brown bag that Aggie had

given me, inside were some toilet items and a few candy bars. No letters or

identity cards were allowed, only our dog-tags. I went down to the wardroom

to have some ice cream and settle up my mess bill. It only amounted to $5 a

day and with my per diem of $6 per day, I came out a little ahead. By now,

my Navy pilot roommates were about ready to get rid of me, but I enjoyed my

time with them. They were alright. Later on, I learned that both of them

were killed at the Battle of Midway. They were good men. Yes, very good men.

Colonel Doolittle let each crew pick our own target. We

chose the Yokosuka Naval Base about twenty miles from Tokyo . We loaded 1450

rounds of ammo and four 500-pound bombs... A little payback, direct from

Ellis County , Texas ! We checked and re-checked our plane several times.

Everything was now ready. I felt relaxed, yet tensed up at the same time.

Day after tomorrow, we will launch when we are 400 miles out. I lay in my

cot that night, and rehearsed the mission over and over in my head. It was

hard to sleep as I listened to sounds of the ship.

Early the next morning, I was enjoying a leisurely

breakfast, expecting another full day on board, and I noticed that the ship

was pitching and rolling quite a bit this morning, more than normal. I was

reading through the April 18th day plan of the Hornet, and there was a

message in it which said, "From the Hornet to the Army - Good luck, good

hunting, and God bless you." I still had a large lump in my throat from

reading this, when all of a sudden, the intercom blared, "General Quarters,

General Quarters, All hands man your battle stations! Army pilots, man your

planes!!!" There was instant reaction from everyone in the room and food

trays went crashing to the floor. I ran down to my room jumping through the

hatches along the way, grabbed my bag, and ran as fast as I could go to the

flight deck. I met with my crew at the plane, my heart was pounding.

Someone said, "What's going on?" The word was that the Enterprise had

spotted an enemy trawler. It had been sunk, but it had transmitted radio

messages. We had been found out!

The weather was crummy, the seas were running heavy, and

the ship was pitching up and down like I had never seen before. Great waves

were crashing against the bow and washing over the front of the deck. This

wasn't going to be easy! Last minute instructions were given. We were

reminded to avoid non-military targets, especially the Emperor's Palace. Do

not fly to Russia , but fly as far west as possible, land on the water and

launch our rubber raft. This was going to be a one-way trip! We were still

much too far out and we all knew that our chances of making land were

somewhere between slim and none. Then at the last minute, each plane loaded

an extra ten 5-gallon gas cans to give us a fighting chance of reaching

China .

We all climbed aboard, started our engines and warmed them

up, just feet away from the plane in front of us and the plane behind us.

Knobby, Campbell , Bourgeois and me in the front, Williams, the gunner was

in the back, separated from us by a big rubber gas tank. I called back to

Williams on the intercom and told him to look sharp and don't take a nap! He

answered dryly, "Don't worry about me, Lieutenant. If they jump us, I'll

just use my little black broomsticks to keep the Japs off our tail."

The ship headed into the wind and picked up speed. There

was now a near gale force wind and water spray coming straight over the

deck. I looked down at my instruments as my engines revved up. My mind was

racing. I went over my mental checklist, and said a prayer? God please, help

us! Past the twelve planes in front of us, I strained to see the flight deck

officer as he leaned into the wind and signaled with his arms for Colonel

Doolittle to come to full power. I looked over at Knobby and we looked each

other in the eye. He just nodded to me and we both understood.

With the deck heaving up and down, the deck officer had to

time this just right. Then I saw him wave Doolittle to go, and we watched

breathlessly to see what happened. When his plane pulled up above the deck,

Knobby just let out with, "Yes! Yes!" The second plane, piloted by Lt.

Hoover, appeared to stall with its nose up and began falling toward the

waves. We groaned and called out, "Up! Up! Pull it up!" Finally, he pulled

out of it, staggering back up into the air, much to our relief! One by one,

the planes in front of us took off. The deck pitched wildly, 60 feet or

more, it looked like. One plane seemed to drop down into the drink and

disappeared for a moment, then pulled back up into sight. There was sense of

relief with each one that made it. We gunned our engines and started to roll

forward. Off to the right, I saw the men on deck cheering and waving their

covers! We continued inching forward, careful to keep my left main wheel and

my nose wheel on the white guidelines that had been painted on the deck for

us. Get off a little bit too far left and we go off the edge of the deck. A

little too far to the right and our wing-tip will smack the island of the

ship. With the best seat on the ship, we watched Lt. Bower take off in

plane number 12, and I taxied up to the starting line, put on my the brakes

and looked down to my left. My main wheel was right on the line. Applied

more power to the engines, and I turned my complete attention to the deck

officer on my left, who was circling his paddles. Now my adrenaline was

really pumping! We went to full power, and the noise and vibration inside

the plane went way up. He circled the paddles furiously while watching

forward for the pitch of the deck. Then he dropped them, and I said, "Here

We Go!" I released the brakes and we started rolling forward, and as I

looked down the flight-deck you could see straight down into the angry

churning water. As we slowly gained speed, the deck gradually began to pitch

back up. I pulled up and our plane slowly strained up and away from the

ship. There was a big cheer and whoops from the crew, but I just felt

relieved and muttered to myself, "Boy, that was short!"

We made a wide circle above our fleet to check our compass

headings and get our bearings. I looked down as we passed low over one of

our cruisers and could see the men on deck waving to us. I dropped down to

low level, so low we could see the whitecap waves breaking. It was just

after 0900, there were broken clouds at 5,000 feet and visibility of about

thirty miles due to haze or something. Up ahead and barely in sight, I could

see Captain Greening, our flight leader, and Bower on his right wing. Flying

at 170 mph, I was able to catch up to them in about 30 minutes. We were to

stay in this formation until reaching landfall, and then break on our

separate ways. Now we settled in for the five hour flight. Tokyo , here we

come!

Williams was in the back emptying the extra gas cans into

the gas tank as fast as we had burned off enough fuel. He then punched holes

in the tins and pushed then out the hatch against the wind. Some of the

fellows ate sandwiches and other goodies that the Navy had put aboard for

us... I wasn't hungry. I held onto the controls with a firm grip as we raced

along westward just fifty feet above the cold rolling ocean, as low as I

dared to fly. Being so close to the choppy waves gave you a true sense of

speed. Occasionally our windshield was even sprayed with a little saltwater.

It was an exhilarating feeling, and I felt as though the will and spirit of

our whole country was pushing us along. I didn't feel too scared, just

anxious. There was a lot riding on this thing, and on me.

As we began to near land, we saw an occasional ship here

and there. None of them close enough to be threatening, but just the same,

we were feeling more edgy. Then at 1330 we sighted land, the Eastern shore

of Honshu . With Williams now on his guns in the top turret and Campbell on

the nose gun, we came ashore still flying low as possible, and were

surprised to see people on the ground waving to us as we flew in over the

farmland. It was beautiful countryside.

Campbell, our navigator, said, "Mac, I think we're going to

be about sixty miles too far north. I'm not positive, but pretty sure." I

decided that he was absolutely right and turned left ninety degrees, went

back just offshore and followed the coast line south. When I thought we had

gone far enough, I climbed up to two thousand feet to find out where we

were. We started getting fire from anti-aircraft guns. Then we spotted Tokyo

Bay , turned west and put our nose down diving toward the water. Once over

the bay, I could see our target, Yokosuka Naval Base. Off to the right there

was already smoke visible over Tokyo . Coming in low over the water, I

increased speed to 200 mph and told everyone, "Get Ready!"

When we were close enough, I pulled up to 1300 feet and

opened the bomb doors. There were furious black bursts of anti-aircraft fire

all around us, but I flew straight on through them, spotting our target, the

torpedo works and the dry-docks. I saw a big ship in the dry-dock just as

we flew over it. Those flak bursts were really getting close and bouncing us

around, when I heard Bourgeois shouting, "Bombs Away!" I couldn't see it,

but Williams had a bird's eye view from the back and he shouted jubilantly,

"We got an aircraft carrier! The whole dock is burning!" I started turning

to the south and strained my neck to look back and at that moment saw a

large crane blow up and start falling over!... Take that! There was loud

yelling and clapping each other on the back. We were all just ecstatic, and

still alive! But there wasn't much time to celebrate. We had to get out of

here and fast! When we were some thirty miles out to sea, we took one last

look back at our target, and could still see huge billows of black smoke.

Up until now, we had been flying for Uncle Sam, but now we were flying for

ourselves.

We flew south over open ocean, parallel to the Japanese

coast all afternoon. We saw a large submarine apparently at rest, and then

in another fifteen miles, we spotted three large enemy cruisers headed for

Japan . There were no more bombs, so we just let them be and kept on going.

By late afternoon, Campbell calculated that it was time to turn and make for

China . Across the East China Sea , the weather out ahead of us looked bad

and overcast. Up until now we had not had time to think much about our

gasoline supply, but the math did not look good. We just didn't have enough

fuel to make it!

Each man took turns cranking the little hand radio to see

if we could pick up the promised radio beacon. There was no signal. This is

not good. The weather turned bad and it was getting dark, so we climbed up.

I was now flying on instruments, through a dark misty rain. Just when it

really looked hopeless of reaching land, we suddenly picked up a strong

tailwind. It was an answer to a prayer. Maybe just maybe, we can make it!

In total darkness at 2100 hours, we figured that we must be

crossing the coastline, so I began a slow, slow climb to be sure of not

hitting any high ground or anything. I conserved as much fuel as I could,

getting real low on gas now. The guys were still cranking on the radio, but

after five hours of hand cranking with aching hands and backs, there was

utter silence. No radio beacon! Then the red light started blinking,

indicating twenty minutes of fuel left. We started getting ready to bail

out. I turned the controls over to Knobby and crawled to the back of the

plane, past the now collapsed rubber gas tank. I dumped everything out of my

bag and repacked just what I really needed, my .45 pistol, ammunition,

flashlight, compass, medical kit, fishing tackle, chocolate bars, peanut

butter and crackers. I told Williams to come forward with me so we could all

be together for this. There was no other choice. I had to get us as far

west as possible, and then we had to jump.

At 2230 we were up to sixty-five hundred feet. We were over

land but still above the Japanese Army in China . We couldn't see the stars,

so Campbell couldn't get a good fix on our position. We were flying on fumes

now and I didn't want to run out of gas before we were ready to go. Each

man filled his canteen, put on his Mae West life jacket and parachute, and

filled his bag with rations, those "C" rations from the Presidio. I put her

on auto-pilot and we all gathered in the navigator's compartment around the

hatch in the floor. We checked each other's parachute harness. Everyone was

scared, without a doubt. None of us had ever done this before! I said,

"Williams first, Bourgeois second, Campbell third, Knobloch fourth, and I'll

follow you guys! Go fast, two seconds apart! Then count three seconds off

and pull your rip-cord!"

We kicked open the hatch and gathered around the hole

looking down into the blackness. It did not look very inviting! Then I

looked up at Williams and gave the order, "JUMP!!!" Within seconds they were

all gone. I turned and reached back for the auto-pilot, but could not reach

it, so I pulled the throttles back, then turned and jumped. Counting

quickly, thousand one, thousand two, thousand three, I pulled my rip-cord

and jerked back up with a terrific shock. At first I thought that I was hung

on the plane, but after a few agonizing seconds that seemed like hours,

realized that I was free and drifting down. Being in the total dark, I was

disoriented at first but figured my feet must be pointed toward the ground.

I looked down through the black mist to see what was coming up. I was in a

thick mist or fog, and the silence was so eerie after nearly thirteen hours

inside that noisy plane. I could only hear the whoosh, whoosh sound of the

wind blowing through my shroud lines, and then I heard a loud crash and

explosion. My plane!

Looking for my flashlight, I groped through my bag with my

right hand, finally pulled it out and shined it down toward the ground,

which I still could not see. Finally I picked up a glimmer of water and

thought I was landing in a lake. We're too far inland for this to be ocean.

I hope! I relaxed my legs a little, thinking I was about to splash into

water and would have to swim out, and then bang. I jolted suddenly and

crashed over onto my side. Lying there in just a few inches of water, I

raised my head and put my hands down into thick mud. It was rice paddy!

There was a burning pain, as if someone had stuck a knife in my stomach. I

must have torn a muscle or broke something.

I laid there dazed for a few minutes, and after a while

struggled up to my feet. I dug a hole and buried my parachute in the mud.

Then started trying to walk, holding my stomach, but every direction I moved

the water got deeper. Then, I saw some lights off in the distance. I fished

around for my flashlight and signaled one time. Sensing something wrong, I

got out my compass and to my horror saw that those lights were off to my

west. That must be a Jap patrol! How dumb could I be! Knobby had to be back

to my east, so I sat still and quiet and did not move.

It was a cold dark lonely night. At 0100 hours I saw a

single light off to the east. I flashed my light in that direction, one

time. It had to be Knobby! I waited a while, and then called out softly,

"Knobby?" And a voice replied "Mac, is that you?". Thank goodness, what a

relief! Separated by a wide stream, we sat on opposite banks of the water

communicating in low voices. After daybreak Knobby found a small rowboat and

came across to get me. We started walking east toward the rest of the crew

and away from that Japanese patrol. Knobby had cut his hip when he went

through the hatch, but it wasn't too awful bad.

We walked together toward a small village and several

Chinese came out to meet us, they seemed friendly enough. I said, "Luchu hoo

megwa fugi! Luchu hoo megwa fugi!" meaning, "I am an American! I am an

American!" Later that morning we found the others. Williams had wrenched his

knee when he landed in a tree, but he was limping along just fine. There

were hugs all around. I have never been so happy to see four guys in all my

life!

Well, the five of us eventually made it out of China with

the help of the local Chinese people and the Catholic missions along the

way. They were all very good to us, and later they were made to pay terribly

for it, so we found out afterwards. For a couple of weeks we traveled across

country. Strafed a couple of times by enemy planes, we kept on moving, by

foot, by pony, by car, by train, and by airplane. But we finally made it to

India .

I did not make it home for the baby's birth. I stayed on

flying a DC-3 "Gooney Bird" in the China-Burma-India Theatre for the next

several months. I flew supplies over the Himalaya Mountains, or as we

called it, over "The Hump" into China . When B-25s finally arrived in India

, I flew combat missions over Burma , and then later in the war, flew a B-29

out of the Marianna Islands to bomb Japan again and again.

After the war, I remained in the Air Force until 1962, when

I retired from the service as a Lt. Colonel, and then came back to Texas ,

my beautiful Texas . First moving to Abilene and then we settled in Lubbock

, where Aggie taught school at MacKenzie Junior High. I worked at the S & R

Auto Supply, once again in an atmosphere of machinery, oil and grease.

I lived a good life and raised two wonderful sons that I am

very proud of. I feel blessed in many ways. We have a great country, better

than most folks know. It is worth fighting for. Some people call me a hero,

but I have never thought of myself that way, no. But I did serve in the

company of heroes. What we did will never leave me. It will always be there

in my fondest memories. I will always think of the fine and brave men that I

was privileged to serve with. Remember us, for we were soldiers once and

young. With the loss of all aircraft, Doolittle believed that the raid had

been a failure, and that he would be court-martialed upon returning to the

states. Quite to the contrary, the raid proved to be a tremendous boost to

American morale, which had plunged following the Pearl Harbor attack. It

also caused serious doubts in the minds of Japanese war planners. They in

turn recalled many seasoned fighter plane units back to defend the home

islands, which resulted in Japan 's weakened air capabilities at the

upcoming Battle of Midway and other South Pacific campaigns.

Edgar "Mac" Mc Elroy, Lt. Col., U.S.A.F. (Ret.) passed away

at his residence in Lubbock, Texas, early on the morning of Friday, April 4,

2003.

[Blairgowrie]

Great read pup. I enjoyed it very much.

[rox]

Agreed, didn't plan to read all this now but it hooked me once I started...

[T_O_A_D]

Yep got this in my email account, with a few pictures aswell.