Chapter 4

David looked into the camera and said, “Good day. I’m David Fletcher, bringing you this episode of ‘World War 2 Planes and Their Pilots.’ I’m honored to be here with World War 2 veteran Navy pilot, Lieutenant Commander Edward Martin, who flew the Corsair airplane you see parked behind us. Thank you for joining us, Commander Martin,” he said, offering his hand.

“My pleasure, David,” Edward smiled, shaking his hand.

Brent panned the camera from David to Edward, then the Corsair.

“Sir, we’d like you to tell us a little about yourself and the experiences you faced during the war.”

“I’d say that I got my love of flying from my dad. He served with the Air Service, United States Army during World War 1 and saw plenty of combat action. He survived being shot down twice and lost several fingers on his right hand in the second crash landing.”

“On my tenth birthday, my parents asked me what I wanted most, expecting it to be a new bicycle. All I wanted was a trip on an airplane. I still remember us flying from Tampa to Jacksonville and back. Growing up, I ate, slept, and dreamt about planes and flying.”

“I was undergoing the Operational Training Phase of my pilot training at Naval Air Station Jacksonville, Florida, and carrier qualification when Pearl Harbor was attacked. I had spent close to a year learning to fly.”

“I graduated from flying school, received my ‘Wings’ in April of ‘42, and at the age of twenty, was assigned to my first aircraft carrier, CV-2, the USS Lexington. My parents were so proud of me. I belonged to VF 3, ‘Felix the Cat,’ under the command of Lieutenant Commander John ‘Jimmy’ Thach. Did he ever teach me a thing or two about combat aviation!”

“I marvelled from dockside at the gigantic size of Lady Lex, as the Lexington was called, and wondered how a ship so large could possibly float. It was a virtual floating city with close to a 3,000-man crew. The size of the lower hanger decks was so huge, except for ceiling height, that you could easily play football inside them. The carrier also kept spare fuselages suspended from the ceiling in case a plane had to be replaced.”

“I didn’t know what I was in for. My first plane was a Wildcat, and I smiled proudly while posing beside her for several pictures. It felt like I was flying a brick, but could it ever perform. I was one of about a dozen new pilots assigned to the Lex, and we spent time learning more about formation flying and the dos and don’ts of combat flying compared to what we learned at the Academy.”

“We did a lot of gunnery practise mostly shooting at water targets, pretending they were enemy planes or ships, and engaging in mock dog fights. I was eager to learn and become a better pilot, and I listened intently to the teachings of Lieutenant Commander Thach and Ensign Butch O’Hare.”

“Lieutenant Commander Thach made it known to us new pilots the heroics performed by Butch to down five Japanese Betty bombers by himself in one day, making him the first US ace in the Navy for the war. He’d later be awarded the Medal of Honor for his actions against the enemy.”

“Apart from plane to plane combat and the risk of being shot down, what I feared was losing my engine on takeoff with a full load of fuel and ammo, having to ditch in the ocean, and my canopy was jammed shut; or running low on fuel and too far away from my carrier to land and would have to ditch in the ocean; or a mid-air collision with one of our own planes or the enemy.”

“I loved and still do love flying. Sometimes the weather was so damn hot that I’d fly with my canopy open, enjoying the cooler air from several thousand feet up. At times I found it like a toss of the coin whether a pilot was able to land safely on his carrier. I must have had a knack for hitting my landing marks and never had to abort a landing or ditch in the ocean.”

“During my years in the war, I witnessed and heard of God-awful plane crashes on carriers. Most pilots seemed to overshoot their landing on the carrier, with the tail hook not catching the wire or the safety netting in place, tipping the plane on its nose. Some planes were damaged on return from their mission and had to land with no wheels or only one, and they’d skid to a stop, breaking or bending the prop blades.”

“The odd time a plane came in too low and the poor guy flew right into the stern of the carrier and was killed, or they’d skid off the side of the deck and crash into the water and drown.”

“I’d say that the flight deck was just as dangerous to the ground crew as the enemy was to us in the air. With wings unfolded and propellers turning, there was no margin for error; take the wrong step, or you were accidentally killed or seriously injured.”

“Sometimes the pilots of the Dauntless dive bombers, Devastator torpedo bombers, and our Wildcats would already be in the cockpit when the planes were raised from the lower decks to the main deck. Other times the planes were loaded with ammo and bombs on the deck. The crews scurried around like busy bees, preparing the planes for battle. The flight deck seemed like organized confusion, with as many as forty-five planes loaded with fuel and bombs, engines running, waiting to take off.”