Deport to Brownwood to Paradise
The people of Deport did everything in their power to make sure every GI and his family was accepted into the community. Ruby and I had the good fortune to be living with one of the officers of the local bank. They told us to consider their home as our home. They knew firsts hand the problems someone in service experienced living as we did. They had a son that was on his way home from England. He had just completed twenty-five missions flying a B-17 over Germany.
Ruby and I had became close friends with another L pilot and his wife that lived in Deport. They were an older couple. They were in their thirties. Since Ruby and I were adjusting to married life while living in Deport Oscar and Bea Hope took upon themselves to make sure we did not have any problems. Their home was Shreveport, Louisiana. They knew I had relatives in Shreveport and on two occasions invited Ruby and I to make the trip to Shreveport with them. Out of curiosity I asked Oscar how he could get enough gasoline to make it to Shreveport and back. He said he would get the local filling station owner to fill his tank which would be enough to get to Shreveport and then rely on his friends at the post office, where he worked before the war, to see that he had enough gas to get back to Deport.
In the Army if you are enjoying the people you are around and where you are living, something will happen to turn everything upside down. We received notice one Monday morning the Paris army air force base was too close and all of the L-Pilots were to be moved to Brownwood army air force base near Brownwood, Texas. Our reporting day was the following Monday. Brownwood was to be a pool of L Pilots and the rumor was a new Liaison Squadron would be formed out of this group.
The local druggist was the ticket agent for the bus line that ran through Deport. I was making arrangement for Ruby and I to get to Brownwood when Oscar walked in. Being the friend he was he wanted to help us. He said it would be a tight fit with our luggage and 4 four in his coupe, but we had made trips together before and he invited Ruby and I to travel with them. I accepted and he accepted my offer to pay for the gasoline. This solved a big problem for us. Now we only had to find a place to live after we arrived in Brownwood.
The base was deserted by mid week. Some had already left for Brownwood and others had taken the opportunity to make a trip home and be in Brownwood Monday. The Griffins, the couple we rented a bed room with kitchen privileges for thirty dollars a month said they were sorry to see us leave. They said they had enjoyed having us live with them. We had lived with them three months. As we were getting in the car to leave Mr. Griffin said he was returning half of our rent as we had lived there only fifteen days of September. This was more than enough to pay all of our expenses to Brownwood.
With the trunk full, a suitcase tied on stop of the trunk and a duffle bag tied on each fender we looked like four okies leaving the dust bowl for California. We headed for Paris about fifteen miles away. Then to Dallas and Fort Worth. Brownwood was about one hundred miles southwest of Fort Worth. If we did not have any car problems we would be in Brownwood before dark. Brownwood was town of about ten thousand.
As we drove into Brownwood it was too late to start looking for a place to live. So we decided to stop at the first tourist court we passed and see if they had a vacancy. It was an accepted rule if a light was on in the office they had a vacancy if it was dark there was no vacancy.
We passed a tourist court and the office light was on. We stopped and asked about a cabin. He said he had two cabins available and if we wanted them it would be three dollars in advance. We did not expect much and we got what we expected. The cabin had a bed one table and one chair with a wash basin that had only cold running water. The shower and restroom facilities were in a room next to the office. Everyone used the same facilities.
The next morning we started driving down the residential streets looking for signs in any front yard that advertised a room for sent. We had toured nearly every residential area before we found a home with a room for rent sign in the front yard.
Anyone that had accommodations that could be rented did so to make a few extra dollars. With the air base and Camp Maxey near there was a shortage of rooms for personnel living off the base. We accepted the offer without looking at the rooms they were renting. When we did look at the rooms we realized they were far from a bargain. Compared to the living arrangement we had in Deport this was a dump. The one room apartment had been a garage with what I am sure was a chicken house attached. The furniture was barely adequate. The rent was the same as in Deport. One dollar a day paid 30 days in advance. Ruby wonder out loud what a mess and what have we got ourselves into. Staying in or around this place all day would be a nightmare.
The Hopes were more fortunate than we were. They managed to find a place that was acceptable. Compared to what we had it was a palace.
At roll call on Monday the CO outlined what was ahead for the next couple of months. A
squadron was to be formed and the pilots assigned to the squadron would probably leave for overseas duty. An evaluation process of testing everyone’s flying skills would start immediately and finish in a couple of months. The evaluations would start on Tuesday. To my surprise there was some talk of pilots intentionally failing their check flight. They were happy right here in Brownwood and would be satisfied to spend the rest of the war here.
The outline of what was expected indicated it would be difficult to pass everything on the first check flight. If you failed the first check flight you were given a second flight and if you failed it you would not be selected for the squadron. The outline included checks on night landings, night navigation, spot landings, barrier landings, dead stick landings and basic flying skills.
When I got home that evening I could see that Ruby was upset with where we were living. The curtains did not close completely, the stove and heater were impossible to make work, bugs were everywhere, the whole situation was a disaster and on top of that she is sure she heard someone outside our window trying to see in. She didn’t say she was ready to go back to Oklahoma City but I thought she was close to saying it. As we discussed the predicament she said tomorrow she was going to walk to town and see if she could get some leads on a better place to live. We had arrived in Brownwood with about one hundred thirty dollars in our pocket. Thirty of this was already gone paying for the dump we were living in. I was sure if we left this place these people would not return any of our money as the Griffins had done in Deport. We agreed Ruby would start looking for a better place to live the next day.
When I came in from the base Wednesday it was obvious we were moving. Our bags were packed and Ruby was ready to move out. She said she had found a place as nice as the one we had in Deport. We told the owner we were leaving and asked for a refund. But it was no surprise when he said no. We were only moving three blocks, but it was a world of difference in accommodations. We were down to about seventy dollars, but it never occurred to us we could not make it to the next pay day.
Our new home was old, but was an immaculately kept house and yard. The owners had two bedrooms upstairs which they rented to GI’s. They had remodeled a third bedroom into a kitchen with all new appliances. The couple renting the other bed room was John and Nancy Ratliff. He was a buck sergeant in the thirteenth armored Division stationed at Camp Maxey. Their home was Lexington, Kentucky. John and Nancy turned into great friends. John was a little on the extrovert side and Nancy a little shy. But, one thing she wasn’t shy about was having a cigar rolled from Kentucky tobacco after the evening meal and a shot of Kentucky bourbon. She was exceedingly proud of her Kentucky heritage.
The designated new squadron was to be the 163rd. The evaluations had been completed and I was one of the pilots selected. The table of organization called for all pilots to have at least the rank of Staff Sergeant. In my case I was promoted to Staff which meant a raise from a base pay of seventy eight dollars to ninety six dollars per month.
In early November we received a pleasant surprise. Ruby’s sister and her husband were visiting her parents in Fredrick, Okla. Which was less than a day’s ride by bus to Brownwood? We got in touch and invited them to come to see us. Even though we had only one room we could manage for four days. The room was furnished with a bed two chairs and a night stand. This was an oppurnity to meet Chet who was in the service in the combat engineers. Also to get reacquainted with Lucille as I had not seen her for several years.
When they arrived in Brownwood we met the bus and since it was only six blocks to where we lived we took off walking. John and Nancy fit right in. They had prepared supper and rounded up some bedding as Chet and I planned to sleep on the floor and Ruby and Lucille would sleep in the bed. Chet mentioned he had never flown in an airplane. I, said to him, after roll call at the base tomorrow we would check out a couple of parachutes and a plane and fly for a couple of hours. He mentioned later when I used the word parachute if he could have found a good reason he would have backed out.
The next morning after roll call we walked down to the flight line and checked out a couple of parachutes. Chet wanted to know if I had every used one. I said no and would only consider using it if a wing fell off. Other wise if the engine quit I would rather trust my ability to land the plane than trust my luck that the parachute rigger did his job right when he packed the chute. As far as I was concerned the chute was a cushion to sit on and not a very good one either. After a couple of hours flying they felt like they had rocks in them. I never rode with an instructor or check pilot that at some point in the flight he wouldn’t pull the throttle back and ask where you are going to put it. If you started looking for a place to land a check pilot would say take me home which meant you flunked the ride. If you were with an instructor he would not have any kind words for you after you landed. You always had to have a placed picked out to land the plane, no excuse was acceptable.
After a couple hours of flying, looking at various areas, doing the limited aerobatics the L-5 would do I told Chet to put his feet on the rudders and take hold of the stick and fly the plane. He was amazed at how simple and easy it was to maneuver the plane. He said later trying to fly the plane was the best part of the ride.
As 1944 moved to a close all members of the 163rd were given a ten day furlough which would carry over to January second. We were told to be prepared to board a troop train and leave for the west coast as soon as we returned.
Ruby and I caught the bus to Oklahoma City and spent a few days with my parents then took the bus to Fredrick and spent a few days with her parents. While visiting with my parents my dad asked her to stay with them while I was overseas. She accepted the offer and decided to apply for a job at Douglas Aircraft when she returned to Oklahoma City.
We were not told where our final destination would be. I would not have known where it was if they had told me. Three days on the train was easy living. Good food, sleeping in the Pullman car and for someone that had never traveled by train before and seeing country that I had never seen before I was enjoying the trip, all courtesy of the US army.
We had a stop over of four
days at Hamilton Field near San Francisco. We were given any shots that we had not taken, a physical and any equipment that needed to be replaced. Whatever you wanted all you had to do was turn in the old equipment and new equipment would be issued. No questions asked. All members of the Squadron were issued carbine rifles except the pilots and they we were issued forty five pistols but no ammunition. The fourth day was spent riding cable cars and seeing the sights of San Francisco.
We spent the fifth day boarding another troop train and headed for Seattle, our port of embarkation. Along the way someone had the idea of standing on the platform of the last car as it went through one of the many tunnels in Oregon and Washington. What they did not think of was how much coal dust and soot that would be left in the tunnel as the coal fired engine passed through. Needless to say, when they came in they needed a change of clothes and a bath. They had the change of clothes but no bath.
We still did not know where we were going. We ruled out Alaska since we were not issued cold climate clothes. So, it must be someplace in the South Pacific. We spent one night at Fort Lewis and boarded the troop ship the next day. Your space allotment was two by two by eight. Whatever you were carrying and you had to fit in that space. With hammocks hung five high it was crowded. The best advice for everyone was don’t get in yours hammock if a person above you is sea sick. The only time fresh waster was available for showers was two times a week for two hours and the rest of the time it was sea water. I learned the hard way if you take a shower in sea water don’t wash your head. The seventh day out someone spotted what they said was Diamond Head. Which I was told was a prominent land mark for Hawaii.
It was a pleasure to be off of that boat. The cramped quarters and the smell were overpowering. We loaded our duffle bags on an army trucks and an army bus took us to our quarters. They were quonset huts, which is nothing but a steel tube cut in half. There were sixteen cots in each hut and no flooring. When it rained water would run through the hut and it rained nearly every day. On the back door of each hut was a large sign. It is against the law to pick the pineapples.
Two L-5 crates were delivered to a baseball field near our quarters. The ball field was to be our base of operation. All the pilots pitched in to help the mechanics assemble the planes. We worked through the night with the help of three jeeps with their lights turned on. It was past mid January and not much time left in January for each pilot to get four hours of flying time in to draw flying pay for the month. By daylight the planes were assembled and ready to fly.
Flying over the island of Oahu and Pearl Harbor was an inspiring event. Flying over Pearl Harbor you could see the outline of the Battle Ship Arizona setting on the bottom of Pearl Harbor. It was disturbing to think a high school acquaintance was interned in the Arizona along with over 1100 other sailors. I remember exactly where I was when I heard about the attack on Pearl Harbor. I had just finished caddying 18 holes at Twin Hills Golf and Country Club. Never dreaming I would be flying an airplane over Pearl Harbor in the not to distance future.
I was extremely disappointed in the city of Honolulu. It reminded me of Reno Street in Oklahoma City. Whatever you wanted in Oklahoma City could be bought on Reno Street. Waikiki beach was also a disappointment. The water was clear and warm but you could not walk very far without stepping on sharp coral rocks.
In late January Tom Barwick and I were assigned one of the planes to check out each others flying skills. We loaded a fire extinguisher in the back and I got into the front seat and Tom got in the back seat. I took all the room I could as there were some high trees that we had to clear. I pushed the throttle wide open and started my stake off. It took me a few seconds to realize we had a problem. It was taking more force to raise the tail than it should. We were half way across the ball field before the plane lifted off the ground. Then I realized getting over the trees was going to be close. I let the plane gain speed after it lifted off and I started to pull back on the stick very gently. I had started my take off with fifteen degree flaps and as we were approaching the trees I pulled on thirty degree flaps and could feel the plane gain altitude. As we cleared the trees I could actually hear Tom heave a sigh of relief. Hey, he said, I thought our wheels were going to drag in those trees. I flew to an abandoned fighter strip and landed. By then I knew what our problem was. The fire extinguisher had slid all the way to the back and was resting over the rear tail gear.
We had flown about two hours and decided it was time to go back to the ball field. “You flew over, I get to fly back” Tom said. He climbed in the front seat and I got in the rear seat. We buckled our seat belts and shoulder harnesses and took off. This time the fire extinguisher was tied to the back seat so it could not move. The plane was about two hundred feet in the air and over the end of the runway when the engine quit. I screamed at him to land in the sugar cane field straight ahead. He said I can make a 180 and land on the runway. You are to low to make a 180 I said. It was too late for this comment as he was already into the turn. He pulled on forty five degree flaps but this did not give enough lift to the plane to complete his 180. We were about twenty feet off the ground when the plane completely stalled out. The plane was so low by then, it did not have enough altitude for the engine to pull the plane straight down and have the engine in Tom’ lap. When we did hit the ground we landed in the biggest sand pile in Hawaii. The wheels dug into the sand at least a foot deep and folded up under the plane and the wings buckled a little. Tom had a small cut on his forehead and I was not injured at all.
As we crawled out of the plane an army ambulance pulled up. They were at an aid station near the runway when they heard the engine quit. Even though we were not hurt they insisted a doctor should look us over. After the exam and while headed back to the plane we decided it was carburetor icing. Even though it was talked about I never new of a plane going down because the carburetor iced up.
To our surprise the CO had already heard about the crash and was waiting for us when we arrived back at the plane. Who was the pilot he asked? Tom answered the question, he was. Do you know what happened? Yes Sir, the carburetor iced up Tom replied. We walked over to the plane and the CO removed the cap from the gas tank and told Tom to tell him what he saw. Nothing Tom replied. That’s right nothing the CO fired back. The tank is empty. Carburetor icing my ass, you ran out of gas. The other tank is full. You never switched tanks. That brought the accident down to one thing, pilo
t error. The CO told him he was grounded till further notice. As the CO left Tom had one thing on his mind. A Court Marshall would be held in the next couple of days and he was positive he would be reduced in rank to private and grounded for ever.
The next morning Tom was resigned to his fate. The way he pictured it, it was all bad. He was told the CO, Major Bonner, the Operations Officer, Capt. Brinker, were to meet with Flight Officer, Lt. Berglin, and Flight Leader, M/Sgt. Darman, to discuss Tom’s status. At the meeting Sgt. Darman said he would comment on Tom’s flying skills, as he thought they were excellent and the squadron wasn’t in a position to sacrifice a good pilot because of one mistake.
The next morning Tom heard his fate. There would not be a Court Marshall or reduction in rank. Lieutenant Beerglin would put a letter in his file and give him a check ride to check out his flying skills. Afterwards he would be restored to full flying status. What we had been expecting materialized that morning. We were to be ready to board a troop ship the following Monday as we were leaving Hawaii.
