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Show Marine Fliers Triumph Over Perils of Air and Sea; Combat Correspondents Recount Tales of Heroism Gunner Attempts To Bring Home Crippled Bomber "Twelve fighter pilots of my squadron had been out on a routine escort mission. We were sent to escort a group of marine dive bombers on a foray against the Jap-held airfield at Munda and were returning to Henderson on Guadalcanal." Major R. L. Vroome, U. S. M. C, was telling a group of fighter pilots about Sgt. Gilbert Henze, an 18-year-old gunner from State Center, Iowa. "Somehow In the fracas I got separated sep-arated from my formation," went on the major. "As I headed homeward home-ward I received a radio warning that one of our dive bombers was in trouble. "I found It a good mile south of me at about 5,000 feet. The pilot hanging hang-ing half way out of the bomber's (Editor's note: The following two stories were written by Combat Correspondents Cor-respondents of the United Stales marine corps. Typical of the work of these fighting writers, the first was by Staff Sergeant William I. Coffeen Jr., as told to Staff Sergeant Harry Bolser. The second was written writ-ten by Sergeant Pen T. Johnson.) when night fell I still was several miles from it. But I had something to look forward to and I slept better bet-ter that night. "I reached the beach near the house at mid-afternoon of the next day. I hid my raft In the bush and approached the building, fearful fear-ful that it was occupied by Japs. I saw a sign that read 'Solomon Developing De-veloping Company, Sydney, Australia Austra-lia .. .' I soon learned that the building was part of an abandoned coconut plantation. "I stayed at the plantation house five days. On the sixth day I gathered gath-ered some limes and oranges and started traveling again. In the distance dis-tance I could see the tip of a large island, with the peak of a mountain moun-tain rising above the clouds. I decided de-cided to make this island my next objective. "When I landed I soon found that I had made another bad move. I found no life; only cliffs and mountains. moun-tains. However, there was plenty of fresh water my first in approximately approxi-mately 27 days. "I finally decided that I would retrace re-trace my steps and try to make it back to the first island on which I landed. I started out the next morning morn-ing and barely made it back to the plantation house. The infection in my hand had cleared, but my foot was swollen from infection. Prayed for Direction. "That night I planned what I decided de-cided would probably be my final attempt at-tempt to contact life. I prayed to God Almighty to send me in the right direction. Tomorrow, I decided de-cided I'll make for the other side of the big island. "Near dusk on the fourth day, as I had barely enough strength in my arms to paddle, a storm broke and gradually I was carried out to sea. The last I remember I started to scream, and then I passed out! "I was told later that a high wind blew me into shore. When I regained re-gained consciousness I was in the arms of a native. " 'You American or Jap?' the native na-tive inquired in his best pidgin English. Eng-lish. " 'I'm American,' I told him. " 'American, you good,' he replied. re-plied. "Those were the best words I believe be-lieve I have over heard in my life. I knew then that I had been rescued. "I couldn't walk. My rescuer carried car-ried me to his hut not far from the beach. I asked the date and he told me it was May 15. When I told him I had been lost since April 13 32 illllillilll " .--4f L ' t-tif Sergeant Survives After 32 Days on Barren Islands For 72 days he was "missing "miss-ing in action." His comrades in a marine corps flying unit in the Guadalcanal area had long given up hope of seeing him again. But Sergeant Bill Coffeen came back. Shaggy and lean, he stepped out of a navy rescue plane. He told of surviving storms, blistering sun and infection and living for 32 days on a coconut diet. The last 40 days he was missing, miss-ing, friendly natives cared for him. Today Staff Sergt. William I. Coffeen Cof-feen Jr., 23, whose parents live at d348 North Lotus street, Chicago, 111., Is at a naval base hospital being treated for malaria and malnutrition. malnutri-tion. "I got off on the wrong foot that morning of April 13 and ended up the same way," began Coffeen. "My plane barely missed the treetops as I took off from Henderson Field. A guide light at the end of the strip blinded me. We were to escort navy torpedo bombers on a mission. "Within sight of land between Ko-lombangara Ko-lombangara and Choiseul islands, I suddenly noticed my engine smoking. smok-ing. My oil line was leaking. "Losing altitude rapidly and fearing fear-ing the motor would explode, I decided de-cided to bale out. "It seemed that I hit the water Just a few seconds after my parachute para-chute opened. "I pulled the cord on my life jacket, jack-et, but it failed to inflate. It had been punctured. I pulled my rubber raft out and inflated it. The paddle was missing. "The water was calm, but 30 minutes min-utes later a storm hit. High waves tossed my small rubber raft about like a toothpick, and overturned it. Into the water went all of my medical medi-cal supplies and emergency rations. All I had left was the clothing I was wearing, and my hunting knife and pistol. "After I righted the raft I started paddling with my hands. I still was in sight of land. In mid-afternoon I heard the familiar drone of our fighter plane motors it was my flight returning from the strike on which I had set out that morning. "Several of the planes flew low and almost directly over me. I fired five shots from my pistol and waved the white raft sail, but they failed to see me. "I started paddling with my hands toward land. On the way, sharks swished by the raft. Reaches Small Island. "I slept in a sitting position that night. Long before daybreak I started again for land. The sea was calm. Near sundown the second sec-ond day out, I finally reached the shore of a small Island. I was exhausted, ex-hausted, hungry and thirsty. When I reached the beach of the coconut grove island I realized I made a grave mistake by tossing my shoes overboard after the storm. My socks were the only protection for my feet. "I gathered two coconuts, cut holes in them with my knife, drank the juice, then broke them open and ate the meat. It was the first liquid and food I had had in nearly 48 hours. "I stayed on this island three days. It was uninhabited and I knew I would die if I stayed there. "Far away I could see a larger Island and decided on the fifth day to strike out for it. I was growing weak from the coconut diet. "After hand-paddling along the coast all that day with a blazing sun baking me, I made the next island at dusk. It was studded with coco-out coco-out trees like the first island. "Next morning I decided to try for another island. It took ma all that day to reach it. It was the same ttory when I landed there no food, po fresh water, no life. Arm and Foot Infected. "My left arm was swollen to twice its normal size overnight. My right foot was also infected. I realized blood poison was developing, devel-oping, so I cut open the source of Infection with my knife, and bathed my arm in salt water for more than an hour. I was relieved somewhat and decided to move on. That morning morn-ing I tried to drink coconut juice, but I Just couldn't get It down. 1 "As I paddled along the shore I saw what appeared to be a red-roofed red-roofed house near the end of the island. "The house proved a greater distance dis-tance away than I had estimated; i i ' 1 f e " i - i :i MA I ' 1 1 '? -1 - " A r , A : Ln. , j Sergeant Gilbert Henze cockpit, his helmet gone, his clothes, ripped to shreds. "I asked by radio, is your pilot alive?" " 'I don't know sir!' he answered, 'we got hit by a burst of shrapnel about 20 minutes ago, and he has been that way ever since.' " 'Can you, or have you ever flown a plane!' " "No sir,' he answered. " 'Do you think that you can keep her level and follow my instructions?' instruc-tions?' " 'Yes sir, I sure can try.' " 'The first thing I want you to do then is to release that 1,000 pound1 bomb.' Can't Release Bomb. " 'I can't release it sir, it can only be done from the front cockpit.' "I peered anxiously ahead. Below Be-low and just visible lay the shoreline shore-line of Guadalcanal. If we could make it I could signal for a crash boat or any kind of a boat and then if I could get the kid to follow my instructions I would try to bring him in by water. Then I heard the kid shout over his radio, 'My engine just sputtered then, sir. She must be out of gas.' "That's the last word I heard over my radio for suddenly it too went dead. "I could see the kid working frantically fran-tically on the stick as the bomber went into a sickening glide. "With my radio dead I frantically signaled for the kid to jump. "If he saw me he failed to notice. Then I saw his head and shoulders emerge from the cockpit. I saw him clutching for his rip-cord. Suddenly Sudden-ly I saw his body, parachute and all, shoot upward as the trailing edge of the plane hit him. No man could live under such an impact. "I followed the chute downward in i tight circles. I could see a huge vent in the shrouds. The kid's body dangled from the harness. "A few minutes later it hit the water with a splash. "I brought my plane within a few feet of the water. As I passed over the spot where the kid had fallen all I could see was his yellow 'Mae West." "As I headed for home I prayed that the kid was unconscious when he hit, at least this would spare him any suffering before he drowned. , "I happened to be sitting by our radio a few days later. A flier had been picked up by some friendly natives. na-tives. He was conscious when found, and though suffering from multiple wounds and fractures, had a better than 50-50 chance to survive. sur-vive. "I learned later that the tail of the plane had severed his right leg below the knee." (Editor's note: Sergeant Henze uxis returned to tha States and diedtat the (. i. nrir hospital, Mare hland. Call fornia. lie was buried at Hillside cerne. tery. State Center, Iowa.) Sergt. William I. Coffeen Jr. days he hardly believed me. He told me that white men could not live that long on the sea and in the jungle. The native was a converted Seventh Day Advcntist. He had been taught English by missionaries. "I felt stronger the next day. By the third day I was able to walk once more. They decided to take me in a canoe to their village, where I was given American food canned meat and potatoes. On the second day In the village the Infection in my foot was lanced. "During my stay in the native village vil-lage I was stricken with malaria. I was given 'qucenie,' native name for quinine. My body was bathed in fresh water and lime. Within five days the fever disappeared. While with the natives I regained 20 of the 40 pounds I had lost. When I arrived at the native village I weighed about 115 pounds. "On the 72nd day after I had parachuted para-chuted Into the sea, a navy rescue plane landed off shore near tho native village." |