Chapter 17

After another break, Edward continued.

“We departed Ulithi on the 10th of February of ‘45, our destination being Iwo Jima and Tokyo. Air Group 4 was issued cold-weather gear for the time of year in that part of the world. We received lectures on targets in the Tokyo area to be hit. Strafing runs were practised on the beaches of Tinian and Saipan in preparation for the invasion of Iwo Jima. Most days we stood at GQ, General Quarters, for possible enemy attacks.”

“On the 16th, the 124th and 213th were the first fighters to strike at airfields near Tokyo. In the afternoon, the Avengers had their turn bombing the airfields. Meanwhile, the Navy was pounding Imo Jima in preparation for the ground Marines.”

“The 17th was a big day for us. Over 170 planes from the Essex, Enterprise, and Bunker Hill attacked targets over Tokyo. We provided air cover for the bombers taking on the Zekes and Oscars, a plane similar to the Zero.

“One memory that sticks with me is the cockpit view on the 19th of hundreds and hundreds of Marine landing craft heading for the beaches of Iwo Jima. We launched all available planes from the Essex, each carrying their rockets and one napalm bomb. At 0900, we dropped our napalm bombs at the foot and on the slope of Mt. Suribachi, where a strong concentration of enemy fire was overlooking the landing beach. The black puffs of anti-aircraft fire were heavy in the air. We also made three strafing runs on this point and three strafing runs on the beach while the Marine boats were approaching their landing zones.”

“The next day we did more sweeps against Iwo Jima. The weather played havoc with our flying missions over a number of days. Some afternoon flights were cancelled due to low visibility or days of no flying at all. One plus about the poor weather was that the Japs couldn’t fly either. Time was spent on more lectures about targets over Tokyo.”

David suggested they take another break. Helen comforted Edward, hearing many of his wartime exploits for the first time. He seldom talked about the war except with his dad. She gave him an appreciative hug and kiss.

It felt awkward to recall those dark days, but it was also helping him understand the small part he played in the war.

“Edward, I’d like to interject for a moment and ask if you could tell us about this still photograph taken from a gun camera that took place on the 17th. It was a truly remarkable flying manoeuvre,” David asked, showing the photo to the camera.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen. Theoretically, it couldn’t be done, but we tried it with limited success. It probably lasted maybe thirty to forty-five seconds on several appempts.”

“The last of our Corsairs had bombed and strafed our targets over Tokyo, experiencing heavy flak. 1st Lt. John Spencer was a member of my flight and took a hit to his plane in the main fuel tank. Luckily, it didn’t explode. We hadn’t fitted our planes with external fuel tanks for this run, which is about 175 miles southeast of Tokyo.”

“‘I’m hit and leaking fuel badly!’” He radioed.”

“We had used the fuel in the outer wings first because those tanks weren’t self-sealing. I thought those tanks were supposed to seal themselves!” I replied.”

“‘Maybe the hole is too big! Jesus, Skipper, I’m not going to make it back to the Essex! I’m losing too much fuel!’”

“I’ll radio for you to be picked up when you splash down.”

“‘Look at those white caps! Those seas are too rough to be rescued! I’ll never make it long enough! Tell my wife I love her, and damn it, I never even got to see my baby boy!’”

“Don’t say that! Damn It I’m tired of men dying when they don’t have to!”

“John, can you see where the fuel tank was hit?”

“‘Not very well, the gas keeps spraying over my windshield.’”

“I flew as close to John’s Corsair as I could without hitting it, taking quick glances as to where the fuel might be leaking from.”

“I think it’s leaking from the lower part of the tank at about your seven o’clock. John, turn and fly so your port wing is pointing up. The fuel level may be below what is the eleven point and may save you enough to get back to the Essex.”

“‘Good idea!’” Bob Kersey agreed.”

“‘How far do you think the Essex is from us?’” John wondered.”

“Maybe twenty, twenty-five miles.”

“‘I’ll try to climb to 20,000; that way, if the engine cuts out, I’ll try to glide in. I used to fly gliders as an Air Cadet, and I can try and glide in for a landing. As long as I have generator power, I’ll still have some hydraulics. I pray to God. I’m right in guessing I have a glide ratio of about twenty to one. I can glide one mile for every 1,000 feet I lose in altitude.’”