Flying the Hump

   The Hump was a stretch of territory between India and China across the Himalayan Mountains. At a meeting of all flying personnel we were told we would not be flying any combat missions. Instead we would be flying gasoline and other supplies across the Hump into China, a distance of about 10 hours from Dacca to Kunming, China. Sounds easy think again. Our planes were converted to tankers, loaded with gasoline. The Japs were making a push in northern China and our planes were forced to stay on the ground due to the lack of fuel. It was at this point that our crews were split up as we would fly with only two gunners, an engineer, a radio man, a navigator, and two pilots. Your crew would be made up in operations the day before a trip.

   It was often said, “a bombing mission was a piece of cake compared to flying the Hump." What made it so dangerous? First of all, from the time you took off until you landed in Kunming, you were flying completely blind. You depended strictly on instruments. Any error and you hit the side of a mountain or crash in the jungle. It was imperative you fly no lower than 14000 ft. and no higher than 17000 ft. Any higher than 17000 ft. your wings would ice up and down you went. Any lower than 14000 and the mountains would get you. Now couple this with severe up- and down- drafts, which sometimes would cause you to drop 2000 ft. or shoot straight up 2000 ft. and that was the problem. Many times I would be sitting in the turret and the plane would literally drop out from under us, other times go straight up so fast your guts would feel like they were coming out. Another risk was the landing in Kunming. The field was located in a valley completely surrounded by high mountains. Once you committed yourself to a landing there was no second chance. With a full load of gas a B-24 could not pull up fast enough to clear the mountains. We lost many crews due to flying conditions. Occasionally, at briefing, we would be told the weather would be clear over Burma and to be on the alert for Jap Zeros patrolling the area. It was on one of these trips that we ran into real problems.

   About half way across, the #4 engine began to lose power and had to feathered (shut off). The pilot alerted us to start pumping gas over board, as he would turn around and head back. He called the base and was told if we could not make it to head for small fighter field near Myitkyina, north of Mandalay. About this time the second engine lost some power, but was kept running. By now we knew there was no hope of getting back to base. We dumped as much gasoline as possible and threw out everything else not needed, to lighten the plane. We were then told the small field, we were to land on, was being fought over by the Japs at the north end and Merrill's Marauders at the other. We had two choices, land over the Jap lines on the field, or bail out and hope to be picked up by friendly troops. The pilot chose the latter. He warned us to be prepared as we no doubt would pick up a lot of small arms fire as we came in. He was right, we did. He and the co-pilot did an excellent job of landing with two and half engines. We got out of the plane and took cover with the Marauders as quick as possible. We no more than got into some "fox holes" with the Marauders, when the Japs laid down a barrage of mortar fire.

   For two days we ate and slept in mud filled fox holes and worked on the engines as much as possible. On the third day Gen. Stilwell came in and proceeded to raise some hell. His words were, "Get that damn big lumbering ass bird out of here, or we will have the whole damn Japanese Air Force down our throat." If ever I wanted to shoot a damn General, it was then. I often wondered if he thought we sat that "big ass bird" down on purpose. Luckily the next day we were able to get the engines repaired and running good. We wasted no time in preparing for takeoff. During a lull in the fire we taxied to the end of the run way, said ever prayer we knew, and with full power began to roll. The end of the runway was coming up fast. Normally a B-24 becomes airborne at about 110 MPH. The pilot couldn't wait; he pulled back on the stick at about a 100 MPH. She slowly began to respond and we were airborne. As we gathered air speed we began to climb to 14000 ft. and headed home. Damn it felt good!!

   In case you never heard of Merrill's Marauders, they were a group of volunteers who left India, crossed over the mountains with the purpose of cutting off the Jap supply lines. They were tops at hand-to-hand combat. Thank God they were on our side.

   While we were there one of them kept asking if I would sell him my 45 pistol. They were watching over us like a mother hen protecting her chicks. The last day we were there I took out my 45, handed it to him, along with a clip of ammo, and wished him good luck. That night he said, "Tonight I'm going out on patrol and I'll try to get you something." Just about sunrise he came back in and handed me a Jap flag, still bloody. It seems every Jap soldier carries a flag in his helmet. He had killed one, shot him through the head, and gave it to me. This is 50 years later and I still have the flag. We landed back at the base and were met by the CO and all his staff. We were given a royal welcome as they had given us up as goners. To my knowledge this was the first large 4-engine bomber to have ever landed and returned from Burma. We made several more trips over the Hump, all without incident.

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Men of the 7th Bomb Group